2023.02.23 Lessons on the Island
| 02.23.23 Lessons on the Island | |
|---|---|
| Lessons in spirits, Sea Lynx!, a fishy dinner, and shared camaraderie | |
| IC Date | 02.23.23 |
| Players | George, Irsa, Iris, Trey |
| Location | The Island - Southern Beach |
| Spheres | Bastet, Gaian, Garou, Kinain, Sorcerer |
Only the southern beach of the island seems to be accessible from this spot. A large cliff face rises high up into the sky and seems to circle all the way around this small portion of beach. There are trees on this side of the cliff facing and a little patch of forest off to the northeast, but the cliff facing goes out into the water a good ways. There is definitely no way around unless one were to want to try swimming it but that might not be a good idea. To the north a long pathway leads up to a large sprawling manor house which seems to be built right into the cliff facing.
There's a LOT of places in and around the city where the local gaians chill out, and one of those places is here. Rumored to be a long gone caern, it's kept away from humans and watched over by a Garou named George as well as, supposedly, a psychotic raccoon that may or may not be real. There's a ferry from a dock at the beach that's run by some kinfolk, they have plenty of destinations, but the island is one of them. A wink wink nudge nudge will get a Gaian here though, so maybe Trey heard about this from a spirit, or possibly he was trying to find Iris was told she's over here. Whatever the case, ta daaaaa, welcome to the island! Currently, Iris is lying on the sand in the shade, on her stomach with her dirty bare feet waving in the air above her while she's VERY VERY FOCUSED on painting the shell of a little crab that's working on foraging amongst the debris of the beach. Nontoxic paints of course, she's making magnificent glyphs and tribal designs on its small shell, and otherwise trying not to interrupt its lunch time while giving it a sweetass glow up.
Trey hikes up the beach, backpack shouldered. He doesn't really seem to tire easily in his homid form -- probably because it's not his birth form. His long hair is tied back with a thin strip of leather, and the ends are a little tangled from blowing in the salt air. All that said, he's in a cheerful mood, looking toward the sun as the colors begin to appear over the horizon. Twilight comes, and he's content. He grins as he spots the familiar form of the Pancake Elder, chuckling and hastening his steps a bit to head over. His feet are bare at the moment -- boots and socks peer out of his knapsack's top. He approaches, and says, "Hey, I am so sorry about that catnap last night. I was so relaxed, I just kind of got lulled into sleep. That doesn't happen much. Mind if I join?"
It's one of the few beaches where you can cruise around barefoot all day and probably never step on a piece of broken god damned glass or something stupid like that. Iris looks up and beams a sunny smile at Trey, saying, "Sure! Have a seat!" She waves her paint brush hand dismissively at the apology though and says, "Never apologize for giving in to a good nap. Unless it results in the house burning down or something, in which case apologize profusely. All you missed was some yammering back and forth about plans for an upcoming voyage, preparations that have to happen before hand, and also my techno-bee display. How's it goin, friend?"
Trey laughs at that and picks a good spot to settle down onto the sand, close by to be companionable but not so close that it feels creepy. "Techno bees? Now this, I need to hear." He grins and wriggles his toes in the sand contentedly, fishing in the knapsack for a small paper package. "Do you like maple sugar candy? A friend of mine back East sent me a little care package." He opens the wrapping, and it looks like handmade candy. He holds it out in an offer, not pressuring, just being friendly. "And now I'm really curious, because among the things I want to do in this life are seeing Seline up close and learning to shoot a bow."
"Sure! I have no idea if I've had this before or not." Iris says, and she'll take a bit of candy and jam it right in her face hole. The mouth one, not the nose ones. She takes a minute, one half savoring delicious home made sweets, and the other half eyeballing Trey suspiciously. "You're not my kid or something, are you? I mean if you were I assume you'd be garou, since species follows the mother, but weirder things have happened, probably." She leaves techno bees on the back burner for just a second.
Trey grins and takes a piece himself, chewing happily. It reminds him of home, but only after he'd shifted -- cats have no sweet taste buds. "Um...not unless you turn into a lynx and not a wolf," he says, blinking. "Unless you had a night of raw passion with a female lynx and impregnated her? But that seems unlikely. Not impossible, but unlikely. I mean, in theory, I could be female for a few hours with a Gift."
"Huh. Well, I'm straight, so probably not." Iris says with a laugh. She plonks her brush into a little thingie of water and caps the paint, leaving the crab to do its thing while its paint dries. It's covered in venerations to the sea and waves, the glyphs separated by artistic whorls and dots that vaguely look like surf and spray. Sitting up and pulling her legs in lotus style, she says, "I used to be an Amazon of Diana when I was in my Mother phase of life, they're an archery specialist camp within my tribe, so I could probably teach you the bow if you've got the patience for the finesse. My son's learning to, it's a point of pride for him. I've also been to the moon before and can get you there a lot easier than walking, and help you prepare for the journey since it's not really all that cut and dry. I mean, sure you get to skip the leg work, but then you just have to think twice as hard. No free lunches, and all that. As for bees, I was telling Irsa last night that bees invented house techno music and rave dancing."
Trey says, “Ah, well, that would sort of preclude that," he agrees, checking out the crab's shell. "I don't recognize most of those glyphs. We have a different pictographic language... but it's beautiful in any case. I'm only now learning to recognize the Garou tribe and auspice and breed symbols." He considers her as she speaks of her Amazon background, and he nods eagerly as she says she might be able to teach him. "That would be very welcome -- I'm among the smallest of the Bastet tribes, so it was my thought that learning to attack from range would be a smart use of my grace. I have good hands, I'm swift." She reveals she's been to the moon, and he narrowly keeps himself from bouncing in place. "It's been said that we cats go to Seline's embrace when we die. I don't want to wait until I die. but I'm pretty good with mysteries and the like." He purses his lips at that statement about the bees, and looks thoughtful. "Well, bumblebees do kind of move like that, with a bounce and a rhythm.""
"It's hauntingly beautiful." Iris says, looking up to see if she can catch sight of the moon, "Pale sands and shadows blacker than anything you can imagine, pristine lakes of silver and silvery white moonstone formations. There's tributes and art left all over her face by travelers and worshipers, and racing herds of cats, some that never existed on earth and others that might be ancestor spirits of your kind. Luna's palace is glowing and glittering and impossibly large, ever changing in shape and always singing with lunes. Describing her or her garden would never do either justice, so we'll just have to leave that for you to experience on your own." While she babbles about the place, she searches around near her for her Bigass Purse to dig in for a notebook that she opens up to some particuar spot and hands to Trey. "I gotta buncha formulas for talen arrows that I'll share with you! Exploding, lightning bolting, smoke arrows, stuff that's just good versus vampires, stuff that's for regenerating types like were-things. You're gonna have a blast making your own ammo!"
Trey ohs softly, listening with rapt attention, eyes looking toward the horizon for the same reason. "For that alone I'd work to find whatever I needed to get there, even if it took years," he murmurs, dreamily. "For the dreams of cats forgotten by time and the beauty of Her face..." Someone's waxing rhapsodical, and it takes him a moment to regain his normal amiable mien. "I think I could bring back tales that would leave my kind speechless," he says with a smile, but pride is not the primary motivation here -- it's the wandering, inconstant soul. "First I need to learn how to summon and bind spirits!" He looks, though, trying to make sense of the writing even if he's not quite *there* yet.
<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======--->
Trey rolls Intelligence(3) + Occult(3) (6 dice) vs 6 for 0 successes.
1 2 2 3 4 6
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<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======--->
Trey rolls Intelligence(3) + Rituals(2) (5 dice) vs 6 for 4 successes.
