Closing Your Eyes Makes You Blind

4/12/2005

06:09 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Currently the moon is in the waxing Crescent Moon phase (25% full).
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 45 degrees Fahrenheit (7 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southwest at 14 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.94 and rising, and the relative humidity is 79 percent. The dewpoint is 39 degrees Fahrenheit (3 degrees Celsius.)
It is currently 17:45 Pacific Time on Tue Apr 12 2005.

Farmhouse: Hallway and Living Room
All doorways in the front part of the house lead to the front hallway, a J-shaped area with the short tail starting at the stairs, the front door hitting the bottom curve, the doorless opening to the living room halfway up the long side, and the also doorless opening to the kitchen and dining room at the very top. The hall has a simple wooden floor, and decorated with a generic print of soft-colored flowers hanging on the wall to the right of the front door, and a tall table sitting under the print which serves as a place to toss keys. A closet under the stairs serves as a place to hang coats or to toss shoes.
The doorless opening to the living room is halfway up the side of the hall's J, and the word cozy might spring to mind when looking into is, as it seems to radiate comforting vibrations. A long couch sits against the south wall beneath a large bay window curtained only by sheers that manages to obscure the view in but only filters the day's light. A variety of out-of-date magazines are strewn atop a low coffee table; more neatly presented are the plethora of books filling the small bookshelves which line the eastern wall. Three chairs sit about the room, focused inward, to allow group conversations. Large floor pillows are stacked in one corner of the room, except one, which lies carelessly in the middle of the floor, apparently left out the last time it was used.
An opening in the northern end of the hallway allows access to the kitchen and dining room at the back of the house, while carpeted stairs twist up at the other end of the hall, leading to the second floor. A door at the base of the J lets out to the front porch.
(Non-Garou, please "+view curse")
Contents:
Olga(#4061PJceq)
NOTE: Current Farmhouse Residents (Updated: Mar 29)
Obvious exits:
Kitchen/Dining Room  Front Door  STairs  

The back kitchen echoes with the sound of the sliding door being opened and shut. Footsteps and then the fridge door opening, glass clinking, and shutting also follow. The Gnawer ragabash, Yi, then proceeds down the hallway to the living room, with a bottle of water in hand, quiet and observing for farmhouse residents in house this evening.

The farmhouse living room is soft yellow colour, the evening sun, low to the ground, slips in through the window and paints shadows against the opposite wall. Olga is asleep on the couch, though the woman, thankfully, hasn't yet begun to snore, just sniffling little breaths. Her skin is clean and her clothes are borrowed, and, while too small, at least free of the grimy smell of sweat and the city. One arm is draped across her face like a blindfold, blotting out the sunlight, and her leg dangles off the couch like a crane arm.

Yi pauses when she sees the sleeping theurge on the couch, pondering quietly. Her hand twists the bottlecap of water, cracking it open with a muffled snapping of plastic disconnecting from plastic. She takes a sip, and inches a bit closer, looking down upon the theurge's obscured features with a soft smile. That smile slowly turns into a bit more mischievious grin as the newmoon looks from her water bottle to the theurge, to water bottle, to theurge...

Holly pushes through the front door from the porch. The theurge shakes dampness and cold from her jacket before closing the door behind her. In all, her entrance is quiet enough not to wake the sleeping Olga, but it practically puts her in front of Yi. The Wendigo sees the mischievous look, glances at the sleeping Gnawer, then glances back to Yi. There is a quick, sudden smile on the younger theurge's face, and she nearly has to stifle a laugh with her hand. Both hands then go up in the air--as if Holly were surrendering to bandits--and she backs off toward the kitchen. She apparently wants nothing to do with whatever Yi might be planning.

There's a stifled, stuttering wheeze, like someone had cruelly placed a Lego block on the Gnawer's upper lip so that whn she inhales she tries to suck it back down a nostril, without too much luck. Other than that horrible grating sound though, which seems to punch right through the walls and stream out the doorways, she doesn't stir.

Yi glances up at Holly when the theurge comes in, and grin meets smile for that brief second. The ragabash puts a hand to her lips in a 'shh' motion, and as Holly makes a wise retreat, Yi slips even closer to the theurge. The uncapped waterbottle is creaked out over the theurge's covered face, and right as Olga is inhaling once more, Yi tilts the bottle juuuuust enough that a small splash of liquid flows out and mini-cascades down right onto the sleeping theurge.

Holly continues to back up. Her intent is to go to the kitchen, but her insatiable curiosity keeps her from making a complete retreat. She winds up in the archway between kitchen and living room, watching the Gnawers.

Olga comes out of sleep sputtering and scrambling, arms waving flailing like a shoddily constructed windmill, legs struggling to find the ground. She lurches up to her feet, slapping water off her face and looking around with both surprise and murderous intent in her squinty eyes. It's all overblown though, exaggerated, and when she discovers in the few scant seconds since waking who's done it, a fiendish grin curls up beneath her nose and she stares at the Ragabash, her shoulders hunched up and remaining, for a little while at least, very still.

Yi dances back like a fox from a hound's tooth, tongue tip sticking out from between her teeth in a silly wolf manner. The waterbottle is clutched close, marking her distinctly as the one and only culprit of the prank. "Good morning Sleeping Beauty," she greets her tribal elder with the tonguetip slipping away into a warm smile. "I take it since you are here now, Christine must be too." She glances back to Holly then lurking in the hallway, and dips her head to the Wendigo. "Hello Holly." Just that moment, the ragabash is vulnerable as she's looking away from the still Gnawer elder.

