Catching Up at the Farmhouse

[hazlogs]

It is currently 20:14 Pacific Time on Mon Nov 11 2002.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is raining lightly. The temperature is 49
degrees Fahrenheit (9 degrees Celsius). The wind is calm today. The
barometric pressure reading is 30.12 and falling, and the relative humidity
is 100 percent. The dewpoint is 49 degrees Fahrenheit (9 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waxing Half Moon phase (45% full).

Farmhouse: Hallway and Living Room

All doorways in the front part of the house lead to the front hallway, a
J-shaped area with the short tail starting at the stairs, the front door
hitting the bottom curve, the doorless opening to the living room halfway up
the long side, and the also doorless opening to the kitchen and dining room
at the very top. The hall has a simple wooden floor, and decorated with a
generic print of soft-colored flowers hanging on the wall to the right of
the front door, and a tall table sitting under the print which serves as a
place to toss keys. A closet under the stairs serves as a place to hang
coats or to toss shoes.

The doorless opening to the living room is halfway up the side of the hall's
J, and the word cozy might spring to mind when looking into is, as it seems
to radiate comforting vibrations. A long couch sits against the south wall
beneath a large bay window curtained only by sheers that manages to obscure
the view in but only filters the day's light. A variety of out-of-date
magazines are strewn atop a low coffee table; more neatly presented are the
plethora of books filling the small bookshelves which line the eastern wall.
Three chairs sit about the room, focused inward, to allow group
conversations. Large floor pillows are stacked in one corner of the room,
except one, which lies carelessly in the middle of the floor, apparently
left out the last time it was used.

An opening in the northern end of the hallway allows access to the kitchen
and dining room at the back of the house, while carpeted stairs twist up at
the other end of the hall, leading to the second floor. A door at the base
of the J lets out to the front porch.

Laura glances at Sepdet. "The place I'm from, or somewhere else?" She has
another long drink of water. "Snow Lies Deep is mostly Wendigo. Not too many
Furies."

Susan gives a lazy wave to Salem and gestures him towards the rapidly
vanishing stack of pizzas. "Connections with other caerns would be
welcomed," she says.

Andrea shakes her head. "I'm not sure when Western Eye will be able to get
themselves another pathstone, though. They didn't ask our aid in that, as we
were already so overdue, but they are still dealing with the more basic
needs of the caern at the moment."

Kaz says, "Yah, like, you know, not getting /eaten/."

"That would be the big one," says Susan dryly.

"Very important, that," Laura chimes in.

Sepdet blows on her cocoa. "Indeed. If they do not have luck with that for a
while, perhaps one of our rank challenges could be the finding of a new
Stone, as Breaker found ours."

Salem shuts the front door behind him and returns the Fianna's wave with a
curt nod. He gives the pizzas only the briefest glance. "How bad is it, down
there?" he asks, looking toward Andrea.

Susan twists one of the beads in her hair. "Down there was pretty bad. But
the caern itself -- and the Sept -- look to be recovering. The Dancers are
getting sneakier, I fear."

Andrea rubs the scar on her neck, thoughtfully. "Possibly," she says,
thoughtfully. "Though given time, they may recover without that much need
for aid." She turns toward Salem. "Not as bad as we feared. The overt
attacks against them have ended, for now at least. My pack was able to
disrupt some enemy activity in the area." She nods ruefully to Susan.
"Though I have hopes we were able to turn the tables on them. There's also
some sort of problem between here and there. I'd sent a unicorn spirit back
with word from us; it never reached Robert."

Sepdet smiles thinly at Andrea. "Much to his annoyance, since I kept
hounding him for news."

Kaz says, looking back up finally, "I was mostly doin' backline support
shit. I din' hear about what y'all did. How'd you disrupt stuff?"

Laura drinks and listens quietly.

