"We *do* have friends, you know. Who are just regular people."

[renferret]

Ghost discusses tribal history with Rina and Collins, disagrees with Briari about superheroes - a lot - and has a brief encounter with Nick and Val before leaving them to chat on their own about dangerous ideas.


Maxwell Tower: Lobby(#2471RAJL)

The ground floor of Maxwell Tower serves as a small shopping center of sorts, with a Starbucks set on one side of the main entrance doors and a Barnes and Noble on the other. At the opposite end of the lobby is a restaurant that specializes in sushi and various noodle dishes, and Claire's Old Fashioned Pizzaria, a local favorite. Also to be found are an Apple store, a used books store, and a small shipping center that works mostly with UPS and FedEx. Many of these businesses have exterior entrances, but security in the lobby itself is tight, keeping out the less savory neighborhood elements via cameras, alarm systems, and two armed, round the clock security personnel with Maxwell employee badges and their own desk near the center of the lobby itself. Wedged between the pizzaria and the sushi restaurant are stairs leading down to the building's underground parking garage, a heavy door marked stairwell access, and two elevators. A third elevator is situated near the used books store, but this one has a key card swiper and is clearly marked 'Private'.

Contents:
Collins

Obvious exits:
Outside Parking Garage Private Elevator


While the closing shift isn't for a while, Collins is still on the Lobby floor at 8:30, consulting with security. While he is, ostensibly, the boss - the conversation seems to mostly be the uniformed security explaining things to him, and him nodding along and absorbing it all. He asks questions in the breaks; quick ones that have quick answers. When he speaks, he gestures with his hands a lot, when they speak... less so. The foot traffic is at it's quietest, barring the place actually being closed.

Ghost seems to be trying for round two, and it seems unlikely that the time of day is a coincidence. She slides in through the main doors. A furtive glance over the lobby follows, along with pursed lips. Same shabby clothing as yesterday, in about the same configuration.

The revolving doors don't give much in the way of a report or visual disturbance when used, but the lobby is quiet enough that the entrant earns the attention of the guard least engaged with Collins. An indicating gesture is made, a question is posed to Collins, and he looks up, gaze following the indication... right to Ghost. He nods, once, to the guard and leaves it at that. At least for now he does.

The stranger's eyes move from the guard to Collins. Again, when their eyes meet, she's the first to look away, and she turns to move down toward the Apple store. Not, as it turns out, to go inside, but merely to browse through the window.

Collins makes no attempt to hide the attention he pays, but when Ghost looks aside like that, he tones it down to just occasionally glancing. He says something quietly to the guard who'd spotted her and said guard picks up the phone receiver. It doesn't start raining storm troopers. Aside from keeping tabs on her, Collins continues to receive whatever briefing he's getting, albeit at a slower pace now.

Rina is sauntering, really, an easy stroll that slows for a moment when she sees Ghost. A little smile comes to her lips. Then she spots Collin on duty, and the smile widens. She's indecisive for a moment.

Ghost doesn't seem to notice Rina, but that's likely because her back is turned in order to focus on what she can see through the store window. There's a line of tension in her knitted shoulders, however, and the fingers of her right hand tap slowly at one leg in no discernible pattern. It's not the demeanor of someone casually shopping, that's for sure.

Rina's entrance pulls Collins' attention, now that he's at a higher state of alertness, and he gives her a return of that smile and a wave that consists of only two fingers - the remainder holding fast to the binder in his hands as he takes notes. He also doesn't hide his tabs-keeping on Ghost from Rina, either.

Rina heads for Ghost, then, casual. "I can't really buy you a new laptop," she says quietly.

Ghost turns sharply at the sound of footsteps behind her. She blinks owlishly at Rina before slowly, ever so slightly, relaxing. "I...oh. That's not why I'm here." A glance toward the window. "I was just looking."

The intersection of Rina and Ghost gives Collins pause enough that he says something to the two guards and the phone call being placed by the one ends right then and there. He doesn't intervene, leaving Rina to do whatever Rina's doing, but he is diverting yet more of his attention in that direction, now.

Rina flashes the girl a smile. "iPod, maybe?" she suggests. Then she tips her head and asks, "You, ah, given that big question any thought?"

Ghost gives the window another glance at the mention of an iPod. "Uh, which one?"

Collins has a lot of notes to take, by the way. And a lot of things to be told by that guard.

"The one about joining the Mouseketeers, hon," Rina answers gently. "And seriously. You want somethin'? I'm flush. I could get you one of those little iPods."

"It's okay." Ghost steps away from the window, as if to emphasize her words. "Mr. Salem told me this was where, uh, where your group stays now. Well, uh, upstairs, anyway."

"Y' talkin' to Jack," Rina says. "That's good. You here lookin' for someone?"

Ghost shakes her head. "Just looking. And a little, yeah. I uh, saw him this morning, he was meeting some new girl. We didn't talk though." She looks toward Collins now, ever so briefly.

"Have you met Mouse, at all?" Rina asks, pretending to window shop as well.

Ghost wrinkles her nose. "Just Mr. Salem. The new girl, sort of. Riley once." There's a sour twist to her mouth as she says that name; not an enjoyable encounter, apparently. "And Mr. Dalton, of course."

Rina nods. "You should meet Mouse, sometime," she murmurs. "And are you... considering it, I hope?"

"I don't know," Ghost admits. "What if I didn't? What if I just stuck around and helped a little? Is there a time limit on how long I'm allowed to stay?"

Tipping her head slightly, Rina considers. "Up to Mouse, I think. So we should meet her soon as you can. Funny thing," she adds. "I know someone who can pass word to her, probably."

Ghost's response to this is a small, noncommittal shrug, but she does finally look back toward Collins. "Is he one of yours? I think I'm weirding them out."

"Friend of Mouse," Rina says noncommittally.

"So," Ghost says, "Yes, then."

Rina cocks an eyebrow at her, eloquently. "We *do* have friends, you know. Who are just regular people."

