hazlogs: Glass Walker Glyph (Glass Walker)
[personal profile] hazlogs

7/19/02

Currently in Saint Claire, it is partly sunny. The temperature is 73
degrees Fahrenheit (22 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in
from the northwest at 5 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.10 and
rising, and the relative humidity is 53 percent. The dewpoint is 55
degrees Fahrenheit (12 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous Moon phase (66% full).

Location: Jeremy's Apartment

Quentin is settled in on the couch, in some baggy sweats way too big for
him, looking a little more relaxed than last night as he talks with Kaz.
"So.. uh. Like gangs and their turf, and stuff?" A pause, then, and he
asks warily, "..could I have a donut now?"

There's a quick, businesslike double-rap on Jeremy's door.

Kaz says, "I lost track of the bag," a little vaguely. She cranes down,
from her perch on the couch, to look under it, and, in fact, finds the
bag. She hands it up. "An' yeah, it's like gangs an' their turf, but think
of wolves claiming territory, too."

"Got it." Jeremy murmurs as he turns and makes his way to the door,
flashing a look at the monitor. He unlocks it, opens up the door and steps
to the side.

Quentin shifts over, reaching to grab the bag of donuts and leaning back
again-- reaching in to dig one out as he nods a little towards Kaz, just
blinking a little as he tries to process everything. At the knock at the
door, he looks over warily, "Who's that?"

"Good evening, Jeremy," greets Salem, all unruffled courtesy, as he
enters. His gaze sweeps over the other two. "Quentin, Kaz." He pauses to
study the Bone Gnawer quizzically. "I thought you were off to New York
with Lyra."

Kaz says, "I came back." There's a pause. "I'm going to get her again in a
week or so." There's another pause. "It..." She swallows, back tightening,
tone terse. "It is not a good idea to leave my pack alone while we are all
grieving." Why yes, that is a Far More Formal Kaz, why do you ask?

Jeremy nods his head and shuts it behind him, latching up the locks.

Quentin's jaw clenches as his question is answered, the bag of donuts
dropped back to one side on the couch as he shifts unconsciously further
into its corner. A quick, curt nod towards Salem, but nothing more.

Salem studies Kaz a moment more before nodding. "Understandable," he says,
and then shifts his gaze back to the cub. "And you, Quentin? How are you
settling in?"

Kaz says, now that she's not talking about people dying, "Been telling him
some shit. Litany, an' stuff."

"Well, aside from the kidnapping, torture, and the systematic erasure of
my existance through the magic computer," Quentin says rather dryly,
glaring back at Salem from his corner, "..just fine."

Kaz sighs. "Could you not antagonize him, dude? I mean, talk about your
not-useful reactions."

Murmuring, Jeremy says. "I um... erased him this morning." He explains to
Salem.

Salem's jaw clenches slightly at Quentin's answer, but otherwise the
Philodox remains unruffled. "It's all right, Kaz. A certain amount of
resentment is often to be expected." He steps over and settles into the
other couch, leaning back, perfectly smooth and deliberate. "And thank
you, Jeremy."

Quentin shakes his head just a bit, though at least he doesn't say
anything more-- he just drops quiet again, rising one knee against his
chest and curling an arm about it.

Kaz watches the cub carefully for a moment, then asks Salem, "You mind if
I keep spurting Litany, or'd you wanna do it?"

"No problem. I was bored and felt I'd get it over with." Jeremy slides
into his leather seat again, like liquid, then once more goes about
nursing his keyboard.

Salem steeples his fingers and nods to the Galliard. "Certainly. Please
continue." He seems to settle in, stretching out his legs and crossing
them at the ankles, a facade of relaxation. He watches the cub.

Kaz says, "Sure thing," with a faint smile towards Salem. "F'this next
one, you gotta understand that we determine leadership, an' often settle
disputes, by ritual Challenge. A challenge don't /gotta/ be a fight, and
often is as simple as starin' the other person down, but it /can/ be a
fight. So. You got this one. 'Accept an Honorable Surrender.'"

Quentin tears his wary gaze away from Salem, then, to look up towards Kaz
as she continues talking.. and he blinks a little at what she says, his
brow furrowing. "Why?" A pause, "..I mean, how's a fight or contest or
something determine who's best to lead? Or who's right?"

