Hershey Meets the Sept

[hazlogs]

[Date: 6/24/97]

Karl rolls up the maps and tucks them away. "If that's everything."
Elan looks to his packmate, and nods. "OK...Here's the annotated maps, for our 
  run." He hands copies to Karl.
Karl takes them with a nod of thanks.
Hank nods back to Elan, then glances at Karl. "There anything else you need 
  done?"
Ed leans against one of the walls, eyes resting on Karl.
Karl shakes his head. "That's all for now," he rasps. "Again, well done." He 
  turns and exits the building.
Karl opens one of the double doors at the back of the church, leaving for the 
  streets.
Karl has left.
Ed chuckles softly after Karl leaves.
Hershey turns her head to watch Karl leave. "Wow. Who's the drill sargeant?"
Ed chuckles. "That was Karl. Get Adren. He's one of the 'all work and no play' 
  types. But he's good at his job."
Hank nods, grinning at Ed.
Hershey smirks. "Like I said. Drill sargeant."
Elan rolls up his stuff. "Well, I 'm gonna go out to the woods and looks for 
  Brian. Anyone wanna come?"
Hershey jumps to her feet. "I'll go. Wanna meet the guy."
Elan hmms. "Have you presented yourself to the sept?"
Hershey pushes up her glasses. "Haven't had the chance yet."
Elan nods. "Well, we can take care of that, too. Come with me, and I'll take 
  you to a place to howl your intro. Anyone in the compound should hear it. 
  Then, I'll take this stuff up to Brian."
Hershey scratches at her arm. "Hokay."
Elan nods. "Well, come on, then." He trots up the church stairs, eager to be 
  on his way.
Hershey jogs after the other Gnawer.

[Train Tracks, in the woods]

Elan steps out of the treeline to the north.
Elan has arrived.
Elan looks around. "Looks good to me. Let'er rip."
Hershey glances around, blinking a bit. "Uh. What should I say?"
Elan smiles. "Just somerthing like 'A newcomer seeks to come to the Caern of 
  the Wheel Renewed. Or something like that."
Hershey shrugs. "Okay." And she shifts upwards to get a really good howl; the 
  shift to Crinos takes but an instant.
Hershey contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
You shift into Crinos form.
Hershey howls long and loud.

From Train Tracks, Hershey can be heard to howl, ~Hey! This here's Hershey 
  Kisses, Halfmoon of the freakin' Bone Gnawers! Uh, greetings!~

Hershey(#3947Pceq)
About eight and a half feet tall, Hershey appears to be more dog than wolf, 
  and compared to others of her kind, this young Garou is rather unimpressive. 
  Her muddied bloodline displays a lot of wolfhound, but there's a number of 
  other breeds evident as well, including setter and husky and perhaps a touch 
  of hound. Her slouching figure is somewhat gangly with its apelike arms and 
  digitigrade legs, and though she's as healthy as can be expected, she 
  doesn't have quite enough mass for her size, and thus appears to be somewhat 
  bony and underfed.
Hershey's thick fur is a tangled, grizzled mixture of iron gray and Irish 
  setter red, lighter on belly than back and with an irregular black splotch 
  sprawling across the right side of her blocky, whiskery muzzle. Long-furred 
  ears drape down on either side of her canine head, and chocolate-brown eyes 
  peer nearsightedly out from underneath bushy 'eyebrows'. Her plumed tail has 
  a slight curl to it and a white spot at the tip. A battered photographer's 
  vest hangs open on the Bone Gnawer's ribsy torso, the multiple pockets 
  bulging with assorted junk, and her matted, unwashed fur looks ripe for 
  fleas. 

Hershey lowers her muzzle and scratches at her throat. ~Or something like 
  that, I guess.~ She shrugs.
You shift into Homid form.
Hershey scratches at her greasy hair and looks at the other Gnawer. "Now what?"
Elan smiles. "We wait."
Hershey wrinkles her nose. "How long?"
[Elan leaves]
Cassandra steps out of the treeline to the north.
Cassandra has arrived.
Hershey paces slightly, but doesn't go far from the immediate area. The Gnawer 
  is swearing in a fluent NYC accent.
Cassandra appears out of the brush, in homid. She looks faintly pale and very 
  unhappy. "Yo," she asks quietly. "Ya howled?"

