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jeremiah_garou) wrote2013-08-18 10:00 pm
jeremiah_garou) wrote2013-08-18 10:00 pm
Entry tags:
Speaking with Kyler.
August 18, 2013
The moon is in the waxing Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (82% full).
Few people would leave their doors open after hours, especially in this neighborhood. But Ky's left the man door to the shop open to allow some fresh air into the place. The light from inside spills onto the sidewalk, adding its life to the well spaced street lamps that line the road. Ky is inside, of course, keeping company with the radio while he's bent over the engine compartment of a car and up to his elbows in grease and grime.
It's late and the moon shines full in the sky. Which might make the figure that raps on the doorframe a bit of a surprise, but there he is, radiating that tightly controlled and undirected rage that he tends to. Jeremiah knocks twice, then leans on the side of the doorframe. The ahroun's scruffy and slightly unkempt from his life on the streets, but presentable enough, jacket zipped and buttoned, beanie stuffed into a pocket, and he's managed a haircut—back to the standard military short—but not a shave. "Evening," he offers. "Can— may I come in?"
"Yeah," Ky calls absently, head still down in the motor area of the car. It's not an answer to enter, but a query to the knock. A second later, and with a short exhale, he straightens and looks toward the door. "Hey," he answers, a distant touch of disappointment in his tone. "Yeah, sure. Sorry, Jeremiah, come on in. What's up?" Even as he invites the Gnawer inside, he moves away from the car to a nearby workbench to turn down the music.
Jeremiah offers Ky a hand lifted in greeting and a friendly enough although reserved smile as he steps in. And in a difference, he's apparently not uncomfortable around the Shadow Lord, now, nor uncomfortable in the shop, though he doesn't step in too far before finding somewhere to lean against. "Finally caught up wi' Lefty. Thought you'd as like to know." There's a huff, or a sound that would be a huff, if his voice were normal. "No guarantees, but she'll listen t' whatever you have to say, and your proposal. All you have to do is go see her. Whenever you want, all you have to do is go knock on th' door, 'nd all. She ain't there, leave a message or a note and try 'gain."
Ky turns to face Jeremiah as the Ahroun begins speaking again. His arms fold against his chest and he leans back to sit on the edge of the workbench. He remains amicable, responding to smile with a slight grin of his own. "Guess it can't rain all the time," he replies with a nod. "Thank you, Jeremiah."
There's a nod, and then the Gnawer wrinkles his nose. It's an amused expression, rather than frustration, even with the weight of the moon bearing down on him. "Of course it can't," he points out, almost amicably, with perhaps even some respect for the younger man there. "No guarantees," Jer repeats. There's a silence, nearly characteristic. "Would you happen t' know how t' get a hold of Mouse-rhya?" comes the next question, rather out of the blue. "Keep meaning to ask Charlene, but I's ha'n't seen her, an' I still need, well." One shoulder lifts, rather than go on.
"It's a step," Ky points out. A step he wouldn't have been able to make without help. "But I understand, It comes down to Lefty-rhya and myself. She's got all the reason in the world not to accept or even hear me out, so I'm glad for the chance." He turns and pushes aside a few tools and minor clutter in search of some scratch paper. Once it's found, he writes down Mouse's phone number and offers that to Jeremiah.
Jeremiah nods again, and takes the paper, looking at it several times and then carefully tucking it into an interior pocket. "Thanks," he says, quietly. There's a pause, and he looks at Ky. "Sometimes a step's all you can do. One step at a time an' not give up. Not ever, you hear me? I know, you's a grown man and don't need my advice, but that one piece served me well in things a lot harder than fighting."
"Yeah," Ky agrees, mildly. His arms fold across his chest again, and though he grins at Jeremiah, there's a little sadness behind it. "Not all fights are physical. —Hey, you know that fetish my father made?" The second is an afterthought, come following a lengthy pause.
"Kind of," Jeremiah says, nodding some, thumbs tucking into his pockets and there's a thoughtful look. "Your father was very reserved and to himself. And well. The man I was, I's was always fighting something or off somewhere." There's wry amusement at that now, and there's no question that the ahroun really isn't the same man that Ky remembers from his childhood and cubhood. At least, not entirely. "But I remembers him making it, and I remember him finishing it. His crowing glory, he said." The ahroun looks up at the ceiling now that he's done speaking.
"I'm trying to find it," Ky says without preamble. "I will find it. My hope… my goal is to bring it back here and give it to the Sept. This has no bearing on your terms, but I could use any help you can offer."
Jer leans back against the wall he's leaning on and nods. "I'll buy myself a phone. And let you know the number, so's you can find me easier," he tells the younger man, and even with his hands in his pockets there's the occasional sign that comes out. "I don't know much 'bout it, the fetish. An' your father an' the man I was weren't close. Was closer to my father, him being an ahroun too. But what help I can, I will." His voice is squeaky and comical, but his expression speaks for earnestness and genuine. "Any'n'all the help y' need from me, same as I'd do fer anyone lookin' t' do similar."
Ky nods and steps away from the workbench to return to the car. "Thanks, Jeremiah," he says, leaning over the bumper to look into the compartment. "Come by when you've got a number I can reach you on. Hopefully by then I'll have a solid lead."
Jeremiah lifts a hand in parting and nods. It seems that the ex Shadow Lord's exhausted his words for the night, though, because just like that, he straightens, pulling his beanie out of one of the pockets and then down and over his ears before he walks out into the night.
