2/1/2005

05:16 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Currently the moon is in the waning Half Moon phase (49% full).
Currently in Saint Claire, it is mostly sunny today. The temperature is 53 degrees Fahrenheit (11 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the south at 6 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.41 and falling, and the relative humidity is 61 percent. The dewpoint is 40 degrees Fahrenheit (4 degrees Celsius.)

Converted Warehouse - Shadow's End(#3589RAJh)

Track lighting along the 30 foot skylighted ceiling in this spacious complex accents the smaller sconces along the walls every 10 feet or so, keeping the entire area adequately lit, even while allowing shadows to play in odd areas during the night. Over all, the entire effect is dark and post-modern in places, warm and inviting in others. On one side of the lower floor, a spiral staircase leads up to a mezzanine that stretches along one entire side of the place. Two suites with separate baths can be found there, nearly a perfect match to the two downstairs. One of the downstairs suites is larger than the rest, though all of them seem excellently appointed. The end of the apartment nearest the entrance contains a large rec room with a comfortable-looking sofa, several leather recliners and a high-end entertainment system. The other end of the apartment contains an impressive workout room, complete with free weights, and other assorted fitness equipment. The center of the lower floor contains an open kitchen area. A sprawling, dark-grey counter surrounds a set of expensive-looking burnished appliances. Charcoal grey carpeting covers the floor and huge, vertical blinds hang near the workout area, covering windows that stretch halfway to the ceiling and overlook the river.

Contents:
Lucas
Obvious exits:
Elevator

Things aren't looking any improved for the Ahroun, still kept tied down and drugged. As of late, the dosage has been lessened, enough for him to be only greatly lethergic instead of incoherent, but not enough to let him get the concentration needed to shift. At least he can eat, but even that hasn't been much. The amount of morphine avalible must be running low. Emily may be a nurse, but she can't have run off with much, and drugs only come in small vials. Sooner or later, someone's gonna have to get more, or find another way to keep Lucas down. No telling how much control he'd have over himself at this point now.

Kenneth comes down the stairs, eyes travelling to the spot where everyday, the ahroun has been moved from bed to common area. High collar on his jacket turned up, the halfmoon curls his upper lip in a grimace at the mere sight of the ahroun. Moon riding him even though it's only just starting to get dusky outside, the philodox controls his expression to maintain a semblance of composure. "How you feelin' today?" he asks as he descends, a customary question by now.

"Like shit." Comes the groggy answer from Lucas, who's body is still riddled with cuts and bruises that just seem to not want to heal regardless of how much time passes. By now, unless he's been squirted off from time to time, the Ahroun's in need of a good shower and a spray of Febreeze for good measure. He's still not right, that sort of clingy feeling that you can't shake off easy, like you've spent too much time in the hospital and can't quite forget the smell of sickness.

Kenneth makes his way over, peering down at the other. "Ain't that the truth," he remarks, though it is said more as a statement of fact than it is any sort of sarcastic note. "You coherent enough to talk today, or should I just stew up some more of that cream of wheat stuff?"

Send flowers. Or hate letters. Whichever. Lucas gives a slight sort of scowl. "No... can't eat anymore of that." He mumbles and shifts, finding himself increasingly stiff and sore from lack of movement. "What's going on?"

Kenneth straights up and takes a step back from the ahroun, a wariness of a bird watching a sleeping cat even through a window. "The clock on you is ticking," he replies. "Jarred's given Dillen and me a week to figure out how the hell we're going to get you under control, or your neck is gonna hang in the elder's noose. Shit." Just talking about it gets the halfmoon irritated easily, and he puts a set of fingers to his temple. "I can't believe you man."

Lucas gives a low, rattly growl in response, eyes clouding for a quick second before the drugs beat everything back down and the Ahroun slumps closer to the ground. "...fuck." He grunts with a grimace.

Kenneth walks off towards the kitchen. "I'll get somethin' for you," he mumbles, just loud enough so that the ahroun can hear him, but not detect whatever emotion is whirling in the philodox's tone. The fridge door opens, and some shuffling about, and afterwards the sound of fruit getting cut up follows. Minutes after, the halfmoon returns with a plate and a couple of peeled apples cut into thinnish slices. He sits upon an ottoman, and crunches down on one of the slices. "What happened to you? I know you got more sense in you than to go off an' chow down."

Lucas shifts his arms behind them, feeling the cramp folled by a shooting jet of pins and needles from fingers to shoulders. Sighing, he gives up his half-hearted fidgiting. "...I was really pissed. Just was. I went there to cool off."

