drums-on-skulls: May 2004 Archives

May 28, 2004

.05.28.04. - always [rumor] *fng

[downtown = cont'd from last scene]

(james)
dark eyes still on the floor, he can only hear her move
slow footsteps on the boards, comforter's dragging sweep, drawer's dry slide, fabric unfolding
right along with the borrowed clothes hanging loosely on her frame - she puts on that mask
walking up to him with a forced, plastic smile and humor's distracting salve

more silence passes slow-motion between them
(Thanks James.... I mean it.)
it only seems that with great effort can the Garou lift his gaze once more
if he's able to penetrate that mask - she doesn't have to in return
deep umber pools raw and open like some proverbial book

the Fostern is nothing more than an animal at heart
soul of a primal beast draped in the clothing of human flesh
so striking, these differences: witness to man's tainted ability to lie
confession writ in the beast's (agonized) glance

he tries so hard to hold the smile her jest inspires

"Welc'me." her feelings were true, it was not pity, charity or even abstract obligation which backed his offers, his concern genuine as the wrath fueling deep-seated hunger for revenge on those who tresspassed in his den and assaulted his kin - the Elder truly does care about this girl he's only known but a few days "C'mon... I gotta ma'e s'me calls a get help a fig're out what happ'n 'n who's respons'ble."

hesitation - questions lurking in those earthen eyes
Do you believe I can protect you? Do you trust I will do whatever it takes to make this right? Do you even feel safe around me anymore?
he won't force her confinement under his watch
he won't blame any doubts of him that now fill her mind
he won't question her choice of finding another place she feels safe to stay
the decision is hers to follow him out of the room

"I'll get us 'nother room f'r th' nigh'... " oh, and how much this pains - shames - him to admit "....ain't safe here 'nymore......"

(rumor)
more silence passes slow-motion between them
(Welc'me.)

She notices his reaction...she can tell. As the feelings of confusion and fear are being shoved into the pit of dispair (im a poet and didnt know it) she realizes she has let him down. He was the elder, had wasted his time. his vacation of sorts to take her to his safe place.
-this was why she hadnt had pack before.- If you dont have people who give a shit, you dont have to worry about fucking something up and letting them down...Here he had taken her to his safe place..where did she go wrong
Now look at the mess. Kemps ripple effect. drop a rock in the water...and the ripples all move outward Like the cherry bombs on their meeting.
She wouldnt even think frther then this being something that happened, and never had to be thought about again..'Specially what could possibly have happened.
Joke sent out, but not necesarilly all that funny.

her feelings were true, it was not pity, charity or even abstract obligation which backed his offers, his concern genuine And this she knew. Could she sent the guilt he was feeling.
[False guilt] No...instead she was feeling responsible for becoming the burden.
Way to go Rumor..someone wants to help, you find a way to end up naked and drooling with no recolections.
Now he has to move.
Now his 'safe house' wasnt safe
Now he looked at her like...well like he had been given babysitting job. And she was not pack, she was however family...of sorts.
"Ya dont haveta find out whos responsible..really...it looks like all is in tact, and well, maybe it was someone with an overall fetish, cause they just took my clothes." and mypride
Cobalt blue eyes that still hold the fear and pain, but wont let it out, no not at all...look at him, AT him, for maybe the first time since they had met. Prior, she couldnt lok at him for she would blush...now...she does look at him.
As his eyes are supposed to be saying....
Do you believe I can protect you? Do you trust I will do whatever it takes to make this right? Do you even feel safe around me anymore?
She reads it different....and offers her own look back...
im a pain in the ass, i know, thanks for not just leaving me here, thanks for at least putting up with this shit...never had many who gave a crap..who i can trust...sorry i let you down, i should have realized it first..mayeb i shouldnt drink tap water...or at least watch my drink...im sorry i fucked up your safe place....
She cannot read his eyes at all...in fact her eyes speak back.
"I'll get us 'nother room f'r th' nigh'... " oh, and how much this pains him to admit "....ain't safe here 'nymore......"
A nod and Her hand moves out and takes his arm...stopping him from exiting yet,. Not forcefully, just a light grab....
"Im sorry it isnt safe here anymore...i didnt mean to fuck shit up for you....thanks for giving me another chance...i just...i just didnt know...still dont know.." The next part comes out of her lips, but she really thought she was just thinking it...hearing her own words, and surprised they were audible. "Im freaked a bit, if ya dont mind...i will go with ya..i mean, i dont know if they were after me, or anyone, but if they did come back...id feel better knowing you were there..." yes folks that was SAID...and she feels silly
(what could i have done differently???) releasing his arm..again the grasp just to get him not to walk out, it wasnt restraining. Fingers on fleash. Hands cold....15 and she doesnt even know...if the worst thing could have happened...She wont think about it...not now.
She offers onemore shot at making him at least smirk. "Sorry you had to be flipped off by Sid Viscious"

(james)
he listens.... then takes the step her hand stopped
once the door shuts behind them - the sound of the thrown bolt echoes down the hallway
then there's the button's ding and elevator's whoosh of approach
and then.... there's nothing but the city's white noise silence
floors accounted for by the autonomous bell heralding their passage
inside the car, it's just the sound of their breathing
(calm down, James, calm. down.)
he's not answering her just yet

First Floor: dining room, ballroom, reception....

muscular shoulders pull from faded wallpaper and the Ahroun makes a beeline for the caged desk
body stops before the wooden counter, but fist makes its way directly to Maruicio's lapel
not a god. damn. iota of effort half-dragging the man back over the desk and out of the cage
it's a smooth shape going from James' scowl through popped bicep into clenched fist to pale, sweaty expression topped by receeding hairline
.... and by the look on the Italian man's face, whatever James is growling under his breath isn't. pretty.

(..... s'm'ne broke inna my room...... 'm takin' care'v'it..... speak a Muph 'n th' morn'.... no 'ne. No. One. goes a six' floor..... gimme a key, 'm g'nna lock th' 'vater..... yeh..... they g'nna ans'r a me......new pad.... now.... thank'.)

it's a nod up that calls Rumor back to his side, and back into the elevator
gate rattles its way up but the Gnawer doesn't enter this time
instead he only leans to slip a key into it's hole beneath the number pad
simple twist effectively locking all access to the penthouse floor
after that - he leads the way to the stairwell
(one way to work off the steam, Jamey-boy)
climbing it's spiral to the second floor, down the hall to unlock number 207

only after the door's locked behind Rumor does James turn deep umber eyes on the teenager

"Sorry 'bou'..." negligent wave back towards from whence they came, indicating his silence and agitation "Hadda get my head straigh'." words falling in time with his bootsteps, making rounds of the extensively lower-class accomodation to assure it's current state of uninhabitance, but at least it has a bed, couch, and reasonable excuse for a kitchen.... if not the luxury of a television.... and before he goes on, he stops just before her, waiting until she looks up "It ain't y'r faul'."

silence - the Full Moon warrior's eyes holding hers until he's sure that sinks in

"Don' ev'n think tha', ah-igh'? None'v't was. 'M not mad a'cha..... jus'...... frus'rat'd I wasn' roun' a stop't.... 'n scared 's hell y got hurt in a place I tol' ya w's safe. Y'un'rstan'?"

(rumor)
White noise silence which is unbearably quiet. That type of quiet that almost creeps her out. She remains at his side as he does his thing through it all, she remains quiet and alert.

Even when she watches James interrogate Mauricio in a less than plesant way.

Fucked up. This whole night has been fucked up. Man, and to think she could have just grabbede her shit and headed back to the factory. She could have never even been in this situation. Course she wouldn’t be here then. Troble followed her, even in a situation like this.
When she didn’t look for it.
When she didn’t ask for it.
When she didn’t do anything to provoke it.

First Floor: dining room, ballroom, reception.... whatever James is growling under his breath isn't. pretty.

Now she recognizes the nod up and is instantly moving towards him. Nod up was for her, and she knew it. Words don’t escape her lips. She wasn’t scared anymore, still slightly groggy, partially embarrassed, and feeling violated. (even if physically she wasn’t at all.)

And now its time for stairs. Please don’t let him be taking her to one of the top floors, she didn’t have the energy to be climbing up the stairs.
Second floor. Perfect.

Door closes. And he looks at her. Right at her.
aint yer fault
A nod. She nods…

Somehow she could hear Kemp arguing that point. Since everything she did ended up getting her in trouble. Could have been her fault…Kemp saying nowhere was safe, Roxy inviting her back to the factory for pizza..Kemp offering her a place to stay….

She didn’t want to impose and truthfully had thought it was wiser to talk to James first, since he had helped her with a place to crash. But looking back, maybe she shouldn’t have even come back here.
but she didn’t know

A long sigh escaping her lips…a tired sigh. Searching for her voice, it hadn’t been used in a while..
“you didn’t know….shit I didn’t know…I mean it doesn’t make any sense to me…but I coulda just listened to Kemp n Roxy n stuck around the factory….but I figured I should come back here…I mean, Kemp said no place is safe around here..i just –“
words trail off…she really had no explanation. This was the perfect example of

Being in the wrong place – at the wrong time.

Simply that.

She moves to the bed and sits on the edge. Now memories from earlier tonight coming back as the lingering effects of the drugs wearing off….

Fingers move through her mess of hair and she glances up at him. “Somehow I ended up makin shit difficult…and this time I really didn’t try to….thanks for helping me out, I mean, you didn’t haveta”

(james)
"S'righ'." prompted, gently even "Neith'r've us knew. Shit happ'n, righ'?"

that could be said on the vestiges of a smile - could. it isn't.
hakuna matata and all that other jivey shit
but instead of breaking into musical interlude
the Ahroun flops onto the couch, ignoring the frame's whimpers of protest
keeping a distance, giving her space and all that esoteric bullshit
even if he's not really more than four feet away

no way far enough for her to escape the intensity of those earthen eyes
half-lit by the dimming bulb of table-propped lamp clicked on in lanky stretch

"Learn a y'r mistak', move on, yadda yadda. Life diff'cul'.... 'memb'r? We 'greed a tha'. Vacash'n's dunn las' long 'nuff.... all tha' shi'. I'm jus' sorry it dunn las' long'r.... y'know?" while his gaze had wandered in the midst of that little philosophical aside, it's right back on her as he approaches this segment's closure "I'd done it an'way." scarred shoulders lift and roll in shrug "Y'r muh kin, simple aztha'."

another shrug
then the inferno ignites behind those eyes once again
breif show of some under-skin volcano's fury
writ in the lines of tension growing through rugged jaw

"'n nobody hurt muh kin."

(rumor)
“Yeah…”shit happens…shit ALWAYS happens surroundin me….Im like a shit fuckin magnet…surprised I don’t get flies buzzin round my head 24/7”

Watchin as he claims the couch dispite its whines. A different quiet.
Not the white silence with tension behind it.
No, a different silence. This one more calm.

She finds a chuckle…even if it was short lived, it was a chuckle nonetheless…”yeah guess you said it when ya said the vacations never long….”
Fingers play with the burn hole at the bottom of the comforter. Absently making it only slightly bigger.

Its his next comment that sends an uneasy feeling through her.
my kin
Truth be told she hadn’t ever been anyones anything
That…not meaning she didn’t want to be ‘owned’ or any of that women’s lib craposhit.
Sure she was independent. But that not by choice.
just the feeling of belonging, or being given a shit about…. it felt weird. And he didn’t really have to be doin all this for her…right?
And it seems to click…something snapping together like puzzle pieces in her mind.

Pack…. family….Like what he was trying to explain her her earlier. (That night? Felt like it had been ages ago)
It was what it was. Some things just happened cause they did. Everyone needed someone to watch their back….Something she never had even though was feasible before tonight.

“well…thanks.” She pauses…
And she changes the subject
That quickly.

“Found a job, Kemps been bitchin that I shouldn’t be out swiping wallets..said it was dangerous cause I could piss off the wrong person…blah blah blah, but I kinda got his point. (after knockin heads as they always did) “Then when I found the job…old dude wanted me to look all normal”
Fingers through her hair with a look of disgust on her face.
“S’why I had to dye my hair all normalish. (auburn now) But then Roxy offered me a job at her garage, which is like my dream fucking job” she chuckles….now relaxing….as she just rambles for a moment.
(nervous ramble…tonight had not been a good night…)
“Wanted me to go stay there…” and she looks back up at James…as she realizes she is talking and talking…..and probably looks like a stupid kid

“anyways…..thanks..n all”

(james)
probably looks like a stupid kid?
then why would the Veteran Fostern be paying complete attention
listening to each and every rambly word as if - get this - it meant something
and he was taking a serious part in the conversation
some portion or glimmer of that easy smile returning to the corner of his mouth
seemingly.... pleased.... that she's carrying on like what she feels is a blithering idiot

he's happy she's talking to him.... even sharing
and not simply breaking down, internalizing everything
withdrawing from the Ahroun because he couldn't protect her
(sure sign of a Gnawer, plow on... never let things get you down)

"Nuh.... Ancien' Gnaw'r Secret - keep movin' fas' nuff where th' flies dunn catch up a yeh...." there's a knowing look in those eyes.... they're Gnawer's for Gaia's sake, of course they're shit magnets "'n y'r welc'm."

for now, half the verbal avalanche pushed aside
she can tell he heard her thoughts on the dream job with Roxy
but there's something more important for discussive hand

"Y'r Fam'ly, Rum'r. Tribe. Ask' Tris'n s'mday how far I'll go a protec' fam'ly tha' been hurt. 'n wi' this? 'M goin' far a you lemme. I wan' retribut'n f'r th' fuck'rs a broke inna muh den, 'n hurt muh girl." the words are easy, flowing evenly across the space between them, but something about the Full Moon says he's deadly serious "I c'n bring you their head, if yeh wan'..... take th' pack onna hun', make th' fuck'rs suff'r, make'm feel 'z bad a you do..... 'r I c'n keep it 'tween us, 'n not let an'body else know...... 'r not ev'n tell you wh'n I fine'm 'r wh't I do then."

moments pass in silence, letting the extent of those words sink in
he takes the opportunity to dig out his pack and Zippo
lungful of smoke filling the air before he's looking up again

"S'y'r call, Rum'r."

(rumor)
(sure sign of a Gnawer, plow on... never let things get you down)

That makes her laugh…True, if you were always movin you would always be one step ahead of the flies….True that. they WERE Gnawer forchristssake

And she listens to him as he has found his way back to the other conversation she had tried so hard to jump from. Eyes drop to the floor as she listens, not as much pitiful as just to collect her thoughts.

“Look…I don’t care who ya tell, or what…I mean you said it wasn’t my fault…Kemp’ll tell me how I was probably doin something stupid to cause it, but that’s just Kemp, he is convinced that everything is a risk and is all infatuated with this ripple effect theory he has….”
A pause…collecting thought again.

“ewww gross..naw I don’t wanna see their heads, I mean that’s cool n all, but hangin with decapitated heads is something I gave up for the month of May… she smirks. “im ‘preciative you guys are all helping me, matter of fact…it’s a weird..feelin..i never really..” those words cut off, she didn’t like even bring in that shit up, her past, old family, blah blah blah…

(sure sign of a Gnawer, plow on... never let things get you down)

and alas the subject jumps again. Perhaps it wasn’t a conscious decision for her to topic surf when she felt that strange feeling of nerves.

Eyes watch him as he pulls out a smoke, and for once she actually probably would have had one. Intense situations did that to people. Whether good sex, or a near death experience…nicotine was usually a good follow up.

But she just leans back on her elbows, no longer tormenting the burn hole on the comforter. “How'd ya get tossed in with a bunch of Get?” she chuckles…
And that…kinda a question bout how he come to be with the Eagles. Only not put as blunt.

(james)
"Kemp gotta thing f'r avengin' kin. 'spec'lly blood. Fam'ly." mused through several blown rings of smoke, reiterating that foreign policy of pack and alliances to the weary teen "He'll be ready a jump in.... though...." a brow lifts, watching her through the dissipating cloud ".... wasn' sure if you'd wannim a know, consid'rin'...."

yeh, he lets that drift off
pretending concentration necessarily narrows to toss his pack and Zippo onto the bed by her thigh
(no coffee table, don'tcha know...)
she isn't the only pro at letting subjects flop around like beached fish
(or needing a goddamned smoke after a seriously sketchy situation)
dark eyes pointedly studying a spot on the ceiling to avoid any resultant glare from the auburn-haired teen
(.... he's not blind, either)

then her last bit gets a sound they haven't heard since their last decent conversation
a low chuckle rolling it's growly way out of his chest
purring over tongue to curve partial smile on those lips

"Goooooo' ques'n." damn amused, he is "Dunn' start out tha' way. Three Get, two Walk'r', n me join' up Septemb'r a two thous'n' two back'n Jersey. Deck'r 'n Rune th' firs' Garou I met'n call frien' af'r leavin' New Yor'. 'n Deck'r, me'n Er'k 'r th' las' ones left a th' pack's 'rig'nal memb'rs. Guess th' line up' change 'nuff ov'r th' years a leave it all Germ'n save me, nah. S'a war pack, so't work' out. Fig're they mus' think me worth keepin' roun' f'r s'methin' since I ain't vikin' blood."

insult to his at times less-than-tolerant Fenrir brethren as that may be
(Do you really think anyone else could live with them and keep their sanity???)
Rumor can see the fondness in James' recollection
truly, deeply, the Warrior cares for his pack as something more than Family
especially the ones he's been bonded to the longest

(rumor)
“Considering what?” she looks at him. Second comment tonight she did not understand….
Roxy mentionin shold she get condoms if Rumor came there….and now consoiderin….considering WHAT?

“Kemp thinks im a dumb kid, not to mention, he has something against girls in general I think, unless they are jus boobs pasted on a page…” she chuckles…”but I mean, I don’t care if he knows, he’s gonna end up jus telling me I was bein stupid n it was my fault…..whatever” eyes roll and she shrugs. Kemp. Now that was one kid she just didn’t understand. Every time she thought she did, something came out of his mouth to prove her wrong. liks askin her to come to the factory…after comparing that to having a boxed turtle the night before

his dark eyes pointedly studying a spot on the ceiling
(.... he's not blind, either)

No he may not be blind. But as much as she had that comfortable hang out Frick and Frack like thing with Kemp….(and she did like Kemp)
She had something different here...which was why her eyes kept darting other places then the
Attentive
Uber-hot
Elder BG who seemed actually interested in her well being.

In comparison, it would be like a hormonal pre-teen sitting in a room with Justin Timberlake (BARF) as he nicely, and caringly probed her for information about her life, showed an interest in her well being and tossed away a busy schedule to help her out
Yeah that happens a lot.
not
And she didn’t want to look like a dumbass. Not to mention she had to save some face here, she had already had to pick up her own jaw on a couple occasions and she was finally not blushing each and every time he said something.

“Decker doesn’t like me much…” she replies…”although I don’t see him liking anyone really, expect Imogen, well sometimes, I mean, he comes and goes with her sometimes, but she is like the same way…shes been niceta me when shes bumped into me alone…but in a group….i don’t think ive seen her say a word, just communicatin with the way she looks at people…which believe me…works just fuhhineee” she chuckles a bit.

“but s’all good…I didn’t think Roxy liked me much either till she gave me a job…n Kemp..well who the fuck knows what is goin on in his head…and sometimes im glad I don’t”

Her eyes move to the smokes and the zippo.
blah blah blah you'll get cancer....
Yeah well she was luckyshe wasnt dead already after tonight.
Pulling one out, lighting it, taking a drag, and then coughing....
"smooth" she shakes her head...and controls the coughing fit before hitting it once more. Feeling the calmin effects of nicotine and then tossin back the smokes and lighter to land near his
thigh.
"hate smokin..." she smirks..."but tonights gonna be an exception im thinkin"

(james)
smoke blows out in snorted huff
plume coiling in the meager atmosphere which creates a "living area" between bed and couch
he lets is drift all the way to the ceiling before shrugging again
ridged skin creating ashen scars scuffing on the couch's time-roughened covering
enhanced by the steady sweep of hand which darts out to catch the Zippo
pack bouncing and skidding to settle firmly against the back pillows
dreads act as a pillow for his ceiling- focused muse

"Dunn smoke 'fore a pack'd. Got bored 'roun' Rune one day 'n stole one'a hers a gimme s'm'thin' a do wi' muh han's." pause. quirked grin. not quite at the point of sharing mental image of BG Elder smoking a strippa pink designer cig - aaand switch "You'n Kemp'r pals. S'm'time ya letcher pals in a things... s'm'etime yeh don'. Figger this a matt'r a pri'e 'n dig'n'y wheth'r you tellim what happ'n to yeh."

the power's in her hands, again
funny that, this big ol' Garou allowing her to make decisions twice, now, in one night

"Deck'r dunn like mos' people, save Im'gen.... f'r some reas'n he tol'rate' me. Same wi' th' good doc. Kemp..... he's been through s'me ser'ous shit, still growin' up a figger's own head ou' an'way." Just like you. "Give'm time. Dunno Roxy tha' well....." words drift in acknowledgement of realization, he's never hung out with the chick a lot, only once... really.... "but she c'n fix th' hell out've a cah."

"You g'nna take 'er off'r?"

brow lifts
that's a mightily loaded and layered question
he'll see where she takes it

(rumor)
Mighty loaded and layered question. Layered like an onion.(stunk too)
Another hit on the smoke, only one cough this time…and she more holds the cigarette and watches the smoke slowly swirl in little trails up into the air.

Second mention of someone named Rune, pack, obviously since she wasn’t mentioned in the current roster, she must be dead. Assumin that cause it seemed the way he talked bout pack…they al stuck together, till death.

the power's in her hands, again
funny that, this big ol' Garou allowing her to make decisions twice, now, in one night

Now a pause and she chews absently on the inside of her cheek for the moment….before speakin…”doesn’t matter to me if ya tell him, I mean in termsa pride” she shrugs.. “I got my pride n stuff, but tonight, this wasssnt a matter of pride, just some bad luck….wipin out on my board n spilling slurpee all over….that was a matter of pride. That was busted up my pride pretty good. Fallin in front of everyone…” she chuckles….

Watching the smoke as it rises up to the ceiling and diappears…

She lets out another sigh…her head hurt a bit…from everything…the night, the talk, perhaps even the cigarette….
gonna take her offer?
oh yeah. The layered question…

“hell yeah.” No layers here. “Always tinkered with cars, n cant even legally drive em yet…but shit its better then cleanin up peoples half eaten food at some diner, where I haveta have normal hair and watch a dirty ol man ogle me as if I was on the menu” she chuckles….”That what you meant?....bout the job?” she grins.

(james)
there's another bout of softly rolling thunder from the Garou
residual purr tumbling out of his chest in amusement

"Sorta like outin' s'm'ne, I guess." rough skin drags again when shoulders heave in shrug "Dunn' wanna share s'm'thin' so pers'nal a tha'..... diff'r'n' sorta fall, 'guess..... but also dunn wanna keep th' reas'n we're huntin' 'r gettin' hurt fromma packma'e. 'spesh'lly when it happ'n a one've 'is pal'." then a nod "In par'."

abs flex and contract beneath slim covering of faded cotton
hauling his weight up from leisurely (deceeeptive) sprawl on the couch
dreads flipflopping across his shoulders with gaze darting about
finally accepting he'll have to get UP to find an ashtray
empty coffee can plucked from questionable cabinet sufficing
legs cross and BDU pockets hit the floorboards before the bed
shoulders pinning threadbare comforter against battered mattress
curve of steely bicep little more than inches from her own leg
he's looking back at the couch, at the pillows just now recovering from his reclination
empty can clatters on the notched boards where her feet would be if she let them dangle a little further
all of that must've been simply to put the 'can within her flicking reach

"Where ya thinkin' a crashin'?"

(rumor)
“Ya dont gotta hunt em....i mean--"

(he already told her his view on that...his den, violated as well..he said he was huntin them...)she could drop the --you dont haveta help me damsal in distress thing-- and just accept he was there for her, he said so, no more questioning it.....

"If yer huntin them, I mean you can tell yer pack whatever ya want…but I mean, I didn’t get…you know....” she sighs..”I mean they fucked with my brain, n my head, they didn’t fuck with…...me” Defending herself a bit. Pride, yeah. Maybe she didn’t see it as pride, but it was certainly there. Pride. Stupid fuckers drugged her (wrong place at the wrong time) and just humiliated her in the process of getting the fuck outa there…

abs flex and contract beneath slim covering of faded cotton
She notices it…as a matter of fact she watches intently. (eye candy never hurt anyone)
He gets up….her heart
Stops.
And the can, placed for an ashtray…..phew got it…ok now, breathe.

She nods and tosses the rest of the smoke in it, she was through with it after the 3 hits anyways…now it had been a longer ash then it was a cigarette…and any moment it would have toppled to the ground anyways.

"Where ya thinkin' a crashin'?"

She shrugs…finding her voice once more…”dunno…they were gonna ask ya bout the factory, but I don’t wanna piss anyone off, or intrude n stuff…I mean…I dunno…Kemps mattress was a nice offer…but I would settle for the couch even…or shit, the floor, I mean a roof is a roof….”

And she shrugs once more….”Jus don’t wanna be in the way is all”

(james)
post flick-of-smoke-into-can, James lets his left arm stretch a bit
rough knuckles sliding against her knee as smoke snakes wayward
using contact as a last resort to get her to stop for a moment
even if the touch doesn't even last that long
lazy trails of nicoteine fog follow the absent gestures of his hand

"See wh't I mean?" brow gently rises towards frame of dreads, facilitating the question, drawing enough attention to it so that she at least relates to why he's tenderfooting around the whole sharing of information subject.... he understands she's been humiliated in a number of ways, and the Elder BG's version of protection goes far beyond simple physical brute force. "Ain' easy a deal wi'h. Kemp'd be hur' if I lef' 'im outta this bit, 'r foun' out I was dishones' with'm 'bout s'm'ne he care' for, but I won' risk you 'nymore, eith'r. Make sense?"

James knows all it would take to recruit the Modi is a reason
he probably wouldn't have time to divulge the facts, anyway
but the young Rotagar is an entirely different story
.... especially considering how chummy he and the kin are
(James was 15 once, too, y'know)

"Fact'ry'll work f'r a bit.... but nah long term 'less Er'k approve' it. Ain' pers'n'l... " glance of deep umber timed with borderline cavalier and lopsided grin ".... us dawgs jus' need'r space, too."

the chide was true enough, but also worked as a covering move
the more people that know about and hang around the factory...
... the sooner Erik's gonna have him househunting again
special case or no, James isn't going to risk repeating past mistakes which may endanger the pack
(gotta keep moving fast enough so the flies don't catch up to ya...)

(rumor)
And she goes to answer him. In her mind the words that would have come out, should have been.
’nothin personal taken…don’t worry about riskin me in terms of telling anyone what happened..i got thick skin yannow…I mean its ok…and really I don’t need to stay at the factory….its what I told Kemp, actually Maybe Roxy will let me crash at the garage…I could easily watch her garage at night n stuff”

However as he asks if she can relate to what he means…as he (with concern) explains…knuckles brush against her knee.

Knuckles…brush her knee.
time stands still Even if the touch was only for a second. Yup. She could hang with Kemp. She kinda even liked Kemp…which everyone else seemed to think was obvious…except her, who didn’t hadn’t even truly admitted that to herself yet.

But James, James was different. Not only Older, Wiser, same family, but he was…he was…eh was right-there—brushing against her leg…the contact was innocent. Obviously…nothing but a friendly gesture. However she couldn’t help but swoon inside as If she was at some concert and the singer touched her hand from the stage….

With all her jumbled thoughts and then the unexpected contact…..her words come out slightly different then she had planned them in her mind.

“Personal? Don’t worry thick skin roxy the garage I can stay there save Kemps sanity”

Oh yeah, there ya go, that sounded intelligent. Nothing like words that don’t even go together to make a sentence….

(james)
"Commooooon...." there's that sound again, the deep, wholly natural laughter that stems from somewhere deep in the Ahroun's muscular torso and draws with it the very clarity protected by his soul on it's journey from inhale to rolling sound "... Tris'd be delight'd a have s'm'ne else 'round a nag a Kem'."

now either the Fostern filled in the blanks to make jumbled words intelligent phrase
or he's been hanging around the Eagles long enough that short-hand simply made sense as is
or, for the better part, he completely ignored the tumbling avalanche and plucked out what words he wished to respond to
either way, he's looking at where calloused (....dirty, too, it seems.... what happened to that shower, Jamey-boy?) fingers are crushing Camel in the bottom of the can
lopsided grin lurking in shadowed features testament to his amusement at someone else mothering the Rotagar
pointedly missing any evidence of her reactionary swoon

"Sides...." brow lifts over a glance "Af'r a bit work'n' f'r Roxy, I c'n prolly help y'fine a pad a y'r own."

(rumor)
Find a pad of her own at 15...damn talk about cool ass livin situation...a 15 year old girl with a place of her own...a place of her own...hella yes!
That seemingly taking her from jumbled words to forgetting he was right there and she is alas on to another subject now..

"Bitchin...that would fuckin rock...can play the stereo all loud...well assumin i work hard make money and get me a stereo..." rambling on and on now..."then again, wouldnt haveta be a big place, i dont got much shit...oh wait, but if im workin for Roxy and makin money...i coudl get shit...lots of cool shit...even another board"

She smiles and nods..."i'll stay outta the way anyways...im good for that..yannow out of sight, outta mind n shit"

(james)
this time, when knuckles hit the padding of his sweats on her skin, they're a skimming blow
more of a friendly type of jab than a motion to still her track-skipping attention

"Hey.... jus' cause you get'cher own place dunn mean you c'n 'mmedia'ely work a gettin' kick' out."

then, once more, the Gnawer Elder softly laughs
skimming knuckles unfolding to grandly waving hand
street showman is he, after all

"Y'r a Gnaw'r..... course you c'n stay outta sigh' 'n outta mine. We're bred f'r it!" as easily as the jest appears, it fades away "You thinkin' a hittin' th' clinic now'r lat'r?" ... if at all "Sorta dicta'e what I do nex'...."

hands are held out in display
arms smeared with dust and moisture glued grime
stains marring the inky pattern iridescently covering right inner forarm
dirt's worked into the thick callouses of his hands, clinging to the hair on his arms
there's evidence of accidental lacertaion's bloody tears, but those meager wounds are long healed
even she, with the olfaction of a mere kin, can smell the residuals of this week's job on him

(sweat, smoke, grain, dirt, grime, exhaust, metal, wood... interlaced with strangely sharp scents of farmed produce and animal musk)

James. Seriously. Needs a shower.

but he's willing to forsake hygeine if she wants to seek help
they both know the sooner the better, before any bathroom stops of any kind of her own
if she chooses sleep he has a little more time to work with
once more - so oddly - the ball's in her court

(rumor)
"woulnt know that we were bread for it...remember, i dont know much bout the whole thing...butmore n more i hear, more n more i know that it wasnt only a Rumor bout my dad bein gnawer.." she chucklles...."yeah....im thinkin a shower is a good idea for you" she chuckles and jabs back. Seems as quickly as she had become smitten, she was back to being normal. movin on with the excitement of the new place....whenever it happened...it was something to look forward to...
"Yeah..forgot boutthe gettin kicked out part.." she snaps her fingers and smirks...
"Howbout I go up to that clinic up the road a bit.." Eyes slowly move and linger a bit...now her voice lowerin..."i mean they take street kids fer free...n you know...im ok...i jus gotta find out...."
voice trails...
"well...youknow, what i already know anyways....just making sure"
Perhaps the gnawer kin was a little too embarrased to take James with her to the clinic to see if she had been fucked any which way and how.
Sure he was helpin, sure he was really bein cool...but this, this she would rather do alone..."Wont take long, and i can come right back here anyways after" saying with the sound of hope in each word. and she had a feeling he'd catch on quickly One thing he was...alert. He seemed to catch on to things without people needing to speak what they were trying to say....
She gets up, still in his clothes, which are very baggy on her (which actually was the style in some places.) Hands go into sweatpant pockets... "Thanks n all...but ill go do this,just for my own frame of mind n shit....n ill come back here"

(james)
"Ya think?"

showman that he may be - James does not perform one exaggerrated sniff of any part of his anatomy
he's surprised that the floorboards haven't started steaming, or the wallpaper peeling
when you're the embodiment of Nature's ultimate warrior nightmare
sometimes the easiest jobs to get are the ones that involve physical labor
no worries about your Rage blowing some office politic
much easier to sling bags of feed around a warehouse for a few bucks an hour

instead, he's watching her very carefully through the proposal

it's obvious he doesn't want to let her out of his sight
but, it's also obvious on some deeper level he understands the intricacies of her feelings
(think he'd be any more comfortable under constant obvservation and accusation out in the waiting room?)
he truly wants her to go and get checked out for every feasable reason
and if she's willing, he'll agree to her terms even if there's still an edge of reluctanct in his slooow nod

"Ah-igh'." the lanky Ahroun draws up to stand "Make a deal wi'ya."

out of his pockets come several things:

1 crumbled handful of bills totalling somewhere around $70, most likely his entire freshly cashed paycheck
1 pair of brass knuckles, sized for his fist but good enough in a crunch and better than a roll of quarters
1 fully charged cell phone, into which he's programming the room's phone number after a call to Mauricio

"Dona'e if they dunn make ya pay, 'r keep it f'r later a buy a new board'r whatev'r yeh wan'.... jus' save 'nuff f'r dinn'r." then no explanation on the brass knuckles, figuring she knows well enough how to use them and to run like hell after, phone's held out with his thumb over the first button in sample "Hol' down th' one a spee'dial here... f'r any reas'n, 'n I'll come runnin'."

if you get lost
if you get into trouble
if John's Burgers is closed and you have to improvise
if you find something out and can't make the walk home
old rotary in the room jangles rudely before he's clicking the button for silence

"Wanna bring s'me John's Burg'r's back 'r mee' me there af'r y'r done?"

her call, yet again, answer awaited with arched brow
(I trust you enough to let you do this on your own.)

(rumor)
Ya think? She nods....and grins...."definately"

She could sense he didnt want her roaming the streets tonight...hell she didnt really wanna be, but sometimes there was shit ya had to do...and this was one of these times...
Making deals? Sicne when do the elder make deals with the kin? Was like he was treatin her like an equal. There would be no complaints, but her brow quirks up slightly with his words.. make a deal..
She nods...."allright...i pick whats behind door number 2?" she chuckles

out of his pockets come several things:
.....the money. Reluctantly she glances at it and pauses before taking it. (there was a line between stupid stubornness/pride, and acceptance of help)
....brass knuckles. She knew what they were for. bitchin' lips turns up a bit into a smirk.. yeah...come fuckin with me again...you can meet mr brass....heh. Back to his pocket emptying...
.....phone. phone? shed never had a cell phone. She looks it over for a second...after he programs the number in...Cell phone. Ok...

f'r any reas'n, 'n I'll come runnin'
For the first time since shes been round them all she actually feels that tightness in her chest. That intese rush of emotion she wasnt used to, eyes burning, but she quickly checks her self and its gone. almost lost it there n cried pussy
Still something feels like its lodged in her throat and she has to clear her throat and glance around the room for a minute beofre returning her gaze to his...

She nods..."sure thing, after bein probed and pryed and gettin the third degree about how fucked up a story this all is, im sure burgers will be a perfect plan" she smirks..."funny thing is, fer once i get to go into a clinic, tell the complete truth, and have it be stranger then fiction...." head shaking as she shoves the stuff into her pockets. Damn fuckin Freaks stole her fannypack. a packrats dream
"I'll be back in a flash....or well..as fast as i can..."
another pause before she looks up at him. This time finally dead square in the eyes. (pause)
"Thanks"

(james)
the Elder is treating a teenaged kin as an equal
giving her what supplies he can before going out into the streets by herself
(war boils down to definition and cause...)
though he can't help but laugh seeing her open surprise at the phone
dreads swing as James' head ducks, shoulders rolling in a shrug

"Rune fel' I needed ih." that smile may even be positively sheepish, as beyond send, receive, and program.... the Gnawer's more confused by the little phone than anything "Piss'r off she nev'r cou' figger out th' Barkin' Chain. Force me a carry thi' stupi' thing....."

well of course not
Rune was a Glass Walker and only Gnawers understand the Chain
but Rumor doesn't know that yet
only that the twenty-three year old Ahroun seems almost shyly, playfully childish at the admission
he can obliterate the Wyrm, but a little Nokia can bitchslap him right back into his guttermutt place

"I'll be ready 'fore you ev'n ge' ther'.... but take y'r time."

then she finally looks him dead square in the eyes
deep umber, the color of Gaia's blessedly moist soil
evenly holding her gaze of crystaline, sky-kissed blue
chin lifts up, just a bit, in a nod which imparts the beginnings of a smile
(....that's respect, there, not calling her over or just saying hello....)
and there's a moment of silence

"Alway'."

not you're welcome
not it's no problem
not even it's cool, hurry back and be freakin' careful!

just... Always.

Posted by james at 12:00 AM

May 21, 2004

.05.21.04. - ain't safe here 'nymore [rumor] *fng

[downtown]

(james)
the clock's ticking past 3am when the foyer door swings open
grand as that may sound, the lobby of this old building isn't anything to marvel at
the furniture looks as if perhaps it was a part of the original decor
purchased somewhere in the first quarter of the last century
what were once grandly patterened rugs are now little more than threadbare shadows
dust covers the wooden counters that forgot their deep laquered shine decades ago
notches cover the desk behind which a non-descript man of Italian descent thumbs through a newspaper

you can rent the rooms here by the hour, day, or week
a step up from the Motel 6 James last used as a getaway spot
this Hotel NoTell that's nothing more than a shadow of its architectually designed glory
but it serves purpose enough as a safehouse for times of need
regulars are a reasonable crowd, content to keep to themselves other than passing's polite nod
the nights are quiet aside from the occasional argument, gunshot, or answering siren
and the weekly cost practically nothing because barter's still an acceptable economy

a hand raises absent wave to Mauricio when the raggedyman passes by
metal grate barring the elevator breaking early morning's deserted silence
hinges protesting overdue maintenance as he drops them back down so doors close
(gotta add that to the list of chores Mr. Murphy gave me...)
thumb hitting the button which sends the car towards the top floor

twenty years ago the penthouse suite was something to brag about
each room on the seventh floor generously finished for the patron elite
financial struggles since have effectively changed that

some of the rooms are abandoned and empty
others compartmentalized in dreams of having more space to rent
rambling habitats condensed to a collection of perhaps two or three connective spaces with minimal furnishing
little more than a one-room apartment dressed up with 50% chance promise of a balcony
the Gnawer, luckily, bargained his way into one such room

but he's not thinking of parking it on the balcony to watch post-midnight cityscape as key hits lock and tumblers turn
he's thinking about a hot shower to wash away the sweat and grime reward of graveyard stockboy shift

(rumor)
the clock's ticking past 3am and she is asleep. Asleep at 3 am. Odd...In fact, too odd. Something didnt seem right about the way she was sleeping either...
First of all, the prankster ragamuffin would have instantly awoken to the sound of the silence broken by the elevator. light sleeper, always
Second of all, The way she was laying there, on the bed. Displayed onthe bed in a sports bra and black panties that had a picture of Sid and Nancy on the front. Sid grciously gicing any on-looker the middle finger. On her back. Scabs on her kness and elbows almost completely gone. Her clothing, nowhere to be found. There is nothing out of place, nothing broken, and nothing that seemed to show any sign of a struggle. maybe she just slept on top of the covers like that
But something wasnt right. Her breathing so shallow...Where were the overalls? The obnoxious t-shirt? Why when she laid there so soundly, did it seem like she wasnt sleeping soundly at all. eerie

The door, closed, but not locked. That had to be strange. She would have locked the door. She was not dumb. Certainly not irresponsible. That wasnt her way at all.
The TV was on, and loud. did it drown out the story that had been told hours before?
Some buff man was trying to sell his piece of work-out equipment. Infomercial. Crap...

(james)
the door swings open with, unexpectedly, no sound
that's the first thing that gets James' undivided attention
(didn't he tell her to lock the door....? she's smarter than that.....isn't she?)
the second inspires a frown at just how loud the television is
(luckily the seventh floor is mostly unoccupied save himself, and Mr. Murphy at the far end... )
he knows you have to turn it up to get the sound reasonably clear carrying from living into bedroom
and the set's an old piece of shit, anyway

but this is a little much....

shadows flickering across the wall in cadene with picture change on the screen silhouette what's next
his own cast growing larger with each step that snaps his body into Glabro
Corcoran's thumping floorboards beneath desperately random throwrugs
announcing the..... less than casual advance towards the inner domicile
lungs filling as lips part to taste the scents in the air

nothing out of place. nothing broken. no sign of a struggle.....

but the a/c unit in the window is struggling at full blast, rattling the wrench sitting on top
throwing fabric softener scents from the four fluffy towels resting on a chair at his animal senses
and beyond it, lingering musk of human male sweat and a woman's cheap perfume
(.... that doesn't belong....)
adrenaline pumps..... pulse rising..... even before he gets to the bedroom door

"RUM'R!"

televison CRASHES onto the floor
swiped from it's little rolling table with a claw-tipped hand
he's not wasting time fumbling for a button or searching for the controller's mute
barkedsnarl of her name shotgun blast in the sudden silence

(rumor)
the door swings open with, unexpectedly, no sound
(didn't he tell her to lock the door....? she's smarter than that.....isn't she?)
Fuck yeah she was smarter than that.
It's fucking cold...air conditioning is on...fucking cold.
"RUM'R!"
That alone startles her into awakening. Eyes try to open... almost in slow motion.
where the hell am i....what the fuck? Her memory impaired, drowsy..blink blink its fuzzy..., dizziness, confusion...outright confusion as cobalt blue eyes blin kaway and she tries to springup. No springing here. No in fact it was like she had cinderblocks attached to her shoudlers...
Rolling to one side...to at least see the cause of the disturbance. Things were so fucking blurry.
And if you dont want that flabby stomache, you can have abs of steel in only 4 weeks! The television barks.

She sees him. (who....wait....who is that....Holy shit what is that (BIG ASS GUY) oh it's James...what is James doing....was James that big?) brain takes too much time to process something so simple, and then---
televison CRASHES onto the floor ---
she can feel the rage, she wants to move..she is having a hard time making her brain work with her body
Inturrupting her molassas like thoughts.

Huh? Moving up to sit, looking down at herself. The embarrasment not apparant, cause she is still trying to figure out what the fuck is going on...
or is it a dream?
"Dude..whfuck youbreakn th--" her words just couldnt come out right. What the fuck? So she goes quiet...pulling up a corner of the blanket to cover part of her mostly naked-goosebump covered- body.
Looking around once more, startled ...even spooked...but seemingly just

confused.

(james)
she comes to like molasses
he, on the other hand, is working at Warp 3
(The engines canna hold out much longah, Cap'n!)
she's given but the quickest glance as he storms by
bathroom door seeming to recoil in terror before his hand's able to shove it open
growl echoing off the tiled or paint peeling walls as he finds it empty
(.... is that a good or bad thing?)
appearing once more in the doorway a moment later

luckily, she's burrito'd up in the thin comforter by then, so her embarrassment may be minimal

fear, confusion, spookedness?
that's another matter altogether
the dreadlocked monster's Rage is washing out shockwave
gears getting a bit stuck as they switch over from panic to concern to wrath to a bit of his own confusion
pacing around the small collection of rooms
(predator's prowling search)

front door slams closed on one circuit
locks thrown closed after affirming the place is empty but for he and the groggy kin

"The hell happ'n?"

beyond gutteral words worked out past the sharpened eyeteeth in his mouth
behind the ropey curtain of dreads hanging before animal's glittering eyes
..... there's the undertone of frightened stress tightly controlled by the Ahroun

(rumor)
It isnt the burrito of the comforter masking the embarassment she should have had, its the fact her brainisnt quite putting things together...in fact, she felt like nothing was connecting...Where was Kemp and the bike...wait, she wasnt outside..that was a couple days ago...she was in a -----motel room it seemed.
hes moving at mach speed She is just getting her bearings.
Slowly...now shaking her head a bit to get her eyes to focus dammit.

the dreadlocked monster's Rage is washing out shockwave..
Rage Now even the most disoriented person could feel that rage in the room...
What the fuckkkk
Ok...she could see better now...now if she could just bark out what she was thinking...
"whatthe hell is upwith you...fuck..what are you freaking out about...dude...my fucking head is killing me." Her voice is softer then normal...and slower...But she was coming out of whatever it was she was
in

SLAM the door.....
"yeah that helped thanks" she mutters as she gets up. Looking down at her in a sports bra and underwear..she looks for her clothes...
::blinks::
What the fuck? Grabbing the comforter and making it a wrap-around (no not a toga - this was no toga party) Where the FUCK wereher clothes?

("The hell happ'n?" )
"How the fuck do i know?" she looks at him....pausing.. Eyes to the towels, then the airconditioning unit...fucking cold
"Whatthe fuck is going on?"

(james)
blocked by the angle of his location in relation to the door of the dinky bedroom
she can only hear the deep-chested growl of his frustration
(swallow it down, Jamey-boy, get a hold of yourself....)
sharp staccato of bootsteps eventually slowing
by the time he's outlined in door's open frame - the Gnawer is more man than beast
fingers raking through dreads in attempt to calm
holding back the initial retort about to snap past his lips
(YOU were here! Weren't you??)

"Sorry." apology for the door slammed without anything else to take the stress out on "Look..."

he's by the bedroom window, flicking off the overworked a/c
turning to throw weight against the wall
keeping his distance until electric tide ebbs

"I foun' th' door unlock', tv blarin', scents a two oth'r people 'n four new towel' in here a dunn' belong..." tension rises, she can hear it in his voice, this protective streak, even if his eyes have closed to quell primal blaze "..... air a full blas, 'n you like...."

it drifts off, absent gesture bringing attention to her near-nakedness
as much to save her grace as give him the excuse to not exactly mention it
deep sigh flows in meditative effort at centering
and when his eyes open to look at her for this last part
his voice is considerably softer, lower, careful

"Y'allrigh'?"

(rumor)
That growl just added to the strange sickness already brewing in her stomache. (uh oh i may vomit)
And he comes stalking towards her.... the Gnawer is more man than beast

She watches the manbeast with the airconditioner...his movements like she was watching something on TV..not quite real....Nothing was quite real...nothing at all...Even his voice seemed like it was miles away...and she knew he was talking to her but...wait
what was he saying....
towels..airconditioning...and her..like.."
mostly naked
Where were her clothes?

