Log:Whispers in the Shadow

Log:Whispers in the Shadow
Something clever.
Players Ethan, Erina, Colt as ST	August 6, 2022 Ethan and Erina make a deal with a Crow spirit for information.
Talking to a spirit isn't exactly the *wisest* idea on the best of days. The spirits are fickle and finicky, and some of them have long memories, back to the time of Father Wolf -- or so they claim. There's almost no possibility they are truly that old, given the way the nature of the world changes, short of the seas and mountain ranges that care not one whit for the petty dealings of the scurrying things on the surface. But that's where Ethan and Erina find themselves today. In a park a short distance from the shop, one where they saw crows gathering to pick at the discarded leavings of human existence. A few of the bird-spirits in the trees are eyeing the duo, waiting to see what the predators are doing there -- and possibly what they'll do next. Ethan stops some distance from the tree, just to show he's not here to eat any crow spirits today. It might not be the wisest thing, but out of all of their unwise options, it seemed to be the one most likely to shake out a good, solid next step. The thing is he's pretty conscious he's on the trail of a prosecutor's secrets, and what he's not trying to do is spend the rest of his werewolf career trying to manage the spirit world in a prison. Though he supposes, if it came to that, they'd have a legal dream team courtesy of Lucius Shaw. Maybe. Lucius might just leave them to rot, too. He glances at Erina; then pulls out the shiny brass antique key that they decided they would provide as offering. "Wise crow spirits, we seek a moment of your time. Would you be willing to speak with us?" A glance at Erina. On their way here he'd admitted he hasn't done a lot of direct dealing with the spirits, himself. But Colt, who usually does this for him, *definitely* can't be drawn into another encounter with the ASA. Erina glances back at Ethan, at the key, then the crow spirit. She doesn't usually deal with this kind of thing, either. Well, she hasn't yet, anyway. She's done a whole lot of hanging back and watching what happens when other people do, but for herself? Not much. Mostly, right now, she's trying to seem non-threatening, which is funny given that her usual schtick is trying to make herself seem bigger. Plus, she doesn't want to count on the legal team of someone who only just hired her, especially when she's not entirely sure they know she's People. None of the spirits seem particularly *eager* to talk to a pair of Uratha, of course. Even with their numbers it would be difficult for them to put up a feasible defense against Ethan OR Erina, much less both of them working in tandem. It takes some time before one of the smaller spirits flies out of the tree, landing some distance away. It form starts to shift as it takes a few furtive steps closer, taking on shape much more similar to that of a man, anthropomorphic with jet black skin and feathers decorating it in places that would likely distinguish it from its comrades, were they in a similar position. The thing seems skittish, still. But it's looking at the key. "What trickeries do the wolf-children bring with them today?" it asks. "Oh. Whoa. You look great dude," Ethan says, forgetting himself in a moment of genuine friendly startlement. Look, when he eats spirits he prefers the ones that are either things he'd normally eat, like deer or bears or something, or things that are weird and shouldn't be existing in the first place, or things that are nasty and make him mad. Skittish crow spirits are not really on the menu given his givens. And so he treats the crow like a person, and so when he lets down his guard for five whole seconds it's 'you look great dude.' There's reasons Luna did not make him an Ilthaeur. "We brought a gift," he adds. "And we don't mean you any harm, I promise. I'm Ethan Moon Moon, Cahalith of the Storm Lord tribe." He leaves room for Erina to make her own introductions, but he shoots the crow what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Erina watches the spirit shift with some interest, and a lot of curiosity. She's watched some spirits do some things, but this one is making her temporarily dream of flying. Even if she usually prefers running. "I'm Erina Many Tongues, Elodoth of the Iron Masters tribe. I don't mean you any harm, either." Her voice is quiet but seems sure. She shakes her head a bit, afterwards, as if to say that Ethan best not make any jokes with his deed name. The spirit watches them curiously as the introductions are made, the old formalities being respected. It makes its own introduction in turn. "I am called Whispers-in-the-Ears-of-Allies." A glance at the key again. "What do you seek, wolf-children?" it asks warily. "And what do you offer in turn?" The other bird