Chatty - 10.6.2013 [Milton]

Lola Hawkes

This time of night is when the parking lot of the Sprouts grocery store in Castle Rock, Colorado was finally starting to ebb its way vacant, or at least less-packed from the evening rush that it had endured. This was when the housewives with their children in tow, and the dreadlock-wearing hippie girls that wouldn't wear undergarments were packing their local organic foods into their Subarus and driving on home.

Lola's truck-- a big somewhat rusty white thing that was made in the mid to late 1980's-- is parked in this parking lot as well.  This wasn't because Lola was in doing any grocery shopping, though.  Her truck was parked near the back of the lot instead, because it was someplace to leave the vehicle while she went out on patrols.

The weather had been pleasant all day, with clear blue skies and temperatures up into the high sixties.  Lola was dressed prepared both for the heat of the sun and the cool of the night.  She wore a pair of dark wash, straight-legged jeans and a pair of brown ankle boots, with a loose gray tank-top that fit flatteringly rather than just strictly utilitarian.  Her dense black hair was left down to fall around her shoulders and back.

When the sun had dipped below the horizon about an hour ago and the temperatures made a sharp drop by twenty degrees, a hunter green hoodie was added to the mix (yanked from her truck when she circled by it at about 7:00pm), and she currently wore the sweater unzipped with the hood up over her head.  Her hands were in her pockets, and though no one could see it she had a gun concealed under her tank top at her lower back, in a holster strapped around her waist and against her skin.

She was taking a break on a bus bench, out on the sidewalk in front of the Sprouts grocery store.  She'd procured a bottle of Gatorade several minutes ago and was enjoying that while watching traffic roll by-- both vehicular and on foot.


Milton Kegler

The sound of his music was blaring as he pulled into the parking lot. His stereo system, however, wasn't precisely up to par. The booming bass that should be shaking the windows in the area was tinny and weak. More than that the music, was neither in the hip hop, nor the rock and roll catwegories that usually went along with booming music offending everyone who heard it. One's best guess would be some kind of asian pop... A keen ear would pick out the Korean language, and the music itself was uplifting and bubbly. Hey he had his hand hanging slightly outside his window, and he bobbed his head along to the music as if this somehow made him just as gangsta as anyone else.

His car didn't zoom into the lot, it rolled, taking it's sweet time, as he casually strolled up and down the lanes looking for a spot, or perhaps just waiting for the music to end. When he did find a spot he slid into it comfortably enough and slipped out of the car to adjust his tie and slam the door shut.

His walk TO the Grocery store, however, stood out more than anything. It was hard to tell what he was doing as he took slow steps towards the front of the store, adding a little bounce to each one, but by the gruff look upon his face a clever mind would soon realize he was attempting to look badass while slow motion walking to the front of the store. It would be easy enough to imagine that this got him at least a few stares as people pondered what in the hell he might be doing.

His notice of Lola was an interesting one, he clearly looked at her... For a surprisingly long time, even freezing a moment as if he was simply shocked to see her, however the second she looked at him he looked away and pretended to be something particularly badass, like leaning against the trunk of a car!

*Bwoop bwoop, woo woo woo woo woo woo woo!*

The sound of a car alarm immediately startled him and immediately he jumped from his seat looking flustered. "Fuck fuck fuck!" He says as he pulls out his iPhone and immediately begins fidgeting around with it. A couple seconds later the twirp of the alarm is heard twice as it shuts itself off!

With that done he continues his walk towards that bench, the entire way making it look as if he doesn't even see the woman seated on the bench. Cause... You know... That's what it's like for a gangtsa motherfucker like... Ahem... Milton. Women are a dime a dozen! He doesn't have time to notice or remember every single one! Right? Yeah... That's it!


Lola Hawkes

Some Kinfolk are more finely tuned in to the world that their Cousins inhabit-- the one that Kinfolk themselves are supposed to be living half-in and half-out of.  They were supposed to be the in-between, the connection between the human world and the one that the Garou lived in.  Lola, however, didn't live in the human world hardly at all.  Truth be told, Milton probably spent more time among humans than Lola did.

The fact that she spent so much of her time with Garou, and so little of it with regular humans, meant she was more attuned to them.  She noticed them, picked up on their Rage and spiritual energies, could distinguish them for what they were from the crowd without any doubt in her mind.

