It is currently 10:07 Pacific Time on Fri Jul 23 2004. Currently the moon is in the waxing Half Moon phase (41% full). Chaney is a tall girl, near six feet tall and, it seems, all arms and legs; she looks like a shoe-in for the high school girls' basketball team. She's pale-skinned, liberally freckled, and sports a thick mass of dark auburn hair that doesn't appear to have seen a brush or a pair of scissors in years. Behind that tangle lurk wide, often confused blue eyes and attractively youthful features -- straight nose, high cheekbones, a narrow chin and full lips. At a guess, she's in her late teens. She's currently dressed in a big pink t-shirt with a doe-eyed kitten on the front and a pair of baggy pink sweatpants with a white stripe down the outside of each leg. The sweatpants have been hacked off at the knees to turn them into shorts, which bares coltish legs lightly dusted in reddish hair. Her feet are bare. 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 pages: Wanna say the two of us have been doing girly things, like T'ai chi and punching the boxing bag? The basement door opens up with a loud creak and the Gothic thumps his way down the stairs on heavy combat boots that are buckled nearly to the knee. His eyes squint a bit as he snorts sharply at the smell in the air. Its familiar. "Hello? Who blew up a dog down here?" He asks, reaching the bottom and turns the corner, spying the new kid at work. "... Hey." He pauses for a moment, then rubs the back of his neck. "I heard rumors we had a new guy hanging around here. I guess its true." You paged Natalie with 'Oh, sure! Hm. Can this be the first day we've moved to the punching bag? Last night Josh tried to teach Chaney fighting and it was, um, a dismal failure. Chaney doesn't like Joshua now; he confused her and makes no sense.'. Natalie pages: Sure, today is day numero uno of working with the bag. Funny. As all of that is occuring down in the basement, the front door opens, revealing Emily. Looking cautiously about the downstairs, she calls, "Hello? Where is everyone?" Some of the 'everyone' - at least Nat and Chaney - are coming down the stairs. Nat's dressed in her workout clothes, Chaney in her usual obnoxious pink... pinkness. "Morning, Emily," Nat says as she walks beside the lupus, one arm out to help her if she falls but otherwise letting her navigate the steps on her own. Chaney, indeed, bounces down the steps with confidence and grace. Or confidence, anyway. Spotting the kinswoman, she pipes up with a gleeful, "Emma-wee! Emma-wee, Emma-wee!" Saul looks up at the stairs and frowns very visibly, "Another person I haven't met yet. If you're hear to points a gun at me, threaten to beat the crap out of me, or enact some form of 'Family' justice, take a number and wait outside. You've got two more infront of you." He snarls before turning back to his laptop, "'Family' indeed..." "Ha. I like you already. My name is Jeremy Winters. On the net and the world wide Walker web, they call me Digital Wrath, or Code-Breaker. I'm a kinfolk, which means I can't turn into a eight foot furby and throw you around like a rag doll. I also don't point guns at family, unless ya'know.. you were threatening to beat the crap outta me." He flops down next to you at the table, raising up a brow. "Whatcha glueing back together there? Yer sodering like crazy. Ya rip of the processor off the board or are ya trying to come up with your own expandable AGP on a notebook?" Taking a step back, Emily looks almost started by the gleeful greeting of the cub. Still, it does elicit a slow grin from her as she closes the door. "Morning to both of you. And hey there, Chaney." Some of the acrid smoke begins to drift upstairs causing her to look toward the basement door, wherever that is. "What's burning?" "/Walk/ down the steps," the Galliard stresses, offering the kinswoman a rather rueful 'good morning' smirk. "Burning?" She sniffs, sniffs again, then eyes the basement door consideringly. "I /think/ that's Saul. Haven't gotten any mysterious notes, anyway..." Abandoning the cub to Emily's care, she jogs to the basement door and pulls it open. "Saul? You working down there?" Chaney sniffs the air as well, and her freckled nose crinkles. Her eyes follow Emily's toward the basement door, and as Natalie opens it, the cub starts moving over that way, nostrils flaring. Saul calls up the stairs, "That all depends on who's asking. If you're Josh or Marcus, you can consider me non-existant, in which case, no, I'm not here. If you're Nat, I'm down here thinking up evil dastardly plans to over-throw the government. If you're anyone else? Check you guns at the door!" He sighs and turns to Jeremy, "I'm moving the processor to install a liquid cooling system." He says fairly simply. Jeremy raises up a brow. "/How/" He asks pointendly. "You got a laptop dude. The only way you can do that is.." He trails off in thought. "Ok, what ya need to do is get yourself a slightly bigger case that will still hold the processor to the board. That way you can fit the heat sink over the water coolant. If you want, I got some spare tubes upstairs that I was using for the server. What I did was instead of going with the stock cabling, I made my own so that the tubing is thinner, mostly because I was installing a fatter heat sink since I am running dualie Xeon's for the server." He babbles. "Now, if you go that route, you can fit the processor and the copper over the tubbing and hopefully, the metal won't get too hot so that it burns through the plastic. It'll add three pounds to the box, but what the fuck, right? Its all in the name of science and technology!" He beams, then glances behind his shoulder. "Hi Emily. I'm down here also, meeting the new guy." Emily takes a few quick steps after Chaney, frowning a bit as the girl moves. "Chaney, why don't you stick near me?" She says that, at least, but she's following after Natalie just as quickly as the lupus cub. Jeremy pages to the room: er, change that to Natalie. Sorry. I thougth Em came down here first. Natalie snorts, calls a, "You two kids have fun down there," and backs out of the doorway, closing the basement door firmly behind her. "No worries, Emily. Not the happy fun guy from last time. S'just Saul." She glances toward the kitchen. "You two want to come in my office and sit? Or should we go outside? S'too nice to be inside today." Chaney stops and turns to regard Emily with an unhostile but perhaps still disconcerting direct stare. "Naht," she protests, then turns back as Natalie closes the basement door. The cub's neck cranes as she peers past the Galliard, and then she relaxes, though continues to look curious as hell. Saul nods slowly as all of this is explained, "I've