3/13/2006

09:12 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Currently the moon is in the waxing Full Moon phase (95% full).
It is currently 21:03 Pacific Time on Mon Mar 13 2006.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 46 degrees Fahrenheit (7 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southeast at 7 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.75 and falling, and the relative humidity is 49 percent. The dewpoint is 28 degrees Fahrenheit (-2 degrees Celsius.)

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

Dillen is laying back on a weight bench lifting dumbbells into the air. With each lift he blows out a long and hard breath.

The lift rumbles and sounds with movement. Soon there's an indication that the car is coming downstairs, and it stops at the bottom level. Who else appears but the Shadow Lord, bag slung across his chest. He's in the middle of composing himself, hand running through his hair, when the doors open rather quickly. He walks in about a couple paces, and the sound of the gym weights being used stops him.

Dillen looks over to the noise and lets the weights down to the ground. "Hey Kenneth. How goes?" The Galliard reaches for a towel and mops off his face while giving a wide smile.

Kenneth doesn't return the smile, though his lips move in a tightening measure. "S'fine," he replies curtly. Black eyes roam about somewhat aimlessly, and partly in distraction. "Moon's full," he notes as his excuse.

Dillen roams the towel around his face once more. "Need a place to stay? Have at it. Nobody really uses this place anymore." He gives a shrug of his shoulders. "Hey... Can I talk to you about something?"

"This was Signe's place, wasn't it?" Kenneth asks, his eyes turning back to the galliard at the singermoon's question. The expectant pause leads to silent invitation for the Get to go first.

"Yeah. It was. Until she took off a while back. Who knows." Dillen regards the Lord for a moment before he says, "Heard you have been having some dreams. Everything okay? What's happening?" He asks out of genuine concern, no mocking tone or anything.

Kenneth frowns in suspicion. "What're you talkin' about? I told you I was fine, don't got any dreams," he grates back, taking steps away from his spot in front of the elevator to prowl around the apartment. To put some distance between him and the Get. Classic avoidance. Typical Kenneth.

Dillen runs a hand through his hair. "I know you Kenneth. Stacey told me. She's worried about you. Let me know what is happening with you. Let me help if I can. Not gonna kill you."

The mention of the Child makes him pause. It's not a very long pause, but significant anyway. "She's always worried about something," Kenneth mutters, before his voice gets louder. "And what the hell did she tell you?"

"That you were having really disturbing dreams." Dillen shrugs. "Wanna talk?"

"How would /she/ know what /I/ dream about?" Kenneth asks rather demandingly, sharper than his usually colder, neutral tones. Must've struck a chord. He seems to realize it, as the gritting teeth forcibly relax a touch, and he turns his eyes upon the black screen of the old TV.

"Kenneth. Tell me what is going on." Dillen looks after the Lord. "Let me in there, man. Can't help if you don't. It matters in your head. Shit like that, confuses the mind. Gotta get it cleared out. Talk to me."

Kenneth shakes his head. "Tch... you wouldn't get it anyway. Now that you're Mister Popular," the Shadow Lord responds, still looking at the empty television set.

"Mister Popular? No I'm not." Dillen laughs at the prospect. "What makes you think that?" He stands to pull off his t-shirt and then pull on a clean one. "Besides. What matters to me is pack and family. That's all right now. Talk." He grins and then kids, "Before I bash your face in."

Kenneth whirls around, stance turned combat defensive, an aggressive clench of his teeth showing. It's another few seconds after, that he shakes his head again and forces an ease of the proverbial trigger button. "Leave me alone," he growls out, working his way out of the tennis bag strap and turning to look towards the darker shadowed spots of the basement apartment.

Dillen folds his arms across his chest. He watches the Lord for a long moment before his answer comes, "No. Talk. Now."

"I don't got nothin' to say," Kenneth hisses back, without so much as a pause to contemplate the retort.

"Kenneth. Tell me of the dreams. There may be more in them than just disturbance. Tell me, man." Dillen still stands in the middle of the room, looking at his packmate.

Kenneth shoots back a look over his shoulder. "Why should I? What could you /possibly/ do for me that could do anything to help? Spare yourself the trouble, alright? Last thing I need on my conscience is to owe you anything."

"You don't owe me shit. I don't owe you shit." Dillen shakes his head and walks over to sit down in a chair. "Doesn't stop me from trying to help."

