Don't do it, Stag Girl

Hector Ghosh
The heat can go fuck itself.

Up until three of their five departed for their homelands or other parts of the country they could have spoken to each other via the hazy bindings thread between them thanks to Fog but those days are over and they've had to rely on things like satellite relays and text messaging.

So Hector is standing outside the city at a rest stop in wait of his lone remaining pack-sister who has a car or is coming in on a bus or is at least Supposed To Be Here Soon. And Hector is not dressed for the weather. Being dressed for the weather would involve lying in the shade wearing as little clothing as possible and he's wearing the last outfit Tamsin dedicated for him.

The last outfit Tamsin dedicated for him, when they were in Canada.

He scowls up at Helios and ties his hair back with a band he finds in the pocket of his jeans and waits.

Tamsin Hall
Tamsin doesn't quite coalesce out've the heat. There's a shiver of heat above the asphalt of highway, and though she doesn't quite coalesce out've it, she sidles around it - pushes through it, two low pig-tails limp, fly-away strands looking to begin elf-locking and tangling very soon, some bohemian hippy-hat made of straw with colored brim with a choke-hold around her throat, ipod earbuds firmly in place and her head bowed as she disconsolately skips through unworthy offerings from shuffle. She's got a duffel hanging from one shoulder, and she's carrying a guitar case, and there's no sign of a car. She squints one eye, shielding her face, when she's closer to the rest stop - maybe she picks out Hector's figure, the instinctual happypuppywiggle of recognition that just posture scrawled against a horizon'll give, or maybe something else catches her attention. Alertness is not her forte. Trudge, trudge, trudge, then: "HEY!" with a note of question.

Hector Ghosh
The Uktena slouches against a concrete pylon and stares off into nothing, his brow set against the sun, smoking a cigarette and wondering why in the hell he didn't have Tamsin dedicate him a pair of sunglasses. Thinking about her does not make her magically appear but he's thinking about her and then she's there and he doesn't know she's there until he hears her.

HEY!

And he whips his head around like a puppy what's just heard its name. Last she remembers of him he was bruised up from his ill-fated fight with He Who Shall Not Be Named and talking about how maybe it'd be better if they broke it off too and they didn't end up breaking it off too. Now he looks like he's had enough sleep and enough to eat. He flashes a white-toothed grin and tosses down the cigarette and starts towards her, the hem of his unbuttoned flannel shirt flapping a bit in the nonexistent breeze.
Picks up speed as he gets closer and then he ducks down a bit so he can grab her up in a hug. If her feet leave the ground that's nothing he's worried about. Doesn't quite spin her all the way around but they do spin, not as fast as the planet under them but fast enough that when he sets her down again he's lost his breath.

"Ugh," he says, "you stink."

Tamsin Hall
Tamsin is happyhappy to hug and spin with Hector all rambunctious and full of glee and a bit more pep although that doesn't un-lilt her hair or her sad hat and she doesn't drop her guitar case so it probably bumps his skinny hips and is an uncomfortable reminder of the world on the back of his head or his shoulder or hell guitar cases are jerks. But she sets it down when he sets her down again and: "Fuck you," she says, punching him hard-ish in the ribs, with a brooding look and then a mocking grin, "How can you even smell me over yourself, dude. Fucking cigarettes and boy b.o. Didn't realize we needed to get a shaman to wake up your deodorant stick."

Hector Ghosh
Sparseness in build leaves him little protection against blunt attacks and he doesn't protect his ribs quickly enough. He could have. She knows he has the reflexes of a jungle cat. But she's smaller than him and she doesn't do that much damage so he gives her the brief satisfaction of nailing him in the side and making him jolt with the impact.

"If Gaia wanted us to smell like fresh pine, we'd sweat sap. This is the smell of glory, baby."
Some of his hair snuck loose of its bindings during the spin and he pushes back the strands as they come to stand facing each other.

"IT'S SO HOT," he says to no one just before peeling off his flannel with the intent to tie it around his waist. "How's Nora? She drop the baby yet?"

