2022-10-07 A Proper Cleaning
A Proper Cleaning
Participants: Meg River Jackie Paige Trillium
Location: Rooftop Gardens -- Skid Row
Date and Time: October 7, 2022
Summary: Meg shows other Garou how to perform the Rite of Cleansing.
Meg is sitting, but she needs to stand for a moment. As she rises to her full, unimpressive height, she stretches her hands up in the air above her. "What would you like to learn first, River?" She seems to not care that there are others here who may also learn from her; she did before state her lack of concern of others learning what rites she was willing to teach. "And would you like to see how I do it or explain the theory behind it?" Beat. "And what shall I show you? The Rite of Cleansing, or something minor?"
She brushes herself off a little, especially her ass.
"I'll have to think on it." Paige nods to River at his legit lack of answer for her. "A challenge, to be certain." She settles quiet, her knitting in her lap as she unwraps and munches on the snack provided. She's just loitering at this point, to watch Meg teach.
Trillium exhales the smoke from his nose staring right there his hands now behind his back holding each other. The coin still moving between the fingers as he stands like a good student, as he looks over at River and than back at Meg.
River lifts a hand toward Jackie. "My Cousin says she's in need of a cleansing, and so I would be honoured to learn that rite," he answers with a grin. "It may give me time to craft the drum I want to play on, too," he notes, with a smile filled with dark promise.
"Very well, then."
Meg crouches over her backpack, opening it up. It takes a minute to pull out her spell components: (1) a Mason jar, filled with a clear liquid; (2) a stick of wood, about a foot long; and (3) a Zippo lighter. It's all a little urrah, but modern witches require modern solutions. "The power of cleansing comes from the Mother, and the power of the Mother comes from us," begins the Darkling in a serious, commanding tone. "Whoever or whatever is to be cleansed must be in a circle, a symbol of our Mother's womb; and we, who are part of the rite, must ready ourselves to chase out the taint that threatens their purity." She gestures to herself. "I prefer to enact the rite skyclad, but however you are comfortable works as well."
Then, she points to and describes each component.
"First, you must have pure water. This is water that has been cleansed completely prior. Second, the branch, which must be soaked in the water. Third, a source of flame, to set the purified branch on fire." Beat. "Once the branch is lit, you must inscribe the circle about the subject or upon what is to be cleansed," she continues. "Then, you must draw the Wyld from within, and howl loudly, that you frighten evil away from your subject. Doing this is what takes practice, my friends, for the spirits of the Wyrm are not easily frightened. And I recommend doing this at dawn, when such howls are more commonplace, if they can be heard."
Wise words.
Trillium exhales the smoke slowly watching nodding with each of the directions making notes in his memory. His eyes move from the jar, to the stick, than the zippo. Each of them noted with a smile. Than there is talk of water, his fingers still moving that coin with each new direction, that coin it flicked upwards behind his back and than he grabs it slowly.
Paige is quiet save for the clicking of her needles as she listens to Meg. There's little nods in agreement at various points, clearly Paige is already familiar with this rite, at least at its core. Personal variations aside.
River has his turn to listen quietly now. His brow knits as he remains deep in thought, mindful of the different perspectives from one tribe to the next. His lips draw together slightly, mind actively processing - and obviously so - as he watches intently and with focus, first the explanation, and likely soon, the rite proper.
Jackie takes some time to listen- but it's harder to pay attention when you're the subject. This wasn't a deeply necessary rite for her to learn- yet- so this is fine. She had an agenda. The Medicine woman takes a place that's open for Meg to work, laying case of her fetish bow over her lap. All her items were here to be cleansed as a part of her.
There seems to be little about perspective here.
"So -- " Meg spins the lid of the jar open, and dips her stick into it. After resealing the jar, she spends some time setting the flame of the Zippo to the branch's moist end, until it begins to smolder. " -- I like to inscribe myself with symbols of my tribe, personally. It helps me feel more connected to who I am." And, so, she demonstrates. "Here, hold this." She hands the stick to River, and then quickly peels herself out of her clothes, until she is naked. "Thanks." She reaches out to take the still-burning stick, only to blow it out, and then crush the embers with her fingertips.
Next, she draws the symbol of the Black Furies upon her chest with ash.
