"I told Rina, I'm just here to help."
Oct. 11th, 2007 05:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
renferretMouse meets Salem and learns there's no getting out of eldership.
Safehouse: Common Area(#2947RAJ)
The foyer of this house is set off from the living room with its octagonal bump-out by a four foot high halfwall. Stairs lead up from the foyer, turning and disappearing to the right, and a wooden door with a keycard lock claims the wall opposite the living room. The rest of the main floor is taken up by a small bathroom across the hallway from a dining room which is separated from the kitchen at the back of the house by another half-wall. The decor is decidedly sparse - white walls, beige carpeting in the living and dining rooms and down the hall, unremarkable vinyl in the foyer and kitchen.
A used couch and a pair of recliners are grouped around a coffee table in the living room, with a foursome of wooden chairs claiming the bump out for quieter conversation. The dining room boasts a white laminate table with four aluminum and vinyl-upholstered chairs - too new to be 'vintage', too old to be trendy. The appliances and cupboards in the kitchen are new - or at least refurbished to look like it - and a door leads out to the backyard from there.
Up the stairs are a number of empty rooms where anyone affiliated with the Sept can crash and an office for private meetings. The Glass Walkers have their own area accessible via a locked door off the foyer. The main doors themselves lead back out to the front porch of the house.
Contents:
Chris
Printshop Boxes: Reds/HP
Obvious exits:
Porch Guest Room Office Glass Walker Area
Salem exits the Glass Walker area of the house, entering the common areas.
Salem has arrived.
Knock, knock, goes the front door.
Rising from the table where he's poring over some large-scale sewer plans- evidently copied from city hall, Chris flips open the peephole and takes a glance out. "'Lo?"
Salem is making an inventory of the common-side pantry, making notes of what's needed in regards to foodstuffs and other supplies, when the knock comes. He glances over toward the front of the house, then when Chris handles it, goes back to his task.
Mouse is on the other side. She waves two fingers as Chris looks through the peephole, though she's probably been waving them since she knocked.
"Oh, hey!" Chris opens the door at once, a smile on his face. "Come on in, Mouse." He steps to the side, holding the door open for her.
At hearing "Mouse", Salem looks up again, then sets down his notepad and walks out toward the front room, a somber figure in black long-sleeved t-shirt and blue jeans.
Mouse steps inside, raking fingers through her hair in an apparent attempt to get it to behave--it's not working--and holding what looks like a black coat draped over the other arm. "Thanks," she says to Chris. "Is J--" Huh. She stops talking as she spies Salem, though her expression seems somewhat obscured by those dark glasses she's wearing. "Hey."
Once Mouse has entered the room, Chris lets himself fade into the background a little, going back to his photocopied charts and making copious notes and annotations on the maps themselves.
Salem gives a nod. "Evening." The greyhaired Philodox walks forward, extending a hand to the woman. "You're the new arrival Rina mentioned, I gather."
"Yeah," the woman replies, and as that hand is offered, she reaches out with one of her own to take it. Like the back of her hand, and everything else for that matter, her palm is slightly rough with those thin scars. "Mouse. And you, well. You're prrrobably not Nani or Sally, I'm guessing, so that means you're either Timothy or Tu or Ryan. But I'm going to make a pretty obvious guess and say you're not any of them, and you're Jack Salem." Faint nervousness is bleeding into her otherwise amiable tone.
Chris continues to work on his research.
Salem's smile is faint but polite enough; he grips her hand firmly for a moment before releasing it. "Good guess. Jack Salem, halfmoon, current elder of the tribe. Have a seat." He nods toward the sitting area.
Mouse echoes that smile, though that nervousness seems to show there too. "Yeah, well, I kind've cheated." She follows his nod, and then heads in that direction, toward one of the chairs. "I was out at the farmhouse place."
"Oh?" With just a glance toward Chris, enough to note approvingly that the cub is busy, he takes a seat in an armchair near Mouse. "What did you think of it? I believe Rina mentioned you were from Chicago or New York..." He trails off questioningly.
"New York," Mouse responds, and either by conscious effort or simply the act of sitting down, she manages to banish most of that nervousness from being visible. "Sept of the Green. And, ah...it's...different. A whole lot of different. Got to see Kevin out there too, as luck'd have it."
Salem's brow furrows in mild confusion until he realizes that she means she saw Kevin at the farmhouse, not in New York City. Then he nods. "A caern in Central Park doesn't quite compare to one in the middle of an actual forest. And St. Claire is no Big Apple."
Chris sits back for a few moments, tapping against his teeth with the pencil he was using. One hand lifts to rub at his forehead, the plans beginning to give him a headache as he struggles to commit them to memory.
Mouse hehs. "Yeah. Just the whole taking lupus thing on the bawn, /that's/ something of a new experience. Anyway." She sucks in a deep breath, and then pulls those glasses off. The eyes beneath them are anything but human. "So I figure I'll just leap over the prelim stuff and get right to the point. Y'want my full intro? Otherwise, I've heard about Kevin's things, and I heard a bunch about you, and I just wanna get out that I didn't come /down/ here to stomp on anyone's turf, rank or no. I told Rina, I'm just here to help."
Salem blinks once, thought whether this is at sight of her eyes or something else is hard to say. He sits back and crosses his legs, propping one boot on his opposite knee. "What rank are you?" His tone is decidedly neutral.
Mouse grimaces, and taps the shades against her knee for a moment. "Fostern," she says, and she says it apologetically, almost. "Sorry. I thought Rina would've mentioned, since she was the first one reacting to it. Fostern Theurge. And well, obviously Metis."
"Ah." Salem nods. "Rina didn't mention it, no. But, good to know." He rests his elbows on the arms of his chair and laces his fingers together. "Well, if you /do/ stay and become a member of the Sept, and believe me, we could use you, you will be elder of the tribe. Are you prepared for that?"
Tap, tap, goes the glasses, twice more. "Well, I've had about two days to try and digest the idea," Mouse replies, glancing down, and then glancing back up at the other Walker. "I'll be totally honest, it still scares the shit out of me. But no, I'm not leaving you guys."
