piper90 | [Video]

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Good evening.

[There’s a woman speaking, tone clipped. The corporate jumpsuit hangs off her small frame, and her hair is swept up into an old-fashioned bun. Or so it seems - she’s standing a bit away from the screen, and it’s tilted at an odd angle.]

I am given to understand that this is how to contact my new coworkers? My name is Beatrice Brewer, at your service, and I assure you I am quite qualified. I am - was - an apprentice of the fifth circle in, ah, a collection of magi, have experience in a thrilling variety of crises, and am quite keen to get started on - [a heavy sigh, more notable for the fact that someone observant might catch that she doesn’t breathe] - this situation.

[There’s a long pause.]

Drat, is this bloody thing even on? Dreadful place, what sort of dog and pony show are they running, honestly. Stuff? Stuff? Of all the names?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hey, no need to get mad that you can't get mad gains anymore, Bea.

[ She winks as she finishes a sit-up. Is she... flirting? No. THat's stupid. She would never do that. She's just trying to get under the vampire's skin. ]

I dunno if it's an everyone thing or just me. Some people are just less angry. And if one lost his wolf, sweet mother. I'd ████ing suck on some buckshot if that happened to me.

[ With the brave implication that it would never happen to her, of course. ]

Oh good, you're finding your way around. You need Ariadne's ████ing thread here, I swear.

Ah yes, you've caught me out in all my jealousy of your 'mad gains'.

[ Yes, she does the air quotes. There's another minute of silence except for the sound of her walking. ]

Mm. Yes. That is what he said the prevailing attitude in the Nation was. [Beatrice clears her throat. God forbid someone pick up that she's feeling defensive and bad for a werewolf that's not even here. Or ex-wolf, however that works.] In any case, someone was..gracious enough to give me a tour, although he'd make a poor Ariadne. Not that I would object to some string at the moment. Although we are both a most definite improvement on Theseus. Oh, I think this is it-

[Theseus: just the worst. Not that having your AU vampire boyfriend that doesn't know who you are is much better. Rustle. There's now a five foot vampire peering down the hallway, perhaps less Wyrmy feeling than usual if she's inclined to check, but no heartbeat. Dead as can be.]

[ Kenzie reaches over to shut off the communicator as Bea comes into sight. She shoves herself to her feet, lifts her t-shirt a little so she can dab at some sweat from her brow. The motion offers a glimpse of scar tissue dragging across her belly and right hip. Then the shirt drops back into place. ]

You've found the minotaur. Grr.

[ Kenzie laughs, though her gaze doesn't leave Bea. Her stare is intense. As if she's trying to discern something about Beatrice, though she has no clue what it is. ]

Holy crap you're like doll sized. You're adorable.

[ Sorry, Bea. Kenzie is a fucking idiot who doesn't know when to stop talking. ]

[Her eyes follow the movement of Kenzie's hands, linger on the glimpse of the scar tissue. Out of curiosity, of course. Which is why it takes her a minute to process the rest of what was said.]

...Excuse me? Excu-! I am a- this is a perfectly average size, and I am not and never have been adorable! How dare- you're only a few inches taller than me! Is this the spatial recognizance they teach in the Nation?

You're average size for like, 1776 or whatever.

[ Kenzie seems more amused by the outburst than anything else. She grins, then makes a show of bending slightly to make eye contact with Beatrice, grinning the whole time. ]

Okay maybe you're not that much smaller than me but you are kind of adorable.

[ A beat of silence follows. ]

For a leech. Did the pale skin thing happen because you got snacked on by Count Dracula or were you like, always anemic?

1842! I was born in 1842 and humanity was rather more sensibly sized then, yes!

[Beatrice glowers at Kenzie, looking about five seconds from lunging.]

A pity you traded in your precious extra centimeters for all the sense and manners in your head. A high cost. Count Dracula had considerably more manners than you when he attended upon New York. For the record, since you asked so very sincerely, it takes a certain amount of effort to circulate the blood under our skin, so it pools.

I was born innnn...

[ Kenzie has to think for a moment. It's been a weird last few months and time is extra strange when you're depressed and doing nothing but drinking. ]

1997. Don't be mad because we didn't have to hunt the mammoth like y'all did.

[ Yes, she knows Bea didn't actually hunt mammoths but the way she reacts to the teasing is just so endearing. In a mean-spirited way. ]

Wait, is Count Dracula actually real and did he actually visit New York? And I have plenty of sense. Manners though? Can't help with those.

