Reason to Worry and Memory Lane

[Boy]

This was reason to worry. Or at least Boy seemed to think so. He'd been standing in the living room for hours in front of the couches, in front of the mural of the black unicorn that adorned the majority of the wall there. The mural that was now chipping visibly. Boy stood there...and stewed in his own worry.

[Wendy Berber]

*Long day at work. She's just fumbling her key from the door, sighing quietly as she leans against the wall, happy to be home. She's a little damp, rain caught in fat droplets on thick black hair. She rubs under her glasses and sets her laptop case down, turning the lock and calling into the packhouse.* Hello? Anyone around?

[Boy]

It took that much to rip him from his stupor of worry. Boy headed for the front door, watching his mate struggle with her load for a few seconds before he steps forward to take close the door behind her. "Hi Wendy. Oh. You're all wet. Want me to get you a towel?"

[Wendy Berber]

No um, Its ok. I'm not that bad.. *The glasswalker kin smiles at her mate. She always looks a little insubstantial when she comes home from work. Black dress slacks too billowy, blouses too big in the shoulders in order to be long enough in the arms. She looks as though she's nothing but air inside those clothes, no body to speak of, but for face and wrists. Wendy sniffs and tilts her head.* Um.. did no one make supper? I thawed chicken with a note on it...

[Boy]

"Ahh!" There's a pained look of realization on his face suddenly, and he grimaces, sucking in air between his teeth. Boy didn't usually grimace. He was usually careful not to actually show his teeth. it looked a little odd on him. "I forgot. I'm sorry, I've been...a little distracted today. Uh...we can...make supper together?"

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy bobs her head. A blink at the strange expression, she adjusts her glasses as though perhaps having not seen him quite right.* Um.. yeah. Supper together sounds good. Fettuccine sound okay? .. I'm kinda tired, and its really.. well its pretty easy. If we cheat and use the little um.. package sauces. *His mate doesn't ask why he's been distracted today. She just accepts that he has, and will tell her if he feels like it. She picks up her laptop case and makes to put it on its shelf in the livingroom, stalling out as she sees the shape of their mural. Her arms sag a little.* Oh.

[Boy]

Boy follows behind, shoulders hanging as heavily as the corners of his mouth after following Wendy's gaze." "He's back. Only he's...really pissed." And Wendy could probably hear her mate breathing in a slow, deep breath and letting it out again. "And I owe you an apology."

[Wendy Berber]

*That has her turning around in confusion. Eyebrows drawn together.* Boy... whats wrong? *She curls a long twiggy arm around her equally long twiggy body, other hand pushing at her glasses as she blinks owlishly.*

[Boy]

"I'm supposed to keep you safe. That's my responsibility. You do so much for us here and all I really have to do is make sure that you're safe. I haven't really been doing that. Not as well as I should be. And for that, I'm sorry." He shifts on his feet, eyes dipping down to the floor for a long moment before they come back up to meet Wendy's gaze. "And before you say anything...I know that you think I've tried. But...I could have done better. Its like Dietrich said. There's a time for quests in the Umbra and chasing down ghosts and secrets, and there's a time for taking care of what's right in front of you. I shouldn't have ever let myself become distracted the way I have. And I intend to make this right." And that was it. He stood taller now, jaw fixed, more determined.

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy opens her mouth, then shuts it. Nerdy girl quirking her lips to the side. Its clear from her expression she thinks he's been doing more than fine, meeting his gaze fondly with ink blue eyes. She dips her head and nods.* ... Ok. ... Fettuccine? *She ignores the chipped mural and sets down her laptop, moving towards Boy and the Kitchen.* Is your friend um.. Doodle..? Here for supper too? I can make Garlic bread and salad too.

[Boy]

Boy's serious, solemn expression descends into a sudden, uncontrolled, almost goofy smile. He nods his head, conceding to his mate. "Yeah. Fettuccine." He follows Wendy into the kitchen, double checking on the chicken she said she left to thaw. Maybe it was still salvageable. "Doodle? Yeah. Yeah, I think he should be around somewhere. Uh, that reminds me. Do you think you can maybe get him some warm clothes? Maybe from the surplus or Salvation Army or something?"

