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The Gnawer's Rite of the Super Bowl 2012

PostPosted: Mon Feb 06, 2012 3:14 pm
by InleRah

Old Condemned Library: Ground Floor(#868RJ)
The library's ground level is one large room punctuated by even rows of pier columns that confidently hold the weight of the upper floors. The building is old but solid, its lath and plaster walls dark with age. Here and there some of the plaster has worn off to reveal the wooden slats beneath. Heavy, dark grained and decorated mahogany wainscoting runs the length of the walls, complimented by thick, ornate crown molding along the ceiling and each of the columns. It's clear from the dilapidated condition that the building's been abandoned for decades. There is a somber, sepulchral quietness to the place, even when alive with people, that is perhaps a ghostly echo of the rigid, required silence that its wardens demanded when the library was in its heyday.
(NOTE: extensive important details in +view - please read)

Super Bowl Tray(#914)
Wrong Way

Obvious exits:
Front Door Basement Staircase

Super Bowl Tray(#914)
Lefty has put out a spread of food. There are bbq wings, chips, dips, cheetos, peanuts, some deli sandwiches, donuts, and lots of soda. There's also a crudely crafted but fairly delicious looking home made cake. Half the cake has a Flying Elvis that looks like it was hand drawn by a three year old. The other half has the lowercase ny logo of the Giants, painted in white icing. Don't look too closely. Not all of the food seems fresh or store bought.

Lefty's busy decorating the place in red, white and blue, since that happens to be the colors of both teams this year. She's already laid out a spread of food, and the TV is currently on Animal Planet where puppies are romping all over the place in a football field playpen.

Wrong Way looks up from her nest between bookcases, and scootches out to where she can see the television. Her head tips to the side as she watches the pups romp.

Lefty drapes the lamps with tissue paper streamers and bunting. she's humming to herself as she does it, when all of a sudden a stream of epithets escapes her mouth. she looks back at the lupus in her nest. "I forgot the hat."

Wrong Way's ears perk, at first drawn back and then forward. Hat! She rises to her feet and turns to push through the nest of pillows and fabric with her nose. Eventually, she comes up with a woolly hat in greys and blues with a few rather obvious holes. Hat, she indicates, as she presents her prize to Lefty.

Lefty practically beams. She moves over to the lupus and takes the offered wooly hat, examining it. "Perfect!" she declares, and reaches down to thank the lupus with a kiss between the theurge's ears. Then she's off to set the hat in an honored place near the TV.

Wrong Way holds still for the kiss, and then gives a little shake, the loll of her tongue making her own mood clear. She watches Lefty, confusion flickering through her posture, and settles again, closer to the TV. Pups.

Lefty fusses with the wooly hat a little more, until she is happy with how it's sitting. then she's off again to continue decorating. The puppies on the TV romp and play and fall into the huge water bowl built into the floor of the playing field. Eventually, Lefty comes back and falls into a heap on the floor, against a pillow nearby Wrong Way. "Screw it. That's good enough, right?"

Good enough, the lupus agrees, and reaches across to lick at Lefty's face. Pulling back again, she settles in to watch the romp of the pups on TV.

Lefty grins at the returned "kiss". She too settles back to watch the parade of cute for a while. As usual, though, the Gnawer can only site still for a few minutes before she's up again. "You want a soda?" she asks.

Lefty is lounging in front of the tc with Wrong Way curled up nearby. The homid has a soda, and the lupus is entranced with Animal Planet's Puppy Bowl. They have yet to actually put the game's pregame show on.

Into the library and eventually where the party's at walks Stacey, bearing a grocery bag. "Hey, guys!" she greets with a light grin. "This place is /great/. When did you find it? I love it so far... And, I brought some mini sausages," she adds, lifting the bag.

Lefty hops up. When she sees Stacey, the Gnawer's jaw drops. "Girl! When did you get back in town?" with a laugh, she throws away all convention and hugs the Gaian tightly.

Stacey laughs and hugs Lefty tightly in return. "Few weeks ago. I'm still making the rounds, letting everyone know. Heard about this party and couldn't resist showing up. How have you /been/?"

Despite it being unlocked, there's a knock at the library's front doors. Hey, look, Walkers! Mouse comes bearing gifts--or at least, bearing a glass dish covered with tinfoil and smelling of gravy and stuffing.

Lefty is grinning ear to ear. "Weeks huh? Dammit, I'm a slacker. I shoulda known. Have you seen Jacob?" The mere mention of the Gaian Galliard creates a small but noticable flicker of concern in the Gnawer's eye. IT's gone in a flash, though. "Here, let me take those." she ushers Stacey and the groceries to where the other food is.

Lefty looks up at the knock, grin widening when seeing Mouse. "Come on in!" she shouts.

Salem looms behind Mouse, looking moderately more cleaned up than what's usual for him these days. He's carrying a case of beer, good old fashioned Coors Silver Bullet, which is probably what passes for humor for the scarred old halfmoon.

Mouse pushes inside, holding the door for Salem with the hand not tucked around the dish she's brought. Lefty gets a smile that is painfully strained, despite the festive mood and definitely despite her usual ability to mask such things. "Where do we put food stuff? I've got a casserole." And then, "It's a /good/ casserole."

Stacey chuckles as she sets her bag down. "Well, the Galliards have been busy with other things, no doubt. Yes, I've seen Jacob. And he's fine. Don't worry, Lefty, I'm watching out for him, eh?" She gives the Gnawer a reassuring smile. Turning to see who else entered, she expression brightens again. "Hey, Mouse. And Salem! Damn, it's been a while."

Lefty puts her good hand on Stacey's gently for a moment and whispers, "We'll talk later." she leaves it enigmatically at that and moves over to the Walkers. "Here here!" she says, pointing to the old librarian's desk where there's a bunch of food already out. The beer is grinned at, widely.

Only a minute or so after the two Glass Walkers go inside, two further guests turn up, these being from the Get of Fenris. Viv is dressed in her usual leather jacket, boots and grubby t-shirt; she's carrying a large glass bowl with aluminum foil spread over the top of it. "You reckon this is the place, Norman?" she says to her companion as she peers at the library, dubiously.

Salem looks rather startled at Stacey's presence. "They're /still/ coming back," he remarks, to no one in particular. Expressed bemused, he goes to set the beer over with the rest of the food.

Wrong Way seems utterly entranced by the television, not even an ear twitching to acknowledge the other arrivals.

Lefty is rather hyper, bouncing back and forth as more people arrive. "Hello!" she greets the Get, waving them in. The Gnawer stands a little taller, apparently very proud of both the party set up and her new home--the library itself. "Come on in. Come on in," she says, grinning.

