Kaz is asleep, face down on a couch, drooling gently. Some of the food from last night is festooning the fridge.

At the top of the stairs, Bernie knocks gently on the door -- after opening it. "Ding dong," she calls down quietly, "Avon callin'..." She takes a few steps down the stairs, looking to see if anyone's in and that she isn't interrupting anything important. She looks just like usual, except that she's wearing a pair of large, round, very dark sixties-era sunglasses over her usual glasses. White plastic frames. On the right person, at the right time, they might've been glamourous. She is not the right person, and it's not the right time.

Kaz rolls over and snores. Loudly. Apparently, it's loud enough to wake herself up, since she suddenly cuts off and sits up, blinking muzzily.

Bernie peers down through the darkness, and smiles a little. "Hey," she greets, padding down the rest of the stairs, "...y'mind 'f I come in?"

Kaz blinks owlishly at the Ragabash. "No. Not s'long as y'can cope with me an' my brain before a shower. Jesus, what the hell time is it?" She rises to head to the fridge, adding, a little more coherently, "And hello t'you too. 'Sup?"

"One thirtyish," Bernie replies, a marvel of precision, "...an' I c'n cope, or I c'n hold on while y'take one, a'ight with me either way. I wan'ed t' talk t' ya 'bout a couple things, since after th' Moot di'n' work out so well, an' all..."

Kaz shakes her head, as she grabs a Coke, offering with a questioning gesture of her head to get Bernie pretty much whatever drink she's in the mood for. "Nah. I can cope with talkin' b'fore I take showers, s'long's you can deal with lookin' at my hair. An' yeah, sorry, patrol's a bitch."

Bernie eyes the fridge almost warily a second from behind the glasses. "Toss me onea those too? Thanks..." She moves a hand ready to catch it if actually tossed, and finds herself a place to sit on a couch. In a corner or it, as usual. "An' 's a'ight, caughtcha now, right?"

Kaz, in fact, does toss it, but she seems to have good aim. Nor does she throw it very hard. Grabbing a Snickers, she flops onto the other half of the sofa, and nods. "Well, unless y'dreamin' me, yeah..."

Bernie manages to catch it, and gives it an odd look for a moment before she realises the glasses are still on, and rectifies that, slipping them off and into her backpack. "Nah, you're a hell of a lot more cryptic in my dreams..." She pops the soda open, and quickly sips up the froth that threatens to overflow. "So, I wan'ed t' talk t' you 'bout th' bones, an' all. How's it stand right now?"

Kaz quirks a small grin. "Ok, I gotta ask you about /that/, someday..." Trailing off, she sighs. "Leda kinda flaked and then I think she left town or something, so I'm tryin'a pick up after her messes. Basically, we got the maps f'th' place, an' there's shitloads of security -- I mean, of the motion detection type, I think. Mr. Mysterious And Annoyin' could work, but I figure, why get into debt with him when, with this charity shit, they'll have to put the thing out the night before, yeah?"

Bernie nods, curling up comfortably. "Okay... that's kina what I gathered from whatcha said last night. Y'mind me tossin' in some input anna idea that kina struck me?"

Kaz pauses in the midst of opening her Coke, and gives Bernie a /look/. "Hello? When have I ever minded?"

Bernie grins, and shrugs. "Never, but I figured I'd be p'lite. So, a'ight, then. Gonna start with what I'm concerned 'bout, 'cause I haven't figured out yet how t' fix it. They prolly already took DNA samples, yeah? An' they mighta passed 'em on. So even if we get th' bones away, we really oughta deal with that somehow, right? Second thing. Stealin' th' bones, that's all good. But I had this thought, where it maybe plays up th' bigfoot thing, 'cause people might go, why'd someone wanna steal those? Tryin' t' cover things up? An' then I thought, well, maybe we'd be stealin' 'em t' sell 'em t' th' highest bidder, but how would y'make people think that? An' =then= I thought, well... what if we kidnapped 'em? Y'know, stole 'em, held 'em for ransom? An' if they wouldn' pay, hey, solves that, an' if they =did=, we could use th' money for other shit... like th' park, maybe, or your challenge, an' shit... an' maybe we could get holda somea th' kina bones th' scientists =thought= they'd be, those short-nosed bear ones, an' give THOSE back instead. Though 'course we'd hafta fix th' DNA problem somehow."