[Wendy Berber]

*The chicken has been thawing in the fridge, and yup.. there it is. With instructions on shake'n'baking it. Wendy moves into the kitchen and peels off her too big blouse, down to a tanktop that does fit, even if its somewhat unflattering on her spindly frame. Her blouse set on the back of a chair as she fusses about for pots and pans.* I can get him something warm. A winter jacket too.. maybe um.. some boots? *She's considering, head down as she bargain hunts in her brain, thinking over finances and how to squeeze blood out of pennies. She pauses, spindly fingers playing along the rim of a pot. Hesitant. She stands up, large pasta pot curled against her hip as she nibbles her lip and looks to Boy.* Um.... Boy? Uh.. you know how - *She stops, shaking her head and starting again.* Uh - .. we had a um, discussion.. a couple weeks ago.. um, the day I went to the hospital?

[Boy]

Boy was rooting around in the fridge, transferring the chicken back up to the freezer and continuing to search for things they might need immediately. His shoulders were moving actively around the open door, clinking mayonaise and jam jars together. But when Wendy brings up their talk from the other day and he stops abruptly. Boy stands slowly, looking over the refrigerator door. "Yeah? The uh...talk about...yeah. I remember. What about it?"

[Wendy Berber]

Oh no.. I was um use that in the ... um..... . *She opens the freezer back up and takes the chicken out, murmuring shyly.* You can't refreeze it.. um.. once its thawed. Salmonella. It'll be um, chicken fettuccine. Thats all. *She sets the chicken package down on the counter and fiddles with the pasta pot before settling it down as well. Pinking as she has to drum up the nerve to speak again. She fidgets with the knobs on the oven..* Yeah. Um.. *She rubs her lips, as though prepping them for further words. Nerd's face pinking further as her brow furrows.* Didi.. you know.. how long you wanted..um, to wait? before we did that? *She ventures a glance down to him over her glasses, shy.*

[Boy]

Boy didn't do much other than stay out of the way. He was already distracted to begin with, and now, this particular subject, only took him deeper away from this particular reality. "Uh...Uh...not...not exactly." Boy shifted nervously from foot to foot, pushing the he fridge door closed and standing there, looking more than a little unsure of what to do with his hands, his words, or himself. "Why, did you?"

[Administrator]

Doodle, welcome to Lake View (Northside) (Now)

[Wendy Berber]

Well I.. .. Kinda. .. Yeah. *Sheepish admission, Wendy stands and fidgets, clearing her throat and looking at the stove.* Um, with Soledad and Callie.. and um, If Doodle stays too... I just.. Once I'm .. well. I can code right through as long as I don't get too sick? But I wouldn't be able to work at the bookstore for awhile. Just.. because.. of the ladders? We'd need.. I think. another Job? For enough food? *That probably didn't make sense, but Boy's mate was burning red from a blush, swallowing awkwardly and moving to fill a pot with water.*

[Boy]

Oddly enough there was a smile in there. A sudden rush of breath that sounded like relief, or relieved tension. "Right. Whew. Right, uh. We've still got Marcus's stuff. from the business. It'll be a little bit harder, but I can probably keep that going, bring in some extra cash. And...Uh. I dunno. Maybe I can do a few odd jobs on top?"

[Doodle]

Yawning announces his arrival. Well yawning and the odd little pop sound made when someone cracks through the umbra like a sudden space filling. One might think that teleportation was a sound like that once it got invented. Just a non-heralded little Pop And there he is on the couch, sleepy eyed, rubbing at his left socket and clapping his jaws to work the bad taste out of the corners of his mouth. His hair is all bushy and crowded around his head, in desperate need of a comb. His skinny (read: Skinny. Not Wiry. Not fit. Skin, bones and cartilage) frame is dressed in only an old pair of track pants, the cuff on his right leg riding up nearly to the knee. The pile of blankets he'd brought in with him had been tucked up semi-neatly beside the couch, out of the main traffic areas and his bag... ...Well that stayed with him, looped over one bare shoulder and settled against a non-existent hip. The yawn was lasting a good ten seconds, mouth dangling open like a fish to the bait.

[Wendy Berber]

Oh.. *The spindly nerd, nods, a bashful smile flickering across her face in response to Boy's own.* Ok. that might w-*There's a pop and a yawn, and Wendy clams up, setting her pot on the stovetop and turning it on, looking over her shoulder towards the noise.*

[Boy]

He was looking on expectantly, not exactly sure what to expect, but glad that this wasn't going negatively. And then there's a familiar pop in coming from the living room that attracts both their attentions. Boy gives Wendy a single nod, sort of as if to say 'we'll finish this later' and heads into the living room. There was a wall behind the couch that doodle crashed on. And on that wall was a mural: A large, noble and aggressive looking Black Unicorn. It had been there when Doodle came with them the night before. It was a bit campy, sure, but illustrated this pack's dedication and pride in their totem. Today that mural was pealing. Not horribly, but noticeably. And Boy was also noticeably less chipper than he was the night before. "Hey." He says to the theurge on the couch. "How'd you sleep?"