4 +6 +7 +9 +9
<-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->
Iris has okay handwriting, enough to be perfectly legible about 90% of the time, however she doesn't just take down notes right to left and top to bottom. There's a lot of drawings in there from working out the talen vessel, and jumbled notes on spirits, offerings, attitudes, habitats and such with occasional random thoughts about things sprinkled in. Though Trey doesn't know the ritual process to DO the thing, the terminology and what not are plenty clear to him with his Rituals understanding. "Lotta bargaining. Little bit of a test of wills. It's not so difficult. I imagine our rites for this are probably very similar, you want me to show you how we do it and start learning the rite?"
Trey gets more of the notes than he'd expected, and is pleased by this -- listening around and paying attention must be paying off. He traces the shape of the vessel in one case and huhs. "I should learn to work with glass scrap, I've seen people make some beautiful things out of it," He muses aloud. "I enchant mostly leather, but I've also been known to find nicer pieces at thrift stores and clean them up and make them nice." Her question gets an eager nod. "Oh, yeah, definitely, if you would?"
"Art is the best." Iris insists with a grin, "A good artistic mind makes the happiest talens and fetishes. Okay so, what should we make? We want to do a basic talen, so what do you think would be a good learning experience for you right now? Maybe... Something to breathe under water, since we're on an island? Unless you're a no-water type cat. Ooooooor, perhaps a sensory booster to let you sense the Wyld around here? Somethin else that comes to mind?"
Trey says, “Definitely should look into using that forge at Sunhome sometime, try it out," he remarks, apropos of the crafting discussion, it seems. "I try to make them beautiful, before anything else. I wouldn't ask a spirit to live in an ugly home." He grins and ponders the question. "I like water, actually. Only not in the winter, that's how I got my name. Walking on thin ice once too many. I would be game to try out breathing water. If for nothing else than to say I could. I can already bolster my senses as a cat-born.""
"It makes catching fish for dinner easier, that's for sure." Iris says with a grin, "Hey! Perfect repayment of the lesson. We'll do this, then you'll go get fish, and we celebrate furthering education with dinner!" While she speaks, she digs around in her Bigass Purse again, sorting through all sorts of crap in there while looking for something. "Ah ha! I still have some left!" A lovely little green glazed clay tablet with a pretty fish carved into it before it was fried. "I did this once before recently and never used all my premade parts. Here, have a looksee. It's simple, but pretty, made with love, good for a little temporary house. So the vessel part is taken care of and we move to the next part, the first ritual of Spirit Summoning. We obviously want a fish, so let's take ourselves down to the water. You need to make sure you're being courtious when you summon. Spirits must come when called, unless you perform badly or they're quite strong willed, so it's only fair that if they *have* to come, then you *have* to be a good host. Make sure you've got water for a fish, fire for a flame elemental, a lovely lunch for a bear, whatever. Got it?"
Trey mmms. "My favorite," he agrees. "Sounds good to me!" Of course, he often eats his raw, at least in kittyforms, but cooking isn't alien, either. "Oh, that's pretty," he says, admiring the tablet. "I could probably make things like that with some effort." Then, miracle of miracles, he shuts up and listens. Made with love, pretty, suitable to the use. "Manners, got it, I think I have a bowl..." He fishes and finds a small metal mixing bowl in his bag -- what the hell is that doing in there? Who knows? He walks toward the water's edge to fill the bowl up, and returns with a little bit splashed on his plaid shirt and jeans, but most of it still in the bowl. "Here we are."
Trey rolls Intelligence(3) + Rituals(2) (5 dice) vs 7 for 3 successes.
5 6 +7 +7 +10
"Excellent!" Iris says as the bowl of water is procured, and once Trey's sat again, she says, "Summoning is simple enough. First you reach out with your spirit to pierce the gauntlet. With you being unable to cross I'm not sure wuite how to explain it, usually I'd say 'as if you were going to cross over but decided not to'. Maybe for you it's like poking a little pin prick hole in a huge sheet of plastic that's blocking you from the spirit world. You're making an opening a spirit can slip through." She does this part, and there's nothing really to see aside from her just taking a minute to get her Zen face on. "Get centered, breathe, reach out, and... poke with your soul."
Trey listens, and then places his hands on his thighs, closing his eyes and breathing slowly, focusing. It doesn't take him long to settle into a serene mindset. He inhales the salt-earthy air, and then blows it out, using his scent to try and pinpoint the spot where the Gauntlet reaches... and he gently, so gently, reaches out with his spirit to try and part it like a curtain to allow a spirit to pass.
<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======--->
Trey rolls Intelligence(3) + Rituals(2) (5 dice) vs 6 for 3 successes.
2 4 +7 +7 +9
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"Now, with the gauntlet pierced, there's an opening for the spirit to arrive, and also for you to call to it. Everything has a sound associated with it, a rhythm, a name from before words existed. You can FEEL that name if you think about it, and that is what you use to call. You can use an instrument, you can drum on your body, you can sing or ululate, the key is getting the rhythm right. The more spirits you meet, the more rhythms you'll understand. So, since we're using salt water, we'll reach out to the sea. I know a little reef fish that's not too uppity." She pulls the legs of her pants up to her knees, and uses her lichtenberg scarred legs as drums, slapping out a simple yet hypnotic rhythm like the moving of the tide. "While your hands call the name, your soul sends the message. Be polite, they have to respond but that's no reason to not be civil. Make your intentions clear, but simple and respectful. You'll know within some minutes if you've succeeded or not."
Trey would be amazed he'd managed it if he wasn't so focused on just Doing the Thing. He breathes, slow in, slow out, letting a soft sound that is somewhere between growl and purr emerge, a simple sound that is hard to place aside from a cattish 'I am here' thing. He lets the sound waft on his breath, letting it slip to something that sounds more *watery*, more like vibrations and bubbles than purrs. His hands move in soft patterns on his thighs to match her beat, swaying a little as his body synchs with the rhythm. He's more likely riding on her Summon, but he pushes the voice through that little hole in the curtain between real and spirit, breathing breath into it. He focuses on being polite, on asking and not telling, as he shapes the sound.
The practiced and mastered flow of Iris's summoning slips into the umbra, draped in the far more fragile beginner's attempt from Trey, an invisible thread that flips time and space the bird as it travels to the intended target. Almost immediately there's a 'bloop!' sound as the water in the bowl is disturbed. There's a small tropical fish in there, brilliantly colored in magenta and gold with fancy fins and glittering scales, an almost exaggerated version of one of those gorgeous mundane reef fish. If you don't speak Spirit, possibly it just sounds like some splooshing around in the bowl, And Iris herself makes some mouth movements that have the slightest of watery sounds. Fish aren't really known for their voices. But there's conversation goin on there, is what I'm sayin. She gestures to the little round fish disk and gesticulates a bit, probably explaining the situation. In the end she beams and slips the token into the water bowl, and the fish rams it at top speed and just vanishes into it, leaving the water wiggling and rippling and the bowl fishless. "Ta daaaaa."
Trey hears the *bloop* and almost loses his focus. It only takes about half a second to gain it back and weave back into the rhythm, but then, who does it right the first time? Almost nobody, that's who! His eyes open and he looks down, listening to Iris and the fish, not quite *getting* it, but trying to commit the sound of it to memory, if nothing else. He shifts to perceiving a more mystical part of the world, feeling the moment's magic as the fish spirit disappears into the token, the ripples going still within the bowl. "Ahhhh... I think I did the speech wrong, but I see what happened, so I think I get it in concept."
