3/22/2005

07:13 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Harbor Park -- The Meadow(#194RJ)
One of the last bastions of green left in the city, mottled and withered grass and weeds covers the earth like a badly stained carpet, with the construction work turning what is left into just bare dirt. The vegetation seems marginally healthier the further it is from the river and much healthier towards the central area of the park around the fountain. Construction work is ongoing here: a raised earthen berm about five feet tall is being built all around the park perimeter, with two breaks each at the Bridge Street entrance and the First Street end. Wooden posts are being erected at regular intervals all along the earthen wall, while tasteful iron gates and fences are being added at the entrances. Overpowering the scent of living vegetation are the exhaust fumes from a busy street to the west and an unpleasant stench from the Columbia River to the east. From the street view or river view, the park is now isolated, as if it existed apart from the city. People in tall buildings have an excellent view of any goings-ons for now, though. In the center of the park, a small glade of six tall trees and a flower bed surrounds the fountain.
The murky waters of the Columbia River flow swiftly along the east side of the park. Bracketing the park to the west is First Street and the city of St. Claire.
Contents:
Cole
Obvious exits:
Bridge Street Fountain First Street River

Luna lights the park up in her fullness, and despite the pleasant weather, there are very few people about. The few that do come by usually don't make a point of staying when they do. A figure is walking the streets, and like a modern-day Bogart, has his hands deep in his pockets as he scans the area. Cole pauses briefly by the fountain, looking into the turbulent waters.

Coming up the meadow from the southern entrance to the park, Kenneth steps over the damper grass as he makes his way towards the fountain. Eyes not particularly scanning, but not exactly unfocused, the halfmoon spots a figure near the fountains. At such a distance, he doesn't immediately recognize Cole. Even so, he diverts his path, seeking almost to go around at a wide berth, and head for a far bench instead of the waterworks itself.

Cole doesn't notice Kenneth at first, either. He's too busy thinking whatever thoughts it is Galliards think. Eventually, though, he does look over to the figure who's actually chosen to stay. He has to squint, but sure enough, he's able to make out who it is. He offers a nod in the figure's direction.

Kenneth isn't looking in Cole's direction when the nod is offered. His eyes instead are turned off towards the river that borders the park further on. Once he does find a bench, however, the Shadow Lord sits roughly and plants a foot down on the bench seat itself and wraps an arm around his knee. Though it looks like he's not looking in the direction of the galliard, no doubt the youth has taken notice and could be looking at Cole with sidelong glances.

Cole looks around the park, and seeing no one else within range, shakes his head. He turns to face the Shadow Lord directly. He doesn't stare at Kenneth, precisely, but does observe him. "I'd have thought you'd be staying out of public places, after all that's happened," he comments in a voice that's loud enough to carry.

Kenneth sharply then, turns his gaze back towards the Fianna. About to say something, but stopping and modifying it, the halfmoon snorts. "It's a free country still."

Cole nods, remaining where he stands. "Can't deny that," he agrees readily enough. "Just surprised, is all." His voice is calm and his gaze has more curiosity than disapproval. "Only heard a little bit about what happened." By this, the Galliard is trying to wheedle more of the story out of the only survivor. Fat chance.

Kenneth shrugs a shoulder at the surprise and mentionings of the galliard. "It'll all get said at moot anyway." This said loudly enough that yellow flags should be tossed, the Shadow Lord simply doesn't seem to care if keywords get out. Either that, or it is a different ploy.

Cole casts a glance around quickly, before looking back. His brows are drawn down. "Are you stupid," he asks in a hissing tone. "Or has your brain just taken a vacation?"

Kenneth turns back to the galliard after a long gaze out towards the river. "Or maybe if you're gonna hold a conversation, you don't have to stand at a distance like we're havin' a shouting match."

Cole snorts. "It's called personal space," he returns, archly. "Some people appreciate it." Even so, he steps closer, to a polite distance. "Some people more than others, depending on the night."

