|Location||Wycked Grounds, Pasadena|
|Time & Date||7/13/15|
|Summary||Tallin runs into an old friend with a new look|
(Just outside of Wycked Grounds)
Tallin makes his way out of the Wolf's Mantle and looks around slowly. He shakes his head after a moment, then sighs and starts walking along, no set destination in mind. "All this time, and at least here, on the streets, nothing really seems to have changed." He comments quietly to himself. "Doesn't really give me hope for a better future."
Wyck is seated in an old lounge chair beside a weathered winibago which is parked near 'Wycked Grounds' coffee house. Apparently just having completed washing the old 'Wini' down, he's taking a break while it tries. Shirtless, if only not to get it wet, he's wearing a pair of NEON green flip flops and an old pair of cargo shorts which look ready to fall off him at a slight breeze. The occasional person wanders by and he waves to them or makes the occasional friendly gesture. "Hey..." he comments to Tallin...
Tallin hears the voice, and something about it triggers a memory from some time ago. Turning his head to look at the source of the voice, something he was going to do anyways just to be friendly, the sight stops the middle-aged man in his tracks. At first, his mind has trouble making sense of the image and how it conflicts with his memory. "You know, you look surprisingly like someone I once shared an, unusual, adventure with." He says after a moment.
Wyck glances more acutely to the man he's speaking with, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the sun so that he can get a better sense of who he's talking with. "Oh -hey-..." he smiles widely upon recognition. "How you been bud?" The question, with its customary southern draw, certainly sounds like it could be 'the wyck', but ... he's a teenager now. "And... yeah, it's me," is all he offers as an explination.
Tallin thinks about which to respond to first; The question, or the admittance that currently, has his mind spinning as to how that can even be. He has an answer of course, the obvious answer, but he's not trying to think on that. That adventure had been a reminder of the wonders, and dangers, of magic. "Right, as the question is so much safer in that exchange; Physically, I'm older, but I'm alright. Everything else, well...." He sweeps a hand in gesture towards the streets. "There's a part of me that regrets that, despite everything, nothing really seems to have changed. It doesn't do well for the part of me that wants a better world for those living in it, have tried my best to make it so, and seen that the efforts have done so precious little." He then sighs, shaking his head. "Anyways, how have /you/ been?"
Wyck shrugs, "We can get into the details some other time but I'm here to tell ya that it's been one hell of a ride." Standing up from his chair he wanders over towards Tallin and reaches out to offer his hand to the man. Two comrades which, at one time, shared adversity and endured danger - there should be some kind of formal 'glad to see you're still alive' gesture. Now that he's closer, the shock of white hair and the boyish physique give way to the truth of the matter; his eyes. Once you ignore all of the packaging, there's something couched within his eyes that conveys -years- of experience and hardship. Even when he was his old self, he carried with him an 'old soul' and now it's just in a new package.
"Somethings have gotten better...most things around LATMA stay the same. All depends on where you want to make a difference."
The truth in the eyes isn't missed. Tallin Takes Wyck's hand, shaking it, then pulls him close and gives him a friendly hug. "It's good to see the world isn't short yet another light." He says quietly, then lets the youth go. "Sometime, you'll have to tell me about that wild ride. Don't think the streets is the place for it."
Hugs. Hugs are good. Not too many people are into hugs of late. Wyck was initially hesitant upon being embraced but settled into it -real- fast. Oh yeah, hugs work. When released, he wanders back to his chair and starts to collect the large mop and extendo-handle that he's cobbled together. "You want something to drink?" he asks and points to the old coffee bar. The business isn't open - that much is for certain, but it's not destroyed or derelict. It's in that limbo land where owners are changing hands and the new one isn't quite sure what to do with it. "Or take a load off - or are you on your way somewhere?"
Tallin looks at the coffee shop, then back at Wyck. "Those like me, we're always traveling somewhere, even when we don't know where we're traveling to. Sometimes, even when we're right where we are." He looks back at the business, commenting. "It's been awhile since I've had really good coffee."
(Inside Wycked Grounds)
The place is much as it was back in the day. The only real difference is that a number of the smaller tables have been moved out of the center of the room leaving only the larger things at the perimeter. Wyck wanders in and over to the counter to grab himself and his long-lost companion something to drink. "Whatcha take? Coffee... cappucino... some of that Moroccan coffee or maybe some Chai from..." and he turns back around before his mind starts to jump too far out into the sea of endless possibilities. "It's just me for now - the whole place is closed while a friend of mine takes over."
