2020-06-07 Rite of Accomplishment - Artaud
Rite Of Accomplishment - Artaud
Participants: Artaud Nate Alexa Flynn Clint Snake Lowel Addison Sandy Lucas Ashlynn
Storyteller: Sandy
Location: Dutch's Speakeasy
Date and Time: June 6th, 2020
Summary: Sandy runs a Rite of Accomplishment for Artaud before the Sept. Glory!
Mood Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WM7-PYtXtJM
Dutch's Speakeasy (or just 'Dutch's) is one of the last, old-timey relics of the heyday of the Glass Walker's Wise Guy ascendancy. Ronald 'Dutch' Holland, the aging, disgraced former Warder made a favorite haunt of this place, in the years after the old Sept Alpha, Mason King convinced him (and his legendary Fetish tommy gun) to stay and fight on. Dutch's story ended thirty years ago - yet his Speakeasy remains.
Dutch's is rarely seen with the lights on, and the reason for that is generally obvious when one sees it well-lit. What is alluring richness in the dimness becomes faded, tattered glory when more clearly seen. Old posters line the wall behind the stage, while there's a mirror behind the bar; the walls are scarred with the aftermath of a thousand fights, and still bear the odd bullet hole. At one end of the room are some aging arcade games and pinball machines, kept running by some arcane form of jury-rigging and the judicious application of percussive maintenance. Seats are usually clustered around tables, while a stage dominates one end of the room. At times - during revels or the like, for instance - the chairs and tables are moved so that every table has a view of the stage. At one side of the stage is a thoroughly modern mixing desk, and someone has added rigging for lights and other equipment ver the stage's area.
The lights are lit in the Speakeasy and there is some music playing from the speakers that are mounted on the walls near the stage. It's Landslide by Fleetwood Mac. A beautiful song of acoustics and a raspy voice with a message about life and how it comes and goes. Sandy is sitting on the stage with her legs dangling over it, a guitar in her hands as she strums along with the notes and the voice of Stevie Nicks. A message has been sent out to the Sept that a ritual of accord would be performed tonight for the Silent Strider and all are welcome to come speak on his behalf, or against.
Someone may have a different opinion, and that's fine and welcome. As such, renown should be taken seriously and weighed appropriately. Tonight, she is wearing a long white robe over a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt. Something a bit more traditional with gold stitchings of tribal glyphs along the sleeves. Her light blonde hair is sprawled out across her shoulders and in need of a trim.
On a table nearby is several snacks set up, as well as drinks for those to partake upon. Small mini sandwiches good for two bites, a bowl of pretzels and chips. Her foot lightly taps the back of the stage as she plays, waiting with her blue eyes gleaming in the shadows of the stage.
Artaud, the man... well perhaps one better say te wolf of the hour has arrived on the scene well ahead of time. He is currently dozing under the table even as people might be gin to filter in for the time being, the Lupus's left paw twitching more than once as he no doubt dreams of great travels and greater journeys not yet found.
Of course, as he hears the sounds of people arriving and setting up, the Lupus will stir out from under his spot to go and approach Sandy, moving to sit beside her, tail curled around his paws, woofing and hoofing greetings, while keeping his ear flat and posture relatively subdued for the time being depending on who comes in.
Of course the occasional shift and glance around, a pace here, wag there, isn't totally out of the question for now.
It is definitely an odd sight for the Lupus to be so high up on the stage, but he tries to look like he is supposed to belong there.
Into the Speakeasy comes Nate. He moves towards the bar to grab himself a glass of water and snag a sandwich - one bite for him, and he's quality-testing the food by stuffing it into his mouth immediately, just to be sure - before turning to the stage. Artaud gets a slow nod, Sandy gets a brief smile, then he finds himself a chair out of the way of the goings-on, here to witness.
There is another Lupus out in the gathering crowd, this one silver-coated and seated in a regal sort of repose in the front row and off to the far right side. Across his body the iridescent and intricate tracery of circuit lines is visible with a soft and idle glow as Circuit Tracer shows off why he has his name. No doubt the Ritemaster's here to observe given his somber expressions, but there's the subtle and restless twitch of his ears as he follows the arrival of each new set of feet behind him.