Mouse glances over her shoulder at that familiar, accented voice, and then turns abruptly frontward, this time following behind Salem instead of vice versa. Her expression is, very briefly, far more tense than before.

Norman peers at the untidy scrawl on the scrap of paper he holds. His handwriting, strangely given his rune-work- is /horrible/. He's spared answering as Lefty greets them, and prepares to scurry in on Viv's heels.

Stacey nods to Lefty, offering another reassuring smile, and then she chuckles at Salem. "Yeah, I've heard there's been a lot of returns lately. The spirits pointed me back home, so maybe they did so for others, too, feeling aid was needed?"

Viv grins at Lefty. "Thanks. This your new place, then? Here, I brought some food. Proper Aussie pertato-mash." She brandishes the bowl at Lefty as if it's an offensive weapon. And anyone who's eaten Viv's cooking might suspect that it is. "You know Norman, don't you?"

"I made waffles?" Norman offers, pulling forward his other hand with a full bag. He gives Stacey a look of complete non-recognition, frowns at Lefty as if he thinks he /ought/ to know her, and nods a greeting to Salem and Mouse.

Lefty's eyes widen at the bowl. "Excellent! Thanks, Viv." The bowl is taken, and the Gnawer makes her way back to the table to add it to the goodies. As she goes, Mouse is given a small surreptitious look.

Lefty stops in her tracks at the mention of waffles. The Gnawer's practically drooling at all the various foods. She's back in a flash to relieve Norman of his bag. "Thanks!"

Salem nods distractedly to Stacey. "Just in time for everything to go..." He pauses as if reconsidering his next words, then shrugs and turns to give the arriving Get a nod before going over to sit down, crosslegged, next to Wrong Way.

Wrong Way looks up as Salem settles, and she licks the whiskers along one side of her muzzle before letting her jaw drop open in a grin. Pups!

Mouse gives Lefty a brief, apologetic look, no less strained, and sets her dish on the table. Her voice doesn't reflect her feelings at all--it's light, deceptively cheerful. "Stuffing, chicken, and gravy. It doesn't look like much, but it's good. Old packmate of mine taught me how to make it."

Mouse adds, "Gnawer."

Viv returns Salem's nod politely enough as she slowly walks inside, looking like a wild west lawman entering a saloon which may or may not contain rustlers and which only has one entry and exit. She doesn't sit down, yet, but leans on the wall by the door of the room in which the other garou are gathering. "What's on the goggle box? Has the big show started?" Her eyes come to rest on Stacey, and her brow furrows just a tad.

The TV is currently tuned to Animal Planet, and little puppies are romping around a playpen designed to look like a football field. Lefty continues flitting between the others as they come in. Mouse's last word gets a wider grin. "I'm definitely having some of that, then."

Waffles duly delivered, Norman seems to be at a complete loss as to what to do next, as though parties are things entirely outside the entirety of his prior experience. He sends a vaguely pleading look in Mouse's direction.

Stacey gives a reassuring smile to Salem, too, before noticing Norman's curious look, and Viv's. Stepping closer to them, she offers a friendly smile. "I don't believe we've met," she offers to Norman. "I am Stacey Kynds, Peacemaker, Walks-with-the-Spirits, Adren Ahroun of the Children of Gaia, new Elder of the tribe here."

Mouse, unfortunately, is completely unhelpful. If she notices that look (she probably does), she doesn't show any sign of it. Instead, she retreats--and it's clearly something of a retreat--over toward Wrong-Way and Salem. If she puts her tribemate and the other Theurge between herself and the two Get, that's surely a coincidence.

Salem fishes out a crumpled pack of cheap cigarettes. He casts a wry look over at Mouse as she joins him and the Gnawer lupus, then offers her a cig.

"New elder?" Viv says to Stacey. "You were the elder when I first came to this sept! Haven't seen you around in a dingo's age, though..."

Into the ex-library and current party-palace comes a new arrival; Iakovos. He knocks or lets himself in as appropriate, looking around for familiar faces to tell him he's in the right place. Mouse gets a smile, as does Viv, and he closes the door behind him once inside/let in.

Mouse mouths 'life saver' at Salem, and gladly accepts the offer. She fishes out her own lighter, and, after flicking it at the end of her cigarette, she offers it over to the Philodox.

The door opens and a trio of people wander in. For the Garou present, most should recognize the philodox in the lead. Camille has a big crockpot liner that smells like chili and behind her, a woman who looks someone like her and a younger man are also carrying a few bags of chips, nachos and so on. "Right! Time for the party!" the philodox crows cheerfully, clearly delighted. "This is like m'favorite rite ever! Everyone, this is Shanise and Jerome, my sister an' my nephew!" The little group heads for the spreads table. They even brought some beer.

Stacey nods to Viv. "That is true. I have been on a quest for the spirits for the last couple years, which took me south, to Western Eye and Steel Angel, and finally back again, helping to heal the lingering wounds that had been caused by the Spirals we'd defeated. I saw a lot in my travels, but I am /glad/ to be home again."

Lefty's lingering around the food--there's a big surprise. As more people come in, she seems to grow even more hyper. Licking barbecue sauce off her fingers, she wanders over to greet them. Hey! Come on in." She grins at Camille.

The Godi straightens to military attention at Stacey's introduction. "Norman Turns-the-Wheel-and-Makes-the-Oath," he says. "Godi of Great Fenrir's blood. Keeper at the gates of Great Yggdrasil's root. Son of Weasel..." he turns his head as more arrive, then looks back at Stacey, lapsing into the silence of not knowing what to do next.

Shaggy hair, beat up coat and a tray of brownies is what next walks in. Jacob's arrived and he looks to have already sampled some of his baking. "Here come the sweets all. Happy excuse for a party day. Lefty where you want these?"

Salem lights his cigarette with Mouse's lighter, giving the Theurge a wry half-smile. He glances over toward the door each time people enter, and while he doesn't seem ill-at-ease at all, he doesn't seem especially chill and relaxed, either.

Lefty's eyes widen again. "Oh god, I love you," she tells Jacob, kissing the Galliard on the cheek. The tray of brownies is confiscates and given a place of honor among the other foods.

Rori comes striding in, having been given directions from the tenement. There's a taller man with her, all red hair and green eyes, looking around curiously. She puts down a large tin container filled with sausages and some type of sauce and the man sets down a case of good Irish lager. She steps to the side with her brother and surveys the room, obviously just as uneasy around crowds. The man with her hands her a cigar and she takes a minute to do the rite as she lights up.

