Standing at a distance, Sophia points to the flowers. "Aren't they /weird/?" she says, "I think there's something wrong with them. They were blooming too early, too."

The park is, as usual, close to deserted. The only person already in evidence is a dark-haired girl with a trash bag and a long stick with a spike on the end, collecting litter. In other words, Bernie's here. Quite near the fountain, actually. She's got dishwashing gloves on and she's humming to herself, too.

Coming up behind Sophia, Corey stares at the flowers, but his general reaction seems to be, 'plants... okay...' He obviously doesn't understand what he's supposed to be seeing.

Dizzy looks over and starts to wander towards them. They are weird and she's going over to check them out.

Sophia squints at the figure, trying to get a closer look despite the dark. "Is that you, Bern?" she calls. Of course it is. Who else would be here, doing that, in the dark?

Corey investigates the flowers more closely, though he still fails to see what's so odd about them. He looks up at Sophia's shout, but seeing no men around goes back to his prodding.

Sophia says softly, "Hey. Don't do that. Magic is real, you know."

The humming breaks off, and Bernie comes around the other side of the fountain, head cocked slightly as she regards the cubs appraisingly, relaxing a bit as she recognizes Sophia. "Hey, Sophisticate," she greets her, "'sup? Friendsa yours?" A tilt of her head toward the strangers.

Dizzy looks back at Sophia and walks back to her. She looks at Bernie and back at Sophia.

Sophia chuckles at the manipulation of her name. "Yeah. They're tribesmates. This lupey one is Dizzy, who can't talk yet or she'd introduce herself. A cub ragabash, Glasswalker. This other one," she says, pointing at Corey, "Should be able to introduce himself."

Dizzy sits and nods, agreeing with her roommate's introduction of her.

Corey backs off from the flora, and walks around it to stand by Sophia. Then he realizes what 'Bern' was short for. "Oh. Umm... Corey Randle, CJ if you prefer. Glass Walker ragabash, and cub." He puts out his hand, then retracts it an inch when he sees the gloves.

Signe's on foot tonight, so there's no rumble of the familiar Harley to announce her. Thus, she comes upon the Park Meadow and the fountain rather quietly, hands tucked in the pockets of her leather jacket.

Bernie grins at the introductions, getting a somewhat evil glint in her eye as the hand is partially retracted, but it passes. "Oh, yeah? Kickass. Bernie Rosenberg," she pauses, catching movement, and waves and continues once she sees the arrival is safe, "Stomps-Th'-Wyrm-With-Steeltoed-Boots, Cliath 'Gnawer Raggie, niceta meetcha both." She peels one glove off in a practised move, offering that hand to the male cub. See? No need to touch the nasty glove. No icky germs, hurrah!

Dizzy looks over to the newest arrival, another person she hasn't met yet. She whimpers, wanting to be able to talk to these people, and not just listen.

The male cub himself doesn't seem too sure about the no-germs guarantee, but he does grasp the hand offered. Then he looks in the direction everyone else seems to have found interest.

Signe's eyes glance over the gaggle of cubs quickly, seemingly taking little note of them. She doesn't even bother returning the offered nod. Instead, she turns to Bernie. "Hey Scraps," she greets with a quiet rasp. "Know where Kaz is?"

Pack> Bernie's thought heads out to her packmates: Hey. Kaz, you awake? Signe's asking after ya...

Dizzy yawns, and looks around, she's getting tired. Poking her roommate to get her attention she starts walking off towards the appartment. She looks back to see if her message was understood.

Pack> Max answers in her usual out of the blue guess-who style. "You gotta ask louder'n that if you want Einstein to run his buff ass all th'way t'Seattle, Burn."

Pack> Bernie's reply is clearly startled. "No shit, Seattle? 'sup with that? ...how come I di'n' know 'bout that? How outta it do =I= feel?"

Sophia nods and waves to her roommate. "See you when I get back home. Just don't do anything dumb like change outside. Ring the doorbell or something, someone'll let you in."

Pack> Max sends Bernie an image of her apartment painted carnation pink. "You been gone wayyyy too long, Burn." Her laughter echoes a little.

Dizzy nods and barks a goodbye. She then turns back, padding off back home.

Corey adds, quietly but with a certain sense of happy malice, "Or at least someone will be driven crazy by the noise until it happens. Well, I can hope."

"Hey," Bernie replies, putting the glove back on, and seeming to concentrate a moment. "...'parently, th' Kazzarino's off in Seattle. So, bita a walk, an' all." A slight evil grin flits over her face as she claps a gove-covered hand on Corey's shoulder. So much for avoiding the residue. "Look, new kids."

Pack> Bernie protests, returning an image of the apartment looking rather forlornly bare... the usual state. "Hey, I've only been gone an hour or so, y'ain't THAT fast... otherwise been back for days. Told Kaz soon's we got in."

Sophia nods again to Signe, smiling nervously. "Hi, Signe-Rhya. I'm Sophia, but people call me Spot. A Theurge Cub of the Glass Walkers. That was Dizzy that just left, also a Glass Walker cub, but a Ragabash." She subtly elbows Corey to get his attention.

