The Melody Remains:A Study in Moments

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Party Crasher
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The Melody Remains:A Study in Moments

Postby Party Crasher » Wed Mar 28, 2018 10:00 pm

*Please note this is pre arrival/backstory related and is subject to change*
August 2013-Charleston SC

The stars' light shimmered off the water as the early morning mist was started to clear. The sound of a fishing rod whirring played on the Philodox's ear. And the sounds of credence then arose from the mp3 play in its waterproof speaker.

“Tommy you know things are going to have to change right.” The two garou had been given a day pass off the Sept as good cubs. Little did they know, or they must have guessed. The Sept of the white tower was an odd duck of a school and a holy place. “Sebastian, you worry too much.”

Sebstation nodded and stared at the bridge as he took a sip of his cold brew. The fianna had been good at his word for the services rendered.

“I mean we just got the tap to go to the upper room as it were and you wanted to suddenly take a fishing trip. “

“I can't wander far man, but I can wander as best I can...feet get itchy.”

“Yeah yeah, and I am going to have my nose all up in some 80's Spielberg flick.” His buddy and personal pain in the ass nodded. “Well I was thinking with your mouth, luck and unwillingness to get into the mix, more like a Jackie Chan flick but who is counting.”

“Tricksters be wisest when they are silent bro.” He growled playfully. He took another long pull on the brew. The ragabash snickered.

“Still you are right, we are going to have to be grown up, well more grown up.” Both garou had changed old, and both had a rebel's heart. The only thing keeping them from starting a riot some days was the harsh and mildly furious glares of the uktena's aunt.

“The old lady had that gleam in her eyes, you know the one before the other shoe drops.”

“I do.”

“Yep, you first, then me.”

He nodded. It would be the last moment they would have together.


Tom made it back for sure...but something changed in him and he gathered his things and started off...no goodbyes no hellos not even one last beer, just eyes that held trauma like a baby bird.

All Sebastian heard from the elders was a quiet. “He knows the paths he walks no friend from his past can follow. “


“Aunt we were going to pack, who chose him so...” The philodox's fairness switch was getting jostled. She patted his knee and sipped her tea and said in a voice that was charm and terror in one smooth accent. “Sebbie, my love, I know you were close, I do...but Owl's wings spread and he and we saw his death, and you...you could have been the reason or the why, or the who, Tommy boy didn't know and his love for you as a friend put him on the road to the dark places, the hidden spaces.”

He had completed his challenge the week before, the negotiations and work had been hard, but not really soul shattering.

“So what about me, I got some silly deed name for ruining a good time had by all, and I am supposed to be a judge of and with secrets.”

The old woman adjusted her shawl as she leaned back and looked to the heavens. Her thin face skeletal in the gloom, like tales he had heard about his grandfather's spiritual kin.

“You know who your blood hold Sebbie, you know that temptations are the tools of both we garou and the wyrm...” His lips tightened. “Yeah Auntie, I remember my first birthday as a changer.”

“Daddy is very very traditional, and you have his heart in spades, the vices and the virtues.”

“You protect the little ones, the ones who can't, but the way you do, well I imagine that one congressman is still smarting from those ads you helped put together.” She tsked, while a follower of the Shadow Lord's patron, the power she chased was that of the spirits and their ilk. The shadow world her chessboard.

He on the other hand was the political version of lord high executioner. “He should be thankful that his full confession and time in prison kept him out of the reach of the Bellephron social club.”

Said social club was a pack of Furies that were the nicest southern belles who could ever gut a rapist, let alone a pedophile.

“Auntie I know you are playing at something, can we please get passed the mystical mumbo jumbo side of the...” Her hand snapped up and she enacted the glare. The hot winter added a soft rumble in the skies. He being wiser then most shut up immediately.

“Boy you are dumb as a bag of hammers in a screwdriver factory sometimes.” She said with a tight scary smile.

“Word has come down you are to do a bit of traveling, and no you can't just fly their, I have some deliveries and some folks we know got some requests.”

He gulped like he was ten again. “Yes ma'am, what is first and where do you need me to drop it off.”

She patted his cheek, happy as a lady bug in June again. “Why I thought you would never ask, old Mr. Haskins down in Chokoloskee, well I have a few bundles of bits and bobs that need handling and he will have something to you need to look into I am sure of it as I talked to him this morning.”
Adding with a rarified cheery unkindness.
“You can do that consulting work via phone can't you.”

He sighed.

“Yes auntie.” This was going to be an adventure. He hated adventures.
Sebastian Dark-water
Party Crasher B:homid T:Uktena A:Philodox Rage 3 Manip:4*Tempting
- Intimidation:4*soft spoken threats
-Leadership:4*Vizier
M:Hidden Talent Insightful Gossip Alcohol Tolerance
F:Lame Thoughtless Heart
Pure Breed 1 Spirit Heritage 2 *Tezcotlipoca
Accent:Upper Class Charleston
Him/he/hey you!
Song
“Quickly, bring me a beaker of wine, so that I may wet my mind and say something clever.” Aristophanes
The last temptation is the greatest treason: to do the right deed for the wrong reason. T. S. Eliot

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Party Crasher
Posts: 56
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Re: The Melody Remains:A Study in Moments

Postby Party Crasher » Fri Mar 30, 2018 5:14 pm

(Again, subject to change as ST requires)

PART TWO:Born on a Bayou

The philodox lifted his shades and leaned on the railing as the little boat came into the dock. The sticky Florida air stank of fumes and swamp the mix caused his nose to twitch in annoyance. Gaia knew that it was a place full of life, but some days he missed the cleaner sea salt air and city sounds. This was an upscale money trap of a sept, one to drain the pockets of rich white folks to fund the native causes.

