After the hotel suite's door clicks closed behind the last of the wolves and kin to depart, Avery exhales a short, soft breath. She can feel the weight of packed garou outside the door, hoping that neither Javed's claws nor Keisha and Charlotte's healing will be necessary. She looks at Phoebe and Erich, her brow furrowed, and her eyes slightly pained.
"Will you not," she says, her voice that much clearer in the remaining silence, the note of imploring that much heightened: "mediate this with me in sanity and respect for one another?"
There is a measure of silence.
"You both have the chance to set down your pride and your frustration, just now. You both are wise enough to know that the rift today may only be deepened by a challenge, not healed by it. Even if both winner and loser walk away satisfied, think of the damage done between your packs. You are alphas," she tells them, achingly, obviously unaware that there is some sort of bizarre flat heirarchy between Erich and Charlotte and even more unaware that they tool around with a kinswoman of all things. "Your packmates are not here with you. They will not see what I see. They will not feel, as you feel, the catharsis of challenge.
"Do you both accept," she goes on, her voice lowered, heavier, steadier, "the responsibility for whatever resentment and bitterness may arise, days or months from now, between the wolves you call your sisters? Do you both accept, with your whole hearts, the fruits of dissent and division that are held within the seeds you are both so willfully sowing today? Because I promise you that whether months or years from now, I will remember this moment, and this challenge, and should harm come to our septs and our nation because of it, I will recall for both of you the responsibility you share for it."
Avery pauses there. She is not pleading with them. But the fact that she hopes, deeply, for them to step down, is threaded through every word, every nuance of inflection.
"Turn away from each other," she says softly. "There are other ways to resolve this. Surely you are both courageous enough and wise enough to see that."
Reverence of Dawn
[Rules time!
If both Phoebe and Erich turn away now, the facedown challenge is over and a new challenge can be engaged in or mediation with Avery.
If only one of them turns away and the other persists, the one who is still staring automatically wins.
If neither of them turn away, the facedown challenge goes on.
Obviously, there's no way for Phoebe or Erich to know what the other will do.]
Reverence of Dawn
[Please PM me with what your character is going to do before posting!]
Storm's Teeth
[Erich would turn away. Probably with some grumbling.]
Siren of Persephone
There is motion around them as the other wolves and their kin filter out of the room, but Phoebe sees only the blue of Erich's eyes, the red-veined white sea that surrounds them, the tightened skin that cradles them in his skull.
There is a moment of silence before their Philodox mediator speaks reason to those whose fires have been stoked by perceived or unintentinal insults.
"I accept full responsibility, and if such a time comes," she says, not taking her eyes from Erich's, "I will accept it then, as well. I would prefer to talk this out, however," teeth grit, never the less the corner of her mouth lifts oh so slightly, "I realize pride may make that impossible. Perhaps, with only Reverence of Dawn to see us, we can call a draw.
"I will look away if you will, Storm's Teeth."
Storm's Teeth
As the others leave -- as Charlotte leaves -- Erich's tension only seems to wind tighter. The room grows quiet. His breathing is audible.
Into that near-silence Avery speaks. She is compelling. She is the voice of Falcon itself, of honor and truth, and for a moment Erich remembers why he once said to her: you make me want to do better.
Be better.
With a short snort -- and before Siren has to extend the proverbial olive branch -- the Ahroun turns sharply away from the Theurge. He folds his arms across his chest and he glowers, waiting.
Siren of Persephone
After Avery speaks, before Phoebe can start to accept that responsibility, Erich turns sharply away. Phoebe's eyes widen, surprised at the suddenness, but she quickly follows suit, turning away to study the upholstery. Once dropped, she is not one to continue a course of anger.
Siren of Persephone
[delete first post!]
Reverence of Dawn
At first, neither wolf turns away. Or answers. Avery waits. She has no small reserve of patience, after all. Ask her one day where that comes from, when she is not as docile as some other wolves and when she is not so enraged that control is paramount, when she has no vows of pacifism to uphold. But even when her control slips, she still has patience.
Then Erich snorts, and turns his eyes sharply, suddenly away. Something elated and glorious rises in Avery's chest, those flickers of hubris and megalomania that are temptations for so many of her tribe but far more easily tamped down in her than in some others where temptation becomes true madness. She allows herself, quite simply, to feel proud. To feel good.
Then Phoebe, perhaps startled that Erich looked away from her, turns her eyes onto the couch instead. That elation only rises higher, and for a moment the air in the room is infected with -- rather than tension and bitterness and anger -- a burst of bright and delighted energy.
It takes effort, but effort she is more than willing to expend, not to clap her hands and bounce on the balls of her feet, but right now that would be a trifle undignified, so Avery doesn't. She smiles at both of them, though that smile may only be seen in periphery. It fades a moment later, dying a natural and unstimulated death.
"I will remember your honor," she says quietly to them, "rather than your pride."
The acknowledgement is given, and then a breath is taken. "However, what happened during the warmoot still stands," she says, her voice weighted again with the same tension and frustration that grew so heightened during the moot. She looks from one to the other. "I will tell you plainly that I think you both exhibited behavior -- in an argument about maturity, of all things -- that I found appallingly childish. You must understand I say this from a place of respect for you both: up until today I had seen nothing from either of you that would prepare me for a display like that, and my surprise and... forgive me, but my embarrassment far outstrip any other reaction.
"To the point," Avery goes on, still letting her eyes go from wolf to wolf in turn, "that it does not matter to me 'who started it'. If the two of you would like to argue about that, by all means, let me ask the Shadow Lord kinswoman to come back inside, as she is a mother and may be better equipped for such a debate."
Hopefully that is the limit of Avery's dressing-down for them. It is as close as she is willing to come to insulting either of them. She inhales deeply and exhales.
"That is my declaration: you are both at fault. If you would like me to draw out, in detail, where I think these failures fell, I will. Personally, I think it is a waste of everyone's time to do so, as my next point is this: who is 'at fault' is not the core issue here. Nor is dominance, which is why I wanted to put a stop to a simple staredown. I am also not your therapist, so your personal feelings in the matter are of less concern, regardless of the bonds of allies and friendship I feel for you both. My goal is for everyone to walk out of this room without frenzy, without bloodshed, and with at least some measure of mutual satisfaction or acceptance of the outcome.
"There must be a challenge at this point," she says firmly. "There will be a winner and a loser. You will both have a chance, in three minutes or less, to state what you see as your side of the dispute. You must state what you view as offensive to you, and what you want from the outcome. Speak briefly and speak plainly. We will go from there."
At this, Avery takes her seat again. She folds her hands on her lap and looks at Siren. "Siren of Persephone-rhya, as the higher ranked wolf, you will speak first."
Reverence of Dawn
[Post in 10 minutes or less! Sorry mine took so long!]
Siren of Persephone
Phoebe lifts her head to look not at the Ahroun, but at the Philodox. She is not rankled by the dressing down, merely nods her head in acceptance of her verdict.
And then she looks to Erich.
"The offense to me was the belittling of the others in the room. For what it's worth, Erich, at first I didn't think you intended insult or disrespect. Sometimes we say things and don't consider the affect they may have on our audience. As for the outcome I'd like, all I ask for is an apology, not for myself, but for my sisters, who have only ever conducted themselves with a dignity that belies their years."
