Logs

Logs Home

2002 January 27

2002 January 27

2002 January 30

2002 February 10

2002 February 24

2002 March 10

2002 April 07

2002 May 02

2002 June 02

2002 June 16

2002 July 14

2002 August 25

2002 September 08

2002 September 22

2002 October 20

2002 November 03

Weston

Weston Home

Dramatis Personae

Game Logs

Realms

Realms Home

Dishonored

Goblin Town

Neverneverwhere

The Whole of the Law

Waking Dreams

When The Bough Breaks


One-Shot

Retired

Birthright

Burning Man

Cosmic Guardians

DNAnimals/Tamashii

Fukusei Crystals

Heartwood

Hunter

Idlewild

Indigo

Inizii

Morning Rain

NachtMusik

Oloth

Paradon

Scarred Lands

Shattered Stars

Starfall

Weston


Style Test

Reality Fault

Home

Player

Character

Referee

Programmer

Administrator

Operations


Search RealityFault:

General Info

Glossary

Realms

Events

Credits

Help Files

Help Files (old)


Reality Fault

Realms: Weston Logs

Bonne Chance!

Opening the door to his assigned room, Kavanaugh sets the big feline down. It relinquishes his perch with an accusatory "Rrrp! Miou!"

Kavanaugh says, "Oh, relax, Yarnchaser. It could have been worse. They could have knocked us both out with baseball bats or something." He gives a bit of a start and looks at the cat. "Well, yes, of course that would be worse! You'd not look good after being hit with a bat, I can assure you."

He looks to the room's terminal, and twitches a little. With a sigh, Kavanaugh sits at the desk, and turns on the terminal, looking for that video that Anikita said would be here. "Well, Yarnchaser, here goes," he says quietly. "I wonder if it's really him." He glances to the cat. "Yes, yes, I'm sure I'll be able to tell, it wasn't all that long ago." The cat licks it's paw lazilly. "I'm not THAT different! Hush, now, I think this is it...."

David looks out from the small screen. He manages a forced smile for the camera. He's not restrained in any way, but is sitting in a chair. That is definitely the David that Kavanaugh knew, though he's older now. He's wearing civilian clothes; a pair of khakis and a button-down shirt. "Bonjour, Henry. Ja vais bien. J'espere que vous etes, trop." A voice can be heard from somewhere off the screen. "En Anglais, s'il vous plait."

David nods to the man off-screen. "Oui, Monsieur." He continues on, in English this time. "I hope you're well, Henry. I'm well, even if I am being held. Do what you feel is best and don't worry about me. Bonne chance!" The video ends here..

Kavanaugh sits back heavilly, letting out a breath. "Ah, David," he says quietly. "Comment'allez vous, mon amie?" He glances to Yarnchaser. "Yes, it's him. Funny, how the first thing he says to me after all these years are simply, 'Hello, Henry. I am well, I hope you are too.' And that's it."

He stands, starting to pace, and lets out a breath. "What the hell happened, then? What was it in the Sud--" He shakes his head, and immediately sits down again on the bed. He runs a hand over his forhead. "No... not the Sudan," he murmurs. His hand shakes a little bit.

In a moment, he has composed himself, and straightens again. "'Do what you feel is best,' eh, David? Well, Yarnchaser, looks like we're taking a trip Down Under. I hope you don't mind." The cat has taken an intense interest in finding a corner of the bed to claim as it's own. Kavanaugh rolls his eyes. "You don't have to come if you don't want, you know.... Okay, okay, forget I mentioned it...." He stands, and goes over to inspect the gear that Anikita's people apparently grabbed while they were grabbing him and Yarnchaser.

Geneviev finds her room after the conference and pokes around in the footlocker for the promised meal, smiling a little at the blue-plastic wafers. She pours herself a glass of water and finishes it and takes a handful of the wafers with her as she goes back out into the hall. Starting to nibble the edge of the first one she goes to the door across the hall that's partly open and taps on it.

Kavanaugh looks up, and glances over his shoulder. Visitors? Oh, silly... maybe it's one of the other people who've been drafed into this. "Entre-vous!" he calls out quietly, curious.

Geneviev pushes the door open and pokes her head in and answers quietly in French, "Hello. Am I disturbing you and your ...uhm...friend?"

