Hector Ghosh
[dex + crafts: how shitty is his first attempt at making a bow]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 5, 8, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )
Hector Ghosh
The
rock where the Uktena Galliard has taken to parking himself during his
moments of resting and writing at the end of his patrols is trying to
leech the heat out of his ass. It cannot sap it out of the rubber of his
Timberlands so it goes for his backside. That's fine. Joke's on it. He
doesn't have much backside from which it can harvest joules of
warm-energy.
He keeps telling himself he'll get used to it. With a
cap and gloves on and his back to the wind is really isn't that bad.
Cold as a bastard but it won't kill him. If an oil-soul Bane couldn't
kill him then inclement weather isn't going to be the thing to do it.
As
it goes Hector is half-crouched half-sat on the big rock by the stream
and he's squinting at whatever today's arts and crafts project is
supposed to be. Wood shavings form a spotty half-moon around his left
side and a small quiverless quiver of half-a-dozen arrows, naked yet of
fletchings, sits on his left. He is in the process of wrestling rawhide
string into the notches of what is beginning to look like a sturdy bow.
If Lola wasn't aware that he had been drying rawhide string, well... Fog.
He's singing a song to the string as he couples it to the bow.
"get
in your notch motherfucker
get in your notch motherfuckerit's too cold
for your bullshit
and it's such a nice notch
get in your notch
motherfucker..."
Lola Hawkes
There's a good
chance that Lola got her cloak made fun of the first time she wore it
out, when they'd gone to meet the Black Fury Theurge and see Hector get
his first scar rubbed with ash and properly introduced to his Body Soul
and Name. She could give half a shit less, because the whole while she
was out there she didn't feel her body tremble with the chill of the
night air once. It was heavy enough that winds wouldn't blow it open,
and the high neck reached her hairline in the back and sat softly just
under her jaw in the front. She had to replace her backpack with a big
rectangular satchel that sat at her hip, kept in place with a strap that
went over one shoulder to cross diagonal over the chest and back, but
that was just fine too.
Yesterday she'd crunched her way into the
driveway long after the sun had set, returned home from an announced
visit to Cousin Anthony in the city. Today she woke up not much longer
afer the sun did, warmed up with coffee and breakfast, filled her
satchel with supplies and was on her way. Even when happy in her home
she needed to be out on her land just as badly, and since the snows were
not coating the land just yet she went by foot.
It's about
another hour before dusk will come sweeping over the land when Lola
decides to go see if she can find Hector at that rock that he so often
will spend time at. She's marching her way over the hillside, the hem
of both her cloak and the dense green skirt swishing at her ankles as
she went, when the song meets her ears across the otherwise quiet (save
for the wind whistling its way through the trees and rocks when a gust
picks up) land.
"If it's that cold," she says to introduce herself
to the setting, speaking as she crests the soft slope that the rock
perches near, "then you should probably find a better place to work,
don't you think?"
Hall
Tamsin meanwhile. Now
Tamsin. Tammy-sin. Don't call her Tammy, ever, Tamsin Hall. Tamsin was
at the heart of the caern -- or near enough. A theurge doing a
galliard's job as far as rites go (Tamsin is traditional, after all)
has put bees under her skin, has made her antsy, made her unbearable,
made her heart-sore over the things she doesn't know but should, so she
has been talking other garou into teaching her things and they've been
sending her out in miniature quests in order to help with the teaching
and also because they've got their own things to do. Tamsin has hardly
had a moment to miss civilization at all, at least until she and that
Skald got into an argument and, long story short, when Tamsin trudges
through the desolate beginning-to-winter landscape in search of Hector,
it's with a surprising amount of pleasure, since her Saturday and
Sunday've been so busy and full of brawling.
Hark, is that Hector - singing? And is that Lola?
Tamsin goes into sneak mode. There's nothing more satisfying than sneaking up on Hector and Lola.
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 4) ( fail )
Hall
Ah,
yes. Tamsin has never known herself to be stealthier than right now.
