Apologies, Olga

Currently the moon is in the waning Half Moon phase (55% full).
It is currently 15:08 Pacific Time on Fri Aug 26 2005.

Odeon - Theatre(#3973RA)
The floor sticks to one's shoes like flypaper, and the seats all sag limply under even the slightest pressure. It's dark and dank with the evaporation of untold unknown liquids, and sounds echo menacingly off the soundproofed, honeycombed walls. The theatre is like a giant abandoned hive filled with row upon row of empty egg sacs; about a hundred of them, arranged in two columns, with three neat walkways, one through the middle and one on either side. High up and inset over the lobby doors is the projectionist's booth, a small alcove overlooking the theatre; opposite it is the screen, framed by ratty curtains that no longer close, and taking up most of the wall. It can no longer serve it's purpose, though: the screen is no longer blank, scrawled across it, from top to bottom, is a disconcerting mess of fluorescent grafitti which glows out bright oranges and greens even in the dark theatre. Like massive glowing worms the lines coil in and out of tags and outlines of images, in a roiling, reeling, psychedelic nightmare. The hundred empty seats all point towards it, mute and dusty.
Contents:
Olga(#4061PJceq)
Squeaks
Obvious exits:
LObby  Alley  

It's a warm, windy day, a dry hard breeze winds through the city, making newspapers roll like tumbleweed. Inside the Odeon it's hot and stuffy, the dryness of the outside weather barely intruding on its dank fetid stench. The lobby is dark, but thin fingers of light creep in out of the theatre door. Olga's behind it, Glabro and gruff, sitting down with Squeaks underneath the wide written-on screen, lit by the light of the banged up lantern.

The metis picks Yi out through the heavy odors of the Odeon, giving the ragabash a quick bark of recognition. "Good afternoon Squeaks," calls the fostern from the lobby as she proceeds towards the theater. From the door, she sees the Gnawer elder afterwards and clears her throat, adding an "And good afternoon Olga," to her greeting. She proceeds down the aisle towards the pair.

Olga doesn't look up at Yi when she enters the theatre, instead she eyes Squeaks, and chides her automatically, mildly but made gruff and unforgiving by a thick gravelly Glabro voice, ~Squeaks, don't talk to people outside. Wait for them to come in. Be good.~ The lantern is nearby the two, and by its light they're reading (or really, rather, just looking at the pictures of) a tattered, mould-infested old children's book: THINGS AROUND THE CITY is its title, and the page they're looking at is infested with airplanes. Olga doesn't continue with it, though, for reasons not the least of which is the fact that Squeaks pulls away from her and walks four-legged over to Yi, whining out, ~Hi Three. Food?~

Yi smiles down at the not-quite mini-crinos, her hand reaching behind and shuffling out a brown paper bag that's more wrinkled than an old man's mug and steams of lukewarm hotdogs. The newmoon shifts up and keeps the dogs out of reach, stopping at Glabro. ~Get on back. Let's eat with Fat-Ripper.~ The ragabash leads the metis cub back towards the lantern, and only when they've rejoined does she relent and give the package over. It doesn't survive the following few seconds. She nods again to the theurge, bending down to sit. A stray gaze is sent towards the book, though it lasts quite awhile longer than usual.

Olga carefully folds it closed; still she doesn't look up, but she does greet the other woman, straightforwardly, even casually, "Hey, Yi." Even in this form she manages to keep most of the tone out of it, she manages to keep it blank and conversational, so that she can fill in whatever she likes. She also doesn't look at Squeaks as the girl attacks the paper bag, sending spittle-soaked scraps of brown paper flying around her like confetti. She doesn't bother trying to get the mule to pay attention while she's occupied; only after she's finished does she grumblingly specify ~What do you say?~ and garner a ~Thank you,~ directed at Yi, half honest, and half forced.

Yi nods in acceptance of the thanks, sending a curious last glance after the book before looking back to the theurge. "Olga, about what I said at moot..." the ragabash starts to say, fading for a moment, expression searching of the theurge's. "I meant it, for the best."

Olga obviously was anticipating this topic because she speaks right on Yi's heels, sharply and quickly, in a tone of voice sufficient to snap Squeaks' head to attention to see if she's done something wrong, and is going to be punished. "You shoulda told me," the Theurge spits angrily back. "You shoulda told me, damn it, you got a problem with my pack, you tell me, you don't just go heaping shit on my Alpha without fucking _talking_ to me about it. That's just consideration, Yi, that's just - damn it, that's just what people do for each other." She still doesn't look up, and Squeaks has gone back to paying only peripheral attention to the conversation of the two adults. She reaches out a long clawed arm and snatches the book out of Olga's lap.

