05-19-2013, 03:12 AM
The bone is cracked, the pieces left on the ground as a reminder of all that has been discussed and settled here tonight, and Eternal Reassurance bows away from the circle to the tall, broad-shouldered form of tonight's Talesinger. Who speaks loudly. All the time.
"ALL RIGHT," shouts Eulogy in Blood, the Cliath Skald who has, in fact, done this before. She's a favorite of both septs when it comes to running this part of the moot. "ALL OF YOU OUT THERE WHO THINK YOU DESERVE TO BE HEARD, YOU BETTER BRING IT. YOU WANNA TELL SOME STUPID STORY ABOUT YOUR BEST FRIEND KILLING SOME BANE,"
here she lifts her hands to either side, rolling her eyes and waving her hands as though to say oooh, so impressive,
"WELL, YOU BETTER UNDERSTAND THAT AIN'T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THAT. AND IF YOU DON'T BRING IT, UNDERSTAND THAT I WILL MAKE FUN OF YOU FOR THE NEXT MONTH. YOU WILL PROBABLY EVEN GET A NICKNAME. I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE ATHRO BIG-BRITCHES WHATSHISFACE, I WILL MAKE YOU WISH YOU NEVER OPENED YOUR FAT MOUTH. HELL -- I'LL EVEN INTERRUPT YOU IF YOU MAKE THE ELDERS START YAWNING."
She grins, almost manic. It's her job to take everyone from the serious, orderly affair of the Cracking and gear them up for the revel. Everyone is restless. They want to move. They want to yell, and there she is, yelling.
"ALSO, FUNNY STORIES ABOUT SOME IDIOT BEING AN IDIOT ARE ACCEPTABLE. THEN WE CAN ALL LEARN FROM THEIR MISTAKES AND BE ENTERTAINED WHILE WE DO IT." She's walking all over, long strides, rather than standing near the middle as Raspberry Sky or Eternal Reassurance did. "I KNOW SOME OF YOU OUT THERE WITH SOMETHING TO SAY AREN'T GALLIARDS, AND HEY, PRECIOUS FEW OF YOU ARE SKALDS, BUT WE CAN'T ALL BE PERFECT."
She pauses beside, timed just right, a well-known Athro Galliard of Stag. Suddenly the Cliath stops, hands up in a don't shoot gesture, looking around at the gathered with a deeply ack expression on her face. Whoops...sort of. He snaps his teeth semi-jokingly at her, and she hurries on past. More than a few garou present are laughing.
"DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT, THOUGH. ANYONE CAN SPEAK NOW. YOU GOT A SONG? YOU GOT A STORY? WANNA MAKE US LAUGH? WANNA MAKE US CRY? CUZ IF YOU CAN MAKE ME CRY TONIGHT -- TONIGHT, OF ALL GLORIOUS NIGHTS!" Her arms are thrown out to either side, her face turned upward, the full moon shining down on all of them, an expression of genuine joy on her face despite it all,
including her own rage.
Eulogy snaps her head back down, arms still out. "IF YOU CAN MAKE ME CRY TONIGHT, I WILL BUY YOUR DRINKS AFTER THE REVEL TIL WE'RE BOTH SOBBING LIKE CUBS WHO MISS THEIR DAMS."
Pause for the laugh. Pause, pause...grin.
"SO! WHO'S UP? BETTER STEP UP, FOLKS, OR I'M GONNA START PICKING VOLUNTEERS."
--
[So, Eulogy in Blood is sort of loud. But as she says: even non-Galliards can use this time to share stories and songs, good and bad, happy and sad, what-have-you. It's a good time for recognition and public IC kudos, but it's advisable to give it some flair and energy unless you want your character saddled with an awful all-caps nickname for the next month. That's just how this Skald rolls.]
"ALL RIGHT," shouts Eulogy in Blood, the Cliath Skald who has, in fact, done this before. She's a favorite of both septs when it comes to running this part of the moot. "ALL OF YOU OUT THERE WHO THINK YOU DESERVE TO BE HEARD, YOU BETTER BRING IT. YOU WANNA TELL SOME STUPID STORY ABOUT YOUR BEST FRIEND KILLING SOME BANE,"
here she lifts her hands to either side, rolling her eyes and waving her hands as though to say oooh, so impressive,
"WELL, YOU BETTER UNDERSTAND THAT AIN'T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THAT. AND IF YOU DON'T BRING IT, UNDERSTAND THAT I WILL MAKE FUN OF YOU FOR THE NEXT MONTH. YOU WILL PROBABLY EVEN GET A NICKNAME. I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE ATHRO BIG-BRITCHES WHATSHISFACE, I WILL MAKE YOU WISH YOU NEVER OPENED YOUR FAT MOUTH. HELL -- I'LL EVEN INTERRUPT YOU IF YOU MAKE THE ELDERS START YAWNING."
She grins, almost manic. It's her job to take everyone from the serious, orderly affair of the Cracking and gear them up for the revel. Everyone is restless. They want to move. They want to yell, and there she is, yelling.
"ALSO, FUNNY STORIES ABOUT SOME IDIOT BEING AN IDIOT ARE ACCEPTABLE. THEN WE CAN ALL LEARN FROM THEIR MISTAKES AND BE ENTERTAINED WHILE WE DO IT." She's walking all over, long strides, rather than standing near the middle as Raspberry Sky or Eternal Reassurance did. "I KNOW SOME OF YOU OUT THERE WITH SOMETHING TO SAY AREN'T GALLIARDS, AND HEY, PRECIOUS FEW OF YOU ARE SKALDS, BUT WE CAN'T ALL BE PERFECT."
She pauses beside, timed just right, a well-known Athro Galliard of Stag. Suddenly the Cliath stops, hands up in a don't shoot gesture, looking around at the gathered with a deeply ack expression on her face. Whoops...sort of. He snaps his teeth semi-jokingly at her, and she hurries on past. More than a few garou present are laughing.
"DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT, THOUGH. ANYONE CAN SPEAK NOW. YOU GOT A SONG? YOU GOT A STORY? WANNA MAKE US LAUGH? WANNA MAKE US CRY? CUZ IF YOU CAN MAKE ME CRY TONIGHT -- TONIGHT, OF ALL GLORIOUS NIGHTS!" Her arms are thrown out to either side, her face turned upward, the full moon shining down on all of them, an expression of genuine joy on her face despite it all,
including her own rage.
Eulogy snaps her head back down, arms still out. "IF YOU CAN MAKE ME CRY TONIGHT, I WILL BUY YOUR DRINKS AFTER THE REVEL TIL WE'RE BOTH SOBBING LIKE CUBS WHO MISS THEIR DAMS."
Pause for the laugh. Pause, pause...grin.
"SO! WHO'S UP? BETTER STEP UP, FOLKS, OR I'M GONNA START PICKING VOLUNTEERS."
--
[So, Eulogy in Blood is sort of loud. But as she says: even non-Galliards can use this time to share stories and songs, good and bad, happy and sad, what-have-you. It's a good time for recognition and public IC kudos, but it's advisable to give it some flair and energy unless you want your character saddled with an awful all-caps nickname for the next month. That's just how this Skald rolls.]
my whole life is thunder.