[Eztli Montoya] (on a scale of one to ten…)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 6 (Failure at target 6)
[Eztli Montoya] Eztli should have been doing a bunch of other things, like figuring out who and what she was going to pack with. What she was going to do when she moved out of her cousin’s house, and what she was going to do with the rest of her day.
Instead, the theurge was on her paws- the caern was one of the few places that she could stand around, smell the air, and feel at home. It was different. it wasn’t like other places. This was a city caern, and it didn’t feel like Mazatlan or anywhere she had been in Mexico.
It was getting cold. Of course she was going to be wearing a form with fur.
Eztli was a different sort of creature in the umbra. Her shadow seemed too solid, her eyes too bright. The Uktena’s limbs were still the same, long and lean and held no overt strength. Her tale swished idly, and she trotted off to go sit by the lake’s edge. She had to talk to the water again; it didn’t get a lot of company.
Besides, why not get to know the spirits here?
[Joss Lehrer] She has been here for some time, time enough to lose herself deep in her meditation, to slow her breathing, to have communed long and single-mindedly with the spirit within her, centering herself once more by the shores of Maelstrom.
She takes a final breath, long and slow, and opens her eyes, just in time to see a form sliding, gliding, moving toward the water’s edge. She watches a moment, and then turns her gaze to Maelstrom, and bows her head for another moment, two, than a third – thanking Maelstrom for his attention, for his strength, for all that he is to those in Chicago. Eyes open again, she unfolds to stand, gracefully, her skirts falling against her calves as she shakes them out. She slips her bare feet (..cold? really?) into her nearby flats and adjusts her godi bag behind her right hip – the strap cutting diagonal across her torso up to the opposite shoulder.
Only then does she turn again toward the lake, and the newcomer there – one who is a little too solid, a little too bright. There is no hesitation as she moves in that direction, her hands tucked idly into her pockets.
She moves with an innate grace, speaking of the beast that resides within her, the blood that flows within her veins speaking of her Fenrir heritage, the blood of warriors – Not as strong as some, but strong enough to be noticed.
She comes to a quiet stop next to Eztli, but doesn’t say anything – simply looks out over the water.
[Eztli Montoya] Tail twitches, and the theurge’s ears perk up. The female cocks her head to the side and looks at Joss. Odd, because it seemed like her shadow looked at the Godi a second faster than Eztli did. The female stepped back and to the side.
Do you need a word alone? she asked. It was more via a chuff, a look, a flick of the tail. The thing with wolves was that so much of language was communicated via body posture and deference. Who do they choose to stand up to and back down from.
Fur was brown. Browns and greys and whites. But, her legs are long, her ears are long, something about her was intent on the godi for now.
[Joss Lehrer] Here, by the water, the umbral breeze tugs and pulls at long dreads, that hang heavy over the godi’s shoulders, down her back, tugging at the flyaway edges, the ribbons hidden in the depths, the beads sliding, clicking with the movement born of her shaking head.
“No. I came to say hello to you, and welcome you to Chicago. I’ll step back if you’ve not finished.”
Her smile is easy, warm – and reaches her eyes, something that seems at complete odds with the taste of Fenrir under her skin….
[Eztli Montoya] The wolf stopped. And blinked.
You are the first person to say that, she said without having to say. The Uktena was more-than-interested in Joss, and looked on her like she was a different sort of creature. A Fenrir, yes, but one whose presence was warm and easy. She stood like a contradiction, and curiosity dictated that she explore this more thoroughly.
Lleva la Aurora, she tells her. Uktena crescent moon. Cliath.
[Joss Lehrer] “Am I?” She shakes her head, slightly, then sinks to a crouch, her skirts fluttering about her to fall to the ground, the edges dusty enough to suggest it is a common occurrence. She crosses her arms lightly over her knees, and nods to the introduction.
“I am Joss Lehrer, Gossamer Wing, Fostern Godi and Omega of the Eagles. It’s nice to meet you.”
Somewhere in her blue eyes shines a strength that speaks of her heritage, lingering behind the easy smile, the warm welcome. She is a contradiction, the opposite side of the same Fenrir coin – unique, perhaps, or simply unphased by stereotype.
A pause… “Lleva la Aurora… what does it mean?”
