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Beware the Galliard.
W h o: Dagny, Frankie, Jacey, Owen, Riley, Sue
W h e n: Evening 4.17.2012
W h e r e: Edgewood House
W h a t: Dagny brings a few things over to Edgewood for people. Frankie shows up, Jacey shows up, Owen shows up. Owen requires something from Dagny. He gets it in spades.
....
For a change, Riley's not in the kitchen. Rather, she's flopped down on the couch, a rather bored expression on her face as she reads a beaten up old Koontz mass-market that's being lazily held above her face with one hand. It has to have come from either an old bookshelf or a used book store, but Riley's apparent lack of interest seems to imply that whatever the book's origin, it's being paid little mind.
The front door swings open and shut, and there is a lingering in the mudroom before the metis moves into the Edgewood's main room, smiling cheerfully to himself. Riley gets a glance, and a wave of greeting. "Hi there Riley-rhya," is offered, and Sue does seem intent on making his way to the kitchen, eventually.
Riley snaps the cover immediately closed with the hand that's cradling the spine at the first sign of life, slowly turning her head toward Sue. For a time, she looks almost baffled, but whatever inner conflict she's having looks to sort itself out before too long. She gives an acknowledging nod of her head. "Evenin'." The paperback is lightly tossed over her shoulder, whereupon it smacks into an adjacent wall as she rolls her eyes, "Magical Golden Retrievers. Why is this guy a best-seller, exactly?" The words seem to be aimed toward the heavens, rather than at Sue. "Gods, but this place is boring."
Sue angles a look of some confusion to the Glass Walker. "Is it?" he asks, seeming genuinely curious. "Why?"
Riley sits sharply up, swinging her legs over the edge of the couch and propping her cheek along one hand. "Aside from the general lack of the comforts of home and any particularly impressive tech," She counts off on her fingers, frowning, "I just don't like being more or less trapped here. I'd rather be out and getting things done, but until I resolve something with Mel, my life's pretty much on hold."
Sue frowns. "Sorry to hear," he offers, quietly, pausing to watch Riley rather than continue to head towards the kitchen.
"Yeah, well. Me too." Riley grunts, and immediately flops back down onto the couch, crossing one leg over the other knee and letting her foot dangle and sway, clearly agitated.
Sue nods, and then moves off into the kitchen. There's a long moment of puttering about, and then Sue's head pokes into the main room again. "You want anything from in here?" he asks of Riley. "While I'm at it?"
Riley's foot momentarily stops bouncing, and she cranes her head back to look at the metis, upside-down. She looks to be in deep consideration, and her final reply after the long wait is a bit underwhelming. "I wouldn't say no to a soda. Or if they don't have it, if ya'd pour me a glass of milk."
"Sure," comes the response. Sue offers a brief smile and disappears back into the kitchen. Eventually, the metis returns, sans hiking pole, with a couple of cookies for himself on a plate, and two cans of coke, one of which is promptly set down in front of the ragabash before Sue finds a seat.
Riley casts an appreciative nod in Sue's direction before lazily swiping her hand over and snagging up the coke can, staying horizontal. The can is given a few little flicks of her finger around the rim, producing a tinny metallic clink, followed by her popping the tab up and bringing it to her lips, taking a long swig. She skirts her gaze back over toward Sue for a moment, and then examines the ceiling. "So," She states, "Said you were a philodox, right? How's that working for you? Haven't had much experience with 'em til lately, and from where I'm layin', it seems like a pain in the dick."
There's an engine rumble coming up the drive to Edgewood. As the lights of a truck filter through the windows and turn off, the sound of loud soon dominates the engine noise a moment before both cease. Well. Someone continues to sing in what sounds like an operatic tone. Dagny bursts in the door with her arms laden with shopping bags. Still jamming out to the music though it's long gone, the Get steps in through the front door and kicks her shoes off. She eventually turns down the volume and hums when she notices there are others! "Hayyyy! Good. I wanted to see both of you. Sue! I found shoes for you. I kinda had to guess on the sizes, but maybe they'll work." She pulls a few bags off of her arms and hands one to Sue. A rather large shoe box is inside. To Riley, she tosses a very pink, very Victoria's Secret bag.
Sue laughs. "I'm halfmoon, yes." The very last part of the statement earns an uptick of brow, but the Fury continues nonetheless. "Dunno, though. It depends on what parts of being a halfmoon you're talking about. I'm not exactly fond of the Judging people part. Did that back in Golden Gate for my Rite, and once more after before I left, and--" then Dagny enters, and there's a tentative, wide grin offered to the Get. "Dagny-rhya!" The greeting is offered and the bag is taken. "Shoes? Um, thanks." It's genuine, if a little surprised that she'd do that for him, and he withdraws the shoebox, beginning to open it and turning back to Riley. The Victoria's Secret bag is just flatly ignored, or maybe not even noticed as if it was anything out of the ordinary to begin with. "Anyway. Why recently, if I may ask, Riley-rhya?"
The conversation gets put quite on hold by the arrival of Dagny. The ragabash's eyes track her with lifted brows as she jams on in, and even further when a bag is abruptly flung in her direction. The good old 'catching' instinct doesn't fail Riley here, but once she's clutching the iconic pink bag in hand, she has the chance to read the black-on-pink text and her brows lower, eyes going momentarily squinty-eyed. "Oh, Dagny," The deadpan is palpable, "You really, really shouldn't have." Before she bothers to overreact, though, she at least has the decency to peer inside, sifting past the single layer of thin gift paper that's within, head tilted slightly to the side during the process.
"Oh, think nothing of it." Dagny remarks in a casual fashion. She then plunks down in an arm chair and drops the other bags beside her. With a sigh she folds a leg over the other and relaxes. "There are so many benefits to being a ragey beast of meat and hair. One of them is, I usually get the whole store to myself when I go somewhere. No weird looks. No annoying sales people. It makes them even more nervous when I smile and act bouncy at them." She turns her head toward Sue to watch the boy with the box. "I thought those might be a bit better than what you're currently stuck with."
Sue opens the shoebox, pulling out the pair of boots--which look like hooves, and are designed to hold someone's weight on the ball of their feet--and holding them up, then putting them and standing up. There's a moment of evident and visible hesitation, before Sue moves over and hugs Dagny. Tightly. "Those are awesome," he states.
If there's something akin to a mental sigh of relief, that's visible on Riley's features the instant she spies what all is contained within her bag. She doesn't go pulling them out to examine them more closely, but the sarcasm appears to flee from her features, and the girl is shot a more grateful look. "Thanks." She manages more honestly, "I have some of the normal kind, but these'll be a big help for when the situation calls for it." She briefly rustles around some, and then squints. She shifts the bag about a bit and lifts a brow, and goes back to regarding Dagny darkly. "...Seriously?" She fishes out a lacey red bra, hanging it from one finger before she rather immediately notes that the cup size is way too large. Realizing her mistake, and still seeing Sue's back turned, she shoves it right back into the bag, flustered. "Nevermind. Nevermind. 'Preciate it again. Good choices." She swallows, "All around."
The hug seems to surprise the Get, and she 'oofs' slightly before wrapping her arms around the metis and giving him a squeeze of her own. "You're very welcome. If those don't work, I'll find someone with a lathe and I'll turn out a decent walking stick for ya." Riley's reaction is unexpected. Dagny looks over at him over the Metis' shoulder and flushes faintly. "Yea, I'll.. get that one back from you later. I forgot to take that one out." She coughs slightly, and lets Sue up. She eyes his feet. "Try walkin' in 'em a bit. See how the balance is." To Riley, in the meantime, she asks, "How was your head this morning?"
Sue returns to the pair of shoes, removing his current pair, which are heavy orthopedic shoes, and setting them aside. His feet are twisted and obviously malformed, although nonspecifically, and there's a moment of struggle in silence to get the boots on, but it's worth it for the way his face lights up once he's got them on. "These /feel better/, too," he states, even as he gets to his feet. It's clear that these require something more akin to his natural balance and posture, and he shifts his weight tentatively.
"Not as bad as you're probably expectin'," Riley grunts, "But yeah, bad enough that I moaned around for an hour or two, slurpin' down water like it was going of style." Riley scratches the corner of her cheek, still trying to shake that momentary undergarment-related shock, apparently. She clears her throat, more quietly murmuring, "Anyway, maybe I should go on a jog or somethin' soon. Break these in, and stuff. Bet it's less... annoying, and stuff." She seems to realize her overuse of 'stuff', and lamely adds, "And stuff." There's still that underlying current of awkwardness present in the ragabash's tone. That hasn't yet gone away while she's sober, it would seem.
"Just, you know. Hold onto something. Frankie'd be pissed at me if you went careening through her coffee table." Dagny warns gently. She looks back over to Riley with full attention. Nodding at the reply, she clears her throat a bit and says, "I.. Have a trick to them. It might help you. With like.. putting them on." She looks everywhere in the room, now, except at Riley. "Sue, watch out for the edge of the rug, there!"
Sue holds on to the back of the chair he just got up from, and nods. "I'm being careful," he assures, and though there's a moment of unsteadiness, Sue catches his balance and his footing, and steps carefully onto the rug, taking a few more steps. There's a gigantic grin for Dagny. "Seriously, these rock, Dagny-rhya. I think I'll keep the hiking pole a bit just while I'm getting used to them, but they're awesome. They feel right." A pause. "Aunt April will laugh, but let her."
