[Sanda] :: LOG :: Our Recently Departed Alpha

[gmlogbox]

Characters: Heather, Nolan, Sandra, Thomas, Yael
Location: Caern - Stone Firepit
Time: 7/14/2017 - Night - Half Moon (Waning)

Summary: Sandra arrives back a the sept to discover that Thane has abandoned ship. Meets Heather and Thomas along the way.

The young man doesn't rise at her approach, but he does lift his head, turning enough to catch sight of the new arrival. "Well, hey," he says by way of greeting before letting his head fall back to the stone bench, and he lifts a hand in a lazy wave.

"Hey," Heather answers, raising a hand in kind and adjusting course towards the fire properly. "Quiet night?" There's a pause before she asks that, as if she wasn't even really sure what else to say and so that got let out of the barn by default.

Nolan grins and pulls himself up to a seated position as Heather approaches. "Thus far," he says. "Just waiting to see what happens as the shoes drop."

"Shoes...?" Heather tilts her head, perhaps not entirely sure what to make of the statement, but curious enough to ask. She picks out a natural stone seat of her own, one that faces Nolan as best she can select while still only being a reasonably conversational distance from him. She sits as lightly as she walks, giving just a hint of perhaps worrying she'll break her seat.

"This place," Nolan says with a sweep of his hand. "Constant source of surprises, often with teeth." He grins, and glances toward the flames before returning. "Leadership has been an interesting piece to watch for the last several months, and I am very curious about the next move."

Seems there's another onlooker skulking around the perimeter of the clearing, making no real attempt at covering their presence. Might be the shoes comment that draws their attention, as well, as there's a pause in the sound of snapping twigs underfoot, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps.
Doesn't take long for the firelight to unveil identity, the rarely seen and even less sociable Shadow Lord making her presence known with little more than an incline of her head to those present once (or rather, if) attention is turned her way. Further, there's a slight lift of her chin at the mention of leadership; less of a haughty move and more at-attention, brow raising.
"Have there been any new developments I was previously unaware of?" she asks, without any immediate introduction.

Mention of leadership makes Heather put her lower lip between her teeth. Whatever thought that portends, however, is spared it's moment out in the open by Sandra's question from outside Heather's immediate vicinity - which proves far more interesting. She gives a lift of her chin to acknowledge the other's arrival, and verbally lays in wait for the answer to Sandra's query.

Nolan looks over at the new arrival and offers her a grin as well. He reaches down for one of the sticks beside him and breaks off about a six inch length from one end. "Well," he says. "In a new and different move, our now former Alpha seems to have chosen to depart. And, in true, uh--" He cuts off, looking from Sandra to Heather and back. "Uh, true tribal fashion, seems intent to exert his control even in his absence, naming a successor rather than letting a someone step up and take the reins."

Sandra's brows raise considerably at the news. No matter how subdued she keeps her expression, the surprise is palpable. "Depart," she repeats, the comment on tribal fashion not seeming to phase her, though-- really, all things considered... "No explanations?" follows, though she doesn't seem to expect that there were.

This is also news to Heather, and her interest goes from something in the vicinity of 'I might learn something about things' to 'Wait..... /what/?' Nolan has her undivided attention now, and the Cliath remains silent.

The sounds of approach are rather rapid before a fairly small, nearly-black wolf can be spotted near to the entrance of the caern and makes her way down towards the others gathered. Not so much as that she was in a hurry (for all that she's been scarcely seen for months) as much as that the conversation clearly has her interest as well. Gathers-Strength chuffs a quick greeting and one ear tilts towards Sandra, but Nolan has the Strider's attention.

The first bit of the stick is tossed into the flames and for a moment Nolan seems content to examine the end of the part he still holds. "Said it was 'personal'," he says after a beat, and then returns his focus to the other two. "Just said Mouse was in charge, and he was leaving." He shakes his head with a littl laugh. "Maybe we were too much for him."

Sandra's expression darkens somewhat at the continued confirmation, though it's arguable that it's no one thing that's *said* that does it, so much as the overall concept. No; she doesn't like this at all. "Maybe so," she says, clearly turning that one over in her head, "but I never took him for a coward," tone suggesting that 'coward' might not be the first word to spring to mind.

