Well, this time there's actually some warning. For about three days running, Erich is pretty much constantly chilling in Cold Crescent. Or Forgotten Questions. He talks to everyone he sees, and he tells everyone he talks to:
they need to get together again. Soon. One of the kin, an Eva Illeshazy of the Shadow Lords, YEAH, WASSUP, REPRESENT, has found out something that none of them can ignore.
--
It's a convenient Friday night or something, and it's some hotel suite somewhere that Erich sure as hell didn't put down the money for. The front door stays closed and locked, and Erich stays by the front door to make sure it stays that way. Garou and Kin from both Septs are admitted. No one else is.
When enough people have shown up that it starts to feel like a warmoot, Erich clears his throat and says:
"So, Eva has something say!"
And then he turns expectant eyes on Eva. If anyone actually thought he'd lead this warmoot, they've got another think coming.
Lola
On Day Two of running around, when Erich makes his rounds out to the Sept of Forgotten Questions, he'll encounter Lola Hawkes out in the middle of nowhere in the Bawn. She's riding a dirtbike and, if asked why, she'll explain that Garou get to patrol on four legs, so she has to replace two legs with two wheels sometimes.
Regardless, they shake hands solidly. He'll likely remember her from the last Warmoot. She was that Uktena Kinfolk that talked with swagger like she knew what War was about or something.
He sets a date, and she says she'll be there.
-----
And, of course, she's true to her word. In the little rented hotel suite, no reception hall to be sure but at least it wasn't a room with beds and tables to try and sit on. Lola's in a chair, dressed simply in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. She had, of course, shared the word with the Alpha of Celduin. She'd said that some Kinfolk, the sharp looking woman in her late thirties (or that's how Lola described her at least) had some important news that everyone needed to hear from the source and discuss among themselves.
He was probably there with her. We'll assume that he is at least. And if so, he's probably sitting in the chair beside his Kinswoman.
They chatter, but not noisily. They may socialize here or there with other familiar (or non-familiar) faces that are in nearby chairs or that walk by.
But when attention is called to Eva, Lola quiets and pays careful mind. Whatever news this woman had, it must be worth hearing for all this fuss.
Hector
They ran into each other at Forgotten Questions. Now that Cold Crescent is up and running again nobody has seen much of the Uktena moondancer unless they spend a lot of time south of the city. They saw him at the Moot when he got up and jumped around and told some stories but other than that it's like he and his pack's totem have been spending an awful lot of quality time together.
When Erich found the other Cliath he was coming back from the otherside with his medicine bag full of new talens. Told him Eva the Shadow Lord kinswoman has news and there was to be another warmoot and you're coming right man.
Hector slapped him a high five and said something to the effect of "Hell yeah, brother, warmoots are solid" and then went along on his way.
---
Lola doesn't have to drag him. Well okay he's been rereading The Hobbit when he finds a free ten minutes out of every ten thousand so she might have had to swat him off the front porch but he was just waiting for her and he had a shirt on at least.
He is not near as distracted as he was last time. The Moot has passed and his moon isn't tugging at his internal editor and he greets folks he knows and introduces himself to those he doesn't and when Erich announces the start of things Hector is sat in a chair next to Lola. Unlike last time he isn't staring off into space with his arms tucked in over his ribs. He's got an arm slung across the back of Lola's chair and he's paying attention.
If Tamsin and Jack can't find time in their busy schedules of networking with city Kinfolk and IDK making money or whatever it is they do all day: that's why Gaia invented the totemphone.
Winona
This time, Winona is there, a quiet and (calming, soothing, healing) relatively calm presence with or without her packsisters - it doesn't matter if or how she ran into Erich. Maybe it was Hector, or . . . well, she's a Theurge in a Theurge pack. Maybe spirits whispered in her ear. So anyway, here's this Native American (Native Mexican, really, but who's keeping track?) Silver Fang. If the rest of Desert Oracle isn't there? Winona, too, has ways of relaying what she hears.
Avery
Miss Avery Chase thinks that Mr. Erich Reinhardt is just a splendid young man, all noise and violence and determination. She's passing through Cold Crescent with Javed, who she is seen with at the sept on the regular these days, when he bounds up to her and tells her that a kinswoman of his tribe knows something.
Her attention is at first delighted to see him, inquiring about Charlotte and her general welfare, then curious, then slightly frowning at the evident seriousness. She gives him a nod, tells him she'll be there.
--
And so she is, arriving early, sitting back in an armchair as she did during the first of these impromptu meetings of lower-ranked garou. This time she is drinking tea from a cup, saucer included. She came with a cart of coffee, tea, and cookies, pushed by a member of the hotel staff who was promptly tipped and excused from the gathering, and now she is enjoying a bit of creamed and sugared Earl Grey with some shortbread.
Javed
Javed waits for Avery to greet Erich when the other Ahroun he finds the Silver Fang and himself, and then when he's aware of who is speaking to them gives his Auspicemate a polite hello. He is quiet when Avery asks about Charlotte, though he listens with interest himself on that particular topic; he has fought with the Theurge twice now and she has proven herself quite adept.
But then it is down to business, and he remembers Eva from the previous warmoot, by name at least. He passes a look over to the Philodox and then back, and promises that he will be in attendance.
And indeed, he is. Anubis-Sight looks perhaps out of place in an environment such as this, but then this is hardly the first time that the one-eyed metis has been in surroundings that defy your average person's expectations for where he would be. He is settled in next to Avery, dresses in the single set of clothes that he has and staying quiet for now. His attention turns to Erich when he speaks up, then follows his eyes to Eva, head cocked slightly to listen.
Keisha
It's not difficult for Erich to find Keisha, either. With Cold Crescent opened back up and the obvious tension between the two sides, the Child of Gaia has been spending most of her time where she's not at her classes or working (or bonding/fighting/nearly dying with her packsisters) at one place of the other, carrying on her duties as a Desert Oracle to help tend to the spiritual well-being of both septs. And so he finds her at one spot or the other most likely, in her city-hippy clothes with her city-hippy staff, and she says she will be there, and she passes the word to Phoebe, Winona and Sophia through their bond with Themis as well.
She arrives a bit later than others (she's got a bit of a bad habit about being late sometimes), smiling and nodding to Erich when she slips inside. Without having to look, the cliath ahimsa makes her way over to where Winona is, with a warm smile and a squeeze of the Native Mexican's (Who's keeping track? Keisha's keeping track.) shoulder. And that's where she seats herself--next to Over Sea, Under Stone--with her Iskakku staff settled in next to her.
Sam
It's highly unlikely Sam found out about this meeting from Erich himself, unless they happened to bump into each other somewhere. She steers clear of the Cold Crescent building if at all possible, not really wanting to go near what she feels is a lightning rod for trouble that might affect her or her son. Word travels, though, and prior warning means she's able to find someone to watch over Jake for the night. Of course Thomas and Reese are told about this gathering.
She's there more or less on time, dressed as in jeans and boots and a grey and white and black checked shirt unbuttoned over a red t-shirt for Balance and Composure. Her hair is down, mostly hiding the many piercings and the spike in her ear. Anyone who looks at her would obviously think City Kin, and they would mostly be correct.
She sits somewhere out of the way of the Garou, here more for informational purposes than because she thinks she can contribute anything useful.
Phoebe
Spending time with Phoebe does nothing to help Keisha's punctuality issues. The two (or three if they happened to pick up a Sophia on the way) arrive together and head unerringly to flank their sister already there. One of the wonderful things about that bond with Themis is they can get a quick recap of anything they've missed without bothering anyone else or causing any more of an interruption in the proceedings.
Reese
And, since his sister went to the trouble to tell him and all, Reese is there too - all monochrome shades of gray, and also sitting out of the way of Garou. He's there for the same reasons his sister is, more or less, though the only person he's comfortable with, here, is her. It's a tension, a set of his spine and jaw, in the way he alternates looking at whoever's speaking with looking at his hands in his lap (he cracks his knuckles, watches his hands twist until he forces himself to stop) and looking at Sam next to him.
