4/6/2005

06:57 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Currently the moon is in the waning New Moon phase (16% full).
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 65 degrees Fahrenheit (18 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the north at 5 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.85 and falling, and the relative humidity is 52 percent. The dewpoint is 47 degrees Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius.)
It is currently 18:34 Pacific Time on Wed Apr 6 2005.

Farmhouse: Fields
What once was worked cropland has been, over the last several years, allowed to go to seed, and the result is the natural prarie which has developed, enclosed on three sides by the forest. It covers several acres of land with grasses as high as a person's waist, large enough to be out of earshot of the barnyard but uniform enough that anyone in bipedal form could be seen approaching through it.
The looming buildings of the farm can be seen to the south.
Contents:
Aubrey
Finds-Stories
Obvious exits:
BarnYard  

Out in the fallow fields, a lone figure it swatting flies. Or rather, practicing a sort of swinging motion with left arm. Kenneth seems to be gripping a wet towel in that hand, and is going through the motion of rapidly swinging the bathroom object through the air. He does so in near silence, save for the quiet huff of his regulated breathing.

Wings are such nice things, espically when you can consider distance 'as the crow flies'. Or in this case, raven. At a distance, Finds-Stories is little more then a small black dot that is slowly growing larger in the afternoon sky.

Kenneth doesn't seem to be paying attention to what's above him, concentrated on his muscle training. The swings alternate from one way to the next, and look an awful lot like tennis swings.

Finds-Stories turns into a larger black dot, then is reconizable as a large black bird as she starts to circle above Kenneth's head. The corvid's harsh and rather loud vocalizations are rather hard to miss, as she gets a little closer to the Shadow Lord with each pass.

Aubrey soon makes her entrance, although she was unaware of the other Garou, or the Corax soon making her sweep into the fields. The Fianna is carring with her a peice of carvable wood and an etching knife. It isn't until she is close enough that she notices Kenneth. "Hey," she calls out from a safe distance.

Kenneth looks up once the raven's cawing gets loud enough and the bird is close enough to have her movement distract his immediate concentration. He stops swinging the wet (and now somewhat dirtied) towel, and watches the corvid circle briefly, only then interrupted by the call behind him. Kenneth turns, and from his distance nods once to Aubrey. "Yo."

The ruff of feathers around the raven's neck flair out, as her vocalization become even louder. Caw, Caw, Crrrruck!

Aubrey steps towards the Shadow Lord now that she has his attention or at least he is aware that she is near. "How are you?" she asks, not knowing how else to greet the Philodox. Aubrey looks up at the louw cawing, scowling a little.

Kenneth's hand seems to find its way to the twin glittering gold rings that hang from a string tied around his neck, and slips them beneath the black t-shirt he has on. "Decent," he replies to the Fianna, glancing up at the bird. His gaze narrows slightly as he does, though otherwise he doesn't say a word to the avian herself.

Finds-Stories makes a sound that is quite remnant of a huff, as she turns away from the pair. Dropping down into the long dry grass about twenty feet away.

Aubrey turns to look towards Kenneth. "Have you been helping with all the buiness taking place in the city?" she asks. "I have been trying to nag people for any reason information that has not been heard from the moot."

Kenneth takes a moment to watch the bird land further off, before turning back to Aubrey with that slightly narrowed gaze of his, gauging her. "Depends what business you're talkin' about," he replies, wary. "'Cause if you hadn't noticed, not too many people are hunky-dory with the ones who let their packmate go off an' eat bums, babies and senior citizens."

And a head pops up in the feild, as a sharp whistle pierces the relative quiet of the evening. Val stands about twenty feet away, fingers in her mouth as she completes her whistle.

Aubrey rolls her shoulders into a light shrug as she reponds to Kenneth. "Well, everyone makes mistakes." she replies in a simple reply. Her head turns towards Val and she quirks her eyebrow.

Kenneth stares at Aubrey awhile longer, the mask behind which his true emotions are hidden getting lifted off for only a second as the theurge turns to Val. Then it's back in place firmly, as he too looks to the Corax. "What is it?" he asks aloud after the woman now, a plain tone shrouding the query.

"Is anything being done about the greenhouse?" Val asks, fairly directly for the Corax. "I've been rather out of the loop lately. Wouldn't even know if one of you guys had tried to call me. Place is rather a mess and all, what with all the dead animals surrounding it and the things that made them dead of course."

Aubrey listens quietly, her eyes held on the corax, listening. She tilts her head some, "Huh." she remarks.

Kenneth looks from one woman to the other, throwing the dirt-flecked towel over his shoulder to keep it from trailing on the ground. "If you mean the thing about jumpin' cows and poison birds, I only heard about it. Imagine someone's takin' care of business out there, or going to." The Shadow Lord regards Val. "You don't gotta be standin' 20 feet away to hold a conversation you know."

Basil walks out from the barn with a little fatigue showing in his irregular steps, sweat having collected around the neck of his shirt and other typical places. He doesn't seem to notice the grow the others just yet, wandering a good distance away from the barn. He simply plops down into the grass and lays on his back with arms spread wide trying to catch his breath.

Val looks around her with an inbred paranoia that is second nature to the slim woman. She does slide closer, but makes a point of staying out of arms reach. "Well, yes, that is what I am talking about. There were about a dozen birds, all ravens and crows." Val can't quite hide her disgust at that fact. "They fly very fast. About twice as fast as I can." The frail womans head turns to face Basil's direction and she frowns.

Aubrey places her hands in her hoodie, listening to Val with the same type of look of disgust in her expression. "That's horrible," she mutters.

