Properly introduced.
Friday, 28 June 2013 16:30![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeremiah_garouJune 28, 2013
The moon is in the waning Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (65% full).
It's a sunny and warm afternoon, which finds Jeremiah camped out in his usual daytime spot in Harbor Park, under a tree where he can keep an eye on things. The Gnawer's a bit from a path, a slight ways from the main gathering of homeless in the park, a little closer to the fountain. And it's far too warm for the oversize jacket that he usually wears, so that and a rucksack are next to him, and the ahroun's got a beat-up hardcover book that he's reading. The ahroun practically radiates Rage, but not in any distinct or purposeful manner, at least. Just enough to keep the majority of the park-goers away from him.
Nicodemus enters the park from the north, tracking along the river's bank and pausing every so often to stoop, pick up a small rock, and send it zinging across the water's surface. He seems to have a real knack for skipping stones. It takes him a good ten minutes to travel half the length of the park, at which point he turns and begins heading west towards the fountain. As he climbs the bank and begins crossing the grass, he scans over the park to see who's present and what's going on. Spying Jeremiah, and recognizing him from the other day, Nick pauses for a moment and then redirects his path in that direction. His trendy-business-casual attire clashes starkly with the Gnawer's. When Jeremiah looks his way, he offers a muted hand-raise in greeting and slows up a bit, in case his presence is undesired.
Jeremiah sets one hand to hold his spot in his reading, and lifts his other hand in greeting. The young man seems to be ambivalent about the approach of the other, at least, leaning back against the tree. When he puts his hand down, he reaches and pulls a pack of cheap cigarettes from the pile of things, lighting one with a flick of a cheap plastic lighter before Nicodemus finishes approaching.
Nicodemus draws nearer. "Hey," he says by way of greeting. "Thanks for standing up for Val the other day. She's a friend. I appreciated it." Simple. Straightforward.
The Gnawer nods, looking at Nick and brow furrowing for a moment, before the expression eases into what must, for the ahroun, count as a smile. "Val's done me a few favours, time and again," Jeremiah says. He speaks quietly and carefully, but there's nothing that can disguise that his voice is squeaky, high, nasal, and whiny. Unnaturally so, almost. "I… owe her, she's been good to me."
Nicodemus takes a moment, studying Jeremiah, and eventually even crouching down so he's more on his level. "Val does a lot of people a lot of favors. You're…" He aborts what he was saying, then seemingly switches topics. "Have you been out to Wolf Woods National Park?"
Jeremiah puffs on the cigarette, and shakes his head. "Bit far," he responds. "Don't get out of the city much, and I tend… to stay west of the Scarred Forest, if I do. Up in the woods where I don't bother no one or step on no one's tail, or go where I's…" Then it's Jeremiah's turn to let the sentence fade off, and he shrugs. "Don't got a car. Don't want one."
Nicodemus nods slowly at this statement. "Family?" he inquires. Again, it's a simple question with a load of subtext. His head cocks slightly to one side, considering. "Fan of storms and crows, perchance?"
The young man doesn't get up, at least not entirely, but he scoffs, cigarette held in one hand so that he can glare and spit on the ground to the direction where Nicodemus isn't. "I knows what I look like. But. Fuck them," Jeremiah squeaks out, and that anger and Rage is so very obvious, but it's shadowed by so much more this time. Guilt, pain, grief, and all of those things fuel the Beast as well. "Fuck them and their lies an' deception an' treachery, all they never fucking did for th' rest of us. Mama Rat gave me an honest chance when they'd damn hung me out for the Wyrm to eat, hear? Thunder's no family of mine." Every so often as he talks now, the words are accented by what look to be sign language. And hey, if nothing else, maybe the Ahroun really is crazy.
Nicodemus slowly begins leaning back as the ahroun gets more angry and animated. "Gnawer," he says after it's over. "Nick Dalton. Kin to the Walker family. Sorry. I didn't know the history or what you'd been through. You've met the Gnawers in town yet? Are you new here? Or have we just not crossed paths before?"
