2020-10-13 Baptism by Storm Drain
Baptism by Storm Drain
Location: Maintenance Tunnels - Bawn
Date and Time: October 13, 2020 5:30pm
Summary: Ripley teaches Paola a vital Rite, and they discuss the politics of Kinfolk.
A messenger had been sent off to the Warder, one of the youngest Guardians, recently from her Rite of Passage, with barely the oil of a bane or two under her claws. Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh needed Ripley at the maintenance tunnels, where a trio of young Guardians were returning after getting tangled up with a clutch of scraglings that had been terrorizing some of the local populace. They are quite the worse for wear, still licking their wounds--but the precise reason the Warder is sent for is because they absolutely reek of the Wyrm, and Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh refuses to let them further into the Bawn until that's been dealt with. When Ripley arrives, she is crouched in the middle of the tunnel, blocking any progress with the position of her body--although no one is trying to move past her. The three young Garou, all in Glabro to help their wounds heal--though some look to be infected with a dark, rainbow-slicked oily substance, and refuse to heal.
"Someeee saayyy, only foollss rushhh in. But I can't help...FALLING IN LOVE! WITHHH YOOUUU^!" Ripley meanders out from a tunnel carrying a now empty beer bottle and singing loudly and poorly enough to offend any Galliard within earshot. Yes. Someone did alert him that gross people were trying to get onto the bawn. The man's visage hardens at the sticky-icky grossness upon these poor guardians. "Nu-uh. NU-UH! Lets go." He is pointing down the other way to the outskirts of the Inner Bawn. "You can't go around smelling like wyrmtaint and deathgrease."
"That's what I said," Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh insists, "but I--I can't fix it and none of them can either." The three Guardians, and the now returned messenger look around helpless, probably not so much as a minor rite between them. Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh stands up them and shoos them in the direction that Ripley is pointing, "Let's go. We're gonna wash you up so you can come home and get some rest." She looks back to Ripley then, a thankful expression. Her nostrils flare and she flicks her eyes toward his bottle. "I hope you weren't busy."
"Oh no. I was only bothering someone. With the singing. The memory will last." Ripley reaches out to snag the collar of one of the wounded Glabro to pull along as he starts off into rather unused corridors because 'they don't go anywhere'. Except this time, they seem to be going somewhere. They seem to be heading towards the sound of falling water. "Ya'll don't come out this way without someone like me. Ya'hear?" Inside of a large enough cavern, water falls from above and falls below into the depths of the Earth. Scarily.
Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh follows along, but not before thanking the messenger, but then also shooing her off back to her owh patrols. The young Lawgiver lopes after the rest on all fours, moving from side to side as if she were going to herd any stragglers, but for the most part these young Garou take the Warder very seriously and follow along with his commands. "What's down here? Where is the water coming from? Is it a storm drain? Is it something else? Also--do you know someone named Sketch?"
"Sketch is gone? I thought?" Ripley says over his shoulder as the collared Glabro keeps getting pulled "Downwards, get human or I might drop you." The man winks towards the YoungMetisWolf before turning to back the Garou up towards the falling water. "The stench of Wyrm is /not/ ALLOWED down here!" A quick and strong shove nearly upends the Garou into the chasm, but hands grasping at his collar and the man grappling with Ripley's forearm as a shocked howl echoes against the walls. "Howl it away, or I drop you." It hurts the held wolf, but not a lot. Enough. Another quick shake sends splattering of water every which way before the fresh Guardian stumbles to the rock floor. "Nexttt!"
"Yeah, he's gone. But that's why I'm bringing him up." Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh follows along, flaring her nostrils and parting her lips to taste the air. From time to time she runs her fingers along the walls, feeling out the cracks, and picking at them for signs of weakness in the structure of the tunnels. The Guardians shift down toward Homid as they're commanded by their Elder, the collared one yelping in shock as they go. One of them apologizes profusely, wringing her hands and muttering something in some foreign language to herself. "She said she hopes God sees you," Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh says helpfully. "I guess he found a lost Kin who's got no one looking after her now, and, uh, well, I figure you and I know better than most that not having someone to look after you is gonna get you in a lot of trouble around here."
