Situated in the center of a large, open meadow is a clustering of six trees, a flower bed, a few benches, and a plywood wall barricade. The area where the fountain was, and presumably the new fountain will be, is currently enclosed by high plywood walls. There is a door in one of the walls, firmly locked with a stout-looking padlock. The walls enclose much of the flagstone area, now, only leaving a little around the edges of the old courtyard. Scraggly hedges line one side of the courtyard, just behind some mostly graffiti-free benches and a chain link fence. Cars on the nearby street have an excellent view of the park as do any residents of the tall buildings which line the waterfront. The park is almost constantly devoid of people as its reputation for being one of the most violent and dangerous places in the city spreads.
The murky waters of the Columbia River flow swiftly along the east side of the park. Bracketing the park to the west is First Street and the city of St. Claire. A meadow surrounds the small glade.
All doorways in the front part of the house lead to the front hallway, a J-shaped area with the short tail starting at the stairs, the front door hitting the bottom curve, the doorless opening to the living room halfway up the long side, and the also doorless opening to the kitchen and dining room at the very top. The hall has a simple wooden floor, and decorated with a generic print of soft-colored flowers hanging on the wall to the right of the front door, and a tall table sitting under the print which serves as a place to toss keys. A closet under the stairs serves as a place to hang coats or to toss shoes.
The doorless opening to the living room is halfway up the side of the hall's J, and the word cozy might spring to mind when looking into is, as it seems to radiate comforting vibrations. A long couch sits against the south wall beneath a large bay window curtained only by sheers that manages to obscure the view in but only filters the day's light. A variety of out-of-date magazines are strewn atop a low coffee table; more neatly presented are the plethora of books filling the small bookshelves which line the eastern wall. Three chairs sit about the room, focused inward, to allow group conversations. Large floor pillows are stacked in one corner of the room, except one, which lies carelessly in the middle of the floor, apparently left out the last time it was used.
An opening in the northern end of the hallway allows access to the kitchen and dining room at the back of the house, while carpeted stairs twist up at the other end of the hall, leading to the second floor. A door at the base of the J lets out to the front porch.
A lathe-turned wooden railing runs the length of the porch save where the steps are, well-worn with use. To the right of the stairs, a wide swing is suspended from the overhang which shelters this area; to the left, a small table is the centerpiece for several chairs pulled around it, all of which face out to the front yard and the fields and trees beyond. The biting cold of winter is tempered somewhat by the sheltering of the roof, but it is still enough to make the porch an inhospitable place to tarry for long. Even the low shrubs seem to avoid it, their leafless woody stems closed in tight upon themselves.
An aging screen door newly refurbished stands between the heavy inner door of the house and the outside air. Four steps lead down to the lane, a number of pots with small flower seedling carefully arranged alongside them.
Bernie wanders into the park, apparently on her way back from shopping, judging from the couple of plastic Wal-Mart bags dangling from one hand. Approaching the fountain area, she gives off the vague impression of being on a mission, though it dissipates as she sees Kaz. She grins, and keeps quietly walking, for the moment.
Elan, drawn by his packmates thoughts, also converges on the fountain, looking unusually serious.
Kaz, by contrast, is rather upbeat. She waves her comic book at Bernie, and then sobers slightly as she spies Elan. "Hey, boss!" she calls.
Elan whistles a bit when he sees the pair. "Heya, Kazamataz, Bernie."
Kaz rolls her comic book up and sticks it in a pocket. "So what're you lookin' all storm cloudy for?"
"Fuckin' Banecruncher," is all the youth says, and spits.
Kaz sobers even further. "Yeah. He's in it up to his eyes. I mean, Veil shit and all. 'm worried about him." And uncomfortable talking about him, slightly, apparently. She doesn't seem to know about anything involving him tearing Ellie lengthwise, though.
Elan says "Been thinkin', and lookin' for you, actually."
Kaz shakes off some of that discomfort, managing a very faint grin. She's still perched on the back of the bench. "Well, it ain't like I hide regularly. 'Sup?"
Elan goes over to the bench. "I couldn't just do this ova the Link, y'know?"
Kaz turns to look at him, and manages not to fall over mostly by dint of sliding down into a more normal seat. "This what?" She sounds... A little nervous, suddenly.
Elan sits down. "I think you need to Challenge. For Rank. We need another Fostern out here and it should be you."
Bernie pauses, about to join the others on the bench. "...Should I leave?" she queries, glancing between her elders, "...I mean, this private?"
