1/30/2005

05:09 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Bawn: Southern Forest(#3017RAJ)
Evergreen trees spread their overhead branches wide across the forest floor. Each tree limb interlinks with its neighbor, forming a thick overhead canopy of pine needles that leaves the forest floor dim even at noon. An apparent tenseness seems to permeate the air here, and there is a somewhat less than subtle feeling that perhaps something is watching. The behavior of the wildlife in the area betrays a certain wariness that suggests the presence of predators nearby.
The southern edge of the bawn is marked here by the railroad tracks which run from St. Claire and Kent's Crossing to the west, towards the mountains to the east.
Obvious exits:
Ash Grove Railroad South Into the Caern Sept Compound Half Moon Pool Western Bawn Central Bawn Eastern Bawn
Set.

Wandering. Dillen has been doing a lot of that lately. He comes through the bawn, prowling, nose to the ground in Lupus form. A scent hits his nose and his ear prick up, looking down along the ground level. Nose back down and sniffing where the scene goes, he then bolts into the bawn, chasing the scent.

That scent maybe is Kenneth, tramping through the woods with no effort to even cover up his utter lack of stealth. High collar on his jacket turned up, it seems like he too is aimlessly wandering, but at a constant direction keeping the sun to his right. The philodox doesn't notice anything around him, save for the roots that seek out his feet to try and trip him.

Bloods-Bane keeps sniffing and moves around, stepping lightly to come around behind Kenneth and stalk him for a little bit. He tries his best to stay back enough and keep from his pack mate to keep Kenneth from knowing he is there.

Even the least gracious of wolves could stalk the Shadow Lord. His foot lifts over a root that sticks out, and he ducks a low-hanging branch, but not enough. The pine needles rake through his hair, a few dry ones lodging into it. Even then, he doesn't stop. The small rustlings of the forest are lost on him, as he blazes his own path through the wood.

Bloods-Bane works his way ahead of Kenneth, moving behind a tree and shifting as he does so. Giving himself the ability to pop out from the side just as Kenneth cross in front of it. "Hey Kenneth." He says, nice enough. And he waits for the surly response. "Need to talk to you..." And that bit has the weight of the world on it.

Kenneth halts on a mark, just as the Get slips out in front of him. The philodox raises his eyes, meeting his packmate's. "Yeah?" The question is not exactly surly, not on its way to challenging, but uninviting nevertheless.

"I need to talk to you about Lucas. Important." Dillen takes in a big sigh. "Jarred and I talked last night, I'm back at Shadow's end... But I have a week to get a handle on Lucas before he goes to the elders of the sept." The words carry grave circumstances if he does. "We gotta do something Kenneth. I need your help. You know him better than anyone. If we don't get him... He will be killed."

Kenneth sniffs once, hands remaining in his pockets. He scowls a little with the mention that the Get is back in the End, but on the matter of Lucas he tilts his chin up slightly. "And what do you want me to do?

Dillen rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Fuck it. Just fuck it. If you don't want to be any part of this then that is fine. Just fine. I would have thought that you just might have wanted to help me find a way to help him. Sorry. I thought you'd give a shit." Dillen turns and shoves his hands into his pockets to leave.

"Don't just roll up on me and leave in a huff," Kenneth growls out. His tone is, in a word, controlled. "If you think I don't give a shit about Lucas then you're dead wrong." That much said, he gazes coldly at the galliard and almost waits for him to leave anyway.

Dillen stops in his tracks and turns to look back at Kenneth, "Well. He does care about someone." Dillen gazes at him, any anger gone from his voice. "So you put what you know about Lucas into your head and help the pack." Dillen shakes his head. "I don't want to lose Lucas... So. Ideas?"

Kenneth looks away the galliard, deep into the twilight forest. "The only way we're going to be able to help him, is if he decides he wants to help himself." The halfmoon slips his left hand out, looking at it. "There's no reason for him /not/ to give in to the beast. I know how it feels." He clenches his hand into a fist. "It's just so easy to let it go." He looks back to the galliard. "And out here... there's nothing for him. Jarred doesn't get it. Cutter doesn't get it. None of this sept gets it... that all we've been wired to do is hunt and kill. Lucas is just a lot better at it than the rest of us."

Dillen nods as he talks, sighing deeply. He shoves his hands down and into his pockets. "So you think there is nothing we can do for him? Nothing? And nothing for you?" He rubs a hand through his hair, rough, like trying to wake up. "What do you think we can do? I mean, we have to get to him somehow... Or we are gonna lose him."

