Currently the moon is in the waning Full Moon phase (82% full).

The fountain is a wide circular pool of water some fifty feet across and about five feet deep in most places. The sculpture in the center is a mix of old and new, traditional and modern: eight concrete-and-stainless-steel slabs about six feet high are set in a rough Stonehenge-like circle around the center of the fountain. Water flows from their tops, cascading in bright mesmerizing sheets to the pool below. Rising above the steel circle is a large marble statue of the Water Bearer, an androgynous figure draped in robes of flowing water. It bears a large jug carved with various Greek symbols, from which pours a seething torrent of water into the pool at its feet.

Cars on the nearby street have an excellent view of the park as do any residents of the tall buildings which line the waterfront.

The murky waters of the Columbia River flow swiftly along the east side of the park. Bracketing the park to the west is First Street and the city of St. Claire. Recent construction work is creating an earthen berm several feet high all along the borders of the park in all directions.

Natalie gets out of a little green pickup parked at the edge of the park, the slamming of the door marking her exit. She aims a fist at the truck's door, then slides both of her hands into her pockets as she navigates the curb and the expanse of park, heading straight for the fountain with little meandering and scarcely any homage given to the concrete pathways.

Laying down on a steel-and-wood bench, listening to the water cascading down from the spout of the Water Bearer statue's jug, is the Shadow Lord halfmoon Kenneth. The youth stares blankly up towards the sky, watching the clouds drift. No one bothers him, yet.

Natalie enters the fountain clearing on the far side from the Lord; she studies the Water Bearer for a long moment, eyes tilted up, then exhales on a long breath and starts circumnavigating the pool. Her path isn't entirely circular: she veers wide around a wet patch where the wing's been playing toss with the water, and her attention's on her feet, not on any other of the park's inhabitants.

Kenneth has a leg loosely draped over the arm of the bench he lays on. A perceptive eye would notice the slightly darkened patch of color on the dark blue denim - a brownish patch. A patch of dried blood. The Shadow Lord himself, doesn't exactly hear footsteps above the sound of the miniature falls and hence doesn't notice the galliard yet. His left hand absentmindedly rolls the two rings with emerald setting strung around his neck by a ballchain, and the golden bands catch and glitter in the sun's errant rays.

Surrounded by an invisible but 'black' aura, Kenneth is a tall dark stranger waiting to happen. The uncomfortable atmosphere penetrates his otherwise decent social graces, making him seem at first impression, unapproachable. But, he is young and in reality rather attractive. His body is lean, not intimidatingly muscled but nonetheless carries in it a high athletic potential. His dark hair is trimmed to a decent length and styled in a fashionable manner. The majority of his forelocks sweep to one side while a secondary section pokes off the other direction. The body flows back to feather out at the tips, giving his hair quite a bit of a young TV star appeal.

Hairtips hanging just over his eyes, they accentuate the features and shape of his face. At first impression, he may seem completely Asian by heritage, but at a more direct glance, there are a few traits that hint at a mixture of bloodlines both Western and Eastern. What stands out underneath the mild slants of his eyebrows are his nearly black eyes that rarely highlight with a grey color in strong lighting. The cold neutrality of his gaze is of one that wishes to prove the worth of their existence, but more than anything makes him seem alone.

Casually dressed, Kenneth has on a white, collared button-down shirt left open at the top and hanging out of his pants at the hem. It covers over a thin black tanktop, and accompanies a pair of dark blue jeans and white sportshoe. Around his neck, a long thin ball-chain loops around with a unique and expensive looking pair of twin gold rings, both with a small glittering emerald setting.

Something catches the Galliard's attention; her head jerks up like a nervous horse's and she spends a good five seconds staring at the boy before she approaches, stopping a few feet from his shoes. "It's... Kenneth, yes?"

Kenneth's black eyes narrow, reverie broken by the approach of another through some naturally invisible border. The Shadow Lord's head lifts off the bench, looking at the Walker elder neutrally, but at the same time not quite amiably. "Yea," he replies. The statement leaves off, his expression turning expectant of some unspoken purpose for the galliard to have addressed him. "You want a seat?"

Nat's left hand makes a cutting gesture at waist level while her right slips back into her pocket - her fingers tucked into the fabric while the thumb slides into the belt loop. "I'm fine, thanks. You free? Figure we might talk a bit if you're... since we ran into each other."

Kenneth rolls his leg off the bench, and one might notice the arc is stiffly taken. Definitely, the halfmoon is injured even though he tries to ignore it. Sitting up, he leans back against the dark wood of the bench back and looks over at the galliard. "This is rare," he remarks plainly. "You, talking to me, after blowin' me off months ago for running into your boy on the street and showin' him the way home." There's a deliberate note of caution in there as he mentions the past.

"I hold grudges the way some people hold onto liferafts," she replies, blunt as he. "But he's gone now. --I wanted to give you my sympathy, by the way. I didn't agree with what he did - or how he did it - but losing a," there's a slight hesitation, "a brother like that is rough. Doesn't matter what he is."

Kenneth tenses along the shoulder line, jaw working slightly upon mention of the fallen. "Shit happens," he finally replies after a minute of just the sounds of water falling. "But that's not why you're out here. And it's not why you're talking to me now." His words are cool and collected, but also exploring. The Shadow Lord's gaze settles again on the Walker.

Natalie shrugs easily, tongue exploring the front side of her teeth, and doesn't let her eyes meet his his. The slab just past his head and over it requires further study. "I'm out here because I wanted some air. I'm talking to you..." Her eyes flick to his face for less than a second and back to the concrete, "because it's what I do. --I heard you've got a new band leader, for instance. A cousin of my band leader."

