Dreams and things.

[flint_garou]

More dreams, more discussion.
5 January, 2012
The moon is in the waxing Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (77% full).

As with yesterday, Mouse has claimed a spot on the couch for her own, and is busily typing away at her laptop. Unlike yesterday, she's also got a mug of coffee steaming at her end of the coffee table, as well as an ashtray that is already sporting two cigarette butts, with the third cigarette still work its way down between her lips. She also looks, shall we say, far more tired, and her typing seems to be interrupted now and then by occasional involuntary twitches.

Kevin comes sauntering downstairs with a basket full of washing (mostly t-shirts and boxer shorts), heading for the laundry room. He checks to see who's on door duty and bids Mouse a cheery "Hi there," as he passes.

"I'm not taking you there again today," comes Devon's voice from the stairwell. He sounds on the verge of exasperated, as close to angry as the boy has shown in his time since coming to the Tenement. Hands are shoved deep into his pockets, a slight hunch given to his shoulders as he steps foot out of the stairwell and onto the floor. A glance over his shoulder turns slightly darker with derisiveness at the cub following a few steps behind.

Slug drifts down the hallway with a cup of noodle in his hand, picking at it with a plastic fork. He doesn't go into the lobby proper, he just lingers near the entrance of one of the hallways. He slurps his needles and watches the two inside, largely remaining silent.

"I said okay," Flint says, shifting the book in his arms to hug it tighter to his chest. "Sorry for asking." The cub turns in a different direction at the edge of the stairwell, half his gaze on the door to the basement, as if his reasons for coming downstairs might be other than just following Devon.

The front door buzzes, and Tim raises his hand-rolled cigarette to the camera and mouths a "Hi," his smile all teeth.

Mouse lifts her head slightly as the lobby, as it is sometime wont to do, becomes suddenly very busy. "Could you get that?" she asks in Devon's general direction. Click, click. "It's Tim." Kevin gets a nod. "Hey."

Kevin pauses and leans against the wall with his washing, waiting to see who's at the door.

Devon frowns after Flint, mouth poised to say something to the cub's reply. The younger boy is saved, however, when the thought is interrupted by Mouse's request. He looks toward the elder and nods with a, "Yeah, no problem." Though as he turns toward the door his expression becomes more askance, even mouthing 'Tim' in question. Even that is short lived, something more neutral gracing his features as he opens the door for the man on the other side.

Tim ashes out his cigarette just as the door opens, adding it to a tin from his jacket pocket. "Hey," he says, nodding a guarded hello to Devon that has not a hint of recognition. "Mouse around? I wanted to pass along a little information." He hesitates, then adds, "Name's Tim, if that helps."

Slug walks over to Mouse, starting to approach her from behind without realizing it. He moves off to the side when he gets closer, standing near the couch. "Oi, Mouse-rhya. Sorry I didn't say goodbye the other night. How's stuff?"

Flint nods in greeting to Mouse and then to Kevin, before the boy (and the book) find a spot on the armchair closest to the entrance to the basement. Gaze darts up to Tim, and another nod is offered, but mostly the boy's wary gaze returns to Devon. "You're right, okay?" It's half under his breath, but audible nonetheless.

"Stuff's fine," Mouse says around her cigarette, without lifting her eyes from the screen. "In here, Tim. —Flint, don't push things, the moon's fat."

"Well well, another prodigal son," drawls Kevin. "Let the man in."

"Yeah," Devon says, albeit unnecessarily, tipping his head toward Mouse's perch. He steps aside to let the man enter, closing the door behind him. "I'm Devon…" His tone trailing, he directs a look at Flint, a slight tightening in his jaw. "C'n I get you some coffee or something, Tim?"

"No thanks, I'm good," Tim says, revealing a classic paper cup of something aromatic (tea, to those with sharper noses) in one hand. Once the door is shut, he says, "New Moon from Owl's Tribe," for Devon's benefit. He nods a greeting to Kevin and Flint, then his eyes pause on Slug. It takes him a moment, then he gestures with the cup. "Basil. How the hell are you?"

Slug smiles when Tim addresses him by his old name, then he actually laughs a bit. He scratches behind his head, then shrugs his shoulders. "Actually, I'm not Basil." He tips his head in Tim's direction, then throws him a jaunty wave. "I'm Slug, Black-Light, Fostern Bone Gnawer Ragabash."

Mouse steals a brief moment as introductions are tossed around to squint more closely at her screen, then taps the touchpad a few times. The fingers on her left hand flex, then curl inward.

