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renferretLong distance to (Nicodemus, Riley): Mouse ooorah.
From afar, to (Mouse, Nicodemus): Riley denounces Mouse.
Long distance to (Riley, Nicodemus): Mouse denounces Riley! warning the world that she is not to be trusted.
To (Mouse, Nicodemus), Riley pages: You will pay for this in time.
You paged (Riley, Nicodemus) with 'I am convinced I have done what's best for my people.'.
From afar, to (Riley, Mouse): Nicodemus eyes all the bodies. Rolls a large rug over the top of them. Tries to stomp down the obvious lumps. Little success is had.
Mouse, Salem, and Nick have a discussion on the roof, and later Mouse takes Nick to see the other side of Harbor Park.
Tenement Building - Roof(#1899RJ)
A low stone lip surrounds the edge of the building's flat roof, about three feet high. Though the stone is stained and filthy, scattered with pigeon droppings and the occasional bit of litter, it does provide an excellent view of the surrounding neighborhood.
Perhaps unexpectedly, there's a small garden that stretches along one side of the building, shielded from the street by height and the rooftop's stone lip. In stark contrast to the neighborhood itself, it appears well-tended.
A narrow structure near the center has a door which leads back down into the building's stairwell.
Contents:
Salem
Nicodemus
Obvious exits:
Stairwell
Nicodemus lifts his eyebrows halfway through Salem's response. "No. Fucking. Way. Seriously?" He asks in disbelief, which then gives way to laughter. When he recovers, he chuckles, "That might explain why she never mentioned me to the sept as the person who gave her a lost, corrupted fetish to dispose of."
Salem flashes another lean, toothy grin and fishes about in his pockets for, yes, another cigarette. "The Sept has a long history of good relations with warpers. Bad, too. It'll come full circle if you seriously start dating one of us, though."
Nicodemus: I think Salem just asked Nick out.
Salem is taken, unfortunately for you. And Lara Grey doesn't share. :>
Nicodemus snaps. Too slow.
The telltale sounds of glabro Mouse hauling herself up the rooftop steps become audible. They stop briefly; perhaps she's catching her breath.
"Full circle bad? Or full circle good?" Nick inquires. The 'uh oh' is perhaps silent. His gaze shifts towards the door as noises come from that direction.
Salem deadpans, "Depends on the relationship." He gets up and limps over to open the rooftop door for Mouse. "Join the party."
"Yay," Nick deadpans back to Salem. He then stands and heads over to join Mouse, reducing her need to travel about the roof if she intended to join them. "We didn't bring any cake," he says to her, indicating it's not a particularly good party.
Mouse gives Salem a faintly sheepish, all-ugly grimace, and shifts down just as soon as she crosses over the threshold. "Came up for some air," she says, rather breathlessly. "How're things?" The Walker elder almost immediately ends up leaning against the nearest convenient flat surface, although she takes obvious pains to make it look natural, rather than necessary.
Salem limps back over to his perch on the wall and lights up another cigarette. "Nick and I were talking about his upcoming appointment with Jacinta."
Nicodemus brings Mouse up to speed on current events. "Val dropped me a line. Said she'd had a talk with Jacinta about stuff, my name came up, Jacinta grilled her, and she tossed Salem's name into the mix. Said Jacinta was all pissy and...." He hrms to himself, interrupting where he was going with that line of thought. "Salem seems to think it's less Jacinta being pissed at me and more Jacinta being pissed at Val, and that might be coloring how Val communicated things to me about Jacinta."
Mouse shakes her head every so slightly, and rubs at the bridge of her nose. "That's likely," she agrees. "Jacinta hasn't liked or trusted Val for a long time, and as I told you, trust is important to her. I...don't suppose it's worth asking why the hell Val decided to go talk to her in the first place?"
Salem just shakes his head a little and focusses mainly on pulling nicotine into his system.
Nicodemus raises a hand in a 'who knows' gesture. "I could guess, but I'd just be speculating. Although I'm sure part of it was likely an attempt to assure Jacinta I was helpful and friendly and not a threat."
Mouse actually makes a faintly audible groan at that. "Probably. Hell. Okay, yeah. It's /probably/ more likely Jacinta's angry at Val. She already has trust issues with the woman, and by talking about you she pretty much just added on 'keeping secrets' on top of that. Which is irony for you--she gave Jacinta another reason not to trust that she's giving complete information while in the process of giving away /too much/ information."
"Her heart's in the right place," says the old halfmoon with a sigh. "Her brain's... ahh, fuck. She means well."
"She gets frustrated at me a lot for not sharing information with her, but there's a reason I don't. Several very good reasons, actually." Nick nods at Salem. "She does mean well. But Corax clearly have difficulty keeping information secret. Or at least Val does. For the most part." He finishes tacking on qualifiers. "Generally." There. Done.
Mouse taps the side of her head. "Corax," she confirms. "They were made to find out and spread information, from what I understand, not hide it. It's got to be like the worst kind of itch." Her hand lowers, and her focus shifts briefly more to Nick than the two of them, though Salem still seems to be included. "It'll be okay."
"I still maintain that Jacinta's one of the most /rational/ goddamn Garou I've ever known," Salem says. "Woman's like a goddamn rock." He shifts his weight, looking a tetch more irritable all of a sudden, then shakes his head and heads up from his perch. "I'd better head downstairs."
Nicodemus says, "I had a little bit of a freak-out after Val told me about her meeting going poorly and Jacinta being scary as fuck and grilling her to tell her /everything/ about /everything/ and then thinking that I was going to get the same treatment. Salem kind of talked me down from the mutually assured destruction scenario I'd been crafting in my head the past two days." The philodox gets a nod of thanks in acknowledgement. Then back to Mouse "And, in talking about how this all kind of blew up as you and I were poking around with the option of my revealing myself to Jacinta and Elliot, we pieced together that one of the former sept Alphas who knew about me--Andrea Moon-Laughs-Quiet, a Child of Gaia who I'd covertly brought a corrupted fetish to for disposal--might have never told the sept about me because her own mother was apparently a warper. She probably knew the dangers inherent to making that kind of knowledge into general knowledge. So maybe that'll help assuade Jacinta's fears and get her to cut you and Salem both some slack. I mean, hell, if a former sept Alpha let it slide and all...."
"I don't know," Mouse says, admitting a little bit of uncertainty. "Sometimes Jacinta's about as readable as a stone too." Salem gets a firm, silently grateful nod, but she makes no attempt to stop him--it is, after all, the full moon. "And she's Wendigo. The word of a Child of Gaia might carry more weight than, say, a Shadow Lord, or even a Glass Walker she doesn't know, but I'm not convinced she'd consider that proof she should ease back. She takes the protection of the Caern damn seriously; it's why she's such a good Warder. That said, she's not a fanatic, like a few others I could name."
Salem waves a hand vaguely as he heads downstairs and back into full moon seclusion.
"Like the fanatical one that was sneaking into the city and killing families earlier that Riley had to deal with, pissing off the Red Talons in the process?" Nick conjectures. He offers a nod towards Salem as he disappears, but it's doubtful the moon-pulled philodox spots. Focusing on you, he holds up his thumb. "One: Tell Jacinta the Glass Walkers took me in as kin and I consider them to be family." Index finger. "Two: Tell Jacinta I've been using magic to benefit the Walker tribe in various capacities." Middle finger. "Three: When the Glass Walkers' needs dovetailed in with the sept's needs, I've indirectly been aiding the sept. See, for example, rendering those BSDs' silver bullets non-functional before the garou cleaned them out, rendering good luck unto you in performing the caern's re-awakening rite, and assisting in gathering information about the visions the garou were having about the caern and wasps." Ring finger. "Four: I was in the process of working with you to reveal myself to Jacinta and Elliot so as to help the sept out and re-establish a relationship that died out some time ago when the prior mages all moved on--or were killed." Pinkie finger. "Five: Things didn't go as I'd planned. Still interested in a partnership. Or do I just confine my aid to the Glass Walkers and completely ignore the other garou? Because that can go either way." He waits to see what Mouse thinks.