"Nah you didn't get anything wrong." Iris assures while plucking the tab out of the water and shaking the drops off it before handing it towards the cat. "Now, when the spirit gets to you, it's a negotiation, that's what I was doing there. It'd be rude to make it sit in a bowl while I explained so I just did it and NOW I'm explaining. You do it just like you're sitting down with a friend of a friend that you want to ask a favor of. Introduce yourself, thank them for coming, hand shakes where applicable, offer a cup of tea or whatever is appropriate, and otherwise just be a cool guy. Some mystics like to throw their weight around, and the spirits don't exactly appreciate it. Being a dick is the easiest way to get yourself a cursed item. Now, once you've made pleasantries and stuff, you explain the favor and ask if they'd be willing to help. In this case, I need a token that will allow an air breather to become a water breather for a short time, as is possible for my Uktena cousins. But you don't get something for nothing, nor should you, so there's some caveats. First, this is a talen, it's meant to be temporary. That fish is half in slumber in there, it's confined, a free fish trapped in a bowl. It agreed to it, but you want to get it back to its home and friends before too long, not pack it around for fifty years. So you agree on a time limit. A couple weeks is usually the longest you want to offer, I mean imagine having to live in an office building you couldn't leave. Two weeks is a lot! Next, you make a little quid pro quo. You give me this ability, and I'll do this thing to honor you. Whether it's taking a full day to go pick trash and shut up out of the shallow waters, or going TO that spirit's home to offer assistance for something. It doesn't need to be huge, keep it in the scope of what you're asking for. In this case, I promised the fish that it could tease a cat and get away scot free. Just a bit of fun. It agreed, and then we had a small battle of wills. It's a Gaffling so I didn't have to try hard. Think of it like a staring contest where, if you blink first, it gets to punch you in the face and leave the deal entirely. This little guy though, it was more like saying 'come oooooon!' and it caved in and did it happily. Does all that make sense?"
Trey listens to that long but surprisingly clear explanation, nodding at key points to show he follows. "Just like bargaining with my Jamak when I was bound with her," he says, "Though my mentor was the one who did the bonding for me. It was when I was still a kitten, still learning. So, let me recap, to be sure I get it. Be polite, recognize that you're asking a favor, offer them something that appeals specifically to them, whether it's power or a deed as chiminage, set a time limit for the Talen, and then have a staring contest."
"Right!" Iris says, and offers a high five in leu of a gold star. "The end result is REALLY close to a fetish, but there's a drastically different process here. It's simpler, more straight forward, but the bonus is you don't need to be some master ritualist to make a talen. You just have to be nice and play a good host. Be willing to tit for tat. Okay, so let's go try this out, I said we'd do it pretty close to right away, and that it wouldn't have to stay bound for long." She picks herself up and offers a hand up in Trey needs it, and says, "Let's go swimming! And then we can seriously regret all our life choices and be SO MAD that I didn't suggest building a fire before hand!"
Canadian Lynx accepts and returns the high five. Who needs gold stars anyway? They make lousy appliances. He comes to his feet with her help and grins, then shifts down to his Lynxish form. Hey, it's warm water, why not? He fishes the token from the bowl with a huge paw, and then take it in his mouth as they trot down to the water side.
Iris skips along beside the cat and says, "Alright, now the How To for talen use. It's super simple. Remember how you poked a hole in the Gauntlet? It's almost the same thing. stick it in the sand there where the water can touch it, and touch your nose very gently against it. Concentrate, breathe, reach out with your spirit and give it a little tickle and think 'wake up'." While she speaks, she ooooh so casually takes a step or two back while smiling.
Canadian Lynx manages to turn one of his forelimb dewclaws up in something like a thumbs-up, nodding his understanding. Then he puts down the talen right at the edge, where lapping water licks its surface. Then he noses up to it, thinking at it >>wake up<<.
The magenta and gold fish BURSTS out of the talen and practically up Trey's nose, flailing in its jump to slappidy slappidy slappidy the cat's snoot in rapid fire movements before blooping into the surf and zipping off. Probably this would normally leave a person sputtering with water up their nose, but surprisingly there's no choking happening, cause the cat can breathe that shit now! Hooray! "Dinner's your mission, m'boy. Make me proud!"
Mercy is right at the water's edge with a bigass lynx, who's got a little thing he's sniffing real close to the sand. That thing is a talen, and he's just activated it. A magenta and gold fish BURSTS out of the talen and practically up Trey-cat's nose, flailing in its jump to slappidy slappidy slappidy the cat's snoot in rapid fire movements before blooping into the surf and zipping off. Probably this would normally leave a person sputtering with water up their nose, but surprisingly there's no choking happening, cause the cat can breathe that shit now! Hooray! "Dinner's your mission, m'boy. Make me proud!"
Canadian Lynx phhlfs out a snootful of water, no choking, and lets out a chuffing sound that's probably laughter. He was warned! Plus, hey, he can breathe it! He takes off from zero to ZOOMIES in nothing flat, jumping into the surf and swimming out -- such that a lynx can, anyway. He dives, stubby little tail flailing around as he sinks below the surface in a merry cat-dance. So maybe this cat actually likes water? Go fig! He disappears for a bit, swimming further and diving again. Fish hunting time!
Bones snap and break, elongating and warping into a new form. Irsa becomes an enormous wolf.
What a lovely spirit-moon it is, to be sure. Enormous Wolf has wandered this way from the caern, in need of something for once other than the clamoring of dozens of Garou and Kin around her for once. Spotting the pair, she lets out a low 'rrr!' and pads their way. Her ears twist this way and that as she watches the lynx dicing like an absolute pro. >> Good hunting. Fish. or rock-fish? << she asks her mentor. This is clearly wolf for 'crab'.
<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======--->
Canadian Lynx rolls Wits(4) + Survival(3) (7 dice) vs 6 for 2 successes.
1 3 3 5 +6 +7 9
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"HA!" Mercy blurts out, both at the success of the fish's chiminage, and for the cat's enthusiasm for becoming a bonafide cat fish. The talen, meanwhile, has broken in half, and she collects up the pieces and stuffs them into a pocket somewhere before wading out into the water. Which is probably super cold for anyone but Trey, to be honest. She does not breathe water at the moment, so she's content to chill out at the water's surface and just keep an ear open in case Trey somehow finds a way to start drowning. It could probably happen, who knows. She keeps an eye out, and begins her own vocal documentary in order to fill Irsa-wolf in.
"Behold, the magestic Sea Lynx, a critically endangered species. This cat fish has evolved over the millenia in many ways, though perhaps the most startling evolution is the ability to yowl under water. Calling pridemates or signaling territorial upset, the Sea Lynx is not above playing with its own yowl bubbles as a form of entertainment. We do not know how it makes these bubbles."
Canadian Lynx is so caught up in the fun of swimming without holding his breath that it takes him a little bit to remember that he was supposed to be getting dinner. With some clever squirming and claw action, he secures a large thrashing fish, scales shiny under the moon, and gives it a good solid biting to teach it who's boss. He then swims back in and drops it at Iris' feet, yowling offkey at her in a playful way, and then continuing the yowl as he heads back out to try for another. Hey, it was her idea!