That bit of dry bracken she stepped in was remarkably silent. That
sneeze, she just knows that it wasn't that loud-- and this rock is the
perfect size to hide behind. Sure, to hide behind it, she has to crouch
and maybe from a certain perspective it's a lot smaller than her and
isn't really worth hiding behind, and there is the instrument case she
is carrying, but she's pretty sure this shadow is hiding it perfectly
ably. They will never see her coming.
Hector Ghosh
Before
he hears Lola speak he hears the slight rustling of cold-dead leaves
and grass beneath the soles of her shoes. Intent upon his work as he is
Hector is not oblivious to the world around him. If anything he has to
make a conscious decision when he sets himself out here on his own not
to activate the gift that gives him a wolf's acuity in his human skin.
Today
he made the conscious decision. He doesn't need sharp sight and scent
to woodwork. He can hear just fine. Something about months spent in an
urban jungle and the paranoia of expectant fatherhood and being
responsible for the lives of his packmates now that he has the mantle of
leadership upon him is causing the young man to have more awareness of
his surroundings than he did a few months ago.
He also has a
battle scar that he didn't have a few months ago because of his failure
to heed his surroundings in the midst of an angry hunt but let's not
mince words.
Hector turns towards Lola and smiles a beatific smile
at the sight of her. It persists even after she appears and criticizes
his choice in work landscape.
"Maybe I like being surrounded by
ancestor-spirits when I'm working," he says in a tone pitched to mock
hers. Stops winding the string around its new home to address her. In
the sun his eyes are still rock-dark but that idiotic smitten light
doesn't leave his face. "It's peaceful."
This he says before an
elephant comes stomping through the brambles and an explosive lung-noise
bounces through the trees. He lowers his project and straightens his
spines to look towards the glint of light off metal he just saw.
"Did
you hear that?" he asks Lola like he isn't looking right at his
packsister. "It sounds like someone just farted. Behind that rock. No,
babe, look." He points with the half-finished bow and drops his voice to
a stage whisper. "Don't get scared, but I definitely see a
fart-monster."
Lola Hawkes
Unless some strange
recessive gene came forward-- likely from Hector's background rather
than Lola's-- the baby that wouldn't arrive until some unannounced date
next summer was going to have eyes dark like pitch. This is what Hector
has, and Lola's similarly colored eyes skim over what is clearly a bow
that he's working on. He expressed that he liked working with the
ancestors around him, and one corner of her mouth pulled into a tiny
smirk and her eyebrows rose.
"Finding your tradition, huh?"
But
then there's the crunch-crunch of feet on leaves and a sneeze, and
Lola's attention is pulled away much like Hector's. He reacts easily,
but Lola's kneejerk reaction is caution, and the humor in her face was
seeped away quickly. She turned her head to look where the noise came
from, and frowned at the body curled half-hidden behind a rock.
Did you hear that? A fart monster.
Lola
looked at Hector, scowled like she was puzzled, then looked back toward
the rock. Recognition of what shapes and features she could find set
in, and her posture relaxed once more. Under the heavy flaps of her
cloak Lola's hands tucked into pockets cut into the folds of her skirt.
"So, do we defeat it?"
Hall
They begin to discuss
things. Hector and Lola. Fart Monster. Pft, leave it to Hector to be a
total idiot, Tamsin thinks, although with rather more cursing, and no
little glee. They have no idea she is there: of this, Tamsin is
absolutely, 100% certain, and she slowly shifts her weight from one boot
to the other, the instrument case riding hide on her shoulders,
cracking her hard in the back of the head. She swallows a blistering
curse, which nonetheless carries quite well. Then she begins to slowly,
cartoon-dramatically, stretch out a hand, and crab-walk/crawl toward the
next rock, a scatter of pebbles behind her.
Hector Ghosh
"Unless you have a candle and a match in your--"
It
would be better for his continued success at not giving himself a
hernia trying not to laugh if Tamsin had stayed behind her rock or stood
up or something other than what she actually does. Which is swear and
begin to do some sort of sea creature shuffle-walk around the back of
the rock.
