"You have something to explain to me?"
Jul. 26th, 2013 06:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
renferretMouse and Nick meet with Elliot this time, only to find out that someone else told him about the whole mage thing first.
Edgewood House: Meadow(#1390RJh)
A long, hard-packed dirt road winds almost a mile through the forest off Sunrise Road, eventually opening out into a small front yard, and coming to a stop in front of a large house, which may be the very definition of ramshackle. The house is not visible from the road, nor can one hear anything but perhaps a gunshot. Its foundation and general structure are solid, but its once crisp grey-and-white paint needs updating, and some of the trim is having trouble staying attached. A fixer upper, one might say. Off to the left, there's a former garage, long since converted into something of an in-law apartment. A connecting flyover attaches it to the second floor of the house.
There are no fences surrounding either the front or back yards. In the rear of the property, the yard (larger than in the front) eventually comes up against a well built garden, with the very beginnings of sprouts. Shaded and obscured by surrounding trees, there is a small (but deep) natural pond, with a chuckling brook leading out of it, into the woods. There's a rope swing hanging from one of the trees. The yard to the southeast of the property stretches on for a time, and then is eaten by woods, into which there may or may not be a path; it apparently fades away quickly. There's a certain looming feel to these woods.
Obvious exits:
Narrow Path Sunrise Road Front Door Barn/Garage
Mouse received two texts. One said 'We need to talk.' and the next said, 'Edgewood. 2 hours.' And then, radio silence! It's nearly exactly two hours on the nose that the jeep heads up the road to Edgewood. There's nothing rushed about the driving, at least.
Nick drives Mouse out to the farmhouse, parking the car in the driveway, and escorts her halfway across the meadow for her meet with Elliot, affording the two garou some level of privacy.
Mouse's remaining lone walk is stiff and dragging, as seems to be her natural movement these days. She's there on time, at least, and while she might be read as a little wary, there's nothing openly hostile or surprised about her demeanor.
The jeep parks, and the occupant takes his time about getting out of the car. The door finally shuts, but he doesn't bother locking it. The Fianna looks over at Mouse; there's no denying there's a strong sense of disappointment and a sharp sense of anger, though it's a cold-burning sort. "You have something to explain to me?"
Mouse crosses her arms over her chest and frowns faintly. "I'm going to assume someone's already told you about my kinfolk. Not Jacinta? She knew I was coming to see you."
Nicodemus lingers nervously off to one side and out of the way as the two tribal elders conduct business. His fingers alternately flex and clench.
Nicodemus starts gathering up some Forces magic. Just in case.
"Yes." The word is short, but not openly hostile. Elliot stops a few feet away, thumbs hooked in his belt loops; a glance is given over toward Nicodemus, but apparently there's more important things to focus on, as his attention returns to Mouse. "You want to start explaining why I had to hear it from someone -else-?"
"I don't know," Mouse says, sounding a little flat. "Because we--the both of us--just met with Jacinta last night, and were coming to tell you as soon as I could get a hold of you." She inhales, and the flatness bleeds from her tone. "But as to why you haven't heard this before now; I was protecting my family. That's all I can say to explain, Elliot. I know it's not enough."
"I should have been told before Jacinta," he says, equally flat, but he just eyes her. "I get that. But you heard me, you /listened/ to me tell everyone else that any and -all- of those who aren't us--" He trails off, getting a grip on a momentary flash of anger, and then he advances on her, voice raising as he positively bleeds every ounce of rank and his position. "That isn't just to keep them from hurting us, that's to keep those who might be friendly to us to keep from being -fucking butchered- by some blood-happy Get or some other crap. I would hope you'd get by now that if I'm open to a goddamned tiger and fox being around, I wouldn't exactly be--" He lifts a hand, gesturing in the air, and then just shoves that hand through his hair. Breathe in, breathe out, and then rage is calmed and his next words are level: "Who is it."
Nicodemus coughs politely, hands now clasp before him. Subtle.
Mouse weathers the Rage, but she's not unaffected. Her stance changes--her arms tighten against her chest, her shoulders lower, and her gaze goes noticeably downward. If she were in a form to show it, her ears would be noticeably slicked back. "Yes," she agrees. "You should have. Nothing about this has gone the way we were planning to bring it to you. Since you made that announcement, I've been trying to work out a way to let you know that one was around. I wanted to be careful. You've dealt with mages before; I wanted to see how you felt regarding them. And I felt it was important not to break his trust--I felt it wasn't my secret to share." She inhales rather sharply, and finally lifts her eyes again--though not all the way to his. "None of which excuses me. I'm sorry." She lets those words settle for a moment, before jerking her chin in Nicodemus's direction, a silent answer to the question.
Watching Mouse, the Fianna ragabash calms considerably, and he just watches her for a moment, form easing. There's nothing directly said, but he follows her gaze over to Nicodemus. There's a hint of something - surprise, maybe - but he turns his attention toward the man. In the same gesture, a hand is set on Mouse's shoulder, the squeeze brief, a silent sort of acceptance of her apology, and then he addresses Nick directly. "I've heard you've been here for awhile. And that you've been helping us on the sidelines for awhile. That right?"
There was building tension in the mage, but it lessens considerably once Elliot places a hand on Mouse's shoulder in a gesture of friendship. He unclasps his gloved hands. "From the shadows, yes. The garou here have, in the past, killed at least one of my kind who was an open ally to them," he explains. "So, yes, I have naturally been quite cautious about dealing with your kind, and I prefer anonymity." He motions with his head towards Mouse. "Everything she's said is true. She'd encouraged me to come forward to you and Jacinta some months ago. I've been hesitant to do so, but we were moving in that direction. Had it not been for Mouse's efforts," the world-bender admits, "I would not be here speaking with you, and I would never have met with Jacinta last night." He assures you, "We were going to speak with you, but I wanted to wait until the moon was slimmer--and Jacinta agreed that was acceptable."
Mouse flicks a startled glance toward Elliot at the touch and squeeze before she can catch herself--she looks, for a moment, genuinely surprised--and her demeanor seems to settle and relax as well. As Nick speaks, she remains quiet, not interrupting.