Holly, when the Gnawer theurge stirs, finally finds the kitchen and retreats quickly enough. A small, muffled giggle finds its way back to the living room, but the theurge doesn't show her face for another few moments, emerging with a soda in her hands. she pops the top and takes a sip.

After a few seconds worth of fierce mischievous stares Olga gives up, apparently unable to think of an appropriate retaliation. Instead she just stomps back towards the couch, to curl up sleepily in the curve of the arm, as far away from Yi this time as she can get. "Yeah," she confirms blearily, in the middle of a yawn. "She's here." She does, at least, once she's settled in, send a small throw pillow whipping along towards the Ragabash' head, but it's the least she could do, really.

Yi is still looking at Holly's direction when the pillow is thrown. When she turns back to listen to Olga, she parting lips kiss fabric with a light Whump. The pillow drops off, reflects from her crooked arm with the waterbottle and thuds on the floor softly, revealing Yi's stunned expression. Then, the ragabash bursts out laughing, and wipes the residual feeling of pillow on her face before she drops down right atop of it on the floor. "We are tied," she says with a smirk at her elder. "But I'll get you again yet. Never sleep when a ragabash is around." The newmoon tips back her water, taking a sip. Then, another glance towards Holly before Yi asks, "What happened out there with Christine then?" The question is meant for the Gnawer theurge though.

Holly watches the exchange between the Gnawers with fond amusement--an expression that slowly fades into something more enigmatically thoughtful. "Who's Christine?" she asks without coming further into the room, or getting closer to either Gnawer.

[look Holly]
She stands about five foot five with a thin build, somewhere in the mid teens. Despite this, pudgy cheeks lend her a cheerful countenance. Her nose has that wide, fairly flat set common among Native Americans. Likewise, her eyes bear a small epicanthic fold that gives them an oriental cast. The eyes themselves are a deep brown, so dark that in certain light they appear black. Thin brows and thick lips are expressive in an oval face. Her black hair is cut short and parted to one side in a tomboyish style, though her high cheekbones and lithe frame are thoroughly feminine. Her skin's cast is a pretty milked-coffee color, smooth and dramatic.
She wears a pair of khaki colored cargo pants with hiking shoes. A long-sleeved white blouse is worn under a grey, hooded fleece jacket. Over this is a jeans jacket with the sleeves cut off, leaving the ends heavily frayed.

Olga can't help but quirk up a small, appreciative grin at Yi's tally, a bit of pride there, a bit of straightforward amusement. She looks over at Holly, and she greets the girl with a small soft smile, welcoming but somewhat unsure, and after a second's hesitation, she taps her palm a couple times at the pillow beside her, inviting her to sit with them. "She's our new cub," the Theurge explains, freely, and then she answers Yi: "She's upstairs, sleepin' I think, or maybe just stewing, you know how she is. She's doing, ah - well, she looks drained, to me. I'm hopin' taking her out to the Umbra when Luna's got her face on again might help things."

Yi nods along with Olga's answer about IDing the cub. "Do we know her auspice yet?" she asks further, another sip of the water reaching her lips. "And I think if you've been here, maybe you noticed the lost fullmoon cub, Basil. He seems to be curious about the Gnawers, but also has some interest with the spirits as well." She glances between the theurges, and then particularly to Holly. "And it has been awhile since I saw you too..." she notes at the Guardian. "Holly, correct?"

Holly, at the invitation, moves toward the couch. Holding her soda can in one hand, she folds a leg beneath her and settles into the offered seat. "Thanks," she tells Olga, glancing at the stairs and nodding her understanding regarding Christine. The theurge allows the two Gnawers to talk about their cub while she simply sips her drink, but when Yi addresses her, she smiles. "Correct. Or Turtle. Or Bites. Whichever."

Olga's smile at Holly's introduction is thin and slightly forced, there's a nervousness to the way she sits beside her, a sense of pressure there, like she's worried she might say something wrong. "Yeah, I talked to Basil," she answers Yi simply, looking up, licking at her dry lips. "Boy talks a lot. If he decides he wants us though, we'll take 'im, 'course. And no, don't know yet what Auspice she is. She was asked when her birthday was but she just said `last month` and I, uh, I decided not to press it."

Yi hms thoughtfully, as she regrets aloud, "I probably should have checked her wallet before she ended up throwing it out of Simon's cab." Taking a minor note of Olga's nervousness, Yi slips on subjects. "We... well, Walks-the-Middle-Road and Nascha Star-Caller and I... decided to call the cub Long-Wind." She smirks a little. "It is a fitting name indeed." Looking back to Holly she nods. "Turtle. That is an interesting name..." she notes, tone curious to its origins.

Holly grins back at Yi. "Cub name, given to me by..." there's a pause as she collects herself to figure out how best to say it, "by another Wendigo cub. She said I was slower than a Turtle. It kind of stuck. Despite how I got it, I kinda like it. Turtle was, after all, middle brother's totem."

Olga's arm comes up, the movement still rather slow and groggy, and though she puts it on Holly's shoulder, gives it a squeeze, she withdraws it quickly, like she's afraid of overstepping her bounds. She doesn't say a word of it. "We should've gone back to grab the bag," Olga says tightly, forcefully shifting mental gears, looking away from them both. Her voice is sharp and wrung through with angry guilt. "Hopefully it won't take too long though, 'fore she's at a stage where she can explain that she `just ran away, and was bein' silly` or something. But could be a rough couple months, depending what she's got in there. Chris know your address?" She looks up at Yi, uncertainly, the ridges of her eybrows all folded together.