Signe scowls a bit at the news, though it fades quickly as Bernie points out the cubs. "Yeah. I saw the other night. Invasion of the Walkers."

Signe asks of Sophia, then. "You know my name?"

Sophia nods with a shaky smile, not sure if she's in trouble. "Yes, Rhya. I saw you at the moot. I was trying to memorize everyone's names, to make it easier to introduce myself to people."

Corey glances at the shoulder, surprised. "Ah, well. I needed to wash this shirt anyway. Or burn it." He doesn't get a chance to say more on the subject before he's jabbed. "Hey!" Oh, more family. "I'm Corey, or CJ. Ragabash cub of the Glass Walkers. I have no other names yet."

Signe nods absently to Corey, but keeps most of her attention on Sophia. The glint in her dark eyes suggests she's impressed. "You've got good memory then."

Sophia shrugs and ducks her head a little bit, not about to say that Signe is a very distinctive person.

Bernie smirks slightly at Corey's comment. "Aww. Maybe John'll letcha patronize his tailor," she remarks with a definite touch of yuppie-voice on the last couple words -- the slightly wanna-be British accent, right up in the nose. She grins nice and friendly then, though, and the tone's gone as she shifts the stick from one hand to the other, and stabs an errant coke can on the ground, before glancing back to the Get, "...Sophia's pretty cool."

Pack> Max leaves a warm, laughing breath near Bernie's ear. "Y'ain't back 'til I say you're back, chica."

Pack> Bernie laughs, not quite a snort. "Yeah, a'ight, Sarge."

Signe's gaze lingers overlong on Sophia, as if measuring the accuracy of Bernie's statement. If she comes to a conclusion, it doesn't show in her features. She shrugs beneath her jacket, adjusting it along her shoulders, and asks, "So, you know when Kaz'll be back?"

Corey sighs dramatically, picking up on the humor if nothing else. "You do realize that patronizing his tailor is exactly what he expects me to do?" Subtle shift of the word meaning, there. "Nah. I just need to get some clothes that aren't these. I didn't look ahead and pack a suitcase before I was unexpectedly whisked off. Rather silly of me, don't you think?"

Pack> Bernie says "...hey, Maximus. So when is Fearless Leader gettin' back?"

Pack> Max's answer isn't verbal but it's clear. Tonight or tomorrow.

Sophia lightly touches Corey's arm, giving him a 'shush' look. Her gaze returns to Bernie, interested in the answer.

Bernie gets that slightly unfocused look again, and nods at nothing in particular as it passes. "Tonight or t'marra, dunno which. Y'want, I'll try an' make sure she knows you wanna see her, yeah?" Corey gets a genuine grin, then, and "Yeah, geez, dude, y'gotta plan ahead! Be prepared, an' allat shit. Now me, I had an entire =dufflebag=, see."

Signe shrugs and shakes her head. "Na, I'll prolly drop by the Rialto, soon. Well, if you see her, you could let her know. But it ain't nothing pressing."

Corey checks to see if he's allowed to speak again before replying to Bernie by striking his forehead with the heel of his palm. "Ah! Alas for my misspent youth, joining playground gangs and smoking candy cigarettes in the bathroom when I should have been in the shining example of foresight that is the Boy Scouts!"

Sophia snickers at Corey's joke and gives him a brief look of pride, then raises a hand timidly, only getting it halfway up before dropping it again. "Um, Bernie? I don't suppose you've seen John around last couple of days, have you? He's kinda.... gone, or something. Do you think he could be in Seattle, too?"

Signe's eyes shift to Corey, his joke garnering the Get's attention enough for her to give him the once-over now. With a narrow gaze, she sizes him up, smirking faintly at the punchline of the joke.

Bernie grins sidelong at Corey. "Hey, tha's what we did =in= Scouts," she tosses back, "That an' th' drive-by cookie sellin'. Best not be wearin' th' Campfire colours in =my= neighbourhood..." She drops that riff to toss off a mock-salute to the Fostern, nodding. "No prob. I see her, I'll let 'er know. An' Sophia? I dunno. I haven't seen him 'round in... since 'fore I went on vacation. So."

Corey 's expression turns to mock horror as he has visions of deadly flying Thin Mint slugs crash through a plate-glass window, senselessly feeding a family of five. "Save us all from the Sandies!" he gasps, and falls theatricly to the ground.

Sophia chews on her lip, staring at a pebble on the ground. "Thanks anyway, Bernie..." Gears are turning madly in her head, and she is clueless to the fact that it's obvious she's plotting something she shouldn't be plotting.

Signe lifts her chin, thoughtful, and asks, "You guys got anyone watching you?"

The Walker ragabash cracks an eye open. Seeing nobody reacting further, Corey gets up and brushes off his pants, for all the good it does.

"It's th' Car'mel Delites y'gotta watch out for," Bernie remarks, "much heavier than th' others..." She starts giggling, and glances to Sophia. "I like this one. We c'n keep 'im." She tilts her head at Signe's question, and nods once. "Hey, yeah, y'all bein' babysat?"