Lola didn't notice Milton, due to the parking lot being behind her, until the car alarm went off.  Her posture straightened up, stiffened at the spine, and she twisted around to look behind her and see where the ruckus was coming from.  She didn't recognize Milton immediately as the boy she'd seen out in the Bawn, but when he'd startled away from the sharp sounds of the car whose alarm was screeching at him, there was a flexing spike of Rage that tipped her off.  Recognizing that he was a Garou was what triggered her memory of briefly encountering him on a patrol the other night.

He turned off the alarm by tapping at his smart phone, and Lola's eyebrows raised when she saw this happen.  She watched him, open and unabashed, while he put his phone away, fidgeted some, and started walking right toward the bench while making an effort not to look at her.  This refusal to meet her eye, or any other part of her, didn't phase the Kinfolk any.  She noticed it, sure, and scoffed quietly to herself for it, but didn't call him out on it right away.  Instead she took a drink of her Gatorade, screwed the lid back on, and stayed twisted on the bench to watch him approach, one arm stretched along the bench's backrest like she was claiming the entire piece of public furniture to herself.

"So," she said, open and unconcerned by the lack of pedestrians about.  "You must be a Glass Walker.  I thought as much, first time I saw you."


Milton Kegler

There were rules to garou society! They were etched in stone ages ago, carved into the walls of caverns in times long since passed. The problem is that caverns erode, along with the writing on those walls. Nothing is permanent, not even the earth, not even the moon! Nothing can be permanent... For if it were, wouldn't that mean the weaver had won?

Milton could shout this shit out all he wanted, and it would be his place! He was a New Moon, and his moon was still high overhead in the sky, a sliver of light shining down upon them! However, that kinda shit just took the fun out of life!

Lola was... Some other tribe! He didn't even know if she was kin or garou for certain! The one thing he did know was he was young, and right now the mixture of hormones and rage were doing quite a number on the otherwise nerdy looking young man, whom you'd expect to be at home right now with his head buried in a book. Yet here he was... Out and about! Probably on some spy mission, recovering secret information about the wyrm to return to some super secret paramilitary organization within his tribe so they could lash out against the Wyrm in the region! No doubt Lola was weak in the knees just thinking about it! Cause who wouldn't be? Super Markets hold... All... Kinds... of... secrets!

"Oh yeah?" He says back to her. "Was it the "I don't take no shit from no one" walk?" He asks her with a surprisingly friendly grin on his face. "Yeah, I'm pretty fuckin' badass if I do say so myself, but I don't like to admit shit like that cause I don't like people who brag too much, they're assholes! Right?" He asks her curiously.

The old days were just that... The old days. If he got punched in the face for hitting on someone's kin... He got punched in the face for hitting on someone's kin! But if there was one thing Milton did not do, it was giving things large amounts of thought before jumping into them! Well... Some things anyway! Mostly when it made him look good! Or sometimes when he was bored... Come to think of it, that really doesn't represent him at all, just the moment!

"How about you? You trueborn or kin or...?" Or what? Skindancer? Fomori? Still he seemed not to be stumbling too much with his words while a girl was talking to him! Way to go Milton!


Lola Hawkes

He'd asked what gave it away, and surprisingly his words earned a smirk from Lola rather than a scowl.  She came across as something of a tough bitch-- it was easy to peg her for an Ahroun.  She was firmly toned-- except where she was carrying womanly padding about the chest and hips.  Even with that, though, her stomach was hard and her shoulders and arms were strong and her legs were thick with muscle, even encased inside of her jeans as they were.  She held herself with confidence, her chin was always high and eyes never cast down to avoid someone's face or gaze.  Her tone of voice was filled with that self confidence as well.  She seemed the kind of person that wouldn't hesitate to push you against a wall and bash your head into it a few times if you so much as looked at her wrong.
But, rather than scoffing at him for asking if his badass walk made it abundantly clear that he was a Glass Walker, she'd smiled-- even if it was tinted with a bit of superiority.

"No."  She shot down his questions about his own badassery, his fishing for affirmation on the matter, with a simple matter-of-fact negative.  "It was how you turned off a stranger's car alarm with your phone."