Yi smiles back at the Wendigo, expression rather reminiscing. "I remember when Leonard called me 'Speetlum'," she contributes. "He said it was the name of a plant which had a bitter root, but sweet flowers." The ragabash tilts her head in thought, pondering the alias for a moment. Then she looks back to Olga, that uncertainty getting echoed. "I think so," she admits quietly. "But, if my address were found out, I could easily change residence." There's a little hesitation that is unable to be masked, but the ragabash nods slowly again. "If it means staying out here and watching the cubs for awhile, then I can do that."

Holly's smile widens for a moment, even at the mere mention of Leonard. She then grows quiet again when the Gnawers return to talking about their cub. She drinks from her soda and winds up watching Olga much more closely than she had been before. There's something at least slightly unnerving about the Wendigo's silent but thoughtful stare.

Olga admits, hollowly, "I's more worried about you gettin' arrested, Yi." She lets that sit there for a while, she ruminates on it, and her cheeks suck in and she looks for a second like she's going to spit, but finally she ends up just swallowing down like there's a horse pill in her throat. She keeps glancing back at Holly and then looking away, and she does definitely seem unnerved, but finally she does return the stare, manufacturing a weak and uncertain, but hopeful, little grin, which she maintains for a while before looking away again. "She and Basil seem to get on pretty well," she lets out suddenly, like it's a ruse to steer things in a more pleasant direction, though the tone in which the thing's said is rather suggestive and there's a distinct note of disapproval.

Yi wets her lips with another sip and sniffs at the thought of being arrested. "i won't be caught," she notes rather confidently, reassuringly. "Police here are a little more clever than the ones at home, but police are police anyway." The ragabash herself, though, seems eager to move away from talking about cops. "That is good though, that she and Basil might get along well." She blinks at the two theurges, noting how they look at each other. "Although there are no guarantees of him becoming one of Rat's children just yet," she tacks on. "But I admit, I am a little lost on how to convince Christine about us not being the enemy. At least, not without trying to keep from.. hurting her in any way." The ragabash chews on the bottom of her lip. "But cubs are cubs... and they need to be taught about our ways. And some of those ways are not pretty or peaceful."

Holly eventually looks away from the elder Gnawer, but she does not look away for too long. When a lull in their conversation permits it, the Wendigo interrupts, asking, "Is everything alright, Pigeonfeeder?"

The use of that name draws a more genuine and abiding smile to Olga's face, though she drops her head and it ends up being directed at the ground. "Yeah," she says slowly, crooked-lipped. "Yeah, everything's alright, Turtle." She doesn't look at her again but there's no slight in it, and the uncertainty that was spread across her features before is now removed, though a certain strange stillness remains. She looks at Yi now, she considers her words for a while, and then finally agrees with a vagueness intended to preclude guilt, "You gotta do what you gotta do, eh?"

Yi blinks a bit more at Holly when she calls Olga by the nickname, glancing back to the Gnawer theurge to see her reaction. When things seem to ease back over, the ragabash gives Olga another reassuring wink and a smile. "I was dodging the red and blue lights even before I came here," she adds. "It wouldn't change very much about how my life is. And it's a lot harder to avoid the dog-catcher anyway. They don't mind using tranquilizers..." She trails there, looking off with a faked innocence. "I hope Simon can get his car fixed at that one shop. Good, cheap, but some times the repairman looks like he wants to steal more than just car parts." Yi scratches her cheek a couple of times.

Holly accepts Olga's answer, but there's a faint crease in her forehead as she continues to regard the other theurge. She doesn't pursue the subject further, however, and instead asks, "Who's Simon?"

There's a faint and conversational smile on Olga's face as she looks between the two others, head resting limply in her hand. A yawn, the product of her recently interrupted sleep, stretches her lips wide. "He's Gnawer kin," Olga explains to the girl, easily. "Cab-driver." She doesn't expand beyond that, she's fairly unusually tight-lipped, actually, although she does look up at Yi and with an extended index finger, like she's scolding the woman, warn, "If he leaves there one wallet lighter..." but she doesn't finish anything, and the vague threat is, at least very much mostly, jest.

"If he does," Yi replies, "then I'll make sure when I go see them again, I can give Simon his wallet back. And maybe an extra one too." The ragabash grins fox-like, easing around the vague threat. To Holly she nods as well. "He is a good man, Simon. Has helped us a lot without being angry at all our demands." She glances back to Olga then. "We do what we can to make sure he gets no grief from us, at least..."

Holly looks from Gnawer to Gnawer, and although much of the conversation seems lost on her, she does recognize the amusement. It makes her smile, too. tipping her soda up one last time, she drinks the last little sip, stifles a polite burp and sets the empty on the coffee table. "Kin are good to have," she says quietly.

Olga seems entirely pleased by that and she leans langorously back into her chair, but she declines to expand on Yi's description any further, or even agree with Holly; in fact she's quite quick to change the conversation, and she asks, lazily, with a raspy drawl to her voice, "So, Holly, how're things out were the Wendigo are, eh? How've you guys been, any news?"

