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Terri saw the young hunterheart as Felena pointed him out, sensing the weak mantle he possessed. "Cool, you'll have to introduce me," she said. If anyone was going to try and help out the new arrivals, it might as well be the Twilit Page, right?
"Sorry, Felena, but I can't for the life of me remember if I've asked or not but how long have you been in Sacramento?"
Felena paused and thought about Terri's question for a few seconds.
"Well i moved out west from the east coast about nine months ago. But since i only walk everywhere it was a bit hard to get into town on a regular basis from where i was living. but i just recently moved closer to the city proper only a few weeks ago." The fairest paused, wondering if she said to much.
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"And how about since you returned?"
Terri hated asking the question but if anyone was going to, it would be her. The only way to truly know someone is to understand their reaction to something so personal.
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Sam detaches himself from the wall after several minutes of quiet observation of the people milling about and a few healthy pulls from his flask. His allies, those as close as Sam ever came to calling friends, mingled with those who were rivals, those enemies worthy of respect. Some were both, and none were above the Wizened's suspicion. He waved and nodded at them, mumbling grettings through a mouthful of leaves as he passed. There was only one Jungle, the Woodwalker knew all too well, and none consent to make themselves prey. Some faces he had only recently met, and these received the same welcome as those he knew well, which was barely one, but what can you do about Sam when he's in that kind of mood? Nothing, and that's why none had tried. Some faces were new. And one...
One walked with the face of the tiger. And Sam Barkley knew from whence he came. He weren't the first Beast the Tiger of the Pitiless Jungle, He of the Emerald Eyes, had sent, neither. Or was he? He looked kind of like the other, didn't he, and they all looked like their poppa. Terrible, evil creatures do cats be. Sam fixed his glasses as he sidled up beside Nightfall and Al-Adin. "'ullo, Neil, Al," Sam says cordially, and then he starts talking, oblivious to whether they wanted him to or not, but behind those smoked glasses, Sam keeps one eye on the tiger in their midst. He could only spare the one.
"Ol' Mad Sam haz a story to tell. There wuz once a bird whoz wing wuz broken-like, and so it couldnae fly south fer the winter, like all its little bird friends. The winter grew cold an' dark, an' not bein a penguin or such, it was all set to freeze itself to death. The bird cried its little heart out and wuz heard by a moose, who didnae want the pretty wee bird to die, an' so the moose picked it up and placed it into one a' its big steamin' piles a' crap, an' tole the bird it would bring back some berries fer it to eat, so it wouldnae starve there. The moose left him there in the stink, but the birdie was warm, an' alive, an' after how close it had been to death, the wee bird had a song in its heart, an' it sang a joyful song. Along come a lean, hungry fox, for he had heard the bird's song, an' he was so hungry, he minded not the smell of his dinner." Sam takes a drink from his flask and continues. "There iz two morals to Sam's story. The first iz that not everyone who sticks yeh in crap is yer enemy, and not everyone who pulls yeh out is yer friend. An' the second be that if yer up to neck in it, fer crissakes, have the sense to keep yer trap shut."
Sam unscrews the cap of his flask and takes another chug, looks at Neil's shirt, then at him. "I don't get it. Izzit a joke, or sumthin'?"
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Sam detaches himself from the wall after several minutes of quiet observation of the people milling about and a few healthy pulls from his flask. His allies, those as close as Sam ever came to calling friends, mingled with those who were rivals, those enemies worthy of respect. Some were both, and none were above the Wizened's suspicion. He waved and nodded at them, mumbling grettings through a mouthful of leaves as he passed. There was only one Jungle, the Woodwalker knew all too well, and none consent to make themselves prey. Some faces he had only recently met, and these received the same welcome as those he knew well, which was barely one, but what can you do about Sam when he's in that kind of mood? Nothing, and that's why none had tried. Some faces were new. And one...
One walked with the face of the tiger. And Sam Barkley knew from whence he came. He weren't the first Beast the Tiger of the Pitiless Jungle, He of the Emerald Eyes, had sent, neither. Or was he? He looked kind of like the other, didn't he, and they all looked like their poppa. Terrible, evil creatures do cats be. Sam fixed his glasses as he sidled up beside Nightfall and Al-Adin. "'ullo, Neil, Al," Sam says cordially, and then he starts talking, oblivious to whether they wanted him to or not, but behind those smoked glasses, Sam keeps one eye on the tiger in their midst. He could only spare the one.
"Ol' Mad Sam haz a story to tell. There wuz once a bird whoz wing wuz broken-like, and so it couldnae fly south fer the winter, like all its little bird friends. The winter grew cold an' dark, an' not bein a penguin or such, it was all set to freeze itself to death. The bird cried its little heart out and wuz heard by a moose, who didnae want the pretty wee bird to die, an' so the moose picked it up and placed it into one a' its big steamin' piles a' crap, an' tole the bird it would bring back some berries fer it to eat, so it wouldnae starve there. The moose left him there in the stink, but the birdie was warm, an' alive, an' after how close it had been to death, the wee bird had a song in its heart, an' it sang a joyful song. Along come a lean, hungry fox, for he had heard the bird's song, an' he was so hungry, he minded not the smell of his dinner." Sam takes a drink from his flask and continues. "There iz two morals to Sam's story. The first iz that not everyone who sticks yeh in crap is yer enemy, and not everyone who pulls yeh out is yer friend. An' the second be that if yer up to neck in it, fer crissakes, have the sense to keep yer trap shut."
Sam unscrews the cap of his flask and takes another chug, looks at Neil's shirt, then at him. "I don't get it. Izzit a joke, or sumthin'?"
Barkley, Neil, and Al continue http://nwod.org/forum/showthread.php?13023-Sam-Neil-and-Al
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Rick greets Abigail with a slight smile as the Bright One approaches, focusing on her instead of taking in the entirety of the Throne Room. Though not before noting Marcus's position. "Of course not, and don't worry about the title, just call me Rick. Have something on your mind?"
"Oh... That" Felena said softly as she tried to keep her expression neutral. it was a personal question but something she would have to be able to answer with a straight face.
"It will be 3 years ago this halloween that I escaped" Felena muttered as she blinked away the flashes of her escape that she could remember.
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Juno entered the room and looked around for a moment. For once she seemed to be relaxed, as though she wanted to be there as opposed to having to be there. She had missed out on the last Coronation because of an overindulgence of alcohol, but this time she had decided to be a bit more cautious with her consumption.
With a small nod for one familiar face or another, and a wave for Terri and Al, the Manticoress decided to settle in for the event.
Seeing Nightfall without Alice made her pause. It was a very unusual sight - one was rarely without the other, and she found herself wondering if they had split up. It was a sad thing to consider.
Making her way to the table, Juno placed a few items on a plate and moved to one side so that others could get to the food.
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Presence
Striking Looks
Goodwill"Sam, you magnificent bastard, have you taken to being the Freehold's jester? Going to give us all tall tales and candy?" Neil asked, grinning.
It was just the sort of parable he'd expect from the Dusk courtier, with the bird getting eaten at the end.
"First, your story sucks. Anyone who shits on you and then leaves isn't doing you any favors. And I'll take the moral as being when you're starving, go find some shit to eat."
Who said the bird or the moose was the hero?
"Secondly, this shirt rocks."
He opened his mouth to add something, and then considered his audience. He wasn't sure Sam had a dick, and was sure Al had no idea what to do with his.
"And who brings a flask to an open bar?"
Draft this Post
