[Charlie] The park is crowded today. It’s the first nice day that the city has seen in a while, the clouds parted and the breeze warm, and people are all but leaping at the opportunity to get out of their homes and get some fresh air in between shopping excursions.
Charlie is laying on the grass in the sun, one bony leg bent at the knee, one bony arm slung over his eyes. Normally he wouldn’t even be up right now, wouldn’t have gone so far from Room 3 at this time of the day, but his dreams are keeping him awake. They’re restless. They leave him feeling more exhausted when he wakes up than he did when he went to sleep. They’re nebulous, unnerving affairs, likely influenced by the slew of deaths the city has experienced in the last month, and trying not to make too much of them is difficult for one born under a crescent moon. Yet he does try.
He jerks awake from his slumber, sitting up on his elbows on the dying grass, and reaches up to scrub at his face with the palm of one hand. In the distance he can hear children giggling, chasing each other around the playground, parents calling out and being ignored. He drops onto his back again with a sinus-clearing snort, and tips his head to watch the people passing by on the path. No one pays much attention to him. He’s too unnerving to bear looking at for very long.
[Joss Lehrer] She’s come to be known as the Godi that smiles, the oddly happy to be alive child of Fenrir. She plays tag in the park in the middle of the night with things only she can see, she swings on the swingsets, she plays in the water fountain like a child. Grownups shake their head, and think she might be ‘touched’ (…little do they know…) and children are drawn to her, because it’s rare an adult likes to play like a kid, and oh, the Spirits! They flock to her call whenever it is time to play…
Today is not such a day. Joss walks along the path, her hands tucked into the pockets of her skirts. Her steps are not light as usual, but rather slow, plodding things, meandering with no real intention to go anywhere specific. The Chicago breeze – ever present, and warm today – does not even lift her spirits, despite the occasional gust that tug at her skirts, play with her dreads. Her eyes are on the walk in front of her – no where else.
She walks because she needs to move, to remember, to stretch, to (getoverit) though much of her would be content to crawl back under her covers for a few more days(itwasntenough).
[Callie] *She’s walking through the park, just walking . . wherever she’s been with that battered and hard-worn backpack over one shoulder and the trailing threads from the hems of her jeans soaking up mud and whatever other dirt the city streets have to offer.
It’s hardly hit home yet how many have died in the last weeks. It still doesn’t seem real to think if Liam as she last saw him, at the Gathering . . and there have been others since then.
For once, the sleeves of her hoodie are tied loosely round her waist and her arms are bare to the sky. Avoiding the paths, the wandering people, the kids running randomly here and there . . she picks her way from point to point between them all.
And in this way she almost trips over Charlie, focused as she is on the moving shapes, his snort alerting her just in time*
[Charlie] A sudden shadow falling across his body has Charlie looking away from the path and up at the Fiann who nearly stepped on him during her meandering through the park. He turns his head and looks up at her with a curious frown on his face, then hitches himself back up onto his elbows before sitting completely upright, hauling his legs into a folded position as he centers himself.
“Hi,” he says.
Out of the corner of his eye, swishing skirts and long dreadlocks draw his attention. He hasn’t seen Joss since their attack on Master’s turf, since the Valet got away. He had barely been able to move after that, had just wanted to lay on the grass in the crumbling dream realm; it was only his deeply ingrained sense of self-preservation, his desire to live, that had him getting up off the ground and escaping with the rest of them. He’s been doing little more than just lying around for the last four days, sleeping at the Caern and attempting to regain his desire to keep moving.
He’s doing better, but he still manages to look terribly tired. It’s the sharpness of his cheekbones, the dark smudges under his eyes; he never looks like he’s getting enough sleep. It’s probably because he isn’t.
“Joss!” he calls, his voice hoarse from exhaustion.
[Joss Lehrer] Someone calls her name, a familiar voice, though it is cracked with exhaustion. It doesn’t register – not at first, so lost she is in her own thoughts. She almost passes them completely by before something nags and reminds her hey, someone said something, and she lifts her gaze.
He looks terribly tired.
She looks ready to drop, right here, right now.
There are circles under her eyes, eyes that are still puffy and red from emotional release. It takes effort for her to square her shoulders, to step off the path and join Charlie and Callie on the grass. It takes effort to keep her feet moving, and there is no effort spared to try and find her smile. Evan took it with him, holding it hostage for a while.
“Hey, Charlie.” She sinks to sit on the grass near him in a swirl of her skirts that she catches and tugs over her knees as she hugs them close to her chest.
[Callie] Hi . . *she takes a step back, giving him space, room to breathe. There’s a moment of heavy silence as she wonders whether he’s expecting an apology, sympathies, a joke? . . who knows. But there’s Joss and she doesn’t look much better than he does . . hardly surprising she supposes. Samhain was so recent, she has her own ghosts to contend with, if none so recent as theirs. With a sigh, she runs her fingers through that copper hair, darkened slightly by what might be dust, sweat . . anything really, but it lifts as she fingercombs, and sticks into spikes as she lets it fall again. And she says it again as Joss joins them* hi . .
[Charlie] There’s a reason why Charlie and Joss are both looking worse for wear and not wearing it very well. They’ve both performed more than their fair share of Gatherings in the last week alone, they’ve both lost brothers or friends, they’ve both drained their wills fighting an enemy whose defeat was, in the end, not in their hands. Joss’s loss goes deeper, is clearly hitting the homid-born young woman terribly hard. Then again, the Sept at large is not aware of Charlie’s relationship with Requiem for the Lost, does not know that he and Strikes With Valor were close to sharing a bond under Bear when he died.