Riley ends up being quiet and watching Sue and Dagny for a moment. The exchange brings a little smile to her lips, and she closes her eyes, giving a gentle little shake of her head before fixing her gaze back on Dagny. "Swear, you're such a Mom. You sure you're not some weird, multi-classing Garou? Get and Coggie all rolled into one? You obviously skipped the bit about taking an experience penalty, Dagny-rhya." Her expression is almost uncharacteristically warm, and scarcely even resembles the caged-up, bored face she'd been wearing just a moment ago for Sue.
Dagny snorts at mention of April laughing. "Just wear longer pants, it'll cover most of 'em up if you do." Dag!Logic at its finest. The Get continues to monitor Sue's baby steps with a careful eye. It isn't until Riley says something about multi-classing that Dagny shoots the Walker a -look-. A rather nasty, serious look. "You need a reminder of how Get I am?"
Sue is taking a few more confident steps, now, and he steps out of the line-of-sight between Dagny and Riley, bending his knees. There's a tiny hint of unsteadiness left in his steps, but it's nothing in comparison to the usual of without the hiking pole. Or even his usual balance with it. "Yeah. I can get longer pants pretty easy," he asserts.
Blink. The warmth in the ragabash's expression slips away almost immediately as she's made the target of that sour look. She draws a long breath and lets it out, frowning. "No more than you need a reminder of how Ragabash I am. It was a joke, and a compliment, and what's more, I know that you know that." She squints, "So, what gives with that reaction?"
The Get gives him a longer stare, hard. Then her lips fly up into a devious smirk. "Totally had you going." Dag relaxes back into the chair looking very pleased with herself. Sue's return has her looking over at the metis with perhaps a bit of pride. At the very least, joy. "How's the pain level with 'em?" The hand closes to Riley flexes, the knuckles giving some pops when they extend and curl.
Sue walks about the living room a little bit more, and then moves over to the table and grabs his can of soda again. "It's better than it normally is," he decides, after some consideration and moving back to sit down on a chair. He looks over at Dagny, and offers an explanation that he hadn't mentioned before, quietly. "I'm missing a whole /bone/ that's supposed to be in my feet in this form, so. Better--improvement--is good."
"Hmn." Riley snorts, leaning back into the couch and rolling her eyes upward, "Yeah, well. 'You or not, s'been awhile. You could tell me you renounced to theurge and I'd have to take it at face value if you hadn't been introducing yourself all over the place. Not the least of which cuz you're fuckin' scary when you throw around those glares." Riley's attention zeroes in on Sue, and she gives an empathetic wince. "Sounds like a pain in the dick." She really seems wedded to that phrase tonight.
Since this is the first time Dagny has actually heard Riley use thay phrase, the Get gives him a long look that is, for the most part, a bit uncomfortable. And a bit skeptical. The look is schooled into one of utter calm and contentment, however, as she looks back at Sue. "That explains that. Those boots will probably need some breaking in, but don't push it too far too fast. Y'might make it worse if you're over enthusiastic about it." After a moment, she looks at Riley and quirks a brow. "A Theurge? Really? I.. can't see that. At all. Like.. Ever."
The repeated use of the phrase 'pain in the dick' earns a brow-raise from Sue, again like the first time that Riley'd done so. "Yeah. I'm gonna be careful about it," Sue says, and then glances down at them. "Huh. Guess I should Dedicate them, too. Either of you have a knife by any chance, Dagny-rhya, Riley-rhya?"
Riley rolls her shoulders in a shrug, obliviously neglectin the repeated odd looks of her usage of said phrase. She yawns, "Yeah, right up there with Ragabash for auspices I'd completely fail to believe you'd fit. S'why it was perfect, I feel."
Someone stomping up to the rear door of the house can be heard from those in the kitchen, followed by a bit of a puase before the rear door itself is shoved open, the aperature now filled with a massive Get Jarl, boots now in hand. These are set by the door as it closes behind him. He takes a brief moment to survey the place before entering further.
"What, you don't think I'm clever enough to be a Raggi?" Dag asks. She holds her hand out for Sue's. When the Metis obliges and puts his hand in hers, Dagny takes his index finger and, instead of using a knife, turns her head and uses one of her canines to prick a small incision into the skin. The action is quick, and as soon as some blood forms on his skin, she releases his hand. Without looking up, she figures she's going to get weird looks and so, preemptively states, "I sharpened them. In Norway." After a moment, she looks at Riley and squints. "You would totally be a rad Philo." The crashing and bumping gives Dag pause and she turns to see the half-giant enter the room. Without wasting time, the Galliard asks, "Did Morgan get in touch with you?"
Sue does, in fact, give Dagny an odd look, but it's followed by an appreciative look as he bends, drawing a quick series of glyphs with the blood on the boots, and his attention is clearly on that rather than the conversation--or Owen's arrival, which gets a nod of distracted greeting from the metis.
That suggestion gets an immediate bark of laughter from Riley, "'Cleverness' nothing. You're a lotta things, Dag, but subtle i'n't one of them. You forget, I've seen you tryin' to be stealthy." Riley is seated on the couch, a Victoria's Secret bag settled next to her. The sounds of others arriving steals some of the amusement from her features. In fact, she looks rather on-edge at the sudden sound of stomping and the like, her body tensing up way more than it should.
Owen peers into the den for a moment more, matching names to faces as he can, before simply shaking his head a little negatively in answer to the other Get. He then makess his way across the kitchen to go digging through the fridge.
There's a thump outside, and then eventually Frankie comes in the front door, dusting her hands off. "That kid does good work," she says to no one in particular, as she sticks her bag in the hall. "Hi."
"Ah, yes. The Bear Trap." Dagny says in an aside to Riley. "In the grand scheme of things, I'd much rather be a viking than a ninja. We have cooler hats." Owen's negatory gets an acknowledging 'hn'. Dagny beams as Frankie enters and offers the woman a wave before raising her voice so that she can be heard by the Get in the kitchen. "Well, then. You'll be happy to know I was checked for Wyrms and given a clean bill of health. I also spoke with Silvertip and he's stated that I'm still a full member of the Sept and am not required to do chiminage." Once more to Frankie, Dag turns and digs in one of the many shopping bags at her feet. "I brought that CD I was telling you about." Plucking it out of the bag she stands and holds it out for the Kin. "I'll understand if folk metal isn't your thing. Agmund's voice kind of gets raspy when he goes into the screamy bits, but the rest of the time he's pretty solid."
When she unwinds enough from the Get's blustery entrance, Riley clears her throat and tilts the pink bag on it's side, shedding her oversized coat for the sole purpose of draping it over the potential source of embarrassment and hopefully nipping it in the bud early. Her eyes follow after Owen's retreating form, and then slide over to Frankie's approaching one. She lamely tilts her head, raising a hand. "Uh, hey." That seems to be her contribution to the conversation thus far, her relative disquiet still not entirely settled.
It's not Jacey's usual entrance, this time she comes down the stairs with a pair of grungy shoes in hand. She at least looks somewhat cleaner, if still rumpled. Her descent slows as she nears the bottom, stopping completely once her feet are on the floor proper, looking at the already semi-full room in some surprise.
Sue watches Dagny as she speaks, stretching his legs out in front of him. The boots he's currently wearing are a bit odd, rather hoof-shaped. "Hi," is offered to Frankie, but Sue's gaze flicks between the kitchen and Dagny, otherwise silent.
"Oh, hey, thanks," Frankie says with clear eagerness, and takes the CD, before glancing back at Owen in the kitchen, and back to Dagny. "There was a doubt?" she asks in confusion, before settling into a crouch to put the CD away in her bag. "Frankie, by the way. Get Kin," she tells Sue, and Riley.
Owen can be heard pausing briefly in his rummaging, the clinking of glasses silencing for what seems an irritable moment, before it's followed by the sound of a beer bottle popping open and the fridge door slamming shut. Owen eventually reappears in the frame of the door leading from the kitchen, frowning now, as he looks straight to Dagny. "Welcome back," he finally states, a little irrately. "But there's still something you got to give."
"Well." Dagny begins her reply to Frankie. "Since the Jarl is new, and didn't know me previously, he voiced certain concerns." When Jacey appears, Dagny gives the girl a thumbs up. Seated in the armchair as she is, the Galliard has to roll her head back to see the other Get as he enters the room. His welcome is given a bright, beaming smile. "Thank you." The later comment earns the Jarl a bat from her lashes. "Anything for your smiling self. What'll it be?"
Riley seems to be settling down considerably with every moment that doesn't threaten violence upon her. Those are usually the prefered moments. The ragabash eases back agaisnt the couch cushions, a small smile showing for Frankie. "Nice to meet ya. Between you and Sue here, I'll be misplacing pronouns left and right." Her smile widens into a well-intended grin. "Name's Riley. Glass Walker. Fostern. Ragabash. Digger. Listener. Runner. Prince with a Swift Warning." Here, she gives a throaty chuckle at her own joke.
Jacey offers a small smile to Sue and a nod to Frankie. "H'lo, Dagny-rhya, Riley-rhya," she offers, stepping away from the stairway. There's a beat of hesitation that's followed quickly with a nod to the Ahroun. "Owen-rhya," sounds more distant, as if only offered as is required by protocol.
"Pleased," Frankie says to Riley. "I was identifying you as Drunk Gal in my head, before, and that's no good. I've been Frankie most of my life, so the pronouns just work out in the end." She finishes putting her gift away, then looks at Owen, curious.
Owen takes a moment, apparently reigning something in mentally. "I was Fostern before some of those now present were even born. I was Jarl in these lands before your name was ever heard of hear. As a galliard, I would have thought you'd know that." He takes a pull from his bottle, Jacey getting the barest of glances, before speaking again. "I believe you at the least owe a story. One of what you did while away." That said, he looks to the kin and regards her in much the same way.
