4/10/2005

03:00 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Currently the moon is in the waxing New Moon phase (10% full).
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 54 degrees Fahrenheit (12 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southeast at 6 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.18 and falling, and the relative humidity is 59 percent. The dewpoint is 40 degrees Fahrenheit (4 degrees Celsius.)
It is currently 14:37 Pacific Time on Sun Apr 10 2005.

Elson Avenue, Downtown
On the western edge of this stretch of road, Eleventh and Twelfth Streets, the neighborhoods are quiet, a quiet of fear more than calm, to judge by the occasional broken glass of a window and other signs of crime or violence. A street or two eastwards, movie theaters, restaurants, and more stores begin, and much further, stretching from Ninth most of the way to Fourth, are bars with rooms above them with stairways to the street, movie theaters of dubious repute, and women in red lace or fishnet strolling along the sidewalks, near the stairways. On occasion, a man is seen, too, flashily dressed with too much jewelry.
Contents:
Dillen
Obvious exits:
Red Mill Apartments  East  West  South  

An odd sight to say the least. Dillen sits on the steps of one of the apartment houses. He holds in his hand a piece of wood, carving at it with a switchblade knife. He looks up and around, checking out people as he sits there. Nothing too noticeable, but he still does.

Kenneth has changed his shirt today, but the color is /still/ black. Go figure. The halfmoon makes his way down Elson from the intersection at Fourth and Elson, walking along on the sidewalk as he has his hands stuck in his pockets. The Shadow Lord looks not in the Get's direction, but across the street at the shops on the other side. His expression is calm (for what can be said as calm for him), and rather intently placed on the commercial businesses.

Dillen happens to look up and see his packmate wandering down the street. He flips the piece of wood in his fingers, sliding it into a pocket. The knife follows. He rises up and walks over to Kenneth, coming close, he says... "Got a minute?"

Kenneth's attention elsewhere, he doesn't quite notice his packmate's approach until the Get is nearly upon him. Dillen's question is at first replied to with a sharp look - one that usually is reserved for what happens when strangers bump into each other. When the Shadow Lord clicks recognition, he purposely slips his gaze off of the Get's face, and nods minutely. "Yea, I got time," he replies, voice even. "Just takin' a walk. Lookin' for a barber's."

Dillen nods his head. "Mind if I walk with you?" He gestures down the road. "Do... What do you think of the Brom thing? Do you think it's a good thing at all?" He looks to his packmate, a kind of trust in his eyes that hasn't been there before between the two.

Kenneth resumes the walking, pace slow. "What do you mean?" he asks at a conversationally quiet tone, one the halfmoon seems to have taken to easily when he's not angered. "Do I think it's a good thing that we have an actual pack again?"

Dillen shrugs. "Yeah, I guess so. I just... I can't help but think that it's a good thing overall. But I still can't stand the pompous attitude he has."

Kenneth holds back a snort, shrugging a shoulder instead as he gives an adult bookstore a slightly longer look before turning to other business fronts. "He's a meathead," the Shadow Lord comments, assuming this explains all. "If the spirit took him in, though, then I don't argue. I'm no new-moon."

Dillen lingers on the store a little longer, peeking through the door as it opens and a guy walks out. "Just wanted to know if you thought it was a good thing. Yourself." His eyes flash back again as the door opens for a person to walk in.

Kenneth doesn't stop on his stroll. The Shadow Lord has his own goal to accomplish- finding someone who will take a blade to his hair and make him look presentable. "I have my regrets," he answers the Get, "but as long as it does not stop me from doing what I need to do, then I will bear with it." A second long glance is sent towards a liquor store, and here the halfmoon notions with his head. "You goin' in? Gonna grab myself a Snickers."

Dillen nods his head. "Sure." As he shoves his hands into his pockets. "Could use a snack myself." As he directs himself to the store. "What do you want to do... With the pack."

Kenneth pauses before he enters the liquor store, eyes distant for a second before he turns and looks at the Get. One word is uttered. "Vengeance." Then, the Shadow Lord is entering the small 3-aisle convenience store and heads for the candy section.

Dillen follows right along, a light in his eyes as he hears that word from Kenneth. "Right with you on that. Guess some of that went through me the other night and made me do more than I should have. I just wanted to win that. Was an easy fight, and i should have known better. But I had something to prove to the enemy."

As the two walk into the store, the counter guy looks up from his paper-reading and gives them a bit more of a furrowed and suspicious look than he normally spares customers. "One student in the store at a time," the man calls out to them, an authority to his voice. Kenneth selects a Twix instead of a Snickers, looking up as the man utters the store policy on minors. He glances over to Dillen, then back to the counter guy.

Dillen reaches and grabs a Skor bar, walking straight to the counter and opening a cooler to pull out a Coke. "Just getting these two and will be outta here." As he sets them on the counter.

Dillen's approach is eyed with the wariness a healthy stag gives to a wolf. The counterworker is afraid, but stands his ground. There are no weapons drawn yet, only sizing up. Hakim, as it were on his name tag, takes up the laser-gun and rings up the candy bar and Coke. Kenneth walks over and he is eyed with even more wariness, but the Shadow Lord does no more except lay the Twix on the counter, keeping his hand on it. "Separate bills," he tells Hakim. A brief pause. "Please."

Dillen just shakes his head and chuckles a bit as he reaches, somewhat slow, for the bills in his pocket. "Here ya go." As he pushes the three one across the counter, using both hands to pick up[ his good. "Just put the change in the ASPCA jar." He nods towards a battered puppy bank with a label.

