3/31/2005
09:31 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Currently the moon is in the waning Half Moon phase (55% full).
Currently in Saint Claire, it is raining lightly. The temperature is 46 degrees Fahrenheit (7 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the northeast at 3 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.12 and rising, and the relative humidity is 100 percent. The dewpoint is 46 degrees Fahrenheit (7 degrees Celsius.)
It is currently 21:08 Pacific Time on Thu Mar 31 2005.

Farmhouse: Kitchen and Dining Room
Homey is the first word to come to mind when looking at the farmhouse's kitchen. Dark, wood-paneled wainscoting covers the walls to about waist height, dark beige wallpaper continuing to the ceiling. Twin refrigerators occupy the north wall, facing the large six-burner stove on the south. The kitchen counter runs the length of the eastern wall, broken only by the double-basin sink. Cabinets run above and below the counter and a twin-pane window is set in the wall above the sink. A small pantry is set into an alcove alongside the refrigerators, presumably holding the deep freezer as well as shelves of dry goods.
Some twelve feet above the floor, a large chandelier hangs from the ceiling, lighting the dining room and casting long shadows over the bar to the kitchen. A long table occupies the center of the dining room, three chairs setting along each side, and one on each end. On the west wall, a large window looks out on the trees alongside the western pasture. Set into the north wall is a large cabinet, its glass doors closed on shelves containing a full compliment of fine china and glassware as well as a few decorative nicknacks. On the east, a wide bar separates the dining room from the kitchen.
An opening in the southern wall allows passage to the front entryway of the house, while a sliding glass door in the kitchen opens to a clearing behind the house.
(Non-Garou, please "+view curse")
Contents:
Nascha
Basil
Obvious exits:
Hallway/Living Room  Back Door  

Basil says "Man." Basil says as he fixes up a sandwich, mostly talking himself. Peanut butter, and bananas are slapped down on toasted bread and the kid takes off his sweater again. "I wonder how long I'm going to be kept here... Going to go stir crazy unless I start doing something." Crunch. He takes a satisfying bite then sits down the 'wrong way' in a kitchen chair, leaning foward on the back, sipping at a coke. "At least it's nice."

Kenneth appears by the farmhouse's sliding door, pushing it open without so much as a knock. Spying Basil next to the kitchen table, the Shadow Lord looks at the cub with a tiny bit more hostility than usual. Though, what is the halfmoon's 'usual' level would be hard to say. "Yo," he grunts out, moving for the refridgerator first.

Several minutes after Kenneth arrives, so does another face appear looking in through the glass sliding door. Squint. Nascha slowly opens the door and looks in with a contained look of curiosity. "Ah, good evening. Am I disturbing anything?" She asks as she sees two people already here.

Basil puts his soda on the table and lifts a hand to wave and Kenneth. "Hey Kenneth-Rhya. Hows it going? Well, I hope." Basil keeps his eyes on the Shadow Lord, smiling as usual. "Nope. Nothing at all miss. Just come on in, plenty of room. House is a little empty right now anyways... Save for people that have to stay here."

"Baz," Kenneth growls out sharply before shutting the fridge door, Coke in hand, "if you haven't yet read every single book in this farmhouse, then you haven't got reason to complain." The halfmoon goes to sit at the table as well, cracking his soda open. Then, as Nascha appears at the sliding door his eyes focus on her. "Name, rank an' affiliation?"

Nascha gives the sandwich-eating boy a nod and she steps in, closing the door behind. "I am Nascha Tenduzi, Cals-Down-the-Stars-to-Judge. Cliath lawgiver of the Uktena, neice of Jacob Cold-Lake, Alpha of the Midnight Fire sept. I am here to offer my assistance to the Guardian Pack who I have already spoken to. The majority, that is."

Basil says "A Bone Gnawer peed herself in wolf form and got it all over my feet after I showered. I have a right to complain, today. At least a little." He yawns a little bit. "Besides, it won't take me long to read those books. Trust me." He glances back to the woman. "Nice to meet you, Nascha-Rhya. Would you prefer me to keep calling you that, or no?"

Kenneth, upon mention of urine, does that reflexive sniff most normal people take. "Gnawer hunh? Good luck gettin' that off," he remarks, a sip of Coke accompanying it. To Nascha, he gestures with his head towards a free chair. "Kenneth Saitou-Sardelis, Dagger's-Edge to the Garou, cliath philodox of the Shadow Lords." Gaze sliding towards Basil, he adds, "Give an intro, Baz."

