piper90 | [Video]

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...

Kindred have those who claim we were born from divine will and action too. That doesn't make either party not beings made of otherness – or convenient to slot neatly into one designated slot.

[She offers a one sided shrug.]

It's almost as if it's a false dichotomy. Death, rebirth, growth, creation and order from chaos. Those are all necessary aspects to life – and despite whatever you may think of us, we are living, if not alive.

It's not a "false dichotomy!" It's imbalance.

[ Kenzie lifts her hands and even adds finger quotes to the term. ]

It's supposed to be a triad. Three forces working in harmony. The Wyld creates, the Weaver gives order, the Wyrm destroys that which is no longer needed. But the Weaver got tired of all her pretty webs getting eaten by the Wyrm and trapped him. He went mad and instead of just destroying that which needs it, now the Wyrm wants to destroy everything.

[ At least that's the version Mackenzie was told. ]

Which definitely makes vampires way more of a Weaver thing, if I think about it. So why do so many of you reek of Wyrm? You're stuck between two different states of being. Maybe it's because the Wyrm is always trying to chew on you...?

[ Kenzie is no scholar, so she's just spitballing. ]

[ She doesn't look terribly impressed.]
So you're proposing that we stink of being metaphysical chewtoys, and somehow that's our fault? Truly, the compassion of Gaia's warriors is mighty.

That's not entirely how it was explained to me, however. The triat, yes – the Wyld, making nothing, never dying. Is, but cannot make. The Weaver, makes, but cannot be. The Wyrm who returns what is to be forged anew. All of them corrupted, all of them lost and turned upon another. A temple with only two pillars cannot remain standing. How can you kill any of the triat without killing Gaia herself? How could any of the three be fallen unless all were?

[She smiles bleakly.]

It was not a terribly cheerful conversation. But it certainly makes more sense from my perspective that what is imbalanced in one part of the cycle is necessarily so broken in the rest. However convenient a scapegoat one might make.

It's a theory, I didn't say it was true.

[ Kenzie lets out an angry huff of breath, settles her hands at her hips as she gathers her thoughts. ]

Fuckin--, I was always told leeches are of the Wyrm. And y'all stink like the Wyrm, too, so that's just the facts. I just thought since y'all are never changing, maybe you come from the Weaver. Not my fault you all fucking stink!

[ She throws her hands up helplessly, as if there was nothing she could do about. ]

And yeah, it's out of balance, because the fucking Wyrm got driven mad by the Weaver. They're both out of balance! And then the Wyld, too, because Wyld is getting eaten up by Weaver and the Wyrm!

[ Kenzie sucks a breath through her, practically snorting. She can feel an itch of anger running across her skin and she tries to clamp down on it. ]

And yeah, we're fucking idiots for thinking that we could put it back right. Fuck!

[ Her hands clench into fists. ]

She's still our Mother! We still have to fucking try, even if all we can do is prolong the inevitable for just one more day.

[ Her hand slaps against her chest, angry tears stinging the corners of her eyes. ]

That's it! That's all we have left to give Her is our lives, even if it's hopeless. Of course I know how fucking broken the Triat is! I've seen what every one of them does. The web-choked gauntlet in the cities, the stink of chemicals poured on virgin land and, the way poison fucking tastes in people's water. Wild spaces disappearing every year.

[ She growls, low in her throat. ]

We know it's broken. There's just things you have to tell yourself to keep going when you have a beating fuckin' heart.

Edited 2020-11-04 04:07 (UTC)

[Her expression is largely impassive through this rant, as she carefully does not interrupt – but Beatrice does take a half step back, angling closer to the exit again. Just in case.]

So long as you do know the truth. But why does it always come down to your lives?

I do not hold anyone idiots or mad for attempting to put right what once was broken – but I do charge martyrdom as an ill-fitting substitute. I don't believe that one's blood watering the earth has more value than their life...and what madness is, as the saying goes, is attempting the same action over and over and expecting different results.

This is why the truth is paramount above all. Because your battle is not lost yet.

[She turns half away, hands clasped behind her back. As far as Beatrice is concerned, the polite reaction to Emotions (tm) is to pretend not to see them and offer up information instead.]

As for our nature, you're likely correct that we're closer to the Weaver as you would define us. We lived as mortals in her domain, and died and remained unchanging within it as well. If I had to theorize on what rings out to your kind as Wyrmish - [she hesitates] - well. We refer to it as the Beast. A super-charged id, in essence. It knows only the basest instincts - survival, fear, anger. Destruction. To lose control to its scrabbling at the mind is to become a passenger, for the Beast knows not friends from foe, innocence from guilt. A howl of inhumanity that exists in every one of us, always waiting.

The Theurge seemed to think it a familiar description. It is what it is.

[ Kenzie seems to do her best to pull herself back in--to draw in and be a little smaller. She drops to the floor and begins to do push-ups as Bea speaks, trying to drive out excess agitation and energy through sheer movement. She pants as she replies, never slowing. ]

We do what we have to. That's it.

[ Mackenzie doesn't know what else to say. She isn't really a leader, she's just a weapon to be pointed at the enemies of Gaia and let loose. She's made that her identity for years and being asked to look for an alternative aside from 'die for Gaia' makes her uneasy. ]

It's not lost. You're right. We have to keep fighting because there's still hope. I just accept that I'm gonna die one day.

[ Like the rest of her pack. ]

Sounds like Rage.

[ As much as she hates to compare the two. ]

You drop too deep into it, it can bring you in thrall of the Wyrm, make you do things you'd never do ever in your waking mind. The Rage doesn't give a fuck tho. It wants to do what it wants to do.

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sorry i have been sick ;;

it's OKAY. I was last week too.

hell week hell week

Re: hell week hell week