2018.10.15: Meet Mr. Owl

Meet Mr. Owl
The Devil's Own Pack meets George
IC Date	October 15th, 2018
Players	George, Isla, Jes, The_Devil's_Own
Location	Lucky Strike Falls
Spheres	Gaian Garou Shifter

Jes is carrying boxes from the little caravan parked out front, setting them inside the door of the cabin, and going back. It's dull, repetitive work, but it has to be done; you either live in a place or you don't. Clothes, books, personal belongings, food... it's all going into the cabin now, where it will probably live in boxes for three years until he gets around to finding different boxes.

Isla is outside, bow in hand, quiver around her waist. She has setup various targets and she is practicing. One, two, three, four, five. Yes, she is a dead on archer, splitting arrow after arrow. "Aye. Good. I'm going to need to get some supplies, Sprinkles. Gonna need to make me some more arrows soon. Perhaps I can get the goop mistress to teach me how to make some special ones." She pulls another arrow out and begins again.

Off in the evening there's a strange bird call, even if you've lived in the area for a while this one is new and unusual.

"Good call, Peach. We could use some trick arrows," Jes calls as he drops off another box, leaning against the wall of the cabin and pulling out his pack of Nat Shermans. He shakes one loose, putting it to his mouth, and flicks his Zippo to light it, reaching into a nearby cooler and pulling out a Full Throttle. He pops it open, taking a sip between drags, and looks off toward the weird bird call. "Was that a... the fuck kind of bird was that?"

Isla hears it but shrugs. "Nothing from around here."

Jes shrugs, taking another long drag on his cigarette and running a hand through his hair. "Except it's here, so... by definition...." He shrugs again, looking around idly to see if he can spot a bird. You know, in all the trees. He gives up quickly.

The sound happens again but closer this time. Eventually a big owl is visible between the trees. It has a wingspan of about three feet and its coloration seems more suited to a sandy wasteland than a forest. It perches in the tree line and makes the sound a third time.

Isla asks, "Is it calling us or something?"

Well, he sees it this time. Jes stands still and watches the owl, puffing on his cigarette, then finishing his energy drink and tossing the can in a bin already full of them. He reaches behind himself, scratching his back, and announces, "It is a big owl. Do you know any owls?" Still, he paces on in that direction, not hurrying but also not ignoring it.

EagleOwl tilts its head and watches Jes approach from where it sits in the tree, blinking once or twice but not making the sound again now that it's been noticed.

"I am not packing any Tootsie Roll Pops," Jes declares once he's near enough to the tree, smiling and blowing smoke out his nostrils. "But I do give a hoot and I don't pollute, so I think we're fifty-fifty, buddy. You look like you flew an awfully long way. I mean, it's a nice lake, but the mice out here aren't any tastier than they are back home."

EagleOwl squeezes its eyes shut and juts its head forward with its beak open as it makes a squeaking sound, a couple of times. Laughing?

"Well isn't that cute?" Jes mutters, sighing heavily and shaking his head. He takes another long drag off his cigarette, then kicks up a heel to stub it out, slipping the filter back into his pocket rather than throwing it on the ground. "Well, you're not from around here, you're getting my attention, you're acting weird... what, are you looking for an invitation to come down or something? You're invited, whoever you are." He pulls his pack of Nat Shermans out again, shaking another one loose, and holds it up toward the owl. "Smoke?"

The owl hops off the branch and goes into a tumble, turning into George's human shape before he hits the ground. Reaching out to take the offered smoke "Don't mind if I do. You know I've been using that form for a while now and you're the first one to make the tootsie pop connection? Bonus points for that."

Nope, wasn't expecting that. Jes takes three steps back before catching himself and taking a deep breath, settling down. He takes a smoke for himself, then pulls out his Zippo, lighting it and extending it toward George. "Yeah, I was first in my home school class. Welcome to Lucky Strike Falls, where all your dreams will come during sleep. I think... I think you're the first owl I've ever met. Yeah, pretty sure that's the case."

George smirks and lights the smoke "Only a part time owl, it's an indulgence because of my tribe's totem. I'm George Andrews, rited 'Mocks-the-Dark', Homid born Elder Ragabash of the Silent Striders. Member of the Council of Elders for the Sept of Enduring Spirit. Pleased to meet you."

"Oh shit," Jes replies, eyes going wide as he nearly drops his cigarette. He recovers fairly quickly; he can be shocked, but he's also obviously used to rolling with social upheaval. He lights his smoke, taking a deep drag, before replying, "Sullivan Queenan, rited 'Death's Jester', Homid Cliath Ragabash of the Fianna and Beta of The Devil's Own under Weasel. Pleasure to meet you, Mocks-the-Dark-rhya; I didn't realize we were getting an envoy from the PTA." He ducks his head, offering a smile and his right hand. "Um... welcome to my turf, I guess?"

