Marcus, Fruit, and the Town Nosy Bird.
Thursday, 13 June 2013 10:30![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeremiah_garou13 June, 2013
The moon is in the waxing Crescent (Theurge) Moon phase (32% full).
There are a myriad of homeless in Harbor Park, most of them congregated together around the outskirts. But one, a younger man with more obvious breeding and heritage whose situation seems more out of place, has situated himself in the grass underneath a tree, in a spot where it's possible to observe the comings and goings of the park from over the book that he's reading. The book is only at the quiet times, every so often someone seems brave enough to venture near to the young man and offer him a dollar, which is accepted with a humble nod and carefully tucked into the pocket, but no matter what, the passers-by hurry away after, offput and uncomfortable around Jeremiah, and more often than not simply give the man a wide berth to read his book.
"See, usually a park has a playground… with swings—" Marcus approaches the center of the park with a little girl, about 3 years old, that looks nothing like him. He pauses, scanning the area for said playground, and frowns faintly when no swings are spied. The girl doesn't seem to be paying attention to either Marcus or the lack of swing set. Her red curls hide most of her face, and her eyes are glued to the screen of an ancient Gameboy, probably with the original black and white game of Tetris in it. While the girl hardly reacts to the absence of swings, Marcus looks genuinely disappointed. He turns to the girl, watching her in pensive silence for a breath, then decides, "Fuck swings… they're overrated." Again, no real response from the girl, prompting the man to let out a sigh and scan the park again, more out of boredom than anything. That's when he notes the peculiar reaction a passer-by has to Jeremiah. Curious, he continues to stare at the young man.
Jeremiah turns the pages of the book, slowly enough that he's clearly actually reading it, slowly enough that whatever book it is has his attention or isn't easy to read, and it isn't until a few pages are turned that his eyes tick upward to notice someone staring at him, and there's a challenging angry manner in the way that the stare is returned, chin jutting upward and lips parting to show the barest amount of teeth, a very primal indication that the young man likes his space and his privacy. And there's something about the way that his chin, the more noble angle of his nose, which becomes all the more clear as Jeremiah tucks his beanie into one pocket of the oversized jacket he wears. Anger rolls off of him even at this small of a moon… and yet it's all directed towards the man, as little towards the girl, held in an iron grip of willpower.
Marcus brows raise a bit at the baring of teeth. He turns to the girl and murmurs something, and while she doesn't seem to have listened, she does slowly sidle away to sit on a nearby bench, still rather engrossed in the game. Marcus watches her, expression taking on the equivalent of a mental shrug, and turns his attention back to Jeremiah. His approach is slow but confident, and by the time he reaches the young man, there's a dollar in his hand—which he holds out. "Hey… how's it going?"
The young man's manner hasn't changed as the other approaches, as though although he accepts money, there's just as much of him that prefers to keep people away and is curious when people approach regardless. The rage continues to roll off of him. Lips close, the glare diminishes slightly, there's a nod that's a hair less angry than the previous. "Been better," comes the quiet but nonetheless distinctly Jackal-ruined answer, in the manner of someone rather unused to using his voice. "Thank you," he adds, before putting a finger on the spot in the book in order to reach up to take the dollar.
Memory arrives on the wing, briefly circles the area, then comes in for a landing and occupies the back of the bench that the girl is on. From her perch on the very edge of the bench, she tries to see what the girl is playing.
Though the rage has little effect on Marcus, the Jackal-voice prompts a sympathetic wince from him. It also allows things to quickly click in place as the Ragabash's curiosity is replaced with genuine concern. Once the dollar is taken, he drops down on the ground by Jeremiah, close enough for a quiet conversation though giving the other plenty of personal space. "I bet," he murmurs, noting the black bird and eyeing it as it lands right behind the little girl. Fortunately, the girl seems to preoccupied with her Gameboy to notice. "Are you from around here, or just passing through?"
Jeremiah's brows raise a tick at the arrival of the bird, and he fixes the bird with a stare for a long moment as well, before his attention returns to Marcus, brows immediately furrowing. The Gnawer speaks slowly and carefully in English, with an accent that's hard to place, somewhere between hill-talk and urban uneducated and educated but foreign. "Passin' through whilst I do some things," Jeremiah responds. "Name's Bullfrog, or Lives-On. Rat's child." That's offered, with a definite sort of waiting to see what the reaction is, and a coiled tension of readiness as well, should things go south.
Memory isn't right behind the girl, having landed as far away from her as possible, while still finding a perch on the bench. Still, she is peering over at the girl and is a damn big bird, easily twice the size of your average crow.
