Grocery day
Apr. 15th, 2010 04:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shelbyrouIt is currently 10:47 Pacific Time on Thu Apr 15 2010.
Currently the moon is in the waxing New (Ragabash) Moon phase (10% full).
Country House
Tax day! And a chilly, drizzly day it is, too, the weather echoing what many people undoubtedly are feeling. Shelby's not too enthusiastic about the weather either, if her partial sulk is any indication. Breakfast long since over, she's back in the kitchen putting away the just-delivered groceries and frowning through the window at her car. It's been well-pollinated over the past couple of weeks, and the judicious application of water only makes it look streaky and diseased.
Well after the sounds of a shower running have ended, Kate makes her appearance downstairs. Clean, dried and hair settled into a low ponytail, she steps in with an easy smile toward the other. "Oh, groceries huh? Anything good?" She closes the distance to the nearest unattended bag to peek into it.
Al's bland grey sedan pulls up the drive, and unlike Shelby's car, it looks free of pollen. And just to add insult to injury, when the car parks, it disgorges Shleby's absolutely favorite tribemember -- damp and surly and rumpled as always.
Shelby glances over her shoulder with a half-smile for the ahroun, bumping the pantry closed with her hip. "The asparagus looks good. I'm thinking of making an omelette for lunch. Zosia said she ordered feta - is it in there? I haven't seen it yet." Heading back to the sink she catches sight of Al, and doesn't bother to hide her grimace. Her, "It's Al," manages to be more even than not; she raps on the glass and after beckoning the older Ragabash to the back door, heads to crack it open for him.
Kate looks deeper into the bag, reaching in to push things around in her search. "Feta feta feta.. yeah here it is." A glance up is given at the mention of Al. "Haven't met him yet." She gives upon the cheese to move around the table for a better look.
Al pauses at the rap, squinting. Then he shrugs and slouches around to the back door. "Yo," he says, greeting Shelby.
Shelby backs away from the door and back to the groceries, letting Al handle the closing by himself. "Good morning, Al-rhya." Whether it is or isn't, at least she's polite. Kate gets a tight smile as she takes the feta. "If you were both kin, I'd do the introductions, as I know you both. Is that how garou do it?"
Kate looks toward Al and gives him a quick once over before turning to Shelby. A nod follows, "Either or really." Attention goes back to Al, "I'm Kate Federov. Cliath and Ahroun of the Silver Fangs. Called Fire of Hope." A pause, "Which, all of that was the rather short version, so if you'd like the more proper, full one, just let me know. Good to meet up finally."
Al shrugs out of his damp coat and tosses it to the cub. "Al Strek," he says gruffly. "AKA Glass Breaker. Cliath Ragabash of the Fangs."
Lucky Shelby, they both know who she is. She manages to catch the coat, just barely keeping it off the floor, and shakes out - or attempts to shake out - the wrinkles with another grimace. "What brings you by today?" she asks Al. "I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow."
Kate watches the interaction between the two and then moves back to the grocery bag. Finding nothing to her liking in it, she pushes it aside and settles back to lean against the counter. "It's actually a good thing. I needed to speak with you, and Zosia too, about what the Alpha's suggested as my chiminage."
Al shrugs at Shelby. "I needa reason?" His attention shifts back to Kate. "What'd she suggest?"
Shelby finds somewhere to hang the coat, then circles wider around the two cliath to finish up with the groceries while trying to keep the rustling of the paper bags to a minimum.
"She said that you and Zosia were going to do some Umbral scouting, and that I could go along to offer support in that should it erupt into something more hairy than just scouting." A shoulder comes up at this, eyes raising to watch the older Cliath's reaction. "You haven't already done it, have you?"
Al frowns. "Kinda late for that, ain't it?" He leans against a counter, folding his arms and keeping half an eye on the cub. "Last I fuckin' heard, some numbnuts Fianna got himself captured, so the Sept's gonna throw in an' squash the fuckers."
