Natalie's out back in the greenhouse putting up a set of steel shelves, She's easily spotted from the kitchen or any of the windows along the north side of the mansion. The greenhouse is currently plant-free; only the framing is green. Perhaps it's merely a solarium.

As it happens, Quentin's exploring the estate grounds; stepping in to the door, he raps on the metal edge of the doorframe to get some attention. "Hey," he offers, flashing a quick smile, "Greenhouse?"

Natalie swears and lunges for one of the uprights that picks this time to succumb to gravity. She manages to catch it, but the action stretches her into a three-dimensional Twister pose, and she has to greet the other Galliard under her arm. "...Oh, hey Quentin. Could you give me a hand? I swear these things need three arms to put 'em up."

Quentin cocks his head a bit to one side to look at her under her arm, a grin blossoming upon his lips. "...yeah, I guess I could. You look like you need it." A soft chuckle then, stepping over to grab hold of the upright and suggesting, "You can untangle yourself now."

Natalie does, stealing a moment to shake her arm out. "Thanks. If you can just hold that for a minute, I can get it screwed in. Where'd those supports go..." A moment's fumbling and she comes up with the support, then bolts and nuts to tie the whole thing together. "You're a lifesaver. So how've you been? And can you hand me the screwdriver? S'just behind your foot there."

"...I can't hand you the screwdriver -and- hold this up," Quentin points out quite reasonably, though he does crane his neck to look down; shifting to nudge the screwdriver over closer. "I'm alright," he allows casually, "Been quiet lately, but, I'm not in the loop anymore."

Nudging is good enough; Nat's able to hold things together with a knee pressed into the shelving long enough to grab the screwdriver. "That's fixable enough, easy. All you have to do is ask. I'm not gonna dump stuff on you if you're trying to relax, though." She squints up at him as she threads the various bits together. "So you asking?"

At that, Quentin chuckles quietly. "If I wanted to relax," he observes in wry tones, "I'd still be down in LA, enjoying the central air and hydroponics gardens at Steel Angel."

"You asked," Nat warns playfully, tightening the first bolt and ooching over to repeat the manuever on Quentin's side. "Let's see... you know about Salem leaving. Have you heard about Joshua? Leala's challenge? The Russians? Konstantin?"

"I know a bit about the Russians. I know that Joshua's a whiny, indecisive little brat that needs to find some convictions to stick to. I haven't heard Lea's challenging... and I've met Konstantin, if you mean the 'Lord," Quentin replies, shifting to make room for her, "But not in a long time."

Natalie makes equally fast work of the bolt on his side, then slips another set of hardware through their corresponding holes. "Well, start at the center, I guess, and move outward. Leala's Challenged me for Elder. Seems she thinks someone who's been here for a long time and never done anything is better for the tribe than someone who's just arrived and is busting her butt." To her credit Nat manages to keep her voice mostly free of bitterness. "Her Challenge - and I'm not going into details because she hasn't heard it yet - has to do with Joshua." She pauses there to concentrate on her work, but it's clear she has more to say.

"Speaking of the little twit, he's currently in limbo. He's said he's not a Walker anymore, but it's Salem's opinion that unless we make him Ronin or he gets adopted by another tribe, he still is. Which sucks, if you ask me, but eh. Last I saw him was Tuesday night, when he came by the place drunk off his ass. Word to the wise - stay far away from him. 'Nutjob' doesn't even begin to come close. Alicia was pissed because he decided the thing to do with his empty beer bottles was bury them on the bawn." Now she stops, squinting over as she waits for a reaction.

Quentin takes a step to the side as the first job is finished, reaching in to hold the second in place as she begins to work at it. "...he buried his beer bottles on the bawn?" An incredulous look, "Jesus. And yeah, technically he's still a Walker, unless we formally cast him out. Which, given the conversation we had, seems like a good idea to me."

A quiet moment later, he adds reluctantly, "...might've been better to cull him when he was still a cub, in the long run."

Natalie grins like she has fishhooks pulling up the corners of her mouth. "Hindsight is twenty-twenty, yeah. I wanted to pop him one first time I met him, and nothing's happened to change my mind. ...You've talked to him? What did you think?" While he speaks she shakes another nut and bolt out of the little plastic bag and starts to work on the second support on her side.

