"Yes, we are guilty. Yes, we are being punished. Yes, we knew it was wrong."

The Sept Compound(#2075RAM)
Sweeping branches of trees form a sort of natural roof overshadowing most of this clearing, no more than an open space of grasses and beaten earth in the heart of the forest. Some pains have been taken to keep wear and tear on the area to a minimum, so the firepit tends to shift from time to time. The firepit, several sawn logs polished from use, and a stack of firewood discreetly piled up at the base of an old spruce under a tarp, are the only signs of constant occupation. However, a student of such things might think that some minimal landscaping or planning has been done, for the meadowlike profusion of grasses and other plants has an unusually high concentration of brilliant flowers, which attract a number of bees and butterflies.
A faint trail leads off to the east, and a bit north.

Kevin seems to have shaken off some of his recent lethargy, and instead of lying in a discontented heap in homid or lupus as so often recently, is pacing up and down the length of the compound, an angry frown etched deeply on his face.

The sound of footsteps can be heard as someone approaches the compound. Emma comes forward, hands balled up into fists and tucked safely out of sight in her jacket pockets. Her forehead creases in a hard furrow that shows the first sign of wrinkles to come. Not a word is spoken as she walks up to where the two are kept.

A sharp contrast to Kevin, Basil is lain in the same spot he's been staying in for days aside from occasional walking. He seems to either have accepted his fate long ago, or he's just a lazy Gnawer. Either way, he lifts a hand when Emma enters the clearing, calling out. "Yo."

Kevin pauses in his pacing when Emma enters the clearing, and stands there with his hands in his pockets. Unlike Basil, he says nothing.

Her lips purse with a look that is nothing short of disgust. "They leave you guys together even now?" She shakes her head, glancing coldly at Basil, but her real venom is directed at Kevin. The rage in her gaze and posture is kept restrained only by a girl who has honed her control keenly. "I want an explanation."

"We aren't going to be going at it again anytime soon. Even without the guards around us." Basil murmurs back to her, his hands folding on his stomach.

"There isn't a great deal to explain," Kevin says in a flat monotone. "Yes, we are guilty. Yes, we are being punished. Yes, we knew it was wrong."

That doesn't seem to appease the young Ahroun. She glares at Basil, "I was not talking to you." Her eyes fall back on Kevin, "That's it? Woops?" She growls low, "You remember when I said, back when you were a cub and trying to sort through all this tribe shit? I said that I had hoped, even though you chose the Walkers, you'd honor the Get with your blood. Fuck that. If I find you stepping within three feet of Get kin." She pauses, to tack on, "Of either sex. I will fucking kill you."

"Kevin has no wish to do that with anyone. He wishes only to die honorably on the battlefield. He wants the forgiveness and love of Gaia our merciful mother. And so do I." Basil speaks out in the same quiet tone, eventually easing himself up into a sitting position.

Kevin inclines his head slowly at Basil's words. "Best I can hope for, really, now. I don't think anyone, kin, garou or human, has much to fear from me in that regard after this."

Emma tenses up and casts her gaze wrathfully on Basil. "You open your mouth once more you fucking dog, when I am not talking to you, and I will shove my fist in it." She holds his gaze for a moment before turning slowly back to Kevin. "You disgust me. But I suppose that doesn't mean shit to you does it? Pathetic."

Basil doesn't seem all to phased as he slowly pushes himself up to his feet, leaning against the tree while watching the exchange between the two, silently, for now.

"It hurts," Kevin concedes mildly. "But it's nothing compared to how I disgust myself, Emma-rhya. How I will have to live for what short time remains to me with my guilt and knowledge of what I did."

"You could have just not fucking done it Kevin!" She sighs, "Why the fuck... I mean? Come on!" She glances to the Gnawer and narrows her gaze, "I'd ask for what brought it on, but frankly, my stomach wouldn't handle it." She pauses then, growing silent and looking away from both of the offenders. "I don't understand, how I can fuckin' stop myself from flipping off the handle, and you can't stop your dick from finding its way up HIS ass."

Basil just stands there, fiddling with his slightly bent up sunglasses as Emma rants on, watching both her and Kevin with an expression of blankness.

Kevin lifts both hands and lets them drop. "You are Get," he simply says. "And I am not... and now you know the reason why I knew I could never be." He glances to Basil, and then back to Emma.

"Oh don't fucking give me that. You couldn't be Get because you like to fuck Garou? No matter where you ended up that'd have been the case. You couldn't be Get because you are fucking weak." Emma finally stops then, just glaring at the Walker. "Have they decided what to do with you yet?"

