Music and Lupus Lessons

[hazlogs]

It is currently 15:10 Pacific Time on Tue May 27 1997.
Currently on this calm and warm spring midafternoon in the general St. Claire 
  area, it is 69 degrees Fahrenheit (20.6 degrees Celsius). The wind is coming 
  from the northeast at 3.4 mph. The ground is wet. Skies are clear with a 
  definite chance of precipitation.
Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous Moon phase (61% full).

Elan walks quietly into the compound, glancing around before going over to sit 
  on a stone near the fire.
Erik stands near the edge of the compound, his violin case open at his feet as 
  he plays. The notes of "Simple Gifts" weave their way through the air, the 
  melody uncomplicated but pure as fresh water or mountain air far from human 
  "civilization." Pure and simple, but sweetly expressive. The Fianna does not 
  notice Elan's approach.
Elan closes his eyes, and simply listens to the music, letting it wash over 
  him and relax him. He makes no sound, lest he disturb the skittish Metis.
Elan listens quietly to the music that Erik, off to one side of the compound, 
  is playing.
Dillan wanders down the path to the compound. He pauses just inside the loose 
  confines of the clearing, glancing around. "Hmm."
Erik continues to play, adding a slight variation to the melody of the piece, 
  shifting it into a different key so subtly that it takes one a moment to 
  realize the shift. He still notices nothing else but his music.
Elan glances up at a slight sound from the edge, and waves Dillan over, but 
  makes motion for him to be quiet.
Dillan looks *really* dubious. Like, we're talking pretty damn dubious. Lack 
  of anything beter to do wins out, thoguh, and he goes to stand over a few 
  feet from the Gnawer.
Elan looks over at Dillan, then bends closer.
Dillan narrows his eyes at Elan, as if the Gnawer were very clueless.
Elan simply seems amused.
Erik takes the song through another variation and plays through verse and 
  chorus before letting it ned in one last drawn-out note. With a slight sigh, 
  the Fianna lowers the violin.
Elan nods in appreciation, not wanting to disturb the mood.
Dillan nods, wide-eyed in mock surprise at something Elan's murmured his way.
Elan nods back to Dillan, and shrugs slightly.
Dillan snorts, unconvinced.
Erik turns slightly toward the sound of murmuring voices and freezes for a 
  brief instant at seeing the pair.

Dillan's Desc:
     Oddly enough, Dillan just doesn't look quite as arrogant or snotty 
  anymore. It's almost like he's a friendly guy. Well, sure, he's still got 
  that 'I'm cooler than the rest of the world combined' thing going but he's 
  just not as punky as he was before. He carries himself with a confident 
  pride, despite the sloppy posture, shoulders slouched.
     He looks to be about 17 or so, standing maybe 5'10", definitly highschool 
  age at any rate. A ballcap bearing an Orlando Magic logo tops his head, worn 
  backwards, covering his dusty dark blonde hair. His eyes are a grey-blue. A 
  pair of small earrings are embedded into his left earlobe, gold by the looks 
  of it.
     Matching his hat, he wears an Orlando Magic jacket, covering his midsized 
  frame. He wears a pair of light blue jeans, a thin chain looping through two 
  of the belt loops, jangling when he walks. A pair of Air Jordan Nike 
  high-tops grace his feet.

Elan nods in agreement to Dillan. He looks up at Erik, and gives him an 
  appreciative smile. "Don't mind us, man," he says softly.
"Uh, yeah," echoes Dillan. "S'cool."
Erik hesitates and then nods slightly. Turning a bit away, he lifts the violin 
  to his chin again and returns to his playing. If it's not Bach, it's 
  influenced by the baroque composer.

Elan's Desc:
A handsome, almost pretty youth 18-21yo, with smooth dark skin and soft hazel 
  eyes. He's lean and well defined, with a supple dancers body. He's 
  cleanshaven, but might have a day or so of soft stubble. His silky-soft 
  thick brown hair falls across his eyes in the front. One eyebrow has a white 
  line through it at an angle, a slight scar that somehow only makes him more 
  attractive.
Elan celebrates spring by wearing loose, pieced-together street clothes. 
  Leather and denim prevail, with plenty of extra pockets and small tokens of 
  stones or feathers. A steel necklace loops twice around his neck and glints 
  against his dark skin, an arrowhead-shaped bit of clear red stone hangs from 
  it. A small steel earring composed of two interlinked rings with arrows 
  shines on his right ear. He carries a medium sized black and tan pack, 
  filled with things he needs.