Kaz says, "Well. Think about it. If we're a martial people, an' if we need
someone who's good at fightin', or thinkin' on their feet well... why
/shouldn't/ that be a good determinant of who can lead?"

Quentin chews on his lower lip for a moment, fingers drumming a bit
nervously against his kneecap. "I.. guess so. Just seems a little.."

Kaz suggests, "Simple?"

Salem arches a brow. He continues to observe Quentin, almost passionless
in his study of the cub.

"Get away, get away, yer' my get away. Baby I wanna break out." A female's
voice lightly sings over the surround sound speakers of the computer as
streaming audio plays at Jeremy's command. It has a high technoy beat to
it. Volume turned down respectably.

Quentin shrugs one shoulder, glancing back up towards Kaz once more,
"..yeah, I guess. I mean.. what if you're a total idiot but you're good at
beating the crap out of everyone? What then?"

Kaz says, "Well. If he's that dumb? Then you manipulate him into
challengin' /you/, then /you/ get to pick the form of challenge. Which,
you know. Have it be a riddle game or somethin'."

Quentin chews his lip again for a moment, then nods a little. "I guess I
should have read that 'Prince' book when I had the chance."

Kaz says, "Still can. Salem sits aroun' readin' a lot. Me, I mostly deal
with music, but there ain't no point in not educatin' yourself even while
you're figurin' fuzzy stuff out."

Salem notes, rather dourly, "But there are better examples to follow than
Machiavelli's."

Quentin slants a suspicious look back over towards Salem as he enters into
the conversation, "..like whose?"

Salem meets Quentin's gaze directly, his expression bland. "We're here to
fight a war, not engage in endless plots, politicking, or backstabbing.
The truth of the matter is that anyone who can fight but not lead will not
last long as an alpha. Simply put, no one will follow him. But if you _do_
find yourself in a physical confrontation with another Garou and find that
you cannot win, you can surrender without losing face, and the other must,
_must_ accept your surrender gracefully."

Kaz mutters, "Didn't answer the question."

Quentin furrows his brow slightly as he listens to Salem, holding his gaze
as well as he can before shaking his head a bit. "Why even bother with the
challenges and leadership and all, though, if you can just.. not follow
someone who can't lead, like you said?"

Kaz says, "Because... honestly, you can kinda slack off from followin'
someone, but it don't work forever. /Eventually/, somethin' gotta be done
about 'em. An' that somethin' is, in almost all cases, /some/ kind of
challenge."

Aiyana emerges from the bedroom, clad in a tank top and pair of
sweatpants, her eyes squinted and a look of total non-coherence on her
face. She slowly makes her way towards the living room. Sure, she hears
voices, but as far as she can comprehend right now, it's probably just the
TV.

Salem shoots a look over to Kaz, irritated, then turns back to Quentin.
"And as far as examples to follow, look to the elders of your tribe, those
who aren't cubs like yourself." He glances at Jeremy. "Has he met any of
the others yet?"

Jeremy pauses in his typing to give his wrists a few twists, popping
joints and tendons into place. He peers over his shoulder to the three for
a moment, then goes back to the screen, flickering images bouncing off his
glasses.

".. Um... No. You.. Kaz.. Aiyana. We've had no visitors today." Jeremy
says softly, spinning himself about in the chair to face them.

Quentin shakes his head slightly, in acknowledgement of Jeremy's words..
and he glances to Kaz, then back again with a slight frown. "Elders?"

Kaz fills in, "Folks that outrank you, which is anyone, basically, at this
stage in the game."

Aiyana stops as she hears her name, rubbing her eyes to clear them. Oh,
why look. There's people here! Giving a quick wave she continues on her
way towards the kitchen, nudging Jer as she walks past.

Kaz waves cheerfully at her own cub. "Yo."

Salem glances up, his eye following Aiyana for a second or two, and then
he turns his attention back to Quentin.

Quentin glances over with a slight nod towards Aiyana as she passes
through the room, before returning his gaze to Salem warily. "Alright. I
dunno. Still seems like a flawed system, but, not mine to question I
guess."

