Air Jim
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Date: 04/30/2018 Time: 1:00pm EST |
Carson Youth Center, Detroit, MI
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Cast: | |
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Jim stands on a table here in the back hall. A box of donuts and a box of coffee sit nearby. The large bird is perched over a cake donut, pecking at it. Jordan pushes through the door into the room with a wary glance shot over one shoulder. She is wearing a pale green hoodie and sweats and tennis shoes. She could have somehow wandered off from the gymnasium, but she's too purposeful. And she just looks like she's on edge, every motion brisk but controlled, fingers flexing in a restless idle motion as she strolls in and looks around, coming to a sudden halt at the sight of the bird. Dark eyes narrow. Jim gets a little tingle down his spine. The Curse doesn't apply to him, of course, but you still *feel* the rage. He's half ready to greet Miss Sandra when he looks up, a bit of donut in his beak. Hlooking back at the newcomer, he lifts his head to gobble down the food, and flaps. "Howdy," he says, in a human-like voice, with a distinct Texan accent. Jordan's eyes twitch and her nostrils flare for a moment as she hears the human voice coming from the bird, gaze darting rapidly to all corners of the room in a quick assessment of her surroundings. Breathe in. Breathe out. "Hello?" she replies in a friendly tone, and raises a hand in a small wave. It's not very friendly, and there's that edge simmering under the surface, but she's obviously trying to be pleasant. Jim trills. "You're probably wondering why I just talked to you. I can feel the Rage. Care for a donut? Coffee? Names Jim Gomez." Jordan pauses for a second, then nods, keeping the smile on, "Well, that question crossed my mind." She reaches up and toys with a coil of hair, eyeing the coffee and donuts. "Thanks. I guess I can have a donut. I probably should avoid the coffee. The name's Jordan. It's nice to meet you." She doesn't speak quickly, carefully picking each softly-spoken word. Jim flaps and hops to the other side to gesture toward the box with his beak. "Pleasure to meet you miss Jordan." He then pauses, and looks up at the ceiling for a moment before catching himself. "Is this one of those full moon things? I always thought that was a joke but it's not?" Jordan takes a couple of slow steps closer, deep breaths, and looks into the box to check out her choice of donuts. She doesn't take one yet, pausing to give Jim a look, frowning slightly in apparent confusion. "What is?" Jim flaps again. "You seem very tense ma'am. Long tailed cat in a rocking chair factory tense." "Too much coffee," Jordan explains deadpan, then smiles, the tension on her lips flicking off for just a moment. Then she leans over the table to grab a donut, keeping to the far side from where Jim is perched. "Analogy's not all that. It's not my tail I worry about," she says with a wince, then takes a bite of donut. "What are you?" Jim spreads his wings wide, the long primary feathers pointed. It's a little awkward indoors. "I am a mighty Bastet. One of Gaia's most fearsome warriors. Hear me purr." He then does a PURRFECT purr sound. "I'm Detroit's lone Corax, ma'am." Jordan chews, and her brow creases harder at Jim's act. She takes a step back when he spreads his wings and gives the bird a longer narrow-eyed look. "Right. You could've been, hell if I know, a spirit or something? I can't tell," the young woman shrugs and takes another bite of donut. Then another. Big, quick bites, making the donut vanish into her mouth in a hurry. Jim pulls his wings back in and adjusts his feathres with his beak. "I reckon you're right ma'am. But I've run into enough newcomers around here who haven't even heard of us." Jordan finishes off her donut and wipes her fingers together, watching Jim out of the corner of her eye. "Our totem got wings too," she comments, easing her faintly twitchy hands into her pockets as she paces around. There's a restlessness to her stride that she tries to lighten up by turning it into a bouncy thing. "Any news from - wherever?" Jim flaps. "Your totem? Are you with the uh, Shadow Lords and the stormcrows? Begging your pardon I don't know all the Garou tribes." Pecking his donut again. "Lots. I have a few reports posted here. Miss Sandra, who for a while was the elder wolf around here, made a huge ass chart with everything we know. It's bad, ma'am." Jordan stops and looks at Jim, then glances at her fingers and starts counting. "Pegasus. Hell, there's a whole mess of totems with wings, now that I think about," she says, stopping herself when she's curled all the fingers in one hand. It naturally curls into a fist after Jim changes subjects. "We talked. I didn't get everything, but I hear you." Jim looks up at her, and flaps. "Pegasus. Understood." Pecking the donut again, as his eyes catch the fist. "After seeing them murder one of y'all in cold blood, I'm with that fist. I'm working on ways to get us into the umbra safely in town, inside the white zone tent Shaw has the Weaver building." "Mmmhmmm," Jordan acknowledges Jim's words with a nod. "Was almost jumped when I got in town. They knew I was coming. I hear that's a thing..." the woman trails off suddenly, clenched fists hammering into her thighs. "It was nice chatting, but that shit's still a bit fresh, and it's that time of the month, you know? I think I need some alone time to take the edge off." Jim flaps. "Were you contacted by a man named Bradley, ma'am?" He then lets out a caw. "Alright, Miss Jordan. Good luck, and welcome to Detroit." Jordan's already turning to leave, hands pushed into the front pockets of her hoodie. She pauses, pivoting on a foot, "Bradley? No. There was a Bruce, but he's dead," she notes, then shrugs, "They all dead. This other pack rescued me, or else - shit." Her expression darkens and she stands motionless and tense for a moment, frozen halfway through a step. But she makes herself smile, however tight that is at the corners of her mouth, and wave at Jim. "Thanks. | |
