Joss | Testing the Foresti [Many and Marcus]

She had taken her time to learn the area around the Brotherhood. Now that she was on two legs, and had to remain on two legs for most of the time that she spent outside of the umbra, she was slowed down enough that she could learn things.

And, almost as importantly, Bones to Dust sat out that day to do something that one could consider laughable.

She had been job hunting.

Marrick didn’t have a lot going for her in the way of jobs; she couldn’t waitress because she made people instinctively avoid her. It wasn’t good for tips. She couldn’t work at a gas station or a retail shop because of the same things. Which, of course, was all the same becuase Marrick simply didn’t have the desire to work that closely in an enclosed, sterile, oppressive, disturbing disgusting environment like a strip mall.

So, that left manual labor. Which was much more up Marrick’s alley.

She cleared her throat, and went to go look for Boy. No more working. Work was over. Time to play. Marrick stood in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear.

The Litany was the rules of the garou and this was one of the most hotly contested of them all. He stood up, knowing that sitting would not do this ruling justice.

“No one half-moon will ever have the same thoughts on the matter. Something that was driven into me during my fostern challenge. However this is one part of the litany you may find yourself curious as to why I believe the way I do.”

He paused as he looked at Lukas, a gathering had come about the room now. But this was something asked of a Philodox, something he had to offer. Even if others did not share his views.

“Among the nation, the children of Gaia are among the most… receptive of those that are born through this disgrace. Metis are freely accepted among my own. However one must ask the reason why this tenant was set upon us. Many believe it is to ensure that there are more warriors to fight this war. Because if we only mate with our own kind then we will have no future generations to look upon to fight. However this arguement does not hold water when we discuss matters of homosexual matters.”

He coughed and then looked down.

“However this is not the case. One who is mated, one who have kin, one who know the joy that this brings is important. We are born both of wolf and human. Yet we are apart of neither. We are Garou. But that is not what Gaia wants for us. Her chosen warriors. She does not want us to be isolated from her own, seperated from our kin. To find solace in the arms of our own kind, to neglect our kin for the embrace of our brethen, divides us from the world Gaia wished us to be apart of. The reason we fight, we fight for those that cannot and to understand the deep importance of this we can never be seperated from them.”

He stopped. His diatribe done for the moment.

Here comes one tromping up the stairs – fairly skipping, even. Balanced in her hands is a plate piled high with chilli cheese fries. That they GAVE her. This living at the Brotherhood thing might work out JUST fine, just sayin’. She’d intended to move past the common room and on into her own – room, but there’s people. A lot of people all the sudden. So instead, she moves across the room, with a grin in passing for Evan, before she pulls a beer from her pocket, sets it on the table, than flops on the easy chair to partake of her greasy messy cheesy fried treat, tucking her bare feet up under her thighs in crisscrossapplesauce. (Indian style for those still rockin it old school)

She doesn’t interrupt, she only partially listens as she watches everyone all at once – or tries too – though truth be told she watches and listens to Evan the most. She has her reasons.

“So what you’re saying is,” he rephrases Evan back to himself, testingly, “that law of the Litany was posed not to prevent Metis, but to encourage Garou to maintain their bonds to their kin. So any Garou-Garou fornication is to be considered forbidden. Do I understand you correctly?”

Oh, That was Marrick.

“Hey. Glad your here.”

And indeed, his face did seem to lighten. His brows were slightly less knitted, and the corners of his mouth less down-turned. He glanced at the other garou in the common room, And then back at Marrick, a strange and confused look on his face at first. But eventually that gave way to diffidence.

“Right. You feel like going out? Just lemme get my sweater.”

She glanced at Boy, standing around in their room. Marrick seemed to have settled in already. Some of the contents of her backpack-and-shoebox combination was unpacked. There were a couple pictures on the wall by her bed. Corners torn on one, another older than she was. Neither were of her or her family, but she held fondness for them just the same.

“And, assuming I don’t bomb things in the next couple weeks I might have a job,” she said. So, you don’t have to worry. I’ll take care of us, she said without saying.

He looked among the others, wondering.