been explaining this to Josh, but it's like explaning to a rock. Not that it's his fault, but yes, I'm fully aware of this. I'm going to use that new cooling gel stuff with some nice glow paint, and also I want to install the black light bulbs through out and route it through the sound card so that the bulbs will flash with the beat, and the tube'll glow. What I /really/ need is a clear case, a new keyboard pad, and an active liquid crystal display." He ventures a glance at the door to the basement and once satisfied no one's going to shoot him, continues his soldering. "An yer doing all of this to a laptop? Why not just go with a desktop instead or something dude?" Jeremy asks curiously. "It'd cost you less and it'd be more attractive. I don't think you could get a plastic housing for a laptop all see through like and have it remain stable. Laptops generate enough heat as it is with the hard drive sitting so close to the mother board. If you want, I can hook you up with hella parts and shit." He shifts his gaze to the door again, then looks back to Saul. "I take it you're hating your first week of basic training, huh? It gets easier dude, really." He gives a hopeful smile to the cub. "So, they figure out what moon yer under?" Emily takes two steps back before she gets herself under control. Clearing her throat, she blinks at Natalie rapidly before admiting, "Oh, I got an earful about Saul, Josh and you last night. Most of it in Italian." My, who could possibly be doing that? "Don't you Nat me," Nat tells Chaney mildly. "..All right, my office it is. I've got to pack up all of Leala's crap anyway so I have a place to sleep." A jerk of her head and she's off to the office. Cockroach Mansion -- Office The Elder's office is an extension of the same elegant display of wealth which characterizes the rest of the mansion. Most noticeable, from the doorway in the southern wall, is the large black-veined white marble fireplace taking up half of the northern part of the room, contrasting sharply with the ebony-paneled walls. A rug of forest green carpets the floor from wall to wall, while red velvet frames the wall of windows to the west. The other decor is typical of the private office of a wealthy, old-world businessmen, from the ponderous mahogany desk along the eastern wall and the equally heavy chairs set before them, to the brass and glass chandelier dangling from the ceiling. A reproduction of Van Gogh's _Starry Night_ hangs above the fireplace, and the bookshelves behind the desk are, so far, nearly empty. A door at the far end of the office leads into an adjoining room and bathroom. The room is filled with computer workstations, a variety of high-end digital, film and video cameras, lighting equipment, scanners and other photographic odds and ends. The bathroom has been converted to a darkroom. Chaney sticks her lower lip out a bit and follows Natalie into the office after a final glance backwards at the basement door. "Yosh," she says, and frowns. Emily glances around the office, her expression mild as she does. "You gonna get rid of the darkroom?" she asks casually as she enters. "Seems like a waste of space. And it would seem that things have been rather...contenscious here lately." Natalie heads straight for the adjoining room, waving the others in. Leala's computer and photography gear is looking both lonely and decimated; half of it's in boxes and the other half in various states of disarray. "What about Josh?" she asks, and "What? Yes, of course. There's absolutely no reason for the elder to have a damn darkroom. If Leala ever comes back I'll build her one of her very own. Upstairs." "Yosh, Shaynee," says the cub, her attention distracted by all the stuff in the room. She wanders around, poking things, especially computer keyboards. Emily eyes Chaney thoughtfully for a moment before walking toward indicated room. "Seems a waste of a perfectly good bathroom, actually. So you're completely settled into your role as Elder now?" Natalie eyes Chaney and her keyboard poking for a moment, but turns back to her packing. "As much as I can. Let me know if Chaney wants to plug anything in, will you? Otherwise I think everything's safe. Hmmn... you've heard about our new cub, right? Saul? He's another Ahroun." Emily's head drops and she nods. "Yeah, I heard. Marcus has been bitching up a storm about him lately. When he isn't bitching about other things. Getting to be that time of the month and all." Click. Click. Click. Chaney fingerpecks experimentally and at random, apparantly not bothered by the fact that the blank screen doesn't react at all. "Yeah." Nat drags an empty box closer to her with one hooked foot. "So is he still going on about Saul?" "He's more pissed at you, at the moment." Emily glances up, giving the Galliard a wry glance. "I think he thinks you were implying things about me yesterday. My guess is that you weren't but damn, did he shout about it." Chaney gives up on the nonresponsive computer and wanders to another part of the room to study the bookshelves. The cub continues to poke around, picking things up and touching them at random. Natalie rolls her eyes and wraps a fragile-looking whatever in a sheet of newspaper. "There was /way/ too much testosterone up there last night, and no where near enough brain cells. And until I know I can trust Marcus, he's not going to be doing any damn cub training. ...That goes for you, too. Not cub training, but 'being trained by Marcus'. It's a no-no." "He wouldn't hurt me." Emily picks up something from a shelf, examines it then places it down with a grimace. "But whatever. If I haven't learned about guns at this point, its going to have to wait. I've called this one kin named Alec St. Jean who is a doctor. I have a feeling he'll have a lead for me which means, thank God, I'll be working again. So my free time is gone. No guns for me." Natalie continues to wrap and pack, wrap and pack. Oh, for the glamorous life of a tribal Elder. "That's good to hear. I mean, not that I don't want you comfortable handling a gun, but I'd rather you were working. Sanity is such a rare thing in this tribe, and I want to encourage it any way I can." Chaney, who'd probably consider herself _quite_ sane, sits down in front of the fireplace and pokes around at the long-cold ashes. The soot hasn't been cleaned in weeks, probably. "Yeah. I think he works in a free clinic. Which should keep me busy as hell." Emily waves a hand. "Hopefully Marcus'll never figure out the usual clientel in those because he'd throw a trantrum but yeah, it'll keep me nicely sane." Natalie grunts - more of a whine, really - and stops packing. "I'm glad to hear that. Damn - and cover your ears, Emily - I wish Walker were