08-24-2013, 12:00 PM
November 3rd, 2006
Roxborough State Park
9:45pm
Four teenagers stood in a line, shoulder to shoulder. They were dressed for the chill of the night, but not as heavily as more cautious people would; hoodies and light jackets were the theme. The park was closed, and the young ones gathered at a break of flat pounded land that formed a sort of cul-de-sac off a point where one hiking trail split in a fork to go two directions.
Their teacher for the night, a twenty-something with a wiry untamed growth of beard that he scratched at frequently, was sitting on a log laid down on the edge of this dirt circle, using it as a bench as so many hikers would. The young ones had been standing in formation like this for the past five minutes, quiet, watching their teacher lounge on the log. Their expressions were ones of impatience and aggravation, but they said and did nothing.
Finally, the man stood and closed distance so he was directly in front of them. Scratching his beard and surveying the teenagers, he said:
"So we have our Cubs. They want me to teach ya something, and what I do is up to me, just so long as it's useful. I was thinking I'd take you all to the Other Side, but then I found out two of you haven't even had the decency to have your Change yet."
One of the two girls among them, a tough and stringy brown-skinned thing, glanced to one of the two boys that was present-- this one a lanky teen with a mop of red curls on his head, glanced at each other. The boy with red hair looked a little guilty and shifted his eyes somewhere else, off into the distance. The girl pressed her lips together with displeasure and resumed her hard stare at their instructor.
The instructor paid no mind to the exchange. "I'm Matthias, one of you already knows me. I'm not really from around here, but your Elders asked me to do this as a way of earning my keep while I hang around. But that isn't why we're here, is it? It's all about your shining, hopeful faces."
The fact that none of the faces shone or looked particularly hopeful only caused him to smirk at his own joke. An arm unfolded from where it was wrapped close to his chest and he pointed to a girl with mass of dense natural curls standing at the end of the line. "Starting with you, what are you gonna be when you Grow the Fuck Up?"
One by one, the teenagers announced themselves to their teacher.
The girl that was pointed to first was almost sixteen years old, and dressed in a beat-up leather jacket and tight black jeans and gloves for her hands. She had a bit of Southern California in her dialect when she spoke: "Teagan James. I'm a Galliard. I'm gonna be a Black Fury," she announced her tribe of choice proudly, because she had chosen it, not been born into it. It was a badge she wanted to wear in her lapel.
Beside her stood a pale young man who looked younger than he was-- he could pass for a pre-teen still with his scrawny limbs and lack of height, but he was solidly fifteen years old as well. His hair was dark and short, his eyes a brilliant blue behind thick-rimmed glasses. He spoke quietly: "Ivan Drugal. Theurge." His glasses were pushed back up the bridge of his nose. "Shadow Lord." He didn't need to say it for the Garou there to know-- his blood was full of Thunder after all.
Next in line was the tallest of the bunch. The gangly boy with red hair, a plain face, and hands that were too big for the rest of him shrugged his shoulders awkwardly. He spoke in a voice that crackled from a recent drop that he hadn't adjusted to yet. "Ed Luske. I'll be a Skald."
Last but not least was the brown-skinned girl. She was tough, with stringy muscles and scrapes on her knees and a shadowy ghost of a bruise seeing its way out on her forehead. She had pitch colored hair cut short, and though she slicked it back habitually it hung persistently in her eyes. "Lola Hawkes," she announced with a proud chin jutted out. "Uktena Ahroun."
"Alright," answered Matthias. He wrapped his arms across his chest once more and studied the four teens for a second before asking: "Who can shift?"
Teagan and Ivan raised their hands. Ed looked a touch embarrassed, and Lola looked a tiny bit defensive but said nothing.
"Good," said their teacher for the evening. Then, with index and middle finger, he pointed to two teens together at a time. "You and you," he indicated to Ed and Teagan. "You and you," this time, to Ivan and Lola. He paired them up-- one Changed with one Unchanged. "You guys are partners. We're splitting up for the night. This isn't a competition, you're not teams, so don't think of it that way.
"You will stick with one another, and you're going to head that way--" now he pointed north with his whole hand. "Just keep going. You'll know when you're done."
"Excuse me," piped Teagan, "but what are we doing?"
Matthias grinned from under that rough brown beard and turned to walk back to the log. As he went, he drew a cigarette from a pack he had tucked in the breast pocket of his flannel shirt. Knees bent so he could plant himself on that log again, and just prior to placing the cigarette between his lips he said, simply: "Surviving."
He lit the cigarette, took his first drag, and exhaled. Then, with brown eyes flashing, he bade them: "Go."
