xxxxxPart 1
xxxxxOn this particular day, at just around 3pm, Agatha had made arrangements for an introduction meeting. The weather is muggy, but not overly hot, there may well be a storm brewing somewhere that will be arriving in the next several hours, but for now the humidity hangs in the air. It's not quite as bad indoors, but it's wasteful to run AC to keep the massive old KEG house cooled, so windows are open and there are a couple of fans that keep the air circulating through the house. Middle of the afternoon is normally work-time, Agatha has a small garden to attend, rabbits to feed, a lot of housework to attend, and people to kill on the old copy of Halo she's been playing with between waiting for messages to come in or deliveries to be made, more often than not to the hospital these days since someone found her a job that's practically respectable. But as time got closer to when she would be expecting the visitor to arrive, she put all of those things into order, and made sure she was presentable in shorts and a baggy purple t-shirt. Then she moved, barefoot, to doing some light chores on the first floor while she waits for Skip to come home earlier than usual from his normal routine of work, and for the visitor to arrive.
xxxxxSkip arrives entering through the front door, dropping a bag of sundries on the end table just inside the door where the mail used to go. Back when they got mail. To be fair is was mostly magazines from video games to porn, but it was still mail. He stops just to the side of the doorway to peel off the velcro claps of the body armor with the large block letters "SHFD" and he drags a hand through the top of his hair. "There were more donations at the fire house today -- apparantly people find the idea of lighting DuMas on fire appealing," He calls out, then he adds. "I'm taking a shower -- I have demolition dust all over me." And with that, he bounds up the stairs, starting to peel off layers of his clothes s he makes his way from the second landing to the bathroom.
xxxxxGrateful to have been given audience with the local wolfpack, she's dressed "up" for the occassion. Her normal jeans are actually without holes in them. A black A-shirt over a dark blue one, leaving her arms bare. Her hair is in a ponytail, given what she now does for work. She gives herself a smell check before walking up to the door, just to make sure she smelled clean with those with senstive noses around. Her dark brown eyes take in her surroundings. Her brows furrow at the frat house feel, but she shrugs it off before knocking on the door, then her hand goes to the back of her neck, rubbing a bit at her nervousness over actually talking to a wolves that aren't in first transformation or members of her family in several years.
xxxxx"And we have demolition dust all over the foyer and the stairs." Agatha snerks a bit as she has made her way out of the front room a few moments later and towards the entry, just watching the dust settle behind the man bounding up the stairs. She's about to gather up all of the things deposited on the end table and see what, if any of it, needs relocated when the knock happens. She cocks her head, an ear towards the sound of the shower running to estimate the time til Skip returns most likely. One last look down at herself and pushing her blonde hair back over her shoulders, she answers the door with a curious look to the woman standing on the other side of the door. "Hello." There is more than a little bit of speculative study in her once-over, but no more than would be expected. And she's not the friendly and sweet wolfblood of the pack. "Ms Winters? Please come in..." She steps back to allow the other woman into the building that does still, even in the post-apocalypse, bear a few indications of having been a Frat House, at least at some point in it's fairly recent past.
xxxxxAlex stomps her combat-booted feet to make sure not to track dirt into the house. She offers a smile at Agatha, "Alex, please." Once inside, her own scrutiny takes place. A constant study of the spirit realms, have her eyes scanning everything that could be seen as a threat, including the girl in front of her. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with me." She offers her right hand to shake.
xxxxxAs Alexandra steps inside, the practical (and entirely mundane) once over study that was given to the other woman, done in a "sizing you up" fashion had cleared and Agatha had begun to form a smile. It's the sort of expression that doesn't seem to come easily to the blonde, but it had appeared upon her lips as she's bobbing her head in response to her offer to use a more familiar name. But then she feels something else, something inkling of recognition about something she knows nothing about but is reminiscent of things felt during the Dark Days. She freezes in place, the smile slips away and a frown appears and there's a look of suspicion between Alexandra and the open door. "What is that?"
