midsummer's pack.

-anvil of justice-

Guardians are plentiful in the Sept of Forgotten Questions, mighty bastion of Gaia that it is. Guardians who know where to find Midsummer's pack aren't hard to find either, though it takes a bit of convincing to pull one away from her duties. In the end Avery has to settle for a somewhat surly teenager who pops gum while directing the Philodox -- still her yuf for now -- out of the Sept.

It turns out Midsummer's pack lives at the edge of Roxborough Park. The town, that is. They have a house there, a sizeable, pretty thing with blue shutters and a nifty little wrought-iron gate. The smell of several wolves, plus a good number of kin, is discernible if Avery checks.

There's a male on the porch when Avery pulls up. He is not Silver Fang. His unremarkable lineage gives no hint as to his tribe, though his coloring -- blond and blue -- at least narrows it down to a small handful of likelihoods. He stands when he sees Avery exit her car, and he reaches back to smack the palm of his hand on the door.

A moment later a second packmate opens the door. She is a tall woman, hard-faced and strong-boned. Her hands are wet; suds drip off her fingers. Her skin is sun-bronzed, her hair dark as jet. Some tracery of Native blood likely runs in her veins. Not Silver Fang either, then.

They watch Avery as she approaches. They are not hostile -- not yet, anyway -- but she can all but smell their wariness. The male's eyes skim to the Guardian now and again, but it's the female that speaks:

"What can I do for ya?"

Reverence of Dawn

Tonight Avery, in white with an undercurrent of black, is driving her cute little Juke. The Tesla, after all, is for city driving. That's the car that pulls up to the curb at the end of the driveway of the blue house that, except in color, is nearly identical to all the other houses in this division. When she steps out of the car, her breeding can be felt for a mile. When she walks, purposeful but slow, up to the gate, her eyes are on the guy on the porch.

She does not open the gate. She stands with her hands laced patiently in front of her, until the woman who appears to have been washing dishes comes outside. For the most part, Avery is not paying much attention to the young Guardian with her; the need to Get Away For A While is familiar on a bone-deep level to her, and she didn't argue with the girl insisted on coming along.

"Good evening," she says, her voice carrying and clear. "My name is Avery Chase. I am challenged with discovering the truth of the matter regarding your absent packmate, and I am requesting your help." She doesn't mince words. She doesn't hide the fact that this is a challenge.

And it isn't quite I'd like you to answer a few questions, ma'am.

-anvil of justice-

"Help?" Now the needle's swinging toward hostility. "You mean help you hunt down our brother? No matter what he's done, he doesn't deserve that. Find him yourself." -- and the female turns to go back inside.

The male, meanwhile, watches Avery with the flat stare and jutting jaw of an enforcer-beta.

Reverence of Dawn

It's no more than she expected. No less, seen another way.

Avery waits only a moment after the woman turns. "I ran halfway across the country because the kinsman I loved was mated to another," she says, her voice just as clear, just as steady as before. Just as calm.

"I will discover the truth about your brother, Rhya," oh, she senses the female's rank, she does. "And if he is deserving, I will deliver a just punishment. I assure you that if that is the case, it will be not be the enraged retribution he has fled. Please understand that I intend to follow this challenge through to the end not only because I have been tasked with it, but because I do not doubt that the longer he remains hidden, the more viciously he will be hunted.

"True justice can be a mercy," Avery says, a little quieter. "It can be salvation."

Reverence of Dawn

[Charisma (charming) + Empathy]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 1, 4, 5, 8) ( success x 1 )

Reverence of Dawn

[+ PB]

Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (5, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )

-anvil of justice-

The Alpha -- because that is undoubtedly what this woman is, never mind if she's in old jeans and a drab man's-shirt, never mind that her hands are soapy from dishes or laundry or whatever it is she may have been doing -- the Alpha's nostrils flare viciously. A violent light simmers in her eyes. She comes forward two steps, grabs the porch railing with those dripping hands of hers, leans over it to snarl at Avery:

"Mercy!"