back." She assumes the petulant whine of a toddler, complete with stamping feet. "I don't waaaaaaaant to be Ellllderrrrr!" A sigh for the ceiling, and she nods. "All right, I think I'm done. Chaney, come away from there. Your hands will get dirty and we'll have to wash them again." "OK, Jeremy." Emily says that /very/ mildly though she casually takes a step or two back as she does. "And yeah, I know, this is a lot. But our options are just a bit limited, y'know?" Chaney's hands are, alas, already dirty, but she gets up and trots over to Natalie anyway. Natalie attempts to catch the cub by the wrists before she can get soot smeared all over everything. "Oh, tell me about it. I've got to talk to Olga, and hunt down Owen, and Gaia only knows what I'm going to do about Yi... Sometimes I wish you were Garou, Emily. It'd make my life easier, you know?" "I don't." Emily doesn't smile and looks completely serious. "Being kin isn't exactly easy but I'd rather be that then Garou." But she tends to be rather gentle.. Chaney grunts in surprise at being grabbed and tries to pull away, making little whining noises of protest. "Naaaaaah..." "You I can rely on," Nat tells her seriously, shooting Chaney a quelling frown. "Marcus I can rely on most of the time. Joshua I can rely on if all I need to do is shred something. Aim and boom. Cat... Cat's good for Umbral stuff, and that's it, really. I hardly ever see him. Chaney, stop. Let me look at your hands. They're all dirty, see?" Emily pulls a little stack of kleenex out of her purse. "Here. And yeah, you can rely on me. And Marcus is getting better." After all, she'd be the first to admit that Marcus has problems. "Nat, Josh scares me." Chaney's shoulders sag and her lower lip pokes out sulkily. Natalie says "I -think- there's still a working sink in the darkroom. C'mon, Chaney, lets go see." She nods for Emily to bring her Kleenex. "Josh is a damn timebomb. A little more stable than when he left, maybe, but his long-term planning skills still suck dead rat through a straw." "He scares me, pure and simple. And not just because of the curse." Emily takes a few steps, holding the little thing of kleenex out. Natalie pages to the room: We're all back in the bedroom/photography studio. It's all full of boxes and other packing crap. What hasn't been packed has been unplugged, and the whole thing looks kinda like a war zone. Nat's got Chaney by the wrists and is leading her toward the darkroom. Chaney gets led off into the bathroom for hands-washing, muttering protest. "No no no." Oh, look who's learned _another_ brand new word! "/Yes/," Nat answers firmly. "Yes wash hands. Then no playing in the fireplace. Yes you can play with the keyboards." Over her shoulder she adds, "He's a timebomb, like I said. I'm just waiting for him to run off to play soldier in the woods, like he promised." The door rattles a few times, as if a weight is suddenly pressed against it. It takes a bit of work, but door opens: White Bear presses the oak thing open in lupus, the leg healed but sporting new claw tracks along the his side. Great, now there are -two- Ahroun's in the same room. The walker sniffs at the room as he enters. "I know. And--" Emily stops abruptly at the sound of the door opening, turning to look back into the main area. And swallowing hard at the sight of Josh in lupus. "Uh. Hi Josh." "No no no," says Chaney, being stubborn. She twists in Natalie's grip to look over at the male and then, frowning, looks away. "Chaney..." it's a warning growl from the homid Galliard as she lets go of one wrist to work the taps. Emily's greeting brings her attention around to the kin. "What? Dammit, can't he /knock/? This isn't his office yet, and it damn well never will be! Tell him to go outside and do it properly this time!" Her voice is loud enough to be clearly heard in the office - she probably meant it to be. Chaney is quelled and sullenly puts her hands under the running water of the sink. Long distance to Natalie: Chaney assumes that Nat taught Chaney about washing hands after going potty. Though she usually spends way too long doing it. :D Natalie pages: Sounds reasonable to me. Natalie pages: At least she doesn't flush all afternoon anymore. ;) Long distance to Natalie: Chaney grins. White Bear rears back onto two legs, shifting in a rather fluid motion up to Homid. The Ahroun could look more displeased; he might look less happy if he was say, on fire. He sets his face with that stoney look he's been working on, looking dead on to the kin. "And... what? You are afraid I am going to... blow up?" He bites out low and quiet to the kin. "You had enough time! Deliver the damn terms or step down, packs-with-wyrm Rhya." Emily honestly looks close to tears at the moment, her mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out. She's not stupid enough to look away from Josh but at his last words, she starts to shake. "Please...don't..." Natalie stiffens, straightens, her hand on Chaney's wrist tightening. She roars back, "Get the hell out of my office! Stop scaring my kin," Oh, Marcus won't be pleased to hear that, "and keep a damn respectful tongue in your head, Wolf-Heart! You're getting your damn terms when /I'm/ ready to give them to you! Now get out!" Chaney utters a cry of pain and upset, giving a strong yank at the grip on her wrist; the cub's lips peel away from her teeth, and her nose wrinkles up into a grimace. Joshua glares around, at nothing in particular, as he stomps backwards to the door. He folds his arms on the other side, standing just in the way of it being closed. "You will give them to me now, because otherwise you will sit on it until it's convenient to -you.- I will -not- sit around any longer listening to you claim a _Wyrmthing_ as family while you trash my name!" Emily's head now twists from back toward Natalie and then toward Josh. And she desperately looks as thought she wants to be anywhere but here at the moment, her arms wrapping about her. Her feet, probably without her realization, move her so that she's squished up against the bookcase, as out of the way as she can be. Natalie snorts, drops Chaney's wrist, and stalks, stiff-shouldered, to stand square in the doorway between her office and the studio. "You know, Josh, for one supposedly so in tune with his wolf side, you act like a damn untaught cub. -You- challenged -me-. /I/ set terms and /I/ decide when you get them. Not you. Now shove off." Kin? There's kin here? Nat's an inch or two over average height for a woman, perhaps five-seven or -eight. She's built rather reminscent of a brick, with a square face and jaw, and broad shoulders that have no need of padding. Nondescript brownish hair is only a few inches long, and the