Sue laughs a little, clearly amused by Riley's comment. "I named myself Sue, it doesn't bother me," he assures Riley. However, Owen speaking has Sue tensing ever so slightly, and the philodox sits up slightly in the armchair he's chosen. "Nice to meet you, Frankie," he offers. "Sue Zahakis. Cliath and philodox of the Furies."
Riley looks amused for the barest of moments at the reference to her drunken conduct of the last evening, but it seems to wink out for no particular reason when she glances over to grin to Dagny. There, her brows furrow, and she distractedly mentions, "Yeah, I drank a little too much." Owen's words draw Riley's full focus, and both of her brows knit upward at the proclamation. She looks very much like she's chewing on a witty retort, but ultimately doesn't voice it. Wisdom!
Dagny gives a slow blink to Owen for a moment before she purses her lips. With a sigh she shrugs a shoulder and says, almost gently, "No one ever talked about an Owen while I was around. Signe and Emma, yes. Never heard of you before the other day when I met you in the kitchen." Fixing her head back into its natural place (that is, upright and not leaning back), Dagny looks at the room, and says, "Providing my audience has no objections, I think tonight's as good a night for a story as any. I'll understand if any of you want to run away now."
Jacey sinks downward, eyes dropping to the floor as she lowers herself to sit on the bottommost step. Once seated, she looks up again, turning her attention onto Dagny.
"And meanwhile, I haven't a clue who Signe is, which sort of bothers me," Frankie says, as she rises from her crouch. She looks at Owen in confusion, though, as he regards her. Dubious looks, she is apparently a conoisseur of, as she says, tentatively, "You know me. Don't you?" But she soon concludes, on the heels of this, "No, you don't. The heck? I guess I've been more of a hermit, writing this last book, than I thought. Frankie Capitanos. Or, Sigrun Frederika Olrunsdottir, if you want the long version. Kin of the Get of Fenris, daughter of Olrun Fenrir's Spirit, may she enjoy her time in Valhalla, and Gunnar Hardrada." She glances upward and around fondly, then back to Owen. "Place's mine. Gift to the Sept."
Owen stares a couple daggers at Dagny and something said, followed by a quick glance at his bottle as though contemplating turning it into a shiv. Instead, though, he looks back up towards the kinswoman. "A face to the name. It is good to finally meet you." He gives a short, stiff bow. "Owen Hollsinger. Wildfire, Gifted of Fenris. Adren Modi and Jarl of the Fenrir. Formerly a child Fenris, Weasel, Black Unicorn, Wyvern, Hrafn, and twice of Wolverine. Rited in the Sept of the Sentinel but once and again full member of the Sept of the Hidden Walk, once the Wheel Renewed, where I stand as guard outside of the Guardian Pack. Grandson of Ule Gathering-Storm Hollsinger, Skald and warrior of the blitzkreig then later hero of the retaking of Dresden, himself a great grandchild of Otto Dragon-Thane Von-Heisling, Modi during the rise of Prussia. I am Destroyer of the Rust-Belt slasher, Bester of the Nightmare in the River, Slayer of the Grey-Sky Dragon, Cleanser of Cabled-Lightning, Hunter in the Far Reaches, Feaster at the Table of the Great Wolf, Felt the Final Pain of Death, Slayer of the Justly Called Fallen, Alpha's Saviour, Singer of His Own Dirge, Stands Firm Against the Fallen, Gatherer of Trophies of the Thunder Lizards, Follower of the Four-Year Hunt, and Freer of the Lakes of York." He takes in a bit of a breath after that cadence, his faint German accent having broken out once more. He seems about to add something else, but instead just take another drink.
Riley shuffles subtly over and sits on her coat, which makes a rather un-coat-like crinkling noise when she does so, but she plays that off with a sharp clearing of her throat. Frankie is then given a snap of her fingers. "Oh! I didn't know you were the one that owned the place. You're --- well, I mean. You're you. But I've seen your books. They look--" And in that moment of panicked realization that she's talked herself into a corner, Riley's brain seizes the nearest adjective to come to mind and spits out, "--kinky?"
Sue doesn't seem terribly pleased by the moment where there's a chance of violence, but there's nothing actually said. Instead, the metis rises to his feet (perhaps just because he easily can), and sits back down on the floor where he can watch Dagny, now.
As Owen starts, and then continues, to talk, Frankie's attention sharpens on him. She seems to be absorbing it fully. "Huh. Well. Well met. You'll tell me a few of the tales to go along with the names, Owen, around a fire, someday? I'd like that." Her attention is dragged away by Riley, though. Apparently not insulted, and possibly even amused, she says, "No, fantasy. Kinky, I've done, too, if you want to borrow a few. They suck, though. Wrote 'em when I was younger, to order. Meantime --" She glances over at Dagny. "Not planning on running away."
"Perhaps how I saved this Caern. It seems folks have forgotten. But I'll gladly set time for our kin." Owen then turns to regard the Galliard as she's about to do her Galliardly thing.
Riley gives a gentle little grin at Frankie's response, waving a hand as though to indicate that she'll pass. In the meantime, Owen is considered a second time, her head craning for a moment until Dagny interrupts her thought processes with her own tale.
Jacey scoots off the step, leaving her shoes carefully behind. She edges along the floor quietly, moving to place herself beside Sue without really turning her attention off from Dagny.
Remaining respectfully quiet while Owen introduces himself, at length, to Frankie, Dagny grabs a bottle of water from one of her bags and takes a long swig of it. When Jacey scoots, Dagny points at her and says, "Consider this an impromptu lesson." When the room seems to calm down and grow expectant, she offers the gathered an appreciative bow of her head. "There were hundreds." Dagny begins. For a moment, her expression is far, far away when her head comes up. "Several hundreds; their faces contorted, mouths open so wide they looked like swollen, red gashes against their pale skin. Some wore paint on their faces, blood red. All of them were trashing like an angry sea; limbs flailing, fists all but hammering down on one another. Scores of bodies moving in unison, all scrabbling to get to us."
The Galliard rises, moving to sit in a perched position on the arm of the chair she had been sunk into. Propping her foot up on the cushion, she rubbed her jaw and looked to the ceiling, as if using it to trigger memory. "Despite the fact that we five had a handful waiting behind us, it was we, alone, that were expected to defeat the howling horde that sprawled ahead against the snow. We had been sent to that end." The Skald closes her eyes and allows a fangy grin to stretch over her face as she remembers. "The sound was glorious. A chorus of bloodthirst greeted us as we strode forward. Nokvi Steel-Gleams-Red, son of Hala Jarl-Maker. Virta, Son of Uld Rime-Gjallr. Abjorn, son of Jarl Thorvalis - He who Breaks the Bonds of the Great Wolf. Agmund, son of Gorr. Vragi Gold-Bristle, son of Thengal." She pauses and looks around the room. "All Fenrir. Three of which were Kin, armed to the teeth and bathed in steel. The midnight sun shown down on us as we leapt toward the fray. Agmund, who wielded no weapon but the fists Fenrir gave him at his birth, roared against the surging throng." Some may notice Dagny's foot has started tapping. "The battle had begun. The countryside erupted in an unholy din."
"Abjorn slammed his hammers into the waiting bodies again and again; instead of recoiling, the mass of crazed fools cried out for more. Virta drove forward, bloodied axe in hand as he cut through bodies left and right. They fell before him like mewling babes, their painted faces pointing to the heavens. A carpet of red before me, I moved to the right, swinging my hammer in a singing arc. I saw bodies rise and fall, lofted and thrown by their own ilk. There was no rhyme or reason to their actions, no loyalty to one another.. only a common goal. Swallowing us whole."
Dagny clears her throat and leans back on the arm of the couch, brows knitting. By this point in her story, the Get's voice has reached a full, tolling boom of one who means to command the room in its entirety. "It is difficult to recall just how long we chiseled away at them. How much red there was, oh.. the snow was soaked with red.. trampled beneath their feet, pressed into Gaia's waiting lips. Our offering. With a burst of rage, we were in their minds and in their bodies, feeling their pulse and forcing them to sway beneath our onslaught. A blur of beautiful weapons, limbs; a thunder behind us so heavy it rattled our very bones and those of the horde before us.. And just when the battle reached a fever's pitch of chaotic proportions.." Dagny trails off..
Owen simply listens. He doesn't appear rapt or swayed, bored, or simply going through motions. He is, simply, listening.
Frankie seems to be catching Dagny's rhythm, as her own toe starts tapping. But she seems not to notice that she's doing it, as she listens.
Jacey offers a very quiet, "Yes, Dagny-rhya," along with a nod. Something in her expression saying she'd planned on nothing less than an impromptu lesson, even if the elder Galliard hadn't proclaimed it to be. She listens attentively, the rest of the room may well not exist while the tale is woven. Not just the words, but the measure and tone are given consideration, steady concentration marked on the girl's face while Dagny speaks.
The attention that Sue pays to Dagny's words is definitely rapt, with the attitude of one who enjoys such tellings immensely, and there is a faint smile on his face as he listens.
"..The thunder burst in a bone-shattering boom. It provided template for the final lashes of each of our weapons. In unison we struck out once, twice, thrice.. The third and final blow punctuated by that deep bass again." Dagny sighs almost wistfully and opens her eyes, looking at the ceiling. "And then, with almost angelic reverence, Abjorn took his booted foot off of the bass pedal and lowered his drumsticks. The crowd hesitated a moment, as if it fully expected us to drive back into a break neck pace. We all bowed our heads as they exploded into thunderous applause and went completely bananas." The Galliard reaches down and finds her water bottle. She takes a little sip and looks around at them. "Hell of a concert, y'shoulda seen it."