spirits are now not just watching Ethan and Erina warily -- they're watching Whispers warily too. The politics of spirit pecking orders might not be something that either wolf specializes it, but it's clear that Whispers is either breaking ranks, or going against the grain, and that the other birds are growing anxious because of it." "Well met, Whispers-in-the-Ears-of-Allies. We bring the gift of this key, a symbol of old secrets, that we may convey our appreciation for you and yours." Ethan pauses, and clears his throat. "If the gift is inadequate it is only ignorance, not lack of respect. We haven't been at this very long. If we could have brought a better, please correct us, so that in the future our gifts will be more pleasing. We seek, well...whispers. Information. About two women, and a shop that is not far from here." He names the address of the shop, though admittedly, he's not...100 sure the address is the right marker to use for spirits. "In a strip mall next to a 7-11 over yonder," he says, gesturing over yonder. He's not real sure that 7-11 landmark is the right marker to use, either. Erina appears to be paying attention to Whispers-in-the-Ears-of-Allies. But she's watching the other spirits out of the corner of her eye because that behavior is curious to her. Right now, she's content to let Ethan speak, since she's not sure he's wrong. She does raise an eyebrow at the use of the word 'yonder', but that only gets a slight smile from her, just barely touching the corners of her mouth. The crow-spirit continues glancing at the key furtively, but makes no move toward it just yet. There are, after all, older laws and traditions that keep him in check. "You seek to buy information," Whispers repeats back, ensuring that both parties understand the nature of the bargain being made. "About the *yagjongsang*." He lifts his chin up, a measure of pride in that look, showing off that he *knows things* about what Ethan speaks. His chest even puffs out a little bit, though he stops short of strutting. "Ask your questions, wolf-children," he starts, "and we shall see if the price you offer merits the answer you seek." There's a whisper starting among the trees now, the bird spirits chittering back and forth to one another in a susurrus of First Tongue. This entire exchange is making them deeply unhappy. Or uneasy. Or both. The tension growing in the air is practically palpable. Ethan glances briefly at the unhappy crow spirits, his hackles rising a little. A glance at Erina, and a slight wince of worry, but he gets on with the questions. Might as well get as many as the other crows will let them get away with. He tries to phrase these carefully, knowing that certain turns of words could lead them with answers that are less than useless *and* a debt yet to pay. "What is the nature of the *yagjongsang?*" He works hard to pronounce that word just as Whispers did. "What is the nature of the spirit that guards her shop?" A pause. "What was the intention behind the duck-on-a-stick that was watching my truck in the real world? What is the nature of ASA Alicia Monrose, who seems to hold Ae-cha Seonbae in such high regard? What is the purpose of the Glyphs carved outside the shop so very furiously?" This time his glance at Erina is just to see if she's thought of any questions he hasn't. "Why is Alicia Monrose acting so strangely?" asks Erina, after she hears the full list of questions that Ethan has. After all, it's what started this whole thing, why not ask the obvious? She offers a small smile at Ethan, afterwards, for giving her that offer of asking. "And if our offering is not enough for these questions, what offering *would* be?" Whispers looks almost taken aback at the stream of questions, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "All of that you seek," he starts, "and yet you offer a single key to something unknown?" He gives a shake of his head. "You ask far too much for the thing you bring to barter." He looks practically insulted, but doesn't take more than a step or two back, glancing over his shoulder at the other bird-spirits in the trees, contemplating. "The yagjongsang is a *yagjongsang*, foolish wolf-child. What else could it be?" Whispers shakes his head, then glances to Erina like she might have lost her mind. "All humans act strangely. Killing what need not be killed, using what need not be used, tossing away what can be saved. Giving away secrets." He takes another step back, laughter from the treeline now -- apparently someone back there is finding this amusing, even though Whispers looks torn between bolting back and staying his ground. Ethan holds up his hands, wincing. Okay, note to self, one gift per question next time. It's a learning experience if nothing else. "I humbly beg your pardon, Whispers-in-the-Ears-of-Allies, for this faux pas," he says. He sifts through, at