[Amy] [Hunter] “Oh..” That seems to surprise him, but he refrains from responding by throwing a shot in his mouth.
[Amy] (OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE, DICE!)
[Amy] “Because they’re not my pack. They’re Sar’s pack. Lukas made it petty clear when we met that I’m her problem, not his.”
[Hunter] “Hm,” thoughtful, perhaps an almost-frown in his lips. He reaches for another shot, throws it back. “But I mean.. ain’t they wanna be friends or whatever?”
[Amy] “Do they strike you as the kind of people that would want to be friends with me?”
[Hunter] “They don’t strike me as the kinda peeps who wanna be friends with anyone.” He laughs, “Though Joey n’Sinclair came into this city together – like sisters or somethin’ – years back, crazy shit happened though. They don’t talk no more.”
[Amy] That gets a scowl, and she downs two shots quickly.
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 9, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 4, 4 (Failure at target 6)
[Amy] (Dear Roller. Die in a fire. XOXO Ang.)
[Hunter] He eyes her, watches her take two of the shots and he takes the third before she can get her hands on it. Throws it back.
“What you scowlin’ about? Also you never fuckin’ told me what you said to piss Leon off so much.”
[stam +2 dif failed last one!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 7, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Amy] “Not gonna be like that. Not with Sar.” She shakes her head hard…
And loses her balance. One hand grabs the bartop, one grabs Hunter’s arm, and she steadies herself.
“Which time? I pissed him off a lot.”
[Hunter] He’s getting a little flush in the cheeks, a little glazed in the eyes, but he isn’t wobbly, not like Amy. So he helps steady her somewhat, gets her back in her seat.
“The time he fuckin’ hit you, duh.”
[Amy] She takes another shot, and signals for two more beers. “Which TIME that he hit me?”
He looks outraged, looks like he’s about to break a bar stool. Instead he picks up one of the shot glasses and hurls it at the wall.
“The fuck?!! He did it more than once???”
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 5, 8 (Failure at target 7)
[Amy] “You’re gonna get us cut off, and then it’ll suck. Say you’re sorry now.” She tries to give the bartender a charming smile, though her heart isn’t in it now.
“Just one day, though. Leon.” She nods slowly, somehow believing that will help.
[Hunter] “I’m sorry.”
He’s not, at all, not even a little bit. What she says does not help either.
“What’d he do, where’d he hit ya’ what the fuck happened amy!!”
[Amy] She ticks them off on her fingers as she talks
“I lied to him. I used him. I thew John in his face all the time. I cheated on him. I told him that I was all into him and I wasn’t.” Oops. Out of fingers on that hand. “I don’t know. Lots of shit.”
More money gets put on the counter, and her hand wraps around the fresh beer.
[Hunter] “Did you provoke him? Did ya’ make em lose control?”
[Amy] “I don’t remember”
“He knocked you out?”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] The Strider makes her way into the bar, looking around. She was out picking up a space heater and some other shit for Amy and John’s meeting spot. Somehow, she thinks that she’s losing her mind over this; she’s not just letting it happen now, she’s making goodwill deliveries to their fuckin’ rendezvous spot. She sighs, looking around for Amy. She knows the woman’s at a bar, and this is the third one she’s checked.
She smiles a bit as she sees Amy, and she’s so glad that she’s found the place that she doesn’t even feel uncomfortable that Hunter is here. She smiles and walks up, the smile starting to fade when she notes the tension.
[Amy] “No. Jesus. I just got hit in the head again and I dont-”
Fuck. She looks over her shoulder, biting her bottom lip. “Hey Sar.”
[Hunter] His head turns, eyes raising to the Garou as she wanders into the bar. There is most definitely tension here, and an array of empty vessels lined up along the bar in front of them. Hunter reaches out his hand, fingers wrapping around the beer that was recently purchased and raises it to his lips.
“Hi,” he begins, seems almost about to drink when he pulls the bottle away and continues, gesturing to the kinswoman with it. “Hope you know what that fuck bag of a walker did to your sister.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She freezes, frowning. The level of anger that quickly flashes to her eyes when Leon is mentioned is obvious and perhaps surprising to see on Sarita’s face. She’s not someone who gets angry often. Maybe at Amy, but she never looks like she hates something. Leon…yes, there is hate there. A scowl, and she walks up to the bar, waving for shots.
“Yeah. I know he hit her. And believe me, there’s nothing I’d have liked better than to put HIM in the hospital too.”
[Hunter] “Why the fuck didn’t you?”
[Amy] She holds her breath until after Sar talks, knowing what a bomb that question could have lit off.
“It wasn’t a big deal. I started it. Sar, you want a shot? We’ve got lots.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “That’s a really fucking good question.” She lights up a cigarette, shaking her head. “Couple reasons. One, I was dealing with the fact that Amy had a concussion and a rebroken wrist, and needed to get her checked out.” She takes one of the shots in front of Amy and downs it.
“And two, because Amy begged me not to. Leon has the potential to make some things pretty messy. My concern was that Amy was safe from him. I made sure that was the case. And don’t give me this ‘it wasn’t a big deal,’ Amy. I don’t give a shit if it was just once or what. I told you, there are a lot of fucking Ahrouns out there. Take Hunter here, and John. Lukas, too. They don’t hit the people they’re involved in.”
She’s assuming, anyway. She thinks it’s a safe assumption.
[Amy] “He wouldn’t have shifted and hit me if I had just shut my goddamned mouth. And my wrist wouldn’t have broken again if it wasn’t fucking all healed by Owen. That shit doesn’t take right away.”
She takes another shot, already feeling fuzzy.
[Amy] (Stam again!)
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 2, 7 (Failure at target 8)
[Hunter] “Damn fuckin’ right we don’t.”
He turns his gaze to Amy, points with two fingers as if to drive home the message.
“Grounds for divorce, not a fuckin’ concussion. Don’t care what you —“ He wouldn’t have shifted His eyes go wide and his lips curl in a snarl. This time he hurls the bottle across the bar at the mirror behind it. The bar-man ducks and Hunter is already turning around to walk out.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks about ready to give a retort to Amy when Hunter flips out. She sighs, rubbing her temple, and moves to get in his path, walking backward so he doesn’t just run her over. “You going where I think you’re going?”
She doesn’t honestly sound entirely opposed, but she is still in his way. Make of that what you will.
[Amy] Slow blink. A couple of seconds pass before it filters through that he’s pissed off and leaving, at which point she scrambles up with a fair chance of falling on her face.
