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renferretNick swings by to inform Mouse that he's off to Wisconsin for two weeks. With Emma. An elephant saunters into the room and is promptly shot and shoved under the rug.
Tenement Building - Cockroach's Breakroom(#3365RJ)
Here, a large studio apartment has been converted into a mutual meeting space for the tribe, one with its own kitchen and bathroom. The walls are a simple, plain white, and the floor is covered in stain-resistant beige carpet. The windows look out onto the somewhat less than scenic view of downtown St. Claire, but more often than not, white blinds prevent anyone from peeking in, or out.
Amenities are what might be expected--a well stocked refrigerator and cupboards, a microwave, a coffee maker, a toaster. There's a wooden table that seats four, five or six if people scrunch, and enough chairs to service it. There's also an old couch and armchair along the walls, angled to face a large, plasma screen television. Most of the entertainment goodies are here. An old NES system, an original Sega system, and an XBOX 360, each with assorted games. There's also a DVD/VCR combo player, and nearby a box of movies, most of them Ed Wood and Roger Corman specials. Ah, classics.
Along one wall is a row of tables and chairs, on which sit five desktop computers as well as the Walker's network server, a printer, and a scanner. (+view for more details)
Contents:
Memorial(#1008Ch)
Information Board: Skindiggers Cult
Obvious exits:
Out
The Breakroom smells of fresh coffee, and the culprit is easy enough to spot. Mouse is seated in her power chair at the table, her laptop open in front of her, and a steaming mug halfway to her lips. Something on the screen seems to have distracted her from the actual act of drinking it, though.
Nicodemus exits from the elevator accompanied by a *Ding!* announcing someone's arrival on the 5th floor. Possibly lured by the smell of coffee, Nick rounds the corner of the breakroom, spies Mouse (and no sign of combat in the room), and enters. "Hey. There any surplus coffee in the pot?" He crosses the room, as if intent on getting some.
"Plenty," Mouse replies, lowering her own mug and using it to point toward a pot that is still mostly full. "How're things?"
Nicodemus pulls a mug out at random. It has a white unicorn farting a colorful rainbow out its ass. He fills it with coffee and adds a pack of sugar as he speaks. "Good. Interesting. Different." He says each word with a pause between them, which gives him time to head over in your direction so he can speak a little quieter as he settles onto a chair nearby you. "I think I'm going to be out of town for, oh, about two weeks. Wisconsin. Going to be helping Emma out on her adren challenge. Nothing dangerous. Just interacting with humans who might not talk with her, using my PI skills and whatnot to look up information, if that's needed. She thinks she'll have better luck getting people enlisting to help her out if she can refine what's an ambiguous challenge into a much more 'go here, do X' sort of thing."
"Emma?" Mouse echoes, curious, and perhaps a little amused. "You're going to be spending two weeks halfway across the country with a Get of Fenris Ahroun?" She finally takes a sip from her own mug. "Challenges have a way of becoming dangerous. Be careful."
"Two weeks with little to no moon in the sky, and she seems to have a good handle on her rage, so...." Nick hesitates, then shrugs. "I plan to stay out of the way of whatever she's getting into. I doubt she'd let me even if I asked to be, but I'm not going to ask. I have zero desire to rub shoulders with a bunch of strange Get. Out of curiosity, though. I might need an excuse to split off from Emma for a couple days. Do you know of any Glass Walkers near? Even kin would be fine. I don't plan on dropping in on them, but it'd be nice to have someone in the area I could call if the shit hit the fan. Or if I need an excuse to duck out on Emma and do a side project that she doesn't need to know about."
"I could drum up some names, I bet," Mouse says. "No one I'd know personally, or likely anyone who knows anyone I know personally, but that's the beauty of the internet. I could also come, if you wanted. Things are disturbingly quiet around here, just now, and I have a toy that might help if Emma's trying to convince humans."
Nicodemus blinks in surprise. "Really? You'd lend her a hand on this? You have her number? We're leaving tomorrow morning." He glances out the breakroom door towards the apartments. "Shit. Val's out of town. Think Riley would take care of my cat while I'm gone? Or maybe Clarice?"