He tries so hard not to laugh. A stitch knits itself
between his brows as he grits his teeth but his eyes crinkle up like
they do when he's actually laughing. Eventually he loses muscle tone in
his legs and sets down the bow so he slink forward.
"Shh," he says to Lola. Still stage-whispering. "I think I know another way to defeat it. Stay here."
Because
fart-monsters are attracted to unattended purebred kinswoman
apparently. Using her as bait. Classic. Hector drops into a crouch of
his own and starts to circle around the rocks in a direction trailing
his packsister the fartmonster.
[dex + stealth: doo doo doo you can't see me i am one with the fucking forest]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (3, 7, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 4 )
Lola Hawkes
When
someone is clearly convinced that they haven't been spotted, and in
that shadow of self-delusion tries to go from one form of cover to the
other, it's typically a pitiful thing to behold-- particularly for a
third party. A third party would watch as that someone crawls their way
from point A to point B, unaware of those that had spotted them
standing and openly watching.
Hector had crouched down, but Lola stayed standing and watched Tamsin with an expression of 'oh my god what is she doing'
on her face, as plain as the glow of the setting sun behind the cloud
cover over their heads. Tamsin had bashed her head into the case that
she kept on her back, then shifted about and started to crawl sideways,
knees bent, pelvis dropped, like some kind of a crab.
Hector
shushed her and said that she should stay there, and starts to ghost his
way across the ground. If she didn't know where he was and watch him
get there, Lola would have missed him entirely for how little sound he
makes and how flat he keeps himself to the ground. She lifts her
eyebrows, purses her lips, and nods her head appreciatively. Well done, Ghosh.
But,
Lola had other plans. He wanted her to stay put, but telling Lola to
stay still anywhere if it wasn't specifically to guard or beat something
didn't tend to go very well. Instead, Lola tossed her head so her hair
was thrown off her shoulders and down her back instead, and carried
herself with long-legged steps across the stiff bristle-grass and dirt
to where Tamsin was crawling sideways.
Certainly Tamsin will see
her coming, but Lola doesn't pause to address her or stop to explain how
plainly obvious she's being. Instead, the sturdy Kinswoman stooped
down and hooked one arm under Tamsin's right thigh, clamped the other
about the center of her torso, and lifted her off the ground to carry
her back to the rock. Once she's got the smaller Fianna woman held up
against her chest and stomach and is walking back to The Rock Where
Galliards Gather she speaks.
"Hector was going to have himself a crab bake. You'll thank me."
Hall
Tamsin
has no idea where Hector went. He was there one moment and the next he
wasn't. He's probably gone to pee behind a rock or something, like some
kind of boy. Maybe he's gone to make sure everything's still in place.
Hee, Hee. Hector will never, no matter how many times he dies and
returns from the dead, live that one down. Never. So one moment Tamsin
is crawling, climbing, sidewinding, sideways, and the next she casts a
quick glimpse at the rock and Hector has disappeared, and then a shadow
falls across her, and she looks up, and up, and it's Lola. Tamsin's
expression is one of shock, and she opens her mouth to say something,
when --
When Lola --
"Hwahh?!"
The Fianna
says something like that. The instrument case tha-thumps against her
side again, then hits the ground, strand hanging from Tamsin's shoulder
and torso, while Lola carries her like so much luggage up toward the
rock. Then when Lola adjusts her grip and Tamsin squeaks, another
surprised sound, it trails along behind just occasionally hitting a
stone, and she manages to say, "Wha, Lola, you shouldn't be carrying,
gagh, um, Looola, wait, he's baking crabs?"
She sounds truly
perplexed. Tamsin doesn't struggle for fear of hurting Lola, but once
they're closer to the rock she squirms a little.
Hector Ghosh
Only
the grass and the branches rustle as he moves but that could just as
easily be the wind. They do not follow Air. They follow Fog. And Hector
is such an arrogant little shit that he doesn't even call on Fog as he
slinks through the shadows of the rocks in the mid-afternoon sun and
comes up around behind Tamsin.