[Hunter] “Does it start with L and end with rippin’ off his fuckin’ arms and shoving them down his throat?” He snarls at the Strider. “Get outta’ my way Sarita.”
[Amy] [Dex for staying on her feet]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 4, 6 (Failure at target 7)
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Listen, you wanna beat the shit out of him, I’m right there with you. But let’s hold off for right now, and I can tell you why later.” She arches an eyebrow, stopping at the door. A meaningful glace is given to Amy, and then back.
The expression is clear: We need to talk on our own about this.
[Amy] She yelps on the way down, then launches into a sailor worthy tirade of swearing as she picks herself back up/
[Hunter] He stops, whether it’s because Sarita asked him to or because he heard the kinswoman yelp and fall over behind him is unclear. To start with his fiery green eyes remain on the Garou, but after a moment he swivels his head, looks back over his shoulder.
“Jesus christ.” He sighs. “Let’s get outta here for they call the cops anywho.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “And here I was hoping to get plastered myself.” She sighs and tosses Hunter her keys. “My van’s outside. You’re not driving. I’ll get her.”
She slips by the Gnawer, moving to help Amy get to her feet and supporting her so she can walk with some level of effectiveness. “C’mon, you. Bitchmobile taxi service is here…”
[Hunter] “I ain’t leavin’ my fuckin’ car here. I’ll be fine.”
He pushes out of the door and stumbles towards the side of his car.
[Amy] “I’m fine” She scowls, waving off Sarita’s help and stomping for the door.
Garou can shift. Kin cannot. This is on her list of Unfair Things That Piss Her Off.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Hunter’s fine. Amy’s fine. And Sarita’s left behind, watching them both stomp out of the fucking bar. “Oh for fuck’s sake.”
She follows behind, out of the place. “Hunter, do not make me disable your fucking car. You are NOT driving. Also, give me my keys back. Amy, get in the van please.”
The Ragabash is the responsible one here. How the hell Sarita got to this point, she couldn’t tell you. She just knows it was easier when she was getting chased out of cities by angry Garou.
[Amy] She at least doesn’t argue. Leave that to Hunter. Climbing into the van, she twists around to explore what Sarita brought.
[Hunter] [dex+ath KEYS!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Hunter] Hunter tosses the keys blindly at Sarita, but they hit their target and he’s unlocking his door a second later. There is something decidedly distracted about the way his eyes look and the reactions on his face, like he’s communicating with someone who is not here at all.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She catches the keys and sighs as he has no apparent desire to avoid being a drunk driving target. “Hunter, this is your last chance. I have the auto mechanic skills to disable a car in moments.”
Her eyes widen when Hunter looks like he’s communicating with someone else. “Seriously, will you fucking listen to me for one fucking second?”
[Amy] Amy is busy being delighted and feeling guilty. Blankets, some of her clothes, space heater, generator so that it works, groceries….
While the adults fight, she crawls into the back of the van with the stuff and starts to cry.
[Hunter] Hunter turns around to face her with a look of annoyance, like she’s interrupting something and he barks out a “What??” Before his hand locks back up the door to his Impala. He stuffs his keys into his pockets and looks at Sarita.
“I can’t go with ya,” the anger in his face is evident, he’s about a millimetre away from frenzying and he knows it. The fact that he can even attempt a conversation at this point goes to show the lengths this man has taken to control himself – the times in his past where he might not have been able to.
“Joey’s comin’ to get me.” That’s all he can say, not because he’s hiding anything but because he’s more likely to bite his own lips off than produce understandable words right now.
[Hunter] [oh yep! -1 WP]
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She chills out a bit at that. It’s just about her moon, and she’s undoubtedly pissier than usual. But she knows that look, she’s seen it just before Amy’s said You know, Cleveland sounds good this time of year and she’s unsuccessfully trying to start their van like it’s a horror movie. There’s a scratch across the back of the van that attests to that, that Sarita’s never had a chance to fix.
“Where are you going,” she says fairly calmly. “Are we meeting you there, or am I dropping off this shit at the house and we’re heading home?”
She knows he may not be able to answer, but she’s just trying to give him options in the coolest-headed way possible.
[Hunter] He can’t talk without snarling, but she asks him questions anyway and it makes his blood pressure spike. It’s not her fault, it’s his if anything, or Leon’s – that muther fucker.
“Don’t know.” He grunts out, childlike, pathetic. He crosses his arms over his chest then barks something that sounds like “Home.”
[Amy] She’s never been good with time, and it’s even worse when she’s drunk. The side door of the van opens and she half leans, half falls out.
“You guyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyys. I’ve been in here foreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeever. C’mon!”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Okay. Going now. Meet you there.” She gives him a nod and then heads back to the van. Amy is helped back into the van. “C’mon, we’re going.”
She shuts the door and moves to get into the driver’s seat, pulling out.
[Amy] “Why isn’t Hunter coming? What did you DO?”
[Hunter] Hunter paces on the street, back and forth, around in a small circle like he’s not exactly sure where he’s going. They see him wander off down the road and disappear into an alleyway, kicking a steel rubbish bin over as he does so–
Well, kicking it over is putting it lightly. It bends in half at the point of impact, goes flying across the street and smashes into a brick wall. He’s gone a moment later.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Nothing.” She sighs, starting up the van. “Joey’s coming to get him. We’re meeting at his place…wherever that is. You’ll have to direct me. He needs to cool off a bit because of Leon.”
Something in that statement has made her unhappy. She slinks into the seat, giving Sarita directions to the house.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] A little nod and she pulls out, reaching over to rub Amy’s shoulder as she follows the directions.
And hopes Amy isn’t so drunk she’s giving the wrong ones.
…you know. It could happen.
[Hunter] [Thanks for the scene SO FAR!! *ominous*]
[Amy] She’s drunk, but not so much that she can’t give directions. Yet.
Hopping out as soon as the van stops, she stumbles just a little. “Stay here. I’ll go open the door.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Sweetie, lemme do it. I gots the break-in skills, remember?” She smiles a little bit and moves to get out. “And you’re drunk. Don’t need you slicin’ open your arm on a window or some shit.”
[Amy] “I’m fine. We always get in this way.”
She moves to the side of the house, pushing open the window the inch or so she can get it. It’s escaped her until this very second that the reason she’s able to get up and through the window is the Fenrir that’s lifting her up at the time.
Instead, without him, she jumps and
[Amy] AND ZOMBIES ATTACK! AAARGH!!!
