2020-05-31 We Thrive Together
We Thrive Together
Participants: Flynn, Nate, Sandy, Snake, Vanguard's Roar
Location: The Bawn - Fremont Hotel Lobby
Date and Time: May 31st 2020
Summary: A triumph.
Deep within the earth is a lost piece of Los Angeles history - the Fremont Hotel. Thought demolished in 1955, it was instead sunk into the earth by the Garou of Los Angeles to serve as a place of respite. The formerly six-storied Mission style building is partially embedded in the earth as the land claimed its due of the agreement. The stone shifts in a transition to the yellow brick facade, with most of the front portions of the formerly L-shaped building still accessible, though a part of the retaining wall remains above as well. The original front balconies are still present, as are the red-tiled entry tower and scalloped parapets. The neon sign bearing the hotel name still hovers down the side of the tower, flickering in the cavern.
Inside the lobby, the mission style persists with cream stucco walls darkened over the decades, and pillars and ceiling beams of redwood with a grand iron chandelier. The floors aren't nearly as shiny as they once were and many of the tiles are cracked, but the deep tawny marble tiles still add a fleeting touch of elegance. A reception desk remains with the old wall of keys and mail slots next to a grand staircase. The windows glow with daylight or moonlight to reflect the world above the cavern, with electric and water supplied through the sept's means.
It's a cooler day up top, but down here as always the temperature remains fairly constant. As Luna's face wanes the atmosphere gets less tense, less moody Garou stalking around the place with pre-rage-faces on, and so it is that Nate has resumed his usual spot in the Fremont Hotel lobby, sat behind the desk writing notes in his notebook. Not serving the hotel (obviously), but it's a good place to find him if you've got a challenge issue.
Today however, he's had notes passed to Flynn, Sandy and Snake, suggesting a meetup to discuss important issues that have been bandied around in passing - those relating to pack. So he's put out a quartet of only-slightly-out-of-date soda cans, a bowl of bacon-flavoured chips, and is waiting.
Heading down into the Fremont Hotel is Sandy, dressed in a pair of loose fitted cargo pants and a sports bra that shows off the extent of scarring along her back and stomach, as well as her arms. The last few days she has been without her hoodie to cover them up. The weather is getting warmer and down below, she has no need to hide them. As she spies the large Ahroun, she makes her way over towards him. Sliding into a seat, she gives him a sunny smile, then gives a glance over towards the entrance to wait for the others. "Good morning." She says as she slips a backpack off her shoulder, then pulls out a box of AMB Mart donuts.
The crescent moon approaches, but not quiet, though the waning moon tends to make Flynn more introspective than cranky. The meeting ends up being right near one of his common haunts, as he often lurks in the Memorial Hall conversing with the pine spirit there and enjoying the quiet. In his homid form, he comes out of the doors of the Hall and makes his way to the lobby at the appointed time. "Hello." Is his quiet greeting as he moves to the table to join the others and claims one of the cans for himself.
Snake makes his way into the lobby, with a six-pack of imported beer and a fairly large paper bag that brings with it the scent of bread. "Hey, Nate, Sandy," he says. "Figured supplies'd be in order, but it looks like great minds and all that." He strolls on over to meet the others; apparently today is an Iron Maiden sort of day, by the shirt he's wearing, with a bizarre sort of zombie thing in an electric chair as the image.
"Sandy. Flynn. Snake." Nate greets each of the others in turn, gesturing to the chips and soda cans, then smiling briefly at the smell of doughnuts and bread. "Good supplies," he agrees, settling back in his chair, flipping his notebook to a new page and picking up his pencil. Should anyone glance at the notebook before the page is flipped, it seems he's pretty damn good at writing using glyphs, with a blunted pencil. Presumably he'll be continuing to do the same for any pack-related things being jotted down.
"Donuts and beer. Breakfast of champions." Sandy says as she opens up the box and pops out a sourcream old fashioned. She puts it on a napkin and tears it in half. "So, what's the sitch, Nate?" She says as she gives a nosy glance over towards his journal. Galliards love gossip.
Snake settles into a seat, then sets down the six-pack and rips open the paper bag. Fresh, hot, pretzels are revealed, but he gestures for the others to take one first if they want one - there's one each. "Prefer not eating sugar on an empty stomach," he rumbles, "But donuts and beer is always a great plan."
