[Karl Holds the Line] There comes a point where there is no more running. Where exhaustion is set so deep in bones that each step is fire. Even when given wings by their totem, exhaustion is an issue. Eventually. Perhaps he could have run longer. Further. But there was the simple truth of it. He had no where to run.
But he was faster then his alpha. He was more resilient then his packmate. It had given him some head start. The fact that he kept his mind shielded in the totembond, refusing to respond, making it hard to track him by that alone had perhaps helped. But in the end? He had no where left to go and no matter how hard he ran, he could not escape the thing in his mind. The memories or the taste of blood that would not leave his mouth.
They find him in the umbra. He has crawled into a hole created by some spirit or other in the web of the pattern. IT was dark, cramped. He barely fit. He was not small, even in lupus form. His midnight fur blended well into the strange umbral shadows.
But not well enough to hide him from his pack.
That is where they find him, body shaking, lips pulled back into a silent snarl as they approach.
[Mama Ankle-Biter] The totem link will flare up for Marni, she will hear the distress in Ankle-Biter’s thoughts, in her words as she begs the Ragabash to come help find Karl.
It will be a long run; it will be a harrowing chase through the penumbra. Fear and worry toiling through the back of her mind as she continues the chase. She is not as fast as Karl is, but she can keep up with him. Eventually, they are going to chase him down, his pack will find him in the city, and it will take awhile.
The black and gray speckled lupus prowls around the hole that the Rotagar hides in, her tail pressed down between her hindquarters, her ears flat along her skull. Rolling up when she registers the silent snarl at their approach.
‘Holds-the-line.’ Is all she says in the high tongue.
[Victor Oseragighte] Exhaustion becomes a state of being for Victor as they pursue Karl. He pushes himself past any reasonable limits. When at last he goes to ground Victor almost wonders if a touch of the fox hadn’t gotten into Karl, to set him hiding so. But no, he’d not be able to shield himself so effectively were that the case. This is him, all him, fleeing them, and he knows it. And a large part of him says that he should let Karl run and take off himself. But a larger part says that he’s pack, and Victor’s the half-moon, and it’s his damn duty to be there.
And so here they are. Outside his pitiful sanctuary. Victor half envies him it. He does not say anything yet, letting Mama make the intial effort, knowing that he himself is part of the problem here. But he won’t back off, either, waiting for his moment to speak up, supporting her with his mere presence as he slides slowly toward Glabro… no Hispo… no… he’s not certain what form to be in, truthfully, and finally settles on his birth form out of sheer frustration.
[Karl Holds the Line] ~GET… AWAY…~
The snarl is vicious. It is deep and from the chest, flashing teeth at his alpha as she draws close. His eyes are pale blue glaciers, burning. Even this close, his emotions along the totembond are weak, held tight to him. What they can sense is fear and loathing and anger all mixed into one. It is a good thing that he ran as hard, as fast as he did. That he spent the rage in him fleeing from them. There is no doubt that if he had still carried it within, it would have tried to lash out, and possibly sent him back into a frenzy.
Even with those emotions, approaching him is no easy task. The very core of the midnight black lupus is frightening to behold. Powered by his lineage and his anger, Holds the Line presents a very dangerous image, and fear grips the spines of his packmates when they face him, when they look at the beast that is the Norse Fenrir No-Moon.
[Mama Ankle-Biter] Cha+Leadership: talking him down
‘No.’ She does not cower in front of his anger, the vicious snarl or the flash of teeth. She moves forward slowly, her head lifting higher, looking right at him. She knows it is a good thing that he ran as hard as he did, spent the rage that burns hotly through him. At this moment, he would have likely frenzied and killed the small Gnawer. She keeps his agitation directed at her, taking everything in stride.
