((Damien and Patrick are both invited by James – Damien for James and Patrick for Ari))
Ari stood wearing a light blue halter top dress, edged with silver fabric, her hair brushed out stairs and laying loose around her shoulders. She looked confused, as if she didn’t know what was going on. She wrapped one arm around Garret reflexively, resting her head on his shoulder if he was in Lupus or just leaning against him for comfort if he was in Homid.
James was wearing a white button-down shirt and khakis, his hair brushed and lying flat for once instead of its usual perpetually wind-blown style. He looked sick to his stomach and stood staring at the large old gun that rested on the mantle of the Ancestor’s Shrine. It had a single glyph carved into it, the glyph for Honor. James didn’t understand it, but he tentatively rushed his hand over it, remembering the first time he had held the weapon in his hand. He had been younger than Ari…
And Thoth finished his speech James looked over. He looked to Damien for a second and then swallowed heavily.
“What are you talking about?” Ari looked suspicious. “I know the story of my father.” Her arm tightened around Garret for a second before relaxing.
“Not the whole story.” James croaked. He took a nervous breath, glancing at Damien again. “I’m not a Galliard. Had I changed, I would have been a Philodox. I’m not a story-teller and I don’t think I can do him justice but… I’m the only one on this coast who knows the whole story…” He paused and it looked like continuing was very hard for him. “And I think I knew him best.’
The Kinfolk looked back over his shoulder at the gun that stood on the mantle.
“Michael “Leap Through Fire” Harwood was my mentor. I was raised kinfolk knowing about my Garou relatives. And by knowing I meant going up and my room and staying there when mother said she had business. I kept my head down and my mouth closed. The first and only Garou to ever take an interest in me was Michael.” A fond smile grew on his face. “He was a hard mentor, but a fair one. And I grew to love him like a father.” He dared a glance at Alice and then looked away again, scanning the group en masse. His smile faded. “But I was not his son.”
His voice grew harder, more bitter. “Michael had a son, I learned a couple years into my training in the Sept. A Garou son.” He glanced at Damien. “We hated one another. And I think the only thing that kept us from killing on another was Michael… although he didn’t stop his son from breaking several of my limbs.” The anger in this is audible and he holds Damien’s eyes for a few more seconds. After taking a moment to collect himself he continues. “You see… His son was a traditionalist. A Pure Bred Get of Fenris Traditionalist.” He looks down and back up. “I later found out that Michael himself had once been a Get but had Renownced his tribe when he and the elders of his Sept did not see eye to eye…” James shakes his head. “He never did like authority figures.”
And this is when Ari intercedes, looking horror stricken and disgusted. “You mean… I’m… a… a /GET/?!” She looks from James to Damien accusingly, mouth open and eyes narrowed in distrust.
((Pause for other people to interact if they wiiiish ^_^))