Logfile from GarouMU.
Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous Moon phase (63% full).
It is currently 13:13 Pacific Time on Sun Aug 14 2005.

Highway 22, Railroad Crossing
The faded asphalt of the highway crosses a set of rusted old railroad tracks here, the crossing warning lights half-hidden behind the roadside trees. The tall conifers on either side of the road have begun to encroach on the shoulder of the road and the railroad. The rails are rusted and a number of the support boards are rotted, indicating that the railroad likely isn't used much any more. The underbrush beneath the pines and firs is thick, blocking any view further into the woods.
Highway 22 runs southeast toward the National Park, and heads back toward Kent Crossing to the northwest. The railroad runs eastward and westward through the woods, disappearing almost immediately into the trees.
Contents:
Fang(#3140J)
Obvious exits:
East on the Tracks  Northwest on the Tracks  North  Southeast  

It rained an hour ago, and the leaves still run wet with drippings. Vapor pushes off the damp soil, turning the woods to a sea of fog. The abandoned buildings rise strange and gloomy from it, and the sharp trees besides. Wet, licking his nose, Stands-in-the-rain emerges from the dewy fronds of a fernbrake.

Curled up right upon the railroad tracks, Dagger's-Edge is resting. Sleep is relative, given the way his ears and limbs twitch periodically. His fur is damp as well, though it doesn't seem to wake him. The philodox breathes easy, unaware of the other Shadow Lord.

The ahroun leaves him be. Other than a sniffing and a shake of waterdrops, Stands-in-the-rain does no more to him. The twitch of ear and long stare betray his interest, and he seems satisfied to find no one else about. He'll return in a half-hour's time, a limp hare in his teeth.

And half an hour later, the halfmoon is no longer in the area. Tracks and scent lead away from the spot on the railroad, headed west and northward, circling towards the southern edges of the bawn it seems. Only when the wind seems to push part of the fog off to a side, does the grey curtain sweep aside and reveal Edge with nothing in his jaws, just the small scent of mouse and blood accompanying him. The young Lord stops, nostrils flaring with the scent of rabbit and the ahroun. Silence is his initial greeting towards the other Shadow Lord.

[look Stands-in-rain]
A timberwolf male in his prime, of strong and resolute build. He is heavy in the forequarters, thick-chested, with a long and supple neck. Scars notch his ears and show with tougher gray tissue where his fur is thinned. At a distance he appears solid black, but up close-- too close-- the mixed composition of his coat shows in variegated layers of dark and rainy grays. Nevertheless the cold aura of his tribe is about him, and intelligence is in this animal gaze. His eyes are red, alert, bitterly sarcastic.

[look Dagger's-Edge]
This wolf is large, but young by appearance. A jet coat of fur, long legs and a deep chest show his health, but not lacking in some particular scars on his furred body. His countenance infrequently lights with frivolous cheer, being rather set in an intelligent, reserved attentiveness that presents itself as somehow sinister, driving home the mysteries and suspicious nature many have of the wolf. He unquestionably carries himself with as much grace and agility as he can muster, wrapped in precarious balance and proportion, but a certain quirk of his gait indicates there is something wrong with him as well. Soaked in the color of void, his coat cloaks him with darkness incarnate with hints of ashen and earthen colors streaking the fringes. Silver frosting surrounds his eyes with a lightened mask that adds to the haunting stare of his golden stare, touching down as well at the very tip of his muzzle.
This wolf, has the unmistakeable tinge of the city in his scent. He seems to have taken some care to try and cleanse himself of such things, but the tenacious Weaver has undoubtedly clung invisibly to his form.

Stands-in-rain lets the hare fall, and has no more to do with it. As he moves away he passes through the shapes, now a man, walking backward easy. "Yours," he says, "if you want it."

Dagger's-Edge perks his ears forward when he sees the hare drop. Wolf instincts kick in, and he starts towards the dropped food like a homeless man to a free meal. His nose drops to sniff the carcass, but then the halfmoon simply stands over it. Guardedly, the young wolf regards the man. Suspicion creeps up, accompanying it, hesitation. Why don't you eat it yourself? the philodox asks, head quirking.