‘It ain’t ya fault, Karl, ya had no control over what was gone happen. It would have happened the longer ya stayed in that place. It was an exercise to test ya, to test Victor’s leadership for the challenges. Sorry it had to be done this way, but Mama knew none of ya would be in any real danger.‘
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 7, 7, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 5 at target 7) [WP] Re-rolls: 1
[Victor Oseragighte] (( Spending a point of WP to talk to the garou who killed him. ))
He looks to Mama and steps in beside her crouching but not getting too close. The fear is real for him, his recent ‘death’ all too fresh in his memory yet. He pushes through it, though, speaking quietly. Briefly.
“Killed me once today already. Not going to try again, are you? I… we both know it wasn’t you. It was the place. It was the Wyrm. Slipping in. Sneaky that way. Has to hurt. Can’t imagine how much. But it wasn’t you. I’m not blaming you. You can’t blame you.”
[Karl Holds the Line] His eyes flash at her. She moves forward, talking and he lunges, teeth snapping in the air in front of her nose, but she presses on, pressing him back, making him curl back into the hole. She presses him back with words more than anything. He could tear her apart. They know it well. Even as he sinks back, the rage in him lashes out, stress making it come alive. But not enough. Not all of it.
~To test…? You sent us… unknowing to the Battleground….~
The motion is to swift, too violent as he barrels out of the small hole, his form shimmering as he takes Hispo and barrels into Mama, knocking her smaller form to the ground, sending her crashing into the concrete. Her stamina and her gift protects her from the assault, but Karl stands above her, legs to either side, the massive head down over her, teeth bared and jaws parted as if ready to sink his fangs into her throat.
But he doesn’t. He is still in control, even as his rage grows just a little again.
~YOU SENT ME TO THE WYRM FOR A TEST?!!~
His gaze snaps up to Victor, fixing him with the cold blue stare. He fixes him, and then he shrinks back, stumbling back from Mama, from his packmate until he presses up against the wall again, shaking. There is no words in him for Victor. He could still taste the others lifeblood on his tongue. The salty copper that no amount of running could wash away. What can you say to your packmate who’s blood still stains your teeth?
[Marni] Marni got the call – but was farther away than she realized. She sent soothing thoughts back toward Mama, to Victor, even to Karl if he were to listen. She is well used to the city, the scab, the underbelly of streets and alleys and how to move short distances fast…
Especially in the umbra.
Especially in Lupus.
Even so – they arrive before she does. She arrives in time to see Karl bowl Mama over,s tanding above her in Hispo, snarling his threat, his fear, his anger… She arrives to see him stumble back, and watch Victor, even as she skids to halt, placing herself squarely between Karl and Mama.
She says nothing, not at first. She simply snarls her warning – then she is shaking off the fur of her lupine form, and sinking back into homid, where she remains, crouched in front of Karl, a brow arching slightly.
“If Mama deemed a test necessary, then it was so. That you fell was not her fault. That you attacked a packmate was not your fault. That you were momentarily weak – that is the fault of the Wyrm. That you allow yourself to be weak NOW – and snarl at your packmates? THAT is your fault. We are family. You are family.”
She moves forward, then, closing the distance between them. “You are pack. We are stronger together. Do not pull from us now. We will work it through together.”
[Mama Ankle-Biter] Physically, the Fenrir could overpower the Theurge, he was stronger and faster than her when it came to such. She was not built for combat, she was meant to deal with spirits, those were her strong points. Her weakness were easy to see, quick to decipher, she could so easily be overtaken and pulled down if one was good enough to get through her defenses. The only thing that saves the Gnawer is her gift, her tenacity for survival.
‘No!‘ she snaps back with a clack of teeth as they catch at the air, she was rolled onto her back, paws kicking at the air to brace at the black wolf that had towered over her. When Karl moves away, she twists and tumbles over onto her belly in a comedic display, once again on her feet. She pushes up, her ears flat along her head as she advances on him.
‘To test, yes. Unknowing…yes. It was a test to see how well ya’d handle a situation thrown before ya, to think quickly. Did not anticipate the outcome. Did not send ya to the Wyrm deliberately, would never do that.‘ She approaches him again, stalking around him to come up close to his side, cornering him against the wall. Hot air chuffs out of her nose against his flank, brushing the side of her muzzle into his fur. ‘Don’t pull like this.’
