Nick "Nicodemus" Dalton (
nick_garou) wrote2014-04-22 08:17 am
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Blah blah blah blah COUGAR!
Sunday, April 20--Back in town and a chat with Slug
I rolled back into St. Claire Sunday night, texted Emma I was back in town, pitted at the tenement, and managed to fall asleep on the lobby couch while hoping to run into Salem. Luck was not on my side: I ran into Slug. Carrying a rifle. In the lobby. With Colonel Mustard. (Except without Colonel Mustard.) After he assured me that shit was not about to hit the fan, he explained he was going to try and give the rifle to Riley, because it had sentimental meaning (dead friend?), and because he'd said some things earlier that had pissed Riley off. (Personally? She does seem to get pissed off relatively easily. And she seems to hit a lot when she's worked up about something. "Gentle" hits, but.... Garou. Sheesh.)
Slug and I then began discussing The Suits, and Slug talked about a plan that was surprisingly similar to one I had mentioned to Salem earlier--back before Pavel recommended just laying low, which I then communicated to Salem, who then communicated that to the sept. So when Slug started talking about what--to me--seemed like a feasible plan, I made damn certain to reinforce "You are saying Y, but Salem said X, and I support Salem." Earlier, Slug had been talking about how great it would be if he could just get one Suit to sit down and have a real, honest talk where the Suit would share all kinds of information about what they were doing, why, beliefs, etc. Nice in theory, I suppose. In practice? Likely not a good idea at all. But I think Slug was just speculating. Pie in the sky talk. And I pointed out that earlier, when he'd been talking about how easy it would be for a Spiral to take out the tenement via a gas main explosion from the sewers below, and how all it takes is to just find and track one garou to locate more and more and more.... I made a point of referencing what he'd said with respect to his own curiosity about The Suits. Going off the "do not interact with them" reservation could endanger the Walkers' safehouse, the Gnawer's dead library, the farmhouse, Harbor Park, and even the caern itself. I think he grokked things well enough to leave well enough alone. Which is good, because I didn't want to red flag him for Salem to talk to.
Slug also demonstrated his ability to communicate telepathically with Salem--and the rest of the pack--by having Salem text me (and knowing Salem had texted me) after I mentioned looking for him. He said that he sometimes slips and "hot mics" the rest of the pack, and that that can be a problem with emotional events or while gettin' it on. From him talking about how the telepathy works, it sounds like the spirit grants the pack that power and operates like a switchboard operator, so it basically gets to listen in on everything. Pack spirits? Kind of like Big Brother.
Note to self: Talk to Emma about accidental telepathic broadcasts over her pack connection, as I suspect there will be some gettin' it on pretty darn soon, and that could be... over-sharing.
I opted to just crash at the tenement that night--me and my old 5th floor apartment. I kind of miss being able to socialize more with the Walkers, but I do need my space, too. That could also be just the loneliness talking, as it's been several weeks since I've really interacted face-to-face with the people I know and care about.
Note to self: Mention to Salem that it might be a good idea to install cameras and motion sensors in the sewers beneath the safehouse.
Monday, April 21--Did someone throw a house party at my place and not invite me?
I got up at the asscrack of noonish and drove out to my place. Emma and Mr. Lee were there, chatting on the porch. Emma'd swiped one of my shirts. (Why do women all seem to do that?) They'd been talking about the Weaver and it's One Song, which seems like some sort of... maybe a hybridization of the pack chatting ability that Salem's pack members all have, but much subtler, and essentially propaganda? Borg-code? Something tells me it's not something I want to crack the code to and then start listening in on without taking substantial precautions.
In catching up about current events, it's sounding like Emma's going to go through with a toy story raid. Emma said Maddie was going to attempt something. (That didn't inspire tons of confidence, particular in the context of having just talked about this One Song.) I offered to help with mental/spiritual shielding. (I'm pretty sure I could shield--to some extent--one person. Ugh. You were just speaking of not inspiring tons of confidence, Nick?) And not to worry about me because I'd be helping remotely from, say, my 5th floor Safehouse apartment. Just have Riley or Salem check on me afterwards on the offchance that something happens. Emma declined, saying she'd feel terrible if something happened to me. I countered by pointing out how I'd feel if something happened to her and I had done nothing. She seemed to cave under that logic. I think that's one of the reasons why I like her so much: she /thinks/ and /reasons/. That's not exactly common across the board for the werewolves.
I excused myself to hit the store and restock the fridge with fresh fruits and veg (and some replacement camping supplies/equipment/foods), leaving Emma and Thomas to talk.
I am pretty damn certain Thomas figured out, with Emma in my place and wearing my t-shirt, that there's some monkey business between us.
