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Oct. 26th, 2010 08:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shelbyrouIt is currently 13:29 Pacific Time on Tue Oct 26 2010.
Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (75% full).
Country House
Shelby comes down the steps from the second floor, a certain warm humidity in the air the only outward sign of a recent shower. The Ragabash is neatly dressed, her hair tidily coiffed, and makeup securely on. The mail drop beside the front door seems to be her goal - either that, or she's heading outside, and to her car.
A key works in the lock and the door swings open. The owner of the house steps inside, glancing into the house as she does. "Hi, Shelby," she says in an absent sort of voice, swinging an overnight dufflebag off her shoulder.
"Oh," says Shelby, and, "Good afternoon, Zosia," in the very next breath, waiting until the door's closed before she appends, "-rhya. --Have you eaten?" She picks up the mail and glances through it, lips pursing at the scant handful of envelopes.
"Yeah, had something a bit ago," Zosia says, eyeing the envelopes before storing the bag by the door. "Anything important?" It is debateable if she means in general or in the mail.
"Midas thinks it's almost time for you to change your oil," the Ragabash reports before handing the entire lot, unopened, to the federally-appointed recipient. "What's going on with that new Fostern, by the way? Mr. Hudson?"
"He isn't staying," Zosia says flatly, taking the envelopes and heading into the living room. Seating herself in her chair, she starts to look through each one. "Bills, bills, bills. How boring. I'll send it to the accountant." That decided, she looks toward the Ragabash. "He's looking for someone. Have you talked to him?"
Shelby follows after, lingering behind the sofa with one hand trailing artfully along its back. "Who, Grant-rhya? No, not after Thursday. Or do you mean the person he's looking for? Gavin... Holiday? Halloway? Interesting coincidence, that they're both G-H names. Grant Hudson, Gavin H-something-or-other."
"Rather," Zosia agrees, leaning her head back and staring at the ceiling. "Quite a few remarkable coincidences, I think."
Shelby looks politely expectant for a second or two before the delicate prompt: "Oh? You were giving me quite a few meaningful looks the other night. I hope I interpreted them properly."
"You did! I wanted you to keep your mouth shut and not give out too much information which, admittedly, seems a rather obvious turn." Zosia draws a pattern on the arm of the chair with a finger. "I called my father, asking him to look into Caleb."
"--Caleb?" Shelby echoes curiously. Half a second later, her eyebrows go up. "You think Gavin is calling himself Caleb now? Was your father able to give you any information?"
"I know that he is." Zosia drums her finger. "But Caleb is Caleb now. He did the Rite of Renunciation and the rite that breaks you with your past. It isn't an especially strong one and it is, frankly, rather rude to call someone by their old name once they've done the rite."
The younger girl thinks for a moment, coming around to perch on the edge of one cushion. "So... Grant is looking for Caleb. Do we know why?"
"I think I'm managing to piece it together. Caleb says that his Fostern challenge went all wrong and he ended up being pushed into the rite. Supposedly he was supposed to root out corruption in one of the families--Grant's to be exact--of his Sept and eliminate the family or some bullshit." Zosia scowls at the arm of her chair, shaking her head slightly. "More the fool he. This is the sort of thing you bring a philodox in for."
"That seems like a weird challenge for a Ragabash," Shelby agrees, looking dubious. "So we've got two stories. Caleb says Grant--or his family--is corrupted somehow. And Grant... well, all I know is that Grant is looking for Caleb. Are we going to help either of them?"
"Grant is on a revenge mission. You saw how he was reacting and speaking. And I'll be damned if I help someone with a vendetta if it isn't even appropriate." Zosia exhales. "Course, I'm no philodox. I've no idea how much truth or untruth there is to Caleb's words."
"He's paranoid." Shelby shakes her head and purses her lips again at nothing. "Well, we could get a philodox in, but that seems... I don't know. This is tribal business. I don't know that I'd feel right, going outside the tribe for something like this."
