"Practicing for the circus? Or just bored?"

[renferret]

Harbor Park -- Fountain
Situated in the center of a large, open meadow is a clustering of six trees, a flower bed, a few steel-and-wood benches set firmly into concrete, and a flagstone courtyard that is dominated by a large fountain.
The fountain is a wide circular pool of water some fifty feet across and about five feet deep in most places. The sculpture in the center is a mix of old and new, traditional and modern: eight concrete-and-stainless-steel slabs about six feet high are set in a rough Stonehenge-like circle around the center of the fountain. Water flows from their tops, cascading in bright mesmerizing sheets to the pool below. Rising above the steel circle is a large marble statue of the Water Bearer, an androgynous figure draped in robes of flowing water. It bears a large jug carved with various Greek symbols, from which pours a seething torrent of water into the pool at its feet.
Cars on the nearby street have an excellent view of the park as do any residents of the tall buildings which line the waterfront.
The murky waters of the Columbia River flow swiftly along the east side of the park. Bracketing the park to the west is First Street and the city of St. Claire. Recent construction work is creating an earthen berm several feet high all along the borders of the park in all directions.
Obvious exits:
Harbor Park Meadow

Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 59 degrees Fahrenheit (15 degrees Celsius). The wind is calm today. The barometric pressure reading is 29.87 and steady, and the relative humidity is 89 percent. The dewpoint is 56 degrees Fahrenheit (13 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waxing New (Ragabash) Moon phase (9% full).

Clouds have moved in since early morning, promising a chilly day with an almost certain guarantee of rain later on. It's not done too much to clear the park, at least not more than an early Thursday afternoon usually does. There's the usual collection of homeless, older people, and the occasional truant teen smoking dope, and then there's Ghost, who rather than sitting on the edge of the fountain, is today taking advantage of the flat area immediately around the fountain to--at the moment anyway--walk on her hands. She's not doing a bad job of it either, as there's very little wobbling and her arms seem far from giving out.

A lifted, massive Suburban geared for offroad use lumbers into one of the free parking spaces alongside the street. Nick clambers out of it, sweeps his gaze over the park's occupants, and then strolls into the park and towards the fountain. Ghost, with her hand-walking, seems to merit much more of his attention than the usual standing about or sitting activities. He nods his head in a greeting should she look his way eventually.

Ghost actually shifts her weight onto one hand enough that she waves back, though she returns to her more upright position immediately after. Still, the transition is smooth. "Hey."

Nicodemus continues on to the fountain's rim and settles down, though he circled closer--but not overly so--to the garou present. "Practicing for the circus? Or just bored?"

"Just practicing," Ghost replies. There's no sign of the sweatiness or sickliness she was showing the last time they met. In fact, she doesn't appear to be exerted much at all, despite her efforts of a moment ago. "But not for any circus."

"For other rough-and-tumble sports," Nick concludes easily enough. "Do, uh, loners get all involved in that sort of thing regularly? Or is it more 'fuck it, not my problem anymore?'" He seems legitimately curious.

Ghost appears to consider the question before she answers. "Depends on the loner," she says eventually. "You can't do like the big groups can. Resources are short. But if you don't fight at all, sooner or later the other team's going to get so big you'll have to cut and run. Sometimes loners make deals with them though. Don't say I said that."

"Sometimes the home team is composed of a bunch of rancid douchenozzles. Don't say I said that," Nick semi-mirrors your claim and words. "Where's your stand in all that?"

Ghost's shoulders go up and then come down. "War's war. Nothing honorable or exciting about it. It's uh. I'm used to it. Doesn't really matter what I think about fighting if I don't get a choice, does it? They never left us alone."

"The whole 'honor' part of war seems to vary, depending on who you ask, when, and who else is around at the time." Jaded much? Surely not. Still, his own words seem to cause Nick a little discomfort. Dissatisfaction. "Eh," he says dismissively of himself and his own words. "Things getting slightly better for you around here? Or worse?"

"Don't know yet," Ghost replies, moving easily to the new topic. "Met someone new the other day. She was nice and all. One of us. And Mr. Salem gave me a place to hide out for now. But if stuff gets worse in the city, then it's going to be really shit, and there really aren't many places to run to."

