[Mia] It’s bit of a drive out to Jeremiah’s property. Longer, of course, if ones options come down to a bus; rather pricey for a taxi. The address Joss had gotten is just on the outside of city limits, down towards the lake where the rich have their summer trophy homes and where a few other fortunate ones have smaller, modest homes they rent out over the summer. The directions lead her to a mail box just off a gravel road, thankfully well maintained. The road leads into a large wooded property up until about a quarter of a mile where it stops at a turn about and an allotted spots for parking vehicles. A much more narrow path continues up from there, though it is chained off with a sign that denies vehicular access.
She’s warned she’ll have to walk a bit.
Here the trees are allowed dominance and the marshy land where the property slips into the lake is allowed full weight. It is in these areas that Jeremiah’s true passion lies, not in the simple [pleasing] pass-time of gardening, but in the sensitive, sensual, sincere efforts of restoration. Of nurturing. In these places she moves like a woman from centuries long past, her goal not to bend the land to her will but rather to aid the land in thriving as much as possible. There are few who would appreciate such a thing in this age of bustling cities, of choking close quarters, of humans who seek no greater outdoors experience than a walk through a park more concrete and metal than greenery. For a sensitive few there is a sensation here that is more than serenity or peace, it is of a whispered, thriving hum. It speaks of Nature for Natures sake, rather than the whims and control of human goals.
It speaks of worship for the Mother in each vine saved from the blight; each tree kept from being senselessly hacked.
You can smell fresh, clean air; startling after emerging from the city proper. Here night sounds abound: The cry of an owl; the hush of small mammals scurrying over undergrowth and fallen leaves. The passage of a bat chasing moths by moonlight. The place thrives with a sense of ripening fertility as the first inkling promise of fall and Harvest begin to alter the weather.
It’s not a long walk, maybe 5 minutes or so, and then the wooded property opens up to a small clearing where the house is nestled; picturesque, small, cozy. The softer grass near the house, cleared of most major debris; this area is the only place that has a real sense of being manicured at all. The smells changing leaves of the trees and climbing vines and the soft hum of the generator that runs off the solar panels in the back of the house.
The tile-roofed, stone work house is dark.
But she is blind, so that may mean nothing.
[Joss Lehrer] She’d started out early, so that she could be on time, as she never knows how Althea will be feeling. The Van, that is. She’s in high spirits with the promise of a long drive, though, so the miles pass quickly under the worn wheels of the “Hippy Bus” that Decker fears might make folks think he’s gay. All the more reason for Joss to adore the thing, of course. Randi did a hell of a job fixing it up, and helping her rebuild the back section, and after the awakening, it works even better still.
She looks like she FITS out here, truth be told. She doesn’t bother locking up the VB bus – who would steal it anyway? and if anyone tried, Althea would let her know. – and when she swings down to start the walk, it’s with a content smile, a deep breath, and a bit of peace before she has to do the inevitable, the unthinkable.
Her dreads hang heavy and long down her back, with bits of beads and feathers tagged in here and there. Her sweater is warm, her skirts longer, hitting her almost at ankle length, and swish slightly as she walks. Her shoes are well worn, simple flats – all in earth tones. Her bag hanging at her hip, simple canvas with a wealth of stuff inside. She’s a simple girl, with simple tastes.
She’s also batshit nuts, most likely, but it’s a GOOD kind of crazy… right? Right.
Eventually she approaches the house, the door, and rings the bell.
[Mia] Before Joss gets more than a few feet away from the stone front steps there is barking from within the home. Not a panicked sound or the inane yapping of a small animal, but almost a mellow-toned query or acknowledgment. I, it seems to say know you’re out there.
There isn’t a bell, but there is a brass knocker, gone mottled with age, but charmingly so. The homes itself, nestled as it is among woods and gardens and hugged by the lake exudes a sense of calm charm, not really easy to find anywhere these days, especially not so relatively close to a city. Everything is well maintained, but not over fussed over. Perfection is not the goal. Perfection is the Namers mad design, not the province of a Fury kinfolk.
The barking doesn’t go on long and the last sound of it comes from farther away from the front of the house that it had initially sounded. A moment. Two. Then a voice Joss will recognize, muffled though it is through the door: “Who is it?”