Tamsin Hall
"Shit. Fuck. Wait. Hold on." Tamsin remembers her ipod which she'd pretty much been holding, tugs one of the earbuds out of her ears and thumbs over to the time. "Okay. Saw you a minute ago and," Tamsin gives Hector a speculative look. "The shirt's already off. New record. Practicing for when we get into the city proper?" Her muddy hazel-gray eyes are capable of malicious innocence; witness now. The maliciousness is faux, though the mockery is not; let's not forget that she is actually happy to see him (tease him), that she missed him (and he didn't go away).

There's a frisson of relief when he asks about Nora, not the car, and Tamsin's expression becomes sober. "Nora is Nora, and yeah, she did. It's a boy. Neil gave me some jerky for you, but uh, I ate most of it, sorry. I think I still have a strip or two. Let's get into the effing shade."

Hector Ghosh
A stream of curses and he does wait hold on, waits holds on with his arms out at his side and the shirt turned half inside out, hanging from his leather-choked wrists. He wears alloy rings on nearly every finger and bracelets that tie instead of snapping into place and he's got a hoop through the cartilage of one ear. Necklaces draped overtop the white undershirt left behind with the flannel shed. Probably wears more jewelry than the Fiann does but he claims every piece on him has some sort of significance.
Then the insult finishes and he grins half-evil in that way that says he's trying real hard to look all-the-way evil. Gets his wrists out of the armholes and flicks the smoke-smelly shirt at her upper arm.

"How am I supposed to find a nice city girl who wants to have lots of little true-born babies if I don't take my shirt off?"

Tamsin Hall
"Hey!" The shirt gets her; she didn't see it coming. Tamsin jerks back with - savagery leashed - apparent alarm from the shirt; kicking the corner of the guitar case and giving Hector another broody look. It wipes away the solemnity, at least? She picks up her things, and giving him wide berth, makes for the shade, though she keeps sending him quick watchful glances. "I don't know, in your case leaving the shirt on might help..."

Hector Ghosh
"What!"

He trots after her and slings his shirt over his shoulder like to holster it. Doesn't take long to catch up to her and when he does he falls into step beside her. They find what shadow exists beneath a small crop of trees lining the sidewalk. He puts his hands into his pockets then.

"I've totally been working out. Calisthenics. They say the biggest strongest bad-assest warriors didn't get that way twinking out following these badass spirits off into battle. You know what they would do? Move boulders and shit around the caerns until they were super jacked."

Tamsin Hall
Tamsin drops everything again, then opens one of the pockets of the duffel, hunting around until she finds a plastic bag of maple-smoked jerky, which she throws at Hector's head. "Really," she says, cocking her head, but keeping her eyes in shadow. She remembers the hat, and impatiently claws it off, the string getting tangled up in her ear and one of her pig-tails tangled up that string, so it's an annoying process. "I can see that. Boulders are the strongest, they'll test your strength; a battle has other tests too. How is Lola?"

Hector Ghosh
This time he manages to snatch the bag out of the air instead of letting it smack him in the face. Tears it open and chomps into the jerky while Tamsin wrestles with the hat and her hair and their inauspicious mingling.

How's Lola.

That takes all the flavor out of his meal. She can see it turn to dust in his mouth. He swallows anyway, folds up the plastic so what he didn't manage to finish can keep for later and pushes it into the pocket of his shirt.

"Angry," he says. "But she'll be okay. You know? She's pretty tough."

Tamsin Hall
Tamsin's smile is as sharp as a theurge's moon - or maybe just as slight; just as attended by the night sky, by the shadows. She shrugs, head still down though her eyes are up, and she's toying with the brim of her straw hat, slowly destroying it. Whatever dustbin she got it from, whatever hippy gave it to her, it's not going to survive for very long. "Yeah, well. Words to remember. Angry, but she'll be okay." He Who Must Not Be Named - well, his name - surfaces in her mind; she almost speaks it, but in the end tamps down on the urge, and huffs out, gratefully sinking onto the ground, lolling across her duffel like it's a feather bed. Her profile is solemn, even though that dark smile lingers. "I'm looking forward to seeing her again, 'cause - we're staying here for a while, yeah?"

Hector Ghosh
Even if she doesn't say the other male's name he hears it and almost scowls the way he scowled up at the sun earlier, nothing to be done for either. He stands over her another few moments after she abandons upright posture and his height between the sky and her lends another layer of shadow to the scant coolness they hide in now.