She sets it on the table, and continues to listen as she works her way through her plate of food. Evan’s lil speech gets a raised brow, but she maintains her silence. She is no halfmoon, though she likely has her own ideas on it. Everyone does.

A pause. Then, wry, “Just having a chat about the Litany. I don’t think I recognize any of you. I’m Lukas Wyrmbreaker, of the Unbroken Circle.”

He smiles a bit at Joss, and holds up his right hand as if to say ~No thank you~, and then he drops his little smile, along with his hand. He looks at the conversation, glancing about the room at the various people in it before his gaze settles back on the two Garou on the couch.*

Stopping at the bar, James procured a six pack of Budweiser before heading on up the stairs. Tonight he wore jeans and a grey hoody over top of a white t-shirt as well as his boots.

An eye around, and he just caught the end of Evan’s diatribe. A bit of a smirk – the Half-Moon was doing his duty, the Galliard saw. But whether or not James had any reservations over one man screwing another it was anyone’s guess. He just knew that he wasn’t going to be anyone betty-boy any time soon.

Oh, there was something else on the bed. He didn’t have to go far for the pamphlets. Although far was something relative. He presented the free brochures to Marrick now.

“So…there’s the planetarium, and the Sears tower. And there’s this thing called the Magnificent Mile. I figured we could….”

She lifts a hand to wave at James, the grin for him warmer than for any other – so far. Her plate is in her lap, and she’s got her bare feet tucked up under her, her skirt smoothed over her knees. Other than that – it’s a simple tank top tonight, and her dreads are tied back at the base of her neck, keeping them out of her food.

Then, on second thought – she DOES have a question. But she holds it back for now.

It was a great unknown for both of them, why not venture into the fray and make it less daunting?

“Let’s go to the mile first. Tomorrow? We can go hit up the Sears tower and the planetarium and… ohhh man, they probably have awesome parks here,” she said. There was quiet excitement in that.

And since everyone seems shy, she swallows what’s in her mouth, then lifts her beer toward Lukas. “Joss Lehrer, Gossamer Wing, Fostern Godi.”

“Marcus Schwarzkopf, Two Ravens, Claith Philadox of the Fenrir from the Wind Horse Sept in Pine Ridge South Dakota Rhya.”

This time he leads their movement on the way out, talking all the way. Which is more talk than he’s done to anyone else since they’ve been here.

“So what’s this job? Should I get one?”

Lukas demanded an introduction, and James followed suit after a nod of hello to his packmate, Evan. “James Wagner, Sandman tae th’ Nation o’ Garou. Fostern Galliard o’ Stag, o’ Eagle’s Chosen.”

There wasn’t much in the way of pride in his voice as the Irishman spoke, but more that the Fianna was giving statement of fact. Some of Joss’ fries were snaked and promptly munched on as he cracked open a beer and sat back to relax on the couch. A nod for Marcus, whom he’d recently met, and any others that he knew.

Back to Marcus, then: “I assume you overheard my conversation with Evan-rhya? What’s your take on that law of the Litany, Yuf?”

“I am Evan “Judgement of Sterling Silver” McCollach. Fostern Philodox of the Children of Gaia. Beta of Eagle’s Chosen.”

This time he leads their movement on the way out, talking all the way. Which is more talk than he’s done to anyone else since they’ve been here.

“So what’s this job? Should I get one?”

He stopped just then, apparantly having walked out and then back in on introductions. The shift of focus to the two strangers (Strangers? Oh US!) froze him in place.

“Uh….I’m Boy.”

And is that how you were taught to introduce yourself? He takes a quick breath, and a reassuring glance to his companion.

“I’m Boy. Brother of the Lost. Uktena Cliath Philodox.”

That carried a bit more pride, and just enough humility.

To Marcus and Boy, then: “I assume you overheard my conversation with Evan-rhya? What’s your take on that law of the Litany, Yufs?”

If he finds it odd that Boy’s name is apparently ‘Boy’, Lukas doesn’t show it. Then again, he probably assumes he’s Lupus.

At the comment about his hat, she just grins. It’s not a grin that should make him WANT his hat back, by any means. She is Godi. Gaia knows what she’s rigged up for that hat should he touch it again. At least she doesn’t deny being a thief. “Should be more careful where ya put your hat from now on.”