xxxxxIn Twilight, the lower floor reverberates with the sound of a roaring crowd, and nearby to Agatha's location, a being manifests. The size of a pre-schooler, wearing a T-Shirt that says "Go Pods!" over the symbol for ARU and a foot-ball helmet of the Kicker style with only a single bar across the front -- the squid face behind the helmet is cartoon-like in its style -- with large, adorable eyes and tentacles in the university colors waving out of the helmet while the beak somehow manages to smile. It has a ARU colored pom-pom in one hand and a small flag with also says "Go Pods!" in the other. A marching band fan-fare begins as soon as it finishes materializing in the twlight, rather in fully in the real world.
xxxxxOnly a few seconds into the meeting and she's managed to hose things. She begins to move away from Agatha to show she means no harm when she sees the totem and she scowls at it. Her eyes move to the floor, because at this point, she's certain she looks schitzophrenic, or something equally bad, "My appologies. I think I was..." she stops trying to figure out what to say exactly, "Damnit, I came here to be honest with you. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, miss." She's not stammering, but her gaze has moved back to the totem, the muscles in her jaw begin to tick as she keeps hearing "Go Pods!"
xxxxxA shape drops from the upper floors down the gap left by the stairs between the floors. A three point landing, unnaturally muted considering the distance fallen and the sheer size of the figure now rising to his full height. Six foot four inches tall, the denim jeans damp as if he was towling off and was interrupted, the bare torso glistens with dampness accentuating the titan-esque physic as if a superhero had been carved from marble and then that marble had been made flesh. He tosses his head and water arcs away from his close cut blonde hair as his eyes bore into the participans in the scene below, putting a lie to the smile that creeps across his lips. To Alexandra, who has activated her spirit senses, the figure arriving is even more intense than the form cut in the world of men. The nimbus of the Ur-Farah -- the firstborn patron of the Blood Talons, the Destroyer Wolf -- burns from the hulking manform, and each movement swells and roils with the restrained power of a wolf-god avatar. Silver hued brands left by the Moon's maidens decorate the smooth, chiseled flesh -- unflared but still visible to the scrutiny of the Thyrsus, tells tales of Glory and Honor, Purity and Cunning. There is a resonance of undirected menance -- not that the arrival is threatening Alexandra or intends her ill -- but rather that his uratha is by his very existence, a *threat* of some sort. An embodied force of destruction -- held by reins of a healer in a dichotomy that only makes sense in the world of the beings both spirit and flesh.
xxxxx"Ur-sag Gu Giri, Rahu, Suthar Anzuth, Hikarnirmeda Nasaru." He offers verbally under the gaze that is assessing the level of threat the woman might represent and through the smile that is perhaps more reflexive than honest. His bare feet clench at the carpet he landed on. He doesn't say more, yet, but his posture relaxes as if he loosening up for whatever comes next.
xxxxxThe tension that Agatha's stilled form had taken on doesn't really relax away from Alexandra's explaination, she seems to be trying to decide just how to react to that as Skip makes his arrival from above and then she seems prompted towards movement, a bit of pull to make it seem less fragile as her bare feet step back a pace. She looks away from Alexandra long enough to look at Skip, there's an acknowlegement there that might suggest that him dropping down from upper floors to the main one isn't a big deal in her world. She doesn't say anything about her sense that something is... off, but she offers in a cool sort of way, "This is Alex... Winters, the woman who sent the request to meet." She purses her lips into a very natural looking frown line, waiting for the woman to respond, watching her.
xxxxxHer eyes move from the totem to the girl, whom she stares at for more than a second, then to the leaping large dude. At the words she remembers from her sister's people, she takes a deep breath, with a curious glance back at Agatha, she speaks calmly and levelly, "I am Alexandra Winters, Daduchos Superior Acacia, Curator to the Alae Draconis and Primal on the Path of Ecstacy. My appologies, Son of Red Wolf. I meant no disrespect to your... to... her." She looks at Agatha again. Ignoring the totem spirit for the moment, she scowls studying Agatha, "You're... impossible."
