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trace_logs
30 June, 2016
The moon is in the waning Crescent (Theurge) Moon phase (28% full).
From Bawn: Northern Forest, Derek can be heard to howl, ~Greetings! I am Derek Kemeny, ~Honors the Altar~, Cliath Shadow Lord Theurge.~
From Bawn: Central Forest, Six-Shooter can be heard to howl, ~Stay put. I will be there shortly.~
Derek stays put, shifting to homid form and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Just a moment later, he takes his hands out of his pockets and rests them at his side.
Some time passes, perhaps nearly ten minutes, before a wolf emerges from the trees to where Derek is. Six-Shooter didn't come at a dead run, but he still skids to a halt for a moment, and huffs a greeting at the newcomer, before shifting up to homid to match. "Afternoon," he offers, taking a few steps but leaving a respectful enough distance. "I'm Trace Garza, called Six-Shooter. Ahroun and Fostern of the Glass Walkers, packed under Coyote, and Guardian of this place. You're the one who howled?"
Derek ducks his head in a nod to Six-Shooter's question, following it up with a verbal, "Yes. I am. Thank you for arriving so quickly." It doesn't appear to be sarcasm. "I've come to aid the Sept, and make a home here."
Trace finds a tree to lean against and tucks his hands into his pockets, a slight breath out following. "Good to meet you," he says. "I'll pass word to the alpha, your tribal elder, that you've arrived, if you don't find him first. And find someone to check you for Wyrm taint, before you have access to the caern. But other than that…" There's a shrug that follows, and silence.
Perhaps a minute or so after the first wolf appears on the scene, a second one shows up, too, at something between a fast lope and a slow trot. This one remains in wolf form, at least for now, and saunters up to the two others, tail up in a show of power. Is all well here? the wolf enquires, circling and sniffing. I heard howls. The wolf finally comes to a halt next to Trace, sits on his haunches, and looks up at the other man with what in a human might be called a poker face.
"Of course," Derek nods again, and now he slides his hands into his pockets again. They remain there, this time. "A pleasure to meet you as well. I've taken a room at the nearby truck stop for now, so I should be easy to find. I will also look for the Alpha. It's good to be off the bus." He smiles, if faintly. When the second wolf arrives, he introduces himself: "I am Derek Kemeny, Honors-the-Altar, Cliath Shadow Lord Theurge." He doesn't try to assure the new wolf that all is fine, given he's the new one here.
Trace grins a little bit and glances down when the other wolf arrives. "Yeah, we're good," he offers. "Unless you happen to know how to sense for Wyrm?" The tone of the question is rueful rather than entirely serious, however. "Alright. I'll get your phone number too, if you have one, so that I can pass it on to Thane?" The ahroun somehow manages to seem relaxed leaning against the tree, even for all the coiled tension and pent-up violence evident in his frame. There's a brief silence, and then Trace seems to remember something. "There is a house on Sunrise Road, previously owned by the Sept, that is currently occupied by Spirals. Avoid it and the southwestern edge of the Bawn, especially if you are by yourself."
Wolf two tips his head back a fraction and meets Derek's eyes for a couple of seconds. Then he stands, stretches, shakes, and shapeshifts, until in lieu of the wolf there's a tall, thin young man with a mop of shaggy hair. "Good day for meeting new people," he observes, cryptically. "Even ones who I can't pick out wyrm taint upon… Kevin Lockwood. He-Who-Knows-When-To-Speak-And-When-To-Keep-Silent. Adren roachwolf, ragabash, homid born, and don't ask me about packs right now. Painful subject." He waves a hand, as though pushing that topic out of reach. "Where'd you ride a bus from, Derek Kemeny? And who put you on the bus?"
"Understood," Derek says to Trace, and adds a, "And thank you for the information. My new number is 555— …my apologies, you of course already know the area code— 483-2536." Which I just made up, clearly. "I can write it down if needed, naturally." He tilts his head at the mention of painful subjects, and then inclines it into a nod. "Of course. I rode a bus from Ohio— Fairport Harbor, in particular. I was put on the bus by my Uncle Marko Kemeny, Trader-of-Tales. It is a good day for meeting new people, for me as well."