Riley blinks her eyes several times and then falls off of her coat/victoria's secret bag perch, crowing with laughter.
Frankie says "Ha," and glances toward her bag, evidently even gladder to have the CD, now.
Jacey's mouth pulls up on one side, grinning as the story winds to an end.
Sue grins somewhat as well, clapping his hands together quietly a few times in evident amusement as he looks over at Dagny.
Owen's face is unreadable for a time as the story draws to an end, eventually the plain stoicism broken as he sucks on a tooth and then a pull from his bottle. He reaches behind him for a moment inside of his jacket, eventually pulling out an unadorned flask. He looks at it for a moment before tossing it across the room towards Dagny, still without much expression on his face.
With polite thanks, Dagny bows her head and holds her hands up. "You're too kind." Movement from Owen has her turning to look at the Jarl. She catches the flask neatly and looks at it. Her eyes alone skirt back to him as she unscrews the lid and takes a cursory sniff of the contents. Before taking a drink, she reaches down into the mass of bags. Her backpack is there somewhere. She unzips it and withdraws a small wine skin and tosses it back at the Modi. "Awakened mead from Norway. Aged three years. Touch of rose hips to it. Best served at room temperature. Which that is." After that, she tips the flask against her lips and takes a sip.
Frankie tells Owen, "By the way, Dagny'll be taking care of the place while I'm not around, when I'm not around, which is, evidently, fairly often." Then she leaves her pack there, and goes to get something in the kitchen.
Having taken far too much mirth out of the telling of that story, Riley pulls herself still-laughing from the couch to look to Dagny... and her eyes zero in on the mead as it appears. Biting down any further laughter with great effort, the ragabash nearly chokes out, "I can vouch for the drink. Tasty and strong."
The story over, Jacey stands and retreats back to the staircase with a look of 'Still more work to do'. She offers quiet apologies to the elder Garou first, then the others, after she's gathered her shoes. No wait for response is made, though, the girl makes for the front door quietly, to avoid further interruptions.
Sue gives Jacey a faint wave as she departs, leaning against the chair he's sitting in front of, and seemingly perfectly content to remain where he's seated on the floor.
Owen responds in kind. "Family recipe. Not telling you shit about it, except that it's twenty-five years old." One quick sniff, then a pull from the skin, he nods appreciatively. "Welcome back," he repeats, then turns back to the kitchen, incidentally following the kin.
Tippin the flask back down, Dagny's brows inch up a ways on her forehead. She gives the flask a very different look, having tasted the precious contents. She screws the lid back on and tucks the flask into her shirt in a perfect, natural holder. "And to you as well." She responds to Owen before he moves to the kitchen. With that out of the way, she glances over to Riley and Sue. "Liked that, didja? I mean it, hell of a concert. Most bloody noses and broken ribs at a concert, I think the paper said."
Frankie gets a root beer out of the fridge, and glances back at Owen. "Want one?"
Riley's eyes are alive with fiery amusement. She surges up from the couch and crosses over to where Dagny stands, and socks her one in the shoulder, teeth on full display, "'Be fucked if I didn't miss the way you weave a tale. Nice twist. Didn't notice where it was going. That'll teach me." Her smile becomes a little bit more extortionary, "So, there's more of that mead left, yeah?"
Owen had just set his empty by the recycling bin. "No thanks," he answers, a polite smile on his face that looks out of place on him. "I just need to go catch dinner." He is soon fetching his boots.
Sue just nods, once. The sheer number of people seems to have gotten it to the point where the metis is unwilling to be talkative, resorting to sitting there and not drawing attention to himself in the quietest fashion possible. That, or he's too fascinated by his new shoes, which well could be.
Frankie salutes the Ahroun with her bottle, and heads out the back door ahead of him, holding it open for him in return. Since her bike doesn't start up, she's evidently just taking a break outside. A long one.
Dagny rolls with the punch to her shoulder and delivers one of her own to Riley's. It's no where near full bore, as if the Get pulled back at the last second. "Shame on you! Your new moon brain shoulda seen it coming. I'll chalk it off to me maybe bein' so rad at story telling I could take a shit and twist it so it sounded like a war saga. Which reminds me." Dagny leans over and looks into the kitchen. "Hey, Frankie. Do you mind if I move my shit into the big bedroom and take it over while I'm here?" No response. The Galliard huhs, discovering a lack of Frankie in the kitchen. "Meh, I'll email her."
Riley merely smirks as she's retalliated against. "/Should/ you spin the Epic of The Bowel Movement, warn me ahead of time, so I don't get too invested."
Sue watches Riley for a moment, in a considering fashion, but then the metis just leans back and looks up at the ceiling.
"By the time you realize you've been drawn into a fantastic fable of fecal fame, it will be too late." Dagny leans to the side and sinks back into the arm chair completely, though at the wrong angle. Her legs drape over one arm while her back is against the other. "One of these days, I oughta make you tell me about shit you did in the Green. I'm very, very curious."
"And one of these days, I'll get around to it." Riley smirks, doubling back to her couch of choice. Which happens to be the only couch, but hey. "I assure you, it's not half the excitement that this place sees. Huge, healthy stept like the Green, they have things pretty much under control at all times. Lower-ranked as I was, I didn't see a whole lot of epic-story-worthy stuff. A lot of minor fomori, a lot of patrolling, and a lot of herding drunk civis on the ferry and the subway. Promise, though, I'll tell you about the interesting stuff when my head's more together, and not... on other things." Her smile looks a little bit strained after those last three words. "But yeah, I promise."
Sue adjusts his seated position, and seems perhaps to be listening to the conversation at hand, but still Sue just keeps with the being quiet, though he does look up and his shoulders ease a little when he notices that it's back to just being Dagny and Riley in the room.
There's a twitch at the side of Dagny's face, as if her ear tried to do a lupine back-turn for a moment. "Things will get better." Now that the room has emptied of others, Dagny relaxes a fair bit. The fun-loving mama bear has returned. "Do you.. want me to go with you when you talk to Melodie?" Her brows knit a bit as she awaits Riley's answer.
Riley glances to Sue, and then back to Dagny. She closes her eyes simply, and gives a little shake of her head, "Mel's good people. And... I know I already told you the whole thing, but it's already a hard enough thing to tell for the half-dozenth time, let alone with an audience... even if that audience is you." She swallows, "My decision. My responsibility to deal with, as much as I appreciate your offer. As ever."
Sue just makes a tiny 'erk' sound, and moves to get to his feet, albeit slowly. Riley gets a concerned furrow of brow from the young halfmoon, but no audible question.
Dagny nods at Riley a few times. "I can appreciate that. You know I'm just going to be pacing a moat around the place while you do talk to her, though." Dagny glances back toward the kitchen. After a moment, she takes the flask out from between her sweater kittens and dangles it at Riley. "You wanna taste? Stuff's actually stronger than mine."
Flask and Get both are giving a lingering look before Riley ends up shaking her head. "Actually, I should do myself a favor and turn in. If I fall asleep on this couch again, I'm gonna have to spend time in form just to get the pain out of my back again." She rises, and starts to head off - but then immediately doubles back and sheepishly collects her coat and the Victoria's Secret bag first. "And thanks again for these. I'm hopeless at deciphering the numbers and letters on my own. Anyways... yeah. Bed. Bed's good."
Sue looks over at Riley. "G'night, Riley-rhya," is offered, quietly, and then the metis moves to sit on the now-vacated couch. Evidently, he's getting used to the shoes, the movements are a lot more certain than his earlier tentative steps when he first put them on.
"Word to the wise. Clasp it first, then pull it on like a tank top. Creative adjustment afterwards, but it's a hell of a lot easier than trying to Spiderman your way in." Dagny offers as curtly and non-awkwardly as possible. Which, given the subject, is still pretty awkward. After a while, she samples another sip from the flask and shakes her head. When Sue speaks again, she looks over at the Metis. "So. What'd /you/ think of the story?"
There's a brief look of a moderately embarrassed ragabash face, and she mumbles, "Tank-top. Check!" Before she's off.
Sue has the grace to keep quiet about the discussion of bras. Nothing he hasn't heard a million variations of before, really, he doesn't even miss a beat. "I liked it. Didn't see the end coming, you're a heck of a storyteller, Dagny-rhya," he responds, neither looking up, nor at Dagny.
The Get responds first with a small smile. Then it fades, and she arches a brow. "What's goin on, kiddo? You're all quiet on me again." She turns in the arm chair to get a better look at the metis.
Sue looks up, now, and halfway at Riley, and shakes his head, looking slightly abashed. "Oh. I was," he realises. "Sorry, Dagny-rhya," is offered, genuine in sentiment but also quite automatic, and then his mouth forms another 'oh' shape after the words are out of it, and the metis facepalms, and chuckles slightly, laughing at himself as the case might be.
"Just Dag, when it's just you and me. Well, Riley, too. Dag is fine. I know you respect me, you don't need to tack on the rhya crap all the time." The Get offers with a grin. "So what's goin' on? Seems like you've got somethin' on your mind."
Sue nods, once, and leans back into the couch, though he's careful to keep his feet off of the furniture. "I'll try? The -rhya stuff's kinda not entirely intentional too," Sue states. It's just the normal form of address, even if that's stiff, and formal. Now, at least, he manages to look over, conversationally and mostly at ease without all the people around. "Not much, actually. Saw Topsy-rhya earlier today, she's going to work with me on me learning to--or at least about the movements involved in--dance. She thinks it might help my balance and such as well."
