Sunday, January 26, 2014

Barroom Brawl - 1.19.2014 [Hector, NPC College Girls]

Lola Hawkes

After a week of settling in, Lola's explanation that things had slowed and quieted down for the time being was experienced by Hector first hand.  No word from Eddie Luske of the Forgotten Question Guardians about politics or plans or actions at the Caern-housed Sept.  Lola didn't keep an ear to the pulse of the Spire Sept quite as effectively on her own, for lack of contacts.  She relied on the news that Hector would bring home for that.  The Kinswoman had continued her standard routine of patroling the land, walking across snow that tried to melt with the temperature remaining above freezing for the last several days and dressing in her canvas jacket because the heavy wool cloak was too hot for this weather.

After bringing his nose up out of a baby book that he'd been reading chapter-by-chapter along with the progression of pregnancy, Hector suggested she come out with him.  He was going to try to scratch up some extra money for them, perhaps with funding a particular purchase in mind.  She should come with him, get out of the house, see the world away from The Homestead for a night.  They were supposed to go out and do something together this week anyways, according to the book.

Lola had agreed, and that's how she wound up leaned up against a pillar that supported the open floor of some bar that Hector had picked out.  She looked like she had no business being there whatsoever, truth be told.  She was pregnant, drinking from a bottle of water, with one arm crossed over the top of her stomach to hold onto the opposite arm.

Most people tended to wear casual clothes to a place like this-- it was a bar, not a club after all.  Lola herself wore a dress that rode a little high on her thighs for the seasons, with stockings that reached almost but not quite to the dress's hem.  Over that, a big heavy red cardigan with sleeves that she'd pushed up to her elbows.  Her dense black hair was twisted into a loose braid that fell over one shoulder.  Black ankle-high boots seemed clunky in contrast to everything else she wore, but seemed to make sense given how she seemed to glower when left standing alone.

She wasn't there to be social with the humans around her.  She was there for the Galliard who was scheduled on stage that night.


Hector Ghosh

Though he and Tamsin play together on the regular he hasn't done much performing on his own. He hasn't done much of anything on his own since they came back from Winnipeg. Hector is a social creature in spite of the ferocity of his Rage and the further he reads in the books Anthony gave them the more he realizes their lives are going to change once the baby is born.

They didn't have much of a courtship phase before finding out they're expecting a baby. Young couples tend to have more time to do things that don't involve processing unexpected news and preparing a childless home for the first of what will be many babies if fate is kind and the father does not get himself killed.

As much as the book guides him in not knowing what to expect in the coming months it serves more as reassurance that just because Lola is pregnant they shouldn't live their lives any differently. They're young, damn it. Young people do things like go out and party.

Even if one of them isn't so much a young person as he is a Fostern of the Garou Nation and ridden with a curse that frightens most people back from him if it doesn't lure them in. A certain breed of human finds the Rage alluring. He doesn't understand it. He also doesn't cater to it. He's only had eyes for Lola since he staked his allegiance with Forgotten Questions and he sure as shit isn't about to stray now that they're together.

For the hour or so that they watched the other performers he kept an arm behind and around her. Though his liver did not appreciate it Hector still drank a weak domestic lager from a bottle held lazy between his fingers and when it was time for him to go up he kissed her on the corner of her jaw and picked up his guitar case and wandered up.

Lola cuts an alluring figure despite the height of her stockings and the hem of her cardigan. Hector is dressed just about the same as he always is in work boots and black jeans. It was warm today. He wears a flannel shirt unbuttoned over a dark t-shirt and his hair is down. His rings glint as he adjusts the microphone stand.

"Oh," a young feminine voice says, "my god."

Not far from the pillar upon which Lola leans sits a table of college-age women. Six altogether. Four of them with pale northern European skin, one of Chinese descent, the last of them dark with hair pressed to chemical straightness. One of the light-skinned girls was the one to make the exclamation. Their voices are lost beneath the din and Hector is nervous enough to be up there by himself that he loses their bantering under his microphone-mumbled introduction.