In the front rooms, Andy steps in from the porch, closing the front door behind him.
Nascha gives her nose a sour wrinkle at Basil's statement. Kenneth's introduction gets a nod as the Uktena shifys her keen eyes on him, giving the boy a close studying as she waits for him to speak.

Basil says "Yeah. Joey. Brom scared her so bad without even talking to her that she went wolf and bolted. I guess it's a good thing I didn't have any shoes on... She does prove Brom's point well though. You've got to have some back bone if you ever hope to get anywhere." He nods to Kenneth, then turns his attention back to Nascha. "I'm Basil, or Baz, Nascha-Rhya. Ahroun, cub, no Tribe."

Kenneth takes a sip of his Coke again, but doesn't say anything as Basil gives his introduction.

"Well met, Basil." Says Nascha with a dip of her head while pulling out a chair that she can sit on. "A lost cub? Shame. Those are becoming more and more common as the End Day grows closer. Have you made any choices on a tribe or are you still looking?"

[look Nascha]
Nascha is a petite young woman of what would seem, at first glance, a native American origin. Her face is round and her skin of a smooth, light, even copper color. Her black hair is long and thick, frequently tied back with a strip of leather in a braided bun for ease and function and occasionally spotted with beads. Even her eyes, a dark cocoa brown, have that slightly 'pulled back' look, which in her case often emphasizes the thoughtful expression on her face. However, there is something else in her, often taking a good second look to determine. The shape of her lips and the form of her nose, the slight kink to her hair and the faint browner tinge to her skin - all suggestive of African blood. It would seem the less dominant end of her blood. Often she can be seen in traditional dress of leathers and woven cloth, but there are rare occasions when jeans and old flannel tops are required - though not often.
Basil bows his head to her. "Thank you, and likewise. Yeah, I've got no Tribe, no teacher, none of that yet. Kenneth has taught me some things though. And I learned a few things here and there. But I'm not sure where I want to go with, and no one has really argued their case yet or promoted their Tribe much besides the Coggies and the Get. I don't think I want to be a Gnawer from what I've heard... Or a Glass Walker, but I don't know them either."

Nascha listens closely to the Ahroun's words, nodding her head here or there to indicate with her otherwise neutral expression that she is paying attention. "Neither would be my choice, had I one. Their love of the Weaver is not something I favor nor do I find it healthy. That is me, however. Well, as I am not an official member of this sept yet, I cannot offer you any lessons. I can tell you of my tribe, though, if you wish to know. I have become aware I am only one of two present in this place."

Kenneth snorts, opinion forming fast and furious. "Brom's a shithead who don't know anything but how to beat heads in. You wanna be like him? Go right on ahead." The Coke can twists in his hand, the Shadow Lord keeping his eyes pointedly on the red and white labeling. "Walkers... they get hated on by the other woodsier tribes 'cause they get hookups when it comes to technology and all that. But Traditional Garou aren't gonna like you much if you're a Weaver-lover." Once the brief moment of annoyance passes, he adds, "And as far as Shadow Lords go, well... I'll tell you later some time. Just say that it's better'n the Silver Fangs' country club."

The light clattering of the front door and squeaky bootsteps mark the arrival of a Silver Fang that isn't at the Rest for once. Incredible. Andy looks his usual casual but frighteningly tidy, the cub apparently headed for the refrigerator when he steps from the hall and stumbles upon the small gathering in the kitchen. He pauses at the end of the hall and regards Kenneth. "What about the Silver Fangs?"

[look Andy]
He's a seemingly average kid, looking to be around the age of thirteen to sixteen. He stands about five and a half feet tall, which is a little much for his age. His hair is sandy blond and short, he keeps it combed straight down the middle and pulled off to either side. His eyes are a clear blue shade with just a hint of green about the very pupil. He's a medium build, not buff by any means but with plenty enough strength to be steady about himself. He's usually found wearing a comfortable pair of brown corduroy pants and a silver-gray teeshirt with a large Nike swoosh on the back. Footwear consists of some comfortable but still new-looking hiking boots, he's very neat about himself for someone his age.