Instead, without him, she jumps and starts to unsteadily pull herself up.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She sighs and looks around, then walks up to the side of the house. She puts her hands under Amy’s feet and helps push her up to the window.
[Amy] She yelps, then cracks up when the boost takes her by surprise. The window is pushed open more, and Amy tips in to crash onto the floor in an amazing lack of grace.
A couple of minutes later, the front door is unlocked and opened.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She sighs and goes to get the heater, generator and some groceries while Amy heads to the the front door. Just a little Gnosis and this would have been easy…
Still, she’s grinning a bit when she slips inside. “Where does this shit go?”
[Amy] She gestures vaguely behind her. “I can carry shit, you know.”
Wriggling around her, she jogs to the van to collect clothing and blankets.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Yeah, but I wanted to grab the breakable shit.” She carries the stuff inside, seeking out a good central spot to put the generator and space heater. The food is put into the kitchen…no spoilable items, of course. Not when they don’t have power. She starts to unpack the stuff while Amy brings the second load in.
[Amy] She dumps her armload on the hard wood floor, blowing up bits of fur from Hunter’s sleepover the other night. After shutting and locking the door, she goes to the kitchen to shut and lock the window before turning around to lean on the counter. She watches her sister for a moment, then clears her throat.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] A little shrug as she puts stuff away in cabinets, not looking over immediately. The bottle of tequila’s been left out. She doesn’t give a whole bucketload of fucks, she is getting drunk tonight.
“Don’t mention it.” She half-looks back, smiling, and puts some cereal up. The brand Amy likes…she doesn’t know what John likes. Doesn’t know much of anything about him, come to think about it.
“Not a bad place, all in all.”
[Amy] “Yeah. Hunter’s full of fucking surprises. We gotta remember to change the locks, then we won’t have to come in through the window anymore..
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “That would be a good thing.” She nods, turning to face her now. “How you doin’?”
[Amy] “I need a drink. I need to fucking think before I open my mouth.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “You look like you’ve had a lot to drink already, hon.” She frowns a little bit. “No, this is shit that needs to get out now. Leon’s a fucking moron, it would have come out eventually I’m sure. Better get it right out of the way.”
[Amy] “And what happens when Hunter kicks his ass, and he goes running to Lukas or whoever about me an’ John?
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Well, he needs his ass kicked. A lot.” She shrugs. “Honestly, I was a horrible person for not doing it myself. And he just knows about the one time, right? And the feelings on your part too, sure, but not anything else?”
[Amy] “He knows why I got hit and that I was using Leon. I told him it was my own damned fault, but he’s not buying that. Obviously.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “And nor should he buy that, because it’s not your own damned fault. I meant Leon, though. Leon just knows about the one time with John, right?”
[Amy] “Yeah. And he knows I love him.” She looks sheepish, eyes on the floor.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She nods. “Yeah, I knew about that. But that’s it, right?”
[Amy] She nods too. “Yeah. Fuck.” She moves to the widow, as if looking out will somehow summon Hunter.
“He was talking to one of them. You said Joey was coming to get him? Fuck.”
Because Amy, being mere kin, really has no understanding that packspeech doesn’t work like a one way voice mail machine, but rather like an old fashioned party line, dispensing words into everyone’s head equally.
She wouldn’t be nearly so calm if she knew.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “That’s what he said, yeah.”
She sighs. “So, here’s what I’m thinking. Leon’s getting the fuck beat out of him. You know and I know that Hunter won’t leave it at that. And if he tells John…whoa, mama. But…we can probably work this fine. I’ll be there, ’cause frankly like I said I should have beat him to hell, and we’ll tell him to keep quiet or the Furies find out. That should shut his ass up.”
[Amy] “It won’t. He’s a prideful fucker. He’ll scream until somebody pays attention.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Well, we’ll have to figure something out. Because we won’t be able to stop Hunter. And I really don’t know that we should.”
[Amy] “And now fucking Joey knows. That’s great.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Probably, yeah.” She nods. “Hopefully, that’s the only other person. If John knows, all bets are off.”
[Amy] “He knows.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She blinks. “He knows that Leon fucked you up?”
[Amy] “He knows I got hit. I asked him to leave it alone. He knows how fucked we would be if Leon starts screaming.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Okay, but does he know it’s Leon, or just that someone hit you?”
She needs to make sure. She knows how good Amy is at lies of omission.
[Amy] “I’m telling him everything about shit, Sar. Totally fucking honest.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Okay. Just making sure.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Because I want to know what the case is. I wanna be in on the information and make sure I know what to say to people.”
[Amy] “Alright. That’s fair.”
She crosses her arms, looking out the window again.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She watches Amy for a long moment, then grabs the tequila. “C’mon. Let’s get some drinks going.”
[Amy] “He should have just come with us….” She sighs and tromps back to the living room, picking up an armful of clothes and one of the blankets, leaving the other on the floor while she moves to the small bedroom to drop everything else off.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Yeah, I know.” She shakes her head, getting down some glasses she brought along with them and pouring a hefty amount of tequila in each. “I tried. He was on the edge of frenzy though, sweetie.”
[Amy] “You want to know what the really fucked up thing is?”
She comes back to the living room, pushing the other blanket toward the wall and sitting down.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Sure. I love fucked-up things.” She moves and sits next to Amy, handing her a glass.
[Amy] She takes it, drinking before talking.
“It’s sweet. It’s…. it’s like being home again.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Like being home?” She frowns. “What do you mean?”
[Amy] “Just. Hunter reminds me of Ox. A lot. This is something that he would do.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Oh.” She falls quiet, nodding, and takes a drink of her tequila. There’s the good burn.
[Amy] “He was….”
She hasn’t told her sister about her non blood brothers back home. She hasn’t spoken of them at all, until Hunter’s prompting for a story the other night brought them back to life for her.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “…someone you knew at your home sept, right?”
She finishes the thought for her, pulling her knees up toward her chest and drinking a bit more. That wasn’t hard to figure out.
[Amy] “He was my best friend.”
She finishes her glass in one long gulp, ignoring the burning that makes her want to gag
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “…oh.” She blinks, then smiles a bit. She knows Amy’s never talked to her about most of her life at her home sept, and that’s always bothered her a bit. She sighs slightly and nods, repouring some for them both.
[Amy] “You only say that’s cool when you’re pissed.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I’m not pissed, Ames. I promise.” She swallows a fair amount of her tequila. To be fair, she said she wanted to get plastered well before shit went sour. She sighs, and shuts her eyes.
