Hector Ghosh
Try
to explain to someone how to keep breathing after you've had the wind
knocked out of you. It isn't a process or a conscious decision. You just
keep doing it. No choice in it and no analysis.
Twelve of them
down into that pit and they were bloody and torn-up when they came back
up out of it and they couldn't say they won because that would be
bullshit. Three of the Beloved Horror to include their terrible alpha
got away. But the portal is closed. The Spire Sept can rest. The twelve
didn't think of it like that. They didn't think much at all. Too
enormous an ordeal and too little time to sit and chat. Blood-drenched
in the middle of the city as they were they scattered.
They took
Thomas to see Fog as soon as it was over. Thomas went home to his
people. Hector went home to Lola. Took Tamsin with him. They sprayed
themselves down and he stayed with his packsister until she fell asleep
but then he went downstairs to find his woman.
Nobody needs to
hear about what they did when the door was shut. Hector
Echoes-of-the-Lost blurted out the fact that the woman is pregnant while
he was kicking Milton Pokes-the-Mind's-Eye in the ribs on the side of
the highway Thursday night. It's pretty obvious they aren't playing
pinochle out there in the cabin all but isolated from the rest of the
Nation.
---
Dawn comes. Dawn will come the morning after one
of them dies and it will keep coming after the last human life is
starved off the surface of the planet because that is what Dawn does.
And
after they eat and he tells her what happened and she peppers him with
questions and gloats for Lola's half-formed cleansing-bomb idea
contributed to saving them all from fucking dying Hector ties back his
hair and puts on his boots and says he's going to go bother Thomas. They
need to stop off at the liquor store first.
She's coming with him, right?
---
His
house skulks out there in the woods like some paranoid libertarian
millionaire's total-collapse-of-society hideaway shelter and even from a
distance as they wander up towards its front Lola can imagine what
Hector's reaction was to seeing it the first time. Like as not the same
one she has.
He's holding the brown paper bag into which the liquor store purchase went against his chest like it's a very small child.
"He
didn't mope too bad last night," he says to Lola as they mount the
front porch steps. "Maybe he's getting the hang of this
being-an-unstoppable-death-machine thing."
And he taps a one-handed rendition of his usual SOMEONE ANNOYING IS AT THE DOOR :D drum-line knock against the door.
Thomas Delacroix
It's
true. Thomas did not mope last night. They may not have destroyed
Beloved Horror but they survived. With the exception of Raspberry Sky,
but her death didn't seem to really so much as register to Thomas as
more than a thing that happened. (And so, almost certainly, he'll mope
about it later.)
He's relaxed when he comes to the door, because
he has learned Hector's knock. For a second he is smiling from the
automatic position where he is leaning into the doorframe with the door
only half open, because of course Thomas would answer the door
like it needs to be guarded reflexively. He steps back when it
registers on him that he is, in fact, guarding his house from Hector and
Lola, swinging the door open.
"Hey. Come in." It is the most
sane response Hector has ever gotten from him at a doorway, although it
probably seems less remarkable to Lola. Despite the impressive size of
the house, the furniture is mostly simple. Unremarkable. Wood and
leather with almost no ornamentation. Reese has brought in, gradually,
more and more bits of electronics, but most of those are tucked away.
Really, the only remarkable thing inside the house is that someone has
painted abstract murals over at least one wall in pretty much every
room.
Lola Hawkes
Yesterday, Lola, just like
everyone else, was under the impression that this was a simple
investigation mission. They were going townstairs to see, to peek at,
and then come back to make a battle plan. So when Hector had left to
meet with a mass of other Garou, Lola did not wring herself with worry.
She was assured that he would be home. When Tamsin and Hector returned
drenched in blood Lola had been out on the front porch in one of the
rocking chairs, taking advantage of the mild weather and watching the
land, as well as for the Wolves to come home.
When they did arrive
she had fallen asleep in her chair-- this was becoming a habit these
days. They made noise hosing one another off that roused the Kinswoman,
and she soon transferred herself to bed after reassurance that nobody
she knew well had died.
