She's getting over that fear of hers. She doesn't flinch if someone holds on for too long, though there is still tension there. She's getting over her fears, though her head is still int he clouds. She's not as grounded as she should be. She's close to attaining a rank, or at least being able to challenge for one, and Adam is still completely spacey from time to time. She's not as grounded as she could be.
And to think, this is better than when they first met her. Talking to clouds and confiding in rain puddles.
They came to the caern, though, because they're staying here. And she needs to get better at this. She realizes, recognizes, that she has a lot that she could work on. Her attention is on the moon, and she doesn't pay attention to the smell of rain that tempts the breeze. The Fury smiles to herself, pleased with what has come.
"It's nice out," she says, "finally smells like spring."
[Alek] Adam isn't as balanced as she should be, but Alek is. It's what she is. She's the center of their pack of three, the balance between the rage-heavy Ahroun and the spirit-lost Theurge. Between the three of them, Alek is the 'normal' one.
And yet she walks down streets, watching the faces of those who cannot stand within the range of her Rage. She watches the invisible barrier push them all away from her, and when she does, she smiles.
Like she's smiling now. A dreamy sort of thing that lifts the corners of her mouth and lowers the lids of her eyes. She walks with her hands in the pockets of her ripped and faded jeans. Her t-shirt is old, whatever image had been on it so cracked and faded with time it's unreadable. It hangs from her slim frame.
"I like it. It feels like Seattle." She doesn't say home. No place has been home to the Philodox in over a year. They step into the sparring hangar, that wide open space with the sandy floor and the crates-as-seats. Alek's dark hair is pulled back, but it can't be to keep it out of her face. Her bangs hang nearly into her eyes, huge chunks of hair frame her face.
An old Jansport book bag is left off to the side, and as she walks into the center, and she stays in her Homid skin. When she turns to Adam, Littlest Sister, her Maiden, Alek smiles.
"Ready?"
[Adamidas] "Ready as ever," she says. She smiles, and it's one of pure excitement.
Never tell the theurge that this isn't a game. Don't tell her that play isn't important. She learns the skills necessary. She looks at her sister, clad in a pair of cut off shorts and a tee shirt that's seen some better days. It has a band's name on it; she doesn't remember what it is.
[Theron Locke] The Shadow Lord Theurge had been spending a lot of time at the Caern recently. Whether that was for the purpose of the recent meditations he was practicing or seeking advice from various people . A grumpy Fenrir in particular.
But for now, Theron has been drawn to the sparring circle. The sounds of battle currently created by a pair of Furies. The Lord finding a seat as he watches the battle with interest.
[Wyrmbreaker] Katherine and Lukas ride by at an easy trot, the woman sidesaddle on a white mare, the man astride a tall black gelding. Passing the hangar, they rein in, the woman's eyebrow rising in idle curiosity.
"Oh look, Lukas," she says, "the peasants are entertaining themselves."
-- wait. Abort. Wrong century.
Lukas is crossing the Caern, going from shrines to Wyrmpole, and Katherine may or may not be with him. Passing the abandoned hangars, he hears the unmistakable sound of battle from within. Not the challenge circle, that. Must be another sparring night.
Curious, and perhaps eager, Wyrmbreaker heads for the hangar. Soon enough his tall form shadows the door, then steps within.
[Katherine Bellamonte] She's with him -- though she is minus any white mare, or noblewoman's attire. There is no plumed hat tilted becomingly on her head, and her golden mane is not curled into careful ringlets. It's merely wound back in a severe bun, to keep it from her eyes whilst she patrolled the Bawn.
In truth, Katherine spent much of her time at the Caern these nights, for one reason or another. Tonight, it's investigating what the Garou are up to and it appears, as it often was -- "Oh, how charming," she notes, her hands tucked in coat pockets, her little lip curled in a moderate sneer. "When we aren't being dying in combat, we die in combat for the purpose of entertainment."
She sighs.
"What refined creatures we are."
[Alek] Alek isn't very good at fighting hand-to-hand. She's better than she was before she and Irene disappeared into the Umbra together. When she came back, she had a little bit clearer understanding of how to use her body as a weapon when she'd lost her swords.
She's even worse at fighting her little sister. She doesn't know that other members of the sept, that their war leader himself and most of his pack are starting to gather to the sounds of...well, it's certainly not the sound of a fight.
It starts with a well placed kick to the stomach that has Adamidas nearly doubled over, nearly knocks the wind out of her. It's the only good hit either of them manage to land. It's followed with a horrible swing from the Philodox, one that goes too wide and too fast. Adam follows with the same, and the Black Furies, fierce and proud female warriors that they are, start flailing uselessly at each other.
There's no telling who started it. One of them lets out a laugh, so soft and low it could almost be categorized as nothing more than a breath of air from her lungs. This is ridiculous. Adam tries to intimidate her sister, but as soon as she puts on her scary face, Alek laughs.
And then Adam laughs.
And the Furies wind up doubled over in the center of the sparring hangar, laughing so hard they can hardly breathe. It takes a minute, maybe two, for the girls to even begin to regain their composure. That's when Alek notices they have an audience. It doesn't stop her laughter. She plants her hands on her knees and pushes herself up, greeting the Fosterns and the Cliath Theurge she met on her first day here with a half-smile and a lifted chin.
Then she turns back to Adam.
[Katherine Bellamonte] [Being dying? SPEAK ENGLISH.]
[Wyrmbreaker] "Wow." Lukas blinks, and then he starts to laugh. "What on earth brought this fit of nihilistic gloom and doom on?"
[Katherine Bellamonte] She flits her eyes at him, and the sneer softens a touch. "Too much time spent burying the dead, and chasing after lost causes, I suppose." She reaches out, and links her arm through his. There's a familiarity in the gesture, a long held desire for comfort; for pack.
[Adamidas] This entire endeavor was completely... completely.. completely ineffective.
And there is laughter. Such laughter. The kind of laughter that leaves the smaller fury curled up in a little ball of tired. It makes her stomach hurt- it's a good kind of hurt. She fails, horribly, at making her sister even remotely scared of her. She fails at landing a single hit and, really, she doesn't seem to care. Adam just laughs.