George grins and nods as he has a bit of a look around, taking a smoke "I'm kind of an Elder without a specific job. I turn up all over the place and tonight that happened to be here. Not on business or anything, I just heard there was a territory getting set up and decided to come have a look."

"You heard correctly," Jes replies with a nod and a grin, spreading his hands wide. "All two of us, playing house out in the middle of nowhere. Our Rite of Passage wasn't all that far from here; Isla didn't want to go back home to Scotland, and family tradition says once you hit Cliath you have to head out solo until at least Fostern, so we figured, why drive all over hell to look for somewhere when we're not dead set on anywhere in particular?" He laughs, waving George after him as he heads back toward the cabin. "Her family owns this place, so we took it over. Nothing against a Sept or anything, man; we just want to do our own thing. Out here is our rules. Our choices. We're here if we're needed or wanted, but we're not waking up at Reveille to line up with the grunts, dig?"

Isla hears the commotion, but has totally been in the /zone/ practicing her archery skills. Out of arrows in her quiver, she lowers the bow and turns toward the guys, not even blinking an eye that there is some other guy here. "Well, well, well. Ain't this an interesting turn of events." She smirks to Jes, as she then rests her elbow on his shoulder, and kicks up her right foot to rest on its toe on the opposite side of her left foot as she leans on her Beta. "They're coming to us, now, eh?" A laugh and then she gets back to business. "I'm Isla Ennes, rited Fiery Bellona. Born on these two legs, Cliath Ahroun Fianna, daughter of Claws-of-Fire. Alpha of The Devil's Own, patrons of Weasel." She nods to what Jes said, and says, "Ye are welcome here, so long as you ain't bring no taint or extra rules fer us."

George nods and grins "I totally dig. My second pack had an Island for our territory just off the coast. They've all moved on in one fashion or another but I'm still out there. So I can totally appreciate the idea of being off and away. I may drop in to visit now and again but not to be bossy or anything. And if in my wandering around I find anything you all need to be aware of near your territory now I don't have to go all the way back to Prospect if I need to put a fire team together."

"Oh, shit, you have an island?" Jes replies to George with a laugh, shaking his head. "What a trip. But yeah, hey, we're always open for business, Mocks-the-Dark-rhya. Was another one of the boss batch out here not long ago, cool chick, umm... Iris Mercy's Messenger, did our Rite so we could court Weasel. Also very cool. So far we're two for two on you guys." He considers, taking another puff on his cigarette, then says, "Oh, wait, three for three! I forgot Super Grandpa Junior! How is Lleutrim doing, anyway? He run out of Ben Gay and hard candies yet?"

Isla grins, "Yeah, Old Man! Damn he was full of pride. But he held his own." She does seem to appreciate the news from George, "An Island? You got a any legendary sea serpents out there. We got ole' Nessie we would go chasing sometimes. Met her once, when me father's pack had to go help her with something. She repaid him with letting me have a ride. Father would do anything for his wee lass." She looks to Jes, "Maybe we should check out his Island sometime. Field Trip!"

George nods "Yeah, go to the south side marina in Prospect, look for 'The Misfit's Mistress' and ask for Joezeppi. He's gnawer kin and he and his endless horde of cousins run the ferry out to the Island, it takes about an hour. If you want to come by sometime to see it you'd be welcome. Plenty of room for spending the night so you don't have to day trip it." Grinning at Isla George adds "The local sea dragon is named Cypha, you might see her or you might not. There's also a Gorgon that lives in a Wyld pocket under a waterfall, her name's Bronwyn. If you see a raccoon on the island it might be her." The commentary about Lleutrim and Iris gets a snicker and George comments "Iris is pretty cool, as her about the gift basket she got me sometime. Lleutrim, still seems like he's still having occasional trouble adjusting even though he's made it through his rite but Lost cubs tend to sometimes. Nothing's gone wrong enough that I've had to notice, so there's that."

"Field trip it is," Jes replies when George makes his invitation, obviously bowing to Isla's enthusiasm and giving her a smirk. "I'll bring s'mores goodies and a tent. Sounds like a fun weekend." But then George mentions Cypha, and he tilts his head, looking back and forth between the other two. "You two are fucking with me, right?" he asks, pointing his cigarette at Isla, then George, then Isla. "Because /that's/ some shit. Dragons? Fuck me." He rolls his eyes, taking another long drag, and adds, "Yeah, he was a stuck-up old prick, but not a bad guy. You know, for an old-ass highschooler. Whatever, Stag says he's good, he's good. I hope he makes it."