Jeremy smiles and turns follows Aiyana with his eyes, grinning crookedly
to himself. Well, least Kaz now figured out who his new room mate is.

Kaz doesn't even seem to blink an eye at the concept, really. "So, yeah.
Want the next one?"

Aiyana gives Kaz a brief salute and smiles a little in her sleep-fogged
mind. She stops a couple inches in front of the fridge, almost walking
into it, before she remembers how to open the door. "...mrf."

One corner of Salem's mouth threatens to quirk upward.

Quentin keeps watching Salem as though he were keeping an eye on a
dangerous animal, before commenting quietly to Kaz, "..sure, what is it?"

Kaz says, "Awright. This one... The word 'submission' don't mean you gotta
lick someone's boots. It just means you gotta respect people, make it
clear you're respectin' 'em. An' there's another law that makes them
respect you, to an extent. Also: one thing some folks don' get right off
the mark is that lookin' someone directly in the eye can be a challenge to
their authority. So don' do it too much. Anyway. So. 'Submission to Those
of Higher Station.'"

Aiyana grabs a glass and pours herself some milk, taking a drink before
blinking a few times. "...so what's goin' on?"

"So.." Quentin frowns, trying to get a handle on all this as he looks up
to where Kaz is settled and asks, "..it's a whole heirarchal thing?"

"Litany teaching." Jeremy explains over to Aiyana as he stands up, heading
over to her with a grin on her face. "I also got some work done. You sleep
in too late by the way."

Kaz tells Aiyana, "Teachin' up the wazoo," and then nods at Quentin. "Like
I say, I'm Fostern. I head up my tribe. Salem there's a cliath, rank 1.
He's..." She glances at him thoughtfully. "I'd say he's John's second in
command, actually. I used t'be an Omega, low woman on the Totem pole,
'cause I'm metis. That kinda stuff, y'know? Wolves is all into dominance
in pack structure, it's like that."

Salem neither affirms nor denies Kaz's assessment of his place in the
tribal heirarchy; he's lapsed back into a listening, observant silence,
Quentin continuing to get almost all of his attention.

Aiyana ohs and nods. "Cool. Might as well listen myself. Never hurts to
get a refresher course." She glances over and smiles to Jer. "Work? Cool.
And I do not. You just get up too early."

"Okay.." Quentin chews a bit on his lower lip again, considering it for a
few moments, "So.. okay. John?" Both eyebrows lift, before he looks back
over to Salem as though expecting him to answer-- though before anyone
can, he guesses, "Is that the person at the head of my, um, tribe?"

Jeremy grins and nudges Aiyana in the shoulder, then slips past her into
the kitchen.

Kaz nods. "Yep. Big Heap Kahuna, generally known as Elder."

"John Smith," Salem elaborates. "Yes."

Quentin nods again, curling his arm around his knee once more and looking
back over towards Kaz expectantly-- he seems at least somewhat relaxed,
now, or at least he doesn't seem worried that someone's about to hurt him
somehow. He reaches over to grab a donut at last, asking, "So.. what
else?"

Aiyana grunts and finishes off her glass of milk, leaning against the wall
to listen to Kaz speak.

Kaz says, "Awright. S'th'next one is, 'The First Share of the Kill for the
Greatest in Station.' Which basically just means, when you whap somethin'
to eat it, or you find a drug deal gone Wyrmy an' get the cash, or
whatever, th' boss gets the bigger share. If he's a /good/ leader, he
makes sure everyone else has enough before he takes /too/ much, though,
an'... well, the ones as don't, they get challenged sooner rather than
later."

"You mean there's somewhere the boss doesn't get all the good stuff?"
Quentin smirks just a bit at that, observing quietly, "Sounds pretty much
like life to me. Nothing weird there."

Kaz says, "Yeah, well, here it's formalized. So. Next one, I don' think
you're gonna have no problem with. It has... a long story behind it I can
tell you another time. 'Ye Shall Not Eat the Flesh of Humans.'"

Quentin's nose wrinkles up a bit at that particular rule, his expression
both startled and disgusted. "Um. Sure. No argument."

Kaz says, amused, "Figured. Anyways. Next one's the one I mentioned
earlier. 'Respect for Those Below Ye in Station -- All Are of Gaia.'"