[Eztli Montoya] She stops, and then is more than ready to explain.
Then? She seems to decide against it, and instead adopts a more human form in order to do so. She’s a tall female, six feet tall and thin. Her limbs are still long, but it’s easy to tell exactly how much muscle mass she lacks when in her breed form. In a tank top and jeans, however, it’s also a little hard to mark her as someone distinctly feminine. Her lips aren’t too full. Her hair is dark, her eyes are darker.
“Llevar… it’s-” she pauses “-it means a lot of things. Llevar is to wear, to lead, to have, or to tolerate. So, she leads the dawn. She wears the dawn. She possesses the dawn, she tolerates the dawn.”
A pause.
“How did you get your name?”
[Joss Lehrer] She looks up as the woman shifts – though once she does so she is not distinctly female, though it seems not to bother Joss at all, one way or another. She sees a form tall, lean, and dark. Joss, for her part, listens, her head tipped to the side as she watches her, not bothering to straighten to stand again, comfortable as she is, unconcerned when Eztli towers above her.
She nods her understanding, as she explains. “It’s a beautiful name.” And then she laughs – light and soft, musical almost, as she is asked for her own story. she lifts her hand, and pulls down theneck of her sweater, to show the small tattoo – two bats just below her collar bone, each with a small diamond stud in the center.
Her tongue runs across the piercings in her lip, and then she smiles. “It is from my right of passage. We were shrouded in darkness during our mission, and I convinced two small bat spirits to lead us through via sonar. It is their wings that I am named after, for they saved us that night, allowing me to lead our team through the dark so that the mission a success instead of the disaster it could have been.”
[Eztli Montoya] It doesn’t seem to bother Joss, and it doesn’t seem to bother Eztli either. She is distinctly underweight right now; one gets the impression that if she would fill out she’d be a bit more feminine. As it stands, she’s not and it’s not seeming to hurt her confidence. She’s likable, in a strange way.
She looks at the tattoos, and her expression lightens and her natural inclination is to look, to touch, and to inspect. It makes her smile, lips upturned to reveal bright white teeth.
“Clever, rhya,” she says, she compliments. She gives a solid nod, and for now has bit back the urge to look at any of Joss’s other pieces of body art. Her tattoos, her dreds, her piercings. She’s art- it keeps her attention.
[Joss Lehrer] She laughs softly, noting the curiosity, and how well Eztli holds back. She is used to the looks, the curiosity, and as a curious creature herself, understands how it is to want to know. Doesn’t matter what, there’s that desire to simply understand.. everything.
She waves away the Rhya. “Just Joss is fine – I save all that other stuff for formalities. When i have too..” she makes a face, and grins up at the other woman. “You think that’s clever, you should see my spirit drum…”
That look right there? Pure mischief.
[Eztli Montoya] There are things that you tell an Uktena, and there are things that you don’t tell an Uktena. You don’t tell them I have something shiny and secretive, or I have something interesting that you don’t know about or even Don’t look in there.
“Well, how’d you get that? Where is it?”
Joss baited the female so easily, and she went for it. There was something bright and shiny and hinted at mischief, of course the cliath would take the bait
[Eztli Montoya] (close that tag!)
[Joss Lehrer] She laughs softly, and nods. She knows exactly what the next question would be – and runs her hand over her ass to tuck her skirts under her, before settling to sit on the ground instead of crouching above it. The ground may seem chill to some, but she is Fenrir, and from Storm Hammer. It is still high summer as far as she’s concerned – but for the wind that carries a distinct hint of what’s to come.
She smooths the material across her thighs, then leans forward to gather the edges of her skirt and scoot it upwards as she speeks. “It was my fostern challenge, and I was to retrieve a fetish fiercely guarded by a multitude of over protective spirits, before the enemy could conquer them and take the valuable blade for themselves. In doing so, I was granted a Spirit Drum by the elder Godi, to whom the blade belonged. Rather than bind it as a mundane drum, he gave me these…”
She finishes lifting her skirt to the top of her thighs, baring the matching claw marks that mar otherwise flawless skin. On each thigh, four ragged scars, perfectly spaced, matching, and painful looking – something any Fenrir would be proud to bear. She runs her fingers across the Spirit Bound Scars, and then gives them a slap with a grin. “This is my Spirit Drum.”
