[Roman Turner] When the door was pulled open in response to the knock, it was Roman himself that opened it. Polite, believe it or not, when not acting his Moon, Roman was a polite person.
“Well howdy, what can I do ya for?”
He stepped back to wave Sarita in to the vast expanse of the church they called Pack House. Inside the surviving pews had been pushed to one side. A fire crackled in an old hearth on the other. Tables and chairs were strewn about, with most surfaces covered in carry out food boxes.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Hey there, you.” She smiles when she walks in. She’s never actually met Roman before. They were present at the moot together, and at Joey’s Ragabash meeting, but they didn’t interact at either and not much was said by either of them at either meeting. Still, she refers to him as if they do know each other. She steps inside, looking around.
“I love the packhouse motif. Nicely done.” And then a look back at the Gaian. “How are you, Roman?”
[Roman Turner] Paint spatters decorated the old gray tee that also bore a few holes where it stretched across his shoulders, showing the bones beneath. Dark mottled flesh rose up from the neck of that tee like fingers reaching for his jaw where the scar tissue reformed once smooth flesh. Grease, paint and lord knows what was smeared across the thighs and seat of the carpenter jeans he wore. There was even a hammer in the loop on the jeans.
“Me? I’m well and good.”
His puzzled gaze flashed towards Sarita’s face with the question as he shot the instant response out. Not many bothered to ask how he was. Those gray-blue eyes of his rest on Sarita for several moments even as he followed polite rules.
“How are you? And congrads on what I hope ain’t a pain for ya.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I’m good, I’m good.” She smiles, finding his puzzled expression a bit amusing. “And thanks. I’m hoping that too, though I’m not expecting to be quite that lucky. You know what we’re all like. But I like a challenge.” Obviously, she includes herself in ‘us,’ and the comment is a good-natured one.
“That’s actually why I came here. Wanted to touch base with you, both just checking up in a general way and in a more specific way regarding the Brotherhood construction hijinks.”
[Roman Turner] “Hijinks?”
One dark brown brow rose. This was one of those odd situations. He was younger, yet a Fostern. Sarita was now the representative for the Ragabash in the city, acting as organizer and counsel to the Sept Leader in time of need. So it was with those big ole faded denim eyes of his that he gave Sarita his most innocent, puzzled look.
“Since word came down not to mess with them, all we been doing is watching. Gave this report at the meeting Imogen held the other night with all them folk there. So far we seen lots of protesting and yelling between the protesters and workers. Seen some of them Italian looking sorts sneak in during the middle of the night to steal their own supplies. Seen them same sort screaming about robbery the next morning. I think they are trying to stir up more crap between their workers and the protesters. I also think with them calling and reporting the theft, they are making money off the insurance company and then selling their stolen goods right back to their own company.”
[Roman Turner] ((Hey, my AIM is Bluwyng))
to Sarita Ecos de la Risa
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She nods, listening. The Strider leans back against the wall as she does so. She’s not making aggressive or territorial motions as the conversation about the Brotherhood goes on. She’s not giving any body language indications, at the moment at least, like she’s trying to pull rank. She’s just absorbing all the information and processing it.
“That’s slick of them.” She smiles a bit and nods. “I’ll give ’em credit, it makes our supporters look like shit. Anything else that you’ve noticed?”
[Roman Turner] “Nah, mostly we watch them work. Been doing it in shifts between some of us. Then we compare notes. Staying out of sight and mind. Now, the theurges done took a look across the gauntlet and mostly just seen some of the strife spirits and such are starting to take notice and come closer. But ya might want to talk to them about what they seen. They gave a report at that meeting too.”
He waved to the pews.
“Want to take a load off?”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Don’t mind if I do.” She grins and moves to take a seat.
“Man…last time I sat on one-a these, I was worried that the skin on the backs of my legs were gonna start burning and bubbling off.” A chuckle. “What I’m sayin’ is…it’s been a while.”
She leans back, nodding to Roman. “Okay. So do you have any thoughts on what the next step should be?”
[Roman Turner] “I think we should keep watching. If a truck turns up in the middle of the night to steal from them, then we need to get the license if we can.”
He walked towards the corner, lifting the lid on a cooler.
“Want a beer or pop?”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Beer’d be great, thanks.” She leans back, nodding. She’s thoughtful for a moment.
“Licenses would be good. It’d be something we could give to Izzy or Derek, have then run the plates. Though if it’s the mob like I’ve been told, then the cops will only be able to do so much. How many people do you have working it?”
[Roman Turner] “Five volunteers.”
He came back with two beers, offering a bottle to Sarita. Water dripped from the brown glass, a chip of ice falling off.
“I asked them I seen and them that was staying at the Brotherhood and got five volunteers. Otherwise we would be standing around ignoring the Elephant in the room, ya know?”
He settled on the back of the pew. The beer hissed as he twisted off the lid.
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “No, totally. The initiative is good, and I’m glad you stepped up and got on it.” She nods popping the top of hers. “All I’d like to do is get everyone on the same page, get you some more people so that each of you aren’t spending hours a day keeping an eye out. If you give me a list, I’ll get the word out to the rest of the No-Moons, see who else we can get in the rotation.”
[Roman Turner] “Well, I ain’t entirely sure who is out there anymore. This Sept has a revolving door, ya know? But them that was helping are me, Michael, Melody, Janis, Milo and Marni.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he took a swallow of his drink. Dragging the back of his sleeve across his mouth he continued.
“I’m sure ya know more of us than I do and ya might want to talk to them Theurges”
And then it was like a light bulb went off in his head.
“Oh man, I just remembered something.”
[Roman Turner] “Michael, he said he saw two men meeting just outside the fence while he was watching. He caught a few words, like Stooge, low risk and informant and take down. Dang, I forgot all about that the other night at that there meeting.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She frowns at that. “How long ago was that?”