"Heyhey," Camille says with a wide grin, setting the insert down in the midst of the table and winking at Lefty. "So," she states in a firm voice, "Shanise makes th' best chili. Cause she's from Detroit an' we make damn good chili there." The kin woman laughs and bats at the philodox, bringing out paper goods, utensils, chips, the makings of nachos and so on. "Everyone dig in cuz there's /lots/."

Stacey lifts her brows at Norman's response. "Ah, yes, the Gatekeeper! Silvertip-rhya met my companion, Llyr, and welcomed him, but he did say that he could not fully speak for you. If you would like to meet him sometime and approve his residence here, I will be happy to introduce you." Noticing Jacob's entrance, she grins and gives him a wave. "Hey, Jacob!"

"Well... welcome home," Viv says to Stacey, moving aside to allow the further newcomers into the room. Some of them, such as Iakovos, get a curt smile; others whom she doesn't recognise, such as Rori, just get suspicious looks. Then she shrugs, and peers at the puppies on the television, not suppressing a smile at how intently Wrong Way is watching them.

Mouse peers toward the door as Jacob arrives, and murmurs something that sounds like a mild, amused warning to the Garou near her. "Gaian brownies." Something about this seems to relax her a tiny fraction more. She tucks her lighter away once Salem's finished with it. Iakovos gets a brief, distracted nod.

Salem casts a glance ceilingward and murmurs back to Mouse, "Of /course/ they are." Then he takes off his hat, rolls it up, and stuffs it in a pocket.

Lefty grins again at Camille. The chili is attacked with a plastic spork, and the Gnawer groans a little. "I think I'm in heaven." the kin who made it gets a loving look.

Drifting towards the spread of food, Iakovos adds a plate of baklava diamonds, then picks himself up a glass of whatever soda is around. He seems uncomfortable, but that's possibly because he's not so familiar with most of the people in here yet.

Shanise gives Lefty a broad grin before picking up some food and a beer and settling in beside her son to watch the puppy bowl. They certainly both seem amused. Camille nods to her before leaning in toward Lefty. "This is a good spot. Glad we're doin' something. Last year I didn't get to and it didn't feel right."

Jacob moves on to greet Stacey, leaning down to pass that cheek kiss he got from Lefty forward by giving the newly returned Ahroun one too. "Hey Stacey. Glad you made it out here. You hit the food up yet, got any must have reviews?"

"That's probably more for the Groundskeeper," Norman suggests, a little diffidently, "but I'm always happy talking to spirits." His eyes track around the place for a moment, and it doesn't seem to be the Garou or the kin he's following. He /blinks/ at Jacob's greeting to Stacey, and keeps his mouth closed.

Lefty practically beams at Camille as she looks over the library. She mumbles something about being fairly proud of the place, but with a mouth full of chili it just comes out as nonsense.

Mouse puffs slowly at her cigarette, her eyes hooding. This as well seems to have a positive effect on her mood. She's, visibly at least, distinctly less tense. "We've got a guest at the Tenement," she murmurs. "Someone I know from the Green. Stargazer Metis Ahroun. His name's Keir. Seems he had some Chimera-in-distress visions, so he's here to help out."

Stacey grins at Jacob, then adds to Norman, "My big brother here." Turning back to Jacob, she shakes her head. "No, I just got here, too, but it all looks pretty good." She gives Jacob's arm a squeeze before starting to slip over towards the two Walkers and Wrong Way.

Salem raises an eyebrow at Mouse. He glances at Wrong Way, then back at the Walker Elder. "He doesn't have a forked tongue, does he?"

Rori isn't so good at making friends in new places, but nods at people who are staring at her. If they want to know who she is, she'll tell them, but she's not launching into the fray during her moon with so many people around.

Viv raises one eyebrow just a fraction at Mouse, and detaches herself from the wall by the door in order to snag a piece of Iakovos's baklava and one of the Gaian brownies. Then Salem makes that remark, and she glances up at him sharply. "Forked tongue?"

Wrong Way huffs out a breath as one of the puppies rolls and fumbles for his feet, but she doesn't seem to be aware of the conversations going on around her.

Turning around with a bowl of chili with cheese and sour cream atop it (all available on the table), Camille listens for the time being. She looks around the room then relaxes when she spots the hat by the tv, nodding to herself.

Mouse blinks, a little startled. "Well, no. /He/ doesn't." Emphasis there. "No eyes. He's blind."

Norman continues to look clueless about mingling and other party protocol. After standing there like a lemon for a bit, he tries to make his way over towards Mouse.

Salem squints at Mouse a little suspiciously for a moment. "You're kidding."

Lefty licks chili off her fingers and then makes her way to the TV. Unfortunately for Wrong Way, she stands right in front of the adorable puppies. "Ok, folks! Can I get your attention for a moment?"

Mouse shakes her head. "Not in the slightest. Gnawer originally, if I remember right. But they...well." She lifts one shoulder. "They were going to cull him. Stargazer took him in instead. He said," and it's clear from her tone that the words resonate with her, "No one's worthless." Pause. "Or something like that. Anyway, the new Uktena metis has a--" She pauses, as both Viv /and/ Norman approach. The cigarette gets puffed at rather more vigorously, before she glances toward Lefty.

Salem's lips thin; he gives Wrong Way another glance, but then looks attentively at Lefty.

Jacob smiles at Norman, "I've missed the girl scout so I've gotta make sure to reward her for being around." He nods at Stacey as she makes off for the food and then turns toward Lefty as she goes to make her announcement.

"G'day Mouse," Viv bids the Glass Walker alpha cheerfully, with a distinct subtext of "Don't stop talking, this sounded interesting". Further comment, however, is blocked by Lefty's announcement, and Viv turns to squint at the lopsided Bone Gnawer.

Turning from his perusal of the food towards Lefty, Iakovos looks attentive to whatever it us she's about to say.

Wrong Way leans to one side, to try to see around the ragabash, but when that doesn't work, she finally manages to give Lefty her attention.

Setting her own chili down, Camille bounces on the balls of her feet just behind Lefty, looking expectant. For that matter, so do her sister and nephew, the kinfolk pair turning to watch the ragabash expectantly.

Lefty grabs the old wooly hat that was placed by the TV. She holds it up over her head so people can see it. "This is the hat," she announces, as if that explained everything. After a moment, and a few blank looks, she decides to go on. "For those that have never done this before, we put tings in it. Offerings. Whatever you feel like giving. And then we give our predictions on the game, including a score. And if someone's already taken a number, pick a different one. No fighting over it. And whoever wins at the end of the night, gets the stuff in the hat. And also gets to decide what we go do later tonight. Which can be killing something that needs killing. Taking the extra food to the shelters. Whatever you want. Kay?"