"Val, yes, Clarice, bad idea," Mouse replies, and she looks, if anything, rather happy. "Sure, if it's allowed. She's...okay. Salem trusts her, you trust her. And I'm aching to do something moderately active. If you want, you can drive the batmobile. It's not exactly incognito, but it's roomy, air conditioned, and relatively bullet proof."
Nicodemus oooohs. "Oh, that's very, very tempting. But maybe some other time? I think Emma was just planning on borrowing her dad's F-150. If we've more people, I'll offer my Porsche. More than that, my Winnebago. I think the batmobile is, perhaps, a little too memorable. And you just /know/ people are going to eat and drink in it and mess it up." His phone chirps once and he pulls it out to look it over. "If we take anything other than the F-150, Emma can get a rental once she's there. Or we can buy a cheap beater with cash via a fake company I set up, then sell it to recoup the money if it survives the challenge." He starts reading something on his phone.
Mouse's mouth quirks up on one side. "Up to you guys, I'm just offering it. In any case, you remember Riot. Did you ever notice the fetish she had? Butterfly pendant she liked flashing around everywhere."
Judging by the look of minor distate that manages to flash across his face at the mention of her name, Nick knew Riot. "Grade-A, power-tripping asshole, that one. I don't miss her one iota. I'm sorry she died, but I don't miss her one bit." He shakes his head negatively. "I was very under the radar at the time. All she did was give me shit if she saw me around Harbor Park. What does this butterfly pendant do?"
"Yes," Mouse agrees, to the first point at least. "It makes you more persuasive with humans. Riot gave it to me as part of a contrition, years back. I can bring it along, in case we need an edge."
"That'd be.... Son of a bitch," Nick mutters as he looks back his phone. "I'd emailed Val yesterday. Looks like the email--or her autoresponse--got caught in temporary limbo. It says she'll be without access for a few days, but will have internet access back on July 29." He turns his phone so you can read the automated response e-mail. "Last Monday." He grimaces. "What are the odds that she's just lost or forgot about that autoresponder? And that number she's left isn't her usual number. I'm guessing a disposable phone."
Mouse turns a frown on Nick's phone. "Do you think she's in trouble, or just potentially getting into it?" A beat. "Both?"
"Be right back," Nick grumbles as he gets up, goes to his room, and returns less than a minute later wielding an old Magic 8-Ball toy. He plunks down in his chair, shakes it while the '8' is facing upwards, pauses a moment, collects himself, and then talks to the plastic sphere. "Oh, Magic 8-Ball. Does Val need rescuing?" Yeah. That just happened. He then turns the toy 180 degrees, holding it reverently in both hands. The randomizer element within floats into view through the murky blue liquid. It reads: "REPLY HAZY, TRY AGAIN." Nick promptly gets up, storms over to the kitchen area, and drops the 8-ball into the trash. "Useless piece of shit," he curses on his way back to his chair.
Mouse has seen the 8-ball before, so she's, perhaps, not as weirded out as she might be otherwise. In fact, she watches Nick do his thing with blanket fascination, wincing only slightly when he gets up and tosses the toy away. "...Are you sure you aren't going to want that back in about five minutes?"
"No. I felt it. That was most likely the right answer. She might or might not. She's probably doing something risky or dangerous--or planning to--and it could go either way. The future is murky," Nick explains. "Always in motion and full of this lovely thing called 'free will'. But right now? She doesn't need rescuing. And I swear that 8-ball is jinxed. I'm just going to go buy a new one."
Mouse sighs. "Sorry, Nick. I'm afraid that tends to be what we do, more often than not. Even Corax. Can you check again in a little while?"
Nicodemus pushes his bangs out of his eyes. "It's okay. I'm a /huge/ fan of free will, even if it does complicate getting a good hold on what the future has in store. I'll check right before I head out to meet up with Emma tomorrow. And alert Riley that she ought to have a grab bag ready to go track down and rescue Val if we give her a ring in the coming week or two."
Mouse nods at this, though she still looks a little hesitant. "...Right. Okay. So, butterfly pendant? And you're not expecting trouble, so no need to break out any extra hardware, though I always go armed."