Jeremiah takes a deep breath and settles back himself, shoulders lowering. He's got anger issues, but he's also got what seems to be a nearly iron willpower and ability to control himself, at least when he wants to. "Jeremiah. Called Bullfrog, named Lives-On. Cliath ahroun, and anruth—not a sept member," Jeremiah says, the clarification at the end with none of the bitterness of the explanation before. "An' yeah. Lefty-rhya knows I'm in town an' knows the deal."
"Jeremiah was a bullfrog?" Despite the ahroun's earlier anger, Nick manages a genuine smile. "I like it. You've got a sense of humor. I see why Val likes you. Anruth, huh?" He mulls that over a little, apparently comprehending the term's meaning. "Are you thinking of joining up with the locals? The Gnawers here seem pretty congenial and welcoming." He clearly has zero idea of Jeremiah's prior history—or current situation—with the sept.
The ahroun nods to the very first point. "Back 'fore I spoke English very well," he explains as far as the name goes. Now, he seems to speak English well enough, though it's a cross between Gnawer standard urban low-class, and almost hillspeak, the accent nigh impossible to pinpoint underneath the Jackal-voice. "Got named that, down in Vegas. It stuck." The Gnawer even does seem to have a sense of humour. "I like it." And then Jeremiah shakes his head. "I have things here. Then I's done, then I'll be on my way. Thinkin' Portland. Where Kaz is." There's a grin, almost fondness at the mention of the Gnawer metis.
Nicodemus nods knowingly, as if he also knows Kaz. "Kaz is good people. Her heart's in the right place. And Portland? I've been there a few times. Tons of culture and interesting things to do there. But… I'm not familiar at all with what goes on after dark, so to speak. Val helping you to get things done around here?" he inquires.
Jeremiah shrugs his shoulders. "Like I said. She did me a few favours. One when I got to town. Another… in another life, so to speak. While ago," and there's a definitive way that says that the second at least, Jeremiah's not willing to discuss, "an' so." Eventually, Jeremiah shakes his head. "My things to do are my own."
"I respect that," the Walker kin says in response to the Gnawer's statement. And then there's a bit of awkwardness as Nick seems to run out of tangents to talk about. "Well, I guess… Best of luck to you in your… the things you need to do. And, again, thanks for coming to Val's aid yesterday." He then strikes on a separate topic—of sorts. "So you know Mr. Lee, too? From the other day?"
"The Agent?" Jer says, a little bit quizzically. The Gnawer shakes his head, moving to pull another cigarette from the pack as the one he was smoking is nearly smoked all the way down. "Seen him, few times. 'Round the park, but I don' go near the rest," he gestures towards the main gathering of the homeless. "Scare them, you know?"
The earlier topic of discussion makes an appearance in the park and after a quick look around, Val starts to make her way towards the Gnawer and Mage. "Hey!" She greets once within earshot and lifts a hand in greeting. She has something in a cheap plastic bag in her other hand.
Jeremiah sits up a little bit further, finally parking his book on top of his jacket so that he has a free hand, and he waves over towards Val. Unlike the others, though, the Gnawer doesn't bother to raise his voice or speak at the moment, though he does seem interested in the answer to Nick's question, intently interested almost.
Val shakes her head. "Nope. Haven't seen angry man. That was a messy case to start with, but what can you do. Hopefully, he'll take some time and think about his life some," she adds with a faint smirk. "I've noticed that you smoke like a chimney these days Bullfrog," the small woman adds, pulling a full carton of cigarettes out of the cheap plastic bag and offering them to the Gnawer.
Nicodemus smiles at something Val said. "I tailed him for several blocks and, honestly, he seemed to have cooled off a bit. Didn't seem to be a threat." The smile fades. "Frankly, I was initially concerned he might take it out on someone, anyone, but…" He shrugs again. "Like I said, he seemed to have cooled off substantially. He probably started thinking about the shit his anger was going to get him into and the consequences thereof."
Jeremiah looks up at Val, and there's a genuine, gracious, if small smile. And it's a smile that's careful not to show teeth as the Gnawer nods and accepts the carton of cigarettes. "I do," he admits with a squeaky-toned huff. "The tobacco rite helps the rage." There's a pause, and Jeremiah continues, "Thank you, Val. I appreciate it." Jeremiah has a rucksack with him, one he seems to have acquired somewhere, and he takes it out from under the jacket to carefully put the cigarettes away then buckle the bag shut again. "Realised he might get angry at— at the wrong person one day, too, probably," Jeremiah adds.