Kaz listens to this as she takes a long swig of Coke. "They got DNA samples, yeah. I still ain't figured out a way t'cope with that, since Mysterious Motherfucker said he couldn't. Other than to maybe give 'em new ones once we actually /get/ a short nosed bear, yeah. Or a good facsimilie. I've already started tryin' to get Native Americans protestin' an' tryinna shut th' DNA shit down, but anyways." She considers Bernie over the top of the can. "In other words, stealin' 'em an' leavin' interestin' notes. Works f'me. I mean, media circus, what the fuck, this kinda thing could go for a million, easy. Not that it /would/, but..."

Bernie grins a little wider, and nods, taking a sip of her soda. "We gotta work it out so they don't =catch= us makin' th' exchange, if it gets t' that, an' we gotta make sure they don't boobytrap it, like with explodin' ink bombs or some shit, so, y'know, gonna hafta think on th' logistics, but it seemed like it'd give th' right look t' th' thing, y'know? Misdirection of motive, an' all 'at. Plus, hell, it's not like if we actually ended up with some money that'd be a bad thing. Th' DNA, though..." her brow furrows, "...we gotta figure out how t' switch it out. 'cause they can't have it, 'specially if we give 'em back diff'rent bones -- they'll check t' be sure th' sequences match, I'm sure."

Kaz frowns a little. "Didn't Mr. Dark and Dubious say that it was, like, on the way to be sequenced and he fucked up the shippin'? So it's been /done/ already. So I guess we could steal the original product, kinda, so they'd have to re-test to be sure, and then they'd get actual bear DNA since of course we'd have given them actual bear bones back." She nods on the logistics. "Yeah. I'm pretty much leavin' the actual stealin' up to, um, people who're good at that shit, but I figure there's gonna be a hella booby traps, y'know? It's why the Jam Tech shit'd be so useful..."

"Did he?" Bernie asks, racking her brain, "...I r'member, he said he got th' bones mixed up... an' that it'd be easier t' alter th' test results than substitute DNA... an', oh, man, I totally forgot, that they had multiple plaster casts... we're gonna hafta arrange for those t' go missin' or break or be replaced with ones from th' new bones, too."

Kaz narrows her eyes in thought. "Honestly, I dunno. I /think/--" She breaks off. "Arranged... mixed..." Evidently, she's trying to reconstruct the conversation in her head. "Arranged for the bones to get /mixed up/. So we dunno if they've done no DNA shit or not. So if we broke their DNA stuff and then stole the DNA, then that'd be pretty good, yeah? An' gave 'em fake bones later..."

Bernie considers, and nods. "Yeah. But we better find out if they sent anything anywhere else, too, just in case... I mean, hell, not that they can 'zactly come askin' for their money back, but if they =know= 'bout th' switch it'll mess it all up. 'cause they'll know th' pre-switch stuff's what t' pay attention to." She gnaws lightly at her lower lip.

Kaz considers. "Yeah. I know. But I ain't heard from Glissa in ages an' Tom ain't exactly hooked into this shit. D'we know anyone else who'd work as a Respectibiggle College Student?"

Bernie laughs. "'s too bad we can't put it off any. Seein' as last I checked Matt an' I were both plannin' on tryin' t' go there, fall s'mester. But, lessee, right now? Mm. Dunno anyone offa topa my head... though," her brow furrows, "...there was that one girl, wasn' she goin' there? Vet student? ...Prudence or Priscilla or somethin'? Though, I've seen Dr. Nicholson 'round a lot more."

