Weekends {Ricter & Adeline PLZ K THX}

[Vespa]

Ah, the weekends were beautiful. Sure it was drizzling slightly and the wind was picking up but the weekend meant no work, no stupid packages and plenty of time to avoid ToTo. He knew where to find her, she always wasted time at the skypark, but after an incident with a regular and fellow boarder he knew better then to show his face there. It was her stomping grounds and has been since she was a wee hover boarder.

She came low and kicked off the engines. Bending over she grabbed her board and lifted it from under her feet just as she thumped to the ground. Her landing was a little hazy as she lurched forward onto her toes and wobbled to regain her balance. With a hint of luck her feet laid flat again and she stood, proudly beaming at her accomplishment, once again on the ground.

Looking around there weren't many people, most amateurs wouldn't dare the weather and wind was a boarder's greatest enemy. A disappointed sigh weighted the drooping little minx. She'd hoped maybe there'd be someone to play around with. Sulking she wandered to the snack bar and got herself an ice cream.

[Ricter]

Not exactly the best day to go out for just a stroll but it wasn't as if he cared. There were two options for him. Stay home and drink the day away or go take a walk. With the drink running a bit low and his will to go out and purchase another means nearly nonexistent the walk had taken priority. He had come here to do some thinking, maybe even watch the boarders. When the weather got bad there just might be a good show. Someone either good enough to risk it or stupid enough to try it. That didn't seem to be the case on this dreary day.

That wasn't the only reason the weasel was here. He was thinking. His reasoning behind coming, of all places, here to think was simple. If he stayed at home he would simply start drinking and most likely put off his once in a while mental house cleaning. Around here he didn't get bothered too often and the boarders could only hold his attention for so long. Unless, of course, they were real good or about to get real messed up. Still, when it was all over he could go back to sorting himself out.

Leaning up against the wall on the outside of the snack bar he was located, sort of lost in the sea of his thoughts for a moment. His jacket was wet, as was his hat. He'd been out there for a while now, that much could be discerned by the number of cigarette butts that had collected around him. One of the terrible smelling cigarettes was currently clenched between his teeth, the fumes floating up in lazy spirals, catching for a moment under the brim of his hat before escaping around the sides and resuming it's journey skyward.

[Vespa]

{I won't keep you waiting. Adeline can join whenever she wants~.}

The young kit lapped at her treat in front of the snack bar for a moment until moral decency flickered in her skull and politely, though for no real reason, she stepped aside. A moseying gate brought her closer to the side of the snack bar and as she approached, bam, it hit her. Cigarettes had the amazing ability to be incredibly intrusive. Even with the breeze it's stench managed to waft in an unexpectedly large radius around the user and the only way, it seemed, to escape it was to get as far away as you could.

Groaning the kit dropped to the ground in a feeble attempt to evade the noxious scent. A hand waved before her snout as she looked around to spot the culprit, casually being a silent nuisance beside the snack bar. With a retched whine the minx made a spectacle of herself as she berated the sadistic bastard who so casually tortured the little woman to be.

“OH GO--! That's gnasty! Do you really have to do that here?!”

Hopping to her feet she trotted herself upwind and again crouched, clasping a board in one hand and an ice cream in the other. She'd done a few drugs herself but the way her mom always had a cigarette latched between her narrow lips harbored a deep disgust in the punky little tweenager. Finally she could breathe a little and placing her skyboard across her knees she lapped casually at her treat.

“I hope that thing kills you.” Her snide voice drowning in venomous animosity.

[Adeline]

Like most days, it was dreary, windy, and slightly raining. The rain and wind posed no problem for Adeline, who was decked out in her normal clothing-a large billowing frock coat and an antique tri-point hat, but the dreariness was unavoidable. It was like a blanket of depression had not only covered the weather, but also the tigress's mood. She hadn't gotten wasted in a few days, which was, admittedly, impressive, but Groves had flat out told her she had to stop ruining her liver or the consequences would be drastic.

Groves was busy doing...well, whatever it was that Groves did in secret, and so, to keep her mind off of booze, Adeline was wandering around aimlessly. She didn't know how the hell she ended up at the Skypark. She hated skyboards: feet should be left on the ground where they belonged, and most of the people who frequented the Skypark were druggies or teens trying to look "hip". For the most part, the pro's tried their luck on the Drop, which, in Adeline's opinion, was also incredibly stupid. She didn't hold much respect for people who risked their lives standing on a little board liable to break down or kill you at any given second. There was enough risk in life as it was.