He, too, looks like (is) city kin - perhaps more so, in some ways, than Sam. But it's not the venue that makes him so uncomfortable, or even the gathered Rage, exactly. It's not nerves or fear, no. This is something different.
Regardless, he's here to listen.
Thomas
Thomas, who is around enough to get notification of the meeting from both Erich and Sam, does attend the war moot. He was invited by a tribemate, concerning the findings of their kin, so this is (even more so than most things that catch his attention here) a family affair.
He slips in and gives basic greetings to people he knows, serious occasions are serious after all, and then leans into a wall a bit out of the way, not terribly far from the two Glasswalker kin. Of all the little assembleges of people, he's really closest to them, but he doesn't (quite) join them either.
Once he's settled, Thomas' eyes watch everyone, not with suspicion but with curiosity. There are only so many chances to observe this kind of interplay, only so many times he will get to see larger pictures of social maps and framework. He'd have to be crazy not to be paying attention.
Tamsin
Tamsin is definitely there. Erich got her. Hey, Erich. Did you know that they're saying I can kick your ass at (random game at 1-Up)? They're saying that so hard. They're saying that because I'm going to make them say that if we don't hang out again. You and Charlotte. Another gathering? Shit going down? I'm fucking there.
And so she is! Erich got her. And Hector did, too, because Tamsin is finally over being offended at a certain off-color joke, so the pack is good again (right?), and maybe it was a message by grace of Fog, or maybe it was delivered-in-the-flesh, somewhere around Forgotten Questions. She's there to make fun of his hair.
And she's there to beam at Avery. Of course she goes over: Hi!! How was - ? And how is - ? And hello! To Javed.
Tamsin is a Fianna and it's nowhere clearer than in the noisy (oh, it'll be noisy, she's a Galliard, she'll make it so) pre-shit-goes-down gathering of like minds. Avery and Javed, then Sam for a hug-from-behind, then mayyybe she sidles up to one of the Theurges ("Winona! Hey!!!") from the Theurge pack in order to say, "Psst, I heard -- "
But time's up, so whatever she heard'll have to be relegated later. By the time business actually gets to be businessed, Tamsin is flopped on her stomach near Hector and Lola (who also gets a hug). Or maybe near Sam. Or maybe she can't stay still. Maybe she's going to be social with everyone or else. Maybe she brought some m&ms, fall-colored, to share.
Sure. They're delicious.
Eva
"Thank you," Éva to Erich, "Mr. Reinhardt." with a brief flicker of dark brown eyes and the barest twinge of a smile. The expression seems genuine enough, though it is wrapped in a quiet, implicit reserve, a careful formality with strangers, and they are all strangers to her. Acquaintances at best and perhaps not even that. Faces she has seem in the halls of 1999 Broadway for a few months or a few years: all young.
All far too young.
It is evening and a weekday and outside dusk is giving way to an autumnal sunset and there is a chill in the air. Inside everything is bathed in carefully plotted curtains of light. Well appointed, well designed, mild and anonymous and inoffensive, with two layers of curtains open over the windows overlooking downtown, and the final layer of sheers still closed, diffusing the view of the city into a pin-pricked, pointillist scheme. The television was on, tuned to the late local news, but as the Garou begin to arrive it is turned off and there is nothing in the background to compete with their discussions, just the hushed and ruminant breath of the heating and cooling system as it cycles on and off again.
--
"When we last met, there was a spirited debate about why the enemy seemed to obsessed with Cold Crescent. What they sought; whether they merely thought to attack the base of the Nation's power in the city proper; whether, perhaps, these attacks were an elaborate series of maneuvers intended to draw strength away from the Caern proper for a final assault on what seemed a more tempting target.
"I can confidently state that all of these theories were wrong. The truth is much simpler and much more elemental.
--
"1999 Broadway was acquired by the Nation in the mid-2000s, some twenty years after its original construction, in the mid 1980s. I will spare you the duller aspects of the transaction, but as you know it was designed to spare the church at its base, constructed around the Holy Ghost Church instead of over the land the church occupied, as was originally intended.
"The architect Curtis Fentress was responsible for the design and development of the property. Which has forty-three stories aboveground and three more hidden levels below ground.
"If you are like me, you have only been to one of the basement levels. Where the graves are found.
"There are two more levels beneath the graves."
Here her eyes flick over the assembled young Garou. Éva does not know whether any of them had been deeper in the bowels of the building, but is perhaps looking for a flicker of recognition, awareness, familiarity, from any who have.
"Mr. Fentress is also responsible for the design and construction of the Denver International Airport. Another location with strange warrens of tunnels beneath it.
"There have long been rumors about the airport." A brief twist of her mouth. It is not a smile. " - which would be easy to dismiss if they were rumors bandied about by humans along. But Sept members have had a number of encounters with reptialian creatures in the tunnels beneath the airport. No source has ever been found - no particular nest - and yet,
"still they come. Crawl up from the bowls of tunnels beneath the concourses and the runways. Even when there are no reports from Sept members, there are small trails that can be found in police reports, the patterns of particularly gruesome crimes. I have heard speculation that the whole of the airport's design may serves the creatures somehow. Attracts them or shelters them or opens a door to wherever it is they come from to whatever it is that they want. Is a ritual, an invocation, a focus of power. Was built not incidentally over a nest or a dark sinkhole, but instead, was built deliberately to pull them into our world, from wherever they may have come."
A deep, quiet inhalation.
"And Mr. Fentress is also responsible for the design and construction of 1999 Broadway. With its own warren of hidden levels tucked away below ground.
"When you look rather more closely at the Sept's location, similar patterns emerge - in crime, in kidnappings, in disappearances. In encounters with things-below in the neighboring carparks and basements and sewers - the truth becomes really quite clear. The Nation acquired 1999 Broadway in the mid-2000s. No one has ever attempted to raise a Caern on the site for the simple reason that whatever would come to such a call is not something that any of us wish to see awoken.
"The Sept is here not out of convenience, not as a celebration of some minor miracle of new-creation in the end of days, but instead: as a chain and a lock meant to keep closed a very dark box."
--
"The Beloved Horror attack 1999 Broadway with absolute, single-minded devotion for a remarkably simple reason: it belonged to them, once.
"Their murderous kind. Their kin, their cubs, their fell spirits and their dark masters. It belonged to all of them, once."
"And they have come to take it back."
Javed
Javed listens when Eva begins speaking, and listens closely. He is still a newcomer to this city, though he is rather integrated at this point. He has a packmate, and he acts as a protector of the city as many of them are in the wake of the loss of Cold Crescent's Guardians. Even without those investments in the location, he would be paying attention because he knows very well as a traveller to many Septs, many locations where the Garou fight the Wyrm in a neverending battle of lost and gained and re-lost territory, who crucially important every piece of information and every inch of ground can be.
He crosses his arms as he sits next to Avery. He focuses on Eva's words, her expression that he won't remember, with his one good eye. There is a little frown when Eva says all the theories are wrong, but not an unexpected one. That was the clearest thing to come out of that discussion last time; that they didn't know why and that any guessing was pure speculation. Javed doesn't buy into speculation. Intelligence is the weapon that helps the Garou strike and intelligence should be based on guesswork as rarely as possible.
He listens to the history, the names, the presence of concerning tunnels underneath the airport and levels below Cold Crescent. A couple of times his attention flicks to Avery, seeing her reaction, and then looks back.
The bombshell has to be dropped, but by then it's already been guessed at. Eva has delivered the clues on her way to getting to the point, but the saying of the words makes the red passion of his blood werm several degrees.
And then he speaks in that gravelly, Iranian-accented but clearly-enunciated tone.
"If I could express such personally to themI would advise them to prepare for disappointment." It's not bravado or mocking, it's no joke. Javed has little use for such things. It's simply a certainty, a statement of finality from the Strider.
"We must get into those lower levels. Clearly they must be secure, as nothing has come up from them, but it must be made certain. And as the leaders of Cold Crescent are becoming rarer..." He probably doesn't need to mention the missing Rite Master; people have probably noticed or heard, even as Forgotten Question's representatives remain. "Things may slip through the cracks, and answers may not be available. Those answers need to be discovered."