~ Fade ~
W h e n: Evening 4.17.2012
W h e r e: Edgewood House
W h a t: Dagny brings a few things over to Edgewood for people. Frankie shows up, Jacey shows up, Owen shows up. Owen requires something from Dagny. He gets it in spades.
....
For a change, Riley's not in the kitchen. Rather, she's flopped down on the couch, a rather bored expression on her face as she reads a beaten up old Koontz mass-market that's being lazily held above her face with one hand. It has to have come from either an old bookshelf or a used book store, but Riley's apparent lack of interest seems to imply that whatever the book's origin, it's being paid little mind.
The front door swings open and shut, and there is a lingering in the mudroom before the metis moves into the Edgewood's main room, smiling cheerfully to himself. Riley gets a glance, and a wave of greeting. "Hi there Riley-rhya," is offered, and Sue does seem intent on making his way to the kitchen, eventually.
Riley snaps the cover immediately closed with the hand that's cradling the spine at the first sign of life, slowly turning her head toward Sue. For a time, she looks almost baffled, but whatever inner conflict she's having looks to sort itself out before too long. She gives an acknowledging nod of her head. "Evenin'." The paperback is lightly tossed over her shoulder, whereupon it smacks into an adjacent wall as she rolls her eyes, "Magical Golden Retrievers. Why is this guy a best-seller, exactly?" The words seem to be aimed toward the heavens, rather than at Sue. "Gods, but this place is boring."
Sue angles a look of some confusion to the Glass Walker. "Is it?" he asks, seeming genuinely curious. "Why?"
Riley sits sharply up, swinging her legs over the edge of the couch and propping her cheek along one hand. "Aside from the general lack of the comforts of home and any particularly impressive tech," She counts off on her fingers, frowning, "I just don't like being more or less trapped here. I'd rather be out and getting things done, but until I resolve something with Mel, my life's pretty much on hold."
Sue frowns. "Sorry to hear," he offers, quietly, pausing to watch Riley rather than continue to head towards the kitchen.
"Yeah, well. Me too." Riley grunts, and immediately flops back down onto the couch, crossing one leg over the other knee and letting her foot dangle and sway, clearly agitated.
Sue nods, and then moves off into the kitchen. There's a long moment of puttering about, and then Sue's head pokes into the main room again. "You want anything from in here?" he asks of Riley. "While I'm at it?"
Riley's foot momentarily stops bouncing, and she cranes her head back to look at the metis, upside-down. She looks to be in deep consideration, and her final reply after the long wait is a bit underwhelming. "I wouldn't say no to a soda. Or if they don't have it, if ya'd pour me a glass of milk."
"Sure," comes the response. Sue offers a brief smile and disappears back into the kitchen. Eventually, the metis returns, sans hiking pole, with a couple of cookies for himself on a plate, and two cans of coke, one of which is promptly set down in front of the ragabash before Sue finds a seat.
Riley casts an appreciative nod in Sue's direction before lazily swiping her hand over and snagging up the coke can, staying horizontal. The can is given a few little flicks of her finger around the rim, producing a tinny metallic clink, followed by her popping the tab up and bringing it to her lips, taking a long swig. She skirts her gaze back over toward Sue for a moment, and then examines the ceiling. "So," She states, "Said you were a philodox, right? How's that working for you? Haven't had much experience with 'em til lately, and from where I'm layin', it seems like a pain in the dick."
There's an engine rumble coming up the drive to Edgewood. As the lights of a truck filter through the windows and turn off, the sound of loud soon dominates the engine noise a moment before both cease. Well. Someone continues to sing in what sounds like an operatic tone. Dagny bursts in the door with her arms laden with shopping bags. Still jamming out to the music though it's long gone, the Get steps in through the front door and kicks her shoes off. She eventually turns down the volume and hums when she notices there are others! "Hayyyy! Good. I wanted to see both of you. Sue! I found shoes for you. I kinda had to guess on the sizes, but maybe they'll work." She pulls a few bags off of her arms and hands one to Sue. A rather large shoe box is inside. To Riley, she tosses a very pink, very Victoria's Secret bag.
Sue laughs. "I'm halfmoon, yes." The very last part of the statement earns an uptick of brow, but the Fury continues nonetheless. "Dunno, though. It depends on what parts of being a halfmoon you're talking about. I'm not exactly fond of the Judging people part. Did that back in Golden Gate for my Rite, and once more after before I left, and--" then Dagny enters, and there's a tentative, wide grin offered to the Get. "Dagny-rhya!" The greeting is offered and the bag is taken. "Shoes? Um, thanks." It's genuine, if a little surprised that she'd do that for him, and he withdraws the shoebox, beginning to open it and turning back to Riley. The Victoria's Secret bag is just flatly ignored, or maybe not even noticed as if it was anything out of the ordinary to begin with. "Anyway. Why recently, if I may ask, Riley-rhya?"
The conversation gets put quite on hold by the arrival of Dagny. The ragabash's eyes track her with lifted brows as she jams on in, and even further when a bag is abruptly flung in her direction. The good old 'catching' instinct doesn't fail Riley here, but once she's clutching the iconic pink bag in hand, she has the chance to read the black-on-pink text and her brows lower, eyes going momentarily squinty-eyed. "Oh, Dagny," The deadpan is palpable, "You really, really shouldn't have." Before she bothers to overreact, though, she at least has the decency to peer inside, sifting past the single layer of thin gift paper that's within, head tilted slightly to the side during the process.
"Oh, think nothing of it." Dagny remarks in a casual fashion. She then plunks down in an arm chair and drops the other bags beside her. With a sigh she folds a leg over the other and relaxes. "There are so many benefits to being a ragey beast of meat and hair. One of them is, I usually get the whole store to myself when I go somewhere. No weird looks. No annoying sales people. It makes them even more nervous when I smile and act bouncy at them." She turns her head toward Sue to watch the boy with the box. "I thought those might be a bit better than what you're currently stuck with."
Sue opens the shoebox, pulling out the pair of boots--which look like hooves, and are designed to hold someone's weight on the ball of their feet--and holding them up, then putting them and standing up. There's a moment of evident and visible hesitation, before Sue moves over and hugs Dagny. Tightly. "Those are awesome," he states.
If there's something akin to a mental sigh of relief, that's visible on Riley's features the instant she spies what all is contained within her bag. She doesn't go pulling them out to examine them more closely, but the sarcasm appears to flee from her features, and the girl is shot a more grateful look. "Thanks." She manages more honestly, "I have some of the normal kind, but these'll be a big help for when the situation calls for it." She briefly rustles around some, and then squints. She shifts the bag about a bit and lifts a brow, and goes back to regarding Dagny darkly. "...Seriously?" She fishes out a lacey red bra, hanging it from one finger before she rather immediately notes that the cup size is way too large. Realizing her mistake, and still seeing Sue's back turned, she shoves it right back into the bag, flustered. "Nevermind. Nevermind. 'Preciate it again. Good choices." She swallows, "All around."
The hug seems to surprise the Get, and she 'oofs' slightly before wrapping her arms around the metis and giving him a squeeze of her own. "You're very welcome. If those don't work, I'll find someone with a lathe and I'll turn out a decent walking stick for ya." Riley's reaction is unexpected. Dagny looks over at him over the Metis' shoulder and flushes faintly. "Yea, I'll.. get that one back from you later. I forgot to take that one out." She coughs slightly, and lets Sue up. She eyes his feet. "Try walkin' in 'em a bit. See how the balance is." To Riley, in the meantime, she asks, "How was your head this morning?"
Sue returns to the pair of shoes, removing his current pair, which are heavy orthopedic shoes, and setting them aside. His feet are twisted and obviously malformed, although nonspecifically, and there's a moment of struggle in silence to get the boots on, but it's worth it for the way his face lights up once he's got them on. "These /feel better/, too," he states, even as he gets to his feet. It's clear that these require something more akin to his natural balance and posture, and he shifts his weight tentatively.
"Not as bad as you're probably expectin'," Riley grunts, "But yeah, bad enough that I moaned around for an hour or two, slurpin' down water like it was going of style." Riley scratches the corner of her cheek, still trying to shake that momentary undergarment-related shock, apparently. She clears her throat, more quietly murmuring, "Anyway, maybe I should go on a jog or somethin' soon. Break these in, and stuff. Bet it's less... annoying, and stuff." She seems to realize her overuse of 'stuff', and lamely adds, "And stuff." There's still that underlying current of awkwardness present in the ragabash's tone. That hasn't yet gone away while she's sober, it would seem.
"Just, you know. Hold onto something. Frankie'd be pissed at me if you went careening through her coffee table." Dagny warns gently. She looks back over to Riley with full attention. Nodding at the reply, she clears her throat a bit and says, "I.. Have a trick to them. It might help you. With like.. putting them on." She looks everywhere in the room, now, except at Riley. "Sue, watch out for the edge of the rug, there!"
Sue holds on to the back of the chair he just got up from, and nods. "I'm being careful," he assures, and though there's a moment of unsteadiness, Sue catches his balance and his footing, and steps carefully onto the rug, taking a few more steps. There's a gigantic grin for Dagny. "Seriously, these rock, Dagny-rhya. I think I'll keep the hiking pole a bit just while I'm getting used to them, but they're awesome. They feel right." A pause. "Aunt April will laugh, but let her."