"There are ways," Kenneth replies evenly, placing a hand on the tree beside him, "to retrain guard dogs. But if I understand anything at all..." He looks back to the Get. "You reward good behavior, and you punish bad behavior. But before you can even start training... you gotta give the dog a reason to even look at you." He slips his hand back into his jacket. "What I mean is - find something that will get Lucas' mind into thinking that frenzy isn't the best thing since a human T-bone, and he'll be on his way to control."

Dillen rubs a hand across his hair again, thinking. "So... We have to get him laid?" Dillen shakes his head. "Okay. Okay. What would make Lucas want to see that being that way isn't what he wants." He begins to pace. "Well, we already know that he doesn't like when it happens... You've seen him lock himself in his room and not come out after something like this."

"Who's to say he doesn't like it? He just knows it's bad for us and for his image." Kenneth makes not a comment on the 'getting laid' issue, though his gaze darkens even further for that short moment. "But either we all find a way to take his Rage away, or find a way to keep his Rage so that he can control it. And as far as that goes... I don't know how." At the admittance of not knowing, the Shadow Lord quickly turns away and stalks off a couple of paces away. "Even at this point, he knows - if he doesn't stop, he'll die. But at this point, even I know... maybe death is better than living out here under the thumb of this backwards sept."

Dillen takes in a breath and paces back and forth from foot to foot. "Maybe if he knows that it is going to be his death if he doesn't control it. Maybe, if we can get his permission that if we see it coming that we can jump on him and knock the shit out of him. That he can't go out alone... maybe."

Kenneth shakes his head with a rough sigh. "You don't get it either," he remarks with an icy look. "His Rage, his frenzy, is a symptom. It's an addiction. At this rate, it's just like cancer; one that neither of us can cure, and none of the doctors that could, want to even sneer at him. So even if he's going to die, then he's got it in mind to take everything around him with him and fuck he's going to like it too - that's what Thrall will do. It's /that/ mentality, that will get him killed. We have to find that 'doctor'. And then, we have to get the patient to want to go."

Dillen sighs again. "Okay. Then who do we get? Who do you think can help us?"

"Anyone. Someone who's not gonna come in half way," Kenneth growls, "And then when they take a look at him decide 'oh fuck no he's not worth it since he's dying and I can't help'." The halfmoon folds his arms over his chest, leaning against a tree with his back to the galliard. "Maybe the Garou have a trick to it, since they apparently got tricks to every goddamn thing."

Dillen grits his teeth and breathes deep. "Okay. We need to find a "doctor". I know we can't go to Megan or someone like that... They will just jump in and take over, killing him. That's not what we want." He thinks a little more. "What about Signe... Maybe I can talk to her. Just like asking questions and such."

Kenneth turns his head, so that his eye gazes sidelong at the Get. "Talk to 'er then. She's an ahroun - she ought to know how to keep it down." He sucks in a breath. "Fuck, even the fuckin' Ronin knows how to keep it on the low. Lucas has his ass in deep fuckin' shit."

"Not about to ask White Bear. He would go running fast as he can to mommy." Dillen shakes his head and sighs. "Signe will have to know something. I will talk to her as soon as I can." He sighs. "Maybe even Gunnar may know something. He's uber Garou."

Kenneth says nothing for a long time. Then he asks, "Who's Gunnar?"

"Godi. Um... Theurge. Knows a shit load of Garou stuff. Has all kinda past lives that can talk. Yeah. Gunnar is a one to talk to. May bring you along. Say you and I were talking about it an were curious." Dillen nods his head. "Yeah. Gunnar may be a link."

Kenneth shakes his head again, and in a sudden surge of anger slams his left fist into the tree nearest him. "Just tell him the truth! This isn't something to dick around on. If we're gonna find a doc, we don't just putz around on the frivolities. If Jarred's already intent on telling Megan, then we're workin' on borrowed time. Fuck. Fuck, FUCK!" The philodox retracts his hand, punching the tree again and again until something crunches - not the tree. He hisses out, and thumps his head against the tree with eyes shut tight.

Dillen stands there for a moment before he takes in a deep breath. "I will, man. I will. Dude. I'll do anything I have to to help him. I promise you that."