Keisha
It all makes sense. Keisha doesn't know why she didn't think of it before...she had noted the strange spiritual convergence and she had . Maybe if she hadn't been so busy in the month following the 43rd Floor incident, or maybe if she hadn't...or if she hadn't...it doesn't matter. The point is that someone came to the conclusion. She doesn't care that it wasn't her; it was someone and that's the important part.
The connection, she vocalizes over their pack link. What Fern told us. Goddess, the green fire...it makes sense.
"The Spiral pack is getting their power from Green Dragon," she says then, rising to speak. "We've spoken with Fern, the cub who we took from them, and that much was made clear. And it all makes sense...the green fire that scoured Cold Crescent that night. We should look closer at the Umbral aspects, the ley line convergence...if there's a connection between the building and the pack that is more than just them reclaiming their own home, there may be something in there that could help us break that link, disrupt the ritual."
Yes, she's terrified at the idea that the Sept is a former haven to the Wyrm. She's a little in shock and there are so many terrible things that are surely coming out of this. But where her mind overwhemls her with the bad and the darkness, it just makes the illumination of a direction for opportunity that much brighter and easier to see.
Hector
As Éva speaks Hector unhooks his arm from behind his kinswoman's chair and leans forward with his elbows on his knees like that is going to help him pay attention. It appears to. He doesn't murmur to those around him or interrupt or stare off into space the entire time she's talking.
To the contrary: he frowns when she speaks of tunnels and frowns deeper when she speaks of this Mr. Fentress designing both the airport and the building where the urban sept sits. Knits his hands together so both index fingers sit before his lips and nose and sits like this just before Éva spells it out for them.
"Son of a bitch..."
Tamsin can already hear his internal monologue running about as fast as his mouth ever does when he gets excited about something potentially dangerous coming down the pike but those without the luxury of hearing him across a totem spirit's connection only have the same dark stolid cast of his eyes and that frown disappearing as he lets go of his dread.
Once Javed and the other Fosterns have had their turns to speak the Uktena clears his throat.
"I don't wanna fight anyone for the honor," he says, unhooking his hands and sitting back in his chair, "but Celduin's gotten pretty good at sneaking around lower levels. If Desert Oracle wants to see what's going on in the Umbra we can check out what the situation is realmside."
Lola
The Uktena Kinswoman was stern-faced and silent while listening to what the Shadow Lord Kinswoman had to say.
Most of them were, when it came down to it. Lola's face was really just another in the crowd.
But her voice was clear and confident, did not quake for the Rage that swirled in the cramped room, and was not meek out of a sense of her station among those that surrounded her.
"If the Caern's lower levels haven't spat any monsters out in a while, then we shouldn't have to worry about checking and making sure that things are locked up down there." Her eyes flicked to Hector, and from him to Javed, but only briefly before continuing about the room as she addressed them as a whole. "Unless, of course, the shit-show that happened reached those lower levels. If that's the case, then by all means.
"Shouldn't we be worried about the airport, though? Who's to say that they wouldn't shift their attention there after we kick their asses off the Spire?
"And what about this Fentress guy? If he's not dead yet, should we dispatch him ourselves?"
Erich
It takes Erich a while to pick his jaw off the ground. Almost figuratively. Like seriously: his mouth is hanging open for a while after Eva's done, proving once and for all that he was no more in the know about what she had to say than anyone else here.
When Javed starts speaking -- with a plan! -- Erich looks at the Strider with gratitude and open enthusiasm. He's nodding vigorously, though: when Celduin's Alpha speaks up about sneaking, the young Ahroun's brow clouds somewhat.
"Not saying you guys aren't good at sneaking, because I believe you are, but I'm not sure if I feel comfortable sending nothing but scouts down into the Diablo-dungeon under the Cold Crescent. I'd feel a lot better if you had some backup. Maybe not right there with you, but at least close enough to come charging in if you trip over a thunderwyrm or something."
And, after Lola puts in her two cents: "We should check out the airport too, eventually. But I think we should deal with one thing at a time. Let's deal with Beloved Horror and the Cold Crescent first."
Javed
Javed listens to Hector speak, then Lola, then Erich. The Galliard is gracious enough to identify his pack and that allows him to place who is speaking, and he nods a little bit when the man volunteers. Lola's words are heard too and even though there is no recognition in that one single good eye (even if they did fight together), he takes her words seriously.
There is a nod at all of Erich's words. "I do not believe that Celduin should go alone. If it is secure then the extra forces cannot hurt. If it is not...they can only help. And I would not suggest something I would not be willing to do myself." A brief glance at Avery at his side, and then he looks back to Hector. "The Falcons would go with you, Echoes of the Lost."
"And while we should investigate the airport and Curtis Fentress, with due respect," his gravelly voice directs to Lola, neither dismissive nor rude. "When it comes to the security of our own territory, should is not secure enough. It is possible that something lurks down there, waiting for the moment to strike. Or perhaps that there is a way into the building that needs to be secured in order to prevent the Wyrm's forces from getting past our defenses; even if nothing is actively there, we must seal up all possible defenses."
"Perhaps another team should look into the architect, see what can be learned."
Lola
"I'll give ya that," Lola relented when Javed said that 'should' wasn't good enough when it came to Sept security.
As for Fentress...
"I can go after this Fentress guy. He could be a Fomor, or a Spiral Kinfolk, but I doubt -- and hopefully I won't eat my words here -- that he's gonna be worth sending a whole pack after."
Reese
"I could go with her," Reese offers - the dirty joiner! - in response to what Lola's said; he doesn't know her, has never met her before, isn't particularly prone to trusting her (or almost anyone else - there are about three people here he knows through every fault of his own, and one he'd taken an immediate liking to, but that's about it), but it doesn't make sense to go something like that alone. Regardless of gender or perceived ability - it's like Erich not wanting a bunch of scouts going it alone to explore the pit under Cold Crescent, except this would be the Glass Walker kin's answer regardless of who was suggesting they go face a possible fomor. "I'm Reese Evans, by the way, Sam's brother. The guy may not be worth sending a whole pack after, but very rarely is some sort of backup a bad idea."
Winona
Winona, meanwhile, is more interested in talk of the doings beneath Cold Crescent. "Having an Ahroun on each side mightn't be the worst of ideas," she says - not in a way that implies fear or uncertainty, but in a pragmatic way that implies she knows each auspice has its skill set, and she knows where hers and her packsisters' lies.
Thomas
Thomas watches for a moment, attention resting largely on Erich, Hector and Javed. It isn't that he isn't listening, or even looking at other people when they speak, but he's watching for reactions as much as any overt instructions or questions. Only Reese, when he offers to join Lola, gets his complete attention for a full six or seven seconds.
And then he returns his attention to Erich, who by virtue of calling this meeting gets to be the person he addresses first, but then his focus broadens to include Javed and Hector. "I'll go where you need me. Tell me where it is, and I'll be there."
Phoebe
Erich isn't the only one left with his jaw hanging. That revelation takes the Alpha of Desert Oracle completely by surprise. There aren't many in thia room who've been in Denver longer than Phoebe Stavros (probably that honor (?) belongs solely to the Shadow Lord knswoman who dropped that bomb. When all is said and done, it's not that big of a surprise this had been kept from her family. They are loyal to Forgotten Questions first and forever, with only their youngest Garou offering to help from time to time.
Others are speaking, though, in the time ot takes Phoebe to recover. Plans are suggested. Someone wants to go scouting around to see what the previous tenants of this spot left locked up in the deep basement storage.
"Desert Oracle will be glad to offer whatever assistance we can, to heal scouts or discover what secrets the Umbra holds down there."
Eva
"Forgive me," an interruption, from the Shadow Lord kinswoman. Éva stands as she speaks and is looking directly at Javed, though never precisely into his eyes. It is clear from the mood of the room and the manner in which the other Garou both look to him and take his lead that he has some rank greater than the others. Who are mostly strangers, most of whom are closer in age to her children than to Éva herself.