And realizes that they have an audience. Eventually, the laughter does die down. She glances around, content to just take the place in. She shifts, and it's slow. Quite slow. Purposeful, lingering about in various forms, enjoying the one that she's in before, finally, resting in Crinos. Back to looking at her sister, and her eyes are alight and alive again.
[Theron Locke] His eyes were locked onto the fight, watching as the two Furies try their best to land blows in an effective and efficient manner but seem to struggle at both.
Eyes finally liftting away when they seem to finish, no victor really clear as both girls are caught up in laughter. Theron just shakes his head as his lips curl into a grin. A nod of greeting given when Alek looks towards him and raises her chin in acknowledgement.
Turning at a familiar sensation at the edge of his mind, attention drawn towards his packmates in the distance. A nod of greeting given as he indicates for them to come and join him.
[Wyrmbreaker] Lukas dodges anything so demure and coquettish as linking arms, but throws his around Kate's shoulders instead, hugging her unapologetically and -- truth be told -- rather roughly against his side.
"Cheer up," he says, raising a hand in casual hello to the sparring Furies as he speaks to Kate. "Everyone dies. Most causes are hopeless. Blahblah, philosophical blah. You've still got us."
He lets Katherine go, a little more ruffled now than before, and sits next to Theron. "Hey," he says, which is all the warning Theron gets before he continues a totemic conversation from a day or two ago as though no time at all had passed, "I don't know for sure that Thoth is gone. Gina just said she thought he might be when we ran into each other in the BroHo. You should definitely make it a priority to find out, though, since last I heard Thoth is her guardian."
[Katherine Bellamonte] She's pulled into a rough embrace and instead of protesting in a torrent of primly-spoke french accusations and recriminations as a younger version might have done -- she emits a [slightly] harsh bark of laughter and folds her arms around her Alpha's waist for a beat, pressing closer and then pulling away. It was quite reminiscent of wolves at play, the comfort was had in a nip, or the deliberate nudge against the side that sent one toppling.
Topple she doesn't, but she does adjust her clothing in the wake of it.
Somewhere in the Caern there's a fallen Silver Fang waiting interrogation, somewhere in the city her sister wandered, despising her with her every breath, or as far as Katherine knew, already one with their enemy. It did strike her, increasingly of late, that she might well be the last Bellamonte standing in the end. It calls her back for a moment to the Rite of Reawakening, and her father's voice, calling through time and impossibility to her.
No matter; she shakes her melancholy off, plasters a smile on her lips and follows across the hanger, nodding at the pair of Furies til she is seated on Theron's other side.
[Theron Locke] Theron nods and gives another smile as Lukas sits beside him "Hey" and then there it is. He had wondered if the topic was going to be continued. He had done nothing to be ashamed of, so instead of getting defensive, he responds calmly "Yeah me either, I haven't seen or heard anything from him. But last I head.. she and Thoth had a falling out. Told her to go back to her Shadow Lord whoremongers.. and that if he could get Owl to turn his back on her he would. So not sure if that means he's still her guardian or not. The laws of our kind are not my strong point, so if you could provide me with some clarity on that subject it would be most welcome."
A smile given to Katherine and a soft bump of his shoulder against hers when she sits next to him, a nod of small satisfaction when a smile makes it's way onto her face.
"But if he is still her guardian I will seek him out and challenge honorably. I just wanted to focus on my challenge for the rank of Fostern first. Deal with one thing at a time."
[Adamidas] Something about that little girl is offsettling.
She claws into her alpha, only to scream at her shortly thereafter. The sound is one that is downright haunting. Downright offputting. Terrifying in its own right. The next few blows, however, are fruitless. The older female, the pack alpha, the balanced one looks at her sister, and lets out a similar sound. Alek shakes off her initially offput feeling and returns it in kind.
The younger Fury is stunned, somewhere between terror and awe, and barely notices when Alek claws into her. It's an exertion of her will that allows her to shake that fear, to get behind her sister and claw into her. The blow itself should have been powerful, but the Fury is resilient. But Kindly One is strong and she is made of something stronger than simply flesh and spirit.
The other female doesn't have time to land a second blow, because the Philodox bites into her sister. Harsh, and bones crack and sinew rips and blood sprays. Arterial spray, and her sister collapses. Downed.
But it's just a sparring match. This is testament to Alek's control, she holds back. And the match is over.
[Sinclair] One nice thing about the caern is that there are no humans there. That wouldn't necessarily, normally, be the mindset of a Glass Walker. Sinclair is not necessarily a normal Glass Walker, though, and she's not striding around tapping out missives on her Awakened, Dedicated Blackberry (ADB for shorthand, obviously) and organizing a buyout of a major something or pirating a something-something or other terms she doesn't use and doesn't quite get because she never had any interest in Econ and has never even seen the movie Wall Street, back when Charlie Sheen was remotely relevant.
Sinclair strides through the caern in lupus, metal glinting in her cocked ears, the fur on her back slightly patchy from the elaborate, artistic scarification beneath it. The ink she's adorned herself with on her arms, her thigh, her hip, her neck, her ankle: none of that is visible. But the bar through her left bicep shows up in this form, too. Give her time. Eventually this shape will bear more marks, more ritualistic augmentations that tell those with eyes to see about what sort of wolf she really is.
When she slips into the hangar, she's dark-furred and bright-eyed, peering curiously inside before padding deftly and near-silently over to the two Shadow Lords. First, though, to Kate: Sinclair rubs herself against the Fang's legs heavily enough to nearly knock the woman over, were the woman less balanced. She whuffs a low greeting, an affection, and goes to sit herself on her haunches on the other side of Theron.
A moment or two later a foot-tall metal elemental comes whirring into the hangar in her wake, rolling around on one sturdy wheel. Tripoli is bigger in the caern than he usually forms himself in the material realm, where he is often pocket-sized for Sinclair's convenience. He ignores the Garou. He goes to say hello to his friend, Sheet Metal Wall, instead. By running into it and bouncing off gently a few times.
