7/5/04 10:58 AM Logfile from Chaney. It is currently 08:01 Pacific Time on Mon Jul 5 2004. Currently the moon is in the waning Full Moon phase (81% full). Marcus is downstairs, in the kitchen. He's not currently eating or preparing anything, although the remains of what seem to be a chicken-based meal are on the table. Bare feet almost, though not quite, soundless on the hardwood floors, Chaney comes downstairs, empty-handed for once. The cub doesn't slouch _quite_ as much as she used to when on two legs, and she's probably had a bath in, oh, the last few days or so. The dark auburn hair remains long and unbrushed, though, reaching well past her middle-back. The stairs are taken slowly, and once at the bottom she looks this way and that, nostrils flaring as she sniffs. When she gets moving again, it's toward the kitchen. Marcus gets that sense of not quite being alone, and glances over towards the door. That's when he catches sight of the lupus coming towards him. "Chaney." It's a cross between a drawl and a sneer. Wide blue eyes blink at the older Glass Walker, and the freckled face is wary. Her mouth stretches in a tight-lipped smile, mimicking what she's seen the others do without showing her teeth. The expression is awkward, though, and affected. Her gaze never lingers long on any part of the halfmoon and she avoids his eyes. Smiling cruelly, Marcus dosn't bother to hide his teeth. He's now able to see first hand what Natalie meant when she said his treatment of Chaney confused the cub. Family, after all, isn't supposed to act like this. Socialized to humans as she is -- unlike a purely wild wolf -- Chaney knows about smiling-with-teeth, even if she seems reluctant to do it herself. What she doesn't seem to get is how Marcus might mean it nastily after all... and though she continues to look unsure of the halfmoon, that he smiles back at all brings about some easing of tension in the cub. Her mouth parts and, after a couple of quick pants, she says, "Saaaaaaaay-ee." Marcus seems rather shocked. That was practically a recognisable word. So certain is the Philodox that Chaney will fail, it takes him a moment to recover his composure. "Say? You want to say something?" Chaney licks her lips. "Ssssaaay-en-NEE." She shifts her weight a bit, looking like a child desperate for approval. "Saaaaaynnn-ee." "Saaaaayn-ee?" The Philodox ponders this for a moment. "Chaney?" He almost falls off his chair. "You said your own name, or pretty damn close." Chaney brightens at her name; this does indeed seem to be what she was trying to say. "Saaaayn-ee," she says again, just to show off. "Ch." Marcus replies, emphasising with his lips how he's making the sound. "Chaaaayn-ee." Chaney's best effort is a curt sounding noise that's closer to 'sh' than 'ch'. "Sh! Sh-aaaaayn-ee." She breathes quickly though her mouth, like a panting dog only without the tongue. "Well I never." Marcus shakes his head somewhat, almost disbelievingly. "Well, I never." He looks over to Chaney and is forced to offer a grudging "Well done, kid." He privately didn't even believe she'd get this far. The cub bounces slightly. "Sh-aaaaayn-ee," she says again, showing off. "Sh-aaaaayn-ee!" Her expression seems to say, Look how smart I am! Marcus watches thoughtfully, almost appraisingly. "The hand that rocks the cradle, rules the world." The Philodox murmurs under his breath, before smiling brightly. "Good girl. Very clever." If the lupus isn't going to fail, then he'll have to make sure she's more his child than Natalie's. Chaney is a sucker for praise, that much is clear. "Sh-aaayyn-ee," she says again, happily, and heads over toward Marcus' chair. She stops a couple of feet away and holds herself still. "Sh-aaayn-ee," she tells him deliberately, pauses a beat, screws up her face, and manages a very rough -- more due to the limitations of human throat than anything else -- ~Many Faces.~ Marcus manages to keep the smile in place, despite his suprise. "Excellent. Good girl. Now try Ch." Again the Philodox exagerates the way he forms the sound. "Ch-aaayn-ee." Chaney licks her lips and shifts her weight again, mildly agitated. "Sh." She knows it's not the right sound; even human ears can tell that. Her eyebrows lower as she tries again. "_Sh_." "Perhaps you're more intelligent than Natalie thinks." Marcus murmurs with a self-indulgent smile. "And I'd willing to bet that's her now." He ponders this for a moment. "Chaney, sit down." He indicates a chair. The footsteps stop at the second floor; the floor creaks just past Chaney's door as it has always done. Chaney sits as ordered. All the times that Nat's brought her down for dinner have taught the lupus the proper, human way of sitting on a chair. Under Marcus' eye, she even refrains from pulling her knees up to her chest. She sits stiffly, hands gripping the seat, her eyes riveted on