2018.12.16: Orrery Adventures: Eshtarra (P3)

Adventures in Orrery Making: Eshtarra (pt.3)
A journey to Eshtarra's Glade to pay respects and request a pure stone.
IC Date	December
IC Time	Afternoon
Players	Pancake Branton Isla Jes
Location	Antarctica
Prp/Tp	Adventures in Orrery Making: Eshtarra (pt.3)
Spheres	Gaian

Sleeping and waking was MUCH better in an environment that's not freezing fucking cold. It's a boost to moral and spirits, surely, and being as how nothing has tried to eat them yet, it was a good environment for stock-taking. Just taking a day going through food reserves, purifying some more water, and getting their fur suits all packed up and so on. Not to mention figuring out which way to *go*. The vegetation thickens into a real jungle 'over there', so that's at least one option.

Once they've packed their shit up and are ready to go in some direction or another, Iris has prepared herself for going full nerd, with her note pad and pencil ready, flashlight in hand. "Okay, I'm ready, sorry! I wanted to get that plant drawn in case we didn't see another one like it."

Branton grins at Iris and shrugs "We're not on a particular timetable. We've even got a good span of days before we have to seriously considering supplementing what food we're carrying in. Though we're likely to get sick of MREs long before that."

Jes has foregone his wrinkled-ass tux in favor of more sensible exploring clothes today, and is repacking all of his gear to make sure it's secure and to get rid of any excess junk in order to lighten the load and better ready himself for whatever the fuck awaits in the Hidden World. He's been chatty and cheerful all morning, smoking cigarettes and eating and getting things ready, "If we run out of food, I'll go kill some of my subjects for a cookout," he offers, checking his pack over yet again to ensure it's ready.

Isla has packed up her part of camp, everything neat, tidy, and she is ready to go in her exploring gear. "So, inquiring minds want to know - do yer subjects taste like chicken?" She laughs a bit and puts her bag on her back. "May be we adapt to eat the vegetation here even. Although guessing ye all will find a way to smoke it too." She shrugs and is ready to head out. She asks, "Which direction we going? Do ye have a general sense of anything beyond - not here?"

"Good point." Iris says with a sage nod to Branton, "Although I did kinda like that Stroganoff one. And all the jokes that come with it. It's like a comedy show dinner in a box!" A snort-laugh then to Jess as she says, "I don't think there's any penguins down here though, are there? ...Although that would be rad." Damn it! She's absorbing their dialect! "No natives though! We gotta like... preserve the *fuck* out of this little ecosystem." She shrugs though to Isla and tells her, "Well, there's thicker jungle that'a'ways, and that's following signs of life, right? More growth, more Gaia, I figure?"

Branton chuckles and nods at Iris "Fair enough. Take only photos, leave only footprints. Except we didn't bring cameras and we're trying not to step on anything. The point stands though." Then he considers "This is where I'd usually google what Penguin tastes like, its gotta be written down somewhere."

"Fine, fine, but if it tries to kill me first it's fair game, literally," Jes retorts with a wave of his cigarette to Iris, rolling his eyes. "I don't wanna extinctify the Secret Garden, either, but I'm not sure what Hungry Sullivan is gonna say to that." The Ragabash takes a drag on his cigarette, looking over to Branton, and comments, "I looked it up. Some sort of mix of beef and duck and codfish and stuff. It sounded... weird. Not so weird I wouldn't eat one, but weird." Isla laughs. "Sorta like Haggis. Got to try it at least once." She looks forward toward the thicker jungle. "Depending how thick that is, we might have to break a few branches. We can try not to, but who knows what we will come across." Turning her head toward them all, "Ready to shove out?"

"I've got my phone! I've been waiting for a good group photo oportunity." Iris tells Branton with a grin. "Gotta preserve that battery life." She gives Jes a funny look, and asks, "Who's Hungry Sullivan?" At Isla's suggestion, she starts walking! It's not *so* dark that seeing is super difficult, but it's all twilight, and Iris still flips on her flashlight so she wont stomp on or trip over anything.

Branton nods and shrugs at the mention of the taste, chatting some as the group starts moving "So the usual problem with game birds, its super greasy and the fat's going to taste strongly of what it eats mostly. So fish. And while poultry they're usually slow moving so slow twitch muscles are dark meat more like beef. Guess that makes sense. Probably low heat roast for best prep then, render more of the fat out."

"Me with an empty stomach and the bad mood that comes along with it," Jes replies to Iris with a smirk around his cigarette. "Sullivan's my given name. Sully Queenan. 'Jes' is just short for Death's Jester."

He sidles up by Branton, grinning broadly, and says, "See, that's the kind of know-how and practical knowledge I like to hear! Got just the right guy to cook us up a penguin, ladies. I wonder if any of the plant life around here is edible and palatable enough for herb seasoning?"

