11/19/2004

07:14 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Currently the moon is in the waxing Half Moon phase (50% full).

Denny's(#2977RJh)
     It could be a Denny's in Los Angeles, California. It could be a Denny's in Newark, New Jersey. It could be a Denny's in Friend, Nebraska. As it happens, it's a Denny's in St. Claire, Washington, but the surroundings don't really matter. It's a Denny's.
     The double doors of the glass foyer lead to a matching set of doors to the restaurant proper, and on entering one sees to one side a pair of gumball machines and a grab-the-toys-with-the-claw machine, to the other, a payphone, and ahead, the register and the ubiquitous freestanding sign: Please wait to be seated. No matter the time of day or night, no matter how many or few patrons seem to be seated, the waitstaff always appear to be bustling about, and it takes a minute or two before one is free to seat any new arrivals.
     Large panes of glass make up the majority of the outer walls, giving a good view of the street from any of the many red vinyl upholstered booths that line the walls below them. Most of the booths are two facing benches and a table, able to hold four people comfortably or 6 really cozily, but each corner holds a bigger one, fit for as many as ten rowdy late night teenage patrons. The open area of the restaurant is littered with tables and chairs, all seemingly for parties of four. On every table in the restaurant are the usual condiments, menus, and a carafe with a slip advertising the orange juice, all in a neat little wire corral.
     The waitstaff are all neat, and range from perky and helpful to sullen and incompetent; there's also that one requisite smart ass waiter who jokes with all the patrons and is the favourite of all the high school students. The clientele range from crying babies to elderly folks with walkers, trendy teenage girls and loud, dangerous looking hoodlums, and any of the types might be seen at any hour.
     Plastic plants hang from the ceiling beams and sit on the counters. Very low pile carpet in semi-geometric designs lies unnoticed across the floor. Cups of eternally refilled coffee sit on almost every occupied table. The food is cheap, plentiful, and overall, edible. It's not the Ritz. It doesn't have to be. It's a Denny's.
Contents:
Dillen
Lucas
Obvious exits:
Out

The most peculiar thing about Garou, is simply the way they can part the seas of a crowd of people. Especially, when that sea happens to be a flock of seniors chatting like chickens. Kenneth, clad in his normal uniform-like attire, spearheads the path into the restaurant which is normally filled around this time with patrons and dinner menus.

Dillen follows along with his hands shoved into his pockets. He gives a sneer to a senior that particularly wants to look right at him, more like stare. The senior looks to his hot chocolate... really fast. Dillen gives a chuckle to this and grins.

Lucas pushes his way through the door, sending an old lady for her oxygen tank when she catches sight of him. He doesn't even look in her direction as he walks up to stand beside his packmates-to-be. "...better still have pot roast, it's not ten yet."

Kenneth grunts softly, locking eyes briefly with a Viet-Vet, and clearly putting the retired soldier in his own place at the bar. "Looks like the high school gym was closed off for bingo night so they all came here," the philodox comments in undisguised rancor. "Booth or bar?"

Dillen looks about and considers. "Booth probably. Don't want all the people at the bar to go away." He chuckles low in his throat.

"Yeah, booth'd be better." Lucas agrees as he glances around at the various people in the restaurant, all of which avoid looking at the trio as much as possible.

And avoid they do. Even the sorry 'new' waitress is picked to handle the Garou. The woman, though older than all three of the boys, certainly doesn't treat them like the happy patrons they should be. "Three?" she asks, her voice wavering. Kenneth just looks at her and she gulps. "This way please..." And the waitress darts off towards the very very back of the restaurant. The philodox goes with, glancing here and there at the food on people's plates. One young child chokes and starts to cry for no apparent reason.

Dillen takes a bit of a sigh as all this happens. "And that is one thing that I really hate." His head shakes and he walks behind the others.

"Got used to it a long time ago." Murmurs Lucas as he follows along, ignoring the frightful looks people send his way, like he was carrying a loaded shotgun and pointed it at them.

Whatever the reason, Kenneth simply shrugs in response as he passes the child by. The mother must be glaring at the trio's backs. Sitting down and sliding in, he waits for the menu to be put (or rather dropped) on the table. Not even a thanks is said to Meg, their waitress as she scoots off.

Dillen slides into the booth himself and picks up the menu. "Okay. Who has what money?" He says quietly. "I think I have a ten left." As he pushes a hand into his pocket and pulls one out and flips it onto the table.

Lucas sticks himself into the booth beside Kenneth and says, "I have a twenty and some change." He picks up one of the menus and begins to look over it. "Mm, cheese sticks. Haven't had those in awhile."

"Just order whatever," Kenneth says with a perusal of the menu. "Are you implying one of us treat the others?" The question rings with a tone of a wolf's dubious growl, as if it were suggested to hunt a deer alone. "If we run outta cash we can just glare at the waitress 'til she leaves us alone."

