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renferretMouse attempts to give Contrition to Riot, part 2.
Firestarter follows the Metis to the RV, and settles back down once she finds a good position to watch Mouse. She keeps her eyes trained on the Fostern, and waits patiently.
Starcaller lets a slow breath out through his nose, but gets up at the decision, padding over to Riot and sniffing cautiously towards her, as though unsure of his welcome. He doesn't seem to be paying the metis any particular mind at the moment.
Firestarter pages to the room: It takes about a couple of hours to wash the RV. Especially since Riot doesn't have a hose and does it with a sponge and a couple of buckets.
First-Strike doesn't shift until she's right at the RV's base, setting the paper bag down in order to slide up through the forms and then back down into homid, where that necklace that was around her neck in lupus is mostly hidden by her shirt. She takes the bag, rolls it up (whatever is in it can't be that big), and slides it into a pocket. Then she begins rooting around for washing things--a hose, buckets, rags. She certainly can't be ignorant of Riot's watching, but she's not looking at the Gaian right now.
Firestarter's gaze flickers to Starcaller. Nothing about her posture can be interpreted as pushing him away, but she's not welcoming either. She's in 'guard' mode, one that Urick would be proud of. Turning her gaze back to the Fostern, the Gaian adds, ~Once you are done, and Contrition is still not acceptable, I'd like it if you picked up all the sketches on the grass and weeded my garden for me please. Thank you Mouse-rhya.~
Mouse gives a slight twitch of her head that suggests she's heard Riot, but that's all. Her expression is completely unreadable. As she moves, fetching the things she needs, she fishes her cell phone out of her pocket, dialing a number with one hand as she scoops up tools with the other.
Starcaller tilts his head to the side, mind working a moment before something clicks and he puffs a breath past his lips. He can see where this is going. Oi. However, instead of voicing complaint, he simply pads around behind the Hispo and flops down, resting his neck and chin over one of her hips, apparently getting comfortable for what will probably be a long wait.
Firestarter continues to sit and watch the Metis, visible anger receding into the background. Still, she hardly moves throughout the whole process.
"Not that this place isn't much better than the motel," comes the bass voice from within the trailer. "But would anyone mind tellin' me if it's alright to come out?" Ben is once again by the doorway, having amused himself doing Gaia knows what in the interim since he retreated.
Whoever Mouse called is apparently not answering, as after a few moments she grunts to herself and stashes the phone away again. An RV is not a car--it takes a long, long time for Mouse to finish with it, but finish she does, scrubbing dirt and grime from every inch of the vehicle, and getting herself rather damp in the meantime. Once she does finish, she turns without a word and begins picking up all of the drawings, one after the other, tucking them into a stack under her arm. It's not clear if she looks at them or not. And once that's done, she turns again without hesitation or pause for a break toward the garden, where she begins to tug up weeds. Throughout, her expression is unreadable. She might as well be a machine for all the emotion she shows.
Once Mouse is done with the RV, Firestarter, still in Hispo, trots towards the garden in the back and takes a seat there. She's weeded that garden many days herself, she knows how back breaking the work is. Still, she also wears a black expression, anger having disappeared completely. ~Once you're done with the garden, Mouse-rhya, if you still have enough energy, will you please wash down the patio furniture.~
Starcaller wakes up with a snort as Riot moves, blinking a few times before yawning, then peering towards the emerging Ben. Oh hey, it's that guy with the face. And he's not freaking out. So, that means he can do things like this. The wolf writhes and twists through forms before settling into Homid, rubbing at his face and yawning again before getting up to wander towards the RV, "Riot, First-Strike disagreement. Managed get talk, sort of. Safe now." Or as close as it gets. "This one nap inside. Gaia watch." Now, pardon him while he becomes flat on the couch, this has been a trying day.
Mouse appears to have some weed pulling experience, or at the very least, she knows what she's doing. Her eyes remain on her task, and this time, Firestarter doesn't even get the tiny head motion she gave before. The only sign of strain is the tightening of a muscle around her jaw, and heavier breathing, and that itself is easy to miss.
Ben exits the RV rather quickly as the lupus enters, giving a few quick hobbles away. Which brings him in sight of the two Garou doing...well, whatever they're doing. Measuring what he -should- do against what he -wants- to do, he's silent for the moment.
Firestarter 's ear flickers a greeting to Ben, and then she turns to regard the Fostern, unmoved.
Mouse is building up quite a little pile of weeds. She moves methodically, from one corner to the other, getting each and every interloping bit of flora as she goes.
"What's going on," he finally asks, edging around the RV a bit. Uncertain of just who is who here (never having seen any of them other than Stars outside of homid), he looks more than little confused by the sight of a Garou...weeding. "This some sort of strange rite?"
Firestarter ignores the kin for now. ~Once you are done with the patio furniture, and if you still have energy to burn, please clean the bathroom inside the RV. If you don't have the energy for it today, please come tomorrow morning and do it.~
It's like talking to a stone, for all the reaction Riot gets. Mouse continues plucking up weeds, moving very slowly across the garden on her hands and knees.
Ben crosses his arms over his chest, unable to make heads nor tails of the strange garble of Mother's Tongue. But, seeing that no violence seems to be taking place at the moment, he apparently decides watching is safe enough.
Firestarter opens her massive Hispo jaws to yawn, giving Ben a clear view of big sharp canines. She snaps her jaws shut with a click, and peers over at the Metis. ~After cleaning the bathroom, if you still have the energy for it, please clean the kitchen - especially the stove. After that, please clean all the windows of the RV, including the windshield. You can stop any time you're ready to perform Contrition..there will be no anger on my part.~
Mouse speaks for the first time in quite a while. She sounds a little hoarse under that mewling Jackal voice. "I told you that you can't force it." And that's all she says. She moves to the end of the garden, and keeps tugging weeds free.
Firestarter gives the dire-wolf equivalent of a nod. ~I'm not trying to. You came here to give Contrition, and I'm helping you with the task. You said you needed to calm down, cleaning calms me down.~
Mouse asks, mildly, "Would cleaning calm you down if someone who had threatened you with silver and jumped on you in hispo were hovering around staring at you?" She doesn't wait for an answer. Instead, she gathers up an armload of weeds, and moves for a trash bin.
Firestarter follows at a safe distance. ~Elders that I don't trust and perceive as a threat have forced me to do much more. They beat me into trusting them amongst other things. I'm sorry, Mouse-rhya, I'm tired of the fear and the rage. I want this resolved.~
Ishmael pages: Ring, ring.
"Trust does not come from beating," Mouse responds, still mild, still without looking at Riot, and still, somehow, without her expression changing. "And sincerity does not come from you. I prefer no apologies and no -rhyas to that." She delivers the load of weeds, then heads back for another. Her phone starts ringing. One hand reaches to pull it out, but she doesn't slow in her task.
You paged Ishmael with 'It rings for a little bit, before someone picks up, and a terribly mewly voice answers. "Yeah?" Beneath the mangled Jackal, Mouse's voice sounds emotionless.'.
Ishmael pages: The voice is clearly familiar. "Where /are/ you?"
Long distance to Ishmael: Mouse responds simply, "RV."
Ishmael pages: Pause. "Why the hell are you out there? I've been lookin' for you for like a freakin' hour."
Firestarter moves with Mouse. ~I am sincere in wanting to resolve this. You can doubt me in a lot of things, but you can't doubt my honesty. If you leave without Contrition, then the cause is lost. I am calm now, you will be too once you work the anger out of you. I can do this for weeks.~
Mouse speaks into the phone, "Yeah?" There's a pause. "RV." And another. "I'm doing chores." Riot, however, doesn't get a verbal response this time. She scoops up what weeds she can while tucking the phone under her chin, and walks back toward the trash bin.
You paged Ishmael with 'There's the sound of rumbly Mother's Tongue in the background. It's Riot's voice, but most of her words aren't able to be made out. "I'm doing chores," is Mouse's response.'.
"Chores." This, of course, is Ben. He shakes his head slowly from side to side, hobbling over to his jeep. "Some things I just do not understand."
Ishmael pages: Growl, grunt. General displeasure. "Are these chores supposed to prevent you from, I don't know, BEING AN ELDER? There are /things/ we need to /discuss/ that are /not there/, capiche? Also, love."
Firestarter doesn't wait until Mouse is off the phone before tacking on more chores to the list. ~After the windows, if you have the energy, please launder our clothes and sheets. After that, please iron the sheets and a few shirts. After you're done with that, please wash the dishes. After you're done with that, please darn our socks.~
"I don't know," Mouse says into the phone, as she dumps the weeds. "I wouldn't expect me back there soon." The litany of further chores doesn't so much as bring a twitch to her facial features.
Ishmael pages: Gruffly, "I /highly/ doubt Zeke's expectations consist of shirking your Elder duties because some asshat has a host of freaking chores for you t'do. God damn. Tell 'em they can shove it and you'll be back tomorrow."
Ishmael pages: /Who/ the /fuck/ is that?"
Mouse says into the phone, "Riot. I can't say that. Sorry." And she hangs up.
~After that, please organize the wiring in the ceiling of the RV. After that, please clean out the stains on the couch, captain and passenger chairs. After that, please water the garden. After that, please clear out the brush from underneath the RV..~ Firestarter keeps piling on tasks, pacing with the Metis.
Mouse's phone starts ringing again immediately. She answers it, though she doesn't say anything into it. She's on her way back for another trip to the weed pile.
