[the caern - forums]

By now the night's worn on, and the tensest, most argumentative part of the moot is over. The Garou settle in for tales of past glory and future hopes...

(pinky)
<U>Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee</U>

::As sung by Pinky, Cliath Galliard of the children of Gaia::

Indian legislation on the desk of a do-right Congressman,
Now, he don't know much about the issue,
So he picks up the phone and he asks advice from 
the Senator out in Indian country
A darling of the energy companies 
who are ripping off what's left of the reservations.......

I learned a safety rule, 
I don't know who to thank!
Don't stand between the reservation 
and the corporate bank.
They send in federal tanks, 
it isn't nice but it's reeeeeeeeeality!

Bury my heart at Wounded Knee.
(<I>Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.</i>)
Deep in the Earth.
(<I>Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.</i>)
Cover me with pretty lies.
(<I>Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.</i>)

They got these <B>ENERGY</B> companies, 
who want to <B>TAKE</B> the land.
they've got <B>CHURCHES</B> by the dozens 
want to <B>GUIDE</B> our hand.

...and sign Mother Earth over to pollution war and greeeeeed!

Bury my heart at Wounded Knee - 
(<I>Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.</i>)
Deep in the Earth.
(<I>Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.</i>)
Cover me with pretty lies.
(<I>Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.</i>)

We get the <B>FEDERAL</B> marshals, 
we get the <B>COVERT</B> spies
We get the <B>LIARS</B> by the fire, 
and we get the <B>FBIs</B>
They lie in <B>COURT</B> and get nailed, 

and still <B>Leonard Peltier</B> goes off to jaaaaail!
<I>(..... The bullets don't match the gun!)</i>

An eighth of the reservation.
(<I>Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.</i>)
Transferred in secret.
(<I>Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.</i>)
Murder and intimidation.
(<I>Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.</i>)

My girlfriend Annie Mae, 
talked about uranium
Her head was filled w.ith bullets, 
and her body dumped.
The FBI cut off her hands and told us:

.....she died of expooooooosure?!

We had the goldrush wars, 
ah, didn't we learn to crawl?
And now our history gets written 
in a liar's scrawl. They tell 'ya, 

<I>"Hey, honey, you can still be an Indian d-d-down at the Y on Saturday nights"</i>

<I>Bury my heart at Wounded Knee.
(Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.)
Bury my heart at Wounded Knee.
(Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.)</i>

<B>Bury.</B><I> (Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.)</i><B> My.</B><I> (Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.)</i><B> Heart.</B>

<B>Bury.</B><I> (Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.)</i><B> My.</B><I> (Bury-my-heart-at-Wounded-Knee.)</i><B> Heart.</B>

<B>BURY. MY. HEART. </B>

(nelly)
“The fundamental history of this city is an epic in itself… and has come to light as being a bitch of a write. Alas, as right, 'the Bitch' shall be the fruits of every silver gibed tongue which falls underneath the gibbous moon in Chicago. But where to begin is a trick sought after by the cunningness of the No Moons. And the wisest of elders make circles of life shouting ‘where to begin, where to begin’…. 

We shall keep the time, and begin after the Yearning.

It was the pack, known as the Quick, who answered the flocks call
And pressed, as any scout, against the Wyrms invisible walls… 
Its tapestry embrace choked the tiniest of Gaia’s heartbeats, 
Following a single call, a faintly breath of old, they leaped…. 

Into the shadows the chivalrous bound
Distress their silver blades struck
Their wounds cut into enigmatic knots of darkness
In search of El Dorado…

Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of El Dorado.

But he grew old—
This knight so bold—
And o'er his heart a shadow
Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like El Dorado.

And, as his strength
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow—
‘Shadow,’ said he,
‘Where can it be—
This land of El Dorado?’

‘Over the Mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
Ride, boldly ride,’
The shade replied—
’If you seek for El Dorado!’
Two keys given to them… 
May together they unlock Eden.”