Flint just nods at Mouse's words, his book opening in his lap to some page that he'd had marked, half his gaze still on the door to the basement.

Kevin gives a dreadful twitch when Tim uses That Name and a pair of boxer shorts slips from the top of his clothes basket to land on the floor by his feet.

"Full moon, Glass Walker," Devon asides to the Strider. He jams his hand back into its pocket, edging away from the door. A look passes from Tim to Slug, chased by a shrug and shake of his head.

"Ah…ha," Tim says, eyes narrowing when Slug says 'Ragabash'. "Right. Slug. Good to meet you. Tim, from Owl's Tribe. Also a Dark Moon," he replies with a coy grin, then addresses Mouse. "I wanted to run a couple of things by you. A dream, and some things in the scarred forest's Umbra."

Mouse reaches out and closes the lid of her laptop. "Lay them on me." She finally lifts her head, looking at Tim. Oh yes, she looks tired. "If they're anything like mine, I'm sure they've been great fun." Sarcaaasm.

"It's always nice to meet another Ragabash, especially one that's my senior. I'm sure I could learn a lot from you, if you let me, Tim-Rhya." Slug goes silent when the when the Ragabash starts to talk business, leaning back into the couch near Mouse. "Uhm… Dreams? Like, the one that you were talking about with Salem the other night?"

Salem lets himself in through the front door. He stops a moment to squint at the gathering in the lobby, then grimaces and shuts the door behind him.

Flint puts his finger to mark his place in the book, sitting up a little bit straighter as the talk of dreams happens, but still remaining silent.

Devon glances toward the door when it opens again, nodding faintly at Salem. He picks his way around the lobby before coming to stand where he can see the goings on within the seating area.

Tim takes a sip from his cup and nods at Slug, replying, "I bet you know some things you could teach me too. Wisdom goes both ways, and all." He moves in further and settles against one of the walls. "Well, I guess we can start with the dream. I used Unfettered Dreaming in the Caern Umbra last night." He looks askance at Kevin, giving him a tip of his chin, maybe in thanks. "I was just viewing it, basically, wasn't in it myself. And I saw a woman, she was pregnant—like, really pregnant, close to term—and she was walking in a huge, empty desert. She'd been part of a big group of people, but they were all dead and dying behind her, like they'd been journeying a long way and the rest couldn't make it…" He stops, eyes going distant, and adds, "Or, like they sacrificed themselves to make sure her and the kid, maybe kids, made it. And she was heading towards this big feast set out on a table. Everything you could want or need, it was there." He drinks more tea. "She was dressed in orange and black," he adds as an afterthought.

Kevin stoops to pick up his lost laundry. As Tim starts to tell his tale, he remains in a squatting position, looking up at the Strider and paying close attention to his story.

"Hey, Jack," Mouse says, as Salem steps in. After that, however, it's all narrow eyed concentration as Tim speaks, and her eyes only get narrower as he goes on. A frown tugs at her lips. Puff, puff goes the cigarette.

Salem jerks his head in a nod back at Mouse, then takes up station near the door, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.

"Uhm… " Slug starts to scratch at the side of his head, his fingers running through his hair. "Like, a guess would be that the woman symbolizes Gaia, the dessert is the dying world. The journey is like, time passing by, and the people that died to make sure she made it are… Like. Us?" Slug glances sidelong at Mouse, then back at Tim, and back at Mouse. "Or something. I kinda had a weird dream myself, but I have a lot of those so I don't… Know, which ones are messages, and which ones are junk food."

Flint closes the book again, setting it to the side, abandoning the attempt to read. The cub pulls his knees up to his chest, head resting on the top of his knees as he listens.

"There was safety and shelter around the table too." Tim pauses, possibly going over the dream in his mind a few more times, then nods to himself. He shrugs at Slug, and gestures at Mouse. "This is why I'm telling her." He addresses the Walker Elder again. "For the rest, it's mostly about spirits." He drinks from his tea, looking like he has to marshal his thoughts. "There's bees swarming in the Shadow around the scarred forest. I didn't get near them so I can't say if they're aggressive or not. I asked Chu'mana to have a look around all these thorns, and see if any of the spirits would chat with her. The smaller predators don't mind the brambles much, but she said she's had a hell of a time finding mice and frogs. I mean, not that they'd like to talk to her anyways? But she's noticed they're not around as much. The ones who eat bugs, specifically." He taps the cup. "The big predator spirits aren't jazzed about the thorns, since they make it tough to get around and hunt."

"There were bees here," Devon interjects quietly. "Swarm of them, came up during the winter solstice rite. Just before the thorns grew."