[Eztli Montoya] “So, how did you get it from them? Did you have to ask, did the spirits send you on a quest, did you gain their favor, did you take it back?” how did she deal with those spirits?
Joss was young, that much was understood. All things aside, Eztli was intent and paying close attention. Whens he spoke, it was accented- indication that she wasn’t from the United States. Hell, her name was in Spanish, that seemed more than enough to give indication to her origins. The theurge looked at Joss, and for a moment it seemed odd to be literally looking down at Joss.
Eztli always remembered her elders being taller than her. That said, she wasn’t always so tall, either.
The scars looked vicious and painful, and Eztli looked over them. They were well-earned, and she was more than content to take them in. The theurge ran a hand through her short hair. “Es bonita, Joss.”
She has to try at that hard J sound, but she is getting the hang of it.
[Joss Lehrer] She runs her hands across her thighs with a familiar sense of pride. She is young, its true. She doesn’t look a day over 18, if that, and if asked would admit to having just barely turned that legal age before embarking on her trip to Chicago. That she had gained fostern at such a young age is testament to her somewhat unusual upbringing when compared to other Garou. She was loved, in ways many true borns never know.
“It was house of bargaining and debate, of offering bits of myself, and promising to return for a time afterwards. They were protective and violent – it took much out of me to simply get them to listen so that I could join them. I offered gifts – but most of all, I listened to their stories, their aches and pains and fears that the blade they protected would not be treated with the respect it deserved. I took their stories back to our Godi’s as I promised, so that their legacy would live on, and I bound them into a book that is carried with the blade to this day. Mostly, they wanted respect – and I took all day and night to assure them that they had it from the Fenrir, and it would continue. The blade is now a treasured possession of the Eldest Godi of the Sept where I was born.”
She chuckles softly, and smooths her skirts back down over her thighs again. “They find me, now and again, to assure themselves that I have not forgotten. I listen as they tell me of their adventures, their sadnesses and their joys, and then they return back home once again.”
[Joss Lehrer] (house? hours!)
[Eztli Montoya] She hung on stories. She listened and her attention didn’t waver. Eztli was focused and relatively determined to do so. there was a story in that, and it was one that was keeping the Uktena’s attention. Her focus was surprising, intriguing even. In a way that most couldn’t really boast having.
Joss Lehrer stands as a testament to something. That being loved and cared for gives a good groundwork, ushers one towards greatness. Proof of many a hypothesis this particular Uktena had.
“Where is the sept you were born in?”
[Joss Lehrer] The mirth and good humor sparkles in her eyes as she looks over at Eztli, and arches a brow slightly, the blue of her eyes near shining with the pride of where she comes from and how she is not what people have come to expect from there. People often find the answer surprising – those who have heard the stories of one Decker Rohl, and the sept that his father runs with an iron will, and strong fist.
“Storm Hammer, in Minnesota. ”
[Eztli Montoya] “Why you gotta be from Minnesota, es cold up there!”
She has an interesting way of saying Minnesota. Mee-neh-soh-ta.
“No ocean.”
[Joss Lehrer] She laughs in delight, and nods. “Yes it is. They tell me it will get cold here, as well. I doubt it will be quite as bad. We do not pick the place we are born, any more than we pick the moon we are born under, hm?”
She looks out over the lake before them, and pushes her dreads back over her shoulder. “No ocean here, either, though there is plenty of water with the lake and river… it’s very different from where I came from. Not bad – just different.”
She tips her head slightly. “And you? Where are you from?”
[Eztli Montoya] “Mazatlan. It’s in Mexico,” she tells Joss. It’s sounds more like es, the X in the word Mexico more like an H. “There’s coastline. And water, everywhere. An’ shells, y coral, y ruins… you go far enough you can see what the Aztecs left. An’ shrimp.”
She paused, then looked from the water to Joss.
“I wouldn’t feel right without water.Neither right nor wrong, better or worse… Mexico is… different. My home sept was small.”
[Eztli Montoya] (again! close your tag, you weren’t raised in a barn!)
[Joss Lehrer] She watches Eztli as she speaks, and the smile warms to a soft chuckle as the all important ‘an’shrimp’ is added.