Sinclair watches Adam and Alek for a moment, then wags her tail. And leans heavily on Theron, trying openly to topple him onto Lukas.
[Alek] Alek stands over the collapsed figure of her youngest sister. There are scars within her jet black fur, a burn that slices from her chest into her upper arm, a bite here, a collection of patches there. Her ears swivel back as she watches Adam, little Adam lying on the ground with her blood spilling into the sand. Brought to the ground by her own sister.
Kindly One lowers herself to her knees beside her sister, and there's a grace to the way she moves. Just as there was a fierce agility to the way she moved in combat. Which was not easy to see when she and Adam were flailing uselessly at each other in their human skins. From somewhere in her fur, she produces a small healing gourd. Crushes it over the gaping wound in Adam's chest, the bones broken and shattered outward, her insides out for all the gathered to see. In a moment they close, mostly. Adam's flesh knits back together to the best of its ability, her bones recede back to where they belong.
For a moment, Alek closes her eyes. A second later she's in Homid again. There's blood on her face and in her clothes, both her own and Adam's. She nudges the Theurge, as gently as if they're in room 6 and the Mother is telling the Maiden, Time to get up.
[Adamidas] [Pooooooke. mother's touch, -1 (oww)]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 2, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 4)
[Wyrmbreaker] Katherine's line, like so many Fang lines -- and like their entire race -- is dwindling. Her father is dead; her uncle is a snake; her mother is fading into the background like gilding worn away by the years. Her brother, the man-child, has gotten himself mated and promptly vanished into anonymity. Her sister hates her, and is consorting with Spirals.
Kate alone is still standing strong. It's a lonely thing to be the last of your line; the last great hope of your ... whatever. Family. Tribe. Everything. To some degree, every last one of them knows what that feels like, too.
They don't speak of these things, though. Kate shakes her melancholy off the best she can. Lukas conveys support subtly, disguised as play. They sit, flanking their brother, and while Lukas's eyes are intent and avid on the fighting, he listens to Theron.
And laughs under his breath, "You're sitting beside the Philodox Elder of the Sept and you're asking me about the law?"
Sinclair shows up. Sinclair starts trying to topple Theron onto Lukas. Lukas sets his shoulder against Theron's and pushes back. Theron gets a little squashed.
[Adamidas] She rolls over, and she's covered in blood.
Most of it is her own, but there's a little bit of Alek under her fingernails. She tried, and she knows she did. She also knows that she is quite... quite tired after what felt like thirty seconds of fighting. Really. It had only been a few moments. Not even half a minute. They had been flailing uselessly at each other earlier, but had finitely better luck in their war forms. Dark eyes look up at her sister, and she is beaming.
It's time to get up, and so she does.
The Fury sits up. Her hair's got blood in it, her shirt is disgusting, and she doesn't particularly care about that. She just reaches over, and puts a hand over where she had managed to nail Alek. Just a superficial mark, but there's a bit of pride in it as well.
She's a little woozy, but the theurge looks at Alek with a little more clarity than she is usually afforded, "wanna go again?"
[Sinclair] Katherine isn't standing, so Sinclair cannot brush against her legs. She rubs against the Fang's arm instead, and given that Theron has no sides but front and back left, she goes to his front. And there's no toppling him onto Lukas, given the logistics of the actual situation. There's just a wolf's paws on his shoulders, shoving him backward half-playfully, half-dominantly.
And grinning at him, tongue lolled.
[Katherine Bellamonte] Sinclair has a new playmate in the form of a spirit, and Truth's Meridian is somewhat entertained by this. She had been sitting, her chin propped upright on her palm watching the pair of Furies heal themselves post-sparring session when the Glass Walker loped into the hanger. She was rubbed against, and the jarring knocks her chin from its perch and she straightens, playfully tangling a hand in the Lupus' fur and tugging once or twice before Sinclair goes to try and push her brother over.
The Silver Fang bites into her lower lip when Lukas gently reminds Theron precisely whom it is he's seated beside, and her lashes fan down over her cheeks; she casts her Crescent Moon pack-mate a faux-forlorn expression, her eyes wide and beseeching. "So easy to forget, am I, non?" She laments, the clear-eyed beauty when she knew full well exactly how hard it was to forget a woman such as herself.
Such games they played.
[Alek] Alek remains crouched beside Adam until the smaller Fury is sitting upright. They're both sporting damage from the other. Adam's chest should probably be bandaged. Alek's torso, too. That will come later, though. Adam's reaching out to put a hand over the tear she ripped into her sister, and Alek just smiles at her.
Then she's rising to her feet. "Nah." A hand held out to help Adam to her feet. "We should wait for Irene next time."
The tallish half-Asian girl lifts her arms over her head, stretches from fingers to toes, nose scrunching in a grimace. Adam isn't the only one who's tired already. With her arms up, the tattoos inside her forearms are visible. She drops her arms back to her side and puts her arm around Adam, giving her a light squeeze.
"I'm going back to The Brotherhood. Are you coming?"
[Adamidas] Adam takes her sister's hand and pulls herself up. She's not overly strong, but she does know what she's doing, and she does get up with a bit of grace and poise. She wears bloodplattered and disgusting like it's an art. She slips an arm around her sister, gives her a squeeze. It's a hug, unabashed and pleased. They should wait for Irene, though.
"I have a rite I get to go learn," she says. She doesn't really lament; there's some strange joy in being a theurge. She gets to go learn a rite. It's not a chore, "and some arrows that need making. But, I think Irene would like this; next time we should do it with her."
She looks at those gathered. Ones she hasn't seen in awhile- and an elemental who seems quite excited.
"I'll be in in a little bit, I wanna go say hi."
[Theron Locke] Theron was talking to his Alpha as a pair of paws make their way onto his shoulders and push him backwards. The presence of his packmate reducing the amount of surprise he responds with. Hands raising to the fur around Sinclair's neck as he ruffles her. The corner of his lip curled into a grin as he gives as good as he gets as he tries to push her back.