She was roused a second time in the wee
hours of the morning when Hector transferred himself from the loft
upstairs where Tamsin crashed (where most Garou that need a place to
crash while coming through, provided Lola likes them enough to let them
in) to the bed of his kinswoman.
---------
The next morning
they ate together, they spoke, and the Galliards would share the rough
edit of what happened last night. Lola's proud, of course, that the
first thought to fall from her mind and toss back to the Alpha of
Celduin was the concept that very well saved the day. She acknowledges
that there were casualties, but she didn't know Raspberry Sky at all and
was a bit callous with the concept of death at war. It was an
unfortunate loss, but it wasn't anyone she especially cared about.
Hector
asked if she would come along with him to go out and visit Thomas the
Shadow Lord. Lola didn't have any reasons not to, so she agreed.
---------
"Jesus
Fucking Christ," is what Lola says when they pull up to the front of
the Delacroix house in the middle of the trees. "Where the hell does
this money come from?"
But she's bored with the concept of wealth
almost as quickly as she is impressed by it. She's wearing a black
dress whose hem stops at the knee, because the weather was warm and the
skies were bright and this was likely her last opportunity to feel air
on her legs this way until next year. She has a knit wool cardigan
overtop, with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows, and brown boots that
stop a little way up her shin to end. Her hair's looped back in a
half-attempt at a bun, but really she'd just hastily wrapped it about
near the base of her neck and secured it sloppily with an elastic.
When
Thomas appears in the doorway and invites them in, Lola greets him with
an upward nod of her head rather than a bright and sunny smile. You
see, Lola wasn't a bright and sunny person. That she doesn't smile for
Thomas doesn't mean she has ill will toward him, and he likely
recognizes this by now. After all, he's seen what this Kinswoman prides
herself on doing.
"You a painting kind of Gibbous Moon?" She asks him this after stepping inside and seeing the walls.
Javed Anubis-Sight
It
is a funny moment in time, that the Strider shows up when Hector and
Lola do. One of those kismet things...or perhaps it is not. Perhaps
Javed was keeping an eye on one or both of them, to make sure that
Th'vak'nis or D'stok or Je'nash did not seek retribution against one or
the other members of Celduin.
In truth though, that's not the
case. The metis trusts the members of Fog's pack and has confidence in
them, never more so than after last night. The Strider may not express
it in the same way others might; he is not a creature that feels much in
the way of pride. But he was honored to fight with them, to do the
impossible. And the impossible is exactly what they accomplished. They
left bloody and torn and emptied of so much that was important to them,
but they left triumphant. Never mind the fact that three escaped.
Never mind that another Garou of Denver lost their life, albeit one who
had much sickness to tend to. They banished Green Dragon and they
killed three high-ranking Black Spiral Dancers. And they did it without
losing a single member of their expedition.
That's victory.
And
now healed and whole again, he makes his way to Thomas'. The Strider
is still walking slowly; healing fixes a lot, but it does not banish the
weariness. And the Strider is very weary, but it is a satisfied
weary. They could be much worse.
And so, moments after the door
closes, another knock sounds. Javed stands there in his single set of
clothes. The grey tank top, the loose pants, the worn shoes. He waits
after the knock, single eye scanning the area just in case. Always
ready, that one, even if now would be an unlikely time for the Spirals
to strike.
Hector Ghosh
Hector looks like a slob
next to Lola but he can't just throw on a dress and a cardigan and call
it a day. Or if he could nobody would want to be seen in public with him
because he's six feet tall and built like a festivus pole. He is
wearing a pair of pants that are not dedicated which means no one has
seen them before which means they're wrinkled. But they're black. It
doesn't matter. Black hides a multitude of sins.
He doesn't give a
shit that they're projecting it's going to be in the low sixties and
sunny today. The Uktena Galliard wears a long-sleeved gray henley
underneath an army jacket. Between the fact that he slept last night and
his Rage was drained to the dregs fighting unspeakable horrors Hector
only looks like a young man with a chip on his shoulder and not some
hardcore face-eating mass murderer who locked his parole officer in the
trunk of his car before continuing on his way.