Isla walks along now, leading the group. "We take that 'groupie' pic when we get to our target. Goals!" She just shakes her head hearing the conversation. "Well, figures the fire guy's a cookin' guy too. Perhaps kabobs would be best." A look back to Jes, "Personally, I prefer calling 'im Sprinkles. Since that was his most strikin' feature when we first met. Save the Sullivan for when it's either serious or fer his mama to yell at 'im when he's in trouble."

"I'm horrified yet intrigued." Iris says at this weird but totally reasonable explanation of penguin's probable taste and texture. "I heard koalas are just *awful* for that same reason. Just like, totally chalked full of eucalyptus to overwhelming degrees, and then their little pudge bodies are like meh-beef." While they're walking along and talking about how stuff tastes, the jungle grows thicker and various tropical-ish birds with interesting plumage keep flying off to keep away from the trespassers. "Yeah I think I just always assumed your name *was* Jes. I'm also certain you probably told me otherwise once, but, pfft! Like I'm gonna remember something kind of important."

Now, totally bending reality a bit to believe that the troupe has wandered quite a ways during their talk of names and food... Their general sort of wandering through 'pathways' between plants and rocks and junk eventually leads them to a small clearing. It's heavily overgrown but still a 'clearing' basically, free of stones and large trees, with an overgrown and weed covered jumble of cut wood.

Branton nods at Jes "Something related to onion or garlic would probably be best. I've got bits and pieces I can rig into something like a turnable spit. Skewers would probably work easier." Then he grins at Isla "Really what it comes down to is that my element is one of change. Raw materials to finish products, ingredients to food, enemies to charcoal." He looks around at the clearing and frowns slightly "That was not me, I swear."

"You were probably busy mixing goop at the time. 'Sprinkles' is for the freckles you've all seen, and 'Peach' for the perfect heart-shaped ass of hers that... yeah, same," Jes replies with a wink to Isla, shaking his head. "It was what got me to follow her in the first place. I figured if she was gonna take charge, I might as well get behind her, because the view was epic. So, /so/ glad there's no sub-clause in the Litany about spank banks." He blows smoke out of his nose, then winks -- at /Iris/ -- and pulls out... a compass. "So, we're not /at/ the South Pole, just /close/; I know that knocks a bit out of this thing, but it should still point us roughly the right way toward where we're headed, yeah? Which... wait, is there a fucking lumberjack down here?"

Isla stops them behind her. "Someone has been here. They may not be tidy, but someone lives here. Be careful, watch everywhere. There could be traps." She says quietly. "Let's move around this area, stay near the edges, and see what we can find out. High alert." Like they are not already on high alert.

Iris rolls her eyes with a smirk at Jes and mutters, "Men." Hey look, a compass! "Lookit you, bein all Boy-Scout-y!" When she's being stopped by Isla, she cant help a snirk at the comments from the guys, but nods agreeably and withdraws her bow to string it right quick and have an arrow in hand, just in case while they move around the edge.

Half the ground is a bit bumpy in a strangely ordered fashion, and some of those jumbles of weeds grow roughly in rows, like an old garden that's long, long ago been reclaimed but still bears just a scrap of its former state. The cut wood, when they've had a chance to see it from some other angles while moving, really does just look like a scrappy pile of old cut wood, but it has a decayed set of three steps leading up to it on one side. Size-wise, it's maybe a 10 foot by 10 foot collection of collapsed wooden crap that may have, at one point, been a home.

Branton frowns as he considers the area carefully, watching warily as he grabs his collapsed baton and extends it to length. Having noticed a weapon being readied "Well shit. Would a place like this have a person shaped keeper? not just the spirits that lived here?"

"I am what I am, no apologies," Jes says absently to Iris as he looks around, slipping the compass back in his pocket and retrieving his pistol instead. He keeps it at a low angle, drawing on his cigarette and scanning the remains. "So... this is old, but... this is civilized. I'm no Theurge, but spirits don't build houses in the real. This was some/body/, not some/disembody/."

Isla hears what Jes says, but this is not a time to wise crack just yet. She checks for Wyrm taint and does not find anything just yet. She drops her guard a bit. "Nae, I'm finding nothing but what we see. Still, let's be careful. Perhaps they left. Let's leave it fer now and move forward. But be on alert, weapons on the ready." Her own bow is out as well (but player forgot to pose that earlier(.

"Yeah, definitely a body and not a disembody..." Iris agrees, eyeing their surroundings and trying (and probably failing) to imagine what it might have been like and who might have lived there. And when, for that matter. "That's so *crazy*!" she mutters, "Like, were they lost? Or was this a summer house? What...?" Still though, she follows Isla's lead as they pass by the collapsed and aged little homestead and into the jungle again.

They again come across an anomaly only five minutes further into things though, when they come across a large depression in the ground. Normally, a bit of a pit - it's just a couple feet deep - filled with some bushes and the like wouldn't be a big deal, except that there's a dead guy in it. Almost but not quite in the center, there's a skeleton that's half sunk into the ground. A lot of its bones on its visible side are broken or smashed, and its dressed in fragile rags that have all turned a bit of a uniform grey-ish due to having spent a good deal of time as a host to various molds and mildews.

