Shelby and the action center
Mar. 5th, 2011 05:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shelbyrouIt is currently 14:39 Pacific Time on Sat Mar 5 2011.
Currently the moon is in the waxing New (Ragabash) Moon phase (6% full).
Tenement Building - Ground Floor
The ground floor of the apartment building is taken up mainly by the lobby, an open space with the front doors at one end and the elevator and the door leading to the stairwell at the other. The floor is covered in black and white tile in a checkerboard pattern, and the walls have been painted a neutral grey shade. Some attempt has been made to make this place more hospitable, as an old, sagging couch, an equally old and sagging armchair, and two wooden chairs have been set up in a rough semi-circle around a somewhat splintery old coffee table, facing toward the front doors and positioned so as not to interfere with any traffic moving between there and the stairs.
To the right of the main doors are mailboxes for building residents, and off to the left is the doorway into a cramped rental office (see +view), and other doors that lead to the building's large laundry room.
Obvious exits:
Stairs Salem's Apartment Out
Emerging from an older BMW parked down the block from the tenement, Shelby - slightly overdressed for the neighborhood and looking like an upscale realtor - heads for the front door. Casting an incurious eye at the cars out front, she hits the intercom button and waits to be admitted.
On door-duty, Jack answers the door a few moments later, grumbling as he has to drag himself up and limp over to the door. He's got a lit cigarette, and looks even more grumpy than usual, if that's possible. "'sup?"
Not nearly as chipper as she was in the dream, Shelby nevertheless tips a smile that's warmer than merely polite up to the Philodox. "I was looking for you, actually. I thought I was going to have to ask further directions." Her accent still places her squarely from Not Around Here, though it's beginning to soften. "May I come in?"
Jack's wearing a dark Van Halen t-shirt, but it's so faded that the band name can barely be made out. "Yea, c'mon in." He lets her in, locking the door again behind her. The Walker isn't very ceremonious about the whole thing, and heads back toward the couch to reclaim his seat. "So I'm guessin', by th'fact that you're here, that th'dream shit wasn't 'just' a dream then, eh." Wry, that.
"I don't think so," the Fang answers, glancing about the ground floor but following Jack toward the couch. "At least, this is the second shared dream I've had with Zosia, and the third in that... place. Wherever it was. She's with Tristan, so I thought I'd come here, instead." She adds, after a self-deprecating nose-wrinkle, "I've seen you at Moot, but I don't think we've been formally introduced. I'm Shelby Zaleski-Leveque, called Falcon's Gambit Accepted, cliath Ragabash of the Silver Fangs, and great-great-granddaughter of the Adren Galliard Winter's Snow on Summer's Branches."
"Yea? I ain't too up on umbral shit, but sounds like somethin' is goin' on." And at the introduction, he nods. "Cool. Jack. Fallout. Fostern philodox've the Glass Walkers." It's rather truncated compared to hers, but that may be expected. "You talk t'any theurges about it?"
"Pleased to meet you, Jack-rhya," Shelby says, even sounding sincere about it. A tip of her chin and she settles into a chair facing the older garou. "Only Zosia, so far. This was the first time I've seen other tribes there. I wasn't sure if it was something only for us, or just me, or...." Trailing off, she shrugs. So much for those theories. "The last two times, there were spirits to be spoken to, who wished us to do things. This time there wasn't anything like that."
"In my experience," the fostern says, taking a long drag off the cigarette, "Usually th'dreams mean somethin'. Comin' from some spirits. With th' caern bein' under Chimera--" He trails off with a shrug, as though that should explain enough. "What sort've things they ask y't'do before?"
Shelby says with an unhappy fidget of her shoulders, "I'm no theurge, but that sounds reasonable. Until recently, all of the spirits I've encountered have been in the Umbra. I really have little to no experience with dreams, Chimera or not." A moment later she adds, "Well, the turtle wanted us to find a rock, only it wasn't actually a rock. And the bear... I think the bear was testing my stubbornness. It roared at me, and when I didn't move it seemed happy." A little circle of one hand suggests that the encounter wasn't as simple as that.
"Or," Jack says, musing. "Your lack've fear of it." He shrugs a shoulder, though. "I ain't a theurge." Obviously. "When y'say not a rock, what was it?"
"Maybe," the girl acknowledges. Then, with an exasperated little shrug, "I don't know. Neither one of us does. The turtle... it was asking questions, but they didn't really have answers, and then it sent us off to find a rock except it wasn't really looking for a rock."
"A'ight, so, what was it lookin' for?" A pause, and then he adds wryly, "Not that it probably makes much difference as t'what it'd mean t'me, but."
"We don't know," Shelby repeats. "Trust me, Jack-rhya, I've tried to figure it out, but I have no idea what the turtle actually wanted."
"Ah, sorry, misunderstood." Jack takes another drag off the cigarette, blowing out the smoke thoughtfully, and then quirks a brow upward. "This 'un had th'phoenix thing at th'end. That was probably Important."