“I just tend to forget that in some ways, you’re way more knowledgeable about this shit than I am.”
[Amy] “Yeah. I’m sorry. It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you. I just haven’t let myself think about it for a long time.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She shrugs. “S’fine. I knew you’d tell me when you were ready…I never wanted to push.”
She pours some more. “Is it fucked-up that I really envy you?”
[Amy] “No. I envy you too.”
She scoots closer, leaning on Sarita now
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I’d be a shitload better at this shit if I’d grown up around a sept, I think.” She shuts her eyes, downing some more. She’s in full-on drink it up mode. “And not just ‘Hey, here’s how to use your shit, go to this sept for a few months to figure shit out.'”
She sighs. “I wish I’d had Garou friends growing up. Or kinfolk.” Or you. I’m glad you had that.”
[Amy] “I’d be totally normal. If he had just fucked my mom and mated with yours, you would be unstoppable and I would never have known what I can’t do.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She gives an amused snort. “With our luck, I’da been the kin and you’da been the Garou at that point.”
[Amy] She laughs, nodding “Yeah. I can fucking see that.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Whenever you want, I’d love to hear more about your home sept.” She turns her head, resting her chin on top of Amy’s.
“You don’t gotta. Just…if you wanna. Sometime.”
[Amy] “Everybody there knows about you, you know. He used to brag about you all the time”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Her nose wrinkles. “The fuck did he have to brag about? You know what I was doing until Mom died? Fucking guys in high school to get them to do my homework, dealing drugs to my classmates and generally just being the worst influence my school’d ever known.”
[Amy] “Well, if there was any question about if we were related, there you go.” She shrugs a shoulder, knocking back the rest of the tequila in her glass. “He’d always be like ‘I saw my daughter, and she did the most amazing fucking thing!’ ”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “He WHAT?” She straightens and the awkward leaning against the wall makes her lose her balance. The small amount of tequila in the glass splashes on her face, adding some sputtering and coughing to the embarrassment of the slip.
[Amy] Which, in Amy’s present state, is possibly the funniest thing she’s ever seen.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She scrambles up, looking too stunned by the revelation and the tequila bath to be pissed off. It’s coming, though. “Esteban fucking WATCHED me? Are you kidding?”
[Amy] “Um.” She stops laughing, then shrugs. “I guess?”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She gets up, stalking over toward the kitchen counter and grabbing one of the new dishrags to wipe her face off with. Amy can see the tension in her, from her lower back all the way into her neck.
“Here I thought he was just always fucking busy elsewhere and never had time to come by. Jesus Fuck.”
[Amy] “Never had time to come by where?”
She’d be confused, even if she wasn’t drunk.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “And see me.” She turns around, stalking back and swiping the bottle. “You know, come to Los Alamos and say ‘Hey. S’up. I’m your father.'”
[Amy] “Yeah… like, once a year. Fuck, Sar. You weren’t missing shit. I barely saw him more than that.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I never fucking met Esteban until the day after my mother died, Amy.” She raises the bottle to her lips, taking a heavy swig off of it. Yeah, she’s gonna be barely able to walk soon.
“And then I knew him for all of like three goddamn months.”
[Amy] “You’re fucking drunk.” She takes the bottle away, taking several gulps.
“He saw you every fucking year. I heard about it for weeks.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “No, he didn’t. I didn’t know him. At ALL.”
She’s confused, and drinks more from the bottle.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Never. Once. In. My Life.” She scowls, pacing. As much as a drunk person can pace.
That sums it up, pretty much
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Unf…fuckingbelievable.” She looks like she could hit something. But she’d probably miss, unless it was air.
[Amy] “Fuck him.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “What’s the fuckin’ point o’ that shit? Why randomly fuck with your fuckin’ KIDS?”
[Amy] “You’re better fucking off. He was a fuck. He was fucking mean.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Fuck that shit. Fucker can fucking…get fucked.”
[Amy] She nods, then scrambles up to run into the kitchen and throw up.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Shit…” She moves to follow Amy, reaching out and clumsily gathering up the kinfolk’s hair.
[Amy] Fortunately, she’s got nothing but liquid in her stomach. Most of the tequilla comes back up, and she makes a miserable, groaning sound.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “C’mere.” She draws the kin to her, rubbing her back. “You’re ‘kay.”
[Amy] “Jesus fuck. I haven’t puked in years.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Really? Wow.”
[Amy] “The guys would have never let me hear the end of it. Then I wasn’t really drinking much when I was running around with him.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She breaks into a wide grin. The alcohol is really kicking in now. “So what you’re sayin’ is that you’re turning into a lightweight?”
[Amy] “Oh FUCK YOU”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She giggles a little. “Hey, you said it, not me.”
[Amy] “I clearly need to drink more” She turns the faucet on and scoops some water to rinse her mouth before spitting it out and turning around.
“So, this is it. Home sweet dirty little secret.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Yeah…” She looks around, head swimming. “S’not bad, s’not bad. As secret pads go…”
[Amy] “Hunter stayed over the other night. We all wound up crashing in the living room”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “That’s what I smell.” It’s unlikely she currently smells anything other than the tequila that splashed her face, really. She takes a lean against the wall, eyes shutting.
“S’cool, though. S’good, I guess.”
[Amy] “It was nice.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She nods a little bit. She walks over to grab the bottle for a drink.
“You got somethin’ better’n me. S’good.”
[Amy] “So come over and sleep in a pile of stinky fuckers.” Her hand is held out for the bottle.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She shakes her head, taking another drink before passing the bottle back. “Uh-uh. That’d be kinda wierd.”
She sighs. “You gotta come hang with th’Unbroken, though. Seriously.”
[Amy] “Yeah. Okay. Pool days, right?”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Fuck yes pool days.” She grins. “You an’ me are gonna act like it’s fuckin’ somewhere warm and be totally hot hangin’ out by the pool.”
[Amy] “Well. I’ll be hot. You’ll be like, a half hour after the pizza gets pulled out of the oven.”
She grins, ready to duck.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Oh, FUUUUCK YOU.” She doesn’t take a swing or throw anything; instead she tries to tackle her with a laugh.
[Amy] She shrieks a little, trying to get out of the way and falling over instead.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She laughs and falls too, landing with a jarring ‘oof.’ She gets to her hands and knees, trying to drag Amy back to her.
“Who’s the hot one? Huh?”