The tigress's ears perked up as a teenage girl shrieked, and Adeline looked up to see a hybrid with an ice cream cone yelling at a lanky weasel smoking. She figured the cigarrette was probably the source of the commotion, as she watched the girl sit down far away and give the man a dirty look.

The man looked vaguely familiar, and as Adeline racked her brains, she realized he was a recent addition to the Foundry. However, she'd never talked to the man. She walked towards the weasel, not much minding the smoke.

[Ricter]

When someone started overreacting he looked to the source, seeing the young lady in all her glorious tantrum. The funny thing was he remembered when he was just a little one and he used to complain about his mother smoking. Unlike she probably got, he got smacked upside the head for it. Give her a year, maybe less and she very well might be smoking too, not to mention drinking and who knew what else she'd dive into face first. Such was the way of life. You start to resent the situation you were in so instead of trying to fix it, mostly because either you couldn't or you didn't know how, you found yourself a vice. At least his choices weren't the type to kill you quick.

His answer to her question was one of the most simple. A short drag was taken, the end of the cigarette glowing brightly before it dimmed to ashes that fell and danced toward the ground, half of them landing upon his jacket to stick against the wet material. Then a wheezing cough sounded, a cloud of the fumes escaping between his teeth. Only then he looked away, catching sight of a new figure. This one he knew, only by association, seen at a distance, never introduced.

When the youngster spoke up again with such poison in her voice he only looked at her. Those eyes were blank and cold, not like they were focused on her but more like the could see right through her. He replied quietly this time, his voice a harsh rasp, "Somethin's gotta kill ya." At least when he died it wouldn't be because he fell off a board or messed up and crashed, though there was no set way he was going to end either. Looking back to the approaching tigress, he gave a nod, watching her. Time to meet the boss.

[Vespa]

To each their own. The alcoholic and the smoker would never understand how comparable her indulgence was to their own. The only way to understand the appeal is to stare that moment where it all ends in the face and make it out the other side unscathed. The biggest difference is living life to the fullest instead of wallowing in it's wretched misery. These things are a bit too deep for such a young punk to put into words let alone have interest in debating. Instead the show continued with the little trouble maker pealing an eyelid down with a finger and displaying her pale tongue to the gentleman across from her.

The minx returned to her self indulgence and reduced her treat to a cone. With a crunch she broke into the waffle cone. Loose pieces fell as she finally, after all else, noticed the tigress. Interest piqued in the youngin' as she watched wide eyed for something to happen. The two of them looked like trouble and trouble begets trouble. The consumption of her ice cream slowed. Whatever was going to happen she wanted to be part of it. If nothing else, at least listen to it.

[Adeline]

When the weasel nodded at her, the tigress was sure that he was a member of the Foundry. True, one she had not yet met, but one all the same. She nodded back bruskly, but her attention was compromised by the face the girl made. Adeline rolled her eyes. How immature these teenagers were. She was acting more like a five year old than anything else, though to tell the truth, she looked barely past 15, if that. At that age, Adeline was well on her way to becoming captain of her parent's ship! She looted, stole, and pillaged her weasely black guts out like all the older, more inebriated, men did and she did it better!

But those times were over. These times were grim and dank. There wasn't much in the way of living to look forward to. Adeline made her way closer to the weasel, finally speaking. "What brings a man like you to the Skypark then? Apparently, you're not wanted. I wouldn't blame you for leaving."

She leaned in closer, whispering in the weasel's ear. "And frankly," she said, "that girl is a mite bit annoying. The fact that she considers herself better than you is laughable."

[Ricter]

Parents were so fond of telling children that if they made a face it might freeze like that. If only that were true. However, the little minx didn't have her face frozen like that and the weasel only narrowed his eyes slightly, scowling. So she was going to make a face at him, as though that would stop his self-destruction. Too late for that. She could afford to live her life to the fullest, he was a lost cause. Don't ever become like him, kid.

Seems as though he had fallen into the right company with the tigress. He was stealing at a young age, assault by fifteen and not to mention a few other things, some of them potentially deadly if the truth ever came out. "Ain't bothered here." was his reply, simple, to the point and rather harsh sounding. Of course, his voice was obviously a product of the terrible smelling smoke that floated out with each word.

When she whispered in his ear he just scoffed. "Some are." he wheezed, giving a series of dry coughs. Shifting his position against the wall a bit, he looked back to the youngster. Quiet now? There were two reasons teenagers piped down. One; they lost their nerve, though he doubted this one would be so quick. After all, she'd seen fit to ridicule him when most looked at him then walked the other way. Second; something about them interested her. That one he didn't like as much as the former.