Aiyana chuckles at Quentin's reaction.

Quentin nibbles on the frosting of the donut as he listens, nodding just a
bit towards her. "So.. don't treat the people under you like shit.
Basically."

Salem says, dryly, "Basically, yes."

Kaz says, "Basically, yes. Though," she adds, glancing sidelong at Salem,
almost amused, "Some people have a different definition of what treating
people like shit is."

Jeremy heads back out into the living room with a slice of pizza on a
paper plate, and a coke in his hand. He murmurs something along the lines
of 'more back there if you want.'

Salem, still in that deliberately-relaxed pose on the couch with his
fingers steepled, arches a brow at Kaz.

Quentin slants a look back over to Salem, more than a bit sullen as he
chooses - probably wisely - to just not say anything on the matter.

Aiyana shakes her head and walks into the kitchen to put her glass in the
sink, then steps back out to reclaim her spot leaning against the wall.

Kaz looks innocent. She holds that for a beat, then goes on, "Right. Next.
'The Veil Shall Not Be Lifted,' which basically just means, we don't tell
no one that don't already know about us no shit about us, period. This is
helped by the fact that most people are so scared of Crinos they shit
their pants and forget about it."

Salem adds, "But some remember. So, no overt supernatural activity in
public. Especially no shapeshifting."

Quentin's brow furrows again as he looks between Salem and Kaz. "Forget
about it? How the hell could /anyone/ forget about it?"

Kaz says, "Um. Magic, basically. It's got a longer explanation, but that's
one of the things I think your tribe oughta handle."

Salem nods. "I can explain that to you later."

"Magic. Okay." Quentin finishes off the donut, brushing the crumbs from
his fingers against his knee as he sums up, "So. No being a big bad
werewolf in the mall. Gotcha."

Aiyana grins. "Hey, least it'd make Christmas shopping go a whole lot
quicker," she comments in response to Quentin.

Kaz grins. "Right. Anyway. This next one... it ain't as fucked up as it
sounds. We heal from almost anything, and something that'd fuck us up bad
enough to cripple us, well, /I/ wouldn't wanna live that way, neither.
Anyway. So. 'Do Not Suffer Thy People to Tend Thy Sickness in Death.'"

Quentin half-grins at Aiyana's comment, and then blinks at Kaz. "Too many
'thy's there. English?"

Kaz says "Basically, if you're too fucked up to live without major life
support, don't stick around."

Quentin purses his lips for a moment, and then nods ever so slowly towards
her. "I guess.. I guess that makes sense."

Jeremy finishes off his pizza, then starts in on his coke, simply
listening and sipping.

Kaz nods. "Yeah. Like I say, it takes a /lot/ to get us into that state,
and... well, yeah." She sighs, and then shakes her head. "Anyway. Next two
are related. 'The Leader May Be Challenged at Any Time of Peace; The
Leader May Not Be Challenged in Time of War.' An' before you ask, the Big
Heap Kahuna of a Sept decides when we're at war and when we ain't." A
shadow flickers over her face. "We just got over a war."

"Sept? And what war..?" Quentin's thoughts catch up with him, then, and he
sits up a bit as he backtracks a few moments in the conversation to
protest, "..waitaminute. You said that we, like, heal from everything.
Even being shot."

Aiyana slides down to the floor, still leaning her back against the wall.

"Some things heal more slowly than others," Salem says. "And,
occasionally, some things don't heal at all." Like those scars on his
face. Or the blind eye.

Kaz shakes her head. "No. We heal from /a lot/, and quickly, but
sometimes, even /we/ can't heal something." She swallows. Accent gone, she
says, "In that recent war, a lot of people ended up terribly scarred. Or
dead."

"..oh." Not knowing what to say, Quentin just looks around the room at the
others present with an uncertain expression on his face. Quiet a moment,
before he asks, "What was it.. the war.. about? What happened?"

Salem looks toward Kaz, the Galliard. And Lecturer of the Evening.