Hakim crooks his fingers over the money, ringing up the Get's order first and has to pause before remembering the galliard said to put the change in the donation jar. The counterguy blinks at Dillen a few more times, and then turns to ring up Kenneth's bar. The Shadow Lord slips a dollar bill over wordlessly when his total is announced, and instead takes his change with him. He turns and starts on his way out again, not bothering with a thanks, or a goodbye to Hakim as the Lord steps out into the light.

Dillen shakes his head and walks out behind Kenneth. "Sheesh. Can we say tension?" Giving a grunt as he plops off the steps of the place. "And the best part is, neither of them know what the problem was. They are still scratching their heads." He pushes the candy bar into his pocket, opening the soda.

Kenneth unwraps his Twix, taking a small bite out of the chocolate. "It's a bad neighborhood. Blades have been runnin' this section of town for awhile I hear," he notes, conveniently passing an old building whose side is tagged with graffiti. "But it's the only place someone'll be able to handle guys like us. Or guys worse than us."

Dillen nods. "SO I have heard. I just find it a place to sit and not be bothered." He sips from his drink and sighs. "Sucks to be the top of the food chain, I guess."

Kenneth mellows a touch further, and the Get can sense it with the continued chewing of the chocolate and caramel cookie bar. "Happens, yeah. We ain't at the top though," he observes, head turning as the halfmoon eyes the listings on a movie theatre showing the latest flicks. Then he turns to the Get, and asks, "What do you think of Brom stealin' your girl?"

Dillen lets out a deep sigh, like a balloon deflating. "She wasn't my girl to begin with. I was someone to help her forget Brom." He shakes his head about the whole situation. "Hurt like hell." He finally admits.

"So they were an item already," Kenneth interprets, noisily sucking a sweet-covered tooth. "You'll find someone else," he then says, tone unpretentious. "Guessin' by now the girl who liked me's already gone an' found some other guy too."

Dillen nods his head. "Yeah. Long story. But in the long run, Brom beat her... So she ran from him." Dillen shakes his head. "And she still went back to him. I just don't see it." He turns and looks at Kenneth, "You had a girl?"

Kenneth shrugs a shoulder, adopting a nonchalant manner. "She told me she loved me," he elaborates quietly, taking another bite of his candy bar. "I didn't exactly... get a chance to reply." The Shadow Lord shrugs once more. "Next thing I knew, I was stark naked in some cave lookin' at Cutter and Jean, and Jarred.

Dillen raises a brow. "That's... Odd. Do you think it may have been a bane or something?"

Kenneth flicks his gaze over and in a rare instance, laughs outright. "Hell no!" he exclaims, and then he composes himself. "I knew Beth for 2 years. She wasn't any badguy."

Dillen raises a brow and chuckle himself. "Was just wondering, sounds like something happened. And you have no clue as to what?" He pulls out his own candy bar, putting it in his hand and slamming it against a wall.

"Eh," the Shadow Lord continues, the first Twix stick disappearing into this mouth. As Dillen slams the candy bar into the wall, Kenneth gives him a puzzled look.

Dillen looks back to Kenneth. "breaks it into pieces." he opens the package and pulls out a chunk. "Just Eh? Surely there was something..." Dillen begins to put the pieces together. "That wasn't... Your first shift, was it?"

Kenneth looks away after, and continues walking. "Yea, it was," he answers unembellished. "I heard she was ok after. Even snuck outta the End once to call her, but I got caught by Trevor an' Jana." He seems to be ok with telling the Get all this, stirring the water beneath the bridge. The second Twix stick is bitten. "What do you plan on doin' with the pack then?"

"Have you tried since then to call her?" Dillen looks over to his packmate. "I want to make the Wyrm hurt for what it did. Vengeance about sums it up."

Kenneth shakes his head in answer, his eyes flickering over across the street. "Bingo," the Shadow Lord utters, seeing what looks like a salon called 'Little Snippets'. No, it's not a very proud name. "I plan on startin' with the bloodsuckers downtown," he utters quiet as a snake's hiss, before checking the traffic and suddenly darting out into the street.

Dillen shakes his head and stands, watching the traffic move about the Lord. "Gonna get hit that way!" He yells out. "No honor in it either." He mutters beneath his breath. As he waits for an open spot, walking across the street.

Kenneth narrowly avoids getting run over, but makes it across the street without trouble. He turns around once he's on the other side, and smirks at the Get before sticking the last half of the Twix bar in his mouth and walking towards the hair salon.
Dillen snickers beneath his breath. "You just invite death, don't you?" He says with a wide grin. "Like Peter Pan, Death would be a great adventure..."

"I am not afraid of it," Kenneth replies around a mouthful of chocolate and cookie crunch, approaching the hair salon and peering in. The Sunday afternoon is a lazy one, but the customers inside have the chairs filled. They range from women to young men, attended by two stylists and a third girl with a made up, brightly dyed red spiked do working the cashier machine. "Hm," Kenneth utters mutedly, observing from through the front window first.

Dillen looks through the window as well. "Dude. She's hot. Should ask her out." He means the chick with the red spiked hair. "She looks like she could handle you."

Kenneth turns his gaze from the window to eye Dillen, like Kirk had suggested to Spock to smile more. "You're forgettin' a few things, like the Curse and maybe a certain thing I'm missing," he replies simply, before heading for the front door of the salon to go in.

"Oh, come on! There is more to things than that! You just have to be creative with your fingers." Dillen looks at "Spock", quite innocently. Then he grins widely.