It's a good thing Kaz slid into a seat just a moment ago, or she definitely -would- have fallen off of her perch, given the quality of the double take Elan receives. She stares at him for quite a long time, comparatively. She has to cough once to get the words out, so dry is her throat suddenly. "Wait. You sure we're talking /me/ here? Th' metis with th' mouth who ain't got clue one in th' leadership department? You sure you don't mean, like, Yi or somethin'?"
Elan says "Yi's a good candidate down the road. You're there now, and past it. You're a damn good Gnawer."
Kaz shakes her head at Bernie. "Not s'far's I'm concerned. I mean, unless you mind hearin' me havin' my brain explode. Boss, what the hell you talkin' about, past it?"
Bernie slides in at the end of the bench, silently, and listens.
Elan says "You're past due to be Fostern, in my opinion. You been doing a damn good job of being a Galliard these past almost two years here, teaching cubs, bein' our ears and eyes and mouth, runnin' messages to the woods and back, going on the raids and revels and shit. You due, girl."
Kaz shakes her head stubbornly, but there's something in her eyes that's considering it. It's the stubbornness that wins out, though, as she mutters at the ground, "I'll think about it."
Elan says "As your Elder, your packmate, your alpha and your friend... do it."
Kaz snorts at Elan. She sounds a little amused, and far less negative about the whole thing than just a moment before. "I'll -think- about it, boss. Honest t'God, I ain't gonna just lay it in a corner and let it lie around t'die."
Bernie grins, pulling her legs up indian style on the bench. "'f y' want," she addresses Elan, "I c'n make sure t' r'mind her when I see her..." She flashes the grin to Kaz.
Elan grins as well. "Do that," he says to the cub. "OK, Kaz, just think, OK? I'm just sayin' is all."
Kaz nods, the wheels obviously turning. "Yeah," she says, almost absently, "Thinkin', it's my middle name."
Elan gets up. "Well, I'll leave you then." He grins. "See ya."
Kaz gives her Alpha a mock-salute. "See y'round, boss."
Bernie nods, giving Elan a quick mock-salute. "Yessir," she replies cheerfully, "will do. Later!"
Bernie blinks, looking at Kaz, and breaks up. "Whoa!" she exclaims between giggles, "synchronized saluting!"
Kaz was just going to grin at Bernie, but given as the cub has started the giggling, Kaz can't but start laughing herself. She doesn't manage to say anything, just... laughs.
Elan laughs. "Good, good. Jimmy would be proud. Tip top military shape!"
"Be all that y'can be," Bernie declares, recovering down to just a light snicker, and shakes her head. "...who's Jimmy, though?"
Elan's smile turns a bit sad as he goes to leave. "I'll tell ya later. Or Kaz can relay stuff."
Eventually, Kaz stops, though she's a bit red faced from it all. "Shakes the Can Before Giving. Elan's old Alpha. You want, I can tell more...?"
Elan says "Do, please."
Bernie nods, turning her attention back to the Galliard. "Sure. 's th' story, mornin' glory?" she queries, setting her bags down on the ground now that it seems she might be here a bit longer.
Elan steps out of the glade and into the surrounding meadow.
"Well." Kaz settles back a bit on the bench, and, perhaps, helps prove Elan's point. "He was a Ragabash, see. Jimmy Wilson. Slim Jim, One Eyed Jim, Shakes the Can Before Giving... And he was a Ragabash in charge of a whole damn family of Gnawers. He wasn't no Uncle, but you wouldn't've known it, from alla the people he helped out. Him and Elan and Hank and BJ and Piddles, they was all Gnawers, all inna pack together. An' people like Seirian, she was a Fianna, and Coda and Dante, they was Gaians, and Bailey, he was a Walker, they joined Cavall, t'be family alongside the Gnawers. He eventually had to get outta town, after some've his best friends turned t'the Wyrm an' his wife died, but while he was here, he did more for th' place than most of us ever will. An' here's Elan's point -- Jimmy, he was an Alpha allright, but shit, he was a Ragabash, so, y'know, when people took that high'n mighty tone with him, which they did pretty often, since he was, after all, a Bone Gnawer, he'd be real sincere, an' salute 'em. But if you were -payin' attention-... You'd know there wasn't nothin' sincere about it."
Bernie grins, broadly, at the end of that, and nods. "Kinda like when I met Steven. Only prolly better. Soun's like someone I'd wanna meet..." She considers other parts of the story, thoughtfully. "...do people turn t' th' Wyrm a lot?"
Kaz's grin dies. "No. Not really. Th' Dancers, they're a whole tribe've former Garou, but most've 'em are the descendents of a dead tribe. I c'ld tell you 'bout -that-, too, if y'wanted."
Bernie nods, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms loosely about them. "Yeah," she replies, "please? 's somethin' I oughta know, right? ...feel like there's still a metric shitload of stuff I oughta know, an' don't yet."