least the mood has changed to humor. Humor isn't the worst thing. Humor isn't spirits who are bolting or who are attacking or who are going to get something bigger to eat them. He eliminates the *yagjongsang* question; they can look up that word later. The duck...probably not that important. Or possibly very important. But it really could have been just some rando thing to warn him off, too. The glyphs...mmm. He can always have Erina try to read them later, as she's better with languages and might be able to make heads or tails out of the furious handwriting. That ancient, dangerous-feeling spirit, now... "How about you just tell us about that spirit she's got hanging out at the shop," Ethan suggests. "The one that feels so old and disciplined?" Ask a spirit about the spirit, that seems logical, right? Erina looks annoyed. "Oh. He's jerking us around," says Erina, sotto voce. She looks up 'yagjongsang' on her phone, because why not, and the second Google hit, she says, "A yagjongsang is an apothecary, Ethan." Then she looks back at the spirit. "You didn't tell us what you would consider a suitable offering, don't think I missed that." She's clearly fine with playing bad cop. Whispers turns to Ethan first, giving a small nod of satisfaction as the wolf reins in some of his questions. "A more equi--" But the spirit turns to Erina, then, its features practically turning to stone in outright disapproval. If it looked insulted before, it looks ten times moreso now. "You came seeking *favor*, Daughter of Luna's Half-Hidden Face," he answers with that air of put-upon patience. Spirits normally aren't *this* patient, but he keeps giving furtive glances back toward the treeline -- perhaps, given the general commotion there, he has as much to lose if this falls through as the wolves do. "One does not demand a price when seeking favor. They offer a payment they believe to be of equal value to the thing they are seeking. As a show of respect to the one they seek favor from." The spirits mouth presses tightly. "But in the spirit of -- cooperation," he suggests, "perhaps you would be willing to offer a secret for a secret? Something of value? And then I can determine what that information is worth in exchange?" It seems that this spirit has no small degree of pride -- but also isn't stupid enough to walk away from something potentially lucrative over a few missteps, unlike some of his brethren. The noise in the trees is growing louder, and the rustling sounds suggest no small degree of agitation. The Daughter of Luna's Half-Hidden Face has been offered an inroad into a negotiation, and Ethan steps back with a bow to let her do it. For one thing, maybe that will give him a moment to listen to the chatter in the trees. And to maybe think on if *he* has a secret worth offering, that he can give without causing harm to someone, if Erina does not, or can't work out a better bargain. Calming the angry masses back there seems like it might be worthwhile, if he can work out a way to do it. And it will give the mediator a moment to...well...to mediate. Erina considers the spirit and then says, "You're right, Whispers-in-the-Ears-of-Allies. I overstepped. I'm sorry. I willingly offer you a secret for your own, but only one I have the right to share. I cannot offer someone else's secret. May I respectfully suggest we take a few steps away so that I can give you one? I promise you, no harm will come to you from me during these few minutes. Or during this meeting." She looks embarrassed, she didn't actually mean to make things worse, but if telling him something she can tell will fix it? She can do that, too. The stony expression on Whispers face melts away as the werewolves seem to go back to where they were before, eyes brightening. "A minor thing, not worthy of remembering," he assures the pair in that all-is-forgiven-and-right-with-the-world voice. This spirit is easier to appease than some others, at least. He gives Erina a nod. "So offered, and accepted," he agrees. "Your word is trusted as binding, Half-Moon Daughter." He takes a few steps away from Ethan, giving Erina a chance to follow and state what's on her mind out of earshot for the other wolf. Which gives Ethan the eavesdropping opportunity that he wants, as well. Picking up on what's being said is a touch more complicated than it might otherwise seem, given the sheer number of conversations seemingly happening at once. But the central tenet of the messages is largely the same -- it seems that Whispers is doing something the others consider reckless, dangerous -- even treasonous, in treating with the wolves, which they see as little better than sworn enemies, even if they *do* come abiding by the old laws. There's clearly a history there. And enough bad blood that there's a very real chance more could spill in the near future, if the crowd in the trees