Andrea glances at Susan to see if she plans to begin. "They were going to
make a hive not too far distant," she finally answers, without a galliard's
preamble to the story. "Our totem gave us enough hints to know where to
look, and their wards were unsuited to keep us from tampering with the
elements of the rite. When the moon fades to new again, I plan to ask Jade
if they tried and died, as we suspect."

Salem settles into a chair near the others, shrugging out of his coat as he
does so and letting it drape over the back of the chair like a discarded
skin. The Walker stretches his legs out, listening solemnly.

Kaz says "Well, rockin' on. How'd you tamper with 'em?"

Sepdet reaches for the spare mug of Swiss Miss and shoves it towards Salem's
chair without ceremony.

Andrea's mouth actually quirks at that question. "Ah. Well, Susan has the
luck of her tribe, you know. She disrupted some of the placements, the ones
she felt most central. I used Raccoon's gifting from long ago, to make some
of the foul brews and concoctions they'd left less--unnourishing."

Salem gives Sepdet a bit of an unreadable look but accepts the proffered mug
without protest.

Kaz blinks. "Raccoon's cookin' thing was actually useful? Wow, will wonders
never cease." She looks up. "No offense, 'Hood."

"And less foul smelling," says the Fianna no-moon with a grin. "Although it
was frankly hard to tell."

"Kaz." Sepdet mimes taking notes. "I was thinking it might be a good thing
for Galliards to gather this story, and that of Nightfire's successful
quest, and perhaps Crescent Wing's since young Tobin is as pleased with
himself as only a Fang can be, and call the sept to an informal tale-telling
on the egg moon. Sad news gets spread. These things are not so well known."

Kaz shoots Sepdet an aggrieved look. "Why do you think I'm askin' her alla
these questions?"

Andrea laughs lightly at Kaz. "Patrick used to feed his roomate the previous
day's garbage for breakfast without him ever the wiser, but this was the
first time I'd had to use it like that, I admit. We were in the Umbra, and
in a foul place, and there was little external to work with."

Sepdet gives Kaz a sheepish glance in return. "My nose is where it does not
need to be, again."

Kaz nods, with a faint grin, at Andrea. "How'd you find out it was goin' on?
Y'Totem?"

Susan snorts. "Jade is fond of bad dreams."

Andrea nods, again with a half-grin. "Jade doesn't believe in gentle ways of
telling, no. She visited us all with strong dreams on the same night, and in
the sharing we put together the common threads."

Salem wraps both hands around the warm mug, taking the occasional sip but
otherwise appearing content enough to simply hold it.

Kaz says, "Joyous. Dreams of rapine and savagery and alla that rot, or kinda
more obscure?"

Andrea shakes her head. "More obscure, but distressing all the same." She
pauses, then adds, "For part of mine, I felt trapped, as if I could not
breathe. Even when I woke, it was if my lungs did not wish to take in a full
dose of air."

Standing a petite 5'3", this tanned woman appears to be in her thirties.
Brilliant silver streaks pepper the braid of her dark, curly hair, which is
a few shades lighter than her sober black eyes. Her clothing appears
servicable and warm: a dark blue flannel shirt, blue jeans, and short tan
moccasins. On her left, a bright woven bag hangs off a leather belt; on her
right, the jawbone of a large grazer is hooked through the same. A diamond
stud glimmers in her right ear. Also on her right side, she wears a carved
wooden ring. On her left wrist, she wears a handcrafted copper bracelet,
oddly at odds with the delicate gold charm bracelet on her right. Her only
serious flaw is a twisted burn scar on her neck, which covers most of the
visible skin of the left side of her neck and disappears into her hair.

Kaz shivers slightly. "That ain't no fun." Her glance slides to Susan.

	Beautiful, this woman isn't. Most people wouldn't even call her
interesting, although there is a spark of something, deep down in there.
Even so, most people would call her homely, if they bothered to call her
anything at all. She's about 5'6" tall, and burly. Not fat -- It's the kind
of burly that's all muscle, just not well defined muscle.

