endings

Billy McCann

Wed 08:40PM CST
Night or morning - she's sleeping, or attempting to sleep, fine pillowcase cool beneath her cheek, her hair spread out loose around her. The room is cast in multiple overlapping shadows, deep and grayed, city lights bleeding into the condominium from the big fancy windows, the city strewn beneath her feet like diamonds for her to walk on. Ain't no telling what wakes her, or if she was already awake or if she was in some no-man's land that's stuck itself between the two, some nightmare flatness that ain't sleeping and ain't rational, neither. Ain't no telling what drags her from whereever she is, either.

Her alarm clock bleeds into the blank blackness of the night, digital numbers, red, smeared, 3:47 with a dot in the corner to indicate A.M. There's a sound, a pop, like someone pulling a cork from a bottle of cheap dandelion wine, a moment of nothing and then a moment of something. There was nothing at her window, and now there is a lean hard shape blotting out half the city view, and now there is a smell that is not entirely pleasant in the air: acrid ash and blood. Blood beneath it all.

Arabella Eberstark

Wed 08:45PM CST
Her sleep had become troubled since her news, the loss of Tucker was a blow, that few could understand. The disappearance of the McCanns on some unnamed dangerous mission [the evasions, illusions...all torn] had layered itself upon the weary young mind. She had nightmares, that cool pillow was so cool with the drying remnants of now chilled tears. They'd been hot when they fell. She was in mourning, a grief laden state barely relieved in sleep. The dark thoughts of many kinds which had come in the wake of everything had frightened her guardians, her few remaining friends.... Silver Fang mental states being what they were, her deep depression was understood.

But there's a degree of restlessness, slender frame caught in twisted pink sheets and the thin cotton nigthgown beneath. Only breif moments when she was still, somehwta peaceful, and looked like Sleeping Beauty amongst the trappings of yuothful affluence. And into that cma eunfamilair scents... which made the dainty nose twitch, which roused groggy senses, her eyes sunk into pale shadowed hollows in her face. She wore grief well too, a watcher might note. Finally head rolled to the side and eyes cracked, taking a frowned inhale and confused...

Billy McCann

Wed 08:52PM CST
"Arabella." Her name, a hard familiar voice gone raw, meatgrinder raw. Not Miss, no, none of the damn trappings that go along with everything else. Her name and a midnight voice dragged from a hoarse and bloodied and blooded throat. They keep this part of it from girls like her, don't they? The figure doesn't move. He ain't facing out, he's been facing in all along, staring hard at her as she sleeps, the outline of her body beneath the sheets, her hand tangled, her mouth slack, the tracks of tears across her soft cheeks, flushed with sleep, wonderin' whether he's selfish to wanna wake, compromising on the distance between coming and going by staying, but out of her immediate reach. "I ain't got much time."

Arabella Eberstark

Wed 08:56PM CST
It wasn't a voice she expected to hear, in her bedroom, now... they'd layered the levels of deadly certainity on her over and over again until she'd broken into profound emotional pain. [Cursed... my care is a curse...] How everyone she cared about could so suddenly be gone tore at the carefree spirit.

"Billy?" The astonishment, and the concern which rapidly follows. She's heard similar sounds, though it was Rasputin and she nursed him back to life in a room just down the hallway from this one.

Pushing up in her bed, still mostly modest in attire, the faint scent of roses waylaid by the aroma he brought with him, of blood, of battle... she still prayed it wasn't his death too.

"I thought I wouldn't see you again... are you..." Voice breaks on the question he can likely anticipate. Please please don't leave me too... everyone leaves me, is leaving me, has left me...

Billy McCann

Wed 09:06PM CST
"I ain't here fer no more'n a minute, Arabella." His breath comes harsh and raw, each one's a fight in itself. There's something wrong with his abdominal muscles, then pulls and scream fire along his nerves each time he breathes too deep or too long. There ain't no hitch in his voice, though. He bears it like he's done born everthang else. "I just knowed I couldn't leave without sayin' somethin' ta you. Without seein' you agin."

The figure at the window doesn't move. She gets up, astonishment and concern, sleep still in the back of her throat, hair spilling around her shoulders, the sheets catching against her shoulder, then her arm, her abdomen, the little girl's nightgown, the modest neckline and her skin, luminous in the darkness.

Arabella Eberstark

Wed 09:12PM CST
Lips press together in a pained line and she's still moving. If he won't she will, and unless he has the fight left in him to stop her, she's sliding from the bed, robe and slippers nearby forgotten so its only bare limbs and scant cover of her nightgown in the soft warmth of Chicago's summer night. "You're... Oh Gaia, Billy... you can't leave me again..." It breaks in ehr voice again, mellifluous tones normally are strained with the pain coming to life once more inside. Green eyes glitter in half light and full shadows, the minefield this has made of her heart and soul livid in their reflection.

"Aurich's gone, Jaan, Rasputin, Viktor, Tucker, Jodi, your brothers... I can't lose you too..." She'd barely begun to explore the emergence of feelings along that road from friendship to more. She could vividly remember the frantic beat of her heart as he whispered poetry harshly into her ear, as he promised he'd kiss her, as they walked, talked and simply sat in silence at times.

Bare feet moving in silent pad as she crossed the room to her window and him, ghostly in the pale shade of her ngith clothes, her dark hair darker without daylight giving it dimension. "You're hurt... I've tended others who were hurt. I can find... the healers, or call Josephina..."

Billy McCann

Wed 09:29PM CST
Roses and - beneath that, beneath that manufactured fragrance, so pleasing to humans, men and women, beneath the stuff ripped from the hearts of flowers and graced softly across her skin - there's something else, as familiar and natural to her as the dark-water scent is to a deep forest pool. He breathes in deep - she can see his shoulders twist, his hard features lit suddenly by a splash of red from the next tower's private helipad, nostrils flaring, hard mouth set in a dark line - and takes in the mixture of scents that sloughs off her skin.

Healer? Josephina? The litany of her lost: he don't seem to hear any of it. He don't respond to none of it. He just stares hard at her as she crosses the darkling room, steps from pool of light to puddle of shadow, bare feet whispering across the plush nap of the expensive woolen carpet, soft as new spring grass. There's the sound of her voice like water, she's talking but he can't really hear her. He had things to say but they ain't so much in the forefront of his mind no more, though death's at the back of his throat, death's in his eyes. Death's in his eyes, and life is in hers.

He makes a noise, not so much strangled out of him as tamped down, firmed back into place, pushed deeper, and puts out a hand like he's going to push her away, the level of her shoulder - there's something dark, leaking on that hand, the broken knuckles cracked and raw, the grime and dried blood caking the blunt nails. Puts out that hand like he's going to push her away, but instead it hovers there a moment and the distance between them (he can hear his heartbeat, bloodroar, battlesense and something else loud in his ears) is measured by his reach, and then suddenly - his hand glides over her shoulder, buries in her hair and he drags her forward until she's hard against him and kisses her breathless and the distance between them ain't measure by the length of his arm but by the weave of her nightgown.

Arabella Eberstark

Wed 09:37PM CST
She'd half expected him to hold her back, the pride and distance she'd seen so often in her Silver Fang relations and friends always in the back of her memory, even beyond the hazy remnants of the Raptors. Bear their burden's alone... always alone and she was so tired of being alone. The tiny details about him were secondary things she saw, and would likely remember at another time... now was only the half surprised sound as his hand slid over nearly bre shoulder to find the thick wealth of chestnut curls, so like he had on a rainy night walking to his truck. Only now, its not poetry whispered in terrible tormenting whispers to her ear but the promised kiss instead.

Her eyes were large, so close to him now, very much like the forest pools in themselves, and lips were still against his a moment before surprise faded into acquiesence, and she was returning that kiss. I might lack the studied touch of one who did much kissing but it had her feeling behind it.

One could only hope it was enough, because knowing he was probably dying against her was tearing her up inside and outside all she gave back were bright eyes with the watery edge and warm kiss.

The cream cotton of her gown would likely be ruined, and she couldn't care less, what coated him, bled from him, no doubt soaking into the fine weave of the cloth. She came up against him, as if she alone could keep him with her. Finally, he was released from her gaze aas lids drooped over them and she gave over to him completely in that moment.

Billy McCann

Wed 10:00PM CST
His left hand is balled, fingers tangled with the fabric of her nightgown, a fist at the base of her spine, five hard knuckles pressing against the fine cotton, heat bleeding through to her skin, counterpoints to the hard facets jointing her supple spine. His right hand is splayed open behind her neck, calloused fingers, slippery with blood that flows still from somewhere, that dampens the back of his hand and her dark hair, that soaks into her nightgown a spreading stain. Fingerpads, rougher than the rest, the callouses from a lifetime of playing and playing and playing the steel-stringed guitar until his fingers were bleeding and the strings was broken and there wasn't nothing left by the hollow thumb of his hand against the body of the instrument.

He breaks the kiss and leans forward, into her, unable to release her, breathing hard, rough chin against her cheek, cheek against her forehead, several days' growth of whiskers scratchy against her fine skin, breath coming hot and hard, deep, ragged gulps. The fingers of his left hand tighten reflexively around the fabric, the hem of her gown rising against the back of her legs as if it were a curtain. His grip on her neck tightens, then, and where it seemed like he couldn't get enough of her, he's letting her go like she's on fire, the twisted nightgown that had crept up her calves to her knees, half-way up her thighs as he gathered the fabric in his hand like fishing line in a reel falling back to its modest level, he's pushing her away from him, breathing hard. Maybe she can't see it: maybe that kiss is an innocent thing to her, Florence Nightengale's cool hand on the fevered forehead of a dying man, but he's not just dying, he's also living. There's more than pain at the forefront of the instinctual mind that lives like a fucking animal beneath his lean human skin.


Arabella Eberstark

Wed 10:09PM CST
The sticky warmth cooling against her skin where the nightgown clings now with the stains left by his wounded body. She's gasping herself, the kiss robbing her of air that she now seeks to draw back... so when he pushed her away it was with less then her usual grace leaving her a stumbling marionette in the moonlight and city glare. The small sound uttered was protesting and pained all in one. Whatever else he was feeling, she was most easily read as afraid he would leave. Fear, it drives her, and the care she had, which might have blossomed towards more in time and perhaps no one will ever know?

"Where're you hurt, Billy... let me help you, please..." Plaintitive sound with the heated undercurrent his kiss had raised threading sweet European accent.

He's pushed her away and she comes closer again, trying to see where it was he was hurt now, as she watched him. Caged animal or simply a man she cared too much for to simply let go... her whisper was poetry this time. Something she'd read in ehr weeks of mourning her brother, then Tucker, adn hoping it wouldn't also be him.

"Live for my living,
or else I must die.
Don't leave me alone,
a world hear that cry."

It summed up her thoughts nicely as she reached for him once more.

Billy McCann

Wed 10:32PM CST
"No." His voice was raw. Now it's feral, near a snarl, a hard knot of sound that tears through the back of his throat. She reaches for him; he grabs up her hands in one of his, hard fingers curving iron bands around her own, soft and fine and shaking - is that her shaking? Is that - god, fucking hell - him? Softer then, but in a voice threaded with iron, with hard-edged fire-forged steel. "No. Y'cain't come no closer. I ain't reasonable, I ain't responsible, an' next time y'touch me I'm gon' do more'n kiss you, Arabella."

The scent on his breath, Scotch - alcohol, something fermented - suddenly asserts itself beneath the blood and grime. He should turn around and look at himself and see the echoes of his brothers in his eyes. He's turning aside when she quotes that, raw and forceful, and he sucks in a deep breath like he's been gutshot, the sound whistles dark through the thick night air. The edges of the world are dancing dark rainbows, now. The room folds in on itself. "Let go. Turn around and git back in yer bed." The command strips past his tortured vocal chords, harsh and hoarse, but threaded with all the authority of his blood, his moon, his tribe. "Go on. Git back in yer bed - " as his grip tightens on her hands, he grabs her upper arm with his free hand, fingers digging into the soft flesh, steering her stumbling backwards. In this darkness, the deaths of his brothers riding hard on the curve of his consciousness, the pack and its bond to the totem disintegrating fasted than a sandcastle at high tide, he doesn't know his own strength. " - git back in bed an' close yer eyes. Fer me. Go on - "

Arabella Eberstark

Wed 10:40PM CST
His harsh gutteral sound, words so raw they make her blink pull her up short, not that his hard grip hadn't done likewise. Years glittered now, understanding beyond what she wanted to know dawning. She wasn't completely innocent of what could happen, simply had not done such herself... and his last.

"Billy..." Choked around a sob that wanted to break loose and she refused to allow it. The pain which flares though fragile seeming body as he exerts command [strength of wolven kind beyond] upon her. That flare of the eyes where she'd disobeyed Aurich so many times, even till the last, she'd followed him until she no longer could... why should it be any different now. "Please... don't make me just... leave you, like this..."

Falling back from him before she headed for her sleep tosed bed, sheets in disarray, blankets folded neatly on a nearby stand unused in summer warmth. It took every ounce of her she had to do as he asked, trembling as a few hot new tears slid free finally and she settled in bed, but those eyes won't leave.... she watche dhim, trying not to break down.

Billy McCann

Wed 10:51PM CST
"Close yer eyes." He all but snarls, the tension bunching in his broad shoulders, curdling in the lean musculature, the slow extrusion of blood from somewhere, drip drip drip onto her fine, fine carpet like a slow-leaking faucet. But she doesn't close her eyes, she's crying in her bed, and instead of crossing the distance between them, instead of going to her, instead of any of a thousand almost kind things he could do for her, he turns his back on her, turns to the window and the city's lights beyond that, his own reflection like a ghost against the black shell of filth prettied up by the endless twinkling lights, diamonds and dust and dust and diamonds. Not his words, but another's, because that's all he has, that's all he's ever had, and his words aren't enough, the wolf inside his head eats them up, scrabbles through him, and it takes fucking effort to turn his back, to stay here when she's beyond him, her purity, her scent, his words, no - another's - his death, his brothers.

"I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart's core."

His rough voice is now a tarnished golden thread, the power and grace of his singing voice still implicit in his ragged tones. His breath makes a hot circle on the glass with every line he utters, but it disappears with the next. Her eyes aren't closed, she won't close her eyes, but he almost closes his, sees his reflection and a different one, an impossible future, bee-loud glad and purple evenings, lake waters, peaceful nights, green eyes - impossible - and chestnut hair.

The last line ends. His voice is still and silent, and maybe in the spell cast by the Moon Dancer's skilled weaving of another's skilled words, maybe for a few graceful minutes, she won't realize that there's no one standing at her window anymore, maybe she won't realize that he's gone.

es car gots

Billy McCann

Sat 09:03PM CST
Lights spill from the fancy awning with the fancy carpet over the wet pavement. Raining tonight, intermittent-like, and the sky is raw with stormclouds. Two valets stand at attention in their red velvet vests, waiting to run out into the storm with umbrellas not for themselves, but for the patrons coming and going. Arabella's car pulls up to the sidewalk and he unfurls his umbrella, leaning forward to provide shelter for her while crossing the dozen feet between the awning and the door her driver is circling the car to open for her. There's another shelter offered, though, not an umbrella but half a jean jacket raised up by one country boy, standing vigil in the rain. Blonde hair's wet, rain's streaming down his solemn features, stains the denim jacket a darker blue. He don't say nothing. But he looks at the valet, and the boy backs off a half-step, hesitant. He don't wanna come near, but don't wanna leave Arabella neither. "Drive ya home?" Billy asks, not really looking at her. More looking at the kid standing there, holding the umbrella down halfways, staring at the bizarre pair, gape-mouthed.

Arabella Eberstark

Sat 09:09PM CST
He had this tendency of finding her when she least expected it. The restaurant? French. The attire? A more formal then he's seen though she'd not dressed up too terribly much, drapped in dark grey silk, the black rosette patterns stitched into the dress artful and tasteful. The rain had merely been a backdrop for the night as she'd dined alone, enjoying simply being out of the condo's echoing rooms, immersed in candlelight and soft music and other people's quiet conversations.

And outside, she was surprised to see him, dripping rain and stepping up like a shadow divulged from the night. Her hand wrapped around a small strapless evening bag, thin shawl draped over her arms, since she'd not needed the convenience of an umbrella between her driver and the valet, and face smiled after a moment's stun. "Billy... you are quite a welcome surprise." The wave to the valet showing it was alright and she nodded.

"I'd like that." Worried about getting wet? She apparently didn't care if it happened.


Billy McCann

Sat 09:21PM CST
Arabella dismisses the valet, and the nervous young man backs away, unconsciously grateful for the reprieve. Still, he stares after her, worry knotting at the base of his neck, stiffening his spine. Wondering if he maybe shouldn't call the police. Wondering if she knew what she was doing. Billy drops his gaze from the boy to the Silver Fang, pale eyes swallowed by the darkness. Maybe she remembers their color, the hard washed-out blue flame. "Glad ta hear it." The corner of his hard mouth rises. It's almost a smile, and it is folded back into the rest of his expression, the hard features swept with rainlight and shadow. The staring sweep of his hungry gaze. Her fingers around the beaded evening bag. The shawl - already wet as she steps out beneath the dubious shelter of half-his coat - conforming to the shape of her arms as the rain splashes against her skin. His gaze tracks the path of a single drop of rain down her cheek. Then, belatedly, he shrugs outta his denim jacket, lean torso moving in hard concert, and swings the whole of it above her, holding it with surprising care. "Good dinner?" Gaze sweeping back a moment, at the name of the restaurant, eyes narrowing to read it. Low-voiced, raw. Strange humor sunk in the texture of his voice. The roughness belies the clarity of his singing voice. "Didja eat up some snails 'r somethin'?"


Arabella Eberstark

Sat 09:29PM CST
The valet dismissed beyond thought and her driver knew enough to step back and as she moved beyond his need, settled himself back within. She'd call if she needed him afterall. For her part, Bella's attention had become focused on Billy too, but with less intent. She was pulling details from memory, superimposed upon the shadowcast figure before her, rain drenched and chivalrous. "Thank you... I don't mind the rain truly, but I would hate to get sick." Imags of Bella wrapped in fluffy pink pajamas and nursing tea and chicken soup might be cute and touching and rather down to earth considering the elegant appearance of her now, the upswept coiffure of darkened curls, damp rain making it slicker, shinier, drawing some of the curls down towards pale line of her throat and face. His ending comment made her pause and then she laughed. "Hardly... I don't like their taste. It was a fancy chicken dish I could never hope of making, and hence... I came here."

She moved closer to him, to diminish the space with which he was holding the coat for her and the rain hitting them both, now glancing about for his dubious pickup. "Besides, the conod was too quiet, even when I was playing piano, so I went out."


Billy McCann

Sat 09:46PM CST
She steps close; he watches her, as he always does. Pale eyes spark in the darkness - back from the nameplate of the restaurant, receding in the rain, to her damp curls and the line of her throat. It ain't poetry he's thinkin' on, neither. His arm above her, her slender, elegant figure close in beside his body. They're walking on the sidewalk, but he stops suddenly, turns to look at her, standing close in. He doesn't touch her, still holds the jacket over her head more than his, the worn shoulders spread wide, the bulk of the jacket falling from his raised arms. His wifebeater wet and clinging to the sinewy lines of his lean, powerful torso. Corded arms, split knuckles of his large hand near enough to her head to snag a few errant curls. Studying her face, the line of her neck, the shape of her nose. Nostrils flare to steal her scent from the wet air, fine perfume mixed with garlic and herbs from the chicken. Close enough that he can feel her body heat, that her humid scent coats his senses. His pale eyes hood, and the flat mouth splits into another rare almost-smile. "I like 'em." Hard to remember what he's talking about. What he's saying. He's staring at her, and reaches to pluck an errant curl from her face, to smooth a rough thumb across her soft cheek. Breath catches in his throat, and the clarification comes bizarre and from out of nowhere, rough and strange. He could near about kiss her. "Snails, I like 'em." But he's waiting for something, and even he cain't tell what. "Maybe me an' th' boy kin liven up yer fancy condo."