"And on the ground?" Kenneth queries, looking rather too calm for the news being reported. In the distance that he can see Basil, the Shadow Lord pays the cub little mind, instead concentrating his attentions to Aubrey and the Corax.

Val wrinkles up her nose. "All I saw was that cow, but it could have been a bull. Didn't quite hang around long enough to see what bits it had. But really, I'd be more worried about the birds. They are very fast and can bite just as easily as anything else, even if it is more of a jab then a bite. It will still make you dreadfully ill."

Kenneth wipes off a hand on the side of his jeans, shrugging a shoulder. "Few bullets plugged into them'll send them down quick," he muses aloud, although a certain dark in his tone suggests the halfmoon is contemplating. "As long as they don't fly out here, and keep out there, then at least the problem isn't spreadin'."

"Not yet, anyway." Aubrey replies. "Perhaps this problem should get taken care of?" she asks the two, raising an eyebrow. "Is this place you speak of in anyone's territory?"

Making his way through the fields towards the small group is Brom, sporting his new battle scar across his chest, looking a bit banged up around the edges. He is shirtless, blue eyes narrowed as he looks over those gathered, arms slowly crossing over his broad chest.

Val shakes her head and points off into the distance. "Its southwest from here, in some isolated farmland. Its all very flat. Really, I'd worry about people seeing things, just because it is so flat. From a distance, these animals do look normal enough. The birds that chased me were very territorial and have killed a lot of the local wildlife, but most of them went away when I got out of the general area.

Val seems to have noticed Brom's arrival and scowls, taking a small step back.

Basil is laying in the grass looking a touch tired, and his clothes show the signs of physical exertion. After a few minutes he sits up, resting his elbows on his knees while looking off into the distance. The cub is broken from his thoughtful stare when the wind blows a strand of sweaty hair into his mouth, making spit and mutter something under his breath.

Kenneth couldn't mistaken Brom's appearance for anything, and though he seems to be less on edge than usual today, the Shadow Lord keeps his calm as he watches the approach of the Get. Val and Aubrey still in his immediate attention, the halfmoon states shortly, "Then once people get their asses in gear, Pest Control'll have it taken care of." The Shadow Lord looks back over to Brom, and only a small dip of his head is paid the Get in silent greeting.

Aubrey gets a little skittish, although not clearly as Val, as Brom approaches. The Theurge quietly distances herself from the Get in a poliet fashion. "I would help, although I have other busines to attend to, and there are certainly enough non-childbearing women around-- I think."

Snorting over in Val's direction, Brom stops next to Kenneth's side as he furrows his brows a bit. "Hey bird, I got a question for you about that flat land. I got a map from Auggie and all of us are curious as to how much distance we have of flat land from the range, to the estate itself. Also, how many leaping cows did you see?" He squints his eyes a bit, getting right to business. "The welcoming party is already assembled and ready to go soon as the moon thickens to the Half, then we strike. We're planning a scouting party in the Umbra as well to check out what is going on. You interested in still helping us out in that?"

"Well, aren't you polite, espically considering that I've already risked my neck to find this place for you," Val huffs. "Nearly got my neck rung already, because of that pregnant woman, Signe, telling people that I was trying to blackmail you guys. Geez. You try to help and it blows right up in your face! Not that she believed me when I told her she was mistaken, even if I don't lie. Rules about that kind of thing and all that." Well, that seems to be a sore-spot with the bird-woman. The small woman crosses her arms, back stiff. "As for cows, I only saw one, but I was awful distracted as I was flying for my life at the time. The greenhouses location is marked on the map, you can tell the distance by reading the map. But if you'd like something a bit more up your alley, it would take you about twenty minutes at a jog in lupus to reach the place, once you leave the area of undeveloped forest to the south of here."

Kenneth listens silently, glancing over to Aubrey as the Fianna too, steps back. He doesn't flinch from Brom's side, however, despite what is an immediate tension at the Get philodox's proximity to him. "We got any clue as to who owns the joint?"

"Well, sorry you had to do something 'brave'. I don't care about the rest of that shit, if you want, deal with me and Magpie from here out regarding this situation. I am leading this expedition and it will be met with victory." Brom says with a rumble in his throat, fingers sliding down to graze over the new scar over his stomach, fingering it a bit. "Twenty minutes at a jog." He starts to think some. "That is about 3 and a half miles." He runs a hand back through his hair. "Not that I know of. Kenneth, do you know anyone that could possibly get that information? I can speak to the Walker's if I 'have' to. Hey, bird, you got an address?" He asks. "Or at least a street name by chance, if there is one? Is there a long drive way leading to the place?"

Aubrey remains quiet for now as she listens.

Basil has by now seen, and heard the gathering of people talking amidst themselves but can only pick up snippets of the conversation. It probably isn't one he can contribute to or speak in, but he does get up and move closer to listen. Information is never a bad thing to have.

Val's expression darkens. "I didn't have to do anything," she hisses. "I searched out this place because you asked me too. Even after your Tribesmate refused to take my word for something, threatened me, then told people that I was trying to blackmail you guys." The woman rolls her shoulders, trying to relieve some of the tension in them. "I get nothing out of this, not even a small amount of respect it seems. Good day." With that, the small woman half-turns, preparing to leave.