“Mexico is warm.”
She grins and leans back on her elbows, kicks off her shoes and stretches her legs out toward the water, crossing her legs at the ankle, and not minding the ice cold water that creeps up toward her heels as if drawn to the warmth of the Godi.
“And what brings you so far North?”
[Eztli Montoya] “I’m a messenger, Joss. My pack had a message to bring to maelstrom,” she said, “when I got here, the road stop singing… it’s time to settle.”
And shrimp. It was the most important thing about Mazatlan- there was shrimp. And it was so very, very good. It defined her experiences, and reminded her of home. Something traditional.
“What brought you here?”
Conveniently avoiding the thought of what may have happened to her pack getting here.
[Joss Lehrer] She nods, slightly. “And will it sing again?” Curious, only, and she doesn’t necessarily expect an answer. She laughs softly as the conversation is deftly slipped back to her again, and she looks up to the sky, the moon hanging darkly above.
“The Eagles. They spent some time estranged from the sept here, and traveled back home for Moots. I had heard of them, of course, as my alpha’s father is Jarl there.” She says nothing of the tension between Silence and his father – or the differences between the Garou. “I was able to meet them, to learn of them through those visits. When the call came that they needed a Godi the first time, it was before my Challenge for rank. I did not feel I was ready to quest to become Eagle. The next time the call came, I was prepared.”
She grins up at the other girl. “It’s not to say that it was easy. I still had much to learn from the Eagles even as I ran with them, to see if I would be accepted by them, by Eagle himself. I had no backup plan – so I worked hard. A few months later I was accepted and bonded. I found a home here, on my own.”
[Eztli Montoya] “Always, which now poses the question whether or not home will be louder,” odd. Because she didn’t speak English as a first language, but she treated it with reverence. She knew her way around it. Accented though it may be, she spoke like an academic. like someone who liked to think.
“Es not your way to make it easy. You earned your rank, mija, and you earned your position in your pack, from what you’re saying. Eagle doesn’t just tale anyone, from what I’ve heard.”
She might know her pack, but Eztli knows her totem. She knows it from admiration and observation. She knows it because she’s a little less than half-flesh. The thought is abandoned, and she grinned a little at Joss.
“You got a lot of work t’do in a city, Joss.”
[Joss Lehrer] She nods, as if she understands the call of the road, of what directions it may take the young Theurge.
She is quite for a time, not because she does not agree, because she does -she has worked hard to get where she is, she has fought tooth and claw to get the respect she deserves, despite being the Godi who smiles, the atypical Fenrir. “Papa always said I had to do things the hard way. I find you learn more that way, retrain better – do better the second time around.”
She touches her shoulder, absently, where the mark of Eagle resides across her collarbone then pushes her hair back and laughs softly. “There is that – a lot o work within the city….”
[Eztli Montoya] “Mi papi- well… he said the same thing. Could not determine how he raised such a hard headed child, but wouldn’t have it any other way. Complacent people don’t do much, obviously.”
“What do you think of it?”
she pauses.
“The city.”
[Joss Lehrer] She smiles brightly. “I love it. There are… so much, so many things we didn’t see much of back home – did you know that electric elementals love to play tag?”
There’s that look of pure mischief again, one that’s so open and clear that you can almost see herself playing with the spirits in just such a way. “I always knew the wind loved to play – but there’s a certain.. added… snap.. to playing with electricity…”
Usually in the ass. “It can be a shocking experience to say the least.”
She shakes her head, a shoulder lifting into a shrug. “It’s different, gritty and dirty and beautiful in it’s on way. It’s challenging to deal with spirits I had not dealt with before, learning what makes them happy, getting to know them and binding them to service to aid the Garou here. Many of the newer spirits are simply so excited to be put into service it does not take much… but others are just as stodgy as an old earthbound boar… Many of them are young and flighty – like one that has developed a facination for a certain former Fianna’s red hair…” She sighs, deeply, but it’s with a fondness for the silly little electric elemental. There’s a story behind that one, for sure.
[Eztli Montoya] She looks at Joss for the longest time.
And then? She laughs. It’s almost a bark, but then it actually softens into something vaguely feminine. Eztli laughs like a girl, bright and joyous. Someone else who played with spirits, who was living, or believed that one should live.