Kenneth rolls his eyes as he enters, stuffing the Twix wrapper into his pocket and wiping the edges of his mouth in subconscious movement. He makes no comment about Dillen's use of for fingers, instead stepping up to the spikeyhaired girl at the small cashier's counter. She's busy reading one of the many magazines in the salon, mouth working at what probably is some kind of gum, or mint. The Shadow Lord doesn't exactly say anything yet, and instead waits there like a looming cloud, drifting unnoticed.

Dillen looks to Kenneth and then to the girl. He cannot help but chuckle as the Lord waits for her to look up. Dillen just walks over and sits in a chair, watching the show he has this evening. He slowly munches on his candy bar.

Kenneth stands there looming, weight unshifting, body still as the seconds tick by. As the girl turns over a page in her magazine, one of the stylists seems to catch Kenneth's standing there by the reflection in the brightly lit mirrors, and turns around from her haircutting. "Hey Thea! Take care o' him," the woman who looks in her late 20s calls out to the girl. Thea glances up after, and startles for a brief second as she sees the Shadow Lord. "Oh hey hon, didn't see ya," she explains with an apologetic smirk of a smile. When she speaks, the girl's tongue piercing can be seen. "What can I do ya for?" Kenneth blinks a couple times at Thea, at first not saying anything. The girl waits awhile longer, looking at him expectantly, and finally the Shadow Lord answers, "Just.. need a trim." His body doesn't move at all. Perhaps his eyes are doing the pointing to the rather obvious length of his hair.

Dillen cannot help but snarf on a laugh as he tries to hold it back. The stunned ability of the Lord shocks him, as does the non-challant attitude of the girl to the two wolves. "Just a buzz cut, like the navy." Dillen blurts out, sure to get a look from Kenneth.

Kenneth rewards Dillen with the predictable reaction, glaring daggers at the galliard before he turns around and mutters through clenched teeth, "Don't mind him. He's an idiot." A second, baleful glance is cast over his shoulder at Dillen, and then Thea speaks up again. "Mmhm, just a trim huh? Yeah, looks like y'kinda need one." The girl sets her magazine to one side, grasping a clipboard off to one side of the counter and a pen. "What's your name, hon?" "...Kenneth." "Kenneth, a'ight. Just have a seat over there an' we'll getcha when a chair's free ok?" "..." The Shadow Lord nods once, turning around and going to seat himself in the waiting section of the small salon, while Thea sets the clipboard aside and gets up to head towards the back, behind a curtain. Kenneth sits himself down beside Dillen and hisses. "You're an asshole."

Dillen just lifts a newspaper and holds it up like he is reading it. When Kenneth comes back and chastises him for his comment, Dillen folds down on side. "I'm tellin ya. She's digging on you." He then whispers, "Bet she's in the back talking about you. Notice she didn't even flinch when you are standing and looking right at her?"

Kenneth scowls at the Get still, falling silent and reaching over to grab a battered hairstyling magazine on the low table. One of the women further towards the back in one of the chairs has a towel wrapped over her wet hair and curlers, and is bidden to move to one of the alien brainwashing machine-like throne of a drying and styling chair. As she sits with her magazine, Thea comes out of the backroom and notices the empty chair. A small comment is passed between the red-spiked girl and the older stylist, and the two seem to switch places. Thea returns to the counter, where she picks up the clipboard and reads off the next name. "Kenneth?" The Shadow Lord closes up the magazine he was staring blandly at, and stands up. "Yea," he replies, turning to eye Dillen once before proceeding on towards the counter. He stops there at the cashier counter, and Thea thumbs the chair at the back. "Go ahead an' have a seat. I'll be right with you in a moment." Thea doesn't look like she's flinching, no. Maybe she's just that kind of girl. Either way, Kenneth doesn't seem to respond with the same enthusiasm and nonchalance, and the halfmoon sweeps over the tile floor to flump down into the chair. His hands grip the arm rests, and he stares at himself wordlessly in the mirror.

Dillen peers over the paper and is deep in thought for a bit. He bites at his lip, looking at the two for a long while before he decides to test his theory. If one Garou isn't bothering her, then maybe two will. He rises and walks to right behind the girl, looking in the mirror at Kenneth. "Dude. Want a drink?" he pushes a thumb in the direction of a drink machine in the corner.

Kenneth doesn't look back at Dillen, but rather looks at Dillen's reflection. He eyes the Get's flipsided face for a moment, before replying. "Sure. If they got Coke." The halfmoon continues waiting, gaze slipping at times to watch the reflections of the activity behind him. Soon, Thea has finished answering a call for an appointment, done some last snatch readings of the article in the magazine she had open, and makes her way towards the back chair where Kenneth sits.

Dillen comes back from the machine and puts a coke down in front of Kenneth. "One for you too, Thea." He smiles and turns, walking back to the chair at the front, grinning at the two.

Thea glances over to Dillen when the Get returns with a couple of drinks, and looks at the Get with a puzzled blink and slight smile, nodding and taking the offered soda. "Thanks, I'll drink it afterwards," she tells him, seeming just a touch more nervous in the presence of both Garou at once. Rolling a cart laden with hair cutting implements beside her, she takes off the red clippings poncho shield and swings it over the Shadow Lord, who doesn't flinch with the movement. Turning her attention back to Kenneth, the girl tilts her head this way and that, examining the lay of his hair while sending an occassional glance to the Get. "You need a trim too?" she asks Dillen, a method of bypassing the obvious question of his presence.