Kaz says, blankly, "Prudence?" This would be Kaz, perking her ears up. "I dunno no Prudence. Talk t'me?"

Bernie pushes a curl back behind her ear -- it's just grown back long enough for her to feel the need, and nowhere near long enough to have even a chance of settling back there. "I coulda sworn you were there when I met here, it was like, a few months back, though... at th' Farmhouse. She was bringin' some food. Um, Get kin, maybe? But, yeah. That's what I r'member, that was was a vet student there. An' she di'n' get my joke, but that's not that odd."

Kaz shakes her head at her Coke. "Huh. Don't remember. But -- I'll see'f I can find her. Or Dr. Nicholson, yeah. she'd prolly be better, she's an authority figure an' all... but, like, if we can't contact /them/, whaddo we do?"

Bernie nibbles on her bottom lip, and stares off into the middle distance. "If we can't contact them," she echoes, slowly, and pauses, thinking. Then, she quirks a half-smile, "Well. I guess if we can't contact them, I go represent my high school paper an' see if I c'n get an interview, t' get th' info... an' then we go in an' steal an' smash as needed, I s'pose."

Kaz points a finger at her packmate. "I think that's th' best idea I've heard yet. I'll try'n poke at 'em, but if I don' get 'em in a couple days, you should getcher press hat all spiffed up."

"Got it," Bernie replies, sitting up slightly straighter in the corner of the sofa, and grinning again. "I'll find a nice fedora or somethin'." She sips her soda, finishing the can off and leaning down to set it aside.

Kaz nods firmly. "Can't be press without a fedora. Ain't allowed." She lets her grin out, and then finishes her Coke. "Wuzzat the only thing outta Moot you wanneda poke at?"

Bernie's grin dims a bit, as she sits back up. "Well. Kina not. So since I couldn' finda a 'dox with that truth gift th' other day, how's things work t' handle it?"

In a way, it's sort of interesting to see a completely relaxed person close up completely, physically. Kaz crumples the can in her hand. "Iiii.... Dunno, Bern." Taking a breath, some of her body language relaxes again. "/Elan/ just wants to take it as suicide." There's a short pause while she chews on something. "But Elan's a wuss," she finally says. "But I also don't... I ain't done with my challenge yet, I can't challenge his stupid authority yet, an' fuckin' with Jarred, that'd be fuckin' with Elan's authority."

Bernie nods, completely serious now, and considers that, eyes dark again. "Elan," she remarks, after a few moments, "wasn' ever 'round t' see what was goin' on." This doesn't seem to be a reply, exactly. That comes next, after a little more thought. "I'm willin' t' wait a li'l. I mean... th' question ain't goin' anywhere. But, y'know. Either way. I wanna know th' truth. An' I kina figure, th' world at least owes him that, when people're sayin' he's a coward for doin' it, I mean if he di'n'..." She breaks off, and shakes her head. "Th' truth matters. Anyway. So 'f you guys say, I'll wait 'til you don' hafta feel like you're challengin' Elan's authority..." She pauses. "If we voted, th' tribe I mean, on Elder? I doubt he'd still have that title. So r'member t' let me know, there's anythin' I c'n do t' give you a hand with th' challenge, an' all, fixin' things so th' official matches th' actual."

"Yeah. Well." Kaz seems a little uncertain about how to react to that, and finally just forges onwards. "Basically, we mighta been ready to cull him, but it was /us/ gonna cull him, not Jarred. An' even if Rotem'd fucked with Jarred's authority like he fucked with Brittany's, so Jarred had a /reason/ to kill him, Jarred oughta have /said/ that he did it. Hell, I woulda... Been pissed, but I wouldna /blamed/ him. But tryin'a say it was a suicide? Nuh-uh. I'm with you." Taking a breath, she adds, "Though -- he's practically the only Shadow Lord here. The thing I wanna be sure of is that, first of all, we don't fuck over Rotem's memory, but also that we don't completely fuck over the Gnawers by persistin' with the truth. Careful line, that's all."