Elan looks back over to Dillan. "Just sort of close your eyes and concentrate 
  on the music itself. Fill in lyrics if you need to, but just follow the 
  complexity and theme."
Dillan um. He lifts a brow. He glances from Erik to Elan, and shrugs. He 
  doesn't look like he's trying too hard to listen, though.
Erik, after a few moments, seems to have blocked out the fact of the pair's 
  presence. Absorbed in the music, he notices nothing else.
Elan looks at Dillan and gives a slight smile. "Erik is one of the best 
  violinists I've ever heard, so listen. Sorta compare it to more complex rap 
  or reggae. You can hear the same patches of rhythm."
Dillan loks, quite certainly, like Elan's explanation went totally over his 
  head. "Like reggae?" He almost snickers.
Elan chuckles also. "OK, ok, maybe not like /reggae/.."
A note falters briefly as Erik gets distracted by the conversation, but the 
  error is soon corrected and gone.
"Probably not." affirms Dillan.
Elan smiles and nods at the Shadow Lord. "Yeh, you're right." He shrugs. "I 
  like celtic, ska, and everything inbetween."
Dillan shrugs. "Ska's okay."
Elan scratches his chin. "Who are your favorite artists?" He keeps his voice 
  low, to avoid bothering Erik. He's still listening to the Fianna, juggling 
  his attention between the two.
The violin notes speed up, the music whirling faster, bow and fingers moving 
  over the strings in a blur of virtuoso skill, a whirlwind of sound with all 
  the frantic panic of a stampede.
Dillan's got a list whipped off in no time. "LL Cool J, Ice-T, Geto Boyz, Sir 
  Mix-A-Lot... shit like that."
Elan nods at the list, ticking off artists on his fingers. "Yeah, yeah, yeah!, 
  don't like 'im,.." He nods. "Sounds like your CD box and mine might match a 
  bit."
Dillan lifts a brow. "You shittin'? Ain't no-one like the stuff I blast..."
  flowers, which attract a number of bees and butterflies.

[some missing]

Elan nods. "I've talked to Merin, and she's too busy, but I hadn't thought 
  about Ellie. You think she might?"
Dillan shrugs. "I dunno what she does, though. Apart from play with cellphones 
  way too much. I think she was maybe a radio DJ back in Chitown."
The violin music reaches a manic climax whose peak is one wailing, drawn-out, 
  impossibly high note.... and then crashes down in a violent ending phrase 
  and ends.
Elan scratches his chin. "Cool. I'l try and look her up."
Dillan glances over at Erik, surprised, a 'what the heck?' look implanted on 
  his face. "Uhm, yeah," he says, absently, to Elan.
Erik stands still in the comparative silence after the storm of playing, 
  breathing heavily as though he'd just finished a marathon.
Elan nods appreciatively at Erik's playing, and smiles. "Damn, that was good," 
  he says softly.
Michael pads out of the woods to the east. There's a small brown feather stuck 
  in his fur near his mouth.
Erik turns his head toward Elan, the violin and bow lowering. He shrugs 
  faintly and ducks his head in a slight, embarrassed bow.
Elan smiles at Erik, then looks over at wolfy Michael. "Hey, cubbie. Caught 
  some dinner, huh?"

Michael's Desc:
A young, lean wolf who is early in his adulthood, but still hasn't lost the 
  gangly look and overly large feet of an adolescent. His fur is dark brown 
  with a tinge of red, and his eyes a bluish green. Though he is quite steady 
  on his feet, he gives the appearance of being awkward, with bony joints 
  everywhere.