"It really is Sept business," Zosia grumbles, still scowling. "He tries to tar and smear the whole tribe because of this but corruption happens in every tribe. And coverups happen in many tribes and in many Septs. He's supposed to tell his story at moot as part of his 'find a new tribe and get settled in' chiminage but I'll be damned if he portrays this as a Silver Fang problem. It is a Garou Nation problem."
"--'He' being Caleb, not Grant?" Shelby guesses, and frowns a bit deeper. "Well, if we tell Grant about Caleb, assuming Caleb's story is correct, then we're helping with corruption. No thank you. But if we run Grant off, and he finds out about Caleb later, there's bound to be repercussions from that, too. I'd almost say run the pair of them off, and let them figure it out."
"Well, what if Caleb was being put up by someone else who was also corrupted? There's ways to hide taint, lots of ways depending on your talens or fetishes. Possibly even some Dancer rituals--it wouldn't surprise me. I don't think this is open and shut, I won't be a party to a revenge scheme and I'll be damned that some ronin stupid enough to not insist that Judges be called in--after all, there's people like my father that could have kept it in tribe at least--be allowed to smear our tribe." But how does Zosia really feel?
Shelby shakes her head unhappily. "Too many options. I don't have the experience to deal with them all, yet. But if he--Caleb--does try and claim the tribe is corrupted at Moot, I'll Challenge him myself."
"That's the crap he was spewing to my face, in front of August." Zosia radiates a palpable feeling of Rage at that, not speaking until she gets herself back under control. "He's a fool, many people are when faced with corruption. And there are lots of problems with our Tribe. But."
"He's lucky you didn't tear our his throat right there," the dark-haired girl says stoutly. "He's really not doing himself any favors." After a moment she adds, "He'd be better off doing something about it rather than running around and whining at people. That doesn't reflect well on him."
"Which was my point. Kaz says he has three months to get into another tribe and be accepted by the totem. Other tribes won't take whiners," Zosia decides. She pauses. "Well, Rat and Cockroach are but they are rather practical sorts. And Unicorn would."
Shelby might be running down the list of tribe in her head, if the faint snort and, "Grandfather Thunder would laugh at him," is any indication. "--What do you know about Salem-rhya, Zosia? I've heard he's renounced both tribe and his birth auspice. Is that true?"
"Yes. Salem..." Zosia's lip curls. "He's done a lot of good but he's had some monumental fuck ups in his past." She doesn't think much of him, that's for sure.
Shelby says, "Well, he'd have to, wouldn't he?" with a gesture of one hand. "All the same, I hope he passes his Fostern challenge. I hope they all pass their Fostern challenge, except that Shadow Lord."
"Who are the others? Nik," Zosia's lip curls, "and Salem. That's it. KL challenged for Adren. I really hope she passes."
"Really?" Shelby pauses for a moment. "Those are the only two outstanding challenges? I thought there were more, somehow. Well in that case, I hope Salem and KL pass theirs." She nods punctuation. "--Grant isn't going to be allowed to the next Moot, is he? That could get seriously awkward."
"I don't know how I feel about Salem's," Zosia mutters. "We need more fostern judges but..." Her voice trails off and she shakes her head. "Grant is a problem. They both are. It is a problem for the Sept. I should talk it over with August." She looks torn, pressing her lips together. "He won't blab about it and he is Warder."
"You know him better than I," Shelby offers mildly, before looking momentarily displeased. "I'd offer to find him for you, except," she taps one temple meaningfully. "Is there anything you do need me to do, with this? Lead Grant on a wild goose chase? Tell Caleb to keep his head down?"
"I've talked to Caleb and warned him that Grant was in town--he looked ready to run right then. But keep an eye out for Grant. He is not welcome at the Sept but that doesn't mean that he isn't going to try to avoid snooping about." Zosia sighs.
"I probably would, if I were in his position," Shelby acknowledges. "Both of their positions, actually. All right. If I see Grant, I'll do what I can to keep him looking elsewhere."
The other no-moon lifts one eyebrow. "Men," she says lightly. "Can't live with them, can't keep them from spattering Tribal politics all over uninvolved Septs."
