Time/Date :It is currently 08:02 Pacific Time on Thu Jun 14 2007.
Place : Farmhouse
Weather :Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 47 degrees Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the east at 7 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.22 and falling, and the relative humidity is 93 percent. The dewpoint is 45 degrees Fahrenheit (7 degrees Celsius.)
Moon Phase :Currently the moon is in the waning New Moon phase (8% full).
The lane wends its way back and around the farmhouse to here, where it widens into a broad, grassy sward contained only by the woods which encircle it on three sides. Buildings break up the purity of the landscape: an open-sided structure which serves as a garage and the big barn, empty of livestock, to the east. A good-sized vegetable and herb garden furrows the land south of the barn, while a pyramid-like pile of rocks, of similar consistency to the gravel of the lane, rests a few yards south of the garage.
North of the buildings, the fields have long been fallow, hastening a conversion from farmland to natural prairie. A sliding glass door allows admittance to the farmhouse, the interior obscured by Levolor(tm) blinds in a wood-grain pattern. The lane leads out around the house to the southwest. The discerning can just barely pick out the beginnings of a faint path into the woods towards the southeast.
Having grown over the past few months, Basil's risen to the nearly average height of five foot eight inches tall. The boy's hair has grown too, no longer short and light blonde it's grown to reach his shoulders. Hanging loose and wild, the combed hair curls and twists near the edges in a straw like appearance. The angular and almost feminine appearance of his pretty face still remains, making him look somewhat younger at first inspection. Marring his otherwise attractive face are three scars running from the top of his right eyebrow, cutting right through it and across the eye down to the middle of his cheek. A close observer could tell that the eye in that socket doesn't match the blue in the other. Around his neck is a thick, wide black collar with metal studs covering the majority of it. A good eye could pick out a grease or some substance smeared on the metal to reduce how much it reflects. Across his slim shoulders hangs a black leather jacket regardless of weather, left hanging open. The shirt beneath is plain and black but features a large white design of a sheep on marionette strings in an awkward pose. His lower half is covered by leather riding pants and a big pair of old black leather engineer boots. His hands are covered with a pair of black plated riding gloves.
Sometime over the last couple of years, a teen girl with a poor attitude and a hair-trigger temper has grown up, and matured into a young woman. With a poor attitude and a hair-trigger temper. KL is a little over five-foot tall - no late growth spurt for her - and slimly built. She moves quickly, and is rarely still for any length of time. Her natural balance and co-ordination are clearly evident in her movement, but any hint of grace is smothered with her air of irritation, hostility and restrained aggression. She manages to turn even simple activities - like ordering fries - into not particularly subtle attempts to provoke fights.
Her mousy-brown hair hangs loose around her shoulders, the front falling to frame her face. Her hair looks like it has been cut recently, and by someone with at least a little skill. She's really quite attractive, perhaps not a pin-up, but far from ugly, with a cute upturned nose and wide expressive hazelnut eyes. However, any level of appeal her physical appearance might have is swamped by the anger in her gaze and the sullen set of her mouth. She stares at people - particularly people she doesnt know - with a cold fury, as if trying to decide exactly which way to kill them.
KL has pale skin, and on her right shoulder-blade is a two-inch-square tattoo of a winged horse. There isn't much in the way of excess flesh on her, her cheekbones are clearly visible and her bare arms have a tight musculature that speaks of regular and plentiful exercise.
She is wearing a pair of blue jeans that look brand-new, and have a designer label clearly visible on the rear, a pair of combat boots that also look new. On her upper half she is sporting a rather snazzy black leather jacket over a clean new white t-shirt.
It's a cloudy but dry morning in St. Claire, and the thin moon has brought KL out to repair the damage she did to the door. It's been an effort, but now, leaning against the wall of the farmhouse, there are two large panes of glass, protected by foam wraps. As well as this, there are the materials for runners, and the tools necessary. Well, most of them, however. You would think this would be a cheerful matter for the Fury Ahroun, but at the moment she is sitting in an unhappy pile on the floor, morosely staring at a page of a large book.
Basil peeks around the corner of the broken doorway, looking to his left then to the right where he spies the Fury Ahroun and all the materials. "Mmmhm hmmm hm?" He speaks around a sandwich in his mouth. Taking a big bite out of it, he steps out the door and asks again. "How are you today? Looks like you're about ready to get on with the business of replacing the door. Good moon for it too."
