11/3/2004

05:56 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Converted Warehouse - Shadow's End(#3589RAJh)

Track lighting along the 30 foot skylighted ceiling in this spacious complex accents the smaller sconces along the walls every 10 feet or so, keeping the entire area adequately lit, even while allowing shadows to play in odd areas during the night. Over all, the entire effect is dark and post-modern in places, warm and inviting in others. On one side of the lower floor, a spiral staircase leads up to a mezzanine that stretches along one entire side of the place. Two suites with separate baths can be found there, nearly a perfect match to the two downstairs. One of the downstairs suites is larger than the rest, though all of them seem excellently appointed. The end of the apartment nearest the entrance contains a large rec room with a comfortable-looking sofa, several leather recliners and a high-end entertainment system. The other end of the apartment contains an impressive workout room, complete with free weights, and other assorted fitness equipment. The center of the lower floor contains an open kitchen area. A sprawling, dark-grey counter surrounds a set of expensive-looking burnished appliances. Charcoal grey carpeting covers the floor and huge, vertical blinds hang near the workout area, covering windows that stretch halfway to the ceiling and overlook the river.
Contents:
Jarred
Obvious exits:
Elevator

Not a word has been spoken by the philodox since his return. No words, but plenty of simmering anger and no doubt embarrassment from what has happened to him. But, nevertheless, he has lived through his Rite of Passage. The halfmoon thus, remains lying in a corner by the exercise equipment, healing his injuries in his hispo form.

The former cub's elder walks up quietly, arms clasped behind him as is his way when he is pensive. His dark eyes regard the cub. "Things... didn't turn out the way you had planned, perhaps?"

Edgewalker shifts his eyes up only. An obviously disatisfied rumble thrums from the halfmoon in response. His fur remains still somewhat darker in some patches from the blood that had managed to ooze from his wounds.

For a moment there seems to be genuine empathy in the Galliard's eyes, though this might just be an illusion. He's quite skilled at those, some say. "I understand. Vampires are nothing if not fond of controlling others. Particularly the Brujah. They are not unlike the Get among our own kind. They do relish a good fight and strive at all times to buck the expected norm. Ironically, this only makes them more predictable.

Edgewalker rumbles again, this time with a testy growl that would hint at that while he is injured, he is still angry enough to be able to kill something. The halfmoon lifts his head from his dinner plate sized paws. ~I do not care about that,~ he rumbles with a sweep back of his ears. ~Did we pass or not?~

Jarred lifts a brow. "Did you succeed in forging an alliance with Mr. Webber and his brood?"

Edgewalker lays his head back down. ~Yes,~ he replies, tail thumping once with an annoyed thought back to the vampire. It's obvious though that he would sooner kill the vampire at the sight of him than work with him. ~Too many mistakes were made, though,~ he growls, shifting his weight off of his bandaged chest. After another period of heavy breathing, he adds, ~But I paid for them.~

Jarred says "You use the passive voice.... 'mistakes were made' ... do you feel both of you made errors in judgement?"

Edgewalker snorts once, pushing himself up to his hind. ~No-Fear proved himself. I... I was stupid.~ The halfmoon's hackles prick upwards, only to lay back flat from sheer exhaustion.

Jarred smiles. "What makes you think he was smart and you were stupid?"

Edgewalker swings his head up to look at his elder, lips pulling back. ~Isn't it obvious?! He is the one who talked the bloodsucker into the agreement. What did I do? I got my maleness stripped forever!~ A whine of rage escapes from the strangling throat of the angry halfmoon as he flops back down to his belly heavily, turning to face the wall once more.

Jarred laughs. "Your maleness was well and truly gone, my dear cub, before this. What does the actual flesh matter? I correctly predicted that Andy would only be convinced of the worth of our offer after seeing one of us in battle. You provided him with that. Despite his reaction, he cannot have been unimpressed. Has it occurred to you that only by the two of you talking about your strength and then demonstrating it graphically, could this arrangement have ever been formed? My miscalculation, of course, was that I didn't think Andy would pick you to demonstrate."

It's either the rage in the air or his growling stomach that brings Lucas out from his room with the clatter of his door from upstairs. He casually looms down from the top of the stairs with his eyebrows brought together, hands slowly shoving themselves into his pants pockets.

It is the elder's first comment that makes the hispo whirl his head back around with fangs bared and ears flattened, only to have his rage fizzle back down to a self-pitying simmer as he realizes how futile such an action is. The halfmoon snorts and turns back to the wall.

