"...three times. So, when he called t'day," Bernie relates her story, sounding a bit exasperated, as she unlocks and opens the door, letting the cub inside, "I borrowed Mario's little tape recorder he uses for lectures, y'know? An' so this time, I r'corded th' order on it, an' when th' delivery guy went, sure 'nough, this guy tries t' say we got his order wrong an' he oughta get th' pizza free. Again. So Frank, he was deliverin', he pulls out th' tape recorder an' plays th' order back to th' guy, an' of course it's right. Said th' guy went =bright= red an' all huffy, thrust a twenny at him and slammed th' door."

Matt is already stretched out on the sofa, tired. He doesn't look unhappy, but you'd think the new Fianna elder would be a /little/ more excited.

Dizzy laughs, walking into the room, "Oh geeze, _that_ is funny." Looking around the place critically, she asks, trying to sound as nice as possible, "So, this is where you live?"

"Yup!" Bernie replies brightly, clicking the locks shut behind her, and looks to her packmate, sprawled on the couch, tilting her head at him. "Hey. 'sup, you? How'd th' mooting go?" She heads over and sits down more delicately than usual -- probably because the seat she's taking happens to be on top of his stretched-out legs -- and awaits the news eagerly. A gesture to the various places one can sit accompanies a quick glance to the cub, "...make yourself at home..."

Matt looks up as the lock pops, smiling wanly at Bernie, then furrowing his brow suspiciously at the new arrival. "Sierian's Elder. Rusty an' Oi are beta." His looks says there are lots of things he's leaving out.

"Hello," Dizzy says to the couch lounger. She takes a seat as offered and introduces herself, "My name's Dizzy. Sometimes called Spins-in-Circles and most recently Protects-Others-From-Themselves. Ragabash Glass Walker cub."

"Matt Fulton. Heals-th'-Breach, Speaks-in-Circles. Philodox cliath and Beta of the Fianna. Well, as of now."

Bernie's forehead furrows as well, at that news. "Who's Seirian?" she asks, arching a brow a little, and then shrugs, with a light shake of her head, and pauses, as if considering comments, and shakes her head once again, pushing the curls back behind her shoulder. "...So, yeah, I was gonna get t' introductions next, but that seems handled. Dizzy had somethin' she wan'ed t' talk t' me 'bout, I guess....?" A prompting, curious look to the cub, and then, suddenly, "...eithera you want somethin' t' drink or somethin'?"

Matt says "Oi'll intraduce ye sometime, Books. She'll probably be callin' an' stoppin' by pretty frequently. An' Rusty. Redhead. Ragabash. You should get along, neh?" The question registers. "Water fer me. Oi've 'ad me share o' stella this evenin'.""

"No thank you," Dizzy politely declines, holding up a hand in a gesture of refusal. "Sophie suggested I talk to you about raggie-type stuff. It originally came up when we were going to prank Corey, but couldn't figure out how to get into the boys' room. She said you knew some sort of trick for getting through doors or something. Maybe something to do with the Umbra? I don't remember."

Bernie nods, and pushes back to her feet, wandering to the kitchen and going about the assembly of a glass of water. "Mm," she remarks noncommittally to the descriptions, before going on to reply to Dizzy, "...yeah, 's a gift. Good for openin' all sortsa things, not jus' doors. 'f your elders say 'sokay, I could try an' teach ya it, p'raps."

"Well, I'm still a cub," Dizzy explains, "So I can't learn gifts yet." She shrugs, "It wasn't just that. Sophia speaks highly of you. She said it would be good for me if I were to see you. For learning generally how to be a ragabash."

Matt gladly accepts the glass ofd water, but heads in the general direction of the bedroom. "Wish Oi could stay up, but Oi 'ave ta hit he corn in the mornin'. Did get instructions from Adam though. You're supposed ta lie to me every once in a while, while Oi'm practicin' Truf o' Gaia."

"Oh," Bernie says, somewhere between disappointed and startled, before continuing apologetically, "I'm 'fraid I can't do that..." She drops back into her seat on the couch, and opens her soda.

"Pleasure ta meet ye...Dizzy," the newly minted Beta says. "Books, see you later?" He stumbles to the bedroom, closing the door almost all the way.

"Nice to meet you, too," Dizzy returns, giving Matt a slight nod of her head.

