It is currently 23:44 Pacific Time on Sat Jul 10 2004. Currently the moon is in the waning Half Moon phase (43% 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. Rina pages: I can provide something curious to investigate? Rina pages: Has she been exposed to the magic of TV yet? You paged Rina with 'Under supervision, yeah. She hasn't yet gotten a chance to play with the magic thing that makes the pictures, though (the remote).'. You paged Rina with 'Blue's Clues and Pulp Fiction one night with Nat, with popcorn. Heh. Chaney likes 'splosions. :>'. There's a strange, pulsing light coming from the parlor downstairs, altered occasionally by flickers of shadow. Rina is half-dozing on the couch, her iBook merrily making screensaver pictures that light a small area with color. Chaney, sneaking out of her room while Natalie's asleep, pad-pads down the stairs on bare feet, dressed in the pink kitten t-shirt and pink cutoff sweats that she always wears. She's gotten another bath in the past few days, probably, but her auburn hair still hangs long and wild, past mid-back. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Chaney stands still, head cocked, then makes her way quietly into the parlor and toward the source of the pulsing light. Rina starts into alertness, sitting up and twisting toward the door instinctively--either not asleep at all, or only lightly drowsing. Startlement gives way to a smile, touched with that aura of sadness and fatigue which always seems to hang about her like cloud cover. "Hey," she says hoarsely. "Wanna come look?" Dark-brown eyes, touched with amber, look out from a pixie-sharp face. Rina's skin is fair, but not quite pale--a light Mediterranean olive from generations of pure Italian ancestry. Her black-brown hair is left just long enough in the front to fall almost into her eyes; the butch cut tapers to an army-short buzz at the sides and back, hardly more than a velvet fuzz covering the nape of her neck. Her chin is delicately-boned, her mouth small, the line of her jaw well-defined. Her eyes have a shadowy, bruised look, either from fatigue or the artful use of makeup; save for that Gothic touch, she might have stepped from a pre-Raphaelite painting. She can't be more than twenty-five or so, but in that youthful face the eyes are cynical, brooding, world-weary. Athletic grace and a certain streetwise confidence show in her movements, but there is often an element of tension as well. A black barbed-wire tattoo encircles her neck, and matching inked bracelets are visible on her wrists. There is another marking visible at the nape of her neck, not ink but a scarred-in symbol that looks as if it was branded into her skin. (page for details if taking a closer look) Sinfully tight black PVC pours over the slight curve of her hips; the shiny jeans descend into knee-high thrash boots with buckles up the sides. A black mesh shirt, with only a plain black bra under it for decency, fails to conceal her scars: the X on the back of her left shoulder, the two matching bullet marks at the front and back of her right, the thin lines of whipping or cutting laid in neat rows across her back. Across her stomach, raised scarring traces a single word, neat square capitals centered on the pierced navel: ANGEL. A traditional biker jacket in black leather, at least two sizes too big, adds a layer of toughness to the petite woman's attire. Several patches of electrical tape and a small plate of discarded circuit board patch a few holes and rips in the leather: the front and back of both shoulders, and a spot near her waist on the left. There are more additions to the traditional biker body armor: scraps of circuit board, metal spikes and rivets, and a pair of mismatched vambraces that make her look like some sort of Mad Max knight errant. She wears two rings, both a silvery white gold. Her right hand bears a single diamond framed by two smaller ones, the decorative work on the ring elegant and subtle, perhaps Art Deco. On the left she wears a simpler band decorated with letters and scrollwork. Chaney's nostrils flare a few times, and the cub twists her mouth into a vague and unnatural-looking approximation of a smile. "Aay," she chirps, coming over to plop down on the couch next to Rina. Ocean waves fade out and fade in, the colors forming those weird patterns of light. Rina turns toward her guest, tucking a leg up onto the couch. When she smiles, her teeth don't usually show; her expressions are quieter, subdued most of the time. "Nice PJs," she says, reaching out a hand to cautiously touch the fabric at the girl's knee--if Chaney doesn't spook. Currently the moon is in the waning Half Moon phase (43% full). One would _hope_ they're sleepwear, anyway, because it's some kinda awful sort of fashion for a teenage girl. Chaney doesn't spook and doesn't seem to mind the touch -- in fact, she leans over to sniff Rina's hair before turning her attention to the laptop screen, fingers reaching out to touch. There's a weird shadowy reaction to her fingers, but like the television, the screen is smooth. Plastic-smooth. Rina doesn't mind the touching, apparently; she entranced by the wolf's curiosity. Chaney scoots back, pulling her feet up onto the couch, and turns her attention from the screen to the kinfolk, her blue eyes open and direct. "Ssaayn-ee," she says awkwardly. Rina grins. "That's you, right?" She points helpfully at the girl's chest. "Chaney." Chaney bounces a little, 'grinning' with lips