A laugh and a shake of his head as he turns his head towards Kate "No of course not Kate...you are the radiant one of the Unbroken... the one men look upon in woe and weep" he chuckles "Seriously though. just figured you'd like to sit down first before dealing with your packmates latest drama. So if you have any advice I'd be glad to hear it." His hands continue to reach out and wrestle with Sinclair should she still be there.
[Wyrmbreaker] Theron pays Katherine a compliment. "I just threw up a little in my mouth," Lukas comments, and then he calls out to the Furies.
"Hey, you guys taking off already?"
[Adamidas] "I'm stayin'," she calls back. Tightens her stomach muscles and calls back; she's got a voice on her when she wants to.
[Alek] She releases Adam, still smiling. It's grotesque, the way she smiles with her sister's blood smeared over her face. Reaching up, she ruffles the Theurge's hair, the gesture familiar, close.
"Alright. I'll see you there."
She's starting to walk away when Lukas calls out to the both of them, and she stops, cants her head to the side. Her mouth quirks, bottom lip pushing up as she smiles and lifts a hand in both greeting and farewell. "I am, Wyrmbreaker-rhya," she says as she makes her way to the exit, back toward the Brotherhood.
[zomg sorry for crap post, but I'm falling asleep at the keyboard. Alek's out, g'night!]
[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine, well, she preens. Which is to say she does not interrupt Theron as he praises her -- jokingly or not -- to hear her virtues listed out never failed to bring about cheer in the Half Moon. Vanity was a sin, and it was her greatest and most enjoyed one. Of course, there were some -- Lukas is thrown a very dark look at this point, all annoyance and ruffled ego -- who lived to interrupt these rare moments for her.
She sits back, and studies Theron.
"If her Guardian has done as you say and turned his back on her in spite or malice then perhaps there is no challenge fit to be had, but," a delicate raising of palms, a slim-shouldered shrug. "My suggestion is that you seek him out, tell him your intentions, if he refuses to accept the challenge, bring the case before me and I will rule."
[Sinclair] Three of the Unbroken, all of them with great Rage, are Fosterns. Two of them are elders of their tribes and their auspices. Sinclair, however, relinquished her claim -- challenged for and held with bloody teeth -- of heading the Glass Walker tribe in this city. She has never challenged for leadership of the Galliards.
She shoves Theron down, and there's an undertone of true viciousness in every motion of her form. She's strong, and her presence is blistering in a way that is positively primal, especially in this form. On four legs, with claws and fangs, it is impossible to pretend that Sinclair is not a seething predator, hungry and hunting at all times.
Theron hits the sandy dirt, Sinclair grins wolfishly at him, though pulls her head away with a quiet snarl when he ruffles her the way he does. For a moment her paws flex, then push him firmly down. He tries to wrestle playfully; she shoves him back again with a sort of frightening ease. The traces of dominance that accompanied her momentary play are stronger than any friendliness or affection in her body language.
But she gets off of him then, moving back to her haunches and twisting her head around to look at the Furies, one departing and one staying. Watches silently for a moment, then looks back to her packmate. It isn't a lack of interest, or even dismissal; that Sinclair's concerns lie primarily and ultimately with her pack is something she's made little secret about.
[Simon] His boots scuffed against the ground as the Full-Moon approached the gathering. He heard the voices, and saw their figures moving up ahead and it drew him towards them like a moth to a flame. There was something in the air that got his blood boiling.
Curiosity was a trait that pulled him all kinds of directions. It could be a dangerous characteristic but he also seemed cautious enough that he didn't throw himself needlessly into danger. He was still learning this place, whatever the case, and in order to do that he needed to be seen and to see and meet and interact with others.
Black sleeveless shirt, dark jeans and boots. The Ahroun stood no more than a few steps away from the others and his arms lifted to cross over his chest as he took the time to scan the faces of the others gathered around him, some of whom he had already met. He sniffed at the air."Lovely evening..."He whispers to no one in particular simply announcing his presence more or less.
[Sinclair] The only reason she shifts now is because she has something to say. When she does shift, however, the ease with which she moves into homid tells them all -- if they didn't know, if there was any doubt at all -- that she was born human, used to think she was one. Sinclair's hair is a bit tangled at the ends, though they aren't splitting by some virtue of her monstrous nature. She probably has dirt behind her ears, and has it under her fingernails. She is wearing cargo shorts, dark blue Nikes with white swooshes, and a red t-shirt. No socks. No coat. She's already in a crouch, a human on her haunches.
Near the wall, Tripoli discovers a pile of shrapnel. He seems pleased. For me? his quiet Eeeeing seems to say. And he dives in.
"If he refuses to accept the challenge," Sinclair says, "isn't that his right?" The question is posed to two of the others, though in different ways: to Kate, it is a curious question as to the law. To Theron, it is questioning how far he's willing to take this.
[Wyrmbreaker] Lukas laughs under his breath as he's thrown a dark look for ruining Kate's moment. Thank god he wasn't around for that peasant-bowing-to-royalty moment. He would've blown the whole deal by bursting into wholly inappropriate laughter.
He leans away from the scuffle, then, while Sinclair pins Theron. "Night," he calls to Alek, then turns to Adamidas. "Were you guys practicing, or just playing?"
And, "Hey, Simon." This marks only the second time these Lords have met. Lukas is more relaxed tonight; there are no dead bodies to dispose of, no drunk mate to ward. All there is is his pack all around him, their strength at his back, their warmth at his side. "You've found our secret fight club."
[Theron Locke] He finds himself pushed back into the ground as he attempts to wrestle back with Sinclair. Powerful paws pushing him down once again, perhaps in attempt to ensure that he understood the message she was sending. But then she was off him only looking back towards him after looking towards the Furies. Theron giving her a nod of acknowledgement... not raising his chain as he had done in the past.. but a quiet and assured look that he knew his place.