Basil says "I'm all ears for just about anything anyone wants to tell me, but opinions vary so greatly between people about the Tribes. Kind of hard to tell. Kind of funny to ask Brom about the Black Furies though." He grins wide, remembering the big man's reaction to talking about them. "But in regards to technology... I never liked it much. Unless it goes 'boom'. The only thing I want to learn involving technology really, is how to drive, and how to shoot a gun." He licks his lips and smiles a little. "You don't like Brom very much, almost sounds personal. I don't know about the Fangs though. I met one last night, Jervis. He seemed kind of cool. But I kept wanting to tell him to get a top hat, he seemed like it would hit him." Another roll of the shoulders and he looks up at the new arrival. "Ah. We were just talking about Tribes."

Kenneth regards Andy with relatively neutrality in his gaze. "Just mentioning how the Fangs are rather exclusive when it comes to who gets into their club," he replies to the stranger. "And Baz," he says, turning to look at the lost cub, "it ain't personal. It's just Fact. Brom is a meathead. A jock. He's a /Get/." The last is said with tense emphasis before it too fades with a rough grunt. "As for the rest of the tribes, you know Furies, they're all girls so don't bother. Gnawers, Children of Gaia, Fianna, Get of Fenris, Glass Walkers... Talons are all lupus so scratch that, Silent Striders run around a lot but there're a few here like Tamara. Wendigo - you ain't Native American enough, Uktena..." The halfmoon pauses, glancing to Nascha before resuming, "Fangs, Shadow Lords. Stargazers, thirteenth tribe, decided to bow out an' go wherever it is they went."

Nascha gives Andy a quick, but thorough look, before her attention goes back to Basil. "We, the Uktena who follow the great river-spirit of the same name, are one of the three Pure Tribes, three brothers who came to this land long before any other Garou. There were us, our middle brother the Croatan, and the youngest brother, the Wendigo. When the European Garou came, they brought with them a great evil that was haulted only by the sacrifice of the entire Croatan tribe. To this day, many of my tribe still search for them in the Umbra. We Uktena were once of all native stock, like the Wendigo, but we have since come to adopt many other races who were driven from their ancestral homes as we once were. My mother was Navajo but my father came from Africa. We are the seekers of knowledge and wisdom that will one day lay low the Great Serpent."

Andy doesn't say much, he's more of a listener than a talker anyway. Instead the cub nearly leans on the wall that marks the hall's end, barely touching it with his shoulder. A quick nod to Basil and restrained laughter at the top hat for Jervis comment, and a semiformal nod of greeting to Kenneth. "Guess its a birth thing, I've never met a Fang that wasn't born into our tribe." He looks over Nascha quickly but curiously as well, though he withholds his formal greeting for the moment, the cub not wanting to come off as.. stiff, as his elders.

Basil shakes his head a little bit. "After talking with KL, I can say if they all share her views and are so easily worked up... I wouldn't want to join them even if I could. I suggested that perhaps men led society because they were naturally stronger. We were getting along fine until then. Then I'm an asshole, an idiot, blah blah blah, join the Get..." He lifts his hands up straight out, spreading his fingers wide then letting his arms drop. "Heh... Well. I got to get someone to teach me to kick ass. Be honest with you... Brom is the most impressive person I've met. Not the kindest, or not someone I'd want as a friend. But man, he's built like a brick shithouse." "Seems kind of weird that Tribes would close off whole views though." He goes quiet as Nascha starts to talk however, giving her his full attention. "Ah... A noble sacrifice. Your Tribe sounds very spiritual, if I may say so, Nascha-Rhya. Do you know much about the spirits, or have any interesting stories about them?"

Kenneth frowns, with the can in his hand getting another low 'Crunch' to indicate his displeasure at Basil's words. Abruptly, the Shadow Lord stands with a clatter of his chair, taking a long swig of his soda before walking over towards the kitchen sink and staring down at it instead. For now, he doesn't say anything.

"We are diverse." Nascha states with a knowing nod of her head. "Many of us are spiritual as many of us are warriors. Our tribe is made of many peoples so we reflect that." Stretching out her hand, her sleeve pulls back to show a tattoo drawn in a coil aaround her arm, thick with tribal designs. However, it slowly begins to unravel and pool in her hand, stretching up and down until it forms into a very solid, six-foot tall walking staff ornately carved with both native american and african designs. "My tribe is strong in the matters of the spirits and the Umbra. Uktena grants even those of us who are not born of the crescent moon the ability to speak with the spirits."