Bernie tilts her head a bit. "A'ight, so, I'm not all knowledgeable with, like, th' politics, yet, but how would makin' sure th' truth was settled fuck th' tribe over? I mean... I'd think.. well, anyhow, I'm missin' somethin', there."

Kaz shrugs. "Because makin' it clear t'th' gen'ral public that Jarred was a sumbitch who killed someone and then made it look like suicide would tend to make Jarred, the Elder of the Shadow Lords, not real inclined to like us. But I ain't gonna leave it the way it looks /now/, that's f'sure."

Bernie nods at that, pulling her legs up a bit. "...well. T'be fair it ain't like we're gonna like HIM a whole hell of a lot, either. Though I get whatcha mean. I jus'... think it's important, an' all. So, yeah." She nods once.

"Yeah." Kaz sighs. "Me, I'm willin'a just get th' truth out've 'im an' then tell the Gnawers, but that's still..." She sighs. "It's still a damn insult to the kid's memory. I din' /like/ him none, but fuck." She bares her teeth. "This'll take thinkin' on."

"I =did= like him," Bernie says, a bit quieter, "when he wasn' bein' an asshole. An' he wasn' all th' time..." She cuts off there for a moment. "...anyway. So, yeah. I guess we're dealing with that in like a month or two, then, huh?"

Kaz mutters, "He had flashes," but subsides, shaking her head. At Bernie's last comment, she almost grins. "I'm settin' the date f'this charity thing as like J'ly 12th. So yeah, sometime after that..."

Bernie half-smiles, and nods. "I'll mark it on my calendar, an' all. 'm I gonna hafta get a dress?" she teases a little.

Kaz muses, "Actually, I could just challenge his butt an' make it clear it was f'dishonor but not specify why -- but /we'd/ know. The Gnawers. That would work pretty good... An' if he ain't a dipshit about stuff, we c'ld still deal with him aft'wards." She blinks, and then actually does start grinning. "Christ, Bern, I think I'd /pay/ t'see you in a dress..."

"...still wouldn' know th' truth for sure," Bernie points out, quietly, but goes on to the other topic, the earlier half-smile quirking in a little more strongly, "...I don' think I've worn a dress since I was, like... geez. I don' even r'MEMber." She giggles.

Kaz says, quietly, with almost no traces of her usual accent, "Bernie. We /know/ the truth. We just don't have absolute confirmation. But we /all/ of us know better than to think Rotem'd do that. And Jarred squirming around like he was? That just made me more sure of it. This would suit the /Garou/ conception of challenges, and satisfy /our/ -- and, more to the point, Rotem's -- honor, while still making sure we can work an alliance with the man." She shrugs. "S'I dunno, I could point a halfmoon at him, but I'm willin'a do't th' old fashioned way..." She trails off.

Bernie's jaw tightens a little. "Not positive I wanna be havin' alliances with murderers," she replies, "...an'... seems like there oughta be more consequences than some kina challenge he might not even end up losin', dependin' how things go..." She glances downward. "I dunno. Maybe I'm, like, bein' all idealistic an' human about this an' maybe I shouldn't. It just seems like there oughta be more consequences."

"Lemme tell you a story." Kaz explains, "I wasn't here for this, but my pack kinda talked about it some. There was this Shadow Lord called Alexander Thunder's Claws. He and this Get named Stone-Thrower got into a fight -- we don't even know it was a real challenge -- and Stone-Thrower frenzied, killed, and /ate/ Alexander. Now, the Shadow Lords were all pissed about this, and they went to a half moon. This half moon -- Alexander's former packmate, she was -- said that murder was, technically, not against Garou law, and therefore this Stone Thrower -- which is to say, Kyle Thunder-Eater, former Get Elder and all around badass, in a Fenris pack near /you/ -- was not actually guilty of anything." Kaz's jaw tightens. "Which is therefore why, frankly, I'd rather not trust a half moon with this. And would rather deal with it /ourselves/."