"You should probably tell him I'm not going to eat him, then," Ghost says. After a beat, she adds, "or steal anything."

Rina's smile tugs upward at one corner. "Mmhm. Let's go say hello?"

Ghost turns from the window entirely and moves toward the security desk. Her pace is anything but brisk, but she's going in that direction at least.

Collins, who at this point has been faking getting briefed, sees the motion and nods once more to the guard he's conversing with. "Thanks, Mike." He closes the binder and sets it on the counter where Mike retrieves and stows it. Collins lifts himself off the counter but makes no attempt to move any further from Security than the few steps that would allow a quiet conversation to remain private from the two guards.

"Hey, Julian," Rina offers as they approach. "How's tricks?"

Ghost says nothing. She keeps pace with Rina though, and she's clearly scrutinizing Collins (and in turn, the guards) as they get close enough for quiet conversation.

Collins shrugs easilly, in response to Rina's question. "Eh, no complaints. Keep meeting new folks every day. I think I'm about sorted on how to actually do this job, now. The proof is in the pudding, though. We'll see how much crap I manage to forget next week when I try to keep it all straight on my own." Ghost gets an acknowledging nod, a polite specimen that says 'hello' without offering anything verbal, for whatever reason.

That self-deprecating bit brings a grin to Rina's face, brilliant. "Yeah, I'm sure you'll be great," she says, for all the world as if agreeing. "Julian, this is Ghost. She needs t'meet Mouse sometime soon. Got some questions about ... some business things."

"I don't really...need to," Ghost hedges. Her attention pulls from the guards back to the two kinfolk nearby.

Collins nods, to Rina, but addresses Ghost directly, when he speaks. "Well, /wanting/ to is good enough, for my purposes. Maxwell - the guy who owns this place - has me taking her calls, so to speak. So if you wanted a meet, I can let her know on your behalf." He follows her gaze to the security guards, then back. "If you'd like to chat elsewhere, we can use my office or pretty much anywhere else." He pulls a plastic card on a retractible tether out of his pocket. "I've got keys."

Rina looks over to Ghost, questioning. "You okay with a chat?"

Ghost considers the question for a moment, before she says, "Yeah." And then, "sure."

"My office?" The fellow checks-in with Rina, left foot already starting to shuffle in the direction of the Employees Only door.

Rina gives an affable nod, and follows.

Ghost nods as well, and when Rina moves, she moves with.

Collins leads them through the Employees Only door, up the stairs to the second floor, and out through another door, keycarding as necessary, and holding the door politely for both of them. His office turns out to be a simple affair, windows facing the hall, and a view of the parking lot below - which he ignores as his seat faces the hallway and door. He gestures around at the new-looking seats. "Make yourselves at home," He says, holding his office door as well - though it has no spring that would close it. He closes the door behind the pair, softly, before heading around to his customary seat behind the desk.

"You don't speak Italian, do you?" Rina asks as they sit down.

Ghost's tension ratchets up slowly as they go. The signs are subtle, but there, and not helped when Collins closes the door. She does, however, take a seat, with hands curled together in her lap. "Spanish," she replies.

Rina gives Collins a look of mild inquiry.

"Not a word," Collins admits, with a helpless shrug. "Just English and bad English. Law School taught me enough latin to fake it at cocktail parties... after everyone else is thoroughly sloshed anyway. But nothing useful." He levels the next bit at Ghost, gently, "This is my office, you're as safe here as you'd be anywhere in the building, 'cept maybe the penthouse. But if it gets stuffy or a problem? Let me know, eh? My job is to make people comfortable, make sure they have what they need. You're a friend of Rina's, that means I include you in that."

"That's not as comforting as you think," Ghost murmurs, seemingly to her own hands, since she doesn't look up from them. "But uh. Thanks."

"Well, shit," Rina says quietly. "See, I don't know that anyone's managed to verify her."

Collins tilts his head, at Ghost's words. He doesn't say anything else on the matter, until Rina's said her piece. He addresses her, next. "Verify as in... pedigree? Or as in... security... what level of ball dropping are we talking here?"

Ghost exhales slowly. "I told you, there's no one /to/ verify."

Frowning a little, Rina sits back in her chair, lounging. "That being the problem. She's ...ah. Do you remember the Cyber Dogs, at all? Or would that be before your time?"

"I remember Mom flipping her shit a time or two, and the term coming up," Collins says, shrugging. "Never really got a word out of her what all the hubbub was. I was in High School at the time and she didn't want me messing around in Sept business until I was older." He shrugs. "But I'm listening."

Ghost's expression closes off a little more, if that were possible. She glances sidelong toward Rina.

Rina looks over to Ghost, eyes narrowing. "I'd actually kind of like to hear it from your point of view."

"Like I said," Collins says, shrugging. "Mom wouldn't get me involved. I'd overhear her fuming at some guy... Lindell or something? Anyway, some mess about experimentation and this Lindell guy being 'too impatient' and now she had a mess over some murder in the Sept to clean up."

Ghost's expression darkens at mention of a murder. She schools herself visibly after a moment. "We were a tribal camp, like the Corporate Wolves or the Wise Guys. A new one, back in the late nineties. Cybernetic, uh, cybernetic experimentation and augmentation. The camp's leader--" A pause. "--On New Years there was a big Glass Walker broadcast, tribe wide. It was revealed the camp leader and some others had been experimenting on lupus. Involuntarily. Ten of them. They'd all died or gone insane from it. So the Glass Walkers purged the camp."

Collins lets out his breath, long and slow, into the air near the ceiling. "That'd do it," he says, nodding, as pieces come together. "Mom's Philodox, was Athro at the time - I figure - so guess who gets to oversee things like purges, and... now that you mention it, people who jump the gun maybe?" He shrugs. "Okay, so. How's that all connect back to us, here?"