"Jason," Shelby supplies quietly. "That's what Claude said."
Kate frowns, "So the other mission is being scrapped then? I heard about the Fianna getting caught. I said I'd help with that too. With whatever they needed help with really. So that umbral scout trip was for the Dancers?:
Al scratches at his bushy goatee and nods. "Yeah." He doesn't sound all that excited about either mission.
The cub folds the paper bags flat, careful to get the creases smooth, keeping half an eye on Al as he keeps an eye on her. Wary. "Where is the Dancer hive, anyway?"
Kate gives a sort of uncertain 'oh' at the news. "Well that sucks." She glances at Al then, "What did she have you do for chiminage?"
Al folds his arms across his chest again. "Hadda teach some rites. Got one done, then the fuckin' Dancers tried to gangrape the bawn, an' I helped fuck 'em up, so the rest of it got waived."
Shelby puts the bags away - neatly folded, thank you - and closes the cabinet door. She turns and leans on the counter rather like Al's doing, her own arms folded. Just like Al's. She doesn't have a goatee, though.
Kate nods. "I have to teach a rite too. And then the fighting, combat, help out stuff. I suppose there will be no lack of that though." She glances at Shelby, "Good question. Do we know where the hive is?" Her attention returns to Al.
Al shrugs again. "Yeah, but I ain't been there."
Shelby mentions, apropos of nothing, "Zosia-rhya's worried about the kin. She says Jason knows too much if he's going to turn. But he doesn't know about this place. I suggested she could see if they want to move in here for a little bit. We could go live on the bawn, or whatever."
Kate frowns again and her inexperience shows through in her next question. "Is it that likely he'll turn? I mean, like once they get you, you're pretty much done?"
Al grunts. "If he ain't got the balls to off himself, or he can't, yeah, he'll turn. Fuck, even if he don't turn, those fuckers are good at gettin' information. Everybody breaks, after a while, an' from what I heard, he ain't exactly a pillar of hardass, yanno what I mean?"
"They're Dancers," Shelby agrees, hugging herself a bit tighter. "I don't suppose they're exactly giving him access to fire or silver, though."
Kate nods to Al, tersely now. Shelby gets a look, "I know. I just would have liked to think that he stood a better chance. I heard it happened because he took chase after two of them trying to escape. So... would it have been better to just let them get away then?"
Al's eyes flick off to the side, then back. He grimaces and then pushes off the counter to clump to the fridge. "Two Dancers escape is mouseturds. Septmember gettin' grabbed and giving 'em all our fuckin' info is a big fucking pile of elephant shit."
"Mental note," Shelby mutters to her feet, "practice my running."
Kate lets out a sigh and nods to Shelby. "Good note." She watches Al a little longer until her curiosity wins over, "Where are you from Al-yuf?"
Al digs around in the fridge for a bit before pulling out a glass bottle of beer -- his own stock. "Noo Yawk," he answers as the fridge door thumps shut. "The Green."
Al's beer is right where Al left it, though now it has deli meat and wrapped cheeses for company. Shelby asks, "Isn't it hard to practice the forms when you're right in the middle of the city like that? How did you-all manage?"
Kate brightens, a sliver of a chuckle escaping her. "My dad was there for a while! Well, before I was even born, but I heard stories of the place during my cubhood. There weren't many Fangs there were there? And yeah, really. That place had to keep you in homid most of the time."
Al swigs his beer and nods. "Yeah." He slides a surly sidelong look to Shelby. "My elders actually dragged me upstate for training. But, yeah, ya don't shift a lot in the city. Too many people and every fucking one of 'em has a cellphone with a camera. Why the fuck d'you think I'm so fucking good with a gun?"
Brave Shelby, attempting a joke: "You knew you'd have a cub to train one day?" There's a smile that goes along with that before she straightens, stretching her arms wide. "Speaking of, is this just a social call, or did you want to teach me something? You said once there were these... Creeds?"