Storm's Teeth
"I was pissed off," Erich snaps, clearly still grumpy, "because you totally read the worst possible meaning into what I said and then decided that the middle of a warmoot was the best time to raise a stink about it. If you knew I wasn't trying to insult you, then why the hell make a fuss about it? And I know I'm repeating myself, but: in the middle of a warmoot!
"I don't know what I want from the outcome. I want you to stop being so sensitive and wanting apologies for imagined insults. I'll apologize for calling you a crybaby and telling you to shut up though."
Reverence of Dawn
Avery is thoughtful a while after both of them speak. She considers what they've said for some time, in fact.
First she turns to Siren of Persephone. "While you may, at times, speak on behalf of your packmates, I do not know for certain if any of them were offended by Storm's Teeth. Did any of them speak to you, through your totem perhaps, to claim offense?"
Then she turns to Storm's Teeth. "I believe your demand places an undue burden on Siren of Persephone for an unspecified duration. She cannot be required to use your estimation of her 'sensitivity' as a standard of what is offensive or not for the future. What else would you like as an outcome?"
[Truth of Gaia: difficulty is your PC's Manipulation + Subterfuge.]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 5, 5, 5) ( fail )
Reverence of Dawn
[4 successes with Siren of Persephone | 5 successes with Storm's Teeth]
Storm's Teeth
Erich thinks a moment, frowning, the sharp edges of his teeth catching his lower lip.
"I want you to stop demanding an apology for something you knew wasn't meant to be offensive, then," he says. "And I know," this is to Avery, "that sounds like I'm trying to jip her of what she wants. But I'm not. I'll still apologize for calling her a crybaby and stuff, because that was disrespectful and rude. I just don't want to apologize for offending her by not including her in my 'you seem like a grownup' statement. 'Cause seriously, that's basically gonna be me saying 'I'm sorry you read too much into nothing and got butthurt over something I didn't even mean to hurt your butt with'. Which is totally counterproductive.
"It'd also be nice if in the future you," now he's addressing Phoebe again, "left personal issues like this for after warmoots."
Siren of Persephone
"No," answers Phoebe, "not across our pack link. I know Winona was from her outburst." Her mouth quirks, the expression fond, the love she has for her pack sisters overwhelming in that way that makes other people go ugh! STAHP!, an affection she couldn't hide even if she wanted to (and why would she ever try?). She shakes her head, though, because she's not about to share with either of them the deep wounds of her younger pack sibling.
"But I see your point. If you would accept a slight change?" she asks Avery, and if the answer is at least considering - Phoebe doesn't expect her to say yes without hearing it first - she continues, "Ask them. If no offense was taken, then no apology is necessary."
Storm's Teeth
Erich bursts: "I'm not going to apologize for them deciding to get butthurt over me saying Avery, Javed and Eva are grownups! I mean come on! What are they gonna get butthurt over next, me saying the sky is blue because oh my god their eyes are so totally blue too, how could you not mention that."
Reverence of Dawn
Avery focuses on the meat of what is said. There is a lot of steam to wave away.
Erich apologizes for being disrespectful and rude. He will not apologize for the offense she took even knowing no offense was intended. He wants her to save personal issues for after warmoots have concluded.
Phoebe admits that none of her packmates spoke of offense to her across their pack link. She mentions Winona's 'outburst', which Avery remembers as a laugh and a quip. Thus her brows stitch together a moment, and then smooth again. She says that Avery can ask them.
And Erich erupts saying he won't apologize to them either.
--
Avery lifts a hand, saying sharply: "Enough." Her hand lowers again. "I am dismissing from this discussion any further mention of whether or not the other Desert Oracles were offended. It is not of issue between <i>the two of you</i> on this night. I am not going to ask them, though they are welcome to issue challenges to Storm's Teeth at the next moot if it is important enough to them to do so." She is honest, if nothing else, so she turns to Phoebe and tells her: "I will caution you, though: if this is brought up at the moot, not only your pack but perhaps most Fosterns and Cliaths in the septs will be looked on as squabbling cubs. I do not think this matter deserves the attention of both septs gathered, especially with the trials we are all facing now."
She is quiet for a few moments. She looks at Erich.
"What you said -- that Javed, Ms. Illeshazy, and I 'seem the most grown up' -- was innocently meant. That was clear to me, though in fact I was a bit embarrassed to be flattered so. It is my judgement that the majority of wolves and kin present took it as innocently as it was intended and did not take offense, given that our shared goal is to arrange our forces in a manner that will be the most beneficial, and that we all understand the import of calling out who has greater skill in different areas. It could have been more diplomatically spoken; in this warmoot, you proved why you were right not to place yourself in the group going to speak to the Warder. Plainly stated, yuf: you put your foot firmly in your mouth. Twice. To the point that a Galliard not even of your pack was scrambling to try and stop you.
"You called the warmoot. You started giving directions to other wolves and kin, as an ahroun who calls a warmoot is meant to do. But if you intend to take a leadership role in the war -- and I remind you that whether you intend it or not, you will be called upon to lead in war regardless due to your auspice -- you must learn to speak more carefully. Perhaps among your packmates or among others of your auspice, you may be as blunt as you like. When you gather all auspices together, with kinfolk present, taking lead among both peers and superiors in rank, the responsibility for making sure you are understood does fall in some measure on <i>you</i>. You cannot dictate how others react, and it is unreasonable to demand that they give you unlimited benefit of the doubt."
With that, she turns to Phoebe. "However: Siren of Persephone-rhya, I believe you overreacted. If you knew at the time that no disrespect was intended, why respond with such obvious irritation over something so minor? If your goal, as you said, was to draw Storm's Teeth's attention to his words, you did a very poor job of it and -- when that attempt failed -- you offered him barely restrained laughter at his expense and then: dismissal. You are wise enough to know the effect that would have on anyone, much less a wolf of high rage." There is a pause, and faintly aching frown. "He goaded you, after that. He blatantly and rather appallingly disrespected you. He was directly insulting with the 'girls you're all pretty' and the 'crybaby' comments. I would agree that you are owed a clear and complete apology for that, and I do not fault you for your anger at him.
"You should have brought this up to him after the warmoot. As a fostern and a leader, you could have spoken to him with the respect and thoughtfulness that you have in advantage over him, thus setting the kind of example that would have been truly helpful and reflected well on both you and your packmates. I do not think this would have devolved, and I think you could have taught Storm's Teeth a true lesson, if you had been more patient. I understand that perceiving an insult created a... kneejerk response, and that you were wary of letting it slide among a gathering of werewolves and looking weak as a result, or not sticking up for your pack when you believed they had been disrespected. These are all completely valid reactions to have, ones that any among us might have. But even so, a warmoot is not the time nor place for personal grievances, and we all know that."
--
Avery clears her throat, excuses herself quietly, and takes a moment to take a sip of water from a nearby glass before she continues. When she sets the glass down, she rises to her feet. When she speaks, there is a note of declaration in her tone.
"Storm's Teeth-yuf, I judge you guilty of thoughtless words. For this you receive a warning: should I judge you again for the same offense, you will submit to the Rite of the Jackdaw and feel the true weight of speaking carelessly among your kind.