[Vespa]

So far the rouse was successful. They hadn't left and they hadn't yelled at her. Innocently she crunched the last few morsels. Why'd she have to get to the loud part when things got interesting. He ears strained to pick up the whispers of the tigress but all she could make out was the clear and blatant face that it was somehow insulting to the innocent little minx. The two had yet to trade words but this first impression was an instant check on the young girl's hate list. A very long list. Porscha's face wrinkled, partly dissatisfied with her espionage skills and partly directed at the disagreeable feline. This man on the other hand, he hadn't found his place on Porscha's list as of yet.

Unfortunately the pseudo spy's cover didn't last long. It may have been cold but a warm hand is still warm. Slowly the ice dripped from the safety of the cone and oozed onto the minx's paw. With a squeal she moved the mess from her immediate proximity, leaning over her board that still lay in her lap, and licked at her miscalculated mistake. Porscha isn't the quietest girl to say the least. With a whine she consumed the very last bits and sat there, paw dangling mid air and sticky.

[Adeline]

Adeline spared a glance at the girl, who was having trouble finishing her ice cream cone. The tigress had gotten the feeling she was being watched, and had no trouble pinpointing the girl as the attempted spy. However, the only word to describe how that went was failure, to say the least.

She turned back to the weasel, still smoking, calm as could be. He was quite, undisturbed, and didn't say much. Adeline didn't quite know how best to start a conversation with him, much less about the Foundry. She still wasn't quite sure if he was a lower member or not, but she'd like to be acquainted with him. She joined him in leaning against the wall, looking out at the Skypark. She didn't know if she was quite welcome next to the man, but it didn't matter. God, did she want a drink. She'd been sober for 3 days, all in attempt to prove to Grove that she wasn't an alcoholic. That wasn't going well. She hadn't felt right at all, and the urge to get booze was high up on her list, battling with "find out the true name of the island" for top spot. Unfortunately, she thought the booze urge was winning.

She spent a few minutes just looking out at the few people boarding. She had to admit to herself that, though dangerous, what they did was rather impressive. She tended to take a negative view of the sport because she had no wish for her feet to leave the ground, and she was on a short temper what with the lack of alcohol. She just needed to calm down, she told herself, just calm down.

She looked over at the weasel again. "Sorry, didn't catch your name."

As she said this, the wind stirred up, blowing Adeline's long mane of hair to the side, momentarily exposing the side-ways hourglass on her neck, colors inverted as to show her opposition to the Angels. She didn't notice because she had so much hair everywhere, but the tattoo was visible only for a few seconds before the wind let her hair fall back naturally.

[Ricter]

He wasn't on many lists, simply for the fact he tended to stay off of them. The rules were simple. Keep to himself, don't bother anyone who doesn't need to be bothered, keep a low profile. Follow these steps and most looking in your direction will most likely find you boring, uneventful and not worth their time. Hence, they will look away and one would find they don't need to go onto any lists.

As the minx squealed in surprise he looked to her, seeing her trying to clean off her paw, now quite a mess. A wheezing chuckle left him, though it looked more like a sneer. She had wanted to harass him now it seemed that what goes around comes around. Fate in it's own small way.

Looking back to the tigress beside him, he noticed that tattoo, eyes narrowing slightly. She was so devoted to her cause it was almost unreal. He didn't have any marking like that, the only thing he seemed to collect in the way of distinguishing features were scars. If she wanted to talk to him about something the best tactic was business. One look at him and one just may notice he wasn't much of a conversationalist. Rule one and two followed in one fell swoop. However, he did answer her question in one rasping cough, "Ricter."

[Adeline]

Narrowing her eyes, Adeline gave Ricter another full body sweep. She would have preferred Ivan, yes it was true, but unfortunately his real job had called him away, and the Odyssians weren't patient. They had been contacting her secretly, requesting a meeting, claiming to have information. She still wasn't convinced it wasn't just a ruse, but customs dictate she be polite. A meeting might be coming soon, and Adeline needed to make sure she had someone she could rely on by her side. She had been given a few reports on Ricter, keeping tabs on him for a while already, and now she had taken it upon herself to make sure the reports were true. He certainly wasn't a conversationalist, as the reports dictated, and other members she had talked to claimed he was a trustworthy furre. Adeline was still skeptical. Just because someone's quiet and surly and gets the job done does not mean they are loyal. If she was to trust him as a companion, she needed reason to.

"I trust you know who I am," Adeline said, staring up at the tall, lanky figure. She wanted to keep it professional, and get to the business, but she needed to watch him, take it slowly at first, analyze his behavior, make sure he was capable. She might be a recovering alcoholic, but the tigress was no fool.

