Shelby is utterly polite
Jul. 27th, 2010 10:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shelbyrouIt is currently around noon Pacific Time on Tue Jul 27 2010.
Currently the moon is in the waning Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (92% full).
Edgewood House: Downstairs
Tyler laughs a little, "Do I look all cyber-punked out? I carry a gun, and I know my around the city. Whoa, beware my mad tech skills." She pauses, "Are all Furies lesbians? All Gaians weed-smoking unicorn humpers? It's a stereotype. The core ideal we're after, is that in order to protect Gaia wholly, we need to keep some sense of watch and order on the city and humanity too."
Kerr grins uncertainly at Tyler's laugh, daring to glance toward the Cliath. "I guess I see your point. Maybe I should try talking to Mouse-rhya, after everything is figured out, and see what she can tell me, too."
Tyler nods, "It's a good idea actually. Instead of taking just the viewpoint of one, overly sarcastic and winsome Ahroun." She grins slightly, rolling her shoulders back and leaning against the counter. "So, what's for lunch?"
"Yes'm. I really should talk to ever-- Oh." The cub turns and looks at retreats to the fridge. "I could make sandwiches," she offers. "Unless you want something else."
The back door opens and closes again to admit one Silver Fang cub, who spends the next few seconds cleaning her shoes on the back mat before heading into the kitchen. Her destination also seems to be the fridge; she blinks first at one Ahroun, then the other before offering Tyler a polite smile. "Hello again. No waffles today?" She fans her hand under her nose in memory. "'Lo, Kerr. How are you?"
Tyler looks to the fridge. "Sandwiches work. Pull out the stuff, I'll help you make them." The newcomer comes in and Tyler looks over, "No, thank god. Just sandwiches. Ham, turkey, or whatever is in there."
Kerr pulls out bread and a selection of deli meats with a 'Yes ma'am', the items being laid upon the counter. She offers a small nod and a grin to Shelby before reaching back into the fridge to find condiments. "Doing okay, Shelby. You?"
Shelby says, "Good," to the other cub and glances at Tyler before pausing on her trek to the fridge to fetch down some glasses and plates. "Pretty good. Seems like the only thing I do all day is run around in the woods, but." She shrugs and closes the upper cabinet again. "I thought I'd take a couple of hours off this afternoon and watch some Tyra."
Tyler sets up at the table with some plates, a knife and napkins. "Tyra Banks? Really?" There's a tone of utter disbelief in those queries. "I think I'd rather spend the afternoon running."
Mayo, mustard, cheese, and pickles follow as Kerr pulls her head out of the fridge again. "Hope it's okay, I didn't see any lettuce or tomatoes inside," she says to the other two, seeming to be ignoring (or perhaps avoiding) discussion of television versus anything more active). The Ahroun cub gathers up the meats and bread as well, to carry the whole lot over to the table, meanwhile keeping her head bowed and eyes upon the floor.
Tyler appears to be past her teen years but not quite settled into the corral of adulthood that the twenties bring. She's fit; though hers is a sturdy physique that suggests strength and agility rather than fine grace and delicacy. Her eyes are a dark hazel and rarely hide her devil may care attitude, which combined with her other traits and posture, give her an aloofness that is almost mountain lion like in nature. Her hair is mostly blonde, though it is dyed with thick streaks of dark brown and occasional burgundy lines as it hangs wild and unevenly cut to her shoulders. Her skin is smooth and fair, her lips a light peach color. Clothing for her appears to belong to a category one might call punktional. There are definite hints of punk to her style, but never at the cost of losing functionality. Dark jeans and shirts, the latter always form fitting despite her healthy size, make up the brunt of her wardrobe, as well as a series of various jackets, from denim to leather.
"Of course, Tyra Banks really," Shelby answers, like she's surprised the Walker even has to ask. "I haven't caught an episode since last week, so I have no idea what she's doing today. I hope she does more advice from the audience. Oh, that's because I took the tomatoes out of there," she adds to Kerr. "They weren't quite ripe so I put them on the windowsill." She looks at it, but the sill is tomato-free. "--Where'd they go?"
Tyler snorts, "All 'tude and no real wisdom in that woman. But that's so typical of Hollywood." She nods to Kerr and sets up a sort of factory like process with her section of table. "I'll do the mayo and mustard slathering. Who wants what?"