"If only women weren't as stupid." Zosia smiles weakly before pointing out, "After all, these same problems crop up in Fury Septs too."
Shelby says, "I wouldn't know, never having been to a Fury Sept. Still, point taken." A sigh and a shake of her head, and she smoothes invisible wrinkles from her pants. "Can I ask you something else, or do you have something else to do, just now?"
Speaks more to the state of the nation and the world, rather than specific tribes," Zosia says. "And sure, what's up?"
"Meg," Shelby answers promptly. "What do you know about her, besides the obvious? I've only met her a couple of times, and she was... well. Different enough that I'd like a second opinion."
"Meg's tough. She's stubborn and from me? That's saying a lot. She's self-rightous, doesn't have the common sense of a snail in the umbra, and bound and determined to make herself a martyr. That said," Zosia continues, "she knows her stuff spiritually."
"But do you like her," Shelby presses.
"Sometimes. Sometimes she is a judgmental, self-righteous bitch." And that is Zosia saying it.
Shelby's eyebrow might be thinking the same thing, but what the Ragabash says is merely, "Um." A nod and she adds, "Thank you. Has she been in a pack here? It would be interesting to hear what they've got to say about her too."
"She hasn't been in a pack. She's very standoffish. I can think of a few people she might do well in a pack with--I am not one of them--but they'd have to work on her. She'd not reach out." Zosia eyes Shelby thoughtfully. "Why?"
"Because," Shelby repeats, "I've only met her a couple of times, but she was markedly different both times. I liked talking to her most recently, but if that was the aberration I'll know not to seek her out."
"She doesn't like cubs. Did you meet her when you were a cub and then at the park?" Zosia hazards.
Shelby starts to echo, "Doesn't like...?" as if cubs were made of ice cream, but after another bemused second nods. "Yes, essentially. Why doesn't she like cubs?"
"I don't know. She won't explain. SHe always clams up when you challenge her on one of her things she doesn't like." Zosia waves a hand. "She's all right but very high strung and yes," she adds, her voice dry, "I realize this is extra hilarious coming from me but I'm more making a point. I am saying this."
"The mote in your eye doesn't stop you from noticing the plank in others'," Shelby shrugs, though she's also repressing a smile as she says it. "Well, there are very few people I dislike enough to avoid them forever, and Meg isn't one of them. Maybe I'll ask her what she thinks of packs, and see what her reaction is."
"Wear a helmet." Zosia's voice is dry. "And don't be surprised if she makes excuses and runs away."
Shelby's mouth quirks. "It's not like a totem is going to sneak up on her and suck her into a pack," she retorts, equally dry but obviously amused. "Although that would be pretty funny to watch. A vacuum spirit, perhaps. Or a tornado - though I don't know that Tornado would suit her."
"She had an obligation to Tree that just finished up. So that's possibly the opposite," Zosia says with a laugh.
Shelby makes a check on an invisible notepad. "Not Tornado. Right." A half-smile to herself and she looks back to Zosia. "Let me know when you want to go back to the zoo. That coat thing... I have no idea what sort of spirit it is, but it probably needs to go, right? Because that can't be doing any good."
"I'm waiting to go in to talk to the Rat spirits again. Been doing the chiminage and recruiting some help." Zosia mulls it over. "Jacey's planting bits of nesting material and bits of food around the park. Its easy for her, if she gets caught, to just claim she's snooping around while at the skate park."
"Why would she even get caught?" the Ragabash asks. "As long as she's not going into restricted areas, the park is open to the public. I'd think she'd be more likely to get into trouble for not being at school, but that's fairly easily explained away by home-schooling."
"After hours the security sweeps for couples canoodling in the bushes." And there is an oddly smug look on Zosia's face as she says that.
Shelby, having been around Zosia and Tristan for half a year now, doesn't so much as remark upon that look. Instead she just shakes her head. "No reason for her to go after dark, unless she wants to. Well," the Ragabash shrugs delicately, "she's a cliath; she can do whatever she likes. If she wants any help she knows to ask."