That certainly catches the Fang cub's eye, and being a cub, Andy dares not interrupt. Instead he slips silently over to the refrigerator, withdrawing a can of some variety of vegetable juice, a likely V8 knockoff. Doing that Galliard thing he does, he retreats to a far corner and watches, listening as well. From the look of burning curiousity he's likely never met an Uktena and it shows. He intermittently sips on his juice and stays mindfully clear of the seemingly upset Shadow Lord.

Basil isn't sure what to say at Kenneth, but he feels like he's wounded or stung him in some way. He just keeps his attention on Nascha for now, his eyes mostly centered on her own. His eyes lower to the movement of the woman, and as the tattoo moves he can't help but grin. "Just like Brom's hammer. How goes that work? Is it real? If it isn't real I wouldn't see the point... So that is probably a yes." He almost moves a hand but it peters out to just a mere twitch. "I'd like to go there someday and see, maybe talk to the spirits sometime." A momentary pause ensues as a thought crosses Basil's mind and his eyes drift upwards. "Do physics, gravity, and all of that type of thing still apply in the Umbra?"

Stacey slides open the glass door and steps into the kitchen. There is unusually nothing happy about the young girl, just a tenseness, more than a hint of the rage within her, and an overall aura of 'don't-even-think-about-messing-with-me-now'. She grimly scans the room, checking out who is present, as she slides the door closed. Nascha and Kenneth each get a slight nod, while Andy and Basil get more of a narrowing of eyes. "Evening all," the preteen manages, then makes her way towards the fridge.

Kenneth looks up from the sink as once again the glass door opens, and this time allows in a very different looking Stacey. The Shadow Lord's previous tension thins just a bit, as he observes her make her way towards the fridge past him. But, to prove he was paying attention, the halfmoon answers Basil, "This work pretty different in the Umbra, but there's still gravity and physics. Most of the time."

"It is real." Nascha says as she sweeps out the end of the staff in case the lost cub wishes to check for himself. "It has been Dedicated to me. It becomes apart of myself when I am not holding it. It will also come with me into the Umbra. Regarding your question, the laws you speak of only work when the Umbra chooses to have them work. There are places where time does not exist and a mile is as long as an inch or a lightyear. The Umbra is dangerous and unpredictable. Never travel it alone, cub, and never step in when the sun still shines or the moon is less than half. Even many well versed Garou step carefully in the Velvet Shadow." The arrival of Stacey is noted and nodded at before the lawgiver looks back to Basil.

Basil 's nose twitches as he gets a bad look from Stacey, the cub soon quickly and discretely looking away from her. He doesn't know what he did, if anything, but writes it up to just her being an Ahroun. "Sounds kind of interesting... And fun. I know it's dangerous and alll... But I'd still like to go sometime. See it for myself. Explore." He reaches his hand out and runs it across the staff the woman holds in her hand, only giving it a light brush however. "Good work went into this... But yeah, I probably shouldn't go into the Umbra now. I can't even walk in most of the forms, correctly anyways. I look like a monkey in Hispo."

Stacey reaches the fridge and yanks on the handle, using a bit too much force judging by the way the door swings open. Wrinkling her nose at that, she reaches in a picks out a soda, then shuts the fridge, nicer about it this time. The girl moves a bit closer to where Kenneth is standing and leans against the counter as she turns to listen to the conversation. She doesn't add anything, just busies herself with opening the soda can and taking a drink.

Kenneth tilts his Coke back, downing a good deal of it before it is pulled from his lips again. Eye still on the just entered Stacey, he waits until she is relatively settled before turning back to the conversation between Nascha and Basil. "How do you know that you look like a monkey in Hispo?" he asks.

Nascha actually does something unusual. She smiles. Barely, but it's there. "You sound like many in my tribe, Basil. I know many who spend most of their lives exploring the depths of the Umbra." Slowly, she returns the staff to dedication as it melts back into the curling tattoo on her arm. "Perhaps when I am accepted and you are ready I can teach you of the Umbra. I am not a shaman, but I know much of it." Kenneth is given a slightly curious look at his question.