KL tilts the book up so Basil can see the title - How To Do It Yourself. "I think, and you know, this might be a record," she says, "that I'm actually glad to see you." She gestures at the building materials. "I think all this stuff is right, but I have no clue about what to do next. And I'm this close," she holds up a finger and thumb, half an inch apart, "to throwing this book through something crashy. *Despite* the moon."
"Nah. Needless destruction. Besides, you should never destroy books... Knowledge is power and all that." Basil walks over to take a look at her tools and the materials. "You've got everything you need right here, the problem is books aren't really that good for teaching. You can't ask questions, they can't help you check dimensions and blah blah blah. Have you penciled out the cut lines, measurements and stuff like that on the wood?"
The Fury looks forlorn. "I'm not very good at this," she says. "I measured the hole in the door, and then I got more than enough wood and stuff to fill it. So I need to pencil...on the thing?" She waves a helpless hand at the pile.
"Technically you can eyeball it, but it helps to make sure you're cutting in a straight line." Basil reaches into a pocket and pulls out a small golf pencil. "And something to guide your drawing. It's much harder than it looks to draw a straight line. Don't worry about it, I wasn't really good when I started either... But I got better, eventually. I even built the Guardian's new bunker thing home. It's much more comfortable than you'd think a hole in the ground should be." Basil takes a few steps closer to KL and crouches down beside her, smiling just a little bit. "Not sure when it is by the way, but happy birthday either way."
"It's been," KL says, with a grin. "But I'm bad at organising. And there's...well, not full moon, you know. And other considerations." She peers at the wood. "I think there's a rule here. You know. A metal one." A pause. "As opposed to most of the rest, which are mental." The Fury finds what she's looking for - a rule and a tape measure, and then starts marking out the necessary cutting lines, looking at Basil occasionally to check she's doing it right.
Basil either quietly watches for the most part to signal that everything is well, or gently corrects KL when it's not. "It must feel a little weird taking some learning from me." Basil comments quietly, pulling one leg from under himself to plop on the ground. "How old are you anyways? I would have got you a present, but I haven't been in the city enough to get a lot of cash. If you do do a party though, let me know. Give me some food and a list of what you like. I can probably cook better than anyone around other than Alesia."
"Me? I'm twenty," KL replies, with a grin. "Sure, yeah, I know that sometimes I behave like I'm about five." She peers at Basil. "Are you eighteen yet? And cooking would be gratefully received. I do a mean pasta, but that's about it, really." She continues to work. "And no, it doesn't feel weird. You know more about this weavercrap than I do." Her smile takes the sting out of the words. "So I learn. It's not like this is...fighting, or archery or anything actually important."
"You don't look it, really, I thought you were younger. In a good way." Basil assures her, looking at the door for a moment. "Nah. I was only fourteen when I got into this, was about fifteen when I rited, and now I'm sixteen. I'll be surprised if I see eighteen, but who knows?" Basil looks over at her again and runs a hand through his hair with a small smirk. "You'd be surprised. If the house needed major repairs tomorrow, how many people around here could do it? Besides, knowledge of putting things together is knowledge to take them apart too. Give me some blueprints and enough time, I'll tell you what to knock out to make a whole building fall down."
"The walls?" KL suggests. "Everything?" Slowly but surely, the frame of the new door is taking shape. "I guess I need to do the putty thing now? Put the windows in, then seal the frame at the top?" She looks at Basil, an eyebrow raised enquiringly. "Oh, and Jacob, possibly Reggie. Grey could have, Nat could have."
Basil nods approving at KL, finishes the rest of his sandwich in short order. "Yes. About the first thing, the walls are too obvious, too much of them on a big building to hit them all. What you want to do is find the load bearing beams in the basement or what not, and you weaken them or break them. Gravity will do the rest. Every building *wants* to fall down, you just need to let it."
"I guess it's kind of important not to be standing under it at the time," KL ponders. "I think I need your help with this." She indicates the glass and the frame. "Not because I can't lift them, but they're a bit too large to just be slid into place by one person." She glances at Basil. "Sorry, by the way."
"You can use a lot of things, I guess. A winch if it's strong enough, some kind of remote control lever, fire, explosives, stuff like that." Basil ponders aloud, then rises up to his feet. "Don't worry about it, I'll help you, just tell me where and when you want the glass. What're you sorry for?"
"I guess we put it in now," The Fury surveys her handiwork. It's rough, in places, but she's naturally dextrous and this isn't the first time she's done DIY, though it is the first glass door she's done. "Oh, and for being horrible to you."