The moon is in the waxing Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (82% full).
Few people would leave their doors open after hours, especially in this neighborhood. But Ky's left the man door to the shop open to allow some fresh air into the place. The light from inside spills onto the sidewalk, adding its life to the well spaced street lamps that line the road. Ky is inside, of course, keeping company with the radio while he's bent over the engine compartment of a car and up to his elbows in grease and grime.
It's late and the moon shines full in the sky. Which might make the figure that raps on the doorframe a bit of a surprise, but there he is, radiating that tightly controlled and undirected rage that he tends to. Jeremiah knocks twice, then leans on the side of the doorframe. The ahroun's scruffy and slightly unkempt from his life on the streets, but presentable enough, jacket zipped and buttoned, beanie stuffed into a pocket, and he's managed a haircut—back to the standard military short—but not a shave. "Evening," he offers. "Can— may I come in?"
"Yeah," Ky calls absently, head still down in the motor area of the car. It's not an answer to enter, but a query to the knock. A second later, and with a short exhale, he straightens and looks toward the door. "Hey," he answers, a distant touch of disappointment in his tone. "Yeah, sure. Sorry, Jeremiah, come on in. What's up?" Even as he invites the Gnawer inside, he moves away from the car to a nearby workbench to turn down the music.
Jeremiah offers Ky a hand lifted in greeting and a friendly enough although reserved smile as he steps in. And in a difference, he's apparently not uncomfortable around the Shadow Lord, now, nor uncomfortable in the shop, though he doesn't step in too far before finding somewhere to lean against. "Finally caught up wi' Lefty. Thought you'd as like to know." There's a huff, or a sound that would be a huff, if his voice were normal. "No guarantees, but she'll listen t' whatever you have to say, and your proposal. All you have to do is go see her. Whenever you want, all you have to do is go knock on th' door, 'nd all. She ain't there, leave a message or a note and try 'gain."
Ky turns to face Jeremiah as the Ahroun begins speaking again. His arms fold against his chest and he leans back to sit on the edge of the workbench. He remains amicable, responding to smile with a slight grin of his own. "Guess it can't rain all the time," he replies with a nod. "Thank you, Jeremiah."
There's a nod, and then the Gnawer wrinkles his nose. It's an amused expression, rather than frustration, even with the weight of the moon bearing down on him. "Of course it can't," he points out, almost amicably, with perhaps even some respect for the younger man there. "No guarantees," Jer repeats. There's a silence, nearly characteristic. "Would you happen t' know how t' get a hold of Mouse-rhya?" comes the next question, rather out of the blue. "Keep meaning to ask Charlene, but I's ha'n't seen her, an' I still need, well." One shoulder lifts, rather than go on.
"It's a step," Ky points out. A step he wouldn't have been able to make without help. "But I understand, It comes down to Lefty-rhya and myself. She's got all the reason in the world not to accept or even hear me out, so I'm glad for the chance." He turns and pushes aside a few tools and minor clutter in search of some scratch paper. Once it's found, he writes down Mouse's phone number and offers that to Jeremiah.
Jeremiah nods again, and takes the paper, looking at it several times and then carefully tucking it into an interior pocket. "Thanks," he says, quietly. There's a pause, and he looks at Ky. "Sometimes a step's all you can do. One step at a time an' not give up. Not ever, you hear me? I know, you's a grown man and don't need my advice, but that one piece served me well in things a lot harder than fighting."
"Yeah," Ky agrees, mildly. His arms fold across his chest again, and though he grins at Jeremiah, there's a little sadness behind it. "Not all fights are physical. —Hey, you know that fetish my father made?" The second is an afterthought, come following a lengthy pause.
"Kind of," Jeremiah says, nodding some, thumbs tucking into his pockets and there's a thoughtful look. "Your father was very reserved and to himself. And well. The man I was, I's was always fighting something or off somewhere." There's wry amusement at that now, and there's no question that the ahroun really isn't the same man that Ky remembers from his childhood and cubhood. At least, not entirely. "But I remembers him making it, and I remember him finishing it. His crowing glory, he said." The ahroun looks up at the ceiling now that he's done speaking.
"I'm trying to find it," Ky says without preamble. "I will find it. My hope… my goal is to bring it back here and give it to the Sept. This has no bearing on your terms, but I could use any help you can offer."
Jer leans back against the wall he's leaning on and nods. "I'll buy myself a phone. And let you know the number, so's you can find me easier," he tells the younger man, and even with his hands in his pockets there's the occasional sign that comes out. "I don't know much 'bout it, the fetish. An' your father an' the man I was weren't close. Was closer to my father, him being an ahroun too. But what help I can, I will." His voice is squeaky and comical, but his expression speaks for earnestness and genuine. "Any'n'all the help y' need from me, same as I'd do fer anyone lookin' t' do similar."
Ky nods and steps away from the workbench to return to the car. "Thanks, Jeremiah," he says, leaning over the bumper to look into the compartment. "Come by when you've got a number I can reach you on. Hopefully by then I'll have a solid lead."
Jeremiah lifts a hand in parting and nods. It seems that the ex Shadow Lord's exhausted his words for the night, though, because just like that, he straightens, pulling his beanie out of one of the pockets and then down and over his ears before he walks out into the night.