[Victor Oseragighte] Still in homid, Victor had been thrown back onto the pavement when Karl had made his lunge, skidding, swallowing, fingers flexing across the hard ground beneath him reflexively, blooding the tips with how hard they did so. He bit into his resolve, though, and did not let go as he pushed himself upright; the fact that he’d even been knocked off his feet so was a testament to how rattled he truly was.
Up to his feet he raised a hand, ran it nervously through his hair. There’s fear there, but that will pass, he knows. It has to.
He’d guessed where they were. So certain at first, then not certain at all, until Karl had attacked and he knew they had to subdue his packmate safely. That hadn’t exactly gone well, though. He stared down at Karl, at how he tensed, and finally managed words again.
“If you’re going to run… I’ll just have to chase you again. You know. Not going to stop. Stubborn that way. Probably too stubborn.”
[Karl Holds the Line] His head snaps back and forth between Mama and Marni, Marni and victor, Victor and Mama. The wall of thick webbing has him trapped even as his pack closes rank around him. It makes him shiver and shake. It brings a growl from his throat that dies as quickly as it came.
They touch him with noses and muzzle and they can feel the way every muscle in his body is tensing, shaking from the effort. And something else. This close, they can’t miss it. The feel of the Wyrm in him, deep within. The taint left by the Eater-of-Souls. It struggles with him, as if trying to break free once more. It had been given a way into the Fenrir.
~You are not safe… None of you are safe…~
[Mama Ankle-Biter] ‘That’s not true…‘ she whines, keeping herself against the other wolf, pushing into him. Her head bows down, sniffing at his shoulder, nipping at it gently.
~he needs to be cleansed… there is like a taint in him from falling~ her voice flickers over the totem link, her head canting to the side as they continue to calm him down.
[Marni] She snorts. So ladylike, Marni.
“We’re never safe. We’ll never be safe. We’re Garou.” She tips her head, curls sliding over her shoulders as she reaches out to brush her fingers through Karl’s fur along his shoulder. “We are not meant to die in bed, old and toothless, but to slide into the afterlife leaving skidmarks in the blood of our enemies yelling DAMN! WHAT A RIDE. THAT is what we are meant to do, to be. We do what we can, and do what we must. You will let us cleanse you. And you will let us in.”
There is an intensity there, even as she presses against the tight lockdown that he has on the totemlink, presses against the loyalty and connection they all share as Pack.
[Mama Ankle-Biter] (wits + rituals, cleansing)
The Gnawer brushes past Karl, she lets Marni speak to him, moving back a step as her body moves out of her four legged form. The gunnysack she always has appears, she promptly starts to dig through it, pulling out a bottle of purified water, a car antennae, and whatever else the Gnawer needs to perform the rite. She lets the others talk to him, as the Theurge went about her business to cleanse the taint from Karl.
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 5, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7) [WP] Re-rolls: 1
[Victor Oseragighte] There wasn’t anything he could say now that Marni and Mama hadn’t already. Well. Maybe one thing.
“Going to run from Moira too? Not going to work, you know that. Think it through, Karl. Doesn’t matter how scared you are. She needs you. Your pack needs you.”
That might salve Karl’s wounds. His own… were another story. He still hung back, not approaching as closely as Marni and Mama. There were limits, after all, to what he could do even in the name of duty, while he was still coming to terms with it himself.
[Karl Holds the Line] ~You should be safe from your pack. You should be able to trust your pack…~
His ice pale gaze turns to Victor, watching him as he growls and yips. The totembond between them still closed off. He can feel the sickness in him. Feel the Eater-of-Souls trying to push back into him. Then Victor brings up Moira.
Marni and Mama feel him tensing. They feel his body grow stiff. Feel his hackles rise. He had managed to avoid thinking of his mate, of their unborn in her womb. It makes that thing in him, the darkness rise up like bile in his throat, makes him gag again. Makes him growl even as he shakes his head to clear it of the visions. Clear it of the images of him with his muzzle buried in her abdomen, her body torn open for him to feast on the soft insides, the child inside of her.