"My family," Ghost starts, then noticeably hesitates. "...My pack, had to run, or die. And then we had to keep running. They're dead now, so Rina can't contact anyone to make sure I'm not some, uh, some kind of plant or mole. I'm a Cyber Dog, not that it really means anything any more. And uh, and she wants me to join the full Glass Walker tribe."

Ghost adds, "And the Garou Nation, I guess."

"Someone could read her," Rina suggests. "She's met Jack..."

Collins absorbs that with all the grace one might expect of a trained attorney who can tell which way the wind is blowing. He nods once, and his mouth works, rolling the thought around for chewing. "It's been over a decade..." he says, tilting his head. "You'dve been about my age, if I'm uncharitable here. But, if you'll pardon my saying so: you already /are/ a member of the tribe, and the Nation. Unless you, personally, have been exiled. I imagine, if what you say is true, though, that we wouldn't be having this conversation if that'd happened. Obviously," he says, holding up a couple of hands, "I'm missing something." He nods, to Rina, but it doesn't stop his legalistic mind from running down all the potential forks.

"Yeah," Ghost agrees. "You are. I'm not, uh. I wasn't your age. I was about a year old, maybe, when the Purge happened. I rited under Cockroach. I've been...we did our own things, where we could." She looks up from her hands. "But I'm not your kind of Glass Walker, not really. I've never been in the Nation. You ran us out."

Rina wrinkles her nose. "You're no Philodox," she mutters.

Collins loses his composure when Ghost mentions the age at the time. "Wow. You grew up in a hurry, I guess. I would've figured you for twenty-something." He shakes it off and leans forward a touch. "So... you just told me who's left to verify you." He looks to Rina a moment, then back. "You Rited under Cockroach? Mind you, I'm just kin. Basically nobody. But Cockroach holds some - what we call in this business - 'sway'. You don't think if a Theurge called him up, he'd vouch for you? Or you still worried that folks are looking to finish what they started?"

Rina wrinkles her nose and mutters something in Italian, bopping her forehead with the heel of one hand. The look she gives Collins is grateful, despite the tone of her voice.

"Mostly the last thing," Ghost says. "But uh, not as much as when I got here, I guess. No one's tried. Mr. Salem's been decent. Rina and Mr. Dalton too." She hesitates before admitting, somewhat grudgingly, "Usually I get run off. Or there's some jobs for favors or money, but they don't want me sticking around then either." After a moment, she adds, "I'm metis. We uh, we grow up fast. It's a rule."

"Ooof," Collins says, sympathy rather than judgement as the m-word drops. "That'll do it, too. Here's the thing. The purge, from what little I remember of it back then, wasn't a unanimous thing. It was reactionary, heat-of-of-the-moment stuff - which, incidentally, Mom /hates/. And lo, there's been controversy over it, I gather. From what you describe, to me, yeah you've got a rough ride full of people second-guessing you all the way, but if Cockroach'll vouch for you? Anybody that wants to take a shot at you now has to go through the Elders, or at least the Master of the Challenge. So there's safety there. Mouse, for what it's worth? Is pretty chill and laid back, from what I gather. If you'd like, I can float your case for you, see how she takes it. But it's your call. Like I said: I'm just kin."

"I never think of that mojo shit," Rina murmurs ruefully, looking over to him. "I used t'be smart, I swear. Then I got old. Or maybe got stabbed one too many times." The Chicago drawl is quite evident in all those a's.

Ghost sits up a little more. "See," she starts. "See, I got told about all of that. And the problem is...my problem is...I mean, you've been okay to me. Good even. Even if I believed it was a bunch of Garou being stupid shitheads without thinking, that doesn't change what happened, does it? And it doesn't mean someone won't come along and just try to off me anyway. And it doesn't bring any of my family back." She inhales carefully. "There wasn't exactly any invitation to come back, was there?" A beat. "And why the hell would I want to join the Nation, when I know that's the /best/ I can expect from them? Being only slightly shit on, maybe."

"Well for one thing," Collins says, shrugging, "There's a war on. But if you grew up outside the Nation, I get that it doesn't necessarily feel like your war. I mean, it /is/, but perception's a thing I get.

"So how about: because alone, all you've got to look forward to is being very shit on, and having to keep running, and keep being run out of town. I can't tell you how to live your life. I got no right. But no amount of running will bring back your family, either - and you can't judge the whole Nation based on the actions of even the majority. You're here, in my office. So some part of you at least wants to explore the possibility. All I'm doing is helping you see what's there, in front of you."

Rina just winces, slightly, suddenly looking every year of her vaguely-over-thirty-ness. She takes a deep breath, straightening and even leaning forward, forearms resting on knees, all her focus on the young woman. "I see you," Rina says quietly, "and I think you could be part of us. And I *want* us to be your family. Maybe we can't fix it. But if the Glasswalkers are the ones that took that away from you..." She ducks her head, and the rough-edged voice goes softer. "I don't want you left out there, in the cold. Alone. 'S'just not how it oughta be. You deserve a family."

"Monsters out there don't really care who's Nation and who isn't," Ghost points out. "It's not like we were just running from Glass Walkers. It's uh, it's like they can smell it, sometimes. When you're vulnerable." She looks away, first to her hands, then to the wall to her left. "It's different. That sounds stupid, huh? But it's different, being shit on for not being Nation, and being shit on because of something I've got no control over. Not being Nation is a kind of choice. I could have tried. I mean, uh, I don't think it would've happened before now, but I could have. Everything about Metis in the Nation is bullshit." She looks, finally, toward Rina, but only briefly.

Collins doesn't say anything else now. There's nothing the privileged son of a respected Philodox can say to the experience of a Metis Cyberdog, and he's savvy enough to know it. He just nods, sympathetically, and holds his peace.

"We're not half as bad as the rest of 'em," Rina mutters. "I mean, shit, *Mouse* is one. She understands that shit." Restless, she pushes out of her chair and paces the width of the office.