Monday, April 21--Letting the cat out of the bag in front of Emma
Later that evening, I called Emma up and suggested we go hike out to Walker territory, restock the wares I kept in the cave there, and camp out and catch up. She agreed. We hoofed it in.
Emma told me that Slug had barely gotten into the chimera pack, she'd nearly bowed out because of him, and that he was on thin ice with the pack totem AND her--the latter because he didn't show her proper respect and, at times, slandered her. (This does not seem like a smart thing to do.) I pointed out that he is, after all, a ragabash. But.... There are limits, I guess. Also? Emma said that she's familiar with the whole pack telepathy thing and has had that in ever pack she's ever been in, so she's had lots of practice and is good about not letting things slip out accidentally for pack mates and the totem spirit to go "oooooooh!" over. Which, y'know, is good.
I talked about having gone off to do some trading--mostly bramblefruit--with another mage. She made some inquiries and I told her that, yes, he (I avoided using names as I know garou can track people down and Pavel would NOT be pleased) was sort of a newish mentor--not exactly a friend per se. Business acquaintance? I think we have that.
I explained to her that I didn't have a tradition (kind of like a tribe) like most mages do, so it was hard to get a mentor at all. I was sort of like a garou ronin, but not quite that bad off because mage traditions are not so rigid and exclusive ("sanctimonious" might be another word I could have used there) as garou tribes. And that I'd had offers to join a few traditions, but I'd declined. I also told her I didn't exactly advertise how closely I worked with the garou at times, largely because I'd probably be seen as insane or having a death wish--someone to avoid--because the garou don't exactly have the greatest reputations for being friendly, peaceful critters. But I wouldn't be surprised if a few people hadn't put two and two together. After all, I do have a growing reputation as someone to talk to about interacting and negotiating with garou. And it's probably saved a couple lives--garou and mage alike--over the years.
I told her about the chimera spirit sidekick I had freshly bound to me, courtesy of me trading some bramblefruit with my mentor. The chimera spirit doesn't seem to work for me like the pack totem works for Emma and her crew, but my chimera spirit is--I imagine--nowhere near as powerful. (It is teeny.) Maybe in the future, when the moon is a bit more favorable, she can meet it.
Then I told her about having also traded for a talisman that let me shapeshift into a cougar about once every two weeks. (It's not technically how the talisman works, but I didn't want to bore her with details and if I only use it once every two weeks that means I'll always have at least a single charge in it--for unexpected emergencies.) I think that took her by surprise. She said she'd been working hard to not shift around me then, out of the blue, suddenly I'm checking to see if I can shift around her. I can see how she'd been concerned, and frankly seeing her shift earlier on might have wigged me out enough that I'd have backed out of dating her at all, but.... I think I'm past that. And I told her as much.
We ditched gear, I shed clothes, prepped myself with a little Mind magic to shield against the pain I'd been warned about, and fired up the talisman.
Note to self: In the future, don't be standing on two legs when shifting to a four-legged form. You might fall over. (I did.)
I rather instantly regretted having Emma there to see me flop over, barely able to even sit back on my haunches....
Note to self: There is a technique to not sitting on your cougar balls. Be aware of it in the future.
Embarrassing. Very embarrassing. And after figuring out how to sit up and stand without falling over, it turns out that walking is a challenge, too. Emma--I used a subtle Mind effect so we could understand one another's languages and body gestures--claimed that the garou cubs had instinct to work with. I had none. Just a weirdly shaped alien body full of strange sensory inputs. Like getting out of a familiar car and then, with no experience at all, being put behind the wheel of an industrial tractor with no instruction manual available for reference. Emma was incredibly patient with me. I'd been hoping for a crazy, wild run through the forest. Feline parkour. But no. An hour or so before the sun rose, I'd managed to figure out how to walk with reasonable confidence. I'd also figured out the "I meant to do that" look--but only because I'd previously studied that look on LOLcat because I was curious what the hell was actually going through his head when I got that look. (It is, for the record, "I meant to do that. Comma. Human. Quit looking.")
Side note? Emma's wolf form has markings where her tattoos are--interesting--and is substantially smaller than a cougar. Er. Me-cougar? Cougar-me? It's weird trying to think of it as being me, and me being it, but not different things at all. I'm going to have to spend some time wrapping my brain around this issue of identity with a malleable form.
I deactivated the talisman after prepping myself for the shift again, back to human--naked in 40-something degrees--and joined the two sleeping bags into one larger one as hastily as I could. Emma and I both got in. I passed out, tired from the workout, before she did. We woke up in the late morning, enjoyed ourselves, took a walk around the area, enjoyed ourselves again, and then packed up, headed out, and went our separate ways.
