Post by AST Chris on Aug 7, 2012 23:22:48 GMT -8
In the living area, the one place taken up by the young Garou known as Tells Tall Tales is...well, it's a mess even considering his Bone Gnawer heritage. It's not amazingly bad in regards to smell, it smells, just a "bit" like the exhaust of a motorcycle even though it's been a good couple of months since he's been one, as well as the smell of his strong body odor, but the way he has his living area laid out...haphazard would be the kindest way of saying it.
It's the result of his terrible memory. For those who interact with Trip (funny no one aside from the one guy he told knows that Tripwas is his human name) his tendency to wander in speech, his distractibility...it's all manifested in this area. It has quite a few scraps of paper written on in scrawl a chicken would find insulting. But it's how he patches his life together when the important bits, the Kin, the family, the friends, are tied together in a way he con comprehend.
Today was a bad night. He had good nights where he could remember stuff pretty well (Wilhelm was his Alpha, Takes Things had a comma, Scraps was a Fink, etc) and be just fine. Others...all the memories and faces and stimulus...es ran together in a way that could drive others insane. Hell, he probably is. It's why he's looking at a large poking branch with scraps of paper and muttering for himself.
"It starts with Mama...dunno who Pops was, but they think he was a Kin guy Got Kicks Teeth In...bruther...no, half bruther. He's in...Winnemucca? That weird ass place in de middle of nowhere...Utah? No...Nevada? No, that don't sound right eithah. On Mommas side dere is...was Auntie Sad Eyes and Uncle Glen, Gaia rest their souls. en....L'il Miss? But she's daughter too de old Alpha, de one like Scraps wit no idea 'bout Garou."
There's a sharp breath and a consulting of his beat up paper. There the stories don't run all together. Here, he can remember how his folks don't merge together and how he went from a little babbler on the back of a bike in New York to this...place near Seattle.
"'Kay...need ta focus. You Garou. You ain't an idiot, too. Just...scattered. That's the word Twisted Tale used for ya."
Damn, even for him those early days as Garou were strange. Moving out and about as a cub, meeting folks from the Sept they were a part of, The Sept of the Green. He knew he had a few Galliard teachers he was shuffled about with. "Natural Talent for Story" was the four words used a lot. He had a Gift for them. Words. The Wyrd. Well, that's how he thought of that. He knew it weren't Triat, but it felt...as it should be. He knew it sounded like some Child of Gaia Karma Jibbery Bullshit, but he did think 'bout it. The Wyrd of Gaia.
Damn it all to the Wyrm, he lost his place. Again. Dark eyes scan the papers again, trying to find the place he had been.
Twisted Tale. She was...was she a she? Hel, Trip barely knew her when she got murdered. Just long enough for his rambling stories to earn him the deed name Tells Tall Tales ("Triple T!" some other Galliard said, chuckling at the cleverness of it.) Then...BAM! Murdered. Gone. Jes like that. And not even trying to protect other Garou, the way Auntie Sad Eyes died protecting the Alpha of the Hellhounds or Uncle Glen, giving his life protecting him from Black Spiral Dancers and bringing out the Wolf in Trip. She was murdered.
From there...it goes to one of her students, the one who went to the West Coast. Explains the Plot. That was her name. He came this way not too long after Twisted Tale died, because she probably knew a lot of the Stories Twisted Tale did. So he decided to talk with the Alpha and Mama and L'il Miss and Gnaws on Tires and and and-
It happened again. Go West after Explains. Get the mind right. He hitched with the one fetish the pack could go without: Gaias Big Thumb. Hitch it as best he could. Took a while. Managed to catch up with Kevin (no...Kicks Teeth In now, according to the pack he helps out now) and stayed a week or so there. But...his wandering got a hold of him. Searching the papers, it's obvious how bad it got on his trip to the West Coast.
Maybe that's why when he got there she was already dead. Still, he had been welcomed by a Silver Fang of all people, one of the not asshole-y ones named Wilhelm. Explains she was his niece...cousin....well, there was some kind of weird relation thing there. Not a bad one, but one he couldn't understand. Making her a Fang? Fighting Wyrmfoe? It's just a bunch of huge strangeness. But here he was. With a big pack. Trips eyes go to the lowest parts of the paper. It has all the technical stuff, the tribes and auspices and whatnot, but...he's got a weird ass pack. Three Silent Striders, including one who is a lot like Auntie Sad Eyes with her conversations with nowhere. Wilhelm...and now there's another Bone Gnawer, another Galliard! And now his mind starts to go to those he's befriended outside of his pack.
