2023.04.26 BBQ? Nice to Meat You!
| 2023.04.26 BBQ? Nice to Meat You! | |
|---|---|
| BBQ and Introductions between Branton, Iris, Trey, and the new Shadow Lord Memo, along with an appearance by Irsa. | |
| IC Date | 04.26.23 |
| Players | Branton, Memo, Iris, Irsa, Trey |
| Location | Sept of the Enduring Spirit |
| Spheres | Garou, Bastet, Sorcerer |
Mystic Valley - Deep Forest(#1747RJU)
The forest floor of the Large Cavern begins to slope sharply downwards into a deep, subterranean valley, the pathway ages ago etched into long, wide steps worn by countless feet and paws over the years. The walls of this valley cavern are high and extremely steep volcanic rock and granite slabs, the ceiling of the cavern so high that the valley has taken on its own internal weather system. Hundreds of feet overhead, the vents and cracks allowing sunlight to filter through can no longer be seen, light spreading as though the valley were lit with a gentle and unseen underground sun of its own. Mist from underground streams and waterfalls create en endless cycle of clouds, brief rains, and evaporation into clouds again, while breezes from any number of caves and tunnels bring fresh air and move the clouds through their false sky.
The subterranean forest is thickest here, towering evergreen trees are dwarfed by the sheer size of the valley cave, weeping willows hang curtains of greenery over meandering streams and pools of mineral water. The steep, unclimbable valley walls are dotted with vines and bushes that have, against all odds, found purchase and growth potential. Stone pathways wend and meander through moss and wild grass along the valley, creating miles of walkways all throughout this sacred place.
A large central meadow has become a meeting point for the valley. Near enough to the Large Cavern's steeply stepped pathway and with wide stone avenues branching away to living areas, shrines, and the amphitheater. A well maintained seating area takes up the middle of the meadow, with a stone pit made for a large bonfire, several old logs and small boulders pulled up around it for comfortable seating. A large and ornately carved totem pole stands tall nearby, detailing the leadership of the Caern. Also nearby, a massive stone tablet jutting four feet out of the ground has inscribed upon its polished face the rules of the Caern, unmissable by anyone in the area.
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Mercy is teaching Pink and a few other kids Very Important Things, skills they will absolutely need to know if they're going to make it in the cut throat world of darkness we're all trapped in. Namely, juggling. She's just sorta letting them toss an extra thing into her mix - with warning of course - and is juggling sticks, apples, a fried chicken leg (from the delicious dinner makers of the caern), someone's shoe, just stuff like that. Excuse me, I meant to say, just Important Stuff like that. And she's doing pretty good, she's got some twining arcs happening, it's awesome.
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Trey approaches with a grin, sauntering along in the Peacock Pants, a knapsack over his shoulder and a couple of weapons peeking out. He watches the lesson with amusement; he's at best an amateur with juggling, even if it's kittens. Kittens must be juggled! Or something. In one hand is a chicken leg from the selfsame platter, and he nibbles at it with bright eyes.
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Branton is being good and not interfering in the Very Important Lesson by tampering with the arcs with his telekinesis though it has occurred to him more than once. Right now he's tending the pot of hot oil and frying...basically any proteins someone hands him. There's stuff breaded, stuff not, and everything from yard bird to tree rat. Trey gets a wave hello "How's it going?"
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"You know, if this wasn't the caern, I'd ask for some chain saws. I've always wanted to juggle chainsaws." Iris remarks to Branton while he makes things delicious and crispy. A toss from someone goes horribly awry and she takes a small apple to the forehead, causing the whole loop of juggling objects to obey a new, more terrible master: gravity. "AHHH!" she yells over dramatically as shoe, apples, sticks and etcetera come raining down on her, managing to catch a stick and hold it between her side and her arm. "AH THEY GOT ME!" she wails, going through massively theatrical death throws.
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Trey beams and waves cheerfully at Branton, peering into the pot with a curious eye. "How are you doing? I'm doing good, was actually working a little on those forms you taught me last night. Oh, man, is there rabbit? I like rabbit better than almost anything but fish." He looks over to Iris and is about to speak when she gets hit with a cascade of falling stuff. He reaches over to catch the other chicken leg in his free hand, and holds it out to Pink with a chuckle. "Dinner?"