Y'allrigh'?
"do i look allright?" almost barked, butmore freaked then angry..."where the fuck are my clothes?"...another pause....and slowly emmories flash a bit....
"When i came in...some dude was in here...fucking with the airconditioning unit...." she looks towards it...slowly gathering thoughts..."and i was confused...but what the fuck was I...." she thinks...
"i was gonna take a shower...and he called housekeeping...for towels...but he used...he used some fucking phone..like a nextel walkie talkie thing...i guess i thought that was normal"
another pause. think...
"She came..." eyes glance to look for something..."fucking waters gone...did they drop something in..." another pause....she thinks.."where the fuck are my clothes ...what kind of sick fuck...i mean (had she been violated more then just a prank of some sort?) "
Silent now...as she tries to remember. Then a defense.
"I didnt have time to lock shit....i came in he was here...the rests fucking blurry right now"

(james)
she barks a reply
and no matter how much freak he can hear in raised words
it still gets a reaction from him
whipsnap bristle of the hairs along the back of his neck
muscle beneath t-shirt clinging to shoulders tightening
his head pulls off the wall, deep umber glittering, breath drawn, mouth forming words that.... don't come

gaze drops away to the floor
breath coiling out in sigh
TRYING to remain calm as she explains

and it's something of a losing battle

"This look like a place't's got maid s'rvice 'r a house call handyma'?" instantly regretted as it came out sharper than he intended, even if it's carefully controlled and far smoother than before - he's an animal at heart, and angry... the question being if she can tell that he's more angry with himself than anything, because he said this was a safe place, because he didn't walk her up in effort to make it to work on time "... n' what I meant w's...."

pause. collect. calm.

"I know y'r not okay...... I jus'....." this time he's the one that's stumbling around for words, gaze up, then darts away... suck it up, Jamey-boy: "I dunna how else a ask if y'r hurtin' 'n wanna go down a th' ER f'r a kit."

(rumor)
and it's something of a losing battle
Losing battle it was..and the bark was directed in general, certainly not AT him...her own confusion frustrating her more and more...
"Course it doesnt....i didnt call for a handyman...he was already in here...and i was going to take a shower...doesnt mean i called for room service....it allhappened so fast..i had a glass of water...over there, i was sipping it...who knows...i mean...."
another pause...she didnt remember parts...blackout and she didnt do drugs...she didnt drink...

and now she couldnt help but wonder what the fuck went wrong..what did she do? Was it someone who was plotting soemthing before she got there...and then she got there before the guy had time to leave?

What the hell did she know....watching him, his rage the anger
She shrugs..."cant tell you anything more...somethings fucked up, where the hell are my clothes."
a sickness filling her stomache as her mind fills with what could be....

pause. collect. calm.
Yeah maybe he could be calm--or try to be--she was getting more freaked by the second.

"Imnot goin to the ER...im ....no im fine..i mean, i dont know what the fuck...i " stammering back. And quickly for no reason whatsoever she is looking at James, as he tries to make sense of it all, and she sees Kemp. He's make her laugh...Shaking her head.
Not even sure why pimpleass's face came into her mind..
"Look doya got some clothes here? Maybe t-shirt, sweatpants...I dont think you want Sid flipping you off all night"
a bad attempt at making light of a -possibly- serious situation

(james)
he was watching her grasp for reason in the mental fog
which means she has no interference discerning his expression
for some reason - she will see Kemp
but beyond the imaginary mask, highlighted by the ghostly sheen of tv's floorlight static strobe
something she may not be able to find beyond it's flux on still-crackling Rage
there's an aching sorrow in the Gnawer

that it happened
that she realizes what could have been by his choice of words
that he didn't warn her to run if something wasn't as he expected
that he wasn't here to protect her

"Won' force yeh t'go, though I'd pay f'r it if y' did." pause. uncomfortable. anguished. "Though dun smell nuthin' li'e tha'...."

maybe she'll find it in the fact he cannot meet her gaze
city's top dawg Elder Ahroun dropping his eyes away from mere kin
her bad attempt at humor isn't enough to get even a twitch of appreciative smile
just a sigh - regret - because he simply doesn't know how to deal with this
it's not a brutal Spiral carnage or some dark creature's infiltration - that's where his experience lies
a teenaged girl possibly hurt in ways he doesn't want to mention is completely out of his league

"Yeh." skull lifts in half-gesture towards the battered chest of drawers hiding in a corner "S'me clean stuff'n there."

(rumor)
How things do change....
Things change so quick...As mentally James seems to be blaming and thinking and trying to make things better...Rumor seems to be doing whatshe does best. The blurriness leaving..it had been a while now..or so it seemed. Waling to where he pointed...Dragging the -probably nasty- comforter along the floor with her...Wrapped in it...
No words. Minutes that seem like hours. silence
The battered chest opens.
He was offering to pay, to help She didnt need to go to the ER, but he was offerin to help...
Why?
Why not. For whatever reason he was, and for once she didnt see it as pity or charity...it seemed genuine. But those feelings of fear and confusion were now travelling around the labrynth, past the wall and into a place no one ventured.
No one.
EVER.
Quickly slipping on a sweatshirt and sweatpants...and dropping the comforter to the floor..Her dizziness subsiding..
---------and like that-------------Rumor is back. (a gift she had - how to completely drop the shitty stuff)
"Hey..."she walks back towards him..."Psycho handimen...im supposin i could make some cash off the Enquirer story....maybe throw some aliens in...and something about the mother ship or something"
Now standing behind him...It's like nothing has happend. Nothing at all. How quickly she could change that. A new mask for a new time.
(Still slightly foggy, but ok)
"Well gee, im thinking im cut off for the night...i am not allowed more then 2 waters a night....look what happens...i end up naked on a bed and droolin all over that classy comforter"
Force a smile.
-pause...silence-
can you see through that mask?
And 5 words, so REAL. "Thanks James...I mean it"

he tries so hard to hold the smile her jest inspires

"I'll get us 'nother room f'r th' nigh'... " oh, and how much this pains - shames - him to admit "....ain't safe here 'nymore......"

(rumor)
more silence passes slow-motion between them
(Welc'me.)

her feelings were true, it was not pity, charity or even abstract obligation which backed his offers, his concern genuine And this she knew. Could she sent the guilt he was feeling.
[False guilt] No...instead she was feeling responsible for becoming the burden.
Way to go Rumor..someone wants to help, you find a way to end up naked and drooling with no recolections.
Now he has to move.
Now his 'safe house' wasnt safe
Now he looked at her like...well like he had been given babysitting job. And she was not pack, she was however family...of sorts.
"Ya dont haveta find out whos responsible..really...it looks like all is in tact, and well, maybe it was someone with an overall fetish, cause they just took my clothes." and mypride
Cobalt blue eyes that still hold the fear and pain, but wont let it out, no not at all...look at him, AT him, for maybe the first time since they had met. Prior, she couldnt lok at him for she would blush...now...she does look at him.
As his eyes are supposed to be saying....
Do you believe I can protect you? Do you trust I will do whatever it takes to make this right? Do you even feel safe around me anymore?
She reads it different....and offers her own look back...
im a pain in the ass, i know, thanks for not just leaving me here, thanks for at least putting up with this shit...never had many who gave a crap..who i can trust...sorry i let you down, i should have realized it first..mayeb i shouldnt drink tap water...or at least watch my drink...im sorry i fucked up your safe place....
She cannot read his eyes at all...in fact her eyes speak back.
"I'll get us 'nother room f'r th' nigh'... " oh, and how much this pains him to admit "....ain't safe here 'nymore......"
A nod and Her hand moves out and takes his arm...stopping him from exiting yet,. Not forcefully, just a light grab....
"Im sorry it isnt safe here anymore...i didnt mean to fuck shit up for you....thanks for giving me another chance...i just...i just didnt know...still dont know.." The next part comes out of her lips, but she really thought she was just thinking it...hearing her own words, and surprised they were audible. "Im freaked a bit, if ya dont mind...i will go with ya..i mean, i dont know if they were after me, or anyone, but if they did come back...id feel better knowing you were there..." yes folks that was SAID...and she feels silly
(what could i have done differently???) releasing his arm..again the grasp just to get him not to walk out, it wasnt restraining. Fingers on fleash. Hands cold....15 and she doesnt even know...if the worst thing could have happened...She wont think about it...not now.
She offers onemore shot at making him at least smirk. "Sorry you had to be flipped off by Sid Viscious"

[pause... ish]

Posted by james at 12:00 AM

May 20, 2004

.05.20.04. - treasures [ratchet]

[southside]

(ratchet)
(clickclickclickclickclick)

sound blooms constant, between grunts of little figure flipping the lid to yet another dumpster up and over. plastic crashes against metal, gaunt frame falls to crouch, head canted, listening. When no one seems to follow, no lurchy stepping guy following to belch up more monster centipedes to try and sting her tail, there’s a nod. sharp.

animalistic.

grubby fingers – no longer filthy due to forced bath, but getting grimier by the minute – grasp edge of dumpster, smooth pull and jump sends nimble form into the disgusting mess of things inside metal behemoth. A low hum sounds in counterpart to occasional click as nimble finger poke through contents, searching for anything of value. Another mans trash, the little rat’s treasure.

(james)
another man's trash, the little rat's treasure
the little rat's treasure, another man's intrigue

it's not that James saw the skinny creature or formed the notion of deliberate follow
more appropriately, he... thinks.... recognized the sound of constant clicks traveling along the airwaves
sound effects riding Chicago's seemingly never-ending winds
(Windy City, after all, Jamey-boy)
carrying the ticking pattern out of the alleyway and to the Ahroun's ears

that prior crash of the dumpster lid did do a little something to help pinpoint location

one thing the Fostern doesn't do is enter the alleyway at hand
instead, a shoulder leans curve of muscle against grimey brick
dully shined boots arrange themselves to cross legs at the ankle
raggedyman becoming the very portrait of casual curiosity at the sidestreet's mouth
aimless dig of fingers into pocket on habitual search for cigarette pack
dread tips playing absently over t-shirt's cling and stretch over frame
dark eyes are peering down into the trash-filled shadows

waiting

(ratchet)
soft the click that continues, absent, as fingers poke and prod before there’s a low rumbling sound, a hum of appreciation, click stopping all together as fingers examine the prize found. head cants, slight, examining the piece and parts of what once was a coocko clock, before it’s cradled close to skinny chest, other hand grasping the edge of dumpster and with a flare of coat of many pockets, flurry of movement sees the little one crouched on filthy alley floor once more.

the coat settles around her, pockets filled here and there with conglomeration of items, things of no importance to anyone but the looter. dark eyes look up, knit had pulled low over ears, nostrils flare. (sniff. sniffsniff) until the raggedy man is seen.

frozen.
(clickclickclickclickclick)

After a moment, however, recognition sets in, and she gathers the treasure close to chest, stands, and skittering through shadows near the wall, quick steps bring hunched form close, only to settle into crouch near James, and set treasure on the ground, where fingers seem to work of their own accord. “hi, elderman.” the soft acknowledgement.

(imogen)
Chicago is, apparently, a city that is considered for its tourist capacity. It has Chinatown, with its lovely ethnicity. It has Grant Park, though some parts are darker than others. But maybe, if a tourist kept to the beaten path, did not miscalculate or mistype, Chicago could be an interesting, if intensely urban, place to visit. It has a charm in its big city size, if you ignore the underbelly that shudders beneath, working away at it all.

Difficult to see it that way, from this end of the city. Public housing, factories, gangs. Dead bodies, blood smeared against a wall. The police here are perhaps a little more diligent than in Jersey. Someone walks her to her car, across the street (...coincidences are shocking, sometimes) and a building or two away from James. The officer casts a baleful glance toward the tall man's back before shrugging slightly...

(A little more diligent. It didn't mean much)

... before turning and starting to walk away, waving carelessly over his shoulder, meaty hand lazy in the wind.

The redhead watches him go as she divests herself of badge and security pass, pocketing them, her gaze flicked toward the familiar back. And maybe as she tilts her head she can hear the clicking, too.

(james)
she leaps out of the dumpster in a move that'd make Zorro proud
she clutches priceless prize close to skinny chest
she freezes..... and James doesn't do a thing
aside from the wind's play through ropey hair
and the rhythmic heave of breath-drawing chest
nothing moves save the track of deep umber eyes
following as she moves towards him at her own speed

"Hiya Ratch'." the escort across the way suspects the raggedyman of being nothing more than another anonymous derelict slumming on the most convenient corner in wait for the night's most convenient crime - the soft, almost warm tones of his greeting define something that's anything but "Wha'cha fine?"

brow lifts towards dreadlock frame
it's only curious interest in his gaze
not possessive greed

(ratchet)
the very fact that he remains as he is was the deciding factor of her moving closer. Steven says elderman good, and gut feeling is rarely wrong in her experience too. combined, makes skinny form crouched, as usual, but not completely hiding this time.

fingers slide over the clock, testing moving parts. brow creases in thought, ragged nails lifting to scratch at shoulder, neck, back of hand scrubbing under chin before quick making sure hat covers ears. bracelet looped twice over skinny wrist dangles ratchet bits as charms, and without looking one is plucked free, slid into favored tool and the dismantling begins. screws worked free, the clock fast becoming a selection of pieces and parts. “clock. ratchet fix for Jo.”

(james)
second brow lifts to join the first
intrigue evolving into an element of surprise
attention drawn by the intricate movement of her hands
distant streetlamps casting but the merest flicker of reflection
haphazard accounting of what pieces and parts the clock becomes
dreads slipslide across shoulder and chest when his head cranes for a better view

he doesn't doubt she may possess the ability to fix the clock
Gnawers, after all, the last to judge anything by appearence
he's just, well, impressed at the show of dextrous mechanics

"Who's Jo?"

timed to keep the conversation flowing without providing unecessary distraction

(ratchet)
head cants, looking up at him brief, before turning back to work, the click now become purposeful, the sound quick, dexterity shown in the way little fingers handle little pieces and place them in some semblance of order that makes since only to the skinny little rat. chin rests on knees, bit changed smoothly, but only when bit is shined clean again is it added as charm – the little rat may be filthy [monster] but favored tools are spotless.

“Jo’s beta. make ratchet have bath. ratchet say sorry for growling when combed hair.”

sheepish the duck of head lower on shoulders. hair silken smooth, clean, tangle free over coat so caked with dirt and grime no one remembers the original color anymore.

(james)
the recollection of her apology brings a soft laughter from the Ahroun's chest
deep rumblygrowl of tempered amusement

"Leas' you c'n still comb y'r hair."

it's only when she looks up to question the comment that he finally moves of note
reaching with that lopsided grin to tug on a roped strand dangling from his brow
while he is quite capable of taming the vined headdress into a semi-reasonable facsimlie of order when necessary
and his hair resembles a mop more than some frantic tribal 'fro of tangles
dreadlocks are not particularly a hairstyle one can maintain with conventional styling tools
much less approach with a comb without some gut-clenching cringe of remorse

(ratchet)
the look up does come, head canting, hands pausing in movement, before head ducks again, sullen expression softening into amusement just for a moment before hands are at work again. “steven makes me. when can catch me.” which isn’t very often if she can help it. that first bath highly traumatic, except for the lufa for all the itchy parts.

ragged nails pause to dig at hip, knee, grubby under torn jeans, and ankle, before going back to work. hand dips into pocket, seemingly at random, though the screw looked for materializes as if by magic, and is added to the pile as pieces and parts slowly begin to reform. “this thingy here broken. why no work. ratchet fix.” idle commentary as fingers test the mechanics of the cuckoo function itself.

(james)
even in the joke's breif interim
his attention really hadn't strayed from her handiwork
pretty obvious the Elder's impressed with her ability
especially to do such things on whim without the luxury of a workshop
(even if that screw's magical materialization makes him think she carries her workshop with her)

"Less itchy if ya lettim catch ya more of'n."

he's noticed the random stray of hands to scratch
both tonight and at their initial meeting
and not chalking it all up to nervous, fiddly habit
but it's a mused obvservation instead of ranking order
and given that the Ahroun wears the scent of soap beneath musk of man and animal
he's probably speaking from experience more than anything

"Where ya learn a fix clocks?"

(ratchet)
gaze snaps over, fingers pausing mid reach to scratch. moment’s hesitation, judging observation vs. order, then with skinny shouldered shrug, chin lifts, neck of dirty t-shirt pulled aside a little, showing patch of red blotchy skin, white dead skin flaking off, like a massive case of dandruff but all over, not just on head. “itch anyway.”

idle observation. even jo’s medicine only made it a little bit better. but still itches. all the time. question shifts back to the clock, and there’s a hum of amusement, perhaps, sliding through constant sound. nimble body rocks slightly, heel to toe to heel again before. “fix anything. see it, take apart, see what’s wrong, make better. have since little.....er.”

almost a joke. glance up to see if he caught it, before watching fingers work again.

(james)
gaze flicks to the shown patch of skin
chin dipping in a nod of acknowledgement
though diplomacy's tact dismisses further comment
(point made. understood.)

almost a joke - but still it inspires soft (if crooked!) smile
the Ahroun rewarding hesitant efforts
(the humor? the glance? both?)

"Useful talen' a have."

(ratchet)
nod, sharp – animalistic, quick movements, without waste, as if determined beforehand. instinct. from pockets, new screws to replace broken, missing ones. always the right size, always the perfect fit, always from different pocket – coat of many pockets a wealth of miscellaneous items. as quickly as the clock came apart, it now fits together, the face carefully put back on after checking to see the gears worked, the hands moved.

settling back on heels slightly, lifts the clock, studying it. from depth of one pocket, a used battery is found – just enough juice to check. nimble fingers slip it into place, and it is with a pleased hummm that the seconds hand starts to move. dirty fingers set clock close to the hour, and when it chimes, cuckoo pops from it’s home to announce and retreat as if never broken. “there.”

satisfaction.
then, curious. “elderman need ratchet fix anything?”

(james)
brows lift again
after having watched the entire process
he's seriously impressed

"Goo' job, Ratch'."

then her question causes his head to tilt in thought
conversation's lull filled by the clock's reborn tick
lower lip pulls beneath flat bank of white teeth
then his head slightly shakes

"Nah righ' now..... but th' boys have a habit a breakin' things, so may be callin' you f'r tha' soon'r'n we think."

speaking of, gaze drifts away towards some place out on the horizon
a distance created in just where his attention currently lies
Totem Phone..... ringring
and split second later his expression wanes to resolved amusement

"Duty callin'..... but here...." weight pulls from the wall, and the lanky Fostern sinks to crouch down at ratchet's level, hand dipping into BDU cargo pocket in route ".... came 'cross this 'n though' you may like't."

fist rises between them, slow enough to show it's no threat
fingers splay as hand turns to reveal a small thing of variegated greens
held on open palm in offer
only when - if - she takes it does form reveal itself in transit
dangly legs unfurling on the little bean-bag frog

it's a small thing, really, probably a pocket-sized toy included in some fast-food kid's meal
promoting this or that collection of soon-to-be-pricelessly-collectible beanie babies
but between the two Gnawers, it's a mini token of friendship and trust
the Ahroun's gesture in a gift to show he means her no harm
or maybe he noticed her clutched toy the other night and simply wanted to make her smile

regardless of what she makes of it
another lopsided grin crosses his features before James straightens and turns to walk away

(ratchet)
a nod, slight, denotes that he can call on her to fix anything anytime. he’s elder, but mostly, he’s nice. and soft hum and content slow turn of ratchet clicks her appreciation of the compliment. head ducking shyly.

he crouches, head cants, slight, watching, before skinny fingers reach, then pluck the toy from his hand, holding it a moment, before clutching it tight to chest. there’s almost a smile there as head ducks, caressing little token of trust and friendship along cheek. softest murmur following retreating elder. “thank you...”

treasured, it’s held against chest, the fixed clock held close as well, watching elderman walk away. only then does she stand, and hunched form moves quickly through the shadows back toward home to show steven her newest treasure.

and the gift for Jo.

Posted by james at 12:00 AM

May 19, 2004

.05.19.04. - bitchin' [rumor]

[riverfront]

(james)
somewhere between the sun's set and star's rise
a pizza was delivered, then disappeared
a redhead finally convinced her body to get back up and go home
and an Ahroun found his way back outside

a Tribal penchance for wandering guided him to a small park
it's not really a park, persay, more of a landscaped nook on the riverfront strip
funded by some legislature's breif attention
little more than a bedded tree surrounded by a few low bushes
accompanied by a cement table, a few benches, and a garbage can to service the spot
all set to overlook what may someday be a fairly picturesque bank along the waterfront

James has taken his place on one of the benches

deep umber watches not the water flowing freely by
but the stellar sparkle brightening in the darkness high above
Corcoran II's stretch to cross ankles on the sole table
bench's wood paneling pressing into the scars bared on his back
dreadlocks haphazardly falling to tangle on his shoulders

to his left sits rumbled shirt brought just in case
(Midweek's not the most popular night out, after all)
pillowing a pack of Camel 99's and battered brass Zippo
to his right one newly opened bottle of beer fizzles mutely
carbonation released background harmony to the river's endless wash

(rumor)
Somewhere between suns set and stars rise, the shaggy haired firecracker had made her way from the downtown area to the Reverfront via old tattered -left behind- skateboard.

push push coast.
She had been getting good on that thing...after a few scrapes, some hurt pride and a collection of scabs come and gone...

she had gotton good on this thing...

push push coast.

the night now surrounding her. the freaks come out at night...the freaks...the freaks come out at night
How true...and that was one of her favorite things
--people watching--
Up on curb...board scrapes along the curb but she stays on it...

"Bitchin...." she smirks.

near the park. the small park the landscaped nook...
near the bench...(coincidence) the dreadlocked elder bee gee

Good thing she didnt see him there yet.
Or she possibly could have been eating pavement.

(james)
she didn't see him yet - but the wolf in man's clothing certainly heard her approach
attention drug from the stars to land on the execution of one fairly confident Ollie
(....bitchin')

he doesn't move, really, at least not much
(Lo, to break her concentration)
one arm drapes along the back of the bench
it facilitates his half-turn to watch
the other's caught in the process of grabbing bottle
good slug of beer washing down his throat
then the base finds place to rest along the top of camoflage covered thigh

(rumor)
The board flips fromt he pavement to her hand. With one quick converse press it is firmly placed under an arm and her hand is moving through the shaggy bangs to push them out of her eyes.
stop
freeze. time stops

A swig of beer, bottle rested on camoflauge thigh. Cobalt blue eyes have now locked and recognized.
(thank God she hadnt seen him 4 seconds earlier)

Its 30 seconds that pass. 30 seconds which actually felt like 15 minutes. 30 seconds could sometimes feel like a lifetime
In that 30 seconds, she had caught her breath, feeling cheeks flush red with color (shadowed in the night) heart beat racing...one breath, eyes quickly close, and she instantly - well 30 second instantly- has composed herself.
yes thats it
Like a teenage kid bumping into front boy dancer from N'Sync. Only he wasnt some faggy boy band and she was no teenie bopper kid.
But safe effect, and she had pushed it aside well, in those 30 seconds. (felt like 15 minutes)

"hey there" (yes, 2 words, came out right, way to go rumor!)

"Sup?" add one more, no wipe outs and nothing dumb. score!

(james)
"Yo."

chin lifts up in pack-established greeting
bottle lifts up to toast her arrival - cause hey, James is in a good mood tonight
lips quirk into the (forever) lopsided semblance of a grin

"Nice Ollie."

amber swirls behind chilled glass
gesture waving the bottle towards one of the empty benches
invitation for her to park it for a bit, if she so chooses
(you mean if she can coordinate herself that much, Jamey-boy)
the Ahroun doesn't make anything of noticing her shock and stammer
no sudden scramble to appear anything but rudely relaxed in possessive sprawl
not by putting a shirt on or taking his feet off the table or putting away that publicly consumed beer
he pretty much just lets it slide with little more than that salutation

(rumor)
She knows nothing about pack-established greeting. Never been in a pack. But that upper nod has been noted more then once now.

nice ollie
"Heh" she grins. "didnt know it had a name, but took a few cracks on the pavement to actually perfect it."

invitation to sit Hell yeah she could compose herself...she only acted a fool once.
15...certainly something that was better off never though of again.

One breath, a smile and a nod.

3 steps closer and she sees the lack of his shirt. Perhaps one brief -stare-
she IS human

And she is plopped on the bench next to him. Not disrupting the beer nor his sprawled pose.

"You seem pimpleass?" (Kemp) "cause i swear hes gonna faceplant that bike into a truck any day now"

(james)
"Ol' packma'e rode a boar'.... pick up a few name' here'n there."

shoulders shrug in support of the excuse
flesh rubs against the lacquered board composing the bench's back
even in the darkening night and beneath the absolutely untamed sprawl of dreads
Rumor can see the ashed scars creeping up over those shoulders from his back
and easy enough to see the glyphed brand on his breastbone from the mini-park's meager lamp
oblique light skidding across the inks designing inner forarm as it moves
at first to raise the bottle to his lips, then up to allow fingers tap of temple

"Nuh..... kin' fine 'im if ya wan'." breif huff of amused chuckle "But he dunn kill'msel' yet."

(rumor)
She shakes her head. she had already noticed the scars, the ink..twice in fact. Hello there, she is 15, full of hormones and sitting next to a half naked hot one

Composed well. good job Rumor!

A nod..."never been a skater...actually used to torment them...tormented roller bladers too..but found it in the garbage, and half the time it beats walkin..."

Explanation...she certainly wasnt a 'skater chick'.
"Naw dont need to find him, just wonderin if he fuond himself pasted to the ass end of a pickup yet" she chuckles.

stops. breathes. heart beat racing--but he didnt know that (or she didnt think he did)

"The hair is bitchin" she points to his dreads, she had liked Roxys...but now on him it was like eye candy buffet. All you can look (eat).
Smiling...
"It's a quiet night...doesnt that usually mean the calm before the storm?"

(james)
"Nawww." been hanging around Decker too much, lately "Coupla close call', but no pastage ye'." there's amusement in his smile and a low, throat, growly chuckle washed down by another swig of beer just before it points towards the board in tow "Hella cheap'r 'n publi' transpor', too."

that's when the Ahroun all out laughs
luckily - it was after the swig swallowed
so she's not faced with all his apparent hotness choking like an idiot
and while the sound may catch the nervous youth off guard
it's clear enough by tone and warmth he isn't laughing at anything she said
well, at least not at anything including her expense
clarified as free hand moves up to tug on errant dread

"Ya think?" he's still wearing that cash-winning showman's easy smile, even if it's lopsided "Dunn think an'body said tha' 'bout it, 'fore."

hand keeps moving up to rake through his jungle-vine hair
(primal animal caught in the urban sprawl, does she doubt his hearing's only human?)
dark eyes lifting once more towards the partially cloudy skies above

"Not alway'." soft sounds mused, he could have been a poet if fate didn't birth him a Warrior "Ev'ry quiet portent s'a storm, wha's 'portan' is how long it las'." gaze ticktocks to meet hers, then chin lifts assisting it's point towards the horizon "Tha' may go up'n nucl'ar flame 'fore I finish my thought, 'cause th' storm'z only minute' 'way 'n the en' begin t'nigh'. Or....." head tilts the opposite way, casting few ropey dreads to swing for gravity "..... we may getta night'a peace 'n res'. Time 'llowed'a realize 'n 'ppreciate what it is we're fightin' for..... 'n tha' we go' one more night'a live 's if it we're our las' so there' no regret' a was'ed t'morrow's....."

he seems to blink, just then
lips caught open just before the formation of another word
realizing he's waxing on a poetical tangent
grin turning a little sheepish when breath exhales unused
(whoops)

(rumor)
The laugh. it was somewhat apparent it wasnt directed at her. Although she couldnt help but feel the heat filling up her cheeks (thank Gaia for the shadows) the heat rushing in causing the color to come through. Something she could NOT stop. Even if she was composing herself well.

ya think? She nods.."fuck yeah...said it to Roxy too...pimpleass says its like knatty gross shit...but no way...its like way too cool.." and here comes the waterfall...

Like hover dam springing a leak...out comes a plethora of words all rambled up jumbled trying to make sense but more like a giddy kid..(take a breath and BREATH or you wil pass out)
"i mean its just cool...they are just..i mean, they are rad..."

Yup and she actually reaches out and touches them--not sexually at all-- just to check them out....
shes a kid...she wasnt coming on to him
Not at all...

Letting the vines go....and listening to him more...

no whoops she listens. Kemp was surprised that Rumor listened to him...that look..the way her eyes get wider as they speak.

Kemp teaching her about the ripple effect

Kemp wasnt used to being listened to, and now James seems to be taken aback at her complete concentration on his philosphy.

"Peace n rest...somethin yall dont get much of...least from what i hear...i mean dont get me wrong...im all about the cause n stuff, i understand it, but must be nice to get a break...i mean its not like you can take a vacation or nuttin...right?"

a grin.
a smile.

Wow she actually is doing the conversation quite well.

Even with the heavy drumbeat of hear heart thumping in her chest...

Like idolizing--not the way she teased and joked with Kemp. She dug him. But more the looking up idol type.
Elder Bee Gee.

and fucking..hot.

(james)
there's another low-key chuckle rumbling out of the Ahroun's chest
definitely at the description of his choice of hairstyles

"Funny tha'.... I bathe more'n he does."

statement supported by fact
for when she reaches out and touches ropey dread
(wasn't Tristan the only that could get away with that?)
she'll find it's weighty hang is because it's still damp
it's not the sole responsibility of gravity's wonton decree
her fingers come back smelling decidedly like shampoo
in fact, if she were paying attention
she could tell that aside from a few new smears from contact with the bench
the Gnawer is damn clean
after a workout like the sparring session with Imogen - he wasn't about to walk around the streets all sweaty and grimey and nasty no matter what his Tribe's reputation may be

and yeh, James is a little taken aback by her enthrallment with his ramble
it's not often - especially now with the battlescar slur - that he gets to speak his mind's explorations
Eagle pack is not known for late night rap sessions focusing on the soul's plight
they fight the Good Fight until exhaustion or injuries take their toll
and spend nights like these quietly assessing what's left
mostly alone, but should they spend them together: not a word is said
they speak of the things that bring distraction's sanity
tossing between them insults, chides, jokes, challenges, beer, or weed
they're all too leery of breaking the peaceful spell by attending to such intimate thoughts
not that any would truly be comfortable addressing them anyway
.... not with each other

such things are shared in sorrowful silence

so that Rumor practically devours each word he muses
he gets over the surprise all but immediately
seems he's as eager to hold an intelligent and meaningful conversation as she is to hear it
most definitely not talking to her like she's only fifteen, or even a kinfolk for that matter
the Fostern BeeGee Elder seems to be speaking to her like she's a god. damned. equal.

"This job dunn come wi' pay vacash'n." going with the flow and nodding with careful - sad - smile "We res' wh'n we fall, 'n pray 'r death's a good'n. Otherwi' all we got 'z this. Qui' nigh', good beer, frien'ly face 'n pleas'n' wor's." she can tell he meant conversation, but it was too hard to say "I learn'd long time 'go t' live each nigh' like't w's my las'. Hones'ly dunno if I'll see 'morrow anyway..... "

it may seem strange to her - there's no bitterness in that admission
no suffered resolution or martyr's solemn vow
seems the Ahroun has readily and easily accepted such a fate
it is the way things have always been, and shall be
all he hopes for is to die a good death and make all the effort worth it

"Make s'nigh's like this mean more. These few hour' are my vacash'n."

(rumor)
She didnt doubt that. the bathing thing not that she would ever get too close to him anyways. The 2 of them, frick and frack, like kids on the playground. She kicked him in the shin, he called her dumbass, she returned with pimpleass...and all was well in teenage-dom.
It was what it was, it is what it is...what would it be...who the fuck knew, and neither would even come close to admitting anything. Even a spark...no fucking way FUCK THAT
when she reaches out and touches ropey dread
(wasn't Tristan the only that could get away with that?) She didnt know that. Now did she.

She was paying attention, always. Curious by nature. curiosity killed the cat satisfaction brought em back...
She could tell he was damn clean. Perhaps even cleaner then her, although she kept herself up well. How? Well no one really knew, and no one really asked. Which was fine with her.
No one asked much, her secrets were safely shoved deep inside her mind. Memories that didnt need to be excivated. Nope. A wall built, a labrynth around it and she was fine with it.

speak his mind's explorations She was a captive audience. Not as much oogling anymore, but listening...

Eagle pack was not known for its conversations, from what she had seen, she normally spoke 3 times anyone else, and she had jsut met some of them, never met others. Something bout the way they communicated with grunts nods and the occasional snort.
She didnt drink. Didnt smoke. Odd for her kind, and a street kid, a packrat, a ragamuffin. Just something she stayed away from. Perhaps her own reasons....

the Fostern BeeGee Elder seems to be speaking to her like she's a god. damned. equal.
and that was just -odd-
She shows him the respect deserved however.

"Guess thats how it is anyways for anyone, not knowin if they'll see tomorrow...fuck, anyone could be crushed by a semi at any given moment, shot by some freaky postal worker or someone who got fired from Kmart...stranger things have happened...think everyone should live life that way...aint nothin for sure ever...not for the Garou (said so quietly) not the kin...not anyone" a shrug and a smirk.
She chuckles.
"Well its a shame you have to spend it in Chicago, I mean Bahamas would be a nicer vacation...but you also get to see things that are wicked cool from what i hear...kinda like a vacation...i mean, the umbra (quiet again) I know sometimes can be dangerous...n fucked up, but i cant do the walk in there thing...i bet there are some cool ass things in there, (she truly had no clue about the umbra except stories she had heard...had always been packless...shit her family--useless--
"and a caern (quietly spoken) aint never been to one, but...heard stories"

(james)
seems James is all smiles tonight
unheeding how they hitch when expression climbs across the left side of his jaw
he doesn't sweat the little things, it's clear there's more out there that's far more important
he just appears to be enjoying the company for how pleasent it is
regardless how deeply serious the topic at hand may be

"Z'ac'ly righ." the nod is sage, even, raggedyman turned sudden urban shaman "Jus' cause they not on th' fron' lines a this War li'e us, 'r ev'n know 'bout it, dunn mean ev'ry day ain' a battle a some sor'. Shamef'l par's wh'en nobody realize' it.... 'n was'e th' time they'ave."

shoulders roll in a shrug
night's cooling down, so moisture doesn't stick flesh to lacquered wood this time
the movement's smooth in the way it lifts dreads and ripples scars
dark eyes drop to fingers fiddling with pack of smokes
he pulls one out for himself, and begins to offer to her out of habit
but then he stops - maybe cause it's contributing to the delinquency of a minor
most likely because he remembered she didn't smoke at their last meeting
Zippo and pack dropped on rumpled tee after the cherry's lit
now empty beer bottle used as an ashtray

"I go where Moth'r call. Pluck'd me outta Alb'ny when I wa nineteen, sen' me a NYC, Jersey, 'n down th' Eas' Coas'.... now'm here, 'n maybe one day she'll see reason a send Eagles a B'hama. I wou'd'n c'mplain!" laughed "Seem a be gettin' 'roun' the worl' fas' 'nuff, seein' it both side a th' gauntle' f'r all its good'n bad."

(rumor)
A chuckle escapes and legs are pulled up into indian style position on the bench. Little chilly out here. Not horrible...certainly not intolerable, but slightly chilly.

A nod. and she watches him pause at the offering her a smoke. A smirk hearing Kemps voice in her head bitching about causin cancer n shit. Not like he could really get cancer. Smoking, she had tried it, tasted like an ass (or at least what shed assume ass tasted like) Plus she coudlnt afford a habit like that, never know where her next dollar would come. Although she always seemed to get it.

Last nights dinner was sponsored by Jack Handler. Thank you Jack...you shoudl be getting your wallet back in the mail with everthing in tact, except the cash...nice lil girl who found it n all

Life was strange, certainly not like a box of chocolates..forrests mom lied
another shrug and a breath of the night air.
"Yannow, runnin solo just seems normal to me, cause its all i have had, kinda funny... (small secrets escape..only small ones, part of thelabrynth around her past)
"Mom was useless...seriously named me Rumor, cause -rumor had it my dad was some Bee Gee warrior"

a pause..
"course he could have also been about anyone else on the block im sure, so Rumor it was, rumor stuck"

another pause. then a chuckle...
"watchin ya guys though, its just kinda cool, its family, well tighter then family, cause frankly some peoples families just suck" she glances up at the (elder, respected, still hot fostern bee gee)

"Ya get what you're dealt, no use whining and crying bout it, make the best of it...make life fun, fuck it i mean, it is what ya make of it right?"
asked.
question.

"then again what do i know, " a laugh.."im 15...almost 16"(ok she said that too quick -starstruck-)

(james)
"S'about how I see it." the Ahroun nods, but what's easy breifly wanes to sad, almost fondly whistlful, in recollection "Fam'ly I once had turn' on me. S'where I got these scar'." twist of chin towards shoulder, added to the absent wave of cig scissored between two fingers "Made th' bes' of what card' it dealt me, 'n did what I hadda do."

his gaze turns to her
there's a lot of knowledge (sorrow) in dark eyes not even a decade older than hers
but the expression quirks easy, effortless once again

"Wasn' much ol'er 'n you a' th' time. 'n Kem' learn'd how hard this life get' not ev'n a year 'go." I was there those eyes seem to say I saw what horrors broke his heart and blessed his Rite of Passage "Fam'ly ain' alway' th' folks ya born to, s'th' folk' ya get a choose. Got relay'sh'ns back Eas', but I call Tris'n broth'r, 'n th' boys my fam'ly now. Tha' pack's ev'rythin' a me."

more important than the Nation
more important than the Caern they bled to raise
more important, she can so clearly see, than everything save Gaia
no matter what atrocities the Fostern has been through
he will always have the strength of his faith in Mother Gaia
even an inexperienced, teenaged kin can see that in the depths of deep umber eyes
but just as quick as anything - the gravity of their conversation launches into chide's orbit

"Rum'r ain' that badda name." hand reaches out and skirts over her skull, ruffling black locks streaked red back into her face from where she had so carefully placed it just before "Soun' like a deed name wi' tha' story. S'like how I got dub' "Jukebox" 'fore th' name th' Nation know' now."

(rumor)
Funny how things come out, funny how things are alike (never coincidences)
Pack may be everything to him.

More important than anythin...Nation, Caern, everything. Pack isnt something shed even understand...till one day she experiecned it.
He was right, family wasnt always what you were born from. She hadnt seen her mother since that day she left. And never looked back.
She never had to...
The first time someone spoke of Kemp and his -hard time-.
that day in the factory. The way the fun loving mood had switched in an instant to the dark cloud.
[check please]
She had felt it, it sucked. Nothing good about it, and though not a word was spoken, and the mood had passed, she had recognized the feeling.

The way she could so clearly see his faith in Gaia, his knowledge and faith, everything apparent.

Right there.
She could see the pain and suffering (even if only for a moment) that day...in the factory.

"It's always good to know someone gots your back...cause no ones born with eyes in the back of their head...guess thats what its like havin pack n people who give a shit..they get to be the eyes in the back of yer head" she chuckles.

"and if they are kemps, then they are probably lookin at your ass" she smirks.

Hand moves to her hair. Ruffling her new-found do. ohmygodheartpitterpatteromygod calm calm calm breathe ok better phew

a smile and a shrug... "Kemp had my back though when that Lord was all bein an asshole... i mean i wiped out clearly...bad timing, and the Lord was wearin my slurpee...but it wasnt intentional...i mean, jeesh like id wipe out intentionally..."
a huff a snort...and a chuckle.
"was pretty fuckin funny though, once i fixed the bit of broken pride n all"

another pause..

"Jukebox?" head tilts slightly...."didnt know they called you jukebox...just was told James..." face still slightly flushed..even sayin his name..certain things triggered that pitter patter, but mostly she was doin
just
fine.

(james)
the Fostern - again - laughs

"Dun think I got Kem' watchin' my ass 'stead a back. My curves'n dangly parts 'r in all th' wrong place'." winked in a street-showman's smooth confidence "That'd be yo' pro'l'm. He s'a damn good kid. Green as hell, but I ain't seen many tha' young 'n fulla heart." a breif glance at her that's still got a bit of playful grin "'R ded'cate 'msel' t' protec' kin so strong."

he knows a lot of it stems from making up for the one kin the Rotagar couldn't protect
and James isn't sure how long it will take the boy to come to terms with what happened back in Jersey
whether he'll ever fully understand how his actions saved the child instead of destroyed her
but that isn't the Gnawer's battle to fight
only Kemp can discover such wisdom
... though it doesn't mean James won't do whatever he can to help

"'specially 'gains' a Lor'...." his nose wrinkles in distaste "Nev'r met one I like a tha' blood."

then his head tips, dreads falling into the laughter

"Yeh, got name' Jukebox 'roun' thirteen, 'n it stuck af'r my Rite a Pass'ge.... 'cause I cou' play aaaaanythin' whennit came a drummin. S'what lead in a th' change t' Drums'n'Skull' af'r tha' fight a lef' these scar'." that would be a smirk, there "Took'm out wi' my 'sticks.... pieces a rebar, bash' 's fuck'n skull in..... 'n a witty The'rge thought it 'ppropriate a th' lesson I learn tha' night."

(rumor)
Finally it is time to make her little pitter patter game out in open, so it would alleviate her constant stammer and blushing.

The wink...the comment about his dangely parts.
"between Tristan givng me a visual of you coming out of a shwoer in a towel, and you talking bout dangley parts, im thinkin your gonna make a 'sweet lass' pass out"
said like the southern belle she WASNT. Definately a joke..

"so to cease torturing this poor 15 year old...dont go there..cause im not quite sure if this lil head can handle those visuals" she grins.
There, now a joke...out...and no longer the weight of OHMYGOD on her shoulders.
"Pimpleass seems cool...we are like bonnie n clyde...i think hes cool, but dont tell him that"
She nods..
"when i wiped out, the lord called me Kemps toy...i got nothin wrong with bein kin, shit we are cool in our own way...but fuck if im gonna be called a toy...but oh i sometimes dont think befeo i speak...so Imogen stoped me as i spouted off my feelings for the Lord" she laughs.
"Imogens been helpin me out a lot, i wanna be a like her...shes one badass chick, and smart...sort of a cope, with dead people or soemthing....plus i wanna be a little like Roxy...especially with the fixing of the cars...Tristan is too cool, and puts kemp in his place..i like him, hes cute, too bad hes gay, i mean another one bites the dust" she laughs...
THAN....
it's

The scar game.
Although she never won it was a game she enjoyed...
Something about gnawers...or maybe all children of Gaia...lood or kin...or fuck it maybe just sickos like her....
but the scar game..
"never had to to a rite of passage...but, you see this?"
excitement in her voice, proud excitement..
She lifts her shirt up on the side exposing one raised scar. jagged...
"Mom was wacked out on crank or crack or one of those dirty nasty drugs...I was watchin tv, suppsin it was interrupting her fuck session and she came at me with a bottle, swung for my head, missed, but bottle broke and i got the backhanded swing to the side, left me with hte zorro mark on my side."
a chuckle..."hurt like hell, but healed up kinda bitchin"
a pause...no mentions at all on the accompanying scars just lower and off to the left of that one. No mention. They were much more faded, and were indescribable...not bullets, not a knife, just circular raised but fades scars.
No mention of those...perhaps they werent worth talking about. (skelitons)

(james)
the Ahrouns' calloused hands go up in surrender
palms open and fingers spread wide in the symbol of backpedalling

"I 'pologize." an Elder apologizing.... sincerily.... to a Kin?! "Won' go there 'gain."

and James was serious in that apology
even if he's still wearing that playful grin
no need to let verbal faux pas ruin the rest of the fun

"Im'gen s'a good woman.... if.... skeery with'r flesh peelin' glares." no question James has recieved his fair share of those "She's med'cal 'xaminer f'r Cook Coun'y... sor'a like'r own version a Scully, 'cept she work f'r th' State 'stead'a the FBI."

hey, the analogy DOES fit
even if you'd never. ever. catch James saying it infront of said redheaded kin
reiteration: he's recieved his fair share of those flesh peeling glares
strange enough he may be Mulder to her Scully
(they fight crime!)
but reactions to such comparisons is one Truth out there he wishes not to find

THEN - the scar game begins
and a brow lifts towards frame of shaggy dreads
whistling low at the collection of skin gnarling her side
nasty, yes. bitchin', oh yes.

"Think y'r more like Tris'n th'n ya think already." the Fostern's too amused, head shaking in laughter "He think' 'is collect'n a scars 'r bitchin' 'n sexy. Only one I go' worth showin's my back.... can' see what' fuck'n up m' jaw."

but, true to form in the game
(he's an Ahroun, could he really resist the challenge of scar show and tell?)
boots pull from where they rest on the cement table
planting on the ground shoulder-width apart to bear his weight
all of it pivoting around the point where camoflaged BDUs meet bench seat
hand sweeping the heavy curtain of dreads from blocking the way
showing her the full-extent of the mauling's marks latticing his flesh
savagely deep marks stained haunting, ominous black
discolored skin raised in battle's horrible braille
telling the story through destruction's aftermath that needs no words
claw-marks (Crinos claws could only cause that much damage) beginning on the tops of his shoulders
as if some maddened creature grasped for some twisted piggy-back-ride
slashing down past triangulation of scapula when grip was lost
beginning again to form the slashing design of hate's blistering (Frenzy. Thrall.) fury
as if that creature, so offended, meant only to rip James' spine from his skeleton
marks disappearing below the line of his belt

(rumor)
His apology, althoguh unexpected was noted.
"didnt mean it like that, just...well i dunno something about you talking about your dangling parts is going to make me not able to focus on this game!"

heh
good enough.

"i cant win, but i can come in a close second"
(granted there were only 2 of them)

Stop
Change subject.
"ohhhhhhhhhh like skully...i saw the badge, we talked a bit, but she didnt quite get the time to exaplin what the dead had to do with her job, just she had a badge, and a lot to do with the dead...and a pager that never quits."
she chuckles...

"Ok back to the game" she looks...really examines the scars for what they were...his battle wounds in battle, hers were from her shitty family and strange occurances, and frankly she only had one more good one.

"Holy shit! Bitchin...crap that must have hurt like fuck...you win i forfeit" she chuckles....cause her next one wasnt nearly as bitchin.

