Time/Date :It is currently 06:57 Pacific Time on Thu Dec 20 2007.
Place : Greek House: Common Area(#2409RAJh$)
Weather :Currently in Saint Claire, it is partially cloudy. The temperature is 38 degrees Fahrenheit (3 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southwest at 7 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.82 and rising, and the relative humidity is 85 percent. The dewpoint is 34 degrees Fahrenheit (1 degrees Celsius.)
Moon Phase : Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous Moon phase (73% full).
Greek House: Common Area(#2409RAJh$)
This is the central hub of the house. From here, you can still see the entrance foyer, as well as the stairway that heads to the second story. Towards the back of the common area is a set of glass doors that lead out to a courtyard. To the east, an arched doorway leads to what apparently serves as a library, office, and workroom, and to the west, an arched doorway leads to what appears to be a kitchen and dining area..
There are several chairs here, simple, elegant, yet functional in their design and intent. The room has a comfortable feel to it, but is a bit ascetic in design. The walls are off-white, the molding dark cherry wood and decorated with acanthus-leaf ornamentation at the corners. A pair of antique spears are hung crossed against each other on one wall, and a wall-relief depicting a scene of Grecian warriors hangs on the other. Above the mantle of the fireplace is a small statue of Artemis, on either side of that, dark metal candlesticks with ivory pillar candles. The entire room is a study in the contrast of light and dark.
A young man who may just be approaching his late teens, Zeke is not overly tall- topping off at about 5'10", and not overly muscled. He does look fit though, perhaps the kind of average physique that suggests an active lifestyle opposed to hours spent on the weight bench. His carriage is modest and without any aloofness about him, though he does not give the impression of being uncomfortable in his skin either.
His face is a oval rather than narrow, broad cheeked and with a wide, easy grin. A fair skinned complexion grants an even starker contrast for his jade-green eyes. The three-day stubble he wears seems to be planned rather than a show of laziness, or perhaps he just doesn't grow facial hair very well; regardless, the hair outlines over his lip and on the lowest part of his chin.
His clothes are simple and effective, and no matter what time of year it is, Zeke is found wearing long sleeve shirts and a wide variety of beanie hats- always worn down past the ears. His jeans appear well worn and loved, and his shoes are of the common Mall Shoestore variety. He's also a fond supporter of hooded sweatshirts and jackets- again, hood always up.
Sometime over the last couple of years, a teen girl with a poor attitude and a hair-trigger temper has grown up, and matured into a young woman. With a poor attitude and a hair-trigger temper. KL is a little over five-foot tall - no late growth spurt for her - and slimly built. She moves quickly, and is rarely still for any length of time. Her natural balance and co-ordination are clearly evident in her movement, but any hint of grace is smothered with her air of irritation, hostility and restrained aggression. She manages to turn even simple activities - like ordering fries - into not particularly subtle attempts to provoke fights.
Her mousy-brown hair hangs loose around her shoulders, the front falling to frame her face. Her hair looks like it has been cut recently, and by someone with at least a little skill. She's really quite attractive, perhaps not a pin-up, but far from ugly, with a cute upturned nose and wide expressive hazelnut eyes. However, any level of appeal her physical appearance might have is swamped by the anger in her gaze and the sullen set of her mouth. She stares at people - particularly people she doesn't know - with a cold fury, as if trying to decide exactly which way to kill them.
KL has pale skin decorated in two places - on her left upper arm is a largish tattoo of something that looks a little like a bear, with its jaws spread wide and slaver falling in droplets. It has the words "No Mercy" written with gusto beneath it. On her right shoulder-blade, if visible, is a second tattoo, two-inch-square, of a winged horse. There isn't much in the way of excess flesh on her, her cheekbones are clearly visible and her bare arms have a tight musculature that speaks of regular and plentiful exercise.
She is wearing a white T-Shirt and a pair of white cycling shorts, white sports socks and a pair of white trainers. All of the clothes look new, or at least very well cared for. There's a large bandage wrapped around her right calf.
Around her neck hangs a pendant, an oval disk made of some kind of bone. It looks like it's been decorated with carved designs, which are somewhat hard to make out on casual inspection. The pendant is hung on a leather thong.
Zeke is in the kitchen this morning, showered and dressed. He's eating a bowl full of dry oatmeal with strawberry bits in it and reading Life in the Woods. There's a serious look on his face as he scrunches his nose through a passage.