Ishmael pages: If you won't talk to her, I will. This is ridiculous. Hand her the phone."
Firestarter keeps speaking, as if she hasn't noticed the phone, ~After that, please take the trash out. After that, please organize the sketches into an orderly laminated portfolio. After that, please sharpen all the coloring pencils in the box. After that, please clean out the debris from the engine of the vehicle. After that, please inflate the tires, there's a manual airpump under the sink. After that, please clean the bedroom and dust the interior of the RV.~
Mouse speaks into the phone, calmly, "Sorry, no." And hangs up. Almost immediately, it starts ringing again, and again she answers.
Ishmael pages: /Mouse/, this is /not/ what Zeke intended, and if you stay there and continue to suffer this, I'm going to turn you /BOTH/ in."
There's a longer pause now before she speaks. "I know. But I can't." And yet /again/ hangs up.
Firestarter goes quiet, and sits on her haunches, tracking Mouse with her eyes now.
Mouse's phone almost immediately starts ringing once more. This time she doesn't answer it, however. She silences it, turns it off, then drops it into her pocket. And then? She hauls weeds.
Ishmael pages: In text: Be there shortly. We're all going to hell.
Ishmael has arrived.
Firestarter lets out a soft whuff, and starts listing chores again, ~After that, please clean all the mirrors inside and outside the RV. After that, please beat the dust off the five blankets. After that, please drag out all four mattresses and beat the dust off those. After that, please launder the blankets. After that, please make the beds. After that, please till another row for the garden..~
Ben shakes his head heavily. He may not understand the language, but he can pick up a few hinters. Mostly, that this isn't exactly where he wants to be at the moment. "Yeah. I'm gonna go. Riot, if that's you, thanks for the hospitality. I'll be back later. I think. Kinda."
Eventually, Mouse gets all the weeds to the trash bin. She's breathing quite heavily now, but as before, she heads straight on to the next chore. It's really a wonder she's keeping them straight so far. It's the rag again, as she turns to take care of the patio furniture.
Firestarter trots over to Ben, standing a few paces away. The large dire-wolf lets out a small whine, and flicks her ears at him before turning back to go stand guard again, watching Mouse with intent amber eyes.
It takes longer than he probably would have liked, but at some point, a figure can be seen walking from the direction of the road.
Ben seems to take that whine as acknowledgement that it was, indeed, Riot. He opens the door to his jeep, leaning over to give a nervous laugh. "Maybe breakfast another time. When I know what the hell is going on."
Mouse scrub scrub scrubs the furniture. If having a hispo hovering around a homid weren't weird enough, a close observer might note that the Theurge isn't looking at Riot at all. Her expression is entirely unreadable. There's a tensed muscle in her jaw, and she's worked up a valiant amount of sweat (not to mention dirt on her clothes), but her motions are precise and automatic.
Around the same time the figure appears, so, too, does a white wolf, in the forest, ears perked forward curiously.
Ben's utterance gets Firestarter's attention again, and that's when she notices Ishmael coming down the road. Trotting up to Ben's jeep, and basically blocking Ishmael's access to the clearing and the RV beyond. Firestarter growls out a low warning towards the younger Theurge. ~You are not welcome here. Please leave my territory.~
Stomp, stomp. The pace of the figure is purposeful, and is distinctly carrying a bag in one hand. It may appear more familiar as he nears, with no obvious intent of stoping.
Ishmael then says, "Then please kindly show me the very edge of it, so I can be waiting there when I call the Philodoxen to let them know you're being an irresponsible Bitch."
Mouse continues scrubbing the chairs, but her attention is finally diverted by the sound of the impending confrontation. She glances that way, warily.
Falcon's Wing, who had been lingering, speeds up, so that he's angling to get between Riot and Ishmael. Apparently (who knew!) he smells trouble.
Ben suddenly looks less happy to have a dire wolf so near. When he realizes the attention isn't really centered on him, he looks marginally more secure. Ishmael's rejoinder, however, does little to help.
Firestarter paces before the jeep, essentially blocking Ishmael's path in and Ben's exit. ~Down the road you came. Around the bend and out of sight. I have broken no litany or the philo's rules - Mouse-rhya knows if she does not have the energy for the tasks, she can stop now and complete them tomorrow and the day after and the day after that. Please leave now.~ There's definite dominance, and an implied threat in the dire-wolf's posture. She has yet to notice her packmate coming their way.
Ishmael promptly snorts. "The litany, no. The philo's rules? You're walking the razor's edge. I heard what Zeke said. 'Menial' tasks, and specifically not 'slave labor'." He then promptly points. "The /HELL/ is this all about?"
Mouse continues washing, but it's clear her attention, if not always her eyes, is on the conversation. She's gone stiff and tense.
Falcon's Wing melts into homid, as he suddenly seems to notice the kin. "You could argue /while/ letting Ben leave, perhaps, Riot?" He brushes his hair back and adds, "I do not fully understand what is going on now."
"So that's what's going on," comes the mutter from Ben. The kinfolk still leans heavily against the jeep, not making a move any more strenuous than breathing.
Firestarter turns her head to note Derrick, then steps a few paces back to give Ben and his jeep enough room to maneuver out of the meadow. She turns to give Ishmael a withering look. ~This is your last warning. Leave now.~ She then moves to settle at a fair distance from Mouse, and keeps a vigilant eye on the Metis.
Derrick looks baffled. "That... didn't explain anything," he says. "How is it that, if Mouse-rhya does not feel calm enough, you do not, for example, allow her to leave, since I, personally, become far calmer if I am not confronted with the person who is enraging me, over and over?"
Ishmael's expression and bearing are certainly not accepting of this woman's dominance, and he continues under his breath,"Oh, I'll leave all right," then, yelling at Mouse, as Derrick's logic clearly does not soothe te young man, "If you don't stop stewing in your freaking self pity, grab you fucking /nads/ and march over to the road with me /NOW/, I'm going to make your life such a living hell, you'd better /HOPE/ she keeps you busy until Gaia strikes /all/ of us down and all iterations of Hell freeze over and crumble to freaking dust!" He then devolves to roaring, still towards Mouse, "For /FUCK'S/ sake, what /are/ you trying to prove?" Then, he turns to Riot, seething, "And /You/. You. Ohoho. I'll leave, because it's /compassionate/ and /responsible/. Some things you should perhaps consider looking into." Then, back to Mouse. "NOW, Miss Fostern. If only to beat my ass for being disrespectful of your rank, or you give me a fucking /damn/ good reason why you should stay."
Mouse raises her voice, and while it remains level (or as level as the Jackal ever is) and calm, for the first time in hours there's definite anger there. "Riot, if you hurt him, I will kill you." And then, in answer to Ishmael, "I am not allowed to question or refuse." She moves on to the next chair, muddy rag in hand.
Derrick looks, now, even more baffled, at both Mouse and at Riot. "What?" he asks Mouse. "According to whom?" He apparently completely ignores Ishmael.
Firestarter, deaf to Mouse's warning, charges Ishmael, intent on knocking him down and placing a heavy paw on his chest. ~That was your last warning, mooncalf!~
Ishmael, one hand already in the bag, pulls out an airhorn, and /BLOWS/.
Mouse looks about to answer Derrick--but Riot's actions put an end to that. She's in crinos immediately, lunging at Riot's back with all the pent up fury of the past few hours that she hasn't once shown...until right now. ~NO!~
You wouldn't know that Ben has a limp. The kinfolk is in the driver's seat of the van just like that, without his feet seeming to even touch ground. The doors are shut and summarily locked. The vehicle isn't started, just yet, because there's no way the battleground is clear for him to pass just now.
Derrick, quite literally, puts his head in his hands. "Great Gaia, why must these people torment me?" he mutters, and then melts, slowly, into crinos, though he doesn't yet attack anyone. He just circles, on all fours, warily.
Firestarter's charge skids to a halt as the noise assaults her ears. Said ears go flat immediately. And then Mouse's Crinos form lunges unto her back, knocking the Gaian to the ground. The dire-wolf panics, shifting up to Crinos immediately and making a swipe at Mouse's head with a massive claw as she bucks to get the Crinos off her.
In a pure strength battle, Mouse has already lost, and she knows it. The claw catches her along the side of her face, opening a nasty gash all the way from her cheek to the end of her nose. She's already moving as the Gaian bucks, away and then back in at another angle, clawing and biting at her side and flank.
Ishmael releases his finger from the trigger, allowing a reprieve from the sound. "I don't know," he growls in response to Derrick, "probably because we're all clearly /BATSHIT/." Moving the airhorn to the hand with the bag looped over it, he retrieves a number of small cylinders and a pair of shades, which he dons. "Or because we're all so freaking /SELFISH/," he throws one of those cylinders between the warring Crinos. As soon as it hits the ground, there's a loud 'BANG' and a blinding flash of light.
Falcon's Wing is about to fall into homid, but Ishmael's flashbombs set him reeling for a moment.
Firestarter lets out a cry of pain as Mouse's teeth sink into her side, the Fostern's claws finding purchase as well and ripping her flank open. And then she's blinded by the brilliant flash of white. Enraged, she strikes out at the source of pain by her flanking, claws swiping wildly in hopes of hitting Mouse in the head again and knocking the Metis off her.
There's a faint cry from the jeep. Apparently they weren't the only ones looking. "Fuck!"