"This doesn't mean I'm not still pissed off," Elliot asides back to Mouse, but it's not nearly as hot as it was, and then he returns his attention to Nick. He listens wtihout interruption, and then gives a nod to the last. "I have some experience with yours, too. Sucking the gnosis out've one of our glades in LA. It was my adren challenge to get deal with 'em." That's frank, almost conversational. "They aren't dead. Or hurt. We came to an understanding. You get me? The world's fucked enough without those of us who are -- mostly -- on the same side to be killing each other off." That said, he approaches Nick, offering a hand out; an open offer for a handshake, brows tipped up. "If you're on our side, I don't have a problem with you. As long as you understand how important those places are to us. And don't -- turn me or one've mine into a frog or something." Wouldn't be a ragabash without a wry attempt at levity.
Nicodemus seems a little hesitant to approach the sept Alpha initially, then what remained of the built-up tension seems to be released from him. He steps forward to formally re-greet the Fianna and shake his hand. "I prefer newts over frogs," he claims, though it seems tongue in cheek. He seems to have a sense of humor as well. "We've met before, but.... Nick Dalton. Kin to the Glass Walkers," he says first. Next comes, "World-bender." He assures you, "And I understand the importance of places of power. I also protect them, and I had some small measure of influence in assisting the garou in reclaiming the caern here." No small claims indeed. His handshake is not crushing, but it is surprisingly forceful for someone lacking much in the way of muscles or mass.
Mouse's only response is a mild nod, but there's no return of any tension to her. Overall, she seems relieved, if anything.
Elliot's handshake is firm, without pretense, and brief. The humor draws a thin smile out of the ragabash, and he takes a step back, not remaining in the kin-mage's space for long. He's not overly wary, posture relaxed. "So I'm guessing you have cleared yourself with Jacinta, or else you probably wouldn't be here, so I'm not going to repeat what she's probably told you. I'll only add: let me know if people give you shit. I'm not going to blow your cover because there are some here that will not take it that well. And," he adds, turning a bit of an exasperated look back to Mouse, "I trust Mouse's judgment, so if she's willing to vouch for you, I'm fine with you being around places like this and as you were."
"Very willing," Mouse confirms. "Jacinta did tell us that she can't keep a secret from her pack. I'm not sure if you and she would be willing to speak to her pack members regarding the importance of discretion or not; but either way, he obviously also has the full protection of my tribe."
"I think my cover is pretty much blown, as Jacinta said she had to tell her pack about me. It's going to leak out," Nick states with conviction, essentially echoing what Mouse said. "It's only a matter of time. I suspect someone will, at some point, attempt something. I'm very much a live-and-let-live kind of guy, but I /will/ defend myself."
There's a bit of a frown at Mouse's words, a furrowing of the brow, and then a consideration of Nick's words. "As anyone would," he says, frankly. "I can talk to them. I just don't think an announcement would go over well, because you're always going to have someone with more rage than sense." He looks thoughtful, though. "How many people know, right now?"
Mouse exhales softly as she considers that question. "Other than me, one...three, discounting Jacinta."
Nicodemus adds to that, "And whoever got wind of the meeting last night and told you."
Elliot looks aside to Nick at the addition and considers that number, something of a wry smile forming at some inward thought. He does not, however, say whatever came to mind. "Are you the only one in town?" he asks, this one more directly angled at Nick. "I know your people sometimes work in groups."
Mouse looks toward Nicodemus. Her hands move now, from the reflexively defensive motion across her chest to the much more relaxed--at least outwardly--position of her coat pockets.
"I used to be," Nick says after a moment's hesitation. "And before you ask me," he says, perhaps heading the next question off at the pass, "ask yourself if you would give me the names and contact information and numbers of all the garou at this sept. I will say this, though. The ones I know of mean the garou absolutely no harm unless threatened. And, in a pinch, I can likely get them to pull together with me in defense of the caern--or as a defense against a warper who's hostile to the garou or the caern."
"I wasn't going to ask," Elliot replies, though he's considering Nick a little. "And I won't. But, two things: you may be asked to act as a --bridge, of sorts, if it's needed, between us and them. And," he adds, "I can't guarantee their protection if they're found out and I don't know them. That's not a threat, that's not me trying to pressure names out've you. I'm just saying: if they want to come out to me, to Mouse, to Jacinta, I'm willing to hear 'em out."
A flicker of definite surprise crosses Mouse's face as Nick speaks, but it's gone quickly.
Nicodemus contemplates the Fianna elder's words for a moment before he responds. "I can act as a bridge between the two groups, sure. I will, however, caution them about coming forward anytime soon until we see if--and how fast--my name gets passed around. Jacinta was quite adamant about not holding information back from her pack or anyone who directly asked her." The mage adds, "That's not a request for you to put a leash on Jacinta, either. That's just me not wanting to unnecessarily endanger others." To illustrate the point, he provides an example. "It only takes one garou--like that Red Talon who was killing whole families in the city last year--to decide the only good warper is a dead warper. And all they need is a tracking rite or gift and a name."
Elliot features darken a tad at the reminder of the Red Talon, but he only nods once. "Yeah, I get you. And I do understand." A pause for thought, and he adds, "The younger ones, really, are the ones that I'd be the most concerned about, because they're the ones trying the hardest to prove themselves. But there's a handful of us that, I think, will be willing to at least come to an understanding."
"A handful?" Nick says with a hint of disbelief, or perhaps disappointment. He then acquiesces, "Most of yours do seem young. Youth, power, fanaticism, and a chip on the shoulder tend to be a terrible combination." He inquires, "Out of curiosity, when you dealt with those other mages during your adren challenge, what was it that they did? And did they use any magic in defending themselves or mention what Tradition they were affiiated with?"
