June Moot/Cyllan's Satire Rite (June 27, 1996)

Anne rises, taking steps from the Windy Spot towards the center. She looks out 
  at the Garou in the center, gaze stopping on Cyllan and on Paul. "Judgements 
  were made, punishments chosen. Tonight, that punishment is carried out." She 
  spreads her hands out in an encompassing gesture, this time touching on 
  those Garou who have been chosen to assist. "Scott, Galliard of the Silver 
  Fangs, will guide the telling of this story, though I perform the Rite."
Sepdet seems a bit preoccupied to acknowledge Blinks. She lets out a long 
  breath, shakes something away, and gets to her feet.
Quiet heads southeast to the pool.
In the Windy Spot, Justine heads into the center.
Sepdet shifts down and circles out and around the group Anne is assembling.
Sepdet contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Sepdet shifts into Lupus form.
Justine trails Anne, fidgeting nervously.
Scott moves with purpose from his position on the western point of the wheel 
  through the center and to the Windy Spot. He stands, on one of the higher 
  sections of ground, and turns to face the assembled Garou.
His expression is even, impassive, his voice mater of fact. "These are the 
  events as told by other Garou, of one of their kind, Cyllan Seeks-the-Truth, 
  and her fall from her place of honor and respect among them." He motions to 
  Anne as he says,"In the telling of this story, Anne will take the part of 
  Cyllan."
Scott heads into the center to meet Anne.
Wayfinder comes to all fours, shakes and follows Sepdet over to the group.
Timothy passes a glance over Isaac as he makes his way toward Brittany, but 
  quickly passes it over on Scott instead.
Su lowers herself into a squat, watching with a vigorously controlled lack of 
  passion.
Anne bows slightly towards Scott, and towards the Garou of the audience, 
  glancing once towards the silent Cyllan and then towards Sepdet.
Paul moves quietly to the place of winds and squats down, guesturing for 
  Justine to to follow him.
Paul heads southwest, to the spot where the winds swirl.
Hope-Star saunters around the caern, tail set at a cocky, arrogant angle, 
  nearly running over Wayfinder. She makes a show of jumping back, incensed, 
  sides puffing out, and stalks all the way around the "sleeping" Garou like a 
  Talon finding strange scents on her own turf. Then, ostentatiously, she 
  lifts a hindleg in alpha fashion and mimes marking the ground by Wayfinder's 
  head.
On the northern curve, Thunder's Claws folds his arms across his chest, 
  watching.
Justine goes with Paul, quietly and severely proper.
Justine heads southwest, to the spot where the winds swirl.
Cassandra watches, but she doesn't, eyes seemingly far-off in another world 
  and time.
Kosh crosses his arms and watches, ears ready.
Eyes-Halfblind flicks one ear forward, and tilts her head to follow the 
  movements of those around her.
Lightbringer shifts down from her war form and watches, impassive.
Lightbringer contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Lightbringer shifts into Homid form.
Wayfinder leaps up from where she had been curled, and blurs into the warform, 
  clenching and unclenching her claws for a moment. She gestures angrily, 
  shock and outrage warring for dominance of her features. Soundless, but 
  obviously derisive, words and gestures follow, ending with a final "shooing" 
  motion.
In the Windy Spot, Kath backs away from Paul, eyes darting as the Garou begin 
  moving in some strange play.
Hunts Wrongs shifts down as well, mild curiosity coloring her face.
Wayfinder contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Wayfinder shifts into Crinos form.
Hunts Wrongs contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Hunts Wrongs shifts into Homid form.
Hope-Star lurches back, snarling, and shifts up to match Wayfinder, extending 
  one clawed index finger with a graphic jab. She points at the ground the 
  Stargazer vacated and shakes a fist, gesticulating angrily and miming a 
  furious tirade.
Hope-Star contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Hope-Star shifts into Crinos form.
Anpwhotep crouches so he doesn't block anyone's view.