Enormous Wolf lets out a huff of amusement at Mercy, and stretches out her neck to nose the fish. >> He does well. I like that this is lesson and play for him, and not dominance. << She's speaking of a time not long ago, when the two theurges were out here with over-competitive males from the sept. >> Do you need a fire? I can take my birthform and make one. <<
Iris scoots her way up onto a rock, dribbling water and trying to be careful that she doesn't squish any little crustation bros or anything. "Sure! I don't think we're supposed to eat raw fish in lupus, don't we choke on the bones or something? Or maybe that's chicken. Whichever. We were workin' learning him up some mystic stuff. How to summon, how to bind, that kind of thing. Went for a spirit of the fish talen, and his repayment is dinner." Speaking of which, she snags the fish Trey already snagged and gives it a quick wash in the water to make sure sand and slobber is off it before she starts searching for a pocket knife to clean it. "I imagine he'll be back in a minute, but a cat's gotta play so I'm not in a rush. How's your day, Apprentice?"
Canadian Lynx yowls for real this time, and starts heading forth toward the shore, and the reason for the exclamation becomes obvious as they can see him grappling with a crab that's caught his nose in one pincer, the other pincer clamped in Trey's mouth. The standoff continues until he shakes his head hard at the edge of the surf, shaking his poor nose free of the pincer. He then releases the crab and puts one large lynx paw on it, rrrring at it threateningly. >>So there!<< He doesn't expect anyone to understand the words, but the intention should be there. He offers a toothy catgrin at Irsa and motions toward the crab -- between the two, it looks like dinner is well in hand, so long as everyone's not in a warform for it.
>> I am hiding from my duties for a time, << Hammer-Tooth replies, jaws parting in a wolfish grin. >> There were too many at the caern, and I wanted more quiet. There are voices, small ones in the distance. that I can almost hear if I pay attention to them. My old teacher told me that as the seasons turned, I would be more in tune with spirit than flesh. Do you think that is what is happening? << She pokes the happy lynx with her snout and begins to shift back to her birthform.
Bones snap and break, shrinking and shaping into a new form. The creature before you becomes a dark, scarred woman.
Iris may not understand cat fluently, but that shit was funny and she does speak funny! "So how's the experience? Less rushed, am I right?" she asks the kitteh. She then wobble-nods and shrugs at Irsa, "Yeah? I mean, there's a veeeeeery fine line between enlightenment and madness, but I think you're too young to be mad just yet. I will say, though, be better than me about your mental health. Remember to eat real food and try not to get your face electrocuted by weird spirits. It does things to your eyes that I don't... *fully* recommend. I don't *not* recommend it either, though..."
Trey nods, and then shifts back up to his manform. His hair is wet, but his clothes are dry. Ah, the method to the madness! He listens as they speak but doesn't interrupt, picking up the spoils of his fishing and heading toward the clearing where they were sitting to start a fire. The crab, he puts back into the mostly-full water bowl, intending to boil it; if the fish isn't finished with cleaning, he gets to doing that without hesitation, in the manner of someone used to it. "Dibs on the guts, I like them in Feline form."
Irsa flashes a grin. "Oh, I'm gonna get me some of that, no doubt about. But yeah, definitely when I'm older. It's weird, the Bone Gnawers are a city tribe but th' Wyld is strong with us. Momma Rat blesses us in a lotta ways." She's already begun work on building the fire, snapping smaller sticks into kindling and she sorts through some collected wood other visitors have left there. "All yours. Kinda th' rule: first bite of th' kill goes to th' one who caught it." It's not exactly the way the official Litany works, but who cares? No one here is gonna object to common sense.
"You'll have to split them with a local protector spirit," Mercy tells Trey, "Guts and blood to the shark goddess in trade for the meat, so if you want some guts then you'll have to sacrifice some meat in its stead. Here..." Mercy offers him a big gross handful of internal fish bits and a strip of fish meat. "Take some out to the dock, say a little thanks and chuck some out in the water." She nods her agreement with Irsa's first-bite notion as well. She'll wait till Trey's taken care of all that, taking the silence time to think of a good response. Once they're all together, though, "Most of our kind see cities as terrible blights on Gaia's skin, and they're not always wrong, but I think our kind gets uh... Our perceptions tend to narrow, turn more black and white. Maybe that's because of how we teach things, or where we learn things, I dunno. But the triat thrives in a city just as much as it does in a forest. It's just very different, and I guess maybe the cats and wolves and stuff who are more, you know, like bred FROM that wilderness don't always recognize it the same way that those who are bred FROM the urban wilderness do. Cities do get out of whack easier, but they're still brimming with creation. Just a different *kind* of creation."
"I'll share," Trey agrees, "I don't like them as much on two feet, but as a cat, they're delish." He takes the bits that Mercy hands to him, walks out to the dock, and says, "Thank you for the bounty of our catch. It will not go wasted." He gives the bits to the water there reverently, and then returns. He lifts the bowl into a place beside the fire, setting a rock in place to help hold the bowl over the flames. Good enough for government work, or for alfresco cooking! He reaches into his bag, drawing out a used-but-cleaned piece of tin foil, and laying the remains of the fish atop the sheet of foil, then wrapping it as best he can. He takes a little pinch of something green from a vial and sprinkles it on the fish, then that, too, is firebound. "Dried green onion," he explains. "I keep a little on me because it's nice on most things." The guts, however, he just puts onto a rock to warm up a little so they're not ice cold, no green onion for them. And a lesson with food! He shifts back to damp kitty form, and enjoys a good mouthful of the guts while the rest cooks. He does leave some for the others, just in case. Share and share alike. The lesson, he ponders as he chews a rubbery bit, licking the blood off his snout. He considers an answer, but lets it percolate for a moment.
Irsa is totally fine with leaving those guts for Sea Lynx, there's fish and crab a'plenty to share. "I still ain't met a couple of tribes here to get their views on things. Hell, I ain't met one tribe at all. But they're lupus-born, no surprise there. You got any experience with Red Talons, Pancake?" She fishes an old towel of her pack and drops it on the sand, the best place to sit. "Now that smells good," she admits to Trey. "Most of my cooking is more heating than anything."
"Not much." Mercy admits, "I've met a couple, but only briefly. They're too angry, and I mean, I *get* it, but wonky triat or not, you gotta adapt. My views wouldn't be terribly popular amongst them, probably. Me, I'm not HUGE on cities, at least not on the physical plane, mainly because I'm not used to all the jumbles of sounds and smells so it's just sort of overwhelming, but they're neat places to explore, and I really do enjoy them in the umbra. Great for flying practice, there's crazy ecosystems, new and interesting spirits are being born all the time, and it's got a neat sort of rhythm to it."
Canadian Lynx shifts back to pull everything out of the fire, just in time. His facility with swift shifts seems to come from a desire to spend more time in the body he was born in. He uses a knife to slice up the portions -- he only takes a small amount of the other bits, because like he said, he took most of the guts. He presents each lady with a claw from the crab with a flourish, and a healthy portion of fillet. There may not be much in the way of dishes, but hey, lick your fingers like a grownup shifter, right? "There are some things in cities that are good. Libraries, for one." He licks his fingers and considers the lesson. "I may wind up buying a motorcycle at the rate I'm going, much as i hate the idea, because I'm going all over the place a lot. I prefer to walk when I can, though."
Irsa grunts her thanks as Trey shares out the food, digging in hungrily. She makes short work of the crab claw and amuses herself for a few moments playing with the discarded shell bits. "Hell, I don't drive, or even ride most times," she admits to Trey. "It's running around here or in th' Umbra." She nods at Mercy. "Ya can always fly, like her."