Sophia looks surprised, and says reluctantly, "What, us cubs? I can watch the others when no one else is around. I give'm lots of flack. But Roger's around occasionally, and Daisy too, of course." She says this with just a tinge of guilt, knowing that while she has the ability to keep her fellow cubs under control, she doesn't have the authority.

Signe lacks authority in the matter either, but it's clearly read on the Get's face that cubs watching cubs is--in her opinion--a 'bad idea'. the scowl returns, and the Get appears much more restless.

Bernie eyes the cubs thoughtfully. "How long you guys been alone, then?" She doesn't seem to look on cubs-watching-cubs as poorly as Signe -- after all, that describes a good part of =her= cubhood -- but it obviously has her attention.

Corey glances at Sophia for an answer. He's not sure what constitutes 'alone', in this case.

Sophia hesitates, not wanting to make John look bad. "We saw Roger a couple of hours ago, but no one's seen John since late Friday. I talked to him, though. He told me to drill the litany into these guys." Knowing that it's not good enough, Sophia still has to offer a bit of consolation. "It'll get better once I've survived my Rite of Passage."

Signe asks, not even realizing how uncomfortable the cubs are getting beneath this mild inquisition, "You're close to your riting, then?"

Bernie watches Sophia for the answer as well, peeling her gloves back off.

Sophia grimaces and tries to hide between her shoulders. "Not as close as I was before I talked to John Friday. I got kinda mouthy over one of the cubs who was... acting out." She twists her mouth up to the side as she finishes speaking.

Corey shuffles his feet and considers a nearby bench briefly before deciding to remain standing.

Signe's mouth turns up a bit, though the expression can't rightly be called a smile. "Yeah? What'd you say? What'd you do?"

Bernie half-smiles and leaves the inquisition to Signe for the time being, putting th gloves away in a ziploc baggie, then in her backpack, and resting her stick against the plywood barricade. It seems to be the end of today's tidying duties.

Corey 's attention turns back to Signe, though he cuts his unspoken protest off when he realizes she's not accusing him of being the cub in question.

Sophia 's grimace deepens, and she clenches one eye as if bracing for impact. "I, uh... I..." She takes a deep breath, "First I got on his case for not being around, even made it sound like he didn't care what I learned or from who. And he made like he was going to smack me for it, and before he even put his hand down, I contradicted him about what it means to be an adult. Um... yeah." Sophia swallows hard, waiting to be struck again on pure principle.

Signe laughs. It's a quiet sound--for those that know the Get, anyway--rumbling up from deep in her throat in an almost musical way. She shrugs beneath her jacket again and shakes her head. "What moon are you, again?" she asks of Sophia.

The kicked-dog expression on Sophia's face melts with Signe's warmth, leaving behind only mild self-chastisement. "I'm a Theurge, Rhya. I know it's not my place to decide about what people do. But I poked my nose in anyway, out of arrogance."

Bernie leans against the barrier gingerly, and gives Sophia a speculative look. "....an' what DOES it mean t' be an adult? Outta curiosity."

Signe's rumbled laugh dies down, but she nods at the cub, admiring her juice, if nothing else. "Always good to say what you think, and what you believe. No shame in that." She quiets then, waiting for the answer to Bernie's question.

Corey stays quiet. Learn what people will teach willingly or otherwise, until they seem to run out of wisdom. Then bug the hell out of them for what you don't know yet. Sound advice before he fell in with the Garou, and sound advice now.

Sophia glances at Bernie sideways, saying cautiously, "My version, they don't dump sodas on Cliaths for not wearing enough clothes. John's version, well.... they're older than me, and you can't tell them just by how they act."

Bernie snickers softly. "Cover yerself up, young lady!" she admonishes in a creaky old-person voice, "yer an embarrassment! Don't advertise iffin y'ain't sellin'!" Pushing a curl behind her ear -- from whence it promptly escapes again -- she half-smiles, and shakes her head. "I think your def'nition could maybe use a li'l extension... but pers'nally, I wouldn' guarantee th' older'n you an' I think how they act's a prime consideration. But whadda I know, yeah?" She lifts a brow a little, a hint of a smirk moving back into the smile with the self-deprecation.

Signe's restlessnes really begins to show now. Clearly, it's time for the Get to be moving again. She shifts her weight, pulling a hand out to wave and gesture to Bernie, and the cubs. "I'm heading back to Fenris Territory. Check you later, Scraps, kids."

Corey grins and quotes a friend. "Growing old is mandatory. Growing up is optional." He nods good night to Signe, and checks his watch on an impulse. Is it really that late?

Sophia giggles at Bernie's antics, almost to the point of falling on the ground. She waves at Signe, saying between giggles, "I hope to see you around again, Signe-Rhya."

Signe offers, turning to walk backwards for a few steps, "Tell John, if he needs somewhere to train you cubs to fight, he can use the basement." A pause, and she adds, "Though I doubt the Walker'll trust you to me. Heh."

Sophia chuckles softly and nods. "He trains me different places, mostly martial arts, but some target practice too. But I'll let him know."

Bernie offers Signe a wave, and picks her stick back up, glancing toward the moon, what little of it remains this time of month. "Is gettin' late, innit?"