[Connor Bradley] Mia’s house is dark, and quiet. Dark because the only person moving about in the main rooms is a blind woman. And quiet, because the only other person in the house is tucked away in a spare room with the lights out. Lying in bed with his head propped up by a pillow, watching Transformers on a thin laptop that rests on the desk in the corner. On the floor beside the couch there is a half glass of milk, and a plate with a few crumbs on it. The remains of an evening snack. The sound of Shiloh barking pulls his eyes away from the LCD screen toward the closed bedroom door. He lays there for a moment staring at the blank surface of the door, as though it might suddenly reveal the reason for all the noise in other parts of the house, and then finally after nothing appears, he shifts his eyes back to the screen and watches as Optimus Prime defiles some other evil robot with a glowing sword.
[Joss Lehrer] So, there’s a knocker, and she knocks. The dog barking doesn’t exactly surprise her – it’s almost expected, though she doubts he’ll like her very much. Considering why she’s out her, she doubts any of them will like her very much at all.
She tucks her hands into her pockets and waits patiently, and then smiles when she hears the question. “Mia? It’s Joss.”
[Mia] ooc: AUGH! No one DINGED me! *Shakes fist*
[Mia] The door opens in good order once Joss identifies herself, revealing Mia dressed in simple lounging/bedtime attire. Yoga pants of a dove gray, a lilac coloured three-quarter sleeve shirt and, on her feet, striped toe-socks in aubergine hue, god help us. For the benefit of her guest, Mia reaches knowingly for a lamp between the front door and the sofa, illuminating where heavy Braille tomb lays along with a discarded hand knit throw.
“Hi, Joss…” The blind kinswoman seems, well… amiably pleased enough but curious and, understandably, rather surprised as well. “This is unexpected.. but welcome… come on in.”
[Joss Lehrer] She smiles, though she knows that Mia can’t see it. It’s easy to tell it’s there in her voice though, in the way she breathes the way she speaks. It’s odd, to think a Fenrir can be so… content… all the time, yet she is.
“Sorry, I would have called, but Althea was in the mood for a drive, and we sort of ended up out here.”
There’s more. It’s under her voice, it’s woven through her breath. “That – and we need to talk.” Ominous indeed.
[Connor Bradley] Restless now, and having already seen Transformers a half dozen times, Connor rolls off the couch and hits the escape button on the laptop before reaching for the light switch. Stretching, he stops to pick up the half empty glass of milk, only to drain it. The plate and it’s crumbs are retrieved as well, and on socked feet he slips out of the room and into the hallway. Pausing briefly to listen before he pads toward the kitchen. His searching hazel eyes drifting over the living room and open kitchen area before settling on the dark entryway and the shapes there in.
After a moment of looking the figures over. Mia and Shiloh… and a late night caller. Connor moves around the island in the kitchen and rinses his glass and plate under a luke warm stream of water.
[Connor Bradley] ((sorry that post was waiting there for five minutes before I realized I didn’t hit send))
[Mia] “Althea is your van, yes?” She seems decidedly unsurprised that the young [though ranked] Theurge should give the vehicle a name, even knowing as she does that it is within the Fenrir’s capability to do so for reasons beyond just a fondness for an item. She grew up with talk of such things; she wouldn’t be surprised to hear of the van being Awakened, though many members of her own Tribe would raise an eyebrow [or downright sneer] at the notion of doing so for a piece of machinery. Whatever her own thoughts, the kinswoman takes the Naming with a jovial lightness; good humored. “I’m glad you came… do you want anything? There’s homemade apple cider…” Even as she speaks she’s clueing in on the fact that there seems to be something more to the Theurges tone; enough so that her smile begins to drift away, one jet eyebrow raising…
Confirmation comes in the form of those infamous words. She takes it in stride, though. After blinking eyes that act only as one-way mirrors now, she nods slowly. “Ah..” Sharp hearing picks up on Connors footfall as he makes his way into the opening living/kitchen space at the front of the house. Rather than turning her eyes in his direction she slightly turns her head so her left ear follows his movement… “Hey, Connor. Can you come here a sec? This is Joss Lehrer – Gossamer Wing, Fostern Theurge of the Get of Fenris, member of the Eagles… I told you about her a few days ago. Joss, this is Connor Bradley, your kinsmen.”