Kavanaugh blinks, and laughs quietly, standing. "No, you're not disturbing us at all, m'child. Please come in. It's been a long time since I've spoken French. I didn't catch your name at the... ahh... 'briefing.'"

Geneviev steps into the room. "Geneviev. I think the gentleman said you were Father Kavanaugh?"

Kavanaugh bobs his head. That's right, my child. Father Henry Kavanaugh, at your service!" He sketches what seems to be a reasonable somewhat courtly bow. "I'd offer you something to drink, but I suspect that there's little more than water in the footlocker, if that will suffice?"

Geneviev shrugs. "I've already had something to drink. Thank you, though." She takes a small bite of the blue wafer and looks over at Yarnchaser. "How long have you...uhm...known each other?"

Kavanaugh grins, and leans against the desk, reaching over to scritch the cat behind the ears. The feline mongrel barely takes notice of the petting, instead finding great interest in... apparently sleeping. Going on seven years now, I think. What's that?" He leans closer to the cat, frowning. "Oh, right, right. Sorry, eight years." He grins merrilly. "He says he's the brains of the outfit. He always says that."

Geneviev watches the 'exchange' curiously and walks closer. "You can really understand him? It doesn't seem he miaos or anything."

Kavanaugh gives a bit of a shrug, smiling cheerfully. "It's just his way. He doesn't talk too loud." At Geneviev's approach, the cat first perks it's ears, then twitches it's tail, opens it's eyes, and finally, finally, as if that much effort is beneath it, lifts up it's head and peers, blinking slowly, over to the woman. "I've just gotten used to how he talks over the years. Most people we meet just don't have the knack. It takes some time."

Geneviev hmms thoughtfully and reaches to pet the cat with her free hand. "Would you rather speak in English so he can understand, then?"

Kavanaugh grins. "That might suit him better, m'child," he says. His accent is slightly British, but almost buried beneath a Canadian-American NorWest one. "He's picked up some French over the years, but only enough, it seems, to correct me when I'm wrong about something." The cat does indeed go "Prrrt," then, but probably only because of the petting from the person who's holding food. "Oh, hush, you," the priest adds, chuckling. "The Lord knows my mind isn't what it used to be, I don't need you to keep reminding me too, furball."

Geneviev smiles and strokes his ears and takes a bite of the wafer before looking back up to Kavanaugh. "Did you spend some time in France?" Her accent remains slightly French.

Kavanaugh blinks a bit, and then chuckles a bit. "You could say that, yes -- oh, who am I kidding, I'm getting too old to play the 'mysterious masked man' bit. Here." He takes off his ring, and offers it to her. "Four years in Castelnaudary, then the next several years nowhere near France for the most part, but surrounded by French-speakers."

The ring itself is fairly plain; however, it is not strictly a fleur that it depicts, but a sphere from which erupt seven flames in a fleur-de-lis pattern. The motto upon it -- 'Legio Patria Nostra' -- is obvious, but in smaller type is 'Les Legion Etranger Francais.'

Geneviev puts the wafers down to take the ring that's offered instead of stopping her idle petting of Yarnchaser.

Geneviev hands it back after turning it over and looking at the incription. "A school ring, then. Did you enjoy your time there?"

Kavanaugh blinks a bit to Geneviev, then grins quietly, taking it back. "Not exactly school, no," he says quietly, putting it back on. "I was in the French Foreign Legion for a time, m'child. I suppose their training base at Castel could be called a school."

Geneviev ohhs. "I'm not all that familiar with the military or special forces. How long were you in?"

The cat, during this time, has been leaning more and more, inch by inch, towards the wafers that Geneviev put down. "What's that?" Kav asks, looking to the cat. "Oh, faith... you're right, where are my manners? Please, feel free to sit, m'child."

As Geneveiv sits, Kav leans once again against the desk with a bit of a sigh, smiling. "A standard contract, five years. I was in Signals, communications and information technology."

Geneviev nods and sits down on the edge of the bed, switching hands to keep petting the cat. "So...four years in the training and another five? That's a significant amount of time. Is that why these people are interested in you, do you think?"

Kavanaugh says, "Well, I was stationed out of Castel, my regiment wasn't deployed until my fifth year and that was to... well... ehm." He looks a bit out-of-sorts for a moment, but recovers quickly. "As to why they're interested in me, m'child, I have no idea. I've spent seven -- er, eight," he amends, glancing to the cat sheepishly, "eight years as a priest doing some work other than the Lord's on the side. Maybe some of that is what made me catch their eye.""