Signe turns back and picks up her pace, disappearing on the other side of the fountain, heading toward the street.

Corey nods as he sees the time. A sudden thought occurs to him. "Uhm, Bernie-rhya... why did Signe ask you about Kaz?"

Bernie stretches, seeming to barely avoid beaning Corey with her stick. It could be worse; at least the pointy end was out of the way. "Mmf? Oh, 'cause A, we're tribesmates, me an' Kaz, I mean, an' two, an' more importantly, she's my pack Alpha. So, y'know, we all try t' keep tracka each other." She eyes the cubs consideringly. "I'm hungry. You guys wanna hit Dennys?" She pauses, and adds, "...act'ly, I think there's some good leftovers at th' Dec'dance, too, slightly cheaper. Got anythin' better t' do?"

Corey gets a grin that widens by the moment as the other nomoon describes the relationship. "Next time you see her, tell Kaz I said hi, and John may commence killing small animals."

Sophia shrugs. "No. Wanna stop by the apartment and make sure Diz didn't get locked out, since she's in lupe and can't communicate yet. Plus I gotta let Samantha inside. But other than that, no. Either one sounds fun." She looks around as she says this, trying to find the dog, who has apparently busied herself by rolling in some mud by the river. Wrinkling her nose, she asks, "How about you, CJ? If you don't wanna go, we could drop you off..."

Corey shrugs. "I'm good to go for another couple hours, I think. I'm game."

Bernie grins. "Cool. Lessee..." That vaguely unfocused look passes across her face again, fleetingly, "...Dec'dance's better for talkin' freely, an' Matt's closin' t'night, so he won't be in for a while, so he isn't asleep an' we don' hafta worry 'bout bein' too quiet. Denny's has a wider varietya options on meals, though, gen'rally. Pref'rences?"

Corey realizes he hasn't had anything since that last glass of kool-aid in Sophia's place. He gives a simple, direct, and utterly unhelpful answer. "Fooooooooooood." Actually, it might be construed as a vote for Denny's.

Sophia holds up her hands like a scale, tipping them back and forth till one falls. "I say Decadence. We can grill you for information there. But Corey's prolly got more questions than me, so I'll let him decide."

Sophia adds, "We could also hang out at me and Dizzy's apartment. I could... make something." She says this like she's not really sure it's true.

"Braaaaaaaaaaaaaains," Bernie replies to Corey, zombie-style. "A'ight. We'll go for Dec'dence; we c'n talk an' I won't even charge for th' food an' drink. Don' worry, I =know= I c'n make somethin'." Must've picked up on the uncertainty.

Corey works over a puzzle in his mind, then shakes his head. "All right, I give up, what's the 'Decadence'?"

Sophia smiles. "That works for me. Do you wanna walk with Corey and I, or should we just meet you there?"

Bernie blinks once at Sophia. "D'pends. Y'know where it is?" she queries, not answering Corey's question, and continues without awaiting the reply, "...nah, I'll be your native guide. 's go." Leaning down a moment, she scopps up her backpack, letting it settle onto her shoulder.

Corey shrugs and follows Bernie and Sophia, guessing he'll find out when he's there. "Lead on, MacDuff." No, he's not misquoting Shakespeare. He's misquoting someone else.

[Bohemian Decadence]

Bernie unlocks the door with the key on the chain about her neck, and pushes it open, gesturing grandly to the interior of the flat. "Tada!" she exclaims, "Welcome t' Bohemian Dec'dence. Make yourselves at home." A negligent wave to the lime green sofa, as she steps inside.

Looking around as she walks through the door, Sophia is reminded of her own apartment. Maybe she didn't give the Gnawers enough credit when she described them to Corey the other day... this isn't so bad, after all.

Corey steps inside and looks around. "My mom would have a coronary if this was her home." By the tone he uses it's intended as a compliment, not an insult. He proceeds to the sofa and sits down after testing one of the cushions.

Bernie grins, locking the door behind them. "Mine too, but mainly 'cause she'd hafta fit like nine people in here..." The backpack gets dumped gently but unceremoniously beside the door, and her jacket falls atop it before she heads for the kitchen and opens the fridge, surveying the contents. "First thing," she asks, "whatcha wanna drink?"

Sophia drops her own backpack next to the couch and sits down. "Um... do you have any Kool-Aid?"

Corey assumes a thoughtful pose, "I'd say I want to drink a block of marble, but I still haven't figured out how to pull it through the straw. What do you have instead?"

Bernie blinks at that. "Diet kina short on minerals lately?" she inquires, peering into the fridge, then opening a cupboard, and shaking her head. "No Kool-Aid, sorry. But there's orange juice, sprite, coke, milk, coffee, tea, Guinness, an' some other stuff around here somewhere."

Sophia brightens at the mention of soda. "I'll have a coke, please. Want any help in there?"

The other Walker's hand goes up at the mention of coke. "Make it two, but I gotta warn you, I'm no good in the kitchen except for one thing."

