Harbor Park Fountain
Contents:
Julie
Pete Barlow
Flowers

Julie picks absently at the frayed bullet hole in the thigh of her jeans. "I 
mean, I a'ways seem t' jus' barely get by. Jus' by the skin o' m' teeth."

Barlow tips back his head and chuckles. "That's what we're all about. The skin 
of our teeth." He sucks again at the cigarette. "So how did your trip go?"

Julie says "Trip?" She cocks her head, studying him. "You mean t' prove 
m'self, s'posedly?"

Pete Barlow nods.

Julie shrugs again, but not as high as last time. "It went well. I mean, go' 
done what we were s'posed t' do. It jus' wasn' what I was expectin'. Jus' 
seemed too easy, y'know?"

"Do you feel ready for bein' a full-fledged adult now?" asks Barlow with a deep 
attention on the cub, watching her closely.

Julie drops her gaze, hands folding tight in her lap. "Actually, no. I mean, I 
don' feel like I proved anythin', not even t' m'self. Jus' did what I've done 
alla time while livin' onna streets," she replies quietly.

Pete Barlow nods slowly, not saying anthing for a long time. "Maybe it'll come 
later."

Dulcinea slowly walks along the river's edge, on the south side of the park, a 
smudge of dark in the black.

Julie nods faintly, then swallows before speaking, her voice hushed, tinged 
with uncertainty, "Unk, wha'chu think 'bout me? I mean, how do you see me?"

"You?" Barlow turns back to study his young tribemate. "I think you've come a 
fuckin' long ways. Last night proved some of that."

Julie glances up, surprised, and a shy smile pairs with a rather bright blush. 
"Think so? Gee, thanks!" Her gaze drops again, thin hand lifting to scratch at 
her scalp as she studies the ground. "Tha' really means alot, Unk," she quietly 
adds after a moment.

Pete Barlow shakes his head, still looking a bit serious. "I didn't say you 
were done, Sister. You... What I think is missin' is you grabbin' hold of what 
we're about, who we help, what we do. You need a pack. You need a purpose."

Julie glances up at him, also the gravity of the situation telling on her own 
face. "I know I ain' done. I don' think I'll ever be 'done'. But I dunno 'bout 
a pack. At leas' not righ' now. I jus' dunno." Indecision shimmers in the dull 
blue eyes that study him.

"It ain't a choice, Julie," says Barlow as he stubs out his cigarette. "I'm 
tellin' you you need a pack."

Julie sighs and looks down. "Why? There's others tha' don' have packs, an' 
they're happy," the Galliard half-heartedly argues.

"Who?" asks Barlow.

Julie bites her lip, then quickly quips, "Well, Tony, an' Ang'lo, um...an' 
um.." She doesn't raise her eyes, or her head, she just lets her voice trail 
off.

A siren wails past the park, heading north toward the wealthier parts of town. 
"And you're a Tony? Or Angelo?" Pete shakes his head. "Jules, you're a strong 
person. Smart. You've got a heart as big as this city. What you don't need to 
do is lock it all away feeding on yourself. You need a pack to work with. Mama 
needs you that way. That's Mama Rat's way."

Julie swallows before she speaks, "Where do you suggest? Only one asked, an' it 
ain' even a pack, jus' an idear." She's fighting the quaver in her voice, thin 
hands set to heavily rubbing denim clad thighs.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 45 degrees 
Fahrenheit (7 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the south 
at 7 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.61 and steady, and the relative 
humidity is 93 percent. The dewpoint is 43 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees 
Celsius.)

Pete Barlow shakes his head slightly. "Look around. See what packs are out 
there. What they're doing. See where you fit in."

Dulcinea moves up the river toward the lights and concrete, breeze tugging at 
her clothing.

Julie chews her lip, before finally muttering, "Well, I -do- feel like I fit in 
here, but..." A heavy sigh, then a shrug. "Yer right, I shou'd do that," she 
said firmly. "Look 'round."

"Here? You mean Edge?" asks Pete, eyes widening slightly.

Julie shrugs again, a shoe's toe scuffing at the ground. "Uh huh," she nods 
faintly, still not looking up.

Pete Barlow shakes his head. "Ain't thought about that. You did pretty good 
last night. Let me talk to the others about it."

Julie nods faintly. "Okay. But jus' so you know, I'm hopin' t' be movin' outta 
the theater soon, makin' a small place o' m' own. You cou'd prolly use the 
extra room."

Pete Barlow chuckles. "You ain't no trouble, Jules."

Cari pages to Dulcinea, Pete Barlow, and Julie: Mind some company?
Long distance to Cari: Dulcinea would love some, but is technically still in 
the meadow.
Julie pages to Dulcinea, Cari, and Pete Barlow: I don't. :)
From afar, to Dulcinea, Cari, and Julie, Pete Barlow is on his way out... 
Sorry. :(

Julie glances up at him finally. "I know, bu', I feel like I need a place t' 
call m' own. It ain' all that far."

Rina paces northward along the river's edge, watching the quiet park.