"Upstate by Birch Pool? That's where I'm from. Or was it Falcon's Eyrie? That place is ... well kind of stuffy. Even for Fangs. And you don't come across at all as the stuffy kind of Fang." Kate smiles at this before adding a rather genuine, "Thank god."
Al merely shrugs at Kate's observation. His eyes wander back to Shelby. "...Yeah. Creeds. They're like..." He grimaces. "Suggestions. Yanno, a moral code."
"A moral code," Shelby repeats dubiously. "All right. So there's... what, ten of them? Or are they a twelve-step program?"
Kate looks at Al with a curious gaze, "Suggestions? Well, suggestion maybe in that if you break them it's not like breaking the litany. But if you don't follow them ever, don't expect to get anywhere as a Garou."
Al returns Kate's look with a narrow squint. Roughly, he says, "Tell you what, kiddo, why don't you spout 'em out, then?" He takes another swig. "Far as I'm concerned, it's just more shit to memorize."
Shelby's lips twitch, but wisely, she stays oh-so-quiet, instead looking attentively toward the ahroun.
Kate gives an easy nod, "Sure, I'll do it. There's three categories Shelby. Honor, Glory and Wisdom. And each of those has subcategories. More or less. Glory goes like this. I shall be valorous - I shall be dependable - I shall be generous - I shall protect the weak - and I shall slay the Wyrm."
"Subcategories," is what Shelby repeats this time, her nose wrinkling. She looks over at Al, back to the Ahroun. "That sort of sounds like the Litany - take no action that allows a Caern to be violated, respect those beneath you, that sort of thing."
Al slugs his beer and just listens.
Kate nods, "They're pretty close. I mean, if you follow the Litany, you're halfway to following the creeds and vice versa. Next is Honor. I shall be respectful - I shall be loyal - I shall be just - I shall live by my word - and I shall accept fair challenges. I was always taught that this one is really important for us as a tribe. Being an example of how to act, leading by that example. That sort of thing."
"Well, if they're guidelines, they're all important, aren't they?" Shelby asks, looking back at Al. Again. She opens her mouth to say something but thinks better of it, instead gesturing politely for Kate to continue. "What's a fair challenge?"
Al gives the cub a sharp look, noting her almost-saying. He continues to glower at her.
Kate nods. "Yeah, they all are. I like to think that," she glances toward Al, "If someone is gonna take them only as suggestions, that the Honor Creed they'd take the most seriously. But, keeping them all would be even better. Wisdom, last one. I shall be calm - I shall be prudent - I shall be temperate - I shall be merciful - and I shall be just."
Shelby snerks wryly. "Getting lots of practice on that one," she says, hitching her arms together again. "So what are the Creeds for?" That's aimed square at Al, not Kate.
Al finishes off his beer and sets the empty glass bottle in the sink. Thunk. "I said. Guidelines for behavior." He eyes Kate, then looks squarely at Shelby. "They're good to know so ya can spout 'em off when people ask. Makes you look like a nice good little Fang. But, in my opinion? It's all too many fuckin' words for basic fuckin' common sense. Don't be a dickless, lying, lazy, smarming, shittalking, backstabbing dumbass. And get shit done."
Kate grins, not so much snarky as it is just totally unruffled by the other. "Is it so wrong to be a good little Fang? I like finding a happy medium. You can be a good Fang, following the Litany and the Creeds, without being a stuck up snob. And really, in this day and age? People do sorta need a list of what to do and what not to do. Common sense isn't common."
"I dare either of you to tell Piotyr Sulkowski he's just a 'good little Fang'," quips Shelby, her chin lifting under Al's regard while her eyes drift off to investigate the ceiling. "All right, three Creeds, guidelines, something else to memorize." Whatever else can be said about Shelby, she's top-notch at memorization. "Got it."