"Don't worry about it. You didn't take my eye and you didn't feed me my tongue, you never did anything worse than Emma did. We ended up being friends." Basil turns and carefully hoists the glass up, just enough to carefully bring it over towards the door. "Alesia-" Basil speaks with a slight strain, his diminutive frame having a little trouble with the broad pane of glass. He holds off speaking again until the glass is lowered into place with a sigh of relief. "Alesia's thinking of asking you to a pack, if she hasn't told you."
"She has," KL says, checking the positioning carefully, as the glass presses in to the putty. "I'm not sure. She wants a pack of healing and cleansing, which is great, but I'm not sure it's for me. I don't want to be...Ahroun cheerleader. And I like packing under Vex." She starts to place the top of the frame on, squinting in concentration.
"I suggested going for Bear, but I guess I'm a little biased for him. I don't really like Totems that celebrate killing or make it seem like it's something special, even if I am good at it. I think it's important to keep the genie in the bottle as much as possible." Basil presses the glass into the putty at the opposite end, and in a few places KL's already touched to double check her work. "You can be cleansing and healing without being a wuss or a hippy though, just like you can be in a War pack without being a blood thirsty glory hound. I don't know what I should do, really. Join her? Go back to Vendetta? Find another pack? Part of me even wants to start one under Coyote."
"It's not that. It's... look, imagine a big battle," KL says, tapping a tack in to hold where she's glued the frame. "Can you imagine me watching the war packs go past, while my healing and cleansing pack held back. Because that's what healing and cleansing packs do. And they're really really important, I know. And they do need at least one Ahroun, because fuck knows our enemies aren't stupid. But...that's not me." She stands back and surveys her handiwork. "I think that's OK. Shall we try and mount it?"
"There ain't a law that says that's what they got to do, that's what the leaders have chosen to do." Basil murmurs, then nods at KL. "You want to hold the door up or screw in the hinges? Anyways, about the pack thing." Basil carefully lifts up the door to get it standing upright, warily watching the glass as if expecting it to fall out on his face. "I ain't gonna be finding one for me sometime soon, unless I start one, or go back to Vendetta."
"Oh?" KL says, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think this has hinges, you know. I think it slides. In which case, we just need to drop it on to the runners from the right angle." She pauses. "Wasn't Alesia keen on having you pack with her?"
"C'mon. You know people aren't lining up around the block to let me pack with them. I'm a Charach Bone Gnawer, I'm a guy that has Coyote say 'You're neat' in my dreams, and I make it a mandate that any pack I'm in allows me freedom. I'm not high on the list except for maybe a Coyote pack... " Basil looks back at the door, then shakes his head. "Guess I got distracted. You take the other side, I'll lift this one? Alesia wants me, but I'm not sure we'll find enough people. And things might change after she's done being a Guardian."
KL nods. "I'm not to sure how I feel about that. I mean, Guardian is a really honourable and important position. But..." A grunt of effort as the door gets lifted into place. It's a little more wobbly than it was, but not too bad. "...I don't know. They're a bit strange here."
Basil takes notice of just how KL lifts, less he lift too early or too late. "When I did it, people treated me all the same but I didn't volunteer to be looked at. We needed people to guard the Caern, and y'know, I'm a bastard... But I'm not a fucking bastard. So I stepped up. Jamethon is a great guy to lead them too, wise and strong. He's the guy that got me to respect the Get a bit more, Gunnar too."
This gets a nasty little snarl from KL, her lip curling slightly. She experimentally slides the door open and closed. "What do you think? Look OK?" She sniffs. "If it is, then we'll take it off, seal the wood and it'll survive." A pause. "Have you seen Felix since..."
Basil raises his eyebrow when KL flares up, then looks back down towards the door track. "Looks like it's all lined up and stuff, and it looks like it'll fit. I ain't seen him, and I don't really care what's happened to him either. I don't like people that assume I'm a criminal because someone 'more honorable' thinks I am. If I was going to sleep with Kevin again I'd at least be smart enough to leave the Sept *first*. I'm a Charach not a retard."
"I just wondered..." KL says, lifting the door again. "I haven't seen him, and nobody's told me they have, so...maybe he's dead." She pauses. "I do hope not. I mean, the little I can remember is that he's fucking objectionable, but that doesn't mean I wanted to kill him."
