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 A variety of out-of-date magazines are strewn atop a low coffee table; more neatly presented are the plethora of books filling the small bookshelves which line the eastern wall.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.
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.
From his position on the couch, Cameron stares angrily at Alicia and jabs a finger towards her. "Stop. Now." His cheeks are slightly flushed now as he controls his face better. He stares at her, eyes locked on to hers until she responds satisfactorily.
Alicia meets his gaze evenly, calmly, as taught by her Elders in most staredown contests. Keeping her arms crossed, her head tips down, the dark eyes narrowing into thin slits.
Cameron's eyes narrow, too, as he realizes she's taking this as a challenge. "Don't talk about her like that. Alright?" he adds, quietly. His eyes search hers, rather than penetrating, looking for a response.
"Oh? Am I talking about her, or am I talking about /you/?" She replies calmly as she continues to hold his gaze, lifting her lip up a bit to reveal the whites of her teeth. "Whats wrong Cameron, can't take a joke? Its a bitch being on the receiving end for a change, eh?"
Matt opens the front door casually, tucking the butt of his cigarette into his pocket, as he comes off the porch. He holds the door open for Bernie to follow him in; both of them look mischievous, as if they are, or were, up to something.
Bernie follows closely behind, taking the door from Matt with a soft "Thanks," as she closes it. Turning back to the room, she notices the tension in the room, and glances sidelong at the Philodox, arching a brow slightly.
The new arrivals are ignored. Cameron snorts at Alicia and stands up, pulling himself to his full height then stalking slowly towards her with an easy grace. Hands slide into jacket-pockets in a smoothly controlled movement. "That's a /change/? Could've fooled me. What makes this different to you?" For a moment, his eyes take on an amused expression, but no less intense for it. "Jealous?"
The girl doesn't even flinch at his words, a soft rumble echoing in her throat. "Jealous? Of what? That I'm not wasting my time with a boy like you, when I'm seeing a 'man' like Tom?" Ouch. "Please, Cameron, I'm barely jealous of you and your escapades with the new blonde eye candy thats hanging around here. I just find it funny, how one second your fawning over her, then you turn around, grab my ass, and kiss me, even if it is in teasing, or what not. Notice, how you always make the first move, so again, I go back to my prior statement. What will last longer, your heart, or, your pants." She stares dead evenly into the Theurge's eyes, arms still crossed, but tensed, ready to spring if necessary.
How amusing to Helen is what she finds when she steps into the farmhouse. The young Black Fury's eyes narrow and she says, "Lover's quarrel? I better not be here. Fur's gonna start to fly." She lifts her chin and tilts her head, dark hair falling into her pale blue eyes. "Little Sister, you really make me laugh sometimes."
Matt sighs, aborting his trip toward the kitchen. The smile on his face disappears, leaving him with an impassive mask, a work face. He glances around the room and notes that yes, he is the ranking Philodox here. He steps over to the side of the entryway from the hall to the living room, leaning against the jamb. He hooks his thumbs in his pockets, but does not step into the middle of the Staredown.
The cheap shot doesn't even register, but her slight to Summer, does. And how. Cameron's face tightens and his eyes blaze with fury. "I /said/ don't /talk/ about her like that." he growls. "Drag my name through the mud all you want, but you fucking leave her alone. What is your fucking problem?" he hisses.
Alicia pokes him square in the chest as her hand blazes out in a quick blur. "Oh just shut up Cameron, your so dense, that even if I told you a billion times, you still wouldn't get it." With that, she snorts and turns around, heading inside the kitchen. "Hey Matt, Bernie, Helen-Rhya." Each name is said sharply, with annoyance, venting out a bit of her anger.
Cameron sniffs, and stares angrily at her back, before spinning neatly on one foot to stalk back to the couch, and the can of coke on the floor next to it.