Arabella Eberstark

Sat 09:57PM CST
There's an undertone now. Before, well before they'd watched the sunset together, she'd existed in the idea he was a friend, someone who found her interesting as much as she did him. Underlying agendas had been absent in her mind, not thinking he had any other rationale in his. Her experience lacked men who expressed interest in her, to a large degree, and somehow, these days, Tucker wasn't counting high on it regardless.

Then came the sunset, and now there were undertones to what happened and what could. Did she look for the meaning in his words, actions? She still somehow missed cues, naivete what it was, which lent her a lot of her charm actually. But she walked with him, comfortable in the closeness, body heat making it a warmth that came limned in moisture and scents were nearly touchabe things. She actually felt a good deal of guilt he was getting wet for her sake, which had propelled her to move close without impeding his movement. That problem ended when he stopped and she turned her head, to watch him, the smile tugging at the corner of her lips, a progression upwards he could practically time and bet upon. Without the grief and troubles brought on by Tucker, she smiled more like she used to. Glimpses of the girl she was hidden in the girl she is.

"You do? Well next time you can come and have snails..." Would probably prefer company to dinner and the idea of watching him indulge in french cuisine intrigued her. Heart beating a touch faster as he stroked over her cheek, damp, the faint floral scent of her perfume smelling more 'clean' with the mix of rainwater, and food. Simply Bella... bottled up, it could probably sell quite well. It was not unpleasant.

She was watching him more acutely, shifting under his coatheld canopy, mind unable to sit still on what she wanted to say. "Liven up?"

Billy McCann

Sat 10:10PM CST
He takes his time. He always does. Deliberate and confident. Maybe even bold, he just keeps standing there. The rain falls, and the wind rises, catching stray strands of her curling hair, flinging them across her cheek. After a moment of silence. "Wouldn't let me inna a place like that. Wouldn't wanna dress up, anywise. They do take-out?" His voice is still low, but now there's a gold threat to the raw tones. Light shines from the streetlamps onto the pavement. Glints off her hair, reflects in her eyes. He catches an errant lock with his free hand, twines it around his fingers, thumb hardly leaving her skin. Cool and soft, like nothing. He thinks of clouds, not clouds, rain, rainwet stones like satin, pale, solid, the sky reflecting across their surface, the spaces beyond. "Me 'n th' boys. Liven up yer silent place. Someone's always yapping. 'Cept Morgan'd probably break th'lamps a-swangin' from th' chandeliers. Ain't th'best idea I ever had." He looks up at last, toward his rusting ole truck parked not fifteen yards away now. Looks back at her, a strange expression on his face. "C'mon. Yer gittin' wet."

Arabella Eberstark

Sat 10:16PM CST
"I think... they can be persuaded." That answer could be to so many things, watching him, or more feeling, heat of his hand, strong, rough [welcome] against her cheek. No makeup to speak of, nothing disasterously smudged or ruined by the rain or wind. She could look pretty in maybe most any situation, with a natural draw in her.

Trying to imagine the McCanns in her condo, and somehow not able to, for the most part. She hardly knew a few of them to place it. Breath had caught in ehr throat a moment, wondering at the expression, eyes large, luminous under streetlight and in damp night, deep dark emeralds n ehr face when he could even catch a color.

"I'm not minding, truly..." Almost as if the truck would break the mystery of the moment, the wonder she had in him and what went on behind that rarely changing expression.

Billy McCann

Sat 10:43PM CST
She doesn't mind. He doesn't smile. His eyes don't flicker, don't come near to wavering from his face. His hands tighten against her cheek. She can feel it: sudden and sure. "I do." There's nothing soft about him, not even his poet's dreams. "I mind you gittin' wet. I mind you gittin' - " The sentence ends, abrupt, like it's done been chopped off midgrowth. The hard forearms flex with repressed energy, misappropriated, inappropriate, the storm that rides hard within him, diverted and changed and always changing. Ropes of veins sliding around the muscles. He says it again, like she didn't hear it the first time, like he can't let go of it: dog and bone, and he don't watch his language none at all. "I fucking mind." His momma wouldn't be pleased, but he ain't been a boy fer years. "C'mon." He says again, leaning forward, over her, hand falling from her cheek to graze the back of her elbow. Then rising to curve behind her neck and open her head, lift her face to his. Hard fingers splayed through her hair, making a ruckus of her elegant hair, pins falling like hard black raindrops to the damp sidewalk. Palm warm and strong on the back of her neck. She can feel his strength. He can breathe in her in. His body shifts and he leans forward, without ever dropping the jacket that is her shelter from the rain. She might think he's going to kiss her, and he comes close to it, hard mouth a half-inch above hers, breath rough and hitching up through his chest and throat with each of them. Then his mouth moves, a half-inch. It could be the half-inch between them, but it's a half-inch closer to her ear.

"We saw the last embers of daylight die,
And in the trembling blue-green of the sky
A moon, worn as if it had been a shell
Washed by time's waters as they rose and fell
About the stars and broke in days and years.
I had a thought for no one's but your ears:
That you were beautiful, and that I strove
To love you in the old high way of love."

He stays there a full nother thirty seconds, breathing hard, like he's run a damned race and is oxygen starved. Mostly, he's just tasting her in the back of his throat, in his mouth, her scent on his tongue. Human, sweet, herbs, everything. Sweat and rain and the heat of exhaust from a passing car. Tastes it all, breathes it in and makes it her and hers. Abruptly, he releases her, steps back and starts walking again, slow enough that he doesn't leave her behind in the rain. The old high way of love. "C'mon." Again, his pale gaze, rough knuckles flexing beneath denim. "Yer gittin' wet."

Arabella Eberstark

Sat 10:54PM CST
She simply watche shim, eyes growing a size or two larger, as if to catch more of him in them, to read deeper, but understanding doesn't come from merely seeing more. In every way he throws her new conflicts and confusions, and she likes it, she looks for more. The tightneing through him, which touches her and others don't and she doesn't flinch. The fact he could tear life fom her without even breaking a sweat uncomfortable to some, but trust lingers deeper in her dark eyed gaze.

Eyes drift towards half closed, as he tilts her face up, lips only parting to emit some soft surprised sound which was neither protest nor plea and simply dies before it grows past the initial utterance. Quite frankly didn't know what to think, nor had much mental faculty to do so. His heat, sharp scent of man that was him, tensed and wet and earthy, it wrapped around her senses much as his hand did her neck.

She'd have to buy new hairpins one of these days...

Eyes do fall closed as he whispers, as much feeling the poetry as hearing it, and a soft tremor going through her at the words. Poignant and touching and deep. It made her heart beat faster, pulse jumping like a living thing beneath the taut skin of her throat. Then he's moving, away and she's breathless, scattered and nearly stumbling to follow. How -did- he do that anyways?

"Mind my getting what?" Feedback loop to his first broken sentence was her whispered reply for the time being.

Billy McCann

Sat 11:14PM CST
He steadies the jacket over her head, holds out a hand to her - automatic and real polite, natural - as she stumbles. Rough blunt fingers a calloused counterpoint to her fine, soft hands. He don't say nothing in response to her question. Don't say nothing more as he walks with her, sheltering her, to the truck. Opens the passenger's door and flashes her a look that has more fire and less humor than usual. Stands back, offering her a hand instead of lifting her up, like he done the last time. Like he can't trust himself to touch her, to wrap his hands around her waist. Like he don't know what he'd do. He drops the jacket and offers her a second hand if'n she needs it, hands her up into the cab without manhandling her, then looks up at her. Stares from below at her, and looks from her damp, curling hair and the rainshadows crossing her pale face, her fine features, to the the buildings that form the backdrop, to the stormclouds above. There's a moon up there, somewhere. Maybe he takes something from that, for he drops his pale eyes from the sky back to her. Stands there in the rain, lifts his chin toward her, or the world beyond her. "Mind you gittin' rained on. I mind you gittin' any kinda trouble. S'all." He doesn't smile, face still and solemn as a preacherman, or an undertaker, except for his eyes. He steps back then, closes the door behind her, closes her in. Stalks around the front of the truck, banging on the hood several times like he needs to wake up the engine from its slumber, then climbs in the driver's side, the scent of the rain invading the close, damp air. Steps up in one easy motion and swings into his seat, has the engine started before he has the door closed. Hank Williams, Sr. wails quietly in the background, honkytonk from the speakers. The engine hums and thrums and lurches, the whole cab vibrates with the engine's reassuring power. He don't say anything else. He just drives her home.

Arabella Eberstark

Sat 11:19PM CST
She doesn't understand him, or maybe its because the slim experience she does have is with those who weren't restrained, weren't toiling with their own demons. She remembered what Jodi had told her off and on, and somehow wondered if he thought about that other woman, when he looked at her...

Wondering which Wiliam had been the source of tonight's poetry, she remained silent though,climbing precariously into his truck, needing both those hands briefly in her heels, the edges of silk catching at legs were water had dampened in spots. Bedraggled and carrying it off with supreme confidence she merely smiled, and nodded.

There were going to be more tormented dreams that had nothing to do with her fading grief and everything to do with one welter of a confusing Fianna likely. He made her wonder now, when...

sunset

[Missed first posts. Downtown, in front of Arabella's Condo.]

-phone call-

Thu 07:00PM CST
From Arabella's purse the digital strains of Bach or Beethoven, or Chopin, or whatever she has her ring tone set to, chime out.

Arabella Eberstark

Thu 07:05PM CST
"Well, no one else had, and you and your family have done a lot to cheer me up lately... it reminds me a lot of my own." The slight smile, seriousness dripped through her words. So serious for seventeen. Its been a few months now since she's done anything simply for fun until recently. She turned some to glance at Starbucks, and then his truck, her answer carried in her smile. "A drive would be nice. Getting away from people is always good, and I've had enough of them from my piano instructor." The strains of Chopin that begun to play in hesmall handbag getting a bemused expression.

"Ohh... excuse me, Billy... don't know who could be calling..." The slim flip phone pulled out and she opened it, a glance at the caller ID as she answered. "Hello?"

-phone call-

Thu 07:06PM CST
From the phone Billy can hear the static sounding wha-wha-wha of a loud and familiar voice. Chattering away enthusiastically.

Billy McCann

Thu 07:16PM CST
Keys jangle as he digs around his front pocket for 'em. Ain't got but a few on the ring. Don't have much to lock up except the truck and the toolbox across the back. Ain't nothing in the houseboat that anyone would want, and they's almost always a brother at home. They slide on out, he picks through 'em, turning back toward the passenger's side. Fits his hand through the handle and pulls it open for Arabella like he's some sort of gentleman (which he ain't) an' looks at her with that intense gaze, like he's near about ready to boost her up in there. An' it's a bigass old thang, needs about a ladder to get up to the cab, so maybe he's gon' boost her anyway. She answers the phone and he just nods in that implacable manner. Looks up and away, but don't leave. Don't give her extra space to have her half of the conversation in private. Watches her from beneath half-hooded eyes, the crawl of expression across her face. The way her mouth moves when she talks. The flashes of white teeth behind pink lips. The way her fingers spill over the sides of the phone, the way she - pianist she - moves them. Just watches.

Arabella Eberstark

Thu 07:22PM CST
She didn't seem to be wanting privacy, in fact might not have answered the phone at all since she was with him if she'd thought to turn it off to voicemail already. Alas for hindsight. It was a smile that brightened some at hearing Jodi's voice though. "Well hello to you, Jodi Lynn. I'm doing well... actually with your cousin right now talking."

She looks up at Billy from her study of the scenery while she talked and chuckled softly. She spoke with deliberation, each owrd perfectly formed with lips untouched by lipstick, and only occaionally by gloss. She rarely wore any form of makeup beyond a touch of perfume, which, if he tried to catch, was some sort of exotic floral blend. "No, riding would be lovely. I know I have somethings going on tomorrow but I typically exercise my horse at some point. I'd love for you to come along."

She moves closer, perhaps thinking to climb into this monstrously high truck while she chatted with the owner's cousin on the phone. Young woman chatter though who could ever say Bella was a chatterer she didn't know. "Just between you and me, then, and I will. Have a good night."

Billy McCann

Thu 07:44PM CST
Billy's mouth splits into one of his brief grins as he hears his cousin's voice on the phone. As he hears her name, too. The smile lingers as Arabella steps up close. He swings open the passenger door the rest of the way as she steps up, then falls in behind her, tall and close. "It's real high Miss Arabella." Voice quiet like always, and near her ear again. Rough, like he's in the middle of a long night and dawn ain't nowhere in sight yet. "Lemme help you on up." He don't ask no more. Just wraps his hands around her waist and lifts her on up, like it warn't no big thing, until she can slide into the passenger's seat real easy. Rough hands catch on the fine silk of her gown, the fingers strong and warm. He holds her like that about two shakes longer than necessary, watching the shape of her shadowed through the dress. The way it rucks up and uncurls and flows, but it's just moments, like he forgot what he was doing in the motion of doing it, then remembered again a moment later. Hardly worth mentioning.

Once she's settled, he checks for fingers and toes, then slams the door closed. The sound rattles on through the whole of the truck, like they's about 5000 loose parts holed up in the frame, marbles and ball bearings what got unstuck from more important duties an' have just settled in to make rustbucket noise. Slaps the side of the door, then walks around the front, squeezing past the big old shiny SUV parked in front of him. Swings hisself on up and into the driver's side in an easy motion and starts the truck up. Something grinds somewhere in the engine, and the sounds seems like it amuses him. He flashes her another grin - this one near hang-dog - before it settles back off her face. "Morgan said he done fixed that rattle." The cab's large, the bench seat near torn-up, the struts shot, the springs old and either too springy or not enough. There's a distinct underscent of whiskey, even if there ain't no evidence he's been drinking. Something's rattling around in the well at her feet, and some papers is sticking out from the sunvisor, tucked above it. Country music is quiet on the radio as he looks away from her. Puts the truck into gear, swings his arm across the back of the seat and strains to look behind him as he pulls out.

Arabella Eberstark

Thu 07:51PM CST
She tries not to suirm as he lifts her easy as he pleased up to a level to slide into the passenger seat. She's not tiny, but it was high. It rather amused her, though she might have meneged if not so attired. She did ride horses afterall. "Thank you Billy." Doing a lot of that tonight, for assistance rendered, for compliments given and just being a subtly uplifting mood usually. Then, while he came around to climb in, she closed her phone, slid away again but this time voicemail on and calls forwarding so she wouldn't be interrupted again. Her hat pulled off her head and settled on her lap and gloves lightly tugged free of her hands. Shge didn't much enjoy those in the summertime, and it was only for the appearance of things she'd worn them to her lesson. Those were shoved rather haphazardly into her handbag as she settled herself as comfortably as she could.

"I don't believe I've met Morgan..." And she wondered how mnay more McCann clan might appear in Chicago as truck rattled and groaned and made all manner of noises she's never associated with a vehucle before. It was a bit intimidating. She watched him drive while he watched around them to do such, a level of trust in him that he won't wreck, or his truck won't fall apart somewhere inconvenient.

Billy McCann

Thu 07:58PM CST
"I said it before an' I'm'on'a say it agin, you don't need to thank me, Miss Arabella. Ain't necessary." Reaches up, adjusting the rear view mirror until the sun ain't blaring right into his eyes, then shifts back into first gear and swings the big old truck out into traffic. The vehicle handles easier than Arabella might think, given its ponderous size,. They ain't no power steering, though, so Billy has to work at swinging the wheel hard around and into the tight spots. "Morgan's the second-youngest. Cody's the youngest. Tommy - you met him - he's the middle boy, an' Ryan's the oldest." Once they're out in steady traffic, he drapes his arm across the seat again, so his hand is settin' near her shoulder, the nape of her neck, or thereabouts. The tips of his rough fingers tangled in a few free strands of her hair. "You said what Cody done reminded you of somethin'?"

Arabella Eberstark

Thu 08:07PM CST
"Its polite, Billy... and habit." She smiles almost sheepishly, the fact she might be one of the most well taught in etiquette of her generation not entirely impossible. her eyes drifted from traffic, indeed amazed at how the vehicle handled, and him driving. She knew how to drive, even did it on occasion, but her mother had felt safer that she have someone driving her around in crazy American traffic.

She nodded some, soft curls drifting around her fce and shoulders freely. She didn't shrug away from his hand, if anything, it combined with the topic made her glad of it. She was remarkably fragile in a few ways inside, and this period after the Raptor's was making her so. "Something, yes. Its very... fuzzy... I can't really remember now who or what, but it was similar... I got so angry that night, some at his inconsoderate prank, but more because it made itself plain then that I was beginning to forget..." Her voice had fallen to a soft tone,a quiet whisper of sweet tones and personal thoughts.

Billy McCann

Thu 08:22PM CST
The car sweeps around a traffic circle, and where they had been driving away from the slant of the setting sun, now they're heading toward it. Billy don't bother flipping down his sun visor, he just squints even more like always, like he was made to squint. The sunglare is harsh only when the shadows of the buildings aren't sprawling across the road, getting in their way. But the sun's slipping down rapidly, and Billy shifts up and shifts up, accelerating through traffic. There's still some raw uncertain sound somewhere in the frame - struts, maybe - and the ride ain't easy, but they're getting through traffic at a pretty good clip. He doesn't answer her normal like. He don't respond as soon as she does, and her explanation falls into a silence that don't seem uneasy, if only because Billy's pretty near silent an awful lot of the time. The radio croons - he shoots her a look and shakes his fingers free of her hair to reach to turn it up - "That's Patsy Cline." - offering an explanation in case she don't know, because likely she don't. Fingers drift through her freeflowing curls, but he doesn't quite touch her, not completely. His hand is just a presence. At last, when they're pulling off Lakeside Drive onto some little spitting peninsula of a park that faces west out over the lake, he looks up and over at her. "You don't have to 'pologize fer gittin' angry over that. Seems t'me like it's about yer right t'get angry. Happens t'everone." Reaching out to brush a thumb across her cheek. "You let yourself get angry about that. Maybe it'll slow it down some, maybe it won't. Don't do not to feel what you're feelin', though." He looks at her serious another moment, then puts the truck in park and sets the brake. Looks away from her, out through the windshield. "Got here near about in time fer sunset."

Arabella Eberstark

Thu 08:33PM CST
She winced some at particular sounds, seriously wondering how long the truck might hold up as she rode inside of it. She liked stability in some things, like automobiles. Their lives were riding on flimsy shocks and who knew how many other troubles, afterall.

"I didn't know that." Country is not her forte. Her hands fold around the hat she'd worn until she was in the truck, looking ove rat him or down more as sunlight kept trying to blind her. If she wondered why he was silent, it didn't show. He was silent a lot, and she didn't feel the need to fill it with more words. There were time when more said only took away from what came before.

"It was just a bad night all around. One among many lately..." The slight smile as she glanced at him, the almost comfort, somehow touching brush of his thumb sothing in a way. She had few to talk to anymore.

"I'm sure they're lovely over the lake." Letting the new subject intrude on what was a somber moment, well longer then moments.

Billy McCann

Thu 08:45PM CST
The last strains of Crazy drift through the cab. When the song's over, Billy reaches across his body and shuts off the radio. Nothing that comes after can compare. Arabella lets the subjects drift like ice floes in the north atlantic or clouds in the sky - one to another. Billy falls silent again, just nods maybe, a sound of appreciation in the back of his throat, fingers warm near the nape her neck, almost brushing her skin through the clouds of curls. He gets up at last, though - pausing to grab something from beneath the seat, maybe one of the things that had been rolling around beneath her feet - then tramps around to the other side of the truck. Opens her door and lifts her out with the same care he give her before, hands spread out around her waist, thumbs to the front, fingers splayed across the small of her back. Sure, she could just jump down, but then he couldn't pick her up, could he now? He sets her down and sets her free and starts walking at her side, up the path to the edge of the lake and a lookout with old coin operated binoculars splashed ochre and crimson by the violent eruption of the setting sun across the sky. Walks in silence a bit, before shooting her another near unreadable look. Pale eyes squinting, but not against the sun, now. "Ain't no one else there fer you? Yer folks 'r nothin'?"