Before he can pounce on her like a
jungle cat Lola walks right up to her and scoops her up. He slips back
out of sight and keeps his back against the rock until he hears the
instrument case thump against the rock. A hyperactive overprotective
father would have come leaping out from his hiding place to tell her not
to pick up a grown-ass wolf-woman but Hector has been reading a lot of
books lately.
He doesn't leap out from behind the rock. A
fingerless glove and the hand inside and part of an arm come out but low
to the ground and only enough to snag the handle of the case and drag
it slow-slow back behind the rock.
Heh heh heh.
Lola Hawkes
Over
the time that Celduin has been coming back to Colorado to visit the
Hawkes family (or what remained of it) when Maria insisted they pay a
visit to her baby sister and make sure she hasn't been locked away yet,
Tamsin and Hector have both come to know Lola as a strong thing. Of
course she was-- she trained to be, she came from a long line of strong
Garou anyways. They'd seen her throw heavy logs of wood around when
chopping for the house, or carry bodies the size of grown men over her
shoulders when it was time to burn the fallen foes. That she was able
to lift Tamsin from the ground was no surprise.
The big black
instrument case thumped onto the ground, and Lola glanced distractedly
back at it, then scoffed lightly at Tamsin's protests (though the Fianna
did nothing to struggle or push away from the baggy white sweater that
she wore underneath the cloak, whose long hem fell to her hips to make
up for the space that the low-slung skirt didn't cover on her mid
section).
"You don't weigh that much," Lola expressed, and plunked
Tamsin down beside the Rock, which had somehow come to be the
equivilent of Home Base in Lola's mind when this current game was being
considered. She didn't dump Tamsin on her rear, but released her leg
and let the Fianna find her feet before letting go of her weigh
altogether.
"Yeah-- you. You looked like a crustacean, waddling sideways like that. Did you think that would help,
somehow?" By now Lola's lost Hector too, and turns about with her
eyebrows furrowed in concentration while she skimmed the landscape
hunting for him. Apparently she's changed teams now, the turncoat, by
revealing his plans to Tamsin and coming to her aid.
"Well,
shit." The Kinfolk puffed some and her arms withdrew back into her
heavy cloak, which fell closed over her torso once more. "Now I have no
idea what he's gonna do."
Hall
The case is still
attached to Tamsin, so Hector's slow, creeping, reach-out drag-drag heh
heh heh would probably get a notice, or it would if Lola weren't so
damned stolid in her carry. As it is, Tamsin, finally freed, huffs as
huffily as you can please, fixing her hair and adjusting the strap and
studying the instrument case's bottom for scratches and generally
behaving more like a cat who has been pet without its permission than a
wolf, although she finally just sits cross-legged in the dirt rather
than getting up, and says with all due sincerity, "Well, I think I heard
him and you say something about farting, and I don't know if he
confessed to you, but he did tell me he was having some
problems lately in the ol' backdoor department. Like, it just wasn't
flowing as easily as it could, so fucking idiot like, he was asking
about 'hole openers' you could make with thorns and what would happen if
you ate this herb with that herb..."
Tamsin doesn't know where
Hector is, but that doesn't mean she doesn't speak clear and carrying,
just in case he's around. Because surely this would flush him out.
Pun, intended.
"...what
does it mean if you having fucking gas but can't actually take a shit
anyway? By the way how are you Lola?" Her voice gets less clear and
carrying. "I got the coolest present for Heckle!"
[Tamsin lies! Like usual! About all that 'advice' stuff.]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 9, 10) ( success x 3 ) Re-rolls: 1
Hall
Then: "Wait, you saw me?"
[And a purebreed lying die for Hector's sake.]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (3) ( fail )
Hector Ghosh
[dex + ath: doing stuff what you can't see because stealthy]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 6, 6, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 5 ) Re-rolls: 1
Hector Ghosh
The
area around the cluster of Rocks Where The Galliards Gather is mostly
flat. In the warmer months the flatland is green. The Rocky Mountains
hold their post in the west but the rocks down here loom. In places the
rocks are taller than war-formed wolves. Cliffs and sheer walls make up
the heart of the Caern.