Dillen shakes his head, his own shaggy hair falling around his head. "Nah. I like it the way it is right now. Growing it out." He shrugs. "Was just keeping my buddy there company and making sure he didn't chicken out." He says, grinning at the other. "Haircuts scare him so." Clearly full of shit.

Kenneth peels back his lips in a feral looking show of his teeth, using the mirror as his way of directing threatening eye laser-rays of death at the Get. "Shut up, Dillen," he snorts, looking utterly ridiculous under the poncho. Thea smiles a bit, chuckling in the shared joke with the Get before she nods to the galliard. "Yeah, well, I'll be gentle. I promise," the girl teases before telling Dillen, "If you could wait 'round the waitin' area... customers wandering around the salon's a bit hazardous- all the scissors and razors an' wire y'know." Thea runs a hand through Kenneth's shaggy head of hair, testing out its thickness and length.

Dillen looks down at the chair he's sitting in. "Okay. Will stay put." He reaches up and gives a small salute. "Wouldn't want to get hit by a rogue pair of scissors!" He shakes his head a bit and then laughs.

Kenneth closes his eyes at the touch, the Shadow Lord actually flinching (gasp) when Thea's hand sweeps like a plow through his dark locks. "How short you want it?" Thea asks him, grabbing up a bottle to spritz the Shadow Lord's hair with water and wet it. "Just outta my way," he mutters with a crack of his eyes open, getting used to the feeling of someone else touching part of him that he normally doesn't let anyone close enough to even lift a finger to, let alone put blades to. "Mmhm," Thea notes acknowledgingly, picking up a traditional razor. Soon, the girl is making short work of the halfmoon's hair, slicing away at the shag.

Dillen just watches for a bit, a smirk coming over his face as he watching the Lord almost melt into the chair. He nods his head a slow way, approving of the act.

Kenneth slits his eyes as the hair clippings float down in front of his face and onto the bright red umbrella-material poncho he's wrapped in. Looks like a pretty flower. A scowling one. "So where y'from Kenneth?" Thea asks the youth, doing a small talk kind of thing that hair stylists end up doing. "Uptown," Kenneth mumbles in reply. "Yeah? Got some friends from uptown - we hang out at Manta Shock livehouse, or Harper's bookstore sometimes. You been there?" Kenneth hesitates in his reply, before uttering a low, "Yeah, been there." Snip snip.

Making his way past the hair cut place is Brom, looking wound up tighter than a drum. He is scowling heavily, staring out into space for a moment until something in the back of his mind tingles. He pauses, then peers into the window, blinking for a few moments, before jerking the door open and storming inside.

Dillen had been sitting in the chair, grinning like a madman until the door flies open and Brom storms in. The grin quickly fades away and he looks to the other Get. "Dude. Watch the door. Don't want to have to buy it."

Brom's extremely rough entrance causes the door to clatter open on its hinges, despite the pneumatic door hinge up at the top that keeps it from getting utterly torn off and to the side. Various clientele glance up sharply, and maybe someone in one of the chairs got their hair cut just a tad shorter than they wanted just now. Kenneth is lucky, with Thea in middle of switching from razor to scissors, the punk girl looks over as well, and the surprise at seeing a guy like Brom catches her as good as an uppercut to the jaw. The activity seems to stop for those few heartstopping moments, tensed as a herd of prey suddenly has their space invaded by a wolf. "Hang a minute hon," Thea says quietly to Kenneth before she puts down the scissors and starts her way to the front of the small space. The other stylists, older looking than the girl, quietly resume their hair cuttings, suddenly losing the ability to chatter with the customers. "Can I help you sir?" Thea asks, her face and tone the picture of pure politeness- and an iron will.

Making his way right past Thea, Brom ignores the woman openly and says with a near growl in his throat. "Kenneth, Dillen, we need to talk, now, outside Its important." He says, his voice holding a slight amount of murderous insanity behind it.

Dillen blinks at brom some and raises a brow. "It can't wait for ten minutes for Kenneth to finish his hair cut?" He plops the paper back on the table and looks to Brom's back as he passes the Get.

Thea blinks with a startled shock of being utterly blown off, and she turns around with a scowl on her face looking at the Get Philodox. The girl however, seems to know enough to hold her tongue in this place of business, and promptly turns to head back to Kenneth's chair. The Shadow Lord, however annoyed he is, has already slid off the chair and gotten to his feet, face an icy cold mask of control. Restraint. He looks utterly ridiculous with half his head being a shorter length than the other, and he well and truly knows it. Glancing back to Thea, he looks at her neutrally, and in a low utterance tells her, "I'll be back in a moment." Then, reaching around the poncho tied to his neck, he takes it off and leaves the synthetic robe on the armrest of his chair. The halfmoon waits for Brom to be the first to leave.

Letting out a snarl of frustration, Brom heads back to the parlor, snagging up a chair and pushes his way outside. "Just finish your fucking hair cut." He says with a rumble in his throat, letting the door swing behind him as he settles down in front of the store.
"It's a little too fucking late for subtlety," Kenneth growls out under his breath. "Let's just go outside and get this over with. Quickly."
Dillen gets up and walks outside, folding his arms across his chest and looking at Brom. "Okay. What's up?"

Standing up, Brom is scowling. "I'm going to kill White Bear, that's for starters. That fucker says I'm now banned from the Bawn because I wouldn't take his shit last night because he failed to deal with a threat."