Yi, noting the switch in topic again, does look to Holly now with no disguise of curiosity. "How is the... Guardian's territory as well?" The question comes with a sideorder of guardedness, however. Like the ragabash is poking her toe into waters she expects to be icy cold.

Holly sighs with the question, and looks Yi's way. "Yes and no," she answers with a shrug. "Can't say nothing's going on, because obviously things have been." With another gesture to Yi, she adds, "But you know about the thing with the human on the bawn. So it's not new news. I miss Jacinta. .. Does that count?" she asks the Gnawer.

Olga confirms with a slow easy look, appreciation that's not quite a smile passing across, "It counts, yeah." She rubs her palm hard against her eyes, trying to wake herself up, but she doesn't bother lifting her head up and she remains looking large and lazy. "She was well, last I saw 'er," she tries to offer the girl. "Still got as much fire in 'er as ever, the city hasn't done shit all to quell it."

Yi slips the bandanna off her head to reveal the short buzz-cut look to her regrowing hair, which she scrubs with a hand. "Yes, I know about Seth," she replies to Holly with a sort of quieted tone. "At least, though, his body can be found by the park rangers and his family will be able to... at least, mourn for him." She clears her throat pointedly after, slipping the water bottle back to her lips for a long drink. Then she swallows, and looks between the two on th couch. "I also must speak to Jacinta soon. I was told she had the Rite of silence, which I think may help in a scouting party going to investigate the source of those tainted farm animals." Looking to Olga, Yi adds on, "And Megan-rhya has said that I should help an Uktena halfmoon, Nascha Star-Caller, to perform her chiminage by directing her towards you, Olga."

Holly smirks in answer to Olga's comments about Jacinta. "Not likely it will, either," she boasts. "Jacinta's been in the scabs before. She knows what's up." Yi's mention of Nascha seems to make the Wendigo's eyes light up. "Really?" she asks Yi. "Did she says what the chiminage is?"

"Oh right," Olga says rather, with more amusement in her voice than disdain, though her tone's at least a little patronizing. "I'm sure she made a name for herself on the mean streets of Nome." She's grinning, in her sleepy way, at her own joke or at something else, and the grin stays stuck there for a long while, until with a surprised start she jerks her attention over to Yi and asks "Huh me what? What do I need a Philodox for, I been good." She sounds, for a couple seconds at least, like she's honestly at least a little worried that she's been caught with her hand in some cookie jar she didn't know she'd been stealing from.

Yi glances back to Holly, head inclining very slightly as she nods. "I believe she said something about Nascha teaching rites, and the Uktena wishes to talk to you about it, Olga." The hand on her head slips back behind her neck, shifting the dog's choke-chain around it slightly. "I was asked to let you know about it."

Holly seems at least slightly confused by Olga's little joke. Gratefully, Yi's comments capture her attention, and the previous subject is all but forgotten. "Oh, speaking of teaching, Pigeonfeeder, I was hoping to talk to you about that too."

Olga looks from one to the other, like she's trying to figure out which to address first. "Well a'right then," she answers Yi, not looking at all disinclined to extract whatever benefit she can from the `help` she's to give. "She'll find me, eh?" she asks, curiously, leaning forward a bit now. She waits a few seconds before adressing Holly, looking at her consideringly, before she finally reaches up a leg so she can poke the other Theurge's belly with her toe, while she invites her, "Talk!"

Yi smiles at this warm and casual exchange between the Gnawer and the Wendigo, reminiscing once more with a slightly distanced look between the two before she looks to Holly as well.

Holly can't help but smile again at the poke. Without looking the other theurge in the eye--choosing instead to watch the toe that had been poking her--she says, "I was hoping, maybe, you'd teach me a Rite. There is one where thanks is given to Gaia, in the form of blood. You know it?"

Olga's head ducks quickly down, and there's a note of seriousness to her face now as she discusses this; not a symphony, just a note. "Yeah," she answers, easily. "It's pretty straightforward, but I been grateful for it a couple times. I don't know how to thank prey animals I kill, so I gotta make that one do; and there've been other times besides, it helped me out. I'm sure the version I learned's different from the way you guys do it, though. We call it Feed the Earth."

Yi peers to the two theurges, curiosity peaking at this discussion. The CantoGnawer shifts her weight a bit on the pillow. "I don't know of this rite," she chimes in. "Though I do know about the one where we can use the bones of a prey to perform for the spirits of its kind, to please them."

Holly agrees with a simple nod, looking both at Yi and then Olga. "Everyone does things differently. But I'd love it if you could teach me. Will you?"

"It's called Feeding the Earth, Yi," Olga answers the Ragabash in slow and measured tones. "At least, that's what I's taught. You thank Gaia for, well, for everything, by spilling out some blood onto the ground. The whole thing's rather involved, 'f course." She turns her eyes, then, to Holly, bobbing her head, saying "'Course, sure, I'll do my best. But I jus' got this new cub," she says, and then her eyes slowly turn to Yi, watching the woman for a second, before a smile marches across her face, "and I guess another one, too. So I don't got too much time anymore. 'F I teach this to you, would y'agree to babysit some?"

Yi arches her brows up as she's looked at, with the image that she might have perked her ears forward were she in lupus. The smile from Olga gets echoed onto her own features widely, and she looks over to Holly for the Wendigo's answer. "Cubsitting for Gnawers is not easy," she warns in more of a testingly teasing manner than actual caution.