the halfmoon, attentive. "Good." Marcus smiles, then takes up the chicken bone left over from his earlier lunch and begins to cooly, calmly, give the impression that he's just finishing off a meal. Now to wait for Natalie. Chaney's eyes track down to the nearly-empty plate in front of Marcus. She licks her lips, but stays quiet and mostly still. A bit of restless wiggling in the chair, that's all. Keeping the chicken bone for himself Marcus, after a moment of consideration, pushes his plate over to Chaney. Luckily it's all finger food, and nothing too messy. From upstairs there is silence. Lupine ears - if there were any - would be able to catch the sound of someone moving around in Nat's room. Chaney wiggles in her chair again, giving Marcus a look of utter adoration. Then she turns to the plate. Her table manners are still less than savory, but at least she's stopped trying to push her face into her food. She still has a tendency to try to eat as much as she can, as fast as she can. The look of adoration makes Marcus smile. Perhaps this will be easier than he thought. If he's going to be adored as well as feared, it might not even be as painful as he thought. Deciding not to comment on manners for now, the Philodox continues to toy with the chicken bone. The pieces of ham are devoured in short order, and then the salad. Once the plate's empty, Chaney rubs her fingers around in whatever juices and dressing-remnants remain and sucks them clean in a way that could be misinterpreted as lascivious. Marcus dosn't notice the finger-sucking, or dosn't comment if he does. He's merely sitting there, making his presence felt. And waiting for Natalie, of course. Natalie - if that's who it is upstairs - continues to fail to make an appearance. Chaney does her best to make sure the plate is completely cleaned of anything remotely food-like, though she has to visibly resist the urge to bend down and lick it. Finally, tongue licking at her lips and the corners of her mouth, she looks at Marcus. "Sh-aaaayn-ee." "Good girl." Marcus nods and smiles, while mentally wondering how long this is going to be Chaney's only word for. It does, after all, get a little monotonous. Chaney licks her lips again. "Sh-aaaayn-ee." She pauses, thinking, then adds, "Ehnnnn-ah. Nnnnah! Nnah!" "Nah?" Marcus frowns as he tries to work out what this one could be. "Nat?" Upstairs he can hear the shower, and is careful now to do nothing that could be interpreted as teaching. "Nnnah!" Chaney echoes, all bright-eyed and proud of herself. "Good girl." Marcus smiles, while thinking hard. Natalie said she wasn't planning to teach English yet. The inescapable, and worrying, conclusion is that the cub is doing this herself. Watch the gears in the lupus cub's head turn. Marcus doesn't like her. She talks human-talk, and now Marcus _does_ like her! "Nnah, Nnah, Nnah," she babbles at him. "Nnah, Saaayn-ee." Whoops, she dropped the 'sh'. Marcus could never have foreseen this flaw in his latest plan. Serves him right, really. Nodding, and keeping the smile fixed in place, he listens to Chaney babble on. Chaney stops after another moment and tilts her head, looking curiously at Marcus. "Saayyn-ee," she says, and then looks at him expectantly. "Good girl." The Philodox smiles a little more brightly. "Chaney." He repeats her name, as though to confirm he understands what she means. "Uhd uh'l." The cub mimics the tone of the way Marcus says 'good girl' better than she does the actual sounds. Then, with a careful and deliberate air, she says, "Nnah." A beat. "Ssaaaayn-ee." Then another beat. She cocks her head, looking questioningly at him, and still expectant. "Marcus." The Philodox says, wondering if that's what she's expecting. The fact she echoed what he said, or at least the tone, suprises him. Glancing upwards at the creek, Marcus waits for whoever is up there to finally come down. Chaney looks upwards, too, though only for a moment. What's happening right here-and-now is more important to the cub. Her brow furrows. "Aah-ehss," she echoes, again getting the tone better than the sounds. Then, more slowly, concentrating hard, "Mmmmmah-ehsss. Mmah-ehsss." Upstairs, there is silence. Not even the sound of water dripping. At least, nothing but silence to homid ears. "Intriguing..." Marcus murmurs, smiling at Chaney thoughtfully. The fact the cub appears to be doing this on her own, off her own bat, is puzzling to the Philodox. Chaney mimicks that, too, though it's completely garbled into vaguely similar vowel sounds. "Eheeeeee-eh." The blue eyes blink. Then, "Mmmah-ehss. Mmmaaaaah-ehsss." "Indeed." Marcus smiles indulgently. This is going to be a long...however long it is until Chaney gets over this phase. Chaney shifts about in her chair, checks out her empty plate, and then looks toward the fridge, which she's not yet been allowed to