Geneviev's brow furrows a bit at the lapse, curious, but not willing to press him on it. "Lord who? One of the royal family?"

The question obviously takes Kavanaugh aback. "Er... th' Lord. You know. Or maybe you don't, which is fine. I'm a priest, m'child. By 'the Lord's work' I mean the work of a priest, chaplain, padre, a pretre."

Geneviev blinks and cocks her head a little, thinking. "I...don't think I've heard the term."

Kavanaugh blinks. Slowly. The cat is blissfully oblivious to anything except for the petting he gets. "Ah... wow." He leans back a little, his brow furrowed. "Uh... Church... where you come from do they have a.... Faith, for that matter, where do you come from, if I may ask, m'child?"

Geneviev nods. "Oh...church...those interesting looking buildings with the gargoyles and things on them. Your Lord is the ruler that owns one of them?" She watches him, curiously, her petting hand no longer moving. "From? New Mode Technology. Or did you mean country?"

Kavanaugh looks kind of startled and just kind of gapes at Geneviev for a few moments. Finally he shakes his head. "Uh... ruler? Owns? Er... not... not quite. Er... yes, I... kind of meant what country. I gather from your command of francais that you are from France, but wherein, m'child?"

Geneviev ohhs. "I'm just...French...I guess." She shrugs. "New Mode Technology is in Seattle."

Kavanaugh looks very confused for a few moments more, reasonably sure that any further questions are improper to ask of a young lady -- Then again, Lord, is she a 'young lady?' Is she even young? What about a lady? -- then scratches the back of his head, giving a bit of an unsure laugh. "Ah... okay, I think. Er... right. So, ah, well, back to the Churchs... er, no, that is, there's no person that owns them, it's... hard to explain, I suspect even harder than I think it would be. Uh, you haven't heard the word 'priest' before... have you ever heard the word 'deity' or 'god' before?"

Geneviev nods. "Yes. 'Oh my god.' 'For god's sake.' 'For the love of god.' 'God dammit.'" She nods again and takes a resoundingly crunchy bite of one of the blue plastic wafers.

Kavanaugh looks mildly yet increasingly horrified at the extent of Geneviev's use of the word "god." "Oh merde," he murmurs, sliding into the chair at the desk and leaning back heavilly. The extremely loud *crunch* startles him a bit, and he looks over at the girl, frowning. For the first time, he realizes... not even a hallucinogenic snackaholic has ever seen crackers quite in that shade of blue. "What... er... what is that you're eating, m'child?"

Geneviev glances down at her snack. "This? Just a suspension of silicon in polystyrene."

Kavanaugh has enough electronics knowledge to know that this is less of a bedtime snack and more of a formula for microprocessor dies. That's the rational side of the priest. The everyday side of him hangs his jaw open for a bit, blinking. After a few seconds, he closes his mouth, and swallows. "Ah... I see. That's... a mighty unusual diet, m'child. At least, to me it is." I think I'll pass on asking for a taste, after all, Lord. "What... er, this might be a bit personal, but... er, why do you... partake of that?

Geneviev watches the array of expressions that occupy the priest's face as he digests her words. "Oh...it's not all that tasty, I suppose. I was told that I need it to survive, though...or at least to continue to be able to move."

Kavanaugh nods slowly. "You eat other things for food, then," he asks, maybe a little hopefully.

Geneviev shakes her head. "It smells interesting, sure, but I haven't had an opportunity to try yet. I haven't had any money or anything and it's easier to find some plastic or glass when I'm hungry."

That almost makes the priest fall out of his chair. Oh, Lord... I'd heard rumors, but... oh, my. All things considered, he thinks he handles it fairly well. He's only dumbfounded for maybe twenty seconds. "Well... er... at least one of us won't have to worry about catching any bugs in Australia," he says quietly. He looks to Yarnchaser, as the cat begins to lightly headbutt her petting hand. "What, ah, what did you do for New Mode Technology?"

Geneviev scritches Yarnchaser's ears as she answers, "Corporate terminations."

She smiles incongruously and looks down at Yarnchaser, moving her hand to scritch under his chin.