"What?" asks another voice.

"Babe alert," says the first voice.


Lola Hawkes

While they waited together watching the other performances, Lola was tense at first but eased into comfort with Hector at her side and his arm about her waist.  She could learn to ignore those around her with help, and that Hector would comment on this or tell a small anecdote because the guy that passed them looked like this Ragabash he knew kept her distracted long enough for her to relax.

By the time it was his turn to go up on stage and he'd departed with a kiss to her jaw, Lola had acclimated to the bar enough that she stood easy even after he was climbing up onto the stage and adjusting the microphone stand as he needed.  She leaned comfortably against the pillar, chin high and shoulders strong but easy under the heavy knit cardigan she was wearing.  Confident enough in her place in this world that she could just watch Hector and plan to call him a ham or show-off when he was finished.

Then:
Oh, my god.  Babe alert.

Lola blinked at the words that caught her ear and turned her head to look and see where they'd come from.  Her eyes fell across the women at the table, briefly skimming, before landing on the two that were speaking.  She glanced back to Hector while he was setting up on the stage, and found herself realizing (as though it were a surprise to her) that he did suit the part of sexy musician perfectly well.  The long hair and rings sold it.

Instead of being proud of her catch, though, Lola's brows flicked into a minor frown-- a brief one, really, before it smoothed out again and she brought her water bottle to her lips to take a drink.  Though she said nothing and didn't change posture, Lola now found herself paying just a bit more attention to the college girls (probably came down from Boulder) than she did Hector.


Hector Ghosh

[how are we playing tonight, anyway?]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 4, 4, 6, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]


Hector Ghosh

After a few seconds of introducing himself - Hi my name's Hector this is my first time up here and, uh, I'm not up here to talk, so... - he taps his foot on the raised wooden stage a few times to set the song's tempo and starts to strum the guitar. It's a cover just to warm up the crowd. Every other band up here tonight has done a mix of covers and original songs. One woman was up here singing a nine-minute ballad she had written about an ex-boyfriend who left her for a man and everyone looks as if they're ready to start rioting if they hear one more crooning love song tonight.

Hector decided to play a song by a band whose lead singer blew his own head off before Hector was even two years old. And though he doesn't play like some otherworldly creature come here to feed off of their dazzlement for someone who has very little experience playing solo it's good. The notes are clean and resonant and by the time he gets around to singing it's clear he knows how to pick cover songs. His singing voice is raw. The audience can hear the leashed anger in it and with the distance and his channeling himself into playing it amplifies his performance.

The girls all but sigh themselves into puddles beneath their chairs. The littlest of them flips her thick black hair off her shoulders and leans in to whisper something to the blond girl who'd declared a babe alert.

"Shh!" says the curly-haired friend on her other side.
"What?" asks the littlest one.
"I think I'm in love," says the blonde.

The two women sat furthest from the epicenter both shake their heads and turn their attention back to their drinks.

"Keep it in your pants, Lacy," says the girl sat beside the littlest one.

Lacy says nothing. She's sat back in her chair watching Hector sing. Hector, Lola will notice, alternates between bowing his head and shaking his hair back from his eyes to find Lola in the crowd. It means he has to look over the table where the half-dozen young women are sat to find her behind the pillar. This gives the women a good look at his face every time he does this.

"Leave her alone," says the curly-haired friend. "She's in her bunk."


Lola Hawkes

Hector's glance out from under the mane of hair that kept falling into his face had him finding Lola watching him, at first.  The first time he'd found her eyes from the stage with his fingers strumming notes and his mouth up close to the microphone, he'd been greeted with a small grin and a raise of her water bottle to him, as though it were a beer.  Cheers, Hector.

But every so often he'd find her watching the table of girls attentively.  Not staring like she wanted to lunge, oh no.  Violence isn't written into the woman's bones or stance.  Instead, it seems like she's interested in them.  Listening to them.  Another time he'd glance up and she was watching him again, that was probably reassuring.  He had to see the way the girls were eyeing him and know a storm was brewing.