open. The cub licks her lips and turns to Marcus. "Ssaaayn-ee." "Yes, Chaney." Marcus agrees, given that's who the cub is. "Remind me never, ever to have children." The Philodox murmurs to himself. This time the creak is followed, moments later, by the sound of more footsteps, this time coming downstairs. Chaney licks her lips again, then experimentally starts getting up out of the chair. Marcus considers stopping Chaney, then sits back in his chair. Here comes the mysterious creak. Chaney, receiving no command to sit back down, stands and heads over to stand by the fridge. Her fingers twitch, and she appeals to Marcus with big blue eyes and an earnest expression. "Mmmah-ess. Mmmah-ess." Nat arrives in the front hall as anticipated, the Galliard's path swinging her around the newel post and back toward the kitchen. She's freshly showered - or at least has wet hair. "What?" Marcus looks over to where Chaney is. "Oh....." The Philodox sighs. This whole being a parent thing isn't easy. Perhaps his respect for Natalie even rises a little. Getting up from his seat, he heads over towards the fridge. "What the heck am I supposed to feed you?" Natalie is forgotten for a moment. Chaney bounces a little, excited as any teenage girl might be.. "Mmah-ehss, Mmah-ess, Ssaayn-ee." She pauses. "Ayyy. Ayyyy-uh'l." Natalie appears in the kitchen doorway. Her eyebrows rise but she remains silent. "Ayyyy-uh'l?" Marcus shakes his head. "You can't eat the mail, Chaney. And I don't know what else you could....Oh, hey Natalie. I don't suppose /you/ know what an Ayyyy-uh'l is?" The Philodox turns to acknowledge the other Walker. Chaney turns, brightening at sight of Natalie, though she doesn't leave her spot next to the fridge. "Nnah! Nnah, Mmah-ehss!" "Marcus," Natalie greets him coolly - no doubt she suspects Nefarious Deeds - before turning to Chaney in surprise. "What did you say? Did you just say 'Marcus'?" "Mmmah-ehss, Mmah-ehss!" the cub replies happily, all proud of herself. "I rather think she did." Marcus comments to Natalie. "She came in here while I was sitting eating, and proceeded to say something that sounded very like Chaney repeatedly. Then she moved onto saying what I believe is Nat. And now, she seems to be making an effort at Marcus. I thought you weren't teaching her English yet?" Natalie waggles a hand as she crosses to join the cub at the fridge. "She's picking things up. Aren't you, kiddo? Taslyn was here, hmn, Saturday night, and things just started to click. Remember Taslyn, Chaney? And the painting?" "Taslyn?" Marcus frowns, not familiar with the name. "Anyway, she's hungry. And she seems to want one of these...Ayyyy-uh'ls." "Dahss," says Chaney, apparantly remembering the Fianna. Or responding to the name. "Dahs, Ssaayyn-ee. Nnah. Mmah-ehss." She licks her lips. "Aayy-uhl." "-Buh-," the Galliard says clearly. "Buh, buh, buh. Bagel." She throws the Philo a triumphant grin over her shoulder before reaching for the refrigerator door. "Can't open it with you in the way, Chaney. Want a bagel? With peanut butter?" Marcus turns away from Chaney and Natalie when he sees the grin, so neither of them can see the sour expression on his face. Then he goes back to watching the two interact. Chaney chatters, "Buh, buh, buh," back at the Galliard as she backs off from the fridge. Then, more than a little exuberent, she jogs over toward Marcus and, for lack of a better word, gambols about him. "Buh, buh, buh." Natalie, her head in the fridge, agrees, "Bagle. With peanut butter. Or, hmn, maybe cheese? Marcus you want anything?" "Indeed Chaney, Buh." Marcus replies indulgently, watching the lupus gambol about him. Oh, how he despises gamboling. Ahem. "No thank you Natalie, I already ate." Chaney refrains, thankfully, from coming into physical contact with the Philodox, as if sensing how unwanted that would be. "Buh buh buh." She heads back over to her chair and sits down, staring bright-eyed at Nataliee. Natalie backs out of the fridge with a whole mess of stuff in her hands - a bag of bagles, butter, cheese, and a tomato. No juice, though. "Up to you. You want to tell her what all this stuff is while I make us some lunch?" "Alright." Marcus agrees, suprised as Natalie plays into his hands by inviting him to teach the lupus something. "Bagle." He says, showing one to Chaney. Then "Butter", "Cheese", and "Tomato". Then it's back to "Bagle." The Philodox waiting to hear what Chaney can make of it all. Chaney wiggles in her chair, restless under the still-fat moon and in the presence of food. "Buh-aaay'uhl." Natalie plops the makings onto the cutting board and goes to town, slicing bagle and tomato, then whacking off slices of cheese as well. "If we had any lettuce I'd make her a BLT, but, well, we don't. So bagle, cheese and tomato it is." "Buh-aaaay-g'uhl." Marcus emphasies each part, especially the