Evidently, Kaz has been downstairs for a bit. She emerges up the stairs, singing "We are the Champions" quite loudly. "I paid my dues... Time after time... I've done my sentence... But committed no crime..." There's a large Dagwood sandwich in her hand, and she's munching contentedly.

There's a strange creature on the dais, crazy, curly sandy hair brushing the dusty, aged floor as she walks in fits and starts on her hands, clunky shoes waving about in the air. Wiry muscles strain beneath pale, freckled skin, and her oversized t-shirt has slipped down enough to show much of her skinny middle. She puffs quietly, teeth clenched as she walks about like that. It's Anneka, in the midst of a handstand!

Yi opens the doors and shuts them quickly, moving off to the side of the doorframe momentarily before shaking her head and straightening her shoulders. She blinks at spottage of Kaz and Anneka, then waves. "Hey," she greets.

Kaz stops singing abruptly. "Well, aw/right/ then," she says, cheerfully. "Can y'do that one handed?"

"In glaaaabro, maybe," Anneka says, her voice muffled. "Hi, Yi!"

Yi comes down the center aisle, stopping to look at Anneka a bit more before nodding to Kaz. "Any of you seen Rotem lately? Or Marcus?" She reaches down to her pants and draws out one of the newspapers to hand over to Kaz.

Anneka tumbles to the floor where she sits, crosslegged and rubbing at her skinny arms. "Ow." Her hair's sticking out all over the place, and she's grinning. "That was fun." There's a cut on one elbow, bleeding a bit from where she might have banged it against the floor, but she doesn't seem to notice.

A bit grimly, Kaz says, "Rotem's in the woods." She adds, "I already got one've them. Nice description they got there."

Anneka blinks and pulls herself to her feet, padding over to look at the newspaper. Sandy brows go straight up. "Uh-oh."

Yi gives the paper to Anneka, before leaning against a pew and looking up at the rafters. "Did he tell you what happened?"

Kaz nods. "He did." The sandwich is forgotten in her hands. "I gotta talk to Elan."

Anneka furrows her brow a bit as she starts to read. The average newspaper these days caters to a fairly uneducated audience, but nevertheless the cub seems caught on some of them, whispering her way through them before continuing. Then she blinks and looks up. "I hope Marcus is okay."

Yi wets her lips a moment before sighing. "If anything, it is my fault for starting it." She looks back to Kaz, then runs a hand through her hair. "I was watching for awhile. The group was from the nightclub on Elson, beating on another from a different gang. One of the members of the gang who tried to take over the basement awhile ago. Rotem and I stopped them, but killed one." She looks at her hand. "There weren't any Veil breaches, to my knowledge. But...Marcus might be in danger of being caught, if not already."

Kaz sucks air in through her teeth. "Shit. Well. If he gets caught, we can see about springin' him. We got friends, after all."

The door opens, allowing the quiet entry of a song way too inappropriately cheerful for the state of affairs inside the church -- Cheeseburger in Paradise, specifically. Quickly following the voice is the source, as Bernie slips in, closing the doors again behind her.

Kaz glances over at Bernie, and waves her Dagwood at her. "Hey." She sounds... a little grim. "You seen the papers yet?"

Yi turns her gaze at the sight and sound of Bernie, waving briefly. "There were 5 killed, as you know. Two of them, by Leonard's hand, two by Rotem. Marcus ran over another one with a machine gun." She sighs again, looking upward and muttering something in Cantonese. "I am thinking, the police will be suspicious if we try to bail him. They are still searching for us."

Anneka glances over the door as it opens, eyes brightening as she catches sight of the ragabash. The corners of her mouth turn up into a faint smile and she waves, though the mood in the church seems to have given her a solemn edge as well. "Hi, Bernie."

Bernie blinks, the grin she was wearing fading rather as she takes all this in. "I take it we got problems," she remarks, wandering over, "....hey. No, I di'n' see th' paper yet..."

Kaz shrugs. "Yeah. Well. Just that Rotem's picture's bein' spread all over town as a murderer th' police're lookin' for." Glancing sharply at Yi, she asks, "Has Marcus actually been fuckin' arrested?"

Anneka leans back against a pew, scuffing her shoes a bit as she winces, then continues working her way through the article. "They-- really got a good look at him. Rotem. Even the sticker on his patch." She reaches up, pushing her hair away from her eyes. "Ow."

Yi furrows her brow and shrugs. "I don't know. I have been looking for his cab, but I don't know where he lives. And I'm afraid if I go looking for him, the police might be on the lookout for me as well. There are no suspicions in my direction though. Only Rotem is their main target."

Bernie winces, and looks over to Yi, awaiting the answer too, concerned. "...I know where he lives. I c'n go check on him..." She trails off, biting her lip lightly. "D'they know it was him? Or, I mean I 'ssume it was his cab he was drivin'?" A slight pause, "...an' a =really= good look? Like, a haircut an' dye job an' et cet'ra isn't gonna help, far as Rotorooter?" She leans over to see the paper.

Kaz adds, "An' I can find him even if he ain't at home." A little grimly, she adds, "It reads like a really /good/ description."

Yi shakes her head. "Rotem tried to get some of the others watching to move away." Her gaze lowers to her feet. "If they find him, his car is probably taken by the police. I doubt there are very many cars in St. Claire with their trunks full of machine gun bullets."

"I think they'd probably say somethin' if they caught him," Anneka says, quietly. "They like to let people know that they're doin' somethin, catchin' crim'nals. But they're prob'ly not sayin' everything, neither. Cops're pretty sneaky."

Bernie winces again. "He's a'ight, though, last y'saw him, right? Marcus, I mean. Rotem'd heal..." She trails off as she sees the sketch, and shakes her head. "...man. Maybe if we did, like, serious makeup work on him. Like, Star Trek kinda latex work. =An'= th' hair..." She sighs, scanning the full text quickly.

Kaz just shakes her head, silent.

The doors creak, and swing open as John stalks in, with a large roast pig slung over one shoulder. The Walker wears his usual grim mask of neutrality, but there's nothing to indicate a dark mood. In fact, as he sees the little Gnawer gathering, the corners of his mouth quirk upwards a little. "Greetings all. I bring a gift from the Walkers, in honour of your new cub."

Yi finds it necessary to sit down in the pew she was leaning on, staring over towards the dais. "I didn't tell you about the gang that tried to move into our basement, did I?" she says quietly. "There were ten I think, maybe more. Now I know they spoke Spanish, but I don't know what they said. He killed one, but I cleaned it up quickly." She pauses as looks towards the direction of the door, sinking down momentarily in paranoia.

John comes at a bad time, it seems. He sees the paper being held by Bernie, and his face falls into a sombre expression.

Kaz mutters, "Cub," as if it's a bit of a foreign word, and then suddenly grins at John. It's actually fairly sincere. "Hey, you."

Anneka blinks twice as she catches sight of the pig, balanced on the dark fellow's shoulder. "Oh," she says, quietly.

Bernie glances up at the entry, and despite the news, the corners of her mouth quirk up at the presentation of the pig. She regards John with some interest, never having seen him before, and summons up a full, acceptably sincere if a tad distracted smile of greeting for him. "Hey," she says, and glances down to Anneka. "...hmph," she adds to the cub, unconvincingly when-I-was-your-age, "all =I= got brought were Funyuns."

Yi glances up just briefly, the pig getting a wary eye before she sits back up with a short cough. "Hello John."

John nods at the two familiar faces, greeting them, "Yi. Kaz." and then inspecting the others. Finally, his gaze settles on the newspaper. And stays there for a while before returning to Kaz. "Not a good time?"

Kaz follows John's gaze to the paper, and then she meets his eyes, briefly. "It's as good a time as any, basically." She sounds... A little less grim.

Anneka glances to Bernie and blinks again, before she starts to giggle, quietly. Green eyes wander back to the pig, to the fellow carrying it. "Hi," she says quietly. "I'm Anneka. Half-moon cub of the 'Gnawers."

John inclines his head to Kaz, and gives a nearly imperceptible shrug before looking to Anneka and Bernie. "John... Smith." he states. "Walks-Thin-Ice. Ahroun Cliath of the Walkers. No Caern." He starts walking towards Anneka. "Don't eat it all at once." With that, he lowers the animal, and prepares to hand it over to the little girl.

Anneka's eyes get huge and round as the pig descends. She holds her skinny arms out. "Um," she says, quietly. "Thank you. But I don't think I could carry it." She looks about the church, perhaps for a place that may be suitable to deposit a roast pig.

Yi stands up stiffly, moving towards Anneka to help her with it. She's using what tense energy she has to go into the pig, smiling at Anneka. "We'll take it downstairs I suppose. Unless people want bacon?"

"Bernie Rosenberg," Bernie responds to the intro, "...Stomps-Th'-Wyrm-With-Steeltoed-Boots," a sideways glance to Yi with that, and an amused half-smile, "Cliath 'Gnawer Ragabash. Niceta meetcha." Her eyes dart to the pig, then the cub, doing some quick estimates, and she steps over slightly to be ready to help, just in case the Ahroun decides to try and pass it over anyway. "Dais'd do," she remarks, trying to head that eventuality off, "Could put down a bita th' paper we don't need, first... I don' think that's gonna fit in th' fridge." She trails off as Yi speaks.

Kaz darts over to, in fact, put some paper down, grinning slightly at something Bernie said.

Anneka almost staggers under the weight of the pig, then grins as Yi catches it up. "Thanks." She's still staring at it. "This is a whole lotta bacon. Thank you, John Smith."

Yi mumbles something momentarily about Pocahontas, and then leaves the pig momentarily to fish the newspaper she brought. Her footsteps are hurried over to the dais, as she spreads out the paper and motions for the Gnawers to lay the pig down.

John smiles a little at the efforts of the three Gnawers, and dusts his hands off. He raises an eyebrow at Bernie, looking vaguely impressed at the Raggie's deed-name. "Nice to meet you both." he says politely, tilting his head and watching the Walker gift being handled.

