Too many monsters.

[jeremiah_garou]

July 15, 2013
The moon is in the waxing Half (Philodox) Moon phase (50% full).

Jeremiah's out on his run, but has taken a break to socialise, it seems. He's in a fringe group of the homeless, talking to some of the older men. Veterans, it would seem, men whose willpower is strong enough that they're not bothered by him, and they seem friendly, one of the older giving the young man a reassuring pat on the shoulder as they sit there around milk crates. Jeremiah speaks occasionally and signs, and one of the vets talks when he's signing, as a workaround. None of them, at least, seem to mind his voice. Then again, one of them is missing a leg, some of them other things.

Being as this is near water, Charlene is in the middle of exploring for new territory for her newly-formed pack, Otter Nonsense, so trying to find a spot that has access to water and all the things a pack territory wants to have requires a little wandering around. True, a solitary woman on the streets with a fairly decent-sized backpack might get a little attention, but this girl can take care of herself most assuredly. She's the good sort, leaving food for the homeless from time to time, and this time is no exception. She makes her way toward the knot of homeless, smiling when she recognizes Jeremiah sitting there among the crowd. "Hello there, boys." Her voice is proud, with a little Texan thrown in there, signing as she goes. "I've got some sandwiches if any of you guys are hungry. Fresh from King's Deli. No charge."

The other man who signs seems to be happy with this as well, and he acknowledges her with a nod. The veterans sit up a little straighter at the acknowledgement, pride still there even after all these years homeless, and none of them have seen a roof in the past twenty years, if not the past forty for some, the occasional medal and patch and fatigues visible in these men who can deal with the ahroun. "Jim, Triple, Cap," Jeremiah says, nodding to a few in turn, and then turns. He too signs, this time as he speaks. "Thanks Charlene. You're a good person, I ever tell you that?" None of them are too proud to accept the help or the sandwiches, and from the one that Jeremiah called Cap, she gets a handshake as well, and Jer signs a few things else to the group, then gets up, to walk with Charlene. How are you?

"From time to time, Jer." Charlene says, crouching down and unloading her bag of sandwiches, bottles of water, bags of chips, a package of socks, baby wipes… all sorts of little things that'll help life on the street be just a little easier for the men, up to and including a $10 bill for each of them just on the off chance they need something to eat. "You guys take care, okay?" She says with a smile, standing and actually giving them a passable salute after shaking Cap's hand, backpack deflated, before following along behind Jer, catching up to him and walking shoulder-to-shoulder. "Yeah, I get that a lot." She says, signing as she goes, looking to Jeremiah. "Call it keeping up my karma. Or doing the right thing. Guys like that? We keep them on our side, the enemy'll have a lot harder time getting hold, 'cause they'll tell us all about it." She smiles, waving to the men who are busily devouring their meals. "How've you been?"

There is humility from the men, some of them scattering to share the good fortune amongst some of the more hidden sections of the sprawling homeless encampment, places a little further. Yes, he agrees. They're good people. Strong willed, too, and they protect the rest of folk as best as they know how to do, when they can. Jeremiah turns, with a promise that he'll be back tomorrow, and that he'll be okay, he thinks he is figuring it out and such, signed to the small group. They understand, better than most. The question is answered with a small shrug. I don't know. Okay. I survive, day to day. Not much changes.

"I can see how that could be a problem." Charlene says as they walk, going along the waterfront as they go, moving to sign now instead of speech. One of the Glass Walkers is setting up a raid against the wyrm in the umbra. We could use a fighter like you, and it may help you get some respect back.

The ahroun walks along, sure in his footing and letting Charlene decide the way, and Jeremiah nods. Tell me when, tell me where, and I will be there. Maybe another of Rat's children as well. New moon who was once full moon I've met, others, too. If there is wyrm to kill, I will help kill it, protect others who will help kill it.

Marrow is picking her way along the waterfront, far enough away from human eyes that Becky has decided to wear her wolfskin. Not that many would think the Gnawer a wolf at a casual glance, what with the extra padding she carries on her frame.

Charlene is walking with Jeremiah, signing, but speaking at the same time now that they're kind of away from prying ears. Besides, the talk is so vague that it could be anything they're referring to. "As soon as I have more information about exactly where. Probably going to be on Saturday sometime around the park in the spirit world."

Observant is one thing that the former Shadow Lord isn't, and less so even more when he's simply just out for a stroll like this. His presence is remarkably quiet on the overall now, though, when he doesn't speak. He nods, and there is a determination to the repeated affirmation. I will, Jeremiah signs to Charlene. He pauses, and he adds, a bit of a more quietness in his features. I would even if it did not have a chance of earning respect. Even if there were no chance, if there were a chance I could help on such a thing, I would go. I have been garou since sixteen, the number is signed. Full moons do not survive otherwise, and I might not be subtle, or good at social things, but if there is one thing I can do. I can fight.

Marrow starts to trail along behind the pair, nose twitching.

"That's why we keep you guys around." Charlene says with a smirk to the older man, stopping and looking over at him. "Not just because you're good to have in a fight, but because you've all got this wonderful sense of honor that is really hard to get past. Just stick around the park and, when you see people crossing over, come on in and join the fun. Russian Revolution. Rush in and get involved." Charlene grins, pushing her hat back, reaching up to squeeze the older Garou's shoulder. "Time heals all wounds, Jer."

Jeremiah smiles at Charlene, seeming almost surprised, though whether it's at himself or her, it's hard to tell. And it's that turning that brings him to seeing the wolf trailing behind him, one brow raising into the air even as his hands move again. I will not lose it. Men—and archaic as the Gnawer can sometimes be, he uses the sign for man of the five hand, from forehead to chest—who lose that, become monsters. I have seen too many monsters, Charlene.