Jarred's smile vanishes for a moment. "Stop sulking, Shadow Lord. You are Cliath. Only cubs whine and look at the wall. Heal your wounds and take your rightful place in your tribe. Yes, the test was messy. Yes you could have performed more efficiently. But in the end, the results bore you upward. And all it cost you was a little pride and a penis."

Lucas just lets the two talk without any verbal interruption from him as he meanders down the stairs and aiming, perhaps predicably, for the kitchen.

Edgewalker snarls at that, surging up to his paws and standing there shaking. His head kept low but his lips peeled back from his fangs he snaps once at the air. ~Yes All for GAIA!~ he snaps, the name of the land spat out from his fangs like a curse. ~All for this putrid ball of gas, dirt and taint!~ He snorts again and starts to move away from the wall, going pointedly around his elder to head towards the elevator.

Jarred's voice becomes commanding. "Stay where you are, Kenneth. I'm not finished with you two yet. I haven't put you through all of this only to have you vanish into the city again. I tire of sending Lucas to find you every evening."

Lucas leans against the counter after retrieving a lump of cheese for himself to chew on and says to the Philodox. "You ain't exactly in any shape to go strolling around town either. Unless you planning on doing on four legs, then I'll bring you back here in pieces."

Edgewalker stops in front of the elevator, turning his head to glance behind him at the elder. The halfmoon's eyes flash, as if blaming Jarred for all this in the first place, only to shift towards the ahroun with a bitter glint.

Jarred smiles. "Kenneth, please don't leave. You're Cliath now. I'll stop poking fun. Both of you won the evening and I'm very proud. I have something for each of you." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out two black velvet pouches.

Lucas gives Kenneth a slow frown and pops the last bit of the cheese cube in his mouth before turning his attentions towards Jarred, interest pushing bag the faint nag of annoyance at the halfmoon's glower.

Poking fun. Exactly what the halfmoon had known would happen, and this he acknowledges with a vicious growl. ~I don't want it. If I'm Cliath then I don't have to stay here anymore. Keep your bribes.~ He turns back to the elevator, gazing at it with daggers in his eyes.

A low rumble escapes the Galliard's quite human throat at that. "I did not ask if or whether, Edgewalker. I am your elder and by Grandfathers beard you will not spit my authority back in my face again. Now get the fuck back here and act like you're actually beyond puberty. If I catch one whiff of self-pity or whining in your demeanor again, you'll dearly regret it. These are not bribes. They are marks. And if you care to remain in St. Claire and be a Shadow Lord, you will put it on."

"Marks?" Lucas asks with a keener interest as he eyes the pouches. Well, he certainly wants to keep his tribe now that he's finally, and officially, apart of one.

Jarred tosses one of the pouches to Lucas.

Edgewalker for a long time doesn't move from his spot, considering his situation. A minute passes before he lowers his head huffs out a sigh. The hispo turns around from the elevator and returns to a section of the loft a bit closer to the other Lords. Standing there, ears folded back submissively, the halfmoon waits in silence.

Lucas catches the black velvet vessel and goes about opening it and emptying the content into his hand. He rolls the gold ring between his fingers and looks it over then slips it on, studying it up close.

Jarred tosses the other pouch to Edgewalker. "You'll probably wanto wait before slipping back into a form that can wear that. You're welcome." He turns to Lucas. "Tell me your impressions of Andy."

Edgewalker catches the pouch in his jaws, taking care not to end up eating it as his luck would have it. The halfmoon proceeds back towards his chosen 'spot' in the corner by the exercise equipment, settling back down to his stomach with a grunt. The pouch is spat out and covered with a huge paw.

"Like I expected him to be." Lucas says as he stuffs the empty pouch in his pocket. "And like you said he would be. If he didn't want to listen, he wouldn't have agreed to meeting us. It was just a manner of convincing him to agree to them."

Edgewalker only snorts at the thought of the vampire again, or more at the thought of last night's events, but says nothing.

Edgewalker remains where he is for the longest time as the conversation goes from Andy, and finally when the elder goes off to do other things, does he dare to look at the bag beneath his paw once more. The philodox stares down his muzzle at the pouch, silent and pondering.

Lucas remains leaning against the counter, having gone back to observing the ring on his finger. Besides probably being the most expensive thing he's ever had, the meaning of it is what's valuable. He has a tribe. Slowly, he turns his eyes towards the wolf and says, "We'll have to get in touch with Dillen sometime."

Edgewalker breaks his gaze from the pouch, looking up to the ahroun. ~Fine,~ he grunts once, his sudden lack of enthusiasm at meeting anyone showing itself.