But then, Lola's attention was staying on the table of college aged women.  She was near enough to be able to hear them clearly over the speakers.  Near enough that it would be acceptable, or understandable, if she were to lean over and throw her two cents into the conversation.  Or, at least, it would be if she was going to join in with an 'Oh my god, I know, right?'

But that's not how Lola makes herself known.  Instead, she raises her chin a little and speaks just loud enough to draw their attention, then drops the level subtly so that she's speaking simply loud enough to be heard clearly after the first two or three words.  She wasn't shouting at them, after all.

"Should be careful of him.  He'll be more trouble than you could handle."


Hector Ghosh

Between the patrons slamming back beers closer to the bar where they can listen without paying attention and those gathered closer to the stage bent in towards each other so they can comment on the performances as they happen the noise level is enough that Hector is cocooned by the din. All he can hear are the notes come out of the guitar's strings and his own voice hurled out into the crowd.

His glances over to Lola are brief and sightless things. Just enough to assure himself of her being where he left her without locking in on her gaze. Once he looks over to see she's not paying attention and after that he starts looking further out into the tavern. Locking in on the glinting liquor bottles and the half-attentive bartender bustling around behind them.

So he misses when Lola addresses the table of young women. No future is riding on this exactly but songwriters go to open mics to prove they can hold an audience's attention and gauge if anyone in it would be willing to pay money to own hard copies of the music. Thus far he has the audience's attention.

And Lola snags half the women's.

The girl the others called Lacy looks back over her shoulder. Her glossy hair spills over her shoulders in a flat-ironed waterfall and though her eye color is occluded by the light in here Lola can read freckles splashed across the bridge of her nose. She must have spent part of winter break in a sunnier clime. Cubic zirconium studs glint in her earlobes and a tinier one graces her nose. The littlest of them also has to turn to look at Lola but the curly-haired friend only has to tilt her head to see around the pillar.

"What was that?" Lacy asks. Like she didn't hear her properly.


Lola Hawkes

"I said, you should be careful."

Though one girl was leaning to try and see her around the pillar, Lola did nothing to bring herself into better view for the whole table.  She stayed precisely where she was, boots crossed at the ankle, hips and back and shoulders against the pillar to help support her weight while she leaned.  One arm crossed over the top of her stomach, throwing the fact that she was halfway through her pregnancy into relief.  She kept the water bottle with her free hand, dangling between fingers not unlike how Hector had been holding his beer earlier.

Though her posture is comfortable and unmoved, there's still a sense of someone always trying to assert power about her.  It was just the way she held herself and looked hard and direct at people when she addressed them, as she was doing with the Lacy girl now.

"He--," she rolled her head to nod up toward the stage but didn't take her eyes off the girl.  She's looking direct and hard, but her expression isn't a scowl or a frown.  Her brow is smooth, her mouth is relaxed.  She just seems...  Superior.  That's what it is.

"--is more trouble than you can handle."


Hector Ghosh

Though the girl was previously having a good time with her best friends during their last week of true freedom before returning to class something about Lola's effortless dominance has her near as intrigued as she had been by the young man currently up there singing.

Halfway through the song comes a guitar solo that serves as a backdrop to the women's confrontation. The lyrics will become a chorus that will repeat itself once before ending altogether. He probably won't ever sing this song again if Lola's in the audience. A chord change and tempo variation will keep the last minute or so from becoming repetitive.

Nobody else is bored but the girls are all watching to see what Lacy is going to do about the dark-haired pregnant girl giving her shit.

At the assurance that he's more trouble than she can handle a lopsided grin of accepted challenge cuts across the girl's lips. She's an attractive woman. Hard to tell what she's studying or what she intends to be when she grows up but her gaze does not have the vapid doe-eyed quality one might expect from a skinny rubia with a nose piercing.