Though the three of them must stand out like a sore hammer-hit thumb, no one on the passing by seems inclined to gawk for very long. People avert their eyes, others stare, realize it, and quickly look away before swinging wide or even crossing the street. Kenneth runs a hand through the side of his hair that was cut, testing out its shortened length as well. "What was the threat?" he asks simply, a poster-child of calm compared to the Get philodox.

Dillen blinks. "Um... Start at the beginning?" He looks as if the record in his head hit a skip and won't get off it.

"Don't fucking know now. That new indian girl cornered a hiker deep in the woods." Brom says, dropping his voice some as he curls his fists tightly. "She attacked him in the wolf form and he was bleeding. Bear, Blades, Kills Wise and I all came upon it. I shifted to homid and came out from the trees to try and talk to him. Bear, the entire time, kept barking at me to not kill him when I /wasn't/. I was talking to him to try and figure out who the fuck he was and why he was in our fucking woods. So finally, I got sick of the insults and told Bear to deal with it since he thinks he has all the answers, even called him a worthless mutt. He has no fucking tribe, and he wasn't doing a damn thing but sitting there looking stupid. So he gets pissed at me, jumps up and kills the human and orders me off, saying he's the highest in station." He barks out a laugh. "Now I heard he convinced the Warder to make sure I'm off."

Kenneth folds his arms over his chest as he listens, his face unchanging with the telling. "He's always thought he was king shit of turd hill," Kenneth notes in cold observation, "but no one's been able to touch him 'cause he's got mad backups." The Shadow Lord clearly isn't playing or teasing with the use of slang. "Lucas and I both thought he'd get run out by now since the buglovers' patron ripped him offa their nipple. So, what's become of our Edgar Allen?"

Dillen looks at brom and raises a brow. "And did you kick his ass and show him you were higher in station than he was? Challenge his ass?"

"No, I didn't because at the time, Kills Wisely was about to fucking frenzy and I wasn't going to throw down with a pair of Ahrouns. I think he wants to join Requiem, but I wasn't about to fuck everything up last night. My mouth was running away with me." Brom says, seething with anger. "I plan on challenging him to the death."

Kenneth sniffs once, like he were in wolf testing the air. He wets his lips with a short swipe of his tonguetip, and looks back through the salon window, where he catches people furtively glancing towards the three, but never for long. "How long're you gonna take the judgement from our high and mighty protector of the heart?" he asks, voice still kept at a low volume.

Dillen looks to Brom, curious of the answer as well.

Shrugging his shoulders, Brom says. "So I can't go on the bawn, here is me giving a flying fuck. What the hell am I ganna do on there anyways? Walk around and sniff flowers? I'll speak with the Alpha, and if I run into his Elder here in the city I'l knock her ass out."

"He's a Guardian," Kenneth adds in thought, ignoring a passing car on the street that honks for seemingly no reason other than to serve as an irritating gesture. "If you're talkin' about Megan, I don't think she's got the nutcracker to break Seeker's shell. You challenge the White Bear, an' you'll be challengin' the top honcho out there."

"Fucking asshole. Like to rip him one myself for making me back down after that sand creature thing." Dillen leans against the wall, looking at people coming past.

"He has /no tribe/, Kenneth. Why the fuck 'is' he a Guardian? If he was a Guardian, how the fuck did some human get into the bawn? Why the hell did he just sit there, barking at me the entire time? What the hell is four wolves going to accomplish with a human?" Brom says with a deeper growl in his throat.

Kenneth keeps his cool some how under the barrage, staring up at the larger and more intimidating Get. "I don't know why he's allowed out there, let alone why he can play pet pup. I wasn't there when you an' the others were out there dealin' with some guy." Kenneth looks back to the salon, somehow communicating that feeling of just how displeased the Shadow Lord has been about Everything before. "Things are fucked here from what I've heard, ever since the place got its ass kicked once by the Enemy. Everything I've been told about how important traditions are, all that crap goes flyin' out the windows and hittin' the fan when it comes to crunch time. Either way, Brom, you got a problem, then you challenge. Fenris doesn't take anything up the tail."

"SO let's let Kenneth get his haircut and a number..." Dillen looks over at Kenneth and then back to Brom. "Then we go challenge and kick his ass. You got your pack behind you, man."

"I am about five seconds away from making a phone call, getting my girl, jumping on a plane and going back to the White Oak so that I can enjoy life in a /real Garou/ Sept." Brom says, nostrils flaring, then shakes his head. "All that shit I said before about sticking around cuz its home? Well, call me a fucking retard then. Staying here will get you killed if the weak is leading."

"And you want to run instead of sticking up for yourself?" Dillen folds his arms across his chest. "Dude, that doesn't sound like Brom." He looks highly disappointed at the moment.

Kenneth looks back sharply at Dillen, but turns back to Brom, rather expectant as well.
"I am not fucking running from /nothing/." Brom says with a snarl as he looks like he is five second away from opening a can of ass whoop on Dillen as he glares heavily at the Skald. "I just don't feel like getting prison raped by a bunch of fucking losers who barely saved their shit after it was stolen from them the first time. Who the fuck is taking over this Wyrm raid? Any Fostern? Sept Alpha? Signe?" Beat. "NO!. Fucking Cliath's are. The Elder's here are fucking lazy and too busy spreading their legs. Where is the heart? Where is the rage? The /tradition/? No wonder this place was a laughing joke. I came here to make a difference, not suck some pup's dick because he hides behind the Warder. I got better shit to do and wars to fight." He snarls. "Come with me then? I'm proud to call you pack. Come to the White Oak and see how it really is."