"S'alright," Val says and rubs at one of her ears, as she looks between Nick and Jeremiah. "I appreciate the help, but I will admit that I was a bit worried about your temper there, for a bit. You two been properly introduced yet?" She asks, then lets her hand drop back down.
"We seem to have figured out family relations," Nick asides to Val. He nods to Jeremiah. "No shit. That guy had zero clue how close he was. And I suspect, if pressed, Val could have stomped his ass on her own." He pokes at Val with a finger. "Tough old bird."
Val sticks her tongue out at the Mage in response, then grins. "Yea right. I'm five foot tall on a good day and I usually get smaller, not bigger. Oh, and Nick, I think you're right about the deposit on my place. Unless I manage to get the repair work done before I move out. One of the kids figured out that she can poke holes in drywall, then showed the others how to do it. You should she the mess they made."
The Gnawer settles his jacket over the pack again, taking a slow puff from the cigarette he has lit. Yep, he smokes like a goddamn chimney, but it really does seem to help. Especially comparatively with the ticking time bomb once known as Andrei. "I was fine," he says to Val, with a grin, a little fiercer of an expression. "I's… got a bit pissed when he tried to shove me but it's fine." There's silence, as though Jer is considering whether to keep speaking, and then he does, apparently used to the Jackal-squeak. "Probably scared him all the more. Haven't frenzied outside of being dead to start with since I's frenzied on the Warder and worked with Salem-rhya on the… problems I'd been having back then."
A bit more of a pause, and Jer looks over to Val once more. "I's can fix things like that," he offers to her. "Holes is mostly drywall patching stuff. Get it at the hardware store type, and I'd be happy to help out."
Nicodemus looks from Val to Jeremiah, wrinkling his brow slightly in thought at some of the contextless revelations and allowing his mind to dwell on possibilities. "Wow," he breathes in Jeremiah's direction. "You know, I'd ask, because that sounds like one hell of a story, but it seems to be in the past and unpleasant so…" He shrugs. "All I needed to know was that the sept seemed okay with it, so…" And he does indeed just drop it right there. He looks to Val, then Jeremiah, then Val again. "I'd offer to lend a hand, but I'm tied up all of next week. And I suspect you've got an end-of-the-month move-out date?"
"End of the month move out date," Val confirms. "But, it's the end of next month. I'm having some work done on the Snakes and Lattes roof. Putting in a garden and a roost for the kids, which will honestly make them happier than having to head in an out of the apartment via a cat door. Lots more open space. Also, it's gonna be a bout six months before they completely strike out on their own. I don't think I could take six months of one them either turning on the taps constantly, or flushing the toilet. Which they find absolutely fascinating. If you guys want to help, I'll take whatever I can get. Can let you know when everything is moved out. And Bullfrog, no offense, but when in Gaia's name are you gonna get your normal voice back?"
"When hell freezes?" Jeremiah squeaks out a laugh and then takes a breath in, one that's steadying and calming, and glances up to Val and shakes his head, then holds up two fingers. "Two options," he says, a little more seriously. "One? I leave. Forever. I leave forever, I go to Salem-rhya and he'll call Speaks-through-Pager an' she'll undo it." There's a pause, and he continues. "Two, somethin' happens here, and I'm a big damn hero in service to the Sept. In the mean time, I's tryin' to help out as best I can, here. Put things right as best I can that I didn't get the chance to."
"In that case, I'll see about swinging by and… I've got a concoction to help reduce any smells and clean off any bird poop that's welded itself to the floors. Or walls." Nick waits a bit, then adds, "Or ceiling, if the little buggers managed that somehow." He looks to Bullfrog curiously, as if not having known that that was anything but his normal screechy voice. "Tell you what. If I spot something that ought to be looked into, which might lead to heroic acts, I'll see if I can pass it off to you. Odds of that actually happening are slim," he admits, "But I do come here frequently to keep tabs on this n… glade. And I know they'd be thrilled to death if you managed to prevent some kind of harm from happening to it. You don't happen to have a cell phone, do you?"