"Any breakfast is a good breakfast." Flynn says with all due lupus practicality as he cracks open the soda and helps himself to a pretzel, though the sideways glance towards donuts suggests that they will not be ignored. He busies himself with setting teeth to dough while his eyes turn back towards Nate. There's quick look down to the glyph notes - a practice he's been seen doing on his phone - and then his blue eyes flick back up to Nate to await further information.
"Pack," Nate responds to Sandy, very simply. He takes both a doughnut and a pretzel, never one to turn down free food - he'd have to hand in his Gnawer card surely if he did - sitting back and sinking his teeth into his pretzel, ripping off a chunk to slowly chew on. That single word is his only one for now, motioning with his doughnut-holding-hand to the three sat here with him.
Propping her chin up with one hand, Sandy takes a bite of her donut with the other, then wiggles it towards Nate. "Pack." She agrees, giving a glance over to Snake and Flynn, then back to the large Gnawer. "So, the four of us, huh?" She says with a lick of her lips. "Pretty much a core of badasses that are respected, feared, looked up to and hard working." She puts the donut down and leans back into her seat. "I'm a hundred percent on board with the three of you."
"Pack," says Snake, taking his pretzel and a can of beer, and settling back. "Weighty kinda topic, that, and not just because you guys are most of the heavyweights of the Sept. I'm honoured, and I'm in."
"All wolves need a pack, and it's been too long." Flynn says, his quiet voice wavering slightly with burgeoning hope that brightens the look in his eyes. His subdued joy is enough to distract him from the food at hand, which is saying something. "You are all honorable Garou. I am proud to call you brothers and sister. The sept will be stronger to see its officers - and those of many tribes - joined as a pack. There's too much division."
Nodding slowly as each of the other Garou gets thinking about the topic he brought up, the Ahroun shifts his gaze to Sandy, raising the question also of, "Logan?" He's met the guy a few times and has a solid respect for his work ethic and outlook on things from what he's learned through those interactions so far. And since Sandy knows him better than anyone (to his knowledge), the question goes first to her. To the other two guys he adds, "Kin membership?"
"If you feel comfortable with the idea, I know Logan would leap at the chance. He's military trained. Just did a tour of Afghanistan. He is also medically trained as an EMT, so having someone with hospital ties is good. He will see things come and go that he can report on. He is also looking to prove himself now that he is back home in Los Angeles. He's offered up his warehouse as a safehouse. Liam and I cleansed it the other day. It's sound proofed also and we're currently putting on some top of the line furnishings. Lots of rooms to crash at." Sandy says with a smile on her face, tucking some of that blonde hair back behind an ear.
Snake nods to Flynn. "You ain't wrong, not on any of that," he agrees, smiling. "Kin - eh. If they're useful, and /want/ to be part of what we're doing, sure. But I'm responsible for a lot of Kin, and I'm not going to push anyone." The beer gest cracked open, and Snake bites into his pretzel while the others speak.
"We protect *our* kin. We do not take kin from others who should be protected by their own packs." Flynn says, though he doesn't seem entirely settled on the phrasing if his partial raised lip and scrunched face is an indication. "It-- it is not our place to put them in danger. That is for their elder to decide." There's a gesture of his head towards Sandy as he takes a quick drink of soda. "I spoke with him. He told me about this place. He wants to serve the sept and he is Sandy's mate. We would watch over him."
There's another slow nod from Nate. He finishes his pretzel with one last large bite, then moves onto the doughnut. This lasts only two bites, and then he's licking sugar from his fingers. His gaze moves around the trio of others. "Purpose?" he then prompts, when the question of Logan joining sounds more-or-less settled.
"Purpose." Sandy echos as she straightens up. "We talked before and I gave several different view points. I'm curious to hear what Snake and Flynn may have on their mind before I ramble away."
Snake's head tilts a little to one side at the question, and then he nods. "A pack to be looked up to," he says quietly. "There's a lot of individuals in this town, and tribal ties and other stuff pulling on folks. But if we don't stand together, there ain't gonna be a Sept no more. We gotta be an example, because if we ain't, who will be?"
Flynn chews on a mouthful of pretzel as the questions and answers circle the table. He doesn't rush the bite as he mulls over the question and answers only once he's finished chewing, listening to Snake, and washing the bite down does he give a singular nod of his head. "He's right. We are leaders. We are each of a different tribe and auspice. There are many young Garou and new faces. They need to see leaders, they need to see we stand as one. This is our home. We stand and we fight, as we always have, and inspire others to fight or protect those who cannot."