Brom snorts loudly at the bird. "You know exactly what you get out of this. If I didn't 'respect' what you were doing for us, I'd flat out kill you and deem you useless. Right now, you got a chance to throw all that shit back in Signe's face. Honesty, I'm looking forward to seeing that happen. That and -I- would owe you something big, and you know for a fact when a Get of Fenrir owes you, its something of honor, and I'm fucking strong and nasty, so I can take anything you throw at me. So turn back around and help out." He says with a rumble in his throat. "Cuz' we need you."

Kenneth scowls a touch, first at Brom, then a bit further at Val. Stepping forward a pace, putting himself in the line of fire between the two, he huffs out roughly. "Look, Vee. We have two options. One, you help us take out this craphole before it starts gettin' real bad and you find your flightpath's a lot more hazardous. Two, you leave it be and maybe end up dead, either 'cause Brom and his kind don't like you or 'cause we /all/ end up dead an' dying from these poison things or whatever." The Shadow Lord glances back to the Get. "Either way, we work together, and we can take this pain in the ass of a greenhouse out so we get back to threatening to kick each other's asses after."

Aubrey crosses her hands against her chest, allowing the two others to speak. The Theurge is wise to being the one not to speak when enough is certainly beng said.
Pack> Kenneth is like, WTF is wrong with Brom's head? Maybe Snaekolfr chewed him up real good.

"Oh gee, do things for me because I'll kill you otherwise. Since you'll be considered useless and all that," Val states with a shake of her head, sounding downright disgusted. "Thats more then enough reason for me to pack up and leave. Threatening me is not the best way to make me want to help, you know. I'm surprised that you don't already owe me, for doing something that you couldn't manage on your own and nearly getting killed in the process. As for being strong and nasty, you all are. I am not about to fight you, or any of you. Sometimes the lot of you make me wonder if you can think of things in any terms aside from fighting." The woman turns partially back around, still scowling. "I am not your underling, I do have a name, and I don't take orders from Garou, even if they can turn me into a paste. If you want me to help, how about you actually try asking me in a respectful manner? Huh? No more threats, no more bullying." Val huffs softly. "Do you want to know what I want out of this? Perhaps a bit more trust and an actual promise that I will not be harmed. Really don't think that is all that much to ask for. I have no intention of doing anything to any of you, or bring harm to your sacred places. All threats will get you, is me leaving and never coming back."

Aubrey smiles a bit to Val's answer, although she remains very quiet. The Fianna appears amused, just a tad.

Kenneth lifts his hand, and drops it. The Shadow Lord looks to Brom for the Get's answer to that.

Brom lets out a loud snort, eyes rolling up in the air. He throws his hands up in the air. "I am being nice! This is as fucking nice as I can get. I am trying my best to be 'patient'. So, 'Val'. Will you -please- help us, because it would be /appreciated/?" He asks with a looming growl in his throat, eyes turning back to the bird. "An you'll probably only hear that once from me, so take a picture and put it on your wall or something. I'm in a good mood cuz' I got a new scar and I'm still living on that current buzz. If that's not good enough for you, then fuck it, we'll make do with what we got and go from there."

Val's scowl fades somewhat, replaced by a faint smirk. "Well, you know there is a rather nice charm school downtown." The small woman rattles off an adress. "Could probably help you out in the manners department. Quite a nice place really, but you'd probably drive away most of the woman's buisness." The small woman shrugs her shoulders. "Depends on what you want me to do, really and if I can get what I want out of it. Getting rather tired of having to worry about being plucked and all that. Rather like living and breathing. Real attached to the breathing thing, actually."

Kenneth puts a hand to his temple and rubs, turning and walking off down the field. "Call me when you need something," the Shadow Lord snorts out with disgust, sliding the towel off his shoulder.

Brom rumbles loudly at the Corax as his eyes narrow some. "I'm not going to some stupid prissy manners school. Are you able to peek about in the Umbra by chance?" He asks with a loud huff. "I want you to get as close as you can without being dangerous for you. Just take a peek, see if the spirits are all fucking looney there as well. If they are, then I know we'll have two messes to clean and not just one. Sometimes the Umbra tells more than the realm." He shifts his eyes to Kenneth, letting out a loud huff. "I'll find you later then, brother."

Val flashes her teeth in a quick grin. "Far better then most of you, I'd gather. We're nearly as at home on that side, as on this one. Do you want me to do this alone, or with a group of your people tagging along?"

"What do you feel more comfortable doing? I can send Three-Blades along with you, but with the moon this small, she won't have as much as advantage as you." Brom says with a sharp nod of his head.

Kenneth doesn't make much reply as he continues walking, though the Shadow Lord's pace back to the farmhouse is a slow and deliberate one.

Val hmms and crosses her arm. "Well, to be honest with you, I'm not about to do it when the moon is this small. May be good in the umbra, but I'm not suicidal. Would be willing to do it, when it stops being quite so dark on the other side. I'll ask Yi, as she is rather nice. Rather pleasent to deal with, really. See how good she is at this sort of thing. I can do a pass over the area nd look for a driveway, staying far enough away that I won't get chased off again."

Aubrey licks her lips and slips away almost as quietly as the Shadow Lord, although she looks to be heading towards the woods instead of the farmhouse.

"Yi, is Three-Blades, and everyone thinks she's the best, so its what I'm going with." Brom says as he shifts his shoulders a bit. "Anyways, I'm going to see where my pack mate is slinking off too. I want to have this ended no later by the next Full Moon, so, if you can keep in touch with me, that'd be cool. If you can find anything out about who owns the place, that'd be brillant. Later." He says, heading off after Ken.

"Will I get what I want out of this?" Val asks, as Brom turns to leave.
"I'll put in a good word or two for you if we can pull this off. I'll make sure you get your share of the pie." Brom says as he glances over his shoulder at her as he moves off.