She paused, taking a breath. Creases forming between light brows as refrained a silent moment. Waving a dismissive hand, “Just the clip notes for now… We will skip to that Day’s end…

Fallen upon the horizon Sol rested his head. 
Gathering far below the streets of Chicago Peony botrytis blight; 
In groups they fell… 

Parameters: the Ferrets, Kadin, Kiril, Tristian, Mina, Lexi, Kris, Will… sky… Rasputin.. Umbral. 
Spearhead: Yu Gan, Eagles, Curata, Kegan, Jude
Center: All theurges, Jim of the Bee Gees, the Knights, and four wyld Gorgon Gators
Flank: Two packs of Silver Crowned Kings and one child of Cannibal. 

Kinfolk! Our treasures and our aids, our brothers and sisters, blessed and cursed with the half blood of humans and Gaian warriors. Kinfolk…. Scattered upon the streets, pushing the rims and borders… 
And though the children of Ferret scurried upon the rooftops and ladders,
Their eyes could not pierce the darkness which fell upon our kin with a clatter…
Until it was too late.
Kiril was the first to fall. 

I collected a memory upon a teardrop
Of a lover of deadly night’s shade; 
Who choked her screams upon the sight
Of the first fallen warrior floating by. 
Half brother, half lover, half warrior was he
And all man, pure of heart with golden lips 
And gentle and strong hands. 
Her eyes turned to this lover to bottle the deathly sight
Capturing upon her single, perfect round drop falling
Falling from one eye – I collected;
One eye that enveloped his soul in salted tears
And She, sheltered below the streets, 
Saved every last memory, emotion, until 
The ghost of Kiril was set free – 
Bursting from the sewer grates and breaking 
Breaking upon the great wave of darkness by the lover of She.”

Another breath was taken, “there are a million details and a million stories within stories of the great Birthing,” her pacing ceased suddenly. Arms streatching wide, behind her head to crack her spine before gracefully she sat upon the earthen floor. Blue eyes, as deep as the ocean, swept around the crowd. Platinum blonde locks fell across her shoulders as she shook her head, “Ya’ll need to know. Memories of the past, present, and even future is what binds us as Gaia’s chosen. And so I will recant, no as a poet, not as performer, but as one who wished to keep your focus upon the point. Later, when time allows, the walls of the Great Halls will be built, and upon these the entire length of this epic shall be written. For now….

The groups fell underneath and ontop of the great streets of Chicago. Jim Digs thru trash Larson, Bone Gnawer and full moon of the quick, held the key upon finding the dormant Caern. He was surrounded by the theurges... a nuclear moving thru the sewers of Chicago’s belly, protected by the elements of Black Unicorn’s furious Knights. Jim, even though Ahroun, had become one with this fetished key. A spirit consumed his body and soul, guiding him towards the dormant Caern. It would not rest until it was found, and thus Jim would not, could not rest. That he lived thru such a possession, should make any wise man tremble. He did though. And he guided, thru his totem’s gifts, the others above the streets in the direction of the old shipyard gravesite we stand upon now. 

For a while, all was quiet. For a while, nothing happened. A trap was laid. The kinfolk were the first to take on this brunt, and lost the most within their group. The Ferrets saved the last of them.

Second to strike and second to come under attack, the Spearhead. Yu Gan, great scout, followed his Beta’s calls. When he saw the rusted gates of the shipyards, is when he first saw the trap. A great trap, for the Wyrm had laid in waiting for the Gaians. Ten Black Sprial Dancers, a pack it seemed, met the spearhead once inside the gates. In a great flurry, all men struck upon the blackness, and fall the darkness did. But it was a baited breath….

The great unmaker held a test for the rearguard as well. For within the sewers they followed the tails of the Center’s party. Until, that is, the pipes burst forth the worst releaves of mankind and worse upon them. The great Silvered Kings of the Nation were tarnished in a beltched insult from the Wyrm. And within this beltch sprug forth a pack of Sprials. A pack, which fell faster than the ones above, even with the upper hand. With the last slain, they pushed forward….

Bursting from the grates of the streets came the Center and the Rearguards. In droves the Gaians were seen, even as the Wyrm kept the great cloak fallen upon the shipyard. Erick Blood Eagle and Decker, El Capitan, Ruhle, called for order, called for places. The army of we bade their words true and followed orders, as we always do. Theurges collected in their nucleus around the Birthfather, Jim Larson. The pushed on. Even when the great tapestry was lifted, and the Wyrm released its minions upon us all. 