Basil 's attention is back to Kenneth whilst he eats the rest of his sandwich, then replies. "Ever seen how a baboon or a running gorilla moves? Kind of like that. I'm sure I'll get the hang of it sooner or later though, and I can stand at least... Been practicing every night." He flashes a wide smile back at Nascha. "I'd really like that, whenever you become accepted. If you wouldn't mind. I'll probably still be around here when you become a member. Haven't got a home, or any money. So."

Stacey takes a sip of her soda and either drinks it the wrong way or thinks of something amusing, because she starts choking a bit and coughing, turning her back to the others.

Kenneth glances back to Stacey as the Coggie sputters, eyeing her. "You alright?" he asks briefly. "Well, you don't gotta worry 'bout lookin' like a monkey, so long as you get through whatever obstacle you get presented with."

"I would teach you now, but I do not want to step on anyone's territory." Nascha says to Basil. "Soon, I hope to be a full member once I have spoken more with Reggie Rags-Torn-to-Rags about my chiminage."

Basil says "Like I said, I'm sure I'll get over my wonky footed nature sooner or later." He laughs a little bit. "Don't worry. I'll be around, and I'm glad that at least someone wants to teach me something beyond the basics. And you don't seem to be very angry. Which is good, because I seem to be rather adept at making people go rar inadvertently."

Stacey closes her eyes and takes a moment to collect herself, seeming to be having a hard time doing so. Her mood seems to have brightened a tad. At least, she doesn't appear to be as tense and about to explode as before. Finally she glances sideways at Kenneth, half-smirking, and murmurs, "Swallowed wrong. Lesson learned: don't drink and breathe."

The kitchen door opens and closes with a clatter as Brom makes his way in, shirt draped over his barrel chest, sweat soaking his body. He has a pleased grin upon his face as he lumbers towards the sink.

Kenneth, being right in front of the sink as it were, looks over when Brom enters and his reply to Stacey is promptly drowned, what decent-natured will he had going melting down and freezing into an icy mask.

"All cubs do, more often than not." Nascha points out to the Ahroun cub with a sagelike quality. "You will learn. It only takes time and dedication. Even anger can learn to be controlled, but for us Garou, that is one of the hardest lessons to learn and often takes a great deal of sacrifice and suffering." And again, the attentive Uktena's attention is diverted by the Get's entrance. Hm.

Basil looks up and over as Brom enters, and immediately a thoughtful look becomes more of a grin. "Hello Brom. How are you doing? Looks like you've been working hard." As Nascha's words reach his ears, he soon looks back to her and bows his head. "I'm hoping to learn how to do that, aswell... When I actually make friends or do a pack, I can't lose myself. I've got to have discipline. A disorderly crowd is no more an army then a pile of building supplies is a building."

Stacey instantly tenses once she sees Brom, any semblance of a good mood gone. The small girl clenches her teeth and mutters unintelligibly before turning and heading for the sliding door.

Sensing the change in the mood puts Brom into an even better mood as he glances first at Stacey, then at Kenneth, a smug grin crossing over his lips. "Hey there Basil. Yes, I was indeed working hard. I run laps around the expanse of the bawn at night and try to get in as many miles before my legs protest, then I run home, or stay here.. depending on how much I figure the effort would be." He cracks his neck a bit, his eyes studying Nascha in return, looking her over, before snorting. "You learn anything new today, cub?"

Kenneth doesn't return the grin in the slightest, moving off from the sink and in opposite direction from Stacey. He heads for the halfway-entry point from the hallway into the kitchen, not bothering to say whether he is truly departing or not.

Basil shakes his head at Brom while lifting a hand to brush some hair from his young face. "Aside from what you told me earlier, I've only learned a few snippets from the Tribes from Kenneth-Rhya, and a little history and such from Nascha-Rhya." He bows his head to the Get, reaching behind him to grab his coke. I was out running a bit earlier too... Can't do too much though, ain't good enough yet. Can't do much in the way of push ups either."

Nascha regards the Fenrir with a closer look as he looks at her, the typical subtle stare of Uktena curiosity on her face. Slowly, the lawgiver rises out of the chair she occupies and pushes it back under the table. "If you had any more questions about my tribe, Basil, I will return in a few days time. Until then, take care. I am returning to the city to seek out my tribal elder." This she declares more to all those gathered.

Stacey reaches the glass door, slides it open, and walks out of the kitchen into the Barnyard.