Arabella Eberstark

Thu 08:54PM CST
It was a pleasant sort of soothing. There were no messy entanglements, no demands, no ties, no troubles... and she sat in the silence, comfortable, feeling him near and not bothered. She wasn't embarrassed, blushing, or tense, simply watching the day wend into night and thinking. It was good for the soul perhaps.

Billy's movement disturbs that radiant peace but not in a bad way. Curiosuity for what he grabbed and then he was out and moving. She let him lift her down, the trace bit shy finally with it and stretching a little once on the ground again. They walked in the silence again until he spoke and she let it hang there, unanswered, begging for one, or needing one as she thought. Face turned towards the setting sun, hands bare of gloves and free of hat and purse for the moment. She was picking her way carefully in heels.

"My mother is in germany, and the brothers I have left are away to various places in business." She didn't elaborate what kinds, but all were kin or Garou, and all had their own places. "I'm the youngest of six, and Aurich was the oldest. We always had a special relationship, a certain closeness I didn't share with my other brothers. Now that he's gone his mate and two guests we've had for some months now are with me..." But Genenvieve was cold comfort, if she deigned to acknowledge a need for grief outwardly and Josephina and Jocelyn were busy with their pack concerns much of the time. "Everyone has their own lives..."

Billy McCann

Thu 09:09PM CST
Like near about always, Billy walks beside her and while he ain't touching her, he near about is. His hand hovers just at the small of her back, a constant presence, but don't never breach the little bit of distance. Giving her space and not presuming (all that much), but never letting her forget his presence, neither. They come on up to that little spit of land jutting out into the lake. The highway noises recede, but they's still a dull roar. The city's lights splash and smear across the dark waters, which ripple and twist like loosened, heedless silk in the everpresent Chicago wind. The wind catches her hair, sweeps it back behind her like a flag. His left hand gets all tangled up in the longest strands but he shakes them free, letting the wind have them. It's hardly an idyllic scene, the chemical plants and docks lining the lakeshore near as far as can be seen, except for tracts of land like this one, devoted to greenspaces. But the sun is spilling fire from the west, and the dark, befouled waters are reflecting it back to the sky, and if you half close your eyes, you can pretend that the worst of the blight don't exist. And if you pretend that, you kin pretend that the war is winnable, and this is just a pleasant idyll. You can pretend an awful lot, if you've a need. Maybe Billy thinks Arabella Eberstark von Doenhoff has a need.

"Yer always talkin' about lessons. You thinkin' what you wanna do with 'em? Or is that a family matter?" Pale eyes slice away from the sun to her face, her eyes, which reflect the dying sun's rays. The green's lost beneath the reflected flare, and her fine skin is painted sunset colors. His hand drops from behind her as they come to the edge of the little peninsula. He reaches out in front of him, grabbing the flaking railing meant to keep people from falling off into the dark waters. Flexes his right hand, bruised knuckles popping audibly, then his left. Then reaches into his right pocket with three fingers, fishing out a quarter. Circles back around her and puts the quarter into the old binoculars, bends forward to look through, then steps back so's she kin have a turn.

Arabella Eberstark

Thu 09:17PM CST
When her mind finally forgot and her heart settled to an unknown ache that was vaguely painful at times, she might resume that light hearted smile and easy carefree mischieviousness that had endeared her to many over the years. Nothing had ever dimmer her until this loss and its subsequent problems around it. She might try to pretend, looking out on industry and devestation, and somply relaxing into the here and now, but it never works. Nor should it, probably, though the thought always counts.

"I don't really know. Its not something I think anyone's cared to consider. I'm sure sometime after school is complete marriage will be expected and settling into some household like my mother did, having and raising children, tending to things while they're away." It almost sounds pathetic as a future, so plain, so flat, for her. She doesn't seem to mind, but likewise, doesn't seem excited. Moving closer to the binoculars, she bent to peer through them, to gaze on some piece of the view which wasn't chemicals and human depredation. The sunset was lovely at least. She was moving to stand straight again, when she continued. "I'm not really good at anything, rather kinda average at a lot of things. I like the piano and I know I'm decent at that, but... its nothng more then a hobby I suppose."

Billy McCann

Thu 09:24PM CST
"'n what if you could do anything?" Rough hand settled on the binoculars, the broad flat section between the two sharp points holding the optics. One foot hitched up on the heavy forged base, leaning forward and near over her was she looks out at the great beyond. The timer ticks away - just clockwork, some collection of gears an' all - its strange loud little song. She steps away and finds him studying her again. "Be good at anything, pick anything you wanted to do. Anything in the whole dang world you could be or do. Any idea what you'd pick?"

Arabella Eberstark

Thu 09:33PM CST
She stands by the binoculars, space left for him to look again if he so chose. She watched him, around them, hand toiling to contorl some of the hair whih blew across her face, obscured her eyes at times. It rippled over the silk dress she was wearing, making a soft sweet whisper of a sound. Silk itself could sound so enigmatic, so seductive without any real effort. She pout forth none, in fact seemed oblivious.

"If I could do anything... thats hard. The only thing I ever wanted to do was help my brother... and thats done now. I never thought beyond that... I never really imagined this time afterwards and what my future might be. It always seemed so... distant." She sighed some, figuring it sounded lame and tired. She'd never pondered her future for worrying about others... Aurich and the Raptors, her family, even Tucker... but not herself.

Billy McCann

Thu 09:52PM CST
"You'll figger it out. Find somethin' t'do that's worth doin'. It'd be a waste if'n y'spent it just waitin' fer someone else. Y'ain't just some pretty girl, yer a whole person. Them lessons gon' be good fer somethin', someday. I aim t'help you figger that all out, if'n y'don't mind it, none." It's a long speech for Billy, but doesn't have any particular urgency. His sentences amble around on their own. Take their time gettin' around to the point sometimes. He ain't hurried. He falls silent after he finishes, then leans forward, in close. Maybe she thinks he's gonna take another look through the binoculars, which are so old that they make the world wavy and wobbly more than anything else. Don't bring much you wanna see closer, but at least the details are still sort of erased. Just a dark-edged shoreline, the flash of distant lights. Don't think about that, though. Braced against the binoculars, he leans forward and reaches to catch the the flying strands of her hair. Patient, he catches them, smoothes them away from her forward and holds them behind her face. He leans in like he's gonna kiss her.

But he don't kiss her.

Just stands there with his mouth a few inches away from hers, and her dress swimming across her body like water or a flag, the supple sounds of the silk, the strange exotic mixture of her perfume, which is something he ain't really never smelled before her, and something he can't name. His pale eyes are intense, the last of the sunlight reflecting across them makes them some other color, but the regard is the same as always. Maybe harder, sharper. More taut somehow. "I'm gonna kiss you someday." There's alcohol on his breath. She can smell it. There about always is. But he don't sway, and it ain't on the clothes or in his hair, just the hint of it on his breath. "But I'm savin' up fer it."

Arabella Eberstark

Thu 09:59PM CST
She thought about it, about how she told Tuckr once she was the future where there were white picket fences and supportive spouses, domesticity and comfort. It fit her and yet she wasn't sure she wanted just that, anymore. She was questioning everything now, in her confusion, in her life. "I'd like that, I think." The light catch of a smile at the corners, wher elips look to create it, but it never becomes fully realized. It stays half formed and chamring, in her odd sort of way, as he leans in, as he gathers up hair almost as silky as her dress and she watches his eyes for some indication of his intent.

She didn't need to since he was telling her just a few breaths later but green eyes glitter as they catch on his more, watchful, wondering. "Are kisses like bank accounts, to save for?" It would have been coy from most anyone else but she whispers it like a genuine question, as if she truly wanted to know, or understand him.

Billy McCann

Thu 10:16PM CST
"Th'best ones is. An' they's a difference between them and th' rest of them." He grins a moment, and it don't disappear so much as it seeps away. His serious face seems softer for it, though. Or maybe that's just the twilight shaving the hard edges from his features. His left hand stills behind her and shakes free of the strands of her hair. Instead, he wraps calloused fingers around the back of her neck, the base of her skull. Lifts her head the better to see that half-formed smile that tugs the corners of her mouth, and then lifts his right hand off the time-ticking binoculars to brush a calloused thumb across the corners of her mouth. His eyes drift down from her eyes to the shape of her mouth beneath his hand, go near unfocused with remembering. He straightens, and the edge of his grin returns.

"How many loved your moments of glad grace?
And loved your beauty with love false or true?
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face."

Finishes his reciting and tips his head forward, like he didn't mean it at all and he had to go through with it. Entranced by her, or the moment, or maybe by the old eloquence of those recited words. But he just sweeps close, releasing her easily from his grasp while settling his arm around her shoulders. Turning to walk back to the truck. She can feel the solid shape of his arm over her shoulders. The lean strength inherent in the way his body moves over and around hers, the animal confidence of it all. Her hair is caught half by his arm, and half by the wind, and blows about the two of them like its near possessed. He shakes free of it. "Figure its near time fer you t'get home. Wouldn't want no one there t'worry."

Arabella Eberstark

Thu 10:23PM CST
"Well, someday, perhaps I will see." She can't help but smile a touch more, curiousity in this thing. There was a kind of intimacy, almost entrancing in the way he touched her, studied her features like they were an object of art, or intrigue. It made her feel warm inside, that fact she's encountered few who actually looked at her this way, a surprise few could imagine. She stays still, half smiling, under his touch and gaze until he began to recite his verse... and it bloomed more full force. "You do know exactly what to say sometimes, Billy... you've a perfect knacl for it."

Settling into his arm to walk with him, the night made more perfect by the lack of things. She didn't know if she wanted to explore other levls of this... thing... they had, which she'd viewed as friendship until very recently. Walking with him felt eeriely like walking with Jaan, or Rasputin, or Aurich... "Its probably best, if anyone's home, they might wonder. If is the keyword there of course." Feeling a bit lighter and more relaxed now.

we all scream for ice cream

Jodi Lynn McCann

Wed 06:47PM CST
Outside one of the few buildings in the area that has remained commercial, on the tailgate of a rusted out old Ford pickup, she sits with her cowboy boots scuffing over the pavement. The bulk of one braided pigtail twisted around an index finger while her other hand holds the soft serve ice cream cone she just purchased to her mouth. Pink tongue hungrily licking away drips of milky melted vanilla. From the open windows of the pickup Alabama belts out an upbeat tune. The bed of the truck is a mess of this and that, and the other. A tackle box, and an old balled up tee shirt, a pair of fishing rods, and a small toolbox filled with miss matched sets of screwdrivers and ratchet tools. Dead leaves and twigs and bits of straw from the old trucks life on the farm still cling to the corners of the box along with bits of caked on mud and oil stains. Cornflower blue eyes trail over the street, peering toward the chain link fences surrounding the industrial complexes across the street with the smallest hint of contempt. City folk and their tendancy to shut people out just seem to rub this good old country girl the wrong way.

Billy McCann

Wed 06:59PM CST
It ain't but a few minutes later that Billy walks on outta the Dairy Freeze and near about follows his cousin path from door to the tailgate of that old rusted pickup. She left behind her a drip-drip-drip path of melted bloblets of soft serve ice cream that he managed to follow, and 'sides. They came in together. He ain't eatin' ice cream, though. Has a pair of hot dogs instead, the way they serve 'em up here, and has near about finished one. Head shunted to the side, cupping the sopping, overstuffed bun to chow down. Farm boys is hungry boys, and poor boys to boot. "Don't think I like what they call sauce here." He allows to Jodi Lynn as he comes abreast of the truck, circles 'round and leans against one side, feel planted sprawlingly apart, lounging. "They ain't managed to mess up th'ice cream, has they?" Squinting against the assault of the sun, which feels rough and good and hot on his skin, Billy peers at his cousin with that near flat gaze.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Wed 07:02PM CST
The docks beyond the chainlink aren't of much concern to her. Her gaze eases over them, peering down at the men there from beyond the criss crossing barrier of woven steel. Watching them reminds her a bit of farm hands. Though their labor over hefty wooden crates and other such cargo is a lot different from a pitch fork and hay bundles. Still, hard work is hard work, and its to be admired where you can find it. It is afterall a dying past time. In a world that is more focused on keeping sweat and dirt out of peoples lives, the simple pleasures of a hard days physical work have gone to the dogs. [Literally?] Licking rivulets of melted cream from her cone, she pulls her gaze away from the riverbank and the docks and looks up and then down the street her pickup is parked on. The tailgate creaking beneath her weight as she swings her boot clad feet to the music, knees pressed together in an almost prim fashion. Bare legs scuffed with age old scars and even a few new nicks and scratches. Turning a smiling gaze on Billy she shakes her head and lets loose the frayed end of her pigtail before licking her lips and replying.

"Tastes fine t'me."

As though to prove the point she gives the cone and long and slow lick that spans its circumfrence, then smacks her lips deliciously.

"Ice creamy as any."

James Wagner

Wed 07:05PM CST
That's about when he came upon the group of Billy and Jodi, taking a swig of his SoBe. It may not be alcohol, but it tastes good. He watched her give that cone a slow, long lick, and winced to himself. He hated how women had a way of affecting men even if they don't truly mean to fuck with the head of every man in sight. Nontheless, the icecream isn't the only thing that's gonna be getting creamy, if James has his way. Er. Right.

Billy McCann

Wed 07:10PM CST
Billy ain't watchin' the docks. He's watching Jodi Lynn watch the docks, eyes half-shut against the blazing late afternoon sun. The beat of her boots against the tailgate of that old truck. His long face is still like near about always, mouth a straight line. Watches right on through as she licks her way all 'round the ice cream cone, and that's the only time when a hint of a smile - or maybe it is a smirk, really - tugs his flat mouth upwards at the corners. What'd they say about kissin' cousins? "You better watch y'self Jodi Lynn. We ain't got no room on the houseboat for a couple-three young'uns." Finishes the rest of his hot dog, a good handful of sauce splatting out onto the hot sidewalk. Stares down at it and shifts his stance against the truck. Looks back up and see James walking up. Tips his head fer greeting, but don't say nothing. That Jodi Lynn's department, ain't it?

Jodi Lynn McCann

Wed 07:15PM CST
She casts a smirk of her own back in Billy's direction, a touch of gooey white cream clinging to the corner of her mouth before she licks it away with a smile.

"Ain't hardly room on that houseboat fer us, n'ere mind any younguns."

Funny, how she takes innuendos and makes them literal, almost without knowing it. Innocent that way she is. She watches Billy bite into the last of his dog, and really, it doesn't have the same arousing effect when a man does it. Now, put a dog in the hands of a cute country girl and make her do about the same thing, and men would make it sexual. She seems about to say something else, when Billy lifts his gaze from the sidewalk toward James, and gives the tattooed man a nod of greeting. Her own gaze follows Billy's and her 40 watt smile turns all the way up to 80.

"Hey James, how y'all doin?"

James Wagner

Wed 07:17PM CST
In response to Billy, he gave the man a nod of his own, and to Jodi he gave an equally dazzling smile and wink. Most of his inked features were masked by a t-shirt this time, despite his penchant for wearing tank tops during the summer months. "Afternoon."

Jodi Lynn McCann

Wed 07:21PM CST
If she doesn't keep on licking that cone, its simply going to ooze all down the back of her hand and into her lap. The heat of the day melts the cream almost as fast as she can lick it away, and in the time it took her to reply to Billy and greet James, a few drips of it have fallen the long fall to the cement below and splattered there. So her tongue goes to work again, licking away the liquifying frozen treat before she licks her lips again and grins at James.

"I was jes 'bout t'tell Billy all 'bout th'party he done missed last night."

She glances then toward her cousin with a smile, canting her head to one side as she peers at him.

"Ara-bella done stopped by fer a spell, hopin t'see y'all. Said t'tell ya thanks. Fer th'song y'done wrote bout her..."

Uncertain pause as her brow furrows slightly.

"...friend what died."

Billy McCann

Wed 07:27PM CST
"You jest 'member that, Jodi Lynn McCann." Says Billy, hard on the heels a her comment bout the arrangements at the houseboat. Says it hard and says it forceful, an edge cutting beneath his voice that's got some darker stain to it. Still, it must be hard to take him serious when he goes from starin' to starin' and thinks to chastise someone else for their propensities. When James steps on up, Billy falls even more silent. Is that possible? Still, he does it. Shifts his stance against the truck, which yaws a bit and groans like metal shearing as pushes back. Ain't because he's such a badass so much as the truck's near held together by rust. Leans forward a bit, hand raisin' up to scritch an itch near the back a his shoulder, pale fired gaze snake sliding back n forth 'tween James an' Jodi Lynn near about the whole time. Then he shoots a sidelong glance at Jodi Lynn, something changing in the set of his shoulders, something easing strange in his jaw. Nods his head accepting her news without saying anything, as is near about always his way, but he pats his pack pocket, feelin' the piece of paper he put there. Slippin' away, it all it. Farther and farther away.

Rachel Watson

Wed 07:29PM CST
*Tucking one hand into her pocket, she idly swipes at the strands of hair in her face, tucking part of it behind her ear as she crosses the street to reach the Dairy Freeze. It has to be stiffling walking around in all that clothes in this weather.

James Wagner

Wed 07:30PM CST
James shrugged a little bit. He wasn't there for the whole thing, just long enough to bring over a couple of kegs and some over drinks, and then it was off again. Wasn't much he coulda done about it anyway. He flicked a glance at Billy, and then to Jodi. Must have something to do with Arabella's deceased brother, Brand. Terrible thing, that, losing one's family. But it was a fate they accepted and lived with.

Evelyn 'Evie' Bryant

Wed 07:32PM CST
The car rolls up the street slowly, sunlight glinting off the windshield as it rolls to a halt to park not so far away from the truck. Not so far away from the others.

The car door opens, and from the dark blue vehicle steps she steps, shaking back the honey blonde strands from her cheeks. One tanned leg emerging at a time, and if the eyes follow right down, or up depending which way they travel, there are sandals on the feet [ballerina’s weapon of choice] and a denim skirt that hides the upper thigh just before it becomes to revealing. As she stands, and shuts her door, she leans in a little to lock it. And there’s again the slide of denim over those long legs. A dancer’s body she has, even if she’s a little on the thin side.

It’s warm. And she feels overheated, even in the skirt and white tank top, and as she turns, slinging a bag over a shoulder [making the movement one thing. Twist. Turn. Straighten. Flick hair over shoulder that licks down her spine like golden flame] she cannot help but lift a hand to press against her forehead, trying somehow to gently eradicate signs of warmth. The tell tale trickles of sweat.

She begins to move now, the skirt settling snug against her hipbones; a slither of abdomen revealed as the shirt doesn’t quite reach. She moves and somehow keeps her appearance sensual, but not overtly sexual. Not on purpose at any rate. Dancer’s are finely in tune with their bodies, this is their way. Every movement, every action is an extension of their passion, and so they do it with the fluidity a painter does his brush. Each stroke for him is carefully considered. For Evie, all she could ever do was dance, and thus, this shows with every step she takes. It’s in her posture, the way she holds her chin up, the glimmer to her dark eyes.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Wed 07:33PM CST
Bright blue eyes roll mildly in Billy's direction as he chastises her.... for what? For his own dirty thoughts? Her slender shoulders roll in a slow shrug that makes her wince painfully, before shrugging it [not literally] off and licking at the melting cone again. Her gaze slides from Billy over toward James again and she smiles, lifting the back of one hand to wipe a dollop of melted cream from the tip of her nose.