"They're actually pretty good about not crapping in the apartment," Val claims. I kinda convinced them that the whole place is a big nest and you shouldn't crap in it. Before that, I was using a lot of drop-clothes and plastic sheeting. There is still the odd mess and it is a pain in the ass to clean, so any help you can offer'll be good," Val tells Nick, then eyes the Gnawer. "He keeps phones until someone calls him with news he doesn't like. Same thing that happens to the phones that Reggie gets given. Then again, Brad uses them to give his brother news he knows the guy won't like."
Jeremiah offers Nick a nod, and then there's actually another genuinely amused grin at what Val says. "I gave up on cell phones," he explains, shaking his head. "Break too easy." There's a pause, and Jeremiah continues. "But I spend the parts of the day I don't spend running, training, or checking in w' my tribe, here." Apparently quite consistently. "Either here, or th' other side. Sleep out by the bridge. Try not t' be hard t' find."
"We need to just mount a Wolf Signal megalight on top of the Walker tenement's roof. Bwoosh!" He gestures upwards towards the sky with two outstretched arms. "Big howling wolf's head on the clouds." He drops his arms. "Everyone comes running." He drops the levity, then nods to Jeremiah. "If I can, I'll…. Well, technically, I think I have to call the Walkers first if I see something amiss and you're not already here and handling the situation, like you did the other day with that angry dipshit who blamed Val for his own shortcomings and infidelity. But if you're not here, after I make the call to my family for assistance, I'll check down near the bridge in case you're over there."
Val hmms. "I'll let you know if I come across anything, Jeremiah. Oh, Nick, have you seen or heard anything about Ex recently? I need to pay her a visit when the moon isn't quite so big." Val suddenly grins at Nick. "And, just for the record. You're a ham."
Jeremiah grins and nods. "'preciate it, both of you," he says. "Stuff like that, gives me a chance to prove I'm… a better man now, than I was. Prove towards gettin' my voice back, that no matter what it says 'bout who I was, I ain't." There's a tilt of his head to one side, and he looks at Val, and asks, "Ex?"
Nicodemus shakes his head negatively at Val. "I haven't crossed paths with Ex in quite some time. I think I last ran into her at Edgewood a month or two ago. She seems to be getting a little better?" There's a definite, audible question mark at the end of that sentence. "I think." His smartphone chirps at him. He pulls it out of his pocket, glances at it, and puts it away seconds later. "I'm a firm believer in second chances. Pleasure to have met you, Bullfrog. Val. See you both around." He offers a wave and then heads off towards a Porsche SUV parked alongside the street.
Val watches Nick head off, after voicing a goodbye. "Ex is a cub claimed by the Furies. Bit of a complicated case. I did a lot of digging in to her past, as no one else seemed to be doing it and she was here for months before I found out about her," Val adds, sounding a little grumpy about the issue. "Lots and lots of leg work. Anyway. Found out that she got grabbed about the same time she would have firsted and the folks doing the grabbing were a bunch of Weavery research type people. They proceeded to poke her with sticks over the next buncha years in the name of science and in search of a cure for being, ya know, a fucking Werewolf. She busted loose while being transported from one site to a new one. Company seems to move around a fair bit. May have an idea of what city they are in now, but I can only do so much leg work on my own. Anyway, I need to follow Nick's example and scoot home before the kids completely destroy the pace."
"Sounds like a handful," Jeremiah agrees, to the last point, and then he nods. His teeth get bared somewhat at Val's explanation, but not at Val. "Fuckers. If there's a war party gets organised? I'm going, or well. I'd damn well like to if they'd have me. It ain't right. Some things need to die." Even saying that, though, there's no waver in the Ahroun's willpower. There's a pause, and he leans against the tree, taking his jacket and settling it over his knees and retrieving his book. "Gaia watch, Val. An' thanks. That asshole bothers you, let me know, yeah?"
Val rubs at her temple briefly. "Only gonna be a war party if I can find the place, or someone else does. But anyway, I'll keep you posted. G'night Jeremiah." And with that, Val takes her leave.