For a second it seems she might tear that railing apart. Might come charging down from the porch to throat Avery. Behind the Silver Fang, the Guardian in the Juke has quietly slipped out of the Juke. She isn't popping her gum, either. She's watching, wary, her balance on the balls of her feet.

But --

beat by beat, the Alpha's rage subsides. Subsumes into something closer to disgust. She gives a short, sharp shake of her head.

"I can see you believe every word out of your mouth. So at least you aren't another one of Iron Tooth's two-faced lackeys."

Iron Tooth. Avery knows the name. Knows the Garou, if only obliquely: seen him hulking across the moot fires with his shoulders draped in pelts, his claws clenched around a massive fetish-hammer. Every inch the Shadow Lord. Every inch the Lord of the Summit. An Adren going on Athro. A Theurge of immense and brutal power. Word has it his mate is ten years his junior, a delicate pretty thing

that, come to think of it, no one has seen around for the last couple weeks.

"But if you think Iron Tooth is going to let the judgment of some not-quite-Fostern stand between him and his vengeance," the Alpha goes on, "you've got another think coming. If you find Midsummer's Shadow, and if you drag him back to the Caern, neither truth nor justice will ever see the light of day. I promise you that."

Reverence of Dawn

Avery stands as unflinching and even as she has been since she ...well. Since she set out tonight to meet Anvil of Justice. She does breathe in, deeply, when faced with a higher-ranked wolf snarling in her face, but she does not draw back.

"I was not challenged to return him to the caern for the sept's judgement," Avery answers quietly. "I am to find him, render judgement, and personally carry out any punishment I deem fit." There's a gleam in her eye, a sharpness one may typically reserve for no-moons.

"I am not a bounty hunter or runner of errands, Rhya," Avery says, politely but firmly. "I am a Judge."

-anvil of justice-

A low sound in the Alpha's throat: a growl that doesn't quite coalesce. All the while the Beta is staring, staring, staring at Avery. There is no doubt, and there should be none, that he would be right on his Alpha's heels if she were to attack. There isn't even the pretense of a fair fight here.

Or, in the end, a fight at all. The Alpha takes another breath, short and sharp.

"What do you want to know?" she demands. "Make it quick."

[and PAWS! folded ones.]

Reverence of Dawn

Even before she asks, Avery doubts that they will let her come inside. She's still standing on the opposite side of the gate and if they were in four-legged forms tonight, these two might very well be baring their teeth, fur on end and hackles up, snarling on every breath in warning.

But ask she does: politely, quietly: May I come inside?

The questions are, in the same, not much different either way.

--

"I am invoking Gaia's gift of truth," Avery tells them, carefully. "Should my judgement be called into question, particularly if I give clemency to your packmate due in part to what you tell me, I do not want it to be overturned over something as weak as not wanting to offend you."

So there: they know. And it will tell her something if they refuse to speak, just as if they choose to answer.

"I want to know, as you understand it, the nature of the crime that Midsummer's Shadow has been accused of."

Reverence of Dawn @ 10:35AM[Truth of Gaia: Intelligence + Empathy.Difficulty = Target's Manipulation + Subterfuge]Roll: 5 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 6, 8, 8) ( success x 3 ) VALID

Reverence of Dawn

[just gonna reroll to see!]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 3, 9, 9) ( success x 2 )

Reverence of Dawn

[bah]

-iron tooth-

'They.'

The pack. Midsummer's pack. They are four: the Alpha-female, the enforcer-Beta-male. A third male, younger, blood as mottled and unpristine as his packmates', a thin sallow thing that comes to linger on the porch. And the fourth, Midsummer himself, very notably not present.

They do not let Avery come in. They are not so gracious as she. The Alpha does in fact bare her teeth at the question; it is answer enough. She does, however, permit the Philodox to advance past the gate. To come to the foot of the porch.

The question elicits a sound of open disgust. She turns her face away, but after a small hesitation the younger male speaks up.

"He's been sniffin' after Iron Tooth-rhya's mate. Been goin' on a few months. Then they says he just snapped or somethin'. Broke into their house while Rhya was away, I guess, and gone after her. There was blood everywhere and they're both gone, so, Jesus. I guess he killed her."