A young man with a
chip on his shoulder and a HEY YOU'RE STILL ALIVE bright-and-sunny smile
on his face. Before he interacts with Thomas he lets the kinswoman go
ahead of him into the house. Has to take his hand off her back to do it
but they're around other people now so that was going to happen anyway.
"God, Lola," he says, "you can't just ask people if they paint."
Something
in the woods behind them perks his ears and Javed can see the Uktena
turn his head to look. His eyes unblinking but not scared. Just
observing before he shuts the door. Which he then hauls open before the
knock ends to face the visitor. Like this is his house.
Welcome to Celduin, Thomas.
"HEY!"
he says and that earnest happy-to-see-you expression comes back to the
Cliath's face. He's not going to be a Cliath much longer. Better get all
the acting-like-an-idiot behavior out of his system now while he still
can. "Anubis-Sight-rhya! What's up!"
They're not in the military
or some secret government organization. They're separated by one rank.
Hector lets go of the door to slap Javed a high-five. Keeps holding the
booze in the other. At Javed's inevitable confusion:
"Don't leave me hanging, man."
Thomas Delacroix
Thomas
gives Hector a puzzled look when he tells Lola she can't ask people if
they paint, because he isn't sure if that is something that is a real
thing or if words are just coming out of Hector's mouth. Sometimes,
it's just hard for him to tell. Regardless, he answers Lola, shaking
his head a little. "No. Reese painted them. He was...." Thomas'
expression darkens for a second, but then he blinks and whatever that
was about, the expression is gone. "Bored."
And then Hector is
taking over answering the door and welcoming Javed, and Thomas is only
amused. Really, the only way that could have worked out better is if he
somehow could have pawned off door-answering duties on Alexis. Alexis
is good at all those things like manners.
"Anubis-Sight," he says,
giving Javed a nod with just the slightest tilt to it. It leaves his
throat something like exposed, lets his gaze hit the floor. But he's
back to looking at Javed a second later, because Javed has never stood on ceremony with him.
Lola Hawkes
Rumors
must have circled by now that Lola almost died last weekend. For a
Garou that's no big deal really. For a Kinfolk that tends to carry a
little bit more weight. It reminds the community just how frail their
Kin actually are. Sure, they may seem invincible because they are full
of spirit and fire and are intelligent creatures. This one in
particular, this last scion of the Hawkes direct family line, was
deadly. She kills without flinching, for her bullet to miss is a seldom
thing indeed, and she takes care of business when all is said and done
to boot.
But teeth cut her flesh just as easily as they cut anyone else's, and hers doesn't grow back.
She
appears healthy, though, when she crosses the threshold into this giant
house. On their way up the path to the door Hector'd had his hand at
her back, the touch comfortable and affectionate and without thought.
It's with thought that this ends soon as the door is opened and they
step inside, though. Lola and Hector aren't distant from one another
when they cross the threshold, but Lola parts from him when he turns to
answer the door and hovers in front of one painted-on wall with her
hands in the pockets of her sweater.
Thomas said that Reese
painted them when he was (ellipsis) bored. Something flashed in Lola's
eyes and she glanced over to Thomas, watched his face when he concluded
his explanation with a storm cloud over his head. The look in her eyes
wasn't a negative thing or an accusing one, or anything of anger or
suspicion. Simply, it was a lightbulb moment. When she grasped a
concept firmly and added it to an equation.
She may have started
to say something she would regret later, but Javed is at the door and
Lola turns to greet him as well. We may notice she switches her posture
just a little when the Fostern Ahroun is introduced into the equation.
Subtly, she's trying to be more impressive.
"Javed. Afternoon."
Javed Anubis-Sight
Javed
does many things. He sleeps in strange places, because it is what he
is used to. He rips heads off, because he enjoys the effectiveness and
brutality of the move when it is time for combat. He apologizes every
time that he has to ask someone who they are, because he is ever
cognizant about the fact that it is his burden to bear, not theirs.