Yi squeezes her eyes partly closed, lips drawing tight. "This wasn't about your pack. It wasn't just my problem. And not just yours either. It was the sept's problem, becoming too accepting of the norm. You know we challenge to keep our leaders on their toes. Tell me, what would you have said if I spoke earlier? Would you not have agreed? Would you not have had the same reaction?"

"Maybe I would've," Olga answers, teeth clenched, finally looking at Yi, straight in the eye. "And maybe then I wouldn't have been fuckin' blind-sided at the Moot, made to look like an idiot, hurt. You weren't challenging, Yi. I never heard you claim the position - all I heard was you publicly ripping on my Alpha, and whether she deserved it or not all I'm saying is you should've fucking _told_ me." Squeaks has moved off away from the two, though she keeps very much in earshot as she hunches over her book, studying the pictures by the dim lamplight, pretending not to listen.

"I did not challenge, but someone did," Yi replies evenly, eyes leveling. "You weren't any more fool than the rest of us when I spoke up, when I gave voice to what many have been secretly whispering about." She has to forcibly blink, to cut off a staredown before it happens. Suddenly restless, the ragabash stands. "I admit it was stretching the limits. Shocking. Embarrassing. I am known for making trouble when it comes to elders. When I see something wrong, and wait until the most wrong of moments before saying something. And when I do, it is said loudly." Taking the moment to quell the tightness in her throat, she bites down on her finger. The mumblings of the metis fill in the silence from the ragabash's end. Then she closes her eyes and sighs. In another ticking of seconds, the ragabash whispers out, "I'm sorry Olga."

Olga's answer is again quick, again she seems ready with her reply and real though is not needed: "Damn it, Yi," she lets out, thick with frustration, strain in her voice. "This isn't about embarrassing me as your elder. It's not about-" and then she breaks off, her teeth clench down grindingly hard, so that her breath can only escape through hisses. "Forget about it," she says quickly, and then just as quickly she changes topics, leaving no more than a second's silence between them. The transition is jarring and awkward and makes it plain that she doesn't want to talk about it anymore. "There's a place nearby here that needs to be checked out," she says evenly, voice tense and thin. "I's hoping you could do it, and take Masao with you, show her the tricks of the trade and all, y'know."

Yi continues on her train of thought, derailing with the awkward transition, hitting the brakes too late. "Then tell me what it is Olga," she blurts out before the silence can fill in the air. When the new subject drops in like a boulder on the tracks, she blinks a couple times, recovering. "I.. ok," she replies with a slow nod. "She is... very smart. Learns quickly." Gradually, the ragabash shrinks down to her breed form, though the shape seems to be let go reluctantly. "Which side?"

Olga does not, she remains in her thick, large-toothed, hook-nosed Glabro form, though whether it's carelessness or intention that keeps her there is impossible to discern. "There's a corrupted ice elemental at the mexican place down the block a bit," she answers, fluidly, completely paving over all previous conversation. "You know the place? The one I been warning people off. We gotta check it out - the bird told me about it in the Umbra, and I been poking my nose about in the Realm, and couldn't find anything more than shitty food. I want you guys to take a look in their freezer, figure out what's up, where the corruption started and whether it's leaking from the Realm into the Umbra, or vice-versa. Sound a'right? Make sure the employees aren't turned, too. I doubt it, and it shouldn' be too dangerous."

Yi considers the elements carefully, gears inside turning with that invisible change of direction. "Always better to assume the worst and get the best," she murmurs, half-distracted. "I know about it, yes. I never thought about eating there before." Then she glances over, eyes finally returning to the theurge. "Before the half moon leaves us, hopefully, we will know." Another swallow down, and she adds, "If it is worse than expected...?"

Olga answers, flatly, "Y'mean, what if it _is_ dangerous? Well then get the hell out of there. Don't come back here though, last thing we want is somebody trailin' us back to the Odeon, and Squeaks. We gotta be careful, too, don't get furry unless you need to, it's too close to home and this's the last place we want rumours brewing." She continues watching Yi, frank and businesslike now, curious, expectant.