"I'll protect her, but someone really needs to be teaching her. I'm not good at teaching." The next now Homid-Guardian is well aware of whats going to happen and snags her hands around Ripley's strong forearm as he yanks her towards the falling water. The scrabbling across the wet floor until she plunges into the icy water. "OUT TAINT! This is a place of /Gaia/ and this is a Servant of GAIA! OUT!" The smaller wolf is shaken harder in the water as her homid-howl is terse. Then thrown back to flop all soaked on the ground.
Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh watches Ripley closely--carefully--as if his treatment of the young Guardians were full of some secret message that she needed to decipher. She watches like a child watches their parent for how to act in the real world. She even moves a little more like him as she walks, puffing her chest out a little, and carrying herself with confidence--she is backing him up, but also she's emulating him. "Okay. Good. I was wondering if maybe she could go live in the junkyard. It would be safer. And I could help--but I didn't want to get involved with your Kin unless it was okay."
The cleansed too look more like they're just dirty and not like they've got seeping blackened ichor pushing into their wounds and floating in a miasma around them. Those attuned to the sense of spirits get faint glimmers of an awareness of the state of others. "You gotta scare the taint out, Paola." This is spoken quieter as if one of the most common rites were something to carefully teach about. The last Garou is grabbed up now, by the sleeves of his shirt as he backed up nervously towards the water.
Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh nods knowingly, receiving this wisdom as if it were something sacred. She bows her head even, and then whispers back. "I'll show it all my teeth--" and then, doing exactly as she promised, she snarls and bares her teeth at the Guardians--or at least they probably see it as being directed by them. Her teeth are not human teeth, instead sharp, and canid and threatening--and appearing wrong in her human mouth. So it carries a little extra weight of fear with it. Then she curses at them in Spanish.
The last Garou is apparently much more laid back about getting held out over a ledge. Until, of course, he is shouting at him and the water is drenching him and it HURTS! With Paola joining, everyone is yelling and hollering at the Wolf getting cleansed. Then...finally. He is pulled free and tossed into his compatriots while Ripley is wiping his wet hands down the front legs of his jeans. "Better. You guys can head in again." And the passage may never be found again until Ripley shows them.
The traumatized Garou start to shuffle out, and rather quickly at that, eager to get away from the man treating them that way, but Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh does not let a single one pass without snarling and snapping at them at they go--which might appear hilarious if she didn't have the teeth in this form to back up her threats. One of them jumps off of her feet and out of the way as she goes. She snarls after them even after they are out of sight before looking back at Ripley and watching him closely, studying his face, but also his posture and body language. "Did I do okay to call you? That was the right thing to do?"
"We've already cleansed them." Ripley tries to mollify Paola, but it isn't that much of an effort. He is waiting for them to leave before following after with Paola. "I'd rather not have Coyote mad at us either. They were definitely stinking up the place. Me, or any other Sept Officer. We need to keep our place clean." He'll reach out to THUD a hand between Paola's shoulderblades and sending her walking faster.
The thud sends her lurching forward--because there really isn't much Paola there in the first place. She doesn't complain, but she does let out a yelp of surprise as she scrambles to catch herself. She lowers down to all fours, despite being in Homid, more comfortable with more limbs to balance with. "Thanks, professor beats their asses."
"Oh, you're so very welcome." Ripley's mostly dry hnds tuck into his pockets and he adopts a whistle as the pair head back towards the main portions of the inner bawn. "So what about Ashleigh? She knows about the Litany and what not? What more does she need other than, 'hey listen up'? I've never had to teach a Kinfolk."
Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh looks to Ripley, watching him from the corner of her eyes. She lifts her hands and reveals her empty palms. "I really don't know how much Ashleigh knows or doesn't know. I met her and talked for awhile, and I know of some others who have talked to her. And I was just...worried. I didn't want to step in and start tending or teaching or anything like that until I'd talked to you. I thought you would know the best way to handle it. I didn't want to, you know--I know y'all ain't the Fangs or even the Walkers, but I was thinking--if I stepped in and started teaching their Kin, what would they do, and then I said--I'd better talk to Always Pure first."
