6/30/04 01:14 PM Logfile from Chaney. It is currently 10:17 Pacific Time on Wed Jun 30 2004. Currently the moon is in the waxing Full Moon phase (86% full). On the second floor of the house, a toilet flushes. It's been doing that, with some regularity, all morning, sometimes with a full minute of silence in between. The door to Chaney's room is open, and the cub is not inside it. Marcus, who was downstairs in the parlour, has finally grown sick of the toilet flushing and so comes upstairs. He's no plumber, but perhaps he can shoot it or something. Natalie comes down the stairs from the third floor, dressed in work-out clothes and looking fairly sweaty. "Is she /still/...?" she asks the Philodox, only to be interrupted by another flush. Yup. She still is. The sound of creaking stairs can be heard and before too long, the figure of Emily can be seen. Its not entirely clear when she entered the house or where she's been but its clear that the toilet is annoying her as well. Though she does grimace when she spies Marcus ahead of her. "Chaney's doing that?" Long distance to Natalie: Chaney is, of course, assuming that Nat's shown Chaney what the toilet is for? Natalie pages to the room: There's a scene in there where the Mystical Indian Guru(tm) has been put up at the hotel. He finds the toilet and flushes it, and the phone rings. This is so much fun that he flushes again. The phone rings again. Lather, rinse, repeat. Natalie pages: You betcha. It was either 'Use the toilet, Chaney', or 'Pick up your own poop and put it in the garbage, Chaney'. Chaney, oblivious to the annoyance that she's causing, stands in the bathroom next to the toilet, her clothing discarded on the floor and forgotten for the moment. She watches the bowl re-fill with fascination, then tears off more toilet paper, wads it up, drops it in, and pushes the lever down again. Flush! You paged Natalie with 'Chaney opts for the toilet after seeing how much fun it is. Toilet training turns out to be easier than Nat hoped for. ;)'. "It would seem so." Marcus replies to Emily, having heard Natalie's words. "Anyway, I think it's time we put a stop to this." And so the Philodox strides off down the hall towards the bathroom. Damn lupus. Natalie sighs and heads after him, dropping Emily a nod. "CHANEY!" Her yell's not particularly angry, but it is loud enough to be heard over the plumbing. "Stop that. You come out here. -Now-." The rushing water fades off to the familiar gurgle. It takes some time, but before Natalie can yell again, the cub pokes her head out the open bathroom door. She takes one look at the elder and the approaching halfmoon and, eyes wide, ducks back out of view. Emily wisely sticks close to the stairway in case something goes badly. After all, she's more breakable than the rest of them are. And its much easier for her to hide the giggles that way. "Well, I can see she's used to doing what she's told." Marcus throws over his shoulder to Natalie. The Philodox, however, dosn't go inside the bathroom. He just stands there, arms folded, waiting. "She needs a babysitter, I think." "I don't particularly care what you think," Nat snaps as she elbows past the Philo to stand in the doorway. "Chaney," she says again, "You need to come out here. The toilet is -not- a toy." Chaney is, by the time the two older Garou reach the bathroom, attempting to put her t-shirt and cutoff sweats back on, though she's getting tangled more than getting dressed. "Uuuhhh," she says plaintively. "Might want to explain it in lupus since its pretty important," Emily offers from over by the stairs. "And if the worse that's happening in an increase in a water bill, we shouldn't be particularly upset." Marcus merely smirks at Natalie's snapping, aware that he's right and she knows it. "The worst that's happened is she's annoyed me all bloody day with that toilet." He comments, the water bill apparently not rating highly on his list of priorities. Natalie shakes her head and steps into the bathroom, scooping up the cub's shirt and helping her slip it on. "Oh for the love of Pete. Marcus, put a cork in it. Chaney... no, that's your... -give- me your arm." "Ah ah ahhmm," says Chaney meekly to Natalie. She's docile enough, letting the Galliard dress her, but is quite restless and edgy. Emily draws back a little further, so that only her head pokes around the corner. The rest of her is safely on the stairs. "She'll get it." Ever the optimist. Marcus leans on the doorframe, watching Natalie struggle with dressing Chaney. It's the funniest