"One minute she was speaking at great length about an actor who had recently sort-of starred in a science fiction film that came out a few weeks earlier and the things she would do to him if she were to get him into her bedroom. The next she was crushing a monster's throat under the heel of her sandal."
Hector's voice comes before he even steps back into the fire-lit circle. It projects as it always does, dragging itself up out of the edges of the audience. In the silent spaces between his words the others can hear his boots scuffing through the dirt. He drags a foot. This is not his normal stride.
"The Hawkes family has been guarding the Bawn here since before the park was born. The true-born of their line were brave and cunning and the kinfolk were honest and tough. This particular Hawkes was born under a Full and the spirit-talkers thought they saw a Change in her future but the future came and it never happened. Her sister Maria died in defense of the Caern near Winnipeg. Her name's Lola and she's the only one left. She keeps a gun in her truck for when she's out doing patrols. She wasn't carrying it tonight."
The scuffing gait brings him to the edge of the circle and closer to the story. He doesn't hold himself like himself and those who follow his voice towards the light can see him slouching like a brain-wasted once-man what can barely hold itself upright. His long hair is yanked back but he's loosened the band so bits hang in his face.
"Near dusk. A park with big open fields and a breath-taking view of the mountains. Quiet. Lola was walking along after seeing a movie with her sister's packmate. They were alone, just about."
Scuff. Scuff. Scuff.
And the party stops for five seconds, ten, just on the border between Purposeful and Uncomfortable. He stands at the center of the dirt-stage with his mouth closed and his eyes unseeing and his balance such that he sways as he stands. Stares out at the audience the way the once-man stared at this story's hero. Just as performance threatens to turn into alarm he bursts out of that stance to imitate Lola, or A Purebred Young Uktena Kinswoman Of Mexican Descent:
"EY! THE FUCK YOU STARING DOWN, HUH? KEEP MOVING IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD."
Back in the circle instead of narrating from the darkness, Hector starts walking forward and one can hardly call it walking because he immediately returns to imitating the antagonist. Lurching is a better descriptor. Jerking occasionally. Like something in him still isn't working right and it's trying to burst out of his skin. In the wake of that outburst his voice is lugubrious. He twitches once or twice and the stage is not the place to be subtle but he is subtle because this story did not take place on a stage but in a quiet park near dusk.
"It came towards them. A young guy, tall, skinny, looked like he didn't get outside much. If he had anything to say to them his mouth didn't open until he was right on top of them. Lola told her sister's packmate her sidearm was in the truck and asked if she should get it."
And Hector leaps out of his impersonation to start walking across the stage instead of towards the audience like he's chasing after the exploded bits of the story, stalking it, back and forth with the fire behind him and not yet in his voice, gaining momentum like the circle is way too small for what they're doing but he has his brain and his voice and that's enough to live in for now.
"The thing threw itself at them and her sister's packmate was standing in front of her so he caught it and when it opened its mouth it had row on row of arrowhead teeth and it bit him and Lola didn't park her truck very far away but she was alone now, she had her back to the fight and if they were up in the city she would have locked the door, right, if they were up in the city she would have had to get her keys out of her pocket and unlock the door and that would have cost her seconds she didn't have, she got there in time to throw open the door and open the glovebox and turn around--"
He rips the band out of his hair so it comes falling down and gives him this wildman look that ratchets when he raises his voice. Throws out his arms as he comes around the fire on this last lap to give himself the impression of being tall and gangling. A different character than the one left fighting the Galliard in another sentence.
"It wasn't alone, must have been his girlfriend when he still had a girlfriend but he dragged her down with him and she was furious, had spikes coming out of her joints, all of them, her knees and her neck and her knuckles, she had spikes coming out of her knuckles and now here comes something to lash out at--"
And instead of pantomiming the movement with precision the Uktena spreads his hands so that the fingers are gnarled and he keeps moving like his joints all hurt him like he's stretched out and might have been pretty and caring and healthy once but now he's bristling with so much human anger he would split out of his skin if the hatred and the serpent's power weren't pushing spikes out of it already.
"--and it grabbed Lola, got her by the ankles and started to haul her out of the truck and if she had hesitated even a second it would have been on her but she didn't hesitate at all she got the safety off and turned around and:"
One of his arms jerks at the shoulder and goes slack out of its hooked state of agony. No sound effects here. They've all heard gunshots before. They all know the ringing deafness come in the wake of it. First his arm jerks and then he falls to the ground like he caught a bullet with his forehead. Lays in the dirt not even panting because he's supposed to be dead. All that running around and yelling and he isn't winded yet.
He speaks from the ground now. Doesn't get up.
"Lola was bleeding from where it'd grabbed her and it was hard to walk but she knew the Littleton cops heard the two shots she'd fired. She looked over and saw her sister's packmate was shaking his hand to get the remains of the other Wretched off his claws. Took him long enough, she thought. Idiot tried to subdue the guy with his fists before he shifted. He didn't even realize a second one was there until he shifted down and turned around. Lola saw the one that came for her was still breathing and she ended that pretty quick. Yelled at her sister's packmate to just grab the one he'd killed and get it in the truck. No time for fussing over injuries. Go go go."
Hector climbs to his feet then but doesn't dust himself off. Leaves the dirt draped across his backside and nestled into his hair. Looks more himself than he has the entire time.
"If Lola Hawkes hadn't been there a true-born would have been ambushed by Fomori and killed that night. The Veil would have been ripped right in half. Sam Evans knows a thing or two about what that's like."
