There's a knock, a pause, then a few more raps on the door.

"Sec, hold on!" comes a female voice from inside, "Who is it?"

"Me, I think. Are you Bernie this time?" Male voice, fairly quiet. Odd question, though.

A very slightly irritated voice calls back, "'Me' will have to be more specific if he wants specifics on who =this= Me is, let alone to be let in." You'd think she could just look through the peephole.

The voice from outside seems more amused than annoyed. "Cutting the crap, yes'm. It's Corey. I need to talk to Bernie, if she's in."

There's the sound of the locks snicking back, then, one after the other, fairly quickly. "Bernie hasn't been 'in' since nin'y-five, when she 'found' that stasha pogs," the voice replies, casual, annoyance gone. "'s open," it adds, a bit redundantly.

The door swings open slowly and Corey shows his face, looking around to make sure this is the right apartment this time before entering. "Oh, good, then she won't have to deal with the fact I just annoyed her downstairs neighbors by accident. Or at least won't care."

Bernie is reclined comfortably on the couch, barefoot, a laptop on her lap, cellphone, beer, and books closely to hand on the coffee table. She lifts a hand lazily to wave a greeting, flashing the cub a grin. "They c'n deal. 'f that's th' worst they gotta deal with livin' b'low college students, they're lucky. How goes?"

Corey closes the door behind him and engages a lock before answering. "It's going all right, overall, I guess. We cubs have been released to seek out new life and new civil... wait." He makes motions as if shuffling papers in his hands and examining them. "Wrong script. Seeking teachers, and wandering the Caern, as long as we don't get into trouble." He sighs. "It can be fuck-all difficult to find anyone with time and knowledge out there, and I hate being alone, so I decided to see if you could help." He finally registers where Bernie is and what's around her. "Damn. I've seen geeks with less info at their fingertips."

"Mmm, boldly goin' where no cub's gone before, huh?" Bernie replies, "...an' how'd'ya know I'm not a geek? Shh though. Gotta protect th' rep. Y'know. 'cause I'm so kickass cool an' slick. Alla y'all wanna be me. Original pranksta, baby." She smirks, and stretches a little, finger clicking a couple quick keyboard shortcuts before she closes the laptop and sets it aside with the other things. It looks decently nice. A little startling for a Gnawer to have. "So, yeah, I got time an' I'm s'posta have knowledge; if you wanna have a seat we c'n see what we c'n do." She gestures vaguely to the kitchen, adding, "...though, y'know, feel free t' get somethin' t' eat or drink first, 'f y'want."

"If cubs haven't been here before, I'd be surprised." Corey declines the offer of eating and drinking and just sits down on the couch. Let the merry-making commence. "So, what can you tell me about the Ragabash thing? I've got a theory, but I'm a bit reluctant to eat toes at this time."

"So would I; it'd require some weird sci-fi plot t' explain. Implanted memories, et cet'ra. Anyhow..." Bernie shifts position enough that the cub actually =has= a spot to sit there, curling herself into her usual position in the corner. "we've got lotsa ketchup. Let's hear th' theory."

"Got any more of that barbeque sauce that was on the ribs?" Typical male, can't remember the right floor number but does remember food. "I've been watching and listening to the other cubs, gone along with their schemes, et cetera, and I realized... they really don't have a clue. They're not /thinking/ about what they're doing half the time." Corey pauses, straightening some wording in his mind. "If you're not thinking, you're blinding yourself to danger. And being blind to danger, in this line of work, means you're not only screwing yourself but anything and anyone you protect. So our job is to keep everyone's eyes open."

Bernie reclaims her Guinness from the table, and gives it a slightly suspicious look before taking a sip. Apparently it's still to her liking, since she doesn't put it back. There's a moment of silence before she looks over to Corey again, and grins. "Yes. That's definitely a big part of our job," ...did that just come out in proper English?... "...'course, other people don' always ='preciate= it much. 'cause they haven't thought it through t' see that. Aside from th' whole, y'know, embarrassment, fury, whatever th' result of it is, obviously." Ah, back to normal. "...'s th' part I think a lotta =us= even have trouble gettin' our heads around."

Corey grins sheepishly and leans back. "I just took what little I understood of people and applied it to Garou. That is, most people would rather leave the thinking to someone else, right? Ignorance is bliss. Stupidity is deadly. So happiness is sacrificed for the sake of keeping life going." A pause. "So, ridiculous question: how the hell do you get away with it?"