Shelby clears her throat moments after he exhales, and straightens up. "Probably, yes. I think it's interesting that the eagle disappeared - unless it never was an eagle, and was a phoenix all along. I also wonder what would have happened if we'd gone the easy - well, easier - route. We all were feeling pretty good until we decided to go that way, I thought."
"Could've been. Ain't no way t'be sure now, I guess." There's a pause, and he mulls it over. "Dunno. Figure things happen for a reason one way or th'other."
"Maybe," the girl acknowledges. "Hard to tell, in dreams. Unless you're a theurge, I suppose. But even Zosia said there wasn't necessarily one right way to go."
"Yea." There's a pause as he thinks something over, and then glances to her with a brow raised. "So you've had this happen a few times, yea? There anythin' that triggers it or does it just happen?"
She nods: a few times, yes. "That's a good question. I don't think there was anything to trigger it, but I haven't really thought about it. I mean, other than me being asleep, of course," she adds with a flash of a quick smile. "I can try to remember if I ate spicy food or something, but even for three weeks ago my memory's going to be pretty spotty."
Jack gives her a bit of a wry look. "I was just watchin' TV, and found myself in th'land of Narnia or wherever th'fuck it was." He sounds a little amused, though as always it's hard to tell. "Yea, especially if you ain't sure when it's gonna happen."
Shelby says, "I was out on the bawn, sleeping. In lupus." As though that might make a difference. "If you were going to be thorough about it, you'd keep a dream diary with everything you ate and did every day, but I'm pretty sure Zosia'd think that's crap. I think it's more... more spirit-based, instead of something we did. After all, there were four of us, and the two of us," she gestures from Walker to Fang, "were doing entirely different things. Probably all day."
"Yea, probably. And y'got city and woods garou, so who knows." Jack rubs at some of the stubble on his jaw, and considers. "A'ight, well. I'll talk t'Mouse, maybe get a second opinion. Direct her your way."
"Exactly," she agrees, and pulls a cell from her purse. "Let me give you my number. I'm not a Guardian like Zosia, so I'm available for city things too."
"A'ight, cool," Jack replies with a nod. "I'll give y'mine, too. Hell, y'never know, shit might be happenin' to other people, too. If it's happenin' to us, we probably ain't th'only ones."
"Good point," says Shelby, once numbers are exchanged and her phone safely returned to her purse. "We should mention it at moot. I should get going," she adds, standing. "It was nice meeting you - in the flesh and officially, this time." The girl's smile returns, another quick flash of teeth and dimples. "If you don't mind, I'll see myself out."
"Yea, no prob. See y'around." Jack gives her a bit of a lazy salute as farewell, and seems to have no objections to her letting herself out. The less he has to get up, the better.
Currently the moon is in the waxing New (Ragabash) Moon phase (6% full).
Tenement Building - Ground Floor
The ground floor of the apartment building is taken up mainly by the lobby, an open space with the front doors at one end and the elevator and the door leading to the stairwell at the other. The floor is covered in black and white tile in a checkerboard pattern, and the walls have been painted a neutral grey shade. Some attempt has been made to make this place more hospitable, as an old, sagging couch, an equally old and sagging armchair, and two wooden chairs have been set up in a rough semi-circle around a somewhat splintery old coffee table, facing toward the front doors and positioned so as not to interfere with any traffic moving between there and the stairs.
To the right of the main doors are mailboxes for building residents, and off to the left is the doorway into a cramped rental office (see +view), and other doors that lead to the building's large laundry room.
Obvious exits:
Stairs Salem's Apartment Out
Emerging from an older BMW parked down the block from the tenement, Shelby - slightly overdressed for the neighborhood and looking like an upscale realtor - heads for the front door. Casting an incurious eye at the cars out front, she hits the intercom button and waits to be admitted.
On door-duty, Jack answers the door a few moments later, grumbling as he has to drag himself up and limp over to the door. He's got a lit cigarette, and looks even more grumpy than usual, if that's possible. "'sup?"
Not nearly as chipper as she was in the dream, Shelby nevertheless tips a smile that's warmer than merely polite up to the Philodox. "I was looking for you, actually. I thought I was going to have to ask further directions." Her accent still places her squarely from Not Around Here, though it's beginning to soften. "May I come in?"
Jack's wearing a dark Van Halen t-shirt, but it's so faded that the band name can barely be made out. "Yea, c'mon in." He lets her in, locking the door again behind her. The Walker isn't very ceremonious about the whole thing, and heads back toward the couch to reclaim his seat. "So I'm guessin', by th'fact that you're here, that th'dream shit wasn't 'just' a dream then, eh." Wry, that.
"I don't think so," the Fang answers, glancing about the ground floor but following Jack toward the couch. "At least, this is the second shared dream I've had with Zosia, and the third in that... place. Wherever it was. She's with Tristan, so I thought I'd come here, instead." She adds, after a self-deprecating nose-wrinkle, "I've seen you at Moot, but I don't think we've been formally introduced. I'm Shelby Zaleski-Leveque, called Falcon's Gambit Accepted, cliath Ragabash of the Silver Fangs, and great-great-granddaughter of the Adren Galliard Winter's Snow on Summer's Branches."