For her own part, Heather seems torn between a number of immediate reactions, which - again - she does not elect to say outloud. The chuff of Gathers-Strength's greeting pulls her attention briefly and that is perhaps how her evening will go: her attention ping ponging from new face to new face as she takes in the evening's revelations.

The Strider makes a face, a very homid lupine equivalent of a frown, followed by a shift up and into her birth form and not bothering to take a seat. "He just up and left," she repeats, not bothering to mask the emotion-- a mixture of disbelief and displeasure-- from her voice as she says so. And then she shakes her head. "And here I thought my tribe were the ones who were known for doing that."

Nolan laughs again, rising and shoving the rest of his stick into the fire before lifting both hands in a helpless gesture. He gives the Strider an acknowledging nod, and then looks back to the others. "I cannot answer for himself. He's been odd in so many ways. But it's all very interesting."

"Interesting," Sandra repeats, that simmering temper kept well in check even if it's partly audible, expression relaxing a touch more before she turns her head to offer Yael a more respectful nod. Her gaze ultimately flicks back to Nolan to say, "I suppose it falls under that definition, yes. Though there are a few others that come to mind." There's a pause. Then, to Heather, she says, "Under the circumstances, I hope you can forgive the lack of decorum," this noted somewhat dryly; then, sobering, "but I don't believe we've been introduced before." Beat. "Sandra Ulrich. Fostern Philodox. Shadow Lords."

As Gathers-Strength shifts, the commotion draws Heather's attention and there's a moment of recognition that comes a few seconds after the whole affair's complete. As Sandra makes her introduction, Heather givs a hand gesture that makes light of way in which the elder philodox' decorum might be found wanting. "Heather Badawi," she responds, "Cliath Philodox. Black Furies." She matches cadence and tonality to Sandra's own introduction. "And ummmm... pardon the new girl," She says, indicating herself, "But... who's Mouse?"

Yael offers Sandra a half a smile-- or at least what passes for a smile during the half moon-- and then the same towards Heather. "The Glass Walker elder, if I'm not mistaken," Yael offers. "Although I've never met her myself." She squints, and relaxes just a touch. "So... Mouse is in charge now? That's rather irregular." A beat passes. "Even for a rather irregular place such as this." The Strider shakes her head. "Not that I'd think of claiming it myself," she adds.

Nolan rakes a hand back through his hair, a grin tugging at one corner of his lips. "Mouse is also a Theurge, and athro, if I'm not mistaken. But I gather she, like the rest of us, have noticed the oddity in the, uh, appointment. She's turned it down. She'll help out, for now, but doesn't intend to make it a permanent thing." He tips his head from one side to the other, stretching his neck, and then retakes his seat on the bench. "Nolan, by the way," he says, apparently of himself, adding his introduction to the mix. "Cliath ragabash of the Fianna."

The Fury's introduction earns another acknowledging incline of Sandra's head, as much an unspoken 'well met' as one can offer. Again, under the circumstances. She's still not in a particularly good mood; less so, when the question of the defacto Alpha's identity is discussed as something of an unknown to all but one participant. There's some relaxation that comes with the talk of Mouse having turned down the appointment, even if there's a light snort to come of it, followed by, "He wasn't exactly charitable in his descriptions of her when he first mentioned her to me. I somehow doubt the appointment was made in good faith." Her brow raises-- followed by a slight shake of her head, whatever comes to mind set aside for the time being. "All the more reason to turn it down."

Whistling can be heard coming through the trees. It's close, a little closer than one might expect if the whistler has been going for some time, and the tune is unfamiliar. There are footsteps accompanying the whistling; these are light, but audible. And like the sound of the whistling, they seem a little too close to only be audible just now. Their owner isn't visible yet.

Yael finally sits down, although the whistling gets a glance. It's familiar enough to not cause any pause in the process of sitting down. "So what /else/ have I missed?" comes the question, although whether it's addressed to either of the other two Garou is uncertain. More addressed to the air. "It took a lot longer to make my way back here than I had entirely anticipated, when I left."

Nolan looks toward the sound and his grin broadens. "It's me!" he says, apparently of whomever is walking through the woods. Despite the excitement in his tone, the volume is subdued. Then he returns to the others, a shrug offered at Sandra's pronouncement. "I'm not sure what you've missed," he says to Yael. "I'm still trying to find a strong enough spirity-inclined group to go help me talk to a rock."

