Devil's Tower

WHO: Jack and Azrael
WHEN: Very early Monday morning
WHERE: Jack's room, Mountain Lion Lodge
WHAT: Az can't sleep, and ends up visiting his girl.

Azrael's wild hair had been tamed to some degree by his meeting with Slick and Ace, and then hours upon hours of strategizing by himself. He had locked himself in his office afterward, missing dinner and sleep and every other task he had to perform in favor of planning himself a war. Az was a very thorough person; now that the order had been given - the one that would set things in motion - he set about researching every possible outcome. After all, one couldn't expect to win a war just because one decided to start one. There were things that had to be considered, like what would happen when the Wolves cut off the Lions' food supply, as they inevitably would. Azrael spent hours and hours in that room with only the sound of the rain on the windows outside as his soundtrack, losing track of time as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon.

When he finally snapped out of it, it was pitch dark, his desk lamp the only source of light casting pools on the pages of writing now strewn across his desk. His Rolex read three in the morning. Azrael still wasn't tired, but his back was stiff from bending over the desk. He stood to his full, considerable height and stretched, then for something to do, headed down to the kitchen. Toast was quick and easy to make, and he crunched on a piece as he continued to wander the Lodge, his fortress stronghold. It had been his parents' legacy, and now it was their son's, but a completely different kind of legacy than they'd imagined passing on to him, Az was sure.

Popping the last bite of bread in his mouth as he climbed the stairs again, Azrael decided on a whim to stop at the second floor rather than continue on to the third, where his office and his quarters were. He opened the door to a room that was not his, and shut it quietly behind him. It was dark, and she was sleeping. He didn't want to wake her up, as he would if he got into bed with her, so instead snagged a chair and drew it toward the window. On his left was the rain, on his right was Jack, asleep. He alternated watching them both, and they calmed him down.

***OOC: Be sure to label the subject line of every post with either "Open" or the names of the chars that are involved in a particular thread! This will help eliminate confusion and let you know what threads are up for grabs!***
Who: Anyone and everyone who’s in Sundance at the time!
What: St. Patrick’s Day/Spring party!
Where: The Trading Post
When: Saturday
Why: Because it’s fun!

In the warmer months the Trading Post is almost always busy, full of drifters and members from every tribe who come there to barter, socialize, and a whole host of other things. It’s generally a peaceful place since it exists in neutral territory and everyone who comes there seems to have an understanding of an unspoken truce. The Trading Post is a large park the sits on the banks of the Belle Fourche river. There are picnic tables, a delapidated swingset and monkey bars, old grills, and of course trader stands. There’s also a dock there, but it is understood to belong to the River Runners, as it’s where they are docked most of the year and those wishing to use it usually have to give the RR a token of some kind, or at least ask nicely.

The St. Patrick’s Day/ Spring party was not planned or hosted by any tribe. The whole things seemed to have come about on its own, first as a rumor and then with complete strangers and tribe members alike planning for it. Saturday morning the place was busy with people decorating in any way that they could. The place was strung with streamers of all different colors, some torn and ratty. There were candles, and lanterns strung about and a few different musicians set up throughout the park. By the time the sun set the park was teaming with people, more people than it had seen in years. Between the boos and the open admission there was no telling what the night would hold.

WHO: Jack and Azrael
WHAT: Az needs to lighten up.
WHERE: Mountain Lion Lodge; Az's office
WHEN: Monday afternoon

Azrael was in full austere leader-mode. He reclined behind his desk in his large, comfortable chair with his feet propped on the desk itself and his arms crossed over his chest. His boredom and mild annoyance showed on his face, but Azrael listened attentively to complaint after complaint from his loyal followers. They were stupid problems that Az usually would've foisted off on his best friend, but things were still tense between himself and Ace, and Az had refrained from speaking to him lately in a form that could've been taken as commanding, in the spirit of avoiding another fight.

As time passed, his expression became harder and the punishments he was obliged to mete out grew harsher. Azrael had little patience for people, especially the less intelligent sort that he more often than not found himself in command of. They served their purposes, but there were many reasons why Az didn't mingle with his subordinates often, and this was one of them. What he sincerely hoped was his last case ended with the girl he was dealing with shaking with nerves and finally bursting into tears as she left the room, after only a few harsh words from the tall blonde behind the desk. Azrael rolled his eyes and rubbed his hand down his face, finally getting up out of his chair to look out the window. It was a beautiful day outside, but in the glass itself he caught sight of the stormy look on his face.