ten-dollar cut makes her face look even wider. Blue-green eyes are widely set under a pair of thickly stroked eyebrows; her nose and lips are proportionately large. She wouldn't catch any eyes if it weren't for the eerie way she has of staring, or the suggestion of prior and pending fist-fights in the small scars pocked across her face and hands. Her accent is flat Midwestern unobtrusive, her age roughly twenty. Someone else must have done her shopping, for Nat's sporting a surprisingly trendy Hawaiian shirt. The dark blue background of the short-sleeved button-down is broken by paler blue stripes of large tropical flowers down the center of the shirt as well as the outer edges. The shirt hangs open, revealing a white tank top tucked into faded blue carpenter jeans. The bottom hem falls over the edge of a pair of new-looking white sneakers. Chaney trails after Natalie, remaining behind the Galliard and, with her height, able to peer over and past the Elder. The lupus' face is contorted, lips peeled back into a tooth-baring grimace, and her eyes move back and forth as her nostrils flare. Emily's head now twists from back toward Natalie and then toward Josh. And she desperately looks as thought she wants to be anywhere but here at the moment, her arms wrapping about her. Her feet, probably without her realization, move her so that she's squished up against the bookcase, as out of the way as she can be. Natalie snorts, drops Chaney's wrist, and stalks, stiff-shouldered, to stand square in the doorway between her office and the studio. "You know, Josh, for one supposedly so in tune with his wolf side, you act like a damn untaught cub. -You- challenged -me-. /I/ set terms and /I/ decide when you get them. Not you. Now shove off." Kin? There's kin here? Chaney trails after Natalie, remaining behind the Galliard and, with her height, able to peer over and past the Elder. The lupus' face is contorted, lips peeled back into a tooth-baring grimace, and her eyes move back and forth as her nostrils flare. "It doesn't work like that. You gives the terms, but you are supposed to deliver them when the challenge is made. Or, you know, soon after? I shall not 'shove off'. For someone who is supposedly a better elder, you sure know know next to nothing about how things work: You deliver the terms when I challenge. Or soon after. It is now past 'soon' after; otherwise you would sit on the terms until you were old and infirm." Joshua deliberately lifts his chin slightly. "What else should I expect from someone who claims the enemy as her family." Emily is barely even breathing now, the whites of her eyes showing as she looks from one Garou to another. Is the room closing in on her? Sheesh. Natalie's holding onto her patience - with tooth and claw, but holding onto it nevertheless. "I already /said/ when I was going to deliver your terms." She doesn't either tack a verbal 'you idiot' onto the end. "I -said-, if you can remember back that far, that I'd give them to you by the moot. So. It's not the moot. You can damn well get off your high and mighty 'better Garou than thou' high horse." Chaney, behind Natalie, shifts her weight in a tense, nervous kind of way. Angry-nervous. Her hands, still rather sooty and wet besides, find the tail of her pink t-shirt and twist it, staining the pink with black. "That is too far in the future. Especially with, from what I heard, you talking... 'trash' behind me." Josh snarls back. He doesn't surge into the room, and it looks like he's holding himself outside the door frame. "I will say it to your face: You want to call enemy 'family'. You are a stupid quassq. You do not like this, you challenge -me-. Otherwise, give me the terms." Emily seems to decide that just closing her eyes until this is all over is the best option. So she does just that, still barely breathing. Chaney's breath is quick and rapid behind the Galliard and hot on her hair. The cub's upper lip makes little twitches to bare her teeth as she pants, and the way her hair hangs in front of her face only makes the tall adolescent look more savage. Natalie remains in the doorway, ignoring both hyperventilating kin and overeager cub. "Get the hell out of my house, Joshua." Somehow she manages to keep a tight rein on her temper, but it doesn't seem to be coming easily. "You say you're such a damn fine Garou? What the hell happened to the Litany, hmm? You may think you're better than me, but until you actually /win/ your Challenge, I still rank you. Submission to those higher in station. Second - respect the territory of another. Standing -outside- my office and shouting insults into it... and freaking the hell out of Emily, I might add - is rules lawyering worthy of a Ragabash, or of Marcus. So get the hell out of my house. You'll get the terms of your Challenge when I say you'll get them. Not a minute before." "ONE. Respect to those beneath. TWO. /Combat/ the wyrm where it dwells and when it breeds. THREE. The Leader may be challenged at any time of Peace." Josh doesn't let Natalie finish, talking over her as she talks. Once she finishes.: "You better damn well pray Marcus can bend the litany to say otherwise for you this time, because Megan will hear about this. ALL of it." Josh starts backing up, face still set as he walks backwards. "Get. The Hell. Out." That's all Nat says, her eyes on Joshua's until the Ahroun is no longer in sight. Joshua storms up to where he keeps his personal affects, and ten minutes later he can be seen blowing out the door with his backpack and jacket on. If anyone is watching (yeah right) he's headed strait for the bawn. Do not pass go. Do not collect 200 dollars. Emily is left a weeping and shaking mess in the corner, her arms still looped over her head. Yes, she is very overwhelmed at this point. As soon as Josh storms off Nat herds Chaney back to the darkroom to wash her hands, then returns slowly to the doorway between office and studio. "...Emily?" She keeps her voice pitched low. Soothing. "It's all right, he's gone." "I can't do this, Natalie. I can't be stuck in the middle of this, I don't think he even cared that I was here or could be hurt." Emily manages to spit that out between chattering teeth but its hard for her. "Shhh," Nat soothes, coming slowly closer as if Emily were a cornered terrier that might snap at her. "I wouldn't let Joshua hurt you, Emily. It's all right, huh? If you'd like I'll change the keycode for you, so he can't get in without an escort of some sort. You won't ever have to be alone with him." Gifts are handy. Emily's breathing slows and her teeth stop chattering. "Would you?" She hesitates for a moment before nodding. "You promise?" Natalie nods reassuringly, catching the other woman's eyes. "I