2020-06-08 It is creation without form or purpose
It is creation without form or purpose
Participants: Flynn, Sandy, Snake, Ashlynn, Artaud
Storyteller: Nate
Location: Sept of the Smiling Angel - Caern Heart
Date and Time: June 8th 2020
Summary: A Racocon spirit drops by with gossip.
A domed cavern holds a metal statue easily half the dome's height, while equally-spaced around the edges of the cave are six ancient domed huts thatched with shaggy reeds, the arch of each doorway facing the statue. In front of the statue is a fire circle, a ring of white stones with charred earth within.
The statue is a piece of art far too large to have fitted through the tunnel. Assembled from a selection of recycled metal parts, it portrays a crowned angel with wings spread high and hands outstretched, and on the angel's face a smile that changes tone every time it's looked at, sometimes warm, sometimes wry, sometimes cold and sometimes hungry.
The ground underfoot is trampled earth, with bioluminescent fungi dotted about in less-trafficked areas; the fungi climb the cavern's arcing walls as well, in shelves and drapes and stands. When no other lights show, the cavern is dimly-lit by the fungi, the darkness hiding far more than the light can reveal. When there is a fire in the fire circle, the flickering light makes the shadows dance, and turns the doorways of the huts into yawning voids of darkness.
The morning is late and bordering on noon. Aboveground, the sun is high and blankets the skies in a haze of heat and ozone. It's only by virtue of the wind coming off the ocean that keeps the city from sweltering. Below ground, it is dark and cool as it so often is, with the fire burning in the center of the caern and setting the glowing fungi to sparkle and shine. In front of the firelight is the crouched form of Circuit Tracer, the Crinos-sized Glass Walker looking to be in a meditative position. In one upraised hand is a hefty sphere of copper polished so bright that the fire's light makes it gleam like a miniature sun. In the other, the skull of what looks like a great wolf but rendered bronze by age and staining. He is quiet as he lets the firesmoke wash over him and the items he holds and across a bowl of water that's in front of him.
THhe bawn has just the right setting of light for a Lupus like Artaud to find a comfy place to sleep and rest amongst the Fungi and huts. Thus there sleeps Onuris, the great lupus of dozing! It is a shallow sort of sleep as the wolf opens one eye on occassion or lifts his head to check to see who has arrived on the scene, but snuggled in close amongst the various growths of the caern, he seems more tha ncontent to just whittle away the hours for now sleeping in comfort, in a deep, kinda dark cave.
Heading in as well is Sandy who is making her way over towards Flynn. She lifts her brows upwards iwth a smile on her face, then settles down next to him to give a curious glance over at his meditation. She sits on her knees, sliding her hands over the tops of them as she patiently waits, and watches, to see if she can learn something new.
Ashlynn has fallen into the habit of bring little bits and bobs down to set out for the Sept's totem. Last week it was a dried rabbit foot. Today it's a similarly dried rabbit's ear. Moving quietly, the blonde Ahroun lays the simple offering down before moving to join the others - lured along by her own curiosity.
Snake makes his way into the Caern's Heart, with a deep bow for the angel. That done, he makes his way over to one of the thatched huts, and drops off the bundle of reeds he'd been carrying over one shoulder. He pulls a mallet from his toolbelt, and starts doing something quietly with the thatch near the doorway. This toolbelt is different from his usual, with a mallet and several twisted willow rods, as well as pliers and a large wooden comb, rather than the usual array of modern tools.
As more people begin to filter in, this causes Artaud to stir a bit more, as he moves to slowly lift himself up out of the various funi he had 'hidden' amongst, his eears flicking as he looks amongst the various folks who have arrived. Of course he doesn't go to say hi, right away, moving to scratch at his ear with his back hind left foot, the sounds of his paw scratching away, dully sounding out throughout the bawn for a second before Onuris is busy chewing on his left foot, and sniffing it in quiet consideration, pausing at points to quiet down, and clearly listening to what is going on with an interested stare. If looked at, he'll pretend to be too busy licking and sniffing and grooming. No nosey cliaths here.
Given the flickering firelight and the dim glow of the bioluminescent fungi, the heart of the Caern is full of shadows and dark spaces, as befits a Caern of Steath. For most of the folk in the room, those spaces remain impenetrable to sight, nothing to see here.
For Sandy and Flynn, they might just notice a hint of movement in one of the gaps between the ancient huts; a spirit materialising. A housecat-sized raccoon spirit in fact, not uncommon in these parts, with beady black eyes staring covetously at the very shiny copper ball Flynn is holding up.