Kenneth watches the galliard's approach with a tightening around his shoulders. Even if it had been subtle invitation, the halfmoon knows about personal space all too well. Jerking his gaze back towards the river, he continues on without pause. "News travels fast doesn't it? That's Alicia for you."

Cole shakes his head. "Heard it from my packmate, Tu," he responds, in an undertone. "No idea where the hell he heard it." He looks toward the apparently fascinating river. "Y'care to make any comments about what happened before it's told at the moot tomorrow night?"

Kenneth's hand tightens towards a clenched fist, but doesn't make it all the way there. A long silence follows, then the halfmoon mutters a low, "I don't know man/

Cole nods, taking that at face value. He lets the silence spin out for a few moments. "Alright. Guess I'll just wait until tomorrow night, then."

Kenneth tacks on a short subnote to aid his explanation of not having an explanation, "Are you looking for something else other than what you heard, or are you lookin' for something to jab at me with later?" His eyes swivel in their sockets, gazing sidelong at the other.

Cole turns his head to face Kenneth. "Not my style," he says, honestly. "I'm always looking for a story. Up to you whether you want to take me up on it, or not. Besides, why would I feel the need to stab you? Barely even know you from Adam."

Kenneth turns his eyes back on the Fianna. "From who?"

Cole shakes his head. "It's an expression. Adam. Like in the garden of Eden." He shrugs it away.

Kenneth narrows his eyes a touch, but then just shrugs. "What's there to say? We got found out... the problem was deeper than we thought. A lot deeper."

Cole snorts. "No friggin' kidding, Kenneth. Two of your tribe are dead. How many are left now? Two, three, tops?"

Kenneth tenses under the statement and question. "Two," he replies with a grit of his teeth. "Cutter 'n I are left. No, I'm proud of that, but ..." He doesn't finish, clipping off with a short 'fuck'.

Cole backs off in a verbal sense, nodding. "Yeah, alright. I'll just be heading along my merry little way, let you have the park to yourself, 'kay?" A close look at his face would show an almost...disgusted expression.

Above the pair, a large raven makes quite a bit of fuss. Squawking and cawing loudly. Not that ravens are know for being quiet.

Kenneth doesn't meet the eyes of the other, loosing a short sigh as he turns his gaze away. "I'm not tellin' you to get lost man. And this park's public ground anyway," he utters quietly. The cawing of the raven makes him look upwards, but the halfmoon doesn't seem quite intent on searching out the bird. "Besides that," he says with a slip of his leg down off of the bench, "You were here first."

Cole seems distracted by the sounds, looking up. He's quite involved in the search as a matter of fact, a curious look on his face. "Seeing as how it's close to my territory, I'd say you're pretty well right. But I was just going to offer that whole space thing again." There's a smirk on his upturned face.

Finds-Stories lazily circles the pair, beady black eyes fixating on Cole.

Kenneth gives up the search more quickly than the Fianna, instead standing up to make a smallish brush of his pants. "What do you mean territory?" he asks, looking back up afterwards.

Cole is squinting. Finding a black bird in the night is not always easy, even with a full moon out. Eventually, he spots the shape, though. He's somewhat distracted when he answers. "That way," he says, gesturing into the distance. "Bridge street, Montrose district. That's Birdseye territory, now."

Kenneth must not be in the know, as he simply looks in the direction of the galliard's pointing. "A new gang hunh?" He stares off towards the direction which Montrose would be. Then, the halfmoon looks back and notes with a small look up skywards, "You lookin' for a ghost or something?"

Cole nods in response to Kenneth. "Jana, Tu, Augustus and myself," he confirms. "Just the bird that's making that noise. It's interesting," he says, noncomittally. And he even sounds convincing!

Finds-Stories dips one wing, Easing toward the ground as she does so. 'Grrrup. Grrrup,' The bird voices a little oddly, as she circles the pair about two feet above their heads. The raven is a very large bird, with a wingspan of over five feet. A few flaps of her wings slows the bird to a near stop behind the Fianna and she neatly drops onto Cole's left shoulder. Admittedly, its and awkward perch. Not really enough room and the raven is forced to keep her wings just a touch spread for balance. Heavy beak jutting forward, the black corvid's neck ruff flairs out. Rrrrrr, the bird voices, then clicks her beak together while looking directly at the Shadow Lord.

