verdict.

[BWF] Not an easy task. Lots of close calls. When Sarita returns to the Caern, she's utterly drained; probably wants nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep for a few days.

Balance is still waiting for her, though. The challenge circle remains unbroken. And he doesn't give her a moment's rest.

"Welcome back," he greets her. "Report."

[Sarita] Sarita looks exhausted, a little wobbly on her feet. She rubs the side of her face as she approaches Balance Without Fault, holding SD card. When the Grand Elder greets her and asks for her report, she straightens a little bit, shaking off the weariness for a moment.

"Whoo boy…okay. So, on the way to the location you gave me, I called up a contact of mine, got the security layout for the place. Stopped by Katherine's loft and picked up a couple of talens for pack use that might do me well…a Chiropteran Spy and Nightshade. As it turned out, the Spy was useful, the Nightshade not needed.

"Once I got to the location, it was evident that the information I'd gotten from my source panned out. Security cameras, nothing particularly fancy but pretty extensive to prevent people getting in. The lights were more or less out, with the exception of one office across from Mr. "I Want To Believe." Peeking across the Gauntlet showed a few Banes, only one that was anything to speak of. It was creeping around the place, bein' a creeper."

She pauses, there, looking down at the SD card with a bit of a frown before she looks back.

"That office across from the blogger's got someone…less than normal inside of it. It needs to be checked out…I would have done it myself, but I was fairly spent and I figured retrieving the card was more time-critical. Judgment call. I'd be happy to go out with whoever might be sent.

"Anyway, I used the Spy to check the place out; it confirmed that there was something off about the guy. Had it do some guard duty while I checked out the security a bit closer…windows, circuit box, anything like that. Dropped into Silence and Blur of the Milky Eye, then decided to go pipe-climbing to the roof, found an in there that took me into the building. The crawlspace had a dropdown directly into the blogger's office.

"Once I was inside, I did a little bit of checking. There wasn't a hell of a lot I could do with the potentially Wyrm-ridden guy typing away right next door, but I checked phone messages…our boy got a call from the people who sent it, promising that there was more if they wanted it."

She pulls out the scrap of paper with the phone number on it. "This is the number that they left. Sounds like one of those ritzy posh areas. I got into the desk, grabbed the envelope, then came back the way I went."

She shrugs. "Outside of this and whatever our enemies are trying to pass over, there's not a hell of a lot that he has that seems legit. Alternative press bullshit, the usual. He's an idiot who's read too damned much Dylan Dog or some other bullshit comic book. If we take care of the source and strike out the guy in the other office, we should be fine."

She holds up the SD card. "There ya go. I'm sure that can be analyzed or some sort of thing to get some info on who sent it."

[BWF] Anyone can see Sarita is exhausted. And there are watchers now - curious parties drifting by to see what was going on. She can see the Ragabash Guardian in the audience. He raises a hand in a friendly wave as she looks his way.

Then it's Balance Without Fault, it's her report, it's the events of the night laid out and laid bare for inspection.


The Grand Elder listens carefully to every word. He weighs every word for truth, not because he distrusts this particular Ragabash but because that is his job. He listens to her explain her setup, her entry, the office next door, the extraction, the exit. Even more keenly, he listens to her rationale. Her reasons. Why she did what she did. Why she didn't do what she didn't do.

When she's done, Balance holds his hand out for the SD card, turns the small thing over in his hand a few times, then tosses it to the Ragabash Guardian.

"If you were the Ragabash Elder, leader of our scouts," he says, "what would your next move be?"

[Sinclair] There's an unexpected party that's come drifting over to watch the rest of the challenge. Around Sinclair there's a faint smell of ozone, her eyes a bit brighter than usual, like she's high on something, the edges of her body jazzed somehow -- that all may be illusion. No one in Chicago has seen her since she skipped town early one morning to drive to San Diego, but here she is.

Poor Lucille, dropping the phone in the Loft when visible electricity and soundwaves leapt out of the handset and conformed themselves in midair to the shape of the Galliard.

Someone -- maybe Lukas -- asked her why she didn't just call a phone at the Caern. Reason the first: she's not sure anyone would pick up. Reason the second: That just seems wrong, y'know, like... apparating inside Hogwarts or something.

She's not here to stay for more than a matter of hours, she told them through Perun, but she zapped her and drove to the Caern and walked up to this particular challenge circle tonight to stand and watch, observe, remember. Her long hair is down, arms crossed over her shoulders. There's a bright blue streak in that hair now, and a braid to the left side of her face that's got a couple of beads and a feather hanging at the end. Sinclair catches Sarita's eye sometime during her report.

Winks.