Kerr glances at the window and then toward Shelby as she passes mustard, mayo, and bread toward Tyler. "I didn't see any up there when I got here. Hopefully they got used." She sets up a spot for cheese and pickles and then one for meats before taking a step back to let the Fang cub choose first.
"Better that than thrown out," Shelby agrees, blinking first at Tyler, then over at Kerr. "I can make my own sandwich, thank you, Tyler-rhya. Kerr, is there any more lemonade left?" She takes half a step toward the table, laying claim to her place as second.
Tyler gives a little grin to the two cubs. "So you two known each other for a while then, or just occasionally crossing paths?"
Kerr steps away from the table and returns to the fridge. "We met a little while after I first changed," she explains as she digs into the fridge. "So I guess, maybe, a little of both?" The younger cub returns with the mostly full pitcher, leaving it upon the table before retreating to find glasses.
"Something like that," Shelby agrees. "A few months, anyway. --If you're looking for glasses," she adds to the other cub, "I got them down already." She waves at the counter where the glassware awaits. "I'm kind of surprised they use glass here, instead of plastic - but I suppose glass heals quickly?"
Kerr gathers the glasses from the counter with a small grin at herself, then returns once more to the table. Again, the Ahroun cub steps back after placing the items down and within reach of the Walker and Fang, eyes again settling on the ground.
"From us anyway," comes the softly spoken somewhat witty toned reply. "Hey Kerr, relax a bit. No one's biting your head off right now, right?" She lathers some mayo on her bread and then looks to Kerr, "Mayo or mustard? Silver Spoons here is dolling up her own sandwich, so."
Though she might notice Kerr's behavior, it's Tyler's nickname that catches her attention, and brings the Ragabash's chin fractionally higher. "It's Shelby, if you please."
"Both please," Kerr replies quietly, an undertone to Shelby's statement. And she does try to relax some, though failure at it is evident.
Tyler casts a charming smile at the Silver Fang. "When you rite, it can be Shelby. For now, it's anything I please, hmm?" Still she doesn't emphasize the point by reiterating the nickname. She goes about slathering both dressings on the bread before handing it over to Kerr. "So what cub name you go by Kerr?"
"Little... Wing," Kerr replies as she takes the bread. Her eyes flick toward Shelby, though it could be she was looking toward the fixings nearest the Ragabash. "It's what Tim-rhya named me."
Shelby's smile is less-charming, and really can barely be called a smile at all: more of a bare lifting of the corners of her mouth. Nevertheless her tone is utterly polite and devoid of anything even remotely resembling sass. "Of course, Tyler-rhya. Just as you say, Tyler-rhya. You're very wise, Tyler-rhya. Thank you for correcting me on this matter, Tyler-rhya. --Little Wing's nice," she adds to Kerr.
Tyler is up in a flash, chair scooting out from underneath her legs and skittering across the linoleum floor. The distance between herself and the Silver Fang is closed in a mere moment and there's a hard glare in her gaze as she stares at the cub. "Cut it. I'm very capable of wiping the floor with you cub. You can sugar coat a piece of shit and it's still going to be a piece of shit when you have to swallow it. Are we clear?"
Kerr tenses as Tyler moves, a readiness settling over her form. But she doesn't move except for a slight lifting of her head. The Ahroun cub's eyes settle on the Ragabash and Cliath, watching the exchange with a wariness.
Shelby startles but doesn't yelp, though her chin jerks up and she looks quickly away toward the living room and not at the Walker. "Yes, Tyler-rhya, I understand perfectly," she answers, still using that same utterly pleasant voice.
Tyler holds the stare a little longer and then replies with a simple, stern, "Good." She goes back to her seat, scoots it back to the table and after a carefully drawn breath, continues to make the sandwiches. Kerr is given a 'nothing at all just happened' look as she points out, "Just ham for mine. Here, your bread's done." She pushes the mayo-mustardized slices over and seems to fall into lunch mode just as quickly as she snapped into glare at cub mode a moment ago. "I met Tim, he's a good guy." It's then that her phone buzzes, and she looks down with a mutter, "Be back in a bit, gotta take this."
Kerr drops her gaze at Tyler's look, eyes upon the table as she passes the ham toward the Cliath. She says nothing, quietly creating her own sandwich though a guardedness has settled around her.
"Enjoy your phone call, Tyler-rhya," says Shelby pleasantly, though she waits until the Walker is out of the room before she looks back at the table and Kerr. "Isn't she lovely," she says then, and moves in to take the absent Garou's place in the middle of the sandwich fixings.