Kenneth sighs as well, still chewing. "Why didn't you stay here like you normally do on the full?"

"Cause I was tired of shredding the fucking furniture!" Lucas growls out in a sudden mood flip, the muscles in his arms tensing.

Kenneth looks up at the ahroun, chewing stopped and hands tense around the plate of sliced fruit. "Don't get your panties in a twist," states the philodox clearly, dark eyes on alert. "I don't have any gift that senses Wyrm, but... fuck Lucas you're headed there on the first and fastest train since you can't get ahold of yourself."

At this point, one doesn't need much else but their own eyes to see Lucas is fighting a losing battle with himself, a war of wills where one voice is dominating the other by sheer force and fury. The wounds he has seem to grow even angrier, redder, and swollen with his internal fighting and it takes him a good half a minute and maybe a bit more to get himself settled back down, breathing heavily.

Kenneth watches, waiting for the black fur and blood to fly. It's not until the ahroun resettles that he dares to stand up and leave him again. The kitchen sounds with some more clinking and clanking, and the halfmoon returns sans fruit. "I told a couple others. Dillen and I, we're workin' some angles," he states evenly. "Jamethon's said he might know something. Stacey... Stacey's worried 'bout you, but she said she'd try to come and visit or something. Hopefully when Jarred's not around." The halfmoon pauses, watching once more to see if the fullmoon has a further adverse reaction. Blowing out a sigh, he sits down again.

This time Lucas remains calm, or as calm as he possible can be. There remains, though, a bitter expression on his tired, lined, and worn face. "...sounds like I got a fan club..." He mutters joylessly and tries to shift himself so he can maybe lean on the weights at one end of the bar or the other, but he'd tied down too well to move much at all.

Kenneth gazes just as near blandly as the ahroun's tone is. "It'll be Caesar's Senate soon enough," he notes. Tilting his chin slightly, the halfmoon stands up again. "Just seein' you like this... fuckin' hell." He flops back down, clearly undecided whether he should do either action. "Look. Jamethon sounded like he really knew some sort of plan. But he's also the guy who told me to challenge your ass to fight to death or submission." The halfmoon shakes his head. "Typical Get. Anyway, Dillen's workin' on some other Get theurge named Gunnar... but Jamethon's sayin' he might know something. What we need though... is for you to cooperate. And maybe sign a contract or two that has a death clause."

Lucas looks like he might roll his eyes but doesn't. "Gunnar? The guy who talks to dead elders in his head? ...I feel relieved." He slumps a bit more and narrows his eyes at the carpet.

Kenneth shakes his head. "I don't know 'im, but you sound like you do. Yeah, Him. Face it, we're fuckin' pathetic and desperate. I can't believe I'm even tryin' so damn hard to save your ass." The halfmoon settles on standing. "If anyone's gonna cancel you, fuckin' A they'll have to go through me first." The halfmoon must mean it, though it's hard to say as he turns off to do a round of pacing. "Sides... you gotta get your head back on straight and retake Alpha of Requiem."

Lucas is well aware how sad they are and doesn't need the reminding. Especially since he's the worst of them. "...who's in charge?" He murmurs as his eyes follow the Philodox's pacing, though he figures he has a good idea already.

Kenneth doesn't answer straight away. Lion like pacing continues, until he can walk off the irritation. "Dillen. Only because I don't need no more trouble than I already have." The halfmoon shoots a look at the ahroun, as if daring him to make further comment. "How the hell is it that you can end up freakin' out now and not have freaked out when we were facing a room full of vampires armed with silver... I have no fuckin' clue." The pacing resumes.

Lucas just gives his shoulders a faint shrug and doesn't say anything. He just sits there and quietly shifts and rattles his own chains, sighing in silence when he finds only he's gotten weaker instead of the chains.

Kenneth mutters things to himself under his breath, all in a Japanese tongue, before he stops and watches the ahroun again. "Just tell me one thing, Lucas. Just one. Do you want to live?"

Lucas gives the halfmoon a sharp look through drug-sunken blur eyes. "Yes." He says in a tone, despite quiet, has a lot of weight, like there was an unspoken 'whatever it takes' tagged onto the end. If there's one thing Lucas has always been about, it's surviving.

