04-06-2014, 11:11 PM
As the time for the moot descends, it's a special night. All moot nights are special of course, but tonight is different. Tonight is a lunar eclipse. That's an omen to some, make no mistake. And it might draw skepticism in some that this night, when Luna will be spattered blood-red, the moot will be opened by the biggest peacenik in the greater Denver area. Keisha Ballard, Still Waters, doesn't even shed blood. How can she possibly be the right person to open a moot when that color stains the face of an Ahroun moon?
Well, stay a minute because she may surprise you.
It begins, as it did the last time she was Caller of the Wyld, in the morning, long before the moot is actually set to start. She comes here, dressed in a red sarong with her feet bare. She has already purified herself in mind, body and spirit, something she's taken care to ready for over the past few days. Her hair is let loose, brown dreadlocks falling gently around her shoulders with fire stones carefully braided into it. Apache's tears, for cleansing and grounding. Aventurine and tiger's eye for energy. Around her neck, a simple piece of twine with a piece of amber to strenghten her throat chakra. This is how she comes to find the spot, positioned within a clearing deep within the park, where the moot will begin.
When she finds the place she slips out of the sarong and sits there, skyclad, in meditation. She takes her time, soaking in the energy of the land. There is no need for her to rush; she's here all day. She focuses on the enormity of the moot, takes joy and peace from the wildness around her. She is Keeper of the Land for the Cold Crescent now and while she's always had as much of an affinity for the deep parts of the wilderness as any Garou, she feels even closer now. It's joyful and exuberant, but contemplative. Reflective. She is lost out there for what may seem like days to her, but is only hours. Either way, it is not enough--will never be enough. But it will have to do.
She's almost done, but not quite. She takes a few more hours to build a pyre. It's no quick thing; she gathers together wood from the ground, not taking any directly from the trees. Even the pieces she does take where they fell from their trees get a brief but sincere thank you to the spirits for their offerings. The stack of wood isn't enormous--she's not trying to set the whole place ablaze, obviously--but it could be called large, reaching a spot at about waist level. She makes sure it is clear all the way around it so that the fire won't spread, readies herself. It's almost time.
And then, of course, the time comes. The shadows are growing longer, and Luna is rising. She begins to summon the spirits, sets the fire. The smell of smoke is the signal of where to come, and come they do one and all. Two legs, four legs, it matters not; they come here after humankind has fled the park. And they converge on this location where the multi-racial Child of Gaia waits. And when they come, she begins.
She is no singer like her packsister. Like Raspberry Sky, honored now that she's gone. But that doesn't mean that she doesn't sing. And luckily, some songs you don't need the voice of an angel for. One of those songs we will hear tonight, as Keisha holds her staff high in the air and shouts like a musical call to arms,
Put on your war paint!
The staff comes down, starts banging out the rhythm. Certainly, many here don't know the Fall Out Boy song, but the words aren't the important part. It's the defiance, the willingness to stand in the face of the swirling end of everything and the courage to say that This Will Not Stand. That's the spirit of the song. That and the theme of rising from the ashes, much like the Cold Crescent is doing now. Much like the Garou of Denver are, stronger than ever. And she begins to power her way through, her energy beginning to rising to as the first verse comes on.
You are a brick tied to me that's dragging me down
Strike a match and I'll burn you to the ground
We are the jack-o-lanterns in July, setting fire to the sky
Here, here comes this rising tide so come on
Put on your war paint
Cross walks and crossed hearts and hope-to-dies
Silver clouds with grey linings
As she sing-shouts the rapid-fire lyrics she moves from person to person, the staff pounding against the ground as she brings her manic energy to each and every one of them. Here, Thomas Delacroix gets a clap on the shoulder. There, Ruby Lee finds the slight young Theurge in her face, grinning and stamping her foot on the ground as she raises the staff in the air. When she finds Phoebe she goes forehead-to-forehead with her Alpha, exultant eyes locked on before pulling back to get the whole crowd into the spirit.
So we can take the world back from a heart attack
One maniac at a time we will take it back
You know time crawls on when you're waiting for the song to start
So dance along to the beat of your heart
Hey young blood
Doesn't it feel like our time is running out
I'm gonna change you like a remix
Then I'll raise you like a phoenix
Wearing our vintage misery
No, I think it looked a little better on me
I'm gonna change you like a remix
Then I'll raise you like a phoenix
And that chorus repeats, over and over, rising in passion and strength until they're all there. And the fire is burned down at that point, enough that Keisha draws them through the shadowy wall of the Gauntlet into the Penumbra. The sarong slips off as she takes Crinos form and she howls, clear and clean, guiding the others into their calls to bring the moot to an impassioned beginning.
Samael @ 2:00PM
[[Charisma+Performance, spending WP because she doesn't have a lot of dice for this!]]