Bernie pulls a couple sodas from the fridge -- cans, even! -- and tosses them one at a time toward the couch, trusting the cubs to manage to catch them one way or another. "Oh, yeah? What thing, an' I'm kina rootin' for 'dishwashing'?" She pulls a Guinness down from atop the fridge for herself, and pops the lid of the bottle with a quick, insufferably superior glance at it, catching the thing out of the air as it jumps.

Sophia tries to catch the can with her left, taps it, and manages to grab it with her right. Not trusting it, she listens carefully to the can, tapping on the top to settle the bubbles down. "I'll help, if you... hey... how'd you do that?"

Corey catches his can, and sets it down on the table to settle in case it shook up in transit. "Okay, make that two things." His jaw drops as he sees the lid pop off seemingly of its own accord. Yeah, he's seen shifting, but nobody told him about Gifts yet.

"It's maaaaaaaaaaaaaaagic," Bernie replies spookily before shifting directly into overdone arrogance, "...I'm just that good." Grinning, she shrugs, takes a sip of her beer, and drops back into her normal persona. "Act'ly, it =is= magic. No one told you guys 'bout Gifts, yet?" She glances at Sophia, "...someone's gotta've told =you= 'bout 'em, yeah?" Dinner is forgotten, or at least momentarily detained.

Sophia nods and shakes her head all at the same time. "Yeah, but like... for healing and talking to spirits and stuff.... not for opening beer bottles. Hops would love that one."

Corey rolls his eyes. "Would he ever! But I wouldn't be particularly inclined to let him know about it, neh?" He shoots Sophia a 'look'. No need to have beer-boy nagging the friendly neighborhood Gnawers.

Bernie's brow furrows a little, as she thinks this over. "Hops?" she asks, taking another sip, and reopens the fridge, dragging out several foil-wrapped leftovers and eyeing them critically. "That one, I heard it called Open Seal, sometimes I call it Open Ses'me... works on all =sortsa= shit, not just bottles. Raggie gift," She straightens to peer over the door at Corey, "...so =you= might learn it, sometime. Soph, dunno."

Sophia shrugs. "I've got my eye on one I heard of, Sense Weaver. I wanna prove once and for all there's something wrong with those damn calculator things everybody carries around. I /hate/ those things. Oh, and Hops is our other cub. So named because he likes beer, and hops out of windows."

Corey shakes his head. Some of this is passing over his head. "So, how do you get these... abilities? I'm guessing like all the rest of this stuff, there aren't books titled, "30 Days To A More Gifted You," or whatever." He pauses. "Okay, nevermind, same answer as all the rest of this, right? Talk to the elders?"

Bernie leans against the counter, and smirks slightly. "What, I'm not elder 'nough for ya?" she asks, her mock-indignation not managing to convey any real rancor. "It d'pends, I think. We teach 'em to each other a lot, but you c'n also learn 'em from spirits. When I Rited, I ended up with one that way. But, yeah, you're gonna wanna ask your tribal elderly types sp'cifically. So. We got steak, macaroni an' cheese, ribs, an' salmon, only," she regards one packet again, "...it's gettin' on a bit, I dunno 'f I'd trust it."

Corey glances at Sophia, moves a little closer and whispers what seems like a question.

Sophia is pleased as punch watching the two joke back and forth, laughing quietly at the volley. Whatever the other cub said elicits another little snicker, but no reply. "Corey here doesn't even know what his restrictions are, that's how bad it is. The only reason I started teaching these guys what I know is that we can't find anyone else. I usually go out to the Bawn and just look around for people when I have a question or need some training. I don't mind so much, really. The big guys have important stuff on their minds." She thinks for a bit on the question of food, then says, "I don't so much care, I'm not all that hungry. He's the one with an opinion, I'd guess."

Corey ventures, "How're the ribs? Actually, just bring 'em out, I'm hungry enough to eat 'em raw or rancid right now." He pauses, and looks to Sophia. "Bawn? And you never did get around to saying what a Sept was, since Hops got full of himself right then."

Bernie rearranges the packages -- one goes into the trash -- and pulls down a couple plates. "Want it warm?" she asks, fiddling with the oven controls.

Sophia shudders and grimaces at the mention of the unpleasant afternoon. "The Sept, that's all the Garou in a city, sort of a town council, with a heirarchy like a pack. And the Bawn, that's the whole area around the Caern. Because see, they can't have normals just bumbling into the Caern, ya'know? So they protect the whole area around it. It's mostly woods, but there's also some buildings out there, like the farmhouse. That's where most cubs have to live."

Corey nods. Realizing that's not helpful since Bernie's probably not looking at him, he adds, "Please." Returning his attention to Sophia, he notes, "But not us."

Sophia nods once. "That's right. We live in the safehouse. And... don't the gnawer cubs live in the city, too?"

Bernie nods, putting the ribs in the oven and running a hand through her curls. She sips some more of her beer, and nods, leaning against the counter in wait. "Yeah, well, Gnawer cubs, we kina get around. Gotta longer leash'n mosta th' others, as it were. I spent a lotta time at th' Farmhouse, but I was never =kept= there, if y'know what I mean. Once I got th' basics down I was pretty much free t' roam. 'Til then, we tend t' keep cubs at Signe's, she's th' one y'met t'day, as I'm sure y'recall, or in th' Church. Or maybe here, but we haven't tried that yet."