Kenneth meets blue with black, for a long moment judging whether or not it's sincere. Then, he makes his way over and with a greater effort than normal, lifts off the weights that hold down the ahroun. The metal clanks heavily on the floor where he sets them, before he straightens and wipes his hands off with a few swipes against his jeans. "Then we start now. I ain't takin' your chains off or the drugs out. But this is the first thing I'm gonna do. The rest, up to you. Once we find some others we can trust, we'll get someone to check you out for Taint or some shit like that. Then we do whatever it is that comes next. Step at a time. Ain't no fuckin' way you're gonna just give in to this." He jabs a finger towards the ahroun. "Jus' remember. No one gets to you 'cept through Me." A pause. "Me and Dillen."

Lucas doesn't seem in any real hurry to stand, but then, he probably just hasn't been on his feet much lately. He slowly shifts with a grimace of pain as the muscles in his legs flare with protest. He pushes himself up, wary of his balance since he can't go flailing chained arms to help stay upright, and after a minute or two finally manages to stand straight without wobbling much.

"One week, Lucas. No, less than a week," Kenneth utters, watching the ahroun stand up on his own. He breathes out, throat suddenly dried. "If you don't pull this off..." starts the philodox, and then he shakes his head, not finishing. Instead, he pushes the ottoman over with his foot so that the ahroun can sit instead of stand or kneel. "Maybe tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow Jarred'll say the drugs can come out." He shifts his gaze to the large windows, where night has finally fallen. "Moon's gettin' small too."

Lucas soon decides sitting is better than standing, and at least the ottoman is softer than the floor - regardless of how plush the carpet is. He lets out a sigh as he rests his chained hands behind him, feeling his head spin slightly due to the said drugs and murmurs. "Doubt the moon'll matter. I lost it on the new moon before."

Kenneth shrugs a shoulder. "And I've got a stick shoved up my ass everyday too," he utters, not looking back to the ahroun. "But you can't get addicted to morphine either." Here he gazes back to Lucas. "It's too freakin' expensive. Even for Jarred."

"He got it from Emily." Lucas says quietly, seated on an ottoman in front of Kenneth, slumped slightly from morphine, the chains on his wrists, and too long of being weighed down to the floor. "She got it from work. Works with the Coggie kin in Kent Crossing."

"Oh and like /you're/ gonna go get a fix every time you feel a little anger comin' on," Kenneth remarks as he watches the night scene outside the windows, the sarcasm just subtlely coloring his voice. "No matter what, you're pullin' through this shit-track straight or you're not gonna pull through at all." The halfmoon folds his arms, jacket fabric scraping together.

"In less than a week?" Lucas says with a slight snort, his determination fizzling slightly into a bitter pessemism. "Sorry if I'm not too enthusiastic in my chances." He mutters and hunches up his shoulders to stare out one of the big windows.

"We've been up against worse," Kenneth notes with an undertone that betrays his cynicism as well, try as he might to cover it. "But I seriously doubt Jarred's gonna throw you over to Megan and the other elders. It'd make him look bad. And we know how concerned Jarred is about his 'image'." The quotes are really evident. "Fuck, even I have to get my act together." He slips down onto another ottoman. "There's nowhere to go but up from here."

The buzzer at the front of the building announces a new arrival.

"Don't jinx it anymore than it is." Lucas warns sulkingly as he half closes his eyes to let out a gruff sigh. The buzzer does get his attention, though. Anyone he knows generally walks in.

Kenneth looks over towards the elevator first at the non-too familiar sound, before getting up and answering the buzzer with a touch of the intercom. "Who's there?" His voice deliberately gruff and uninviting, it's not often the End gets disturbed with strangers.

Stacey says "Stacey," a young, soft voice answers. "Stacey Kynds."

Lucas furrows his brows slightly at the declaration and glances to Kenneth, but says nothing.

Kenneth looks over to the ahroun shortly, before pressing the intercom button again. "Come on up," he replies and cuts the intercom off. The halfmoon moves over beside the elevator, awaiting the Child of Gaia.

A moment later the elevator opens and in steps Stacey, carrying a brown grocery bag. "Hey Kenneth, Lucas," she says, giving them a tentative smile before stepping further into the room.

Lucas doesn't get up from his ottoman and gives the Gaian a careful look from his distance. To her, he'd most certainly look like a mess. His eyes are dark and sunken in and despite the drugs that keep him pretty sluggish he still seems really tense, like he was straining against his own skin from the inside out. His hair is a bit scraggly and probably in need of a good brushing, and just overall he looks more like an escaped convict than a Garou and suspended pack Alpha.