Mercy makes a "Woo!" sound when she gets crabby and fishy bits, but she's a much slower eater, and is very deliberate about the whole thing. Eating is hard! "Fuck that, get a unicycle. I mean what, are you in a rush? Travel in style, and have both hands free for juggling or map reading! It's only difficult when going up hill. Or fly!" But she nods about Libraries as well and says, "Cities are super weird and interesting. And I might be talkin shit about Red Talons for being all angry and stuff, but honestly, we need them and their anger. We're all facets of a whole, if we forget how to be super pissed off about deforestation and don't trash the machines, we give leave for cities to spread. Every system needs a predator, even if it's just for the sake of being scary and keeping something hemmed in."
"Fly? If only. Then I could be Sea Sky Lynx!" Trey grins and settles back, letting out a gentle burp and relaxing for a post-dinner stretch. If he was in his birth form, he'd probably be grooming. "Being able to breathe water is amazingly fun. I need to make something to let me do that more often."
He thinks more about Irsa's words, though, and says, "I'm able to drive a little, but I'd probably take a lesson or two just to make sure I know what I'm doing. A unicycle... would be difficult as a cat. Funny as all hell, though. I could read and get places..." Oh, don't give him bad ideas, he might just try it for the sake of trying it. "Miguel offered me a room at the sanctuary, so I do a lot of running around. Not that I mind, it keeps me active. But that's why the motorcycle."
He listens, then, hearing about the cities and what the Red Talons think. "The Talons are the ones all wolf-born, yes?" Just making sure. "I think cities within reason would not be bad, as trading places and centers of learning. Places to share common ground and goals. But that's not what they've become."
"Swimming is fun. So is surfing. And runnin' on top of the water." Irsa hunts in her pack for a thermos, and passes it around. There's hot cocoa in there, thoughtfully provided by one of the fire-tenders at the sept. "We should introduce ya to George. He's got vehicles, probably could bargain with him there. Lives here, too," she says, waving an arm around. "Talons are... hrm. How do I put this. All I know 'bout them is that there's wolf-born, and then there's WOLF-born. They kinda got a burr up their asses that way. Allegedly."
"Lupus born nature purists." Mercy agrees with a nod to Irsa's description, "Very against homid-ness and human-ness and are keen to see the world regain its primal state. They're not wrong, they're just... very hard core about it. Personally, and I'm sure this is probably blasphemy, but I think the problem is the veil. I mean we've needed it, we didn't exactly put our best foot forward with the humans of old, or anyone else for that matter, and so the veil has been beneficial as a result, but as a shitty consequences to that, the humans are just... completely ignorant of everything that we're so pissed off about. Like, they don't have a clue that the ground is screaming, they can’t hear bird coughs, they have no concept of spirits, or how they're born, whether we're talking about nature spirits struggling along the highways, or Dratosii burrowing in violent back allies. Personally, I'd rather the veil didn't exist and that everyone's eyes were opened, but I also know that'd come with cataclysmic consequences before the world got itself settled down again. But once it did, the classical era could rise again, I think." She shrugs and sighs, saying, "Ah well. Won’t be a thing that happens in my lifetime, alas."
Trey ooohs and accepts the thermos, pleasantly surprised at the flavor of the cocoa. He passes it back after a swallow, and says, "George. I keep hearing that name," with a decisive nod. "I'd prefer to keep the money within... well, the distant family, at least?" He chuckles then, good-natured as always. Hearing about the Talons says, "I'll remember to give them a wide berth, then, because they probably don't like cats much, then." Then he listens to Mercy's description of life without the Veil, and his eyes go wide, and he goes quiet. Thoughtfully quiet, but still quiet, not sure how he feels about that idea, and not sure his opinion would matter much in the overall scheme of the universe. He's just one cat in a huge universe.
"Right?" Mercy asks with a nod at Trey's silence and wide eyes. "Like, I'm aware that it's basically the antithesis of probably both our laws, it's in the big ten to maintain that veil like crazy, but..." she shrugs and spreads her hands, "It's still just a result of fear. Humans fearing things they don't understand and can’t control, fearing ancient predators that have scarred them so badly they still flip their shit a millenia later if they ever see us. OUR fear of being hunted down and driven to total extinction, thus leaving the Wyrm free to totally fuck the whole place up. It's a weird contradiction, I'm glad we DO teach our kids to be careful and secretive, but I also know that things weren't always this way. We did mingle once. Till some dickbag had to go and screw everything up." She eye rolls.
"George is one of th' Elders here," Irsa answers for Trey. "His Rite name is 'Mocks the Dark', if that tells ya anything about him. Solid dude, got my Kinfolk here from th' safehouse where I'd stashed them when I first arrived. But yeah, if need a vehicle, he's definitely th' man to talk to. He's a Silent Strider too, so if you wanna learn more 'bout Leeches he'd love to help ya." She takes a sip from the thermos and grunts at Mercy. "Try a bag of dicks," she adds. "That ain't changed."
Trey notes, "I'll seek him out, then. And yeah, definitely want to learn about the Leeches -- in cities, they become a real problem for us all." He's still a bit overwhelmed by Mercy's vision of a world without the Veil, but some part of him can't help but cling to that tiny little scrap of a concept in his head -- about as much of it as he can fathom in such a short amount of time. "It's... a world not at conflict, what would we do, then? Were there no things for Gaia's Eyes to see and react to... I wonder what we would become. Not that this is a denial of the idea, just a thought about... consequences."
Mercy nods to Irsa in agreement, and says, "George is great, solid dude, one of the best and first people I met here. And... Yep, wishful thinking and could-be's. But, the litany is the litany, so don't either of you go tearing the veil or anything, cause I'm NOT saying you should! Just... fantasizing and sharing an opinion. I don't think we'd run out of conflict though, I mean people are the way they are so they wouldn't suddenly go all utopic just because they can see more clearly. But like... Think back to like 5 thousand years ago. Yeah, the veil was there, but not... like suffocatingly so. I mean shit, there's a city named after the Bastet in Egypt, AND a city named for wolves. We had our little cults, and like someone would be all 'holy shit, there's a fuckin monster over there!' and who goes to deal with that? Us, them, both, heroes of old made legend. You still had nut jobs that turned people against others, burned down temples, started wars and stuff, did the Wyrm's work. But I bet it was fun as shit back then! I mean imagine being some teenager and being like, I'm gonna go find an actual... like three headed monster and a pile of jewels!"
"Conflict ain't gonna go away if things become better between flesh and spirit," Irsa remarks. "We don't talk 'bout it 'cause most of us are ignorant on a lotta things, but I'll give you an example. Wolf packs? They kill other wolves for territory, even eat the intruder's bodies some times. Just straight-up wolves, not Kinfolk or anything. Leopards love eatin' primates, so humans are on th' menu for some cats when baboons are in short supply. Hell, even prey animals will murk some poor baby prey animal so they can get it on with that baby's mama. None of this is taint, or unnatural for animals. Spirits do th' same thing in the Umbra. Shifters guard both here and the Umbra. If the world changes back, then we'll still be needed."
Trey listens, but for a moment, he seems to fade out, then back in, in terms of his focus. "Don't look at me, I'm not tearing anything I can't fix -- unless it's an enemy, in which case, it's slashy time." He looks thoughtful still and says, "I think I'm hearing whispers, is there a spirit nearby?" He grins at the thought of the monsters and jewels. "That could be quite a tale in the making," he says with a toothy grin. The smile fades a bit at the thought of conflict. "True. All of it. I was the only one in my litter that survived. The others... I think my mother abandoned them." He doesn't sound sad, per se -- just pensive. "There is no utopia, just better places, then." He looks distracted again, hmming. "I think I did it."