"That's a story and a half," Elliot says, reaching a hand back to rub the back of his neck, a touch ruefully. "They were draining one of our glades, and had a fetish of ours. They wanted me to get it back and get them to knock it off one way or another. Long story short, the 'knock it off' part was easy, but I had to trail them halfway across the country to get the fetish back. The leader was --oh, I always forget. Hermit? Herm-- something? I don't know about the others." Shows how much mage knowledge he has. "And yes. They did. Magic, that is. They never tried to kill us, though, and when we caught up with them we returned the favor."
Mouse regards Elliot with a thoughtful look, measuring, then looks back to Nick.
"Hermetic," Nick says, filling in the missing syllables. "You were.... Lucky. And considerate. But that does bring up another issue I'd like to address." He clears his throat and continues. "In the past, I've returned fetishes to the garou here. It seems only fair that, should the garou here come into possession of a talisman--sort of a fetish for mages--that it be surrendered, through channels, back to me."
Elliot looks at Nick for a minute at that request, then back to Mouse. There's a moment of quiet thought. "There is something I've been made aware of. A knife. Mouse, do you know about that?"
"Yeah," Mouse says grimly. "Nick's aware of it too. I haven't had any chance to look at it, but I've heard about what it can do."
Nicodemus admits openly, "I've already had my hands on it. I could have taken it if I'd wanted to. But instead, I told Val what I knew about it from a brief examination so that the information could be used...." He trails off, then looks to Elliot. "The resonance on that knife? Whoever made it made it specifically to hurt shifters. However, it would be useful against Spirals, not just Gaian Garou. The effects of the knife are not permanent. If the warper who had created it had just a little more talent, the knife could have clearly separated a garou's spirit permanently from its body. KL got lucky."
"It could be used for spirals," Elliot agrees, "But I don't want someone playing with it and nicking themselves and ending up stuck in homid." The concept of the spirit being separated causes a deep frown, and he then looks at Nick. "Is there any way to track who made it?"
This time, Mouse gives Nick a rather sharp look, though she says nothing.
"It is possible, though likely beyond my own abilities. I won't know unless I'm given the knife to look over." Nick does offer a little hope. "What I could likely do? If I have the knife, and I know where and when KL killed the person who stabbed her, I could probably tell if the deceased was the world-bender that created this artifact. If he's dead? Case closed. If it was a minion? Then there's a hostile mage out there arming those who would do harm to you and yours."
Elliot considers - it takes him a minute of mulling things over, and his expression is frankly a little difficult to read. "That could be useful," he says after a moment with a bit of a nod. "And, yes, important information. Especially considering from what I heard whoever it was was going after kids."
There's something faint in Mouse's otherwise neutral expression that speaks to some spark of...anger? Unhappiness? There's something that's bothering her, in any case, though she hides it well. She remains quiet.
Nicodemus looks sidelong towards Mouse, as if assessing whether he's doing something to upset her. "You mentioned earlier that those mages you interacted with for your adren challenge had been damaging a glade. Glades are not the only source of power. The mage who produced the knife? He--or she--may have been looking for a garou who had not changed yet. Or, another possibility is that the mage was seeking a human sacrifice, which could also provide energy to power a ritual or other magicks." He pauses before stating emphatically, "This warper has very likely fallen. Nephandus. Unadulterated evil." Judging by his tone, he clearly disapproves of a mage going this route; however, the outright rage often expressed by garou is not mirrored in his manners nor expressions.
Elliot looks to Mouse as well, brows climbing, but then Nick's words cause a deep frown to cross his features. It's clear what he thinks about all of that without having to voice any of it, and he just exhales a sigh. "Okay. So. We will need to get with KL and find out where she was attacked, then. Well. One of us can find out where she was attacked, and let you know."
Mouse shakes her head very very slightly at Nick's glance, and waits until Elliot has spoken before she says anything. "I can do it, but KL and I are, ah, like oil and water. I'm not sure if my asking would be any help."
"Location /and/ time. The closer to the actual hour or so, the better," Nick clarifies for Elliot. "I'd prefer to stay off of KL's radar. And, ultimately, I'd like to take possession of the knife for future study. Plus, I can use it if Spirals discover my residence again."
"I'll talk to KL," Elliot confirms, looking between the pair of them briefly. The mention of Nick taking the knife back causes another moment of hesitation, long enough that it's obvious what he's weighing, and he finally says, "Fine. I'll see about getting it for you." The look he gives Nick is direct and doesn't need words: I'm trusting you about this, don't make me regret it.
Mouse exhales again--it's slower, more of a soundless whistle than anything. "Okay," she says to Elliot. "You should also know I have plans to...fix this, soon. If I can." She gestures toward herself. "But it's going to mean I'll be significantly out of town, and I don't know for how long. I'll let you and Jacinta know when, and things'll be as in order as they can be before I go."
Nicodemus doesn't miss nor ignore Elliot's look. "I realize the knife is the equivalent of a loaded gun to you. The thing about loaded guns? You only give them to people you trust won't misuse them. So, yes, I appreciate that you're placing that level of trust in me. Same as how I placed a pair of fetishes in the garou's hands before, rather than keeping them, knowing full well they could easily misuse them." He looks to Mouse. "Homeland?" One word seems to cover his whole question.
Elliot gives gives a wry grin to Nick to suggest he hit the nail on the head, and then turns a look to Mouse. There's a pause, but he nods. "Alright. Just let me know who'll be heading up the Walkers while you're out." Nick's question doesn't seem to go over his head, and he looks back to Mouse as well.
"Salem," Mouse replies, without any hesitation. "Whether he likes it or not. But it'll probably be a few weeks out at best." The question from Nick, however, sparks another shake of her head. "I've got a few ideas on approach. We'll see."
Nicodemus mirrors Elliot's wry grin, then shifts his attention to Mouse. He nods, approvingly, of her choice for 'Substitute Elder.'
"Alright," the Fianna says, not seeming terribly surprised. "Just let me know if you need anything from me. I can't leave here, obviously, but I'll help if I can."
Mouse gives Elliot a single nod, but that's all.
"And, obviously, likewise," Nick says to Mouse. "Oh!" he adds. "I finished your inversion table this morning. That might help your back a bit in the short term."