Kenneth gestures with a jerk of his head towards the crazy Gary Oldman of an ahroun. "Hey. So you did come. Here's over there." More importantly though, the halfmoon's eyes settle on the bag the girl is holding. His expression is searching, and a good thing that he has no X-ray vision.

Stacey's smile wavers as she looks over at Lucas, but she regains it quickly enough. Her green eyes, though, betray some worry, and a sort of sadness. "Of course I came." Noticing Kenneth's gaze, she pats the bag, smile widening. "I brought a little something for you guys. It's not much but..." She stops and looks around for a table or something where she can put the stuff.

Lucas shifts slightly, grimacing as he still feels stiff, sore, and increasingly cranky again. "Hey." He murmurs as Stacey looks over to him and then looks back out the window where it's night outside.

Kenneth tilts his head, blinking once at the Child. "Er," he mumbles at first and then motions towards the glass coffee table in front of the couch. "Could put it there. Or if it's food... the kitchen." Now that she's here, what next is rather unplanned. "You found your way 'round here alright? Lucas an' I don't gotta kick some pedo's ass right?"

Stacey shakes her head. "Nah, I'm fine. Nothin' too exciting happened." She then starts walking towards the kitchen. "Most of it's food. I brought a couple sub sandwiches. Didn't know what ya like so I got different kinds: ham and turkey."

Lucas can only remember what real food tastes like. Damn organic food. Damn battle scar. Damn Fenris! The Ahroun Lord hunkers down slightly more in what Kenneth could easily identify as a silent grump. At least some of the good old Lucas is still in there.

Kenneth slips over towards the Child of Gaia, and in the end of her explanation, whispers in her ear. After that, he straightens up and looks back over to his tribemate in chains.

You whisper "Lucas' can't eat nothin' but organic foods. Otherwise he'll hurl. Battlescar from fightin' Fenris..." to Stacey.

Stacey stares at him, looking horrified. She winces and then says, "I am sorry. I did not know." Then she leans over to whisper back to Kenneth.

Meanwhile, Lucas seems to have decided to try the whole standing thing again. He takes a few steps, feeling unused and cramped muscle still pulling slightly, but it's more his unhealed wounds that get to him and he's forced to sit back down again - this time claiming the empty couch.

Stacey whispers "Then it can be for you and Dillen. Anything else I should know?"

Kenneth bends slightly, head tilting to listen to the whisper, but then in reply shakes his head to the Child. "Anyway, Lucas an' I were just talkin' some. I..." He pauses, watching the ahroun work on standing up for the second time in awhile. "I told 'im that I told you. So, yeah. So far, I don't got anymore ideas 'cept to go back to Jamethon and ask him what he talked about the other day. That, and wait for Dillen to get back on what Gunnar says."

Stacey sets the bag in the kitchen and then comes back out, hands stuffed in her pockets. She listens to Kenneth, raising her brows slightly as he speaks. "I see... Yet you told me that Jamethon did not know... everything about the situation. How will he know how to guide you? And will Gunnar know everything or get an edited version?"

Kenneth slowly looks over Lucas' chains. "He'll know whatever Dillen decides to tell him. Either way, the truth'll come out sooner or later. Right now, I'm worried that Lucas' spirit's gettin' sucked on by something bad or whatever in the Shadow, but I don't want to chance it with the moon gettin' smaller." He glances back to the Child. "You know anyone who's Wyrm-sensy but doesn't got a loose tongue?"

Lucas remains on the couch this time, having begun to blankly stare at the black screened television. His eyes are half closed and he seems to have gone quiet, until he gives a faint twitch and rubs his shoulder against the back of the couch. Hm, someone must have an itch.

Stacey bites her lip and looks downward. "Not sure if the ones I know /would/ keep their mouths shut." She looks up again. "What of Jamethon? Ya trust him enough to have him check? He's a pretty high rank, likely he'd have it."

Kenneth shrugs, looking over the itchy ahroun. "I figured to ask if he knew how to handle the Rage, since even though he's a theurge and fostern, he's also Get. Pretty much it's what we can work on, until I can find Cutter." The halfmoon's tone slips with a degree of doubt under the tension. "Trust me, I don't like lookin' at your drugged up mug any more than you would if you saw yourself in a mirror," he notes aloud to his tribemate. "But as far's I know, this is what we can do on our own."

Lucas settles back down again as he stares at the television, and seems to be quiet, except for the faintest sounds like he was muttering to himself. It's something he's been heard to do once or twice since having been bodily hauled back here and chained, but always too low to make out.