Kenneth appears to be headed for the barn as it were, shifting directions from the house itself. It would seem he is approaching the area where Basil is sitting, though whether or not to talk to the cub is up in the air.

Val pulls a bit of a face. "Never said anything about pie," she mutters to herself, before hunkering down inthe grass. A large raven explodes into the air a second later as the corax leaves the area.

Picking up the pace a bit, Brom makes his way towards Kenneth, making his way to his side as he strides, glancing over at him curiously. "So, up to hitting the city for a beer?"

Basil looks up at Kenneth as he approaches, directing his gaze away from Val and missing her change. "Can I help you, Kenneth-Rhya?" He ask simply, keeping his tone low but respectful.

Kenneth doesn't slow his pace persay, but the Shadow Lord's slight glance over as he walks indicates his acknowledgement to the Get. "I'm not legal t'drink," he replies to Brom first. Basil is looked upon in such a way that is observing and scrutinizing. He doesn't quite answer the cub just yet.

"Neither am I, but no one says otherwise when I slide cash across the counter." Brom says with a wide grin upon his face. "C'mon, I'll even buy, maybe get Dillen to come down and join us or something. Can teach me how to play pool." He eyes the cub for a moment, then glances back to the Lord.

Basil smiles a little bit at Kenneth. "Old enough to die is old enough to drink, legally or not. You look old enough to be twenty one to me, really. And you certainly act like it, Kenneth-Rhya." He stays seated where he is with his eyes on Kenneth's face, anything but challenging.

Kenneth stands beside Brom, and at Basil's words, well, the Shadow Lord can't refuse. "Whatev' then," he concedes more to the Get than the cub. "You still talk too much Basil. Y'better watch it 'fore someone decides on a cubname for you like... oh... Flaps-His-Tongue-Like-Bird's-Wings."

The silent form of Auggie appears coming from the farmhouse, making his way through the tall grasses towards the trio of Garou. He nods to them, his eyes narrowed in curiousity and some caution. "Hey."

"Or how 'bout.. Can't-Seem-To-Shut-The-Fuck-Up?" Brom says with a sneer down at the younger boy as he slides his hands over his hips, then tilts his chin as he glances over his shoulder towards Auggie.

Basil shrugs his shoulders again at that, still smiling a little bit all the same. "I know that." He stands up all the same and doesn't so much as glance at Brom, turning back towards the farm house. He sticks his hands in his pockets and starts walking back to the house at a leisurely pace, his shoulders slouched and posture loose.

Auggie smirks as he hears the topic of conversation. "We talkin' cub names for Baz? Flap-jaw would suit him fine. Squawker. Bigmouth." He watches as the cub walks away, head canted to the side, still smirking. "Looks like he can dish it out, but he can't take it."

Kenneth tilts his chin towards Auggie, noting the Child ahroun. "Yo." The cub is given another passing glance before Kenneth turns back to Brom. "Maybe we should run the cub 'round in the city some. He seems bored outta his skull."

"We could, but that is not my decision to make. Hey, Talks-Too-Much, come back here." Brom calls out to the cub with a toothy grin, then looks over to Auggie. "Three and a half miles from tree line to the estate by the way."

Basil stops when he hears Brom call to him, turning around and walking back the same way he came. "Yes, Brom-Rhya?" He lifts his head to look at the tall figure of a man, waiting for whatever they might tell him to do next.

Auggie nods to Brom, his eyes flashing upwards as he thinks on that figure. "That's a lot of open country. Can move fast in lupus, but... can't rely on that. Where'd you get the info? Any other new news?"

"Apparently we should be worried about the birds flyin' faster than the terrors from the Hitchcock movie," Kenneth rumbles out. "But somehow I don't think it's nothin' a few good shields couldn't take care off." The Shadow Lord shrugs, adjusting the towel on his shoulder. "An' no one's claimed the cub yet. Or rather, he hasn't made his choice."

"Twenty minutes running in Lupus. Got it from Val, the Corax girl. She is giving us information in return for respect. So, whatever. Long as we say please and Thank you she'll work with us." Brom says with a rumble in his throat. "She said she is willing to go to the Umbra and fish for us if possible, but only when the moon is bigger. I want to get the attack nearer to the Half and Gibbous." Staring over at the cub now, he huffs. "I spoke to my Elder, Signe. She isn't exactly excited with the idea of having a lost cub in her family. Its her call. So she'll have to sniff you out and see if you're worthy."

Basil shrugs his shoulders at Kenneth in regards to the last part. "None of the Tribes have really made a case for me to join." He looks over to Brom, raising an eyebrow for just a moment. "Save for you, and now I might not even have a chance there." He just shakes his head. "All I know about are the Tribes I can't join, or wouldn't be in."

Auggie folds his arms over his chest and grunts. "Wanna wait till the moon's bigger. Organizing a war party? Who's in so far?" His gaze lands on Basil, and the Gaian shakes his head slowly. "Sure, you can't be a Fury or a Wendigo. So what? Have you even talked to all the tribes? Are you bein' proactive? You're a mouthy shrimp of a cub, and you expect to be -wooed-?"

Kenneth makes another noise of outward disgust, staring at Basil hard. "This ain't no country club, dumbass. A tribe doesn't pass out invitations like you're headin' to a weddin'. You don't sweet-talk or guilt trip your way into a tribe! You /earn/ your place in it, and you do it by showin' you're willin' to do /whatever/ it takes!" Whatever it is, something opens the invisible scars on the Shadow Lord and he storms past, away from the trio, and bleeding Rage.