Kaz asks, casually, after helping Yi put papers on the dais, "Don't you guys have a lawyer Kin, John?"

Bernie supports most of the pig as the others spread out the paper, since the ratio of its weight to hers is at least less than one. There's a touch of strain in her stance, but she manages to keep it out of her voice as she asks Anneka, "So, you gotten t' where you c'n shift t' Glabro without droppin' your enda this yet, Otter?"

John nods, and gives Kaz a thoughtful look for a few moments. Then turns to continue enjoying the sight of the Gnawers grappling with the pig. "The Glass-Walkers are always willing to help, I'm sure. I can get you in contact with someone, yes."

Anneka grins at Bernie around the pig and nods, blurring slowly as she shifts to glabro. The pig becomes a good deal lighter as the cub's wiry, sturdy arms catch hold of it, the cub's smile gaining sharp teeth. "Got it."

"/If/ Marcus -- he's our Kin -- ends up in jail f'this, I think we'd be obliged." Kaz sighs. "Don' want him rottin' away."

John raises an eyebrow at Kaz, looking at her consideringly, again. When he looks back to the cub carrying the pig, he smiles widely. "Ah, brains."

Bernie grins back at the cub, shifting her shoulders a bit. "A'ight, then. That way." She tips her head toward the dais, rather unnecessarily, and they start to manhandle the thing on over. "...alas, poor Wilbur, we hardly knew ye," she mutters, as they set it down a little awkwardly.

Yi wipes a hand on her pants before looking at the others. "I will help find him, if you need help in doing that. I got him into this mess, first." She completely misses the Charlotte's Web reference.

Kaz shrugs at John, and then mutters, in Bernie's general direction, "That's /some/ /pig/." She shakes her head at Yi. "I got th' Questin' Fry, after all. 'Less you wanna come along f'moral support."

Anneka grins, an ugly but earnest thing, with teeth like that, blurring back to homid form once the pig has been set on the paper. Perhaps she's glanced at the door, it's hard to say, but the cub looks a lot more comfortable once she looks human again. "Questin' Fry?"

Max arrives inconspicuously enough at the front entrance, the back of the room. She moves into the ex-sanctuary and settles into a back pew wearing dark glasses despite the relative dark outside. Slouching down she simply watches with an indeterminate gaze and an unreadable expression.

John notices her, despite the subdued entrance, and gives a brief nod. "Max." he calls over by way of greeting, watching her carefully.

Bernie flashes a grin to Kaz, and nods. "T'riffic," she replies, "...radiant, even." The discussion of finding Marcus does dim the smile, though not kill it. "'f he's at home, we don't even hafta bother with that..." She goes to wipe her hands on her jeans, pauses a moment, and leans over to wipe them on the cub's jeans instead. Then she waves one at Max, her packmate's stealthy entry spoilt by John's greeting.

Little Tim is almost as stealthy as Max, for once eschewing the 'wham-bang' entry for one that only whispers. He slips into the same pew as Max, elbowing her hard in the ribs, tossing her a mean smirk, but otherwise staying quiet. Maybe he followed her to the church without her realizing.

Anneka glances over at the door, sharply, as it opens, though Bernie thoroughly distracts her. She blinks, a faint giggle escaping as she looks down at her jeans. "Ew. Hey."

The metis says, "Yep." She seems about to leave it at that, but her grin reappears. "I can find just about anyone, if I know their name. It's a Rite we got." She takes a longish piece of string that has a fairly dessicated french fry tied to it, and starts muttering under her breath. Eventually, once she starts speaking louder, it becomes clear she's using Anneka's full name. After a long pause, she lets the string go, and the fry gravitates toward Anneka. Kaz is, for those watching closely, and even for those not watching closely, not helping this movement at all. She hasn't, in her concentration, apparently heard John, nor seen her other packmates.

Yi is down to little more than a quiet nod every now and then, as she glances up to find more Groo spilling in. "Well, we could almost have a moot right now," she notes.

Anneka looks up as she catches her name spoken, her eyes trailing over to rest on the fry as it points to her. "Wow. That is a very cool fry." She looks up to Kaz, then back to the fry again.

Max's head turns fractionally, just enough to suggest she's looking at John. "Mr. Happy," she returns evenly, not conspicuously audibly. Tim's arrival jostles her attempt at embodying the gloomy and moody as she oomphs and elbows him back. But, it should be noted, the younger ragabash does not slide back away from her packmate. In the meantime, Max holds up a two-fingered peace sign at those in the front of the church, murmuring something to Tim in the meantime out of the corner of her mouth.

A small grunt sounds from John's throat, and he turns his head slightly to examine the other new arrival. He tilts his head, watching him. Arms still folding. He notes, absently, to Kaz, "I'd love to learn how to do that, sometime."

Bernie watches the fry, and grins, shaking her head. "...Sometime, y'gotta teach me how t' do that too," she comments, and leans against a pew.

This finally gets Kaz's notice, and she shoots a grin in that direction. She manages to keep enough of her attention on the fry not to let it go quiescent, though, and she mutters, "Max. Y'know. Th' Gnawer," at it. It rotates slightly, to pull towards her packmate. "Yeah? Well, I'm around."

Little Tim offers his own one-fingered sign to those at front when they look toward he and Max, though it's hardly peace-oriented. He nurses a brown-paper-bag as he catches Max's quiet comment, returns his own.

Anneka pulls her eyes away from the fry, claiming a grip on her attention once more, and waves to Max and Tim, at the back. The corners of her mouth turn up in a faint smile.

Kaz mutters, "Down boy," to it, and it goes quiescent.

"I'm waitin' 'til she can get the fry to fly up an ass on command," Max mutters from the back pew, lifting a bottle and taking a swig before dropping it back out of sight. She tosses her head in Anneka's direction and mutters to Tim. "You met the Wapner-puppy yet?"

Yi glances around at the influx, then decides to guard the pig at the dais quietly.

John murmurs, "Gnawers." very quietly under his breath at Little Tim's greeting, and ignores him - turning to look at Kaz, and Bernie. "Sooner's better than later..." he says with a weak attempt at a smile. It loses something due to a hint of worry, perhaps.

Little Tim does his part to ignore the others up front, instead engaging Max in a murmured conversation. Periodically, his bottle is passed between them.

Bernie looks, fleetingly, both scandalized and amused by Max's first mutter, as she catches it. "...guess tha'd be one way t' handle that faceta th' 'bduction," she murmurs half under her breath, with a tiny shake of her head. "'s it tricky?" she asks Kaz, out loud, giving the fry an almost wary glance.

Kaz raises her voice somewhat. "It does tricks. It don't do gymnastics." A little quieter, she asks John, head tilted slightly, "Why? You needa look f'someone in p'ticular? An' no," she adds, to both Bernie and John, "It's fairly straightforward, basically."

John murmurs quietly to Kaz, "We have a new mage in town, perhaps." There's an edge to his voice... violence. I doesn't show as anything but concern, on his face, though.

Max casts a brief glances back to the front of the church over the dark glasses, pursing her lips to quell her grin -- a grin would destroy the dark mood she's trying to evoke tonight. Then she looks back to Tim, taking another drink from the bottle that seems to move to and fro between them. She murmurs now and again.

Kaz gives John a long look. "Does he play with traffic lights and know people's names before they tell them to him?"

Bernie tilts her head, listening to this quietly, and with unconcealed interest.

Anneka leans herself against a pew and brushes her hands against her jeans. Her hair tumbles down over her eyes as she looks down at the floor, then cants her head slightly, before looking up, green eyes darting from Kaz to John.

John scowls. "He watches too many movies, and has strange ideas about the evolution of Man. And his part in it." he grunts. "Though he strikes me as being one inclined to play with traffic lights."

Kaz glances at Anneka. "What's he /look/ like?" she asks, looking back to the Walker.

John's mood appears to be worsening by the moment, just thinking about the person in question. Stormclouds could almost be brewing over his head... "Short. Carries himself tall. Pretty boy, with an odd sense of fashion." he says tersely.

"Does he have a weird shirt?" Anneka asks. "With lots of little pictures on it?" Anneka is watching John now, green eyes bright and sharp.

John's eyes narrow. "What have you seen? Has he approached you? He's dangerous. Very dangerous." he warns, eyes flashing at the cub in tightly contained hostility.

Yi carefully listens as well, though her mind still floats around some more recent events involving the Garou and guns, amongst other things in her concern.

Max turns in pew, drawing up her knee and facing Tim to continue their low-toned conversation.

Kaz says, firmly, "We noticed. Did you get the fucker's name?"

"I saw him. That's him. He knew my name and I did /not/ tell him, ever. He was breakin' traffic lights, makin' them change with a thing, for a television." She glances to Kaz. "That was him."

Bernie looks, frankly, fascinated. And slightly amused at the traffic lights idea. Actually, she gradually gets that somewhat ominous Working Something Out look, too, though she shakes it off as the conversation continues.

John practically spits the name. "Carter. He's a fucking lunatic." Hackles rising, he growls, "Got himself a small army of kids and bruisers who get together to fight, and wreak mischief as 'homework'. Sound familiar?"

Yi glances from John to Anneka and finally comes out of her little reverie at the description. "The police aren't after him?"

It might be, ever so briefly, as Max pulls off her shades and leans in to listen to Tim, that a fascinated-appalled expression flickers across her face. "You /gotta/ be dehydrated, dude." Her lips quirk crookedly.

Kaz grunts. Some of it looks as if, in fact, it sounds unfamiliar, but she rolls with it. "Well. We'll have to go have a search party, then."

John snaps at Yi, "I said he was a lunatic, not stupid." Quickly looking back to Kaz, he adds, "And he can stop you from shifting."

Little Tim shakes his head - vehemently - but then cracks a smirk, says, "Oh, you /wish/ babe," before continuing his quiet conversation with Max.