Julie watches the man leave, then glances around.

You paged Rina with 'Oh hey. You and me probably run into each other.'.
From afar, to the room, Rina neverminds. I thought I could get Angelo and Pete 
together maybe. :p
Rina has left.
Cari pages to Dulcinea and Julie: No worries, sorry.

Julie narrows her eyes, peering intently along the river's course past the park.

Dulcinea continues along the riverside, something small cradled in her hands.

Julie finally spies the dark form moving along the river's edge. Quietly as she 
can, Julie gets up, and slowly makes her way in the figure's direction, 
watching intently.

Dulcinea continues on her path, nearing the streetlamp's pool of light.

Julie continues her course, making herself appear to be nonchalantly walking in 
the same direction, though she paces herself to close the distance between 
herself and this other figure.

Dulcinea doesn't seem to notice the girl's approach, concentrating instead on 
the flowing of the river. She walks silently along the mud and rock of the 
bank, her path taking her just outside that pool of light.

Julie speaks just so the other can hear. "H'lo. Perty late t' be walkin' the 
river, ain' it?" Her tone is conversational and pretty much friendly-sounding.

Dulcinea looks up, and for a moment it's as if she heard the other girl's 
words. But no, she has just turned her face up to the moon. It reflects off the 
white of her make-up with a pale nimbus.

Julie slows to a stop inside the circle of light from the streetlamp, and 
rather loudly clears her throat. But the Gnawer doesn't draw any closer, chills 
running up her spine causing her to be cautious.

Dulcinea continues her stroll, still ignoring the Gnawer. Through her hands can 
be seen the white rose she's holding.

Julie shrugs to herself, physically and mentally, then glances around. She 
stands a moment more, indecision riding the gaunt features, before a hesitant 
step to follow again is taken.

You paged Julie with 'One can see the flower through her hands. Not just 
around.'.

Dulcinea(#3070Pcqr)
Long, razor-straight blue-black hair drapes down around an alabaster 
Kabuki-style face, framing large dark eyes ringed with kohl, one of them in the 
Eye of Horus design. Blood red lipstick makes her lips look almost too big for 
her narrow, delicate face.
Under the layers of black gauze is probably a willowy body wrapped in a 
Georgian black dress, with a high waist, and black button-up granny boots.

Julie pages: Ooohhhh, okay.
Long distance to Julie: Dulcinea grins. Realisation hits.

Dulcinea ducks her head now, curling in on herself as if the wind had suddenly 
grown stronger.

Julie, biting her lip, follows, very cautious now, something about this figure 
not feeling 'right'. The Gnawer keeps her distance, and watches intently.

Dulcinea suddenly wrings her hands, crushing the flower, and begins flinging 
the petals one and two at a time at the ground ahead of her. Her shoulders 
wrench as she walks, silent sobs torn loose from her.

Julie frowns, a blink of startlement at the stark contrast of white petals on 
dark ground. "Um...hey, you, lady? Somethin' wrong?" Caution is set aside, 
though not disregarded, as the Galliard quickens her pace a bit towards the 
woman.

Dulcinea continues to hurl the petals at the ground, and her hands are quickly 
empty save the stem, the thorns of which have marked her skin. She continues to 
ignore Julie, but lifts her head up again toward the moon.

Frustration marrs the gaunt features as Julie peers intently at the woman. 
Then, frowning, she too looks up at the moon above, her birthmoon.

Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous Moon phase (62% full).

Tears glisten on her now-skeletal gaunt features as the rose stem falls from 
her bony hands.

Julie shakes her head sharply, then looks back at the woman, a gasp passing 
over thin lips in startlement. She's frozen in place, unable to do anything but 
watch.

Dulcinea quickly follows the path of the thorns, and collapses to the ground 
noiselessly. Hair splays around her head like an inverse halo.

Julie's feet move, and she finds herself at the woman's side without realizing 
it, a thin hand reaching down as she kneels. "L...la..lady?" she asks nervously.

The hand passes through her shoulder. Even at that moment, the 'spooky chick' 
fades from sight.

Despite having just, the night before, fought creatures out of her nightmares, 
Julie lets out a cry of startlement laced with fear, and she is up and backing 
away from the fading apparition. "What the fu...!?"

The river lapping against the shore is the only response.

Julie glances around, wondering if anyone else saw this, but she doesn't see 
anyone. Her lips purse in thought, and the girl kneels again, a trembling hand 
reaching for the stem.

The stem is gone. The petals too. Maybe the girl was never really here.

Julie pats the mud, feeling for the rose, or something remaining, then a grunt 
of exhasperation as she looks up towards the moon, then back down at the 
ground. "Wierd. Really wierd," she mutters to herself.

Julie scratches her head, then glances around again, perplexed. A shrug, then, 
and the Galliard rises and turns away, heading back towards the street.

You paged Julie with 'Why thank you. (:'.
Julie pages: And thank you! :) You really had Julie thinking. Not easy to do 
with her. ;D
---- Recall end ----

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