"Anyway," Ghost says, eventually, almost sluggishly. "None of that means I'm not willing to help out. I can fight. I've been fighting since they fixed me. I can do what Nation Ragabash can do. Scout. Spy. Get into places I'm not supposed to be. I'm a good shot. I know Caerns are important, and you've got one somewhere out there, and the assholes in town want to take it."

"It's hard to trust an outsider, these days," Collins says, conversationally, rather than directly at Ghost. "I have the luxury of inviting you to my office to chat because I'm not important. I could be replaced tomorrow by some other Rutgers graduate and you wouldn't know the difference. Trusting someone to fight alongside you, though? That's... higher risk. Even if you just wanted to pitch in, as an outsider, you'd need to make arrangements, earn trust, meet the people who would want you to help out..." he leaves following that to it's conclusion as an exercise for the listener.

Rina turns to look at Ghost, pain etching lines at the corners of her eyes. "If you're gonna fight, why hold back? If it's because you're gonna lose people, if you have a family you can *lose* them..." She shakes her head swiftly, turning the black gaze to the floor. "Doesn't fuckin' work. Been there. Done that. Got the t-shirt."

Ghost grunts. "Yeah, I know. And chances are good I'd uh, I'd get kicked out anyway." She looks toward Rina, and her reply is a little flatter than her tone has been. "My family's dead."

Rina meets the girl's gaze, something oddly fierce in her own. "Your family is who you *choose*," she says. "You don't have to be alone. And it's not good for you. For us."

"You've heard what I can offer you," Collins says, perhaps in response to that flat tone of Ghosts, perhaps to forstall Rina from saying anything else. "Now that I know who you are, you can expect to not be hassled here. If you need me, I'm here. If I'm not here, the folks at the Security desk know how to reach me wherever I am. What happens next is your call."

"I chose them," Ghost says, still flat, but stubborn now as well. "I would have chosen them." Her fingers curl against her jeans, and after a moment she gives a small but distinct nod in Collins' direction. "...Okay."

Face set in a less revealing mask, Rina paces to the window and--doesn't really look out, though she faces the glass. She's silent.

"I got somewhere to be," Rina says quietly, voice scratchier than usual. She rubs at the back of her neck, and adds, briefly, "Thanks, Jul." Without a moment's pause, she's headed for the door.

----


Harbor Park -- The Meadow(#194RJ)

One of the last bastions of green left in the city, mottled and withered grass and weeds covers the earth like a badly stained carpet, with the construction work turning what is left into just bare dirt. The vegetation seems marginally healthier the further it is from the river and much healthier towards the central area of the park around the fountain. Construction work is ongoing here: a raised earthen berm about five feet tall is being built all around the park perimeter, with two breaks each at the Bridge Street entrance and the First Street end. Wooden posts are being erected at regular intervals all along the earthen wall, while tasteful iron gates and fences are being added at the entrances. Overpowering the scent of living vegetation are the exhaust fumes from a busy street to the west and an unpleasant stench from the Columbia River to the east. From the street view or river view, the park is now isolated, as if it existed apart from the city. People in tall buildings have an excellent view of any goings-ons for now, though. In the center of the park, a small glade of six tall trees and a flower bed surrounds the fountain.

The murky waters of the Columbia River flow swiftly along the east side of the park. Bracketing the park to the west is First Street and the city of St. Claire.

Obvious exits:
Elson Street Bridge Street Fountain First Street River


Briari has arrived.

Cloudy and mild has been the rule today, conditions that do very little to chase anyone away from Harbor Park. Only now that things are starting to get dark do the park regulars start to clear out, at least those that have warm homes and families to return to, or night shifts to attend. Ghost, on the other hand, is perched on the lip of the fountain, idly trailing her fingers through the water and occasionally flicking droplets over the surface itself. Same clothes as yesterday, which are the same clothes she wore the day and night before as well.

Heading through the park is Briari, wearing her headphones over her ears. Looking amused as she spies Ghost on the fountain. Aiming towards her, she calls out, "Hey you!" Her hand lifts, fingers wiggling as she flops down next to her with a grin. "Looks like you got a secret too."

Ghost's head lifts at the call, and she pulls her fingers out of the water as Briari joins her, turning enough that she can see the other woman. "Yeah?" She dries her fingers off on her jacket. "It's not a secret if someone else knows it."

"Well, true, if you want to be all realistic about it." Briari says with another grin, leaning back to plant her hands behind her. "So, you're fuzzy also, huh? That's pretty cool. Jack didn't give me much though. What family?"

Ghost's expression visibly twists into a grimace. "Keep it down, okay?" She checks over her shoulder, as if to make sure there are no potential eavesdroppers in range. "I'm freelance as far as it matters to anyone."

"We're fine, ease up. If we had peepers I'd talk to you in Mandarian." Briari says with a grin on her face. "Though I doubt you speak that. I don't either but I could at least fake it real good with an app. So what does freelance mean?"

Ghost eyes Briari for a moment, with one eyebrow arching a little higher than the other. "It means my family's dead and I'm unaffiliated," she says after a moment. "I'm not part of your big organization."

"Oh. That's a bummer. So, since you don't got anything else going on, you want to fight crime with me tonight?" Briari asks with a lift of her brow as well. "I'll let you ride in my Ferrari."

This time, it's a little more of a stare. "How do you know I don't have anything going on?" Ghost asks.

"Because you're sitting here at a fountain dipping your fingers in it. That is a universal sign of boredom. I even drew up a costume design for you and I can get it made in about two days and overnight shipped here. It is sweet. Decided to go with a Moon Knight style, all white, because he wanted the bad guy to see him coming. More scary that way. No cape though, but, you do get a sweet bullet proof trench coat." Briari says as she slips her phone out and shows her a picture that doodled up.

Ghost opens her mouth. Closes it. "...I said I didn't want to be your sidekick." She glances at the picture with a fair amount of scrutiny, all the same. "I definitely don't want to be seen. Why would, uh, why would he want the bad guy to see him coming?"