Mouse gives Viv a very careful nod, and then gifts Lefty a thumbs up.

Norman shunts his hands into his pockets and scrunches in on himself, standing awkwardly to listen to the Gnawer. His expression is blankly uncomprehending in a couple of places.

"Sure." This kind of thing, Iakovos can understand. So, he's among the first to approach, to put something in the hat. Something from his wallet; notes for certain, though the number and value is hidden by his hand as they're rolled up. "I'll take Patriots to win, twenty nine-thirteen.

At about just this time as Lefty is explaining thing, Owen makes his way into the room carrying two cases of beer, one in left hand and the other under his left arm, as well as a dirty duffle bag weighed down by who knows what in his right. A canvas bad hangs from his mouth, carrying in it a couple boxes of glazed doughnuts. He cna barely muffle out a hello, but manages it nonetheless.

Lefty holds the hat for Iakovos, grinning brightly as he puts money in. "Bless you," the Gnawer says, writing down the pick and the score.

"It's a /rite/," Camille explains behind her as she starts to notice blank stares on the various faces around. "Just like any of th' other seasonal ones." And there's a certain air of formality, strangely, to the way she pulls out an unopened pack of Camel cigarettes from her pocket, settling it into the hat herself. "Patriots 28, Giants 26." Her sister picks the Giants, 30 to 25, as she puts in a small flask of whiskey and her nephew picks the Patroits, 42 to 35, and puts in a unopened pack of playing cards.

Norman sneaks a glance at Viv, regards Camille unblinkingly for a moment, then looks over at Mouse again.

Salem stands up in order to better fish through his pockets. He comes up, eventually, with a pocket-knife. He juggles it in his hand a bit, thinking, then drops it in the hat. "Giants, twenty-seven to twenty-four," he says, with the air of someone pretty much pulling that out of thin air.

Mouse digs into her pocket and comes up with several twenties, which she drops into the hat, with a murmur for her bet. She glances toward the door as Owen enters, and looks, for a moment, a little flabbergasted. Then she retreats back to her Tribemate, with due haste.

Lefty continues to hold the hat as people move about and put things in. She nods at each score and takes a moment to mark it down. Each offering gets the saem grateful answer from the Gnawer, "Bless you."

Viv exchanges glances with Norman, looking rather blank. She digs in the inside pocket of her jacket and comes up with some crumpled low denomination bills, a handful of quarters and dimes, and a nearly-full packet of Lucky Strikes, all of which go into the hat. "Patriots 28, Giants 17," she hazards, not without a dubious look at Lefty. The Aussie-born Jarl is evidently not a gridiron fan.

Jacob has a brownie half in his mouth as he walks up to the hat. He seems hesitant for just a moment and then pulls a small gold ring from his coat pocket and drops it into the hat. "Giants 24, Patriots 17." This around a mouthful of doughy goodness.

Camille's eyes track the hat and she seems rather expectant, for some strange reason. With each offering, she exhales slowly murmuring 'Bless you' just like Lefty does. As do her kinfolk family. There is /definitely/ a feeling that that Gnawer trio is taking this seriously.

Stacey digs into her pocket and comes up with some change and a friendship bracelet. She makes up her guess, too, no doubt having no idea what means what, and then moves to sit on the ground near Wrong Way and the Walkers.

Lefty stops when the Gaian galliard drops in his gift. she eyes it, eyes him, and says nothing for a long moment. Then she offers the "Bless you," and moves on. But there is a surreptitious look afterward, though.

With his prediction done, Kovo looks around for where he should sit. Lacking any Furies here to cluster with, he decides to aim for the next Tribe he's even remotely tied to - and as such, meanders over towards Mouse. Not quickly, no, but looking for somewhere to loiter in the Walkersphere.

Owen works for a moment to set his packages down, neglecting the one in his mouth as he fumbles through his slowly dilapidating jacket. Here he pulls out a jumbo pack of peanut M&Ms which he takes over to Lefty to set in the Bag. "Pathrioths fifthy-thoo, Gianths fourtheen."

Norman shrugs deeper into his pockets, then tries to sidle up to the hat when nobody else is busy with it. The pants-fishing expedition produces a handful of downy feathers, a handful of runestones- of which he carefully selects two- a scrap of shiny silver foil and a broken fountain-pen. "Giants ten," he says carefully as he adds the collection to the hat. "P...patriots, um. Thirteen." He sidles away again, and goes in search of beer.

Viv's eyes leave the hat once she's made her contribution, and rest on Norman. His brief moment of stammering does not pass unnoticed by the Jarl, and indeed almost distracts her attention enough to miss Owen's entry. But not quite. "Coo-ee, Owen," she calls out as she spots him. "Over here, mate."

Lefty grins at Owen. "Bless you," she says, writing down the bet. Norman's is taken next, and the Gnawer seems even more thrilled with his gift. "Bless You."

Camille moves to peer into the hat, studying the contents with a critical eye. "This bodes well," she murmurs to Lefty as she does.

Salem, settled down near Mouse, forms a partial barrier between his tribemate and the Get. He gives her a curious look or two, but doesn't ask; he just smokes his foul-smelling cigarette.

Rori walks over to the hat, drops in one of her calming cigars, several bird feathers, some really lovely stones of unusual colors and a handful of bills from her brother. "Patriots win by 17." Can't just do it like everyone else, that would be.. well, normal.

Mouse drags on hers as well; Salem's proximity seems to have a relaxing effect on her again. She notices the look, but it takes her a minute or so to actually provide an answer to the unasked question. She murmurs quietly to the philodox.

Wrong Way hobbles over to her nest and roots around until she comes up with something. Whatever it is, it's small enough to be hidden within her jaws as she brings it to Lefty to deposit in the hat. Blue.

Clearly, the safest place in the room for Iakovos is next to Salem. Right? Right. At least, near the Walkers he's got -some- grasp of who is who. So, he comes to perch somewhere - on a chair, against a pillar or whatever - near him and Mouse, offering a slightly nervous but polite smile to both.

Jacob gives Lefty a strong wink as he makes his way back to the food. He gathers a bowl, fills it with chili and then grabs a beer. He eyes the gathered and then, after a thought, makes his way toward Mouse and Salem as well. "Can I squeeze a spot over here too?"

Salem grunts in reply to Mouse and gives her a nod.

Armed with beer, Norman makes a tentative foray towards the Walker Elder, before being struck by inspiration. He tucks the beer into the crook of his arm, scrabbles out the scrap of paper with the directions to the library on it, and a stub of pencil. He scribbles a short message and reaches over to hold it out for Mouse.