Branton is moving quiet and careful as he follows long into the jungle "Its so weird..." then they fnd the pit with the skeleton he stops "Well that's not something you see every day."

"Long-dead bones," Jes notes quietly, eyes still scanning around the area. "Anyone know any neat tricks to tell us what this is all about? Like... how anyone even got here, let alone got here long enough ago to decompose down to a skeleton? I don't know how long that takes, but... long, right? Is there... I dunno, anything around to maybe give us an estimate on age? Even just based on technology?"

Isla stops and looks at the bones. "Aye, long dead. Perhaps it got here the same way we did." That is comforting...not! She sniffs and gets closer to it, crouching down. "This is weird. There is no Wyrm taint. Like not even a teensy bit. TOO free."

"Oh! I bet this person lived in that house!" Iris blurts, and hops down into the shallow pit with Isla to go have a look, totally forgetting everything else in favor of curiosity. She crouches down to try and get a better look at things with her flashlight, squatting and squinting and picking carefully. "Well, they've got some stuff here, it's a bit squished down into the ground though...

Just as she starts fiddling with that and trying to scratch some dirt away to find out whatever gear this person had and what sort of time frame we're lookin at here (you don't know, they could have a license!), there's a sound, like a large, deep snort. Thus far most sounds, especially those near to the pack, have been those of birds and insects, anything else has come at a distance and it's all just become background noise, Standard Jungle Sounds, Volume One.

Iris snaps her head up just then, hops to her feet and backs up towards the group and the pit's short earthen wall, getting that bow ready again. This is your one free action before shit gets weird, so use it wisely.

A snort? Oh shit. Jes considers quickly, and stuffs his gun in his belt, murmuring to himself, "Gun away, fuckin' pray, claws to fray, time to play," and steps back to brace himself as he shifts into his Hispo form and gets ready for something terrible.

Branton looks around quickly and you can almost see him doing the math in his head and the wing marks on his boots flicker and he jumps over to the far end of a line with the garou between him and whatever the fuck that is.

Isla doesn't know what the fuck this sound is, but they are in a nasty place, and it is wolf time. Her bow goes away, she takes a step backwards and shifts to Hispo. Her eyes keeping a close eye on where the snort came from, claws at the ready.

Iris readies her Thorn Bow and attempts to call on Luna's protection but... Apparently Luna thinks she can handle this shit just fine without her. Which is super awesome.

Outside of the pit, what *totally* looks exactly like a collection of stones, brush, and assorted compost-y jungle floor matter, is actually a large animal that had been laying there for who the fuck knows how long. Its whole huge bulk begins to sit up and jostle about, knocking things off of itself.

Imagine there was no natural limit to an alligator snapping turtles size or overall bad attitude, and this one was ambitious enough to go for rhino sized. The creature is covered in armor and spikes with a huge, terribly sharp looking beak of a mouth. It snorts again and then opens its mouth to HISSSSSSSS! loudly at the pack. It begins to lumber towards them, either because it's defending its home, or maybe it just don't take kindleh to woofs 'round these here parts.

<< Oh, fuck, who woke up Michelangelo?! >> Jes snaps, dropping his cigarette while shifting into his Hispo form. He braces, drawing on his ancestral liver of tolerance to resist any possible poisons, and snaps, << Peach, we need a battle plan here! >>

Branton is staying the fuck behind the garou, moving as necessary to keep at least one of them between him and the giant turtle. He calls out in response "Or a recipe. Tonight we could dine on turtle soup."

Fiery Bellona fires back, >> I was thinking more Leonardo. Battle Plan - is it attacking or defending. I say we give it a wide berth and see what it does. It is big, and armored. Since none of us talk RHINOTURTLE, let's give it one chance not to kill us. If it goes for it, then we go for a soft spot. << She prepares herself against toxins, pain, and hopes Luna gives her protection as well...maybe not.

"You people and your appetites!" Iris accuses while okay YES, maaaaybe she was thinking the very same thing herself! Her tattooed wings unfurl off of her back so that she can be ready to get out of turtle range as she comments, "I don't think it *has* a soft spot!"

Meanwhile, the turtle charges! It builds up momentum pretty quickly and the distance isn't very far. It attempts to take a bite out of the huge wolf that is Isla!

Branton see the creature get a mouthful and he starts gesturing hurridly, his hands glowing blue for once "Apó ti léxi kai ti thélisi, kaló sto Khione!" And a fairly dense gust of sleet to pelt the giant turtle's eye parts with ice and hail.

When the tortoceros chomps down on Isla, Death's Jester damn near /panics/, snarling and leaping like a fucking bullfrog right at the turtle's face and knocking her limp body out of it's maw to prevent further snack time. He bounces off like a slingstone and hits the ground nearby, rolling up to his feet... right in front of the damn monster.