"Then someone needs to sit down with her a bit and ask her some questions. Kinfolk are everybody's responsibility to teach some. Not control though. Coggies and Gnawers are close enough that I wouldn't mind that too much." The hand returns to Paola's back to keep her walking beside him. "If you're gonna be deputized and keeping things kosher around here, I kinda hope you can manage to keep all the kinfolk out of trouble, not just Children of Gaia kinfolk, and even Bone Gnawer kinfolk. I doubt Nate'll complain but you can track him down and yammer at him some too."
"I can talk to Silent Volcano," she says, nodding slowly as she takes in his advice. "I wasn't sure, at first, whether to ask you or him about it. But I thought maybe this was more in the Warder's purview than his, so, here I am. Also--I think you're sometimes easier for them to get to know and talk to. He's very quiet." She keeps walking, moving with some of his physical guidance. She offers him a flash of a sharp-toothed and distincly inhuman grin. "I got you, jefe. I just--you get it. There's been a lot of tensions lately. People upset about who is getting into who's honey pots or whatever. I don't pay attention like maybe I should, but I'm trying to keep some peace around here."
"I mean. I can only go so far above ground. The Junkyard /is about/ how far I should be going. Maybe a bit further." Ripley's face narrows with a pinched eyebrow and some grump to his face. There was Wyrm Taint and it got all the way down here. "We should be making sure people know how to cleanse and sense if they're gonna be covering entryways down here." TWO different conversations going on, both important.
"That's why I was wondering about maybe suggesting she move over there, keep her close--you can go a lot further above ground than me--at least with ease," she leans over toward him, bonking him lightly with one velvety antler, as a reminder. "I know she works at a gas station--I don't know where, though." She looks down at her hands, at her palms then, investigating them and then turning them over to look at the backs and her knuckles. "You could teach more people. Maybe something more official." Then, a beat, "What happens when you cleanse a Bane?"
"Into the Junkyard? Theres just the one trailer there and I'm not about to start imposing on one kinfolk for the benefit of another. She can sleep in the backalley behind House of the Rising Foam if she needs a spot." Ripley's shoulders shrug after a few moments. "Its not like most of us aren't sleeping rough."
For a long moment, Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh is silent after Ripley speaks. She watches him, searching his face, and even his body language as they walk, but then eventually she speaks, but says only. "Yes, Always Pure-rhya." And that's that.
"Ripley is fine most days, lady." Ripley and Paola return to the most portions of the bawn and he'll smile wide at the sight. "I suppose I'm not every night. If anything, she could be living down here for free food and closeness to others like her."
"You know, it's confusing sometimes," she says as the exit out into the main tunnel. She presses her hand to the wall, looking around the corner one way and then the next, "getting different messaging about what's respectful and what's not. My first name, before you were here, wasn't Paola. There's that. And also there's--do you, uh, do you call Peacekeeper-rhya by his name when you are around him?" She stops and crouches there at the entrance to the side tunnel a moment, reaching up to stroke her fingers through her curls as she watches him. "I'll tell her that, but it's not really. When you've had the sun your whole life, it's hard to stay down here." She pauses, "Even the Guardians don't always sleep down here. I know when they come and go."
"It really depends on what the situation is. If Peacekeeper'rhya comes up to me to tell me to do something, its Peacekeeper'Rhya. If he sits down to have a beer with me, I'm gonna call him by his name. If we're in a big meeting, I'll rhya him. Bone Gnawers and Coggies are a bit more lax about that." Ripley stops there and his hands tuck back into his pockets once more. "If I'm leading you out on a patrol? You should Rhya me cuz I expect you to listen to me."
Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh stares again, not ever meeting Ripley's eyes, but watching him closely, searching for something beyond the words he shares, before she says, slowly, and with some concern in her tone, "But...I always listen to you. So that means I should always say that, right?" She hasn't moved to go back to her patrol just yet, looking to her elder expectantly.
"When its ritualistically expected, maybe. You listen to me cuz I ain't done you wrong yet. Not because I'm the boss of you. Most days, right?" Ripley heaves a long and heavy sigh as he looks down towards the Speakeasy and the rest of the underground. "Who else do you even spend time with? Do you sit in a box or something when you aren't patrolling?"
Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh narrows her eyes suspiciously, still crouched where she is waiting, almost as if she is about to pounce. "You /are/ the boss of me. I'm a Guardian. You're the Warder. That is literally who you are." There's a pause, and then she says, "It's not a box. I took my own den at the back of one of the rail cars. I put up a blanket and some pelts so they know it's mine. They all stay away from me when I don't want them there. It's not a box."
"Thats a box. Its literally a rail car box, Paola. Its a wood box at least!" Ripley frowns down at her, a mock sort of glower down to the squatting and crouching her. "On patrols. Liam is our boss. Granted, I make quite a few decisions but I'm not your alpha." He'll reach out to push on her shoulder to see if she topples. "I asked about your friends. Do you hang around with friends?"
Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh doesn't fall over, but has to shift her point of balance. She doesn't look perturbed, and just reaches out to shove at the back of his knee, seeing if it will knock him over in the same way. "Sure, I have friends. I guess--you know not a lot of people want to be friends with me. You know that, right?" She tilts her head from side to the other, showing off her rack as if it were a grand crown, "It's hard to be with someone who is a reminder of mistakes. That's okay." She's quiet for a moment before she says, "I like Ghostwalker. Sometimes he visits me in the railcar. I used to...I liked spending time with Little Claws, but I think she likes her life above ground, and I can't always go up there. It's hard."
"Because you're fucking weird?" Ripley picks on only a single aspect of what might make people NOT want to be friends with Paola. The others probably matter more but this part she has some control over. "Yeah. I suppose you can't spend TOO much time up above. Like that. I go to the coffeeshop, I have family there. Little Claws I haven't seen around in quite awhile. Ghostwalker? I think we stomped some wyrmy tainted stray dogs in an alley a few days ago, him and I. If he is the one I'm thinking about." His lips quirk the side and his knee bends forward as if he was ready for the push. "Can't really blame you for what someone else did though."
"No, you can't blame me. But you can see me, and you can be uncomfortable, and you can want to not be near that. It's okay. I don't feel singled out. People give Gonna-Eat-That and Protects-the-Fallen-rhya's son plenty of distance too. It's just the way." She leans back against the wall then, pressing her butt against it, but leaning forward and toward Ripley, her torso between her knees. "I'm not weird. I'm just Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh. Maybe that's not what people who are born on two legs are used to. But I never got to grow up the way you grew up. You learned things, up there, that I never learned. Just like I learned things, down here, that you probably never learned. I'm not weird. I'm just me." She doesn't say anything about Little Claws, her eyes growing a touch pinched when they mention her, but she does clarify, "his Ape name is Aditsan. He's my blood."
"You're making me think I don't know peoples names as well I should." He'll ease back against the wall opposite of her. A pair of Guardians, Warder and Deputy, foreseeing all that may pass in and out of the bawn. "You're weird. Both ape-wise and born in the fold-wise, so to speak. If Gaia didn't want you to exist, you wouldn't exist. So your weirdness is Gaia's love and I'm not about to affront that. At worst, its unfortunate. You're allowed to be weird, Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh. You're just as you're meant to be."
"I listen a lot. Mostly, when I am patrolling, we're safe. We haven't been directly assaulted in a long time. So when I'm here, I'm listening. I see most people who come in. I see most people come out, and I hear all the conversations--well, maybe not all, but a lot of them. Even the ones I don't hear, I usually hear someone else talking about them. Honestly, I know more about Ashleigh from listening than I do from talking to her. I don't want to, you know, frighten her." There's a pause, and she looks up and down the tunnel again, before looking back to Ripley. "That's why I know names. I don't have like--" she shrugs, looking directly away from him for a moment, her cheeks growing a few shades darker than they already are, "--like Nevaeh. I don't have family, not since Only-Ghost-Behind-Him left. I don't got anyone, so I listen, and I have the stories, and the secrets, and all of the special little places that no one knows about." She looks back toward the secret tunnel that he just took them down. "That's all. I replace family with stories and names."