Ashlynn carries a couple flats of soda in her arms when she arrives, moving to set them near the snacks. They're underground-cool, but not cold. Setting them down with care, she snags one of the cans of juice and hunts for a spot to watch from. The cans are a mix of juice and various soft drinks. The wall is a good spot for the Ahroun to lean, so she gets to work leaning after cracking the can open and taking a drink.
Lowel was already here when the call went out and so he has stayed, dozing a bit with a drink and a good book. watching as everyone trickles in. Its been a while since he has been to one.
It's amazing just how easily a man the size of Snake can blend into the background - but he somehow manages to achieve it. Tucked away at the side of the stage he's at the control desk, and the lighting is slowly changing. Sandy and Artaud are in a light that's steadily growing in intensity, while the rest of the room darkens.
Clint heard there was food. It's a toss up as to wether he's here for the food or the rite. Regardless of his motivation, he's even taken the time to bathe and wash his clothes. He makes right for the snacks and grabs some sandwiches. One goes into his mouth, another two in one hand and a handful of pretzels. With his loot, he just sort of wanders around the room.
Artaud for his part, continues to try and carry himself like he is supposed to be here. THe truth is though that the Lupus still isn't a hundred percent certain, his eyes shifting to look up at Sandy, clearly intent on following her direction. His eyes will glance about the room, not so much pride filled, as he averts them quickly, but instead an unabashed curiosity at all the faces. Clearly bemused by the sheer number of people!
Addison pauses at the entrance to the speakeasy, running his thumbs down the lapels of his blazer. He tilts his head at the music selection, brow twitching as he tries to place where he'd heard the song before. He finds a place to file in all the same, wandering to stand over near Ashlynn with a grin on his face.
When the song comes to an end, Sandy puts the guitar to the side, then slips off the stage with a light thump of her sneakers against the ground. Heading over to the record player, she lifts the needle up and off, then turns the old relic of an audio player off. There is just something about vinyl that makes a song sound so sweet.
"Brothers and sisters of our Sept! I welcome you tonight to take part in one of our oldest and greatest traditions. Recognition! Tonight we gather as Orunis of the Silent Striders, born on a new moon and cliath, seeks to be recognized for his actions of glory!"
As she sweeps a hand towards the lupine on the stage, her voice rumbles out in a beautiful, clear voice, one filled with power and designed to captivate. "Step forward Orunis! For those who wish to speak upon his accomplishments and actions, please step forward! It is important that all have a chance to measure our brother."
Throwing her hands outwards, she looks left to right to those gathered, giving a slight smile to the sight of her three packmates, followed by an upwards tilt of her chin in recognition of their rank and station.
Snake nods to Sandy, as the light shines on Artaud. The needle is lifted and the audio feed from the record player is cut, while another slider is shifted upwards. And then Snake's landing on the floor at the edge of the stage, holding out a microphone for whoever wants to speak first.
For His part is all bristled with pride for a second, even as he tries to follow directions as best as he can! The Lupus is up, giving a quick woof! He tries to make it deep, deeper thann one might expect! Not so muh a howl of course. Not yet, but the short haired, wraggly looking wolf tries to present himself as worthy. At least for now.
Lowel sits up and looks around, curious about who will start and how things will go. Just hanging back with a broad smile for his roomate.
A smile and a nod is given to Artaud from where Lucas stands leaning. Although he doesnt lnow the wolf enough to speak up on his glory yet, he seems to approve in general by his body language while he awaits.
Draining the can of juice, she drops it in a trash bin on the way up towards the front. There is no shyness, but she is not a smoothly social creature. "Thanks." she murmurs to Snake, taking the mic from him and eyeing it before finding a spot to where she can face the people that have gathered. "My cousin, Alexa, she is much better at this than I am. So bear with me if my words aren't as slick as a greased weasel."