Salem nods again. "I'll be happy to share with you whatever information you need to ease the transition. Have you discussed chiminage with anyone yet?" Utterly businesslike.
Mouse lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Well, as it happens, I ran into a whole slew of Shadow Lords at the farmhouse, and one of them was the alpha. She said talk to you first, unless I couldn't find you, then talk to her."
"Happily, you /did/ find me," Salem says. "Did you have anything in mind, or are there any particular skills that you can bring to bear for the Sept's benefit?"
She seems to ease a little more, at least visibly. "I wasn't sure what you guys go in for," Mouse explains. "At the Green, it was usually just give a gift--food, blankets, money--or gives some Gnosis to the Caern itself. I've got money, if y'need bills paid, I know some ri...okay, I know a lot of rites, know some gifts. Know how to shoot things and occasionally blow them up. One thing I won't be much good for is fighting though. I hit like a wet paper towel."
"Teaching gifts and rites is a fairly common chiminage at the Hidden Walk," Salem says, rubbing absently at his beard. "As for the bills, we have those squared away... at the moment, anyway. Apart from Tu and Timothy and to a certain extent Rina, we're not exactly a wealthy tribe here."
"Well that's my check in the pot either way," Mouse replies. "So you know, a bit more. Is there anything in particular you guys /do/ need? Err, besides the whole uh, elder thing. And the Theurge bits, because it sounds like you haven't had one for a while."
Salem grunts. "We have the worst time keeping Theurges for some reason, yes. Our last was a boy named Cat, who I rited a few years ago. He's since wandered off."
Mouse nods. "Yeah, heard mention of him. Also Kevin said something about a spirit eating one too. So yeah, I'm not going to wander off and I'll sure try /not/ to be eaten."
"Well, if you can handle the Umbra of the Big Apple, I'm sure you won't have any trouble with St. Claire." Salem unfolds his legs and sits up. "So, as to chiminage... I'm thinking either you can teach a number of gifts and-or rites to members of the Sept -- three, say -- or if you know Rite of Binding, perhaps you could make some talens that could be of use in the near future."
"I know it," the metis replies. "But then, some poor Fury kid wants me to teach him a rite already anyway, so I'm good either way. Oh hell, you want a rundown? I've actually got one you might be interested in, as a half moon. Punishment sort of thing, but not as nasty as the Stone or anything. Makes you fucking rabidly hungry for a week, no matter what you eat."
"Oh?" Salem raises an eyebrow, Spocklike.
Mouse grins slightly. "Yeah. Use it on someone, and for seven days, nothing he eats is gonna satisfy him for more than an hour. Doesn't actually /hurt/ him, he won't fall over from starvation or anything like that, but he'll sure as hell thinks he's starving."
"Interesting," the halfmoon says slowly. He considers for a moment, then nods. "All right. Your chiminage is set to teaching three members of the Sept a rite or gift. Go ahead and hit the Fury first, then me. I don't think finding a third should be too difficult." He smiles, very slightly.
Again, she echoes that smile, though this time Mouse seems much more relaxed. "Sure thing, boss. And meantime, you know, anything you need otherwise. You want my number?"
"Oh, absolutely, and allow me to give you mine as well." The ritual exchanging of cellphone numbers -- a common, nay, vital part of urban Garou networking.
Once done, Mouse stuffs her phone back into her pocket. "Right. I had some questions," she glances toward Chris, "but nothing really pressing, just followup stuff on what I've heard. So if you need to head off, I can hang on to 'em."
Salem sits back in his chair again, getting comfortable. "Ask away."
Mouse nods. "Alright. Like I said, I got a lot of information about Kevin, and I went and saw him and all. And I know better than to trust the convicted guy at his word, especially a young Ragabash. /He/ says he saved the Caern, and the spirit was already going that way, he just waited until the last damned minute. Other guys say he /led/ the spirit there on purpose, with a general 'fuck the rangers' or something. Was wondering if you had any insight on that, other than the obvious--that he could really use a good lesson about spirits and why Weaver plus Wyld is a bad idea."
Salem's expression hardens a bit at this. "He led the spirit to the caern. He had some foolish idea that because it was a Weaver spirit, it was a friend to our tribe and thus should be helped. He did not howl to warn the Guardians or to get help. And after the fact, he tried to shift blame /onto/ the Guardians. Neither is this the first time he's shown a complete lack of sense."
Mouse snorts; there's humor in it, if dry and dark. "Yeah, that's basically what he told me, beyond the leading part. And he tried to push the blame on the guardians, yeah. Like I said, he claimed it was already going that way. Semantics. He was still retarded." She looks curious. "Well, I've already heard about the charach," she says, handling the word as though it were fragile glass, in a way that suggests she's heard about more than just Kevin's, "What else kind've things has he done?"
Salem's expression doesn't flicker. "Not just the charach, but then announcing it in the middle of a Moot while holding office during, and then trying to run away. Drawing insulting and perverted pictures on the farmhouse barn in some half-assed attempt at social commentary. As a cub, faking his own messy suicide in order to get a rise out of another cub." He exhales a breath sharply. "Not to mention taking the absolutely easiest road on his Rite of Passage. He was fortunate that the elder at the time was more charitable than I."
Mouse gives a low whistle. "That's quite a record. Alright, gonna make things hard to talk sense into his head. Next question. Those two cubs, Mick and Chris, told me about some incident involving a guy named Timothy, a ball of silver, and some cub that eventually left here because of the fallout from that and such. Didn't sound like you were in town at the time, but do you know anything about it?"
Salem glances over at Chris, then back at Mouse. "Nothing at all, unfortunately. Just that the cub went to train at the Sept her family came from."
Mouse nods once. "Alright. From the way they told it, it pissed me off, but again, not exactly objective witnesses. Lessee. /Oh/. Speaking of cubs. I know two of 'em are on their Rite already, but I'd like to get them shot, and show them silver--/in a slightly different manner/ than Timothy--as soon as possible, if that's kosher with you."
"Oh, absolutely," says Salem. "We have three cubs currently, the two on their Rite -- Sally and Chris -- and one more, Mick. All Ragabashes."