Anneka's pale brow furrows. "He was tryin' to get me to play with the r'mote. But I didn't want t'touch it. 'Cause, if he was fixin' the lights, like he said, he wouldn'ta wanted me to touch it. I'm just some kid. But he did. I can r'member some of the stuff, for it." There's a pause as she chews on her lower lip. "And he had a toolbox, an' got kinda nervous when I tried to look at it."

Kaz stares at the Walker. "Well. Then prolly we needa have some actual fuckin' strategy."

Yi snorts. "Shoot him, then," she grumbles. "Even a crazy person can't stop bullets."

Bernie nods to that, considering all this. her brow furrows a tad. "Too bad there's no nice easy way t' frame him for th' whole club fight thing. Two birds, one stone, etc. Though, I guess if he c'n stop ya from shiftin', he prolly could get 'way form th' cops, too."

Max elbows Tim murmuring something about 'patrol' and hands back his bottle before casting a noteworthy glance in Kaz's direction before slipping out of the church.

John looks vaguely uncomfortable, taking an edge of the rising anger. He looks away from Kaz, and shrugs. "Someone else's gotta kill him." There's a brief pause, and he adds, "And I'd prefer if you didn't let Rina know I told you so."

Kaz tilts her head a little more to stare at the man. "You can't. Why's that?"

Bernie regards John in a remarkably similar manner, though one brow quirks a bit at the kin's name.

Yi glances up at John's mention of Rina. Her eyes read into him, but she doesn't add her question into the pile.

Anneka straightens up a bit, looking from her tribemates, then to John. She chews on her lower lip, her eyes brimming with questions, but the cub remains silent for the moment.

John shrugs dismissively. "I promised Rina. Not until we find out that he's evil, and not just having fun." he mutters, lowly. He turns slightly to give Yi a hard look. "He healed her."

Kaz eyes the man a little warily. "I don' think that's all of it," she finally decides, "But that's what I'll take, because I gotta get to patrollin'. But you'n me're gonna have a /talk/, later. 'Cause I gotta know what's up with this asshole."

Yi looks back down at the pig momentarily then gazes back up. "He healed her, and he's not a Garou. What if we ask Perrin?"

John barely covers a grimace at Kaz's threat. "Just be careful. I'm sticking to him, now. And if he slips up, I'll kill him. Provided he doesn't recognise it first." He sighs a little. "I hate playing fucking games..." he growls.

Kaz says, a little grimly, "Careful's my middle name." Shaking her head, she sighs. "Love them all powerful assholes. Anyway." She sticks her sandwich in her pocket, says, generally, "Later," and heads for the door.

"I dunno, Scrabble c'n pass a dull night sometimes," Bernie comments, deadpan, and shrugs a little, glancing down to the cub a moment, then back up. "Catcha later, Mama Kaz!" she calls after her packmate, with a fleeting evil grin.

John stuffs one hand in his pocket, and waves vaguely at the pig. "Well. There's a gift from the Walkers to the Gnawers. Don't let it go to waste." he says simply, and starts to follow Kaz out the door. "Enjoy the rest of the night." he adds, with a grunt.

Yi shoots Bernie and Anneka a brief amused look, before nodding to John. "We'll have eyes watching," she says quietly and waves to Kaz and John.

Kaz shoots a vaguely hunted look at Bernie, and slips out.

Anneka quirks the corners of her mouth into a smile and waves to Kaz, watching her as she heads outside. Then, as John starts to leave, she straightens up. "Thanks again for the pig!"

Anneka looks back to Bernie then, and smiles faintly. "Bacon."

Yi looks back down at the pig and an odd look creases her brow. "I have heard of giving gifts of food... but a roasted pig? From John?" She shrugs afterwards, uttering something in her language before looking up at Anneka and Bernie. "So, what should we do with this?"

"Like I said earlier," Bernie says to John's retreating back, "niceta meetcha, Cap'n..." Another fleeting grin crosses her face as she says that, before she turns to the cub, and then eyes the pig. "Bacon," she repeats, eyeing the thing, "...damn, but that'd be a lotta cuttin'... what d'we do with it? Uh... name it. Kevin, or Sir Francis?"

Anneka stands up straight, rocking forward until she's upright, and hops in place. She looks over to the pig. "Wow. It's still there. /I/ thought it was a real weird dream." Then she's darting over to it, peering down at what is indeed a rather large amount of bacon. "Well, I guess we could cut it up. I don't know how much stuff's in th'fridge, though." She glances back to Bernie and Yi. "Kevin."

Yi shrugs, and takes out a small switchblade. She looks like she's about to carve turkey, then pauses. "Or, we could hand part of it out to the homeless. It would be strange..but.."

"Kinda," Anneka says, quietly. "Maybe if there's a kitchen somewhere, we could give some of th'pig to them. That way lots of people would get to eat it." She gives the pig a thoughtful glance, then darts off downstairs, returning a short time later with a larger kitchen knife. "This is clean, I think. And I'm real hungry."

Bernie nods, slowly. "'s a good idea. I mean, we c'n all eat a lot, but that's a lotta pig t' get through..." She shakes her head again, looking at it. "Tryin' t' r'member where people might need it. There's th' women's shelter, an' I seem t' r'call another one..."

Yi nods, then blinks at Anneka's kitchen knife with a small laugh. "Well, there is also that Regan Hope Project. Julie works in some soup kitchens."

Sandy, curly hair bobs about as Anneka crouches down near the pig, giving it and the oversized kitchen knife something of a skeptical glance. She blinks, looking up to Yi and Bernie. "It'd be real cool to bring it to th'Project. There's a lotta people there it'd help."

"Long 's they don't keep kosher," Bernie agrees, with a half-smile. "'s a good idea, Gnat. So. Guess we oughta carve it up an' parcel it out, huh? Kevin's yours, Ann'ka, so I figure you get t' do th' honours..."

Yi tilts her head. "Gnat?" she queries, before nodding to Anneka. "I wonder what brought John with this gift," she murmurs while looking over the pig.

Anneka draws an arm across her forehead, brushing her hair away from her eyes, and looks down at the pig. "Not sure where to start," she murmurs as she pokes the tip of the knife at one of the legs. "We could have a real cool dinner on a little bit, all of us. So--" She starts cutting one of the legs away, a simple thing at first, though harder as the knife catches bone. The cub wrinkles her freckled nose a bit. "--We could give most away."

"Gnat," Bernie confirms, to the other Ragabash. "Bein' as they're all tiny an' energetic an' all." She shrugs slightly, regarding poor Kevin again. "An' I dunno... beyond, y'know, what he said, in honora Ann'ka an' all..." She steps aside, and sits comfy in a pew.

Yi looks thoughtfully to the pig as Anneka cuts, helping her detach the intended leg. She makes do with her shorter blade, cutting down another limb in a more chef-like manner despite the small knife in her own hand. "I think I like Otter better," she says with a chuckle.

Collin thumps on the door first. It's always polite to knock before entering, see.

"Yeah, well, me too, but nothin' wrong with a li'l variety..." Bernie pauses at the knock, glancing to the doors, then stands and strides over to open one side of them, cautiously. She relaxes visibly on seeing Collin, and grins broadly. "Hey, God!" she exclaims, "Welcome home!"

Anneka catches something of a smile as she prods at the pig's midsection. "I do, too." She grabs onto one of the pig's legs and leans back, pulling it with her to roll it over-- then pauses in the midst of this as there's a knock on the door. She looks up. "Umf." Then, in a smaller voice. "I was thinkin' we could take the legs, an' give the rest to Regan's Hope."

Yi nods, replying. "Fair enough," she says before looking up. At Bernie's enthusiastic greeting, she squints slightly to make out Collin's features. "God?"

"Indeed. Too bad they changed it to the Church of Dog some time ago." Collin says, cheerfully, at the door. He'll come right on in, in fact, before he looks over at Yi. "That's me!"

Yi smirks a bit as she finally puts voice and face together. "I remember you," she says with a pig leg pointed in his general direction. Then she looks at the leg and turns it away before chuckling to cover the embarrassment. Her eyes travel back down to the pig and Anneka. "Think that's it," she says with a smile as the four legs get cut off. "We should wrap it up."

Bernie closes the door behind the Strider, and replies, "Well, y'know, y'disappear, y'don't pay th' bills.... th' bank foreclosed, so it's unner new management, y'see..." She grins again, looking over to Yi as she heads back toward the pair at the dais, "shorter'n I useta imagine Him, but I think th' lacka huge white beard's a plus..." She picks up some more newspaper from a pew, and offers it to Yi and Anneka. For wrapping, one would assume.

Anneka looks down at the pig. "One, two, three, four, an'-- I'd be real surprised if there were more'n that." The girl nods, smiles to Bernie as she starts wrapping up one of the legs. "Thanks. I hope there's space for th'rest in th' 'fridge. It's a real big pig."

Collin tells Bernie, "Well, no huge white beard would look good on me anyways. It'd just get in the way of killing things." He looks at the pig, eyes blinking once. "Speaking of killing things."

Yi takes the newspaper and nods, hefting part of the big pig up to wrap around it. She pauses a moment to look at Collin with an invisible question mark hanging over her head. Then she shrugs and goes back to wrapping up the pork.

Bernie giggles at Anneka's comment, breaking into song, quietly, "Are you achin' / for some bacon..." The soft alto trails off into another brief giggle; apparently, she's regained most of the cheer she originally arrived with. "...yeah, Kevin's a real porker."

Anneka stands, gathering the wrapped up leg in her arms, and looks over to the new fellow, smiling. "Oh! Hello, hi! I'm Anneka, called Otter when I'm swimmin' and wolfin'. Half-moon cub of th' Bone Gnawers." She pauses, in the midst of forming a thought, then darts down to help Yi with the rest of the pig. "Oof."