Trace pulls a phone out of his pocket and taps out a brief message on it. "Uneventful trip I hope?" he asks, as he does so.
Kevin fishes a smartphone from his pocket in turn, and saves the number. "How'd you spell Kemeny? …E-N-Y, got it. Ohio? That's a long damn bus ride." He rubs his chin. "Isn't ol' Brom… no, no, he comes from Pennsylvania." The phone goes back into his pocket. "You have to forgive us for being cautious here, Derek," he says, his face still solemn. "Like my tribemate here says, we just had our safehouse out here overrun by the black hats, and given how close it is to everything sacred, well, you get the picture, I hope." He tilts his head toward Trace, watching him type. "You in touch with the powers-that-be, bud?"
"Blissfully uneventful, unless you count the busses breaking down twice. And the toilets, once. Thankfully the latter was a clean break." Derek nods to the spelling of his name, and agrees, "It was a very long bus ride, yes. Four days, though that was padded out by the stops and bus-breakages." He listens to Kevin's words, and then nods his head again, a reassuring multi-nod. "Of course. I'd feel the same way, and I'm not in a particular hurry of some kind. Take whatever time and precautions are necessary, of course. I'm sure you would without my say-so, but I agree with them, particularly with a lost safehouse in the mix."
Trace nods as he finishes typing the message, and then pokes at his phone some more. Neko Atsume, apparently. "Yep," he offers. "Just finished sending a message in case I don't run into him later, though I probably will." There's a shrug. "And yeah. On the flip side? Did I use that right? Of that coin, it means that we can use all the help we can get and such."
"Figured you're more likely to see him than me, since I plan to head back to town tonight," Kevin says to Trace. "And yeah, we certainly need every pair of hands, and set of claws, that we can. Though when isn't that true? Tell me," he goes on to Derek, putting his hands into his pockets with studied casualness, "does your uncle know folks here? Any particular reason Washington needs you more than Ohio? Because I had the impression the Midwest was kind of hard pressed and you could hardly throw a stone off I-80 anywhere without smacking a Spiral in the eye with it."
"I think that's the proper usage, yes," Derek confirms, and gives Trace a ghost of a smile. He then listens to Kevin, and responds, "My uncle might or might not, I must confess. It's my father, Viktor Kemeny, Walks-the-Iron, with the larger interstate connections. He heard the troubles here just might be worse than our own. And here I am." He takes his hands out of his pockets and holds his hands out for a moment. They're then shoved back into his pockets. He's standing on the edge of the bawn in homid with Kevin and Trace, also in homid.
Trace puts his phone back in his pocket, and nods. "Everywhere has been kind of hard-pressed, recently," the ahroun says, quietly. "When isn't that true indeed, now more than ever that I remember, at the very least. Though that isn't saying very much." There's a shrug and then the ahroun continues. "But in any case, welcome. Glad you made it safely. And my number is," he rattles off a Los Angeles phone number. "Or you know, just howl. That usually gets my attention too, these days."
Kevin pulls his own hand out of one pocket again, evidently assuming that Derek is offering a human-style handshake, and is slightly taken by surprise when Derek's hands are stashed away again. But he chuckles at Trace's invitation to howl. "So," he says, popping his hand back into the pocket it just came from, "what do you know about us?"
Jogging his way through the woods is Justin. By this time of the day, he is wearing a pair of rainbow colored board shorts and he is shirtless. His wild curly thick hair is bouncing about in his eyes and in the need of another haircut. "Hey, who was shouting in the woods?" He comes sliding to a stop, then looks over to the group, eyes settling on the new face.