The back door opens, to admit KL surrounded by a gale of cold air. Despite the chill of winter, she's wearing her standard white t-shirt and cycling-short athletic kit. Her cheeks are reddened, and she's puffing through exertion as she closes the door quietly behind her and then enters the kitchen. "Good morning, Mr. Zeke!" she says in a cheery - if panty - voice. She heads for the fridge, and grabs the milk and starts to pour herself a glass.
Zeke lets out a frustrated hiss as the blast of cold actually turns the page on him. He folds it back down and looks over his shoulder at the girl. "Good morning." Apparently, whatever he's reading has him one tracked at the moment.
Having acheived her "glass of milk" goal, KL peers at the book. "What are you reading?" she asks, brightly. "Is it good? And what did you think of Cole and Laora's challenge?" She frowns. "I think Laora might be some kind of Irish Shadow Lord."
Zeke sits back and folds the book closed for now, relenting to the fact he'll get no more reading down. "It is Thoreau. And I can make no sense of Laora, and I don't..." he frowns, cutting himself off. "It frustrates me."
"I don't think I've heard of Furrow," The Intellectual Ahroun says, sitting herself down at the kitchen table. "Why does it frustrate you? What do you think you should be able to do about it? And is it Laora, or did I get thrown at the switchback?"
"Laora. And, everything." Zeke reaches in to draw a strawberry bit from the bowl. "By her words and actions, she is not a fit leader. And yet we have to go through the..." a pause follows as the metis tries to find the right word. Eventually it is spat out, perhaps with some surprise, "The bullshit of challenging. Why should a Garou in proper mindset have to conform to rules that protect the illegitimate?"
KL ponders this, taking a sip of milk. "I agree that she's not a fit leader," she says, slowly. "And I think the rules only seem to protect her. She's going to get challenged over and over again, until she loses one. Or until she shapes up or screws up." She shrugs. "Or some over-raged Ahroun tears her into shreds."
"That's just it KL. In her very own terms, she confessed to having given the Fang a mockery of a klaive. Then who is more lost of honor? Him for following the delusion, or her for giving it to him? Why she needs to be challenged, and, with her setting the terms for such, it's completely mind-boggling." The topic certainly seems to have Zeke restless, as he stands up and paces to the sink to get some water.
"Do you need the person offended against to bring a litany breach to you?" KL asks, curiously. "I mean, when I committed my great crime, I reported myself. But do you need Cedric to complain to you? He's a Fostern - I can't quite see how giving him a fake klaive is submission to those of higher status. If I could get him to see it..." she shrugs. "Silver Fangs".
Zeke lets out a growl, "It's not about manipulating everything and everyone to get the situation to match the terms. It's the terms that are a problem KL. I can't do this." He lets his head lean back as his eyes stare upward. "What kind of broken system forces the righteous to bow and curtail to the unrighteous?"
"Any system, ever," KL snarls back. "All of the ones that anyone has ever come up with." She pushes her chair back violently, standing up quickly. The chair teeters for a moment, then falls to the floor. "Our one just gives people half a fucking chance to do something about it. Yeah, it's unfair sometimes. And yeah, some fuckers work it. But they do that everywhere." She stabs a finger at Zeke. "It's *your* job to prevent them getting too far. It doesn't matter what the words are. *You* get to interpret them."
"It's not though! The terms are set, Cole wins if he meets /her/ terms. The fact she deceived Cedric, and Cole, and everyone else just to prove a point is not even taken into consideration and it should be. Based on what she said, the challenge should have ended there, with her having lost and Cole reclaiming the eldership." Zeke stares at the finger that pokes him. "What can be done KL? What?"
KL sighs, and leans back on the counter. "Talk to Blackriver," she says. "Or Vera. There are people in authority. There are people who have the power to do something about it." She pauses, waves her nearly-empty milk glass. "Whether they choose to or not..." her voice trails away.
Zeke nods, "Yeah, if they choose." The metis shakes his head, moving back to the table where he slides into his chair again. "I feel like I am trying to swim against the current. I'm a lousy metis, I have no place to question their ways."
"If not you, who? If not now, when?" KL says, as much to herself as to Zeke. She looks at Zeke again. "What happens if you fail? Are they going to kill you? To make you feel less than you are right at the moment? If you fail, you fail. But that's always been better than not trying."
Zeke looks up at the other, perhaps quietly taking her words to heart. "It just makes me so angry now. I used to just, think as I was taught to think. There wasn't this... this growing frustration before."
KL's lips purse into a slightly mocking expression. "So. Thinking for yourself leads to frustration," she says, eyes dancing. "Don't, then. Just toe the line. Go back to sleep. Do what you're told like a good little Omega." She pushes this last word, spitting it out.