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Branton grins as Pink goes for the offered meat and Branton nods to Trey "A bit yeah. And you should try some of the bacon nuggets. Wild boar belly dredged in flour and deep fried. Glorious." And Branton serves up a bit of each. Not a whole dinner of the rabbit but there's some around almost always "Wild Boar's an invasive species and an ecological disaster looking for a place to happen. So since the shifter community puts away a lot of calories in general and protein in particular they get to defend the environment and fill their smokehouses at the same time." When his mate 'dies' Branton deftly flips a sign from the side that says 'Juggling Lesson' to say 'Funeral feast' and keeps cooking without missing a beat.
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Some delightful kinfolk bring stuff like the bean salad, the taters that need cooking (precious) and stuff like that. There's snorts of laughter at Branton's sign flipping, because of COURSE he knew how the lesson was going to go! Iris, however, defies these expectations, calling out weakly, "I'm not quite dead yet!" And Pink, while noming a chicken leg, says, "Yes you are!" Mercy complains, "I'm not!" And Pink insists, "You'll be stone dead in a minute!" Iris, again in the dramatically weak voice, "I feel happyyyyyyy!" If you can’t Monty Python with your family, then who can you Monty Python with.
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Trey ooohs. "Bacon nuggets, that sounds amazing." He takes the plate with the samples of everything, and looks utterly content, finding himself a spot to 'mourn' with his plate and a beer from a six pack in his backpack, passing bottles to all comers, starting wth Branton if he wants one. Hey, if they're old enough to fight the Wyrm, they're old enough for a beer. “There's a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Mostly dead is slightly alive. With all dead, well, with all dead there's usually only one thing you can do.” Okay, it ain't Monty Python, but it'll do.
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Branton nods sagely at Trey, honoring his contribution and the gift of beer "Go through their pockets and look for loose change." His mate and child's performance gets a snicker and a "Time for a meal break?"
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Iris sits up with an interested look on her face and asks, "Does it make me undead if I die and then get up to eat chicken?" She does sound SOMEwhat concerned about this, she'd really hate to be a zombie, or a chickenpire.
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Trey is about to do just that, but decides that anything he finds in Mercy's pockets might actually try to eat him. He laughs and considers this question from Iris with both brows raised. "I... huh. No, I think we decided you were only *mostly* dead, so you're not an undead thing. Though if you start craving brains, we may have to reconsider it." He looks over at the younger Garou and incants, "BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAINS." Then he takes a bite of the pork belly with a slurping noise, trying to do his best zombie impression.
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Branton beckons to Pink and holds out a plate "Funerary offering for the nearly deceased" and the boy nods and carries it back over solemnly to offer it to his momma. Branton turns to Trey "The best part is, we're frying in rendered lard from one of those boars so technically this is pork confit. Sort of."
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Trey ohs and says, "Is that what a confit is? Today I learned. I just know it's friggin' delicious." He takes a swallow of the beer and makes a happy noise. "I gotta wonder how many of these kids will actually pick up the juggling. Might prove useful, someday. You never know." He's at least half-serious, there. "So how do they make pork rinds?"
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Branton grins at Trey "Well technically Confit is anything cooked slowly in liquid to preserve it, in modern usage though its almost always a meat cooked in the rendered fat of the same animal. Now Pork rinds are just the skin, often the skin that's been trimmed off of pork belly so I'm sure one of these fine young people will go get some from where the kills were being processed. Just the skin mind, with outer layer taken off and the fat peeled mostly off." That last bit was a quick aside to a one of the local youngsters that had been feasting but Branton turns back to Trey "There's a drying step, you cook them on a baking sheet on a low heat to very slowly render out what fat remains and dry them out but then once that's done we throw the chunks in the oil and they poof to glorious crispyness." Branton is by the fire where a frying station is set up and a number of the local kinfolk and other npc hunters of the sept have brought him bits of meat and produce to fry in the pot of hot fat he has simmering away.
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Branton's mate, Mercy's Messenger is sitting off to the side amidst the clutter of an abandoned juggling lesson with their son Pink, an adolescent male with Vitiligo.
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"Yeah, but isn't mostly sort of un?" Iris asks Trey, really invested in finding out if she's TECHNICALLY undead or not. "Man, English is so weird. For the longest time I thought if you lost your member ship to a place that you'd been dismembered. I also thought the numbers on houses were their phone numbers too, though. Thank you, my dear." she adds to the vitiligo skinned kid that hands her a plate of dinner. She makes a wanting sound and says, "I know I shouldn't but goddess I love pork rinds. They're murder on my mouth, but still."