"I judge you guilty of blatant disrespect and insult to a garou of higher rank, a far more serious offense that borders on breach of the laws of our people. We are at war, and you are not a new moon: you will not be permitted to goad and shout insults at those above you because you think they are 'being too sensitive'. For this, you will offer Siren of Persephone-rhya a Rite of Contrition. If you do not know the rite, you will have until the full moon to learn and perform it for her."
Her hands folded gently in front of her, she turns to Phoebe.
"Siren of Persephone-rhya, I charge you with patience, self-control, and the call to stand as an example and teacher to those beneath you. You must accept contrition from Storm's Teeth-yuf and show greater respect for the call of war in the future. Personal matters can wait. Pride is a dangerous distraction that is often a foothold for our enemies. Laughing at and dismissing the anger of those beneath you is not a show of mutual respect.
"As with Storm's Teeth-yuf, I will be watching your behavior going forward, and I will remember it."
Avery looks between the two of them. "You are both better than you have been today, but there are none among us who have not fallen short. Remember, in both self-reflection and in dealing with one another in the future, that we are all <i>better than this</i>. Have that faith in yourselves. But more importantly, have that faith in each other, even when you watch your brother or your sister
"stick their foot in their mouth," she says to Siren of Persphone,
"or overreact," she says to Storm's Teeth.
She pauses a moment, then ends. "My judgement is passed."
Phoebe
Phoebe listens, her eyes on Erich, as Avery delivers her judgment. When the Philodox accuses her of barely contained laughter the Theurge is momentarily confused, for a moment her frown matches the other woman's. It lasts about as long, is replaced with a look of comprehension, but she does not interrupt.
When it's finished, she nods, and offers a rueful smile to the Ahroun. "Please accept my apologies, Storm's Teeth, if you thought I was laughing at you. My humor was not because of <I>your</I> words. And I didn't mean to be dismissive of you, but the situation. As you've said, it was neither the time nor the place, and I tried to let it go in favor of the greater issues at hand. In the future I will strive for greater control and empathy.
"I'd like to invite you and your pack to share a meal with me and mine, to get to know each other better." That smile shifts, softens, dims. "It's alright if you say no, but I hope that you'll say yes."
Erich
There's a small quiet after Avery speaks. After Phoebe speaks.
Then:
"Rhya," that's to Avery, "I fully accept that I'm guilty of disrespecting my elders when I called Phoebe a crybaby and told her to shut up. That was not cool. I'll accept that I've spoken without thinking, and I really ought to word things more carefully in the future. I'll accept that I did more to escalate this than Phoebe did. I'll give Siren of Persephone-rhya the apology she's owed. I'll do better from here on out. And I will," this, directly to Siren, "be happy to have dinner with you and your pack to try to mend this rift.
"But I'm not quite ready to walk out of this room yet. For one thing, Rhya," to Avery again. "You laid two guilty verdicts on me, and two punishments to match. I have to go learn a Rite to formally apologize. If I say something that happens to piss someone else off again, even if I didn't mean anything but it, I get a <i>totally</i> humiliating Rite of Punishment. Meanwhile, Phoebe just gets 'charged' to do everything she's already supposed to be doing, and ... that's pretty much it. If that's how this stands, the whole Sept will see this as 'Erich all wrong, Phoebe all right'. And that isn't how this went down.
"The other thing -- the more important thing, maybe -- is that I don't think we've really come to an understanding yet. Me and Phoebe, I mean. I think maybe she thinks now that I only got angry because I thought she was laughing at me. And okay, that definitely helped tip me from annoyed to all-out pissed? But so did her packmate picking that shit up again, and so did everyone else rolling their eyes and loudly sighing about what I already knew -- how unimportant this shit was compared to a wyrmhole under the Sept. My point is, me thinking she was laughing at me or not wasn't the root of the issue for me, and I want to make sure Phoebe knows what my beef really was with her because that's the only way we move forward. And I want to know what her beef was with me because that's the only way I don't step on her toes again.
"I think..."
He's quiet another minute, thinking. Then:
"Avery-- Reverence of Dawn-rhya, I know you've stopped our facedown, and I know you've passed judgment. But I think maybe what we really need from you right now is to just ... stand between us and mediate for a little longer. Help us talk about this without losing our cool. If you're willing to do that,"
he turns to Phoebe, then "and if you're willing to listen, then I'd like to talk about this a little more." A wry cant of his mouth, "Hopefully without getting all pissed off again."
Avery
Phoebe's confusion, and her voicing of rueful apology to Erich, meets only an impassive expression on Avery's. She stands with her hands folded, without reaction to the extension of an offer of dinner between Erich and the pack. After the fostern speaks, she turns to Erich, and he
calls her <i>Rhya</i>, making her eyebrows flicker upward, and she tenses slightly, a faint straightening of her spine and squaring of her shoulders. As he speaks, her frame relaxes, but her head tips to the side.
When he is done, she unfolds her hands, steps back, and lowers herself into her seat again. It is as much of an expression of her willingness to continue as words could be. She looks at Phoebe, only for confirmation that she will stay and <i>work on this</i> some more or refuse.
Phoebe
Avery's aren't the only brows to rise at the use of an honorific, but Phoebe doesn't tense to hear it, and she certainly doesn't draw attention to it. She does frown slightly when he refers to her by her first name only, making it plain again that his respect is for one person only in this room. The expression doesn't last, though.
She says, "If you're worried about keeping tempers in check I have something for that," as she pulls a chair closer and motions for Erich to do the same. She makes sure that they're facing each other squarely before she begins. It's not so much that she thinks they'll be here for ages, but that it takes slightly more thought to leap out of a chair than it does to spring at someone from a standing position. Also, it's relaxing to be seated rather than keep all those standing muscles tensed - and perhaps poised.
Once they're seated, Phoebe eases back a little, and she nods to Erich, letting him begin these new proceedings.
Avery
Whether they seat and face each other or remain standing does not matter much to her, and she does not ask either of them to do so, or even look at each other. Phoebe nods to Erich to begin, but the truth is: it is not up to Erich to begin, or continue, these proceedings. They have submitted to her judgement and at least one of them has requested her continued mediation. So: it is Avery who speaks next.
"I want to understand your problem with the judgement clearly," she says to Erich, "so I will repeat back to you how I see it. You think my verdicts on you are unfair, in part if not in whole. You think Siren of Persephone-rhya is 'getting off easy', to put it colloquially. You are concerned about how this will impact your standing in the septs. You do not think that you two have come to a full understanding of what the core issues are here."
There is a pause. "If I am correct, then I would like to hear you tell me -- clearly and succinctly -- what these core issues are, and what you want from Siren of Persephone-rhya. When I asked you before, you said, in essence, that you wanted her to give you the benefit of the doubt, which I have charged her with, and this does not satisfy you." There's another pause, a moment where it's possible to just barely see the ripple of tension under the surface in Avery. "If you are not satisfied, Storm's Teeth-yuf, then you must help me -- help all of us -- understand what it will take to satisfy you."
