Devil's Tower

Who: Jax and Junk
Where: The Jackal Mountain Lion Lodge
When: Monday morning
Why: Because he has to start somewhere!

He couldn't believe that he'd been stupid enough to trust Straight and Saint with the task of killing Libby. Normally, he preferred to do his dirty work himself, but he thought that the task would be a good way to test how far the two ex-ML's would be willing to go for him. He shouldn't have trusted them so much, and had more of his men overseeing the situation. At least he had the satisfaction of knowing that the disloyalty had managed to get Straight killed. He'd had Straight's body thrown in the same place that all of the MLs and other take-over casualties had been: the open pit of the Vance Copper Mine. From what Jax knew of the area, the mine had already been used as a mass grave for virus victims and the occasional drifter that got in the way of the Mountain Lions.

He knew that if he had any chance of convincing the other tribes that he’d done them all a favor by wiping out the Mountain Lions that he’d have to be more careful. His original plan had been to kill Libby and for Jax himself to carry her body to Wolf, claiming that the Mountain Lions had gotten to her before he could save her. Of course, now that Libby and Saint were gone, that idea was out of the question. He sat down at Azrael’s desk and found some paper and a pen. It was time to send some kind of word to the leaders of the other tribes.

As much as he wanted to simply go in and finish the job that the Mountain Lions had started, his forces were not strong enough. The incident in New Haven had really given his resources a blow that would take months, at the very least, to recover. He was lucky to have Reina around to help him hold back his irrational urges. So as he sat there writing the letters he did his best to sound what his comrades would call, civil.

( “....” )

He folded the letters and stacked them at the corner of the desk, then leaned back in the chair to look around. Azrael had had things pretty good around here, he thought. The difference between himself and Azrael, Jax thought, was that he wasn’t so easily weakened by a grudge - and he always followed through on his threats.

He sighed and let his eyes close for a moment. The preparations for the take-over and the actual take over of the tribe had gone as smoothly as possible. Yet, the amount of work that they did and still had to do to restore the Mountain Lion property and power plant was a daunting task. The worst part about it was how little of his original followers he had with him. It would take lots of time to build up the force that he’d once had, and until he had more people like them, he felt like he had to be everywhere at once. Sitting there in the office was the first moment he’d had alone since they entered Sundance to take over.

***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: Gemini and Junk?
Where: The Junkyard
When: Tuesday around noon
What: Gemini needs to find workable leather.
Rating: PG(some language)

Heart Salvage.

Gemini stopped when she saw the high gates and the sign outside what was, apparently, the junkyard. The place was huge, and, strangely, seemed to be better kept than most of the buildings around it. The gate was locked. But it didn't look like anyone was around so she took a few running steps and leapt over the fence, landing cat-like on the firm ground of the other side. She was glad she hadn't brought Callum with her today. What had started off as being a walk to clear her head, had turned into a mission- one that would not have been this easy to accomplish if the oaf of a dog had tagged along. There was no way, even as big as he was, that he could have scrambled over that fence... and he would have made a mighty ruckus if he'd been left outside.

Straightening, Gemini took a look around. She was looking for old cars, the seats of old diner booths, leather couches- anything she could salvage. She picked a row and started down it, simultaneously pulling her sharpest knife from her bag. Car seats would be her first priority... they were generally meant to last for quite a while and could be found in relatively savable condition, even after being out in the elements for considerable amounts of time. She sighed when she reached the end of the row. No vehicles in this one. Retracing her steps, Gemini made her way back to the gate and tried a different spoke in the half-wagon-wheel shape of the junkyard. As she walked, she took note of some of the other items that caught her eye- things that could be useful if she decides to open her leather-smith shop. There was a large, wooden table, a little swollen from the rain and with one leg snapped off towards the middle. It was a relatively easy fix and would serve as a nice work station. There was a couple of old saw-horses, perfect for the making of saddles after they had been sanded down and possible evened out. There was an old sewing machine-That ought to speed up a bunch of projects- beneath a pile of black plastic trash bags full of... romance novels? Huh... I wonder if Libby has ever looked around this place...

Gemini shrugged and retied the bags, intending to come back for them if Libby said she wanted them. There was nothing else in that row so she, once again, retraced her steps to try another spoke and, after wandering past and old but splendid carousel horse and a what looked like the remains of an old windmill, Gemini hit the jackpot. The end of this row was full of dilapitated and rusting vehicles. Most of the doors were open but many of the old cars and trucks had non-leather interiors. About six cars into her search, Gemini thought she had a winner, but the leather inside the oldsmobile was in such a bad state that she doubted it was even safe to sit on.

She searched three more, all with fabric seats, before she looked through the window of an old Ford Mustang. The car itself looked good, though se doubted it ran, and the seats inside were encased in shiny, sturdy-looking black leather.

"Bingo," Gemini whispered.

But when she tried the handle, the door didn't budge.

"Damn it..." Regretting every second of the process, Gemini smashed her elbow through the beautiful car's pristine window... and nearly jumped out of her skin when an alarm went off. Sighing at her foolishness, Gemini reached in through the shattered window to quiet it, then shimmied in over the broken glass to begin carefully cutting in to her treasure trove.

Who: Blaze and Open to all Carrion
What: Blaze tries to orchestrate a clean up of their territory
When: Wednesday
Where: Outside the front of the post office, a block from the hospital

Blaze had thrown himself into a myriad of projects for the tribe in an attempt to forget the truth that he’d discovered in Junk’s desk drawer last Saturday. Despite his need to forget the letter had been transferred to the pocket of whatever pants he was wearing. Even now, as he sat on the steps of the post office it was there in his right pocket. He’d told everyone, except for Sensei, to meet him out front where he’d spent the majority of the morning gathering old trashcans, buckets, anything he could find and lining them up on the stairs.

He hadn’t told Sensei about the project because he was sure that there would be some sort of objection on his part. Blaze was hoping to have a good deal of the work done before Sensei realized that everyone was outside, so that Sensei could see for his own eyes the good that it would do for the tribe. His relationship with Sensei had been going well, and was to Blaze’s knowledge, still a secret to the rest of the tribe. If anything, his discovery of the letter had bettered his romantic relationship with Sensei in whose arms he sought refuge from the newly resurrected demons of the past.

Blaze waited until a decent amount of the tribe had shown up. “All right everyone,” He stood up and slapped the bottom of one of the cans to get everyone’s attention. “Just because we live in secret doesn’t mean we have to live like animals. Some of the other tribes around here seem to look at the south as an open dump and I personally don’t want to live in a dump. There’s trash everywhere, and while I know it’s unrealistic to clean up our entire section of the city we can at least clean up the hospital and our main block.” There were a few groans. “Hey, it won’t be so bad and you never know what you might find.”

He grabbed a bucket and walked down a few steps to hand it to a smaller tribe member. “Littler kids pair up with someone older all right? Everyone grab a bucket or whatever and do what you can. We’ll shut it all up in a house south of here so it’s at least in one place and not blowing all over.”