[Boy] It was hard to imagine that just a week ago this living room was in ruins. Boy said he would fix it, and for the most part he did. The walls were repaired, complete with a layer of wallpapering, and most of the bookshelves had been mended, even if the books that were once on them weren't. There was even the chipped and cracked dry wall surrounding a chipped and cracked mural of a Black Unicorn.
And still there was the sound of sanding, blowing, the quiet breathing of a Boy who worked with his hands.
[Callie] *Yesterday was busy. Clearing out the basement, helping Marrick and Boy dispose of the evidence. By the time they were done it was well into the night. Today has mostly been spent sponging the mess from her jeans and top and hanging around in her room while they dry. Finally, wearing only a t-shirt baggy and stretched from long years of wear, and faded into an obsurity of greys, she emerges and heads down to the kitchen*
[Boy] Boy only saw the blur of Gray from his spot in the living room. He hadn't been sitting on the couch (which was still broken) but on a mat on the floor in the middle of the living room, sanding away at...something...in his hands. For a minute he cranes his neck to see who it was coming down the stairs. A minute too late as all he sees is the tail of a gray shirt and the heel of a foot.
A short while later the sound of sanding carries from the living room into the kitchen. The boy doing the sanding was altogether quiet.
"Travis says hi. Says you're looking strong. Proud."
His eyes aren't on her. They're on the bone in his hand, bleached down to yellow instead of stained red, and smoothed into a nice round edge on on end. The other end he's currently sanding into a square. Its possible he hasn't even seen her yet.
[Callie] *"Travis says hi" . . . She backtracks hurriedly, the last half of the sentence lost in the steady rasp of sand on bone . . sticking her head into the living room, balanced, one foot on the floor, one hand on the doorframe* Travis who?
[Boy] He stops sanding quite abruptly, looking up at her with a bit of a frightened look in his eyes. Slowly they become confused eyes, and finally revert back to that heavy, constant glare he seemed so fond of.
"Sorry." Says Boy. "Thought you were someone else." And he goes back to sanding.
"Nice work yesterday. Marrick told me you were the one that found that place."
[Callie] oh . . right . . *She settles more comfortably against the door, the soft grey fabric wrapped and twisted about her, bare legs and feet, shoulders damp where her hair falls against them. Regarding Boy and his sanding with obvious interest, and yet she doesn't ask about it* yes, I found it . . though if Gut-Song hadn't been there I wouldn't have gone in . . he turned up with some message or other and agreed to give me a hand
[Boy] "Nothing wrong with that. Scouting. Finding. Bringing info back. That works too. I should tell you though...we've got a certain responsibility in this pack. It sucks but...you'd have been responsible for Gut Song's safety if anything went wrong."
His eyebrows lift, as if remembering something impressive. "Gut song. He's found a...breeding hole...or something for Banes. Not far from here. We'll have to...muster? I think that's the word."
He blows at the bone, dispersing a heavy cloud of thick white dust.
"But we'll need to get more information first."
[Callie] *She shifts against the upright, rolling slightly to rest her back against it now. Standing in the doorway she glances across at him, sidelong, her hands slide in behind her out of sight. There's a moment's silence before she answers wryly.* Like Marrick and Sheridan. I was kind of aware of that. I just figured, if Gut-song went down, I wouldn't be alive for it to be a concern . . and it was an opportunity. If we'd left it and come back they might well have moved on. They saw me.
*one hand appears now, absently turning the ring that glints above her left eye as he speaks about the Banes* yeah . . call a muster . . that would be it. Who's calling, us or the Fenrir? . . and what information d'you need?
[Boy] There's a visible tension in him when she mentions Sheridan. A tightness in his shoulders and jaw, a raising of hackles. He glances up at the abused mural, and picks up the bone to start sanding again.
"Yeah..." Is his only reply to that part.
And he breathes, deeply. "We would, I'd think. But we need to know how much of a threat this is. I've heard Silence has gone traveling. I don't know who's the head Fenrir while he's gone, but Evan is the Beta of the Eagles. If this is enough for two packs to handle, then we'll team up with them. Otherwise, we'll have to inform the entire Sept."
He'd said We. Twice. But did he mean the people talking in that room, or his people?
"How's that test coming along, Callie?"
[Callie] well . . *the ring turns again and she hesitates. The tension in him and the change in atmosphere doesn't escape her* well . . one thing I can tell you . . I'm pretty certain the current Fenrir brass hat is that skinhead kid, Joe.
*another pause, while she consciously drops her hand and slips it back behind her again, and finally she responds to his question* I'm working on it . . there is something I think we should do . . all of us together
[Boy] "Yeah? What's that?"
He regards the bone again, holding it up to his eyes this time. One end tapers just until it arrives at the ball (which would usually fit in a socket), the other is wide and square. It almost looks like a drum stick from there.