Glancing back and forth from cub to Kenneth, Brom looks a bit confused, huffing out once more. "Don't worry about it Basil, you'll get a tribe soon enough. Just be respectful, don't overly talk and what not." He rubs his neck, then answers Auggie. "Requiem, which I am now Alpha of, Emma, Tecmessa, KL, Isaac and Three-Blades and I hope Birdseye. I was suggested I should send you along with Yi on a scouting party. But the moon is low and I'm kinda undecided about asking you guys to go out on your own in the realm. That'd be up to you to decide along with your Alpha."

Basil shrugs his shoulder again, running a hand through his hair. "When I talk, I talk too much. Even when I try to be respectful. When I can't leave the farm house, how can I seek members of different Tribes to learn from them? Whenever more then one Garou get together, they are typically busy with business. I am damned if I do, and damned if I do not." His tone is even and low and the cub looks off to the side at a distant woodline.

Auggie nods to Brom. "Oh, congrats." The Gaian doesn't seem all that surprised at the news about Brom taking over Requiem. "I don't know if Tu will come. Birdseye knows about the situation, now, though." A pause. "I'm surprised more from your tribe aren't joining up." The statement is said neutrally enough, though the Gaian frowns a bit. The frown is transferred to Basil. "There are Garou here all the time. Fianna, Gnawers, Walkers, there's my tribe, us Gaians, hell you could even be eligible for Uktena. Ask to learn. Keep your eyes down and your jaw shut. Listen and learn."

"Don't start whining, Basil." Brom says with a snort in the cub's direction, before looking back to Auggie. "The Jarl is pregnant and Emma and Dillen are joining in. I am sure to let Gunnar, James and Ericka know as well, but to be quite honest, I'm leaving out the Fostern for a reason. I think we got something to prove." He says with a wry grin upon his face.

Kenneth only gets a few yards away before his place slows. Outbursts shortlived, but the coals still red hot, the Shadow Lord turns halfway and gazes straight on at the three, dark and distant.

Basil pauses at the thought of being eligible to join the Tribe the interesting lady came from. "Then I'd like to meet all that I can, when they have the time to talk with a cub. But most of the time they are here, they aren't just hanging out. They Uktena are interesting though. That one lady said she'd love to teach me things, if she was a member of the Sept. Too bad she isn't." He doesn't pay much mind to the whining comment, or at least, doesn't seem to.

Auggie grunts at Basil. "Reggie'd be the one to talk to. So leave a note." He turns back to Brom, nodding slowly. "Let me in on the plan when you got time?" Kenneth gets the briefest of glances, the Gaian's mouth twitching down, but not forming a full frown as the Shadow Lord's brooding is noted.

"Of course." Brom says to Auggie, then follows his gaze towards Kenneth. "Anyways, I'm going to take my pack mate out and get him drunk." He says as he starts off through the grass again. "Talk to Jana, ask her to get ahold of me if she wants to. Otherwise, I'll think of something else."

Kenneth breathes out slowly, draconic in demeanor as he watches, and waits. When it looks like Brom is coming after him, the Shadow Lord turns once more and starts off ahead, pace deliberate but not without its own distance.

Basil turns again and starts heading back to the farm house as he was doing before he was called to, casually strolling towards the back door.

Auggie nods to Brom. "Have fun." He pauses, and then calls louder, "See ya around!" The farewell is intended for both members of Requiem, though it's more gruff than friendly. He watches all the Garou depart, staying where he is.

Pool Hall(#3490RJ)
Pool tables, with one foosball table and an air hockey table hiding among them, dominate the space of the hall, hardly yielding any space for the motley crew of players chalking their sticks and eying the brandy bottle at the bar lining one wall. The dust and scratches on all surfaces save the green velvet lining the pool tables indicate this hall as skimping on maintenance and cheap on cleaners. Its lack of flashy videogames and surplus of toothless kibitzers underscores its appeal to the older crowd. No natural sunlight is permitted into the hall, its lighting provided by bulbs swinging from the ceiling.
A recent 'renovation' to the hall has caused many splinters and embedded bullet holes, adding much to the aged atmosphere. Ruddish stains, dark and ominous even under the lights, refuse to be washed out of the floor. A dart board brightens up the walls with its red-and-black scheme, and a moosehead looks down on the proceedings.
Mounted from the ceiling, a television blares its glaring brightness and noises.

A set of double doors, one locked, the other unlocked at the whims of the hall manager, lead out to the street. Unobstructive doors behind the bar undoubtedly lead to storerooms.
Contents:
Brom
Obvious exits:
Outside  

After finally catching up to you and coaxing you to join him at the pool hall, Brom makes his way in, with a shirt, striding as if he owned the place as he moves for the bar. He snaps his fingers to the tender, showing 'two' fingers, firmly nodding his head.

Kenneth enters the hall, having discarded the towel someplace back at the farm in front of the barnyard or so. Never stepping into an 'adult' place such as this is enough to give the younger halfmoon a clouded curiosity to the way he gazes around the place. He slowly makes his way around towards the clacking balls and chalked sticks, watching like a wolf prowling at the edge of a sheep herd. Some clientele pay him little heed. Others look up and stare at him long enough to be unnerved or hostile. For the latter, the Shadow Lord simply ignores them, and instead heads back towards where Brom is by the bartop. "You hang out here a lot, I take it," he observes.

