21 September 2014

Harbor Park -- Fountain

Situated in the center of a large, open meadow is a clustering of six 
trees, a flower bed, a few steel-and-wood benches set firmly into concrete, 
and a flagstone courtyard that is dominated by a large fountain.

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.

Val rolls to a stop and steps of the board, before putting a foot on the 
end and making it 'stand' so she can pick it up. "How've things been with 
you?"

"Things are on a slow burn," Slug says, tapping his cigarette on the lip of 
his makeshift ashtray. He sits down on the ground and puts his hood up, his 
head bowed. "Waiting to start my challenge. Riddle contest with Norman. One 
half of my Adren... Thing."

"What's the other half?" Val asks, as she stands over the now-sitting Slug. 
"I tried looking in to Hanford some more, but didn't have much in the way 
of success. Ended up with some bad vibes, so decided to bugger off before 
something decided to eat me."

"To find a treasure and present it to the Sept at the next moot. So I have 
roughly..." He pauses. "Twenty days or so? I can do it. I know I can. I 
just hope that it isn't something silly, like 'friendship', or some other 
intangible thing." He wrinkles his nose, drops his cigarette into his 
bottle, and shakes the sand around. "Speaking of riddles... Another 
earthquake."

Ramos wanders into the park from the south, walking slowly, a heavily 
bulging plastic Wal-Mart bag hanging from each hand.

Val mmms. "Yes. Everything around Hanford spoke of something long abandoned 
finding new life. Which, hopefully, is a /good/ sign. Actually came across 
one tree that had all sorts of new growth on it, which was weird. Wrong 
time of year for that. This treasure something being hidden for you to 
find, or?"

Val is in the somewhat awkward stage of having recently entered her 
mid-teens, although she is blessedly free of acne. Her figure is whip-thin, 
with hints of the womanly curves that'll appear as she grows older. The 
girl has an angular face, high cheekbones, and a prominent nose, all 
softened by the chubbyness of youth. Val's hair is shoulder length and 
streaked in a series of rainbow hues, everything from dark purple to a 
brilliant orange. Due to the girl's strong northern Italian ancestry, her 
pale olive-tinted skin darkens to a rich brown during the summer months. 
Val stands three inches below five feet tall, which accentuates just how 
thin and petite she is. The young girl smiles a lot, a friendly 
cheerfulness that is hard to ignore and is almost contagious in nature.

Currently, the teen is wearing a black t-shirt with a yellow Batman logo on 
it. Over the shirt, she wears a warm black hoodie, with a zipper up the 
front, rainbow striped arms, hood, and front pockets. Val's legs are 
covered by a pair of skinny denim jeans with a small pink flower over the 
right front pocket and decorative 'rips' here and there. Her feet are shod 
in a pair of well-worn black sneakers, clearly chosen for comfort rather 
than style. Around her neck she wears a braided leather necklace with a 
large black opal pendant. On her fingers, she wears a number of thick 
rings, some with a mirrored surface, others holding the luster of stainless 
steel. A black and white leather backpack with the image of a magpie sewn 
in to it hangs from her shoulders, always filled with something or another.

Despite Val's youth, small stature, and thin frame, she moves with an easy, 
sure-footed grace. Her movements are quick, practiced, and at times, a 
little on the jerky side.

www.tinyurl.com/knqlfxp

"Growth isn't always good. Cancer comes to mind," Slug says, sounding a bit 
thoughtful. "Tell me what you saw in detail, if you don't mind. Anything 
that stuck out in any way. Feelings. Tastes. Smells. Anything." He wets his 
lips with his tongue and turns to look at her, scratching the scars on his 
face. "I don't know."

Slug's frame is tall and lanky, somewhere in the neighborhood of six feet 
tall and just under two hundred pounds... But it's hard to really pin down 
the particulars. His semi-loose, dull orange hoodie hides much of his body 
and breaks up his frame, hiding the outline of his body. The hood is almost 
always up, and he takes pains to use it to obfuscate as much of his face as 
possible... And it isn't hard to see why. The right side of this young 
man's tan face has been torn up something awful. Deep troughs of keloid 
tissue run from just beneath his wild red bangs, across his high cheek, and 
terminate somewhere on his slender, stubbled jaw. It's hard to tell when 
he's got his yellow sunglasses on, but not both of his blue eyes move. It's 
likely the right one is severely damaged in some way, or false. 

Beneath the hoodie's neckline, one might get a flash of the white tank 
beneath, especially on a hot day. The zipper on his hoodie has been rubbed 
with grit and dirt to take the shine out of it, and so has every other bit 
of metal on him, from hoodie right on down to his black zip-up boots. His 
jeans are significantly tighter than his hoodie, and often stained with 
something or another. On his hands he wears a pair of black fingerless 
gloves, something cheap and throw-away.

Ramos is heading roughly in Val and Slug's direction, though he also seems 
lost in thought, lips moving as he whispers soundlessly to himself. In any 
case, he doesn't actually seem to notice either person.

