11/20/2004

11:19 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Currently the moon is in the waxing Half Moon phase (58% full).

Brownstone -- Basement Apt.(#3328RJ)
The basement of the brownstone has been split into two sections. The stairwell leads down into the northwest corner section, which contains the boiler room, furnace, and the elevator shaft. The rest has been converted into another apartment, and Signe's made it into a rather fortified one at that. The only entrance is through a re-enforced steel door with no less than three dead-bolts. There are absolutely no windows at all in any of the four concrete and brick walls. It's a rather stark but functional space. Overhead, the air ducts and plumbing pipes are exposed, while the cement floor is covered by a ragged dark wine and gold Oriental throw rug. A makeshift shelving unit of two-by-fours and cinder block has been erected along the length of the wall with the door, and it houses a stereo, tv and old vcr. Directly opposite this is a beat-up leather couch and two mismatched recliners. The kitchen is small but functional, with a round wooden table and four chairs. Half of the back end of the building has been walled off for a private bedroom, while the rest is open to the living area. This space has been converted into a home gym--complete with wrestling mats, weights, and a full weight boxing bag.
Contents:
Signe
Obvious exits:
Out Bedroom

After her shower, and after the two would-be packmates have headed out, Signe makes her way out of the bedroom. Her hair's still wet, combed back on her head and left to dry on its own. The Get wears light grey sweats and a simple black t-shirt with a pirate's skull and bones design on its back.

[look Signe]
She's not what most would call pretty. Terms like delicate and petite would never be attributed to her, and come to think of it, neither would lady-like. She looks to be in her late twenties, standing roughly between 5'10" and 6'. Her powerful frame carries a full 175 pounds, all of it undoubtedly muscle. Shoulder length black hair hangs straight, not set in any particular style. She wears no makeup, having neither the time nor the care to put any effort into such things, though she does sport several earrings and tattoos. Her eyes are a dark, unremarkable brown that manage to look angry a good deal of the time, whether she is or not. If there is a traditionally attractive aspect to her at all, it would be her finely crafted cheekbones and elegant jaw-line. They give her an air of nobility otherwise lost in her rough and uncompromising nature.
She's dressed in old, well worn jeans. Dirty, chocolate brown work boots catch the bottom edges, and a white t-shirt clings to her well-toned frame. A creased black leather jacket hangs loosely over her shoulders. It's at least two sizes too big for her.

A short knocking on the heavy door sounds after a few more minutes. Kenneth waits outside, gazing around at the surroundings as he waits for someone to answer. A short scrawled paper note in his hand is looked at and then slipped back into the pocket of his slacks. Dressed in his usual button down and slacks, he shrugs the black blazer further up his shoulders.

Signe frowns, clearly not expecting company so late. With a small sigh, she gets up and has a look through the security peep-hole. Not recognizing whoever it is, she asks through the steel door, "Who is it?"

"Kenneth," the philodox answers with an eyeing of the peep hole. "Dillen sent me." No flourishes here, just business.

Signe blinks, pulling back. "Just a sec," she says through the door, and the philodox can hear her undoing deadbolts and chain locks. A moment later the door opens and the Get steps back. She sweeps her arms to invite the Shadow Lord in, eying him thoughtfully.

Suffice to say, Kenneth does the eyeing right back, albeit with a very brief scan. "Thanks," he replies after the invite, stepping in and taking his hands out of his pockets. Waiting for her to finish locking the door up again in silence, he doesn't actually invite conversation at first. Then, he speaks. "I would've brought something as a visitation gift, but seeing as we've never met, I wouldn't know your tastes."

Signe shrugs her shoulders slightly. "Don't worry about it," she says, moving toward the kitchen. "I've got coffee and water, if you want anything." She gets herself a bottle of water and waits to hear what the philodox says in return.

Kenneth doesn't sit, but does have a good look around the apartment. "Nothing for me," he replies, his black eyes straying after the woman. "So what do you want to know?" He slowly steps over towards the TV and has a good look at the technology.

Signe hesitates as she gets her water and closes the fridge behind her. "well, you're direct," she states, coming back to the living room. After another, much briefer, glance over the tall young cliath, she asks, "You know who I am, right?"

Kenneth shrugs a shoulder. "Working on that," he notes, gaze returning to the Get Jarl with a small sense of wryness. "And not particularly, no. Like I said before, we've never met until now." He turns around then, and fully faces her, expression kept at a coldly forced neutral.