Kaz says, "Well. See. That actually kind of ties into the last Litany law,
which is: 'Ye Shall Take No Action That Causes a Caern to Be Violated.' A
Caern is a place of spiritual power, what Garou communities gather around.
And ours..." Her jaw tenses, as does her back. "It got invaded by our
enemies. Taken. Defiled." She looks down at her hands. Carefully, she
says, "We have taken it back. We took it back, in this war, and we are
making sure it will never be taken again. Those who died in this war
attest to that fact."

Jeremy lets out a soft breath, wringing his hands together. Standing, he
turns and heads back into the kitchen, exhaling a bit.

Aiyana glances up as Jer walks past her. She stands and follows after him,
asking, "You okay?"

Quentin gnaws on his lip again as he listens to Kaz's brief summary of
recent events in a silence perhaps more attentive than he has been the
rest of the evening. After a moment he asks quietly, trying to get a
handle on it,"So.. this 'worm' thing invaded this holy place? And a bunch
of people died?"

Kaz says, "Yes." It's very brief. Then she adds, in explanation, "Two of
them were my packmates. One of them was Salem's packmate. We were both...
linked to them, spiritually, when they died. I... felt them. Dying."

Jeremy paces about the kitchen a bit, then shrugs his shoulders. "Fine..
fine.." He says to Aiyana, pacing about in a wide arc'd circle.

Aiyana snorts. "Bull," she mutters. "I can tell otherwise. Want a hug?"
She holds out her arms, smiling faintly. "C'mon. Snuggle-snuggle..."

Quentin's green eyes flicker to consider Salem briefly, then return to Kaz
as he watches her expression for a moment. "Damn," he says at last, nearly
whispers, "You're.. really serious, aren't you?"

Jeremy lets out a breath, then steps into Aiyana's arms, pressing his
cheek into her shoulder. Sigh.

Salem exhales a quiet breath. "Quite serious, yes." His expression is
solemn, any grief he might be feeling still kept locked away.

Aiyana wraps her arms around the kin and lightly rubs his back. "It'll be
okay," she whispers softly.

Jeremy gives her a quick squeeze. "I know." He furrows his brows, then
steps back from her, heading for the fridge again. Another coke, another
caffinee rush.

Kaz can't quite answer that for a moment. She swallows. Then, slightly
muffled, "Yes. Very serious."

Aiyana sighs, shaking her head as she looks back towards the group in the
other room.

Quentin draws his other knee back in against his chest once more, both
arms folding 'round them as he curls back into the corner of the couch
once more. He starts to say something, and then fails in that task..
simply quiet, for the moment, occasionally glancing back over to Salem or
Kaz again.

Eventually, Kaz shakes her head. A little less terse, she asks, "What?"

Salem inhales a breath, lets it out, and then straightens up, breaking the
mock-lounge and folding his arms across his chest.

Quentin runs his tongue over his lips briefly, before admitting quietly,
"I just didn't.. wasn't.." A pause, and he shakes his head, "I mean, this
all sounds pretty crazy. You.. I mean, you're serious, though. People
/died/."

There is a sharp knock on the much-abused door.

Aiyana looks towards the door curiously. "More people? Geez. We got a nice
lil' party up in here..."

"I'll get it." Murmurs the kin as he moves towards the door, opening it
up.

"People die in war," Salem says, perhaps more harshly than he meant to.
His tone, while not the pure, controlled deadpan from last evening, is
flat.

Kaz says, quietly, much more articulate about this than she was able to be
last week, "Yes. People died. People I /loved/ died. It happens. It
doesn't mean I have to like it." She jerks a thumb at Salem. "He doesn't
like it any more than I do."

"I don't like it either." Jeremy softly says, rubbing the bridge of his
nose. "Hi Rhiannon."

Rhiannon greets Jeremy with a wave. "Heya. How's it going?" She peers past
him into the apartment, or attempts to, and explains, "I hear there's a
new cub on the block."

Aiyana waves to Rhi and smiles towards her. "Yo. Welcome."

Thump, thumpity-thump. Someone starts knocking on the door. Thump.

"New guy is over there. His name is Quentin." Jeremy motions with a hand
as he makes his way back to the computer desk, reaching out to unidle the
screen saver. "Geezus." He says, glancing to the new knocking.