[Cassandra]
     Not quite so somber as she once was, this young woman still carries a 
  somewhat brooding and cynical air about her. Dusky skin and an unruly mop of 
  ebon curls mark her as possibly being of Greek or Middle Eastern descent. 
  Her large, dark-brown eyes are sharp and watchful, set into a wide-featured 
  face. Though her sturdy frame and broad, muscular shoulders mark her as no 
  stranger to rough play, her walk nonetheless carries the barest hint of 
  unfamiliarity with her right side, invisible to most.
     Her clothing is a curious cross of woodsy and inner city styles: a 
  wine-dark T-shirt tucked into black jeans, with a white and red plaid 
  flannel shirt overtop. The jeans appear to have been altered -- the right 
  leg has been slit from hip to ankle, then hemmed back and laced together 
  with black cords to show a hint of dark skin beneath. Over all this is a 
  leather biker jacket, complete with zippers and chains and the works. The 
  outfit is finished off with a pair of black sneakers, with no obvious 
  jewelry.

Hershey turns, squinting through her glasses. "Yeah. Elan dragged me out here, 
  then vanished on me."
Cassandra blinks at the name. "Oh, him. Hershey? Cass, Black Furyno-moon, 
  child of Uktena and for some reason Guardian of the Sept of the Wheel 
  Renewed. Where'd ya come from?"
Hershey scratches at her arm and rattles off, "Hershey Kisses, Bone Gnawer 
  Halfmoon, born at the Sept of the Green, daughter of Rosie Ginsu-Claws, 
  member of the Streetsharks guardian pack."
Hershey pauses. "Er. Mom is. Not me."
Cassandra nods. "How'd you end up on this side of the world?"
Hershey shrugs. "Mom said the tribe needed Philodexes. Philodoxen? Judges, 
  whatever."
Cassandra shrugs right back,running a hand through her hair. "Um. Damn. Yeah, 
  we do, but before I letcha in, I gotta find one."
Hershey slaps at a mosquito. "Oh. Uh, okay."
Cassandra rus at her face, as if fighting something, then opens her eyes and 
  studies the Gnawer for a moment.
Hershey fidgets a bit, pushing the glasses back up her nose.
Elan steps out of the treeline to the north.
Elan has arrived.
Elan pushes branches out of the way, and pushes his hair from his eyes. "Got 
  lost, Hersh. I think -- Oh, somebody found you. Good."
Hershey turns toward Elan. "Freakin'-- /there/ you are! What the hell happened 
  to you?"
Cassandra runs another hand through her hair, relaxing a bit and looking 
  satisfied. She leans against a tree. "Cool," she mutters to herself, and 
  looks up as Elan merges from the brush. "You know anybody who c'n tell when 
  somebody's speakin' truth?"
Elan grins sheepishly. "Went to run point for ya. Thought... well, didn't know 
  who'd be out here. Sorry, sis."
Hershey rolls her eyes a bit, then grins and punches Elan in the arm. Lightly.
Elan shakes his head at Cassandra. "Um, no. Last time I did this, we got Paul. 
  Um, Ellie knows it, and she's at the famrhouse. Wanna just trot back up 
  there?
Elan grins at the fellow Gnawer.
You say "A farm?"
Cassandra nods. "Fine, then. Let's head that way...yer friend's not gonna be 
  able to enter the Caern till we do."
Hershey shoves her hands into her jeans pockets. "Bitchin'. Let's go."
Elan nods. "Sure thing. That's why I brought her here. I'm thinking of 
  renaming myself 'Cub-Finder' or something, 'cause of all the new people I 
  keep tripping over."
Elan follows Cassandra.
Hershey snorts and punches Elan in the arm again. "Who you callin' a cub, 
  prettyboy?" She says, in mock-anger.
Elan chuckles. "Heh. Jimmy's the only other person ever called me that..." He 
  puches her back, in friendly sparring.
Hershey snickers, grabbing Elan by the elbow and hustling him along as the 
  trio heads farmhouse-wards.

[The Farmhouse front porch]

Glissa nods at Ellie. "We wanted to keep it well out of the side of the road. 
  Michael's from a family that likes their privacy." She looks a little 
  wistful, and takes one of the new moon cookies to nibble on, breaking off a 
  _small_ piece for Julie's eager hand.
Elan walks back in, a new person in tow. "Um, is Ellie..oh, there she is."
Hershey trails in after Elan, hands in pockets, strings of greasy hair hanging 
  in her face.