[Amy] “Oh puh-lease! You saw them looking at me in the club. Hunter spilled his fucking drink.” She squirms and kicks, but it’s halfhearted at best.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She crawls as she pulls, taking the kick with an “OW!” and ending up sitting on Amy’s back.
“Yeah well, I can’t help if if they’re not used to quality hotness.”
[Amy] “Get the fuck off me. Jesus. What the fuck did you EAT?”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I dunno, but at least it stayed down.” She says it with a tease, socking Amy in the leg before she rolls off her.
“I’m totally the hot one.”
[Amy] “Whatever you gotta tell yourself.” She sits up, grinning
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She chuckles and gives her a light kick to the leg. “Bitch.”
Her eyes shut, and she smiles. “Oh, wooooonderful spinniness…”
[Amy] Which makes her crack up, of course.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Okay, I will admit…” She finally opens her eyes, looking a bit green when the room keeps spinning.
“I like this whole lone house thing. Like the Broho, but not having to worry about anyone else just walking in…just chillin’. That’s damn cool.”
Never mind that they’re in what is essentially a Defiance safehouse and any of them could come in at any moment.
[Amy] “Pretty fucking cool, isn’t it? You gonna stay here tonight?”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She shrugs. “S’it gonna piss off the guys if I do?”
[Amy] “No. And fuck ’em if it does. Besides, I think you get a free pass on wakin’ up and finding strange people in your space.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She snorts. “You have NO idea how fuckin’ panicked I was that someone was about to walk in at any moment, or even see when I walked out the door. I had to crack the fuckin’ thing and shimmy out.”
[Amy] “We had all our clothes on. Jesus.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Yeah, ’cause that woulda been better.”
[Amy] “You know Lukas pretty well. What do you think he’s going to say?”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “About what? You and John?”
[Amy] “No, about Kate and the fucking Prince.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Oh, it’s OUR Kate who’s marrying the Prince?” She grins at that.
“Seriously. I don’t fuckin’ know. I ain’t exactly broached the issue with him. ‘Hey Lukas, what do you think about Metis and Kinfolk? Cool, not cool?'”
She shakes her head. “Ain’t happened.”
[Amy] She nods, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “You know the best way to get him on your side, right?’
[Amy] “Other than not fucking the Metis? Because that’s out.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Get to know him. Get him liking you. I mean, he already does like you. He’s told me that much. But still, right now you’re that sister of his packmate-to-be. If he thinks of you as a friend, it’ll be a lot harder for him to do something when or if something DOES come out.”
[Amy] “Katherine too?”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She nods, stumbling to her feet and going for the bottle. She’s not done getting plastered yet.
“Katherine too. Have you even met Kate yet?”
[Amy] Her head shakes, the room continuing to spin even after she stops.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Dude, you totally need to. She seems severe, I know, and she is really formal-like, but she’s actually pretty fuckin’ cool.”
She takes a couple swallows off the bottle and moves to sit down again.
says the window in the kitchen to which John has grown accustomed climbing through rather than using a door like a normal person. Something stops him from just barreling through the window like he normally does: he hears voices. The females can hear whoever it is pause before a heavy body starts to climb through, slowly.
[Amy] She just relaxes completely when she hears the very obvious sounds of someone breaking in, leaning her head against the wall and smiling a little.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “If you’re here to burn, pillage and loot, make sure you do it in the right order!”
It’s shouted out to the direction of the window. She likely doesn’t realize that she actually SAID it in the wrong order.
[Amy] “Don’t take off, okay? Please?” She keeps her voice quiet as she leans to take the bottle from Sarita.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Dude, what. You think I’m driving anywhere like this?”
She keeps the bottle out of Amy’s hands long enough to get another drink. Sarita is in full-on lush mode at the moment, and she doesn’t care who sees it. She had to be the responsible one earlier today. The Ragabash, the RESPONSIBLE one. What kind of fucked up city is this? Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the kind where a Strider lets her sister get involved with a Metis? Shut up you, it totally makes sense. It’s all about her backstory. No it’s not, there’s no “And then she fell in love with a Metis” in her backstory. …oh yeah? Well…I just forgot about it. You were going to make Sarita a Mary Sue, weren’t you? Blow me.
Finally, she gives the bottle over.
[John] He’s too large a guy to try and do anything stealthily, regardless of his permanent silence otherwise: the floorboards squawk beneath his weight as he moves toe-to-heel from the kitchen into the living room, as if he’s going to sneak up on whoever is camping out in–
Oh, hi, Sarita.
John looks like he’s the last survivor of a goddamn airplane crash. His jeans and boots are filthy, and he’s not much better off. Blood stains his arms, particularly his wrists, and it’s crusted on his right eyebrow, beneath his nose, yet there are no wounds beneath it. He heals too quickly for much fuss to be raised over split skin and lost teeth.
His jacket is intact, but whatever shirt he’d had on underneath is no longer with us. His Rage, it’s worth mentioning, is completely drained. He could pass for human if he had a shower, if he didn’t possess mannerisms that were outright mammalian at times.
The metis stands in the doorway for several seconds, processing the drunk sisters in front of him, and he looks Amy over from a distance as though she’s the one who’s turned up bloody. When it finally sinks in that she’s okay, relief hits him so hard he leans against the archway, and he sighs. Taking a moment to scrub his face, smearing blood, when John collects himself he pulls his hand away and waves.
[Amy] The living room is pleasantly toasty, due to the newly acquired space heater and small generator chugging away to power it.
Amy looks up, still smiling. The smile fades when she sees him though, replaced by a look of pure guilt. Scrambling up, she moves too quickly and has to brace herself against the wall to keep from falling over.
“What happened, baby?” She knows, of course. Maybe this simple question, tossed out like any normal girl would pose it to any normal boy, will help make it less real though.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks over at John, and her eyes go wide. “Oh fucking sonuvabitch [u]lo que la mierda que te pasó?[/i]”
If she noticed that she switched languages, she doesn’t show it. It’s possible she’s been going back and forth this whole time and Amy’s just been nice and not pointed it out.
[John] Though he doesn’t write or gesticulate, his reaction to Sarita’s tripping out of English into Spanish is naked and, considering the circumstances, absurdly comical: What the fuck did you just say to me?
They’re lucky he even speaks English. Given how long it’s taken him to learn that goddamn language he’ll be dead by the time he starts grasping Spanish.
