It is currently 17:06 Pacific Time on Mon Jun 21 2004.

Currently the moon is in the waxing Crescent Moon phase (27% full).

Cockroach Mansion -- Downstairs

The heavy, dark opulence to this mansion known as Dominion is perfectly
      exemplified by the room vistors first enter, this front hall. 
      Dark-stained wood serves as paneling on the walls, gleams with high gloss 
      in the hardwood floor, and supports a semi-circular balcony in carved 
      pillars. The heavy double doors, made of oak, open into the hall from the 
      south, opposite the huge, hourglass-shaped staircase composed of red and 
      black gneiss which soars up to the balcony; both are fenced in with a 
      wooden railing of simple spiraled posts. Several doorways can be made out 
      on the second floor, nearly blending in discreetly with the back wall. 
      The wall to the left of the front doors is composed entirely of windows 
      which run from the forty-foot-tall domed dark wood ceiling to the floor; 
      if drawn, the heavy velvet drapes of deep red would completely mask them 
      from view, but when parted, as they often are, one has a marvelous view 
      of the grounds outside.

A doorway to the right of the front doors leads to a parlor, and towards the
      back are the kitchens, the large dining room, and an office with an 
      adjoining bedroom suite.

Natalie holds up a placating hand, the ex-buttery one. "There's a difference
      between abandoning and being safe." She and Marcus are back in the 
      kitchen; the smell of toasted bagle wafts through the entire first floor 
      and likely up the steps as well. "And yes, that's -exactly- why I 
      suggested we scatter. /Because/ Jeremy is the only one who knows 
      precisely how it works, and he's leaving. ...Did he say when he'd be 
      gone? Today, tomorrow, end of the week?"

The sound of canine toenails on hardwood floors precedes the tribe's lupus cub
      into the kitchen. Chaney's face appears in the doorway, ears perked and 
      nose working visibly.

And Marcus allows himself to be placated. He has to work with Natalie after
      all, and she's not saying abandon it totally. "I got the impression he 
      goes today, although I could not guarantee it. But very soon, and he 
      dosn't know when he's coming back." The Philodox replies, ignoring 
      Chaney's presence.

Natalie shakes her head with a cynical, "Lovely." When she glances away she
      spots Chaney and beckons the cub inside. "So that's another reason to get 
      Cat or Josh back into school: to learn all this security crap that Jeremy 
      leaving leaves us a big hole in. If that made any sense. I could do it, I 
      suppose, but it's a helluva strange thing for a contractor to learn." 
      "--Want some bagle, Chaney?"

Many Faces's tail waves. Coming inside, she approaches Natalie -- and steers
      clear of Marcus to do so. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the lupus doesn't like 
      him. Smells good. What smells good? I want some.

"Cat is going back to school." Marcus nods. Apparently the Philodox has made up
      his mind on this one. "Who knows, he might even enjoy it." He still 
      ignores Chaney, for reasons best known to himself. The feeling is 
      probably mutual.

"Bagle, Chaney," Nat declares, holding the toasted dough up for Chaney's
      inspection. While she rips off a bit she continues, "Interesting how all 
      these problems are interlaced, isn't it? And when I say 'interesting', I 
      mean 'makes me want to beat my head into a wall'." Catching the lupus' 
      attention she tosses her a bite.

Many Faces snaps the morsel in mid-air, chomps twice, and then it's gone.
      Sitting down, she stares up at Natalie with intent blue eyes. More, 
      please.

"I'm sure if you got the Ritemaster and the top Theurges in the Sept and locked
      them in a room for a while, they could probably come up with some very 
      credible bullshit as to why all problems are interlaced." Marcus replies 
      with a snort. "The trick is dealing with them individually, without 
      knocking over the house of cards."

Natalie snorts down at the cub. "I know. Shift to homid, and we'll discuss it.
      Actually, I want you to try saying 'bagle'. Baaagle." Sounds a lot like 
      'baaaath' when she draws out the vowel like that. Back to Marcus. "Oh 
      hell, -I- know that. It's a matter of prioritizing. Right now, the 
      Russian thing is your top priority. Cat is second. I don't have anything 
      that's a screaming need, but I'm sure something will leap into the 
      forefront."

"Indeed." Marcus agrees. "And yet Cat, despite being secondary, will be easier
      to sort and likely get sorted before the Russian thing while all the 
      while the Russian thing remains my top priority." He shrugs. "Funny how 
      these things work out." The Philodox stands. "I was thinking I might go 
      out for a bit."

Natalie waves absent-minded permission. "Sure. I'm not the one keeping you
      here. Maybe Chaney and I'll watch movies and eat popcorn tonight."

Many Faces's attention shifts sidelong toward Marcus, and she gets up and moves
      further away from him while keeping Natalie somewhat close. Natalie's 
      bagel has her interest, and the 'shift to homid' command seems to have 
      been missed. Want more, please. Please-please.

"While I'm sure I'll be be home by then, forgive me if I don't join you."
      Marcus chuckles darkly, then heads out to places unknown.

Natalie tosses him a buttery salute before turning back to Chaney. "I'm sure
      you do. And thank you for saying please. But you've got to work on your 
      English. So shift to homid first."

"Homid," Nat agrees, checking back out the sliding door - deserted - before
      taking a cruel bite of bagle. A cruel, not sharing with the cub bite of 
      toasty buttery bagle.

Many Faces lolls her tongue out and keeps it lolled as she shifts, and now
      Natalie has a naked auburn-haired teenage girl crouched on the floor at 
      her feet, staring hungrily up at her.

Natalie says "Good! Now, Chaney: say bagle. Baaaagle."

Chaney, open-mouthed, tongue poking out a bit, goes, "Aaaaauh."

Natalie shakes her head, though she smothers a laugh. "No, try again. Different
      sound, Chaney. See? Baaaagle. Chaaaaaney. Sounds the same. Try 
      baaaaaagle." Again she draws out the sound to give Chaney the best chance 
      at hearing (and repeating) it.

Chaney shifts her weight restlessly, fingers pressed against the floor between
      her bare feet. "Aaaahh!" The lupus attempts to mimic the sound again and 
      fails.

Natalie, again, shakes her head. "Aaaay. Baaaagle. Once more, kiddo.
      Aahhhh-eeee."

"Aah!" cries Chaney. "Ah! Ah!" And she lunges upward, making a grab for the
      bagel.

Natalie immediately lifts the bagle out of reach - damn her eyes - and snarls
      soundlessly. "Oh no you don't. /My/ bagle. /Mine/. You say /bagle/ -- 
      hell, even 'aaaaay' - and I'll give you more."

Chaney drops back down onto her butt, cowed and unhappy. "Ahh," she says, still
      not making the right sound, and looks hopeful.

"Aaaay," repeats Nat firmly. "That's aaaah, bath. I want aaaaay, bagle." And
      she makes shooing motions toward the parlor. "Go on, into the parlor. 
      We'll veg in front of the TV and eat pizza and stuff. Just no bagle."

And here Chaney likely surprises the Galliard by standing _up_ and _walking_
      out of the kitchen. Oh, she drops back to all fours and ape-scrambles the 
      rest of the way, and she looks terribly disappointed at the lack of 
      bagel, but she's made progress with _something_ this weekend.

Natalie pages: And lo, the evening is spent with Blues Clues, pizza, Pulp
      Fiction, and popcorn. All in homid, of course. There's surreal for you. ;)