Dillen looks right straight at Brom. "The kick up and show this sept what it needs to know and quit being a baby and whining about how much better it was at your own sept! If it is broke, fix it, Dammit. Stop standing and do something." Dillen turns at this point and begins walking towards the farmhouse area.

Kenneth releases his folded arms, a rough sigh billowing forth. "And then there's the rules, Brom," the Shadow Lord intones. "Take no action that causes a caern to be violated. You jump ship, and what's going to go down? This place. Who's gonna go down? What's left of this hole we call Gaia. The heart, as you so put, is right where it needs to be." He lifts a hand and thumps his chest. "You want us to come with you and back you up, fine. But we ain't goin' to no White Oak. I got nothin' to lose, and everything to gain by staying here. And I got scores to settle."

"You got /White Bear/ to protect your precious Caern." Brom says with a snarl. "Since obviously your wonderful Warder sure thinks he is hot shit." With a darting look to Dillen, he rumbles loudly in his throat, looking as if he is ready to spring. "Just like how I had to fix Requiem, huh? I'm just some great fucking savior."

Dillen reels around and glares at Brom. "You do what you want, Brom. Gonna do it anyway no matter what anybody says. But you can either piss or get off the pot. As for me... I'm fucking tired of waiting on this sept to do something." He turns and keeps walking towards the bawn.

Kenneth reels back mentally for a moment. Then a full on snarl issues from the Shadow Lord, and his fist balls up, winds back and pitches forth right for the Get halfmoon's thick jaw.

Wham! Brom gets hit in the jaw as his eyes were too busy staring at Dillen. Jerking his head over, his eyes grow wild as he takes a looming step towards him, then hisses out with a hard breath. He stares at the Lord for a moment, then looks back to the Skald as he continues off, then throws his hands up in the air.

"Dillen!" Kenneth sharply barks out, not taking his eyes off of Brom's even as the Forsetti gets closer. "Don't leave yet." To Brom, he snarls. "You're a /real/ piece of work you know that? You come in on your high horse from some place out in the middle of podunk nowhere where they ain't got a fuckin' elevator to credit, talkin' big and beatin' down on every single lowlife you come across. You're fuckin' lucky no one's popped a cap in you, and not one of the regular kinds. You talk about bein' big and makin' big stinks, wagin' wars and takin' territory, but what do you do when you gotta face down with a fuckin' guard dog?" Kenneth lets the question hang. "You want to off him? So do a lot of people. So get in fuckin' line, or push your way to the front! Fuckin'... Fuck!" The Shadow Lord has worked himself into an outright tirade at Brom's face, and bystanders are staring now, slack jawed.

Dillen turns back and looks at Kenneth. His eyes go between Brom and the Lord and a smile cannot help but grow across his face. He slowly walks back over and stands by Kenneth, looking to Brom. "Fish or cut bait, man." He says, shrugging his shoulders and looking to the form of Brom.

"You have no clue what is going on in /my/ head, Kenneth." Brom says with a snarl in his throat. "I come from a savage world where everything was cut and dry. It was easy because it was /tradition./ It was the right way. Here, its disorganized, uneducated. Yes I want to off him, I want to off a number of people, but if he has ranked support than why fucking bother?" He rumbles in a deep tone. "I go after him, Seeker steps in and throats my ass. Lot of good I'm to you then, huh?"

"Wait. Hold on here... I think we need to head home." Dillen finally begins to see the people that are watching.

"Fuck the Tradition!" Kenneth bursts out like the mouth of a shotgun going off, clearly unheeding of the listeners. Thea inside, has stopped cutting hair on one brave customer who thought she could get in and out in a few minutes. "Fuck the ranks! Challenge! Fuckin' Fight like the fuckin' soldier you're supposed to be! Who the fuck cares if you went down by some skinny ass NBA wannabe? Lucas and I didn't take shit from Jarred, and he did what we had to do! He fuckin' took charge." Kenneth storms in his eyes, tone rumbling out and cracking the air like lightning. "If /you/ don't do it, then /I/ will do it. I'm fuckin' sick of this two-faced backwards I'll back you up but wait no I'm leaving BULLSHIT."

"FINE!" Brom roars out as he storms past them, heading down the sidewalk. "Fucking fine then. If that's what you want out of me an that is what you'll fucking get. If I get killed over this shit, I'm haunting your ass." He says. "Now go finish your hair cut."

Dillen looks between Kenneth and Brom, a little stunned. He'd like to say Did I miss something or did you just grow your balls back? but he decides on the better part of valor to say, "Good job, man. That was fucking awesome."

Kenneth is panting hard, trying to keep himself from the Beast that can be seen caged behind his void-black gaze. "Honorable surrender!" the Shadow Lord snaps out, his final two words echoing and garbled in the aftermath only by the sound of a passing car. "You fuckin' get killed, and I'll fuckin' write a note to Lucas, stick it in a handbasket and shove it up White Bear's ass for you."

The pair of packmates get the one finger salute as Brom continues to lumber on, which probably means that 'he's OK' now. Turning, he heads right into the home improvement store with a murderous grin upon his face, reaching for his wallet. Swish. The doors close behind him.

Dillen yells out, "Get me one too!!"