Elliot looks between them both, and then says, "Well. I'll let you two chat. I should be getting back home." A pause, and he adds, "I'll see you both around. Take care've yourselves."
Nicodemus lifts a black-gloved hand in farewell to the sept Alpha. "Thanks for being reasonable and rational about this. I believe I gave you my card earlier? Throw me an e-mail and we can has out a few other minor things I talked about with Jacinta. Or, hell, just chat with her now that everyone is up to speed."
Mouse nods again to Elliot, offering him a small wave of her own before her attention shifts more to Nicodemus. "Yeah? That...yeah, it probably will." If anything, she sounds a tiny bit sheepish.
"Yeah, I will, and I have it." The ragabash offers a grin, and then he heads out back toward the jeep. "And Mouse, I want to talk with you before you leave." That's called back over his shoulder, but then he's headin' out.
Nicodemus says to Mouse, "You looked a little squirrely there a couple times. Did I push back too hard on him?"
Mouse winces a little, one eye more than the other, at Elliot's call. "No, not you," she says to Nick. "But I was wondering just when you took a look at the knife. We talked to Jacinta just last night."
"A little over a week ago," Nick replies. "Val invited me over for a movie night. Charlene showed up with the knife and gave it to Val to look over. She handed it to me after I cautioned her about accidentally nicking herself while handling it, so I took a brief look at it." He cocks his head. "I sent you an e-mail about it, I think? I'm sure you're swamped with e-mails, though."
"Yeah," Mouse says, and her voice has gone flat again. "That's what I thought." She waits until she's certain Elliot's out of earshot, and then says, "Wasn't she right fucking there when I said it'd be better for you to wait until after you spoke with Jacinta? I /know/ she heard me. I know what you were thinking, what the hell was /she/ thinking?"
Nicodemus says, "I was thinking that, hey, it was practically in my lap and I might as well take a look at it then rather than find some kind of pretense to go look at it in some other context when it might have others around and watching. And that they ought to be a hell of a lot more careful about handling the thing than they were being. And that, when I e-mailed you and Val later what I'd found, that I'd send you an apology for looking at it when I did even though you said not to." He pauses, "I'm sorry I didn't follow orders." He sounds sincere about that, too. "I was not going to be seeking it out, but the damn thing pretty much got literally handed to me."
"It's not you," Mouse says, sharp enough that it's almost, but not quite a snap. Whatever temper might be there, however, gets reigned back in, and she shakes her head just a little. "It's not like you're a soldier. You don't have to follow my directions. But Jesus Christ, Nick, /Val/ should have known better. She could have..." the Walker inhales, exhales, and this time the head shake is more vigorous. "That was stupid and thoughtless of her, that's all. She could have put you in danger."
Nicodemus tries to lighten the mood a little. "I know I'm no soldier, but when a big, scary werewolf says 'Don't do X,' it's /generally/ a good idea to not do X." Of Val, he says, "She meant well, I'm sure. Or forgot. She's got eighty-three pokers in the fire at any given moment these days."
Mouse pauses, and then squints at Nick. "...Big scary werewolf?" Possibly his attempt worked, as there's no sign of temper or distress in either her voice or her expression.
Nicodemus raises his hand as far as it goes above his under-six-feet-tall frame. "Big scary werewolf," he repeats. "It's all about the perspective."
"You really need to see me next to other crinos," Mouse remarks. "...though on second thought, you probably don't need that at all. So...this knife. Since we're on the subject. What exactly /did/ it do to KL?"
"Slightly less big and scary werewolf?" Nick shrugs at the semantics. "I've seen Salem in his warform befo...." Oh, there was a thought. He moves on. "I haven't seen KL to examine her, but it sounds like it caused her to revert to her breed form. Detached her from her spiritual nature, or at least supressed it enough that she couldn't shift." Nick explains, "Whoever crafted that item knew a lot about Spirit and Life magick. I'm 'eh' at the former and 'sucky' at the latter, so I'm outclassed by whoever made the knife."
Mouse frowns at this explanation, one eye still a little more narrowed than the other. "You said that if the crafter knew what he was doing, he could sever the spirit? Wouldn't that...I would think that'd kill a Garou. I would almost hope that'd kill a Garou."
Nicodemus regards you for a moment before responding. "Maybe. But Mouse? A warper that's powerful enough could theoretically /make/ a garou. Separating a garou from their spirit, or the part of their spirit that makes them garou? It'd be far, far easier to turn a garou into a human."
"Yes, but--" Mouse hesitates for only half a moment before plowing onward, "I'm /not/ human. Garou are more than just shapeshifters, they're--I've said it before. We're both. We're spirit and flesh. If you somehow managed to separate those two parts and leave the Garou still alive, it'd be..."
"Spirit and Flesh can't be separated," Nick says, then pauses in order to make the upcoming contrast more obvious. "Just like gravity can't be dialed down, turned off, or reversed," the mage states, clearly alluding to earlier that week in the Harbor Park glade. "That'd be altering the very fabric of reality."
Mouse's lips tighten. "...Look, I'm just saying this isn't like a silver knife," she says, after a moment. "You can't rely on it. If this thing trapped KL in homid or worse, then what it does to a metis--of which quite a number of Dancers are--isn't going to be pretty /or/ necessarily life saving."
Nicodemus clasps his hands together over his abdomen. "If I had to make a guess? Stuck in the war form with no rage. Possibly no gifts or rites, too. It's possible it might force shifters into a human form, even if that's not their breed form." He lifts his shoulder in a gentle shrug. "I'd have to get my hands on it and study it for a while to assess what it can and can not do." He motions towards his car. "C'mon. It's getting late. Let me get you back to the city. I don't know about you, but these last two nights? The stress has really gotten to me."
"Yeah," Mouse agrees, to the mention of stress. She does look rather abruptly tired. "Let's just make sure which one it is before you have to use it. And definitely let's make sure I don't get near it." She turns to shuffle along beside him. "I have absolutely no desire to find out what it feels like to suddenly not be me."
