Bernie is sprawled on the couch, comparing her somewhat dogeared photocopies of the fountain's original state to the photographs recently developed by the magic of Wal-Mart's one hour photo processing. The little paper folder in which they're returned lies atop her backpack, on the floor beside the sofa, holding the half of the roll that isn't relevant to the task at hand.

Matt's key turns in the lock, and shortly thereafter, the deadbolt. He eases into the room, dropping his rucksack onto the floor and kicking off his shoes. Seeing Bernie, he smiles widely. "Hey, Books. Got the photos back, did ye? Fair dinkum. Oi'll joost change and be right out." He heads past the couch, giving her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder as he heads for the bedroom.

Bernie looks up, flashing Matt a grin as he passes by. "Yup! They came out pretty decent, too..." She watches him disappear into the bedroom, and then looks back to her papers. "How's things?" she calls after him, "anythin' new an' excitin' t' relate?"

Matt doesn't bother to close the door as he strips out of work clothes, and pulls on a pair of jeans and a SCCU sweatshirt.

Bernie glances up again as no answer is forthcoming, and watches the process for a few seconds before she catches herself and forces her attention back to the papers and photographs again. "...'s too bad y' di'n' go t' th' Farm with me yesterday," she remarks after another moment or two, "it was really funny."

"Why?" Matt asks, re-entering the living room and pulling on his sweatshirt in the process. "Or do Oi really want to know."

Bernie shifts position on the couch, pulling up to lean on the back of the sofa as she addresses the other cub, watching him avidly. "D'you know Sepdet?" she queries.

Matt nods. "Strider. Met 'er once. Noice girl."

Bernie nods in return, the grin spreading across her face again. "Yeah," she confirms, sounding rather impressed with her. "Well, so, 'kay, I was in th' Barn talkin' t' Yi an' 'licia, an' Sepdet came in an' we all said hi an' stuff, 'cause she wan'ed t' talk t' Yi a bit. An' 'licia left for a while, an' Lucca came by, an' Cindy, an' then, Steven walks in..." She adjusts her glasses slightly, and continues, "So, he wanders in an' starts sayin' mean things t' Sepdet, an' they were arguin', kinda, an' he told her t' kiss his ass, so she, like, -did-, with a fireball! I think I burst somethin' tryin' not t' laugh..."

Matt raises an eyebrow. "She did whot? I mean, from whot Oi know of Steven, he'd argue wif a post, but. She frew...a fireball."

Bernie giggles, and nods. "It was -so- cool... I mean, she didn' 'zactly -throw- it, she just stared at his ass, an' then fwoom! Balla fire eatin' th' back of his pants." She shakes her head, "...so then he did th' stop-drop-an'-roll thing t' put it out, an' 'course we all tried not t' crack up 'cause it's a full moon an' he's scary at -my- moon, but then, I dunno his name but I guess he's th' one you were callin' th' Righ, 'cause that's what Steven called him too, he waslked in, an' told 'em they were actin' like cubs, an' so I wan'ed t' say I resent that remark, 'cept I decided it prolly would end up ebin' painfully not worth it, an' he left." She grins again, "....so THEN, Steven an' Sepdet talked 'bout it s'more, an' he told her she at least owed him a paira pants, so she said fine and walked out, and then opened th' door again and threw him -her- pants..." Bernie dissolves into giggles again, remembering.

Matt perks. "Echen-rhya was at the farmhouse?" He sighs. "Why am Oi never aroung when the Righ is handy?"

Bernie considers that maybe it's one of those things where you just had to be there, and sighs slightly herself, "...well, he was only there a li'l bit anyhow. An' I dunno that he was in the greatest mood, anyhow, but." She shrugs slightly.

Matt hops over the back of the couch to sit, sockfooted, next to Bernie. "Sorry, Books. It /is/ funny, I'm just...I'm tired of waiting."

Bernie nods, turning to slip down into a normal seated position beside him. "Could track him down an' ask, maybe?" she suggests sympathetically.

Matt shakes his head. "No, no. Patience is a virtue, eh? And the creed of Wisdom: I shall be calm, I shall be prudent..."

"Yeah, well, there's such a thing as bein' -too- virtuous, y'know," Bernie replies, and smiles a bit. "So what's the rest of the creed of Wisdom, then?"

Matt looks up, as all such information is stored above one's head. "Um...Oi shall be temp'rate, Oi shall be merciful, Oi shall fink before oi act, an' listen before Oi fink."