The moon is in the waning Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (65% full).
It's a sunny and warm afternoon, which finds Jeremiah camped out in his usual daytime spot in Harbor Park, under a tree where he can keep an eye on things. The Gnawer's a bit from a path, a slight ways from the main gathering of homeless in the park, a little closer to the fountain. And it's far too warm for the oversize jacket that he usually wears, so that and a rucksack are next to him, and the ahroun's got a beat-up hardcover book that he's reading. The ahroun practically radiates Rage, but not in any distinct or purposeful manner, at least. Just enough to keep the majority of the park-goers away from him.
Nicodemus enters the park from the north, tracking along the river's bank and pausing every so often to stoop, pick up a small rock, and send it zinging across the water's surface. He seems to have a real knack for skipping stones. It takes him a good ten minutes to travel half the length of the park, at which point he turns and begins heading west towards the fountain. As he climbs the bank and begins crossing the grass, he scans over the park to see who's present and what's going on. Spying Jeremiah, and recognizing him from the other day, Nick pauses for a moment and then redirects his path in that direction. His trendy-business-casual attire clashes starkly with the Gnawer's. When Jeremiah looks his way, he offers a muted hand-raise in greeting and slows up a bit, in case his presence is undesired.
Jeremiah sets one hand to hold his spot in his reading, and lifts his other hand in greeting. The young man seems to be ambivalent about the approach of the other, at least, leaning back against the tree. When he puts his hand down, he reaches and pulls a pack of cheap cigarettes from the pile of things, lighting one with a flick of a cheap plastic lighter before Nicodemus finishes approaching.
Nicodemus draws nearer. "Hey," he says by way of greeting. "Thanks for standing up for Val the other day. She's a friend. I appreciated it." Simple. Straightforward.
The Gnawer nods, looking at Nick and brow furrowing for a moment, before the expression eases into what must, for the ahroun, count as a smile. "Val's done me a few favours, time and again," Jeremiah says. He speaks quietly and carefully, but there's nothing that can disguise that his voice is squeaky, high, nasal, and whiny. Unnaturally so, almost. "I… owe her, she's been good to me."
Nicodemus takes a moment, studying Jeremiah, and eventually even crouching down so he's more on his level. "Val does a lot of people a lot of favors. You're…" He aborts what he was saying, then seemingly switches topics. "Have you been out to Wolf Woods National Park?"
Jeremiah puffs on the cigarette, and shakes his head. "Bit far," he responds. "Don't get out of the city much, and I tend… to stay west of the Scarred Forest, if I do. Up in the woods where I don't bother no one or step on no one's tail, or go where I's…" Then it's Jeremiah's turn to let the sentence fade off, and he shrugs. "Don't got a car. Don't want one."
Nicodemus nods slowly at this statement. "Family?" he inquires. Again, it's a simple question with a load of subtext. His head cocks slightly to one side, considering. "Fan of storms and crows, perchance?"
The young man doesn't get up, at least not entirely, but he scoffs, cigarette held in one hand so that he can glare and spit on the ground to the direction where Nicodemus isn't. "I knows what I look like. But. Fuck them," Jeremiah squeaks out, and that anger and Rage is so very obvious, but it's shadowed by so much more this time. Guilt, pain, grief, and all of those things fuel the Beast as well. "Fuck them and their lies an' deception an' treachery, all they never fucking did for th' rest of us. Mama Rat gave me an honest chance when they'd damn hung me out for the Wyrm to eat, hear? Thunder's no family of mine." Every so often as he talks now, the words are accented by what look to be sign language. And hey, if nothing else, maybe the Ahroun really is crazy.
Nicodemus slowly begins leaning back as the ahroun gets more angry and animated. "Gnawer," he says after it's over. "Nick Dalton. Kin to the Walker family. Sorry. I didn't know the history or what you'd been through. You've met the Gnawers in town yet? Are you new here? Or have we just not crossed paths before?"