"Why do you care so damn much?" Kenneth spits back, finally turning around and glaring at the galliard. "What, afraid I'll end up like Lucas? Think I'll turn into some evil bastard Spiral Dancer or something if you don't have an eye on me at all times?" The grip on his bag strap tightens. "Let's get one thing straight. I Don't Need You."

Dillen leans back in the seat. "Kenneth. Why do you think I want something out of this? I want to make the pack stronger. I give a shit about you, man. Why do you have such a problem with that? I want to help make you great. I want to tell stories about you. But I will tell you straight out... I don't want to go into battle with you unless you have it in here." Dillen taps the side of his head. "I don't think you are gonna turn out like Lucas. Never have. Just looking out for you."

"The Hell you do!" Kenneth snaps, knuckles white. "What the hell do you mean by that, huh?" He mimics the tap on the side of his own head. "Think I'm crazy? That it? Maybe I am. Maybe I'll be a /hundred/ times worse than Lucas was."

Dillen raises a brow at this. "I mean if you have something on your mind, you might get distracted. Sheesh."

Kenneth tosses the bag aside, taking a step towards the galliard. "I /never/ get distracted in a fight. Never." His eyes blaze behind the burning snarl of his tone.

Dillen looks him in the eyes. "Maybe not. But something is on your mind. Something that you are only working out in dreams. You can either accept my help or keep on with this act. Frankly, I'm tired of the act. Tired of putting myself out for you to maybe see as an ally. Nope. You have this belief that what happened to Lucas will happen to you. It's only a matter of time. Well. If I have something to say about it... No way in hell am I gonna let you go down that path. You are too good for it. Too good of a fighter. Too good of a philodox. Too good of a fucking garou. But you won't give yourself the chance to excel. It's always that you are in LUcas' shadow. Step out and prove you are the man I know you are."

"Too good my ass," Kenneth snorts, his Rage at least ebbing back before the next wave comes crashing in. "And I am not in Lucas' shadow. He's fuckin' dead, burned and buried." The halfmoon turns around, looking on the floor for his bag and bending down to swipe it up. The action stops halfway as his movement brings the twin gold rings looped around his neck within range of his eyes.

"You do live in that shadow. You fight it every day in your eyes and in other's eyes. Not mine, though. I've seen you for what you are. So has stacey. Kenneth, you are so intent of pushing people away that give a damn and trying so hard to get recognition so that people will give you that respect you so badly want... That you forget that there are people who are already giving it to you. Me, Kevin, Stacey. Because we know what you can do. But us, you push away because you don't want friends. Having a friend means you have to care again..." Then Dillen's voice sobers, "Like you cared about Lucas."

Kenneth continues to stare at the pair of gold rings, glimmering there on his wrist, bound by the ball chain looping through the fingerholes. Then he jerks himself up straight, ignoring the clinking of the jewelry. "Lucas was just as backstabbing as the rest of 'em," he snaps out, tone tight. "He was in on the plot. Jarred /told/ him to /kill/ me on our Rite of Passage - did he ever tell you that?" The look in his eyes gets colder. "Some fuckin' friend!"

"No. You didn't tell me that." Dillen takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. "Kenneth. Tell me the dreams. Tell me what makes you rage so hard."

"No. You're not... I'm not a fuckin' headcase!" Kenneth rejects, finally sweeping the bag up to his shoulder and walking so fast towards the elevator door that he just verges on sprinting to it. Good thing the lift is still on the bottom level, as he pushes the call button and the door opens. He's in before the doorway is even halfway there, and immediately he's pushing for the close door button as well. As the door jerks to a halt and starts back to close, in the disappearing view between them, the Shadow Lord can be seen staring with growing rancor at the Get on the seat. Then the eye contact is cut off by cold metal, and the sound of the elevator being pulled up to the upper floors overcomes the silence.

Dillen scrubs his hands across his face and curses under his breath.

[Later on...]

Currently the moon is in the waxing Full Moon phase (95% full).
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 43 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius). The wind is calm today. The barometric pressure reading is 29.74 and falling, and the relative humidity is 75 percent. The dewpoint is 36 degrees Fahrenheit (2 degrees Celsius.)