Mouse gives another quick, faint grin. "Great. I'll see about getting that done then. Met the boys, haven't met Sally yet. Heard about why Mick is squeaking like a hoarse chihuahua." She toys with her glasses. "I /think/ that's all I had for you. You wanna fling questions back?"
A few polite knocks sound on the door.
Dariya enters the house through the main front doors.
Dariya has arrived.
Salem's answer is, naturally, forestalled by the knock. "Excuse me," he says, and gets up to check the security monitor and then open the door. "Yes?" he says politely to the woman standing there.
Mouse nods and remains sitting, though she does turn her head curiously toward the door. Those dark glasses of hers are slid back on with a single smooth motion.
The dark-haired young woman draws a breath, as she looks up at the Walker's scarred face. Her expression betrays almost no reaction to the sight, but she seems to square herself a little, a deliberate straightening of her spine to meet the forbidding person before her. "My name is Dariya Nikolayevna Vishnevskaya," she says. "I am staying here. May I come in?"
Salem scrutinizes her for a moment before nodding and stepping aside to let her in. "I've heard of you. I apologize for not meeting you sooner. Kinfolk, yes?"
Mouse scrutinizes the new woman as best she's able behind the shades. She doesn't seem eager to stand up, however. "Oh. /Now/ I remember my other question. Smoking or non-smoking, this place?"
Dariya nods, stepping inside. Her posture is arrow-straight, graceful as a dancer's--but she ducks her head, so that the cropped fall of her hair swings forward to hide her cheeks.
Salem closes the door behind the new arrival. "Non-smoking within the house itself," he says, answering Mouse.
The Russian Kin studies Matilda for a moment, then turns to look back at Salem, somehow managing to convey poise and uncertainty at the same time with the same body language.
Mouse nods at Salem, and then shifts her attention back to Dariya with the slightest of head turns.
"Is there anything I can get for you, Ms. Vishnevskaya?" Salem asks the new arrival, politely. Not the slightest falter in the pronunciation of her name, either.
Kaz has arrived.
Dariya shakes her head minutely. "No," she says, "thank you." Another hint of diffidence shows in her expression, seeming uncomfortable there. "But may I please-- ask your name?"
After that second study, Mouse seems content to let the Shadow Lord kin and the former Shadow Lord make introductions. She pulls a box from her pocket--toothpicks, not cigarettes--and sticks one in her mouth.
Salem extends a hand to the kin. "Jack Salem, Philodox of the Glass Walkers. And this is Mouse." He indicates the woman in sunglasses over in the sitting area.
Mouse lifts a hand toward Dariya. "Glass Walkers too," she explains. "And metis, so let me know if you're not used to the freaky stuff yet."
Dariya sets a slender hand into his, and grips firmly, giving him a small nod--as if to thank him--and releasing his hand. The mention of the woman's nickname brings a flicker of bemusement; then when Mouse speaks, Dariya glances over to her. By the time she reaches the last sentence, the Russian woman is looking back to Salem as if for guidance, clearly not understanding the import of Matilda's words.
There's a buzz on the door.
"Are you new to the family?" Salem asks the kin on his way to yet again play doorman. His tone hints that he suspects the answer is 'yes'.
Mouse doesn't start breaking out any 'freaky stuff' yet, at least. She's just sitting there. "...Or if you don't know what that means, I can explain." She sounds relaxed and genial.
"Very," Dariya answers, a bit wryly. She glances to Mouse, and comes as far as the end of the half-wall.
Kaz ambles in. "Yoyo," she says, cheerfully. "Man, I needa key to this place or somethin'. Except, it's yours. So, I don't. But you must get tired of me ringin' the doorbell, is all I'm sayin'."
Salem gives the new arrival a faint, crooked smile as he closes the door behind her. "If you want a key, Kaz, simply ask. What's new? Oh, and have you met Dariya and Mouse?" He indicates the two (very different) women.
She /looks/ mostly normal. Apart from those scars, and Salem has scars; nastier looking scars, even. And apart from being a skinny beanpole, and wearing sunglasses inside and at night. Mouse glances toward the door, offers Kaz a way, and then looks back to Dariya. "Yeah, we've met. Twice already. Kaz, you're following me."
Dariya smiles--yes, actually smiles, although it's a small and subdued expression--at the sound of the Gnawer's voice. She turns and answers Salem's question implicitly, with the warmth in her voice. "Hello, Kaz."
Kaz says, "Oh. Um." A brief, figety pause. "Can I have a key, Salem?" There, that was easy. Or, possibly, not. "An' yeah," she adds, as she limps livingroomwards. "Mouse, I'm /stalkin'/ you, doncha know." Except, not. "An' Dariya's a good un'. If real damn new t'things. You doin' OK, there?" (This is directed to the Kin.)
"I'll get one to you in the next day or so," Salem tells Kaz, promptly enough. He gives Dariya another scrutinizing look, then retakes his place in the armchair.
Dariya leans against the wall by the stairs, watching the movements from a distance. "I am fine," she tells Kaz, before the woman has gone too far. "But I need to find a new place, so if you hear anything, tell me?"
Mouse chews on her toothpick, grinning. "I /knew/ you were." This to Kaz, obviously. Then to Dariya, "Would you like an explanation?"
Kaz nods a little, slowing to a stop so she can see Dariya, as well as Salem. "Yeah. Will do." And then she tilts her head at Mouse. "Explanation f'what?"
"Metis," Salem says simply.
Kaz blinks. "Oh, um. I never did tell you about th' Litany, did I?"
Straightening, Dariya crosses into the living room toward them. She halts after only a few steps, however, studying the three Garou. "You do not have to, right now. If there are... things you are, things you have to talk about." There isn't anything attention-grabbing or martyred about her manner, just a plain practicality.
Mouse shakes her head. "Nah, unless Salem had questions to fling at me. Which I doubt he can't do anyhow. 'Sides, this is pretty fast."
Kaz also shakes her head. "I just came over t'harass them folks. And get a Coke. So I'm all set, really. How much detail you want?"
"Besides," Salem says, "the more information you have, the better."