Nicodemus pffts dismissively as he heads for the car and uses a keyfob to remotely unlock and start the vehicle. "I don't like knives. It'll likely spend its life mounted on a wall near my bed--just in case I get a midnight visitor that isn't the sandman."
Edgewood House: Meadow(#1390RJh)
A long, hard-packed dirt road winds almost a mile through the forest off Sunrise Road, eventually opening out into a small front yard, and coming to a stop in front of a large house, which may be the very definition of ramshackle. The house is not visible from the road, nor can one hear anything but perhaps a gunshot. Its foundation and general structure are solid, but its once crisp grey-and-white paint needs updating, and some of the trim is having trouble staying attached. A fixer upper, one might say. Off to the left, there's a former garage, long since converted into something of an in-law apartment. A connecting flyover attaches it to the second floor of the house.
There are no fences surrounding either the front or back yards. In the rear of the property, the yard (larger than in the front) eventually comes up against a well built garden, with the very beginnings of sprouts. Shaded and obscured by surrounding trees, there is a small (but deep) natural pond, with a chuckling brook leading out of it, into the woods. There's a rope swing hanging from one of the trees. The yard to the southeast of the property stretches on for a time, and then is eaten by woods, into which there may or may not be a path; it apparently fades away quickly. There's a certain looming feel to these woods.
Obvious exits:
Narrow Path Sunrise Road Front Door Barn/Garage
Mouse received two texts. One said 'We need to talk.' and the next said, 'Edgewood. 2 hours.' And then, radio silence! It's nearly exactly two hours on the nose that the jeep heads up the road to Edgewood. There's nothing rushed about the driving, at least.
Nick drives Mouse out to the farmhouse, parking the car in the driveway, and escorts her halfway across the meadow for her meet with Elliot, affording the two garou some level of privacy.
Mouse's remaining lone walk is stiff and dragging, as seems to be her natural movement these days. She's there on time, at least, and while she might be read as a little wary, there's nothing openly hostile or surprised about her demeanor.
The jeep parks, and the occupant takes his time about getting out of the car. The door finally shuts, but he doesn't bother locking it. The Fianna looks over at Mouse; there's no denying there's a strong sense of disappointment and a sharp sense of anger, though it's a cold-burning sort. "You have something to explain to me?"
Mouse crosses her arms over her chest and frowns faintly. "I'm going to assume someone's already told you about my kinfolk. Not Jacinta? She knew I was coming to see you."
Nicodemus lingers nervously off to one side and out of the way as the two tribal elders conduct business. His fingers alternately flex and clench.
"Yes." The word is short, but not openly hostile. Elliot stops a few feet away, thumbs hooked in his belt loops; a glance is given over toward Nicodemus, but apparently there's more important things to focus on, as his attention returns to Mouse. "You want to start explaining why I had to hear it from someone -else-?"
"I don't know," Mouse says, sounding a little flat. "Because we--the both of us--just met with Jacinta last night, and were coming to tell you as soon as I could get a hold of you." She inhales, and the flatness bleeds from her tone. "But as to why you haven't heard this before now; I was protecting my family. That's all I can say to explain, Elliot. I know it's not enough."
"I should have been told before Jacinta," he says, equally flat, but he just eyes her. "I get that. But you heard me, you /listened/ to me tell everyone else that any and -all- of those who aren't us--" He trails off, getting a grip on a momentary flash of anger, and then he advances on her, voice raising as he positively bleeds every ounce of rank and his position. "That isn't just to keep them from hurting us, that's to keep those who might be friendly to us to keep from being -fucking butchered- by some blood-happy Get or some other crap. I would hope you'd get by now that if I'm open to a goddamned tiger and fox being around, I wouldn't exactly be--" He lifts a hand, gesturing in the air, and then just shoves that hand through his hair. Breathe in, breathe out, and then rage is calmed and his next words are level: "Who is it."
Nicodemus coughs politely, hands now clasp before him. Subtle.
Mouse weathers the Rage, but she's not unaffected. Her stance changes--her arms tighten against her chest, her shoulders lower, and her gaze goes noticeably downward. If she were in a form to show it, her ears would be noticeably slicked back. "Yes," she agrees. "You should have. Nothing about this has gone the way we were planning to bring it to you. Since you made that announcement, I've been trying to work out a way to let you know that one was around. I wanted to be careful. You've dealt with mages before; I wanted to see how you felt regarding them. And I felt it was important not to break his trust--I felt it wasn't my secret to share." She inhales rather sharply, and finally lifts her eyes again--though not all the way to his. "None of which excuses me. I'm sorry." She lets those words settle for a moment, before jerking her chin in Nicodemus's direction, a silent answer to the question.
Watching Mouse, the Fianna ragabash calms considerably, and he just watches her for a moment, form easing. There's nothing directly said, but he follows her gaze over to Nicodemus. There's a hint of something - surprise, maybe - but he turns his attention toward the man. In the same gesture, a hand is set on Mouse's shoulder, the squeeze brief, a silent sort of acceptance of her apology, and then he addresses Nick directly. "I've heard you've been here for awhile. And that you've been helping us on the sidelines for awhile. That right?"
There was building tension in the mage, but it lessens considerably once Elliot places a hand on Mouse's shoulder in a gesture of friendship. He unclasps his gloved hands. "From the shadows, yes. The garou here have, in the past, killed at least one of my kind who was an open ally to them," he explains. "So, yes, I have naturally been quite cautious about dealing with your kind, and I prefer anonymity." He motions with his head towards Mouse. "Everything she's said is true. She'd encouraged me to come forward to you and Jacinta some months ago. I've been hesitant to do so, but we were moving in that direction. Had it not been for Mouse's efforts," the world-bender admits, "I would not be here speaking with you, and I would never have met with Jacinta last night." He assures you, "We were going to speak with you, but I wanted to wait until the moon was slimmer--and Jacinta agreed that was acceptable."
Mouse flicks a startled glance toward Elliot at the touch and squeeze before she can catch herself--she looks, for a moment, genuinely surprised--and her demeanor seems to settle and relax as well. As Nick speaks, she remains quiet, not interrupting.