Lefty eyes what the lupus gnawer dropped in the hat, and afterward the prediction makes her laugh. "Blue. Got it. Um. Ok." Straightening, she looks around. "Is that everyone then?" Not seeing anyone else stepping up, she places the rather bulging hat on a book shelf above the TV to await the outcome of the game. When it's settled, she finally turns off the puppy bowl and puts the pregame on.

Mouse waves idly at Jacob, smiles back at Iakovos, and then looks promptly startled when Norman hands her a note. She takes it though, saying, as she glances down at it, "Anyway, the Uktena have a new metis in town with a forked tongue."

Camille picks up her chili again, strolling over to a place that seems to be a midpoint between the Get contingent and the Walker one. "Lotta new faces in town," she points out idly. It doesn't appear to have any judgment, that statement, just a certain thoughtfulness.

"That's... quite interesting to hear," Salem says to Mouse. He toys with his cigarette, idly nods to those wandering over.

It's Mouse's turn to give her tribemate a curious look. "Yeah?" She looks back down at the note, appears to read it a few times, and then looks up at Norman, eyebrows lifting.

Owen eventually manages to place the doughnuts with the rest of the 'feast', balling up the canvas sack in his habd as he retreats back to the rest of what he brought. Viv gets a comraderie-punch to the shoulder on his way by, while Mouse receives, should she be looking, only a sly wink. "Beer's open for grabs," he announces as he retrieves the dirty dufflebag, which he then proceeds to bring over to the rest of the Get.

Wrong Way hobbles back toward the Walkers and those others who have joined, settling in close enough she might almost be leaning against Salem, if she takes a deep enough breath.

Salem doesn't glance over at Wrong Way this time. He just says, "Yes," back to Mouse in an I'll-tell-you-later kind of way.

Viv has just about enough decorum not to try and blatantly eavesdrop on Mouse and Salem. Not even when Norman starts passing notes under his Jarl's very nose, although that makes her eyes gleam, and not in a wholly pleasant way. Then she shrugs and takes a big bite out of her brownie. "That's a fact," she says in response to Camille's open-ended remark. "But have you noticed how many of them are old faces showing back up again?" She makes a sweeping gesture with her hand (which still holds the other half of the brownie) that goes from Stacey to Jacob and ends at Iakovos, before she punches Owen back on his own shoulder. "What ya got in the swag, big man?"

Rori leans against the wall. She's surrounded and knows no one that she knows she knows and so she just finds a spot with her brother to watch the game. Sure it's a stinky cigar, but sometimes, it's very necessary.

"Talk? Sometime?" Norman asks Mouse quietly, although anyone near him can doubtless hear- it's not as if he can whisper, with the overall level of background noise. "Crescent-moon to crescent-moon?" he adds, then glances to his Jarl, and raises his eyebrows enquiringly. His composure seems to be rebuilding itself slowly.

Jacob settles in and sits cross legged on the floor near where Mouse and Salem have set their post. He's all attention on the food for now though, mostly oblivious to anything beyond... or that could be another side effect of ... whatever it is that left his eyes so bloodshot and spacey.

Mouse inclines her head to Norman. "Yeah. Soon?" Salem gets a nod, Wrong Way a vaguely friendly look, and Owen a brief, boggled glance.

Sipping cola and biting into his piece of baklava, Iakovos loiters. Viv gets a curious look at her open wave, and he offers to this, "Time and opportunity, Miss Smitt. I'd have come back sooner if I could, or avoided going away entirely."

Lefty, once the particulars of the rite are finished, seems at a loss for what to do next. she just sort of wanders about, looking at everyone else for a bit and making sure people are happy. she winds up back at the food table, where she grabs some nachos. She makes her way over to Jacob, where most everyone else seems to be collecting as well, and settles on the floor to munch.

Salem reaches over to ruffle Wrong Way's neck.

Norman bobs his head in a firm nod, and unless someone drags him into their group he goes to find a quiet corner in which to get quietly and unsociably drunk.

"Think it could be a sign," Camille says thoughtfully, leaning back and enjoying her beer. "Dependin' on yer thoughts about omens an' stuff."

Wrong Way stretches her neck against the touch, and lets out a soft grunt of pleasure.

Mouse watches Norman depart, then seems to realize just how many people have congregated nearby. Her eyebrows lift very faintly, and something tugs at one corner of her mouth. A moment later, her phone buzzes. She digs it out and glances at the screen.

The mention of crescent moons by Norman changes the gleam in Viv's eyes from an annoyed one to a positive one. She makes a little silent "oh" face at her tribemate and Mouse, and then sotto-voce adds the single word "Jane?" before Iakovos's polite words draw her attention. "Christ, call me Viv. Miss Smitt is my maiden aunt from Wooloomooloo, and if she shows up here you're all in trouble, because her fried chicken's so rock solid you could use it to club a wallaby to death."

Salem obligingly digs his fingers into the lupus' fur, scratching with his maimed hand while the other handles the cigarette. He glances sidelong at Mouse's cellphone.

Owen digs into his coat once more, rumaging around a bit into he produces a couple of ceramic mugs which have somehow survived the journey. He stuffs one in Viv's hand as he squats down to unzip the bag, which smells a bit earthy to the sensitive. He reveals a wooden cask, a simple tap, and a mallet. "Friend of mine sent me cross-country without empty hands. He used his own bees..."

Jacob cranks through the chili rather quickly, and chases it down with the beer. He straightens a leg to foot-poke Lefty's butt and casts a grin at her. "Nice shindig."

"Val," Mouse explains, in a low voice. Her thumb moves over the screen--clearly a text message, rather than a phone call. Her response is apparently brief, because she stuffs the phone away shortly after. "Never rains but it pours. Kaz's Adren challenge has attracted attention."

Camille turns her head toward Mouse, frowning a bit. She seems to be expecting more from the woman.

Salem's brow furrows. "The Harbor Park fetish?"

"Viv, then. Sorry." Iakovos looks away from the Get for a moment, sipping soda, then back towards her and the cluster of conversing Gets and Walkers. Curious, without overtly being nosy.

Lefty turns when Jacob pokes, grinning at the compliment. "thanks," she says quietly, giving the crowd another proud perusal. Mouse's words cause a brief, concerned look, but there's too much going on for Lefty's attention not to wander.

Mouse gives Salem a very faint nod. "I can explain after the game." This, it seems, also appears to be directed toward Camille. "Trying to see if Val has contact information anyway."

Salem grimaces. "I /thought/ one of those smarmy bastards would come sniffing up this way eventually," he grizzled halfmoon grumbles. "It figures that it would have to be /now/."

