Homey is the first word to come to mind when looking at the farmhouse's kitchen. Dark, wood-paneled wainscoting covers the walls to about waist height, dark beige wallpaper continuing to the ceiling. Twin refrigerators occupy the north wall, facing the large six-burner stove on the south. The kitchen counter runs the length of the eastern wall, broken only by the double-basin sink. Cabinets run above and below the counter and a twin-pane window is set in the wall above the sink. A small pantry is set into an alcove alongside the refrigerators, presumably holding the deep freezer as well as shelves of dry goods.
Some twelve feet above the floor, a large chandelier hangs from the ceiling, lighting the dining room and casting long shadows over the bar to the kitchen. A long table occupies the center of the dining room, three chairs setting along each side, and one on each end. On the west wall, a large window looks out on the trees alongside the western pasture. Set into the north wall is a large cabinet, its glass doors closed on shelves containing a full compliment of fine china and glassware as well as a few decorative nicknacks. On the east, a wide bar separates the dining room from the kitchen.
An opening in the southern wall allows passage to the front entryway of the house, while a sliding glass door in the kitchen opens to a clearing behind the house.
The lane wends its way back and around the farmhouse to here, where it widens into a broad, grassy sward contained only by the woods which encircle it on three sides. Buildings break up the purity of the landscape: an open-sided structure which serves as a garage and the big barn, empty of livestock, to the east. A good-sized vegetable and herb garden furrows the land south of the barn, while a pyramid-like pile of rocks, of similar consistency to the gravel of the lane, rests a few yards south of the garage.
North of the buildings, the fields have long been fallow, hastening a conversion from farmland to natural prarier. A sliding glass door allows admittance to the farmhouse, the interior obscured by Levolor(tm) blinds in a wood-grain pattern. The lane leads out around the house to the southwest. The discerning can just barely pick out the beginnings of a faint path into the woods towards the southeast.
The forest is dark and quiet. No, not quiet. Listening. The ancient firs rear up all around, branches interwoven in a dense roof of dark green. Fallen needles lie in a thick carpet on the ground, heaped up around the drifts of undergrowth clinging to the scarce patches of light reaching the forest floor. Every sound seems muffled, and the sharp scent of pine hangs in the air like the clouds of midges that swarm ceaselessly beneath the branches. Even the many deer who roam here seem to step more quietly than usual, and the songbirds seldom sing.
The forest spreads out around you in all directions.
The forest permeates everything. Oaks, dogwoods, lodgepole pines all fight for space to grow, and suddenly it all stops. Here, the forest runs out of space as the land drops sheer thirty yards or so to the valley floor. A curious mist obscures a good deal of the view below, but the hushed and garbled rush of water on stone betrays a waterfall, perhaps on the other side of the crevice some forty yards across. Despite an obscured view into the valley, the view from the northern rim is still inspiring.
The barely-negotiable trail leads down into the mist-covered crevice; around you, the forest stretches.
The Walk flattens out here, a more stable and solid area than around the steam vents or even the Walk's center. The grass near the center of this area is broken only by a single rocky outcropping, an oval slab of rock jutting out of the ground at a slight angle, ending up only about a foot above the ground. The slab itself is fairly smooth, with a few rough bumps and cracks as if to show that it has been untouched by the hands of any carvers. With its slight rise reaching generally towards the center, the rock slab seems to form a natural dais, a platform just a little above the level of the rest of the caern.
The caern circles away from the walls east, towards the swirling area, and south, towards the steam vents; the center is southeast of here. There looks to be a trail, not quite even a path, that may be navigable up to the rim from here.
This area of the clearing is about 30 meters wide and is a mixture of dark soil and clay throughout, though much of it looks like it's been sodded in recent months. Near the center of the clearing, the top of a large white boulder juts out from the soil like a bone revealed after the skin of an animal has been torn away. The large rock appears to be normal stone at its base, but towards the top stone gives way to a sparkling collection of quartz crystal.
Around you, twenty yards in every direction, stretches the caern. To the southeast, a waterfall plummets over the edge of the chasm into a small pool in the caern; nearby, to the southwest, steam comes from cracks in the ground, perhaps some of the same water. Northwest, a rocky spar juts out of the ground at a low angle, showing a sloping but smooth top. The chasm walls narrow a bit to the northeast, causing some of the mist to swirl in that area.
The edge of the valley forms a sheer rock face on this side of the Caern, perhaps 10 meters straight up, studded with outcroppings and lined with narrow cracks in a tracery of spidery fractures. Over the top lip of this natural wall streams a narrow, glass-like sheet of water that hurls itself into a small pool at its base, throwing up spray to soak the stones there, the rock behind it, and the surrounding earth. From this pool the water flows in a shallow bed toward the southwest before disappearing below the surface of the earth again in what must be an underground stream.
To the west, cool mist kicked up by the falls mingles with warmer steam from geothermal sources; these mists swirl around the caern to the north. The caern's center lies northwest of here. You can pick out what seems to be a hazardous trail over rock and up the wall, to the side of the waterfall.
The expanse of grass up and down the valley becomes much thicker here, a circular plush carpet of deep green fibers. Lunes dance wildly in the air, especially around the perimeter of the circle, and water sprites leap from the cliff's edge to the southeast down to the valley floor, giggling the whole way. An omnipresent light mist fills the umbral caern, not fully obscuring vision but blurring more distant objects. In the center of the circle is a large white boulder, with crystals on it glimmering with reflected light of the lunes. Etched into the boulder is the wandering glyph of the Wyld.
The air here is charged, and seems to tingle. Even the least perceptive can feel the presence of this place, sense the strength here. Power reverberates through the Earth's shell like the sound of distant thunder, rumbling so deeply it must be felt rather than heard.
These sparse woods stretch away, north of the place of power that is the Caern, hemmed in on the west and north by unsubtle swaths of decaying, web-covered grey that denote roads in the Realm. The entire area, all around, is a vivid reflection of the physical world: colors are brighter, scents are sharper, sensations more crisp. The trees reach upwards, impossibly high, towards the heavens, while the airts of various animal spirits wind crazily through the undergrowth; the land is replete with life, a place where Spirit and Realm are still close together.
A number of landmarks punctuate the woods: a massive thrust of bright, almost crystalline rock that juts upwards, out of a clearing, like a shoulder of the earth; a pair of giant arcs of bone that glisten with fresh blood, between which hangs a luminous bundle of ephemera; a bright clearing, beneath a broad, steep cliff, across which wind spirits dance incessantly. Faint pathways lead off in three directions.
The sparse forest gives way here into a vast clearing, entirely devoid of trees or heavy underbrush for great distances all around. Low, thick grass, a palish green in color, grows everywhere underfoot; it sways ever so gently in the chill winds that seem to settle in across this open expanse with unusual frequency. The occasional darker shoot or dandelion weed makes its way up amidst the rest, but the hilly territory is on the whole a uniform color, reminiscent of a moor. Adding to the image is the single, ponderous old stone, a grey-brown in color, settled uncannily in the dead center of the expanse as if it has perched there alone since the dawn of time. Grass grows up around the weathered boulder, but its vaguely-flattened top clears the grass by a good many feet, at least chest-high to a good-sized man. The sky, often grey, is a presence in this sudden openness, appearing from amidst the treetops to arc high over the grass and stone.
Woodland tracks lead off into the forest to the north and south, while the boulder itself stands at the center of the clearing.
This large, irregularly-shaped boulder is somewhat flattened on top, its rough stone making a serviceable seat for a number of people. The rock beneath you is a grey-brown in color, shot through with faint veins of white and flickering here and there with accents in pyrite. The surface also appears to be curiously grooved; breaks in the rock run hither and yon across it in smooth, circular patterns that you think, at moments, seem about to form definable images before they melt away into natural chaos once again. Scattered in amongst these marks are small, flattened, shiny areas in which one might be able, if one looked closely, to see one's reflection. The boulder provides an excellent view of the sky; it arcs panoramic overhead, the trees standing at a far remove.
Grassland spreads away down below.
Low-ceilinged and dimly lit by a window set low in eastern wall just above the stairs, the attic is permeated with a strong, lingering scent of herbs and the sense of old power. The only furniture is a large bed on the western wall and a full-length mirror on the northern one. A large pile of second-hand sleeping bags, a stack of washed sheets, and a jumble of pillows occupies one corner, usable by the temporary inhabitants of the farmhouse. A single globed light bulb dangling from the peaked ceiling is the only source of light at night.
A steep stairway leads down from here, the door at the bottom opening on the eastern end of the hallway.
In the front rooms, Matt clumps down the stairs, not dressed for work for once.
In the front rooms, Matt goes through the aperture at the northern end of the front hallway to enter the back room of the house.
A clean plate and silverware are on the table, as is a rather large, plastic-wrap covered bowl of salad. Bernie is leaning into the fridge, pulling out a similarly large tray of baked macaroni and cheese. She turns to place it on the table, glancing toward the door at the sound of the footsteps, and immediately smiles, turning only a shade pinker. "Hey," she greets the other cub, "hungry?"
Matt chuckles and arrests his usual route to the fridge. "Of course, ducks. Oi'm *always* 'ungry." He gives Bernie a generous wink.
Bernie grins, ducking her head slightly as she leans back into the fridge, pulling out a platter of bacon, and sets it beside the macaroni. Almost as an afterthought, she goes back and snags one of the cans of Guinness. Her hand hovers above a Coke a moment before she changes her mind and grabs a second beer. Bumping the door closed, she sets them on the table as well, and goes to get another plate and fork. "A'ight, then... have a seat. 's leftovers, hope y'don' mind. I went all I-feel-like-cookin' yesterday, an' I only know how t' cook for like eight t' twelve people atta time, so..." She shrugs, and starts to serve out some macaroni for reheating. "There's cookies, too, I think they got put in th' pantry."
"Leftovers are fine," Matt drawls. Taking the Guinness, his hand almost unconsciously brushes hers, and lingers a bit. "Oi'm sorry Oi missed dinner. Oi was a closer and didn't get out until two. Spent some bird in your 'arbor Park, though, on the way back to th' pope."
"Nice, innit?" Bernie asks, "'s a good place t' read, with th' benches an' th' river an' all, y'know?" She glances down at the touch, smiling slightly at their hands, and then moves away to put the plates in the oven. "'sa'ight, act'ly no one else ate dinner, 's why there's -so- much left... 'licia was here, but she said she wasn't hungry, she was just back from bein' taken inta th' Umbra for stories an' stuff... wish I coulda gone t' do that, y' know?" She sets the timer, and drops into one of the chairs herself. "Guess you an' she are jake again? 'cause she was sayin' how she was teasin' you yest'day 'bout..." She trails off, blushing again, with a bit of a grin, and amends, "...'cause she was sayin' how she was teasin' you yest'day."
