Maim you like a hurricane

[Wendy Berber]

*She's comfortable. And thats terrifying. The house looks better than ever, for all the weaver's fiery machinations. With the addition of Dietrich paying board, Wendy finally has enough to properly run the house. And run it she has been. To the scrawny kin used to a home bustling with more than a dozen people, running a house of four is done easily. A note as to when she'll be doing laundry, going for groceries, cleaning the bathrooms, etc is tacked to a bulletin board in the kitchen, with a polite request that people tell her if they need anything in particular, or have any request food wise. She'skeeping a schedule, quietly taking control of things, supper always at 6, breakfast always at 8, leftovers always in the fridge. And so today finds her cleaning up scrambled eggs and hash browns, no great cook, our Wendy Berber, but let it never be said she didn't feed the pack. The scraping of a metal fork on a stainless steel pan announces her presence in the kitchen.*

[Boy]

Comfortable and scary. That could be said about most things pertaining to this house. Boy had been in quite a mood ever since he'd come back. When he wasn't out patrolling or working with Marcus he was at home engaging in simple pleasures; crafting something or the other on his work bench, working out with Dietrich in the basement, hanging out with Marrick, or just tucked in under Wendy's bed, asleep during the day. He was glad to be home, obviously, and was taking full advantage of actually having a home. On this particular morning he hadn't hung around in the kitchen after breakfast. Wendy got a peck on the cheek before he left his plate in the sink, and Boy immediately bound up the stairs as if he didn't have a painfully full stomach. She could hear him, as usual, unlocking the door upstairs and, later on, murmuring in a soft voice reserved for talking to children. That was nearly an hour ago. Now his voice has stopped. The sound of the lock on the door turning was followed by him bounding down the steps. There was an odd pause. The sound of something rattling in the living room, and then, oddly, music was coming from the portable stereo that Boy had never once touched. All the peacock people left the plumes in a pile They look good to a fault And the Gulf water's warm like a bathtub Full of lavender and epsom salt Marrick and Wendy had brought it in one evening, the spoils of a garage sale. It had therefore been considered Marrick's property, and Boy steered clear. But now there was music. Now there was Boy, not creeping into the kitchen, but certainly not marching or stomping either. Now there was Boy placing his hands on either side of Wendy's shoulders, as if to announce his presence. One hand slid in a circle over the bones of her shoulders, rubbing her back. See a bleach blond boy put his long board down Help his girl get her sunscreen on I thought about you in your little house Think you're lonely but I could be wrong and...

[Wendy Berber]

*Music bubbles to life from the living room, and Wendy smiles to herself. Marrick must be up. The tall kin is standing at the sink, faucet trickling over a pan as she scrapes at it. So absorbed in her task that her breath hitches at someone's hands on her. Boy's hands, rubbing her back. Her cheeks pink slightly, warming as she smiles over her shoulder, appreciative of the unexpected attention.* Hey. Hm. Thank you. *Her bony shoulders are knit with tension from too much work and too little sleep, but one would be hard pressed to find concern for such in her face. Dark circles are finally beginning to fade from the flesh hidden beneath her glasses, and her cheeks are beginning to fill out, less gaunt as she manages to string meals together on a regular basis. Her glasses remain slightly crooked and patched the the nth degree, but blue eyes are sharp. Canny. If hidden by shaggy black hair in dire need of a trim. Her expression is one of grateful pleasure, just this side of shy. The water is turned off and she lets the pan fall in the sink. It'd be there later. Wendy's eyes pass over Boy as they have alot of late. Searching for the source of this newfound quiet he seemed to have about him. Uktena. How could one ever really tell. * How's everyone upstairs? *Its unspoken, but its clear she doesn't mean Dietrich and Marrick. Wendy wiping wet hands on her tank top. Another improvement. She no longer hides herself in oversized sweaters when in private. Scars forgotten. Or perhaps stubbornly ignored.*

[Boy]

"Good. Better now. Gabriella was worried. Travis said she was a bit of a handful while I was gone, but she's been really good since I've been back. She's even started reading without me or Travis, can you believe that? She's so smart. They're both doing good now. Everything's better now." I wanna be your bootlegger Wanna mix you up something strange Braid your hair like a sister Maim you like a hurricane The music continued in the other room, reaching out to the kitchen and, one would assume, nearly every other room in the house. Boy moved away as Wendy turned, but he did it in such a way that his hands were still on her, still closely familiar, up to the last moment that she was in reach. Now he sat himself on the kitchen counter, hooking his legs at ankles and swinging his dirty, bare feet. He looked comfortable, That's probably what was most scary about him now, because ever so often there was still a glimpse of the dog that sat and stared, and wagged its tail slowly in something most people mistake for comfort and friendliness. In reality that dog was just waiting for an errant limb to come somewhere close to his viscious, snapping jaws. This time that glimpse flashed through Boys eyes glancing over Wendy, or more her scars, and a moment of uncertainty in the subconscious glimpses in his face, despite the ever present look of safety and comfort. "You look nice. I like this. You've been sleeping more. Not working as hard. I like that too."