A beat.. she lets them say what they will, then, “Should we sit down?” Calm. Though, beneath it all, wary.
[Joss Lehrer] She laughs softly, easily. “Yes. Althea is my van.” She didn’t name her, however – she named herself, though Joss doesn’t explain that. There’s also reasons enough for having it awakened, aside from the fact that it just LIKES Joss more that way – but Mia’s unlikely to ever have to haul a great deal of shrapnel from an umbral battle back to the Caern for cleansing too. And building suits of armor for dog spirits. But that’s another story entirely…
“Apple cider sounds lovely, thank you.”
She turns to study the boy – and even though she is only a few years older than he is, she can’t help but think of him that way right off the bat – as he comes and she’s introducted. Her voice is warm, her smile as well as she nods to him. “Hi Conner. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
And when bid to do so, she takes a seat, unshouldering her bag and setting it at her feet.
[Connor Bradley] The teen turns off the water and sets the dishes in the bottom of the sink, glancing over his shoulder at Mia when she calls him. His throat working in a swallow, he pulls a towel off the stove door and dries his hands before slinging it back where he’d gotten it from. Slowly, tentatively he makes his way around the kitchen island and toward the door where Mia and Shiloh stand greeting their guest. He rakes his fingers through loose curls of dark brown hair, and then stands behind and to the right of Mia as she makes the introduction. He’s a teenager, but he’s on the road to manhood. His jaw has the beginings of a chiseled quality. His shoulders are broad. There is a shadow of what might be stubble on his chin. He looks Joss over with guarded hazel eyes before speaking in a voice that has deepened beyond the crackling tenor of puberty. “Hi.”
He glances then at Mia, and then back at Joss. He wears his uncertainty on his sleeve, much like most of his emotions. Perhaps not a common trait amongst the Fenris. “Uh… It’s nice to meet you.”
[Mia] While Connor and Joss speak [barely. one ease and warmth, the other obviously uncertain but trying] she moves into the kitchen, walking with an ease of motion she can truly only manage in her own home and a goodly amount of the land around it. Habit and memory enable her to walk without need of guide-cane or guide-dog… Shiloh, the adult golden retriever, is laying near the wood-burning stove, head on her forepaws. There is a slight tension – an alertness – to the animal that cannot be denied in Joss’ presence, but through years of training and a particular attention to acclimating the canine to Garou the animal remains relatively at ease. As much as possible, at least.
Fetching a glass of the cider – served right now as a refreshment rather than the warm variant meant to drive away a chill – she makes her way back to the living space, reaching out a hand to find Connor’s shoulder [it’s his elbow she finds first, then bicep, then shoulder] squeezing there slightly as if for reassurance. Beckoning him with a lifting of her chin she moves to the sofa and stops to listen for the sound of Joss’ breathing… then makes her way towards it, holding out the glass.
The roll of a good hostess taken care of she sits down in the armchair next to the stove, turning blind eyes towards the Theurge so that they settle just at the younger womans [more] right shoulder, eyes never quite focusing… “What’s going on, Joss? Did your Jarl disapprove of our tentative arrangement?” She had known this might be the case. She’s a practical woman, not naive. But she had hoped her fears would be unfounded.
Of course, when she speaks of the Fenrir Jarl, she is thinking of Decker Rahl, having no idea such is not the case at the moment.
[Joss Lehrer] Shetakes the glass of cider, and smiles softly. “Thank you, Mia.” before she settles back into the couch, and tucks a foot under her knee. She is the type to curl up comfortably, feet on the couch, and skirts flared, though she refrains as she’s not at home, in her own place. She can be refined. Sort of.
Mia goes straight to the heard of the matter, and she sighs, softly.
“Decker has left the city for a time, he’s gone home for his rank challenge. As is custom among us, the strongest leads the tribe – not necessarily the next in rank. Unfortunately, that strongest is not me.” She laughs, easily. It’s hard to believe that under her skin, under those dreads, under her smile – there is a monster that kills as easily as she breathes. “It’s Joe Holst. War-Handed.”