Bernie shakes her head slightly and heads kitchenward again. "Evenin', happy campers," she replies rather dryly, without having completely lost the grin she came in with. It has, however, dimmed to a mere half-smile. "See y'all're still gettin' on like a house afire. Fiery, d'structive, 'n' dang'rous..."
Cameron mutters, "If she could keep her mind out of the gutter..." as he flops onto the couch.
In the back of the house, "If he can keep his hands off my ass." Comes the Galliard's reply as she opens up the fridge, rummaging for a coke.
Matt shakes his head, and crosses to a chair at an angle to Cameron. His jacket goes over the back of said chair, and he gives a look and nod to Bernie, indicating the Galliard in the kitchen. Steepling his hands together and maintaining his serious mien, he quietly asks "Care ta tell me whot yer on about?"
In the front rooms, Cameron tilts his head back and takes a few mouthfuls of Coke before replying the 'senior' cub. He throws a wry look Alicia's direction. "She slandered me and my kin and decided she had the right to stare me down when I asked her to quit it." He shrugs dismissively, and takes another mouthful of Coke. That's all there is to it.
Bernie passes behind Alicia and leans casually against the side of the fridge, peering over the open door at her. "So =now= 'sup?" she asks, quietly curious. "Thoughtch'all were gettin' on 'gain."
In the front rooms, Matt appears to take this at face value. "'Slander', hmm? Whot did she say, exactly?" He leans forward a little, keeping this as much between himself and Cameron as possible.
Alicia snorts. "I didn't slander anyone." She says, popping the tab of her can, glancing over her shoulder to the two Fianna. A sharp breath passes through her lips, eyes rolling a bit. Glancing over to Bernie, she shrugs her shoulders some, shaking her head. "Nothing is up. I never should of came here. Good lord, some people just can't relax without popping their top and turning everything into a big deal." Staring at the soda, she places it down on the sink instead, then heads out the back door.
In the front rooms, Cameron mutters, "Only that she thought our 'casual sex' was kinda of romantic." as she leaves. He eyes Matt. "And /no/, we /haven't/." he adds, forestalling any questions in that direction.
In the front rooms, Helen looks totally confused. "Why the fuck did she call me rhya?" the ragabash says, glancing over to Bernie and the two Fianna. "Something's fucked up with her, I guess."
In the front rooms, Cameron takes a swig of coke and replies quietly, "Tell me about it."
Bernie regards the sliding door as she drums her fingertips on the side of the fridge, debating. On the one hand, she's =really= starting to get sick of chasing Alicia around all the time. But on the other hand... the Gnawer sighs, and shakes her head, looking upward and spreading her hands, palms up, as if asking God to please =quit= it already. She heads for the door, picking up the Coke as she goes.
In the front rooms, Matt frowns. "Wait. Back up. What did she say, /exactly/." His eyes harden a little, but not much. He wants to get to the bottom of this, and fast.
[Barnyard]
Bernie emerges from the back door of the Farmhouse, the opened Coke in hand. "Y'forgot your soda," she remarks, dry again, and proffers the can.
Alicia lets out a long breath, stopping in her tracks. "I opened it up for you, figured you were thirsty." Comes her reply.
"Kinda you," Bernie replies, "...I'm a'ight, though." A pause. "'bout you? 's only crescent moon, so I know 's not that gettin' on your nerves. Wha' happened, anyhow?" The soda remains offered.
Alicia turns around and faces her, shrugging her jacket about her shoulders. "Just sick of Cameron acting like a lil player I guess. You know, we come to a deal, which I thought was sealed with a knee to his nuts. An, then he kisses me an grabs my ass a few days ago. I didn't say anything then, but now I see him tripping on this blonde chick, an I really hope he doesn't think he can pull the same shit with her and play her like a fiddle, ya'know what I mean?" She states. "And I wasn't slandering her, I was busting his chops some, seeing how he'd react you know? I can tell sometimes when guys are playing ya'know?"