"Because he is not scared of anything or anyone. Also, when someone goes out of their way to make sure you know they're going to kick your ass and throw moon shaped blades into your chest, then you know that is one scary motherfucker." Briari taps a few screens to pull up some pictures of Moon Knight. "He also suffered from multiple personalities, one of which was an Egyptian God who he believed gave him the power of reincarnation so he didn't give a shit one way or the other. Did a quick stint on the Avengers, washed out because of his nutjob attitude, then went solo again." She gives Ghost another grin. "So, c'mon, don't tell me you haven't just wanted to put your foot up someone's ass when you see them beating on a girl or robbing a bank or slinging dope to some kid that should be studying? There are just some neighborhoods the cops don't go to and those people in need deserve a hero to keep them safe."

Ghost looks down at the additional pictures, and then sighs as she reaches up to slowly push the phone away. "Real life doesn't work like comic books," she says seriously. "Especially not in those neighborhoods. You know that prostitute you uh, you saved, you realize even if her pimp cut her loose, she has to survive somehow, right? You know she's going to be right back out there tonight."

"Maybe. Or maybe I found her this morning and gave her a number to a woman's shelter and then made a few calls to make sure that she had a job offer at the local Denny's as a waitress." Briari says as she hooks her lips upwards. "Being a hero doesn't just end with the cape. Some people you can help by giving them a nudge and a second chance. If they throw that way, then what can you do, right? At least I sleep easy knowing that I tried." She pauses, glances around, then looks back to her. "We're werewolves." She smirks. "Real life doesn't apply to us anymore. We -are- comic books."

Ghost snorts. Skepticism is written all over her face. "I live in those neighborhoods, you know. Ever since I've been able to be around people at all, I've lived in those kinds of places. And if we're comic books, we're not the kind with spandex, capes, and happy endings. You just..." Her tone turns exasperated, "You can't just fix something as complicated as someone else's life by swooping in, making some guy piss himself, and then maybe pulling a job out of thin air."

"And you can't fix someone's life by continuing to watch them throw their future away either and turning a blind eye to it. If you grew up in those neighborhoods, then you know what they go through, and if you have the power to make change, and you do not act on it, then that's fucked up." Briari says with a loud sigh as she rises off the fountain and pushes off as she trudges through the park.

Ghost narrows her eyes. "Hey," she says a little more sharply. "You don't /know/ what I do. Just uh, just because I'm not wearing a costume? All I'm saying is you aren't fixing as much as you think, not that someone shouldn't do anything at any time."

"Oh yeah? Convince me. What are -you- doing then?" Bri challenges over her shoulder as she starts pulling the Beats headphones up to her head.

A scoff. "I don't have to convince you of anything." Ghost's shoulders hunch. "I do what I can, when I can. I don't keep a list." She pushes off from the fountain, but it seems to just be the intention of standing up, because she doesn't go any farther from her original spot. "How do you think I got into shit with that guy I warned you about? I was trying to help the stupid jackass."

Placing the headphones on her head, but not over her head, Briari says, "The world is full of stupid jackasses. You just gotta brush off your shoulder and move forward. I spent my entire life sitting in a cube, pounding code and data for big dogs who couldn't care less about me. That is why I started doing what I did. I wanted to feel alive. I wanted to feel like I was really making a difference. No one ever saw me as anything more than the perfect throat showing omega and no matter how hard I worked, I'd always be a level one analyst with a rich daddy. I may not make a world of difference, but, at least I'm trying. What's the point of being who I am with all this power and money if all I am going to do is sit in a cube?" She slips the headphones over her ears and continues off down the sidewalk.

Ghost falls to staring again, though the expression on her face is increasingly unpleasant. "What the /hell/ are you even talking about?" she asks, finally.

"I need more clarification than that. I have been saying a lot of things." Briari says with a grin. "You hungry?"

Ghost doesn't return the grin, unfortunately. "No," she says, "You've mostly just been saying variations of stuff all related to you. Why are, uh, why are we talking about you now? I thought it was about helping people."

"Because I have deep seeded psychological trauma of my mother dying young and my father being a multi-billionaire or something and never had time for me and all I did was read comic books. So, yes. I decided to become a super hero to help other people, because, I like helping other people. I know it's not a cool kick ass backstory like Spider Man, though if I got bit by a radioactive wolf I am sure that I wouldn't survive it." Briari babbles on as she throws her arms up in the air. "Either way, with or without the mask, I'm still going to help people. I was just wanting to know if you wanted in on it because you're probably the closest I have to a friend here seeing how we've had somewhat meaningful conversations of varying substances."

Ghost again visibly stops herself from saying something. Instead, she slowly raises a hand to her face and presses two fingers briefly into the wrinkle between her eyebrows. "Okay," she says slowly. "Look. I'm uh, I'll put it this way. I'm sure all that's really sad and you didn't have a great time, but as the closest thing to a friend which is still really, really far from an actual friend I'm going to point out that what you just said is /so full of shit/." She drops her hand and makes a vague gesture at her surroundings. "Have you looked around? I mean, uh, have you /seen/ the desperate in this city? The people you want to help out? They don't drive Ferraris or have traumas relating to not getting enough attention from dads with enough money to let their whole neighborhood eat for a lifetime without ever feeling the pinch. How the hell, how, how can you hope to really help them if you're so far from their everyday reality that you can't even see it with a telescope? That's what I'm saying. I'm saying get some damn perspective."

"Oh, really? That is your big grand analogy? That a rich girl can't very well begin to help other people begin she has money and a Ferarri? Seriously? So, Bill Gates donates roughly billions of dollars a year to varying charities and he has never once in his life been poor. He helps people his own way. Maybe, as a rich girl, I don't want to throw my fucking wallet at a problem and think that I'm doing something good. Maybe I want to get deep in the shit and give these people hope. Be a symbol. Be inspirational. If I can work on getting the drug pushers and the pimps off the street, then at least it's something. The woman I helped three days ago who was dragged into the alley and beat. I am sure she is pretty stoked that I happened to be there to stop them. I don't have to be one of them to want to /help/ them. You are so glass half empty it's ridiculous." Briari fires back at her with a growl rising up in her throat.