	 Her hair is brown, distinctly curly, and in her eyes. Constantly.
The part that's not in her eyes is about shoulder length. Her eyes are
distinctly odd, although it's hard to tell, given how often she hides behind
her hair. They're yellow, and look almost cat-like. The rest of her face
isn't offensive, just boring. The nose is a bit big -- maybe it's been
broken, or maybe she was just born that way. Her chin is broad, as are her
cheekbones. Classic features for a man that don't at all work on her.
There's a wry, cynical smile often playing about her lips that does nothing
to add to her mostly non-existent charm. Makeup, it's clear, is of very
little use to this person.

	 "Battered" would describe her choice of clothing quite well. Grey
trenchcoat, tired blue jeans, an oxford shirt hanging open, with a t-shirt
underneath. Her sneakers are black, and she often has a black hat jammed
over her head.

Susan frowns. "I saw concrete walls, search lights, and barbed wire. And I
heard a gunshot."

Susan is a striking young woman in her early twenties. Her rich coffee and
cream complexion and startling green eyes reveal her mixed parentage. Long
black braids frame a face that, while not classically beautiful, commands
notice. There is a trace of greatness in her features, possibly from the
strong set of her jaw, or perhaps in the brilliant smile that she seems to
ready to bestow at a moment's notice.

Her clothing is functional; sturdy jeans tucked into a pair of well-worn
hiking boots and topped with a plain white tee-shirt. On colder days, she
adds a warm flannel shirt and a much abused leather jacket that seems to
have a thousand and one pockets. A scent of pine needles and damp earth
seems to be soaked into the jacket and jeans, but beneath the stronger
smells is the faintest whisp of a metallic tang.

Sepdet winces and bolts back the rest of her chocolate. "And to think I
thought visions were a keen idea when I was a cub."

Andrea nods in reply. "Not pleasant at all. I think we were called because
of the nature of the wards that protected the rite circle. I didn't seem
them before they activated, but they were really quite fascinating."

Sepdet tilts her head towards the senior theurge hopefully.

A petite young woman of African descent with somber manners at odds with the
glint in her dark eyes, Sepdet holds herself with a confidence beyond her
twenty years. She's bony and wiry, with dusky brown skin and a fuzzy halo of
hair whose uneven hairline betrays a faint scar on her temple.

	Clothes seem to be a concession to human tastes, but barely. She
wears a faded linen tunic that hangs down to mid-thigh, rust-colored tight
leggings that reach to mid-calf, and battered wool-lined moccasin boots. A
truly antique sheepskin jacket with a wide furry collar and hood was
probably once sand-colored, but has turned teak with age. A large suede
beltpouch marked with an Egyptian star rests against one hip and a waterskin
slung from one shoulder against the other. As always a handful of charms
hang at her neck: a wooden cartouche, carved fish, a tiny curved blade, and
a small beaded medicine wheel.

Andrea sets down her tea and rubs her hands absently against her jeans.
"They released dopplegangers," she explains. "But not literal ones. They
reflected the person that stepped across the line, but only the part of them
that is of the Enemy. That corruption, given spirit form, would then move to
fight the Garou that trigged the wards."

Kaz blinks. "Really? How?"

Sepdet blinks several times. "I have encountered such a thing before," she
observes quietly. "But I have not seen it used in this fashion. Dangerous,
but ingenious."

Susan's lips quirk. "It was interesting."

Salem's eyes widen slightly at Andrea's description, and then his mouth
twitches into a grimace. "Attack on the flesh _and_ the psyche. Right."

Kaz sits up a bit. "/I/ ain't seen that. Did it hurt you guys to attack 'em?"

Laura wrinkles her nose. "Incredible," she murmurs.

Susan shakes her head. "Not really, no. "

Kaz says, "Well, that's /one/ plus. Did you gotta whup 'em up, I assume?"