“Joss, tha’s terrible. You are not allowed to use puns like that, rhya.”
She listens, though. Joss is talking about the spirits in this city, and Eztli pays attention. She doesn’t falter and she doesn’t lose her focus. She pays attention well- the Uktena is an intelligent creature, who seems to live to gain information. It makes her easy to talk to, because she genuinely wants to know.
“Young things are flighty sometimes… you never know what they’ll get attached to.”
[Joss Lehrer] She got the Uktena to laugh, and something like triumph sparkles in the depths of blue eyes as she laughs along. “It was awful, wasn’t it? I tried to resist – for a moment or two.”
Which is to say, not at all. She chuckles at the last and nods. “Exactly – my Alpha’s mate is the redhead in question. I’d bound him as a temporary alarm at the packhouse, and the fool thing fell in love – threw hisself off the little window ledge and began to follow her everywhere. She caught him, and drug him to where I was having dinner to tell me my ‘toy’ had malfunctioned! It was mortifying, and yet endearing. He refused to leave the little car when his term of service was up, so I let him have the run of my room – and occasional glimpses of the love of his life.”
Silly little elemental.
[Eztli Montoya] “Puns are a dangerous road, next thing you know? You’re writing limericks. No es bueno. No. Es. Bueno. Rhya.”
She laughed a little more, then sat herself down on the ground by the lake. She looked out over it and, for the time being, she was more than happy to just take it in. the city. the water. The change in scenery and the change in everything. It kept her attention for who-cared-how-long.
[Joss Lehrer] “There once was a man from Nantucket…” she starts, with an impish grin, and then shakes her head with a chuckle. Eztli relaxes, stretches out and takes in the ambiance of the Caern itself, and for a while, Joss remains the same. Truth be told, this is the one place she feels the ability to completely relax – it is why she meditates here, and not just to benefit form the closeness of Maelstrom.
A while later, she turns to Eztli once more. “Have you a place to stay here in Chicago?”
[Eztli Montoya] “Not in particular,” she told Joss. “I was staying with my cousin, but I don’t want to mooch off of generosity. Kin have it hard enough.”
A beat.
“plus his wife hates me.”
[Joss Lehrer] “Ah.” she nods, and chuckles. “Never a good thing. Have ya heard of the Brotherhood of Thieves?”
She points off into the direction of said place. “It’s a ways down that way, just past the edge of the bawn. Kin run, fur friendly, and sort of a dorm setting upstairs. Free lodging, food too, as long as folks need it. Most go in and out, some stay for longer durations, but there’s usually a bed open there.”
[Eztli Montoya] “That doesn’t sound too bad,” she said. She mused, and then she nodded.
[Joss Lehrer] She nods with a smile. “food’s good – it’s clean and safe. Not sure who’s staying there right now, I was there a week or so until I’d made my intentions known to the Eagles. Talk to Danny behind the bar, or Jenny in the kitchen, and they’ll get you set up. It gives you somewhere to stay until the road sings again, or you find somewhere better.”
[Eztli Montoya] She gives a solid nod, and then Eztli leans back and stares at the sky. She grins for a minute, and glanced at Joss for a second.
“I have a favor to ask,” she starts.
[Joss Lehrer] She sits up, and wraps her arms around her knees, her skirts and braids settling after a moment around her.
“Of course, ask away.”
[Eztli Montoya] “If someone thinks I’m a boy, could you try not to correct them?”
A beat.
“I find it amusing.”
[Joss Lehrer] A brow arches, slightly, and then a slow smile forms, and spreads into a soft bit of laughter. She has a certain love of pranks within her that this speaks too, and her answer comes easily.
“Of course. I can see how it could definitely have it’s amusing moments. I’ll do my best.”
[Eztli Montoya] She sighs, and seems almost forlorn for a second. She looks from the sky to her non-existent cleavage as though this is the bane of her existence. Eztli doesn’t even have to adjust her bra straps. Truth be told, she was flat chested enough that bras weren’t even necessary anymore.
“Hmmn, when I fill out this will be a harder prank to play.”