"I had the chance to work with Artaud in the Umbra, recently, and he puts his teeth and claws to good use. He lost some fur to the Furmlings fire, but he'd skirt the flames and go right back in for more, without hesitation, knowing that fire could have roasted him up like a pig. I'd be glad to have his teeth and his courage in a fight anytime." There's a pause and she passes the mic back towards Snake, trying to offload the thing before they make her say more.
In his place, Circuit Tracer sits up all the straighter as he turns the full weight of his focus onto the stage and the two Garou upon it. There is silence from him as Sandy begins, though there is a slight sideways tip of his muzzle in response to the gesture Sandy gives. The gravity of even so common of a rite seems to be one he takes seriously. As Ashlynn rises to speak, she has his ears as the Theurge listens in rapt attention.
Nate remains sat, listening quietly as Sandy sets out the beginning of the ritual, his gaze shifting to Ashlynn when she comes forth with praise for the one being recognised. Then back to Artaud, his brows furrowing in thought.
Lowel claps and looks around as Ashlynn finishes her piece. Sadly he just knows about his personal kindness, nothing realy brag worthy. Excited to hear more in depth insight to his new friend.
As she listens to the Black Fury, Sandy gives her all of her attention as she folds her arms in front of her chest. Once she is finished, she gives a simple nod of her head, followed by a smile. "Thank you for your words, Cracks The Skull of the Black Furies! We are honored by your particpiation." As she tilts her head to one side, then track through the crowd before she waits expectantly to see who will step up next.
Artaud just again tries to keep that composure. He theoretically is pristling with pride, but the Lupus again isn't certain of what ot make of all the eyes on him from the furrless Human's, so he just stands, and wags his tail slightly. Should he put it up or down? Should he look at the ground or at the crowd? What should he do with his paws?
Clint listens to what's being said while at the same time trying to do what he does and not be noticed. He tries at least. Hands still full of grub, he backs away, bumping into people with soft 'Sorrys' as he gets himself back to a wall. When he settles in he gets to work on the sandwiches and pretzels. Watching and listening closely to every word and action.
Snake takes the microphone back, then looks for who's next to take it.
Ashlynn moves back to that piece of wall she was holding up to lean and listen, folding her arms across her chest and crossing one foot over the other. Comfortable.
Lifting his head, the Master of the Challenge considers Artaud. He doesn't know the wolf particularly well, nor has he been present during any of the trips to the umbra in which he supposedly earned himself some Glory. Rising to his feet, Nate approaches and reaches out to take the microphone from Snake, lifting it to his lips. In that deep, rough voice of his, flavoured with a distinctly not-posh English accent, he asserts, "Anyone can kill a gaffling. What was glorious? Special?" It's not doubting so much as calling on Artaud to claim his glory with his own words. To boast of his accomplishments.
As she listens to the Master of the Challenge speak up, Sandy's brows lift a bit higher for a moment before she gives a nod. "Thank you for your words, Silent Volcano. We are honored that the Sept's Master of the Challenge has spoken up as well." She turns her gaze towards the Silent Strider now for a moment before she looks back towards the others in the ceremony. "It appears that he is not impressed so far with your deeds. Is there anyone else here that will seek to dispute his opinion?"
Artaud pauses to consider for a few seconds as he looks at Nate, then aside to Sadny, clearly uncertain how to speak on the matter, he coughs into the crowd as his body changes slightly to accomondate the neccessary organs to speak. His words are sitll gravley, they don't form quite right. "Great predator is not predator who takes down biggest prey. Is predator who takes down prey, and never gets hurt. First time? No injuries. Helped contribute. Fought. Did not et in way. Did duty." He'll murrmur, before he then adds, "Second time, also helped fight bigger spirit! Jaggling even! Fought through fire? Burning. Pain. Only minor injures. Somewhat." A glance is offered to Addison then. "Is not great predator yet. But is on way. One step further!"
