Clothing.

Feb. 10th, 2017 12:10 pm
[personal profile] kiananlogs
Friday, 10 February 2017
The moon is in the waxing Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (95% full).

Near the fireplace a spot has been commandeered by one of the more recent renters. A table has been cleared out with a functional office chair placed in front of it. Sitting therein is one Reagan Holt, intently staring at a wide-screen laptop with a smartphone resting beside it. Notably her back is to the fire, better for her to see whom is coming or going in the larger room in the periphery of her vision. Lines of text reflect in her glasses as she sips at a steaming coffee mug. She's down to merely three layers of clothing now, so close to the fire.

A dark-furred wolf can be spotted heading into the courtyard, and then the sliding glass doors are opened bot by a wolf, but by Yael. The woman closes the door firmly behind her and sheds her jacket, looking back out over the rain before visibly acknowledging that she's noticed Reagan. The woman nods, although she looks like she's heading for the kitchen rather than the fireplace as she sheds first her jacket, and then unpins her headscarf.

The movement is caught in the corner of the blonde's eye. She tilts her head up to notice the arrival, immediately tilting her head up higher to stare. Recognition flashes in her eyes as she internally debates a moment, eyes shifting back and forth.

As the headscarf is removed, Reagan speaks up, "Hello Shai-Nefer." Eyes returning to her screen as she remembers the Adren's introduction clearly. "Ah… I would be Watches the Small. I believe we met briefly. Doctor Reagan Holt… actually." Deciding it's in her best interests to try and reintroduce herself to the ranking Garou.

Yael raises her eyebrows for a moment, and offers a nod of acknowledgement. "Good afternoon, Reagan," she says, and the adren gives the woman an almost critical looking-over as she changes direction to move— one could even say stride— over towards the fireplace and the woman's workspace. "Are you busy at the moment?" There's somewhat of expectation in the question, but at the same time there is enough room left for the cliath to answer 'no' if she should so choose.

Seeing the ranking younger woman approach, Reagan exhales with resignation as she quickly types a few messages out then closes her laptop. Rising to her feet with her fingers on the table she looks up to Shai-Nefer with attentive neutrality. "Not particularly," she responds functionally.

Yael slips one hand into her pocket and nods. "Good," she responds, and picks up a wooden chair to carry it with her, such that she can take a seat nearby. "I recall you said something about your clothing," she continues, "and wanted to offer to help you with that. I can do a rite— dedication— on your clothing, so that it should shift with you."

Immediately, Reagan's expression changes. Her eyebrows lift in clear surprise.

"Oh." The Doctor adjusts her current sweater as she smiles lightly, "Actually. Yes. Yes that would be very helpful. Thank you." Somehow one gets the impression only rarely she's been pleasantly surprised these days. She looks looks around a moment, stepping from the table to go grab her coat by the door, "Do I... Do I need to offer anything? I don't know how that rite goes."

Yael removes a small swiss army knife from her pocket, and glances towards the kitchen. "Go and get a bowl with water in it, about one half full," she instructs, with all the appearance of someone who has vast stores of patience to draw on. "And you're welcome. Make sure that the clothing you are wearing is the clothing you want to keep wearing, it does not work on too many things at once."

Reagan takes a moment to glance down to herself, wearing her usual multiple-layered attire. She shrugs her coat onto her arms as she walks over in her sensible walking boots. Adjusting her hair bun and primping herself needlessly, she adds, "Okay. Will do." Going then to the kitchen to fetch the requested items.

Her voice calls out amidst clattering dishes, "I suppose this will work. At least until the summer.. How long does it last?"

The adren furrows her brows, and considers for a moment, and then Yael answers, "A while. It might not last if you changed clothing, and then left the clothing you have dedicated here and went to the city, for instance. Too much distance and the spiritual tie that the ritual creates goes away." She shrugs, "But," she continues, and her tone of voice is carefully neutral, although the expression on her face suggests she fully understands the pointedness of the following remarks, "I'm not a theurge, I know that these things work without always understanding the how or the why."

Reagan returns with the bowl, setting it on the table a good distance from her laptop. Her gaze returning to Yael as she speaks of what a Theurge should or should not know. She offers a simple 'heh' under her breath as she nudges her glasses higher on her nose.

"Fair enough." Choosing to ignore and continue along the process, as this is a procedure she's wanted done for some time. That and she's had her fill of arguing with Elders, for now, "Can we begin then? Or do you need more time?"