Watching Ken go one way, Stacey the other, Brom shifts his eyes to Nascha as she now starts to leave. He lets out a soft rumble and folds his arms about him a bit, studying her, before turning back to the cub. "I take it that is Nascha Rhya then. So, you want to get good at that stuff, push ups and running?" He asks curiously.

Kenneth can be heard to thump bodily against the side of the hallway, but the Shadow Lord doesn't sound like he's immediately leaving.

Basil lifts a hand and waves to the departing Native, but no one else if they don't regard him as they leave. "I'd love to hear more, of your Tribe and of any stories you might have. If I'm not in the house when you return, check the barn or the field. I'll probably be here though. Goodbye." He turns back to Brom, a smirk coming to his face once again. "Not really. I'd avoid the whole athletics thing if I could, but running in the field is kind of... It isn't exactly fun, but something like it. But I'm supposed to be a fighter. If I can't move fast, I can't hit fast, or retreat. And if I don't have any upper body strength, I won't be able to swing as hard, or fire a weapon as well."

Nascha dips her head to the Ahroun before slipping our through the back door and on her way.

Brom nods his head sharply. "A smart or skilled Ahroun does not need to be fast to be an efficient killer, they just need to know how to hit and where to hit their enemy. Its about using their strengths against them to create their greatest weakness." He shifts his shoulders a bit, glancing into the hallway, maybe a bit more accusingly in Ken's direction, then looks back to the cub. "If you want, I can take you to the barn and beat the hell out of you a bit, show you what you're doing wrong and how to make it better, teach you about the forms also."

Kenneth doesn't say a word. Only a creak of the wood in the hallway notes that the Shadow Lord is still there. Or the house is settling.

Basil nods at Brom. "That may be... But there is something to be said for brute force aswell as precision. Like a Panther tank, for instance. Heavy armored plate made it very dangerous, accuracy and power was virtually unmatched, and unlike the Tiger tank it could book if it needed to. That kept it from being flanked as easily, and pounded to scrap. Besides... I also heard I might have to, well. Lead." He shrugs his shoulders. "And I know that I wouldn't follow someone with my build into combat without a bit of 'Hm. Hope he holds up.' running through my mind. I want my packmates or anyone that follows me to know that I won't screw up when it counts. Cause then, shit. Their blood would be on my hands aswell as my enemy's." He tosses his can across the kitchen, sinking it into the trash. "I know the forms a bit, but what would the beating do exactly?"

"It'd just toughen you up, and trust me, Ahrouns are not Panther tanks." Brom says with a snort. "A true leader must need a brain on his shoulders as well as strong claws in his fists. Being fast has nothing to do with it. If you're the fastest but your pack mate is the slowest, then you are only as fast as your slowest pack mate. Like I said, its all about what you do with the battle." He cracks his neck, then makes his way for the back door. "So, you ganna throw a few punches with me or sit around and talk all fucking night, cuz' you do that too much as it is."

Kenneth only then steps back into the kitchen. Just a pace. The Shadow Lord's gaze travels out towards the sliding door rather than the two in the kitchen, though he seems too, to be waiting to hear the answer of the cub.

Basil says "I know about using my brain. Tactics are very important in any battle. A while ago, just three hundred Spartan warriors killed thousands upon thousands of Persian elite soldiers in combat. Then the Persians had to retreat and polish'm off with arrows. Those men were some of the bravest, most hard core bastards that ever lived. I think the Sec something were there too. Anyways." Basil stands up. "I know what you mean. I'd never leave a packmate. Or at least I pray that I wouldn't. Damn well wouldn't want it on my conscious. And I think of it this way. I'm not thrilled about the idea of getting hit, but I've got to learn somehow. Besides, if I say no, you'll write me off as a pussy. If I say yes, I'll probably get a little respect. Or at least a little more then that Gnawer... " He wrinkles his nose. "She pissed the floor after you left and tried to run out the front door. So yeah, I'll go with you. Just don't hit me with the fucking hammer, eh?"

Barking out a loud laugh, Brom shakes his head. "She pissed on the floor? Sweet Gaia.. what a fucking pussy." He says, shifting his shoulders back. "An like I said, you talk too fucking much. Who gives a fuck about Persian's and Spartans. The only thing you need to think and worry about is how Garou in the past fougth their battles and how you are going to become a better Ahroun and learn from it all. Stop comparing life to history books, most of that shit is made up anyways. The Garou has had their claws in almost all of Earth's lore." Cracking his neck to one side, he gives Ken a long stare, then pushes his way out the door.