She has no rank. No basis from which to interrupt and yes, disagree, with the loose plans coalescing around the kernel of an idea put forth by the Silent Strider. And yet,
"But I don't believe that exploring the lowest levels is the wisest course. Whatever is down there is what they seek. Whatever is down there - warded and chained and locked down there - had power enough to invade and control the minds of the Guardians. Had power enough to send toxic flames shooting up the elevator shaft into the Sept proper.
"None of you - none of us - have been strong enough to stand against the least of them. They are stronger than any other Garou. Even ranked and known and named and deeded Garou. Something fuels that strength, and if that something is as it is, locked away, warded perhaps, in the basements of 1999 Broadway, you might well be doing their work for them if you open those locks and slip in those doors. Because you do not know what will ride your skin in the aftermath, and follow you out.
"If you make it out."
--
She breathes in deeply; cuts a slanting glance that takes in the pale shadow of her hand against the table at which she was seated, before which she now stands. Exhales slowly, picks up a glass of water, and takes a sip.
Sets it down again, just so precisely on the faux wood veneer.
--
"Instead, ask yourselves: what fuels that power, and how do you disrupt whatever ritual or rite it is that gives them - such access to this spirit, this strength. What has changed from then to now, to make them stronger.
"Perhaps Fentress is the key," a spare, dark-eyed glance at Lola. " - but, merely removing the key from the lock sometimes destroys the lock. For now, he is our only clear lead. Our only link, and a living link is often stronger than dead one. If you want to scout, scout his offices. Steal his files; his e-mail, his correspondence. His financial records. His trash. His grocery receipts. His datebook. The plans and permits and filings for his upcoming projects. Follow him.
"What contact does he have with them? Are there leads in any of those records that can take us back to the Beloved Horror? Some den, some base, some seat of power for which he is even partially responsible? Or is there perhaps, some new pit he is excavating that will strengthen them further? Something we can disrupt, stop, end before it is completed?
"Then, certainly the airport and 1999 Broadway and not the only sites Mr. Fentress has designed and built in the city. Perhaps there are others. Perhaps each new one strengthens the old. Like spokes in a wheel. And if you find some way to start tearing them out, the structure itself will collapse.
"That, at least, is my advice."
And then, Éva cedes the floor to someone else.
Lola
The Shadow Lord Kinswoman had some good points -- and when she spoke on whatever was down in the lower levels of Cold Crescent Lola's expressive eyebrows hiked up on her forehead, and her gaze found the side of Hector's face for half of a second, watching to see how he processed this suggestion. She'd look to Javed as well, of course, and from him to Phoebe, to Erich, to Reese, to all others gathered in that room.
Reese had volunteered to come along with, smiled and stated that he was Sam's brother. Lola seemed to puff up some, like she didn't care for the idea of a partner, and she didn't smile back in return if that polite expression was turned her way. If they made eye contact her chin would jerk up, just a little, almost as though in challenge. Yeah?, it would say, Who the fuck is Sam anyway?
But at least the Shadow Lord Kinswoman who was running this affair agreed that Fentress would be important. However, she didn't think that he ought to be killed. She figured that he should be scouted instead-- his information dug through, files searched, emails read... The Uktena drummed her fingertips on the knee of her jeans and scowled.
"Fine. We don't kill him yet. But I think we should detain him, at least. Interrogate him for what he knows. Hold him, keep him from fuckin' around with anything. What if he's actually smart enough to figure out when someone's been poking through his shit, 'eh? What if he can release a torrent of bullshit from the Airport catacombs? The city'd go to a mess, and we'd have to either let it or we'd have to leave Cold Crescent exposed again while we're trying to clean it up. Or, alternately, shift manpower away from Forgotten Questions, and then we're leaving the real Caern exposed.
"We keep him still, keep him from dicking around and changing or releasing anything. And we can dig through his data then, instead of letting the guy roam about free to continue his dirty work while we snoop and hope we don't get caught."
Reese
"If it's in his emails," Reese says with a smirk at that expression, that chip on a kinswoman's shoulder - it's not foreign to him, no, or even completely unexpected - but that confident aura around him doesn't falter as he jerks a thumb between himself and Sam next to him, "we can find it. And if it's on his hard drive, the only thing that makes it harder to get is having to retrieve the physical thing. I'm not a shoot first kind of guy. Nor am I an interrogator. I'll leave that to someone who wants to do that kind of damage."
He's not a shoot first kind of guy unless he's being paid for the job, but it's been a long time since that was his gig. Same with interrogation.
Keisha
Keisha has been listening since she spoke up and suggested that the ley lines and other aspects be looked at to determine how to break the ritual, and she nods a little at Eva's words. "I agree with that," she says, rising again. "The ritual is the source of their strength; it seems to pretty clearly be the thing that has been giving them their strength. It ties them to Dragon and it obviously doesn't seem to be just in the manner of a pack bound to a totem. We've been looking at ways to figure out its source and what can be done to break the connection."
She looks to her packsisters, then back around. "We just got done talking to Fern and I think we got some information to go off of. I'm sure we would be happy for any additional help or insight."
She turns her attention back to Eva. "When you were doing research, did you happen to get full blueprints for either here or the airport? I'd like to take a look at them if we have them, do some research and see if there are any clues in the way everything was laid out."
Phoebe
Phoebe waits for the others to speak, for Keisha to have her question answered, before she speaks again. It's taken that long for her to fully wrap her mind around the things the kinswoman of Thunder has said. The Sept of the Cold Crescent is not the place that holds Phoebe's stronger allegiance, but she's helped out from time to time over the years. She and her pack and the rest of the Theurges of the city ran themselves ragged after the events on the top level as they tried to calm and quell and satisfy the spirits.
She knew Champion of Honor, even liked him, and anyone who met him and says they didn't is a liar.
She has lived on the south side of Denver for all of her life. Her family has been here for a few generations. The Stavroses are known by nearly everyone who has lived here for any length of time, by name at least if not closely.
The revelation that the city sept's building was constructed above a place of the Wyrm is quite the shock, particularly for a Theurge. Her response before was no less true for all that it was automatic.
But she processes that shock, and when there is a lull she says in to that brief quiet, "There's a simpler solution, and that's asking the Warder himself. He's still there, he would know, and with all the others allegedly involved being dealt with by Forgotten Questions, it's possible he won't be as resistant to questions as before. Or," she says, her mouth taking on a wry quirk, "he'll be more resistant. But I'd rather face an angry Warder than go wandering around where the Wyrm once and may still dwell and risk stumbling across an incarna of the Dragon itself." Especially her with her unique draw to the spirits.
Javed
The Strider turns his attention to Eva when she speaks up, that one good eye focusing fully on her while the other one...well, does what completely clouded-over eyes do and sits there uselessly. His arms are crossed over his chest as he sits there next to his packmate, taking in the Shadow Lord kin's words with a calm expression that is, perhaps, surprisingly discerning when you consider the impediments to his senses. He turns his head to Avery a moment when Eva stops and takes a sip of her water, perhaps finding a level of solidarity in setting eyes on his packmate who, while he recognizes her face no less than anyone else in the room, he feels a recognition deeper than any that visual acuity can bring. It's the connection of pack.
He is quiet, considering Eva's words when Keisha speaks up and Phoebe after. Once the Fury is done, his voice rumbles to life again.
"Asking Warning Threshold-rhya would be a wise choice. The leaders of Cold Crescent have not been forthcoming, and perhaps considering the context of what Miss Illeshazy has brought to our attention, there is a level of that which could be understood."
He does not say condoned, but neither is his considerable rage spiked; it emanates at the same level, years of careful control and his ingrained sense of honor and duty keeping it in check as he looks around. His tone is without judgment because it is not his place to judge his superiors; he is no Philodox, but an Ahroun, and his thoughts run entirely to the tactical. "My point is that they have not been dishonest, and with this new information presented it may be time for us to get an answer. As the duty falls more upon us to maintain order and responsibilities at Cold Crescent, that does include security and there is not a scenario in which awareness of what may or may not lie beneath the Sept is not a security matter."