Kaz nods. "Awright." Hopping off the bench, she scrawls, in the dirt, a glyph. It looks a bit like a spiral, but it's sort of... Off kilter. A little crazed. "That there," she explains, letting Bernie have a good look at it before she erases it again, "Is the glyph of the Black Spriral Dancers. Before they were the Black Spiral Dancers, the Betrayers, the doomed folks, before the United States existed and before the Glass Walkers, as a tribe, existed, there were the White Howlers."
Bernie leans over to look closely at the glyph, memorizing it. "So b'fore th' eighteenth cent'ry, then. Lots b'fore, or jus' barely?"
"Lots. This was in England, see. Knowin' you, I'd bet you know all about Hadrian's Wall, an' stuff?" Kaz seems to assume she does, and goes on, "See, our boys, the White Howlers, they was on the side of good and right and bravery and shit, which is to say, they were Picts. Th' Wyrm, it was on the side of the Romans, not that the Romans knew this."
Bernie nods, sitting up a bit again, though she still leans in to listen. "Got it," she replies quietly.
"So, if y'know history, y'know this shit went on a long time. Th' very definition of a stalemate. But, eventually, the Wyrm got tired of pussyfootin' around, an' they snuck over Hadrian's Wall, and they awakened places've power, Wyrm places, north of the Wall. Fucked the Picts over but good, started tainten' 'em from within an' from without. Eventually, the Howlers, they realized this, and they got quite a mad on." Kaz pauses, and sighs. "Too much of one."
"You c'n get too mad 'bout that kinda thing?" the cub queries, genuinely a bit startled to hear that. "'Your enemy's anger is only a weapon against him' kinda thing?"
The metis nods. "Kinda like Star Wars. Use the Force, Luuuuke. But anger, hatred, it can be a way into the Wyrm, if you /marinate/ in it. And the Howlers, they did, but they didn't realize they were doin' it. 'Cause, y'know, Garou can get kinda over confident, and the Howlers, boy howdy did -they- get over confident. They swore they'd destroy the Wyrm, and they set out to do just that." Kaz's speech patterns change, fairly significantly; it would seem this is a part that she's memorized. "They traveled up into the very strongholds of the Wyrm. One pack went to raid the strongest of these, a pit that led deep into the bowels of the earth. Of those who went in, only one returned to tell the tale. The pack was a large and powerful one, and though several died as they fought their way down to the lowest levels, they still numbered near a dozen when they reached it. There they found a well of inky blackness with a taint so palpable that even those without the gift to detect such things were repulsed to be in its presence. Tentacles reached from the blackness, and though the Garou fought, though they had slain many creatures to reach this level, they were not strong enough. One by one they were dragged into this blackness, and when they emerged again they were... changed."
Bernie shivers slightly, a combination of the cooling night and the story, and pulls her legs in a little closer to her chest. "...they went to the Dark Side?" she asks, continuing the Star Wars metaphor so prevelant in people's teachings to her. "...like Darth Vader an' all? Or did they change inta... actual other -things-?"
Kaz's speech patterns continue to be somewhat different. "The latter, but also the former. They had become entirely one with the Wyrm. These creatures were twisted, deformed, their minds shattered, their thoughts lost. All but one, who managed to escape not by fighting, but by running. And these Garou, those who were once his packmates and now were not, announced that they were no longer White Howlers, but Black Spiral Dancers." She pauses, and looks down. "There are no Garou today who lay claim to the name White Howler." She raises her head again, looking at Bernie. "For the Black Spiral Dancers had determined that none of their tribe should remain alive, not unless they too became twisted to the Wyrm's end. And so they killed. Any White Howlers who would not give over themselves willingly -- and some did, is the greatest of shame -- were killed." She suddenly reverts to her own speech patterns, the look in her eye apparently indicating that this is something of a relief. "An' the Dancers, an' the Wyrm, they look for ways to bring more of the Garou over t'their side. There's always openings -- if you're too pissed, if you're jealous, if you think, maybe, that dammit, if they just did it /right/..." She trails off. "I've heard tell of eco-terrorist Gaians goin' to the Wyrm, because no one in human or Garou society pays enough -attention-. But there's also Garou that get -forced- to walk the Spiral, and --" She breaks off. "They ain't real sane. No Dancer is, but the ones that get forced, they're... They're hard to talk about."
Bernie nods again, slowly, assimilating this. "How do they do that? I mean... do they kidnap 'rou an' drag 'em off?" Her brow furrows, considering the implications of that. "Do they force people often? ...an' can th' victims get, like... deprogrammed, 'f y' get 'em back? Like with a cult?"
