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Big Red Barn

The barn is built in the old style, a vast three level structure that is greater in height than a mere three stories, actually closer to five. Great wooden posts support the weight of the upper levels and roof, sunk into the hard-packed dirt floor of the first level like a sparse forest of regularly spaced, naked trees. The stalls and flagstones which once were here have been torn out to leave a rather open area where even crinos Garou may roam freely without fear of running into anything but the supports or the walls or the ladder at the back which allows access to the other two levels.

The first two levels are relatively open to each other, the second being only little wider than a catwalk going around all the walls but the front one, which has massive, twenty foot tall doors set into it. The third level is a true second floor except for a place cut out that allowed hay to be tossed down to the ground floor when the farm was actually worked. Now, it is a hayloft where Garou can sleep outside of the house.

Contents:

Anthony
Ashley

Obvious exits:
BarnYard

"I don't know," he replies before pulling himself up onto the second floor, turning and dangling his legs off the edge idly. "What do you want to talk about?" he asks guardedly, raising his voice a little so he'll still be heard.

"Dunno. Why do you act like a pussy for half the times?" Artemis asks bluntly. "And don't say its cuz' you are a ragabash. Give me the hard truth. You came pretty close to standing up to me the other day, but then you backed down. What gives?"

Joshua enters the ground level of the barn through one of the doors.

"Because it wasn't worth the effort," Tony replies, taking off his cap and putting it on his lap. "I didn't want ... I mean, well ..." He trails off, looking to the side and furrowing his brow.

"You didn't want what? You really think I woulda done it?" Artemis asks with a killer's smirk on her face as her fingers flex a bit, muscles popping in the joints as she continues to stare up into the rafter at him.

Natalie pulls open one of the barn doors and steps through, moving immediately to the side and out of the silhouetting light.

"Why wouldn't you have?" Tony replies, looking back down at the Black Fury. "I was playing it safe. I like to play it safe when I can."

"Thats just the gamble you make in life Anthony, when you pull a trigger. Sides' we're Garou. I'm sure they'd have grown back." Artemis says smoothly as she reaches back down into her satchel, drawing out another steel tipped arrow, nocking it upon the nylon string of her war bow. She casts her eyes towards Natalie as she enters, brow raising for a moment, before taking aim at the target bullseye mounted on the wall. She lets go fluidly, splintering the wood with a loud crack.

Natalie waits a moment, perhaps to let her eyes adjust, then approaches the voices. "Afternoon," she offers, tilting her head up toward, "Anthony? What are you doing up there?"

Anthony considers the statement for a moment, then shrugs. "I guess, but --" Noticing Natalie, he stops, squinting for a moment to spot her. "What do you mean 'what am I doing up here'?" he replies, scratching his head. "I'm sitting and talking. Is there something else I'm supposed to be doing up here?"

Fwing. Thunk. Splinter. Another arrow strikes true into the bullseye. Artemis squints her eyes some as she stares through the dark barn, then grabs up another one out of the satchel.

Natalie grins up at him, her hands on her hips. "I mean, what are you doing up there? Something wrong with the ground?" She stays behind Artemis, waiting until the other woman's not occupied to add, "Natalie Baker. Intros are safe here, right, Anthony?"

"I don't know, I just felt like being up here instead of down there," Tony replies with a shrug. "Yeah, it's safe."

Artemis reaches down for another arrow, despite the fact the bullseye has about ten already sticking out of it, all tightly packed together within the middle three rings. She takes aim once more, for barely a second, then lets it sail, finding an opened spot between two arrows, cracking the wood once more.

Natalie, with an eyeroll that would do your average teenager proud, turns away from Anthony to observe Artemis and her porcupine'd target. "...Also called Holds-the-Line. Galliard, Cliath, Walker. Good shooting."

Thunk. Another arrow fires straight into the target, but the Fury doesn't answer, turn around, or say a single word.

"So, uh," Tony says, trying to break the uncomfortable silence. "What're you out here for, Nat?"