First-Strike is likewise blinded, but the Theurge knows where her target is, if not where Riot's claws are aiming. ~Don't you FUCKING DARE touch him!~ Riot's claws rip open her underside, and another catches the bridge of her muzzle this time, while yet another scrapes across her forehead. ~EVER!~ She continues bouncing back and then in again, at different angles, striking where she knows Riot is, though she has no sense of aim. And then she abruptly backs up, hackles bristling, teeth bared, rather heedless of her own gaping injuries, so that she can put herself between Ishmael and Riot, or at least where she judges Ishmael and Riot to both be.
Falcon's Wing takes the opportunity to fall to homid. "/Stand down/ people. That means," he growls at Riot, as he steps in between her and Mouse, "/Both/ of you."
Ishmael took the brief moment of that flash to shift to Glabro and step forward. This choice seems to have been bred more for the carrying voice than anything, and his voice /is/ loud. "Are you both /done/?" He calls, airhorn at the ready, and other hand in bag. "Are you fucking /Done/ with all this passive-aggressive /Bullshit/? Because, you know, it's absolutely /IMPOSSIBLE/ to sit down and listen to each-other without getting in a six-year-old fight about who is /Right/."
Firestarter's flank earns a couple of more gashes, smaller than the original injuries. As the Fostern leaps back, so does Riot, her Crinos form smacking against the front of the jeep and whipping around at a stumble to find a patch of clear ground. Her hackles are raised as well, Crinos head snapping from one side to the other as familiar voices snag her attention. She still can't see, and she's more enraged over that than the actual wounds on her body. ~Betrayers! Breakers of the Litany! You'll be the first under the Halfmoon's axe, Ishmael! Get the hell out of my territory and take your Elder with you- The next time I see her I /will/ kill her, Elder or not!~
First-Strike sucks in a deep breath past all the blood on her face, and shrinks to homid. "Oh shut up, Riot." She turns and pushes a hand against Ishmael's chest, rather heedless of the fact that her hand is bloody. And her face is bloody. And her hair, and her stomach and chest. "Leave, Ishmael. Do what you have to do, but leave."
Derrick suddenly sounds amused. "And you said you needed /Mouse/ to get your courage back."
Ishmael shifts back down, his voice much more calm. "Whatever, Riot. I was on my way out before you assaulted me. There's no rule in the Litany that states I can't speak the /truth/. Anyways, I'm gone. If or when you're ready to talk and hear my apology, I'll be more than happy to comply." Then, to Mouse. "This is /wrong/. You deserved to be punished because you fucked up, yeah. But Riot's no freaking angel, herself. We all make mistakes, but her lording it over you is insult to you, her, and our whole freaking society. It's not healthy, and it's /wrong/. I'm sorry if you both can't see that."
Firestarter's vision slowly clears, and she snarls at Mouse, the snarl carrying over to Derrick. She doesn't say anything to either of them, though, eyes training on Ishmael, "Spare me another Glass Walker's attempt at fuckin' Contrition. You had three warnings and yet your refuse to leave. I'm done giving you warnings. My complaint is valid, and your Elder can't get you out of this one. Just as I had to stand and be scorned by the whole Sept, Mouse's punishment applies. And yours will too. Now get out! I'm not repeating myself. If you're not out in the next 10 seconds I /will/ see it as an act of aggression.~
Mouse grunts at Ishmael. "I know it is. But I'm not allowed to question it. And if she wants to dig her own grave, she can do that. Go home. I'll talk to you later." She turns to face Riot. "I said, shut up. Go inside, clean yourself up, so I can get back to work without you dripping blood all over." As if, you know, she's not. "My punishment applies, but I am still your superior, and you will /not/ throw childish tantrums at /my/ tribemate. If you want to take it to the philodox, take it to the philodox. But if you attack him again, I will be taking /you/ to the philodox. Now /knock it off/."
Derrick rubs his forehead. "Mouse-rhya. Riot's anger is appropriate. This is her territory. She may chase people off it as she wishes. All else, I will dispute with you in time."
Ishmael merely grunts. "The difference is that I'm willing to admit when I'm wrong. You, apparently, know better than the whole world, and can never /be/ wrong. Mouse here is true to herself enough to not bother with Contrition until she feels contrite. And with the shitty way you've been treating her, no wonder she doesn't want to make amends. You've been a raving /bitch/. /I/, however, was wrong for instigating this, and I /am/ truly, sorry. I was angry, and I've... got my own problems." He then sighs, defeated, and nods to Mouse. "I'm goin', I'm goin'. Riot, you can get my number from her if you want to bitch me out. I'll listen. Anyways, Ciao." And he does turn and begin to walk off.
Firestarter watches Ishmael go, not moving until she's fairly sure he's on his way. She turns to Mouse then, ~Leave the chores. I don't want you anywhere near me or my territory. There will be no Contrition.~ She then turns around to walk back to the RV, slowly shifting down to homid with every step.
Derrick mentions, casually, "This all started because Mouse was trying to perform Contrition and Riot was... not quite ready. Today, I mean. So you're... a little off the beam. But I'll see you another time, Ishmael." Then, at Riot's comments, he sighs. "I would think not."
Mouse also watches Ishmael go, turning back to look at Riot as she wipes some of the blood from her face. "No, there won't be," she says, mildly. "There was very likely not going to be any starting about the time I was done with the RV. Definitely by the time I started weeding." The Theurge doesn't seem terribly torn up about the matter.
Ishmael calls over his shoulder, to Derrick, "No, Derrick. If Contrition means /this/," he gestures back to the RV, "then both Riot and Mouse will learn /nothing/. It's futile until they're both willing to communicate. And I don't just mean talk. Anyways. Sorry. Bye."
Riot reappears at the RV door, slipping on a jacket and with a large backpack (seems like she's been ready for this for a while now) in one hand, and her helmet in the other. Angrily, she strides towards her bike, hefting the backpack over her shoulder once the jacket is on, and putting on the helmet before hopping on the motorbike. Derrick gets an angry glance, "Anything Quiet doesn't want is yours." The Gaian then snaps off the stone from around her neck and throws it viciously back at the RV before gunning the engine.
Derrick doesn't bother responding to Ishmael. He just stares at Riot, after her words, for the briefest of instants, and then he tries manfully to lope over and set himself back of the bike. (This is probably ineffective, but he nonetheless tries.)
Rommy has arrived.
Mouse turns her head sharply. It's just as Riot guns the engine that a rather large stone (the largest she can manage), appears directly in front of her front tire. It's sharp on the end pointed toward it.
Riot's bike swerves as the front tire blows out, falling to the side and forcing the Gaian off the seat. Riot is up on her feet instantly, looking from the stone to Mouse. She lets out a roar, exploding into Crinos as she charges the Elder with murder in her eyes.
Just then, there's a charging figure from the forest. Rommy, it seems, at least from the familiar spear, and as he realizes what's happening, puts on an extra burst of speed.
Derrick didn't quite manage to get on the bike in the first place, and sprawled on his back; now that Riot's up and attacking, he finally gives up, growls, "No one's going to kill /me/, /or/ you," and jumps on Riot's back, boxing her ears. While still in homid. Possibly he's trying to make some kind of deranged point.
The benefits of being metis. Mouse is instantly in crinos, though this time she doesn't try to close with Riot. Quite the contrary, she drops to all fours and darts to the side, the stone and feather necklace she's wearing bouncing lightly against her chest. She's already dripping blood, for the moment, she apparently isn't keen for it to happen again. ~Falcon's Wing!~ she yips in alarm.
Firestarter's completely focused on the Glass Walker before her. Not even the added weight of Derrick's body on her back can stop the young Ahroun from launching herself at Mouse, claws out and jaws wide open, aiming for the throat. Rommy needs to gain more ground, and fast.
Firestarter pages to the room: Leaving it up to you Mouse - Riot's hampered by Derrick's extra weight, so the leap isn't exactly perfect.
Derrick slides off Riot as she launches at Mouse, and lands on his feet. He does not, now, move further.
First-Strike again leaps to the side, though this time she escapes only by a hairs-breadth, and Riot's teeth actually brush the guard hairs of her tail. She circles, keeping on all fours, and trying to keep a certain amount of distance between them. And, as she does, her nostrils flare.
Rommy bursts into Crinos somewhere along that run, ditching the human-sized spear with a mighty throw off to some abandoned part of the meadow. The larger, Crinos-sized spear is firmly strapped to his back. Speeding forward at an inhuman pace, he launches himself at Firebringer.
Firestarter twists her body easily enough now that Derrick is off her back. Just as she was readying herself for another attack, Rommy's massive Crinos figure slams into her smaller one, and she finds herself clawing at her packmate, panic bleeding into the rage.
Derrick growls, as he sidles away to make room for Rommy's attack, "Mouse-rhya. Leave. We will deal with our packmate. You? Are invading her territory. And, now, attacking in unwarranted fashion."
First-Strike is breathing more heavily than ever, and she looks about to help Rommy when Derrick speaks. She turns a look on him. ~Funny. First she wouldn't let me leave it, now I'm invading it. Unwarranted? She's /leaving/. After talking about how the Dancers aren't so bad all afternoon. She knows everything about us, where all of our /new/ safehouses are, and she has /repeatedly/ informed me about how she doesn't give a shit what happens to anyone here. At best, she's going to the Ronin, at worst, she's going to be Carnage's new playtoy. /Unwarranted/?~
Wind-Brother suffers the claws with a low growl, but otherwise focuses on wrestling the woman into a manageable position, once they land. Brawling, he can do. Thus, he attempts to hook his arms around hers and hold her immobilized, all the while urging, ~/Firebringer/. You /have/ the tools. Your sanctuary. Your safe place. /GO/ there!~
Derrick's jaw sets; indeed, he seems to have trouble staying in homid. "Yeah," he spits, after a moment's internal struggle, "She's leaving because you've pushed and pushed and pushed. Get the hell out, so we can /help her/. Because there's no way to do /any/ of that with you /still here/, you vindictive /mustilidae/."
