The deck of cards makes a sound reminiscent of a flight of birds as Son shuffles them on the top of a water-stained cardboard box. Sitting on an upturned bucket in the midst of Tent City, he watches the sunlight glint off a patch of broken glass. The sound of blaring horns and rumbling engines reverberate from above, the ramblings of a mad god.

Son closes his eyes, concentrating on the music of the cards, the beating of many wings. He holds the thought in his head for several heartbeats, then lays out a spread of six cards in the form of a cross. He examines the signs, contemplating their meaning. He lays down four more cards in a vertical column, to the right of the first set. He eyes the spread of cards before him. The intricate symbols and images he painfully inscribed long ago reveal peril and enterprise. He reads them like a book. Reaching down, he picks up the tenth card, the outcome: A crumbling tower being struck down by lightening from the sky.

Chaos. Revelation. Disillusion. Ruin.

He scatters the cards, collects them, and begins shuffling again. After a moment, he stops and sets the deck down. He reaches into his bag, pulling out a jar of dried tobacco and a thin piece of paper. He rolls a cigarette, lights it, and inhales deeply.

Something is going to fall, he thinks, blowing three smoke rings in quick precession. The wind catches them, scattering the smoke.

High above, heaps of rusting metal sputter and cough.  

--Last edited by son on 2008-07-23 02:13:37 --

I walk on over with a two can of bean heated on top a Trash Can Fire. "You be hungry, my friend. I made some extra." I hand over the can of ranch bean. The can is wrap and some old forgotten fabric to keep burning sensation from his hands. I just let my hands burn to help build stronger hands. I dig trough my giant military bag and pull out one silver spoon and one wooden stick. I hand over silver spoon to my friend. “I’m expecting my junk back but it now time for us to feast. The Star can wait my friend until are belly are full just like our Dream.” I began to eat with my hand carved stick. It could be consider a spoon but it just doesn’t seem to work properly but that dose not stop me from filling my gullet."how about we trade a story or two but i want you to start?"  

--Last edited by Yuri on 2008-07-24 21:49:02 --

Whisper will walk into Tent City unhindered.  Normally he would never be separated from the Others but there are times where one must tend to things.  Throughout everything they have been through to get here and even though they had finally reached their destination Whisper still yearned for the expansive  forests and plains of his homeland.  But now He's here, and has been set on a mission that must be completed.

Walking through the camp of the homeless, forgotten, derelict, and lost of society Whisper is striking yet common looking figure.  He is, as is commonly seen, barefoot walking through the dirt and across concrete.  He wears an old olive green army jacket  that has seen to many wars and is shirtless.  A leather thong holds a collection of glyphed stones is draped around his neck.  His old cargo pants are woven from as natural materials as could be found, his are hemp fiber.  Slung over his shoulder is an old bag and he carries two gallon jugs of water.

Whisper will walk up beside Son and Yuri, it should be noted that he is rarely seen, by anyone, away from his two companions.  

While situating his belongings....

"I'm afraid the springs like I had back home don't bring forth water here, but I did find a small creek in a wooded area relatively close, it's good water, not this water that the humans drink.  I should have brought us enough for a few days.  *he sets down the two gallon jugs of water between his two companions*  

So what do the cards say?"

Whisper will listen to Son and Yuri as he pulls the bag off his shoulder and pulls out a canvas pouch that seems to be full of fresh earth.  Whisper will walk just behind the two garou and kneel down to a small sapling that has managed to push it's way through the pavement.  Whisper will empty the canvas bag of fresh turned earth onto the ground around the sapling...

Quietly to the small tree.

"I've finally found some good earth for you..."

"Beans?" Yuri looks at whisper and offers his can. “I believe comrade will grace us with a story." I nudge son, " come on shows what’s you got."

Whisper places a hand on Yuri's shoulder and squats down on his proverbial "haunches" between the to.  Taking what remains of the can of bean he takes a few bites and hands it back...

"Thanks, oddly enough they taste really good when you haven't had some real food in a while..."

Whisper will lean over to Son and place his hand on Sons shoulder as well...

"Is it really that ominous...?"

"That only 'pends on ya point of view..."

He drops the last bit of burning paper from his hand, smothering it into the dirt with the heel of his bare foot.

"Unfortunately, I don't rightly know where we stand. This city 's still damn strange to me. I gotta properly 'tune ma'self to its rhythm... its heartbeat... fore I can focus ma' sight."

Son picks up one of the cans and begins to scoop the beans into his mouth, using the bent lid as a crude tool.

"Story sounds like a fair trade... just lemme gage the quality of these fine beans and I'll compensate ya with a story of equalin value."

He grins at Yuri, who knows full well that he will get a story much better than ranch beans.  

--Last edited by Son on 2008-07-28 16:08:17 --

Sean arrives riding bitch on a black harley, the driver is a biker easily 6'6'' and 300 pounds, that sean smoked up for a ride to tent city.

He has his bass on his back his skateboard in one hand and his back pack tied around his waist. Hes wearing half of a plain white t-shirt ripped of slightly over his belly button but goes up on one side almost to his armpit. He has on plain jean shorts and his converse, and of course his dirty bandana covering his greasy braided hair.

He makes his way over to the men cooking beans, and pulls out 2 cans of chef boyardee.

"you guys mind if i make my beefaroni over here?" he asks them holding them in his hands with his big smile.