[Joss Lehrer] She grins over at Eztli. “It’s getting colder though – a bigger sweatshirt, some binding, and you could pull it off a bit longer, I’m sure. Chicago cold is an excellent excuse for bundling up in non-descript clothing.”
It’s clear – she loves a good prank.
[Eztli Montoya] “I don’t see myself … developing, any time soon, I have a few months,” she tells Joss. She looks at her and grins, “if the brotherhood has community bathrooms, this could be difficult.”
The theurge paused.
“I like a good challenge.”
[Joss Lehrer] She laughs and nods. “Community bathrooms – but individual shower and toilet stalls. However – if it’s ever to crowded? Gimme a call and I’ll find ya a place to clean up without prying eyes. I know some folks.”
[Eztli Montoya] “How long you think I can keep this up? Until the next moot?”
[Joss Lehrer] She grins and nods. “Easily! And you know, you could always have spirit help – some of them love a good prank. Not many of us play with them, and those that enjoy such a thing are always eager to help. They can whisper rumors, and even help with a shielding breeze, or a sudden shower of falling leaves – things like that.”
She arches a brow. “Not that I’ve ever done such a thing ever… cept that one time I bound a air elemental into my packmate’s favorite hat – so every time he said a certain word, it flew off his head for a day or so…” Positive glee dancing in those eyes now…
[Eztli Montoya] Joss was excited, and the look was one that seemed to overtake the tall, thin Uktena. She laughed, and she looked at Joss while she spoke of things like this. it was obvious- she was excited. She was pleased to talk about things that were done.
“They really don’t have people play with them enough,” she said, “I’ll see what they can do.”
[Joss Lehrer] She grins, contentedly, and nods. “good. And if you need any help – call me.”
She stretches, slowly, and looks up at the sky again, marking the position of the moon, and sighs. “Ah, it’s patrol time, again. An Omega’s work is never done. You want me to show you the way to the Brotherhood?”
[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] The caern was a place that Caleb had before often frequented, but of late the cajun had become more or less a recluse, never staying in the bawn or caern center longer than necessary to perform his rounds. Tonight however he’d needed to wander, to escape the confines of that which reminded him of what was lost. There was pain there, and heartbreak. Except that in normal folk, pain and heartbreat didn’t normally bring the dead out from the depths of the after-life to haunt the living. Usually.
Caleb strode along slowly, haggard in appearance these days. It was as if the man never slept, and if so fitfully. His clothes were no longer immaculate, but rather disheveled – boots scuffed and unpolished, shirts wrinkled and jeans dirty.
Passing Joss, the Keeper of the Land paused, a small smile coming to his lips. People. Yes. People were good, because they took your mind off things. “Good evening,” he said to the two.
[Eztli Montoya] She gets to her feet and straightens herself out. She’s in jeans- odd that she managed to find jeans that actually fit her legs. They were about to head on their way, but it was enough to make her stop. She saw Caleb. The male was… regal. A disheveled, haunted sort of regal, but regal none the less.
“Buenos noches,” she says. She’s either a mediumly-pitched alto or a very high tenor. That said, smiles came easily, and she regarded the male. Her hair was dark, her eyes were darker, and her shadow seemed a bit too solid. Garou were regarded, at times, as half-flesh. She was more spirit than flesh, it seemed. At times both insubstantial and solid.
“Joss? I think I’ll stay here awhile, I can find it later,” she tells her friend. “Keep safe.”
[Joss Lehrer] She nods, and touches Eztli’s arm briefly with her fingertips. “Alright. You know how to find me.”
Then, a nod and smile for Caleb. “Hello. Have a good evening – i’m late for patrols.”
And with that she turns, and moves quickly away, breaking into an easy jog as she heads toward Eagle territory, and beyond.
(been up for long ass time – brain melty. goodnight!)
[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] Caleb spoke not a whit of Spanish, but of course he’d grown up in the south, which meant you learned a phrase here or there about the language. A nod to Joss as she departed, he turned to regard Eztli. It took a moment to realize it was indeed a she. “New come to the caern?” the Silver Fang asked.
“I am Caleb Delacourt-Alden de Morres of House Gleaming Eye, Theurge of Falcon, member of the Unbroken Circle, Keeper of the Land.” The shorter version of his introduction. “Welcome to Chicago.”