Werewolf - Tides of Change
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 A lesson on rage...

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Ralunim
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Join date : 2011-04-14

PostSubject: A lesson on rage...   Sun 24 Apr 2011, 6:46 am

Alright, pup, shut up and listen for a minute. There's a lesson you need to learn. Do you really think that you can just shift to Gauru and let that solve all your problems? Shit. Let me tell you a story, give you a little perspective...

It happened to me when I was only 18. Later than some, younger than most. Just like anyone else, really. I was going to start university that year. Fine arts. I used to paint all the time. Yeah, even those happy little trees everyone hears about. It was a cloudy night, not a star to be seen, not that you could ever see anything downtown with all the light pollution. It didn't matter to me - the fake glow of neon and the soft hue of traffic lights were easy to ignore, just like every other face to find themselves wandering aimlessly through town that night. That night I had just been turned down for a position at a cafe that I desperately needed. When you're the de facto man of the house and have a mother and little sister to look after, you do what you can, right? Needless to say, I wasn't in a good mood, and just wanted to make it to my girlfriend's apartment to forget the night. I could barely hear the dull thumping of my steel caps on the uneven pavement, so loud was the Avenged Sevenfold screaming in my ear. I've been a lot more careful with my hearing since, and I'm sure you're beginning to realise how important the senses are - now that they've been opened up, why would you want to close them off again, right? See how you're feeling in a month's time. Ever noticed just how many people scream in this city? Don't worry, you will...

So I was walking down the road, minding my own business when I went past them. A bunch of men trying to find some significance to their pitiful lives out on the town, bottles in hand, laughing away. I shuffled on past, hands deep in the confines of my trench coat, not even giving them a second look. Keeping a low profile is something you're going to have to learn to do, but we're all new once. There was a lull in their conversation as I passed them. I couldn't hear the comments they made, but one of them smirked and elbowed his jerk of a friend. They laughed, and I felt my fists clench a little. I wasn't in the mood for this shit, they weren't worth the trouble. Fuck, I had a headache building up anyway. Normally the music helped with that.

But of course, they weren't going to leave me alone. I'd only taken a few more steps, passing a turned over recycling bin, when through the corner of my eye I saw them get up and start swaggering in my direction. Shit. I counted five, but figured there might have been a sixth in my blind spot. I knew the streets well enough. If they wanted trouble, they were going to have to track me down for it. I sped up a bit, just a little extra length to each stride, so as not to be too obvious. Subtlety wasn't that important by this point.

"Oi! Pretty boy!" One of them called out. I ignored him. What, you would have done otherwise? He was twice my size back then. The wind picked up, and blew the smell of cigarette smoke, as noxious as the man smoking, towards me. Better downwind than upwind, as you should know now. Looking ahead, I could see clouds in the harbour, a still reflection upon the water of the sky above. That was the first beautiful thing about that night.

"Hey, fag! My mate wants a word with you," another called out. Yeah, I wore this much makeup back then too, though I hadn't built the muscle to back it up. Dickhead number two closed the distance, reaching out to place a hand on my shoulder. I spun on my heels, pushing his hand away and coming face to face with him. He was an ugly fucker, no doubt the scars on his face an accurate representation of his personality.
"Fuck off," I growled at him, before turn to stride off. There was an alleyway up ahead, I'd cut through there and lose them on the other side. I guess you could say I was pretty pissed off. My head wasn't making it any easier either, the pain was really starting to build up.

"Hah, get a load of that, Mikey, this little bitch has an attitude," Dickhead number two said, and I could just hear them setting off after me again.
"Good, I like it when they struggle," Mikey replied, and I could feel my heart skip a beat. Fuck this, I was getting out of here. I ran for it, the heavy thumping of my boots echoed by five or so pairs of footsteps hot behind me. I was fast, but they could keep up. I glanced back to see how far behind they were as I rounded a corner, and almost ran into a wall. I could have jumped it if I'd known. Moments later my back was up against it as their ominous shadows were cast along the alleyway, the light of the moon making sure I could see every ounce of malice in their eyes.