"They accused him of it," the Beta says flatly. "They've proven nothing."

The Alpha: she faces away from them all. Even in profile, her face is a mask of rage.

Reverence of Dawn

[I'm gonna assume that everything said is true (or that the younger guy has higher-than-8 Man/Sub) unless you tell me otherwise!Also going to have some EMPAFEE going, just as a general read. Don't want to miss any nuances.

Reverence of Dawn @ 11:39AM[Perception + Empathy]Roll: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 4, 8, 8) ( success x 2 ) VALID]

The Alpha and Beta aren't speaking to her. The younger one, as far as he knows it, is telling the truth: Midsummer was, in his opinion at very least, 'sniffing after' the female for a few months. Everything else he says is hearsay: he hears it, but his belief in it sounds mottled... but leans on the side of trusting the hearsay. Avery watches him as he talks, asking him: "Did you see Iron Tooth-rhya's house -- signs of forced entry, struggle, blood?" Her tone is curious; for all she knows, the answer is yes. It's not unusual for young people to couch things they actually know in the words of someone they think has more authority, but the truth is: she doubts that's the case.

Her eyes gradually turn back to the Beta after the younger wolf answers. "You're his packmate," she says, stating the obvious. "Do you believe that he 'snapped'? Did he ever talk to you about Iron Tooth-rhya's mate, even in passing?" If yes: "How did he seem to you when he spoke of her?"

Her only question for the Alpha, back turned or no, is this: "What do you think of Iron Tooth-rhya?"

-iron tooth-

[1) Everything said was true!

2) Empafee: the younger guy (we'll call him Gamma wolf cuz I AM TOO LAZY TO NAME THESE GUYS) thinks Midsummer did it and he's shocked and appalled and thinks Midsummer deserves whatever he gets. Beta has his reservations; Midsummer was his brother and he doesn't think he could have done it -- but then Beta is conflicted as hell, too. He isn't sure if he just never saw it, if he missed something, what. Alpha is pissed, pissed, pissed. That overshadows anything else.]

"Yeah, I saw it. It was a fuckin' mess. Furniture splintered, thrown through windows, claws marks on the ground. Blood everywhere." A pause; a grimace. "In the bedroom, too. On the bed. It was fucked up. I know he was my brother," this is more for Beta than anyone, "but he went way too far, man."

Avery turns her attention to the Beta, then. Unlike his younger brother, the Beta is slower to speak. He fixes Avery with that flat, unrevealing stare; thinks for some time.

Then, "Midsummer was level. Even-keeled. He would never snap. Never." A pause. It's with considerable reluctance that he admits, "He did speak of Iron Tooth-rhya's mate, though. Frequently. There was some trouble brewing last year and the elders set a handful of Cliaths on the village to watch over the 'important' kin. That's when Midsummer met her.

"But it was compassion he felt for her, not lust. She was sixteen when she was given to Iron Tooth-rhya. He was nearly twice her age and he had never known anything but war since boyhood. He was cold and hardhearted, and he treated her coldly and hardheartedly. Midsummer's Shadow spoke of how she never wanted the match; how she wanted a life to call her own, and to escape. He liked her. He pitied her. He wouldn't have wanted to hurt her."

"Yeah well," the Gamma interjects, "toward he was saying shit like 'I know she's unhappy' and 'I know she wants out'. 'Cause it's not a red flag or anything when some guy starts claiming he knows what a girl wants. Oh, and let's not forget that one time he said 'she'd be better off dead'."

"He had just witnessed her publically reprimand by her mate."

"He still said it."

The Beta's mouth is a hard line. He looks away from his packmate, clearly annoyed.

--

Avery addresses the Alpha, then. Just one question. The answer comes; the Alpha doesn't turn, and her voice is hard.

"Iron Tooth likes what he does. He's damn good at what he does. And what he does is win."

Reverence of Dawn

Avery, questioning the three of them in turn, listening to the three of them in turn, gives no nod or headshake, no frown or pull of the brows. She remains impassive, though for someone like her it's not that she is trying ever so hard to conceal her thoughts or reactions. She is thinking, so intently and so broadly, unspooling her mind so that while a piece of her listens for the truth, another listens for the passion, another creates scenarios to consider later, another silently thanks the guardian beside her for stopping that incessant gum-snapping.