"Well, since we're out one 'Moon-Otter', I guess Otter is a decent replacement." Collin lifts his hand and gives Anneka a wave. He heads over to her, in fact, to shake her hand, "Hi. Nice to meet you. Collin. Silent Strider. Mister Perfect. Oh yeah, and a ragabash if you couldn't figure that out."

Yi finishes wrapping up the pig and proceeds to wrap up the legs as well. "Or God," she adds in with a laugh. "This it?" she says after her hands make short work of the wrapping. One leg left out for any hungry Groo, she looks over at Bernie, then Collin and finally rests her gaze on Anneka. "You can be a big pig too..." she adds to Bernie's short humming of the lines.

Bernie clicks her tongue, and shakes her head sadly as she gathers up the other three legs. "Poor Ann'ka," she laments, "...s'rounded by us. Poor li'l 'dox hasn't gotta chance...." She flashes a quick grin at the girl. "I'm gonna take these down t' th' fridge." Suiting action to word, she heads for the basement door.

"Moon Otter?" Anneka blinks twice, then grins as she reaches out to shake Collin's hand as well, her own pale with nimble, skinny fingers and slightly greasy from chopping a pig into smaller pieces of pig. She doesn't seem to notice, and grins, then looks back to Yi. "I'm too skinny to be a piggy," she says, a faint giggle limning her voice. "An' I bet one leg's a lot for all of us." She nods to Bernie. "Okay!"

Collin certainly doesn't seem to mind the grease upon Anneke's hands. He turns towards the pig and asks, "So what's all this, then? Someone having a party they failed to remember to invite the Party-Master to?"

Yi chuckles and shrugs at Anneka. "Well, if you eat all of that leg you might not be so skinny after," she jokes and stands up. "It was a gift, I believe, from one of our Glass Walkers."

Anneka brushes her arm across her forehead and sticks her tongue out at Yi, laughing. "I couldn't eat it all, unless I was a lot bigger." There's an impish glitter to her eyes, but she doesn't act on whatever thought spawned it. Instead, her form blurs to Glabro, and she picks up what's left of the pig, sans one leg, and heads downstairs after Bernie.

Yi shrugs, and smirks at Collin. "Well you should hang around some more, if you want to see some parties. Then again, they're not always good ones." She looks down at the headlines of the newspaper's front page, smeared with fat.

"Mmmn. Parties." Collin sniffs once, then cracks his knuckles, locking fingers together to do it in front of him. "Hey, nothing wrong with that. I don't get to go to many. I always end up missing them and shit, see."

Bernie returns up the stairs, after several minutes, shaking her head again, and grinning slightly. "Think all th' 'citement musta worn out th' cub," she declares. "She's fast asleep down there.... so what's this 'bout parties?"

"Oh, you know, we have a lot of them in St. Claire. Collin keeps on missing the action," Yi replies teasingly.

"Happens to the best of them." Collin makes a quick grin towards Bernie, then he stretches his neck a little. "Ahh. Yeah. I do. I don't get to do all the fun stuff I'd like. Then again, my definition of fun is not blindly charging a thirty foot tall monster, either, and hope it's not *me* that it decides to step on this time."

Bernie grins, "Oh, the PARTIES. Yeah, y'know. I dunno, they get kina rowdy. Sometimes even sinful. Not sure it'd be good for th' d'vine image an' all, y'know?" She leans against a pew, pushing a curl that was already behaving back behind her ear.

"Pfft. What's life without a little sin? Not that I ever *get* to sin." Collin sniffs.

Yi must be missing a little bit of something here, but shrugs and goes with it. "If you were around more you could," comes her innocent note.

Bernie's eyes widen slightly behind her glasses as she glances sidelong at Yi, pressing her lips together briefly to stifle laughter. "Oh, yeah?" she asks casually after a second, blushing perhaps a shade pinker.

Collin eyes Yi for a moment. He looks at Bernie, then says, "I'm not going to do it. I'm not even gonna say it. I'm not even gonna hint it. That would be uncharacteristically cruel. Downright evil. I'm a forgiving god, though."

Yi, while being perceptive in the little nuances around her, is obviously having some holes in her mood radar. She looks between the two ragabi, puzzled. "What did I say? What?"

Bernie nods solemnly at Collin. "Prolly wise. I always preferred th' forgivin' model t' th' vengeful an' jealous one, anyhow..." She doesn't address her tribemate's question.

"Nothing," Collin says, innocently to Yi. "Let's move on, shall we?"

Yi looks a little more than confused, but shrugs again. She'll just have to review the conversation mentally later. "So what inspired God to return to this church?" she inquires with a short curious gaze.

"I was cubbed here some time ago, so I occasionally stop by and see how the local Gnawer population is doing, you know?" Collin bobs his head.

Bernie reclaims her seat on the pew, getting comfortable. "Not too badly, overall, I think..."

Yi shrugs and nods along with Bernie's description of the Gnawer population. "Overall it's doing well. Ran into a few stones along the path, but it's pretty clear. Yourself?"

"Keen. I owe a lot to the Gnawer tribe, see, so I like to help out where I can. They did pretty much let me stay here and raise me for a while. Hell, it's where I met one of my, now deceased, best friends." Collin rolls his shoulders.

Bernie pauses a moment. "Sorry 'bout your friend," she replies, quietly. "So... y'want some pig, by th' way? There seems t' be a lotta in th' fridge, jus' now..."

Yi nods slowly at Collin's reply, looking around the church for the purpose of averting her eyes. "And so what do you plan on doing lately then?" she asks out of curiosity. "Another ragabash around wouldn't be too harmful to the general population, na?"

"Don't worry about it. It was a long time ago. He died in one of the fights at the Power Plant and I'm sure he couldn't have asked for a better way to go. Well, okay, going without the poison gas might've been nice. Hell, not going at all would've been a lot better, but for what it was worth it wasn't too bad." Collin shrugs his shoulders, then says, "Sure. Pig is good."

Bernie gestures toward the basement door, pushing back up to her feet. "A'ight, then. It awaits below. Not quite a burnt offering, but hey, c'n make do, yeah?"

Yi chuckles and slides into a pew with the front row to prop her feet up. "So what -have- you been up to?" Her question aimed to Collin, as she briefly notes to Bernie, "You're looking a lot better too, Stomper."

"Oh, seeing the sites." Collin says, cheerfully, as he heads towards the basement in question. "Someone care to fill me in on what's been up lately, too?"

Bernie follows basementward, beckoning Yi to come along with a tilt of her head. "Yeah, thanks. I wasn't thinkin' post-Backdraft-crispy was a good look for me either..." A hand moves up to her forehead. "...I kina miss my eyebrows, though.... not t' be, y'know. Ungrateful for not bein' eternally scarred or anythin'."

"Ah, the joy of regeneration." He chimes in.

Yi lifts her legs off and gets back up, following along after. "Well other than the sewers still being a problem, and having a new gang shootout to worry about since Garou were involved, what else is there?" Lots of course, but that can come slowly.

Bernie opens the fridge as they reach it, and pulls out the leg that Anneka apparently had part of, brandishing it like some kind of scepter, or possibly club, and offering it toward the others. She doesn't seem inclined to eat it herself.

Eyeing it, Collin says, "It's not cooked?"

"Roasted," Bernie replies, looking around for a clean plate and possibly some silverware.

Yi flicks open her switchblade again, deciding to take a small chunk of it by cutting off some. She picks off a bite, chewing and swallowing with a satisfied look regarding the taste before brandishing the knife in offer to cut a piece for Collin. "Of course it's cooked." She laughs.

"Whew." Collin looks relieved. "Thank god." Ah, this is better. He does go to get some, oh yes. Seems like Bernie has the right idea, though.

Bernie finds a plate and, well, plasticware, bright red, but at least it's strong and even reasonably sharp. These, she slides over to Collin before taking up a comfortable leaning position against the nearest wall-like surface. Anneka snoozes in a pile of blankets in one corner. "We're not =savages=, y'know," she remarks loftily, and then grins again, "...well, 'cept at those parties, of course...."

Yi glances up from her small ham-piece tearing, realizing how silly she must look eating off her knife. "Saves from having to wash dishes though," she remarks as she heads to the kitchenette to get a few napkins. The mention of parties again brings that thought of wonder what she said upstairs to mind, but Yi keeps it quietly tucked into her own odd mental recesses.

"Ah, but that's when it's the most fun, you see." Collin bobs his head up and down, looking to Yi. "Mmn. Disposables. These better be the bio-degradable kind." A quick grin follows.

Bernie shrugs, and grins, "Just 'cause somethin's disposable doesn't mean you're =obligated= t' immediately disposa it. They wash up fine."

Yi cleans up her knife after finishing her piece and wipes it clean with a napkin. She walks over and hands a couple more over. "We don't need any plastic spoon monsters with paper plate eyes down in the sewers anyway," she snorts.

"This is true." Collin agrees, solemnly. "Just don't stick them in a dishwasher and you'll be fine. Not like that's a problem for Gnawers in the first place." He grins again, then stretches out, slumping back himself to eat.

Bernie smirks. "If they end up in th' dishwasher, he was too drunk t' be doin' chores anyway..." She stretches a bit, and pulls her backpack around to look at the broken-banded watch attached to the strap.

Yi leans up against one of the walls to the basement, looking at one of the windows leading out to the alley. "You have any plans, Collin? How about a moot for the ragabash around here? There's a lot of us, na?" The thought seems to come very idly, mentioned out of the blue.

"Mmmn. Ragabash moot. Not a bad idea if you can find a Ragabash actually willing to plan something like that." Collin tells Yi. "They'd have to be a frighteningly unwise Ragabash to gather as many of us in one place as possible." He winks.

Bernie grins sideways at Yi. "We might reach a critical mass. Anyway a =wise= Ragabash or two'd go 'head an' plan such a thing. They'd just know t' host it in someone else's place..."

