There's a dead body in that rug

[Callie]

*Callie has been shopping. That much is obvious when she struggles up to the door of the pack house with a huge parcel, wrapped in plastic and trussed up with what looks like garden twine. It's a good job it's well protected as she's actually having a tough time keeping it off the ground and one corner or another seems to be constantly catching on things, bumping on the tarmac, or threatening to trip her up as she finally hauls it in through the door. However, she looks happy about it. Grinning from ear to ear as she dumps it in the hall-way and leans back against the wall to catch her breath.*

[Marrick]

(is she okay?)

[Callie]

*Callie has been shopping. That much is obvious when she struggles up to the door of the pack house with a huge parcel, wrapped in plastic and trussed up with what looks like garden twine. It's a good job it's well protected as she's actually having a tough time keeping it off the ground and one corner or another seems to be constantly catching on things, bumping on the tarmac, or threatening to trip her up as she finally hauls it in through the door. However, she looks happy about it. Grinning from ear to ear as she dumps it in the hall-way and leans back against the wall to catch her breath.*

[Marrick]

For the day, Marrick FIsher was incredibly... incredibly intense. It isn't to day that she is unwell, just unhinged. So, when the Fury is headed down the stairs, she is felt more than she is heard. It is down the stairs, a presence forceful and bright, but suddenly made well aware of itself. The Fury steps out in time to see Callie hauling things that looked like they weighed as much as she did. She cocked her head to the side, and then blinked for good measure. "Need some help?"

[Callie]

*She looks up. There's Marrick . . it's still a bit wierd, to be living here with them all, but she nods all the same* yeah . . thanks . . if you can give me a hand to my room (my room?), I ca do the rest

[Marrick]

"No prob," she tells Callie. The Fury moves to go help pick up the package. She's strong. Of course she's strong, she's an ahroun. It's given that they are strong, that they are fast, that they are built for speed and endurance. "Whatcha get?"

[Callie]

*It's heavy, with that unwieldy dead weight that makes things that much more difficult to maneuvre. In fact it's a wonder Callie got it this far on her own. Between them though they manage to carry it down the hall and up the stairs without damaging anything except Callie's fingers and she's not too fussed about that.* a carpet . . *she says* . . not sure quite what state it's in, didn't look too close at all of it . . but it was cheap as chips!

[Marrick]

"Ohhh, I wanna see it," she tells Callie. Yes, sometimes she is very much her age. In fact, sometimes she is very much all the eighteen years that she has and then some. All supposed maturity and what-have-you. She was as much of an adult as was required to be. All assumed importance and self-infatuation. "You settlin' in okay?"

[Callie]

oh me too! *flashes a glimpse of her grin back at Marrick and digs a knife out of her backpack, looks like a bowie knife but with a wooden handle, carved with intricate patterns currently obscured by her fingers as she cuts quickly through the twine. The cord pings back, tension suddenly released, and the mass seems to relax, sagging in it's plastic wrappings. Like opening a present, Callie carefully peels back the layers from the carpet underneath until it lies, rolled and folded in half, on the floor of her room.* well, so far so good . . nothing dead's fallen out yet!

[Marrick]

"I swear to god, Callie, if it has a dead body in it, I will cry." No, she wouldn't, but it might make her squeek in surprise. The carpet is released, and for now nothing dead had fallen out. The Fury kicked it a little to be sure that it was structurally sound.

[Callie]

*if she heard Marrick's question, she hasn't answered it yet, maybe she's just focussed on the carpet . . maybe it's magic? . . maybe it can fly? she giggles* it might be haunted . . I got it from a house clearance . . *and she folds it back and starts to unroll*

[Marrick]

"Where was it? We might need to start stockpilin' furniture. Some of ours caught fire once, an' furniture's expensive," she says. Matter of factly. She watches it unroll and the Fury is almost afraid to look. Almost, that is.

[Callie]

*On one knee, Callie looks up and gestures vaguely towards the bedroom window* couple of blocks over, I was on my way home and saw the signs . . they got stuff out all over the back yard. Some of it ok, some pretty crappy . . *she spreads the carpet out. Once bright colours obscured by what looks like eons of dust. Dark reds and blues, gold and browns, it looks turkish or moroccan. Intricate designs that cover the expanse of fabric, worn in places and dirty, but it was once an object of beauty. That's for certain. It's maybe about 5 foot by 3 and a half feet in size. No wonder it was heavy.* There! . . what d'you think?