Firestarter, being the smaller, weaker, and less experienced fighter, finds herself immobilized in no time. Panting heavily, the wounds she's taken from Mouse earlier still bleeding, the younger Gaian cries out her protests, ~There /is/ no safe place here! Let me go, Rommy! I know where my sanctuary is, and it's not in my head!~
First-Strike stares at Derrick. ~I pushed.~ Her voice has gone flat, very quiet, and very dangerous. ~/I/ pushed? She has held me here for /hours/, not letting me leave to tell the Alpha the information I've found out or take care of my tribe, to wash her RV by hand, and pick up her papers, and weed her garden, and wash her furniture, and do her dishes, clean her bedroom, re-wire her /ceiling/, she has sat and /watched/ me, stared at me the whole time, reciting lists of chores that I would have to do long enough to drape from the fucking Empire State building and reach ground until I did what /she/ wanted, simpering at me with -rhya this and 'would you please' that, in a fashion that would make the sleaziest, most honorless, cowardly Shadow Lord burst with /pride/, telling me she could go on for /weeks/. she has threatened my life, bullied me, endlessly insulted me, stomped on the very notion of respect over, and over, and over, and /over/ again, and you say /I/ /pushed/ /her/? That /I/ am the one being /vindictive/?!~ She drops to homid like one might drop an old coat, shoves her hand into her pocket, and drags out the paper sack, then dumps it's contents into her hand. It's a stone that Riot, at least, may have seen before. Small, green, with a hole drilled through the middle where a string has been threaded. It's the rock she's used for Questing Stone, though she's added two feathers to it, one white, one silvery grey. "I came here to give Contrition. I came here to /give her this/. It was the stone that saved /my/ life, given to me by /my/ pack alpha, when I was afraid of the dark and other Garou and I woke up screaming in the night."
Wind-Brother, of course, does not such thing. ~Where did you intend to go?~ He asks, loosening his grip enough so that he's not suffocating the girl, but still keeping her immobilized. His attention is suddenly grabbed by Mouse, though he continues. ~I don't know what happened, Firebringer, but there needs to be talk. You do not need to go. It would prove nothing, and you would only be doing more harm than good. Please don't leave us.~
Derrick stares at Mouse as she spurts words. "OK!" he finally says, brightly, energetically. "Sorry we messed up your plans! Now /go away/."
Firestarter tries to wriggle free as soon as she feels Rommy's grip ease. ~No! No more talks. No more punishments. No more accusations. No more /anything/! Harm to who? Me? Fuck it! What more can this Sept do to me short of kill me outright. Let them. I'm sure they can twist the Litany to make it justifiable too! Now. Let. Me. Go!~
Mouse's eyes grow abruptly hot and watery. She closes her fingers around the stone, tightens them until her knuckles grow white. "When she leads them to our door, I hope you're there at my Gathering, so you can tell everyone how I was just asking for it."
Wind-Brother is forced to tighten his grip again, and his words are harsher now, though the tone is still as gentle as a Crinos can manage. ~No. You're acting like a child. And though you do much with good in mind, you try too hard. But you /try/, and there are many here who care for you. Do you truly think it's going to be better at any other Sept? As a Ronin? What if the Dancers get to you? How is any of this going to be better? Firestarter, have you ever truly considered /why/ you were punished?~
Derrick takes a deep, deliberate breath, and then lets it out again. Suddenly, his intonation and word choice is much different. "Mouse-rhya. What would you have me say? Her making you do endless chores is far from the wisest thing I have ever heard, and had I been here I would have counseled against it. But you must see that you are merely making a bad situation worse-- were this in your territory, I would be urging Riot to leave. Since it is not, I am urging you to leave, as undoubtedly you should have done hours ago, before /I/ left."
Firestarter ceases struggling, too exhausted to fight him. ~The Dancers won't get me,~ she murmurs, ~I had a gun pointed at my heart the when I was talking to Adam. I know what to do before anything like that would happen...Anything is better than what I have to go through to be part of this Sept. I don't want it. I want to leave. Why is everyone insistant on keeping me prisoner here! Not even the charach is prisoner!~
"I couldn't," Mouse says. "I tried. I'm not allowed to say no to these things." Her voice is wavering, however, and the heat in her face and behind her eyes doesn't seem to be so much anger as something else. "But you're not urging me. You're blaming me. You're calling me a vindictive /weasel/. Vera called a hunt on me simply for not being in contact. What would she do the moment she heard Riot had taken off, after the things Riot said? After the things she's said for /ages/ now. And that's assuming Vera'd get to her first. I know...I /know/ what happens next, Derrick. I didn't /stop/ it before."
Wind-Brother rests his head against her shoulder, though he has not yet let her go. ~Your words,~ he says quietly. ~I have not been here long enough to /truly/ understand, but I can deduce. You seem to try so much--too much, and often, it seems that what you do falls apart, backfires, or is otherwise unsuccessful. But why do you call it a prison?~
Derrick looks, briefly, embarrassed. "That was unjust of me. I meant ferret, in truth, but even then, I should not have said it, and I do apologize, as best as I am able. But--" Recovering his expression, it becomes more intent, sad. "Mouse-rhya. Zeke said they were to be small tasks, menial tasks, and that you cannot refuse, true. But he /also/ said they could not become ridiculous, and this has become so. And you have the power to protest, but you did not. That /aside/--" He sighs, again. "You are assuming we-- her pack-- would be so callous as to allow her to leave, without further action, and without the weight of our love, and our Totem's love. I recognize that your recent... difficulties... are affecting your actions, but..." He trails off and shrugs, palms up. "You are not the appropriate person to intervene here, not now."
Firestarter lets out a soft whine, ~They keep me on a tight leash. They think I want to betray them. I just want to /leave/. I won't betray anyone. It's not fair of them to keep me here. It's not /right/. Being Garou does not mean you're a prisoner.~
Mouse's lips tighten. "I can't refuse, or question," she says. "Those were his words. He said if people violated his conditions it would be on their heads. But /my/ responsibility is to learn how to follow orders, even if I don't like them, especially if they're inconvenient." Her lips tighten more, and then purse. "At least she gave me fucking chores. Everyone else has been whining at me how it's so unfair." She glances at Riot, then back to Derrick. "...I know. But. Then. Can I...at the edge of the forest? I won't be able to hear, or see. But I can...be there. If...if there /is/ something I can do, tonight."
Wind-Brother continues to nuzzle her neck in the best comforting manner he can muster. ~No, not betray us. They're afraid you'll betray yourself. At least, those of us who care are afraid of that. You put out so much energy--so much action. This can be a good thing, but your choices can be sometimes... erratic, difficult to quantify, plan around. We want you to be part of our /team/ Riot, so we can watch after you, and you after us. So we can listen to your plans, and stand behind you in your actions, but also give you counsel, and share what wisdom we have to temper all that energy you've got. So don't give up. Gaia knows it can be difficult, but /don't/ give up.~
Derrick blinks slowly. "Please pardon me, I had, I suspect, heard it wrong. Again, my apologies. But I will try to speak to Zeke on your behalf." He glances back at the RV, then over to Mouse. "Mouse-rhya. You have a cell phone. If you wish to... worry and fret... would not going to Edgewood House work, so that you might be near, but would not still be... exacerbating the problem with your presence?"
Firestarter goes quiet at that, dropping her head down with a tired sigh. She slumps a bit against him, unwilling to argue anymore.
Mouse ducks her head, cheeks reddening. She seems to have completely forgotten her own injuries, or the bleeding, apart from the growing stiffness in her movements. "I came here to give Contrition," she mumbles. "Then by the time she finally agreed to it, we were both so worked up I couldn't do it. Now it's back to square one, with more death threats." She glances briefly toward Riot again, then again back to Derrick. "...I'm sorry." And that, more than anything, sounds sincere. She turns, intending to give Riot and Rommy a wide berth, but heading for the trees.
Wind-Brother's wrestling grip transmutes into a hug, and he seems more than happy to allow her weight to rest against him. ~There are problems,~ he admits softly, petting her head in a soft gesture that might seem odd for the strength in his forelimbs, "but we will deal with them, one by one, until all that remains is the sky.~
Derrick says, evenly, "As am I," though for what, is unclear.
Firestarter takes in a shaky breath at the hug, falling into the embrace with no complaint. She keeps her silence, avoiding his gaze and reverting back to her birth form once she's released. Mouse's exit is caught out of the corner of her eye, and the younger Gaian turns to watch her go, waiting until the Glass Walker is out of earshot before murmuring, "I wanted this resolved. Now it won't be," she looks up at Rommy then, "I honestly want to go, Rommy. This isn't some tantrum. I really do want to leave."
Mouse falls to lupus about when she hits the tree line. Her form is /less/ than graceful. In fact, as her front legs hit the ground, they crumple right under her, and for a moment, she flops onto her side before she rights herself and vanishes, limping heavily.