Quentin actually winces at the harsh tones from Salem's quarter of the
room, before nodding slowly back towards Kaz. Fortunately he's rescued
from having to say anything by someone coming in-- and from where he's
curled up in a corner of the couch in sweats, he looks up towards Rhiannon
with a blink. Then a second blink, as someone else knocks.

Kaz tells Jeremy, "I think that's for me," but lets him get it.

Salem glances up, shaking off and pushing back the aura of gloom with some
effort, and tilts a nod toward Rhiannon.

Aiyana quirks a brow. "Geez, man," she comments about the new knocking.
"Who now?"

Jeremy glances to the screen, squinting his eyes. "Anneka is at the door."
He rises once again, making his way to the door. He opens it up, twitching
just a bit, letting out a breath. "Mmm.. I'm.. ganna... get some fresh air
guys." His voice is a bit wavery, nervous. Goosebumps has risen up on his
arm.

Rhiannon approaches those she knows first--a nod to Salem, and a smile and
hello for Kaz and Aiyana. She then pauses and looks Quentin over, before
introducing herself. "Rhiannon. But you can call me Mac if that's
preferable."

Aiyana looks towards Jer and nods a little. "Keep outta trouble, a'ight?"
She smiles, "Don't be too long."

When the door opens a young woman steps right in, her sunglasses and beret
and battered pullover doing little to hide a familiar face and curly hair.
She glances at Jeremy, quirks a corner of her mouth up and slips aside to
make room for the door to close. "There were little men out in the hall,
with beards. They wanted to come in too."

Kaz shoots Rhiannon a smile, though it's got the shadows of what she'd
just been talking about in it. Then she's off the couch and over to her
packmate, before Anneka's even quite done talking. "Yo, hey," she mutters,
not quite actually hugging her, but leaning into her a bit.

A hand lifts from Quentin's knee, fingers wriggling in a bit of a wave
towards Rhiannon as he offers a wan smile back towards her. "Hi. I'm
Quentin, like they said."

Jeremy pauses for a moment at Anneka's words, then shakes his head a bit,
clearing thoughts. Chattering teeth lightly clatter together, huffing.
"..K.." The kin opens up the door and hurries himself through, shutting it
rather roughly.

Aiyana watches Jer leave, blinking as she tries to figure out what's
wrong. She waves towards Anneka from her spot in the kitchen. "Welcome."

Salem eyes the new arrival for a moment or two; in the moments between
Rhiannon's arrival and Anneka's, the Walker has locked down the emotional
defenses, and his expression reveals little more than ruthless
self-control. He turns back to Quentin. "Do you have any questions in
regards to the Litany?"

Rhiannon sighs after Jeremy, and catches Aiyana's glance with a tight
smile. "Moon's getting big, lobita, and you're not an easy group to hang
around then. Even I won't be here too long." She's not fidgeting, but
there's a careful tension to her, as if she were performing a balancing
act.

Quentin lets those fingers brush along back through his hair, the apple of
his throat rising and falling as he looks back over towards Salem at the
question. "..is that all of them? All the rules, that is?"

Anneka leans back, a wiry counter to the taller woman's weight. Her
sunglasses hide her eyes, but the lines of her face soften. She pushes her
beret off, curly hair tumbles about everywhere. "Hey," she says, quiet.

Kaz slips an arm around Anneka's waist, silent, for the moment.

Aiyana ohs. "I...didn't know that," she says quietly to Rhi. "But he's
gonna be a'ight, right? Just needs to, um, relax away from us?"

Salem inclines his head. "In general, yes. You'll want to learn them,
because you'll be expected to follow them." He steeples his fingers.
"Don't worry, though. As a cub, you have some, ah, leeway, at least for
the first week or so. Within reason."

Rhiannon reassures Aiyana, "It's harder for some than others, but he'll
bounce back, don't worry." She looks to the latest arrival, Anneka, and
nods a hello.

Quentin purses his lips for a moment, "I suppose writing them down to
study would be frowned on, huh?"

Salem nods. "In the interest of keeping the Veil... yes. However, we can
go back over them as many times as you like."

Kaz mutters, "And ain't /that/ just a thrill," with a faint grin.

