From afar, Hazmat laughs.
Sepdet slips through with a wince, visibly wrenching herself through the glass on the Gnawer's heels.
Sepdet looks around a bit timidly. This is not the Umbra she knows, but it's still the spirit world. She sniffs the air carefully for any ominous concentrations of wyrm-scent.
Hazmat pages: Place should be pretty clean.
Sepdet relaxes. ~Good place. Well. The first thing we need is a patient spirit.~
Sepdet sits down on a strange oblong shape whose real life equivalent isn't too clear, and starts rummaging in her pockets, finally coming out with some Strider trail mix full of all sorts of nuts, grains, and bits of dried beef. ~A gift always helps.~
Hazmat sits down, watching the Theurge.
Sepdet closes her eyes, shivering slightly as she does so. She begins a fairly cheerful and totally unintelligible jingle--at least, that's what it sounds like-- in a child's sing song. This goes on for several minutes.
Hazmat cocks her head to one side.
An oddly repetitive creaking is heard, and then a buzzing like a rusted alarm clock's bell. Suddenly a gleaming red creature made entiredly of metal pipe lurches into view, six legged. It sits in a bent-over position, silvery horns ending in black sheaths with colorful tassels curving up and over its shoulders. Its front arms seem to end at the elbows, pointing straight at the ground; its forearms seem to be thin metal spokes but its hands are black rubber, and tumble over each other in a blur too fast to see. Its back feet splay out behind it on each side, and are much like the forearms, but smaller. Only several second's study finally resolve the familiar shape into that of a child's red tricycle.
Sepdet opens her eyes and blinks as the thing comes to a stop, quivering.
Hazmat lays her ears back, startled.
Sepdet tilts her head to one side and looks down at her offering ruefully. ~I think I brought the wrong kind of food. Now, listen. I'm going to say hello. Listen to the /feel/ of what I say. It's not the sounds as much as the tone, sort of like music.~
Hazmat cocks her ears forward.
Sepdet says something in a whispery, slightly tentative, but friendly voice. *Hello?*
Hazmat pays very close attention.
The tricycle-spirit answers back with the same clinking sound; the rusty bell is just visible as a vibrating round lump of gritty black that is nestled in the crook of its right horn. The reply is hollow, unmelodic, mournful. *Hello play?*
Hazmat cocks her head to one side.
Sepdet translates carefully, figuring out what it means as she struggles to put the words into Garou. ~That was: 'hello, do-we-want-to-play.' Ai, this is going to be a hard one.~
Hazmat lolls her tongue. What an interesting spirit, though.
Sepdet tilts her head gently towards it, tone curious. *Play,* she echoes. *This is Hazmat. I am Sepdet. We have a game to play.*
The thing quivers and trundles towards Hazmat a few inches, its front and back feet now thumping restlessly at the ground without quite resting on them. *Ride-play?* It backs up with a start. *Too big. Heavy.*
Hazmat wags her tail at the odd spirit and woofs lightly at it.
Sepdet makes a clucking soothing sound with her tongue. *Not ride you. Talk-play.*
Sepdet translates as the thing stops, creaking, its wheel-hands spinning backwards and forwards thoughtfully. *Talk-play. Sepdet talks. Threce talks.*
Sepdet looks at Hazmat. *Play* ~is the main word it's saying. And now talk. Are you getting those?~
Hazmat considers. Huuh. Kinda. A little. It's very hard, though.
Sepdet nods, and turns back to the spirit. *Talk-play. I am teaching Hazmat to talk. You, I, we, talk. She hears, she learns. Will you play?*
Long distance to Hazmat: Sepdet has /no/ idea where this spirit came from.My imagination is weird tonight. :)
Hazmat pages: It's COOL. :)
The tricycle whirrs uncertainly, then says tentatively. *Will play. Threce lonely. No ride-players anymore.*
Sepdet touches her chest. *Sepdet.* The word sounds like nothing so much as an exclamation point. She gestures at the Gnawer. *Hazmat.* The two are rather close, but Hazmat's has a slightly gritty, tougher texture to it. Then she points towards the weaver-spirit, asking, *Threce?*
The tricycle rings its bell sharply in assent. *Threce.*
Hazmat continues to watch and listen carefully.
Sepdet nods at Hazmat. ~See if you can say our names.~
Sepdet adds, ~It doesn't matter what form you're in. It's what you're /thinking/ that determines most of the meaning.~
Hazmat concentrates. Carefully, she repeats the names, though the 'feel' is somewhat off for each name. The Gnawer gruffles and tries it again, getting it a little bit closer to right.
The tricycle rattles its bell excitedly the second time Hazmat tries. *Hazmat talk. Hazmat play.*
Hazmat cocks her ears forward, tongue lolling out.
Threce asks querelously, *Hazmat not talked. Hazmat talk now, some. Hazmat lonely was?*
Sepdet's brows puzzle over that one. Finally she just translates it literally to the Bone Gnawer.
Hazmat cocks her head and attempts to tell the spirit that she is not very good at talking.
The spirit shivers, but apparently the gesture is not one of fear. It creaks towards Hazmat again, nearly bumping her nose. *Hazmat talk like rusty roller skate.* The tone is childishly teasing. *Rusty roller skate! Roller skate!*
You paged Michael Powers with '~All right. Miss you.~'.