"Friendly." Nat turns her back on Artemis, her head tilted up to Anthony again. "I was out here earlier, met Joshua. I was kinda hoping to run into one of the other two, but I thought I heard voices in here." A lift of one shoulder suggests that this would be the reason the she's in here, instead of the farmhouse. "Yourself? You need a lift back to town?"

Striding forward through the dark barn, limping a bit on her right leg, Artemis reaches out and tugs out the arrows one by one with a hard yank. The health of the bullseye is failing from all the cracks and splinters from each mark, hardly an inch on it that hasn't been touched.

"No, I've got my car here," Tony replies. "So what'd you think of Josh?" he inquires, leaning forwards a little and propping himself up with his hands on the edge of the ledge.

"I'd rather not say out here," Nat replies, with a jerk of her head toward the barn doors. "I'd rather... say! Did Salem accept your idea? About the plumbing?"

Speak of the devil and he will appear: the barn door slides open, admitting yet another Glass Walker, and the lone Ahroun of the local tribe. The door is shut behind him with a grunt, the cub shifting up Glabro the moment he was in. Only then does he realize that the barn is already populated: the cub pausing midstride as he looks about the barn... and up at Tony in the rafters.

Turning around slowly, Ashley stares at the three Walkers. "Don't you got a city to crawl around in?" She shoots off with an annoyed grunt, stuffing one arrow after the other into her satchel, eyes rolling heavenwards.

"Yeah, he did, so I'm gonna start pretty soon, maybe Monday; gotta get all the stuff together before I start tearing out the pipes..." He trails off at Ashley's question, then spots the door shutting, looking over to the third Glass Walker.

Natalie's ignoring Ashley, thankyouverymuch. "Well for the love of Gaia, let people shower before you turn off the water!" Nat turns to look at Josh a moment after Tony does; the cub gets a nod. "Joshua."

Joshua nods a tight greeting to the gathered Elders, not even bothering with a responce to the Black Fury's comment as he strides without comment to the (much abused) punching bag. He proceeds to start in sparring with it, one tight punch after another with tight and practiced form.

After the final arrow is yanked off the wood and slipped neatly into her bag, Artemis shoulders it once more, eyes staring at the three, twitching some with a growl. Throwing her head up high, she makes her way to the door, limping just a bit.

"Okay, see you later," Tony says mock-cheerfully as the Black Fury hobbles towards the door. "So, um..."

Natalie looks 'round at the walls until she spots the ladder; a few moments later she joins Anthony on the nominally safer second floor. "How were you planning on getting the stuff back to the house?" she continues, just as if there weren't a Pretty Pretty Fury stomping off in a snit down below.

Anthony:

About five-foot-six and a touch on the stocky side, Anthony appears to be of Mediterranean descent, in his late teens. He has deep brown eyes framed by bushy eyebrows and high cheekbones, and his curly umber hair is close-cropped, a pair of thick sideburns running from above his ears down the sides of his jaw. Most of the time, he's slouching or leaning against something.

He wears a black windbreaker over an plain red T-shirt, a pair of black jogging shorts, and thick-soled hiking boots. A plain gold chain glints a little on the back of his neck. On his head is a faded blue baseball hat with an ornate "NY" embroidered on it in white.

He speaks quickly and in a gruff North Jersey accent, evidence of his ancestry.

Olga enters the ground level of the barn through one of the doors.

Joshua thump thump thump. He keeps up his continued barrage of blows, every now and then switching the pattern around, mostly concentrating on form. He can, however, grunt off a polite. "Good night, Rhya." to the departing Fury.

"I dunno, I'll probably rent a truck or something," Anthony says with a shrug. "I'm still working it out. I might wait until the the thing in the city blows over before I start hauling stuff around, though."

Natalie picks her way across the upper floor until she can settle beside Anthony, her legs dangling over the edge. "'F I understand it right, this 'thing' might not blow over for a while. Anyway, until he decides who's paying for what, I'm at loose ends. You can use my truck to haul stuff until then."

Yanking the doors open, Artemis grunts over her shoulder to Anthony and Josh. "G'night." She takes a moment to take in a deep breath, chin lifting upwards, before taking a few steps out.