"look...heres my consilation scar though...
Pant leg lifted. scar fromunder her knee almost to the top of akilies tendon.
"that one was not as glamerous....had a guy think i was trickin on the street. i dont care what i gotta do to get money, but trickin aint one of them...i busted ass getting away, i aint gonna fight some fucker 2 times my size...so i ran like hell...jumped a fence...hello barbed wire...nice rip around my leg almost to the akillies. but i got away, he jumped it too, im smaller and quicker...he got the ol family jewels caught..
ahhh sweet irony"
she smiles...
and pauses..

ok ok and looks for the moment while she has the chance.
But its his back..(muscular back) he cant see her ogging as much....plus they had past the...teenage girl crush.... and she was much more comfortable with him..

he was good people...
And for once, she asks...
"dont got a place to crash tonight...think your pack will mind me taking up a corner...just for the night, i didnt get my normal money today...so i cant slum motel it tonight..and id rather skip the alley...but you can tell me naw, and ill take no offense"

(james)
"It almos' kill me."

it's a knowing smile, there, when he turns back around
some gremlin of information twinkling in the depths of the Ahroun's eye
he wonders, breifly, whether or not it's a piece of lore she possesses
he's well aware of what it takes for a scar to remain on Garou's flesh
quite literally something that takes them one step past Death's door
but isn't strong enough to keep their Rage from pulling them back to the Mother's War
it's the reason he bears so few scars towards tonight's game
though by all rights and mortal purposes, he should be a damned map of mangled skin

"Only oth'r I got a show's my jaw." head tips so fingers can trace down the rugged line of bone, stopping where smooth planes give way to the slightest of indentions which seems so menial on the outside, but anchors the collection of toughened fibers which infringe even the simplest of movements "'n the bran'." fingers drop to his chest, tapping the small, raised glyph burned onto his breastbone the night he became one of Eagle's own "No' sure'f they c'mpare a your tale'z."

he is a Garou - of course they do
he will see and survive such things as she has not yet learned to imagine
but that doesn't stop his downplaying his own marks to center the attention on Rumor
it is her game, after all

then the mighty Ahroun chuffs a scoffing laugh

"Hell kin'a BeeGee you think I am?" his expression maintains some element of mock offense - she's comfortable, and the showman in him can't resist throwing her off guard with imaginary dramatics "Momma Ruggs'd pick 'r ass up fr'm Alb'ny 'n walk all th' way ou' here'n KICK. MAH. ASS. a hear a such a thing."

she's fixed with what he can muster of a glare until the shock passes
cause James can't hold it - he's laughing

"Yeh, c'mon." t-shirt, pack of smokes, and Zippo's scooped off the bench as the Fostern rises, bottle aimed to sink into the garbage can's waiting maw (score!) and his head tips thattaway in lead "Gotta safe'ouse coupl'a block' 'way, gotta git a this week' job'n a few hour' an'way... you c'n take my bunk f'r th' nigh'."

(rumor)
almost killed him
Of course...most of the things a garou dealt with ended up with the words..almost killed me
His scars brutal..warrior battles...he is a Garou - of course they are

The scar game over...she gets up with him and gives him a nudge with her shoulder. May not be his style, touchy physical friendship..but if she felt comfortable with someone, she just was herself.
was the way it was...

"Safe house cool...anythin works for the night...i 'preciate it, usually i find a place...but it was much cooler talking to you then scoping a place to crash tonight.

twas your vacation, in terms used earlier...only a few hours, not the bahamas, and unpaid...but good for her...nonetheless.

"Funny how you talk about your mom...my mom coulda taken lesons..." she chuckles.
Fuck her mom.
Family...Family was what he said..and no she wasnt pack but yes she was family..and although curious and smartass like...she certainly wasnt stubborn in this case.

"works good for me, n i really appreciate everythin...was fun vacationin with ya Jukebox...n i hopeyou see tomorrow..."
a pause and now a quick joke.

"or for my benefit i hope i see you tomorrow" she chuckles.

"but by then im sure pimpleass will have found me and we'll be reeking haoc on the city" she laughs.

"if he doesnt kill me on that bike"
a pause she looks at him and chuckles...

The 15 year old ragamuffin packrat, kin who has a new sense fo something...she isnt sure what, but its definately something...

"Hey..." a pause.."n thanks for splaining shit to me, and talkin, and stuf,i dont get that much, n i appreciate it...

"Ok..im ready...lead the way and i will follow" she chuckles...
(that way i get one last good ass glance)
"watchin yer back and all" she laughs, the old joke returning.

and for once...
with someone other then Kemp.
She was comfortable.

Posted by james at 12:00 AM

.05.19.04. - swing a things [imogen] *pd

[riverfront]

(imogen)
Evening.

It's not yet late, and the days are now deliciously long. Six am, one can wake up in broad daylight. Of course, James is not the sort to wake up at six am, so perhaps he goes to bed in broad daylight. At the very least, he does get to experience the long evenings that spill out toward night, still warm and sunshined, even with the clouds.

Imogen sits on a cinder block outside, glancing upward toward the sky, the slanting rays sparking gold in the flaming hues of her hair, and washing warm across her pale skin. Elbow rests on one knee, the degree of the angle sharper than ninety degrees. Her fingers move slowly, working out a particularly nasty crack of her fist. Another part of James's lesson, his fulfillment of the favour she's asked. Scraped knuckles, because god knows he didn't give her quarter and god knows she didn't know when to stop.

It's almost easy to see past her petiteness sometimes, the fragile impression of small bones, particularly when dressed as she is, in loose cotton pants, and a tank top, that allows a brief vision of her litheness, of the fact she was far from soft; the fact that she was far more solid than her size offered. Her tattoo runs sinuously over the curve of one bicep. Go a little farther up, and one can see the pale fading pink edge of a scar. Bullet hole, through and through.

Really, this was an effort in futility, or so it must seem. If a bullet can tear through her skin, she certainly cannot fight with fists and hands what has claws and teeth.

Her head tilts backward, flicking up across the cloudy sky, the sun burning yellow as it dips toward the horizon. After a moment, her weight shifts, elbow leaving her thigh to extend the arm, reaching out over the gravel to pick up her pager where it had been left, dusting it off before examining the display.

"I can see," she says, attention flicking toward James with a brief shadow of a smirk as her attention flicks from the tether of her career, "why you bind yer hands."

(james)
"Had off'r...."

admonishment drifts away on a coil of smoke
he did offer to bind her hands - once
secondary suggestion cut short by his own sense of self-preservation and her lifted brow

the "you'll learn" hidden by dreads swinging towards gravity's call
head bowed as he finished wrapping the strips of cloth around his own calloused hands
this time, it wasn't to protect his skin from rusted metal, crumbling bricks, or unforgiving bags
this time, it was to pad the impact of his own strikes from her pale, pale flesh

one point five hours later - she did, in fact, learn

a pile of tangled cloth occupies the ground between dully shined Corcoran II's
right hand flexing out the compression such binding caused
tendons upset the even flow of iridescent ink patterning inner forarm
for unlike Imogen, James is clad in only BDUs and belt holding them on lean hips
the black-ashed scars of his back presented in all their glory for the wall behind to see
dying sun and non-stop wind drying the sweat to salt hide earning summer's slow tan

"So other'n tha'...." words (amused) drift off as left hand stretches out, texture of still-bound hand closing lightly around her wrist, the pager plucked away and set aside before her hand turned over for his inspection of the scrapes ".... wh'else yeh learn a 'day."

she may be a thoroughly educated Doctor with the framed degrees to prove it
but this is his territory, where experience far outshines bookery
hand closes around the slender digit extending from her middle knuckle
pressure increases - slow and gentle - until the question is punctuated by a deliberate POP!
she can feel it all the way down into her wrist: pressure relieved, tension leaking away, minorly uncomfortable regardless of how grazed skin may protest

her arm released with the unspoken understanding that - off the training floor - he only explains when asked

(imogen)
Something he's learned about Imogen: she does not like to be touched. And so, when his hand closes about her wrist, a fine thread of tension that comes to birth within her muscles cannot be surprising. It's almost an animal stillness. Maybe it's simply that it's unpredictable, an action like that. Garou are dangerous. Ahrouns are worse.

But her fine boned wrist remains beneath the calloused touch of his hand, the beating thrum of her pulse tangible. So, she doesn't move, her attention flicking down to watch his manipulation of her fingers, jaw setting briefly as he brushes grazed knuckles. Breath exhales as the pressure pops, and she smirks faintly.

"Thanks..." she says, fingers flicking out slowly again, extending and drawing inward, testing the breadth of response that she has. Consider that for her, her hands are important. He knows, though not from experience, that she plays an instrument, and what's more, her job depends on the dexterity of each digit.

Her hand passes briefly over her face as if the action could wipe fatigue from her, though it won't. The action continues upward, pushing back strands of hair from her face, half loosed from activity and not yet bothered to be recontained. "Punch usin' th' first two knuckles o' yer fist, no' th'whole o' it," she says, a hand dropping to her neck, rubbing the back briefly before falling to rest elbow on her extended thigh, fingers dangling toward the glass strewn ground.

"Weight back t'block..." she's converting what was learned through action into words, "'nd don't throw weight too far to punch."

A smirk works its way across her mouth again as her hand lifts, closing briefly in expression, "and this is not a bloody sword."

(james)
she does not like to be touched
James has, from previous events, learned this valueable lesson
which may, consequently, relay the importance of why he chooses to do so now
also knowledgeable of her expert eye
he makes no interruption explaining his examination

feeling out the tense nerve responses as unobtrusively as he can
delegating with patience and pause what's damage, and what's her own internal reaction
nothing more than a teacher's fingertip touch outlining the probable damage
meager flexion ascertaining judgement's call
offhandly pointing out areas for her to remain aware of workout's toll
outlining what will, in time, strengthen or change
(ever seen a boxer's knuckles when he makes a fist?)
he knows how important her hands are
he knows, innately, the woman he's dealing with
so her thanks is accepted with little more than a nod
smoke extracted from his lips to flick the ashed log onto the gravel to his right

"Throw fr'm y' shoul'r." no intructor's tapping out physique, he only gestures with the Camel scissored between index and middle fingers "use y'r hips, aim jus' pas' y'r targit but dun' lean in sa much ya lose y'r stance."

correction in the addition explicit definition, teach but do not ridicule mistakes
plain as the eye can see - Imogen is far from the first James has schooled
he knows how to relate to ignorant without pinpointing fault

deep umber eyes strafe left, attention caught by the movement of her hands
he could easily, even quickly, rub out the knots and aches brought on by the workout
but Imogen doesn't like to be touched - and there's a few other consequences he won't think of
so the offer doesn't even forumulate to completion in his mind

"Nuh." chuckled on another exhale before the Camel's crushed out in gravel "Notta swor', s'wha' keeps fuckin' y' up."

(imogen)
And she pays attention, regarding him with dark eyes that are intense in their directness. It's almost familiar for her, now. She's had it since he met her, and long before that. She is, most likely, committing the lesson to memory. Ask her in a few days, in a week, and she might even be able to repeat the lesson word for word, right down to the accent. There's that kind of impression in the way she pays attention.

A brief low scoff, which is Imogen's version of a snort, "I almost keep expectin' yeh t'declare 'right of way.'" Head shakes briefly, tendrils of hair spilling across her cheekbone, only to be pushed back with an impatient hand. "And yeh move while I'm waitin'." Explanation perhaps, though it might not work, out of context, for reactions a split second later than they should be.

"I'll get it," smirked as she leans, reaching for cigarettes that had been left with her pager, picking up the package and tapping it lightly, without yet getting out a fag.

(james)
"Takesss practi'." statement accompanied by shrug of strong, scarred shoulders "I learn' a th' street, withou' time a plan 'r reac'.... so it's 'ngrain'." seems her explanation worked, in obliquely comparing his method of schooling to her structure in fencing tradition and discipline "Once y' un'erstan' the basic a balance a stance 'n form, th' res' is improv."

she does not yet pull out a fag
he, however, stretches to tap the open end of the soft pack
forcing it to dip down and spill twin cancer sticks into waiting fingers
other hand nimbly producing battered and scuffed brass Zippo
one smoke's lit, and filter dents between his teeth as the remaining objects offered

"Y' learn' fas'..... won' take long a catch onna th' swing've it."

(imogen)
"Yeah," dryly offered.

"Swing from the shoulders, use yer hips and aim just past your target. -"

"Ta," reaching out and up to take the cigarette and zippo from him, turning the battered metal between nimble fingers before lighting up, the orange glow bright in the fading near black sun. Smoke spills softly from her lips as she completes her sentence. "- I'll catch on th'swing of it alright." The pun is terrible, but so dryly issued that the humour is mostly in the fact she almost doesn't sound like she's joking.

(james)
the pun was terrible
the pun was damned tragic
and her deadpan is met with widely lopsided smile
at least he didn't use some horrible dance metaphor

"C'mon."

the Ahroun stands, long and limber though he arches arms above his head anyway
loosening up the muscles slowly coiling in twilight's inspired cool-down
dreads shake down over the broadly lean set of his shoulders
juxtaposing ropey texture with rippled scar-knotted flesh though the colors blend in shadow
extention reverses in fold to pick up his pack and wrap
idly plucking at the remaining hand's binding as boots take him back towards the door

"Cravin' pizza."

(imogen)
C'mon. A brief echoing smirk as the kinfolk's weight shifts forward, drawing herself up to stand.

Cigarette held in her mouth, her hands brushing briefly at her pants before she follows the Ahroun back toward the factory. Pizza works. One hand catches the door on it's swing back, stopping it from slamming hollowly, leaving it only a dull thud in the falling night.

Posted by james at 12:00 AM

May 16, 2004

.05.16.04. - elderman [imogen-ratchet-rumor-tristan-steven-julian]

(james)
the first thing anyone really notices is the dreadlocks
most people can recognize others by the movement of their gait
however, for James, it's far easier to pinpoint his step's effects on the jungle-vine hair
starting six feet one inches above the ground and dropping a good eighteen inches back down again
thick ropes of variegating shades of brown tumble and bounce across muscular shoulders
personalized drumbeat as tips tap against planes of wife-beater exposed skin on his yoke and arms
(it's only May, he's still working on that summer-come tan)
percussion punctuation to a very typical ground-devouring stride

just like the generations of Bone Gnawers before him:
James can walk across a city and back and never once seem to actually have to try
long, lopey steps just seem to cast the blocks away

luckily he doesn't have to pay attention
cause it seems he's more fixated on drawing the pack of Camel's from a pocket
sunglasses slipping down his nose to gravity's call when deep umber eyes strafe
skull slanting for the addition of sight to such an endeavor

.... the fuck did that zippo go....

(imogen)
She'd watched, briefly, as the Fenrir Modi walked off, before her gaze straifs away, attention caught by Kemp's antics just up the road, Rumour visible just beyond him, features half expressionless as she lifts the cigarette back to her mouth, the action half halting as she catches a brief glancing scent of her hands.

She has no misconceptions as to why a Garou might keep the distance from her, this night, this moment. Scents like that catch her unaware, suddenly strong and memorable after five, ten minutes of having sunk beneath other scents as she grows accustomed.

It was a busy street tonight. James's foot scrapes the concrete, or maybe she feels his rage, or he mutters to himself as he looks for the zippo, and her head turns, finishing her action, putting the cigarette between her lips, and taking a drag as she watches the Ahroun for a moment.

"James," strange how a name can change when wielded by a woman of british descent. When she has his attention, her arm extends, bronze plated zippo held between her fingers, "Here."

(kemp)
Squealing to a halt so close to ratchet he could reach out and kiss her. Debris spewed up by his back tire. One foot down, touching the ground for the balance needed for that sudden half spin, half skidding stop. A rev of the engine. Sunglassed vistage locking on Rachet for just long enough to flash a joy filled, wicked smile and wiggle of his brows. Then he was pushing off with a squeal of that tire to head back up the road.

(ratchet)
grunt of satisfaction, pilfered metal disappearing into one of many pockets sewn into long coat that covers gaunt frame from shoulders to ankles. coat holds many treasures, heavy and oddly bulging here and there.

dirty hands grasp end of dumpster then, and in flurry of movement just inside alleyway near James and Imogen, skinny form is in motion, swinging over the side and dropping lightly to feet, folding instantly to crouch, long coat fluttering around to pool on filthy cement. a moment spent, head canted, the blossom of sound wary around dirty creature, constant.

(clickclickclickclick)

gaunt frame stretches to stand most of the way upright, shoulders hunched down, making oneself small as possible as feet scurry through shadows toward the mouth of the alleyway. dark hair hangs tangled, lifeless, thick over shoulders as body sinks to crouch, ass against heels, skinny chest pressed to knees, rocking forward slight to peek out at the walk, and those standing there. hand dips into pocket seemingly at random, crumpled wrapper found and in moments constant click is replaced by shove of burger found between lips, shovebitechewswallow in quick succession.

then.

head snaps up as bike comes barreling down on skinny form, and shoulders press tight against wall, making target smaller, harder to hit, dark eyes wide before with sound that borders on terrified, burger spills from hand, and filthy form is up, scurrying around the corner and to the sidewalk avoided, hugging against brick, arms wrapped tight around skinny chest, all but running away...

...narrowly missing collision with James and Imogen...

( clickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclick)

(rumor)
And he comes barreling past once more. She sticks her tongue out and rolls her colbalt blue eyes as he passes.
Stops. dibris flys and he is headign back towards her.
who gave this kid this machine?
Board off the ground once more she is now ready as he comes barreling towards her.
This time a yell
"You really oughtta get you a white jumpsuit like ol Evil Kineval had, cause you keep drivin like that, you may as well charge people to watch"
Probably only heard
get you a white jumpsuit like ol Evil
Cause he was already passing her once more, not to mention the sound of the bike tuned her voice out. (along with the knack he had for tuning female voices out anyways)
Now she walks...hoping some other ragamuffin prankster was watching and would do the ol cherry bomb trick as she could be just the innocent observer.

(james)
James
damn strange when that name's molded by a British tongue
it's an old name. Biblical origins.
essentially boiling down to mean one who siezes another's property or place
(born and raised a Hood, baby)
somewhere in Old English derivatives produced nicknames
so one would think it's a fairly natural thing
almost sounding somewhat dignified when coiled on Cornish accent

then.... one looks at the guttermutt

grin spreads lopsided across the Ahroun's face - when he looks up
right side of his mouth quirks a little wider
the left side hitches when muscles across his jawbone protest against scar tissue

"Muh he row."

exagerratedly drawled as pretty as a Southern Belle
one debutante who's reaching arm is smeared with dust and grime from this week's laborous job
fading sunlight catches oblique upon the iridescent inks swirled on right inner arm
sinew and tendon flex over skeleton's granite bone
and the brassy flamage clackZ'Ps cigarette to embrous life

Kemp's vehicular acrobatics barely pull his attention off first drag
ratchet's close call, however, gets the Fostern to huff an acknowledging grunt on exhale
lighter palmed back to Imogen

(kemp)
All he caught as he flew past, flashing that grin at Rumor this time, was something about something white and evil. Oh man, she wants to see my shorts! He'd show her something evil alright. Stop that, can't drive if ya don't have blood to the right head, dumbass. Constant chatter going through his head. Nearly running up on the back end of a truck before having to slam on the brakes hard.

(rumor)
Alas. People would pay money to see that. Kid on bike face planting into back of truck.
anyone check those breaks lately? he uses them so much they had to be shot soon. She...was...not chasing after him.
No fucking way. So instead she drops the board back to the ground and begins to head up towards the redhead. who just caught her eye. The cop for the dead, or sort-of-cop who worked when people died, or..whatever it was she did. She liked Imogen, although something about the redhead sort of intimidated her. Not as much scared, then respect. Rumor didnt really respect many people. Imogen, she gained respect at the first eyebrow lift at her and arm grab. And that was that.
push push coast towards the redhead.
Shit. Now she was giving pimpleass the prime ass view as she propelled herself up the street. Good thing it wasnt winter, or shed need eyes in the back of her head for incoming snowball-bombs.

(imogen)
He can see her stall over what he said, a brief momentary flicker. It's not his slur; she's given that look to a thousand americans, their accents momentarily baffling her and losing her to their sounds. Then it clears, and she smirks, absently, "No more 'Gone wi' th Wind for ..." you.

Words cut off as Ratchet nearly collides and the redhead sidesteps to avoid the collision in a breath of pure breeding, rotting death and cigarette smoke, the ember of her cigarette (held between two fingers) coming perilously close to the escaping thing's face before the slender woman snatches it back out of harm's way. Stares briefly at the retreating form, before the squealing of breaks catches her attention.

busy night, isn't it? Her nerves are shot, to be honest. Noises are almost too loud, irritating. She knows too well the symptoms of extreme fatigue. And knows too well how to control them.

Gaze flicking toward Kemp and his psychotic antics, "someone decide he wasn't crazy enough on his own?" her gaze sliding downward toward the girl (pushpushcoast) who approached.

(ratchet)
at grunted huff eyes widen, head canting to cast dark gaze over James and Imogen, the last gathering a second glance – having seen her before – though it is the first that pulls attention back to him. eyes lift, from ground, to eye level, which for the skinny form is less then 5 foot even if she was to stand fully upright, then up further to briefly meet gaze.

nostrils flare
(sniff. sniff sniff)

though it is more the rage falling off skin that gets attention and gaze to snap back to the walk, dirty fingers pulling knit hat further down over ears, over brow, voice barely audible mumble. “sorry rhya”

(kemp)
Getting his heart back down out of his throat after a second of sitting there, breathing heavily. Man, almost wrecked the bike. Prime concern for the bike, not his life, he was destined to die some grissly death sooner or later as it was. Likely eaten by something nasty. Turning to go back down the street at a more sedate pace, just so he could make sure Rumor heard him. "Shake it baby, shake it!" A wolf whistle and blare of the horn.

(rumor)
How could she hear the whistle over that godforsakenly awful horn. She couldnt. However she did hear the shake it baby and tilts her head slightly to shake it at him.
Her middle finger. "Thats what you meant isnt it?" barking back at him as he passes her. "Cause if i flash my ass at you, youll be crashing that puppy for sure"
push push coast.
push push coast.
Stop.
Imogen, and others. No one she knew...but it was no matter. pop the gum snaps and the bubble goes back into her mouth. Something inside her, (cant fight hormones) even when you WANT to and pretend they dont exist...something inside her, making her look briefly back to see if he was in fact following.

(james)
the look shot towards Imogen's admonishment is something akin to - unrepetant?
coupled with a shrug flexing the ashed scars creeping up from beneath the back straps of the wifebeater
James would almost look innocent

if he wasn't a walking, talking, full-mooned version of primal nightmare
luckily the moon is slender rising in the sky

deep umber eyes follow gravity's pull towards the little creature all but disappearing into the sidewalk for apology
he doesn't need to see what Kemp's doing to know how balls out insane it is
the sound effects are creating quite a mental image above already known and expected methods of behavior
(nice to know the kid's doing AOK)
dark orbs peering over the sunglass rim in something resembling curious inspection
(sorry rhya?)
attention flicks towards Rumor's arrival - but soon enough it's back on ratchet
brow lifting a bit towards frame of heavy dreads

no matter how long he's been Fostern, even to the point of serving on the Elder Council, such titles tend to still catch the Ahroun a biiiiit off guard

"No worry, kid....."

(kemp)
He was rumbling to a halt behind the little gathering. Glasses put away, too damned dark for him to see with them on and he didn't want to hurt his baby and be on foot again. Murky green eyes the color of moss on the bottom of a pond. Those eyes went from James with a lift of his chin in greeting, to Imogen with a wiggle of his brows, then to Rumor to snicker. Last to Ratchet with open curiosity. "Who are you?"

(imogen)
Rumour's approach results in a brief regard of the girl, what serves as a greeting before ratchet makes an apology, and the slender woman's gaze flicks that way, head half tilted toward the sound of banter at her back, attention paid more out of prudence than anything else.

The sound of her pager (loud, sharp, repetitive) likely does little to soothe ratchet, even as it is killed abruptly with a muted curse ("Shit.") that sounds all the worse for the fact it spoken by a british tongue, and the brits always seem to curse as if they mean it, rather than as a part of the conversation.

She's already stepping away as she pulls the pager away from her pocket, glancing at the lit display as her brow furrows briefly (sleep, apparently, was not in the order of things to be doing this night), glancing briefly at the assembled before turning on her heel with a muttered excuse (it's meaningless because she's said it a thousand times. It's likely a "pardon me" rather than anything else. Something subtle quiet and formal), dropping her cigarette to the ground to kill it beneath a shoe. Her hands and skin still smell of death, and it's not likely to improve, as she reaches for her cellphone to call into the number at which she'd been paged, making her way quickly to her car.

(ratchet)
wilt. more people. lots of people. redhead and girl on wheels and bike that breeds tremble in the depths of filthy coat that hides skinny form.

disappear.

shoulder against the wall, gaunt form folds, falling into comfortable (protective) crouch, flash of silver in hand breeds sound that clicks constant in state of terrified agitation at near running over someone who bleeds rage even on slender shape of luna’s rising. swallow. hard.

dark eyes peek up. dive down. it is not precisely a cower. it is expectant. No worry? always worry. especially when rumbling machine pulls up, and sends gaunt form around to put James between her and the man on the machine.

swallow. hard. (always answer.) “..ratchet. who you.”

(kemp)
"Ratchet?" Was that ratchet or wracket? No he was the noise maker here. "Kemp, of course." Chucking his thumb at Rumor. "That's Random." Never saying her name right. "Heya James. Where ya been? Like my bike?" Off and running at the mouth now. "Isn't she sweet? Man, I still can't believe Midori bought it for me. I mean, look at it man!" Just about dancing on the seat. "Runs real fast too. And corners like you wouldn't believe."

(rumor)
She looks quietly at ratchet. A smile flashed that way. wonder if she took her advice on where the good food pickings were Hadnt seen her for a while, actually had forgotton about the odd one. But soon remembered the clickclickclickclick

Then her attention diverted to the dreaded guy. More dreads, like Roxys, only dark. And he was. wow.
Double take as she glances at James. Damnnnnnn.....The chirping of Imogens pager snapping her out of her teenage gaze and she watches Imogen quickly retreat to do whatever it is she does. Work with the dead, cop style. Hell she got a badge and shit. That couldnt suck...Rumor was sure she had a gun too, not that a few words alone from the redhead couldnt stop crime if need be.

A pause. Cheeks flush slightly and she turns her head quickly.
Shit i hope i didnt stare too long.

And Pimplefaces voice sends her gaze back to him, "Runs better when you arent smashing into things" she grins.mWatching him get all excited over the bike. He was cute too...she couldnt forget that, plus it was like frick n frack, bonnie n clyde, ren and stimpy (minus all the snot)
Turning her head back to James, "Rumor, not Random, pimp--- (Not in front of others) Kineval there just has some sort of problem with remembering my name"

(kemp)
Pausing right in the middle of his showing off the bike to blink at Rumor. "Right, Random, like I said. Anyway. I was thinking eventually I'll get a bigger bike, but for now, isn't this sweet?" Patting the tank between his legs. "I don't bite, much." Adding with a look to Ratchet. A quick scan to see what he could of her. Man, no tits? "Ain't seen you before."

(james)
chin lifts - Eagle style - and some impression forms over the lines of Totem phone
a familiarity in the greeting, objective reassurance of pack's close proximity
but the slender creature further accomplishing the disappearing act drags his attention around
he doesn't follow her movement, precisely
(she's trying so hard to HIDE)
it's more peering over his shoulder at her new position guarding his heels
(.... he'll... hope.....)
casually taking another drag off the Camel
(he can smell her agitation and the growing shadows of terror)

yeh, very much acting the beeeeeg protecting Ahroun from the sheer threat of.... Kemp.....
considering he's stopped the bike
he's probably far less of a danger, really

James keeps the amused thought very much to himself
pawning it off through the wave for Imogen's departure
(like that was out of the ordinary)
following the Rotagar's avalanche of information for a moment
(more like catching up)
and giving poor ratchet a chance to adjust and relax

"Been 'roun'." scruffy as the Ahroun looks, resultant mess from work aside, the way he speaks is a far costlier affront to the decorum of contemporary society and the English language itself.... thick accent spawned from the gutters of New York butchering words further by the slur he's trying very hard to speak slowly enough to avoid, thus avoiding repeating himself to clarify for present company "S'a cool bike, bro... but learn'a dri'e this'n 'fore you think 'bout more horsepow'r."

that might even be a chiding smirk, thereabouts

"Jame'z."

on the wings of a half-apologetic chuckle to Rumor
since Kemp took care of introductions
there's a hand offered in semblance of formality
dark inks catching the light as right arm extends
hands that could crush bone through a shake tempered to little more than firm
palms mapped by thick callouses brought by a life that's been anything but easy

that done - he turns back to ratchet to repeat the introduction
hand stopping before it gets too close
(he doesn't want to scare her)
letting her choose to shake or sniff or completely ignore

(rumor)
Damn. It was getting a bit chillier as it was getting later. The gnawer kin felt slight goosebumps begin to raise on her arms. Tank top did not cover much, and sun was now gone. Untying the lightweight flannel shirt from around her waist she puts it on leaving it open.

Jamez she nods and shakes his hand...now completely in control and certainly not staring. It just caught her off guard, was all.
"Nicetameetcha" she nods and points a finger at Kemp. "More horepower would be a badddd thing, hed embed himself in a manure truck before the week was out"
a chuckle and James tends to the scared one.

Rumor moving to Kemp now...a grin. "See you managed to stay alive these past few days, lucky huh?" she grins and messes his hair quickly before taking a step back. Cant swipe at her if hes balancing on the bike.
"dont forget you still owe me a swim" she smirks "Plus....i got something kick ass to show you...when you arent so busy"
Now her excitement is showing, like his was about the bike. "Seriously.."

(ratchet)
words flow around and swirl and kemp talks more then steven and its a slow blink that covers dark eyes for fraction of a second before sullen glare watches again.

guard the ryha’s heels.
sound is steady, constant clock as thumb slides over nub in agitated caress, drawing comfort from favored tool, toy, namesake. head cants – animalistic, watching. Kemp. RandomRumor, James.

blink at hand. touch, on street, means a multitude of things primarily pain. hopefully trust. it takes a moment, nostrils flare, before silver slides from one hand to the other, and right lifts to touch James palm quickly, leaving dirty smear in wake of just as fast retreat.

“new.” reply to kemp before dark eyes flick up, meet his, then back down again. murmuring “diner man said look for james rhya with viney hair and funny talk.” pause. “you?”

(kemp)
Frowning with the lack of support for a bigger bike from Rumor. Then the messing with his hair really brought on a scowl. "Watch the hair!" Like the wind hadn't made the shaggy mess look wild already. The frown turning to a look of interest for a moment for Rumor's show and tell. Boobs maybe? Then his attention was back on Ratchet hiding there behind his packmate. A slow easy grin showing. "Me what? Me Kemp, remember?" Nostrils flaring slightly with his lean forward over the handle bars.

(tristan)
Long steps seem to devour the ground, carrying the lean form down the walk toward the group at the other end. He’s been following a certain kids random path through the city for a while – it’s not TOO hard to do, really, the trail of obsenities and horn blowing and casual flip offs flow in the wake of his boy on his bike. Amused now, as he sees the bike has pulled over momentarily – most likely momentarily at anyrate, because he knows well the boys obsession.

Hand tucked into pocket, the other occupied in lifting cigarette to lips and letting it fall to tap ashes to the cement, before lifting again. In something of a good mood – though there’s a lingering worry under skin. Shake it off, pretty boy – and say hello to your family – hand reaches up, and musses Kemp’s hair. “What was that? mess with your hair?” good natured grin, nod up for his bro and rumor. “Someone forget to invite me to the party?”

(steven)
*He'd let Jo use the truck tonight and she'd dropped him off at work. The shift ended a bit early. Slow night on the drive though. So he hits the door heading out into the evening.
Dressed like most of the people in his profession in the stanard ugly ass uniform. Black pants, a green and yellow button up shirt that has a name tag reading "WELCOME TO O'TOLLYS, MY NAME IS STEVE on his head is the ballcap, green with the big yello "O'" on it, long sandy blond hair pulled though the back of it. In his right hand he has a bag fulla gutbusters. About the only perk of working at a fast food joint. You can raid the old burgers out of the window when you bail for the night. In his other hand he's got one of those Huge gulps, the big ol 64 oz ones filled with pepsi. He's sucking on that as he looks around* Where you at this evening BettyJo?

(james)
"May teach'm 'ow a dri'e quicker'n pussy footin' it 'roun' a this thing."

winked at Rumor
James was, after all, a showman at heart

there's the illusion of a momentary pause as his gaze seems to... distance a little
conversation between him and packmate passing before it even really began
such is the convenient of TotemPhone
makes it real easy to clarify where others stand before discussion continues

drawing back to ratchet's soft, soft murmuring
chin dips in a nod as the raggedyman drops to crouch
palm folding over the dirty smear of her greeting
as if to cradle the effort of her contact (trust) in strong hand

"Yeh.... tha's me." he voice isn't any louder than ratchet's murmur, but it's flavored with easy (lopsided) grin "BeeGee Eld'r at'cher service."

(rumor)
"Oh i watched the hair..its all over the place" she chuckles and drops the board once more. Circling around the bike.
push push coast push push coast.
Her secret finding ignored. And that was the last shed mention it. Fuck that.
Head turns as Tristan repeats the hair game. Making her smirk more.
"Hey there, it was an impromtu party...but you did almost miss Kineval here face plant into a truck" she grins.

(kemp)
"Oh man, not the hair mom!" Once more finger combing his hair down with a frown. Waving the smell of smoke away. "Gonna give me cancer." The standard response to Tristan's smoking. "Second hand smoke kills faster than first. Surgeon general says so." Shooting Rumor another glare for ratting on him like that.

(spider)
Everything is spirit. Everything has a spiritual residue, leaving a shadowy trace upon the umbral reflection of this world. For those that know how to manipulate that spiritual ether, very little remains hidden. Particularly the presence of a Garou in Tribal territory.

Across the Gauntlet, umbralside, Spider watched the gathering through the convenience of a lo-tek weaver device, making sure that everything stayed in order. True to his tribe.

(ratchet)
viney haired man crouches and head tips slightly, gaze dropping to hand, and when he doesn’t wipe grime away, head ducks a little to hide any expression, before dark eyes peek up again. head cants, slight, and voice still soft. “ratchet. little nomoon gnawer cliath. said to meet you. me and..”

gaze fades much as his does, before huff of annoyance. ~not name! ratchet!~ before ~meeting gnawer elder here. come too? bring food? ratchet hungry. boy almost runned me over, dropped food.~

and back to James. “steven comes too. steven smart. pack.”

(steven)
I'll come. Have food for sister.
*Steven takes a moment to concentrate. Feels the link beteween he and his packmate more than some might. Sniffs the air a bit and turns. Heading "that" way at a stroll. His sneakers eating up the ground in an effortless stride.*

(julian easter)
He locks his place up for the evening, deciding to go out and get a little air. It couldn't hurt could it? Besides he had to get down to buisiness, and didn't wanna find himself locked up in his place night, and day.

So with a flick of the wrist, he twirls his keys in one finger then stuffs them in his pocket. THe first place his eyes go are up, looking over each building as he passes. However one cannot decide on where to go when they have no clue what path they will take to get there.

So he finally lowers his eyes back to earth, and with that notoriously charming smile of his he heads straight ahead. There has to be something entertaining to do with ones evening in a city this large.

(tristan)
He just laughs, and watches James deal with the little.... girl? woman? streetkid? before hooking an arm around Kemp’s neck and planting a kiss on his cheek. “A truck, huh? you were wearing your helmet weren’t you....” standard mom response to his almost killing himself over and over.

a wink for Rumor. “What’s this I hear about a special place to go see and get into trouble at? and swimming? How come no one ever invites me? damn. straight boys get ALL the action...”

(rumor)
Yeah and she could save his ass too with her remarks.
"wore the helmet and missed the truck." a grin, "thing came out of nowhere ... thinkin it ran a red light...Uberquick reflexes had him swerve and miss a near collision" grinning back to the glare.
(adds)
"first, he invited me to this swimming thing, but never actually showed me where it was, so im thinkin it was all a line-o-crap"
she chuckles. Still circling around the bike. Push push coast.
"and my place...well he was uninterested...but ill take ya for SURE...ya gotta check it out...its bitchin"
She stops and thinks..."but wait, you board, or ride, or anything? Hell doesnt matter, theres something for everyone!"

(kemp)
Just about to say something when Rumor piped up and actually managed to stump him for a moment. Mouth moving a few times like the words were stuck before getting out. "Uh."

(james)
"Nice a meetcha, Ratch't." breif glance and widening grin shot towards Tristan, but he doesn't let attention stray from the little Ragabash for long, carrying on in the name of officiality: "Fos'rn, Full Moon."

not that it wasn't, y'know, obvious
but James isn't the type to ignore the convention of dignifying another's efforts
exhaling the last bit of smoke pointedly awaaay from ratchet
then flicking the butt to the nearby gutter

(kemp)
One thing he didn't do was lie. Why lie when the truth was so much better at times? Especially with his gift for latching onto something obscure and blowing the hell out of it. And he never, ever lied to Tristan. So this was one of those times that Uh was about all he said.

(rumor)
Quick whisper to Tristan as the circling around the bike get him close to the pretty boi
(rumor)
to Tristan: "Holy shit, he is family" nod to James. "now thats one hottie"
no intentions on pursuing something as rediculous as the fostern going for a 15 year old, certainly not, she had her eyes on Kemp..even if he ANd she didnt know it...but who can resist eye candy when it is offere

(ratchet)
nod, sharp, animalistic, quick. hands lift, fingers dig behind ear, scratch, hat dislodging slight and quickly pulled over odd-shaped ear, tugged low again before scratching shoulder. hip. ass. and folding again around knees, press of chest tight to bony limbs. “diner man say you ok. elder an stuff. so if James need ratchet or steven or pack james barking chain. ratchet come.”

trust. on the words of others, she offers aid when needed. though nose wrinkes. “ratchet small, but strong. smart. fix anything. fix steven’s cooker. he make eggos! you like eggos?” syrupy goodness was inhaled just that morning, scent of maple still on chin, jaw.

sudden duck of head. lots of words for quiet ragabash.
clicks bloom, but slow and steady. totemphone. ~think elder is good gnawer. speak soft. crouch at level with ratchet though ratchet monster.~

(julian easter)
He seems to be whistling to himself. His smile is almost sickeningly cheerful. The bright look on his face is almost too pleasant to be trusted. Still he mannages, he is young, healthy, and full of life.

Clean cut, and nicely dressed, though not too nice. A light brown suede jacket covers him, with a black t-shirt underneath. Blue jeans, and fairly new tennish shoes. Nothing fancy, nothing of any particular note, just nice.

He keeps on his ever forward path, flashing a smile to those he passes. Sometimes even stopping to say hello to complete strangers. Saking them about the weather. It is as if he were born in a small town, and felt some compulsion to say hello to everyone he meets.

He even stops to help an old lady across the street, and is thanked with an akward stare as the woman turns the other way to wander off.

Taking that with a shrug, and a smile he crosses the street in her stead, muttering an obscenity or two under his breath. Hey he was trying to be nice? Last thing we need is the fire department having to scrape old woman off the street rather than having to deal with a real emergency.

(tristan)
“Sorry, don’t bike or board – I’m not where near graceful enough for that kind of shit. And I think you’d both have too good a time laughing at me falling down...”

Broad grin and wink offered to his brother, before watching the teenagers banter back and forth and rumor do the unthinkable – cause Kemp to be speechless..... leaning into the whisper and cracking up with a nod. “I agree. 100%. All the way around.” a wink, and then back to Kemp. “Cat got your tongue there, boyo? never seen any girl render you speechless.....”

(steven)
*Adding though the alleys and blocks between them Steven closes in on his packmate. Humming to himself as he goes. Pausing in an alley about a block off to releive himself, he zips up and heads on towards where she'd pulled him.
You're not a monster Ratchet. You're my sister. You're a good garou. I'm almost there.
He turned the corner a block off and sees a group of people. Hurm... heading that way he lets his spring blue eyes travel over each, Guy on a bike, girl on a board, another guy, kinda pretty in that monkey way, big guy crouching by little sister. Seems this was the place. Stevens strides bring him closer. The smell of burgers and frys preceeding him.*

(rumor)
She smirks and chuckles.
push push coast. push push coast. Making her way around the bike and the kid on it.
Turning back to Tristan with a wink. "Oh believe me theres even more to do, ya dont haveta bike or board...this place is like findin a goldmine..but pimpl" (not in front of others..) pause..."Kineval here didnt wanna see it, so what can i say, but ill show ya tomorrow...shoudlnt go there at night anyways"
a pause and now a quick whisper to Kemp as she approaches him in the circling...

(kemp)
"Oh you're graceful enough. I seen some of the positions you twist into." Rolling his eyes at Tristan. Unable to hold in a smile. He didn't get to see mom as much as he'd like to. "And no, no girl made me speechless. That's just Random."

(james)
whatever oddies her scratching seems to uncover
or whatever means she quickly enacts to cover it back up again
James doesn't seem to pay it any mind
ear lent towards the small Ragabash
though he's still somewhat paying attention to the others
meeting her offer with an easy smile

"Yeeeeaaaah, love eggo's. 'precia'e more y'r off'r a help - you'll hear fr'm me." head cants, sending dreads slanting off one shoulder tipped with black-ashed scars, smelling the burgers and fries faaar before seeing the guy carrying them "Tha' Steven?"

(tristan)
He snorts, and shakes his head. “Thought you were sleeping the night Roxy came home to stay...” oh that grin slides wiiiiiiiiiiiicked. and he just winks, chuckling. Glance to Rumor, and a nod. “Sure – I’ll go tomorrow. maybe the stubborn one here will finally give me a ride on the bike and we’ll both come.. what do you say boyo? let me cuddle close for a ride?” Teased – he agrees. Don’t get to spend near as much time together as they used too. damn bike. stealing his boy away....

(kemp)
Turning his head to watch Rumor circle till she whispered. A shake of his head before reaching behind himself for the helmet on the back of the seat. "Naw, not tonight. I got things I gotta do." Plopping the helmet down on his head. "Gotta go do my rounds." A nod up to James again. Quick hug for Tristan. Not afraid to show open affection for him. "Sure, I'll take you tomorrow. Think you can handle it?" A wiggle of his brows. Then he was nodding towards Ratchet. "Nice to meet ya." He'd been very good and had curbed his usual forward ways because the girl was busy hiding. "See ya tomorrow Random. I gotta get." A nod up for Rumor and he was backing the bike away to start it with a kick. Green eyes slipping over the new arrival before he was taking off. Shooting over the phone. Yell if ya need me.

(ratchet)
nod, slight, at that, though there’s not quite a grin, as head cants and gaze shifts following the scent of food.

sniff. sniffsniff.

sharp nod. “steven. bring food. want some?” brother. packmate. brings food – nothing more could be asked for. waits until he gets closer, before unfolding, and quick steps carry slightly hunched form to make the distance disappear, slipping under arm knows will be offered, face buried against steven’s chest, breath deep, before turning. grab of free hand, and tug, pulling steven closer, faster, and falling again to crouch before elder man. “steven. james. elderman.”

hopeful look at bag....

(rumor)
She chuckles..."you gonna get ON that thing with him?" she shakes her head..."make SURE you take something for your stomache though, if he doesnt give ya whiplash with the turns, youll get nautious for sure"
She had been on the back of that thing...
Roxy....the girl withthe dreads who cooked, fixed cars, and had bigger balls then most.
Stayed...
Tristan twisted in positions...
Kemp said Tristan was gay. Ok drop it, she had NO idea what the hell kinda reality show sitcom these eagles were involved in, but shed just wait and watch to see who got off the short bus next...

"we'll see if ya show up big guy" she winks.

(tristan)
Laughs and shakes his head. “You don’t have anything I can’t handle boyo. Be careful on that thing, huh?” Followed by warm hug, never afraid to show affection, especially for his kid.

And at Rumor’s confused look, he laughs and arches a brow. “You look confused there kiddo...” spit it out – he’s virtually unoffendable, after all.

(steven)
*His arm is indeed extended to her. Hugging her close and kissing her brow. THe bag given over effortlessly and he sips on his huge gulp as he's lead over. Gently scraching Ratchets back he looks betweent he people there then lowers his eyes respectfully. Switching the big gulp to his left hand he drys his right on the O'Tollys shirt and offers it to James* Nice ta meet cha.

(rumor)
She shrugs..."Pimpleass" (yes she was dumbass to him, he was pimpleass to her, and no she wouldnt call him that in front of the others, like he asked, unless of course...he had GONE already)
"Said you were gay" she says it like its no big deal...casue it wasnt..."which was a shame n all, cause just means another one gone forever" a shrug and she just pushes randomly up and down in a figure 8. "So, hearing him talk about you and the blonde all twisted up...made me kinda wonder, either he was fuckin with me, or Roxys a transvestite" she shrugs.
"regardless, and nonetheless, its no matter to me" she chuckles and blows a grape bubble
pop
Tristan asked, she answered.

(julian)
He stops at another corner, and lifts his hand. Pulling the sleeve up to look at his watch, and shrugging to himself.

When the light changes he crosses yet another street. Looking up, and down the street as he does. Wanting to get to know this place the best he can. Which shouldn't be long, he has a knack for getting to know the streets in the area he lives.

After all, how the hell are you gonna get away if you don't know where the hell you are going?

(james)
the banter of the kin and Rotagar gets his attention to stray
brow quirking upwards... maybe he should have paid a little more attention
nevertheless, he tosses another nod up after Kemp
Will do, kid

that timed with ratchet's dart for the safety of pack
he takes the moment to go from crouch to ass-planted-firmly-on-cement
(slinging stock is a damn tiring thing to do for hours on end, even for an Ahroun!)
long lumbar lines pressed up against convenient brick wall
arm extending, er, up for Steven's salutory shake

"Pleasure' mine." framed by an easy, yet lopsided, grin - let's just get this out of the way now, Jamey-boy - speaking so it's pretty much meant for Steven alone "Jukebox. Drums n Skulls. Fos'rn full moon a Eagle n...." this part rolling on a soft laugh that formed somewhere in his chest, dreads swinging as head tips towards ratchet's provision of information ".... BeeGee Eld'r."

that fucking introduction is getting longer and longer and longer.....

(tristan)
He chokes on inhalation and laughs, shaking his head as he mixes laughter and coughing for a few minutes, cigarette flicked into the gutter. There’s a glance at James and the newcomer, and the scurry of the little street rat, before catching his breath and nodding to Rumor.