He'd asked what she was, and she turned about so she was sitting more comfortably in the bench, no longer twisted around to look behind her but instead facing Milton directly since he'd circled around to the sidewalk.  Her arm was still hooked up and resting on the back of the bench, though.  Still claiming the seat for herself, even though she was sitting on one side of it and not in the center.

"I'm Kinfolk.  But don't let that fool ya."


Milton Kegler

Milton lacked both the strength and the curves of Lola! He was a skinny guy, quick on his feet when he needed to be, but boney and slender. It would be easy enough to write him off as nothing more than your typical nerd were it not for that unbelievably overconfident stride of his!

She corrects him, if it wasn't his badass walk then what in the hell was it? His smile faded, but only for a second before he takes the time to look back at the car for a second, and then back at the woman. "Yeah, well... What can I say, I happen to be good with machines, computers, and... Things like that! It's kinda my thing, I guess you could say! My super power!" He adds with that smile only growing brighter.

He forgot the rule he had set just the other night about being quiet and saying next to nothing. Then again Milton had a really hard time setting his mind towards much of anything for more than a minute or two! If anything was his curse it was his incredible lack of patience.

Her mention of not letting the kinfolk thing fool him made him look at her, surprisingly puzzled for a moment. "I..." He looked around, he was rarely the kind to be confused so clearly he was out of his element right here. "Why would that... Fool me?" He finally asks her with a nervous little laugh, he wasn't sure what to make of that response.


Lola Hawkes

His superpower was technology, he informed her.  Lola's eyebrows-- dark, distinct, expressive-- rose with something between interest, distain, and understanding all rolled into one.  He could tell from the look of her that she was a rural girl, that would've been gathered from the very first time he encountered her out patrolling a National Park on a cold night unescorted, not dragged out there by a boyfriend or some such other.

Her skin was dusky, hair dense and healthy, and she wore no make-up on her face.  She didn't smell like perfume or body spray, simply of soap, shampoo, and the air that they breathed.  His 'superpower' was something utterly foreign to her.  He could guess that she probably didn't even know how to use a smart phone to its most basic capabilities.

That swagger that he spoke with (though Lola wasn't yet convinced that he'd earned such tone to his words as of yet, he seemed quite young) stumbled when she'd warned him not to let her being Kinfolk fool him.   He didn't know what to make of it, obviously, so he asked (though he was nervous to do so, it seemed).

Lola wasn't being unfriendly or aggressive to the young man, she hadn't been given a reason to yet.  When she was dealing with Garou or other Kinfolk that she wasn't being hostile toward, she was at least welcoming, even if she was gruff.  The arm over the back of the bench seat moved, stretched behind her and the bench instead.  This opened the space for Milton to take if he wanted, though she didn't directly offer or ask him to sit.

"Folks tend to think that being a Kinfolk makes you incapable.  Or soft.  Or a pushover.  I'm none of these things."  Her head nodded across the street, although the gesture was intended to be broader than that and indicate the entirety of Castle Rock.  "I'm patroling here.  There was some shit last week with teenagers finding some spirit-possessed pendant that had them feeling in a killing mood.  I'm out here making sure that no similar shit has kicked up again.

"If I find it, and if it has?  I'll put an end to it, just like any Garou would."


Milton Kegler

He gives a little nod of his head. "Maybe that shit was true like ten thousand years ago when there were half a million of us and our enemies fought with tooth and claw and wooden clubs..." He says with a little laugh. "It's a different world, it's been that way since the gun leveled the playing field against us, now our enemies can cut us down from three hundred miles away with a couple bunker busters dropped from a UAV. The way I see it, there's only so many true borns, and a hell of a lot more kin right? If we can't bring them into the fight beside us we might as well just lay down and accept extinction right?" That, right there, was the ragabash inside him speaking, it was also the glasswalker, and it was largely why the Urrah were so heavily frowned upon, because they wanted to uproot the traditions of an entire society and gear it towards something better suited to fighting in the modern world.

"Nice to hear the rural folks are startin' to move a little more into the modern world. I mean, I'm the same as the next day... If I had an endless supply of gorgeous baby machines just waitin' to make more for me, I wouldn't wanna let that go either, but sooner or later you gotta ask yourself! Do I wanna get laid, or do I wanna be alive? I say be alive... Cause you can't get laid if you're not alive right? I mean I guess unless your a vampire! Zombies too maybe but that'd just be fuckin' gross! I want nothin' to do with Zombie Sex!" He laughs a little at that thought. "And I don't think ghosts and banshees and the like can even have sex so I think we've pretty much ruled most of the other options out!"