Sandra's own attention is rather quickly claimed by the whistling, Nolan's exclamation earning a glance as she tracks - or, more correctly, *tries* to track the sound. And just when it seems she's ready to turn to Yael and make a comment of her own on having been away for an unexpected amount of time, the Fianna's last statement draws her attention with a, "Pardon?"

The man who ambles out of the trees does not actually look anything at all like Nolan, perhaps to the disappointment (or relief) of various people present. Thomas tips his old, battered hat as he draws nearer, the whistle dying on his lips. He seems to deem the silent greeting enough for now though, as he doesn't say anything to interrupt the current conversation.

Yael nods towards Thomas in greeting, and then spends the remainder of that moment settling. Although very little if any of the tension goes away, but there wasn't really very much to begin with. "I don't know that many theurges around these parts," she says, and then falls silent herself.

"Rock," Nolan says to Sandra, as though that should clarify everything. His attention then goes to Thomas, and he offers the other man a nod before returning to Sandra. "There's an old spirit we need to talk to," he says. "It's apparently currently asleep. It's very, very old, and very, very asleep, so... We need people good with spirits to wake it up so we can have a conversation."

The newly arrived Thomas gets a curious look as Sandra listens to the answer that's put forward, though she offers a similarly wordless greeting with an otherwise respectful nod. The attention she affords him is that of someone accustomed to putting more scrutiny into a first meeting, but, ultimately, it's split between him and Nolan. And while, yes, his initial answer doesn't gets the wheels turning, what he amends is enough to lend some clarity. "I'd heard about this, I think," she says. "Something to do with the 'Nothing,' wasn't it?" A pause. "I've been absent for roughly as long as Shai-Nefer, I think," she notes, deferring to Yael's less personal title for the time being, "so some of the details may have slipped my memory. That said: I may not be of much assistance in the awakening process itself, but I can at least assist to bolster the defenses of those that are, if need be."

"Exactly how old's 'old'?" Thomas asks. No interruption, perhaps, but now he's simply jumping in. "Ain't something I'm familiar with in the particulars, but when I've seen that sort've thing done in the past, what you need more'n anything once you've got someone to do the ritual itself is enough bodies with enough spiritual energy to start fueling the whole deal. No need for 'em to be schooled in it, at least, you just need Wolves to show up." A beat. "Or Wolves and Others, if'n the need arises, I suppose. Gnosis is Gnosis."

"Well," Yael adds, after Thomas finishes, "the latter part of that I /can/ help with, as long as there's a day or two of notice so I don't wander off right before it's supposed to be going on." She shrugs. "It's two-fold," she says. "Both of you are right. Enough people to defend those doing the ritual from whatever nasty shows up, and enough people with enough Gnosis to actually pull it off."

"The other half of it," Nolan says in answer to Sandra. "A spirit old enough that it might know about the pair that are causing this problem." He shifts his focus to Thomas and nods. "One of the benefits of the, uh, change in leadership. I'm hoping now that it's not forbidden, or at least frowned upon, we'll get some people willing to make the trek."

To her credit, Sandra does her best not to look bemused by the accent that comes out of Thomas when he finally speaks, even if she doesn't quite succeed. Manages to temper it rather quickly, though. And while she seems to have some thoughts on the matter, Nolan again manages to derail her completely. Again, there's incredulity, but this she wears openly. "I'm sorry?" she says. "'Frowned upon?'"

Thomas seems to catch at least some of that look, or at least that seems to be the best explanation for why he gives Sandra a small wink before he meanders his way a little further into the Caern. He finds a good spot of ground that he seems to favor, and sits himself down easily, cross-legged, where for the moment he's quiet again and listening.

The Strider doesn't seem to have anything to add at the moment. She's clearly listening to the continuing conversation, although her attention veers towards dusting off her clothing somewhat-- most of which is more worn than usual.

"Well," Nolan says, as he reaches down to pick up another stick. "The first time I brought it up, I was absolutely forbidden to pursue it." He laughs, shaking his head. "I wouldn't have let it stop me, but. Not a theurge. And I couldn't get anyone to come along. Later on the ban was lifted, but it still seemed to be an unpopular idea with himself, so I took that as the reason I had few takers on the trip planning."
Sky pages: Talk happened. Or, well, didn't. We got a couple other logs with some pretty egregious stuff and decided to pull the plug. Asked him to pop over for a chat. He said, "I don't have the brainspace for drama," and logged out.

