Wahya Must Die: Part IV

[Bai Chou]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 6, 10 (Success x 3 at target 4)
to Wahya

[Bai Chou]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 4, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 1)
to Wahya

[Wahya] Bai Chou
Fri 9:52 pm
Roll valid
to Wahya
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 6, 10 (Success x 3 at target 4)

Boy is healed 3 agg
to Boy

[Muerte Fria] Soledad came into the Caern across the physical plain, walking along the derelict streets that emptied itself into a derelict boatyard. She was dressed in a thin gray men's T-shirt, jeans, and boots. No jacket, though she had an olive colored one with blood clutched in her right hand, speckled and splashed with blood still on the fresh side. Her left hand was on Gina's shoulder, keeping the Kinfolk walking at her side, arm looped behind her shoulders and neck to reach. The Kinfolk was tucked near her side, guided along. Gina looked worse for wear, and that was an understatement. She was wearing a worn and soft black leather coat that appeared far too large for her, but did a fine job of keeping her warm.

Coming upon the large chainlink wire gate that blocked the street, marked its end and the begin of the boatyard, one of the members of the Warder's pack stepped forward from where he sat at the gate. Soledad spoke with him softly. 'Keep her safe, I will be back for her.' And that was all. The grave tone of the Ahroun's voice and the touch of earnest request was enough for the other Garou, who nodded and gestured for Gina to sit. He would watch her for a few seconds, then sit on the ground beside the crate that he'd gestured for her to sit on, offer her a swig from a flask he'd pulled from his heavy coat.

Soledad continued on in, pulling the gate open enough for her to slip through. Goosebumps prickled her flesh, her shoulders were hunched against the cold, but she did not complain or rub at her arms for warmth. Rather, she walked into the Caern proper, amber eyes peeled for familiar and unfamiliar faces alike-- Boy and Wahya, the people she was supposed to seek.

[Wahya] Everything seems to have come full circle. Bai Chou and Brother of the Lost have spent the better part of last night and the afternoon attempting to piece everything together. They have expired themselves beyond their resources to cleanse the heavy wyrm-taint that road Wahya Many Tongues for miles upon miles through umbra landscapes. The endeavor of a handful of Garou that sought to break the Master’s realm had freed the wolf-born Ukena…

But for his long imprisonment, he has paid a very dear price. Two months ago, Wahya left – alone – on a mission to seek out information on an enemy. He was able to report back via spirit, which enabled the Theurge elder to continue her in efforts to bring an end the Master. For this, he had paid the Master’s price and became trapped, two months is a long time to be caught in Malfeas. It is enough to drive any Garou bad.

The Uktena of Chicago have seen what happens when one of their own fall from grace. Stories tote of Many Tongues being an honorable Garou. There is no honor when one eats the flesh of a human. Now, awake and sullen, the wolf has regained his senses. Boy and Bai Chou sought the aid of the Rite’s Mistress for healing.

And now, the Uktena are gathering to deal with their problem. Wahya has not said a word or looked at anyone. His gold eyes are vacant, he seems withdrawn and suffering from some loss. Perhaps he knows what he has done, or not. It is difficult to tell.

[Gina McClaren] *Gina'd shambled in at Soledad's side, overlarge coat making her seem smaller than she already was. Sole steering the kinfolk towards the warder, the pikey simply lingers. He gets no earnest smile of greeting, and his offered alcohal is accepted without a word. Kept, in fact, unless he takes it from her hand. She settles on the crate beside him, silent but for the too cheery clink of bangles. Something is distinctly off about the boistrous strider. She sits slouched and silent, mission accomplished, mantra of instructions breaking down. Dark eyes unfoccussed as events replay themselves over and over again in her mind. The flask shaking in her hand as its tipped to her lips again.*

[Boy] Somewhere there was a stolen car bloodied and abandoned. They'd left it far enough to remain lost until they could move it again. For now, there were other things to do.

The first order of business, keep Wahya Many Tongues from bleeding to death. The wolf born was weak, starved, not as sickly as he had been, but just as vulnerable. The rite master could heal him, certainly. She could heal Boy as well, torn open in the process of detaining his tribe mate.

She could have asked questions. She could have pointed at them suspiciously, bringing unwelcome curiosity to them. She hadn't. And while the warders appeared occasionally, going about their business, no one approached them. No one questioned them.