She turns then to Phoebe. "With you, Siren of Persephone-rhya, I am having some difficulty as well. Both during the warmoot and in our talks afterward, your main problem has seemed to be with disrespect -- I remember a particular comment about Storm's Teeth's behavior outside of his 'small friend group'. What group is this? What spurred you to make such a statement? As we have covered, none but you have accused Storm's Teeth-yuf of blatant or recurring disrespect, so I admit I am at a loss, and I need you to help me understand if we are to get anywhere genuine with this."
She breathes in deeply, settling back in her chair. "I also warn you both that should continued mediation prove fruitless, I will overturn my earlier ruling -- which I have not done yet, mind -- and initiate a simple challenge of dominance between you two. It will not solve your personal problems with one another, it will not create respect where there seems to be precious little, and it will not create unity in the septs, but it will end this skirmish. At least until the next time the two of you butt heads."
Her shoulders round down slightly. "Storm's Teeth," she says with a nod, ceding the floor to him.
Erich
Erich looks slightly wary as he is presented with a chair. Maybe this is some sort of mysterious Theurge ritual. Maybe the ouija boards are coming out! -- but no. It's just a chair. He is asked -- invited, even -- to sit. Nothing more or less.
So: he sits. At first, on the edge. Then he scoots his butt back, leans his elbows on his knees. Listens, furrow-browed, as Phoebe speaks. As Avery does. A flicker of a wince; then:
"It's not that I'm challenging your ruling or your wisdom, Reverence-rhya. You know I've got nothing but respect for you. And I know you passed judgment based on what you saw and what we said. It's just -- well, shit. How this all felt was, we got hot under the collar. You pulled us aside. We were still pretty hot under the collar, we yelled at each other some more, and then bam, judgment, done deal. I just never had a chance to calm down, look Pheebs -- sorry, Siren of Persephone-rhya -- in the eye, and. Y'know. <i>Talk.</i>
"Look -- " he turns abruptly to Phoebe, " -- here's what I did wrong. I got pissed off, and then I lost my temper, and then I called you names. That was pretty uncalled for and totally immature of me, and you deserve an apology for it. So: I'm sorry I called you names like a third grader. That was un-cool, I deserve to get dinged for it, I won't do it again, and when I figure out how I'll formally present a Rite of Contrition to you.
"On the flip side, here's what you did that pissed me off. I felt like we were in the middle of a really productive warmoot, and then you kinda just took offense and then interrupted everything to deal with it. That was not okay. That, right there, is what kinda started the snowballing GRR for me. And -- yeah. If you're going to apologize to me about anything at all, this would be the thing to apologize for. I kinda need you to acknowledge that the biggest not-kosher you pulled today was bringing this up in the first place in the middle of a warmoot. I'd like you to just flat-out say: hey, Erich? Sorry for dragging my personal issue with what you said out into the middle of a warmoot. That was un-cool, I deserve to get dinged for it, and I won't do it again.
"It'd also be nice if you'd tell the rest of your pack that jumping on that bandwagon was also uncool. 'Cause yeah, interrupting a warmoot to call me out like that wasn't quite challenging a leader in times of war? But -- with respect to Reverence-rhya here -- from my point of view it was on the road to that. And they need to know what they did wasn't okay, either.
"In the end, though, I'd like it if we could stand united at the next moot. Just to show everyone that we're cool again, and there aren't going to be lasting scars that weaken the Septs as a whole." Erich looks at Avery. "So, that's about as good as I can make it, in terms of how I see things and what I want from Siren-rhya.
"I've got just a bit more to say, though. Phoebe, now that I'm chilled out, can I see what you took offense to? Yeah. I said Avery, Javed and Eva are the most grown-up of all of us. But that doesn't automatically mean the rest of us are children. It's not a zero... zero-sum equation. Game. Whatever." Erich puts his head in his hands for a moment. Scrubs at his short hair. Raises his head again. "Look: if someone says something good about someone else, that doesn't automatically mean they're also saying something bad about you. That's not how it works. It's not like every compliment I pay to Avery, I had to rip away from you and now you're minus-one and she's plus-one. It's not like if I say 'Hey Phoebe, those are some of the coolest shoes I've ever seen," that means I also said 'Hey Avery, your shoes suck.' And honestly, Phoebe, I don't know why someone like you -- the Alpha of one of the larger packs in town, a Fostern, and by all appearance a successful Garou well on her way to greatness -- would be so ... so insecure, I guess, as to think that's how it worked.
"That's why I flat-out refused to apologize for offending you with what I originally said. And," glancing at Avery, "I guess that's why I'm also twisting a little under the original verdict you laid out.
"What I'm trying to get at here is: I know I went too far. I know I shouldn't have yelled at Siren of Persephone-rhya, and I know that was disrespect toward my elders. For that, I deserve a guilty verdict, I deserve to lose honor in the eyes of the Sept, and I deserve to be obligated to give formal apology in the form of a Rite of Contrition. But I'm protesting the 'guilty of talking thoughtlessly' verdict. And I'm protesting the 'next time you get a Rite of Jackdaw' punishment. I don't think either of those are fair.
"We have a law saying Thou Must Respecteth Thy Elders. Or whatever. We have a law saying Thou Shalt Not Challenge In Times of War. But I don't think we have a law saying Thou Must Speaketh Eloquently And It's All Your Fault If Someone Else Misunderstands You. It's common sense to try to speak clearly and not leave yourself open for these misunderstandings, and it'd sure as hell help avoid these meltdowns if I could do that, but it's not ... fair to demand it of me, or anyone. While you can bet your ass I'm going to do my best to not say <i>anything</i> that <i>anyone</i> finds offense again -- which is kinda what I do most the time anyway -- it's not fair to force that on me in the form of a guilty verdict and a punishment-in-waiting."
Phoebe
No, Phoebe is not carrying a Ouija board in her satchel. The Theurge has other ways of contacting the spirits of the gone-but-not-forgotten should they need to be contacted. This is just a way to relax, albeit a slight and subtle one.
As the one who called for additional mediation, Phoebe...well she doesn't <i>let</i> Erich go first, but neither does she attempt to go first nor does she attempt interrupt him. She sits back in her chair a little, her long slender arms resting on the arms of the chair. And she listens, first to Avery, then to Erich when he does speak, and gets everything he has to get off his broad chest, well, off it.
When he's finished, she nods once, and she's silent for several long moments after Avery's nod for her to take her chance to explain her side, her beef, as it were. Finally, she begins:
"Let me see if I can hit all the points. First, Reverence of Dawn-yuf, my comment about his small friend group. I have never spoken personally with Storm's Teeth before today. My sisters have never mentioned meeting him before. It seemed to me at the time he was speaking highly of people he already knows well."
She shifts then, gripping the her chair's arms a little tighter to leverage herself up enough to scoot her butt back, sitting up straighter. Folding her hands in her lap (where they completely fail to stay), she continues, "Another thing I would like to clarify. Both of you seem to be under the impression I had little or no respect for the serious nature of the moot. My pack's stated purpose is to see to the spiritual needs of the Denver area, which includes both Forgotten Questions and Cold Crescent's protectorates. This is my home. My family has suffered great losses at the hands of the Beloved Horror in their attempts to get at this place. Dealing with this problem <i>is</i> important to me, on more levels than, no offense, probably either of you can understand.