While the wink isn't entirely missed, Sandra's sole focus has clearly shifted to the Ragabash, "At the risk of sounding redundant," said in reply, "and of asking a potentially stupid question, was there any explanation given?" She glances between Thomas and Nolan, the former not necessarily lumped in with the latter as having had a longer tenure than her, but it doesn't hurt to check if it's ringing any bells. "I realize that there were other threats the sept was facing at the time, so I can understand the need to prioritize, but to actively discourage a possible course of action even after the threat is pacified?" A pause. "Was this a continuing trend with him?"

Thomas offers an unhelpful shrug. "Ain't entirely sure who we're discussing at this point."

Yael shrugs, and finishes dusting off her pants enough that she moves towards getting the dust out of the sleeves of her shirt. Successfully, no less, but all that means is that it creates a cloud of dust that settles right back on her. "I've been in or around Casablanca since mid-May," she offers, with a grin that suggests that the statement might be unhelpful on purpose.

Nolan prods at the coals and embers beneath the flames with the end of his stick, looking up to Sandra to give a shake of his head. "I have no idea. It could just be that he didn't like me in particular," he says with a grin. "He wasn't particularly interested in explaining himself." He gives a glance to Thomas, the grin still in place. "We're talking about our recently departed alpha."

The arch of Sandra's brow at the initial speculation suggests she doesn't find this to be sufficient reason, but this likely comes as a surprise to no one, given her reactions so far. Might also be the moon exaggerating things somewhat, but-- "He never struck me as being quite so risk-averse," she says. She frowns, then, approaching the fire a bit more, herself, though she doesn't yet take a seat. "Then again, he didn't strike me as the type to abandon his post and responsibilities, either, so I suppose there's still room for more surprises."

Thomas's own eyebrows arch as well. "...Seems I've missed some news," he remarks. "So judging by what she's saying, that ain't 'departed' as in 'dearly departed', it's 'departed' as in 'up and left town'." It doesn't really sound like a question. "'Fraid we didn't have too many dealings. Not enough for me to be able to say why he'd be upset about you wanting to talk to an old rock spirit."

For a moment, Yael opens her mouth, and then shuts it again, pauses, and then speaks. Her guard is back up to about its usual amount, and the words are careful and measured. "He never struck me as the type to particularly share his reasoning, the few times I spoke with him," Yael says, and shrugs. "In any case-- do let me know when you're going to talk to that rock. It sounds interesting." She yawns. "But I ran about eighteen hundred kilometre to get here today, so I think I'm going to get some sleep."

Nolan gives a glance upward, squinting at the moon. "Might be best to wait for a larger moon. I think I'll start gathering the mob and plan to head up in a couple weeks."
Sky pages: Yup!

"It's good to see you back, in any case," Sandra says to Yael. "Rest well." She falls silent for a moment after that, clearly still turning things over her in her head before she says, "The only possible reason I can think for disallowing such an undertaking," this in part to Thomas, "much less forbidding it, is being privy to information that we, or rather you, weren't. Some downside to it that far outweighed any benefit. If he was vindictive enough to withhold that information on account of, say," she looks to Nolan, "not being particularly fond of someone, there may still be something we don't know." She considers for a moment longer. Then, "If there's any caches of his that either of you are familiar with, they'd be helpful to know about. I should be able to at least speak with my superiors about anything that may have slipped the sept's notice, if need be. But, again, this is assuming that we're dealing with the man whose reputation spoke for him, not the one that turned tail and ran-- so it may very well be nothing."

The Strider nods once, and then shifts back to lupus, jumping back up to resume her seat near the fire, tail curling around her, and without further adieu (or further interaction at all really) puts her head down to sleep.

"Wouldn't surprise me," Thomas says. There's something...unfriendly in how he says that. Something that doesn't mesh right with the man who only a minute ago had winked and whistled and generally been very amiable and easy going. It doesn't mesh with the easy way he's sitting either, or his otherwise casual expression. "But as I said, 'fraid I didn't know the man himself well enough to be able to help. Only spoke now and then."