[Callie] It's just an idea . . *and now she has to actually explain it, it's seeming less and less likely all the while . . but she presses ahead now they've reached this point. Her head drops slightly, a feathering of red drifting down across her face before she flicks it back and launches into her plan* ok . . it's Halloween coming up, as you probably know. It's Samhain . . for Fianna that's something more than just a chance to dress up and con sweets out of your neighbours . . not just for Fianna, but we do have a tradition of celebrating it. It's a chance to look back and remember those who have been lost, because we've all lost people one way or another . . *its coming out in a rush now* remember them together, celebrate them together . . but it's a wake, not a funeral . . I was thinking it might be good for us to do this, it's a ritual in some ways, it binds us and unites us and lets us move on together but without forgetting the past
[Boy] For a while he just stares at her, still holding the drumstick up at eye level. Its unclear whether any of it has really sunk in, or if he even understood any of it in the first place. He lowers the bone into his lap, takes one deep breath in, and a slow breath out.
"Tradition?" He says finally, and his eyes cast downward as he considers.
[Callie] yes . . tradition . . *it's not easy to tell whether this idea is going to be a runner or not. He just seems vaguely confused by the suggestion but she presses on, persevering* It's a bit like a gathering for the departed, but you can choose to speak about anyone who has been lost, remembering the good things of their life rather than their death. Generally there's a bit of a feast, and a portion is put aside for the spirits to attend should they wish. The main thing is that everyone gets to grieve and to celebrate together . . I've been in Fianna run septs where they set aside the whole weekend just for Samhain and everyone in the Sept takes part . . I thought it might be a good thing for us to do, here
[Boy] Eventually, after another long silence, acompanied by equally long stillness, he nods.
"I like traditions. Lets give it a shot."
Apparently that was a go.
[Callie] Oh! . . *clearly that takes her by surprise, and up and off the post like an electric shock. Regaining some composure, she folds her arms across the expanse of baggy t-shirt draping loosely on her small frame. Her eyes widen, and then she grins down at the floor . . a slow smile that narrows her eyes again and shows just a hint of teeth* oh . . great! *her head comes back up, having softened the smile now* I'll fix it all, I promise, I'll have it all ready
[Boy] "If you need any help just let me know." He says, and proceeds to stand. Boy holds the bone in his teeth and starts wrapping up the mat he was sitting on.
"I'm good with my hands. Good at making stuff, y'know?"
[Callie] yeah . . *she looks at the bone, and the tools . . it's still not clear what it is he's making but it's certainly nicely done* I can see . . and I'll ask. *and she steps back out of the doorway and returns to the kitchen*
And still there was the sound of sanding, blowing, the quiet breathing of a Boy who worked with his hands.
[Callie] *Yesterday was busy. Clearing out the basement, helping Marrick and Boy dispose of the evidence. By the time they were done it was well into the night. Today has mostly been spent sponging the mess from her jeans and top and hanging around in her room while they dry. Finally, wearing only a t-shirt baggy and stretched from long years of wear, and faded into an obsurity of greys, she emerges and heads down to the kitchen*
[Boy] Boy only saw the blur of Gray from his spot in the living room. He hadn't been sitting on the couch (which was still broken) but on a mat on the floor in the middle of the living room, sanding away at...something...in his hands. For a minute he cranes his neck to see who it was coming down the stairs. A minute too late as all he sees is the tail of a gray shirt and the heel of a foot.
A short while later the sound of sanding carries from the living room into the kitchen. The boy doing the sanding was altogether quiet.
"Travis says hi. Says you're looking strong. Proud."
His eyes aren't on her. They're on the bone in his hand, bleached down to yellow instead of stained red, and smoothed into a nice round edge on on end. The other end he's currently sanding into a square. Its possible he hasn't even seen her yet.
[Callie] *"Travis says hi" . . . She backtracks hurriedly, the last half of the sentence lost in the steady rasp of sand on bone . . sticking her head into the living room, balanced, one foot on the floor, one hand on the doorframe* Travis who?
[Boy] He stops sanding quite abruptly, looking up at her with a bit of a frightened look in his eyes. Slowly they become confused eyes, and finally revert back to that heavy, constant glare he seemed so fond of.
"Sorry." Says Boy. "Thought you were someone else." And he goes back to sanding.
"Nice work yesterday. Marrick told me you were the one that found that place."
[Callie] oh . . right . . *She settles more comfortably against the door, the soft grey fabric wrapped and twisted about her, bare legs and feet, shoulders damp where her hair falls against them. Regarding Boy and his sanding with obvious interest, and yet she doesn't ask about it* yes, I found it . . though if Gut-Song hadn't been there I wouldn't have gone in . . he turned up with some message or other and agreed to give me a hand
[Boy] "Nothing wrong with that. Scouting. Finding. Bringing info back. That works too. I should tell you though...we've got a certain responsibility in this pack. It sucks but...you'd have been responsible for Gut Song's safety if anything went wrong."