Wahya Many Tongues was known to be an honorable garou. So was Brother of the Lost. To an extent, so was God Slayer, at least honorable enough to be left alone.

Boy was quiet. He sat with Wahya, contemplating. Brooding. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

[Bai Chou] Bai sat crouched...he wanted to smoke....he really would rather be smoking under an overhang in Chinatown or maybe sitting in the Umbra and talking with the spirits who recognized him almost as one of their own...they remembered him when others had forgotten. They recalled his deeds there when others would overlook them...and they would always remember that he had always kept his word to them. But he was here because someone else needed him...others needed him this night.

It was a rare thing that, and it felt sorta good to be needed, though it was damn aggravating when he couldn't smoke because they were on sacred ground. His blue eyes just stared at Wahya...stared before he spoke.

"...I didn't care your ass here to watch you go catatonic nor waste my time so I can sit and wait for you to continue the mime routine. You're home...you're back...you're no longer in hell...though you have done something to bring you into another one. But, if you have any hope for yourself...if you're not going to waste that effort that's been done for you...the sacrifices done for you...then you need to come back to the living."

[Bai Chou] (Care = carry)

[Muerte Fria] There.

Three of them, other children of Uktena, lumped together on a fairly empty space of land, away from hangers where more permanent figures to the Caern proper would listen in easily. Soledad redirected her long-legged stride to carry herself across the crumbling but sturdy pavement to her tribemates.

She assessed the situation visually, looked at Bai and listened as he spoke, looked at Wahya and studied his visage, his face, his body, then finally settled her gaze upon Boy. A shiver crawled across her skin and was ignored, and she spoke in the same low, bland voice that she was well known for.

"Where do we stand?"

[Wahya] Wahya’s body begins to change. It flows slowly and painfully from one form into another until he sits in his monkey-skin, his clothes hanging off his skinny frame. The scar that runs down his right cheek twitching when the flesh pulls, muscles working the tension out of his jaw; long black dreads spill like jungle vines across his shoulders.

He looks like a man that has gone through hell and back. When he rises to stand, he sways on his bare feet, planting his legs apart as to regain his balance. His brown eyes turning on his tribe mates, “There is no living,” his voice bites out in the rough, guttural tone that sounds harsh on the ears, deep and ugly, “One does not come back from what Wahya has done.”

“Brother of the Lost shows great patience and mercy to Wahya, but did he do it for naught? Cannot see a path to redemption from where this road has gone, the council will flay Wahya alive.”

[Gina McClaren] *Nowhere to go, and no will to go there, Gina remains with the warder. His flask in hand, caught in an endless loop of guilt and horror.*

[Boy] Boy looked up at Soledad as she approached. "Where do we stand?" She asks. At first, he doesn't answer.

Bai speaks and Boy seethes. His eyes narrow at the Chinese Uktena and his lips part to speak, but before he does Wahya is moving, shifting into his man form, and speaking. Boy frowns at his words. He looks to Bai with passive, yet assertive eyes. 'I told you so' the eyes say.

Its now that he looks back up to Soledad. He struggles to his feet, dusting off his pants but making no motion to dust off the seat of his pants.

"Wahya Many Tongues is alive. And whole." His eyes drift away from her form, from any of them really, choosing a spot on the ground. "And free of wyrm taint. My pack should be cleaning up Gina's house as we speak. They'll...bring the remains, I think."

[Bai Chou] "...they might, they might not. We'll see. If you give up before you try though...there's no point."

Bai rose as well, looking at Wahya as he talks.

"...redemption comes when one seeks to make things right. Death only awaits those that wish to do nothing right."

[Muerte Fria] The Ahroun's tongue found her incisor and pressed at it thoughtfully. She nodded when Boy spoke, watched his eyes dance for a second before falling, then shivered again and switched her gaze over to Bai, listening to his words. That sounded appropriate for a Theurge to speak of, and she dipped her nod once in what could have been approval, acceptance, or agreement.

Then she looked down to Wahya. There's a pause, then she crouches down, one hand touching briefly, thoughtlessly to the side of her protruding belly before falling away when her elbow settled just above her bent knee, leaving her fingers to dangle in the chill of the autumn air. She dipped her head so that her face was level with the Ragabash's, her eyes finding and locking on to his. When she spoke, her tone was level, words simple and to the point.