Kavanaugh's mouth closes with a bit of a snap, the colloquialism not lost upon him. The cat seems to not have gotten it, and half-closes its eyes, giving a nice pleasant buzzing purr. Oh, Lord have mercy on us, he thinks. If I'm right, Lord, she's an android assassin. One gone rogue, if I remember her words right from the 'briefing.' This mission just got so much more worrisome. Thank God I'm sane enough to deal with it. He manages a quiet smile. "Ah. A growth industry, I understand."

Geneviev shrugs. "I don't know much about that. I guess so, considering that these people seem to want me for something...and it's what I'm trained for. I've only just started, though, so I really don't know how often I would have been needed. I learned other things, too, but I haven't had the opportunity to exercise those abilities."

Kavanaugh nods slowly. "Ah, did your bosses send you here, or were you...." What? Knocked out, had a mickey slipped in her silicon, given some spiked polymer, chloroform on her processor? That's even assuming she's an android. Though eating glass is a trick in and of itself.... "Uh, were you... brought here against your will, like the rest of us?"

Geneviev nods. "I was gassed...it was a bit strange...using gas when it was only a minor eye adjustment, but I'm not a street doc and it was the first I'd had to see one....I guess I had it coming, though...I didn't have anything to pay him."

Kavanaugh nods a bit, grimacing. "Some of those street docs can be pretty conniving, I guess...." How in the world am I supposed to break the news to her, Lord? "There's a lot of interesting things you've said, m'child, and I'm not sure what it all means yet, really."

Geneviev blinks, pausing in her petting of the cat. "I said something ambiguous? If we're going to be working together, I don't see much benefit to that."

Kavanaugh takes in a slow breath. "No, nothing ambiguous, m'child. And... you're right, you're right, I fully agree, if we're going to be working together, we need to be frank with each other. It's just... well, as God is my witness, you're the first person I've met who eats... silicon. And plastic. And glass."

Geneviev thinks about it. "Yes...I haven't seen it often, either. Even my...trainers seemed to find it disquieting. Glass is an adequate source of silicon, though, especially when it's hard to find in a purer form."

Kavanaugh says, "Oh, I'm not denying that at all. Silicon just... well, it's not what I usually put on my Soy-O's in the morning."

Geneviev smiles. "It's a bit gritty. I think it would probably go better with Grape Nuts."

Kavanaugh says, "Errrrr... maybe I'd better rephrase. I don't know about the others, but, I can't eat silicon. Well, that is, I probably could but I wouldn't get any... nutritional... sustenance... from, er, it...." He shakes his head, rubbing his brow. "Oy gevalt," he murmurs. "Ah... do you know what I mean, m'child?""

Geneviev nods and stands up, stretching. "Oh yes...I was joking. Must not have been all that humourous, though."

Kavanaugh blinks slowly, standing as well. "Er... pardon?"

Geneviev shakes her head. "Nevermind." She reaches down and picks up the remaining wafers. "I hope you get your friend back, Father."

Kavanaugh says, "Er... thank you, m'child...."

Geneviev gives the cat another quick pet. "I think we both have lists to write, though."

Kavanaugh blinks, then nods, "Ah... true, yes, I, ah, won't keep you from that. Feel free to stop by anytime, of course."

Geneviev says, "Oh...you're not. I think my list will be pretty short. Guns 'n ammo and some rations. Maybe a bit of armor. That should do it. You've got to pack for your friend, there though, don't you?""

Kavanaugh nods, giving a bit of a snort or a chuckle. "Oh, yes. I keep telling him he can let me go on these things by myself, but he insists, says I'd have trouble finding my boots in the morning if I didn't have him along to remind me where I'd put them. So I've got to find a way to bring him and protect him properly, as usual." He looks to the cat, a little indignantly. "I didn't say that I mind, did I?"

Geneviev smiles and waves to the two, taking a bite of a new wafer as she closes the door and heads back to her quarters.

Kavanaugh waves to Geneviev as she departs, then sits back down heavilly, tilting his head back, looking up at the cieling and letting out a loud breath. "Yarnchaser... I could have handled that better, couldn't I?" The cat simply curls up on the bed, its tail draped accross its nose. The priest sighs. "That's what I thought."

[Previous Log] [Index] [Next Log]





Last modified: 2001-Jun-12 14:29:39

All material on this site is
Copyright © 2001-2024 Reality Fault
unless specifically indicated on each document.
All Rights Reserved.
Administrated by Reality Fault Webmaster