Viv crams the rest of her brownie into her maw in order to take Owen's gift in her hand. "Sweet as!" she grins. "Assuming that thing contains mead and not, you know, actual bees -- Whoa! What's this about Kaz, Mouse?"

Wrong Way rolls up to a sit so that she can look more directly at Salem.

"Naturally," Mouse says, dry. "He's a tiger though. I /know/ she wasn't dealing with tigers. Oh and he can turn invisible and move while doing it. Extra glad I taught you that gift now." Her gaze flicks up to Viv. "Some repercussions of her Adren challenge coming to inevitably bite us. Her Adren challenge to a Shadow Lord, of course."

Camille nods slowly to Mouse, looking at her as she drinks her beer. Then, satisfied, she sets the bottle down. "Wait, what the hell do you mean tiger?" she asks suddenly, sitting up.

Salem scowls. "A fucking tiger? Last I heard, tigers aren't from fucking South America."

Lefty's attention is caught once again by the comments about tigers. Her gaze shifts back to Mouse, curious, but the Gnawer doesn't interrupt with more questions. She just listens.

"Huh. No. Patriots and Giants. Tigers is baseball. Wrong season." Jacob offers this helpfully, around the sound of a second beer cracking open and, oh yes, a second brownie in hand now too.

Wrong Way's ears twist out to the sides as she watchs Salem, though her gaze seems to fall short of his actual form.

Mouse grunts. "As in Tony the, yes. And /yeah/, not exactly native to South America. Either way, going to see if I can't talk to him. And see if--" She pauses, as inspiration strikes, and looks toward Wrong Way. "Do you think you could ask some of the Harbor Park spirits to specifically guard that fetish, in case Tony gets ideas? Preferably ones that can see through invisibility."

Wrong Way may or may not hear the Glass Walker, because she doesn't ever look to Mouse. But after a few more seconds of staring somewhere just short of Salem, she simply turns and hop-hobbles her way outside.

Salem grunts something surly but nonspecific, sucks down a good lungful of cigarette smoke, then crushes it out on the bottom of one of his boots. His good eye follows Wrong Way out.

From his solitary corner Norman follows the conversation, his eyes turning towards Wrong Way over the top of his can of beer, eyebrows raising a little as she exits.

Mouse looks from Wrong Way to Salem, and shrugs. "Didn't mean to spoil the mood. No more bad news from /me/ until after the game." There's a faint twitch to her mouth corners, attempting to pull upward.

"-Oh-," Camille says, connecting all the dots. She scowls furiously, her fingers taptaptapping on the ground. "Well, shit. Regular patrols too?" she suggests.

Lefty nods to Camille, her own ever present smile faltering a little. "Couldn't hurt, yeah."

"That's all we need right now," Norman mutters, then lifts his voice a little. "I'll have a word with a... friend of mine. See if he can get an exclusive interview with a tiger. He might like the challenge."

"So now we know you have more bad news, but we have to wait for it," Viv points out to Mouse. "Way to go, girl." She gives a harsh, almost barking laugh, and stoops down to investigate Owen's cask.

Jacob snorts, pulling his hand up to cover his mouth and keep any food from exiting. "Interview with a tiger... sounds like an Anne Rice thing."

"I always have more bad news," Mouse continues, her tone still dry, and a little flat. "I'd say that my middle name is Stormcrow, but that carries unwanted tribal connotations. --Yes, more patrols would be good."

Lefty can't help but snicker a little at the Gaian. She also eyes the brownie in his hand. And that's pretty much all it takes for her to get up and go fetch some for herself.

Salem's jaw is tight, his mood gone distinctly sour. He nods to Mouse and makes an attempt to focus somewhat on the game.

"Look th' game is about to start," Camille point out at the tv. "Part of the rite is makin' fun of th' game, okay?"

Mouse stubs out her cigarette, and this time, it's the Theurge who digs out a somewhat battered pack, and offers it toward her tribemate.

Finishing his baklava, Iakovos seems about to get another drink when his cellphone beeps. Frowning, he pulls it out then shakes his head, muttering a soft 'Excuse me' to those here, before heading for the door.

"But I didn't bring the throwing axes!" Norman protests with apparent complete seriousness.

Jacob turns an eye on Norman at his protest, eyes wide and uncertain. He looks to Lefty then and with a very serious tone suggests, "She just /got/ that tv set up. No. Axes."

Lefty stares at Norman. "Don't even think about breaking my TV!" she exclaims, and although it's said loudly and with enthusiam, she seems to know it's all in fun.

Lefty then immediately says "Jinx" and offers the Gaian a high five.

"Well..." Norman turns to look at Jacob then Lefty, all wide-eyed surprise that anone could object. "/Plaits/ are the traditional target, I suppose." And the only plaits in sight right now are the two tiny ones his patchy beard has been persuaded into.

Arriving at the library somewhat late for the pregame ritual is Whisper. She has a couple of bags of popcorn under one arm, looking around somewhat uncertainly before heading for the spread of food, adding the popcorn to it.

"Dunno, Lefty, could be a fun way ta spice it up," Camille muses with a sly grin.

Lefty flashes a grin, gaze drifting from Norman to Camille. As the newcomer arrives, the Gnawer is up to go greet. "Hello!" she says to Whisper, eager to take the popcorn. "Welcome."

"No axes," Viv says with a sly grin to Norman. "We're guests in the house of Gnawer, no busting it up more than it is already." She reaches over and snags another of those curiously tasty brownies.

A short hammering noise, followed by a pop, and after a few moments Owen comes up with a full mug. "Skoll!" he cheers to Viv, apparently doing his best not to get involved in any conversation that may be going on at the moment.

"Hi, thanks," Whisper greets Lefty cheerfully, though it may be noted she's got her scarf up covering her mouth, so the smile that might accompany that is mostly hidden. "Sorry I'm late, public transport," she adds, extending her hand to the Gnawer for shaking. "I'm Whisper."

Mouse glances at Salem, and then jerks her head toward Whisper.

Lefty wipes neon orange chip-dust from the fingers of her one good hand and clasps the one offered by whisper. She grins amiably. "I'm Lefty. for obvious reasons. Welcome to the party."

Jacob slouches back again, now that talk of axes is put aside. A yawn escapes him, and a random chuckle. He does though, eye Viv as she goes for a second brownie.

Salem, his mood still rather dour, glances at Mouse, then squints over toward Whisper.

Mouse pulls out a cigarette for herself, with the pack still offered, sticks it between her teeth, and then digs for her lighter again.

"HEY!" Camille is suddenly cheering. "Did ya see that car in that commercial? It just made a buncha vampires explode! That's all right!"