thing he's come across since learning Dirk's car was stolen, and it shows. "That's what they all say." Nat helps Chaney step into her carnation pink sweats, then turns to bestow on Marcus a glare. "What." Now all that can be seen is the blonde top of Emily's head and her eyes, carefully and cautiously observing the scene before her. Chaney, as Natalie turns to Marcus, leans over to lick her face and then attempts to dart away out of the bathroom. Marcus dosn't answer Natalie, he just smirks. The Philodox does however stick his foot out as Chaney makes a break for it. If she does get out, she won't be going far. Natalie takes two steps after Chaney and grabs for her shirt, but misses. Free! The cub is free! The cub is-- too busy avoiding Marcus' eyes to notice the foot, and she lets out a squeal as she finds herself flying, out of control. Before anyone can be particularly amused, though, the cub explodes in a mass of fur and claws, hitting the floor in Crinos and whirling to attack the nearest target in a blind rage. That being Marcus. There's a thudding almost tumbling sound as Emily runs for it down the stairs. She is both breakable and shreddable and actually ends up hidden in the elder's office, once people have a chance to go look for her. Marcus, being the nearest target, wasn't expecting that. So when the cub turns on him, there's an expression of cruel amusement frozen into his face. The Philodox likewise errupts into Crinos, trying to prevent Chaney from doing much damage before he can attack her himself. Many Faces This monsterous blend of wolf and woman is a creature of fur and muscle and rage. Standing fully erect, she's about nine feet tall, though her typical posture is a simian slouch with long, apelike arms hanging and huge hands close to the ground; this body is shaped for quadrupedal as well as bipedal locomotion. Wickedly sharp claws and massive teeth only add to the overall impression of physical power and probable violence. A long, thick mane of dark auburn starts at the top of Many Faces's wolfshaped head and continues down her long neck and over her broad shoulders. The rest of her pelt is, predominantly, a lighter reddish-brown, similar in hue to that of an Irish Setter. Both humanlike hands and wolfish feet are dark brown, as are her ear-tips, tail-tip, and the spots that rise up from her extremities to fade about halfway along each limb. Her jaw, throat, and belly are all a pale yellowish color, and above each blue eye is a small white spot. Her tail, when raised, curls like a husky's. A particularly disgusted, "/Hell/," is all Nat manages to get out before she too bursts up to Crinos. ~Get out of the way! Let me at her!~ Many Faces, by sheer luck, gets in the first blow while Marcus is shifting forms, a claw-strike that ruins the halfmoon's shirt. After that, she's out of luck, and her furious but unthinking and unskilled attacks don't get past Marcus' defenses. Remus This terrifying blend of man and wolf is a towering 9' tall, with a build to match. Covered in mottled fur made up of a variety of browns, this creature boasts fangs and claws an inch long and looks ready to use them. It seems to radiate anger and violence, despite the hint of intelligence somewhere beneath all the mindless rage that swirls in the creature's eyes. ~No.~ Remus replies with a growl. Evidently he plans on dealing with this himself. His shirt being ruined only makes him angrier. The moon dosn't help either. Pushing his advantadge home, the Philodox exploits the cub's lack of defence to do whatever damage he can. Holds-the-Line says, ~Dammit...~ but she doesn't try and push past him. Not now, not when he doesn't need distracting. ~You kill her and I'll kill you!~ Many Faces, as is typical of _Lycanthropis frenzius bezerkus_, doesn't seem to feel the pain when Remus' claws make their mark across her muzzle and neck. But either because of Natalie's warning or his own sense of mercy, the Philodox mostly uses his fists -- as if the claws were only so the cub would have something to remember. And it's not long before he batters Many Faces down to the point where the cub simply isn't able to fight anymore. Though, at the end, as she sprawls on her back on the scratched and bloodied hardwood floor, she lets out a weak half-hearted growl. Holds-the-Line's snarl, from within the tiled bathroom, is a far more fearsome and furious thing. The fact that it echoes so nicely doesn't hurt one little bit. Even Emily can probably hear it. Emily can hear all of that, thank you. That's why she's got her arms wrapped over her head and her eyes tightly closed. But that's still way downstairs. Remus ignores Natalie as he fights with Many Faces, only responding once the cub is on her back and growling. ~There. She is not dead, but she has learnt.