Riley ends up being quiet and watching Sue and Dagny for a moment. The exchange brings a little smile to her lips, and she closes her eyes, giving a gentle little shake of her head before fixing her gaze back on Dagny. "Swear, you're such a Mom. You sure you're not some weird, multi-classing Garou? Get and Coggie all rolled into one? You obviously skipped the bit about taking an experience penalty, Dagny-rhya." Her expression is almost uncharacteristically warm, and scarcely even resembles the caged-up, bored face she'd been wearing just a moment ago for Sue.
Dagny snorts at mention of April laughing. "Just wear longer pants, it'll cover most of 'em up if you do." Dag!Logic at its finest. The Get continues to monitor Sue's baby steps with a careful eye. It isn't until Riley says something about multi-classing that Dagny shoots the Walker a -look-. A rather nasty, serious look. "You need a reminder of how Get I am?"
Sue is taking a few more confident steps, now, and he steps out of the line-of-sight between Dagny and Riley, bending his knees. There's a tiny hint of unsteadiness left in his steps, but it's nothing in comparison to the usual of without the hiking pole. Or even his usual balance with it. "Yeah. I can get longer pants pretty easy," he asserts.
Blink. The warmth in the ragabash's expression slips away almost immediately as she's made the target of that sour look. She draws a long breath and lets it out, frowning. "No more than you need a reminder of how Ragabash I am. It was a joke, and a compliment, and what's more, I know that you know that." She squints, "So, what gives with that reaction?"
The Get gives him a longer stare, hard. Then her lips fly up into a devious smirk. "Totally had you going." Dag relaxes back into the chair looking very pleased with herself. Sue's return has her looking over at the metis with perhaps a bit of pride. At the very least, joy. "How's the pain level with 'em?" The hand closes to Riley flexes, the knuckles giving some pops when they extend and curl.
Sue walks about the living room a little bit more, and then moves over to the table and grabs his can of soda again. "It's better than it normally is," he decides, after some consideration and moving back to sit down on a chair. He looks over at Dagny, and offers an explanation that he hadn't mentioned before, quietly. "I'm missing a whole /bone/ that's supposed to be in my feet in this form, so. Better--improvement--is good."
"Hmn." Riley snorts, leaning back into the couch and rolling her eyes upward, "Yeah, well. 'You or not, s'been awhile. You could tell me you renounced to theurge and I'd have to take it at face value if you hadn't been introducing yourself all over the place. Not the least of which cuz you're fuckin' scary when you throw around those glares." Riley's attention zeroes in on Sue, and she gives an empathetic wince. "Sounds like a pain in the dick." She really seems wedded to that phrase tonight.
Since this is the first time Dagny has actually heard Riley use thay phrase, the Get gives him a long look that is, for the most part, a bit uncomfortable. And a bit skeptical. The look is schooled into one of utter calm and contentment, however, as she looks back at Sue. "That explains that. Those boots will probably need some breaking in, but don't push it too far too fast. Y'might make it worse if you're over enthusiastic about it." After a moment, she looks at Riley and quirks a brow. "A Theurge? Really? I.. can't see that. At all. Like.. Ever."
The repeated use of the phrase 'pain in the dick' earns a brow-raise from Sue, again like the first time that Riley'd done so. "Yeah. I'm gonna be careful about it," Sue says, and then glances down at them. "Huh. Guess I should Dedicate them, too. Either of you have a knife by any chance, Dagny-rhya, Riley-rhya?"
Riley rolls her shoulders in a shrug, obliviously neglectin the repeated odd looks of her usage of said phrase. She yawns, "Yeah, right up there with Ragabash for auspices I'd completely fail to believe you'd fit. S'why it was perfect, I feel."
Someone stomping up to the rear door of the house can be heard from those in the kitchen, followed by a bit of a puase before the rear door itself is shoved open, the aperature now filled with a massive Get Jarl, boots now in hand. These are set by the door as it closes behind him. He takes a brief moment to survey the place before entering further.
"What, you don't think I'm clever enough to be a Raggi?" Dag asks. She holds her hand out for Sue's. When the Metis obliges and puts his hand in hers, Dagny takes his index finger and, instead of using a knife, turns her head and uses one of her canines to prick a small incision into the skin. The action is quick, and as soon as some blood forms on his skin, she releases his hand. Without looking up, she figures she's going to get weird looks and so, preemptively states, "I sharpened them. In Norway." After a moment, she looks at Riley and squints. "You would totally be a rad Philo." The crashing and bumping gives Dag pause and she turns to see the half-giant enter the room. Without wasting time, the Galliard asks, "Did Morgan get in touch with you?"
Sue does, in fact, give Dagny an odd look, but it's followed by an appreciative look as he bends, drawing a quick series of glyphs with the blood on the boots, and his attention is clearly on that rather than the conversation--or Owen's arrival, which gets a nod of distracted greeting from the metis.
That suggestion gets an immediate bark of laughter from Riley, "'Cleverness' nothing. You're a lotta things, Dag, but subtle i'n't one of them. You forget, I've seen you tryin' to be stealthy." Riley is seated on the couch, a Victoria's Secret bag settled next to her. The sounds of others arriving steals some of the amusement from her features. In fact, she looks rather on-edge at the sudden sound of stomping and the like, her body tensing up way more than it should.
Owen peers into the den for a moment more, matching names to faces as he can, before simply shaking his head a little negatively in answer to the other Get. He then makess his way across the kitchen to go digging through the fridge.
There's a thump outside, and then eventually Frankie comes in the front door, dusting her hands off. "That kid does good work," she says to no one in particular, as she sticks her bag in the hall. "Hi."
"Ah, yes. The Bear Trap." Dagny says in an aside to Riley. "In the grand scheme of things, I'd much rather be a viking than a ninja. We have cooler hats." Owen's negatory gets an acknowledging 'hn'. Dagny beams as Frankie enters and offers the woman a wave before raising her voice so that she can be heard by the Get in the kitchen. "Well, then. You'll be happy to know I was checked for Wyrms and given a clean bill of health. I also spoke with Silvertip and he's stated that I'm still a full member of the Sept and am not required to do chiminage." Once more to Frankie, Dag turns and digs in one of the many shopping bags at her feet. "I brought that CD I was telling you about." Plucking it out of the bag she stands and holds it out for the Kin. "I'll understand if folk metal isn't your thing. Agmund's voice kind of gets raspy when he goes into the screamy bits, but the rest of the time he's pretty solid."
When she unwinds enough from the Get's blustery entrance, Riley clears her throat and tilts the pink bag on it's side, shedding her oversized coat for the sole purpose of draping it over the potential source of embarrassment and hopefully nipping it in the bud early. Her eyes follow after Owen's retreating form, and then slide over to Frankie's approaching one. She lamely tilts her head, raising a hand. "Uh, hey." That seems to be her contribution to the conversation thus far, her relative disquiet still not entirely settled.
It's not Jacey's usual entrance, this time she comes down the stairs with a pair of grungy shoes in hand. She at least looks somewhat cleaner, if still rumpled. Her descent slows as she nears the bottom, stopping completely once her feet are on the floor proper, looking at the already semi-full room in some surprise.
Sue watches Dagny as she speaks, stretching his legs out in front of him. The boots he's currently wearing are a bit odd, rather hoof-shaped. "Hi," is offered to Frankie, but Sue's gaze flicks between the kitchen and Dagny, otherwise silent.
"Oh, hey, thanks," Frankie says with clear eagerness, and takes the CD, before glancing back at Owen in the kitchen, and back to Dagny. "There was a doubt?" she asks in confusion, before settling into a crouch to put the CD away in her bag. "Frankie, by the way. Get Kin," she tells Sue, and Riley.
Owen can be heard pausing briefly in his rummaging, the clinking of glasses silencing for what seems an irritable moment, before it's followed by the sound of a beer bottle popping open and the fridge door slamming shut. Owen eventually reappears in the frame of the door leading from the kitchen, frowning now, as he looks straight to Dagny. "Welcome back," he finally states, a little irrately. "But there's still something you got to give."
"Well." Dagny begins her reply to Frankie. "Since the Jarl is new, and didn't know me previously, he voiced certain concerns." When Jacey appears, Dagny gives the girl a thumbs up. Seated in the armchair as she is, the Galliard has to roll her head back to see the other Get as he enters the room. His welcome is given a bright, beaming smile. "Thank you." The later comment earns the Jarl a bat from her lashes. "Anything for your smiling self. What'll it be?"
Riley seems to be settling down considerably with every moment that doesn't threaten violence upon her. Those are usually the prefered moments. The ragabash eases back agaisnt the couch cushions, a small smile showing for Frankie. "Nice to meet ya. Between you and Sue here, I'll be misplacing pronouns left and right." Her smile widens into a well-intended grin. "Name's Riley. Glass Walker. Fostern. Ragabash. Digger. Listener. Runner. Prince with a Swift Warning." Here, she gives a throaty chuckle at her own joke.
Jacey offers a small smile to Sue and a nod to Frankie. "H'lo, Dagny-rhya, Riley-rhya," she offers, stepping away from the stairway. There's a beat of hesitation that's followed quickly with a nod to the Ahroun. "Owen-rhya," sounds more distant, as if only offered as is required by protocol.
"Pleased," Frankie says to Riley. "I was identifying you as Drunk Gal in my head, before, and that's no good. I've been Frankie most of my life, so the pronouns just work out in the end." She finishes putting her gift away, then looks at Owen, curious.
Owen takes a moment, apparently reigning something in mentally. "I was Fostern before some of those now present were even born. I was Jarl in these lands before your name was ever heard of hear. As a galliard, I would have thought you'd know that." He takes a pull from his bottle, Jacey getting the barest of glances, before speaking again. "I believe you at the least owe a story. One of what you did while away." That said, he looks to the kin and regards her in much the same way.