[Doodle]

"...Like rocks in Cold water..." He leans forward, bag slinging off his shoulder and settling on the table, the thick rectangular shape of it's innards making this a none to difficult task. He snaps the flap button and unfolds it, peering inside with narrowed, sleep-encrusted eyes, one hand dissappearing into the depths, around several bulky box like shapes, to root at the bottom, where more free and oblong shapes reside. Clinks, clanks and clunks arrive on the ends of his words. "You guys have like..." He pauses, gulping while he searches to wet his throat "...No taste or touch over there s'far as the spirits go. I had to dig into the Scurry population just to make a few friends, which wasn't hard. This area a town is pretty Eight Legs though..." And he's glancing up at Boy with a screwed up sort of frown on his face. Like he were trying to impart something while not trying to be offensive about it. "...And I'm...not really gettin' much from the hum either, Boss..." An instinctive word, that. Boy walked and talked like an Alpha, it was only natural for Doodle to lean into that fact. "...You said you guys hum with Black Unicorn but..." And he lifts his hands helplessly in the air, shrugging in the same motion, a small bundled up piece of a donut appearing in his hand as it emerges from the bag, wrapped in plastic wrap.

[Boy]

He gave doodle a long, even stare for a while. Though, to be fair, if he really looked he could probably tell by the focus of his eyes that Boy wasn't actually looking at him, but through him. "Yeah. Well. I also said he was demanding. And that we tried to abide by him." For a moment his eyes glance up to the chipped mural. "We fucked up. And he's pissed. But we're making it right." Another slow breath in and quick breath out. "You hungry?"

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy peeks round into the living room, taller than Boy by a long shot, and so thin she could turn sideways and disappear. She dips her head and offers Doodle a shy smile. They'd seen each other when she'd groggily made him up a bed last night, but not for long. Noting the donut, the nerd blinks through her glasses and murmurs.* Um yeah.. I'm making chicken Fettucine right now.. if you want supper D-Doodle? *Boy's swearing. Alot. Wendy looks at him, opening her mouth and closing it again, before bringing her hand up to hide a goody smile. She casts her eyes to Doodle again, taking his size in for future clothing purchases. Maybe she should learn how to sew... * Oh.. um.. Hi. I'm Wendy.

[Doodle]

"Oh..." He blinks and turns to look back at the Mural with Boy, only to return with the Philodox as he asks another question. "All the time..." He leans a little outward, eyes slipping to Wendy, wide and hopeful. When she says what's for dinner, he's already half-way through a furious sort of nod that speaks for his stomach. The Donut is tucked back into his bag for later. "Hi, Wendy! I'm D-...well yea' you-" He chuckles, bouncing a little awkwardly on the couch before lifting his eyes to Boy again. "Did you guys need help with that...?" A pause. Then hand gestures of vagueness and a hurried explanation "Black Unicorn...that is...'Cause I can" Pointing at himself and then the air beside him, waving mystery lines. Universal sign for Umbral.

[Boy]

"Actually no. You can't. I thought you could but--" He jerks his head in the direction of the chipped mural. "He says you can't says he doesn't even want to meet you until Marrick and me make things right." And he purses his lips in a slight expression of shame. Though his eyes wore more worry than anything. "So we gotta do that first. Oh, and the other stuff, I mean the missing spirits and stuff, I think it might have something to do with the three Ahrouns that were living here up until...Monday. A lotta Rage. They probably got scared off." And with that he joined Wendy at the doorway, about to head into the kitchen when he glances over his shoulder again. "C'mon. Lets get cookin'."

[Wendy Berber]

I've got um, juice? If you wanted something to drink? *She mentions to the bonegnawer, glancing at him curiously before ducking into the kitchen to slide noodles into a boiling pot. Boy's girl-mate turns her back n the door and starts mucking about mixing up a powdered fettuccine sauce. She tilts the chicken to Boy and asks timidly.* Um.. You're better with a knife than I am.. could you cut these into cubes?