[Milo] Among the onlookers come to watch this challenge, there's a relative newcomer in the crowd. He doesn't exactly blend in today, because Maelstrom is a relatively small sept. Even so, Milo keeps out of the way, nondescript in boring dark colors, hands resting in the pockets of his zipped up hoodie.

He didn't come here specifically to watch. Still without a pack, the quiet Gaian pulls his weight anyway, helping out the Theurges that tend the land, and he scouts the area surrounding the Caern, including that notorious construction site.

On his way back through, the commotion at the challenge circle caught his attention. Curiosity tugging him relentlessly, he goes to watch how challenges are handled here. He recognizes Sarita, vaguely, from when he stayed at The Brotherhood before. He remembers she always had a friendly word when they passed each other in the hall.

Shifting around the small collection of onlookers, Milo makes his way a little closer, for a better look. He doesn't wink, should she happen to look his way, but if she does he tips his chin up, mouth quirked in a slight smile.

[Sarita] She doesn't notice Milo show up; she's too damn tired, both mentally and physically, to do so. If she did, he'd get a quick smile and a wink, but alas. She does however feel the pricking of a pack member drawing close, and is surprised, momentarily pausing, when she realizes that it's neither Lukas nor Katherine. In that moment of surprise there are no words over the pack link, just gratitude.

That momentary pause also has her considering her answer. She runs a hand through her hair, fingers clenching to gather it together right at the back of her skull as she purses her lips.

"I'd have that SD card analyzed, see if there's any infosend a pack out to do a fuller assessment and based on that, if they thought they could handle it, as quiet of a removal of the bane if possible. One that's balanced, has a Theurge in it at least for the extra spirit dealing-with mojo. If there're no packs immediately available, a grouping of whoever's available. Give Derek or Izzy a call, have them run the phone number of the guy who called our boy the Frog Broth…err, the ghosthunter. That would give us an address we could stake out, and give us an idea of where we could go from there."

She pauses and points at the SD card in the Guardian's hand. "I'd also have the data on that SD card checked out, see if there's any information on there that helps us identify the source. Might not help, but you never know.

"The one at the office would have to be done really quietly. The guy in the office across from Blogger Boy didn't seem to necessarily be the same kind of nasty as we had shining a light on our dubious affairs, but that doesn't mean the two aren't related. If we already have someone in place staking out the address, then any reaction from the elimination of Typity-Type could betray some sort of information in the Master Plan, so to speak."

She nods. "So yeah. Two-pronged situation, to deal with one—maybe two—possible threats. That's the way I'd go."

[BWF] There's no pause. No deep breath before the plunge. No drumroll before the envelope is opened. As soon as Sarita finishes, Balance speaks the verdict.

"Sarita Echoes-of-Laughter, you have proven yourself a worthy successor to Laughs in the Face of Death."

That's not where it ends. There's no room for celebration yet; no deep breath of relief. No time for that. He continues immediately -- levelly, pitilessly, dissecting each moment of her performance tonight. Point by point. Action by action.

"In the single question you asked of Janis Ian," he says, "you did not attack her, though you could have. You aimed at yourself instead, and that takes courage. It's also a necessity. No Ragabash can hope to question others if they do not question themselves first.

"Too often young Ragabashes forget that their role is not an excuse to be disrespectful, rebellious, or arrogant. A Ragabash does not question because she are always right, and everyone else is always wrong. She questions because that is her duty, and because by doing so, she strengthens the pack, the Sept, and the Nation.

"You did not forget that tonight, Sarita. Well done.

"What you did forget was to listen carefully; to pay attention. And what I said then is still true. A good Ragabash must listen carefully before she speaks. If your job is to find the weakness in any argument, any plan, then you must know the argument and the plan as well as its proposer. Poorly done.

"That said, that test was not wholly fair. But it was never meant to be. I wanted to test your wits and your ears. But even more, I wanted to test how you would respond to a setback. I wanted to see if you would grow sullen or combatative. If you would argue, or sulk.

"You did not. You responded with courage and good humor. With intelligence, and with tenacity. Well done.

"The concern that your sitting the Auspice Council may unbalance things in your pack's favor is a valid one. It is also one that will continue to dog you, I suspect, long after this challenge. You have defended yourself well tonight, but words are words. You will need to defend yourself again and again against this charge. You will have to prove with your actions that you are capable of thinking for yourself. That when you speak with the Ahroun and Philodox elders, you are not blindly following. That when you speak against them, you are not blindly rebelling.

"You have taken one step toward that proof tonight. You rejected my flatly ludicrous demand that you always speak against your pack. I don't think you ever realized my true intentions, and a Ragabash Alpha will have to be sharper than that -- but perhaps that made your trial by fire all the more telling. Even when you thought I, the Grand Elder of the Sept, demanded this of you; even when you must have thought I might fail you for refusing, you refused.