Roxborough State Park
9:45pm
Four teenagers stood in a line, shoulder to shoulder. They were dressed for the chill of the night, but not as heavily as more cautious people would; hoodies and light jackets were the theme. The park was closed, and the young ones gathered at a break of flat pounded land that formed a sort of cul-de-sac off a point where one hiking trail split in a fork to go two directions.
Their teacher for the night, a twenty-something with a wiry untamed growth of beard that he scratched at frequently, was sitting on a log laid down on the edge of this dirt circle, using it as a bench as so many hikers would. The young ones had been standing in formation like this for the past five minutes, quiet, watching their teacher lounge on the log. Their expressions were ones of impatience and aggravation, but they said and did nothing.
Finally, the man stood and closed distance so he was directly in front of them. Scratching his beard and surveying the teenagers, he said:
"So we have our Cubs. They want me to teach ya something, and what I do is up to me, just so long as it's useful. I was thinking I'd take you all to the Other Side, but then I found out two of you haven't even had the decency to have your Change yet."
One of the two girls among them, a tough and stringy brown-skinned thing, glanced to one of the two boys that was present-- this one a lanky teen with a mop of red curls on his head, glanced at each other. The boy with red hair looked a little guilty and shifted his eyes somewhere else, off into the distance. The girl pressed her lips together with displeasure and resumed her hard stare at their instructor.
The instructor paid no mind to the exchange. "I'm Matthias, one of you already knows me. I'm not really from around here, but your Elders asked me to do this as a way of earning my keep while I hang around. But that isn't why we're here, is it? It's all about your shining, hopeful faces."
The fact that none of the faces shone or looked particularly hopeful only caused him to smirk at his own joke. An arm unfolded from where it was wrapped close to his chest and he pointed to a girl with mass of dense natural curls standing at the end of the line. "Starting with you, what are you gonna be when you Grow the Fuck Up?"
One by one, the teenagers announced themselves to their teacher.
The girl that was pointed to first was almost sixteen years old, and dressed in a beat-up leather jacket and tight black jeans and gloves for her hands. She had a bit of Southern California in her dialect when she spoke: "Teagan James. I'm a Galliard. I'm gonna be a Black Fury," she announced her tribe of choice proudly, because she had chosen it, not been born into it. It was a badge she wanted to wear in her lapel.
Beside her stood a pale young man who looked younger than he was-- he could pass for a pre-teen still with his scrawny limbs and lack of height, but he was solidly fifteen years old as well. His hair was dark and short, his eyes a brilliant blue behind thick-rimmed glasses. He spoke quietly: "Ivan Drugal. Theurge." His glasses were pushed back up the bridge of his nose. "Shadow Lord." He didn't need to say it for the Garou there to know-- his blood was full of Thunder after all.
Next in line was the tallest of the bunch. The gangly boy with red hair, a plain face, and hands that were too big for the rest of him shrugged his shoulders awkwardly. He spoke in a voice that crackled from a recent drop that he hadn't adjusted to yet. "Ed Luske. I'll be a Skald."
Last but not least was the brown-skinned girl. She was tough, with stringy muscles and scrapes on her knees and a shadowy ghost of a bruise seeing its way out on her forehead. She had pitch colored hair cut short, and though she slicked it back habitually it hung persistently in her eyes. "Lola Hawkes," she announced with a proud chin jutted out. "Uktena Ahroun."
"Alright," answered Matthias. He wrapped his arms across his chest once more and studied the four teens for a second before asking: "Who can shift?"
Teagan and Ivan raised their hands. Ed looked a touch embarrassed, and Lola looked a tiny bit defensive but said nothing.
"Good," said their teacher for the evening. Then, with index and middle finger, he pointed to two teens together at a time. "You and you," he indicated to Ed and Teagan. "You and you," this time, to Ivan and Lola. He paired them up-- one Changed with one Unchanged. "You guys are partners. We're splitting up for the night. This isn't a competition, you're not teams, so don't think of it that way.
"You will stick with one another, and you're going to head that way--" now he pointed north with his whole hand. "Just keep going. You'll know when you're done."
"Excuse me," piped Teagan, "but what are we doing?"
Matthias grinned from under that rough brown beard and turned to walk back to the log. As he went, he drew a cigarette from a pack he had tucked in the breast pocket of his flannel shirt. Knees bent so he could plant himself on that log again, and just prior to placing the cigarette between his lips he said, simply: "Surviving."
He lit the cigarette, took his first drag, and exhaled. Then, with brown eyes flashing, he bade them: "Go."