Kaz shakes her head. "Not often. They like it a lot better if the Garou themselves do the work for them, if the Garou themselves come willingly." Kaz's jaw sets. "I known some good folk that just... Went off the deep end. And no." She sounds fairly grim, now. "Once you've walked the Spiral, you're gone. You're not the same person you were, you're /of the Wyrm/. It ain't the same as gettin' Tainted, I've gotten Tainted lots and I'm just fine. Cleansin', it's a nice Rite to have around. This is /Corruption/, through and through, complete and utter. And there ain't no goin' back."
Another nod, as the ragabash chews her lower lip a little. "Got it," she repeats, after a bit. "...anything else you c'n think of, ofa th' topa your head, that I oughta know, an' might not yet?"
Kaz blinks. "About Dancers, or in general?"
"Yes," Bernie replies promptly, her grin slipping back into its usual position of prominence for a moment.
Kaz's own grin rises, although it's not as warm as it is usually. Apparently, talking about Dancers affects her. "Mmmp. I gotta assume someone's droned at you 'bout Stuff?"
Bernie leans back against the bench a bit, out of story mode. "Yeah, Joey gave me Stuff 101, pretty much... though I wouldn' mind hearin' your perspective on it, 'f ya felt like it." The grin broadens, "...we 'most hadda Jerry Springer episode with out Magic 8-balls. Mine said it wasn' th' daddy of his, an' his said it was..."
Kaz shrugs. "Stuff. Stuff ain't stuff. Stuff ain't things most folks'd think is worth nothin'. Stuff's just ... Things. Things -you- think is worth somethin'. Things you think one've us'd like. Stuff's... You gotta -know- someone, to give 'em Stuff. That's part've what's so good about it."
Chaser walks into the park from the direction of Bridge Street, making her way across the open muddied and dead grass toward the area that once held a fountain.
Bernie nods a bit. "...like Max givin' me th' ball, an' th' etch-a-sketch I found I gave her, th' gold one, right? Joey said that was right, anyhow." She trails off as she catches the Get's movement in a corner of her eye, and glances over toward her.
Kaz nods. "Right. An' all it mostly means is, you give a shit, but some folks don't seem to get that." She raises her head to look for the movement, and then gives Chaser a wave.
Chaser gives the Gnawer a curt nod, and scans the park for any other presences; none found, she walks toward them, hands jammed into jacket pockets.
Bernie waves as well, nodding in response to Kaz. "Cool," she replies, a bit quieter as company arrive. "Hey," she adds, slightly louder, a greeting to Chaser. "'sup?"
Chaser glances to Bernie, and offers what might almost be termed a smile: a slight little twist of the lips. "Any trouble?" she asks.
Kaz shakes her head, not that she was asked. "Ain't noticed any."
Bernie shakes her head, giving the Get a smile in return. "Nope. All proper an' accoun'ed for, seems like." She stretches a little, glancing upward. "...Either of y'all know what time it is, by th' way?" I gotta get a watch or somethin'.
Kaz looks upward. "Looks t'be about, I dunno, 9're so? Around there, anyways. Why?"
Chaser nods, her shoulders relaxing a little. "Little after nine." She looks out toward the bridge, for a moment, studying the area of the park that meets its supports.
Bernie wrinkles her nose a bit. "I wan'ed t' go by th' Farmhouse 'fore I went t' sleep, figure some shit out with 'licia. We were plannin' on hangin' out t'marra, I think."
Kaz glances reflexively toward Signe's place. "Could borrow Rach's van again," she offers, doubtfully.
Chaser purses her lips slightly, still looking out toward the bridge. "I was gonna head out there, m'self." She looks back over to them. "I could only take one, though.
Kaz jerks her head at Bernie. "You take her. I'll grab the van and catch y'all over there -- I left m'flute in the attic."
Chaser gives Bernie a sidelong glance. "Y'not scareda goin' fast, are ya?"
Bernie eyes Chaser a second before replying, "Y'never rode with Kaz, huh?" She grins over at the Galliard, and then adds more seriously, "...nah, long as your in controlla it an' all. 's a'ight."
Kaz doesn't even try and look wounded. It just wouldn't fly, especially not with the wholehearted grin that's rising on her face.
Chaser nods curtly, and glances to Kaz. "Seeya there." Then she heads for the street again, belting and zipping her jacket on the way.
Kaz nods, and heads in the other direction, at a jog.
Bernie follows Chaser, zipping up her own jacket as she does, and snags her bags as she trots quickly behind.
[Farmhouse: Hallway and Living Room]
Roger finishes up with the Garou biology lecture and looks at Glissa a bit confused. "I'm not short." is all he says.