will. I'll do it right now if you want. And Jon's already said he'll take a look a security for this place, so we'll be extra-special guarded. I think I'll talk him out of the tiger pits, though." Emily laughs but its weak. Her hand dashes away tears as she does, followed by a heavy sigh. "Do it all. And I want Marcus teaching me how to use a gun in the evenings." Natalie pushes herself up to rummage in the drawers of the desk, finally coming up with some tissues. The ones Emily had earlier have probably been torn into itty-bitty fragments. "That I can't do for you yet, Emily. Not until I think Marcus has turned around a bit farther. He's come a hell of a way, but I still wouldn't trust him with my cubs." Her cubs. Her kin. Hell, -her- office. She's all about the territory. Waving off the tissues, Emily uses her sleeve instead. How uncouth. "Yeah, well, its only my life we're talking about here. He'd shoot himself before he'd hurt me." Natalie cocks an ear to where Chaney's /still/ washing her hands, but she doesn't move to interrupt. "Maybe so. But I want to make it perfectly clear to him exactly who's in charge." A faint wry smile curves up the corners of her mouth. "Funny, that. I press harder and everyone screams and whines. I let up on the pressure and they're just going to do whatever the hell -they- want, instead of what -I- want them to. There's times when I wish the Walkers were a little more attuned to their wolfy sides." "Yeah, well, I'm just related, not half-wolf." Emily sniffs faintly then pulls out her cell phone. "I better call Marcus and break the news to him this way instead of face to face. Wrong moon for that." Natalie reaches out to prevent that call. "What news are you breaking? Your job, or the fact that Joshua scared the hell out of you?" Emily hesitates. "Both. Face to face would be a little scary right now. Did you want to break it to him?" "I'm Elder," Nat says simply. "It's my responsibility to tell the tribe what's going on." She stands and offers a hand down for the older woman. "Tell him about your job, certainly, but don't mention Joshua, please. I know him - he'll get all huffy and threaten to kill him, and I'll have to put my foot on his neck so he doesn't go charging off after him loaded for bear." A smirk lights her face at the pun. Emily says, very matter of factly, "All I have to do is cry and Marcus'll do whatever I want. But he'll know something scared me when he sees me. I can't hide it from him and I won't lie." Natalie says "So make sure you don't see him until you've calmed down. I mean it, Emily. I've had it with the dominance games of those two. If they're not Challenging me they're quibbling with each other over the stupidest things. Marcus is better - usually - but Josh... Gah. You saw the idiot. He's decided that only the bits of the litany that he wants to have apply to him /do/." Emily's phone goes back in her pocket and she heads for the door. "Fine, Natalie. But don't fucking make the kin pawn in all these various dominance struggles." And with that, she heads out the door, heading for outside. Natalie blinks after her, then leaps for the door as well, catching herself on the frame. "Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" "I can't learn something that could save my life until Marcus 'learns his place'? Fuck this, Natalie. And on top of it, I can't tell my own fucking fiance about an incident that scared the living daylights out of me because he cares enough to defend me? Fuck this." And with that, Emily opens the front door and heads out toward her car. "/I'll/ tell him, damn it!" Nat yells after her - but doesn't leave her spot at the door. When the front door's closed behind the kin she retreats into her office, muttering about 'damn kin' and 'damn fuckheads'. "Chaney, that's enough washing. Come on out of there. We gotta have you watch some TV." A very subdued Chaney comes out after carefully turning off the faucet. Her shirt-tail is still smudged with wet soot and her whole manner is twitchy and dour. "Yosh," she mumbles. "_No_ Yosh. _No_ Yosh." "You've got that straight. Josh was a bad dog," Nat agrees, gesturing Chaney out into the hall ahead of her. "No no, bad dog Joshua. So what's it going to be, Chaney? Blue's Clues, or Muppets?" Chaney licks her lips and rubs absently at her jaw with the heel of her hand. "Ubbits," she says at last. Natalie closes the door behind her, giving the wood a penetrating glance, then heads off to the parlor. The complete set of Muppets on DVD. Of course. "Here you go, kiddo. The Lynda Carter episode, I think. I like the 'crash bang' song." And for a few minutes she is busy with technological things. Chaney flops herself violently down onto the couch and stretches out on her side, head pillowed on one arm. She's still rather pouty, the way only teenage girls can pout. The well-known Muppet Show theme rings out from the television, and Nat leaves Chaney to veg in front of the dancing and singing frogs, gophers, and assorted monsters. She is heading back to the kitchen, thank you. You paged the room with 'It's time to play the music! It's time to light the lights! It's time to get things started on the Muppet Show tonight! It's time to put on makeup! It's time to dress up right! It's time to get things started on the Muppet Show tonight!'. Marcus comes in through the doors as Natalie is headed back to the kitchen. "Hello? Anyone home?" This is the irst time the Philodox has returned since slamming out yesterday. Natalie turns, not having reached the kitchen yet, and says, "Marcus," in an unreadable tone of voice. "I hope you don't mind the Muppets; Chaney needed something to calm down with." Chaney, a true Glass Walker, is soon lulled by the television and remains quiet and docile in the parlor. "I wasn't planning on sticking around to share experience them, actually." Marcus replies. "I was just looking for Emily, I want to take her out to lunch. She's not at home though, or answering her phone. I don't suppose you've seen her?" While the Philodox clearly hasn't forgotten Natalie promised to settle things later yesterday, he dosn't seem that hostile. Natalie blows out a breath. "I have, actually. She left just a few minutes before you got here. She was a little upset." Of course, she tends to be 'a little upset' around Chaney. Damn Curse. "Joshua..." She eyes the Philodox thoughtfully, as if making up her mind. "Joshua was here, pounding on his chest and making demands, and Emily got to see it. She's not hurt; Josh didn't touch a hair on her head." The temperature in the room goes through the floor. Marcus looks like he might explode at any moment. The fact it's currently his moon probably dosn't help. "A little upset." He