![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
So this is summer
It is currently 12:46 Pacific Time on Sat Jul 30 2011.
Currently the moon is in the waxing New (Ragabash) Moon phase (0% full).
Shore Around Half Moon Pool
The shadowy canopy of evergreens recedes here, opening into a small clearing. The grass underfoot is a vibrant young green, luxurient and seemingly soft to the touch; small flowers, some purple and others blue or yellow, add to the spread of color. Immediately to the east, the ground rises into a small, rocky outcropping, at the base of which stands a large pool of crystal clear water; the barest rivulet of a stream wends its way south and west from the pool across the clearing, losing itself in the forest. This whole area has about it a sense of peace and silence; the air is cool and fresh, the scent of the flowers pleasant, the colors of the forest in seemingly perfect balance. Anything not pristine or natural seems almost a world away to you here.
The half-moon shaped pool lies just to the east. A faint trail seems to follow the little stream southwest into the forest.
Obvious exits:
Forest Half Moon Pool
It's summer! It's sunny! It's not quite 70 degrees! Despite this last, Shelby is basking in the sun, arms folded beneath her head and pillowed on her jacket, leaving only a t-shirt between her skin and Helios' warmth. The Ragabash's eyes are mostly closed, but every so often a leg will lazily flex or she'll shift - so at least at those times, she isn't asleep.
Night's-Shadow isn't very stealthy, especially considering he's got a leather bag attached to him that makes leathery creaky sounds and thunks lightly against the lupus' side as he trots to the pool. He's got it finagled so it's strapped around him kind of like a harness - lord knows how many times he had to adjust it to get it right - and when he spots Shelby he gives a light woof. Hi.
Shelby turned her head toward the thumping at some point, so that when the woof finally comes she only has to crack open one eye to take in the visitor. "--Xander," she identifies after a moment -- maybe she was sleeping after all? -- and pushes onto her elbows, the better to have a non-muffled conversation. "What's in the bag?"
Nothing interesting, he says, proving just how lupus he isn't by plopping down on his haunches, loosening one of the knots tying it to him by gnawing at it and pulling the knot free, and then squirreling out of the thing by dropping his front end and pulling it off with his paws. Food. Some supplies. Camping here tonight and going to check out some umbral things later. On such a low moon? Why yes, theurges are crazy.
"You know," she drawls, her accent even more pronounced than usual, "I do have thumbs." She lets him get his bag all slobbery anyway, instead rolling onto one hip and propping up her head again. "Have you told anyone where you're going? --Anyone besides me, I mean."
Night's-Shadow blinks at her, then blinks at the bag, as though this thought didn't really occur to him. Still, he gives a lupus sort of shrug, shoving the bag against a rock. No, he admits, and then shifts up to homid and plops down cross-legged opposite her. "It's not too bad if you're careful. A lot safer than the city umbra, anyway."
Shelby remains unconvinced. "Uh-huh. That's like saying a bonfire is lots less dangerous than an exploding volcano, so it's OK to stick your hand in it." Changing the subject, "What are you looking for? Just... theurge things? Or more about those dreams, or what?"
Xander snorts, but just shakes his head. "Dream stuff. Ugh. That got weird, at moot. It has to be related, since, yeah. Wasp. But. Actually, going to talk to a spirit. ... kestrel, actually. One I made friends with awhile back. He goes near that old construction site now and then, so I was gonna see if he'd seen anything new."
Shelby straightens, as best she can while lying down. "Yes, that was strange. What was the Wasp saying, do you know? Zosia-rhya hasn't said anything to me."
"Just... repeating the same thing over and over. 'We serve the One'. 'She is the One'. 'The One is the nest'. Repeating over and over." Xander glances up to her with a brow raised. "It's weird. It's kind of like a warning, but I don't really know what to make of it. It's obviously a drone serving a queen or something, but who knows what the 'queen' is."
"Huh," is what the Ragabash has to say about that, eyebrows drawn down in thought. "And all that Dragonfly and Wasp told me, the night after the Hunt, is that 'they are coming'. I think if they'd meant /they/ were coming, they would have said 'We'. So we have a warning from two Totems, and another maybe-warning, maybe-message from... a gaffling?"
Xander nods. "Most likely. One sent from the boss, probably." He ponders for a moment. "You know. They said 'they are coming'. And in the distance was all this buzzing, right? And then, the night of the moot? All that buzzing came before the drone showed up, too. What if it was part of the 'they'?"
"Maybe it was part of Dragonfly and Wasp," Shelby counters easily, with the air of playing devil's advocate. "Though in my dream, I think they were trying to tell me more but I couldn't hear because of all that buzzing." She shrugs easily. "Don't know. It's a theurge thing." She marks Xander's luck with a quick flash of teeth. "I haven't gotten any more dreams, so I don't have anything more. Maybe I should try more tarot work in the Caern."