Hazmat blinks and jerks back, more in surprise than out of fear. She barks at the spirit once, lightly.
The tricycle jerks back. *Hazmat talk LOUDER than roller skate.*
Sepdet looks confused. ~It is calling you a shoe with wheels. I am not sure I understand that.~
Hazmat looks confused as well.
Sepdet tries again. *We don't know roller skates. Hazmat is learning. Talk easy?*
Threce creaks and rocks back on its wheels, kicking up a back foot in the equivalent of a stomp. *Slow Hazmat. Slow Sepdet. But Threce will talk slow. Play-talk about what?*
Sepdet translates and looks at Hazmat. ~What should we ask it?~
Hazmat thinks for a bit. Ask it... ask it what it likes to eat?
Sepdet nods, her voice taking on a decidedly hungry tone as she passes that question on.
The tricycle consider this. *Riders eat lots. Threce not eat.*
Sepdet nods.
Suddenly the tricycle rings delightedly. *Threce eats air. Air. Moves, and air goes by.* Then it pauses, and sniffs. *But not anymore.*
Sepdet translates this very carefully.
Hazmat considers this. Then she looks at Sepdet. Maybe we could feed it air again?
Sepdet blinks, and asks. *Hazmat wants to know if we coould feed you air.*
Threce flips its tassles around absently. *Too heavy. Need small riders.*
Hazmat runs a tongue over her chops, looking thoughtful. (After Sepdet translates, of course.)
Sepdet suggests thoughtfully, *We could push you, not ride.*
Threce shivers excitedly. *Push? A new way to play.*
Sepdet looks down at Hazmat. *Push* she echoes. The word is rather amusing, it sounds like kids nudging each other when a teacher's trying to make them all sit still.
Hazmat cocks her head at Sepdet and then shifts.
Hazmat contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Hazmat finishes shifting into Glabro form.
Hazmat grunts. *Push?*
Sepdet grins and nods. She takes one of the handlebars gently. The rubber is actually slightly warm, and trembles like a small animal with a fast heartbeat.
Hazmat leans down, taking the other.
Threce begins to jingle its bell, some of the rust coming away to give it a cheerful, though no less off-key, tinking sound. *Push push, Sepdet and Hazmat push push. Play rider. Not riders. Play. Threce play.*
Hazmat's brow furrows, trying to make sense to the spirit's talk.
Sepdet starts forward, shoving the odd little beast along. Its chatter and pitch rise as its feet begin to coast, toes tucked in, rolling along in the same motion as before. Threce mumbles, *Play. Lonely no more riders. Threce, Sepdet, and Hazmat. Three. We play.*
Hazmat helps Sepdet push the spirit forward, repeating garbled versions of the words the creature uses.
Sepdet loses hold of the creature. It seems to pick up more speed than it should, just from the two Garou's pace.
Hazmat blinks, the handlebar slipping from her hands. She stares, agape, at the spirit.
The tricycle rings triumphantly. *Threce play. Run real fast now. Play run, run ahead, and Garou push. Air good. Push push push, and now try to catch up!* With that, it suddenly breaks away from Hazmat and disappears rapidly into the shadows, its childish bell diminishing to hollow clinks, then a distant rattle, then silence.
Hazmat jogs to a halt, watching the spirit vanish. ~Wow.~
Sepdet stands and straightens, looking at Hazmat in bemusement and shaking her head slowly. ~I hope it doesn't attract anything's attention.~ She doesn't sound too worried. ~That was a difficult one to understand. You seemed to be catching some of the sense, though.~
Hazmat nods. ~Mac tried to teach me some, but it's harder than human-talk.~
Sepdet nods. ~Much harder. But easier, in that the voice doesn't matter so much as the intent. Hard part is figuring out the intent of a g'dachting weaver spirit.~
Hazmat glances at Sepdet. ~G'dachting?~
Sepdet gathers up most of her food but leaves some out for the rats. ~Impolite. I think it would be something like "goddamn" in human speech.~
Hazmat ohs.
Sepdet moves towards the mirror, smiling faintly.
Hazmat contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Hazmat finishes shifting into Lupus form.
Hazmat pads back. In moments, she's back in the fallout shelter.
Sepdet takes a little longer this time; she seems a bit tired.
Sepdet looks around to make sure Sebek didn't wake up in their absence. ~You ought to hold a dance in here sometime. Put all the mattresses on the floor so it won't be quite so hard.....then get your pack and some rat-spirits to have a revel.~
Hazmat lolls her tongue. You think so?
Sepdet thinks it would be fun.
Hazmat chuffs. Maybe after we come back from City.
Sepdet looks around. ~After you figure out what's happening to the city. A thing to celebrate. I have a bottle of Strider beer waiting for when these Dancers are dealt with.~
Hazmat wags her tail.
Sepdet lowers her voice a bit. ~It's not that good; Drew used some sort of native beer that smells odd with the onions. But it's perfectly fine for non-ritual purposes.~
Hazmat chuffs. Ever had Mad Dog?
Sepdet blinks. ~There is a drink named mad dog?~