Briari: .. because* she has money.

Out near the street, a man wearing Western attire is seen handing out sandwiches from a large lunch tote to the homeless pushing shopping carts filled with their most treasured possessions. With the moon growing, the homeless seem a little on edge until they notice that the man appears to be harmless. Aaron stops for a moment to have a short conversation with a retired vet before continuing his path through the Meadow.

Ghost snaps, "Well your fucking wallet would certainly /help/." Her nostrils flare, and while she wasn't shouting, she does lower her voice again. "Bill Gates donates to fucking charities. It's the job of the damn charities, or at least the ones that aren't scams, to put that money to use, because /they know where it's needed/. They need money more than some rich white girl swooping in thinking she can solve their problems by just punching some designated pricks and then talking about how much of a hero she is. The drugs, the gangs, the prostitutes...where do you think, uh, where do you think all that comes from? Some people just decided to be jackholes one day and some other people just don't know it's bad for them? So you saved a girl. Great. Yeah, I'm sure she's happy. And I'm sure saving someone else sometime will be great too." She inhales sharply. "But these are /people/, not some nameless cartoons in a magazine just waiting around for you. If you can't understand what's going on before and after your interventions, you're going to end up hurting more than helping, and saying things like uh, like how you can just make all the prostitutes and drug trafficking go away makes it really really obvious you don't understand it at all."

"And if I was poor and homeless and putting on a costume and doing the exact same thing, would you be sticking to your diatribe? I doubt it. At least I didn't /bail/ on my family so that I can be a free agent and sit by fountains telling people that their dreams don't mean shit." Briari says as she gives her shoulders a swing. "I've been doing this for years and I've made a difference to the people back home. I /have/. Just because you're a pessimist doesn't mean I have to be either, or share your sad, pathetic outlook on life." Reaching up, she knuckles at her eye, sucking in a sharp breath. Turning, she storms away from her, heading in Aaron's direction as she slams the headphones back over her ears and cranks the volume up to a loud roar.

Ghost's teeth flash. She stalks forward and reaches out to try to yank Briari around by the shoulder. For someone her size and certainly her build, she's shockingly strong.

Aaron tips up his cowboy hat as he hears two heated voices exchanging words near the Fountain. Rubbing his thumb across his forehead, he is a little surprise that it is Briari that is making her way towards him. He raises his hand, even if he is not sure if the Glass Walker will notice him. Blinking, he is surprised by the way that Ghost reaches out to grab at the other woman. "Good Lord," he silently mutters.

Aaron gets rid of one of those "that is"

There is a loud whirl, followed by a click-clack as Briari is spun around and the two gold bracers race up her arms. Her eyes flicker with rage behind them as she hisses. "Don't touch me."

Ghost's own eyes, always dark, are particularly so right now in the fading gloom. She doesn't spare the bracers a glance; her eyes are on Briari's face. "I. Never." she hisses tightly through gritted teeth, "Bailed on my family. That's what /your/ family did to mine."

Aaron drops what he is carrying and approaches the two women. "That is enough," he whispers angrily, "the both of you." He attempts to pull them both apart. "You should get out of here, Bri." he tells the familiar woman with a stern tone to his toneless voice. By the look in his eyes he means business.

"I can assure you, my family wouldn't give a -fuck- about you." Briari rumbles right back to her as the bracers make another loud clicking noise. When Aaron interjects, she lets out a hiss and turns, storming off from them. "Yeah, like -I'm- the bad guy here." She grunts out as the gold weapons convert back down to the simple bracelets that dangle about her wrists.

Ghost pulls away from Aaron. The look she gives him is leery at best. "Yeah," she says toward Briari's back. "That's pretty much my point."

"I didn't say that you were but..." Aaron jerks his head at the numerous people around the park that are now staring towards the commotion. "I think it would be best for you to walk it off and not lose your head." He turns his gaze towards the Ghost and gives her a judging gaze.

Continuing to storm off, Briari doesn't look back as she heads off into the night.

Ghost gives Aaron a partial shrug before stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets. "What?"

"Not that it is any of my business but what happened?" he whispers curiously as he walks back and picks up his bag now quarter-full of sandwiches. He lets Briari go, knowing that he will see her around to ask her side of the story later.

"You're right," Ghost says, with a sour twist to her mouth, "it's none of your business." She turns back, takes a step, and returns to perching on the edge of the fountain. "...She didn't, uh, like my suggestions about how to better help poor people."

Aaron digs into his bag and takes out a sandwich. "Want one?" he asks gesturing to the sandwich in a whisper. "What suggestion was that?" he asks curiously.

Ghost studies the sandwich for a moment. Ultimately, she shakes her head. "Try to better understand poor people? Geh. Doesn't matter." Her scrutiny returns to Aaron himself. "You've met her, I guess?"

Aaron unwraps the sandwich for himself and takes a bite. He shrugs and says, "Sort of." around a mouthful of bread, meat, and cheese. "She probably means well?"

Ghost's eyes roll briefly skyward. "Lots of people fuck other people over by meaning well."

Aaron licks crumbs from his lips. "Okay... she thinks she means well," he replies. "Cannot really know it unless you lived it, right?" He finishes off the last bite and wipes the rest of the crumbs off on his flannel long-sleeve shirt. "Like... I have never had my own place."

Ghost shrugs again. "Yeah. Neither have I."

Aaron manages a simple grin before he shifts his shoulders to lift the strap a little higher. "See you around," the Gnawer says as he continues on his way to give out more sandwiches to the homeless around the park and out in the city.