Nicodemus pushes the thing with Val into the background and refocuses on the not-yet-cancelled trip. "That sounds like it would be pretty useful, assuming Emma is going to need to get information out of humans. Saves me from having to go through the trouble and ethical quadries of pulling a Jedi mind trick, too. Nice." He says, "I'll probably bring my pistol--I only pack rubber bullets in the thing and have thankfully only needed to shoot someone once--a couple penlight tasers, and my cell phone taser. Pretty much what I've just gotten into the habit of carrying." He cants his head slightly. "You heard that Riley managed to come back from Seattle with an SMG the vampires gave her? Oh, and FYI, I checked her headspace out and didn't see any evidence of vampiric mindfuckery."
"That's a relief," Mouse says, with a slight shake of her head. She pauses in order to sip from her coffee mug again. "Do you have a vest? I think you've mentioned that you have a vest. If not, I have one."
"I do," Nick states. "And I'm bringing it. Might just loan it to Emma though, as I don't plan to be anywhere near any place where shit will be hitting the fan. And if someone decides to raid the motel or wherever it is we end up crashing? Emma can heal: I can't. So my vest then."
"I'll bring mine," Mouse offers. "That way, two of us will have one, and the one who doesn't recover from bullets in a few seconds can always have one." She gives him a brief, crooked smile at that. "Me, that happens even if I look human, so I'm fine unless someone breaks out silver. And if someone breaks out silver, I'm prrrrobably screwed regardless."
"If someone does use silver, get cover, let me know who, and I'll focus some unpleasantness in on them." Nick then adds, "I'm reasonably sure I could shield people against bullets, but not so sure as to be excited about testing it out on myself." He then adds, "But Emma doesn't know about me, so I'd probably try being subtle that she wouldn't notice--unless our backs were against the wall."
Mouse nods once. "Noted. I'll try, though usually the first time you know silver bullets are in play is after you get shot with them." She pauses for a moment, fingers curling lightly around her coffee mug. "If that /does/ happen at any point in the future, for the record, I need to get them dug out immediately. Homids can shift back to breed form--though that comes with the obvious downside of still having bullet holes in you--and lupus likewise, but metis don't have that option. So, you know...just so you know."
Nicodemus winces. "I did not know that. Digging them out?" He grimaces and thinks a moment. "I could /probably/ turn them from silver to lead faster than I could do a hack-job of field surgery. I'll make certain to get to you first, any other Glass Walkers second, non-Walker metis third, and anyone else last. But, uh, let's try not to get into any fights if at all possible."
Mouse's eyebrows lift at that. "Well, that would be /far/ preferable," she admits. "But only if you can spare the effort. This is all hypotheticals anyway. I just wanted you to know."
"I excel at hypotheticals, so long as no one is pounding on me or putting metal in me at a high velocity. If things do get hairy, I'll be trying to get behind cover first. So hold whatever it is off for a bit until I can lend a hand." Nick runs a hand through his hair. "I, uh, should prooobably also mention that, uhm.... We're kind of keeping it quiet right now, but I /might/ not always be back in my room at night. If you're looking for me. I suspect you'd likely key in on what's up on the two thousand plus mile car ride, so.... Out in the open with you."
"Wait," Mouse says, at the subject shift. "You lost me. Who is keeping what quiet?"
Nicodemus attempts to clarify. "Emma and I. We've kind of been seeing each other, quietly, so there wouldn't be any outside influences or pressures on either of us. I suspect, on a car ride from here to Wisconsin, you'd probably end up picking up on it. So.... We'd appreciate it if you kept it quiet, too."
"You..." There's a long pause, longer than usual for Mouse, and then a considerably lame. "Oh." Another beat. "I...thought you said you weren't interested in dating, let alone dating one of us." Her coffee? Pretty much forgotten on the table now.
"I'd just had a really terrible end to a serious relationship--Hell, I'd been engaged--and.... My shit was topsy turvy. And I had a lot of trouble wrapping my head around garou being human." Nick purses his lips, making his mouth a tight, thin line. His coffee has likewise been forgotten. "I guess, after spending a lot of time with her just doing normal stuff, I started seeing past the whole not-entirely-human thing. And she asked me out about six months ago. I turned her down, but it got me thinking about the whole situation again. So I ended up asking her out a couple months ago, and.... It seems to be kind of working out, y'know?"