Stacey gives Kenneth a slight smile. "Just promise me you guys won't give up hoping, because then you've already lost. What you need to do, Kenneth, is find someone to check him and cleanse him if needed. Then you'll be able to work on dealing with the rage." She nods towards Lucas. "And the drugs... sooner he can get off that, the better."

"Tch," Kenneth snorts roughly first, but seeing Stacey's smile he glances back to the ahroun. "Not like we didn't have this problem back when he was a cub either," he mutters. "It's just that now it seems to be gettin' worse every turn of the moon. But like I said before... if fuckin' White Bear can keep from frenzying at the drop of a hat, then he better learn to do it too."

Stacey nods, frowning. "So you've known..." She sighs. "White Bear's also out near the bawn when he frenzies. An Ahroun... or any Garou... with so much rage should not be in the city or near humans, probably not even cubs, around full moons. Probably already telling you what you know, but..." The Child leans forward, looking at Kenneth intently. "you and Dillen need to look out for him from now on, as his packmates. I mean, keep him out of the city, help him with controlling his rage, that sort. I'd either make sure you know /exactly/ where he is or stick with him around full moons, at least until he gains some control." She nods, glancing over at Lucas. "He can do it, though, I know he can, given the chance. Just take work."

Kenneth looks back at Stacey, staring at her like what she suggested at first was incredulous as her statement to him before of Lucas being her friend. Then, with a quick shake of his head, the halfmoon dispels that disbelief and looks back to the ahroun. "Wakat-... I mean, I get it. When it all boils down... ahrouns are ahrouns." The Philodox looks again like he's going to have a headache, and moves away from the two. "You catch all that Lucas?"

Lucas is still mostly just staring at the blank television like the words 'Lucas, this is God' were written across them. But no, it's as blank as the day it came out of the shipping box. It's a good bet he's missed the entire conversation.

Stacey frowns at Kenneth's reaction, even though he does say he understands, and takes a step towards him as he moves away. "He /needs/ his packmates now, Kenneth. I'm sorry if this will be hard for you, but... isn't the alternative worse?" She shakes her head. "If one of you, either you or Dillen, is not willing to look out for your friend, then I will." She crosses her arms, lifts her chin stubbornly, and then adds, "Somehow."

Kenneth turns back around - more like whirls back around. "No! That's F--, that's unacceptable!" The halfmoon stares hard at the Child, feeling his shoulder muscles tighten as he looks back and forth from chained ahroun to free ahroun. "I mean, no. Grrnngh..." Again, he clenches his fists and fights down the headache. "Lucas... Lucas, for Christ's sake put your say in it." Then he jerks his gaze back up to the Child. "Look. He's gotta do it himself! All we can do is stand by with a Big F... a Big Stick to whack him over the head with or something. But I'm Sure As Hell not going to play babysitter to him!"

What a lovely, lovely television. So full of purpose and quietly spoken messages. It has the secrets of the universe, yes it does. Stare.

Stacey sighs and uncrosses her arms. "Kenneth," she says, trying to keep her voice even and low. "I'm not asking you to be his babysitter. Just... be his friend, you know? If that means standing around and whacking him over the head when you feel threatened, then whatever. At least you guys are /there/ and he is not... repeating history. That's my main concern, all right? Yeah, he himself needs to learn how to control his rage - eventually without your help, without any form of drug - but I do believe he'll need encouragement, ya know? If something seems to help his rage, nudge him that way, you know? Not asking you to babysit him, just be aware that he's a friend that needs a bit of help now, until he gets back on his feet."

"And how do you propose he do all this within a freakin' week?" Kenneth snaps back, looking very much like he could use a lesson in controlling his own rage. The tension crashes against his system again like a wave against a rock cliff. The philodox shuts his eyes and groans aloud, turning sideways with fingers to his temple and looking rather irritated and flustered by the incessant optimism of the Child. "I swear Stacey..." he starts to mutter, eyeing his tribemate with no disguise of 'I hate you, you got me into this'.

Lucas furrows his eyebrows tightly together, in a sudden look of extreme concentration, and then slowly looks away from the television and from one Garou to the other. "Ken'... still got those carrot sticks in the fridge?"

Stacey opens her mouth to answer Kenneth, but is completely thrown off track by Lucas' question. Her smile returns, faintly, and then she reaches back into her pocket and pulls out something blue. "For you," she says to the Philodox before he can leave for the kitchen, tossing it lightly to him. It's a small, soft, cloth ball that's been filled with something like flour or ground rice. "Supposed to relieve stress. Or so the sign said in the store. Got one for Dillen and Lucas, too."