His eyebrows lift, as if remembering something impressive. "Gut song. He's found a...breeding hole...or something for Banes. Not far from here. We'll have to...muster? I think that's the word."
He blows at the bone, dispersing a heavy cloud of thick white dust.
"But we'll need to get more information first."
[Callie] *She shifts against the upright, rolling slightly to rest her back against it now. Standing in the doorway she glances across at him, sidelong, her hands slide in behind her out of sight. There's a moment's silence before she answers wryly.* Like Marrick and Sheridan. I was kind of aware of that. I just figured, if Gut-song went down, I wouldn't be alive for it to be a concern . . and it was an opportunity. If we'd left it and come back they might well have moved on. They saw me.
*one hand appears now, absently turning the ring that glints above her left eye as he speaks about the Banes* yeah . . call a muster . . that would be it. Who's calling, us or the Fenrir? . . and what information d'you need?
[Boy] There's a visible tension in him when she mentions Sheridan. A tightness in his shoulders and jaw, a raising of hackles. He glances up at the abused mural, and picks up the bone to start sanding again.
"Yeah..." Is his only reply to that part.
And he breathes, deeply. "We would, I'd think. But we need to know how much of a threat this is. I've heard Silence has gone traveling. I don't know who's the head Fenrir while he's gone, but Evan is the Beta of the Eagles. If this is enough for two packs to handle, then we'll team up with them. Otherwise, we'll have to inform the entire Sept."
He'd said We. Twice. But did he mean the people talking in that room, or his people?
"How's that test coming along, Callie?"
[Callie] well . . *the ring turns again and she hesitates. The tension in him and the change in atmosphere doesn't escape her* well . . one thing I can tell you . . I'm pretty certain the current Fenrir brass hat is that skinhead kid, Joe.
*another pause, while she consciously drops her hand and slips it back behind her again, and finally she responds to his question* I'm working on it . . there is something I think we should do . . all of us together
[Boy] "Yeah? What's that?"
He regards the bone again, holding it up to his eyes this time. One end tapers just until it arrives at the ball (which would usually fit in a socket), the other is wide and square. It almost looks like a drum stick from there.
[Callie] It's just an idea . . *and now she has to actually explain it, it's seeming less and less likely all the while . . but she presses ahead now they've reached this point. Her head drops slightly, a feathering of red drifting down across her face before she flicks it back and launches into her plan* ok . . it's Halloween coming up, as you probably know. It's Samhain . . for Fianna that's something more than just a chance to dress up and con sweets out of your neighbours . . not just for Fianna, but we do have a tradition of celebrating it. It's a chance to look back and remember those who have been lost, because we've all lost people one way or another . . *its coming out in a rush now* remember them together, celebrate them together . . but it's a wake, not a funeral . . I was thinking it might be good for us to do this, it's a ritual in some ways, it binds us and unites us and lets us move on together but without forgetting the past
[Boy] For a while he just stares at her, still holding the drumstick up at eye level. Its unclear whether any of it has really sunk in, or if he even understood any of it in the first place. He lowers the bone into his lap, takes one deep breath in, and a slow breath out.
"Tradition?" He says finally, and his eyes cast downward as he considers.
[Callie] yes . . tradition . . *it's not easy to tell whether this idea is going to be a runner or not. He just seems vaguely confused by the suggestion but she presses on, persevering* It's a bit like a gathering for the departed, but you can choose to speak about anyone who has been lost, remembering the good things of their life rather than their death. Generally there's a bit of a feast, and a portion is put aside for the spirits to attend should they wish. The main thing is that everyone gets to grieve and to celebrate together . . I've been in Fianna run septs where they set aside the whole weekend just for Samhain and everyone in the Sept takes part . . I thought it might be a good thing for us to do, here
[Boy] Eventually, after another long silence, acompanied by equally long stillness, he nods.
"I like traditions. Lets give it a shot."
Apparently that was a go.
[Callie] Oh! . . *clearly that takes her by surprise, and up and off the post like an electric shock. Regaining some composure, she folds her arms across the expanse of baggy t-shirt draping loosely on her small frame. Her eyes widen, and then she grins down at the floor . . a slow smile that narrows her eyes again and shows just a hint of teeth* oh . . great! *her head comes back up, having softened the smile now* I'll fix it all, I promise, I'll have it all ready
[Boy] "If you need any help just let me know." He says, and proceeds to stand. Boy holds the bone in his teeth and starts wrapping up the mat he was sitting on.
"I'm good with my hands. Good at making stuff, y'know?"
[Callie] yeah . . *she looks at the bone, and the tools . . it's still not clear what it is he's making but it's certainly nicely done* I can see . . and I'll ask. *and she steps back out of the doorway and returns to the kitchen*
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