"Oh, yeah?" she asks after holding Lola's gaze for a good four seconds. "Good to know."

She turns back around.


Lola Hawkes

There were only a few number of humans that Lola got along with when directly interracting.  There was a fifty-something year old man that she used as a mechanic, and given the truck she was driving before the Subaru she was there frequently enough to address the man by first name.  Anthony's girlfriend got a pass, barely.  If that girlfriend turned into a fiance then all hell would break loose, but they haven't gotten that far yet.

Fewer humans actually had Lola's respect.  The person who topped that short list was Hector's father.
Were it not for the fact that Lola lived out in the middle of nowhere and grew up knowing not only what Garou are but believing that she was one, the situation might not have needed to happen at all.  Lola could have just kept to herself and let Hector shoot down any of the young women on his own.  But that wasn't the case, and due to several circumstances surrounding her creation and upbringing Lola didn't have much regard for human kind in general.

It was just a merciful thing that she cut straight to the chase while breaking through social etiquette.

"Hey."  That to catch her attention and make sure she had it, as well as eye contact, before she continued.  Lola wasn't standing up straight yet, because she wasn't trying to physically intimidate or start a physical fight.  Still against the wall, but staring sternly this time-- no jokes anymore.

"That wasn't an invitation for you to try.  More like a warning for you not to.  He's spoken for, understand?"


Hector Ghosh

Hey.

That single syllable does catch the younger woman's attention and jerk her head back before she can completely turn around. Cornsilk hair ripples as she braces her arm on the back of the chair like she's steeling herself for this conversation to go on longer than she had initially intended.

Her friends are all holding themselves tense and quiet like they're just waiting for this to blow over. Guilt by association and their having egged on their friend within the woman's earshot. It's obvious they're pregnant and they can all guess whose baby is in her belly based on the quiet possessiveness keeping her leaned against the pillar.

Lacy doesn't appear to care even if it is obvious. Even if Lola isn't fucking around.

"If he's spoken for you I guess you don't have anything to worry about, then," she says in a saccharine tone before she makes a second attempt at turning around.

The song ends. Stronger applause than met the nine-minute ballad and a whoop from someone who looks like they could be a diehard fan of the original band. Hector laughs at it and mumbles a thank you into the microphone before he starts to adjust the frets. He's looking over at Lola again. She can see him squint like to ask her what the fuck is going on before he looks back down at the guitar's neck.


Lola Hawkes

At least this could be said about the majority of the women at the table:  they were impacted by Lola's words and presence in precisely the way she had hoped they would be.  They got the picture-- Lola was pregnant, speaking to them only when it came to the topic of the man that was up on stage.  She was drinking water, not beer, so she was obviously here supporting someone performing, not because she just felt like ruining her fetus with alcohol.

This Lacy girl, though, didn't seem to give a shit.  Lola saw intellect in her eyes, she saw that she got the picture.  However, the tone with which she had answered Lola and the fact that she didn't relent put the Kinswoman's hackles up.

Immediately following the comment, the song ended and applause filled the room.  No doubt some of the girls chose to start clapping too, even though the tension between their friend and the Mexican woman in the red cardigan had strung up even tighter with each passing second.  Maybe the applause would break it, the fact that any words that Lola could shoot back would be swallowed up by the sound would stop anything from continuing.

Hector looked out at Lola and squinted at her.  The expression could have been a warning as much as it was an inquiry, but Lola only answered by rolling her eyes up and closed and tipping the bottle of water into her mouth.

While Hector was busy tuning up his guitar for the next song, while the claps started to die down, Lola pushed away from the pillar.  Her movements were slow and calm, didn't draw a whole hell of a lot of attention as a result of that.  She also didn't need to move much more than two or three steps to reach her destination.  That was all it took for her to be close enough to reach out for the back of this Lacy woman's chair and pull it back and down-- hard.