Xander considers. "Yeah, but-- I dunno. The buzzing didn't feel right for whatever reason. But maybe. It's impossible to know for sure." And this, it seems, is a source of the Shadow Lord's frustration. "I just hate waiting around for something to happen."
Shelby chirps brightly, "You should become a Guardian!" and bats eyes gone wide and empty. "I haven't heard or seen anything more from the pack - from the possible pack - since the Moot; have you? It's frustrating, when I can't go around and find people but have to wait for them to come to me."
"Isn't that pretty much what Guardians do all day?" Xander says a bit dryly, though it's clear he means no real disrespect. "I'd go nuts being shackled to one place for awhile. And, uh. Not really? Haven't talked to Marcos since that day. Rat-Tale or Tori either."
"Is it?" Shelby counters, as wide-eyed and vacuous as if it had never occurred to her. She breaks, then, rolling her head before rolling onto her back, arms stretched and fingers grasping for the sun. "Ugh. Well, I'm not too surprised about Rat-Tale - though I will have words for her, next time I see her - but I am the others. I wonder if Tori's still working on her chiminage." It must be rhetorical, for in the next breath she looks back to the Shadow Lord. "What did you think of that Adren, Shockwave?"
"Why are you gonna have words with Rat-Tale?" Xander asks, looking genuinely unaware, and the last question only brings about a loose shrug. "Seems pretty Fianna," the Shadow Lord says lamely, but then continues. "Dunno. Haven't talked to him. I guess this place does need more adren, though."
The Fang only looks pitying for a moment before answering the second half. "I'll say. Just one Adren, really, and I've only seen the Sept Alpha a few times. Can't think of the last time I saw him at Moot."
"Yeah, I've never met him. The Sept Alpha, I mean. I've seen him a couple times, but..." Xander pauses. "I dunno. It's not good for a Sept Alpha to not have a presence, y'know? Not healthy for the Sept. Just like having a tribal elder that's not around." He reclines back against the rock. "Anyway. No, seriously, what'd the Gnawer do?"
Shelby says, "Yeah. Someone will take the spot, by default if nothing else." She spends a few moments amusing herself with the sun, fingers spreading wide and closing again to block the glare, before looking back to the Shadow Lord. "-Seriously-? You were there, you heard her. Anyway," she waves it off, literally this time, "it's not much of a thing. I'll bite her, she'll apologize, it'll be over."
"Oh," Xander says, offhandedly. "I'm claiming eldership of the Shadow Lords." He says this rather definitively. "Not... that there's exactly a huge tribe to claim eldership of, but." He snorts. And to the latter, "What, her story? I wasn't on your side, remember, I dunno what happened."
"Good," says Shelby, with perhaps more vehemence than might be expected. "You'll at least be decent, unlike some of the others." Rolling onto her side again, she studies the Theurge for a moment. "Yes. The ending - Bag-of-Snakes-rhya and I were attacking the fallen Warder, only she stopped attacking for a moment to talk to him. I was already committed to my attack, and he turned and frenzied on me. She grabbed us both and clocked our heads together. Next thing I know, he's dead and I'm seeing two of everything."
Indeed, the Shadow Lord blinks at said vehemence, but then grins. "Heh. I never even met the one they said was elder here. I don't think he's even still around." And then, to the rest -- well, to his credit, he doesn't laugh, though he does give a bit of a crooked smile. "Ah. Uh, yeah, I could see how that'd be ... irritating, for that to be part of the story." He muses over this for a moment. "But yeah. I don't see her making a big deal of it."
"Hard-headed Silver Fang," the Ragabash repeats, and though the words are light her tone is not. It's... thin. Forced, perhaps. "If she'd said it to my face, that's one thing. But at Moot?" The girl shrugs and pushes up to a sit, legs curled to one side. "People aren't going to remember that I was the weapon that killed the Warder, they're just going to remember the hard-headed part."
"Well," Xander says, evenly. "I'd be annoyed, too, so don't think it's just you. Yeah, talk to her, though. Or, 'talk'." He gives the ragabash a glance over. "Besides. Garou are weapons, we're not really meant to be used as weapons." Dry, that.
The girl runs her hands back through her hair and takes a calming breath. "I'll bite her, she'll apologize, it'll be over," she repeats. "Though I'll have to do something to get her words out of people's heads." She glances past him toward nothing, then her eyes flick past as she gives him a wry smile. "Exactly. I'm going for a run, but I'll be at the Caern about sunset. Don't cross over until after that, all right?" A twist of fur and the white-furred lupus shakes out her coat before trotting across the stream, deliberately losing herself in the trees.