Mouse looks thoughtful. "Hmn. I'd say go in with that list, but don't present it to her like a list. Just talk to her. Answer as honestly as you can. And if you're not opposed, I'd like to try to Sense Wyrm on you out in the woods shortly before the meeting, just to make sure you haven't picked anything up, because if anything could tank this meeting about as fast as an offer of blankets--/something a dumbass Garou once actually tried/, I'll point out--it's any kind of taint."
"I'd check myself right now, but I'm going to assume that reliably detecting Wyrm on oneself is about a feasable as reliably self-diagnosing oneself with insanity." Nick nods. "Sure. I'd need you as an escort into the woods, though. After your initial warning to stay out, I've only been back to get some essentials out of my cabin and haven't been back since." He glances irritably at the moon and gripes, "Not having a reasonably safe place to practice makes it hard to pop over into the umbra and experiment with bending reality." He then catches something he almost overlooked. "Someone. Brought. Blankets? Fucking moron."
"I shit you not," Mouse confirms. "Thankfully he's become a little wiser since then, but Jesus Christ." She pauses, then gives Nick a slightly sidelong look. "Weeell," she says slowly. "It /is/ the full moon. We could always look for someplace new. You haven't seen the Glade yet, or the other side of the Tenement. And there's always the bit of land we own."
"I've already gotten a taste of how well the garou mind tresspassing laws and private property cross-realms. I think the Walker property would be a bad idea. Hell, that's why I bought acreage further north of the caern--so I'd be further away. But close to a road and shelter. Tent camping? Not as fun as they make it look on television." He clears his throat before admitting, "I've already looked at the other side of the tenement. Didn't cross over. Just looked. Just in case I needed to use it as an emergency exit." That leaves.... "Think we could do the glade? Would you be able to do that Sense Wyrm thing there?"
Mouse says, with a completely straight face, "That's because you didn't piss on your borders, you realize." She can't quite keep the hint of a grin from cracking around the edges of her mouth after that, however. "We can definitely do it there, yeah. Hell, I can do it here, but I want to be extra sure, and while our building is clean the neighborhood isn't exactly Gaia's finest."
Nicodemus mumbles, "Location, location, location. And my place is--was--100 acres. My bladder is not that big. If I'm not allowed back out there, I'll probably loan its use out to the Walkers so long as I've got a place here." He looks over the city towards where the park is. "If we run into someone.... What's your take on Jacinta with her revealing me to the sept at large? Think that's going to happen? Because if so, better to tell the Glass Walkers up front rather than letting them find out from their friends at school where they might not get all their facts straight."
Mouse shakes her head. "I don't know. I don't /think/ so. As for your cabin, honestly, it's not Sept territory and it's not near the Bawn. I don't think anyone's going to stop you from going out there, I just wanted to make sure you didn't have visitors dropping in expecting to find some new kind of fomor."
Umbra: Harbor Park
The Umbral ground beneath your feet here is lush with vegetation, an oasis of life amidst the concrete and webbing of the scab. Trees stand proud and tall here, their branches full of leaves. Shrubs line the outer edges of the park, tangled with encroaching webs. The fountain stands out boldly from even the surrounding area, the sleek lines sharper and more pronounced. Clean pure water roars and cascades from the figure in the fountain's center, falling into a cold clear pool that looks quite inviting. Spreading out from the fountain, the rest of the park is a green veldt that seems to radiate life and strength. The river banks the east shore of the park, bridged by a massive rusty bridge. On this shore, the glade seems to have spread out on to it, vines winding around the supports. Further across the river, the bridge melds into the scab again, flaked with rust and covered in webs. The river itself is clean within a few feet of the shore, but black ooze seems to encroach menacingly from the murk of the rest of the river.
A walkway leads out of the Glade-like atmosphere of the park from just north of the fountain. Eastward, the dark span of the bridge stretches over the vile river. Dark streets lead west and southwest into the blighted Umbra of the city.
The Umbral Glade is lit at all times as if it is the full moon.
Contents:
Luna's Face
Obvious exits:
South North Southwest West Bridge
Nicodemus crosses over with the aid of the theurges gift. He acts less like a person in awe of getting into the umbra and more like a partially seasoned garou happening upon a glade. "Oh, nice. Niiiiice," he says, drawing out the word appreciatively as he looks around. The fountain and the fetish get the most attention. "You can really feel the spiritual resonance a lot stronger from this side." It's also like he's seen it before, and possible watched it as well. "Stick close and don't take candy from strange spirits?" he inquires of you.
Mouse looks pleased all the same, as if she were showing off a new car. "Yeah, let's start with that," she says, as she looks around, then points to a cockroach spirit roughly the size of a small dog that's trundling toward them. "She's okay though. She's with us."
"Is there a limit to how often you can use that gift to carry people back and forth? Just one person at a time, or does it get harder when you try to do more than one person?" Questions, questions. Nick seems okay with the roach spirit headed their way, possibly because he's seen them before and/or possibly because you've informed him that this one, in particular, is 'okay.' "Hey there," he says to the roach spirit." He doesn't recoil from it, but he doesn't attempt to pet it or anything along those lines either.
"It costs me some energy," Mouse explains, as she carefully, experimentally rolls one shoulder upward and grimaces. "But in theory, I can bring more than one person with me. We're attached though. You can't get too far away from me, or vice versa." She moves her fingers near a glittering strand of...something, that's more sensed than seen. "And if shit goes bad, I can expend some effort and send you straight back to where we entered. Initially I wanted to learn it in case the Tenement was attacked, and we needed to get kin or new cubs out." The large cockroach spirit responds with a--curious? It's hard to ascribe emotions to an insect--waving of its antennae, and it stops just out of reach of both of them, occasionally making a dry, rustling click. "This is Kakkerlak," Mouse explains. "She used to be my pack totem."
:nods to you regarding using the gift as an escape route. "That's actually a really good idea. Good to have a backup plan just in case, and then hope it's never needed. I can likely get myself out, probably, but I can't take anyone else with me." He looks to where your hand goes, near the strand linking him to you. "Ah, I see. Kind of like the silver cord that supposedly links a person's physical body to their mind or soul if they're astrally projecting." He reaches his own hand down, as if touching this invisible cord. His fingers gently hold it as he shifts his stance a little to get a closer look at the spirit. "Hey, Kakkerlak. You have a very unusual name."
Once more, the only response Nick gets is waving antennae and clicking. It's not clear whether the spirit can understand him; probably not. She's certainly a fine representative of the species, with a dark shiny carapace and general healthy look (as much as can be determined for a cockroach). "Probably a lot like," Mouse agrees, without bothering to hide her own curiosity. "In any case, no one's ever accused me of not being paranoid enough. Compromised safehouses are pretty inevitable." Her attention likewise shifts a little more to the spirit. "Few years back, when the pack she was totem of went completely to shit, a fox and coyote spirit thought it'd be hilarious to try and make us appreciate the spirits more by kidnapping totem spirits. I didn't really have a pack around any more to help me look for her, and then the pack connection with her dissolved. So I, ah." She clears her throat. "Did something immensely unwise, really."