Yi flicks her switchblade down and puts it away, tapping a finger on a wall. "Think it would be that dangerous?" she smirks. "I can be 'frighteningly unwise', too. The only matter would be whether we should do it in a place that won't cause...-too- much trouble. Besides, we have to ... 'reach out' in the ministry, na?"

"Of course. All must come to know the word of Collin. Be excellent to each other." Collin nods solemnly.

"Party on, dude," Bernie replies gravely, with an answering nod, managing to stay deadpan for all of five seconds before breaking into a grin again.

Yi chuckles and runs a hand through her hair. "Well then... this newmoon will strike up some plans and see if we can get a spark going. I'd honestly be curious as to who would come." She grins at the two. "In the meantime, I'll be out and about. Have work tomorrow, still." She gets a wry look momentarily at the thought of another day over a hot wok, then smiles and shrugs. "Take care you two, na?"

"Aw, already. We'll take care." Collin waves his hand at Yi, grinning. "Catch you later." He looks over at Bernie, then back to Yi. "We'll see about all this planning shit."

Bernie waves a hand to Yi. "Sleep well. An' I might even forgive ya for leavin' me out in that first sentence there..."

Yi grins back before she heads back up the stairs. "If you'd told me what I said wrong up there about parties, perhaps."

Laughing, Collin says, "Byeeee." He wiggles his fingers.

Bernie sticks her tongue out at her tribemate. "Oh, yeah, y'say that =now=..." The grin flashes back into place, and she shrugs. "N'night."

Yi waves, and clomps up the stairs with a short hum of a song striking up as she walks out.

Busting up laughing, Collin says, "Can you believe that?"

Bernie tilts her head a bit, still grinning, though less so, as she asks, "...which, that she doesn't have any idea what she said?"

"That." Collin agrees. "Given that I was insinuating my lack of sex and all."

Again, a light blush, but coincident with a laugh as the Gnawer nods. "Yeah... I guess she just hasn't been s'ficiently corrupted, yet. Though 'parently I'm comin' along well..."

"You're a teenager. This is natural." Collin says, solemnly. "She just missed the carnal connotations as it were. Hey, it's no reason to blush. It's not as if you're going to jump my bones and thusly break the first law, right?" His tone is completely cheerful.

Bernie's blush only intensifies at that. "Nnnno, I think it's a pretty safe bet that isn't on th' menu... an', okay, yeah, but she only just turned eighteen like a couple months 'go, so technic'ly, she is too. A teenager, I mean."

"Good. Because then I'd have to execute you. But only afterwards." Collin nods, solemnly.

"'course," Bernie agrees, matter-of-factly, despite the lingering blush, "'cause it's just unethical t' punish someone for somethin' when they haven't done it yet. An' equally of course, I'd hafta execute you as well. I mean, gotta keep things fair, no double standards, here."

"Right. But we'd have to be sure what we did is worthy of double-execution." Collin nods, solemnly again. "I bet it would be." Ah, he's enjoying her blush.

The blush goes another shade pinker at that, but there's something of a determination to the slight movement of Bernie's shoulders against the wall. "Well, y'know th' saying, might 's well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb, an' all that. Be shame if th' crime di'n' fit th' punishment."

"Indeed." Collin eyes her, grinning widely. "But Bobbiting is *strictly* off limits."

Bernie nods. "Right. 'specially as I think it'd take some work, with onea those." She gestures toward the plastic red knife, then adds, "...plus, I dunno how t' drive, yet, so it'd be hard for me t' toss th' evidence from th' car." Pause. "'less I got a ride, but, y'know, just wouldn't be quite th' same. An' anyway, with a double execution also, y'know... overkill."

"Yeah. Exactly. But I bet if we just *orally* pleasured each other it wouldn't quite merit that." Collin leans forward, leering.

Well, that gets several levels of additional pinkness right there. It's too bad she can't control the blush; everything else manages to come off as reasonably casual and detached. "Well, one'd think so," Bernie replies, "I mean, after all, th' law doesn't act'ly say anythin' 'gainst that. So one would think an execution'd be somewhat outta proportion."

"Right. So... wanna do it?" Collin's grin is innocent. Completely.

And there we have it: speechlessness, lips slightly parted, blush moving speedily into definitely red territory. Bernie blinks a couple of times, and for several seconds it's hard to tell whether she's just completely lost for words.... or considering it. As usual, the part of her mind that directly controls her mouth recovers before the rest of her, resulting in a mildly dazed, "...aren'tcha at least s'posta take me t' dinner anna movie first?"

"I don't have any money," Collin says, sadly.

Bernie nods slightly. "Me neither," she replies, "...I think that's goin' 'round, actually. Hear they're doin' research onna cure." Which isn't anything like a change in the subject, of course.

"Yeah. It's too bad it's not out yet." Collin sniffs once, then rubs his nose with one hand. "I mean, I wouldn't mind not being poor. Then again, it sort of goes against the Strider thing. Can't exactly let cars do our running for us and so on." He waves his hand, quickly, then leans forward towards her. "So no dinner and a movie, but hey," he points out, "You didn't actually say no." Maybe he's not such a merciful god after all. "Speaking of movies, christ, it's been ages since I was at one."

Bernie lifts her chin a bit, head tilting, and regards him thoughtfully a few moments before pushing off the wall and taking a few somewhat tentative steps toward him. She leans in in return, quite close, until her breath can just barely be felt, as if she might kiss him. Which she doesn't. "...no," she replies, breaking into a quick grin, and turning quickly away to step back toward the nice comfy spot on the wall. "Don't know ya nearly well 'nough t' know you that well. But you don't act'ly =need= money t' see movies, y'know..."

"This is true. Why don't we go catch a late show, mmmn? Then we can do the oral sex ting." Collin hops to his feet in a single, easy movement. He's good at that sort of thing, it seems. "I'm sure there's something playing somewhere that we can go see."

The blush is, finally, beginning to dissipate again, and the Gnawer nods at the suggestion. "Movie works for me," she replies, "though I'm 'bout ninety-nine point forty-four percent sure you're still outta luck on th' latter count..." She adjusts her jacket slightly, and pushes the backpack strap more firmly onto her shoulder.

"That's still point six remaining!" Collin sniffs, proudly, buffing his nails on his shirt. "Whatcha wanna see?" He rolls his shoulders a little, stretching. "There's not a whole lot of great movies out. The Mummy Returns, unfortunately, comes out in two weeks."

Bernie laughs, and shakes her head slightly. "I'd say we could look in th' paper, but I'm pretty damn sure we wrapped parta th' pig in th' relevant section... so since I have no idea what's playin' at all, I'm gonna throw caution to th' winds an' just let you pick somethin'."

"Oooh. Okay." Collin rubs his hands together and then pops his knuckles. "Let us depart! Talleyho!" Up the stairs goes Collin, heading right on outside of His church.

Bernie follows, hands finding their way into her jacket pockets, where they're quite sure they belong. "Shall I release th' hounds?" she queries, as they head out.

"Indeed!" is Collin's response.

The theatre really isn't too far from the church, a matter of only a few blocks from the supposedly abandoned building to a more prosperous and commercially entertaining section of the city. There are actually closer theatres, on Elson, but the films showing there are a bit genre-restricted. This one, while small and old, is decently maintained and running standard fare.

Upon reaching the theatre, Collin points at it and says, "Here we are. Born to be Kings. Of the theatre, anyways, if not the universe."

"I'd settle for princes," Bernie replies, looking up at the marquee, "but, y'know, there c'n be only one..." She scans the titles, and just as importantly, the theatre numbers attached. "Which one d'ya wanna see?"

"How about Enemy at the Gates?" Collin says, after a second. "It's older, but it's still playing. I think."

Bernie nods, hand moving from her pocket to point upward, "...theatre three. Nine pm, eleven-ten, an' one-fifteen..." She reaches back to pull her bag around and check the time on that dangling watch.

"There we are. That's the nearest show. Cool." Collin points at the time, then looks at the watch, then says, "Now we just have to get in. Shouldn't be too hard for amazing people of our talents, right?" He winks.

Bernie grins, and nods. "Right. Our mission, should we choose t' accept it..." She pauses. "...I want th' Mission Impossible theme in th' background. So, which way d'ya wanna do this?," she asks, conspiratorially, "We could go 'round th' back an' try t' sneak in, we could try t' persuade th' ticket taker we just came out t' grab somethin' from th' car an' he should let us back in, or... somethin' else I haven't thoughta yet."

"Or how about this?" Collin walks around back, opens the back door without a hitch, the 'exits', and walks on into the theatre.

"So th' first option, then," Bernie replies, dryly, and follows in, closing the door quietly behind them and takes a quick look around to make sure there's no pesky witnesses or cameras. Apparently, they're in luck.

"Woohoo. We're in." Collin finds himself a seat and kicks back, promptly. Right in the third row back, in fact. At this hour there's not going to be many people around, which is actually a disadvantage for sneaking in like this, but still.

Bernie kicks back in the adjacent seat, to the extent of putting her feet up on the back of the seat ahead, ankles crossed. "Infiltration successful," she agrees, with a quick grin, and pulls her backpack into her lap, opening a pocket to pull out an unopened bag of M&Ms. Can't watch a movie without any snacks, after all. The female half of a couple entering the theatre shoots Bernie a glare for the feet while pausing to choose seats.

"Ahhh." Collin's feet go up as well and he casts Bernie a grin. "Exactly," he snickers, seeming more than a little pleased with this. "This is good. Now if only we had soda, popcorn, and ice cream."

"I c'n do choc'late," Bernie replies, passing the bag of M&Ms over and rummaging in the backpack again like someone who really isn't quite sure there =isn't= a tub of popcorn in there somewhere. There isn't. "...well," she remarks, after a few moments, pulling the top of a bottle from deep within with some surprise, "No soda, but 'parently I gotta Guinness in here..." She talks quietly -- partly movie theatre voice, partly the confidentiality of contraband. "No idea how that'd go with milk choc'late inna candy shell, though."