Corey takes a deep breath. "Let me make sure I have all this straight. A Caern is a place of spiritual power. The Bawn is the boundary around the Caern at which intruders are denied. The Sept is a large group of Garou organized to defend the Bawn, and more specifically, the Caern. A Sept is made up of several Packs, who each have their own territories either around the Bawn or in some other location worth defending. Did I miss any other organizational details?"

Sophia grins widely. "A whole lot of details, yeah, but that's an excellent overview. Well put!" She claps quietly, her grin refusing to fade.

Corey bows in his seat. "Thankyew, thankyew, I'll be performing at the Walker house all this week..." He picks up his untouched can of cola and pops it open, taking a drink.

Bernie heads to the couch, bearing (with some difficulty) her bottle and both plates of now-warm ribs, with some veggies and warmed up rice on the sides. She passes one to Corey, and flops into the free corner of the couch with the other. "You sure you're not hungry?" she asks Sophia, and continues immediately, "...anyway th' way you guys said you're learnin'? That's how I ended up doin' mosta mine, honestly. I mean, my elders're kickass, but there was this period they were real busy, y'know? For a while, a lotta my teachin', Matt act'ly did. Which, y'know, some people consider cubs teachin' cubs bad form, but my tribe gen'rally cares more what works than what looks impressive, y'know?"

Corey mixes the veggies with the rice and checks to see if the ribs have sauce to spare. He moves as much as he can to the forming mess, and starts nibbling the ribs he picked up. "Hey, pretty good. Who made these originally?" Further questions appear to be on hold pending the conclusion of this meal, as he downs it with a will.

Sophia pops open her own can and nods as Bernie speaks. One thing you can count on Gnawers for, they aren't judgmental. "Only problem is, I'd think, when you've got a cub teaching a smartassed cub. Or at least, that's my experience. Corey's the only one of the three I've had no violent feelings toward so far, and it hasn't been a week yet."

Bernie grins. "An' him a raggie?" She fixes the boy cub with a stern glare, "You oughta be ashamed. Whatcha gotta say for yourself?" The grin reappears promptly, and she sips the Guinness again, giving the liquid level a critical assessment. Might need another one, soon. "...Matt made th' ribs, orig'nally. I made th' rice, which's why there's enough t' feed an army. All th' recipes I know are enough t' feed my family..." She leans back into the cushions, plate in lap, and asks matter-of-factly, "...so th' other two. C'n you kick their asses?" before starting in on a rib.

Sophia sips thoughtfully. "Dizzy I could take down, no problem. Hops, I dunno. He looks pretty fast. He actually challenged me today, y'know that? I turned him down, cuz I already know what the bosses would say. We got it resolved though, without a challenge. Actually, Dizzy and I have it resolved, too.... John smacking me made her realize it could happen to her."

Corey stops eating and looks at Sophia with surprise. "Why, Spot, I do believe that's the nicest compliment I've been paid since I moved to this town," he adds after swallowing. "Although, maybe you ought to rough me up a little, get me to change already." He bows his head at the admonishment. "I am sorry, rhya. I shall endeavor to annoy the shit out of Sophia at every opportunity that presents itself from now onward." Grinning, he raises his head back up. "I don't know if I could handle Hops... we'd probably end up Firsting on each other."

Bernie pauses, sets her rib down, chews, swallows, and wipes her hands and mouth with a paper towel before she speaks. Polite Gnawer. "...you haven't changed yet?" she inquired of Corey, with some surprise. Quite a bit of it, actually.

Corey shakes his head, having not yet returned to his own food. "That whatchamacallit... spirit got intercepted by Kaz before I could change on my own and rip apart some mugger or whoever managed to piss me off enough. Since then, I've been annoyed, irritated, and frustrated, but apparently not enough to trigger something."

Sophia frowns a little, and then smirks. "Maybe if we just sneak up behind him and yell 'OOGABOOGAH!', it'll cure itself? Like hiccups?"

"Huh," Bernie remarks noncommittally, giving Corey a slow onceover. "Anneka," she says then, "did it by herself. Thinkin' hard 'bout it, concentratin', imaginin' herself as a wolf, allat? Worked. Might try that, yeah?" She glances around, then gives him another appraising look, this one very careful, before adding, "...I s'pose Sophia an' I could try t' piss y'off enough, too. But Anneka's way, fewer things get broken."

Corey blinks and gazes first at Bernie in amazement, then at Sophia accusingly. "You said the only things that set it off were rage and terror. So what's this, then?" He sits back and grumbles. "Shoulda figured. Kaz did mention something about there being a less destructive way, but to ask my tribe about it." He snorts and returns to his food, breaking off briefly to say, "But I think I still want some backup clothes for this..."

Sophia covers her eyes. "Oh, God, I'm sorry! I meant to go pick something up for you. But if your clothes weren't so... lived in, you could just have someone do that Rite on you, for the clothes."