"I think he means because he likes men." Basil murmurs quietly with his head slightly bowed, one of his hands tucking into a jeans' pocket. "I guess it doesn't matter that we're sorry."

"No, it doesn't, Basil," Kevin agrees, still in that monotone. "Nor should it. Nothing will change what we did, and after they've finished our punishment," he goes on with a face cloudier than ever, "death with some kind of honour is all we can aspire to."

Emma laughs at them, "Oh, right. Because Gaia forbid you actually bust your ass to find yourselves back in her, or our graces? Punish us and let us die..." She shakes her head, "Fuck that. Maybe you could actually put some effort into doing right? Or would you prefer to go satisfying your own needs and lusts, and fuck the nation? I mean, we're doing great in this war, really."

"I actually asked to be allowed to live so that I could serve Gaia. I want to go into battle, real battle, and on revels. I want to atone for my sins. But the Philodox seem more towards punishment and suicidal fights. I'd rather live honorably and serve Gaia then die and give up." Basil responds, his voice raising a little along with his head. "When Vera came, I didn't run away. I stayed. And admitted my guilt."

Fat-Ripper moves slowly through the dark spruce forest, thick with evergreen scents and the mulch of previous seasons. It's cold for spring, and the air is still and heavy, oppressive but spurring; still she moves slowly, following others' paths without enthusiasm. Her pace quickens, slightly, at the voices ahead, and it's not long before her greasy, fur-tangled form is breaking past the treeline, and weary eyes are taking in the three Garou in the compound.

"That is true," Kevin agrees readily. "As I've already told others, I am the more culpable. I led him astray. Without my influence on him... he would have had a far better chance. He may yet redeem himself if he lives long enough, as I pray he does. But not me. I'm rotten, Emma," he says, and only with these last three words does any trace of emotion come into his voice, bitterness and anger.

Emma looks between the two, though she settles more closely on Kevin now. She steps forward, rising up into Glabro as she glares down at him. "You're rotten are you?" Nostrils flare as her fists slide tight at her sides. "So rotten that we ought to cut you from the vine that the rest might not be diseased? Is that what you are saying?"

Basil seems about to say something after a long few moments of just staring at Kevin, but his attention is diverted as Fat-Ripper enters the clearing. His lips work, then stop without any words coming out, and the Ahroun lowers his head away from his Elder.

Fat-Ripper sidles up beside Emma from behind, aware of the Ahroun's anger and wary of startling her, so she keeps her pace slow, and swats her, loosely and distractedly but with deep familiarity, with her tail as she goes by, signifying nothing in particular. Then she moves straight towards Kevin, still slow and still without any visible anger in the rise of her fur, except perhaps a growing, lingering frustration. She lifts herself up to him, paws on chest, to sniff at his untrimmed face, a lick his chin once, before moving off into the bright sun to curl and sit, on her own, by a log where the tulips are coming in strong, and watch the three, Basil in particular, curiously and purposefully.

"Are you offering?" Kevin asks Emma, deadpan, as he glances towards the approaching form of Fat-Ripper, frowning a little as though he doesn't recognise her. He doesn't protest or back off as she climbs up on him, though he does continue to seem perplexed as she drops back down and walks away again.

The tail whap, and the following perusal by lupine form, catches Emma off guard, but does not trigger any sort of instant lashing out. She glances to the wolf, and for perhaps for just a split second is tempered, before turning back to the Walker. "No Kevin, for as much as I would like to take my frustrations out on you, and to see if you bleed with regret, I can control myself." She backs off then, eyes drifting from the Walker to the wolf. "If you need to speak with them Fat-Ripper, I am just on my way out."

Basil watches Fat-Ripper for a while before he slowly makes his way over towards her, his head bowed, raised just enough to look at her. The Ahroun's posture is slumped and loose, not like his usual manner of walking. When he gets within about five feet, he makes his way down onto his knees and bows his head further to her, murmuring something quietly.

Fat-Ripper's transformation into Homid is fast, over in a second. She looks across the clearing with duller, more inscrutable eyes, now, head half-cocked to hear Basil's whispers. She speaks back to him, an equal mutter, just an unthinking second's speech, before answering Emma, "A'right, Em, if you want to head out."