She waits a beat to see if there’s any recognition there, then admits softly. “He disapproves. However, he approves of me.” And that can make a world of difference, when it comes to acceptance.
[Connor Bradley] Obediently, Connor follows the two women back into the kitchen. He takes a seat across from Joss, perched on the edge of his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. Intelligent hazel gaze shifting from one woman to the other as they talk back and forth. Did your Jarl disapprove… A dark eyebrow hitches slightly at the term. An Adam’s apple bobs beneath the flesh of his throat as he clears it and swallows. He doesn’t interject, or ask questions. He just listens, and he trust Mia to ask the right questions for him.
Because he’s new to all of this. He listens to what Joss has to say, and then looks expectantly at Mia.
[Mia] Jeremiah isn’t [for the most part] the sort to rush ahead and jump to conclusions, whether from her own make-up or long years observing and absorbing the ways of her Philodox Aunt, by far the person whose presence most dominates her years, outside of one who died a decade ago. Her Aunt, also, is now gone; fallen in battle as is all too often the case, but still her presence lingers.
She listens. Intently. Intelligently. Silently. When the new leaders name is mentioned there isn’t anything more than perhaps a vague recognition.. a name she’s maybe heard somewhere in the passing gossip of kinfolk with too much time on their hands.
Beneath her basic digestion of this news there is, it should be noted, something like mingled relief and compassion: Relief that it’s still Joss she gets to deal with, if nothing more. Compassion because she doubts the Fenrir particularly likes these turn of events. But duty is duty. Jeremiah understands duty as far more than just a word to which one gives lip-service.
There is worry, too. Concern and genuine affection. Protectiveness. Though one would rightly assume these were directed not at the Theurge, but the teenager sitting there, casting glances at Jeremiah, so very new to all this. New and trusting of Jeremiah if only because there’s no one else at hand.
“I see….” In so much as she can, at least. Her lips quirk, her next words an old habit, an after thought. “Pardon the pun.” Then, somber once more, “So what does he require of you? Of us I suppose…”
[Connor Bradley] ((I really wish I had it in me to stay up guys, but i’m nursing a killer cold out of existence and need to hit the sack… can you guys carry on without Connor and let me know what happens with him? He’ll be pretty much as is now… quiet contemplative that sorta thing.))
to Joss Lehrer, Mia
[Joss Lehrer] She takes a sip of her cider, and considers how she’s going to, and finally just decides to be upfront. “Joe doesn’t understand the circumstances, and isn’t as lenient as I would have been due to what you’ve suffered, Connor. I’m to bring him with me.”
Short, simple. But only deceptively so. “But I can assure you that I understand far more than he does the importance of not losing contact with Mia, and will do everything I can to ease the transition, to ensure it’s as easy as it can be for you.”
And she means it – that much is clear. Though she’s not necessarily sure she’s up for taking on the care and keeping of a kinfolk – she feels she’s at least more suitable than Joe Holst to ensure the transition is as easy as it can be.
[Joss Lehrer] (aw! We can pause if you’d rather? Whatevers good for you.)
to Connor Bradley, Mia
[Connor Bradley] ((You all carry on and if it comes to a point where either of you think Connor might pitch a fit or… I dunno… whatever *laughs* then call it and we can pick up another time. I’m good for Wednesday night. Otherwise, he’s prepared for this, and has told himself it’s going to happen wether they like it or not, so he’s not liable to resist going with Joss.))
to Joss Lehrer, Mia
[Joss Lehrer] (If nothing else, she has a COOL VAN! and you know, she is cute. and young. :) Gt some rest, you!)
to Connor Bradley, Mia
[Mia] ooc: Actually, I’m gonna say let’s pause it here, since irregardless Mia is gonna want to talk to Connor for a moment. Sooo.. wednesday night? *laughs*
[Joss Lehrer] ooc: Wed should be fine for me. :)
[Connor Bradley] (… alrighty. Heh. Wednesday night then. Thanks ladies. And sorry I am passing out on you.)
to Joss Lehrer, Mia
[Mia] ooc: Goddammit, I forgot to hit transcript again! GAH!
[Joss Lehrer] *L* I got it.