Matt grins, trying not to blush, but failing. "Well, that 'ad more to do wif the need ta take a tropical first thing. Anyway, 'as anyone told you you /can't/ go into the Umbra? Around the caern it's bloody marvelous, not so nice toward town. We could go if ye like. Hell, we could cross over /here/, but it's a lot easier at the caern." He pauses to pull his new bottle opener out of his pocket and open his beer. He reaches across the table to offer the opener to Bernie. "I didn't try ta read much at two in the mornin', but it does look nice. Yer problem is prolly on the ovver side of the Veil."
Bernie thinks about it a moment, accepting the opener, fingers touching briefly, and shakes her head. "...don't think so, pretty sure no one said not ta..." She pops the top, and offers the opener back again, "Mostly I didn't get a lotta Dos an' Don'ts, 'cept th' lit'ny 'course. So... yeah, if you wanna? So far, I've only heard 'bout it."
Matt gapes. "You're pissed. Never?"
"I haven' touched a drop yet!" Bernie protests. "Nope, never, no one's taken me there yet... 's why I was bummed t 'miss out, y'know? Though, I dunno if they woulda taken me anyhow, think it was kinda a coggie thing, y'know?" The buzzer goes off, and she hops out of the chair to retrieve the pasta, setting the warm plates quickly on the table, and beginning to parcel out salad.
Matt shakes his head in disbelief. "Well, Oi can see them not takin' ye if they were doin' Child o' Gaia teachin', but it's somefing you need ta know. Oi don't know a lot o' Bone Gnawer stories, but Oi've learned a few of my tribe's." He nods at the pasta, then crackles a few slices of bacon over it, and digs in. Well, more like /shovels/ in.
Bernie sighs, and pokes lightly at her macaroni with her fork before she starts in. "I know. Lotsa things I gotta learn, an' I'm not runnin' inta a lotta people t' teach me... think I'm fallin' behind. You're still gonna help me on th' fightin', right?"
Matt looks up from his plate. "Sure," he mumbles around a mouthful. "Oi'll do my best ta correct any ovver 'little oversights' we moight run across. Can't promise ta be the best teacher, but oi'll do what I can."
"Cool," Bernie replies, pleased, and takes a bite of salad, quiet a few moments before she adds quietly, looking at her food with a half-smile, "...I like how you explain things." She takes a sip of her beer, and asks, "..So, 's new?"
Hearing the crunch of Bernie's salad as she chews, Matt notices (finally) that he has a salad of his own. He eyes it as though he is suspicious of the value of any food with no meat in it, but takes a stab at it with his fork. "Mm. This is good!" At Bernie's comment he blushes a little. "Well, Oi don't teach every student the same way, y'know. 'S an individual fing."
Bernie nods solemnly, daring a bit of a sidelong glance. "Makes sense... I read once there's lotsa diff'rent ways people, learn, y'know, so you'd wanna tailor th' teachin' techniques t' th' person involved..." She grins at the compliment, stabbing another bit of lettuce, "...glad y' like it... there's more of everythin' if y'want. I mean, obviously...." A quick wave of her fork at the many servings still remaining.
Matt nods. "We should take somefing wif us. You might get peckish. Oh, did you ever get any clothes dedicated?" He turns as Alicia enters. "'allo, ducks. Leftovers." He indicates the pasta and salad with his fork. (Yes, despite what you may have heard about Matt, he uses a fork. He's not *Luke* for Gaia's sake.)
Alicia strides into the kitchen, lifting her chin up a bit. A huge grin crosses her face as she glances to Bernie and Matt. "lo' guys, whats the dilly?" She asks, lips holding that award winning smile she loves to flaunt.
Bernie lifts her fork, waving cheerfully at Alicia with it. "Heya, 'licia. Lunch?" A quick gesture at the food, before she nods to Matt, "Yeah... not t' leotard, though, so I oughta change shirts..."
Alicia smiles and shakes her head at the mention of lunch. "No thanks. I'm just passing through real quickly to the barn."
Matt nods, smiling. "As ye like. 'S one o' the Rites I wanta learn as soon as Oi can." Alicia he asks, "Exercise? Or sparring?"
Alicia shrugs. "Ganna hit the bag a few times, do some excercise, maybe run around the barn in the wolf. I dunno. Just getting outta the farm for some fresh air."
Bernie nods to the other girl, mouth full of macaroni at the moment. "...Sounds good," she comments, after swallowing.
Alicia smiles and heads to the door, ready to go. "Well, Ah'll catch ya'll tonight then Ah'guess. Take care." She gives Bernie a quick wink.
"That reminds me," Matt comments. "'ow are you doing wif shifting? Comfortable? Oi know it's dificult sometimes. was fer me."
Bernie considers, taking a drink. "...gettin' better at it, I think. Kinda slow, but not too bad... an' I only messed it up a couple times, so far." She grins, "'s easier now that I don' hafta find a bathroom t' practice in."
Matt almost chokes on his beer. "*That* woulda been somefing interesting to walk in on," he laughs, recovering.
Bernie giggles a little, "Well, I di'n' want ev'ryone seein' me in th' altogether or anythin'; what else was I gonna do? Th' world is jus' not ready for that..." She blushes just a bit, and takes another sip, her macaroni and salad now fairly well demolished. "...so anyway mosta my first practisin', was in Signe's bathroom. Luck'ly it's pretty big. Now 'least I c'n just find an empty bit of forest of th' barn or somethin', y'know?"
Matt cleans the last of his pasta off his plate, leaves a few remains of his salad and sets the rest aside. "Aye. I was finkin' you should know 'ow ta find the caern in homid and lupus, so we can shift once we get inside the forest, an' Oi'll show you the scent markers and trails and whatnot." He pushes back from the table and chugs almost all the Guinness.
It takes a little bit longer for Bernie to finish off hers, drinking it periodically as she stands and bustles about, returning things to the fridge and dirty dishes to the sink, but it does get emptied, and into the trash. "A'ight," she agrees, "...I oughta go change, then, 'cause I kinda like this leotard, y'know? Not t' mention I don' wanna come back in jus' my bra," she colours some again, "-that- I think might give people, um, th' wrong impression..."
Matt grins around the last of his beer. "Aye, it would." he agrees. "Wouldn't want 'em finkin' the Gnawers send their cubs inta the Umbra unprepared." He winks.
Bernie laughs, and nods, "....yeahhh. I left m'bag upstairs... anythin' else I oughta bring with, 'sides th' 'ppropriate clothing?"
Matt shrugs. "If it's not dedicated, it won't survive ye shiftin' ta lupus. Oi'm gonna try carrying me snouts in me mouf. Trust me. Ye won't need a book in the Umbra," he teases.
"A'ight," Bernie agrees, "...th' stuff in my bag all falls out if I shift with it anyhow, an' don't think THAT's not a pain in th' ass..." She turns, headsing out and toward the stairs, "Right back, then..."
"Meet you out back, eh? Oi'm goin' ta 'ave an oily." Matt heads for the back door.
Bernie nods, "Yeah, a'ight..." She starts up the stairs, quickly.
Matt slides open the door in the kitchen, passing through into the back yard.
Bernie pops out the door, adjusting the cuffs on her jacket. "Right! Sorry 'bout that, I couldn' find th' right shirt for a few... ready now, I think. Yeah?"
Matt was leaning against the side of the house, smoking, but pushes off when the back door slides open. With a smile he asks, "Shall we, then?"
Bernie smiles back, answering with one quick nod, "We shall! Lead on, oh most honourable swami sorta guy, an' I shall follow..."
Matt chuckles, heading across the fields toward the tree line.
Bernie trots along beside the other cub, glancing around and up at the trees and mosses, rather lucky that she doesn't trip over anything at foot level.
Matt waits until the Farmhouse can no longer be seen, then takes out his pack of cigarettes and drops it on the ground. "This will be a lot quicker if we take the Wolf," he explains. "And Oi can show you how to find your way to the caern by scent--assuming no one has done this already?"
Matt's form blurs shortly after asking the question, growing larger to Crinos, then smaller as he shifts through the forms to lupus.
Bernie shakes her head, "Yi was showin' me basic'ly 'bout scent an' all that, but we didn' go t' th' caern, so I dunno how t' do that, no..." A pauses, as she thinks about shfiting, and adds, "...I c'n talk okay in wolf, but I dunno th' language yet for th' middle form, just so y' know... 'cause if it ended up matterin', I wouldn' be able t' tell you then." That said, she concentrates a moment, and starts melting through the forms as well.
Speaks-Circles chuffs, sniffing the air to get his bearings. Being able to find the caern is a good thing.
Reads-In-Dark bobs her head slightly in a rather human nod, and sniffs the air as well. Yes... especially if you want to go there.
I won't be as good at this with fire-sticks in my mouth, he says. But I'll do my best. He takes the cigarettes in his jaws and begins trotting deeper into the woods, pausing frequently to show Reads-In-The-Dark places where the trail is marked.
Reads-In-Dark pays close attention, taking her time at each marker to be sure she's got it down, and trots along just behind the older cub.
Speaks-Circles shows Reads the trail, occasionally dropping the cigarettes to be sure of the scent, and to get the taste of cellophane out of his mouth. He seems to be holding himself back, and it isn't hard to get the impression he'd rather be -running-, all the way to the caern.
Reads-In-Dark tilts her head, blinking a little. It feels different here.
Speaks-Circles drops the cigarettes again, lolling his tongue. You noticed, good. Have you never been to the caern at all? Someone has been remiss.
Reads-In-Dark glances upward, then back down, looking sad. Once. When Jay died. For the gathering. She casts a look at the cigs. Will those come to the Umbra?
Speaks-Circles lowers his head as well. For the Gathering for the Departed. I understand. This will be better. Glancing at the cigarettes himself, he comments, who knows. If not, I will leave them here, and breathe one when we return.
Reads-In-Dark bobs her muzzle, and then cocks her head. Shall we continue?
Speaks-Circles nods, grabs his cigarettes, and pads down into the caern
Reads-In-Dark sniffs the air as she looks around, taking in all the sights eagerly. I have not been in this part of it before.
Explore if you like. I'll wait. He sits on his haunches, lips peeled back in what passes for a grin.
Reads-In-Dark's lips part a bit in an answering grin, and she glances first one way and then another before picking a direction and loping off in it, sniffing and looking at things, and wandering quickly and slowly across the area. After a while, she returns, and plops onto her haunches right beside Speaks. I like it... where do we go next?
Speaks-Circles gets up, shaking himself a little. Across the center to the waterfall and pool. He grabs his 'fire-sticks.' and heads in that direction, glancing back to make sure she is following.
By the waterfall, Seeker glances over as the cubs enter the caern.
Reads-In-Dark looks all around, pausing in her steps. Wow...