Then he turns back towards Kate as he listens to her speak "Thanks Kate, sounds like the best course of action to take. Two things though, what happens if he accepts the challenge and then lays a challenge I cannot possibly succeed in? the other if he refuses the challenge and I bring him before you.. could he not request any dispute to be overseen by another philodox. Citing possible conflict of interest , as you are my packmate?" Going quiet after asking his questions, but also when Sinclair asks hers.... curious to know the answer.
[Adamidas] [I would like willpower back, now, kthnx]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 5, 7, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 4 at target 7)
[Wyrmbreaker] "I'm sick of this conflict of interest shit," Lukas opines suddenly. "What do they think we are, a democracy? What do they think a democracy is, for that matter? Fair?"
[Sinclair] "Again," Sinclair says, interjecting after Theron's answers, "he is her tribemate. She is the territory of Owl's children, whatever this one feels for her. Is it not his right to deny your challenge?" A beat. "Not to mention: is it honorable or wise for you to go 'over his head' to a Philodox not of her tribe in order to push the matter?"
[Adamidas] "Both," she replies. And she would have said more, had things not flared up and her attetion was drawn towards a question of conflict that might need mediation.
She is decidedly more balanced at that moment than she is the vast majority of nights. Testament to this is that she isn't bounding off to go investigate the pile of shrapnel Tripoli seems to find so interesting.
Then, they're talking about something and she perks up. This followed of Stheno, who is full up on resolve and what-have-you, observes. Listens. Takes in the story.
[Simon] He grins back to Lukas at his greeting."Oh was this a secret meeting? I can go somewhere else..."He begins to say, and takes a step back from the conversation to listen in on others.
He didn't wish to intrude, they appeared to be discussing something which he could piece together rather quickly, but he wasn't about to speak up about the matter. This was a pack discussion it would seem.
"The smell of blood drew me, I hadn't intended to walk in on anything private."He continues with a smile, warm and polite as his eyes scanned the area. Landing for a second on Adamidas when she speaks up.
[Katherine Bellamonte] "Circumstances differ," Honor's Compass says to her pack-mate as she morphs back into her human skin. Katherine herself does not seem nettled to be asked, but rather, as so frequently was the case with a Half Moon, ponderous on the answer herself as if she were still only just discovering the nuances of meaning behind each of the tenets they lived and died by. "Were it simply an open and closed challenge, wherein one Garou," a nod at Theron, "were challenging for the rights to a Kinfolk of another's tribe, I would likely agree with you, Brutal Revelation," she does this, falls into the proper names for things, for others when she's in Philodox Mode™.
"But, there are other things to consider. It is dishonorable for the guardian of a Kinfolk to turn his back on her, to send her away, even in anger. It sets the arena for more dishonor should he refuse to acknowledge the challenge of one who does seek to honor and protect the Kinfolk in question. In short, if the reasoning for the refusal were not impressive, it may not be deemed acceptable for him to refuse."
The Half Moon's eyes are distant, measuring. She seeks the meridian.
"As for your other questions, Theron, you cannot challenge with fear in your heart. If you set a challenge against another, you are accepting that it is going to be precisely this: a challenge. No Garou would ever simply hand his Kinfolk over to another. There is the need to see if you are worthy of their care and it is within his rights to set whatever terms he will. I doubt you would be satisfied were the challenge so simple."
She raises a fair brow.
[Wyrmbreaker] "No, no," Lukas waves Simon into the abandoned hangar, "that was a joke. This is just a place where your septmates sometimes gather for a friendly spar. Come in.
"These are my packmates," he adds, "Katherine, called Truth's Meridian, Honor's Compass, Fostern Philodox of the Fangs. Sinclair, called Warcry, Brutal Revelation, Fostern Galliard of the Glass Walkers. Theron, called Eyes of the Oncoming Storm, Cliath Theurge of the Shadow Lords. And that's Adamidas Rain of Brass Petals, Cliath Theurge of the Furies, and of the," a faint grin, "Squad of Ultimate Badasses.
"This," he returns the introduction, "is Simon Bonegrinder, Cliath Ahroun of the Lords, currently a prospective of Dark Sky."
[Sinclair] Sinclair twists her neck again to look at Simon, furrowing her brow. "Why would we have a secret meeting in the sparring hangar?" she asks him, as though wondering why he would try to make sangria by dumping canned fruit into old red wine. What kind of a moron...
They are all introduced. She gives him an upward nod; she meant nothing of insult with her sarcasm, truth be told.
On the other hand, Kate says something that has her looking back at the Fang steadily for a few moments. She just watches her. When she does speak again, it's true to her Fostern naming. She is merciless with her thoughts on the matter, to all of them:
"The consequences for casting Gabriella out may have outweighed the consequences of allowing her to remain in your care," she says, with some surprising gentleness. "I don't think we'll ever know for sure. But regardless of that, she is Owl's. If she were not, there would be no question of Theron challenging for her: you cannot turn your back on your Kinfolk and yet still demand that other tribes respect your claim over them. Either he is her guardian and his drama with her is his business for Theron to keep his nose out of, or he is not, and Theron has to seek a blood relative of hers instead anyway."
A beat. "Right?" She isn't, actually, one hundred percent on this. She turns to Theron. "Besides, aren't you like, wanting to challenge for rank soon or something?"
Leaning forward, she claps her hands sharply right in front of his nose, having no idea that what she's about to say echoes what Theron himself was saying. "One thing at a time, man. Bros before hos. Rank before skank."
[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine laughs, it's a sudden lovely thing, the sort of pleasing tinkling laughter one might attribute with wind-chimes, or distant bells. As fair as her eyes, Truth's Meridian is abruptly leaning over and threading an arm over her pack-sister's shoulders and hugging her near for a moment; her lips by her temple.
"Yes, yes. You would tell it so, bien sûr!."
It seems to serve for agreement, acknowledgment of the wisdom contained in the Galliard's words. Lukas, meanwhile, is introducing -- oh, another one -- Bonegrinder. The Silver Fang raises her chin, and delivers what she must consider her most flawless smile; it does reveal a fine set of white teeth. "Enchanted, monsieur."
[Simon] He enters at Lukas' guidance. Stepping into the room and nodding to each member of the pack in turn. Only a few were faces he had seen before, several still unknown but that was about to change it would seem.