Kosh keeps to the rear, watching with interest.
Echen watches tiredly, patiently, but with a manner of silent relief (though 
  it seems more likely that this is due to the whole affair finally being 
  finished than the nature of the punishment itself).
Wayfinder lifts her lip in a silent snarl, and glares back at the rudely 
  gesturing garou, dark eyes flashing. She glances around the assembled garou 
  with an indignant expression just begging for approval to thrash the 
  "perpetrator." Then her eyes light upon "Cyllan" and then turns back to her 
  "rival" with a smirk. She points peremptorily in "Cyllan's" direction with 
  some more mouthed words, and stomps over to the halfmoon. Wayfinder 
  gesticulates wildly, obviously explaining her side of the story, jabbing an 
  accusing claw at her "rival." She then fold her arms, foot tapping 
  impatiently as she waits for a judgement.
In the Windy Spot, Paul closes his eyes for a moment, then relaxes all at once 
  and silently walks back into the center. He keeps a small distance from the 
  other players, dropping back into a comfortable squat and watching what 
  happens.
In the Windy Spot, Justine hesitates a moment, unsure of what to do, then 
  follows Paul back as unobtrusively as possible.
In the Windy Spot, Justine heads into the center.
Sepdet sulkily pounds after, not to be outdone, interspersing a hand-waving 
  presentation of her own "case" with decidedly inflammatory gestures.
Su watches with several different layers of interest, and her reactions to the 
  scene are complex though she tries to keep them hidden.
On the southern curve, Cristoph comes in from the woodland to the south.
On the southern curve, Cristoph heads into the center.
Anne listens, arms crossed, expression quite grave, to the two. After both are 
  finished, she holds her hands out, touching each one lightly. She draws her 
  hands back and gestures, lips moving, apparently rendering a decision.
Cristoph comes walking in silence from the forest, his steps immediately 
  swerving towards Cassandra.
Sepdet steps back somewhat sulkily, but bows her head towards the arbitrator 
  and retreats, dropping out of the rather alien stance and body language of 
  the character she's donned for the tableau.
Scott, while this is going on, supplies narration. "Cyllan, before, was a 
  Philodox of some renown. While a cliath, she acted as Caster to Anubis's 
  Waykeeper, rendering judgements to those with disputes."
Near the Pool, Quiet remains a yellow shadow by the pool, eyes on the center. 
  Her posture remains mostly neutral, seemingly by conscious effort.
Cassandra stares at the scene being enacted, and yet beyond it, something that 
  only she can see superimposed over her view of reality, from her position at 
  the edge of the center of the Wheel.
Wayfinder nods respectfully, reluctantly agreeing to the judgement, and steps 
  back.
Near the Fire Pit, Soulcatcher contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Near the Fire Pit, Soulcatcher pauses, his body losing its continuity and 
  twisting into Homid form.
SwipesAtSalmon watches with eyes narrowed, tail sweeping slowly from side to 
  side in a gesture that is not one of pleasure.
Anne turns from the two and meanders a step or two towards the table stone.
Cristoph approaches Cassandra from her flank, and lays one big hand on her 
  shoulder, watching what passes in the circle's center.
Brittany watches the tale unfold, catching some things she has not before been 
  aware of.
On the northern curve, Thunder's Claws drums fingers on opposite arms, 
  watching the spectacle in the center.
Near the Fire Pit, Joseph heads into the center.
Sepdet takes a deep breath and changes once more, then ambles out towards the 
  edge of the Wheel and into the shadows of the forest.
Kosh watches the tableau with detachment.
Cassandra shudders as she is jolted from her reverie, and looks up, offering 
  the man above her a sheepish and faintly worried grin, gesturing him to sit 
  beside her.
Scott says, "And so Cyllan made a name for herself, and on her fourth try, 
  passed her Challenge for the rank of Fostern. Her trouble with the rank 
  didn't end there. Even a little bit of questioning was more than she could 
  bear. Even from a ragabash like Kevely."