The look to Sarita is quickly reeled in and cast toward Amy, who wants to know what happened. He scoffs, looking relatively miserable, and glances skyward. It’s a Lord help me that exists independent of faith or a deity in Garou mythology, and when he looks back down, John just holds a hand out to indicate Amy. He does it again, as if he’s wordlessly appealing her to explain to him what happened, then plants his hands on his hips. For several seconds all he does is look at her.
[Amy] “He talked to you too.” Fuck. She doesn’t look at him, eyes on the floor instead. Several seconds tick by before she attempts something to say that’s at least reasonable.
“You should go take a shower”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She purses her lips, staying where she is on the ground. Her arms wrap around her knees as she watches them, feeling suddenly like an intruder in their place.
[John] Considering he can’t lie worth a damn, it can’t be a good sign when John’s face hemorrhages expression. The way he looks at Amy after she says ‘he’ talked to him ‘too’ is almost entirely devoid of emotion, as though he doesn’t even have the energy necessary to react anymore. His jaw is set even in the absence of his Rage, and she can see a light in his eyes that speaks of the depth of his love for her, but beyond that he could be a statue now.
Something passes through him, but he doesn’t feel it necessary to share with the rest of the class. A drawn, loud breath, and he looks over to Sarita. His eyebrows furrow, slow and expectant, and his eyes are imploring. Even intoxicated, grasping at his question isn’t much of a stretch.
Did you know?
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She puts her index fingers up, trying to get to her feet and failing as she falls back on her ass.
“I can…OW! Sonuvafucking puta bitch-ass floor. John…I knew he hit her, yeah. You gotta gimme a minute. I did NOT just sit around an’ do nothing, if that’s what you’re implyin’.”
[Amy] “I asked her to leave it alone. Just like I asked you, and I asked Hunter.”
[John] At Sarita’s falling back, John drops his hands off of his hips and starts across the room. If he had not frenzied earlier, he might have been rough with her, might have actually hurt her; he still grabs hold of her arm instead of taking her by the hand, and hauls the Ragabash to her feet instead of helping her. The female is not so short that he towers over her, yet even without his totem’s assistance the metis is physically stronger than her. Once she’s standing, or leaning against the wall, he steps back.
Then Amy speaks up. She asked her to leave it alone.
John blinks, the answer clearly not what he wanted to hear. His eyes are a color more akin to ice than sky at the moment, and there is no apology in them. Without explaining why, he looks back to Sarita and gestures to her sister, eyebrows lifted this time.
[Amy] “Hey!” She pushes off the wall and stumbles, crashing into him before pushing herself back off. “You don’t hurt her, you hear me? You don’t EVER fucking hurt her”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She gives a bit of a yelp as she’s yanked up. The rough action forces a bit of sobriety on her, but she’s still very tipsy. She puts her hands up again, shaking her head. “No. Yes, I mean, that was part of it. Wasn’t all of it, though. Lemme explain.”
She sighs, and shakes her head. This isn’t going to be easy. When Amy does that though, she is stunned into silence. “.,.Amy.” Okay, except for that word, silence. Her eyes are wide, looking between them. She looks like a rate caught in a cage for the moment, deeply uncomfortable.
[John] His nostrils flare when Amy crashes into him, but it isn’t his hackles raising: he’s scenting her, even in his ineffective human skin, and that’s when the alcohol hits him.
He holds up his hands in a universal gesture of being unarmed, of meaning no harm, yet the look on his face is both bewildered and irritated. He stands like this for a few seconds, as if he needs to demonstrate to her that he is not, in fact, going to hurt her sister, then looks back to Sarita. His hands go back to his hips.
This close, without a shirt beneath the open jacket, Sarita can see the array of battle scars cut across the front of the Modi. None of them are higher than his heart, yet it seems as though he has been clawed, bitten and stabbed to death plenty of times in his life.
He’s stubborn enough to keep on living despite everything he’s likely endured in his life; he can afford a few extra seconds to allow a Ragabash to speak. At least the chance of him frenzying is nearly nonexistent.
[Amy] “Yeah. Well. Just.” She scowls, the expression fading quickly and alcohol fueled into something that’s more like agony as she steps back and crosses her arms over her middle.
“Neither of you can get hurt. Ever.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She stares at Amy a moment, as it blasted into mindlessness by the enormity of what just happened. She blinks, and then looks back at John, who is looking at her expectantly.
Oh, right, explanation. This is going to suck.
She chews on her lip. “Listen…I wanted to rip him to shreds. I wanted to put enough bullets in him that he didn’t ever get back up, and frankly, I didn’t care if I got kicked out of the Nation or killed for it. That’s the motherfuckin’ truth.” Now ~she’s~ starting to get angry. That’s the problem with alcohol, and it is pretty much her moon. Only the tiniest sliver of Luna is in the sky.
“You think I liked having to take her to the fucking hospital because she had a concussion? Do you? Fuck no. But she was hurt. And I needed to be there for my sister. Not off being some vengeance-driven bitch who only wanted to kill MY pain. Yes, she asked me not to. And there was a good reason I didn’t.”
She looks at Amy, knowing this is likely to piss her off, and looks back to John. “Amy was in a delicate place, John. She had everything being taken away from her. Her chance at a pack. You. Everything she wanted, and Leon took advantage of that. If I killed him, I was taking something else away from her, and it could have destroyed her. Killing Leon wouldn’t have done me any good if Amy was destroyed too. So I did what I could and I made sure that Amy was safe. I pulled the plug on them, and I made sure it was kept pulled. Now, should I have gone after him? Maybe. But forgive me for being willing to risk the chance that the price of vengeance was that the one thing I love in this world was lost, either to me or to everyone.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[forgive me for being NOT willing]]
[John] She explains. That’s all he’d wanted from her, but that doesn’t quiet him at all. John scrubs his face, as if briefly covering his eyes with a large hand is going to stop them from hearing the by-now-familiar sigh escape his lungs, and reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket to pull out the leather-bound journal he keeps with him. It’s nearly half-filled after only a month, but not all of it is words and glyphs: some pages are just sketches, drawings, half-finished in most cases.
He flips to a clean page, and starts writing in his sloppy left-handed writing. Third grade boys have better handwriting than John does. Whatever he’s scrawling out takes a while.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She sighs, her energy spent for the moment in that tirade, she she takes a step to the side to lean against the wall. This is where she sees everything going bad. Defiance decides to hate her, and thus she gets alienated from Amy. Who she probably just alienated anyway. And that’ll be it. Because of her mistake, she’ll be lost.