It wasn't a pretty struggle. I drew a knife, and managed to do some damage with it. But there were five of them. It wasn't long before I lost it, and blow after blow slammed into my body. They grappled me, and after that, I wasn't going anywhere. Teeth bared, I spat blood as their ringleader told me just what was going to happen. I don't remember what he said, though I know I wasn't afraid. By that point, I'd stopped listening. It was impossible to hear anything, with the pounding in my head, the slick sensation of sweat soaking through my clothing. I felt ill, but at the same time, as though I was being cured of everything I had suffered before. Even as Mikey came closer, all I knew was rage. But it was more than that. More pure and powerful! You've all felt it, right before that last moment where everything changes. I struggled as they started to turn me around, and that's when I saw it - the second beautiful thing that night. Teeth clenched together, I looked up, and I saw her - filling the whole of the night sky, now clear, and full in all her glory was our mother, Luna the Destroyer. Her light shone down into my wide eyes, and I think it was then that they knew something wasn't right. But for me, everything was perfect. I felt my muscles tense and grow, and grow, and grow, my sweat soaked t-shirt starting to tear.

"Uh... Mikey?" One of them muttered, but it didn't matter. For the first time in my life, I was alive - and they were all going to witness it.
The rest followed so fast, as the fur broke out over my skin, my bones stretched and twisted, reshaping as I grew taller. The screaming started when the teeth narrowed to deadly points as my jaw shot out, my clothes long since torn apart. They ran. Hah! As though they had any hope of getting away. It was then that I gave my first true howl, and then, feeling deeply that pure rage, that fury, in the light of the full moon, I turned upon cowering Mikey.

I don't remember how I killed him. I only remember when I finally shifted back that my hands were covered with his blood. Blood isn't nearly as artistic when it's smeared all over your hands, hot and sticky. Maybe you know what that's like, the horror of your first kill. Maybe some of your friends or pack mates do. It doesn't matter, in the end. It still chills you to your very core. She found me, naked and trembling in the rain. Crying, blood stained huddled in the dark. Called by my birthing cry that echoed out across the city’s shadowy reflection. It wasn't with pity that she looked upon me with, but understanding. She told me of the history of the People. Our People.

That was the last beautiful thing that night. Turned out that Mikey had a wife and a daughter, of all things. Sure, he had it coming, but it doesn't sound so glorious now, does it? Take it from me - you can do all you want to try and make it up to them, and I've been trying to do that for some time now, but you can never apologise. You will never be able to get that catharsis from telling them what happened, and they will never be able to forgive you, whether they should or not. Because they couldn't understand even if you were allowed to explain it. I didn't see much of my family again after that. Only enough to soften the blow of my disappearance. They think I'm serving overseas. That's what I told them, whether they believe it or not. I couldn't risk my little sister being around if I lost control... being a danger to your own flesh and blood isn't something to be proud about. It's like they always said... with great power comes great responsibilities. Understand you're a part of something bigger now. It's on you to step up to deal with that.

Don't think that this is some movie, and you're here to kick ass and blow shit up. Let's see how keen you are after your first jaunt through the Hisil. You have a job to do, pup. You've got a lot to learn if you ever want a hope of living with that rage inside you. It's terrifying, I know. The world isn't what it used to be. Gangbangers are the least of your concerns now. You don't even want to know what lies in the shadow. But you're going to have to. You've got to change who you were to deal with this new life. You have to learn how to find harmony within, or I'm telling you, you're not going to make it through the month. It's a nasty world out there, but you don't have to live in it alone. That rage is only a part of who you are now. We can help you come to terms with that, but you have to want to change.

So, what's it going to be, pup? Are you ready to find your place amongst the Uratha? Or you going to burn out and die, struggling 'til the end and wondering where it all went wrong?


Last edited by Ralunim on Sun 24 Apr 2011, 11:54 am; edited 2 times in total
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