“I am gay, Roxy’s a really good friend of mine, and got me drunk and took advantage once. It’s a matter of great amusement among the eagles, some of whom hoped I’d been ‘fixed’ of my little problem. But I’m still less fashionably challenged then all the rest.” winks.

(ratchet)
..hand snatches bag with hum of appreciation, crouched she still manages to seem smaller then either of them, even when James is sitting and leaning agianst the wall. bag set before feet, dirty hands digging inside of still warm bag, first wrapped burger and fries found offered without hesitation to elderman. it’s the way it should be. next is offered to steven, and when they have taken first bite, only then does starving waif unwrap one and start to shove greasy burger into mouth.

shovebitechewswallow.

clicks are silent now, though sliver ratchet is still in hand, seen between bites, under cuff of too long coat.

(steven)
*Steven looks up to James eyes for a moment during the intro so he'd know that he was listening then lowered them again. Looks to Tristan and Rumor and smiles a bit, then starts to scrich ratchets back. His own voice very low. Barly over a whisper* Steven Card, Fastball, Ragabash of the Gnawers. Member of the Whirlwind. Twisters chosen.
*A nod to Ratchet* Brother of Ratchet here. Hope we're not infringing on turf man?
*He takes one of the gutbusters and smiles unwrapping it. Flicking the tomato and lettuce to Ratchet and taking a bite*

(julian easter)
He reaches into a pocket as he crosses yet another street. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, and going to his pocket for a light. As he walks across he can be seen patting all of his pockets once by one. He finds nothing, and curses himself silently.

With a sigh he looks up ahead, seeing Tristan, and Rumor gathered he decides to ask either of them. So he finishes his crossing of the street, and calls out."Hey, either of you two got a light? I seem to have left mine behind somewhere."He smiles, it is hard for him not to. That grin of his playful, and charming as ever. Friends, or strangers, it did not matter. He seemed to enjoy everyone's company alike. At least on the surface, he would try to.

(rumor)
She thinks and nods..."oh..ok" And that was that. Made perfect sense to her. "Probably a good reason to not drink alcohol...never know who youll end up with, right?" a grin.
Ok so Roxy wasnt a transvestite...fair enough. Worked for her.
Like Kemp had said, she just blurts things out before thinking sometimes, and doesnt apologize for it. Now flipping the board into her hand she looks over at Tristan, and is in range that unless someone was purposely trying to eavesdrop, it was just a one on one type covneresation, not to say she was whispering, but there was enough go0in on she wasnt worried.

"So whats pimpleass's problem, he just like pickin on me enough to keep me around to annoy, but then every time he actually plans to go do something fun... (TROUBLE probably) he bails" a shrug. She does not sound like some crush-ridden sex starved wannaboyfriend girl, instead more of a ..why does frack leave when the adventure is bout to begin...or why does Tom Sawyer bail right when Huck finn comes up with the idea.

a pause..."hes a funy one yaknow...great ideas...(chaos and trouble!) Not so good on the follow through" she grins.
She glances up...

"No sorry..."no light here, she was one of the few who didnt smoke...wait.
packrat.
She had everything in those pockets of hers.
"actually here" she pulls a pack of matches from some random bar she had found at some point out of overalls and tossed them to the voice.
"Keep em i dont need em"

(james)
ooh. burger. fries.
color James a happy camper

"Thank'." nod of appreciation for ratchet's offer of food - one boot reaches out and nudges Tristan's, getting the kinsman to turn, and then James does what most would think, well, unthinkable for an Elder in this day and age, he splits the burger in half, rewraps part, and tosses it up to the prettyboi, fries in turn offered to Rumor, before he continues on "Nuh.... our turf's riv'rsi'e... here's share' by a few gangs."

slang infused for proper garouly terms upon Julian's arrival
he gets a nod, since James isn't one to speak with his mouth fu....

.... where DID his half of the burger go?
(gone baby... in.haled.)

(leroy)
VAAARRRROMmmmm ZZOoooommm

Down the corridors of the city's streets. A double stacked florescent headlight beamed through the night. The Black BMW K1200RS scretched down one street before another. The yellow jacket Bell Helmet wearing mountain upon its back twisting and swerving this way and that upon the large crotch-rocket.

(tristan)
He chuckles and nods, slightly. “Kemps a good kid, but a bit gunshy about girls. bring him nothing but heartache, you know. He’s still mourning the last relationship, though don’t tell him I said so. He doesn’t like to talk about it. But he’s fun – and when he follows through, he’ll probably surprise you. Just take it slow with him, and you’ll be fine. obviously he likes you enough to hang out – that says a lot for my boy.”

Julian walks up and hands dig for lighter, but Rumor beats him to the punch. flash of grin suffices as hello for him then.

blink at the nudge, and he looks down at his bro, and grins, catching the offer. “Thanks, bro.” winked, and he unwraps the gift with a nod toward ratchet and steven. “Appreciate it...”

inhalation to rival his brothers, commences.

(rumor)
Fries from the *swoons* elder. Cheeks flush she catches them and nods a thanks...she would SAY thanks, however, kermit the frog has taken residency in her throat and she seems to have lost her tongue.
cough cough
A quick glance to Tris, who knew exactly what she was thinking.
Hell she was 15, hormones ran through her like arabid waterfall. And James, not only plesant and charming, was eyecandy to the young teen.

(ratchet)
glance up as James further shares food with boy with curly hair and the other girl, head tipping slight. ~he share!~ incredulous, really, but in a good way. catches lettuce and tomato from steven, adds to burger, and continues until licking wrapper clean, fingers sucked into mouth and juices licked from them as well, before garbage ends up in one of many pockets, seemingly at random.

more fries grabbed before hmmmmmm increases. “remembered!” and from the bottom cherry pie is pulled out, box pried open and with a moments thought, piece broken off and offered James, before sugary delight disappears into starving waif’s gullet.

(leroy)
That headlight engulfs the gathered crowd from afar. A block down the bike guns its engine towards them. Closer, closer. Lightpoles, letterboxes, parking meters pass him. Its these moments he feels like he's a pilot taking off from the Battlestar Galactica

shishishishishaaawum!

And then the bike came to a screaching halt near them. Its massive engine purring a soft mutter as the mountain of a man. Obviously black by the color of his skin wearing only a t-shirt and faded blue-jeans; lifted to raise the visor of his helmet. LeRoy's voice muffled from it. "Whats up bro? Where's lilt broken eart?" Glancing around for Kemp after finding James and them.

(steven)
*Steven watches the interplay among those here. Taking another bite of hs burger and chewing slowly. Kept him from needing to talk. A nod to James' words though. He caught their meaning.
Sucking his teeth a bit he sniffs the air and looks around and back to James and Ratchet.
A nod to Ratchets mental observation. Hand dips and Suddenly there is a Wrapped Gutbusterburger gently lobbed in LeRoy's direction. Food on the wing*

(tristan)
He cracks up at Rumor’s sudden loss of voice, and arches a brow, his grin un.re.pent.ant. as he wiggles his brows at her, and stage whispers. “you think he’s hot now, should see him in just a towel after a shower.”

oh. that aughta help.

Cue innocent look as he grins up at LeRoy. “Hey Butta...”

(julian)
He takes the matches, and gives rumor a smile. Stepping back a step or two closer to the edge, though still facing them both.

He lights his cigarette to calm his nerves, and looks up and down the street, before looking back to both of them. They didn't seem particularly harmful, and he was out to try to find people. He figured he would try to start somewhere.

He looks first to every face, not wanting to single anyone out or leave them thinking he is trying to ignore anyone.

"So you guys live around here?"Sure it wasn't the perfect way to start up a chat with complete strangers, however he had little to go off from what he knew about them, and all he needed was one interesting little hint to get a full blown conversation going. He was nice enough looking that he could be thought of as little more than a good looking tourist, looking to meet people. There is no harm in that is there?

(james)
"Yeh met these two ye'?"

yet another Eagle-style nod up towards Tristan and Rumor
as the question is directed to Steven and ratchet
one big ol' smile delivered at his battle buddy
Julian's question answered with a shake of his head and offhand wave in the general Riversidely direction
mouth currently occupied with the offered piece of pie

which also serves purpose to delivering another nudge - kick - to Tristan's ankle instead of any snapped remark

(julian)
LeRoy's arrival is duely noted. As it should be. The large man catches the smaller man's attention. He was not quite large enough to be concidered intimidating. Of pretty average build, and size, so it is unsurprising that LeRoy would catch his eye a moment or two. The man was large, and the bike he was on made enough noise that it would alert one to his presence even more. The man was far from unnoticable, so it was that simple fact that caused Julian to look his direction.

It was not long however before he looksed back to the crowd he had been more or less attempting to speak to.

(tristan)
YELPS as he’s kicked by his brother, but the grin is STILL unrepentant as he winks that direction, and then toward Julian. “Nah – hang more riverfront way, just wandering tonight. yourself?”

and then at James’ words, shakes his head, switches position with still stunned Rumor, and crouches down beside his brother. “Haven’t had the pleasure, I don’t think. I’m Tristan. James here is my bro.” Hand offered to ratchet and Steven.

(leroy)
Both hands rise to catch, befuddle nearly drop but finally capture the tossed burger. A muffled chuckle, burger raised in triump. A bellow of muffled laughter is emmitted first before more muffled words. "Hiya lova" Giving a wink through the visor slat towards Tristan. Attention drawn upon ..rachet..and Steven. "Why is everyone try'n to feed me lately? Am I loose'n weight?" Glancing down at his belly with a hearty chuckle before back to the two. Steven and ..rachet.."Hiya Vicious" Another muffled greet. "Where's the playboy?" He asked James again. Attention falling upon him as the bike idled in place

(ratchet)
Shakes head slightly, before looking up at the voice. “diner man!” toward Leroy. before looking back at james and at the boy with pretty curls in hair. head cants. sharp – animalistic, before hand is looked at. look between him and james, before briefly hand sticks out, touches tristan’s and pulls back again, leaving smudge in it’s wake.

“met other. rumor. before. tell me where find diner man’s dumpster for good food.”

(julian)
He gives a nod to Tristian's answer, and takes another slow drag off his cigarette. Exhaling off to the side before answering."Actually just moved in a ways down the street. FInally got settled in, and decided it was time to see what this city had to offer."He smiles to each person, before looking to Tristian who seemed to be the only one really speaking."I gotta start somewhere right?"

(steven)
*Steven smiles to LeRoy and nods a bit* Just being hospitable and respectful man.
*Handing Ratchet the huge gulp so she could drink some pepsi he finishes his own burger and balls up the foil and drops it in the bag.
Hand going to scrinch Ratchets back. A shake of his head to James query, he'd not met them. A sile to Tristan and Rumor. Hand offered* Steven. Nice to meet you.

(james)
"Makin' roun's."

finally, after a chew and swallow
further commentary to ratchet and Steven waved off with a half-chuckle
Tristan taking over the introductory responsibilities
he's beginning to lose his position as Eagle PR guy, it seems

(tristan)
He smiles at ratchet, and much like his brother, closes his hand over the dirty smudge offered to his palm. “Nice to meet you. you ever need James and can’t find him, you look for me, ok? Usually on a corner playing music.”

A nod to steven, hand grasped briefly “Same for you. If you can’t find someone, I usually know what direction to look in.” Networked pretty boy, that’s for sure. And then he’s standing again with a look at the little... girl? and her brother, before hand tugs on James’ dreads, fondly. Turning back to Julian.

“Exactly – never get anywhere holed up in your own room. So looking for anything or one in particular? Kinda pride myself in knowing what’s happening where, or being able to find out...”

(ratchet)
food devoured, soda grabbed, sniffed at, before several swallows taken, quickly, and offering it back, leaning into the scratching at her back with humm of appreciation. flash of silver sees sound renewed, though soft, random [content. steven understands.]

“music?” in Tristan’s direction, gaze briefly lifting to James’ before falling again, respectful.

~music man has pretty curls. ratchet want curls like that.~

(rumor)
Towel.
After shower.
check please
Face turns red. Not that hue of a cute healthy blush. No, more of a did i forget to put my pants on today before i walked out the house.
never rendered speechless
this time just caught off guard. Now twice.

Must snap out of it.
No notice to the kick, nor the others there now. Head fuzzy. Just from embarassement. Embarassment could do so much to someone, especially when its someone who normally plays the smartass role, the prankster, the tomboyesque girl who didnt have a care in the world.
Towel...after a shower.
check please

She coughs once more...board hits ground.
-to Tristan- "ill swing by the factory tomorrow, i gotta go, have stuff to do"
To the others..."later peeps"
To James...
"have fun making rounds...thanks for the fries"
-pause-

have fun making rounds? what the FUCK was that? have fun making rounds...Jesus H christ cuold she look like a bigger dumbass at this particular moment.

Time to go and take the beet red face with her. She wouldnt make the same mistake again, next time, shed be just fine.

(leroy)
"Ah.." Raising the burger in a gesture of thanks towards Steven. Attention returned upon James. "Well shiet" Muffled from the visor. "Wanted tae race em" Chuckling. The helmet was removed. A task in and of itself for sure as LeRoy's head was almost to big to fit to begin with. The burger unwrapped and in a single bite, half was gone. Another and it was all being chewed just once before swallowed. The paper wrapper however was crumpled up and pushed into his back pocket. Hands wiped themselves upon his jeans as he tried to coax the burger remains down without drink. Another moment and the helmet was returned. "Lata then fellas.." Muffled as he gunned the engine high and fast and shot off down the street like a rocket.

(steven)
*He watches the interchange and nods to Tristian. Always good to know who to go to and stuff. Listening he watches Rumor blush and sniffs the air a bit. Brows perking. She was leaving and he takes back the drink from Ratchet. Looking over to LeRoy.
We can ask Jo, she might know how to do that with hair.

Then LeRoy was gone and Steven tilts his head. A bit baffeled, looking to James*

(rumor)
A quick glance to Tristan as she heads off on the board
push push coast...

"Let Pimpleass know we are goin tomorrow, so he doesnt make plans to go crash his bike or somethin"
muttered as she heads off

(julian)
He keeps that smile on his face all the time. Polite, and never in any way does he appear to lock down or scorn anyone. He is the kind of guy who tries to get along with everyone.

His plan appears to be working so far, as he hasn't been shoved aside, or ignored."Well I wasn't lookin' for anything in particular. Just thought I would head out, and what do you know? You guys seemed friendly enough. I thought maybee I would get a drink, meet a few new people, then head back home to catch a little sleep."He grins to Tristan."These things aren't exactly the kind of things you write up an agenda for. They kinda just happen."

He looks to Rumor as she goes, and holds up his matches."Hey thanks!"He calls out to her. Waving them a little before tossing them back into his pocket.

(james)
head cants, giving into the playfully fond tug on his dreads
lip curling, mock snarl chasing after the kinsman
but any show of his inner beast dissolves into a low chuckle in the back of his throat

exactly. nobody other than Tristan could do such a thing and keep his hand

"Plays vi'lin...." answering ratchet's curiosity ".... 'n I play drums." then that smile turns to Rumor, decidedly and casually not making note of her sudden discomfort "Take care ya'sel', Rum'r."

(julian)
He keeps that smile on his face all the time. Polite, and never in any way does he appear to lock down or scorn anyone. He is the kind of guy who tries to get along with everyone.

He looks to Rumor as she goes, and holds up his matches."Hey thanks!"He calls out to her. Waving them a little before tossing them back into his pocket.

(ratchet)
slight jump back at the growl and snap toward tristan, until elderman laughs, and head tips. affection something unused to, though steven hugs and scratches and stuff for her.

~jo probably make ratchet take bath first. no bath.~

then brow creases with thought, looking up at James again. “drums and... villin?” glance to steven. drums she knows, but the other confuses her.

(steven)
*Steven smiles and looks down* Violin. Like a fiddle.
*He nods and softly strokes her head, hat and hair*

She probably would at that. Baths arn't that bad. She makes me take them too.

(tristan)
He chuckles and nods to julian. “Well, I’m friendly, but that one there bites, as you can see.” jerk of head toward James, with a grin. As rumor runs off, blushing. “I’ll make sure he’s ready, Rumor! we’ll see you then!”

Hard not to like the pretty boy when he’s in his element. street corner meet and greets seem to suit him just fine, though his bro is still the pack PR man.

(julian)
He smiles to James."He bites does he? Well I don't mind, just don't get any blood on the jacket. These things cost a fortune."He chuckles, speaking more to both Tristan, and james, though his eyes are directed at James for the moment.

It is not long before he offers his hand to Tristan."Names Julian, and you are?"

(james)
fingers hit his brow and snap off a salute to LeRoy's departure
(good Gaia almighty he's gonna get Kemp killed by racing him)
looking back to Twister's pair with a soft chuckle
nodding at the translation

"Jaw broke 'n dunn heal right." head tips so dreads fall away, and fingers tap the left line of rugged features, highlighting the notches in structure connecting to scar tissue which hitches normal movement of muscle and tendon "S'why I speak funny. Dun' ev'r be 'fraid a askin' me a repeat stuff, 'right?"

brows lift a little towards ratchet
since questioning an Elder is normally social suicide
(at least to someone that has been through what she seems to have...)
attention finally swings around to Julian, mostly because of Tristan's biting comment
followed through with a laugh as hands are held up in innocent surrender
even if deep umber eyes evenly hold the other man's gaze
(moon's a sliver in the sky, but your Rage is still so volatile, Jamey-boy)

"No worry, man, I c'n respec' 'nother's threads." quipped with showman's easy smile, then after the others shake, he stretches to join in jumping through salutation's hoops "James."

(ratchet)
rocks back on heels a little, leaning into the scratch, the pet of fingers over hair and hat, reaching up to make sure ears are still covered. all while staring at elderman.

question him?
blink.
(clickclickclick. clickclickclick. click.)

“....kay.” acceptance of the suggestion, the request that she question if need be, and nods, slight, though voice drops to whisper to steven. “like fiddle... what’s a fiddle?”

(steven)
*Steven smiles softly and nods to James, but he doesn't quite make eye contact. He knows his place. Softly scraching Ratchets back he blinks and looks to her* Um.. stringed instriment played by rubbing a bow across the strings and changing notes by holding or not holding a series of the strings to change the resonance of them as the bow is drawn across.
*He mimics playing one a moment. Maybe the movment will clue her in*

(tristan)
Hand easily stretches to slide into Julian’s, grip strong, but not as strong as some. but certainly not pansy either. “Tristan, Tristan Stern. Pleased to meetcha, Julian. That there, the biting one, is my bro” he pauses as James makes his own intro, grinning at him.

then to the others. “steven there, and his little sister ratchet. See – thought you’d meet only a couple, now have a whole 4 under your belt. it’s your lucky night.”

(julian)
He grins back to James. His own eyes look the man over. A simple assessment of the man, nothing that could be taken as hostile or threatening. A man needs to know who he is talking to, and the size, and bearing of a man often gives you quite an advantage in deciding just how to approach him.

James seems to hold some kind of status within the group. Tristan seems to be the mouth, and the others? He isn't quite sure about them. However it shouldn't take too long to figure that much out.

Getting a responce from James is a good thing, and his smile only brightens as he exhales once again. Smoke drifting up into the sky, and dissapearing into the night. He looks back to Tristan, and waits, he seems quite patient. The tinge of rage felt by others doesn't seem to bother this man in any way whatsoever. He is just as comfortable as can be. He could be in a dark alley being mugged, or stuffing dollar bills down a dancers underware, and he would still be wearing that smile.

He looks around, and there appears to be a tiny little spark of mischeif in those eyes. It isn;t likely that it is directed at the others, however this guy is just a little too harmless looking.
He nods back to Tristan."Four people in just under an hour. Must be a new record."He nods to Steven, and Ratchet, but offers a hand to James first."Nice to meetcha..."

(ratchet)
blinks. watching steven. the words are odd, but the movement and something clicks and she nods, ducking her head again. “oh – seen those. elder had friend who played one once.”

elder not held in high esteem. elder teach her she’s monster. elder teach with fists and hands and have many friends.

a shrug to get imagery out of head, before leaning slightly into steven again. comfort. pack. brother. (clickclickclickclick)

(steven)
*He looks to Julian and nods when introduced. Looking down at Ratchet he senses her agitation and softly rubs her back. Smiling he murmers* Check my pocket.
*When she does, she finds.. ohhhhh what a treasue, a second cherry pie. He was going to give it to her in the morning when she woke but it might calm her a bit* So... you're the top kick around here James? Anything you need done?

(james)
he could crush bones with that grip
tear away flesh by the rough callouses protecting palms
however, the shake for Julian is tempered to being cordial and polite
regardless of whether or not the guy seems too calm in the face of one ragey Ahroun, much less the three Gnawers combined
all in the name of PR maintenance, or something like that
face it, James is in a good mood, and it shows
doesn't mean he can't go six ways furry from Sunday in an instant if provoked
he's just far more comfortable parking it on the sidewalk with Steven and ratchet

there's a certain element of general "goodness" in being surrounded by Family....
especially when you're one Bone Gnawer packed up with a bunch of Fenrir
(and maybe it's a subdued effort, on his part, to gain poor ratchet's trust)

"Pleasure' mine."

then his head tips to the side
hands busying themselves with pulling the pack of Camel's from BDU pocket
taking one for himself, then offering to Steven and ratchet
(even if he doubts they smoke, it's ingrained into the Hood)
Tristan last on the list in ransom for his lighter

"Na'yet.... s'mos'ly keepin' y'r eyes 'n ears peel' 'n keepin' the lines open a th' rest've us."

(julian)
After Shaking James' hand, he moves to Steven, and then Rachet. Again he is careful not to offend, and the two looked close. He did not want the man to think he was after his woman if such were the case."Names Julian..."He says to Steven.

(ratchet)
she checks pocket, and humms delight, leaning against steven before contentedly digging flaky sweet dessert out of package and inhaling it. glance up at James, then to steven, and the boy with pretty curls, and the other one. head shakes at cigarettes, nose wrinkling a little, before pie is devoured and ratchet involved in sucking every last bit from dirty fingers.

jo’s going to make her take another bath soon. she just knows it.

(tristan)
Wink as he grabs the pick, and a cigarette, lighting up before lighter is easily offered in return to his bro. Inhale, and light chuckle, before to Julian. “So what do you do man?” idle conversation. this one

Posted by james at 12:00 AM

May 09, 2004

.05.09.04. - aggressive diplomacy [moot pt.7]

[the caern - forums - file - carryover from moot proper attending to matter of black unicorns/anarchy 99]

(summary)
(OK, Councilgarou. This is something that came up early in the moot, when not too many of the Council was on. It needs to be settled. Please post your reactions below.)

As one, the knights step forward, to face those gathered.

The hulking mass of LeRoy stepped forward another step. His continance was sober as it was sombering. The life of Gaia's heartfelt energies glinted meraculously within his gaze. Proud despite the somber of mood, he held his head high and powerful shoulders straight.

"An unfortunate as occured. Young David Hawthorne, born of Unicorn has fallen. By our able hands, unforgivingly driven has he been recieved into Gaia's bossom. It was not our intention. Yet still, it has occured. May Gaia forgive us as well as this young Spirit for the anger we spent unfortunately against her."

Slow his head pivots around taking in all sights and sounds. Faces as they watch him, whisperings should they be heard by him.

"Territory was ignored, Protocol thrown out the window. Young Hawthorne came to our house with a heart of teasing. Shaming our interest in who was visiting. We knew him not. Nor his reasons. When we inquired, he fleed our questions. To flight. While we persude. Indeed able of feet, for he evaded our long reach. Thus ruled by pride we set upon his heels. We upon four, he upon two. Still, quick cunning and able of foot, he never once shifted to elude us on many afoot. Needless to say, we captured him. Attempted once more to halt and question. Again, now twice he set to flight. No words, no reason to disuade our interest of him. To wound, cripple and set forth our reason we attempted yet again"

A pregnant pause.

"No wound yet had come forth, but as pack we struck as one. And as one we struck hard. Fragile, too fragile for us. For our Honor, we admittingly bit to hard. Fell did he, young David Hawthorne. Fell and breathed no more, for we struck him down to hard. A pitiful mistake. One we Knights shall long endure. We weep for the loss of Gaia's warrior. Flight of Feet was he..and in Honor we put his remains upon this Caern to be remembered as thus. A sacrifice for us all to recall and recant. May our territories be threatened. May our innocents be defended. But may our temperment know resistance..may we all look at our unfortunate actions as memory. Temper your rage. Let us not accept any and all as meer foe. Let us attempt to understand and listen, even should one give us pause and reason against it. It is by attempt that we may advert such an occurance. It is all we Knights ask of you. Use our unfortunate to be a reminder to us all."

Now his brows leveled upon those whom where the Council of Elders.

"As I have stated, and as I have come out to recant our unfortunate occurance. It is upon you that we Knights submit as one and ask now for forgiveness. Already have we set to Honor young David Hawthornes spirit. Already have we confided with our great Patron, Unicorn's Shadow. Already have we bore our hearts to our mother of mother's Gaia and her wounded bossom. It is now that we set ourselves with bent knee and penance at your Council's ruling." He steps back to his pack then.

A voice crackled to life; deep back-woods southern drawl, heavy laiden but still feminent, "The in betweens," the blond vixen known as Nelly Bell stepped forward, "Already two kinfolk have been saught after, poached or atleast the attempt thereof. Nightly and daily calls do our defenses answer to protect the kinfolk known as Miriam, sister of Imogen Slaughter, from drugdealers and those wishing to harm the child. Thrice we have battled against those pushing the wicked ways of the wyrm upon her, in our own backyards. Following them home, Alexi and the like, to wish harm upon them. Kinpoachers are abound. Our defenses around the house, have as of late, been alert; our eyes and ears hold caution to the events and feet which tread our territory. And upon that fatefilled night, when David Hawthorne fleet of foot came to throw trashcans upon our doorstep at One A.M., the house again sparked to life with defence," taking a breath, "Under the no-moon's gifts he hid from the Phalnex wall, while Harry and the child of Vine made safe the innocents under the roof. When the pack was upon the frontpoarch stoop, then did David Hawthorn make himself known. But 'lo with slanderous toungue did he gibb. Upon our queries of who and why his answer was his name, tribe, and he had come for our kinfolk, Alexi, she asleep upstairs," shaking her head,

We have known of no such man as this David. With a warning word we gave, he was upon the Knight's territory, rousing the children and kin within the house with his tossing of garbage upon our stoop, standing before his own tribal leader. And to this he slandered our packs name, made no apologies for the ill he had caused, and took immediatly to flight," pausing, her bedroom gaze fell over the council and collected,

A gibbious moon hung low in the rain clouded sky that eve. It fuled my own passions, and thru me down the link which binds us all, a part of that fule trickled as happens within every pack. Chase we gave. Upon four legs to catch Hawthorn upon two. When pause behind parked cars the man gave, cornered by three, a second warning was baded, "Surrender, submit, May Gaia bless you with the wisdom to not enrage us further, were words of the Children of Unicorn's tribal leader," shaking her head, "A chance for the boy to take heed, for LeRoy understood what fuled my soul that night. But alas, he gave no reply, but leaped over LeRoy to make way down the street. And that is when all three struck at once. Harry and LeRoy wished none other than to catch the boy. I willingly admit I yearned for the taste of blood. But death we did not want to usher in for him. Death was not heralding in upon our wings that night. I tasted his blood and flesh as did LeRoy. But teeth fell too close to the spinal cord, and it was cut under the velocity and weight in which his body fell to meet open maws," her words fell silent, hanging heavily with sadness her lips and eyes frowned, "And so we put to rest David Hawthorn, anarchy 99, first ranked of the children of Gaia within the Caern's soil. But we would like to put to rest the slaying of our brethern in one heated, damp night, with the members of this Sept and the council of Elders do we seek forgiveness." Before she as well steps back.

Barny has remained where he is still. He was not present at the incident, yet as pack, he stands to be judged, condemned, or forgiven with them. As sombre as his packmates. The loss of the gaian has brought to life something thought forgotten.

(james wagner - fianna elder)
James Wagner, the Fianna elder, stepped forward, weighing the Knights present. The only expression one could see upon his features was the lack of expression as he listened to their tale. The Moondancer could feel the pain the retelling of the tale caused to those that participated in the chase and kill.

To lose one of Gaia's chosen in a city such as Chicago was a grievous loss, as all were valuable in the fight against the Wyrm, but such things sometimes cannot be avoided. The Sandman spoke thus:

"As Fianna I know what it means to have passions run high. As Garou I know what it means when Rage mixes with passion. For defending your territory, you cannot be faulted. Taking a life unwarrented..." James trailed off, as he thought of the best way to handle this. He was not Philodox; things of this nature was not his forte'.

A breath. "When passion runs high, in times of persuit or war, mercy is hard to come by. For honoring this David Hawthorne, I, as Fianna elder, forgive you the sin of his death. Perhaps it could not of been avoided, and perhaps it could have, but you have honored his spirit with the burial service."

Thus, he stepped back, having no more to say.

(eyes od medea - fury elder)
"Which of the forms were you in when you pursued this David Hawthorne?"

The question comes from the Fury Elder, calm as still water.

(leroy)
It was LeRoy who spoke.

"As we've said before, we were upon four whilst he upon two. But if you are inquiring upon difference of which...then we were split...one Lupus and two Hispo."

Nodding towards the Black Fury.

(eyes of medea)
"I am no Philodox."

The words are spoken quietly from the Fury Elder who steps to the forefront, dark eyes resting on the pack who has come to beg for forgiveness...and the one who wishes to challenge for Fostern.

"I am a Theurge. But here is what I know from what they have said..."

Her manner is calm, her voice holding only an echo of the Rage one would expect of a warrior of Gaia.

"The pack known as The Knights found a member of Unicorn's Tribe, David Hawthorne, a Trickster, in their territory. He insulted and slandered their names - but to their faces. He wanted to see a kinfolk, Alexi. He was unknown to this pack. He caused a ruckus. Then he ran, like a coward."

She pauses, her dark eyes resting on the Alpha of the pack.

"And then, this pack pursued him in the guise of the Dire Wolf. Through a city filled with humans. Without the protection of the Delerium. As wolves, while he fled on foot. Across their territory they pursued him, breaking the Veil with every step they took, while he ran in his human's form, at a distinct disadvantage."

She crosses her arms, letting her words sink in before continuing.

"Though he never sought to physically harm them from what they have said, they cornered him, still in the guise of the Dire Wolf's form, demanded he stand down. He chose to run. Whom they pursued, though he never lifted a hand against them, if this story is to be believed."

Her eyes narrow, and she shakes her head.

"In the guise of the Dire Wolf, they attacked a Garou - a Garou - in homid. And they thought that the attack of all three...including an Ahroun and a Galliard, veteran warriors both...they thought the attack of two Dire Wolves and a lupus would not kill a lone homid no-moon?"

She sounds incredulous, and her eyes begin to burn with a subtle anger as she turns her gaze back to those who stand waiting for judgement.

"You ran through the streets in Hispo form. Did none of you think of the Veil? You attacked one lone no-moon in Homid - who had identified himself by your own admission - with you yourselves in Hispo and Lupus. You, who are veteran warriors by your own admission. Will I forgive such?"

She shakes her head slowly.

"No. Unless you can answer to these problems to my satisfaction. You are Garou, not ravening, slavering beasts. Either you control your Rage, or the Wyrm controls you. And not even Frenzy would be an excuse for breaking the Veil such as it has been broken here, if this story is correct."

(leroy)
LeRoy listened. Calm once mixed with the serenity of shame now focused upon the Black Fury. Proud his shoulders lifted as he stood under the council's judgement.

"Your words hold weight and merit. Indeed the concerns you offer are indeed valid. Each member of this Sept fights constantly vigil to keep the Veil from threat. Yet...you question the validity of our words. In that I find fault and humbly request your retraction. We have come before you all...by admittance and disgrace we suffer this shame. To fault the honor of our Tongue is a mistake. Long before your arrival or the arrival of others who sit upon this esteemed council our words and oaths given have been as honest as they have been in earnst. Yet since you only know of our deeds...or if you don't then you should, I will stand before you in further shame and be tested willingly by a TruthCatcher should it satisfy you. Though once my and the voice of our Pack is seen as being just as it has been given. I will ask for your apology....Upon that matter solely. And upon considering us mindless beasts...enthralled upon the mighty scals of the Wyrm as you suggest. May I remind you of your own rage that you so openly spat. When your mate had fallen, we understood and said nothing. Like this..over time...the pressure of our constant harassements can become again...unpredicatable in response. For we ARE Garou...and recognize the battle we must face against our own failures of strength and of heart."

His glance swept towards James Wagner..then towards James Branson and Decker.

"As it was late in the eve, threat to the veil in our sleepy community was threatened..but only a little. We gave chase as we said..but into the streets it spilt only once. Infront of our house is the furthest David Hawthorne, flight of feet Anarchy 99 could give upon two feet. The veil was always in our mind. To capture and to capture quick. To linger upon foot down our neighborhood sidewalks would invite more curiousity than the tipping over of a single trashcan. For this instance happened in the span of this. But again..my words given. Our shame I stand before you representing. It is upon you three whom know we better than obviously she to know that I would not shame this council with lies of testimony. We will have a truthcatcher then?"

(yu gan - elder uktena)
Yu Gan listens and watches the Fury speak.
He himself doesn't often talk much. But he is capable.

Hearing them he nods and does speak. Voice soft, lacking any sort of Asian accent somone might expect with his looks.

"The fury has made valid points. Hunting though a city in Hispo is a breech of the viel. I know not the local where this happened myself but rarly does an entire city sleep. Usually there are people around. If noone saw you. More the better.

Still she has valid point. You chased a homid in Hispo form. It's a war form. Not an easy one to assume even. It's not crinos, nor lupus. It's one of the between forms. Taking such form is no accident. You only end up there if you mean and try hard to.

*He nods slowly* And as the fury has pointed out, to attack a homid in this form... there is no doupt as to the results. You were going to kill him. Hispo claws and teeth rend steel quite easily. Pouncing somone in homid, dog piling them in this massive war form there is little doupt of the outcome.

Hispo isn't a playful form. Even going as gently as possiable pouncing a homid in hispo is almost certain death. Biting one insures it very nearly to certainty. Going an entire pack in this fashion...

What other outcome where you thinking could happen? You can fight grown grizzly bears in hispo. Ive done it. This was a Child Of Gaia fleeing from hostile people. Perhaps cowardly but perhaps quite smart. We don't know. Clearly he DID have reason to run as he's dead. Perhaps he saw murderous intent in the pack and fled because of that? *Yu gan shrugs* We don't know, he's not here to speak, but if I had 3 garou wanting to kill me, I'd run my ass off too.

As for the terriroy thing.. * he shakes his head* yes he was in your turf but this is a city. he can't really howl for entrance. Yes he tresspassed but * he shrugs* people do it all the time. I've seen you're pack in my territory before with out asking our permission. I invited you out for food. I extend hospitality to garou of the nation. I do this to others as well. There are many in the sept that have dined with me and mine.

Now, you run your lands different but with being urban there are consessiosn to be made. We can't have iron clad borderes we defend to the death aginst anyone that tresspasses. It's simply illogical.

If we were out in a forrest, and the only people there were garou, where the borders can be clearly sent and sight marked. Where it's a known local that's one thing, but this is 2004, killing somone for going though the city is a bit much.

There are many gray area's here but my thoughts keep dragging back to the end result and how it was acheevied. You attacked a fleeing Child Of Gaia ragabash in war form to his homid. War forms are not accidental. You assume them to kill. To have killed while in a war form is no accident. It's what they're for. In effect you drew the weapon and swung it and are surprised at the outcome. I have trouble with that.

*He looks to the other counsil members*

(eyes of medea)
"You misunderstand my words, Bred-and-Butta-yuf."

The Fury's calm appears unbroken, her manner unflappable as she continues.

"I speak my words in the hope that I have somehow misunderstood this story. I speak my words as a prayer that you will tell me, 'No, no, you misunderstand, Eyes-of-Medea. This is what actually happened.' I do not question your word, I do not call you a liar, and I apologize if my words were misconstrued as such."

A long pause, and then she speaks again.

"But are my words mistaken, Bred-and-Butta-yuf? Have I misunderstood the words that you and your packmates have spoken?"

(brand - silver fang elder)
Brand has been silent thus far, and continues to be while the Fury debates the accused.

(decker - fenrir elder)
At this point Decker loses interest in the proceedings. There ain't nothing to debate in his mind. There's a loud (rude) whuff from the steel grey Crinos.

"Call the fallen's Alpha. If he had no Alpha, let the highest Child of Gaia stand forth. Take your right of retribution however you wish or take nothing at all.

"Then the matter is over."

That's his 'suggestion'. Note, he didn't even stipulate that it had to be the highest Child of Gaia outside the pack. Unfair, sure. Life ain't fair. Thus are the strong blessed. These are the fruits of leadership. Too hardcore for this Sept? Tough luck - this is how they do things where he comes from.

(binary - glass walker elder)
For Binary it was a simple matter. Protocol had been breached. Territory unrespected. His death an expected outcome. And yet Binary never sits alone, even there amoung the elders beyond that ink-colored gaze [ ....a monolith is she... ] were other thoughts. [ ..the one in the many - the many in the one.... ] Medea's words come amid others, information like data streams to slip unseen beyond the impassive tide of black gaze. Yu Gan speaks and then Decker.

Brand has kept his own council and her head dips forward, an inquiry:

"Is it true when a stampede death of humans occured you laughed Bred? And only called the authorities when it was suggested. That you neither went to thier aid and instead took delight?"

[...glasswalkers and thier information.]
Confirm or deny.

Would the answer change her opinion in one way or the other?

(barny)
As Binary speaks out, Barny steps up to answer. Seeming utterly calm, he sweeps his gaze to Binary.
"After the kin known as Miriam caused that stampede, we were faced with a tough choice. In the end, it was the protection of the veil that stopped us from acting. It would have been impossible to heal those wounded by the kins actions without resorting to the use of gifts, and that would have been bad."
There are judges here, and if any of them uses gaias gift of truth on him, they find no lies in it.
"Bread~n~Butta here felt my stress over what had happened to those people, because of the kin, and his jesting ways right after where meant not as mocking them, but to help myself be calm, to not do anything rash to Miriam, or any other there. And before Leroy could be certain I was not going to frenzy, he wouldnt call the authorities. I am sure I dont need to go further into what would have happened then."
Anyone who knows Barny will know it for truth even without a gift that indeed, the suffering of innocents, especially because of a foolish kin could drive him to frenzy if anything.
"But that instance is not why we are here today, is it? We stand... Accused... For protecting our kin, our home. An unfortunate incident to be true. Yet for all this talk about risking the veil, as do we all when we live in a city, we who are not meant to be here. Every day, we fight the wyrm, where we can, how we can. We have all risked breeching that veil, and together none the less, even as we raised the caern. The important thing is, the veil was not breeched. There wasnt even a need to repair it. Worse things happen all the time in this city, despite all our attempts to have it not so. Yet our pack, saddened and grieving the loss of a tribesmate stand before you, to admit it. We bend our knee's and necks for whatever punishment you see fit. Not because we need to, but because we wish too do it, to in some way atone for the loss of another garou. We did not murder this Garou. We protected our home, our kin. It was an unfortunate thing that he died. No one denies that. No one has tried to deny the fact that we ended his life."
He looks around him. They are the council, those ruling, yet they are garou, like them.
"Is this not why we are here? The Veil. Was. Not. Breeched. So why are we even discussing that? Or is this just the start, for the trial of all garou who helped raise the caern?"
His jaws snap shut, and he takes a step back, rage rolling of him in waves. He isnt blessed with the calm of Leroy. He is a full-moon, like the one burning above. He draws in a deep breath, as the presence of his pack around him helps calm that whirlpool of anger.

(anastasija - shadow lord elder)
Silent until now, a stalwart and reserved figure standing amongst the Council. There on borrowed terms, Flesh of Fire was temporary Elder to the Shadow Lords - but as it should be the case, that lesser position did not cow the strength of her own confidence in her words. She does not step forward, nor does she lift her voice in volume, matching the calm of the Child of Gaia full moon. It is a steady even pace with which she speaks, the low resonance of her voice scratched and marred and thick with her accent. Though each syllable, a rod of penetrative steel. Deliberate and pronounced and picking up where the Fury Elder had left.

"No, you mistake yourself, Mothers-Riddle-yuf. The fact that the veil was not breached saves you from a harsher condemnation. The fact that it was threatened in the manner that it was, marks you and your pack nepromisljen." No need to guess what it means. Despite the even tones, the context could only be negative. Foolish. "Have you so forgotten the use of all forms, that at the hint of resistance in a city you should choose one of the least wisest for the weakest excuse?"

Pause.

"For the actions of abandonment of one, where we would vote for possible death, the garou suggested a rite to strip her of her wolf. For those who are so given to change without precaution, perhaps the necessity of their homid form would be better remembered with a temporary confinement to it, ne?"

The scar ripples in crescent form across her cheek and temple, pulling and tugging her puckered skin in unnatural direction as the muscle shifts beneath. Like a hissing serpent it writhes, to match the iron cast of that face, to match the weighted intensity of her eyes as they go from Barney to land on LeRoy - encompassing them both in her ire. How serious she is would be hard to discern, the harsh pronouncement by others would be considered too far - from a Shadow Lord half moon, it could be considered an extreme end of just. But then she speaks again.

"Or perhaps you both will remember in the future that to chase a two legs in a city, you need only two yourself."

(yu gan)
Yu Gan's temper was starting to rise. He was Ragabash and really quite calm as far as garou go. But even he has rage. A snarl is ripped from him and the large Asian man is standing.

"NO."

A shake of the head

"DOn't you fucking dare to put your self on the level of those bleading and dieing to raise a sacred place of gaia to strength. You dishonor yourself greatly AHROUN.
You mock the scarfice those that died made.
DON'T
YOU
FUCKING
DARE.
You are here being judged by the counsil. NOT laying accusations. DO NOT PRESUME TO PUT THIS CRIME ON THE SAME LEVEL."

A ripple of red and brown fur spreads up Yu Gans forarms and down.

"NOt to mention your cowards excuse is faulty. We had MASSIVE DIVERSION on the night we raised the caren. The crows saw to it. Did you not READ the paper the next day? Did you not see the explosions across town that drew away the mortal authorities? Did you not hear about the animals releaced across town to draw away even more?
The raising of the caern was a glorous accomplishment for gaia.

It was NOT HUNTING DOWN ONE OF YOUR OWN IN THE STREETS AND RIPPING OUT HIS SPINE!"

*The ragabash waves a hand at the mighty ahroun.*

"You massivly dishonor yourself before us here Barny. Your "Oh look what they did. Punish them." Whining is indicitive of the worst qualities that many attribute to a Bone Gnawer but NO!"

Yu Gan points to Hal

"HE STANDS AND TAKES IT. You whine like a mule."

Yu Gan all but spits it out.

"Your dishonor of the action is now compounded by your clearly unrepentant words. "Not because we need to" Not because you NEED TO? * His words raising in volume. None among the sept have heard Yu Gans voice rise above a pleasent tone save in battle where howls are thrown.*
"You are here because you killed one of your own. You KILLED him for words. You KILLED him for FLEEING 3 garou. Who here can stand aginst a pack united? He was FLEEING. He was LEAVING your preshious territory you say you were "Defending"
Was he shooting into your house with a machine gun? Oh oh.. I forgot. He banged some trashcans. Well by ALL MEANS DEFEND YOUR TERRITORY TO THE DEATH AHROUN! GO< FASTER KILL KILL!!! KILL THEM ALL, KILL ALL THE HUMANS AND GAROU ALIKE THAT _DARE_ TO BANG A TRASH CAN AND RUN FROM YOU!"

*Yu Gan shakes his head* "You're not repentant.

You try and divert your guilt by pointing out things that happened with the Fang elder. You act as if your time here is by your own graces and not hte fact that wrong was done. You try and put the HUNTING DOWN OF A FLEEING GAROU OF YOUR OWN TRIBE, on the level of RAISING A CAERN FOR GAIA?

Are you MAD? Your words are MORNINC, COWARDLY, and worst of all DISHONORABLE.

Stand and suck it up like your Bone Gnawer shows you. Take what may or may not be given. But don't do as you've done, Mothers Riddle. Don't debase your self like some sniviling worm. "

(eyes of medea)
A look of disgust crosses Helena's features, and she holds up a hand, waving it in that pack's direction in a manner of dismissal. A shake of her head, the taste of this entire situation bitter ashes in her mouth. Dark eyes shift to Flesh-of-Fire, and she nods slowly.

"Your words are wise, Flesh-of-Fire-yuf. I agree. For the stupidity of running through a human city in forms designed to attract attention --" And here her eyes flicker to the Knights, filled with disgust, "I also agree that taking their wolf would be a wise course of action."

The but hovers in the air, and her eyes shift to the Fenrir, narrowing slightly as she wages the inward war between Tribal prejudice and her own personal feelings.

"But, though the most august Fenrir Elder apparently sees this as some little crime, I do not agree. As Flesh-of-Fire-yuf pointed out, a Garou nearly lost her life for the mere action of abandoning humans to a horrible fate. Here stands a pack that admits it slew a Garou. A Garou. Is not the life of one of the Warriors of Gaia worth far more?"

She crosses her arms, frowning.

"You do not hunt down a homid in Hispo and Lupus and not expect him to die when it is three on one. I find these words...oddly confusing, and as none have decided to clarify them - even when I asked for such clarification - I am inclined to believe that a more strict punishment is needed. They slew a Garou. They should not escape with a mere 'slap on the wrist.'"