Firestarter follows the Metis to the RV, and settles back down once she finds a good position to watch Mouse. She keeps her eyes trained on the Fostern, and waits patiently.
Starcaller lets a slow breath out through his nose, but gets up at the decision, padding over to Riot and sniffing cautiously towards her, as though unsure of his welcome. He doesn't seem to be paying the metis any particular mind at the moment.
Firestarter pages to the room: It takes about a couple of hours to wash the RV. Especially since Riot doesn't have a hose and does it with a sponge and a couple of buckets.
First-Strike doesn't shift until she's right at the RV's base, setting the paper bag down in order to slide up through the forms and then back down into homid, where that necklace that was around her neck in lupus is mostly hidden by her shirt. She takes the bag, rolls it up (whatever is in it can't be that big), and slides it into a pocket. Then she begins rooting around for washing things--a hose, buckets, rags. She certainly can't be ignorant of Riot's watching, but she's not looking at the Gaian right now.
Firestarter's gaze flickers to Starcaller. Nothing about her posture can be interpreted as pushing him away, but she's not welcoming either. She's in 'guard' mode, one that Urick would be proud of. Turning her gaze back to the Fostern, the Gaian adds, ~Once you are done, and Contrition is still not acceptable, I'd like it if you picked up all the sketches on the grass and weeded my garden for me please. Thank you Mouse-rhya.~
Mouse gives a slight twitch of her head that suggests she's heard Riot, but that's all. Her expression is completely unreadable. As she moves, fetching the things she needs, she fishes her cell phone out of her pocket, dialing a number with one hand as she scoops up tools with the other.
Starcaller tilts his head to the side, mind working a moment before something clicks and he puffs a breath past his lips. He can see where this is going. Oi. However, instead of voicing complaint, he simply pads around behind the Hispo and flops down, resting his neck and chin over one of her hips, apparently getting comfortable for what will probably be a long wait.
Firestarter continues to sit and watch the Metis, visible anger receding into the background. Still, she hardly moves throughout the whole process.
"Not that this place isn't much better than the motel," comes the bass voice from within the trailer. "But would anyone mind tellin' me if it's alright to come out?" Ben is once again by the doorway, having amused himself doing Gaia knows what in the interim since he retreated.
Whoever Mouse called is apparently not answering, as after a few moments she grunts to herself and stashes the phone away again. An RV is not a car--it takes a long, long time for Mouse to finish with it, but finish she does, scrubbing dirt and grime from every inch of the vehicle, and getting herself rather damp in the meantime. Once she does finish, she turns without a word and begins picking up all of the drawings, one after the other, tucking them into a stack under her arm. It's not clear if she looks at them or not. And once that's done, she turns again without hesitation or pause for a break toward the garden, where she begins to tug up weeds. Throughout, her expression is unreadable. She might as well be a machine for all the emotion she shows.
Once Mouse is done with the RV, Firestarter, still in Hispo, trots towards the garden in the back and takes a seat there. She's weeded that garden many days herself, she knows how back breaking the work is. Still, she also wears a black expression, anger having disappeared completely. ~Once you're done with the garden, Mouse-rhya, if you still have enough energy, will you please wash down the patio furniture.~
Starcaller wakes up with a snort as Riot moves, blinking a few times before yawning, then peering towards the emerging Ben. Oh hey, it's that guy with the face. And he's not freaking out. So, that means he can do things like this. The wolf writhes and twists through forms before settling into Homid, rubbing at his face and yawning again before getting up to wander towards the RV, "Riot, First-Strike disagreement. Managed get talk, sort of. Safe now." Or as close as it gets. "This one nap inside. Gaia watch." Now, pardon him while he becomes flat on the couch, this has been a trying day.
Mouse appears to have some weed pulling experience, or at the very least, she knows what she's doing. Her eyes remain on her task, and this time, Firestarter doesn't even get the tiny head motion she gave before. The only sign of strain is the tightening of a muscle around her jaw, and heavier breathing, and that itself is easy to miss.
Ben exits the RV rather quickly as the lupus enters, giving a few quick hobbles away. Which brings him in sight of the two Garou doing...well, whatever they're doing. Measuring what he -should- do against what he -wants- to do, he's silent for the moment.
Firestarter 's ear flickers a greeting to Ben, and then she turns to regard the Fostern, unmoved.
Mouse is building up quite a little pile of weeds. She moves methodically, from one corner to the other, getting each and every interloping bit of flora as she goes.
"What's going on," he finally asks, edging around the RV a bit. Uncertain of just who is who here (never having seen any of them other than Stars outside of homid), he looks more than little confused by the sight of a Garou...weeding. "This some sort of strange rite?"
Firestarter ignores the kin for now. ~Once you are done with the patio furniture, and if you still have energy to burn, please clean the bathroom inside the RV. If you don't have the energy for it today, please come tomorrow morning and do it.~
It's like talking to a stone, for all the reaction Riot gets. Mouse continues plucking up weeds, moving very slowly across the garden on her hands and knees.
Ben crosses his arms over his chest, unable to make heads nor tails of the strange garble of Mother's Tongue. But, seeing that no violence seems to be taking place at the moment, he apparently decides watching is safe enough.
Firestarter opens her massive Hispo jaws to yawn, giving Ben a clear view of big sharp canines. She snaps her jaws shut with a click, and peers over at the Metis. ~After cleaning the bathroom, if you still have the energy for it, please clean the kitchen - especially the stove. After that, please clean all the windows of the RV, including the windshield. You can stop any time you're ready to perform Contrition..there will be no anger on my part.~
Mouse speaks for the first time in quite a while. She sounds a little hoarse under that mewling Jackal voice. "I told you that you can't force it." And that's all she says. She moves to the end of the garden, and keeps tugging weeds free.
Firestarter gives the dire-wolf equivalent of a nod. ~I'm not trying to. You came here to give Contrition, and I'm helping you with the task. You said you needed to calm down, cleaning calms me down.~
Mouse asks, mildly, "Would cleaning calm you down if someone who had threatened you with silver and jumped on you in hispo were hovering around staring at you?" She doesn't wait for an answer. Instead, she gathers up an armload of weeds, and moves for a trash bin.
Firestarter follows at a safe distance. ~Elders that I don't trust and perceive as a threat have forced me to do much more. They beat me into trusting them amongst other things. I'm sorry, Mouse-rhya, I'm tired of the fear and the rage. I want this resolved.~
Ishmael pages: Ring, ring.
"Trust does not come from beating," Mouse responds, still mild, still without looking at Riot, and still, somehow, without her expression changing. "And sincerity does not come from you. I prefer no apologies and no -rhyas to that." She delivers the load of weeds, then heads back for another. Her phone starts ringing. One hand reaches to pull it out, but she doesn't slow in her task.
You paged Ishmael with 'It rings for a little bit, before someone picks up, and a terribly mewly voice answers. "Yeah?" Beneath the mangled Jackal, Mouse's voice sounds emotionless.'.
Ishmael pages: The voice is clearly familiar. "Where /are/ you?"
Long distance to Ishmael: Mouse responds simply, "RV."
Ishmael pages: Pause. "Why the hell are you out there? I've been lookin' for you for like a freakin' hour."
Firestarter moves with Mouse. ~I am sincere in wanting to resolve this. You can doubt me in a lot of things, but you can't doubt my honesty. If you leave without Contrition, then the cause is lost. I am calm now, you will be too once you work the anger out of you. I can do this for weeks.~
Mouse speaks into the phone, "Yeah?" There's a pause. "RV." And another. "I'm doing chores." Riot, however, doesn't get a verbal response this time. She scoops up what weeds she can while tucking the phone under her chin, and walks back toward the trash bin.
You paged Ishmael with 'There's the sound of rumbly Mother's Tongue in the background. It's Riot's voice, but most of her words aren't able to be made out. "I'm doing chores," is Mouse's response.'.
"Chores." This, of course, is Ben. He shakes his head slowly from side to side, hobbling over to his jeep. "Some things I just do not understand."
Ishmael pages: Growl, grunt. General displeasure. "Are these chores supposed to prevent you from, I don't know, BEING AN ELDER? There are /things/ we need to /discuss/ that are /not there/, capiche? Also, love."
Firestarter doesn't wait until Mouse is off the phone before tacking on more chores to the list. ~After the windows, if you have the energy, please launder our clothes and sheets. After that, please iron the sheets and a few shirts. After you're done with that, please wash the dishes. After you're done with that, please darn our socks.~
"I don't know," Mouse says into the phone, as she dumps the weeds. "I wouldn't expect me back there soon." The litany of further chores doesn't so much as bring a twitch to her facial features.
Ishmael pages: Gruffly, "I /highly/ doubt Zeke's expectations consist of shirking your Elder duties because some asshat has a host of freaking chores for you t'do. God damn. Tell 'em they can shove it and you'll be back tomorrow."
Ishmael pages: /Who/ the /fuck/ is that?"
Mouse says into the phone, "Riot. I can't say that. Sorry." And she hangs up.
~After that, please organize the wiring in the ceiling of the RV. After that, please clean out the stains on the couch, captain and passenger chairs. After that, please water the garden. After that, please clear out the brush from underneath the RV..~ Firestarter keeps piling on tasks, pacing with the Metis.
Mouse's phone starts ringing again immediately. She answers it, though she doesn't say anything into it. She's on her way back for another trip to the weed pile.