Holly shrugs easily enough and nods. "Of course. I'd be happy to." Yi's cautionary comment makes her grow silent a moment, thoughtful, but eventually she re-iterates, "I can do it."

Olga returns Holly's nod, her own sharp and almost military, still amusement etched at the corners of her face. "Benny'll appreciate that, 'm sure," she answers, lightly. "Thanks Turtle. It'll be a li'l while before I can get started, I want us to lay the foundations with Christine at least 'fore some other tribe gets a hold of her and starts polluting her with God knows what, but soon, I'd be glad - nah, honoured, even."

Yi grins after Holly's reply, playing a bit with the bandanna in her hand. "If her God only knew what we are trying to teach her.. I have to wonder how we will be able to turn her from her previous beliefs and denial. For my cubhood at least, I had no choice. It was that, or spend the rest of my life in a closet about the size of that couch." She nods towards the couch the theurges sit on.

Holly offers a small, grateful smile. "Thanks. Really." Yi's mention of 'God' makes the theurge frown a little. she asks of the ragabash, "You mean this new cub? What, she's a bible thumper?"

Olga lifts up one cheek and looks down, as Yi points out the couch, and she gets a wry sort of look across her face. With an ugly twisting grimace Olga confirms Holly's question: "Yeah," she says, thinly, trying to hide her distaste. "A Baptist. I don't got anything against religion, most of the time - well, sometimes, but it's making my life pretty fuckin' difficult."

Yi tries to disguise her own aversion, but watches the two on the couch. "Well, it is not so much her faith that disturbs me. It is her ... very strong belief that there can be nothing else but. There is nothing wrong with believing in something. But when you use it to place a blindfold over your eyes, then it becomes deadly."

Holly mutters under her breath, but certainly loud enough for Olga to hear it, "Baptist. Oi. Maybe I should take back my offer then." It's clearly a joke, however. At Yi's words, she nods emphatically. "Believe me, I know. Believe me."

Olga's answer is strangely bitter, strangely sullen, though she looks away from both of them, off at the shadows which the fast-fading sun throws against the walls, and it's not directed at either. "Thank God we don't believe in anything that strong, eh?" she tosses back, though still without looking. "If we can convert 'er, though, she'll be devout. She'd make a helluva Theurge."

Yi wets her lips with a sip of water. "Or any kind of Garou really," she notes in thought. The ragabash then sets about to retie her bandanna on her head. "If there is one way to get her to believe our side, though, maybe bringing her to the Umbra will be the best.

Holly grows much quieter at the other theurge's 'rebuke'--such as it was. she remains silent for a good while, only adding afterward a barely whispered comment. "Certainly had a profound effect on me."

Olga's grin isn't terribly happy, but it's there at least, when she answers Yi swiftly, "I just got my fingers crossed against Philodox, talk about fire and brimstone, eh?" Even as she's saying it though, she's glancing over at Holly, watching her out of the corners of her eyes, close and curious. "Me too," she finally answers the girl, before letting her eyes droop.

Yi glances away to a random spot on the walls, before giving the theurges a brighter smile. "Maybe she will be a Galliard, seeing the way she can pull out such quotes with ease from her mind." The ragabash shrugs exaggeratedly. "Maybe she will learn to love her gift. Our gift of changing." Making like she is unconcerned about that now, Yi leans back upon the throw pillow. "And speaking of the auspices- wasn't Jacinta saying the Guardians had been looking for a galliard and philodox?"

Holly nods in answer to Yi. "Both would be good, for our pack, yes. I'm hoping that the new Uktena," and her she gestures at Olga, "The one that is supposed to find Pigeonfeeder about chiminage, will fit well with our pack. But it's early to tell yet."

Olga glances at Holly and gives a little twitch just enough to let the girl see some recognition for her own nod, but her mood's still slightly soured. "Oh yeah, and speaking of, what's that Basil's auspice, Yi?" she asks her with an easy concern. "I swear I'll scream if he's not a Galliard."

Yi looks over and up to the Gnawer theurge. Then, instead of answering right away, she slowly stands up from the pillow on the floor, stretching out her legs and arms. "Mm, then Holly and I best put our hands over our ears, because Basil is not a galliard. He is ... an ahroun." Though she says that, the ragabash doesn't cover her ears.

Holly looks amused, though tired. She, too then, gets to her feet. "I think I'm going to get a shower, wash some clothes, and then get a nap before going on patrol later." Pausing at the stairs, she adds, to both Gnawers but mostly looking at Olga, "I'm glad this new cub has you out here for now. Good to see you again."

Olga elects not to scream at all, much to the benefit of all present eardrums, she just rubs hard at her forehead. "A'right," she answers her tribemate tiredly, reaching over to flick another electric light on just as the sun completely dies, "a'right." She glances up as Holly goes to leave, offering her a smile small and soft, though still touched by a lingering bitterness which hollows it out and makes the yellow of her teeth all the darker. "Yeah, it's good to be out here," she answers the girl's goodbye. "You come here lots, now, y'hear? And I'll drag the cubs out to the woods soon as you're ready, and we'll track you down."

Yi rubs at her neck just under the chokechain, and then stretches one more time before she nods to Holly. "Good night then, Holly." To Olga she makes a short note, "I'll be out in the woods nearby, to .. catch some dinner. No sense in always stealing food from the cubs when I should work on my own forms." The ragabash heads to the front door and pokes it open. "I will try to return quickly, in case Christine wakes," the ragabash also adds.