Yael gestures with her free hand towards the bowl, and simply nods. "Put your hand over the bowl." And then adds, "This will hurt a little." When Reagan has done so, the adren gets up and moves over, grasps the woman's hand and without any further warning, draws the knife across the palm to drip blood into the water, letting it swirl for a moment. And then the knife is set on the table next to the bowl, into which Yael dips one finger. The water-blood mixture is used to draw what are presumably garou glyphs, one on the back of Reagan's hand, one on the other hand, one on her forehead. The entire process is very business-like, done without delays or explanations; Yael continues, a drop of the water-blood mixture on every exposed item of Reagan's clothing, and then she adds, "Put the water on your socks and your underwear, or it will not shift with you."

Glancing at the knife in Yael's hand, Reagan had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen minutes prior. As such she's had some mental preparation done as she removes a glove to hold her pale hand out over the bowl.

She wasn't quite prepared for how deeply the knife would cut. With a sharp intake of breath she lets the sting grow as her blood mixes with the water. Immediately after she clenches her fist, holding the cut closed to let the wound coagulate faster as she then lets Yael go about her business of anointing her clothing. Making sure her gloves also are christened she murmurs something wordlessly at the final order. Eyes rolling to the ceiling a moment she dabbles her ungloved finger tip into the water. Almost comically pulling her waistband open enough to slip her hand within and ensure all garments are properly applied.

As she crouches down to apply her boots and warm stockings she announces, "Alright. That should cover just about…" Pausing as she touches the rim of her glasses, "Everything."

There is a nod, and the adren offers a brief, small smile. "Good, now shift," Yael offers the next instruction, before amending it with, "to lupus, if you don't mind. And then back, and then we will talk a little."

There is a hesitation, glancing at the red spot on her otherwise clean white coat. Taking a deep breath her arms fall to her sides as she lets the change wash over her. Her form changes and warps as she collapses to all fours, stretching into a Eurasian Wolf. Shaking out her coat she then prowls in a circle, looking upon herself as she does so and seeming quite pleased. Her fur coat is now changed, with brighter blonde patches along her flanks mildly suggestive of wearing a pale coat. With a small yip of approval she then hops to her hind legs and Reagan stands before Shai-Nefer once more.

Adjusting her coat and looking down to herself, also flexing out her healed hand she genuinely smiles, "Excellent! Thank you, I've been meaning to have this done for ages."

When the cliath returns to homid, there are no traces of any of the water-blood mixture, anywhere on her clothing, and Yael simply nods. "You're welcome," she says, and gestures towards the seat, remaining standing for a moment longer before sitting down herself. "For one thing, it is unfair to everyone around you who might have to interact with you if you are unable or unwilling to freely shift within the boundaries of the Bawn because of something as inconsequential and as easily fixed as clothing. For two, I had the free time and it is not difficult for me." She pauses, and furrows her brows, and says, "So tell me about yourself?" It is an order, but also an invitation. So far, at least, the Strider is easy to talk to, and a good listener.

Reagan removes her coat, this time simply slinging it over the back of a nearby chair as she returns to her spot before her laptop. Seating herself as bidden she reclines, folding her elbows on the tabletop as she steepled her fingers together. Looking genuinely pleased, she accepts Yael's statement of protocol with an accepting nod of her head.

As the order is given, Reagan closes her eyes as she exhales, "Alright." Making herself comfortable as she then raps her finger tips on the tabletop.

"After receiving my doctorate in microbiology at Berkeley I've spent the past twenty years doing research on environmental studies on industrial waste and related bioproducts and how it affects wildlife. And people. I've written several papers and been published many times. I'm one of those people who gives corporate polluters nightmares in legal." Taking a breath she then mentions with a wave of her hand, "As you've noticed, not a whole lot of that has involved being Garou. I'm… not in practice."

There is a nod, and Yael listens through the entire time, "That is a good thing to work against, though," she says. "Industrial pollution is a thing that happens because of the Wyrm's influence throughout our world. Sometimes with the Wyrm's help and sometimes without it. I spent some of the time while I was in Africa, working with the Ahadi— it is an alliance of many of the shifters in Africa, because there are not many Garou around— there and we were particularly working on cleaning up near Lagos, which has so many industrial plants that there are days you cannot see three blocks. It is not much better now, but the banes that were living underneath the factories are gone and it has been improving, slowly." This said, the adren continues, "But you are here now. So that must mean something."

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Kianan Rowan Abrams

July 2017

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