The turtle recoils and bellows with anger as its face gets pummeled by HOLY SHIT COLD! As a big reptile, it's NOT okay with this, and during this time it even loses its god damned lunch! STOMP STOMP STOMP! While it's blinded and Jes is tuck and rolling, Iris runs straight towards Isla and drops down to touch her. Damned near bitten in two, the bloody Fianna Ahroun's wounds knit back together with amazing speed until she's put to rights and even has her belly button in the right spot!

Fiery Bellona tries to get out of the way, but the rhinoturtlecerosmonster won that battle! FUCK! After some clever help from the pack, especially Iris (whom she will have to thank later) she returns to her paws and snarls out. >> OH FUCK NO! ATTACK!!! KEEP BLASTING THE COLD, WE GO FOR A SOFT SPOT! FIND A TARGET AND START A FUR GNARL! << They haven't practiced the pack tactic, but fuck, they got to take it down somehow.

Branton is not usually on board for ice magic, he knows it but its not his usual strongest play. He starts chanting again and building another ice spell, these things take time though.

Armored as the thing is, once the wolves are all going for the same place the giant turtle is pretty much toast. Still reeling from the blast of cold to its face a moment ago, half blind and enraged, and definitely not built to combat werewolves, once they start stripping off chunks of armor and the flesh underneath, things rapidly go downhill for it. Within mere seconds it's stumbling, blindly snapping, until once again the freeze comes to put it to bed. When it dies, it does so noisily and with a massive thudding collapse, the weight of its body smooshing it down into the ground into a pit just a couple feet deep, much like the one the dead guy's in.

Once Death's Jester has got his teeth and claws into the leg, he rips off a big ol' section of scales, turning back and to the side so everyone can just throw down on the weak spot. They do, and then Heat Miser becomes Snow Miser and blasts it with frozen death again, bringing the giant down! The tortoceros' leg buckles, and it begins falling... right toward the Ragabash! With a yelp, Jes leaps onto the damn thing's shell and scrambles for purchase, trying not to be shaken off by the tremors of its dying.

Once everything is settled and it stops moving and falling and shaking, the punk bastard braces himself, then shifts back to homid with a loud "WHOOOP!", standing on the monster's back and... yep, whipping out his dick and pissing on the shell. "I proclaim this the city of Tortonto!"

Branton hurls the second blast of sleet and hail to put the creature out of its misery, shouting something else in greek but the word 'Khione' is repeated again in his incantation. Then Jes....is Jes and Branton starts laughing. Transformation Complete!

Fiery Bellona is more than happy to be back in the fight, helping with attacking the spot that Death's Jester exposes. One after the other, they take a hit, leaving it for Branton to make the final blast - literally. She scrambles back away from the falling monster, she watches as her Beta rides it and then does just what he does best. Playing with his dick. And pissing on it. She isn't going to say a thing because that fucker nearly killed her. She does not shift back just yet, as she wants to make sure nothing else is coming for them.

The winged Iris wolf backs off in a hurry and shifts her way back to homid again to watch with a sort of horrified fascination and awe as the creature dies. Mouth hanging open, eyes wide, just holy fucking shit that just *happened*! This expression changes, just slightly, into horrified fascination and also horror. "Hey! You cant just!" Iris sputters up at Jes, trying to find the right wording for this strange indignation she has for peeing on this turtle. It DID just bite her friend nearly to death, after all. "You apologize to that dead turtle and show some respect, young man! It's not of the Wyrm, you shouldn't piss on it." Really, it's fuckin weird defending it, and that shows on her face, but she does it, damn it.

Jes shakes off and puts his wang away before hopping down, tilting his head aside at the tortoise after Iris' outburst, and looks over at Isla. He crosses his arms, looking back at the beast, and declares, "Sorry I pissed on you, turtle. I mean, you tried to eat my Alpha, and otherwise we might've left you alone, so you had the whole death thing coming, but I guess you didn't know any better or whatever. Shouldn't've pissed you on, sorry I did it." He turns back to Iris, brow arched, and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it and asking, "What do you think the best part of it is to eat?"

Branton considers as he catches his breath, looking the turtle over "From the usual sort of turtles people eat its neck and tail for the meat. Not sure on one this size. Maybe the upper part of the legs too?"

Fiery Bellona takes a trot around, checking things out, listening closely. Seems good! She shifts back to homid and rejoins the pack. "Is this the part where ye go, 'if ye kilt it, ye use all the parts'?" She smirks a bit. "Up to ye'll if ye want to eat this beast. I'd consider that it's old and probably tough. But I ain't goin' object when we did kill it and fresh meat is better than freeze dried." She adds though, "Are we campin' here or pushin' on tonight? Not sure I want to stay in a graveyard."