There's nothing from Nate to add to this just yet, listening to the points put forth by the other three. He cracks open a can of only-just-expired Rio, sipping from it slowly and listening to each of the other Garou in turn, his expression thoughtful.
Giving a nod of her head, Sandy says, "I agree. A pack that seeks to create unity, to build bridges instead of tearing them down, and one of respect and leadership. A pack to look up to." She says as she gives a look to Nate with a lift of her brows upwards. "What do you think?"
Snake finishes off his pretzel, then reaches for a donut. He, too, looks to Nate expectantly. "Purpose?"
With the pretzel done, Flynn moves on to a donut - vanilla iced, sprinkles. Like the others, he looks expectantly to Nate. There is one further comment from him in the form of, "A totem to lead. A totem to fight. A totem to survive. As we do."
Tilting his head slightly, listening to Sandy's proposal then looking to Snake and Flynn, Nate murmurs, "Have rank. Have office. Have diversity. Leadership?" Having strung seven whole words together, he lets that idea out for the others to mull over, settling back with keen ears and eyes.
"Leadership then." Sandy says as she looks to the other two as well, giving a nod of her head. "The four of us are in agreement?" She asks, tapping her knuckles on the table twice, as if it was a gavel. "As far as totems go." She mulls the ideas over in her mind, then gives a look to Flynn. "What are you thinking about?"
Snake nods to Nate, then to Sandy. "Figure most of the totems of Respect aren't going to be that interested in us for one reason or another," he says. "I mean, we ain't exactly what most traditional Garou would think of as leadership material. Only thing we're really lacking there is a Metis. So, who leads /us/? I mean, not me, obviously, but who's in charge?"
The Theurge at the table takes a moment to swipe a few sprinkles from his face before approaching the venerable topic of totems. "*Not* Falcon or his brood." Flynn says with his teeth briefly set together. "But the totem will find us. Some of respect will look to us, if our reasons align. If we are united in our goal, the right totem will come." As Snake asks about the position of alpha, the Lupus ponders his soda. "We all have reasons why we should *not* be alpha. But if we are going to try and lead others, who will the sept respect?"
"Agreed," Nate affirms to Flynn's statement about Falcon. "Or Cockroach, Owl, Pegasus or their broods." He has Opinions(tm) it seems, though he doesn't appear inclined to share the reasons behind those opinions. He doesn't make any comment on leadership, letting the others put their thoughts out there first.
As she listens to the others, Sandy says after a minute of silence, "I will lead, if you trust in me. I am the tribe's Voice of the Goddess and I have Alpha Liam's respect and trust. I know that he supports me and I have many in my tribe here that look up to me for mentorship. But, if I am to lead, I want us to be a round table of thoughts and ideas. I will make the final call, but we all come together and agree on a decision. If we are to lead, we need to lead together. One voice, one heart, one beat."
Snake hehs. "Can't rightly say 'not me' and then object when someone steps up," he says. "You're all three of you people I'd follow. In my own way, off to one side, sure - but follow all the same."
"I will support you." Flynn says to Sandy. "We all respect the place of each auspice to lead in what we do best. We are sitting here choosing as a pack, not a king and commands. We will stand together." He glances skyward then to the ceiling of the lobby. "In ten days, the spirit moon will be up. We should seek a totem between then and the half moon - the leader's moon - to best honor the spirits. I know the rituals."
There is a nod from Nate as Sandy puts herself forward for the role. He has no objection it would seem, nor burning desire to seize the reins for himself either. He's got more than enough to do with his Sept office - and as she said, he can always take point on matters of war. "Agreed, then?" he asks quietly.
Putting her hand out in the middle of them, Sandy gives a warm smile to her new packmates, brothers, and family. "Agreed."
Snake sets his can down in order to put his hand on Sandy's. "Agreed," he rumbles, quiet but firm.
Flynn joins in the hand-stacking with a solemn look on his face, clearly finding something deep and meaningful in the subtle ritual. "Pack." He states the single word with conviction and then smiles, wide and delighted. "Family."
Rising from his seat and moving around from behind the reception desk, Nate rests a hand atop the others. It's a simple gesture, but yes, there's some meaning there to be had. "We thrive together."