"Y'all should hook up n'jam sometime. Billy here cin play th'guitar like he done sold his soul t'the devil."

She grins almost lazily between the two men, and lifts a hand to idly poke at her injured shoulder. Her gaze catching Rachel out of the corner of an eye before she looks away again, feet still kicking idly to the beat of the country music filtering through the open windows of the truck.

Rachel Watson

Wed 07:36PM CST
The sound of country music blaring out the old pickup draws the girls attention, and as she passes on her way into the shop she gives the truck and it's occupants a long glance, not the snotty glare of most city folk, but a familiar look. Accompanied by a nod in greeting.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Wed 07:39PM CST
As Evie's car pulls up, and she watches the woman [certainly not a girl] slide smoothly out from inside, her open and innocent gaze shadows just a touch. Ice cream is licked almost vehemently for a moment as uncertainty rifles through her. City women make her feel just plain... plain. Ain't no way she could pull off that kind of sex appeal in a few simple gestures. Ain't no way. All the same, she lifts a hand and waves toward Evie with a smile. Her cone almost depleted enough to let the melting cream simply form in the cup of the cone itself rather than have it drip and flow down the back of her hand and arm. The distraction of Evie's arrival had drawn her cornflower blue gaze away from Rachel, though not before she cast a friendly nod of her own in the overdressed girls direction with a smile.

"Hey Evie."

Her boisterous tones seem a bit more sedate in the womans presence. Not quite as confident and free, but a bit more reserved.

James Wagner

Wed 07:48PM CST
The Sandman didn't notice Evie's arrival. He wasn't much paying attention. In fact, he was busy seating himself on the curb and finishing his bottle of SoBe.

Billy McCann

Wed 07:49PM CST
Hands folded into the front pocket of his jeans. Billy leans forward, shifting his stance to follow the line of Jodi Lynn's glance. Looks back at his cousin, looks back at Evie. Glances at James and don't smile none, like someone should if they's makin' a joke. Maybe he's danged serious, then. "Me an' Robert Johnson. Off to the crossroads. 'Cept I done it fer pickin' banjo." Steps round the end of the truck and sets his hand down heavy beside his cousin, stands close and waits until he has her attention. Leans forward and sets his mouth near to her ear, says something, then steps back. Nods his farewells without hardly a backward glance. Without explanation or a word.

Whispered: "Don't let no damn citygirl turn you off like that. You's prettier than the lot of 'em, and a right sight better-minded, too."

Evelyn 'Evie' Bryant

Wed 07:51PM CST
[…remember how the water called to you Evie?…]

She feels her skin prickle in response to the thoughts as she nears both the docks and the trio hanging about the truck. She’s about half way across the street by now when Jodi Lynn’s voice snaps the quivering hold her memories had begun to place upon her. She turns, spots them all and it’s with a few short steps that she’s arriving in a cloud of vanilla. Lifting a hand to adjust the strap of her bag and to wave a little.

“Hi there Jodi Lynn, James and…Billy, I believe it was?”

She says in a soft rush, as though breathless from running, and not simply winded from the ghosts of what she might have done, what she might have been, had not circumstances altered so quickly that night here at the docks.

[…sweet absolution beneath the waves…]

She smiles a little, eyes dropping to flicker over James, lingering on the bottle and then she’s lifting her eyes, they seem to darken a little, perhaps self doubt kicking in as Billy proceeds to leave.

[…she’s tainted.]

fishing for a fight

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 05:32PM CST
It took her all morning, but she got all the caked mud off the rusted old Ford pickup she drove into the city. Unfortunately, a truck she thought was all blue when she bought it, turned out to be orange, with blue touch up paint in large patches along the sides. The diesel engine has an exhausted sounding growl to it as she pulls to the curb, pebbles pop beneath the tires as she puts the truck in park. Glancing across the front seat at Cody, she gives him a wink and her customary wide grin before turning off the engine and tugging the keys from the ignition.

"Well, here we are Code, where's this fishin spot y'were talkin 'bout?"

In the box of the truck a pair of fishing poles sway back and forth over a tackle box. Ready to go with lures and all. In the cab of the truck she reaches across her cousin toward the glove box, extracting a John Deere mesh cap and tugging it on over her brow.

Arabella Eberstark

Mon 05:48PM CST
There were two places Bella frequented in the Riverfront district... well three, but the outdoor ice rink wasn't in operation in the summertime for obvioous reason... but she'd spent the afternoon after her time with her tutor and ballet teacher, and ended up relaxing over a cup of fancy coffee at Crazy Wisdom. Their teashop [which served more then just tea as she'd found out] was a nice place to while away time.

Then the phonecall and she was happy wo hear of an invitation for...fishing... that was something she'd never done before, and told Billy so. It didn't stop her and thus, she walked the short distance from the shop to where he'd said to meet. She'd already been out in a sundress and hoped it wouldn't become a problem for this activity.

Cody McCann

Mon 05:48PM CST
Jo and Cody are less than a year apart in age. When they were young their Mamas would go shopping together and swore how they talked to each other in the stroler. When they got older their 'talking' consisted of Jo' eating alot of dirt when Cody pushed her down [Cuz no one wants to be SEEN playing with girls.] Its never really changed until high school, and testosterone coupled with the rather <.i>natural urges of a young garou to rip off the monkey edged face of some pissant mothafucker stupid enough to sniff around his family. [Because Fianna are ALL aboout family..] Time changes all things, but some things are older even than that. Genetic code, or something like it.

Either way the youth lifts a brow at the grinning girl, nostrils flaring briefly. "Try not t'smile so much jo. Y'gonna scare away th'fish."

Same ole' Cody.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 05:54PM CST
Cornflower blue eyes roll mirthfully as she laughs and pushes the drivers side door open with a rusty wail of hinges.

"If'n the pearly white glint'a my teeth don't scare'em off, then yer smell ought t'do th'trick."

Before swinging the door shut she reaches into the cab of the truck to roll up the window [no power locks for this country gal] a free hand tugging the cap from her head and the other scooping shoulder length dark blonde locks into a makeshift ponytail to be tugged through the back of the cap as she replaces it. Cowboy boots hit the asphalt with a clack as she steps aside and swings the truck door shut with another wail of hinges, then moves around to the box of the truck, bending forward and reaches out to snag the fishing poles.

"Make yerself useful and grab that there tackle box would ya."

Her plain white [stained in places] t-shirt is tugged back and tied into a knot at the small of her back, hitching it up and exposing her smooth midriff over the waist of worn cut off jeans.

Cody McCann

Mon 05:59PM CST
In reponse Cody blinks at her and lifts an arm and to a perfunctory sniff. Needlessly he lifts the other for a cursory inspection and for a few seconds manages to sit there quite befuddled before shouldersa drop and eyes narrow. Cody's right hand already pushing the door open, "Shoot. C'n make funna me all y'want. But t'ain't right to make funna man's deodarant." His head shakes in sympathy with his mock-hurt comments pulling the tacklebox from besides Ryan's sleeping form.

Wake him?
[...cody's foolish - not DUMB.]

Billy McCann

Mon 06:00PM CST
It ain't no more than a depression in the park, a place where the riverwalk opens outward like as if on a low delta island. The jogging trail that don't no one use because they's too many homeless and too many dangers riverside after dark still gets some activity of folks who can stand the smell of the river in summertime walking at lunchtime. The bowed out park has a few volleyball courts and other things that don't no one use too much because the city ain't got the cash to fix 'em up after the river rises sloshing up its banks ever spring. Someone cleaned off the benches, though. Probably convicts or somethin' like 'em. More than that, some McCann figured out that the back eddy stuck up afront of the manufactured flat is about as good a fishin' hole as anything in the whole dang city. Trees and shit, wild grasses, even cattails is growing on the verge of the pond, but the boys has tramped down a good place to set awhile with a cooler.

Billy's already got hisself a pair of chairs there, and a cooler, and two sets of gear, and his guitar stashed up down there but at the moment he's up near the road. Lifts a hand waving to Jodi Lynn and Cody as they come on by - warm day, nothing better than to set a spell and fish - but his attention swings up behind them, down the street aways. Hands hang loose at his side, body slouches too, but his attention don't slack none from the Silver Fang girl a'walking pretty as a picture in her sundress. Doesn't seem much like he's looking at the dress, though, the way he's watching her. Pale eyes, steady gaze unwavering. She comes up and he tips her a nod. "Glad you could come on out Miss Arabella. I wasn't sure you was gonna. Ever been fishin' before?" Waits until she's drawn up near beside him, then steps to her side. One large hand rises almost beneath her elbow, steering without quite touching. "Down the steps there. Then the sidewalk at the bottom, then we'll rough it about fifteen feet to the edge of the river."

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 06:05PM CST
Jodi Lynn chews her lower lip for a moment as she peers into the box of the truck at Ryan, and then glances with raised brows toward Cody. She watches him make the same considerations as herself, and then rolls her shoulders in a shrug of agreement. Let sleeping dogs lie. However, she catches a glimpse of Billy, and then Arabella out of the corner of an eye and sets her index and pinky fingers into her mouth for a shrill whistle of greeting.

"Hey y'all!"

With her free hand she waves energetically toward the pair, and then smirks across the hood of the truck at Cody.

"That there's Ara-bella, Billy done gone and got hisself a crush."

Moving around the truck she joins Cody and starts toward the fishing spot the McCann boys have picked out. Cowboy boots scuffing over the ground as she goes. One hand carrying two fishing poles, the other with a thumb hooked through a belt loop on her shorts.

Arabella Eberstark

Mon 06:09PM CST
She smiles, bright and cheery as the sun which occasionally deigned to peek from behind the random fluffy cloudbanks as she spotted Cody, a glimpse of Jodi telling ehr this was a group McCann clan outing. She tucked a curl behind one ear, sparkly hand beaded earrings dangling there today, a far cry from her diamonds or other such things. She rather liked them, a charming purchase at a local shop actually. But she drew up to Billy's place and stopped, glad she'd worn the flat sandals today instead of heels and that vivid green gaze fixed on him. "No I haven't, actually... I've gone hunting, but not fishing oddly enough, and we have a lake on our land..." She pondered why it was she'd never actually gone fishing. She'd certainly gone swimming before...

Jodi's whistle getting a wave back as she chuckled. "Jodi's certainly exuberant... and I wasn't busy anymore, so thought this might be fun. Help me relax from lessons." Its summer and the seventeen year old has lessons, every day of the week usually, filling morning and sometimes afternoon with subjects many and varied in context. Walking with him for the chosen spot she nodded as he explained the path. "i'm glad I chose my flats, though if I'd known sooner I might not have opted for a sundress." Thin quilted cotton with tiny sprigs of flowers in burghundy and navy and emerald.

Cody McCann

Mon 06:14PM CST
Pure.
BREED.

Can smell that kinda a breedin a mile in each direction. Its enough to make a man stand straighter, breathe deeper an appreciate. Eventually his eyes narrow onto the piece and recognition though slow-coming eventually flickers, "Hey thats the Piece of--" blink. His brow wrinkles briefly as a grin of PURE UNCONTAMINATED INNOCENCE swtrected across his oversized mouth. "Architecturual--" A blink to billy for help. "of the uh.. female form in flesh. Yeah." His head drops to his shoues whle the mitt of his left hand rubs against the sunburnt skin of neck.

Women.

Billy McCann

Mon 06:18PM CST
Billy shoots Jodi Lynn one of his flat stares. Expressionless except for where his mouth twitches up at the corner. Seems like not even the serious brother is immune to his cousin's infectious enthusiasm. He looks back over Arabella's shoulder. Doesn't hurt that looking back brings him closer to the willowy girl, gets him a whiff of her with her coffee still scenting in her hair and something finer beneath it that he can't name but that gets him hard in the gut. His hand brushes Arabella's elbow accidentally on purpose as he winks at Jodi Lynn. That's about as close to a yee-haw as Billy McCann ever does get, unless he's drunk. Hmmm. Maybe he's a little drunk. "Fishin' ain't too hard if you've done been hunting. An' if we ruin yer dress, well," he pauses two steps behind her. Only room really for one on the steps, and he needs to get himself a good look to frame the picture before he steps back to her side at the bottom of the stairs. Right arm almost around her, right hand almost cupping her right elbow, but he don't never touch her. Just guides her along. "I'm'a buy you a pretty new one. I'm glad you done wore it, though." If he is drunk, he ain't slurring his words. His voice is near bout the same as always, low and a little rough. His mouth near her ear. "Now I'm gon' tell you a secret about fishin that my daddy never did tell my ma."

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 06:19PM CST
Jodi Lynn simply smirks at her cousins show of down home etiquette, a chuckles starting deep in her belly and welling up in her chest as she leans the fishing poles against one of the chairs Billy has sitting nearby.

"Hey Ara-bella, glad ya'll could make it out fishin. I got some nightcrawlers in the tackle box, sure t'have the fish a'bitin in no time a'tall."

Reaching up she tucks a stray strand of dark blonde beneath the green mesh of her John Deere cap, easing herself into one of Billy's chairs as she pulls a fishing rod into her lap and starts to untangle the line that got twisted up on the ride over. Cornflower blue eyes sweep the waters surface as though judging the best spot to drop a hook into.

"Where they bite at most Billy?"

Cliona Murran

Mon 06:24PM CST
It’s a walk from the Caern and hours spent in meditation that sends the Irish lass down the walkway that flows and ebbs in leisurely curves beside the river that does the same. A smaller lass then most would expect – given Will’s propensity for exaggeration about her prowess and the many times he’s saved her from her own folly – just barely topping a decent 5’4” – maybe 5’5” if she stretches a little, and slender – lean proportions and not an ounce of wasted flesh anywhere on her. When surrounded by rage machines that are often much, much bigger then she, it’s very easy to blend in, to not stand out.

Her hair, her breeding, her accent, however – these are things not so easily hidden. Jeans, tank top, well worn boots, and that battered backpack slung over her shoulder, hands are tucked into denim pockets, and a flick of her jaw sends two-toned hair back over her shoulders where it hangs freely. Natural red atop, a dark dark black that seems some fashion choice de jour, or a dye job grown out or simply gone wrong, it’s thick and lush, and frames a face her gram used to say was born of pixies. Pale blue gaze flicks lazily under red-toned lashes as she watches ahead of her, and simply wanders on.

Arabella Eberstark

Mon 06:25PM CST
She glances Cody and Jodi's way, but simply smiles, friendly and open for the most part. Those things she never spoke of didn't impinge on the moment though, because there were something one bore alone or amongst family. Thank you Aurich for that lesson...

"I'm glad you like it. I do too... and its comfortable on warm days like today. I had ballet earlier so I hate wearing tight things afterwards. Those leotards are..." Her exagerated face for her studio attire was comical, still traced in charming that Bella does so well. She preceded him down the stairs as they headed for the fishing spot. It was his last whisper which had her slow down, and move so her own lips were near his ear. He could catch the scent of her time in the teashop, coffee, tea, and all her, as well as a light sandalwood touch. Crazy Wisdom was always burning incense... but regardless ot that she whispered back to him. "A secret? Oooohhh... you have my complete attention Billy." Her voice making even simple words sound refined.

Ryan McCann

Mon 06:31PM CST
Maybe he was drunk. Maybe he should've been drunk. Probably really was asleep in the back of the pickup, but that was hard to say. Ryan really doesn't sleep much, in fact the Eldest McCann seldom slept at night. He spent most of it hanging out with four best friends: Jack, Jim, Johnny, and Jose!

A loud snort issues from flaring nostrils, breathing in the air around him. Water, grass, fish, Cody's deoderant, and.. purebreed. Tongue rolls over to wet dry cracked lips, tasting the sweat just above his upper lip. He swallows a few times as his throat felt parched. One eyelid cracks up, pulling a large hand up to shade his eyes.

Perspiration runs in small sweat droplets along his brow, dampening dark hair along his forehead. Hard, chiseled features weathered by the sun and facial stubble, contort into a brooding mask.

grunt. snort. grunt. grunt... just like some ornery old boar woken up by piglets.

Barefeet bang against the metal of the truckbed as the eldest pulls himself up, stretching out muscular arms up behind his head. He blinks a few times, squinting his eyes away from the sun. Ryan looks around until his gaze fixes on his nylon bag. He reaches over, stuffing a hand inside to find his sunglasses. Tattered Oakleys whipped out to pull them over his face, a hand runs through his semi-long hair, letting it brush away from his cheeks. He locates his flipflops, pulls them on and stands up in the truckbed.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 06:32PM CST
A grin that spreads near ear to ear brightens her plainly pretty features as she sits waiting for Cody to hurry up with the tackle box. Bright blue eyes watch as Arabella leans into Billy to hear his 'secret' and she barely keeps herself from chuckling aloud. How many country girls have fallen for that old 'I've got a secret for you' trick. Her fishing hook pinched between thumb and forefinger, she leans back in the chair by the water, watching her cousins and Ms. Arabella approach with a lazy smile on her lips. Feels almost like home down here by the water, waiting for the McCann clan.

"Hey y'all, fish ain't gonna wait all day fer us t'get our hooks in th'water."

Loud and abbrasive, her voice has a country twang, though it isn't in the least bit malicious or aggresive. It's just a product of her raisin...farm life can get pretty loud sometimes.

Billy McCann

Mon 06:32PM CST
"This time a'day?" Billy flicks Jodi Lynn a glance as he and Arabella come through the high rough gross to the edge of near-still pool, protected by a lick of reclaimed land and surrounded by trees rippling with leaves until you near about can't tell that you's in the city. He doesn't take the Fang too close to the water, though, just stops where the ground starts leaking wet beneath their feet. "See up under that stand of trumpet vine and shit, just this side of the blackberry canes?" His eyes half-close, squinting against the glare of the sun on the near still water. "This time'a day, up under there. They's a little shade all afternoon, but I ain't too sure we's gon' get anything so late. Best would be early morning, when they ain't too damn overheated t'eat. Still, if anyone kin get herself a fish near bout afternoon in a hot pool, it'll be you Jodi Lynn." His chin falls lower again, listening to Arabella's whispered reply. Hard features near split into a smile again, just a little one, private-like. "Alright, 'cept you should know I'm breakin' a long-standin' pact of the McCann menfolk in even tellin' you this, Miss Arabella. I hope you is conscious of the clear honor I am doin' you." His hand brushes her shoulder, three fingers steadying. Lowers his voice. "Fishin's jest an excuse to git away from the house an' drank beer with yer brothers."

Cody McCann

Mon 06:37PM CST
Billy N'Arabella..

And then he's wanderin past towards the fishin hole his GOOD eye set on Jodi as if something might-could come up out of the water n' pull her down if he were to be lax on his guard (...dog..) duty. "Like yer shoutin's gonna make em jump outta th'water any faster?" Like heckle and Jeckle those two - only these days they didn't break off into blows. Not unless Cody wanted to get the snot beat out of him again - bu his BROTHERS, sheesh. NOT the girl, as if! Tongue slides over his teeth as a single hand settles onto one of the folding chairs to drag into backwards before a beer is swiped from the cooler. It was fairly obvious Cody wasn't much of a fisherman...

Mostly he came just in case.
[..tales are everywhere.]

Tucker Riley

Mon 06:39PM CST
The walk over is a slow trot. Tired from a full day of loading and unloading the crates, boxes, bags and other various cargos from the boats down on the docks. There's a light sheen of sweat over his form, darkening a bit on the collar of his t-shirt. That thin material sticking obtusely to his form rising and falling slowly with his breath.

It's not like he can't feel the purebreed in them, or the comparative lack of, in the case of himself and the sivler fang baroness. The young scion of house wyrm-foe, gutter trash fallen in a sea of his own addictions and personal demons [can you see it in my eyes.] Looks quietly on toward the group, thirty yard or so from the spot where he's standing next to the railing that aligns the walking path. [Waiting.]