Olga waves a vague calloused hand in Yi's direction, sending another little smile, not so much false or forced as simply weighed down: "No rush," she says to her, easily. "And don't catch anything for me, eh? Not that I wouldn't appreciate it or nothin', just not quite in the mood for raw today, and I don' mind so much stealing food from cubs." This last at least is sharp and quick enough to be a joke, but the first certainly isn't, there's a strange note of distaste as she begs off the meat. Then she's left in the living room, tucked in against the corner of the couch, alone again and sitting beneath the electric glare of a single bulb, contemplating going back to sleep.

[And after Yi catches some fast food for dinner.]

"Yes," says Christine, in a tone that suggests she would have agreed had Olga commented on the proliferation of pink fairies in the area. She doesn't look behind her at all.

Olga continues against the cold wind, it slips and slides, scratching past her and whistling by. She's quiet throughout the whole journey, letting her calloused feet combat the tangled fields without the luxury of shoes. Her arms are wrapped around her chest and she looks back at Christine occasionally, her face not quite as cold as the night, it's forced to squint because of the darkness and there's a worry touching it. The only thing she says is voiced once she's reached the barn doors and flung one open, it creaks and rattles in the wind. "Christ," she says, "I wish Joey were here."

That gives Christine a little pause, if not a little expression. She shifts her burden in her arms, and moves headlong into the barn.

Olga leaves the door open, the barn being too big and too full of holes to keep in any heat anyway. "Before we get into anything," the woman begins, as she stretches her way out into the barn like a liquid spilling out over the ground, entering but not seeming to move, "you got any questions you want to ask?" The tone of her voice is hollow and cold, already defeated, assuming she won't get any.

Though Joey isn't around, a figure appears from the edge of the wood to the west, closer to the fields. That same figure whistles lightly, the sound almost lost in the slight wind blowing in from the north. As the figure comes closer, it proves not to be any ghostly apparition, but Yi. Returned from her western wood hunt, she looks rather cleaned up for someone who could have been catching Bugs. Spotting the two headed towards the barn, the Gnawer ragabash approaches with a hand lifting to wave.

Big Red Barn(#3420RA)
The barn is built in the old style, a vast three level structure that is greater in height than a mere three stories, actually closer to five. Great wooden posts support the weight of the upper levels and roof, sunk into the hard-packed dirt floor of the first level like a sparse forest of regularly spaced, naked trees. The stalls and flagstones which once were here have been torn out to leave a rather open area where even crinos Garou may roam freely without fear of running into anything but the supports or the walls or the ladder at the back which allows access to the other two levels.
The first two levels are relatively open to each other, the second being only little wider than a catwalk going around all the walls but the front one, which has massive, twenty foot tall doors set into it. The third level is a true second floor except for a place cut out that allowed hay to be tossed down to the ground floor when the farm was actually worked. Now, it is a hayloft where Garou can sleep outside of the house.
(Non-Garou, please "+view curse")
Contents:
Christine
Olga(#4061PJceq)
Obvious exits:
BarnYard  

Christine looks over her shoulder at Olga and sets the rolled sleeping bag upright at her feet for a moment. There's a book, and a magazine or two peeking out from the center of the coiled cloth. "Nope." She still hasn't seen Yi.

The darkness, even though the moon above isn't the Ragabash's own, keeps her concealed, and Olga slinks further into the darkness. "A'right then," the woman answers the girl, frustration in her voice though she does her best to keep it down. She takes a place near one of the great columns that support the hayloft, finding her way mostly by memory. "I guess the first thing we'll start with is who we are, what we are."

Yi steals through the night, apparently unseen from her wave and whistling. Waiting until she's closer to the bawn, the ragabash knocks her knuckles against the wood a few times, before creaking the doors open and standing in the doorway. "Olga?" A pause. "Christine?"

Christine blinks. Her round, white face jerks towards the barn door like a balloon suddenly pulled on its string. She picks the sleeping bag back up and hugs it close, with all the irrational protectiveness of a dog with her dinner bowl.

Olga looks back towards the door, though the gesture does her little good and she stands there squint-eyed and hunched. "Hi Yi," she calls back, recognizing the woman's voice. "I said Chris could sleep in the barn, so we're gonna do tonight's teaching out here. Wanna join us?" Slowly, with the stiffness of an old lady, she slides down the length of the support until she's seated on the dirt, knees up near her chin and arms wrapped around, to help fight off the cold.

Yi steps inside and nudges the barn door shut again. "Sure," she agrees, night-vision adjusted already. "I must admit, Christine, you didn't strike me as one who would enjoy sleeping out here." There's a slight suspicion to the ragabash's tone, masked by casual ease and content that contrasts to Olga's stiffness in the cold.

Yi's suspicion will find no more satisfaction than Olga's; Christine gives Yi only a plastic stare for her trouble. That, and an immediately suspicious look of her own when Yi closes the barn door. "Teaching what?"

"Who you are," Olga answers simply. "What you are. Like I said." She lets a little pause rest there, enough for the others to get ready, for them to settle in. "You are Garou, we all are. Garou are werewolves, we're the warriors of Gaia. Gaia is the earth, and everything. You can call her a him and call him God if you like, I don't care, but know that we have our own name for her. She is older than and gave birth to the Triat, but the Triat, their imbalance, is killing her, and we have to save her. That's our job. We're fighting a war against the forces of corruption and death. We're Garou."