xxxxxNarum a' Litum, or more easily known as Roar of the Crowd drops his beak open at Alexandra's introduction, and tilts its head slowly before rapping the side of the helmet as if it is the helmet's fault that most of what she said made no comprehensible sense to it. It turns its dimuniutively helmeted head toward the Rahu and whirls once in a Tasmanian devil fashion -- stopping its spin now dressed like a Drum Major with a marching stick replacing the "Go Pods" flag and a tall hat replacing the helmet. It wraps the stick on the floor again and the unseen brass section begins to play the ARU Fight Song, heavy on the tuba, "Whump whump whump-whump, whump whump whump-whump - GO PODS!" As it strut marches, it places itself between the ineffable Ms. Winters and the Impossible Ms. Sullivan.
xxxxx"Yeah. The one who sent the cat." His expression is momentarily long suffering and he casts his gaze about as if looking for a completely different cat. At the declaration that Agatha is impossible -- Skip's response to the puzzling greeting is delayed by a barking of a laugh. "She seems to know you pretty well already, Scooter." Skip crows out to Agatha.
xxxxxThen Skip's expresssion shifts mercurially to a more severe and somber mein as he says, "Hello Alexandra Winters... I can smell the wolf on you. I don't know what most of that title is -- I mean, aside from a mixture of Greek and Latin. I don't know what a Daduchos is, but it sounds like Greek or Russian for Grandfather... and you don't look like *anybody*'s grandfather." He moves his eyes and up and down her frankly to support that point. "Curator is like a museum or art collection manager -- you are curator of the Dragon's Wing... that's what... a pack? Is that a position you hold with a pack? I'm not sure what you mean by being a primal on the path of esctacy -- you're First on the path of esctacy? Is that some sort of ritual title? Like -- You're the Senior keeper of Wisdom, the Manager of the lore collected by the Wing of the Dragon, and 1st Ritemaster of the rites of Celebration of same? Is that what that all means?"
xxxxxAlex turns her attention to Skip's questions before she turns back to Agatha, "I'm sorry. I'm not easily surprised, but I've never seen a walking locus before. I'm honestly not trying to be rude." She glares at the totem and hisses out, "Hush you!" Finally, her attention goes back to Skip, "That's a lot. To put everything easily," she takes a deep breath and curses the exarchs under it as she lets it out slowly. "I'm a mage. Instead of becoming Farsil-Luhal like my sister, I became a mage. I deal in life and spirit, so yes, I can see your little totem here with his marching band noise, and the thrill of being at a Cubs game pulsing against my skin. I'm sorry, things didn't go as I planned. I didn't mean to make anyone uncomfortable, but I always see what the spirits have in store on this side of things." She realizes she didn't answer any of Skip's questions, but she knew they would only spawn more questions. "Anyway, the leaders of the mage society chose me, because I am wolf blooded, to try to form a loose alliance where we can work together to stop some of the "other" kinds of bad that tends to pop up around here."
xxxxx"I'm no such..." Agatha has just started when Skip is barking laughter and heckling, which promptly earns him a glare from the blonde. She looks very tempted to hit him, then she looks distracted as though looking reminded her that he's only half dressed and he's dripping water on the floor. She settles for a muttered huff of, "Shut up, Skippy." and stamping one of those bare feet on the floor while her attention turns back towards Alexandra with an arched eyebrow while she listens to the woman's explaination. There's a hint of a nod, acknowledging what is said and she remarks, with a sidelong glare at Skip, "That's me, a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma." Then she's quiet again, listening to the rest of what is said.
xxxxxSkip doesn't say anything right away in response to Alexandra's revelation or explanation. After a minute or so of standing there, staring at the woman he says, "I am being rude. I interupted Agatha before she could offer you something to drink or to eat, or a seat." He gesturs toward the lanky blonde, "She has been taking care of people -- connected The People or not." A beat. "Me, less so."