"The hell is she doin'...?" Rage [not your place.] spills over him as he continues that slow trot away from his standing post [our spot.] toward the group.

Arabella Eberstark

Mon 06:39PM CST
Bella was as far from 'country' as one might get, though the naivete that was similar lingered. She'd been raised under different standards of conduct and sheltered from many things of the boy/girl dynamic of socialization. Blame that on big brother being over protective. She was merely playing along with Billy's 'secret' game... his revelation getting an overly dramatic widening of the eyes at the -honor- and a chuckle. "I see... and thats what you and the Clan McCann will be doing today?" She was amused. These little gatherings, conversations, pinpoints in an otherwise busy and melancholy time were lightening. Hard to keep ahold of the sadness with these Fianna.

She stopped where Billy indicated, not close to the water, and making sure she wasn't going to get damp feet over the thin edges of her sandals as she watched the other's gather and prepare.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 06:40PM CST
"Well Yee Haw!"

Jodi Lynn rises out of the chair and sets the butt of her fishing pole against the spongey ground, waving back toward the pickup.

"It's dawn'a the livin dead up there."

She juts her cap bill toward Ryan as he stands in the bed of the truck, her ponytail swaying as she waves at the eldest of her cousins with an all american smile on her plainly pretty features. After the exhuberant greeting toward Ryan, who may or may not join them down by the water in his own good time, she glances down at Cody with an audible snort. Playful, familiar, she claps him on the shoulder with her free hand and nods toward the tackle box.

"How 'bout ya pull them worms out and slip a big'un on my hook while I grab a beer fer m'self."

Without awaiting his inevitable denial of the task, she thrust the fishing pole toward him and then crouches beside the cool to lift its lid.

Cliona Murran

Mon 06:41PM CST
It isn’t hard to hear the McCann clan doing what they seem to do best in the very short time she’s known them – having a good time, hootin and hollarin. All told, it makes a lass feel at home, it does, though the accents are different and the faces aren’t the same, the breeding is, and there’s a comraderie that she shares with her own lads.

She misses Aoife. She misses Bren. That boy was always good for a laugh, even if it near tore her right in half listening to him talk about her.

Steps slow slightly as she draws neared to the Truck, in time to see the bed give birth to what surely can only be another Brother. Good gaia, just how many o’them were there?

And then. Well, well well. Look around for weeks and weeks and here he is just trotting right up behind her. A shift of weight, easily, as she turns to watch Tucker trot closer, and reddish brow lifts toward reddish hair. Finally, deceptively mild. “Tucker. A word wit’ye?”

Ryan McCann

Mon 06:44PM CST
Loud and abbrasive, scarred shoulders rolled up as he flinches under the teen's voice. "Christ.." he exhumes in a gruff voice, under his breath. A swivel of his head and deep-set eyes, a muddy-brown color, locate where everyone else had wandered off to.

Billy with some pretty little thing, another flare of his nostrils [Fang...] Another grunt echoed in his throat, Ryan bends down to zip up the bag. He shuffles over to the edge, braced large hands on the side of the truck. Sinewy muscles coiled up along his bare arms and shoulders, legs pulled up as Ryan pivots his body, cleanly vaulting over the side of the pickup and landing on his feet.

He grunts again at Jodi's exuberant greeting, head swivels around to look at the young ones, before flicking his gaze off to Billy's wooing. He shakes his head, strolling off towards the edge of the water where Cody and Jodi sat.

Tucker Riley

Mon 06:45PM CST
"Make it quick, but yeah." Midwestern non-accent with that strange mix of a texas drawl and a jersey shorthand answer the Irishwoman. Turning on his heel to face her. [Always time for the rest later.]

"What's up, Rusty?" Seems like she's always got somthin' on her mind, but hell, he's gonna be tribal elder in a few moons so buisiness is somthing he know he'll need to learn.

Billy McCann

Mon 06:49PM CST
"Well, that's more or less so. Cept that was more so back when we was livin' at home, see." Billy's just standing beside her. He ain't making no move for one of his poles. Ain't grabbing his guitar, battered case propped against a young willow tree hungry for the water's edge but far enough away to keep the instrument dry. He just stands real close and watches his brothers and cousin with his unwavering gaze, with the serious face that hides the bone deep affection he has for the lot of 'em. "Here, it's more like, well - " Gaze slides from the others back to Arabella's face. Watching the subtle changes of expression that drift across her young features like clouds. " - look up an' around you. Don't even seem like you're in the city no more, does it? They's the sky an' it reflects itself in the river and back again, and they's bits of things what wanna grow, an' the trees is thick, ain't manicured, struggling for place. They eat up some of that ashy scent you get in your throat of the city. I know the river don't smell none too good but - " His hand slides from her shoulder to beneath her elbow. Directing her glance the otherway, to a stand of honeysuckle rioting with yellow and white blooms. " - they's other things to smell 'sides the river."

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 06:49PM CST
Peering back toward the truck as she was, her cornflower blue eyes caught hold of Cliona and held for a time as she squinted against the sunlight.

"Hey Billy. Ain't that th'irish broad from th'pub last night?"

She motions toward the Fianna and her companion [Tucker] haphazardly as she pulls a bottle of Coors Light [picked that out herself] from the cooler and twists off the cap. Glancing toward Arabella, she tugs another Coors Light from the cooler [women's beer] and twists the cap off, jutting the bottle out toward Arabella with a grin.

"Somethin t'wet yer whistle with there Ara-bella. Ask any McCann brother'n they'll tell ya fishin is thirsty work."

She gives the Fang girl a wink and a smile, tipping her own bottle to her lips and taking a long swallow.

Cliona Murran

Mon 06:51PM CST
A very unladylike snort (Jodi Lynn, likely, would be proud). “I’ll b’takin all th’time I need, Tucker, and ye know it.” She lets the nickname slide, this time, as she moves across, one step, two, and settles slender hips that swell just enough to suggest good ‘breeding hips’ – always assuming Will’s quick save of breedin bits at Pyrell and the resultant healing got her all put back into one working piece again.

There’s a glance over her shoulder, before that gaze rests solely on Tucker. The world could be empty but for the two of them for all she cares at the moment. “been lookin t’talk to you for some time now. Th’be a wee rumor goin round that I need clarification on. And yerself, ye need t’take care o’before I do meself.”

Arms cross under swell of breasts, her gaze still steady, and it dinna take a genius to feel that crackle of Rage that suggests the mild-mannered Spirt Talker isn’t happy. At all.

Point blank. “What happened in NYC.”

Cody McCann

Mon 06:51PM CST
"Tch."

His nose wrinkles as she nudges his arm and exhaling that long-suffering sigh [Our poor St. Christopher himself must has had a lighter load.] he crouches over the tackle box opening up a small carton filled with a small dark handful of pasta that wiggled - that'd be the bait. If he wasn't sittin next to jody this would be PRIME invitation for a prank - and sometimes fate sees fit to answer such mischievous thoughts.

Cody's head lifts to take in the image of his eldest brother Ryan. [ Begin symphonic background music..] The Biggest, the oldest, the baddest, Ryan cpould take on aan ENTIRE pack of BSD with one hand and both eyes closed! WEll, yeah Ryan's kinda annoying that way -- but sometims you had to admit it was pretty cool.

Grin.
"You catchin' us some grub Ry?"

And the night crawler is speared on Jodi's hook.

Ryan McCann

Mon 06:55PM CST
He looks back over his shoulder, casting a dark look to the truck and the two occupants that showed up. None of them registered in his mind, he continues on over to the 'kids', pausing near Cody to eye his youngest sibling.

"Lil' late to be fishin' don'tcha think? Sun's way up high, might not catch shit," he looks at one of the untouched poles, leans down to grab one up and inspects it. He gives it a good look over, his head half-cocked to keep one eye on the two behind him. He turns a bit, just to keep Jodi in his sights as well.

"Cody, who's that over there." a casual nod of his head towards Cliona and Tucker.

Ryan McCann

Mon 06:56PM CST
to Cody McCann, Billy McCann: Totemphone: We got company.. somebody know who these yokels are?

Arabella Eberstark

Mon 06:57PM CST
Billy spoke truly, as she looked around. It really didn't look much like the city, with its perfectly manicured parks [courtesy of county beautificayion projects] and concrete jungle. She preferred some of the wilder stretched of Doenhoff but this was still nice. Peaceful... she might not be one for exploring far from civilization but some change was good. "Its lovely here, despite the little cons. [river smell mainly] How did you find it?"

She smiled a touch more for the honeysuckle and was distracted by Jodi, shaking ehr head at the offer of a beer. "No thank you, Jodi Lynn... despite last night, I really don't prefer to drink much, but thank you." Whatever happened to people asking first? She'd ended up with this entire pint last night which had nominally not been drained unlike the other McCanns. This is Bella afterall... who could imagine her sloshing through a beer anyways, pretty and elegant on the bank. Bella glanced where everyone seemed to be indicating, starting to wave some to Cliona and pausing... but yes, that was Tucker with the other. She completed the wave though and smiled more. He was so busy lately, with work and who knew what else. "Thats Tucker... he's a cousin of mine, you could say, and we're... well..." She blushes some. Being courted? "He's courting me." Finishes it off with a shy little smile.

Cody McCann

Mon 06:58PM CST
to Billy McCann, Ryan McCann: Totemphone: No clue on my end, Billy?

Cody McCann

Mon 07:01PM CST
Cody blinks up briefly past towards the two others, his shoulders rising fractionally even as his head lowers. Gaze flicks down to the nightcrawlers slid back into the carton before he looks up to Ryan again one brow raised.

"Wammie find out?"

Tucker Riley

Mon 07:02PM CST
"Aoife told ya then." And thank gaia he didn't see that fucker sniffin' on his girl.

But that was to be dealt with in a minute. Right now, all his attention is focused on the young woman in front of him. Younger than him, even. Even still, ten times younger by Garou standards.

"I killed 'im. He'd kidnapped Miriam, an' ya know as well as I do what the girl means t'me. So," He continues, calmly, almost to the point it's unlike him. "Ambrose an' I went t'get 'er. I walked, in gave 'im the chance to give me the girl an' let the Fianna here deal with 'im. He decided ta try an' kill me instead." He snarls now, not just in face but in his voice, a near explosion.

Lit fuse on a stick of dynamite that sound is.

"So, I killed the bastard, fer kidnappin' M an' fer what he did ta Aoife. That shit wasn't right!"

Gaze meets her eyes hard, challenging. "Is that gonna be a problem?" [What crawled up his ass and died?]

Billy McCann

Mon 07:03PM CST
to Cody McCann, Ryan McCann: The girl's Cliona Murran, the contact you was lookin' for. Guy's some Fang what's courting my Fang girl. Seems like Billy was gonna give the Fang a run for his money. Less someone else more interesting popped along in the meantime.

Ryan McCann

Mon 07:04PM CST
to Cody McCann, Billy McCann: Just...do me a favor. Where a condom..less ya wanna end up like me with a brood of kids. Beyond that, have fun with her. he snorts back over the link.

Billy McCann

Mon 07:07PM CST
Billy turns at Jodi's question. Ain't it a neat coincidence how once more he manages to keep close to the willowy Silver Fang. Corded body twists narrowly from the the waist as he turns, mouth near brushing against the girl's hair. "Yeah, that's the Irish girl." Arabella refuses the offer of a beer, so Billy takes it instead. Even if it is a girl's beer, Coors Light. Wipes the water dripping on the silver can off on his old jeans, turning the can round and round slow like so's not to shake it and fizz it up. Pauses, then, his eyes going far off as he hears something can't hardly anyone else sense. Draws his head back as he comes to so as to get a better look at Arabella's face. "Just wanderin' around. Don't take much, really. Just got to know where to look for the good thangs even in the middle of the bad. They's better places outside, but gas being what it is." Shrugs the thought off, flashes another brief, wide grin. Drops his mouth to her ear again, low-voiced and warm. "If'n he don't treat you right, you let me an' my brothers know. An' if'n you get tired a' his ways, well. You let me know."

Billy McCann

Mon 07:10PM CST
to Cody McCann, Ryan McCann: When've you ever had to worry about me 'n that. Anyway, bet the girl is loaded. If ever it gets that far, I'm sure her family kin keep the kid. Fer the moment, ain't no more'n an innocent flirtation. Billy had a thousand of 'em. One broke his heart. He broke the rest. That was the way of things.

Arabella Eberstark

Mon 07:13PM CST
Bella had made ineresting friends of late. Black Furies and Glasswalker and Fianna galoreamong others, and it made for interesting moments, seeing how they reacted or treated each other and her. Even on the outskirts of this family unit it was warm, and rather welcoming, filled with zest she missed.

Eyes going from where Tucker talked back to Billy, she blushed more, delicate pink color to highlight the smooth complexion even more. "I will." She chuckles though, something in the tone indicating she didn't think it would become necessary. Only time could truly tell but Bella was possessed of a trusting nature and compassion that left her without the mistrust some others might hold at bay within... at least now anyways. At least after their last, explosive fight, where she'd stopped being prim proper Bella to vent her truer feelings.

"If you want, some day you should come out to the riding stable where I keep my horse. Its outside of the main sprawl of Chicago." She liked having someone to ride with, or talk to, moreso of late.

Cliona Murran

Mon 07:15PM CST
“Aoife is dead.” Snapped. Flat, but there’s no denying the emotion behind it. She aches with the loss of one of her friends, and she aches even more for her lad, Smilin Bren. “An her retribution wasna yers t’take. An’ make no mistake, Tucker, ye know damn well that I know it weren’t for Aoife ye did shite. Was f’ye girl M.” She has her own opinion on this little kidnapping, since Ambrose was so very careful to avoid her questions, but other then that, she simply nods as Tucker continues on.

There’s a long silence at the end. There’s th’snarl, there’s the growl, there’s the challenge as she meets that gaze dead on. His rage crackles and clashes with hers own, though her voice is still so very mild. deceptively bland. “I dinna know, Tucker. Tis yer own call roight here, right now.”

A pause. In some other life the Spirit Talker may have been a Gallaird. But in truth, it is simply the Irish way. The Fianna Way. They are all story tellers, though some are better then others, and there’s the inherent way speech rolls of the tongue that speaks of bards and long nights of drinking, dancing, storytelling and fucking. Not necessarily in that order, or one at a time, either.

“See, here’s th’thing, Tucker. Ye did this months ago. Ye havena told a soul about it near as I kin tell, let alone th’once who should be informed. Such as th’council. And that poses a right big problem f’meself and m’lads, because that...” oh just fill in the blank. With. “..woman, th’GeeDub, has decided tis me own lads th’did this deed. She hasna attacked yet, but from what me sources say, tis right around th’corner.”

Pause.

“Tis nae me mess now, Tucker. Tis yer own. And if’n she lifts one lil pinky in m’direction, or that o’me boys, it will be a problem, and nae a wee one neither. Ye understand me lad?” He may be older in years – even in Garou years, but when it comes to the quiet honesty, the intensity of one who always acts with honor, it is she who has the control to continue in that nice even tone. No snarls. No growls. Just that mild tone, and lilting Irish accent.

Cody McCann

Mon 07:17PM CST
Cody just grins liftin his chin a bit. See, thats the thing with havin more'an one galliard in the family. One's always tellin on the other. "Yeah, he's tryin t'top my deadly mojo, baby." Deadly mojo?! That's right. And if you haven't heard the story of how Cody's sex-appeal nearly killed a girl, then yuo've had your head burried up an ostrich's ass way too long.

And Cody even effect the [...somewhat gay looking - 'The garou that shagged me.'] Austin Powers arm-stance complete with bent wrists and a twitching shoulders. "He's aimin for shagadelic.."

Tucker Riley

Mon 07:23PM CST
And at this moment, every terrible thought he's had about Cliona in the back of his mind, ever.

Is absolutely validated. "Glad ta hear ya think so much a' me and a fuckin' oath I make ta protect yer kin." Words are softer in volume, ut the edge is sharp. Muscles in his arms visibly tense and release. "I did it cause he was a spiral, r'at least on 'is way there. He had her locked up, naked beaten and alone," the words scream with their true meaning. [My ex. my best- no, my one true friend. My M."] "I told Aoife, was gonna tell everybody else next week, at the full moon. To get everythin' out in the open before I have ta step up to the Council. Leaders shouldn't hide shit like that."

Head shakes and he begins to walk away before turning toward Cliona. "She comes after you, just send 'er my way. I did nothin'. Wrong. here."

Back turned now, heading toward the fishing party. "Later Red."

This conversation.

Is.

Over.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 07:24PM CST
Having moved toward the spot Billy pointed out earlier, Jodi Lynn has her hook and worm in the water, listening to the conversations going on over her shoulder. Cornflower blue eyes sliding over the smooth flowing surface of the water, watching for ripples. A beer in one hand, and fishing pole in the other. The beer she had opened for Arabella is set on the ground near her feet, having given Arabella a pleasant 'suit yerself' in reply to her denial of the drink. Now, she peers back over toward Cody and Ryan with a wry smile and a shake of her head.

"Yer deadly mojo. Shee-it Cody."

With a chuckly she shakes her head again and follows it with a long swallow from her beer, glancing back toward the pickup where Cliona and Tucker stand. Watching from beneath the bill of her John Deere green mesh hat as the fella strolls on down toward them.

"In comin."

Ryan McCann

Mon 07:25PM CST
Muddy-brown eyes roll up to the sky, "Mama help me... he'll be Elvis impression next." he cajoles at the baby of the family. The fishing pole in his hand set down by his foot, Ryan stands up, glancing over his shoulder again at Billy and the pretty Fang girl.

He feels the nightcrawler wiggling around in his closed fist, tilts his head down and looks at it. The grin widens even more. "Hey, Code," an arm shoots around to snare around the skinny shoulders of the boy, hauling him up to Ryan's scarred chest. "Feel up for a laugh?" his hand swings up, opening up his fist to show Cody the worm and jerks his head over at Billy, giving Cody a wiggle of his dark eyebrows.

If it was another thing about having five brothers, one of them was always doing something to the other to embaress them. Good thing they didn't have a ragabash in the family.

Billy McCann

Mon 07:26PM CST
Expressionless as near about always, Billy watches her. Sun's slanting longer now. Shadows are seeping deeper across the surface of the pool, but a shard of sunlight lights the pale sunfire blue of Billy's eyes and the deep brown skin around him. There ain't nothing soft about the look, there's a hard cord of flexible steel in the Fianna. It ain't never more clear than it is in his eyes. "I appreciate the invitation, Miss Arabella, 'cept I don't think I'd be a good'un t'have near horses. Maybe if'n you was t'ask Jodi Lynn t'go ridin' with you. Leastways she won't be scarin' th'horses." Folds his arms in front of him, looking at her sidelong now. Unreadable.

Cliona Murran

Mon 07:29PM CST
“Ye stoopid iijit. We dinna ask for ye oath – in fact, I asked for ye t’leave Aoife’s retribution to ‘er mate. And yeh dinna wait t’th’full moon. Ye tell th’ones who’s arse is on th’line. They come f’me and me lads and I’ll be coming f’yerself. when tis done and o’re with. Tis a promise.

Ye did wrong in nae admitting ye took care o’him when ye did to his Tribal Elder. Ye are still a child, Tucker Riley, a fookin child. Ye tell th’council. Or I will.”

A shake of her head, and a slow smirk as she returns her gaze to the now empty space before her. He declares it over. She declares the last word. A moment, and she too stands, and resumes her walk, with a wave toward Bella, and th’Clan McCann.

