Christine and Rites

1/14/2006

06:34 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Currently the moon is in the waning Full Moon phase (99% full).
It is currently 18:26 Pacific Time on Sat Jan 14 2006.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is partially cloudy. The temperature is 41 degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the west at 5 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.84 and rising, and the relative humidity is 76 percent. The dewpoint is 34 degrees Fahrenheit (1 degrees Celsius.)

Odeon - Theatre(#3973RA)
The floor sticks to one's shoes like flypaper, and the seats all sag limply under even the slightest pressure. It's dark and dank with the evaporation of untold unknown liquids, and sounds echo menacingly off the soundproofed, honeycombed walls. The theatre is like a giant abandoned hive filled with row upon row of empty egg sacs; about a hundred of them, arranged in two columns, with three neat walkways, one through the middle and one on either side. High up and inset over the lobby doors is the projectionist's booth, a small alcove overlooking the theatre; opposite it is the screen, framed by ratty curtains that no longer close, and taking up most of the wall. It can no longer serve it's purpose, though: the screen is no longer blank, scrawled across it, from top to bottom, is a disconcerting mess of fluorescent grafitti which glows out bright oranges and greens even in the dark theatre. Like massive glowing worms the lines coil in and out of tags and outlines of images, in a roiling, reeling, psychedelic nightmare. The hundred empty seats all point towards it, mute and dusty.
Contents:
Christine
Squeaks
Obvious exits:
LObby  Alley  

Say-Your-Prayers is loping across the theatre in front of the screen, with something of a general's military high-step. Her tail is held so high so that the tip nearly droops forward, huskylike. Behind her is Squeaks, who keeps clawing playfully at the older Theurge's flank, though she is of a comparable size with Say-Prayers.

Yi steps in out of the night's weather, passing through the lobby and audibly entering the lobby with a crackle of a brown paper bag. It's followed by greasy scent of cooked meat and sauce. "Hello? Anyone in?" Into the dark, she squints. Doesn't take long for Squeaks to recognize voice, scent, and above it all, food.

Squeaks overtakes Say-Prayers immediately, to sit with begging eyes at Yi's feet. Say-Prayers barks once and thumps her hind quarters to the floor to wait for Yi to come further in. Her mouth hangs open smilingly.

Yi braces herself for a barrage of fur and claw, instead being surprised by the utter opposite. Immensely pleased with this show of manners, the fostern dutifully rewards Squeaks with dinner. Her prize given away, she proceeds further in with a wave and a smile to the theurge. Behind her, Squeaks promptly rips open the bag and paper take-out box housing the food. Yi glances back just for a moment. "I hope she remembers the metal handle this time." Then, she turns back to the lupus. "Good evening. How are you doing tonight?"

Say-Prayers blurs and shifts up. She crosses her arms over her breast. "I'm good. Let me get the lantern, and we'll get started?"

Yi nods, eyes averting politely in consideration of the girl's shy side. "Of course," she replies evenly, fishing in a number of her pockets. She finds what she's looking for - a small lighter - and goes to light a few melted candles along the stage for some better lighting. "Pick any spot you are comfortable with. Are you cold?"

Christine grabs her shirt and sweatshirt off of the back of one of the seats and, draping them over her shoulders, uproots the electric lantern from the drink-holder where it is inserted. She twists the top on and sets it back in the drink holder, where it fans out a feathery light. Christine pulls her shirt on, and then tugs the faded Harvard sweatshirt down like a second skin. With that, she settles into the seat next to the lantern.

Yi inspects the candles to make sure they're not about to fizzle, and then makes her way to the lantern light. Slowly she eases herself down, favoring her right leg slightly as she sits as well, across from the girl. "This is going to be your first rite, yes? So it is best to first start with the simple things. Did you ever ask Olga about them before? Some times, theurges are better to explain to theurges about Garou ritual."

Christine is wriggling into her jeans while Yi speaks. "I know another--Sand in the Shoe, I think it's called. Olga taught me." She crosses her legs then and slouches back. Squeaks comes up to her, nosing for attention, and Christine shoves her mouth away.

"Oh! Wonderful," Yi says with a tint of relief. "Then you know about the basic ritual. I do not know Sand in Shoes, but a couple of others I do. Tituals can become very complicated very quickly, but there is always a base to it. I like to compare it to cooking, sometimes. Every rite has its ingredients, and the way to cook it. Some people will cook one way, some will cook another, but it can only be success if you still come out with a similar result." She pauses, so far just being conversational. Squeaks gets a glance, though now her main attention is focused upon the theurge.

"Er," Yi checks herself, apparently not having noticed her tongue-tied moment. "Rituals. Rites." A second more passes before she clears her throat again. "Every Garou rite has a name to it. Why this is, I sometimes think this is not just for our memory and to show what it does, but because it is a tribute to the past as well."