get their hackles up much higher. Even if Ethan weren't worried about bloodshed, it doesn't sit right with him to leave relations...quite this bad. So he actually wanders away from Erina and Whispers a little bit, trusting that the deal will be done here. Instead he finds a bench to sit on near the crows, sort of perpindicular to them. In a way that suggests no threat. Not even looking at them. But he projects his voice to reach the seats in the back, so to speak. "This story is true," he begins, and pauses to see if he has captured the attention of the crowd, if he's got them even a little intrigued. He doesn't expect to heal an entire blood feud with one dadgum yarn, but maybe he can ease tensions *today*, and maybe he can leave them with a little better taste in their mouths so that they deal more happily with *his* pack, at least. Or at least stall and entertain them long enough to ensure that a fight doesn't break out. Erina follows the spirit in question, until he stops. When he does, she leans in, hands behind her back, and whispers something to him. It takes a little while, involves a few suppressed chuckles, and when she's done, she leans back and raises her eyebrows in question. Was that enough? The chorus in the trees quiets ever so slightly as Ethan announces those words. The ones that always mean that a story is coming, one probably worthy of listening too when spun by a Son of the Pregnant Moon, ready to give birth to whatever fascinating wonders of words come associated with the blessings of that auspice. There is still tension and agitation -- but now a small amount of distraction as well. Whispers, though, leans in, accepting the whisper back from Erina. His brows raise as he considers what she whispers, black eyes widening a bit as he gives a slow nod, the smile on his face broadening. "I see," he considers, looking to Erina. "A worthy offering indeed," he answers, considering his answers in turn. Leaning back in, he whispers carefully: "The guardian spirit is old and powerful, and dedicated to guarding the family of that bloodline since their days across the shining sea, brought here as part of its continuing duty. If attacked, it will fight -- but the family has forgotten the proper rites and forms of address. The spirit is poorly rewarded for its service, though continues its service so long as it is compensated at all. It will fight -- but is unlikely to do so *enthusiastically*..." Ethan feels a stab of excitement. He *loves* his auspice and his job, and he starts his yarn. "Back in the 70s, out in the Achafalaya basin," he says, "there lived a Storm Lord named Remy Deedless. He'd made it into the Storm Lords sure enough, but his initiation'd been so rough and tough that he never got around to topping it. Eventually his own pack just goes and exiles him, and he retreats to this little shack out in the bayou. But the bayou's a wonderous place in the Shadow, and he went just about every day to enjoy the sights, the sounds, the smells. Which is why he was in the right place and the right time to see a Nutria named Dirtiest Swamp Rat *bust* up out of the trees, trailing Spanish moss up out of its *six wings.* Three pairs, none alike. Well of course no nutria ever had wings, so he went chasing after it. Course, the Crow spirits already done knew about it. Dirtiest Swamp Rat had stolen from Heron, and from Pelican, and from Sparrow, all because he wanted to fly, and he was hungry for even more wings. He had to be stopped before he stitched all the wings of all the birds right onto his hairy, dirty back. Well, as these things happen, the leader of the murder, Keen Eyed Joe, he and Remy Deedless entered the same Old Hollow Cypress in the Shadow trying to get answers about where Nutria was holed up to do his stitching, and whether he had more wings to stitch on, and it very nearly came to blows. But just as Joe had his talons on Remy's balls and Remy had his throat on Joe's neck, they hear a shriek and see that dadgum nutria'd already cornered himself the Hawk. So they look at each other, and they nod at each other, and they bust up out of that old cypress tree, and they go tearing after nutria together, and save that Hawk's life. Well, after that they decided they might as well work together to take down Dirtiest Swamp Rat." He is getting into it now, having a grand old time telling the tale, and it's just full New Orleans accent for everyone now. "They waited one day and one night while Nutria hid from them, using the information from the old Hollow Cypress to wait just outside his lair. And when he emerged, Deedless, he calls down the storm and the thunder to ground that dirty Nutria and force him back to the ground, and Keen Eyed Joe, he leads his murder to go right for his eyes and his heart. Then Deedless, he jump in, and he rips those wings right off, but carefully, at