Time : It is currently 13:50 Pacific Time on Fri Jun 10 2005.

Place : Farm House : Hallway and Living Room

Farm House : Hallway and Living Room

All doorways in the front part of the house lead to the front hallway, a J-shaped area with the short tail starting at the stairs, the front door hitting the bottom curve, the doorless opening to the living room halfway up the long side, and the also doorless opening to the kitchen and dining room at the very top. The hall has a simple wooden floor, and decorated with a generic print of soft-colored flowers hanging on the wall to the right of the front door, and a tall table sitting under the print which serves as a place to toss keys. A closet under the stairs serves as a place to hang coats or to toss shoes.
The doorless opening to the living room is halfway up the side of the hall's J, and the word cozy might spring to mind when looking into is, as it seems to radiate comforting vibrations. A long couch sits against the south wall beneath a large bay window curtained only by sheers that manages to obscure the view in but only filters the day's light. A variety of out-of-date magazines are strewn atop a low coffee table; more neatly presented are the plethora of books filling the small bookshelves which line the eastern wall. Three chairs sit about the room, focused inward, to allow group conversations. Large floor pillows are stacked in one corner of the room, except one, which lies carelessly in the middle of the floor, apparently left out the last time it was used.
An opening in the northern end of the hallway allows access to the kitchen and dining room at the back of the house, while carpeted stairs twist up at the other end of the hall, leading to the second floor. A door at the base of the J lets out to the front porch.

From downstairs comes the sound of the front door opening, then being slammed loudly. Heavy booted footsteps sound across the hallway as whoever it is walks - or rather stomps into the kitchen. That's followed by the sound of cursing - a not-particularly muffled "Fuck!" in a female voice.

"Cole?!" This comes the anxious, tear-bitten call from the bathroom. The voice decidedly female, and definitely mixed with fresh tears.

The mumbled stream of invective that followed the loud swearword cuts off with a surprised note. The heavy footsteps can be heard moving to the foot of the stairs. "No." comes the call back from below. "And your milk is going off."

"I need Cole!" comes the demand from Sophie. "Can you get him. Please!" There are still tears in the tremble of her voice.

"No idea where he is." The shout comes back from below. "I'm going to drink it anyway." There's a pause. "It was OK, actually! Can I help? Other than by finding Cole?"

"Is she gone?" comes the reply. "I need an ice pack, with mint wrapped in it." Sophie pauses, "I'm upstairs in the bathroom."

"Is who gone? And why do you want mint in it?" KL shouts back. Apparently the concept of walking up the stairs is beyond her.

"Because ice on its own smells funny, and is Clemency gone?" Sophie sniffs again. "I hate her!"

"Not met her, but there's no-one here but me at the moment." A beat, and then, "I'll see about the ice." KL retreats to the kitchen, and a couple of minutes pass before the sound of loud thumping echoes up the stairs. Some few moments later, there's the sound of steps being climbed and a knock on the door of the bathroom.

"Who are you? What tribe? I won't open the door until I know." Sophie turns the water off and readies her hand on the doorknob.

There's a snort of laughter at this. "KL Cole, rited Escapes-From-Money, Cliath Ahroun of the Black Furies. Pleased to meet you, Miss Talking-Door. Now, do you want your ice, or shall I go and make a cocktail?"

The door opens just a crack and Sophie peeks out. The right side of her face is bright red and the slight hue of blue is beginning to show up under her eye. "You're the kind that likes to protect girls, right? I need you to protect me."


Standing at an arrogant five foot three inches, this young teenager commands the space around her as if it were in existence solely for her. Her features are flawless: smooth, clear skin, high cheekbones, a button nose and dark, green eyes are set on a slightly ovaled face. Her hair is long and dark brown, slightly wavy and reaching to her middle back.
She moves with a steady grace; shoulders up and posture tall. Her gaze, often friendly enough, is also one of pride and cockiness, and her smile can just as quickly be turned to a wicked sneer.