"A little paranoia, for people like us is definitely not a bad thing. Especially for you, as you're leading others, responsible for them, and they look to you for guidance, safety, and answers. Particularly when the shit hits the fan." Nick looks as if he might say more, then shifts to the other topic. "Took it out on Fox and Coyote and pissed both of them off?" he hazards as a possibility, dividing his attention between the Walker elder and Kakkerlak.
Mouse actually laughs. "No, but I think KL tried to go that route. No, I went looking for her on my own. It's a long story that involved talking to a newspaper and a lamppost, beating up some sort of Wyrmy shadow spirit--/me/, but I had help--and then finding her in some Wyrm tainted post office of all places. That's how I got trapped in the Umbra for about a week. It's not an experience I recommend."
Nicodemus looks slightly taken aback by this claim. "I thought it was really, really, really bad to get caught up in the umbra during the day? How'd you manage to survive for an entire week?" Oddly enough, talking to a paper and a lampost and then beating up a shadow-self doesn't seem to phase the mage one bit. "I've got a theory on how I might be able to pass myself off as a Weaver or Wyrm or Wyld spirit, but I've not had a chance to test it out--and I doubt you'd want me to bring some of the stuff I'd need to this glade."
"Good question," Mouse says, with a decided grimace. "The post office was filled with Wyrm tainted Weaver spirits. I got Kakkerlak out, but got quite literally webbed in the process. That..." she says very slowly, "is doubly not recommended. She had to find Salem and Kavi to get me out." One eyebrow lifts. "I've heard of talens or fetishes that can do that. Given what's usually needed to make those, yeah, I wouldn't bring any materials here."
Nicodemus hmmms. "You," he says, pointing briefly in your direction with a gloved index finger, "were incredibly lucky that Kakkerlak had an investment in you, be it pack-related or tribal affiliation. That situation could have gone horribly wrong in very short order. Glad you eventually got rescued, though." He nods, likely confirming your suspicion about materials that might be required to pull off what he'd suggested earlier. "Pretending to be an aligned spirit would not be something I'd care to do for more than ten or twenty minutes, much less an entire week, but it might be a useful trick to pull out of my hat should I ever find myself in a bad situation where there were no other viable options." He looks beyond the glade's borders, out into the city's umbra and its blending of Wyld, Wyrm, and Weaver in a constant tug-of-war for power." Maybe give Weaver a try. But /after/ meeting with Jacinta: I don't want to meet with her while I smell suspect. Speaking of, is this a good place and time to check me out?"
"Just don't get webbed," Mouse warns. "You can't exactly move to do anything when that happens. You're right, I'm lucky I wasn't just completely calcified. Honestly, I'm not entirely sure why..." but that line of thinking is clearly not one she enjoys, and so the subject change comes with obvious welcome. "Yeah, this should work." She turns her full attention on the mage now. To the casual, non-magical observer, it doesn't look like she does anything. To Nick, it should be pretty obvious when she activates her gift.
Nicodemus stands still for it, as if having his picture taken, and blinks twice once the gift is activated--the only indication he knows its been used. There's no indication of Wyrm emminating from him.
Mouse eases once the gift ends, and gives Nick the closest thing to a shrug she can manage while standing. "You're clean. Wyrm-wise, anyway. If you start becoming obsessive over patterns, I'll have to ask Salem to look at you. --That," she says, a little slower again, "happened to another Glass Walker who got trapped in a Weaver web. Though she didn't have the indignity of being stuffed into a damn parcel cart. Anyway, ah. Well. I saved her, she saved me. Friendship kind've grew from that. Like I said, the pack bond had dissolved."
"I'm not skilled enough to manipulate patterns to my will. Not yet, anyway. And not for the foreseeable future. I'll probably need to locate something--preferably a portable object--that reeks of Weaver if I'm going tomake a go at outfoxing Weaver spirits. I had a run-in with a Weaver spirit trying to web me before I came back to St. Clair," Nick claims. "It was in the spirit world, following me around, so I hadn't noticed it influencing my actions for some time. I hiked out to the woods where there was no one around, then I channeled energy, reached across and gave it a wicked jolt of electricity. That did the trick and ran it away." Nick observes, glancing at the roach spirit not too far away, "Kakkerlak still seems to like you. Or at least favor you."
"Friends," Mouse explains, as if this were an entirely natural thing, friendship with a spirit bug. "Hell, I probably talk to her more than anyone. And I meant," and here she barely hides her amusement, "actual patterns. Numbers, shapes, general obsession with order. The Glass Walker I mentioned, it came across almost as OCD." Seriousness returns. "Definitely sounds like it was trying to taint you, or worse."
Nicodemus mmms and nods in agreement. "It wasn't after me specifically. I don't think it realized what I was. It was after pretty much the entire office." He theorizes, "After all, the banking industry is all about patterns of predictability and order. It's only natural that it'd attract Weaver spirits--and, by proxy, create an enviroment where it's easier to extend that spiritual tain across the gauntlet." His attention drifts back to the cockroach spirit. "I'm not sure if you'd heard or noticed, but Val befriended a stormcrow spirit about a year ago. Is developing friendship with spirits something that comes easily to the garou and the other fera?"
Mouse nods in agreement, then follows Nick's gaze to Kakkerlak. "I suppose the answer to that is yes, and no. Yes, if you've got the spiritual knowhow, the opportunity, and the ability to communicate in some way; not necessarily verbally. Jacinta is pretty friendly with a wind spirit, herself, and she mentioned once that Silvertip knew a bear quite well. As a Theurge, you kind've get to know spirits in the area as a rule, unless you're doing your job poorly. But there are an awful lot of Garou that really don't pay enough attention to spiritual matters, and are complete fucking morons when it comes to dealing with them. That's a shame. As for the Fera? I...really don't know enough about them to say. It's probably similar, though that Bastet, the tiger? He mentioned something about how Bastet need special ways to get into the umbra, and that's why this fetish was such a big deal. Still, he had some insane...I'd never seen a spirit like the one he was friendly with. Think Puss in Boots, Shrek-style, only nuttier."
"He." Nick identifies which Tiger is being talked about based on gender. "Karuvar. Met him one time. He seemed okay. Intelligent. Doubt he had a clue about me, though. And that spirit? Yeah, that does sound kind of insane. Although," he hypothesizes, "I imagine there's as many kinds of spirits out there as people can dream up." Nick looks towards the fountain, takes a step towards it, and then stops immediately to check with you. "It's okay to get closer or....?"
Mouse actually grins at that. "There are precisely that many," she agrees. "And he set me on fire. I'm not forgetting that one." She nods at Nick, however. "Yeah, it's okay. As long as you don't do anything threatening, they should be fine with you. And I'm on hand in case of misunderstandings."
Nicodemus nods, turns, and begins walking slowly and non-threateningly towards the heart of the glade. "I'm not really thrilled with him having set you on fire, either. I'm just glad you pulled through it and relations were finally smoothed over." He pauses to allow a pair of butterfly spirits to flit past, then resumes his course. "I haven't heard anything about him or Baukhain in quite a while. I think it was about half a year ago that Urick and Bauk bought that house together?" He admits, "I've not even been over to see it yet. Just sent them a housewarming gift. I guess they largely keep to themselves and value their privacy, which I can certainly understand." He comes to a halt near the edge of the fountain, eyeing the structure and the flow of the fluids. He peels his gloves off as he does so, exposing his quite-normal-looking hands.