"Well, then I'll have a good excuse for not getting anything done then, right?" Anthony replies with a grin. "Yeah, I'm gonna have to bum some money off him, too."

Joshua waits until Artemis is out, still keeping up his pratice to grunt out a simple comment between breaths. "If yer talking about 'them, 'n it won't blow over for quite a while..."

Natalie flings a bit of nothing down at the cub. "Eavesdropper," she calls teasingly. Then quieter, for Anthony's ears only, "Who was the bitch?"

"Ashley something-or-other. Black Fury. Can't be bothered to remember anything else about her," Tony replies in the same sotto voce. "She's constantly on my case about one thing or another."

Shortly after the barn doors swing shut behind Artemis, they swing open again, this time revealing a very large person with a wide, broken grin on her face which reveals teeth the colour of old blotting paper, almost the exact same shade as the sky as the sun prepares to set behind her. A great orange bag hangs over her shoulder, and she saunters in, easily, casually, her free hand tucked deep within her pocket. "Hello," she calls out as she enters, nodding at each of the Glass Walkers inside. "Josh, Tony, strange person I don' know."

"Oh, hey Olga," Tony calls back to the Gnawer, waving widely from his perch. "What's up?" he asks.

Olga is strong, lithe, and very tall, a little under six feet, eight inches. Her large, fleshy nose dominates her face, making her eyes look small and deep-set, and her chin round and unnoticable, with the total result being that she looks very inquisitive and rather stupid. A thin fuzz of white hair covers her neck and lower face, and the hair on her head is wild and thick. She is (usually) wearing a baggy plaid flannel shirt, opened to expose a shirt underneath much too tight for her, showing off her buff but very hairy stomach. Worn olive khakis complete her outfit. She has a bit of a slouch, and looks big, reedy, and dumb, a little like a troll.

Carrying:

Garbage Bag

"From what I've seen, you're not missing much," says Nat, a little louder. "Natalie," she calls back down. "Called Holds-the-Line. Galliard, Cliath. Walker." The last's added as almost an afterthought.

Joshua is boxing with the punching bag in Glabro, just getting his praticing in for the day. He stops for a bare moment, nodding another tight greeting to Olga, before whiping his brow and starting yet again.

Reggie enters the ground level of the barn through one of the doors.

Olga with some effort pulls her hand from her pocket, and impishly points her index finger up at the barn roof in response to Anthony's question. She seems to think it's amusing, at least, and her grin broadens so as to almost obscure her eyes behind raised cheeks. She takes a few wide strides towards Natalie, extending the hand that had lately been pointed, well, `up`. It's her left but her right is tied up with her bag and she doesn't really seem to care, at any rate. "Grand Duchess Olga Sergeevna Borodin," she introduces herself, cracked smile plastered on her face, "Theurge, Bone Gnawer. 'S a pleasure, `Nat`." Olga says that last a little hesitantly, seeing if the woman objects to the shortening. A nod to Joshua at his bag, and she moves off to the centre of the barn.

Eamon wanders into the barn and pokes his head in, looking around. He waves and walks in nonchalantly.

"Pleased to meet you, Your Grace," Nat quips in a voice laden with irony. "You'll forgive me for not curtseying; it's hell to do in jeans." She jerks her chin in lieu of stretching a hand down to the Gnawer. Wouldn't do to fall off the balcony. "Good to see you coming down among the populace."

Joshua shakes his head, growling softly to himself. "Too many people..." He reaches out with a meat slab hand, steadying the bag before cludding his way over to the other Glabro, nodding yet -again- as Eamon heads in. "Good evening, Ever-Grinning-Rhya." The greeting definitely doesn't sound like it is a good evening...

Eamon nods and waves to the present garou. "Hey, what's up?"

"Looks like I started a trend," Tony notes out loud at the steady influx of people to the barn.

Olga turns around when Josh greets the person behind her, peering into the light to make him out. "My people need me," she murmurs to Natalie as she does, and when she finally sees who it is, she offers him a faint grin and mild, distracted, "Oh, hey." Off she moves to a place near the back of the barn, still within sight, but decidedly out of the way.