Who: Ace and Jack
What: Jack is walking the perimeter when Ace returns from 'visiting' Ryder
Where: The edge of the Mountain Lions' territory
When: Wednesday, around noon

Ace was in, if not exactly a good mood, at least a satisfied mood. His little visit to the Twin Feathers' territory had scratched an itch that had been bugging him for a long time. He'd wanted to take Ryder down a few pegs long before the man had even broken up with Danni, but now he could tell himself that it had been about protection and retribution, rather than strictly jealously. Ace didn't do jealousy.

Returning to his home territory, for a change he was looking less than his best. The encounter, and the long walks there and back, had tired him out. He'd fared far better in the fight, if you could call it a fight, than his opponent had, but he didn't escape unscathed. He had a few blossoming bruises, a tear along the seam of his coat, and his cuffs and sleeves were decorated with flecks of blood.

Spotting a sentry, and recognizing just who it was, he perked up and smiled like a shark sensing blood in the water. It had been awhile since he'd last seen Jack. She was obviously getting better at avoiding him, but then he had no particular reason to seek her out either most of the time. "Look lively, Jack," he called out as he approached. "You never know who might be coming this way."

Who: Danni and whoever
What: Pondering life
Where: Outside on the porch
When: Night, Late

Danni hadn't taken much time lately to just sit and try to relax. Today she was feeling particularly tense. The week had been hard ever since she received her letter from Ryder. Even stranger was that she and Ace really hadn't spoken since.

When crossing paths with someone in the house, she kept her eyes low or in another direction, not wanting anyone to see that she was upset. Surely, they could tell. They seemed to all be keeping their distance, at least that's how she saw it.

It was times like these that she really missed her parents, specifically her dad. It was obvious to her entire family that she was a Daddy's Girl, ever since she was born. Her mother hadn't minded at all. Grabbing a glass of homemade juice from the fridge along with a blanket, she made her way outside onto the porch.

The night was clear and she felt as though she needed to reunite herself with the stars. It had been such a long time since she'd just sat outside and named off the constellations. She wrapped the blanket around herself and sat down on the loveseat. Figuring she was a bit rusty, she started with the easier ones first. "Ursa Major..." she whispered, sipping her juice. "Orion's Belt..."

Who: Jack, Azrael, and Ace.
What: Being really awkward.
When: New Year's Day
Where: Lodge kitchen.
Rating: PG-13?

Unlike most of the population of the Lodge, Jack didn't waste any of the first day of the New Year by sleeping in. Once her eyes had popped open, she hadn't lounged around in bed, enjoying the warmth or quiet. Instead, she'd hastily gotten dressed and retreated to her own room so that she could change. At least no one else was around to see her do the walk of shame from Ace's bedroom. Not that it was the first time. Not even close. Still, she shot a few nerveous looks over her shoulder as she darted down the hallway. Safely behind her own door, she stripped off her clothes from the night before. They still smelled like pot smoke, moonshine, and Ace. Leaving them in a heap, she pulled on something clean, bound her hair up in a pony tail, then went out to find some new way to distract herself.

Sure, she could have gone back to bed. Jack certainly felt like she could sleep for a few more days. On top of the embaressment that always came from getting seduced by Ace, she was feeling pretty hung over. Maybe there was some tea or, god willing, coffee down in the kitchen. Actually, any sort of liquid with a taste to it would be fine, as long as it wasn't booze. Her stomach did a quick roll at the thought, and her head pounded in sympathy. Mumbling something about her body hating her, she trudged down the steps. She'd still yet to see anybody. It seemed that the rest of the Lodge was doing the opposite of her self-inflicted torture and sleeping off the previous night. At least she'd be left alone.

Just like the day after Christmas, the common room was littered with people who had slept where they fell. Jack grinned as she stepped around those who'd crashed on the floor. At least she'd actually made it to a bed last night. Then again, she'd made it to a bed at the Christmas party, too, though the details on that were still foggy. Shrugging to herself, which made her stomach twitch again, she pushed open the door to the kitchen. Again, empty. Oh well. More whatever she managed to find for her. Jack didn't have to search for long before she hit gold. At least one person was still on good terms with the Twin Feathers herbalist, and she had the very best tea mixes.