Kerr watches Tyler take off from the corner of her eye, remaning silent still until after Shelby's spoken first. "Abrassive, but.. I don't know. She told me a good deal about the Glass Walkers." Apprehensively, she takes a seat at the table, layering cheese and pickles along with meats before putting the top onto her meal.
Shelby continues, "I have nothing but respect for her," as she creates her own sandwich, concentrating on the turkey and ham. "I haven't met many of that tribe - probably," she adds with a wry touch, "because I spend all my days in the woods. Chandini-rhya packs with one, though. His name is Jack Salem."
"I've met Salem-rhya," Kerr returns. "Sort of. And I've met a few others." She picks at her sandwich, staring at the bread and meat rather than looking around. "The ones that I've met seem alright, too. Hard in a way that's different from the woods Tribes."
"I like him," Shelby says, with a lessening of even the faint tension that marked her words to Tyler. "He's always been very polite to me." She looks after Tyler again and drops her voice. "What happened after I left on Sunday?"
Kerr takes a long moment before answering, head turning enough to afford her a look toward where Tyler made her exit. "Chandini-rhya's taken me to stay at the Fury house, and Kaz-rhya's challenged for me I think. And she's said I can choose a different Tribe than her's if I want." The Ahroun's tone is rather quiet, barely above a whisper, and the words come haltingly as though she thinks reprocussions will follow if the wrong ears hear.
"You probably don't want to be a Bone Gnawer," Shelby agrees encouragingly. "You could do one of the others you were thinking of - the Get, maybe, or the Gaians. August's tough, but he's not creepy." She still hasn't picked up her sandwich, and her hands start to clean up the various fixings even as she asks, "You're done with all of this, right?"
Kerr nods and gathers up her sandwich. "I'm going to think long and hard before I make a choice," she tells the older cub. "I don't want... y'know." She carries the sandwich toward the doorway and turns for the stairs. "If you want to leave the dishes, I'll clean them after I've worked out," the Ahroun says, looking toward Shelby. Well, Shelby's feet, really. "I'll... see you later."
"All right," Shelby says after a moment, though she doesn't stop tidying. "Enjoy your lunch."
Currently the moon is in the waning Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (92% full).
Edgewood House: Downstairs
Tyler laughs a little, "Do I look all cyber-punked out? I carry a gun, and I know my around the city. Whoa, beware my mad tech skills." She pauses, "Are all Furies lesbians? All Gaians weed-smoking unicorn humpers? It's a stereotype. The core ideal we're after, is that in order to protect Gaia wholly, we need to keep some sense of watch and order on the city and humanity too."
Kerr grins uncertainly at Tyler's laugh, daring to glance toward the Cliath. "I guess I see your point. Maybe I should try talking to Mouse-rhya, after everything is figured out, and see what she can tell me, too."
Tyler nods, "It's a good idea actually. Instead of taking just the viewpoint of one, overly sarcastic and winsome Ahroun." She grins slightly, rolling her shoulders back and leaning against the counter. "So, what's for lunch?"
"Yes'm. I really should talk to ever-- Oh." The cub turns and looks at retreats to the fridge. "I could make sandwiches," she offers. "Unless you want something else."
The back door opens and closes again to admit one Silver Fang cub, who spends the next few seconds cleaning her shoes on the back mat before heading into the kitchen. Her destination also seems to be the fridge; she blinks first at one Ahroun, then the other before offering Tyler a polite smile. "Hello again. No waffles today?" She fans her hand under her nose in memory. "'Lo, Kerr. How are you?"
Tyler looks to the fridge. "Sandwiches work. Pull out the stuff, I'll help you make them." The newcomer comes in and Tyler looks over, "No, thank god. Just sandwiches. Ham, turkey, or whatever is in there."
Kerr pulls out bread and a selection of deli meats with a 'Yes ma'am', the items being laid upon the counter. She offers a small nod and a grin to Shelby before reaching back into the fridge to find condiments. "Doing okay, Shelby. You?"
Shelby says, "Good," to the other cub and glances at Tyler before pausing on her trek to the fridge to fetch down some glasses and plates. "Pretty good. Seems like the only thing I do all day is run around in the woods, but." She shrugs and closes the upper cabinet again. "I thought I'd take a couple of hours off this afternoon and watch some Tyra."
