It is currently Thu May 26 2005.
Currently in Saint Claire, it's a sunny day. The temperature is 88 degrees
      Fahrenheit (31 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the 
      north at 10 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.91 and falling, 
      and the relative humidity is 17 percent. The dewpoint is 38 degrees 
      Fahrenheit (3 degrees Celsius.)
Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous Moon phase (77% full).

Jacinta opens the door, entering the safehouse and getting out of the heat of
      the afternoon sun. Sweat trickles down the back of her neck, and she 
      breathes a sigh of relief upon entering the relative cool of the house. 
      The bandage has been removed from the side of her face, exposing a mass 
      of scab and early scar tissue where her ear once was. A small bulge 
      indicates that the ear itself may eventually return. "Waqaa?" the Wendigo 
      calls into house. When there is no answer for several seconds, she moves 
      to the Glass Walker's electronically protected door and knocks.
Grey answers it after a moment, in clothing similar to what he wore for the
      Moot -- jeans, t-shirt, sneakers -- only with a long-sleeved shirt tossed 
      on over the tee, white cotton covering up the scars on his forearms. The 
      charach stares down at her for a couple of seconds, unsmiling and 
      dull-eyed, then shifts his eyes away with a murmured, "Good afternoon."
Jacinta gives Grey a small nod in greeting. "Waqaa, Thomas. I had hoped to find
      you. Have you spoken with Jeren, today?"
"She's either out or in hiding," the Glass Walker answers, stepping into the
      common area and letting the door to Walker Central swing shut behind him. 
      "So, no."
Jacinta's lips purse, but she nods acceptance. "I came earlier," she says, and
      begins walking toward the living room. "I will be leading a war party to 
      clean out whatever else hides in the webs of your kin's apartment's 
      shadow. I would like you beside me, if you are willing."

[Jacinta]
	 She stands proudly, this young adult; sure in her movements and comfortable
      in her body. Calloused fingers adorn small hands at the ends of muscular 
      arms. An Alaska Native, Jacinta is not the tallest warrior one could 
      imagine. Her stout figure falls just shy of five feet. Her eyes are a 
      brown so dark as to be almost black, and there is a steeliness about her 
      gaze which belies her easy smile. Her dark hair, once long enough to 
      reach mid-back while braided, now reaches just below her shoulders and 
      hangs loosely, untethered. 
	Her clothes are casual, relatively new blue jeans, and a dark blue T-shirt
      that has seen very little wear. On colder days, she wears a black, fleece 
      pullover, but when her arms are bare, a detailed tatoo of a long-knife is 
      visible along the back of her left forearm.

Grey follows slowly, hands slipping into the pockets of his jeans. "Mm," he
      says with a nod, not looking directly at her. He adds, blandly, "Yes, of 
      course. How many do you think will be needed?"
Her gaze slides to the side, considering, and the Wendigo leans on the arm of
      the couch. "The space is small, too many would merely trip over each 
      other. No more than 5 or 6. I have asked Jeren and Yi, and you. I intend 
      to ask Olga, as a Theurge, and Dakota's tribemate, Karl, if Olga is 
      unable. And Natalie, though I do not know if she will participate 
      alongside Bone Gnawers."
Grey's jaw tightens at mention of Yi; his eyes flick to Jacinta and then away
      again. He nods. "Having a healer would be good, yes." His voice remains 
      flat, almost distant.
"Ii," Jacinta agrees, but she clearly takes note of Grey's opinion of the
      Gnawer. "We will gather, here, as darkness comes tonight. I think we 
      should remove as much of the Weaver's creations as we can before hand. 
      What he and his mate choose to return to his home will be their choice, 
      but we need not fight her strength as we seek out the children of the 
      Horned Serpent."
Grey drops into a sit at the edge of a chair and rests his elbows on his knees.
      "Nnh. We can store the toys here, I suppose. Knowing Jeremy, though, 
      there'll be a great deal of it. You know he used to room with Roger?" The 
      Philodox studies his hands while he speaks.
Jacinta hooks her thumbs into her pockets. "I had heard something. But I do not
      know Roger, do not understand the significance."
Grey sits up, pushing a lock of hair away from his eyes. "Metis Galliard of our
      tribe. Mentally unstable, but highly intelligent. An inventor. Jeremy 
      lived with him in that same apartment." He looks at her again, then 
      shrugs; his expression's darkened somewhat, his temper stirring uneasily 
      under his skin.
The Wendigo listens quietly, then nods. "You think your kin was affected by the
      Metis," she states, brow furrowing. "Or do you think the apartment has 
      been?"
Grey shrugs again. "Both. Though, I was mainly thinking about the apartment...
      and the amount of tech that's probably squirrelled away there." His 
      shoulders tense, and he gets up quickly and prowls to the other end of 
      the living room.
Jacinta again nods. "Ii. We may not be able to make it safe to inhabit. But at
      least we will know, when we are done. And we can make certain the Horned 
      Serpent loses any hold he has, there."
Grey grunts, his back to her. "Going to run a Cleansing, I presume?"
Jacinta looks less certain, at that. "I have never run a cleansing in the city.
      It had been in my thoughts, but I do not know how effective it will be. I 
      thought perhaps one from the city would be better able to perform it."
Grey rakes fingers back through his hair. "Nnh. Don't know who in town has the
      rite, if Olga doesn't." He hesitates, hands going back into his pockets, 
      and adds, "Megan knows the rite, and has performed it in the city before."
"Olga knows it," Jacinta says quickly. "I taught it to her." She pushes off
      from the couch, rising to stand stiffly. "I haven not seen Megan in some 
      time, outside of Moot."
Grey's body language remains tense, restless. His face is tighter when he turns
      around again. "Alphaship's a busy position."
Jacinta's brows rise and fall, agreeing. "Do you know when your Elder should
      return?" For a moment her mouth hangs open, as though she intends to say 
      more. Then her jaw snaps shut, no more said.
Grey answers with a sharp shake of his head. "No, but I expect her back any
      time now."
Pulling her lips in between her teeth, Jacinta nods. "Then, I shall return in a
      short while. Quyana, Thomas."
Grey dips his head to the stout Wendigo and responds with a flat, "Be seeing
      you."
"Piurra," Jacinta says as she turns for the door.
Grey waits until she's out the door before retreating back into the other part
      of the house.