"Marcus Farewell, or Sharp Tongue if you're inclined… One of Unicorn's," Marcus gives his own introduction, shifting his weight as he relaxes a little despite the other's tension. Though he continues to watch the raven with open interest, he manages to give Jeremiah a sidelong glance. "Rat has a penchant for favoring survivors… you having trouble with the local Groo around here?"
The Gnawer nods, continuing to observe the other for a moment, and then leans back against the tree. There's perhaps a little less outright hostility now, although still an amount of gauging. "Long story," Jeremiah says, in as few words as possible. "I can leave… I've chosen to stay, fix my mistakes if I can."
Memory slides a bit closer to the girl and her game, as the corax makes a soft burbling sound.
Maybe it's the soft burbling sound, or the shadow of a large bird looming over her Gameboy, but Maya suddenly looks up. Her eyes widen a bit and she flicks an uncertain glance towards Marcus. Catching it, Marcus cups a hand around his mouth and calls to her. "You're fine, Fruit, I'm right here." This has the intended effect, and the girl blinks up at the raven curiously, Gameboy forgotten for the time being. Marcus drops his hand and leans back a bit, stretching out his legs as he speaks to Jeremiah. "That's never an easy path, it usually takes patience and dedication."
Jeremiah watches the bird for a moment longer. "Memory?" he queries, though it might be a wild guess, or it might not be, and the query is s friendly as a ridiculously squeaky greeting can be. "Town nosy bird," is said much more quietly in return to Marcus. "I know. But it's worth it to sleep at night. To do what's right. An' well, I got nothin' but time, nowhere else t' be, an' I fell out of th' damn Umbra here for a reason, I suppose."
Memory looks over at Jeremiah, but that could easily be taken as coincidence, before the black bird goes back to studying the girl. She makes a series of soft burbling sounds, clicks, and whurrs, almost conversationally. It's a rather impressive array of quiet sounds from such a large bird.
Marcus gives Jeremiah a questioning look, but is soon distracted by the response to his question. He dips his head in a nod. "Like I said, not easy, but admirable," he muses, eyeing the raven again. Maya continues to blink at the raven for a moment longer, then holds her Gameboy a bit higher and turns up the volume to let the Tetris music blast through the tinny speakers. She looks from Gameboy to bird, as if hoping the music would match up with the sounds the bird is making. This gets a small grin out of Marcus.
Jeremiah offers what's more of a smile this time than a baring of teeth, pulling his beanie out from wherever it'd gotten hidden and tugging it down against the wind. "Thanks," the Ahroun says. "She yours?" he then questions, quietly.
"What? Nooo…" Marcus's laugh is a little too forced, too nervous, as if given the choice, he'd never opt for having kids. "Made an oath to take care of her… so here I am, taking the not so easy path," he gives a half-shrug, but follows with a warm smile. "You need a place to stay for the night? I got an RV for me and Fruit… it's small but you're welcome to get out of the cold for a night or two."
Memory cocks her head to one side and after a few false attempts, manages to mimic the Tetris music reasonably well.
The little girl's eyes widen again, and she quickly presses a couple of buttons on the Gameboy, switching the music to 'Song B' that comes with the game. She holds the Gameboy higher, and waits in anticipation.
The ahroun shakes his head. "Thank you, but no. My tribe here an' I, we get on well enough, an' if it gets too cold, Lefty lets me stay'n the basement, or I go out t' the woods right outside town and sleep warmer. Most of the time I's outside anyway, I like it, don't… don't like really like the indoors too much."
"Yeah, fair enough." Marcus doesn't seem surprised by the Ahroun's answer, and his smile falters a little as he notices the raven's actions, and Maya's switch in music. Brows snapping together, gaze watchful and openly studying the large bird, he mutters to Jeremiah. "That's not a normal bird, is it."
Memory repeats the feat again, mimicking the sounds that come out of the game system.
The girl almost falls off the bench in her excitement, and quickly switches to 'Song C', eyes wide and waiting.
Once again, Bullfrog shakes his head, speaking in a quiet, squeaky near-whisper. "Unless there's suddenly another nosy huge raven, that's Memory, also known when she don't have feathers, as Val. She's a Corax… an' a good one," the response comes, and the ahroun seems to be genuinely amused by the interaction, rather than any concern.
As before, Memory repeats her little trick and she seems to be getting better at it.
"Val!" The name is familiar to Marcus, and he lightly springs to his feet. He moves to stand beside the seated girl and puts a hand on her shoulder. She doesn't react to it, opting to keep holding the Gameboy aloft and stare at the bird in fascination instead. Marcus looks up, grinning a little. "Val," he repeats for the Corax to hear. "We have common friends in California… at White Rock specifically."
Jeremiah watches this with a tilt of his head, and then nods to Marcus once, before gathering things into the pockets of his coat. With only that for parting, the ahroun takes off at a run down the path, although not too fast of one. It seems to be one to burn off tension, more than anything else.