"I don't really know the protocal for this sort of thing - do we do proper introduction or..?" Whisper wonders of Lefty, one hand snaking out to nab a brownie from the tray of snacks.

Whatever Norman might have replied is forgotten as he stares at Camille in confusion.

Viv is squatting down alongside Owen, receiving her mugful of ... bee juice? "Here's to crime," she toasts her burly tribemate in return. She doesn't seem to have noticed the arrival of the late-comer, Whisper, yet.

Lefty waves her hand casually at Whisper, "We're not overly formal. So, whatever makes you comfortable." After following her gaze to the brownies, the Gnawer warns, "Careful. They're "Gaian." she winks.

What makes Whisper comfortable, it seems, is getting rid of her 'gaian' brownie. With a brief look at the piece she's holding, she then passes it to Lefty with a faint 'heh'. "Better not. Thanks for the head's up," she murmurs, before taking something hopefully less 'gaian', one of the cold cooked chicken legs.

Lefty is quick to take the brownie, grin, and bite into it.

Camille is leaning toward her family members and talking quietly, the kinfolk pair seeming to be rather relaxed as they watch the game. Camille is glancng at the others but mostly paying attention to the game.

"Bah!" Owen blusters as the Giants score once again, his bet on the score already blown.

Salem pushes to his feet with a grunt and limps over toward the refreshments. He helps himself to a can of beer and introduces himself to Whisper. "Jack Salem. Welcome to St. Claire."

Mouse settles back, eyes hooding as she watches the game--or 'watches', really, she looks a million miles away--and puffs at her cigarette.

Jacob looks on as Salem makes an intro, then gets up himself and holds out a hand. "Jacob Seth. Gaian." He grins a little, "Welcome to the abode."

Lefty invites Whisper to come over and sit by her near the TV. She also cracks up at the Chevy commercial. "Ford. Found On Road Dead." This dissolves her into giggles for some reason.

Norman tucks himself back up into a small bundle on the floor with beer and spare.

Viv pulls a face too, as the team which is evidently not a Getly favourite clocks up another score. She turns round and sees Salem greeting Whisper, which prompts her to head over as well; although she seems a little unsteady on her feet for some reason. "Hey, hey, hi there," she says in her Aussie twang. "You new in this burg, miss?"

"Linda Smith, or Whisper to most people. Uktena," Whisper offers to Salem in return, sounding pleased. "Thank you. It's interesting here so far." She has a faint Texan twang to her English, and a decided lack of sibilant emphasis. She repeats her introduction to Jacob as well, shaking his hand as it is offered, then again for Viv. "Thanks. I didn't realise there were so many here," she voices to the three of them.

Whisper adds after a moment, "Yes, been here about two weeks," to Viv's query.

"Camille Booker, Gnawer and Philodox an' my sister Shanise and her kid Jerome." Camille does her introductions, giving the woman a little wave before looking back toward the game. "Why so many car commericals?"

Salem cracks open his beer, takes a sip, eyeballs it, then shrugs mildly to himself. "Met the Alpha yet?"

Viv clasps Whisper's hand pretty firmly with her own, which is, it must be said, not as clean as it might be. Still, the little Aussie woman seems friendly enough, especially given the tribe she goes on to claim as her own. "G'day, pleased to meetcha. I'm Viv Smitt, known as Madder-than-a-Bag-of-Cut-Snakes. Adren full moon, and Jarl of the Fenrir for this 'ere sept."

"Aw c'mon Viv. It's the Superbowl! Drop the formalities and just let everyone mingle huh? It's one of the few times we can act like we're halfway normal humans. Just, ya know, way cuter than the rest of them if you're me." Jacob grins at this and then catches sight of Lefty, "Or Lefty."

"Yes, I have met with the honoured Little Silvertip Mauls The Horned Serpant, and my chiminage is underway," Whisper affirms to Salem, nodding to Camille and her kin, then since everyone's being all friendly she offers her full introduction to those who care for it, mostly in response to Viv since it's asked for. "Whisper of the Uktena, called 'Tiny Needle Spears the Heart' or 'River Songs Entwined', born of Garou under the howling moon, and ranked twice. It is a pleasure, rhya." Yes, there's that formality there towards Viv now - even in a purely social situation like this.

Lefty smirks at the Gaian. "Flatterer," she says. The Uktena's introduction is noted, and it makes the ragabash look her over a little more carefully. "Welcome to St. Claire, Whisper," she finally adds.

"Scar, Philodox, Glass Walker," Salem offers up. "Adren rank."

Owen raises his mug only briefly to the new Uktena. "Owen Hollsinger. Adrean ahroun." He then returns his attention to the TV. Odd, Owen being brief.

"Formalities?!" Viv extends her middle finger to Jacob, but disarms it (hopefully) by accompanying it with a grin. "Look here, buster, if I wanted to be formal, I'd still be telling Whisper the names of my great grandfather and the valiant deeds he did. Ask Owen if you don't believe me. Just because you bloody Gaians don't have any ancestry to boast about, doesn't mean you can chop mine off at the knees. Here, grab a glass or something and try some of this mead, it's ripping. Nearly as good as your brownies."

Mouse closes her eyes, though she remains sitting upright, and she's far too tense to actually be dropping off for a nap.

"Could do a little bit of something," Camille suggests to Lefty in an idle sort of voice. "For a goody."

Lefty cracks up at the Volkswagen commercial, only catching half of what Camille says. "hmm?"

Jacob gives Viv and her digit a sneer. "Fine fine. You ramble off your lineage back to Buccaneer Charlie and I'll just settle with a simple exclamation of being a Meat Popsicle. We'll see who gets farther on that!" He snickers a bit and pulls himself up to try some of their mead. "I'll have you know, I've a helluva gut for drinking."

Lefty's cautious look and such has Whisper seeming a tad uncomfortable, but given her breed it's tradition to show the mark of Gaia's displeasure when meeting new Garou. With a slight wrinkle of her nose she pulls down the scarf and sticks her tongue out at the nosy Gnawer - yes, it's slender, grey and forked, rather than pink and fleshy. Then, with an apologetic smile to Salem and Viv, she moves to sit down, taking a bite out of the chicken leg she'd picked up.

"Right, so," Camille says as she pushes to her feet, "when ya do this properly, ya have little contests and bets and things like that while ya watch. And then we're all gonna mock the shit out of Madonna at the halftime show. An' if you do a really good job, ya get renown and everything. But fer now, let's do a little somethin'. Since a bunch of ya ain't football fans. So. Yer choice. Wits or brawn?"

"Ooooh! Challenge!" Viv yips back at Jacob, still all good-nature in her posturing. But then Camille distracts her. "Let's have a laugh. Since I could kick most of your scrawny asses with brawn... I'll go for wits."