Sliding into the bar stool, Brom nods his head over to Kenneth, sliding one of the beers over to him. "Yup. Live here practically." He points to a pool table, where a sign sits: This is my table, not yours. He grins faintly and unscrews the top of his bottle with his fist, then takes a quick sip.

Kenneth looks at the beer like it was an alien object, checking out what Brom does to the liquor before slowly taking the offered drink. His eyes stray to the indicated table, and its sign. The Shadow Lord blinks. "But you don't play billiards?" he asks after, looks back at the Get. Daring, the halfmoon lifts the bottle up to his lips and takes a sip. It is promptly followed with a choke, a cough, and a beer-mixed spit from the youth and a grimace of disgust. Kenneth says little else, too busy working to recover from the drink. He does manage to set the bottle back on the counter at least.

"Nope, I don't play pool. But I was trying to and some fucker told me to leave his table. So, I beat the hell outta 'em until he couldn't move and I told it was now -mine-. I haven't touched it since, but nor has he." Brom says as he lifts his brow in amusement, giving his beer another slow sip. "Suck on a lime slice first an then give it another shot."

Kenneth makes another small noise of holding back a retch, as he glares at his bottle. Wetting his lips, the halfmoon swipes the drink up again, looks at it, and then tilts back. His eyes close in a wince as he downs nearly half the bottle in one shot, forcing the liquid down and keeping it there. Half goes by before he has to set the drink back down, clunking the glass roughly onto the bartop. Again, the Shadow Lord coughs hard, regaining the breath gone. The bartender is down at the other end of the counter, wiping glasses, and definitely sending the two Garou quick glances every now and then. Kenneth wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and looks back to the Get. "I don't... need a lime," he breathes out, breath full of beerscent.

"Just makes it taste better, thats all." Brom says as he shoots a warning look down towards the Tender, then looks back towards the Shadow Lord as he continues to nurse on his own glass neck. "Could start you out on something tastier, like a Bacardi or I dunno.. Captain Morgan's rum. I think you'd like Vodka. Beer isn't for everyone."

Kenneth shakes his head in outright refusal, but picks up the lime slice that came with the beer and napkin. "Whatev'," he replies, looking from citrus to bottle, and then doing somewhat as instructed. The lime doesn't help all that much though, but Kenneth finishes the beer in a little under 5 minutes flat. Using the un-limed hand to wipe something from the edge of his eye, the Shadow Lord stands up afterwards, still looking ok. "Pool's about strategy. Thinkin' ahead of where you're gonna direct the cue ball. You don't always think about the ball you're sinkin' in, but you remember where the others all are. And only when you've thought out a plan, then you take the shot." The young halfmoon sucks in a breath, chest slightly sticking out, and starts for the empty pool table with the sign on it.

"I was also told its about math and its obvious I do not do much thinking." Brom says, motioning to the tender again and plucks another pair of bottles up, heading after Kenneth. "The only good thing about pool is that some fucker always wants to get pissy and then you beat the shit out of 'em with the stick and throw 'em over the bar."

Stepping over to the table, Kenneth neatly takes the sign off and places it to one side beneath the table. "Maybe a little bit of math," the Shadow Lord says, "but so long as you know where the ball's supposed to go and you know how to get it there, you don't need to be a scientist to figure out the ball's gonna go somewhere if you push it hard enough." He goes over to the cue rack, selecting a couple of sticks and a set of balls. "'Sides that... there's nice money to be made from pool games." He pauses, looking to the Get and the next couple of beers. "M'father liked the game. Watched it a lot on ESPN," he says evenly, though there is a slight furrow of his brow to it.

"Lots of money in Ultimate fighting also." Brom suggests neatly as he grins, rounding the table and taking a stick from you, twirling it about in his hands as if it was a dangerous weapon. The wood spins around and around in a single hand, then begins to twirl it around his shoulders and hips, almost as if he was some sort of ninja. Its obvious that he's good with anything melee wise.

Kenneth shifts his weight so that the end of the stick narrowly misses him, the halfmoon's head tilting away with a slight frown. "Y'don't 'cause a scene when you win against someone at pool," the Shadow Lord utters, moving to set the balls up on the velvet. "I'm not the greatest, but I figure you can break." He nods towards the cueball. "Just hit the white ball towards the whole 'n striped colored ones. An' don't sink the 8 ball without sinkin' the others first or else y'lose." He travels back around the table, hovering over one of the beer bottles before he takes up a second.

Catching the stick on rebound, Brom leans over the table, jerks his hand back and slams the white ball hard, cracking into the triangle and sending the balls chaotically bouncing along one another. He doesn't sink any, but he splits them up pretty well.

Kenneth watches the rack whizz around and bounce off the banks, waiting for the balls to come to a stop. "An' since y'didn't sink any, I go an try to put the balls in. Whichever I sink first, that kind of ball I put in after." Surprisingly instructive, Kenneth drinks another few gulps of beer before he leans over the table and lines up his shot. With a crack, the Shadow Lord sinks a striped. The game proceeds on for a bit with the youth putting in about four more balls, and then misses the next shot. He squints at the errant ball, and then turns the table over to the Get.

Huffing after each shot, Brom looks antsy as he watches you, eyes narrowed. Soon as you miss, he nearly pounces the table as he leans forward, lining up a shot. WHAM! He slams the white ball hard into a solid, sending it careening over the edge, bouncing and rolling across the floor where it skirts between the feet of a passing waitress.