Dwight tilts his head, and a wing of black hair falls over his blue, blue eyes. "Cause I poisoned it, with my Shadow Lord poison," he replies, matter of fact, a smile crossing the livid purple scars on his face.

Dagger's-Edge growls, ears laying back showing that he doesn't appreciate the statement. Pointedly though, he stomps a paw on the rabbit and leans his head down to tear out a large chunk of it, wolfing down the food literally. He continues to eat until a fair portion of the hare is gone. Poison or no, the philodox fills his belly until he doesn't hunger anymore, and then sits with a lick of his muzzle. Golden eyes swing back up to the ahroun, and once more regard him. Edge lets the silence fill the space between them again.

[look Dwight]
A hair's breadth from thirty, Dwight's already too old for this shit. He cuts a tall but slouchy figure, broad-shouldered, all muscle beneath the wifebeater, with slim hips in his raggedy jeans. He has got a graceless, staggery sort of sideways walk, like a door that's been slammed so much it just drifts on the hinges. Livid scars are dragged into his arms, and in some places, the black hairs got scorched right off, skin wrinkled from old burns.
Hard times are stamped upon his face. His nose got broke before his first change, and he's been hit in the head so many times that his jaw's slightly off, gives him this smirk. A lateral scar across the bridge of his nose. Some others get reduced by the shadow of stubble over his face. He's got curly dark hair, seems solid black from a glance or when sweat's thick in it, and it's a little long, a little shaggy. Electric blue eyes, hell-yes intense.
If he weren't so goddamn nasty, his voice would be his best feature: screamed-raw rough and scorched by years of hard liquor, with a hint of deep south.

"There you go, good as a peanut butter jelly sandwich." Dwight nods at him, approvingly. "So, I'm David Kernahan, called Dwight, or Stands-in-the-rain. First rank, and a big moon. From Blind Bluff in Montana, and a bunch of other places. I'll be like a big brother to you, or one a'those crazy uncles-- if you're good, and if you don't do any bullshit. From what I hear though, I think you had enough of bullshit. Am I right?"

Dagger's-Edge licks away at his muzzle until he's sure the majority of the blood is gone, and then he simply shifts back to his breed form regardless of what redness would transfer. The philodox remains sitting, generally damp all around and uncaring of it. "Kenneth Saitou-Sardelis, Dagger's-Edge, cliath philodox." He looks off momentarily, a somewhat dirty hand smearing off some blood left on his cheek. "And you aren't my brother, or my uncle." He looks directly back at the ahroun this time, lips tightening.

"Don't sass me, junior." Dwight rests his back against a pine. "Like I said.. I don't stand for bullshit. I can't say it enough, or earlier on. I'm a frank, up-front kind of man. And I can afford to be. So I like to just lay it out flat." His arms fold, huge, but burnt, with reddened, melty scarflesh where no hair grows. "Course we could play games, if you wanted, but I'd rather not blow smoke up yer ass."

Kenneth darkens in expression, standing up from his spot on the ground and brushing off. "I don't give bullshit, or play stupid games. But you're /not/ my brother, or my uncle, or anything else but another cliath, another Shadow Lord, and another asshole who's rolled into town and thought he could set up shop and blend in easy."

"Not just any old asshole, but a bigger, stronger, wiser asshole than you, or Richard Cutter." Dwight smiles at him, mostly in his eyes, bracketed by laugh-lines. "We got work to do."

Kenneth snorts, turning from looking at the ahroun, hand swiping at his cheek again. "Older an' fatter too," the philodox mutters near inaudibly.

"Seem to recall tellin you I didn't much like bullshit," the ahroun muses, quiet a moment, looking thoughtful, his tongue a bump in his cheek. "And know what? I am detecting a certain, distinct aroma just now." '

Kenneth whips his head back around, hand at his side curling into a fist. He glares at the ahroun for a time, but he doesn't retort. He doesn't say anything, instead turning and stalking off, following the train tracks west away from the other Shadow Lord.

"You take that teen angst shit out in the woods," Dwight calls after him, pitching his deep voice to follow. "And you -bury it-. Come back when you're ready to work."