"Like I said, people don't show Ahrouns the respect they should. They don't get the whole 'We will snap and feed you your own fucking throat' thing because they don't feel it like we do. They only get it when they see us blow up, or when they get blown up on. He learned his lesson, he just had to pay a little more than the other students in the class." Basil lifts the door in tandem with the Fury, then brings the door back over to where it was. "Y'know, it really surprised me when Emma actually considered recruiting me for your pack."
"She did?" KL says, getting out a can of varnish sealant and a brush. "Apparently this does exactly what it says on the tin. Hopefully, that's 'seal wood' and not 'flammable'." A pause. "I'd have been a bit opposed then. Now...not so certain. There are definitely worse people to pack with."
"Both." Basil tells her with a small smirk. "You'd be surprised how many things in a hardware store are flammable. Or is that inflammable?" The Gnawer scratches the side of his head, then shrugs. "It's easy to do this. Just keep going, spreading it around. Don't go all over the place, keep going in one direction if you can help it. Make sure you drip off the excess before you start, and when there is excess on the wood, you move it about with the brush until it's gone." Basil glances over at her. "She did, something about me knowing the city and knowing the Wyrm was there. She was as skeptical as you, and I don't blame her. I wasn't a good person then, I'm still not now. The difference is that now... I'm not a bad one either. I just am."
"Flammable and inflammable mean the same thing," KL says, her eyes fixed on the varnishing. "And yeah, the city..." She looks up, brush hovering over the wood somewhat precariously. "Basil, you been obeying the second tenet of the litany recently?"
"Of course, with a pack or without, I patrol the city and the bawn area. Sometimes with Kevin and sometimes alone, and I try to win when I find it. God damn though if there hasn't been a few times where I always got screwed because of it or came close to a Veil Breech. If it weren't for the Dilerium, there are a couple times where I'd have died or made a big mess. I was with that business a while ago, you know? The shooting and the van full of explosives."
KL shakes her head. "Van full of explosives?" she asks. "It's just...it's been a while since I got my claws dirty with our enemies' blood." She considers. "Or whatever the fluid they have that's equivalent." She shrugs. "Just looking for an opportunity. I'm not the most natural person in the city, and...people get out of my way so actively it's hard to tell who's evil and who's scared." She finishes varnishing the wood. "This should take an hour to dry," KL comments. "Fancy some milk?"
"When I was a kid, I lived in a neighborhood full of... Questionable people, y'know. My neighbor used to beat his wife or girl friend or something, lots of gang bangers, stuff like that. Problem is not every gang banger or drug dealer is 'evil' and maybe that wife beater has a bane riding his ass. I just wish I could tell when someone was doing something wrong because they were evil, and when someone was doing something wrong because they didn't know, or because... Well. The last thing I went into-" Basil starts, heading inside. "We found this woman and her husband and they had some evil dog things in the basement, that he made, he tortured them and beat them and... They were weird. I forced the info out of her... She knew what was going on, she was just looking away because she didn't want to admit the man she loved turned into a monster. It was either let her go, or kill her. I let her go."
"Nasty. Difficult. Good call," KL says, with approval. "Evil dog things?" Her nose wrinkles. "OK, that really is unpleasant." She steps through the doorway into the kitchen, returning moments later with a plastic beaker full of milk. "Thanks, Basil. I mean, really. You didn't have to..." She gestures at the door. "I owe you."
"When it comes to something's life, I've got to play it safe. She didn't seem evil, she was probably a little tainted, definitely scared. 'S'cuse me ma'am, we're here to whack your husband. Please tell me where he is so we can cut his throat and be on our way!' Even though he was a sick and twisted asshole, that day we still killed the man she loved and ruined her life. Super cool." Basil fetches two glasses for the two of them, setting down one for KL and one for himself. "You don't owe me nothin'. You were big enough to bury what we had between us, so I did the right thing and helped a good Garou."
"Heh. And a fellow criminal, don't forget," KL says, with a wry grin, supping on her milk. "I can't remember whether Felix mentioned that or not. Maybe that's what set me off." She shrugs. "Tell me about it. Even in my limited experience, the number of women who stay with really evil men - any sense. It's hard...hard to give up on everything you've invested, I guess."
"I guess, but I'll never understand it myself. I guess some of them have nowhere else to go, or don't know anything else. Guess it makes you think a little, sometimes. If you kill the abusive husband that was supporting her, what happens to her and her children? That's why I always try and think, to get a feel for things before I kill. Sometimes a situation is shitty, but it's better than the alternative." Basil rests his head down on the table, banging it lightly into the edge. "One of these days I think I want to get married or something. Maybe."