Ishmael pages: If you won't talk to her, I will. This is ridiculous. Hand her the phone."
Firestarter keeps speaking, as if she hasn't noticed the phone, ~After that, please take the trash out. After that, please organize the sketches into an orderly laminated portfolio. After that, please sharpen all the coloring pencils in the box. After that, please clean out the debris from the engine of the vehicle. After that, please inflate the tires, there's a manual airpump under the sink. After that, please clean the bedroom and dust the interior of the RV.~
Mouse speaks into the phone, calmly, "Sorry, no." And hangs up. Almost immediately, it starts ringing again, and again she answers.
Ishmael pages: /Mouse/, this is /not/ what Zeke intended, and if you stay there and continue to suffer this, I'm going to turn you /BOTH/ in."
There's a longer pause now before she speaks. "I know. But I can't." And yet /again/ hangs up.
Firestarter goes quiet, and sits on her haunches, tracking Mouse with her eyes now.
Mouse's phone almost immediately starts ringing once more. This time she doesn't answer it, however. She silences it, turns it off, then drops it into her pocket. And then? She hauls weeds.
Ishmael pages: In text: Be there shortly. We're all going to hell.
Ishmael has arrived.
Firestarter lets out a soft whuff, and starts listing chores again, ~After that, please clean all the mirrors inside and outside the RV. After that, please beat the dust off the five blankets. After that, please drag out all four mattresses and beat the dust off those. After that, please launder the blankets. After that, please make the beds. After that, please till another row for the garden..~
Ben shakes his head heavily. He may not understand the language, but he can pick up a few hinters. Mostly, that this isn't exactly where he wants to be at the moment. "Yeah. I'm gonna go. Riot, if that's you, thanks for the hospitality. I'll be back later. I think. Kinda."
Eventually, Mouse gets all the weeds to the trash bin. She's breathing quite heavily now, but as before, she heads straight on to the next chore. It's really a wonder she's keeping them straight so far. It's the rag again, as she turns to take care of the patio furniture.
Firestarter trots over to Ben, standing a few paces away. The large dire-wolf lets out a small whine, and flicks her ears at him before turning back to go stand guard again, watching Mouse with intent amber eyes.
It takes longer than he probably would have liked, but at some point, a figure can be seen walking from the direction of the road.
Ben seems to take that whine as acknowledgement that it was, indeed, Riot. He opens the door to his jeep, leaning over to give a nervous laugh. "Maybe breakfast another time. When I know what the hell is going on."
Mouse scrub scrub scrubs the furniture. If having a hispo hovering around a homid weren't weird enough, a close observer might note that the Theurge isn't looking at Riot at all. Her expression is entirely unreadable. There's a tensed muscle in her jaw, and she's worked up a valiant amount of sweat (not to mention dirt on her clothes), but her motions are precise and automatic.
Around the same time the figure appears, so, too, does a white wolf, in the forest, ears perked forward curiously.
Ben's utterance gets Firestarter's attention again, and that's when she notices Ishmael coming down the road. Trotting up to Ben's jeep, and basically blocking Ishmael's access to the clearing and the RV beyond. Firestarter growls out a low warning towards the younger Theurge. ~You are not welcome here. Please leave my territory.~
Stomp, stomp. The pace of the figure is purposeful, and is distinctly carrying a bag in one hand. It may appear more familiar as he nears, with no obvious intent of stoping.
Ishmael then says, "Then please kindly show me the very edge of it, so I can be waiting there when I call the Philodoxen to let them know you're being an irresponsible Bitch."
Mouse continues scrubbing the chairs, but her attention is finally diverted by the sound of the impending confrontation. She glances that way, warily.
Falcon's Wing, who had been lingering, speeds up, so that he's angling to get between Riot and Ishmael. Apparently (who knew!) he smells trouble.
Ben suddenly looks less happy to have a dire wolf so near. When he realizes the attention isn't really centered on him, he looks marginally more secure. Ishmael's rejoinder, however, does little to help.
Firestarter paces before the jeep, essentially blocking Ishmael's path in and Ben's exit. ~Down the road you came. Around the bend and out of sight. I have broken no litany or the philo's rules - Mouse-rhya knows if she does not have the energy for the tasks, she can stop now and complete them tomorrow and the day after and the day after that. Please leave now.~ There's definite dominance, and an implied threat in the dire-wolf's posture. She has yet to notice her packmate coming their way.
Ishmael promptly snorts. "The litany, no. The philo's rules? You're walking the razor's edge. I heard what Zeke said. 'Menial' tasks, and specifically not 'slave labor'." He then promptly points. "The /HELL/ is this all about?"
Mouse continues washing, but it's clear her attention, if not always her eyes, is on the conversation. She's gone stiff and tense.
Falcon's Wing melts into homid, as he suddenly seems to notice the kin. "You could argue /while/ letting Ben leave, perhaps, Riot?" He brushes his hair back and adds, "I do not fully understand what is going on now."
"So that's what's going on," comes the mutter from Ben. The kinfolk still leans heavily against the jeep, not making a move any more strenuous than breathing.
Firestarter turns her head to note Derrick, then steps a few paces back to give Ben and his jeep enough room to maneuver out of the meadow. She turns to give Ishmael a withering look. ~This is your last warning. Leave now.~ She then moves to settle at a fair distance from Mouse, and keeps a vigilant eye on the Metis.
Derrick looks baffled. "That... didn't explain anything," he says. "How is it that, if Mouse-rhya does not feel calm enough, you do not, for example, allow her to leave, since I, personally, become far calmer if I am not confronted with the person who is enraging me, over and over?"
Ishmael's expression and bearing are certainly not accepting of this woman's dominance, and he continues under his breath,"Oh, I'll leave all right," then, yelling at Mouse, as Derrick's logic clearly does not soothe te young man, "If you don't stop stewing in your freaking self pity, grab you fucking /nads/ and march over to the road with me /NOW/, I'm going to make your life such a living hell, you'd better /HOPE/ she keeps you busy until Gaia strikes /all/ of us down and all iterations of Hell freeze over and crumble to freaking dust!" He then devolves to roaring, still towards Mouse, "For /FUCK'S/ sake, what /are/ you trying to prove?" Then, he turns to Riot, seething, "And /You/. You. Ohoho. I'll leave, because it's /compassionate/ and /responsible/. Some things you should perhaps consider looking into." Then, back to Mouse. "NOW, Miss Fostern. If only to beat my ass for being disrespectful of your rank, or you give me a fucking /damn/ good reason why you should stay."
Mouse raises her voice, and while it remains level (or as level as the Jackal ever is) and calm, for the first time in hours there's definite anger there. "Riot, if you hurt him, I will kill you." And then, in answer to Ishmael, "I am not allowed to question or refuse." She moves on to the next chair, muddy rag in hand.
Derrick looks, now, even more baffled, at both Mouse and at Riot. "What?" he asks Mouse. "According to whom?" He apparently completely ignores Ishmael.
Firestarter, deaf to Mouse's warning, charges Ishmael, intent on knocking him down and placing a heavy paw on his chest. ~That was your last warning, mooncalf!~
Ishmael, one hand already in the bag, pulls out an airhorn, and /BLOWS/.
Mouse looks about to answer Derrick--but Riot's actions put an end to that. She's in crinos immediately, lunging at Riot's back with all the pent up fury of the past few hours that she hasn't once shown...until right now. ~NO!~
You wouldn't know that Ben has a limp. The kinfolk is in the driver's seat of the van just like that, without his feet seeming to even touch ground. The doors are shut and summarily locked. The vehicle isn't started, just yet, because there's no way the battleground is clear for him to pass just now.
Derrick, quite literally, puts his head in his hands. "Great Gaia, why must these people torment me?" he mutters, and then melts, slowly, into crinos, though he doesn't yet attack anyone. He just circles, on all fours, warily.
Firestarter's charge skids to a halt as the noise assaults her ears. Said ears go flat immediately. And then Mouse's Crinos form lunges unto her back, knocking the Gaian to the ground. The dire-wolf panics, shifting up to Crinos immediately and making a swipe at Mouse's head with a massive claw as she bucks to get the Crinos off her.
In a pure strength battle, Mouse has already lost, and she knows it. The claw catches her along the side of her face, opening a nasty gash all the way from her cheek to the end of her nose. She's already moving as the Gaian bucks, away and then back in at another angle, clawing and biting at her side and flank.
Ishmael releases his finger from the trigger, allowing a reprieve from the sound. "I don't know," he growls in response to Derrick, "probably because we're all clearly /BATSHIT/." Moving the airhorn to the hand with the bag looped over it, he retrieves a number of small cylinders and a pair of shades, which he dons. "Or because we're all so freaking /SELFISH/," he throws one of those cylinders between the warring Crinos. As soon as it hits the ground, there's a loud 'BANG' and a blinding flash of light.
Falcon's Wing is about to fall into homid, but Ishmael's flashbombs set him reeling for a moment.
Firestarter lets out a cry of pain as Mouse's teeth sink into her side, the Fostern's claws finding purchase as well and ripping her flank open. And then she's blinded by the brilliant flash of white. Enraged, she strikes out at the source of pain by her flanking, claws swiping wildly in hopes of hitting Mouse in the head again and knocking the Metis off her.
There's a faint cry from the jeep. Apparently they weren't the only ones looking. "Fuck!"