Trees surround them too. The women cannot
see Hector as he slinks back from the rock where Lola snatched up Tamsin
and ducks behind one of the trees. Or how he stays within the copse to
loop around behind them again. How he climbs up one of them like a
goddamn spider monkey and doesn't even scuff the bark of the tree with
his boot heels as he makes his way to the nearest low-hung branch.
He crouches in the branch long enough for the women to develop a false sense of security.
Whereupon he yells "BANZAI!!" and jumps down out of the tree onto Tamsin.
[lol soak roll]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (10, 10) ( success x 2 )
Hector Ghosh
[That should have been 3 dice but it was only 2B he had to soak so whatever Show-Off.]
Lola Hawkes
Lola
just stares at the Fianna flatly while she goes on about how Hector was
complaining about a mix of constipation and gas pressure both. It's
fairly clear that the Kinfolk has no interest in what Hector's bowels
are doing (provided they aren't doing it in or on her bed).
She chooses to skip that topic entirely and instead asks: "Heckle? Who's Heckle?"
And: "Well yeah we saw you. You fuckin' sneezed, man."
Then: BANZAI!
Hector
leaped down out of the tree, throwing himself toward Tamsin. Lola
could be wise and just step back out of the fray, but where's the fun in
that? She instead tosses her arms out, intent on redirecting Hector's
trajectory from Tamsin to the earth.
Lola Hawkes
[Alley-Oop!: Dex 3 + Athletics 3]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (4, 5, 5, 8, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Hector Ghosh
[dex + ath: don't biff it when you hit the ground that would be embarrassing]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 5, 5, 7, 10) ( success x 2 )
Hall
"Heckle," Tamsin says. "Y'know. He of the IBS.
Heckle 'coz he talks a lot." Tamsin looks meditative, places a finger
on her chin, tilting her head to the side. One can practically see her
ears droop. "Damn. I thought it was a quiet sneeaaahTHETAINTCHAFINGFUCK,"
at the same time BANZAIIIII and here comes Hector, and Tamsin, sitting,
is at a distinct disadvantage, so she side-rolls and then Lola! Lola!
Lola preserves her. "HECTOR. OH EM GEE. TOOK. You frickin' TOOK! What if
the orcs heard you huh? Thanks, Lola," a grin, though her attention is
now narrowed on Mr. Ghosh. "What sort've Ent d'you think that tree would
be anyway? Wouldn't it be cool if we had an Ent forest around the
caern?"
Hector Ghosh
Were not for Lola's attention
and athletic prowess Hector would have landed right on Tamsin's back
and they both would have wound up facedown in the grass.
The
amount of grab-ass the members of Celduin have historically engaged in
used to be a lot higher. Glen and Maria were adept at the art of
physical comedy and were not above putting Hector into a headlock to
calm him down when he got too wound up. As he's wont to do. He talks a
lot and he doesn't tend to sit still. Hector and He Who Shall Not Be
Named were the worst offenders. Their wrestling matches used to cause
property destruction.
Now Hector only has Thomas to wrestle around
with and Thomas doesn't even put up much of a fight. Jack will put up a
fight but Jack hasn't been around much the last several months. It
saddens their alpha but what are you gonna do. If Jack wants to ride his
bike down the highway by himself that's his right, man.
Lola gets
him around the ribs and wings him away from Tamsin with a "WHOA!!" from
him and a wheeling righting of his equilibrium as he acclimates to
solid ground and not wrestling with his sister. He still laughs. It was
fun. As he settles Tamsin starts to rail against him and he laughs even
harder. Comes to stand behind Lola and puts his arms around her
shoulders and rests his chin on her shoulder like he's just oh so
innocent.
"Ents would get so much shit done if they lived around the Caern," he says. "They'd have won the War already."
Lola Hawkes
The
strong and athletic thing that she is, Lola has no trouble preventing
Hector from landing directly across the cross-legged Tamsin. Lola had
glanced up a split second earlier than Tamsin did, and by the time the
Fianna was shouting her mangled-up curse into the air Lola was spreading
her feet, digging her heels, and putting her arms out, left arm higher
than the right. She catches Hector by the ribs and belly and twists her
shoulders and waist and manages to smoothly switch his momentum from
down to diagonal, sending him sprawling into the dirt.