The realization that others have filtered in slowly dawns on Circuit Tracer and draws him out of his deep pondering. With meticulous care, he opens the jaws of the skull with its stiff sinew-sewn jaws and slots the sphere of copper within. Then with his one hand now free, he scoops up the water in front of him and lets it wash over the skull. He drops his forehead down to touch against that of the ancient wolf's before lifting his head back up, only for his eyes to settle on the spirit as it manifests across the fire. Blinking once, the Ritemaster glances quickly towards the other Garou before he sets down the skull and looks to the spirit. ~Greetings.~ He says in the language of spirits, a sound only partly heard by those without the gift as the rest resonates out from his spirit. ~Can we assist you, friend? ~
At the sight of the spirit and Flynn's words, Sandy gives a glance over towards it and curiously offers a smile. She'll let the Ritesmaster deal with the conversation. As she pushes herself upwards, she smooths down her jeans and shirt a bit.
Snake keeps working on the hut, repairing a piece of thatch that's looking particularly ropy. He doesn't appear to notice any changes until Flynn starts communicating; his head comes up then, though, and he turns to look at the Ritemaster and whatever Flynn's talking to. Rather than go and join the conversation, though, he ducks inside the hut and works from there, looking out through the dodgy thatch while he does so. Not joining in, but definitely watching from the shadows that have claimed him so easily.
Finding a spot to sit and watch, Ash settles in cross-legged on the floor. Not understanding the language, nor spying the spirit, she's briefly caught up in the work that Snake is doing on the thatching. A small smile tugs up her lips while she watches the careful work, glancing back when she feels the speech of spirits coming from Circuit Tracer.
Artaud gives a bit of a snort and a sniff then, as his muzzle lifts slightly at the scent of a spirit, abandoning all pretenses of not listening, moving to step out closer to the fire to get a better look at the discussion ongoing. Quick curious tail wags, kept low and close to the ground as Onuris attempts to size up the visitor to the Caern.
"Dude. That is one hella pretty ball." The raccoon spirit, rather than communicating in the tongue of spirits which is equal parts sound, scent, interpretive dance and occasional visions, speaks English with a very clear Angelino accent. Having been spotted, she slowly eases on out of the dark space she materialised in, creeping in Flynn's direction and keeping her eyes on the ball, even when it is tucked into the skull's mouth. "Like, can I bum that from you?" She looks briefly to the Master of Rites, then around the room to all the other folk, then back to the skull-containing-the-shiny.
Well, that saves Circuit Tracer from playing translator. It's the little things in life. << Perhaps. >> He says as one Crinos hand comes to rest atop the skull with his claws casually forming a cage of talons around the gaping, silent maw. The copper ball alone is probably nearing the size of a small grapefruit. His ear tracks the movement of the other Garou around him but his eyes remain on the raccoon. << But nothing is for free. What will you offer in exchange for this treasure? >>
Snake continues to work in the shadows, watching what's going on in the light. Not an unusual thing for a Ragabash, that.
As she listens to the back and forth between the two, Sandy lets out a soft laugh under her breath in amusement. She gives a glance over to Circuit Tracer as he looks to haggle with the trash panda.
Artaud for his part just gives another big stretch as he listens to the exchange with a quiet, curious expression, head cocked to the side at this point. Letting his betters at this point lead the flow of the conversation. But now that copper ball has Artaud's attention at this point too then, as his ear flicks slightly back and forth as his unblinking gaze remains unbroken on the little ball. Then another look at the raccoon. Uncertain.
"Like no, dude, no. Bum. Borrow. You get me?" the Raccoon tells Flynn, flinching back a little bit when his claws form a cage around the skull, her attention shifting to some of the others in the room as if considering whether they might be more open to helping. "It's not like I'm gonna swoop it, bro." Honest. Cross her filthy little heart and all. Moving anticlockwise around the statue and the attendant Garou, she absently scoops up a shiny little pebble someone dropped in here, polishing it between her fingers and looking around to see if there's any water to clean it properly in.
Curious as hell, Ash watches the interactions intently, resting her elbows on her knees and leaning forward and listening. Not overly serious, just curious and soaking it in.
~I see.~ Circuit Tracer states. When dealing with spirits, one can never be too sure. Knowing the nature of such spirits and their desire to wash, he pushes the bowl of water towards her. There's still some left inside. ~For what purpose and how long, sister?~ The Ritemaster asks further of the Raccoon, ~So I know when to expect it back. It's an important ritual item of mine and the Master of Rites before me.~ He does close his claws around the skull and lifts it again so he can carefully unslot the copper sphere from between the wolf's teeth.
Artaud for his part, seems to cosnider the little copper sphere with a curious expression then, still staring, studying then, and then the bowl of water. He'll move to pace about, study, stare, but again, Artaud has little to contirbute either.