He turns his singular gaze to Eva again. "You are correct that there is risk in securing the underground levels, Miss Illeshazy. This is a risk that can, with hope, be minimized if we do ask Warning Threshold-rhya and he is forthcoming. However, I would dispute some of your conclusions regarding the Guardians. If whatever is down there--be it Dragon or something else--was simply able to invade our minds or those of the Guardians, it would have done so well before now. It was only after Champion of Honor was abducted and something was done to him to turn him into a Trojan Horse, presumably by the Beloved Horror, that he became open to something. That something may have been what is in the basement, or it may have been something which was already implanted in him during his abduction.
"I agree that care should be taken," he adds. "We should certainly not send a large group down; this would be a reconnaisance mission, not a mission to search and destroy. If we take care and if--Gaia willing--we learn some semblance of the protections, bindings and whatever else may in place so that we do not set them off, then it should be done."
He gestures to Reese and Lola then. "And of course we may also look into Fentress, as well. And the ritual, and other aspects. We are many Garou, many kinfolk, more than one pack. And I do not believe that this is a situation that merits just a single approach"
Avery
As at the previous warmoot, Miss Avery Chase is quiet for the vast majority of the discussion. She sips her tea, occasionally dunking a bit of shortbread into the Earl Grey before taking small, tidy bites. Like the other Silver Fang in the room, she all but gleams. It isn't just the strength of her purity, it's the quality of it; the Silver Fangs do have something, don't they? Something bright and effervescent, as though they come closer than any other creature, even among their own kind, to some Platonic ideal of savage royalty. She is impossible to completely ignore, even in her silence.
Javed sits on the arm of the heavy, soft armchair Avery commandeered for herself, his form held higher than her own, his rank higher than her own, but there is a sense of at least some equality between the two of them. She holds her tongue while he speaks; he casts glances to gauge her reactions to things. Noticably, there's no point when one or the other's eyes go far away, vaguely unfocused, the subtle but telltale sign that packmates are speaking to one another through their totem spirit's voice.
Even when, as Eva tells them that 1999 Broadway has 2 hidden levels,
that there may be some kind of attraction or gateway there to utter horrors,
that the Beloved Horror wants it back,
Avery's teacup rattles slightly, china against china, as she sets it back down on the saucer. Her eyes are not widened, but are unblinking, focused intently on the Shadow Lord kinswoman. Avery has gone very still, very silent, and this is the reaction that Javed catches on her face when he looks at her. The tenor of his voice, low and firm, seems to calm her a bit, as she turns to set the cup and saucer on the end table beside her, dusting crumbs from her fingertips with a small napkin. She breathes deeply but silently.
And, as this is a warmoot, ideas and plans and questions begin instantly: getting to the lower levels, the rituals that the Beloved Horror is known for, getting backup for sneaking around the lower levels. Javed volunteers the two of them to go with Celduin as well, and Avery merely nods. There's a small frown that passes over her face as Lola and Eva talk about the architect, the airport, and avoiding the lower levels, but it does, in fact, pass. She turns to look up at Javed, who (as he does frequently enough to have made her want to pack with him almost immediately upon meeting him) speaks with both boldness and clarity. For the first time since her round of greetings to various friends and respected allies in the room, Avery wears a small smile. She speaks up for the first time as well, addressing the room and not a specific person within it:
"If I may." Of course she may. The calm in her voice twines with the gravity of it, a sound that feels like a gentle, heavy hand on one's shoulder, giving the sense of solidarity that goes beyond whatever words fill the space of that sound. It is compelling, and it is also strangely comforting.
"It is possible that the architect is unaware of what he has wrought." She doesn't ask them if they think this is possible. She doesn't say 'might'. She does not say this as a musing-aloud; she says it as a reminder. And before there is room to insist that he must know what he's building: "As I sincerely believe Champion of Honor-yuf,"
for he was yuf to her, after his death,
"was unaware of what he did. As I trust the Guardians were unaware of what they were doing. There were other influences, powerful ones, beyond their knowledge or control, and even our own kind have rites and gifts to compel action from both mind and body, enemy or friend."
She leans back in her chair a bit. "I recommend that any investigation into the architect begins with confirming or discounting such influences as they may be acting on him. Doing so may provide alternate avenues besides espionage, kidnapping, interrogation, and assassination, all of which hold the risk of reprisal not just from the architect but any mortal or supernatural allies he may have."
Erich
"Yeah I still think we should focus on Cold Crescent first." On the tail end of Avery's ever-so-well-spoken words, Erich's considerably more casual dialogue sounds downright crass. "I mean the airport: that's like, really far away. And meanwhile we have a bona fide Diablo dungeon under our own building. Plus I'm thinking maybe there was a reason the Sept was put here instead of at the airport. I mean it's a lock, right? If you only had one lock for two cages, you'd put it on the one with the more dangerous beast, right?
"Also, architect dude: I'm not sure how I feel about just tracking some random guy down and executing him. We're not monsters. Well okay, I guess we are, but you know what I mean. We don't have to be monster-monsters. I guess what I'm saying is: if you guys wanna go digging around on info, I think that's awesome. But if we're gonna act on something -- and I think we should start acting even if we don't have all the info yet -- we should act on Cold Crescent first.
"But yeah," wrapping it up now, "maybe we should ask the Warder one last time. See if he'll open up. I think you guys," he nods at Javed and Avery, "should talk to him. Maybe with Eva. 'Cause you guys seem the most ... um, grown up."
Lola
Lola's expression becomes a little more scowly as Avery expresses her point that the architect might not be a knowing player in the whole thing, and that causing him harm and harassment could yield consequences not worth the lack of information they would find through that route.
She had to admit, the Silver Fang had a point.
So, with only the tiniest chip on her shoulder, Lola acknowledged: "That's fair enough. Alright, we'll stick back, poke around and see what we find. If there's any solid evidence that he is In The Know, we'll report back to you all. See what everyone thinks before we take any action."
She didn't say this so much like she was making a suggestion as much as it seemed she was finalizing a plan. She turned her attention to Reese, looked him square in the eyes, and tilted one eyebrow just a bit higher than the other.
"We'll trade numbers at the end of the night, yeah? Arrange plans on how to do this sometime in the next few days."
Phoebe
Plans become set, things are winding down, and it becomes obvious this moot of sorts is coming to and end. Phoebe has offered the assistance of herself and of her pack wherever they might ne needed - it's what they do, they're a pack for support. She's preparing for departure mentally if not physically when Erich suggests a cliath, a kinswoman, and another fostern be the ones to approach the Warder and she's fine with the choice. Though they've rarely if ever spoken, she knows of Eva and respects her. The Philodox led the Cracking before last admirably, and she's heard good things about Avery besides. And she has spoken with Javed and knows him to be be a Garou of great honor and strength.
But Erich says his reasoning is that these three are the most grownup, and the Fury speaks up again.
"Excuse me," she says a bit crisply, though it's not as sharp as it could be, "but what exactly do you mean by that?"
Eva
"Ms." The Shadow Lord corrects Javed thoughtlessly. There is no evident sense of grievance in her tone, but neither is the correction leavened by even the smallest feminine smile of apology. Her attention is brief and steady, with a certain wry light in her eyes that does not track to her mouth. Listen, she wears her years in the lines around like commas around her crisp mouth. Framing her dark eyes, etched between her rather expressive brows. Whether or not she wears a ring on the ring finger of her left hand - none is evident now, but on occasion she sports one that looks like a wedding band - humans never mistake a woman like her for a Miss anything.
All too often they default to Missus.
Don't worry. She corrects them too.
--
A brief and sharp breath in when Keisha speaks up, makes clear that - oh yes - the murders themselves, elaborated as they are, are the ritual. "I do not know," to Keisha, when it is her turn again to speak, " - whether we have complete blueprints or either site. In any case, I would not trust those available through the public record, given what we now know. I will make what I have available to you, though.
