Calling Grandfather Thunder

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Calling Grandfather Thunder

Postby InleRah » Wed Mar 07, 2012 1:03 am

(UMBRA, Walker Tenement Roof)
(Kaz, Mouse & Lefty - Cameo by GT and the Stormcrows)

Up atop the tenement roof, Kaz has camped out, on a night that is forecast to, if not rain (given the current cold conditions), at least to precipitate. She has been meditating for hours. She brought a bowl of water, and a torch that she placed in a stray flower pot. (And some noisemakers and a tambourine, in case Lefty wants to join in later.) She also brought her flute. She sits, and meditates, until just about the time it starts to snow. And then she stands without the slightest trace of her currently habitual bumbling. It's almost, but not quite, graceful. She stands, watching the night. Then, as snow falls on her face, she starts to play. It is not a contemplative Jazz rhythm. It's a call, a paen, a dark, driving sound that integrates elements of thunder, lightning; it calls against rhythm of the current snow, and calls it to become stronger, fiercer, windier. She calls it to clash. And she keeps playing.

Mouse is no musician, but she echoes Kaz's activities up until that point. There's a frenetic energy about her, despite how tired she looks, and her eyes look a little too bright tonight. When the flute playing begins, she keeps her eyes on the sky, and begins chanting low under her breath. It's mostly rhythmic, trying to match and reinforce Kaz's playing, rather than sound under or over it. Now and then, however, she's deliberately offbeat, and her voice becomes harsher. Unsurprisingly, it's Latin that she's speaking, but tonight doesn't sound like any kind of prayer one might hear in church. It's angrier. Far from pleasant.

Lefty's leaning against the wall to the staircase that leads to the roof. When Kaz brings out the tambourine, she perks up. Shuffling over, she picks it up and joins Mouse and Kaz. The Gnawer slaps it against her thigh in rhythm with the playing of the other two garou. Like Mouse, she looks to the sky, but the ragabash's looks are more furtive and wary than they are expectant.

The snow is light, and the night bitter cold. But there's no wind, and the city's night seems muted and quiet. At least at first. As the garous' song grows louder and angrier, there is a distant echo which can't quite be pinpointed. The low clouds are impossible in the dark to recognize as normal or thunderous. They are a sheet of perpetual grey. But then a flicker of light behind one flashes in the east. Then another, followed by four more in quick succession. Their echoing thunder is not distant at all. It's as present and ominous as any ever heard.

Kaz plays, as the echo resounds. Kaz plays, as the light flickers. Kaz plays, as the thunder claps. She plays, as this builds; and just after the four flashes, she throws the flute away, uncaring where it lands. And she falls into crinos. She stands for one moment, and then, confidence roils out of her like a rainstorm. She's every inch the Adren Galliard, with the dominance and the arrogance that can imply. This is a performance, and a clear one. She lets that resound a moment, then she takes the water bowl and sprinkles it around the torch. She paces around the torch, a circle spiraling outwards, expanding it until she breaks the pacing, water dashed to the ground as she stands, staring at the skies. And then she calls. ~Grandfather Thunder! Patron of the skies and winds! Patron of the thunder the the lightning! Patron of rains, torrents, and storms! Patron of all who revel in the wind and the quick strikes! And, lastly, finally, patron of your tribe, of the Lords of Shadow, of those who call to you as their Father! I call you on their behalf, Grandfather! Come! Come now!~

Mouse pulls something from her coat pocket, something small and carefully wrapped in cloth, and then shifts up as well. She stands tall, neck fur hackling, lips peeling away from her teeth. While the Theurge says nothing, there's a hint of that angry chanting in her low, rumbling growls, building as Kaz calls.

Lefty's furtive glances shift now equally between Kaz, Mouse, and the sky. The ragabash takes a step back, but her hand continues to rap the tambourine against the thigh. When the others take crinos, she too shifts and blurs up into the war form. Her hand turns into talon and claw, gripping the tiny tambourine almost too tightly.

The light show in the sky continues, grows, until the sky is more alight than dark. And in turn, the wind picks up. The snow swirls, coming in sheets now. It's hard to see. The clamoring thunder is mixed with the raucous call of birds--dozens, maybe more of them. And then the birds themselves burst out of the storm of snow. Their black wings disrupt the snow. One lands above and behind Lefty, beady eyes bearing down on the ragabash. Another lands near the satellite dish. Four more line the roof's wall edge. Two more circle above. And one very large one lands in front of Kaz and gives a rather thunderous caw.

Kaz watches the birds, eyes alight; she remains the Adren Galliard, back straight and carriage proud; but there is just a hint of enjoyment there, as well. And then, as the largest one lands in front of her, she says, -Ave-, in the tongue of beasts, and she watches it. She watches it for several, very long moments, watching it with a predatory kind of grace almost alien to her; and then, her dominance disappears like water. She doesn't kneel, but she bows her head to it, to all of them. ~Crows of storm, you will take our words, our promises, and our intent back to the Grandfather?~

First-Strike bows her head when Kaz does, ears slicked back. Her eyes do not look away from the birds.