Michael contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Michael shifts into Homid form.
Michael blows lightly and the feather, hanging now from his upper lip, 
  flutters and drifts to the ground. He winks at Elan, then holds up his 
  hands, half an inch apart. "Missed him by that much," he says. He shrugs 
  with a grin. "Probably didn't taste any good anyway."
Erik shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Finally, he seems to decide 
  that practice is over, for he kneels to replace the violin carefully back 
  into its case, next to the bow.
Elan chuckles at the cub. "You getting the hang of wolf form, by now?"
A pair of soft clicks announce the closure of the violin case. Rising, Erik 
  slings the long strap across his body and moves closer to the others.
Michael nods. "I can hunt if I need to, but...well, I don't. I'll leave the 
  game for the wolves."
Blinks-at-Fire enters the compound.
Blinks-at-Fire has arrived.
Michael wrinkles his nose with exagerated distaste and says, "Frankly, they're 
  welcome to the squirrels if they want them."
Heart-of-Fury emerges from off the faint animal trail wending eastwards.
Heart-of-Fury has arrived.
Elan nods approvingly. "Good for you. They need it. I got some food in my 
  pack, if you need something."
Heart-of-Fury lopes easily into the compound, posture showing his eagerness, 
  as he heads for the Fianna cub. Michael, are you ready to leave?
Erik settles down near the others, sitting crosslegged on the ground, pulling 
  his violin case into his lap, silently. He does not look at Steven.
Blinks-at-Fire goes over to greet Dillan and Elan. He seems less than 
  ordinarily interested in the strangers present, or in the scents to be found 
  on the grass.
Michael says "No, I was just practicing." He makes extravagent 'sneaking' 
  motions. "You know. Sneak, sneak..." He turns and leaps at Heart-of-Fury, 
  arms raised in mock menace. "...pounce?"
Elan chuckles at Michael again, and then turns to Blinks to scritch him. 
  "Blinks! How are you doing? I've not seen you in a long time."

Blinks-at-Fire's Desc:
        Blinks' matted coat varies from dark gold to grey, but lacks spots, 
  stripes, or scars. He probably arrived at his full growth not so very long 
  ago. His grey eyes dart about the landscape -- the hungry, calculating, 
  slightly unsure eyes of a beta.
        The ready chuff, the enthusiasm that used to bristle just beneath the 
  surface and burst forth at the least provocation, are hidden somewhere 
  deeper. Perhaps Blinks found the maturity he was so often accused of 
  lacking. He certainly looks older.
        
Heart-of-Fury cocks his head to one side, tongue rolled out slightly. Very 
  nice, Michael. Come. He seems only too happy to ignore Erik as well, as his 
  attention stays focused on Michael. He turns eastward and trots off a bit, 
  before circling back. His ears flick forward, waiting, it seems a little 
  impatiently.
Blinks-at-Fire sits down and relaxes as Elan scratches. No, he agrees. This 
  one comes here seldom.
Michael stretches, then nods. "Okay, then. Off into the wild blue yonder?"
Michael contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Michael shifts into Lupus form.
Blinks-at-Fire watches as the two lupus ready to depart.
Heart-of-Fury whuffs a light affirmative to the Galliard cub and points his 
  muzzle towards the eastern mountains. There. That is where we go. He starts 
  to head for the treeline at the eastern edge of the compound.
Michael trots obediently in Heart-of-Fury's wake, with so placid a demeanor 