"And," a brief and wintry smile, "I would expect the Warder to have the most complete blueprints of 1999 Broadway. He requires assistance on all fronts now, I believe. He can hardly turn down your requests." A beat. "Our requests. I would suggest that one of the representatives to the meeting with the Warder be a crescent moon. And that the reconnaissance team include a competent spiritualist as well. Given recent events, and the discoveries we have made, I find the spiritual dangers more troubling than potential physical dangers beneath the Sept."
It is, after all, one thing to die.
And another thing altogether, to be possessed by a force powerful enough to -
--
"Perhaps," to Lola and Reese, " - the common thread is not the architect himself in any case. Some underling; some design associate. Some contractor. Some contact. Some common thread between the projects. We'll review the police data to see if there are similar threads of crime and disappearances in and around any of his more recent projects. Try not to get arrested.
"But if you do, tell them you want to speak to your lawyer, and call my office. My practice is criminal defense. If there is a way to get you off - " - or sacrifice you on the bureaucratic altar of someone-has-to-pay and for-the-greater-good - "I will."
Javed
The difference between Miss and Ms. is completely lost on Javed and he in fact does not notice that Eva has said anything different than what he did. He is an extremely well-spoken man for his circumstances; born metis and overseas, learning the language by his own study and experience--but some things things he misses, and he frowns a moment in confusion before simply nodding out of propriety, conceding the point and making a note to ask Avery what exactly was meant there in that little correction. His etiquette is good, but not yet perfect. He will appreciate the opportunity to correct himself.
"Indeed, that was my full intent," he says in response to her point of having a Theurge come with. "Your suggestion is noted and appreciated." And with that he turns his attention and singular gaze to Phoebe and Erich, waiting for their situation to resolve before broaching the topic.
Keisha
Keisha, for her part, nods a little bit gratefully to Eva for the answer. "That was my next guess. Thanks, Eva." And with that she falls silent. It's not difficult to see that her mind is already working a hundred miles an hour running through possibilities of what they might find, shifting and permuting them and trying to imagine what might come into play and what answers may be discovered.
As she does, she settles an idle hand on her alpha's shoulder. It's not exactly an attempt to defuse the situation, though it may be a calming influence. More than anything though, it's a moment of support.
Erich
"Er," Erich looks mildly taken aback, "I mean when they open their mouths they don't sound like dumbasses? Not that you do necessarily. I haven't heard enough to decide. But they definitely sound smart."
Hector
Before Erich can say the S word Hector jumps in - about as fast as he jumped in when Erich was goading a drunk Beloved Horrorite, for the historians in the room, but with about 98% less chance of being slammed through a table for his trouble.
"ELOQUENT. They're definitely eloquent. The vastness of their vocabularies strikes awe into the hearts of those who hear them speak." A beat. "My vocabulary sucks. I'm sticking with dungeon-crawling detail, if it comes to that."
Avery
Erich address Avery along with Javed and Eva, saying they should talk to the Warder -- a suggestion she will gladly take on -- because they seem the most grown up. That bewilders her a bit, but she doesn't question it. It's Phoebe's reaction to it that raises her eyebrows slightly.
Avery's eyes flick from the Black Fury across the room to the Silent Strider beside her, then back again. The alpha of the Oracles is older by a few years than she is, and the metis who is unspokenly but obviously the alpha of the Falcons is likely younger than both of them by far in simple counting of years, but that's not what seeming grown up is about.
At first she has no intention of mentioning anything, even though it is a comment about she, her packmate, and a kinswoman that is causing the kerfuffle, but when Erich tries to remedy it and then Hector cuts him off, Avery lifts her chin and addresses the room in the same clear, level tone she usually uses. The thread running through it is not tension or even firmness but suggestion. It is a request. Frankly, she speaks up because she is embarrassed. It's distinctly uncomfortable -- at least to someone of Avery's temperament -- to watch one garou get irritated because another garou said something positive about her. A third garou jumping in to try and smooth things over only seems to amplify that sense of embarrassment on Avery's part. Still:
level. Clear. Calm.
"Though compliments to my and my packmate's supposed maturity and extensive vocabularies are certainly flattering," she murmurs, "perhaps we could refocus on establishing the action plan, and privately discuss any intended or perceived insult to others present when we have formally concluded?"
Phoebe
It's unfortunate the Galliard doesn't jump in before the Cliath Ahroun gets out dumbasses. At least he's talking to a Theurge, and more specifically this one. Phoebe doesn't bristle with offense, she doesn't fly out of her chair and start yelling. And certainly she doesn't look irritated, merely baffled.
She tilts her head from one side to the other, her focus sharpening on Erich. Her brows lift when he clarifies to her, all Oh is that so? She does not look irritated or irate. If anything, she looks on the brink of laughter. Almost, but not quite.
"Thanks," comes first, and she finally draws her attention away to look at Hector. She knows or can guess the word he smothered before it could worsen this situation further. It could very well end with for trying.
Because the damage is already done. But, Phoebe has no intention of dressing down a smart but thoughtless Cliath in a room full of his peers. She blinks at Avery. "I was under the impression the action plan was more or less established. The Kinfolk will look into the architect. Javed, Ms. Illeshazy, and yourself will go speak with the Warder." Her gaze shifts to Javed then, the unspoken but obvious Alpha of The Falcons. "As this matter may have a spiritual aspect, as the ranking Theurge here I would like to go with you when you speak to him."
Winona
Winona, meanwhile, that young woman who managed to pull down better than a four point GPA and graduate with a bachelor's at the top of her class in the midst of her first change and rite of passage and so much more, actually does laugh when Erich says that these other people she doesn't really know but has seen around sound so much smarter than she (or her Alpha, or anyone else in the room), leaving the rest of them looking like comparative dumbasses. "I didn't know a good vocabulary was what greased the wheels these days." She is a bit offended, to be honest, not that it shows - or that she won't get over it quickly. Whatever!
Reese
Reese gives Lola a nod, and already has his phone in hand for when this never-ending meeting-moot is over, and he, too, is amused (and bemused, for that matter, because how would Erich know, and what strength is there in making that sort of cognitive leap without even talking to at least a third of the people in the room?) at the kid over there assuming everyone but his buddies would sound stupid in front of the Warder. But that's no job he envies, so whatever - let the people who want it work it out.
"Yeah," is his answer for Lola, and maybe Eva too. "Numbers. Don't wear blinders in an investigation, be open to other possibilities than the expected outcome. Got it."
Erich
"Oh my god," Erich exclaims, clearly not too proud to let his exasperation show, "seriously? We're raging death machines discussing a cesspool under our home base. You're all going to get derailed about who I think is going to make us look good to the Warder so he'll actually tell us about the cesspool under our home base?
"GIRLS, YOU'RE ALL PRETTY."
Beat.
"Also, like I said earlier, I'll tag along if we actually dungeon crawl." He elbows Charlotte. "You coming?"
Phoebe
"No," says Phoebe, and she does not sound exasperated, only weary. "We've been derailed by the lack of respect you've chosen to show the people in this room, a disrespect you seem oddly stubborn about worsening."
Then she pauses, shakes her head and rises. "What am I saying, we're not even derailed. Anubis Sight-yuf, if there is nothing else?"
Javed
As always, the Strider maintains his calm, that civility that has been learned by discipline and a constant desire--or even need--to better himself from how he was brought into the world and the first few months of his life. He stays quiet and even dispassionate as the disagreement ebs and flows for a few moments, watching save for a brief glance over to Avery when she looks his way, and then when she speaks. He doesn't acknowledge Avery's discomfort, though clearly he sees it. To acknowledge it would be to give it legitimacy and even likely make it worse, something he clearly does not wish.
Phoebe says that she would like to come with and he gives a nod of approval. There is a little twitch at the corner of his eye when the dissention continues after that point, a downward tug of his lips into something...disapproving. Finally, when it seems to have died down--hopefully--he speaks up once more with his ever-gruff and stoic baritone.
"Unless anyone has anything more regarding the matters we came here to discuss, Ms. Illeshazy..." He still doesn't quite get the Ms. right, it sounds like a conglomeration of the two honorifics, "...now may be an appropriate time to close the proceedings?"