(barny)
He faces Yu Gan's anger without ever once raising a brow. Just that cold, calm gaze on him, waiting for his rant to be over with. He doesnt explode intoa urderous rage, that perhaps the insults warrant. He doesnt reach out, to rip the throat out fo the quickest for questioning Barny. Indeed, it is almost eerie the way he remains so calm, facing down the no moon. And only when Yu gan is finished, does he speak up again.
"Listen to yourself -Rhya. I stood here, with my pack, fought, and bled to raise this caern. I did it, because it was right. I did it cause it was my right."
He smirks, eyes narrowing slightly as he continues talking.
"We stand here because of the death by a garou, caused by us. I have never once denied that. Yet when the threat to the veil was raised as a subject, by yourself, I responded with logic, and fact. You speak of diversions and fire and the release of animals. All which served us greatly. Yet each and everyone of us threatened the veil that night, and we did it willingly, and with pure hearts. Because of the greater good of the caern. The veil is not why we are here now."
He motions out for the council, and his pack.
"Ive not once tried to push blame for our actions, what had happened with the garou. We killed him, treated him like a threat to our home, our kin. How would you deal with a threat to your kin? To your family? Would you let it run away, to come again, unseen? Or would you End that threat, to protect your own? Would any here not protect what is their to protect? The garou in question, even after the unicorns introduced themselves, mocked us, refused to identify himself, flipped us off. So we chased him down once, and this time told him to submit, surrounded, and outnumbered. Would you have even bothered with that Yu Gan -Rhya?"
Asked dismissivly. If Yu Gan would or not is not the subject at hand here.
"Then again, he tried to run. He knew very well that he was dealing with not one, but three garou. He knew well how he had taunted and mocked, and disregarded anything even close to respect. So the unicorns struck out, as one, as pack. It was not a question of him fleeing, afraid of harm or death neither the first, or second time. He knew, he smiled, and he laughed into the unicorns faces. So he died for it. Yet even then, death was not our goal. But that was the outcome."
He draws in a deep, slow breath.
"And you, Yu Gan -Rhya, claim we are here because we must? We felt sorrow for what we had done. not because we defended our home, our kin, but because he had died. So we went before our totem, to ask its guidance in this, and our totem is not a forgiving one, nor a mild, playful thing. We asked its advice how to repent, and it sent us here. It sent us here to tell all of the sept of a mistake made when protecting our home. To submit for what you all felt were necessary for it. That is why we are here, standing before you. The death of the garou is unfortunate, and something we all regret deeply. Who are you to question our sincerity in this?"
He scoffs at Yu Gan, sneering.
"It is no secret that you for some reason dislike the Knights. Yet you are the Uktena Elder at this sept, and for that, we submit to you, and your likes. No Yu Gan, you have no place to question my honor, or the honor of anyone else. If you so think that I am what you just claimed? Then prove it. Challenge me to prove my weakness. Challenge me, or shut the fuck up -Rhya."
Barny is not a tree lovin weak child of Gaia. He is the dark spirit of the shadow of the unicorn, filled with rage, even so, he isnt stupid. He knows well enough to respect his elders, even when they dont respect those beneath them. Yet it isnt his place to challenge. The one who has to prove truth to his words is the Uktena, not the Child of Gaia. And Barny simply turns his back on Yu Gan there, walking back the few steps to his pack, rejoining them once again. A slight shake of his head, and a sigh. And through it all, that eerie calm remains, where Frenzy should have ruled the night into some bloody feast of destruction. And then he turns to Helena, head slightly titled, listening to her words. Waiting. It shall be interesting to see what will come of this now. Interesting indeed.

(eyes of medea)
"Mother's-Riddle-yuf..."

The words slip from the calm Fury standing just across the way, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

"Would not the wise course of action when dealing with a known Garou who identified himself, told you his name and his tribe...would not the wise course of action have been to challenge him honorably and so protect your honor? But instead you hunted him down when he fled. When he ran from you, acknowledging your superiority by that action, you slew him as if he were a creature of the Wyrm. You slaughtered a Garou, three on one, with no honorable challenge given. No Master of the Challenge was present. In the darkness, three on one, two in war forms, one in Lupus...chasing a lone Ragabash in Homid. No. That action has no honor, Mother's-Riddle-yuf, no matter how much you try to make it so."

A shake of her head, the disgust still on her face.

"No. Not any. Not at all."

(barny)
HE raises a brow, looking to Helena. Perhaps she had misunderstood the words of his packmates when it was first laid out. He knows that he himself sometimes have trouble folliwng LEroy when the high blod in him gets the better of him.
"There was no introduction made Helena-Rhya. Only mocking speech, and thrown insults to the calm questions the unicorns asked, and then laughing escape."
Responded calmly.

(eyes of medea)
She gives him a long, level look, one brow arched as she speaks quietly.

"Upon our queries of who and why his answer was his name, tribe, and he had come for our kinfolk, Alexi, she asleep upstairs."

A long pause, and then she makes a questioning gesture.

"The words of your Galliard...or did she speak falsely, Mother's-Riddle-yuf?"

(yu gan)
*Yu Gan listens to the Coggie rant and spew forth his vetral, a shake of his head and the much smaller Ragabash does not give ground.*

"I didn't raise the point of the Viel Barny. Helena did. Are you listening to the proceedings or are you trying to make yourself look good inspite of what your pack has done? Your "Logic" Is that you were chasing somone. What stops you from chasing him in homid. Are you just. That. Slow?

*Yu Gan looks at Barny then. Not even needing to make a point of speed. He was known to be the fastest of any in this sept.*

And yes I speak of distractions, the fire and the animals that kept our viel breaches minimal and lower than they would have been with out it. I mention it because you did NOT. You ran though the streets in your war form chasing a homid. Can you not move in homid yourself? Your banter about now, seems to indicate you can. Or were you afraid of his mighty trash can throwing ability to which you've already testified? Gaia knows, we can't have you get DIRTY huh?

How would I react? I certinly wouldn't slaughter one of the Garou nation. One of the most Peaceful tribe there is, for throwing a trashcan. No Barny. For some reason... I don't find making noise and banging trashcans around to be a lfie threatening thing. Maybe I grew up sheltered but if you respond with murder about banging trashcans... do you have any living trashmen in your territory? Because... they are such a threat to your kin. The banging of trashcans is such an affront. Oh my god.. you have to kill them for such a threat!!

*He smirks* All know the Quicks hospitality. We are kind to those in our territory. Even after LeRoy apoligised for his words so many months ago I personally invited your entire pack out for food.

How would we handel somone banging trash cans outside our home? Not with Hispo teeth and claws I assure you.
So you chased him as a pack. He ran. Who wouldn't. Outnumbered 3 to one most of us would run.
You caught him again and demanded him to submit. He flipped you off. Wouldn't you? What was his options? You clearly had murderous intent. The guy's dead. Wny die on your knees when you can at least die on your feet. He got away again and you killed him. Not wound. You didn't hamstring him. You didn't even just tear off a leg. You ripped out the boys spine.

You claimed he laughed in your faces and ran. So you killed him. You pounced as one. As a pack. So are you sayig that the banging of Trashcans and words merit death in your eyes Barny? If so you have alot of killing before you. We are on the same SIDE! We all fight for gaia. We don't have to like everyone. You don't kill another garou unless given no other choice. If he'd attacked your people. I might understand it. No.. I would. Had he come and attacked you I'd understand more, but making noise, shooting you the bird and running away doesn't warrent a death sentance.

As for saying your here because you must. Yes. Your own words verify that. You went before your totem and were ordered to do this. And here you are. You didn't come before the sept before, put your case to us and ask for your totems forgivness in the moot. You were ordered to come. This isn't an autristic move. It's obeying the god that you follow when given an order. Two different things.

And who am I to question, Ahroun?
I am RAGABASH. That's who I am to question. It's my Luna MANDATED PURPOSE in this world. It's why we were created. To question. to bring things forth into the light when they might be obfuscated. I'm carrying out my role in this universe as put to my by Luna.

THAT's who I am to question. Do you know better than Luna? Do you propose to give me a new Auspice? Where do you gain this right? From your arm? Your strength?

I have EVERY right to question you on your actions. That's what this is for. That express purpose.
Your totem told you to come and put it before us. You have. That gives us ALL the right to question it.
No... I don't hold resentment for your pack Barny. Just for your actions.
As for your honor. You've proven to be with out it in this. You killed another garou fleeing from you. Your honor is already tarnished. Your own totem sent you here for that. I don't have to challenge you to say so. You say so yourself. Your totem says so and your actions reek of it.

You try and draw me into a fight with you Barny? *He laughs* With the wyrm foe? Do I look stupid enough to fall for that? No Ahroun. I'm not quite so foolish, though the fight would be much closer than you seem to think in your arrogance.

Your weekness isn't in your ARMs or your claws. but in your character. In your actions and what you put your might to do. So I will not shut the fuck up.

I WILL Call you on your actions as the Ragabash were mandtated to do by Luna and you cannot say me nay. "

*Barny shows his back to not only Yu Gan but the Counsil, the grand elder and all. No. Yu Gan isn't the Ahroun to leap out and throat Barny for his insolance and disrespect to the entire counsil. There are ahrouns on the counsil for that.

Helena starts to Qurestion Barny again and Yu Gan nods to her. Listening.*

(decker)
Decker fixes Helena with a level, hard stare. It's not returned. She keeps her gaze averted, fast on the Knights. (checked w/ player on that)

"THINK, Black Fury. I spoke for life when others would have seen her dead. You're blind to your allies, and I am out of patience."

--it's a low snarl.

A pause. Claws flex. He'll explain this once. "Your packmate ran. These fought. Your packmate doomed a village of Gaia's purest by deliberation and forethought. These killed by accident and foolishness. That is the difference."

Then more landslides of words all around him. Decker has a fucking headache. Fuckin' politics. The displeasure seeps through to his packmate on the Council. They stood on the front lines for this shit? They shoulda stayed home in Jersey.

Another round goes by.

"Enough. We'll debate this forever. Let's decide. What would you all have done, Elders? I speak for right of retribution."

(yu gan)
Yu Gan nods to that*

I agree. Normally it would fall to the elder of the tribe wronged, but in this case the elder was one that aided in the perpertration of it.
It should go to the grand elder. His word, final and we'll debate it no more.
We're not a bunch of democratic tee hugging care bears. It's his choice.

*Yu Gan steps back. Decker was right. Debate wasn't helping.*

(eyes of medea)
It is only when she is directly addressed by the Fenrir that Helena takes her gaze away from the Knights, away from the pack that so disgusts her, and rests it on the Fenrir Elder. Perhaps for the first time, a spark of anger begins to smolder in her dark gaze.

"You would do well to get your facts straight, Silence-rhya."

A pause, her eyes narrow.

"Sings-Down-the-Stars has not been my packmate since the night of the Caern Raising. She cut herself off from our Totem. And then our Totem cut her off from us. She has not been my packmate for some time. I do not claim her as such now."

Another pause, and she shakes her head.

"Though this has absolutely nothing to do with the here and now. This pack hunted down and slew a Garou, known to be a Garou, known to be of their Tribe, and apparently known to be a no-moon. An Ahroun, A Galliard, and a Theurge hunted down a no-moon using war forms. There is a grave difference, Silence-rhya. They cannot even keep their story straight. Mother's-Riddle says one thing, Murphy's-Law another. And you don't seem to find this odd?"

She snorts, and finally nods.

"But since you have decided that we should vote, here is my vote. For the stupidity of racing through the streets in a war form, they should be stripped of their wolves for at least one month, possibly longer. For the crime of slaughtering like a dog a Garou who had raised no hand against them, who was leaving their territory as he should have, I say that since this pack appears unable to conduct themselves as proper Garou should in a city, for Gaia's sake, I think they should be exiled to the country until such time as this Council deems them fit to return and take back their territory. And if my opinion means anything, I think the Children of Gaia should rethink who they pick as their Elder lest more shame be brought upon their Tribe. Any further punishment should be decided by the Grand Elder. That is my opinion."

(decker)
Decker has nothing more to say.

He meets Helena's gaze levelly. His eyes are flint-hard, and grey like a storm.

(brand)
Brand: "Helena-yuf would have made a fine philodox. However, the form of the punishment is the wronged party's own prerogative. Let the highest of their tribe, excluding LeRoy and his own, decide."

The Silver Fang turns to the Grand Elder Balance-without-Fault and nods to him. "That is my advice to you, Grand Elder."

((ok, now that about 3 people have asked me... Right of Retribution isn't a rite, and it's not in any book. it's based off of norse honor and norse ideals of vengeance, an eye for an eye, etc. it's how Decker thinks most lesser to mid-range crimes should be answered -- the wronged party decides what should be done to the offending party -- provided, of course, they're strong enough to carry through unaided what they ask. And of course, if the retribution is too high, there runs a risk of a feud starting, with the wronging party's friends coming to seek retribution for retribution... etc etc. it's all very complicated *grins*))

(barny)
Whatever responce Barny was prepared to give, is silenced by Silence's words, and he falls quiet, standing to face judgment.

(harold)
~Harold speaks to those in assembly of the council. He speaks calmly and respectfuly~ "Elders if you please, I will not try and sweet talk what happened or dumb it down as a petty crime, for it is not. No we slayed a garou and that will forever be our burden to carry. All I can say is at the time I saw Anarchy 99 as a potential threat to the kinfolk and the child within the household adreneline and rage took hold of me I shifted to lupus yes to catch this Anarchy. Yes I knew Lupus could overtake the man and injure him. Which was my attempt to hamstring him to stop him from running. For all I knew he was a Spiral or a fomori, for I have never heard or met this man before that night, and I acted as I thought at the time was in the best intrest of protecting the people in the house who could not protect themselves. If any one of you thought someone a Spiral would you do diffrent then we did?"

~He takes a small breath~

"Is what we did right, no of course not in the process of it all a Garou died unacceptable very much so. But at the time we believed it to be right and that is what we acted on. I wish I could go back and change it do a few things diffrently. I know we must be punished I will give no argument to that and I stand prepared for the Councils punishment but I wish to say one thing. I am sorry for what I did, I am sorry to Anarchy 99's pack to Gaia for the lose of a child and to the Garou nation for a lose of a warrior. It may not mean much to you all but I needed to say it. Thank you for letting me speak."
(james wagner)
The Sandman stood by, arms folded, as he listened to the assembled Elders and Knights bicker back and forth between each other. James cast a look toward Decker, as he was about to say much the same thing that this would be getting them no where. He wasn't the most politically inclined, but when it all boiled down to it one of Gaia's chosen was slain and there must be penitence. The sept demanded it, and the honor of the pack demanded it. That much was obvious in that the Knights of Unicorn's Fury were present before this council. They did not act as though it was a meager action, for it was not.

However, the bickering needed to be stopped and a decision needed to be made, before this got any more out of hand. Speaking, he curtailed his accent, or tried to, so they could understand him better.

"Let th'm be stripped of their wolves till th'next Full Moon, or th'next moot. Ye dinna 'ave much o've a reason fer shiftin' t'yer war forms, 'cause bein' gentle ain't what they be for. Lupus, mebbe I can see a reason for keeping pace. Hispo? Nay, lads and lassies, that's askin' fer trouble. Glabro seemed a might bit more reasonable though. Forms ain't the discussion.

As fer them bein' cast outta the city, I dinna think we need t'exile them. Th'caern's up, aye, but who's t'say that the Spirals may not be back? 'Ell, for all we know, they are back and keeping an 'eavy lay-low. We need ye here, ye Knights, with'r'without th'wolf."

James took a pause, then continued. "In th'end, I say leave it to the next rankin' tribemate who'da stood on council if not fer the present Elder and the Grand Elder."

That's all the Sandman had much to say, as he fell silent then, shifting his weight from one ball of his foot to the other.

(nelly)
She sighed a breath befor her southern twang slipped, "Ah'm blessed with a memory which excells a gibbious moon in memories and stories," a glance along the lines of the council, "If you find mah packmate Barny's words a bit... off... it is because the Wyrmfoe was not present during the time. Yet he stands, as any packmate would, with us before you all to take on the sins of sins," a slight pause as her chest rose and fell with breath, "Ah will repeat the story if the council wishes, or the Grand Elder, or whomever ya'll wish." And she gave no more. No more debates. Just the facts, as per usual, from her lips as one hand slowly rose to push a single strand of white blonde hair from her eyes.

(binary)
Data pours behind her gaze and the woman pulls her speactacles over black almond shaped eyes. There is a spiritual resonance to those spectacles, it was the sort of object only given in reward of extreme bravery, honor, or wisdom. A single finger traces along the surface of the table.

"The question set before us is a response to the death of a garou."

Quiet words. Not shouted but clear and distinct. It is impossible to say what went on behind the gaze of that philodox, in part because she does not wear her thoughts on her sleeve and yet here was always that feeling of strangeness about the woman. Alone [...never.] That finger is lifted into the air as she scrutinizes the small bit of dirt which has gathered at the tip.

"The extenuating circumstances of question must be put under strict scrutinty. Were the knights acting in legitimate defense of thier territory to thier knowledge?"

She snorts briefly.
Trust a glasswalker to state the obvious.
[...and look SUPERIOR doing it.]

"Our laws are simple. Our culture is one of Hierarchy. On the charge of failing to accept an honorable surrender incurring the death of this garou who did not surrender honorably, nor submit to those whose land he trespassed, instead de facto challenged the Knights's the right of territory. I find that no wrong has been commited. On the related charge of disregard to those below you in station, I find that Anarchy 99 did submit enough information for his right to be secured and further disrespected. His death is a breach of litany. I submit that the council look to the Tribal elder from Anarchy 99's previous sept, as the current Elder poses a conflict of interest.

It is notable that the ragabash even in death has brought to light a dangerous propensity within the Knights. On the charge of disregard for the veil, I find that since the veil was not breached that exile would be extreme. Though the lack of wisdom is obvious and dangerous. I suggest assisting the warder & keeper of land with patrol and care of the bawn for 3 moons. Hopefully it will help train the quirks from an otherwise well-intended nature.

That. Is. All.

(james branson)
Drums on Skulls slides a glance towards his packmate
Decker isn't the only one who's head is mercilessly hurting
irritation's displeased seepage is not only understood, but mirrored
the Modi can feel it bristling behind the Gnawer Elder's calm thesad
both of Eagle's full moons running low on patience concurrently
..... not a particularly good thing in any situation

whatever condolence or affirmation or string of non-interpretable cussing passing between them on the impressionistic wings of the totem phone is best left between the packmates
(.... how did they both end up on the Council again....)

hands lift from where they rest lazily across thighs, dark eyes closing
fingers raking through the tangled mess of variegated brown dreadlocks
pulling them from his face to occupy several moment's process of thoughts
trying to clear the confusing roar growing from endless, bickering debate
subsequent sigh - growl - doesn't sound exactly promising
things have gotten entirely out of hand when the mellow Bone Gnawer finally gets fed up

breath drawn to halt this mess immediately exhaled without being put to use
Gaia bless the Fenrir's shorter temper inspiring barksnarled call to order
(..... and cease this never-ending verbal avalance that's only deepening the bu....ahem.)
can't blame the raggedyman for enjoying a moment of silence

"Fas' Track-yuf's righ'." his own phrases chosen carefully, spoken measured and slow: an exercise in enunciation assuring the Council's understanding of what he means beyond the twist of battlescar slur on thick Empire State accent, last thing they need is for him to repeat himself, chin nudges up Eagle style towards the Uktena Alpha, even if dark umber gaze remains on the Unicorn pack as a whole "S'not their claws 'r wolves a' fault. We've all seen their cour'ge 'n skill'n battle, reflect'd here b'fore us'n claimin' true their reasons 'n actions regar'less a th' shame 'r punishmen' it bring'."

a nod towards the gathered Knights - breifly catching the eyes of each which still looks up
trial aside; James retains an element of respect for each of the members for various reasons
he owes them at least a personal acknowledgement and appreciation of their efforts, sorrow, and honesty
however that does not color the Bone Gnawer's objectivity or impassive mask currently in effect

"Mistakes'r fault a char'ct'r 'n mind - by all involve' 'n respons'ble." for some reason, sweeping glance seems to include Barny - even if he wasn't present at the time, as a pack is responsible for all its members, Eagles know that as well as any others - and the dearly departed Mr. Hawthorne "We're all on level loss a life w's a trag'c waste." indication towards Sandman and Binary "They got poin's tha' we dun' need more waste 'r disservice. Strippin' th'm a their wolves dun' teach'm how t' temp'r their actions 'r strengths. Exilin' th'm beyon' th' reaches've a Caern we're still strugglin' a secure won' let'm pay their debts a th' whole 'n leave us shor'handed in a time a need."

"I also speak tha' Retribut'n belong a th' remainin' members a th' Chil'ren a Gaia. Let them'n th' Gran' Eld'r agree on a price a be pai' f'r th' loss a Ana'chy Nine'y-Nine." he's packed with Fenrir long enough to realize the extent of such a matter, hedging on the Coggie's reputation for fairness to avoid further antagonism and showing a little blind faith in the Grand Elder's earned name "Once tha' square, then give'm th' task a learnin' the value a wisd'm in any battle so they may cleanse 'way th' stain a their mistakes by learnin' a not make'm 'gain. Return 's members a th' Sept ready a mature..... an' grow..... 's Garou w'thou' th' cloud a this trag'dy hangin' ov'r 'em...... 'R us."

they gave Cinnamon a second chance to learn and better herself
even if he, himself, was one that doubted the sanctity of such a decision
(He promised to teach you Compassion, Jamey-boy, sealed by His brand on your chest)
fairness dictates the Knights are granted the same

[in progress]

Posted by james at 12:00 AM

May 04, 2004

.05.04.04. - songs and tales [moot pt.6]

[the caern - forums - file]

By now the night's worn on, and the tensest, most argumentative part of the moot is over. The Garou settle in for tales of past glory and future hopes...

(pinky)
Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee

::As sung by Pinky, Cliath Galliard of the children of Gaia::

Indian legislation on the desk of a do-right Congressman,
Now, he don't know much about the issue,
So he picks up the phone and he asks advice from
the Senator out in Indian country
A darling of the energy companies
who are ripping off what's left of the reservations.......

I learned a safety rule,
I don't know who to thank!
Don't stand between the reservation
and the corporate bank.
They send in federal tanks,
it isn't nice but it's reeeeeeeeeality!

Bury my heart at Wounded Knee.
(Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.)
Deep in the Earth.
(Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.)
Cover me with pretty lies.
(Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.)

They got these ENERGY companies,
who want to TAKE the land.
they've got CHURCHES by the dozens
want to GUIDE our hand.

...and sign Mother Earth over to pollution war and greeeeeed!

Bury my heart at Wounded Knee -
(Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.)
Deep in the Earth.
(Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.)
Cover me with pretty lies.
(Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.)

We get the FEDERAL marshals,
we get the COVERT spies
We get the LIARS by the fire,
and we get the FBIs
They lie in COURT and get nailed,

and still Leonard Peltier goes off to jaaaaail!
(..... The bullets don't match the gun!)

An eighth of the reservation.
(Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.)
Transferred in secret.
(Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.)
Murder and intimidation.
(Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.)

My girlfriend Annie Mae,
talked about uranium
Her head was filled w.ith bullets,
and her body dumped.
The FBI cut off her hands and told us:

.....she died of expooooooosure?!

We had the goldrush wars,
ah, didn't we learn to crawl?
And now our history gets written
in a liar's scrawl. They tell 'ya,

"Hey, honey, you can still be an Indian d-d-down at the Y on Saturday nights"

Bury my heart at Wounded Knee.
(Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.)
Bury my heart at Wounded Knee.
(Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.)

Bury. (Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.) My. (Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.) Heart.

BURY. MY. HEART.

(nelly)
“The fundamental history of this city is an epic in itself… and has come to light as being a bitch of a write. Alas, as right, 'the Bitch' shall be the fruits of every silver gibed tongue which falls underneath the gibbous moon in Chicago. But where to begin is a trick sought after by the cunningness of the No Moons. And the wisest of elders make circles of life shouting ‘where to begin, where to begin’….

We shall keep the time, and begin after the Yearning.

It was the pack, known as the Quick, who answered the flocks call
And pressed, as any scout, against the Wyrms invisible walls…
Its tapestry embrace choked the tiniest of Gaia’s heartbeats,
Following a single call, a faintly breath of old, they leaped….

Into the shadows the chivalrous bound
Distress their silver blades struck
Their wounds cut into enigmatic knots of darkness
In search of El Dorado…

Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of El Dorado.

But he grew old—
This knight so bold—
And o'er his heart a shadow
Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like El Dorado.

And, as his strength
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow—
‘Shadow,’ said he,
‘Where can it be—
This land of El Dorado?’

‘Over the Mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
Ride, boldly ride,’
The shade replied—
’If you seek for El Dorado!’
Two keys given to them…
May together they unlock Eden.”

She paused, taking a breath. Creases forming between light brows as refrained a silent moment. Waving a dismissive hand, “Just the clip notes for now… We will skip to that Day’s end…

Fallen upon the horizon Sol rested his head.
Gathering far below the streets of Chicago Peony botrytis blight;
In groups they fell…

Parameters: the Ferrets, Kadin, Kiril, Tristian, Mina, Lexi, Kris, Will… sky… Rasputin.. Umbral.
Spearhead: Yu Gan, Eagles, Curata, Kegan, Jude
Center: All theurges, Jim of the Bee Gees, the Knights, and four wyld Gorgon Gators
Flank: Two packs of Silver Crowned Kings and one child of Cannibal.

Kinfolk! Our treasures and our aids, our brothers and sisters, blessed and cursed with the half blood of humans and Gaian warriors. Kinfolk…. Scattered upon the streets, pushing the rims and borders…
And though the children of Ferret scurried upon the rooftops and ladders,
Their eyes could not pierce the darkness which fell upon our kin with a clatter…
Until it was too late.
Kiril was the first to fall.

I collected a memory upon a teardrop
Of a lover of deadly night’s shade;
Who choked her screams upon the sight
Of the first fallen warrior floating by.
Half brother, half lover, half warrior was he
And all man, pure of heart with golden lips
And gentle and strong hands.
Her eyes turned to this lover to bottle the deathly sight
Capturing upon her single, perfect round drop falling
Falling from one eye – I collected;
One eye that enveloped his soul in salted tears
And She, sheltered below the streets,
Saved every last memory, emotion, until
The ghost of Kiril was set free –
Bursting from the sewer grates and breaking
Breaking upon the great wave of darkness by the lover of She.”

Another breath was taken, “there are a million details and a million stories within stories of the great Birthing,” her pacing ceased suddenly. Arms streatching wide, behind her head to crack her spine before gracefully she sat upon the earthen floor. Blue eyes, as deep as the ocean, swept around the crowd. Platinum blonde locks fell across her shoulders as she shook her head, “Ya’ll need to know. Memories of the past, present, and even future is what binds us as Gaia’s chosen. And so I will recant, no as a poet, not as performer, but as one who wished to keep your focus upon the point. Later, when time allows, the walls of the Great Halls will be built, and upon these the entire length of this epic shall be written. For now….

The groups fell underneath and ontop of the great streets of Chicago. Jim Digs thru trash Larson, Bone Gnawer and full moon of the quick, held the key upon finding the dormant Caern. He was surrounded by the theurges... a nuclear moving thru the sewers of Chicago’s belly, protected by the elements of Black Unicorn’s furious Knights. Jim, even though Ahroun, had become one with this fetished key. A spirit consumed his body and soul, guiding him towards the dormant Caern. It would not rest until it was found, and thus Jim would not, could not rest. That he lived thru such a possession, should make any wise man tremble. He did though. And he guided, thru his totem’s gifts, the others above the streets in the direction of the old shipyard gravesite we stand upon now.

For a while, all was quiet. For a while, nothing happened. A trap was laid. The kinfolk were the first to take on this brunt, and lost the most within their group. The Ferrets saved the last of them.

Second to strike and second to come under attack, the Spearhead. Yu Gan, great scout, followed his Beta’s calls. When he saw the rusted gates of the shipyards, is when he first saw the trap. A great trap, for the Wyrm had laid in waiting for the Gaians. Ten Black Sprial Dancers, a pack it seemed, met the spearhead once inside the gates. In a great flurry, all men struck upon the blackness, and fall the darkness did. But it was a baited breath….

The great unmaker held a test for the rearguard as well. For within the sewers they followed the tails of the Center’s party. Until, that is, the pipes burst forth the worst releaves of mankind and worse upon them. The great Silvered Kings of the Nation were tarnished in a beltched insult from the Wyrm. And within this beltch sprug forth a pack of Sprials. A pack, which fell faster than the ones above, even with the upper hand. With the last slain, they pushed forward….

Bursting from the grates of the streets came the Center and the Rearguards. In droves the Gaians were seen, even as the Wyrm kept the great cloak fallen upon the shipyard. Erick Blood Eagle and Decker, El Capitan, Ruhle, called for order, called for places. The army of we bade their words true and followed orders, as we always do. Theurges collected in their nucleus around the Birthfather, Jim Larson. The pushed on. Even when the great tapestry was lifted, and the Wyrm released its minions upon us all.

The war had begun. "

With this she stood, once again, and closed those bedroom eyes. Reaching far within, she called upon the gifts bestowed upon her by the gibbious moon... and recalled, with PERFECT RECALL, every scent, sound, word, and act that was the Grand Finale.

http://lessa.blackdays.net/exploits/index.php?p=261

((As this scene is very, very, very long... and this post must be kept short... and already has not been... the link above will tell all what happened, for it is the Grand Finale which has been recorded by the official C&P wench. *thank you*.))

When she was spent, her body crumpled softly upon the ground. Laying upon her back, she stared into the starry night and spoke outloud, "The Bitch will be taught to all. In the following nights, I will be found within the Caern's walls. Gibbious moons, come when you will, for the complete, and unabridged version of this long epic."

((I will be writing in the forums the epic. Its really long, so as I have said, it will be piece melded together thru a series of posts for everyone to see and hear. Thank you, have fun.))

(shichiri kojun)
From the little Buddhist Uktena *G*

The Thief and the Master

One evening, Zen master Shichiri Kojun was reciting sutras when a thief entered his house with a sharp sword, demanding "money or life". Without any fear, Shichiri said, "Don't disturb me! Help yourself with the money, it's in that drawer". And he resumed his recitation.

The thief was startled by this unexpected reaction, but he proceeded with his business anyway. While he was helping himself with the money, the master stopped and called, "Don't take all of it. Leave some for me to pay my taxes tomorrow". The thief left some money behind and prepared to leave. Just before he left, the master suddenly shouted at him, "You took my money and you didn't even thank me?! That's not polite!". This time, the thief was really shocked at such fearlessness. He thanked the master and ran away. The thief later told his friends that he had never been so frightened in his life.

A few days later, the thief was caught and confessed, among many others, his thieft at Shichiri's house. When the master was called as a witness, he said, "No, this man did not steal anything from me. I gave him the money. He even thanked me for it."

The thief was so touched that he decided to repent. Upon his release from prison, he became a disciple of the master and many years later, he attained Enlightenment.

(sliver)
from the big bad shadow lord ragabash:

"the thief and the Kral

"one evening, the Kral Matej Deadly-Thunder was planning his next assault on the neighboring duchy to the west when a thief entered his house with a sharp sword, demanding money or life. without any fear, Matej said, "don't disturb me. leave my keep with your life and your sword, touch not a penny in my coffers." and he resumed his study of the maps without so much as a glance up.

"the thief was startled by this unexpected reaction, but he proceeded with his business anyway. while he was helping himself to the money, the Kral stopped and raised his head, calling, "don't take money from my coffers. leave everything as it were, and tomorrow i will not hunt you down." for you see, Matej was a kindly Kral, so far as Krals went. the thief heeded him not, however, and prepared to leave with bags heavy with gold. just before he left, the Kral suddenly laughed at him, "you took my money and you didn't even beg my forgiveness? that's not wise!" this time, the thief was really shocked at such fearlessness. he turned and ran away. the thief later thought to himself he had never been so frightened in his life.

"a few days later, the Kral's men caught the thief. when the Kral was called to lay sentence upon him, he said, 'for not heeding my warnings, let his ears be stabbed through with red hot pokers. for daring to lay foot inside my halls uninvited, and for daring to lay finger upon my belongings, let both hands and feet be chopped off and fed to the crows. and for not repenting and begging my forgiveness when he had a chance, let him be strung up naked over the castle walls where all can see his slow death by the crows and the elements.'

"the Kral, you see, was a fan of the over-the-top gruesome details, as is myself. they make the story so much more interesting, don't you think?"

when sliver laughs, it's honey and wine, nails and blackboard.

"anyhow. the thief was so terrified that he decided to repent, but it was too late. for seven nights and seven days he hung from meathooks over the ramparts, screaming for mercy and receiving none. on the eighth morning he died, and for two weeks after his body rotted slowly, carrion for the crows.

"obviously, he never achieved the rank the Kral held. and what's more, the commoners of the land saw the example his terrible death had set. none dared challenge the might of the Kral ever again."

with a sickle-thin smile in the direction of the uktena, the metis ragabash resumes his crouch with his tribe.

(trey bishop)
From the Mouth of Soda ~Ahem~ I mean Trey Bishop, Of the Coggies:

Ok, well listen carefully, for this is a tale of...well lots of things, just like movies you get to see at the theatres.
*Grins*

There once was a grand master of the waves, who was so good he just had to be Garou, and of course Ahroun, What tribe he was has been lost to legend. And he was so good, he forgot his own name, instead calling himself "The Big Kahuna".
Now the Big Kahuna rode the waves day and night, beneath Sol and Luna alike, each of them praising him in their own way, Luna making the waves swell and grow as they race to the shore, Sol heating the sky and spray, pushing the wind against the beach.

And for many years this happened, Luna and Sol growing more and more sure that it was their help and not the others who made The Big Kahuna so powerful and great.

Their bickering began small and tiny, until it Sol and Luna were chasing each other across the sky arguing at every chance.

And the Big Kahuna noticed, but he still rode the waves, strong yet prideful of his own importance.

And on one moonless night, something crawled from the waves as The Big Kahuna strode to the beach. Something monstrous, stinking of the wyrm's very essence.

So of course, The Big Kahuna did the only thing an Ahroun in his position should do.

He kicked the things ass.

It was a tremendous battle, claws and teeth nashing and lashing, blood and ichor flying..you know all the stuff that makes movies so popular...

And in the end, The Big Kahuna stood triumphant over the beast, it's beating heart lieing in it's torn open chest, and he howled to the sky in conquest.

"take the heart" he heard the ocean call on the waves. "it is my gift to you. to make you stronger...to ride the waves better."

Now, we all know it was not the waves or the ocean talking, but see The Big Kahuna was a great surfer and warrior, but that didn't leave to much time for the schooling.

Now as I was saying, The Big Kahuna heard the ocean's call, and promptly eat the heart in one gulp, licking his lips.

"Alright then."

And he did the only thing he could think of doing.

Surfing.

He grabbed his board, rode out to the waves....

...And sunk like a stone.

Luna and Sol returned, and not finding their Kahuna, then turned their attention back to the things they were needed in...like...giving light to flowers and such.

And as with most stories, there is a moral.

"No matter who your friends are, or how powerful you are, or even how big and tough you are....Never...Never go swimming after you've eaten."

*A grin to the crowd as he settles back, a chuckle rising in his throat*

(summer anne)
Summer Anne sits there with her pack, the cowboy hat firmly in place. Chin tipped up just so, she watches Pinky perform with a twisted combination of both envy and delighted pride. Wish she sing a song like that. Wish she could play like that. And also: that's her girl, up there, a-singing. The former beauty queen's mouth curls upward in dumb-ass smile that sparks a greenstorm in her eyes, 'cept they're hidden behind the brim of her cowboy hat so can't no one see 'em.

Next comes the Uktena, and Summer Anne listens hard but ain't too sure she's got the point of it. So if'n you make people say thank you...? What if that thief was a-thieving from other people an' they only caught him out for doin' the one crime? (Sometimes she likes to watch NYPD. They've got them some funny accents in New York City.) Mmmph. She'll hafta think about that one a-while, but the girl lifts her head and flashes the Uktena a smile that's likely lost in the crowd: just another one of the girls in a new, unrecognized pack.

Then there's a Shadow Lord, an' Summer has a hard time listening and not starin' at those horns curling out of its head. Her chin sinks, face falling further into shadow that hides both her close study and her expression, but the strange good giddiness of seein' Pinky perform is starting to seep outta her and Summer Anne can feel something darker, something sullen and black. She tilts her head to the side and stares out at the Shadow Lord as he finishes his tale, no longer fascinated by the devil-horns he is sporting, just watching and listening, silent.

When Trey's tale-telling, Summer Anne's no longer really listening. Her heart is beating faster and she can feel her palms sweating, nervous, because she's already half-resolved in her mind on her next course of action. She's just practicing in her head, the sort of practicing that isn't so much practice at all, more like a hamster running track around a wheel because she don't know really how to practice and don't know how to get beyond the first few words in her head, the opening, she'll know what to do, right? She'll be okay.

Summer flashes a glance at her Alpha for permission, not worrying that he won't give it, 'cos he'll always gives permission and then - laughing with the crowd at Trey's punchline (because she always laughs, because she's good at laughter, because laughter is as natural to her as growin' is to grass) - she's rising as the other Coggie retreats, heading to the center of the circle and wiping her palms off on the thighs of her jeans.

Once she reaches the center, Summer Anne doffs her cowboy hat, revealing her face as she hadn't really before, and the twin braids spilling down her back. Even with the french braids to keep her hair under control, she still has a pretty bad case of hat-head.

Summer Anne looks real different without the cowboy hat, just ordinary, just a girl, and the subtle thread of rage pulling through her is swirling through her as nervous energy, making her move. Soon as she gets up there, she knows she shouldn't've done it. The smile she offers the crowd is the same as her normal smile, but thinner, somehow, like the good parts have been shaved off'a it leaving only the curling of lips and the baring of teeth.

"So, uhm - " an inauspicious beginning, a very inauspicious beginning. Already, the girl is crushing the crown of her cowboy hat, crumpling it in her hand. It's not too hard, the whole hat is already so broke-down probably not even the Salvation Army would take it even if they could. " - uh, once upon a time they was this Lord. An' his name was uh, hmm - "

It doesn't take much to get her off-track. In this case, it was just a glimpse of the crowd of Garou, that sea of battle-hardened faces, all them strangers staring at her while she's talking ain't nothing like standing around hootin' and hollerin'. Summer Anne hems and haws over the name for a little while, digging her toes into the stuff beneath her feet like a reluctant bather - I ain't! Momma I ain't! Gittin'! NO! BATH! - when at last she comes out with something, in a great big rush. " - an' his name was'snogg." Heh. Summer's thin smile bleeds into a goofy grin, and she rocks forward on her toes before continuing and half-clarifying.

"His name was Nogg, an' he was a great big lord an' he set up on his mountain that he had done got - kinda stolen, see? - from someone else who was a great big lord before him an' probably stole it too, that big mountain. Anyhoo, ever-who come on up there to say hi or maybe to tell that big ole Nogg that they wasn't gonna give him no more of their cows or girls or gold, he done called 'em a thief an' strung 'em right up and killed 'em real slow like, they done with that guy what got killed by that crawl-guy and soon ain't no one come up to see him anymore so he didn't have no one to kill. So, he started sometimes when he was a'feelin' like killin' somethin' headin' off elsewhere to kill just a few folks, and didn't no one say nothin', an' soon they started sendin' him stuff to keep him from killin' people, an' he thought he was a real bad-ass after that 'cos couldn't no one stand up to him."

Once she gets going, it all comes out without much thought to phrasing or effect. She's just talkin' and grinnin' sometimes sheepish, sometimes regular, sometimes with real effect.

"So, that ain't the end of it. One day - years and years later, that Nogg he done had a good long reign up there on top of that big old mountain - some guys they got together an' they said, I bet that old Nogg has lots of treasures an' stuff. I bet we could get it if'n we all got together and took him out.

"An' so they all got theyselves together and they had a big ole journey and met lots of people an' asked some of them for help an' some folks didn't wanna give no help but other folks was jest so tired of that old Nogg doin' whatever he wanted with them thieves even though he warn't nothing but a thief, neither, that they finally all got together an' some of 'em made a big ole siege around the mountain an' some of 'em snuck inside and some of 'em got some help from the birds and it wasn't easy a'tall but eventually they killed that old Nogg."

Here the girl finally pauses, and after stomping through the rest of her tale like a steamroller, the effect is pretty damn heavy-handed. She feels like saying it again - they done killed him! - but she's startin' to feel a little foolish about the whole thing. Why'd she stand up again? But, well, she fixes on a picture in her mind and it soothes her a little bit, long enough to come up with a kind of epilogue.

"An' he fell from that old mountain and them new guys done took it, an' they had some arguments an' what-all but that ain't part of this story. Mostly it's about how they all got together to take out that old Nogg ever-when they all was right tired of his shit, which they did." Summer Anne's smiling again, maybe just a little bit pleased with herself, maybe just a little bit scared. She looks out at all them people and shakes out her cowboy hat, straightening out the crown, and sets it right back on her head at last. "An' that's the end of that story."

With that, she half-clicks her boot-clad heels together and tromps off to rejoin the rest of her pack, sliding in with the girls and pushing her hat down until the band is about level to her eyebrows or lower and the brim's shadow covers up the heat that's rising in her tanned cheeks.

(sliver)
"oh yes. i know that story. the little arguments the new guys had."

glint. since when did ragabashes know stories?
they didn't.

(they make 'em up.)

"might as well tell. finish the circle, yes? the new rulers of the keep who had overthrow the old, and his tyrannical, brutal ways. brothers, you can call them. idealists. brave, fine, shining warriors who had slain the proverbial dragon and now forged from his bones a gleaming new future. or so they hoped.

"how many were there of them? remind me. three? four? yes, four. but, ha ha, it was three before long, wasn't it?"

he gives the impression of a cat picking his teeth with the bones of the canary.

"because a month after the fall of the old Kral, the youngest blood brother fell from the highest tower. fell into thin air. fell a thousand feet, screaming, and hit the bottom so far below no one even heard his bones shatter to dust. it was an accident, of course, or so the remaining three brothers said. and, understandably, they were all very shocked and saddened by the tragedy.

"they were also somewhat frightened by it. the people were unsettled by this event, and they whispered. these whispers reached the ears of the brothers. and in the dark of night they mulled these whispers over. they grew to understand that there can only be one castle at the summit, one keep for each mountain's peak. and they began to wonder just how their youngest brother had fallen. and who would be next.

"the second brother fell in battle not long after. somehow he got separated from his noble siblings and the forces of the enemy swept him under and tore him asunder.

"the third and the eldest bore the weight of rulership together, shoulder to shoulder, for many months. then one night -- no one knows exactly what happened, but when dawn broke only one remained.

"whether he was the third or the eldest no longer mattered. he was the only now. and he seized the old crown. seized the old throne. seized the old mantle. seized the old title.

"and from the ramparts he hung the bones of his brother. thus he became the new Kral, stronger, deadlier, more feared than the last. thus was there peace again in the realm.

"...anyway. that's the version i heard. silly stories for silly children, fit only to be told by sinborn mules."

he will speak no more.

(pinky)
::POP! The sound of the young blonde's gum. She's a cute girl that Pinky. All smiles and curly blonde hair. The white stick of the lollypop she'd been sucking on through the string of oddly-related tales twirling about guitar pluckin' fingers. When Summer told her tale the young blonde cheered the loudest - as if this were a sporting event. Too. Gawddang. Hyper. The Horned-Shadowlord get up to speak again - the SECOND time, and Pinky? ...that girl started a fit o' sneezin::

"Oh geez, S'cuse me."

:: She's a blonde, a youngester at that, so she bats those purebred baby-blues before well-glossed lips start wrinklin together in apology - and THEN she sneezes again::

"Jeezalu Almighty, ah'm terribly sorry." .

::Sneezin' and coughin' before her Alpha finally extends a soothing arm - course BY THEN the story amounted to fragmented bits of explanations between someone's allergy attack. Damn Kids.::

(decker)
An even more unlikely storyteller -- the Modi. Doesn't stand, doesn't raise his voice, doesn't put on a show. Couldn't if he wanted to.

"Wantch'all ta r'member two o' Eagle's that fell in tha fight.

"Lars Drammenstein, Fierce-Hammer. Unearthed tha Pyrells in th' first place. Without him, wouldn'a even known what we was up against 'til it was too late. He was a good Forseti. Hard but fair. 'N he was a good Fenrir. Fought hard 'til the end. Never gave up.

"I know. I saw.

"Then there's Lexi. Followed th' Eagles since before we was th' Eagles. From Jersey to here. Ain't feared nothin'. Survived more'n one Wyrm raid in her time. Pro'lly helped take down more Wyrmlins than yer average new-Rited Cliath. Ain't many kinfolk kin say that.

"Both'a 'em fell at tha Caernraisin'. But Fenris claims th' best fer his own army. So y'all r'member their names. When Ragnarok comes we'll see 'em again."

Nothing more.

(trey)
"Lest we forget..."

Trey never knew any of those who fought for the caern, but he did hear of the battle, of the sacrifices they had made so that this night could come.

He bows his head, nodding gently to the Modi, respectful, before raising his head and pulling up his guitar.

"Uh..I'm not as good as Pinky here, but..." He smiles and shrugs.
"Don't look like you got a choice...This is...This is for them who fell, for those that lived, so we remember them...and that there's still a tomorrow.."

He looks at the fire, then to the guitar as he begins to strum his fingers over the strings, a simple rythmn combined with the tapping of his foot in a drum beat, encouraging those around him to join in.

The Friday sun bears down again
As we drive without friends
And on these longest days we spend
All the time trying to pretend
That our stories could be true
Our chance to be cool
The setting sunset says the day is through
If only we knew...

And we all sit around here in our sweet caern
Listen to the waves as they all crash down
And watch the fire as it slowly burns away

Glowing embers fly across the sky

Here by my side, in my summer, our last summer
The world passes by in my summer, our last summer
The light makes shadows fall, surrounded by each other
Alive to watch it all, the view from our last summer
The view from our last summer...

Trey looks around the congregation as he sings, changing the words ever so slightly as they come to him, making it more fitting.

We trace the sun across the sky
And we laugh till we cry
Always so hard to say goodbye
Gooood Bye

And we all sit round here in our sweet caern
It's so good like this, these are times we'll miss
The memories, I hope they'll never fade

Glowing embers lie across the sky

Here by my side, in my summer, our last summer
The world passes by in my summer, our last summer
The light makes shadows fall, surrounded by each other
Alive to watch it all, the view through our last summer
The view from our last summer...

I would stop time to stay with you
I would stop time so we don't move
I would stop time
I would stop time
I would stop time to keep you

Trey lets the cord fall into the air, still ringing as he licks his lips, a nod to the crowd.

"For those who can not be here and for those who are here." He smiles happily, putting the guitar back.

(leroy)
"Wuhhhh Whooooo! You go Soda" A deep rumbling laugh like a rolling thunderhead enraptured him. Clapping his massive hands twice before turning and moving away from the tale circle. His elbow nudging Nelly who was quiet for the moment. He wanted to hear her tale and was growing impatient as hell.

(shame)
Shame moves forwards, out of the shadows and to the edge of the circle, fist gripping restlessly at the bone when it's finally handed to him. His eyes darting back and forth, gaze licking across faces and bodies like the kiss of a lash, nervous and scared and looking like he might simply drop the bone and run. Instead, when the silence has grown long, and the pressure has reached a snapping point, he steps forwards and into the space.