Bernie blinks once, and grins a little more. "Never heard anyone ask that, b'fore. 's a good question." A pause, "...an' I don' mean as in, I dunno, go ask someone else -- it really is." That said, she goes thoughtful, sipping her drink again. "....mmm, well. A'ight. I would say that's kinda an individual thing, really. Diff'rent people do it diff'rently. One thing we've got goin' for us far's that goes is we =are= Ragabash, an' ev'ryone knows we're =meant= t' pull shit that'd get other people's asses kicked six ways t' September. We've got a li'l latitude, t' start with. Beyond that, though... th' absolute =best= way t' get away with =anythin'=, auspice notwithstandin', is Don't Get Caught. An' past =that=... we've all got kina diff'rent styles of bein' a Ragabash, y'know? Like... hmm, 'side from Dizzy an' me, who've you met yet?"

Corey blinks and rolls his eyes ceiling-wards as he starts thinking back. "Umm. Besides you and Diz? I know Helen... oh, and that strange Fang cub, Jervis." A frown creases his face as he adds, "And of course the Theurge who thinks he's a Ragabash, Jonathan. Going to have to do something more than jack with his computer, I think. His attitude's going to kill someone one of these days." A slight smile. "With any luck it'll just be himself."

Bernie makes a face a little. "Damn. I dunno any of 'em enough t' use 'em as examples, really. So you'll prolly hafta settle for, use your judgement an' find out what you c'n get away with. So far, you seem way too bright t' getcherself killed figurin' that out." She sips again, then asks, "...What's th' deal with your theurgabash?"

Corey sighs as his lean turns more into a slump. "The guy's unbelievable. He apparently met some Theurge out at the Caern and now thinks he's the greatest thing to hit the Umbra since... since..." Memory fails him and he gestures unreadably. "Gah. John and Roger took him, Dizzy and me into the city's Umbra the other day, and do you know what the idiot did? He tried to talk to a freaking pattern spider. When the elders told him to get away, he /walked/. He managed to act all nonchalant when he was struck for copping an attitude, but only because he had taken some painkillers beforehand. Damn that guy's an asshole," he finishes, shaking his head.

"He... took painkillers first?" Bernie asks, taken aback. "...expecting to get hit? That's... I can't d'cide whether t' be appalled or impressed. Prolly di'n' do a hell of a lot for his =judgement=, though. Yeah. He sounds like he could use a lesson or two, for his own good an' everyone else's... but you're right about messin' with his computer not bein' enough. There's pranks, an' there's pranks. Some you c'n jus' do for fun, but th' ones that're, like, our duty, they need t' fit th' behaviour that needs modifyin'. Y'know?"

Corey nods. "Actually, I tagged his computer for kicking me when I was first in lupus, since it seemed like a quick and dirty way to get back at him for a quick and dirty act, but this... damn. He has Issues with Authority," the cub proclaims, the capitals clearly pronounced. Consideringly, he asks, "What would be your style? I mean, how might you take care of the situation?"

Bernie thinks about it, quietly. "Hmm. Well. I can't be specific, 'cause I don't know him, really. Or, like, at all. But. I'd start from what th' problem is, far as I'm concerned, an' then I'd start thinkin' what might solve it. Like, maybe gettin' in way over his head an' havin' t' be bailed out by those authorities'd get th' point across. So, say I d'cided that, next thing t' do is figure out how t' make it happen. While coverin' my ass an' with any luck makin' sure he gets his ass kicked for gettin' inta that situation to need th' help, too, if all goes well. That's th' harder bit, often."

Corey muses on this. "Looks like I need to find some danger to trip him into..." He shakes his head again. "But enough about Hops. He's a problem I'll put off for another day, gladly. Can you tell me about Gifts? You already showed me that opening trick, and I saw Daisy do something healing to Alicia, but aside from those... what else can you do?"

"Me specifically, or... in gen'ral, alla us?" Bernie asks, turning a bit in her seat.

Corey realizes he misphrased that question. "Well, eventually I'd like to know what everyone is capable of using, but for now, what can we, as no-moons, do?"