Al grunts. "You see me tellin' Zosia that? Why the fuck would I tell her goddamn father?" Without excusing himself, he clomps out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
Kate watches the gruff Fang head out without so much as a farewell. She looks about to offer one despite this, but then just hehs and turns back to Shelby. "Wow. This house is like the barracks for the Army of Unfun."
"That's Al," Shelby shrugs, once Al is (hopefully) out of earshot. Even so, she keeps her voice pitched low. "Why? Was your cubhood filled with balloons and pinatas?"
Kate turns back to look at the girl, brows creasing. "No. Do you get the impression it was?"
With another shrug, Shelby says, "You just said this wasn't fun. It's not supposed to be fun - is it? We're fighting to save the planet and life as we know it - unless you're a Red Talon, in which case you're fighting to save the planet and only about ten percent of the current population."
Kate lets out a soft groan. "Fun, like going to an amusement park, no, I guess not. But it's not like we can't still enjoy the lives we're living. Maybe cubhood sucks extra, but I'm not a cub anymore, and I'm not going to be all sulky and emo all the time. This feels like ... boarding school though. Between Zosia and Al."
"What's wrong with boarding school?" Shelby asks, nibbling at one nail. "I was raised at boarding school; well, close enough." She pushes off the counter to fetch down a glass. "Want some water?"
Kate nods, "Sure. On the water I mean. And no, nothing is wrong with it. I just, I could go for a little personality now and then. Not have everything so uptight and rigid twenty four seven." She looks over, "You'd rather it be all business and prim and proper all the time? What did you do for fun in high school and stuff?"
Shelby fills both glasses from the filter pitcher in the fridge, bringing one to Kate before she has some herself. "We had dances," she admits, "and there was shopping, and gossip. Zosia's younger sister - well, oldest-younger sister - was my best friend. Kasia. But we were." She stops and frowns into her glass, lips pursed. "I thought I was kin."
"So, right. You have a lot more on your shoulders now, and you can't just walk up to some random boy and get him to go to the dance with you. But why should the enjoyable parts of life completely stop just because we're Garou? The Fianna don't do that."
"No," Shelby agrees, "the Fianna have Galliard cubs who think it's their job to settle eons-old tribal differences, and cliath who get captured by Black Spiral Dancers." She hitches up to sit on the edge of the counter, heels thudding softly into the woodwork before they still. "I'll stay a Fang, thanks."
Kate rolls her eyes. "Nevermind. You do your thing, I'll do mine. I'll just have to go hang out with the Fianna and the Get and the Furies to get my dose of fun and smiles. Imagine that. Having to rely on a Get for that. Man."
Shelby only shrugs again, having nothing to add to Kate's complaint. After a moment, and another sip of water, "So the Alpha asked you to do some Umbral scouting with Zosia and Al?"
Kate nods. "Not scouting so much as going with the scouts in case it ended up in combat. But since things are changed, I guess I'll ask her if I can go with on the retrieval mission and finish my chiminage that way. I still need to teach that rite to someone too. It's a pretty easy one. Just gotta find a taker."
"What rite? The only ones I know about are the Questing Stone and Dedication." Shelby pauses, then adds, "Well, and the Rite of Passage, of course."
"It's called Feed the Earth. You can use it for a lot of different things. Penance, contrition, thanksgiving. You give some of your own blood to the earth. It's a kind of sacrifice so to speak." Kate lifts a shoulder, "I did it out in the woods, where all those trees are scarred from disease."
Shelby asks dubiously, "Are cubs allowed to learn rites? --Well, no. I don't think you're supposed to teach me until after your chiminage is complete."
A curious, and slightly mischievous, grin is given to Shelby. "Sometimes they do. I learned one as a cub. Or at least practiced it a lot. It's up to the elders."
Kate startles slightly, looking down to react to the buzzing sound in her pocket. She brightens up after looking at the phone, and casts a quick and apologetic glance to the cub. "It's my mom." Without another word she excuses herself outside and begins her phone call.