Nodding once again, Yi turns her gaze back upon the theurge. "I know of a few places to go in case of bad luck. Better to be prepared, as it would be terrible for Masao to be hurt badly before her Rite." As if the thought disturbed her, she hooks a finger under the chain about her neck and pulls uncomfortably. A glance goes to Squeaks, the fostern finding reassurance in the dim lamplight. "I did have something else to say - a message from Touch Deer about ... our cubs." She glances back to the theurge. "He wanted permission to train them, along with Tamara's teachings."

Now Olga actually takes a second, casting her eyes away and towards Squeaks as she pretends to peer through the pictures of the book. "Teach like how?" she asks, uncertainly, glancing back at Yi. "What?"

"To be an ahroun," Yi offers forward. "Basil at least, took to Touch Deer like fish to water. He made it clear to me anyway, he does not like what Tamara has to offer. But I told him, that is how things are - some things are not pleasant, but must be done." She glances away, feeling the weight of her own words, before turning back. "I imagine besides combat, the values of the Garou warrior auspice. Glory, yes, but Wisdom and Honor as well. And also... to allow them to train in fighting with other cubs."

Olga says straightly, almost dismissively, as if she doesn't like the explanation and is picking at it, "I always been fine with cubs play-fightin' with other cubs." The rest of the words take a longer moment's consideration, glum and hard-thinking. "I'll talk to him," she finally grumbles out. "See whether he should. I don't want Basil turnin' out like a certain other Urrah cub who spent too long in the woods with a Wendigo, if y'know who I mean."

Yi finally cracks the hairline thinnest of smirks, nodding this time with more fervor. "I do worry for Basil. He calls himself Speaks-Poison now, from Tommy's name for him. True, his words are stinging." That small smirk is wiped off quickly, replaced with concern. "Do you know, the other day he was having doubts of whether he chose the right tribe.

"Was he?" Olga asks tightly, angrily distressed. She schools her expression to neutrality, not without effort. "Boy never talks to me. Who's he thinking of? Walkers?"

Yi shakes her head, hand by her side tensing at the thought. "I'd sooner cull him," she states flatly. "But I believe he might have been feeling alone. Left behind. As though he had no friends in his chosen tribe. He believes his Rite has been totally canceled." The ragabash rubs at the thin scar over her neck, thinking aloud. "I told him he is sooner stuck with us, and will go on his passage rite some time, but not until we believe him to be ready. At least, I will not leave him."

Olga's eyes light up again, burning little coals, when Yi says that word, and she stares at her in hard disbelief. "I'm not cullin' him," she says, strictly, fiercely. "He's not that bad. He's not more harm than good. He deserves to live. Not giving him up, either - not to those spider fuckers, at least. I'll go talk to him," she adds, voice getting less angry and more sullen. "See what's to be done."

Yi sighs once more, flopping down in the general area of the theurge. "A pretty sad picture we make, sitting here like this worrying ourselves grey with our cubs." The ragabash sets elbow to knee, chin to the flat of her palm, gazing lightly towards the sullen elder. "Jay and Nevada would be laughing their tails off at me. Max, too." The hand transfers, scraping fingers through her hair. "He is smart, yes. And he does have an instinct to survive at whatever cost. He... just thinks /too/ much of himself, maybe." Her fingers curl slightly, brow furrowing as she looks at them. "Too worried about his looks, and maybe not understanding what it is like to be at the very bottom."

Olga answers dully, "Glad to know at least somebody'd be enjoying this." She pulls herself roughly up to her feet, the movement stiff and uncertain, having sat too long. She looks down at Squeaks as rises, eyes lingering there long, before glancing back at Yi. ~G'bye, kid,~ she says to her slowly, drawlingly, though it garners no response from the mule who keeps looking at her book and pretending not to be aware of what's going on around her. Finally she shrivels back up into her birth form, and she looks at Yi again but only briefly, to say "I'm gonna go get started on him."

Yi looks up as the elder stands, eyes shining despite the dim light. "I wish you luck, Olga." She exhales slowly, looking back over towards Squeaks for a bit, reluctant to return her gaze back towards the theurge.

Olga answers with a dry "Thanks," and a slightly warmer "G'bye, Yi." She moves up the centre aisle and pushes open the centre doors, and stops only to snatch up her bag on the way outside.

Back | Next | 2005 Logs | Main