From Sewer to Suburb
13th of August 2006 A.D.
As you breathe in it seems almost as though a faint breeze passes through the stagnant air of the tunnel, the scent of distant fires threading through the gaps in brick and stone. "Whatever else they are, the Jade dogs are
mine Malk. You'd do well to remember that." Shadows lean closer as you speak like councilors offering to whisper in your ear, arcane insights into the predator before you: "Today you came to meet what might have been a dangerous enemy, and have already gained back the peace you thought lost. No foolish youth are you, to risk one prize for another unsought. Rather than risking what we both seek, why shouldn't we both take more of the same? I have no real interest in what's yours, nor you in what I've claimed."
It is a statement and not a question, though before you can soften your tone the fey cat recoils. So speaks Chapalu in mewling voice behind which lurks the hiss of anger thwarted: "May you have all the joy of their degenerate company which fills all the middens of the world with reek and all the houses of men with wailing. We would not dream of robbing you of even one of such affliction."
With that he is gone into the dark... and from the sound of many claws scratching above it is clear he had even more company than you had assumed. The usual Malk pride runs at about a score to two dozen. This sounds like there are about twice than many up there. Still you had gotten a promise out of them, wrapped in insults as it may have been, and more to the point you had made it clear just how bad things could go for them if they meddled with the Jade Dogs.
***
14th of August 2006 A.D.
Essence Restored to full -> Now at 12/12
If there was a place more different to undertwon on the surface than Oak Brook some twenty odd miles from the loop you do not know what it is. In place of the dark dank tunnels wide roads and cul-de-sacs watched over by the trees for which it gets its name. No dark pools of stagnant water filled with God knows what here, only calm duck ponds, home to some very well fed ducks. And to top it all off instead of the pervasive hunger where anything and anyone can be food if they are unlucky Oak Brook has McDonald's, not a McDonald's, the worldwide headquarters.
It's what I eat and what I do, Rosie would sometimes joke mimicking the tone of the weird TV add determined to convince you that a stomach filled with fries and ground beef is just right for a day of extreme snowboarding.
Emerald expanses of lawn ripple in the morning breeze right up to the whitewashed walls of tutor houses distinguished from one another only by their choice of lawn gnomes or in the case of the house you are heading to the old Red White and Blue which must have been left there for more than a month. At least you
hope it's left over from the Fourth of July. the alternative is even more silly but Jared Wilson, Rosie's stepfather is, according to her, the kind of person who watches football religiously, side-eyes his wife and stepdaughter's Catholicism as 'foreign' and would have probably hesitated voting for JFK... on more grounds than his religion.
Mrs Wilson jerks the door open as soon as you ring the bell, like she had been waiting in front of the door to get you out of sight of the neighbors as fast as she can even though the most unusual thing you are wearing is black
phats and a few piercings. You would think you'd shown up in full studded leather neon dreads or something from her judgy looks but you had been tested and tried in the fires of far more intense disapproval so hers slides off you like water off a duck.
"Rose isn't feeling well," she announces by way of greeting.
"I know." You try to keep your tone neutral, but it's... not easy in the face of her expression. Rosie is already starting to have morning sickness though to hear her describe it it's more like random-time-of-the-day sickness. According to the internet ginger is good for that so you had brought some ginger flavored lollipops for her to talk about oneiromancy and the wisdom of a particular haunted skull.
"I think she needs to
rest."
It's all you can do not to roll your eyes. How old does this woman think her daughter is
seven? "I am sure she will be fine to talk to me."
"Miss Carpenter I am sure you have good intentions, but Rosanna has quite enough to think about without... company," a man's voice echoes from the kitchen.
Jared Wilson looks like nothing so much as an slightly-melted, few-years-past-his-shelf-life example of sporty masculinity, wide shoulders waist only just starting to expand in spite of the grey threaded through his neatly trimmed beard. Yet the face which sports that beard is somehow puffy and his eyes, which might normally be an unexceptional shade of brown, always seem to be ringed with red as if he never gets a good night's sleep.
Over the years since Rosie's mother had married him you did not have much to do with Jared, a fact which seemed to suit him as well as it had you, but now he sounded insistent, looming over you in a way that
he might think is intimidating. You would like to say that the urge to match his little power play and then some was all Usum's... but that would be a lie.
What do you respond?
[] Stare him down, you are pretty sure you do not need to talk to get Jared out of the way (+1 to Intimidation DC to make it more subtle)
[] Explain that you have some books Rosie asked you to get for her, that sounds suitability responsible right? And it's not even a lie, you did get some books from Harry to show to her in addition to your notes from talking to Bob
[] Write in
OOC: And on to the next action... and the next intimidation if that is how you guys want to play it.