Glissa is slumped in an armchair talking to the pair of Garou and clutching a gnarled walking stick against her cheek like a staff.
Chaser bangs on the door before coming in--yanking off her gloves and leading two more.
Glissa blinks at Roger. "Oh. I beg your pardon. The metis I was introduced to was rather on the small side."
There was, before Chaser banged on the door, the noise of a well driven motorcycle and a badly driven van.
Glissa levitates nicely at the loud knock and peers around furtively.
Roger thinks on this a moment and nods. "Seppy perhaps." He turns and looks towards the newly arrived. "Greetings."
Bernie is one of the two trailing through the doorway, unzipping her jacket as she does so. "...Heya," she greets Roger and Glissa, with a curious look toward the latter. "...'licia 'round?"
Roger nods to Bernie and points towards the back. "She went out on the porch last I noticed."
Kaz stuffs her hat onto her head as she arrives, and gives Roger a slight grin, before blinking at Glissa. "Hey?"
Chaser gives Glissa a measuring look.
Glissa rises to her feet with the support of her prop, evidently a little on the creaky side of forty. "Good evening," she says cordially, hands clenching the wood like a talisman. "I, ah, I was just going."
Roger raises his hand towards the Kin. "No, you were sticking around for a moment... Please."
Kaz says, encouragingly, "Naw. Don't gotta do that. Not on our account. We're just here to raid the fridge. Well, and find friends. And me, I gotta get my flute. So I'm Kaz -- who're you?"
Roger's thinly-veiled command makes the woman stiffen slightly, but at Kaz's rather ordinary speech she musters a strained smile. "Glissa Nicholson, sometime professor of classics and eccentric cat lady."
Roger looks to Kaz and says flatly, "There may be a problem. Something else to stack on to our list of problems already existing."
Kaz is sticking somewhat near the door, and sounding disarmingly ramblish. "Pleased, 'm sure. Do you wanna longer introduction from me, or's the short one good 'nuff?" She blinks and turns her attention to Roger. "Whassat?"
Bernie flashes Roger a bright grin. "Thanks," she replies, shifting her plastic bags from one hand to the other, and looks to the new woman, chiming in, "Hi. I'm Bernie, niceta meetcha." She quiets as Roger speaks again, and waits to hear the answer.
Roger quits grinning about now. "A bunch of students in the woods reported they found a body... human-like, but not human. If it's anything, it could be Garou. If it's Garou, it's in Crinos... which means metis-born."
Glissa looks at Kaz uncomprehendingly for a moment, giving Bernie a distracted "Hi". Then a thought strikes her and she tells Kaz, "Oh, ah, if you like. I'm not one of you, though. Or, I mean--" she adds hastily, hanging on again to the inanimate wood like it's her only friend in the room, "I'm just an in-law, so to speak."
Given as Roger is speaking of crinii and Garou in front of Glissa, Kaz seems to have no issues. "You're Kin," she interprets, before staring at Roger. "Hold that thought," she tells the woman, and rubs at her temples. Maybe she has a headache. "Aw, fuck," she eventually says. "Where's this bein' kept, then?"
Bernie blinks at the revelation, glancing over at Kaz, and seems about to ask something. She doesn't, though, mouth closing again as she leans against the side of the couch and listens.
Chaser lifts a shoulder. "No need on /our/ account," she says dryly. "Who're you?"
Chaser merely glances to Roger at the first mention of trouble. The hard eyes focus and a scowl comes to her face. "Oh," she says flatly. "Fabulous."
Glissa plays meek and quiet really well, now, letting Roger garble it for her.
Roger answers for Glissa the glib. "She is Glissa Nicholson... widow of Michael Powers, father of two children."
Kaz waits patiently for Roger to answer -her- question.
Chaser's eyes narrow slightly, and she leans back against an unoccupied spot of wall--propping her boot against it carelessly. She offers the woman what might pass for a smile: a cynical quirking-upward at one side of her mouth. Then that fades away, and she glances to Roger again. Her jaw tightens.
Glissa forces herself not to take a step backwards away from Chaser, or so the telltale shift of a foot would suggest. Further, she ventures a brief but direct glance at the woman, or at least at her face, avoiding studying the bloodstains too closely. But the scrutiny doesn't last more than a second or so before the human's gaze drops hurridly to the floor.
Alicia heads back in, looking a bit frustrated, offering a shrug of her shoulders. Upon seeing others, she pauses, then lets out a sigh of relief.
Bernie brightens slightly as Alicia enters, despite the possible problems. She flashes a grin to the other cub, waving the hand not currently holding her Wal-Mart bags.