[ There's that smirk again. That aggravating, self-assured smirk. Kenzie offers out a hand to shake as she straightens up. ]

Mackenzie Haynes. Already said that but we're introduced in person now, too.

[Beatrice continues to give Kenzie the stink-eye, even as something in what she says makes her back off slightly. A baby. This is an actual baby.]

I would say it's a pleasure, but that would patently be untrue. Although I suppose I can forgive your lack of sense, given that by my time you are ... eleven years old. You surely can't be expected to know better.

[A lightning fast smirk. Haha, AN ACTUAL BABY.]

Yes, of course Count Dracula is real, why wouldn't he be? Or - was. He got eaten - nevermind. He usually never left Carpathia in any case, his visit was unusual.

Uhhh 1997 to 2018 is twenty-one years. Did you forget how to do math because you're so ancient?

[ Okay, boomer. ]

I thought you guys made him up to throw humans off the scent.

[The aura of smugness grows, which weighs out her desire to throttle the damn wolf. She makes sure to put as much condescension in her tone as possible.]

It was 2009 in my time, so that does make you a very precocious child. Perhaps twelve, depending on the month. My, who taught you such language at your age?

[She revels in the knowledge that Kenzie deserves this, but the other question inspires her towards some genuine condescension.]

The rest of the Kindred were distinctly unhappy about him blabbing, but the cat was out of the bag, so to speak. Perhaps for the best, it provided some useful cover over the years. Despite his - status among us, you are aware that Dracula was a historical figure as well, yes? He was always real.

Well it's 2018 in my time.

[ Kenzie glares. The boot is on the other foot now and she doesn't like that she gave Bea an opening to needle her about something. Hurmph. She drops to the mat and starts doing push-ups. Because she needs to distract herself. ]

I mean, yeah. Vlad or whatever. But I...

[ Huff. ]

Thought him being a vampire was fake.

[The smugness grows. Ha ha ha.]

Once you get to a certain number of years, 12 and 21 are nearly equally young. After all, should the difference between our timelines be converted to an age that's - scarcely out of a kindergarten.

[I mean okay 9 isn't quite kindergarten but good luck explaining tiny and slightly less tiny to her. She gives Kenzie another assessing look.]

Dracula is quite real, but not all that was described of vampires was correct. An interesting way to keep people guessing - and eager to ignore what they saw as fiction.

I will lay may cards on the table if you do. So, Madam, of my prior acquaintances – you are certainly not one of Unicorn's Brood - nor do you strike me particularly as one of Cockroach's.

[ Kenzie rolls her eyes. ]

Whatever. I'm not a kid. If I stop needling you about your height will you shut up about how I'm a sperm?

[ Gotta be gross, don't you Kenzie? As Bea continues, her exercise slows, then stops. Mackenzie tilts her head and slowly clambers up to her feet. ]

You know more about us than I expected.

[ It's said with a grudging sort of respect. Kenzie only knows there are vampires. What distinctions they make between themselves she's never known nor cared. ]

But no. I'm one of Pegasus' children, if that means anything to you.

A fair deal. I accept your terms. And if it reassures you, the amount of knowledge I have on your people is - unusual for my kind. It was rather unique circumstances.

[Beatrice has a moment for a smirk of her own. She loves the taste of victory. But her eyes light up with a sudden intense interest and she takes a step closer, excited.]

Pegasus does, actually. The clan of women that named themselves for the Erinyes! They sounded like a fascinating bunch, from what little I was told. A respectable cause for them to have taken up ... that is, as far as wolf matters go.

Heh.

[ Having someone suddenly be so excited about her (well her tribe, but whatever) helps stroke Kenzie's ego a little. Even if it's a vampire, when a girl is excited about you it makes you feel good. ]

Yeah, the Black Furies. That's us. We protect the weak, fight for the rights of women. Personally I think that includes queer people, too. We protect the wild places we have left--we fucked up some pipeline projects in Oklahoma. My pack, I mean.

[ Hell yeah. She gives a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. Her pack. Her dead pack. Ugh. She pushes through with a bit of bravado, though. ]

And we kick more ass than any man could hope to.

Hm. I never really did understand why there were so many wolves in Central Park anyway, it's not exactly wild. At least fighting for women is more productive than harrying our kind at every turn.

[She's getting off topic.]