"Garou biology one-oh-one," Mouse says, reaching toward her sunglasses, but not doing anything with them yet. "There are three breeds of us. Homids, which are human-born, lupus which are wolf-born, and metis. That's Kaz and me. Metis are what happens when two Garou have a kid together."
Kaz limps into the living room, still Cokeless. She perches on the arm of the couch. "We're all of us sterile, us metis. And we have some kinda deformity, be it physical or mental. I got weird ears when I ain't in homid. You want, I can show them to you?"
Salem seems content to let Kaz and Mouse handle the explanations, though he does keep an eye on the kinfolk, gauging her reactions.
Dariya answers with a tiny shake of her head, glancing to Kaz a little distractedly. "You do not have to," she says quickly.
Kaz studies her quietly. "Yeah, OK." She doesn't offer again. "Anyway, so we have thirteen main laws, and the first one says we can't mate with each other. Partially because, hey, makin' more metis is a /bad idea/."
Mouse looks from Kaz, to Dariya. "Me, I've got some really weird shit too. My eyes, which're probably the easiest if you wanna see any of it, and then my back is way freaking long, and then I've got a tail." She waits for Kaz, then chimes in again. "Which it is, making metis, which is probably the one thing just about everyone one of us can agree on, 'cause metis are born in our werewolf form. Bet you can imagine what a problem that is."
Dariya swallows, but remains expressionless as she gives a small nod.
Kaz adds, "Most tribes that ain't mine or Mouse's kinda look down on us. 'Cause, well, shouldn't have been born, that kinda shit."
"All bullshit, of course," Salem says blandly.
Dariya glances to Salem, a bit sharply, looking to find out whether he's serious.
Mouse makes an agreeable noise in response to Kaz. "And even our two tribes, growing up inside /sucks/ ass." Her head turns toward Salem for a moment as he speaks, and then she looks back to Dariya, and jerks a thumb toward the philodox. "See, that sort've thing makes me really happy about where I landed up."
Cutter has arrived.
Kaz tells Dariya, "He's kinda a maverick." She levers herself off the couch and limps into the kitchen, adding, "But he's /our/ maverick. Dammit."
Salem seems perfectly serious. "We urban werewolves in general tend to be more pragmatic. I've personally met far too many worthy Garou who were Metis to disregard them." He gives Kaz a look, eyebrow rising, then smirks.
"I under-stand," Dariya says quietly. "Because fight is here, yes? Your... War, is in the city."
Dariya watches Salem, her eyes sober, her expression betraying very little.
"Everywhere," Mouse says, "But the city, that's the front lines." She plucks the toothpick out of her mouth. "You want to see the eyes? I'll keep the shades on if you don't feel ready for that."
Kaz gets a Coke out of the fridge, finally, and limps back to the living room. "Yah, pretty much. R'mind me t'give you a rundown on the rest've the laws, sometime-- It just seems like it'd give you a better understandin' of us, since you're hangin' with us some, and all."
There's a rap at the door, quiet but insistent.
Dariya glances over her shoulder to Mouse, her eyes narrowing a fraction. "It is not question of ready," she says quietly. "Just I would prefer not."
Dariya pages: *bordering* on confrontational. Not angry, but ... flat, emotionless.
Salem's phone bleeps. Just that, no-nonsense and no fancy ringtones. He excuses himself and heads out to take the call, though not before letting Cutter in.
"Understood," Mouse replies. "But I do take 'em off in here now and then so I can see, so feel free to throw a pillow at me if you come in while I'm reading or something."
Salem heads out to the foyer and out the front doors of the house.
Salem has left.
Kaz pops her Coke open. "So anyways. Why'd metis come up in th' first place?"
Cutter steps inside, a bit slow and stiff, and nods to Salem as he passes. He closes the door behind him and starts for the couch. He pulls up short as he notices the collection of people in the living room. Or maybe it's Kaz' comment. "Oh. Hey."
Dariya looks over toward the door, and a small smile lights her face, softens its edges. "Hello, Cutter."
Mouse puts the toothpick back into her mouth. "I mentioned I was one," she explains to Kaz, "And she didn't know what that meant."
Kaz shoots the Shadow Lord a grin. "Evenin'. How goes your stuff?" She glances at Mouse. "Oh, makes sense. I thought I said it when she was around, but I guess not."
Cutter grins, a little flushed. "Dasha. Good t'see you." He drops himself heavily onto the couch near her and smiles at Kaz. "Fuckin' tired. That farmhouse is a lot farther away when y'walking. Jesus *Christ*."
Mouse grunts at Kaz. "Yeah, don't think she much cared for being informed."
"I am right here," Dariya points out. She half-sits on the arm of the couch, next to Cutter.
Kaz swigs some Coke. "It's like... 10-15 miles, as the crow flies. So hey! That means you're gettin' loads more energetic and shit." Always look on the bright side of life. "Mouse don't think you cared much f'bein' informed," Kaz tells Dariya, solemnly. But with an amused spark in her eye.
Cutter grins up at Dariya. "But I don't believe her, speaking as one of y'teachers." He groans. "I shoulda grabbed somethin' *before* I sat down. I don't think I'm movin' again until tomorrow."
There's a small tightening around the corners of Mouse's mouth, just slightly upward.
Dariya tilts her head to look at the Shadow Lord. "What do you want? I will get it, for you."
Kaz mutters, "Scuse me while I go visit the little girls' room," and disappears that direction.
Cutter beams at Dariya. "Serious? Anything--something cold. I desperately need a drink."
Mouse drums her fingers on the armrest. "Yeah, think I'll head upstairs for at least a bit." She starts to stand, moving stiffly.
Dariya pauses uncertainly, having just rises to her feet. "It is pleasure to meet you, Mouse," she says, with a moment of something genuine in her smile.
Cutter touches the brim of his hat. "Good t'see you again. Even briefly."
Mouse pauses, hesitates, and then returns the smile, nodding once to Cutter. "I might be back if I don't end up falling asleep, but no promises. Enjoy y'selves."
"Good night," Dariya offers, seriously.
Cutter simply sinks into the couch at this point, pushing his shoes off with his feet.
"Night," Mouse replies, sounding amiable enough. She trudges up the stairs.