Jeremiah takes a deep breath and settles back himself, shoulders lowering. He's got anger issues, but he's also got what seems to be a nearly iron willpower and ability to control himself, at least when he wants to. "Jeremiah. Called Bullfrog, named Lives-On. Cliath ahroun, and anruth—not a sept member," Jeremiah says, the clarification at the end with none of the bitterness of the explanation before. "An' yeah. Lefty-rhya knows I'm in town an' knows the deal."
"Jeremiah was a bullfrog?" Despite the ahroun's earlier anger, Nick manages a genuine smile. "I like it. You've got a sense of humor. I see why Val likes you. Anruth, huh?" He mulls that over a little, apparently comprehending the term's meaning. "Are you thinking of joining up with the locals? The Gnawers here seem pretty congenial and welcoming." He clearly has zero idea of Jeremiah's prior history—or current situation—with the sept.
The ahroun nods to the very first point. "Back 'fore I spoke English very well," he explains as far as the name goes. Now, he seems to speak English well enough, though it's a cross between Gnawer standard urban low-class, and almost hillspeak, the accent nigh impossible to pinpoint underneath the Jackal-voice. "Got named that, down in Vegas. It stuck." The Gnawer even does seem to have a sense of humour. "I like it." And then Jeremiah shakes his head. "I have things here. Then I's done, then I'll be on my way. Thinkin' Portland. Where Kaz is." There's a grin, almost fondness at the mention of the Gnawer metis.
Nicodemus nods knowingly, as if he also knows Kaz. "Kaz is good people. Her heart's in the right place. And Portland? I've been there a few times. Tons of culture and interesting things to do there. But… I'm not familiar at all with what goes on after dark, so to speak. Val helping you to get things done around here?" he inquires.
Jeremiah shrugs his shoulders. "Like I said. She did me a few favours. One when I got to town. Another… in another life, so to speak. While ago," and there's a definitive way that says that the second at least, Jeremiah's not willing to discuss, "an' so." Eventually, Jeremiah shakes his head. "My things to do are my own."
"I respect that," the Walker kin says in response to the Gnawer's statement. And then there's a bit of awkwardness as Nick seems to run out of tangents to talk about. "Well, I guess… Best of luck to you in your… the things you need to do. And, again, thanks for coming to Val's aid yesterday." He then strikes on a separate topic—of sorts. "So you know Mr. Lee, too? From the other day?"
"The Agent?" Jer says, a little bit quizzically. The Gnawer shakes his head, moving to pull another cigarette from the pack as the one he was smoking is nearly smoked all the way down. "Seen him, few times. 'Round the park, but I don' go near the rest," he gestures towards the main gathering of the homeless. "Scare them, you know?"
The earlier topic of discussion makes an appearance in the park and after a quick look around, Val starts to make her way towards the Gnawer and Mage. "Hey!" She greets once within earshot and lifts a hand in greeting. She has something in a cheap plastic bag in her other hand.
Jeremiah sits up a little bit further, finally parking his book on top of his jacket so that he has a free hand, and he waves over towards Val. Unlike the others, though, the Gnawer doesn't bother to raise his voice or speak at the moment, though he does seem interested in the answer to Nick's question, intently interested almost.
Val shakes her head. "Nope. Haven't seen angry man. That was a messy case to start with, but what can you do. Hopefully, he'll take some time and think about his life some," she adds with a faint smirk. "I've noticed that you smoke like a chimney these days Bullfrog," the small woman adds, pulling a full carton of cigarettes out of the cheap plastic bag and offering them to the Gnawer.
Nicodemus smiles at something Val said. "I tailed him for several blocks and, honestly, he seemed to have cooled off a bit. Didn't seem to be a threat." The smile fades. "Frankly, I was initially concerned he might take it out on someone, anyone, but…" He shrugs again. "Like I said, he seemed to have cooled off substantially. He probably started thinking about the shit his anger was going to get him into and the consequences thereof."
Jeremiah looks up at Val, and there's a genuine, gracious, if small smile. And it's a smile that's careful not to show teeth as the Gnawer nods and accepts the carton of cigarettes. "I do," he admits with a squeaky-toned huff. "The tobacco rite helps the rage." There's a pause, and Jeremiah continues, "Thank you, Val. I appreciate it." Jeremiah has a rucksack with him, one he seems to have acquired somewhere, and he takes it out from under the jacket to carefully put the cigarettes away then buckle the bag shut again. "Realised he might get angry at— at the wrong person one day, too, probably," Jeremiah adds.