Currently the moon is in the waxing New (Ragabash) Moon phase (0% full).
Shore Around Half Moon Pool
The shadowy canopy of evergreens recedes here, opening into a small clearing. The grass underfoot is a vibrant young green, luxurient and seemingly soft to the touch; small flowers, some purple and others blue or yellow, add to the spread of color. Immediately to the east, the ground rises into a small, rocky outcropping, at the base of which stands a large pool of crystal clear water; the barest rivulet of a stream wends its way south and west from the pool across the clearing, losing itself in the forest. This whole area has about it a sense of peace and silence; the air is cool and fresh, the scent of the flowers pleasant, the colors of the forest in seemingly perfect balance. Anything not pristine or natural seems almost a world away to you here.
The half-moon shaped pool lies just to the east. A faint trail seems to follow the little stream southwest into the forest.
Obvious exits:
Forest Half Moon Pool
It's summer! It's sunny! It's not quite 70 degrees! Despite this last, Shelby is basking in the sun, arms folded beneath her head and pillowed on her jacket, leaving only a t-shirt between her skin and Helios' warmth. The Ragabash's eyes are mostly closed, but every so often a leg will lazily flex or she'll shift - so at least at those times, she isn't asleep.
Night's-Shadow isn't very stealthy, especially considering he's got a leather bag attached to him that makes leathery creaky sounds and thunks lightly against the lupus' side as he trots to the pool. He's got it finagled so it's strapped around him kind of like a harness - lord knows how many times he had to adjust it to get it right - and when he spots Shelby he gives a light woof. Hi.
Shelby turned her head toward the thumping at some point, so that when the woof finally comes she only has to crack open one eye to take in the visitor. "--Xander," she identifies after a moment -- maybe she was sleeping after all? -- and pushes onto her elbows, the better to have a non-muffled conversation. "What's in the bag?"
Nothing interesting, he says, proving just how lupus he isn't by plopping down on his haunches, loosening one of the knots tying it to him by gnawing at it and pulling the knot free, and then squirreling out of the thing by dropping his front end and pulling it off with his paws. Food. Some supplies. Camping here tonight and going to check out some umbral things later. On such a low moon? Why yes, theurges are crazy.
"You know," she drawls, her accent even more pronounced than usual, "I do have thumbs." She lets him get his bag all slobbery anyway, instead rolling onto one hip and propping up her head again. "Have you told anyone where you're going? --Anyone besides me, I mean."
Night's-Shadow blinks at her, then blinks at the bag, as though this thought didn't really occur to him. Still, he gives a lupus sort of shrug, shoving the bag against a rock. No, he admits, and then shifts up to homid and plops down cross-legged opposite her. "It's not too bad if you're careful. A lot safer than the city umbra, anyway."
Shelby remains unconvinced. "Uh-huh. That's like saying a bonfire is lots less dangerous than an exploding volcano, so it's OK to stick your hand in it." Changing the subject, "What are you looking for? Just... theurge things? Or more about those dreams, or what?"
Xander snorts, but just shakes his head. "Dream stuff. Ugh. That got weird, at moot. It has to be related, since, yeah. Wasp. But. Actually, going to talk to a spirit. ... kestrel, actually. One I made friends with awhile back. He goes near that old construction site now and then, so I was gonna see if he'd seen anything new."
Shelby straightens, as best she can while lying down. "Yes, that was strange. What was the Wasp saying, do you know? Zosia-rhya hasn't said anything to me."
"Just... repeating the same thing over and over. 'We serve the One'. 'She is the One'. 'The One is the nest'. Repeating over and over." Xander glances up to her with a brow raised. "It's weird. It's kind of like a warning, but I don't really know what to make of it. It's obviously a drone serving a queen or something, but who knows what the 'queen' is."
"Huh," is what the Ragabash has to say about that, eyebrows drawn down in thought. "And all that Dragonfly and Wasp told me, the night after the Hunt, is that 'they are coming'. I think if they'd meant /they/ were coming, they would have said 'We'. So we have a warning from two Totems, and another maybe-warning, maybe-message from... a gaffling?"
Xander nods. "Most likely. One sent from the boss, probably." He ponders for a moment. "You know. They said 'they are coming'. And in the distance was all this buzzing, right? And then, the night of the moot? All that buzzing came before the drone showed up, too. What if it was part of the 'they'?"
"Maybe it was part of Dragonfly and Wasp," Shelby counters easily, with the air of playing devil's advocate. "Though in my dream, I think they were trying to tell me more but I couldn't hear because of all that buzzing." She shrugs easily. "Don't know. It's a theurge thing." She marks Xander's luck with a quick flash of teeth. "I haven't gotten any more dreams, so I don't have anything more. Maybe I should try more tarot work in the Caern."