"Yea? I ain't too up on umbral shit, but sounds like somethin' is goin' on." And at the introduction, he nods. "Cool. Jack. Fallout. Fostern philodox've the Glass Walkers." It's rather truncated compared to hers, but that may be expected. "You talk t'any theurges about it?"
"Pleased to meet you, Jack-rhya," Shelby says, even sounding sincere about it. A tip of her chin and she settles into a chair facing the older garou. "Only Zosia, so far. This was the first time I've seen other tribes there. I wasn't sure if it was something only for us, or just me, or...." Trailing off, she shrugs. So much for those theories. "The last two times, there were spirits to be spoken to, who wished us to do things. This time there wasn't anything like that."
"In my experience," the fostern says, taking a long drag off the cigarette, "Usually th'dreams mean somethin'. Comin' from some spirits. With th' caern bein' under Chimera--" He trails off with a shrug, as though that should explain enough. "What sort've things they ask y't'do before?"
Shelby says with an unhappy fidget of her shoulders, "I'm no theurge, but that sounds reasonable. Until recently, all of the spirits I've encountered have been in the Umbra. I really have little to no experience with dreams, Chimera or not." A moment later she adds, "Well, the turtle wanted us to find a rock, only it wasn't actually a rock. And the bear... I think the bear was testing my stubbornness. It roared at me, and when I didn't move it seemed happy." A little circle of one hand suggests that the encounter wasn't as simple as that.
"Or," Jack says, musing. "Your lack've fear of it." He shrugs a shoulder, though. "I ain't a theurge." Obviously. "When y'say not a rock, what was it?"
"Maybe," the girl acknowledges. Then, with an exasperated little shrug, "I don't know. Neither one of us does. The turtle... it was asking questions, but they didn't really have answers, and then it sent us off to find a rock except it wasn't really looking for a rock."
"A'ight, so, what was it lookin' for?" A pause, and then he adds wryly, "Not that it probably makes much difference as t'what it'd mean t'me, but."
"We don't know," Shelby repeats. "Trust me, Jack-rhya, I've tried to figure it out, but I have no idea what the turtle actually wanted."
"Ah, sorry, misunderstood." Jack takes another drag off the cigarette, blowing out the smoke thoughtfully, and then quirks a brow upward. "This 'un had th'phoenix thing at th'end. That was probably Important."
Shelby clears her throat moments after he exhales, and straightens up. "Probably, yes. I think it's interesting that the eagle disappeared - unless it never was an eagle, and was a phoenix all along. I also wonder what would have happened if we'd gone the easy - well, easier - route. We all were feeling pretty good until we decided to go that way, I thought."
"Could've been. Ain't no way t'be sure now, I guess." There's a pause, and he mulls it over. "Dunno. Figure things happen for a reason one way or th'other."
"Maybe," the girl acknowledges. "Hard to tell, in dreams. Unless you're a theurge, I suppose. But even Zosia said there wasn't necessarily one right way to go."
"Yea." There's a pause as he thinks something over, and then glances to her with a brow raised. "So you've had this happen a few times, yea? There anythin' that triggers it or does it just happen?"
She nods: a few times, yes. "That's a good question. I don't think there was anything to trigger it, but I haven't really thought about it. I mean, other than me being asleep, of course," she adds with a flash of a quick smile. "I can try to remember if I ate spicy food or something, but even for three weeks ago my memory's going to be pretty spotty."
Jack gives her a bit of a wry look. "I was just watchin' TV, and found myself in th'land of Narnia or wherever th'fuck it was." He sounds a little amused, though as always it's hard to tell. "Yea, especially if you ain't sure when it's gonna happen."
Shelby says, "I was out on the bawn, sleeping. In lupus." As though that might make a difference. "If you were going to be thorough about it, you'd keep a dream diary with everything you ate and did every day, but I'm pretty sure Zosia'd think that's crap. I think it's more... more spirit-based, instead of something we did. After all, there were four of us, and the two of us," she gestures from Walker to Fang, "were doing entirely different things. Probably all day."
"Yea, probably. And y'got city and woods garou, so who knows." Jack rubs at some of the stubble on his jaw, and considers. "A'ight, well. I'll talk t'Mouse, maybe get a second opinion. Direct her your way."
"Exactly," she agrees, and pulls a cell from her purse. "Let me give you my number. I'm not a Guardian like Zosia, so I'm available for city things too."
"A'ight, cool," Jack replies with a nod. "I'll give y'mine, too. Hell, y'never know, shit might be happenin' to other people, too. If it's happenin' to us, we probably ain't th'only ones."
"Good point," says Shelby, once numbers are exchanged and her phone safely returned to her purse. "We should mention it at moot. I should get going," she adds, standing. "It was nice meeting you - in the flesh and officially, this time." The girl's smile returns, another quick flash of teeth and dimples. "If you don't mind, I'll see myself out."
"Yea, no prob. See y'around." Jack gives her a bit of a lazy salute as farewell, and seems to have no objections to her letting herself out. The less he has to get up, the better.