[Doodle]

He turns to look at Wendy, who vanishes almost as quickly as she asks about Drinks. He leans forward farther to catch her. "I could Juice! You guys cook?" He's already up and hovering with avid attentiveness and proximity to Boy, when the Philodox glances back around toward Doodle again. His eyes are leaping throughout the kitchen, still half naked from the waist up, bag left on the Table and- "Oh, one sec." ...He moves back to the Table, snapping the flap of the bag into place and lifting it to snug over one shoulder, settling the weight at the small of his back before returning to the kitchen again. "Oh, no I wouldn't dream of stepping on yer Totem's toes but well..." He shrugs a little, tipping a hand back and forth infront of him. "...Doesn't mean you can't have a consultant on the matter? You guys can always ask questions if you" The world's tiniest limp-shrug "...ya know, have 'em."

[Boy]

Wendy's request gets a quick nod and Boy demonstrates a (probably) surprising familiarity with the kitchen as he pulls out a cutting board and kitchen knife from the lockers and drawers. He gets started cubing the chicken. "Well, yeah. We'll definitely need the help eventually. But until then, this mess is ours to clean up. Though...I think you ought to go with us; me and Marrick; at some point to see...well...what not to do when--Uh, if you ever start running with us." He shrugs, looking back at the theurge for a minute. "But you've got other things to worry about. You think about what you're gonna give to Maelstrom yet?" "

[Doodle]

"....Yea'..." There is a note of melancholy in his voice, something impossible to hide in his young features and face. It seems almost as if he wouldn't know how to were he to try...hiding it, that is. He's got his bag out on the kitchen table and the flap undone when Boy turns around, rummaging around inside again. Several things emerge and are set on the table during the search: A large Shoebox that takes up half of the bag's occupancy. Red electrical tape and images of Rats layer the outside so thickly, one would think that's all it is made of. Two books, equally layered in stickers, one of skulls and crossbones of various colouration and design, the other a bright lime green, etched in the same radioactive worm sticker. And two bottles of what-used-to-be-store-bought-water, now filled with that same oddly luminescent blue liquid. And then finally he gets to a folded up sheaf of thick paper. "You said it had to be important..." He begins to meticulously unfold the parchment, features pursing, growing frank and all together...reluctant?

[Wendy Berber]

*She's moving about with confidence in the kitchen. Confidence. A new word to be applied to Wendy Berber. Setting juice on the table with glasses for all three of them, Unflattering tanktop and black slacks. She's scarred, kin bearing deep teeth marks along her back and collar, where a garou cousin had picked her up and shaken her like a muppet. A newer angrier scar at her throat. She sets about cooking, quiet for a good while while the boy's talk.*

[Wendy Berber]

*She does however, watch with timid interest as Doodles unpacks his things, stirring sauce and eyeing things curiously. A rat box? She smiles slightly, curiouser and curiouser.*

[Boy]

"Yeah." He says it flatly, setting the knife aside for a second to give doodle his attention. "A sacrifice. Something that hurts to lose. That's what we were told and that's what we gave." He juts a chin out at Doodle's collection on the table. "What you got?"

[Doodle]

He doesn't seem to hear Boy. Not right away anyway as he unfolds the piece of paper several times, until it's broad enough to span half the table itself. It's the sort of paper you could only find in a sketch book from some art store, the black smudge marks of pencil all around the edges, fingerprints dotting the back. He looks over it somberly, features thinning out, mouth slightly ajar- "...Hmm?" An eye back at Boy, then down at the contents on the table, a rapid fire assessment coupling together with a finger pointing guide. "More Gnosis Brews. Handy things in a Binding or negotiation pinch." At the pair of Water bottles. "My sketchbooks. Nothin' too proud in there, I haven't had a lot of time to find good subjects lately..." Almost apologetic wave at the pair of books. "...Oh and Friendly, of course..." He taps the shoe box with an affectionate sort of flicker. "...And this..." He turns back to the picture, that wave of...something...seems to melt back into his features again as his gaze settles on the picture in his hand, laid out on the table beside the other stuff: It is a Woman. A Striking woman, her nose straight and narrowed, hair a wild array of falling curls and crimps about her head and face. Her chin is pointed and almost dangles off the shoulder she's turned around to stare over. A minx in her eyes, made up of a varying complexity of shades so minute one would need a magnifying glass to truly count out the hours of meticulous in them. Her lower lip is pierced with a ring of some sort and a red lipstick print, the only colour in the image, graces the slenderness of an exposed neck. The fold creases do little to take away from the image. "...Is Lee-anne." A pause, leaning back like the picture needed room. To breathe. To be. A little reverence in the way he moved the bottles of Gnosis to the far side of the table, almost as if the capped vessels spilling were a threat he wouldn't tolerate.