Kenneth retracts from the tree, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring as he lifts his hand up to see the damage dealt. Blood from scratched up knuckles oozes slightly. "I don't want to lose Lucas either," he says lowly, lowering his hand. "And fuck, we can't have a pack of two. Now Jarred's a galliard, so that's his deal with tellin' whoever the hell's in charge about Lucas slippin' up. Apparently... he doesn't think this is easy enough to handle from the inside." He looks over to the Get. "Don't tell Signe or Gunnar about Lucas' time in the warehouse. Just tell 'em that he needs some out - lookin' for some way to help him control his Rage. That's still the truth. Be a galliard... but don't be too good of a galliard, alright?"

Dillen reaches over and past Kenneth on the shoulder. "Yeah. I'll take care of it." Then looking down at his hands. "Dude. You gotta get ahold of your self too. You're a philodox. Shouldn't be this angry, man." He says it totally matter of fact, no mean in it.

Even if Dillen didn't mean it, Kenneth feels a sting. "Don't. Just don't." The halfmoon glares first, an automatic sort of expression, and then turns away. His hand hangs loose, likely broken from the ferocity of his vent. "It's not like I went around eating people."

Dillen lets out a forceful breath. "Kenneth. If you don't... You will be eating people." He isn't trying to hurt, only help.

Kenneth whirls on the Get. "I have a Perfectly Fine control over my Rage," he hisses out, that very influence rising up and baring its fangs. Just as quickly he swallows it down. "How long do we have?"

"A week." Dillen kicks at the ground. "A fucking week." His head shakes. "I could probably get maybe two... But that is pushing it.

Kenneth slips his other hand out, rubbing at his temple. "A week," he repeats. "Ok... Ok. You look for this Gunnar guy, and see if Signe also knows anything about it. I'll..." He lowers his hand and looks off into the darkening wood. "I'll look around out here an' see if I can find someone who won't flap their tongue."

Dillen nods. "Yeah." Letting out a deep breath. "Yeah. We can do this. Right?"

Kenneth keeps his cool, now that the pain is distracting him from the actual frustration of the Lucas Affair. "Yeah. We better."

Dillen nods. "Yeah. Well, I'm off to find a Get... Besides me."

Kenneth slowly breathes in and out, and simply nods to the galliard. "Meet you back at the End," he replies as an answer.

[Hours later...]

Umbra: Center of the Caern
A subtly spine-vibrating thrum of power issues once again from the once-dead caern, pricking hairs and fur. Slowly but surely, the rejuvinating actions of the Garou have slowly been transforming the recently spiritually dead caern back into something befitting a caern. The caern is once again alive with a variety of spirits, though spirits of war seem a rarity now, and Wendigo spirits are never seen. The caern, visually, falls just short of the wildest rural utopia imaginable. Only hints of the previous pollution remain--slightly less than green grass, young sapling trees where there ought to be mighty oaks and pines--and these are things that, with time and care, should eventually replace what was lost.
The air crackles with tingles of spiritual potency, though it's obvious to Garou who'd witnessed the caern earlier that the caern just isn't quite as powerful and potent as it was before the BSD invasion.
Contents:
Jamethon(#3988PJXYce)
Obvious exits:
South North West

Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous Moon phase (61% full).
Currently in Saint Claire, it is mostly cloudy. The temperature is 42 degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the east at 5 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.29 and falling, and the relative humidity is 92 percent. The dewpoint is 40 degrees Fahrenheit (4 degrees Celsius.)

A rarity, finding the Shadow Lord in the Shadow. Alone, and actually without clothes on his upper torso, the philodox wades through the thinned Gauntlet and steps sideways. The look on his face is intent, but tight. Something bothers him, but he's not in the Umbra without a purpose. He looks around the immediate area once he's through, eyeing spirits here and there at first, but not trying to pay them any mind.

Fights-For-Hope sits at the edge of the waterfall, cross-legged and wreathed in the faint glow of the gibbous moon as well as the dancing of lunes all around the Caern. He looks to be in some kind of meditation, perhaps reclaiming some of that gnosis ripped away from the revel party at the last moot.

Kenneth tilts his chin as he spies the Gatekeeper. Precise, like a missile targeted, he turns to step over towards the meditating crinos. He's not trying to be quiet about it, but at a decently respectful point of distance the halfmoon clears his throat lightly to announce his presence.

Fights-For-Hope simply chomps his teeth in answer to the throat clearing. Allow the passage of time for a few tension causing moments the Gatekeeper looks over towards Kenneth and nods his head. ~Your Gatekeeper is at your service.~ He growls lowly, clearly wishing for whatever business the Shadow Lord has to be spit out and done with.

Kenneth seems to sense the theurge's irritation, his own tension creeping up his spine. "I... need to ask your advice," he replies tightly. "In hope that I can save a packmate. But if I'm bothering your duties, just tell me to beat it and I'll go."