~ The snarl apparently dosn't bother him. He can produce one just as nasty, even if his wouldn't echo. Many Faces, her rage ebbing as blood flows from the two fresh claw-marks, melts into her breed form and, whimpering, rolls over and attempts to skulk away with ears flat and tail tucked. From afar, to the room, Remus channels Jeremy, and looms over the skulking Chaney. ~Pwned~ The Philodox rumbles. Holds-the-Line elbows her way past Marcus - again - and out into the hallway, hurrying to catch up with the cub. One taloned hand drops inexorably onto the cub's neck, halting her, even as the Elder shifts back to her breed form. Marcus returns to his own breed form, surveying the damage. And his ruined shirt. Oh well, not to worry, he has many exactly the same in his wardrobe. Many Faces cringes as Natalie takes hold of her ruff and lets out a yelping whine, lips pulled back from her teeth in a fear-submission grimace. She snaps a few times, spraying drops of blood from her wounds. Natalie shakes the cub, completely heedless of those teeth, then gives her a shove. "/Bad/. Bad Chaney! You get back in your room /right now/!" "...Go... find Emily." She adds in an aside over her shoulder. "Tell her we're not dead." Marcus nods, heading downstairs to do just that. Shortly after he vanishes from sight he can be heard roaming around calling the Kin's name. Many Faces, once released, heads off to her room at top speed, tail firmly tucked and body low. Once there, she curls up very small in the far corner (the one without newspaper -- though since Nat showed her the toilet, the newspaper hasn't been used) and licks at her bleeding muzzle. In the doorway Nat shifts yet again, this time into the far-less terrifying lupus aspect. She still holds herself sternly, but with a definite sympathetic edge. Many Faces. Do you know what you did? Emily's eventual emergence is rather reluctant, the faint squeaking of the elder's door hinting of her hiding place. She doesn't say anything and instead stares longingly at the door. Many Faces whimpers. Bad. Very bad. Try hurt Does Something To Rules While Happy. Shift outside of room. Very very very bad. No more toys. Marcus is apparently unusually sympathetic. "It's ok, nobody died. Everything's fine now." He notes the Kin's stare. "You want to go?" You will lose toys, yes, the alpha agrees, padding into the room. But not right now. Now you are bleeding and hurt. She settles down, sphinx-like, in the center of the room. If you come here I will lick your hurts and we will talk. "Yeah." Emily moves past him toward the parlor, where her purse rests by a chair. "Let Cat know I came by, in case he's wondering. I think I have a place for us to look, now all we need are the papers." She keeps her eyes down as she talks, heading for the door. Many Faces crawls forward toward the Galliard, looking as sad and sorry as a cub can look. "That's good, the papers are easily obtained." Marcus replies, nodding to the comment about letting Cat know. The Philodox watches Emily go, but makes no move to go father then the door himself. Holds-the-Line's tongue swipes at Chaney's muzzle, then settles into a thorough cleaning. What you did - when you got mad - that is called frenzy. It is not good to frenzy. It will make you break the rules. Yes. Emily's wheels do squeal as she leaves. Why do you ask? Many Faces whimpers. Ow. Ow. Ow. Hurt. Marcus makes sure the doors shut loudly, so that Natalie is aware that at least one person has left. Soon I will let you shift, and then you will heal. Holds-the-Line settles a paw over Chaney's to keep her from wriggling away and continues to lick. When you have hurts, you should shift to a form that is not lupus, and you will heal faster. It takes strong things to make us hurt and keep hurting. Do you remember the knife in the barn? And the glass on Sun-Hair's floor? Many Faces remembers, though she's not happy about it. Hurt. It hurt. This hurts _more_. Holds-the-Line gives the cub one last swipe with her tongue. It hurts more because Remus is strong. Fire and silver are strong, too. You will not heal the hurts Remus gave you as fast as you healed from the glass. Many Faces's own tongue swipes out to lick the hurt on her muzzle, then attempts to lick the wound on her neck, without