She said she was "at least at the /like-like/ stage with me." I know I'm a little beyond that myself. I've just not wanted to say anything and jinx it. I'm nervous that everything is just going to blow up in my face.
I rolled back into St. Claire Sunday night, texted Emma I was back in town, pitted at the tenement, and managed to fall asleep on the lobby couch while hoping to run into Salem. Luck was not on my side: I ran into Slug. Carrying a rifle. In the lobby. With Colonel Mustard. (Except without Colonel Mustard.) After he assured me that shit was not about to hit the fan, he explained he was going to try and give the rifle to Riley, because it had sentimental meaning (dead friend?), and because he'd said some things earlier that had pissed Riley off. (Personally? She does seem to get pissed off relatively easily. And she seems to hit a lot when she's worked up about something. "Gentle" hits, but.... Garou. Sheesh.)
Slug and I then began discussing The Suits, and Slug talked about a plan that was surprisingly similar to one I had mentioned to Salem earlier--back before Pavel recommended just laying low, which I then communicated to Salem, who then communicated that to the sept. So when Slug started talking about what--to me--seemed like a feasible plan, I made damn certain to reinforce "You are saying Y, but Salem said X, and I support Salem." Earlier, Slug had been talking about how great it would be if he could just get one Suit to sit down and have a real, honest talk where the Suit would share all kinds of information about what they were doing, why, beliefs, etc. Nice in theory, I suppose. In practice? Likely not a good idea at all. But I think Slug was just speculating. Pie in the sky talk. And I pointed out that earlier, when he'd been talking about how easy it would be for a Spiral to take out the tenement via a gas main explosion from the sewers below, and how all it takes is to just find and track one garou to locate more and more and more.... I made a point of referencing what he'd said with respect to his own curiosity about The Suits. Going off the "do not interact with them" reservation could endanger the Walkers' safehouse, the Gnawer's dead library, the farmhouse, Harbor Park, and even the caern itself. I think he grokked things well enough to leave well enough alone. Which is good, because I didn't want to red flag him for Salem to talk to.
Slug also demonstrated his ability to communicate telepathically with Salem--and the rest of the pack--by having Salem text me (and knowing Salem had texted me) after I mentioned looking for him. He said that he sometimes slips and "hot mics" the rest of the pack, and that that can be a problem with emotional events or while gettin' it on. From him talking about how the telepathy works, it sounds like the spirit grants the pack that power and operates like a switchboard operator, so it basically gets to listen in on everything. Pack spirits? Kind of like Big Brother.
Note to self: Talk to Emma about accidental telepathic broadcasts over her pack connection, as I suspect there will be some gettin' it on pretty darn soon, and that could be... over-sharing.
I opted to just crash at the tenement that night--me and my old 5th floor apartment. I kind of miss being able to socialize more with the Walkers, but I do need my space, too. That could also be just the loneliness talking, as it's been several weeks since I've really interacted face-to-face with the people I know and care about.
Note to self: Mention to Salem that it might be a good idea to install cameras and motion sensors in the sewers beneath the safehouse.
Monday, April 21--Did someone throw a house party at my place and not invite me?
I got up at the asscrack of noonish and drove out to my place. Emma and Mr. Lee were there, chatting on the porch. Emma'd swiped one of my shirts. (Why do women all seem to do that?) They'd been talking about the Weaver and it's One Song, which seems like some sort of... maybe a hybridization of the pack chatting ability that Salem's pack members all have, but much subtler, and essentially propaganda? Borg-code? Something tells me it's not something I want to crack the code to and then start listening in on without taking substantial precautions.
In catching up about current events, it's sounding like Emma's going to go through with a toy story raid. Emma said Maddie was going to attempt something. (That didn't inspire tons of confidence, particular in the context of having just talked about this One Song.) I offered to help with mental/spiritual shielding. (I'm pretty sure I could shield--to some extent--one person. Ugh. You were just speaking of not inspiring tons of confidence, Nick?) And not to worry about me because I'd be helping remotely from, say, my 5th floor Safehouse apartment. Just have Riley or Salem check on me afterwards on the offchance that something happens. Emma declined, saying she'd feel terrible if something happened to me. I countered by pointing out how I'd feel if something happened to her and I had done nothing. She seemed to cave under that logic. I think that's one of the reasons why I like her so much: she /thinks/ and /reasons/. That's not exactly common across the board for the werewolves.
I excused myself to hit the store and restock the fridge with fresh fruits and veg (and some replacement camping supplies/equipment/foods), leaving Emma and Thomas to talk.
I am pretty damn certain Thomas figured out, with Emma in my place and wearing my t-shirt, that there's some monkey business between us.
Monday, April 21--Letting the cat out of the bag in front of Emma
Later that evening, I called Emma up and suggested we go hike out to Walker territory, restock the wares I kept in the cave there, and camp out and catch up. She agreed. We hoofed it in.
