Evie
Alecto was born and raised with her pack in Greece, where she was up speaking English alongside the traditional Greek. Her pack exchanged often with others in America, being one of the few connected to the outbranching areas where the Furies have spread. She grew up in a remote, wilder area near the border of a national park, amongst the ruins of the Ancient civilizations where she would often play. The ancient stones and towers held even more meaning to her as she gained age and insight, she trained upon them and danced among them, and they were often the center of a many a moot, even for the ceremonies of her own ascension to rank. Her mother was a Theurge, a young, pretty thing when she fell into bed one evening with a passing Strider. She conceived, and Alecto was born a furry ball of legs and feet, the perfect bundle of Rage. The Black Furies, being more lenient than most tribes on the birth of a mule, allowed Alecto to live and as punishment for her mother, the Judges insisted that she was to care for the little bedraggled pup, with everything that it meant. Alecto proved to be a 24/7 task. The two were showed in a small house alongside the Alpha's huge one. The alpha's kin-mate was understanding, even sympathetic to her plight, but the children would hear no end to it. Growing up is hard enough; growing up Metis is begging for issues. Alecto's mother resented her for taking away her freedom, but she did the best she could. The name “Alecto” was given to her a birth by her mother, after one of the Three Furies, goddesses, Alecto being the one of constant anger. For a Metis born Ahroun, it proved to be the perfect name.
As a right of Gaia, no Metis is born without deformities. Thus is true of Alecto. Her body looks normal enough in Homid form, albeit she is tall and slender, but in any other form her deformity begins to appear. Her legs are long and lanky, her feet larger and her tail elongated, giving her an almost puppy-ish appearance. When she was younger she was quite the clutz due to these deformities, but has since trained herself to overcome this obstacle and has achieved a level of decent balance and coordination, despite. It still gives her a certain comical look, however, and doesn't help in social situations. Alongside, her eyes never change from a shade of stormy, opulent grey in whatever form she takes, giving her an odd appearance as a human and even odder as a wolf.
Her first memory is of her mother thrashing her. She'd tried to sneak out of the house in lupus, she hated being cooped up. She was two, maybe three. Soon enough it was found that the best way to control her was to throttle her into submission, or to put out the fire in her Ahroun temper. She was allowed to roam eventually, however, and consequently was content to spend the majority of her time alone, her usual interactions being hostile ones with the other children her age
.
At six she seemed finally older enough to control herself. She was allowed to see the Caern for the first time, out in with two other cubs, both homids around the ages of 13. They seemed to be a little frightened about the six-year-old mule with the temper. Her mother told her she wasn't going to Rited anytime soon, though she had no idea what that meant.
The worst of her problems soon after, when she was sent to attend lessons with the other children in the pack from a Galliard and her mother who were placed as teachers. The Furies weren't about to let there young attend a human school, however remote it might have been. Alecto seemed to pick up quickly, with help from her Theurge mother, and her own powerful skill of observation. She also began to work with her future mentors, learning skills like balance and fighting techniques. She put these to apt use in her frequent brawls with the other cubs.
Alecto acquired her Homid name when she was 11, just before her mother was killed in a battle with the local Brujah. “Nyx” is the Greek's goddess of night, and “Calamokanos” is a nick-name her mother had called her since birth, meaning lanky-legged. The lessons continued despite, and soon “Nyx” was 13, and ready to be Rited.
Her task was nothing as satisfying as killing a leech, just going out and returning with the head of a Wyrm creature. If it had been a Full moon, she might have frenzied on the Ritemaster. She didn't though. She was no Athena, but she wasn't stupid…A metis doesn't survive without brains.
The gun fell into her hands a week later. She carries one with her wherever she goes now. Along with the firearm, she began training under another Ahroun called Pasiphae, one of her mentors, who tutored her to an acclaimed level with a pair of sharpened Sai, along with various knives. Guns though, guns are nice. She wasn't exceptional with the knives, and one has to get close to use Sai properly. Guns can be expensive, though, and Nyx had no way of earning her keep. So, around this time, she began hiring herself out to other packs, locally, to do certain grunt work. The work was tough, but the pay was good, and not always in money. She was making a name for herself.
She also started learning about her heritage from on of the Alpha's kin sisters, Pandora, and it was Pandora who most improved her balance by teaching her to dance. Greek dancing is a beautiful thing, and Nyx had the long body for it. The effects of it showed in her other skills as well, precision, refinement, and some semblance of grace.
She was finally ready to challenge for rank at the age of 18. She would “swear before a Judge” that they made it impossible for her to pass. For all their tolerance, they're still Garou, and metis are still scum. Eventually though, she did make rank. It was a hit on one of the Brujah that was making trouble for the Alpha's business. (She owned a vineyard, olive fields, and a decent amount of property) Killing a leech was sweet and even sweeter was finally passing. She was bestowed a Fetish, a pair of silver-tipped double Sai, deathly sharp.
But things have a tendency to hit the fan. All the looks…feelings that she may have gotten too big for her britches. And the angry Brujah…she began to understand why the Pack didn't just kill them.
She did, indeed, challenge again, for Adren, and would have won, in all fairness. But fairness is not something a Metis can ever know, and not something she would ever taste. She stuck around for as long as she could…nearly a year, learning things that a 3rd rank should, but it was the final disquiet... Nyx Calamokanos was ready to go it alone.
She chose the way of the Ronin, alone. Like others, when she left her Rite of Passage was disavowed, and her mark disguised. She made her way to the U. S., where she'd heard of promise and wide-open spaces, all throughout her younger days. She roams now, doing what she can, surviving and taking out a Wyrm tainted piece of vermin here and there.
She carries with her the vision of her mentors, the Fetish she finally won, and her temper. She wanders, has traveled, and is now here.
|
||