Dariya heads for the kitchen, and a short time later returns with two glasses: one water, and one some kind of red juice.
Safehouse: Common Area(#2947RAJ)
The foyer of this house is set off from the living room with its octagonal bump-out by a four foot high halfwall. Stairs lead up from the foyer, turning and disappearing to the right, and a wooden door with a keycard lock claims the wall opposite the living room. The rest of the main floor is taken up by a small bathroom across the hallway from a dining room which is separated from the kitchen at the back of the house by another half-wall. The decor is decidedly sparse - white walls, beige carpeting in the living and dining rooms and down the hall, unremarkable vinyl in the foyer and kitchen.
A used couch and a pair of recliners are grouped around a coffee table in the living room, with a foursome of wooden chairs claiming the bump out for quieter conversation. The dining room boasts a white laminate table with four aluminum and vinyl-upholstered chairs - too new to be 'vintage', too old to be trendy. The appliances and cupboards in the kitchen are new - or at least refurbished to look like it - and a door leads out to the backyard from there.
Up the stairs are a number of empty rooms where anyone affiliated with the Sept can crash and an office for private meetings. The Glass Walkers have their own area accessible via a locked door off the foyer. The main doors themselves lead back out to the front porch of the house.
Contents:
Chris
Printshop Boxes: Reds/HP
Obvious exits:
Porch Guest Room Office Glass Walker Area
Salem exits the Glass Walker area of the house, entering the common areas.
Salem has arrived.
Knock, knock, goes the front door.
Rising from the table where he's poring over some large-scale sewer plans- evidently copied from city hall, Chris flips open the peephole and takes a glance out. "'Lo?"
Salem is making an inventory of the common-side pantry, making notes of what's needed in regards to foodstuffs and other supplies, when the knock comes. He glances over toward the front of the house, then when Chris handles it, goes back to his task.
Mouse is on the other side. She waves two fingers as Chris looks through the peephole, though she's probably been waving them since she knocked.
"Oh, hey!" Chris opens the door at once, a smile on his face. "Come on in, Mouse." He steps to the side, holding the door open for her.
At hearing "Mouse", Salem looks up again, then sets down his notepad and walks out toward the front room, a somber figure in black long-sleeved t-shirt and blue jeans.
Mouse steps inside, raking fingers through her hair in an apparent attempt to get it to behave--it's not working--and holding what looks like a black coat draped over the other arm. "Thanks," she says to Chris. "Is J--" Huh. She stops talking as she spies Salem, though her expression seems somewhat obscured by those dark glasses she's wearing. "Hey."
Once Mouse has entered the room, Chris lets himself fade into the background a little, going back to his photocopied charts and making copious notes and annotations on the maps themselves.
Salem gives a nod. "Evening." The greyhaired Philodox walks forward, extending a hand to the woman. "You're the new arrival Rina mentioned, I gather."
"Yeah," the woman replies, and as that hand is offered, she reaches out with one of her own to take it. Like the back of her hand, and everything else for that matter, her palm is slightly rough with those thin scars. "Mouse. And you, well. You're prrrobably not Nani or Sally, I'm guessing, so that means you're either Timothy or Tu or Ryan. But I'm going to make a pretty obvious guess and say you're not any of them, and you're Jack Salem." Faint nervousness is bleeding into her otherwise amiable tone.
Chris continues to work on his research.
Salem's smile is faint but polite enough; he grips her hand firmly for a moment before releasing it. "Good guess. Jack Salem, halfmoon, current elder of the tribe. Have a seat." He nods toward the sitting area.
Mouse echoes that smile, though that nervousness seems to show there too. "Yeah, well, I kind've cheated." She follows his nod, and then heads in that direction, toward one of the chairs. "I was out at the farmhouse place."
"Oh?" With just a glance toward Chris, enough to note approvingly that the cub is busy, he takes a seat in an armchair near Mouse. "What did you think of it? I believe Rina mentioned you were from Chicago or New York..." He trails off questioningly.
"New York," Mouse responds, and either by conscious effort or simply the act of sitting down, she manages to banish most of that nervousness from being visible. "Sept of the Green. And, ah...it's...different. A whole lot of different. Got to see Kevin out there too, as luck'd have it."
Salem's brow furrows in mild confusion until he realizes that she means she saw Kevin at the farmhouse, not in New York City. Then he nods. "A caern in Central Park doesn't quite compare to one in the middle of an actual forest. And St. Claire is no Big Apple."
Chris sits back for a few moments, tapping against his teeth with the pencil he was using. One hand lifts to rub at his forehead, the plans beginning to give him a headache as he struggles to commit them to memory.
Mouse hehs. "Yeah. Just the whole taking lupus thing on the bawn, /that's/ something of a new experience. Anyway." She sucks in a deep breath, and then pulls those glasses off. The eyes beneath them are anything but human. "So I figure I'll just leap over the prelim stuff and get right to the point. Y'want my full intro? Otherwise, I've heard about Kevin's things, and I heard a bunch about you, and I just wanna get out that I didn't come /down/ here to stomp on anyone's turf, rank or no. I told Rina, I'm just here to help."
Salem blinks once, thought whether this is at sight of her eyes or something else is hard to say. He sits back and crosses his legs, propping one boot on his opposite knee. "What rank are you?" His tone is decidedly neutral.
Mouse grimaces, and taps the shades against her knee for a moment. "Fostern," she says, and she says it apologetically, almost. "Sorry. I thought Rina would've mentioned, since she was the first one reacting to it. Fostern Theurge. And well, obviously Metis."
"Ah." Salem nods. "Rina didn't mention it, no. But, good to know." He rests his elbows on the arms of his chair and laces his fingers together. "Well, if you /do/ stay and become a member of the Sept, and believe me, we could use you, you will be elder of the tribe. Are you prepared for that?"
Tap, tap, goes the glasses, twice more. "Well, I've had about two days to try and digest the idea," Mouse replies, glancing down, and then glancing back up at the other Walker. "I'll be totally honest, it still scares the shit out of me. But no, I'm not leaving you guys."
Salem nods again. "I'll be happy to share with you whatever information you need to ease the transition. Have you discussed chiminage with anyone yet?" Utterly businesslike.