"There's every reason for her to go in after dark," Zosia says with a roll of her eyes. "Since I told her to so that the food and fluf she hides around the place isn't immediately swept up by cleaning crews."
The Ragabash looks over at Zosia for a moment before saying, "All right," mildly and glancing away.
Zosia doesn't feel a need to explain herself and moves on in the conversation. "We will need more help, down the road, once I hear from the Rats."
"Just let me know," Shelby repeats. "Is it only the rat spirits around the park who need chiminage? Because I could do some myself, farther into the city where it isn't as easy for Jacey to reach."
"Rats in the realm. That's what makes it tricky. Leaving out food for them invites the wrath of the health department. You have no idea the shouting match I got into with Tristan about that." Zosia shakes her head. "Outside the Denny's? In the alley?"
"Or farther away from the park," Shelby agrees. "Probably not at the Denny's, because they'll have the health department down on them. But perhaps other places in the alley, or a block or two away, or wherever."
"I am thinking about getting a little hole drilled in the back of the dumpster or something there. I don't know, still pondering it." Zosia shakes her head.
Shelby says, "All right," again. "I can look into it, if you like."
"The more ideas the better. Spirits don't understand things like Health Departments and Police. They just want results." Zosia wrinkles her nose.
The other Fang nods, thoughtful. "All right. I've got some ideas. I've got to do some research, though, to see if they're even feasible. But I'll start in on Project Rat Chiminage too."
"Won't hurt to cultivate these spirits since this area is likely a long term project." Zosia pauses and adds, "The old hospital isn't far from there too. Which is something altogether different."
"Do you think that's where the coat came from?" Shelby asks, before pausing herself. "Or maybe a better question is: what do you think that coat thing is?"
"Emotional residue from all the drug dealers and users used to be there. Despair, hopelessness, something along those lines." Zosia grimaces. "Emotions are powerful, powerful enough to make an impression."
Shelby wrinkles her nose. "But a coat?" She shakes her head again a moment later. "I know, I know, the spirit's outward appearance isn't necessarily a one to one correspondence. But do you agree with me, that the coat needs to go? It can't be making the umbra there healthy, can it?"
"Lord yes. Drained our will, took a helluva lot of concentration to get the thing to follow my commands." The theurge makes a face, pushing up from her chair move about restlessly.
"So...." Shelby stays seated, only watching Zosia move. "If we can get it from a distance, that should negate most of the problem. The only catch there is, I don't know who might have Dedicated distance weapons, or what would be effective against it."
"Or if that's even the best solution, to just try to kill it." Zosia starts to rearrange a few framed pictures--herself and the baby, herself and Tristan, Shelby and the baby, her pack, and so on--before turning back.
"That's why I'm not the Theurge," the Ragabash says brightly, with an equally bright smile over at Zosia.
"I don't know the city very well. I need to talk to Mouse," Zosia mutters, her hands clapping together softly.
Shelby says, "She never called me back," with another faint frown. "Though I suppose she has no reason to. I told Kevin-rhya everything I know, and she could easily have learned it from him."
"She's standoffish at the best of times. My aupice. We're not especially people persons." Zosia smiles tightly.
Shelby flicks a hand dismissively. "/That's a generalization if I ever heard one." She purses her lips and, after a moment, shakes her head. "Oh well. I've provided the information. That's all I can do. If you would, please, mention she can speak to me if she has other questions? Though I suppose my news is stale, and getting more so every day."
"I've yet to meet a theurge who didn't prefer the umbra to the realm," Zosia says with a laugh. "I'm sure they exist but. And I'll pass it if I can manage to catch her."
"Preferring the umbra to the realm doesn't have anything to do with liking people or not," the ragabash claims. Another moment, though, and she studies her knees. "Thank you. I think I'm going to go do some scouting. I'll find my own dinner tonight, too."
"I'll probably head home for a late dinner with Tristan before scouting the bawn umbra tonight. Must chitchat with some of the spirits, after all." Zosia smiles at her, absently.
"Say hello to him for me," Shelby says as she stands. "I'll catch you later, Zosia-rhya. Falcon watch."