"Probably." Iris answers, when spirits are brought up, "There's definite madness on the island, so don't wander off the beach or past the club house unless you're feeling lucky or have someone with you. And do not, under ANY circumstances, have sex with any weirdo girls here, okay? Like at all. Do not stick your dick in crazy and destroy us all. There's a dragon that lives under the island as well, but not a mokole kind of dragon. As for who might be whispering to you two, I do not know, I haven't heard it. Any idea on what it's saying?"
Irsa gestures with her chin at Trey. "See? I ain't the only one hearin' voices. Nine outta ten theurges say it's probably spirits, but who knows? Like Mercy says, there's all kinds of weird shit out here. Wyld's left its mark all over th' place."
Trey blinks slowly. "Um... I was born feline, I don't really have the urge to stick my dick in anything but a female lynx in heat. No offense, but human sex holds... little to no appeal to me. Perhaps I will feel different if I meet a Kin woman and she and I click, but..." He shrugs mildly. "And I *especially* will not be sticking my dick into a dragon. I tend to be able to see that they're... different, let's say, even in other forms." He hrms and says, "It sounds like, 'welcome, child, nice to see you awake.' Or something like that. But not in English or catspeech." He nodnods. "I was trying to comprehend it earlier, have been trying to hear the voices since. I think I succeeded. Either that or it's the weird shit here, as mentioned."
George comes in from The Island - Clubhouse George has arrived.
"PRAISE THE GODDESS!" Mercy blurts with her fists up in the air and a grin on her face. Any time you find a male that's not lead around by his dick is a time worth celebrating! "Well, think back a hearty hello to whoever it was, and maybe you'll run in to them at some point." Kool and the Gang are hanging out on the beach, the usual, with a little fire to keep warm by. They've had a little food recently, there's a few fish bones and crab bits awaiting disposal off to the side.
"How dare you do things th' right way," Irsa says dryly. "If you keep this up, you'll rank up like a pro." She's sitting near a fire with the others, finishing off a slab of freshly-cooked fish.
Trey focuses for a moment, and tries to send a >>thank you<< to the voice, which seems to hear and accept, at least as far as his crazy catbrain can tell. "I think it worked." He looked very, very pleased with himself at this. He beams at the other two and absently bats a small sand pile with his big toe, drawing a lazy circle with the digit. "I try, I really do. That's me, I'm just a Trey-Hard." Oh, sweet Gaia, the dad jokes and he's not even a dad.
George was sneaking up, really he was. Then Trey's joke has him snickering behind the new guy. Commenting, George moves around to take a seat "That's a good one. And really, there are worse things to be than enthusiastic."
"HA!" Mercy blurts at Trey's awful, awesome dad joke, and startles a bit when a wild George appears out of no where! "Hey, friend! George, meet Trey! Trey, this is the George Irsa mentioned." She grins at her fellow elder and says, "We were just getting out of depressing philosiphizing and moving casually back in to more fun topics about like... I dunno, moon cheese or something. How you doin'?"
Irsa really should be used to George sneaking up groups by now, but alas! She was paying far more attention to new guy's joke. She nearly jumps out of her skin, brandishing a thermos like a deadly weapon. In her hands, it likely is. "Oh, it's you, Mocks the Dark'rhya," she huffs out in relief. "You got th' best timing in th' world, seriously."
Trey starts to laugh brightly, offering a helpless wave in greeting, well at ease in jeans and a tee with bare feet, workboots sticking out of a knapsack. "Thanks! As the lady said, I'm Trey... Treads-on-Thin-Ice to be more precise, four-footed Bastet of the Qualmi tribe." He pauses, and asks, "Irsa, I keep hearing this word 'rhya '-- I assume it is an honorific? Is it only Garou to Garou? I hope I didn't give offense for not using it when I came to the Patrol leaders the past few days." He grins and adds, ""I've been fortunate enough to find a warm welcome here. Warmer than anywhere I've been so far, truth be told."
George grins and shrugs "It is an acknowledgement that the person you are referring to with it is greater in rank than you. Fera being outside our system of rank and standing wouldn't use it. Also, it is properly only used with Rite or Deed names. Not human names." He pauses for a beat and then looks to Trey "I was in a pack with a swara once upon a time, and I've studied the ways of the Ahadi and the Emerald Courts. I have exerted a non-trivial amount of effort to make the local gaian community more harmonious than a lot of other places. Personally I find it bullshit how much energy gets wasted that could be better spent fighting the Wyrm."
"Right?!" Mercy agrees whole heartedly with George. "I like moments like this, cats and wolves chillin out together, city and wilderness types, no one trying to eat each other's face. It's really nice. More time for fun stuff like rite learning, bad jokes, and delicious food."
"I don't think most here expect ya to know the wolf-terms, t' be honest," Irsa replies to Trey, backing up George's explanation. "You're good, you got manners. That always goes far. Besides, that goes both ways, not just one. I'd rather be here talkin' and chillin' than being all pissy about forms and shit."
Trey accepts that explanation with the attention he always gives when people are teaching him things. They don't call 'em the Eyes of Gaia for nothin'! He ohs and says, "The Swara are probably the most spiritual of us; they are the most at ease traveling the Umbra. I've been made very welcome here so far. And I agree. I would rather extend a hand than a claw." He motions around him. "But I guess that's pretty obvious. I'm more mystic than anything, but I want to become a better warrior as well." And he, too agrees with them all. "Better to live in the now and be open to the people around you who'e in the same fight," he says.
George nods and grins at Trey "You'll get it just fine then. We've got plenty of teachers around here for a variety of styles of fighting. I am a fan of knives, ambushes, and high mobility skirmishing. To absolutely no one's surprise."
"Bows and pile drives." Mercy says, and passes the combat specialty resume building off to Irsa, saying, "I've heard what you can do with furniture!"
"And bricks," Irsa reminds her theurge mentor. "I also do a lotta things up high, 'cause th' Enemy has a bad habit of not looking up there. Rat-wolves do one thing damn well: city battles. You gotta use all that terrain, especially ape-made terrain, to your advantage."
Trey looks thoughtful, then says, "I can fight, but my warform isn't that large or strong -- it varies with cats, and my birth form is a lynx, so I'm smaller. Quicker, though. I'm looking at Archery as a good option, because I have good hands. Softening 'em up from range might be my best place in a fight. Or hamstringing." He laughs and says, "The desk! Oh hell yeah, the desk... Is there a martial art that specializes in 'whatever the fuck I found right here' as a weapon?" He laughs again and says, "One thing cats are good at... jumping. And falling well."
George grins at Trey and considers "The Denfather before the current one once killed a dude by throwing a car door like a discus. Currently though? If you can get a hold of him I'd say talk to Leif, the current Eldest of the Get of Fenris. He's an Ahroun with pockets always full of random shit he can make murder out of."
George adds "For Archery you want to go to the Furies tho. That's their jam."
"Right? No one *ever* looks up! It's like they've never seen a movie with giant spiders in it." Mersy blurts to Irsa with a laugh. "And sneaking!" she adds to Trey with a grin, "Cats are great at sneaking." She adds a sage nod to George though, "Yep, already promised I'd help him learn the bow, just gotta go get a loaner from the depot at some point and get him and Pink aquainted so they can share lesson time and help out."
"Pancakes's the one who taught me t' use a bow," Irsa remarks, nodding at Mercy. "If ya don't mind, I'd like to join in when ya'll meet up. Ain't seen Pink in a while."
"Ultimate Frisbee meets Death Match," Trey comments, imagining the devastation of a car door coming in like a buzzsaw. "That's just *wrong*, but it's wrong in all the right ways." He nodnods again and says, "Having another student on hand will give me something to compete with, or measure success against. Which is good when you're trying to learn something physical. And yeah, I do the sneakysneaky, too. The big fat paws are good for moving silently. Spreads the impact around to make it quieter." He grins at Irsa and says, "I'm always happy to see you," sincere about it.