"Devon? Mouse?" Kevin interjects. "Would Tim be a good person to mention that idea of Devon's to? The one about the burrowing spirits?"

"Yes," Mouse says, distractedly again. She looks above Tim, focusing on the wall over the door, and then her focus seems to narrow again. "A large number of Walkers, Lefty, and Jacob have all had the same dream in the past week. Animals fleeing towards us, building an ark, steering through a storm toward a silver fountain. There was a woman in it, rather than, you know, God. And the past two nights, I've had…calling them dreams would be an exaggeration. Impressions of being different animals, I think. Restless. Searching. Wandering. They're still in my head and it's a little distracting." She says that just a bit louder, as if whatever entity sent the dreams could hear her. "But do you remember, a few months ago? I was saying the spirits in the Harbor Park Glade were agitated, because the Glade seemed a tiny bit weaker? And I remember some fuss about a strange bush on the bawn, two months before that. Lured someone in with a smell, then caught her."

"I had the dream with Noah's ark, too." Slug half-mumbles, reaching into his jacket pocket for a lollipop. He unwraps it and sticks it into his mouth, looking thoughtful as he nurses it.

Salem, listening, fishes for his cigarettes and eventually lights up.

Tim snaps his fingers. "Tori, I think it was. One of the Get." He rubs his fingers together. "The woman on the boat wasn't dressed in orange and black?" He asks Mouse, but his eyes glance to the other Walkers as well. Then he blinks. "Wait, who…who was it who did the Talesinging the Moot after the Hunt." He looks focused now. "Was it Jacey? Or the Bone Gnawer—Rat-Tale?"

Devon's eyes slant toward Kevin, brows drawing together slightly. "Yeah, I… Would still like to look into that. I'm… I looked into the root system on the bawn, with the vines and thorns on this side of the Gauntlet. It's not like anything I've ever seen before, but to say the growth is unnatural isn't entirely accurate."

Flint looks up at Tim, answering the question. "No, she was wearing a dress, silver-coloured," he adds, before falling silent. "Pretty sure of that." "And she wasn't on the boat, just … before the boat."

Mouse shakes her head. "Silvery dress, not pregnant. I'd say Luna, rather than Gaia, if we're picking between the two, but I'm not sold on it necessarily being either of them. She was directing the ark building, so to speak. Thing is…" Her eyes hood. "That dream, and your dream, and my half-not-quite-dreams do seem to have one common thread."

Kevin nods to confirm his recollection of the dream figure. "The animals seem to be the key, don't they? To all of these dreams. And to the bawn overgrowth problem."

"So, maybe not the same woman," Tim says, and he nods at Mouse in agreement. He doesn't leave off his other line of inquiry for long, though, and moves away from the wall to turn in a circle. "One of the Gibbous said something about…orange and black, when they were doing the Talesinging for the Hunt. Something." He shuts his eyes, then says, "She said there was a sister in orange and black, wherever the Hunt was." He opens his eyes and looks around him, stopping at Kevin. "You went, didn't you? Were you in the Realm, or the Shadow?"

"What happened to the person caught in the bush?" Slug asks, glancing between those gathered in the lobby. The Ragabash huffs and folds his arms behind his head, leaning back with his eyes directed towards the ceiling. "Kinda obvious it's some sort of message or something. Too bad we don't know the sender."

"Not necessarily the animals," Mouse says. "Although I think they may be, in part anyway, what it's referring to. The lack of small prey animal spirits alarms me. The brambles should be providing them more protection, and yet suddenly they're scarce." Her gaze flicks to Salem, then to Tim. "But there's a sense of a journey through danger—a desert, a flood—a hard one, and then, at the end, shelter and plenty. Even the half dreams I'm having have the…animals, moving around, wandering or searching."

"I was in the Realm," Kevin replies to Tim. "Zosia was there, and August the Gaian, and… Rat-Tail I think… and Marcos… I don't remember anything about an orange and black woman. All I remember is the snake, and this one guy who totally exploded."

Salem's brow furrows thoughtfully. The scarred halfmoon continues to listen, keeping his own council.

Mouse offers, in a musing tone, "Orange and black isn't dissimilar to bee or wasp colors. They also make me think of the harvest season."

"What if the brambles are eating the critters, like venus fly traps? Or maybe the brambles themselves or their berries are toxic, and the little things chew or eat them, and then die." Slug theorizes aloud, shooting out whatever comes to mind. "Maybe the bramble tips are poisonous."