Hershey(#3947Pceq)
Hershey's a slacker, that much seems apparent. About five and a half feet 
  tall, she's a grimy teenager with an average build and a pronounced "Noo 
  Yawk" accent. Tangled waves of dark brown hair hang down just past her 
  shoulders in greasy dreadlocks, unstyled, unbrushed, and generally unwashed. 
  The face it frames is neither especially delicate nor especially square, the 
  ordinary face of a young woman with a rash of acne. Given a shower and some 
  good clothes, she might gradutate to pretty, but for now she's just plain, 
  at best. Chocolate-brown eyes, probably her best feature, gaze out upon the 
  world through Coke-bottle glasses, the thick black frames balancing on the 
  bridge of a smallish, roundish nose.
A black "Wayne's World" cap sits atop her head, the sides and bill decorated 
  with a motley assortment of badges, pins, and stickers. Hanging open over a 
  nearly threadbare yellow and grey flannel shirt is a battered photographer's 
  vest, its multiple pockets bulging with assorted junk. The sleeves of the 
  shirt have been hacked off at some point in the past, and the arms thus 
  bared are unevenly tanned and pimply. Grubby jeans and a derelict pair of 
  canvas high-top sneakers complete the outfit, such as it is. 

Jewel ducks back into the house, fleeing the crowded porch.
Jewel opens the front door with a creak, and walks through, closing the door 
  behind.
Jewel has left.
Mark looks curiously at Hershey as she climbs onto the porch.
Glissa looks at Elan and Hershey thoughtfully. "I don't really want to intrude 
  on your business," she notes softly. "I just thought I'd drop by, see how 
  everyone was doing. If Daniel or Stormcloud--" she blinks, flushes, and 
  speaks more quickly, as if she hadn't meant to drop the name-- "If Daniel 
  stops by, Mark, tell him thank you, for me. The spinach he planted is 
  growing nicely."
Elan smiles, leading Hershey. "Ah, and just the person we need to see, too. 
  Ellie, can we see you?"
Hershey spots the cookies, and her expression lights with interest, but 
  manners keep her from helping herself just yet. pushes her glasses up her 
  nose again and grins at Ellie.
Ellie grins at the pair of latest arrivals. "Sure, I guess. What's new?"
Glissa doesn't bat an eyelash at the rather odd flow of even odder people 
  wandering in and out of the farmhouse, although she seems to be growing a 
  bit shyer.
Elan nods his head to Hershey. "Got a new person, here, and Cassandra said it 
  we should bring her out here. I saw you when I ran in earlier, and thought 
  of you. We need a half-moon to do a little truth-tell on my tribemate here."
Mark looks curious at the request and examines the newcomer more closely.
Hershey smirks. "Yeah. Swear on the Bible an' shit." If the accent were any 
  thicker, one might not be able to understand her at all.
Glissa puts a hand to her mouth in startlement, brows arching. "Be _careful_, 
  lad," she chides Elan with sudden sharpness and faint bemusement. "I know 
  this is your people's place, but still. Strange lady on the front porch. I 
  was just thinking I'd better get going so you could, um...do what you do 
  without me hovering about."
Mark shakes his head and holds up a hand to Glissa. He motions towards the 
  front door and then looks at Elan and Hershey.
Elan nods to Glissa. "She's been in the city some a few days, and we checked 
  her for taint, and all that. I showed her where to go, and howl, an' 
  everything."
Hershey elbows Elan, not too subtly.
Elan suddenly realizes he has no idea at all who this woman is, and it shows 
  in his double-take, and slight smile.
Glissa chuckles at the young man's explanation and just shakes her head, 
  following Mark's invitation. "Nevermind. I'm touched; time was--according to 
  Michael, anyway--there'd be a bullet in my head by now. Strider kinfolk. 
  Good-day, all."
Brian remains indoors, still watching the concolation from a window.
Ellie helps Elan out. "And you wanted to turn to auntie El with her wisdom and 
  judge of character, huh? Cool -- let's, err, step into my office."
Ellie turns to Glissa and sort of shrugs, cheerily. She definitely happier 
  with this turn of events.
Elan chuckles. "Yeah, Ellie." He puts a hand on Hershey's shoulder, and guides 
  her after Ellie.
Hershey smirks and elbows Elan again in rough comraderie. On the way in, she 
  manages to snag a couple of cookies.