Currently the moon is in the waxing New (Ragabash) Moon phase (10% full).
Country House
Tax day! And a chilly, drizzly day it is, too, the weather echoing what many people undoubtedly are feeling. Shelby's not too enthusiastic about the weather either, if her partial sulk is any indication. Breakfast long since over, she's back in the kitchen putting away the just-delivered groceries and frowning through the window at her car. It's been well-pollinated over the past couple of weeks, and the judicious application of water only makes it look streaky and diseased.
Well after the sounds of a shower running have ended, Kate makes her appearance downstairs. Clean, dried and hair settled into a low ponytail, she steps in with an easy smile toward the other. "Oh, groceries huh? Anything good?" She closes the distance to the nearest unattended bag to peek into it.
Al's bland grey sedan pulls up the drive, and unlike Shelby's car, it looks free of pollen. And just to add insult to injury, when the car parks, it disgorges Shleby's absolutely favorite tribemember -- damp and surly and rumpled as always.
Shelby glances over her shoulder with a half-smile for the ahroun, bumping the pantry closed with her hip. "The asparagus looks good. I'm thinking of making an omelette for lunch. Zosia said she ordered feta - is it in there? I haven't seen it yet." Heading back to the sink she catches sight of Al, and doesn't bother to hide her grimace. Her, "It's Al," manages to be more even than not; she raps on the glass and after beckoning the older Ragabash to the back door, heads to crack it open for him.
Kate looks deeper into the bag, reaching in to push things around in her search. "Feta feta feta.. yeah here it is." A glance up is given at the mention of Al. "Haven't met him yet." She gives upon the cheese to move around the table for a better look.
Al pauses at the rap, squinting. Then he shrugs and slouches around to the back door. "Yo," he says, greeting Shelby.
Shelby backs away from the door and back to the groceries, letting Al handle the closing by himself. "Good morning, Al-rhya." Whether it is or isn't, at least she's polite. Kate gets a tight smile as she takes the feta. "If you were both kin, I'd do the introductions, as I know you both. Is that how garou do it?"
Kate looks toward Al and gives him a quick once over before turning to Shelby. A nod follows, "Either or really." Attention goes back to Al, "I'm Kate Federov. Cliath and Ahroun of the Silver Fangs. Called Fire of Hope." A pause, "Which, all of that was the rather short version, so if you'd like the more proper, full one, just let me know. Good to meet up finally."
Al shrugs out of his damp coat and tosses it to the cub. "Al Strek," he says gruffly. "AKA Glass Breaker. Cliath Ragabash of the Fangs."
Lucky Shelby, they both know who she is. She manages to catch the coat, just barely keeping it off the floor, and shakes out - or attempts to shake out - the wrinkles with another grimace. "What brings you by today?" she asks Al. "I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow."
Kate watches the interaction between the two and then moves back to the grocery bag. Finding nothing to her liking in it, she pushes it aside and settles back to lean against the counter. "It's actually a good thing. I needed to speak with you, and Zosia too, about what the Alpha's suggested as my chiminage."
Al shrugs at Shelby. "I needa reason?" His attention shifts back to Kate. "What'd she suggest?"
Shelby finds somewhere to hang the coat, then circles wider around the two cliath to finish up with the groceries while trying to keep the rustling of the paper bags to a minimum.
"She said that you and Zosia were going to do some Umbral scouting, and that I could go along to offer support in that should it erupt into something more hairy than just scouting." A shoulder comes up at this, eyes raising to watch the older Cliath's reaction. "You haven't already done it, have you?"
Al frowns. "Kinda late for that, ain't it?" He leans against a counter, folding his arms and keeping half an eye on the cub. "Last I fuckin' heard, some numbnuts Fianna got himself captured, so the Sept's gonna throw in an' squash the fuckers."