The moon is in the waxing Crescent (Theurge) Moon phase (32% full).
There are a myriad of homeless in Harbor Park, most of them congregated together around the outskirts. But one, a younger man with more obvious breeding and heritage whose situation seems more out of place, has situated himself in the grass underneath a tree, in a spot where it's possible to observe the comings and goings of the park from over the book that he's reading. The book is only at the quiet times, every so often someone seems brave enough to venture near to the young man and offer him a dollar, which is accepted with a humble nod and carefully tucked into the pocket, but no matter what, the passers-by hurry away after, offput and uncomfortable around Jeremiah, and more often than not simply give the man a wide berth to read his book.
"See, usually a park has a playground… with swings—" Marcus approaches the center of the park with a little girl, about 3 years old, that looks nothing like him. He pauses, scanning the area for said playground, and frowns faintly when no swings are spied. The girl doesn't seem to be paying attention to either Marcus or the lack of swing set. Her red curls hide most of her face, and her eyes are glued to the screen of an ancient Gameboy, probably with the original black and white game of Tetris in it. While the girl hardly reacts to the absence of swings, Marcus looks genuinely disappointed. He turns to the girl, watching her in pensive silence for a breath, then decides, "Fuck swings… they're overrated." Again, no real response from the girl, prompting the man to let out a sigh and scan the park again, more out of boredom than anything. That's when he notes the peculiar reaction a passer-by has to Jeremiah. Curious, he continues to stare at the young man.
Jeremiah turns the pages of the book, slowly enough that he's clearly actually reading it, slowly enough that whatever book it is has his attention or isn't easy to read, and it isn't until a few pages are turned that his eyes tick upward to notice someone staring at him, and there's a challenging angry manner in the way that the stare is returned, chin jutting upward and lips parting to show the barest amount of teeth, a very primal indication that the young man likes his space and his privacy. And there's something about the way that his chin, the more noble angle of his nose, which becomes all the more clear as Jeremiah tucks his beanie into one pocket of the oversized jacket he wears. Anger rolls off of him even at this small of a moon… and yet it's all directed towards the man, as little towards the girl, held in an iron grip of willpower.
Marcus brows raise a bit at the baring of teeth. He turns to the girl and murmurs something, and while she doesn't seem to have listened, she does slowly sidle away to sit on a nearby bench, still rather engrossed in the game. Marcus watches her, expression taking on the equivalent of a mental shrug, and turns his attention back to Jeremiah. His approach is slow but confident, and by the time he reaches the young man, there's a dollar in his hand—which he holds out. "Hey… how's it going?"
The young man's manner hasn't changed as the other approaches, as though although he accepts money, there's just as much of him that prefers to keep people away and is curious when people approach regardless. The rage continues to roll off of him. Lips close, the glare diminishes slightly, there's a nod that's a hair less angry than the previous. "Been better," comes the quiet but nonetheless distinctly Jackal-ruined answer, in the manner of someone rather unused to using his voice. "Thank you," he adds, before putting a finger on the spot in the book in order to reach up to take the dollar.
Memory arrives on the wing, briefly circles the area, then comes in for a landing and occupies the back of the bench that the girl is on. From her perch on the very edge of the bench, she tries to see what the girl is playing.
Though the rage has little effect on Marcus, the Jackal-voice prompts a sympathetic wince from him. It also allows things to quickly click in place as the Ragabash's curiosity is replaced with genuine concern. Once the dollar is taken, he drops down on the ground by Jeremiah, close enough for a quiet conversation though giving the other plenty of personal space. "I bet," he murmurs, noting the black bird and eyeing it as it lands right behind the little girl. Fortunately, the girl seems to preoccupied with her Gameboy to notice. "Are you from around here, or just passing through?"
Jeremiah's brows raise a tick at the arrival of the bird, and he fixes the bird with a stare for a long moment as well, before his attention returns to Marcus, brows immediately furrowing. The Gnawer speaks slowly and carefully in English, with an accent that's hard to place, somewhere between hill-talk and urban uneducated and educated but foreign. "Passin' through whilst I do some things," Jeremiah responds. "Name's Bullfrog, or Lives-On. Rat's child." That's offered, with a definite sort of waiting to see what the reaction is, and a coiled tension of readiness as well, should things go south.
Memory isn't right behind the girl, having landed as far away from her as possible, while still finding a perch on the bench. Still, she is peering over at the girl and is a damn big bird, easily twice the size of your average crow.
"Marcus Farewell, or Sharp Tongue if you're inclined… One of Unicorn's," Marcus gives his own introduction, shifting his weight as he relaxes a little despite the other's tension. Though he continues to watch the raven with open interest, he manages to give Jeremiah a sidelong glance. "Rat has a penchant for favoring survivors… you having trouble with the local Groo around here?"