Tyler sets up at the table with some plates, a knife and napkins. "Tyra Banks? Really?" There's a tone of utter disbelief in those queries. "I think I'd rather spend the afternoon running."
Mayo, mustard, cheese, and pickles follow as Kerr pulls her head out of the fridge again. "Hope it's okay, I didn't see any lettuce or tomatoes inside," she says to the other two, seeming to be ignoring (or perhaps avoiding) discussion of television versus anything more active). The Ahroun cub gathers up the meats and bread as well, to carry the whole lot over to the table, meanwhile keeping her head bowed and eyes upon the floor.
Tyler appears to be past her teen years but not quite settled into the corral of adulthood that the twenties bring. She's fit; though hers is a sturdy physique that suggests strength and agility rather than fine grace and delicacy. Her eyes are a dark hazel and rarely hide her devil may care attitude, which combined with her other traits and posture, give her an aloofness that is almost mountain lion like in nature. Her hair is mostly blonde, though it is dyed with thick streaks of dark brown and occasional burgundy lines as it hangs wild and unevenly cut to her shoulders. Her skin is smooth and fair, her lips a light peach color. Clothing for her appears to belong to a category one might call punktional. There are definite hints of punk to her style, but never at the cost of losing functionality. Dark jeans and shirts, the latter always form fitting despite her healthy size, make up the brunt of her wardrobe, as well as a series of various jackets, from denim to leather.
"Of course, Tyra Banks really," Shelby answers, like she's surprised the Walker even has to ask. "I haven't caught an episode since last week, so I have no idea what she's doing today. I hope she does more advice from the audience. Oh, that's because I took the tomatoes out of there," she adds to Kerr. "They weren't quite ripe so I put them on the windowsill." She looks at it, but the sill is tomato-free. "--Where'd they go?"
Tyler snorts, "All 'tude and no real wisdom in that woman. But that's so typical of Hollywood." She nods to Kerr and sets up a sort of factory like process with her section of table. "I'll do the mayo and mustard slathering. Who wants what?"
Kerr glances at the window and then toward Shelby as she passes mustard, mayo, and bread toward Tyler. "I didn't see any up there when I got here. Hopefully they got used." She sets up a spot for cheese and pickles and then one for meats before taking a step back to let the Fang cub choose first.
"Better that than thrown out," Shelby agrees, blinking first at Tyler, then over at Kerr. "I can make my own sandwich, thank you, Tyler-rhya. Kerr, is there any more lemonade left?" She takes half a step toward the table, laying claim to her place as second.
Tyler gives a little grin to the two cubs. "So you two known each other for a while then, or just occasionally crossing paths?"
Kerr steps away from the table and returns to the fridge. "We met a little while after I first changed," she explains as she digs into the fridge. "So I guess, maybe, a little of both?" The younger cub returns with the mostly full pitcher, leaving it upon the table before retreating to find glasses.
"Something like that," Shelby agrees. "A few months, anyway. --If you're looking for glasses," she adds to the other cub, "I got them down already." She waves at the counter where the glassware awaits. "I'm kind of surprised they use glass here, instead of plastic - but I suppose glass heals quickly?"
Kerr gathers the glasses from the counter with a small grin at herself, then returns once more to the table. Again, the Ahroun cub steps back after placing the items down and within reach of the Walker and Fang, eyes again settling on the ground.
"From us anyway," comes the softly spoken somewhat witty toned reply. "Hey Kerr, relax a bit. No one's biting your head off right now, right?" She lathers some mayo on her bread and then looks to Kerr, "Mayo or mustard? Silver Spoons here is dolling up her own sandwich, so."
Though she might notice Kerr's behavior, it's Tyler's nickname that catches her attention, and brings the Ragabash's chin fractionally higher. "It's Shelby, if you please."
"Both please," Kerr replies quietly, an undertone to Shelby's statement. And she does try to relax some, though failure at it is evident.
Tyler casts a charming smile at the Silver Fang. "When you rite, it can be Shelby. For now, it's anything I please, hmm?" Still she doesn't emphasize the point by reiterating the nickname. She goes about slathering both dressings on the bread before handing it over to Kerr. "So what cub name you go by Kerr?"
"Little... Wing," Kerr replies as she takes the bread. Her eyes flick toward Shelby, though it could be she was looking toward the fixings nearest the Ragabash. "It's what Tim-rhya named me."