The war had begun. "

With this she stood, once again, and closed those bedroom eyes. Reaching far within, she called upon the gifts bestowed upon her by the gibbious moon... and recalled, with PERFECT RECALL, every scent, sound, word, and act that was the Grand Finale. 

http://lessa.blackdays.net/exploits/index.php?p=261

((As this scene is very, very, very long... and this post must be kept short... and already has not been... the link above will tell all what happened, for it is the Grand Finale which has been recorded by the official C&P wench. *thank you*.))

When she was spent, her body crumpled softly upon the ground. Laying upon her back, she stared into the starry night and spoke outloud, "The Bitch will be taught to all. In the following nights, I will be found within the Caern's walls. Gibbious moons, come when you will, for the complete, and unabridged version of this long epic."

((I will be writing in the forums the epic. Its really long, so as I have said, it will be piece melded together thru a series of posts for everyone to see and hear. Thank you, have fun.)) 

(shichiri kojun)
From the little Buddhist Uktena *G*

The Thief and the Master

One evening, Zen master Shichiri Kojun was reciting sutras when a thief entered his house with a sharp sword, demanding "money or life". Without any fear, Shichiri said, "Don't disturb me! Help yourself with the money, it's in that drawer". And he resumed his recitation. 

The thief was startled by this unexpected reaction, but he proceeded with his business anyway. While he was helping himself with the money, the master stopped and called, "Don't take all of it. Leave some for me to pay my taxes tomorrow". The thief left some money behind and prepared to leave. Just before he left, the master suddenly shouted at him, "You took my money and you didn't even thank me?! That's not polite!". This time, the thief was really shocked at such fearlessness. He thanked the master and ran away. The thief later told his friends that he had never been so frightened in his life. 

A few days later, the thief was caught and confessed, among many others, his thieft at Shichiri's house. When the master was called as a witness, he said, "No, this man did not steal anything from me. I gave him the money. He even thanked me for it." 

The thief was so touched that he decided to repent. Upon his release from prison, he became a disciple of the master and many years later, he attained Enlightenment.

(sliver)
from the big bad shadow lord ragabash:

"<B>the thief and the Kral</B>

"one evening, the Kral Matej Deadly-Thunder was planning his next assault on the neighboring duchy to the west when a thief entered his house with a sharp sword, demanding money or life. without any fear, Matej said, "don't disturb me. leave my keep with your life and your sword, touch not a penny in my coffers." and he resumed his study of the maps without so much as a glance up.

"the thief was startled by this unexpected reaction, but he proceeded with his business anyway. while he was helping himself to the money, the Kral stopped and raised his head, calling, "don't take money from my coffers. leave everything as it were, and tomorrow i will not hunt you down." for you see, Matej was a kindly Kral, so far as Krals went. the thief heeded him not, however, and prepared to leave with bags heavy with gold. just before he left, the Kral suddenly laughed at him, "you took my money and you didn't even beg my forgiveness? that's not wise!" this time, the thief was really shocked at such fearlessness. he turned and ran away. the thief later thought to himself he had never been so frightened in his life.

"a few days later, the Kral's men caught the thief. when the Kral was called to lay sentence upon him, he said, 'for not heeding my warnings, let his ears be stabbed through with red hot pokers. for daring to lay foot inside my halls uninvited, and for daring to lay finger upon my belongings, let both hands and feet be chopped off and fed to the crows. and for not repenting and begging my forgiveness when he had a chance, let him be strung up naked over the castle walls where all can see his slow death by the crows and the elements.'

"the Kral, you see, was a fan of the over-the-top gruesome details, as is myself. they make the story so much more interesting, don't you think?"

when sliver laughs, it's honey and wine, nails and blackboard.

"anyhow. the thief was so terrified that he decided to repent, but it was too late. for seven nights and seven days he hung from meathooks over the ramparts, screaming for mercy and receiving none. on the eighth morning he died, and for two weeks after his body rotted slowly, carrion for the crows.

"obviously, he never achieved the rank the Kral held. and what's more, the commoners of the land saw the example his terrible death had set. none dared challenge the might of the Kral ever again."

with a sickle-thin smile in the direction of the uktena, the metis ragabash resumes his crouch with his tribe. 

