Time/Date :It is currently 14:10 Pacific Time on Thu Jun 14 2007.

Place : Barn

Weather :Currently in Saint Claire, it is mostly sunny today. The temperature is 61 degrees Fahrenheit (16 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from variable directions at 3 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.19 and falling, and the relative humidity is 51 percent. The dewpoint is 43 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius.)

Moon Phase :Currently the moon is in the waning New Moon phase (6% full).

Big Red Barn(#3420RA)

The barn is built in the old style, a vast three level structure that is greater in height than a mere three stories, actually closer to five. Great wooden posts support the weight of the upper levels and roof, sunk into the hard-packed dirt floor of the first level like a sparse forest of regularly spaced, naked trees. The stalls and flagstones which once were here have been torn out to leave a rather open area where even crinos Garou may roam freely without fear of running into anything but the supports or the walls or the ladder at the back which allows access to the other two levels.
The first two levels are relatively open to each other, the second being only little wider than a catwalk going around all the walls but the front one, which has massive, twenty foot tall doors set into it. The third level is a true second floor except for a place cut out that allowed hay to be tossed down to the ground floor when the farm was actually worked. Now, it is a hayloft where Garou can sleep outside of the house.


Sometime over the last couple of years, a teen girl with a poor attitude and a hair-trigger temper has grown up, and matured into a young woman. With a poor attitude and a hair-trigger temper. KL is a little over five-foot tall - no late growth spurt for her - and slimly built. She moves quickly, and is rarely still for any length of time. Her natural balance and co-ordination are clearly evident in her movement, but any hint of grace is smothered with her air of irritation, hostility and restrained aggression. She manages to turn even simple activities - like ordering fries - into not particularly subtle attempts to provoke fights.
Her mousy-brown hair hangs loose around her shoulders, the front falling to frame her face. Her hair looks like it has been cut recently, and by someone with at least a little skill. She's really quite attractive, perhaps not a pin-up, but far from ugly, with a cute upturned nose and wide expressive hazelnut eyes. However, any level of appeal her physical appearance might have is swamped by the anger in her gaze and the sullen set of her mouth. She stares at people - particularly people she doesnt know - with a cold fury, as if trying to decide exactly which way to kill them.
KL has pale skin, and on her right shoulder-blade is a two-inch-square tattoo of a winged horse. There isn't much in the way of excess flesh on her, her cheekbones are clearly visible and her bare arms have a tight musculature that speaks of regular and plentiful exercise.
She is wearing a pair of blue jeans that look brand-new, and have a designer label clearly visible on the rear, a pair of combat boots that also look new. On her upper half she is sporting a rather snazzy black leather jacket over a clean new white t-shirt.

Looking at Jacob:

A man of slightly above average height, Jacob stands at six feet tall and is built in a rather non-descript way. There's an obvious level of fitness about him that suggests he is no sluggard, but there is also no show of obnoxious bicep, pec or shoulders. Dark brown hair, worn just long enough to shag across his brow and curl around his ears frames a face that is both youthful and aged. It's hard to discern his age by looks alone, and depending on his mood he can quickly gain or shed a few years in appearance.
Green-grey eyes look at the world with a guarded clarity and apprehension; the kind of calculating look that makes one wonder if he can see beyond them, or through them. He often walks with his hands loosely in his pockets and his shoulders slumped, giving him a rather lackadaisical nature to his gait. Everyday clothes are his typical wardrobe; jeans, tee's and gymshoes.


Reaching a height of five foot nine, the girl can't be more than sixteen years old. Her brown skin is quite dark, contrasting sharply against her white, straight teeth. Her almond-shaped eyes are mud-brown in color, while her broad but small nose is set above her overly full lips. A large and well-tended to afro sprouts out from her head, the dark curls frizzing out to an even and clean cut halo, reminiscent of the 70's hair-style. Her body is quite long-limbed and sinewy; her curves appearing a bit exaggerated due to her lanky build. She usually moves with an unfocused, lethargic grace that adds onto her apathetic but calm presence.
She is wearing a white tank top that stops just at her navel. Her gold and wine-red skirt is a wrap-around that hangs low on her hips and reaches her ankles. The skirt has the tendency to flap about her and offer glimpses of white bicycle-shorts worn underneath. She is also wearing a pair of brown flip-flops, showing her rather calloused feet. Her only accessories are a pair of bright, amber-lense sunglasses used as a hair-band and golden hoop earings. A keychain dangles from a loop on her skirt, supporting a large number of keys. Constantly on her person or around her at least is a MkVII British Gas Mask bag.