"I, Ghostwalker, speak as one who has run with Den-Digger," Addison says in Challenge to what Nate has to say, speaking in defense of the Strider. "The swiftness of his tribe is Legendary and such that he could run anywhere he pleases. With such swiftness, the option to flee is always a temptation. However, Den-Digger did not choose the flee that night up on the over-pass. He was not bound to our war-party by totem. He chose to stand and fight. Glory often rests in picking the option less easy to us, in what must be done rather than what whats the most simple or truest to one's own nature. In the greater scheme of things, Den-Digger has chosen to stay and stand with the sept rather than run away and continue his travels as Anruth, despite the enevitability that he will face more powerful and terrible foes in the future."
The Uktena flashes his fellow Ragabash a grin. "I do hope he stays. Not only for more glory but for the rare and insightful perspective he brings to this sept, unique not just by his Tribe alone but to himself. I am glad to have fought beside this Lupus."
As she listens to the Uktena speak on the Strider's behalf, a smile flickers upon Sandy's face as she gives a nod of her head. "Thank you for your participation, Ghostwalker. We are honored by your words. It appears that you have a fan, Onuris." She says to the cliath with a nod of her head, giving a glance over towards Nate as the Strider sought to defend his actions. She lets out a hum of thought as she brushes a hand down along the white robes she wears to ease out a wrinkle in the fabric. "Does anyone else wish to speak up?" She asks curiously.
Tilting his head as Artaud speaks, Nate nods slowly to his claims, seeming satisfied. Then his attention turns to Addison, one brow raising slowly. He seems mildly bemused by Ghostwalker's statements. He doesn't say anything however, though the sense of his displeasure at all this talk of fleeing is clear in his body-language even if he doesn't voice it. A discussion for another time perhaps. He hands the microphone back to Snake and returns to his seat.
From the edge of the crowd at the stage there comes a howl. It's short and sharp, almost coyote-like in the shrillness save that it holds an undercurrent of challenge instead of mockery. It's Circuit Tracer, who has stood up with his tail in the air and his blue eyes fixed on Artaud. << Silent Volcano is right to question this. I was there at the first battle against the freeway banes! Yes, he fought. But, he also had three Adren there to weaken his foes! I would expect a cub to chew at the leg of a dying deer and declare it a great hunt. When he fought the larger Bane, again it was with many others fighting as well. Can you call yourself a hunter to scurry in and finish off the dying, or is that a scavenger to let others weaken his prey for him so he can claim the kill? >>
"Hey," Snake rumbles at Circuit Tracer. "Two Adren and a Fostern, Flynn."
Alexa files into the room, taking up position near Ashlynn. She's had the sense to listen in and get a bearing on where the conversation is at first, though she gives Ashlynn a questioning look at the second challenge Artaud receives.
Ashlynn greets Alexa with a, reasonably, quiet bear hug, bowing her head to whisper in the the Fostern Galliard's ear to help bring her up to speed.
Artaud listens to Circuit-Tracer at this point then, his eyes staring in turn, and clearly there is a sense of bewilderment. "We.. are wolves? Is it not in the nature that we hunt in groups? To do otherwise is to deny great strengths of being wolf." Artaud responds with a curious expression. "Was competent enough in fight to get recommended to be good hunter for the next hunt as well. So clearly was valued member of group. Contributed some. Just as all should on a hunt. Prey that fights back, is most dangerous prey. Wolf that is hurt, cannot hunt. Will die. Thus, to hunt and not be hurt, means gets to hunt again. For more glory."
"I can speak to Artaud's courage and valor in battle!" Alexa raises her voice now, a hand raising to the sky.
By now, Sandy is bobbing her head a bit as if she was listening to a song in her head. Her arms gives small sways back and forth at her sides. As she listens to Circuit-Tracer, she gives him a knowing grin. "Our Ritesmaster, Circuit Tracer is right to be curious and to question." She pauses for a moment, tracing her tongue along her lips as she listens to Artaud defend himself. She gives a solid nod of her head as she sweeps her blue eyes amongst the crowd once more. "And he defended himself appropriately I feel. Is there anyone else who wishes to speak -- Ah! My student." She says as she looks over towards Alexa, giving a curl of her finger in the Fostern's direction. "Come and speak then. Impress me. He needs it."