Derek pulls out a small smartphone of his own, and quickly taps in Trace's number. If anyone's watching his screen, it's under the name, 'TG'. He then slips it back into his pocket, along with his phone. It's about then that he notices Kevin putting his hand back into his pocket, and looks mildly chagrined. Kevin gets a ghost of a smile, and this time Derek holds his hand out for a firm-ish handshake, if Kevin's still interested. Once that's done, or if Kevin's not accepting, his hand ends up in his pocket again. "Got it," he then says to Trace with a nod, "and thank you." He's just about to attempt to answer Kevin's next question when Justin arrives, and so he goes quiet, offering up a small wave and then looking to the others to be sure it's okay to talk around him.
Trace grins and lifts a hand in a wave as his packmate arrives. "Hola J," he calls out, and there's a bit of a nod towards Derek. "No problem." He continues, "The shouting in the woods would have been us. At least we know that it actually made a sound."
Kevin laughs aloud, now, and brings his hand back out for a shake. "Gorramn social customs," he remarks. "Sniffing butts is simpler… You want my number too, just in case?" He turns his head at the sound of a new arrival. "Oh, hey, Jus'. We found us a new little friend! Come meet him."
"Hey." Justin says cooly once he arrives, giving Derek a quick once over. "Sup bro? I'm Justin of the Gnawers."
Derek smiles again, this time much more brightly as he shakes Kevin's hand. "Yes, that sounds great," he says of the number bit, and waves to Justin. "Hey," he returns the greeting. "Derek of the Shadow Lords, Cliath Theurge. A pleasure to meet you." Since he's about to get another number and all, he pulls out his small smartphone again, this time creating an entry for 'KL' and waiting for the number.
Kevin rattles off the digits required for Derek, then blinks as he notices what Derek's typing. "Jesus. Do me a favour… don't call me KL. Ever. It's… oh, I'll tell you some other time. Kevin. Kevin's my name." He checks the position of the sun in the sky, then, as though deciding that this is too inexact, pulls his phone back out and looks at the time on that. "I'd better get crackin' on if I want to make the bus back into town," he says. "Can I leave Derek with you two here? Don't make him go and buy striped paint, or a long stand, or any of that kinda thing, mmm?"
Trace laughs a bit at the comment on social customs, and pulls out his pack of cigarettes from his pocket, taking one out before offering it vaguely towards everyone else. "Lots of things are simpler than social customs," he agrees, and then grins at Kevin. "Sure, yeah. Say hi to people in town for me, yeah?" A brief pout follows. "Fine, but only because you said so. I won't superglue a coin to the ground either."
Giving a wave to Kevin, Justin has a wide grin upon his face before he turns back to Derek. "So, where you from dude? Or— was this covered already?" He asks as he shifts on his heels a bit.
Derek cants his head at Kevin's request, and then nods his agreement to it. The letter 'L' is removed, and 'evin' is added in its place. The digits are entered in as quick as he's able. He seems to be more at ease now, judging by the smile he shoots at the Walker when he oh so cruelly tells the others not to make him buy striped paint. "Have a pleasant evening," he suggests, and politely shakes his head to the offer of a cigarette. "No dollar bills on strings, either?" he asks, and then shifts his attention to Justin. "It was covered, but I certainly don't mind saying it again. I'm from Ohio."
Trace grins. "I think that means that I'm supposed to be responsible or some shit like that," he says, "apparently." There's another shrug, and the pack of cigarettes is put back into a pocket, as is the lighter not long thereafter. "I mean, if there really were striped paint, it would probably be pretty cool. Alas."
Grinning to Trace in return, Derek nods. "Social customs AND responsibility? Goodness, I had no idea what I was signing on for!" He slips his phone back into his pocket, and then puts his hands to his sides before gently swinging his arms. "Alas, indeed," he nods.
Trace offers a brief grin. "What fun would it be if you had any idea?" he notes, though his tone remains light. "I haveta get going, patrol to do and such while it's still light out. Was nice meeting you." His packmate gets a nod and a wave. "Nos vemos, J."
"You have a point, there," Derek smirks, his tone light as well. He then nods to the rest of what's said, adding, "Happy patrolling. Or at least uneventful patrolling. It was nice meeting you, as well."