Bernie hmms, watching the door. "Not very good at it yet, is he?" she remarks idly to the cub before curling her legs up beside her and sipping her soda. "So, okay," she says, looking back to the girl, "...yeah, I c'n teach you Raggie stuff, 'f you want, sure. An' I learned th' gift as a cub, but if you guys aren't allowed, a'ight. What d'you wanna know?"

The inquiry is met with a blank stare from the cub. "Actually," she admits sheepishly, "I have barely a clue of what I am supposed to do, as a werewolf. I've heard we're supposed to be sneaky, or be scouts or something. But... how do we accomplish this? Lianne asked me what I would do if I got in another situation like in the alley, I don't know if you've heard of that, and I told her I'd run again. Is there anything else we can do?"

Bernie sips her soda again, gives it an accusing look, and stands again, sticking it inside the fridge and then returning with a bottle of Guinness from atop it. Resettling, she sheds her jacket, then shoots the bottlecap a terribly dominant glance. The thing pops off and up about six inches, and she snatches it casually out of the air as it falls. "I dunno," she replies, then, "...what was th' situation?" A sip of the beer; it apparently meets with more approval.

Dizzy explains, pointedly not looking at Bernie, "Corey, I think you've met him, and I were walking down the street and we were attacked by this gang. We were just going to look for a way to get away when this wyrmthing showed up. John, Sophie and Alicia showed up to fight it, and all Corey and I could do was run."

"Okaaaaaay....?" Bernie replies, prompting, and leans into the arm of the couch, getting properly comfortable.

"Is that all we can do?" Dizzy asks, "Run, that is." She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, "The Litany says we've got to fight the Wrym, but there is no way Corey and I are going to be able to fight anything."

"Well, 'course not, but... details are important, y'know? From what little y'gave me, I can't tell if there's anythin' you coulda done but run. An' sometimes..." Bernie pauses, pushing a curl behind her ear, "...sometimes, runnin's th' best thing you c'n do. Us, raggies, we're th' scouts, not th' tanks. If we can't handle somethin' ourselves, 's better that we run, grab some backup, an' bring 'em in apprised, rather'n gettin' killed AND then someone else hasta handle it without th' benefit of our recon, whether we meant t' find it or not, If y'follow."

Dizzy nods slowly, still a bit visually confused, "Yeah, I suppose. So we're not supposed to fight?"

Bernie shakes her head. "Oh, hell no. We fight. We =all= fight, whatever auspice. But, y'know, we got roles, yeah? Things our moon makes us better at than other people. We're alla us warriors, but, like Ahrouns, they're th' warriors of th' warriors, that's why they get pissed off so easy, I figure. But even an Ahroun, facin' too big a force, he's gonna do more =good= gettin' help than gettin' killed. See what I mean?"

Dizzy looks a lot less confused as she hears this. Her silence is broken by a ringing eminating from her coat pocket. "Excuse me," she apologizes, removing her cellphone from the pocket. "Hello?" she asks.

Bernie makes a negligent little wave of her hand, a 'go ahead' gesture, and sips her drink, glancing about the room. It's rude to stare at people on the phone, after all. Heck, even off the phone.

"I'm over at Bernie's right now. Whatcha need?" Dizzy asks into the phone. She listens for a second a responds with a giggle, "Talk about Macs? Jer, you are impossible. I can't really go out though. I need an escort and all, still, you know." Dizzy covers the cellphone with a hand and says to her host, "Jeremy says hi." She uncovers the phone and continues into it, "Well, if you want to come over later, that'll be fine."

Bernie half-smiles, unable to ignore the conversation, and eyes the wall, where one cna just make out various pencil lines starting to define... something. At the comment, she looks to the cub, surprised. "Oh, well, tell 'im I say hey, then."

Continuing to speak to the phone, and getting a tad impatient, "Yeah, hooked up to the TV in the rec room," Dizzy says, "Bernie says hi." She rolls her eyes and looks at the ceiling, "Not particularly. But that's okay. Bring over whatever you like." She mouths the word 'sorry' to Bernie.

Bernie doesn't seem too put out, just waiting quietly and making significant inroads on her brink.

"It really doesn't matter," Dizzy says. She pauses and adds, "Think of this as a test." She laughs at the response, "Yeah. Are you up to it?" Another pause as she listens to the voice on the other end, "Okay. So I'll call you when I get back to the safehouse, then? Dizzy smiles as the phone conversation is finally concluded. "Bye," she says simply before turning off the phone and dropping it back into her jacket pocket. "I am _so_ sorry," she apologizes, explaining, "Jer wanted to get together later."