"Politely. Respectfully. But with the same courage and good humor you have shown throughout this challenge. Well done.

"Those were all tests of your social abilities as Ragabash Alpha. But we are a Sept of war, and at war. Your abilities as the scoutmaster will be just as important, if not more so. You will need to rally and direct the Ragabashes -- a task often harder than herding cats. You cannot hope to do that if you do not first prove yourself an adept scout yourself.

"That was the purpose of the final part of this challenge. You were tasked to retrieve a sensitive item. It was an urgent matter, and I was glad to see you wasted no time, and that you were clever and resourceful in your solution to the problem.

"Still, when offered any resource you could gather, you forgot the single most important resource of all: your allies. You could have asked the help of your packmates. Other Ragabashes. Even Broken Glass, the Ragabash who first unearthed this situation. You are a Strider, and perhaps accustomed to working alone -- but you have chosen to join this Sept, and you are challenging to lead its Ragabashes. A good leader doesn't merely dominate; she guides, and shapes, and weaves her followers into a coherent whole.

"Perhaps that, too, is an unfair expectation. After all, you were in the middle of a challenge, and perhaps you thought that you would fail if you did not go alone. Still; this is something you will have to keep in mind from here on out.

"As for the mission itself: you proved yourself a more than capable scout tonight. You accomplished the task I laid before you, as I suspected you might. You retrieved the flashdrive. You even unearthed its source. Well done.

"But as you may have already guessed, that was not the true test. We knew, long before I sent you in, of the man across the office and the bane that follows him about. I withheld this information to see what you, alone in the field with a time-sensitive mission, would do in response. And more importantly, why.

"Had you attacked blindly without concern for your mission, you would have failed. We have no use for a stupid Ragabash Alpha. Had you ignored the situation simply because you were not instructed to take care of it, you would have failed. We have no use for a Ragabash Alpha who cannot think for herself.

"Had you decided the threat was too great not to investigate, and investigate now, you may well have succeeded all the same. But in the end, you decided it was more important to return to the Sept with the stolen data before the workday begins. You decided that your given mission was more time-sensitive, but you did not forget about the snag. You gave your reasons clearly, without attempting to spin it in your favor. You have a clear plan of action for dealing with the additional confounding factor.

"That is completely valid, and shows sound judgment and wisdom on your part. Well done.

"One final detail, then. When you spoke of your next plans, you laid forth intelligent and sound ideas. However, don't forget that your role as the scoutmaster of this Sept requires you to disseminate information to the other Elders; to hear their input; to formulate a cohesive response.

"I trust your judgment and your expertise. I know in an emergency, you will act quickly and with cunning. That is why you have proven worthy of the position you seek. But there is no room for uncertain plans and weak alliances in this Sept. As the old human adage goes, we must stand together or die alone."

At last, a pause. Balance Without Fault rotates his head on his shoulders, cracking his vertebrae. Then, with a ring of formality in his voice:

"Echoes of Laughter, knowing now the full burden of your duties and responsibilities, do you still seek the position of Ragabash Elder of Maelstrom?"

[Sarita] There may not be time for a breath of relief before Balance Without Fault starts assessing, but one is taken just the same. She couldn't have avoided it even if she'd tried. The tension in her shoulders, running down her spine doesn't vanish, but does alleviate somewhat as the pressure of at least a couple details, like "Whoops, lost us the totem, guys" vanishes into the ether.

That moment is purposefully kept short-lived, though. The Grand Elder goes into his assessment, and she listens. She hears the points she did well, and the places where she slipped up. There is a hint of a grin, tired as it is, when the Glass Walker mentions that the datacard was not the true test. Not a 'I'm so cool for realizing,' but an appreciation of the ruse. It's exactly the sort of thing that a No-Moon should appreciate, after all.

Her praises get little nods, maybe a smile here or there when something she wasn't totally sure about—the assertion regarding going against her packmates, or her decision to return instead of learning more about the bane—is detailed. The critiques, the things she could have done better…she listens, and she nods. The idea of going to others in the Sept for aid gets a look on her face—the kind that you would expect someone to get when they knew they had the right answer on Jeopardy! but went for something else instead. But in all she listens, she files away as lessons learned.

Then he straightens. And he asks her if she still seeks the position. And she understands why…after all of this, some people might actually say no, thinking it's too much.

She doesn't say no. She just nods, and speaks four words.

"That I do, Rhya."

…hey, a simple "Yes" would have been too straight-forward. This is Sarita, after all.

[BWF] "Then it is yours."

Balance Without Fault takes a step backward, his heel deliberately breaking through the challenge circle. He turns to the onlookers - raising his voice loud and clear.