Mouse makes a noise that's somewhat pained, and it doesn't seem entirely connected to her turning to follow after Nick at that slow, dragging shuffle of hers. "Yes, well, the thing with that is, Urick has a goddamned duty that he's ignoring to play sexy times with Miss Kitty. He keeps on it much longer and I'm going to have to twist his ear back the right way." Nick's hands get an interested look.
Nicodemus pockets his black leather gloves and flexes his fingers, all the while having a mildly embarrassed look on his face. "I kind of suspected that that was what the two of them were up to. Far be it from me to begrude someone of the happiness they've found though. Especially you guys, where happiness seems to be far more fleeting than usual." Switching to a potentially less controversial topic, he asks, "It's okay to touch the waters, right?"
"It's okay unless they say it's not," Mouse replies, ever so helpfully. Something seems to have shifted in her demeanor though, and she seems a little...quieter? Her expression is more thoughtful, in any case. "Plenty of Garou manage to balance the two in some way, otherwise we'd never reproduce at all. But personal happiness is never an excuse to ignore--" pause. "I mean, if it was, how many of us would say fuck it to the whole dying young and violently thing? I certainly would."
Nicodemus crouches slightly, slowly spreads his hands apart from one another, and--watching the milling spirits closely--eases his left hand into the brisk water. When nothing happens, he adds his right hand into the liquid. Nothing happens still, so he looks at his submerged hands through the water itself. "Urick looks like he's been through a silver meat grinder. Twice. Seems like he ought to get some slack for that? At least for a while until he.... I wouldn't be surprised if he's trying to relocate his center. Maybe instead of taking a forceful approach to bringing him back into things, giving him a few smaller things to do might help get the ball rolling, and he could then haul himself up by his own boostraps, so to speak." Nick cups his hands together, capturing some of the water, and lifting it gingerly out of the pool by about six inches. It trickles through his fingers and runs down the backs of his arms, returning to the pool on its own terms.
Mouse sighs. "You're right, if that's actually the case. Not that Garou tend to work that way. Honestly, I haven't seen enough of him to be able to even tell."
Nicodemus watches as the water filters back to where it came from, save for some still clinging to his skin and hairs. "He left here, went to the Amazon, found a pack with an add-on Tiger, fought the good fight for a while, then the entire pack was wiped out and he was left maimed, crippled, and the lone survivor. He then returned back here." The mage dips his hands into the water again, cupping them to extract more liquid. "He's very likely got lingering issues. That's not the kind of thing you brush off easily--if ever--even if you can turn into a werewolf and thought the idea of a bumper sticker that read "Gaia's Chosen" would be funny were it not a potential Veil breach." Nick suggests, "Maybe he needs to talk with one of the Children? Maybe Topsy would do it?"
Mouse makes that faintly pained noise again. "Nick, that's...not really something Garou tend to talk about. I guess the Children of Gaia might, but really only if it's--we're not exactly progressive. Emotional problems? /Really/ not progressive. Even having a kinfolk psychologist around is fucking rare." She's not really looking at the mage--or the fountain--anymore. Of all things, her gaze has gone back to Kakkerlak. "--Anyway, believe me. You don't have to tell me about how you don't get over losing a pack."
Nicodemus cups his hands a third time, bringing it closer to scrutinize the water temporarily trapped within, then bends his head down to take a small sip--something that'd be less than adviseable in the physical realm. He, the fountain, and the nearby spirits all fail to implode. "That is remarkably crisp, refreshing, palette-cleansing." He shakes the droplets off his hands, directing them back into the pool. "I don't think there's a kin psychiatrist around any more, is there?"
Mouse shakes her head. "We had one briefly, but he's gone." At this move from Nick, she goes back to watching him with obvious interest. "I don't think he saw anyone, really. And if one did, I think we'd have to be quiet about it. You know, all that lovely shit we still haven't shaken off."
Nicodemus stands and straightens, turning to face you. "A warrior-based culture that's often fixated on physical prowess would obviously, from a cultural perspective, likely view any member's attempts at seeking help to be a sign of weakness. But that still doesn't mean that help ought not be sought." Nick carefully begins moving away from the heart of the glade and towards the lost-stolen-stolen-recovered fetish lending its power to the area. "Okay to touch this? Any guardian spirits protecting it that you're aware of? I'd like to just look at it: no poking." His gloves are retrieved from his pockets and he begins pulling them back on.
"/Exactly/," Mouse says, and she sounds relieved. "That's exactly the problem. It doesn't help that you get the whole metis thing mixed in there, since it's not uncommon for a metis deformity to be mental instead of, or sometimes in addition to, physical." She follows him. "Yeah, it's fine. You won't be able to pick it up though. It's rather spiritually stuck; permanently, this time."
Nicodemus draws nearer to the fetish, studying it. "I feel for you, Mouse. I do." He purses his lips as he eyes the fetish. "I can think of one--maybe three ways--a warper might be able to make off with this. I'd have to spend more time studying it though to be certain, and I might be able to rig up some kind of an alarm system in the event one ever takes a stab at it. But I don't think I could fully prevent it."
"An alarm system would at least let us know when it was happening," Mouse muses. "After all, it was supposed to be permanent the /first/ time, and then Puss in Boots and a tiger showed up."
"You'll have to bring my narrow ass over again a time or three more so I can get a feel for how it works before doing anything." Nick glances over his shoulder at the spirits hanging around the fountain. "Think they'd notice non-flashy magic and tell another garou about me?" A beat. "And I should probably wait until I've talked with Jacinta."
Mouse shakes her head very slightly. "Honestly? I don't know. It depends on the spirit. Most of the smaller ones wouldn't really take note unless you set the Glade on fire. And the others are unlikely to mention it unless a Garou specifically asks, /unless/ they're actually alarmed."
Nicodemus hmms, considering this information. "I'd leave residual traces of magic behind, as it'd be actively powered. I've heard that some of the garou, in particular, are excellent at detecting magical effects." He raises a hand to scratch at the side of his face. "Might be able to do something with non-magical ritual components so if it ever does disappear, it could be tracked better. No alarm, unfortunately. Or extra glue to keep it rooted." He makes a decision. "Subtle might be best in this instance. See? I /can/ learn a lesson from summoning up a thunderstorm.
Mouse offers Nick a faint grin at that. "Uktena," she explains, by way of answer. "Some lupus born, I think. Hell, I wouldn't mind learning, but it's not in my spiritual card catalogue, you might say. Go for subtle. A mage that'd steal a clearly Garou owned fetish out of a Garou frequented Glade probably means we've got more problems than a missing fetish anyway. ...Or just a really really reckless mage."
Nicodemus nods at that. "The reckless ones. The ones out for what they can grab and run with? Those are the ones you have to watch out for," Nick states factually. He then adds, "Or the insane ones. Or the seriously powerful ones." He shrugs and says, "Takes all kinds."
"Sounds familiar," Mouse remarks. By this point she's slid her hands into her coat--it's a noticeably deliberate effort at looking more relaxed than she actually is, as 'relaxed' is simply not a term that describes her when she's standing up these days. "Or all of the above, with our weird luck."
Nicodemus spreads the fingers on his left hand and places it on the ground, deep and firmly into the lush grass, as you speak. Even after you're done, he's silent for a good fifteen or twenty seconds. "Weird luck," he repeats, then finally looks over to you as his left hand rotates 180 degrees, palm up. Remaining crouched, he says, "Remember earlier when you said you missed getting to just run? Now. Now might be a good time to give that a try." He slowly stands, left hand still palm up, and making a subtle lifting gesture as he does so. Simultaneously, gravity seems to lessen around you, reducing to perhaps a quarter of what it was earlier, and reducing a substantial amount of weight on your spine. His head tips to one side in a 'get moving' gesture.