Marcus and Boy are asked their opinion on the Litany, and she falls quiet to listen once again.

They passed through the common room, namely because the ahroun was… well, she wanted to see what was going on. They passed through, and with that, they were asked to introduce themselves. She looked at the people nearby, and there she was. All blonde and strength and every inch of her a Black Fury.

Oh, fuck. Introductions. She smiled, and while she seemed personable, her smile was a little too feral, her canines a little too sharp. Her grace a little too animalistic to be anything other than a predator.

“Oh!” she said. “I’m Marrick. Marrick Fisher, Bones-to-Dust. Ahroun, Cliath, Black Fury.”

All said with equal weight and importance.

You may have the best of intentions in all things. One may convince themselves that he or she is not breaking the Litany. After all we Garou can form passionate bonds, life bonds in packs which are tempered to hardened steel in the press of combat. But if we forget the Litany, give into our urges, even if they are natural, and we split hairs, like lawyers and say “Oh it’s just sex” or “No child is produced” then where will it end? What other parts of the Litany will we bend to suit our own desires. No even if no harm results immediately that does not mean it won’t down the road. We can never forget who we are, and what is forbidden to us. That is the burden we carry as Garou. It is our charge to carry out as warriors for Gaia.”

And suddenly he’s looking elsewhere, looking at some unoccupied spot beyond the doorway. Looking and listening. And then he speaks, and a lot more confidently so.

“I think, Judgement -Rhya, raises a good point, though from un unsure angle. He assumes that the those who passed down the Litany predicted the greater importance of remaining close to Kin than of ensuring the purity of the offspring.

That’s not to say that he isn’t right…It just means that….things change. And we change with them.”

He glanced at Marrick for a second, then at the rest of them.

“I dunno. I’d need to think about it more.”

A pause.

“My pack might raise his issue more specifically at the next moot,” he adds. “I might call on your wisdom again if that happens.”

“Now I must ask you something Lukas. If I may?”

He motioned to a corner of the room, not wishing to bring the point up openly. There were multiple points to this that he wanted to ask.

The Moot. The Sept. Maelstrom. The two of them needed to have a talk.

“So uh…What’s this job?”

“So, Marcus.” She pauses as she takes a swig of her beer, finishing it off and stealing one of James’ 6-pack. “We have to remember them all, and the Litany is our burden to bear. We’re to maintain the letter of that law, yes? Of each and every one, and be careful of how we shift and change with the times, to maintain our hold on the old ways, the traditions of our forefathers. S’that what your saying?” Idly curious, and she’s no ragabash to question, she just makes conversation.

“So, would ya define “Mate” for me. According to the law – as it says Garou shall not mate with each other.”

She’s always curious. It’s something for a flaw. A enjoyable one, though.

The pair retreat to a corner of the room. They discuss things — voices low, private. When they’re finished, Evan may or may not return to the crowd. Lukas does not: the Ahroun leaves the room and, shortly thereafter, returns in street clothes, lingering only long enough to descend the stairs and head out for the night.

(off to bed, folks! thanks for the RP!)

“Yeah, so, I was looking at the docks. They might need help loading and unloading stuff, and I figured I’m built like a damned work horse, give me a good outlet.”

Even so, as he continually stole french fries from Joss he nodded slightly toward Evan. The man was his beta, equal in rank, yet a Half-Moon nontheless. He wouldn’t argue. In fact, James was strangely silent. As far as he knew the only Galliard present, he wouldn’t express his opinion unless asked for it.

Instead he offered one of his beers to Evan, then Joss.

(Sorry I missed this earlier:)

“Aye,” he said to Lukas. “Might o’ met b’fore. I hang ’round ‘ere from time tae time.”

She tips her head, slightly, curious – listening. Then to Marcus as Evan asks Lukas to step aside, breaking up the larger group.

“So, Marcus.” She pauses as she takes a swig of her beer, finishing it off and stealing one of James’ 6-pack. “We have to remember them all, and the Litany is our burden to bear. We’re to maintain the letter of that law, yes? Of each and every one, and be careful of how we shift and change with the times, to maintain our hold on the old ways, the traditions of our forefathers. S’that what your saying?” Idly curious, and she’s no ragabash to question, she just makes conversation.

