#bergen_county

Adam has not seen Nabuni since he told her to Go Away. It's almost weird to wake up without her around.

Meanwhile, a certain sluagh can't find his cat. Lovecraft has a mind of her own (Unless she has removed a mouse's brain from its skull in which case she has TWO) so Symon may not be terribly worried, but he does see some prizes worth having while he's looking about. There, in the Thomas Family Yard, is a great big tree that has these leaves that have fallen.

He pauses, eyeing the house. Last time he was there, it was fraught with unpleasant things - a giant spider (perfectly pleasant once dead, though) and a somewhat insufferable kinain (hey, maybe he could also be pleasant... no no, must not think such rude thoughts. Moving over to the yard, he peers at the leaves on the ground - looking for the perfect specimens, color changed for the new season, crisp and fragile, but not yet crumbled from attack by rake or boot.

The leaves at the base of the tree will do, and more, they have a pattern that... oh cool... did they fall into a perfect spiral?

Impressed, he squats down there, admiring the pattern of leaf on ground, inhaling the scent of the fall, slightly dank on crisp air, before reaching to pluck the first leaf.

The creepy doll from the little girl's window watches with beady little eyes.

Symon keeps a watch around him - one used to creeping through alleys and yards not necessarily belonging to him, he knows to keep an eye out. Taking care to pluck the leaves with tender fingers from the lawn, stacking them Just So in the same order as they had fallen.

Oh this could make for a powerful bunk. Carefully.

He rests them with much care, each slightly separated between pages of a book whose binding had disintegrated over time, and works on folding up the packet to tuck away where it can't be damaged.

Adam scuffs out of the house on the way to school.

A slug crawling too close to the corner of a leaf is plucked away with care - Symon hears Adam, but at a crucial step, pages laid out on his thighs as he crouches, he can't move just yet without disturbing the setup. One more page, set the leaf just so....

The mortal watches the pavement as he gets into his car and starts it.

Slightly surprised at being ignored, but not displeased - the crouching kid turns his head...neck twisting just a bit unaturally to keep his gaze on Adam through lanks of oily hair... before turning back to carefully close up the last page, and put his gains into his backpack. Tucked between science and history texts, it should be safe for now.

Peering around, and calling softly, "Psss pssss psss, Lovecraft. Time for school, unless you want to stay outside all day. Ann Marie already locked up when I left."

Not so much ignored as apparently not seen.

Lovecraft comes around "Boreeed"

Not that Adam would understand the difference... heads turn when he walks down the hall, and not because they're wondering "What's that smell?" Symon gives the cat a brief grin, and reaches over to pick her up if Miss Finicky allows it. "Well, I have comp sci today. Maybe there will be bugs in the code that you can chase."

He ruffles her fur. "And tonight we'll go out on the town, yeah? Find something especially fun to do, it's YOUR day after all, Miz Black Cat."

Lovecraft goes up into the arms "mmm Y2k... so much promised mayhem, so little delivery. The 13th..." A pur "it delivers"

He drapes her over his shoulder in the customary spot and straightens up, bag on the opposite shoulder, glancing to see if Adam is still moping in his car.

He's staring at the dashboard, then shrugs and starts to put the car in gear.....

The car rrrrs... and dies. Behold the power of the 13th.

Symon looks thoughtful at the car, a small smile at whatever he's thinking. Then he reaches over to tap at the window, the amused look fading.

Adam jumps, and looks over. He rolls down the window. "Hey Simon." A pause. "Want a ride?"

He raises a brow, and taps a finger on the hood. "Does it matter if I did? Sounds like your car gave up already this morning. Normally I wait until Social Studies to decide if the day is a total loss."

Adam shrugs. "I can call dad, or triple-A. Can get us an ride service. If you want."

He glances at his watch - did he spend too much time on those leaves, or can they still make it on time walking?

Yeah. They dcan make it on time walking

He shrugs to Adam. "Not sure how long Triple A will take, but if we walk now, we'll be on time."

"Ok. I'll text day." He gets out, grabs his bag, and locks up. A few seconds as they start walking and he tucks his phone away. "Dad's going to get someone to looks at it."

"That's cool." A few quiet steps. "That your dad can answer like that. Mine has to turn his phone off when he's in the theater."

"Theater?"

"Operating room - he's a surgeon. They call it a theater - it goes back to when an operation was a public spectacle and people would come watch." A sigh touched with jealous longing. "He won't let me, though. I thought of trying to fuddle my way in, but there's too much chill around hospitals most times. You can find bits of spark here and there, but mostly it's depressing."

The two have to pick up the pace to be sure they make it.

Adam nods understanding.

"How's it going? Any more spiders at home?" As he ups his pace from a mosey to a slightly faster shuffle, he shortens his sentences a bit and leaves Adam to carry on the conversation as he breathes just a bit heavier.

Adam's athlete build has no problem with the pace. "Ok, I guess. No new monsters."

"Oh." A touch of disappointment, perhaps. A few minutes silent - leaving a sluagh to carry on the conversation will do that, before he mentions, "Your devil not coming to school today?" A hand reaching up to pat Lovecraft.

A scowl. "She's not mine. And no. Hope not."

Lovecraft purrs. A day of doom has her feeling down right snuggly

"She seems like she's yours. No offense. These nuisances often attach themselves to us when we first awaken, and it can be hard to get rid of them. Isn't that right, you little parasite, you?" A touch of a croon onto his voice, before he realizes it and covers with a cough. A Manly cough.

"Dibs on your eyes" The cat stretches.

"Of course, dear." To Adam, "I promised she can eat my face when I die. It's not much of a promise - she'd do it anyways."

Yup. Another purr.

"Uhhh.... ok." Uncertainly. "But no, Nab's not mine."

"She came with the house."

"Yours" Lovecraft says

is she still talking about eyes?

"Sounds like yours. You woke her up, anyways. I think your sister is too young for her type, and she's got her poltergeist doll claiming dibs. " Thoughtful. "I wonder if she's tied to the house, like a ghost - doomed to haunt rooms filled with teenage dreams for eternity. Or until they knock the house down someday."

"You -know- about that!?!?!" Alarmed.

"They're knocking your house down?"