"Yeah," Mouse says lamely. "That is, I mean. Well, I don't /know/, but I'll take your word for it." There's another beat. Two. Then she musters up a faint, crooked smile. "Glad you two are enjoying each other, then. And you're right, it does put the whole two weeks in Wisconsin thing into sharper perspective."
"Seemed a shame to waste the thinner moon," Nick explains, putting a somewhat practical spin on it. "And she might need a hand if there's any talking to people aspect that crops up. It suggested it, and she took me up on the offer, so.... I'd just swung by to pack a bag, tell you what was up, and make arrangements for LOLcat."
Mouse nods once. "She isn't going to be irritated if I come along, is she? I mean, if you two want your space." She seems to remember her coffee; her hand goes to the mug, and stays there. "I'd offer to take care of your cat too, but...Garou. He isn't going to like me at all."
Nicodemus snorts in amusement. "He's a cat. He doesn't even like me unless I've got a can of food in my hand or it's winter and the house is cold and he's looking for a warm body to lay on. He's useless, and I blame Val for dumping him on me six or seven years ago when he was an abandoned kitten." He sobers up a little, switching topics. "I don't think you'd be an imposition at all on the trip. Personally, I think Emma would be thrilled to have the level of support you could bring to bear on this. It's just that I'm not sure what the housing situation is going to be like. And there might be a couple days where I need to slip away from Emma and do my own thing. Visiting a Walker relative might end up being cover story."
"Honest!" Mouse says, and she's a little lighter toned now, that awkwardness almost, but not quite entirely gone from view. "It's our rage, animals can sense it. Mine's nothing to speak of next to, say, Salem's, but I bet your cat puffs up and hisses if I get within twenty feet of him. --Don't worry about housing. I'm more than capable of getting my own room if it's a hotel, or finding a spot out of the way. If you want me to bullshit about nearby Walker relations, I can manage that too."
Nicodemus says "It'd probably be easier to bullshit, but don't let that keep you from meeting some new contacts. I've got a call in to someone far better connected with my kind than I. Seeing if there's anyone in the area that might have a need for me or my assistance."
"Okay." Mouse is quiet for a few moments, then finally brings her--almost certainly now cold--coffee to her lips. "Then I'll be ready to go tomorrow. See you then?"
Nicodemus nods. "Sure thing. I need to get packing, too." He stands and stretches, casting a brief look over his shoulder towards the kitchen. "And I need to pick up a new 8-ball."
Tenement Building - Cockroach's Breakroom(#3365RJ)
Here, a large studio apartment has been converted into a mutual meeting space for the tribe, one with its own kitchen and bathroom. The walls are a simple, plain white, and the floor is covered in stain-resistant beige carpet. The windows look out onto the somewhat less than scenic view of downtown St. Claire, but more often than not, white blinds prevent anyone from peeking in, or out.
Amenities are what might be expected--a well stocked refrigerator and cupboards, a microwave, a coffee maker, a toaster. There's a wooden table that seats four, five or six if people scrunch, and enough chairs to service it. There's also an old couch and armchair along the walls, angled to face a large, plasma screen television. Most of the entertainment goodies are here. An old NES system, an original Sega system, and an XBOX 360, each with assorted games. There's also a DVD/VCR combo player, and nearby a box of movies, most of them Ed Wood and Roger Corman specials. Ah, classics.
Along one wall is a row of tables and chairs, on which sit five desktop computers as well as the Walker's network server, a printer, and a scanner. (+view for more details)
Contents:
Memorial(#1008Ch)
Information Board: Skindiggers Cult
Obvious exits:
Out
The Breakroom smells of fresh coffee, and the culprit is easy enough to spot. Mouse is seated in her power chair at the table, her laptop open in front of her, and a steaming mug halfway to her lips. Something on the screen seems to have distracted her from the actual act of drinking it, though.
Nicodemus exits from the elevator accompanied by a *Ding!* announcing someone's arrival on the 5th floor. Possibly lured by the smell of coffee, Nick rounds the corner of the breakroom, spies Mouse (and no sign of combat in the room), and enters. "Hey. There any surplus coffee in the pot?" He crosses the room, as if intent on getting some.
"Plenty," Mouse replies, lowering her own mug and using it to point toward a pot that is still mostly full. "How're things?"