Scraps, the Rat fink Ragabash who...well, he's a handful, but there's a bit of a kindred spirit there.
Echo of the Falcons Scream, a theurge-y type who is...well, interesting.
Jumps the Shark (not that Trip would out and out call him that to his face....even when he's being a silly ass), the Shadowlord Galliard with...a knack for trouble.
The connections in his mind are reestablished. It's not perfect, but it's there.
It's the result of his terrible memory. For those who interact with Trip (funny no one aside from the one guy he told knows that Trip
Today was a bad night. He had good nights where he could remember stuff pretty well (Wilhelm was his Alpha, Takes Things had a comma, Scraps was a Fink, etc) and be just fine. Others...all the memories and faces and stimulus...es ran together in a way that could drive others insane. Hell, he probably is. It's why he's looking at a large poking branch with scraps of paper and muttering for himself.
"It starts with Mama...dunno who Pops was, but they think he was a Kin guy Got Kicks Teeth In...bruther...no, half bruther. He's in...Winnemucca? That weird ass place in de middle of nowhere...Utah? No...Nevada? No, that don't sound right eithah. On Mommas side dere is...was Auntie Sad Eyes and Uncle Glen, Gaia rest their souls. en....L'il Miss? But she's daughter too de old Alpha, de one like Scraps wit no idea 'bout Garou."
There's a sharp breath and a consulting of his beat up paper. There the stories don't run all together. Here, he can remember how his folks don't merge together and how he went from a little babbler on the back of a bike in New York to this...place near Seattle.
"'Kay...need ta focus. You Garou. You ain't an idiot, too. Just...scattered. That's the word Twisted Tale used for ya."
Damn, even for him those early days as Garou were strange. Moving out and about as a cub, meeting folks from the Sept they were a part of, The Sept of the Green. He knew he had a few Galliard teachers he was shuffled about with. "Natural Talent for Story" was the four words used a lot. He had a Gift for them. Words. The Wyrd. Well, that's how he thought of that. He knew it weren't Triat, but it felt...as it should be. He knew it sounded like some Child of Gaia Karma Jibbery Bullshit, but he did think 'bout it. The Wyrd of Gaia.
Damn it all to the Wyrm, he lost his place. Again. Dark eyes scan the papers again, trying to find the place he had been.
Twisted Tale. She was...was she a she? Hel, Trip barely knew her when she got murdered. Just long enough for his rambling stories to earn him the deed name Tells Tall Tales ("Triple T!" some other Galliard said, chuckling at the cleverness of it.) Then...BAM! Murdered. Gone. Jes like that. And not even trying to protect other Garou, the way Auntie Sad Eyes died protecting the Alpha of the Hellhounds or Uncle Glen, giving his life protecting him from Black Spiral Dancers and bringing out the Wolf in Trip. She was murdered.
From there...it goes to one of her students, the one who went to the West Coast. Explains the Plot. That was her name. He came this way not too long after Twisted Tale died, because she probably knew a lot of the Stories Twisted Tale did. So he decided to talk with the Alpha and Mama and L'il Miss and Gnaws on Tires and and and-
It happened again. Go West after Explains. Get the mind right. He hitched with the one fetish the pack could go without: Gaias Big Thumb. Hitch it as best he could. Took a while. Managed to catch up with Kevin (no...Kicks Teeth In now, according to the pack he helps out now) and stayed a week or so there. But...his wandering got a hold of him. Searching the papers, it's obvious how bad it got on his trip to the West Coast.
Maybe that's why when he got there she was already dead. Still, he had been welcomed by a Silver Fang of all people, one of the not asshole-y ones named Wilhelm. Explains she was his niece...cousin....well, there was some kind of weird relation thing there. Not a bad one, but one he couldn't understand. Making her a Fang? Fighting Wyrmfoe? It's just a bunch of huge strangeness. But here he was. With a big pack. Trips eyes go to the lowest parts of the paper. It has all the technical stuff, the tribes and auspices and whatnot, but...he's got a weird ass pack. Three Silent Striders, including one who is a lot like Auntie Sad Eyes with her conversations with nowhere. Wilhelm...and now there's another Bone Gnawer, another Galliard! And now his mind starts to go to those he's befriended outside of his pack.
Scraps, the Rat fink Ragabash who...well, he's a handful, but there's a bit of a kindred spirit there.
Echo of the Falcons Scream, a theurge-y type who is...well, interesting.
Jumps the Shark (not that Trip would out and out call him that to his face....even when he's being a silly ass), the Shadowlord Galliard with...a knack for trouble.
The connections in his mind are reestablished. It's not perfect, but it's there.