Bawn: Foothills of the Mountains(#2986RA)
The hills that rise here are roughened by the frequent rains, and rocky places show through the grasses and shrubs that grown in the clearings. Trees grow as often from shallow soil on rocky hillocks as from real loam. Occassional boulders show through like the bones of ancient creatures, covered with spreading patches of moss and lichen. The land is rough, and the weight of the ancient hills gives the place a chilling quality. The stones seem to resent intrusion.
No visible delimiter marks the eastern edge of the Bawn, only scent-marks and occasional scratches on trees. To the west, the hills become softer and the covering forest thicker, while to the east, the rocky slopes of the foothills become mountainous in truth, and the tree cover thins. I-90 to the north and the railroad to the south provide the remaining edges to this region.
Contents:
Stacey
Obvious exits:
Two Eagles Bluff  Silent Valley  South  North  East  Thunder Cave  West  

After a hard and desperate flight through the city and into the woods, Kenneth is still on the run. Somewhere along the way, his tennis bag was shed. Miles away and still going, his legs pump hard against the ground as he seeks to get away. Almost directionlessly, he continues on until he stumbles on some of the rocky surface of the foothills and falls to a side. He pants hard, feeling a bruise starting to form on the side of his chest.

The young Walks-Middle is not far from where Kenneth falls, heading further into the forest. Whispers of the Lord's stumbling reaches her ears, and she starts in his direction, not yet knowing who is up ahead, keeping low to the ground and quiet as she approaches.

Slowly, the Shadow Lord regains his breath and he rolls to a side, curled up on the cold surface of the rocks before pushing himself up. Kenneth wipes with the back of his hand what dirt might have gotten on him as a result of the fall, likely smearing more than intended. He doesn't yet see or hear anything of the ahroun, though he sits out in the open, surrounded by rock and tree in every direction.

No more than a glance, a faint scent, the barest trace of the Shadow Lord... And Walk-Middle bursts forth from the woods into the small opening, barrelling toward Kenneth without warning. Yet, there is some wariness within the Child, perhaps the tension of the large moon, as she pulls back at the last moment, skidding to a halt within a few feet of him. Far-Cry! she chuffs with joy and relief.

Far from noticing the Child at first, Kenneth has his eyes closed when the ahroun breaks through the trees and sees him for the first time in weeks. When he does become aware, though, his reaction is far from the usual greeting. He jerks up, scrambles up, to his feet and backs away from the fullmoon. The way he looks at her, it's like he were cornered in a white room. Like a bug underneath the magnifying glass. "Don't," he warns, voice breaking as he fights down an urge. Wild eyes jerk from one side to another, looking for an escape.

Eyes widen at the Shadow Lord's word, and Walks-Middle seems to droop, tail lowering and ears flattening. She flinches as though he'd struck at her and backs up a few steps, looking lost as she offers, I am only happy to see you.

Underneath his foot, the rocks break off and roll to a side, causing a loosening of the Shadow Lord's footing. Though he wobbles, he keeps his balance just barely, but the philodox is in no real mindset to speak anything else coherently. Given the opportunity presented by the ahroun's backing up, the philodox turns with a violent spin and bolts away from the ahroun, down the small foothill.

Leaping forward with a whine, Walks-Middle chuffs, Wait! She hurriedly shifts up into her birth form. "Kenneth! Please, wait!" she calls as she tries to follow, keeping a bit of distance between them. "I just..." she finishes lamely, "wanted to say hi."

In due time, Kenneth slows to a halt and stops. He's far from the Child, though, nowhere near hearing distance for weak homid ears. The halfmoon falls forward onto a knee, clutching at his bruised side from the earlier fall. Warily though, he looks behind him over the rocks and through the trees, to see if he's being pursued.

"Damn." Stacey slows as well, kicking at a small rock. "Figures." She continues walking forward, yet with less aim, scowling at the forest's floor.

Racing around in the dark never was a good idea, and Kenneth doesn't get up from his fall. Panting still, he sucks in a breath and yells out loud, "This really isn't funny! Wake the fuck up!" It's directed to himself, obviously, as he shudders with conflicting inner forces. "Wake up. Wake up. Wake UP, damnit!"

Turning toward the sound of Kenneth's voice, Stacey raises a brow. She lets out a breath and then starts toward the Shadow Lord, approaching cautiously.

Yanking on the thin ball chain around his neck, the Shadow Lord pulls, but it doesn't break. He pulls once more to futile endeavors, as the strength in him seems to wane away. He seems to have forgotten the presence of the Child coming towards him, as he looks back down to the grass with his back to her. Collapsing back to a sit, he hunches over himself and sucks in breath and after breath. If it weren't for the lack of light, it would be rather blatant to see the Shadow Lord on the verge of crying.