"Pfft. Guiness is fine. Not enough for us to get drunk, though." He sniffs once, looking rueful and sad at the same time.

Bernie laughs, quietly. "In here? Hell no. Now, maybe 'f I hadda bag of holding..." She doesn't withdraw the bottle yet, waiting until the lights go down. After all, the glare-y woman would probably love the excuse to get them kicked out.

Of course she would. Collin smiles at the pair and wiggles his fingers at the glaring ones before he leans back over to Bernie. "Ah, isn't this the life?" He tells her. "Annoying the *hell* out of people when they can't do anything about it?"

Bernie giggles, and gives them a mockingly friendly smile and finger-wiggle herself. "Yes indeed," she replies, thoughtfully, as the couple settle into the front row, and opens a different pocket of the bag, checking for something smallish, which she pulls out and secrets in her pocket before closing the compartment.

"What was that?" Collin asks, curiously, wondering what that smallish thing was in the first place. He eyes her hands, though, then looks up at the screen.

"Annoying," Bernie replies, the grin reappearing, as the lights begin to dim. Once they're out completely, she opens the beer with a quick, smug glance, the bottle cap hopping right off in a hurry to comply. She takes a decent sip, then offers it over to the other Ragabash.

Who sips it, of course. Collin 'mmns' low in his throat once the burning has gone away. "Now that's more like it," he says firmly, but quietly.

The previews come first, as always; a funny one for a comedy, one that's actually kind of scary for a horror movie, and otherwise a couple that aren't funny, but are laughable. Bernie reclaims and opens the M&Ms, taking a small handful before trading them for the bottle.

Which, of course, is done. Collin hands the bottle back over and snacks on the M&Ms promptly. "That one looks good. That one looks like it sucks." That seems to be his running commentary for the trailers.

Bernie snorts very softly at one for an action thriller, with an improbably beautiful blond trying to hack into some mainframe. "Please... who in real life touchtypes while slowly reciting what they're typing aloud? I hate that..." She shakes her head, taking another drink, and returning the beer, starting in on the candy as the movie proper starts.

"I've always how they do typing in movies. It sounds so lame." Collin shakes his head. "I mean, if you've ever used a computer, you know it doesn't sound like that when they're doing it in the movie. In fact, in the movie, it sounds like they're clacking random keys, generally. It sucks." He snickers a little.

Bernie nods. "Totally! Sometimes they use proper sounds like someone touchtypin' like sixty wordsa minute, an' then they have 'em goin'," her voice goes slower, "Dear... miiissssterrr... Perkinnnnsss...." Back to normal speed, a little louder than she was speaking before, closer to her usual volume, "What're they doin', spellin' it with twelve 'P's, ten 'N's, anna silent 'Q'?" The male half of the front row couple turns around and shushes her sternly.

"We're being told to be quiet. You better hush up. In fact, we better get to making out!" Collin says, rather loudly. Probably just to annoy the couple in the front row. He beams at Bernie, then sneaks his hand over to steal the guiness back.

Bernie grins back, snickering a little. "What was I thinkin'?" she queries in similar tones, "You're right, it's so rude t' talk in th' theatre! We might ruin someone else's enjoyment of this fine bita celluloid. Def'nitely oughta focus on quieter pursuits..." She hands the bottle over, finishing off the M&Ms in her hand.

So Collin leans over. "That's right. No talking!" After that, he makes loud kissy noises at her, but he doesn't actually do it, see. He's a good little Garou!

The hint of blush doesn't really show in the dark; Bernie returns the kissy noises admirably for maybe half a minute before she cracks up and steals the bottle back long enough to take a good sip. After returning it, she reaches into her pocket, presumably to get whatever she put in it earlier.

"Hee." Collin seems quite pleased about this and hands the bottle back, but only after he's had a good swig from it. He doesn't hog it, though. He peers to see what she's got and what she's going to do with it.

Bernie pulls out a little plastic cylinder, about palmsize, the label unreadable in the dark. However, as she unscrews the top, it becomes obvious: bubbles. She pulls the wand out, and blows a slow, silent stream of translucent bubbles into the air, toward and over the heads of the other couple, being sure to have the container hidden and her attention firmly on the screen (apparently) by the time they start noticing anything odd.

Collin promptly starts snickering. A lot. He covers his mouth with one hand, in fact, slapping Bernie on the shoulder lightly with the other. It seems he approves greatly of this valient bubble-blowing deed!

Bernie manages, with difficulty, not to laugh herself as the couple begins to notice a few floating, popping bubbles, from the corner of their eyes, and feel the faint hint of soap solution on their skin. Her lips stay pressed together to keep it down to a smirk, and she waits at least two minutes after the pair stop looking around before sending another flotilla of bubbles their way.

Collin covers his face with his hands. This makes watching the movie difficult. In fact, one could say he's not actually watching it anymore. He's too busy trying to not laugh. This is serious business and taking much willpower to stop! Effort!

Bernie watches the bubbles this time, as they float over, one breaking right on top of the front-row-woman's head. That =does= make a snicker escape, and she ducks her head to hide it a bit as the confused but suspicious pair start glancing about again. During the lull, she takes the beer back for a sip.

Lulls are good. Collin sneaks the beer back over to him when Bernie is done with it and has a drink of it, quick-like, before he slides it back over to her. "There you go," he whispers.

Bernie drinks what little remains, making sure to get it all before sliding the empty back into her bag. Don't want it dripping or anything. She actually watches the movie for a little, working on the M&Ms, before, at the height of a quietly dramatic little interlude, showering the victims in bubbles again.

"Now that was just cruel." Collin informs Bernie, gently, as he watches the rest of the beer dissapear down her gullet. "Cruel woman. Cruel." He sighs, then looks back to the screen. Mmmn. Bubblies.

Bernie giggles, and attempts to look contrite, but fails. "There was only a tiny bit left anyhow," she protests, "...but hey, we c'n always go hunt down s'more." Three last volleys of bubbles, quick in a row, as the climactic scene of the movie goes down, surrounding the couple in unignorable amounts of bubbles, floating and popping all around and on them. Bernie seals up the bubble solution and slides it back into her bag as well, snickering quietly as the targets glare back at the ragabi, with well-founded suspicions.

"More." Collin agrees, firmly. "Much more. Much, much more. We should get completely snookered. Utterly. Falling down drunk. Then we can annoy the hell out of passerbys. Why? Because we can, damn it." He puffs up.

Bernie snickers again, casting a glance at the put-upon pair. "Pretty damn sure we c'n do that =sober=," she remarks, "but long 's I don't end up bein' taken in for being drunk in public an' underage drinkin', sounds like it could be fun..."

"Better than indecent exposure," Collin tells Bernie, snickering.

This time she snirks slightly louder, covering her mouth with a hand. "I'm votin' we avoid gettin' =that= drunk," she replies.

"Good plan." Collin nudges her gently with an elbow and then looks back to the screen.

Bernie grins and watches the screen as well, quiet and relatively well-behaved for the rest of the denoument and wrap up of the story.

Of course. Collin finally turns his attention back to the movie as well, staying comfortably leaned back in his seat.

Soon enough, the credits are rolling, and the front row couple are standing, stretching, and making their way out of the theatre. Bernie glances to Collin, closing up her backpack. "Y'wanna see th' credits, or bail?"

"Eh. It wasn't good enough to merit staying for the credits. Not *bad*, but not great either." Collin stretches out and stands up, eyeing the front row couple.

Bernie kicks her feet down from the chair back and stands, slipping her backpack back onto her shoulder and stretching herself. "Mmmph. A'ight, then," she replies, eying the other pair herself, "shall we?"

"Suggestions on how to torture them next?" Collin asks, quietly, eyeing them.

"Well. We could follow 'em," Bernie replies at the same volume, "...opportunities might present themselves."

"This is true. We shall follow." Collin harumphs.

And follow they do; the couple doesn't seem to notice at first, heading out of the room with what looks like some grumbling to each other, and proceeding toward the doors. Bernie's hands slide back into her jacket pockets, and she hums softly to herself as she walks after.

Hands in his own pockets, Collin struts right along. "We rule," he tells Bernie, firmly. "In fact, I think we rule muchly. But it's only because you're at the side of the Great One that you rule as much as you do right now."

"Mm," the Gnawer replies, "r'flected glory." A soft snicker, and she declaims, "Thy mystic glorly reflects off me as th' sun's rays off th' moon, creating a beacon of light in the darkness where before there was none, by which all might see..."

"You have it," Collin says cheerily. "You've got it right on the nose, Alice. Bang. Zoom. Right to the moon." He snickers.

Bernie grins, casually continuing to stalk the hapless movie couple. "Man, I oughta write your scriptures..."

"You should." Collin agrees. "Take my words. Know them."

Bernie giggles. "If I do, do I get t' be God too when I grow up?" She grins, turning a corner after the pair ahead of them. The woman glances back now, apparently having developed that we're-being-followed feeling; she and her companion speed up slightly.

"You know, they're starting to go faster. The question is, do we give in to the chase instinct and run after them or try to figure something else out instead?" He peers after them, amusedly, speeding right up along himself.

Bernie gains a touch of speed herself, as she muses. "Mmm, I dunno. We could freak 'em th' hell out 'f we kept followin' 'em. Might be funny. But is it =art=?" she questions loftily.

"No, no. That's too easy. Especially for us. Art would be something that they can look back on and laugh at later themselves. *That* is art. Something that, in the end, is humorous for them as *well* as us, even if it's in a different manner. Amusing youself is easy." Collin points out, helpfully. "Or we could just make them want us and screw the hell out of them." Ah, he had to throw that in there. He likes the blush, see, and probably just wanted to catch her off guard.

The blush, he gets. A nice mid-rose shade. Bernie shakes her head, though, looking at the couple ahead. "...Iiii don' think he's my type," she replies, and glances sidelong at the Strider, adding, "plus, there's that whole not knowin' someone well enough thing, 'f I might r'mind ya. An' yeah, 's what I was thinkin', too, th' first bit. So I say we get artistic or leave 'em alone..."