As she continues to watch, Sandy is rocking a bit on her feet to keep her ankles loose. Since it switched to a one-sided conversation, she focuses on the spirit and her demands. She gives a glance towards the skull, then back towards the pair as they interact.
Snake, meanwhile, just keeps working. The thatch won't repair itself, after all.
The Raccoon wilts slightly as Circuit Tracer explains the significance of the copper ball, her ears flattening to her skull and her eyes widening. It isn't like she wants it any -less-, but if she does steal it, there will obviously be bigger repercussions than there would be for something less important.
So she sulks a bit, slowly crawling over to the bowl of water and beginning to wash her pebble in it, slightly sullen. "Like, whatEVER. I didn't want it any way." Lies, lies, but she's not going to try taking on a bunch of Garou for a shiny, even if it -is- very attractive. "I'm just gonna post up here for a bit. I've got some gossip." Clearly inviting people to offer her bits of gossip or little trinkets in return for what she has.
There's a quiet chuff from Circuit Tracer as he looks to the crestfallen raccoon. With care, he delicately places the sphere down before the spirit and says so that the other Garou can hear, << Return it to me by the full moon in the same shape it is now, and I will ensure the other spirits know of your honor. >> Not an easy thing to come by when you're a raccoon. And he withdraws his talons and leaves the copper sphere sitting there to sparkle in the firelight and instead picks up the skull. With a gesture of his head to invite the others to come forward to speak to the spirit, he steps away to one of the huts in order to store the skull.
Reaching out to pat Circuit Tracer on the shoulder, Sandy gives her packmate a grin, then settles in next to him once more. "Yes, please make sure it's returned in one piece. Everything here in the heart has a purpose." She says as she gives a glance down towards the skull, then back to the racoon. She looks thoughtful for a moment. "As far as news goes, I found out that they plan on changing the routes for the garbage trucks that come by. They're moving it from Monday to Tuesdays, just in case you did not know."
Ashlynn pats herself down, reaching into the pockets on her jeans and feeling about. Coming up with a keychain that looks like some touristy token that a visitor might have lost, Ash sets it down. One of those little square fobs with a picture of some scenic place that even locals don't recognize on it.
"If likes.. shiny things. Found rocks. Found.. wires. found.. things!" Artaud himself adds in once insturcted to speak as he slips forward, "Has many gifts, but likes stories in turn yes? Loves stories. Long stories. Big stories." Artaud muses then as he gives a stretch then, "Have good story to tell? Can find shiny things for you in exchange. Found big blue stone even, all glittery." Artaud muses even as he glances aside to Sandy in turn, then pulling back to let others have a say.
Snake's contribution is a piece of copper wire pulled from a pocket; it's been braided and is part-verdigris, but it's real and part-shiny. He lobs it underhand to land near the raccoon, but stays where he is and doesn't say anything.
Perking up immediately, the Raccoon takes Flynn's shiny copper ball and begins washing it with enthusiasm. She's then distracted by all the other bits and pieces of shiny that are offered, taking up each one in turn to wash, chortling happily. "So like, I was at this park with my cousin - which totally has not been the same since they took down the Liquid Shard - and like he told me about this pigeon we used to hang with; a total birdbrain, but she gets around the sky a lot you know?"
Picking up the keychain, she holds it up to the light and squints to see if she can make out where it is from, then washes it anyway. "Anyway, she's roosting over in the six-two-six, and she heard from one of her flock who likes the edibles they sell in the Inland Empire that a bunch of hawks who were hunting north of Berdoo had to bail like -super- fast from there 'cause they saw a _twister_."
Circuit Tracer hangs up the skull on a prepared mount and is walking back outside shortly before there's mention of a twister. That has his ears perking just before they vanish as he takes to his native lupus form. No thumbs needed just to talk. << Unusual. It wasn't one born of a wildfire? >> He asks, the more common reason in California that one may spot a tornado. He comes back over to sit next to the fire.
Artaud listens then, content to not have to offer up any of his own valauble shinies at this point. The lupus quickly moves to fade into the background as well, listening with rapt attention. Only the slightest bit of confusion now crossing his features as he tries to parse some of the words that might be a bit unfamiliar to the poor lupus.
"A twister? I didn't hear the news about anything like that. Was this in the umbra or the real world? I'd think a twister would hit the news, unless it was like a dust devil or something smaller. With all the wildfires going on, it could be something like that." Sandy says as she leans in a bit curiously to snoop in on the gossip. "I'd be down to investigate it though. I have nothing on my plate." She gives a glance to her packmates.
Snake continues listening quietly. It's entirely possible that other people are asking all his questions for him; either way, he's busy right now.