"This doesn't mean I'm not still pissed off," Elliot asides back to Mouse, but it's not nearly as hot as it was, and then he returns his attention to Nick. He listens wtihout interruption, and then gives a nod to the last. "I have some experience with yours, too. Sucking the gnosis out've one of our glades in LA. It was my adren challenge to get deal with 'em." That's frank, almost conversational. "They aren't dead. Or hurt. We came to an understanding. You get me? The world's fucked enough without those of us who are -- mostly -- on the same side to be killing each other off." That said, he approaches Nick, offering a hand out; an open offer for a handshake, brows tipped up. "If you're on our side, I don't have a problem with you. As long as you understand how important those places are to us. And don't -- turn me or one've mine into a frog or something." Wouldn't be a ragabash without a wry attempt at levity.
Nicodemus seems a little hesitant to approach the sept Alpha initially, then what remained of the built-up tension seems to be released from him. He steps forward to formally re-greet the Fianna and shake his hand. "I prefer newts over frogs," he claims, though it seems tongue in cheek. He seems to have a sense of humor as well. "We've met before, but.... Nick Dalton. Kin to the Glass Walkers," he says first. Next comes, "World-bender." He assures you, "And I understand the importance of places of power. I also protect them, and I had some small measure of influence in assisting the garou in reclaiming the caern here." No small claims indeed. His handshake is not crushing, but it is surprisingly forceful for someone lacking much in the way of muscles or mass.
Mouse's only response is a mild nod, but there's no return of any tension to her. Overall, she seems relieved, if anything.
Elliot's handshake is firm, without pretense, and brief. The humor draws a thin smile out of the ragabash, and he takes a step back, not remaining in the kin-mage's space for long. He's not overly wary, posture relaxed. "So I'm guessing you have cleared yourself with Jacinta, or else you probably wouldn't be here, so I'm not going to repeat what she's probably told you. I'll only add: let me know if people give you shit. I'm not going to blow your cover because there are some here that will not take it that well. And," he adds, turning a bit of an exasperated look back to Mouse, "I trust Mouse's judgment, so if she's willing to vouch for you, I'm fine with you being around places like this and as you were."
"Very willing," Mouse confirms. "Jacinta did tell us that she can't keep a secret from her pack. I'm not sure if you and she would be willing to speak to her pack members regarding the importance of discretion or not; but either way, he obviously also has the full protection of my tribe."
"I think my cover is pretty much blown, as Jacinta said she had to tell her pack about me. It's going to leak out," Nick states with conviction, essentially echoing what Mouse said. "It's only a matter of time. I suspect someone will, at some point, attempt something. I'm very much a live-and-let-live kind of guy, but I /will/ defend myself."
There's a bit of a frown at Mouse's words, a furrowing of the brow, and then a consideration of Nick's words. "As anyone would," he says, frankly. "I can talk to them. I just don't think an announcement would go over well, because you're always going to have someone with more rage than sense." He looks thoughtful, though. "How many people know, right now?"
Mouse exhales softly as she considers that question. "Other than me, one...three, discounting Jacinta."
Nicodemus adds to that, "And whoever got wind of the meeting last night and told you."
Elliot looks aside to Nick at the addition and considers that number, something of a wry smile forming at some inward thought. He does not, however, say whatever came to mind. "Are you the only one in town?" he asks, this one more directly angled at Nick. "I know your people sometimes work in groups."
Mouse looks toward Nicodemus. Her hands move now, from the reflexively defensive motion across her chest to the much more relaxed--at least outwardly--position of her coat pockets.
"I used to be," Nick says after a moment's hesitation. "And before you ask me," he says, perhaps heading the next question off at the pass, "ask yourself if you would give me the names and contact information and numbers of all the garou at this sept. I will say this, though. The ones I know of mean the garou absolutely no harm unless threatened. And, in a pinch, I can likely get them to pull together with me in defense of the caern--or as a defense against a warper who's hostile to the garou or the caern."
"I wasn't going to ask," Elliot replies, though he's considering Nick a little. "And I won't. But, two things: you may be asked to act as a --bridge, of sorts, if it's needed, between us and them. And," he adds, "I can't guarantee their protection if they're found out and I don't know them. That's not a threat, that's not me trying to pressure names out've you. I'm just saying: if they want to come out to me, to Mouse, to Jacinta, I'm willing to hear 'em out."
A flicker of definite surprise crosses Mouse's face as Nick speaks, but it's gone quickly.
Nicodemus contemplates the Fianna elder's words for a moment before he responds. "I can act as a bridge between the two groups, sure. I will, however, caution them about coming forward anytime soon until we see if--and how fast--my name gets passed around. Jacinta was quite adamant about not holding information back from her pack or anyone who directly asked her." The mage adds, "That's not a request for you to put a leash on Jacinta, either. That's just me not wanting to unnecessarily endanger others." To illustrate the point, he provides an example. "It only takes one garou--like that Red Talon who was killing whole families in the city last year--to decide the only good warper is a dead warper. And all they need is a tracking rite or gift and a name."
Elliot features darken a tad at the reminder of the Red Talon, but he only nods once. "Yeah, I get you. And I do understand." A pause for thought, and he adds, "The younger ones, really, are the ones that I'd be the most concerned about, because they're the ones trying the hardest to prove themselves. But there's a handful of us that, I think, will be willing to at least come to an understanding."
"A handful?" Nick says with a hint of disbelief, or perhaps disappointment. He then acquiesces, "Most of yours do seem young. Youth, power, fanaticism, and a chip on the shoulder tend to be a terrible combination." He inquires, "Out of curiosity, when you dealt with those other mages during your adren challenge, what was it that they did? And did they use any magic in defending themselves or mention what Tradition they were affiiated with?"
"That's a story and a half," Elliot says, reaching a hand back to rub the back of his neck, a touch ruefully. "They were draining one of our glades, and had a fetish of ours. They wanted me to get it back and get them to knock it off one way or another. Long story short, the 'knock it off' part was easy, but I had to trail them halfway across the country to get the fetish back. The leader was --oh, I always forget. Hermit? Herm-- something? I don't know about the others." Shows how much mage knowledge he has. "And yes. They did. Magic, that is. They never tried to kill us, though, and when we caught up with them we returned the favor."