xxxxx"Let me help you relax, Alexandra -- may I call you Alexandra? I am glad you told me you were a "mage"... but to be honest, I've become pretty accustomed to the singular commonality of those with the blood of the wolf to manifest a varied and wide range of powers and interests. My understanding is that some of the workers of magic are not herd -- so the rule about them not knowing doesn't apply. There used to be a fat cop who worked here on the campus who was such... back when the university was in full swing. The Unseen Dean let them keep a wizarding lair under the campus somewhere -- our Alpha at the time didn't really care so long as they didn't rile up the local Court and didn't breach the gauntlet or leave doors open for spirits to get loose. They were quiet neighbors, so we had no beef. The paid us chiminage in food and beer and not breaking up our loud parties -- we left them to skulk about in back corners or libraries and mumble ancient languages."
xxxxx"I'm not going to assume you're tied up with those... but I will assume you wouldn't come here acting as envoy for spellmumblers if they weren't of the type that we're required to *kill* if they know about the People. I will assume your family raised you better, since you introduced yourself so politely."
xxxxx"So why don't we sit down -- and you can make your offer -- keeping in mind I'm a Blood Talon, so I am not going to make a deal that violates the Oath in any way -- not saying you'd ask me to, but what do other mages know of our ways? Hopefully not much. I am more interested in what you are not what you do -- you're of The People, so we should and will show you hospitality and welcome you to socialize with us. You'll need to decide if you are more *us* or more *them*, and then be treated accordingly. So... shall we be civilized and sit down and eat, because frankly, I've been working all day, and I'm hungry."
xxxxxRoar of the Crowd wraggles its tentacles at Alexandra when she hushes at him, but the Brass Marching Band sounds fade away. It moves beside Agatha and reaches up with its tiny hand to squeeze her flesh one, and with the other hand strokes her arm in a soothing fashion. Supportive of its pack sister in its own alien way.
xxxxxShe offers a smile, "You can call me, Alex. And what may I call the two of you, outside of your deed names?" She accepts the proffered seat and pulls out a small folding knife. She cuts her wrist slightly to let the spirit feed from the energy of her body, "I give of myself freely, you little imp. For the moment," She looks at it, "we are friends, don't make me regret it." She holds her arm out to the spirit and lets him wipe the blood away and tuck it into its beak. "I know what you're talking about, in regard to the other mages that were here before. Before I was called back to Chicago to fight against The Great Fire with my sister, I was one of them. Think of me, if you will, formerly as Lara Croft or Indiana Jones. That's my order. We protect knowledge and wisdom from ending up in the hands of those that it should not." She glance at Agatha, but not for long, so she doesn't make her more uncomfortable, but she won't drop her spirit sight while there's a lesser gaffling so close.
xxxxxAgatha doesn't mention that her offerings of refreshments or a seat were interupted before Skip dropped into the middle of the foyer, instead she picks up the cue and inclines her head, "I can serve dinner a little early, if you would like to join us for the meal, it's not anything fancy but there is plenty." She tells, and the house does hold scents of food cooking, now that there aren't other distractions to focus on, "Crock-pot chicken and dumplings." The tension that had not faded finally does, not from the explanations heard from the other woman but from the supportive gestures from the spirit, it might seem. And she bounces a little on the balls of her feet, "Any preferences on drink?" The question directed towards Alexandra, she doesn't ask Skip so she must know that answer.
xxxxxWhile Skip clearly is paying attention to the further explanation, he rejoinder is to grunt, and shrug non-chalantly. Then he claps his hands together once, "Excellent," this to Agatha's pronouncement about dinner. "While you get that ready, I'll run up and see if the others will join us. I should be back in five, ten minutes -- you two can discuss your impossibility and her love for giant bolders and keeping secrets. I'll just go get a shirt and some shoes, I don't want Zoe oogling so hard it makes Malcolm start pouting. Again." He winks. He grins. He may be joking, he may not, but upstairs he goes.
xxxxxRoar of the Crowd, after taking Alexandra's offering, waves and fades back into Shadow... the hour is getting later, and the spirit world will be rousing soon, he has business to attend to and patrol with the wolves later.
xxxxxEnd Pt. 1
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