Emma told me that Slug had barely gotten into the chimera pack, she'd nearly bowed out because of him, and that he was on thin ice with the pack totem AND her--the latter because he didn't show her proper respect and, at times, slandered her. (This does not seem like a smart thing to do.) I pointed out that he is, after all, a ragabash. But.... There are limits, I guess. Also? Emma said that she's familiar with the whole pack telepathy thing and has had that in ever pack she's ever been in, so she's had lots of practice and is good about not letting things slip out accidentally for pack mates and the totem spirit to go "oooooooh!" over. Which, y'know, is good.
I talked about having gone off to do some trading--mostly bramblefruit--with another mage. She made some inquiries and I told her that, yes, he (I avoided using names as I know garou can track people down and Pavel would NOT be pleased) was sort of a newish mentor--not exactly a friend per se. Business acquaintance? I think we have that.
I explained to her that I didn't have a tradition (kind of like a tribe) like most mages do, so it was hard to get a mentor at all. I was sort of like a garou ronin, but not quite that bad off because mage traditions are not so rigid and exclusive ("sanctimonious" might be another word I could have used there) as garou tribes. And that I'd had offers to join a few traditions, but I'd declined. I also told her I didn't exactly advertise how closely I worked with the garou at times, largely because I'd probably be seen as insane or having a death wish--someone to avoid--because the garou don't exactly have the greatest reputations for being friendly, peaceful critters. But I wouldn't be surprised if a few people hadn't put two and two together. After all, I do have a growing reputation as someone to talk to about interacting and negotiating with garou. And it's probably saved a couple lives--garou and mage alike--over the years.
I told her about the chimera spirit sidekick I had freshly bound to me, courtesy of me trading some bramblefruit with my mentor. The chimera spirit doesn't seem to work for me like the pack totem works for Emma and her crew, but my chimera spirit is--I imagine--nowhere near as powerful. (It is teeny.) Maybe in the future, when the moon is a bit more favorable, she can meet it.
Then I told her about having also traded for a talisman that let me shapeshift into a cougar about once every two weeks. (It's not technically how the talisman works, but I didn't want to bore her with details and if I only use it once every two weeks that means I'll always have at least a single charge in it--for unexpected emergencies.) I think that took her by surprise. She said she'd been working hard to not shift around me then, out of the blue, suddenly I'm checking to see if I can shift around her. I can see how she'd been concerned, and frankly seeing her shift earlier on might have wigged me out enough that I'd have backed out of dating her at all, but.... I think I'm past that. And I told her as much.
We ditched gear, I shed clothes, prepped myself with a little Mind magic to shield against the pain I'd been warned about, and fired up the talisman.
Note to self: In the future, don't be standing on two legs when shifting to a four-legged form. You might fall over. (I did.)
I rather instantly regretted having Emma there to see me flop over, barely able to even sit back on my haunches....
Note to self: There is a technique to not sitting on your cougar balls. Be aware of it in the future.
Embarrassing. Very embarrassing. And after figuring out how to sit up and stand without falling over, it turns out that walking is a challenge, too. Emma--I used a subtle Mind effect so we could understand one another's languages and body gestures--claimed that the garou cubs had instinct to work with. I had none. Just a weirdly shaped alien body full of strange sensory inputs. Like getting out of a familiar car and then, with no experience at all, being put behind the wheel of an industrial tractor with no instruction manual available for reference. Emma was incredibly patient with me. I'd been hoping for a crazy, wild run through the forest. Feline parkour. But no. An hour or so before the sun rose, I'd managed to figure out how to walk with reasonable confidence. I'd also figured out the "I meant to do that" look--but only because I'd previously studied that look on LOLcat because I was curious what the hell was actually going through his head when I got that look. (It is, for the record, "I meant to do that. Comma. Human. Quit looking.")
Side note? Emma's wolf form has markings where her tattoos are--interesting--and is substantially smaller than a cougar. Er. Me-cougar? Cougar-me? It's weird trying to think of it as being me, and me being it, but not different things at all. I'm going to have to spend some time wrapping my brain around this issue of identity with a malleable form.
I deactivated the talisman after prepping myself for the shift again, back to human--naked in 40-something degrees--and joined the two sleeping bags into one larger one as hastily as I could. Emma and I both got in. I passed out, tired from the workout, before she did. We woke up in the late morning, enjoyed ourselves, took a walk around the area, enjoyed ourselves again, and then packed up, headed out, and went our separate ways.
She said she was "at least at the /like-like/ stage with me." I know I'm a little beyond that myself. I've just not wanted to say anything and jinx it. I'm nervous that everything is just going to blow up in my face.