The moon is in the waning Crescent (Theurge) Moon phase (28% full).
From Bawn: Northern Forest, Derek can be heard to howl, ~Greetings! I am Derek Kemeny, ~Honors the Altar~, Cliath Shadow Lord Theurge.~
From Bawn: Central Forest, Six-Shooter can be heard to howl, ~Stay put. I will be there shortly.~
Derek stays put, shifting to homid form and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Just a moment later, he takes his hands out of his pockets and rests them at his side.
Some time passes, perhaps nearly ten minutes, before a wolf emerges from the trees to where Derek is. Six-Shooter didn't come at a dead run, but he still skids to a halt for a moment, and huffs a greeting at the newcomer, before shifting up to homid to match. "Afternoon," he offers, taking a few steps but leaving a respectful enough distance. "I'm Trace Garza, called Six-Shooter. Ahroun and Fostern of the Glass Walkers, packed under Coyote, and Guardian of this place. You're the one who howled?"
Derek ducks his head in a nod to Six-Shooter's question, following it up with a verbal, "Yes. I am. Thank you for arriving so quickly." It doesn't appear to be sarcasm. "I've come to aid the Sept, and make a home here."
Trace finds a tree to lean against and tucks his hands into his pockets, a slight breath out following. "Good to meet you," he says. "I'll pass word to the alpha, your tribal elder, that you've arrived, if you don't find him first. And find someone to check you for Wyrm taint, before you have access to the caern. But other than that…" There's a shrug that follows, and silence.
Perhaps a minute or so after the first wolf appears on the scene, a second one shows up, too, at something between a fast lope and a slow trot. This one remains in wolf form, at least for now, and saunters up to the two others, tail up in a show of power. Is all well here? the wolf enquires, circling and sniffing. I heard howls. The wolf finally comes to a halt next to Trace, sits on his haunches, and looks up at the other man with what in a human might be called a poker face.
"Of course," Derek nods again, and now he slides his hands into his pockets again. They remain there, this time. "A pleasure to meet you as well. I've taken a room at the nearby truck stop for now, so I should be easy to find. I will also look for the Alpha. It's good to be off the bus." He smiles, if faintly. When the second wolf arrives, he introduces himself: "I am Derek Kemeny, Honors-the-Altar, Cliath Shadow Lord Theurge." He doesn't try to assure the new wolf that all is fine, given he's the new one here.
Trace grins a little bit and glances down when the other wolf arrives. "Yeah, we're good," he offers. "Unless you happen to know how to sense for Wyrm?" The tone of the question is rueful rather than entirely serious, however. "Alright. I'll get your phone number too, if you have one, so that I can pass it on to Thane?" The ahroun somehow manages to seem relaxed leaning against the tree, even for all the coiled tension and pent-up violence evident in his frame. There's a brief silence, and then Trace seems to remember something. "There is a house on Sunrise Road, previously owned by the Sept, that is currently occupied by Spirals. Avoid it and the southwestern edge of the Bawn, especially if you are by yourself."
Wolf two tips his head back a fraction and meets Derek's eyes for a couple of seconds. Then he stands, stretches, shakes, and shapeshifts, until in lieu of the wolf there's a tall, thin young man with a mop of shaggy hair. "Good day for meeting new people," he observes, cryptically. "Even ones who I can't pick out wyrm taint upon… Kevin Lockwood. He-Who-Knows-When-To-Speak-And-When-To-Keep-Silent. Adren roachwolf, ragabash, homid born, and don't ask me about packs right now. Painful subject." He waves a hand, as though pushing that topic out of reach. "Where'd you ride a bus from, Derek Kemeny? And who put you on the bus?"
"Understood," Derek says to Trace, and adds a, "And thank you for the information. My new number is 555— …my apologies, you of course already know the area code— 483-2536." Which I just made up, clearly. "I can write it down if needed, naturally." He tilts his head at the mention of painful subjects, and then inclines it into a nod. "Of course. I rode a bus from Ohio— Fairport Harbor, in particular. I was put on the bus by my Uncle Marko Kemeny, Trader-of-Tales. It is a good day for meeting new people, for me as well."
