10-31-2013, 11:11 PM
The End of October.
26th.
Tamsin isn't an alcoholic (yet). But she drinks often because Fianna are supposed to drink. Because she got into the habit. Because she likes the traditions and camraderie that go along with alcohol. Because she doesn't have resist pain so after a battle's done even one where there're theurges who re-knit burned-up sloughed-off flesh and fur almost as soon as blood and singeing occurs some part of her brain shudders against it. Besides she can just shrug off the effects of alcohol can't she. Toxin, resist. Poison, git out. The point is that the Fianna isn't an alcoholic yet but she gets herself a drink after she stays with Raspberry Sky's body and finds out if it has to be moved and where it'll be moved to and she is hesitant on that note.
Hesitant because - and see, she'll say this to her elders (whoever it is that the Great Alpha has put in charge of dismantling portions of Cold Crescent) - maybe Raspberry Sky should be the last garou buried at Cold Crescent. Because the dead answered Black Sheep's call here. The dead who'd had their hearts taken the dead who Beloved Horror'd killed the dead who'd died for Cold Crescent: they'd answered a call.
The point is: the business of the dead which is also the business of the living, any final investigation into the tunnels after the three who escaped, hackles-raised, hackles,-raised, grr, grr, grr, after that she wants a drink. And she gets one, too. And then, because Tamsin's understanding of her auspice is the understanding that a bard might have, and she understands that it is her duty, her moon-given reason for existing, to spread the word, to make sure that what happened is a thing that is known, and the next moot is three quarters of a moon away. The elders need to know what happened. The cliaths need to know what happened. Hell, the cubs should know what happened: the cubs who were rescued, especially.
Besides, the season's turning.
26th. 27th. 28th. 30th.
There are rites to learn for the season's change. Rites to observe and to take part of.
The Galliards who were there do share what happened.
Cinder Song, Furious Lament, Fianna Galliard, makes a point of it, hanging out where the Forgotten Questions garou usually gather.
How she tells the story depends on who she's telling it to. Who's listening, the audience's needs. Tamsin is a better - at least a more comfortable - storyteller when there isn't a big group. When it's one or two or three, even four or five, people listening to her, something about the immediacy relieves the anxiety that grips her during moots.
What they said. How they laughed, she tells them. How they laughed at Storm's Teeth's rage and grief. How the Horror laughed at them all and wanted to make them a jest to die without honor with the enemy's laughter the last bitter draught.
And how they stopped laughing, she tells them.
All of it.
Her recall is Perfect.
[ooc: Consider this a mood. More later! I'ma try to post a couple different versions. If your character wasn't all Beloved Horror Boo Don't Like You and You want your Very Own Personal Tamsin Story, just FPM me and I'll write-'cha one.
In fact, uh. If on any of those dates above you wanna say your garou asked Tamsin for a story about X, just FPM me and I'll totes FPM provide a personal tailored story of ancestor/old packmate/PCs doings/whatever. LIMITED TIME OFFER. (Nah it's not.)]
26th.
Tamsin isn't an alcoholic (yet). But she drinks often because Fianna are supposed to drink. Because she got into the habit. Because she likes the traditions and camraderie that go along with alcohol. Because she doesn't have resist pain so after a battle's done even one where there're theurges who re-knit burned-up sloughed-off flesh and fur almost as soon as blood and singeing occurs some part of her brain shudders against it. Besides she can just shrug off the effects of alcohol can't she. Toxin, resist. Poison, git out. The point is that the Fianna isn't an alcoholic yet but she gets herself a drink after she stays with Raspberry Sky's body and finds out if it has to be moved and where it'll be moved to and she is hesitant on that note.
Hesitant because - and see, she'll say this to her elders (whoever it is that the Great Alpha has put in charge of dismantling portions of Cold Crescent) - maybe Raspberry Sky should be the last garou buried at Cold Crescent. Because the dead answered Black Sheep's call here. The dead who'd had their hearts taken the dead who Beloved Horror'd killed the dead who'd died for Cold Crescent: they'd answered a call.
The point is: the business of the dead which is also the business of the living, any final investigation into the tunnels after the three who escaped, hackles-raised, hackles,-raised, grr, grr, grr, after that she wants a drink. And she gets one, too. And then, because Tamsin's understanding of her auspice is the understanding that a bard might have, and she understands that it is her duty, her moon-given reason for existing, to spread the word, to make sure that what happened is a thing that is known, and the next moot is three quarters of a moon away. The elders need to know what happened. The cliaths need to know what happened. Hell, the cubs should know what happened: the cubs who were rescued, especially.
Besides, the season's turning.
26th. 27th. 28th. 30th.
There are rites to learn for the season's change. Rites to observe and to take part of.
The Galliards who were there do share what happened.
Cinder Song, Furious Lament, Fianna Galliard, makes a point of it, hanging out where the Forgotten Questions garou usually gather.
How she tells the story depends on who she's telling it to. Who's listening, the audience's needs. Tamsin is a better - at least a more comfortable - storyteller when there isn't a big group. When it's one or two or three, even four or five, people listening to her, something about the immediacy relieves the anxiety that grips her during moots.
What they said. How they laughed, she tells them. How they laughed at Storm's Teeth's rage and grief. How the Horror laughed at them all and wanted to make them a jest to die without honor with the enemy's laughter the last bitter draught.
And how they stopped laughing, she tells them.
All of it.
Her recall is Perfect.
[ooc: Consider this a mood. More later! I'ma try to post a couple different versions. If your character wasn't all Beloved Horror Boo Don't Like You and You want your Very Own Personal Tamsin Story, just FPM me and I'll write-'cha one.
In fact, uh. If on any of those dates above you wanna say your garou asked Tamsin for a story about X, just FPM me and I'll totes FPM provide a personal tailored story of ancestor/old packmate/PCs doings/whatever. LIMITED TIME OFFER. (Nah it's not.)]