"It's not like that KL!" he growls back. There has been, as of late, a growing streak of defiance in the metis. "The system doesn't work for me. It never will. I do what I'm told and I get a chance to survive, alright? I can't defend myself like you can with your sharp claws and grit."
The Ahroun folds her arms over her chest, her mocking eyes growing harder. "Don't you ever fucking well listen to a word I fucking say?" she yells. "Don't you understand?" She stalks towards him, puts out a hand to shove him in the shoulder. "If you die in battle, or get hit by a fucking truck, that's one thing. But if anyone gives you shit and is going to fucking well kill you then they will have to fucking well come through me first or I will rip them into fucking pieces so fucking tiny that they'll need a fucking microphone to find them."
Zeke takes the shove and glares at her, "And what does /that/ do for me KL? Shows people that I'm not strong enough to handle my own fights, if I can't even handle myself among other Garou, then why I am still fucking walking?" He stands up then and a hand moves to push her out of the way.
The push shoves the Ahroun backward, but she's still largely in the way. "I don't fucking well know," KL retorts. "Why are you fucking walking? You're so fucking scared of everything, you fucking child. Grow the fuck up. Get the fuck up and get the fuck fighting. Or you'll never be anything but a miserable fucking disaster."
"I'm not scared of everything!" If the Ahroun is attempting to fuel his fire and get him to react, she's doing it splendidly. "I'm tired of it." Zeke's eyes turn hard now, his head shaking lightly. "What do you want from me anyway? Want me to fight you? Want me to get all angry and let it out and use you as the punching bag? To what end? Huh? Nothing changes what I am."
KL spits back the answer, her eyes dangerously hard. "I fucking well want you to be happy." She turns away from him abruptly, stalking back towards the counter upon which her milk glass sits.
"Then..." he stops, all the fire pulled from him as he realizes he has no answer for her. Zeke stares at the retreating Ahroun for a long moment, mouth open but silent. "Are you happy?" he asks then, tone softer, genuine with curiosity.
"When I'm not angry," KL says, without turning back. "Sometimes when I am." A shrug. "Yeah, more or less. Some things could be better, some worse. I'm happy mostly. And I think that's all that I want, really."
"Then what makes you happy?" He's quieting down now, and he puts himself back into his chair and fusses a hand over the table. "What do you think about to make you happy?"
The Ahroun doesn't answer immediately, but instead pours herself another glass of milk. "I don't, really," she answers eventually, finally turning to face him, and leaning back against the counter. "If I'm down, I usually go for a run, and I feel the wind in my face and the trees and animals all around me. Or I come up with something to do. I'm only really unhappy when I'm bored, so I try to keep busy." She considers. "When it got really bad, after I got jackalled, I went away for a bit just to be with myself and Gaia, really. And that worked, just about. Oh, yes, and then there's shouting at people. That makes me happy sometimes and unhappy others."
Zeke lets out a sigh, "I don't think any of those suggestions will work for me. I don't shout well, or run well, and when I've nothing to do, I start thinking and thinking drags me in circles."
KL looks sympathetic. "You gotta find something," she says. "Because otherwise the things you can't control are going to get to you. And...well...you can't control them." She looks puzzled, as if even she has lost the thread of this little speech. "Yeah," she finishes, coming in as runner up in the "most coherent Garou in the room" competition.
Zeke gives a nod. "I'll try to find something then. I'll think about it."
The Ahroun looks a little disappointed, as if she was hoping for a better result, but she nods and smiles encouragingly, and drains her glass of milk, turning to the sink to wash it up.
Zeke lets out a held breath in a long sigh. "Sorry for yelling at you, and shoving you, KL."
KL grins over her shoulder as she dries the glass. "That's one thing you absolutely never need to apologise to me about," she says, cheerfully. "Sorry I shouted and pushed you. But I can't guarantee to apologise the next time. Just remember that I forgive most people really easily, and I don't hold grudges."
Zeke nods his head at that, "You're good for me in that regard KL." He stands up then and moves past her, a hand clasping her shoulder briefly. "I'm feeling restless, so I'm going to head to the caern like we talked about."
"Good plan," KL says. "And...um...talk to a theurge you like at some point? I mean, they aren't just for cleansing and dedicating clothing, I've been told." She pauses. "I'll get on with making Yule. I've decided I'm going to call it Yule, by the way."
Zeke smiles at the other, "It fits." He pulls his hat down a bit more and, leaving the book on the table, slips out the door.