She watches John. Watches him write. And she waits to see what’s been said.
[Hunter] It’s late in the night when Hunter finally stumbles upon his pack-mate and the two Striders. He has been busy the entire time, getting advised by Joey, getting taken on hunts and beating things up, working the anger out until there’s nothing remaining but the horrid gash on the side of his face and eyes that seem far too tired.
He doesn’t knock, he doesn’t even announce his presence, it’s like he’s walking into his own home and it’s probably a foolish person here who disputes that. But he doesn’t seem angry when he stumbles inside, he seems spent – drained – exhausted to the point of mindlessness. His hand shakes though he hides it inside the pocket of his jacket. It’s not the actual news that has him like this, but the steadily built up effects, the denial of release, the refusal to frenzy, it has drained him and left him weaker than he has been in a long time.
“Hey,” he mumbles to all three of them, turns to John and it’s there his eyes focus. “You alright?”
[Amy] And there they go. She shakes her head when Hunter walks in, arms tighter around her middle as she leans back into the wall again.
[John] He tears out the page instead of leaving it in the journal. He’s done this numerous times, but the binding wasn’t designed for that: it’s going to loosen and spill all of the pages eventually. So it goes. John hands the paper to Sarita, yet there is nothing written that he wouldn’t expose Amy to if he could speak.
amunet is strong but shes your sister. how it luk if i tel master of chalenj i want greevance settled? cant. they ask why i hit him kill him they find out i do it protekt amunet they ask why. i say why i dont no wat hapen to her. they kil me probly.
you hav to protekt her and other kinfolk
wat if he do it to sumon els?
i see him agin and he not punishd – i kil him
As Sarita is reading this, Hunter lets himself in. John looks the exact opposite of physically alright, actually looks as though he frenzied, was nearly arrested and killed someone, although the order in which this occurred is questionable.
As for whether he himself is psychologically alright: it’s John. Fenrir won’t rather commit seppuku than admit to having feelings.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She reads it, and she nods. She didn’t expect less.
When Hunter comes in, she looks down. The normally in-your-face Sarita doesn’t even look the Bone Gnawer in his, nor John after that. She may be sobered up in mood, but she is still drunk, and that’s making her a lot more honest that she otherwise would be. That honesty comes in the fact that John completely put her in her place, and she knows it.
“Hey,” she says to Defiance leader, as she wobbles over to find the bottle. “I fucking need más para beber..”
[Amy] She looks over John, looks over Hunter…. Then snorts. When she speaks, her words are angry.
“Usted podría haber muerto. Cualquiera de ustedes. Ambos de ustedes. Maldito hombre obstinado. ¿Alguna vez piensa en lo que se iba a pasar usted murieron a causa de algo que hice? Se me iba a matar.”
[Hunter] He frowns, she knows he understands the words, why she chooses that language is lost on him — unless she doesn’t want John to hear. “I was fuckin’ fine.” He was not. “Me too Sarita, me too.”
[Amy] “Usted no se les permite hacer esto a mí. No puedes hacer que me sienta seguro, y luego tomar todo por la borda.”
She turns and storms away, into the bathroom to slam the door. The shower starts a moment later.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She takes a swig of the tequila bottle, and staggers over to hand it to Hunter. The two Garou can see several grocery bags, most of them empty, on the kitchen counter. The cabinets are now stocked with non-perishables. They may have also noticed the generator and space heater sitting in the main room.
“Relax,” she says when Amy’s gone off. “S’fine. She’s only doin’ it ’cause she’s upset and scared. She’ll chill out. She’s not legit…legitimately angry.”
[Hunter] He takes the bottle, wraps a large worn hand around it and almost raises it to his lips before pausing and frowning at the Strider. “You okay? Sorry to fuckin’ bail on you, didn’t trust myself round you two, could’a done somethin’ stupid.”
[Amy] The door swings open again. Amy stands in the doorway, arms crossed.
“You both fucking need showers. Get the fuck in there. Please.”
[John] Nobody translates what just went on, and nobody tells him why Amy storms out of the room, and John does not appear to be in the mood to chase, wheedle or ask someone to cross two language barriers to help him understand. He’s covered in blood, shirtless, and completely tapped of Rage. Already today he’s gotten into trouble, and there is most likely an APB out for a tall blue-eyed Caucasian.
There are maybe two of them in this neighborhood.
He leaves anyway.
[Amy] That knocks the wind out of her sails. Water left running, she trails out after John to catch him.
“I’m sorry. Don’t go. Please?”
[Hunter] A sigh from Hunter and he stops John from leaving, then says directly to him. “Where the fuck you goin’? She’s all scared and shit don’t fuckin’ run out on her.”
That might be all the translation he gets because Hunter is about as patient as a fucking live wire right now. John probably is too, this could get ugly.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I understand, really.” She’s definitely 2.89 sheets to the wind at the moment. Pretty exact number. How do you figure? Easy. Carry the one, divide by pi, take the square root of it and Kiss My Ass because it was a joke. Jokes are funny, though. Yeah, like your face. Wow, we’ve hit sixth grade now? Oh, shut up.
Yeah, so she’s almost totally drunk. She nods a little. “I get it. I was just worried y’were gonna do somethin’ t’someone else y’regretted. Y’know I almost got Simon to beat the snot out of me rather that go out of a club all pissy? But yeah, I get it.”
[Amy] “You WHAT?!?”
Her attention turns on Sarita, more anger in her tone now. “Lo que en el coño te pasa?”
[John] John is a saint on his best days, capable of tolerating so much aggravation and outright bullshit that it’s not even funny; today is not a good day, but even at his worst, John makes the effort. He made an effort, and that was all he had, apparently.
‘She’s scared’ doesn’t register with him, or else he stopped listening.
He nearly tears the back door off the hinges as he walks out of the kitchen.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey, HAY.” She looks at Amy. “A, That shit was a while back. B, Better me than him killing someone. I heal. C, He didn’t, my gambit worked–though my rogue was off getting her hair streaked and stealing someone’s powers…” She grins, seeming to find that funny. “So chill.”
[Amy] She’s caught.
Her eyes dart wildly between Sarita and John, a look of absolute panic on her face. Sarita’s joking doesn’t do anything to calm her, and she flinches when she hears the back door yanked open.
Tequilla makes her weepy on even her party days. This is why she doesn’t drink it anymore. Weepy has definitely taken over, but she’s quiet about it.