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Memo strolls in clutching a sketch pad and some graphite, pausing intermittently to touch something up on the paper. The Shadow Lord ambles almost entirely to the group without noticing, at least his sudden start suggests. He holds up his hands to communicate he poses no threat, slowly closing the cover on the pad and sheathing the graphite through the coil binding it.
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Trey ahhhs, and notes, "At some point I need to learn how to cook in a way that's more than 'put dead thing on fire and add some herbs.' It's not hard to learn, I'm told, just follow the recipes from the book." He listens to the description of exactly what pork rinds are, completely ungrossed-out. "Pork rinds are something I discovered while hitching a ride from Florida to Alabama with this tough old bird, drove a tractor trailer. She ate pork rinds and drank black coffee all the way there. She had skin like a used leather sofa." He considers the question from the mock-dead-but-only-mostly Iris, and starts to laugh at the dismemberment concept. Then he offers a wave to the new arrival, calling out, "Evening!"
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Branton grins at Trey "She sounds like quite the character." Then to Mercy "Tasty suffering for Gaia." Then to Memo "Evening! Need something to eat? there's plenty."
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"Pffft." Iris adds constructively, "That's as much cooking as I know how to do!" She did things smart though, and married someone with actual skill in the kitchen, saving her from having to learn! She waves a bacon nugget at Memo and says, "Hey, food's ready if you're hungry." with a welcoming smile. "I have no idea if we've met before or not." At least she's up front about her scattered brain.
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Memo nods at Trey, seeming to relax slightly at a semi-familiar face. The baby Shadow Lord rises slightly on the balls of his feet to peak at the fare, looking to Branton with a respectful tilt of his head he responds, "Thank you, I appreciate that." and closes the distance between himself and the group.
Once he has joined the others and has had a moment to consider Iris' introduction he shakes his head apologetically. "No ma'am I do not believe we have. I am called Whispers Best Forgotten, a cliath Shadow Lord born under the light of the Gibbous Moon. I am without a pack though Iron Flail-rhya has allowed me to stay while I reconcile that. I am human born and those outside the People call me Guillermo.", he bows a little at the end to indicate he is done.
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Trey says, "Oh, she was, but she was nice enough to give me a ride in exchange for nothing but telling stories, so I was happy enough. I did buy her dinner, though." He grins. "But if prey wasn't meant to be eaten, why does it taste like meat?" He ohs at Iris and says, "But you know how to make all kinds of other things. Huh." He contemplates the idea of finding his own Kinfolk for a moment, and then realizes the Shadow Lord has approached. He's about to do introductions, but the cliath beats him to it. "Point of manners -- is it rude for me to introduce a Garou or should I let them do it themselves?"
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Branton nods in respect to Memo's introduction then gives Trey's question a head-tilt "Could go either way. If you're ever not sure then wait for them to speak for themselves. It’s almost always safer." Then back to Memo "I'm Branton Kholer, kinfolk to the Black Fury tribe, Spouse of Elder Theurge Iris 'Mercy's Messenger' Tiganites, Klaive-smith, Pyrokinetic, and Sorcerer-Shaman in the service of Hecate, the Mother of Spells and Lady of the Crossroads." When Branton says his mates name he gestures over in her direction "And that fine young man is Pink Floyd Tiganites, Metis born galliard cub."
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"If you're talkin' about me, go ahead, I don't care!" Iris says, ahh the joys of spurning tradition and propriety without worry! "You did come up with the coolest name last, which means you're in charge this week, so." But ha! Branton beats Trey to it, and she waves in a little 'ta da!' way when she's named. Pink Floyd also waves when introduced, but his mouth is full of food, so he stays quiet. Still, she pokes Trey in the ribs, going for the ticklish spots to prod him into Magnificent Introductions anyways.
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Trey chuckles and squirms as he's poked by the Elder Fury, and returns the pokes with aplomb, then says, "Oh, fine... since I'm technically alpha at the moment..." He motions to Iris and says, "Iris Mercy's-Messenger Tiganites, as her mate said. Elder Black Fury Theurge, sailor of Umbral skies and seas, explorer of places innumerable, Maker of wondrous fetishes, teacher of wolves and cat alike, and packmate to me in our ever-changingly named pack, currently called Pluto's Prancing Pantaloons. Since we are under the totem of the planet Pluto." He grins and motions to the elder Fury, adding, "Oh, and I forgot 'bearer of wondrous wings.'"