"Wolves of the Maelstrom: your Ragabash Elder, Echoes of Laughter."

[Kate] Katherine has approached, toward the end of things. She brushes against her sister who also watches; a hand briefly twitching one of Sinclair's fingertips in a wordless hello before she turns her eyes on the Challenge Circle.

Watchful.
Waiting.

When Balance Without Fault officially names her sister the Ragabash Elder; the Silver Fang's smile is genteel in its pleasure. Ever dignified, that was Katherine. "Well done, Ragabash Elder for Maelstrom." She greets her with the new title, her warmth tinged with a pack-mate's tease.

[Lukas] Lukas did, indeed, want to know why Sinclair hadn't just call someone at the Caern. Sinclair explained it in Harry Potter terms; this led to a conversation in his car, en route from Loft to Caern, about how lame or awesome each of the HP movies were.

"I can't wait for the next one," he confesses, pulling the chainlink fence open to slip through into the bawn,

and out of mortal sight.

--

Later, much later:

Of all the packmates, Wyrmbreaker is the only one tonight who's chosen to take his animal form. It's cold, after all, and he walked out in his pajamas. When that first thrill of mingled excitement and relief comes across the totemlink, the black wolf's ears prick. When the final question is asked, he shifts where he sits, front paws stamping back and forth once or twice.

Then Sarita accepts. And he rises to his feet, ready. When Balance Without Fault breaks the line, the black wolf bounds forward, rears up on his hind legs to plant big muddy paws on Sarita's shoulders. Whuf! he says, closes his teeth lightly and affectionately on his packmate's -- well. Her face. It's a gentle gesture, though, and brief. A moment later he drops down. He circles around his packmates a few times as though to keep them, protect them, ward them, then sits, lolling his tongue out.

In this form, even his thoughts are feral and fragmentary:

Good words. Clever scout! Proud!

[Milo] Milo listens to the Grand Elder's words as he details where Sarita went right and where she went wrong, his eyes on the Strider. Her humor in the face of it all, weary as it is, is a relief to see. That she doesn't sulk or flail about or make excuses for a misstep or a thing overlooked. And also that she doesn't preen when she receives praise.

His mouth quirks when she says those four words. Congratulations will wait for another time, though, maybe when Sarita's had some sleep. Now, her packmates go to her, and the quiet Child of Gaia slips away.

[Sinclair] Perhaps due to the nature of her auspice, Sinclair is silent and steady for the remainder of the challenge after that wink given to Sarita. She flicks Kate's fingertips back, a subtle hello, but otherwise she's watching Balance Without Fault and Echoes of Laughter. She stands by Lukas's lupus form, but she understands the words the Grand Elder and Ragabash use better when she's like this without the urges and instincts of a wolf's body tugging at her.

She'd remember it just as well if she were in lupus. She'd remember it differently, though.

Of all the Unbroken, her reaction is the quietest. The two Adrens move forward to congratulate Sarita, one tidily and one muddily, one with a tease, one with a nomf to the face. Sinclair hangs back a bit, then walks forward. She's taking a breath, letting go the role, hanging onto the challenge for later to write it all down, but as she comes over to her pack she grins. Her hand drops and scritches Lukas's neck and behind his ear affectionately as he circles them -- happily, proudly, protectively.

She gives the Strider a tight, quick hug. "You kicked ass," she tells her while she squeezes her, offhand, as though implying that it's so obvious it goes without saying. Letting her go, she swings around and claps her hands on Kate and Sarita's backs, slings her arms around their shoulders. "Lukas, putcher manface back on. I got til eight a.m. central before I have a phone call to catch back to San Diego, so we're gonna go get wasted. Champagne for Kate, vodka for you, Hpnotiq for me, and...Idaknow, we gotta figure out what the Strider tribal booze is."

[Sarita] When the announcement is made, she finally relaxes, slumping a bit. Katherine greets her by title and a smile; Lukas puts lupine paws on her shoulder and bites her face. They're a varied pack, you see. Sarita almost stumbles at the sudden gesture, laughing a bit. She finally notices Milo, giving him a little nod as he departs just before Sinclair comes up. She's pulled out her cheapo ancient cellphone and sending a text—poorly—when Sinclair comings up and hugs her.

"Thanks, guys." She rubs at her eyes, and smirks at the question of Strider tribal booze.

"I don't know what it is worldwide, I ain't society enough to know what Egyptian booze there is. But here in Chicago, I decree it's freakin' Jimmy Cuervo." She chuckles, the blinks and shakes her head.

"Let's do it." And after a nod of respect to the Grand Elder, she turns to leave with her pack, texting along the way.