"Do you experience Remorse?"
"Do you experience Memory?"
"Most importantly, do you experience Yourself?"

[Muerte Fria] (( Theurge** Kenna shalt not second guess herself. ))

[Boy] Boy's chest rose as Bai spoke, and fell again when Muerte Fria nodded. It may not have seemed like much, but that held breath for those many seconds meant something.

He couldn't help the sense of irony that was creeping over him now. If actually knew anything about this, he thought, it would be Soledad. He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting silently for an answer.

[Wahya] “What will you do when this wolf no longer wishes to feel the sun? Wahya is not whole, he is broken.” His right hand curls into a fist, bringing it up to slap it into the center of his chest as he fixes his gaze on Bai Chou.

“Has Godslayer ever devoured his own dreams?” he shakes his head, “She was mine. All Wahya do, against the Master, accepting the price was to protect Maija-kin. She was Wahya’s human. And now… he does this.”

His voice fills with disgust, all of it centered upon him; he knows exactly what he has done. The remorse that has started to gnaw at his insides will grow in time.

Do you experience Remorse?
Do you experience Memory?
Most importantly, do you experience Yourself?

Muerta Fria presses Wahya with questions, his head snaps to the side, the motion coming too quickly. He moves a little, shifting his stance as he folds his arms across his chest. “Yes.” He nods his head, shaking those dreads about his face. “Her face will be Wahya’s moon, and he will howl to her every night.”

“Her memory will be Wahya’s ghost. Wahya is here.”

[Gina McClaren] ((Unless someone grabs Gina, assume she's doing her thing where she was left. *nods* I'm lurkin!))
to .fly., Bai Chou, Boy, Muerte Fria, Wahya

[Bai Chou] "...I have swallowed my dreams...I sliced away three parts of my happiness...a fourth was taken from me. If Gaia wanted you dead, you'd be dead, Wahya. You're salvageable in Her eyes...I think so in mine as well."

He rolled his neck some, shifting his hands into the pockets of his pea coat...feeling the warmth of the pack there giving him sweet promises for later...it was going to be a bitch when he finally tried to stop chain smoking..hand rolled tobacco was helping...but not much.

"...I'm not that religious...oddly enough. But...if I did think there were happy places to go after all this...do you think you'll ever see her again if you die now? In the words of my people....your karma is fucked. Only way to fix that karma is do live and do rightful things to beget rightful destination."

[Muerte Fria] Soledad's eyes stayed on Wahya's while he talked, as though she had the power of Philodoxes to see truth amongst lies or illusions. For a few seconds she was quiet, then Bai started talking. Lids slid closed over those eyes, similarly colored to the ones she'd just been staring into, and she turned her head toward Bai just a little, giving him her cheekbone but not focusing her gaze on him or giving him full shot of her face. "Quiet," she said simply. "You speak too much."

She looked back to Wahya, then huffed and pushed herself up to her feet, the huff itself partway a groan of effort. She was still adjusting to the strain of new weight on joints that were so used to carrying perhaps 120lbs at best, all evenly dispersed through her long lanky body instead of gathering in one spot. She could only imagine how harshly her balance would be thrown off in another few months. She looked to Boy next, folding her arms over a chest that displayed the cold as much as the flesh of her bare arms did.

"Boy, you are the Half-Moon of our tribe. Ultimately, this falls onto you. I believe, given time, he will recover and function fully as a brother again. But I am no judge to pass punishment or law."

[Boy] Boy huffed as Muerte Fria gave her order of 'Quiet'. It wasn't amused or annoyed. There wasn't a smile on his face. In fact, as he stood there, arms crossed and staring at the ground not too far in front of them, that huff was the only outward indication that he was even paying attention.

And then, Soledad addresses him directly.

"Wahya many tongues has to pay for his crimes. A kinfolk is dead. We cannot hide this from the Sept."

His eyes move up to Wahya now.

"He has tasted man flesh. He has broken one of the oldest laws of the Litany. We...might...be able to say nothing. His guilt may be enough of a punishment..."

And for a while he seems to be honestly considering this course of action.

"But the litany must be upheld. Even among us. My only fear? What Wahya did was what any of us are expected to do. He fought the Wyrm where it bred. He searched for knowledge and used it in the defense of Gaia. His actions were honorable. But the others of the sept may not see that. Like he said...they'll flay him alive. They'll strip him of his honor and wisdom. And even if they do not call the hunt, the punishment...does not reflect his honorable actions."