“So, would ya define “Mate” for me. According to the law – as it says Garou shall not mate with each other.”

She’s always curious. It’s something for a flaw. A enjoyable one, though.

Now mating is seperate from love. I define mating in regards to the Litany as a sexual act, usually but not always for the purpose of producing children. Thus that doesn’t mean Garou cannot express love for one another, in fact they should, but the physical act of sex should never take place between Garou in any form, under any circumstances.”

She grins at him, and tips her head. “So – when it comes to our kin… what say you to if they happen to be attracted to the same sex? Not necessarily garou, but that could happen as well. If mate = sex, do we police who they’re fuckin too? There aren’t enough Garou to go around, of course, and Kin/Kin relationships breed true at sometimes too, so how would you handle it if two female kinfolk fell in love, and a male garou wanted to mate with one of them? Or vice versa?”

Yup, still making conversation. Curious. Testing the Foresti, as it were.

For Kin it is different. If two women want to love each other, go for it. Same with men, or anything in between. If it’s between consenting adults it’s fine. When it comes to a Garou mating with Kin…” *He pauses and exhales a bit thinking.* “We Garou have to be much more careful in our actions. It is easy for us to demand of kin, all manner of things, but certain things we should never demand. We must remember they are our people. A Garou should never demand sex from a kin. As Garou we must hold ourselves to the highest possible example. That is our check against the Wyrm.”

Sexuality is complicated. Aaaaaaaaaamen.

She nods, then, and takes a swing of the new beer she’d gotten from James, and then holding it bottle loosely between her fingers she gestures with it as she ask the next question. “An if a Garou wanted to mate with the same sex kinfolk..?”

She doesn’t say well done – but there’s the sense that he’s prove himself a worthy Foresti in her eyes. As if it matters to anyone but her at this point.

A light shrug. “Though I wouldnae presume t’tell ye yer business, Forseti. Th’Fianna were th’first tae create a metis.”

She laughs up at James and pokes him in the ribs. “The passionate Fianna not minding sex all the way around. What a shocker. Marcus, I could tell you stories bout this one… cept he’s the songster, I’m not. I, of course, am the very picture of innocence in all ways.”

….yeah. sure. THAT’S the ticket.

Then an eyebrow cocked and he looked down at the Godi beside him. “Och, I’ll ‘ave it right ‘ere an’ now that I’ve ne’er indulged m’self wit’ any bloke r’gardless o’ race, creed, color ‘r breed. And I’ll also be ‘avin’ ye know th’ most Fianna ‘r nae s’ tolerable o’ metis ‘s m’self. Th’way I’m fer seein’ it? Th’end days ‘r comin’ an’ we’re needin’ all th’ claws we kin get ‘t th’ moment. All Garou’re precious, nae just th’ lupus ‘r ‘omid.”

A light sigh as he shook his head, then he chuckled. “Aye ‘n I could be tellin’ ye stories o’ this one,” he said as he jerked a thumb at her. ” ‘Course that’s neither ‘ere nor there.”

She doesn’t ask what she really wants to know though, if James had spoken to Decker, if there’s anything she can do to get a meeting faster, becuase if she sits here and eats cheese fries everyday she’s going to get fat.

…probably not.

“Marcus, you mentioned the other night that you were here on a quest to learn about Fenrir? Ya have any questions for me, I’ll do my best to answer, since you were patient with mine it’s the least I can do in return.

Which brought him to his next question, for both Joss and Marcus equally. “D’any o’ ye know o’an ancient Get o’ Fenris pack called th’ Red Shields? I ‘ad a dream about ’em.”

Then James mentions one who fell recently, and she looks up to meet his gaze. “…oh no. She died well?” Not that she would believe she died any other way. Fenrir die with honor and glory tangled in tooth and claw. “If there’s anything…” she adds, and then shifts the other way in the chair to lean against James, comfortably, comforting.

