[Joss Lehrer] (tag you’re it!)
[Ezra Turk] *Slippery. Treacherous. Cold. – and the weather wasn’t great either. Ezra’s feet slide over rough ice and crunch through hard packed snow as he breaks a path down an uncleared sidewalk. The chill has barely managed to put pink across sallow cheeks, His hands tucked idly inside the pockets of a leather coat, shoulders hunched slightly against the mild cold. Because this is mild. Wail as much as they’d like, Chicago residents didn’t know cold. Still, he’d rather be curled up in a certain kinfolk’s bed, making her nervous as he watched her go about her mundane daily duties. Instead, he found himself outside, trudging hither and yon on a quest for Hazelnut icecream, as he was still pretending to be an attentive and affectionate creature, and knew that a twelve dollar box of icecream would wriggle him just a little further into the insipid girl’s good graces. Eyes skate, alert for any open convenience store. *
[Joss Lehrer] If there’s one thing Joss knows and knows well, it’s Ice Cream. Ok, she knows a lot of other things well too, but she happens to be an expert on Ice Cream and knows that the best of the best is Cold Stone Creamery – not some little corner store. Except for when CSC closes early, and there’s no where else to go. Which is what brings a certain Godi to this particular corner, at this particular time. This AM/PM has Chocolate Peanut butter Haagan Daas, and that’s exactly what she wants.
She is as she always is, despite the cold. Her skirts swish about her calves, her sweater hugs her slender form all the way to her hips. She’s got warm tights on though, under her skirts, and a pair of boots due to the snow, but other than that, her only concession to the cold is a knit hat pulled down over her dreads, and gloves on her fingers. Her Godi bag bounces at her hip as she moves, and she has one earbud in her ear, the other hanging around her neck, her iPod in hand as she dances – yes, dances – her way across the parking lot.
No doubt about it, the godi is weird.
[Ezra Turk] *Ezra’s feet fall slower as he sights the Godi grooving her way towards the same confection store he was intent on. His knobby fingers twitch, stretch, and begin to tap along the cold leather of his jacket. It was the Fenrir. The same one who’d been dancing last time he’d seen her, be it in far more pleasing attire. Interesting. He approaches her from the side, all cheshire grin, though his movements are those of one predator meeting another in neutral territory. Appraising. His ears strain for the song she dances to.*
[Joss Lehrer] Today’s dance seems to be a waltz with an invisible partner, her arms head up as if resting lightly hand in hand, hand on shoulder, of a taller man, who leads her through the steps. The Godi is graceful, and light on her feet as she mimics what she’s seen in movies, as she hums along under her breath, before singing along as well… softly, as she’s not exactly possessing the voice of an angel…
“[i]Why are there so many
Songs about rainbows
And what’s on the other side
Rainbow’s are visions
They’re only illusions
And rainbows have nothing to hide
So we’ve been told and some chose to
Believe it
But I know they’re wrong wait and see
Someday we’ll find it
The Rainbow Connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me…[i]”
Yes. The Godi is dancing to a song sung Kermit The Frog – oddly fitting, of course, for those that know her…
And of Ezra? She’s unaware… for now.
[Joss Lehrer] (Wow, coding fail, Lessa. *L*)
[Ezra Turk] *Chill bony fingers close around Joss’s hand, a voice crackling as they do so.*
Mind If I lead.. MmmmmMMMm?
*There really was no resisting that. Wary or not. The shadowlord’s grin pointed as he makes to twirl the Fenrir out from him. Eyes lit with manic interest.*
[Joss Lehrer] She snaps her head in his direction as his fingers close over hers, and tips her head slightly. There’s a little grin that plays across her lips as she’s spun out from him, and she spins back to rest her hand lightly on his shoulder. “I’d be delighted…”
And she is, clearly, as her eyes shine with mirth and good humor, her rage a subtle heat at the very core of her, the Chicago breeze itself seeming to dance about her, tugging her skirts, her dreads, more so than it does him, as if she is privy to some secret, some companion that only she knows about.
[Ezra Turk] *The dance takes on a new life, fingers patting against Joss’s as they moves through the ice and slush, not as graceful as when the Godi danced alone.*
What is your name, woodsprite?
*He asks after they’ve danced a few rotations in the parking lot, his smile as delighted, but a good deal less sunny than the whimsical Godi’s. Ezra’s smile was one of a boy who’d just spent the afternoon frying ants with a magnifying glass. Glee at a steep price. *
[Joss Lehrer] It’s not as graceful, but certainly a step up from dancing alone. She follows his lead easily enough, for all that she is Fenrir, and born to lead herself. The hardest lesson for a Leader to learn is when to step back and let another have that small bit of control. His hand is cool, where her’s is warm even through the mittens, as is her back, where his other hand rests and guides the dance. His smile is wicked, her’s is pure joy in the simple things…
…Have you been half asleep
and have you heard voices
I’ve heard them calling my name…
“Woodsprite?” she questions, amused, then adds “I’m Joss Lehrer.”