Unlike her guest, the Jarl does not seem to have any qualms about showing emotions or being expressive. Her scowl and impatience proves that as she breaks the seal on the bottle of water. "Well, if Dillen told you to come, he must of told you who you'd be meeting, so I'm gonna assume you have a vague idea who I am even though, no, we've never met. That is, after all, the point of this. So, in essence my point was why don't you give me a formal introduction and I'll do the same. ok?"

"Course," Kenneth says with a short nod of his head. "I'm Kenneth Syuusuke Saitou-Sardelis, rited as Dagger's-Edge, Cliath Philodox of the Shadow Lords." Formal isn't half of the tone he uses, but all. "And though I said I didn't know who you are, I know you're Signe-Rhya, and Dillen speaks of you highly. But, as for who you /really/ are, I can't say I know that."

Signe relaxes a little, oddly enough, when the Shadow Lord finishes up. she gives him a simple little nod. "None of us really can say that, no," she answers and then adds, "Yeah. Signe. Deednamed Skadi's Defiant Storm. Now that that's out of the way, to answer your earlier question, Dillen's told me you and he and a couple others are gonna be packing. And you're going to be wanting territory near to ours. I figured, if you're gonna pack with Dill and work next door, we should get to know each other."

Kenneth nods again, chin tilting slightly. "The idea is to get into the thick of it, yes. We were scouting out the worst areas of southside, but it seems like Havoc has a good portion of it in the west." So not exactly uninformed, he keeps his eyes on the Get. "Just want to clean up where the others might have missed."

Signe gestures for Kenneth to have a seat, and she moves to sit and put her feet up without waiting for him. "Right," she says in agreement. "But the east is wide open, by the wharfs. There's this indian kinfolk, too, who's been feeding Havoc info on some of the gangs that run in that neighborhood. So we've got a good place for you guys to start, once you have a spirit."

Kenneth sits when bade to, albeit he doesn't seem to relax an inch. The halfmoon must be feeling his auspice's night to the max, finally turning his gaze off from the ahroun. "Is there a reason why Havoc's territory doesn't extend that way?" The question is asked without accusation.

Signe doesn't seem to take the question as an insult, but there's certainly a bitterness in the Get's tone as she answers. "Unfortunately, we're just not big enough. It's too much territory. Not enough garou to patrol it all. We tried, when we first started up. But, then Doc got killed, and we had plenty to handle down here on the west side. So we closed ranks."

Kenneth nods once, hands folding in his lap. "Well, when the pack finds a spirit to run under, we'll be out there. Though it makes me wonder, what the others in the city are doing. Glass Walkers, Bone Gnawers alike. Aside from that, though, there anything you want to know from me that you didn't find out from Dillen or Lucas already?"

Signe thinks about it, but eventually she shakes her head. "Not really. Just wanted to meet you. Get the ball rolling, so to speak. As for the other tribes, I'll leave you to meet with them individually. The Gnawers have a new hideout. And the Walkers are building a sept-wide safehouse along with their own personal tribal house. It'd be appreciated, I'm sure, if you guys pitched in with that. But that too is up to you guys."

"If it's for the sept, then it's worth it," the halfmoon replies even though it seems like he doesn't have any particular interest there. "Well if you'll humor me, Signe-rhya, think you'd tell me how old you are?"

Signe takes a sip from her bottled water, eyes narrowing at the seemingly out of the blue question. "why d'you want to know?" she asks.

Kenneth puts a finger to his chin, and tapping it once, replies, "I was just curious. It's... hard to say how old Garou are, or could be, if we happen to regenerate as well. You know? That, and just to get an idea of who's fostern and how long did it take for 'em to get there."

It's unclear if Signe believes the young philodox or not, but she answers nonetheless. "I'm thirty one. And I've been a fostern about eight years, now."

Kenneth finally smiles, small as it is and maybe more of a smirk than any expression of happiness. "I see. Well then, I thank you for answering me so honestly," he says, slowly standing up. "I've yet to get a straight one out of Jarred-rhya, but it's a start. Thanks for the meeting, though I believe I should go meet up with Dillen and Lucas again after this. We have one more potential member to consider."

Signe snorts when Jarred's name is mentioned, but she makes no protest when the Shadow Lord gets ready to leave. She simply nods and watches him go. she doesn't even get up.

Kenneth bows his head once, and turns to go. The number of locks and chains to go through afterwards is not too much of a hassle for him. Finally, when the door is open, he turns to look back over his shoulder. "Good night, Signe-rhya," he says quietly, and lets himself out with small rustling of his jacket.