Nicodemus: Starting to fade on this end and that seems like a nice thing Nick could do for Mouse for an hour or so of offscreen levity.
Mouse: Aww. Yeah, that's a good place to end it on.
From afar, to (Mouse, Nicodemus): Riley denounces Mouse.
Long distance to (Riley, Nicodemus): Mouse denounces Riley! warning the world that she is not to be trusted.
To (Mouse, Nicodemus), Riley pages: You will pay for this in time.
You paged (Riley, Nicodemus) with 'I am convinced I have done what's best for my people.'.
From afar, to (Riley, Mouse): Nicodemus eyes all the bodies. Rolls a large rug over the top of them. Tries to stomp down the obvious lumps. Little success is had.
Mouse, Salem, and Nick have a discussion on the roof, and later Mouse takes Nick to see the other side of Harbor Park.
Tenement Building - Roof(#1899RJ)
A low stone lip surrounds the edge of the building's flat roof, about three feet high. Though the stone is stained and filthy, scattered with pigeon droppings and the occasional bit of litter, it does provide an excellent view of the surrounding neighborhood.
Perhaps unexpectedly, there's a small garden that stretches along one side of the building, shielded from the street by height and the rooftop's stone lip. In stark contrast to the neighborhood itself, it appears well-tended.
A narrow structure near the center has a door which leads back down into the building's stairwell.
Contents:
Salem
Nicodemus
Obvious exits:
Stairwell
Nicodemus lifts his eyebrows halfway through Salem's response. "No. Fucking. Way. Seriously?" He asks in disbelief, which then gives way to laughter. When he recovers, he chuckles, "That might explain why she never mentioned me to the sept as the person who gave her a lost, corrupted fetish to dispose of."
Salem flashes another lean, toothy grin and fishes about in his pockets for, yes, another cigarette. "The Sept has a long history of good relations with warpers. Bad, too. It'll come full circle if you seriously start dating one of us, though."
The telltale sounds of glabro Mouse hauling herself up the rooftop steps become audible. They stop briefly; perhaps she's catching her breath.
"Full circle bad? Or full circle good?" Nick inquires. The 'uh oh' is perhaps silent. His gaze shifts towards the door as noises come from that direction.
Salem deadpans, "Depends on the relationship." He gets up and limps over to open the rooftop door for Mouse. "Join the party."
"Yay," Nick deadpans back to Salem. He then stands and heads over to join Mouse, reducing her need to travel about the roof if she intended to join them. "We didn't bring any cake," he says to her, indicating it's not a particularly good party.
Mouse gives Salem a faintly sheepish, all-ugly grimace, and shifts down just as soon as she crosses over the threshold. "Came up for some air," she says, rather breathlessly. "How're things?" The Walker elder almost immediately ends up leaning against the nearest convenient flat surface, although she takes obvious pains to make it look natural, rather than necessary.
Salem limps back over to his perch on the wall and lights up another cigarette. "Nick and I were talking about his upcoming appointment with Jacinta."
Nicodemus brings Mouse up to speed on current events. "Val dropped me a line. Said she'd had a talk with Jacinta about stuff, my name came up, Jacinta grilled her, and she tossed Salem's name into the mix. Said Jacinta was all pissy and...." He hrms to himself, interrupting where he was going with that line of thought. "Salem seems to think it's less Jacinta being pissed at me and more Jacinta being pissed at Val, and that might be coloring how Val communicated things to me about Jacinta."
Mouse shakes her head every so slightly, and rubs at the bridge of her nose. "That's likely," she agrees. "Jacinta hasn't liked or trusted Val for a long time, and as I told you, trust is important to her. I...don't suppose it's worth asking why the hell Val decided to go talk to her in the first place?"
Salem just shakes his head a little and focusses mainly on pulling nicotine into his system.
Nicodemus raises a hand in a 'who knows' gesture. "I could guess, but I'd just be speculating. Although I'm sure part of it was likely an attempt to assure Jacinta I was helpful and friendly and not a threat."
Mouse actually makes a faintly audible groan at that. "Probably. Hell. Okay, yeah. It's /probably/ more likely Jacinta's angry at Val. She already has trust issues with the woman, and by talking about you she pretty much just added on 'keeping secrets' on top of that. Which is irony for you--she gave Jacinta another reason not to trust that she's giving complete information while in the process of giving away /too much/ information."
"Her heart's in the right place," says the old halfmoon with a sigh. "Her brain's... ahh, fuck. She means well."
"She gets frustrated at me a lot for not sharing information with her, but there's a reason I don't. Several very good reasons, actually." Nick nods at Salem. "She does mean well. But Corax clearly have difficulty keeping information secret. Or at least Val does. For the most part." He finishes tacking on qualifiers. "Generally." There. Done.
Mouse taps the side of her head. "Corax," she confirms. "They were made to find out and spread information, from what I understand, not hide it. It's got to be like the worst kind of itch." Her hand lowers, and her focus shifts briefly more to Nick than the two of them, though Salem still seems to be included. "It'll be okay."
"I still maintain that Jacinta's one of the most /rational/ goddamn Garou I've ever known," Salem says. "Woman's like a goddamn rock." He shifts his weight, looking a tetch more irritable all of a sudden, then shakes his head and heads up from his perch. "I'd better head downstairs."
Nicodemus says, "I had a little bit of a freak-out after Val told me about her meeting going poorly and Jacinta being scary as fuck and grilling her to tell her /everything/ about /everything/ and then thinking that I was going to get the same treatment. Salem kind of talked me down from the mutually assured destruction scenario I'd been crafting in my head the past two days." The philodox gets a nod of thanks in acknowledgement. Then back to Mouse "And, in talking about how this all kind of blew up as you and I were poking around with the option of my revealing myself to Jacinta and Elliot, we pieced together that one of the former sept Alphas who knew about me--Andrea Moon-Laughs-Quiet, a Child of Gaia who I'd covertly brought a corrupted fetish to for disposal--might have never told the sept about me because her own mother was apparently a warper. She probably knew the dangers inherent to making that kind of knowledge into general knowledge. So maybe that'll help assuade Jacinta's fears and get her to cut you and Salem both some slack. I mean, hell, if a former sept Alpha let it slide and all...."
"I don't know," Mouse says, admitting a little bit of uncertainty. "Sometimes Jacinta's about as readable as a stone too." Salem gets a firm, silently grateful nod, but she makes no attempt to stop him--it is, after all, the full moon. "And she's Wendigo. The word of a Child of Gaia might carry more weight than, say, a Shadow Lord, or even a Glass Walker she doesn't know, but I'm not convinced she'd consider that proof she should ease back. She takes the protection of the Caern damn seriously; it's why she's such a good Warder. That said, she's not a fanatic, like a few others I could name."
Salem waves a hand vaguely as he heads downstairs and back into full moon seclusion.
"Like the fanatical one that was sneaking into the city and killing families earlier that Riley had to deal with, pissing off the Red Talons in the process?" Nick conjectures. He offers a nod towards Salem as he disappears, but it's doubtful the moon-pulled philodox spots. Focusing on you, he holds up his thumb. "One: Tell Jacinta the Glass Walkers took me in as kin and I consider them to be family." Index finger. "Two: Tell Jacinta I've been using magic to benefit the Walker tribe in various capacities." Middle finger. "Three: When the Glass Walkers' needs dovetailed in with the sept's needs, I've indirectly been aiding the sept. See, for example, rendering those BSDs' silver bullets non-functional before the garou cleaned them out, rendering good luck unto you in performing the caern's re-awakening rite, and assisting in gathering information about the visions the garou were having about the caern and wasps." Ring finger. "Four: I was in the process of working with you to reveal myself to Jacinta and Elliot so as to help the sept out and re-establish a relationship that died out some time ago when the prior mages all moved on--or were killed." Pinkie finger. "Five: Things didn't go as I'd planned. Still interested in a partnership. Or do I just confine my aid to the Glass Walkers and completely ignore the other garou? Because that can go either way." He waits to see what Mouse thinks.