Conversely,
there are things that he does not do. He doesn't smile (or very rarely
does), because it does not befit an Honorful creature of heavy Rage and
many sins levied to his name. He doesn't communicate via a totemic
bond with his packmate, because neither of them wish that. He does not
ask for mercy, because he neither expects nor gives any. And he does
not high-five, because...
Well, because he just doesn't.
So
when Hector raises his hand high and asks not to leave him hanging, the
Ahroun does indeed show confusion. But it is true; he can tell who this
is by Hector's actions, not to mention his presence here with Thomas,
who he can guess (because who's house is this, after all?) and a woman
whom he does not immediately recognize. He can assume though, based on
the fact that she is with them and considerably shorter than Tamsin.
Reason puts together who the man is. And he placidly (for him; after
all, his Rage was largely depleted last night) reaches up and takes
Hector's hand, bringing it down into a clasping of forearms. For the
Falcon who is also a child of Owl, that is a gesture of camaraderie.
"Good
afternoon, Echooes of the Lost." He turns his attention to the
others. "Ms. Hawkes." He's almost got the pronunciation of Ms. down, though it is still somewhat eluding him. "Thunder’s Cry Echoes From the Sea. It is most pleasant to see you all."
Hector Ghosh
One
of the nice things about associating with Hector is that Hector does
not carry with him expectations. Not about himself and not about other
people. For shouldering the weight of a Cliath of Javed's moon he
conducts himself like someone who is in a decent mood most of the time.
Whatever temper one can ascribe to him is the fault of his Rage and not
his personality.
So he holds up a hand to slap five with Javed and
Javed quickly and quietly sorts out who the fuck this is based on the
presence of the other figures in the room and the mannerisms of the
skinny noisy creature in front of him. It is telling that Javed does not
ignore him. That he reaches up to properly position his hand and arm so
that he might clasp it high up on the arm so they greet each other like
warriors.
Hector's grip is strong and once the greeting is over
they step away from each other. He closes the door behind Javed and zips
off into the kitchen to put down the booze.
"DUDE," he yells from
the kitchen. Guess what his voice does. "You've got bitching acoustics
in here. You know what you should do? Never get furniture."
Thomas Delacroix
Thomas watches Hector go barging off into his kitchen and just laughs.
"Would
the two of you like to come sit down? Clearly he's-" Thomas waves off
to where Hector is yelling about the acoustics. "Just going to do
whatever he likes." He leads them to the main room, gathering up a
sprawl of books covered in sticky notes and setting them into a neat
stack beside the coffee table.
"You want anything? Drinks,
or...." What else do people want? Food? Blankets? Pinatas? Hosting
is clearly a complete mystery to Thomas. "....whatever?"
Lola Hawkes
Greetings
are all exchanged, and Lola looks just about as neutral as possible.
She's healthy, yes, and dressed in something besides jeans and her
canvas jacket because this isn't Lola on Patrol. This is Lola on a day
off, so to speak. Outside of her element, dropped into strictly social
settings, she's quiet and a touch uncomfortable. She is to
get-togethers as Thomas is to hosting guests.
Her hands stay in
her pockets, and she nods to Javed in answer to his greeting. He'd been
able to place a name to her today, and this pleased her. It made her a
bit proud, to be recognized by the stoic warrior who couldn't recognize
faces. She's seen him decimate two enemies in seconds flat, before
anyone else had a chance to do any work. All that Lola had contributed
that night was the bullet that put a greviously injured beast out of its
misery. He was a Metis, but he was an impressive one.
Hector
flounced off into the kitchen and shouted about accoustics. Lola
watched after him, then shifted her attention to Thomas when he spoke,
offering them drinks and another ellipsis. She felt for him-- social
was difficult. Weight shifted on the flat soles of her boots and she
turned to follow after where Hector had gone, into the kitchen. She
opted for this rather than heading into the main sitting area, stating
as she went.
"I'll help myself to water, thank you."
She didn't think to offer to bring anyone anything back.
Javed Anubis-Sight
Hector
runs off to the kitchen and the Ahroun watches him go, head cocking
curiously. The Strider may even show some faint level of amusement in
his eyes (eye), but it is brief and after a standard blink it is gone as
if it had never been there. He is then looking to the Shadow Lord
whose door he had darkened this day, and shakes his head politely to the
offer of hospitality.