Roger sighs a bit. "I hate to ruin all of your nights like this, but hey... life is pain." He then turns to Kaz, "I don't have a clue where it's being kept, the rumor is courtesy of our kin here."
Alicia waves back to Bernie, making a bee line over to her. "So, I guess you heard eh? I was ganna tell the big dogs, but they were like, doing some big ass shit up in the Caern an well, I was easily avoided." She smiles, hugging her best friend.
"Oh, well, ok." The Gnawer slides along the wall, so as to be closer to Glissa, and tells her, "So hey, I'm Kaz, like I said. I'm also Ears, if you're feelin' in the mood f'more descriptive names. I'm a Bone Gnawer, an' I'm a Galliard, which means I find and spread news, so your news, it's makin' my ears perk up. So. D'you know anythin' more?"
Glissa clears her throat. "Well," she says, "the rumors at the university are many and varied, and I don't even know for sure if it's a Garou skeleton and not just a hoax. They said 'Bigfoot'. It's either in one of the science labs or the anthropology department."
Glissa continues, "Some older man, possibly a professor, apparently took a few anthro grad students into the woods on a hunting expedition and came back with 'proof' of Bigfoot. I've heard skull, or even a baby's skeleton, or a whole body. No two rumors the same. As I was telling Roger and Alicia, even if it turns out to be a hoax, I fear you may have some unwelcome visitors out here trying to find more bones."
Bernie hugs Alicia back quietly as she listens to the explanation, and makes a face. "...well," she comments, "guess th' anthro department'd be a good place t' start lookin', then?"
Alicia drapes an arm around Bernie's shoulders, letting out a bit of a sigh. "Too bad I'm stuck here, I could prolly get in there an do some recon work or whatever. Man, I feel useless."
Kaz files that away, almost visibly. "Right. Cool." She smiles, quite sincerely, at the woman, and tells her, "So thanks. If you find more out, tell us? We'd be real grateful. Meanwhile, I'll tell one've th' no moons, see if we can get some pokin' an' pryin' action goin', over the University, an'... See what we can do about th' anthropology folks. Or if we even need t'do anythin'." She shoots a look at Bernie. "One've the no moons that's got Blur, sadly."
Glissa nods. "I will do some poking about. I have a reputation as a mad woman with a taste for the paranormal, so it will not seem strange, my asking questions. But, um... no offense?" She raises an eyebrow pleadingly.
"Damn," Bernie murmurs, but adds, "...might wanna ask one who c'n open shit, too. I know Yi c'n do both..."
Alicia oh's a bit. "Can't Joey do that too?" She asks, perking up at Bernie's reply.
Chaser merely watches, listens for the most part--then clears her throat. "Which building?"
Kaz tilts her head slightly. "No offense to which?"
"Open shit?" Bernie asks the other cub, and nods. "Yeah, he's th' one who taught me an' all. I dunno 'f he c'n do Blur though. I gotta learn that. R'mind me t' find Li'l Tim, 'kay? He said he'd show me a while back."
Glissa opens and shuts her mouth, and shakes her head at Chaser. "I'm not actually sure where the 'lab' is, and the rumors were so garbled I'm only guessing because most of them said 'anthropology students' or 'science majors'."
Chaser glances to Bernie, suddenly, eyes narrowing. "You a no-moon?"
Kaz regards Glissa calmly, evidently still listening.
Glissa then musters her courage and addresses Kaz as quietly as possible, as if somehow that will protect her from being sued for libel (or worse). "Be careful wandering around the university. I have had some experiences with your people's version of 'subtle' which would have caused serious trouble, had I not already known what you were. Especially with the latest veil-breach on the evening news, you know."
"Oh, well, fuck yeah." Profane, Kaz may be, but she doesn't take offense. "Most've us're like bulldozers on acid, but the no moons, they're the scouts and stuff, the ones that're /trained/ to sneak. So theoretically, none've them'd break everythin' in sight." She pauses briefly. "Or try and eat a police car."
Chaser nods curtly, without taking her eyes from Bernie. "Theoretically," she agrees dryly.
Bernie glances over to Chaser, blinking slightly. "Yeah," she replies, "...I told ya that las' time I saw ya, when y'were over here an' lookin' at 'licia's drawin's, r'member?"
Glissa grimaces. "Well, honestly, my husband was a no-moon, and he had some trouble in that department. But you know best, I'm sure."
Chaser frowns--and then nods, apparently remembering. "Yeah. Got it." She glances over to Glissa, then. "So, we just know it's in some lab somewhere, prolly in archaeology?"
Alicia glances idly over to Chaser, then takes a step back slightly as she speaks in their direction.