Nicodemus pulls a mug out at random. It has a white unicorn farting a colorful rainbow out its ass. He fills it with coffee and adds a pack of sugar as he speaks. "Good. Interesting. Different." He says each word with a pause between them, which gives him time to head over in your direction so he can speak a little quieter as he settles onto a chair nearby you. "I think I'm going to be out of town for, oh, about two weeks. Wisconsin. Going to be helping Emma out on her adren challenge. Nothing dangerous. Just interacting with humans who might not talk with her, using my PI skills and whatnot to look up information, if that's needed. She thinks she'll have better luck getting people enlisting to help her out if she can refine what's an ambiguous challenge into a much more 'go here, do X' sort of thing."
"Emma?" Mouse echoes, curious, and perhaps a little amused. "You're going to be spending two weeks halfway across the country with a Get of Fenris Ahroun?" She finally takes a sip from her own mug. "Challenges have a way of becoming dangerous. Be careful."
"Two weeks with little to no moon in the sky, and she seems to have a good handle on her rage, so...." Nick hesitates, then shrugs. "I plan to stay out of the way of whatever she's getting into. I doubt she'd let me even if I asked to be, but I'm not going to ask. I have zero desire to rub shoulders with a bunch of strange Get. Out of curiosity, though. I might need an excuse to split off from Emma for a couple days. Do you know of any Glass Walkers near
"I could drum up some names, I bet," Mouse says. "No one I'd know personally, or likely anyone who knows anyone I know personally, but that's the beauty of the internet. I could also come, if you wanted. Things are disturbingly quiet around here, just now, and I have a toy that might help if Emma's trying to convince humans."
Nicodemus blinks in surprise. "Really? You'd lend her a hand on this? You have her number? We're leaving tomorrow morning." He glances out the breakroom door towards the apartments. "Shit. Val's out of town. Think Riley would take care of my cat while I'm gone? Or maybe Clarice?"
"Val, yes, Clarice, bad idea," Mouse replies, and she looks, if anything, rather happy. "Sure, if it's allowed. She's...okay. Salem trusts her, you trust her. And I'm aching to do something moderately active. If you want, you can drive the batmobile. It's not exactly incognito, but it's roomy, air conditioned, and relatively bullet proof."
Nicodemus oooohs. "Oh, that's very, very tempting. But maybe some other time? I think Emma was just planning on borrowing her dad's F-150. If we've more people, I'll offer my Porsche. More than that, my Winnebago. I think the batmobile is, perhaps, a little too memorable. And you just /know/ people are going to eat and drink in it and mess it up." His phone chirps once and he pulls it out to look it over. "If we take anything other than the F-150, Emma can get a rental once she's there. Or we can buy a cheap beater with cash via a fake company I set up, then sell it to recoup the money if it survives the challenge." He starts reading something on his phone.
Mouse's mouth quirks up on one side. "Up to you guys, I'm just offering it. In any case, you remember Riot. Did you ever notice the fetish she had? Butterfly pendant she liked flashing around everywhere."
Judging by the look of minor distate that manages to flash across his face at the mention of her name, Nick knew Riot. "Grade-A, power-tripping asshole, that one. I don't miss her one iota. I'm sorry she died, but I don't miss her one bit." He shakes his head negatively. "I was very under the radar at the time. All she did was give me shit if she saw me around Harbor Park. What does this butterfly pendant do?"
"Yes," Mouse agrees, to the first point at least. "It makes you more persuasive with humans. Riot gave it to me as part of a contrition, years back. I can bring it along, in case we need an edge."
"That'd be.... Son of a bitch," Nick mutters as he looks back his phone. "I'd emailed Val yesterday. Looks like the email--or her autoresponse--got caught in temporary limbo. It says she'll be without access for a few days, but will have internet access back on July 29." He turns his phone so you can read the automated response e-mail. "Last Monday." He grimaces. "What are the odds that she's just lost or forgot about that autoresponder? And that number she's left isn't her usual number. I'm guessing a disposable phone."
Mouse turns a frown on Nick's phone. "Do you think she's in trouble, or just potentially getting into it?" A beat. "Both?"