His arms uncross. He looks among the gathered Uktena, lingering on Bai, and then settling on Soledad.

"If I had it my way, he'd have died by an Uktena hand. Punishment, without the loss of honor. But...we're here now. His punishment has to come. All I can do is argue in his defense and hope that there's some mercy shown."

[Wahya] The Uktena was never capable of hiding his emotions, the human concept of idea and thought, of feeling and love, hate and anger, jealousy and rage… were all foreign to him. So alien that he feels them all at once, each word driven home by the voice of a speaker. Each turn of the auspices, he listens. Wahya’s heart grows heavy in his chest. His breathing his slow, almost labored as nostrils flare out to expel air from his lungs.

His head dips down, eyes closed as Boy passes his judgment. There is warmth and a wetness that would have sprung to the lupus’ cheek, but it doesn’t roll. When his eyes open again, they are shining and misty. He might have asked why his face was leaking…

And Annemarie was not there to tell him his eyes were raining.

He swallows the lump forming in the back of his throat, bumping up his chin as he meets Boy’s gaze. “Punishment must fit the crime.” He says quietly, “Wahya is not afraid of death, Brother of the Lost, do what must be done. Wahya will accept his do."

[Muerte Fria] Soledad snarled, the sound abrupt and rending the air almost as it would were she wearing a skin other than her fleshy two-legged one. She shook her head, and her thick mane of straight black hair flew out behind her and about her shoulders. It had been trimmed recently, bangs had been cut in so that hair didn't hang into her eyes so easily, a sign that she had someone to care for her at least on occasion. That someone was sitting outside the Caern gate with a silent Warder to keep her company by grace of physical body and restrained curiosity alone. She was dissociated because of what has transpired, perhaps ruined, at least for several months before she could heal enough to continue on.

Her nostrils flared, her lips peeled back so that her teeth were bared to the cold air of the Caern, and the Warder beside Gina turned to glance over his shoulder at the sound, but let it be. There were no roars and screams ripping the air, it was nothing to be too concerned about. Yet.

"Then we defend him," she insisted, eyes flashing with life, even if it was heated and Rage-fueled, for the first time in weeks. "If they are so blind to take him down because he was Wyrm-riddled and tortured for the sake of Gaia, yet has the strength to return to us with grief in his heart...? Then we demand the death of Warcry the Glass Walker Galliard. She, in a moment of weakness and possession rather than months of influence cut down an Ahroun, a fine warrior for Gaia.

We lost a warrior to her hands, Many-Tongues took a mangy Kin of no breeding, wealth, or influence."

Icy Rage billowed off her back and shoulders, which were hunched along with her back, making her posture more animal than it ought to be while standing on two legs.

"We fight for him." A hand slapped to her chest. "I fight for him."

[Bai Chou] "...I will stand and see what decision is made...I will hope that you live Wahya, though I have no one to pray to for that miracle."

He inclined his head to Soledad, wishing he had that zeal, that fire at times. Another reason why he had asked her...why he had not heeded Boy's warning to him before he went to speak with her.

[Boy] "You know this for sure, Muerta Fria?" He asks, just as hushed as they'd all been. He paused, considering for a while, then nodded. A single, firm nod.

"Then if so...that's what we'll do. We'll speak to Balance without Fault."

[Muerte Fria] Her eyes dipped down to Wahya, and her brow creased, the expression hard and impossible to read clearly, so clouded with Rage was it. Her nostrils flared again, just a little, and she nodded firmly to Boy before taking a few steps forward and to the side, then turning to seat herself on the ground resolutely beside the redemptive Theurge.

[Bai Chou] Bai himself remained quiet, just watching....observing now.

[Wahya] Wahya breathes in and out, looking to Bai Chou and Muerta Fria, he casts his eyes to Boy. His head dips in a slow nod, there was nothing else he had to add to the conversation. He was willing to accept his fate.

[Muerte Fria] [[ At this point we'll need to wait for Damon to be available to NPC Balance-Without-Fault for this. So we are pausing. There's a strong possibility that this will be put in the forums, so keep an eye out. We've all got each others' AIM names, though, so contact isn't difficult by any means.

For now...

PAUSE! ]]