First-Strike is likewise blinded, but the Theurge knows where her target is, if not where Riot's claws are aiming. ~Don't you FUCKING DARE touch him!~ Riot's claws rip open her underside, and another catches the bridge of her muzzle this time, while yet another scrapes across her forehead. ~EVER!~ She continues bouncing back and then in again, at different angles, striking where she knows Riot is, though she has no sense of aim. And then she abruptly backs up, hackles bristling, teeth bared, rather heedless of her own gaping injuries, so that she can put herself between Ishmael and Riot, or at least where she judges Ishmael and Riot to both be.
Falcon's Wing takes the opportunity to fall to homid. "/Stand down/ people. That means," he growls at Riot, as he steps in between her and Mouse, "/Both/ of you."
Ishmael took the brief moment of that flash to shift to Glabro and step forward. This choice seems to have been bred more for the carrying voice than anything, and his voice /is/ loud. "Are you both /done/?" He calls, airhorn at the ready, and other hand in bag. "Are you fucking /Done/ with all this passive-aggressive /Bullshit/? Because, you know, it's absolutely /IMPOSSIBLE/ to sit down and listen to each-other without getting in a six-year-old fight about who is /Right/."
Firestarter's flank earns a couple of more gashes, smaller than the original injuries. As the Fostern leaps back, so does Riot, her Crinos form smacking against the front of the jeep and whipping around at a stumble to find a patch of clear ground. Her hackles are raised as well, Crinos head snapping from one side to the other as familiar voices snag her attention. She still can't see, and she's more enraged over that than the actual wounds on her body. ~Betrayers! Breakers of the Litany! You'll be the first under the Halfmoon's axe, Ishmael! Get the hell out of my territory and take your Elder with you- The next time I see her I /will/ kill her, Elder or not!~
First-Strike sucks in a deep breath past all the blood on her face, and shrinks to homid. "Oh shut up, Riot." She turns and pushes a hand against Ishmael's chest, rather heedless of the fact that her hand is bloody. And her face is bloody. And her hair, and her stomach and chest. "Leave, Ishmael. Do what you have to do, but leave."
Derrick suddenly sounds amused. "And you said you needed /Mouse/ to get your courage back."
Ishmael shifts back down, his voice much more calm. "Whatever, Riot. I was on my way out before you assaulted me. There's no rule in the Litany that states I can't speak the /truth/. Anyways, I'm gone. If or when you're ready to talk and hear my apology, I'll be more than happy to comply." Then, to Mouse. "This is /wrong/. You deserved to be punished because you fucked up, yeah. But Riot's no freaking angel, herself. We all make mistakes, but her lording it over you is insult to you, her, and our whole freaking society. It's not healthy, and it's /wrong/. I'm sorry if you both can't see that."
Firestarter's vision slowly clears, and she snarls at Mouse, the snarl carrying over to Derrick. She doesn't say anything to either of them, though, eyes training on Ishmael, "Spare me another Glass Walker's attempt at fuckin' Contrition. You had three warnings and yet your refuse to leave. I'm done giving you warnings. My complaint is valid, and your Elder can't get you out of this one. Just as I had to stand and be scorned by the whole Sept, Mouse's punishment applies. And yours will too. Now get out! I'm not repeating myself. If you're not out in the next 10 seconds I /will/ see it as an act of aggression.~
Mouse grunts at Ishmael. "I know it is. But I'm not allowed to question it. And if she wants to dig her own grave, she can do that. Go home. I'll talk to you later." She turns to face Riot. "I said, shut up. Go inside, clean yourself up, so I can get back to work without you dripping blood all over." As if, you know, she's not. "My punishment applies, but I am still your superior, and you will /not/ throw childish tantrums at /my/ tribemate. If you want to take it to the philodox, take it to the philodox. But if you attack him again, I will be taking /you/ to the philodox. Now /knock it off/."
Derrick rubs his forehead. "Mouse-rhya. Riot's anger is appropriate. This is her territory. She may chase people off it as she wishes. All else, I will dispute with you in time."
Ishmael merely grunts. "The difference is that I'm willing to admit when I'm wrong. You, apparently, know better than the whole world, and can never /be/ wrong. Mouse here is true to herself enough to not bother with Contrition until she feels contrite. And with the shitty way you've been treating her, no wonder she doesn't want to make amends. You've been a raving /bitch/. /I/, however, was wrong for instigating this, and I /am/ truly, sorry. I was angry, and I've... got my own problems." He then sighs, defeated, and nods to Mouse. "I'm goin', I'm goin'. Riot, you can get my number from her if you want to bitch me out. I'll listen. Anyways, Ciao." And he does turn and begin to walk off.
Firestarter watches Ishmael go, not moving until she's fairly sure he's on his way. She turns to Mouse then, ~Leave the chores. I don't want you anywhere near me or my territory. There will be no Contrition.~ She then turns around to walk back to the RV, slowly shifting down to homid with every step.
Derrick mentions, casually, "This all started because Mouse was trying to perform Contrition and Riot was... not quite ready. Today, I mean. So you're... a little off the beam. But I'll see you another time, Ishmael." Then, at Riot's comments, he sighs. "I would think not."
Mouse also watches Ishmael go, turning back to look at Riot as she wipes some of the blood from her face. "No, there won't be," she says, mildly. "There was very likely not going to be any starting about the time I was done with the RV. Definitely by the time I started weeding." The Theurge doesn't seem terribly torn up about the matter.
Ishmael calls over his shoulder, to Derrick, "No, Derrick. If Contrition means /this/," he gestures back to the RV, "then both Riot and Mouse will learn /nothing/. It's futile until they're both willing to communicate. And I don't just mean talk. Anyways. Sorry. Bye."
Riot reappears at the RV door, slipping on a jacket and with a large backpack (seems like she's been ready for this for a while now) in one hand, and her helmet in the other. Angrily, she strides towards her bike, hefting the backpack over her shoulder once the jacket is on, and putting on the helmet before hopping on the motorbike. Derrick gets an angry glance, "Anything Quiet doesn't want is yours." The Gaian then snaps off the stone from around her neck and throws it viciously back at the RV before gunning the engine.
Derrick doesn't bother responding to Ishmael. He just stares at Riot, after her words, for the briefest of instants, and then he tries manfully to lope over and set himself back of the bike. (This is probably ineffective, but he nonetheless tries.)
Rommy has arrived.
Mouse turns her head sharply. It's just as Riot guns the engine that a rather large stone (the largest she can manage), appears directly in front of her front tire. It's sharp on the end pointed toward it.
Riot's bike swerves as the front tire blows out, falling to the side and forcing the Gaian off the seat. Riot is up on her feet instantly, looking from the stone to Mouse. She lets out a roar, exploding into Crinos as she charges the Elder with murder in her eyes.
Just then, there's a charging figure from the forest. Rommy, it seems, at least from the familiar spear, and as he realizes what's happening, puts on an extra burst of speed.
Derrick didn't quite manage to get on the bike in the first place, and sprawled on his back; now that Riot's up and attacking, he finally gives up, growls, "No one's going to kill /me/, /or/ you," and jumps on Riot's back, boxing her ears. While still in homid. Possibly he's trying to make some kind of deranged point.
The benefits of being metis. Mouse is instantly in crinos, though this time she doesn't try to close with Riot. Quite the contrary, she drops to all fours and darts to the side, the stone and feather necklace she's wearing bouncing lightly against her chest. She's already dripping blood, for the moment, she apparently isn't keen for it to happen again. ~Falcon's Wing!~ she yips in alarm.
Firestarter's completely focused on the Glass Walker before her. Not even the added weight of Derrick's body on her back can stop the young Ahroun from launching herself at Mouse, claws out and jaws wide open, aiming for the throat. Rommy needs to gain more ground, and fast.
Firestarter pages to the room: Leaving it up to you Mouse - Riot's hampered by Derrick's extra weight, so the leap isn't exactly perfect.
Derrick slides off Riot as she launches at Mouse, and lands on his feet. He does not, now, move further.
First-Strike again leaps to the side, though this time she escapes only by a hairs-breadth, and Riot's teeth actually brush the guard hairs of her tail. She circles, keeping on all fours, and trying to keep a certain amount of distance between them. And, as she does, her nostrils flare.
Rommy bursts into Crinos somewhere along that run, ditching the human-sized spear with a mighty throw off to some abandoned part of the meadow. The larger, Crinos-sized spear is firmly strapped to his back. Speeding forward at an inhuman pace, he launches himself at Firebringer.
Firestarter twists her body easily enough now that Derrick is off her back. Just as she was readying herself for another attack, Rommy's massive Crinos figure slams into her smaller one, and she finds herself clawing at her packmate, panic bleeding into the rage.
Derrick growls, as he sidles away to make room for Rommy's attack, "Mouse-rhya. Leave. We will deal with our packmate. You? Are invading her territory. And, now, attacking in unwarranted fashion."
First-Strike is breathing more heavily than ever, and she looks about to help Rommy when Derrick speaks. She turns a look on him. ~Funny. First she wouldn't let me leave it, now I'm invading it. Unwarranted? She's /leaving/. After talking about how the Dancers aren't so bad all afternoon. She knows everything about us, where all of our /new/ safehouses are, and she has /repeatedly/ informed me about how she doesn't give a shit what happens to anyone here. At best, she's going to the Ronin, at worst, she's going to be Carnage's new playtoy. /Unwarranted/?~
Wind-Brother suffers the claws with a low growl, but otherwise focuses on wrestling the woman into a manageable position, once they land. Brawling, he can do. Thus, he attempts to hook his arms around hers and hold her immobilized, all the while urging, ~/Firebringer/. You /have/ the tools. Your sanctuary. Your safe place. /GO/ there!~
Derrick's jaw sets; indeed, he seems to have trouble staying in homid. "Yeah," he spits, after a moment's internal struggle, "She's leaving because you've pushed and pushed and pushed. Get the hell out, so we can /help her/. Because there's no way to do /any/ of that with you /still here/, you vindictive /mustilidae/."