Kevin raises one eyebrow as the wolf shifts and Olga's form is revealed. Then he returns his attention to Emma. "Only time will tell, I guess, whether I am truly unsalvageable. If I have caused you any personal grief or annoyance, I sincerely apologise." Again, a spark of emotion returns to the affectless ragabash. "Really... Emma, I mean that. Back when I was doing all right, your good opinion of me meant a lot to me."

Basil smiles a little bit at Olga in a sad sort of way, lifting his gaze to look up at her face. He murmurs something again before rising up to his feet, looking the elder presumably in the eyes, though his facial expression is far from a challenging one. It's obvious that he's saying something or another, but he's speaking so quietly it's near impossible to hear.

The ahroun turns to leave then, glancing back over her shoulder, "Didn't mean enough to make you think about your actions before doing them." She turns away altogether then, offering only the Gnawer elder her attention as she goes to move. A hand clasps on her old friends shoulder, squeezing briefly before she passes by her and moves back in the direction of the farm.

Kevin watches Emma depart, his face reverting to a blank and neutral expression, before walking over towards Olga and Basil quietly.

Olga claps her meaty hand on Emma's when it hits her shoulder, returning the squeeze though she doesn't look up and doesn't speak. She watches the tulips, still young and unformed, their flowers still young and slender though they bear all the colour they ever will. She listens to Basil, head half-turned, but the only answer she gives him is a slow, heavy nod, comprehending but meaningless. Her hands curl against the stripped bark of the log on which she sits, ripping off a piece and slowly shredding it with stubby fingers. "C'm'ere, Kevin," she calls out, softly but filling the clearing. "Sit down."

Basil takes a seat when Olga tells Kevin to do the same, sitting on the ground in front of Olga with his legs pulled up in front of him, chin on his knees.

Kevin moves up to Olga and sits down as bidden. "Olga," he says quietly. "It's been a long time. I'm sorry that when we meet again it's in... circumstances such as these."

Olga's tack is casual, though the strain and the awkwardness is clear in her voice. She arches and stretches like a waking bear, though that too is awkward, as she arcs out over the back of the log, sure to fall except for the hand that's firmly dug into a knot. "Could be worse," she offers, without too much confidence. "At least Jervis isn't around to comment, eh?" Her eyes travel from one boy to the other, with a school teacher's sternness and concern: "How you two holding up?" she asks them, tightly. "You been eating enough?" More slowly, with more worry, she asks, "Any word from the Philodox, or our vaunted Alpha?"

"I haven't been eating much... But I'll live. Until they punish us. I wanted to live and try to make up for my sins, but... They want to see us dead, one way or another." Basil shakes his head at Olga. "I don't know how it's all going to turn out. Everytime I come before the Philodoxes honorably, they always see it badly. But... There wasn't much honor in trying to walk away, I guess."

Kevin nods in assent. "Mathias-rhya has been bringing food. Jervis I haven't seen; I thought he'd smoked himself to death or something." Kevin allows himself a bleak smile. "As for Vera-rhya, she seemed to take great pleasure in washing her hands of us and telling us that the Philodoxes, not she, would decide our fate. It must be so nice to be an elder on those terms," he adds, "making decisions that appeal to you, and delegating the ones that don't."

"They're not going to kill you, Basil," Olga says, slightly patronizing, slightly frustrated, as if it pains her to have to say it. "Maybe out east they would, but c'm'on, this's the west coast. Even if that were what the Philodox wanted to do, Sept wouldn't let that happen. It ain't gonna be pleasant, but it ain't gonna be death." She's silent a few moments, eyes wander over the boys heads and out into the opposite trees, into the darkness beneath their needles. When she speaks again her voice is slower and more meaningful, there's a deep curiosity in it, and she speaks to Kevin only: "Why'd you do it?" she asks, uncomprehending and quiet. In case clarification is needed, she adds, in that same tone, "Why'd you tell them?"

"The Silver Fang lupus wants death. Justin seems to agree with her. The Alpha doesn't want to get involved. Do you really think enough people at the Sept will speak for me, and Kevin, to spare us? Either dead by our brothers hands, or sent out to fight a mission we can't win, is what they want." Basil murmurs, then glances at Kevin when Olga asks her question.

Kevin gives a laugh which contains amusement in imperceptible amounts, if at all. "Out east. Hell. To think we were planning to cut and run that way because we thought New York or somewhere might be more liberal... If we aren't executed outright, we'll probably be sent on some suicide mission, like Uriah the Hittite." Kevin pauses before answering Olga's question. "Olga," he finally says, "I can tell that you've never been in this position... which is a good thing. The guilt of it was... crushing me." He lifts one balled hand, wraps the other round it, and starts to squeeze as a demonstration. "After a month or so of it, there wasn't a minute it wasn't preying on my mind."