  that it practically begs for suspicion.
Heart-of-Fury leaves the compound.
Heart-of-Fury has left.
Michael leaves the compound.
Michael has left.
"Yo!" Shouts Dillan, spotting Blinks. "Gee, I gotta hook you up." He wanders 
  to the lupe. "'member how you taught me all that foresty stuff?"
Blinks-at-Fire answers, after a pause, Yes...?
Elan skritches Blinks a bit more.
Erik tilts his head, his attention shifting between Blinks and Dillan.
Dillan crouches down, grinning. "Well, I owe ya. So I'm gonna invite you 
  along. Blackwind asked me to show her the ropes, and I figure some day you 
  might need to know how to keep your ass outta trouble cityside. You in?"
Blinks-at-Fire watches Dillan until he realizes the Shadow Lord is done 
  speaking and expects some kind of answer. He looks to Elan for help.
Elan chuckles and sckritches Blinks. "I think he wants to know if you would 
  want to learn the ways of the scab."
Blinks-at-Fire looks back at Dillan, and gives a slight wag to his tail. Yes, 
  he answers, hesitantly.
After a few moments, Blinks-at-Fire says, firmly, Yes. This one thanks you, 
  Sleek Black.
Elan gives Blinks a hearty 'atta boy' pat. "Good for you. Maybe some of the 
  other lupes will take him up on his offer."
Erik is still and silent but for a vague, twitching movement of thin fingers.
Blinks-at-Fire settles back down, trying to enjoy the scritch and perhaps to 
  not think about what he's just gotten himself into.
Elan looks down at Blinks. "Hey, you'll be OK, Blinks. I think Dillan will be 
  a good teacher. He knows the place almost as well as the Gnawers." He gives 
  a chuckle at this.
Blinks-at-Fire wags his tail once. Of course.
Dillan beams at the praise and nods to Blinks. "No problem. I'm gonna drag MC 
  mack-daddy Stormy C along, to. Gee could use some help."
Blinks-at-Fire looks back to Dillan. Stormcloud? he guesses.
Elan blinks at Dillan. "Just don't offer him any beer, and he'll be fine."
Dillan nods. "Hey, quick." He snickers. "Shit, you heard 'bout stormy gettin' 
  blasted?"
Elan looks at Dillan. "Um, when?"
Blinks-at-Fire's ears go up in alarm. Stormcloud is hurt?
Dillan says "Ages ago. I laughed my ass off. Then' course, I had to apologize 
  to the spirits for him collapsing drunk at the table stone."
Elan smiles. "Hank and I tried to bring him into the scab, in repayment for 
  helping Shakes and I learn woodsy ways. It went...oddly." He chuckles at the 
  memory.
Dillan says "Y'obviously did it wrong. Heck, I even taught holmes how to talk."
Erik reaches under his mask and rubs the back of his neck, listening curiously.
Blinks-at-Fire asks Elan, Is that -- he turns his nose towards Dillan -- how 
  they speak in the city?
Blinks-at-Fire sighs. Much to learn.
Elan nods to Blinks. "Yes. It is called 'slang'. A special kind of speech, 
  mostly used by city people."
Blinks-at-Fire will try to learn it, then.
Dillan grins. "Damn straight. You gotta talk with confidence in the city, or 
  peopel will think you're a dumbass yokel or tourist or something. Can't get 
  anything done that way."
Elan nods at Dillan, then to Blinks. "He's right. People might try to take 
  advantage of you." He scratches his chin. "Could I see your human form?"
Blinks-at-Fire looks away almost shyly, but obliges Elan.
Blinks-at-Fire contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Blinks-at-Fire shifts into Homid form.
Blinks shifts into a young man, still crouched over where moments ago the wolf 
  was sitting.
Elan nods. "Yeah, give you a shave and you'd fit in just fine. It's good you 
  have some Dedicated clothes."