Kaz can't help but smile. "Like I said. Theoretically. I mean, theoretically, I'm good at stories, given my auspice, but mostly, I stick to flute playin' an' spreadin' news. Sometimes, we ain't good at all've our auspice duties. But we -try-, at least."
Glissa ticks off the possibilities on her fingers. "Archaeology or anthropology or -possibly- bio sciences. I'm sorry I can't be more specific; I just started hearing about this today. My advice is to eavesdrop on the hallway and kitchenette gossip until you get a good idea which to go for. I'll try all three and let you know what I've heard in a few days."
Roger looks about a moment. "We have any kin students?"
Alicia clears her throat. "Tom... My boyfriend.."
Roger nods to this, "What major?"
"Medicine.." She replies softly. "Um... he kinda studies it all. He mentioned Anthro a few times."
Chaser glances over to Alicia, sharply. "Maybe you oughta ask him to look into then, eh?"
Alicia nods her head once more, swallowing. "I will. Tomorrow." She says softly.
Kaz lets the conversation flow, listening, as she leans against the wall.
Glissa exhales slowly. "Well. Um." She looks between them. "It was nice meeting you all," she says with desperate politeness.
Alicia glances over to Glissa and brightens up a bit, clearing her throat. "Oh! Yah, it was nice meeting you too Glissa. Stop by again eh? I make a mean Lasagna." She nudges Bernie.
Kaz levers herself off the wall and nods at the woman. "You ever run int' somethin' you can't handle, we're around. An' you just want tea'n cookies, we do that, too, sometimes. Or lasagna, too. An' like I said -- thanks."
Bernie nods once, emphatically. "She does," she confirms. "An' yeah, niceta meetcha, thanks, an' et cet'ra."
Glissa blinks and seems to be considering this offer for traps. "Oh, why thank you." She gives Kaz a rather sharp, almost withering look, then starts for the door.
Kaz says, defensively, "Whad I say?"
Alicia blinks a bit and rubs her neck, looking oddly confused. "Um..."
Chaser straightens from her slouch against the wall, watching Kaz.
Glissa's shoulders hunch, but her only reply is a shake of the head before slipping out.
Bernie arches a brow. "...weird," she declares, shaking her head lightly. "...maybe she got scared by a teacake sometime."
Alicia raises a brow and glances to Kaz. "Um... should we be ok with.. Chaser... following her?"
Kaz considers this thoughtfully. "I think I'll go make it a summit," she decides. "If y'all don't mind?"
Roger nods. "Good night... I'll be heading off as well. I need to find some family members who are being scarce and knock some sense into them."
Alicia thinks for a moment, then grins to Bernie. "Cool! Farm House is ours tonight."
Kaz snorts softly, and heads out the door.
"'s a'ight with me," Bernie addresses her elder, adding, "...let me know 'fore you go back t' town, though? I gotta thing or two t' do there this evening..."
Kaz says, "Sure thing, Bern. I ain't stickin' around too long, I don't think."
Bernie grins at Alicia, and nods. "...we should have a wild kegger," she suggests, and stretches a bit. "So, other'n th' obvious, 'sup? We still on t' do stuff t'marra?"
Alicia nods her head firmly. "Yup, Sure am. I'm going to leave a quick message on Tom's answering machine, telling him to stop by." She offers a bright smile to her friend, then can't help but wiggle in excitement. "Its going to be so fun."
Bernie half-smiles at her friend's excitement, and nods. "It'll be cool. I'll come by in th' mornin' an' we c'n get cookin', or whatever. Knnow what you're gonna do, yet?"
Alicia grins at her. "Lasagna, of course. And maybe... Mmmm... salad of course. I'm stuck on dessert."
"Choc'late somethin'," Bernie replies firmly. "Can't go wrong with choc'late."
Bernie finishes chatting with Alicia after a while, and after things are sorted out, gives her hug and wanders back out the way she came.
Bernie wanders out the front door, looking somewhat surprised to find the porch occupied. "Sorry t' int'rupt," she begins, "...where'd Kaz go?"
Glissa sighs. "Well. Yes. You know... this place." She waves a hand at the farmhouse. "Before your people started keeping their youngsters here, my husband and I had a silly idea. The land of your caern was up for sale, and I do have some modest resources. So I bought it. A lot of it, anyway. And Michael built a house for us, just within the wood's edge. And all your cubs were free to come stay. Your wounded. Anyone who needed to park a car, so they wouldn't be noticed casually walking into the woods from town. Only nobody came. And after he died, well, I found out that others of your people were... dangerous. That humans and Garou do not belong together."
Glissa starts again at the door opening and shakes her head in a mute 'don't know'.