Ghost merely waves after the man. She watches him for a while before turning her attention back to the water.

----


Harbor Park -- Fountain

Situated in the center of a large, open meadow is a clustering of six trees, a flower bed, a few steel-and-wood benches set firmly into concrete, and a flagstone courtyard that is dominated by a large fountain.

The fountain is a wide circular pool of water some fifty feet across and about five feet deep in most places. The sculpture in the center is a mix of old and new, traditional and modern: eight concrete-and-stainless-steel slabs about six feet high are set in a rough Stonehenge-like circle around the center of the fountain. Water flows from their tops, cascading in bright mesmerizing sheets to the pool below. Rising above the steel circle is a large marble statue of the Water Bearer, an androgynous figure draped in robes of flowing water. It bears a large jug carved with various Greek symbols, from which pours a seething torrent of water into the pool at its feet.

Cars on the nearby street have an excellent view of the park as do any residents of the tall buildings which line the waterfront.

The murky waters of the Columbia River flow swiftly along the east side of the park. Bracketing the park to the west is First Street and the city of St. Claire. Recent construction work is creating an earthen berm several feet high all along the borders of the park in all directions.

Obvious exits:
Harbor Park Meadow

Nicodemus enters the glade in the middle of the open meadow.

Nicodemus has arrived.

Nicodemus pulls up in his Suburban 4x4, parks it, gets out, and heads into Harbor Park. Destination: Fountain.

Ghost is already there, perched on the edge of the fountain and seemingly scanning her fellow parkgoers, albeit in a rather idle looking fashion. She's bundled up in both shirt layers and her jacket today.

Nicodemus doesn't seem surprised to have spotted Ghost loitering about in the park. "Afternoon," he offers as he draws nearer, eyeing at first the nearby bench, but then opting to settle about 10 feet away on the rim of the fountain. Seems as if he's quite aware of the moon's phase and his immediate proximity to a nearby garou.

"Oh, hey," Ghost says, as she breaks off from her people gazing. For the full moon, she sounds a little subdued; or a little distracted. "Haven't seen you for a little while. Uh, been busy?"

"With this and that," Nick agrees without yielding any specifics. "You? Keeping tabs on the park still, I see. Anything untowardly happen to it in the past few weeks?"

Ghost shakes her head in response. "No. Val, uh, Val gave me a sketch of someone who'd been spray painting some of that graffiti. The spiral stuff? Haven't seen her though. Haven't seen anyone try here either."

"It's interesting that none of the spiral graffiti has ever appeared in the park. It's like they know to stay out. Or...." Nick trails off, thinking a moment, and then apparently losing wherever he was going with it. "Or something."

Val has arrived.

"It just looks like a park," Ghost says, then continues, "run down and everything. On the other side though, you can tell. Putting that stuff here might not be so easy, or maybe easy, but it wouldn't work right. Or, uh, or they know whose territory it likely is, and they don't want to provoke a fight yet."

"It is rather beautiful on the other side. Secure-feeling with all that moonlight and those friendly spirits around, too," Nick adds. "I suspect they realize putting up a spiral glyph would attract attention to whoever did it and it wouldn't last terribly long once up either. Of course, if they got some schmuck to do it for them, they could just keep a lookout for whoever went and erased it, tail that person, and then get a lead to who's garou and where there might be more of the local garou."

Ghost doesn't look entirely happy about that possibility, as one might expect. "Yeah," she says. "If that happens, we should have the one they're tailing lead them into an ambush."

"You volunteering?" Nick asks with a crooked grin.

Ghost's grimace intensifies. "I'd /really/ have to know there was an actual ambush waiting."

Val enters the park from Bridge Street and in all likelyhood, can be spotted from a distance, what with her hair and all.

"We can burn that bridge when we get to it," Nick says, likely intentionally mangling the saying. He spots Val in the distance. "Looks like we ought to be getting some company soon."

Ghost's eyes flick in Val's direction as well. "I've done that sort of thing before," she tells Nick. "But I knew my family had my back."

Val draws closer and while she is still a reasonable distance away, she lifts a hand in greeting.

Nicodemus mimicks the raised-hand gesture from over by the fountain. "Local tribe won't hang you out to twist in the wind. You're too much of an asset for being able to keep an eye on the park so much when others can't."

Ghost snorts in dark amusement. "Bitchy Rich was getting on my case the other day for just sitting around here. Like she doesn't waste plenty of time just that I know of." Her attention shifts to Val, though there's no gesture of greeting from her.

"Hello you two," Val says with an easy smile. "Who's bitchy Rich?" She enquires, as she pulls a chocolate bar out of her jacket pocket. "Either of you want one? I hit up the dollar store and have a few."

"Bitchy Rich is a new one for me, too." Nick declines the offer of chocolate by raising a hand in a "no" gesture. "Life is too short for cheap chocolate."

Ghost shrugs, but her nose noticeably wrinkles again. "She's, uh. New Glass Walker, I guess. You'll know her when you meet her, she can't stop talking about how much money she has." To the offer of chocolate, she also shakes her head.

"Only new Walker I've run into is Briari," Val says, as she unwraps her Oh Henry bar. "She seemed rather energetic. Never said a word about money, although money is part of her deed name. Not around me, anyway."

"That's her," Ghost says flatly.

Nicodemus ahs as the additional explanation is offered. "Haven't met her. I should probably check my emails."

(OOC: Alas, I had to idle here.)

"She struck me as overly bouncy," Val says with a bit of a smirk, as Ghost moves off to speak with a homeless man that just entered the park. "She knew a Trick I hadn't encountered before. Got her to do a little showing off. Certainly seemed interesting. Will have to give it a go at some point."

Nicodemus tips his head slightly to one side. "A new trick? What was it?"

"Means of tapping into information lines, or cell phones," Val explains. "So, if I see someone on their phone, I can listen in to their text messages, or their conversation."