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Memo nods as the introductions unfold, when Branton mentions his profession Memo's face twists, for just a moment into a mournful frown. The expression is retracted quickly, the Galliard seems inclined to keep his cards close to his chest as it were but something someone might note. He smiles softly at the Galliard cub, an unpracticed but nonetheless sincere display. "Very nice to meet you all," he pauses in particular to acknowledge the elder, "Mercy's-Messenger-rhya.".
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Branton knew she didn't care, that's why he went ahead and did. Formal Introductions are his favorite thing, not hers. As for Memo, secrets unspoken are gracefully glossed over especially since he mentioned a number of professions so there'd need to be prying for clarification (even though it was probably the Klaivesmith part). Branton turns to Trey "And he already knows you so you don't have to introduce yourself." A plate is piled up with an assortment of floured and deep fried bits of meat, mostly wild boar but there's some chicken, rabbit, and squirrel as well. That plate is offered to Memo "There's also some cut up fresh vegetables and a small pot of baked beans if you want some sides. The cornbread should be about ready too."
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"It's for the best, lest I get an ego." Iris assures Trey. In the same vein, she waves a hand and tells Memo, "Iris is fine. Have a seat! How long ya been in town, how are you getting along, have you found a place to call home yet, and all those so on and so forths?" she asks companionably, shoving her glasses up the bridge of her nose and bacon into her mouth while the new fellow gets plated up.
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Trey nods. "Precisely. Plus, I have the memorability advantage of being not-a-wolf among a whole lot of wolves. Memorability -- that IS a word, right? I think so." He shrugs. "Well, it is now." He goes up to snag some of the sides as well -- he doesn't *just* eat meat in this form -- and lets Iris ask her questions, taking his moments to enjoy dinner and his beer. He offers one toward Memo also -- a small batch bottle from a local brewer of good repute.
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Memo accepts the plate with a simple, "Thank you" before adding the aforementioned sides. He finds an unobstrusive spot to sit and enjoy his meal. At Iris's question he takes a moment to consider, "I sleep within the Bawn as much as the Warder allows. It's been some weeks but I believe I am adjusting well enough. I have not been to the city as much as I think I should have but it's no small journey and Gaia bid me here not there.". Memo accepts the beer with a nod, taking some time to admire the label before taking a drink.
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Branton grins and nods to Trey before listening to Memo "Well there are a number of the local garou with holdings closer to or even within the city. In fact, there's a couple of cliath Glasswalkers called the Frog Brothers that you could maybe reach out to if you head that way."
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"Of course it is, you just said it." Iris insists regarding whether memorability is a word or not. She nods her agreement to Branton and says, "They're on the beach I think right over by us, and the Mist Seeker pack is... North-central of the harbor district? I may or may not be right. Close to the Dead Mall Bone Gnawer colony, and the Craftsman's Guild. Fun place if you like shopping or crafting things, great market place for finding components and talens."
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Trey nods and says, "the Frog Brothers are good dudes. And Mistseekers -- you met Irsa and Jackie last night, they're both part of that pack. Irsa's the alpha." He says, "I think it really depends what you have at your disposal for resources and what you need. The apartments here aren't really great places from what I've seen, though -- noisy, crowded, kinda smelly, and all those people on top of one another."
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Memo looks at Branton incredulously, "Frog Brothers? As in the Lost Boys? I'll...consider that thank you." he mulls that over between bites. "I believe I have met the tribal alpha of the Bone Gnawers recently. The Mist Seekers are her pack yes? I am also unfamiliar with the..Craftsman's Guild? But I will keep an eye out. Talens are..sold there?". He nods happily at Trey's confirmations, "Thank you.". He sips his beer, regarding it again before continuing, "I am to understand some of my tribe's kin have a variety of holdings in the city as well?".
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Branton waggles a hand back and forth at Memo "There's some yeah, mostly they keep to themselves though so its hard to say exactly how many. Black Stag Forge is the place to check in though. As for the Guild, its kind of a barter economy not like actually shopping with currency. Though if someone needs to do a deal to make rent you can usually find someone willing to cut a check."
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"Yeah, you're not going to find anything MASSIVE there, but maybe someone makes way more healing tonics than they need, or someone else went to Greenland and brought back some particular lichen that potion makers need, or... whatever." It's mainly just a handy way to get a hold of non exotic spell components or minor talens or whatevers when you don't have a theurge besty to make them. Someone still has to do the rolls and the request but it's a good IC explanation for things. And also a fun place to RP. "The Black Stag Forge is up in the north eastern part of town, a few blocks away from the Glass Walker's 'Tech Haven'. That's a community garden and discharged veteran's zen rehab kind of thing. With a shit load of tech in the basement. The forge is a forge, though, has a public shop and stuff." She totally nods her agreement with Trey's thoughts on apartments. "The Silent Striders have a bunch of rental houses though for people in need, you could chat with them if you want a city home."