"I will! Take care, Shelby." Zosia turns back to the photos, starting to rearrange them on their shelves.
Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (75% full).
Country House
Shelby comes down the steps from the second floor, a certain warm humidity in the air the only outward sign of a recent shower. The Ragabash is neatly dressed, her hair tidily coiffed, and makeup securely on. The mail drop beside the front door seems to be her goal - either that, or she's heading outside, and to her car.
A key works in the lock and the door swings open. The owner of the house steps inside, glancing into the house as she does. "Hi, Shelby," she says in an absent sort of voice, swinging an overnight dufflebag off her shoulder.
"Oh," says Shelby, and, "Good afternoon, Zosia," in the very next breath, waiting until the door's closed before she appends, "-rhya. --Have you eaten?" She picks up the mail and glances through it, lips pursing at the scant handful of envelopes.
"Yeah, had something a bit ago," Zosia says, eyeing the envelopes before storing the bag by the door. "Anything important?" It is debateable if she means in general or in the mail.
"Midas thinks it's almost time for you to change your oil," the Ragabash reports before handing the entire lot, unopened, to the federally-appointed recipient. "What's going on with that new Fostern, by the way? Mr. Hudson?"
"He isn't staying," Zosia says flatly, taking the envelopes and heading into the living room. Seating herself in her chair, she starts to look through each one. "Bills, bills, bills. How boring. I'll send it to the accountant." That decided, she looks toward the Ragabash. "He's looking for someone. Have you talked to him?"
Shelby follows after, lingering behind the sofa with one hand trailing artfully along its back. "Who, Grant-rhya? No, not after Thursday. Or do you mean the person he's looking for? Gavin... Holiday? Halloway? Interesting coincidence, that they're both G-H names. Grant Hudson, Gavin H-something-or-other."
"Rather," Zosia agrees, leaning her head back and staring at the ceiling. "Quite a few remarkable coincidences, I think."
Shelby looks politely expectant for a second or two before the delicate prompt: "Oh? You were giving me quite a few meaningful looks the other night. I hope I interpreted them properly."
"You did! I wanted you to keep your mouth shut and not give out too much information which, admittedly, seems a rather obvious turn." Zosia draws a pattern on the arm of the chair with a finger. "I called my father, asking him to look into Caleb."
"--Caleb?" Shelby echoes curiously. Half a second later, her eyebrows go up. "You think Gavin is calling himself Caleb now? Was your father able to give you any information?"
"I know that he is." Zosia drums her finger. "But Caleb is Caleb now. He did the Rite of Renunciation and the rite that breaks you with your past. It isn't an especially strong one and it is, frankly, rather rude to call someone by their old name once they've done the rite."
The younger girl thinks for a moment, coming around to perch on the edge of one cushion. "So... Grant is looking for Caleb. Do we know why?"
"I think I'm managing to piece it together. Caleb says that his Fostern challenge went all wrong and he ended up being pushed into the rite. Supposedly he was supposed to root out corruption in one of the families--Grant's to be exact--of his Sept and eliminate the family or some bullshit." Zosia scowls at the arm of her chair, shaking her head slightly. "More the fool he. This is the sort of thing you bring a philodox in for."
"That seems like a weird challenge for a Ragabash," Shelby agrees, looking dubious. "So we've got two stories. Caleb says Grant--or his family--is corrupted somehow. And Grant... well, all I know is that Grant is looking for Caleb. Are we going to help either of them?"
"Grant is on a revenge mission. You saw how he was reacting and speaking. And I'll be damned if I help someone with a vendetta if it isn't even appropriate." Zosia exhales. "Course, I'm no philodox. I've no idea how much truth or untruth there is to Caleb's words."
"He's paranoid." Shelby shakes her head and purses her lips again at nothing. "Well, we could get a philodox in, but that seems... I don't know. This is tribal business. I don't know that I'd feel right, going outside the tribe for something like this."
"It really is Sept business," Zosia grumbles, still scowling. "He tries to tar and smear the whole tribe because of this but corruption happens in every tribe. And coverups happen in many tribes and in many Septs. He's supposed to tell his story at moot as part of his 'find a new tribe and get settled in' chiminage but I'll be damned if he portrays this as a Silver Fang problem. It is a Garou Nation problem."