hard g which Chaney dosn't seem to be getting. Chaney's attention is split between Marcus and Natalie -- a desire to impress and please on the one hand, and food on the other. "Buh. Aaaayyy. Uhl." Natalie plops one bagle into the toaster and fetches the peanut butter from the pantry. Unsurprisingly, Roach Mansion is going through a lot more peanut butter suddenly. "Buh-aaaayyy-/g/uhl." Marcus repeats encourgingly. This is going to be slow going, unless the cub can master the harder sounds such as g, and c. "Buh-aaaaaayyyy-_uhl_," mimicks the cub, clearly trying her very very best. "Cheese," the Galliard interrupts. "Cheese, Chaney." She turns at the counter, hands bracing back behind herself. "Cheeese." Marcus falls silent, letting Natalie take over. Chaney licks her lips. "Sssss... sss-ehaaaayy-sss." Natalie says "Very good. Come get a bite of cheese, Chaney." Marcus silently watches, interested to see what Chaney makes of cheese. Chaney hops up, almost knocking the chair over in the process, and bounces with teenage-girl/young-wolfdog energy over to Natalie. "Ssaaayn-ee," she says happily, taking one of the pieces of cheese and stuffing it into her mouth. She chews it maybe twice before swallowing and seems to find it more than acceptable. "Ssaaayn-ee." Natalie sends the cub back to her chair with another slice of cheese before beginning to clean up her lunch-making mess. "I told you she was smart," she tells Marcus, her back to the Philo as she cleans. "Did she pick up 'Marcus' on her own?" "Pretty much." Marcus replies, not commenting on the intelligence. "She kept repeating her name and looking at me like she was expecting something. I couldn't figure out what until eventually I said my name, and away she went." "Feel like the damn Miracle Worker," is Nat's good-natured comment as she heads back to the fridge with the bagles and cheese. "I may take her out to the Bawn for a couple of days so she gets this same sort of exposure to Mother's Tongue. Plus Megan still hasn't gotten to meet her." The fridge door closes with a slurp and Nat beams at her cub. "At least one thing's going right." Chaney has polished off her cheese in short order and sucks her fingers clean, one by one. She seems unable to sit still in her chair. There's no comment from Marcus, who is busy watching the squirming Chaney. "Am I the only one who dosn't ever want to have children after experiencing life with this one?" Natalie corrects, "This isn't a child, this is a cub. Big difference." She crosses to retrieve the toasted bagle, then brings the entire meal fixins - toasted and untoasted bagle, cheese, tomato and peanut butter - over to the table. "Does Emily know?" "Not true at all." Marcus replies. "She may as well be a child, being lupus." Then he looks over to the Galliard sharply. "Does Emily know what?" Chaney, ignoring the talk, scoots to the edge of her chair and leans forward, watching the food avidly. "That you don't want children." She claims half the toasted bagle for herself, as well as cheese and tomato, then pushes the rest to the cub. "Have you two discussed it?" My my, but she sounds calm about it. Marcus' anger rises several degrees, and the temperature of his voice drops several. "Why would we discuss it?" He bites down the 'and what buisness of it is yours' rant. For now. Chaney's reach for the toasted bagel is paused; she glances up at Marcus, then Natalie, then Marcus again, sensing the sudden tension. Natalie's quick movements give away what her voice doesn't - that she too is getting twitchy from the tension. "Because I think Emily would like to decide if she's having children or not." "I was not aware." Marcus begins, his stare fixed on Natalie. "That Emily and I had decided we were going to have children together." Chaney squirms in her seat. Still eyeing the two, she snatches the untoasted bagel and starts eating it in big bites. Natalie looks up just then, her gaze locking with his. "Neither had I. Back off, Marcus. Trying to make conversation." "There's a difference between making conversation and getting involved in my personal affairs." Marcus points out, controlling his temper for now. Chaney bites and chews mechanically, her eyes wide behind the long, tangled hair. "Not necessarily," Nat answers, frowning. "At least you're not trying to deny it any more." "When did you become so interested in what Emily and I do in our personal time, anyway?" Marcus asks, semi-defensively. Natalie says "I thought you didn't want to talk about it anymore." Her eyes twitch narrower. "Drop your eyes, Marcus, unless you want this to go somewhere I don't think you'll enjoy." "No." Marcus replies. "You started it. You drop your eyes." Chaney's mouth is full, the last quarter of the bagel still in her hand. Her chewing slows. When she swallows, she doesn't immediately take another bite. This, then, would