Lola Hawkes

[Lola's a Dick: Strength 3 + Athletics 3]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 8, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )


Hector Ghosh

[dex + ath: WHOA]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 5, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 3 )


Hector Ghosh

[lol frenzy check gibbous moon diff i don't think he has to take a -1 because he's waxing?]
Dice: 5 d10 TN5 (3, 5, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 4 )


Hector Ghosh

[DOESN'T MATTER]


Hector Ghosh

What bystanders can claim to have witnessed the incident will likewise claim the blond girl was just minding her own business when the Hispanic-looking woman grabbed the back of her chair and pitched her backwards onto the floor. The bartender doesn't have a hawk's eye on the place but she can see Lola was stood back from her and the girl was turned around to talk to her. Doesn't know who started the conversation or what all the half-dozen college kids were talking about. All of them were legal drinking age and hadn't been loud or really doing anything but who knows what brought it on.

Might've had something to do with the kid who was up onstage performing. Everybody who saw the pregnant woman whip Lacy and her chair down faster than Lacy could escape the inevitable could surmise that Hector looked back over there only when he heard Lacy shriek with surprise and anticipated pain.

The tumble doesn't hurt her. She'd known it was coming and had tried to brace herself on the table and get herself to her feet. But the woman is faster. In a matter of seconds her seat goes from stood on four legs to cracked onto its back. Lacy does not hit her head on the floor but she skims her bare knees on the table on the way down. Kicks the underside of it as she lands and jars the glasses sat upon it.

Hector rears back from the microphone as if it has just thrown sparks at him. Nobody is paying attention to what he's doing because all eyes in the place are on the chair that just touched down on the floor with the girl still inside it. A rippling of consternation and confusion comes up from the epicenter of the outburst and only those closest to the stage can feel a foreboding. Like a lion just walked into the room and drew a breath in preparation to roar.

He yanks the amplifier cord out of the base of his guitar as he clamps down onto himself to keep from frenzying here in a room full of humans. But he comes very close. Blame it on his nerves or the reaction of the crowd or the presence of so many bodies when the moon is still so fat.

Lola has only a few seconds before Lacy gets to her feet and Hector comes down off the stage. Everyone in the place is looking right at her.


Lola Hawkes

Twenty weeks worth of pregnancy did nothing to slow Lola down or sap her strength.  This, she would say, was a matter of good breeding plain and simple paired up with the fact that she was a solid, sturdy, healthy speciman in general.  Lola had always been in good health.  She'd always been strong and athletic and able to take hits better than any other pup growing up with her.  When she got in fights at school she would take whatever hits rained upon her as though she couldn't feel them.  Needless to say, fights didn't happen much after the first few.  The last one she had was in high school and she'd broken some poor boy's fist by taking a punch to the top of her skull before she broke his arm pinning it so savagely behind his back.

So when she decides that she's had enough of Lacy and that her message needs to come with a bit of force, Lola pulls hard on the back of the chair and throws it onto the ground with the woman still in it.  Lacy had shrieked and the music had cut.  Eyes were turned upon them, but Lola has never been one to give much of a shit about who saw when she had altercations with people.  Not even humans.

Lacy was trying to get back up onto her feet and Lola was standing near to her head, leaned down with her left hand on the front of one thigh, clamping the hem of her dress down against her leg.  The other hand was pointing at Lacy's face while she leaned forward to address her.

"I get the feeling you ain't catching the fucking drift--...," she'd started her threat here, but stopped when the amplifier made an unpleasant sound when jerked hastily out of the guitar.  Lola's attention went to Hector instead, and a heavy scowl flooded her face when she saw him coming at her like he was.

Anyone on the outside, impressed by the storm of Rage that the man kicked up, would have to think that he might be coming over to beat his woman into submission for interrupting his performance.  But Lola doesn't look at him with fear, not like many of the humans in the bar do.  She looks at him not like she's afraid or already cringing away from what he might say or do, but rather like she's upset that her own fight got cut short.

No more words for Lacy, not yet.  Instead Lola straightened up and pulled on her red cardigan so that it was held closed together in front of her.