repeats. "Care to elaborate? Because I know how she gets around Ahrouns. And if she had to deal with Chaney and Joshua, /and/ Joshua was in full chest-beating mode, I'm willing to bet she's more than 'a little upset'" There's a pause. "She may be unhurt, but how close do you think she believes she came to be being hurt, or worse? She's seen what we can do to our Kin before, you know. I don't want to see her addicted to valium or alchohol." "She was a -little upset-," Nat repeats. Firmly. "I've told her I'm going to change the keypad code so Josh can't come in here without an escort. I don't trust him around kin, not the way he's acting. He was demanding - /demanding/ that I give him the terms for his Challenge, and then accused me of breaking the Litany because I demanded he submit. He's still a headcase, and I can't wait until he joins that damn Guardian pack and leaves us the hell alone." Marcus clearly dosn't believe a word of it about this little upset. But the thing about the keypad code placates him slightly. "Good. I do not want him near her. If he goes anywhere near her, he will answer to me. And I tend to ask questions that will lead to him becoming dead." There's a nasty, humorless smile. And then, because the Philodox needs someone to take his anger and worry out on. "There remains the matter of yesterday." Natalie's reply is a determined, "He'll answer to both of us, Marcus. -Both- of us. You saw what I did over a dead vampire. How the hell do you think I feel about a -living- kin who is engaged to my Beta? If I had to guess I'd say Emily's the best thing that's ever happened to you. Even if she were Talon kin, for that alone I'd put her under my protection." And that floors Marcus. So badly he can't even hide any of how shocked he is. Eventually, the Philodox speaks. "Yes, she is." He sighs. "I guess we should probably forget about yesterday. You know I don't have a sense of humor at the best of times, especially so close to my moon." He even manages a sheepish smile. Natalie quirks him a smile. "Forgotten. We're working on that stick up your butt; it'll just take longer than I expected." Smirk broadens. "That was a joke. Now come on back to the office, watch me pack? I've milked all the amusement I can out of 'packing up someone else's crap while alone'." "Not funny." Marcus replies, but he dosn't scowl. "Alright, I'll watch you pack. Hell, maybe if you work on the stick enough I might even /help/." There's a pause, then. "You think Emily will be alright? I mean, I shouldn't go look for her or anything?" Apparently he's grasped the concept of people needing space sometimes. 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 turns back to Saul with a go-ahead gesture. "There you are, Saul. And no, Remus has no reason to shoot you now. Eventually, yes, you will be shot. By him, perhaps, or me. Someone. But that'll be just for learning purposes." So calm and matter of fact. "I'd have you take Jon too, but he's not a computer guy." "Saul...." Marcus sighs. "Let me show you something. Really, being shot isn't that bad." He withdraws his gun and holds it back to Natalie, beginning to move away from her into empty space. "Upper arm, if you please Natalie." The Philodox says, removing his jacket and shirt as he does so. Natalie takes the gun with a blink - plainly she wasn't expecting -this- - but takes the gun. "At least the walls are semi-gloss. Taking blood off of flat paint sucks dead rat." She moves away as well, until there's about fifteen feet between herself and the Philodox. Saul's given a shit-eating grin. "Watch and learn." And then she braces herself, levels the gun at Marcus, and pulls the trigger. Marcus staggers slightly when the bullet enters his upper left arm. "Fuck." He grimaces, shifting up to Glabro. Amazingly, the wound begins to heal with speed. The bullet, of course, is ejected from his body. Saul blinks hard at the shot but looks at Marcus' wound, the rate of healing, and the bullet point lying on the ground, "No shit..." He says in a hushed tone and looks back up at Marcus and then frowns, looking him over, "You got bigger. And hairy. And ugly..." "Sure did." Marcus growls out at Saul, shifting back down to homid. "We call that Glabro. It's somewhere between our homid form, which we are currently wearing, and the Crinos form you saw me wear the other night when I brought you home." He begins to put on his shirt again. Natalie grins at the cub as she bends to pick up the spent casing. "Bingo. That form's called Glabro. We've got five, all told." She heads back down the hall toward the kitchen, handing Marcus his gun back as she passes. "Marcus, why don't you go fill Saul in while I clean this up? I don't want the blood to dry." Saul considers on this before asking, "Did you have to shift into Glabro to heal, or was that simply a reflex action, or was it just for kicks and giggles?" He says, examining the closing wound before Marcus puts his shirt back on, "Will I be able to heal that fast? How much does it hurt?" "I had to shift. We'll heal like that in any form but that of our birth." Marcus replies, now putting in his jacket. "Normally I'd shift before the bullet hit. However that wouldn't have the same effect in terms of a demonstration. Yes, you will heal that fast, hence why I'm not worried about shooting you. And it hurts like getting shot generally hurts. Although you get used to it over time." Natalie snorts at the last as she disappears into the kitchen. There's the sound of cabinets opening, then water gushing into a bucket. Saul raises his eye brows and stuffs his hands into his pocket, "You get /used/ to being shot? But what about a machine gun. Could you heal all of that? What happens if they have silver bullets?" "Yes, you do." Marcus replies, before laughing softly. "It depends on how many bullets hit. As for silver, I trust you know what that does to us. If they have a machinegun with silver bullets, you are probably fucked." Saul doesn't like this answer in particular and mutters, "Shit." He thinks on this for a couple seconds and then shrugs, "So what are you going to teach me? How to shoot? How to dodge those silver bullets?" "You'll rarely come up against silver bullets." Marcus replies with a shake of his head. "But I'm going to teach you how to shift. How to shoot. How to fight. What it means to be a Glass Walker. What it means to be a Werewolf. I'll also teach you about the Werewolf laws. Amongst other things." The kinfolk finally makes his way back into the other room after tucking himself away once he heard the gun shot. Saul nods quickly, "Okay. So where do we start?" He asks very rapid fire, "Huh, huh? Where to start?" He mimics a gun with his hand and makes report