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Trey offers, with helpfulness, "It's been my understanding that it's less separated by tribe here as far as people helping one another out than it is in most places. I don't have a lot of experience with septs, but that's been what I've been able to gather." He offers a smile and tips up his beer bottle for a sip, chasing down the last of the food on his plate.
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Memo "Hmmm"s" as he listens doing his best not to let the tasty food distract him from the details. He seems surprised at Iris' last contribution, "The Silent Striders have homes here? Curious.". He slowly chews his next mouthful soaking up Trey's words, "Are there many cats here? Or are you alone in that regard?".
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Branton nods at Memo "And the Black Furies do too. At least I have a number of rental holdings and safe houses scattered about the city. I'm one of those fuckers with more money than sense. A lot of my enchantment and alchemy doesn't use anything that risks the Veil so I was allowed to maintain my business ties to some folks outside the Nation. It’s almost like a license to print money."
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Iris nods her confirmation, and explains, kinda, "Have them, if not use them. There's some kin and a few Strider Garou that have roots regardless of travel regularity, some have ended up in the same financial state as him," she hooks a thumb towards Branton, "And have used some of that money to snag homes for their own tribe members passing through with a need for a safe, soft bed. And then of course other people that just have a need and really don't want to or just plain shouldn't be dealing with human land lords." She ALSO nods at Trey, "Yeah, the whole... tribe versus tribe thing here has its mellowness maintained and enforced. No Get or Furies stabbing each other, Bone Gnawers don't get guff, my weird Metis kid gets to be a weird Metis kid without getting swirlies or anything. It's nice, more energy put towards exploring cool places and wrecking the bad guys."
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Trey nods at the question from Memo, noting, "A few. You might see one or two of them around the sept from time to time. I know about three others. We're all different tribes, though. My tribe tends to be in cold places, usually, so finding Qualmi in a place like this is unusual. I don't know of any of my tribe's kin anywhere near here." He adds, ruefully, "I'm the bottom cat rank-wise though. Of course, at the moment, I technically outrank an elder in our pack, so there's that." That brightens his smile a bit.
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Memo looks confused as he scrapes the remainder round his plate. "It's strange to see a place untouched by the war, by history. Certainly something to celebrate." he says the last bit clearly trying to internally reconcile the facts he's been offered. He looks between Iris and Trey a moment before responding to the Lynx shifter, "Do the cats have many tribes? Or holdings I should be aware? I would not want to wander idly into another's rightful territory.".
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Branton nods at Memo and grins "Well, its not entirely untouched you understand but a number of the senior members of the various kinds have taken the deliberate stance of 'not fucking here'. As my mate said, the idea is that we've got better ways to spend our time and energy than on each other so flare ups of tension tend to get...seen to with a quickness."
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"It's pretty weird." Iris agrees, "Yeah, the elders around here and the ones before them just figured out that we're being pawns and patsies with the blah blah tribal infighting stuff. Cant very well fight the forces of evil when you're worried about whether the person next to you is selling your secrets or if they're gonna sucker punch you later for some vague reason because you're some 'lesser city mongrel' or whatever. Past is past, let it rest and move the fug on, you know? Make friends with a cat instead! Form a pack called Pluto's Plumpest Pumpkin Pickers and make a plan to go to the moon on a magic boat with a swashbuckling magic kinfolk, and eat *nothing* but marshmallows for two days straight so that you're all limber for a pending fight with a super bendy Plastic Elemental that went Bane!"
She shrugs at the other question and after some thought offers, "Well there's Sunhome out in the desert, Mokole run but racially inclusive. The Temple of Bast is obviously cat territory but again, visit if you wanna. Circle of the Mother is nature zone, also outside of town, maintained by the fera but visit if you want, and as with any place, be respectful and pick nup your trash. There's others, but I don't really *know* them."
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Trey shakes his head. "It's been more than touched by it, but... I think pragmatism wins out here." Probably not a topic that Trey would prefer to discuss around a whole septload of wolves, but truth will out from the big-mouthed cat. "There's some of your folk I wouldn't be so friendly with. There are others who've become some of the closest friends I have. It's... again, partly pragmatism, and partly the fact that cats tend to be pretty motivated by who we are as individuals."