[Ezra Turk] *The name rings a bell. A sept official. A fenrir.. the ..AH! The “theurge council representative” or whatever such cosmopolitan nonsense. He chuckles around a throat full of shattered glass.*
Ah yes. Ezra Turk. I’ve seen you dancing once before. MmmMMMm? Perhaps you could answer me a theological question.. of sorts..
[Joss Lehrer] “I’m not surprised… many have. They think..” and here she pauses dramatically, all wide-eyed innocence and sparkling laughter “…I’m weird.”
Which, of course, she is. But it’s often a good kind of weird, not the scary kind… most of the time. She looks intrigued by this question, however, and smiles.
“Of course. I’d be happy to answer your question, if I can.”
[Ezra Turk] *An image comes unbidden to dance in front of black eyes, and so he shuts them a moment, dipping the Godi low as he rasps.*
What, you little ice nymph, is Gnosis?
And why –
*She’s drawn back up with a snap, Ezra nearly clanging their heads together with a sharp grin. Hands warming through her sweater, breath coiling steamily in the air.*
Do some garou accumulate more than others.. mmMM?
[Joss Lehrer] He dips her and she laughs in delight, her back arching prettily just before she’s snapped upright once more, narrowly missing getting a good head butt in the process. His hands are warmer, now, and she notes that fact somewhere in the back of her mind.
She knows that he is Garou, she can feel it within him, his rage clashing with her own, though it is not so strong as hers. And that he speaks so easily suggests he knows her too…
“Did not your mentor’s teach you of such things?” it is merely a holding point, while she gathers her thoughts in how to answer it most effectively.
And answer she does, as clearly as one can for such an abstract concept… “Gnosis is the material form of our connection to Gaia, our spirituality one could say. As for those who accumulate more than others, it is often so simple as this; some pay more attention, some work to achieve a deeper spirituality, a stronger connection to Gaia in all her glory. In such knowledge comes power, in such openness to the greatness of the Mother herself, do we become closer to her.”
[Ezra Turk] Of course, but it never does to take things for granted….
*Crackling laughter as he dances her around the parking lot, hair like a black bonfire atop his head. He’s all glinting eyes and flashing teeth, fingers beating a steady rhythm upon her hand. He’s unsettling, with his oily charm and cagey confidence. Twitchy. The dull thrum of his rage barely noticeable in comparison to Joss’s own. Ezra continues.*
But.. what is that connection, mmmMMm? What does it mean, to be connected?
[Joss Lehrer] Her steps never falter, though her gaze is distant as he asks his questions, and she formulates her answers. The song has changed on the ipod, but she doesn’t notice, as it is his lead she follows in the steps of the dance.
“To be connected is everything. Without it we are lost here, without the ability to see Gaia’s true beauty, without the ability to see across the veil. Without it, we are merely Kinfolk, fighting for something we can never fully understand. It is as much a part of us as our Rage… without it, we are not Garou at all.”
[Ezra Turk] Then are those that have very little, our full moons, our galliard, less garou as a result?
*He chuckles, playing the devil tonight, question after question, going in circles just as he danced the Godi in circles, twirling her dizzily until her dreads fly out behind her. He can’t quite resist letting go, sending her careening into a parked car as he laughs and shakes his head.*
And there are kinfolk, that are blessed with that connection. Are they garou, by that definition?
[Joss Lehrer] “Ah but you quibble the technicalities…” He spins her and she spins and spins and spins until she thumps against a parked car. She is Fenrir, and many would expect a spike of rage, but instead all he gains for the antics is her laughter, full and free and threaded with something so innocently pure it aches.
Too bad she’s also a monster, a Fostern, a Godi and Fenrir that can kill as easily as she smiles…
“It is the combination of both that makes us what we are. Our connections, our spirituality are given to us to aid us in our ultimate duty. The Ahroun has little gnosis, but a great amount of Rage for he is our Warrior, likewise the Theurge a greater gnosis, for it is the world of the Spirits that we must know, for our war is Spiritual in nature…”
She chuckles and shrugs. “A kinfolk with gnosis is a precious thing indeed, and should be treasured for they are so very rare…”
[Ezra Turk] *Did he ever want to rebound her head off the hood of that Chevy Corolla. Eyes float nearly shut, slitted through long lashes as he regards her. Tries to absorb her opinion and her potential wisdom even through the red haze of sadism that holds his lean form still. Fingers begin to tap once more. Control exerted over himself, small measure by small measure. Fingers, tap… Eyes, shut. Smile, broadens. He inhales a deep breath of icy air and snaps his eyes open. Wiggling his fingers and rasping.*
Keep your dance card open.. mMMm? We’ll talk again.
*And with that he abandons his plans for icecream, and makes to leave.*
[wp to avoid compulsion!]
[Joss Lehrer] She gathers her skirts in her fingers, and drops him a curtsy, coupled with an impish smile. “A pleasure, Ezra.”
And oddly, it was, for she is unaware of the compulsion that dances dangerously close to the surface, and once more her destination becomes the Am/Pm, and the ice cream selection within.
[Ezra Turk] [le fade]
[Joss Lehrer] [Thank you, lovely!]