Mouse regards Elliot with a thoughtful look, measuring, then looks back to Nick.
"Hermetic," Nick says, filling in the missing syllables. "You were.... Lucky. And considerate. But that does bring up another issue I'd like to address." He clears his throat and continues. "In the past, I've returned fetishes to the garou here. It seems only fair that, should the garou here come into possession of a talisman--sort of a fetish for mages--that it be surrendered, through channels, back to me."
Elliot looks at Nick for a minute at that request, then back to Mouse. There's a moment of quiet thought. "There is something I've been made aware of. A knife. Mouse, do you know about that?"
"Yeah," Mouse says grimly. "Nick's aware of it too. I haven't had any chance to look at it, but I've heard about what it can do."
Nicodemus admits openly, "I've already had my hands on it. I could have taken it if I'd wanted to. But instead, I told Val what I knew about it from a brief examination so that the information could be used...." He trails off, then looks to Elliot. "The resonance on that knife? Whoever made it made it specifically to hurt shifters. However, it would be useful against Spirals, not just Gaian Garou. The effects of the knife are not permanent. If the warper who had created it had just a little more talent, the knife could have clearly separated a garou's spirit permanently from its body. KL got lucky."
"It could be used for spirals," Elliot agrees, "But I don't want someone playing with it and nicking themselves and ending up stuck in homid." The concept of the spirit being separated causes a deep frown, and he then looks at Nick. "Is there any way to track who made it?"
This time, Mouse gives Nick a rather sharp look, though she says nothing.
"It is possible, though likely beyond my own abilities. I won't know unless I'm given the knife to look over." Nick does offer a little hope. "What I could likely do? If I have the knife, and I know where and when KL killed the person who stabbed her, I could probably tell if the deceased was the world-bender that created this artifact. If he's dead? Case closed. If it was a minion? Then there's a hostile mage out there arming those who would do harm to you and yours."
Elliot considers - it takes him a minute of mulling things over, and his expression is frankly a little difficult to read. "That could be useful," he says after a moment with a bit of a nod. "And, yes, important information. Especially considering from what I heard whoever it was was going after kids."
There's something faint in Mouse's otherwise neutral expression that speaks to some spark of...anger? Unhappiness? There's something that's bothering her, in any case, though she hides it well. She remains quiet.
Nicodemus looks sidelong towards Mouse, as if assessing whether he's doing something to upset her. "You mentioned earlier that those mages you interacted with for your adren challenge had been damaging a glade. Glades are not the only source of power. The mage who produced the knife? He--or she--may have been looking for a garou who had not changed yet. Or, another possibility is that the mage was seeking a human sacrifice, which could also provide energy to power a ritual or other magicks." He pauses before stating emphatically, "This warper has very likely fallen. Nephandus. Unadulterated evil." Judging by his tone, he clearly disapproves of a mage going this route; however, the outright rage often expressed by garou is not mirrored in his manners nor expressions.
Elliot looks to Mouse as well, brows climbing, but then Nick's words cause a deep frown to cross his features. It's clear what he thinks about all of that without having to voice any of it, and he just exhales a sigh. "Okay. So. We will need to get with KL and find out where she was attacked, then. Well. One of us can find out where she was attacked, and let you know."
Mouse shakes her head very very slightly at Nick's glance, and waits until Elliot has spoken before she says anything. "I can do it, but KL and I are, ah, like oil and water. I'm not sure if my asking would be any help."
"Location /and/ time. The closer to the actual hour or so, the better," Nick clarifies for Elliot. "I'd prefer to stay off of KL's radar. And, ultimately, I'd like to take possession of the knife for future study. Plus, I can use it if Spirals discover my residence again."
"I'll talk to KL," Elliot confirms, looking between the pair of them briefly. The mention of Nick taking the knife back causes another moment of hesitation, long enough that it's obvious what he's weighing, and he finally says, "Fine. I'll see about getting it for you." The look he gives Nick is direct and doesn't need words: I'm trusting you about this, don't make me regret it.
Mouse exhales again--it's slower, more of a soundless whistle than anything. "Okay," she says to Elliot. "You should also know I have plans to...fix this, soon. If I can." She gestures toward herself. "But it's going to mean I'll be significantly out of town, and I don't know for how long. I'll let you and Jacinta know when, and things'll be as in order as they can be before I go."
Nicodemus doesn't miss nor ignore Elliot's look. "I realize the knife is the equivalent of a loaded gun to you. The thing about loaded guns? You only give them to people you trust won't misuse them. So, yes, I appreciate that you're placing that level of trust in me. Same as how I placed a pair of fetishes in the garou's hands before, rather than keeping them, knowing full well they could easily misuse them." He looks to Mouse. "Homeland?" One word seems to cover his whole question.
Elliot gives gives a wry grin to Nick to suggest he hit the nail on the head, and then turns a look to Mouse. There's a pause, but he nods. "Alright. Just let me know who'll be heading up the Walkers while you're out." Nick's question doesn't seem to go over his head, and he looks back to Mouse as well.
"Salem," Mouse replies, without any hesitation. "Whether he likes it or not. But it'll probably be a few weeks out at best." The question from Nick, however, sparks another shake of her head. "I've got a few ideas on approach. We'll see."
Nicodemus mirrors Elliot's wry grin, then shifts his attention to Mouse. He nods, approvingly, of her choice for 'Substitute Elder.'
"Alright," the Fianna says, not seeming terribly surprised. "Just let me know if you need anything from me. I can't leave here, obviously, but I'll help if I can."
Mouse gives Elliot a single nod, but that's all.
"And, obviously, likewise," Nick says to Mouse. "Oh!" he adds. "I finished your inversion table this morning. That might help your back a bit in the short term."
Elliot looks between them both, and then says, "Well. I'll let you two chat. I should be getting back home." A pause, and he adds, "I'll see you both around. Take care've yourselves."