Kenneth abruptly thunks back against the salon window, hand coming up to his head to grasp its side as he pants in short, quick breathes. It seems like forever before he lowers his hand, and looks up to the sky. Wordlessly, the Shadow Lord peels himself off the window, glances fleetingly to Dillen, and then turns to step into the salon once more. The halfmoon's pace is slow and tired, and is stopped suddenly with the sight of the girl in his chair. Thea can only smile nervously now.

Dillen stands and looks to the window. "Psst. Ken. You might want to go finish that haircut." He nods his head towards the window, "She's checking you out again."

Kenneth looks back behind him at Dillen, expression a range of responses from a blip of residual anger to annoyance to just plain resolution. Here the halfmoon gives invisible ground, and he pulls the door open again to slip back into the salon. Walking up to Thea and the girl in the chair who looks infinitely More nervous than the spikeyheaded stylist, Kenneth looks from one to the other and comments monotonely, "I'll wait in the waiting area, 'til you're done." Then, he turns around, ignoring all stares, and seats himself neatly in a chair. The 'herd' once more seems to calm, as the predator doesn't look like it's on the hunt.

Dillen slips in as well, "Ladies." He says, tipping an imaginary hat. He slides into a chair and looks about. He finds his drink from earlier and picks it up, sipping from it like nothing happened.

Kenneth picks up a random hair magazine again and browses through it, his own Coke seemingly forgotten atop the mirror counter with Thea's unopened can as well. Thea casts a couple of glances over to her half-finished job on Kenneth, sighs softly and gets back to work on her current customer. No chit-chatty going ons seem to go above a low murmur, drowned out by the light music coming from the ceiling speakers at the corners. As Dillen sits, Kenneth sighs, more to himself than any gesture of conversation to the Get beside him.

Dillen turns his head to the side and quickly cracks the tense muscles inside making a loud popping sound. Then he looks back to a magazine.

Things seem to go on this way for the next five minutes, with the sounds of buzzing electric razors and scissors, hair dryers and perm chairs along with running water dominating the atmosphere. The more time passes, the more people start daring to talk again, and within 15 minutes the place is just as chatty as before, is only a touch subdued. The whole time, Kenneth sits there and looks like he's staring at this full page ad for a silver watch. The page hasn't turned once. Then, as he seems to fade further out of reality, Thea's voice calls out to him. "Kenneth?" Thea brushes off the chair with a duster, and the girl she serviced is taking off the poncho and brushing off her own clothes with another. The Shadow Lord looks back up and over, caught in a moment offguard.

Dillen has, by this point, gone back to being behind a paper. He looks to Kenneth, hidden, "Ken, go on man. Stand and walk over there." He grins at the other, chuckling and having a good natured moment with a friend.

Kenneth snaps out of his funk, and flips the magazine closed with a short nod to the Get before he gets up from his chair. Another worker mans the cashier, taking care of the girl who goes to pay. As Kenneth passes by her, the girl can't help but look a second time at the odd shaped half-head that the halfmoon has. As the Shadow Lord approaches Thea, he almost seems... apologetic. "Sorry," he says to the punk chick. "Friends get... a little rowdy sometimes," he adds, half-gritting his teeth. The halfmoon sits again in the bigger haircutting chair. Thea looks almost cautious at first to swing the red poncho over the Shadow Lord, but does so anyway, tying it neatly at the back with the velcro strap. "It's alright hon," she tells him. "Happens all the time in this neighborhood really." Ok, maybe that's a lie. "Who's your friend over there?" she asks him, looking towards Dillen. "Uh? Oh. Dillen." "Dillen? Hm. He's kind of cute." "..." The Shadow Lord looks at Thea via the mirror, and she leans down to whisper something to him that makes the youthful halfmoon go just a level stiffer.

Dillen cannot hear the conversation and raises a brow as she leans in to whisper into Kenneth's ear. "Way to go man..." He mutters under his breath.

Thea chuckles softly, her tongue piercing glinting as that chuckle works itself to a laugh, and she picks up the scissors and sprays the Shadow Lord a few times with the water bottle. The hair cut proceeds though, with Kenneth seemingly gained an extra pink tint, and Thea smugly snipping away, stopping occassionally to compare lengths and check out Kenneth in the mirror. Kenneth's hair takes considerably less time to fix than the previous girl's, and less than 10 minutes later Thea puts down the fine tooth comb and leans on the back of the chair. "How's that?" She offers the Shadow Lord a look at the back of his head by reflecting off of a smaller mirror. "... ... It's good." Thea nods once, and puts the mirror back down on the rolling hair drawer before brushing off the halfmoon with her hand first. Then she whips the poncho off of him in one fell swoop, taking a step back to admire her work before turning to head to the cashier counter. Kenneth does a few more last minute brushings, and he gets up to walk over as well. The halfmoon doesn't forget about the Cokes.

Dillen folds the paper up and gets to his feet. "Need to go by the hardware store, man." He looks to Kenneth and points towards the doorway.

"That'll be ten bucks, for the trim," Thea tells the halfmoon, who in turn fishes in his pocket for the cash. He looks at Dillen when the Get speaks up, noting with an ignorant kind of reply, "Be right with you." The Shadow Lord hands her a twenty, and Thea rings up for change.

Dillen comes up to the counter and shoves his hands down and into his pockets. "Nice cut. Maybe when I finally decide, will come here."

Kenneth has his hand out to receive his change, and Thea gives it to him, but at the same time suddenly steps in close. Before the Shadow Lord can move, the girl plants a quick peck on his cheek, pats the other side with her hand and winks at Dillen. "Come back soon," she tells the two, before moving for the back part of the salon again. Some of the hair stylists look at each other with knowing smirks and smiles, others holding it in as they continue their jobs. Kenneth burns just over his cheekbones, and he stalks out of the salon not even bothering to check his change.