be the vaunted logic of the Philodox. "Marcus," the Elder growls warningly, her head dropping slightly but her eyes remaining locked on his. Lunch? Cub? Nothing like that here. "This has nothing to do with who started what, and everything to do with who runs this damn Tribe. I'm not telling you again." "And neither am I." Marcus replies. He's not giving up on this one. He's going to take every oppertunity he gets, and if Natalie wants to turn this into an issue, then fine. Chaney breathes quickly through her mouth and, still holding her untoasted bagel-with-peanut-butter, gets out of the chair and retreats from the kitchen. Natalie not only appears to want to turn this into an issue, she has turned it into an issue. Chaney's departure doesn't even cause the Galliard to twitch an eyelash. She snarls, once, then falls silent again. Marcus echoes the snarl, keeping his eyes locked on Natalie's. If he's aware of Chaney's depature he dosn't show it. The Philodox seems a little less sure of himself than the Galliard, though. Meanwhile, Chaney wanders into the parlor and climbs onto the couch to quietly and nervously finish the rest of her bagel. Natalie silently pulls her lips off her teeth, her eyes boring into the man's darker ones. She many not have any sort of breeding on her side, but that doesn't lessen her confidence one iota. That's where the Walkers are, in some ways, more equal. None of them have any breeding, really. Eventually Marcus gives in angrily, and it's clear it's only temporary. If he can't defeat Natalie this way, he'll have to be more cunning. Natalie settles back into her chair with a satisfied huff. "I want to talk to Paul in the near future - I haven't seen him in the last few days. I assume you're..." Her eyes drift over to where the cub /should/ be, and she shoots Marcus a 'what have you done with the body' look. "Chaney?" she calls, half-rising from her chair. "Where are you?" Marcus dosn't reply, on any counts. He just rolls his eyes at the look, and settles down into one of the chairs. Chaney appears some few moments later in the kitchen doorway, empty-handed and with a few crumbs on her t-shirt. Natalie relaxes immediately on seeing the cub unbloodied. "There you are, kiddo. Come on back, sit down." She pats the empty chair encouragingly. "Anyway, about Paul. I know he's busy, but I'd like to talk to him about, well, a will." "A will?" Marcus' eyes are sharp as he considers this, expression guarded. "A will for you, or someone else?" Chaney guardedly returns to her chair and sits obediently, hands gripping the edge of the seat between her knees. "For me, of course." Nat layers cheese and tomato on top of her bagle and has a bite. "I've got some things that'll need, hmn, distributing when I go. ...Good girl, Chaney," she adds, offering a slice of tomato over. "Eat some tomato." "You're planning on going?" Marcus smiles darkly, shaking his head. "I know our life is uncertain, but why suddenly decide to make a will?" Chaney eats the slice of tomato. Or, rather, she starts to, then makes a face and takes it out of her mouth and drops it back on the table. "Because of something I've just... gotten... Gotten," Nat answers, quellingly. "Chaney... oh hell, never mind." Back to Marcus. "Anyway, why should it matter to you? If you really want my mitre-saw, now's the time to speak up." "I know a mitre is a type of hat, but beyond that..." Marcus shrugs, indicating he neither knows or cares. He's far more interested in what she's just gotten. Chaney continues to make 'yuck' faces, sticking her tongue out and rubbing her hand on it to get the taste off. Natalie snorts her amusement at both of them. "Miter-saw," she corrects. "Not a bishop's miter. It cuts beveled edges. Chaney, have more cheese if you don't like it. You don't try to rub off your tongue." "Ah, I see." Marcus apparently couldn't care less what the thing does. "Very well, I'll let Paul know you want to draw up a will." Chaney seems to like cheese more than tomato -- very much more, in fact. She's apparantly starting to feel satiated, though, and isn't as interested in a second slice after that. The all-too-familiar signs of restlessness set in; she steals little glances toward the hallway. "I appreciate it." She finishes her own sandwich and considers them both in turn. "Marcus, I need to patrol this afternoon. Have Chaney show you her fingerpaints and give you her introduction in Mother's Tongue. ...Or is that going to be a problem?" Her tone suggests that it had better not be. "Actually, I was going to go to the shooting range." Marcus replies cooly. However, it does fit rather nicely in with his new plan. "But of course I'll spend time with my favorite niece." The Philodox smiles brightly. [Alas, Natalie grows suspicious of Marcus' interest, and Marcus ends up going to the shooting range after all.]