"Jason," Shelby supplies quietly. "That's what Claude said."
Kate frowns, "So the other mission is being scrapped then? I heard about the Fianna getting caught. I said I'd help with that too. With whatever they needed help with really. So that umbral scout trip was for the Dancers?:
Al scratches at his bushy goatee and nods. "Yeah." He doesn't sound all that excited about either mission.
The cub folds the paper bags flat, careful to get the creases smooth, keeping half an eye on Al as he keeps an eye on her. Wary. "Where is the Dancer hive, anyway?"
Kate gives a sort of uncertain 'oh' at the news. "Well that sucks." She glances at Al then, "What did she have you do for chiminage?"
Al folds his arms across his chest again. "Hadda teach some rites. Got one done, then the fuckin' Dancers tried to gangrape the bawn, an' I helped fuck 'em up, so the rest of it got waived."
Shelby puts the bags away - neatly folded, thank you - and closes the cabinet door. She turns and leans on the counter rather like Al's doing, her own arms folded. Just like Al's. She doesn't have a goatee, though.
Kate nods. "I have to teach a rite too. And then the fighting, combat, help out stuff. I suppose there will be no lack of that though." She glances at Shelby, "Good question. Do we know where the hive is?" Her attention returns to Al.
Al shrugs again. "Yeah, but I ain't been there."
Shelby mentions, apropos of nothing, "Zosia-rhya's worried about the kin. She says Jason knows too much if he's going to turn. But he doesn't know about this place. I suggested she could see if they want to move in here for a little bit. We could go live on the bawn, or whatever."
Kate frowns again and her inexperience shows through in her next question. "Is it that likely he'll turn? I mean, like once they get you, you're pretty much done?"
Al grunts. "If he ain't got the balls to off himself, or he can't, yeah, he'll turn. Fuck, even if he don't turn, those fuckers are good at gettin' information. Everybody breaks, after a while, an' from what I heard, he ain't exactly a pillar of hardass, yanno what I mean?"
"They're Dancers," Shelby agrees, hugging herself a bit tighter. "I don't suppose they're exactly giving him access to fire or silver, though."
Kate nods to Al, tersely now. Shelby gets a look, "I know. I just would have liked to think that he stood a better chance. I heard it happened because he took chase after two of them trying to escape. So... would it have been better to just let them get away then?"
Al's eyes flick off to the side, then back. He grimaces and then pushes off the counter to clump to the fridge. "Two Dancers escape is mouseturds. Septmember gettin' grabbed and giving 'em all our fuckin' info is a big fucking pile of elephant shit."
"Mental note," Shelby mutters to her feet, "practice my running."
Kate lets out a sigh and nods to Shelby. "Good note." She watches Al a little longer until her curiosity wins over, "Where are you from Al-yuf?"
Al digs around in the fridge for a bit before pulling out a glass bottle of beer -- his own stock. "Noo Yawk," he answers as the fridge door thumps shut. "The Green."
Al's beer is right where Al left it, though now it has deli meat and wrapped cheeses for company. Shelby asks, "Isn't it hard to practice the forms when you're right in the middle of the city like that? How did you-all manage?"
Kate brightens, a sliver of a chuckle escaping her. "My dad was there for a while! Well, before I was even born, but I heard stories of the place during my cubhood. There weren't many Fangs there were there? And yeah, really. That place had to keep you in homid most of the time."
Al swigs his beer and nods. "Yeah." He slides a surly sidelong look to Shelby. "My elders actually dragged me upstate for training. But, yeah, ya don't shift a lot in the city. Too many people and every fucking one of 'em has a cellphone with a camera. Why the fuck d'you think I'm so fucking good with a gun?"
Brave Shelby, attempting a joke: "You knew you'd have a cub to train one day?" There's a smile that goes along with that before she straightens, stretching her arms wide. "Speaking of, is this just a social call, or did you want to teach me something? You said once there were these... Creeds?"
