Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous Moon phase (73% full).
Currently in Saint Claire, it's a sunny day. The temperature is 70 degrees Fahrenheit (21 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the north at 5 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.13 and falling, and the relative humidity is 56 percent. The dewpoint is 54 degrees Fahrenheit (12 degrees Celsius.)
It is currently 12:00 Pacific Time on Wed Aug 8 2001.
Walker Safe House(#2832RAJL)
This small tenement building is a work that any interior decorator would be proud of. The building is somehow filled with light and space, despite the fact that the room is far from large. Mirrored surfaces and lush green potted plants are much in evidence - jarring only slightly with the video cameras that perch unobtrusively in various locations. A small sign on the wall lists the number of apartments upstairs as eight, though there are no names next to the apartment numbers. A very thick door leads downstairs, with no visible method of being opened - except a keypad next to it. A monitor is perched above the entrance, showing images from the hidden camera that watches the outside of the building.
The lobby branches off into what appears to be a small recreation room; for use only by residents and their guests. Much like the rest of the building, mirrors are prominent. There is a pool table set up in one half of the room, along with a small fridge for storing drinks and a cabinet for snackables. The remainder is dominated by a large home theater system, with an incredibly expensive-looking couch in front of it. The couch nearly screams out, 'Don't spill anything'. For those who might, there are also two matching side-chairs, and a bean-bag on the floor - far too close to the television to be good for anyone's eyes.
The TV's on in the rec room, ostensibly tuned to a midday local news program though it goes through periods of channel-flipping. With all the mirrors about, it's easily shown that a male ragabash cub is in control. He's not particularly interested in the news or anything else that flickers on the screen, to judge by his semi-slouched posture on one arm of the couch and blank expression.
Coming down the stairs, pausing only to glance around to make sure John isn't around is Dizzy. Looking a bit skittish and nervous. She peers into the rec room and slips in. "Hey Core," she says, turning around and looking back out into the lobby. "We should talk."
Corey looks back at his fellow cub and clicks off the TV. Nothing but talk shows anyway. "Sure thing. What about?" His voice has a distracted tone to it, like he's only half paying attention to anything external.
Dizzy turns back around and sits down on the couch sideways, facing her cubmate. "You know that stunt you pulled the other night, the one John got really pissed at. He wants me to come up with your punishment."
Now Dizzy has Corey's full attention. He stares at her, looking for any signs she might possibly be joking. Finally he slumps back even more and mutters, "So much for throwing oneself on the mercy of the court. I don't know which was worse, having John chew me out for planning the event badly, or having his disgust for it not being my idea at all."
There is no possiblity of joking here. Unless Dizzy is an expert actor. "I could think of something, that's not really the problem. Except, you see, I think John knows that I was out the other night with Jeremy, so whatever you get, I might get as well. Hence, my problem."
Corey considers this information. "So you think he plans to play off Ragabash vs. Ragabash? He makes you decide mine, he makes me decide yours?" He gets up and starts to pace, kicking the beanbag out of the way as he makes the passes.
Dizzy shrugs, looking over at the other end of the couch. "I don't know. I think I may have to endure whatever I choose for you. And he was quiet clear that I was _not_ to go easy on you."
Corey stops midstride and shoots an irritated glance Dizzy's way. "So why are you telling me this? You have to know that you're putting me on guard for whatever you might do." He continues pacing with some grumbling under his breath.
"Because, I need your help. Whatever it's going to be has got to _seem_ harsh. I'm doing you a favor here. Play 'choose your own punishment' or something." Dizzy look pleadingly at her cubmate, "Maybe something we can turn back on John or something. I'm sure he asked Alicia and found out I wasn't out with her. So I'm trying to save my own ass as well."
Corey spins around and flops back into his original seat at the end of a circuit. He rubs his face, trying to think and unable to do so. "I'm not used to machinations on this level. What seems harsh to me might be normal or indifferent for you, and vice versa." He sighs. "I'd say get Jer to do something to my computer, except I don't have my computer. I'd say do something to my books, but that's not going to elicit the reaction John's hoping for, I think. I... honestly don't know. I've never had to punish myself under the circumstances."
"That's another problem," Dizzy explains, "We don't really have anything to punish us with. We don't get to go out, we don't see other people, we just sit in here and lounge around. There is really nothing more punishing other than sheer boredom. Maybe he was expecting us to start doing shit?"
A nod from the other cub. "I think you've hit it, we're expected to start doing things because we don't know better. But hell, I've probably pulled a few hundred pranks on my so-called 'peers' at school, and nothing fits here. We're supposed to get embarrassed, but with nobody to see..."
"What is embaressing when you're all alone?" Dizzy exclaims, exasperated. "There's nothing to get embaressed about if there's no one to see you."
Corey turns his head slowly to look directly into one of the security cameras and grimace. "Well, we're agreed that this is an exercise in futility. But what do we /do/ about it?"
Dizzy shrugs and tugs at her bangs, "I have no idea. That's why I came to talk to you. I figured you could come up with something."
