She was sleeping when the call went out. She doesn't do that as much as she used to, but since the events at the Cold Crescent and the emotional release that came with a visit to the graveyard, it has been easier for her to get an extra hour or so a night (the sum still doesn't hit a healthy level exactly, but it's better). And thus, when she is roused by the call, she has the beginnings of a grumble, even as she's already pulling herself out of bed.
That grumbling dies when she realizes what this might be. And she's not even close to asleep now. Keisha Ballard, ahimsa Theurge of the Children of Gaia, is as awake as awake can be.
She arrives in due time, having driven there as quickly as traffic laws will allow. Which is not to say that she doesn't have a sense of urgency, but I got pulled over is most certainly not a valid excuse. She arrives in time to find her packsisters, stepping up to them in a quickly-thrown on T-Shirt and jeans. She sets the end of her new staff--treated and capped so that it's functional, but otherwise unfinished--against the ground. She doesn't offer a return smile to Phoebe's; she's too nervous, unsure of what might happen for that. She does lean against her Alpha briefly, and reaches out to touch Winona's shoulder.
And then it's time for judgment. Keisha is a gentle soul, and her reaction is about what you might expect. She has a look of relief when Hunter of Peace receives a judgment for mercy, and she joins with all the Garou there in turning her back on Retribution's Fist. She does not join in with the stories of scorn against Forge of Nótt although, like Phoebe, Keisha will most certainly be learning from her.
The next one is harder for her. She cringes when the box is brought, but she does not look away. And her breath catches when Warning Threshold is hoisted up, a chunk of his body torn away. She doesn't just flinch; she does in fact turn her head, for just an instant, when the former Warder's wolf is taken from him.
And finally, worst of all. Keisha Ballard--Still Waters--values the sanctity of life. She knows the purpose and value of Punishment Rites, and she believes in them. They strengthen the Nation by defining unacceptable behavior and the consequences of such to the Garou and kinfolk. And yet...this one she has never been able to abide. The loss of their own, in her mind, does not strengthen the Garou; it harms them.
And yet, as much as she wants to join with Erich in protesting and fighting this, even as futile as that would be. Every bit of her wants to stand up as that famous poem from Martin Niemöller circles around her brain, a set of words and ideals that she has known by heart since she was a little girl (bless her mother):
First they came for the communists, and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a communist.
Then they came for the socialists, and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a trade unionist.
Then they came for me, and there was no one left to speak for me.
And yet she doesn't speak out. Because she already has. They had their opportunity to speak at the moot, and she argued. And she cannot even say that it didn't have results, because perhaps they all would have died if not for those who spoke out. And as strongly as she holds to her ideals, she knows that everyone has their own path. It isn't her way to violently resist--which is not to say that she won't fight for what she believes in. And she admires what Erich is doing. But here, now...it's not the way for her.
And thus, she stays quiet. She can't watch all of it. At the end, her eyes are shut, but she hasn't turned away. She hears the screams, those agonized shrieks, and it has as much effect on her as the sight would have. She looks sick. That's because she is. And saline tracks have found their way down her face that she'll quickly wipe away as effectively as she can before attention turns away from what's happened.
And after it's all done, she looks to Erich. But he has his pack, and they will tend to him. Her lips purse and she turns, walking away with her fellow Oracles even as a part of her is left behind. She's left so many of those parts around this city; what's one more?
---------------------
Alexis also comes. The Fury kin is there like anyone else, having arrived as soon as he heard. He has no family to rouse, no children to look after, and so he gets there fairly quickly. He chooses, when he arrives, to stand near the Desert Oracles and Phoebe in the same way that Lola does Celduin. He has witnessed Punishment Rites as part of his old sept, where his mother ensured that he was brought into the Nation's ways from a young age. He wasn't much older than some of the children being held tonight when his father held him to watch judgment passed on the Garou.
He has seen some of these before, and those he doesn't, he doesn't look away from. Alexis is not a harsh man; while he is a capable fighter by any kinfolk's definition, he prefers to help people heal and defend themselves. That is not to say, however, that he is soft. And there is an almost military way in how he stands to observe, like the at-ease stance of a formation. He's witnessed some bad things in his time, but by no means is he impassive over this. The gravity of each punishment, from the lightest of them to the chillingly final, weighs upon them all. And while he never looks away, there are times when he sets his jaw or his spine goes rigid.