success. Fire bad hurt. Silver bad hurt. Remus bad hurt. Holds-the-Line considers the cub, then stands. Any Garou who bites or claws you will make hurts you cannot heal quickly. Now. Shift to homid and we will choose which toys you lose. Many Faces transforms very slowly, ending up as a crouched and sad-looking human girl. One that looks like she's been bitchslapped by a cougar. When you shifted, you also scared Sun-Hair, Holds-the-Line continues inexorably. Lay on that guilt! If you hadn't scared her, she would come and help you with your hurts now. You will have to be very nice to Sun-Hair the next time you see her. Chaney's face crumples into an expression of pure misery, and she whimpers again even as blood seeps out from the wounds to stain the nice pink cotton of her t-shirt. Holds-the-Line considers the cub and sighs. You go choose two toys to lose and I will choose two toys. Then you go to the bathroom and wait there while I put them away. Do /not/ do what you were doing before. Then I will bandage your hurts and we will go find Remus. Chaney sniffles, blinking rapidly as tears leak out the corners of her eyes and meekly goes about to fetch toys. The concept of numbers isn't quite one she's grasped, though, but she understands 'more than one' and eventually takes up no less than _five_ of them -- firetruck, Little Leap, the Clock Blocks, the Kong chewtoy, and the Triangle Stacker. Holds-the-Line pads over to join her, toenails clicking. That is not two. That is more than two. She considers the handful of toys for a moment, then nudges Little Leap at the girl's foot. You may keep this one. I will take the rest you have chosen. Now go wait in the bathroom, Many Faces. Chaney snatches up Little Leap, giving it an accidental squeeze ("Z sounds like zoo!"), and takes it with her to the bathroom at a hunched-over trot. Once there, she sits down on the fuzzy bath-mat and (still in homid) chews on one of the froggie's eyes and sniffles. Natalie makes short work of gathering up the other toys and taking them... somewhere down the hall. She checks on Chaney as she goes past - offering a, 'Good girl' - but heads to the top of the stairs where she calls a questioning, "Marcus? Hello, anyone there?" Marcus, who is downstairs, looks up the stairs. "Yeah, I'm here. What do you need?" "S sounds like snake!" says Little Leap from the bathroom. "T sounds like tiger!" "I'm just checking on you and Emily," Nat calls back. "You two all right? I've gotta get Chaney bandaged up, then I think this afternoon it's cub-tending by television." "She's gone home." Marcus replies. "She was quite scared." The Philodox actually sounds worried about the Kin, incredibly. "Cub-tending by television? Sounds like something I should make myself scarce for." "U sounds like umbrella! V sounds like vase!" "...Hell." Nat calls back. "Why am I not surprised you'd say that? ...But... sure, whatever. Go find her, make sure we didn't spook her into doing something stupid." The Galliard sounds like she could use a nap - or some sort of highly alcoholic beverage. "...Hell." And with that poignant commentary she heads back to Chaney's bathroom. "No." Marcus replies with a shake of his head. "She will not do anything stupid. But she needs to be away from us for a bit. Me going after her now is stupid. I will call her later, perhaps." "W sounds like witch!" says Little Leap as Natalie walks into the bathroom, and a sad and bloody Chaney looks up, her lower lip sticking out and her blue eyes all watery. She sniffles. Natalie, when she finally returns to the bathroom, wordlessly crosses to the medicine cabinet, there to fetch out a box of bandaids and some gauze. She considers the cub, opening her mouth to say something, but sighs and closes it again without saying anything. She applies herself to sponging Chaney's wounds with water after first wiping her nose with a handful of toilet paper. Marcus mills around downstairs, for lack of anything else to do. Chaney flinches and tries to pull away at first, and then settles down, fingers gripping the talky frog tightly. Eventually - perhaps ten or so minutes later - a still very subdued Chaney and Natalie come downstairs. Chaney's bandaged properly, with gauze and tape over the worst of the wounds, and bandaids for the rest. Nat gets the cub and frog settled into the parlor and starts flipping through channels, looking for Noggin. You'd think she'd have it memorized by now. Chaney curls up on the couch, knees pulled to her chest and Little Leap hugged close to her. With