Andrea shakes her head. "It didn't, though it was distinctly odd to name a
spirit and see my own name in its lines. Susan and I were the only ones to
step across, and our reflections were very weak and easy to kill. We were
lucky that Elan had not gone to cross with us, as he has not spent time in
the silver river. A pack of ahroun, full of rage and anger, might well have
destroyed themselves on the wards of what they would stop."

Susan grimaces at that notion. "And luckier still that we had spent the time
in the river as well."

Salem grunts. And sips his hot chocolate. No comment there.

Kaz just nods. "Was that the main obstruction y'ran across?"

Andrea grimaces. "Other than the environment itself. Touch Deer and Susan
fought with some tentacled things, but they were not too badly wounded."

Susan's eyes unfocus briefly before she responds. "The place where they were
building their hive was -- as Andrea said -- pretty unpleasant."

Kaz says, "Well, it's a hive. It's not gonna be prime real estate n'more."

Andrea says firmly, "Not a hive proper, I have every hope." Her hand again
absently strokes the scar on her neck. "A hive and a caern in close
proximity is never a good thing for our kind. Look to Grey Sky."

"Gaia willing, we were in time." Susan yawns sleepily and says to the
others, "I should rest. Andrea, I'll go curl up in the barn until you're
ready to leave?"

"Thanks for the feast," Sepdet says gravely.

Laura nods to Susan. "Thank you."

Kaz winces at mention of Grey Sky. "Geez, mom, do I have to?"

Kaz then gives Susan a wave. "Catch you later, yah?"

Susan waves. "Not a problem. Gaia watch you all." She turns and heads outside.

Susan leaves through the front door. You can hear the screen door swing shut
again with a clatter.

Andrea goes back to sipping her tea, thoughtfully, after her packmate leaves.

Sepdet exhales. "As for other news..." she says, a verbal throat clearing.

Laura looks at the others in the room somewhat expectantly.

Andrea glances over and tilts her head slightly in a non-verbal question.

Salem shifts his weight and turns a dark brown eye over toward the Strider,
one eyebrow lifted.

Sepdet rattles off with Strider economy, "The caern is healing but needs
more care; Laura's pack and Owen removed a corrupted spirit that was lurking
in a pit trap we'd missed; Nightfire's pack has brought back an intriguing--
I don't even know exactly what it is, but it's helping the wards--" she
breaks off, curiosity distracting her for a second before she finds her
train of thought-- "the sept reinstalled the Pathstone last moot; many
pledged to help the Guardians with patrol; Salmon's Leap is gone and
Crescent Wing, a Merlin pack, has formed; the Wendigo are having angry
internal disputes; Kristine, Renee, and Helen have claimed alphaships of
their tribes; the Get have a kin woman named Elizabeth who has come to the
Farmhouse a few times; and the bawn has been invaded by sleepwalking
livestock or graduate students."

Andrea nods occasionally through the list, but the last makes her echo.
"Graduate students?"

Kaz blinks at Sepdet. "Salmon's Leap is which what?" Then she adds, "Renee
took over an' I came back about 3 minutes later, 'cause John died, which you
know about, an' I ain't the mess I was two weeks ago, so, um, we'll see
about that, soon."

"...And the acting Walker Elder," says Salem, deadpan, over his half-empty
cup of cocoa, "is looking for someone to teach him the Rite of Passage."
There's a slight emphasis over the word 'acting', but it's subtle enough to
be missed.

Laura nods to all of the news. Most of it she's already heard, but for the
news about the new Merlin pack, and the dissolution of Salmon's Leap. "Helen
and I discussed Eldership, and we decided not to fight about it. What
happened to Salmon's Leap, thought?"

Andrea turns to face Salem. "Which would be you?" she asks, without surprise
or even bothering to wait for the answer. "I know it, if you wish to learn
it from me."

Kaz, meanwhile, asks, "Are you gonna be an Acting Elder for as long as John
insisted he wasn't Elder? It kinda messes with morale and stuff."

Sepdet managed to wait a beat and dodge awkward questions, so for now she
merely nods silent agreement to Kaz's comment.