He had done his work here every now and then, both on boats and as a consultant for the local tourism board.

He also was aware that the uktena here were not fans of his weavery ass and his wyld birth. It confused them and a confused uktena was a curious one. Also being a grandchild of the god of entrapment and vice for gaia also led to some side eye from the more entrepenurial sort.

The glasswalker side of the sept enjoyed his dry wit and ability to use a cell phone without cursing the thing...well not about what it was...not working was its own matter.

He snorts as the wool stops being gathered. His driver speaks a code into the radio and the boat turns slighty as it finishes docking. Sebstation grabs his bag and limps off the gangway with a gleam in his eye. His posture tall but the leg was never going to heal and he knew it.

“Goddamn swamp monsters.” His leg ached as he thought about his little jaunt into the everglades. It did confirm his theory that wolves nor humans were not meant to be amphibious.

He got the important package on top and with a practice shuffle headed to get clean. That completed after a few minutes and a signature to be official. They knew why he was here, and all he had to do was sit at the watch station for a few hours after the mission.

He found old man Haskins out at his little shack on the beach hidden but the shape of the land and subtle spells and charms that made it so the normal wouldn't see it. He wasn't normal plus he had the code words. His aunt had seen to that.

“Old man, old man, a present for the old man...” He sang softly. The little ritual almost like a ghost story's start.

“Boy close the damned door and no need for that level of traditional nonsense.” The grizzled old spirit was an ancestor but one with a firm anchoring in the realm of flesh. Haskins was an odd duck to be sure, while garou becoming ghosts is rare, an ancestor who stayed was even more off the wall.

“Sure sure, Bonnie wanted me to give you this and learn where I am to head to next.”

The spirit grunted and looked at the box, “Open it, I am feeling my years.”

He did. The various bottles of whisky, the cigars and the various other mystical tools. All laid out with reverent precision.


The spirit whistled, “She must need something fierce, next steps you say, lay out things as I tell you and I will take a look.”

The spirit had been a seer of power and grace in the way of a theurge of chimera. A wind started to swirl as the cards shuffled, “Think on your question boy and while you do...did you have that leg looked at...”

“Suffer not my sickness old man, it is what it is...” His voice was controlled but the need to take it a step further was itching at him. “The other guy got worse.”

The spirit shrugged, “Certain and sure but where you go could be changed or changes with the way your body is built, now cut the deck. “

Party cuts the deck with a grunt and a sigh, “Yeah but that is the fun of being the adult in the room for my kin ya know...”

The cards lay out, three images come to the fore and he stares at them as the old man does himself.

The spirit spoke, “You moved from victory to victory, the wheels of the Chariot pushing you forward.”

A pale finger, transparent more like tapped the card. “Wands, are interpersonal business, and this is again a card of victory, one made fast as well, but lesser, not tied up in your being as much. “ The Eight staves seemed to fly themselves across the card.”

Finally Haskins tapped the last one. He had paused as he looked into the the eyes of the cliath, his great grand nephew was an almost spitting image of his daughter, but the darkness in his eyes, that was the spirit side, and the spirit could see the shimmer of night and vice and trouble surrounding the boy.

“Well.” The cliath was short, but standing like this was a pain, but he would stay standing. The spirit heard him sigh, and “I am sorry continue please old man.” more politely.

“Well you can see the card boy, it is a 5, the nadir of each journey, and while it is another victory, this future one will cost you...not financially, but with someone who trusted you.”

“So you must go to a place of betrayal, a place where blood was shed, and a place where you can find a redemption or at least the first step of it.”

The old man shuffled forward. “Our patron, great uktena, calls you boy, calls you to the lands of the north.”

“A hummingbird came and told me to send you to the second city, the city on the mother lake.”


The boy groaned, “Yes lad, Chicago, and I have asked the elders to send you by bus, there are...”

“Things I need to see...” The spirit chopped his hand, “No...people, you will give three gifts and those gifts will pay it forward...so I have seen, so it can be.”

The boy nodded, “Alright.”

“Good, they have the gifts and the code phrases and the walkers got your ticket, each stop a person will give a code phrase and you will respond, then you will give the gift from me...”
Sebastian Dark-water
Party Crasher B:homid T:Uktena A:Philodox Rage 3 Manip:4*Tempting
- Intimidation:4*soft spoken threats
-Leadership:4*Vizier
M:Hidden Talent Insightful Gossip Alcohol Tolerance
F:Lame Thoughtless Heart
Pure Breed 1 Spirit Heritage 2 *Tezcotlipoca
Accent:Upper Class Charleston
Him/he/hey you!
Song
“Quickly, bring me a beaker of wine, so that I may wet my mind and say something clever.” Aristophanes
The last temptation is the greatest treason: to do the right deed for the wrong reason. T. S. Eliot


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