[Ricter]

Trustworthy. That all depended on who was asked or what the situation was. Loyal though, that he could be counted on to be. When the chips were down and it all came to the grit, Ricter was the one that would be sticking it out. After all, his backround was in organized crime. If you weren't loyal to your fellows, or your boss, then chances were you were not going to make it very far. He'd gone through one side and come out the other, not unscathed, but he'd come through.

As she made her statement he turned his head to the side, spitting the cigarette butt out to the side, fishing through his pockets for a fresh one. Lighting it up, a long drag was taken before he looked back to her. "Yeah." was his answer, smoke filtering through his teeth as the breath escaped his lungs. Idle chit chat had never been his strong suit so he decided to cut right to the chase. "What'cha need?" he asked rather bluntly, looking her over as well.

If it were muscle she needed then perhaps he was the right furre for the job. It had been his primary occupation for quite some time, he knew the way around it. Don't say anything, listen to everything, watch for trouble. Simple enough but he could at least say he was good at it. That and he wasn't going to be going without some sort of 'insurance'. Always had to be prepared.

[Adeline]

"I have two questions for you," Adeline said bruskly. Two questions that could determine his fate and place in the Foundry forever more...He looked strong enough, quiet enough, able enough to get the job done. It wasn't much of one...not really. It was more just for security. But the point was that she didn't necessarily want someone who was only doing it because she was his boss. She needed to know that not only was he loyal to her, but loyal to the city. That's all it boiled down to really. It was all about the city, it's name, it's purpose, the Gates. That's all.

"First, Ricter, why did you join the Foundry? It doesn't pay much, it doesn't ibenefit much, it doesn't help one in much of anything. Why am I talking to you? What made you come to me?"

Well technically, Adeline came to Ricter, in this situation at least. But she was talking about the entire picture. What was Ricter's reason in coming to her and her group of rebels, and vowing to help them? The reason was everything...it determined loyalty, trust, character. It determined how a person would react in a certain situation, why someone helps while another hurts. If the reason was off point, then Ricter was off point, and she'd have to brave it alone. There was only one skyboarder left on the ramps, braving the weather by his lonesome, and suddenly Adeline felt a strike of empathy. She didn't want to have to be alone, like the skyboarder, like she was when the waves of the ocean washed her on shore...all dead but her. She had woken up to her dead father's face before the waves pulled it back into the ocean. She had been alone...all alone. The reason was everything.

"Second," Adeline continued, "Tell me everything you know about the Odyssians."

This was information she needed. Having grown up on the sea, the technology of St. Lucent still astounded her. She had done her research best she could...they seemed to be artificial beings, harder, stronger, better, faster. But did they feel like normal furres did? Were they more robotic, or more furre? She had yet to come into contact with one. Or maybe she did, she just didn't know it. The leader, Abrax...did he have the emotions to betray the Council and give the Foundry information? Or was he merely following orders. She didn't have enough information to know what they were like, Odyssians. She just couldn't tell at all. And frankly, the unknown scared the hell out of her.

[Ricter]

Questions. He disliked questions. However, she gained his attention, his paws slipping into his jacket pockets. For quite a while he stayed quiet, just staring at her. Reasons for doing anything were something he liked to keep to himself. One of those types that let their actions speak for him. Anyone could lie about their reasons for doing anything at all. Still, lying was something he didn't do often, really didn't have a reason for it. The truth may be harsh, gritty and brutal but there was nothing that was going to change it, no matter how badly anyone wanted it to change.

"Somethin's wrong 'round here." was what he said, wheezing out a cough. "I wanna find out what an' put'a stop to it." He had come to her because she seemed to have a good start on things. She would find that he didn't wasn't the one that started anything, he was just the one that finished them. All in all, though, he knew that something was happening in this city. It was driving some down and elevating others. Thumbs were coming down, oppression, separation, strife and difference. He never looked at a furre for what they were, he looked at them for who they were. Lately it seemed not a soul was doing the same. There was a reason for all of this, all the problems. Had to be. He intended to find out what, with or without the Foundry.

Just like his first answer, the second was to the point and without any words to spare. "Next to nothin'." sucking down a drag of smoke so he could exhale it a few moments later. What he could say wasn't certain. Rumors at best, she knew more than he did at this point. Perhaps he would have to do a little scouring, talk to a few, shake down a few more for information. Whatever he could do. After all, she had accepted him into her organization. That meant that he'd be putting what he could into it.