Corey sighs and puts his plate down on the table, and looks down at his shirt and pants. Lived-in is definitely the word. "Okay, whatever. Regardless, I just want some /proof/." Sure that that's going to be misinterpreted, he clarifies. "So far all the indications I have of being a werewolf myself are some weird dream interpretation, and being told I had a spirit attached to me, both of these by people with strong possibilities of ulterior motive or even possibly weak grasps on reality. I'm sorry, but I do have to entertain the idea that I've been lied to this whole time until I have something that undeniably proves the conclusion, so that I can truly believe everything else." There, he's said it. It might not ultimately make sense, but that's as far as his logic's progressed at this point.

Bernie looks Corey over once more. At this rate she's going to wear him out. "...okay. Here's a plan. You try th' meditate an' concentrate plan, an' if you get it t' work, you c'n borrow somea Matt's clothes 'til you get new ones an' have 'em dedicated, yeah? You're not that diff'rent in size, I don't think. An' he prolly won't kill me for lendin' somethin' out." She drains the rest of her beer, and sets the empty on the table. "An' I know whatcha mean about the proof. It took me a li'l time too, an' I wasn't sure they di'n' have th' wrong girl, either. Hell, I wasn't even dreamin' of wolves. But. Try this, an' if we can't get it to work, I might have another idea vis-a-vis proof, too."

Sophia finishes off her coke and sets it aside, watching Bernie to figure out what scheme she's got planned.

Corey considers this plan. "I was going to try it back at the house, but I guess here's as good as anywhere, right?" He takes off the blazer Sophia loaned him. "Here you go..." After a moment, he also strips off his shirt and lays it out over the back of the couch carefully, and lays his glasses on top. At least he can preserve that much without this becoming totally embarrassing. He steps into a more open area of floor. "Okay. Concentrate. Right." He closes his eyes, and tries to focus.

Bernie takes the opportunity to go get another beer. Damn that Fianna influence. "...a'ight," she says in something resembling soft, soothing tones, as she walks, "...try t' do it calmly. Think about wolves, think about your body -- I mean, feel it, where your fingers are, where your toes are, know where it all is, if that makes any sense. If you start getting frustrated, or angry... well, either fight it or let it flow. The latter might make it easier..." She trails off, not continuing the 'but'. Oddly, she's stopped dropping sounds and syllables, for the moment.

Sophia is mildly surprised that Bernie is using much the same tactic that she used when coaching Dizzy in changing. She glances occasionally at Corey, not wanting to watch for too long in case he happens to just pop right into Glabro and right out of his clothes.

Corey cracks open an eye, half-realizing he should be expecting some sort of trick from the other ragabash. But the stuff that's too weird to be true, is, and the mundane is a lie, so he closes the eye again and tries to concentrate on how he feels. He examines his body in the mind's eye, stretching and contracting muscles, swinging ligaments, feeling the pressures they apply to his skin and bones, how he senses everything... and then how he imagines they'd all feel in a wolf's body, the ruffle of fur over skin, the position of his tail, the expanded range of scents and sounds... and something inside him breaks.

Bernie is midsip as the cub unfolds, and breaks into a wide grin as she swallows, setting the new bottle down with a swiftness and almost grace that seem a bit out of place on her. "Kickass!" she exclaims, keeping her eyes on Corey just in case he takes it less calmly than Anneka did. "Well done. See? There y'are... don't try t' talk, you won't be able to, yet. Just check it out..."

Sophia glances over when Bernie exclaims, and smiles, ecstatic. "Corey! Just.... look at you! HehaaAA! Awesome!"

Corey opens his eyes... and blinks. Then he crosses his eyes to try to get the tip of his own muzzle into focus. Once a sense of vertigo kicks in on that, he uncrosses and looks down... at the shreds of his jeans around his feet, and the natural result of that. Oops. To distract himself from that little problem, he examines himself all over... hands, arms, legs, tail. This will take some getting used to.

"Careful when you try t' walk," Bernie recommends, reclaiming her drink since it doesn't look like the cub's going to trash the place, "...th' balance's kina funny at first. Your tail ends up bein' ballast, but if you try an' look at it an' control it on purpose, you'll prolly fall over." She plops back down on the sofa, getting comfortable, and watches the exploratory process.

Sophia tilts her head and looks at Corey. "I guess the moving part is easier if you're trying to rip someone's throat out. Less thinking about it. Not.... that I'd suggest that, though."

Corey looks to Bernie, and nods. He makes walking motions with two fingers of one hand, and moves the other in a wave pattern. Then he stops and looks for something in particular, and once he thinks he sees it, tries moving slowly toward the bathroom. Gotta be a mirror in there.

"Yeah, all throats in this 'partment are t' r'main precisely b'tween their owner's chins an' shoulders, an' that's non-negotiable," Bernie agrees casually, watching the Crinos. "...watch your head!" she adds as he heads toward the bathroom door.

Sophia chuckles. "I've been trying to tell them about how a person can go crazy, but I don't think any of them really believes me yet. I think I'm not using the right words, or something. 'Psycho' is the best I can come up with at the moment." She leans forward to get a better look at Corey's attempt to reach the bathroom, shaking her head and smiling.