Mouse lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Well, as it happens, I ran into a whole slew of Shadow Lords at the farmhouse, and one of them was the alpha. She said talk to you first, unless I couldn't find you, then talk to her."
"Happily, you /did/ find me," Salem says. "Did you have anything in mind, or are there any particular skills that you can bring to bear for the Sept's benefit?"
She seems to ease a little more, at least visibly. "I wasn't sure what you guys go in for," Mouse explains. "At the Green, it was usually just give a gift--food, blankets, money--or gives some Gnosis to the Caern itself. I've got money, if y'need bills paid, I know some ri...okay, I know a lot of rites, know some gifts. Know how to shoot things and occasionally blow them up. One thing I won't be much good for is fighting though. I hit like a wet paper towel."
"Teaching gifts and rites is a fairly common chiminage at the Hidden Walk," Salem says, rubbing absently at his beard. "As for the bills, we have those squared away... at the moment, anyway. Apart from Tu and Timothy and to a certain extent Rina, we're not exactly a wealthy tribe here."
"Well that's my check in the pot either way," Mouse replies. "So you know, a bit more. Is there anything in particular you guys /do/ need? Err, besides the whole uh, elder thing. And the Theurge bits, because it sounds like you haven't had one for a while."
Salem grunts. "We have the worst time keeping Theurges for some reason, yes. Our last was a boy named Cat, who I rited a few years ago. He's since wandered off."
Mouse nods. "Yeah, heard mention of him. Also Kevin said something about a spirit eating one too. So yeah, I'm not going to wander off and I'll sure try /not/ to be eaten."
"Well, if you can handle the Umbra of the Big Apple, I'm sure you won't have any trouble with St. Claire." Salem unfolds his legs and sits up. "So, as to chiminage... I'm thinking either you can teach a number of gifts and-or rites to members of the Sept -- three, say -- or if you know Rite of Binding, perhaps you could make some talens that could be of use in the near future."
"I know it," the metis replies. "But then, some poor Fury kid wants me to teach him a rite already anyway, so I'm good either way. Oh hell, you want a rundown? I've actually got one you might be interested in, as a half moon. Punishment sort of thing, but not as nasty as the Stone or anything. Makes you fucking rabidly hungry for a week, no matter what you eat."
"Oh?" Salem raises an eyebrow, Spocklike.
Mouse grins slightly. "Yeah. Use it on someone, and for seven days, nothing he eats is gonna satisfy him for more than an hour. Doesn't actually /hurt/ him, he won't fall over from starvation or anything like that, but he'll sure as hell thinks he's starving."
"Interesting," the halfmoon says slowly. He considers for a moment, then nods. "All right. Your chiminage is set to teaching three members of the Sept a rite or gift. Go ahead and hit the Fury first, then me. I don't think finding a third should be too difficult." He smiles, very slightly.
Again, she echoes that smile, though this time Mouse seems much more relaxed. "Sure thing, boss. And meantime, you know, anything you need otherwise. You want my number?"
"Oh, absolutely, and allow me to give you mine as well." The ritual exchanging of cellphone numbers -- a common, nay, vital part of urban Garou networking.
Once done, Mouse stuffs her phone back into her pocket. "Right. I had some questions," she glances toward Chris, "but nothing really pressing, just followup stuff on what I've heard. So if you need to head off, I can hang on to 'em."
Salem sits back in his chair again, getting comfortable. "Ask away."
Mouse nods. "Alright. Like I said, I got a lot of information about Kevin, and I went and saw him and all. And I know better than to trust the convicted guy at his word, especially a young Ragabash. /He/ says he saved the Caern, and the spirit was already going that way, he just waited until the last damned minute. Other guys say he /led/ the spirit there on purpose, with a general 'fuck the rangers' or something. Was wondering if you had any insight on that, other than the obvious--that he could really use a good lesson about spirits and why Weaver plus Wyld is a bad idea."
Salem's expression hardens a bit at this. "He led the spirit to the caern. He had some foolish idea that because it was a Weaver spirit, it was a friend to our tribe and thus should be helped. He did not howl to warn the Guardians or to get help. And after the fact, he tried to shift blame /onto/ the Guardians. Neither is this the first time he's shown a complete lack of sense."
Mouse snorts; there's humor in it, if dry and dark. "Yeah, that's basically what he told me, beyond the leading part. And he tried to push the blame on the guardians, yeah. Like I said, he claimed it was already going that way. Semantics. He was still retarded." She looks curious. "Well, I've already heard about the charach," she says, handling the word as though it were fragile glass, in a way that suggests she's heard about more than just Kevin's, "What else kind've things has he done?"
Salem's expression doesn't flicker. "Not just the charach, but then announcing it in the middle of a Moot while holding office during, and then trying to run away. Drawing insulting and perverted pictures on the farmhouse barn in some half-assed attempt at social commentary. As a cub, faking his own messy suicide in order to get a rise out of another cub." He exhales a breath sharply. "Not to mention taking the absolutely easiest road on his Rite of Passage. He was fortunate that the elder at the time was more charitable than I."
Mouse gives a low whistle. "That's quite a record. Alright, gonna make things hard to talk sense into his head. Next question. Those two cubs, Mick and Chris, told me about some incident involving a guy named Timothy, a ball of silver, and some cub that eventually left here because of the fallout from that and such. Didn't sound like you were in town at the time, but do you know anything about it?"
Salem glances over at Chris, then back at Mouse. "Nothing at all, unfortunately. Just that the cub went to train at the Sept her family came from."
Mouse nods once. "Alright. From the way they told it, it pissed me off, but again, not exactly objective witnesses. Lessee. /Oh/. Speaking of cubs. I know two of 'em are on their Rite already, but I'd like to get them shot, and show them silver--/in a slightly different manner/ than Timothy--as soon as possible, if that's kosher with you."
"Oh, absolutely," says Salem. "We have three cubs currently, the two on their Rite -- Sally and Chris -- and one more, Mick. All Ragabashes."