[Boy]

There was one door on that floor that Callie hadn't been told about. It was there, clear as day, solid and real. She passed it more than a few times, most likely, going in and out of her room. Each time it was locked, just like it was when Boy showed her around the first day and completely omitted it from the tour, as if he hadn't even noticed it being there. But, for the first time since she'd been in the house, there came a clatter from behind that door, and the sound of tumblers in an old lock, followed by a squeaking hinge. Boy locked the door behind himself after coming out and replaced the key somewhere deep in his pocket. His hand rested on the door as if touching at something precious just before he turned and... "Oh." The look on his face is...well, the look of a teenager who'd just been caught. Some parents knew to take advantage of that look. They knew that the sudden shocked surprise was usually a good reason to ask 'What did you do?' But there were no parents here. Were there? "Hey guys. Didn't hear you come up. What's uh..." His eyes drop to the rolled out carpet slightly, the curious expression on his face came as naturaly as his frequent hundred yard stare or occasional scowl. "What's goin' on?"

[Wendy Berber]

to Boy, Callie, Marrick (mind another? Drugs kicked in!!!)

[Callie]

to Boy, Marrick, Wendy Berber ((go ahead :) ok by me))

[Boy]

to Callie, Marrick, Wendy Berber ((Come on in!))

[Marrick]

She looked it over, and the Fury found herself crouched, looking over designs with quiet pleasure. Dark reds, blues and golds and browns and colors that faded and moved and weaved intricately. It had been a thing of beauty, once. And, to the blonde, it still was. Something about it all made her smile with the look of quiet nostalgia. "I like it," she tells Callie. Boy looks caught, and he says that he didn't hear them come up. Marrick looks up briefly and lets the too-bright smile cross her face. She was still unhinged, still too intense, too feral, too something-lurking-under-her-skin-to-pounce for real comfort. "Callie got a rug," she says matter-of-factly, "it looks like the one in my old living room." Clarification. Boy might have never seen Marrick's old house, but she had described it before. Talked about the couch she had vaulted over time and time again. About the glass coffee table she had cracked with her head when she was twelve. She needed stitches to put that one back together. It was the first time her brother had ever driven his car. Aparently, you can't hide emergency room visits from your parents, but by god they tried. She couldn't see a Toyota Camry anymore without laughing and smelling blood.

[Marrick]

to Boy, Callie, Wendy Berber (Come play!)

[Callie]

I liked it too, they just had a corner bit showing so I took a gamble . . *Callie sits back on her heels at the edge of the rug, sweeping back the tangled mass of twine and plastic out of the way and pushing her sleeves back as if she were about to start scrubbing here and now with her bare hands* gonna clean it up . . it'll be fine . . then I'm getting some cushions and stuff to go with it

[Boy]

Boy's face did that thing it did. That thing that certainly wasn't a smile but was obviously a sign of being pleased by whatever he was hearing or seeing. Right now it was his sister talking about home their old home without so much as a frown or faraway look. It was also someone else settling into this place they'd made together. Making it her own. There are some things you pretend not to notice. Because noticing them changes them somehow, whether through perception or the knowledge of being perceived. So Boy was pleased, but he didn't smile. And he didn't say anything other than: "...Cool."

[Wendy Berber]

*There had been all sorts of banging around upstairs a few moments ago, and Wendy aimed to see what it was about. She's clattering up the stairs, all gangly limbs and exaggerated movement. Like a person pretending to run in slow motion. Except that..she wasn't. Wendy Berber not a thing of grace as she skids to a stop atop the stair and re-adjusts her glasses. She's holding a red sock in one hand. The tall spindly kin levels a slightly apologetic grin down to the garou gathered there.* Um. hey.. guys.

[Marrick]

"Yeah, so tell me when you start cleaning it up, I'd love t'help," she said. The transition was easy. Odd, because it was one of the few times that she mentioned anything about where she'd grown up without being upset or bothered or it stinging like a bad memory. Because, really, on some level she was starting to equate it all with something other than loss. Wendy's holding a red sock. Just one. Uho. "... I'm sorry?"