"--'He' being Caleb, not Grant?" Shelby guesses, and frowns a bit deeper. "Well, if we tell Grant about Caleb, assuming Caleb's story is correct, then we're helping with corruption. No thank you. But if we run Grant off, and he finds out about Caleb later, there's bound to be repercussions from that, too. I'd almost say run the pair of them off, and let them figure it out."
"Well, what if Caleb was being put up by someone else who was also corrupted? There's ways to hide taint, lots of ways depending on your talens or fetishes. Possibly even some Dancer rituals--it wouldn't surprise me. I don't think this is open and shut, I won't be a party to a revenge scheme and I'll be damned that some ronin stupid enough to not insist that Judges be called in--after all, there's people like my father that could have kept it in tribe at least--be allowed to smear our tribe." But how does Zosia really feel?
Shelby shakes her head unhappily. "Too many options. I don't have the experience to deal with them all, yet. But if he--Caleb--does try and claim the tribe is corrupted at Moot, I'll Challenge him myself."
"That's the crap he was spewing to my face, in front of August." Zosia radiates a palpable feeling of Rage at that, not speaking until she gets herself back under control. "He's a fool, many people are when faced with corruption. And there are lots of problems with our Tribe. But."
"He's lucky you didn't tear our his throat right there," the dark-haired girl says stoutly. "He's really not doing himself any favors." After a moment she adds, "He'd be better off doing something about it rather than running around and whining at people. That doesn't reflect well on him."
"Which was my point. Kaz says he has three months to get into another tribe and be accepted by the totem. Other tribes won't take whiners," Zosia decides. She pauses. "Well, Rat and Cockroach are but they are rather practical sorts. And Unicorn would."
Shelby might be running down the list of tribe in her head, if the faint snort and, "Grandfather Thunder would laugh at him," is any indication. "--What do you know about Salem-rhya, Zosia? I've heard he's renounced both tribe and his birth auspice. Is that true?"
"Yes. Salem..." Zosia's lip curls. "He's done a lot of good but he's had some monumental fuck ups in his past." She doesn't think much of him, that's for sure.
Shelby says, "Well, he'd have to, wouldn't he?" with a gesture of one hand. "All the same, I hope he passes his Fostern challenge. I hope they all pass their Fostern challenge, except that Shadow Lord."
"Who are the others? Nik," Zosia's lip curls, "and Salem. That's it. KL challenged for Adren. I really hope she passes."
"Really?" Shelby pauses for a moment. "Those are the only two outstanding challenges? I thought there were more, somehow. Well in that case, I hope Salem and KL pass theirs." She nods punctuation. "--Grant isn't going to be allowed to the next Moot, is he? That could get seriously awkward."
"I don't know how I feel about Salem's," Zosia mutters. "We need more fostern judges but..." Her voice trails off and she shakes her head. "Grant is a problem. They both are. It is a problem for the Sept. I should talk it over with August." She looks torn, pressing her lips together. "He won't blab about it and he is Warder."
"You know him better than I," Shelby offers mildly, before looking momentarily displeased. "I'd offer to find him for you, except," she taps one temple meaningfully. "Is there anything you do need me to do, with this? Lead Grant on a wild goose chase? Tell Caleb to keep his head down?"
"I've talked to Caleb and warned him that Grant was in town--he looked ready to run right then. But keep an eye out for Grant. He is not welcome at the Sept but that doesn't mean that he isn't going to try to avoid snooping about." Zosia sighs.
"I probably would, if I were in his position," Shelby acknowledges. "Both of their positions, actually. All right. If I see Grant, I'll do what I can to keep him looking elsewhere."
The other no-moon lifts one eyebrow. "Men," she says lightly. "Can't live with them, can't keep them from spattering Tribal politics all over uninvolved Septs."
"If only women weren't as stupid." Zosia smiles weakly before pointing out, "After all, these same problems crop up in Fury Septs too."