"It is an honor to meet you all."He was young, but in incredible shape for his age. The smell of blood kept him tensed and ready for anything as he glanced from face to face. It was intimidating standing before another pack, but also rather comforting knowing that the well oiled machine before him was in fact ready for anything. He almost wished he were more than one man so he could test just how ready they were.
He turns his attention on Sinclair, he was addressed after all."Secret meetings wouldn't be secret if you had them where everyone expected them now would they? Everyone expects secret meetings to be in secret places, so maybe you were thinking outside the box or something? I don't know, why I'm a full moon they don't pay me for my deductive reasoning skills."He was lighthearted in tone, apparently attempting to be friendly in a joking manner back with Sinclair.
He turns his attention on Theron and his smile lifts a little. He wasn't about to toss advice the man's when everyone and their mother seems to be piling it on already.
[Theron Locke] He listens and thinks, probably the thing that he had failed to do so many times before. Considering his response "That is exactly why I am asking these questions now Rhya" the statement directed to Sinclair "to know how far I can go in challenging for Gina without damaging mine or my pack's honor."
He then turns to Kate "I accept that it's going to be a challenge. But there is a difference between a fair challenge and an impossible one. But I am prepared for whatever cards Thoth decides to deal me."
Then Sinclair is speaking again and he falls silent, listening intently to what she has to say. Eyes focused as he pays attention to every word, perhaps this time the Theurge is actually intent on being prepared. Knowing the battle that awaits him rather than going off half-cocked.
He gives her a simple nod when she directs a question to him "I am... I have already spoken with Blood-Summons-rhya.". Blinking when hands are clapped right in front of his face, head pulling back "I know... that was my intention" whatever feelings he had on the words she had spoken remain unspoken.
Turning his head towards the new arrival "Evening Simon... pleasure to see you again." a nod of his head as he returns the mans smile.
[Wyrmbreaker] "Come on, now. Don't downplay your own intelligence." Lukas, the Ahroun, is the one that replies to Simon this time. "A stupid Ahroun is a dead Ahroun."
[Katherine Bellamonte] "Do not worry about the level of the challenge," Katherine corrects him gently, her attention briefly returning to the discussion. "If you believe it is an impossible feat," a pause, a corner of a pink lip quirks. "Such as I find dealing with the unclean portions of the world at large, then you call on a Philodox.
Logic, Theron, it is every warrior's greatest friend."
[Sinclair] She frowns at Theron. "Dude, even bringing up this whole 'maybe he'll set an impossible challenge for me' thing is just... kinda pathetic, okay? It's insulting him to everyone you repeat it to. Also, it just makes you sound weak."
Cardinal sin, sounds like. Dripping with disdain. No, worse: dismissal.
She rises to her feet, looking down at him for a moment, but though her brow is still wrinkled with thought, she doesn't seem keen on continuing the conversation. So she turns to Simon instead. Cocks her head to look at him. "Well, even if you are stupid, don't blame your moon for it," she says thoughtfully after a moment, brow smoothing. "That's like blaming me being mouthy on being a Galliard, and I actually totally blame my --"
CLANG!
Her head whips around to the little gaffling. He's been building a tower of shrapnel, had just gotten it finished and climbed to the top, and then it all tumbled over and he smacked his helmet-like head on the hangar wall. She shakes her head, but looks genuinely concerned until a quiet
eeee
sounds from the pile of scrap metal. I'm okay! All good! Meant to do that.
[Adamidas] "Hey," she says to Simon, and she can't help buit grin, "it's totally weird to see you not completely waterlogged."
They've had beer together. Or, rather, Adam has led the man to beer. He drank it, and she was no doubt distracted by shiny things. It seems to be her default. Her hands go into her back pockets, she stays relaxed. People banter back and forth, and she shifts her weight from one side to the other.
She opens her mouth and-
CLANG!
her attention goes towards the sound. Focused, yes, but not that focused. You couldn't ask the girl to focus too hard when there was a tower being built. The tower tumbled over, and she frowns, brows knit, and she looks
"I hope he didn't dent his head," she says.
I'm okay! All food! Meant to do that.
Back to the group! Paying attention now, honest. Really.
[Adamidas] [all good. Not food.]
[Simon] He lifts his fist to his lips and coughs when Lukas addresses him."Logic, and Reason are the ahroun's best friends, but so too is deception. If your enemy thinks you are a fool then that is what your enemy will take you to be."He says with a nod as Sinclair stands, and he smiles back to her."I blame my being mouthy on my mouth."He says, extending a hand out to the woman and presenting a smile.
Adamidas gets a smile from him as well as a nod of his head."I could say the same for you. Nice to bump into you again."So many people to talk to and so little time.
[Theron Locke] Theron turns to Sinclair, where he would normally answer back he remains silent. She had told him previously that his words no longer meant anything to her. That it was acts of strength she wanted to see , not promises of such.
When she turns away from him, he nods at Katherine in thanks for the advice "I just realise that I am risking more than simply myself. I want to ensure I don't go into battle unprepared ever again. But I'll take an board on your advice... yourself and Sinclair both" a glance given to the Galliard of his pack.
[Adamidas] A beat. Nothing. And then?
"Theron, come spar with me," she says, "please. It'll be fun."
Another beat.
"Or anyone, really. Or everyone. It smells like spring, we should celebrate."
[Simon] He looks at Theron for a moment and a smile lifts."If I may... Face the challenge anyway. If you are given an impossible challenge then the one placing the challenge will lose face. His elders will see to it that justice is done, you however... You will face it and you will succeed. Why? Because you just fucking will, you will best his challenge and place his honor in question. Don't say anything is impossible because we are Garou we make the impossible happen every day. It's how we roll... Know your limitations, but never doubt your ability to do what you need to do. The second you doubt yourself you place yourself and all around you in danger."He says with a sharp nod of his head. Those were the words of a soldier coming through. He wasn't a member of this ones pack but he was a... Soon to be pack member of the one the challenge was being placed against. It was pride coming through not arrogance. It was the words of a young man certain he was destined for greatness alongside his peers. Each and every one of them.