"Yeah," he says. "What with all the brush fires they've been having they're looking for strapping young folks to keep things from getting out of control. Even if the land weren't burning she'd let us stay, but I told her we'd help out around the Bawn for as long as we're here."
Too used to being with Maria who couldn't stand to stay in one place for too long. Doesn't occur to him they might be rooted here now.

Tamsin Hall
"The Whites have a ranch. Neil told me about 'em, but I've heard of 'em before when we were visiting; apparently they're very friendly. I thought maybe we could stop there and see if they've got some floor - or better yet," and here, she groans, "a fucking bed - that we could use for a night or two. I don't wanna intrude on Lola too much, considering the fact that ... Then again, maybe she'd like that. What'cha think?"

Hector Ghosh
At mention of a bed he gives up standing and lets his leg fold coltish so he falls back on his ass on the ground beside her. Legs stick out akimbo and he drapes the flannel over his head like a lazy headdress.

"I've known her for a long time but I don't know her that well," he says. "You know? Other than Maria telling me stories about her. She could be one of those kin who actually likes putting people up or she could be one of those ones who gets put off her breakfast every time she sees us. But she picked me up from the train station and drove me into town even after I told her her sister was dead and it was my fault, so, you know. There's that."

Hector Ghosh[oh crap inits! +7]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (1) ( fail )
Tamsin Hall(+6)
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (3) ( fail )
Hector Ghosh[AH STOP HITTING ME - defensive action]
Tamsin Hall[YOU. FUCKING. IDIOT. DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT SHIT AROUND ME OR I WILL KICK YOUR BUTT aka punch.]
[Brawl + Dex, I guess? +WP, I guess.]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 4 ) [WP]
Hector Ghosh[OW!!
dex + brawl, block!]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 5, 7, 7, 9, 9) ( success x 4 )
Tamsin Hall[AUGH. SOMEHOW EVEN MORE ANNOYING. Let's see you block this beat down! Same diff.]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 6, 6, 9) ( success x 3 )
Hector Ghosh[ack!!]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 4, 5, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 3 )
Tamsin Hall[this is pissing me off. SPENDING RAGE for that extra action. because i'm annoyed. first attack!]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 5, 7, 9) ( success x 2 )
Hector Ghosh[lol what is that is there a fresh mountain breeze]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 4, 4, 5, 6, 10) ( success x 2 )
Tamsin Hall[D8<]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )
Tamsin Hall[I swear, if this bounces off of your CalisthenicswhateverabsI'ma...]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 3 )
Hector Ghosh[OW!! SOAK!]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (5, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )
Hector Ghosh[OKAY PLAYTIME'S OVER
1: pin her down.]
Tamsin Hall[I GIT YOU. Headlock!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 7, 7) ( success x 2 )
Hector Ghosh[Oh jesus christ REVERSE HOLD REVERSE HOLD needs 4 successes and is using Dex instead of Strength because CHEATER]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 3, 6, 7, 7, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 7 ) Re-rolls: 2 [WP]

Hector Ghosh
It's a fairly sorry display and it goes on as long as it does because Hector thinks Tamsin is joking. That first punch she throws is hard and angry but he still thinks she's joking. Like a baby kitten trying out its claws for the first time.

(He's seen her with her claws out before. She isn't a kitten.)

But then she burns through that fire inside even the youngest of No-Moons to hit him a second time and she doesn't hit him hard enough to do anything more than leave a scanty Fianna-sized bruise that he won't find until morning.

"Hey!" he says, sharp, like one would say to said baby kitten when the claws turn to the carpet.
And she tries to put him in a headlock then but he's faster than her and he's stronger than her. She goes for his neck and he catches her wrists before they can lock around him and a second later she's slamming onto her back on the grass and Hector is pinning her down like that, like if he just waits long enough she'll calm down.

His flannel lies on the grass but this is still the sight that greets anyone walking from the air conditioned convenience store to their vehicle: a raw-boned long-haired Indian man holding down a meatless pale-skinned girl.

"Will you cut it out?" he asks, calm as. Bastard isn't even out of breath.