Kenneth inclines his head back, his own gaze shifting off and to the fountain. "Old news," he remarks. "But yea. Those two don't get along though, obviously." He doesn't seem concerned about the affairs of the Get. "And Dillen's just Dillen."

"Old news," she says casually, "but new to me. I've only known for a few days. So are you going to keep to the same places you did before?"

Kenneth rolls a shoulder in a shrug. "Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn't matter to me, as long as the fight keeps going in the right direction." He looks back to the galliard for a second. "You?"

Nat's left hand slips into a pocket as well, mirroring her right. "Same old, same old. Looks like we're getting another boxer to join up. One of the Greeks." Her air of casualness may be obvious, but it's firmly in place as she speaks to the Shadow Lord. "Had a small favor to ask you, actually. Megan asked it a while ago, but then things exploded and this is the first chance I've gotten."

Kenneth smirks. "Finally," he replies, "was wondering when you'd finally stop dickin' around the point and pull the trigger." The philodox cracks his neck a couple of times and eyes the galliard, waiting.

"No trigger," she denies, blue eyes drifting off the concrete and down to his face. "She wants your club to go check out the Brothers' territory. Make sure things really are sleeping there. I don't know why you specifically, because you're on the other side from us, but..." Her shoulders lift, fall. "You don't tell her no. At least, I don't. Anyway, it's been quiet for weeks. I don't expect you'll find anything, so put as much of a rush on it as you want."

Kenneth remains flatline dead in expression beyond the occasional shine of the Beast's gaze in his eyes. "If you're talking about Bridge Street," Kenneth says after a moment, eyes looking back to the fountain, "You're gonna have a time with that. They're all black. And they had a change in heads awhile ago. Probably the same guy now, but nothing's been happening with 'em. Their street cred got fucked with all the wolf talk and nothing doing." He pauses, recalling. "As far as I know, Groundskeeper had her kin on it, and found out about who was dealing them the silver."

Natalie shakes her head at his information, at least until his pause. "--All that I know. We had a Copperfield come in and do a little scrubbing. Megan wants you - probably so we don't trigger any repressed memories - to do a quick sweep of their area, make sure they aren't harboring any naughty thoughts. Like I said, my glee club hasn't heard a peep out of them since the bleach went in, but what the boss wants, the boss gets. Even if it is delayed."

The Shadow Lord doesn't answer immediately. Kenneth thinks over all that's been said so far, before he looks back to the Walker. "Requiem can do that," he answers after. "But you should probably get your kin on it too, if they got street connections." The halfmoon looks Natalie up and down. "While the moon's big, we aren't gonna be doin' too much unless people want to take the risk of stray dogs on the street."

Natalie shakes her head again, pulls her left hand free to 'stop' him. "Whoa doggie. I don't think we're on the same wavelength. She didn't want you to go in and clean them out. Nothing... enthusiastic, is what it sounded like to me. This is all... subtlety. Information, not extermination. Leave them in place, and no one will have to fill the vacuum." Her eyebrows lift inquiringly: has he gotten it yet?

"I'm not a dog. And I wasn't saying we're goin' in the clean house," Kenneth growls out now. "I'm saying that you want someone to get on this right away, you need someone who isn't gonna freak those guys out just by walking up to them." He runs a hand through his hair, breathing out in a hiss as he adjusts his leg position. "But I never miss on planning for Plan B."

His growl sparks an answering flare of temper from the Galliard; her, "It's a damn figure of speech," is a bit too vehement for even the moon's effect. "--I don't care what you do or how you do it. I'm just passing along the information. Megan wants this, not me. I'm just trying to make sure you're starting on the right page."

Kenneth pushes up to his feet, using the bench back as a moment's support before he straightens out. "This is your pack's problem," he utters, voice just tuned on the low side of level. "But like I said before. As long as the fight goes in the right direction, doesn't matter to me. When Lucas was at the front, he and Signe did some shakin' hands. Together, downtown is ours to watch the sheep with." He leans his chin down a touch, eyes remaining on the Walker. "We do what needs to be done. Plain and simple."

Natalie cocks her head, eyebrows drawing down again, her irritation shifting to one side under this new information. "--She did? That I never heard. So. Sounds like we are talking about the same thing. Anything else I ought to hear about? If not, I think I'd better go back to my walking. Things are a bit too big for comfort."

"Whatever," Kenneth rumbles out. "As long as things Get Done," he remarks again. "As for what else you ought to know about..." he trails, glancing back to her. "Emma doin' alright?"

"She's... Emma," Nat says of her packmate, her eyes if not her attention drifting back to the monolith behind him. "Self-conscious about her hair, since she thinks it'll link her back to your... experience at the pool hall. I told her to get a wig, but I don't think she will."

Kenneth then nods slowly, unmoving from where he stood. "Fair enough. No heat's been breathing down our necks for it. Anyway - I'm keeping you from doing things." That's how he finishes, looking off. "Tell your cubs the Shadow Lord says 'hi'." Here he grins to one side.

Natalie says, "I'll tell her that." She hesitates for a second, then offers a stiff, "Gaia watch you," before cutting off ninety degrees from him, escaping the circle and fountain with a brisk, no-nonsense stride.

Kenneth watches the Glass Walker head off. "Later," he tacks on to the galliard's back as she departs, veil dropping over his eyes once more as he turns to the fountain.

[End of log]