Bernie's jaw tightens further at the story, and she glowers darkly at her knees. "So god forbid we should ever love each other, but killin' each other in cold blood, hey, that's just good clean fun. Lovely fuckin' priorities we got," she mutters, mostly to herself. Looking up, she nods once to Kaz, and says at her usual volume, "...a'ight. Trust you t' know what'll work best with shit like this, I guess. But in that story? 'least everyone got t' know what th' truth was. No one was holdin' Alexander's memory as a coward who ate =himself=." She ignores the possible humour in that sentence.

Kaz, for some reason, relaxes a little. "Yeah. Well. We're Gnawers, Bern, we ain't exactly mainstream Garou. An' thank Gaia f'/that/, is all /I/ can say. That kinda hypocrisy, well... Bein' ignored's sometimes useful." Kaz sees no particular humor in Bernie's last words, and just nods. "Like I say. The important people -- that is, /us/, the Gnawers -- we'll know it wasn't Rotem. Everyone else, they'll just know I whupped his butt over some kinda dishonor, so I -- and by extension, the Gnawers -- were right."

Bernie nibbles her bottom lip a second, and nods. "Kick his ass, then," she says, "...an' maybe I'll jus' happen t' add makin' his life mis'rable inta my li'l list of projects." There's a fleeting and somewhat feral grin with that, consisting of too many teeth and not a shred of humour. It's gone by the time she continues, "...anyway. Tryin' t' think if there's anythin' else I gotta tell ya or ask ya 'bout."

The metis looks around. "Miserable? What's that about miserable? Didn't hear anything about that..." She quirks a small grin, but then sobers again. "An' as to allyin' up with a murderer -- Bern, there's only so many people to deal with, even in a Sept this big. An' -- well, I've /killed/ people. Humans, I mean. Killed 'em without a second thought, because I had to, to get through them to other shit that /really/ needed killin'. I am not precisely pure myself. So -- I can't claim much moral superiority over him, except insofar as I don't try and fuckin' /hide/ it. So yeah. I'll ally with him. Because I gotta, t'do what /we/ gotta. An' meanwhile, you can, uh. Do that thing I wasn't hearing."

"There's a diff'rence b'tween havin' to kill someone in order t' kill somethin' big an' bad an' in th' long run more d'structive, an' killin' someone because... what, you thought it wasn't happenin' quick enough?" Bernie shakes her head. "I mean, yeah, shadesa grey, but certain shades get where th' unaided eye can't distinguish 'em from black." Her hands come up, pushing her curls back behind her ears. "So. I got it, though."

Kaz says, a little wryly, "Apparently, not because it wasn't happenin' quick enough, but becuase he wanted to spare us the shit the Gaians would give us, an' so he could spare us th' shit th' other tribes were givin' us because we weren't crackin' down on him. To which I say, 'Fuck off and die,' but anyway. I ain't sayin' I wanna be his best friend. I ain't sayin' I want him to have my babies. I'm sayin' I wanna have a workin' relationship with him. Which is hard if I'm accusin' him of murder. That's all. /Anyway/." She shakes her head. "Christ. Remind me to shut up sometimes. I don' think I had nothin' t'tell you sp'cifically..."

"Oh, yeah. He only had our best in'trests at heart. An' I bet that bid I put down on that bridge in Brooklyn'll go through any day now," the Ragabash remarks with airy sarcasm, eyes narrowed. "...but like you said. Anyway." She closes her eyes a moment, rubbing a hand across her temples. "I'll work on tryin' t' come up with a ransom set up that'll keep us safe. Seein' as I got better things t' do 'n be in prison for th' next umpteen years, an' all. Th' sixteenth, that's like... next Wednesday?"