Roll: 4 d10 TN6 (5, 5, 8, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP] VALID
jamie @ 2:01PM
Awyiss. Witnessed.
[[The song in question, for those that may not know it, is below for reference]]
Well, stay a minute because she may surprise you.
It begins, as it did the last time she was Caller of the Wyld, in the morning, long before the moot is actually set to start. She comes here, dressed in a red sarong with her feet bare. She has already purified herself in mind, body and spirit, something she's taken care to ready for over the past few days. Her hair is let loose, brown dreadlocks falling gently around her shoulders with fire stones carefully braided into it. Apache's tears, for cleansing and grounding. Aventurine and tiger's eye for energy. Around her neck, a simple piece of twine with a piece of amber to strenghten her throat chakra. This is how she comes to find the spot, positioned within a clearing deep within the park, where the moot will begin.
When she finds the place she slips out of the sarong and sits there, skyclad, in meditation. She takes her time, soaking in the energy of the land. There is no need for her to rush; she's here all day. She focuses on the enormity of the moot, takes joy and peace from the wildness around her. She is Keeper of the Land for the Cold Crescent now and while she's always had as much of an affinity for the deep parts of the wilderness as any Garou, she feels even closer now. It's joyful and exuberant, but contemplative. Reflective. She is lost out there for what may seem like days to her, but is only hours. Either way, it is not enough--will never be enough. But it will have to do.
She's almost done, but not quite. She takes a few more hours to build a pyre. It's no quick thing; she gathers together wood from the ground, not taking any directly from the trees. Even the pieces she does take where they fell from their trees get a brief but sincere thank you to the spirits for their offerings. The stack of wood isn't enormous--she's not trying to set the whole place ablaze, obviously--but it could be called large, reaching a spot at about waist level. She makes sure it is clear all the way around it so that the fire won't spread, readies herself. It's almost time.
And then, of course, the time comes. The shadows are growing longer, and Luna is rising. She begins to summon the spirits, sets the fire. The smell of smoke is the signal of where to come, and come they do one and all. Two legs, four legs, it matters not; they come here after humankind has fled the park. And they converge on this location where the multi-racial Child of Gaia waits. And when they come, she begins.
She is no singer like her packsister. Like Raspberry Sky, honored now that she's gone. But that doesn't mean that she doesn't sing. And luckily, some songs you don't need the voice of an angel for. One of those songs we will hear tonight, as Keisha holds her staff high in the air and shouts like a musical call to arms,
Put on your war paint!
The staff comes down, starts banging out the rhythm. Certainly, many here don't know the Fall Out Boy song, but the words aren't the important part. It's the defiance, the willingness to stand in the face of the swirling end of everything and the courage to say that This Will Not Stand. That's the spirit of the song. That and the theme of rising from the ashes, much like the Cold Crescent is doing now. Much like the Garou of Denver are, stronger than ever. And she begins to power her way through, her energy beginning to rising to as the first verse comes on.
You are a brick tied to me that's dragging me down
Strike a match and I'll burn you to the ground
We are the jack-o-lanterns in July, setting fire to the sky
Here, here comes this rising tide so come on
Put on your war paint
Cross walks and crossed hearts and hope-to-dies
Silver clouds with grey linings
As she sing-shouts the rapid-fire lyrics she moves from person to person, the staff pounding against the ground as she brings her manic energy to each and every one of them. Here, Thomas Delacroix gets a clap on the shoulder. There, Ruby Lee finds the slight young Theurge in her face, grinning and stamping her foot on the ground as she raises the staff in the air. When she finds Phoebe she goes forehead-to-forehead with her Alpha, exultant eyes locked on before pulling back to get the whole crowd into the spirit.
So we can take the world back from a heart attack
One maniac at a time we will take it back
You know time crawls on when you're waiting for the song to start
So dance along to the beat of your heart
Hey young blood
Doesn't it feel like our time is running out
I'm gonna change you like a remix
Then I'll raise you like a phoenix
Wearing our vintage misery
No, I think it looked a little better on me
I'm gonna change you like a remix
Then I'll raise you like a phoenix
And that chorus repeats, over and over, rising in passion and strength until they're all there. And the fire is burned down at that point, enough that Keisha draws them through the shadowy wall of the Gauntlet into the Penumbra. The sarong slips off as she takes Crinos form and she howls, clear and clean, guiding the others into their calls to bring the moot to an impassioned beginning.
Samael @ 2:00PM
[[Charisma+Performance, spending WP because she doesn't have a lot of dice for this!]]
Roll: 4 d10 TN6 (5, 5, 8, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP] VALID
jamie @ 2:01PM
Awyiss. Witnessed.
[[The song in question, for those that may not know it, is below for reference]]
"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."