Salem's gaze follows Whisper -- at least until Camille speaks up. Viv's assertation draws a snort from the war-scarred Philodox.

Mouse sits up a bit, eyes opening part way. She drapes her arms over and around her knees.

Owen swears outloud as the Pats have to punt yet again. "Come on, Brady, you Justin Beiber wannabe! Throw the goddamn football!" He's smiling all the way, until he hears something about challenges. "Wait, wut? Who?"

"Right. The best insult ya can come up with," Camille decides, moving over to pick up the Hat with an almost reverential air. "An' if th' crowd decides ya did a good enough job, ya get somethin' outta here."

Viv scowls briefly at the teevee, then looks back at Camille. "Is this a general purpose insult, or do I get to manufacture a bespoke one for a specific target?" Then she turns to Owen momentarily. "Jacob thinks he can hold his drink. Give the boy some mead and let's see."

"What ya guys think? Should she pick on someone in particular?" Camille seems rather amused.

Lefty pipes up between munching Doritos, "How about Tony, The?" she offers, snickering.

Whisper leans over towards Viv and Salem again, wondering softly, "What's in the hat?" She seems quite mystified about the hat's role in the proceedings.

"The pot," Salem explains to Whisper. "We all put something in, then made a guess as to the final score for the game." He gestures with his beer to the television.

"An' all that stuff an' all that energy was put in th' hat," Camille adds, tapping her nose and then pointing to Lefty as she does. "Done and done. Give us yer best, show how th--" And then she gives a yell as the Patriots score a rather impressive touchdown. "Damn straight!"

"Oh. Is it too late to put something in?" the Uktena wonders, half of Salem and half of Camille, since she's holding the Hat. "And why are we insulting a cereal cartoon, anyway?" Full of questions, this one.

"Yeah! Why?" Viv echoes Whisper's question.

"Because it's Grrrrreat fun," speaks up Stacey, from where she otherwise sits quiet.

Owen shoots up to a standing psition as well as the Pats score. "Yeah!" he quickly ducks down to refill his mug. "Aright. Insults, then? Let's go."

Something in Salem's pocket bleeps. He frowns, takes out a cheap digital watch, then excuses himself with a, "Be back in a few."

Mouse's eyes have closed again, her head bowed.

"You want me to insult some mangey striped tom cat who whores his sorry ass out to sell processed, synthetic, wyrmy breakfast cereal to fat American kids who think cereal probably grows on trees?" Viv rejoinders in her most raucous tones. Which are, it must be conceded, pretty damned raucous.

"I rather like that one," Camille comments absently as she meanders toward Whisper, holding out the now-bulging hat toward her. She offers an encouraging smile.

Mouse reaches up to rub at the bridge of her nose.

Rummaging in one pocket, Whisper comes up with a pair of pinbadges, a packet of gum and two polished shells. The other pocket is slightly less fruitful, only releasing a trio of pressed pennies from various Idaho attractions. The lot gets dropped into the hat.

Lefty grins at the insult, holding up Viv's hand to indicate she was the winner. With a look, she lets Camille hand off the victor's prize. As Whisper approaches the hat, the Gnawer ragabash offers a quiet, "Bless you," for the offering.

"Bless you," repeats Camille, smiling at the Uktena before heading toward Viv. "Take yer pick. One thing."

Viv screws her eyes very ostentatiously shut before plunging her hand into the tombola of Camille's hat, the Jarl evidently wanting to be seen to be fair and random. This process gives her the prize of... Norman's broken fountain pen. Even so, she beams at the item, and tucks it away back in her pocket. She seems quite happy just to have been adjudged the victor, as she sits down alongside Jacob and starts to match him mead for mead.

Mouse opens her eyes briefly, watching as Viv selects her prize. Then her eyes close again.

Lefty gets a drink while she's up, and Madonna's singing at the halftime show. Apparently, Lefty's idea of raucously making fun of her is to imitate her singing and dancing in the middle of the room, vigorously.

Owen claps Viv on the shoulder, before being enraptured byt Clint Eastwood doing a Chrysler commercial.

Sitting in front of the TV, Whisper seems to be watching the game with every sign of curiosity. Can it be she's missed all the other supebowls ever? Apparently so.

The game goes on, lots of scoring and shouting. More of the trinkets are given away, and everyone eats and drinks to excess and has a good time.

Lefty starts to clean up as people filter out after the end of the game. she eyes the food and then sidles over to Camille. "So, I was thinking. Rite of the Sevens? And then we take it to Regan Hope and all?"

"Let's do it," Camille says with a little smile. Her sister moves up behind her, smiling broadly, informing them that she brought her car and can drive it all over. "See? Shanise's amazing."

Lefty grins brightly, thanking Shanise with a nod. The ragabash then disappears behind the giant desk to get a bunch of small boxes. She picks out seven different types of the various food they have and puts each into one of the boxes.

Lefty settles in to perform the rest of the rite, which basically--for this ragabash, at least--consists of breaking of pieces of each type of food and mumbling what sounds like a soft prayer over each. If someone were to listen closely, however, they'd hear various forms of humorous "Grace" prayers. Lefty gets through about three of these when something interrupts her concentration.

Camille has been observing carefully with the air of someone who knows the rite but doesn't /know/ the rite. When the woman pauses, she studies her quietly, the question on her face but unspoken.

Lefty rubs at her chin and returns to concentrating. She has the chili, now, and puts a spoonful into the Tupperware container it belongs in. Under her breath, she whispers, "Over the lips, through the gums, watch out stomach, here it comes." It's done seven times into each container.

"Good food, good meat, good god let's eat," Camille whispers at one point, as a prompt. She grins widely at Lefty as she does.

Lefty continues, some of the whispered prayers including, "Rub a dub dub, thanks for the grub," and, "Good food, good meat, good Gaia, let's eat." She finally stands up, looking over the containers. The food in each, at first just a small fraction, suddenly grows to fill each.

Lefty, once the rite is finished, looks up rather suddenly. "Hey, Camille?" she asks, moving quickly out from behind the desk. "Uh, can you do me a favor? And take care of the food? I gotta go check on something. Right now."

"I have ta formally learn that one," she finally decides. "I think it is more useful than half my punishment shit I know." Shanise whispers, "Gaia bless us all," then starts to pack everything up as neatly as she can. "We got it. You do what you gotta."

Lefty gives the half moon a grateful look before sprinting for the door. Calling back over her shoulder, she adds, "You got a deal. We'll talk about it when I get back. Sorry 'bout this. And thanks Shanise!" the last is said even as she's already out the door.