Corey shakes his head, scowling. "I could tell you all sorts of things you can try, but nothing that'd convince anyone I was having problems. Sorry."
Out from left field, Dizzy asks simply, "What if we just leave?"
"Leave?" Corey blinks stupidly for a moment, then throws his head back and laughs. "And go where? 'Home'? School? Where would we be able to stay?"
Dizzy shrugs, "I dunno. Maybe we could go to the farmhouse. Though, we might be sent back here pretty quickly. We could stay at a motel or something."
Corey snaps his head down, any mirth giving way to puzzlement in his expression. "Farmhouse?" he prompts, being unfamiliar with any significance to the term.
Dizzy nods and turns around, sitting up straight to look up at Corey. "Yeah, the farmhouse. That's where the non-Urrah tribes keep their cubs. Sophie never took you down there?"
Corey makes a negative gesture. "I must have missed that trip. Still, if there's other Garou there, yeah. We'd get our fuzzy rears shoved back here fairly rapidly, probably not without some wounds to speed us on our way."
"So we go to a motel or something. Somewhere where no one else would be or think to look. I'd suggest going out of town, but then Dads would probably kill me." Dizzy seems more enthused now with her speaking. The idea of just leaving seems to have a certain appeal to her.
Conversely, Corey seems to get more averse to the notion. "Have you thought about how we'd have an Ahroun -- a /werewolf warrior/ -- after us? With the moon this full? And presumably experienced in tracking?"
"So what, we're werewoves too," Dizzy points out, a tad annoyed that her cubmate is being so contrary. "Hell, we could probably just take wolf form and go out into the forest or something."
A visible shudder passes through Corey's body. "Uh. Yeah." He seems even less enthusiastic about the idea of wandering the forest. "Though I must admit it'd be the last place they'd look for urrah cubs."
Dizzy nods, proud that her idea has merit, however little that may be. "If you think about it, maybe that's what John is pushing for. Locking us up with nothing to do so that we try and leave."
Corey is now really lost. "Locking us up and trying to get us to punish each other... to get us to leave? I don't see the logic." He gets up and goes to ransack the fridge, seeking nothing in particular but feeling the need to do something.
"Why not? He's creating an uncomfortable and unbearable environment. The obvious solution is for us to leave. Force us to learn to survive outside our usual territories. Isn't that part of being cockroaches? Surviving?" Dizzy giggles. It sounds crazy, it may be crazy, but maybe that's what's expected.
The fridge door closes, lighter one bottle of water. Corey is silent for some moments, even between sips. Finally, "I can't fault the logic, but only because I really don't know what John is up to, and I'm getting a headache trying to figure out motives and probabilities."
Dizzy leans back and turns to lay down on the length of the couch. "Well, if we're going to do it, we've got to do it _now_. Otherwise we run the risk of A, people finding out and B, losing the opportunity to do it."
Corey hesitates, fighting with himself over it. "Well, it /would/ remove a few bodies if the house gets investigated..."
Dizzy nods, grinning. The boy is going for it. "If theres a bunch of kids just hanging out here, an investigation would turn up something is weird. Even though Dads knows that I'm here. I'm not sure about your folks, though."
Congratulate Dizzy, she just hit a panic button. "I'll go get my jacket." Corey drops his water onto the counter and dashes upstairs, returning quickly with his arms halfway into the sleeves.
Dizzy blinks and sits back up. "Your parents don't know?" She stands up and giggles, rolling her eyes. "Oh boy, this is like a movie."
"I'm /presuming/ they don't know, or at least are trying to keep my disappearance quiet." Corey grimaces and shakes the jacket into position, "I didn't see anything in the papers about a runaway by the name of CJ Randle, and some investigation about my parents... well, I don't know what to think. But it's sure to be a problem if I show up here and my mom hasn't even filed a missing persons report."
Dizzy giggles again, "Okay okay. Let me grab my coat, and we'll take off. Shall I drive?"
For answer, Corey shows Dizzy his wallet, and riffles through the cards therein. None of them is a driver's license, or even a permit.
"I meant, should I take the car, or should we walk. It might affect how fast they find us if I leave the car here." Dizzy says, getting up off of the couch.
Corey ohs, and winces. "Umm. I'm not sure how well we might be tracked, either way. Certainly we'd go faster by car, but where would we leave it?"
Dizzy thinks about this for a second, and then nods, "You're right, no car. I wouldn't want to leave it in a parking lot for a long time, depending on how long we're gone."
Corey nods and walks toward the door. "Plus it might give a hint as to where we're going." He stops, a new thought occurring to him. "Can you give someone a call on your cell? Or at least make it look like it? Oh, nevermind, I already look like I'm going out, it's a bit late for that."
"Yeah, oh well. Hold on a second." Dizzy quickly goes upstairs and returns with her coat. "Okay. Let's go, then?"
Corey holds the door open and bows. "After you, sis."
Dizzy curtsies greatfully, "Thank you, bro." And with that, she heads out the door.