"Ain't going to happen," Olga answers Basil flatly, and she's going to say more when her face turns ashen-ugly, and the first sign of the crescent moon enters in the carved slit of her eyes: "Uh, no, Kevin, you're right," she says back at him, thick-voiced and repulsed, "I've totally never been anywhere close to your position. I's hoping that's why you didit, but there's other, worse reasons for it, and when I heard you talking to Emma just now, you had me worried." Her gaze is hard on the boy, her words are sharp. "You haven't given up, now, have you?"

"What can you do to stop it, Olga?" Basil asks with a sad smile, then turns to look at Kevin, lifting a hand to put it on his shoulder. "He wants to die honorably. He blames himself for everything that happened... And I did too, for a while. I'm sorry, Kevin. For the things I said. I don't blame you. I don't hate you. I forgive you, if you'll forgive me. If we should go to Gaia, it should not be with hate in our hearts."

"Nothing to forgive, Basil," Kevin says, sounding genuine. "I don't hate you, or Emma, or Vera, or the philodoxes. The only person I hate is myself, for my weakness in succumbing to temptation... to you. I'm not sure quite what Olga is driving at," he goes on, looking at the Bone Gnawer elder as though seeking enlightenment. "Have I given up? I don't know. I've given up hope of survival, for sure. But I still hope that in dying, I can redeem myself, and maybe help to redeem you too, Basil."

Olga's fingers tear pointlessly at the strip of bark she's plucked, as her eyes roll up to the bright blue sky. "Oi, by Luna," she complains, with exaggerated self-suffering, "you two sound like a couple of Gaians. I know you've had time to get all serene about shit, but this fatalism really fucking rankles." Her teeth grit, and she looks from Kevin to Basil, and then back: "Can you possibly think you really should die for this? You think that's the way to make things right?"

Basil clenches Kevin's shoulder tighter, then turns him around to look him in the eye as long as the Ragabash lets him do so. He then places his other hand on Kevin's opposite shoulder, looking rather sad but intent on the teen. "No." He says, then glances at Olga. "No." He repeats, then turns back to Kevin. "I do not want to die. I want to live honorably. I want to make up for what I did, to everyone I hurt, to the Tribe, to the Sept. That is the way to redemption. That is the way to better Gaia, not through death, or torture. Kevin, don't feel you need to die for me, please. I don't want you to die. Gaia doesn't want you to die. The people that love you don't want you to die. I will redeem myself, and you yourself. But dying isn't the answer." Basil's doing his best not to lose his voice, but there is a bit of strain in it.

Kevin looks slowly between Basil and Olga, plainly mulling the Ahroun's appeal to him over. "You want me to live?" he asks, slowly and in measured tones. "To live and know this guilt every day I stay alive? To live, and every time I see you feel a pain in my guts like a silver knife? We sinned against Gaia. How can you know what she wants, when her back is turned to you? Who do you think loves me now, after this?"

It's obvious, very very obvious, that what Olga wants more than anything is to simply reach across and slap the Ragabash across the side of the head. Her flat-palmed hand hovers in the air and it's only by a sweep of the eyes and a wrench of the shoulder that she's able to force it back down against the roughness of the bark. "Yes!" she practically shouts at him, even though the question wasn't addressed to him. "Yes we want you to live you cockroach-addled idiot, and so does She! What the fuck have those Glass Walkers been teaching you, anyway? Gaia wants you to live because Gaia is life, that's all she is and she doesn't want you to die in the name of anything - not honour, not peace, and sure as hell not your own God-damned ease of mind - not anything except for the cause of life itself. Gaia hasn't turned her back on you, you stupid idiot, you've turned your back on her, and not by fucking him -" here obviously she jerks a thumb at the Ahroun "- but by giving up on life and considering for even one small second that your death might be justified."

Basil smiles a little at Olga's outburst, but the smile soon falls from his face, a single tear starting to edge down the Ahroun's cheek. "Hate hurts Gaia. Misery hurts Gaia. All such things hurt Gaia. She is your mother, and like any real mother, she would open her arms even for a sinner. Even for the lowliest Garou. She loves all, the humans, us, the dirt beneath our feet. She loves even the things we fight. She asks us to protect the humans, even as they slowly kill her, and dirty her with every passing day. Dillen and Emma are so mad because they loved you. I was mad because I loved you. Masao was mad because she loved me. Plenty of people still love you Kevin, including me. And if we live, you should go back to that Kin. Hold her close to your heart if she'll forgive you. Protect her. Love her as Gaia loves you. Make her happy, and you'll hurt the Wyrm as much as any pair of claws."