Snake holds the microphone out to Alexa. After all, she's wanting to speak.
Lucas seems to smile a bit more broadly as more people are promoted to speak, the deeds growing in renown every time they are passed from ones lips to another, certain a Galliard is somewhere memorizing them all.
Alexa takes the microphone and steps forward. Her free hand gestures outward. "Artaud joined Ghostwalker-yuf, Cracks-the-Skull, and me on our most recent expedition to the cloud of choking miasma hanging over route 405," Alexa announces, a fierce look in her eyes. "While the more experienced pack poked around in the material world for signs of the corruption, we engaged with the spirits on the Umbral side! There, we were set upon by two spirits of balefire - false elementals in service to the Wyrm, and it was there that Cracks-the-Skull and I used the gifts of flame to engage them in battle. One of those spirits was a Jaggling, much more powerful than the others, and it set upon us with furious gouts of flame. When the more powerful of the two Furmlings had tied up Cracks-the-skull in combat, it was Artaud who faced the threat of perilous flame at the tender rank of Cliath, flanking and supporting the full moon as a courageous wolf should! His prowess in battle was remarkable - he leapt and weaved through the flames in ways I've only seen wolves of higher rank move! His teeth struck true repeatedly, and when all was said and done he was instrumental helping us secure our victory that night!"
She gestures to Artaud. "This wolf has every right to a claim of Glory in the eyes of his fellow wolves and in the eyes of the spirits! He fought valliantly and has shown courage in the face of mortal peril."
She takes the microphone from her lips and holds it out, waiting for the next person to speak.
As his argument is howled and Onuris and others rise to defend his actions, the previously fierce stare of Circuit Tracer suddenly shifts into a pleased grin as he lets his tongue hang loose from his jaws. It seems the Ritemaster held no doubt after all. << Know all that Onuris has been challenged and howled the worthiness of his deeds. Others stand here and support him, and so do I. He /did/ fight well and mastered his fear to battle when the call was sounded. He struck well and fought with wisdom, not anger. A wise wolf does not fight alone simply to claim Glory for himself. A wolf fights as a pack, relying on the strength of many to win so that all may life and share in victory. >> And with this said, the Theurge resumes his seat and turns his eyes onto Sandy. << I am satisfied, Protects-the-Fallen-yuf. >>
Once the younger Child of Gaia finishes speaking, Sandy takes a few moments to look around the crowd to gauge their reactions. "Thank you Forced In Flames for your participation. We are honored by your words tonight." She waits for the Ritesmaster to finish as well before she gives another proud smile on her face. She gives a glance over towards Nate next, the Master of the Challenge. "What say you, Silent Volcano Yuf? Do you feel that your call to challenge has been satisfied as well, or do you seek more words of acknowledgement from the Sept?"
Sipping from his glass of water, Nate lifts his gaze to Sandy, considering her question. After a long moment of pause, he nods slowly. Yes, he seems satisfied. His attention then moves back to Artaud.
Alexa steps back and glances to Ashlynn. She whispers something to her, eyes still lingering on the ceremony.
Addison, who was standing near Ashlynn, reaches over Ashlynn's beefy shoulders to clap Alexa on the side of the arm.
Artaud looks ocntent now, a bit of the tension has relaxed after his defenses, even as he looks to Sandy, clearly content to follow along through the ritual for the time being, eyes wide, curious, and eager. Slight tail wag. A pant, nose twitch here or there.
Once it appears that the rest of the Sept have said their piece, Sandy nods her head and reaches out for the microphone from Snake. She gives her packmate a smile, then dips her head towards Nate and Circuit Tracer before she makes her way back up the steps of the stage. With the spotlights shining upon her, she fastens the microphone in the stand, then wraps her hands around it.