Marrow wags her tail and puts on her best begging face. Food?

"We all have, Jer. We all have." Charlene says softly, swinging her backpack around to rummage in it finding another couple of sandwiches for Jer and a bag of beef jerky for the begging Marrow. She crouches and peers at the dog, sniffing the air lightly before offering the jerky. "Here you go, girl."

Jeremiah chuckles at the begging, and moves over, a cautious enough approach that nonetheless is also offering attention, a tentative scratch on the forehead and a switch to one-handed signing. I will be at the park. Too long since a good fight. There is a fierce although restrained grin.

Marrow takes the offered food readily enough and wriggles a little as Jeremiah scratches her head. Your friend is nice, Bullfrog.

Charlene arches a brow at Jeremiah, nodding her agreement before looking down at the apparent wolf or kin scarfing the Beef Jerky. "I get that a lot." She says with a smirk. "I don't think we've met. I'm Charlene, Galliard, of the Black Furies and now Beta under Otter's pack." She grins. "What's your name?"

Jeremiah seems to be just putting the pieces together, and he informs Becky aloud, "You're shameless." It doesn't seem to be any sort of bad thing, considering that he doesn't stop the scritching, either, the crouch an easy posture to maintain for however long. "Yeah, she really is." It's only at the very end that Jeremiah gets up, hand raising to one of his earrings and he paces off a little, distant.

Marrow runs her tongue over her chops and sits down, tail curled around her front feet. Sucks-the-Marrow-from-the-Bones, Fostern Galliard. Bone Gnawer.

"Oh good, another Galliard. You and I should exchange stories sometime. Over dinner." She grins and looks to Jeremiah, straightening. "Look, you two, I've really got to head off. You've got my information if you need me, and you'll see me Saturday for the thing at the park too, so it should all work out well." Back to Marrow. "It was very nice to meet you, Marrow."

Marrow stands up and performs a bow, before sitting back down. Pleasure to meet you as well.

Jeremiah smiles and waves at Charlene, offering a parting in sign. Thank you, for telling me. I will be there, see you then, and catch up with you more later. It seems to have startled him from his reverie, at the very least, and he wanders back over towards his tribemate, to kneel and sit nearby. "How was the morning?" he asks her.

Marrow yawns, showing off nice white teeth. Lazy. Went to the regular food places. Napped.

Jeremiah nods. "Yeah. Went on my run, chatted with th' vets and th' edge of folk here, checked that everything is. Might nap later. Might go back over t' there, see, Jim was saying about he hasn't been boxing in a while, and I can go easy on him, and it'll be good. For both of us."

Not much of a fighter, Marrow admits, as she flops on to her side and rolls on to her back, feet up in the air. What were you talking to your friend about?

Jeremiah folds his hands in his lap and grins and shrugs, reaching over to scratch at an easily reached spot on one of the wolf's legs. "The clearance of the Umbra around the park. She thinks it will help that I go, and I think so. But I'd go anyway. It don't matter, that. Respect, they're nice, but I don't need them," he grins. "We were talking about monsters," he says, forthright. Likable, yes, but the ahroun lacks subtlety, is direct. "Talking about honour, and about monsters."

Marrow's leg twitches obligingly. Monsters are everywhere. Don't have to look like one to be one.

"Yeah," he agrees, with a quiet sigh. "Met plenty masquerading as men, they're…" It takes Jeremiah a moment. "Worse. They're worse."

Waste of space, most of them, Marrow agrees. Rolling on her to feet, she stands and gives herself a shake, before shifting up in to her birth form.

In the resultant quiet, Jeremiah just nods, one hand raising to touch that same earring that he touched before. Once more, there's agreement. "We weren't talking about Lovecraft's monsters. More, the sort you mentioned. The sort people become sometimes."

Becky sits back down and stretches out her legs. "Sounds like you've encountered a few in your time. Seen plenty of them myself."

Jeremiah nods. "Yeah," he says. The word is almost cut short, as possible as that is with the state of his voice, and as relaxed as the ahroun is, it's more obvious that this is a tenser topic. "Y' ever heard of Broken Prairie where up north you's from? It was in Pueblo." The Ahroun's almost dispassionate, the only thing that hides the profound loss, perhaps. He looks down, but he doesn't even have to count. "December, twenty-eleven. It was monsters that did that too, and ones no one saw coming because it grew from the inside, ate the hearts of people and turned them black and killed everyone, everyone that didn't."

"I've been out of touch with things, last few years," Becky admits, as she levers herself on to her feet. "Here. You want a hug?" She offers, holding an arm out.

It's considered, for a few silent moments that stretch into silent eternity before the ahroun stands and nods, accepting the hug. Family is family, after all. There's tension, but it eases, and he offers Becky another smile when he pulls back. And then Jeremiah sits back down. "There's monsters. It's why I try to be th' best I can and do as good for Mama Rat as I can. I don't need to be another and Gaia knows I got enough reasons I could be, if I wasn't careful."

Becky's hug is friendly and almost motherly. "Hey, we all do the best we can. I'm going to head over to Garcia's and look for pizza crusts. Want to come?"

Jeremiah grins at Becky again. "Sure. Let me grab my bag," he says, pointing up towards the main camp. "And, there's good people here, this place. I wouldn't have stayed if there wasn't. Some that's not here now, that were, when was here as Andrei. Kaz. First metis I ever met in my life." As they walk, the ahroun tells some of the few happier stories he has of St. Claire, a few of his life as a Gnawer, a few of his life as a Shadow Lord, something it's clear that in this city, he cannot escape.