Sue laughs a little, clearly amused by Riley's comment. "I named myself Sue, it doesn't bother me," he assures Riley. However, Owen speaking has Sue tensing ever so slightly, and the philodox sits up slightly in the armchair he's chosen. "Nice to meet you, Frankie," he offers. "Sue Zahakis. Cliath and philodox of the Furies."
Riley looks amused for the barest of moments at the reference to her drunken conduct of the last evening, but it seems to wink out for no particular reason when she glances over to grin to Dagny. There, her brows furrow, and she distractedly mentions, "Yeah, I drank a little too much." Owen's words draw Riley's full focus, and both of her brows knit upward at the proclamation. She looks very much like she's chewing on a witty retort, but ultimately doesn't voice it. Wisdom!
Dagny gives a slow blink to Owen for a moment before she purses her lips. With a sigh she shrugs a shoulder and says, almost gently, "No one ever talked about an Owen while I was around. Signe and Emma, yes. Never heard of you before the other day when I met you in the kitchen." Fixing her head back into its natural place (that is, upright and not leaning back), Dagny looks at the room, and says, "Providing my audience has no objections, I think tonight's as good a night for a story as any. I'll understand if any of you want to run away now."
Jacey sinks downward, eyes dropping to the floor as she lowers herself to sit on the bottommost step. Once seated, she looks up again, turning her attention onto Dagny.
"And meanwhile, I haven't a clue who Signe is, which sort of bothers me," Frankie says, as she rises from her crouch. She looks at Owen in confusion, though, as he regards her. Dubious looks, she is apparently a conoisseur of, as she says, tentatively, "You know me. Don't you?" But she soon concludes, on the heels of this, "No, you don't. The heck? I guess I've been more of a hermit, writing this last book, than I thought. Frankie Capitanos. Or, Sigrun Frederika Olrunsdottir, if you want the long version. Kin of the Get of Fenris, daughter of Olrun Fenrir's Spirit, may she enjoy her time in Valhalla, and Gunnar Hardrada." She glances upward and around fondly, then back to Owen. "Place's mine. Gift to the Sept."
Owen stares a couple daggers at Dagny and something said, followed by a quick glance at his bottle as though contemplating turning it into a shiv. Instead, though, he looks back up towards the kinswoman. "A face to the name. It is good to finally meet you." He gives a short, stiff bow. "Owen Hollsinger. Wildfire, Gifted of Fenris. Adren Modi and Jarl of the Fenrir. Formerly a child Fenris, Weasel, Black Unicorn, Wyvern, Hrafn, and twice of Wolverine. Rited in the Sept of the Sentinel but once and again full member of the Sept of the Hidden Walk, once the Wheel Renewed, where I stand as guard outside of the Guardian Pack. Grandson of Ule Gathering-Storm Hollsinger, Skald and warrior of the blitzkreig then later hero of the retaking of Dresden, himself a great grandchild of Otto Dragon-Thane Von-Heisling, Modi during the rise of Prussia. I am Destroyer of the Rust-Belt slasher, Bester of the Nightmare in the River, Slayer of the Grey-Sky Dragon, Cleanser of Cabled-Lightning, Hunter in the Far Reaches, Feaster at the Table of the Great Wolf, Felt the Final Pain of Death, Slayer of the Justly Called Fallen, Alpha's Saviour, Singer of His Own Dirge, Stands Firm Against the Fallen, Gatherer of Trophies of the Thunder Lizards, Follower of the Four-Year Hunt, and Freer of the Lakes of York." He takes in a bit of a breath after that cadence, his faint German accent having broken out once more. He seems about to add something else, but instead just take another drink.
Riley shuffles subtly over and sits on her coat, which makes a rather un-coat-like crinkling noise when she does so, but she plays that off with a sharp clearing of her throat. Frankie is then given a snap of her fingers. "Oh! I didn't know you were the one that owned the place. You're --- well, I mean. You're you. But I've seen your books. They look--" And in that moment of panicked realization that she's talked herself into a corner, Riley's brain seizes the nearest adjective to come to mind and spits out, "--kinky?"
Sue doesn't seem terribly pleased by the moment where there's a chance of violence, but there's nothing actually said. Instead, the metis rises to his feet (perhaps just because he easily can), and sits back down on the floor where he can watch Dagny, now.
As Owen starts, and then continues, to talk, Frankie's attention sharpens on him. She seems to be absorbing it fully. "Huh. Well. Well met. You'll tell me a few of the tales to go along with the names, Owen, around a fire, someday? I'd like that." Her attention is dragged away by Riley, though. Apparently not insulted, and possibly even amused, she says, "No, fantasy. Kinky, I've done, too, if you want to borrow a few. They suck, though. Wrote 'em when I was younger, to order. Meantime --" She glances over at Dagny. "Not planning on running away."
"Perhaps how I saved this Caern. It seems folks have forgotten. But I'll gladly set time for our kin." Owen then turns to regard the Galliard as she's about to do her Galliardly thing.
Riley gives a gentle little grin at Frankie's response, waving a hand as though to indicate that she'll pass. In the meantime, Owen is considered a second time, her head craning for a moment until Dagny interrupts her thought processes with her own tale.
Jacey scoots off the step, leaving her shoes carefully behind. She edges along the floor quietly, moving to place herself beside Sue without really turning her attention off from Dagny.
Remaining respectfully quiet while Owen introduces himself, at length, to Frankie, Dagny grabs a bottle of water from one of her bags and takes a long swig of it. When Jacey scoots, Dagny points at her and says, "Consider this an impromptu lesson." When the room seems to calm down and grow expectant, she offers the gathered an appreciative bow of her head. "There were hundreds." Dagny begins. For a moment, her expression is far, far away when her head comes up. "Several hundreds; their faces contorted, mouths open so wide they looked like swollen, red gashes against their pale skin. Some wore paint on their faces, blood red. All of them were trashing like an angry sea; limbs flailing, fists all but hammering down on one another. Scores of bodies moving in unison, all scrabbling to get to us."
The Galliard rises, moving to sit in a perched position on the arm of the chair she had been sunk into. Propping her foot up on the cushion, she rubbed her jaw and looked to the ceiling, as if using it to trigger memory. "Despite the fact that we five had a handful waiting behind us, it was we, alone, that were expected to defeat the howling horde that sprawled ahead against the snow. We had been sent to that end." The Skald closes her eyes and allows a fangy grin to stretch over her face as she remembers. "The sound was glorious. A chorus of bloodthirst greeted us as we strode forward. Nokvi Steel-Gleams-Red, son of Hala Jarl-Maker. Virta, Son of Uld Rime-Gjallr. Abjorn, son of Jarl Thorvalis - He who Breaks the Bonds of the Great Wolf. Agmund, son of Gorr. Vragi Gold-Bristle, son of Thengal." She pauses and looks around the room. "All Fenrir. Three of which were Kin, armed to the teeth and bathed in steel. The midnight sun shown down on us as we leapt toward the fray. Agmund, who wielded no weapon but the fists Fenrir gave him at his birth, roared against the surging throng." Some may notice Dagny's foot has started tapping. "The battle had begun. The countryside erupted in an unholy din."
"Abjorn slammed his hammers into the waiting bodies again and again; instead of recoiling, the mass of crazed fools cried out for more. Virta drove forward, bloodied axe in hand as he cut through bodies left and right. They fell before him like mewling babes, their painted faces pointing to the heavens. A carpet of red before me, I moved to the right, swinging my hammer in a singing arc. I saw bodies rise and fall, lofted and thrown by their own ilk. There was no rhyme or reason to their actions, no loyalty to one another.. only a common goal. Swallowing us whole."
Dagny clears her throat and leans back on the arm of the couch, brows knitting. By this point in her story, the Get's voice has reached a full, tolling boom of one who means to command the room in its entirety. "It is difficult to recall just how long we chiseled away at them. How much red there was, oh.. the snow was soaked with red.. trampled beneath their feet, pressed into Gaia's waiting lips. Our offering. With a burst of rage, we were in their minds and in their bodies, feeling their pulse and forcing them to sway beneath our onslaught. A blur of beautiful weapons, limbs; a thunder behind us so heavy it rattled our very bones and those of the horde before us.. And just when the battle reached a fever's pitch of chaotic proportions.." Dagny trails off..
Owen simply listens. He doesn't appear rapt or swayed, bored, or simply going through motions. He is, simply, listening.
Frankie seems to be catching Dagny's rhythm, as her own toe starts tapping. But she seems not to notice that she's doing it, as she listens.
Jacey offers a very quiet, "Yes, Dagny-rhya," along with a nod. Something in her expression saying she'd planned on nothing less than an impromptu lesson, even if the elder Galliard hadn't proclaimed it to be. She listens attentively, the rest of the room may well not exist while the tale is woven. Not just the words, but the measure and tone are given consideration, steady concentration marked on the girl's face while Dagny speaks.
The attention that Sue pays to Dagny's words is definitely rapt, with the attitude of one who enjoys such tellings immensely, and there is a faint smile on his face as he listens.
"..The thunder burst in a bone-shattering boom. It provided template for the final lashes of each of our weapons. In unison we struck out once, twice, thrice.. The third and final blow punctuated by that deep bass again." Dagny sighs almost wistfully and opens her eyes, looking at the ceiling. "And then, with almost angelic reverence, Abjorn took his booted foot off of the bass pedal and lowered his drumsticks. The crowd hesitated a moment, as if it fully expected us to drive back into a break neck pace. We all bowed our heads as they exploded into thunderous applause and went completely bananas." The Galliard reaches down and finds her water bottle. She takes a little sip and looks around at them. "Hell of a concert, y'shoulda seen it."