He hrms, and nods. "Nine tribes of us, for all of the different kinds of big cats. Though Lynx only qualify as such by technicality. Holdings... well, I haven't come across any formal territory that needs avoiding." He motions to what Branton says and points. "That. People still do stupid shit, don't think they don't, but it gets handled. Pronto."
And Iris describes their pack life, more or less, and he points. "That. Except the marshmallow part. Sunhome is a nice place to visit, the kinfolk there are very welcoming. The Temple... I've been there, but it doesn't get a lot of traffic these days that I've seen."
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Memo he stares at Branton a moment, appearing to decide whether or not to say something. In the end he decides not it seems and turns his attention to the Elder. Casting his gaze to the ground he says, "I do not wish to appear in challenge of the status quo. Nor denigrate these many victories in diplomacy. I'm just a cliath but I am a Galliard so I feel the heat of Rage, I know our history was not driven by mere pettiness, nor our internal conflicts. I have often heard in my travels Den Parents asking the cubs, "When will you Rage?". It never occurred that a sept, certainly not a multi tribal Sept would state, "We will not.". I'm eager to study the phenomenon and see why Gaia led me here.".
There is a little smile trying to hide in the corner of the Shadow Lord's mouth as he nods approvingly of Trey's shrewd response. "Well I look forward to learning about that stupid shit. I...I think I would prefer not to bother the other Fera, even if the Sept itself is on amicable terms with them. I would not want my tribe to affront anyone on it's own.". His eyes drift upward as he internally reviews what he said before nodding to him.
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Branton grins at Trey "The plastic bane might be yet to come. Sometimes we get our plans and after action reports out of order." to Momo he grins broadly "That's the thing. We still Rage. Quite a lot. Why just a few nights ago my mate set herself on fire and dropped two stories into the middle of a cultist dark magic ritual circle and made quite the messy spectacle. The important distinction is that it’s saved for where it will do more good than harm."
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"I have theories about the nature of Prospect as it pertains to the strange state of the place," Iris muses over a bit of beans, "We're not the only creatures that flock here, there's quite a population of... well, everything, it seems. I'm of a mind about an as yet unknown, undiscovered spirit or concentration of energies within the land the city is built on that calls we strange, inhuman things to it. Why? Dunno. It's a theory in progress."
She snorts a laugh and says, "That was so much fun. I swear, I only *meant* to stomp around and be like 'raaaaaar!', you know, support the rest and look cool while doing it. I really did not realize that one guy was a Black Spiral Dancer till he got up and went all wiggly in the skin area. It was so much fun, but I'm so mad at myself for stealing what should probably have been someone else's fun."
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Trey ohs and notes, "There is also a wild big cat preserve and sanctuary called Kitten Itza not too far from here, it's open to Gaians. Owned by one of my folk, I might note. But not open to the public, luckily." He considers what Memo says, and answers with seriousness. "Well, your folk are The Mother's Rage, and that is sacred. But it is also a claw with two edges, and too far into Rage without Honor or Wisdom lies the way of the Beast-of-War, or what we cats call Asura. Among the catfolk, we tell tales of the kitten who is all claws and teeth and no purrs. That kitten finds little of the Mother's joy in life, and forgets his role that She chose for him." A pause. "Of course, my folk are her Eyes, her observers and spies. Different roles, but sometimes, they overlap. And sometimes the teaching tales do, as well."
And then he's grinning again at Branton's remark, and notes, "Ah, that's it. I'm living tomorrow right now, tomorrow I'm working on last Thursday." And then he's talking about the cultists, and Trey grins more broadly. "That was some fight! Don't downplay your skewering of what, four, five of those guys? Without a scratch on you?" He looks at Iris and says, wryly, "Oh, there's plenty of Wyrm for all of us, unfortunately."
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Memo takes a short breath and simply remarks, "Certainly." He squints a little and glances in the general direction of Prospect once he processes Iris' theory, frowning for a moment. The Shadow Lord leans towards Trey once he speaks nodding several times in agreement or encouragement. He sets the empty plate to the side and eyes the bottom of his beer, "This was delicious, thank you again.".
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"Got some thoughts on your mind, Guillermo?" Iris asks while setting her own empty plate aside and leaning back on her hands, "Feel free to opine and question, if you're thinking some deep thoughts about things."