Standing at some five feet nine inches, and aged perhaps in his late teens or early twenties, Felix Szkarpiak has a monochromatic air about him that's only enhanced by his longish sable hair, pale face, and entirely black outfit. He's dressed in a black polo-neck, black jeans, black socks and even black sneakers, with the only variety to this outfit being a silver-colored metallic chain round his neck that carries a diamond-shaped piece of transparent material, with a musical note engraved upon it. He often wears wrap-around sunglasses which only add further to the monochrome style he affects. With them, he looks like a mafia hitman; without them, he bears an odd resemblance to a 1950s beatnik. His eyes, when not hidden by the sunglasses, are grey and cold. But his most obvious distinguishing feature is the fact that his jaw and chin are a mass of ugly red scars, and his lower lip is gashed open revealing teeth in a permanent snarl, whilst his lower jaw appears to be off center, as though he's survived some disfiguring accident in the not too recent past.

"Jacob has a point. All you think about bones snapping by the force of your teeth? Love isn't painless; the suffering towards love, the suffering after love, the suffering through love. They're all trials, but it's not hatred that fuels Gaia." Aja pauses as she considers that for a long moment before relenting, "and it's not love that fuels Gaia either. Maybe it's a balance of both or the absence of both." Aja is stretched out on the bale of hay, staring up at the ceiling with Felix and Jacob. There is a heavy scent of freshly smoked marijuana hovering about them, especially with Jacob's newly lit joint.

"Yeah, well. Hate ishn't eashy either. I guesh you guysh think being a Shadow Lord'sh easy. No way." Felix shakes his head vigorously. "An' mebbe I thought being a Child of Gaia wash eashy. Mebbe I wash wrong. Mebbe... Mebbe we shouldn't talk crazy shit while we're shmoking," he concludes. "Elshe we'll just get a cashe of the assh at eash other'n... like I shay... I don't want anyone to hate me today." He pauses, then delivers an even more portentous phrase. "An' I don't want to hate anyone myshelf today either."

Jacob rolls his shoulders up, "Cool by me." After another hit he slips off the hay bale so he can spread out and lean back against it, tipping his head backward. "I bet Cary Grant was a Fianna. All that fucking charm. Had to be a damn Fianna."

As if on cue, KL walks in. She's carrying a few pieces of wood and a tin of varnish under one arm. Her first reaction on entering is to cough. "What the fuck is that smell?" she says, to herself more than anyone else. It takes a moment before she notices that there are some other people here, and when she does, she drops the wood to the floor with a clatter. "Oh," she says.

"I bet he is, which means he likes pale skins, rosey lips and bitchy attitude," Aja replies towards Jacob, quite eager to change the subject. "In which case, he better not be a fuckin' Fianna kin. Maybe he's Silver Fang, they're charming as-" She stops at the sound of someone else's entry and the clattering of wood. With lethargic effort, Aja turns her head to peer towards the door. "Hello," she offers before her lips curve up at the corners in that same lazy manner.

Felix twists round from his seat on the haybale. "Awww, nutsh," he groans. "Gaia, are You fucking with my head again?" He launches himself, less than steadily, to his feet. "Ish that you, Madame Fury? The fashtesht claw in the wesht? Shall I call thee bird or but a wandering voishe?" He tilts his head on one side and backwards, as though he's finding it hard to focus on KL. He's not wearing his usual shades.

Jacob stands up so fast at this that the joint falls to the floor and he completely forgets about it. "KL. How's it going. We're all just hanging out, being all chill. Good times. Thin moons. Come on in." He looks over to Felix though, and everything about his posture screams readiness for action.

The Fury looks at Felix, her face even paler than usual. She slowly sets down the pot of varnish, buying time to speak. When she straightens up, some of her colour has returned. When she speaks, it's much more quiet than usual. "I'm glad you're not dead," she says, carefully. "And...I'm sorry. I can't remember exactly what happened. But I know it was bad."

While the others are busy confronting or preventing a confrontation, Aja only has her eyes on Jacob's joint as it falls. "What a washte," she mutters before realizing she's adopting Felix's accent. "I mean, waste." With that, she scrambles over to the side of the bale of hay she's laid out over and dips her hand down to snatch the joint from the ground. Placing it between her lips, she inhales deeply before exhaling softly. With that, she offers KL the joint by extending her hand out. "No hating anyone today, Scarface," she finally murmurs.