Iris gives Jes the squinty eyed look, but damned if she can sense any particular sarcasm in it. Friggin silver tongued Ragabash! So, she seems satisfied and nods her head, answering, "...I have no idea, I don't think I've ever actually eaten turtle before." She nods to Branton while retrieving her fetish bow and checking it over. Once Isla's had a chance to double check our overall safety, she grins at the woman and says with a gesture at their downed foe, "Great leading, by the way!" Then to the group in general, "Since we're safe for the moment, I'm going to step spirit-side and pay my respects. One of you wanna search the dead guy?" While that's worked out, she does as she said and side steps to do what pretty much amounts to Prayer for the Prey. Sure, it wasn't a bunny but it still feels like it applies, to Iris.

The dead guy has been here for a long time, and quite likely what just happened to the pack is what happened to this dude; bitten or stomped on or something, until they ended up nothing more than a skeleton in fragile wisps. Iris had started scratching up a long white thing next to the skeleton before all this had happened, and it has the crumbling remains of a hip pouch.

Branton shrugs at Isla "I don't think we could use all of it, or pack it out if we tried. Though that shell would make the mother fucking /king/ of all paellea pans. I feel like its worth having the experience...though I'll leave it to someone with more experience to carving out the meaty bits." Branton steps away to look over what Iris was checking out before things went bonkers.

"I, umm... I got this, I guess," Jes replies with a sigh when he looks back at the turtle. He shifts up to his War Form, claws out, and starts tearing dutifully at the meat, pulling off bits of scale and toughness to get at the fleshy chunks beneath. He looks around, then sighs, realizing he has nothing to put his first chunk in, and just sort of shoves it back, moving to hack off a fat toenail for a platter before going back to work.

Isla will join Branton to start searching the skeleton. It isn't something she wants to touch, but you never know what it could be. That rhinoturtlemonster was protecting something. She calls out to Jes, "Good fer ye, Sprinkles. Looks like fresh meat tonight." Now over by Branton, she let's him take lead on the digging.

The white thing turns out to be a longbow. It almost looks too slim and delicate, and it's wood is something unusually pale in color, but despite the age and the dirt and possibly being stomped on by turtle monsters, it's *fine*, polished to a shine and without a single nick or scratch. It's forward face is intricately carved in a sort of Celtic knotwork, but it hasn't got a string any longer.

The pouch has a lot of destroyed shit in it, but two things have survived the ages and elements; one being a lovely little monacle, delicate gold chain and dusty but otherwise unscratched lense wrapped in slim gold. The other thing is a little pouch that contains nothing more than two little shriveled bits of kudzu with the glyph of the Wyld scrached painstakingly into their teeny sides.

Branton carefully sets things aside as he makes a note in a teeny little notebook, along with a sketch of each item. He will also take a moment of concentrations to sense any energies or spirits lingering about the artifacts. For all that he talks shit he's very reverent when he works. You paged Branton with 'It is, of course, the bow, the monacle, and the two shriveled vines that are pinging as spirity magicy'

Isla sees the longbow and once Branton has finished his check on it, she will ask, "May I? She is obviously fascinated by the bow, even if it isn't strung."

Iris returns, the rite she performed isn't a long one, but it takes a few minutes, so now she has a gander at Jes's turtle butchering and the other two's excavation. She opts to help Jes out a bit, since he's over there workin all on his lonesome. At least until there's enough for 4 homids for a night, and Branton's gotten some stuff recorded. She comes around to see what's been found, and takes a sec to study, "Oh whoa, let's be careful with these. I'm not sure what they are, but that mark I think means they're awesome and dangerous at the same time." she says of the shriveled vines. She and Branton both can confirm the monacle and the bow have some sort of magic to them, and Iris guesses, "Fetishes, I think. You should keep that bow, give it a good bonding maybe. ... Jes! You'd look dapper in this eye glass!"

Isla grins as she sees it. "Sprinkles! Ye just need a top hat and a cane, slip on yer tuxedo and ye can be that peanut guy! Or the guy from that game... monopoly!" She laughs for a while until she snorts! Wiping under her eyes, she keeps looking at the bow. "Aye. I will get it all happy and checked out. I'm lookin' forward to tryin' this sweet thing out."

"Not right now I wouldn't," Jes snarls back gutturally as he continues his butchering, getting more meat to cook for further on the trip. It's not hard to get plenty, and once he's done Jes shifts back down to homid, arms bloody to the elbows, and strolls on over. "Oh, fuck, i'd look like Mr. Peanut. That's awesome. What do you think it does?"

"I dunno, but whoever this is had to have been a shifter, or maybe a kinfolk? Possibly a shaman..." Iris muses, and then shrugs, "I'm not sure. But Isla says there wasn't any taint around here, so I'm thinking they're friendly and uncursed. I guess just.. Bond with them and they'll reveal their secrets to you. I kinda hope it like shoots colorful laser beams like Starwars blasters do, though."