"Sorta guessed that," Bernie says, with a half-smile, and turns her attention back to Dizzy. "A'ight. So. You get what I'm sayin' about how sometimes, runnin' =is= th' best thing you c'n do, an' not just for you, right? But you gotta use your judgement... somethin' small, somethin' you c'n take out with th' force you have, us'ly you oughta do it."

Dizzy nods, getting back into the flow of conversation. "Yeah, I see what you mean. If we can take it, then do it. Otherwise go get help, right?"

Bernie nods. "'zactly. I mean... if there's a time it looks like it might be a close thing, but if you go get help things'll get much worse... like I said, it's always a judgement call. Soon 'nough you'll be able t' handle a lotta things you can't as yet, though."

"I guess our jobs aren't as well defined as I thought. Basically, everyone does what they are capable of, then?" Dizzy asks.

Bernie laughs, leaning back in the cushions. "Well. Kina suck if we were all doin' what we =weren't= capable of..." She stretches her legs out, eyeing her boots, and then curls them back onto the pillows. "Here... tell me th' auspices. Tell me what they do, why they're important, a'ight? So I c'n see 'f there's things you oughta know in there."

Dizzy chuckles a bit, realizing the obvious stupidity of her last comment, "Okay. There's the Ahrouns, which are the warriors and are granted the most raw power so they can battle the Wyrm. The Galliards are the storytellers and the keepers of garou history, so we don't forget and can learn from the past. The Philodoxes..." she pauses a second, "they are the judges, to interpret the laws and make sure they are enforced. The Theurges are the spirtual guides, who traffic with the beings that live in the Umbra. And finally, the Ragabashes, who are..." Another pause. "We're supposed to question the ways. But I'm not completely sure how we're supposed to do that."

Bernie sips her drink for a few moments, silently, as she debates how to approach it. "Well," she begins, "...t'me, basically, th' =root= of it all, is we gotta think. Non-linear, outside th' box, question authority, allat. Not so much we're stupid... we =need= authority, we =need= a hierarchy, or it turns inta anarchy, an' we don't work t'gether, an' th' enemy wins. But. For example. If th' leader makes a decision, an' we see how it might make things worse... or we have an idea we think'll fix a flaw... in my 'pinion, it's our job t' speak up, t' let th' Alpha of th' situation know. An' if he or she rejects it, then it's our job t' swallow our pride, do what they say, an' hope t' hell we were wrong, or it was only a minor flaw. That's one thing. People get too fulla themselves, that c'n be danger for everyone, make 'em careless, so one of our responsibilities is poppin' th' ego bubble, bringin' 'em back down to reality." She pauses, wetting her throat.

Dizzy places her hands together, and leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands. She listens intently, thinking about what she's hearing.

Bernie takes a breath, and goes on. "That's a place pranks an' shit come in, obviously. 'cause if we c'n get past their defenses in play... y'know th' Wyrm can too, an' it ain't playin'. 'nother thing we do, or 'least I think we should, is defuse situations that aren't gonna do anyone any good, best we can. I mean, I'm not always th' best at this, but sometimes, th' right wisecrack or comment at th' right time c'n make people realise they're bein' stupid. An' we can't afford t' be stupid. Lessee. Right: so, also, we're th' scouts an' sneaks an' thieves, which's morea where we gotta think. I mean, 's all well t'barge in somewhere, guns blazin', sometimes that's effective, but sometimes you wanna do somethin' =quiet=. That's us, too, 'less it's a spirit thing."

Dizzy nods, standing up, "Okay, I think I get it now. Thanks a lot. I'm going to need some time to think about all of this."

Bernie nods, tossing a mock salute to the cub. "Any time. In fact, really, any questions, feel free. Seein' as y'all don't have any cliath raggies 'round t' do it." She drains the remains of her drink, and then flashes Dizzy a rather teasing little smile, "...have fun with Jer'my."

"Oh, don't get the wrong idea, Bernie. I'm just trying to make sure Jeremy feels welcome over at the safehouse. After Hops yelled at him in Glabro and Sophia dumped him, he hasn't felt very welcome. He's almost ran back to Portland, like, three times already," Dizzy explains.

Bernie laughs, and stands, carrying the empty to the kitchen. "Mmm, 'kay. Have fun regardless..." A clang of glass on metal, and she strolls back toward the door, flipping the locks to let the cub out.

Dizzy nods her head to Bernie as she heads for the door, "Thanks again, I'll call you if I have anymore questions."