Riley blinks her eyes several times and then falls off of her coat/victoria's secret bag perch, crowing with laughter.
Frankie says "Ha," and glances toward her bag, evidently even gladder to have the CD, now.
Jacey's mouth pulls up on one side, grinning as the story winds to an end.
Sue grins somewhat as well, clapping his hands together quietly a few times in evident amusement as he looks over at Dagny.
Owen's face is unreadable for a time as the story draws to an end, eventually the plain stoicism broken as he sucks on a tooth and then a pull from his bottle. He reaches behind him for a moment inside of his jacket, eventually pulling out an unadorned flask. He looks at it for a moment before tossing it across the room towards Dagny, still without much expression on his face.
With polite thanks, Dagny bows her head and holds her hands up. "You're too kind." Movement from Owen has her turning to look at the Jarl. She catches the flask neatly and looks at it. Her eyes alone skirt back to him as she unscrews the lid and takes a cursory sniff of the contents. Before taking a drink, she reaches down into the mass of bags. Her backpack is there somewhere. She unzips it and withdraws a small wine skin and tosses it back at the Modi. "Awakened mead from Norway. Aged three years. Touch of rose hips to it. Best served at room temperature. Which that is." After that, she tips the flask against her lips and takes a sip.
Frankie tells Owen, "By the way, Dagny'll be taking care of the place while I'm not around, when I'm not around, which is, evidently, fairly often." Then she leaves her pack there, and goes to get something in the kitchen.
Having taken far too much mirth out of the telling of that story, Riley pulls herself still-laughing from the couch to look to Dagny... and her eyes zero in on the mead as it appears. Biting down any further laughter with great effort, the ragabash nearly chokes out, "I can vouch for the drink. Tasty and strong."
The story over, Jacey stands and retreats back to the staircase with a look of 'Still more work to do'. She offers quiet apologies to the elder Garou first, then the others, after she's gathered her shoes. No wait for response is made, though, the girl makes for the front door quietly, to avoid further interruptions.
Sue gives Jacey a faint wave as she departs, leaning against the chair he's sitting in front of, and seemingly perfectly content to remain where he's seated on the floor.
Owen responds in kind. "Family recipe. Not telling you shit about it, except that it's twenty-five years old." One quick sniff, then a pull from the skin, he nods appreciatively. "Welcome back," he repeats, then turns back to the kitchen, incidentally following the kin.
Tippin the flask back down, Dagny's brows inch up a ways on her forehead. She gives the flask a very different look, having tasted the precious contents. She screws the lid back on and tucks the flask into her shirt in a perfect, natural holder. "And to you as well." She responds to Owen before he moves to the kitchen. With that out of the way, she glances over to Riley and Sue. "Liked that, didja? I mean it, hell of a concert. Most bloody noses and broken ribs at a concert, I think the paper said."
Frankie gets a root beer out of the fridge, and glances back at Owen. "Want one?"
Riley's eyes are alive with fiery amusement. She surges up from the couch and crosses over to where Dagny stands, and socks her one in the shoulder, teeth on full display, "'Be fucked if I didn't miss the way you weave a tale. Nice twist. Didn't notice where it was going. That'll teach me." Her smile becomes a little bit more extortionary, "So, there's more of that mead left, yeah?"
Owen had just set his empty by the recycling bin. "No thanks," he answers, a polite smile on his face that looks out of place on him. "I just need to go catch dinner." He is soon fetching his boots.
Sue just nods, once. The sheer number of people seems to have gotten it to the point where the metis is unwilling to be talkative, resorting to sitting there and not drawing attention to himself in the quietest fashion possible. That, or he's too fascinated by his new shoes, which well could be.
Frankie salutes the Ahroun with her bottle, and heads out the back door ahead of him, holding it open for him in return. Since her bike doesn't start up, she's evidently just taking a break outside. A long one.
Dagny rolls with the punch to her shoulder and delivers one of her own to Riley's. It's no where near full bore, as if the Get pulled back at the last second. "Shame on you! Your new moon brain shoulda seen it coming. I'll chalk it off to me maybe bein' so rad at story telling I could take a shit and twist it so it sounded like a war saga. Which reminds me." Dagny leans over and looks into the kitchen. "Hey, Frankie. Do you mind if I move my shit into the big bedroom and take it over while I'm here?" No response. The Galliard huhs, discovering a lack of Frankie in the kitchen. "Meh, I'll email her."
Riley merely smirks as she's retalliated against. "/Should/ you spin the Epic of The Bowel Movement, warn me ahead of time, so I don't get too invested."
Sue watches Riley for a moment, in a considering fashion, but then the metis just leans back and looks up at the ceiling.
"By the time you realize you've been drawn into a fantastic fable of fecal fame, it will be too late." Dagny leans to the side and sinks back into the arm chair completely, though at the wrong angle. Her legs drape over one arm while her back is against the other. "One of these days, I oughta make you tell me about shit you did in the Green. I'm very, very curious."
"And one of these days, I'll get around to it." Riley smirks, doubling back to her couch of choice. Which happens to be the only couch, but hey. "I assure you, it's not half the excitement that this place sees. Huge, healthy stept like the Green, they have things pretty much under control at all times. Lower-ranked as I was, I didn't see a whole lot of epic-story-worthy stuff. A lot of minor fomori, a lot of patrolling, and a lot of herding drunk civis on the ferry and the subway. Promise, though, I'll tell you about the interesting stuff when my head's more together, and not... on other things." Her smile looks a little bit strained after those last three words. "But yeah, I promise."
Sue adjusts his seated position, and seems perhaps to be listening to the conversation at hand, but still Sue just keeps with the being quiet, though he does look up and his shoulders ease a little when he notices that it's back to just being Dagny and Riley in the room.
There's a twitch at the side of Dagny's face, as if her ear tried to do a lupine back-turn for a moment. "Things will get better." Now that the room has emptied of others, Dagny relaxes a fair bit. The fun-loving mama bear has returned. "Do you.. want me to go with you when you talk to Melodie?" Her brows knit a bit as she awaits Riley's answer.
Riley glances to Sue, and then back to Dagny. She closes her eyes simply, and gives a little shake of her head, "Mel's good people. And... I know I already told you the whole thing, but it's already a hard enough thing to tell for the half-dozenth time, let alone with an audience... even if that audience is you." She swallows, "My decision. My responsibility to deal with, as much as I appreciate your offer. As ever."
Sue just makes a tiny 'erk' sound, and moves to get to his feet, albeit slowly. Riley gets a concerned furrow of brow from the young halfmoon, but no audible question.
Dagny nods at Riley a few times. "I can appreciate that. You know I'm just going to be pacing a moat around the place while you do talk to her, though." Dagny glances back toward the kitchen. After a moment, she takes the flask out from between her sweater kittens and dangles it at Riley. "You wanna taste? Stuff's actually stronger than mine."
Flask and Get both are giving a lingering look before Riley ends up shaking her head. "Actually, I should do myself a favor and turn in. If I fall asleep on this couch again, I'm gonna have to spend time in form just to get the pain out of my back again." She rises, and starts to head off - but then immediately doubles back and sheepishly collects her coat and the Victoria's Secret bag first. "And thanks again for these. I'm hopeless at deciphering the numbers and letters on my own. Anyways... yeah. Bed. Bed's good."
Sue looks over at Riley. "G'night, Riley-rhya," is offered, quietly, and then the metis moves to sit on the now-vacated couch. Evidently, he's getting used to the shoes, the movements are a lot more certain than his earlier tentative steps when he first put them on.
"Word to the wise. Clasp it first, then pull it on like a tank top. Creative adjustment afterwards, but it's a hell of a lot easier than trying to Spiderman your way in." Dagny offers as curtly and non-awkwardly as possible. Which, given the subject, is still pretty awkward. After a while, she samples another sip from the flask and shakes her head. When Sue speaks again, she looks over at the Metis. "So. What'd /you/ think of the story?"
There's a brief look of a moderately embarrassed ragabash face, and she mumbles, "Tank-top. Check!" Before she's off.
Sue has the grace to keep quiet about the discussion of bras. Nothing he hasn't heard a million variations of before, really, he doesn't even miss a beat. "I liked it. Didn't see the end coming, you're a heck of a storyteller, Dagny-rhya," he responds, neither looking up, nor at Dagny.
The Get responds first with a small smile. Then it fades, and she arches a brow. "What's goin on, kiddo? You're all quiet on me again." She turns in the arm chair to get a better look at the metis.
Sue looks up, now, and halfway at Riley, and shakes his head, looking slightly abashed. "Oh. I was," he realises. "Sorry, Dagny-rhya," is offered, genuine in sentiment but also quite automatic, and then his mouth forms another 'oh' shape after the words are out of it, and the metis facepalms, and chuckles slightly, laughing at himself as the case might be.
"Just Dag, when it's just you and me. Well, Riley, too. Dag is fine. I know you respect me, you don't need to tack on the rhya crap all the time." The Get offers with a grin. "So what's goin' on? Seems like you've got somethin' on your mind."
Sue nods, once, and leans back into the couch, though he's careful to keep his feet off of the furniture. "I'll try? The -rhya stuff's kinda not entirely intentional too," Sue states. It's just the normal form of address, even if that's stiff, and formal. Now, at least, he manages to look over, conversationally and mostly at ease without all the people around. "Not much, actually. Saw Topsy-rhya earlier today, she's going to work with me on me learning to--or at least about the movements involved in--dance. She thinks it might help my balance and such as well."
~ Fade ~