"That…" Devon looks at Mouse, teeth toying with his lip as he considers. "What… The Caern's a safe place. Theoretically. The brambles… From what I can tell, seem to be forming a ring, wrapping around the Caern. Could… do you think the animal spirits are hiding around the Caern?"

"More like tiger colours than bees," Kevin suggests to Mouse.

Salem grunts. "Except there haven't been any tigers about lately, have there?"

"Exploded? Ugh." Tim has the last of his tea (probably to wash the thought away) and puts the empty cup into his coat pocket, then runs his hands through his hair. "There's black and orange wasps," he says, glancing between Devon and Kevin. "Not sure about bees, though. And there was a wasp spirit at one of the Moots. Zosia and Norman chatted with it."

Mouse jerks her chin toward Slug. "That's what I was wondering. If maybe those brambles are carnivorous." She looks at Devon, but instead of answering, she looks back to Tim. "Do you know anyone who's had that ark dream who lives out near the Bawn?" She adds, "The Winter Winds rite was attacked by giant wasps that weren't Wyrm tainted."

"Just goes to prove my method works!" Kevin grins to Salem. "Oops, sorry, wrong joke…" He shuts up.

Devon tips his head toward the elder, mouth twisting off to one side. "Meant wasps. I was there, helped keep them from getting to the fire."

"The easier way to find out would be to get some hamsters or something, and release them on the bawn. Like, all male ones. So they can't breed, on the off chance they get away." Slug grins a little at Mouse. "And you can like, use your heat-vision-gift-thing to track them and see what happens."

Salem grimaces at Kevin.

Tim shakes his head at Mouse. "No, haven't heard anyone mention it." He squints at the news about the Winter Winds rite. "Where was it held?"

Mouse says to Tim, "On the Bawn." Her eyes narrow again, and she leans over to stub out her cigarette before fishing for another. "I don't think the shelter the dreams are hinting at is the Caern. Why would we need dreams about that? Why the ark symbolism, or the journeying through a giant desert?"

Slug shrugs his shoulders and sucks on his candy, his eye roaming between all those assembled in the room.

Flint tilts his head further to the side in listening, a shrug mostly hidden by the boy's current seated position.

Tim mouths 'heat vision gift thing', mostly to himself, then blows out a breath. "In mine the woman is going to shelter that's waiting for her, but in yours, you had to build shelter for yourselves and others—not the woman in your dream. And in yours, you take the journey, but in mine, she did." He looks around the room, maybe checking to see if that assessment is accurate, though he doesn't wait for replies. "So maybe it's not the same shelter. Maybe there's two things going on here."

"Or," Mouse says, lifting the hand with her cigarette, "Maybe it's two sides of the same thing. We took the journey, but it wasn't to the creatures needing shelter. They came to us, we built the ark, then it was steering through the storm with everyone."

Kevin waves the hand that isn't clutching his laundry basket, to convey that he just doesn't know. He seems reluctant to speak again with Salem's eye on him.

Slug shrugs his shoulders at Tim with a bit of a sly smile. The Gnawer just suckles on his candy and listens in silence, not sure what to think one way or the other.

"Think it could be some of this's already happened," Devon asks to no one in particular. "Like some of you are dreaming things that've happened. And some are dreaming things that could or are happening?"

"Could be," Tim admits, then murmurs under his breath, "Riddles in riddles in riddles." Clearing his throat and looking like he's preparing to leave, he says, "Alright, well, I'll maybe try going into Dream again after a few days, see if anything changes or if I get something new. And I'll pass word to the Gibbous outside the city, see if they can ask around about the ark dream."

"Of course," Kevin says cautiously, "sometimes dreams are just dreams. I mean, I once dreamt I was Professor Snape. Doesn't mean I actually killed Dumbledore."

Mouse purses her lips. "Thanks, Tim. Keep us informed."

"Later, Tim. Thanks for the news. We can catch up sometime, or something like that." Slug waves to the departing Ragabash.

"Good meeting you," Devon offers with a small nod, looking to the Strider as he sets to leave.

Tim surveys Kevin, then grins. "I dunno, you look kinda guilty to me…" He sobers and bobs his head at Mouse. "Sure thing. Catch you all later." With a wave for everyone in the room, he ducks out the door into the brisk afternoon.

"Cheek!" Kevin hollers after Tim indignantly.

Flint looks up, a wave and a grin given to the departing Ragabash, before the cub turns to regard everyone else. "Puzzles," the boy mutters under his breath, shaking his head a little.

Mouse slumps a little against the couch, looking thoughtful.