At a little over five foot tall and with a slim build, KL is hardly awe-inspiring on first sight. She appears to be around seventeen years old and still carries a teenager's air of disenchantment and irritation.
Her mid-length mousy-brown hair is today held in a neat plait that hangs down just below her shoulders, and is held at the end with a brown leather band. She would be quite attractive - in particular she has a very cute, upturned, nose - were it not for the sullen and aggressive set of her mouth and the hostility of her gaze. Her hazelnut eyes look out with disappointment and poorly hidden anger, as if the world were a holiday villa that didn't match the travel agent's description. Her skin is oddly pale, and on her right shoulder-blade a two-inch-square tattoo of a winged horse is visible. Physically, she's well proportioned, and her bare arms show a tight musculature that speaks of regular exercise.
She's got a habit of slouching and of leaning up against any available support. When she forgets to slouch, however, she moves with a surprising degree of grace and compact poise.
She is wearing a white T-Shirt which has been freshly cleaned, a pair of white cycling shorts, white sports socks and a pair of white trainers which have seen better days. There's a large bandage wrapped around her left forearm.

KL seems lost for words for a moment, staring at Sophie. In her hand is a bag full of crushed ice and some green looking leaves. Eventually she manages to find some words. "Protect? From whom?" She thrusts the ice forwards, a curiously un-graceful move, her eyes never leaving Sophie's face. "Your ice. I think it's got mint in. Might be cabbage. I'm not a chef."

The girl looks at the ice for a moment, and decides that regardless of what green leaf is inside, she needs it. It goes up to her face and she looks into the mirror. "I'm going to have a black eye!" The tone makes Sophie sound downright miserable about the idea. "From Clemency, and the others that might hurt me. I'll pay you."

KL looks interested at this. "Who's Clemency? And more to the point, who are you?" She folds her arms in front of her chest. "Are you kinfolk?"

Sophie pouts at this, dabbing the ice oh so daintily to her cheek. "I am Sophie Brandenmyre. No. I'm a Philodox."

"Why don't you shift and heal that eye up, then?" KL asks, not unsympathetically. "Or do you not know how? Pleased to meet you, Sophie, anyway."

"No. I don't want to, I want it to just go away. I want to go away." Once more Sophie is pouting. "She hit me because I wouldn't apologize for being alive." Dab dab.

"Ah. I see. You're there. Do you want me to build an outhouse for you to destroy? That's what I did when I was a cub." KL says, leaning sideways against the wall by the bathroom door, arms still folded, eyes still fixed on Sophie. "And Clemency is a...?"

Sophie wipes at her eyes with her free hand and makes an obvious gesture to put her hair back into place. "She is one of those Silver Fangs. And a raging jerk. She hit me, then grabbed me by my throat and threw me over the couch!"

"Oh. She was obviously in a good mood then." KL says with a grin. "What had you done to annoy her? The moon's not that fat, so it can't just be the time of the month."

Sophie frowns. "She told me to apologize, I asked for what, then she said for being me. And I said that wasn't a reasonable thing to apologize for. She's mad that I didn't get on my knees and start kissing her feet when she walked in. I think."

Sophie pages to the room: I need to go here. I could have her lock herself back in the bathroom, if you wanna aim that way.

"Ah." The Fury Ahroun says with a little shrug. "Next time, why not apologize? Or be prepared to take your lumps. I mean, it's a fair set of options, really." There's a hardening of her expression, though her eyes are still fixed on the cub girl.

The girl just looks at the other, lower lip trembling. "I would not apologize just for being alive! I have every right to be!" The door is shut again and the sound of the lock clicks. Though quieter this time, the tears can once more be heard.

"I'll have a word with her." KL says, through the door, but there's a grudging note in her voice. "Now, I'll go back to stealing your foodstuffs until you decide to come out. Or I get bored. Whichever happens first."

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