[Roman Turner] “Hmm, day before Doctor Slaughter’s get together I think? Ain’t seen nothing of note since then. Though we’re still hiding and lurking around the place.”
Another drink and a nod, his own brows furrowed together thoughtfully.
“No, it was the same day of the meeting.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She thinks. Four days…crap. “I need to get that to Derek or Izzy. If that’s a police informant within the mob, they could be our best friend…or, conceivably, a major snag. And it could get ugly if a police informant gets taken down right outside the Brotherhood.”
[Roman Turner] “We ain’t been tailing no one what comes to the site, so I can’t tell ya. Not been doing nothing but watching since word came down to sit on our hands, ya know?”
Rubbing his nose, he thought for a moment.
“I reckon it could mean a police informant, but who knows for sure? Maybe like ya said, Izzy or Derek might have some idea.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Yeah. When I think the mob and I think informants, that’s what comes to mind for me, but it could be someone else I suppose.”
She sighs. “I guess for the moment it’s business as usual. See, if possible, if you can get any photo evidence of them stealing their own supplies without giving yourself away. We may not want to use it, but it’s better to have and not need then need and not have, you know? We might be able to give that to the right people to counteract what they’re doing, should the need come about.”
[Roman Turner] “Well, not so sure about getting away with a picture, though we can try. And might be we could follow any interesting lead to a vehicle and get the plate numbers at the very least. Though them pictures would be great proof if we don’t have to say who got em.”
He grinned, tipping the bottle back again.
“I’ll spread the word, unless ya want to take over or join in?”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “That was my thought.” She smiles. “Leaking them anonymously or something if we need to. But again, only if we need to. No need to kick up a hornet’s nest if we don’t gotta.
“I might join in. It’s a Sept-concerning issue, we definitely need to keep everyone aware of what’s going on. I’m still sort of taking stock of stuff, getting the lay of the land. Lemme get back to you on that one. Right now I’m more wanting to get the information flow going more freely.”
[Roman Turner] “Alrighty.”
His weight shifted on the bench, thumping the hammer’s handle against the back of the pew.
“Ya got a fine line to walk now. A line between trying to earn the trust of a bunch of New Moons who rather shake things up. And them what take themselves too serious sometimes.”
A grin teased his lips for a moment.
“Better you than me. I’m more for doing than talking about it in some meetin.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She chuckles. “Yeah, believe me, I didn’t get into this for the easy ride.” She gives a wink. “I know it’s gonna be a tricky gig, but someone’s gotta do it, right? Like I said though, I appreciate you taking charge on this whole thing.”
A pause. “Did Michael perchance give you any details on what these guys talking about informants and such looked like?”
[Roman Turner] He considered her a long moment then softly said.
“That’s not why ya challenged. Not because someone’s gotta do it.”
And just like that he switched with a shake of his head, his voice once more it’s normal conversational tone.
“Nope, not sure he got a good look at them. But ya might jar his memory a little more if ya talk to him. I can ask him, if ya don’t want to.”
“Ya hungry? Got some chips if ya want.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She furrows her brow, still smiling…though more curiously now. “Yeah…actually, it was. That and the fact that I thought I could do the job justice.”
A little shrug, and she nods. “I can talk to him, no worries. And no, no thank you. I’m good.”
[Roman Turner] “Nah, ya did it for the second part. Cause ya know, this Sept is unique, this seat is unique. It’s mostly an honorary thing, not depending on rank or standing, but the will to help when asked and to try and organize others when the need arises. The real reason ya stepped up for it now, rather than wait for the moot, was because ya thought ya could do it. Be honest with yourself, never do something just because someone’s gotta do it. Do it because your heart speaks to ya. Because your heart tells ya this is what ya can do. That way it’s not a job, it’s more something your soul can take pride in. Ya know?”
He winked and slid from the pew to walk over to one of the tables where he snatched up a bag of chips with a loud crinkling rattle of the bag.
“Sure ya don’t want some of these? French Onion, Sour Cream.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She watches him, listening. There’s a little smile on her face. She’s not angry at the implications at all. “Well…honestly, the only reason I didn’t wait was because I didn’t think we could afford to. We need someone heading up the scouting with a Hive at our door. You’re right though, that I stepped up because I thought I could, and that it felt lie something I could feel confident doing. The kicker was the need, and I guess they were both pretty equal reason.”
She’s appreciative of the way he lays it out. It’s exactly what a Ragabash should do. “I’m sure. You don’t wanna know what kind of gastrointestinal Olympics those cause in me. But thank you.”
[Roman Turner] He slapped his knew, laughing.
“Well now, ya gotta remember, I’m a guy and we live for ways to regal each other with just how nasty, how stankin, and how loud and long our farts are.”
[Roman Turner] His knew=his knee (this boy’s brain is on shutdown, sorry)
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She laughs at that. “Yeah, I know. Still…I should get going. Lemme give you my number, though. You need anything, gimme a call. I wanna make all the No-Moon’s jobs as easy as I can.”
She reaches in and grabs a piece of paper, pre-scribbled, and hands it over.
[Roman Turner] He did better, he pulled his phone out and programmed her in right away. Even offering his number for her phone.
“Who ya packing with?”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I’m packed up with the Unbroken.” She pulls out her phone and types hers in as well. “If you ever need to find me, you can come by Bellemonte Loft, and worst comes to worst leave a message.”
[Roman Turner] “I’ll call if anything ever becomes that important.”
He rose with a smile to take her bottle and walk her to the door.
“Nice to sort of meet ya Sarita. Just use your smarts, don’t aim to impress and ya’ll do fine.”
[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “That’s the plan.” She grins and heads along. “Catch you later, man.”
And with that, she’s out. [[Exeunt!]]