The totembond is alive, showing them the images that the Wyrm plagues his mind with even as Mama works to cleanse him. Show them his revulsion and terror at it, and he is unable to stop those images from flooding his mind, flooding the totembond.
[Marni] Simple enough, that. Marni – soft, and homid, and with a baby growing and swelling within her belly, settles to sit with him, against him, nuzzling into the soft fur, the tense body, the raised hackles…
And softly, so softly… “I trust you.”
Even as the images assault her – even as some small hidden part ofher fears the wrym will someday do as he shows her… she still places herself at his mercy, pressing close against his battle ravaged skin and fur that covers a mind-fucked packmate.
“I am safe. I trust you.”
[Mama Ankle-Biter] “Stop it, Karl!” She snaps at him, her voice stronger now that it had been in the high tongue, she finishes the cleansing rite. The small blond drops the items into her bag, she knelt down in front of the black wolf, her small hands reaching out to grab a hold of his head, fingers digging deep into his fur to pull his face up. She stares into those pale blue eyes.
Her voice is commanding, stern as if he were a spirit that she was trying to bound to her will. “Those images ain’t real. Ya know this – snap out of it, baby. Ya won’t hurt ya mate, ya too damn stubborn to let that happen. Ya too damn honorable to kill Moira. It ain’t real – none…of…it.”
[cha+leadership: believe the gnawer, listen to reason…]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 5, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6) [WP]
[Karl Holds the Line] The rite finishes. Marni stays close to him, pressed against him. Mama grabs him by the head and snaps at him. Victor…. Victor doesn’t accuse him. Victor offers a support the others could not begin to match, simply by being there. That is why when the images finally fade. When the wyrm if pushed from his insides to give his mind some peace, it is not Mama or Marni he looks to first. But to Victor. To the man he nearly killed this night.
To the man he nearly killed because their alpha sent them into one of the most ragefilled places known to the garou without warning or without telling them. She had done it to test who would make a good beta. It had been Victors test. A test that cost Victor his life, even for a split second. That cost Karl his soul for the same period of time.
His massive form shiver and shakes as he begins to relax. As exhaustion begins to settle in. HE turns his muzzle then, huffing at Mama, then pushing his head gently against Marni. He stands wide legged, barely able to lift his head now. Each breath is long, deep and ragged. But he is calm again. Back in control. Scarred, but alive.
And Victor was alive. The memory of the taste of his packmate’s blood would remain with the Fenrir for quite some time. But where it was now a raw reminder of his own weakness, it would soon grow into a steely determination to never let it happen again. It would steel his mind, strengthen him. It would make him stronger.
For now however, the Fenrir leans on his pack. He trusts in their words, their strength. Even as his leg fold up under him and he falls to the umbral ground, asleep long before his muzzle strike the hard surface he knows that his pack will be there to watch over him. Darkness claims him, but this time, it is not the clawing terror of the wyrm inside him. It is simply exhaustion and weariness. It is the knowledge that he is safe among pack.
It is blessed sleep.
[Karl Holds the Line] [[And… sleepy time for me! I need to collapse. Thank you for scene and play, and thanks for ST’ing for us Shann. *snugs*))
to Mama Ankle-Biter, Marni, Victor Oseragighte
[Marni] He calms. It takes time, but he calms, and when he collapses, it’s the sleep of the exhausted, not the wyrmridden.
Marni does as she always will do – she stands guard, and watches her packmate’s back. For as long as it takes.
[Mama Ankle-Biter] She sits back on her heels, her arms pulling into her sides as she slides her hands across her lap, watching the black wolf as he collapses into much needed sleep. The exhaustion of their excursion wearing on all of them, both physically and emotionally. She says nothing else, arching an eyebrow at Marni as she sits, getting comfortable and opting to stay put until the Fenrir wakes up of his own accord.
Staying with him as a pack should.