Son spits in the dust, to the left of Sean's feet.

"Don't reckon we mind none, stranga."

Looking at each of his companions in turn, getting a short nod from each of them Whispers-to-the-Earth will speak up.

Guestering a hand across from the three of them...

"Please take a seat"

Whisper will eye this newcomer, trying to catch the wind with this mans scent on it. Wary of this newcomer but welcoming of all Children of the Sacred Mother, He will tolerate this mans company for the moment.  

--Last edited by Whisper on 2008-08-01 20:03:13 --

Sean sits down cross legged, Placing the cans of beefaroni at his sides for now, "Ive never seen you here before, are you knew to tent city?.. My name is Sean, sorry for my rudeness."

He extends his hand to each man, and then places all his belongings on the ground behind him.

Son spits again, this time into his palm, then shakes Sean's hand.

"Folks c'all mi' Son."

Sean shakes his hand "Pleasure."

He digs in his bag until he gets a small pan, with an extendable handle. He dumps the two cans into it and stands to hold it over the trash can fire slowly moving it around over the flame.

Son finishes his can of beans, then picks up his discarded deck of cards. He begins to sort them into stacks.

Trumps, Staffs, Bowls, Blades, Pentacles.

Once that is completed, he begins organizing each stack my number, then puts all the stacks together.

He sets the deck of cards down and rolls himself a cigarette. Lighting it, he blows three consecutive smoke rings, all the while eye-ballin Sean.

Sean watches Son play with the cards while he cooks his food, "You can have some if you like its more than i can eat." He says with a smile

He sticks his pinky into the sauce to see if it is warm, and licks the sauce off as he sits back down.

Son shakes his head. The man obiously didn't catch the hint.

"Nah... I'm plen'y full."

"you know sean that you can cook it inside can no reason to dirty a pan." Yuri jump up and give a bow to sean," Yuri is my name and mischief is my game."

"its easier to hold my hands farther from the fire in the pan, less burning.... im sure i could use a stick or something to hold the can, but this is simple enough." Sean smiles "But thanks for the advice."

He digs into his bag pulling out a spork, he begins eating "If anyone of you want some just speak up."

Son finishes his smoke and stomps the last of the burning embers with his foot. He spits into the dirt at his feet, glancing at Yuri out of the corner of his eye.

"Shee'it... I'm supposin' yer wantin a story."

Son runs his hand through his hair, scratching his scalp. After a few moments of this, he spits in his palm and slicks his hair back into place. He rolls himself another cigarette from his jar of tobacco.

"Allrite, I gotta story for ya. It ain't long... but its gotta point."

Son takes a long drag, letting the smoke wisp slowly from his mouth.

"I got this cousin named Billy... 'n heeze one tough sunabich. Got that there fool moon blud runnin right round 'n is hed. Why, I once saw him go divin' right down the gullet o' one o' them there thunderin worms. Boy go bustin right out the side, all screemin and hollarin. Wooh, it was a sight ta see."

For a moment, Son's eyes shift to Sean, watching for any sign of recognition.    

"Anyways... so I got this cousin Billy and heeze sittin on down the riva wit this turtle. Now, him and this turtle, see, are real close; thick as theives, as it were. So the turtle turns ta Billy 'n asks him, Are you free? Well, Billy ain't the brighest of folks, but shit, he knows heeze a free'man, so he says Course I'm free! I am Billy Blood-Claw, the mitest werrier round. I can do any damn thing I want. So that turtle asks him Could you kill me? And Billy starts laughin at this. Easy he bellows, I am Billy the Battle-Scared. Songs are gonna be sung bout me for tin thousand yers, and yer just a turtle! So the turtle looks at him for a moment then replies So kill me, in his most challengin voice. Billy looks down at the turtle sayin But you are my deerist frend, I couldnt ever kill ya."

Son takes the last drag of his cigarette, exhailing a huge cloud before finishing.

"Exactly, said the turtle. And my cousin Billy, the bravest man I ever did know, shuttered."

This time, when Son drops the last bits of burning paper to the ground he doesnt stomp it out. He just sits there, watching the embers smoke and smolder, letting his words sink in.  

--Last edited by Son on 2008-08-03 22:42:38 --

Sitting in between the two men who make up his Family, Whisper will keep eyes on this man who now sits across from him.  Whisper has always had the keen sight of his Lupine brothers, even when in the form of the two-legs.  The eyes of the wolf are present even now, their cold blue gaze crosses this man, examining him trying to identify him as friend or foe.

Placing a big hand on Sons shoulder, he will nod in affirmation at the story, and yet despite every fiber of his being Whisper cannot remember anything before his first change.  Not his Kin, not his Brothers or Sisters, none of it.  The stories of Thomas Silver-Tooth, Calls-to-the-East, Dances-on-the-Water he has heard, the stories of a number of his Family are heard from Caern to Caern, and yet he cannot remember any of them as his own blood.  

Whisper will turn to Sean and though unintentional, speaks with a hint of growl, a touch of his inner Nature.

"So what brings you to a place like this young one?"

At best he sounds like the gruffest voiced man Sean has heard...ever.

"No where else to go is there? isnt that why were all here?" He smiles and eats some more of his beefaroni.

"Im just suprised i havent seen you dudes around here before." He looks at all of them trying to remember if hed seen them before.