Mouse looks thoughtful. "Hmn. I'd say go in with that list, but don't present it to her like a list. Just talk to her. Answer as honestly as you can. And if you're not opposed, I'd like to try to Sense Wyrm on you out in the woods shortly before the meeting, just to make sure you haven't picked anything up, because if anything could tank this meeting about as fast as an offer of blankets--/something a dumbass Garou once actually tried/, I'll point out--it's any kind of taint."
"I'd check myself right now, but I'm going to assume that reliably detecting Wyrm on oneself is about a feasable as reliably self-diagnosing oneself with insanity." Nick nods. "Sure. I'd need you as an escort into the woods, though. After your initial warning to stay out, I've only been back to get some essentials out of my cabin and haven't been back since." He glances irritably at the moon and gripes, "Not having a reasonably safe place to practice makes it hard to pop over into the umbra and experiment with bending reality." He then catches something he almost overlooked. "Someone. Brought. Blankets? Fucking moron."
"I shit you not," Mouse confirms. "Thankfully he's become a little wiser since then, but Jesus Christ." She pauses, then gives Nick a slightly sidelong look. "Weeell," she says slowly. "It /is/ the full moon. We could always look for someplace new. You haven't seen the Glade yet, or the other side of the Tenement. And there's always the bit of land we own."
"I've already gotten a taste of how well the garou mind tresspassing laws and private property cross-realms. I think the Walker property would be a bad idea. Hell, that's why I bought acreage further north of the caern--so I'd be further away. But close to a road and shelter. Tent camping? Not as fun as they make it look on television." He clears his throat before admitting, "I've already looked at the other side of the tenement. Didn't cross over. Just looked. Just in case I needed to use it as an emergency exit." That leaves.... "Think we could do the glade? Would you be able to do that Sense Wyrm thing there?"
Mouse says, with a completely straight face, "That's because you didn't piss on your borders, you realize." She can't quite keep the hint of a grin from cracking around the edges of her mouth after that, however. "We can definitely do it there, yeah. Hell, I can do it here, but I want to be extra sure, and while our building is clean the neighborhood isn't exactly Gaia's finest."
Nicodemus mumbles, "Location, location, location. And my place is--was--100 acres. My bladder is not that big. If I'm not allowed back out there, I'll probably loan its use out to the Walkers so long as I've got a place here." He looks over the city towards where the park is. "If we run into someone.... What's your take on Jacinta with her revealing me to the sept at large? Think that's going to happen? Because if so, better to tell the Glass Walkers up front rather than letting them find out from their friends at school where they might not get all their facts straight."
Mouse shakes her head. "I don't know. I don't /think/ so. As for your cabin, honestly, it's not Sept territory and it's not near the Bawn. I don't think anyone's going to stop you from going out there, I just wanted to make sure you didn't have visitors dropping in expecting to find some new kind of fomor."
Umbra: Harbor Park
The Umbral ground beneath your feet here is lush with vegetation, an oasis of life amidst the concrete and webbing of the scab. Trees stand proud and tall here, their branches full of leaves. Shrubs line the outer edges of the park, tangled with encroaching webs. The fountain stands out boldly from even the surrounding area, the sleek lines sharper and more pronounced. Clean pure water roars and cascades from the figure in the fountain's center, falling into a cold clear pool that looks quite inviting. Spreading out from the fountain, the rest of the park is a green veldt that seems to radiate life and strength. The river banks the east shore of the park, bridged by a massive rusty bridge. On this shore, the glade seems to have spread out on to it, vines winding around the supports. Further across the river, the bridge melds into the scab again, flaked with rust and covered in webs. The river itself is clean within a few feet of the shore, but black ooze seems to encroach menacingly from the murk of the rest of the river.
A walkway leads out of the Glade-like atmosphere of the park from just north of the fountain. Eastward, the dark span of the bridge stretches over the vile river. Dark streets lead west and southwest into the blighted Umbra of the city.
The Umbral Glade is lit at all times as if it is the full moon.
Contents:
Luna's Face
Obvious exits:
South North Southwest West Bridge
Nicodemus crosses over with the aid of the theurges gift. He acts less like a person in awe of getting into the umbra and more like a partially seasoned garou happening upon a glade. "Oh, nice. Niiiiice," he says, drawing out the word appreciatively as he looks around. The fountain and the fetish get the most attention. "You can really feel the spiritual resonance a lot stronger from this side." It's also like he's seen it before, and possible watched it as well. "Stick close and don't take candy from strange spirits?" he inquires of you.
Mouse looks pleased all the same, as if she were showing off a new car. "Yeah, let's start with that," she says, as she looks around, then points to a cockroach spirit roughly the size of a small dog that's trundling toward them. "She's okay though. She's with us."
"Is there a limit to how often you can use that gift to carry people back and forth? Just one person at a time, or does it get harder when you try to do more than one person?" Questions, questions. Nick seems okay with the roach spirit headed their way, possibly because he's seen them before and/or possibly because you've informed him that this one, in particular, is 'okay.' "Hey there," he says to the roach spirit." He doesn't recoil from it, but he doesn't attempt to pet it or anything along those lines either.
"It costs me some energy," Mouse explains, as she carefully, experimentally rolls one shoulder upward and grimaces. "But in theory, I can bring more than one person with me. We're attached though. You can't get too far away from me, or vice versa." She moves her fingers near a glittering strand of...something, that's more sensed than seen. "And if shit goes bad, I can expend some effort and send you straight back to where we entered. Initially I wanted to learn it in case the Tenement was attacked, and we needed to get kin or new cubs out." The large cockroach spirit responds with a--curious? It's hard to ascribe emotions to an insect--waving of its antennae, and it stops just out of reach of both of them, occasionally making a dry, rustling click. "This is Kakkerlak," Mouse explains. "She used to be my pack totem."
:nods to you regarding using the gift as an escape route. "That's actually a really good idea. Good to have a backup plan just in case, and then hope it's never needed. I can likely get myself out, probably, but I can't take anyone else with me." He looks to where your hand goes, near the strand linking him to you. "Ah, I see. Kind of like the silver cord that supposedly links a person's physical body to their mind or soul if they're astrally projecting." He reaches his own hand down, as if touching this invisible cord. His fingers gently hold it as he shifts his stance a little to get a closer look at the spirit. "Hey, Kakkerlak. You have a very unusual name."
Once more, the only response Nick gets is waving antennae and clicking. It's not clear whether the spirit can understand him; probably not. She's certainly a fine representative of the species, with a dark shiny carapace and general healthy look (as much as can be determined for a cockroach). "Probably a lot like," Mouse agrees, without bothering to hide her own curiosity. "In any case, no one's ever accused me of not being paranoid enough. Compromised safehouses are pretty inevitable." Her attention likewise shifts a little more to the spirit. "Few years back, when the pack she was totem of went completely to shit, a fox and coyote spirit thought it'd be hilarious to try and make us appreciate the spirits more by kidnapping totem spirits. I didn't really have a pack around any more to help me look for her, and then the pack connection with her dissolved. So I, ah." She clears her throat. "Did something immensely unwise, really."