"Awwww." Collin sniffs at that dissing of his suggestion. "But you're blushing again. Hee." He snickers, pointing at her as well. Ah, the point of it all. "So quick. Think of something. It's your turn."

"I do that," the Gnawer replies with as much dignity as she can muster before shrugging, and grinning again. "An' MY turn, again? Pfft, some deity, makin' th' prophets do all the work. Typical. Mm. Lessee..." She quirks a half-smile, "...well, I s'pose we could always catch 'em an' try t' convert 'em t' Orthodox Collinism... be better if we had lit'rature, though."

"It would. I want to start getting pamphlets and hand t hem out to people. Put a big picture of my face on it and say 'Convert to the Way of Collin'. I can become my own religion. Oh yes. I will." Collin puffs up again, waving and calling out the two, "Hey! Hold up! We just wanted to say we're sooooorry! We didn't mean to annoy you! But the drugs were too good!"

"Dibs on th' Main Prophet p'sition," Bernie replies loud enough for only him to hear before turning her brightest grin on the unlucky couple ahead and adding her own wave as backup.

"Don't you have more?" He calls out again. The two are looking a bit confused and all the more nervous. And who can blame them? "Please?" His tone takes on a slight whine to it. "I just want a little sniffin' lovey-dooovey!" He extends that o sound good.

"C'mon," Bernie calls afterward, wheedling, as the couple pick up the pave a tad again, "aw, don' be like that, we don' wanna hurtcha none or anythin'! C'moooonnnn...."

"Please?" Collin calls out to them, cupping his hands over his mouth as they hurry away. "We just want a little of your candy! Some hot tarts and some bon bons! Please! I'll even do the Roger Rabbit Please! P-p-puhlease?"

The woman of the pair starts laughing. There's a slightly hysterical edge to it, but it's a laugh nonetheless. The guy with her looks back, and seems torn for a moment before he calls back, "Um, sorry, I think you have us confused with someone else..." Bernie puts on her best crestfallen look. "No jelly beans an' pixie sticks?" she asks, forlorn.

In a similarly forlorn tone, Collin gives his best puppy-dog eyes. "No Kit-Kats to gimme a break with?" He makes a motion with his hands as if he were snapping something in twain.

"Nonea those little strawb'ry hard candies with th' sorta liquidy centers?" Bernie chimes in again, sounding near tears. The man looks seriously bewildered, and actually stops, checking his pockets while his companion looks at him half-horrified. "...I've got a couple of those swirly mints," he offers, looking at what he's found.

"Oooh! Swirly *mints!*" His tongue hangs out and he takes a few lurching steps forward. "I want the swirly mints!"

Bernie's eyes widen behind her glasses, and she follows along like one hypnotised. "Oooh!" she echoes, "red an' white peppermint goodness...."

Hypnotized as well, Collin's eyes track them. His stomach is shaking, though. You can tell. He's having a hard time keeping himself from keeling over laughing. "Toss 'em over? Please? We'll be your best friends forever and ever!" The couple, of course, is more than a little disturbed by this. It probably woun't be long before the guy does just that.

"C'mon, man!" Bernie pleads, eyes wide, "don't tease... please... give us th' sugar, man! C'mon..." She holds her hands out in supplication. The woman looks seriously disturbed now; the man almost as much, but with a hint of something like amusement as well. "I think maybe you've had enough," he mutters, just loud enough for the Garou to make out, and chucks the candies to them, one at a time, with a smooth and fairly accurate underhand throw.

Collin lunges! He grabs at the candies, trying to get them before Bernie can. In fact, he wants to see if he can't hog them. "MINE! ALL MINE!" Those are the first things out of his mouth.

Bernie squeaks in outrage as her partner betrays her, and lunges herself, trying to get one. When it's clear that Collin's caught all but the last, which falls to the ground a good fifteen feet ahead of them, she scurries toward it, while the couple pauses to watch in startlement.

"Rar!" Collin lunges at Bernie, trying to tackle her from behind and knock her away from the peppermint candy. He's not playing too rough, however, and he's mindful of things like the nearby walls. These chinks in the show are not likely to be apparent to the watching couple, however. "Giddoff! It's *mine!*"

"Miiiiiiiiiiiiine!!!" the girl squeals, snatching the candy from the ground as the tackle actually pushes her forward and down to reach it. She rolls over onto her back, struggling mainly with her legs as her hands frantically unwrap the sweet and shove it into her mouth. "NYAH!" she manages from around the candy.

To which, Collin will sit on her and try to pin her and see about prying the candy out of her mouth with his fingers, "No! NOo! Mine!" Meanwhile, that poor couple is horrified and likely taking the opportunity to *flee*. And who can blame them?

Bernie keeps her mouth firmly closed, tossing her head from side to side to avoid the prying fingers as the fights the would-be thief off. "Mnnnnn!" she insists, as the sound of the fleeing couple's feet echoes on the pavement through the chill late night air, "MNNN!!!!!"

"Don't make me kiss you," Collin whispers, teasingly, trying to get her to gape. "Open up, woman! It is mine! Mine, do you hear? *Mine!*" He starts bouncing up and down on her stomach, saying 'Mine!' in time with the bouncing. Ah, a couple of drug addicted teenagers, to most onlookers. Nothing unusual in this part of town!

Bernie shakes her head vigorously, lips pressed hard together. All the threat gets is a slightly wider-eyed look that quite clearly conveys, "you wouldn't!" before the curls are moving again as she fights him off. "MNN!" she insists again, vehemently.

"Smoochysmoochy-coo!" He leans down, wagging his tongue, but he tries to stay atop her. It's not easy, but he's relying purely on his speed to keep him in place, squirming. Eventually, though, she should be able to get him off of her and send him sprawling to the pavement and to enjoy the spoils of war.

Bernie's nose wrinkles as she struggles, until suddenly she snickers. "Y'wan'it?" she mumbles through clenched teeth and scarely open lips, "....fine..." Ptoo! She spits out what remains of it -- which, by this point, is maybe half of it, a plain white sticky little disc, now -- so it bounces off his forehead, and then collapses back onto the pavement, cracking up.

"Aigh!" Collin falls back, clutching his forehead as if it was a grievous wound. He's off her and on the ground himself. It doesn't take long befor he's cracking up himself.

Bernie keeps laughing until she's gasping for breath, then, gradually, starts to regain proper control, though it keeps dissolving in fits of giggles as she sits up again, glancing over in the direction the victims fled, and then back to Collin.

Collin covers his mouth with his hand, tears staining his face from laughing so hard. He sits up and looks at Bernie, finally able to catch his breath. It did take him a while. "Oh, that was great. That was perfect."

Bernie laughs again, nodding. "Poss'bly even d'vine," she agrees, followed by another quick bout of giggles. "Didja =see= her =face=?"

"I did! They were both freaked out of their mind, but they'll giggle about it later, I'm sure. We've just provided something to them that they'll remember for the *rest* of their lives." Collin points out.

Bernie snickers, nodding. "We're total benefactors! AND we get mints outta it, so hey, win-win situation..." She giggles some more, and eventually, stands, stretching a bit. "...so, whatcha wanna do now?"

"Not sure. Hmmm." Collin looks thoughtful. "Honestly, I'm fresh out of ideas. We harassed people. We could scour for booze?"

Bernie runs a hand through her curls, and nods. "Yeah, we could do that... a'ight... where d'ya wanna start, then? There's always crap in th' Church basement, prollem bein', it's crap..."

Collin hmms. "Well, crap is better than nothing and we're not likely to find someone willing to buy it and no place is really *selling* at this hour, so we're stuck with crap, it looks like. On the plus side, crap normally gets you drunk real quick."

Bernie makes a face. "I dunno. Almost be worth walkin' all th' way t' th' Farm. Muuuuuch better quality. An' I know where they're keepin' it, too. But, then 'gain, 's a looong walk."

"Yeah. That's not quite worth it. The walk is way too long for this. We might not even be in the mood to get drunk anymore." Collin points out, "We'll be too tired. We'd fall over and go 'sleep! Woo!'"

Bernie grins, and shakes her head. "Yeah, maybe. But, see, I'm all corrupted by th' Fianna," she explains, voice quiet as she starts back toward the church, "far as drinks go. But maybe we'll be lucky an' there'll be somethin' not-crap there." A quick smirk, "...just work a li'l miracle."

"I'll do my best." Collin announces. "But if you were corrupted by the Fianna, why would you have problems with oral sex?" Collin asks, innocently. Back to the Church he goes, though.

"I referred merely t' my taste in bev'rages," Bernie sniffs, only the slightest bit pink, before grinning evilly and adding, "an' I never said I had problems with it. I just said YOU weren't gettin' any."

"Hey. I'm god. You're my prophet. It's in the contract." Collin sniffs, then winks and passes into the church.

Bernie blinks, following along and toward the basement door, "...somehow, I get a brainfault at th' concept of God an' Moses in that particular position...."

"Well, God is the embodyment of Love, right?" Collin snickers, then says, "Now show me to the beer!"

Bernie snickers herself and shakes her head, stepping over to the fridge and opening it with a flourish. "Ta da," she declares, as it reveals vast amounts of roast pork wrapped in newspaper and quite a selection of cheap domestic beers. She doesn't take any of them herself, instead rifling through all the cupboards and drawers to see if there's anything stronger. And preferably less nasty.

"Mmn." See, Collin deosn't seem to mind nasty. "It's better than potato vodka." seems to be his rationale. He says just that, in fact. He leans over and snags a beer, opens it up and gulps it down. Quickly. Then he's wheezing. A lot.

Bernie pauses in her search, glancing over to the other raggie. "Y'a'ight?" she asks, head cocked.

"Yeah. It's just...really crappy." Collin coughs, clears his throat, and pounds on his chest once.