Isla laughs some more! "I doubt, but that would be awesome if it could. Fuck!" She checks out the intricate knotwork. "Just be sure to pull my ass out if I start talkin' to this thing about it being so 'precious'." She is really taken with it. It is elegant and strong. Oh this is going to be cool. "Try lookin' through the glass. See if things look different?"

"Oh, like Cyclops from the X-Men!" Jes replies with a laugh, reaching out to take the monocle carefully and put it to his eye. He takes a deep breath, concentrating hard, and then his eyes go wide. "Oh, fuck me running, that's the way /out/!" he blurts, taking it away from his eye and then replacing it. "Hah! Oh, that is /priceless/! It's showing me a motherfucking /escape route/!"

Iris looks at Jes, brows all perked up in surprise, and then she looks at the dead guy. Jess and the monacle, dead guy. "Irony." she says to herself with a snirk and a pat on their poor dead and unknown friend. That's good, cause I gotta say I actually *was* a little bit worried about the how-to-get-home portion of things. Then to Isla, "Here." she says, and offers Isla one of her plain arrows for her to try her bow out with.

Isla cracks her neck, and pulls out a spare regular bow string out and it takes a bit with the bow since it is new to her and just getting the hang of it, but she manages to get the string on without much fuss or cuss. She speaks to it a bit softly, and finds the trigger to activate it. She nocks the bow, draws it back and aims for a tree away from them. The arrow flies and it actually swerves around the first tree to then hit the tree behind it, but slightly to the right.

"That... is motherfucking /rad/," Jes says breathlessly, cigarette falling from his lips only for him to catch it in his fingers without looking and put it right back. "Holy actual shit, Peach. You curved an arrow like those dudes from 'Wanted' curved bullets."

"Holy shit." Iris says with a blink blink of surprise, "That bow rocks!" she agrees whole heartedly! She looks to Branton and shakes their little bag of twigs, "There's two of these, two of us, when we get back home we'll figure out what these do and each keep one." she says with a smile. "I feel like some of those guys from that video game with elves and cow people!"

"Super Mario Brothers," Jes offers deadpan, still staring after that arrow with the monocle at his eye. He looks down at the skeleton on the ground, taking a deep breath, and says, "Buddy, I don't know who you are, but... before we leave, I'm gonna try to find out, okay? And bury you. Like really bury you. You may have made it possible for us to leave this place, man, and given us some pretty awesome toys besides. Least we can do is carry your memory home with us." He swallows, then looks back between the other three, asking mildly, "Right?"

Isla clenches her fist and pulls her arm toward her, pulling up one knee slightly. "Aye, that's the fucking BEST! I'm going to love this bow, and keep it all shiny, and perfect, and treat her special." Ok, maybe a bit much, but it's awesome. "So what now? We eat? We follow Mr. Peanut and get the Fuck out of here? And what of the rock ye need Goop Mistress?" She takes in a breath, bringing herself back to the point of Alpha here. "Aye, we give 'im a proper burial. No peeing allowed." She winks to Jes. "Say a few words, give 'im the proper rites, and then we get the fuck outta here."

Iris also nods her head and agrees, "I was thinking the same thing. I don't know any death rites, though, do either of you? Fianna are supposed to be all... I dunno, good with that shit, right? Still though, I'm all for winging it if no one knows the right rites."

Branton surely also agrees.

Iris also offers, after a sec, "Well after we're done here, we should move on a ways and then maybe camp and eat. I still need that rock, but we cant possibly be that far off from it now. Nature's getting crazy strong, right? So it's gotta be close by. And Jes has that compass, so we wont get too lost."

"No, no... I'm not gonna pee on the grave of the dead guy who may have saved our lives," Jes says quietly, surprisingly reverent as he looks down at the skeleton. "He was looking for something, too, and just got stopped in his tracks. Because he came alone. Because being prepared doesn't make up for being alone." He swallows a little, kneeling down to look at the bones, and nods. "But everything happens for a reason. You died here, but it means we won't. So you're one of us, man. The one who got us out of here. You waited 'til we showed up and you got the job done. Bless you."

The Ragabash stands back up, looking to Iris, and asks, "Can you...? How do we find out who he was? There's gotta be a way, right? I don't... I dunno any Rites that'd work, but I don't think he cares. I think he just doesn't want to be forgotten here."

Isla cannot leave her Beta hanging in this sort of emotional state. She walks over by him, and puts an arm around him, kissing the top of his head. "Yer a good man, Jes. And yer right on this fer sure. He or she saved us. But being alone is not the way to get through here. Let's find whatever we can, and cover 'im up. Ritemistress, if ye could get ready a few words or something?"

"Um..." Iris says, taking a long minute and thinking the whole thing over. "Sure, uh.. I'm not super sure how to find this stuff out, but *someone* must know, surely. Don't worry Jes, we'll dig up his memory and bury his body. After the last time, I'm super not keen on anyone being forgotten and left behind like this. If you'll give me a few to commune with some spirits, maybe I can dig something up." she says, and has a seat next to their dead broheim, pulling out her pan pipes to play a hauntingly lovely tune.