Tamsin's
shouting, Hector's laughing, and Lola just looks proud and smug and not a
bit surprised that she was able to accomplish what she was trying at.
Tamsin
gives her a thanks, and Lola just smirks that smug smirk of hers and
nods her head: "Well, you'd be miserable if he broke your neck landing
on it."
Hector came up behind her next, wrapped his arms about her
shoulders which had settled back under the cloak she wore and then laid
his chin to rest atop one of them, so his ear was beside hers, cheek
near to hers as well. Around any number of other Garou or Kinfolk or
even some humans, Lola would be uncomfortable and immediately shrug him
off. Around Celduin, though, the wolves that she would say were close
enough to family to count, she was relaxed and unworried of protecting
what she had from prying eyes. These eyes already knew, anyways. So
she bumped her skull to Hector's briefly, affectionate in that strangely
gruff way that she had sometimes, and dipped her hands back into the
pockets of her skirt (though no one could see this, really).
Hall
Tamsin
smiles quietly at Lola, because she would be rather miserable if he
broke her neck; there are no rage backs from that kind of death, death
that isn't battle-hot, plain accidents. The breed form is surprisingly
vulnerable, isn't it? And she rolls her eyes at Hector, because she
almost always rolls her eyes at Hector, but also because the Ents
winning any war is preposterous, however frightening and epic and
super-cool they are, and Tamsin tells Hector so with this: "You are such
a hippy sometimes. What do y'all wanna do tonight?" Her cheeks are
flushed but she doesn't seem all that cold; warm-blooded, Wisconsin-bred
girl. "Wanna go up to the mountains and play in the snow? Ooh!! We
could make a fucking sled! And practice badass moves on it.
Because I figure now that it's going to get super cold and the snow's
gonna come, there is an opportunity for us to do something epic by
riding in on a sled."
Hector Ghosh
He is such a hippy sometimes.
Though
Hector is not much taller than Lola the difference is more marked when
he is wearing shoes. He might grow another inch or two before his early
twenties are done with him but he has already shot up six inches since
his First Change four years ago. He's happy with average.
Tamsin
gets a big toothy idiot grin and then he lets her keep going. Frowns at
the idea of going up into the mountains. He played in the snow once. It
was awful.
When the wind picks up Hector stands closer to Lola
like she's the one who needs the buffering from the wind. It hits his
back but he doesn't shiver. He just locks his arms around her tighter
and laughs at Tamsin's suggestion.
"What are we gonna do, sled
into battle against Beloved Horror? In Death Machine form? We
could get a jump on them when they were laughing their asses off."
Lola Hawkes
At
the mention of hiking up further into the mountains and practicing
sledding, Lola shifted her gaze up through the dimming fall of dusk
toward the snow-capped mountains that hugged the landscape to the west.
She was gauging distance, the time it would take to reach the point
where the snow sits on foot, and what paths they would need to take in
order to get there. After all, the cliff faces got sheer in places,
painfully rocky and jagged and impossible to scale without equipment or
the claws of a Garou's strong hands and feet.
A gust of wind
tosses at Lola's hair, but she does nothing to keep it out of her face.
It would fall still on its own when the wind stopped its game. All the
same, Hector brings his chest up nearer to her back and locks his arms
more securely in place, behaving as though he should be sheltering her
from the wind on account of her being colder, or less braced for the
fall of the sun and the subsequent (and already dropping) fall of
temperature. There's a reason she wore the cloak, though, it was dense
enough that wind couldn't cut through it or throw it open on her, and
warm enough that she could wear sweaters and layered shirts underneath
and be just fine.
Still, she shifted her weight on her feet and
settled a little more comfortably where she stood, venturing to let her
shoulders rest back against Hector more soundly.
"There are old sleds in the shed back home. Wood with metal runners. We wouldn't make it tonight, though."
[[ Scene fades and trails off due to poor connectivity ]]
No comments:
Post a Comment