Bernie leans against the side of the house, absently taking a sip of the Coke as the other cub talks. "I dunno... I mean, I know I'm not any kina expert on all'is, but, y'know, watchin' 'em, doesn' look t' me like he's playin'. Or her. So what makesya think so?" It's a genuine question, not defensive.
Alicia shrugs her shoulders, opening her mouth to reply, then lets out a breath. "I don't, now."
Bernie sips the soda absently again, and nods. "...so maybe th' paira ya should make up, then? 's no point bein' all at each other's throats f'r no reason, yeah?" she suggests. "Y'know, jus' tell him y'were worried an' all, butcher convinced now, or whatever?"
Alicia shrugs her shoulders absently a bit. "Maybe I should just stay put out in the woods instead." She lets out a quick breath, then shoves her hands deep into her pockets. "I'll just catch you later or something, maybe."
Matt eases the sliding door open, putting on his coat against the cold. He listens just a moment, and as Alicia mentions leaving, he speaks up, softly, no anger or rancor in his voice. "Alicia, wait a tic, please?"
Alicia glances over to Matt, watching him for a moment. "Its best I just go Matt." She reaches up and slips her hair out of the scrunchie, letting it fall tousled across her shoulders, halfway down her back now, almost ferally.
Matt scowls. "You're the judge now, Gibbous Moon? Do ye plan ta hide in the woods from /all/ yer problems? Books, 'ere--" He flashes the Ragabash a quick look--"is yer friend and worried about ye. You runnin' from 'er, too?"
Bernie glances upward a second. "'lish, c'mon, jus' chill an' hold on, a'ight? This's jus'... dumb. An' I'm gonna start gettin' pissed 'f you keep runnin' 'way like this. 'ventually, I'm gonna get sicka runnin' after ya. A'ight? So..." She breaks off as Matt speaks, and then adds, "...so, yeah," rather unnecessarily.
"Matt, shut up." Alicia says point blankly at him. "When you become a Cliath, then you can put a guilt trip on me, and use your backwards psychology on me to make me feel bad, break down an cry, and sing Kumbi-fucking-yah around the firepit roasting marshmallows. "I have a problem, I'll deal with it the way I deal with problems. Maybe I talk better when I'm calmed down, an not tripping ok?"
"Submit to Those of Higher Station," Matt intones. "or Respect Those Beneath Ye, All are of Gaia. Take yer pick, Alicia. Ye want to stare /me/ down, an' decide which it'll be? Oi doan't honestly give a frog's bottom what yer on, but Oi am damn sure not goin' frough this shite wif you everytime we're boaf at the farmhouse. The stellas aren't worf it, friend or no friend."
Bernie just goes silent for the time being, leaning back against the wall and crossing her arms across her abdomen as she regards her friends. The Coke is completely forgotten in her hand, not even absently sipped, now.
Alicia shrugs her shoulders and glances over to Bernie with a sigh. She looks hesitant for a moment, bites her lip, then turns, heading into the woods. "Good night guys."
Matt /almost/ goes after her. "Foine. Run. Will ye run if the Wyrm says somefing you doan't like? If It 'urts someone you care about? Do you fink 'iding in the fuckin' woods will save you?" His voice does not rise, but the intensity of his feelings increases as he speaks. "Go, then. Turn your back on me."
Bernie doesn't say anything for quite a few seconds, gaze following the Gaian, face relatively impassive. The silence makes the odd, metallic crinkling noise seem rather louder than it really is. "Well," she says in a soft, level tone, then, "I say we go back inside."
"Back inside?" Matt is full-on scowling now. "Books, Oi fink Oi just lost my taste for the Farmhouse entire." Lighting a cigarette, he smokes, fumes even.
Bernie winces a bit, and some drops of soda fall from her clenched hand. She very gingerly uncurls her fingers, taking the severely crushed and actually split can in her other hand, and regards the palm it had been in for a moment before lifting it to her mouth, and sucking at the cut there. Without comment, she turns and pushes the door open, disappearing inside, the can dripping coke as she moves. After a couple minutes, she returns, bearing two unopened bottles of Guinness in her intact hand.