George snickers and adds teasingly "I mean Pink is a cub not long past his first change, so there's that. You can always say its because he's got archery in his blood though."
Irsa snorts at George's remark. "Don't listen to him, Pink's awesome." She grins a bit at Trey's remark. "Well, I'm always happy t' see you, too. Not often we get new folks in town, especially good ones with sense."
"He is surprisingly good at it. I think it might have something to do with his breed," Mercy muses with her brow furrowed in thought, "Finding a finess and grace in that when he's clumsy and awkward with everything else except claws. It's a good workout though, you'll be exhausted afterwards, but you'll make a lot of progress really fast, I'm sure of it."
Trey chuckles softly. "I could, at that. Plus, he's gonna have a better pull, right? Being naturally 9 foot tall?" Irsa's reply makes him sober a bit, and his smile actually softens for a half-second, despite his jolly nature. Friendship among shifters is rare enough to be cherished. "Well, what good is training if you'[re not tired when you're done?"
George grins at Iris "He isn't six foot in homid yet is he? Not sure if he's a full nine foot in crinos. Probably close though. I used to use guns for range rather than bows, Its been a long time since I have taken the case out. My approach to problem solving evolved over the years."
"Check out th' other Elder calling your kid 'short' " Irsa says to Mercy with a grin. "Them's fighting words!" she barks, making little gun fingers.
"He's not that tall yet," Mercy admits with a laugh, "But he's growing like a weed. He'll look like young adult soon enough." She snorts a laugh and looks to Irsa, "He's so short, though!"
Trey notes, with fake despondence, "I'm not six feet in Homid either." He mock-sniffles, then chuckles, going back to the earlier point. "I tried out a rifle, didn't much like it. Course, damn thing nearly threw my shoulder out first time. But I like being quiet about things when I'm going into danger. Otherwise, when would I ever shut up?"
George nods at Trey and salutes "Same to be honest. The case I mentioned is one of those briefcases with the parts for a sniper rifle inside. Its fairly quite but I have a lot more certain ways to be sure of a kill up close than with that."
"Size ain't everything," Irsa puts in. "Look at me, what do I do with alla this? I look like a damn Ahroun. Besides, th' best Full Moon I've met so far is th' alpha in my old pack, Rat's Rage. Streetside's only yeah high," she says, miming off a height a good foot shorter than herself, at least.' Anyone who thinks small ain't good enough can fuck allll th' way off. It's skill and grit that matters."
Mercy laughs and nods her agreement to all this, "Stereotypes are weird. But, isn't the real height the friends we made along the way?"
"Ah, sniping." Now, it all makes sense to Trey. "I actually heard of a fetish that's a thrown spear that can hit anything within line of sight that can conceal against the bone. I had an idea for something like it, but with a bow, someday." He nods eagerly at the support, and says, "Yeah, s'true. My Kuasha -- my mentor -- was shorter than I am but he was vicious in a fight. A lot of hamstringing and barrel roll throating. And he was faster'n me." Mercy's comment makes him laugh helplessly, shaking his head.
George snickers at Mercy and adds "I once tried to use the Gift of the Spriggan to go full kaiju on a warehouse full of wyrmspawn. Fucked it up and shrunk instead. I just went with my best tasmanian devil impression and commenced with the murdering."
"I have a spare fetish bow, actually," Mercy pipes up, "Bound with a tenacious Wolverine spirit. It will send your arrow around obstacles to find its prey. If you're interested in it, you'd have to earn it, but it's there to BE earned, unless or until you decide to make your own bow. My old pack and I found it when we were on our way to go see Gaia." She O.O!'s at George and says, "Damn, dude. I'm fully imagining, like, that tiny death claw you find in Fallout New Vegas. I think that'd be just as terrifying as a kaiju. Maybe more so cause you can’t always see a little death machine coming at you."
"What's a kaiju?" Irsa asks, as she slides her thermos over to George. Hot chocolate, oh boy!
Trey bursts out laughing at the image of Tiny!George the Tasmanian Devil. This is a good night for laughter, it seems. Mercy's comment about him earning a fetish bow makes his eyes go wide, and he ohs and says, "Wow, that sounds like an amazing weapon. So, where's that mountain you need moved with a spork?"
George grins broadly at Irsa "A giant monster. Like Godzilla, Mothra, Clifford. When I get that gift to work properly I wind up near about thirty feet tall in warform. its pretty great." Mercy gets a nod "Exactly, is why I figured on leaning into it."
Mercy offers a high five to George, then laughs at Trey and says with a wink, "We'll start with getting you able to use a bow without shooting yourself in the knee, and learning the rites required to care for it and the strength to sring it. Then we'll find the mountain. Ooh, excuse to take someone somewhere in a reckless bid to make nice with a thingie. It's gonna be so fun!"
"Do they got Gifts for shrinkin' down real small?" Irsa asks the others. "Being giant-sized has great an' all, but sometimes you just wanna be outta sight and over looked." She scratches her jaw at Mercy's words and looks over at Trey. "Careful, she ain't joking. She'll drag you someplace weird and wonderful, and totally blow your mind."
Trey tips an imaginary hat to Mercy and says, "If I shoot myself in the knee, I will humbly submit to any and all mockery." For a cat, that's saying a lot. "You need Rites to maintain it, too?" Another nod -- don't threaten him with a good time! He pauses, looks a bit hesitant in a playful way, and says, "Is this the point where I should be worried? Or did we pass that point already?" Irsa's words make him smile. "Sounds good to me! And I can't speak for the Garou, but I know there's a rare cat gift that turns us into house cats... though I don't know it."
George returns the offered high five and nods at Trey "Domestic Seeming. I picked it up a while back. Its a real handy trick. Taught by a peace spirit by the by." The last is added to Irsa, George assumes Mercy already knows. Then, also to Irsa "Its a term from monster movies that's used to describe extra large building sized monsters. Like a thunder wyrm if you've ever seen one."
"Yes." Iris answers the cat, "Fetishes aren't just things, they're alive, they're semi aware, they think and have opinions, and they want some respect for all the hard work they're doing being trapped so you can use their abilities. So to that end there's some things just for making sure your fetishes feel loved and happy. Most people just take them for a monthly visit to a Theurge to do it for them, but any self respecting mystic will want to eventually know all the tricks themselves." She grins at the lot and says, "Luna taught me how to be a cat, and I use that knowledge with deep respect and veneration, usually by throwing myself onto Irsa's face when she's trying to relax in Lupus. Cant let a sleeping wolf lie, you know? Gotta keep them kids on their toes!"
"Can definitely confirm as well,' Irsa adds to Mercy's remarks. "I wanted t' see if my Keys of Vision wanted to sit on a ring instead of in their bag th' other day. Nope! They kinda sulked 'til I put them back. I had to add a couple more decorations on 'em to make them happy again." She rolls her eyes at Mercy. "She was hangin' from my EARS," she grumbles.
Trey huhs, and considers this revelation about the nature of fetishes. "I don't know why that never occurred to me before. Of course, I'd want to do it myself. Asking someone else to do it seems, I dunno, kinda... lazy? No offense." He blinks, huhing at the tale about the keys, and then bursts out laughing at the story about Mercy becoming a cat, especially the 'ears' bit. "Kinda like that crab and my nose earlier."
George shrugs at Trey "Some folks, who aren't mystics, just don't have the knack to perform the proper rites. Now a smart wolf will do what they did and make a singular visit to a theurge and have them broker a deal for what they can do that the fetish will accept."