Lefty catches sight of the stormcrow behind her, and like a typical Bone gnawer, she doesn't like the feeling of being surrounded. A curse is muttered under her breath, and she crouches into a coiled, ready position, her crinos body twitchy and nervous, Yet, even so, the ragabash flashes teeth to make sure the stormcrow spirits know she's a predator.

Above the tenement, the sky swims in a maelstrom of cloud, light, and snow. Thunder continues to rumble and echo all around them. Because of that, the Shadows shift, and it's hard to tell what is real and what is not. The birds continue to circle. The ones that have landed eye each garou with what at least /feels/ like black malice. The one in front of Kaz spits out another caw, angry and violent. *Father is unhappy.*

<OOC> Kaz: Can I understand it, or do we go with Mouse Translation Services?
<OOC> Lefty assumed Mouse would translate.
<OOC> First-Strike does, yus. Assume.
<OOC> Kaz: Bueno.

~Yes,~ Kaz says, wryness laced throughout that one word. ~I can only imagine.~ And then her words are shadowed with anger, not on her behalf, but on Thunder's. ~A Garou of his people, gone to the Wyrm, rejecting His teachings. A Garou of His Chosen Tribe, who destroyed a Caern of His people. A Garou of His people, /laughing/ at Him. I can... truly only imagine.~ Kaz's face has become grim. ~We wish to seek him out. Harry him. We wish to destroy him, swiftly and without mercy, and let him know at the last /who/ it is that is destroying him. Not us; we would be but instruments. No, it is not us destroying him, but Thunder.~ She glances at Mouse, then. ~And Mouse... has ideas, I think. Mouse has /plans/.~

First-Strike's lips pull further away from her teeth, a feral wolf grin that is anything but pleasant. Once she has finished translating for Kaz, she adds her own contribution. *Ideas, yes, if it pleases you. He has sent a hunter after his brother and his nephew. It is not enough that he has done all these things, /now/ he seeks to steal a cub from you. His hunter even claims him as /his/ now. He dares to make demands of your tribe, as if they were servants to be ordered about, demands that they should give up their own to the Wyrm's clutches.* She lifts the small, cloth wrapped object. *I have brought a symbol of his betrayal of you and his own blood. Skin of the cub that he would steal from you, the mark that he and his blasphemous allies put on /your/ child, the mark of their attempted theft. As Ears-to-the-Ground says, I have ideas, if you would hear them.*

Lefty eyes the sky, eyes the birds, and eyes Kaz. The ragabash blinks snow out of her eyes and breaths out a huff of cloudy breath that's immediately lost in the wind. Her lip remains curled, canines showing.

As Kaz talks, the skies grow even more violent. Then, almost at the instant Kaz finishes speaking, the sky splits. An ear shattering and air tearing bolt of lightning strikes the roof. It destroys the satellite dish, leaving nothing but a smoking ruin. The stormcrow spirit perched atop it is sent realing into the air to join his brothers. The other stormcrows seem unaffected. The stormcrow in front of Kaz listens to the galliard's words, and when Mouse is mentioned, it cocks its head to the Walker. He seems unmoved by the sudden shattering lightning and thunder. Despite the wind, the air of the roof wreaks of ozone, and the three crinos' fur stands on end. Lefty lets out another loud epithet that's lost to the snow and wind. *Speak!* The stormcrow spits out again, their words only seeming to anger the bird even more--wether or not it be aimed at the garou here.

Kaz doesn't bother with macho, or control; Kaz jumps about a foot to the left (away from the satellite dish), when the lightning comes. ~Jesus fuck,~ she mutters, in what seems to be entirely pleased awe; and then she watches Mouse.

First-Strike doesn't quite jump, but it clearly takes all of her effort, and every last strand of fur seems to be standing on end at the end of it. Her eyes, if anything, look even brighter as she responds. *Let this traitor taste his own work. He sent hunters after your people, let him be hunted. He spies on your people, let him be spied. He has betrayed your people to their deaths and corruption, let him hear the voices of those murdered dead no matter how hard he tries to deafen himself, at all times, in all places, whether waking or sleeping.* She unwraps the piece of skin--it has been preserved and dried, with the Shadow Lord glyph carved over the mark the Dancers originally left--and holds it up. *And let him know it! Let him never rest, let him never be warm, let him see danger and threat in every shadow, on every wall, behind every tree. Let him hear the calls of your stormcrows in the voices of his new, twisted allies, until paranoia drives him from even them, and let all know the true /price/ of betraying Grandfather Thunder!*

<OOC> First-Strike: Translation: Let him hallucinate like whoa.
<OOC> First-Strike: In fact, can I add an actual IC clarification?
<OOC> Lefty: absolutely.
<OOC> Kaz: Er, sure!