"Not to be nosey or anything, but who was it that you met and turned out to be friendly?" Nick momentarily chews his lip, and then he shares, "I've got a bad feeling that things are going to get worse before they get better." He adds, morosely, "They say that its darkest just before dawn, but I'm suspecting they might be wrong."

Ghost explains, "She liked unicorns. I know, uh, big surprise. But she was okay, when she wasn't going on about how sorry she felt for me." She reaches back and rubs at her neck. "Guess we'll find out how bad it gets."

"Oh," Nick says. "One of those ones." He doesn't seem particularly impressed nor surprised. "They /generally/ aren't assholes, but...." He cuts himself off rather than go any further. He summarizes, "There's always exceptions to the rule. And yeah. Only time will tell about things getting better or worse. And I hope to hell my gut is wrong."

"She was okay," Ghost says again. There's even a faint nod to her head as she says it. "Maybe we'll talk again." She looks Nick over, expression somewhat thoughtful. "Have you been in fights before?"

Nicodemus lifts a lone shoulder in a 'sorta?' gesture. He follows it with a little more explanation. "I used to be a police officer. I've been involved in a few tussels, and I've run into a thing or two humans shouldn't have seen or known about. I tend to go in the opposite direction when that happens and call for the people who can handle that sort of thing. And with the more mundane tussels, there's always been backup." He states frankly, "I try and avoid putting myself in situations where there might be a fight. I prefer resolving problems without resorting to violence."

"Yeah, but sometimes the fight doesn't want to leave you alone," Ghost points out. She wets her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. "We didn't try to pick fights, but there was always something, you know? They trained me for that. I guess it's a good thing, because backup's kind've scarce. You know how to handle yourself if you have to, right?"

"I very nearly made it through half of SWAT training?" Nick says, phrasing the statement more as a question. "I managed to break my arm rappelling down the side of a building during training. Didn't finish it. But I've got the basic training with a pistol and a shotgun, and I practice a couple times a month to stay fresh." He summarizes, "So mostly I run, hide, and call for backup these days." He certainly seems to know his limitations and doesn't seem prone to doing stupid things.

Ghost rubs the back of her neck again. "I could teach you if you wanted," she offers. "No fancy shit, just what's practical in a street fight. That way you can run, hide, call for backup, but if you get cornered you'll know what to do."

Nicodemus seems to seriously consider the offer for a bit. After a period of silent contemplation, he suggests, "Knowledge and tactics would be appreciated. Buuut.... I'm not so sure about how the Walker family would take that offer. Especially if you managed to get me hurt in the process. Accidents," he says pointedly, "Do happen. I've seen them. Or, rather, the results of them."

"Good point," Ghost admits. "My training was, uh. Rough."

Nick's phone demands his attention. He grimaces at the display and heads back to his car. "I'll keep the option in mind, but thanks for the offer."


MAIL: You are sending mail to 'Quin, Nicodemus'.
266/8000 characters added.
Set.
MAIL: You are sending mail to 'Quin, Nicodemus', carbon-copied to 'Val'.
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From: Ghost Subject: Blud!
To: Quin, Nicodemus
Cc: Val
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So, provided she can weasel access to a fridge (hey Val, mind if I store poisonous blood next to your cabbage?), Ghost provides the two samples Nick asked for, each marked with masking tape and marker as 'sick' and 'status quo'. It looks like normal blood, at least.
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From: Ghost Subject: Favors
To: Val, Hazmat
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Her last gift learn having just finished up successfully, Ghost is rather quick to suggest a repeat. She insists on couching this in trade terms, asking how much Val's interpretation skills will cost, etc, but she's perfectly willing to accept the Corax's time for free again (oh gosh, if you insist). As one might expect, she's offering services as payment rather than actual money. This time she's interested in finding either a willing Weaver spider, a rat spirit, or a metal elemental. She indicates that the rat spirit will take up the least of Val's time, but that the other two, while taking longer, might help with future offered services (body guarding or information, she says, but she's being rather cagey about specifics. What a surprise).
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MAIL: You sent your message to Val.
MAIL: You sent your message to Hazmat.