Isla laughs! "Aye that is awesome. I want to meet this, Cypha. I wonder if she knows Nessie?" She whispers into Jes is ear and the throws her head back to laugh again. "Yeah, pass along a message to the old man that we're here, and we'll be around." At that point she has to ask, "A Raccoon Gorgon. I guess an Island is a good place to keep her from screwing with the rest of the area. At least sometimes."

George snickers at Isla "She gets out and about, turning up wherever she likes. Sometimes she looks like a person where you least expect her." Finishes his cigarette and adds "I'll see about if Cypha wants to make some new friends. Do either of you surf?"

Jes rolls his eyes at Isla again, going back to his cigarette and taking a deep drag. "Dragons and Gorgons. I'll bring my twenty-sided die and Dungeon Master's Guide. Man. I should call Lleutrim at some point. I got his number, after all; I just don't really know what to say. 'Hi, we're nearby, we're doing better than you, don't forget to take your back pill.'" At George's question, Jes smirks and says, "I can, but I'm fucking terrible at it. Still, that's no reason /not to/, you know? Tough to get better at something by avoiding doing it."

Isla looks at George with the question about surfing, and then catches Jes' eye roll. Oh, there will be payback for that later. "Fucking Hell, Sprinkles. Considering everything that happened on our Rite of Passage? Bah!" She bumps him hard with her hip, and pushes him to the side with her arm that had been on his shoulder resting. To George she replies, "Nae, but I ride horses, and free climb mountains. I'm sure I can make a go of it."

George points at Jes "There's a gnawer kin that runs a D&D game sometimes out of the Mall they have for their territory. Could put you in touch if you want, not sure if its kinfolk only but it can't hurt to ask." Then he nods at the two Cliaths "Well I've got an assortment of loaner boards on my beach, it's worth learning to do as part of adapting to California."

"And all that in a dress," Jes jokes as he's bumped and pushed, giving Isla a playful wink and continuing to drag on his cigarette. "She always outdoes me, dude. It's fucking embarrassing. Half the time I think I should just give her my dick and be done with it." He rolls his eyes again, giving George a big grin. "But yeah, for sure, we'll come play. It sounds gorgeous. And, obviously, we've got room here for visitors, whenever you're around. It's a big place, and just us in it. We're still kinda figuring out what to do with. I have ideas, but they're just ideas for now. Have to get settled before you can establish yourself. And... are you fucking serious? Shit, I did NOT know that. I have, like... so many books."

Isla folds over laughing. She points to George and then to Jes. "Oh.. Oh... No fucking way... hahahahaha!" She wipes her eyes from the tears from laughing so hard. "Is that what all those boxes were? Yer a Nerdy Gamer? Hahahaha! What do you play? A tenth level vice president?"

George grins and nods "Well I'll leave you to it for the moment since it's a ways back to my territory and I don't feel like too much of a rush. I'm sure I'll be seeing you."

"Hey, I moved around a lot, it was a way to make friends," Jes protests to Isla, though he's obviously a good sport about it. "Also a way to kill time on long drives. We all used to play. I was a... dwarven cleric." He sighs, shaking his head, and says, "Yes, I was a fucking nerd, okay? I also sold weed and flip-knives to burnouts and hustled pool and cards, so, like, don't pigeonhole me TOO hard, Peach. I had layers; I just like games." He pats George on the arm and says, "Well, seriously man, it was really nice to meet you. Mocks-the-Dark-rhya. Sorry. Anyway, really nice to meet you, for sure. Like... be welcome, you know? Don't be a stranger, you or any of 'em. We're not out here with picket signs saying 'Damn the Man' or anything, so... anyone can hang. It's just /our place/ and all."

Isla nods with a smirk, "Layers, like an Onion. Guess I'll call you Shrek now." She laughs a bit and accidentally snorts, as her curly flaming red locks fall on either side of her face. She shakes them back behind her and with a genuine smile, she tells George, "Aye, come by whenever yer in the area, Mocks-the-Dark'rhya. We'll make a field trip to yer Island sometime soon enough. Have a safe trip back."

And the Elder nods before he vanishes from plain sight. Not even footprints left behind.

"Yeah, I love how the fucking fairytale princess who shoots an actual fucking bow and arrow is on /me/ about my creative fantasy life," Jes replies to Isla mockingly, sticking his tongue out at her and taking another hefty drag on his cigarette. "You're a fucking living Ren Faire, Rose Red." He waves George off, commenting aside to Isla, "That was fucking rad."