Getting nearer to where Kenneth sits, Stacey hesitates as she leans against a tree. After a moment of listening in disturbed silence, she steps forward, purposefully stepping on a dry twig. "Kenneth..."

Hoarsely, the philodox's voice responds. "H-Hey..." A brief pause between quiet sniffs and quick sucks of his breath after, Kenneth forces himself to take a longer, deeper breath despite the pain in his side. "You're... not supposed to be off the bawn," he adds.

Stacey smiles in the dim light. "I haven't left. Larger than people think." She slides down to sit on the ground, hugging her knees. "Sorry if... I should know better than to startle people on the full moon."

Not even taking a moment to look at her, Kenneth lapses into a silence in as much as the silence will take his struggled, ill-composed breathing. "I'm not supposed to be here, then," he replies after that long quiet.

The Child turns her head to scan the woods to her left, rather quiet herself. "Woods are quieter. Good for getting away from the scab and people." She sighs, resting her chin on a knee. "Can be lonely, though."

Hands balling up into fists, the Shadow Lord grimaces at the words. "I can handle 'lonely'," he insists, the stubbornness and anger creeping up like the bile in his throat. "Done it long enough."

Holding in her breath after hearing Kenneth's tone, Stacey tenses. She turns her head to the left again, tangled hair casting even darker shadows across her face. There's a long silence before the Child says, barely audibly, "I can't."

"That's your weakness," Kenneth hisses between his clenched teeth, with his words wavering unclearly between who they're directed to. There're more words, but they're mumbled too quietly to make out beyond a few keywords, like 'friend', 'Lucas', and 'fucked up'.

"Perhaps," Stacey manages after another tense moment, then falls silent as the other mumbles, frowning at what words she does catch. "Did... did something happen?"

"No," Kenneth answers a little too loudly after he stops muttering to himself. "Nothin'." He lies, and it's obvious, but also clearly half-hearted in the effort to cover it up. "I.." He cuts off, swallowing down. "You sent Dillen after me."

Even the darkness can't hide Stacey's guilt as she squirms uneasily. "Yeah... I did. I didn't know how else to reach you and... I was worried. I kept..." She breaks off, frowning. "Probably shouldn't have."

"Even you," Kenneth says, quiet as a whisper. But there's a hint of malice in it. "Why? Why do you worry so much?" He gets progressively louder, pushing against the ground, pushing himself up. "Why do you care? You have your life, your ... position, your power. Why do you give a damn!?" For the first time, he looks at the ahroun of his own volition, stepping back and away from the girl. "You have your... Your purpose."

Exhaling sharply, Stacey scrambles to her feet as well. "Forget that!" she says, slicing her hand through the air in a dismissive gesture. "A position I gained because the others fled or died? Why the hell would that replace friendship? I'd give it all up in a second to have my tribe back again." She sighs. "I don't know what Dillen said to you, but I... I was going crazy, okay? I didn't know what else to do."

"Oh, and that's going to make it all better? You send my alpha to give me a little pep talk, thinking it'll be alright?" Kenneth snaps, throat constricting. "Why would /you/ be going crazy when all you do out here is run around the bawn like some goddamn car on a Hot Wheels track!"

Keeping a relatively neutral expression, even though the sides of her mouth twitch in the beginnings of a scowl, Stacey stuffs her hands into her pockets before they can form into fists. "I did /not/ send him to give you a pep talk. I just wanted him to find you and let you know I wanted to talk. And to tell him that as Alpha and Galliard /he/ should be telling stories that show your honor and wisdom." She huffs out a breath, rolling her shoulders back. "As to crazy... You'd go crazy too if you kept slipping into Nightmares while on patrol!"

Loosing the words looks to have triggered something deep inside the halfmoon. Kenneth takes a few steps back with an expression of confusion stumbling onto his features belatedly. "That's... why would you..." Lips pulling tight as he fails to finish, he shakes his head a few times, trying to clear it. Then he pulls himself up and blurts out, "I gotta go." He quickly turns and starts to walk off.

For now, Stacey leaves the Shadow Lord to his confusion. She frowns, a bit lost as to what caused his reaction, and then turns away, heading further into the woods.