(trey bishop)
From the Mouth of Soda ~Ahem~ I mean Trey Bishop, Of the Coggies:

Ok, well listen carefully, for this is a tale of...well lots of things, just like movies you get to see at the theatres.
*Grins*

There once was a grand master of the waves, who was so good he just had to be Garou, and of course Ahroun, What tribe he was has been lost to legend. And he was so good, he forgot his own name, instead calling himself "The Big Kahuna".
Now the Big Kahuna rode the waves day and night, beneath Sol and Luna alike, each of them praising him in their own way, Luna making the waves swell and grow as they race to the shore, Sol heating the sky and spray, pushing the wind against the beach.

And for many years this happened, Luna and Sol growing more and more sure that it was their help and not the others who made The Big Kahuna so powerful and great.

Their bickering began small and tiny, until it Sol and Luna were chasing each other across the sky arguing at every chance.

And the Big Kahuna noticed, but he still rode the waves, strong yet prideful of his own importance.

And on one moonless night, something crawled from the waves as The Big Kahuna strode to the beach. Something monstrous, stinking of the wyrm's very essence.

So of course, The Big Kahuna did the only thing an Ahroun in his position should do.

He kicked the things ass.

It was a tremendous battle, claws and teeth nashing and lashing, blood and ichor flying..you know all the stuff that makes movies so popular...

And in the end, The Big Kahuna stood triumphant over the beast, it's beating heart lieing in it's torn open chest, and he howled to the sky in conquest.

"take the heart" he heard the ocean call on the waves. "it is my gift to you. to make you stronger...to ride the waves better."

Now, we all know it was not the waves or the ocean talking, but see The Big Kahuna was a great surfer and warrior, but that didn't leave to much time for the schooling.

Now as I was saying, The Big Kahuna heard the ocean's call, and promptly eat the heart in one gulp, licking his lips.

"Alright then."

And he did the only thing he could think of doing.

Surfing.

He grabbed his board, rode out to the waves....

...And sunk like a stone.

Luna and Sol returned, and not finding their Kahuna, then turned their attention back to the things they were needed in...like...giving light to flowers and such.

And as with most stories, there is a moral.

"No matter who your friends are, or how powerful you are, or even how big and tough you are....Never...Never go swimming after you've eaten."

*A grin to the crowd as he settles back, a chuckle rising in his throat* 

(summer anne)
Summer Anne sits there with her pack, the cowboy hat firmly in place. Chin tipped up just so, she watches Pinky perform with a twisted combination of both envy and delighted pride. Wish she sing a song like that. Wish she could play like that. And also: that's her girl, up there, a-singing. The former beauty queen's mouth curls upward in dumb-ass smile that sparks a greenstorm in her eyes, 'cept they're hidden behind the brim of her cowboy hat so can't no one see 'em. 

Next comes the Uktena, and Summer Anne listens hard but ain't too sure she's got the point of it. So if'n you make people say thank you...? What if that thief was a-thieving from other people an' they only caught him out for doin' the one crime? (Sometimes she likes to watch NYPD. They've got them some funny accents in New York City.) Mmmph. She'll hafta think about that one a-while, but the girl lifts her head and flashes the Uktena a smile that's likely lost in the crowd: just another one of the girls in a new, unrecognized pack. 

Then there's a Shadow Lord, an' Summer has a hard time listening and not starin' at those horns curling out of its head. Her chin sinks, face falling further into shadow that hides both her close study and her expression, but the strange good giddiness of seein' Pinky perform is starting to seep outta her and Summer Anne can feel something darker, something sullen and black. She tilts her head to the side and stares out at the Shadow Lord as he finishes his tale, no longer fascinated by the devil-horns he is sporting, just watching and listening, silent. 

When Trey's tale-telling, Summer Anne's no longer really listening. Her heart is beating faster and she can feel her palms sweating, nervous, because she's already half-resolved in her mind on her next course of action. She's just practicing in her head, the sort of practicing that isn't so much practice at all, more like a hamster running track around a wheel because she don't know really how to practice and don't know how to get beyond the first few words in her head, the opening, she'll know what to do, right? She'll be okay. 

Summer flashes a glance at her Alpha for permission, not worrying that he won't give it, 'cos he'll always gives permission and then - laughing with the crowd at Trey's punchline (because she always laughs, because she's good at laughter, because laughter is as natural to her as growin' is to grass) - she's rising as the other Coggie retreats, heading to the center of the circle and wiping her palms off on the thighs of her jeans. 