noises. Meanwhile, in the parlor, the Muppet Show DVD eventually reaches its end. Chaney's fallen asleep and lies sprawled on the couch, snoring softly. "Where do we start?" Marcus considers this. "I think I am supposed to take you shopping." He's remembering Natalie's words about holding the cub's hand. Saul nods sharply, "Okay, that's a good start." He supposes, "All I really need is a casing and screen, but I would like to get a nice radiator, and some glow-in-the-dark paint, and some cooling gel. And...mini black lights." He rambles on about it and then adds, "It's good. And'll look awesome and run really fast..." Rubbing the back of his neck, Jeremy peers at the pair of Garou for a moment, then lets out a soft breath. "Well.. have fun you two." "Oh no." Marcus shakes his head. "You're coming too, Jeremy. I don't understand this computer crap." He mutters something in Italian, before adding "Cooling gel? Mini black lights? What is it, a fucking hot rod?" Chaney wakes with an audible yawn, tongue curling out of her mouth. Sitting up, she looks around the empty parlor and then frowns at the television, which now shows only the menu screen of the Muppets DVD. "Naht?" Saul smirks, "Computers look a lot like hot rods these days, yes. I'm going to sync the black light to flash with the beat of MP3s so that when it flashes the cooling gel in the tubes that Jeremy's going to give me with light up and you can see it moving around in side. Look very awesome as well as be very functional. For years people have been using water as a cooling agent in cars, in reactors. Someone just thought, 'Hey! Why not computers!' since everything with a moving parts produces heat, it needs to be cooled. The ultimate computer though would be one with absolutely no moving parts, but tough luck finding it." He pauses, "Can we raid the government?" The Kinfolk goes quiet as Marcus decides to include him in the shopping trip. He slips his hands into his pockets and just stands there, watching the pair until Chaney's voice catches his attention. He looks over his shoulder towards her in the parlor. "Oh for..." Marcus sighs. "Excuse me. You two continue verbally masterbating over this shit, or whatever it is geeks do." He heads into the parlor. "The muppets? There has to be something more suitable..." He searches for anything else that might entertain Chaney. Chaney sees Marcus and perks up. "Mah-ehs!" she calls out, her voice carrying clearly to the others. She stretches her arms and gets up, telling him earnestly and solemnly, "Yosh _no_. Nuh-tays, Yosh." She wrinkles her nose. Saul shrugs as Marcus goes to the parlor and turns to Jeremy and shrugs, "Methinkest he needs to enter the digital age of violence instead of whatever technology they have back in the old country." Jeremy shrugs his shoulders a bit. "Ask him about money and I'm sure he can go all day." He murmurs softly, then pulls his trench coat tighter against his body. "Good girl." Marcus nods approvingly. "Josh is a nutcase." He gives up on DVDs and starts flicking through the TV channels. Ah, there's a nice war movie on. Lots of explosions and violence. Someone colorized _A Bridge Too Far_, which is a crime against the cinematic arts. Not that Chaney cares, of course. GIs and Nazis are shooting at each other, and that's the important thing; Chaney's eyes stray to the television and she licks her lips, getting that glazed, almost hypnotized look in her eyes. "Tee-bee." Saul rolls his eyes, "Agreed. I'm sure if we started talking about FICOs and LTVs he'd go for hours..." He starts walking towards the door and walks past the parlor, "You'll rot her brains out with that stuff, Marcus. She really /should/ be watching something a bit more educational." The kin goes quiet once more as Saul heads off. Jeremy glances around the mansion uncomfortably, then silently leans back against the wall, plucking his iPod off his hip and plugs in the phones. "It's very educational." Marcus replies. "It has Nazis in it." Exactly what Marcus thinks one can learn from a film with Nazis in it he dosn't share. "Go and sit down and watch the TV, Chaney." "Nassies," echoes Chaney with a nod. Without taking her eyes from the television screen, she backs up to the couch and flops back down on it. "Tee-bee, Nassies." Saul shakes his head, rolls his eyes and walks to the door, "You guys comin' or do I have to drive myself?" He nags, "C'mon. S'gettin' late and I wanna see what these people are going to try and pawn off on me." "Yes, Nazis." Marcus restrains himself from commenting futher, stalking out towards the doors. "Alright, let's get going." Chaney tears her eyes away from the screen as Marcus leaves and, getting up again, goes as far as the parlor doorway to peer at the little group heading out. She frowns slightly. Saul opens the door for Marcus and gestures for Jeremy to proceed himself, "A'right who ever's listening! We're going now!" He proclaims to the household, "We've got cell phones and know how to use them if you call us!" Glancing over towards Chaney, Jeremy shrugs his shoulders a bit. "I can stay with ya Chaney so you won't get lonely." He offers towards the Lupus born. "Chaney, watch the Nazis." Marcus replies, before shaking his head at Jeremy. "Not a good idea. Just in case." Chaney glances at Jeremy without comprehension and then turns her big blue eyes to the Philodox. "Maaaah-ehhhs," she wheedles, shifting her weight from one bare foot to the other. "Mah-ehs tee-bee." Saul looks at Marcus as Chaney starts calling him, "Marcus, she's weedling. What do you wanna do, eh?" He shrugs as he walks out the door, "Do you want to give Jeremy and me some cash and we'll go get the stuff?" "No." Marcus replies with a shake of his head. "Natalie wouldn't stand for that." He sighs. "We'll go tommorow. Today...just do whatever. I have to watch TV with Chaney, otherwise she's going to be impossible to manage." He heads back towards the parlor. Chaney grins. She's getting better at that, though the expression still doesn't look quite... natural. Retreating back toward the couch, she curls up at one end with a pleased, triumphant expression. Saul proceeds to slam his head repeatedly against the door frame before shutting the door very calmly. He stands in the entry hall for a moment, walks over to the stairs and sits down, tapping his foot, "God I hate my life." The Gothic shrugs his shoulders and plugs the white ear pieces into his ears and turns the music up on them. With that, he starts heading for the front door, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Saul, come in here." Marcus calls out. "I figure I can get you started on something, at least." Chaney pulls her knees up to her chest and hugs them, her