Salem inclines his head slightly. "That would be me, yes." Dry. Bone-dry.
"And I'd be honored." Then he turns an eye at Kaz. His answer is a simple,
"No."

Kaz tilts her head. "Does that mean you're plannin' not to be Elder after
awhile, or that you'll suck it up eventually?"

Laura watches Sepdet as the conversation progresses, still waiting to hear
her news. Not so easy to get out of that one.

A look of prickly irritation flickers across Salem's face, briefly. "I'm not
John," he tells her flatly, after his face has gone all unreadable again.

Sepdet says quietly, "The tribe elder is the one whom the others look to as
leader. It is not simply a title, a human job to be taken or put aside. It
is a fact, just as a wolf's position within a pack is a fact."

Kaz rolls her eyes. "No shit you ain't. You're a fine figure of a philodox
who's /here/, now, and doin' the job. What's your problem, anyways?"

Salem shifts a glance toward Sepdet when she speaks, and his gaze skims
briefly over Andrea and Laura before settling back on the Bone Gnawer and
her verbal poke-poking. "No problem," he says, stonily.

Kaz pauses. Maybe she's counting to five. "So... what's the deal?"

Andrea remains silent during the exchange, though she did nod to Salem's
acknowledgement of her offer.

Laura is equally quiet, eyes flicking from one speaker to the next.

Salem's eyes narrow. "No problem," he says to Kaz again. "No 'deal'." His
tone of voice has a stubborn edge of 'not now, dammit', and he's focussed
his eyes on the Gnawer Fostern's, as much as they can be seen, anyway.

Kaz regards him for a long moment, and then she shrugs. "Right, whatever,
Dubious Boy. I'll... be seeing /you/ around, f'sure." Oh, yes, indeed. "So,"
she continues, not quite looking away from Salem, "What's this about
Salmon's Leap?"

Salem holds the stare a moment longer, then breaks it, focussing on the mug
in his hands as he takes another sip.

Sepdet gives the silence and the Glass Walker a moment to settle before
answering evenly, "Little Bear and I had a strenuous falling-out. He
believes I have broken my oath by not pushing Wendigo as caern Totem, and
takes all my words as lies. For the sake of my oath, I could not break his
jaw. So I left. I call Silverscale's mission completed with what she did on
the night the caern was retaken."

Andrea studies Salem thoughtfully for a breath more, before turning back to
Sepdet. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Kaz says, quite sincerely, "Me too. Is Yi ok an' all?"

"Sorry," Laura chimes in, eyes dropping for a moment.

Salem shakes his head slightly, his mouth pulled into a faint grimace. "A
shame," he says.

Sepdet looks up and seeks Andrea's eyes briefly, seeking a friend's glance
and not an elder's, before answering. "Yi is Yi. It was hard for her, but
she had doubts about her role in the pack even before this happened. In one
way I think she is relieved, although not in the manner of the pack's
ending. She is...mostly... all right, but you saw how close she is to
fraying."

Kaz, having finally looked away from Salem, nods, a little grimly. "Yah.
Well. Tribe's... gettin' more tribelike. Mebbe that'll help, some."

"And she has been scouting the source of our odd tresspassers. As long as
there is work for her to do, she'll be fine." The Strider looks between Kaz
and Salem. "I can't go to the city anymore, and I worry. That goes also for
La Guitarita."

Kaz says, a little hoarse, "I take care of family, Sepdet." Then she blinks,
and asks, "Who?"

"She means Tatt," says the Glass Walker, dourly. "...And I haven't seen her
since the day I told her about John."

Sepdet's expression goes briefly unreadable. "Then I should be sending her
to her packmates instead, the next time I catch her. She did not take it
well, but I..." she pauses, looks away, and concludes lamely with, "broke
her jaw. That gave her something else to be angry about."

Kaz blinks mildly. "Your approach differs from mine," she eventually says.