Kenneth lifts a finger - the middle one, turned to point behind him. It's there for but a moment and disappears as his hands drop to his side. He keeps walking, punching a tree with that very hand as he passes it by.

[later, after a long and angsty walk that would put wannabe goths to shame...]

Student Union: Commons
The Commons of the Union is open 24 hours a day to the students and serves as commissary, cafeteria, and study area, if you don't mind things being a bit louder than the Sun Room. One third of the Commons proper is devoted to the Union-run food service, The Skillet, which is only open from 6 a.m. through 9 p.m.. Vending machines pick up the slack, lining the opposite wall, and include a plethora of drinks from milk to soda and snacks from candy bars up to small microwavable meals, which can be heated using one of three of the microwave ovens scattered along the row. The remainder of the area is stuffed full of 60's style formica tables and primary colored molded plastic chairs. A sign on the wall states that the maximum capacity of the room is 300 occupants.
The way back to campus is up the winding staircase then down the sidewalk. An information 'kiosk' is located just outside the doors of the commons.
Contents:
Xia
Obvious exits:
Campus  

[look Xia]
 This woman has a striking model-like figure, surrounded by her clearly unmistakable Asian nationality. Her skin is a dark tea brown with a glowing luster of her flawless skin. Dark, straight hair falls directly to her gangly shoulders. High cheek bones rest below a set of almond-shaped, spirited coffee brown irises. Her nose appears before her lush, deep rose lips. She stands slightly more than five feet tall. Her body has a supermodel slenderness that shapes the curves of her body.
  Social status seems to be clearly identifiable on this young woman's figure in regards to her clothing fashions. She wears a Neiman Marcus' Just Cavalli crinkled blouse and blue jeans. The blouse is silver with multicolor floral prints with a spread color; button front. The sleeves are three-quarter with tie cuffs. Her low-rise, boot-cut jeans are light gray wash denim. There is rhinestone detail on the sides. On her feet are a pair of silver high-heeled dress-shoes.

The Shadow Lord kin can be found milling around the Student Union catching up with a few students that she had remembered from the summer before. She is rather chatty today, although she has sucessfully completed her mission of gathering her books for classes which will be starting again soon.

Unaccompanied and unfriendly, one lone figure crosses quickly through the cafeteria, nearly blended into amongst the other college students were it not for the atmosphere that causes many to turn around, double take, or simply move away. Kenneth storms through, pushing his way right past a couple of girls waiting in line to get their burritos. "Hey watch it!" "Asshole." The teen doesn't stop, doesn't reply, and doesn't seem to care. This all comes to a halt as he pulls up behind a large crowd of people lingering near the door. He grinds his teeth in irritation, working out a path to make his way around.

Xia catches Kenneth in the corner of her eye, although the ruckus that he causes seems to be the source of drawing her attention towards him. She strides purposely in his direction and lightly taps his shoulder. "Kenneth?" she asks to his turned back.

Kenneth spins around with a wild, furious glare in his eyes and a snarl just barely past his lips. It gets shoved down almost just as quickly, slapped down with sheer will. The seconds that pass are overrun with noise of the bustling cafeteria, before the immediate distance between the two is cut with his caustic question. "What?"

Xia tilts her head to one side as she looks to the Shadow Lord calmly. She lightly touches her fingertips to his elbow, gesturing him outside. "No need to get all fussy," she says. "You do remember me, don't you?" She knows it has been awhile since she last saw him.

Recognition is not immediate. Kenneth stares a good deal longer before some semblance of acknowledgement pierces through the haze of Rage that fills the high majority of the halfmoon's view. He draws back at the touch, but at least has followed the kin far enough from the large crowds to feel a bit better, breathe a bit easier. Swallowing down a growl, he only nods to answer her question.

"Walk with me a ways, we'll talk." Xia says calmly as she opens the door and slips out with her books held in a bag. She heads off to a part of campus which is less crowded, if not completely vacant of other students readying to move back into the dorms the next week or so.

Kenneth doesn't say a word until they are a decent part away. When the kin stops, so does he, a few feet from her and turned so that he isn't looking straight at her. He doesn't seem to want to directly look at anybody, for that matter, eyes roving around.

