8/31/2004

03:47 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Currently the moon is in the waning Full Moon phase (93% full).

Converted Warehouse - Shadow's End(#3589RAJh)

Track lighting along the 30 foot skylighted ceiling in this spacious complex accents the smaller sconces along the walls every 10 feet or so, keeping the entire area adequately lit, even while allowing shadows to play in odd areas during the night. Over all, the entire effect is dark and post-modern in places, warm and inviting in others. On one side of the lower floor, a spiral staircase leads up to a mezzanine that stretches along one entire side of the place. Two suites with separate baths can be found there, nearly a perfect match to the two downstairs. One of the downstairs suites is larger than the rest, though all of them seem excellently appointed. The end of the apartment nearest the entrance contains a large rec room with a comfortable-looking sofa, several leather recliners and a high-end entertainment system. The other end of the apartment contains an impressive workout room, complete with free weights, and other assorted fitness equipment. The center of the lower floor contains an open kitchen area. A sprawling, dark-grey counter surrounds a set of expensive-looking burnished appliances. Charcoal grey carpeting covers the floor and huge, vertical blinds hang near the workout area, covering windows that stretch halfway to the ceiling and overlook the river.

Contents:
No-Fear
Obvious exits:
Elevator

There's no music to be heard today, and the Ahroun's door is ajar like it is when he's not in. However, a better look around the bottom floor indicated he's here, having finally left the room he'd kept himself firmly locked up in since returning. In the wolf form, Fears-No-Darkness has himself settled near the windows, curled in a patch of sunlight that filters in.

Heavy thumping of a weight from upstairs signifies the waking of the philodox cub from his nap. Rudely so, perhaps, as a brusque curse loud enough for the keen lupus ear to hear gives alert. Soon after, Kenneth appears in his enlarged Glabro form, black tanktop and jeans filled out with muscle not particularly present in his birthform. The halfmoon's arms still sport the remnants of the deep gashes received not more than a couple nights ago, and he clumps his way ungracefully down the stairs. He doesn't even give the ahroun a greeting - perhaps because he simply didn't notice the wolf by the windows.

There's the faint rumbling of a growl as the black wolf is disturbed from his sleep by all the noise and one blue eye cracks open, followed by the other, bright in the sunlight. Upon seeing, and smelling, who it is, the growl stops, his ears half tilted backwards.

Kenneth's eyes swivel towards the direction of the growl once he's heard it, though from the yellowed-grey gaze, he doesn't seem to pay it mind. An eye half narrows with flecks of sleepiness. "Grr yourself," replies the cub, blithely. One meaty hand rises up to his head as he rumbles and rubs at the skin of his forehead. "So you finally came outta your hole." The statement is made in passing, the halfmoon on his way to the kitchen for a drink.

Ears slowly swivel back to normal and he half lids his eyes. He did. The Ahroun licks his muzzle, and by the plates still drying in the one side of the sink, the reasons why probably don't need to be asked.

Returning with a glass of water, the glabro makes his way over to the windows and stops not far from the ahroun. Slowly, Kenneth kneels and ends up flopping back against the wall behind him with a sigh. "You alright?"

The ears move again, going a bit limp. He will be better when the moon dies and grows small. Fears-No-Darkness lays his head back across his outstretched paws. He would like to sleep well again. Come to mention it, he doesn't look so wonderful. It's not just the sun on his coat that makes it look a bit dull, and even with the moon still full, there's not much energy to him.

"You did a real number couple nights ago," Kenneth notes with a mildly interested glance to his forearms. Angry red lines slide down the length of his limb. "But looks like your number drained you out too." His large hand, free of the water glass, reaches down to pick up a stray tuft of loose fur from the floor and holds it up to the light.

The fullmoon cub agrees he's tired. There are patched on him where the fur is thinner and still growing back, and some of the more severe of his injuries seem slow to heal. Maybe he's just too worn out to put much effort into it. Then, rather out of nowhere, the wolf asks if he has come back yet.

Kenneth inclines his head, gazing down at the wolf. "What do you mean by that?" The glass of water is raised, as casually as one might assume the two of them were having coffee together.

Storm-Singer. Responds No-Fear. I thought he would be back by now.

Kenneth looks around then, shrugging. "Nothin' from him lately. Hell, like I know where he went in the first place." A modicum of annoyance shows in the cub's tone. "But whatever, y'know? Maybe we should just get outta the city by foot and walk our asses over to the farmhouse."