Arabella Eberstark

Mon 07:30PM CST
"Oohh.. yeah." She blushes some to veen forget it, but really, Rage became like harsh whitenoise she was aware of and yet, somehow tuned out to a degree. It came of having five brothers of her own, and tagging along after the eldest [dear Aurich...] and his pack for years. "Aurich never could either... and I really just... well I forgot. Perhaps Jodi then." There went her idea to help liberate Billy and maybe some of his family from the concrete jungle for a few hours.

Pink really was a good color on her. It might be why her mother loved dressing her baby girl [her only girl] up in it for social events. Movement catches her eye and vivid green gaze leaves Billy to see Cliona's wave, which was returned, and Tucker's angry approach.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 07:32PM CST
Jodi Lynn catches the wave from Cliona and she half turns lifting an arm to return the wave with a holler.

"Hey Clee-ona, how y'all doin?"

Tipping her Coors light to her lips she takes a long swallow then shouts again.

"Y'all wanna come'n do a bit a fishin with us?"

Cody McCann

Mon 07:35PM CST
Love.
Love.
Love

--your eldest brother. See, thats the thing about big families rivalries happen with the siblings closest to you but by the time you get to be more than three years apart - it changes the relationship somehow. The thin [ by comparison..] shoulder forward and somehow that slippery black bait changes hands before cody shrugs the grip off. "Ey, man cool it. My mojo don't go-go that way--" A wagggle of the brows before he grabs up beer exxageratedly shaking his bony ass from beneath the oversized hand-me-down denims.

"Ey, jodi - you know how it go-goes."

Life's just a blast.
Its movin really fast.
Better stay on top...

And Cody's making his way to Arabella and Billy.

Billy McCann

Mon 07:37PM CST
Billy turns in about near time with Arabella's turn around. Pale eyes flicker up the bank and over the stormin' normin' Silver Fang. Studies up on him a minute, but they's somethin' else in the catch and timbre of the pretty girl's voice that catches his attention. Arms fall from the knot in front of him to swing loose at his side, and he leans down to Arabella again. She might not see it, but she can feel the weight of his attention. The close study of the curve of her cheek and the sweep of her lashes against her skin. The edge of green eyes, half-shadowed at the end of the day. "Aurich's the one you're missing." He don't say it like it's a question. He says it like its a fact. Like he knows the weight of sorrow, how it opens up in your throat and don't ever let go: that's the power of a Fianna Galliard. That much in a bare few words. By god if there isn't near about a catch in his voice, too, as he done says it. Nevermind that there's a Fang on the way in. Nevermind that they's two brothers and a cousin making mischief behind. Near enough that the world could stop and split apart: a moment of clear and clear-eyed understanding.

Cliona Murran

Mon 07:41PM CST
There’s a pause in her steps at Jodi’s holler, and she can’t help the chuckle. She lifts a hand then, and with a shrug, she follows the trail downwards so as not to have to holler the distance. “I dinna have much time right now, lass, but thank’ee for th’invite. Ye catchin anything?”

Gaze shifts slightly, watching Tucker’s barreling all but charge Billy and Arabella, she shifts a bit to note the places of everyone else, before crouching near by Jodi’s chair. “So these th’rest o’yer family is it?”

Kemp Oates

Mon 07:43PM CST
Flying through the streets with the wind tugging at clothing, snapping shirt back. Hair tangling where it stuck out from beneath the helmet. Honda roaring beneath him. Each lean of his body taking him around a car or truck. Nothing could compair to flying along as fast as he could, not even sex. Besides, the bike didn't keep score cards on his performance.

Tucker Riley

Mon 07:43PM CST
Now he's in full on, thug mode. And thank the young woman who's currently getting the finger while he walks away, back still turned. [You and yer boys...pffft. Come after me and what? Raid my liquor cabinet? Bitch.]

"Bella!" He calls down the bank trying not to sound to incredibly pissed.

Finally reaching the riverbank and looking at each of the Fianna around him. Unfortunatly enough it's one of those 'got a problem?' type looks, intentianlly or not. "Who're yer friends?"

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 07:43PM CST
Her attention is pretty averted from her fishing line in the water. Half turned toward the shore, she glances from Cliona to the approaching Fang with an expression of fleeting uncertainty. Her slender throat working in a swallow, before she glances at Cody with a mild chuckle. Her attention then goes to Billy and Arabella, Tucker's obvious target, smooth brow furrowing beneath the bill of her cap as she breaths a light sigh before swallowing down the rest of her beer. As Cliona joins her near the shore, Jodi smiles down at her and nods toward the open beer.

"Naw, not a nibble s'far, but we just started. Help yerself t'the beer there, was fer Ara-bella but she ain't much on drinkin."

Then she glances toward the three McCann brothers and grins.

"Most a thems here. But fer Morgan and Tommy, who ye met last night."

James Wagner

Mon 07:44PM CST
Once again James was roused from bed for some unknown reason, he later found himself on walkabout.

Ryan McCann

Mon 07:45PM CST
"BAH!" Ryan cuffs out a loud snort, his other hand shoots up to tousling the back of Cody's head as he shoves the boy away. He bends down to grab another nightcrawler, palming in his meaty hand and makes his way over to Jodi's chair to stoop over her.

He leans down to snatch up her bottle of beer, holding it up above her head to take a look at it. "What the fuck ya drinkin' this shit for, gal. Ain't nothin' but watered down snake piss," he's turning away as he speaks, his back to the others.

A quick slight of hand, too quick and that squished nightcrawler's getting slipped into Jodi's beer. Ryan pretends to take a drink from it, before handing back to Jodi. "here. Takes like shit." he growls out, moving away to the open cooler and grabbing himself a beer.

Arabella Eberstark

Mon 07:48PM CST
"Aurich was my brother... its very recent..." His passing, his death, Bella does not elaborate, her voice dropped to a quiet murmur, laced in truest feelings. The past tense does seem to imply that whatever has happened, it was permanent and she was minus one beloved oldere brother. It was a degree of respect back she explains for Billy, when she's been pretty closed with details on whats been dragging carefree Bella into melancholy nearly daily.

But someday, she'd forget this pain.... [and thats the deepest sorrow]

But her eyes dart up at oncoming [storm?] Tucker and smiles a touch. "Hell Tucker. Meet the McCanns, some freinds I've made recently. This is Billy," And she begins gesturing as she rattles off what names she knew, which means Cody and Ryan went unaccounted for.

Cliona Murran

Mon 07:50PM CST
[Well show ya raidin, bitch.] The thought in return to the oh so eloquent finger from the thug. A snort, and when she feels James waking up, a quick whisper of Crow’s black feathers. ~Down by th’river, lad. Fishin with th’McCann Clan. Had meself a wee talk with Tucker, now he’s on th’warpath and Th’boys are in his way. Come join th’party.~

To Jodi, then she nods, and reaches into the cooler for a beer, just about the same time Ryan does. A nod, a smile. “Slainte, lad.” Don’t be offended – she calls all her boys Lad, though she is the youngest of them all. They’re Alpha too. Let’s here it for girl power!

Then back to Jodi. “Thank’ee. Ne’re was one t’turn down somethin t’wet th’whistle, even when heading t’patrol.”

Ryan McCann

Mon 07:51PM CST
Cliona and Tucker have now caught the eldest McCann's attention, leveling his eyes upon the new pair. He crouches over the open cooler like a predator, muddy-brown eyes sliding back and forth quickly, waiting for something to provoke his ire. Large hand slips into the watered down ice, pulling up a can. He slips it down to his side, dropping that hand behind his back as he stands up.

Ryan walks away from the cooler, shaking up the beer behind his back. Casually, he watches, giving Cliona a nod up of his chin in greeting, "Hey, name's Ryan the eldest, that's billy and Cody, he's the baby of the brood." all the while, when that can's good and shook up, he's heading towards Billy.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 07:51PM CST
Reaching up she takes the bottle back from Ryan with a good natured laugh, swishing the fluid around inside it.

"Y'wouldn't know a good beer if it done went and pours itself down yer gullet."

Heedless of the implications of -any- McCann touching your beverage without finishing it off, she takes a long swallow of the nightcrawler beer, the long wriggling mass of it able to avoid being swallowed in the first gulp, but not the second. Her brow furrows as the slick worm hits her tongue, and then her throat constricts as the worm tries to wiggle down her throat. With a gag and a sputter, she spits out the whole mess with a yelp.

"You lime shit Ryan!"

Watching the worm wiggle around on the ground at her feet in a foaming pool of beer she curses and looks at the near empty bottle in her hand.

"Shoulda known betta."

Her tongue works around in her mouth for a moment before she snorts and spits a wad of saliva into the water nearby.

"Don't think I won't get ya back fer that."

The frown she levels on Ryan is a good natured one as she sets down the beer bottle and begins to reel in her line. He's in for it... in about thirty seconds.

James Wagner

Mon 07:51PM CST
So swing a little more, the more the merry'o.. On the devil's dance floor. He found himself sauntering down the streets of the Riverfront, occasionally lifting a flask out from his back pocket to take a swig of the dark liquor. He got the message, through clouded thoughts of waking up earlier, that Cliona was fishing. Heh. So of course he showed up at their little watering hole, without a fishing rod. A musician had no use for one these days.

Cody McCann

Mon 07:53PM CST
Slip - Slip - sliiiiide.

[They say I was was born under a pregnant moon...
But it was only filled with trouble.]


Cody is the smallest of the brother McCann, the right edge of his mouth always twisted upward in some half-assed grin that might just be a tick from bitrth. [Was cody ever NOT smiling?] Maybe its the lack of girth that makes it so easy to slip another arm [..as if one's not enough.] over arabella shoulders waggling brows at the blue blood.

"Your highness, My name is Cody McCann,
Squire of the clann at Hand -- "

Speaking of Clans and Hands, something seems to disappear from Cody's down arabella's back. Whoops. Cody takes a step backward now high cheekbones round in a full grin.

"I'd love to cordially invite you to our humble ball -- pull up a seat and worry not at all."

Cody: All the style of his ELDER brothers and MORE.

Billy McCann

Mon 07:54PM CST
There's a nod for Arabella. It's quiet, accepting. He don't push her to say more and don't dwell in her sorrow. Might not even if they wasn't some thug-actin' Fang flipping off the Fianna tribal elder and snortin' and bellowing. Billy crosses his arms again as Tucker approaches. Nods when his name is said, and then casts Arabella another look. This one's searching, hard as any other look he's given her. Otherwise, though, he's lettin' Ryan and Cody handle the innerductions and whatnot.

Billy McCann

Mon 07:55PM CST
to Cody McCann, Ryan McCann, Tommy McCann: Totemphone: Fang was flippin' off a Fianna. That ain't right.

Cliona Murran

Mon 07:56PM CST
She can’t help but laugh at the antics, and nods to Ryan, standing again. Dwarfed by th’lot of them, of course. “Pleasure, lad. Th’baby is he?” Just grins and lifts her beer to her mouth, taking a good half of it easily enough, then, as free hand tucks into denim pocket. “Met Billy, Tommy and JodiLynn here last night at me pub... rowdy bunch, glad ye all moved on inteh town..”

Cody McCann

Mon 07:57PM CST
to Billy McCann, Ryan McCann, Tommy McCann: Totemphone: not unless the fianna got the balls to do somethin about it. I foer one woul;dn't stand fer that shit.

Naw, Cody just took his lumps on the regular.

James Wagner

Mon 07:59PM CST
Seemed like the entire McCann clan was here tonight. Three of them he knew, one he did not. A few others he thought he recognized, but wasn't sure. Its been too long. However... Yeah. Time for a bit o'th'rough an' tumble.

He sauntered up behind Cliona, and abruptly threw his arm around her neck and drew her down, giving her one serious noogie.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 08:00PM CST
Once she's got her line reeled in, Jodi Lynn turns and her cornflower blue gaze sweeps over the crowd thats gathering on the river shore, and she thinks better [though barely] of trying to wrestle Ryan into the water for slipping a worm into her beer. Her gaze comes to rest on Tucker, and it isn't hard to see that he's got his jockeys in a bunch about something, and it would just be best if Ryan weren't dripping wet, should something go down.

"Yer lucky there's so many folks around Ryan, jes r'member. I know where y'all sleep."

She sends a pointed gaze in Ryan's direction, with a meaning grin as she stoops to pick up her bottle, checking it once for worms, and then pressing it to her lips to finish it off.

Tucker Riley

Mon 08:01PM CST
"Billy." Low, harsh. A nod toward the Fianna sitting far to close to Arabella. Friend my ass.

The pressures ease up as he takes the introductions from the oldest. "Good ta meet ya."

Then the little one starts talking. "That's not funny." Followed by putting his arm around arabella. Bad move.

Try. Not. To. Snap.

"Heard about yer brother. I'm sorry 'Bella." Respect carried in his words, even through the seething anger.

Cliona Murran

Mon 08:04PM CST
She’s grabbed and there’s snorted laughter as she swats at James. “Now is that any way teh be treatin ye alpha, lad? I know where ye sleep!” mimicing Jodi without really realizing it. Even if it’s just as fond as Jodi’s comment is for her cousin.

She pulls away and nods toward Ryan. “That there’s th’eldest, Ryan. Th’one who asked f’th’meet an greet. There’s Cody, th’youngest. and ye met Billy and Jodi here last night. And o’course, Miss Arabella.”

Quick, the introductions, while underneath rage seethes, boils, burns.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 08:04PM CST
Spotting James, Jodi Lynn adjusts her shirt, damp with spit out beer, and tips the bill of her John Deere cap toward him with a girlish grin.

"Hey y'all, come down t'try yer hand at fishin?"

She nudges Ryan with the curve of a denim clad hip, then deposits her empty beer bottle into a stack beside the cooler, to be discarded later, while she fishes out another, along with a bottle of Guinness from Cody's stash.

"Here y'are James, somethin t'wet yer whistle."

Arabella Eberstark

Mon 08:04PM CST
Bella doesn't answer because about the time she might reply to Tucker, or question that look from Billy she's giving a gasp and squirming. Something distinctly slimy is on her back... inside her dress. Eyes an impossibly wide set and she shoots Cody a look that could freeze Hell over. There is a cooler arrogant edge hidden under the friendly mien. She was Silver Fang afterall.

Despite what could be viewed as comical, Bella has an innate grace of movement that makes her jumping steps more of a dance, trying not to step into the water or closer to muddy bank edges... as she tried to extricate whateevr it was from ehr dress. "There. is. something. in. my dress.... that... that..." She is not amused by any stretch of the imagination... she's not even blushing.

She's getting angry.

Cody McCann

Mon 08:05PM CST
Ladies and Gentleman: Watch the the slippery slithery nightcrawler into the hand of the youngest McCann vanish without a sound or spec, as he talk to the raging blueblood and the even MORE dangerous older brother. Watch the slow recoil from tthe girl as both hands retire into his backpocketest, and the choreograpghed sliiiide-step move as he positions himself out of reach. Do not try this at home: Pranking is an ART form.

And if Cody can't stop smiling?
"Whats not funny, blue?"

We'll say he's enjoying annoying the goddamned Fang, nothin worse'n them but Get.

Kemp Oates

Mon 08:07PM CST
The roar of the bike blending with the blare of horns and occassional yell as he wings around cars, weaving his way down the street. A shifting of gears and he was around the corner. Fading sunlight glinting off the helmet.

James Wagner

Mon 08:08PM CST
A wink for Jodi, a clap on the shoulder for Billy and Tommy, and a respecting nod to Ryan and an outstretched hand. "Evenin', lad. James Wagner's me name. 'Eard ye was lookin' fer th'Elder. Ye found 'im, lad."

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 08:08PM CST
"Uh Oh..."

Jodi Lynn shakes her head as she looks toward the squirmin Arabella with a frown, setting down the two bottle before James can grab one, she marches toward the sundress clad girl, and without a thought shoves a tanned hand down the back of Arabella's dress. Strong fingers seek out the worm, and she tugs it free, without ever once revealing any parts of Arabella that shouldn't be revealed. With a shout she tosses the worm at Cody and settles her hands on her hips.

"That ain't funny Cody McCann, y'appologize t'the lady afore I black yer eyes out! Y'see she's wearin a nice dress an'all!"

Tommy McCann

Mon 08:09PM CST
The sound of another choppy engine coming up. The truck that pulls up probably hasn't had an oil change in a decade, and it was a wonder everything in there didn't just gunk up and solidify. The engine cuts and the door slams, and Tommy's heavy tread starts down the embankment. Biggest (but not oldest) of the brothers, slow and methodical in most his ways, Tommy surveys the setting and then sits on a crumbling piece of concrete, taking care to avoid the steel cables embedded within.

"Y'all done left me behind jus' 'cause I was takin' a nap," he grumbles to no one in particular. "Some family."

Clapped on one solid shoulder, Tommy nods to James, and then gets distracted by Jodi, Arabella and Cody. Maybe they'll all go a-mud-wrasslin'.

Tucker Riley

Mon 08:11PM CST
Funny thing is-

Erik always said he shoulda been Get.

"All that fake pompus ass shit. S'not the kinda guy I am kid." Still not quite making the connection between the new dance arabella's invented and the smirking jackass before him. Who, would no doubt hide behind the older ones at a moment's notice. Until of course Jodi clears it up for him.

Cody'll have to thank her for that later.

"The fuck did you put down'r dress?" Calm. Like a blizzard those steeley eyes meet the kid's directly making a play of dominance for the second time tonight. [And when the world won't leave you the hell be. You fight the world.] Voice could freeze hell like liquid nitrogen and at this very moment it's concentrating on the youngest McCann. "Apologize. Now." [The thug becomes the school yard bully, and right on cue-]

Cliona Murran

Mon 08:14PM CST
After the ultra quick whipsmack little Totem conversation, she nods, and then flashes Ryan an easy grin. “Got me patrols t’do lad. Ye tell Morgan and th’rest o yer family t’stop in on th’pub for drinks on meself some night again soon.”

Then she finishes off her beer, and with a chuckle toward the dancing Arabella and her suiters all, she turns and heads up toward the road again, passing Tommy on the way by with a little wave. “Slainte, lad.” before she’s moving right on by, and walking off to her Patrols.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 08:14PM CST
It's all fine and dandy for Jodi Lynn to curse and yell at her cousins, but when some stranger does it... its another story. Turning slowly on a worn cowboy boot heel, her hands already on her hips she peers at Tucker without the usual friendliness and all around hospitality she exhibits for most of mankind. Cornflower blue eyes glint and she cants her head to one side, pursing her lips.

"I think I already asked him t'appologize fella. Ya keep yer cussin t'yerself less y'offend the ladies present y'hear?"

Ryan McCann

Mon 08:15PM CST
"Leave Cody alone, Jodi, he ain't done nothing wrong. Just makin' the Princess feel at home is all." Ryan barks out over his shoulder, continuing to slink back towards the other two Fianna.

The amusement dies from his face as quickly as it had appeared, he focuses his attention on James now, extending a hand to grasp the Sandman's in a firm shake, which Ryan quickly pulls away. "Excuse me a moment." he says to James and Cliona.

The shaken beer can grasped in his hand as Ryan turns back around to stalk, literally stalk, right up behind Cody. Six feet and ornery as a Boar, he's glaring daggers at Tucker. "Chill out. Just a little fun is all." the heavy wash of a full moon's rage rolling off the eldest as he's just waiting for someone to prick his ill-temper. A little closer and more free with his anger than most.

Tommy McCann

Mon 08:15PM CST
Now. See.

There's something about the McCanns. You leave 'em alone and they're all at each other's throats half the time. Tumblin' around and ganging up on each other and fighting like puppies. But that's really how it is. Like puppies. Play-fighting.

And when outsiders intrude?
They lock ranks.

Tucker glaring at Tommy's little brother gets Tommy on his feet, right behind his big brother. Silent, he rather resembles a goddamn boulder lurking back there, an implicit threat clear in the folding of his arms across his chest.