"You also aren't seeing what really offended me. That's my fault for mashing everything together, I know, but I'll try to clarify. You," she's looking at Erich now, "make it sound like I went on and on and on and on about my supposedly hurt feelings, when I meant what I said. I didn't think you were being deliberately disrespectful. I thought you were rude, and I was disappointed in your attempt at clarification because a few other people including me spoke up before that point. I was the one who suggested speaking to the Warder before sending a bunch of young wolves to run around blindly in Broadway's sub-sub-basement with who even knows what still down there, a suggestion you apparently saw enough merit in to build a team around. I don't care that you didn't pick me, and I don't want to go because it was my idea. I want to be present, at least, because I was the ranking Theurge in the room, and I'm Alpha of a pack whose very mission statement is protecting the Wylds and spirits of Denver, things that are surely corrupted <i>all</i> to hell down there.
"What I mean is, I didn't speak up because I felt my honor and my wisdom were deeply wounded, or even out of some deep-seated butthurt that kohai didn't notice me. I spoke up because I was surprised, and I dismissed it because it wasn't important enough to derail the moot any further. I realize now it looked like I was laughing at and being dismissive of you, personally, when again, that absolutely was not the case. Your first words were only a pebble that started a rock slide, and now that dust is settling, it's the rock slide that matters to me most.
"I think, and I could be wrong," she says, looking to Avery a moment, because it was her judgment, "Rite of the Jackdaw is your potential future punishment because of the words that came after. You announced to the room that 'Girls, you're all pretty,' line. <i>That</i> was offensive," she says, emphasizing 'that' with a slice of her hand. "<i>That</i> was disrespectful, not just to an elder but to every single person in that room, whether they stood up to say so or not. I don't know what if anything you know about my tribe, Storm's Teeth, but that statement was incredibly misogynistic and I don't believe there is a single one of us who would take it lightly. If you'd said that in front of someone of my tribe born under your moon she might not think twice about tearing out your throat. I don't say that to say, like...'Consider yourself lucky, Erich, Phoebe's not that aggressive!'" Phoebe says like it's an exaggerated cheer, hooking a thumbs up across her chest, "but to try and impress upon you <i>how bad that was</i>. Which I don't think I can do fully without getting lost in a feminist rant, but let me say that it was," she squints, nose scrunching a little, her head bobbing slightly side to side as she weighs something internally. Finally, she holds up her hand, keeping thumb and forefinger stretched as far apart as she can make them. "Thiiiiis much worse than if you'd outright called everyone a bunch of bone-headed nincompoops to each of their faces."
Setting back again, she tilts her forearms, opening her hands toward him. "All of that said, I should have taken you aside afterward to say 'not cool, bro,' not let my frayed patience get the better of me to try and snark a parting shot on my way out the door. I shouldn't have made things worse. I did you, the combined septs, my pack, and my rank a disservice today by dropping down to the level of a third-grader right along with you. I'm better than that, and I sincerely apologize for interrupting the moot."
Avery
For now, Avery is impassive. Even when she is directly spoken to, her expression is placid and she does not speak -- after all, the dispute here is ultimately not with her, but between Phoebe and Erich. Her hands remain still and her back straight. The most she intervenes, so far, is to turn her attention to one speaker, listen, then turn to the other with a nod to indicate that it is their turn to speak.
Which is what she does now, looking to Erich.
Erich
Erich's kinda squinched up his face, looking almost one-eyed at Phoebe for a while. "Okay," he says slowly, "honestly, that apology sounded ... almost a little backhanded for a bit there? But I'm just gonna give you the benefit of the doubt and trust that you were sincere and that line about sinking to my level was just ... y'know. Not having a speechwriter go over every word you say. And maybe you trying to be funny.
"Anyway. Okay. I get that you were pissed off because I called you names <i>and</i> because I said 'girls you're all pretty'. And -- I am sorry for getting rude, and I'll perform a proper Rite of Contrition for that when I figure out how. I appreciate the apology too. For the rest of it -- is there anything else you want? And how about you talking with your pack about maybe not jumping in with personal issues during a warmoot? And, standing united with my pack at the next moot? Are you cool with all that?
"As for the Jackdaw stuff -- that isn't really how I understood it, but really, I think Reverence-rhya's just gonna have to weigh in on that at some point. Maybe when we've got our end straightened out."
Phoebe
"I appreciate that," she says with a slight nod. "And I'll speak to my pack. As for the moot, we will stand together, united."
Then she looks to Reverence of Dawn, waiting for her to 'weigh in.'
Avery
They both speak at length, then less, then a little less, and Avery watches quietly through it all. She looks thoughtful, as she should, but in her case it isn't a mask to conceal some other emotion but an attempt to simply listen, to openly consider everything laid before her.
When they have both gone completely silent, she senses the tenor of the room and considers that, too. It is not where she would like it to be, but it is in a far, far better place than when she ordered everyone out of the room, with the two of them about to stare each other down, a frenzy not nearly far enough away on the horizon, and a ranked ahroun and two healers standing in wait just outside the room <i>just in case</i>. The rest is up to the two of them, really, and will only be seen in coming months, coming moots, coming battles, with the perspective that only time can bring, drawing you farther and farther from the moment until you can see it in its entirety.
She takes a breath, and she turns to Phoebe first. "Siren of Persephone-rhya, I appreciate the time you took to clarify what really angered you and your willingness to acknowledge where you failed. I believe speaking openly with your pack about your behavior and theirs is a fair request on Storm's Teeth-yuf's part, and I am glad to hear that you choose to do this without having it handed down as a judgement. I hope to sense in all of you at the next moot that this has been let go... or if not, can be looked at as a test of the bonds between us, and not the shattering of them. And I hope that -- should you see others display resentment or disrespect for Storm's Teeth-yuf and his pack because of today's conflict -- you will correct them, with wisdom and patience, to show that you stand together, and not at odds. But that," she says, "is only my hope."
Avery turns to Erich. "In a sense, you are both correct about the threat of a second punishment and rite, and I apologize: the lack of clarity was my failure. On the one hand, Siren of Persephone-rhya is correct: it was intended not to warn you against giving unintentional offense, but against being so uncontrolled when annoyed that you lose your temper and begin flinging insults. And perhaps the harshness of the threat is because I truly believe you have a nobler will than that. But on the other hand, you are right to protest: it is unfair. It is true that you cannot be held solely culpable for the way your words are perceived, but that is not what tips the scales of fairness.
"You are to give the Rite of Contrition for your disrespect. You <i>were</i> to be warned and held under threat of the Rite of the Jackdaw for the same thing. And you cannot be given two verdicts and two sentences for the same offense, which -- as we now understand it -- is the case. I apologize."
Her head nods between the two of them. "Storm's Teeth-yuf and Siren of Persephone-rhya, in the end, you are both expected to leave here today doing what is in your power to heal any true or perceived rift between the two of you and your packs. With apologies, with corrections and teachings to those beneath you, with visible unity, with -- as I said is my hope -- even standing up for each other when you can. You do this not simply to accept guilt but to strengthen the nation, and that is how I will speak of it in my own days. The two of you stumbled, and the two of you will lift each other up, and all who witness will feel the power in that. I hope, truly and with all my heart, that you can each try to see it that way, as I do."