Val huffs out a slight breath, then nods. "I was using a trick. Basically 
points me at things and it's my job to make sense of what I get pointed at. 
There was a dead dog, neatly stripped to the bone. An empty sparrow nest. 
An abandoned workboot, partially covered with dirt and quite weather worn. 
It'd probably been there for years. Coyote shit. Wildflowers springing up 
from newly disturbed earth. An old arrowhead, or a rock that just happened 
to look like one. A sickly, half-grown deer, seemingly alone. New leaf 
growth on an old tree, which I mentioned earlier."

Slug glances up and down the pathway, looking at Ramos for a second or two. 
Then he lays down on the grass and folds his arms across his body like a 
dead man. "Yes, yes," he murmurs, staring at the sky. "And what did you 
make of all those Omens and Signs?"

Ramos stops dead when Slug changes positions and now seems to notice the 
pair. He frowns, brow furrowing over his dark round goggles, then looks 
this way and that.

Val lifts a hand and runs it over her mouth, pulling on her lower lip as 
she does so. "Well, there was death - long past. Leaving nothing behind 
aside from bones. Other things left behind, or abandoned. The nest, the 
boot, the arrowhead, even the coyote shit. The deer was along as well, sick 
and abandoned by the herd. Then, new life and new growths. The wildflowers 
and the tree." She glances over at Ramos, head cocked to one side.

"I had similar ideas. Dead dog, death, rotting away, but not gone. Decay. 
Empty nest. Empty Caern. Abandoned workboot, old. An important task left 
unfinished. Coyote shit- Tricks. Nasty ones. The flowers... Something, new 
life, bursting out. Maybe related to the earthquakes. The arrowhead, maybe 
the peoples that were once there. The originals. Our dreams had natives in 
them, so they are. Important. The deer... The deer. Something grown, but 
not yet something that has reached it's full potential? And the leaf, the 
leaf," he rocks himself around a little, worrying his bottom lip.

Ramos takes a step backwards. He's still a few yards away, close but not 
too close. Close enough to hear their conversation? He puts the plastic 
Wal-Mart bags down (they seem to be full of overripe fruit, mostly 
shrivelled apples and black-peeled bananas) and studies the immediate area, 
pointing and gesturing in the air like someone doing figures in their head.

Val grunts softly. "Yea. Along those lines. Deer was sick. So, young, new, 
but sick. Wildflowers and tree looked healthy enough. That someone you 
know?" Val asks, as she casts another look over at Ramos.

Slug looks over at the man, his nose twitching as he smells the air. "No," 
he says, head tilting to one side. "But he doesn't look..." Slug gestures 
at the air. "Aggressive." He lifts his hand a bit higher, and waves at Ramos.

As if to immediately give the lie to Slug's assesment, Ramos walks up to 
the pair, nostrils flaring, looking upset. "Move," he says, not looking 
directly at either of them. He makes shooing-away motions with both hands. 
"Away. This... this spot, you have to."

Val frowns and back away, dragging her board with her, as she puts Slug 
between her and the new arrival.

Slug rises slower than one would think a young man of his age and body type 
should, groaning under his breath. He gestures for 'one minute' and dusts 
himself off, then rights himself, standing up straight. "If it's your spot, 
it's your spot," Slug says, not sounding all that worried. He takes a few 
steps back and gestures down toward the ground with his right hand. "You 
sleep here?" Though he remains passive, he does keep himself between Ramos 
and Val when she fades behind him.

Ramos shakes his head. "No. Sleep... no. Too open." Slug apparently hasn't 
backed off enough, because the weirdo still seems agitated.

Val continues to stand behind Slug, as she watches Ramos.

"Well, we weren't intending on staying." Slug waves casually off to the 
side with his right hand, and slides his left into his pocket. He takes 
more easy steps back, though by this point, his small smile is starting to 
look a little strained.

Ramos' head turns to follow Slug's right hand, then moves back to focus 
somewhere around his chest. Though with the goggles, it's impossible to 
tell exactly where he's looking. He rubs his mouth with thick, pale fingers 
and then, abruptly, gets down on his knees and starts touching the ground 
with those same fingers, like a doctor feeling for a broken bone.

Val rubs at the bridge of her nose and looks over at Slug, before shrugging 
her shoulders.

Slug lingers where he is for a moment or two, then he takes a long, slow 
breath, and exhales it. He glances at Val, meets her gaze, and shrugs back 
at her. He takes a couple more steps back, then starts walking further down 
the shoreline.

Ramos lifts his head to watch them go, then goes back to prodding the 
ground with his fingers, lips moving soundlessly as he talks to himself.

Val shakes her head and trails after Slug, her board dragging along the 
ground as she walks. "He's an interesting one. First time I've seen him 
around."

"The world is full of interesting people, but some of them aren't very 
friendly," Slug says, with a faint bit of amusement in his voice. He 
continues walking, heading for the far off street.

Ramos sits back on his heels, rubbing grass and dirt between his hands. The 
departing pair now ignored.