Lola Hawkes

Milton goes on his minor speech about how Kinfolk are necessary, that they need to be able to stand beside their Garou cousins because they existed in droves more.  He explains that guns and other explosive weapons levelled the playing field in ways that claws, summoned Spirits, and teeth could not even come near to.

He says all of this, and an odd light strikes in Lola's eyes.  Something close to inspiration but not quite there yet-- closer to intense empathy and agreement, a riling behind the statement he was making.  Now she was gesturing for him to sit and join her, sweeping her hand toward the seat next to her.

She might be regretting it, though, because he somehow went on a tilt about who could or couldn't have sex based on their definition of liveliness.  Lola stared at him while he spoke on that topic, eyebrows knitted together in something that said, plainly:  What the hell is wrong with you?

Nose still wrinkled from the 'what the hell' look, she started speaking again, a little slow at first but resuming normal pacing as she went on.  "So...  You don't fight tooth and claw too much, then?  You stumble in your wolf form?"


Milton Kegler

He caught her look and he laughed softly then he shook his head. "You're misunderstanding me. How do I put this a little better?" He pauses a moment, as he took up a seat and shrugged his shoulders. "There was a time long ago in North Africa and the middle east where men kept dozens of women as wives right? I mean, who wouldn't like that? I mean what guy wouldn't like that? So I can relate to why men wouldn't want to give that life up! Though, as it turns out, women can do a lot more than make babies. They can invent things, they can run businesses, they can advance science, they can fight in our wars... So it's kinda useless to keep them bottled up in houses raising our babies these days right? Especially if we're in a life or death struggle against overwhelming odds." He looks back to her and gives a laugh. "That's the point I was trying to make! These aren't those old days anymore. We can't just leave our kin on the side lines as cheerleaders and babymakers, we're missing out on an extremely powerful resource in the war if we do that! A war, we're not winning I should add!" He says back to her. Apparently his wording wasn't taken in the same way as he had intended her to take it. So... Naturally, he corrected himself!

She then asks if he fights tooth and claw much and he shrugs his shoulders. "The way I see it the Garou nation is kinda like a guy who put his money into a vending machine to get a Coke, but nothin' came out! So rather than going to talk to the manager he decides to hit it until nothin' comes out right? And he hits it and he hits it and he hits it... And he breaks his knocles and his wrist, and nothin' happens so he rams it until his shoulder breaks and still nothin' happens, and he bites it and he kicks is... And eventually... It's either not gonna do anything and he's gonna wind up with a ton of broken bones and in jail, or it's gonna fall on top of him and kill him. Either way, the Soda Machine wins right?" He looks at her with a little smile. "I'm the guy who says "Hey calm down man... Let's talk to the Manager!" and if that doesn't work... I get my tools and blow the damn thing open for him! I can fight if I have to, but if we don't start mixing up our methods, we're never gonna win this thing right?"


Lola Hawkes

When Lola had gone out today, tossing her hoodie in the passenger seat of her truck bench and tucking some cash and an I.D. card in her back pocket, she had anticipated being alone until she came back home.  She wasn't meeting anyone for this patrol, no messages had gone out expressing that there would be a duo or trio of Garou that she could meet up with.  This was supposed to be a duty that cleared her mind and shook things up from the norm that was her patrols across the expanse of the Bawn.

She hadn't at all anticipated that she would encounter the young man that seemed lost that particularly cold evening at the Caern's grounds, though.

She certainly hadn't anticipated that he would be nearly this chatty.

He gets so far as 'They can invent things, they can run businesses,' before he is cut off-- sharply and rudely.  Lola shakes her head, the motion sudden and seeming a little out of the blue.  Her eyes hadn't begun to glaze for a lack of paying attention, it just seemed that her patience had reached a very abrupt end.  She even went so far as to make a 'Tsst!' noise with her teeth pressed together, enforcing that he stop his speech.

"That's enough."  Her palms found the bottom of the bench, and arms pushed to help her back up to her feet.  She adjusted the zipper on her hoodie, then remembered the Gatorade bottle and snatched that up from the bench as well.  "I didn't ask for a goddamn exposition."