Once she reaches the center, Summer Anne doffs her cowboy hat, revealing her face as she hadn't really before, and the twin braids spilling down her back. Even with the french braids to keep her hair under control, she still has a pretty bad case of hat-head. 

Summer Anne looks real different without the cowboy hat, just ordinary, just a girl, and the subtle thread of rage pulling through her is swirling through her as nervous energy, making her move. Soon as she gets up there, she knows she shouldn't've done it. The smile she offers the crowd is the same as her normal smile, but thinner, somehow, like the good parts have been shaved off'a it leaving only the curling of lips and the baring of teeth. 

"So, uhm - " an inauspicious beginning, a very inauspicious beginning. Already, the girl is crushing the crown of her cowboy hat, crumpling it in her hand. It's not too hard, the whole hat is already so broke-down probably not even the Salvation Army would take it even if they could. " - uh, once upon a time they was this Lord. An' his name was uh, hmm - "

It doesn't take much to get her off-track. In this case, it was just a glimpse of the crowd of Garou, that sea of battle-hardened faces, all them strangers staring at her while she's talking ain't nothing like standing around hootin' and hollerin'. Summer Anne hems and haws over the name for a little while, digging her toes into the stuff beneath her feet like a reluctant bather - <I>I ain't! Momma I ain't! Gittin'! NO! BATH!</i> - when at last she comes out with something, in a great big rush. " - an' his name was'snogg." Heh. Summer's thin smile bleeds into a goofy grin, and she rocks forward on her toes before continuing and half-clarifying.

"His name was Nogg, an' he was a great big lord an' he set up on his mountain that he had done got - kinda stolen, see? - from someone else who was a great big lord before him an' probably stole it too, that big mountain. Anyhoo, ever-who come on up there to say hi or maybe to tell that big ole Nogg that they wasn't gonna give him no more of their cows or girls or gold, he done called 'em a thief an' strung 'em right up and killed 'em real slow like, they done with that guy what got killed by that crawl-guy and soon ain't no one come up to see him anymore so he didn't have no one to kill. So, he started sometimes when he was a'feelin' like killin' somethin' headin' off elsewhere to kill just a few folks, and didn't no one say nothin', an' soon they started sendin' him stuff to keep him from killin' people, an' he thought he was a real bad-ass after that 'cos couldn't no one stand up to him." 

Once she gets going, it all comes out without much thought to phrasing or effect. She's just talkin' and grinnin' sometimes sheepish, sometimes regular, sometimes with real effect. 

"So, that ain't the end of it. One day - years and years later, that Nogg he done had a good long reign up there on top of that big old mountain - some guys they got together an' they said, I bet that old Nogg has lots of treasures an' stuff. I bet we could get it if'n we all got together and took him out. 

"An' so they all got theyselves together and they had a big ole journey and met lots of people an' asked some of them for help an' some folks didn't wanna give no help but other folks was jest so tired of that old Nogg doin' whatever he wanted with them thieves even though he warn't nothing but a thief, neither, that they finally all got together an' some of 'em made a big ole siege around the mountain an' some of 'em snuck inside and some of 'em got some help from the birds and it wasn't easy a'tall but eventually they killed that old Nogg." 

<I>Here</i> the girl finally pauses, and after stomping through the rest of her tale like a steamroller, the effect is pretty damn heavy-handed. She feels like saying it again - they done killed him! - but she's startin' to feel a little foolish about the whole thing. Why'd she stand up again? But, well, she fixes on a picture in her mind and it soothes her a little bit, long enough to come up with a kind of epilogue.

"An' he fell from that old mountain and them new guys done took it, an' they had some arguments an' what-all but that ain't part of this story. Mostly it's about how they all got together to take out that old Nogg ever-when they all was right tired of his shit, which they did." Summer Anne's smiling again, maybe just a little bit pleased with herself, maybe just a little bit scared. She looks out at all them people and shakes out her cowboy hat, straightening out the crown, and sets it right back on her head at last. "An' that's the end of that story."