James Wagner

Mon 08:17PM CST
"Glad t'ave ye in Chicago, lad," he said to Ryan but then nodded as he moved off, waving to Cliona's tight ass as she exited. He laughed at something unheard and nodded, but then turned to the gathering. Tucker was causing trouble again, but it looked like the McCanns could handle their own, so he folded his arms and looked around a moment.

Cody McCann

Mon 08:18PM CST
Cody blinks at Jodi.

"She was?!"

And then looks to the un-hopping [..unless you count mad..] Arabella a hand reaching up to scratch the skin against the back of his neck idly,"Oh yeah, uh--nice dress. Real-real pink y'know." --there is a fraction of contrition within dark colored eyes, a flickering fetus that dies stillborn under Tucker's bullying. Cody's jaw tightens...

--and then his brother comes up behind him. "Sheeit." Cody spits.. Still imagine the kinda complex you gotta have never gettin to fight fer yerself.

Jeez.

Billy McCann

Mon 08:20PM CST
The McCanns are locking ranks. Billy steps back from Arabella as Jodi Lynn takes care of the task better left to a girl anyway, and fixes the Silver Fang with a stare of his own when the kid starts threatin' his little brother. Then Ryan and Tommy are steppin' up to Tucker, and Billy glances at Arabella, near grabs her shoulder and pulls her 'round outta the way. Bending his head low to her ear as he does so, passing by Jodi Lynn and grabs her by the waist, too. Leads 'em through a narrow tangle of trees and shit. "Miss Arabella, I tole you we was rough ole boys, remember that? Well, that's jest Cody. You girls wanna go wait up by the truck 'til this all gets figured out? Wouldn't want no accidents, you know what I mean." Gives Jodi Lynn a look, flat as ever, and gestures a hard gesture away from the pond.

Tucker Riley

Mon 08:23PM CST
Than most. thna the guy in front of him. Not so much.

"Yer brother r'cousin r'what-the-fuck-ever s'got an apology t'make. And if he doesn't do it well..." He smiles a very, very nasty thing that describing as in fact, a smile would be ludicrous. Because it's fucking scary.

"I'd expect you ta back off an' let 'im take his lumps like the man he wants ta be."

Head cocks to the side. "Unless the two of you have a problem lettin him be a a gentleman?"

Then a quick look, over the shoulders of the other two, diminishing their importance by literally ignoring their existance for those few seconds. "Stay here baby. No reason to go anywhere."

The billy situation is one to be dealt with in a moment. [I one thought the old girlfreind started too much trouble? HA!]

Arabella Eberstark

Mon 08:26PM CST
She had that look of gratitude on her face for Jodi's assistance, the lack of slimey squirmy thing on her back a relief.

And then Hell began to break loose and her anger goes snuffed into other, less pleasant feelings. Watching the McCann's who she was getting friendly with form ranks against Tucker didn't help matters, nor the pranks [scorn] of Cody in it. She tried not to judge others simply by their Tribe... but too often she was judged by her own in the face of others.

She glanced at Billy as he pulled her back, wide eyed and wondering how to fix this mess. How had she caused this mess anyways? She was just trying to have a nice evening with Billy and Jodi... Pulling up short after a few feet from Billy. "No, Billy, I can't just go off there... I... maybe I shouldn't have come tonight. I don't think everyone likes seeing me as much as you or Jodi does." Eyes dart towards Tucker and she looks pained.

She wishes Aurich was here still...

James Wagner

Mon 08:26PM CST
He just rolled his eyes at Tucker, and went to see if he could give a hand to the ladies while the boys were handling their business.

Tommy McCann

Mon 08:26PM CST
Tommy pops his tongue in his cheek, somehow still deferring to his big brother despite towering over him. And just about everyone else. Then he raises his hands and deliberately pops his knuckles.

Sure. Yeah. They'll let Cody fight. Just not alone. Haven'tcha heard? The Fianna NEVER fight alone.

Ryan McCann

Mon 08:29PM CST
"Ain't his fault. I told'im to do it. Just makin' Princess feel at home. Just a little prank is all. No harm done except a traumatized bug by'er pink dress. How ya think it feels gettin' tossed down a dress. Probably need counselin' or something." Ryan wasn't backing down, glaring still at Tucker.

A flickerflash of Rage broiling in the Eldest's eyes. "Ya got a problem with the joke. Take it up with me. I'm at fault, the boy ain't."

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 08:31PM CST
Jodi Lynn gets tugged away by Billy, though not without puttin up a bit of a fight. The heels of her cowboy boots dig into the spongey earth as color rises in her cheeks. She grips Billy's forearm, but doesn't pummel it like a child, instead she lets herself be begrudgingly tugged aside. Billy's right, this ain't no playfight about t'happen, and Arabella'll need company up by the truck, out of the way.

"I got a Tanya Tucker tape up in the truck Ara-bella, you'n me could go listen t'a few songs while th'boys sort things out."

She slings an arm over Arabella's shoulder and grins at the girl, though it is a bit tense, and not nearly as wide as usual.

"Lemme jes grab a brew. I'll meet y'on up there in two shakes of a lambs tail."

With a glance at Billy, which promises she'll stay clear of any tooth and claw action she turns toward the cooler and tugs out two beers, casting James a smile and a nod.

"Wanna join us there James? I reckin I could show ya that tattoo I was tellin y'all about last night."

Flirty, and friendly, she chuckles and saunters back to join Arabella, with a glance toward her cousins, and a glare toward Tucker.

James Wagner

Mon 08:33PM CST
"Ye lead, lass, I'll follow." And he proceeds to do just that, pulling out his flask again and taking a swig of the whiskey. Screwing the cap back on, he put it in his pocket again and followed the two women.

Cody McCann

Mon 08:33PM CST
Cody.

Moves forward and to the left effectively. Making a three sided triangle of the affair, instinct, intelligence - call it what you will. Tucker was in line for a good ole' fashioned beat down.

"Naw sucker--" Blink. Goddamn Galliards. " er.. Tucker, I chose t'do it. Didn't mean no harm but I ain't gonna kiss yer ass none, either."

In other words:
Make. Me.

Brows waggle.
[...no apologies, yet.]

Tucker Riley

Mon 08:34PM CST
"Fine. I got a problem with it." A nod. At least the Alpha, probably the oldest the way they all defer to him, has some sense. "It was n'bad taste. An' I jus think she deserves an apology is all." Voice becomes much more sensible, repectfull, though the bulging mass of muscle that's pbviously springloaded on the man's short but strong frame is an indication that fisticuffs is fine with him.

Pure breed adds to his natural intimidation as he stares straight back at the eldest McCann.

Your move.

Billy McCann

Mon 08:34PM CST
"Cody wouldna done that if'n he didn't like seein' you, Miss Arabella. 'an I guaran-dang-tee he would've apologized right nicely if'n your boy hain't a stepped in. Ain't his business, you know what I mean?" She has brothers. She knows what he means. Billy's voice is a low, harsh whisper now. There's a feeling of command to it, too. "It ain't walking off you're doin. It's being safe and practical. I'm sendin' Jodi Lynn an' you off because your fiancée ain't got the sense god gave a caved in watermelon. Somethin' goes wrong here, you ladies - " There's something back there, harder, but Billy swallows it down and narrows eyes again over Arabella's shoulder at Jodi. Lowers his voice still yet, and gives James a look that's mute but near grateful, near as expressive as anything the Fianna does can be. " - gotta be outta the way. Ain't tellin' what your boy might do." Ain't telling what one of them might do, neither. Straightens, shoulders squaring hard, and releases the Silver Fang, stepping up with his brothers.

Ryan McCann

Mon 08:37PM CST
to Cody McCann, Billy McCann, Tommy McCann: totemphone: ya boys think the Princess should get an apology?

Cody McCann

Mon 08:38PM CST
to Billy McCann, Ryan McCann, Tommy McCann: totemphone: Shoot, I'll 'pologize. Just not infronta' him. Sucker.

Tommy McCann

Mon 08:39PM CST
to Cody McCann, Billy McCann, Ryan McCann: Tommy spits from the gap between his front teeth. Or if he didn't have no gap, he'd spit from between his teeth anyhow. Yeah. But I say we kick the Fang's ass fer pokin' his nose where it don't rightly belong anyhow.


Billy McCann

Mon 08:42PM CST
to Cody McCann, Ryan McCann, Tommy McCann: Totemphone: Yep. Cept I feel 'bout it near about the way Cody does. Would've made Cody 'pologize my own damn self if buddy boy hadn't'a poked his ugly ass in'a'it. He ain't her nothin'. He flipped off the Alpha of the Fianna pack an' stomped down here like hell afire was on his ass. Probably ate some bad damn beans, fucknut.



Arabella Eberstark

Mon 08:41PM CST
She reserved her own opinions on things. A bit of loose cussing here, a very blush worthy story there she can handle, the drinking and loud partying and all... but those little things which embarrassed her directly, pranks, no matter the intention... touched things beside her pride. She can remmeber someone who threw her favorite doll out of the tower window, or dunked her in the lake. She sighed, looking torn, not wanting to leave Tucker with them, and knowing she would hardly be of help even if she stayed.

Even though at the root, she's part of the cause....

She nods some, no words and heads up the path, but it doesn't appear its with Jodi and james or her destination is the truck. That cellphone comes out and she's hitting speeddial as she walks.

Go home and mourn.
What else is there left to do when her new friends are squaring off to fight her boyfriend?

Ryan McCann

Mon 08:41PM CST
"Ma'am," Ryan calls out to Arabella. "I'm real sorry about all this, but I'm 'fraid we're goin' have to arrange Sucker's face." he looks at back at Tucker, flipping the shaken beer can into the air from his hand, tossing it over his shoulder to land on the floor.

"That's a challenge, boy?" he asks Tucker.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 08:42PM CST
Jodi Lynn once more slings a friendly arm over Arabella's shoulder and tugs her toward the pickups parked up the riverbank.

"C'mon, let the boys have their fun. I'm sure Cody'll appologize once he's got his ego and yer fella's ego all sorted out in th'end."

Cowboy boot heels dig into the soil as she starts toward the trucks with Arabella in tow. Jodi Lynn is only a year older than Arabella... under different circumstances, these two girls could likely be the best of friends. Jodi casts a glance back over her shoulder at James, and gives him a cordial nod as they near the trucks, handing Arabella the two closed beers.

"Wanna hang on t'them fer me sweetie while I get the tunes goin. Thanks."

Giving Arabella a wink, she slips around to the drivers side of the truck and shoves a key into the ignition, and a few moments later country music is flowing from the open windows of the Ford.

"Yee haw! I love this track, makes me wanna dance. Y'dance t'all Ara-bella? Lets you an me shake it down huh? Wattaya say?"

Only... Arabella isn't where she left her, and the two beers are resting on the hood of the truck. She glances at James with raised blonde brows, and lifts the John Deere hat from atop her head as she wipes her brow, and looks for the Fang girl.

Ryan McCann

Mon 08:43PM CST
to Cody McCann, Billy McCann, Tommy McCann: How we doing this then?

James Wagner

Mon 08:44PM CST
He watched Arabella walk off. 'Course, there wasn't much the Fianna could do about it. He wasn't her poppa, so he couldn't tell her what to do. He leaned on the front panel of the truck near the driver-side and folded his arms. Looking to Jodi, he smiled and said, "Let 'er go, lass. She'll nae get inta any harm. She's a nice lass, from what I kin tell, but I guess she's needin' some time alone y'know? From what I hear, she's goin' through a lot right now."

Cody McCann

Mon 08:47PM CST
At which point Cody slides further left against the edge of Sucker [er.. Tucker's..] peripheral forcing to either stare doewn the ahroun and turn to engage taht shifty youngest brother.

Make your choice.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 08:48PM CST
Peering toward Arabella, Jodi Lynn's brow furrows, and she glances back at James with a slow nod.

"I reckin yer right. Too bad her fella had t'go and get all holier than thou on ol'Cody there."

Her lower lip catches between her teeth as she peers after Arabella again, a bit mournful that a day of good old fashion fishing turned bad so quickly. You never know with the McCann crew.

"Cain't let these beers go t'waste though."

She looks back toward James with a smile, and hands him one of the two beers. Cornflower blue eyes sparkling as she twists off the two caps. Pressing one cold bottle to James' bare arm playfully.

"Reckin Billy'll try an make it up t'her later on... ain't no harm done really. Don't think the worm slime wrecked her pretty dress none."

Tucker Riley

Mon 08:49PM CST
"Heh. Yer bitin' off a whole lot more than you can chew right now." Two-Hundred and fifty punds of muscle leans into him, regardless of what the younger brothers decide on. Arabella's walking away isn't helping, either. "She doesn't like shit like that. And her brother just disappeared. Now ya'd think....maybe that's a bad idea to fuck with her when the guy who's ring she's wearin's standin' right in front of ya?"

Not to mention when that guy can throw a car at you if he's pissed enough.

"S'me sayin' step off r' getcha ass cold cocked country boy. Call it what ya want, but if ya boys jump in, I wont even do ya the pleasure a holdin' back."

Absolutley serious. Nostrils flare only inches from the other mans face. "And one more goddamn person fucks up my name and heads roll. I'm an elder for fuck's sake!" The last screamed into the other's face.

Seems Cliona's little rant had repurcussions reaching far beyond the scope of PMS.

James Wagner

Mon 08:51PM CST
"Eh, th'Fangs us'lly are like that. All uptight. This lass 'ere's a bit looser." Hopping up on the tuck's hood, he opened the beer and took a swig. Tucker needed taking down a peg or sex. Maybe the McCann boys could do it. James wouldn't, mostly because it was a waste of time.

Arabella Eberstark

Mon 08:53PM CST
Jodi's mood is not catching this time. Bella does an admirable job of being strong and all that jazz but there's a fragility she obscures which is stressed again inside. It wouldn't last forever, because her memory would haze and fade, but for the time being its a very real thing, events and reminders setting off small earthwuakes on that faultline within.

Whispered words and eyes which shine but not in zeal but repessed emotions best not revealed to the outside world. Go home to cold matron Genevieve who probably sought to make a real Silver Fang of her late Mate's baby sister and a empty condo.

Tucker knew how much that whiplash of pricked Rage bothered her.

Phone slid away and She waited up the street from Jodi and James for the car which would inevitably come, in minutes at most.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 08:58PM CST
Cornflower blue eyes flash toward the riverbank as Tucker's last rising shriek hits her ears, and she near spits a mouthful of beer in laughter. Doubling over, she presses a hand to her bare torso as she laughs and sputters on half swallowed beer.

"He's an elder?"

Jodi Lynn ain't spent a whole lota time around elders, but the last person she heard wail like that was her 10 year old little brother. As she stands up straight again, her eyes catch Arabella, and she feels almost instantly bad for the girl.

"Aww shee-it. I'll be right back cutie, don't ya go nowhere y'hear?"

With a hand she pats his knee and then saunters over to where Arabella stands, her head canted to one side as she peers sheepishly at the Fang girl.

"Heck, I'm sorry Ara-bella, that stuff got all messed up th'way it did. I know m'cousin din't really mean no harm by what he done, s'jes th'way old country boys can be sometimes is all. If'n y'look at it from a country girls point'a view, ya'd see it meant he kinda likes ya really."

She doesn't really have a way with words, uneducated as she is. But she genuine, and that has to count for something. She offers the Fang girl a slight smile before sipping her beer, and then hitching a thumb through her belt loop.

"If ya'd like... I was thinkin about doin some shopin fer city clothes one'a these days soon. I'd be much obliged if ya'd show me where ya bought that pretty dress yer wearin."

Billy McCann

Mon 08:59PM CST
Fianna. They're the talkers. The singers. The bards. The loretellers and the goddamned poet. Billy McCann don't talk much. He don't talk hardly at all, 'cept when he's got a pretty girl in his eye or about a six pack in his system. He stands there, arms crossed over his goddamned chest, which ain't near as built as the Silver Fangs, listening to the kid rant and scream. And real sudden like, the flat stare narrows and the hard mouth hardens.

"You are using Miss Arabella's grief to justify - " The romantic kicks in. There ain't no change in the Fianna's stance, ain't no change in his voice, but there's a spark behind his eyes that burns white and hot and electric. " - ain't seen you around, none. You ain't a man." Low and controlled, the announcement, or near about. It ain't announcing his next move, which is real quick. Step forward, draw fist back, and near about cold cock one Silver Fang mouth runnin' self-professed elder.

Tucker Riley

Mon 09:02PM CST
Eyes snap away from the older Fianna toward the one he's really, truly intersted in giving a bit of advice. "The fuck? You're dead."

And as he turns around he catches the blow to the chin.

He's fought with Decker. Fucking. Rohl.

"You punch like a woman."

And now it's on.

Ryan McCann

Mon 09:03PM CST
Ryan was not known for his patience. He rarely posessed an ounce of it, and his brothers all knew this. He was a fucking ahroun. A Berserker. He rode too close to that cyclone of Rage.

Tucker screams in his face... [i'm an elder for fuck's sake!] and Ryan just smirks, coldly. "Elder's don't whine out status like mulling lil'pups, Sucker." His eyes flick up, watching Billy step forward to throw the first punch. It's like a starting flag being waved in front of his face.

Nostrils flare out, hot breath cuffed in a snort and Boar's ferocity churns in the eldest McCann. He doesn't hold back either, fists drawn down and back to swing out at Tuck's back.

Arabella Eberstark

Mon 09:05PM CST
She's looking at the shiny LCD display of her phone where she stands, watching streetlight and city light reflect off it in silence. She couldn't help feeling somehow guilty... and wasn't sure why. Jodi's approach isn't remarked upon, but neither do eyes lift to find her with bright eyes dimmer. "Its probably not all that... I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't be trying to be out and about as if alls well in the world."

Her smile is more wry and ironic then happy and she glances at Jodi as her car came around the corner, drawing up to park and wait for her to enter. "If you like... I had offered to Billy to have one or some of you come out to the riding stables where my horse is... a bit outside the city proper, so nice and quiet there. Maybe you could come though. We could have them bring out one of the stable's horses for you if you like.."

If she was going to wait for Jodi's answer though, she doesn't. Billy already had her number and Jodi was staying with him. They'd find each other again at some point.

If she answered her phone...

Heading for the car, elegance ingrained in willowy form and still seemed to step more heavily as she climbed soundlessly into the black towncar, disappearing behind tinted windows and glossy metal door.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 09:09PM CST
"Alright... I'd like that."

She murmurs pretty much to herself as Arabella gets into the car. Lifting a hand in a lazy wave, she sips her beer before starting back toward her pickup where James sits watching the fight from above. Cornflower blue eyes peer down the riverbank, and she lifts a fist to the sky and hollers [redneck women are cheerleaders fer their men] toward the brawl.

"Y'all get that Sucker boys!"

With a wry grin toward James, she hops up onto the hood of the truck beside him and tips her bottle toward him with a wink.

"I got my money on Billy fer doin th'most damage t'the pretty boys face. How 'bout ya?"

James Wagner

Mon 09:11PM CST
He laughed softly and clinked bottles with Jodi, drawing one foot up to the hoot to press his knee against his chest. "I'm not fer knowin', darlin'. Never saw any of 'em fight. We'll just 'afta wait'n see, eh?"

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 09:15PM CST
With a grin and nod, she chuckles toward the riverbank, leaning a friendly shoulder into James' as she sways to the chords of Tanya Tucker from within the trucks cab.

"Did I mention yer song last night was mighty fine. Y'could start yerself up a band'r somthin if ya set yer mind t'it."

Sparkling blue eyes meet his for a brief moment [she is kin afterall, and he's the fianna elder] a blush rising in her creamy cheeks.

"Shoot... could nabbed up Billy's guit-ar from down there, and y'could play some tunes'a yer own fer me again."