Nolan gives the departing Strider a wave before returning to the others. "Nothing that I've come across would suggest it," he says, "but it wouldn't be out of character for the man." He shrugs, a small laugh following the gesture. "We have a bit of time before it makes sense to even try, though, so it might be worth poking around. My strength as a ragabash is less about snooping than some other things, but I'll see what I can find."

The shift in temperment is noted, though Sandra's hardly going to begrudge the man the response, given her own-- even if the mix is an odd one. She nods at what's said, her gaze shifting over to Nolan as he speaks, and once he's finished: "I'd say 'asking questions' would be a suitable strength, in this case, but if the sept knows you as someone Thane was unhappy with at the best of times, you wouldn't get honest answers anyway." A pause. "I'm unfortunately in the same boat you are," she says to Thomas. "I'm aware of his history, and his reputation, as I said, but I only got a couple opportunities to speak to the man personally." A pause. Then, "And as I said to Heather, you'll have to forgive the lack of decorum, as I don't believe *we've* spoken much, either. Sandra Ulrich. Fostern Philodox. Shadow Lords."

Thomas doesn't stand up, but he does tip his hat again. "Name's Thomas Lee. Uktena kin, among other things. Ain't real aware of his history or reputation, beyond a few encounters here. Which were more're less polite, you could say."

Nolan, on the other hand, does rise, and grins to each of the others. "Might be worth asking, anyway," he says, "if only to find out how people respond. I think I'm going to head out, my own self. Get some sleep and start poking around in the morning."

'Among other things' gets a curious raise of Sandra's brow, though it seems more a phrase that she's filing away for later, his introduction, like Heather's, met with an acknowledging incline of her head. "Pleased to meet you," she says, "though I wish it could've been under better circumstances." She gives a nod to Nolan, then, and says, "Let me know what you find, if you could," refraining from making it an outright order. "I'll likely have some of my own questions to follow up with." A pause. "And I'd say 'thank you for getting me up to date,' but I'm not sure I can manage gratitude, at the moment," this said somewhat dryly. "Take care, in any event. And sleep well."

"Suppose I shouldn't linger," Thomas muses. "Was only looking to check in, and there're a few other things that need checking before I can call it a night." He draws up a knee, but doesn't yet stand up. Nolan gets a hat tip. "Feeling's mutual," he says back to Sandra. "I take it this's leaving you in a particularly awkward sort of place right now."

Nolan gives a nod to each of the others, followed by a lazy, two-fingered salute. "Take care," he says, and with that, he heads out. His own whistling starts up just as he heads out of sight.

While Nolan gets an acknowledging nod, the remark from Thomas actually gets Sandra to crack a smile, even if it is humorless, her gaze shifting to the fire for a moment. "Only in the sense that I should have asked to stay where I was when I was requested elsewhere," she says. "Clearly, I missed a number of things that I shouldn't have. I won't make that mistake again." A pause. She looks back at him, and says, "Aside from that, it is what it is. Only thing we can do now is move forward. And if the sept's reputation isn't as misleading as its leader's was, it seems more than capable of doing just that." Another pause. Another slight raise of her brow, "...It isn't, is it?" said dryly.

Thomas pushes up from his sit, dusting off his pants as he does so. "If'n there's one thing I've learned since I first came here," he says, "it's that this place's reputation doesn't quite do it justice sometimes. It'll surprise you in funny ways. Good ways, usually, even if it can be a whole hell've a lot of aggravation too. There're solid reasons it's still around and kicking when every other Sept around it is gone. One Alpha taking off won't harm it. It's had plenty of that nonsense before."

"I'd be far more concerned if I ran into a sept that *wasn't* aggravating," Sandra replies, still affecting the dry tone. It fades when she continues, "Still," said once she's 'sobered,' "it's good to know. And given what I've just heard, it may be for the best that things shook out the way they did." Another pause; another moment's consideration, followed by a slight shake of her head. "My head's going a mile a minute with this nonsense," she says. "You let me keep talking, and I probably will." Not quite her usual, but then, this isn't a usual night. "So-- probably best not to let me keep you."

Thomas offers a faint grin, and the same tip of the hat that he just gave Nolan a few moments ago. "I'll be about. You take care've yourself in the meantime. Get some rest when your thoughts slow." He turns to leave, and starts heading in that direction. No whistling, just an unhurried, ambling pace.