"All right. So -- " She gestures for Jackie to stand up and get closer to her. " -- if we were to cleanse her -- here, you can sit -- then I would draw the circle about her, where she sits -- " The Fury begins to do just that. " -- and I like to add a second circle, and then -- " Draw, draw, draw. " -- more symbols: for the Mother; for the Moon; for all things that abjure evil." Draw, draw, draw. "There. Like that. Then howl."
Which she does not demonstrate, as it isn't //quite// the time for city weirdness.
Trillium watches with a little exhale of the smoke studying it all with a nod of his head. Muttering the steps quietly to himself as that coin is taps trying to record it into his brain pan, with each method back and forth.
River hastens forward when called upon, and dutifully holds the stick. He is a keen little ritemistress' pet for the sake of the rite. He tilts his head to the side slightly, watching carefully the drawing - the circles and the symbolism. There are elements that he nods along to with thoughtful, frowning intensity, and others that he tilts his head to, plainly searching for parallels within his understanding of all that is. He gives a faint smile at the matter-of-fact recitation, before he suggests, "Maybe we could go to the Penumbra, for the rite itself?" <English>
"I can easily lead the way if that's the case- Either way, I want cleansing before I head back into the inner grounds." Jackie admits, still acting the subject.
Meg is, if anything, matter-of-fact.
"We can do that." She pauses a moment, as if thinking on something. "Yes, I think I'll be fine. There is an amount of spiritual energy that must be invested as well." Vague gesture. "I should be fine." Trust a mage to be a little waffley about what they can or cannot do. "I guess the lesson can continue there? Whoever is there can help out."
Road trip!
<< JACKIE LEADS EVERYONE INTO THE PENUMBRA. >>
The Upside Down is a foreboding place.
Still, Meg is naked and ready to start again. Armed with just her ashen stick, she gestures to Jackie. "Sit." So she can draw the circles again. And the symbols that go between them. "All right. Now, I will try to lead everyone in the howl. My suggestion? Go wolf or go home." Shrug. "But, you don't need to, and if you don't have the inclination, and you have the patience, be natural." And, with that, the diminutive Witch closes her eyes, and begins to hum gently, as if to find the right note.
Her howl comes after, high-pitched but practiced.
Trillium moves slowly his hand deep in his coat as he moves forward dedicated for the win, his hand is moving to pull out a join from inside of the pocket. As he sits down, with a wicked smile as he nods at Meg. "Let's do this, all primal and shit." His voice is happy as he leans back to wait, now as he makes a fuck face. "Shit, I didn't dedicate a god damn lighter or matches."
Trillium earns a brief glare and a quick snip of air. A rite was taking place- this was a moment of holy ceremony. Despite her manners, Jackie is of the more serious camp of theurges.
River glances over at Trillium when he pipes up and he too gives a gentle rebuke. There is a bump of elbow on arm, a little harder than he usually does, and a little head-shake. The Glass Walker finds himself around at least a couple of more serious Uktena. And then his body twists and wracks, bones splitting and re-setting, joints popping, as he drops into Lupus form - a wolf unlike many from around here, a Great Lakes wolf.
Trillium takes that joint out of his mouth as he nods at River, with a little chuckle at the bump. His hand is moves now to rest in front of him as he pops his neck with a twist of his neck and a loud sound. Than the bones start to pop, lock and shake as he snarls slowly. He is ready now, as he starts the change into a very big black dog, with a white around his mouth as he let's out a little yawn. His tongue is lapping along his gums, with a what seems to be a pouty eyes.
No knitting with her here, but Paige steps into the Umbra with the rest of the group. She nods as River and Jackie give Trillium a nudge (literally) about proper decorum during a rite. She also settles into her Lupus form, not quite so dissimilar from River's colouring in her Grey Wolf self.
Though she be little, she howl good.
No, really. For all of her sass and gloomy attire, Meg is a very good witch. And good witches can howl at the moon, which she does in the sanctity of the Penumbra, in an effort to demonstrate how to do clean a friend. Sure, it's not as sexy as how cats do it -- I mean, c'mon, all that tongue? -- but, surely, the Darkling who tamed the Lion has the sort of talent that is rare for someone of her renown or age. At least, it appears this way, at this time.
Goodness knows, the karma goblins are mean.