the seams. And as the murder takes Nutria down, they're hungry, so they have themselves a little light lunch. And Deedless lays the wings out and he waits. And they suddenly look up, thinking that oid dumb wolf child was gonna eat those wings. And when they saw he hadn't, Joe said: Why didn't you eat the wings? And Deedless said: well number one, they ain't mine. And number two, nutria don't taste good in nothin' but gumbo anyway. The crows, now, had such a good laugh over that they told that joke for months, and that's how Remy Deedless became Remy Gumbo, and went on to become a respected elder in his days. And Remy himself told of the Crow's ferocity, so much so that the Storm Lords in South Louisiana, they sure know they don't go messin' with crows ever unless they wanna have themselves a bad day. And the rest of the Nutria? Well they sure never tried to fly again...and I hear tell to this day every one of 'em hides when Crows are around." Erina stares at the Crow Spirit and says, quietly, "You honor me. May I share this secret with my pack? This information...thank you. It is far more than I expected after my blunder." She nods over at Ethan, happily telling stories to all who'll listen, looking like he's reveling in it. She's only catching a word, here and there, but damn if she doesn't want to get him to tell that story to her later. One by one the crows go silent as Ethan relates his story, the whispering dying down until only silence remains. Every pair of eyes and ears is directed his way, drinking in this story that they clearly have not heard before. Something freely offered, honoring the spirits of the Crow for their cunning and guile, bravery, ferocity. Even Whispers gets that puffed-up look again as Ethan goes on, pride swelling up in him as the story goes on. A nod to Erina then. "You've shown yourself to be honorable," he tells her. "And a minor mistake is forgivable, so long as learning comes from it. And you seem to have learned. I trust in the future you'll continue to show yourself a Daughter of the Half-Hidden Moon." "As for the information..." He shrugs. "Your bartered for it fairly. It's now yours to do with as you please. But the value of a secret lessens the more know it. Be sure that you're willing to spend that currency, if you tread down that path. Spread too thin, and you won't be able to use it in the future. It stops being *secret*. Loses its flavor." When it's over, Ethan shoots them a smile, and then leaves it at that. Spotlight off, performance done, he rises, hearing that Erina has concluded her negotiations. He'll breathe his silent sigh of relief over the way that went when they're back out of here and on safer ground. For now he just focuses on avoiding any more missteps, letting Erina handle the final pleasantries. He's not about to jinx it now that it's going well! "I will keep your advice in mind, Whispers-in-the-Ear-of-Allies. And next time, we'll bring better offerings." Erina's already thinking of things to bring, clearly, just in case. "Shall we rejoin our comrades?" She gestures with her off-hand, as non-threatening as it gets, and waits for the spirit to join her as they go back to Ethan. Whispers looks puffed-up enough to float away on the breeze. A concluded bargain with the werewolves, and the whispers from the trees silenced. He looks back at his own Umia, chest sticking out slightly. Apparently, whatever happened here gained him something there, as there are several grudging nods to the bird-spirit. "I look forward to your return, Children of the Wolf-Father," he tells them both, moving over to join Ethan once more. "You honor us with your story, freely given, Son of the Pregnant Moon. We shall remember this in the future." Whatever threat was coming from the trees earlier seems to have passed for now, and Ethan and Erina have at least part of what they came for. Whispers seems to consider the wolves a second, head cocking to the side in that curious, bird-like way. "A secret," he offers. "Freely given in turn. You might find something unexpected in your search -- and you may not find what you expect. You don't see all the parts, and see substance in shadow. Be careful of the assumptions you make." And with that, it seems that his willingness to engage in the transaction ends. He turns, and in the space of a heartbeat is a normal-looking crow again, flying triumphantly to the trees to join the others. "Farewell, Whispers," Ethan says warmly. But he's also thinking about what the crow had to *say.* Ethan tilts his head at that, thoughtful. It's a good warning---about assumptions, that is---and he finds himself downgrading his working theory. But he'll have to go have a think about that one. For now? He murmurs to Erina: "Let's head out while the heading out is good. Maybe we can grab a coffee and brainstorm what we can do to find out more?"