"What do you mean?" says Christine. There's a crease to her brow that hasn't eased since Yi entered.

Yi taps a finger on her knee, thinking before she explains, "Garou rites have names like Sand in Shoes, or the Rite of Talisman Dedication, yes? I think these names are given to them to remind us of where the ritual came from. It is something like, history."

Christine turns her head to the side fractionally, blinking. "Like, originally only talismans were dedicated? That's like a necklace, right?"

The finger roams up to her temple, scratching lightly. "Maybe," Yi replies. "When I learned this rite, Grandmother said it was like..." The conversation trails, with the ragabash clearly turning gears in mind. "Like turning what you wish to dedicate and turning it into a talisman. A charm. Maybe in the old days, it was a necklace. Who knows?" She shrugs.

Christine gives a ever-so-slight, ever-so-patient frown. "So I'm turning my sweatshirt and bra and stuff into a magic charm?"

Yi responds with a slight nod. "But," she adds, "it is also meant to harmonize your spirit side with the items you wish to dedicate to yourself. It can be called magic, but the very bottom of this ritual, starts with an understanding that you will be asking the spirit to join with you." She fumbles about for the word, before deciding on, "It is harmony you seek. When you and the clothes, or other item, become one with each other, then those items can be brought with you into the spirit world, or shift with you into your different forms."

Christine says, "What spirit am I asking to join me?"

"The spirit of whatever you wish to dedicate to yourself," Yi replies. "Your clothes. A weapon. Anything can be dedicated... or so one might think. When you wish to dedicate something to yourself, your spirit," she points towards the theurge, "must be ready for it."

Christine listens to Yi's pronouncements without visible personal interest--hers is the attention of a student who studies just enough to pass the test. "OK," she says. She gives a respectful pause. "I believe I'm ready."

Yi closes her eyes briefly, breathing quietly like this were already the beginning of the ritual already. "Ok," she says after another bit, eyes opening. "What did you bring to dedicate?"

Say-Prayers tugs on the hood of the sweatshirt. "This. Pants too. Y'know, same as last time around. I can't really remember what it was like last time--just that it was really freaky and it had candles and looked a lot like voodoo or something."

Yi bites her lower lip, refraining from chuckling and turning to avoid showing too much mirth. "Ok, I admit the last time, it was more like that for show. Really, this one could be done with a quiet spot and a few words said to spirit and Gaia."

Christine stares at Yi for a considering moment. "You set that whole thing up to freak me out, didn't you?" She shakes her head, and if there's a shallow mirth in her eyes, there's a deeper hint of grudges unforgiven. But she only sniffs, and looks away. "/Ragabash/," she accuses, lightly.

"You would not have taken it so seriously if I did not do it like that," Yi mockpouts defensively, eventually breaking off the faked indignation and replacing it with a smirk. "It's my job," she adds with finally a small laugh. "But the show also has meaning to it." The laugh slips away, replaced again with calm. "A true harmony can only be gotten when you understand what it is you dedicate to yourself."

Christine stares at Yi for a considering moment. "You set that whole thing up to freak me out, didn't you?" She shakes her head, and if there's a shallow mirth in her eyes, there's a deeper hint of grudges unforgiven. But she only sniffs, and looks away. "/Ragabash/," she accuses, lightly.

"You would not have taken it so seriously if I did not do it like that," Yi mockpouts defensively, eventually breaking off the faked indignation and replacing it with a smirk. "It's my job," she adds with finally a small laugh. "But the show also has meaning to it." The laugh slips away, replaced again with calm. "A true harmony can only be gotten when you understand what it is you dedicate to yourself."

Christine sniffs--she doesn't seem ready to let it go that quickly. "I didn't understand a thing. I was just standing there trying not to piss myself. You do that to every cub?"

Yi tilts her head to a side, much like a wolf would. "Yes?" she echoes, half answer, half question. "It is how I was taught - Grandmother Rui, who taught me, learned it that way and taught it that way. Sometimes I need to improvise, like the candles instead of an actual fire. But her way is very traditional, and maybe not the way the Garou here of the West learn it." She pauses, hand to lips, thinking retrospectively. "I also perform it first that way if the one I perform it on, I do not know how strong their spirit is. Better to be sure you have covered the ground than to discover the spirits are not satisfied."

Christine lowers her eyes by an inch or so, until the line of her gaze rests on Yi's breastbone. "The Chinese way of doing the Rites is better than the US's?" she asks, with unhostile curiosity.

Yi breaks out a laugh at that, but it's one of quiet grace. "That would depend on who you ask. If you ask me, though, there are not better or worse, just different. But the basics are the same - maybe because we are all Garou."

Christine makes a thoughtful, back-of-the-throat sound. "You know anything about the Korean Garou?" she asks.