"Be right back," Nick grumbles as he gets up, goes to his room, and returns less than a minute later wielding an old Magic 8-Ball toy. He plunks down in his chair, shakes it while the '8' is facing upwards, pauses a moment, collects himself, and then talks to the plastic sphere. "Oh, Magic 8-Ball. Does Val need rescuing?" Yeah. That just happened. He then turns the toy 180 degrees, holding it reverently in both hands. The randomizer element within floats into view through the murky blue liquid. It reads: "REPLY HAZY, TRY AGAIN." Nick promptly gets up, storms over to the kitchen area, and drops the 8-ball into the trash. "Useless piece of shit," he curses on his way back to his chair.
Mouse has seen the 8-ball before, so she's, perhaps, not as weirded out as she might be otherwise. In fact, she watches Nick do his thing with blanket fascination, wincing only slightly when he gets up and tosses the toy away. "...Are you sure you aren't going to want that back in about five minutes?"
"No. I felt it. That was most likely the right answer. She might or might not. She's probably doing something risky or dangerous--or planning to--and it could go either way. The future is murky," Nick explains. "Always in motion and full of this lovely thing called 'free will'. But right now? She doesn't need rescuing. And I swear that 8-ball is jinxed. I'm just going to go buy a new one."
Mouse sighs. "Sorry, Nick. I'm afraid that tends to be what we do, more often than not. Even Corax. Can you check again in a little while?"
Nicodemus pushes his bangs out of his eyes. "It's okay. I'm a /huge/ fan of free will, even if it does complicate getting a good hold on what the future has in store. I'll check right before I head out to meet up with Emma tomorrow. And alert Riley that she ought to have a grab bag ready to go track down and rescue Val if we give her a ring in the coming week or two."
Mouse nods at this, though she still looks a little hesitant. "...Right. Okay. So, butterfly pendant? And you're not expecting trouble, so no need to break out any extra hardware, though I always go armed."
Nicodemus pushes the thing with Val into the background and refocuses on the not-yet-cancelled trip. "That sounds like it would be pretty useful, assuming Emma is going to need to get information out of humans. Saves me from having to go through the trouble and ethical quadries of pulling a Jedi mind trick, too. Nice." He says, "I'll probably bring my pistol--I only pack rubber bullets in the thing and have thankfully only needed to shoot someone once--a couple penlight tasers, and my cell phone taser. Pretty much what I've just gotten into the habit of carrying." He cants his head slightly. "You heard that Riley managed to come back from Seattle with an SMG the vampires gave her? Oh, and FYI, I checked her headspace out and didn't see any evidence of vampiric mindfuckery."
"That's a relief," Mouse says, with a slight shake of her head. She pauses in order to sip from her coffee mug again. "Do you have a vest? I think you've mentioned that you have a vest. If not, I have one."
"I do," Nick states. "And I'm bringing it. Might just loan it to Emma though, as I don't plan to be anywhere near any place where shit will be hitting the fan. And if someone decides to raid the motel or wherever it is we end up crashing? Emma can heal: I can't. So my vest then."
"I'll bring mine," Mouse offers. "That way, two of us will have one, and the one who doesn't recover from bullets in a few seconds can always have one." She gives him a brief, crooked smile at that. "Me, that happens even if I look human, so I'm fine unless someone breaks out silver. And if someone breaks out silver, I'm prrrrobably screwed regardless."
"If someone does use silver, get cover, let me know who, and I'll focus some unpleasantness in on them." Nick then adds, "I'm reasonably sure I could shield people against bullets, but not so sure as to be excited about testing it out on myself." He then adds, "But Emma doesn't know about me, so I'd probably try being subtle that she wouldn't notice--unless our backs were against the wall."
Mouse nods once. "Noted. I'll try, though usually the first time you know silver bullets are in play is after you get shot with them." She pauses for a moment, fingers curling lightly around her coffee mug. "If that /does/ happen at any point in the future, for the record, I need to get them dug out immediately. Homids can shift back to breed form--though that comes with the obvious downside of still having bullet holes in you--and lupus likewise, but metis don't have that option. So, you know...just so you know."
Nicodemus winces. "I did not know that. Digging them out?" He grimaces and thinks a moment. "I could /probably/ turn them from silver to lead faster than I could do a hack-job of field surgery. I'll make certain to get to you first, any other Glass Walkers second, non-Walker metis third, and anyone else last. But, uh, let's try not to get into any fights if at all possible."