[Wendy Berber]

I like it too. *Wendy nods, stifles a yawn with her hand. She pads barefoot to the fridge to nab a handful of blueberries. She comes to lean against the counter beside him, offering her spoils in an open palm. She glances up in time to catch the flash of feral intensity in Boy's eyes, and her smile twitches nervous. Apologetic. The look a reminder to not get too comfortable, pleasant as things may be. This the same 7 foot furred monstrosity whose paws were larger then her head. Her brows pinch, and she looks to the ground a moment..* Blueberry?

[Boy]

He takes one. No, two. One of them gets popped into his mouth immediately with a smile. "Thanks. So, whats your plan for today?"

[Wendy Berber]

Um.. Dishes now. And laundry a little later. *She slips two blueberries in her mouth and chews, contemplating. A shrug of narrow shoulders once she's made short work of her mouthful.* James is on Vacation for a week, and I don't work at Triarii tonight until late. Its almost like a day off. *A shy grin, as she looks to Boy from under a shag of hair. Another blueberry offered.* What about you?

[Boy]

He accepts the other and is about to pop two blueberries into his mouth when he stops and smiles at her, coupling it with a puzzled look. "Are you sure you want to know that?"

[Wendy Berber]

Oh? uh... I don't know... Do I? *She gives him an equally puzzled look in return, a few seconds of nervous smile flashed his way before she's busy chewing the last of the blueberries, expression quizzical.*

[Boy]

"When I went...when I was away, I met someone. An ancestor. You remember the ghost? The one I told you about before I left? I told this ancestor about him and, well, he taught me some things. So I'm gonna try to help the ghosts now. Maybe not today, but...I'm going to hunt whatever's hunting them. And I'm starting by asking around. The wind rushes and whistles when this thing is around, so I'll start by asking the wind, if I can find it. If it even wants to talk to me." He pops the blueberries into his mouth having said this, savoring the taste, and monitoring Wendy for how she reacted to this matter-of-fact type of information.

[Wendy Berber]

Oh. um.. OK. *Wendy furrows her brow slightly, face tightening a moment in worry. The thin girl nods, nibbling her lip a moment, troubling it as this new turn of events apparently troubles her. Its a moment before she turns her face to the philodox and enquires softly.* Want me to look up the windiest place in the city? ... I can do it outside.

[Boy]

His eyebrows rise, relieved but only slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, that's a great idea. That should make things a lot easier."

[Wendy Berber]

Did you want me to do that right now?

[Boy]

"No. I'll let you know when. You want some help with the dishes?"

[Wendy Berber]

I just have this pan.. I think I might have to let it soak. Heh. I kinda.. burnt some eggs on it, a little. *A look of sheepish apology. No great cook was Wendy Berber. Not yet anyhow. She tucks her hair behind her ears and murmers.* Soo.. Dietrich is staying with us now. Thats ok, right? *She bumps into him where he sits atop the counter, jostling his knee, her eyes downcast. A smile threatens to curl her lips. Was she.. teasing him?*

[Boy]

"Yeah.." He says absently, as if simply agreeing with her observation. When she bumps him, his back straightens slowly. "What? Why wouldn't it be? Did he say something?"

[Wendy Berber]

No. No, not at all. *She purses her lips a little. hrm. Her joke went off the mark. She turns and rises a bit of blueberry juice off her hand and sighs.* I missed you. I think maybe.. I should do our laundry?

[Boy]

"You missed me?" That didn't get missed. That was in fact met with a smile. A bright smile that took over most of his face and showed too much of his teeth. He was missed. Jeremy, son of a runaway mother and never-was father, grandson of 'Feed him scraps' and 'Beat him with the buckle'. Wild Boy, brother of a dead child and adopted son of a dead man, brother of no one save the missing, the hurt, the abused and scarred. Boy, Brother of the Lost. Respected by his pack. Missed by his mate. He seemed to leap off the counter with barely any effort, and was throwing his arms around her, that mad smile still on his face as he pulled her in and wrapped her in a hug. "You missed me." He said. He'd never sounded so satisfied.

[Wendy Berber]

*It'd been snuck in there shyly. Timid, obscured by the mundanity of domestic duties, but he'd caught it none the less. Wendy Berber is wrapped up, and so she wraps in turn, nodding. Smiling. A deep breath as she admits.* Course I missed you. I missed you a lot. I started to worry. *A squeeze of spindly arms. She nuzzles him half a blink and you'll miss it second, smiling to herself as she's hugged. Counting her blessings.*

[Boy]

"Mmmmm." It was a sound born half in contentment and half out of doting care. "You missed me." He lingered in that hug, happy to have her bony frame in his arms. Even when he pulled away there was that feeling of hesitance, as if he didn't want this to end. He sniffs, and wipes at his eyes quickly. There were no tears, but the fact that he felt the need to ensure there weren't said something about how he was feeling. "Alright. I'll leave you to laundry. I need to go looking for some parts, so I'll be back later, okay?"

[Wendy Berber]

Ok. *Spindly fingers rest on Boy's shoulders a moment longer than they need to, as his kin nods. Expression fond. More than fond, affection unspoken as she takes a breath and nods again.* Ok. *The tall girl pushes up her spectacles and gives a shy smile, brushing past him out of the kitchen. A glance back over her shoulder, before she's disappearing down the steps to the laundry room. She'd see him later. But for now.. well.. he had no clean socks.*