Bernie nods. "Okay. Well. There's a lot of Gifts out there, some based on auspice, some on tribe, an' some on what you're born as, I think. I dunno why, an' I don't think you c'n =never= learn ones that you don't techni'ly qualify for, but I dunno how it works, really. Maybe d'pends what th' spirits are feelin' like. Th' ones I know mostly we have are th' openin' gift, like I showed you, an' another one, Blur. Which is... it's =kina= like invisibility, only not, quite. It makes it hard for people t' notice you. Then there's another gift that's not jus' us, but is useful, which's Persuasion. Handy t' talk people into or outta things."

Corey raises an eyebrow. "Huh. Real-life SEP field. Sayyyyyy, d'ya know if that one works on video cameras? That's what caught me last stunt I pulled." He taps a finger to his chin. "And Persuasion sounds like it has potential, as well."

Bernie, sitting on the other end of the couch, grins broadly. "'zactly. Though it'll only work on yourself, your ship's outta luck. As for cameras... I dunno. There's a trick Elan knows, for makin' things like cam'ras not work, but that's not a raggie thing, 'cause he's a theurge. I dunno for sure who c'n learn that."

Kaz's knock is brief, and, somehow, cheerful.

Corey 's attempt at forming another statement is interrupted by the knock. With a querying glance to Bernie he gets up to peer through the lens, and gets a giant grin on his face. Opening the door with a flourish, he bows to Kaz. "Good afternoon, Kaz-uber-rhya."

Bernie laughs. "Uber-rhya! I like that. Better'n grand-rhya. Hiya, Mama Kaz. 'sup?" she asks, gesturing her Alpha in. "You want anythin' t' eat or drink? Kitchen's contents're free for th' takin'."

Kaz, as usual, looks slightly hunted at that name, but she nonetheless shoots both inhabitants of the apartment a grin. "Thanks, Bern. I was kinda bored, and kinda in the area, so lo, lack of boredom." She drifts into the kitchen, and, predictably, gets some Coke. "What's with you two?"

Corey 's grin only mildly abates. "I was looking for a raggie-rhya, and see!" He gestures at Bernie on the couch with one hand as he closes the front door with the other. "I succeeded in my Tracking roll, even using only my default skill level!" Feh, gamers.

Kaz looks from Bernie to Corey, as she flops down onto the floor, leaning against the couch. "It's a /disease/," she mutters.

Bernie's eyes widen a little as her head swivels to look at Corey again. "Oh, my god, I'd pretty much resigned myself t' bein' th' only gamer around here. We so hafta get some games going! ...anyway," she glances over to Kaz, "I gotta decent list, so far, 'f you were wond'rin'. An' Corey was jus' askin' 'bout Gifts, which, maybe you could tell him a li'l more 'bout? I still dunno what all raggies c'n learn."

Corey gasps in feigned shock. "What, all these people around here who believe they can turn into giant wolves with magic powers, and /nobody/ plays roleplaying games?" He winks and makes himself comfortable on the couch again. "Yeah, who gets what and who gives what to whom and why?" He pauses, then adds, "If that didn't make any sense just ignore it and go on with life."

Kaz says, "Cool. Me, I traded for a couple of 'em already. They're back at th' Rialto." At Bernie's question, she says, "Me?" vaguely incredulously, and immediately, of course, starts talking. "Well... You got the Blur and the lockpickin' one covered? Did ya mention the scentless one? Y'know, for alla those lupes sneakin' up on things? Anyways, those're the ones folks that ain't Fostern can learn. In addition t'homid gifts. An' Walker Gifts, which I for damn sure can't talk about. It's basically Gaia bein' kind t'all of us, but tryin' t'make sure we're all useful in some way, is the way I figure it."

"So we won't be botherin' with Lycanthrope: the Rapture," Bernie retorts dryly. "Nyah." Kaz's explanation surprises her briefly, "Scentless one? I di'n' know 'bout that..."

Corey gives Bernie a surprised look. "Now there's one I don't think I've seen. Dee-and-Dee and GURPS are the ones I've bothered to look into..." He quirks an eyebrow at Kaz. "Scentless? Geez, that'd give most Garou fits, wouldn't it? So what does your auspice get in the way of cool abilities?" He makes a mental note to ask the Walker elders about the tribe's gifts.