"Hitting me wouldn't work," Kevin interposes in a matter-of-fact way. "Mathias tried that..." He sighs and awkwardly reaches out a hand to rest on Basil's shoulder. "I know you loved me. I loved you. I still do. I don't see how I could possibly ever feel this way about anyone else. I may be wrong," he goes on, looking at Olga again. "For my own sake I hope I am. Maybe as time passes I'll find my focus again. Find Gaia. But right now... I just feel as empty as the big bass drum... and about as prone to being beaten," he adds, with just a spark of wry amusement.

Olga continues looking very much like she wants to wring Kevin's neck: her hands come up, curling from fists to fingers over and over, though there's no real threat in them. "You - you kids! Do you really think you're alone in this, do you really think you're the first ones to get all hot and bothered for another Garou? What you did was wrong, yes, but no more wrong than a hundred other wrong things I'm sure you've done. Don't roll over on this, Kevin. Don't buy their shit. You can go on loving him - if your standards are really that low -" it's unclear where the humour is supposed to be, but by the glance she gives Basil it's clear it's supposed to be more joke than disdain "- if you really want. It won't be easy, but neither's life. You aren't the only charachs at this sept, kids, and I don't mean Salem here. You're just the only ones with the balls to admit it, and if I have to drag some skeletons out of some closets to get you saved, I will. But you had damned well better be willing to fight alongside with me, Kevin!"

Basil pats Kevin's shoulders, then drops his hands away from his body with a more genuine smile on his face than before, though it still echoes underlying sadness. "We'll live on in one way or another. But no, Olga. I don't think the Sept is ready to tolerate this sort of thing. Though I love him, I'd rather find a Kin, and not continue this." He turns to face Olga, sticking one of his hands in his pockets. "So you think there are other people charaching, but no one knows? What are you going to do, Olga? To what length are you going to go for us?"

Kevin finally shows some emotion as he boggles at Olga. "Not the only charachs? If this is a joke," he says, anger beginning to seep into his voice, "it's in very poor taste. If it's for real, then what the hell is everyone playing at? To blazes with saving me -- if you know about other charachs," he snaps, "then you must do something about it to save this sept and Gaia from their deeds!" He glares at Olga, now, his hangdog posture banished at least for the moment in favour of a confrontational stance.

"Well I'm not suggesting you keep on as butt-buddies, Basil-" Olga begins to retort, when Kevin's outburst draws her away from the Ahroun and his question and towards him and his accusation. "None of them are still at it," the Theurge answers him, tension and anger in her voice as well, along with some disdain and real offence. "It's history. Nobody'd benefit by airing it, so why would I? And you would do well to remember that Garou made that first law. Not Gaia, Garou. And the best way to save Gaia isn't by getting her warriors killed by their own kind!"

"What'll you do, Olga?" Basil asks, glancing sidelong at Kevin. "In any case, I would not drag anyone down with me, or want to. It's a selfish act, and... " Basil runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head a bit. "I don't know what I think about any of this anymore. But I do know that what the Philodox and Alpha say will probably fly."

"No doubt about that, Basil," Kevin says, his discontent lessening a little as Olga explains. "Well, I just don't know... What is the history of the Litany? It wasn't handed down on stone tablets, I guess..."

"Ask a Galliard," Olga snaps back at Kevin, her patience worn. "But I can tell you this much: it was Garou, not Gaia, who devised those things at Concord, and there weren't no Bone Gnawers invited, nor any real Glass Walkers, neither. And Basil," she says, turning to the Ahroun, cold-faced and sure, "I'm going to do whatever's gotta be done to keep two of Gaia's warriors - two of my friends - from getting killed, if that's the retarded judgement they hand down." She gets off the log in a jerk, hands stuffed in shirt, and without further word she drops to four paws.

"Thank you, mom." Basil murmurs, reaching out palm up to wave to her Lupine form, then glances at Kevin. "At least we're not totally alone in this."

"Wow," Kevin murmurs, impressed almost despite himself. "Maybe every man's hand isn't against us after all." He looks at Basil as though he's uncertain whether to dare let himself emerge a little from his gloom. "Funny how Olga gets through to you in a way that Silver Fang couldn't..."