Speaks-Circles smiles. As he sees Seeker by the Waterfall, he shifts back to Homid, blurring rapidly through the forms as he walks, weirdly reminiscent of that Darwin drawing of human evolution.
Reads-In-Dark, taking her cues from the other cub, follows suit, though she doesn't try to do it while walking. That's perhaps a bit advanced for her yet. Once homid, she trots quickly after him to catch up.
By the waterfall, Kaz comes down the trail from the rim above.
By the waterfall, Seeker nods to Kaz.
By the waterfall, Kaz emerges out of the mist, swearing gently.
Matt smiles and waits for Bernie, then turns and heads confidently for the waterfall.
Bernie follows Matt to the waterfall, still looking around, pushing her hands, now complete with opposable thumbs again, into her jacket pockets, and grins at the sights... and at Kaz, pulling one hand back out to wave to the metis. "Hey," she calls, cheerfully but not too loud, the sort of muted tone people get when they walk into churches, or libraries.
Kaz is carrying her flute case in one hand. She blinks a little at Seeker, and then nods to him, before getting distracted by Bernie. "Hey!" Breaking into a grin, she adds, "Didn't 'spect t'see you here. 'Sup?"
Matt lets Bernie handle explanations, while he introduces himself to Seeker. "Matt Fulton. Oi don't fink we've met. Fianna Philodox, an' cub, at least fer now. Echen's promised me any day now."
Seeker nods to Matt. "Seeker, fostern ahroun of the Silent Striders."
Bernie does a tiny bounce on the balls of her feet as she explains somewhat excitedly, "Matt's showin' me some stuff, how t' find my way here by scent, an' then we were gonna go look't th' umbra an' all..." She turns to Seeker, and continues, "...niceta meetcha... Bernie Rosenberg, Ragabash Bone Gnawer cub..." She offers a hand.
Kaz brightens. "Hey, yo, mind if I come? 's the kinda stuff I hate to miss."
Matt shrugs, glancing to Bernie for approval. "Oi don't mind. If ye /don't/ come, Oi might bring her up a Fianna." He grins.
Bernie glances at Matt in return, and nods, grinning at his comment. "Yeah, all roight," she replies, in a fair approximation of his accent, "...mm, y'might havva point there...." She slips her hands back into her pockets, and looks about. "So... what d'we do, then, anyhow?"
Kaz seems, for the moment, willing to let Matt take the lead, as she glances at him, eyebrow cocked under her hair.
Matt shrugs, assuming the role of teacher with little self-consciousness. He sits at the edge of the pool, holding his hand just above the surface. "The Umbra is just on the ovver side of this world, see? Loike anovver room just beyond the wall. If you know 'ow to go trough the door, you can get there. Pools and places that reflect are tools we use to open that door. 'Ere. Sit next to me, and just look into the pool fer a while."
Bernie nods, and wanders over, dropping crosslegged onto the rock beside the other cub, and peering curiously down into the water at their reflections. "....jus' look inta it for a while?" she queries, doing so.
Kaz settles near the other two, listening to Matt with a small quirked smile on her face.
Matt nods. "You ever look into shop windows?" he asks. "you can see yer reflection, but you can see into the shop beyond, too. Well, kinda unfocus a little as you look, and you can almost feel that ovver world, like lookin' in the shop." He looks up and over Bernie to Kaz, whispering "Would you mind goin' first, ta be there when she comes through?"
Kaz mutters, smile still there, "Was plannin' on it. 's better that way, sometimes." Crouching slightly, she stares into the water. It only takes her a few moments to get the focus to slip through, fading away quickly.
Bernie blinks, and starts slightly as Kaz disappears. Biting her bottom lip, she nods, and looks at the water again, trying to look at and through it at the same time. "...like those weird three-D posters," she murmurs, thoughtfully.
Matt smiles, still speaking softly, like a hypnotist. "Aye, jus' loike that. When you can feel it, just reach across. Kaz is waitin' for ye, and Oi'll follow after."
Bernie nods slightly, focusing fiercely on the water until things do start to click into a different shape, and she manages to start fading out as well.
Kaz is crouched near the pool, a bit away, glancing about.
Bernie blinks several times, looking rather startled as the surroundings change, and Kaz returns to view. "...cool," she murmurs, looking around for Matt.
Kaz cracks a grin. "Suppose that's one word for it." She's perched somewhat near the waterfall. "This's the spirit world, see. It's the /real/ world. The stuff th' one on the other side just imitates."
Matt stretches, a long, comfortable unkinking of joints that work and the human world has been compressing for weeks. "Aah," he sighs.
Bernie looks around again, watching Matt fade in and stretch with some interest, and then returning her attention to the area. "...What are those?" she queries, gesturing at the lunes, and then the sprites.
Kaz whistles at one of the sprites. It ignores her completely. "Them ones," she gestures at a lune, "They're spirits of the moon, sort of. They get stronger as it does. It's damn dark here, at the crescent and no moons. The big ones, out in the deep Umbra, they actually help control the tides and shit." Pointing at the sprite that ignored her, she explains, "That there's a water spirit. That's the thing with this place -- everything's /alive/. Everything's got /heart/ to it."
Matt yawns a little. Lying back on the grass he contents himself with looking up. "Kaz, since you're here, oi'm goin' ta turn her over to ye for a while. Oi seriously don't want ta be accused of teachin' 'er wrong. If ye need me, I'll be roight 'ere."
Kaz snorts. "Matt, you're not gonna fuck her up anymore'n I will," but lets him retreat slightly.
Bernie grins, and shrugs, still looking around with wonder, "'sa'ight, always been a bit fucked up anyhow..." She looks at the crystalline boulder, and then to Kaz, "It's pretty... it's not all like this though, he said?" She indicates the other cub with a quick glance.
Kaz shakes her head. "Not by a long shot, bubbelah. Over Citywards, it's all Weavered up. And in the further Realms, places I ain't never been, there's some... Odd stuff. Homelands of tribes, Fae places, Flux realms where nothin's solid, all /kinds/ of stuff."
Bernie nods, playing idly with one of the curls that isn't corralled into the ponytail. "...sounds int'restin'... how come you don't go t'' 'em? They dangerous, or just far 'way, or what?"
The metis jerks a thumb toward the city. "We got shit to do here, mostly. Ain't got time to go gallivantin' t'places just for fun. But, also, they're mostly dangerous, and they're mostly unexplored, and they're mostly far away, /and/ time can go real weird, in the Umbra. You think 3 days've passed, and it's really 4 weeks, here. That kinda shit. It's... If you got responsibilities here, it's sometimes better not t'chance it."
"Cool!" the Ragabash exclaims, "Like th' stories..." She sobers a little, reigning in her enthusiasm, "I mean, not that I'm gonna go risk it or anythin', don' really -wanna- lose time or anythin'... but it's still cool. So... what should I know?" She sits back comfortably.
Kaz considers, putting her chin on a hand. "Well. Don't come in here durin' the day. Ain't no illumination, 'cause the lunes're moon based, so you'll be dark, /and/ there's Wyrm shit wanderin' around. Humans, they can't come in here, 'cause they ain't got spirit, but we're like, part spirit ourselves, so we fit better. An', you'll find, you wander around in here, day or so, you don' get tired. Or hungry." She considers further. "Spirits? Most've 'em can talk t'us, understand us. Some've 'em don't bother, but the ones that do, it's a real trip talkin' to 'em. I could see'f my Totem's around somewhere...?"
Bernie nods, filing all that away for future reference. "Sure.... would," a pause, "...she? He? It? Whatcha s'posta use for that? Anyway... come here, or do we go lookin'?"
Kaz shakes her head. "Either he's around here somewhere, or he's off with Elan. Lemme give a holler, an' find out." Hopping up to the top of a rock, she makes a strange, loud twittering noise. It echoes briefly, and then she waits. It's actually not long at all before a very large and very battered rat comes scrabbling over one of the rocks. It's about 5 feet long, and is missing one ear. He stops to peer at Bernie, whiskers twitching warily. Kaz mutters, "Yo, Shadowclaws," and crouches down on her rock, rummaging in her pockets. Eventually, she comes up with some meat, which she lays down on one of the rocks next to her.
Bernie peers back at the huge rat, staying where she is for the moment. She looks him over closely for several seconds, then, remembering what her tribemate said about understanding, greets him with a tentatively friendly, "Hey... niceta meetcha..."
Kaz mutters, "She's one've us, Shadow. Bone Gnawer. I jus' wanted her to meet you." The Rat suddenly glares at Kaz. *Meet. Greet. You /people/. /I/ know who she is. She's in the Park. She's in the place you are a lot. She's /polite/. She's a mouth, too, but not so much as you are.* He turns to give Bernie a dubious look. *Hi. They call me Shadow Claws, her pack does. I figure, it's better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. You new to all this, yeah?*
Bernie laughs, and nods, "Thank you. An' yeah, pretty new t' it all... Shadow Claws is knida nice, act'ly, I think, better'n a lotta thing people get called. D'you like somethin' else better? An' I'm Bernie, which maybe y' know, but hi..." All right, so she's babbling a little.
The rat seems to realize this, as his whiskers twitch in amusement. He abandons his previous wariness and ambles over to Bernie, ignoring Kaz completely. The metis looks amused. *They're kind of a silly bunch, to be naming me like that, but you think I didn't know that anyway?* He sneezes. *I did, but they were aiming to do what needed to be done, and I have a lot of patience for people that'll do that.* He stops, right in front of her, and looks her in the eye. *You might be Bernie, but Bernie don't encompass all of what you are. Just remember that one, when you need to.*
"...Gesundheit," Bernie replies, a bit distractedly, as she looks back at the spirit, and then smiles, and nods a little, "...an' thanks... I'll try t' keep that in mind... what needed t' be done?" That last question is directed at both Shadow Claws and Kaz, as she glances from one to the other.
The rat snorts. *What /doesn't/ need to be done?* He seems content to leave it at that, as he sidles over to start gnawing on Kaz's meat. Kaz looks amused, but a little rueful. "Elan had this idea f'the pack, see, t'be an Umbral reclaimin' pack. Take back the shit in the City Umbra that's been pissed on by th' Wyrm. An' there's a /lot/ of it. So we needa use brains, and we needa use strength, and we gotta take it back little by little." The rat interjects, *But not /too/ slowly, thank you,* and Kaz grins. "So we Summoned a buttload've Rats, because like I've said before, Rat, he's the best ever at fightin' at a disadvantage." The rat interjects, again, *Less propaganda. More facts. I took 'em because they need help. They took me because I was the only one there willing to kick ass.*
Bernie grins, listening to the pair, and nods. "So's th' ass bein' suitably kicked, then? How d'ya reclaim things?"