*KLONK* Yipe! Too much walking, not enough looking where he's going. He ducks the second time and, after rubbing his head, gets a good look at himself in the bathroom mirror. Pretty soon, there's an odd sound coming from the WC. It sounds somewhat like a pant, a yip, and a whine, in a strange staccatto.

Bernie arches a brow, unable to see just what's going on from where she's half leaning over the back of the couch. She stands, and wanders over to check things out. After all, it's the only bathroom they've got.

Sophia glances at Bernie with wide eyes and follows, curious. "You Ok in there, pup?" she calls.

Anyone who gets a good view in will find that Corey seems to be perfectly fine, physically. He's just crouched by the sink and leaning gently on the wall, and from his expression, if he was homid at the moment, he would be laughing so hard he was crying. Once he sees he's attracted an audience, he tries to get back up and walk out of the bathroom -- clocking himself on the door frame again, but he doesn't seem to mind.

Bernie winces lightly in sympathy at the bonk, and regards the cub thoughtfully again. "'kay, looks like you got this down a'ight for now... you c'n practise more later, obviously. You wanna try an' go all th' way through inta lupe, or try an' come back t' homid?"

Sophia belly-laughs at seeing Corey in this state. "You're not /that/ funny looking, Cor... just... /sorta./" She winks at him and walks back to the living room, laughing and shaking her head. "Here, then... since you can't talk, hold up one finger for homid, two for lupus."

Corey quiets his laughter down, though a grin remains. He considers... lupus may be fun, but right now he's just happy he can shift and doesn't want to try messing with four legs. One finger comes up, and he goes back into the bathroom -- ducking this time. The door almost closes.

Bernie laughs, softly, and shakes her head. She disappears into one of the bedrooms -- the one with the actual bed, not just the sleeping bag and nest of blankets -- and rummages though the dresser therein. When she emerges, she's got a pair of rather old, worn jeans and a plain white t-shirt that's been washed a few too many times and gone to that odd tinge of grey. She snags his old shirt and his glasses from the table on her way... he can take his pick. Leaning lightly against the bathroom door, she knocks. "Ding dong, Avon calling. 'f you're human again, I got clothes for ya."

Sophia grimaces a bit as Bernie picks up Corey's shirt, doubting he still wants it. "You need coaching to get back to Homid, there, Corey?"

A plain human hand affixed to a plain human arm reach out blindly and grope for the clothes. Once he realizes that's not working, Corey's face shows in the crack between door and frame. "Thanks," is said as he takes the jeans, glasses, and both the shirts. "Hey, a question." The sound bounces much before leaving the bathroom, slightly distorted. "I was aiming for lupus. So how'd I end up in crinos?"

Bernie leans against the doorframe, idly nursing her Guinness as she answers. "I hear some people do lupe first, but mosta us, it's crinos. It's kina... y'know there's five forms an' all? 's th' midpoint an' th' closest major stoppin' point, if y'will... my theory's it's just sorta th' most natural t' end up in when you're first tryin'. Not so far t' go as lupus."

Sophia nods in agreement with Bernie and yawns. "I hate to crash a party, but I wanna check on those other two. If John's not home yet, they're there alone. Are you about ready, Corey?"

Corey walks out of the bathroom, wearing the jeans, white T and his glasses, and with the black shirt folded up. As much as he talks about burning it, that's all it is. He slips his shoes on, grabs what he can from the pockets of the destroyed pants, and snags his watch with a murmured curse at his own idiocy for breaking the band. "Yeah, I'm ready now. Hey, Bernie, thanks for everything, and I do mean everything. We'll have to do this again sometime." The last statement is followed by a wink.

Bernie grins, and shrugs a tad dismissively, with... is that the ghost of a blush? If so, it passes quickly, at least. "Hey, no prob. Yeah, stop by sometime; far's I r'member, y'all are kina short on non-cub Raggies, right? So =someone's= gotta raise you up right." She pushes up from the doorframe and heads across the room to unlock the main door. "You're welcome pretty much anytime, jus' knock first. Or call." There's no phone evident in the room. "Botha you, I mean." She stifles a yawn, and glances toward the oven clock in the kitchen, looking briefly worried as she catches the time.

Sophia picks up her bag on the way to the door and stops halfway for some final words. "I really appreciate this, Bern. there's only so much I can do, you know? And sorry I've been slacking over there the last few weeks, with that thing... maybe we'll talk later about recruiting some bodies." She flicks her eyes toward Corey as if indicating that she's volunteering him for something.

Corey, completely oblivious to the glance, heads around Sophia and opens the door for her. He smiles back at Bernie again. "I'm in your debt." He yawns. "I am also in trouble if I don't get to a bed soon, because sleeping on the stairs down will be awkward. Good night!" And he starts down the steps.

Bernie catches the glance, and considers it, nodding slightly. "Maybe so," she agrees, and runs her free hand through her curls again, wearily. "I'll catch you guys 'round soon 'nough, I'm sure. Night!"

Sophia waves and heads out the door with a sleepy smile.