Quentin nods slightly to that, scratching at his cheek a bit before saying
quietly, "I think that most of them are pretty.. self explainatory. Obey
the chain of command. Don't eat people. Do your job and protect what
you're supposed to protect. No dating werewolves."

Anneka takes her glasses off, the scars that trail along one side of her
face standing out, sharp once their veil's removed. One eye's green and
bright, the other's gone. She glances over at Aiyana, smiles, very quick
and faint, then nods to the gathered Walkers, the new cub. "Hey, hi." She
keeps where she is, leaned up against Kaz.

"Excellent." Salem gives Quentin a thin, tight smile of approval. "You're
off to a good start. Have you learned anything other than the Litany yet?"

Rather than wait on an introduction, Rhiannon informs Anneka, "Rhiannon.
Walker Kin." She gives her a faint but warm smile, only half listening in
to Quentin's learning.

Kaz seems to have reverted to a somewhat more passive, observatory mode,
just leaning against her packmate, listening. Recharging, so to speak.

Quentin casts a glance towards Anneka, finally, offering a faint smile of
greeting over towards her before looking back towards Salem.. and he
shakes his head a little. "Kaz said there were a bunch of tribes of
werewolves, I guess, but, other than that.."

Kaz says, half apologetically, "Ain't had much time."

Aiyana yawns and stretches, sitting herself down on the floor again.

"Hi. Anneka Bridge-Mender," the young woman says. Then, without pause,
"Cliath Bone Gnawer, Philodox. There's a lot to learn, but you will. We
all did."

Salem leans forward, tapping his fingers against his chin. "Mmn. Yes,
twelve of them. Originally, there were sixteen. That's... a bit of an
extended lesson. The important one to know is your own, the Glass
Walkers." He glances over at Kaz. "I don't suppose his auspice has been
calculated yet?"

Kaz says, "Frankie said he thought he was a Galliard. That's actually
parta why I came over." The 'since you don't have any of those anymore' is
unspoken. "Think Jeremy's got an almanac around?"

"Quentin," the cub offers with a slightly rueful expression, and a glance
towards Salem, "..a, um, Glass Walker, I guess." A look between Salem and
Kaz, then, before he ventures, "..auspice?"

Kaz doesn't seem inclined to disengage herself from Anneka to find out.
"Yeah. It's kind your role in Garou society. Determined by what moon you
were born under."

Rhiannon looks around the apartment, but finally glances at Aiyana. She's
reluctant to bring her to Salem's attention with this sort of request,
however... "Know where he'd keep something like that?"

Salem lifts an eyebrow. "On computer, I'd imagine." He turns back to the
cub. "A Galliard is a talesinger. A storyteller or, more mundanely, one
who makes sure the news that needs to be spread gets spread, and that
information gets to the right people."

Aiyana glances up, then hmms. "Naw...off-hand, I've no clue," she admits.
"Want me to go check in the bedroom?"

Kaz eyes Jeremy's computer. "He's prolly got it rigged to blow if someone
other than him uses it, or somethin'."

Quentin blinks slightly, "Your date of birth deter.. er.. okay." He's had
to accept stranger things, this conversation. A slight nod over towards
Salem then, and he asks, "..so. Werewolf Media, basically?"

Rhiannon gives Jeremy's computer a narrow look for keeping useful
information from them. "Well, we can wait until he comes back, I suppose."

Kaz nods. "We're also sorta... well, we rally th' Garou, tell tales of
past shit, inspire people to do better now."

Aiyana chuckles at Kaz. "I wouldn't doubt it. That computer, I swear, is
like a kid to him."

"Basically," Salem says. He holds up a finger. "There is an exception.
Occasionally, a Garou can choose to Renounce their birth auspice and take
another. This isn't a decision that's made lightly, however."

Kaz says "An' most tribes don' take to it too kindly."

Salem agrees with Kaz. "They don't. However, the Walkers are one of the
tribes who are much more rational about such things."

Kaz says, genuinely admiring, "Nice word choice there."

It's visual pong. Quentin looks to Kaz.. then to Salem.. Kaz, Salem, Kaz,
Salem. A bit of chewing on his lip again, before he nods slowly, "Okay.."

[And here's where the MUSH died.  Basically, Quentin got taught the
auspices, then lessons were finished for the night.]

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