Quentin shakes his head slowly, "He doesn't like the city. Hates the 'Gnawers. Thinks the Children are 'useless hippies'. If what you told me is right, he doesn't really belong in the woods, either." A grimace, "He doesn't belong anywhere, it seems."

Natalie says, "I don't often say this, but that boy shoulda been a hand job. --Oh, you can let go of that now. Thanks." Now that the first shelf is in, the other two are easier to set up. Of course. "Let's see, Russians. OK. The man with the plan - or at least the details - is Jeremy. Rough outline, though, is that there are two factions within the Russian mob here in St. Claire. There's the 'normal' faction and the bionic man set. Both of them want Salem dead. Konstantin's been asked to do the deed. I dunno if this is him specifically, or just him in general - everyone's got a standing order to shoot on sight. Anyway. Since Salem's planning on leaving town, we're going to make a nice surprise party for the bionic man."

Quentin drops back a step from the shelf, brushing his hands against each other a bit. "Such a popular man, the boss is," he allows in rather dry tones, shaking his head a bit, "Alright, makes sense. We have any clue what the fuck is with these weird-ass super-russians?"

"Nope. We have some of the edges, but the middle of the puzzle isn't filled in. Again, talk to Jer. He's cracked their hard drives. That hysterical giggling you hear in the middle of the night is probably him gloating." She stands to set up the last of the shelves. "--Oh yeah, and supposedly this place is haunted. I haven't seen anything weird since I got here, though. Anyway, back to the Russians. Plan is that Konstantin'll lure the bionic man to a warehouse to help him 'off' Salem. Then all the Indians in the world'll ride straight down on him..." She grins sidelong. "Sorry, Cosby sketch."

"I know," Quentin says with a glance to one side, looking through the glass towards the mansion, "Though nobody's seen the ghosts in awhile... I think they finally settled down, or else someone took care of 'em. I never got the full story last time I visited."

Natalie says, "I'm willing to live and let live. Or whatever. Again, this is Salem's baby - I'm not even sure who's doing all the planning. I think Signe's soon-to-be-pack will be part of the mayhem, though. That's one thing you could do to help - find out if Salem's doing the planning, or what. Every time I ask him about it he gets prickly. Er."

Quentin chuckles faintly, "Yeah, he can be a bit... private about that sort of thing. It's frustrating, sometimes, the fact that he almost never actually -talks- to most people."

Natalie agrees, "Damn straight. --Oh. That reminds me - he suggested I get the story from you of how he almost culled you because of something John said." She steps back to give the shelving a critical once-over. "Yeah, that'll do. Now we just need plants." She looks over to the blue-haired boy. "Doesn't have to be tonight, though. Let me finish my data dump first. D'you think you've got everything you need, or at least enough to get started poking about?"

Quentin's noes wrinkles just a bit at that. "He likes reminding me of that, for some reason," he says in dry tones, shaking his head, "Sure, I can tell you if you want, sometime. It's not exactly complicated." A pause, "Should be enough. I'll talk to Jer."

"I asked him about John and Roger, since Jer likes to bring them up constantly," Nat says as she tidies up her tools. "He didn't have a lot to say about Roger; more about John. I wouldn't mind your opinons on them, if you've got 'em. Maybe later tonight? I'm gonna drive around and see if I can find a decent Chinese place. I'd seriously consider breaking the Litany for a good wonton."

A laugh tumbles from the blue-haired Galliard's lips at that, turning to move towards the greenhouse's door. "I know a good place... and you won't even have to break the Litany for it. Give me a call later, then."

Natalie informs him straight-faced, "I love you. Yeah, I will. Thanks for your help, Quentin. Good luck prying anything out of lock-jaw."

"Ah, she propositions me and tells me that she loves me on our second meeting-- the women, they can't resist me. It's the hair, I know it is..." That is an entirely non-serious tone of voice, and Quentin's grinning as he strolls out of the greenhouse, "Talk to you later, Nat."

A bolt goes flying over his shoulder as he flees, accompanied by a chuckle and a fond, "Love 'em and leave 'em. Bastard."

He ducks that blue-haired head a bit, then grins over his shoulder briefly. As he heads across the lawn, his words drift back, "...we'll always have the greenhouse, baby."

[End of log]