Heading downstairs once again is Alicia, brushing her wet hair out. Peering
over at the assembled, she settles silently against the wall to listen
curiously.

Laura nods to Alicia as she enters the room, then returns to listening to
the others speak.

Sepdet shrugs. "Coaxing words will not work on a Strider who has made up her
mind." There is an inexplicable gleam in her eye.

Salem arches a brow at the petite Strider, surprised. Then, as Alicia
arrives, he lifts his mug to her in greeting.

Alicia dips her head to those in the room in greeting, blowing out a slow
breath.

Kaz looks, for some reason, fascinated. "Really." Then she shoots a faint
smile at Alicia.

Sepdet gives Alicia a good-natured smile, considering the recent topic of
conversation, and falls silent.

"Hey Salem.. now that Quentin is staying here, I've been working out with
him every morning, getting him in shape and stuff, even got him helping me
out during bawn patrols so he can learn the ins and outs of the land."
Alicia says, in way of conversation.

Kaz levers herself off the couch. "Anyways. Catch you folks later." She
sticks the can in the recycling as she leaves.

"Good," Salem says, finishing the last of the hot chocolate. He glances over
toward the departing Gnawer, then looks back at his packmate. "See if you
can get Cat involved too, if possible. Though I imagine he'll be reluctant."

Andrea's look holds the sympathy that Sepdet was searching for, though she
shakes her head at this last statement. "Are you becoming Derek Jackson?"  
she asks lightly, at last.

Sepdet raises a hand at Kaz.

Alicia nods her head to Salem, then glances over to Kaz. "Hey.. see ya later
sis."

Laura nods to Kaz as she leaves, then cocks her head to Sepdet and Andrea.
"This thing I've learned...the rite. Are there any who need it now? I would
like to perform it in tribute to the caern and the Wyld..." She looks more
at the Strider than the Gaian, smiling faintly.

Sepdet tells Andrea, "It couldn't hurt." Then her eyes tighten at Laura's
question. "Unfortunately... I do not know of any others."

Andrea also stands to prepare to leave. "What rite?" she asks Laura
curiously, after nodding another greeting to Alicia and raising a hand of
farewell to Kaz.

Laura's eyes drop briefly. "The Fertility Rite," she replies. "To return the
lost ability to bear children."

Salem looks up rather sharply at that. The empty mug is still cradled in his
hands.

Alicia glances over to Salem for a moment, then over to Laura, brows
furrowing some. "Thats a pretty good rite to get."

Andrea's dark eyes widen in interest. "Fascinating," she murmurs.

Sepdet gives Salem a sober glance as well.

Laura folds her hands in her lap and nods. "My teacher...Lykaios-rhya said
it might help those who were already able to have children, but it's most
commonly used for the other."

Salem's expression is dark, the corners of his mouth tugged downwards.
"Interesting," he says flatly, and then rises to take his cup into the
kitchen. "Excuse me."

In the front rooms, Andrea nods back at Laura. "Maybe some evening we can
discuss more details. Whatever is not secret to your tribe."

In the front rooms, Sepdet's shoulders rise and fall in an inaudible sigh,
watching Salem's departure.

In the front rooms, "That would be welcome," Laura replies, nodding to
Andrea. "I should go...wander the Bawn, reacquaint myself with the Lady, and
see if she needs anything."

In the front rooms, Alicia watches the others start to depart and rolls her
shoulders a bit, popping a few joints in her body. "I should join Laura
since I planned on patrolling till' the wee' hours of the morning."

Salem washes out the mug, taking his time about it. He passes back through
the front rooms to collect his coat and make his farewells -- rather curt
ones, with the minimum of courtesy -- and the departs broodingly out into
the night.

In the front rooms, Andrea nods in reply to Laura. "Walk with the Mother."
She smiles fondly at Alicia, as she adds, "And you as well." Sepdet gets a
touch on the shoulder, as Andrea takes some of the glasses and plates into
the kitchen.