"Exactly like that!" Mercy agrees, and quickly fills George in, "He was getting fish for dinner earlier and caught a crab with his face. Lip and nostril, I think it was? Either way, that shit was hilarious. Being a cat is fun, but I cant speak the language to save my life. Miguel said he'd teach me, I just haven't gottem myself to sit still long enough to learn yet. I'm a *terrible* student, ask anyone." She nods her agreement at George as well, "Yeah, for Garou it makes sense to do it that way, but probably not at all for Bastet, I bet."
Irsa grunts at George. "That's the best way. I share a lotta stuff, but some things don't get taught to everyone. Like, I ain't teaching how to go about making Fetishes to irresponsible Garou. Or telling a cub how to wander off into the Umbra on their own. I reckon that's the same for most Shifters, though."
"I hadn't thought about it that way," Trey admits, and offers a sheepish expression. "You're right, it's the smart move to go the expert. Bastet aren't as specialized as the auspices are, so... yeah, what Mercy said. But... yeah, there are people who probably would misuse the... so yeah, *everyone's* got a point." He actually laughs at the description of the crab on his face. "Well, I went fishing face-first, so I guess I should have expected it. I could try to teach you Feline, if you wanted. It'd be a way to offer some payment in return for the lessons you're giving me."
"Hooray for points!" Mercy cheers, and then gives Trey a bow, "Sure! The more the merrier, because... sitting still and staying focused, not my strong suit. I'm already freakin out about having been sitting in the same spot for a couple hours. It's hell, I tell you!" She looks 'round the ol group and asks, "What's the coolest contraption you guys have ever seen?"
"A Fetish Tank," Irsa replies immediately. "Just a few weeks ago, too. Ran into th' damned thing durin' my Adren challenge. It belonged to a Bone Gnawer Ancestral pack in th' Battleground."
Trey says, “Coolest... huh. A Fetish tank? Like... mobile artillery, tank? Because my first thought was like a fish tank..." He huhs. "A *tank*..." He shakes his head, and then offers his contribution. "Well, I know someone who is trying to recreate the Batman suit with sorcery. She's had some good luck on the glider cloak, but the grapple gun kept shooting sideways into the Umbra." He's not kidding, but he does seem amused by it."
George grins broadly at the question and puts on a theatrical sounding compliment voice "Why your majestic space boat of course honored Elder." then he blinks at Irsa "A fuckin Tank? that sounds pretty cool." Then to Trey "Well its good to have goals."
"I knew a battle tank once, it was a super good dog." Mercy says with a fond grin. "A fetish fish tank would be amazing. I don't know what it would *do*, but still." She snerks at George and leans to shoulder bump. "Why thank you! You should see the orrery lately, it's still super empty but it's got a lot more spheres in place than it did a year ago." She laughs at Trey and says, "Oh goddess, imagine just being a spirit goose or something, flying, minding your own business and then wham! Grappling hook out of nowhere just launches in and wraps around you, and you're like NOOOO! I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!" while some crazy lady is climbing up to the second story of a building on a plane you cant even *see*!"
"If I'm lyin' I'm dyin'," Irsa says, crossing her heart. "A full-on motherfuckin' Sherman tank, I ain't even joking there. I was in th' Battleground to retrieve another, lesser Fetish from the pack's alpha. But that's a story for another day, I ain't gotta enough beer and time here for that." She grins at the account of the Batman suit. "Now that sounds amazing. I'd put Jackie into somethin' like that, but that ain't th' version of Batgirl she's going for."
Trey lets out a sad trombone noise to punctuate the failure of the batsuit. "Goals, yeah, I made her promise to show me how it worked when she figured it out." And then he loses it at the mental image of the spirit getting grapple-gunned right into the Umbra. For a few moments, he's lost in the image, and then he's goggling again about the Sherman. "Well, if I ever figure out the trick of it, or to be more precise, if my friend does, I'll let you know."
George just about dies laughing at Mercy, leaning into the bump, "Then she'd have to worry about getting cursed. You don't fuck with geese. You mess with the honk you get the bonk. For sure."
"HA!" Mercy is set laughing all over again at that rhyme. "Probably, I bet there's some kind of legend out there about not grappling geese in other dimensions lest you, like, get curse to drown in you soup one day or something." As Irsa gets called away by phone to handle something or another, she looks at the dudefolk and asks, "Well, shit, what now?"
Trey says, “Oh, I better warn her, then -- she better put some little life preservers in her soup from now on. Just in case she hit a spirit goose." Note, this is a group of *stone cold sober* people. Imagine them stoned. "Uh... good question. I'm still not going to bang that dragon.""
"Yeah probably a good plan." Mercy tells Trey, "I don't know how that would work, but I'm sure it'd get super complicated. Lemme see if I've got any good ideas in here..." she digs around for wherever her notebook ended up and starts flipping around through it, trying to find the It Thing of the evening.
George chuckles and shrugs as he looks up at the sky "Or the Racoon. Have you met Bronwyn yet? She hasn't been around as much lately but she can still be quite the experience. She once broke an Obstacle course challenge I set by turning into an orca. my own fault for only saying no shapes that could fly."
Trey says, “To say the least," he says with wry amusement. "Is it really worth the complications to people? I mean, without some kind of connection?" One shoulder raises in a half-a-shrug, easy and careless, and then he's onto the next thing... blinking at the story about the girl -- or Garou -- who turned to an Orca. "No shit? Wow." He hrms and says, "I need to start turning into cool shit too, or I'm going to run out of stories fast."
"Man, you gotta be *way* specific when talking to mad people!" Mercy laughs to George. She shrugs her shoulders at Trey and says, "No idea, I'm married and damaged so the normal-people concept of all that is way outside my understanding." She ah ha's at her notebook and asks the cat, "Have you seen the market place yet? I bet your leather works will find a real good place there."
Trey says, “The market place? Do you meant the faerie market? I heard there's one of those around here but--" He blinks, stops, and winces. "Er. I haven't seen it, in any case." He's telling the truth, but where the hell did that come from? He tries again, "I'm not sure what market place you mean. BUt I'd be happy to try and trade for things."
George blinks a couple of times "I'm pretty sure she doesn't mean the faerie market. Though if some fae had asked her 'can I have your attention' and she said sure that'd explain a lot."
"Theoretically I can see the fae dimension, but I don't remember what I've just seen, so I may as well not be able to at all, I suppose. It's weird, I always feel like I've got something on the tip of my brain." Iris says with a shrug. "But no, I meant the Gaian market. It's in the Harbor district, near the Dead Mall, where the Bone Gnawer colony is. You guys wanna do a tour?" she asks the men folks.
Trey says, “I'm convinced they did that to me, y'know," he replies to George, laughing softly. "And that's... well, I don't wanna say 'normal,' because nothing about the fae is normal, but forgetting is part of how they survive, just like fear blanks the minds of humans through the Delirium." He ohs and says, "Sure! Just let me actually put on my boots."
George nods and gets to his feet as he answers Mercy "Sure, I can have Rebiu open us a Sun-Bridge to near the Dead-mall." Then he explains to Trey "You've heard of Moon-bridges? Or Moon-paths? Its an Umbral Shortcut like that but he's a sun spirit."
"Sure!" Iris tells George while getting up to her feet and jamming her stuff into her Bigass Purse again. While Trey's gettin his shoes on and George is negotiating passage with sun spirits, she takes care of putting out the fire and making sure they don't burn down the whole damned island or something like that. Smokey Bear, you know.