Firestarter, being the smaller, weaker, and less experienced fighter, finds herself immobilized in no time. Panting heavily, the wounds she's taken from Mouse earlier still bleeding, the younger Gaian cries out her protests, ~There /is/ no safe place here! Let me go, Rommy! I know where my sanctuary is, and it's not in my head!~
First-Strike stares at Derrick. ~I pushed.~ Her voice has gone flat, very quiet, and very dangerous. ~/I/ pushed? She has held me here for /hours/, not letting me leave to tell the Alpha the information I've found out or take care of my tribe, to wash her RV by hand, and pick up her papers, and weed her garden, and wash her furniture, and do her dishes, clean her bedroom, re-wire her /ceiling/, she has sat and /watched/ me, stared at me the whole time, reciting lists of chores that I would have to do long enough to drape from the fucking Empire State building and reach ground until I did what /she/ wanted, simpering at me with -rhya this and 'would you please' that, in a fashion that would make the sleaziest, most honorless, cowardly Shadow Lord burst with /pride/, telling me she could go on for /weeks/. she has threatened my life, bullied me, endlessly insulted me, stomped on the very notion of respect over, and over, and over, and /over/ again, and you say /I/ /pushed/ /her/? That /I/ am the one being /vindictive/?!~ She drops to homid like one might drop an old coat, shoves her hand into her pocket, and drags out the paper sack, then dumps it's contents into her hand. It's a stone that Riot, at least, may have seen before. Small, green, with a hole drilled through the middle where a string has been threaded. It's the rock she's used for Questing Stone, though she's added two feathers to it, one white, one silvery grey. "I came here to give Contrition. I came here to /give her this/. It was the stone that saved /my/ life, given to me by /my/ pack alpha, when I was afraid of the dark and other Garou and I woke up screaming in the night."
Wind-Brother, of course, does not such thing. ~Where did you intend to go?~ He asks, loosening his grip enough so that he's not suffocating the girl, but still keeping her immobilized. His attention is suddenly grabbed by Mouse, though he continues. ~I don't know what happened, Firebringer, but there needs to be talk. You do not need to go. It would prove nothing, and you would only be doing more harm than good. Please don't leave us.~
Derrick stares at Mouse as she spurts words. "OK!" he finally says, brightly, energetically. "Sorry we messed up your plans! Now /go away/."
Firestarter tries to wriggle free as soon as she feels Rommy's grip ease. ~No! No more talks. No more punishments. No more accusations. No more /anything/! Harm to who? Me? Fuck it! What more can this Sept do to me short of kill me outright. Let them. I'm sure they can twist the Litany to make it justifiable too! Now. Let. Me. Go!~
Mouse's eyes grow abruptly hot and watery. She closes her fingers around the stone, tightens them until her knuckles grow white. "When she leads them to our door, I hope you're there at my Gathering, so you can tell everyone how I was just asking for it."
Wind-Brother is forced to tighten his grip again, and his words are harsher now, though the tone is still as gentle as a Crinos can manage. ~No. You're acting like a child. And though you do much with good in mind, you try too hard. But you /try/, and there are many here who care for you. Do you truly think it's going to be better at any other Sept? As a Ronin? What if the Dancers get to you? How is any of this going to be better? Firestarter, have you ever truly considered /why/ you were punished?~
Derrick takes a deep, deliberate breath, and then lets it out again. Suddenly, his intonation and word choice is much different. "Mouse-rhya. What would you have me say? Her making you do endless chores is far from the wisest thing I have ever heard, and had I been here I would have counseled against it. But you must see that you are merely making a bad situation worse-- were this in your territory, I would be urging Riot to leave. Since it is not, I am urging you to leave, as undoubtedly you should have done hours ago, before /I/ left."
Firestarter ceases struggling, too exhausted to fight him. ~The Dancers won't get me,~ she murmurs, ~I had a gun pointed at my heart the when I was talking to Adam. I know what to do before anything like that would happen...Anything is better than what I have to go through to be part of this Sept. I don't want it. I want to leave. Why is everyone insistant on keeping me prisoner here! Not even the charach is prisoner!~
"I couldn't," Mouse says. "I tried. I'm not allowed to say no to these things." Her voice is wavering, however, and the heat in her face and behind her eyes doesn't seem to be so much anger as something else. "But you're not urging me. You're blaming me. You're calling me a vindictive /weasel/. Vera called a hunt on me simply for not being in contact. What would she do the moment she heard Riot had taken off, after the things Riot said? After the things she's said for /ages/ now. And that's assuming Vera'd get to her first. I know...I /know/ what happens next, Derrick. I didn't /stop/ it before."
Wind-Brother rests his head against her shoulder, though he has not yet let her go. ~Your words,~ he says quietly. ~I have not been here long enough to /truly/ understand, but I can deduce. You seem to try so much--too much, and often, it seems that what you do falls apart, backfires, or is otherwise unsuccessful. But why do you call it a prison?~
Derrick looks, briefly, embarrassed. "That was unjust of me. I meant ferret, in truth, but even then, I should not have said it, and I do apologize, as best as I am able. But--" Recovering his expression, it becomes more intent, sad. "Mouse-rhya. Zeke said they were to be small tasks, menial tasks, and that you cannot refuse, true. But he /also/ said they could not become ridiculous, and this has become so. And you have the power to protest, but you did not. That /aside/--" He sighs, again. "You are assuming we-- her pack-- would be so callous as to allow her to leave, without further action, and without the weight of our love, and our Totem's love. I recognize that your recent... difficulties... are affecting your actions, but..." He trails off and shrugs, palms up. "You are not the appropriate person to intervene here, not now."
Firestarter lets out a soft whine, ~They keep me on a tight leash. They think I want to betray them. I just want to /leave/. I won't betray anyone. It's not fair of them to keep me here. It's not /right/. Being Garou does not mean you're a prisoner.~
Mouse's lips tighten. "I can't refuse, or question," she says. "Those were his words. He said if people violated his conditions it would be on their heads. But /my/ responsibility is to learn how to follow orders, even if I don't like them, especially if they're inconvenient." Her lips tighten more, and then purse. "At least she gave me fucking chores. Everyone else has been whining at me how it's so unfair." She glances at Riot, then back to Derrick. "...I know. But. Then. Can I...at the edge of the forest? I won't be able to hear, or see. But I can...be there. If...if there /is/ something I can do, tonight."
Wind-Brother continues to nuzzle her neck in the best comforting manner he can muster. ~No, not betray us. They're afraid you'll betray yourself. At least, those of us who care are afraid of that. You put out so much energy--so much action. This can be a good thing, but your choices can be sometimes... erratic, difficult to quantify, plan around. We want you to be part of our /team/ Riot, so we can watch after you, and you after us. So we can listen to your plans, and stand behind you in your actions, but also give you counsel, and share what wisdom we have to temper all that energy you've got. So don't give up. Gaia knows it can be difficult, but /don't/ give up.~
Derrick blinks slowly. "Please pardon me, I had, I suspect, heard it wrong. Again, my apologies. But I will try to speak to Zeke on your behalf." He glances back at the RV, then over to Mouse. "Mouse-rhya. You have a cell phone. If you wish to... worry and fret... would not going to Edgewood House work, so that you might be near, but would not still be... exacerbating the problem with your presence?"
Firestarter goes quiet at that, dropping her head down with a tired sigh. She slumps a bit against him, unwilling to argue anymore.
Mouse ducks her head, cheeks reddening. She seems to have completely forgotten her own injuries, or the bleeding, apart from the growing stiffness in her movements. "I came here to give Contrition," she mumbles. "Then by the time she finally agreed to it, we were both so worked up I couldn't do it. Now it's back to square one, with more death threats." She glances briefly toward Riot again, then again back to Derrick. "...I'm sorry." And that, more than anything, sounds sincere. She turns, intending to give Riot and Rommy a wide berth, but heading for the trees.
Wind-Brother's wrestling grip transmutes into a hug, and he seems more than happy to allow her weight to rest against him. ~There are problems,~ he admits softly, petting her head in a soft gesture that might seem odd for the strength in his forelimbs, "but we will deal with them, one by one, until all that remains is the sky.~
Derrick says, evenly, "As am I," though for what, is unclear.
Firestarter takes in a shaky breath at the hug, falling into the embrace with no complaint. She keeps her silence, avoiding his gaze and reverting back to her birth form once she's released. Mouse's exit is caught out of the corner of her eye, and the younger Gaian turns to watch her go, waiting until the Glass Walker is out of earshot before murmuring, "I wanted this resolved. Now it won't be," she looks up at Rommy then, "I honestly want to go, Rommy. This isn't some tantrum. I really do want to leave."
Mouse falls to lupus about when she hits the tree line. Her form is /less/ than graceful. In fact, as her front legs hit the ground, they crumple right under her, and for a moment, she flops onto her side before she rights herself and vanishes, limping heavily.