The rat glances sharply at Kaz. *They're working. Can't say they're doing /all/ they can. But they try.* Kaz looks only slightly chastened. She looks more chastened when Shadows leaves off his eating and leans in to nip her hand sharply. "Hey," she growls. *No 'hey' about it. You try. Some. You will try more. No questions. No quarter.* Kaz glares at him a moment, and then her gaze slides away. *Reclaim.* The rat refocuses on Bernie. *You seen Wyrm?*
Bernie nibbles her lower lip thoughtfully. "...from what they tol' me... I guess yes, prolly... but I don' think in th' same way, maybe?" She looks at the pair of them questioningly, "...is it th' kinda thing where if y'see it, y'-know-?"
The rat and the metis speak simultaneously. "Yes." *No.* The rat glares at Kaz. This time, she glares back. "What the fuck?" The rat says, remarkably patiently, *Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, they sneak up on you. That's the whole /reason/ you people are losing.* Scuttling over to Bernie, he nips -- and misses, evidently purposefully -- at her ankle. *But some things, yes, they're obvious. But once you fight those and kill them, then you have the stuff it destroyed and perverted. Then you have to take /care/ of it.* He shoots a dubious look at Kaz. *They sometimes seem to forget that.*
Bernie pulls her ankle away slightly as it's nipped at -- those teeth look sharp. "Then I think," she says slowly, considering the explanation, "maybe I've seen the residue, but not th' big obvious bits you -know- you saw?"
This, the metis takes. "Yes. 'Less someone's done stuff with you I don' know about, you ain't seen the direct stuff we fight. Not yet. You see the product -- the rage, the helplessness, the learned despair, the wanton, random destruction. People giving /up/. Things fallin' apart." She shrugs. "We can't fight the feelings, so we fight the direct cause of it."
"Nah," Bernie replies reassuringly, with a slight shrug of her own, "nuttin' that bad's happened t' me so far really. Not complainin' 'bout that either." She glances upward briefly as she says that. "...so, okay. How d'ya fight it?"
"Th' direct cause?" Kaz's teeth glint. "Sheer brute force." The Rat glares at her, and she adds, hastily, "Along with pack tactics and brains."
Bernie grins at the Rat, and nods. "...like with 'licia's stepdad?" she asks, a little hesitantly.
Kaz looks entirely blank. "Huh?"
Bernie shakes her head, "...never mind. So like how?"
Kaz says "No, c'mon, tell me -- it'll gimme a clue what you've got in mind, see."
Bernie pushes one of the few curls still independent behind her ear, "Uh, she said somea th' others went an' killed 'im. 'cause he'd been rapin' her..." She says it quietly, with some discomfort.
Kaz blinks. "Oh. Well. Sometimes..." She trails off. "But no, I don' tend to go in f'summary justice an' judgement. Y'can be wrong too often. What I'm talkin' about is fightin'... Well, ten foot tall blobs of glup, or things with spears for arms, or a buildin' that'll get up an' start fightin' you. Th' stuff humans can't handle."
Bernie blinks at that, and nods. "So, like... monsters. Yeah? I -know- I haven' seen any of -them-, yet."
Kaz nods. "Monsters. From beyond Venus. We ain't talkin' real pretty. I'd kinda assumed you knew that. Sorry."
Matt stirs, having napped for a good bit. Peaceful, too, judging by the drool on his shoulder.
Bernie shakes her head a bit, "...I only know what people tell me an' I pick up, and people've been busy a lot lately, an' all..." She glances over as Matt stirs, and smiles, "Good nap?"
Matt tries to sit up, but that arm must be asleep. He tries again with the left. "Hmm? Cor, yes. Anyone call while Oi was out?"
Kaz sighs. "Yeah. Well. Bug me when I'm around. I'm a nitwit, but I ain't an asshole."
"I didn' think you were either," Bernie replies, glancing at Kaz in surprise. "I will, though, bug ya I mean, not think that... an'," she turns to Matt, "Act'ly, yeah. Matt, this's Shadow Claws; Shadow Claws, this's Matt, th' no longer snorin'."
Matt blushes. "Oi snore?" he asks, a bit sheepishly. "Um, 'allo. Sorry 'bout that. Oi don't rest anywhere as well as Oi do 'ere..."
The Rat peers at Matt dubiously. *You're... Not one've my bunch?* It's perfectly understandable, oddly enough.
Scratching his head and standing, to present himself formally to the rat spirit, Matt asks "What'd 'e say?"
Bernie flashes a grin at the other cub, "Yeah, but it's kinda cute, not like th' two-headed monster 'r anythin', no earthquakes... an' nah," looking at the Rat again, "he's a Fianna."
Kaz explains, "He seems to think you're a Gnawer." The Rat peers at Matt dubiously, and then Bernie. *He's not? Coulda fooled me.*
Matt smiles offering a hand for the Rat to shake. "Oh, no. Matt Fulton, Fianna Philodox cub. Known also as Speaks-in-Circles. Oi've got a lot o' Gnawer friends. Surprising 'ow well received a few left-over steaks can be."
The Rat speaks very slowly, as if Matt were a little hard of hearing. *I'm Shadows. That Gnawer's Totem spirit.* He extends a paw, balancing on three feet, and shakes, to the extent he's able.
Bernie watches, silent now, looking quite amused. She presses her lips together briefly to prevent any untoward giggling.
Matt leans over towards Kaz and whispers, sotto voce, "Would a gift be appropriate 'ere?"
Kaz says, solemnly, except for her eyes twinkling, "Food is never objectionable."
Matt looks apologetic. "Oi, wish oi had some." He turns back to the Rat. "It isn't a filet mignon, or anything, but 'ere: a token o' my esteem. Ye got some noice mates 'ere." He hands the Rat his dedicated brass zippo. Nearly full of fuel, too.
The Rat cradles it in his paw for a moment, then sniffs at it. Twitching his whiskers, he says, in a very kindly manner, *You'll work fine.* He extends the zippo back to Matt. *But I think more than three moments with that in my possession, and I'd stop breathing.*
Matt raises his eyebrows, speechless. "Roight then. Um...yeah."
Bernie starts to try to check her backpack for things, but as it isn't there, she fails. Her eyes widen very slightly as Matt offers the lighter, and watches the Rat. At his response, though, she does giggle a little. "You should smell the actual cigs, then," she teases the other cub a bit.
Kaz stirs slightly. "Hey. Claws. You stick here while I go patrol?" The Rat glances from Bernie to Kaz, and twitches his whiskers again. Kaz seems to take this as an affirmative, as she asks both Matt and Bernie, "Yo, folks, see you around?"
Bernie nods to the other Gnawer, "Def'nitely... thanks, Kaz. I'll track y'down soon if I don't jus' run inta ya, 'kay?"
Kaz mutters, "You do that," and reaches over to the other side, remarkably quickly.
Matt shuffles, at a loss for words, but too infused by the vibe here to be embarrassed for very long.
Bernie grins at Matt, and stage-whispers, "...I think he likes you..." She gets to her feet herself, and stretches, pushing her arms toward the sky. "...mmmph. I like it here, 's nice... thanks."
Matt gives Bernie a look of amusement. "Yer welcome, Oi suppose, but it's none o'my doing. Thank Gaia fer this. Now do you understand that part of the Litany? Do nuffing to cause a caern to be violated? Would you want this spoiled?"
"Partly your doing," Bernie points out, "you're th' one who brought me here, right? An' yeah... I mean, I understood it b'fore, but I -get- it more, now... def'nitely wouldn' wan' this spoiled, no." She reaches back and dusts herself off a bit.
Having met everyone and had its conversation, Shadows scurries into the woods around the caen, vanishing quickly as his name.
Matt stretches again. "So, did Kaz answer evry one o' yer questions about the Umbra? Megan didn't actually summon any spirits fer us when she brought Luke, Layne and Oi 'ere the first time. Then she isn't a Theurge either."
Bernie considers, taking another appreciative look around. "...I dunno. I dunno what there is t' ask, really, y' know? So what d' -you- think I oughta know?" She slips her hands into her jacket pockets.
Matt shrugs. "Ta be honest, oi've only been 'ere a coople'a times meself. It gets worse as ye go toward the city, Oi know that. The only spirit Oi ever killed was some Weaver-fing livin' under the bridge into St. Claire. I can only assume the City itself is 'orrible." He looks apologetic. "Sorry, luv, but Oi'll bet 'arbor Park is nasty on this side."
Bernie does looks a little distressed at that. "Y'don't think maybe it's nicer than other bitsa th' city, bein' as it's a park an' all? I mean, even if it's kinda a low rent park..."
Matt puts his hands up in a 'woah' gesture. "'ang on, hang on," he says. "Yer average septic can't go ta the Umbra, but they can *feel* it, neh? So if people are avoiding the place, an' it's noice an' all, then mebbe it's the Umbra drivin' 'em off, see? 'Sides," he thinks, gesturing with a hand again, "I seem ta remember the sept fightin' Wyrm spirits in the river and sewers that run roight under the park last year. So maybe kickin' some Wyrm and Weaver butt would get them out of the Umbra of the park an' people will start comin' back, hmm?"
"Well," Bernie grants, one hand going to the back of her neck, beneath the ponytail, "...I mean, I like it, but I di'n' 'zactly grow up inna kin'a neighbourhood mos' people go strollin' in after dark for fun... 'parently gangs useta hang there, but I haven' seen 'em. So, I mean, guess it wouldn' be -all- on this side... but, yeah. Might be an idea." She pauses, considering, and looks at him, "...we could go see what it's like on this side? Or d'ya think that'd be a bad idea?"
"Right now?" Matt blurts, surprised. "Ahh, well. Oi'd want some back up, I fink. Oi'd /hate/ ta 'ave ta explain ta Joey 'ow oi got us boaf killed."
Bernie giggles, "Well, practic'ly, if y'got us both killed, I think you'd've got outta havin' t' 'splain it... but I'm not 'zactly dyin' t' be killed anyhow. So I bow t' y'r superior wisdom in this matter, then... maybe when I've got s'more practice with th' combat an' all, an' we've got s'more people with?"
Matt smiles. "Call it a date. 'opefully, Oi'll talk you inta postponing until Oi come back from me Rite o' Passage. Besides,"--he spreads his arms expansively--"there are lots of great places ta explore on this side. Oi'd love ta see if we can walk from 'ere to the Lone Boulder."
"Gee," Bernie comments, putting on extra wide-eyed innocence, "an' here I thought people us'ly went with dinner anna movie..." She grins, only a tad pinker, and nods, "...yeah, 'spect it c'n wait f'r y'r rite. I mean, that's any day now, right? So it's prolly a moot point anyhow. ...so what's th' Lone Boulder? Big masked stone onna horse?"
Matt shakes his head, getting the reference for once. "Big rock out by itself in the forest. Noice place ta fink. 'member when oi was getting sick and Luke suggested Oi spend the night in lupus? Oi spent it on the Boulder. Pretty out there. The stars..."