Kaz nods. "Yeah. It's a pretty good one, actually, given as it ain't just /Garou/ that track by scent. An' yeah," she adds, with a faint grin, "It's damn good if you're dealin' against Garou, too... So if you're blurred or whatever, and /really/ wanna be sure you ain't tracked, well, learn that one." She pauses at Corey's question. "Oh. People keep asking that..." She trails off, and looks the two of them over. And, in the territory of the mind, it's suddenly the Rialto. To Corey, of course, it just looks like a slightly run down theater, but Bernie may well recognize it as being far newer, far shinier, far /realler/. And there's Kaz, as ugly as ever, but perhaps slightly stronger, a little less slouched. She's perched on the stage, holding a flute that looks as if it would sound like it could melt butter. "This here's Mindspeak. You can just talk at people, of course, but y'can also create some real... well, mindscapes. Dependin' on what you're in the mood for."

Bernie, in this mindscape, looks a whole lot like Bernie, except a bit less attractive and notably plumper. And startled. Definitely. "...whoa. Cool! But weird. Distinctly weird," she decides, looking around. She touches a few things, picking them up to see how real it seems.

They are, given as this is a place Kaz knows very well indeed, quite solid. For those experimenting.

"Holymotheroffuckin'...!" Corey's reaction is quite a bit less calm, until he gets a look around and realizes there's nothing attacking him, or even threatening, it's just a theater room. Once his heart rate goes down, he breathes a sigh and mutters, "I always did hate teleport traps in games." More loudly he says, "Freaking awesome. This... is all in my head? Put here by you?"

Kaz just grins. A lot. "Yeah. This is all put here by me, although the way you look's somethin' you made. An' how you're talkin', an' stuff. If you wanted," her voice deepens, goes rougher, and sounds amazingly like Sean Connery, "You could sound like whatever you wanted." Reverting back to her original tones, she adds, "I don' much like that, though."

Bernie looks down at herself, at that, and considers. "You'd think I could do better," she remarks, but doesn't really seem to change in appearance for a few moments. Then she laughs, and turns into Jessica Rabbit, just long enough to coo, "I'm not bad... I'm just drawn that way."

Corey examines himself. He's barely changed, although his mental image seems a little behind in the fitness and fashion departments. "Hmm, if the way I look is a result of how I think I look, here..." He trails off, staring at his arm contemplatively, then shakes his head. "I could get too used to this. Best not to even start." He shoves the scrutinized hand into a pocket; perhaps something already changed.

Kaz says, "It's a goddam blast, is what it is. Although that /so/ ain't you, Bern. But," she adds, more soberly, "It's for that exact reason I only use this for emergencies. It could get... Seductive." She shakes her head, and breaks the connection. Her own alto, a little scratchy, adds, "I could just plain never leave."

Bernie nods. "Yeah, I know, I jus' always wan'ed t' do that..." She grins, and pushes a curl back behind her ear. "I dunno, though. Wouldn't wanna be there forever..." She trails off, thoughtfully. "...huh..."

Corey pulls his hand out for a moment and gives it a brief look of relief and longing, flexing the fingers. "That's one major mindscrew. You can bet if it was publicly available it'd have more junkies than -- well, pick a drug." He shakes his head and murmurs something to himself.

Kaz says, a little wistfully, "Yeah." She seems about to say more, but just shakes her head. "Anyway. I c'n talk t'animals, too, an' there's another Gift I wanna learn that lets you be audible for a goddam fuckin' long distance. There's a Gift I /could/ learn, now, that lets me fuck with other people's dreams. But... Same kinda thing as Mindspeakin'. I dunno if I could /stop/..."

Bernie rises from the couch, setting her bottle down. "'scuse me a few, yeah? I'll be back in a sec." She steps around Kaz, and disappears into the bathroom.

Corey shudders as he recalls a prior conversation with the Ahroun Walker. "You... you could imprison someone in their own mind like that, couldn't you? Not only could they not realize, they could actually /enjoy/ it..." He gets up from the couch and heads for the door. "Ah, if you'll pardon me, rhyas, this discussion... just took an odd turn I'd like to think about. Elsewhere." He pauses at the door, and adds to Kaz, "Could you thank Bernie for helping me figure things out, when she gets out of the bathroom?"

Kaz says, a little grimly, "Yeah. It's why I... don't. But ask him about the time he pulled a knife on me. Anyway, yeah," she adds, in lighter tones. "I'll tell her."

"Thanks." And with that, Corey's shutting the door behind him, footfalls rapidly fading away.