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Branton nods in agreement with his mate and Trey "It was a heck of a fight, and sure if you hadn't been there someone else would have gotten to the spiral but they would not have looked nearly so awesome doing it." Looking over to Pink he adds "I think I'm going to get the boy tucked in, you can stay and chat with the new person if you want of course."
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"Night, Branton, Pink," Trey says to them both, fingerwaving amiably. The Qualmi sits back, falling silent to allow Iris to do one of the things she does best -- teaching. He's not going to offer input just now; this is more a Garou matter, he seems to think, and he's filled with good food and a good mood, and taking in some wisdom is always welcome.
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Memo shakes his head and drops his eyes again in a brief but direct display of submission toward the elder, "It's nothing Mercy's-Messenger-rhya. I am confident there are no deep thoughts rooted here at the moment.". He waves to the departing, smiling politely as they go.
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Iris makes grabby hands at her menfolk and smooches everyone, even Pink, whether he likes it or not. As a mom, it is her holy duty to embarrass him with affection. "I'll be home in a bit, I might do some cargo unloading first though." Back to Memo she nods and says, "Iris." as a gentle reminder that he doesn't have to be formal with her. She's too weird for that. "Well, if you think up something, know that it's fine to open your mouth. This ain't the Carpathians, you're not gonna end up with a broken jaw for asking questions or having thoughts you wanna share. So, what do you like to do for fun? Do you have a craft you enjoy doing, favorite author, you into movies or anything?"
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Memo repeats, "Iris, of course." showing he understands. "Is it like that? I hope to visit one day. Jaw intact I hope.". The baby Shadow Lord furrows his brow as he considers the line of questions. "I mean the Curse being what it is I don't get to do stuff that I normally would enjoy. I haven't seen a movie in a theater in like forever. So I pour myself into work." he pauses to gesture generally around the area to emphasize. "I do like to read. I'm cycling through Palahnuik right now.".
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"Mmmm..." Iris begins, wobbling her head side to side, "I'm sure it's not ALL like that, but I swear every time we get a Shadow Lord from the homeland, they bring some baaaaad habits with them that kinda perpetuate the stereotypes about Shadow Lords in a bad way. BUT, it's an outsider's view of things, and I know that's a bit of a hellish area as is, what with the vampires and all the usual human warfare. I'll take you over there some time, if you're interested. I mean, maybe we won’t actually drop in on a sept without some serious research into where to go, but the area? Heck yeah. My totem demands a LOT of travel, so seriously, if you ever want to go somewhere, come ask, there's like a ninety eight percent probability that I'll drop everything for a trip, and I'm loaded with ways to make traveling fast and safe. But, maybe you wanna get to know me and make sure I don't strand you in the mountains. So let me take you to the movies first. There's a theater with a bit of an attic loft in it for crap they don't need out, excellent for watching without paying or bothering people. Or barring that, Branton bought me a laptop and I don't really use it for anything other than movies. Got the whole MCU on there!"
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Memo the offers evokes the most animated stance the young Galliard has taken yet, "That sounds amazing Iris...rhya. I'd love to hear the Margrave speak in person one day. It's on my bucket list.". He settles down right after giving a half shrug, "Just different than GOING to the theater. I do miss that vibe.". Guillermo pauses to consider something just before he speaks again, "May I ask which totem that is?".
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"The totem that Trey and I follow is named Meros," Iris says, scooting forward because we're talking about vibes and travels and bucket lists, and these are all rooms on her wheel house, so to speak. "He is the Celestine of the planet Pluto, greater patron to the Silent Strider tribe and the Philodox auspice, a wanderer by trade and the grandfather of death. My folk, the Greek, call him Hades, but he's a bit more of a broad character than just that. He is quite possibly the nicest, most mellow guy I've ever met in my entire life, I'll introduce you to the shard avatar that follows Trey and I around some time, if you like."
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Memo vainly tries to keep his mouth bobbing agape like a stunned fish. After a moment he blinks and sputters out, "Um sure..that would be awesome.". Looking around he mentions, "This seems to be a beacon to the wandering. Has it always been your home base so to speak?".
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"Nope, just for the last, I dunno, six years? Five years? Something like that." Iris answers, "I came here from Maine, no real reason why other than 'Gaia sent me here'. It's part of the theory I'm working on, not a lot of people really know why they're here other than 'Gaia sent me'. Curious, isn't it?"