But what of your history? Your people seemed to have claimed Greco-Roman mythos, but what role does it play for you? Is it considered part of Garou record, or apocryphal for you as well, or...? It was so fascinating to learn that what was considered human mythology had also been incorporated into this whole other tradition.

Because it's an important bid of green space in a world overrun by fucking urban sprawl, Bea.

[ Mackenzie rolls her eyes just a little. Fucking vampires. ]

We talk a lot about that stuff in our histories. The ones we pass from mother to daughter. But you can be fucking sure I'm not about to spill all of our tribal history to you.

[ HMPH. ]

That's for us. Not for outsiders.

An incredibly small and artificial one. Not even the most natural space in the area, Ms. Haynes. But I suppose it's good to know all one has to do is plop down a tree and every wolf in the area will come running.

[The scowl grows at both the nickname and being denied tasty, tasty lores.]

Since evidently, you're not good for much else. Those stories are humanity's heritage too, not just the Garou's.

When your mother is dying, you do everything you can to keep her alive.

[ A scowl in return. ]

The humans have their own versions. Garou aren't human and we have our own relations with the spirits that go into our stories. Would you spill your magical vampire secrets if I asked you? Bet not.

Yes, your mother, Gaia. I am aware.

[She sniffs primly.]

I might tell, if you asked. The details of magic would likely do little for you, but we do have our own share of takes on Greco-Roman times. One well known elder Kindred claims to be the Mithras himself that Mithraic tradition was based upon. Another clan claims to have instigated the destruction of Carthage. They never shut up about it.

Surely there is some aspect that your people are not too holy to share. Actually, why do all your clans seem to call Gaia, well, Gaia? As opposed to only those following from Mediterranean tradition.

It's not that they're too sacred. It's just frowned on to give away our knowledge to the Wyrm.

[ There's a brief moment of mild confusion. Then Mackenzie shrugs. ]

I dunno. Pretty sure the American tribes have their own names for her, but we use Gaia in English. Just kind of always been that way. Not sure if it's a result of good old fashioned cultural imperialism or some originator of our culture way back in the mists of time, honestly.

Edited 2020-10-27 03:45 (UTC)

Hm. It makes sense that there is some variation at least, although the uniformity was startling at first. I wasn't told much about the American tribes, but was given to understand that the others covered a variety of tradition. Even the machismo Viking wolves and whatnot.

[Beatrice doesn't sound like whoever told her far too much about the Garou had a very high opinion of the Get.]

I suppose I shall have to rely that incredibly key, tactical knowledge. You know, at our next Wyrm meeting. Where everything vaguely Wyrmish meets up with the Wyrm and talks Wyrm business.

Cultural imperialism is a hell of a drug. The shit we did to the American tribes should be considered one of the greatest fucking shames on the Garou nation.

[ Mackenzie you are not even scratching the surface of the Top Ten Most Shameful Garou Moments (#3 will shock you!). ]

And fuck the Get. Bunch of patriarchal Nazi fucks if you ask me.

[ Something might suggest that Mackenzie doesn't like the Get much either. ]

Don't give me that shit, you guys are shady as fuck. I know you don't literally hop over to fucking nearest hive for a spot of tea and crumpets with your local Black Spirals. Also you're like, dead but not really dead and that's some Wyrm bullshit.

[A minute wince. The wyrm wolves are..unpleasant to think about.]

Yes, well, the time I was invited to tea by one of those 'Spiral Dancers', I think we were rather equally unhappy with how it went. He's probably still trapped there, trying to guess the password.

But you know, it is absurd to hear any hints about unnaturality from a shapeshifter. Your lot claim to be half-spirit – why yes, I know about that. Living beings, mystically anchored by the ties to your spiritual duties. Kindred are just the reverse, spiritual - essences of being, who are mystically anchored to our material bodies. If I wanted to talk hypocrisies, I could just hear it from an Elder.

We're living manifestations of Gaia's will. We were made specifically to be Her warriors. You guys are the walking dead with better table manners. It's not hypocritical to suggest that there's something unnatural about a living corpse.

[ Kenzie snaps out her reply, irritation starting to crawl around under her skin. How could you even compare the two? Just thinking about it felt wrong. ]

Weird thing is I feel like y'all would be way more Weaver-aligned than Wyrm-aligned, if anything. The Wyrm abhors static and unchanging things. It wants to destroy. The Weaver, though, she's all about putting something in amber and keeping it that way forever. And yet...

cw: mentions of suicide/self-harm

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