Nicodemus lifts a black-gloved hand in farewell to the sept Alpha. "Thanks for being reasonable and rational about this. I believe I gave you my card earlier? Throw me an e-mail and we can has out a few other minor things I talked about with Jacinta. Or, hell, just chat with her now that everyone is up to speed."
Mouse nods again to Elliot, offering him a small wave of her own before her attention shifts more to Nicodemus. "Yeah? That...yeah, it probably will." If anything, she sounds a tiny bit sheepish.
"Yeah, I will, and I have it." The ragabash offers a grin, and then he heads out back toward the jeep. "And Mouse, I want to talk with you before you leave." That's called back over his shoulder, but then he's headin' out.
Nicodemus says to Mouse, "You looked a little squirrely there a couple times. Did I push back too hard on him?"
Mouse winces a little, one eye more than the other, at Elliot's call. "No, not you," she says to Nick. "But I was wondering just when you took a look at the knife. We talked to Jacinta just last night."
"A little over a week ago," Nick replies. "Val invited me over for a movie night. Charlene showed up with the knife and gave it to Val to look over. She handed it to me after I cautioned her about accidentally nicking herself while handling it, so I took a brief look at it." He cocks his head. "I sent you an e-mail about it, I think? I'm sure you're swamped with e-mails, though."
"Yeah," Mouse says, and her voice has gone flat again. "That's what I thought." She waits until she's certain Elliot's out of earshot, and then says, "Wasn't she right fucking there when I said it'd be better for you to wait until after you spoke with Jacinta? I /know/ she heard me. I know what you were thinking, what the hell was /she/ thinking?"
Nicodemus says, "I was thinking that, hey, it was practically in my lap and I might as well take a look at it then rather than find some kind of pretense to go look at it in some other context when it might have others around and watching. And that they ought to be a hell of a lot more careful about handling the thing than they were being. And that, when I e-mailed you and Val later what I'd found, that I'd send you an apology for looking at it when I did even though you said not to." He pauses, "I'm sorry I didn't follow orders." He sounds sincere about that, too. "I was not going to be seeking it out, but the damn thing pretty much got literally handed to me."
"It's not you," Mouse says, sharp enough that it's almost, but not quite a snap. Whatever temper might be there, however, gets reigned back in, and she shakes her head just a little. "It's not like you're a soldier. You don't have to follow my directions. But Jesus Christ, Nick, /Val/ should have known better. She could have..." the Walker inhales, exhales, and this time the head shake is more vigorous. "That was stupid and thoughtless of her, that's all. She could have put you in danger."
Nicodemus tries to lighten the mood a little. "I know I'm no soldier, but when a big, scary werewolf says 'Don't do X,' it's /generally/ a good idea to not do X." Of Val, he says, "She meant well, I'm sure. Or forgot. She's got eighty-three pokers in the fire at any given moment these days."
Mouse pauses, and then squints at Nick. "...Big scary werewolf?" Possibly his attempt worked, as there's no sign of temper or distress in either her voice or her expression.
Nicodemus raises his hand as far as it goes above his under-six-feet-tall frame. "Big scary werewolf," he repeats. "It's all about the perspective."
"You really need to see me next to other crinos," Mouse remarks. "...though on second thought, you probably don't need that at all. So...this knife. Since we're on the subject. What exactly /did/ it do to KL?"
"Slightly less big and scary werewolf?" Nick shrugs at the semantics. "I've seen Salem in his warform befo...." Oh, there was a thought. He moves on. "I haven't seen KL to examine her, but it sounds like it caused her to revert to her breed form. Detached her from her spiritual nature, or at least supressed it enough that she couldn't shift." Nick explains, "Whoever crafted that item knew a lot about Spirit and Life magick. I'm 'eh' at the former and 'sucky' at the latter, so I'm outclassed by whoever made the knife."
Mouse frowns at this explanation, one eye still a little more narrowed than the other. "You said that if the crafter knew what he was doing, he could sever the spirit? Wouldn't that...I would think that'd kill a Garou. I would almost hope that'd kill a Garou."
Nicodemus regards you for a moment before responding. "Maybe. But Mouse? A warper that's powerful enough could theoretically /make/ a garou. Separating a garou from their spirit, or the part of their spirit that makes them garou? It'd be far, far easier to turn a garou into a human."
"Yes, but--" Mouse hesitates for only half a moment before plowing onward, "I'm /not/ human. Garou are more than just shapeshifters, they're--I've said it before. We're both. We're spirit and flesh. If you somehow managed to separate those two parts and leave the Garou still alive, it'd be..."
"Spirit and Flesh can't be separated," Nick says, then pauses in order to make the upcoming contrast more obvious. "Just like gravity can't be dialed down, turned off, or reversed," the mage states, clearly alluding to earlier that week in the Harbor Park glade. "That'd be altering the very fabric of reality."
Mouse's lips tighten. "...Look, I'm just saying this isn't like a silver knife," she says, after a moment. "You can't rely on it. If this thing trapped KL in homid or worse, then what it does to a metis--of which quite a number of Dancers are--isn't going to be pretty /or/ necessarily life saving."
Nicodemus clasps his hands together over his abdomen. "If I had to make a guess? Stuck in the war form with no rage. Possibly no gifts or rites, too. It's possible it might force shifters into a human form, even if that's not their breed form." He lifts his shoulder in a gentle shrug. "I'd have to get my hands on it and study it for a while to assess what it can and can not do." He motions towards his car. "C'mon. It's getting late. Let me get you back to the city. I don't know about you, but these last two nights? The stress has really gotten to me."
"Yeah," Mouse agrees, to the mention of stress. She does look rather abruptly tired. "Let's just make sure which one it is before you have to use it. And definitely let's make sure I don't get near it." She turns to shuffle along beside him. "I have absolutely no desire to find out what it feels like to suddenly not be me."
Nicodemus pffts dismissively as he heads for the car and uses a keyfob to remotely unlock and start the vehicle. "I don't like knives. It'll likely spend its life mounted on a wall near my bed--just in case I get a midnight visitor that isn't the sandman."