It is asked as a question, not said as a declaration. Eva was the person who brought them together and it was, essentially, her warmoot by proxy of Erich. "Reverence of Dawn, Siren of Persephone, Ms. Illeshazy and I will go to speak with Warning Threshold-rhya. Mister Evans and Miss Hawkes will attempt to locate Mister Fentress and, based upon what we do or do not learn from Warning Threshold-rhya, a plan will be formulated to secure down below, and perhaps information will be secured so that the Desert Oracles may look into the ritual and spiritual aspects."
The plan summed up there, he looks to Eva to call a close to the meeting.
Erich
Erich's jaw clenches. His rage is high, his nerves are frayed, and halfway through Phoebe's retort he can't hold it in anymore. Surges to his feet and flat-out bellows:
"SHUT UP, CRYBABY."
Nostrils flare on an audible inhale. "NOW I'm disrespecting you. NOW I'm calling you immature. See the difference? All I said at the get-go was that Javed, Avery and Eva seem the most like grownups. That doesn't mean you're not a grownup. That doesn't mean they're better than you are. That just means I think they'll represent us better than anyone else here. Right now, you are proving my goddamn point because they're being calm and mature and goal-oriented, and you're reading the worst possible meaning into what you heard and wallowing in the butthurt.
"Get over it. If you can't get over it, bring it to the moot and I'll pick that bone clean with you. But for now, as the guy who threw this goddamn party, I'm telling you to move on so we can all move on."
Phoebe
SHUT UP, CRYBABY.
Erich surges to his feet to seethe at Phoebe, who gathers herself to her full height, the weight of her rank as a Fostern and an Alpha, as well as her breeding and her will brought to bear.
"THAT IS ENOUGH!" cracks through the room like a whip. There is a beat where she fixes him with a stony glare, which is oddly not out of place on the usually laid back, happy-go-lucky Theurge. She doesn't give him a chance to continue.
"You have insulted my packmates, my friends, and their Kinfolk for long enough, Storm's Teeth. I thought you spoke thoughtlessly and drew your attention to your words in the hope that you would find wisdom and apologize to your peers. Instead, you have chosen to show again and again the complete lack of respect you hold for anyone who isn't in your small friend group. I was prepared to let it go at that and accept that you are another young Ahroun with a big mouth and not enough sense to keep it in check. If you apologize now, I still will be.
"So what will it be, Storm's Teeth? Will you find a saving grace, or do I need to take this matter to the septs?"
==
niko @ 12:56PM
[charisma+leadership+PB, spending a WP because if the dice are jerks this will be too embarrassing]
Roll: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 4 ) [WP] VALID
Samael @ 12:57PM
[[Witnessed!]]
Keisha
Keisha has been sitting quietly through all of this; she doesn't comment like Winona though the heightening tension makes her distinctly uncomfortable. That hand has stayed on Phoebe's shoulder throughout, hoping to be a calming influence. How much it helped may be up for debate, but she tried.
She bristles visibly when Erich bellows at the Black Fury sitting next to her, hand gripping her Iskakku staff tightly. She throws a glance at her Alpha and then Phoebe is rising, the Child of Gaia's hand slipping off her shoulder because the ahimsa, for her part, remains sitting. Adding another person into this mix would only make things worse and she realizes that. She listens to Phoebe's words and then darts her eyes around to where the kinfolk in the room may be for reference's sake (just in case, not that she thinks it'll come to that), then finally back toward the Ahroun, watching him closely. It's clear which side she stands on though. Her physical proximity to Phoebe spells it out.
Javed
Though Still Waters does not rise, Javed does. His Rage flares a little, seething forth a bit from its already-considerable levels as he slips off the arm of the couch and draws up. He is not mediating; he is not a Philodox and that is not his place. Avery is the ranking (and indeed, the sole) Philodox here though he does not entreat her to intervene. If Erich heeds Phoebe's demand or if he doesn't, that isn't Javed's concern because he has no dog (pun not intended) in this fight. He waits until Phoebe is done before he speaks up (unless Erich tries to cut her off after she did likewise to him; then he cuts in to keep it from going further).
"However this is handled," he says, and for once it is not tinged with politeness. It isn't rude, but it is blunt and short. He's getting right to the point of the matter. "Handle this now, this moment. This has gone too far. Perceived insults, unintended ones, direct and intended ones. Whatever the matter, resolve it or plan to take it up later and we can move on."
Samael @ 2:04PM
[[Cha+Lead+PB w/WP too!]]
Roll: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 7, 7, 7, 9) ( success x 5 ) [WP] VALID
niko @ 2:05PM
[witnessed!]
Charlotte
Charlotte is there. She has been all along. She has been very very quiet and at Erich's side all along, quiet little mouse of a silver-sheened monster. Strange and frail-looking and awkward, sharp elbows and nobbly knees and also,
Falcon-blessed, moon-mad, bird-boned, strangely lovely. She is sitting beside Erich or maybe standing, leaning back against a counter, weight braced on her palms. There is a slightly faded bracelet around her left wrist, made of woven thread, and a platinum chain around her throat with a pendant of some sort that disappears beneath the dark collar of her yellow-and-green Sprite! t-shirt. A weathered messenger bag slung across her boyish body, the bulk of it born against her left hip.
She is nineteen; looks younger unless you catch her from the proper angle, and then she seems older than time itself.
So, she doesn't have much to say. Is quiet and serious and starts to frown a bit when things spark and flare, when Erich's temper catches and starts - but then it passes. He elbows her, is she coming?
"'Course," the girl murmurs back to him, quiet and solemn and a bit indignant that there was any sort of question that she would be anywhere other than where he is. Except, she tells him quietly and with an excess of that same mild solemnity, " - but you know running would be faster than crawling - "
Then he's surging to his feet. Charlotte is surging with him. Packmates, see - even without a totem something physical and animal in the girl senses the bunching, explosive potential in his flanks, in his spine. But her presence is a taut, staying sort of thing. The bright, pale disc of her luminous eyes flashes to the older theurge. Charlotte looks half-bird, half-beast. Trapped between a sort of reactive sort of panic and something else, mad yes - but deeper, regal, unburdened and unbound.
Her posture shifts; so do her eyes. That glance at Phoebe flashes and fades like the flare of a signal fire against the horizon. Then her eyes are entirely on Erich's profile. She nudges his side, an animal presence, calmer than he, as if she could drink down his rage and lash it and leash it against him. Stays a half-step behind him. Telling him, quietly:
dontexplodedon'texplodedontexplode
(something so taut in her shoulders)
but also,
thisisachallenge and notthesortyouthinkitis;
iknowwhoyouare;
i'mrightherebesideyou;
don'tbackdown.
don'texplode.
Eva
Meanwhile, Javed invites Éva to close the meeting. The briefest flash of surprise in the sweep of her eyes over his features. Minute and not-precisely-calculated, but listen. She allows it to show through. It surfaces in a twist of her mouth, then disappears beneath the surface as she rises a fractional second later,
only for the mood of the room to shift, quite thoroughly, a moment later. The Shadow Lord's jaw tightens. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She remains standing, still, wary and aware of them both, her spine absolutely straight as her dark eyes cut from Erich to Phoebe and back again. Touching not on their faces but their shoulders, their flanks, their body language. Her pulse is pounding, elevated and she thinks of the weight of the weapon against her ribs. So absurd that her mind goes to it.
Because these beasts, oh,
she knows how they move.
Erich
Erich likes ice cream.
He likes building things with his hands. He likes driving long distances, he likes having his den pulled along behind him wherever he goes. He likes -- no, he loves his pack, mad-wise-frail-raptor Charlotte and brave-vibrant-bold-wounded Melantha. He loves his sister, he loved his parents, and somewhere in his heart of hearts he probably hopes one day he can go home again. He is a young wolf, not without his own deep scars, but for the most part he is affable. He has a good nature not entirely abused out of him yet. He would rather play than fight, but he has never yet backed down from a cause he thinks is just.
Erich is also, in his own words: a raging death machine. His affability and his good nature and his playfulness and his youth are the thin, thin chains on a bottomless well of violence that is always,
always,
so close to the surface.