This time, there is a very long pause. "Phoebe, Erich is a bit of a handyman. He built his own house, I have heard. Erich, Phoebe is apparently quite skilled in pottery." She gives a small one-shouldered shrug and a small smile. "Perhaps the two of you could 'talk shop',"
says the woman who probably doesn't know the first thing about woodwork, home-building, or pottery. It's mostly all the same sort of thing, right? Of course it is.
Erich
Erich is sort of blank for a second. Then inspiration strikes: "Do you know how to make roof tiles? I mean, I know that's probably more artisan than artist and probably beneath you, but ... our tinyhouse has a steel roof and it is <i>so loud</i> when it rains. If you know how to make them, maybe you can teach me when we get together for dinner.
"And don't worry," this is sort of to both of them, "I'll do a proper Rite of Contrition. And I won't let anyone talk shit about you. And at the next moot or warmoot, we'll stand together like we should." He sticks his hand out to shake.
"For what it's worth," he adds, "I'm glad we sat down and talked instead of glaring at each other until someone blinked. Which would have resolved nothing and proved nothing in the end, except maybe whose eyeballs are more dry-resistant.
"Anyway." Handshake over, he offers that same hand to Avery. "Thanks, Reverence-rhya. You really made a difference today. I appreciate it."
Phoebe
Phoebe is already angling her torso up and sliding forward, arm outstretched with hand reaching toward the Ahroun when Avery suggests they somehow 'talk shop.' But he built his own house and of course Phoebe isn't think it's small and able to be pulled by a powerful engine. "My father is a carpenter, I can't imagine that was an easy feat," she says, smiling. "I'll see what I can do, but, unfortunately that'll have to be a separate visit. My workshop is beneath my gallery, but you're welcome to stop by any time." Her smile turns apologetic. "Even I have to stay away."
He takes her hand and they shake on things, sealing, well, more personally sealing what's been talked about today. Her smile is warm when she says, "My pack and I will stand with you and yours whenever you need us. Thanksgiving's too far away for a first meal, but maybe we can all get together near Halloween."
And, because Avery only has so many hands to offer for a closing shake, Phoebe waits for Erich to finish before offering her own to the Philodox. "Thank you, Reverence of Dawn-yuf."
She'll of course exchange her personal contact information with either or both Cliaths, cell phone as well as the address of her gallery on Santa Fe.
Avery
Phoebe's confusion, and her voicing of rueful apology to Erich, meets only an impassive expression on Avery's. She stands with her hands folded, without reaction to the extension of an offer of dinner between Erich and the pack. After the fostern speaks, she turns to Erich, and he
calls her <i>Rhya</i>, making her eyebrows flicker upward, and she tenses slightly, a faint straightening of her spine and squaring of her shoulders. As he speaks, her frame relaxes, but her head tips to the side.
When he is done, she unfolds her hands, steps back, and lowers herself into her seat again. It is as much of an expression of her willingness to continue as words could be. She looks at Phoebe, only for confirmation that she will stay and <i>work on this</i> some more or refuse.
Phoebe
Avery's aren't the only brows to rise at the use of an honorific, but Phoebe doesn't tense to hear it, and she certainly doesn't draw attention to it. She does frown slightly when he refers to her by her first name only, making it plain again that his respect is for one person only in this room. The expression doesn't last, though.
She says, "If you're worried about keeping tempers in check I have something for that," as she pulls a chair closer and motions for Erich to do the same. She makes sure that they're facing each other squarely before she begins. It's not so much that she thinks they'll be here for ages, but that it takes slightly more thought to leap out of a chair than it does to spring at someone from a standing position. Also, it's relaxing to be seated rather than keep all those standing muscles tensed - and perhaps poised.
Once they're seated, Phoebe eases back a little, and she nods to Erich, letting him begin these new proceedings.
Avery
Whether they seat and face each other or remain standing does not matter much to her, and she does not ask either of them to do so, or even look at each other. Phoebe nods to Erich to begin, but the truth is: it is not up to Erich to begin, or continue, these proceedings. They have submitted to her judgement and at least one of them has requested her continued mediation. So: it is Avery who speaks next.
"I want to understand your problem with the judgement clearly," she says to Erich, "so I will repeat back to you how I see it. You think my verdicts on you are unfair, in part if not in whole. You think Siren of Persephone-rhya is 'getting off easy', to put it colloquially. You are concerned about how this will impact your standing in the septs. You do not think that you two have come to a full understanding of what the core issues are here."
There is a pause. "If I am correct, then I would like to hear you tell me -- clearly and succinctly -- what these core issues are, and what you want from Siren of Persephone-rhya. When I asked you before, you said, in essence, that you wanted her to give you the benefit of the doubt, which I have charged her with, and this does not satisfy you." There's another pause, a moment where it's possible to just barely see the ripple of tension under the surface in Avery. "If you are not satisfied, Storm's Teeth-yuf, then you must help me -- help all of us -- understand what it will take to satisfy you."
She turns then to Phoebe. "With you, Siren of Persephone-rhya, I am having some difficulty as well. Both during the warmoot and in our talks afterward, your main problem has seemed to be with disrespect -- I remember a particular comment about Storm's Teeth's behavior outside of his 'small friend group'. What group is this? What spurred you to make such a statement? As we have covered, none but you have accused Storm's Teeth-yuf of blatant or recurring disrespect, so I admit I am at a loss, and I need you to help me understand if we are to get anywhere genuine with this."
She breathes in deeply, settling back in her chair. "I also warn you both that should continued mediation prove fruitless, I will overturn my earlier ruling -- which I have not done yet, mind -- and initiate a simple challenge of dominance between you two. It will not solve your personal problems with one another, it will not create respect where there seems to be precious little, and it will not create unity in the septs, but it will end this skirmish. At least until the next time the two of you butt heads."
Her shoulders round down slightly. "Storm's Teeth," she says with a nod, ceding the floor to him.
Erich
Erich looks slightly wary as he is presented with a chair. Maybe this is some sort of mysterious Theurge ritual. Maybe the ouija boards are coming out! -- but no. It's just a chair. He is asked -- invited, even -- to sit. Nothing more or less.
So: he sits. At first, on the edge. Then he scoots his butt back, leans his elbows on his knees. Listens, furrow-browed, as Phoebe speaks. As Avery does. A flicker of a wince; then:
"It's not that I'm challenging your ruling or your wisdom, Reverence-rhya. You know I've got nothing but respect for you. And I know you passed judgment based on what you saw and what we said. It's just -- well, shit. How this all felt was, we got hot under the collar. You pulled us aside. We were still pretty hot under the collar, we yelled at each other some more, and then bam, judgment, done deal. I just never had a chance to calm down, look Pheebs -- sorry, Siren of Persephone-rhya -- in the eye, and. Y'know. <i>Talk.</i>
"Look -- " he turns abruptly to Phoebe, " -- here's what I did wrong. I got pissed off, and then I lost my temper, and then I called you names. That was pretty uncalled for and totally immature of me, and you deserve an apology for it. So: I'm sorry I called you names like a third grader. That was un-cool, I deserve to get dinged for it, I won't do it again, and when I figure out how I'll formally present a Rite of Contrition to you.