Bernie nods. "_Sounds_ nice," she comments, "...y'wanna try an' see if we c'n find it? 's not that late yet, I don' think...."
Matt smiles. "Sure. In the world, it's north of the Caern. Shall we give it a go?"
Bernie grins, and nods again,. "Plan. You lead, I'll go with... I dunno which way's north, here, I don' think..."
Matt closes his eyes, touches one finger to his nose and spins. Coming out of it, he rights himself and points. "That way," he says, chuckling.
Bernie cocks her head a bit as the new surroundings come into view, and pulls her hands from her pockets to point at the big rock, "....that it, maybe?"
Matt nods. "'s my guess." When they get close he speaks again. "Now, to get back across, you just reach like you did before.
"...without lookin' inta anythin' this time? Just... thinkin' it?" Bernie queries, glancing around for water to use if not.
Matt offers the slightly sparkling face of the rock. "Something to, uh, /not/ focus on, neh?"
Bernie grins, and nods. "A'ight... let's see how this goes, then...." SHe gazes at it, unfocusing her eyes a bit, and concentrates.
Matt appears in a swirl of wind and light.
"Ha!" Matt laughs, sweeping Bernie into a hug. "Oi knew you could do it!"
Bernie grins broadly, rather satisfied with herself, and looks around, stoping as she's suddenly hugged. She recovers quickly, though, and hugs back, grinning even bigger. "Go me! I'd like t' thank th' Acad'my, my fans, an' 'specially my guru here, without whom this moment would not have been possible..." A mock sniffle, which quickly dissolves into a giggle, and a rather excited squeeze.
Matt goes all modest. "Bah, someone woulda showed ye, if it 'adnae been me. C'mon, Oi'll show ye the top!" He takes her hand in his and heads for the top of the rock.
Bernie allows herself to be led, following carefully up the rough stone, and straightens as she clambers to the top. Looking around, and then up, she's speechless for a moment before murmuring, "....wow."
Matt nods. "Beautiful, isn't it? Pretty nice down here, too," he adds.
Bernie nods, still looking up. "I've never seen so many stars at once," she comments quietly, "unless you count the planetarium... which isn't the same..." After another moment, she looks down at the rock itself, and traces a couple of the grooves curiously with the toe of her boot.
Matt sits, managing to get cross-legged without letting go of Bernie. "So oi'll bet you've got the constellations down. Or know where ta find the right book..."
"I know some of 'em," Bernie admits, crossing one ankle in front of the other and dropping down crosslegged beside Matt in a motion much more graceful than most of hers; it must be something she's had occassion to practice. "I'd need a book t' do a lot, but yeah that wouldn' be hard t' find... prolly in th' public library, an' if not, -def'nitely- in th' college one..." She tilts her head to the side a bit, leaning over an inch or so to approximate points of view, and lifts her free hand to point out into the sky. "See those stars there... and those others right there? Tha's Gemini, 's my littlest brother's sign... an' over there, that one where they go 'round there, an' up an' over an' up again like that? 's Draco. Lessee..." She scans the sky some more, looking for the patterns she knows.
Matt listens, and looks up when she points something out, but is actually looking more at Bernie than the stars. "Which one's Virgo?"
Bernie's head tilts back further, looking for those stars. "Mm... I -think-," she says slowly, after quite a few seconds, "Virgo won' show up here for another month 'r two... I'll hafta look it up, I guess. Oh," she grins, and leans a bit more to Matt's side as she points at three bright stars almost in a row, "there's Orion's belt, 'course. An' th' resta him too..."
"Ah," Matt notes. "Too bad, Virgo's my sign. September." He pauses to brush one of her curls back and let it fall back down. He seems to enjoy doing that just because. "Oi, you 'aven't finished that book on the Beats, 'ave you?"
"Which day?" Bernie queries, "...I'm Scorpio... November twenny-secon'... can't see it right now, 'cause it goes away when Orion comes up." She looks back down from the sky to Matt as he moves her curl, and smiles sidelong at him. "Act'ly... I did, but then I started readin' it again. Jus' finished, though... d'you still want t' borrow it? 's back at th' house, in my bag..."
Matt smiles. "Nah. Sometoime. Just glad ta 'ear ye loike it. What day? Oh, the nineteenf. 'M about 'alf way ta me eighteenf birfday. Oi'm 'oping ta go to SCCU in the fall."
Bernie nods, smiling wider, "Me too... well, not th' birthday, 'course, but I'm kinda hopin' I c'n take th' GED an' go t' SCCU in th' fall too. 'm old enough now, technic'ly, so..." She glances up again briefly, "No one in my fam'ly's ever gone t' college an' I was always gonna be th' one t' start, so I'm still gonna if I can. Y'know?" Glancing back to her companion, smile softly returning, she adds, "...an' I do like it. 's a perfick book." Glancing at the stars again, she quotes quietly, "...'angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night'... yeah, I like it."
Matt leans back on the rock and continues to look up at Bernie. "There's yer 'starry dynamo,' right there, hmm? You'd make a better angelheaded hipster than me, though, I fink."
Bernie's laugh carries through the cold night air as she nods. "Yeah, 's what I was thinking of... 'cept, I dunno that I'd make a better one. Not muchuva hipster, y'know? Though, angelheaded geek just doesn't have quite th' same ring t' it," she jokes self-deprecatingly. "...Mrm. 'licia could be one, maybe."
"You fink? She doesn't strike me as one ta sit down wif a good fish like Kerouac." He sketches a shrug. "You know 'er better than Oi do, though." He scootches around, making himself comfortable (and forward) by laying his head in Bernie's lap.
Bernie looks down at Matt in some surprise as he resettles, and grins, pleased, the fingertips of her free hand tentatively touching a few of the spikes. "...I dunno... I don' think she'd wanna read it, nah... but she might like t' hear it. She def'nitely makes a better hipster'n me, though, either way..."
Matt considers. "You 'ave a point. She /is/ a Galliard. She'd probably file it away an' put it ta music." He smiles. "So what do /you/ do, when yer not revoitalizin' public works projects an' bodgin' some jim togevver for work-starved Fianna?"
Bernie smiles back, and adjusts the errant curl. "Well... I do a lotta readin', an' spend some time at th' library, an' th' museums, 'cause, well, they're int'restin'... I help in th' library somedays, at th' ref'rence desk, y'know? I wanted t' help in th' kids section, but too many of 'em were scareda me..." She sounds a bit bemused about that. "You'd think I'd be a nat'ral with 'em with all my sibs, but I guess not. 'sokay though. Mm... practice shiftin' an' stuff... An' 'course I hang 'round where there's other 'rou so I c'n pick stuff up... an' 'cassionally I go t' th' shops an' pick -other- stuff up..." A quick, slightly mischevious grin there. "... an' once in a while I go t' th' department stores an' watch th' TV displays. Thrillin', huh? Danger, excitement, an' really wild things..."
Matt muses. "Sounds loike Tom and Blackjack and Oi. Terrors of Wessex, we. Oi's always the level-'eaded one though, talking 'Jack out of the more arsed up stunts 'e'd try ta pull. Still, getting the rev up beat the gypsy out o' going back ta the mickey and me stepmum..."
"Gettin' th' rev up?" Bernie echoes, head tilting slightly, "..'s'at one? ...I useta play a lotta pranks, but not so much since I got here... mostly 'cause I useta do 'em at school, I think." A grin, "...y'know a couple months ago, Max painted th' wall of Signe's bedroom pink?" She giggles a little at the memory. "...an' what d'you do, now, when y'r not at work or raisin' up th' newer cubs?"
Matt raises an eyebrow. "Lately? Try ta catch up on me bo-peep, eat, and try ta fink of anyfing that will 'elp me on my Rite, whatever it is. 'S part o' the reason Oi'm teaching. teacher learns as 'e teaches, neh?"
Bernie nods, "...yeah, 's like automatic r'view, I guess..." She absently and lightly plays with a bit of his hair, thinking. "...who d'you think you'll be goin' with? Or d'you think y' might have one alone?"
An unhappy look plays across his face. "Wish Oi knew. If it's a Fianna-only party, it'll be just me. If it's a philodox thing...it'll just be me. If it's a written exam, ye might be able ta help, I dunno." He seems a little defensive, and unhappy in his ignorance. "Never been frough one before, roight?"
"Right," Bernie agrees, giving the hand she's still holding a soft squeeze. "Well... if it's a standardized test, I'm your girl... 'course I kinda doubt they're gonna go for that meth'dology... maybe... there any other cubs 'bout ready t' go, at all? I know Max's been a cub a while, right? So maybe they'll send her with?" She pauses, glancing up at all those stars again. "...I dunno. How 'bout you jus' teach me lotsa stuff for a while, an' that way I get closer t' bein' able t' go too, an' you c'n r'view. An' I'm sure 'licia an' I'll both make sure there's food, so eatin's covered."
Matt squeezes back, smiling again. "Don't know Max, other than that night before Christmas. Oi'll take any 'elp Oi can get. For all I know, Brian's goin' ta send fer me tomorrow. Until then, Oi'll teach you all Oi know, as much as /that/ is, so you can get closer. To...to Riting, that is." He blushes, self-conscious and worried about this whole Rite business.
Bernie nods. "Max's pretty cool... an' try not t' worry too much, 'kay? You'll do great, I'm sure, whether you get a whole posse t' Rite with or just you," she opines gently, but confidently. "But anyhow... 'f I c'n help with anythin', just ask, yeah?"
Matt purses his lips, putering as he blows air between them. "Oi know, Oi know, but Desiree had her kit togevver too, and she didn't make it. Oi jus' worry. Oi 've been focused on it for nearly a year, neh? Not," he says, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb, "that Oi 'aven't 'ad some lovely distractions."
Bernie blushes a bit at the implication, and gives his hand another light squeeze. "I still think you'll ace it," she replies. "...d'you know what other people had t' do? 'specially other Fianna, or 'doxen, or both? Maybe that'd help some... hey..." Her eyes dart to the sky, brow furrowing slightly, "...'dyou see that, or was it my 'magination? Thought I saw a shooting star."
"Where?" Matt sits up to ask. This, purely incidentally, put hims nearly at eye level. He locks eyes with Bernie when he turns from the sky and just about falls into them. "Well...um. Luke. Luke and Layne 'ad to, to..."
Bernie gazes back, lips parting very slightly as his eyes distract her from the topic for the moment. "...to?..." she prompts faintly, after several seconds, without looking away.
Matt tries to remember what he was talking about. "To talk a spirit into 'elpin' 'em, Oi fink," his words are almost carried away on the chill breeze. "Um." Again at a loss for words. Unusual for the glib British cub. His gaze slides away from hers briefly to take in the rest of her face, but always returns to her eyes.