First-Strike brings her teeth together with a vicious snap, *Great Grandfather Thunder, let the madness that I have intimately known this past month come to him, tenfold, and let him know your hand is in every imagined danger, every non-existent curse, every shadowy figment, every dreamed up plot that it brings him. Let your wrath make the derangements of his own Dance pale in comparison.*

Kaz can't help it; she says, ~Dude,~ in some awe.

<OOC> First-Strike: And for OOC infos sake, I've been trying to replicate a milder form of paranoid schizophrenia. So this would be, um, less mild. :) By a lot. Especially since Nick undid a lot of it. Dunno if it's been done right, but yeah.

The rumble of thunder that followed the lightning strike rolls across the blackened sky. There is another strike, but this one hits further away. It's awe is not much lessened for it, though. The stormcrows grow agitated. Several take to the air and circle above the garou with the others in the swirling maelstrom. The feathers on the stormcrow in front of Kaz and Mouse are ruffled and fluttering in the wind and snow, but his eyes are black jewels, fixed on Mouse. Another strike hits somewhere in the distance, and Grandfather Thunder's voice rolls and echoes back again. The bird's large, sharp beak parts, and he answers the Walker with, *This dog deserves no less.*

Kaz bares her teeth. ~/Indeed/,~ she says, fiercely. She glances at Mouse, as if to ask, 'Are you done?' but doesn't say anything further until it's crystal clear the theurge is, actually, finished with her business.

First-Strike's own teeth glitter in the flashes of lightning. She inclines her head very slightly to Kaz, the skin in her hand being lowered and held out in front of her, rather than over her head.

As angry as the stormcrow has seemed during all this, right now, he shows as utter patience. His head cocks and turns from Gnawer to Mouse and back again, waiting in the wind and snow like a statue until Kaz speaks again. All around the world is a never-ending storm.

At this, Kaz starts to talk. She paces as she talks, less angry and less passionate than Mouse, now. ~Your stormcrows, as I understand it, will not be put in the talens that we Garou fashion, for it is beneath Your dignity. But there is an entity that we would like found. There is an entity that bedevils us, who comes from this Gerik. Gerik, we can track, because we know his name, and I plan to find him soon. But this hunter, the one who calls the hounds who seek for the cub of Your tribe... I would like to be able to find him. I do not ask to send the stormcrow at random, nor do I ask for this stormcrow to spy for long periods of time or make itself obvious; no, simply, at the time and the place that we choose, one or Your people will seek this hunter out, so that we may do similar, and bring our gathered might upon this spirit of the Wyrm. If there is a crow of storms who chooses to do this, I will give to it my energies for three months; and I will kill something for it, as and how it chooses, presuming it does not further the Wyrm or endanger the Sept.~

The spirit's liquid black eyes remain on Kaz, unblinking. Several of the birds begin to screech and caw into the storm. The one before Kaz lets out a raucous call that silences the others. All its feathers flair, making the spirit that much larger. *You need seek no further. I will do this, for Father, and for my brothers. Call when it's time, and I will be there.* Without waiting for a response, its huge wings unfold and it lifts from the ground. Talons reach out with skill and snatch the skin from Mouse's hand. In an instant, the crow has it in its beak and gulped down its gullet. The spirit rises into the maelstrom, joining the other black silhouettes in the blinding snow. A bolt of lightning streaks out of the vortex, strikes the bird, and sends a blinding flash across the sky. when eyes can see again, the storm is gone, the birds are gone, and the wind is dying. The snow once again begins to drift rather than fly, and six black feathers float down among the white flakes, to land at Mouse and Kaz's feet.

Kaz salutes the bird before it starts off, in clear and silent thanks. She watches it go, and forces herself to watch the lightning. Eyes dazzled, she shakes her head, looking down for a bit of time. And then she crouches, to pick up the feathers. She offers three of them, in her right hand, to Mouse, still silent.

First-Strike accepts the feathers solemnly, and uses the cloth wrapping she had kept the skin in to wrap them up, careful not to damage any part of them.

Lefty looks up from her crouch, eyes wide. ~Fuck,~ she says, hesitantly straightening from that 'cower' with all the dignity she can muster. ~The next time you guys invite me to a party, remind me to decline in favor of a night at home with popcorn and an old movie.~ She snorts out a huff in the cold air and turns toward the stairs.

First-Strike offers, entirely innocent, ~The Wizard of Oz?~

Kaz merely puts her feathers in one of her coat pockets. ~Geez, Lefty, you do that, you'll /never/ have any fun.~

Lefty offers a brief glare to Mouse, the expression fighting with the amusement in the ragabash's faint grin. She blurs back down to her homid form to fit through the stairwell door, waving her hand and answering Kaz with mock laugh. "Hah. Hah."

Kaz melts down into homid (from glabro) slowly. "I got a broad definition of fun, mind you."

First-Strike eases down into homid as well, still cradling those feathers. She gives one final glance to the sky before turning for the stairs.
InleRah wizard of spirits, umbra, totems and fetishes
current pcs: Lefty, Phoebe
past pcs: Joseph, Signe, Merin, Laura, Various kin
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