"A little paranoia, for people like us is definitely not a bad thing. Especially for you, as you're leading others, responsible for them, and they look to you for guidance, safety, and answers. Particularly when the shit hits the fan." Nick looks as if he might say more, then shifts to the other topic. "Took it out on Fox and Coyote and pissed both of them off?" he hazards as a possibility, dividing his attention between the Walker elder and Kakkerlak.
Mouse actually laughs. "No, but I think KL tried to go that route. No, I went looking for her on my own. It's a long story that involved talking to a newspaper and a lamppost, beating up some sort of Wyrmy shadow spirit--/me/, but I had help--and then finding her in some Wyrm tainted post office of all places. That's how I got trapped in the Umbra for about a week. It's not an experience I recommend."
Nicodemus looks slightly taken aback by this claim. "I thought it was really, really, really bad to get caught up in the umbra during the day? How'd you manage to survive for an entire week?" Oddly enough, talking to a paper and a lampost and then beating up a shadow-self doesn't seem to phase the mage one bit. "I've got a theory on how I might be able to pass myself off as a Weaver or Wyrm or Wyld spirit, but I've not had a chance to test it out--and I doubt you'd want me to bring some of the stuff I'd need to this glade."
"Good question," Mouse says, with a decided grimace. "The post office was filled with Wyrm tainted Weaver spirits. I got Kakkerlak out, but got quite literally webbed in the process. That..." she says very slowly, "is doubly not recommended. She had to find Salem and Kavi to get me out." One eyebrow lifts. "I've heard of talens or fetishes that can do that. Given what's usually needed to make those, yeah, I wouldn't bring any materials here."
Nicodemus hmmms. "You," he says, pointing briefly in your direction with a gloved index finger, "were incredibly lucky that Kakkerlak had an investment in you, be it pack-related or tribal affiliation. That situation could have gone horribly wrong in very short order. Glad you eventually got rescued, though." He nods, likely confirming your suspicion about materials that might be required to pull off what he'd suggested earlier. "Pretending to be an aligned spirit would not be something I'd care to do for more than ten or twenty minutes, much less an entire week, but it might be a useful trick to pull out of my hat should I ever find myself in a bad situation where there were no other viable options." He looks beyond the glade's borders, out into the city's umbra and its blending of Wyld, Wyrm, and Weaver in a constant tug-of-war for power." Maybe give Weaver a try. But /after/ meeting with Jacinta: I don't want to meet with her while I smell suspect. Speaking of, is this a good place and time to check me out?"
"Just don't get webbed," Mouse warns. "You can't exactly move to do anything when that happens. You're right, I'm lucky I wasn't just completely calcified. Honestly, I'm not entirely sure why..." but that line of thinking is clearly not one she enjoys, and so the subject change comes with obvious welcome. "Yeah, this should work." She turns her full attention on the mage now. To the casual, non-magical observer, it doesn't look like she does anything. To Nick, it should be pretty obvious when she activates her gift.
Nicodemus stands still for it, as if having his picture taken, and blinks twice once the gift is activated--the only indication he knows its been used. There's no indication of Wyrm emminating from him.
Mouse eases once the gift ends, and gives Nick the closest thing to a shrug she can manage while standing. "You're clean. Wyrm-wise, anyway. If you start becoming obsessive over patterns, I'll have to ask Salem to look at you. --That," she says, a little slower again, "happened to another Glass Walker who got trapped in a Weaver web. Though she didn't have the indignity of being stuffed into a damn parcel cart. Anyway, ah. Well. I saved her, she saved me. Friendship kind've grew from that. Like I said, the pack bond had dissolved."
"I'm not skilled enough to manipulate patterns to my will. Not yet, anyway. And not for the foreseeable future. I'll probably need to locate something--preferably a portable object--that reeks of Weaver if I'm going tomake a go at outfoxing Weaver spirits. I had a run-in with a Weaver spirit trying to web me before I came back to St. Clair," Nick claims. "It was in the spirit world, following me around, so I hadn't noticed it influencing my actions for some time. I hiked out to the woods where there was no one around, then I channeled energy, reached across and gave it a wicked jolt of electricity. That did the trick and ran it away." Nick observes, glancing at the roach spirit not too far away, "Kakkerlak still seems to like you. Or at least favor you."
"Friends," Mouse explains, as if this were an entirely natural thing, friendship with a spirit bug. "Hell, I probably talk to her more than anyone. And I meant," and here she barely hides her amusement, "actual patterns. Numbers, shapes, general obsession with order. The Glass Walker I mentioned, it came across almost as OCD." Seriousness returns. "Definitely sounds like it was trying to taint you, or worse."
Nicodemus mmms and nods in agreement. "It wasn't after me specifically. I don't think it realized what I was. It was after pretty much the entire office." He theorizes, "After all, the banking industry is all about patterns of predictability and order. It's only natural that it'd attract Weaver spirits--and, by proxy, create an enviroment where it's easier to extend that spiritual tain across the gauntlet." His attention drifts back to the cockroach spirit. "I'm not sure if you'd heard or noticed, but Val befriended a stormcrow spirit about a year ago. Is developing friendship with spirits something that comes easily to the garou and the other fera?"
Mouse nods in agreement, then follows Nick's gaze to Kakkerlak. "I suppose the answer to that is yes, and no. Yes, if you've got the spiritual knowhow, the opportunity, and the ability to communicate in some way; not necessarily verbally. Jacinta is pretty friendly with a wind spirit, herself, and she mentioned once that Silvertip knew a bear quite well. As a Theurge, you kind've get to know spirits in the area as a rule, unless you're doing your job poorly. But there are an awful lot of Garou that really don't pay enough attention to spiritual matters, and are complete fucking morons when it comes to dealing with them. That's a shame. As for the Fera? I...really don't know enough about them to say. It's probably similar, though that Bastet, the tiger? He mentioned something about how Bastet need special ways to get into the umbra, and that's why this fetish was such a big deal. Still, he had some insane...I'd never seen a spirit like the one he was friendly with. Think Puss in Boots, Shrek-style, only nuttier."
"He." Nick identifies which Tiger is being talked about based on gender. "Karuvar. Met him one time. He seemed okay. Intelligent. Doubt he had a clue about me, though. And that spirit? Yeah, that does sound kind of insane. Although," he hypothesizes, "I imagine there's as many kinds of spirits out there as people can dream up." Nick looks towards the fountain, takes a step towards it, and then stops immediately to check with you. "It's okay to get closer or....?"
Mouse actually grins at that. "There are precisely that many," she agrees. "And he set me on fire. I'm not forgetting that one." She nods at Nick, however. "Yeah, it's okay. As long as you don't do anything threatening, they should be fine with you. And I'm on hand in case of misunderstandings."
Nicodemus nods, turns, and begins walking slowly and non-threateningly towards the heart of the glade. "I'm not really thrilled with him having set you on fire, either. I'm just glad you pulled through it and relations were finally smoothed over." He pauses to allow a pair of butterfly spirits to flit past, then resumes his course. "I haven't heard anything about him or Baukhain in quite a while. I think it was about half a year ago that Urick and Bauk bought that house together?" He admits, "I've not even been over to see it yet. Just sent them a housewarming gift. I guess they largely keep to themselves and value their privacy, which I can certainly understand." He comes to a halt near the edge of the fountain, eyeing the structure and the flow of the fluids. He peels his gloves off as he does so, exposing his quite-normal-looking hands.
Mouse makes a noise that's somewhat pained, and it doesn't seem entirely connected to her turning to follow after Nick at that slow, dragging shuffle of hers. "Yes, well, the thing with that is, Urick has a goddamned duty that he's ignoring to play sexy times with Miss Kitty. He keeps on it much longer and I'm going to have to twist his ear back the right way." Nick's hands get an interested look.