Hector Ghosh

He's still learning to be rational in the face of his Rage.

Whatever the sight of his pregnant mate flipping some helpless human's chair onto the floor is what sparked his fury. Had nothing to do with her interrupting him. He'd have probably had the same reaction if he'd been stood down there next to her. Powerlessness and fear are tangible causes of a frenzy but they also occur on a subconscious level.

He feels powerless in a lot of situations. Afraid of a lot of things. Going out to spend some time with his woman in a setting where she can see what it is he and Tamsin do when they go out for open mic nights wasn't a setting where he thought he would have to worry about controlling himself.

Didn't think he would have to worry about Lola controlling himself either but at this point he can't say it surprises him.

He oughtn't have let himself feel so crowded in by humans that he let himself prepare to have to fight all of them. But that's what happened. Lola flips over a chair and the entire bar turns towards him and they're a unit. They came here together and he'd kill anyone who tries to hurt her. So many people start to bristle with the injustice of an outsider attacking an innocent girl that Hector all but heard the intent in their voices. What the hell is going on and There's a fight echoing around them.

If Lola had been here alone this wouldn't have happened but if he doesn't get down off the stage right the fuck now and do something it would be as if he isn't here at all. This isn't going to resolve itself. He can feel violence coming.

So that amplifier screeches and Hector swallows down hard to keep himself from shifting wild in front of the crowd and in a matter of seconds he has recovered and swung his guitar around so it's across his back and not his front. Lacy is on her feet and red-faced and turning towards Lola like to start that fistfight the stranger so craves.

It never happens. Hector steps between the two of them and says "Come on!" in a voice big in spite of its lack of volume. Latches onto her shoulders with one arm slung across them that if she offers any resistance he can hook her arms back against his body and pick her up and physically carry Lola out of here.


Lola Hawkes

For half of a second, Lola was ready to throw a punch.  Lacy had gotten up to her feet, red in the face with indignance and hurt pride and aching knees too.  This gave the Kinfolk the impression that the woman would yell back, perhaps take a swing.  She would have welcomed it.

But the bar was staring hard and muttering and Hector was a monster in their midst.  He pushed himself in between the woman with straight cornsilk hair and the one with the dense braid of black and barked a command for her to come on.  Lola's nostrils flared, eyes locked onto Hector's instead of the woman's when he blocked her view, but soon the Galliard had his arm around her and was guiding her toward the door.

If she fought, Hector would just pin her arms with his body and carry her.  It would be a struggle if she were to fight back against him, but none of that came to be.  She let herself be hauled in to Hector's side and dragged along toward the door.  The same as she had done with her fight with Erich and his Kinfolk packmate, Lola abandoned this confrontation for the sake of leaving with her mate.

He Rage scalded her side and made her chest tight, but she weathered the storm like a champion.  It was only with conscious effort that she prevented herself from shooting glares of challenge at people who stared at her and Hector.  Instead, she glowered at the door they approached and kept her eyes in front of her once they were outside.


Hector Ghosh

If she has ever seen him like this Lola will be slow to call it to mind. Like he's become Rage. Like if he weren't as strong as he is or as accomplished as he is or as unwilling to jettison his safety and the safety of the woman the entire Sept knows to be his mate Hector would have just given himself over to it. That moon hung above is not strictly his but he feels the nearness of oblivion in its glow all the same.

He grabs her shoulders hard enough that he is a few pounds of pressure away from causing her pain. It isn't anger at her that's causing him to haul her outside though.

Hector doesn't like to run away from confrontation but they can't win this one. He's left his guitar case inside. That's just as well. He can replace the guitar case. He can't replace Lola.

When they reach the heavy oak door that leads to the gravel parking lot outside Hector slams it out of the way. Bats it like it's no more substantial than a beaded curtain and then pushes it again and harder when it swings back at them. Growls like it did anything to him other than react to his anger and then the cool free air of the outside replaces the stale beer and human pheromones of the inside.