"On the flip side, here's what you did that pissed me off. I felt like we were in the middle of a really productive warmoot, and then you kinda just took offense and then interrupted everything to deal with it. That was not okay. That, right there, is what kinda started the snowballing GRR for me. And -- yeah. If you're going to apologize to me about anything at all, this would be the thing to apologize for. I kinda need you to acknowledge that the biggest not-kosher you pulled today was bringing this up in the first place in the middle of a warmoot. I'd like you to just flat-out say: hey, Erich? Sorry for dragging my personal issue with what you said out into the middle of a warmoot. That was un-cool, I deserve to get dinged for it, and I won't do it again.
"It'd also be nice if you'd tell the rest of your pack that jumping on that bandwagon was also uncool. 'Cause yeah, interrupting a warmoot to call me out like that wasn't quite challenging a leader in times of war? But -- with respect to Reverence-rhya here -- from my point of view it was on the road to that. And they need to know what they did wasn't okay, either.
"In the end, though, I'd like it if we could stand united at the next moot. Just to show everyone that we're cool again, and there aren't going to be lasting scars that weaken the Septs as a whole." Erich looks at Avery. "So, that's about as good as I can make it, in terms of how I see things and what I want from Siren-rhya.
"I've got just a bit more to say, though. Phoebe, now that I'm chilled out, can I see what you took offense to? Yeah. I said Avery, Javed and Eva are the most grown-up of all of us. But that doesn't automatically mean the rest of us are children. It's not a zero... zero-sum equation. Game. Whatever." Erich puts his head in his hands for a moment. Scrubs at his short hair. Raises his head again. "Look: if someone says something good about someone else, that doesn't automatically mean they're also saying something bad about you. That's not how it works. It's not like every compliment I pay to Avery, I had to rip away from you and now you're minus-one and she's plus-one. It's not like if I say 'Hey Phoebe, those are some of the coolest shoes I've ever seen," that means I also said 'Hey Avery, your shoes suck.' And honestly, Phoebe, I don't know why someone like you -- the Alpha of one of the larger packs in town, a Fostern, and by all appearance a successful Garou well on her way to greatness -- would be so ... so insecure, I guess, as to think that's how it worked.
"That's why I flat-out refused to apologize for offending you with what I originally said. And," glancing at Avery, "I guess that's why I'm also twisting a little under the original verdict you laid out.
"What I'm trying to get at here is: I know I went too far. I know I shouldn't have yelled at Siren of Persephone-rhya, and I know that was disrespect toward my elders. For that, I deserve a guilty verdict, I deserve to lose honor in the eyes of the Sept, and I deserve to be obligated to give formal apology in the form of a Rite of Contrition. But I'm protesting the 'guilty of talking thoughtlessly' verdict. And I'm protesting the 'next time you get a Rite of Jackdaw' punishment. I don't think either of those are fair.
"We have a law saying Thou Must Respecteth Thy Elders. Or whatever. We have a law saying Thou Shalt Not Challenge In Times of War. But I don't think we have a law saying Thou Must Speaketh Eloquently And It's All Your Fault If Someone Else Misunderstands You. It's common sense to try to speak clearly and not leave yourself open for these misunderstandings, and it'd sure as hell help avoid these meltdowns if I could do that, but it's not ... fair to demand it of me, or anyone. While you can bet your ass I'm going to do my best to not say <i>anything</i> that <i>anyone</i> finds offense again -- which is kinda what I do most the time anyway -- it's not fair to force that on me in the form of a guilty verdict and a punishment-in-waiting."
Phoebe
No, Phoebe is not carrying a Ouija board in her satchel. The Theurge has other ways of contacting the spirits of the gone-but-not-forgotten should they need to be contacted. This is just a way to relax, albeit a slight and subtle one.
As the one who called for additional mediation, Phoebe...well she doesn't <i>let</i> Erich go first, but neither does she attempt to go first nor does she attempt interrupt him. She sits back in her chair a little, her long slender arms resting on the arms of the chair. And she listens, first to Avery, then to Erich when he does speak, and gets everything he has to get off his broad chest, well, off it.
When he's finished, she nods once, and she's silent for several long moments after Avery's nod for her to take her chance to explain her side, her beef, as it were. Finally, she begins:
"Let me see if I can hit all the points. First, Reverence of Dawn-yuf, my comment about his small friend group. I have never spoken personally with Storm's Teeth before today. My sisters have never mentioned meeting him before. It seemed to me at the time he was speaking highly of people he already knows well."
She shifts then, gripping the her chair's arms a little tighter to leverage herself up enough to scoot her butt back, sitting up straighter. Folding her hands in her lap (where they completely fail to stay), she continues, "Another thing I would like to clarify. Both of you seem to be under the impression I had little or no respect for the serious nature of the moot. My pack's stated purpose is to see to the spiritual needs of the Denver area, which includes both Forgotten Questions and Cold Crescent's protectorates. This is my home. My family has suffered great losses at the hands of the Beloved Horror in their attempts to get at this place. Dealing with this problem <i>is</i> important to me, on more levels than, no offense, probably either of you can understand.
"You also aren't seeing what really offended me. That's my fault for mashing everything together, I know, but I'll try to clarify. You," she's looking at Erich now, "make it sound like I went on and on and on and on about my supposedly hurt feelings, when I meant what I said. I didn't think you were being deliberately disrespectful. I thought you were rude, and I was disappointed in your attempt at clarification because a few other people including me spoke up before that point. I was the one who suggested speaking to the Warder before sending a bunch of young wolves to run around blindly in Broadway's sub-sub-basement with who even knows what still down there, a suggestion you apparently saw enough merit in to build a team around. I don't care that you didn't pick me, and I don't want to go because it was my idea. I want to be present, at least, because I was the ranking Theurge in the room, and I'm Alpha of a pack whose very mission statement is protecting the Wylds and spirits of Denver, things that are surely corrupted <i>all</i> to hell down there.
"What I mean is, I didn't speak up because I felt my honor and my wisdom were deeply wounded, or even out of some deep-seated butthurt that kohai didn't notice me. I spoke up because I was surprised, and I dismissed it because it wasn't important enough to derail the moot any further. I realize now it looked like I was laughing at and being dismissive of you, personally, when again, that absolutely was not the case. Your first words were only a pebble that started a rock slide, and now that dust is settling, it's the rock slide that matters to me most.
"I think, and I could be wrong," she says, looking to Avery a moment, because it was her judgment, "Rite of the Jackdaw is your potential future punishment because of the words that came after. You announced to the room that 'Girls, you're all pretty,' line. <i>That</i> was offensive," she says, emphasizing 'that' with a slice of her hand. "<i>That</i> was disrespectful, not just to an elder but to every single person in that room, whether they stood up to say so or not. I don't know what if anything you know about my tribe, Storm's Teeth, but that statement was incredibly misogynistic and I don't believe there is a single one of us who would take it lightly. If you'd said that in front of someone of my tribe born under your moon she might not think twice about tearing out your throat. I don't say that to say, like...'Consider yourself lucky, Erich, Phoebe's not that aggressive!'" Phoebe says like it's an exaggerated cheer, hooking a thumbs up across her chest, "but to try and impress upon you <i>how bad that was</i>. Which I don't think I can do fully without getting lost in a feminist rant, but let me say that it was," she squints, nose scrunching a little, her head bobbing slightly side to side as she weighs something internally. Finally, she holds up her hand, keeping thumb and forefinger stretched as far apart as she can make them. "Thiiiiis much worse than if you'd outright called everyone a bunch of bone-headed nincompoops to each of their faces."