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Memo tilts his head to the side in agreement, "There is no denying that this is a curious place. I also do not deny the Mother's hand in my own coming. But I did speak to some Galliards in septs north of here and heard it was one of the larger protectorates on the coast. My last pack dissolved so I hope a dense population might help me find a new one. I also hoped for a denser tribal population but...", pausing again to look around, almost as if for someone not a something. "Maybe I'm just not looking in the right places?".
Irsa has arrived.
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"Eh, maybe, or maybe you're a forerunner of your tribe that ends a lull in their presence." Iris says, working on that whole silver lining thing. She's talking to Memo over near the cook fires, empty dinner plates set aside. "There's peaks and valleys for all of us at different times, it seems. Some days we've got Furies coming out of the wood work, other days there's only two to be found in all the forest. Don't let the lack drive you away though, otherwise the lull continues."
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Memo holds up his hands reassuringly, "I have no intention to leave because of that. It was just a hope. I was spoiled in my last sept. I promise it's not an issue. Speaking of though..may I ask if the Sept has a Keeper of the Land or at least someone tasked to maintaining the memorials for the dead here? Perhaps your pack?".
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Irsa steps across from the Umbra, having travelled the moon paths to reach this sacred place. She rubs her eyes tiredly, grunting a bit as she spots figures around the cookfires. Fantastic, she's in need of food herself. She tromps in that direction, snuffling up all those savory scents. "Heya. What's th' word?" she greets the others, as she scavenges a plate for herself.
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"Nnnnnnot officially, actually." Iris says with a bit of thought about that. "George does some maintenance of the catacombs, I join him as well sometimes since my particular camp has some associations with the dead lands, but mostly he handles that, I think. Uh, Mocks the Dark, Elder Silent Strider Ragabash, that's George. As for the living land, no, I don't think there's anyone with that particular duty. I have actually waffled a lot about challenging for the position, but I'm honestly not sure if I *should*, given the amount of travel I need to do."
Mercy ALSO totally greets Irsa when she comes by, "Hey! There's still some fried stuff and bean salad, if you're hungry. How's stuff?" she asks her fellow mystic while she grubs up.
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"Th' usual. Runnin' my ass off since b'fore noon," Irsa replies. "There's a lotta work in runnin' a Tribe, who knew?" She grins as she snags a fork and digs into her food. "So, I see ya met th' new Thunder dude," she says after Memo heads out. "What do ya think of him so far?"
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"Nice kid, respectful and not a braggy douche, so so far I like him!" Mercy answers with a grin. "I promised to take him to the movies some time soon. I want to get you back to Rajasthan sometime soon as well, if you wanna forge those connections between here and there. You know, in case you ever feel like you aren't working ENOUGH." she adds with a laugh.
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Irsa grins at the Elder. "Yeah, he seemed all right. Acted a bit harried when I met him last night, but that ain't unusual for his Tribe's cliaths. Good manners, too. I mean t' ask him if he'd met any of the Elders yet, but didn't get th' chance." She digs into her meal hungrily. "For that, I'll make time. Worth it, t' know I got things all in line for when I gotta make that final trip. Plus, that place is amazin', and we didn't t' try much of the food."
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"Well... And honestly it's just good all around." Mercy agrees, "I mean Gnawers get around about as much as the Striders do, so you'll likely have a chance to make tribal connections as well as Emerald Court connections by way of the Gnawers and Ratkin. And... Be careful. The other side of the world is different, eastern rats aren't like western rats, but our bullshit still absolutely hurt them. I wouldn't take you there or drop you off if I was worried they might chew your face off or anything, it's just that *that* particular place, that temple, it's a lot like Prospect, with a lot of historical determination and religion to be different."
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Irsa listens closely to the advice and nods, filing it away in her neat little cabinet of mental notes. "I'll definitely be careful. I gotta spend some time learnin' the laws and customs, and I definitely need t' learn th' local languages. Which ones should I be focusin' on?" she asks.
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"Hindi is the most common," Iris answers, "English and Urdu second most common. Mostly Hindi, though. The dominant religion is Hinduism, obviously. There's a caste system that still survives there, the Brahmin on top, the mystics, and the untouchables at the bottom. Pretty unfortunately but probably not going to culture shock you at all. Do some googling, watch some YouTube videos, it's not all that alien, really."
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"I can do that," Irsa replies. "Hindi ain't gonna be too hard t' find a teacher. We've got a couple of local Gnawers that're Frankweilers, if they don't know it they can put me in touch with folks."