Tamsin Hall
Tamsin doesn't look like she's going to calm down. Her eyes are furious, and her breath leaves her with a grunt when her back slams into ground, and there's nothing intimidating about it, about this simmering, seething anger as she glares at Hector. Then at the sky behind Hector's head. Then at his fucking collarbone. Unfortunately for her, he is too smart to put certain delicate portions of his anatomy within easy kneeing, so she doesn't immediately slam back and try to play dirty. "Will you?" she says, savagely, and then -- lo.

An intruder. A Good Samaritan. Mid to late thirties, strong, with one of his bros back at the truck, and they're both like: what the hell is going on over there. He says, "Hey, what the hell's going on over there." He's to the point. "You need help?"

And Tamsin snaps, before Hector can reply -- literally snaps, it seems, twisting her head to the side to glare at the would-be helpful gent: "I'm into bondage, you got a fucking problem with our PDA, dickhole? I got a problem with your face, so too fucking bad unless you can change that."

Hector Ghosh
Of all the things one can say about Hector, the least flattering thing one can say is at least he knows how to protect himself from debilitating but impermanent pain. He learns from experience is more like it. Once kneed, twice shy. He uses his knees to pin her legs. She's not going anywhere without some divine or otherwise outside intervention.

The dudebro at Hector's back doesn't catch his attention until he reaches out with his voice and then Hector only looks half-away to make sure it's not a human lawgiver. He doesn't sound like a lawgiver. He sounds like a meathead.

By the time Tamsin gets to dickhole Hector is having serious trouble maintaining his grip. If he laughs now that will either assure the Good Samaritan of the nothingness of the situation or make him call in the real human lawgivers. He doesn't laugh at dickhole. He laughs at so too fucking bad and it's the trying-not-to-laugh kind of laughter too, the kind that sounds like road rash.

Tamsin Hall
Too bad Good Samaritan is gaping, angrily, at Tamsin and Hector right now; if he wasn't, Tamsin would've pressed her advantage, escaped, and socked Hector in the jaw. The guy stares; then says something about punk kids and little bitches, while his friend - off by the truck - lifts his voice in query. The important thing is G. S. is turning away again, and Tamsin tries to push the laughing Uktena up and off'a her, muttering, "see what you did."

Hector Ghosh
He drops onto the grass beside her, ready to grab her again if she launches herself at his throat but she's not as battle-hardened as her pack-brother is. Going at him like she did took a bit out of her. For what it's worth he looks contrite. He had to have known the moment he said it that what came out of his mouth was wounded talk and not the truth.

Sometimes they're the same but he is struggling to distance himself from what happened enough to tell it clear and honest. So other than telling the Warders at the Caern they left behind he's avoided telling at all.

"I'm sorry," he says, and picks up his shirt from where it fell off his head earlier. "That was a dumb thing to say."

Tamsin Hall
"It's also a lie," Tamsin says, sitting up and gazing moodily in the direction of that prick who called her a bitch, although human's in control again, and why would she pick a fight with an older guy, especially one who just wanted to help.

Hector Ghosh
"Don't do it, Stag Girl," he says. Reaches out to tug one of her pigtails like it would be better for her to try to punch him in the face again than accost some poor norm who was sort of minding his own business. "Let's just get out to Roxborough, huh? What'd you do with the car, anyway?"

Tamsin Hall
Tamsin gives Hector a measuring look - one that flits away after a second, swallowed in a sigh. A sigh that becomes a very, very guilty countenance, overlaid with desperately pretended dignity. Her ears betray her; they go right up, and she swallows. "Uh, the car is gone. The Ents got it." Cheerfully, she struggles to her feet, "I'm gonna use the little girl's room then we can get hiking."

Hector Ghosh
"Oh my god you suck!"

Said with love, even with the prospects of walking all the way home ahead of them. As she starts up and heads towards the bathroom he calls after her:

"Can't you call that White guy?"

Tamsin Hall
"Uh, I think I pissed him off, Hector. He just called me a bitch."

Hector Ghosh
He flops onto his back on the grass. Just before he drapes the shirt all the way over his face:

"I hope you fall in!"

Tamsin Hall
There is a second in which Tamsin considers stomping on his ribs. But that's not what Gandalf would do, and she doesn't have a staff, so she just huffs out hard through her nose and walks to the rest room.

finis