Bernie almost cackles at that. "I =told= you. I warned you, but hell, no one ever listens t' th' Prophets..." She shakes her head, going back to her search. "'s all complete bogwater in there.... oh, hey, whassis?" She pulls a three-quarters full bottle from way in the back of a cupboard. "...Jack Daniels," she discovers, reading the label, and sets it up on the counter.

"Woohoo! Jack's!" Collin cheers, then head right over to the bottle. He picks it up, takes a whiff of it after opening it.

Bernie roots around in the cupboard a little more, in the futile hope that there might be something all the way to =good= in there, but gives up, closing it again, and stands. "Oughta do," she remarks, eyeing it warily, "s'pose we oughta find glasses."

"It should do. And, nah, we'll live from the bottle! It's the way real men do it!" He tips the bottle back, carefully, and swallows the Jack's experimentally.

Bernie snickers. "Oddly 'nough, I was unner th' impression you'd noticed I'm notta man, real or otherwise. Though I s'pose if this's news you woulda been nice an' shocked 'f I'd said yes..." Despite this semi-protest, she holds out a hand to take the bottle from him, and takes a rather tentative sip herself.

"Well," Collin tells her, "There's only *one* way for me to know for sure." He hands the bottle over and waits for it to be handed back.

There's a tiny wince as she drinks, then a thoughtful look before she returns the bottle to him. "That'll do," she decides, and wanders over toward a handy pile of blankets and such, across the room from where the cub is sleeping soundly. "An' 'zat so, huh? An' here I thought you were s'posta be omiscient."

"When God is in an Avatar," Collin points out, "God doesn't have access to *all* his omniscience. It's the Way of Things, unfortunately. I am but the Mouth."

Bernie grins, and sits down crosslegged on the soft fabrics, leaning up against the wall. A hand goes out in silent request for the bottle. "How 'ppropriate," she comments.

Collin settles down as well, getting comfortable. The bottle is handed back over. "Isn't that the whole point?"

"Which," the Gnawer asks, taking a rather larger sip this time, and then pausing to recover before she continues, "appropriateness?"

"That I am but the mouth." Collin quirks a grin. "Appropriate to *both* veins of conversation, after all." He waits for the bottle to be handed back, and when it is, he tips it back for another swallow himself. "Euugh."

Bernie laughs, both at the comment and the reaction, and flushes a little again. "Yeah, s'pose so..." When then pass off is made, she takes her swallow with another wince, but no noises, and then returns it, sighing fairly contentedly and relaxing more against the wall.

"Mmmn." Collin has another drink. The bottle appears to be rapidly diminishing. "We're going to get hit by that warm, fuzzy feeling that tells us we're getting close to the land of drunkards. Or we should be soon, I hope, if thiss stuff is at all potent."

Bernie giggles. "Well. It doesn' feel quite th' same as th', whatsit, um, starts with an' 'L' an' sounds all gaelic, or th' other, Mc-somethin', I think..." She snirks and shakes her head, "I obviously gotta study up on these names... aaanyway." Accepting the bottle back, she drinks again, only wincing a little bit this time.

"Oh, shit. I don't even remember the name of that stuff. Crap." Collin looks a little irritated with himself about that. "I just don't. Man. I wish I did, though. But it's not like we have access to it here anyways." He sniffs, then hands it back over once he's done his sip. That bottle is getting closer and closer to empty.

"'s true," Bernie agrees, nodding, "there's onea 'em at th' Farmhouse, though. 's impressive stuff, y'know?" And speaking of alcohol. Another drink, lowering the level in the bottle some more. She lifts it up to gauge the remaining amount, and giggles, giving it a little swish to watch the light play on the swirling liquid before she hands it over.

"Mmmn. Liquid. you do realize this is going to make us piss like race horses soon," Collin says, ruefully.

Bernie giggles, leaning her head back against the wall and looking upward at the ceiling. "Ohhhhhhhh, th' horror.... indeed it is th' wages of sin..." A vague gesture of her hand toward an area somewhere to one side, "all pissin' t' be performed over =there=..."

"Well, it'll at least help me find out the answer!" Collin announces, firmly, then slumps back to stare up at the ceiling. "This is much better. It's been ages since I got a good buzz."

It takes a moment before Bernie parses that, and then she laughs again, reaching over to reclaim the bottle. "Gimme that," she demands mildly, taking another good swallow of it. "=I= think 's perfickly obvious without havin' t' do an in-depth investigation..."

He relinquishes the bottle in time and then takes it back when she's done, of course. "Well, yeah. You might think so. But when you're buzzed, everything becomes a little hazy and more direct evidence is required." He snickers, then rests his head on the cushions. "I think I shall fall asleep like this." And he doesn't. Not yet, anyways." but he's in Zen State. (Should make that a college sweatshirt.)

Bernie grins in a rather silly way, still looking upward, and takes the bottle again, humming something random softly to herself. "'s a good way t' fall asleep," she remarks, before sipping some more. "Y'know, you're a really fuckin' terrible influence, God. We oughta hang out more."

"I didn't influence you too terribly. Your pants are still on." Collin snickers. "But we should. It's fun."

Bernie snickers at that, and turns her head without untipping it to look at him, "...'s a point. 's prolly unwise t' be gettin' drunk with ya, too, then, come t' thinka it. Y'know. Impaired judgment an' all'at." She takes her turn with the bottle anyway.

"Your pants *still* aren't off. This is hardly impaired judgement, you see. If your judgement was impaired, you might have actually taken them off by this point, but it seems you have kept your wits about you. Oh, woe is I." Collin lolls his head back, limp-wristed hand to forehead.

"Y'know, I always thought," Bernie muses, gesturing vaguely with the bottle, "shouldn' that be 'Woe am I'? How come 's always Woe is me? I mean, y'wouldn' say, like, 'Drunk is me'. For a random 'zample." She pauses. "Maybe 's a diff'rent parta speech though. Like... drunkness. Drunkness is me... nah, tha' still soun's better as Drunkness am I... I think..."

"Well, maybe if you were speaking in 'Hulk Parlance', then it'd be 'Drunk is me'. or 'Drunk is Hulk!'." Collin grunts. "You know, I was going to do that as a pack. The Avengers. I was going to be Thor."

Bernie giggles, thinking about that. "I di'n' have anythin' nifty like that, jus' a purpose. But doesn' matter now 'cause I'm inna 'nother pack an' all. So maybe 'f I ever stop bein' I'll think 'bout it 'gain..."

"Purpose is good," agrees Collin, understandingly. "My purpose is to be drunk.

"This," Bernie decides after a moment's consideration, "is a wise an' good purpose." She can't remember whether she just took a drink, or was just about to take one, so she does it just to be safe before returning the thing.

More drinks are taken by Collin. He another, then another. Just in case Bernie ended up taking two. "Ahhhh. This is the life. Getting drunk among friends. Or just a friend in this case. It's a bonding experience."

"But notta bondage experience," Bernie remarks, brain-to-mouth censor lulled into laziness by the booze, "'cause that'd be Bad an' Wrong. An' stuff." She only takes one drink when the bottle returns, but it's a little bigger than the earlier ones. For some reason the stuff just seems so much more pleasant now.

"Well, yeah. But if there's no touching, then it's okay. Bondage doesn't always have touching, see!" Collin announces, proudly. "I read this on a website or something." Mmn. Pleasant bottles. He slavers on it when it gets back to him and has another drink. Down goes the liquid.

Bernie makes a face as the bottle comes back slimy. "Ew. Don' slobber, 's nasty." She leans over and wipes it off on his shirt before taking her own drink. "An' don' backwash, either, 'cause ew..." Her brow furrows as she returns the container. "So how th' hell d'ya tie someone up without touchin' 'em?" she queries.

"Gloves?" Collin suggests.

"Oh." A pause. "I guess I was thinkin' =more= not-touchy than that. Like, y'know. Telekinesis or some shit. Or havin' someone else do th' tyin', but then they'd still be doin' th' touchin'..." She shakes her head a bit.

"Well, no. See, once their tied you don't have to do any touching." Collin explains.

Bernie nods. "Yeahbut, t' get 'em tied up, y'gotta..." She shrugs. "S'pose it doesn' really matter seein' as we already established... somethin'. I knew where I was goin' with that, a moment 'go..."

"We established that you're taking your pants off?" Collin says, hopefully.

Bernie blinks, pausing just as she was about to take a drink. "We have?" she asks, sounding genuinely confused for a moment.

"Indeed." Collin nods his head up and down, cheek on the cushion. He holds his hand out.

"....huh," Bernie remarks, sounding bemused, "...tha's odd." She finishes taking the drink, and passes the bottle over, then looks down at her pants curiously.

He tips the bottle back, enjoying the taste of this stuff. It's getting better and better all the time. He's not paying attention to Bernie's eyeing her pants right now. He's focused solely on the joys of alcohol.

Bernie, on the other hand, stares at them a while, brow still furrowed, as if they might have an explanation of when and why they might've agreed to this. The lowering of the bottle again distracts her, though, and she reaches over to reclaim it.

Collin hands it over. "Careful," he mumbles. "There's not much left."

"An' whose fault is that?" Bernie scolds mildly, before taking another mouthful, and returning the rest. She lists slightly to one side, and blinks slowly a couple times. "...I think maybe I'm gonna go t' sleep here too. 's comfy an'... stuff."

"But..but your pants." Collin slurs, pouting. "Yeah. Sleep. Mmmmn." He shifts, looking quite comfortable.

Bernie doesn't take the bottle back, instead curling down into the various blankets and cushions, and a little toward the warmth of the other Ragabash. She stifles a yawn. "Mmhmm. Th'... an' th' yeah. Sleep. Pan's'll haf'a wait..."

Collin nghs quietly. That's all. No oral sex for him!

Not even the spanking. The peril has been avoided. The rest (bar the possible snoring) is silence.