Jes smiles at Isla, seeming a big less maudlin, and takes her hand to give it a squeeze. "Thanks, Peach," he says quietly, letting her go to head back to his pack and pulling out his utility shovel. He heads back and says, "Once we know who he was -- or she was, you're right -- I'll, umm... finish burying the rest of the remains, and we can maybe leave a marker and say some words, and cook up some turtle and have a bite. You know... see to the memorial, see to the necessities. Before we push on."

Isla starts to gather some fallen leaves and branches as well when Jes goes to get the shovel. "Aye, that'll do fine. Now let's get to the covering, while the Ritemistress does her thing." She puts away her things, so they can get to it.

Iris plays her pipes for a bit while some stuff is gathered up for all this, and after a good ten or fifteen minutes she's busy having a conversation with nothing, talking to spirits through the umbra. First one, then a different one, different sounding tongues for different spirits. After another good fifteen or so minutes she suddenly jumps and says, "OH! Oh wow, okay yeah, I'm *pretty* uncomfortable with this... Right but. ... Five minutes, please don't make anyone stab me or I'm gonna freak out."

Iris twitches and jerks a bit, and mutters, "Ooooh no that feels so weird and wro-ooooh my, but it's warm, I'd forgotten it was so sultry out here." She looks around, and then at Jes, Isla, and Branton. "Oh, you've found my bits and bobs! How nice, I'm glad they're not lying around molding."

"Holy shit she just got Ghost Swayzed," Jes says quietly, dropping his shovel but not his cigarette. He pauses, considering, and says, "Umm... right. Hi. Sullivan Queenan Death's Jester, call me Jes, please. Fostern Ragabash of the Fianna, Beta of The Devil's Own under Weasel, recently crowned Emperor of Antarctica, even-more-recently discovering... umm, you. Not that we know who you are or anything about you, but... your being here may have made it possible for us to get out alive, so in my book, that makes you one of us forever, and... I wanted to know who to thank. With all my heart. Cigarette?" He opens his cigarette case, revealing its Nat Shermans and his Zippo.

Isla stops and just watches as Iris is taken over. Then Jes is all talk again and she has to smile that touch of sunshine with a twinkle in her eyes surrounded by her curly locks. "Aye, we got yer bits and bobs. Tell us more about ye. We want to be sure we honor ye."

Possessed-Iris gets up, a bit wobbly and awkward about it, and takes a minute to just be completely weirded out and emotional about not having the right body. Now, Iris isn't super blessed in the chest region, but man is she surprised to look down and discover boobs. "Oh, sweet daisies, look at this!" Without thinking, Iris grabs both her own breasts (honk honk!) and then immediately slaps herself across the face. "SORRY! I'm SO sorry, oh dear how incredibly thoughtless of me!"

Post boob discovery, she takes in the introductions and gives a flourishing bow, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance! I am Nigel Benningford the third, of the London Benningfords, and I am- er, well I suppose I *was* called Runs-Amok, or occasionally Embarrassing-Black-Sheep-Of-The-Family, Fianna Ragabash explorer extraordinaire, blessed with the rank of Adren before some blast damned turtle took offense at my presence."

She waves a hand and says to Jes, "Oh no, never touch the stuff, thank you. Besides, your lovely Theurge is not entirely happy with my presence within her charming person and I fear I may have used up all my blessings with the ah.." She gestures cautiously towards her chest. "Any how, you're welcome to my things, I don't suppose I'll be needing them any more as it is. I suppose I ought to get on, I got a bit side tracked after death and I've just sort of been wandering around this cavern, learning this and that about its shadowed side. And perhaps waiting for a friendly hello. Thank you for this, I truly appriciate the kindness you're showing an old fool."

"Naw, sir, I'd be doing the same thing," Jes replies with a wave of his hand at Iris' tits. "She may not think of much of them, but they're very perky. Knock yourself out; I mean, you're dead. Get some." When the gentleman makes his introduction, Jes' face /LIGHTS THE FUCK UP/, and he says, "Oh, damn! Damn and fuck all! You're like my long-lost uncle! Oh, we totally killed that turtle, by the way; absolutely killed it. Gonna eat it later. So... umm... thou art avenged, Runs-Amok."

Jes bounces on his toes, taking his cigarette out of his mouth so he can bite his tongue and smile and squee a little. "Peach, Peach, he was a /Fianna Ragabash/!" he says excitedly, eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "Runs-Amok, I promise you this, New Moon to New Moon: I will never, ever forget what you've done for us, even in the afterlife, and I will forever consider you a member of The Devil's Own. When we get out of here, I'll... I'm gonna find out about you, if I can, and... and maybe hang your picture at our pub. We have a pub. Shit, shit... umm... I may... I can... sometimes I can reach out to Ancestor-spirits. I'll look for you, okay? I... fuck, I wanna say so much, this is like getting to talk to my grandpa again but I've never said /anything/ to you before, so... fuck, fuck! Umm... make sure you grab her ass before you go, it's totally priceless! Also, thank you. We'll keep you with us, really."