Beatrice, shyly at first, then with more self-confidence, comes forward, 
  saying in a cultured voice as Anne with her back to the Fianna ragabash, 
  bows to the tablestone, "I don't think she's being very fair in this case. 
  Maybe she's wrong?"
Isaac watches the play with occasional glances to Brittany.
Sepdet contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Sepdet shifts into Glabro form.
Anne turns on Beatrice, face contorted with sudden anger. "Quiet, cub! I'm the 
  Philodox, and what I say is fair is fair."
Wayfinder blurs down and fades back into the crowd of watchers, unobtrusively, 
  head lowered shyly now.
Wayfinder contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
In the Windy Spot, Paul heads into the center.
Wayfinder shifts into Lupus form.
Cristoph takes a seat beside Cassandra, but his eyes are on Anne and Beatrice.
On the northern curve, Thunder's Claws snorts.
Beatrice says, "But what if it's not?"
Near the Pool, From where the darkness nearly hides him, in the shadows near 
  Quiet, Patrick gives an unamused grin. He looks pointedly into the center, 
  at the clump of Fianna.
Anne snarls, form swelling into Crinos. ~I said _QUIET_!~ One claw sweeps out, 
  lightning fast, to slide by Beatrice's throat. The Ragabash cub crumples, 
  and Anne stares down at the unmoving form with eyes wide. ~I didn't - I 
  didn't mean -~ She turns, running blindly through the crowd, half-tripping 
  on an extended leg as she shrinks back into homid. The fingers of one hand 
  cross, behind her back, as she sobs, "I didn't mean to! I won't ever do it 
  again!"
Ilse sits by herself, a low snarl forming in her throat at the playacted 
  halfmoon's behavior.
Paul has been squatting quietly, miming warming his hands over an invisible 
  flame, smiling hugely for no apparent reason. As the cub slumps to the 
  ground he surges to his feet shouting incoherently. Only a brief flicker 
  remains of the uncanny smile, which transforms along with his body to a 
  killing rictus of bared teeth as he charges the cubkiller.
Justine's face goes white and the set of her mouth is a grim line, but she 
  shifts form to match Paul and moves after him quickly, growling low. One 
  hand closes on his arm with an iron grip, the other lifting in an 
  unmistakable guesture: Stop. No.
Thatcher's muzzle wrinkles slightly, as she folds massive arms across her 
  chest.
Seshemw strains against Justine's restraint for a moment, then slowly sinks 
  back down to homid. Now his smile is fixed in place, and still has a 
  slightly menacing edge to it. He stalks back to where he started, sinking 
  back into his crouch and watching Anne intently. His stance seems to 
  indicate that while he wants to do far more, still, but he'll wait for now 
  and merely watch.
While Anne is backing away, Joseph and Megan, behind her a ways, has begun 
  pantomiming. Megan has a blissfully peaceful expression on her face while 
  the Wendigo has draped himself in a black cloak, head held high arrgontly 
  and strutting back and forth. Anne, apparently not watching, runs into him, 
  where he grabs her roughly and drags her before Megan. "Judge her," he says 
  to Anne. "She messed with a cub of my tribe, turning him into this!" Joseph 
  pulls out a turnip from under the folds of his cloak.
Anne stops running, gathering her balance back and drawing herself up a bit to 
  compose herself. She says, to Megan, "Why did you do that?"
Kosh raises an eyebrow at the choce of vegetables...
In the Windy Spot, Kath simply shakes her head.
Cristoph rubs at his mouth with a hand, watching.
Justine retreats to one side, her part over, and bites her lips to keep from 
  laughing at the turnip.
Megan's eyes grow wide when she sees the turnip, and a look of *utter* 
  miserableness comes on her. "What...I didn't mean...oh, I'm sorry, I was 
  only trying to help!" she wails.
SwipesAtSalmon's ears twitch in terrible confusion.