Chaser takes a careful breath, and glances over her shoulder--giving Bernie a look and a gesture that clearly convey a dismissal, or at least the desire for privacy. When she looks back to Glissa, she offers, simply, "I'm sorry. In that case it's... understandable, that you might not want to get involved. But I hope if you ever need anything..."
Bernie nods, mutely, and steps backwards, slipping back in through the front door in an only slightly exaggerated manner.
The front door reopens, and Bernie steps back in, backwards this time, shutting the portal behind -- or in front of? -- her. Turning, she does a double take, and grins. "Kaz! There y'are."
Kaz, a Coke in hand, looks faintly embarrassed. "Yeah, I went around. You ready t'bug out?"
Bernie nods, hefting the Wal-Mart bags to adjust the strap of her backpack across her shoulder. "Yeah, think so. Thanks, by th' way."
Kaz blinks. "F'what?"
"Well, first off for tellin' me shit earlier, but at th' moment, for waitin' for me an' all," the cub replies, and then grins, adding, "Oh, an' I hereby remind you t' think 'bout it."
Kaz looks, briefly, blank, and then she snorts. "I am. Um. C'n I confess somethin' t'you?"
Bernie nods. After all, if she said no she'd just end up wondering. "Shoot," she replies, leaning against the couch again. "Confess your sins, my child..." Flippant as the comment is, she looks genuinely interested.
Kaz shrugs. "Well. You know. Elan talks t'me, I tell him hell no, and then I get here, and Glissa's talkin' stuff out, an' I just waltz in and take over from Roger -- and basically, I actually see what the fuck Elan's talkin' about." She almost looks embarrassed. "But -- Honest t'God, I never -used- to be like this..."
Bernie grins, and shrugs back. "-I- never useta turn inta a nine foot slavering monster," she points out. "Ev'ryone changes, right? No pun intended."
Chaser comes back in, her expression decidedly more thoughtful. "Sorry about that," she mutters to Bernie, seeming distracted.
Kaz starts, slowly, grinning. "Yeah, but fuckit, personal growth shouldn't go an' sneak /up/ on you." She'd sound outraged, if she weren't grinning so much. "Damn, this's weird."
"What is?" Chaser asks, taking up her former spot by the door.
Bernie laughs. "Well, y'get some free time, y'c'n take it out back t' th' Barn an' kick its ass, teach it t' 'nnounce itself nex' time..." She looks over to Chaser, and shrugs, still grinning, "No prob. Not everywhere needs a cub for dec'ration alla time."
Kaz explains to Chaser, "Elan went an' told me I should Challenge, an' now I'm startin' to agree with him." She just chortles quietly at Bernie, shaking her head. "Yeah, like a puppy."
"Woof," Bernie replies cheerfully, perching lightly on the arm of the sofa, since they don't seem to be leaving immediately after all.
Chaser's mouth quirks upward at one corner. "'Zat so?" She refrains from comment, studying the Gnawer briefly through narrowed eyes, as if to measure her readiness by some kind of visible sign.
Kaz's grin fades, and she studies the Get right back, although she's not being directly challenging. "'Zat's so. Although I'm still gettin' used to the idea. Personal epiphanies take time, y'know?"
Chaser's smile widens a fraction; she shoves both hands into her pockets and nods. "Yah. I know how that is."
"...well, technic'ly, bein' sudden's gen'rally onea th' definin' attributes of your typical ephipany..." Bernie murmurs, mostly to herself.
Kaz mutters, "/Assimilating/ them takes longer, though," and then shakes her head. "So. Anyway. I'm buggin'. Any've those Ragabash cubs that want rides, feel free to follow."
Bernie hops up to her feet again, sliding the hand not occupied with bags into her jacket pocket. "Oh, well, that's a'ight then, I s'pose," she replies, with another quick grin, and starts to follow Kaz. "Later!" she shoots back over her shoulder to Chaser, "...thanks for th' ride an' all."
Chaser nods, offering the girl a quick, wry half-smile. "Don't let her getcha killed or nothin'. And look me up about that shit you wanna work on."
Bernie pauses, startled, and turns to looks back to the Get. "I'll try not ta... but, I guess now I'm forgettin'... which shit that I wanna work on?"
Chaser lifts her chin a little. "Gifts."
Kaz seems to disapprove of this thought not at all.
"Oh!" Bernie exclaims, making the connection to the earlier conversation, and grins. "Cool! Thanks. That'd kick; yeah, I'll try t' track ya down sometime, then."
Chaser echoes that smile a little, and nods. "Seeya," she offers to them both.
Kaz says, cheerfully, "Yeah. See y'round th' Park." This seems to be her version of farewell, as she shrugs her coat on and heads for the door.
Bernie just waves her free hand, this time, and follows Kaz out.