Kenneth backs up a step as the bird comes swooping in, and as it lands at Cole's shoulder, the halfmoon looks at the avian hard. At first, he doesn't say anything, just matching the bird eye for eye. Then he breaks off and looks to Cole, "This one yours?"

Cole's surprise is evident as the bird circles in for a landing. It quickly changes to a grin. "Thought it was odd that a raven would be out at night," he mumbles, holding up a finger to Finds-Stories in greeting. He keeps still, to make the perch an easier one for her to use. "Not mine by a long shot. Kenneth, meet Vee. Vee, meet Kenneth."

Finds-Stories croaks softly, in what could pass as a greeting.

Kenneth's eyes flicker back and forth. There's a bit of fascination, no doubt, but more like suspicion. Then, he offers the bird a short, "Yo." Seeing it weird to talk to the bird, though, he instead turn to the bird's perch. "If it's not yours, then...?" The halfmoon leaves off, question unspoken in the public grounds of the park.

The bird's perch answers with a chuckle. "She. She's her own bird, but I guess you could say we're friends. She must have stopped by when she spotted us. She's not a stormcrow or anything, so no need to worry," he says, when he sees the suspicion on Kenneth's face.

Finds-Stories turns her head and Cole gets a poke in the cheek at the word 'crow'. Atleast it was just a poke, as that one wickedly sharp looking beak.

Kenneth tilts his chin a bit, examining the black bird with his eyes. "I wouldn't expect one of Thunder's to come down unless something really was fucked up to all hell," he murmurs, though there's a certain tic to his tone that suggests he doesn't throw out the option. "What do you mean by 'friends' then?"

Cole shuts his eyes instinctively when Finds pokes at his cheek. An unpleasant memory of what he learned ravens eat crosses his mind. He gives a faint smile. "I assume you still don't mind if I explain, Vee," he asks, pleasantly enough.

The raven vigerously shakes her head, then sinks it into her shoulders in a passable shrug.

Kenneth keeps his eyes on the bird then, interpreting the bird's body language to a degree. "Smarter than she looks, hunh?" he mentions, seemingly accepting the bird's intelligence as something tangible the more he watches her.

Cole chuckles. "You could say that," he responds, when he sees the raven's answer. "Her name's actually Val." As if that explains everything. "She's a friend. You ever get told stories of the other changers by a Galliard?"

"I think you forgot who I got for head galliard from the card draw," Kenneth notes with a flatter than casual tone. "And I don't think I want to go mentionin' stuff about wars in the past. But yeah, I heard a little." The raven gets a bit of close-eyed staring again. "So she's... actually one of 'em?"

"Good boy," the bird croaks passibly, in the same voice one would expect from a parrot. Well, ravens are known as great mimickers.

Cole nods, his expression momentarily sobering. "Yeah. She's..what's it again...Corax. And a pretty good shot with a camera, in the bargain." He chuckles when she croaks.

Kenneth hunhs quietly, before he looks past the two briefly, eyes scanning beyond. "And what, you just dropped in one day?" The halfmoon directs the question at the bird instead this time. Hostility isn't there, but a tension running through the youth is.
As before, the black bird's head sinks into her shoulders in a shrug.

Cole remains quiet at this juncture, though he's beginning to grow tense as well.

Kenneth works his mouth like he's licking the inside of his tooth in thought. Then, with a shrug, he turns to move off. "Well, long as you don't go unloadin' on any cars, or my head, s'cool."

Beadly black eyes blink, as the bird turns its head to reguard Kenneth out of one eye. She caws once, relativly softly, then takes to the air. Wings buffeting Cole's face a little as she does so. Hoarse cries mark her departure in the darkness.

Cole shuts his eyes, ducking a bit as the wings brush over his face. "Catch you later," he says, though who he's speaking to is up for questioning. The Galliard moves to the fountain once more, looking down at the waters.