Anne stomps her foot. "Well, you didn't. Why didn't you realize you were going 
  to do that to him?"
Isaac scratches his head.
Isaac leans over to Brittany, whispering only slightly obtrusively.
Without changing expression, Megan begins shaking and cowering, then looks 
  over at Joseph whose expression is becoming more and more glowering, "I was 
  only trying to see if he had any brains!" At that Joseph snarls and makes as 
  if to attack the pathetic looking Fianna. The motion, however, is incredibly 
  slow, as if through molasses despite his acted rage.
Kosh moves to whisper something to Thena...only to find her usual space beside 
  him empty.
Near the Pool, Quiet's ears twitch in humor, despite herself, at the turnip. 
  Patrick touches her ruff, moving closer to the Gaian.
Cassandra looks up at Cristoph, smirking faintly. Very faintly. She leans 
  close to whisper something to the big man.
Su watches tensely.
Anne bends down to scoop up a stick, leaping in between Joseph and Megan, 
  facing Joseph. She waves the stick at him. "You asked me to judge this, so 
  get back and let me judge it!"
On the northern curve, Thunder's Claws continues to watch, although now the 
  black Crinos' claws are digging rather than drumming and blood stains his 
  arms. His grinds his jaws together.
Joseph continues his drawn out attack on Megan, who isn't making a move from 
  her cringing stand. Anne hesitates for just a single moment, then turns 
  abruptly, still between the other two, to face the Fianna. The stick in her 
  hand is shifted in her grip into a spear, which drives towards Megan's 
  throat. The Philodox lets out a wail that can only be fake, a hand going 
  over her stomach in that protective gesture characteristic of the pregnant 
  women, collapsing to the ground with the hand in place, the other thrown 
  wide.
A low rumble escapes the dark-coated Fianna theurge.
Ilse mutters something truly and utterly vicious in Arabic, finding no other 
  language has quite the violence for it.
Anne stares down at the second dead Fianna at her feet. "You were supposed to 
  _move_!" she cries out, voice starting at her normal tones and spiraling up 
  into hysteria. "You were supposed to move, why didn't you move!" She leaps 
  over the body, dropping her stick beside it, and runs further onwards. At 
  the very edge of the caern, under the trees, she stops, and a wisp of 
  impenetrable silver fog appears, which she gestures to emphatically as 
  though discussing something with some entity therein.
Robert looks vaguely confused, as if a scene must have been edited someplace, 
  making the story's jump a bit sudden to follow.
SwipesAtSalmon's attention shifts disgruntledly from the bizarre playacting to 
  Cyllan and back, as if trying to see whether the punishment is having any 
  effect. Her curt lupine glare towards the Uktena suggests that the Satire 
  has certainly not improved the Talon's opinion of her.
Kosh lowers his head and snarls something in his musical sub-voice, the sound 
  resembling violins being raped to death by chainsaws.
In the Windy Spot, Kath looks more than vaguely confused. She finally sits on 
  the ground, hugging her knees to her chest.
Ilse refuses resolutely to look at Cyllan. Her neck muscles are rigid with the 
  effort not to turn her head that way.
After Anne runs, Drew moves, beginning to thread through the crowd asking, 
  "What did you see?" loud enough to be heard, while Scott says over him, "It 
  was Paul who was given the task of judging, and he did so assiduously. And 
  while he went among the witnesses, she avoided all Garou, then became allies 
  with Marbuel, a minion of the Wyrm..."
Su starts upward halfway, a growl rising in her throat.
SwipesAtSalmon's ears snap forward at that, a new link in the tale. Her 
  baleful glower turns back towards the shimmer at the edge of the Wheel, and 
  the figure of Anne affecting to whisper to it.
Near the Pool, Quiet, who had been showing signs of repressed anger from the 
  rite, suddenly blinks. She tilts her head to one side and chuffs softly to 
  Patrick.
Eyes-Halfblind listens, but any reaction she has is kept to herself.