Dragging out a dented kettle, she filled it with water and set it to boil. Then, since there was no one around to witness her shame, she stretched out on the kitchen's small island, hands pressed over her eyes. Maybe, once the tea was done, she'd feel a little less like dying.

Who: Jack and [OPEN to the Mountain Lions]
What: New Year's shindig.
When: Starts around sundown, goes alllll niiiiight.
Where: The Lodge.
Rating: You saw the X-mas party, right? Like that, only potentially worse...

Jack was having a weird week. It had all started with waking up on the day after Christmas, sprawled across her bed with ther shoes still on. At first, she'd just wondered why she'd left her shoes on, since she didn't recall being quite that stoned. Then she remembered that she hadn't even fallen asleep in her bedroom, which made her questioning just how in the hell she'd gotten there. Eventually, she came to the conclusion that she must have sleep-walked upstairs. That didn't seem entirely logical, but neither did any of the other explinations that she'd come up with.

After a few days, she'd caught on to yet another quirk in her life. Slick seemed to be watching her a lot more closely. Jack had started doing everything in her power to avoid running in to the other woman, afraid that somehow she'd managed to piss her off. There was a chance that she had, and now all Slick was doing was waiting for a chance to pounce. Since living with Slick for a number of years hadn't dampened Jack's fear of her, she figured it was just best to stay away.

Everything else was normal enough, though. People spent the day or so after Christmas recovering from a little too much indulgence. Then, they started looking forward to New Year's. Even the people who didn't care too much for the holiday's were kind of psyched about this party. Again, there wasn't any real reason to celebrate, since it wasn't like there was anybody keeping a calender, but it did give them another opportunity to forget about how much things sucked. Jack was a big fan of that. It wasn't like things weren't going to suck just as much tomorrow, so escaping for a few hours was just dandy.

In that spirit, she'd been helping out all day with the preparations. They'd uncovered some old party stuff, horns and other noise makers mostly. Though there wasn't anybody in the tribe that was big on decorating for that sort of thing, they'd strung up a few streamers. Most of the focus went to the entertainment. They'd blazed through a lot of their recreational supplies. Luckily, they were on excellent terms with the River Runners, who were more than happy to trade for more. Jack went with a small group to bring back as much as they could get from Moe. It just wasn't a Mountain Lion party without plenty of once illegal substances.

When the sun finally started to set, Jack was already in the common room. Unlike Christmas, she'd actually worn a dress. A short one, too. Of course, she'd worn it over a pair of jeans, with her favorite old Chucks, which kind of ruined any image of glamour. Not that she cared in the least. She was sprawled over one half of one of the couches, and unlit joint between her fingers. It was on that joint that most of her attention was focused. She knew that it was kind of early, everybody wasn't even there yet, and that if she started smoking now, she'd pass out quick. Still, there wasn't any reason not to, if she paced herself better later. Decisions, decisions. Though the temptation was fairly strong, she listened to the good angel. At least, for the moment.

Who: OPEN to all Mountain Lions
What: Christmas festivities!
When: Christmas Day, from mid-morning to night.
Where: The main room of the Lodge.
Rating: We've got it all, man - language, sexual references, very heavy drug use...

Azrael sat in an armchair by the fire in the main room of the Lodge, looking out at the people milling around the room. His people - all of them. There seemed to be more of them than he remembered, when they were all together in one room, but nobody was out of place. He remembered each one, and the circumstances under which they had come to be a part of the tribe. Not all of them lived in the Lodge, though, and those who lived elsewhere he saw even less often than those who lived at home base.

They had all gathered together today to observe that most wretched of archaic holidays. If Az had his way, Christmas would've died out with the adults. He had hated this time of year when he was growing up, because it meant that everybody who was anybody felt compelled to throw ridiculous and redundant parties, which he in turn was compelled to attend. His family never spent any more time with each other than was absolutely necessary, even at Christmas, but they went through the motions of tradition for show, and there were a good eighteen years of picturesque greeting cards of the attractive and perfect Fraser family out there to prove it. Azrael had thus spent every Christmas he could remember since his family bought the Lodge in this building, with too much brandy and eggnog and forgettable girls who managed to corner him under the mistletoe. He'd spent each one of those parties preoccupied with plotting as quick and inconspicuous an escape as possible.