Dillen looks to the others. "Nah. Was just saying that we could pool it." he shrugs and looks at the menu. "I want breakfast." As he ignores the comment from Lucas.

"Cheese sticks and pot roast, good combination." Lucas says decidedly and shuts his menu before he starts scouting for their waitress, who's in the kitchen trying to stay as busy as possible so she doesn't have to come back out.

Kenneth doesn't say what he's going to get, but drums his fingers in growing irritation and impatience after another minute passes by. "This is so not going to work," he rumbles as he watches Meg attend to another, safer table. The one with the crying child, who has shut up by now and is busily putting on vanilla soft-serve flavored lipstick.

Dillen looks over and shakes his head. "Ma'am?" He says out loud, "I think we are ready." Trying to keep Kenneth from losing his temper. He keeps waving her over with a smile.

"...hope no one is in a hurry." Lucas mutters with a half frown. "Haven't even gotten drinks yet." So, he turns to fiddling with his fork while he waits.

Meg, as it were, finally sees Dillen's wave at her and clears her throat. Now into the lion's pit she goes, stepping over with a forced pleasantry. "What can I get you boys?" she asks, subconsciously drilled into the routine. Kenneth finally sets down the menu that he was slowly strangling on the corners, flicking his gaze up. "I'll get an apple pancake with extra powdered sugar and cinnamon, scoop of vanilla, two slices of french toast, slice of pumpkin pie a la mode..." He pauses, a quick glance going back down to the menu then back up. "And a cup of coffee. Black."

Dillen gives a chuckle. "Coffee. The Grand Slam breakfast, scrambled." Then he pauses for a moment. "And apple pie with some cheese melted on it for dessert." He plops the menu down on the table in front of the waitress.

"Gimme a coke," Lucas begins with a lazy sort of smile that wouldn't make the woman comfortable in the least. "An order of cheese sticks, the pot roast, and the hot fudge sundae for dessert - with nuts."

Kenneth eyes his two companions from the corners of his gaze, before he wills himself to be... pleasant. "Thank you," he adds afterwards, leaning back into the booth backing and unfolding his arms from in front of him. Meg jots down the food items, her pen flashing on the pad, before she repeats the order aloud to confirm it. That look of having found such an eccentric trio of boys shows obviously on her face before she nods and says, "I'll be back with your drinks soon." Retreat!

Dillen gives a low laugh. "That went well." He says as he sees that the booths around the boys have cleared out. "Sure isn't busy for a Friday night." He cannot help but give a small grin. "Guys, We need to find a place."

Lucas nods his head as he leans back as much as a booth will allow. "Well, I dunno about you guys, but I can't go affording a lease on a place - not that I could, anyway."

Kenneth shrugs. "Depends where we want to start sweeping. I've heard of the hospital and the wharf both need some serious clean up." The halfmoon's voice is kept low, and he doesn't look at his companions as he speaks. "Think we could just rough it in the woods if we wanted."

"Lots of places need cleaning about. Those sound like good starting places." Dillen cracks his knuckles. "Maybe there is a kin somewhere that has a warehouse or something that will let us stay in it and in return fix it up?"

"Well, we should stay as nearby our turf as is safe." Lucas says. "I think down by the wharf would be a good place. There's a lot of abandoned old shipping yards and warehouses down there since they don't use the river as much for commercial things anymore."

Meg returns not long after, with drinks in tow. Kenneth doesn't answer the other two just yet, waiting for the waitress to scurry away again before nodding slowly. "But we should check 'em out to see if they're not already taken up by gangs and stuff like that. TV and stuff's said that there's some heavy police activity there lookin' for gangers."

Dillen automatically starts chewing on a piece of bacon. "Think that would good for a bunch like us then?" He raises a brow.

Lucas picks up his coke and takes a drink, nodding. "Figure, if we stick to one place long enough, there's a good chance at least some of the 'spooks' will keep people from bothering us. We just need to keep things quiet around home, don't draw attention to the place."

Kenneth nods again, waiting for his food to arrive which soon does, followed with Lucas' order. "Things look good for us, productively anyway," he says, digging the pointy end of his knife into the pancake. "But where're we gonna get the cash flow?"

Dillen takes a deep breath. "I vote we go into the mafia." He is surely kidding. "Not a clue. I just got a fluke and did some artwork for a lady and got some cash. She paid me in two payments. This is the last of that." He chuckles. "What we need is a nice rich... Kin. Know of one that wants three hot guys?"

"I don't have a lot..." Lucas says as he crams a slab of roast into his mouth, chewing. "Don't know any rich kin either. Maybe our elders'll help if they see us living in a place without electricity and plumbing." He says, half as a joke.

Kenneth eats rather neatly, slicing off a portion of the apple pancake and dipping a piece of the fruit into his ice cream. "Have a couple thousand in the bank," the philodox mentions off hand. "Haven't touched it since gettin' carted off to Fuzzy-ville, but if we need it, there're plenty of ATMs..."