No-Fear tilts his ears back and muses it is a long way, but maybe his own desire to be somewhere else is what forces him to shove his forepaws under his chest and push himself up from the carpet. Still want to live in the woods?

"Y'mean after Riting?" Kenneth queries, black eyes returning to the equally black wolf. "Maybe, yeah. Not that we know the first thing about bein' real wolves. There's gotta be someone out there that teaches that stuff though."

No-Fear gives a quiet snort through the length of his broad muzzle. Instinct. We have it for a reason.

Kenneth shrugs a shoulder again. "Only so much that you can know by instinct. We sure as hell ain't learning anything sitting here, though." Again, the shred of surliness. "But why'd you ask about woods living?"

The big black wolf yawns, flashing curving white teeth and a curling pink tongue before the jaws snap shut with a click. Because he has never lived outside the city.

"You lived out at the farmhouse, didn't you? That's livin' outside the city." Kenneth narrows a quizzical gaze at the wolf. "Or you mean, for more than just a week at a time out roughin' it."

No-Fear gives another snort. He did not want to be there but did not want to be with the Walkers. He had to pick one.

Kenneth nods in understanding. "If I were you, I'd've picked farmhouse too. Pain in the ass though, dealing with the Garou there. This is nice enough though." He finishes drinking the water remaining, setting the glass down. "Think living out there might help calm you down a bit?"

Maybe, responds the Ahroun. If I understand the wolf, it may help. I have to get control. If the Sept finds out what happened, I do not think they would be happy.

Kenneth narrows his eyes and stares at the ahroun. "They won't find out what happened." The statement is as cold and flat as a tundra plain in winter. "But that doesn't mean it won't happen again. Yeah, you gotta find out what the hell's up with the beast. Either that, or it's resorting to a concrete underground basement with no doors."

No-Fear tilts his ears back and wrinkles his muzzle, but doesn't offer any protest either. So far, it has only happened when the moon is full. If I cannot control it, I at least know when to be away.

"Well, you're like the classic example of the movie werewolf. Beware of full moon nights..." intones Kenneth with a hollow, horror-movie narrator's tone. One hand runs along the healing gashes on his opposite arm. "I feel it too. Y'know. Full moon. 'Specially if you go crinos. That really brings it out."

No-Fear peels back his lips slightly, showing the tips of fang. Rage, yes. But it should not bring out what it does in me. Twice! He broke the laws. Next time, it might not be a man that dies.

Sighing with a rough growl to accompany it, Kenneth runs a heavy hand through his mane of hair. "Just make sure it's something Wyrmy," the cub mentions, setting aside the burden of the philodox. "But that's the second time, yeah. Third strike, and you might be taken outta the game."

No-Fear doesn't doubt he would be now, if Firewatcher knew. A few hackles raise on No-Fear's dull ruff. There's a faint ripple of anger from the cub, but it's a pale echo to his normal. He really must have exhausted himself.

"She won't know about it," Kenneth returns gruffly, a hand going over to take the ahroun's nape in it. "You listen t'me, though. You find a way t'control it. If you need help beatin' you down, hell I'll do it. But this better not happen a third time before the Rites. If it means we gotta shut ourselves in and play cards until we drive ourselves crazy, then that's what we gotta do."

No-Fear bites back the urge to snap at the hand on his nape, his eyes wide and pupils shrunk to points. The growls in his throat starts and dies, and while the wolf in him doesn't go submitting and shrinking to the ground like a whipped pup, the human in him does make an attempt at humor and he suggests a game that is less infuriating.

Kenneth lets go of the nape only after he seems to have made his point, hand withdrawing. "Whatever. But next time you meet some punk on the street, don't bite his head off." Coarse is the philodox's words, no sugar coating on the deliberate reference. "Can't imagine it tasted very good. So, the ultimate question. Do humans taste like chicken?"

No-Fear snorts and gives a sour grumble in his throat as he puffs up his fur and starts going for the stairs. A wolf doesn't exactly have the words for 'old cheeseburgers and grease'.

Kenneth watches the wolf go, brow uplifting a degree at the ahroun. "Well if anytime y'wanna play no limit Texas Hold'em, I gotta deck sittin' up in my room."

No-Fear twitches an ear and squints over his shoulder, looking perplexed. What?

Kenneth lets a second's silence pass between them. "Poker," he clarifies.

No-Fear wrinkles his nose and glances away again. He's never played that.

Kenneth shrugs once. "It's easy to learn. Made a few extra bucks at school before."

[So the two eventually do something to waste their time, like take up cards...]