With that, she half-clicks her boot-clad heels together and tromps off to rejoin the rest of her pack, sliding in with the girls and pushing her hat down until the band is about level to her eyebrows or lower and the brim's shadow covers up the heat that's rising in her tanned cheeks. 

(sliver)
"oh yes. i know that story. the little arguments the new guys had."

glint. since when did ragabashes know stories?
<B>they didn't.</B>

(they make 'em up.)

"might as well tell. finish the circle, yes? the new rulers of the keep who had overthrow the old, and his tyrannical, brutal ways. brothers, you can call them. idealists. brave, fine, shining warriors who had slain the proverbial dragon and now forged from his bones a gleaming new future. or so they hoped.

"how many were there of them? remind me. three? four? yes, four. but, ha ha, it was three before long, wasn't it?"

he gives the impression of a cat picking his teeth with the bones of the canary.

"because a month after the fall of the old Kral, the youngest blood brother fell from the highest tower. fell into thin air. fell a thousand feet, screaming, and hit the bottom so far below no one even heard his bones shatter to dust. it was an accident, of course, or so the remaining three brothers said. and, understandably, they were all very shocked and saddened by the tragedy.

"they were also somewhat frightened by it. the people were unsettled by this event, and they whispered. these whispers reached the ears of the brothers. and in the dark of night they mulled these whispers over. they grew to understand that there can only be one castle at the summit, one keep for each mountain's peak. and they began to wonder just how their youngest brother had fallen. and who would be next.

"the second brother fell in battle not long after. somehow he got separated from his noble siblings and the forces of the enemy swept him under and tore him asunder.

"the third and the eldest bore the weight of rulership together, shoulder to shoulder, for many months. then one night -- no one knows exactly what happened, but when dawn broke only one remained.

"whether he was the third or the eldest no longer mattered. he was the only now. and he seized the old crown. seized the old throne. seized the old mantle. seized the old title.

"and from the ramparts he hung the bones of his brother. thus he became the new Kral, stronger, deadlier, more feared than the last. thus was there peace again in the realm.

"...anyway. that's the version i heard. silly stories for silly children, fit only to be told by sinborn mules."

he will speak no more. 

(pinky)
::POP! The sound of the young blonde's gum. She's a cute girl that Pinky. All smiles and curly blonde hair. The white stick of the lollypop she'd been sucking on through the string of oddly-related tales twirling about guitar pluckin' fingers. When Summer told her tale the young blonde cheered the loudest - as if this were a sporting event. Too. Gawddang. Hyper. The Horned-Shadowlord get up to speak again - the SECOND time, and Pinky? ...that girl started a fit o' sneezin:: 

"Oh geez, S'cuse me." 

:: She's a blonde, a youngester at that, so she bats those purebred baby-blues before well-glossed lips start wrinklin together in apology - and THEN she sneezes again::

"Jeezalu Almighty, ah'm terribly sorry." . 

::Sneezin' and coughin' before her Alpha finally extends a soothing arm - course BY THEN the story amounted to fragmented bits of explanations between someone's allergy attack. Damn Kids.:: 

(decker)
An even more unlikely storyteller -- the Modi. Doesn't stand, doesn't raise his voice, doesn't put on a show. Couldn't if he wanted to.

"Wantch'all ta r'member two o' Eagle's that fell in tha fight.

"Lars Drammenstein, Fierce-Hammer. Unearthed tha Pyrells in th' first place. Without him, wouldn'a even known what we was up against 'til it was too late. He was a good Forseti. Hard but fair. 'N he was a good Fenrir. Fought hard 'til the end. Never gave up.

"I know. I saw.

"Then there's Lexi. Followed th' Eagles since before we was th' Eagles. From Jersey to here. Ain't feared nothin'. Survived more'n one Wyrm raid in her time. Pro'lly helped take down more Wyrmlins than yer average new-Rited Cliath. Ain't many kinfolk kin say that.

"Both'a 'em fell at tha Caernraisin'. But Fenris claims th' best fer his own army. So y'all r'member their names. When Ragnarok comes we'll see 'em again."

Nothing more. 

(trey)
"Lest we forget..."

Trey never knew any of those who fought for the caern, but he did hear of the battle, of the sacrifices they had made so that this night could come.

He bows his head, nodding gently to the Modi, respectful, before raising his head and pulling up his guitar.