[Wyrmbreaker] Lukas has been half-listening to his packmates discuss challenges and considers Theron quietly now. He looks thoughtful. He looks mildly surprised. He looks cautiously optimistic.
"Good luck on the challenges," is all he says, though.
[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine rises, and adjusts the lapel on her coat.
"I would spar," she announces, and overlooks her peers. "Who would do me the honor, hm?"
[Theron Locke] THeron chuckles at the fellow member of his Auspice as he begins to stand
"Yeah I could do with a workout." he's standing and getting ready to move towards the challenge circle when Simon speaks to him.
He nods and smiles "Thankyou Bone-grinder. I will take your words to heart."
[Sinclair] Kate rises, and at her question, Sinclair's hand rockets into the air. "OOH."
[Adamidas] "Breed form or no?" She asks. She's walking off to the circle. Setting terms and what-have-you.
[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine gleams. "Marvelous!" She claps, and notes the others moving off to the circle. "Perhaps we should move ourselves outside, oui? Lukas?" Katherine shrugs her coat from her arms and tosses it in her Alpha's general direction. "Mind it doesn't drag in the dirt," she cautions him.
"What form shall we adopt?" She asks Sinclair, as if debating on the weather.
[Theron Locke] He shakes his head "I prefer fighting in Hispo" as he follows Adamidas towards the sparring circle
"But let me take care of your existing wounds first." Walking upto her as he places his hands on her body.
[ 1G - MT - 7d1 ]
The healing concluded , he begins shifting down to hispo as he readies for the fight.
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 1)
[Sinclair] "Plenty of room in here," Sinclair says, and that's the end of the discussion. Kate questions her on forms, as Adam is questioning Theron, but
Adam and Theron are Theurges, Cliaths, and not packmates. Sinclair sets no terms with her pack sister, even as she's asking.
[-1R to Hispo, +9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9
[Katherine Bellamonte] [eeee, violence!
-1 Rage, instaHispoKate
+9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7
[Simon] He could either stick around and get to see some blood drawn, or he could walk away and... Who knows? The decision doesn't take long, he decided if nothing else he could watch the pack mates spar away. It seemed better than walking home.
[Adamidas] And, with that, she's off shifting to crinos. And, with that, she's taking steps away from him, readying a bow. It takes time to do this. But she is content to take that time.
[Wyrmbreaker] Lukas rather deliberately folds his arms and watches Kate's coat go whompf on the ground. At his feet. In the dirt.
"Whoops," he says. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is a shiteating grin.
Then they're fighting, his packmates and septmates and tribemates, and he's spectating -- quiet, enjoying himself, enjoying the raw red scent of blood in the air; but watchful, too. Watching how they fight. Watching to see how they might improve.
[Katherine Bellamonte] [1a. Bite Sinclair!
1b. Bite Again!
1c. annnd once more.
R1. Clawz
R2. Clawz.]
to Sinclair, snail
[Sinclair] [1a. move to flank
1b. bite
1c. bite
R1. hamstring]
to Katherine Bellamonte, snail
[Sinclair] [1a. I'm movin'!
1b. -4 / diff -1]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 3, 3, 3, 4, 7, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 9 at target 4) Re-rolls: 3
to Katherine Bellamonte, snail
[Sinclair] [+8. pulling at incap if necessary]
Dice Rolled:[ 16 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 4, 4, 6, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
to Katherine Bellamonte, snail
[Katherine Bellamonte] [Ooooooow.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 5, 5, 7, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
to Sinclair, snail
[Katherine Bellamonte] [1a. Biting on Sinclair, ya'll! (-3 Split)]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 5)
to Sinclair, snail
[Katherine Bellamonte] [Damage + Hispo + 2]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
to Sinclair, snail
[Sinclair] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 3, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
to Katherine Bellamonte, snail
[Katherine Bellamonte] [1b. Bite again! (-4 Split)]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 5, 6, 6, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 5)
to Sinclair, snail
[Katherine Bellamonte] [Damage + Hispo + 4]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 3, 3, 5, 5, 5, 8, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
to Sinclair, snail
[Sinclair] [YOUBITCH.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 4, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
to Katherine Bellamonte, snail
[Sinclair] [Incapped!]
to Katherine Bellamonte, snail
[Katherine Bellamonte] Such things are always over so quickly.
It's because they're supernatural creatures, such enormous beasts of impossible destruction. They can deal it out, such as Sinclair does first. She's flanking her pack-sister before Katherine has even fully finished shifting into Hispo and getting her bearings; her deadly teeth sinking into soft hind quarters and drawing blood, ripping at muscle and tendon. The Half Moon yips and her gums draw back over her teeth.
They circle, and the Silver Fang goes on the attack.
Her teeth find the other Garou's shoulder first, and deal a bite hard enough to wound the resilient Glass Walker, Sinclair is bleeding, but she's not done. At least -- not until Truth's Meridian teeth unerringly find the vulnerable throat with her next vicious attack and she bites clear through; blood splatters over her pristine white fur and the Galliard falls, incapacitated. For a moment, the Silver Fang hovers over her fallen sister; bristling, triumphant.
Then she licks her maw, leans down and rummages until she locates one of the Gaia's Breath's.
It's cracked open, rousing Sinclair.
[Simon] He blinks in surprise as the Silverfang moves, swiftly and aggressively. She slips in for the kill and draws a lifted brow from Simon who can't help but be impressed. She moved with such grace, and certainty and struck with incredible force. He could not help but find himself applauding the woman."That was quite simply, stunning..."He rewards her with the tiniest hint of praise.
[Theron Locke] [ 1c - Bite - 4D + 4B - 7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Sinclair] This has happened so rarely that Simon over there is witnessing a treat and he doesn't even know it. The number of fights Sinclair has lost since coming to Chicago can, literally, be counted on one hand. One was against a Fury Ahroun she insulted. One was against a Fostern of her tribe whose fur turned to metal, and none of Sinclair's skill in combat -- evident from the way she moves, the places she chooses to bite -- could help her there.