"WHY DID YOU DO THAT?" he asks and she can feel the frayed control in his voice even as he's steering them nearer the door. "Lola, you can't DO SHIT LIKE THAT."

Someone's loud voice sounds out in the foyer they just left. Another right behind it. Hector looks back with wild-wide eyes and lets go her shoulders to grab her arm. Urge her faster without urging her to run just yet.


Lola Hawkes

Even if the hand actually was causing her pain how it grasped her shoulders, Lola wouldn't have said a word and wouldn't have shrugged him away.  She's never been shy to pain-- even when her leg was bleeding out enough blood to threaten life she gritted her teeth and performed first aid on herself and gave directions to a hospital for Milton to follow best she could.  When she gave in and passed out, it wasn't from pain or shock, but from loss of blood instead.

Once outside, boots crunch cravel and the heavy wooden door is slapped shut when it tries to swing open again.  Hector hollered at her, and the Kinswoman didn't flinch but a wolf like him can sense the adrenaline that spikes and how her muscles jump and go tight.

She wasn't about to answer him, not just yet.  When he shouted that she couldn't do what she just did and demanded an explanation, all he earned was a sullen, bland look in his direction.  Even if she did have words to say, they would have been interrupted when both of the Uktena glanced over their shoulder to the loud voices behind them.

"Jesus fuck," Lola managed to get out before Hector released her shoulders to seize her by the arm instead.  His fingers gripped uncomfortably just above her elbow and he urged her to walk faster.  Thankfully, Lola had long legs and strength to them at that.  She keeps up so that he doesn't have to drag her.  As they went, she switched the topic to instead ask incredulously:

"What the hell are they gonna do, lynch us?"


Hector Ghosh

"I DON'T KNOW."

They are both of them lucky he has not completely lost his shit yet. With his back to the front entrance and the voices threatening to give way to a kicked-open door and Gaia knows what else. Must be the owners or the bikers or someone just itching for a fight was following behind to make sure they left. Maybe get a better look at the two of them for when they filed a police report.

If they file a police report. Everyone saw Lola attack that girl but even she can admit that she was provoking her. She thought the kid who was singing was cute and she said so and then this woman she'd never seen before starts telling her he's trouble and he's spoken for. She was just screwing around. She didn't think it would come to that.

At the Forester Hector escorts her all the way to the driver's side and then he stands feet planted and body turned towards the threat. Chest heaving with bloodlust that will not actualize and the anticipation of it coming towards them from outside their world.

"Start the car start the car start the car," he says and he doesn't leave her side until the door is open and she's started to climb inside. Only then does Hector spring around the front of the car and haul open the passenger door and sling off his guitar. It goes into the backseat harder than he means to move it and then he jumps in and slams the door shut.

He kicks the floorboard beneath the glove compartment once and hard like it's his fault shit went south like this and then he sinks low in his seat and snarls as the aftershock of a tamped-down frenzy hits him.


Lola Hawkes

Patience has been the lesson Lola's been trying to learn.  The theme of her lessons lately.  But it's still a young muscle, sometimes overworked, and it's stretched and stressed by the situation that she created for herself and her mate.

When they get to the door Hector virtually swings Lola toward it by her arm, but doesn't do anything to cause her injury or harm.  She didn't collide with the car or anything like that, but scowled heavily all the same and fished into the pockets of her cardigan to pull out the keys.

She was locating the vehicle ring amongst others and getting it between her fingers while Hector urged her over and over to start the car.  This caused a snap in Lola, and for a moment she flashed teeth and peeled lips to shout right back at him:  "I'M FUCKING WORKING ON IT HECTOR, OKAY?"

Working on it becomes accomplishing it, and soon enough Lola's behind the wheel of the car and Hector has dropped himself into the passenger seat.  Tires churn gravel and Lola peels out of the parking lot, gets them onto the road, and speeds away hopefully before anyone can nab her license plate.  As she maneuvered this Hector snarled and kicked the floorboard and writhed his way lower in the seat.  Lola cut a glance his direction, but swallowed the lump in her throat and gripped the steering wheel tight enough that her knuckles went white.