Brittany's hand falls to her Klaive, but moves not one inch further.
Cyllan gives Scott, then Anne, a questioning stare, then a snort.
Cristoph watches the rite distractedly, little expression showing on his face, 
  except for an occasional grin when he ducks his head down a bit to listen to 
  a low whisper from Cassandra.
Anne finally concludes her discussion with the wisp of fog and turns back into 
  the Wheel, pacing back and forth. She says, stopping by Isaac, "Alexander 
  asked me to judge, and I did. She was lying to me, the Gift said so. I 
  killed her for her punishment." She takes several more steps, then turns to 
  Swipes at Salmon. "I didn't mean to do it, I thought she would move, I'm 
  sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Another turn, and she pauses by Luz. "My 
  packmates Cleansed me," she says defiantly, in a mercurial switch of 
  temperament like that of her choice of listener. "I was Wyrmtainted, I'm not 
  responsible for what I did then."
Su has become iron-tense as her respect for the Rite keeps her barely in 
  check. She can't still all of the rumble that begs to rise from her chest at 
  Drew's final accusation, but it's a good effort.
Luz's cynicism is her only reply, clear in her eyes as she watches the 
  performance.
Isaac blinks and looks to Brittany.
Ilse snorts at the plethora of excuses offered by the actress representing 
  Cyllan.
Brittany's hand lifts from her blade to reassure the Fang at her side, patting 
  his leg softly.
Drew finishes his wandering through, and moves to where Anne is to say, "I've 
  decided your punishment is to be Satire Rite at the next Moot in two weeks." 
  The Black Fury grimaces and nods, as solemnly as she can despite her 
  expression. Drew turns around, back to Anne, to wave the other actors 
  towards him. As soon as he does so, Anne skips away, around the outside of 
  the Gathering, towards where Bitter-Water is padding back and forth under a 
  tree.
Near the Pool, Patrick yawns studiously. Quiet tenses as she makes a 
  connection, waiting to see if the play carries out as she expects.
From the overhanging branches of the tree which Anne approached, a sudden 
  shower of bright flowers raining down on her head is accompanied by dreamy, 
  cheerful New Age background music, irritatingly hummed by Sepdet.
Anne catches one of the flowers in her hands and skips along with it, offering 
  it to Casey. "You must be my unicorn!" she says. The Gaian glowers at her, 
  which seems not to deter Anne at all; she takes the daisy into her mouth, 
  teeth lightly clamped on the stem, to clap her hands as she skips. Abruptly, 
  as she reaches the tree trunk, she stops, and crosses her arms, half-turning 
  back so her face is visible. Dark and brooding now, she stares at the ground 
  sulkily, until Casey comes up behind her and, with the unicorn's horn the 
  metis has in Crinos, slaps her lightly. Anne turns around to glower at the 
  other Galliard, then claps her hands again and skips back towards the others 
  in the center.
Near the Pool, Quiet bristles, ruff flared. She, like Su, holds herself in 
  check out of respect, with an effort.
Robert's back goes absolutely rigid, and his dark eyes narrow and harden. He 
  mutters something softly to himself; those nearby can pick out the word 
  "unicorn" in there somewhere.
Kosh allows himself a dark smirk at the casting of this little passion play.
Su has subsided a little, though she's still distracted by anger and glances 
  now and then in Drew's direction.
Cristoph frowns, quizzically, not at the rite, but at Cassandra.
While Anne and Casey interact to one side, on another, Drew as Paul looks 
  around for something, apparently fruitlessly, then settles down in a crouch, 
  checking a fake watch on his wrist now and then.
Anne slows from a skip to a walk as she returns to the center of the caern. 
  She approaches Cyllan, the other performers in the Rite coming in to form a 
  loose circle around the pair. She holds the daisy in her left hand, her 
  right making a sweeping gesture in front and then to the side of her. "And 
  such is the tale of the Uktena Cliath, Cyllan, who returned to her people 
  for the punishment that had been decreed."