pulled back and mouth slightly open. "Ssaayn-ee, Ssayn-ee." She licks her lips, then adds, "Nnah. Mmah-ehs. Nnah, Mmah-ehs, Ssayn-ee." Rina laughs delightedly. "That's awesome!!!" She reaches out impulsively and rumples the girl's hair, a playful caress that's close kin to a scritch behind the ears. Chaney soaks up the praise with obvious pleasure, clearly very proud of her skills. "Sayn-ee, Sayn-ee, Sayn-ee," she babbles, then stops and peers at Rina, head cocked. Dark eyes sparkle in the dimness, and Rina joins the game like a conspirator. "*My* name," she says, a hand going flat on her chest, "is... Rina. Ree-na." Chaney blinks a few times. "...Eeen-ah," she says, after a beat. "Oh you'll be able to do /this/ one," Rina says confidently. "New sound, okay?" She leans forward, playful as a puppy, giving a little shake of her head as she mock-growls. "Rrrrrrrrrrr." The noise that issues from the cub is a gutteral, back-of-the-throat sound -- a wolfish growl approximated with a human voicebox. Chaney pants lightly after this. Rina nods, encouraging, and brings the sound forward, demonstrating: from a growl to a speech-sound. "Rrrrrrrrrr." "Hhhuurrrgh," says Chaney, more or less, and then makes a face, nose wrinkling. She's not bringing the sound forward and it's otherwise heck on the throat. Rina puts a hand to her throat. "Ow, huh? You'll learn it eventually." She tips her head to one side. "Can you say 'arooooooo'?" Chaney swallows, working saliva around in her mouth, and shifts her weight on the couch for a bit. "Aah..." She purses her lips like Rina's doing. "Oooooo..." Rina hmms. "Let's try another one," she says. "Arrrrrrrrr." Chaney works her jaw. "Aahwrrr." Rina's eyes light. "Good! Now try this: Ahrrrrreeeee." Chaney wriggles a bit, butt planted against the couch cushion, shifting from side to side. "Aahwrrrr... awwhrreeeeee..." Grinning, Rina rumples her hair again. "Great. Now it's easy: a-reeeee... na." Chaney, after some garbled attempts, manages, "Awrrrrrreeeee...nnah!" "Yaaaaay!" The outburst is a little loud, and Rina claps her hands over her mouth, after, giving a little glance to the ceiling; then she rumples Chaney's hair again. "Rina! Saney!" Chaney startles at the shout, eyes widening, and then -- at the hair-ruffling -- starts squirming happily in place, rocking side to side and bouncing and generally looking pleased with herself. Once she makes an abortive sort of lunge -- as if about to pounce the kin and then not doing so at the last moment. "Ssayn-ee, Sayn-ee," she chants. "Sayn-ee... AwrrrEEE-nah!" Laughing, Rina half-hugs, half-fuzzles her. "Good job!" Chaney lolls her tongue out and gets up on her knees to lean heavily against the smaller woman, almost clambering on top of her and getting rambuctiously playful -- forgetting for the moment that kinfolk are more delicate. "Nah, nah, nah!" Rina rolls with it, playing on the couch and rolling around with the Lupus. "Grrrrrrr." "Ahhwwrrr," growls the cub, more gutterally, but without ire. She's all arms and legs, doesn't seem to care where she grabs, and wrestles enthusiastically for the top position. "Ooof--" They tumble to the space between couch and coffee table, Rina landing on her side and then promptly tackled under the lanky Garou. She finally gives up the match, panting beneath the girl's weight. "Ee-nah!" chirps the cub, carelessly dropping the 'rr' sound. She gets up and pounces back onto the couch, stretching out and taking up the whole length of it. At least she remembered Natalie's order not to do face-licking while in homid. Rina laughs a little as she gets to her knees, twisting around to plant a chaste kiss on the girl's cheek. "You're adorable." Chaney squints her eyes a little and stretches her mouth into another approximate smile, lips parted. "Ee-nah," she replies, reaching out to pat the kinswoman on the head. Rina nods. "Saney. You're doing great, kiddo." Her smile is tired, affectionate. "I think it's bedtime, yeah?" She makes the 'sleep' gesture, leaning her cheek on folded hands. Chaney cocks her head a little, then gets up off the couch, takes a few steps toward the parlor door, and then looks back at Rina. Rina rolls to her feet, and paces across to her, cocking her head slightly. She has a diffident moment, uncertainty taking over as she asks, "Can I stay with you?" Gestures accompany the words, illustrating Rina going in the same direction. "'Eena," the cub replies. "Sayn-ee, 'Eena." She pauses, then walks over and tries to take the kinswoman by the arm. "'Eena." Rina nods, her smile touched. "Yeah. Thanks." She walks with the Lupus, slipping her hand down to twine fingers with Chaney. Chaney's grasp thus gets shifted from arm to hand, and the cub leads her upstairs and to the bedroom... which actually looks more like a real human room, what with the bed and shelf that Natalie put in. The blankets and pillows are all a shambles, though. Rina really doesn't mind; she sits on the edge of the bed and tugs off her boots, tossing them into a corner. "It's okay?" she asks, looking to Chaney to make sure she seems at ease. Chaney clambers up onto the bed and sprawls out on one side, already yawning. Oh, yes, she's _completely_ at ease. Rina crawls in with her, cuddling up in one of the blankets and giving her as much space as possible. Chaney falls asleep almost immediately and, somewhere in the night, rolls over and curls an arm over the kin and makes mumbly noises before settling back into deep slumber.