Shelby says, "I wouldn't know, never having been to a Fury Sept. Still, point taken." A sigh and a shake of her head, and she smoothes invisible wrinkles from her pants. "Can I ask you something else, or do you have something else to do, just now?"
Speaks more to the state of the nation and the world, rather than specific tribes," Zosia says. "And sure, what's up?"
"Meg," Shelby answers promptly. "What do you know about her, besides the obvious? I've only met her a couple of times, and she was... well. Different enough that I'd like a second opinion."
"Meg's tough. She's stubborn and from me? That's saying a lot. She's self-rightous, doesn't have the common sense of a snail in the umbra, and bound and determined to make herself a martyr. That said," Zosia continues, "she knows her stuff spiritually."
"But do you like her," Shelby presses.
"Sometimes. Sometimes she is a judgmental, self-righteous bitch." And that is Zosia saying it.
Shelby's eyebrow might be thinking the same thing, but what the Ragabash says is merely, "Um." A nod and she adds, "Thank you. Has she been in a pack here? It would be interesting to hear what they've got to say about her too."
"She hasn't been in a pack. She's very standoffish. I can think of a few people she might do well in a pack with--I am not one of them--but they'd have to work on her. She'd not reach out." Zosia eyes Shelby thoughtfully. "Why?"
"Because," Shelby repeats, "I've only met her a couple of times, but she was markedly different both times. I liked talking to her most recently, but if that was the aberration I'll know not to seek her out."
"She doesn't like cubs. Did you meet her when you were a cub and then at the park?" Zosia hazards.
Shelby starts to echo, "Doesn't like...?" as if cubs were made of ice cream, but after another bemused second nods. "Yes, essentially. Why doesn't she like cubs?"
"I don't know. She won't explain. SHe always clams up when you challenge her on one of her things she doesn't like." Zosia waves a hand. "She's all right but very high strung and yes," she adds, her voice dry, "I realize this is extra hilarious coming from me but I'm more making a point. I am saying this."
"The mote in your eye doesn't stop you from noticing the plank in others'," Shelby shrugs, though she's also repressing a smile as she says it. "Well, there are very few people I dislike enough to avoid them forever, and Meg isn't one of them. Maybe I'll ask her what she thinks of packs, and see what her reaction is."
"Wear a helmet." Zosia's voice is dry. "And don't be surprised if she makes excuses and runs away."
Shelby's mouth quirks. "It's not like a totem is going to sneak up on her and suck her into a pack," she retorts, equally dry but obviously amused. "Although that would be pretty funny to watch. A vacuum spirit, perhaps. Or a tornado - though I don't know that Tornado would suit her."
"She had an obligation to Tree that just finished up. So that's possibly the opposite," Zosia says with a laugh.
Shelby makes a check on an invisible notepad. "Not Tornado. Right." A half-smile to herself and she looks back to Zosia. "Let me know when you want to go back to the zoo. That coat thing... I have no idea what sort of spirit it is, but it probably needs to go, right? Because that can't be doing any good."
"I'm waiting to go in to talk to the Rat spirits again. Been doing the chiminage and recruiting some help." Zosia mulls it over. "Jacey's planting bits of nesting material and bits of food around the park. Its easy for her, if she gets caught, to just claim she's snooping around while at the skate park."
"Why would she even get caught?" the Ragabash asks. "As long as she's not going into restricted areas, the park is open to the public. I'd think she'd be more likely to get into trouble for not being at school, but that's fairly easily explained away by home-schooling."
"After hours the security sweeps for couples canoodling in the bushes." And there is an oddly smug look on Zosia's face as she says that.
Shelby, having been around Zosia and Tristan for half a year now, doesn't so much as remark upon that look. Instead she just shakes her head. "No reason for her to go after dark, unless she wants to. Well," the Ragabash shrugs delicately, "she's a cliath; she can do whatever she likes. If she wants any help she knows to ask."
"There's every reason for her to go in after dark," Zosia says with a roll of her eyes. "Since I told her to so that the food and fluf she hides around the place isn't immediately swept up by cleaning crews."