"I am content, thank you."
He does
take the offer to sit down, finding a spot that is comfortable and
settling into it. Javed does not particularly sit on furniture in a
comfortable manner as a rule; he is more at ease when he can stand or
drop into a crouch. But to do either would be rude and instead he
settles into a seat, leaning forward slightly with his palms resting
flat on the tops of his legs near his knee.
"I trust you have
recovered appropriately?" This to the Shadow Lord of course, as Lola
and Hector are both off in the kitchen now (or heading to it).
Hector Ghosh
When
Lola joins him in the kitchen Hector is taking the booze out of the
brown bag and setting it onto the counter. He starts to fold the bag
back up all anal-retentive about saving room in the recycling bin and
then looks around and realizes there is no recycling bin. Fucking
Thomas.
The Galliard rolls his eyes even though no one is watching
him and he flips the bag over his shoulder. It lands half on the
counter and half hanging over the sink.
Lola says she'll get
herself water and appears in the hallway. Hector turns towards her and
then lifts his eyebrows and looks over her head to ascertain the others'
intentions. No sign of them. He must have figured they all would be
right behind him. That changes his game plan.
So he takes Lola's hand and puts his other hand on her hip and decides to waltz her around the empty kitchen while he talks.
"I'm
so glad he's not moping," he says. Doesn't even try to be quiet about
it. "I was worried. This place is sick, isn't it? Maybe he'll let me and
Tamsin use the dining room to record our EP. When we become
internationally-adored rock stars we can buy him some furniture."
He lets go of her and starts banging through the cabinets looking for glasses.
Thomas Delacroix
Glasses
are easy enough to find. All kinds of glasses, because generally Reese
stays here and heaven forbid there not be proper glassware. The
kitchen isn't entirely empty, but even being one of the most often used
rooms in the house it just doesn't feel like somewhere people really
live. Especially since the freezer is full of things when Lola goes to
get ice, but the refrigerator is mostly just drinks and condiments.
"Yeah.
I'm fine. You?" Thomas settles onto the couch. "Also, not that I
mind you knocking, but you do have a standing invitation. I know it's a
weekend and all, but still. As a rule...." He glances at the kitchen.
It would be just like Hector to walk in if he actually said anything
relevant. "It shouldn't be a problem."
Lola Hawkes
One Galliard and an Ahroun end up in the sitting room. Another Galliard and what would have been an Ahroun are in the kitchen.
Here
Lola enters and looks around the room, clearly impressed by the place.
The house was huge, and the fact that it lacked furniture and pictures
on the walls and knick-nacks and memories all over told her that Thomas
probably just moved here and hasn't bothered to actually live there yet,
to make it a home. It's impressive none the less, and Lola was on her
way over to observe the stove and the cut-out window in front of it that
allowed for something to look at other than a backsplash while
cooking. This is where she's interrupted by Hector, who takes one of her
hands up in his.
When he does this, she cuts him a semi-startled
look, but he goes on ahead and drops the other hand to her hip and
starts them moving in rhythmic circles in the open space. She isn't
sure what to do with her left arm (Lola isn't the dancing sort) when he
takes her right hand away, so she places it awkwardly on his arm at
first, decides that isn't right, and sets it on his shoulder instead.
She lets him pull her along, unwilling to rain on the mood of victory.
Lola's
pleased with the story of how last night went. She doesn't trust that
they should relax or expect it to be over, though. They still had the
airport to worry about.
"Why would he mope, anyways? You all tore
apart Beloved Horror and only lost one. That... tunnel, whatever it
was, it's closed off. It's a good day."
When he releases her and
starts looking for glasses, Lola shakes her head and, by some odd
intuition or another, manages to correctly guess the glass cabinet
before Hector finds it. She takes out a glass for herself, and then a
glass for Hector. If he's getting drinks for the other two, that's left
up to him. Lola's parched, so she's getting herself some water.