Tallin moves to the counter, leaning against it as he answers the question. "Coffee. I'll take the risk ad let you surprise me with the type." He then looks around at the changes, taking them in, committing it to memory. One never knows when such information may prove useful. One would swear that making a cup of coffee should not involve an alchemical process. That same 'one' has never seen Wyck behind the counter. A pinch of this, a dash of that, ground something and a swish and flick of something else and before ya know it, he turns with two cups of coffee in hand-turned, ceramic mugs. "Here ya go..." he slides one of them forward and brings his own up and pauses... "Cheers..."
Tallin takes up the offered mug, then lifts it and lightly, oh so lightly, touches it against Wyck's mug. "Cheers." He says in return, then brings his coffee up to take his first sip. The brew is dark and spicy - the closest equivalent in comparitive flavor would be 'something mexican'. It's sweet like a churro but has a hint of heat to it. "So... can I tell you how much of a pain it is to have to go through puberty again?" he kicks off their conversation by pointing out the elephant in the room. "A wry grin crawls across his face as he takes a sip of his coffee and leans back against the counter behind him. There's a look of shock that erupts on his face and he peels himself away like he's been bitten. "Cold..cold... not remembering that being there..." and then he whips out the t-shirt that he had stuffed into his pocket. "It sucks being short again..."
Tallin chuckles. "Some of us only experience it once. Wonder if I'll be wishing it wasn't the case when I go into decline." He takes another sip of his coffee before asking. "So what happened?"
Wyck takes another sip of his coffee and eases himself into the story. Taking a big inhale to start the process he glance over to the big PURPLE couch and scoots out from behind the counter. This is going to be one -those- conversations. "Well," he begins, "I could give you the short version, the short-short version, or the moderately long but it will be done before your coffee is cold, version."
Tallin chuckles before he pushes off the counter and walks over to the couch. Not intimidated by color, he sits down, sipping his coffee yet again before commenting. "I've got at least ten years. Feel free to take your time with the story."
Never ask one of his kind if they want to hear a story - it's how they operate, Wyck knew this but he wanted to be polite. Flicking off the stupidly neon sandals he was wearing to wash the wini he pulls his feet back under him and starts the tale. "I was kidnapped by a queen of the Fae..." he starts, "but let me walk you into it." The details of the story seem like something fresh out of Narnia - helping someone down on their luck, accepting an invitation without thinking anything would happen and then the 'fun' ensues. "I was kept as a prisoner for a while - for her amusement. Deep deep in the Otherlands. Nothing but ice and winter as far as I could see. I became her..." he glances around as if somehow ashamed for what happened, "Door mouse." He pauses only for a sip of his coffee and then adds, "Well, that's what she called it anyway. I opened doors for her so that she could go anywhere she wanted."
Tallin comments. "That sounds quite a bit like what I would expect having heard the tales of the Fianna." He looks into his mug. "I've got a lot of experience with the Fianna. Likely closer to them than my own tribe." He glances at Wyck. "I'm sorry you were stuck in such a situation. Being deprived of your freedom is a heavy burden to carry."
Wyck shrugs, "So I was her minion for a while but the contract that she struck with me was that when it was done - I would be returned to 'when it all started'." He groans deeply and takes a deep sip of his coffee, "I wasn't exactly 'specific' and...well..."
"So I ended up back here in Pasadena...looking like I did when my magic woke up...but now with this," he points to the shock of white hair upon his head. Spikey and fluffy, it looks like he's not completely escaped winter's grasp. "...So... yeah."
Tallin shudders. "Yeah, not an experience I would want. I suppose it's a good thing that I don't draw those kind of experiences." He then thinks about it. "Okay, I suppose being taken from my own time, and being in that, well, magic realm, were close enough." He raises his mug and takes another sip of coffee.
Wyck hehs, "So the good news is that I can go anywhere...at anytime. I mean -anywhere-," he smiles, "And...because I had to be a 'door mouse', I opened the door for her all the time." He adjusts where one foot is and it's not getting comfortable so he decides to fold his legs in front of him and lean back against the edge of the couch; squared up so that he can look at Tallin more directly. "Want to pick up coffee in Morocco? Sure. Want to have tea in London? Not a problem." A groan and another sip. "But when she let me go I decided that I was going to get out of LATMA and go do something that needs to be done. Not sure what that will be yet but I at least know where I'm going."