Now that he was in charge, Az could've just decided that Christmas would not be celebrated in the Lodge. However, he had to accept the fact that the holiday was an element of the old world that wouldn't be easily forgotten. Those with happy memories of the day liked to carry on their family's traditions, or take the time to reminisce. Those who were like Az - those who didn't like to remember, for whatever reason - tended to appreciate the opportunity to drink as much as possible. Surveying his tribe, Azrael had to admit that even though he thought the holiday itself was useless and outdated, it did put most people in better spirits than normal. There was a Christmas tree, decked out in the decorations preserved in the basement of the Lodge, and holly and garlands and mistletoe, and food, drink and alcohol enough for the entire tribe to have an all-day party.

People had been wandering in and out of the Lodge as they pleased, but as lunchtime approached, they had pretty much full attendance. Several had said hello to him so far, and most who took notice of him seemed to be waiting for him to do something. It was understandable; most of his tribe only saw him when he had something to tell them. Really, Azrael just thought that he should make an appearance, and wasn't really planning on saying anything. He would've been perfectly fine just sitting with his drink - which may have been intended to be eggnog, but it tasted kind of funny, and then he'd added a generous shot of moonshine and after that he couldn't taste much of anything - but what was one more Christmas toast? He'd only had to make one every year since he was about fourteen, after all.

Azrael heaved a quiet sigh, and then stood up. The people nearby grew quiet, looking at him expectantly, and the hush spread gradually throughout the room. It always amused him when he didn't actually have to do anything, and he held back a smile.  "To the Mountain Lions," Az toasted, raising his glass to his audience. "Merry Christmas." He knocked back the remainder of his drink as the words were echoed throughout the room. It wasn't exactly a profound oration, but it was short and sweet and very Azrael.

Who: Jack and Ace.
What: A conversation?
When: Late afternoon.
Where: The Lodge.
Rating: PG-13 at the least.

Huffing out another agitated breath, Jack trudged through the narrow path in the snow. She'd been walking the same route for over an hour now, keeping a look out for whatever trouble may have come the Mountain Lions way. Normally, she didn't mind guard duty. No, she did, but it wasn't nearly as bad during the summer as it was during the dead of winter. Who was really going to come all the way out here to bother them when the tempature was hovering just above freezing? Nobody, that's who. It was quiet as a tomb, with only a brisk breeze and heavy clouds for company. At least it wasn't raining. Muttering to herself about getting frostbite on her as, she kicked at a snow drift.

She'd gone out without much arguing, of course. Because everyone had a job to do, and this was the one they'd assigned her for the day. If nothing else, at least she had some work ethic. Oh, and a bone deep desire not to freeze and/or starve to death. As frigid as she might have been at the moment, after her stint on duty was done she could go back in and warm up. Maybe go visit the kitchen and shake the Chef down for something tasty. That was way more than a lot of people could say. Jack didn't mind lending a hand here and there if it meant that she could stay somewhat comfortable. That was why she'd come there in the first place, after all. No sense in living like a bum when you could still enjoy a few perks here and there, even if it did require the occasional jaunt out into the frozen wasteland that called itself Wyoming.

At the sound of a shrill whistle, Jack glanced up. She wasn't exactly ready for danger, but she was somewhat wary. Not that there was a reason to be. The whistler was her replacement, the guy that would take the next round of guarding. She sighed in relief, her breath a puff of steam in the cold evening air. Finally. Turning, she headed more in his direction, waving back as they got closer. He nodded to her as they passed by, and gave her a quick pat on the shoulder. Jack grinned and returned his greeting. "Have fun out there, yeah. Not a thing to see but snow and ice." With a wink, she followed his trail back up to the Lodge. It was finally starting to get dark, and the lights had come on inside. With a wry smile, she shook her head. "Home sweet home."

Jack knocked the snow off her shoes as she thumped up the steps. After a few hours out in the wilderness, she was pretty much covered in flakes from the waist down, so it didn't do much good. Pulling open the door, she shook back her hair as the first wave of warmth washed over her. "Yeah, that's better. Much better." Tugging off her gloves and her hat, she tossed them onto a nearby table, letting the heat seep into her bones. "I can feel my fingers again..."

[COMPLETE]