Setting back again, she tilts her forearms, opening her hands toward him. "All of that said, I should have taken you aside afterward to say 'not cool, bro,' not let my frayed patience get the better of me to try and snark a parting shot on my way out the door. I shouldn't have made things worse. I did you, the combined septs, my pack, and my rank a disservice today by dropping down to the level of a third-grader right along with you. I'm better than that, and I sincerely apologize for interrupting the moot."
Avery
For now, Avery is impassive. Even when she is directly spoken to, her expression is placid and she does not speak -- after all, the dispute here is ultimately not with her, but between Phoebe and Erich. Her hands remain still and her back straight. The most she intervenes, so far, is to turn her attention to one speaker, listen, then turn to the other with a nod to indicate that it is their turn to speak.
Which is what she does now, looking to Erich.
Erich
Erich's kinda squinched up his face, looking almost one-eyed at Phoebe for a while. "Okay," he says slowly, "honestly, that apology sounded ... almost a little backhanded for a bit there? But I'm just gonna give you the benefit of the doubt and trust that you were sincere and that line about sinking to my level was just ... y'know. Not having a speechwriter go over every word you say. And maybe you trying to be funny.
"Anyway. Okay. I get that you were pissed off because I called you names <i>and</i> because I said 'girls you're all pretty'. And -- I am sorry for getting rude, and I'll perform a proper Rite of Contrition for that when I figure out how. I appreciate the apology too. For the rest of it -- is there anything else you want? And how about you talking with your pack about maybe not jumping in with personal issues during a warmoot? And, standing united with my pack at the next moot? Are you cool with all that?
"As for the Jackdaw stuff -- that isn't really how I understood it, but really, I think Reverence-rhya's just gonna have to weigh in on that at some point. Maybe when we've got our end straightened out."
Phoebe
"I appreciate that," she says with a slight nod. "And I'll speak to my pack. As for the moot, we will stand together, united."
Then she looks to Reverence of Dawn, waiting for her to 'weigh in.'
Avery
They both speak at length, then less, then a little less, and Avery watches quietly through it all. She looks thoughtful, as she should, but in her case it isn't a mask to conceal some other emotion but an attempt to simply listen, to openly consider everything laid before her.
When they have both gone completely silent, she senses the tenor of the room and considers that, too. It is not where she would like it to be, but it is in a far, far better place than when she ordered everyone out of the room, with the two of them about to stare each other down, a frenzy not nearly far enough away on the horizon, and a ranked ahroun and two healers standing in wait just outside the room <i>just in case</i>. The rest is up to the two of them, really, and will only be seen in coming months, coming moots, coming battles, with the perspective that only time can bring, drawing you farther and farther from the moment until you can see it in its entirety.
She takes a breath, and she turns to Phoebe first. "Siren of Persephone-rhya, I appreciate the time you took to clarify what really angered you and your willingness to acknowledge where you failed. I believe speaking openly with your pack about your behavior and theirs is a fair request on Storm's Teeth-yuf's part, and I am glad to hear that you choose to do this without having it handed down as a judgement. I hope to sense in all of you at the next moot that this has been let go... or if not, can be looked at as a test of the bonds between us, and not the shattering of them. And I hope that -- should you see others display resentment or disrespect for Storm's Teeth-yuf and his pack because of today's conflict -- you will correct them, with wisdom and patience, to show that you stand together, and not at odds. But that," she says, "is only my hope."
Avery turns to Erich. "In a sense, you are both correct about the threat of a second punishment and rite, and I apologize: the lack of clarity was my failure. On the one hand, Siren of Persephone-rhya is correct: it was intended not to warn you against giving unintentional offense, but against being so uncontrolled when annoyed that you lose your temper and begin flinging insults. And perhaps the harshness of the threat is because I truly believe you have a nobler will than that. But on the other hand, you are right to protest: it is unfair. It is true that you cannot be held solely culpable for the way your words are perceived, but that is not what tips the scales of fairness.
"You are to give the Rite of Contrition for your disrespect. You <i>were</i> to be warned and held under threat of the Rite of the Jackdaw for the same thing. And you cannot be given two verdicts and two sentences for the same offense, which -- as we now understand it -- is the case. I apologize."
Her head nods between the two of them. "Storm's Teeth-yuf and Siren of Persephone-rhya, in the end, you are both expected to leave here today doing what is in your power to heal any true or perceived rift between the two of you and your packs. With apologies, with corrections and teachings to those beneath you, with visible unity, with -- as I said is my hope -- even standing up for each other when you can. You do this not simply to accept guilt but to strengthen the nation, and that is how I will speak of it in my own days. The two of you stumbled, and the two of you will lift each other up, and all who witness will feel the power in that. I hope, truly and with all my heart, that you can each try to see it that way, as I do."
This time, there is a very long pause. "Phoebe, Erich is a bit of a handyman. He built his own house, I have heard. Erich, Phoebe is apparently quite skilled in pottery." She gives a small one-shouldered shrug and a small smile. "Perhaps the two of you could 'talk shop',"
says the woman who probably doesn't know the first thing about woodwork, home-building, or pottery. It's mostly all the same sort of thing, right? Of course it is.
Erich
Erich is sort of blank for a second. Then inspiration strikes: "Do you know how to make roof tiles? I mean, I know that's probably more artisan than artist and probably beneath you, but ... our tinyhouse has a steel roof and it is <i>so loud</i> when it rains. If you know how to make them, maybe you can teach me when we get together for dinner.
"And don't worry," this is sort of to both of them, "I'll do a proper Rite of Contrition. And I won't let anyone talk shit about you. And at the next moot or warmoot, we'll stand together like we should." He sticks his hand out to shake.
"For what it's worth," he adds, "I'm glad we sat down and talked instead of glaring at each other until someone blinked. Which would have resolved nothing and proved nothing in the end, except maybe whose eyeballs are more dry-resistant.
"Anyway." Handshake over, he offers that same hand to Avery. "Thanks, Reverence-rhya. You really made a difference today. I appreciate it."
Phoebe
Phoebe is already angling her torso up and sliding forward, arm outstretched with hand reaching toward the Ahroun when Avery suggests they somehow 'talk shop.' But he built his own house and of course Phoebe isn't think it's small and able to be pulled by a powerful engine. "My father is a carpenter, I can't imagine that was an easy feat," she says, smiling. "I'll see what I can do, but, unfortunately that'll have to be a separate visit. My workshop is beneath my gallery, but you're welcome to stop by any time." Her smile turns apologetic. "Even I have to stay away."
He takes her hand and they shake on things, sealing, well, more personally sealing what's been talked about today. Her smile is warm when she says, "My pack and I will stand with you and yours whenever you need us. Thanksgiving's too far away for a first meal, but maybe we can all get together near Halloween."
And, because Avery only has so many hands to offer for a closing shake, Phoebe waits for Erich to finish before offering her own to the Philodox. "Thank you, Reverence of Dawn-yuf."
She'll of course exchange her personal contact information with either or both Cliaths, cell phone as well as the address of her gallery on Santa Fe.
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