"You know what? I'm glad I'm not dead too." Felix lets out a surprisingly high-pitched titter at his own joke. "Hey, hey, KL, hey. Check out whatcha did." He angles his face, pointing at the chin. "Not gonna let you get the jump on me again. No siree. -- Is 'siree' sexist? Madam-ee?" he asks as an aside, then shrugs. "Come here, try shome of Aja's shtuff, it'll knock you shpinning. In a good way. Like she shays, no hate, not here, not now. Nuh uh."

Jacob lets out a breath as the Lord seems to be... well totally stoned. He glances at Aja and then realizes she's offering KL his joint. He rolls his eyes and then slumps back down to rest near his tribemate, leaning back and reaching as nonchalantly as possible for her bag to maybe find more treats.

KL shakes her head at the offered joint. "No thanks," she says, politely, before looking back at Felix. "What?" Her voice hardens, and her fists slowly curl into fists. "What the fuck did all that mean?" Her returning colour increases, and she takes a couple of steps towards the Shadow lord. "At least I still have a fucking face for you to throw my apology back in."

Do not touch happy-fun bag. Aja's free hand reaches out swiftly to bat Jacob's hand away. "You do not want to pull out my tampons by mistake now do you?" But as KL refuses the joint, Aja takes another puff before offering it back towards Jacob. As KL starts to step forward however, Aja's stoned face quickly hardens - the girl is a pothead, one round with the pipe with two others is hardly going to affect her that much. "Alright girl. Calm. The Fuck. Down. I don't give a fuck what you two have going but now is not the time. He is here currently under /my/ care. If you wanna beat the crap out of him again, that will have to wait until tomorrow."

Felix doesn't seem to know whether to be pissed at Aja, pissed at KL, or too stoned to be pissed at anyone. "I don' need no fuckin' care. I am a Shadow Lord. Thunder walks with me. Rar. Fear my clawsh..." His focus has drifted away from KL and Aja and is now somewhere near the ceiling. He shakes himself and speaks again. "Shure you got a fashe," he tells KL with the air of an art critic examining an old master. "Nishe fashe too. When you've not gotten your RAR on."

Jacob groans, "He's fucking high KL. And remember back when we first met, and I told you about needing to learn to chill? You do. And if you don't take me up on the offer now, to help you with that, you're gonna live a life that is dotted with regret at every turn. Now calm down, smoke or don't, but if you aren't going to relax, get out until we're done." He rubs at his offended hand too. "Tampons huh? Lemme see how they work."

The Fury turns that stare on Aja. "I didn't fucking well want to fucking beat the crap out of him the first fucking time." She takes a deep breath, and then looks at Jacob, her voice softening. "I am trying. Really," she says. "You're right. I do need to stop being *quite* so... you know." She picks up her wood again. "I've repaired the kitchen door," she says, matter of factly. Felix is ignored.

Aja is momentarily distracted by Jacob's comment about tampons, blinking at him as if he just grew a new head, "You don't know how tampons work? How many girls did you say you were with?" As the Fury calms down however, Aja relaxes easily enough and her lazy grin returns to her lips. "Alright then, fair enough. Just think good thoughts for now, eh? Just today?" With that, her attention flicks towards Felix as she frowns. "I gave you the weed and this is your first time. You are under my care whether you like it or not, it's why I'm called the Pot-Fairy. Thunder may walk with you, but right now I'm the one who will be standing between you and her claws. Unlike a number of you, I kind of like how I look without the face scars, and if I do get them, well, that's not a very nice way of saying 'thank you Aja for giving me this wonderfully green herb'."

Felix clears his throat noisily and a little moistly. "Thank you Aja," he repeats docilely. "You're purty too," he adds as an afterthought.

Jacob just chuckles, "Lotsa girls, never played with one of their cigars though. And hey, what about me? I'm pretty!" He smiles at Felix once more before dropping down and lying on his back. "Gimme my joint back Aja. And KL. Meet me for breakfast tomorrow, we'll talk about things."

KL puts her wood safely away in one corner. "Sure, I'll see you around." She glances at Aja, and then at Felix. "I really am sorry, even if you're too stoned to accept that." She shrugs and looks back to Aja. "Nice to meet you. Maybe again, in better circumstances." She waves, and heads for the door.

"I'll tell him if he forgets," Aja assures KL before she grins, "It was nice to meet ya too actually, whatever the circumstance. I've heard quite a bit about you and wouldn't mind hearing some more, but from your own lips." She winks and flops back down, rolling onto her back while her head hangs off the side, Aja stares off at the ceiling. "If you're quiet enough, you can hear the earth is singing."

"Great Gaia," Felix gasps. "...you're right." He flops back down onto his elbow and closes his eyes, the better to focus. Once KL has departed, the barn becomes a haven of pure tranquility. At least for now.

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