Kenneth is drinking another sip of the beer before the cueball is sent over the edge of the table. Visibly the Shadow Lord stops drinking, beer sloshing against his tightened lips as he watches the ball roll that way. The waitress doesn't get a chance to react, and trips upon the rolling ball. She goes down with a cry and a clatter of glass and tray. Suddenly, the vicinity of the pool hall has stopped like there was some kind of record scratch. The Shadow Lord slowly sets his beer bottle back down on to the side of the pool table.

Blinking his eyes, Brom calls out. "Aw, fuck, SORRY!" He says, waving a hand towards the familiar waitress, trying his best not to grin, though he fails miserably. Heading over, he lumbers past the girl and bends over to pick up the ball, cupping it tightly in his hand. He gives another look to the girl, then heads back to Kenneth, cracking his neck from side to side. "Well, I aimed for the pocket, it just didn't agree with my strategy."

"Did I forget to say you might want to try hitting the ball softly too?" Kenneth mutters, his eyes on the clientele rather than the waitress. The woman struggles up to her feet as Brom passes, face riddled with embarrassment and no amount of anger. "Watch it next time!" she scolds the big Get, but is quickly moving away to get something or someone to clean up the mess made with. "Hey!" calls out a man and his companion at one of the other tables. "That better not have been my beer!"

Turning around, Brom calls over. "Hey, how about you suck my dick instead? Shut the fuck up and sit down before I come over there and fuck you up." Crack! Brom slams his pool stick down hard on the table, splintering it in half, revealing a sharp, jagged edge in his fist as he holds it up, twirling it slowly, letting out a low pitched whistle.

Kenneth mutters something else under his breath, and looks over with a small squint of his eye out of reflex when the pool cue gets shattered in half. "Fuck," he growls out, and looks in the direction of the man who'd shouted. The man at the far pool table, however, looks tough enough on the outside and definitely able to hold his own in a normal bar brawl - he looks in fact, to be even bigger than Brom is by pure poundage. "How 'bout /you/ shut up before I fuckin' kick your fuckin' ass, little man!"

"Little man? My fucking dick is bigger than you, stupid pussy ass faggot. C'mon over here if you think you got the balls!" Brom says as he twirls the broken stick around in his hand. Reaching over, he swipes a ball off the table and turns, hauling it as hard as he can towards the man. Someone sign him up for the Cubs! He lobs what is easily about eighty miles an hour, and accurate as he puts 'maaaaaybe' a bit of rage into his throw. Zip!

Strong though the man may be, fast he isn't. All that extra poundage hampers the guy's dodge, and the ball hits him off the shoulder and ricochets up off onto the man's third chin. Oh, that's gonna leave a bruise. "Ow! What the fuck! Oh that's IT!" The man charges around the table, face contorted into a grimace of anger and vengeance, beady brown eyes searing their way towards their target. Kenneth curses aloud, being between Brom and the man, but instead of actually getting in the way, he dodges to one side. The pool cue is jammed hard down underneath, and the man trips in his forward charge, tossed off balance. That doesn't stop his inertia though, and he is definitely about to smash right into the Get.

All-Yoo-Ken! Soon as he stumbles forward, Brom is reaching out with his wide span, aiming to send a fierce uppercut straight into the man's chin as he waits for the right moment, then lunges in forward and up. He is fast on his feet unlike the other and there isn't an inch of fat on his near three hundred pound frame. A wild, feral grin is in his eyes as he looks to ram the butt end of his stick into the man's temple.
Despite the trip up, the man's flailing fists manage to meet Brom's flesh just as the Get's uppercut does. It's like hitting a walrus, sending the other man's chins jiggling around before the titan collides with the Get. In the next second that the Get's halved cuestrick contacts with the other's head, that is enough to send the brawler reeling and seeing stars. Kenneth actually smirks a bit, despite the slight reflexive flinch of seeing the stick contact skull. That moment's distraction is suddenly diverted as the man's companion, as noted before, has snuck up on the Shadow Lord and grabs the youth from behind in a choke hold. Flail!

Grunting at the hit to his chin, Brom tastes blood in his mouth, barking out a laugh. "That is the best you got tubby?" He says, cranking out another hard pound into the man's rib cage, followed by another shot to the skull as he dances upon his feet, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Told you to sit the fuck down!" Wham! "But No! You just had to get your fat ass up and pick a fight. Now you're ganna be sucking beer up through a straw between yer broken teeth." Crack!

Heavy he might be, strong he might be, and able to take a beating, the man isn't nearly as 'experienced' as Brom would be in savage unbridled brawling. The guy fights back though, and awfully filled with desperation rather than anger now, like something tells him he's fighting against more than just some punk who accidentally cost him a beer. By chance, he manages to grab Brom's wrist just before it hits his jaw again, and the Get is countered with a full on slam of the man's meaty elbow to his nose. The guy says nothing, only a strangled battlecry mixed with pain. Kenneth meanwhile continues the struggle with one hand clinging and pulling against the choking arm of his opponent. He grasps for the cuestick he dropped, and instead hits the pool table hard. Digging into a pocket, he extracts a ball and with a coughing roar, slams the ball back against the taller and stronger man's eye, jamming it against his skull. The man yells out, and stumbles back to drag the Shadow Lord down with him as he falls.

Squirting out blood from his broken nose, Brom swiftly moves his knee forward, aiming to ram it between the man's legs in a dirty, surprise technique as he uses his forehead to bash and return the favor. He is whooping loudly in excitement, finding himself in synch with each strike, obviously thrilled witht he idea of beating this guys ass in.