Questions are asked, so Ash waits patiently, trying not to squirm with curiosity.
"The umbra, obviously," the Raccoon tells Sandy absently. "Tuesdays, you said?" She makes a mental note of that very important change, then continues with, "Not like a twister that is just wind, you know? A proper wyld twister. The kind you keep hella clear of unless you want, like, your tail to become a third pair of legs." She's underplaying the kind of change, but then again she's never been hit by one. Then, taking up the bit of copper wire tossed over by Snake she checks with him, "Is this safe to wash?"
"Oh, shit. That's actually kind of big news." Sandy says as her brows lift up even higher with a grin. "I haven't heard of a wyld twister blowing through Los Angeles in a long time. Years. Probably before my time." She gives a glance over towards the younger Garou for a moment before she looks back to Flynn and Snake. "I definitely want to investigate this. Carefully, of course. I'm not looking to have my insides turn into jello, but if something caused it to spark, we may need to figure it out quickly before more happen."
Snake ducks to bring his head into view when the raccoon asks him a question. "Yeah, it's just copper," he replies to the little spirit. "The green won't come off easily." Sandy's reaction gets a nod. "No kidding. Although, I can think of a few places that could use a proper Wyld twister."
The revelation of the Wyld Twister perhaps has the opposite effect, instead of distrust, fear, there is outright excitement. "Where? How? Know what made? Can find more? Is big? small?" There are questions just pouring out from the Lupus at this point.
Ashlynn's brows knit up and she glances from face to face, taking in the different responses. "Is this a good thing or a bad one? Can they be... guided to a place where they'd do good?"
There's a choking sort of sound from the Raccoon spirit, which those familiar with their kind would interpret as a kind of laugher. "They're not -made-, they just -are-, you know? And like, if you wanna try guiding a massive spirit with even less brain than my pigeon buddy, knock yourself out." She gathers up all her now-clean bits of shiny, hugging them into her thick fur, and curling her bushy striped tail around the copper ball.
<< Can you ever guide the wind? >> Circuit Tracer proposes, sounding rhetorical as he does so. << It's rare that one is so close to the city. I would like to get a closer look at the area to see what changes it may have made. I've never gotten to see one, though I have heard of them. It will be a good opportunity for the young Theurges as well to learn about them. >>
"Agreed. This is definitely a look but don't touch type of trip." Sandy says, this mostly for the younger Garou of course to understand. "Wyld energy is some of the most potent there is. I've heard of people coming out aged older or younger when they get into contact with that much Wyld. You can wake up in a different body, different skin color, hell, maybe even wake up as a racoon if it hits you. Still, there has to be some type of trigger, right?" She asks the Ritesmaster. "To pop up in the city? This isn't my world obviously but I'd have to imagine there is a catalyst?"
"Takes as challenge. Great Challenge. Make. Make. Make." Artaud responds to the racoon with an almost proud tone then before he lowers his head as he looks up and aside to Flynn, quieting down then as he shifts off to the side again, trying not to stand out too much, but all this conversation has the Lupus very happily listening and watching. There is a palpable tension of excitment, eagerness that just can't be ignored.
"Mmm." The thoughtful sound followed by a nod. "Should be interesting to see what changes have been made. You think maybe the Wyld storm is a balancer? Like an out break to try and chew at the things causing Gaia harm?" Ashlynn muses - having no clue, but curious and enjoying the lessons.
While the Garou get into their discussions about what might be done with or about the twister, the Raccoon begins to slowly inch her way back towards the dark space she came out of, dragging her treasures with her.
"Thanks for the tip-off, little sister," Snake says to the departing raccoon. "See you another day, I hope." And then it's back to the thatching, while the others keep talking.
<< May your hunts be rich and your steps silent. >> Circuit Tracer bids the Raccoon before looking back to the other Garou. << It sounds to be north of the city and probably travelled here. Few Garou have been able to learn much of them. The Wyld has no reason. If it did, it could not serve its duty. It is creation without form or purpose. Those belong to the Weaver. Destruction is the place of the Wyrm. I see no reason to worry. This is apart of Gaia's order, a reminder that the Wyld is with us. >>
"Have good time!" Artaud muses then, even as he moves to slink off himself then, "Is good sign. PErhaps dangerous too, but is good sign." He'll muse then, glancing back, "But should watch for changes, sources. See if can.. redirect into more.. useful efforts yes?" Artaud muses even as he too beats that quick retreat.
"I suppose my only worry is if it changes something so dramatically it may effect the real world. The last thing we need is to find a three story pineapple forming in the middle of the street." Sandy says with a joking laugh. "But, let me know when you want to fieldtrip this. Maybe reach out to a few of the younger Theurge's as well to pull along."