Mouse gives another quick, faint grin. "Great. I'll see about getting that done then. Met the boys, haven't met Sally yet. Heard about why Mick is squeaking like a hoarse chihuahua." She toys with her glasses. "I /think/ that's all I had for you. You wanna fling questions back?"
A few polite knocks sound on the door.
Dariya enters the house through the main front doors.
Dariya has arrived.
Salem's answer is, naturally, forestalled by the knock. "Excuse me," he says, and gets up to check the security monitor and then open the door. "Yes?" he says politely to the woman standing there.
Mouse nods and remains sitting, though she does turn her head curiously toward the door. Those dark glasses of hers are slid back on with a single smooth motion.
The dark-haired young woman draws a breath, as she looks up at the Walker's scarred face. Her expression betrays almost no reaction to the sight, but she seems to square herself a little, a deliberate straightening of her spine to meet the forbidding person before her. "My name is Dariya Nikolayevna Vishnevskaya," she says. "I am staying here. May I come in?"
Salem scrutinizes her for a moment before nodding and stepping aside to let her in. "I've heard of you. I apologize for not meeting you sooner. Kinfolk, yes?"
Mouse scrutinizes the new woman as best she's able behind the shades. She doesn't seem eager to stand up, however. "Oh. /Now/ I remember my other question. Smoking or non-smoking, this place?"
Dariya nods, stepping inside. Her posture is arrow-straight, graceful as a dancer's--but she ducks her head, so that the cropped fall of her hair swings forward to hide her cheeks.
Salem closes the door behind the new arrival. "Non-smoking within the house itself," he says, answering Mouse.
The Russian Kin studies Matilda for a moment, then turns to look back at Salem, somehow managing to convey poise and uncertainty at the same time with the same body language.
Mouse nods at Salem, and then shifts her attention back to Dariya with the slightest of head turns.
"Is there anything I can get for you, Ms. Vishnevskaya?" Salem asks the new arrival, politely. Not the slightest falter in the pronunciation of her name, either.
Kaz has arrived.
Dariya shakes her head minutely. "No," she says, "thank you." Another hint of diffidence shows in her expression, seeming uncomfortable there. "But may I please-- ask your name?"
After that second study, Mouse seems content to let the Shadow Lord kin and the former Shadow Lord make introductions. She pulls a box from her pocket--toothpicks, not cigarettes--and sticks one in her mouth.
Salem extends a hand to the kin. "Jack Salem, Philodox of the Glass Walkers. And this is Mouse." He indicates the woman in sunglasses over in the sitting area.
Mouse lifts a hand toward Dariya. "Glass Walkers too," she explains. "And metis, so let me know if you're not used to the freaky stuff yet."
Dariya sets a slender hand into his, and grips firmly, giving him a small nod--as if to thank him--and releasing his hand. The mention of the woman's nickname brings a flicker of bemusement; then when Mouse speaks, Dariya glances over to her. By the time she reaches the last sentence, the Russian woman is looking back to Salem as if for guidance, clearly not understanding the import of Matilda's words.
There's a buzz on the door.
"Are you new to the family?" Salem asks the kin on his way to yet again play doorman. His tone hints that he suspects the answer is 'yes'.
Mouse doesn't start breaking out any 'freaky stuff' yet, at least. She's just sitting there. "...Or if you don't know what that means, I can explain." She sounds relaxed and genial.
"Very," Dariya answers, a bit wryly. She glances to Mouse, and comes as far as the end of the half-wall.
Kaz ambles in. "Yoyo," she says, cheerfully. "Man, I needa key to this place or somethin'. Except, it's yours. So, I don't. But you must get tired of me ringin' the doorbell, is all I'm sayin'."
Salem gives the new arrival a faint, crooked smile as he closes the door behind her. "If you want a key, Kaz, simply ask. What's new? Oh, and have you met Dariya and Mouse?" He indicates the two (very different) women.
She /looks/ mostly normal. Apart from those scars, and Salem has scars; nastier looking scars, even. And apart from being a skinny beanpole, and wearing sunglasses inside and at night. Mouse glances toward the door, offers Kaz a way, and then looks back to Dariya. "Yeah, we've met. Twice already. Kaz, you're following me."
Dariya smiles--yes, actually smiles, although it's a small and subdued expression--at the sound of the Gnawer's voice. She turns and answers Salem's question implicitly, with the warmth in her voice. "Hello, Kaz."
Kaz says, "Oh. Um." A brief, figety pause. "Can I have a key, Salem?" There, that was easy. Or, possibly, not. "An' yeah," she adds, as she limps livingroomwards. "Mouse, I'm /stalkin'/ you, doncha know." Except, not. "An' Dariya's a good un'. If real damn new t'things. You doin' OK, there?" (This is directed to the Kin.)
"I'll get one to you in the next day or so," Salem tells Kaz, promptly enough. He gives Dariya another scrutinizing look, then retakes his place in the armchair.
Dariya leans against the wall by the stairs, watching the movements from a distance. "I am fine," she tells Kaz, before the woman has gone too far. "But I need to find a new place, so if you hear anything, tell me?"
Mouse chews on her toothpick, grinning. "I /knew/ you were." This to Kaz, obviously. Then to Dariya, "Would you like an explanation?"
Kaz nods a little, slowing to a stop so she can see Dariya, as well as Salem. "Yeah. Will do." And then she tilts her head at Mouse. "Explanation f'what?"
"Metis," Salem says simply.
Kaz blinks. "Oh, um. I never did tell you about th' Litany, did I?"
Straightening, Dariya crosses into the living room toward them. She halts after only a few steps, however, studying the three Garou. "You do not have to, right now. If there are... things you are, things you have to talk about." There isn't anything attention-grabbing or martyred about her manner, just a plain practicality.
Mouse shakes her head. "Nah, unless Salem had questions to fling at me. Which I doubt he can't do anyhow. 'Sides, this is pretty fast."
Kaz also shakes her head. "I just came over t'harass them folks. And get a Coke. So I'm all set, really. How much detail you want?"
"Besides," Salem says, "the more information you have, the better."
"Garou biology one-oh-one," Mouse says, reaching toward her sunglasses, but not doing anything with them yet. "There are three breeds of us. Homids, which are human-born, lupus which are wolf-born, and metis. That's Kaz and me. Metis are what happens when two Garou have a kid together."