[Backyard]

Ellie says "So, Hersh -- what's he after?"
Ellie grins, and winks at Elan.
Elan looks innocent, and all.
Hershey smirks. "Don't ask, don't tell."
Elan gives his tribemate a short bark of laughter, then turns to Ellie. "Just 
  the usual questions, I guess?"
Hershey rubs at her nose, grime-nailed fingers absently prodding at a 
  prominant zit before her hand drops back into her pocket. "Aw. No 
  strip-search?"
Ellie says "Hi, I'm Ellie! D'you live round here? C'mon, man, Elan -- what 
  questions?"
You say "I think he means makin' sure I ain't gonna spraypaint the caern or 
  pave the bawn or nuthin'."
Ellie snickers. She muses, "Hmm, green never was my favorite color."
Hershey sniggers.
Elan chuckles. "Well, when I took Jencina in, Paul asked her this whole list a 
  stuff. I figured it was somethinfg they handed out, or sumthin'."
Ellie says "Mneh, you go there too much. You wanna just sneak in when there's 
  a Moot on and they're too busy. No one never asked me nuthin' -- altho' JJ 
  said some... some Shadow Lord gave her a hard time and threatened to rip her 
  a spare asshole."
Hershey shifts her weight a bit from one sneaker to the other. "Well, huh."
Elan blushes a bit. "That's how I came in. Just stumbled across a Moot in full 
  swing..."
Ellie says "Middle of a moot? Someone wants shootin' full o' silver..."
Elan nods. "Yep. Or, as the case turned out, my neck in Midnight Claws, um, 
  claws."
Hershey brushes back her hair. "Okay, check this out. Ellie, you got that 
  Truth gift, yeah?"
Ellie says "You bet, yeah."
Hershey shifts her weight a bit, then puts her hand on her heart, lifting the 
  other and making the girl scout salute. "I solemnly swear that I'm not gonna 
  spraypaint the caern, pave the bawn, or otherwise screw things up for the 
  Sept of the Wheel Renewed."
Ellie asks, "An' you respect the Litany and shit?"
Hershey nods. "Yep. An' I ain't ever fucked no other Garou, neither."
Elan listens, a smile on his face.
Hershey pauses for a moment, then shrugs. "Okay, so I ain't fucked anybody, 
  but who's counting?" She grins.
Ellie grins. "Cool... And that ain't nobody else's business." Turning to Elan 
  she says, "So -- what more upstandin' pillar of the community could anyone 
  ask for?"
Hershey turns the girl scout salute into a peace sign and shoves her hands 
  back into her pockets.
Elan gives a slight bow to Ellie. "None better." He shrugs. "But then, she's a 
  Gnawer, the very definition of cool. So I figgered she was OK."
Ellie cackles and lets Elan totally get away with that.
Hershey elbows Elan, amused. "Don' be rude. Ellie's pretty ice... for a Glass 
  Walker." She winks.
Elan oofs, and raise his shirt up, counting the purple and green bruises 
  Hershey has left him with. "Man, and I thought BJ was dangerous to hang 
  around with..."
Hershey smirks. "Gotta toughen ya up."
Elan chuckles, and nudges her back. "Well, been there, done that. Got the 
  T-Shirt to prove it..."
Hershey manages to stick out a finger and poke Elan in the ribs before he can 
  get his shirt down. Hey, maybe he's ticklish...
Ellie says "Maybe I should powerdress more... Feh. There ain't a gap you can 
  get a rzorblade in between your book-learnin' guys an' our Prims."
Elan proves he is ticklish, by falling to one side, and rolling up, laughing.
Victory! Hershey pounces on the Theurge and presses the attack, merciclessly.
Elan laughs, and howls, trying to roll up into a ball like a hedgehog. It's no 
  use, and soon, he's stretched out, panting and laughing so hard he's crying.
Ellie laughs loudly at all this, and moves to stand between Elan and the only 
  farmturd that looks close enough to be threatening.
Hershey grins evilly and pins Elan. "Submit, O spawn of jackals!" she says in 
  a mock-loftly tone. "Or I, Fela Shining-Dew-Fur-Falcon-Glory-Gaia-Rage, will 
  smite thee!"
Elan is helpless before such might, and quails at the terrible Name and 
  Lineage put out before him. Tears streaming down his face, he nods 
  vigorously. "Yes, yes! I submit, Elder, I submit!"
Hershey gets up, trying to hold the lofty, mock-Fang look. "Very well, then, 
  Gnawer-of-Bones. But hark! If thou besmircheth my ice cream again, I shall 
  show no mercy!" Then she spoils the effect by breaking into fits of giggles.
Elan laughs more, hugging the young woman as he gets unsteadily to his feet. 
  He lets the shirt lay where it falls, too ragged-out to bend over and get 
  it. He decides against standing, and sits rather heavily, still grinning 
  like a fool.