Matt nods his thanks, twisting the bottlecap off with little thought. He drinks most of the bottle immediately, gasping a bit when he comes up for air. In turn, he fishes out his pack of cigarettes, a fresh pack, actually, and offers one to Bernie. The 'clink!' of his lighter is loud in their silence, as he offers a flame to go with the smoke.
The bottlecap leaps off Bernie's bottle with barely a glance from the girl; she's getting very, very good at that. Lots of practise. Her own first sip takes care of at least a quarter of the contents, though she slows down after that, and accepts the cigarette, holding it to the flame. Ah. Vices.
Matt sighs, "You know 'er better than me, Books. Help me 'ere." He turns to face the Gnawer, dirt scrunching as he twists on the stoop. He looks pained, caught somehow.
Bernie looks somewhat less pained, herself, despite the fact that her hand is still bleeding. It'll stop. "Shoot," she replies, taking another drink of the beer.
Matt sighs smoke, frustrated. "Oi'm not sure what ta ask ye. Is this like her?" He waves the beer bottle in the general direction of the treeline. "Runnin' away?"
Bernie thinks about that, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air and studying it for interesting shapes. "...well, lately, yeah. Not s'much b'fore, don't think. She's stressed 'bout measurin' up when it comes t' them Ritin' her an' all, I know..." She pauses, and looks at Matt thoughtfully a little, considering.
Matt finishes the beer, and leans back on his palms. "She baited Cameron in there, you know," he adds quietly. He shifts, uncomfortable.
"Don' doubt it," Bernie replies, glancing back toward the house. "She says, she was thinkin' he might be bein' a player an' she di'n' want him t', y'know, be playin' Summer 'f he wasn' serious." She pauses, sipping her drink slowly. "....she d'cided he was on th' up an' up, incident'ly."
The whole scene seems to have left a bad taste in Matt's mouth that Guinness and strong tobacco can only mitigate, not remove. "She plannin' on checkin' up on everyone an' their kinfolk? Not 'er job, y'know." He sighs. "Roight. Done bitchin'."
Bernie shakes her head, "No....." Despite being upset at Alicia, she =is= still one of her best friends. "...th' thing with her an' Cam, 's not like all th' flirtin' an' all was on her side. An' 'parently, it di'n' get completely settled b'fore, 'cause he kissed her 'gain th' other day. So tha's why she's all not inclined t' trust him with that kina thing, I guess." She sighs, and shrugs a little. "...I dunno," she says softly, shaking her head. "'s all fucked up."
"Aye," Matt whispers hoarsely, nodding. "That it is, and no mistake. She needs ta resolve it wif him. Read 'im if she needs, whatever. Runnin' an 'hidin' is /not/ gonna make Adam 'appy, or more inclined ta Rite 'er."
Bernie sighs again, and just leans against the building again, saying nothing. The almost empty bottle dangles loosely from her hand. The blood on her other palm has clotted.
Matt gives Bernie a look like an unemployed pallbearer. "Sorry, Books. Philodox opinion. We, as a sept, /need/ her. But we hafta be able ta depend on her, neh? If she won't resolve this kinda thing, an' won't let anyone /else/ resolve it"--his voice growls a bit under this point--"Then she's a fookin' liability."
"' know," Bernie replies quietly, something about her tone making it clear that the 'k' and 'w' are on the version of the word she's using. She looks off toward the woods into which the Galliard disappeared. "Guess we gotta see what happens."
Matt nods. "C'mon. Let's go home." He stands and offers a hand, forlorn, to the Gnawer cub.
Bernie nods slightly in return, and drains the rest of her beer, setting the bottle beside the door before taking Matt's hand. "A'ight," she agrees quietly, following him, "...home."