Bernie nods slightly, her focus behaving similarly. "...oh..." She swallows lightly, pressing her lips together to wet them, as they seem to have gotten a little dry. "...um," she echoes, her hand sliding up to self-consciously push away that curl.
Without saying anything more, Matt leans forward at last, bringing his lips gently to hers. He has to put an arm to one side of her body to keep himself from falling over in the process, and winds up pretty much pressed against her from the waist up. Not that you'll get a complaint from him on this point.
Bernie leans in a little herself, her eyes falling closed as she kisses back softly. Gradually, she seems to relax a bit, her shoulders lowering as some of the tension moves out of them, and her free hand moves up to settle lightly on his shoulder.
Matt shifts a little more, to put all his weight on the arm, so he can bring the other around Bernie and hold her a little closer. The kiss shifts too, to something a little more open-mouthed. Matt isn't a bad kisser, having apparently unlearned a little bit of what boys learn about kissing from watching television. He almost closes his own eyes as well, enjoying this, but leaves them slitted open, not wanting to slip and fall off the boulder or anything.
Bernie kisses rather tentatively, though not at all reluctantly, following Matt's lead. Her hand slips from his shoulder to move further about him as he holds her closer, and shortly thereafter her other hand moves up and fairly deftly removes her glasses, sliding them into her jacket pocket before she wraps that arm around him as well. The possibility of falling off the boulder is probably the furthest thing from her mind.
Matt eventually has to come up for air, which he does, with a little gasp. He leans his forhead against hers, once again falling into her eyes. He grins, and his chest shakes, which soon makes its way past his vocal chords as a chuckle.
Bernie's slightly shy little smile quickly develops into a mirroring grin, and she closes her eyes a second before reopening them and looking back into his, close enough not to be blurry, even without her glasses. She tilts her head just enough to touch the tip of her nose gently to his for the briefest moment, and then back, staying forehead to forehead and eye to eye, arms still loosely about his shoulders.
"...and me a philodox," Matt finally sighs. "Thank you," he adds, giving her an extra squeeze.
Bernie squeezes back, moving her head to the side of his, and down against his shoulder, very near his neck. "..and you.." she murmurs, and then adds teasingly, "... 'least -I'm- a ragabash. We're -s'posta- live dang'rously, right?" Another squeeze, and she lifts her head again. "...'s not really anything wrong, though, right?" She looks at him a bit searchingly before dropping her gaze again, and pinkening a bit, "...doesn't -feel- wrong..."
Matt blushes as well, shruging in her embrace. "Welll...in feory, we're supposed ta be this sterling example fer all. Bending one o' the tenets into a pretzel doesn't exactly look good on the resume." He gives her anoter quick kiss, promising more. "Still, fook 'em. We arent' even /close/ ta breaking the Litany." Unable to resist any longer, he kisses her again, this time moving away from her lips after a while to kiss the smooth skin of her throat.
Bernie kisses back more confidently than before, arms tightening gently about him again. She shivers a little as her moves to her throat, lifting her chin a little, almost unconsciously, to bare it further. "...good," she breathes in a soft, belated reply, the word forming a little puff of fog in the chill air.
Matt is beginning to realize just exactly how outstandingly *cold* it is, up here on this rock, in the dark, on a clear night. Not that holding tight to Bernie doesn't help, but...Even the British know when to get indoors. "Brr," he says, echoing the shiver that just ran up his spine. "Either that's you, or we should take this back to Bohemian Decadence." Trust a philodox to cut to the practical, probably at the perfectly wrong moment.
Bernie takes a slow, deep breath, and nods. "...could be both," she points out with a half-smile, and removes one hand to her pocket, pulling her glasses back out and setting them back in place. "...I say next time, we bring a blanket or somethin' sim'lar..." A slight blush, "um... guess that's assuming y'want there t' be...?"
"...a next time?" Matt asks with a smile. "Sure, assuming Megan doesn't 'and me my intestines when she gets wind o' this." He doesn't say 'if.' He knows better.
Bernie bites her bottom lip lightly with a nervous little smile, glancing sidelong into the darkness, and almost whispers, "...I'm pretty sure this doesn' count as stayin' away from th' Fianna cubs... I think Steven's liable t'... throw me through a plate glass window..." She leans in quickly and kisses him again, soft and fast. "...think th' Decadence'll be crowded, t'night?"
Matt catches her before she can dart back away, and givs her another good kiss, not one of those quick pecks. "Oi sure 'ope not," he finally says. "Don't worry about the plate glass. If yer lucky, it'll be on the ground floor." Grin.
Bernie giggles, "Memo to myself, avoid bein' in a skyscraper with Steven..." She gets a rather mischevious look, and adds, "...anyway if I'm gonna be defenestrated we might as well make it worth it..." For a fraction of a second, she looks a little shocked at herself, but steals another kiss anyway, a bit longer than the others she's initiated. Breaking it, she glances down a moment, and then slips her arms from around him, hand sliding down his shoulder and arm to intertwine her fingers with his as she shifts a little, starting to stand. "C'mon... wouldn' wanna hafta explain why we got frostbite, come t' think of it..." She pushes that curl back again, and grins at him.
Matt thinks a minute, then tries to answer in Bone Gnawer. "True 'dat." He lets her push up against him, then stands himself, working a little warmth into his joints.
[Back at the Farmhouse]
Matt hops up onto the porch, opening the front door quietly, in case someone new is crashing on the couch.
Inside the house, Matt moves slowly and quietly, if not gracefully.
Bernie follows as quietly as she can, which isn't too bad, having been honed in a small house with a large family. She's certainly no more graceful, though, and eyes the stairs with slight suspicion. Mm... did any of those squeak? Must remember to note whether and which, tomorrow...
Matt eyes the stairs as well, and shrugs, heading up.
Matt winces as the floor creaks, but since a brute squad does not burst from every door, he continues up.
Bernie reaches over as they approach the attic stairs, and gently touches the back of Matt's hand, giving him a little smile.
Matt glances over his shoulder, returning the smile.
"So," Matt asks, sotto voce and smiling, "did you learn everyfing you wanted to?" He thinks. "About the Umbra?" he amends. He sits on his bed, offering her a spot next to him on the mattress.
Bernie glances around the room, taking in the current state of the surroundings as she reaches up to ease the elastic band from her ponytail, shaking the curls free and letting the band pop around her wrist for safe-keeping. She grins at Matt and quietly picks her way over to sit beside him, with a nod. "...maybe not -ev'rythin' I wanna," she replies softly, "...but I think a good amount for one day, yeah. I'd like t' learn more still, though, I think... 's nice. An' int'restin', also."
Matt appraises. "Mmm. Oi fink oi like it better down," he says. "We may get ta the Vicar's 'ventually. No rush on, eh? He kicks off his boots and pulls his t-shirt over his head; down to just trousers. He lays back onto the bed, scooting over to make room for Bernie if she'd like.
"Yeah?" Bernie asks, taking a curl in hand and appraising it herself, "'licia wantsta straighten it..." She trails off there, watching the disrobing process, and quietly agrees, "...no rush..." Pulling her gaze away, she leans down and undoes her own boots, setting them neatly together by the side of the bed, and removes the jacket, flannel, and her belt, though the tank-top and now somewhat dangerously loose jeans remain. It shouldn't matter, since she won't be walking about in her sleep, one hopes. Thus prepares, she lies down somewhat gingerly in the offered space.
Matt puts an arm around her, preparing for sleep. "Whot, yer tony?" he asks. "Hmm. That moight look nice." Normally he'd be in boxers, but as these got shredded when he shifted, he settles for undoing the top button. Better.
Bernie nods a little, starting to get a bit sleepy in the warmth. "Mmhmm... I'm 'fraid it might not suit me, but, I dunno, think I might let 'er try anyhow..." She ends up snuggling in a little as she gets comfortable, and emits a soft but unmistakably happy little sigh. After a few moments, though, she murmurs, worried, "...Matt? Y'don't think someone's gonna get unpleasant 'bout us sharin' the bed like this, would they?"
Matt shifts with Bernie until they're both comfortable, and notes "Oi'd /'ope/ most of 'em'd realize we're not 'mating' if we're asleep...though we don't /'ave/ ta sleep straight off..."
Bernie giggles, muffling it against him a bit, and then nods. "Good point, that... botha 'em, act'ly, come t' think of it..."
Matt smiles. He gently draws his hnd along her jawline, tilting her head up to his again. He lets his hand slide over her neck and down her side, coming to rest on her hip. He's finally getting warm after the bone-cold of the Boulder, as she can probably tell where her tank top rests against his chest.
Bernie smiles back, eyes bright despite the hour, and slips her glasses off, hooking them on the frame of the bed. Can't really sleep in them anyway, after all... Stretching her neck a little, she kisses him, slowly letting one of her hands creep onto the warmth of his chest.
Matt returns the kiss, closing his eyes. Opening his mouth, he slowly explores with his tongue. Unlike most boys, he doesn't come on blender-style, but more tentatively, enjoying the electric-shockish feeling when their tongues meet. His hand unconsciously clenches a little on her hip, giving her a squeeze, and (oh dear) a bulge forms beneath his zipper.
Bernie's lips part to allow his tongue entrance with only slight hesitation, and she returns the kiss even more tentatively, seeming quite unsure at first. That first touch makes her breath catch, though, and apparently alleviates a bit of the uncertainty. Her hand slides a little more firmly across the muscles of his upper torso, and she presses in just a fraction more. Her own eyes closed, she's currently oblivious to any... incidental effects.
Matt deals with the Dilema of the Arm on the Bottom, folding it reasonably comfortably underneath himself as he turns a bit more into Bernie. His other hand moves up again, running on the cotton over her ribs, brushing her breast, and resting on her neck, cupping an supporting her head, gently. He also appears to be ignoring the side-effects of the kiss, as best he can.
Bernie continues to get more comfortable with the kiss, gradually getting a bit bolder with it, though she still follows his lead. Eventually, running short of breath, she pulls away, inhaling and exhaling once slowly before opening her eyes again and murmuring, quite sincerely, "...wow." The blush she'd been fighting so well all night wins a round, and a very quiet laugh escapes as she ducks her head slightly.
Matt also takes the opportunity to stock up on oxygen. "Cor..." he sighs. A glance towards the foot of the bed turns his cheeks crimson, and he returns his gaze to Bernie. "yes, wow," he agrees. He gently caresses her jawline with the thumb of the hand couching her head. He doesn't get the laugh, though. "Whot?"
"'s just..." the Ragabash gives him a little smile, touched with wonder, "...girl could get t' like that..." She lets the arm across his chest slip a bit further, and gives him a squeeze as she curiously follows his earlier glance. The blush goes back up a shade or two, and she presses her lips lightly together, supressing a traitorous little grin.