Mouse's eyebrows lift at that. "Well, that would be /far/ preferable," she admits. "But only if you can spare the effort. This is all hypotheticals anyway. I just wanted you to know."
"I excel at hypotheticals, so long as no one is pounding on me or putting metal in me at a high velocity. If things do get hairy, I'll be trying to get behind cover first. So hold whatever it is off for a bit until I can lend a hand." Nick runs a hand through his hair. "I, uh, should prooobably also mention that, uhm.... We're kind of keeping it quiet right now, but I /might/ not always be back in my room at night. If you're looking for me. I suspect you'd likely key in on what's up on the two thousand plus mile car ride, so.... Out in the open with you."
"Wait," Mouse says, at the subject shift. "You lost me. Who is keeping what quiet?"
Nicodemus attempts to clarify. "Emma and I. We've kind of been seeing each other, quietly, so there wouldn't be any outside influences or pressures on either of us. I suspect, on a car ride from here to Wisconsin, you'd probably end up picking up on it. So.... We'd appreciate it if you kept it quiet, too."
"You..." There's a long pause, longer than usual for Mouse, and then a considerably lame. "Oh." Another beat. "I...thought you said you weren't interested in dating, let alone dating one of us." Her coffee? Pretty much forgotten on the table now.
"I'd just had a really terrible end to a serious relationship--Hell, I'd been engaged--and.... My shit was topsy turvy. And I had a lot of trouble wrapping my head around garou being human." Nick purses his lips, making his mouth a tight, thin line. His coffee has likewise been forgotten. "I guess, after spending a lot of time with her just doing normal stuff, I started seeing past the whole not-entirely-human thing. And she asked me out about six months ago. I turned her down, but it got me thinking about the whole situation again. So I ended up asking her out a couple months ago, and.... It seems to be kind of working out, y'know?"
"Yeah," Mouse says lamely. "That is, I mean. Well, I don't /know/, but I'll take your word for it." There's another beat. Two. Then she musters up a faint, crooked smile. "Glad you two are enjoying each other, then. And you're right, it does put the whole two weeks in Wisconsin thing into sharper perspective."
"Seemed a shame to waste the thinner moon," Nick explains, putting a somewhat practical spin on it. "And she might need a hand if there's any talking to people aspect that crops up. It suggested it, and she took me up on the offer, so.... I'd just swung by to pack a bag, tell you what was up, and make arrangements for LOLcat."
Mouse nods once. "She isn't going to be irritated if I come along, is she? I mean, if you two want your space." She seems to remember her coffee; her hand goes to the mug, and stays there. "I'd offer to take care of your cat too, but...Garou. He isn't going to like me at all."
Nicodemus snorts in amusement. "He's a cat. He doesn't even like me unless I've got a can of food in my hand or it's winter and the house is cold and he's looking for a warm body to lay on. He's useless, and I blame Val for dumping him on me six or seven years ago when he was an abandoned kitten." He sobers up a little, switching topics. "I don't think you'd be an imposition at all on the trip. Personally, I think Emma would be thrilled to have the level of support you could bring to bear on this. It's just that I'm not sure what the housing situation is going to be like. And there might be a couple days where I need to slip away from Emma and do my own thing. Visiting a Walker relative might end up being cover story."
"Honest!" Mouse says, and she's a little lighter toned now, that awkwardness almost, but not quite entirely gone from view. "It's our rage, animals can sense it. Mine's nothing to speak of next to, say, Salem's, but I bet your cat puffs up and hisses if I get within twenty feet of him. --Don't worry about housing. I'm more than capable of getting my own room if it's a hotel, or finding a spot out of the way. If you want me to bullshit about nearby Walker relations, I can manage that too."
Nicodemus says "It'd probably be easier to bullshit, but don't let that keep you from meeting some new contacts. I've got a call in to someone far better connected with my kind than I. Seeing if there's anyone in the area that might have a need for me or my assistance."
"Okay." Mouse is quiet for a few moments, then finally brings her--almost certainly now cold--coffee to her lips. "Then I'll be ready to go tomorrow. See you then?"
Nicodemus nods. "Sure thing. I need to get packing, too." He stands and stretches, casting a brief look over his shoulder towards the kitchen. "And I need to pick up a new 8-ball."