--
Shouted at in turn, red rage flickers and catches in Erich's eyes. It is Charlotte's sudden, stabilizing, bolstering presence at his side that keeps him in check. Keeps those dogs of war howling in his chest from exploding through his skin. His head turns, quick, a quickquick glance of mingled gratitude and outrage before he returns his eyes to Phoebe.
And takes a step forward. And another. And then he's all but chest to chest with Phoebe, nose to nose, eye to eye. Teeth bared, eyes locked. Because Charlotte is right. This is a challenge. Because Javed is right. It has gone too far. And they are wolves, they are animals, they are incapable of backing down or moving on so long as friction such as this exists in their ranks.
[staredown time! also, note: i'm not totally disregarding social rolls! i just figure they can be taken into account in staredown mechanics by whoever moderates/STs.]
Javed
When they go face to face and eye-to-eye, Javed snaps his attention around. He knows what can happen when Ahrouns go into facedowns, and he is very, very aware of how poorly this could end if things go wrong.
He had looked to Eva to close out the meeting because Erich had called it but had drawn into conflict; it had fallen to her, as the impetus for the meeting, afterward. No more. He takes a step closer to the two, this Ahroun and this Theurge, as he speaks out once more. His voice is not the kind that brooks debate.
"This gathering has come to a close. Everyone who does not have a direct part in this, depart now."
He's not presiding; again, not a Philodox. But if Frenzy (or worse) does take Erich, an Ahroun should be here to stop him from destroying another Garou.
Phoebe
Phoebe loves light and life. She loves her packsisters (strong, steady Keisha, quiet, intelligent Winona, moon-mad Falcon-mad Sophia) and she loves her blood family, those that remain of her bloodline in Denver, brother, parents, aunt and great-aunt and cousins. She likes to lay in the grass and look up at the sky no matter how the stiff stalks poke and stab at her skin. She loves to sing and throw clay around and make lovely things, and doesn't care a whit if these appreciated or not. She loves the wolves of Forgotten Questions only a little more than those of Cold Crescent, feels more bound to them, more connected to the Caern than the city sept.
She's still getting used to the weight of her rank and her place as an Alpha. She would rather let things slide, had tried to let things slide, but Erich. Would. Not. Stop.
And so it's come to this, which is far too far. A burly young Cliath Ahroun stalks over to a tall, willowy Theurge, but she does not back down, does Phoebe Stavros. She lifts her chin and she meets that stare.
And she hopes that Javed will be enough to stop this if the boy loses control.
Avery
Her embarrassment only grows as all this continues. Only at this point, that embarrassment is not for herself. She glances at Javed when he accepts Phoebe's declaration that she will go with them to the Warder, but that glance is disrupted immediately when Erich and Phoebe just begin shouting at each other.
Across the room, she sees Keisha Still-Waters thinking along the same lines as she is. Where are the kin. Avery has kept her seat as Javed rises... and tells them to handle this immediately, here and now, rather the opposite of what she suggested a moment ago. The slight sting is difficult to conceal, but thankfully, no one is really focused on her at the moment.
They are, and rightly so, focused on the Ahroun advancing on the Fostern in the middle of the room, Javed telling everyone who isn't a part of this to depart immediately, Phoebe meeting Erich's eyes, and then everyone in the room will, very likely, turn her way. She is not the only Silver Fang in the room, and she is not the purest wolf in the room, but for a moment, there seems to be a shimmer of air turned silver around her as she rises from her seat. The aura of her tribal and her pack's totem falls upon her, winged and sunlit even in the smallness of the room. She lifts her chin when she stands, and it is difficult -- brutally, almost painfully difficult -- to look away from her. It is not the heights of her rank nor the strength of her body that demand attention. It is just... something about her.
Her voice is steady, and quiet, despite the fact that her pride and herfrustration are mingling with her rage, amplifying both in what could turn into the same sort of sickening spiral the likes of which Erich and Phoebe are currently caught in.
"You, too, Rhya," she says, first to Javed, her tone soft. She has looked at him first, a faint furrow to her brow, an apology inherent in the words. "I will settle this with them." A faint smile, tight with concern and mirthless amusement: "I am the only half moon present.
"Please," she goes on, indicating the path to the door for him, and for others. "I have faith in Storm's Teeth-yuf's control, and Siren of Persephone-rhya's strength and my own." There's a small shake of her head, her words tinted ever so slightly for the ears of the near-enraged wolves. "They will not coat this room in my blood, nor one another's. Though if you, Black Sheep-yuf, and Still Waters-yuf would remain outside the door, I would be most grateful."
Her eyes turn back to Phoebe and Erich. She does not speak to them -- though she intends to -- until everyone else has left the room.
Reverence of Dawn @ 5:02PM
[Charisma + Leadership (compelling) + Falcon + PB
Increasing difficulty due to staredown-in-progress/tension/her rank]
Roll: 14 d10 TN8 (1, 4, 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 8 ) Re-rolls: 3 VALID
Lola
Lola'd watched the tension bubble up and spill on over. If she was taking sides in the argument, it sure didn't show on her face. If anything, she looked unamused by the entire affair.
Hector had burst out to cover up Erich'c choice of words, making an effort to subdue the fight before it began. This was to no avail.
Next thing the Kinswoman knew wolves were rising from chairs, people were bellowing and surging toward one another to stand bristling face-to-face... and over what?
"What the fuck ever," is all Lola really has to say to the situation, and she mutters it under her breath. There's a pat on Hector's shoulder, a light touch of Tamsin's hair from the top of her head to her back, and Lola rose to her feet out of the chair she'd been occupying up until that point.
She'll catch Reese's eye and jerk her head, inviting him to follow her out the door. Outside they'll probably trade numbers, then promptly go their separate ways because he was a Glass Walker Urrah and she was some feral girl trying to play wolf. They just really weren't the sort to hang out.
After that, she'll wait on Hector and Tamsin, and then leave with them when they're ready to go.
Sam
Sam has been quiet through the whole meeting. Yes, the petite punk-looking Glass Walker who spent what she thought were her final moments in an act of kindness to a mad, broken, corrupted Spiral Cub, who looked the Alpha of Beloved Horror in the eye and would have snapped at him had a Gaian Garou not swept the pair of them away, who stole another of Beloved Horror's claimed child right out from under his nose.
She is quiet because she has nothing for the moment to offer, and then she's quiet because she knows. Kin do not get in the way of Garou fights, petty or otherwise. In fact, as soon as Erich starts storming across the room toward Phoebe, Sam nudges her brother in the side and rises. They don't want to be here for this.
So maybe Reese is there to catch Lola's eye, or maybe he's already following his sister toward the exit. Sam doesn't know, because Sam knows full well when to get the hell out of Dodge.
She does pause, though, when they're outside the door, to look for Keisha and Winona. She meets the Theurges as they walk out of that room, catches their eyes and offers them a smile and - for Keisha at least, who Sam knows better - a light, brief touch on the arm. No words, though. Sam has had to mediate (and sometimes participate in) fights between her siblings before, but she knows that it's not the same for Garou.
Nothing ever is.
After that she leaves. Whatever happens, the packmates will want to meet with their Alphas, they won't need unaffiliated Kinfolk loitering around and taking up space.
Reese
Reese is, in fact, on the way out the door with Sam (after a look back at Thomas, complete with raised, questioning eyebrow - the first look the Galliard has gotten from him since they arrived) when Lola tries to catch his eye, because that's okay - he waits outside long enough to catch her, to give her his contact information (cell phone number and email address) for when they get together to do this research or whatever they end up doing. It's only after those few words are exchanged that he joins Sam fully, to - as she put it - get the hell out of Dodge.
Winona
Winona, meanwhile, is agitated and irritated for reasons of her own that are tangentially related to the drama inside but not completely of it. And of course she's also extremely displeased that it got this far in the first place, but when Sam smiles at her some of it eases away a bit. "Drive safe," she offers, and it's pleasant enough even if it is a bit tense. "And thanks."