And utterly lacking in tactics is the guy as well. Dirty fighting wasn't scheduled, and neither was a nutbuster to the crotch. The first attack from the Get connects without obstruction other than contact with the massive gut of the other guy. The thick forehead of Brom's aids him well and draws the final blow, sending the man reeling back and totally offbalanced from the pain flowering between his legs and his skull. The guy falls backwards, only to land right on top of Kenneth and the other guy's legs. By sheer luck, the Shadow Lord's leg doesn't get caught in the fatman's downfall, but the smaller philodox is crushed between hundreds of pounds of flesh. His own strikes with the pool ball stop, even though he had managed to slip out from the choke hold and was busy pounding the other man's face in with his bony fists. "Mother Fucker! Fuckin' choke me will you? I'll fuckin' KILL you!" Rage seems to speed the halfmoon's actions as he slams his fist and the ball contained in it again and again up until the other man crashes against him. A roar of rage is shouted out from the Shadow Lord, the Beast edging into his tone.

Making his way over quickly, Brom leans down and grabs the fat man, jerking him up easily and throwing him to the side. "C'mon Kenneth." He says, slamming his foot hard into the other man's side with a heavy steel toed boot, looking to topple him off his pack mate. By now, the tender is pacing back and forth, shouting wildly at the pair to break it up. Never does he call the cops, Brom tends to be a big tipper after his fights and if anything, its been drawing more crowds.

Kenneth now has smashed a good deal of the man's face in, his left hand bloodied and none of it his own. As the fatman is tossed up off of him, the Shadow Lord is freed and resumes his face smashing. When Kenneth said he was going to kill the man, he certainly sounded serious, and about now it looks like he really is going to put the man under. The victim is dazed already, his entire face bruised and battered, nose bleeding profusely and lips cracked and cut against his own broken teeth. The added kick to his side only causes another curl off to the injured side and a pathetic cry of pain. The fatman is rather down for the count, and encircled by watchful, cautious patrons. Kenneth, however, certainly doesn't seem to show any signs of stopping.

"Ken, /now/." Brom says as he grabs the younger boy by the back of his shirt, jerking him away quickly as he starts to nearly drag him to the exit. "Come on." He lets out a heavy breath as he shoves you forward to the door, giving him a bloody snarl under his breath. "Drop the ball. Good fight." He is peeling off his shirt, revealing the scarred up upperbody that causes some of the customer's to gawk and stare, using it to wipe his face and blows his nose painfully.

Kenneth is just as light as before, and is easily grabbed up. He takes a wild swing at the Get that misses easily, and only as he is dragged off from the target like an attack dog on a leash does the Shadow Lord seem to come around. The red that just started to encroach on his vision seeps back with each foot he is dragged away from the downed man. Breathing fast and hard, Kenneth throws down the ball with a clatter, some of the clientele wincing with the sound, others grimacing in horror at the sight of Brom's body. "Fuckin' motherfuck," the Shadow Lord curses angrily, blazing eyes only barely starting to die down.

Pushing open the door and into the cold air, Brom chuckles slightly as he cracks his nose back into place, giving the Lord a pat on his shoulder. "So, up for this again tomorrow night?" He asks, still carting a beer with him that he snagged off a table, passing it your way. "You can show me how to play pool again." His eyes light up playfully as he stretches out his upper frame.

Kenneth stumbles right at the entrance, and when the two are outside, he leans heavy against the wall with his bloodied fist pressed against the building face. The Shadow Lord is recovering from the hard chokehold put on him earlier, and doesn't answer immediately. Once he gets his voice back though, he looks back up at Brom with a withering glare. "You... are such an asshole," he growls, an eye squinting as he wipes off a tiny edge of his lips for froth.

There is a snort, one that causes a grunt of pain from the Get. "An you loved every second of that, admit it Ken." Brom says, still holding the beer out to him. "You beat the holy fuck outta him, I bet he's ganna have freaking brain damage after that. Ya'know, I kick the hell outta someone's ass at least twice a week when I go there. Its almost expected. C'mon man, tomorrow night, you down or what? That's our fucking turf now man."

Kenneth coughs again, finally managing to clear his throat with a couple of blinks as well. He looks down at his hand, covered in blood. There is some contemplation in the moments that pass, before he flicks some of the blood away from him with a sneer of disgust at the sight. Careful to keep his hand from touching his already blood-flecked shirt and clothes, the Shadow Lord looks back at the Get. "Whatev'. But now what? Those two guys are still in there."

"They won't be there tomorrow. You ganna take this beer or what?" Brom says, dangling the brown bottle back and forth. "Fuck it, lets just go home." He says, shooting a look over his shoulder. "I'm sure someone is ganna call an ambulance or something." He says, then starts down the street, tossing his shirt at you. "Here, wipe off on this."

Kenneth glowers as he is tempted with the bottle. Quick like a snakestrike, the Shadow Lord's hand shoots out to snatch for the beer, clasping it in his vice-like grip before he downs another good portion of the bottle with a grimace. Even after a brawl, beer doesn't taste good. But it does provide some refreshment with the cool liquid, and that's enough to soothe the simmering Shadow Lord. The shirt is caught with his bloody left hand, looked at shortly before he wipes the blood onto the cloth roughly and tosses it back at the Get. "Last thing I need's police on my back," he grumbles. "Should we head over to Shadow's End and clean up?"

"Sure, an tomorrow we'll come back and play more pool." Brom says as he starts down the street, yawning to himself. He seems to be in a rather good mood, grinning to himself as he lumbers on with a proud stride. "Man, it feels good to have Fenrir back in my veins." He rumbles deep in his chest in a bassy tone.

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