attention straying back to the TV. It's just talking right now, but that won't last. Saul stands from where he is on the stairs, walks down the few short steps and heads the other direction, "Food first. Want anything?" He asks as he heads for the kitchen, "My life is ruled over by three people. A woman who has too many challenges on her hand, an Italian with a love of guns, and a girl who grew up as a wolf. My life is complete." He mumbles. Thunk. Thats the sound of the front door. Exit one silent Goth. "No thank you." Marcus calls back. If he hears the other words, he dosn't comment. "No t'ank-oo," Chaney says, echoing Marcus. She eyeballs the Philodox sidelong, looking for approval. Saul comes back with a foot-long hoagie, bag of chips, and a bottle of Jolt and plops down on an unoccupied couch, "A'right, Obie-Wan, I am here to lay my Fritos before the master. As well as listen to what youse got ta say." Bite. Yum. "Good girl." Marcus nods to Chaney, a little suprised. "Alright. Garou law. How much Garou law do you know?" Chaney leans back against the couch, fiddling absently with her toenails as she watches the TV. Her manner is as happy as a smug cat. Saul takes a swig of his soda of choice and then sighs with satisfaction, "Litany Law 1: Thou shalt not steal from the money pit and thou shalt not disrespect the chain of command or they will shoot you. Repeatedly." And that's apparently it as he doesn't say anymore and take a bite out of his sandwhich. "Wrong." Marcus replies. "That is in the Litany, but it is not our first law." More gunfire erupts on-screen as a pitched battle is fought between Americans and Germans. Saul glances over at the TV, "Okay. Right then. Just repeating what I've heard. What /is/ the first law?" Another bite. Scrumptous." "Garou Shall Not Mate With Garou." Marcus replies. "Their offspring are twisted, deformed, style mules we call Metis." Saul shrugs, "Okay. Don't understand how that works, but alright. Thas cool. I won't go mate with another garou." He goes to take a bite out of his sandwhich but stops and looks over, "Um, can you date a fellow garou?" "No." Marcus seems very firm about that. "No. You can't even have feelings for them. That's what Kinfolk are for." Saul frowns at this and takes a bite out of his sandwhich, "Doesn't seem like kinfolk could stand us very well, but alright. Keep going though." "Well, you have to be careful with them." Marcus replies. "And stay away when the moon is fat." He pauses. "Second law of the litany. Combat the Wyrm Wherever It Dwells and Wherever It Breeds." Saul nods to this, "That's a no duh. Get that. What's the next one?" He looks over at the TV once more and then back to Marcus, "Side question though. Do I get a gun. Or two. Yeah. Two guns." "We'll deal with that later, when you're ready." Marcus replies, before continuing "Respect the Territory of Another." Saul shrugs, "Or as Metallica would say, 'Don't Tread on Me'. So basically I be humble, ask for everything and just in general be respectful and play nice and such. Check." "Yes. And when it comes to your territory, you can expect the same." Marcus replies. Saul nods, "Awesome. I guess that comes later too though." He continues eating his sandwhich. Chaney yawns hugely and shifts around, curling up against one of the throw pillows against the arm of the couch. She more or less ignores the talking and is only half paying attention to the colorized war movie. "Indeed. But the Litany does protect you from the very moment you come into our hands. But we'll get to that later. Next is Accept Honorable Surrender." Saul ahs and understands that one fully now, "Or when someone says stop to stop beating the shit out of them, you should. I learned that last night." "Good." Marcus nods. "Next is the one you mistakenly thought came first. Submission to Those of Higher Station." Saul finishes his sandwhich and washes it down, "Yeah... Definitely got that one." He caps his soda bottle and sets it on the floor and starts in on the chips. Marcus continues on, ignoring everything else. "The First Share of the Kill for the Greatest in Station." Saul frowns at this, "Uh...You and Nat get the first pick of the pizza?" He shrugs, not getting how this one applies in the least. "Well, yes. But we'll come back to that later." Marcus replies. "Ye Shall Not Eat the Flesh of Humans." At this his sandwhich gathers troops, forms a militia, and tries to storm back up his throat but he manages to keep it down, though he does turn a nice shade of sickly green, "Yick!" Chaney's eyelids flicker open at the exclamation from Saul, and the other cub gets a taste of those guileless blue eyes. Then she yawns again, shifts around to get more comfortable, and goes back into a doze. "Indeed." Marcus smiles a humorless smile. "Respect for Those Beneath Ye - All Are of Gaia. That's the one that protects you." Saul takes a large swig of his soda and gestures for him to go on while swallowing, "Could you explain that one a bit more so I don't have to test my boundaries?" "If you're obeying the Litany, you're ok." Marcus replies. "It's simple enough. Let's put it in these terms. You start hitting on my fiancee. Obviously I'm not going to tolerate that. So I tell you to stop. You don't. I'm fully within my rights to beat you up." Another humorless smile. "I cannot, however, beat you up because I am having a bad day and you are there." There's a pause. "Care to tell me at which point in my example you started breaking the Litany?" "Err...when I didn't stop hitting on your girlfriend?" He raises a brow. An example and a warning. Interesting. "Exactly." Marcus smiles toothily. "Possibly even just hitting on her, but that's contentious and a lot of Kin, Emily included, wouldn't like the idea of being 'territory'." Saul ahs, "I wouldn't think that that would go over too well." He stands up, "Sorry, Marcus, but I need to get some sleep. I got an hour last night." He picks up his trash and starts walking out, "See ya later?" "Of course." Marcus nods. "We'll continue later." Chaney is already conked out on the couch, all curled up in a way that some might find fetchingly adorable. Dirk, maybe. Marcus, of course, would shoot Dirk before he let him near Chaney. "Bedtime." He rolls his eyes, shifting to Glabro to carry the girl upstairs and out of the way. And Chaney, mumbling underbreath, snuggles her head against Marcus's shoulder as she's carried up and put to bed. You paged the room with 'Yer gettin' soft, DeFalco. :D'. From afar, to the room, Marcus will be giving money to Gnawers if this carries on. You paged the room with 'Stay soft only with us and you can be even _meaner_ to the others. Especially the Gnawers. :D'. Marcus pages to the room: Very true!