Dillen turns and looks at Kenneth. "How the hell did you get that?" With an upturned brow, a piece of sausage staked on his fork. "If I can get art work around... That can go into the pot. Dammit. I just want a place that is mine."

"Doubt I could get a job..." Lucas mutters around a mouthful of mashed, gravy-coated potatoes. "People'd find anyone else better suited than me."

Kenneth chews thoughtfully on his pancake, remaining somewhat mysterious for a minute or two as he savors the sweetness. "The Saitou Legacy," he explains afterwards to the Get. "What's left of it anyway. But anyway... maybe I'll take on some guys at the courts and win some cash that way."

Dillen blinks a little. "Maybe we could invest some or something?" He gives a shrug. "Always heard you can get cash back... Like an allowance from that sort of thing." Allowance? Did he says that?

Lucas pokes a bit of his meat around his place, "I know a couple of guys if we ever need to get ahold of things that we can't exactly go buying. They wouln't loan me money, but I might be able to do some things for them again."

"If I pulled the cash out, the cops might get on me, but fair enough." Kenneth replies around swallowing a scoop of melting ice cream and pie. "Worst come to worst, we can rough it in the woods and just run back and forth for a bit 'til things get settled."
"So we should be able to make it along, then." Dillen works on his eggs. "Just looking forward to actually doing something, you know?"

Lucas nods his head and sticks some more food in his mouth. "Sooner the better. Now we got the what and where, we just need to decide Who."

Kenneth digs into the pie slice of his without missing a beat or a pause between plates. "Who else do we got on the list again? That one girl right?" Luckily the waitress has deemed it busy enough at the other tables for her to leave the boys alone. Unluckily, Kenneth's coffee has somehow drained itself. "There's probably some others we haven't found out yet."

"Joey." Dillen says without even looking up at the others. "Dunno about any of the others." His plate is finished and he digs into his pie as well.

"Mm, yeah, haven't seen you lately and I haven't had a chance to tell you." Lucas says to Dillen. "Ran into Joey in the woods last week. Actually, she very nearly ran into me... but anyway, we were talking and I offered her a place, if neither of you would mind. She turned it down at first but then she decided to think about it. She talked to you yet?"

Kenneth, obviously not really remembering who Joey is, doesn't say anything in response other than, "If she wants a chance to make a name for herself, our pack'll be the one to be in."

Dillen nods. "Yeah. She talked to me about it." He raises his head up. "You two need to know that she and I are very close. She's like my sister in that way." He pokes at his pie. "I told her that pack comes first and if she is down and things look bad for us all... I would be for the pack." Poke. Poke. "Just thought you guys needed to know that."

Lucas nods his head once. "Her and I talked." The ahroun repeats quietly as he eats another forkful of food. "I think she'll do good, if given the chance, else I wouldn't have offered. We could definatly use her help if she'd decide to join."

Kenneth shovels another scoop of pie and crust into his mouth. "If she's so close to you, then get her in," he states, not exactly tactfully, but with a hint of acceptance. "Lucas thinks she'll do some good, and I say the only way to find out is to see her in action."

Dillen nods. "She's in." He looks up to the others. "Just don't be surprised if she and I spend a lot of time together." He explains a little more. "She has problems with how she deals with things sometimes. I help her. Just feel you need to know."

"Understandable." Lucas remarks as he polishes off the roast and cheese sticks and moves onto his sundae. "Long as she can keep her cool in the thick of things."

Kenneth doesn't seem to hold any particular bias to that. "Just as long as she doesn't run off when it's time to step up," he replies as an echo of Lucas, neutrally. "I'm more concerned of how well we work together." Finally, Meg returns with a half-filled coffee pot and refills the coffee orders. "Can I get you boys anything else?" Another query said in habit. Kenneth simply shakes his head at the woman.

Dillen shakes his head as well. "Nah. Thanks anyway. The coffee is good." Giving her a smile so maybe she won't have the shakes too much later when she remembers.

Lucas also shakes his head in response and tucks into his ice cream and fudgy goodness. "Give it some time, and I think we'll all work together just fine."

Kenneth watches the waitress bob her head and quickly fly off as a spooked quail, despite Dillen's attempt to be friendly. "Maybe," he utters. "Any idea of where to start when it comes to the spiritual side of our group?"

"What ideas do you have, oh chief?" Dillen grins, only using the term in present company.

Lucas rolls his shoulders back as he polishes off the last of his food. "Far as having a psychic in the pack, I don't know of many options. As far as our mascot, that's still up for debate. What's the preferences, so far?"

Kenneth shrugs again. "Something not too angry. We got enough of that amongst ourselves. But not something pansy ass either. Like... like a butterfly. And hopefully something that doesn't look like Pikachu."

[And the chitchat continued with much good stuff to eat. And stuff.]