"I - I have killed a vampire." Posture defensive, as if expecting derision. "With the help of a kin, E-va, well - it attacked her the first night. It tried to follow her into her lair, but I was close and threw it out. She shot it five times too." He pauses, as if letting these words sink in, and finds that something in his blood is stirring, is starting to enjoy following the progression of images in his head and simply translating them into words. Almost closing his eyes, he reaches out with one clenched fist and the other holding the bone, as if painting the image in his mind, "It was in the entrance, and I had just thrown it off me - it was very strong - when she pointed her gun at its head and bam bam bam -" Each shot punctuated by a sharp wave of the bone.

"It ran and disappeared. Another night we found it in a basement. Dark, rot, cockroaches, smell of old blood and copper. Darkness, foul. We went into its lair, and found its hole behind the wall. It leapt on me, and I met it in my birth form, and killed it." Losing confidence as he mentions his birthform. Pauses, looking around, hunching his warped shoulders.

"Killed it." Stretching out his clenched hand, he opens it and lets white teeth and fangs trickle free between his fingers like beach sand trickling into the ocean. The teeth cascade down onto the ground dance about his feet.

Shoulders hunched again, head ducked down, he whispers, "Killed it. With E-va's help."

And then he quickly turns and practically runs back into the shadows in the back of the warehouse, handing off the bone to the closest Garou.

[in progress]

Posted by james at 12:00 AM

.05.04.04. - cracking the bone 3 [moot pt.5]

[the caern - file - sasha speaks, sarah brings news of the trucks, binary calls wendigo for their kin, intro volcano's bratpack, cliona's warning, breandan re: the marcus issue, end]

(yu)
*A black feathered head peeks out of the mane of red Cliona hair and looks around. Quietly he crawls back to her shoulder*

(sasha)
Yes, the bitch with the bone, Sasha looks down at the bone in her hand, the instrument that provided her the right to speak. She clears her throat to draw attention, "I had issues that I wanted to bring forth, but after what I just experienced here at this moot. People speaking and acting out of line, not waiting their turn for the bone, and acting with uneccessary displays of anger and violence."

She turns her eyes to the Grand Elder, bowing her head to him, "Forgive me, Grand Elder, the Council of Elders, and to the rest of those assemble. I am severely disappointed with what has transpired in this meeting tonight. Our first moot for a new caern and it makes me wonder if this is what we will have every time our brethren gather at such large gatherings."

Sasha walks out in the center of the gather. "I am beginning to question if my abilities as Rite's Master and as a High ranking Theurge are to be placed in question. If there is anyone that feels I am unfit, or wishes to challenge my judgements when I am asked to perform my duties in front of Assembly and my Peers. Take the bone from my hand and challenge me for my position. If there is no one... then I ask for the respect acredited to my station and to perform my job as such."

(kris)
*Chuckeling to himself Kris watches on intently* Finally, another Garou who just basicly called them all meatheads.

(kemp)
Glancing around to see if anything more would happen or if the endless meeting would continue. He'd known what he was for less than a year. Been through two caern battles he never expected to survive and this was his first Moot. Not sure what he expected, but one thing was for sure, it wasn't all this drama and confusion. Nudging James with his shoulder just to let him know he was still sucking air and hadn't aged the hundred years he felt had passed so far.

(thunder's mirror)
Having kept in the distance he may not have been given any special attention before. However this warrior soon emerges from the darkness to join closer to the scene.
With dark eyes he scans thr crowd, recognizing faces he has seen before, however had no clue they were garou. He has kept himself relatively secluded, from the others. The Shadow Lords do prefer to keep with their own rather than mixing in with others. However such has been known to happen more than once or twice.
The man finds himself a seat, or more s spot to lean against. Not wanting to interupt the preceedings, he keeps as quiet as possible.
He appears to have shed a little of the restrictive clothing he might have been seen with before. His bare chest reveals the scars left behind in battles long since past. His hair, shaggy as ever blocks his eyes. As if the man had never been explained how to use a comb. His build is strong, and sturdy. However a bit more sleek than many warriors. Grace, and cunning are his forte, leave the brute strength to the Fenrir. If dying for Gaia is an honor, certainly living for her must be its reward. He is shoeless as well, his feet worn, bruised, and even bleeding. To this he pats no heed, from the look of the calouses and scars on his feet it is unlikely he has much feeling down there anyway.
He wears only a pair of pants, muddied, and torn. They cling tightly to his hips and seem in better shape than one would imagine such a man would keep them.

(npcs)
It would appear that no one intends to challenge Sasha for her position.

Certainly the Warder and Grand Elder have no designs on it.

Tura's head cocks left and right, listening for sounds.

(luca)
Well I certainly ain't gonna do it. He frowns a bit, while the silver fang had challenged her capability, he had been sent here to study under her.

She has to be at least good enough to hold her position, right? And there's somthing to be said for rank.

(Cliona)
She has no designs on the Master of the Rite position, and the slight smile offered Sasha says so. She respects the woman, and was as appalled as the rest at those who would step on her toes earlier. Therefore, she remains quiet. Still.

(decker)
Totemphone. Oh yeah, they had that. That might keep them awake. Uncomatose. Alive...

See why I lived without a caern fer two fuckin' years now, Kemp?

(sasha)
Sasha looks around the Assembled Garou, waiting, watching... and, if no one speaks up...

Going once... going twice...

(james)
the Ahroun's head tips slightly from side to side
he doesn't doubt Sasha's ability or validity
anyone that does should have brought it up when positions were called

the Totemphoned words are forshadows by the soft roll of growling laughter
Yeh.... so how the hell did the both of us end up on Council?

(sasha)
She turns her body, walking over to Tura, extending the bone to the Black Fury. "No one speaks. I give the bone back to you. I am done here."

The bone passed, Sasha turns away to resume her place once more.

(binary)
Binary yawns.

Mouth opening wide to show teeth, and tongue before she strestes forward shouldurts bunching forwards before resettling in place.

(jim/sarah/serg/hamish)
Sergei looks to sasha with a haughty 'you will do for now' look and a regal nod.

Hamish Gives Sasha a wink and nod smiling a bit then looks to the others as he waits to see what happens.

(npcs)
And the bone is passed to the patiently waiting Silent Strider guest.

(decker)
Decker's reply is something like...
NNNNGH.

(sarah)
Sarah takes the bone and bows her head "I come to seek the ear of the Wyrmfoe and the council of elders. I bring news that could mean many, in cities other than your own, may fall to wyrm taint if you do not hear me and take heed. A Caravan of trucks is due to pass through this town soon, carrying many crates of wyrm tainted food to a city beyond here. I happened to hear of it and thought to bring it before you all, hoping that you could stop it. I don't know when it is due to pass through but it will be soon my guess is not more than a few weeks time."

(james)
there's the beginning of a smirk crawling (lopsided) across the Gnawer's face
it must be due to something going on beyond the ears of the gathered Garou
(possibly as it was aimed at the Modi)
because as Sarah speaks, the expression melts away
back to business, it seems

"Wh't else c'n y' tellus?"

(sarah)
Sarah's eyes shifted to james "Only that they have not yet been sent. the sept who'se territory they are being sent from is under seige by the wyrm's minions as it is and cannot lend warriors to aid in this comparitively small matter, I was asked to bring warning."

(npcs)
"Which Sept is that? What territory?" inquires the Philodox with simple directness.

(sarah)
Sarah's eyes looked to the one who spoke to her "The Desert River sept of phoenix, Arizona. The caravan is due to avoid all other cities in transit to it's destination this much i was told. this is the only city on it's way."

(yu)
*Yu Gan tilts his head and looks to the other elders and back to the strider. More than a bit confused as to how a caravan is going to travel half way across the country and bipass cities.
He stands silent still, blood coating his fingers and dripping stickily to the ground*

(sarah)
Sarah looks at the faces "I don't know any more than this, I can only offer my warning and pass on the message as it was told to me."

(decker)
Now here's something a little more interesting than the politics of rule. At some point he'd reverted to his birth form, sprawled back along the crate he was on, his knees bent over the edge, his elbows propping him up. Now he flexes upright.

Decker works the docks. He works the trucking lines too sometimes, though it was tougher there 'cause the shipments were smaller, and the competition over work a little more fierce. Still, he knew something about something.

So. "One more thing, Strider. Hundreds o' trucks come through a city every day. How we gonna know the tainted ones from th' others? Cain't set Theurges 'n Metises ta sniffin' every one that comes through a weightin' point on tha highways."

(tucker)
He moves to speak. He works in shipping too. In fact, he sees Decker about every damned day at the docks.

But he's not allowed. So the young Silver Fang closes his maw.

(sasha)
Curiosity.
Attention drawn towards the new speaker.

(yu)
*Yu nods, Chicago is the major hub for north south and east west transit for the nothern half of the country. It's why the city is here. *

(jim)
Sarah looked to decker "They areemblazined with O'Tolley's logos and have arizona plates. also this much I can tell you it will be likely 4 to 6 trucks in close formation, I was told it was a large haul. perhaps you have those that could find more detailed information before they arrive?" she looks from face to face.

(npcs)
The Warder snorts.

The Grand Elder, more politick, looks around the gathered, "We will need one pack to volunteer to scout the situation. Find out the information we are missing."

(will)
*WIll pecks Cliona's shoulder. Bobs his head*

(sarah)
Sarah thinks for a moment perhaps the events tonight did fluster her after all "I can offer only one more possibility. The trucks in question may be followed umbrally by an unusual number of banes. I leave this to your capable (maybe?) Hands, may I ask a nights rest before I am due to move on with other news to other places?"

(decker)
Decker nods to Sarah. Then he waits to see if there's any volunteers. If there wasn't, he had a suggestion to make.

(luca)
"We'll go." He stands now moving to the center. His back sure as hell better be following him too.

"We're more than capable I promise ya."

(cliona)
“Th’Crows’ll go. Will here included as Affiliated.” quiet, determined.

(james)
quiet. thoughtful. nodding to take it all in
dark eyes glance to Decker in deference
sure, Eagles are fully capable
but recon isn't their specialty
and he's not about to volunteer the pack for anything

(summer)
When Luca rises, Summer does too, just a couple of steps behind him. Tipping her chin upward just enough to take a good gander at the assembled before head back down and hiding her face again. Her shoulders curl forward, then back, as she loosens her hold on her belt loops and lets her hands swing free for the moment.

(binary)
Quiet.

"Leonida is capable as well. Though we are also occupied with the Pyrell campaign."

(decker)
Or maybe he'd speak up about it anyway.

"Tucker's an insider much as any o' us kin be. Works shippin' lines like me. Whoever ya pick, he kin keep an eye out too."

The Modi levels a look at Tucker. Opportunity. And a challenge.

(sarah)
Sarah nodded to decker then bowed a bit and handed the bone to tura signifying she had said all she had to saw, a touch on the shoulder first to let her know she was there a slight smile for the blind truth catcher though she won't see it.

(tucker)
A wolfen smile to the Modi. Everytime he wonders why he ever liked the guy, he turns around and does him a big solid. While he might not admit it, Decker's gotta have some sorta loyalty to do somthin' like that.

His head nods a bit. Not speaking, not allowed. BUt he's willing to help, as is the pack behind him.

(fastball)
*Fastball blinks up at Tucker and shrugs. He'd help as best he can. O'tollies had those nummy "Gutbursters" burgers*

(npcs)
The Grand Elder looks at Decker briefly as he speaks, before inclining his head.

"The new pack, who I hope, we will have a name from, soon enough," a half grin that sports itself across his tanned face, then fades, "will be our scouts, supported by Tucker and his pack with their insider's position."

Moving on.

Binary is handed the bone.

(will)
*Will blinks and looks to Cliona and whispers with his beek at her ear* "Did we just get snubbed?"

(thunder's mirror)
He recognizes Binary more than anyone else. Perhaps that is the reason his attention seems drawn more in her direction than any others.
He cannot help but feel slightly ammused when he sees her again. Though if he is ammused it never registers on his face.

(cliona)
Well then. A slight shake of her head for Will, however. barely vocalizing. “Nae, lad. Give th’young a chance teh prove themselves.”

(binary)
The bone.
[...could be a weapon in those hands.]

--is held be the unremarkable saian woman, who stretches as she stands for the second time tonight. Leaning forward so that bones and joints taht align her back snap and pop undfer the stretching motion. Exhale.

"I speak to any Wendigo here tonight. I have located one of your own within the city - see me after the moot to claim her."

Thats all.
[...the bone is passed.]

(will)
*He ruffels his feathers but is at least smart enough to know when to shut the HELL up. A bob of his head and he preens Cliona's hair back into place*

(victoria santorelli)
She stands near to her Alpha, though her mind is already shifting off onto different paths. Almost every transport vehicle on the road is registered with some Department of Transportation, files cross-referenced and interlaced in any number of computers. A difficult search? Sure, though more for its needle/haystack nature than out of any real difficulty to get into the systems that hold the info. A couple of Boolean options and a lot of luck, and she could maybe find something...

Crap. No time to level-up in Final Fantasy XI for a few days.

(jim/sarah/serg/hamish)
Sarah moves out of the center to sit down and observe.

Hamish frowns as the job is taken out from under his pack by TNFG

Sergei listens to the strider silently and over the totem link to brand "Battle may soon be upon us, good i need some exercise."

(brand)
Brand, totemphone: As could we all.

(npcs)
The bone is passed back to Tura and Luca receives it next.

(tucker/luca)
Tucker nods turning back to his pack. Noting Fastball for a moment. How comfortable are you at doing some heavy lifting in homid form?

ROAD TRIP!!! called out over the totem phone to his packmates. His face turns to an expression of jubilation at the thought. Half lidded eyes floating up a bit in his wide smile.

Gonna show the old folks how we do things in 'Braska.

(fastball)
*Fastball, all 3 FOOT 6 inches of him looks up at the 9 or so feet of Tucker. Hands on hips. Sllooooooooowly looking down and over himself then up at tucker. Speaking only though Twisters Totem link Do I LOOK like somone that gets buy on heavy lifting there chief? A bit of amusement there.*

(luca)
Then, he turns, taking the bone, all serious now. [Well, a little giggly on some a that awakened cheeba but who's gonna call him on it? He ain't botherin' nobody.]

When he speaks it's a clear voice, youthfulll, proud and all of volcano's warning at once. "My name," he begins. "Is Luca Oliverio. Fugazi. Child of Gaia, Cliath. I'm Alpha of the pack you see behind me here. We're dedicated to Volcano, and looking to serve what needs to be done around here." Nodding. Across the nation stories conflict about whether chicago is a burgeoning new caern or one gone to hell in a handbasket, now he's beginning to see why. "You can call us whatcha want. It's been everthing from The brat pack, ta volcanos brats ta the teen titans. But we're the good guys, and we're he to help." He nods now, a bit awkward for anything else to say.

The bone is handed back and he sits again with his pack.

(summer)
Summer's smile sweeps wide - some sympathetic, unconscious responses to her packmate's delight - and the edge of her smile is just visible beneath the shadow cast by the brim. It's like she's the Marlboro Man, if the Marlboro Man were a sixteen year old girl who didn't smoke (cigarettes, anyway. didn't say nothin' about nothin' else) and didn't have a beard and did have a pair of long thick braids, and, well. The hat: that's Marlboro man-ish, and so is the way she uses it, and the way her smile sneaks out from the shadowy pool that swallows her face. Hands sunk into her pockets, now, still shifting constantly and minutely, itching to move but remaining still.

As Luca gets the bone, the girl's shoulders straighten and she looks up again, watching him.

(npcs)
The Warder at some point catches Sarah's eyes and nods faintly. Earlier on likely, so that his affirmation was connected to her request for a place to stay for the night, earlier. Right of guests and all that rot. That was what communal sleeping areas were for.

The Grand Elder nods his greeting to the new pack, and that is all.

Tura takes the bone, and Cliona is next.

(cliona)
She takes the bone, and nods her thanks as she steps forward.

“A warnin’.”
Pause. Damn fianna – always so dramatic.

“Yeh know o’th’scoutin on th’pyrells. M’boys and m’self and Will here went in just last week, teh scout umbral side. We sidestepped, and inteh the most incredible pain we e’re had experienced. Faded then t’th’clean hospital smell, th’faded as well. The scape itself was mottled, th’color o’rotted flesh. We expected it teh be bad, wrong, so was nae –too- suspicious at first, though in hindsight.... well. Will here, he was th’first teh waken enough to see th’meaning, and got back teh us with th’warnings.”

Yes – one Corax they all want to turn into KFC, the other has earned her respect many times over. Loyalty – it’s a beautiful thing.

“We wasna in th’umbra atall. We’d felt we’d been walkin forever, but nae getting anywhere. We saw it from outside our own bodies – which were strapped teh tables. Curata with his skull removed, tech’s pokin at his brains. Kegan minus a few teeth. Will with them pokin at his eyes, and m’self cut open with m’breedin bits spread o’re th’table. We faught our way back inteh our bodies, and killed everythin in sight on th’way out, before Will here got us teh a safe house teh do th’cleansin and healin enough teh get home.”

“A shrug, slight. “Th’fire in th’paper, 20 dead – that was th’cover up o’the mess we left, where we was held, a ways away from th’building we’d sidesteped next teh. Th’thing is – we dinna know how th’trap was laid, or how it was triggered, or how many th’are. We were right outside th’Pyrelle Acquisitions buildin. Dinna know how far away would be safe – but safe teh say within a block tis nae smart knowing what weh do now.”

“So, I bring yeh th’warning, in hopes yeh don’t end up as we did, setting off another such trap.” She nods, and offers the bone back. She’s finished, unless there are questions.

(tucker)
Then you're gonna come to work with me tomorrow and use some of that sneakin' mojo you got. He nods after the totem message and turns his attention back to the moot.

(will/fb)
*Will bobs a bit on Cliona's shoulder. Looking around as she talks.

*Fastball looks up at tucker and nods. Looking around the moot again. His tail wagging softly. Scenting the air*

(npcs)
"What was the address?"

(will)
*Wills foot lifts and opens and closes for the bone*

(james)
nod up, Eagle style
acknowledged
the new pack
Cliona's valueable warning

"Volcano's kids got territ'ry claim'?"

more curiosity than official demand
though expected answer put to the wayside as the GE speaks

(summer)
...and, the girl steps back again when Luca's finished, back into listening mode. Listens to Cliona's tale with her head half-cocked, idly musing on both the warning - which she doesn't, for that matter, really understand - and whether this new assignment will interfere with her weekend plans, which include scraping together enough money to watch Troy all day long next Friday, sitting in the air conditioned dark, with an endless supply of popcorn.

If Orlando Bloom is wearing a toga, she plans to rewind and repeat on Saturday. And now, she's hardly even thinking about, you know, the warning, and - is Troy Greece or Rome? Couldn't they wear togas either way? Or maybe a little leather skirt? She's not picky at all.

(cliona)
She tips her head toward Will, and hands him the bone. He gathered a lot of the resources – tis his part o’th’tale.

(luca)
"Nope." Replied simply to the dreadlocked man. "We go where ya need us, and we try not to cause too much trouble."

(will)
*He grips the bone in one foot, then speaks in Cliona's own voice. The mimicry perfect* Ah've got th' ad'ress, 'Cludin' th'buildin's lay oot an' tha piccie's of tha' fir' taken both 'fore an af'ta tha fire.
Digital an glossy's, fer ya viewin' plesure"
*He hands the bone back to Cliona*

(npcs)
A slight nod of the Grand Elder, acknowledging. He, or more likely, Barny who can make better use of it than the GE, will get the address and the pictures later.

Tura's eyebrow arches over her ruined eye sockets as she holds out her hand for the bone.

(james)
the Ahroun's head moves
a slight tuck of chin towards collarbone
another acknowledgement of simple reply

(spider)
Spider's jaw flexes with the tension of muscles moving and tensing beneath the thin layer of flesh. And his eyes narrowed, glaring at the crow.

(cliona)
Spider's jaw flexes with the tension of muscles moving and tensing beneath the thin layer of flesh. And his eyes narrowed, glaring at the crow.

(will)
*The RAVEN Sits proudly on Cliona's shoulder, Silent now that he doesn't have the bone. Behaving*

(npcs)
And last (least?) Breándan.

(breandan)
Brendan takes the Bone with a smile of thanks. For those who haven't seen him before, he's a whip-lean young man. Looks about 20. But then appearances deceive. Medium length dark hair. And a charmer's grin. He usually wears a denim jacket sewn with patches from all over the world. And does so tonight. THe only thing incongruous about him is his ice blue eyes, startling cold in a friendly, boyish, and entirely too handsome face that could easily cross into unambiguously beautiful.

"Everyone's tired so I'll try to make this quick." YOu haven't heard High Tongue until you've heard it spoken by one of the descendants of those who invented it -- the Irish Fianna. "I'm Breándan Ó Cathasaigh out of Cork County, Ireland, called Smilin' Bren. Me and my packmate Uaghaihg" he nods at the big roanhaired Ahroun standing beside him, grinning off in his own world, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched -- drunk -- "are setting up on Skid Row. I'm cousin to Cliona Murran, and a Fiann of the Ragabash persuasion.

"Unfortunately, I have a dirty matter to bring before the Council regarding a kinswomen dear to me, Aoife Ryan. She was lately attacked in her home by an unknown Garou who identified himself only as 'Marcus'. I can only hope some of you have heard of him." He looks around to see if any would step forth. "So that we can bring this offender to justice."

They can sense the Irishman struggling to maintain composure as he goes on. "The honorless cur forced herself into her home, abused her hospitality, slandered her, threatened her, very nearly RAVISHED her, and when she resisted, carved her face open with his claw and wrecked her home in vengeance. Cliona saw the mess left behind, and healed Aoife. Both she and Aoife can speak of the wrongs done unto a helpless kin before any Philodox you choose, and you will see they speak no lie.

"Now we Fianna do not take such things easily. Our hearth and homes are everything to us. We like our vengeance hot and bloody. Yet in deference to your wisdom, Council of Elders. I humbly request that this matter be attended to in the manner you see fit.

"As her rightful guardian. And as a member in good standing with the Fianna. The whole of the Fianna will agree with me in wholeheartedly supporting whatever judgment you deem best. Thank you."

Short he'd said. Bowing his head respectfully Brendan steps back and hands the bone back to the Truthcatcher.

(will)
*Will bobs his head to that and raises a foot/claw*

(spider)
Spider's attention from the crow [raven, whatever. still one dead bird.]

In one smooth movement, he settles his gaze on Binary, anticipating her reaction.

(cliona)
She nods to Brendan – she’ll speak to anyone who needs to hear to verify. other then that, she remains quiet.

(binary)
Binary nods To Brenden.

"I know of a Marcus - I will verify if he is the one you are looking for - and handle the issue accordingly. I thank you for bring it to my attention."

(james)
inconsistent with the earlier addresses
this time, James manages a shadowed frown
but mantains some degree of objectivity throughout
(Oogie, what a.... pleasent..... surprise to see you again....)
judging Cliona's reactions as well as Breandan's

but as silence returns, he doesn't share an opinion just yet
instead glancing to the other Elders, allowing them to speak first

(decker/brand)
Decker wigs out.

Quietly, of course. But his rage amps up tenfold. On his arms, cords stand out as he grips the edge of the crate. Wood buckles and splits in his human (homid, at least) hands. Binary can hear his teeth grind from halfway around the semicircle of Elders.

His seething eyes flash to Binary.
One word: "How."

Brand takes it a lot better. He just glances briefly at Binary as she says she'll handle it. Very well. Let the Urrah deal with the Urrah. All the better to keep his hands clean.

"That is acceptable to me," rumbles the burly white Crinos.

(thunder's mirror)
He seems unconcerned by what is mentioned. To him Garou serve a greater purpose, and should always be placed above kin. No doubt a Shadow Lord would no better than to assume there is only one side to a story. He just prefers to stick with the one he likes best.

(npcs)
Balance without Fault is quiet throughout Breándan's speech, his brow furrowed, not so much for the subject, but in quiet internal thought.

For a moment, the Grand Elder's attention swivels to Binary as she speaks, and considers her a moment. And now she has Decker to answer.

(hamish/serg)
Hamish tensed he looked angry and from the glint in his eye he might not be satisfied with the council's actions if it doesn't involve the offending party's intestines decorating a tree trunk while he's dragged away by spooked horses drivin' to run by his own inner rage. then he might have to handle it himself but he stays quiet.

Sergei seems cold as always but his stance becomes dangerous, well even more dangerous. in a subdued sort of way.

(yu)
*Yu Gan speaks softly* The right of a mate would overshadow any tibal punishments. If the Fianna's mate was harmed it should be his punishment dealed out. At least in my thoughts.

(binary)
[..Tell me how do you throw an ax?]

The woman returns his gaze, Decker is fairly notorious for the violence that echoes from his fingertips. [Fostern. Modi.] And while all of these variables may include a reaction to the rage rage tremblesm, its not shown outwardly. Only the cool shift of gaze.

"That would be my between me, the Fianna, and him if it IS him."

(cliona/anne)
Her jaw tenses, slightly. She’s not happy – but all she can do is offer to speak. That Binary would take the right from Brendan to exact his judgment does not set well at all. But she says nothing. He said they would abide by the council – and they will.

For now.

she feels Hamish’s rage kick up a notch – totemphone. ~Easy m’lad. We’ll get’im.~

(hamish)
Hamish glances to cliona over the totemphone "Aye lass. but do we get te' castrate him with a broken whiskey bottle then drop 'im in a tank O' Rokea af'erwairds?"

(binary)
Hover to YU Gan.

"I disagree. This isn't the Wild West. And taking law into your own hands rashly, will not be acceptable. The situation will be dealt with in a quick and fair manner to parties concerned."

(breandan)
Brendan's jaw tightens, but he bows again.
"If that is the wish of the ELders," he looks at the Grand Elder, "I will stand by it."

(yu)
*Yu looks to Binary* Said like somone that's not had a mate abused. We are garou. We take laws into our own hands every day. We are each mass murderes by our 20th birthdays.
We have rules to follow. Honor to uphold, if it's his mates honor, it's his to reclaim one way or another.
To denigh him that is to condone the crime and puts you in the same shadow as the act itself.

(decker)
Decker: "If," sneered, as only a homid Garou in birthform can, "his ass is guilty. What would you do. Binary-yuf."

(thunder's mirror)
Too often a males judgement is clouded when he hears mention of a woman being hurt, or injured, or even murdered.
Do women not kill? Do women not Hate? Are women not the center of the greatest legendary acts of treachery throuout all time?
Binary's cool demeanor, however. Does reassure the full moon that Justice will be handled carefully. It would be a sad thing to see any garou rended limb from limb due to what could be a simple misunderstanding. After all, throuout history, women have not been known for their impecable sense of honesty either. Not that he hates women or anything of the sort. He merely feels a rational approach should be made to all this.
So his silent assessment continues. Watching each face, each person, listening to every reaction, and judging the worth of each one's "Character".

(cliona)
Totem ~Tis m’boy Bren’s call. We’re th’back up only on this one. But we’ll see him castrated yet, yeh wait an see.~

And a brow quirks at Yu Gan. She’s only met him once or twice – but she sees him a bit differently now. In a good way. And Decker’s sneers are always appreciated – when directed in the right way, as they are now.

(james)
the Gnawer snorts
quick. fair
he's not as explosive as his packmate
but he doesn't particularly feel that fair or quick or even humane should be involved
that much shows in the half-smirk ghosting over his features
(Full Moon's rage storming in deep umber eyes)
if, of course, this Marcus is guilty of the charges

James remains quiet for a little longer, listening to the others

(kris)
*Getting tired of the conversation Kris shifts into Corvid form flying down into the building and over the head of the gathered Garou than out the door on his way home on the other side of the Umbra*

(binary)
There is no accompanying smirk to Yu Gan's words, "No, My kin are well provided for." Arrogance perhaps. Of course if her kin hasn't been abused, thats a positive thing, right?

If.

Gaze Flick to Decker.

"Incapacitate him. And hand him over to the Fianna? If. He. Is."

Simple.
Easy.
Efficent.

(yu)
May they always be so blessed. *A nod to Binary as she says handing him over to the fianna. The sticky crimson blood still dripping from the right hand. Pooling on the umbral ground by his side*

(decker)
Tic in the jaw.
He almost. almost growls.

But then the Modi settles back. Doesn't sit, because he's never stood -- doesn't slouch, because he's never straightened. Nevertheless the change, no matter how slight, is palpable. He spits to the side, contemptuously, but in that motion breaks the challenge of his stare.

Fine with him.
Barely.

(tucker)
The Silver Fang shakes his head angrily. This guy may have beat up Miriam, and he's been hurting other kin as well? Nope. He's dead.

(fb)
*Fastball kicks tucker in the shin, speaking over that innate pack bond, thoughts spinning out of his mind and into Tuckers. Don't you know that's just great for the ahroun?* What's happin' Capin? Why the long face?

(breandan)
Brendan looks to Cliona to confirm....then back to the council. "Binary-rhya is just. The Fianna have nothing further, if this is acceptable to the Grand Elder.."

(tucker)
The guy might have beaten up my ex mate. And I pledged to cliona i'd protect the Fianna kin right after Aoife got hurt. I'm not leaving the fucker alive. Simple enough answer.

(fb)
*Fastballs ears fold back and he looks around the group, cmmunicating over the bond again*Might wanna either get in line.. or keep that on the down low, brow. Just some advice.

(npcs)
"I agree. Should he be found to be the one responsible, the wronged party is the one to mete out justice." There is a faint tone to his voice.

Within reason. of course. (Whoever really expected the Fianna to be reasonable?)

Tura takes the bone, and pauses, listening. "Has all issues been aired that can be at this moot?"

(tucker)
It was already my line. And that's the last he'll say on the subject.

(james)
he doesn't allow the soft huff of laughter to become audible
reasonability entirely depends on definition
this should be interesting

but the Gnawer Elder nods
he can accept it

(yu)
*Fastball looks to the rather imposing Fury and would like to say something but can't. Sighs and his tail droops*

(binary)
And she sits.

Time to go.
Time to go.

(thunder's mirror)
He hears it all, and is honestly displeased with what he hears. He does however keep his mouth shut, lest he draw the mobs ire in his direction.
He leans back in his position and waits. This matter is not his concern. He knows nothing of either party involved. Still he is entitled to his oppinion.

(decker, et al)
Decker: Finished.
Brand: Finished.
sliver: Finished.
And Jackson: Finished.

(ana)
Flesh of Fire gives no indication as to her own opinions on the matter - her storm-flecked eyes instead stoic on each member of the council as decisions had been discussed and made. She has moved near Thunder's Mirror - a silent, stalwart presence at his side, the earlier glimmer of fury (-dare, passion?) that had lost her her temporary elder position, as if it never were. As if she were not capable.

(cliona)
Cliona - finished.
AnneMarie – as silent as ever, and apparently not about to break the trend anytime soon. The Tar Crawlers, as well, are finished.

(bren)
Brendan is done. He winks at Summer Anne again on his way back to the other Fianna. It was practically his gaia-given duty. There he settles down with Uag and the other Fianna. Time for Songs And Tales.

(yu/fb/jaan)
*Yu gan is finished.*
*Fastball can't talk*
*Jaan hasn't said anything all night and doesn't appear to be about to.*

(james)
one Bone Gnawer Fostern
finished
(summer)
Once more, Summer Anne blushes beneath her tan. Except for the ridiculously girlish way she ducks her head, it's her only response. (Well, she also elbows Vickie and toes Pinky awake again.) Other than that, she's definitely absolutely 100% completely and thoroughly finished, having said, uh, precisely nothing.

(npcs)
And Tura's job is finished for the night, to be replaced by the Talesinger. Songs and stories to follow, and the revelry afterward.

And thus ended the first Moot at the sept in Chicago.

(thunder's mirrow)
He looks to Flesh of Fire, a nod of Acknowledgement, and welcome for the woman. Their eyes meet only for a moment, before he turns back to face the preceedings.
He crosses his arms over his bare chest and waits silently. As if etched out of marble the figure remains silent as to anything he might think, or feel.

(tucker/vaughn/luca)
He mves now toward the the spot the rest of the Garou do for the songs and tales. Micro crinos once again hoisted atop his shoulders, Jo is gestured to follow. [Pack. Move as one.] And none speaks, audibly until Jo spins her tale.

James joins for this portion as well. Though he merely listens. A man's tales show his personality. And a crack in the personality is a weakness to be exploited later.

The theurge is smiling wide as ever as he moves to the center of his pack of young misfits. They have a purpose now, and they've been introduced. Time for a song and a story one would think. The young man smiles running his hand through frosted blonde locks. "C'mon."

Posted by james at 12:00 AM

.05.04.04. - cracking the bone 2 [moot pt.4]

[the caern - file - yu gan explains cinnamon's plight, her trial before council]

(npcs)
Being blind, Tura's ears are sharp. It makes 'speaking out of turn' a whole new ball game.

The bone is whipped around to point in the direction of the Fianna pack, "Be quiet."

The Grand Elder and Warder's attention (and probably every one else's) turn toward the Fianna pack, a moment of stark consideration, before gaze turns back, as Tura offers Barny the bone, and he is allowed to speak his challenge.

(jim/ham/serg)
Jim looks confused at the long winded account of what happened, in his current mood he didn't know what to think.

Hamish's stance took on a more, disturbed and angry tone to it but he said nothing. that sounded alot like how angus was lost, he should know he wrote the tale.

Sergei's eye narrows a bit boring into the pack who killed the ragabash but he couldn't fault their reasoning, still killing garou IS against the code of honor but he was no philodox.

(nahi)
Nahimana steps briefly to Yu's side and whispers in his ear

(spider)
Spider thinks to himself, This is very unfortunate. Then he shrugs to himself, All well, and contemplates the nature of karma.

(brendan)
Brendan bows his head. All contrite. But the grin is still in place.

(decker/brand/sliver/jackson)
Pretty obvious what Decker's response is gonna be. He had a similar one the last time someone (a packmate, that was.) went CRUNCH, oops. Right of Retribution, and all that Viking crap.

Brand, rough granite of countenance, keeps his own damn counsel. For the now.

Moving on then.

Decker doesn't rise again. Crinos still -- High Speech still. For all his ineloquence, his rough and accented words in Homid, his Pure Breeding shows through in the warform. There's nothing but snow and ice and the rocky desolation of the far north in his words here.

"About time, Wyrmfoe. I'll find you within the week."
Matter over.

(barny)
Barny nods, before handing the bone back to Tura, and stepping back to his pack again.

(sasha)
Quiet. Serene. Standing alone and without a pack around her.
The Mistress of the Rite watches the proceedings with great interest.

(npcs)
Barny and the Knight's matter over with, Yu Gan is offered the bone next, the Truthcatcher offering the Uktena the bone.

(jim)
The Unknown strider waits patiently while those of the sept spoke. obviously her news wasn't so crucial that it needed to be given with haste.

(yu)
*Yu Gan takes the bone when it’s passed to him and steps to the center. Not one to usually make big speeches he takes a breath. Turning to the Sept elder and the elders of the represented tribes.

His voice comes out soft and melodic when he does speak, holding no traces of the Asian accent that some might think he would have. *

I am Yu Gan, known as Fasttrack, Fostern, acting elder of the Uktena here in Chicago. Alpha of the quick and I bring before the elders and Sept a concern.

During the caern battle one of my own pack fell. She was swept away in a tide of banes too many to count. For a month we’ve counted her lost and probably dead. Our own totem has severed the bond to this garou.

Recently she’s returned. This is not the first time she’d been taken by the wyrm to escape. She claims to not know why a tide of banes too many to count would simply leave her alive and unharmed. She claimed not to know much about her missing month.

Roadrunner has released her from our pack. It is my concern that something might be amiss with this. We all know that the wyrm would not let one of our number go with out reason. With out thought. This isn’t the first time it’s happened and the trend is concerning.

I put it before the council that our elders, theurges and Philodox need to check her over for any possible sings of anything that might not be of gaia.

There may be scars that simply don’t show up commonly in tests and we owe it to our caern, sept and nation to be sure.

My own pack is too close to this matter so I bring it to the Sept Elder and council. I myself will not be voting on it should it come to her death. I’m too close. Should death be ordained though, I claim that duty as her former Alpha.

Thank you.

*He bows and looks to the council. Motioning for Cinnamon to be brought forward. She’s not in chains or the like but she’s been watched since her return.*
(binary)
She's there.

Player still sorta catching her breath.

So uhm yeah.

(tucker/vaughtn/luca)
Tucker's face [Maw.] is one of menace now. He had done the same and taken tenfold the shame. And his sin was not the outright murder they've committed.

All respect. Is lost.

What. An unfortunate. Turn of events...

Luca nods a bit thinking. Over the pack bond, a mere whisper on the totem phone. This does not seem like a member of our tribe, no not at all.

(cin/tes)
*She steps forward, waiting to find out what they say. If they ask for her version of what happened first or just go to the testing to see if she's wyrm tainted or not, she keeps her hands fisted in her pockets*

(jim)
Jim stirs a bit wanting to stand with cinnamon out of habit and friendship despite the pack bond but only half a step does he take before he turns to look away, maybe he was ashamed, maybe he just didn't want to accept what might be.

(nahi)
Nahimana reaches out a hand and gives Cinn's shoulder a squeeze. Her face is stoic as she prays to Gaia that Cinn is not tainted.

(decker)
Decker
"Honeysuckle-yuf," looking at Sasha, "do you have the gift of Wyrm Sensing?"

(tucker)
The Alpha of the brat pack stands, head held a bit higher. Quietly adding. "I can help. If you'd like, Yu Gan." Nodding a bit, voice spoken in the low speech. "I'm pretty good with stuff like that."

(binary)
Rage.
Fear.
Disgust.
Joy.
Elation.

There are all images that would be a new sight to those of the sept on the features of the asian. Instead a hand reaches back to pull the elastic from her ponytail'ed hair, fingers grazining against the follicles there in. Moots are rarely exciting and it seems she has nothing to say.

(sasha)
Slender brows lift upward as she was addressed, Sasha (in her homid form) bows her head. "I do, Silence-yuf."

(decker)
Decker
"Please," he nods at Cinnamon. Sasha's the highest of the Theurges, after all.

Brand -- confers quickly and quietly with Jaan.

(serg)
Sergei would step forward if he was inclined to do what could easily be handled by his lessers for now he simply watches.

(summer anne)
Summer Anne's head has sunk close to her chest, and the cowboy hat hides the whole of her face from the rest. She's just another of a veritable gaggle of blond girls - jailbait, all - who seem (sometimes) more like a dysfunctional cheerleading squad than a pack of Garou. At the brush of her Alpha's mind, her head jerks upward and her breath expells in a long slow hiss.

She can feel the moon above them. It keeps the blood in her veins boiling at a slow simmer. Sometimes s'about the past. Sometimes s'about the future. Her gaze glances off her Alpha's profile and sinks back toward her knees. An awful lot of people standing around. An awful lot of this is going over her head. And, hey - an awful lot of it is boring.

Her head twitches again to the side as Luca stands up, and now her attention is riveted on the center and all them people up there.

(cinn)
*she gives Nahi a gratefull look, then glances towards the garou she knows little of, she's not worried, not fidgeting, beyond keeping her hands in her pockets. Small slashes of mourning mar the inner side of her forearm.*

(pinky)
::Zzzzzz. Zzzzzzzz. Zzzzzz. Blink! Baby blue gaze snaps toward her alpha as he speaks. Pinky's wolf-form'ed head lifting from Patchouli's knee even as tail begins to wave back and forth::

(sasha)
Sasha turns her head in the direction of Cinnamon, giving the young garou a discerning expression. She speaks up to Decker, "Very well."

Attention focused, the Gift Sense Wyrm casted upon Cinnamon.

(yu/fb/jaan)
*Yu gan looks to the elders and the rite master* I would like help from those with the most knowledge and rank in these matters.
*He nods to Sasha and the Philodox among the counsil and what not*

Fastball sits and sniffs the air. Looking around*

*Jaan shakes his head, it's not for him to say one way or another. He wasn't on the counsil and this was not a challenge. (( and I'm NOT judging the thing with another of my chars))**

(nahi)
Nahimana watches Cinn and Sasha closely, her face a stoic mask

(hamish)
Hamish sets these events to memory so he can write a suitable tale.

(tucker/vaughn/luca)
Tucker's almost ready to challenge he supposes, so why not, right? He turns to the possibly fallen former member of the quick. Now a broken lone wolf. He sniffs a bit in her direction moving toward her, examining. Using all of his crinos heightened, senses to detect any signs of Wyrm taint.

Luca has not the rank of most of the others, but he does have the knowledge one needs for somthing like this. He calls now to any fox spirits, or coyote spirits in the area to investigate her, with their clever tricks they may be able to find somthing he cannot. He does now shift down to his thinner tall lupus form, plodding toward cinnamon. Using his own gifts to sense the wyrm taint within.

((Spirit speech/Snese Wyrm for him.))

(sasha)
Sasha gives a shake of her head, "I smell no taint."

(cinn/tes)
*she shivers with the will to stand still and watch those sniffing at her like carrion eaters at a corpse. She cant be absolutely sure she isnt tainted, so when the first person says she's not, she quivers with a will not to break into tears, waiting to hear if everyone comes to the same conclusion.*

(binary)
Binary says nothing.
[....seems like a trend.]

Gaze flick towards spider - a raised brow. [..intersted..?] so much can be said without anywords at all.

(decker)
Decker turns his stone hard gaze upon those who were sniffing along with Sasha. It's a full moon. He's in a bad mood (again).

"Don't trust your Mistress of Rites' ability? Is that a challenge to her rank? Sit down, Cliaths."

A curt nod in Sasha's direction, a flickering glance. His stare stays on the errant sniffers.

(nahi)
Nahimana lets out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, she forces herself to not reach out and hug Cinn...Yet

(kemp)
Rests his chin on his knees. Holding in the urge to snicker with Decker's words.

(jim)
Jim nods to himself and turns around he glances at cinn then back to the ground.

(sasha)
Black eyebrows knit forward into a frown, turning her head to just stare at the others that sniffed as well.

She will most certainly be waiting for an opportunity for that bone to come her way.

(spider)
Spider produces a gun, purposefully snaps a bullet into the chamber, and then Glares at Luca.

Call that spirit again, I fucking dare you.

Any spirits that do answer the call are unceremoniously dismissed with a wave of his hand.

(brendan)
Barred from talking he seeks alternate entertainment. Winks at Pinky and Summer Anne. My, they were cute, weren't they.

(yu)
*Yu Gan looks to the Elders to see their reactions. Some how he doesn't think a use of a gift learned by cliaths is going to be quite enough to midigate the possiable threat here, but he says nothing.
Looking to Decker and then to Sasha. Tossing her the bone. He's Fostern but newly so. He readily bows before her surperior knowledge in these things.

the bone flips lightly though the air to Sasha's hand.*

(cinn)
*She barely contains a snort at Decker's words, but what emotion it carries is hard to tell. Probably mostly nerves and trying not to laugh suddenly on the edge of hysteria. Being a singer on stage had NOTHING to compare to what was going on now.*

(tucker/vaugn/luca)
"No Decker, I don't." But he does stand down, the gift unfinished. "Guess I can't be sure." His respect holds him back from unleashing his edginess from the full moon upon his former Beta. He walks over now and stands, near the rest of his pack.

Luca pauses. Cocks his head in the direction of the Fenrir. As the spirits aren't nearby enough to call with his voice and he doesn't have time to enact a rite. He turns to Decker giving him his best glare. [You aren't my dad. You can't talk to me that way!] But he walks back to his apck, in homid, but not before giving the finger to the walker with wandering eyes. "Starin' problem?"

"I can't tell either. Didn't get much chance." Not with old mean and Ragey over there anyway.

(james)
the raggedyman hasn't moved much from the comfortable perch on a crate
watching. learning.
a sound chuffs - disapproving - after the Modi's snarl
he's not going so far as to verbally second the opinion
but the Ahroun wasn't exactly impressed with the infringement on Sasha's digs, either

(pinky)
:: We got your entertainment right here. That man thae glare-glare-glaring man with the gun is looking at her alpha, and the wolf bristles pushing past Patchouli to press her muzzle against Summer's leg. Bad man. Bad man. Gun bad. The youthful voice resonates over the totemphone, edged feral like the form the Omega assumed.::

(npcs)
The Grand Elder watches as Sasha activates her gift, and gives a brief inhalation as the Theurge speaks. Not good enough. Not enough information.

What he was about to say is cut off by the Warder. Stepping forward and simply standing between the two theurges, his massive back blocking the two. He says nothing, but his quiet cool gaze says it all.

The Grand Elder's attention lifts again, "Binary, come here, please. A philodox," the Philodox smirks briefly, "to smell the truth." Eyes turn toward Cinnamon, "Tell the council your story."

(kemp)
Casting a glance up towards James from his perch on the ground near him. Pure amusement and mischief dancing in the murky green depths of his eyes.

(cliona/anne)
Been quiet, silent. Watching.
Even now, as she shoots others a glare for infringing on Sasha’s digs, and Tucker for outright claiming distrust of one who’s ability has been proven by experience and rank...

Typical.

Silent she remains. Listening.

(summer)
Summer Anne's eyes widen as she catches the leading edge of Brendan's wink. Pinky might return it, but she just ducks her head further down to conceal the faint curl of her blush. The girlishness lasts about 3.4 seconds, however. Her head snaps up and her eyes narrow, lean figure tense with bristling irritation, eyes narrowing on Spider what with his gun and all.

(kegan)
~Kegan stands with his pack and listens to the people speak and watches the actions of others~

(yu/fb/jaan)
*Yu Gan looks to the elders and those called forward or sent back. He was too close to say anything here, now.*

*Fastball covers his eyes at tucker and shakes his head, hoping his alpha doesn't get kicked.*

Jaan stands with the fangs. Watching curious.*

(victoria santorelli)
Silent. Quiet as a mouse (no pun intended), she stands by her pack. She notes the interplay with Luca, noting faces and voices. She doesn't speak - yet. Brown eyes taking everything in.

And then her head perks up even more, at the call for Binary. Philodox. Hmm.

(sasha)
A few steps taking forward to catch the bone with her hand. Her eyes cut across to Luca's retreating form. Fingers curl tightly around the bone. Lips parted to speak, but no words form, only the soft exhalation of her breath, issued in a soft snort as the Grand Elder spoke. She doesn't speak, but continues to hold the bone.