Xander considers. "Yeah, but-- I dunno. The buzzing didn't feel right for whatever reason. But maybe. It's impossible to know for sure." And this, it seems, is a source of the Shadow Lord's frustration. "I just hate waiting around for something to happen."
Shelby chirps brightly, "You should become a Guardian!" and bats eyes gone wide and empty. "I haven't heard or seen anything more from the pack - from the possible pack - since the Moot; have you? It's frustrating, when I can't go around and find people but have to wait for them to come to me."
"Isn't that pretty much what Guardians do all day?" Xander says a bit dryly, though it's clear he means no real disrespect. "I'd go nuts being shackled to one place for awhile. And, uh. Not really? Haven't talked to Marcos since that day. Rat-Tale or Tori either."
"Is it?" Shelby counters, as wide-eyed and vacuous as if it had never occurred to her. She breaks, then, rolling her head before rolling onto her back, arms stretched and fingers grasping for the sun. "Ugh. Well, I'm not too surprised about Rat-Tale - though I will have words for her, next time I see her - but I am the others. I wonder if Tori's still working on her chiminage." It must be rhetorical, for in the next breath she looks back to the Shadow Lord. "What did you think of that Adren, Shockwave?"
"Why are you gonna have words with Rat-Tale?" Xander asks, looking genuinely unaware, and the last question only brings about a loose shrug. "Seems pretty Fianna," the Shadow Lord says lamely, but then continues. "Dunno. Haven't talked to him. I guess this place does need more adren, though."
The Fang only looks pitying for a moment before answering the second half. "I'll say. Just one Adren, really, and I've only seen the Sept Alpha a few times. Can't think of the last time I saw him at Moot."
"Yeah, I've never met him. The Sept Alpha, I mean. I've seen him a couple times, but..." Xander pauses. "I dunno. It's not good for a Sept Alpha to not have a presence, y'know? Not healthy for the Sept. Just like having a tribal elder that's not around." He reclines back against the rock. "Anyway. No, seriously, what'd the Gnawer do?"
Shelby says, "Yeah. Someone will take the spot, by default if nothing else." She spends a few moments amusing herself with the sun, fingers spreading wide and closing again to block the glare, before looking back to the Shadow Lord. "-Seriously-? You were there, you heard her. Anyway," she waves it off, literally this time, "it's not much of a thing. I'll bite her, she'll apologize, it'll be over."
"Oh," Xander says, offhandedly. "I'm claiming eldership of the Shadow Lords." He says this rather definitively. "Not... that there's exactly a huge tribe to claim eldership of, but." He snorts. And to the latter, "What, her story? I wasn't on your side, remember, I dunno what happened."
"Good," says Shelby, with perhaps more vehemence than might be expected. "You'll at least be decent, unlike some of the others." Rolling onto her side again, she studies the Theurge for a moment. "Yes. The ending - Bag-of-Snakes-rhya and I were attacking the fallen Warder, only she stopped attacking for a moment to talk to him. I was already committed to my attack, and he turned and frenzied on me. She grabbed us both and clocked our heads together. Next thing I know, he's dead and I'm seeing two of everything."
Indeed, the Shadow Lord blinks at said vehemence, but then grins. "Heh. I never even met the one they said was elder here. I don't think he's even still around." And then, to the rest -- well, to his credit, he doesn't laugh, though he does give a bit of a crooked smile. "Ah. Uh, yeah, I could see how that'd be ... irritating, for that to be part of the story." He muses over this for a moment. "But yeah. I don't see her making a big deal of it."
"Hard-headed Silver Fang," the Ragabash repeats, and though the words are light her tone is not. It's... thin. Forced, perhaps. "If she'd said it to my face, that's one thing. But at Moot?" The girl shrugs and pushes up to a sit, legs curled to one side. "People aren't going to remember that I was the weapon that killed the Warder, they're just going to remember the hard-headed part."
"Well," Xander says, evenly. "I'd be annoyed, too, so don't think it's just you. Yeah, talk to her, though. Or, 'talk'." He gives the ragabash a glance over. "Besides. Garou are weapons, we're not really meant to be used as weapons." Dry, that.
The girl runs her hands back through her hair and takes a calming breath. "I'll bite her, she'll apologize, it'll be over," she repeats. "Though I'll have to do something to get her words out of people's heads." She glances past him toward nothing, then her eyes flick past as she gives him a wry smile. "Exactly. I'm going for a run, but I'll be at the Caern about sunset. Don't cross over until after that, all right?" A twist of fur and the white-furred lupus shakes out her coat before trotting across the stream, deliberately losing herself in the trees.