Trace pulls a phone out of his pocket and taps out a brief message on it. "Uneventful trip I hope?" he asks, as he does so.
Kevin fishes a smartphone from his pocket in turn, and saves the number. "How'd you spell Kemeny? …E-N-Y, got it. Ohio? That's a long damn bus ride." He rubs his chin. "Isn't ol' Brom… no, no, he comes from Pennsylvania." The phone goes back into his pocket. "You have to forgive us for being cautious here, Derek," he says, his face still solemn. "Like my tribemate here says, we just had our safehouse out here overrun by the black hats, and given how close it is to everything sacred, well, you get the picture, I hope." He tilts his head toward Trace, watching him type. "You in touch with the powers-that-be, bud?"
"Blissfully uneventful, unless you count the busses breaking down twice. And the toilets, once. Thankfully the latter was a clean break." Derek nods to the spelling of his name, and agrees, "It was a very long bus ride, yes. Four days, though that was padded out by the stops and bus-breakages." He listens to Kevin's words, and then nods his head again, a reassuring multi-nod. "Of course. I'd feel the same way, and I'm not in a particular hurry of some kind. Take whatever time and precautions are necessary, of course. I'm sure you would without my say-so, but I agree with them, particularly with a lost safehouse in the mix."
Trace nods as he finishes typing the message, and then pokes at his phone some more. Neko Atsume, apparently. "Yep," he offers. "Just finished sending a message in case I don't run into him later, though I probably will." There's a shrug. "And yeah. On the flip side? Did I use that right? Of that coin, it means that we can use all the help we can get and such."
"Figured you're more likely to see him than me, since I plan to head back to town tonight," Kevin says to Trace. "And yeah, we certainly need every pair of hands, and set of claws, that we can. Though when isn't that true? Tell me," he goes on to Derek, putting his hands into his pockets with studied casualness, "does your uncle know folks here? Any particular reason Washington needs you more than Ohio? Because I had the impression the Midwest was kind of hard pressed and you could hardly throw a stone off I-80 anywhere without smacking a Spiral in the eye with it."
"I think that's the proper usage, yes," Derek confirms, and gives Trace a ghost of a smile. He then listens to Kevin, and responds, "My uncle might or might not, I must confess. It's my father, Viktor Kemeny, Walks-the-Iron, with the larger interstate connections. He heard the troubles here just might be worse than our own. And here I am." He takes his hands out of his pockets and holds his hands out for a moment. They're then shoved back into his pockets. He's standing on the edge of the bawn in homid with Kevin and Trace, also in homid.
Trace puts his phone back in his pocket, and nods. "Everywhere has been kind of hard-pressed, recently," the ahroun says, quietly. "When isn't that true indeed, now more than ever that I remember, at the very least. Though that isn't saying very much." There's a shrug and then the ahroun continues. "But in any case, welcome. Glad you made it safely. And my number is," he rattles off a Los Angeles phone number. "Or you know, just howl. That usually gets my attention too, these days."
Kevin pulls his own hand out of one pocket again, evidently assuming that Derek is offering a human-style handshake, and is slightly taken by surprise when Derek's hands are stashed away again. But he chuckles at Trace's invitation to howl. "So," he says, popping his hand back into the pocket it just came from, "what do you know about us?"
Jogging his way through the woods is Justin. By this time of the day, he is wearing a pair of rainbow colored board shorts and he is shirtless. His wild curly thick hair is bouncing about in his eyes and in the need of another haircut. "Hey, who was shouting in the woods?" He comes sliding to a stop, then looks over to the group, eyes settling on the new face.