(hamish)
Hamish glares at tucker, their score was not yet settled, by a long shot...

(cinn)
I was not taken uninjured. When I came to my senses I was lost in the forest in the Umbra. At the time I didnt realize it was a place I was later told is called Pangea, a deep umbral realm. My leg was broken, as well as a few ribs, I was concussed and had to spend a few days healing in a thicket of brush just so I could travel. Then I wandered, trying to find my way and my bearings. I do not know the umbra well at all. I saw...well, if anyone knows Pangea? *looks around* I saw dinosaurs, and dragons. I came upon a village of people that accepted me as a Wolf Sister, offered food, lodging, and clothing. They knew of a Garou that might be able to help me get back to the Realm, but they wished a favor of me first. They asked me to remove a beast that was blocking the way between their village and the next. I went out, found out what the beast was, and that it was too great for me to kill alone. And it, Urak-thur, would not be reasonable and move to another area. I made a hasty deal to gain my freedom to go back to the Village and help them plan a way to rid them of the beast....*her eyes darken and her face pales till it's nearly white. Lines of grief in her face* The plan failed, the good Warriors and Headman Kal'ar died in battle with the Beast and an ambush. The Traveler, the Garou they spoke of, showed up and carried me to the near Umbra and left me to find the rest of the way home. I dont think a full month passed for me, I counted what days I remembered, and it was barely less than 2 weeks.

(spider)
Spider does not reply to the challenge. His only answer is a small inclination of his head, nodding with a too knowing smile. With his other hand, he clicks the remaining safeties into place, and then holsters the weapon.

To the Warder, he lowers his eyes and shakes his head, respectfully signaling that will not be necessary -- he is in full control of his temper and his faculties.

(binary)
Binary.

Maybe she's had a long day. Maybe she's just finished the New York City marathon, and 3 all nighters, either way it doesn't show on the face of the unremnarkable asian woman. Tongue slides over her teeth for a brief second as the glass walker stands, palms settles [ ...seismic..] on the table before her. She's armed and you know it - but thats not the issue at hand is it. Her gaze rapt.

Absorption is.

(decker/brand)
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.

The Modi with his choking rage (see how even the other Elders sit a little ways farther away from him than from one another?) was popping his knuckles now, quietly, one by one. Watching, silent and passive as he'll ever get, the testimony of Cinnamon.

Waiting for the Revel.

Brand: "They died in battle against a foe too great for even you to kill. How is it that you did not?"

(cinn)
*she gazes at her arm, shame written on her face* The Traveler gave me a choice, if I stayed to try and defend them, against unbeatable odds, I'd either die there, or be stuck in the realm forever. Either way, I'd never return here. *she gazes at teh questioner, eyes direct, there were no lies in her face, just teh stark mourning truth* I knew that I had pack, a mate, and Gaia here that needed defending as well...It was a choice, one that was made in too short amount of time, and one that I regret every waking minute in some ways, in others, I dont. How do you decide between protecting your pack, homeland, and mate, or staying to defend others in a battle you know none of you will walk away from?

(james vaughn)
The corporate Wolf stand in his war form and finally.

Moves.

He steps forward. "If i'm not mistaken you were taken long before that, seems to me you're missing some time. And yes, the noble has a point. How is it that they died, and you did not? If it was too much for you, how did you survive?" His is cool, buisinesslike monolougue delivered in the high speech.

"Please. Explain, if you would?" Ragabash, questionaire. They just have to make things difficult.

(cinn)
*To the second questioner* Because the Traveler...did something, like stepping sideways, and we...appeared in the near Umbra. I dont know how to explain what he did. And I know I couldnt have been wandering much before comming to my senses, the wounds I remembered receiving in battle, were still fresh upon my pelt.

(nahi)
Nahimana speaks soft;y, but her voice is loud enough to be heard by all "Perhaps time moves differently in Pangea than it does here..."

(vaughn)
"Well. That seems good enough to me. A mysterious traveler dropped you off." Ragabash grin seeps into his visage as hip large crinos lips part. "True, it could."

(kemp)
Well none of it made sense to him, but what did he know? If this dude could bring her back when given a choice, why didn't he just do it in the first freakin place? Unless the idea was to make her choose between fight and flight? Made his head hurt to think about.

(brand)
"And what will you say when you face the Wyrm, I wonder?" Brand's face is granite; his dark eyes grave, judgmental, but without hatred or anger. "Would you fight a battle you know will claim your life - or would you run home again?"

The Silver Fang leans back and looks down the semicircle of his his fellow Tribal Elders for their reactions.

(binary)
And alot of other tribes may tolerate the breach of ritual and garou culture. Binary isn't alot of people. Her gaze flickers to the mouthy ragabash.

Narrowed.
[You. will. follow. procotcol.]
Silent.

And then she speaks, "Cinnamon has told the truth as far as she knows." No further elaboration.

(cinn)
*she looks at him for a long moment* I made the mistake once, sir, I wont make it again. *with the sound of an oath behind it. She had promised to herself, Gaia, and Kal'ar's spirit, she'd never run again if she had a choice*

(binary)
And a nod in verifacation after her oath.

Ayup.

(npcs)
The Grand Elder speaks, "By your own words, you were taken in possession of the wyrm, saved and taken to a sacred realm of the umbra," a brief glance toward Sasha as he speaks, before his attention returns to the errant Galliard, "and there, you attempted to aid a village, in this sacred place, and when that failed, you chose to run and save yourself, 'for your pack, for your mate and for Gaia'. Because it was against unbeatable odds.

"Unbeatable odds sounds familiar, doesn't it?" his mouth twitches and then the guess at a smile fades, "so my question for you, Cinnamon, is what do you think we should do with you?"

(yu/fb/jaan)
*Yu Gan looks up and listens most closly. Holding his hands tight. Wishing he could help*

Fastball looks around and climbs up Tuckers left arm to get a better view.

*Jaan nods to his elder and Alpha. Good questions all.*

(pinky)
::The wolf sits up noe completely distracted from the bad-bad-bad man. To watch the Grand Elder and the blue-haired other. Her jaw slightly apart as she stares -gravity of the moment.

(cinn)
*she swallows and looks at her feet, thinking, then looks up at the Grand Elder.* There is a rite I've heard tell of, which removes the Wolf from a Garou for a set amount of time, making the oods against me that much more deadly. However, if it is not acceptable....I dont know what else might be acceptable.
And I never said it was unbeatable odds, only that if I stayed, whether win or loose, I'd never be able to return to this Realm and my pack, mate, and Gaia.

(jim)
Jim looked up at the grand elder and took a step forward just behind cinnamon's shoulder as a sign of support, the ahroun heard what he needed to. she was his sister.

(nahi)
Nahimana stepped up to stand on Cinn's other side. This was her friend whom she loved as a sister, she would give her what supposrt she could

(tucker/vaughn)
Tucker hoists up his samller pack met allowing him to sit with dangling legs on his shoulder. "Piss on me again. and I rip the fucker off." In the low tongue it sounds harh, almost slavic if you compared Garou to human tongues.

James step back. As far he knows his auspice gives him this right as protocol by precedent. But-

Let the Elder have her little power trip.

(james)
high above the assembly hall, caught in the velvet night sky
Luna shines brilliant through her gravid swell
fishbook barbs stretching down to tug at the wolves hidden beneath their skins
distant whispers crawling through the darkest tunnels of their minds

.... yet still. the words. carry. on.
some things are lengthy even for a Bone Gnawer

"You dun' answ'r Brand-yuf's ques'n." deep umber eyes the color of Gaia's rich earth are hard. as. steel. - but James speaks slowly, to make sure he's understood beyond the battlescar slur "Do s'mth'n' once.... s'easy a do't 'gain. Take 'way th' wolf, take 'way th' blessin' Gaia gave yeh..... wou' y' try hard'r, 'gainst deadlier odd, 'r fine it easier a turn 'way."

(cinn)
*she glances toward James* I thought I answered his question, I vowed that I made the mistake once, I wouldnt make it again. I will not willingly run from a battle and leave innocents to die, if I have the strength of will left to do so. I'll need to be dragged unconcious first.

(spider)
The bad-bad-bad man, not completely unaware of the side-long glances cast in his direction by the too innocent wolf, looks at her. Pinky. Raising an eyebrow -- which has the adverse effect of pronounce his scar and tugging his lips into a sneer -- he contemplates her for a while. Loses interest. And then looks away to watch the proceedings with a meditative air.

(decker/brand)
Brand
Having already consigned all that he is -- more than his life, even -- to a bad fate in the name of the good fight, Brand has little enough patience for those who do not.

"You've said twice now you made a mistake. Thus you must have preferred the other option. To have stayed behind. To never see your pack and mate again. To have fought on."

Trap closing.
"To die."
A beat.

"And yet your suggestion is merely to be stripped of Wolf for a month?"

Decker
Low, sneering, "And what good is another dead Garou stripped from the sept?"

Brand
Level, "What good is another coward at your back?"

(pinky)
::And then Jim and Nahimana move to Cinnamon's side. Pinky is so moved, her eyes flickering waterbright. This was better than when Rachel & Ross got back together for the last episode -- pack loyalty. Love and Respect. She settles closer with her pack.::

(tucker)
Gonna cry? comes his voice over the totem phone now. Giving the pack's omega a sidelong glance. He steps now between her and the one who is so happy to pull the weaver device out in the prescene of creatures of Rage and the young girl, noting her tension.

[The bad man. The lost boy. Carry a big stick.]

(binary)
Binary shakes her head.

"Give her a chance to redeem herself. A quest to salvage reknown and prove her worth."

(will)
*Will whispers in Cliona's ear from his perch on her shoulder* "They gonna go AHHH and AHHH! on her?"

(cinn)
*she shrugs to Brand* If you have another punishment you deem more suited, I'm sure everyone would love to hear it. By all means, suggest something else. I dont know if it's possible, but maybe it would be better to find a way to send me back to Pangea? Would that help? Send me back there to right a wrong and spend the rest of my days in that realm instead? Maybe then I could hunt down this Urak-Thur and let him kill me in honest battle as should have happened in the first place. *she's no longer pale, no longer shivering, just overtaken by a calm feeling of surrender. She didnt know what to do about the situation. But whatever happened, she undoubtedly deserved it. In her mind at least.*
(jim/ham/serg/sarah)
Jim looks brand in the eye "I'd have her at m' back any time... Coward..." he spits on the dirt and wipes his mouth "SHe's earned my trust, Yer Lordship" The last part a soft growling undertone.

hamish watched silently

Sergei snarled and took a step toward the Urrah who dared speak like that to his betters

(nahi)
"She was dragged away from us. She chose to return to us despite feeling guilty about the deaths of the villagers. She feels horrible for the deaths of the villiagers. She cuts herself each dawn to mourn their deaths!!!" Nahimana shows those assembled the cuts on Cinn's arm "If she could have stayed to help the villiagers and returned to us later, I'm sure she would have she took the ONE chance she had to return to US. I do not fault her for that! Nor should any of you!" Nahimana lifts her chin proudly

(victoria)
As Pinky draws closer to her pack, at least one packmate seems utterly oblivious. Ever heard the phrase, "forest for the trees"? That's Victoria, now. So utterly intent on everything that's happening around her, it almost seems like she's not paying attention to anything. Staring into space.

Deep mode.

When Luca speaks, she twitches, ever so slightly - priority interrupt, indeed. She shifts, slightly, for comfort. And then settles right back into that same fugue.

(tucker)
Perhaps fastball can feel tucker audibly bristle. His alpha tensing as Cinnamon speaks [Oversteps her bounds] now.

"She really shouldn't talk to him that way." A snarl eminates. "I think we might get to dee an ass kicking tonight."

(cinn)
*what she'd said to Brand was not said in any fashion other than tired, respectful, and just plain...exhausted.*

(yu/fb/jaan)
*Fastball shakes his head and whispers to tucker* Don't take on what others will handel themselves. Show wisdom in temporance and let the council rule. Our pace is to perserve wisdom, not meek out vengence to our own.

Let them defend their own insults or WE dishonor them by taking that from them.

(cliona/ann)
Hand lifts to scratch Will along the back of his neck, just like he likes it.

Then. “Aye, she did at that.” to Nahi and Jim. “However, how can she be sure th’she dinna possess th’means to save th’rest o’th’villagers had she stayed. She herself says it wasna unbeatable odds.

Yet she ran.

Perhaps her destiny was teh remain. When her destiny comes callin again, who’s teh say she willna make th’same mistake and add cuts along her arm teh mourn yeh death, his death, my death, while th’Wrym laughs...”

(binary)
What was it with people feeling the need to insult each other at an innately sacred meeting place on innately sacred grounds? Binary doesn't think this -- because Binary doesn't care, lips pull back from teeth and she glares at Jim. Jim who had broken with [protocol more than once in her presense. Did you REALLY want to piss of the elder who seemed inclined to help your packmate?

Maybe.
[...some people aren't political.]

And then some people are about to be smacked with the goddamn LITANY stick.

(kemp)
Clamping his mouth shut, which wasn't an easy task for the kid. He'd had situations where death for himself was a very real possibility and he'd faced it head on. He had his own demons to deal with.

(kris)
*Just sitting up in the rafters looking on and tapping out another message to Will "I'd wager that they couldn't have one moot or gathering without there being an argument amongst them"*

(tucker)
The Alpha nods. "Just sayin'. When the judge is gonna give you life. Don't scream for the death penalty." Turning head up to regard the Gnawer on his shoulder. "But yeah, I'll let them deal with it. Not my place."

(cinn)
*she rubs her eyes* Let me make this clearer. There was NO WAY the villagers or I could kill Urak-Thur. The only thing I might have accomplished, and that haunts my few moments of sleep every night, is I might have saved a few lives and let them run away. Maybe I'd die before I could escape the Dragon, but maybe I could run fast enough, that the winged monster couldnt kill me. Alright? *just a tired voice, wishing this was over*

(fb)
*Fast ball nods to both things his Alpha says and watches.*

(nahi)
"Our destinies lay in the choices we make. Were she destined to stay in Pangea, she would not have been offered a way back. Her first loyalty is to Gaia, her pack and her mate. THAT is the road she took. She honored her PRIMARY vows." Nahimana says in a clear voice.

(james)
"'R you Cinn'mon."

there's no reprimand for showing support
but the Grand Elder directed Cinnamon to tell her story
Nahimana's - Jim, too - met with a blistering glare that reaffirms just that

soon as it appears, it's gone

"Wha' I won'er.... is why y'r giv'n up 'gain 'n sugges'in' goin' back a Pangea wh'n y'r pro'lem's here'n now." he can see her surrendering, giving in to the exhaustion, and he'll damn well push harder "Y' gonn' fight nex' time? Fight now."

(cinn)
*she gives Nahi a look, part thanks, but also part "stay out of this, I dont want to drag you down too" on her face*

(spider)
Spider is deeply involved in the sacred, meditative practice of twiddling one's thumbs. It is an ancient mantra.

Twiddle. Twiddle. Twiddle.

Yawn.

Did they decide yet? Look up. No.

Twiddle. Twiddle. Twiddle. Yawn. Twiddle. Twiddle.

(pinky)
No.

::Sniff-Sniff::

I'm fine.

::Pinky rubs at her eyes watching the events unfold, there were details to it she didn't really understand. What the HELL was going on. Couldn't they just give a good lecture and a cookie? Geez.::

(jim/serg)
Jim just glares not saying anything else but he was in a semi nihilistic mood at the moment, unusual for this generally amiable ahroun. he crossed his arms on his chest and waited his eyes on the floor.

Sergei stopped for a moment waiting for his alpha's actions before he overstepped his bounds and kicked the Urrah's head in. He bristled and waited.

(virago/flesh of fire)
From amongst the Elders Flesh of Fire steps forward, no pack behind her with the absence of Kveta, the scars on her face mocking the scars Cinnamon would seek to use as penance for her actions. Slashes on the arm? The act of the self-absorbed. "Her first loyalty is to Gaia." Serbian tongue shreds the voices, the abrasive unwhole vocal chords making any music, any lilt, discordant in those sounds. "Her first loyalty to who she is as garou, and what that means." Pause.

"Tell me, do you know what they do to deserters of an army? Then tell us why you should be spared that fate." The stance of the Shadow Lord's interim Elder could not be more clear than that.
((Amendment: (still waking.. *hangs head*) Ana's in crinos and her garou speak is harsher than the norm cos of vocal chords. ;) ))

(sasha)
Sasha weighs the bone in the palm of her hand, looking down at it. Quietly, her eyes shift back and forth to the speakers, watching the debates play out. A sbutle motion starts, juggling the bone from one hand to the other. Back and forth, back and forth.

(decker)
And as it all goes to hell--

"HOLD YOUR TONGUES."

A growl, quiet, but so low and deep in his chest that it's felt to the edges of the hangar. That seems to be Decker's job. Tell everyone to shut the fuck up once in a while.

"Unless you sit on the Council, are the accused, or hold the [fucking] Bone, keep your mouth shut."

(...er, stick that before the GE's post - STUCK)

(npcs)
The Warder is quiet, staring at Cinnamon with a condescending gaze.

"Alright."

Quiet, low voice from the Philodox. "We can talk until the moon wanes new, and waxes full again, and still be talking at the next moot.

"The council will vote. Kill or live. We'll worry about punishment when we know whether or not she will be alive to receive it." Quiet stare. Contention on this is not an option. He will not have the council or anyone else arguing amongst themselves.

(cinn)
*looking to FLesh of Fire* I dont know what they do to deserters of the army. I dont know much of anything about the army. So I dont know what fate I should be spared of. *then she drops to silence at the words of the Philidox, nodding acceptance.*

(decker/brand)
Decker
"Live."

Brand
"Die."

(luca)
Luca turns now to the nearly crying Pinky. His hand comes to rest on her shoulder. "Close your eyes and cover your ears if you don't wanna see this."

(yu)
*His voice soft in the quiet after Deckers pronouncement. He is on the counsil* Deserters are shot, as are traitors.

*He looks to the others on the counsil for their votes*

(flesh of fire)
Flesh of Fire's answer would be expected, after that little inclusion. Her lips curl back faintly, revealing the angry teeth to growl. "Die."

(kris)
*Leaning back, not really caring if his voice is heard over the bickering as it will most likely only piss of the Garou more* Bullshit, the don't shoot deserters the put'em in the Brig.

(nahi)
Nahimana looks at Yu in shock, then her face floods with rage. She turns her gaze from him as if she wished she never saw him, staring straight ahead

(decker)
Decker gets up and starts toward Kristopher. The bird better start flying, or he'll be a mouthful of feathers.

(pinky)
::Close your eyes. And cover your ears. As if it were a very bad-bad-bad movie, a scary section before the heroes win in the end. If you close your eyes it isn't happening. and covering her ears she buries her face against Luca's bicep.::

(npcs)
Grand Elder: "Live."

The Warder's voice is gravel the first time he has spoken this moot, his massive shoulders shifting beneath his shirt. "Die." And then his head whips toward Kristopher, and stares. "Get out."

(cinn)
*she cant understand why she's getting a death sentence, they werent even garou, these garou didnt even know Kal'ar existed. Had any one of them ever battled a dragon? Had any one of them ever been in Pangea? Well....*

(jim)
*she cant understand why she's getting a death sentence, they werent even garou, these garou didnt even know Kal'ar existed. Had any one of them ever battled a dragon? Had any one of them ever been in Pangea? Well....*

(binary)
Equation.

The semi-permeable derrivation, of authentic mutation. Could they count on her - what was the worth of a single garou. How did that balence against the COST of a traitor, a weakness a liability. It was too early to determine, to kill her now would be wasteful.

Ineffective.

"Live."
(yu)
*Yu Gan nods and looks to them* I know I said I wouldn't interfear, but if the counsil wishes to know my thoughts I would say live as well.

(will)
Will: *As covertly as he can, He burrows into Cliona's hair. Least the scary warder order him out too*

(ana)
"Your thoughts are as necessary in this as any other. As Elder you vote." Flatly said, little expression carving her face. "As pack alpha you vouch for her."

(cinn)
*with each death sentence, she doesnt even hear the "live" votes. She just knows that because of her fear and devotion, some decided she was worthless and deserved death. Meanwhile those that killed a fellow garou, sat unspoken to. She didnt take her claws and kill the village warriors to leave them behind to slow Urak. She didnt kill anyone.*

(yu)
She's nolonger under my totem. But I knew her before. I would say live and let the counsil deside past that. I wouldnt' see her dead unless there was no redemption.

(harold)
~Harold steps foward.~ I personally will not let myself live for taking a Garous life and Cinnamon die for coming back to the Garou to help their fight. If she dies for this then you will have to take my life as well. She has been cleared of Wyrm taint that should be enough. So kill her and kill me as well."
"And I speak for myself not the others who were involved in the death of Anarchy 99."

(james)
the Ahroun is quiet until the very end
they need every, single soul for this war
yet he bears the scars from those that have turned from the fight
seconds tick by as thoughts process

"Live."

the word is little more than a murmur, but there's something in the Gnawer's gaze....if she shows such weakness again, there will be no such leniency

(cliona)
She is silenced by Decker, not officially part of the council, though she does stand as second. A moment’s leveled gaze on Cinn. “I gave one th’chance teh redeem himself once. I give yeh th’same. Live.” But there is no doubt – just as with Tucker, Cinn will not receive another chance from the Fianna. It’s do or die.

(binary)
Blink.

Her gaze fixes on Harold eyes narrowing, watching as he adds his life to the pie. Silent. Eyes sliding over the assembled before the loud snap of elastic is eard from her fingers. Almond shaped gaze falls back to the blue haired woman, who stood at judgement so very confused and afraid.

A snort passes through her nostrils. Warriors, good warriors were not born, they were trained - bit NO one said the process was fun.

(pinky)
::Tugging on his sleeve she peers up at Luca.::

"Is it over yet?"

(cinn)
*she'd lost count in the despair engulfing her. IT didnt matter if they let her live, she didnt even know why it was up to a vote. She'd thought that being clean of taint, and telling the truth would be enough. She'd thought the vote was only if she WERE tainted...How could her own kind twist things? Who could she really trust anymore? At least her pack members, and....Glances at Harold, new respect for someone she didnt know makes a weak glimmer. But she still wonders if it would have mattered at all if she WAS tainted, it probably woulda gone the same way in the end. But she fists her hands in her pockets and grits her teeth. She'd prove them ALL wrong. She'd NEVEr run from another fight, even if it killed her...*

(sasha)
"I plead..." a pause, staring at Cinnamon with a steady gaze. Her head lifts up, "to let her live. Show mercy for one who knows she has done wrong and admits her faults and seeks redemption. She'll have to earn her second chance."

(luca)
He responds to the tugs by moving his other arm in to briefly hug tight his packmate. Then releases her to inspect the damage. Tears are fairly minimal the girl will be okay.

"It's over kiddo. She's gonna live, I think."

(cinn)
Nahimana wraps her arms around her friend protectively, feeling Cinn's distress only strengthened her will that Cinn would not die this night.

(jim)
Jim stood firm but didn't say anything else. it was all he could do to reign in the rage at the injustice of it all. he wanted to break something, hurt them. beat them until he made them see. his homid teeth clentched with rage and the will to fight it back. The Full moon didn't help any.

(victoria)
Lips quirk wryly at her Alpha's words - even in her most intense moments of concentration, his words tend to get through. Well, most of the time.

Whispered - "Super."

Sarcasm, aimed at a verdict she disagrees with? Or guileless agreement that justice has indeed been done? Hard to tell, with this one.

(cinn)
*she's shuddering, ever so slightly. Every muscle tense in her body when Nahi wraps her arms around her. She was fighting herself, the moon's pull, and the demon inside her that was taunting her to just do something to make them put her out of her misery anyway. But she wanted so badly to prove them wrong. And with the support of Nahi, that side wins the inner battle. So she stands, listening again, telling herself she might actually live through this.*

(pinky)
"Woohoo!!"

::Pinky's shout is an explosion, it is the sky's rumble before molten rock slides down volcano's edge. And even now, in light of the fool moon the girl is beaming, like she's just walked out of the Lion King - after y'know Simba takes back the Mountain from evil ole' Scar - and your all warm and fuzzy. Check it out, its cheerleader Barbie.

Life in plastic - Its fantastic!::

(luca)
He turns slowly, letting that half lidded gaze fall to the gamer girl. "I know, I know. S'just hard to accept a death sentance without proof you know?" He shrugs, though one may notice a cringe.

[If only I coulda taken a look, been sure of it...]

(kris)
*Looking down to the Warder* And why should I, I fought just as hard as any of the Garou here so that this Caren may be established, my word should mean no less than any other gathered member here and I felt that if you are going to ask her a quesiton that she dosn't know the answer to than she has every right to hear what they do from someone who wasn't going to vote on wether she lived or died. *Leaning back against the Rafter, waiting for his response* Or is it that because I wasn't born with wolves blood that my word means less?

(kemp)
Even as even tempered as he tended to be, things were starting to grate on his nerves. Tensing, a muscle in his jaw starting to tick.

(tucker)
Tucker slides the Beta down off his arm moving toward the errant bird. His breeding making a stand for him as he turns to the warder, crinos body language saying all.

[You are important here. Stay, I can do this.]

"Exactly what it fucking means." Rumbled in the high speech. "Get out or I will make you wish you'd never changed." Glaring at the Corax as he moves forward. [You cocky little shit.] Claws flex up and down again.

(cinn)
*she thought back, was the final vote to let her live? She thinks so....her shoulders drop and she collapses to a seat on the ground, if Nahi doesnt let go, she'll drag her to the seat with her. Burrying her face against her fists silently, resting them on her knees. What else does one do when you realize you arent going to be torn limb from limb by your Family?*

(fb)
*Fastball is put down. Sees tucker do that and hides his head in the crack of Joes ass. This could be messy*

(nahi)
Nahimana is drwan down to the groud with Cinn, hugging her tight. Estatic that her friend will live, furious that Yu's words may have put the thought of execuition in the minds of some.

(decker)
The greataxe slides down Decker's arm. Ink to reality. Utterly silent, he hurls it at Kristopher up in the rafters.

(I didn't know those things could be thrown, did you?)

(jim)
Jim with the final vote tallied and retallied in his head lets out a breath and he nodded to himself. nothing more was said.

(sarah)
Sarah the unknown strider waited patiently looking to the blind woman with the bone then the elders waiting to see if the matter had been settled or not.

(kris)
*Standing up, high in the rafters above them all, speaking loud so that all may hear* OK I see how the fuck it is, my kind stayed by your side during the War of Rage, I stood by your side in the creation of this very Caren, but I am only aloud to stay here as long as I "Be a good little CORAX and keep my fucking mouth shut, you Garou are all the same *Looking down to Will* You can stay and chill with these barbarians but I'm out

*Jumping off of the rafters and quickly shifting into Corvid form and flying out of the opening in the roof but staying at the hole just out of sight*

(cinn)
*The thought of execution was already in many minds. Otherwise, the question wouldnt have been brought up whether Cinn knew what they did to deserters or traitors. However, the parts dealing with her she thinks are over, and focuses on the fact that she's alive. But what after that? She looks up, stands with shaky knees. Looks around, asks tiredly, respectfully, always respectfully*

I need to know, now that the vote has been stated for me to continue living, will I be sentenced for some punishment still? If so, why? And if so, when will the discussion be?

((as in, will it be a forum thingy?))

(spider)
Good. Something to do.

Looking up from his thumbs, Spider sets his eyes on Kristopher, the Warder, then Kristopher. Reaching into his coat, he produces that signature gun that seems to set so many Garou ill at ease. (Weaver device). Then, reaching into one of the compartments on the holsters other side, pulls out a silencer that he methodically screws into the barrel.

Decker's axe Flies, Spider looks up, and watches with quiet satisfaction as the Get tries to kill the intruder.

(cinn)
*glances toward the ruckus and wonders what other innocent was being condemned yet again. Sighs. What the hell was the USE??*

(flesh of fire)
"You escape death, ont punishment. Surely you do not think your self-inflicted cuts are enough?" The scar across Flesh of Fire's right cheek ripples as she talks, the muscles pulling at the ridged and smooth flesh.

(yu)
*The OTHER corax is hidden under Cliona's hair. Very studiously NOT Talking shit or drawing attention to himself. Ravens are big birds. Others can see him but the effort is made and all*

(binary)
An ax flies past her haead as she blinked at the godi and then to the warder. Before flickering back to the Shadow Lord Elder.

Quiet.
[...perhaps waiting for things to settle down.]

(kemp)
Attention going from the attempt to see if the chicken could fly without his head, to Virago when she spoke. The hint of an approving gleam in his eyes.

(nahi)
Nahimana stands and wraps and arm around Cinn's shoulder.

"If she is to be punished, that is for the Grand Elder to decide."

(decker)
CRACK! The axe hits the rafter and splits it in two. Debris (and a few black feathers) rains down from the already much-abused, rotting, corrugated-steel roof that bleeds moonlight and rain.

Another second later, the greataxe comes whistling end-over-end back down, spinning black death. It slaps neatly in the massive handpaw of the Modi that had thrown it.

"Last [fuckin'] warning, [assholes]." Brackets in plain, ugly English. "Next one to talk without the Bone or a seat on the Council of Elders, I claim your head."

Motion smooth like a well-oiled machine, but fiercely organic, asymmetric, stalking. He returns to his seat and sits.

Back to the matter.

"I say let Cinnamon's Elder decide her punishment. Binary?"

(cliona/ann)
She doesn’t stop Will from burrowing under her hair, as she understands why. Even if he’s pulling something awful. And the angle will eventually make her shoulders ache, but she just reaches up and runs a soothing hand over black feathers. Poor featherbrain.

(cinn)
*she rubs her face* Punishment, I dont try to escape, just like homid law, I'd like to know what I'm being charged with. Beyond the story I tell, of the village...*she sighs and shakes her head* Never mind. I dug my own grave really by telling the truth and comming home untainted I guess. I just wish to know if the sentencing will be after the moot at some time.

(yu/fb/jaan)
*Yu Gan nods to Deckers words* Tribal elder should choose.
*He looks to Binary as well.*

*Fastball peeks around at the stuff happening with the corax. he already didn't like that guy.*

Jaan watches most closly, as this pertains to future. All should be rememberd.*

(tucker)
All three of them have nearly the same reaction. Looking to those around them, James even mockingly.

Nope.

Not a fucking human for miles.

(sasha)
A... small smirk dances across the line of lush lips. Sasha lifting up her arms to fold them across her chest. The bone still firmly clasped in her hand, now tapped lightly against her left upper biceps. "We finished with th'dramatics here?"

(flesh of fire)
Cinnamon's words receive a scathing reply from the Shadow Lord Elder, before she sharply turns her head to watch Binary, and her judgment. "You feel guilt, glasswalker. Your admission stated as such. You should welcome exonerating punishment from your Elder, seems you seem to have already admitted that you deserve it."

(spider)
Gun still held in his lap (Ready), he looks toward the Glass Walker Elder expectantly.

(nahi)
Nahimana glares openly at FoF, Rage boiling inside her, the moon making it worse

(cinn)
*she shrugs* Yes, I did. And so I await another judgement. *she's given up arguing. It was pointless. And meaningless. And just made things take longer*

(jim/serg/ham)
Jim lifted his head now to glare at the shadow lord elder Tire Chewer was right, Lords are hateful spiteful garou that you wouldn't wanna wipe yer ass with fer fear of some kind of taint. he says nothing but glares for a moment before looking away with a snort of disgust. he crossed his arms and listened.

Hamish sat bearing witness as galliards were charged to do during times like this he remained silent and fought with himself to remain impartial.

Sergei sneered in approval at the shadowlords words but he couldn't yet bring himself to admit the lord had a point.
(yu)
*Yu Gan frowns and there is an eye blink. The Quickest of the Quick moves the couple of Dozen yards to Nah's side in an instant. ALmost seeming to teleport. A hand extended* Not here... not now. If one of you challenges it will be after this. Behave please.
*He looks between the ladies, Mostly at the Shadow lord* Please step back.

(kris)
*Sitting on the roof, now in homid form and chuckeling silantly* Let the whole lot of them, maby Gaia will make the next bach smarter.

(npcs)
"Flesh of Fire." the Warder's voice sounds like stones splitting.

"Laughing Coyote may not speak unless she has the bone. You, as acting elder for your tribe, should not abuse your privelege to speak without permission." And then Jim drops her, and the Warder stalks slowly forward toward the Ahroun.

(binary)
Binary.

The asian's glance flickers to the woman who speaks and speaks and speaks though not precisely in her defense as much as in complaint. [Do you suppose thos bodes well for you?] Her form inclines forward briefly with the trust of shoulders and suggestion of motion restrain.

"--and you ask to be stripped of your wolf. But this does not fit the problem, the problem is one of training, of methodology. So you will prove to this sept to yourself you have changed, a quest to regain your honor will be issued."

(cinn)
*She leaps to her feet in defense of her closest friend beyond Ash, her brother and stands there with her fists clenched, but glaring at FoF's shoulder, instead of her eyes* A look is not a challange, MA'AM. (make that garou title for elder) We are allowed our own emotions, she didnt challange you or anyone else. Emotions are NOT a crime.

(james)
the Gnawer's chin lifts up
(Eagle trademark)
the Nation decided that she lives for her mistake
it fits the Tribe should be responsible for correcting it

"Th' truth may be wha' gave ya th' chance a prove y'r w'rth."

translation: stop whining
dark eyes turn to Binary

(nahi)
Nahimana stands next to Cinn having not moved and inch. She hadn't said anything nor had she moved.

(yu)
*Yu Gan holds up his other hand to Jim and Cinnamon* SILENCE.
*His tone soft but commanding* Jim step back. Nah, step back. Now.* His words soft but foreceful. He turns and nods to the Warder and to the Shadow lord* There are things on the table.

(jim)
Jim looked the warder in the eye pride and rage showing there though part of his attention remained on the lord never let a lord stand at yer back never know which one has a knife.

(cinn)
*she blinks as FoF falls down and blinks again, confused, looks at Jim, looks at Nahi, then Yu, then just looks damned confused, just short of saying "HUH??" Finally settles on Binary and nods Aquiescence to her sentance* Umm, alright, as you say, Elder. *just sits and decides not to move another inch.*

(binary)(
"..a quest you are failing as we speak. Shall we call another vote RIGHT now, Cinnamon?"

Heat.
[Beast.]
Efficency.
[...cold]

(nahi)
"I had not stepped forward to begin with, but as you wish," Nahimana takes a step back as he Alpha had commanded

(tucker/vaughn/luca)
Immediately Tucker is striding forward. Toward Jim, fire in his eyes. "You wanna pick on sombody your own size?" In the low speech, odd from his mouth, with his breeding, with that thick silver pelt.

Politics, it's always violence and politics. So Vaughn watches, looking for and finding weaknesses in the structure.

That is his job right?

Avengers assemble.

Everybody up. Help the helpless time and such. Gotta kick grandpa's ass. Luca looks to the packmates, seeing the trepidation in thier eyes.

"I know. But it's duty." Reassurance.

(yu)
*Yu turns to tucker and holds out his hand. To get to his pack they'd have to go though him* Hold. There is a matter on the table. All of you back off.
*Dark eyes holding them. Soft voice* The lord moved first. The others in defence. The Warder alone has right here. Hold.

(jim)
Jim looked to Tucker and said "Anytime chucklehead." He was raging now he had dealt with so much the past few days he was on a hair trigger "Where and when."

(yu)
*Yu Grabs Jim by the front of the shirt and PROPELLS him back. A snarl of warning* SILENCE

(binary)
Binary closes her eyes.

Perhaps it WOULd have been better to KILL her.

[...more efficent.]

(spider)
Sigh. "Garou are such egotistical primadonnas."

This, to himself, quietly.

(jim)
jim flies back and glares at his alpha but stays quiet his head turning to tucker with a scowl and nothing more.

(tucker)
He nods to Yu Gan. Eyes holding barley contained steel of Rage. "Your pack, your call. But the Souix started it." He knows Jim, and has fought beside him. The insult comes as a surprise thus.

He nearly frenzies at the words. "When you decide mouth off with out a brain around." Gesturing to Yu Gan, now holding with his will against the moon's pulsebeat.

(cinnamon)
*sits silent, still as stone now. Gazing at the toes of her sneakers and letting things flow around her. I'm a piece of stone, I'm a piece of stone, I'm a piece of stone. Please Gaia, no more. The old mantra from her childhood surfaces, the one she used to try and ignore her father when she hid from him in the woodshed. She didnt want anymore trouble and so she sits, still as stone.*

(jim)
Jim flips tucker off then remains where he landed and broods.

(yu)
*Yu nods to Tucker, Gently touching Nah's shoulder* Stand with Jim and the Quick. Cinn must face her elder. Show honor and don't diminish Cinnimons by robbing her of it. Come.. Stand with your pack.
*He nods to the warder that he has them under control now.
Gently guding Nah to Jim and standing with them*

(kemp)
Talk about brawls. Holy fuck, no one told him a Moot was really a brawl where everyone worked to show just how many times they were dropped on their heads as infants. Sitting up to pay more attention. And don't think Moot equals brawl, wasn't in his head.

(npcs)
the Grand Elder's head turns toward Tucker, as he is an Alpha, and Yu Gan now deals with his own.

"You and your pack lose the right to speak, this moot." Says the Grand Elder, quietly. And to Flesh and Fire, "Stand up and join your pack. Should you be chosen as your Elder, you will speak again."

(tesrin)
*meanwhile, Tesrin just sat by himself and watched the whole goings on with the detatchment of a stranger. Flipping a quarter in the air and catching it quietly. He didnt stress over things. Stress, it's a killer, in one way or another*

(decker)
And that's all it takes.

While the Grand Elder is quietly meting out punishment, Decker moves. It's up for grabs whether most of the gathered are even fast enough to see it. One second he's here; the next he's over by FoF, Nahi, Jim, the crowd.

The axe swings for Jim.

(yu)
*Yu Gans katana is out, blindingly fast and Parrys Deckers blade a milimeter from Jim* MY PACK. My Punisment SIlence.* The much smaller ragabash looks up at Decker*

(sasha)
There are gifts that Unicorn teaches her children. Those worthy of a fostern to learn them, should impart the use of such a gift when the Rage flows....

Sasha, still with the Bone, lifting her eyes upon Jim and Tucker and Decker. She activates the Gift Calm upon all three Ahrouns.

(Dropping Three Gnosis to activate the Gift Calm on all three Garoun. Decker, Jim and Tucker)

(decker)
Four words.
"His head or yours."

(binary)
Inhale.
Exhale.

The glasswalker Tribal Elder.
Stays EXACTLY where she is.
She doesn't get up to fight.
She does NOT speak during the fight.

She sits there - waiting.

(jim)
Jim rolls to the side and kicks out at decker's knee as decker swings but then feels the effects of the calm shortly after his movement was made.

(kemp)
Fenrir, first and foremost, Kemp was Fenrir and there were times it showed. Like now, when Decker moved and the axe whistled through the air. Sitting up on his knees by now. And if he wasn't sure the axe might turn for his head, he'd be cheering just because someone was actually putting weight behind his threats. Thank Gaia, he'd thought his ass was going to be numb from all the sitting here listening to bullshit till the cows came home.

(nahi)
Nahimana gapes at Decker in shock

(yu)
*Yu Gan looks up at Decker. Slowly drawing his Katana free of the Axe* You are not the Grand elder here Silence. I applaude you trying to keep the peace. But the Lord moved as if to attack a packmember. Jim acted to defend. Should you need a head for that you will have to take mine. BUt I won't give it willingly.
*Yu reaches up and runs his right hand down Deckers blade. Blood splashing the ground* You have your blood.... Let the counsil finish this matter least we loose warriors to gaia's cause.

*He looks to Jim and Nah* Go. I'll see you later but leave now. If there is to be death it will be mine. But go now or I'll throat you both myself.
*His eyes flashing, and he turns back to decker, Chin up. Offering his head if the other is to take one*

(cinn)
*Still sitting like a rock, staring fixedly at her toes. Her mind blanked. I'm a piece of stone...I'm a piece of stone...I'm a piece of stone... Her heart rate drops as she closes out everything around her. It was a defence, to keep the rage from rising, to keep herself from doing something stupid. A defence, which may well have been why certain banes left her for dead. I'm a piece of stone...I'm a piece of stone...*

(cliona/ann)
AnneMarie has remained standing, stoic, near her packmates for some time now. As Decker makes good on his promise to make the next to speak out of turn pay for it, there’s movement. Just a slight nod – that’s all. She is Modi as well. She understands. Nahi’s gaping gets a quirk of lips. amused. She thought the Modi was kidding? Not a mistake to ever make, for sure. But of course, she remains silent.

Cliona remains unmoving, though she can feel Will trembling under her hair. She watches in silence as it all plays out.

(decker)
The axe lifts slowly, inch by inch, from Yu Gan's blade. He turns to face Fast Track.

"I am Fenrir before all else, Fast Track. I keep my word. Should you choose to die for your packmate, I will honor you for it."

(kemp)
Action at last. All at one time and man, it was more bullshit. Inwardly groaning. Were they expected to sit through this every freakin full moon? Hell, he'd still be sitting here this time next month at the rate things were going. Who needed the wyrm to fight? Just stuff a bunch of garou in a room and tell them to pick a number 1-10 and they'd be there till hell froze over.

(james)
the Ahroun.... still hasn't moved
not with the possiblity of KFC
not with the showdown between the scarred Lord and fiercely loyal Nahimana
not even with the launch of the steely Modi towards the arguing trio

one of whom is his Tribemate
there should be an element of concern, there
or maybe a response to his packmate's sudden and violent action

however..... Decker did deliver full and clear warning
if they're too hot to listen and use their heads infront of the freakin' Grand Elder and Council
then they deserve whatever punishment comes
(they're all snarling like a pack of ill-mannered puppies)

deep breath and sloooow swallow forces the Full Moon's inner beast back down
tolerate this until it's end, then get drunk as piss at the Revel

(tucker/vaughn/luca)
He's watching the Modi fight the Bone gnawer who seems more than suicidal tonight. When the Elder's proclamation is given.

I'm sorry you two. I was just trying to def- ahhhhh....

Scream of shock over the toem phone as the wind is sucked from him, taking fully one third of his rage with it. He nearly falls to his knees, before he recognizes the sensation. [Sasha....]

And only wonders why now, as he looks on from ten yeards away, he was chosen for this punishment as well.

(jim)
Jim stood and looked to decker and then Yu then decker "Decker, you want my head. take it in battle or be a fucking coward." with that he turns and leaves. he wonders why he ever bled to raise this caern in the first place and yu gan can hear it over the totemlink.

(kris)
*Still sitting on the roof Kris starts to laugh his ass off, almost falling off the roof but catching himself as he watches the events go by* Man this is fuckin funny watchin them go at it sometimes.

(sasha)
Sasha stares at the ahrouns, "I have th'bone. I speak. One more outburst of anger and I will cripple th'rage of th'next garou t'at throws a tantrum. We are Garou. Quit pissin' with vinegar and let US please continue with th' Moot!"

(jim)
Jim only heard half of sasha's pronouncement before he was out side and then gone.

(binary)Everyone's snarling, fighting or watching so far the grand Elder has not stepped up to the plate - or else this was how a moot was supposed to go. Binary's gaze flicks from the Grand Elder to the Warder before snorting with What must be disgust.

She stands.
"Cinnamon, look at us."

And then [..a beast is she..] her hands, palms down splay on the edge of the table, elbows bent slightly while asian leans forward-- as if she just might.... And then looks to Rite Mistress with the bone.

What now?

(npcs)
The next time Jim attempts to enter the caern, he will find himself stoppe

Posted by james at 12:00 AM

.05.04.04. - cracking the bone [moot pt.3]
[the caern - file - start, eagles claiming roxy, black unicorn's shame, barny's rank challenge]

(Quick clarification for the confused folks:

1. We're at the assembly area, which is one of the big empty hangars. Read the caern descrip for details.

2. Since both the Opening Howl and the Inner Sky have happened already, no one should be just arriving unless there's a good reason and/or they're ready for an asswhupping by the Warder.

Don't worry if you've misposted before.)

(yu)
*He stands in the center waiting for the craking of the bone to begin. Dressed in worn jeans, a buckskin shirt and his katatna at his hips. Waiting in silence he watches.*

(jim/hamish/sergei)
Jim stands with his pack looking a bit distant and withdrawn, different from his usual self.

Hamish Waits in the place set for the master of the howl, his opening howl carried out and the others having responded. He waits, shifting back to homid, dressed in a Kilt leather jacket boots and sex pistols t-shirt

Sergei Stands with his pack remaining in crinos, his silver haired arms covering his chest, his fake eye replaced by his standard eyepatch, he was as he usually was for garou affairs.

(nahimana)
Nahimana stands with her pack, a soft smile on her full lips

(cinnamon/tesrin)
*Cinnamon stands near Nahi and the rest of the Quick, the once missing Glasswalker of the blue hair. Pale, shadows under her eyes, skinnier than she used to be. Quiet, she waits.*

*Tesrin is near the Gnawers, seated and waiting* http://www.geocities.com/dragon_loves_wolf/Trecks_the_Tracks.html

(npcs)
The Guardian pack, of course, is not present, guarding the bawn as they are, a few of them visible, briefly as they walk about their patrols, or about their business, a brief flash of the theurge woman in the distance, an impression of a man walking across the tarmac. For the most part, however, it is important that they are not readily visible, so the small pack is just that. not readily visible. The warder however, is present and looming, corded arms crossed over his chest.

The Grand Elder stands among the council, his pack at his pack, two Garou of youth and quiet sternness. They are all homid.

(nahimana)
Nahimana drapes an arm around Cinn's shoulder and gives her a reassuring smile

(cliona/annemarie)
The Irish lass remains near her pack, having shifted back down to homid after the opening howl, hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans, pack, as always, over her shoulders under two-toned hair.

Quiet, for now.

AnneMarie, as is no shock to any who have met her, is silent. Stoic. Hands clasped lightly behind her back, standing just behind and to the right of Gustav.

(yu gan/fastball/jaan)
*Yu stands before the Quick. Stoic as normal*

*Fastball stands with the Whirlwind. In his crinos form. Only 3'6".*

Jaan stands with the Raptors. Gleaming in his crinos form, Arms across chest softly.*

(decker/brand/sliver/jackson)
Stage Three of Five.
The Cracking of the Bone. The most arduous part of the Moot.

Decker's starting to remember why these things give him a headache. Sitting on a crate, feet wide, cheek propped on one fist propped on one knee, he looks the way one imagines he looked six years ago, in eight grade, right before he got up and dropped out.