"I will now say my piece in regards to Artaud's accomplishments. I will say first and foremost, our young Cliath of the Silent Striders has guts to join the Sept officers on a mission of war and not find himself unconfident, or insecure. I have seen many Garou wither beneath the weight of our ranks and the fact he showed great heart and confidence earned my respect. Second of which, Artaud followed direction and fought with not only tenacity, but intelligence. He is as fast as an angry tornado and his claws were as sharp as as butcher's blade! Though while yes, the banes were gafflings and fairly easy to rend, the fact that he attacked from dark angles and ensured that his strikes would prove true showed that he has a keen mind for a new moon and knows how to fight to his strengths!"
With a clear of her throat, she offers the Strider a smile as one of the spotlights now shine down upon him, circling him in a halo of hot light.
"Because your brothers and sisters of our great Sept have spoke well of your actions, you have proven yourself tonight. He is made greatest in his tribe, his Sept, and greater among the People everywhere! Let this be known!"
She brings her hands together swiftly for a loud clap as it echos through the speakers around them, then lifts her voice upwards and howls, calling upon the spirits to give their judgement.
Artaud howls! Hooooowls! It is his time to howl after all! And so he does so, loud and proud! finally once the whole process is over, content to just let loose with a howl and then scurry off the stage with all the confidence of a wolf as he is off to go sniff at various foods and drinks he had been cuatiously eyeing from before the process had even started, and perhaps even might decide to go back to his dozing spot.
As the ritual concludes and the pleased whispers of the spirits sounds in his ears, Circuit Tracer lifts his head to let out a sonorous and full-throated howl. << Glory to the Wind-Blade! >> He calls, plucking up the nickname from his packmate's commendations. << May his victories be many and may the Wyrm shudder knowing there is such a mighty warrior among us! >>
Clint has been on his silent vigil. Digesting both what's being said and what he has eaten. When the rite is completed he pulls out three little plastic party poppers from his fanny packs. Nestles them between the fingers on one hand and trudges over to the wolf of the hour. As he get's close, the poppers' strings are pulled and spray confetti on Artund. He makes a motion to random spots around them. "They always watch. They always know." Then a big lopsided smile before retreating back to his place nearish Ashlynn to hold up the wall.
Snake applauds, from his spot next to the stage; grinning, he calls over, "Nice one!" to the Strider, before looking over to Circuit Tracer. "Wind-Blown, maybe!"
Alexa throws a fist to the heavens. "GLORY TO ARTAUD! We're blessed to have you here on the front lines, son of Owl!" She herself breaks into applause - she's never attempted a howl in homid. Gotta do it right, she'd always said. But there's a grin on her face as she claps.
Addison turns his focus back up to the center of the ritual, slipping his hands into his shoulder bag. He winces as the clap reverberates through the speakers. He adds a whoop to the chorus of howls the credscendo at the end of the Rite.
The Uktena's eyes track Artaud as he leaps off the stage, a grin forming on his lips. Addison slips under Ashlynn's arms and weaves past Alexa, creeping towards his fellow Ragabash. His hand draws out of the back, extracting something truely devious indeed. In Addison's hand is a glass mason jar, capped and filled three-quarters full with nickles and dimes.
Ghostwalker creeps up on the Strider, lips pulled taut in a coyote's grin that seemed sharper under the no-light of the Trickster moon. Once he's near up upon the Lupus, he shakes the jar violently causing it to make a sudden sound like a tumultuous rain-storm. "Do did it!" The Uktena Ragabash whoops his congratulations to his fellow Ragabash over the horrible sound of a mason jar maraca. "You got a Glory!"
As it appears the spirits are satisfied, Sandy gives a clear of her throat, then leans forward to say into the microphone. "Now go forth and enjoy yourselves tonight, everyone." As she steps off the stage, she heads back to the record player and slips a black disk out of another sleeve and puts it on. As she drops the needle down, the sound of Andrew W.K's Party Hard starts to rumble through the speakers. She gives a glance over to her packmates, then starts to make her way out and into one of the tunnels, sliding her robe off as she goes into her hands to fold up and be carefully tucked away once more.