Big Red Barn(#3420RA)
The barn is built in the old style, a vast three level structure that is greater in height than a mere three stories, actually closer to five. Great wooden posts support the weight of the upper levels and roof, sunk into the hard-packed dirt floor of the first level like a sparse forest of regularly spaced, naked trees. The stalls and flagstones which once were here have been torn out to leave a rather open area where even crinos Garou may roam freely without fear of running into anything but the supports or the walls or the ladder at the back which allows access to the other two levels.
The first two levels are relatively open to each other, the second being only little wider than a catwalk going around all the walls but the front one, which has massive, twenty foot tall doors set into it. The third level is a true second floor except for a place cut out that allowed hay to be tossed down to the ground floor when the farm was actually worked. Now, it is a hayloft where Garou can sleep outside of the house.
(Non-Garou, please "+view curse")
Contents:
Basil
Brom
Obvious exits:
BarnYard  

Brom pushes open the barn doors and makes his way inside, swinging his arms from side to side as he works out his worn out joints, then heads to the punching bag that is set up hanging from one of the rafters.

Kenneth enters soon after, silent as a stormcloud. Not 'til Brom is well into the barn does the Shadow Lord finally speak. "That's how you got taught hunh? Gettin' your skull crushed in 'til something finally stuck."

Basil says "Yeah, she pissed the floor. When I mentioned she got some on my feet, she ran away crying upstairs. Sorry for talkin' too much. I dunno... I just liked reading about battles, and other history. Heroes. People fighting for what they believe in against odds they wouldn't gamble on in Vegas. The things they must have seen... " He looks over at Brom again. "You ever seen something in battle that just made you feel a little further away from your soul? What was your first fight like? Garou fight, I mean."

Brom cracks his shoulders and goes to answer the cub, before turning his eyes upon Kenneth. He shoots the Shadow Lord a withering look. "Hey fucker, am I talking to you? Don't you have something better to do than piss me off tonight, like, I don't know.. eat a fucking grandma or something?"

Basil goes quiet, glancing at Kenneth then back to Brom, he moves off to one side just incase one of them loses their pretty little heads. His hands go down and rise, taking his sweat shirt with them. A quick flick of the wrist and it flies off onto a pile of hay.

Kenneth shrugs a shoulder, hand slipping into his pocket as his cold expression remains smooth. "Talkin' to me now aren't you?" he asks rhetorically. The verbal jab isn't returned.

There is a snort, eyes rolling as Brom regards the cub again. "Anyways, first thing I do in the morning after waking up is I do an hour of stretching. You always want to get yourself limbered up before going into anything more aggressive, such as fighting or working out and lifting weights. If your body isn't stretched out well, it'll just hurt like all fucking hell in the morning, at least when you're starting out. If I were you and was serious about getting yourself in training, start doing that, stretch. Sit on your ass and spread your legs out, try and touch your toes, arch your back, get your arms worked out. It'll do you good in the long run. After that, start on easy things to warm yourself up, like push ups, sit ups, basic crunches, jumping jacks. Do a few days of that, then work yourself into the harder things like pull ups, chin ups.. arm curls, leg pressing. Your body needs to develop a sixth sense when it comes to working out on a full time basis, and make sure you know how to breathe properly too. You want strong lungs to go along with your strong body."

Basil nods to the Get and soon sits himself down on the floor, carefully spreading his legs out and beginning to stretch as instructed. It doesn't take too much effort on the part of the cub as Basil is a bit naturally bendy, and the fact he doesn't have a gut to get in the way helps a lot. "Heh. That would explain the aches I had. I thought I was going to fucking die the other morning. We were just starting to do most of the stuff you mentioned in PE, that and dodge ball." He stands up after completing his stretches, rolling his shoulders and getting a few satisfying cracks from various joints. "I've got a lot to do, yeah. Maybe someday I'll be as strong as you or one of your family, eh?" Another smirk. "But that is a long ways off."

Kenneth takes up a spot beside the barn door, leaning against the wood as he watches in silence. Both hands slip into his jean pockets, and the Shadow Lord observes without comment.