Hector stands still a moment and then slinks back into the shadows to shake the dust out of his hair and yank it back before he tells that story.
Hector's voice comes before he even steps back into the fire-lit circle. It projects as it always does, dragging itself up out of the edges of the audience. In the silent spaces between his words the others can hear his boots scuffing through the dirt. He drags a foot. This is not his normal stride.
"The Hawkes family has been guarding the Bawn here since before the park was born. The true-born of their line were brave and cunning and the kinfolk were honest and tough. This particular Hawkes was born under a Full and the spirit-talkers thought they saw a Change in her future but the future came and it never happened. Her sister Maria died in defense of the Caern near Winnipeg. Her name's Lola and she's the only one left. She keeps a gun in her truck for when she's out doing patrols. She wasn't carrying it tonight."
The scuffing gait brings him to the edge of the circle and closer to the story. He doesn't hold himself like himself and those who follow his voice towards the light can see him slouching like a brain-wasted once-man what can barely hold itself upright. His long hair is yanked back but he's loosened the band so bits hang in his face.
"Near dusk. A park with big open fields and a breath-taking view of the mountains. Quiet. Lola was walking along after seeing a movie with her sister's packmate. They were alone, just about."
Scuff. Scuff. Scuff.
And the party stops for five seconds, ten, just on the border between Purposeful and Uncomfortable. He stands at the center of the dirt-stage with his mouth closed and his eyes unseeing and his balance such that he sways as he stands. Stares out at the audience the way the once-man stared at this story's hero. Just as performance threatens to turn into alarm he bursts out of that stance to imitate Lola, or A Purebred Young Uktena Kinswoman Of Mexican Descent:
"EY! THE FUCK YOU STARING DOWN, HUH? KEEP MOVING IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD."
Back in the circle instead of narrating from the darkness, Hector starts walking forward and one can hardly call it walking because he immediately returns to imitating the antagonist. Lurching is a better descriptor. Jerking occasionally. Like something in him still isn't working right and it's trying to burst out of his skin. In the wake of that outburst his voice is lugubrious. He twitches once or twice and the stage is not the place to be subtle but he is subtle because this story did not take place on a stage but in a quiet park near dusk.
"It came towards them. A young guy, tall, skinny, looked like he didn't get outside much. If he had anything to say to them his mouth didn't open until he was right on top of them. Lola told her sister's packmate her sidearm was in the truck and asked if she should get it."
And Hector leaps out of his impersonation to start walking across the stage instead of towards the audience like he's chasing after the exploded bits of the story, stalking it, back and forth with the fire behind him and not yet in his voice, gaining momentum like the circle is way too small for what they're doing but he has his brain and his voice and that's enough to live in for now.
"The thing threw itself at them and her sister's packmate was standing in front of her so he caught it and when it opened its mouth it had row on row of arrowhead teeth and it bit him and Lola didn't park her truck very far away but she was alone now, she had her back to the fight and if they were up in the city she would have locked the door, right, if they were up in the city she would have had to get her keys out of her pocket and unlock the door and that would have cost her seconds she didn't have, she got there in time to throw open the door and open the glovebox and turn around--"
He rips the band out of his hair so it comes falling down and gives him this wildman look that ratchets when he raises his voice. Throws out his arms as he comes around the fire on this last lap to give himself the impression of being tall and gangling. A different character than the one left fighting the Galliard in another sentence.
"It wasn't alone, must have been his girlfriend when he still had a girlfriend but he dragged her down with him and she was furious, had spikes coming out of her joints, all of them, her knees and her neck and her knuckles, she had spikes coming out of her knuckles and now here comes something to lash out at--"
And instead of pantomiming the movement with precision the Uktena spreads his hands so that the fingers are gnarled and he keeps moving like his joints all hurt him like he's stretched out and might have been pretty and caring and healthy once but now he's bristling with so much human anger he would split out of his skin if the hatred and the serpent's power weren't pushing spikes out of it already.
"--and it grabbed Lola, got her by the ankles and started to haul her out of the truck and if she had hesitated even a second it would have been on her but she didn't hesitate at all she got the safety off and turned around and:"
One of his arms jerks at the shoulder and goes slack out of its hooked state of agony. No sound effects here. They've all heard gunshots before. They all know the ringing deafness come in the wake of it. First his arm jerks and then he falls to the ground like he caught a bullet with his forehead. Lays in the dirt not even panting because he's supposed to be dead. All that running around and yelling and he isn't winded yet.
He speaks from the ground now. Doesn't get up.
"Lola was bleeding from where it'd grabbed her and it was hard to walk but she knew the Littleton cops heard the two shots she'd fired. She looked over and saw her sister's packmate was shaking his hand to get the remains of the other Wretched off his claws. Took him long enough, she thought. Idiot tried to subdue the guy with his fists before he shifted. He didn't even realize a second one was there until he shifted down and turned around. Lola saw the one that came for her was still breathing and she ended that pretty quick. Yelled at her sister's packmate to just grab the one he'd killed and get it in the truck. No time for fussing over injuries. Go go go."
Hector climbs to his feet then but doesn't dust himself off. Leaves the dirt draped across his backside and nestled into his hair. Looks more himself than he has the entire time.
"If Lola Hawkes hadn't been there a true-born would have been ambushed by Fomori and killed that night. The Veil would have been ripped right in half. Sam Evans knows a thing or two about what that's like."
Hector stands still a moment and then slinks back into the shadows to shake the dust out of his hair and yank it back before he tells that story.