The Ragabash looks over at Zosia for a moment before saying, "All right," mildly and glancing away.
Zosia doesn't feel a need to explain herself and moves on in the conversation. "We will need more help, down the road, once I hear from the Rats."
"Just let me know," Shelby repeats. "Is it only the rat spirits around the park who need chiminage? Because I could do some myself, farther into the city where it isn't as easy for Jacey to reach."
"Rats in the realm. That's what makes it tricky. Leaving out food for them invites the wrath of the health department. You have no idea the shouting match I got into with Tristan about that." Zosia shakes her head. "Outside the Denny's? In the alley?"
"Or farther away from the park," Shelby agrees. "Probably not at the Denny's, because they'll have the health department down on them. But perhaps other places in the alley, or a block or two away, or wherever."
"I am thinking about getting a little hole drilled in the back of the dumpster or something there. I don't know, still pondering it." Zosia shakes her head.
Shelby says, "All right," again. "I can look into it, if you like."
"The more ideas the better. Spirits don't understand things like Health Departments and Police. They just want results." Zosia wrinkles her nose.
The other Fang nods, thoughtful. "All right. I've got some ideas. I've got to do some research, though, to see if they're even feasible. But I'll start in on Project Rat Chiminage too."
"Won't hurt to cultivate these spirits since this area is likely a long term project." Zosia pauses and adds, "The old hospital isn't far from there too. Which is something altogether different."
"Do you think that's where the coat came from?" Shelby asks, before pausing herself. "Or maybe a better question is: what do you think that coat thing is?"
"Emotional residue from all the drug dealers and users used to be there. Despair, hopelessness, something along those lines." Zosia grimaces. "Emotions are powerful, powerful enough to make an impression."
Shelby wrinkles her nose. "But a coat?" She shakes her head again a moment later. "I know, I know, the spirit's outward appearance isn't necessarily a one to one correspondence. But do you agree with me, that the coat needs to go? It can't be making the umbra there healthy, can it?"
"Lord yes. Drained our will, took a helluva lot of concentration to get the thing to follow my commands." The theurge makes a face, pushing up from her chair move about restlessly.
"So...." Shelby stays seated, only watching Zosia move. "If we can get it from a distance, that should negate most of the problem. The only catch there is, I don't know who might have Dedicated distance weapons, or what would be effective against it."
"Or if that's even the best solution, to just try to kill it." Zosia starts to rearrange a few framed pictures--herself and the baby, herself and Tristan, Shelby and the baby, her pack, and so on--before turning back.
"That's why I'm not the Theurge," the Ragabash says brightly, with an equally bright smile over at Zosia.
"I don't know the city very well. I need to talk to Mouse," Zosia mutters, her hands clapping together softly.
Shelby says, "She never called me back," with another faint frown. "Though I suppose she has no reason to. I told Kevin-rhya everything I know, and she could easily have learned it from him."
"She's standoffish at the best of times. My aupice. We're not especially people persons." Zosia smiles tightly.
Shelby flicks a hand dismissively. "/That's a generalization if I ever heard one." She purses her lips and, after a moment, shakes her head. "Oh well. I've provided the information. That's all I can do. If you would, please, mention she can speak to me if she has other questions? Though I suppose my news is stale, and getting more so every day."
"I've yet to meet a theurge who didn't prefer the umbra to the realm," Zosia says with a laugh. "I'm sure they exist but. And I'll pass it if I can manage to catch her."
"Preferring the umbra to the realm doesn't have anything to do with liking people or not," the ragabash claims. Another moment, though, and she studies her knees. "Thank you. I think I'm going to go do some scouting. I'll find my own dinner tonight, too."
"I'll probably head home for a late dinner with Tristan before scouting the bawn umbra tonight. Must chitchat with some of the spirits, after all." Zosia smiles at her, absently.
"Say hello to him for me," Shelby says as she stands. "I'll catch you later, Zosia-rhya. Falcon watch."
"I will! Take care, Shelby." Zosia turns back to the photos, starting to rearrange them on their shelves.