"Should probably be able to catch him before or after the moot, if he's there." Lucas says and returns to rummage through the fridge again.

~After,~ Edgewalker rumbles in low reply, again with a severe lack of eagerness to meet the Get. Going back to the velvet pouch containing the ring, he pokes it with a claw. ~I don't want to go to the moot.~

"Fine, sulk, but I'm going." Lucas says as he shuts the door a touch too hard, coming out empty handed. "But you know, you helped bring this upon yourself. Maybe if you weren't out skulking around you might have been here more and actually learning something."

Edgewalker snaps his teeth together, snarling at the ahroun wordlessly. ~What I learned or didn't learn, didn't do shit. I knew we would have to fight. Should have killed the bloodsucker. Another one would have come to take his place anyway.~

Lucas fixes his eyes on the philodox and curls his lip. "And we would have both been dead. The agreement was made, if you'd have attacked him, he could have called on me to uphold our end of the deal."

~Then maybe I should have,~ Edgewalker sneers back before thudding his paw heavily on the pouch. ~Being dead is better than being dickless.~

Lucas snorts at the halfmoon, "Would you rather me yank off the rest of your external appendages? Then you can whine about that too until you bleed to death."

Edgewalker narrows his gaze, but doesn't reply. Rather, he picks up the pouch again into his jaws and gets up, hobbling up the stairs with the velvet bag in tow. The halfmoon disappears into his room for a long while, only to later reappear, shifted back to his birthform and dressed cleanly. The gold ring has been put on, glinting in the light as he limps back down the stairs.

Lucas has, by that point, taken up residence on the couch and is staring out the windows that face the river. Kenneth is given a passing glance as he comes back down the stairs, the ahroun's arms crossing across his chest.

This is routine once more. Kenneth is slow coming down the stairs, but he forces himself to do so with as much grace as he can muster in his state - to say, not much. The philodox does eventually make his way down, pausing at the end to push down the pain he's in. "Fine," he hisses lowly, sounding like he's talking to himself more than to the ahroun. Limping from the base of the stairs, he gets to the couch and gingerly seats himself beside the ahroun.

Lucas shifts his eyes away from Kenneth and straight forward, but he talks to him nevertheless. "It sucks what happened, we barely hauled out asses out of there and I know that, but slumped in a corner isn't going to get you anywhere and just wastes the effort you took to get back here."

Kenneth doesn't meet the ahroun's eyes either, staring ahead as much as the fullmoon. "I know that," he replies, tone bitter, but nonconfrontational. "But I'm no better than a metis now." This is said hoarsely, as the philodox fights himself for control.

"Really?" Lucas says. "Hm, funny. Besides your habit of brooding, I don't find any reason to believe you're mad, deranged, or otherwise physically or mentally deformed from birth. Not telling me something?"

Kenneth's hand balls into a fist, which he clenches until his knuckles are white. "Think about it. What sets human and wolf born apart from metis? Their ability to pop out more Garou, that's what." The philodox swallows hard, the thoughts of his mind slowly leaking out. "If metis were able to get more Garou, they wouldn't receive half the bad rap they get. The first law of the Litany wouldn't exist. That's why it's there." A growl threatens to escape him, but he holds it down. "But... don't suffer your sickness on others right?" he asks rhetorically.

"The only thing you're suffering us, is your whining." Lucas says on what borders as an impatient grumble. "You have both legs, both hands, I don't have to feed you through a tube or dress you because you can't. You can take of yourself, thus, you're not shoving your problems off on us. Besides, you're fifteen... fuck, I'm still fourteen. I don't know about you, but kids aren't on my to-do list anytime soon and there's a good chance I'll be dead before I get that far. Kids ain't everything. You can have all you want, but if you can't do shit to prove yourself, then you haven't done anything." And, seemingly done with his lecture, Lucas gets up from the couch.

Kenneth glances up from his forward stare, head turning to look up at the ahroun. A long, hard stare is aimed at Lucas. Then, he goes back to watching the night through the windows. The clenched fist relaxes though the halfmoon's brow remains furrowed - perhaps still feeling the pain in his body. "Maybe you're right," he concedes quietly.

Lucas starts to make his way for the stairs but pauses halfway, glancing over his shoulder. "And if you end up feeling that paternal one of these days, I'll buy you a kitten. A really fluffy one." And not waiting for a rebuke, the ahroun goes back into his room.

Kenneth throws an invisible dagger at the ahroun's back before turning back to the landscape beyond the window.