Brand stands quiet with the Elders, his pack at his back. Not alongside him, but close enough to show their affiliation.

sliver - with the shadow lords, a shadow.

Jackson - kinda sorta between the Knights and the Brats, hangin' out, watching.

Everyone's waiting for the Truthcatcher to Crack the Bone.

(kemp)
Sitting on the ground near his pack. Trying not to fidgit when all he really wanted to do was make sure his bike was still untouched, even if it was inside the factory while he was here. Knees drawn up, arms resting across them. Murky green eyes peering out from between strands of shaggy brown hair.

(james)
now that the opening howls have echoed into silence
James allows the shaggy war-form to melt away
light brown dreads tumbling over his shoulders in homage to gravity
dark umber eyes casually wandering amongst the gathered Garou
eventually slowing to stop front and center

silent. waiting. attentive.

(cinn/tesrin)
*gives Nahi a small smile, a hand absently going to her left arm to pick at the newest healing slash on her inner forearm*

(tucker/j vaughn/luca)
The Silver Fang is of course standing toward the center of the group staring into the cousin to his totem.

The Maelstrom. Nothingness. Everything. Forever and never in it's circling depths.

His massive Crinos form hold up that of another on it's shoulders. Smaller, remarkably so but the look from the purebred one at any one staring at the microcrinos should back them down, show them. [Do not fuck with my packmate.] The Beta is of course at his side, a step behind, quiet as usual. They are the whirlwind, fury of Maelstrom.

James Vaughn's gaunt, beautifull, sleek brown Crinos form is standing in stark contrast to those. Mind examining, processing observing from the slightest distance. Away from his tribe a bit, though not enough to be standoffish, just a separation, no pack to speak either. So he stands silently, looking as calm and regal as one can with out the breeding afforded by other tribes. [Do not underestimate me.]

Luca, Fugazi. Younger than his years, alomost...innocent looking as he arrives at the head of his pack. [Everyone of us...] The breakfast club, the justice league of chicago, the brat pack, volcano's brats, whatever. They're there all that youthfull pride, hooting and hollering and toking on awakened pot as they give warning of their arrival. Quiet and distant is the theurge, keeping vigialance over all of them.

His brother, his sisters. He is Alpha by default. And he does not shy from the task, no matter the childlike nature.

(harold/kegan)
~Harold comes in and stands with Barny he gives a wave to all the people he knows assembled at the moment.~

~Kegan walked in with Cliona and the rest of the pack he stands beside her taking a look at the people assembled today~

(barny/rasputin/gustav)
The knights stand beside each other. Nelly center, ith Barny and Leroy to either side, just half a step behind. They are silent, seem almost broding as they wait for the cracking of the bone. ((Hal, feel free to place yourself.. same goes for trey when he shows up)

Rasputin stands next after Brand, head held high, proud. silent, waiting.

Gustav Stands with Annemarie and Silja. As always in his long black trench, waiting for this part to be over with, so the party can start.

(cinn/tes)
*jumping slightly she clenches her fist into a hand and looks appologeticly at Nahi, tucking her hands in her pockets*

(jim/ham/serg)
Jim stood sullen and withdrawn with his pack, he wasn't his normal cheerful self. he looked like a dead man walking almost in homid form.

Hamish moved to stand with his pack after his duties as master of the howl were handled. shifting down to homid wearing a kilt and his normal leather jacket over the sex pistol's T-shirt and combat boots with mismatched plaid socks.

Sergei surveyed the grounds as he stood with his pack in his usual dispassionate way. his one eye meeting each face in turn. his other eye covered by an eye patch as was his habit when dealing with garou matters.

(spider)
Rather than take up a mantle on one of the many logs, crates, or debris used as makeshift seating, Spider has opted to sit on the ground, his legs twisted into a half-lotus, with his palms resting calmly in his lap. He is sitting largely by himself, although purposefully close to the dias. Crackling brown eyes settle on the Truthcatcher, expectantly.

(npcs)
Three of Five. One might consider this like the weaver, the rigidity of the moot. Every sept is different. Every caern has their ways. This is the first step of the makings of their own traditions.

Ahh, the truth catcher. Tura, the blind Black Fury, steps forward, her sunglasses removed, allowing everyone a generous view of her pitted eye sockets, the ravaging claw marks that has robbed her of her sight.

She holds a bone between her hands, slender and long, resembling a human forearm.

Fomoric, perhaps, some long dead beast with the meat cleaned off it.

She stops in the centre of the gathering, head tilting briefly before she raises the bone before her and twists (--snap).

The cracking of the bone is aptly named.

"Those who have something to say, step forward and speak your name."

(yu/fb/jaan)
*Yu gan steps forward.* I am Yu Gan, known as Fasttrack, Fostern, acting elder of the Uktena here in Chicago. Alpha of the quick and I bring before the elders and Sept a concern.

(cliona/am)
Cliona steps forward after a moment as well. “Cliona ‘Ricinus’ Murran, Cliath, Alpha o’th’Murder o’Crows and I bring a concern in th’form o’a warning to th’elders an Sept.”

(decker)
Decker hadn't left his warform yet. The white-touched grey Crinos rises from the crate - waist-high to a man, barely a footstool to him - and stands with his slightly flexed, digitigrade pawfeet braced wide for balance.

Forearms fold across his chest.
"Silence, Fenrir Modi and Elder."

(barny/rasp/gust - nelly)
Nelly bell steps forward. "The Knights of Unicorns Fury Wishes to speak."

She rejoins her pack again.

Barny steps forward.
"I to, have come before the sept to speak"
Stepping back. Apperantly something personal, or the knights voice would have spoken up.

(tucker/vaughn/luca)
The silver fang takes one Giant paw fron the knee of his omega and raises it. "I'd like to make an introdution to the sept." Voice bellos in the high speech, ringing with Rage and breeding in unearthly low tones.

The glasswalker merely looks on at the first moves playing out. Watching the contestants, combatants and judges all.

Fugazi is next to chime in. "I'd like to speak. Giant eyelids hang low on his face as his wolfishly smiles through the low speech. Stepping to the fore of his pack.

(jim)
An unknown face steps out of the crowd "I am Sarah rochefort "Runs with Doom's haste" Claith Silent Strider of the blue mountain sept come to bring a message before the Wyrmfoe and this sept's elders."

(npcs)
The Warder and Grand Elder appear to be content to see what is said, rather than say anything themselves.

Tura stands in the centre, her head cocking to the sound of each voice, mentally working out their position. When all have done speaking, she turns and walks slowly to were the Fenrir Tribal Elder stands, and holds the 'speaker' half of the bone outward, the other half still held in her other hand.

(james)
bone cracks
the floor opens
(.....yawning wide....)

arms loosely folded across muscular chest
so far.. the Gnawer Elder just listens

(decker)
In a smooth grey arc he seizes the Bone passed from the Truthcatcher and holds it aloft in black-clawed handpaw.

Garou Tongue for Garou business. "The Eagle Pack claims association to Roxanne Whitaker, Glass Walker kin, by her request and by our acceptance. We claim Right of Crafting, Right of Warding, and Right of Reckoning. Her skills are ours to utilize. Her safety is ours to ensure. Should she misstep, her punishment is ours to decide."

Somehow the act of official claiming, at a Moot, before a Sept, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"The Glass Walkers retain the Right of Breeding. She is still kin to the Urrah Tribe."

Slowly the Bone lowers. Pale gray eyes glare about. "Who challenges my claim?"

(yu/fb/jaan)
*Yu Gan looks to Decker and shakes his head.*

*Fastball shakes his head quickly. Decker scaring the piss out of him. A little dribble wetting Tuckers neck.*

*Jaan shakes his head no as well. Never met the chick and he had a Kinfolk*

(spider)
Spider lifts two fingers from his lap. "Truthcatcher," an apparent gesture for the right to speak, the words added due her blindness.

(barny/ras/gus)
Nelly glances to Leroy, and then to Barny and Hal, before she takes a step forward to face Deckers claim.

"I do not challenge your claim, yet concering that kinfolk, the knights have a matter to discuss with the eagles, after the moot."

And she steps back. Leroy nods slightly, while Barny stands still, looking thoughtful.

Rasputin stays where he is.

Gustav raises a brow at Decker, g rinning. God move there. He remains still.

(cliona)
A shake of her head. She holds no claim nor wants one on the kinfolk.

(nahi)
Nahimana shakes her head. She doesn't know the woman

(yu/fb/jaan)
Raven 3.0*, Will flutters on Cliona's shoulder and preens her pretty red hair*

(cinn/tes)
*Cinnamon just stands, silent, not having anything to say, she just works on keeping her hands in her pockets*

*Tesrin doesnt know hardly anyone so it doesnt mean much to him if a pack claims a kin*

(jim/sarah/serg/hamish)
Jim looks at decker and shrugs he had other things on his mind anyway.

Hamish didn't know the lass so he said nothing

Sergei frowned silently with distaste, what would he want with an Urrah.

(tucker/vaughn/luca)
Tucker now knocks the microcrinos from his shoulders completely. "That's fuckin sick." He nods to Decker now, as strange as it was it seemed fitting. She is competing with erik for scars now.

James barley contains baring teeth at the use of the word in such a derogatory manner wondering for himself how the get pack can live in such a wyrmhole part of town and not call themselves Urrah.

Luca merely shakes his head. Nope. Not goin there.

(fastball)
*Fastball flips down from Tuckers shoulders. Twin hand fulls of silver hair from where he was holding on. A snort and he lets the furr go in the wind. Goes to stand behind Jo*

(npcs)
All the head shaking? yeah, lost on the Truth catcher, but Decker sees it, so maybe that's the important part. For Tura, she hears a few, and only one person requesting the right to speak. She holds out her hand for the bone. Traditions, after all.

Once given, the bone is pointed at Spider, rather than walking over and handing it to him. "Go ahead." Without the bone, apparently. Walking back and forth, however, would get annoying.

(decker)
The Modi faces Spider, Bone still clutched in clawed handpaw. His assumption was this was a counterclaim -- until proven wrong, the topic was still his.

(breandan o'cathasaigh)
A Ragabash and a Cliath. Brendan waits patiently for his turn at the Bone. He won't even step up for it until the heavyhitters have had their turn. Standing near Cliona, but apart from her pack. With Uaghaihg, who was drunk.

(spider)
"Thank you." He nods graciously to the Truthcatcher, even though she does not see it.

"The kinfolk Roxanne has made an arrangement with us already." Brown eyes shift to Decker once, then moves back to Tura.

"However, we recognize that position is best dictated by choice and talent over blood and obligation. We are content with this decision.. provided we have a talk with Roxanne, in the presence of the Get and a Judge to witness. If she affirms, we will not contest. If she does not, we are obligated to our arrangement and must challenge."

"If the Get agrees, we would prefer the Truthcatcher presides over the issue. To.. determine the truth. Obviously. Later, after the moot. Thank you." Another nod indicates he is done.

(decker)
Decker nods once without reply.
Then he resumes his seat, apparently done.

(npcs)
And Barny is next.

(barny)
Barny takes the bone, looking at it for a moment, then looks to those gathered.
"I have come to speak, yet for honors sake, I ask that My pack is allowed to present their case first."
If the truthcatches gives approval, he passes the bone to Nelly.

(npcs)
"It's your to give it up or take it as you choose," Tura states with a brief wave of her hand.

(kemp)
All this was new and sorta confusing to him, what with his mind on other things and all. Though the talk of Roxanne did register. She was with them now? With the Eagles? Starting to wonder if that meant he could touch her tits all he wanted too, since she was with them now. After all, Decker did say he could do that with another of their kin. A slow smile slipping across his face as the fantascies started.

(barny/knights)
As one, the knights step forward, to face those gathered.

The hulking mass of LeRoy stepped forward another step. His continance was sober as it was sombering. The life of Gaia's heartfelt energies glinted meraculously within his gaze. Proud despite the somber of mood, he held his head high and powerful shoulders straight.

"An unfortunate as occured. Young David Hawthorne, born of Unicorn has fallen. By our able hands, unforgivingly driven has he been recieved into Gaia's bossom. It was not our intention. Yet still, it has occured. May Gaia forgive us as well as this young Spirit for the anger we spent unfortunately against her."

Slow his head pivots around taking in all sights and sounds. Faces as they watch him, whisperings should they be heard by him.

"Territory was ignored, Protocol thrown out the window. Young Hawthorne came to our house with a heart of teasing. Shaming our interest in who was visiting. We knew him not. Nor his reasons. When we inquired, he fleed our questions. To flight. While we persude. Indeed able of feet, for he evaded our long reach. Thus ruled by pride we set upon his heels. We upon four, he upon two. Still, quick cunning and able of foot, he never once shifted to elude us on many afoot. Needless to say, we captured him. Attempted once more to halt and question. Again, now twice he set to flight. No words, no reason to disuade our interest of him. To wound, cripple and set forth our reason we attempted yet again"

A pregnant pause.

"No wound yet had come forth, but as pack we struck as one. And as one we struck hard. Fragile, too fragile for us. For our Honor, we admittingly bit to hard. Fell did he, young David Hawthorne. Fell and breathed no more, for we struck him down to hard. A pitiful mistake. One we Knights shall long endure. We weep for the loss of Gaia's warrior. Flight of Feet was he..and in Honor we put his remains upon this Caern to be remembered as thus. A sacrifice for us all to recall and recant. May our territories be threatened. May our innocents be defended. But may our temperment know resistance..may we all look at our unfortunate actions as memory. Temper your rage. Let us not accept any and all as meer foe. Let us attempt to understand and listen, even should one give us pause and reason against it. It is by attempt that we may advert such an occurance. It is all we Knights ask of you. Use our unfortunate to be a reminder to us all."

Now his brows leveled upon those whom where the Council of Elders.

"As I have stated, and as I have come out to recant our unfortunate occurance. It is upon you that we Knights submit as one and ask now for forgiveness. Already have we set to Honor young David Hawthornes spirit. Already have we confided with our great Patron, Unicorn's Shadow. Already have we bore our hearts to our mother of mother's Gaia and her wounded bossom. It is now that we set ourselves with bent knee and penance at your Council's ruling." He steps back to his pack then.

A voice crackled to life; deep back-woods southern drawl, heavy laiden but still feminent, "The in betweens," the blond vixen known as Nelly Bell stepped forward, "Already two kinfolk have been saught after, poached or atleast the attempt thereof. Nightly and daily calls do our defenses answer to protect the kinfolk known as Miriam, sister of Imogen Slaughter, from drugdealers and those wishing to harm the child. Thrice we have battled against those pushing the wicked ways of the wyrm upon her, in our own backyards. Following them home, Alexi and the like, to wish harm upon them. Kinpoachers are abound. Our defenses around the house, have as of late, been alert; our eyes and ears hold caution to the events and feet which tread our territory. And upon that fatefilled night, when David Hawthorne fleet of foot came to throw trashcans upon our doorstep at One A.M., the house again sparked to life with defence," taking a breath, "Under the no-moon's gifts he hid from the Phalnex wall, while Harry and the child of Vine made safe the innocents under the roof. When the pack was upon the frontpoarch stoop, then did David Hawthorn make himself known. But 'lo with slanderous toungue did he gibb. Upon our queries of who and why his answer was his name, tribe, and he had come for our kinfolk, Alexi, she asleep upstairs," shaking her head,

We have known of no such man as this David. With a warning word we gave, he was upon the Knight's territory, rousing the children and kin within the house with his tossing of garbage upon our stoop, standing before his own tribal leader. And to this he slandered our packs name, made no apologies for the ill he had caused, and took immediatly to flight," pausing, her bedroom gaze fell over the council and collected,

A gibbious moon hung low in the rain clouded sky that eve. It fuled my own passions, and thru me down the link which binds us all, a part of that fule trickled as happens within every pack. Chase we gave. Upon four legs to catch Hawthorn upon two. When pause behind parked cars the man gave, cornered by three, a second warning was baded, "Surrender, submit, May Gaia bless you with the wisdom to not enrage us further, were words of the Children of Unicorn's tribal leader," shaking her head, "A chance for the boy to take heed, for LeRoy understood what fuled my soul that night. But alas, he gave no reply, but leaped over LeRoy to make way down the street. And that is when all three struck at once. Harry and LeRoy wished none other than to catch the boy. I willingly admit I yearned for the taste of blood. But death we did not want to usher in for him. Death was not heralding in upon our wings that night. I tasted his blood and flesh as did LeRoy. But teeth fell too close to the spinal cord, and it was cut under the velocity and weight in which his body fell to meet open maws," her words fell silent, hanging heavily with sadness her lips and eyes frowned, "And so we put to rest David Hawthorn, anarchy 99, first ranked of the children of Gaia within the Caern's soil. But we would like to put to rest the slaying of our brethern in one heated, damp night, with the members of this Sept and the council of Elders do we seek forgiveness." Before she as well steps back.

Barny has remained where he is still. He was not present at the incident, yet as pack, he stands to be judged, condemned, or forgiven with them. As sombre as his packmates. The loss of the gaian has brought to life something thought forgotten.

(harold/kegan)
~Harold stands with the knights he may not be bonded with the pack yet. But he is bonded by action and he will not back out he had as much to do with it as the others he awaits his punishment with the knights~

(kemp)
Cocks his head, trying to pick exactly what was said out of the odd speech pattern.

(npcs)
The Grand Elder's weight shifts, drawing attention to his whip-lean frame, before raising his voice, "Tura," to catch the Truth Catcher's attention.

Tura's head turns and she holds out her hand for the bone, openly, having lost it's location amidst the shuffle. When she receives it, she points it in the direction of the Glass Walker.

"The Council has heard your explanation, and we will reconvene at a later date to make a decision. You will have your answer ASAP." Trust a Glass Walker to take 10 words where it might take 5, and then use an acronym anyway.

Tura lowers the bone and cocks her head at the group, eye sockets staring. Are they finished or was there more?

(james)
James listens.... and listens.... oh, and listens, too
(daaaayum..... did somebody take notes on that?)
overlaying each story to make a single thread in his mind
any reactions he may have make no appearence on his face
dark eyes flick towards the Grand Elder as he speaks
and still, the Ahroun remains silent

(brendan)
"Oh, shite, me hairy balls," Brendan mutters to Cliona and Uaghaihg in an undertone pitched JUST loud enough to be overheard by those standing around them. And maybe by the unfortunately sharp ears of the Truthcatcher. "That ups th' bar f'r us Fianna. I don' know if we c'n talk more'n tha'. Might be we have t' gi' up the epic bullshite'in' crown t' th' Coggies." Unrepentant grin.

(yu)
*Yu Gan frowns darkly and looks to the other counsil members.*

(nahi)
Nahimana shakes her head unable to believe what she's just heard

(cliona/ann)
Shoulders shake (amused), and she hangs her head, but shoots Brendan a look out of the corner of her eyes, through two-toned hair. She doesn’t reply, just tosses a wink his way. She’s up to the challenge. Though her own talk is already prepared, and she is not going to add to it.

she thinks.

(cinn)
*Cinnamon supposes she isnt the only one to have accidently killed innocents...shivers and huddles against Nahimana*

(knights/barny)
With that, the knights step back again, to resume their place. All but one.

Barny remains standing in center, turning his head to look upon those here.
"I Lay my claim to be seen from this night, no longer as a cliath of the nation, but as a fostern, a strong, and able warrior of Gaia in her service."
Slowly looking around the great circle.
"I lay challenge to a fostern for that right."
His gaze falls on Decker.
"you have known me as long as any here Rhya. It is to you I lay my challenge. Do you accept?"

(npcs)
Being blind, Tura's ears are sharp. It makes 'speaking out of turn' a whole new ball game.

The bone is whipped around to point in the direction of the Fianna pack, "Be quiet."

The Grand Elder and Warder's attention (and probably every one else's) turn toward the Fianna pack, a moment of stark consideration, before gaze turns back, as Tura offers Barny the bone, and he is allowed to speak his challenge.

[cont'd next file]

Posted by james at 12:00 AM

.05.04.04. - inner sky [moot pt.2]
[the caern - forum - file]

The second part of the moot.
Revering the totem spirit.

(helena)
Silence reigns as the Inner Sky begins, and the Caller of the Wyld, Helena, steps forward. She is in Homid, the form she was born to, and dressed in a long white piece of linen wrapped around her slender body and pinned in various ways to make it stay, leaving her arms bare. A knotted cord of what looks to be wool circles her waist, and a golden armlet circles each of her upper arms. Her long black hair is loose and flows down her back. She pauses for a moment, and then begins to speak, her voice strident in the night.

"We have gathered in this sacred place of Gaia, Mother of all, and now having called our brothers and sisters of Gaia, we now call our brothers and sisters of Luna."

She faces towards the east, raising her hands slightly, palms facing the sky.

"East Wind! Bringer of the dawn of clear air! You who showed us the mirror side, the other side of the Velvet Curtain, come to us! We thank you for your clear thought and bright light!"

Now she turns to her right, to the South, and speaks again in the same manner.

"South Wind! Bringer of the eternal fire! You who gave us the fire of Rage within, that we strike swiftly against our enemies, come to us! We thank you for your fiery anger and your protection!"

Once again she turns to her right, this time to the West.

"West Wind! Bringer of the rain! You who gave us the Changing Ways, come to us! We thank you for the many shapes you've shared with us!"

She turns to her right, to the North.

"North Wind! Bringer of cold from the mountains! You who brought us the Gifts and the Sacred Ways, come to us! We thank you for your wisdom and your strength!"

Now she raises her hands above her, palms facing up, her dark eyes lifting to the sky as she speaks.

"Inner Wind! Bringer of blessings from Gaia from within us! You who hold our Mother's power, come to us all! We thank you for your spirit and your peace!"

With hands still raised, she looks around, her voice ringing out through the crowd.

"Spirits of our brothers and sisters! Sacred patrons of our packs! We call to the cunning ones - Ferret and his brood! We call to the wise ones - Crow, Roadrunner, and Twister! We call to the warriors - Raptor, Eagle, Weasel, and Unicorn's Shadow! We call to those who are respected - Merlin and his brood! We call to those whose names are found in secret! Come to us! We thank you for your care and aid in times of trouble! We praise your bravery and courage!"

She then turns towards the Heart of the Caern, holding out her arms towards it as she speaks again.

"Maelstorm! Strength in adversity! You who teach us to sacrifice for the good of She Who Wears the Night Sky, come to us! We thank you for your wisdom and your strength of purpose!

Accept our thanks and praise of your names, great spirits in service of Ge, who birthed heaven and the sea and all there is! This is the respect we show to you! This is the gratitude we have for you!"

(binary)
Ahu.

The void of space.

And for a moment for a singular second, a millisecond no more. There is that startling silence. That vacancy of before when one may imagine the spirits may not come - not THIS time. Of course there are the faithful, those that believe in the blind benevolence of enigmatic umbral providence - there are those who do not KNOW and in their ignorance are blissful. Ignorant of this - silence - fractional as it may be. The Wyld is called, but will it answer?

And indeed there will be time - time for you and time for me.
...time for the taking of toast and tea --

This is the moment when the metallic edges [under-the-skin] of furred pelt bristles, raises. [ We love you, we need you, we honor you..] and yet it has always been a question. The woman is as still as stone. Monolith. Will you help? Not an assumption. Not a point of fact to be taken for granted even in this infinitsimally small space of a second.

Time do wonder "Do I dare" and "Do I dare?"
Time to turn and descend the stair....

That second, that breath, that moment is an eternity. Always. Always. Always. It is the crux of what it means to fight a losing battle. It is the distant hope of victory. Believe. To hover on that brink, legs crouched, heart beating, lower-lower-lower [ ....Will you catch me?.... ] before the leap forward. And in that end would it even matter as we thrust fleshly bodies forward into the maws of war? The chasm is yawning open below - a maelstrom.

Do - I - Dare?

...disturb the universe - In a minute there will be decisions
which a minute will reverse.

[Given-wings-on-which-to-fly. ] And then the rush of wind. That familiar spiritual presence of strength. These are not our toys, our powers, our possessions. They are our allies. There is that familiar rush, o similiar to the ecstacy of devotee with the rewards of a miracle. They are here. And Binary's head is bowed at the awe of it, after fifteen years and it could always bring her to her knees. This moment. They are here....

They have come.

For now.

Posted by james at 12:00 AM

.05.04.04. - opening howl [moot pt.1]
[the caern - forum - file]

Full moon. May 4th. Weather is clear, and cool. Lake laps gently at the desolate shore. Umbralside, in the huge hangar with the gape-holed roof, the Garou gather for the first Moot of the new sept.

The Master of the Howl is the first to raise the howl. Fianna Galliard that he is, it's achingly beautiful, almost otherworldly, soaring like an arrow shot into the sun. For a second or so, he howls alone.

Then...

(Yu Gan:)
As the opening howl sounds it finds him in lupus. Watching he waits for the Grand elder to howl.
A second after he does, the Maned wolf that is Yu Gan's Lupus form throws back his head and adds his eerie Uktena voice to the growing cacophony. Leading the Quick into the howl.

(Jaan:)

The silver furred beta of the Raptors pack waits for his alpha to howl and then throws back his head and joins as well. Though homid he's in his crinos form at the moment.

(Fastball:)

Sitting on Tuckers shoulders in his MicroCrinos form, the little bone gnawer waits untill both Tucker and Jo have started to howl and adds his little squeeking howl to the braying werewolves.

(Will:)

Will just stands over by Cliona and the crows trying to not TOTALLY FREAK THE FUCK OUT at all these barkin' dogs!!

(Cliona:)
Will fidgets nearby, and gets a glance from the young Irish lass who listens to the cacophony raise in the anthem of the nation, lead by the Master of the Howl. A moment, he sings alone, and then she joins the others lifting their voice, stepping slightly forward ahead of her pack and lifts Crinos head to join in, leading the Crows to join the soaring song.

(AnneMarie:)
She cannot join the Master of the Howl, even after Gustav lifts his voice to add to the growing thunderous sound. Instead, the large crinos lifts her head, and stomps a foot in cadence to the undulating waves of her howling brethren.

(Jo)
Jo stands in lupus with her pack. Once Tucker has started, she joins her alpha in the howl.

(Kveta Novotny)
Kveta listens as the moot's howls begin to sound, as each collective voice if gathered. It was a sound she'd missed since coming to America. Lifting the Crinos maw, she added her throaty howl into the cacophony, leading the Ferret in.

(Kris)
*Flying up into the rafters Kris picks a spot and lands, shifting into homid form and leaning back against one of the poles that are up there, looking down as the Opening Howel starts thinking to himself for a moment that this may be one of the few times that all of the Garou in the city actually get along < Pausing in thought than speaking quietly to himself >* "Yeah right" *chuckeling as he awaits the rest of the moot, looking down and seeing Will he waits untill the howeling is over than he uses the gift Mores to tap out a message, hopeing that he is close enough to a pice of the structure to hear it.*

(Victor Yelsukov-)

Victor arrived shortly during the Opening Howl, and immediately shifted up to Crinos. Silver-grey fur rippling with gusts of wind softly, the Fist of Law raised his voice in the howl. He had not the talent for such things, but still the king's nobility allowed him to have some sense of dignity for howling.

Arms folded over his muscled chest, he remained in Crinos for the moment, until the howl was finished, which he then returned to Homid.

(James Wagner-)

The Galliard knew a thing or two about music, putting it lightly, so it goes that he could howl particularly well. Semi-pale skin rippled into black and dark grey fur, as the Fianna lifted his wolfish voice in spirit with the sept's moot.

The Sandman stood beside Cliona, whom he gave a gentle poke in the side after he'd finished his little howl. Of course he made sure not to dig his talon into her ribs. That'd be mean. Heh.

(Flesh of Fire)

The scarred Shadow Lord stands by her alpha, sturdy crinos form a mass of black, bristling fur and savaged, twisted flesh. When The Maiden's Bow lifts her head to howl, it is two beats before the philodox does also, the scratching strain of imperfect vocal chords ripping through the deeper-pitched sound.

(Virago)

The Alpha of the Carreau de Sang is lithe in her crinos form, the shiver of her wintry pelt a luxurious ripple as she shifts and stretches that pale silhouette out and out. With the tilt of sleekly lined muzzle in an elegant obeisance to the moon, her voice joins that of the others in high and pure note. It is but one moment apart, and she distinctive and vibrant, before the sound weaves into the primal symphony to join in one cohesive whole.

Shift down.

(Sister of Shiva:)

She stand amongst the packless, dark temptress in dark garb. Her ebon hair lending shadows to her olive toned features. Black almond shaped eyes scan the gathering of garou. As the others howl, she watches. Once the din of howls is almost excruciating, she tilts her head backward revealing the smooth planes of her neck, which ripples and stretches and sprouts midnight black hair as she achieves her warform. Her howl mingles with all the rest, lost in the mass of sound.

(Vit Rättvisä:)

She stands with her packmates, a ghostly figure beside their solid forms. Her skin is the palest of pale pinks (almost white), and it is luminous in the darkness. As her packmates shift to their warforms, so does she. A white pillar amongst the various shades. Not the silver pride of a Fang, but the palest, chalky, ghostly white of an albino. Blood red eyes shut as her head is thrown back, and her howl is joined with those around her. Filled with rage, and despair. Filled with hope.

(kemp)
He had never been to anything quite like this and really had no idea what to expect or to do. One thing Kemp could do and that was follow along. When in Rome, etc....

Tendons popping, body elongating with a coating of muddy brown fur replacing his long shaggy hair, spreading across his body with darker markings showing at muzzle and ears. Once he was shifted up, he tilted his head back to join in the howl. No idea why he was howling but something pulled at his primal soul. A long wavering howl starting deep in his chest. The cry rising and falling in tone. Loss, sorrow and longing in the undulating cry that came from deep inside him. Singing his heart out in that few moments.

(trey)
There's a grin on Trey's face as the howl is let out, letting it pass over him and through him before joining it, feeling his body thicken and grow taller as he invokes his war-form, his head tilted towards the sky.

(Barny)

He joins in the howl together with his packmates, his deep, thunderous voice brought to light.

(Gustav.)
He waits for the howl to start, then shifts to Crinos, and let loose a great howl towards the sky.

(Rasputin.)
HE remains quiet for a while, then the pale garou raises his muzzle to the sky to let loose his howl together with his pack.

(leRoy)
The Massive Crinos of LeRoy easily stands taller than the rest, his muzzle moonbound in homage to Luna, his voice carries with the others in unison. Passionately he sings with the love of Gaia in each vocal string.

(pinky)
Pinky, Cliath Galliard of the Children of Gaia:

::She's there with her pack. Young, blonde and and INSIDE the group rather than leading or on any sort of periphery. When they stand she does as well shifting to immediatly to lupus and howling. The way on a coggie galliard can, lovely.::

(james branson)
Luna rises gravid in the sky above reality
smiling upon terra forma in all her silvered glory
beyond the shadowy gauntlet that protects the Umbral realm
James stands tall with the other members of Eagle's battle-hardened pack

raggedy fur drapes vestiges of jungle-vine dreads maned across broad shoulders
shades of earthen browns darkly melt through spring-slimmed coat into saddle of grimey black
pawfeet spread wide to balance the Gnawer's heavy Crinos weight

he listens, umber eyes slanting closed, to the haunting ether of the Master's opening howl

then as the voices of his pack lift and find their harmony
the Ahroun throws his head back and brays anthem to the night's velvet sky
(pour your soul unto me, my faithful soldier)
adding warrior's earth-rumbling fury to the sept's first deafening song

(Alex Caps-the-Knees)

Alex is there, for the first time. Sticking out like the city-slicker he is, though he sits far back as his rank demands. He joins in the howl, though he's quiet as usual.

(shame?? - poem unlimited's metis)
The metis squats with his malformed back against the corrugated iron side of the warehouse. Shifting occasionally, he lets the metallic imperfections scritch and dig into his thick, hide, a casual abbrasioning that does little to alleviate the incessant itching. Massive claws hanging between his thighs, he waits, and then, when the howling begins, he stiffens, looks sharply from one Garou to the next, almost bewildred by the sound, and raises his muzzle to the distant iron raftered ceiling almost too late.

His howl is raw and full throated, like a river of molten iron shot through with slivers of gold and silver and platinum. But it comes to late, and before he can really let his voice swell and melt with the others, the Opening Howl draws to a close, and he cuts his off with a snap of his jaws.

(sasha)
It was a pond of coloration; dark and light shades, pattern and solid variations of fur, mesh and melded together in the packs, which gathered to bay under the pregnant face of Luna. Pride and love for their Mother, swelling in the breast of each individual beast. Voices of different octaves rose to carry in rising crescendo of unison and harmony. A voice cuts through the loud howls to mingle with the feral symphony of the Open Howl. The richness of the husky-sweet tone carried an allure of enchantment in its depth, emitted from the swelled out lungs of the Mistress of Rites, Honeysuckle Jubilee.

Sasha stood in her birth form; fur, pitch-black, melts into the backdrop of shadows. Large paw-hands wrapped around the tall, engraved staff of dark rosewood that helps to balance the weight of the tall, sleek Cajun Child of Gaia.

When the Open Howl draws to its closure, her voice is one of the few that dies away first, falling into utter silence for most of the Moot.
Her voice would speak out when it needed to say something, for now, bright yellow wolf eyes watch from the pitch-black lupine.

(Curata::)

The Ahroun stood towards the pack of his pack. Brute muscles of the Crows, one of Cliona's Boys. Lupine head lifted up to lend his voice to allow his voice to mingle with his comrades. His furry form, thick through the shoulders and chest, burly like a bear. A lush pelt of two-tone colors covers his body, charcol-grey from nose to tail upon his back, with white undermarkings from throat to tail.

(Anarchy'99:: )
And Mr. Hawthorne?
Dave. Dave? Dave!
Dave's not here.

(Harold Alder)
Harold Alder shifts into lupus and his head looks up to the sky and he lets out a long loud howl to join the Symphony of howls filling the night air.

(Kegan O'Shawnahey)
Kegan shifts into lupus as well and lets out his own low rumbling howl.

(Tucker Riley-)

The Street-King stands fully in crinos form fastball's legs resting on his chest as the micro-garou sits atop his shoulders. Letting his howl go, it's a howl of many things, a contrast like the rest of him one supposes. Chords of sadness of a moot a friend will never see, a few bars of happiness that he can share all of this with Arabella later. Hope, for the fianna girl and fear, fear of not seeing tomorrow. [There's always that. that fear. I'm not afraid to die, I'm afraid of not living.] His howl is one of Rage, of passion, of war. But it's got behind it the percussive thing that is his regal breeding and that is broken only by the single note that runs trough all of it.

Triumph.

[This is my pack.]

(James F. W. Vaughn-)

He howls as well, though not as loud as some. His voice is a barking scratchy thing. His lack of that selfsame breeding the royals posess doesn't help. But his mottled gray crinos form is there too, howling away. His mind at the same time running over liquiable portfolio equity so as to have on hand capital for next week's dawn raid.

(Luca Oliverio-)

Luca's there. Standing amongst the junior sept members. His thin crinos form is between those of pinky and Ancient Heart. Completing the closed off clique are Pachouli and summer, making for that breakfast club feel to the group. ((OOC: to the new pack, if I missed somone, gimme a heads up and I'll fix this one))

Their howl is one of rebellious youth. A song of a few wolves against the world and loving nothing better than those odds. A song of passion and arrogance, but also one of ideals and the unjaded wonderment everyone has when they're young.

We can be heros. For just one day...

(Walks the Trodden Path)

Huge Silver Fang, silver fur, armed and deadly, new and far too old for where he is. Apart ever so slightly from the rest of the garou (world), a howl let forth backed by the power of blood as pure as any found here. Tearing into the sky, rage/hatred/loss/despair. Barely refined, only power behind it.

(Arkadiy Sorokin)

Careful, precise. Not a note away from where it should be. Staying carefully within the boundaries, leached of the true emotion that makes a howl powerful. But, at the very least, present.

(tura)
Beta of the Quick pack steps out of the umbra at the call.
Her war form pitch black with stark with hands up to her elbows as if she had dipped her hands into a large puckit of white paint.

Tura "Fallen-Eyes" Truth Chaiser of the spet lends her voice to the howls. Her glasses gone her eyes a mass of scaring black holes and pink skin. The claw marks start just under her brow ridges and slide down her checks and stop then along her chest a few more lines of scares. She was a sight to see. Her long black hair shifting in the breeze.

(Eyes of Medea)

Black-furred in her War Form, eyes dark as the night itself, the Fury Seer steps forward with her pack, tipping her head back and letting a howl ring out to the heavens, carrying with it her love and devotion to She Who Wears the Night Sky.

(crying deer)
He had heard the howl and he lifted his head. Dark lonely eyes look off into the distance. The moot. He should go and be with them. Slowly he stands and moves his feet taking him fast. His long riffle banging at his side. He hears the howls his heart sings with them. He shifts. The red skys in the umbra almost blinding him in his search of others till he finds it. Malestorm swerling and worrleing.

Crying Deer, howls with them. Sorrow and loss singing in his voice. The longing to search and find to know. His is tall and srong. Grey and brown tinged like a large Timber wolf. His eyes a soft sad wisky brown. His ears moving this way and that lissening to the rest of them. Even the wyrmbringers loved gaia and for that he could tolerate them this once.

Crying Deer
Wendio Spirt Speeker
Cliath
Born of Women.

(summer)
...and there's Summer, golden as her namesake, face mostly hidden by the shadowed brim of her trusty cowboy hat. The girl's tall enough that you might think her a beanpole if it weren't for the lean and lanky grace she wears like it weren't nothing at all. An impression of golden skin, the lower half of a pair of thick braids, light brown, dirty blonde. In the Umbral shadows, the color is nothing impressive. In the sun, the braids might be something else entirely, the highlights pricked out and shining like they was close to on fire. Thumbs tucked into the worn belt loops of her old Levis, a teenaged slouch that's all attitude - all .at.ti.tude. y'all - with that sleek untouchability MC Hammer tried to rap about, somehow possessed by 3/4 of all teenaged girls. Or maybe it's the subtle thread of Get blood lacing her veins. Either way:

can't touch this.

Awww, yeah.

Except, the howl begins and the girl's chin tips upward and her braids dance across her back and the shadow engulfing the lower third of her face parts and she's peering out from under that brim the way a puppy peers out from underneath a bedskirt, just showing its nose and mouth, eyes half-hidden ciphers, ready to steal your slippers the minute you put your feet down. And her mouth is split into this goofy grin that cuts into the curve of her still-round cheeks, brazen with a kind of embarrassed delight.

With a hoot and a holler, she lifts the cowboy hat from the top of her head by the broke-down crown and raises it up like a banner. There's no glare from the sun in the Umbra, but the girl's eyes are slit like she was staring into the sun, with the flat, crinkled look of a sailor or farmer, someone used to staring off into wide expanses of sameness and glare. Soon enough, she's shifting too, the worn jeans and halter expanding and then dissipating as the gray-furred Crinos rises with her pack, old cowboy hat half-crushed in her massive paw, howling her praise to Luna and Maelstrom and Gaia, howling her
praise and delight and war-cry and tribute to the whole damn world.

(Decker)

stands with the Eagles first and foremost.
stands with the Council of Elders to show his affiliation.
stands in Crinos.
stands with his grandfather's legacy tattooed bold upon one shoulder.
stands with his tribal affiliation tattooed upon the other.

When the rest of his pack howls around him, he does not at first. Perhaps he is not used to giving voice in this way. How long has it been since he was last at a moot, a real moot? It had always been the skalds that had born his tales to the other septs; he himself, barring the one month in the catskills, had remained out on the battlefield.

The battle isn't over, but this is a victory.
When he does howl, that's what he howls for.

(Brand)

stands with the Council, his pack at his back. Five shining white Silver Fangs, a blaze of ferocity and purity in this dark age. Though he lifts his muzzle to the sky first, their song bursts forth as one: raw, silver, fierce, proud.

(sliver)

darkest child born of darkest deeds under darkest moon, the horned metis never leaves his birthform, never leaves all four. his howl is a short, rough thing; he roars at the sky and then moves on, always moving, threading through the fianna the get the gnawers the silver fangs...

(there is little to no humility as he passes through these tribes.)

...finally taking up a place crouched, submissive, at the feet of his own tribe.
shadow lords.

(Jackson)

You half expected him to show up with a surfboard. Surf's up, dude! Ride the Maelstrom! Awwwwwesome...HANG TEN!

But, no. He's there in a black jersey (lowkey? hell no, the board shorts he wears are black -- with tongues of orange flame licking up from the cuffs). He's holding a simple red rattan staff, a black sea-dragon carved atop, but he neither leans on it nor holds it at ready. Dedicated, it grows with him as he shifts into a brown-and-white Crinos, throws back his head, and howls at the sky.

(Zoe)

She stands near the Knights, at first in homid, and then she shifts. She lifts her light brown muzzle and howls with them, putting all her force into it. This will be her first REAL moot as a full-fledged Garou.

(Azrael)

He stands in crinos near Gustav. Gustav's pack is the only garou he knows in Chicago, aside from Decker. He's lean..very lean, like he was half starved. His fur is black..pitch black, save for the third eye, encircledby blood red fur, signifying his birth tribe. The black path lays over his right eye. Azrael picks up his muzzle and Howls in that eerie, hateful howl that comes from his birth tribe.

(tesrin)
*Having only JUST found out there was a caern, and with some searching during the days just before the full moon, finally ran across a guardian that pointed out when and where. Tesrin "Treks-the-Tracks" Timov shows his face to those he hasnt met yet during his wanderings around the city. Newbie extraordinaire. He doesnt even have to ask to find his Tribe, they were easy enough to figure out. When he showed up just before the howl, a bit breathless, he plops down near the Gnawers, but not too close. This Sept hadnt accepted him yet. And as far as he knows....no one told him just how NEW this caern was. To him it was a really cool caern with a good meeting place.

When the howl begins he slowly shifts to crinos and adds his voice near the end, jubilant, exhaultant, just plain having a good time and not stressing over things he had no control over. To quote a little white bat from "Anastasia" "Stress, it's a Killah!" for him, it could be. His howl ends just before everyone elses, short and sweet. He'd wait for Cracking of the Bone to make his introductions and offer Chiminage (I think? Can an ST get in touch with me please?) to the caern to be allowed in it's territories.*

*Tesrin is a 5ft 10in 19 year old with wise brown eyes. His hair is shaggy and a bit unkempt but clean. His clothing is old and worn, but well washed as well. Usually dressing in tans and browns with blue jeans ragged around the cuffs. Around his left wrist is an old digital watch on a native american style bracelet to replace the old band. Around his neck is various black leather necklaces with pewter and steel pendants of various religious deities from a catholic cross to a celtic cross and even a jewish star among the rest. Comfortably used (nearly new) Grey and white sneaks on his feet.*
http://www.geocities.com/dragon_loves_wolf...the_Tracks.html

In Crinos he's sooty black with fur that fluffs out in all directions untamably.

(hikeslegandpees garou)
Green, white, and browned furred lupus pads up slowly to her pack... nipping Harry on the ass once before settling beside her boys. Packmates, brothers, fathers, lovers.... they all had nice asses. But Harry's you could bounce a quarter off of.

RT's had made a comment, and proven it to her long ago. Only a lupus could carry the sweet voice of Gaia within each note of their howls.

Thusly her form. Thusly her head thrown back. A howl, long and silver, echoed from her throat.

(brenden o casey)
Brendan O'Casey, Smilin' Bren, is with Uaghaihg. Close by the Crows, too. The lean Ragabash howls in wolf form, his fur black with touches of smoky gray over the eyes, along the muzzle, down the chest and at the feet.

(binary)
Maelstrom, Umbraside.
8:32 P.M

She's there. The 0-1, aka Binary, aka that gun-weilding urrah, aka that asian hardass - y'know whatever works for you. Whatever IS efficent. She's there sitting wherever the nexus of tribe, rank and pack aligns - or perhaps it is the seat of wolf-formed entity which creates the space. [Egg or Chicken. Chicken or Egg.] Utterly unremarkable of appearence, neither ugly nor beautiful - there is no [pure-pure-pure] breeding to speak of. There is only the certainty of her presence, and the subliminal threat: Potentiality.

Only her.

At her right: San Bao.
At her left: 20:10

Never alone.

And when the howl lifts up from the voices of those gathered, in some parts sorrowful, in others hopeful, in some clumsy, in others born of innate grace. The three join in at once - synchronicity. Maybe they had worked on taht motion, was it practiced? Three howls harmonized into the greater whole. A line: Of balance? Of boundary? Of delineation?

A line.

[...the one in the many the many in the one.]

(madison cassidy)
She isnt standing right next to anyone.
In fact she is off by herself from the group. But not hiding by any means.

Having already shifted from her birthform, now in Crinos, the streak of white still remaining in her dark fur. battle scar

She had been at one moot before, she had only been at one...but she remembered enough to get by.

A student once more...truely always a student though right?

Eyes take in the group of people...man there were a lot of them...

And she howls.

Garou.
Warrior.
Madison Cassidy
Wyld Chyld.

(akamatsu)

akamatsu: a smaller, well dressed man stands behind, and slightly to the left of the other glasswalkers. he seems to be of asian decent. he is also unknown. however, he joins the howl in lupus form, and retakes his homid form once the howl is completed.

(erik jonsen)
Where could he be? He'd be hard to miss, even in such a large gathering. Well, maybe not. He is a ragabash (that'ds rotagar to you) after all. Maybe he's invisible, or something. And maybe not.

His pack, the Eagles, know better, though. He is gone. Into the umbra, into the spirit of battle. An aisling he must take alone, so he said. He'll be back. So he said.

(angie kelly)
Angie Kelley:

~Present with Binary and San Bao, this is practiced perfection for them. Three werewolves whose minds are so perfectly matched through spirit and practice that their three voices create one instrument. It is martial. It is notable, different, and ethereal in its synchronized perfection.~

(thunder's mirror)
He stands in the back, a new face in a strange new place. He had noone to stand beside, and noone to stand behind him. however this does not bother the warrior. He steps forth from the darkness, a figure as dark as night crushing leaves, and branches underneath as he looks to the heavens staring into the glimmering face of luna his howl joins in with so many voices.
His howl is dark, and violent, like his namesake it tears through the night sky. Announcing his presence, a stranger beside his kind. This one howl representing the unity of the garou, but also a message to all who might stand in their path.
Indeed the wyrm trembles this night to hear so many howls in unison. His is just one of the many, but even so he makes certain it is heared.

Posted by james at 12:00 AM