Raven 3.0

Mon 09:23PM CST
*Black raven agint a black sky with partial clouds to keep out what starlight their might be, cloaked with the blur of milky eye. Fluttering though the air he flys over the city looking for something of intrest.*

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 09:26PM CST
Her grin is wide and beaming, less tense than it had been when Tucker was in close proximity. Her chuckle is hearty and robust, much like her voice. Infectious in its good humor. It is drown in a long swallow of beer a moment later before she sways into James' shoulder again. Flesh to flesh. A wink cast toward him as she sets her beer down on the hood of the truck behind her.

"Heck I'd love t'see yer club someday. Ain't n'ear been t'a big city club b'fore."

Jodi is a redneck woman, and she knows what country boys like. A city slick rocker like James is a different story though. She could turn a country boy on in two shakes of a lambs tail, but with James she's none to certain. Her femenine whiles ain't exactly up to big city par. A fingertip, light and tentative traces the celtic knotted Fianna glyph on his upper shoulder briefly as she smiles, and her hand falls away to grip her beer, and she returns her gaze to the rough and tumble fight at the bottom of the riverbank.

"Y'should put yer money on Ryan... he's th'fighter. Billy... he's the lover, though Cody there likes t'pretend at bein casa-shitin-nova."

James Wagner

Mon 09:34PM CST
James couldn't be considered wholly urrah; he could last in the wild. The question is, for how long? He smiled at her. "Aye, come down whenever ye want. It serves as pack 'ouse for me an' th'Crows." He pulled out a hairtie from his pocket and pulled back his long ebon locks into the hair tie, to keep it out of his face. "I'm fer puttin' my money on me. I win either way." Chuckling, he nudged Jodi in the side and took another swig of his drink. To tell the truth, all men are the same at core when it came to what turned them on. Just some were freakier than others. James, the Galliard, could be both the lover and the fighter, but moreso the lover. It's all a matter of what time of day it is.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 09:39PM CST
"I'll drag th'boys down one'a these nights fer few pints."

Her grin is genuine, and girlish. All American. You could envision her in toothpaste commercials. Another sip of her beer, and she kicks her heels to the Tanya Tucker tune filtering out from inside the truck.

"So y'were sayin last night that y'ad yerself some other tattoos..."

Her dark blonde brows raise on her smooth forehead as she glances sideways at James, distracted from the fight by a red blooded Fianna male who -wasn't- a blood relative for a change.

Raven 3.0

Mon 09:40PM CST
*Seeing James talking to the HOTTIE from last night he banks and heads down. Spirialing as he uncloaks, then lower and coming to a flutterintg hault on James' shoulder. A large black raven with a red woven band around his foot* "Nevermore!"

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 09:41PM CST
"Holy Shit!"

The startling arrival of the bird sends Jodi Lynn almost vaulting off the hood of the truck, her beer in hand, and not a drop spilled. Wide eyed she stares at the bird on James' shoulder, looking between it and the man with stunned eyes.

"What th'ell!?!"

".... Didja hear it talk?!?"

James Wagner

Mon 09:42PM CST
When Will lands on his shoulders, he chuckles. "Evenin', Will. Out for a lil' night-flyin'?"

Of course the bird on his shoulder could be none other than the Crows favorite Corax. Looking to Jodi, he winked. "Aye, I've more, but we're in public, darlin'." As Jodi lept off the hood of the truck, he started laughing. "This be Will, our flyin' friend. Dinna think she's used t'yer kind, lad."

Raven 3.0

Mon 09:43PM CST
*He grins, well they'd met just last night. He liked to think he gave a better impression than that. So like a gentelmanly raven he is, he offers her his foot to shake*

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 09:46PM CST
"Will?"

She sounds possitively confused, as she looks at the bird, and then at James, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

"From th'pub? Th'skinny fella wi'the dark hair?"

Blinking back startled confusion she reaches up to tug the John Deere mesh cap from her brow, tossing it into the open window of the truck as she drags her fingers through sweat damp dark blonde hair.

"I ain't n'ear met a fella what could make hisself int'a bird."

Canting her head to one side, she looks at the bird more closely, as though looking for hints that he's the same Will she met the other night. A hesitant chuckle sounding in her throat at it lifts a clawed foot to her. She glances at James, in a silent sort of 'is it alright to touch it' look as she lifts a hesitant hand. Beer bottle intact, as she extends a calloused finger toward the raven.

Raven 3.0

Mon 09:48PM CST
*He takes her finger in his foot and shakes it, pretty as you please. Even gives her finger a little slightly open beeked kiss as it were.
Letting go he stands tall on James' shoulder and peers at the fight.* Ohhhh...

James Wagner

Mon 09:48PM CST
He chuckled. "Aye, lass. One an'th'Same. Will 'ere's what we call a Corax. Wereraven." He grinned a little bit. Jodi's probably thinking Will isn't real and that he'll disappear if she touches him. "He's real, darlin'."

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 09:50PM CST
"Well hell... what'll they think a next."

Wiping her brow she shakes her head, peering at the bird intently. As though the birds minor comment reminded her of her cousins little brawl she turns toward it, and peers down the riverbank.

"Shee-it, I hope Tommy don't get hisself messed up none. I bunk in his room and I don't wanna hear'im moanin in his sleep."

With a wry grin, she glances back at James and Will, shaking her head at the bird again in mild disbelief as she sips from her beer.

Raven 3.0

Mon 09:52PM CST
*He hops with a pretty dextous flutter over to Jodi's shoulder and rubs his feathered head aginst her cheek and pecks at the bottle.* Beer?

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 09:56PM CST
Still stunned by the talking bird, Jodi Lynn lifts the bottle without a second thought, tilting it so the liquid slides up the bottleneck, but doesn't quite spill.

"It likes beer too?"

She glances at James, not quite getting the concept that this bird is really a man... or, the other way around. Whatever the case may be.

Raven 3.0

Mon 09:58PM CST
*He sticks his beek in, scoops up some beer and tilts his head back to swallow. Takes two sips and bobs his head to her. Then blinks at being called an "it"*

Raven 3.0

Mon 10:00PM CST
*He bobs his head and looks around for some place to change that won't bring down the fires of heaven and hell*

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 10:00PM CST
"Heck naw... I b'lieve ya..."

Her smooth brow furrows slightly as she looks at the bird, then takes a swallow of her beer, uncaring that raven slobber might have made its way onto the bottle rim. Hell, she had a worm in her mouth not too long ago. Bird slobber can't be much worse.

"S'jes... hard t'swallow s'all."

Raven 3.0

Mon 10:03PM CST
*Here and William was betting money that Jodi didn't have a problem swallowing at all. Looking around he takes to wing. Soon dissapeared into the nights sky*

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 10:06PM CST
She might take offence to that thought... if she were a mind reader. She ain't, so she just watches the black bird take off and disappear into the night sky. Glancing over at James as she smiles wryly and rejoins him on the hood of the truck.

"Talkin birds and shit."

Her laughter is boisterous as she leans back, her head tilted toward the sky, tension draining out of her almost visibly.

"Hell, y'all city folk got some right swell friends."

Raven 3.0

Mon 10:11PM CST
*He's not the type to fly into an alley and walk out a human 2 seconds later. Taking his time he laps the block and enters the alley. Lands on a dumpster and takes a good long moment to make sure there was noone sleeping or peeking into the alley. Corax eyes miss little. Only after compleatly sure that it's safe does he snap shift to human and step off the dumpster. Floating down to the ground he lands on his toes and straightens his long flowing light weight black jacket.
Underneith is the shoulderholster for Ganieda under his right arm. Reaching in he caresses her* You ok Sweety? Yes. Maybe we'll get to shoot tucker like the mad dog he is.
*Giving the spiritually awakened pistol a little pat he smooths down the black teeshirt that has teny tiny white letters reading "Ain't afraid to be Chicken" on it and heads out of the alley. Looks before he crosses and then does. Strolling back towards the truck*

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 10:16PM CST
She isn't as surprised to spot Will coming toward the truck as they might think. She got it... she just didn't 'get' it. A grin, friendly and familiar is cast in his direction as she tips her beer toward him and takes a long swallow.

"Easier t'recognize when yer walkin, 'stead a flyin."

Her chuckles it filled with good humour and starts in the pit of her stomach to work its way up. Lifting a hand she tucks dark blonde strands of hair behind an ear, and glances toward the bed of the truck with a slight frown.

"'fraid all the beers down there."

She nods toward where the McCann boys are having a go at Tucker (and it sure would be nice to know how that was going) with a rueful smile.

"Don't reckin y'll wanna head down and grab the cooler with all the ruckus goin on."

Raven 3.0

Mon 10:19PM CST
*He grins as he walks up and leans on the truck all non-chalantly* Yeah, but flyin's everso much more fun. Ya know. Jus' nothing like it.
*The soft SoCal drawl different from her country girl one. Peeking down by the fight he shakes his head* I think I'll just exist on the sips you gave me. If I go down there Tucker might just accidently decapitate me or some shit.
How you liking the city Jodi?

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 10:24PM CST
"Heck, its swell Will. I ain't been able t'see too much a it, cause m'cousins had me workin all day."

They didn't really... she just felt the overwhelming femenine desire to clean up after them in the houseboat. It wasn't really work to Jodi Lynn though, who is more than used to her share of chores around the house.

"When we come down here fishin was the first time I left the boat all day, but fer when I washed up th'truck here."

She gives the old junker a kick with one heel of a cowboy boot, before casting a smile toward Will, bedazzled for a moment by his clear blue eyes.

"Bet it looks a hell'uva lot diff'ernt from up there huh?"

She nods toward the sky with a rueful look, then takes a long swallow of her beer, before giving James, who has fallen mysteriously silent a glance, and then peering back toward the fight.

[Tommy McCann

Mon 10:21PM CST
(OK. heh. nicely timed - we finished all the actions and combat is over. y'all write it up as you like. it goes like this:

Billy punches for 2 damage (all damage is after soak)
Cody grapples, but Tucker immediately escapes.
Ryan punches, hits, does no damage.
Tucker punches Billy for 2 damage.

Billy punches for 2 damage back (tucker is at 4 bashing now).
Ryan punches, hits, no damage.
Tucker punches, hits, no damage.

Billy punches, hits, no damage.
Ryan punches, hits, no damage.
Tucker punches Billy, hits hard, 4 damage. Billy is at 6 bashing now

Billy keeps trucking, hits, no damage.
Ryan punches Tucker out for 4 additional damage - taking him to 8 bashing, which converts one bashing to lethal. so tucker's final damage is 1 lethal, 6 bashing.

and since he never struck out at tommy, tommy must've just hit him repeatedly to no effect, or something.

sorry morgieporgie, no fightin' for you tonight *grins* back to the other room!)]

Raven 3.0

Mon 10:26PM CST
*He nods* I'll have to show you all the best places, maybe take you up for a flight some time. If your cousins won't try and pluck me that is. I know how protective your blood can be.
*A winning smile from the tall slender man and he looks back to the fight.*


Tommy McCann

Mon 10:27PM CST
So, a flurry of fists later...

Tommy's kinda red in the face, huffing and puffing, and managed to whale on Tucker multiple times and hit nothing but air every time.

Damn.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 10:29PM CST
The look she gives Will says that he must have lost most of his marbles while flying around in the smog laden air. Her brow furrowing as she looks doubtfully over him.

"Ain't no way y'all in yer little bird wings could carry me up there. 'sides... I'm 'fraid a heights anyhow."

Which.. isn't really exactly true.. but she might just acquire a fear of heights after an actual flight. She glances down toward the fist fight at the bottom of the riverbank, squinting cornflower blue eyes as she peers down at her cousins in the dark. Trying to determine who came out on top, and who got their teeth handed to them in another mans fist.

"Looks like things is windin down..."

Tucker Riley

Mon 10:31PM CST
It's a rough fight, especially with two of them in glabro, but at the very least bear's gift does not allow him to feel any of this. The young one doesn't get any shots in thankfully and the one trying to grab him, the oldest, doesn't get more than shoulder shots and things that well, don't really hurt the ahroun.

Knuckles crack against the one in front of him, the one with a mouth that just rivaled his own in opening at the wrong time. He gets his shots in too. The kid ain't bad, the Street-King thinks to himself.

And then, just when the Ahroun thinks he can count out the man behind him...

Slam!

Tuck's hit hard enough from behind to tkae the wind out of him, a rib cracks and the world goes balck for a moment before he falls.

At the very least, he doesn't feel it as he sputters some blood onto his bottom lip, coughing up a bit of his insides.

Ouch.

Raven 3.0

Mon 10:31PM CST
*A bit of a chuckel. No need explaining the rather uniquic and unfortunate mix of the corax crinos form. He didn't much like it either.* Hey ah'm talented ya know.
*Nods to her afraid of heights thing. He got over his pretty quick. Looking back at the fight he pulls out a small whisky container from inside the lightweight long coat. Shimmering with silver plate and unscrews the cap taking a sip* That was intresting.


Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 10:37PM CST
"Yee Haw!"

Her shout is heard from above as she slips off the hood of the truck and trots in cowboy boots toward the riverbank. Her dark blonde hair trailing out behind her.

"Let that be a lesson to ya boy!"

Redneck women... they cheer at the begining of a fight, and then at the end... well, the ones distracted by other men do in any case. Waving an arm toward her cousins she grins and makes her way down the bank of the river, careful not to tumble into the reeds at the bottom of the slope [she has had a few beers].

"Y'all done whooped his ass good!"

She makes her way around the ring of McCann's, clapping them on the backs, and planting wet kisses on each of their cheeks. Pausing near Billy to gauge his injuries with sparkling blue eyes. A fingertip brushing his swollen cheek lightly before she kisses it all better with a light peck.

"I done bet James y'ad lay the most hurt on the fella, and I was right."

Proudly she claps Billy on the rear before moving on to Tommy, and then Cody, and then Morgan, and finally Ryan.

Billy McCann

Mon 10:37PM CST
The fight: in the failing light its hardly more than a wild flailing of limbs. First there's Billy stepping up and punching Tucker. Then there's the near patented Garou blur of folks moving more quickly than the eye can near see or the mind near figure. Ain't like they's poets sitting around watching (heh!) or Gods in the stands t'see how some damn brawl turns up. The details are pretty near boring, really. Billy lands a couple of punches that Tucker just shrugs off (he really wanna say Billy punches like a girl?) but for a fine spray of blood from a split nose or lip or, hell, maybe from Billy's knuckles, broken on the hard-headed Fang's head. Tucker lands a couple of punches that Billy shrugs off, gets caught up by Cody and fights free, then - pissed the goddamned hell off - throws a motherfucking punch that sends the Fianna poet reeling background, spitting a stream of saliva and blood out the side of his mouth, cheekbone breaking beneath the impact. Staggering punch-drunk, the next two punches don't do a dang bit of difference, just land and slide off. Good thing Ryan's around to finish it.

Billy staggers back. Lifts the back of his hand to his mouth. It comes away bloody. Breathes in, breathes out a bubblesnot of bloody mucus, wipes that on the back of his broken knuckles and hunches forward, hands spread on this thighs, head bent. Clearing out his sinuses and his mind, both.

Ryan McCann

Mon 10:38PM CST
There is a reason he is called Barroom Hero. He's a brawler and a Berserker, guided by that hot-blooded Fianna passion for fighting, fucking, and drinking, which he does all the above quite well. Is this a boast? Ya betcha arse it is, laddie!!

And... he is the alpha of the Brothers McCann, follower of Boar. Too angry to pass up a challenge, to fierce to concede a fight, and too ornery to die with good grace.

Ding Ding. Fight ensues and its a dog pile. Ryan's on Tucker like white on rice, fists slamming and a shift to glabro when Tucker moves in that same direction, to add more stopping power to his blows. By the time its over with... however, the eldest McCann is back to his homid form, standing over Tucker with his fists up drawn up and clenched soo tightly the knuckles were white, and bleeding.

His entire body shook from the sheer ferocity of the adrenaline rushing through his veins. A low growl rumbles in Ryan's throat, ready to thrash Tucker some more if the so-called Street King moved. "Had enough?" he spits out in a low growl.

Morgan McCann

Mon 10:39PM CST
A flurry of fists later..

Somewhere between the truck (where he was too often found sleeping in the bed or the cab) and the river bed, is Morgan, standing firmly with his arms crossed over his chest. Through all the fighting he hasn't lifted a single goddamned finger. Hasn't even moved. Just stood there, watching, burning black death into Tucker through his red-hazel eyes. Tucker falls and Morgan smirks, and lets his work boots carry him the rest of the distance toward his brothers and the fallen fuck (er, fang) on the ground.


Billy McCann

Mon 10:39PM CST
Billy - who don't hardly ever smile or wink or nothing - well, he near about does as Jodi Lynn comes over to congratulate him. Winks to her as she pecks his bloody cheek before his battered face goes back near about as still as ever.

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 10:47PM CST
After passing Ryan, who is more occupied with making sure the Fang is down for the count, she slings an arm about Morgan's waist and grins at him with wink.

"Glad that's over n'done with. My beers about empty, and the rest is all down here."

With a chuckle, she slips past him toward the cooler, pulling out six brews and tucking them all under an arm. Making her way around the circle again and handing each McCann boy a nice cold Guinness in a bottle.

Cody McCann

Mon 10:50PM CST
Tucker's about to fall or has fallen [...face first mind, on the ground] Cody jumps atop the boy to get some equal height with the eldest brother. "T'ain't right. Its just not right." The accent is slipping and maybe baby-bro is a lil upset. "I don't never get a punch in." Yeah, he's gonna start whining about it. "Goddamn Fangs..." And already Cody's moving to pull Tucker's pants off -- "Somebody pass the rope..." He's grumbling.

Omega blues.
[sooo not fair.]

Raven 3.0

Mon 10:52PM CST
*Once he's sure Tuckers down he meanders own down that way. Leaning over at the hips* Is it dead?
*ALmost a hopeful tone. Big blue eyes widening as they seem to be........ he's not sure why the man is taking off Tuckers pants but he gets a few photos of that too*

Morgan McCann

Mon 10:52PM CST
Morgan snorts. "Shoulda come down anyway, Jodi.. I think you'd put up more fight than this boy. Probably got bigger balls too."

He takes the offered bear into one hand, and then watches Cody, laughing lowly to himself. "See.. Cody thinks you got bigger balls too.. I think he wants to check fer ye too. Maybe get himself a piece of ass while he's down there.. you know it gets awful lonesome in that boathouse some nights."

Jodi Lynn McCann

Mon 10:52PM CST
"What th'ell y'all doin Cody?"

Wide cornflower blue eyes peer down at the fallen Fang as his pants are undone. She doesn't look away... heck, and miss this? Still holding some beers in her arms, she glances around the McCann circle, shoving beers in all directions.

"Y'all really wanna see him bare assed up in here? C'mon y'all, he done learned his lessin."

She isn't really pleading that hard... in all truth, there is a smile in her eyes and laughter in her voice.

Billy McCann

Mon 10:54PM CST
Holds his hand out for a beer near about automatically. Pretty obvious what Jodi Lynn's comin' round with when she makes a second circuit of the brothers, and it don't matter how punch drunk Billy McCann is, he's still got enough sense to accept a beer when it's offer to him. Straightening, he holds the cold bottle to his cheek for a moment before spitting out another mouthful of blood. Shoots a glance at Cody, but don't say nothing outloud. Just lifts the bottle and walks off toward the edge of the river, where it gleams in the sprawl of citylights.

Tommy McCann

Mon 10:56PM CST
"Hell Cody, what the f--" darted glance at Jodi, "--falootin'. You some sorta faggot now?" Tommy's a little cross 'cause he ain't done nothing but HIT AIR. Grabbing the Guinness over just a tad too rough to be polite, Tommy thumps off too to hang out near Billy, grumping out at the city lights reflected on the water. Funny, at night, the river didn't look so skanky-grimy.