[Hunter] “I’m takin’ that shower.” Whether was stopped or not, Hunter strips out of his upper layers revealing tanned skin and a myriad of battle scars, left rib to hip, thick barb marks on his shoulders, a vicious claw mark on his right side. The marks on his shoulders and upper arms look remarkably like the teeth of something Amy fought recently. It seems that was not his first encounter with such a beast.
His garments are dropped on the floor and he wanders down to the bathroom, shouting things like “Fuck him! John you fuck!” He suddenly stops in the hallway outside the bathroom, half stripping out of his pants. “He’ll come around! Just let em’ go, I’ll talk to em’ while I shower,” and he disappears inside the bathroom.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She winces when John makes his exit, rubbing at her face.
“Fucking hell.” She frowns. “My bad.” She doesn’t really know what IS her bad, but she’s pretty sure it’s her.
[Amy] She moves close enough to a wall that she can lean on it, arms crossed around her middle.
[John] [Thanks, guys! I gotta get ready to leave work!]
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[Thanks!]]
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She sighs and walks over, wrapping her arms around Amy.
“M’sorry. I suck at this shit.”
[Amy] She doesn’t say anything, barely counter leaning.
[Hunter] Shower noises. Some horrible singing, something like bohemian rhapsody, interrupted now and then by totem conversation.
Mama, Just killed a man! put a gun against his —
Head! Pulled the trigger now he’s–
[how bad is he]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 3, 4 (Failure at target 7)
[Amy] (Woooow 🙂 )
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[Yeesh!]]
[Hunter] [christ, I’m a talented musician and Hunter sounds like a fucking honey badger]
[Amy] [Irony, baby!]
[Hunter] [don’t lie he’s fucking hot sounding you are all jealous]
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “It’ll be fine. I promise.” She cradles Amy a bit against her, sighing. “Just…rough day.”
[Amy] “Fucking my whole life is in this fucking house, Sar.” She pauses, recalling the recently yanked door. “Was in this house.”
Her head shakes and she sighs. “If anything happens to you guys, I’ll die.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “A, nothing’s gonna happen to us.” She kisses her sister’s forehead. “And B, don’t say shit like that. Please.”
[Amy] She hiccups a breath, but doesn’t say anything.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “C’mon. Let’s go sit somewhere.”
[Amy] Shrugging, she shuffles back into the living room and flops down on the blanket.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She waits until Amy is settled, and then she shifts. The Strider doesn’t take other forms often, and most have not seen her in Lupus outside of Moots. Even Amy has probably only seen it a handful of times; she would under no circumstances change in a situation where people she didn’t know incredibly well were present.
Here, she’s taking that chance. The proper circumstance has been found. The Strider takes her jackal-like form and nudges Amy with her head before curling up next to her sister.
[Amy] She clears her throat, raising her voice loud enough to be heard in the shower. And down the block probably.
“Jesus FUCK Matthews. Fucking rub one out in your own shower.”
[Amy] She pets Sarita, scratching gently at the back of her neck.
[Hunter] It isn’t that long before they hear the shower cease it’s rattling spray upon porcelain, earlier his voice had stopped croaking that horrible rendition of Queen’s most beloved song. When he emerges he has a towel about his waist, muscled form revealed but he doesn’t seem to take any notice of it, like it’s no big deal.
“Hey, hey, hey..” Hey says in soothing tones. “Man’s gotta clean up right? Man-sculpture and all that, whatever those metro fags call it.”
A pause and he looks at the jackal-like strider and the kin. Once upon a time his tribe called him Jackal, due to his pure chocolate brown coat, devoid of any tints or marring like the gnawers are used to. A long look at Sarita, a thoughtful expression and a smile. There is no mistaking the Ahroun for anything but a brutal killing machine in any of his forms, but something warms his heart when he sees the Jackal, something deeply personal.
He slumps against a wall and slides down to the ground.
“Like I’d beat one out in ‘the house’ that’s fuckin’ gross.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She makes a sound like a chuff, that sounds amused at Amy’s bellow. She lifts her head when Hunter comes out, head cocking a bit to the side. She watches him, then settles back down.
[Amy] “That’s gross? With all the shit John’s been doing to me like, all over this place?”
She grins, probably teasing.
[Hunter] “Ughhhhhhhhh, you did not just fuckin’ say that. What the hell amy. That’s like hearin’ about my sister gettin’ reamed by some biker. I don’t wanna know that shit.”
[Amy] She smiles sweetly, motioning him over. “Come sit the fuck down”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She makes a quick whining sound when Amy teases and looks at Hunter, since she knows he can likely .
Not want to know either.
Still, she’s got the amusement in her deeply expressive eyes. She settles her head down and shuts her eyes.
[Amy] “Oh for fuck’s sake, Sar. Calm the fuck down. We haven’t done anything, anywhere.”
She scritches behind ears, glancing at Hunter again.
[Hunter] He sighs, looks across at the Kinswoman and expresses what can only be described as fondness mixed with annoyance and humour. The fondness over-comes though, and he lifts onto his knees, keeping a secure grip on the towel at his waist and shuffles across the room to slump down next the Amy.
The look from Sarita is understood and he gives her a sympathetic glance, grinning. I know right? His body is warm, not spent of Rage, like a hot rock in the summer sun.
[Amy] She leans into him, head on his shoulder. “If I tell you that I love you, you’re going to know what I mean and not freak the fuck out on me, right?”
[Hunter] He blinks, looks at the Jackal-formed Sarita and laughs, like she always like this? A grin though, followed by an understanding smile – that’s what separates the humour from acknowledgement and he looks Amy in the eyes.
“Course, guess you understand why I had to wait for Joey then?”
[Amy] Joey is, apparently, somewhat of a sore spot with her. She nods, eyes on Sarita’s head as she gently pulls her ears.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] There is a decidedly human-like lifting of her shoulders, like a shrug. It looks exceptionally strange on her, but she’s too lazy right now to provide the full body language that would translate into You’re just figuring this out?
Not long after, the No-Moon’s breathing is slow and even, consciousness having left her.
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 4, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[Ever wonder why we even bother Emping Amy these days? 😀 ]]
[Hunter] “What’s up Amy? Ain’t got nothin’ smart to say about that?”
[im totally upping empathy this month]
[Amy] [It won’t help. She’s fireproof]
[Amy] Her head shakes a little.
“What did he say?”
[Hunter] “What did who say?”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Thanks for the scene you guys. 🙂 Night!]]
[Amy] “Don’t be an ass. You said you were going to talk to him while you were in the shower.”