The Philodox's flow of anger gets diverted with the Lord ahroun's query. "What?" Kenneth blinks twice, as if he'd missed Lucas' question at first, and then clears his throat roughly and mutters in reply. "Y-yeah, I think we do." Of course before he can leave, the small stress ball is tossed at him. Distracted as he is, he misses catching it and it flops on his foot. Kenneth bends down to snatch it up, ball squishing in his hand. "A stress ball. Right." The halfmoon clenches hard, but there's a lot of give on the material. He looks back over to the Coggie, lips parting to say something else, and then he just shakes his head. "Er, thanks." The halfmoon proceeds to the kitchen to retrieve said organic carrot sticks.

Lucas waits for the carrots as he peers at Stacey. "...so...how's it going?" He murmurs, looking tired and withdrawn again.

Stacey gives him a smile. Taking a moment to answer as she tries to decide what he meant by 'it'. "With me? Not bad," she says finally. "Cliath now. Named Walks-the-Middle-Road." She falls silent and waits for Kenneth to get back so she can answer his last question.

Lots of grumblings in foreign tongue can be heard from the kitchen. When Kenneth returns, it's with carrot sticks (sans Ranch dressing) and the now slightly brown tinged apple slices he'd cut up from earlier. A bulge in the pocket of his jacket tells of where the stress ball had disappeared to. "Here." One plate set in front of the Lord, and the other being pushed towards Stacey, he looks at the girl begrudgingly. "You know a stress ball isn't gonna take out the Rage factor right?"

Stacey smirks and nods as she sets the other two balls on the table. "Yeah, I know. Just trying to cheer ya a bit. Besides, they're fun." Her smile fades a bit and she glances at Lucas. "As to your question, you need to, either tonight or tomorrow, get someone to check him for taint and cleanse him if needed. You don't have the time to postpone that any further. Choose the person you trust the most and get them over here. Then, yeah, the idea of getting advice about rage from Jamethon is good. That's the next thing I'd do."

Kenneth eyes the other two balls, and then slowly eases himself down onto the arm of the couch. His arms fold over his chest, as he keeps his back to the ahroun... perhaps a sign of trust that he won't be attacked, or that the drugs must still be working. "Yeah. I don't know the Wyrm sense gift, and I don't think Jarred knows. Maybe Cutter might, but, it's kind of hard gettin' ahold of him. Anyway, I gotta talk to Dillen and see what he's told Gunnar. And after that... see if Jarred'll let Lucas out of here and bring 'im to the bawn or something." His hand slips into his jacket, squeezing the ball as he thinks aloud, "Damned if we don't, damned if we do. I don't want this to be a big deal, but wasn't there somethin' about gettin' permissions before any rites could be performed on the bawn..." The philodox mutters, trying to remember, but apparently someone must have fallen asleep in that lecture.

Stacey shrugs. "Well, whoever knows the Rite will surely know what's permissible and what's not in performing it, ya know? Sounds like you guys got an okay plan, then. Just don't wait too long in doing everything, okay?" She glances over at Lucas and then back to the Philodox. "Think you can keep me updated on what's going on? And let me know if there's anything I can do or anything I might be able to get. Like I said last night, I want to help if I can. Not only this week, but if there's anything I can do afterwards to help, you just have to let me know."

Kenneth glances from carrot-cruncher to Child. "Enh," he utters as a non-committal, the hand in his jacket pocket stopped. "Just, if you see Jamethon..." The philodox thinks some more, and continues, "... just, keep this a secret until it can get worked out. As far as updates go, I'll drop by in the woods, see if I can find Jamethon again. Moon's gettin' thin though." He glances back to Lucas, the ahroun still chewing methodically on orange vegetable sticks. "I think you better go," he says quietly. "Jarred's probably gonna be back soon."

Stacey nods. "I've already given my word. You know I won't tell." She stretches and then steps towards the elevator, then she stops, looking downward. "Thank you for allowing me to come over," she says softly, "and for telling me... and... I have faith that everything will work out. At least, I darn well hope so. Anyways, yeah, I'd better head back. Take care of yourself, both of you."

Kenneth swallows down what harsh reply he has prepared, watching the Child go. "Yea. See ya," he replies instead, not daring to say more to her. The elevator doors open with a customary ding! and the philodox tilts his chin once in final departure send-off.