Shelby's smile is less-charming, and really can barely be called a smile at all: more of a bare lifting of the corners of her mouth. Nevertheless her tone is utterly polite and devoid of anything even remotely resembling sass. "Of course, Tyler-rhya. Just as you say, Tyler-rhya. You're very wise, Tyler-rhya. Thank you for correcting me on this matter, Tyler-rhya. --Little Wing's nice," she adds to Kerr.
Tyler is up in a flash, chair scooting out from underneath her legs and skittering across the linoleum floor. The distance between herself and the Silver Fang is closed in a mere moment and there's a hard glare in her gaze as she stares at the cub. "Cut it. I'm very capable of wiping the floor with you cub. You can sugar coat a piece of shit and it's still going to be a piece of shit when you have to swallow it. Are we clear?"
Kerr tenses as Tyler moves, a readiness settling over her form. But she doesn't move except for a slight lifting of her head. The Ahroun cub's eyes settle on the Ragabash and Cliath, watching the exchange with a wariness.
Shelby startles but doesn't yelp, though her chin jerks up and she looks quickly away toward the living room and not at the Walker. "Yes, Tyler-rhya, I understand perfectly," she answers, still using that same utterly pleasant voice.
Tyler holds the stare a little longer and then replies with a simple, stern, "Good." She goes back to her seat, scoots it back to the table and after a carefully drawn breath, continues to make the sandwiches. Kerr is given a 'nothing at all just happened' look as she points out, "Just ham for mine. Here, your bread's done." She pushes the mayo-mustardized slices over and seems to fall into lunch mode just as quickly as she snapped into glare at cub mode a moment ago. "I met Tim, he's a good guy." It's then that her phone buzzes, and she looks down with a mutter, "Be back in a bit, gotta take this."
Kerr drops her gaze at Tyler's look, eyes upon the table as she passes the ham toward the Cliath. She says nothing, quietly creating her own sandwich though a guardedness has settled around her.
"Enjoy your phone call, Tyler-rhya," says Shelby pleasantly, though she waits until the Walker is out of the room before she looks back at the table and Kerr. "Isn't she lovely," she says then, and moves in to take the absent Garou's place in the middle of the sandwich fixings.
Kerr watches Tyler take off from the corner of her eye, remaning silent still until after Shelby's spoken first. "Abrassive, but.. I don't know. She told me a good deal about the Glass Walkers." Apprehensively, she takes a seat at the table, layering cheese and pickles along with meats before putting the top onto her meal.
Shelby continues, "I have nothing but respect for her," as she creates her own sandwich, concentrating on the turkey and ham. "I haven't met many of that tribe - probably," she adds with a wry touch, "because I spend all my days in the woods. Chandini-rhya packs with one, though. His name is Jack Salem."
"I've met Salem-rhya," Kerr returns. "Sort of. And I've met a few others." She picks at her sandwich, staring at the bread and meat rather than looking around. "The ones that I've met seem alright, too. Hard in a way that's different from the woods Tribes."
"I like him," Shelby says, with a lessening of even the faint tension that marked her words to Tyler. "He's always been very polite to me." She looks after Tyler again and drops her voice. "What happened after I left on Sunday?"
Kerr takes a long moment before answering, head turning enough to afford her a look toward where Tyler made her exit. "Chandini-rhya's taken me to stay at the Fury house, and Kaz-rhya's challenged for me I think. And she's said I can choose a different Tribe than her's if I want." The Ahroun's tone is rather quiet, barely above a whisper, and the words come haltingly as though she thinks reprocussions will follow if the wrong ears hear.
"You probably don't want to be a Bone Gnawer," Shelby agrees encouragingly. "You could do one of the others you were thinking of - the Get, maybe, or the Gaians. August's tough, but he's not creepy." She still hasn't picked up her sandwich, and her hands start to clean up the various fixings even as she asks, "You're done with all of this, right?"
Kerr nods and gathers up her sandwich. "I'm going to think long and hard before I make a choice," she tells the older cub. "I don't want... y'know." She carries the sandwich toward the doorway and turns for the stairs. "If you want to leave the dishes, I'll clean them after I've worked out," the Ahroun says, looking toward Shelby. Well, Shelby's feet, really. "I'll... see you later."
"All right," Shelby says after a moment, though she doesn't stop tidying. "Enjoy your lunch."