Fights-For-Hope does not move, so much even as slightly shake his head. His eyes stare straight and pierce the umbral night with their vivid whites. ~I am only to serve Gaia, and thus to serve those who serve her. What can your Gatekeeper do for a servant of Gaia?~

The Get would definitely scent the remnants of blood mixed in the Shadow Lord's scent. Kenneth looks off into the umbral night as he answers, "It's Lucas. He's got Issues with a capital I, when it comes to his Rage. And... I know he's an ahroun, and Rage is good for them and all that. But it's gone too far. And he really needs something to cool it, quick."

Fights-For-Hope simply asks after a moment of seeming thoughtful on the subject, ~Are you willing to kill him to save him?~

Kenneth grits his jaw. "I do what I gotta to do," he replies, but his right hand clenches up. His left, hangs loose with dried blood upon it.

Fights-For-Hope nods to this, and pushing himself up to his feet looks out into the Caern. ~Rage is our tool with which we serve Gaia. When it overcomes us, we become naught but the Wyrm's tool. Tell him, if he wishes to lead then he has to be a leader. A pack Alpha does not need to be liked by those he leads, but he does need their respect. He can not simply have their submission, not in a pack. Ask him if he thinks he is being that leader. If he says yes, then you must challenge him. Death or submission. He will probably win, but you give it your everything and you do not hold back. You try to kill him and you do it well. He will likely not submit, so you will know when you have won... he will be dead. If, or more likely when he beats the hell from you... submit. Have an elder there to view the battle just in case he gets a little over zealous. But trust me, there is nothing like the bonding of a challenge battle. Not the hot raged scraps you get into because you can't get through to him. Just the right of the Garou to know their leaders are fit. At the end of that battle you will have your problem solved. You will know what comes next. If you are brave enough. But this is a Get's way, take it, leave it, or find your own. It is in your hands.~

Kenneth takes in the Get's suggestion, but with the sole option of death or submission, he turns from the Gatekeeper and puts his right hand to his head. "Christ," he hisses out. "It's not that. It's not that at all..." Throwing his hand back down to his side, he turns. "Lucas' Rage'll get the better of him no matter if he's leader or not. He's beat the shit outta me almost every time we face off - and besides that, Dillen's already stepped up and taken the alphaship of Requiem..." The philodox stops there, shakes his head and stares hard at the theurge. "How the hell will killing him help? Isn't there some Garou trick or a spirit or Something that can be called up to help?"

Fights-For-Hope seems to if anything just be surprised in an approving manner when he hears that Dillen took over the role of Alpha. ~You miss the point. His rage is immense, you can tell this just by being near him. It comes off in a stink and I will not subject the spirits of our caern to that. You want some trick? Go ask a damn Child of Gaia. But it will never last. You want a solution, then accept the fact that the situation sucks and there is no easy way out. Maybe I'm asking too much from you, I assumed you followed Fenris' way. Bloods-Bane perhaps, can handle what needs to be done.~ He looks back to the Shadow Lord and does finally shake his head, ~There is... perhaps something. It would require a philodox with a strong sense of balance, who can keep cool when the rage of friends falls all around. When you find this philodox, ask for their help and bring them and Lucas to me here, in the Umbra. It may fail, Lucas' rage is strong. And I will not waste my and the Caern's resources to try more than once.~

Kenneth blinks - all the subtle jabs, he feels them. "I wasn't expecting an easy way," he utters lowly, exerting his will to keep himself in control. "If Lucas can't handle himself, /I/ will be the one to kill him." The Philodox states this almost as if there was no condition to it. "As for the philodox..." The Shadow Lord here lifts his chin and stares straight at the Get fostern. "You got one right here." A foolish boast perhaps, but something about the halfmoon changes over with the mention of some possibility aside from a fight to the death. He turns, as if he were going to depart. "I thank you for hearin' me out, Fights-For-Hope-rhya." Looking back, he raises his black eyes again. "If there is something you need outta me..."

Fights-For-Hope snorts at the last part, ~You will know when you need to know.~ His posture is amused as he moves to sit again to reclaim the Gnosis lost to him. ~Don't forget, balance is what matters.~

Kenneth lifts his chin again, but it is a sort of submissive gesture. "Yeah. Balance." He furrows his brow slightly at the sight of the crinos in that calm posture. The Shadow Lord then turns fully to go, uttering a low 'see ya' in the process with a lifted hand.