Nicodemus pockets his black leather gloves and flexes his fingers, all the while having a mildly embarrassed look on his face. "I kind of suspected that that was what the two of them were up to. Far be it from me to begrude someone of the happiness they've found though. Especially you guys, where happiness seems to be far more fleeting than usual." Switching to a potentially less controversial topic, he asks, "It's okay to touch the waters, right?"
"It's okay unless they say it's not," Mouse replies, ever so helpfully. Something seems to have shifted in her demeanor though, and she seems a little...quieter? Her expression is more thoughtful, in any case. "Plenty of Garou manage to balance the two in some way, otherwise we'd never reproduce at all. But personal happiness is never an excuse to ignore--" pause. "I mean, if it was, how many of us would say fuck it to the whole dying young and violently thing? I certainly would."
Nicodemus crouches slightly, slowly spreads his hands apart from one another, and--watching the milling spirits closely--eases his left hand into the brisk water. When nothing happens, he adds his right hand into the liquid. Nothing happens still, so he looks at his submerged hands through the water itself. "Urick looks like he's been through a silver meat grinder. Twice. Seems like he ought to get some slack for that? At least for a while until he.... I wouldn't be surprised if he's trying to relocate his center. Maybe instead of taking a forceful approach to bringing him back into things, giving him a few smaller things to do might help get the ball rolling, and he could then haul himself up by his own boostraps, so to speak." Nick cups his hands together, capturing some of the water, and lifting it gingerly out of the pool by about six inches. It trickles through his fingers and runs down the backs of his arms, returning to the pool on its own terms.
Mouse sighs. "You're right, if that's actually the case. Not that Garou tend to work that way. Honestly, I haven't seen enough of him to be able to even tell."
Nicodemus watches as the water filters back to where it came from, save for some still clinging to his skin and hairs. "He left here, went to the Amazon, found a pack with an add-on Tiger, fought the good fight for a while, then the entire pack was wiped out and he was left maimed, crippled, and the lone survivor. He then returned back here." The mage dips his hands into the water again, cupping them to extract more liquid. "He's very likely got lingering issues. That's not the kind of thing you brush off easily--if ever--even if you can turn into a werewolf and thought the idea of a bumper sticker that read "Gaia's Chosen" would be funny were it not a potential Veil breach." Nick suggests, "Maybe he needs to talk with one of the Children? Maybe Topsy would do it?"
Mouse makes that faintly pained noise again. "Nick, that's...not really something Garou tend to talk about. I guess the Children of Gaia might, but really only if it's--we're not exactly progressive. Emotional problems? /Really/ not progressive. Even having a kinfolk psychologist around is fucking rare." She's not really looking at the mage--or the fountain--anymore. Of all things, her gaze has gone back to Kakkerlak. "--Anyway, believe me. You don't have to tell me about how you don't get over losing a pack."
Nicodemus cups his hands a third time, bringing it closer to scrutinize the water temporarily trapped within, then bends his head down to take a small sip--something that'd be less than adviseable in the physical realm. He, the fountain, and the nearby spirits all fail to implode. "That is remarkably crisp, refreshing, palette-cleansing." He shakes the droplets off his hands, directing them back into the pool. "I don't think there's a kin psychiatrist around any more, is there?"
Mouse shakes her head. "We had one briefly, but he's gone." At this move from Nick, she goes back to watching him with obvious interest. "I don't think he saw anyone, really. And if one did, I think we'd have to be quiet about it. You know, all that lovely shit we still haven't shaken off."
Nicodemus stands and straightens, turning to face you. "A warrior-based culture that's often fixated on physical prowess would obviously, from a cultural perspective, likely view any member's attempts at seeking help to be a sign of weakness. But that still doesn't mean that help ought not be sought." Nick carefully begins moving away from the heart of the glade and towards the lost-stolen-stolen-recovered fetish lending its power to the area. "Okay to touch this? Any guardian spirits protecting it that you're aware of? I'd like to just look at it: no poking." His gloves are retrieved from his pockets and he begins pulling them back on.
"/Exactly/," Mouse says, and she sounds relieved. "That's exactly the problem. It doesn't help that you get the whole metis thing mixed in there, since it's not uncommon for a metis deformity to be mental instead of, or sometimes in addition to, physical." She follows him. "Yeah, it's fine. You won't be able to pick it up though. It's rather spiritually stuck; permanently, this time."
Nicodemus draws nearer to the fetish, studying it. "I feel for you, Mouse. I do." He purses his lips as he eyes the fetish. "I can think of one--maybe three ways--a warper might be able to make off with this. I'd have to spend more time studying it though to be certain, and I might be able to rig up some kind of an alarm system in the event one ever takes a stab at it. But I don't think I could fully prevent it."
"An alarm system would at least let us know when it was happening," Mouse muses. "After all, it was supposed to be permanent the /first/ time, and then Puss in Boots and a tiger showed up."
"You'll have to bring my narrow ass over again a time or three more so I can get a feel for how it works before doing anything." Nick glances over his shoulder at the spirits hanging around the fountain. "Think they'd notice non-flashy magic and tell another garou about me?" A beat. "And I should probably wait until I've talked with Jacinta."
Mouse shakes her head very slightly. "Honestly? I don't know. It depends on the spirit. Most of the smaller ones wouldn't really take note unless you set the Glade on fire. And the others are unlikely to mention it unless a Garou specifically asks, /unless/ they're actually alarmed."
Nicodemus hmms, considering this information. "I'd leave residual traces of magic behind, as it'd be actively powered. I've heard that some of the garou, in particular, are excellent at detecting magical effects." He raises a hand to scratch at the side of his face. "Might be able to do something with non-magical ritual components so if it ever does disappear, it could be tracked better. No alarm, unfortunately. Or extra glue to keep it rooted." He makes a decision. "Subtle might be best in this instance. See? I /can/ learn a lesson from summoning up a thunderstorm.
Mouse offers Nick a faint grin at that. "Uktena," she explains, by way of answer. "Some lupus born, I think. Hell, I wouldn't mind learning, but it's not in my spiritual card catalogue, you might say. Go for subtle. A mage that'd steal a clearly Garou owned fetish out of a Garou frequented Glade probably means we've got more problems than a missing fetish anyway. ...Or just a really really reckless mage."
Nicodemus nods at that. "The reckless ones. The ones out for what they can grab and run with? Those are the ones you have to watch out for," Nick states factually. He then adds, "Or the insane ones. Or the seriously powerful ones." He shrugs and says, "Takes all kinds."
"Sounds familiar," Mouse remarks. By this point she's slid her hands into her coat--it's a noticeably deliberate effort at looking more relaxed than she actually is, as 'relaxed' is simply not a term that describes her when she's standing up these days. "Or all of the above, with our weird luck."
Nicodemus spreads the fingers on his left hand and places it on the ground, deep and firmly into the lush grass, as you speak. Even after you're done, he's silent for a good fifteen or twenty seconds. "Weird luck," he repeats, then finally looks over to you as his left hand rotates 180 degrees, palm up. Remaining crouched, he says, "Remember earlier when you said you missed getting to just run? Now. Now might be a good time to give that a try." He slowly stands, left hand still palm up, and making a subtle lifting gesture as he does so. Simultaneously, gravity seems to lessen around you, reducing to perhaps a quarter of what it was earlier, and reducing a substantial amount of weight on your spine. His head tips to one side in a 'get moving' gesture.