"We aren't safe." Ripley is quick to take up the very distinct opposite opinion of the fact. "We aren't. Theres enough sitting on our border that as soon as we lull into complacency, the caern could be taken." His arms cross over his chest and his face is a full furrow of grump and concern. "Losing people in outings is not safe. The majority of Gnawers and folks in the Southland of LA wouldn't show up to defend if we needed them to. Theres vampires and spiral dancers just waiting. I think there are enough banes in people that we aren't safe. Taint is everywhere, lady." He is shaking his head down at Her-Wounds-Are-Fresh. "Aren't Children of Gaia all one big happy family?"
"No," she says firmly, immediately. "They want to be--but their whole...let's just forget about the past and pretend the future is going to be fine if we ignore what came before is not family. It's insulting." That touched a raw nerve for her, before she adds, "Of course they bring important point of views to the People, and they are good at keeping the peace. It's just that sometimes, when you take the middle road, you let the people at the edges fall off the mountainside." She digs her fingers into her curls then, scratching at her scalp for a moment before she adds, "I did not mean to speak foolishness--I know we aren't safe, I don't mean that I'm secure, that's why I'm here. That's why I'm here every day and almost every hour I'm awake. Everyone--look, there are some who are kind to me, and want to take me to see things I don't get to see, outside the Bawn...and Always Pure-rhya, I want that too. But I usually don't go. I know I'm needed here. I know I need to be ready and alert. I don't mean that I don't think there's danger. I mean--lately that readiness and alertness...I'm listening but I'm not hearing the Dancers and the children of Grandfather Serpent. I just hear...the problems we have here. And I know those things, they're like a little crack in the wall," she reaches up to run her fingers to touch one, as if to make a point. "Maybe they don't look like much, but if they're not looked after, the whole thing might come down. There's a lot of--there's a lot of resentment in these walls. A lot of frustration. I hear it all the time."
"Thats the worst part of dealing with the dancers, Paola." Ripley keeps Paola-ing her even when its clear she prefers her wolf name. "Apparently a portion of the police force somewhere down South got co-opted by Banes. Which is not a usual thing." He'll push off the wall and glance down at his watch, a mechanical watch, to check the time. "I think you're spread pretty far out, so the louder things get your attention. Its the hidden dagger that'll cut through your spine. So when something mean and loud goes quiet, you gotta worry." He'll cross over and shove his fingers into her hair to ruffle the curls.
Naturally, instinctually even, she leans her head into his hand to receive the attention. She closes her eyes and even smiles, the tips of her sharp teeth showing. But the words aren't lost on her despite the joy she finds in the physical attention. "I'll keep watching my front, but also my back. I'm doing my best. I know we all are. I don't mean to seem like I treat my duties flippantly, Always Pure-rhya. I am always paying attention. I want to be better. Thank you for everything you teach me and the time you gift me."
"Of anybody, I didn't consider you to be shirking your duties. You take on a lot of them. You hear a lot of the internal stuff and I'm just eyeballing whats going on outside." His nails curl through into her scalp to scritch. "Theres people around to watch your back too, for you. Politics around here is pretty rough though. Hence why I'm not in most of it, don't mess with the guy making sure everything is safe enough for your kerfuffling." Then he ruffles again as he goes to walk off into the 'town'. "I've gotta get to sleep though, early patrol."
"You're right. I need to listen to what's going on outside the walls more than what's going on inside them. I just wish--I could get out there more easily--" she still leans into it the scratches, turning and tilting her head to help him get to the spots she wants to have more attention, carefully navigating her antlers so as to not jab on through his hand. They aren't that sharp, as they're covered in a layer of velvet, but enough force and an accidental shift could definitely hurt someone. "Go get some sleep. Tell Nevaeh I said hi--maybe ask her about Ashleigh, even if it's temporary?"
"The junkyard is fun enough if you just want somewhere to see the sky at." He'll lift a hand to wave to her as he goes trudging down the mean streets of...down under? "I'll see with Nevaeh. In all honesty, she may end up a 'night guard' in the storage room of the House of the Rising Foam beforehand. Closer to getting down here and with a job."