"Upstate by Birch Pool? That's where I'm from. Or was it Falcon's Eyrie? That place is ... well kind of stuffy. Even for Fangs. And you don't come across at all as the stuffy kind of Fang." Kate smiles at this before adding a rather genuine, "Thank god."
Al merely shrugs at Kate's observation. His eyes wander back to Shelby. "...Yeah. Creeds. They're like..." He grimaces. "Suggestions. Yanno, a moral code."
"A moral code," Shelby repeats dubiously. "All right. So there's... what, ten of them? Or are they a twelve-step program?"
Kate looks at Al with a curious gaze, "Suggestions? Well, suggestion maybe in that if you break them it's not like breaking the litany. But if you don't follow them ever, don't expect to get anywhere as a Garou."
Al returns Kate's look with a narrow squint. Roughly, he says, "Tell you what, kiddo, why don't you spout 'em out, then?" He takes another swig. "Far as I'm concerned, it's just more shit to memorize."
Shelby's lips twitch, but wisely, she stays oh-so-quiet, instead looking attentively toward the ahroun.
Kate gives an easy nod, "Sure, I'll do it. There's three categories Shelby. Honor, Glory and Wisdom. And each of those has subcategories. More or less. Glory goes like this. I shall be valorous - I shall be dependable - I shall be generous - I shall protect the weak - and I shall slay the Wyrm."
"Subcategories," is what Shelby repeats this time, her nose wrinkling. She looks over at Al, back to the Ahroun. "That sort of sounds like the Litany - take no action that allows a Caern to be violated, respect those beneath you, that sort of thing."
Al slugs his beer and just listens.
Kate nods, "They're pretty close. I mean, if you follow the Litany, you're halfway to following the creeds and vice versa. Next is Honor. I shall be respectful - I shall be loyal - I shall be just - I shall live by my word - and I shall accept fair challenges. I was always taught that this one is really important for us as a tribe. Being an example of how to act, leading by that example. That sort of thing."
"Well, if they're guidelines, they're all important, aren't they?" Shelby asks, looking back at Al. Again. She opens her mouth to say something but thinks better of it, instead gesturing politely for Kate to continue. "What's a fair challenge?"
Al gives the cub a sharp look, noting her almost-saying. He continues to glower at her.
Kate nods. "Yeah, they all are. I like to think that," she glances toward Al, "If someone is gonna take them only as suggestions, that the Honor Creed they'd take the most seriously. But, keeping them all would be even better. Wisdom, last one. I shall be calm - I shall be prudent - I shall be temperate - I shall be merciful - and I shall be just."
Shelby snerks wryly. "Getting lots of practice on that one," she says, hitching her arms together again. "So what are the Creeds for?" That's aimed square at Al, not Kate.
Al finishes off his beer and sets the empty glass bottle in the sink. Thunk. "I said. Guidelines for behavior." He eyes Kate, then looks squarely at Shelby. "They're good to know so ya can spout 'em off when people ask. Makes you look like a nice good little Fang. But, in my opinion? It's all too many fuckin' words for basic fuckin' common sense. Don't be a dickless, lying, lazy, smarming, shittalking, backstabbing dumbass. And get shit done."
Kate grins, not so much snarky as it is just totally unruffled by the other. "Is it so wrong to be a good little Fang? I like finding a happy medium. You can be a good Fang, following the Litany and the Creeds, without being a stuck up snob. And really, in this day and age? People do sorta need a list of what to do and what not to do. Common sense isn't common."
"I dare either of you to tell Piotyr Sulkowski he's just a 'good little Fang'," quips Shelby, her chin lifting under Al's regard while her eyes drift off to investigate the ceiling. "All right, three Creeds, guidelines, something else to memorize." Whatever else can be said about Shelby, she's top-notch at memorization. "Got it."