wide, liquidy eyes, she watches Natalie and teeths on the frog's left eye. Marcus is in the parlour, although he does come out once he's aware there are others downstairs. Once he realises Natalie really is going to subject the cub to kiddie's TV, the Philodox vanishes into the kitchen. Natalie finally finds the proper channel and gives another sigh, this one tinged with relief. "There you go, kiddo. I'm gonna go get something to eat. You and..." She regards the screen. It's currently featuring a bald kid with a head two times the size of the rest of his body. "...and the TV have fun. I'll be back." Pocketing the remote, she heads to the kitchen herself. Yes, 'first of the kill to the greatest in station' applies to the remote, too. Chaney, like any modern child, is soon absorbed in the bright colors and images, and even her sniffles and tears dry up. Marcus looks up when Natalie enters the kitchen, but dosn't say anything. His shirt is still wrecked, too. "Remus," the Galliard acknowledges bleakly, dropping a nod to his shirt. She's still wandering around in her own ruined workout clothes - her shoes were lost somewhere upstairs. "Aren't cubs fun?" She hitches a ruined and tattered bit of sleeve up onto her shoulder. "I'm thinking it's a three-martini lunch sort of day, don't you?" "Cubs are the best sort of fun." Marcus smirks somewhat. "Cubs are the reason I don't intend on having children." And really, isn't everyone glad to hear that? "But yes, I would agree. Three-martini lunch at least." Nat's bit of sleeve slithers off her shoulder again as soon as she lets go, but she doesn't seem to notice - or care. "Good. Make 'em." Into the fridge she dives, rustling around in the various drawers and shelves. Marcus does so, going about his buisness with a certain amount of expertise. When he's done, there are in fact five martinis. Apiece. Plus one, oddly enough, that stands alone. The Philodox did /not/ just make a martini for Chaney. Did he? Natalie, meanwhile, whacks up hunks of cheese into bite-sized pieces and nukes a scant handful of hotdogs. She eyes the martinis as he makes them, but doesn't comment until her little tray - cheese and hot dogs chunked, with crackers on the side - is ready. "...Correct me if my math is wrong, but eleven is a far sight more than six." "Hmmm?" Marcus looks like he's been absorbed in his work. "Oh. Yes, yes I suppose it is. But I did say at least. Besides, you never know who might turn up." "...Are you expecting someone?" Nat shakes her head, and sets the tray down on the table before returning to the cupboards. "Forgot Chaney's water. Damn it, I need a drink. I need a damn day /off/." "No, but maybe Emily will come back." Marcus shrugs. "A day off? I was not aware that was an option." The Philodox observes, although he dosn't seem opposed to the idea. "It's not," Nat snaps, cutting herself off as she fills Chaney's glass - pink plastic - at the tap. "...Gah. Sorry." Tap turns off, and she heads back to the tray. "It's not. Yet. If ever. Me taking a day off means that I think you can handle covering for me. And since we have Chaney..." Chaney's eyes have stopped leaking. Her nose, too. Cartoons soothe the savage beast. Especially Blue and her buddy Joe. "Chaney knows her place, now." Marcus snorts. "But, given that, you will never take a day off. We have too many differences in...thought for either of us to be happy leaving the other in charge of their stuff." Natalie says "Touche," conceding the point as she lifts the tray. "And on that note, I'm taking Chaney her lunch. If I'm so lucky as to pass out later, I'm expecting a delivery of a bed for Chaney. Put it together if you feel kind; leave it for me if you don't." "Have you ever known me to be kind?" Marcus asks Natalie. It's not exactly a 'no, I won't', however. Natalie's response is a half-bitter, half-amused, "A girl's gotta have a dream." Then she and her tray are out into the hall and heading for the TV room. "Lunchtime, Chaney." On the TV, disembodied children's voices tell Joe that there's a CLUE, because Joe somehow missed the big blue paw-print on the ladder behind him. "Ah," states Chaney in mumbly fashion. Marcus snorts. "Well I invite you to dream on, Natalie." He replies, sipping a martini and wincing at the voices. How he hates that TV recently. You paged the room with 'Chaney's going to be quiet and subdued for most of the rest of the day. :> Marcus is a meaniehead.'. Marcus pages to the room: Marcus is going to sit in the kitchen and drink. What a dysfunctional household.