Yi steps in a pace or so closer, dark eyes shadowed. At first she doesn't say much, listening to Olga tell of the Triat, of Gaia, of Garou. "You have not shifted since the first change, have you?" she asks the cub.

If it's progress that Olga can now talk of religion without eliciting furious protestations from her student...well, then Christine is making progress. She listens to Olga, entirely nonplussed, and takes a step back when Yi takes a step forward. "No."

Olga begins tapping her pockets, but these aren't her clothes and the grimace which stretches across her face like a purple scar shows she doesn't find what she wants. "So you don't believe me, eh?" she asks Christine conversationally, though before the girl gets a chance to answer she's already turning her head to her tribesmate, to ask, in a strained, pleading voice, "You got any smokes, Yi?"

Yi glances over to the elder at the query, and reflexively seems to reach down into her pockets. However, the ragabash too comes up empty. "Sorry Olga. I'm afraid I didn't dedicate those with this clothing set." The ragabash looks apologetic to her elder, but then back to the cub. "Then have you decided you're still dreaming a very long dream?"

"No," says Christine again, not in confirmation of Olga's question, but in rejection of it. "I don't agree."

Olga seems more deeply saddened by Yi's negative than Christine's: she responds to it with a hollow and dejected "Oh," as if Yi had just told her that she'd run over her dog. She turns back to Christine then, though, and watches her for a little while, what she can see at least of the lighter blotch against the black barn, before asking honestly, "How come?"

Yi doesn't pipe in with her own question. She'd rather listen to the cub's answer in this one case.

Christine takes a breath, and begins to talk, her speech sounding not a little rehearsed. "I think it's like me being Korean. North. It doesn't matter where I was born, or what my birth parents were. I don't speak that language, and I didn't grow up there, and I would never choose to be a North Korean citizen, because North Korean is a really awful thing to be right now. And that's what I think of this."

Olga gives her head a quick heavy shake, and her answer's equally heavy: "This isn't about nationality, Chris," she says quickly. "This's about _species_. Hell, no, this's about something different, something bigger and deeper than that, even. What we are can be a really awful thing to be, but it's what we are all the same. You're still Korean, it's written in the seams of your face. And you're still Garou, and that's sloshing around in your belly and coiled around your heart. No amount of wanting'll change it."

Yi rolls a shoulder, watching and listening. "If it makes any different, I'm from Hong Kong. Ruled now by the mainland's influences, despite the pretty government set up. But, I'm still a Garou. As Olga says. There is no nationality to this."

Christine says, "Maybe I can't be normal. But I /won't/ be this. You want me to be something, but this is just wasting your time." She cocks her eyes towards Yi, and nods in polite acknowledgement.

"Then I'll waste my whole fuckin' life away," Olga answers sharply, rises sharply, hands snaking out towards the beam behind her to keep her steady, eyes focused and fierce down on the girl who sits there. "Because the other options aren't pretty."

"What will you be then?" Yi asks, stepping off to the side with her hands crooking behind her head, cradling it. "You certainly couldn't be a normal girl, since you know you changed into something that wasn't a human. And you certainly couldn't be going insane, because that would mean you think you are not crazy now. So, what is the other option? That this is all just a dream?"

"Once in fifteen years," Christine answers Yi, her composure sorely strained. "What do you mean?" she asks of Yi. There's no indication that she's distinguished any rank between them; she answers both with what deference she has to spare, and what hostility she can't quite keep pent.

Olga turns away from her and smacks the post with the palm of her hand, a cathartic release which resounds against the shell of the barn. She keeps moving away for a couple feet but then she turns back, and then again, pacing about, letting Yi take the questioning up herself, either not wanting to gang up on the girl again, or feeling herself too frustrated to continue.

Yi paces back and forth, winding her path in a semi circle around the area residing between the cub and the barn doors. "I mean," she explains without a flinch at the sound echoing in the barn of Olga's palm slap, "If you can explain why you can change to me," she dares, "then tonight I will leave you be."

Christine says, "You want me to say something about your battle, or your tri--your trinity." It's as much a question as anything else. She hugs the sleeping bag tight. "Can I keep the door open, please?"

"More of a p-" Olga begins to offer a correction, though she quickly rethinks it and lets it slide. A wave of her stiff hand shows no objection to the request, though she quickly follows it up with an "I don' care," directed more at Yi than at the girl, in case the gesture is lost to the darkness.

Yi still paces, her steps light and easy compared to the heavy tension of the theurge further back in the barn. "No, I don't want you to say anything about /my/ battles, or the Triat." The ragabash pauses, turns, and looks to Christine's direction. "I want you to tell me why you can change into a werewolf. And if you cannot, then how come you could do it earlier." Her gaze towards Olga gets lost in the dark. "Prove to me you are not a werewolf. Prove to me you cannot change. If you can do that, then, well we can let you go."

Christine is already shaking her head. "But that's not what I said," she says softly. "You keep talking about it like it's something I can control, and that sounds right, because the only time it happened was when I was panicking, and I've never panicked like that before, and..." She tries her hand at a joke, "I don't think the chances of me being kidnapped twice in one life are very good."

Olga remains silent and skulking, back and hidden, not participating in the argument between the two. After a couple of seconds of this she moves towards the front of the barn, scraping the soles of her feet along the dirt, and she knocks open one of the doors, as Christine asked.