"Ah... a little only," Yi admits as her laugh flitters off back into quiet. "I have met only the few who might have stopped by the larger.. caern, in Hong Kong, and only then in passing." She pauses shortly, head tilting again.

Christine blows air out of pursed lips, nodding. "I'm not all hung up on my birth heritage crap. I mean, I'm MTV-gen American, 100%. Just curious sometimes, y'know?"

That seems to give the ragabash a bit of comfort, or at the very least relief. She breathes out softly and resumes a bit of ritual-like composure. "So, you said you think you know how this ritual thing works now?" she asks.

Christine says, "Maybe this ritual. Not all of them. I don't know--go on, and I'll get the hang of it." She leans forward in her seat, propping her elbows atop her knees to support her chin. "Oh, wait." She slides from the chair, and it snaps up into its folded position behind her. "Forgot my shoes. Don't start without me, hear?"

Yi shakes her head, her expression the very picture of 'Why, I wouldn't dream of it!' Only when the gathered materials are assembled, does she begin with a short, sing-songy hum as she inspects the clothing. Once she's satisfied her own curiosity (and kept Squeaks from poking around too much as well) the ragabash gestures to the clothing. "When you are dedicating items to yourself, you must remember what they are. A piece of cloth might not have much spirit to it, but something - anything - that has been shaped and put together is part Weaver in its spirit. Most clothes are."

Christine retrieves her scuffed running shoes from their place near the doorway, and pulls from the inside of the toes the gray socks stuffed therein. "Why isn't it Weaver when Gaia shapes her trees and flowers?" asks the girl. The question doesn't have the ring of any serious philosophical interest; she's just making conversation while she balances on one foot in order to don socks and shoes.

"It /is/ Weaver," Yi emphasizes with a lifted finger, "but the balance of those are much more shifted towards the Wyld. Trees and flowers may look like they are solid forms, but they are ever changing. Growing, living things are being created. That is the Wyld. If it were truly, wholly of the Weaver, then it would be completely ordered, and never change, frozen in place. In the Umbra though, it is a little different. Things there may have shape, but they can be purely of some kind of essence." She scratches her head lightly again. "But, let us not complicate it too much."

"Cool," says Christine, and the offhand curtness of her reply seems almost to rebuff the elaborate effort Yi has invested in her explanation. She scratches her chin and looks at Squeaks as though she had momentarily forgotten her purpose. Then it's back to her seat. "Let's get this show on the road."

Yi nods, not discouraged by the short replies. "This rite needs, at its minimum, yourself and the item to dedicate. But, there are things you could do that can help your chances of success. One, it is harder to ask a spirit whose character is very different from yours, to join with you. Or, a spirit who is very strong on its own. Clothing does not have much by way of spirit, but if you add all of them up, their combination can be very hard on you. Same with something like, oh, a gun. The more things you want to dedicate, the harder it will be."

"How much?" Christine wants to know. "How much can I dedicate?"

Yi shrugs in honesty. "That I do not know. It depends on how strong your spirit is. Do you find it hard to reach across the Gauntlet? Do you feel uncomfortable in the Umbra? Not, I mean, by lack of experience in it, but a sense inside that tells you, 'I am not fully here'."

Christine gives the question a more serious treatment than is usual for her. "No," she says. "Crossing is super easy." She gives a fingersnap. "After that is when I have problems, but I think it's my own hang-ups."

Yi nods a couple more times. "Not so many homid-born are fortunate to be so... 'one with Gaia'. That is what our Gnosis represents, and what a spirit would be attracted to at times, depending on the spirit. If you manage to cross over quickly, and can do so not from luck, then as my teachers would have said, your spirit is rather strong. It would only take some practice, and comforting your mind and will from your fear of the strange things that go on in the Shadow, and you would be great. This is good, too, because it means what you dedicate to yourself will be... mm, more willing to."

"I don't know about that," says Christine. That old dislike of pomp and circumstance is surfacing in her expression--in the downward twist of her mouth, the tightening of the muscles in her cheeks. "So what /first/?" she prompts, suddenly impatient.

Yi shrugs again. "Start with what you feel is right. Some can go shirt to shoes, head to toe. Others can go the other way. Still more want one by one, in what order they want. They are /your/ clothes, though, and that is what counts. Make them your own. The rite itself is to bring the spirit of those clothes to you, and to combine them with your spirit." She goes on to explain some detail, some reiteration of the past performance put in. The reason of the calls to the elements and cardinal directions as an anchor for the spirits, and the prayers said in Garou tongue by tradition, entreating the spirits of the clothes to wake up and bind to the strong spirit of the Garou ritemaster. All in all, she adds, the rite will feel like it has succeeded when there is a certain 'sense'. Often a warmth, but sometimes undetectable until one actually shifts.

Back | Next | 2006 Logs | Main