"Where are you going?" Tallin asks as he looks over at Wyck. "Perhaps the something to be done, lies in the journey."
Wyck offers, "Heading out to the Redlands for a while - beyond the Fringe Zone. There's some good people out there and they could use a hand." With a quick gesture through the windows to the winibago outside he explains how he gave the coffee house to an 'old friend' and he's moving himself out to a low-tech area just this side of the Wall to the Wastelands. "They're farming their own food, handling their own problems - they are living...well...on their own and that is something that is starting to appeal to me."
Tallin thinks back to his time out there; So many umpleasant memories. "Well, I'm glad the people out there are doing well for themselves these days." He looks into his mug, just gazing at the fluid still inside.
Wyck nods, "Yeah - there's a new crop of people out there which seem to have more than half a clue and I couldn't swear to it but I think some of your folk might be nearby too - you know, helping out without making too much of a fuss about it." Stretching one leg out he takes a long sip of his coffee to tip up the bottom and finish it off. "Not sure if they have coffee out there or not but I think I have enough connections to keep a small supply train going back and forth..."
Tallin comments quietly. "They have coffee out there. Further out, somewhere, unless it was destroyed, someone even made a brewery." He looks up from his mug. "It's been a long time since I was out there for a period longer, than to pass it by. My kind spent way too much time in stupidity, ending the lives of people, theirs and others, who didn't deserve to be taken away from this life." There's a sadness in his expression. "Buried two daughters, a son, a wife, a lover, and too friends, and unfortunate people." He stands up, not comfortable sitting anymore. "I had to leave that all behind, or become one of the monsters I had always hated."
Wyck asks, noting the man's sudden rise off the couch, "So...where does the road take you, then?" His voice is a mixture of curiosity and concern - as was his usual tone back in the day. "Anything I can do for you while you're still around these parts?"
Tallin me turns, looking at Wyck. "The road takes me where it always has; The path Mother whispers for me to take. To keep to my ideals, and strive to make this a better world, or perish in the attempt. As for something you can do for me?" He sighs. "The exceptions to this are few; Everyone I come to cherish, dies, or is lost to me. If you can manage it, don't become just another lost life I must keep alive in memory."
Wyck hrms and thinks about it for a second and then scrambles up from his perch on the couch to find a his old satchel parked on the counter. Digging in it for only a second, he walks over towards Tallin and smiles. "I'll agree on one condition..." he starts and holds out his hand to offer something palm-sized to him. "I'll stay alive if you will take this." Assuming that Tallin at least accepts the object to examine it, he will discover that it's a simple, old-fashioned skeleton key. The round part, where you'd hold it when unlocking a door, has been fashioned into a simple pentacle. "Just in case you need a door mouse..."
Tallin does take the object and examines it a moment, then looks at Wyck. "You feel this is equal to the request I made? Handing me a key that, to me, seems like a symbol of the experience you've endured? How could I ask such a favor from you, knowing that you've been through such an ordeal?"
The snow-haired young man quirks a glance at the taller guy before him. "Because friends are hard to find out there," he answers with a faint hint of an emotional upwelling, "...and all we have at the end of the day are those people who will watch are backs when we can't take another step." In such an ominous and serious moment, Wyck has to pause his words to grab the wasteband of his shorts so they don't fall off of his frame. Everything is bigger than him - again. Doing his best not to let a small grin cross his face he finishes, "When you have your back to the wall and there's no way out, just say my name and I'll know."
Tallin closes his hand around the key. "There's been a part of me in the last several years, that has come to figure such a day, would be when my age catches up to me. I suppose though, in a world where one can never be sure what will happen with the next second, what will come to be." He nods, then puts the key into his pocket. "I will honor your request. You have my word."
Wyck nods, "Good to know..." he is a bit loss for words on how to respond to such a serious tone. Getting a Garou to give his word is no small affair. Getting Tallin to give his word is one of those unmovable, unshakable events in time that one can rely upon to be a constant fact in reality. "And...you know," he starts to sound like a bit of a teenager for a second, "...if you get this weird feeling like someone's looking over your shoulder - it might just be me... making sure you're still walkin."
Tallin me says quietly. "I don't fear those moments, someone watching me. It's those moments where I can feel Winter's icy caress, and not knowing the why." He looks at his mug, raising it up some. "I've a feeling though, if something happened and took me out.... you wouldn't need to look to find the answer. I'm sure it'll make its way around." He downs the rest of his coffee.