Al grunts. "You see me tellin' Zosia that? Why the fuck would I tell her goddamn father?" Without excusing himself, he clomps out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
Kate watches the gruff Fang head out without so much as a farewell. She looks about to offer one despite this, but then just hehs and turns back to Shelby. "Wow. This house is like the barracks for the Army of Unfun."
"That's Al," Shelby shrugs, once Al is (hopefully) out of earshot. Even so, she keeps her voice pitched low. "Why? Was your cubhood filled with balloons and pinatas?"
Kate turns back to look at the girl, brows creasing. "No. Do you get the impression it was?"
With another shrug, Shelby says, "You just said this wasn't fun. It's not supposed to be fun - is it? We're fighting to save the planet and life as we know it - unless you're a Red Talon, in which case you're fighting to save the planet and only about ten percent of the current population."
Kate lets out a soft groan. "Fun, like going to an amusement park, no, I guess not. But it's not like we can't still enjoy the lives we're living. Maybe cubhood sucks extra, but I'm not a cub anymore, and I'm not going to be all sulky and emo all the time. This feels like ... boarding school though. Between Zosia and Al."
"What's wrong with boarding school?" Shelby asks, nibbling at one nail. "I was raised at boarding school; well, close enough." She pushes off the counter to fetch down a glass. "Want some water?"
Kate nods, "Sure. On the water I mean. And no, nothing is wrong with it. I just, I could go for a little personality now and then. Not have everything so uptight and rigid twenty four seven." She looks over, "You'd rather it be all business and prim and proper all the time? What did you do for fun in high school and stuff?"
Shelby fills both glasses from the filter pitcher in the fridge, bringing one to Kate before she has some herself. "We had dances," she admits, "and there was shopping, and gossip. Zosia's younger sister - well, oldest-younger sister - was my best friend. Kasia. But we were." She stops and frowns into her glass, lips pursed. "I thought I was kin."
"So, right. You have a lot more on your shoulders now, and you can't just walk up to some random boy and get him to go to the dance with you. But why should the enjoyable parts of life completely stop just because we're Garou? The Fianna don't do that."
"No," Shelby agrees, "the Fianna have Galliard cubs who think it's their job to settle eons-old tribal differences, and cliath who get captured by Black Spiral Dancers." She hitches up to sit on the edge of the counter, heels thudding softly into the woodwork before they still. "I'll stay a Fang, thanks."
Kate rolls her eyes. "Nevermind. You do your thing, I'll do mine. I'll just have to go hang out with the Fianna and the Get and the Furies to get my dose of fun and smiles. Imagine that. Having to rely on a Get for that. Man."
Shelby only shrugs again, having nothing to add to Kate's complaint. After a moment, and another sip of water, "So the Alpha asked you to do some Umbral scouting with Zosia and Al?"
Kate nods. "Not scouting so much as going with the scouts in case it ended up in combat. But since things are changed, I guess I'll ask her if I can go with on the retrieval mission and finish my chiminage that way. I still need to teach that rite to someone too. It's a pretty easy one. Just gotta find a taker."
"What rite? The only ones I know about are the Questing Stone and Dedication." Shelby pauses, then adds, "Well, and the Rite of Passage, of course."
"It's called Feed the Earth. You can use it for a lot of different things. Penance, contrition, thanksgiving. You give some of your own blood to the earth. It's a kind of sacrifice so to speak." Kate lifts a shoulder, "I did it out in the woods, where all those trees are scarred from disease."
Shelby asks dubiously, "Are cubs allowed to learn rites? --Well, no. I don't think you're supposed to teach me until after your chiminage is complete."
A curious, and slightly mischievous, grin is given to Shelby. "Sometimes they do. I learned one as a cub. Or at least practiced it a lot. It's up to the elders."
Kate startles slightly, looking down to react to the buzzing sound in her pocket. She brightens up after looking at the phone, and casts a quick and apologetic glance to the cub. "It's my mom." Without another word she excuses herself outside and begins her phone call.