Matt tries to suppress a little laugh of his own. "So could Oi, I guess. Hey, embarrasing question time. Oi'll take one, then you get one, hmm?" He pauses, choosing his phrasing. "Did you 'ave someone special afore ye came ta St Claire?"
Bernie shakes her head slightly, and almost certainly would be fighting the curl about now, if it weren't that it would mean moving her arm from its resting place. "No," she confesses softly, "...t' be honest... wasn't really that int'rested in th' whole thing 'ntil.." She glances at him, lips quirking into a little half-smile, "...recently. ...'bout you?"
Matt almost-shrugs. "Nah. Spent most of my bird dodging the Wicked Witch, an' not entirely successfully."--his eyes dart to his nearest shoulder--"There /were/ a couple of oceans, but 'twas mostly on a dare from Blackjack...and well, they didn't want ta be me duchess or anyfing. Your turn."
Bernie nods, biting her lower lip gently as she considers. "...dunno if this's th' sorta thing my sister's magazines would say not t' ask, but, oh well, guess maybe I shoulda read 'em..." A quick, fleeting smile, then, "so... um... why? I mean, there's lotsa people 'round here more... I dunno... lotsa things, than me..." She pauses briefly, and adds, with a nervous grin, "...an' no fair suddenly realisin' there's no good reason an' kickin' me onta th' floor, either."
Matt frowns a pondering frown for a moment. "Oi dunno...followin' the moon at first, Oi guess but...well, You're smart, you're funny..." he smiles down at her. "D'you 'ave any idea how 'ard it is to find someone who can even follow yer jokes, let alone laugh at 'em when yer from the wrong side o' th' pond?" He has only one hand to talk with, so he occasionally lets go to gesture, but it is quickly returned. "Sure, there are 'ostesses at work that are a bit of all roight, but dumb as a bag o' hair, Oi can't even talk to 'em. And Alicia...well, Oi can't say she 'asn't got the looks, but we...we're on different wavelengfs, Oi fink." He trails off.
Bernie thinks about that a few moments, and then nods. "A'ight," she replies, still sounding thoughtful, and then half-smiles, "...fair 'nough. An' act'ly, I -do- sorta have 'n idea 'f how hard it is, on th' joke front. I got useta half my jokes goin' over people's heads long time ago, an' mostly they grew up in th' same place 's me, too. So." She gives a little shrug, and a quick grin, shifting a bit to get comfortable again.
Matt kisses her forhead for reassurance, then gives her a lingering kiss on the lips. "Besoides, you've got these eyes.... 'Mine eye 'ath play'd the painter and 'ath stell'd/ Thy beauty's form in table of my 'eart;/ My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,/ And perspective it is best painter's art.'"
Bernie colours a little, a pleased smile spreading across her lips, and gives him another close squeeze. "Mmm... th' Bard, yes?" She leans up to give him quick, soft kiss in return.
Matt smiles, nodding. "Fading benefits of National education. Oi can even remember parts of Julius Caesar: 'Yon Cassius 'as a lean an' 'ungry look...'" Surprise, even the Fianna might have a couple of brain cells to rub together....
Bernie grins, and props her chin lightly on the 'dox's shoulder. "...'he thinks too much; such men are dangerous'," she replies rather teasingly. Brain cells are no surprise, but Shakespeare's an unexpected bonus. "...pers'nally, I'm all for that brand of dang'rous, though."
Matt shrugs with his eyebrows. His arms are happily occupied. "Finkin' too much? Aye, better than not enough. Sad ta say, but Blackjack's probably knockin' around a flowery wifout me. No one ta tell 'im 'No, Blackjack. Bad idea.'"
"Didn't get any sense t' rub off on 'im, huh?" Bernie rests her head down again, closing her eyes for the moment. "Too bad... what kinda trouble was he prone t' suggest, then?"
Matt does the eybrow thing again. "Well, he only set fire to /one/ train car..." He pauses to shift a little to restore a little circulation to the Bottom Arm. His other hand goes back to her waist, inside the waistband in that interesting top/pants interface.
Bernie snickers a little at the thought -- well, she -is- a raggie, after all. "Mm, malicious vandalism, huh? ...hope it at least wasn't in use at th' time? Or, failin' that, not by people?" She moves the arm that's across him up to his shoulder, where it gradually slides down his arm until, when it reaches his elbow, she slips it back about him, where it started.
"An abandoned coal car," Matt explains. "Blackjack 'ad a molotov cocktail 'e'd mad, an' wanted ta see if it'd work. so we waited fer the trainspotters ta fook off, and lit it. Musta 'ad some coal dust in it or somefin'. Went up straight away. By which time we were 'alfway back to the Thames." He sighs contentedly at her embrace, reciprocating with his free hand on her hip.
Bernie giggles, turning her face in to press lightly against him... there's still sleeping people to consider, after all. "Damn, that musta been impressive t' see... worst I ever blew up was th' staff room toilets..." A slight smirk, "...though, coolest lookin' was th' sodium in th' drinkin' fountain..."
Matt gets a sudden erotic kick out of Bernie giggling into his neck. He closes his eyes and rides out the little electric chill, she'll probably notice the goosebumps though. When he recovers, he replies. "well, we' roamed over 'alf of Souf Britain. Even made it to Manchester for a rave once."
"Yeah? Wha's it like? Clarence an' Lola useta go t' raves sometimes, but I never went with..." She thinks about it a moment, adding, "'d anythin' int'restin' happen, with or without mid-t'-high explosives?" On a sudden impulse, she tilts her head and plants a light kiss on the side of his neck.
Matt gives her an appreciative low growl. "Careful, ducks. You'll start somefin'..." His hand slips under the tank top, but stays on her hip. Just warm flesh against flesh. "Anyway, yeah...the music's top, the drugs're...there. Tom was more inta the scene than me an' Blackjack. 'swhere Blackjack dared me ta...y'know."
Bernie grins at the first comment and, in a show of mock-defiance, kisses there again. "...nyah," she taunts softly, and goes back to listening to the answer. After considering a few seconds, she shakes her head slightly, "act'ly... no, dunno... 'cept that it involved girls." She sounds a bit apologetic about that. A thought strikes her, "...so was Tom not so great on the sense front either, then?"
Matt pauses before answering to kiss her fiercely, squeezing her tight and holding the kiss until they both need to breathe. Tease me, willya. He then calmly resumes his former position and tries to answer the question. "/Two/ girls, specific'lly. Both wacked on X, so Oi wouldn't call it a fair test of anyfing but stamina...no, Tom wasn't stupid, just too inta 'avin' a lark, an'all. His pope was worse'n mine."
Bernie recovers from the kiss, with a slightly silly smile. Now, was that supposed to be a punishment, or an incentive...? She listens, snuggling in to regain her comfortable position, and comments, "Well, maybe he's kept Blackjack out in th' world terrorizin' th' populace, then..." A slight, considering pause, and she quirks a brow, continuing lightly, "...s'pose your stamina rose suitably t' th' occasion?" Yes, she blushes slightly.
"Oi suppose," he replies dryly. "'ard ta disappoint a twist on X. Once Oi figured out what the fook oi was doin', it went more...smoothly." He isn't bragging, just explaining where he got what little knowledge of girls he has.
Bernie nods a bit, with a thoughtful, "Hmm.." and then stifles another giggle. There's the distinct impression that she's about to say something, but apparently thinks better of it, and just gives another quiet squeeze, instead.
Matt rolls his eyes. "Uh-oh. Oi saw a ragabash fought pass by there. Whot was it, hmm?"
"Oh, nuttin'," Bernie claims innocently, "jus' a silly thought... talkin' 'bout disappointin' people and figurin' out what th' fuck one's doin', started wond'rin' if, y'know, I was doin' a'ight on that front, and thought, mm, oughta get onea those 'How'm I doin'? Call 555-whatever' signs..." She grins a bit and adds, "...guess you got it properly sussed, though... not that -I'm- an authority, but 'licia was impressed..." She glances sidelong at him, setting the sole of her foot against the top of one of his.
Matt raises an eyebrow. "*Alicia* was impressed? You've been makin' out wif Alicia?" He is sure he hasn't got this one right.
Bernie giggles, "No!" A slight pause, and in a bad but recognizable Dr. Frank N. Furter voice, "...why, d'you think I should?" Dropping back to her normal, if hushed, tones, she continues, "No, only joking. Not with -me-. ...'ve only ever kissed you."
Matt still isn't quite up to speed. "So..." the fingers of his free hand start to trace lazy circles on her ribs, below her breasts. "you were talkin' ta Alicia 'bout kissing me?" He still seems incredulous, maybe now for different reasons. "When?"
"Wellll..." Bernie starts almost sheepishly, blushing a little, "...-me- talkin' t' -her- 'bout it... kinda did that yesterday... but th' rel'vant one was more -she- was talkin' t' -me- 'bout it, like two days b'fore that?" She reddens a bit more, starting to say something else, and then changing her mind with a bit of an embarrassed shrug.
Matt does some mental calculations, actually tapping her side wth his free hand as he counts backward. "Before we actually...?"
"I -think-," Bernie comments, "that d'pends who y' mean by 'we'..." She sighs, evidentally deciding the full explanation is going to be neccesary to keep things straight. "So, a'ight. Few days ago, I d'cided, y'know, 'licia said a while ago she wan'ed t' mess with my hair, what th' hell, maybe I'll go let 'er. So she wan'ed t' know why. An', okay," she admits, "I kinda... was feelin' ignored. Never bothered me b'fore, but... I dunno... half th' world's gotta crush on 'licia, least if y' listen t' her tell it." She flushes; this is not the easiest thing for a lifelong tomboy to confess. "...anyway. So. She wan'ed t' know who I had a crush on, 'cause she was convinced that was it." Another pause, thinking. "...maybe yeah indirectly. But anyway I wasn't sayin' anythin'. Anyway, so, yeah, we got distracted with other stuff an' it got to late t' do th' hair thing, so we put that off. Then, few days later, came by 'gain, an' so we were talkin', 'cause," now she turns -quite- red, "this -female- kin I know claimed t' have th' hots f'r me... um. So anyhow. She brought it back t' th' crush thing, an' said if it -was- you, then if you liked me I was lucky 'cause you were a really good kisser." ...and that's almost as red as anyone's seen her yet. She stops, whether because she's actually done or because she needs some oxygen isn't completely clear.
Matt grins. "You sure?" He leans forward again, but waits for Bernie.
Bernie blinks, derailed. "...um... 'bout which?"
"'Bout me an' kissing..." he teases.
Bernie ducks her head slightly, blushing again, though much less badly, "Oh! ...y' mean in -my- oh so educated opinion?" She tilts her head back up toward his and continues, a bit shyly, "...no complaints here... nah, not gonna go 'cuse her of false advertising..."