Isla looks highly amused by Jes and the spirit. "No. No one is grabbing my ass, thank ye. I have no qualms with decking this guy even if he is inside the Ritemistress. I've done it to ye before Sprinkles, and I'll do it again. Look, dinnae touch." She winks to Iris. "I'm all fer honoring this guy properly. Ye are welcome to come liven up our pub and entertain my Beta here." She does hope Iris will come back eventually. "Hang in there Ritemistress! Thank ye for doin' this fer us. Ye just made Sprinkles milenia."

Iris bursts out laughing, pauses, and then laughs again, "I sound like a girl!" This still trips the dead guy out. "You must be joking, are you certain? Well if family's the case, young sir, I shall do you one better than that. If ever you come where our wolves of old run and course, I shall take you and yours in and you may bask in the joy of being protected by the least liked Fianna in all of bloody England!" Whether that was actually the case or not, he seems proud of it. More seriously though, he says to Jes but also the pack by extention, "You're doing better than I did, you've got family with you and you'll make it out alive just fine. All I had was a father to upset and brothers to upstage. I've had a lot of time to think about it and I was a right prick while I was alive. Be better than I was and I'll be happy enough. I'll visit, if I have the strength, but for now, a fond farewell friends and family." There's a pause, and then Iris loses leg power and sits down hard. "That was so unpleasant!"

"Not for me," Jes replies quietly with a soft smile, putting his cigarette back to his lips. His eyes sparkle, and glisten a little as well, but he picks up his shovel and starts filling in the area of the pit containing Runs-Amok, letting Branton tend to the Theurge. "I just met a life lesson. And I'm bringing him home with us, dead or otherwise. He's one of us now."

Isla shakes her head, "There's no livin' with ye anymore. Yer gonna be talkin' about 'im all the time now, aye? I'm all fer celebratin' the guy. He's savin' us from the great beyond. He is a life lesson fer sure. Main one bein' - we stick together. Now, let's finish givin' 'im his last rites from this world, and get us the fuck outta here."

"Yeah well you didn't have to have your uncle *inside* you!" Iris says. Boom, phrasing. For the Life loving Fury, having a dead guy's spirit riding you is just way fucked up and weird, and she takes a few minutes with Branton to get a drink of water and maybe a hug. "But for serious though, I am super happy for you." she tells Jes, because she totally is. "Fuckin coincidence though, am I right? I was talking to a death spirit that bridged the gap between me and a dead Garou it said was wandering around here, but who would have thought you'd be related to 'im? I mean, if we were elsewhere, maybe, but fuckin Antarctica? That's some weird-ass fortune right there.

She does help with the burying though, finding some stones to mark the grave's edge. "Here lies Nigel Benningford the Third, once an Adren Fianna they called Runs-Amok. I imagine he probably earned that name way before his rite of passage, if our Jes is any example." she says with a smile. "We ask that Gaia reclaim his body to nourish the earth, that his Ancestors welcome him home and preserve his soul. He may be buried far from home, but we'll preserve his memory, and the Nation will know of its lost son." She looks to the others to see if they have any parting words.

"Says you! You don't know what my childhood was like!" Jes retorts to Iris as he fills in the area around Neigel, covering his remains with dirt. "He was an explorer, just like us, and he fought that damned turtle, just like us. If it wasn't for goddamn /time/, he'd have been /with us/. It's zero-fucking-shock that we've got blood in common; he just did what I'm doing /now/. Exploring. Finding adventure. Living like a motherfucker." Iris sets her stones, and Jes stands by, paying tribute by grabbing his scotch bottle and pouring a little out for old Niege. "You blazed our trail for us, Runs-Amok. We are who you were, and that gives me hope that when we're long dead, someone else'll come along and say, 'Damn, there used to be an /us/ before /us/. Because the need to discover is eternal, and whatever's worth doing, /we do it first/. I'm taking you home with me, Runs-Amok; I'm gonna remember you."

Isla watches for a bit and then bows her head. Like going to church, you need to be reverent. Course when Jes starts pouring out the scotch on the grave, she raises and eyebrow, but remains quiet with narrow eyes. "We will take it as a life lesson to never go explorin' alone as well. Learn from his mistakes. Rest well, Runs-Amok. See ya at the pub."

Iris wiggles her fingers for the scotch as well, and when and if she's had a sip in respect, she says, "Alright, let's head out a ways and set up a good camp. We don't want to sleep by a giant dead turtle or get in the way of carrion feeders. Besides, I'm hungry as *hell* now!"

End of Part 3