"S'alright," Val says and rubs at one of her ears, as she looks between Nick and Jeremiah. "I appreciate the help, but I will admit that I was a bit worried about your temper there, for a bit. You two been properly introduced yet?" She asks, then lets her hand drop back down.
"We seem to have figured out family relations," Nick asides to Val. He nods to Jeremiah. "No shit. That guy had zero clue how close he was. And I suspect, if pressed, Val could have stomped his ass on her own." He pokes at Val with a finger. "Tough old bird."
Val sticks her tongue out at the Mage in response, then grins. "Yea right. I'm five foot tall on a good day and I usually get smaller, not bigger. Oh, and Nick, I think you're right about the deposit on my place. Unless I manage to get the repair work done before I move out. One of the kids figured out that she can poke holes in drywall, then showed the others how to do it. You should she the mess they made."
The Gnawer settles his jacket over the pack again, taking a slow puff from the cigarette he has lit. Yep, he smokes like a goddamn chimney, but it really does seem to help. Especially comparatively with the ticking time bomb once known as Andrei. "I was fine," he says to Val, with a grin, a little fiercer of an expression. "I's… got a bit pissed when he tried to shove me but it's fine." There's silence, as though Jer is considering whether to keep speaking, and then he does, apparently used to the Jackal-squeak. "Probably scared him all the more. Haven't frenzied outside of being dead to start with since I's frenzied on the Warder and worked with Salem-rhya on the… problems I'd been having back then."
A bit more of a pause, and Jer looks over to Val once more. "I's can fix things like that," he offers to her. "Holes is mostly drywall patching stuff. Get it at the hardware store type, and I'd be happy to help out."
Nicodemus looks from Val to Jeremiah, wrinkling his brow slightly in thought at some of the contextless revelations and allowing his mind to dwell on possibilities. "Wow," he breathes in Jeremiah's direction. "You know, I'd ask, because that sounds like one hell of a story, but it seems to be in the past and unpleasant so…" He shrugs. "All I needed to know was that the sept seemed okay with it, so…" And he does indeed just drop it right there. He looks to Val, then Jeremiah, then Val again. "I'd offer to lend a hand, but I'm tied up all of next week. And I suspect you've got an end-of-the-month move-out date?"
"End of the month move out date," Val confirms. "But, it's the end of next month. I'm having some work done on the Snakes and Lattes roof. Putting in a garden and a roost for the kids, which will honestly make them happier than having to head in an out of the apartment via a cat door. Lots more open space. Also, it's gonna be a bout six months before they completely strike out on their own. I don't think I could take six months of one them either turning on the taps constantly, or flushing the toilet. Which they find absolutely fascinating. If you guys want to help, I'll take whatever I can get. Can let you know when everything is moved out. And Bullfrog, no offense, but when in Gaia's name are you gonna get your normal voice back?"
"When hell freezes?" Jeremiah squeaks out a laugh and then takes a breath in, one that's steadying and calming, and glances up to Val and shakes his head, then holds up two fingers. "Two options," he says, a little more seriously. "One? I leave. Forever. I leave forever, I go to Salem-rhya and he'll call Speaks-through-Pager an' she'll undo it." There's a pause, and he continues. "Two, somethin' happens here, and I'm a big damn hero in service to the Sept. In the mean time, I's tryin' to help out as best I can, here. Put things right as best I can that I didn't get the chance to."
"In that case, I'll see about swinging by and… I've got a concoction to help reduce any smells and clean off any bird poop that's welded itself to the floors. Or walls." Nick waits a bit, then adds, "Or ceiling, if the little buggers managed that somehow." He looks to Bullfrog curiously, as if not having known that that was anything but his normal screechy voice. "Tell you what. If I spot something that ought to be looked into, which might lead to heroic acts, I'll see if I can pass it off to you. Odds of that actually happening are slim," he admits, "But I do come here frequently to keep tabs on this n… glade. And I know they'd be thrilled to death if you managed to prevent some kind of harm from happening to it. You don't happen to have a cell phone, do you?"