Xia takes a seat on a bench, waving her hand towards the halfmoon to sit. "There is something that is bothering you," she says, not really asking him since she can sense it.

Kenneth looks only once directly to the kin, then jerks his gaze away. He doesn't sit. "You think?" he growls out, hand raking through his too-long hair. The teen doesn't look clean; a side of his cheek is smeared with dirt and what might be, could be, blood. He isn't injured, although he seems to bleed anger. "I shouldn't even be here. Fuckin' fat moon."

Xia turns her waist towards Kenneth and looks aside to grab a kleenex from her purse. She raises it to Kenneth's cheek to clean it off with a disgusted look on her face. "Are you going to tell me why you look like crap and are all flustered or am I going to have to ask you questions all evening?"

Kenneth jerks his head away at the nearness of the kin, a caged animal's glare directed at her at first. It's not just his face though - he simply has a lot of wear and tear in his overall appearance. "What's it to you?" he retorts, jaw tightening. He looks away again, dirtied hand coming up to smear the stain more.

"Why?" she retorts. "Can't I be caring?" She leans in close to Kenneth as she speaks to him. "If you're trying to make up for how I have treated you, then I am sorry." She shifts a little.

Kenneth turns to gaze at the kin, a flicker of hesitation, a glint of suspicion mixed into the dark expression. "... I don't know what you're talking about. You got nothing to be sorry for," the halfmoon replies, breaking his gaze off when another student lugging a red pack passes by, indignantly whining to their supposed parental unit about some comment. "Doesn't matter," he dismisses gruffly, shoving his hand into a pocket, the other pushing the long bangs away. "I didn't know you were back anyway. Not 'til Stacey said."

"Because whatever it is that you are doing to yourself, it isn't right." Xia says, looking for once concerned for Kenneth. "Whatever happened with Jarred and Lucas, let it go." Her jaw tightens for a moment. "I wouldn't have come back here if I didn't care about you and Cutter." That's only half the truth, but at least she is being honest about that most.

Kenneth fully stares at the kin a moment longer, the lack of trust slipping like a snake through the waters of his gaze. "That shit's done and over with. And I doubt Cutter..." he mutters, but doesn't finish. "I was just.. here 'cause.. the music room's open usually."

Xia looks down slightly as Kenneth looks directly towards her, afraid of what that direct connection might bring if she were to look directly up at him. "Why were you going to come all the way over here?" she asks.

Kenneth sweeps a hand through his hair again, finger catching on a knot. He tugs at it a few times before it gives. "'Cause, the music room's open," he utters in reply, eyes shifting back towards the kin. "The back room's lock doesn't work too well, so the piano in there... kind of out of tune, but, it's quiet back there." The philodox glances away quickly, the thunderstorm of anger before having blown itself out.

"In case you haven't noticed, you look like shit." Xia says in a flat tone. "Why don't you come with me, we can stop by some fast-food place, and you can take a shower in my hotel room. I'll get you some fresh clothes to wear too." she suggests.

Kenneth looks down at himself now, hands dirty, clothes fraying and worn. "Because that kind of thing takes /money/," he retorts, her words pricking him invisibly in his pride. "And 'cause living in the woods doesn't involve coin laundry." His words are bitter, but tired. The halfmoon growls frustratedly, but looks back to the kin. "Don't you have a dorm or something?"

"I have money," Xia replies and stands up. She reaches down and lightly tugs at Kenneth's hand. "Come on, let me treat you out for the evening." she replies with a little pout. "I don't have an apartment yet."

Kenneth glances down as his hand is tugged, though he provides little resistance to the gesture now. "You'll probably get one easy. Some people're always waiting until the last minute to post on Craigslist or something." The Shadow Lord shifts his gaze off to another small group of people passing by, before he simply nods slowly. "Right... well... let's not go too far west. My .. adopted parents live out there. Bill, comes 'round campus on Sundays for bible study. If they're still around.

"Alright," Xia replies. "We'll go to the hotel and I will make some calls from there." She lightly squeezes Kenneth's hand as she tugs him towards her parked TT Roadster.