And thus like all others, Alexis Theron Lambros observes the justice of the Garou Nation meted out.
That grumbling dies when she realizes what this might be. And she's not even close to asleep now. Keisha Ballard, ahimsa Theurge of the Children of Gaia, is as awake as awake can be.
She arrives in due time, having driven there as quickly as traffic laws will allow. Which is not to say that she doesn't have a sense of urgency, but I got pulled over is most certainly not a valid excuse. She arrives in time to find her packsisters, stepping up to them in a quickly-thrown on T-Shirt and jeans. She sets the end of her new staff--treated and capped so that it's functional, but otherwise unfinished--against the ground. She doesn't offer a return smile to Phoebe's; she's too nervous, unsure of what might happen for that. She does lean against her Alpha briefly, and reaches out to touch Winona's shoulder.
And then it's time for judgment. Keisha is a gentle soul, and her reaction is about what you might expect. She has a look of relief when Hunter of Peace receives a judgment for mercy, and she joins with all the Garou there in turning her back on Retribution's Fist. She does not join in with the stories of scorn against Forge of Nótt although, like Phoebe, Keisha will most certainly be learning from her.
The next one is harder for her. She cringes when the box is brought, but she does not look away. And her breath catches when Warning Threshold is hoisted up, a chunk of his body torn away. She doesn't just flinch; she does in fact turn her head, for just an instant, when the former Warder's wolf is taken from him.
And finally, worst of all. Keisha Ballard--Still Waters--values the sanctity of life. She knows the purpose and value of Punishment Rites, and she believes in them. They strengthen the Nation by defining unacceptable behavior and the consequences of such to the Garou and kinfolk. And yet...this one she has never been able to abide. The loss of their own, in her mind, does not strengthen the Garou; it harms them.
And yet, as much as she wants to join with Erich in protesting and fighting this, even as futile as that would be. Every bit of her wants to stand up as that famous poem from Martin Niemöller circles around her brain, a set of words and ideals that she has known by heart since she was a little girl (bless her mother):
First they came for the communists, and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a communist.
Then they came for the socialists, and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a trade unionist.
Then they came for me, and there was no one left to speak for me.
And yet she doesn't speak out. Because she already has. They had their opportunity to speak at the moot, and she argued. And she cannot even say that it didn't have results, because perhaps they all would have died if not for those who spoke out. And as strongly as she holds to her ideals, she knows that everyone has their own path. It isn't her way to violently resist--which is not to say that she won't fight for what she believes in. And she admires what Erich is doing. But here, now...it's not the way for her.
And thus, she stays quiet. She can't watch all of it. At the end, her eyes are shut, but she hasn't turned away. She hears the screams, those agonized shrieks, and it has as much effect on her as the sight would have. She looks sick. That's because she is. And saline tracks have found their way down her face that she'll quickly wipe away as effectively as she can before attention turns away from what's happened.
And after it's all done, she looks to Erich. But he has his pack, and they will tend to him. Her lips purse and she turns, walking away with her fellow Oracles even as a part of her is left behind. She's left so many of those parts around this city; what's one more?
---------------------
Alexis also comes. The Fury kin is there like anyone else, having arrived as soon as he heard. He has no family to rouse, no children to look after, and so he gets there fairly quickly. He chooses, when he arrives, to stand near the Desert Oracles and Phoebe in the same way that Lola does Celduin. He has witnessed Punishment Rites as part of his old sept, where his mother ensured that he was brought into the Nation's ways from a young age. He wasn't much older than some of the children being held tonight when his father held him to watch judgment passed on the Garou.
He has seen some of these before, and those he doesn't, he doesn't look away from. Alexis is not a harsh man; while he is a capable fighter by any kinfolk's definition, he prefers to help people heal and defend themselves. That is not to say, however, that he is soft. And there is an almost military way in how he stands to observe, like the at-ease stance of a formation. He's witnessed some bad things in his time, but by no means is he impassive over this. The gravity of each punishment, from the lightest of them to the chillingly final, weighs upon them all. And while he never looks away, there are times when he sets his jaw or his spine goes rigid.
And thus like all others, Alexis Theron Lambros observes the justice of the Garou Nation meted out.
"The anger of a good man is not a problem. Good men have too many rules."
"Good men don't need rules. And today's not the day to find out why I have so many."
"Good men don't need rules. And today's not the day to find out why I have so many."