Derek pulls out a small smartphone of his own, and quickly taps in Trace's number. If anyone's watching his screen, it's under the name, 'TG'. He then slips it back into his pocket, along with his phone. It's about then that he notices Kevin putting his hand back into his pocket, and looks mildly chagrined. Kevin gets a ghost of a smile, and this time Derek holds his hand out for a firm-ish handshake, if Kevin's still interested. Once that's done, or if Kevin's not accepting, his hand ends up in his pocket again. "Got it," he then says to Trace with a nod, "and thank you." He's just about to attempt to answer Kevin's next question when Justin arrives, and so he goes quiet, offering up a small wave and then looking to the others to be sure it's okay to talk around him.
Trace grins and lifts a hand in a wave as his packmate arrives. "Hola J," he calls out, and there's a bit of a nod towards Derek. "No problem." He continues, "The shouting in the woods would have been us. At least we know that it actually made a sound."
Kevin laughs aloud, now, and brings his hand back out for a shake. "Gorramn social customs," he remarks. "Sniffing butts is simpler… You want my number too, just in case?" He turns his head at the sound of a new arrival. "Oh, hey, Jus'. We found us a new little friend! Come meet him."
"Hey." Justin says cooly once he arrives, giving Derek a quick once over. "Sup bro? I'm Justin of the Gnawers."
Derek smiles again, this time much more brightly as he shakes Kevin's hand. "Yes, that sounds great," he says of the number bit, and waves to Justin. "Hey," he returns the greeting. "Derek of the Shadow Lords, Cliath Theurge. A pleasure to meet you." Since he's about to get another number and all, he pulls out his small smartphone again, this time creating an entry for 'KL' and waiting for the number.
Kevin rattles off the digits required for Derek, then blinks as he notices what Derek's typing. "Jesus. Do me a favour… don't call me KL. Ever. It's… oh, I'll tell you some other time. Kevin. Kevin's my name." He checks the position of the sun in the sky, then, as though deciding that this is too inexact, pulls his phone back out and looks at the time on that. "I'd better get crackin' on if I want to make the bus back into town," he says. "Can I leave Derek with you two here? Don't make him go and buy striped paint, or a long stand, or any of that kinda thing, mmm?"
Trace laughs a bit at the comment on social customs, and pulls out his pack of cigarettes from his pocket, taking one out before offering it vaguely towards everyone else. "Lots of things are simpler than social customs," he agrees, and then grins at Kevin. "Sure, yeah. Say hi to people in town for me, yeah?" A brief pout follows. "Fine, but only because you said so. I won't superglue a coin to the ground either."
Giving a wave to Kevin, Justin has a wide grin upon his face before he turns back to Derek. "So, where you from dude? Or— was this covered already?" He asks as he shifts on his heels a bit.
Derek cants his head at Kevin's request, and then nods his agreement to it. The letter 'L' is removed, and 'evin' is added in its place. The digits are entered in as quick as he's able. He seems to be more at ease now, judging by the smile he shoots at the Walker when he oh so cruelly tells the others not to make him buy striped paint. "Have a pleasant evening," he suggests, and politely shakes his head to the offer of a cigarette. "No dollar bills on strings, either?" he asks, and then shifts his attention to Justin. "It was covered, but I certainly don't mind saying it again. I'm from Ohio."
Trace grins. "I think that means that I'm supposed to be responsible or some shit like that," he says, "apparently." There's another shrug, and the pack of cigarettes is put back into a pocket, as is the lighter not long thereafter. "I mean, if there really were striped paint, it would probably be pretty cool. Alas."
Grinning to Trace in return, Derek nods. "Social customs AND responsibility? Goodness, I had no idea what I was signing on for!" He slips his phone back into his pocket, and then puts his hands to his sides before gently swinging his arms. "Alas, indeed," he nods.
Trace offers a brief grin. "What fun would it be if you had any idea?" he notes, though his tone remains light. "I haveta get going, patrol to do and such while it's still light out. Was nice meeting you." His packmate gets a nod and a wave. "Nos vemos, J."
"You have a point, there," Derek smirks, his tone light as well. He then nods to the rest of what's said, adding, "Happy patrolling. Or at least uneventful patrolling. It was nice meeting you, as well."