Kaz looks up, into that place where dates hide. "No. I said we could steal it easier that night. The thing itself is the 17th."

Bernie blinks, and nods. "So it'll be easier th' night b'fore? How d'ya figure?" she asks, shifting to sit crosslegged on the cushion and leaning in slightly.

Kaz shrugs. "Well, I kinda figure I don' wanna do it /during/ th' reception..."

Bernie grins, the proper way, now. "Well. Dependin' what they do on security, it might be th' best time... or while they're movin' th' bones to or from th' shindig." She pauses, drumming her fingers on the armrest. "In purely dramatic terms, absolute best'd be t' snatch 'em on th' way, an' not have 'em notice 'til they unveil 'em in fronta everyone an' there's a note givin' th' ransom terms instead. That'd be nice an' cinematic."

Kaz snorts, almost laughing. "Hey. I'll leave th' execution t'you, Bern. You're th' expert..."

Bernie bounces slightly on the sofa. "...long's you let me bounce shit offa ya t' make sure I'm not missin' anythin' obvious, yeah? So, from last night, I take it Joey's doin' th' actual grab?" she queries, "...I prolly oughta track him down an' tell him th' idea. Which r'minds me I gotta learn that thing y'do with th' fry, re: trackin' people down. Teach me that soon?"

Kaz says, "Well, it was more like, at the time, he was the only person I knew that had both Blur an' th' lock pickin' thing. But yeah, I grabbed him. Def'nitely talk t'him an' pool resources an' ideas." She makes a face, and nods. "That Sevens thing is fuckin' /hard/ t'learn. I'll getcha th' Questin' Fry when I gotta handle on it, 'kay?"

Bernie nods. "Well, for future ref'rence, th' Timinator does, as I r'call, an' Yi does, an' now I do, too." The grin broadens a tad, a little proud. "An' sure thing; meanwhile I'll jus' track him down th' old fashioned way. Oughta be fine."

Kaz seems to be recording that in her brain, and then she grins. "Rockin' t'you, Bern. Great. Totally nab him, 'cause, y'know, he's a good guy, but I dunno if he thinks it out quite s'much's you do."

Bernie hehs, a bit wryly, "I maybe think things out a bit more'n they really need t' be, gen'rally... but, hey, us'ly works for me. Yeah, so I'll snag him. Y'already gave him th' plans y'had? An' are they for.. what, where th' bones are us'ly kept?"

Kaz nods. "Yeah. Joey's got 'em. An' yeah, they're f'th' museum, but they're /kinda/ useful f'other parts've the place, too."

"Cool beans," Bernie replies, and pushes up from the sofa, stretching a bit before she leans down to reclaims her empty Coke can. "Where d'ya want me t' throw this?"

Kaz jerks her head at the half open plastic garbage bag on the ground near the fridge. "Over there. Meanwhile, I oughta get th' heck int' th' shower, hey?"

Bernie steps over to toss the can in the bag, and gives the Galliard an appraising look. "Hey, I dunno, tousled look kina suits you," she teases, and adjusts her backpack to go. "Cool, then. Sorry t' wake you up an' all, by th' way." Starting toward the stairs, she adds, "...shower well! Hope y'get hot water t'day."

Kaz shakes her head. "Nah. 's all good. Y'r a good wake up call, 'cuz you make me engage m'damn brain." Then she grins. "We've had better luck with th' water ever since JD hammered th' pipes int' submission."

Bernie turns on the first stair and grins back. "Oh, so they recognize y'all as highest in station, now. Good t' know. Though, speakin' of workin' pipes into submission, we oughta look inta doin' that parta th' fountain work soon, yeah? Anyway! Lettin' ya shower, now. I'll bug ya soon, obviously." She waves, and starts back up the stairs, quickly.

Kaz actually just falls back on the sofa and moans quietly.