Javed Anubis-Sight
He
nods slightly at the point Thomas makes about Javed having a standing
invitation. "I recall, Thunder's Cry Echoes From the Sea. And I am
most appreciative of your offer. Sometime soon I will likely have a
regular place to rest with my packmate, but the offer is kept in mind."
He pauses there, and offers that slightest uptick of his lips that
could be considers (but really isn't) a smile. Its a gesture of
courtesy, of politeness. "That being said, offer or not, this is still
your territory. I would be remiss if I did not knock in all but the
most crucial of situations."
Translation: Yeah, that whole 'not knocking' thing? Don't expect that to happen any time soon.
As
to the question, Javed shrugs. "I am well, all things considered.
Last night was as unmitigated of a success as we could possibly hope
for. There is still much to do, however. Not the least of which are
the hunting of the remainder of the Beloved Horror, being present for
the judgment of the elders of Cold Crescent and, for myself at least,
attempting to keep the city Sept open."
Oh yes. He hasn't forgotten about that.
Hector Ghosh
It's a good day, she says, and for that she gets a kiss on her temple before he releases her.
So
they go back to doing what they were supposed to be doing in the first
place and Lola joins Thomas and Javed in the cluster of people who have
been confused by the older Galliard today. He appears behind her when he
hears the slide of a glass against the cabinet floor when she finds the
cache but doesn't trap her there. This isn't their territory and even
if Thomas is pack now the other two in the other room are not from their
tribe.
As she goes to the sink to fill her glass Hector hauls out
two more glasses. Accepts the empty glass but then lifts his eyebrows
and indicates the sink with his chin.
If she can't smoke or drink until June then neither is he. He's gonna get Thomas shit-faced though.
So
he takes up the two empty glasses and holds the whiskey bottle like a
bell and waits until Lola has filled the other two glasses before
leading her back down the hall.
"Wait," he says as he walks in at
the end of Javed's proclamation. "I think I took too hard a blow to the
head last night. Did you say you want to keep the city Sept open?"
Thomas Delacroix
Thomas
looks between Javed and Hector for a second. This isn't the alert,
wary thing he was doing at the war moot, this is just Thomas looking
over them both for a second while he's thinking. He stays perfectly
relaxed at the edge of the couch he claimed.
"There are good
reasons to have a base of operations in the city. Particularly if we
are going to be monitoring and guarding that place. But, considering
what that place is, it might be best if where we have our kin staying
and our people gathering isn't perched atop some unspeakable horror
cave. It may be best to find an alternate location."
Lola Hawkes
When
Hector had come up behind Lola upon her discovery of where the glasses
are, she had trusted that he wasn't going to try anything that he would
in the same situation in their own home. They have an unstated
agreement-- they didn't like flaunting what they had in front of people,
so they kept it out of eyesight instead.
She'd left a glass
behind for him to fill with whiskey, but he'd caught her attention,
looked at his glass and her and the sink all significantly. She took
the hint with a small smirk that's sort of like appreciation but
suggests she'll probably talk to him about this subject another time.
With two glasses of water, two empty glasses and a bottle of whiskey in
hand, the pair of Uktena rejoin the others in the sitting room.
Just
in time to hear that Javed feels that the Spire Sept should remain
established. Lola's expression wasn't a smile when she walked in, but
it was content none the less. That drops when she hears this, and she
looks somewhere between mildly taken aback and disappointed instead.
Hector voices his opinion, Thomas does as well, and Lola glowers for a
moment, appearing uncomfortable, before simply downing three fourths of
her glass of water in one go.
"I'm gonna go check out your yard,"
is what she announces to Thomas. Hector gets a glance with a small
raise of her eyebrows, but after that the Kinfolk goes roaming through
the house to locate a porch, a back door, whatever it would be that
would take her outside of the cavernous establishment.
She'll hang
out there for the rest of the visit, breathing the air and quelling the
surge of nauseated discomfort in her stomach that manifested in two
minutes flat, between filling glasses in the kitchen to standing in the
main room. This will be explained to Hector (not Thomas or Javed) when
they leave eventually.
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