Nicodemus ahs, seemingly not shocked by this bit of news. "Well that's handy for them to know how to do." A beat. "Kind of unsurprising too, if you consider the tribe."

Val grins. "No not surprising at all and something I figure you could manage, but I can see it being useful now and again."

Nicodemus checks to ensure Ghost is still off and aways. Confirming that she is, he turns back to Val. "Man, I have a serious urge to be mischievous tonight. And no idea where it's coming from." He frowns, frustrated, as if this might be a bad thing. "Oh, I did check in on Benedict. Dropped in on a dream of his to be all shadowy and anonymous and still talk with him. Yeah, he Awakened. Barely. He's already told Alicia, so.... Oops. Advised him to keep it quite before someone separates his head from his body."

Val smirks. "Well, I'm certain that I can help with that. Nothing wrong with a good prank, or twelve. As for Benedict," Val adds, as she huffs out a breath and runs a hand through her hair. "That is a real risk. While the folks here are a hell of a lot more liberal than lotsa places, all it takes is one hardliner having a bad day. Makes me glad I brought him to your attention, after he started acting all loco on me."

Nicodemus seems to be of mixed opinions about pranks judging by the expression he makes. "I shouldn't. I should be responsible. And I might have inadvertently used up my prank quote on having tested out my ring on LOLcat, who flipped his shit out when he turned into a cougar and wrecked the downstairs." He adds, "And thanks for letting me know about Benedict before he announced it to the sept. It sounds like Alicia just wanted him to shut up about it. Like she was embarrased. Or afraid for him."

"Probably more the later, than the former," Val says, then grins and lightly pokes the Mage in the arm. "Oh so responsible," she teases. "I /am/ interested in that ring. As you know, cats are not my favorite people, but I'd be lying if I didn't say I was just a wee bit curious. And, I will help with cleanup, if you want any help."

"It's personal stuff and needs to be arranged just so as it's kind of my work area and I'm fussy about where things go and how they're placed and organized. Damn cat knocked over an entire bookcase." Nick then eases off. "Granted, it was sort of my own fault. I should have waited until he was asleep and kept him asleep. And I'd forgotten that the transformation hurts like a motherfuck." He then offers to you, "Maybe next week or so?"

Val's eyebrows goes ups. "Hurts? That's not something that I would have guessed at and sure." A pause. "Probably annoyed you that one time I moved all your stuff out, then back in again. Sorry. Did try and put things back where I found'em."

"It was a little annoying, but your intentions were good, and that counts for a lot with me. Besides," Nick says. "If it'd turned out that the shit really had hit the fan, you'd have done me a giant favor. And I, for one, thought that the shit had hit the fan on that one."

"Sure as hell sounded like it, from what I was able to gather," Val says, shoving her hands into her pockets in search of a second chocolate bar. "That one book you had there, the real old one in the glass case looked real interesting and delicate. Was terrified of looking at it wrong, incase I damaged it by mistake. Oh. Just remembered. Silvertip was talking about you having some of that Ooze stuff and wanting to make an attempt to communicate with it. I can probably do that, or at the very least, take a stab at it. Helped Alicia pick up a very interesting Trick recently and it /might/ work with the stuff."

"Oh, that one. Copernicus's 'De revolutionibus orbium coelestium.' I stole that from a library's special collection back in my younger days," Nick mentions in passing. "One of the 276 known copies of the first edition printed in 1543. It's one of my prize books. Horribly dense to read, though. Middle English and early-stage calculus and theoretical physics all blended together." He then advises, "I don't think attempting a mind-meld with the ooze is a good idea. For one, it doesn't actually have a mind or anything resembling sentience. I think it's more of a receiver. Or a conduit. Silvertip... has some recklessly stupid ideas sometimes. This is one of them."

Val cocks her head to one side. "Isn't so much of a mind meld, as the ability to communicate with just about anything. /Anything/. Written, or verbal. If it is a conduit, talking with it might be possible. But, I haven't really been able to poke at the stuff all that closely, myself. Oh. Speaking of poking, I did check in on the Hilliard estates. Couldn't find anything out of the ordinary."

Nicodemus replies with just one question. "And you think that there aren't words, ideas, or concepts that can render you mad once you've heard them?"

Val wrinkles up her nose. "The shit is that nasty, is it? And yea, I'm uncomfortably aware of that sort of thing. S'why I'm real eager to learn how to keep nasty shit outta my head. I've had enough creepy-assed nightmares for the rest of my existence, thankyou very much."

"My suspicion is that the ooze is not a singular entity. It just /looks/ like a bunch of separate and distinct puddles and globs from our dimension, but it's actually just protrusions into this realm from somewhere else, and they're all connected. The sample I've got might look small, but you might be plugging yourself into everything in Hanford--and more--all at once." Nick summarizes his opinion on this. "If you try what you're thinking, you're a monumental idiot. And there's no way in hell I'm letting you use the ooze I've got for something like that. If you're hellbent on ending yourself, get your own ooze from Hanford."

Val blinks. "Woah Nick, dial it down. I said that I hadn't had the chance to really poke at the shit myself, which means that I am sure as fuck going to listen to what you have to say about it. Alright? If you say it's that nasty, it's that nasty and I'll take your word for it. I have no desire to have my brains scrambled, kay?"

Nicodemus still looks irritated. "That is twice now that...." He cuts off what he was about to say, pauses a few seconds, and then resumes. "Silvertip may be an athro, but she's wreckless with her life and with others. This is /bad/ advice you were given by her. I think, perhaps," he says, having cooled off a little bit evidently, "she's getting frustrated at feeling so ineffectual against this particular enemy. The feeling is mutual, but Jesus Christ."

Val looks somewhat annoyed, as she pulls out a chocolate bar and starts to unwrap it. "Lets just forget about it, alright?"

"Yeah," Nick agrees, though it's clearly still bothering him. "I'm going to go take a run. See you around, Val. Stay out of trouble," he says as he starts running and vaults over the park bench.