The fact that Katherine Bellamonte, who used to be... well. If we're honest, she was never useless in a fight. But she was never close to the sort of martial class that Lukas and Sinclair are in. No need for her to be: she is a Philodox, not a Full Moon. She is a Fang, not a predator who borders on rabid. But she nearly always held her own. Still, the thought of her beating Sinclair in a fair brawl would have been scoffed at by any member of the Unbroken.
Other than Sinclair, who woke from the first frenzy since her First Change to find Kate standing over her with Sinclair's blood drenching her snow-white fur.
In two bites, Kate bears the Walker to the ground, and perhaps Lukas over there blinks at how quickly it happens, and the fact that it happens at all. Perhaps Theron gets distracted -- or doesn't notice, since he has an arrow sticking out of his eye around this time. There were small gourds rattling around in Sinclair's pockets when she was in homid. Kate takes one and it seems to flow out of Sinclair's very fur, dedicated to her flesh and spirit.
Tripoli, it should be noted, is freaking the fuck out. He's zooming across the hangar floor, going slower over sand and faster over dirt, flailing his extendable arms that move like slinkies. He's EEEEEEEEing loudly and frantically, zooming around the two sister-wolves in circles, in an utter panic.
Sinclair's eyes open, pale blue and ethereal. She shifts into homid. She looks upward. She hears Simon's voice. She looks at Kate, then props herself up on her elbows and looks over at Tripoli. "Okay, dude. Little dude. DUDE!"
Tripoli skids to a stop, then zooms straight towards her. "Holyfuckchillthefuckoutjesuschrist," as the gaffling throws his arms winding and winding and winding around her upper arm. She's still wounded, but the second bite has vanished entirely, leaving only bloodstains. She pats the little spirit and looks at Kate. "You wanna go again?"
[Katherine Bellamonte] Perhaps none of them are more amazed than the Silver Fang herself. She's panting, shifting down into her human skin while planted on her haunches beside Sinclair as she heals enough to stir and comfort the zooming, panicking spirit doing laps around the hanger, speaking the gibberish tongue of the spirits. Katherine's mouth is bloodied, and she's injured herself; finishing laying a gourd from her pocket full over her wounded leg. The worried flesh re-knits itself together as if it had never been ripped into at all.
You wanna go again?
She grins, and straightens her shirt sleeve. "Certainly, if you feel up to it." A dancing light resides there, Katherine glances at Simon, acknowledging his presence and his praise.
[Adamidas] The battle has gone as such. The Fury lets loose a flurry of arrows. One hits, two hit, and the third hits, but one one succeeds in doing any damage. She notes how many she has left. Notes how much space she has been afforded. Notes how far back she can get and how much room she has before she can't retreat any further.
She unleashes arrows, and the male bites into her once, enough that she notices blood coming from a familiar wound.
This is proof, ladies and gentlemen, that an archer's friend is distance. That tactics must change when you are fighting alone. Because, in the end, the Shadow Lord is faster. He's stronger, and he knows where to bite. And he does. She tkaes a moment to adjust, takes steps back, and he keeps coming. Half blinded, he
just
keeps
coming.
And it doesn't matter how many arrows the Fury lets off in the end [But she'll know. Five didn't do it. Next time, it should have been six. Or eight. Next time-] Next time is far from her mind, and he tears into her. And for the second time that night, the Fury goes down. Hits the ground with a disgusting thud. Is rendered incapacitated by someone else's teeth.
She falls with a too-strong grip on her bow, but she falls none the less.
[Simon] Quite a bit of dropping to the floor. Two battles, and two ladies fall tonight. It was neat to see them in action, to witness and study each ones form. He wasn't passing judgement though he certainly could see some flaws and tips that a full moon might be able to give. He would, however, leave that up to their pack Alpha. He was certain Lukas saw everything he had and how he might be able to improve his own pack. It was still a treat... And in the event he ever found himself fighting by this packs side he would know a little better the talents each brought to the table.
[Theron Locke] Theron lets out a low chuff as he watches the Fury fall to his savage bite. It had been a close fight and the Theurge knew he would have to fight more strategically next time. He pads towards his fallen sept mate , an arrow still sticking out from his left eye. Forepaws placed on Adam's body as he lets the healing energies flow into her form.
[ 1G - MT 7d1 ]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6 (Success x 6 at target 1)
[Adamidas] "What are your eyeballs made of?!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 5, 6, 10 (Success x 6 at target 2)
[Adamidas] She doesn't waste any time pulling the arrow out... or healing the other theurge like this is nothing. Arrows aren't meant to be pulled out, though. They're designed in such a way that pulling them out could cause problems. However, given that she is particularly good at what she does, the other theurge might not have time to notice the fact that pulling an arrow out of his head really effing hurts.
But they're garou. he's lived through worse.
"Good show, that was fun," she says contently.
[Theron Locke] His teeth are gritted together as she pulls out the arrow. The pain is there, but it is something that they have all learnt to live with, be it war wounds or simply the process of their form shifting those first times. But he stands still and trusts her to do her work.
Feeling the healing energies of Gaia flow through him as his other various injuries are healed without too much trouble. When she has finished , he changes upto homid to join her in their birth form.
"It was... we should do it again sometime." a nod of his head
[Sinclair] Sinclair looks over at Theron and Adam, glances past Simon, then looks at Kate. "You know I am," she says, offhand enough that it's genuine, and that Kate at least knows it to be perfectly true, "but actually, I think I'm going to head over to the Loft. I was doing some laundry."
She is bleeding. She puts her hand to her neck and then crouches, letting Tripoli unwind from her arm and settle on the earth again. "Next fight night," she says to Kate, as the elemental starts to wheel after her. A half-grin to Lukas. "You and me. Sword and axes. Put on a nice show for everybody."
With a flippant salute to the other two Fosterns and a nod goodbye to Simon, Adam, and Theron, Sinclair heads out of the hangar. She doesn't favor her side where she was bitten. Her 'pet' follows after her, whirring and clicking away worriedly.