The Gnawer nods, continuing to observe the other for a moment, and then leans back against the tree. There's perhaps a little less outright hostility now, although still an amount of gauging. "Long story," Jeremiah says, in as few words as possible. "I can leave… I've chosen to stay, fix my mistakes if I can."
Memory slides a bit closer to the girl and her game, as the corax makes a soft burbling sound.
Maybe it's the soft burbling sound, or the shadow of a large bird looming over her Gameboy, but Maya suddenly looks up. Her eyes widen a bit and she flicks an uncertain glance towards Marcus. Catching it, Marcus cups a hand around his mouth and calls to her. "You're fine, Fruit, I'm right here." This has the intended effect, and the girl blinks up at the raven curiously, Gameboy forgotten for the time being. Marcus drops his hand and leans back a bit, stretching out his legs as he speaks to Jeremiah. "That's never an easy path, it usually takes patience and dedication."
Jeremiah watches the bird for a moment longer. "Memory?" he queries, though it might be a wild guess, or it might not be, and the query is s friendly as a ridiculously squeaky greeting can be. "Town nosy bird," is said much more quietly in return to Marcus. "I know. But it's worth it to sleep at night. To do what's right. An' well, I got nothin' but time, nowhere else t' be, an' I fell out of th' damn Umbra here for a reason, I suppose."
Memory looks over at Jeremiah, but that could easily be taken as coincidence, before the black bird goes back to studying the girl. She makes a series of soft burbling sounds, clicks, and whurrs, almost conversationally. It's a rather impressive array of quiet sounds from such a large bird.
Marcus gives Jeremiah a questioning look, but is soon distracted by the response to his question. He dips his head in a nod. "Like I said, not easy, but admirable," he muses, eyeing the raven again. Maya continues to blink at the raven for a moment longer, then holds her Gameboy a bit higher and turns up the volume to let the Tetris music blast through the tinny speakers. She looks from Gameboy to bird, as if hoping the music would match up with the sounds the bird is making. This gets a small grin out of Marcus.
Jeremiah offers what's more of a smile this time than a baring of teeth, pulling his beanie out from wherever it'd gotten hidden and tugging it down against the wind. "Thanks," the Ahroun says. "She yours?" he then questions, quietly.
"What? Nooo…" Marcus's laugh is a little too forced, too nervous, as if given the choice, he'd never opt for having kids. "Made an oath to take care of her… so here I am, taking the not so easy path," he gives a half-shrug, but follows with a warm smile. "You need a place to stay for the night? I got an RV for me and Fruit… it's small but you're welcome to get out of the cold for a night or two."
Memory cocks her head to one side and after a few false attempts, manages to mimic the Tetris music reasonably well.
The little girl's eyes widen again, and she quickly presses a couple of buttons on the Gameboy, switching the music to 'Song B' that comes with the game. She holds the Gameboy higher, and waits in anticipation.
The ahroun shakes his head. "Thank you, but no. My tribe here an' I, we get on well enough, an' if it gets too cold, Lefty lets me stay'n the basement, or I go out t' the woods right outside town and sleep warmer. Most of the time I's outside anyway, I like it, don't… don't like really like the indoors too much."
"Yeah, fair enough." Marcus doesn't seem surprised by the Ahroun's answer, and his smile falters a little as he notices the raven's actions, and Maya's switch in music. Brows snapping together, gaze watchful and openly studying the large bird, he mutters to Jeremiah. "That's not a normal bird, is it."
Memory repeats the feat again, mimicking the sounds that come out of the game system.
The girl almost falls off the bench in her excitement, and quickly switches to 'Song C', eyes wide and waiting.
Once again, Bullfrog shakes his head, speaking in a quiet, squeaky near-whisper. "Unless there's suddenly another nosy huge raven, that's Memory, also known when she don't have feathers, as Val. She's a Corax… an' a good one," the response comes, and the ahroun seems to be genuinely amused by the interaction, rather than any concern.
As before, Memory repeats her little trick and she seems to be getting better at it.
"Val!" The name is familiar to Marcus, and he lightly springs to his feet. He moves to stand beside the seated girl and puts a hand on her shoulder. She doesn't react to it, opting to keep holding the Gameboy aloft and stare at the bird in fascination instead. Marcus looks up, grinning a little. "Val," he repeats for the Corax to hear. "We have common friends in California… at White Rock specifically."
Jeremiah watches this with a tilt of his head, and then nods to Marcus once, before gathering things into the pockets of his coat. With only that for parting, the ahroun takes off at a run down the path, although not too fast of one. It seems to be one to burn off tension, more than anything else.