She shakes her head though, about the Red Shields. “No, but I can see if the spirits know of them if you tell me more…”

A deep intake of breath, and James took upon him the visage of someone beginning to tell a story. The two might feel as though they were seated around a fire with a skald beginning to tell a tale of death and glory. ” ‘N m’ dream, I saw through th’ eyes o’ Bergan mac Cumhail; th’ Fenrir called ‘im Coldspear ‘n their language. Their leader was Urs Giant-Claw. Most o’ what I ‘member ‘is they was goin’ up river by boat, an’ was attacked by enemy forces. Mighten be o’er Garou, mighten be Wyrmlings. I’m nae s’ sure.”

By the way he was speaking, it was more of a nightmare than a dream. His hand unconciously went to his chest. “I felt ‘s though I was Bergan. E’en th’ spear through ‘is chest, I felt ‘is pain. M’ mem’ry is foggy o’ most o’ th’ events, but ‘nevitably Bergan was slain an’ a few o’ers o’ th’ Red Shields.”

“The spirits, may be an Ancestor, they might be telling you to find more of the story, perhaps even from him beyond the grave, to remember his tale well enough to sing it again to your Tribe. I can see if I can ask a spirit to aid, to fly and find more info if you like, before you run off halfcocked on a halfbaked mission of some sort.” She knows well the Impulsive Irishman.

“From what I gather, ‘e’s buried deep intae Russia’s wilderness on a river,” James said with another light shrug. “Was thinkin’ th’next we go tae Storm ‘Ammer t’ ask ‘ny o’ th’ elder Skalds there if’n they know.”

He lifts her up, steals her seat and deposits her back in his lap as if she’s a child, and she? Lets him, laughing. She wriggles around until comfortable herself, and smiles. “Might be nothing, or just the spirits telling you to mind any flying spears that might take your heart out.”

With that, James patted the girl’s head and nodded to Marcus. “Be seein’ th’ both o’ ye,” and the Fianna exited.

“So, settling in ok?”

She doesn’t elaborate, but as she’s shown before, if he has questions she’ll answer them. She swings her legs, bouncing them a bit as if she isn’t one to sit still for very long. Hard to believe that she can sit and meditate, commune with the spirits for hours on end without moving a muscle – yet it’s true.

“I’m just glad there’s a place like this here. Lets me save my cash for important stuff for now. I figured I’d have to mooch off James at first.” Not that that would be a bad thing. The songsters got cash to spare.

“Decker Rohl is Modi and Adren – Tribal leader. Silence, they call him. His father leads Storm Hammer, the sept I traveled from. I heard…” and here her eyes sparkle as if she’s telling a secret of the utmost importance. “…that to become the Tribal leader here he took on 5 other Fenrir in a ROW, and stood barely harmed at the end…”

She flops back again and chuckles. “I’d spar with ya, but I doubt I’d be any challenge.”

And there’s that impish grin again. “When it comes to putting, oh I dunno, little electrical spirits in say… a hat.. so that it’s a shocking experience to wear it… THAT is more my speed…” She’s clearly planning something with the stolen hat she took from James the other night. Picking on a Godi is dangerous business.

…like she’s anything close to normal, in any form. “I can see that, though. The concentration and such. OH! There was once a visitor to Storm Hammer? And he did the most beautiful dance combat thing – he was from Brazil. It was awesome.”

She turns back to look at him, and arches a brow. “You think I’m nuts, don’t ya…”

Of course, they still have half of James’ 6 pack sitting on the table too.

She also, apparently is somewhat ADHD. Look, something shiny….

“Jerky? That ain’t dinner. Jenny – she’s the one that runs this place – always has food for us, and beer too. There’s some stew bubbling on the back of the stove downstairs, and a fridge that she said I could help myself out of earlier. Thats what this place is for – to ensure we aren’t trying to survive on Jerkey. As for the beer – This is James’ and he left it here for me, and I declare that you can have one if you want – and since he left it on my table.” Simple enough.

“Minnesota, the Sept of the Storm Hammer. This is the first time I’ve been away.” She sighs, softly. She misses home, her family, though it’s colored by the excitement of the new city, and finding her footing here.

Questions questions and more questions. She is a curious one.

Hardly any trouble, anyway…

(Thanks for playing!)