Kaz limps into the living room, still Cokeless. She perches on the arm of the couch. "We're all of us sterile, us metis. And we have some kinda deformity, be it physical or mental. I got weird ears when I ain't in homid. You want, I can show them to you?"
Salem seems content to let Kaz and Mouse handle the explanations, though he does keep an eye on the kinfolk, gauging her reactions.
Dariya answers with a tiny shake of her head, glancing to Kaz a little distractedly. "You do not have to," she says quickly.
Kaz studies her quietly. "Yeah, OK." She doesn't offer again. "Anyway, so we have thirteen main laws, and the first one says we can't mate with each other. Partially because, hey, makin' more metis is a /bad idea/."
Mouse looks from Kaz, to Dariya. "Me, I've got some really weird shit too. My eyes, which're probably the easiest if you wanna see any of it, and then my back is way freaking long, and then I've got a tail." She waits for Kaz, then chimes in again. "Which it is, making metis, which is probably the one thing just about everyone one of us can agree on, 'cause metis are born in our werewolf form. Bet you can imagine what a problem that is."
Dariya swallows, but remains expressionless as she gives a small nod.
Kaz adds, "Most tribes that ain't mine or Mouse's kinda look down on us. 'Cause, well, shouldn't have been born, that kinda shit."
"All bullshit, of course," Salem says blandly.
Dariya glances to Salem, a bit sharply, looking to find out whether he's serious.
Mouse makes an agreeable noise in response to Kaz. "And even our two tribes, growing up inside /sucks/ ass." Her head turns toward Salem for a moment as he speaks, and then she looks back to Dariya, and jerks a thumb toward the philodox. "See, that sort've thing makes me really happy about where I landed up."
Cutter has arrived.
Kaz tells Dariya, "He's kinda a maverick." She levers herself off the couch and limps into the kitchen, adding, "But he's /our/ maverick. Dammit."
Salem seems perfectly serious. "We urban werewolves in general tend to be more pragmatic. I've personally met far too many worthy Garou who were Metis to disregard them." He gives Kaz a look, eyebrow rising, then smirks.
"I under-stand," Dariya says quietly. "Because fight is here, yes? Your... War, is in the city."
Dariya watches Salem, her eyes sober, her expression betraying very little.
"Everywhere," Mouse says, "But the city, that's the front lines." She plucks the toothpick out of her mouth. "You want to see the eyes? I'll keep the shades on if you don't feel ready for that."
Kaz gets a Coke out of the fridge, finally, and limps back to the living room. "Yah, pretty much. R'mind me t'give you a rundown on the rest've the laws, sometime-- It just seems like it'd give you a better understandin' of us, since you're hangin' with us some, and all."
There's a rap at the door, quiet but insistent.
Dariya glances over her shoulder to Mouse, her eyes narrowing a fraction. "It is not question of ready," she says quietly. "Just I would prefer not."
Dariya pages: *bordering* on confrontational. Not angry, but ... flat, emotionless.
Salem's phone bleeps. Just that, no-nonsense and no fancy ringtones. He excuses himself and heads out to take the call, though not before letting Cutter in.
"Understood," Mouse replies. "But I do take 'em off in here now and then so I can see, so feel free to throw a pillow at me if you come in while I'm reading or something."
Salem heads out to the foyer and out the front doors of the house.
Salem has left.
Kaz pops her Coke open. "So anyways. Why'd metis come up in th' first place?"
Cutter steps inside, a bit slow and stiff, and nods to Salem as he passes. He closes the door behind him and starts for the couch. He pulls up short as he notices the collection of people in the living room. Or maybe it's Kaz' comment. "Oh. Hey."
Dariya looks over toward the door, and a small smile lights her face, softens its edges. "Hello, Cutter."
Mouse puts the toothpick back into her mouth. "I mentioned I was one," she explains to Kaz, "And she didn't know what that meant."
Kaz shoots the Shadow Lord a grin. "Evenin'. How goes your stuff?" She glances at Mouse. "Oh, makes sense. I thought I said it when she was around, but I guess not."
Cutter grins, a little flushed. "Dasha. Good t'see you." He drops himself heavily onto the couch near her and smiles at Kaz. "Fuckin' tired. That farmhouse is a lot farther away when y'walking. Jesus *Christ*."
Mouse grunts at Kaz. "Yeah, don't think she much cared for being informed."
"I am right here," Dariya points out. She half-sits on the arm of the couch, next to Cutter.
Kaz swigs some Coke. "It's like... 10-15 miles, as the crow flies. So hey! That means you're gettin' loads more energetic and shit." Always look on the bright side of life. "Mouse don't think you cared much f'bein' informed," Kaz tells Dariya, solemnly. But with an amused spark in her eye.
Cutter grins up at Dariya. "But I don't believe her, speaking as one of y'teachers." He groans. "I shoulda grabbed somethin' *before* I sat down. I don't think I'm movin' again until tomorrow."
There's a small tightening around the corners of Mouse's mouth, just slightly upward.
Dariya tilts her head to look at the Shadow Lord. "What do you want? I will get it, for you."
Kaz mutters, "Scuse me while I go visit the little girls' room," and disappears that direction.
Cutter beams at Dariya. "Serious? Anything--something cold. I desperately need a drink."
Mouse drums her fingers on the armrest. "Yeah, think I'll head upstairs for at least a bit." She starts to stand, moving stiffly.
Dariya pauses uncertainly, having just rises to her feet. "It is pleasure to meet you, Mouse," she says, with a moment of something genuine in her smile.
Cutter touches the brim of his hat. "Good t'see you again. Even briefly."
Mouse pauses, hesitates, and then returns the smile, nodding once to Cutter. "I might be back if I don't end up falling asleep, but no promises. Enjoy y'selves."
"Good night," Dariya offers, seriously.
Cutter simply sinks into the couch at this point, pushing his shoes off with his feet.
"Night," Mouse replies, sounding amiable enough. She trudges up the stairs.
Dariya heads for the kitchen, and a short time later returns with two glasses: one water, and one some kind of red juice.