[Callie]

hi folks . . well, I was going to ask if you had a scrubbing brush, or a wire brush or something so I could make a start on it . . just get some of the dust out at least *she's on her feet again, bundling up the wrappings and dumping them over to one side of the room out of the way. Tucks her hair back behind those gold-ringed ears and regards the rug from a higher vantage point* . . do you have a hoover? . . just it's going to make a mess once we get started

[Wendy Berber]

Yeah. it um. It was stuck inside a white shirt? .. and.. Well... *Wendy winces, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly, scarecrow of a girl shifting from foot to foot nervously. Moon too full. Rage too thick up here for her sensibilities. But she remains, even if she moves a little closer to the strange teenage boy who'd claimed her as his mate, her skinny fingers twining with his shyly. She clears her throat and blurts* Everythings pink now.

[Marrick]

"Ohhhh, man, what all got pinked?" she winced. "If it was anything important or somethin' we could always go shopping or something. I got paid about a week ago an' this up comin' week should be a good..." Wendy winces. Marrick winces. THey both sit there in awkwardness. Marrick because she's embarassed, and Wendy because the moon is full, and Marrick Fisher is just a little too feral for her liking. "Man, this sucks I hate pastel pink shit." A pause. "Is it a good pink?"

[Wendy Berber]

It..kinda depends on where um..where stuff was in relation to ..the sock. The stuff up close is all vibrant and um.. like tie dyed? ... The stuff further away is all uniform but..kinda yucky. *She leans a little into Boy. weight all but insubstantial. Wendy and the Wind have an ongoing feud, as more than once she's been sent sprawling by an over exuberant gust while hanging clothes on the line. She's just that thin. Rubbing the back of her neck and smiling at Marrick as though the blonde fury was going to, at any moment, lose her mind and finish the job started by whatever left the scars on Wendy's boney shoulder.Its with relief she concentrates on Callie* Um..there's a brushy thing under the sink downstairs...it might work?

[Boy]

Boy gave Wendy that pleased look as well. The sock, on the other hand, had him curiously perplexed. And as he listened to the conversation go back and forth he simply shook his head displeased. "There's no such thing as a good pink."

[Wendy Berber]

yeah.. your stuffs a little. pink..too. *A wince down to Boy.*

[Marrick]

She looked at Boy. She looked at Wendy. She looked at the sock? And snickered.

[Callie]

guess you could always go get one of those washing machine dyes and finish the job off with a colour you liked *she says in response to Marrick's comment about pastel pink* or maybe see this as an opportunity to rethink your personal prejudices . . . anyway, let's have a look at this brush then and see if I can get this started . . you've got a yard and a washing line right?

[Boy]

Boy pursed his lips, picked a spot on the cieling to look at, and nodded his head. His clothes were pink. Of course his clothes were pink. "Well at least its not tainted, right? Besides, its getting to be layer season anyway. All I really need is one good sweater." He looked over to Callie for a minute, canting his head to one side, then stepped away from the door. "Right. To the back yard."

[Callie]

can you give us a hand with the carpet again? *she asks, of nobody in particular, glancing round from Wendy with her sock, to Boy and Marrick. Maybe it's directed at all of them. She grabs one corner and starts to try and lift it* if we can get it outside and over the line then we gotta beat that crap out of it!

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy nods, murmuring* I'll get some um. Dye. *Before she's off downstairs ahead of them. Her strengths lie in organization. Not in heavy lifting or even general co-ordination. She slips away to the laundry room*

[Boy]

"Now that sounds like fun." And with little more encouragement he grabs the tail end of the re-rolled carpet, ready to take it out back and show it who's boss.

[Doodle Rollin']

(Rite of Summoning: Spirit Brew (2 Gnosis). Wits 4(Rituals) + Charisma 3. Diff. 3 for a Jaggling Rat)

[Doodle Rollin']

(Gnosis Roll: Spirit's Temperment)

[Doodle Rollin']

(Binding Roll: Jaggling to the Service of the House. Diff 5 - 3 Gnosis Spirit Brew)

[Wendy Berber]

*The skinny kin fusses about in the basement, glad she'd just ruined some shirts and socks and underwear, rather than the off grey coat she'd picked up this morning for Doodle. Too much rage upstairs, Wendy glad to escape where there were no garou gathered, for awhile anyway.* ((going to concentrate on mage scene. fingers won't do 2 at a time))

[Marrick]

"Sorry again!" she tells Wendy, and winces for good measure. She starts to get up and straighten herself out. "Go beat things, I gotta... like... finish up some stuff."