"They're actually pretty good about not crapping in the apartment," Val claims. I kinda convinced them that the whole place is a big nest and you shouldn't crap in it. Before that, I was using a lot of drop-clothes and plastic sheeting. There is still the odd mess and it is a pain in the ass to clean, so any help you can offer'll be good," Val tells Nick, then eyes the Gnawer. "He keeps phones until someone calls him with news he doesn't like. Same thing that happens to the phones that Reggie gets given. Then again, Brad uses them to give his brother news he knows the guy won't like."
Jeremiah offers Nick a nod, and then there's actually another genuinely amused grin at what Val says. "I gave up on cell phones," he explains, shaking his head. "Break too easy." There's a pause, and Jeremiah continues. "But I spend the parts of the day I don't spend running, training, or checking in w' my tribe, here." Apparently quite consistently. "Either here, or th' other side. Sleep out by the bridge. Try not t' be hard t' find."
"We need to just mount a Wolf Signal megalight on top of the Walker tenement's roof. Bwoosh!" He gestures upwards towards the sky with two outstretched arms. "Big howling wolf's head on the clouds." He drops his arms. "Everyone comes running." He drops the levity, then nods to Jeremiah. "If I can, I'll…. Well, technically, I think I have to call the Walkers first if I see something amiss and you're not already here and handling the situation, like you did the other day with that angry dipshit who blamed Val for his own shortcomings and infidelity. But if you're not here, after I make the call to my family for assistance, I'll check down near the bridge in case you're over there."
Val hmms. "I'll let you know if I come across anything, Jeremiah. Oh, Nick, have you seen or heard anything about Ex recently? I need to pay her a visit when the moon isn't quite so big." Val suddenly grins at Nick. "And, just for the record. You're a ham."
Jeremiah grins and nods. "'preciate it, both of you," he says. "Stuff like that, gives me a chance to prove I'm… a better man now, than I was. Prove towards gettin' my voice back, that no matter what it says 'bout who I was, I ain't." There's a tilt of his head to one side, and he looks at Val, and asks, "Ex?"
Nicodemus shakes his head negatively at Val. "I haven't crossed paths with Ex in quite some time. I think I last ran into her at Edgewood a month or two ago. She seems to be getting a little better?" There's a definite, audible question mark at the end of that sentence. "I think." His smartphone chirps at him. He pulls it out of his pocket, glances at it, and puts it away seconds later. "I'm a firm believer in second chances. Pleasure to have met you, Bullfrog. Val. See you both around." He offers a wave and then heads off towards a Porsche SUV parked alongside the street.
Val watches Nick head off, after voicing a goodbye. "Ex is a cub claimed by the Furies. Bit of a complicated case. I did a lot of digging in to her past, as no one else seemed to be doing it and she was here for months before I found out about her," Val adds, sounding a little grumpy about the issue. "Lots and lots of leg work. Anyway. Found out that she got grabbed about the same time she would have firsted and the folks doing the grabbing were a bunch of Weavery research type people. They proceeded to poke her with sticks over the next buncha years in the name of science and in search of a cure for being, ya know, a fucking Werewolf. She busted loose while being transported from one site to a new one. Company seems to move around a fair bit. May have an idea of what city they are in now, but I can only do so much leg work on my own. Anyway, I need to follow Nick's example and scoot home before the kids completely destroy the pace."
"Sounds like a handful," Jeremiah agrees, to the last point, and then he nods. His teeth get bared somewhat at Val's explanation, but not at Val. "Fuckers. If there's a war party gets organised? I'm going, or well. I'd damn well like to if they'd have me. It ain't right. Some things need to die." Even saying that, though, there's no waver in the Ahroun's willpower. There's a pause, and he leans against the tree, taking his jacket and settling it over his knees and retrieving his book. "Gaia watch, Val. An' thanks. That asshole bothers you, let me know, yeah?"
Val rubs at her temple briefly. "Only gonna be a war party if I can find the place, or someone else does. But anyway, I'll keep you posted. G'night Jeremiah." And with that, Val takes her leave.