Meek Hunter brings us across the gauntlet into the Penumbra while we’re all holding hands and working in tandem. The presence of non-Garou makes life difficult in some really strange ways. They can’t just worlds. They need to be led by the nose. For all their knowledge and power, in some ways they are as blind as the herd.
Meek Hunter takes off at a good pace across the angry landscape. It’s obvious that we’re being watched by the local spirit life, and I don’t think they want us here that much. We’re being studied. Tracked.
Our guide stutters out his desire to try the Flux Realm before trying the Abyss. It’s like saying you’d like to pull my fingernails out of my right instead of my left. It all hurts like hell, and none of it’ll make any sense to me, most likely. It’s just pain cause you felt like inflicting pain. With any luck this’ll end in actually meeting Nembisa, but who knows.
Poor Serena has pretty well stopped asking questions. She’s just following along after Meek Hunter numbly. I think the family deaths totally fucked her up.
As we approach the hole into the deeper realms, we’re jumped by the spirits that had been tracking us. We fight our way into the Flux Realm and manage to escape with relatively little in the way of damage.
We do a quick triage on wounds for the bruja and then set off again following Meek Hunter’s lead. The Flux Realm is a nightmare. There’s no structure. No routine. My headspace isn’t really that good for this. Maybe I’m still too institutionalized for this. I hadn’t thought of myself that way, but evidence isn’t good.
Nimbisa ends up being a sphynx looking chick, crazier than most I’ve met. She’s obviously a creature of Wyld. Conversation goes slowly with the circular logic and patterns of a creature of Wyld. Maddening, really. We manage to get from her a few tidbits, and in the process she takes Beau off on a dream voyage for a little while and when they come back, we’re informed that the whole of us need to partake of a sweatlodge. Lydia’s got the usual prudish responses to this, but too fuckin bad. Ritual has to happen sometimes.
We kick the thing off and find ourselves waking up in a garden of eden looking place, with dinosaurs and other threats obviously around the area still. There we stumble upon a group of Shifters who call to us as brothers and sisters. They speak of the One Tribe and teach us hidden gifts for use in the End of Days. There is joy and trust amoungst them, and I can not trust it for even a moment. It saddens me to see the degree to which I do not believe in the lie of cooperation anymore. As the veneer of saftey is stripped away by the roar of danger approaching, it is clear that these here do not see or hear the danger. They can live in saftey and cooperation because the fears and dangers we face are not real to them. Cooperation and community are possible when the world is Perfect.
I don’t live in Perfect.
It pisses me off. We asked for a way to avoid the fight to come and we were given fighting knives. Maybe the others have brought home more useful things, but it seems to me that these things are not what I asked for. I wanted the ways to avoid the fight! To stop an Apocalypse, not to fight it. But it seems that Things conspiring against me in this. I am fated to live the life of a Garou – a warrior of Gaia. To fight the End of Days. Ragnarok is coming and I am a warrior in it’s days.
Nimbisa offers to “Change” Ace and Lydia. I watch in horror as they take the bait and ask for change from one of the Incarna of Change. I pray that it’ll only be the implied change, that they become Naga and Cat Folk, respectively.
We’re going to end up slaved to this thing. There’s reasons I shy away from dealings with spirits of these powers. Damn Incarna can mess with us like puppets in their stage. My day keeps getting worse.