Matt smiles. "An' Oi won't accuse 'er of /not/ advertising..." he mutters. More fishing for another kiss than a compliment, but oh well. "Almost as bad as Rina, our 'licia. Far short in the obnoxiousness department, though. Oi take it you 'eard about...um, dancing under the full moon?"
Bernie nods, and flushes, the reason made evident as she confesses, "..Rina's th' one who claimed t' be, uh... int'rested in me. I mean, okay, she's pretty an' all, but she's kinda, um...." a beat, "female," she finishes flatly, and then grins. "...an' yeah... I heard... though, I dunno, I, uh, don' think it woulda come up 'cept, well, y'know, like I said..." She leans up and steals another kiss, letting it linger a moment before she pulls back.
Matt enjoys the press of her lips on his, expanding it into the press of body to body. He is probably going to have a hard time going through his day as if nothing were different.
It's fair to expect that Bernie may have similar difficulty, but they'll just have to cope, of course... for now, she gives him another squeeze, pressing close against him, with another soft, happy sigh, and, tempting fate, another gentle kiss just below the line of his jaw.
Matt's body finally seems to note that it is late morning and thatit hasn't eaten since the previous evening. A low, gurgling rumble vibrates through his belly, forcing him to raise his head and look down at it, appraisingly. "Hmm. Maybe Oi should fix us some eggs."
Bernie mms, moving her shoulders in a slight stretch, and nods. "I could eat," she decides, and traces her fingertips idly down the bare skin of Matt's chest, watching as they go. "There's prolly still leftovers, too, bacon an' macachee an' all. An' cookies. This place needs a cookie jar. Breakfast?"
Matt smiles. "Shower," he intones. "/then/ breakfast."
Bernie laughs, and nods, "....yeah, a'ight, revised plan." She gingerly and a tad reluctantly extricates herself, turning to sit on the edge of the bed again, feet dangling off the edge, and pushing her arms up in a big stretch, stifling a bit of yawn. "Mmm. Right."
Smiling mischieviously, Matt puts on a burst of speed, yanks up her top to expose her stomach and zerberts her mercilessly. "Phbbbbt! 'at's for makin' me take myself seriously for a second, back there."
Bernie squeaks in surprise, and half falls backward, bursting into laughter. This time is -isn't- quiet, it's a wonder it doesn't wake half the house. "Noooo! Not that! Anything but that!" she protests, trying to be quieter again, and struggling weakly. Recovering, she wraps her arms protectively about her midsection and sits up straight again. "Hmph, an' I though' 'doxen were -s'posta- take 'emselves serious!" she complains, "-I- oughta be punishin' -you-!" It's not very convincing coupled with the grin, though.
Matt looms over her, placing one more kiss on her lips before his shower, which he trails down one of her arms, onto her belly, and finishes with a flourish on her belly button, which gets the slightest, devilish flick of the tongue. A promise for next time. Then he pushes up and fishes for a shirt to wear when he is clean again, grinning from ear to ear.
Bernie returns the kiss ethusiastically, with a very soft giggle as it moves along and she grows slightly, if pleasantly, nervous again. Drawing her legs up crosslegged, she watches him in his hunt for a while, grinning just as widely.
Matt finally finds a semi-clean (in the clean-pile, I've only worn it once, clean) t-shirt extolling the virtues of Swedish coffee, and throws it over a scarred shoulder. "Y'wanta meet me down stairs, or join me in the hot water?" he asks, blithely.
Bernie actually seems to really consider that at first; she opens her mouth a second, and then snaps it shut again, shaking her head with a little smile. "Tempting," she replies a bit dryly, "...but maybe later.... act'ly I think I'll wait here an' use it after you're done, 'kay?"
Matt nods, rubbing his head. "Doesn't really take me that long, anyway." He flashes another smile her way (Really, he is a charmer isn't he?) and pads barefooted down the stairs. moments later, water runs, and splashing noises can be heard, accompanied by a nearly (but not quite) on-key rendition of 'Lola' by the Kinks.
Bernie grins, and shakes her head a little at the singing floating upward. "...wonder how she an' Penny're doin'," she murmurs to herself as she gathers her clothing together, and glances almost guiltily toward the bed. Right. Remember Lola. And Mom, for that matter... She wraps the day's clothes up in her jacket, and catches herself singing along half under her breath. Just about perfectly on-key, but who can tell at that volume?
Under ten minutes later, Matt pads back into the room, glistening a little with water from the shower, his hair almost dark because it's wet. It must not have occurred to him to change in the bathroom, because he's still carrying his shirt, now augmented by his pants. He stops up short just inside the door of the room, cutting himself off in mid hum with the realization that he's wearing only a towel.
Bernie stops short a few feet away, holding her bundle, as she'd been heading for that door. She takes a quick look from top to toe, and smiles, gaining about one level of pink as she takes a step aside. "Y'look clean," she remarks approvingly, and starts toward the door again, to pass by him.
Matt is a little relieved as Bernie heads downstairs, as shortly he'll probably have a place to hang that towel. He blushes at her, for all his talk about not minding nudity, he isn't in any hurry to show off, apparently. "Oi /feel/ clean," he manages. "Told'ja it wouldn't take me long."
Bernie pauses, just past him, and grins mischeviously at the reply, shifting her bundle to one arm as she turns and reaches out with the other, hand dropping lightly atop his head. She draws the fingertips quick and light down the back of his head, neck, and back, until they hit the towel, and then nods, declaring, "Check it out... you -do- feel clean." She grins at him again, rebalancing her own clothes, and starts on her way again.
Matt blushes more deeply and turns, shaking his head. He pulls on the shirt, pants and his boots, finishing off with a belt and his Da's jacket. Just about good as new.
The water starts up again quite swiftly, and runs for a while. If Bernie sings in the shower, it isn't audible from the attic, at least. It's somewhere between 15 and 20 minutes before she re-enters the attic, properly clothed, hair towel-dried but still damp, hanging longer and shinier than it does when dry. And apparently, wet, even the recalcitrant curls behave. She plops the few items she took with her and isn't wearing into her duffel, squidged in a corner, and swings her backpack up onto her shoulder, humming cheerfully.
Matt looks up from the bed, spiking his hair in a thouroughly non-scientific manner: putting gel in his hair and spiking it up with his fingers. Good gel. "Breakfast?" he asks?
"Breakfast," Bernie confirms, with a nod, wandering over to lean against the bedframe and watch the begelling, "def'nitely."
Matt completes the bespiking, and escorts Bernie downstairs. There had better be breakfast ingredients present in the kitchen; it's too close to the full moon to be pretty otherwise...
Matt is propelled by his stomach toward the refrigerator like guided munitions homing in on the reddish laser dot. He rummages, finding eggs, onions, breakfast steaks, mushrooms and green peppers. "Steak and eggs?" he offers.
"Works for me," Bernie replies, getting the frying pan and associated implements into readiness.
Matt makes room for Bernie next to him as he cooks, making excuses to bump hips every once in a while. Peppers and mushrooms are chopped, onion is sliced, then fried; eggs are scrambled (with pepper and mushroom--and cheese! Matt dives back into the fridge), and breakfast steaks are prepared. End result? Two plates with tasty eggs and steaks heaped with onions.
Bernie mostly watches, since it isn't really a two-person job, but watches quite closely, periodically cutting a veggie or handing over some already chopped. As the food nears doneness, she gets the plates and silverware out for the completion, and opens the fridge as the plates are heaped. "Whatcha wan' t' drink?"
Matt wrinkles his forehead. "Juice?" he guesses.
Bernie nods, taking a look, "We got... apple juice, orange juice, something red, an' cow juice. Got a fav'rite?"
Matt winces as he says this: "Surproise me."
Bernie nods casually and scoops three of the bottles up, bumping the door closed with her hip as she heads to the table and sets them done. She heads for the cabinet to grab glasses, passing behind Matt to do so. As she does, without breaking stride first, she suddenly crouches slightly and thrusts her hands up under the hem of his jacket, reaching in to thoroughly tickle his sides.
Matt isn't so ticklish across his back, but his ribcage is horribly fair game. The air in his lungs whooshes out ahead of a child-like giggle, and Matt drops the plates the remaining fraction of an inch to the table with a loud CLUNK! so thathe can clutch his elbows to his sides and hopefully pin Bernie's fingers down. "Stop, stop stopstop, oh please..." he pleads.
Bernie laughs, tickling furiously until her hands are caught, and she squeaks a little in surprise. "Ooh, good move! Keep that in mind..." She lets her hands go limp in surrender and straightens up again, "... but you -were- s'prised, right?" The girl is definitely grinning back there.
Matt hesitates, gasping, in case this is merely a ruse before the tickling assault begins anew, but he replies, "Cor. Too roight Oi's surprised. Coulda cracked a plate!" He cranes his head around so she can see his grin, and catches the gleam in her eye as well. "So...juice wif this repast? Or do we die of thirst?"
Bernie nods, satisfied, and continues to the cupboard. "Juice indeed," she declares, pulling down a couple glasses and taking them back to the bottles. Each gets a thin layer of apple juice, then quite a bit of orange juice, and then some of... well, it's red, whatever it is. Lord knows how the concoction will taste, but it -looks- pretty, vaguely reminiscent of a tequila sunrise. Bernie pops the juices back into the fridge, and sets a cup beside each plate. "There. Ta da!"
Matt eyes the juice dubiously, but totally confident of the food. A measure of trust, a sip. His forehead furrows. "Interesting," he coughs. He takes another drink and swallows, with far less difficulty. Then he attacks the breakfast steaks with gusto.
Bernie grins, slipping into the chair beside the other cub and taking a fairsized swallow of the drink to test. Well, she knows two out of three ingredients, and the third's unlikely to be anything unpleasant, given where it was. "....really strong Hawai'ian punch," she decides, and takes another sip. "...Cranberry woulda been better. Oh well." She starts in on the eggs, eagerly. "Mmph!" A pause as she politely chews and swallows, "...d'licious."
Matt nods graciously. "and good juice, too. We make a pretty good team, tribe and auspice not wifstanding."
Bernie grins, and teases, "Well, Shadow Claws seemed t' think you'd make a jus' fine Gnawer..." She eats some of her steak before continuing, "...an' you're right, I think, we do."
Matt ducks his head at the compliment. "Well, then Oi guess Oi'd better get off me arse and get you trained, so ye can Rite when Oi do, then. Oi'll need the 'elp."
"Good think I'm a fas' learner, then," Bernie comments cheerfully, "...an' they're procrastinatin'." She continues to decimate her meal, and suggests, "s'pose, if we're not too tired, we could go practice stuff after we finish this...?"
Matt nods, firmly. Definitely up for more of Bernie's company. Training, of course. Combat, etc. He grins like a maniac through the rest of breakfast.