Bernie considers, and nods. "Sounds good. Any others?" She glances beside her, and gathers the photographs into a neat pile in her hands.

Matt raises an eyebrow, in mock condescension. "Oi've 'ad nuffin' better ta do in the last eight monfs but memorize all this and the Cycles of the Fianna. Yes, Oi remember the Creeds of Honor an' Wisdom." He sticks his tongue out briefly.

Bernie snickers, teasing, "Oh, Fianna have 'cycles', huh? That explains a lot...." She shakes her head, grinning. "I was serious though, this's th' first I've heard 'bout these creed things."

"Cycles of /stories/, ye froot. There's the stories of Finn Mac Cumahl, and of Oisin. 'istories of my people. well, almost my people. Any road, the Creeds are little fings to 'elp ye remember...memtos, or whatever ye call 'em. Honor goes: I shall be respectful, I shall be loyal, I shall be just, I shall live by my word, and I shall accept all fair challenges."

"Ohhhh," the ragabash replies, feigning the dawn of comprehension, "cycles of -stories-, I see." She grins. "So they're like whatsits, mnemonics? Huh. Are there just th' two, or are they for, like, everythin'?"

Matt closes his eyes, picturing the Creed of Glory. "I shall be valrous, I shall be dependable, I shall be...um. generous, I shall be generous, I shall protect the weak, I shall slay the Wrym."

Bernie watches Matt as he recites, and considers that one as well. "...'s that one for? Sounds kinda like somethin' a Paladin'd declare."

Matt smiles. "'at's for Glory. One creed fer each, so ye can remember."

"But just th' three, then? Honor, wisdom, an' glory? No, like, intelligence or gettin' on with people or anythin' else?" Bernie picks up the photo folder and swiftly slips her stack of pictures in on top of those that remain inside, the opening turned toward herself and quickly closed as she moves it back down to the backpack, setting it partly inside, now.

Matt smiles. "Wisdom. I shall be calm, and temp'rate. That's gettin' on wif people. Intellingence? Books, yer reward fer bein' smart is livin' a little longer than the stupid ones."

Bernie grins, "Nuh uh... so far I think that's th' reward fer common sense... but I guess that answers my question, 's jus' th' three. 'kay... guess I got s'more things t' mem'rize now." She leans over a little, resting her head lightly on his shoulder. "So, what else don' I know yet that I oughta, oh informative one?"

Matt shrugs. "You fink you might need ta know the Red Book of Hyrddych? How Pwyll befriended the king of Annwyn? I doub't you'll need ta know the Creeds. Most Bone Gnawers don't stand on that mooch formality, including Elan-rhya. More practical info seems ta be the Gnawer concentration." He yawns a little and stretches. "Besoides, dat's the first steps down the path of wisdowm, there; knowin' what you don't need ta know, and what ye /do/ need ta know and don't."

Bernie shrugs slightly herself, "...well, 's hard t' know whatcha do or don't need t' know until y'know what there is t' know that you dunno... right?" Say -that- five times fast. "Anyway, you know int'restin' things."

"As do you, Books," Matt chuckes. "As do you. We learn different stuff an' pack toegevver so we don't 'ave ta try to remember it all."

Matt yawns again, a huge, near-lupus thing, complete with a curl in his tongue. "Hmm. Must be tired." Breathily, he adds "Yer more than welcome ta stay..."

Bernie smiles a little, and pretends to consider. "...oddly enough, I can't think of anythin' I'd rather go do," she replies, and pushes off the couch to stand, leaving her backpack on the floor as she offers her hand.

Matt takes the offered hand and follows to the bedroom. "One of these days, oi've got ta consider puttin' an actual bed in 'ere..."

"Luxury!" Bernie exclaims dismissively, flashing him a quick grin. "...well, all right, I s'pose that'd be a 'ceptable indulgence. Maybe. But of course you'd hafta be sure t' come up with some suitable mortificaiton of th' flesh in penitence. Fastin', maybe."

Matt pulls his sweatshirt off again and slps under blankets, jeans and all. "Oi only said Oi'd /consider/ it...."

Bernie removes her boots and belt before sliding into the nest of blankets as well, moving in beside him and claiming his shoulder as a pillow. "Oh, well in that case, s'pose it's okay 'f you only -consider- fastin', too. Seems fair 'nough." She stifles a yawn of her own -- contagious, those things -- and shifts slightly, getting comfortable before softly adding, "...g'night."