"Uh..I'm not as good as Pinky here, but..." He smiles and shrugs.
"Don't look like you got a choice...This is...This is for them who fell, for those that lived, so we remember them...and that there's still a tomorrow.."

He looks at the fire, then to the guitar as he begins to strum his fingers over the strings, a simple rythmn combined with the tapping of his foot in a drum beat, encouraging those around him to join in.

<I>The Friday sun bears down again 
As we drive without friends 
And on these longest days we spend 
All the time trying to pretend 
That our stories could be true 
Our chance to be cool 
The setting sunset says the day is through 
If only we knew... </i>

<I>And we all sit around here in our sweet caern 
Listen to the waves as they all crash down 
And watch the fire as it slowly burns away</i> 

<I>Glowing embers fly across the sky </i>

<I>Here by my side, in my summer, our last summer 
The world passes by in my summer, our last summer 
The light makes shadows fall, surrounded by each other 
Alive to watch it all, the view from our last summer 
The view from our last summer... </i>

Trey looks around the congregation as he sings, changing the words ever so slightly as they come to him, making it more fitting. 

<I>We trace the sun across the sky 
And we laugh till we cry 
Always so hard to say goodbye 
Gooood Bye </i>

<I>And we all sit round here in our sweet caern 
It's so good like this, these are times we'll miss 
The memories, I hope they'll never fade</i>

<I>Glowing embers lie across the sky</i>

<I>Here by my side, in my summer, our last summer 
The world passes by in my summer, our last summer 
The light makes shadows fall, surrounded by each other 
Alive to watch it all, the view through our last summer 
The view from our last summer... </i>

<I>I would stop time to stay with you 
I would stop time so we don't move 
I would stop time 
I would stop time 
I would stop time to keep you </i>

<I>Here by my side, in my summer, our last summer 
The world passes by in my summer, our last summer 
The light makes shadows fall, surrounded by each other 
Alive to watch it all, the view through our last summer 
The view from our last summer... </i>

Trey lets the cord fall into the air, still ringing as he licks his lips, a nod to the crowd.

"For those who can not be here and for those who are here." He smiles happily, putting the guitar back. 

(leroy)
<I>"Wuhhhh Whooooo! You go Soda"</i> A deep rumbling laugh like a rolling thunderhead enraptured him. Clapping his massive hands twice before turning and moving away from the tale circle. His elbow nudging Nelly who was quiet for the moment. He wanted to hear her tale and was growing impatient as hell. 

(shame)
Shame moves forwards, out of the shadows and to the edge of the circle, fist gripping restlessly at the bone when it's finally handed to him. His eyes darting back and forth, gaze licking across faces and bodies like the kiss of a lash, nervous and scared and looking like he might simply drop the bone and run. Instead, when the silence has grown long, and the pressure has reached a snapping point, he steps forwards and into the space.

"I - I have killed a vampire." Posture defensive, as if expecting derision. "With the help of a kin, E-va, well - it attacked her the first night. It tried to follow her into her lair, but I was close and threw it out. She shot it five times too." He pauses, as if letting these words sink in, and finds that something in his blood is stirring, is starting to enjoy following the progression of images in his head and simply translating them into words. Almost closing his eyes, he reaches out with one clenched fist and the other holding the bone, as if painting the image in his mind, "It was in the entrance, and I had just thrown it off me - it was very strong - when she pointed her gun at its head and bam bam bam -" Each shot punctuated by a sharp wave of the bone. 

"It ran and disappeared. Another night we found it in a basement. Dark, rot, cockroaches, smell of old blood and copper. Darkness, foul. We went into its lair, and found its hole behind the wall. It leapt on me, and I met it in my birth form, and killed it." Losing confidence as he mentions his birthform. Pauses, looking around, hunching his warped shoulders.

"Killed it." Stretching out his clenched hand, he opens it and lets white teeth and fangs trickle free between his fingers like beach sand trickling into the ocean. The teeth cascade down onto the ground dance about his feet.

Shoulders hunched again, head ducked down, he whispers, "<I>Killed it. With E-va's help.</i>"

And then he quickly turns and practically runs back into the shadows in the back of the warehouse, handing off the bone to the closest Garou. 

[in progress]