She looked forward and set her jaw and simply drove.  She knew that she couldn't let Hector sit there and stew-- that he'd need a release of some kind or another, but she didn't think bringing him back to words was the best choice just yet.  She'd like to at least get them out of Castle Rock before that happened.


Hector Ghosh

Now that they're inside the car and away from the others and Lola has put distance between themselves and the scene of the crime Hector deflates but she is right to worry that that deflation is not dissipation of tension but tightening of already strung-tight muscles in preparation to snap.

That was what he'd told her was his fear on nights like tonight when his appetite grew insatiable and if he was not out running the land and tearing his teeth into things he wanted to have her thrown down on the bed beneath him. Months ago he was fearful of what his savagery would do to her. Not as if he cannot control himself. He does control himself. But he told her true: he lives in fear of snapping and tearing her to ribbons.

Lola goaded him with a hand around her throat then and he'd pled with his eyes for her to stop. They might have thought it a baseless fear then. Here they are though. His Rage feels like a growing and furious entity pressed inside the space with them and it doesn't help that he's breathing loud and panicked like he can feel himself about to snap.

He does not snap. That gasping gives way to panting and he finally makes a low moaning noise like that was an ordeal for him. Eyes glassy afterwards but not with tears. He stares out the window like he doesn't realize what just happened. Everything between the near-frenzy and his return to his senses blurred through with red.

"Fuck," he says in a huff. His head rocks back against the seat and he pushes himself to sit up. Runs his hand down his face now glowing with perspiration. "I'm alright. It's alright."


Lola Hawkes

A little while ago Hector had confessed fear for losing control of himself and ending her life.  Not only hers now, but their child's as well.  She'd challenged him to test him, to prove to him that she was right when she told him not to worry because she herself was not.  She'd tried to get a rise out of him at that time, spark flint to the furnace of his Rage and let him prove her right for himself when he'd snarl and gnash but still not leave so much as a bruise on her.

She believes that he has control of himself, that if he didn't he would have lost his shit while they were still in the bar, still surrounded by everything that threatened them.  But that didn't mean that he couldn't ratchet himself back up to that level in the same night.  Especially now, with all of that fury unspent in his breast, the wrong word could provoke a terrible response from him.

Finally, when they're out on the highway just past city limits, where trees and plains dominate once more, Hector scrubbed his sweating face and straightened up and expressed that he was alright.  Lola was still tense, though, still grasping the steering wheel so her hands would ache when she finally released it.  She knew the conversation that would come, and was sure that it would follow their usual rhythms and get loud and defensive again.

But, she had to do it sooner than later.  So, from where she sat stiff and pressed back in her seat, Lola said, almost cautiously:  "I didn't mean for it to cause that big of a fuss.  I'm sorry, alright?"


Hector Ghosh

Historically they have been unable to resolving a disagreement without veering off into another one soon if not right on the heels of the precipitating problem and yet Hector has not taken that as a sign that they ought not still try to discuss whatever it is that has them bristling at each other as they tend to.

Walking away from each other only tends to make things worse and it isn't an option right now. On either side of the vehicle is wilderness hefted back and out of the way by the Weaver. Unless she pulls over now there is nothing they can do for the discomfort of arguing in a moving vehicle. Maybe even not then. The last time they had to pull over to argue Hector barely came back alive.

As the immediate danger passes Lola realizes that Hector's control over himself is thinned. He's drained from performing in public and drained further from staving off a frenzy.

His eyes are closed now.

"It's alright," he says again. Reaches across the car to find her thigh with his sunlight-warm hand. He flinches at something he doesn't say and she can feel it in a brief tensing of his fingers. His voice is taut as over-wound guitar strings but it does not break. "It's alright, love, just keep driving."

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