Natalie grins crookedly at Olga, then elbows Anthony. "Hey, I'm gonna head back into town. Maybe poke my head inside first, see if those cubs are there. Wanna get together later to plan? You know anything about gardening?"

Rain splatters at the barn doors as a large man lets himself in, shaking droplets off his tanned furs. Reggie squints as he waits for his eyes to adjust to the difference in brightness indoors.

"Looks like you showed up when I usually am here, Rhya." Josh notes icily to Tony. "Nothing much, Eamon. The usual, with the all new bad smells compliments of the weaver." The cub was looking finally healed up from the last night, but a faint, foul odor still hangs around him. He looks over as Reggie enters, suddenly pulling out of his slouch at the unfamiliar face.

Eamon frowns at the mention of the Weaver, then turns and grins. "Hey, Reggie! 'Sup, man?"

"I think I'm gonna get going too, actually," Anthony says to Natalie, giving Josh a crooked frown as he stands up and starts for the ladder down to the ground floor.

Reggie:

Three hundred pounds of muscle, fat, and gristle pour unevenly down a frame over six feet, puddling in an overflowing belly barely restrained by jeans desperately calling upon extra-strong reinforced seams and solid brass hardware. Army-short hair outlines the dome of the skull, newly decorated by a circular slice cutting bone-deep evenly around its circumference. A monobrow shelters sunken, piggish eyes. An unevenly flattened nose and cauliflowered ears have evidently received many a fist in the past. A patchwork of grey wolf fur hangs over his shoulders, arms, and chest, covering distorted, hairfree skin. The hands demonstrate a history rich in manual labor, with stumpy, thick fingers and fingernails broken to the quick. His usual scent of gasoline fumes, nicotine, and alcohol is subdued, fainter, less offensive to delicate noses. His native heritage is difficult to detect beneath all the damage.

Eamon:

It seems that Eamon doesn't grin as much as he used to, as if he's been through something traumatic recently. His bright red hair has grown back fully now and the green eyes still sparkle, but some of the humor has left them. He wears a weathered black leather jacket and a black Harley-Davidson t-shirt. With the black jeans and motorcycle boots, he almost looks like a biker. Indeed, he can be seen tooling around town on a Harley, but not quite as often as usual. His left ear is pierced twice, a gold hoop through each pierce. A scruffy red goatee adorns his chin and below his lower lip. When in public, he wears thin, black leather gloves in all weather, completely covering both hands. Both hands seem to function normally, however.

Making a little pool on the dirt floor, Reggie glances askance at people pulling out of slouches, and stares blankly at Eamon for a few moments, before, "Oh, yeah. Music guy. What's 'sup, you?"

Eamon chuckles. "Not much, you? How's the pool hall these days?"

Olga watches the comings and goings from her place in the back. She perched herself on a haybale and situated her bag near her feet, looking rather like a guard dog. "Oh, it's you," is how she greets Reggie, a note of easy, familiar tension in her voice. "G'bye, guys," she calls off after the departing Walkers. "See you around Tony, and, uh, Nat."

Natalie eyes the floor as if contemplating jumping, but takes the wussy ladder instead, following Anthony down. "I'll catch you back there," she tells him, tossing a nod toward the new inmates, then another to Olga. She skirts the edge of the barn rather than cut straight across the floor, quite clearly heading for the door.

Joshua slowly reaches around his back, grasping his hands behind it. The Glabro stands nice, tight and quiet, head bowed a few degrees as the assorted Walkers leave and the remainder talk.

Anthony lets Natalie pass him, and then follows her to the door, giving the others assembled in the barn a quick wave as he heads to the door, as well.

Reggie hovers his hand in an 'eh' motion. "Not bad. This weather's good for business. People come in to dry off, and wet their whistle." He retorts to Olga's greeting with, "Yes, it's---", and he pauses dramatically, "Me!"

You pass through one of the doorways of the barn, out to the farm's barnyard.

[End of log]