Yi chuckles. It's a quiet one, meant to humor the cub's joke. "But you say it's happened anyway. So you do not deny it happened. If it's panic you need though..." the ragabash notes, her voice somehow growing deep as she approaches. And the cub can see her shifting, growing in height and in muscle mass, "That can be provided."

"Olga already did that," Christine begins to protest as Yi changes, desperate to argue away the unwelcome shift. "And nothing happened to me." She looks not so much panicked as deeply queasy. She tries to look away from Yi, and finds herself unable to for very long.

From the front of the barm, in a loud, long, and slightly bemused, slightly patronizing, slightly offended voice, Olga calls out, "Oh, dearie, if I'd wanted to scare you I coulda done better than that." There's a silence after she's said it though: she looks out through the barn door, black against the deep grey inside, before she calls again, this time her voice thinner and more casual, "Might not work until the moon gets a little bigger, Yi."

"Not yet anyway," Yi in her deepened voice states. Eyes dark as rocks, the ragabash approaches the cub with all the seeming intent of providing that requested 'panic' from before. "So then, Cub. Explain this?" Yi indicates her distorted, significantly more prehistoric looking features made moreso by the fact that her hair is extremely short.

There may be little enough light in the place, but the altered timbre of Yi's voice fills in all the missing details. Christine scrambles backwards rapidly until her back hits something in the dim light, a wooden beam. She never lets go of the sleeping bag. "You should all be extinct," she says, very quietly.

That draws a snort ripping out of Olga's nose, not devoid of humour, though amusement certainly isn't the main ingredient. She doesn't say anything or move any further in, she just stands by the door, rubbing her arms to keep out the cold.

Yi continues her ominous forward stepping, easily following the sound of the sleeping bag where her eyes lack. "Some would say it is the humans that deserve that fate," she replies evenly, and has come within an arm's reach of the girl. She leans forward, inhuman eyes catching in the very dim light. "But we're still not gone. And so we exist. We live. And we are what we are." Christine has a free shot of the ragabash's grotesque features. "And you are what we are. You cannot claim otherwise."

Christine closes her eyes against the alien creature. "Olga?" she says, a one-word plea for intervention.

Whether it's her name that does it, or whether it had been building all along, or whether this was the plan all along, hatched between the two Gnawers, is impossible to tell without seeing her face, for the voice just says, thick and itself slightly unnerved, "That's enough, Yi." She doesn't move from her spot though, she remains by the door: it's only the words that go in, try to put themselves between one Garou and another.

And maybe, just maybe, Christine is able to smell the slight remnants of blood way back in the ragabash's throat, brought up by simple breathing. With Christine's eyes closed and shutting out the world, with Olga's words gruffly calling her off, Yi backs up. She doesn't quite shift back yet, wetting her lips with a thickened tongue. "Some time, Christine, you will find that just shutting your eyes... will do nothing but blind you." The ragabash turns, the chokechain around her neck jangling slightly with the movement. Sweeping up in her shifting, the sound of the ragabash's footsteps changes gradually, turned into the quiet padding of paws and tinkle of chain as the ragabash makes her way towards the door in lupus.

Christine's eyes open on a departing wolf. They recognise Yi instantly in that dim form as well, and fix her with a strobing stare and unadulterated loathing, fierce enough to burn itself out in seconds. That's followed by a wash of relief, that never quite translates itself into gratitude. She shoves the magazines and book down into the sleeping bag and starts to lug it towards the back, one hand outstretched against things unseen. "Thanks," she says, her voice cardboard-dry.

Olga steps aside so Yi can pass through, if that's what she wants to do. She watches the wolf with a distanced stare as she comes near, and then, regardless of whether or not she leaves, she moves in towards the girl, her face set hard, purposeful, but devoid of anger, devoid of anything really except a dull and lazy kind of determination. She doesn't get close, she gets a dozen feet or so off, and then she stops, legs planted firmly on the ground, arms still wrapped around her. "I'll make you a deal," she proposes to Christine in the darkness of the barn. "You make an honest attempt to understand and consider what we're saying, you prove to me you won't be a danger to us or, more importantly, your human family and those others around you, and you get through your Rite of Passage, as every Garou's got to, and you'll be free to go back to them, back to the human world. You're free to try and fit back in there. We won't stop you, if you can show me that. But we can't just let you go." She fixes Christine with a heavy questioning gaze, wary and chin-raised, turned off to the side, and very still, like porcelain.

Three-Blades pads up to the halfway point, part of her lit by the dim night's starlight, the other half shadowed in the barn. Her ears tick forward, as she looks back at the two in the darkness of the barn's depths. The lupus formed no-moon doesn't 'say' anything, though somehow indicates her understanding of every word said regardless. She then slips around the door and out of view, the chain around her neck clinking against itself.

Christine doesn't stop what she's doing--moving from beam to beam, and keeping an eye out for the ladder. She almost runs into it before she sees it, and she slides her arm through its elastic tie and prepares to lug it up the length. But she stops for a while before setting foot to rung, and leans into the ladder. "I wouldn't mean it. I wouldn't hurt them."

Olga doesn't move any closer, only her eyes follow the girl as she struggles to find her way away in the dark, and her voice, which grows louder though not stronger, softly answering her with a simple, sympathetic "You wouldn't mean to."

Three-Blades evidently listens for a little while longer out of sight. And then, the Gnawer ragabash is heard travelling off, before the sound of her movement disappears altogether.

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