At the end, Avery only takes a breath, then looks at the Beta. "I have one more question, and then I will move on. I will not ask you to betray your packmate, whatever he has or has not done."

That settles in the air a moment, and then she asks the one whose loyalty and love for his packmate is clearest, is not clouded by shock or shame nor what seems like almost frenzied fury. "You say he is,"

note her tense,

"even-keeled and level. Would you also say that Midsummer's Shadow is a planner or strategist?" A beat of a pause. "Cunning, even."

-iron tooth-

A beat -- barely that -- of hesitation. But in it Avery sees the Beta's eyes skip sideways and back; sees the faintest sliver of tension flicker across his face.

Then he lies:

"No."

-- and changes it, but a moment later, into a half-truth: "He is trustworthy and true. He is no serpent in our midst."

Reverence of Dawn

The lie makes Avery's eyebrows twitch faintly. Not enough to curve and raise, but enough to tell that they almost did. The words that follow are hard to discern: what parts are true, what parts are false, but they are not outright lies. She does not dress him down for that; not here and now.

"Of course not," Avery says gently, after the Beta has answered her. "I apologize if my words implied such." She inclines her head to the three of them. "Thank you all for your cooperation. I will endeavor to give you advance notice if I intend to return, if I am able. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

With that, she withdraws, exiting through the gate unless stopped by one of the three, heading back towards her car with the young guardian. Whom, upon starting the engine again, she turns to. "Do you know if Iron Tooth-rhya's mate has family? Parents, siblings, even mortal friends? Do you know,"

and there's a sliver of annoyed, frustrated, even somewhat angry tension threaded through the words,

"her name?"

Since, so far, everyone she's spoken with has failed to use it.

-iron tooth-

The Guardian

(who is about fifteen years old. who is so fresh a Cliath Avery can almost smell her greenness. who is so young, so new, so untried that war is still a bit of a game to her. something she thinks she can snap her gum through. something she thinks might just cave to her teenage bravado, her youthful cockiness, her idealism.)

is, quite honestly, just rather happy to be out of the Caern. Even if out of the Caern is just as far as the village. She's looking out the window, staring at everything, and when Avery speaks she snaps her head guiltily around.

"Um. I think she was from pretty far away. Don't think she really has any fam nearby, y'know? I think her name was like... something Russian. Ilya? Ilyana?"

Reverence of Dawn

People of the young cliath's age strike a chord in Avery. She did not feel ready, when she changed. She didn't feel prepared to take on what was before her -- largely because there is not much one can do to truly prepare for what they become -- and she felt woefully inexperienced. Still feels that way, sometimes. And she was much older than the gum-chewer in her passenger seat.

She wasn't ready for her mother to die when she was that age. She wasn't ready to face the reality that when she was mated and wedded that her mother would not be there with her. She wasn't ready to keep going through high school, even the high school she attended with its immaculate grounds and crisp uniforms and model U.N. and walls full of portraits of alumni who had gone on to be leaders in the country, whether in government or business or media. She wasn't ready to feel so alone in the world even when she knew she was not, and she wasn't ready to feel so separated from what was familiar and comforting. So abandoned.

Years later she looked back and wondered how these garou who change so young, who are barely adolescents when they shapeshift for the first time, even survive it. It must be their youth that shields them, even as her youth when her mother died only made her more vulnerable to the shock of loss.

With a small shake of her head, Avery dismisses her meandering thoughts, selfish as they are, and does not comment on the girl's eagerness to be out and about nor her bizarre little moment of guilt for indulging in it. Right now she's not sure if she would remind the girl that she's working right now or if she'd tell her to look all she can, get out in the world a little, get a life. So she does neither.

She frowns, tapping one of her fingers on the wheel at a four-way stop. There's no other cars for miles, so she idles there a moment, thinking. Then exhaling, slowly, through her nostrils. "Then we go talk to Iron Tooth," she says, and looks at the guardian for direction towards the Shadow Lord's home.