Dillen just looks a little confused and raises a brow. He walks out following Kenneth. "Dude, she gave you a kiss. Why did you storm out like that?" He thumbs his thumb back towards the door. "Get her number at all?"

Kenneth is a good few feet away out of view of the salon window before he slows to a stop in front of the hardware store that Brom entered. As Dillen catches up, he clears his throat and glances back to the Get. "I didn't," he insists, not exactly pissed, though not exactly pleased either. The Shadow Lord's hand clutches the ten, and in it also as he discovers, is a small hot neon red postit with numbers on it. Kenneth stares at this number for a little bit, lost on what to do with it.

"What did she whisper to you?" Dillen says as he sees the postit. "Her number?" He gives a grin and looks at the hardware door. "Let's go get a toy." As he pushes the door open and enters the store.

Kenneth quickly clenches his fist after, and stuff both the bill and the postit into his pocket. "She didn't say anything," he outright lies, free hand sweeping through the now shorter cut but rather feature-accentuating hair. As Dillen talks about toys, the Shadow Lord grits his teeth a touch tighter, sucking in a breath before entering after.

"Bullshit." Dillen walks down an aisle. "She said something. You tensed up like an asshole making a diamond out of coal." He looks about, fist at some chain.
Kenneth busies himself with looking at some other length of chain, not exactly focusing on hardware right now. "It was Nothing," he insists, unwilling to bend with the verbal jab.

"Okay. Okay. Whatever, man." As Dillen keeps moving down the aisle. He arrives at the gardening tools. "Now this is more like it." He grins.

Kenneth rubs at the cheek where he was kissed, wiping off the minor remnants of no-fade lipstick and liner left behind. But still, the scent of her mild perfume lingers, somehow overpowering the macho scents of metal and wood, grease and rust. "What are you looking for anyway? Shadow's End doesn't have a freakin' Garden."

Dillen looks to Kenneth and grins. "Vengeance." As his hand finds it's way to the polished walnut of a large axe, with a menacing chopping head. "And here she is..." he grins, lifting the axe and testing the weight of it.

Kenneth looks at first, puzzled with the Get's reply. Then as the galliard picks out his choice of weapon, the Shadow Lord looks the axe up and down. "Three guesses to what's the first time you whet the blade with huh," he utters, turning around to walk a bit further down, scanning the various sharp tools for digging into dirt, and chopping wood. "Fuckin' White Bear," he mutters lowly, the words not loud enough to make it down the end of the aisle.

"If nothing else, will need them for the greenhouse." Dillen tests the axe a little more. "Find something that is you. Brom has his sledge, I will have this." He turns to Kenneth. "Find a knife. Something that suits you."

Kenneth sports a new haircut, significantly shortened by at least 2-3 inches from the shag that it was before. The halfmoon is still brushing off some remaining bits of hair clippings from his black shirt, checking out the home and gardening section. "Yeah /right/. We're gonna walk outta here with an axe and a knife." He looks around, running his hand around some chain.

Making his way down one aisle is Brom, carrying what appears to be a large hack saw in one hand, and a long bladed axe in the other. Customer's give him a wide berth as he lumbers on.

"Two kids, looking for summer work. Mowing yards and shit. Need the knife for opening bags of mulch. Sure as hell gonna let us out with them." Dillen looks to Kenneth with a smile, carrying a axe and looking at Brom. "Well. Find the supplies you need?"

Kenneth looks dubious still, though Brom's approach is noted with a narrowed gaze. The Shadow Lord moves off to one side, checking out hatchets with not all that big an interest.

Brom twirls the axe around in his hand as he heads to the pair, letting out a breath. "Whatcha buying that for?" He asks curiously, looking visibly more calm.

"For the hell of it." Dillen looks at Brom. "For practice. Cutting down stuff to get stronger." He hefts it up onto his shoulder. "For Vengeance."

Kenneth flares his nostrils as he breathes out, still examining a large coil of chicken wire. "Big axe like that won't do any good against leeches movin' faster'n you," he notes to Dillen. The Shadow Lord's eyes swing over to the aisle visible through the merchandise though, and he makes his way down a ways, turns and heads back down the other side to look at various hardware.

Growing silent, Brom nods his head a bit, then puts his stuff in a shopping cart he snags away from an old lady who walks too far down her aisle.

"Then you use it until it becomes no longer needed." Dillen remarks to Kenneth, moving down the aisle a little more, looking at the various items for destruction.

"So much for subtlety," Kenneth mutters as he spots Brom snagging the old lady's cart. She likely won't remember where the heck she put it anyway, and go off to bug an employee about her disappearing shopping cart. The Shadow Lord moves down the aisle on the opposite side until he comes to a bunch of saws, but just as easily disregards them. Then he comes to a nailguns section, and pauses for a good, long time.

Dillen comes up behind Kenneth and chuckles. "Oh man. Now those are some supreme instruments. Can they work without a cord?" He looks at the wall with wonderment.

Kenneth nods slightly, looking at some of the wireless battery powered models. "Yea," he utters quietly, "but pricetag's off my budget. Wouldn't even afford ammo for it." The Shadow Lord moves off, checking out some other things here and there, nuts, bolts, moving into woodworking.

[So the Get go and purchase some stuff from our St. Claire Hardware, and Kenneth has a new haircut. And a phone number.]