Blinks's Desc:
        Instead of sauntering like a young man should, Blinks crouches a bit 
  and occasionally looks down nervously. Either he has some Eastern blood, or 
  he is very tan. He looks lost inside clothes made for a larger man. His 
  faded brown flannel shirt is stained with pitch, and the sleeves hang over 
  his palms. His baggy blue jeans are about two sizes too large, and rolled up 
  above bare feet. Greasy, tangled black hair hangs over his shoulders and in 
  his eyes. If he were a close friend, or you were much ruder than you are, 
  you might advise him to wash his clothes and take a bath, and shave off that 
  crazy ragged beard.
        
Dillan groans. "Blinks... first part of Dillan's lessons... you gotta hit the 
  farmhouse, grab some clean digs, and wash up. 'nother thing, you gotta have 
  a human name... you'll stick out like a sore thumb if city garou call you 
  'Blinks-at-Fire' in public."
Blinks asks, "Clean digs?"
Blinks turns back to glance at Elan expectantly.
Dillan tries not to sound condescending. "You're gonna get hauled away by the 
  cops for being a vagrant or something. You need clean clothes, gee."
Elan nods to Blinks. "You need to wash those clothes, Blinks. And teach you 
  how to take a shower and all that, if you don't already know how."
Blinks tells Elan, "You stopped scratching."
Blinks adds, after reflection, "Gee damn."
Elan blinks, and chuckles. "That's another thing. You really would not, um, 
  scratch another person in public. You'd do something like shake hands."
Wears-the-Blue enters the compound.
Wears-the-Blue has arrived.
John enters the compound.
John has arrived.
Blinks frowns at the news about not scratching people.
Wears-the-Blue walks in from the woods, his mouth open wide as he pants. As he 
  gets closer to the fire, he ungracefully flops to the ground. Hi.
Elan nods to Blinks. "You ever shake hands?"
Dillan sighs a bit. "Yeah. shake hands, or high-5, or somethin' like that, 
  'member, humans aren't anything like our wolf-brothers."
Erik tenses slightly as new people arrive, and then relaxes. Or at least grows 
  as untense as he usually gets.
Blinks thrusts an arm out stiffly toward Dillan, in something between a 
  handshake and a Nazi salute.
John wanders down the trail, waving to the others as he enters the clearing, 
  then moves toward the fire to sit down.
Dillan waves his arms and pushes Blinks' hand away. "No no no. What the hell 
  wassat? GEe, slow down. You ever seen me all stiff like that?" It's a 
  serious question the Shadow Lord asks.
Elan waves John over, then turns to Blinks. "Here, watch me and John." He 
  turns back to John. "John, come over here and shake my hand..."
John heads over to Elan, one hand extended in a relaxed manner.
Elan shakes John's hand, making sure Blinks see how this is done. He repeats 
  this a couple of times, then extends his hand to Blinks.
Blinks puts his hand out slowly and carefully, and grasps Elan's. Then he 
  raises and lowers their hands straight vertically.
Elan corrects Blinks' handshake gradually, getting him to relax more. "Here, 
  try it this way.."
Wears-the-Blue, having taken a breather, gains his paws again. With a friendly 
  wave of his tail, he disappears again into the woods.
Wears-the-Blue leaves the compound.
Wears-the-Blue has left.
Blinks licks his lips, concentrating, as he tries to be more relaxed. He 
  shakes Elan's hand some more.
Elan nods slowly. "Yeah, that's more like it. Grip the hand firmly, but not 
  too firmly. Just like that last time." He looks around. "How does he look? 
  Natural?"
Blinks smiles broadly, and shakes Elan's hand (which must be seasick by now) 
  harder.
John leans back against a tree, nodding slightly. "Yeah, looks like he's 
  getting it."
Dillan grins. "'course. Blinks is a bright kid." He flashes the lupe a 
  thumbs-up.
Elan nods to the others and smiles at Blinks. "We can practive this again, but 
  it seems like you've got it." He looks over to Dillan. "What else, man?"
Blinks gives Dillan a thumbs-up. "Damn straight."
Elan looks pleased. "You got it."
Dillan chuckles. "Uh, for now? Well, dunno. I'd rather get everyone who's 
  goin' all together at once. For now, just kinda practice lookin' chill." He 
  checks his watch, "And I'm due to hook up with Merin in a bit." He waves to 
  the garou present, "Later, homecrew."
Elan looks over to Erik. "How do you think he's doing?"
Erik glances at Elan. "Erm. Well I, ah, guess."
Elan quirks a smile at Erik. "You think so? Cool." He turns back to Blinks. 
  "OK, let's see you walk."
Blinks stands up. "I can walk," he says. "I can run. I am not so new to the 
  form."
Blinks points to a large tree. "I can climb!"
Blinks rubs his head, remembering.
Elan smiles. "I didn't say you weren't. But in the city, the /way/ you walk is 
  important." To demonstrate, Elan walks from one end of the compound to the 
  other, pointing out how he holds his hands, the way he steps and so forth.
Blinks studies Elan. "Is that the walk of an alpha, or the walk of an omega?"
Elan chuckles. "Neither. I'm Beta when Hank is not around, so I guess you 
  could say it's Beta. But you want people to /think/ you're Alpha."
Blinks shakes his head. "What if you are not?"
From afar, to Erik, Elan, and Blinks, John returns.
Blinks adds, "What if you are with the Alpha?"
Elan shrugs. "Remember something. Very few humans have ever /seen/ a wolf. 
  They know nothing about the more rigid pack structure we have." He 
  considers. "If you are with Brian, you might wanna walk like a beta, then."
Blinks watches, to see how that might be.
Elan walks again, demonstrating.
Blinks looks around self-consciously, then tries the beta walk.
Blinks smiles. "I like the alpha walk better."
Elan watches him critically, following him. "He chuckles. You can do that, 
  too. Try it."
Blinks tries the alpha walk again, strutting.
John grins, watching Blinks.
Elan claps his hands and smiles. "You did good. Now, to get you some clothes 
  and stuff, and get you cleaned up. You wanna go to the farmhouse?"
Blinks struts over to Elan. "I cannot go to the farmhouse, Elan daddy-mack," 
  he says. "Later. Homecrew."
Blinks offers Elan his hand again. "Thanks. Gee."
Blinks contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Blinks shifts into Lupus form.
Blinks-at-Fire gives Elan and John a whuff, and Erik a puzzled look, then 
  heads for home.
John waves to Blinks. "See you later."
Elan blinks at Blinks, then shrugs at John and Erik. In a phoney English voice 
  he says 'By Jove, I think he's /got/ it."
Blinks-at-Fire leaves the compound.
Blinks-at-Fire has left.