Salem stubs out his cigarette with a grimace and heads over to the collection of chairs and such.

"I meant to ask you some spiritual questions last night that we never quite got around to due to… Unforeseen events. But I'd like to chat with you about them sometime, Mouse-Rhya." Slug rises up from his seat and grunts, rubbing at his lower back. "But I think now, I'm going to go walk around the halls and stuff."

Devon leans back a little, shoulders resting against the wall and gaze off on some inconsequential point. "…How hard would it be to move the entire sept into the Caern if it were needed," he asks aloud, though quietly enough he could be just be musing to himself.

"Been done," Kevin points out. "That time I was telling you about, Mouse. When the Spirals attacked what was then the Walker hangout. Mr Salem probably knows more about it, he was there."

Mouse nods at Slug, and then narrows one eye at Devon, then Kevin. "I ain't moving to the Caern."

Flint looks up a bit more, his gaze resting somewhere in the middle of the coffee table now, but more obviously listening than he had been before. From there, though, the true focus of his gaze moves around the edge of his vision, following the conversation.

"I think he means like, if the thorns surrounding the caern turn out to be a metaphorical ark. And we have to escape the flood. Or something." Slug murmurs in passing, walking off down one of the halls.

Salem slouches into a chair. "Caern's not big enough to support all of us anyway."

"I wasn't suggesting we move there indefinitely." Devon's head lowers a little, lean becoming nearer to a slouch. "More like what Slug's said. How many could it hold if it were supplied to keep people in it?"

Salem scratches at his chest idly. "It can hold the whole Sept for a Moot, but things tend to get a bit crowded. Anyway, why would the thorns be an ark? In my dream, the flood was green."

"I reckon if there's any ark, it's going to be saving the critters from the bawn, not taking them to it. And saving us, too," Kevin adds.

Mouse shakes her head. "Not many. And if it meant the caern…" Her lips twitch around her cigarette. "I'll wait and see if Tim or the Galliards find anyone out there who've had the ark dream. But I'm not going to go sit in the Caern to wait out the metaphorical storm."

Devon nods a little, eyes lifting to look toward the elder Garou present. "I don't know, just speculating. I'd still like to see what's going on with the brambles in the Umbra, find out if it's 'growing' the same way there as it is here."

Flint remains silent through this, shifting to curl up in the a little bit more, gaze eventually falling on Devon.

Mouse says to Devon, "It is."

Salem asks, "Is it still expanding?"

"Far as I know," Kevin says cheerfully.

"What I hear it is," Devon says with a nod. "Seems to be all one plant, the creepers and the thorny parts. Roots are linked and pretty much all the same."

Mouse nods at Salem. "Yeah. Slowly now, but it is."

Salem grimaces. "That is a very large fucking plant."

Mouse stubs out her second cigarette. "Like the world's most pissed off blackberry bush."

"What the hell gets a blackberry bush pissed off?" queries Kevin.

Mouse answers without hesitation, "Trying to get rid of it."

"Mmmyes, that'd piss me off," Kevin concedes.

Flint looks over between Mouse and Kevin. "Or contain it," the boy offers, fingers drumming on the side of the chair.

"Makes sense," Devon says, "especially if this isn't a normal thing. Though some plants thrive when you cut them back. Causes them to grow faster, bigger."

"This isn't just a plant, though," says Salem, getting up. "It's a force of the Wyld, or heavily influenced by it. And the Wyld does not like to be controlled." He heads for the stairs.

Mouse gives Salem a nod as he passes, and narrows her eyes slightly. Thoughtful again. "We need to find out what's happening to the small prey animal spirits. Quickly."

"That's your department more than mine," Kevin points out to the Theurge.

Salem gives a nod and heads up the stairs.

Mouse's expression turns, briefly, faintly sour. She doesn't say anything as she fishes a third cigarette from her rather battered pack.

Devon casts a faint grin in Kevin's direction, likely sharing the same thought about spirit dealings. "Could go for a look, even if you couldn't talk to them."

Flint glances between the three Garou present, then towards the stairwell. "Mouse-rhya, Kevin-rhya," the boy says, pushing himself to his feet, "Devon-rhya." A nod is given. "I should um," and he gestures faintly back towards the stairwell, book in hand.

"Well, if I can help…" Kevin offers. "Later, Flint."

Mouse gives Flint a nod. She leans over and opens up her laptop again.

Devon's eyes flick toward Flint then back to Mouse and Kevin. He lifts a shoulder, in kind to a nod.

Flint nods again, before disappearing into the stairwell, the door shutting quietly behind him.