While the poor boy may still be trying to figure out where he screwed up, if he said something wrong, or if he was just throwing off the wrong kind of vibes that would scare a Kinfolk away on this, a night of his Moon, Lola nods her head to him, clearly intent on making a very abbreviated farewell.  "You get back on your way, then, and I need to be on mine."


Milton

He is caught with his jaw open, he looked a little startled by her interruption and he looks around for a moment or two before he catches up on what might have offended her, a second time in a row. He is quick to recover, though, he might not have the roguish good looks of some of his kind, or the raw feral demeanor, but if there was anything Milton was good at it was thinking on his feet.

She was quick to dismiss him, but he pushed his lips into a smile no less. "That's fine!" He says half excitedly, he recovers quickly. "Though stopping me where you did takes everything I was saying completely out of context." He quickly responds, before rising to his feet and looking around, and then back to her. "But it's cool, if you want me to be the asshole, I can handle it! Just remember it was your choice not mine!" When he is finished he looks out towards the cars.

He then sighs and looks around for a moment or two to allow her the chance to go, indeed wondering what in the hell he must have done to her! Maybe she just didn't like him? No... It couldn't be that! Who doesn't like Milton? Well, not counting all those people who hate his guts!

"I'll uh... See ya round! We can catch up sometime, talk about old times!" He says loud enough that she'd be able to hear him. Then he heads for the entrance mumbling more softly to himself. "Remember that time I was all like "Women can make suff and work jobs!" like it was somehow this amazing revelation? That was cool huh? Go women's lib!" He says before holding up his hand with a bright smile on his face to a man exiting the store. "High Five!" He calls out, and the only natural response was to high five in response.

Milton's grin gets smug after that! After all the guy has no idea that he just high fived a man who was only just moments ago mistaken for a total sexist, which by extension makes the man who just high fived him in a mistaken sexist two! That means he won't have to wallow in his misery forever! That makes two men who won't be gettin' laid tonight!

Then, as quickly as it began, Milton forgets all about it and simply remembers the fact that he's bumped into that girl twice now! That had to be fate! None of the other technicalities really mattered. It would appear Milton's skin was thick enough not to take anything too personal for more than a second or two! How much longer was he likely to live anyway? One? Two years tops? So soon enough Milton was wearing that bewitching smile of his as he strode confidently down the aisles! Life is way too short to get hung up on bitches!


Lola Hawkes

The Glass Walker's jaw is slack for a second, while he watches the Hispanic-Native woman with blood that shimmered like water on the scales of Uktena's back.  Then he brings himself back to his senses, forces a smile and a chipper tone, and expresses that he could be 'the asshole' if she wanted it that way.

The fact that he makes this statement still with the smile on his face has Lola raising her eyebrows and switching her posture.  She's leaned back, just a little bit, and her feet are firm on the ground, spaced to best distribute her weight.  This isn't something she'd doing to try and distance herself from him further without being obvious.  Rather, she seems ready for confrontation.  Like she's expecting that he'll push the matter, ride that 'you made me out to be the asshole' accusation into something more firey and pushy.

She was already walking through the motions in her head-- if he spat out something insulting at her, or if he made an even poorer choice and reached for her, she would smack him just below the sternum, where the wind would be knocked from his lungs.  Then she'd probably shove him over, or knock his glasses off, or something similarly elementary school in flavor before going on her merry way.

But it doesn't come to that.  Instead, Milton says that he'll see her around and turns about, returns through the grocery store parking lot to head inside.  Lola makes no move to stop him.  In the end she doesn't even comment on how she'd interrupted him and how that might have insulted him.

"Yeah, we'll see," is all she gives as a farewell when he says that they'll catch up sometime.

Lola watches him stroll toward the door, and makes a 'hmph' noise that's caught between amusement and good riddance when he high-fives a stranger and walks inside.  Her fingers unscrew the lid to her Gatorade bottle, the rest of the brightly colored drink is killed off where she stands, and then the plastic garbage left behind is discarded in a bin set up beside the bus bench.

Her hands find her hoodie pockets, jam deep inside, and she turns to head away from the store, up the sidewalk so she may continue her patrol as originally intended.