Yet Charlie does not bear the weight of guilt that his sister or his elder are carrying around with them, the guilt associated with perceived failure. Maybe it’s because they’re both Fenrir, maybe it’s because they are both young, maybe it’s because they both feel more acutely than the metis does, but they are saddled with a burden that Charlie has either absorbed or left lying on the side of the road somewhere in his quest to continue on with his life.
Liam wasn’t the first loss he had felt. Art wasn’t the first packmate he had watched die. His days are just about numbered, unless he’s one of the ones doomed to remain living while watching all of his friends and packmates fall one by one. The kid tends to live as though he isn’t going to have a tomorrow, and living every day of one’s life like that can get to be pretty damned exhausting if one keeps it up for long enough.
Joss sits herself down next to the Fury, and Charlie reaches up to scratch at the back of his head. His hair has been shorn recently, his curls subdued and short. It makes him look older, having less hair on his head. No one in this city really knows how old he is. It’s questionable whether he himself knows.
That’s neither here nor there. Joss sits, Callie greets her, and Charlie watches the Theurge elder for several seconds with muted appraisal in his dark eyes before drawing a breath.
“You haven’t been sleeping,” he says.
[Joss Lehrer] She hasn’t been sleeping, he says, and there’s a pale ghost of the smile that would have shone at any other time. She lift a hand and scrubs it down her face, before resting her chin on her knees, and staring somewhere in front of her toes.
“Yeah. Every time I close my eyes I see…”
he falls, over and over in her mind, as she destroys the one who destroyed him just seconds too late. Always too late, over and over and over again..
She stops, and shakes her head, and sighs as fingers plug at the edge of her skirt, just for something to keep her fingers busy. She knows she’ll have to pull out of this, sometime… soon. But for now, she’s unsure exactly how.
[Drew Roscoe] It was fucking warm. In Illinois, mid-November, there should be snow dusting the ground, barren tree branches shaking in the cold wind, crushed, dead, and trampled brown leaves pressed into the earth and skittering across the pavement any time the breeze blows. And yet?
And yet the ducks are splashing in waters that would not cool, quacking at tourists come to town to cheer on their favorite sports team tomorrow. The sky was crisp and clear, the air a bit humid, the sun shining and warming the earth as though they were in Arizona rather than the midwestern United States. Drew had taken Basil out for a good long jog around the neighborhood previously, and after putting him inside she’d gone off for a romp on her own. She fully intended to enjoy the weather without having an energetic pup dragging her all through the park.
So the Get of Fenris Kinfolk was strolling through the part of the park that was less populated with tourists that gawked at landmark spots and monuments, and more populated with trees and thin, winding paths. She was dressed quite simply in a pair of cream colored capris and green polo shirt. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, her hands were in her pockets, and she was wandering close to a congregation of Garou, family and otherwise, that she wasn’t quite aware of.
[Callie] *She remains on her feet, standing just that arms length distance from where Joss drops down to sit beside Charlie. She doesn’t know the specifics of this tale, but she recognises the signs. Slowly, she crouches beside them, the bones of her shoulders making angles through the cloth of her t-shirt as she moves.
Words flit through her head, never making it as far as speech. There is nothing she can bring herself to say that doesn’t sound fatuous, facile, ridiculous in some way . . and she’s usually good with words.*
maybe this is a bad place to be . . .
[Charlie] The older spirit-talker considers the Fenrir’s profile for several seconds, watching her as she works the hem of her skirt, as she stares at the grass beyond her toes. This isn’t the first time he’s sat beside someone who has recently lost a packmate, but it’s the first time he’s sat beside someone higher-ranked and more powerful and found her at a loss for what to do in the wake of sorrow.
And that sorrow persists despite the pleasant day, despite the cheer and energy of the children several yards away, despite the fact that they are still alive and breathing and in full possession of the use of their limbs and brains.
Maybe this is a bad place to be, Callie says. Charlie glances over at her, tongue pushed into the back of his left incisor, then looks back at the Godi and clears his throat.
“You gotta find a way to get some sleep,” he says. “Brains ain’t designed to stay on all the time. Not the higher-level functioning parts, anyway. The parts that make you a person?”
Drew isn’t quite aware of the congregation of Garou, but the purity of her blood asserts itself on the breeze and briefly drags Charlie’s attention toward the path. The last time Charlie saw Drew, she was distraught, anguished, unable to stop herself from throwing punches at the wall as she tried to cope with the news that Charlie had brought Lonna. He hasn’t seen Lonna since then, either. He watches her for a handful of seconds, then returns his gaze to Joss’s profile.
“They need to rest, or you’ll go nuts.”
[Joss Lehrer] Else she’ll go nuts. That gets a bit of a smile, warmer than the rest. “Some’d say I was already there, ya know…”
She nods, though. She knows, and understands what he’s saying, but it doesn’t stop the things she sees when she closes her eyes, the heartbreak of an empty packhouse, or the sound of Randi screaming of Joss’ failure over and over in her mind, as she had the day she delivered the news.
She lifts a hand, and pushes back her dreads, and looks up at Callie, briefly. “It’s war. Everywhere is a bad place to be.” She looks away, and invariably finds Drew. She just looks at her for a while, her gaze piercing and direct before she drops her gaze back to the edge of her skirts and the string her fingers have plucked free.
[Callie] *on one knee, beside the two of them now, Callie nods agreement. Charlie’s right . . godi or not, no matter what her rank, this girl is on her way to a proper break down if she doesn’t get some sleep. Also, and at this thought Callie casts a careful glance around at the other occupants of the park, she says its war . . which is true, but this is a public place and even soldiers break down.* yeah . . but some are worse than others. And Charlie’s right . . everyone needs to sleep
[Drew Roscoe] You know that feeling you get when you walk past a group of predators and have eyes burning through you?
No? Let me describe it to you.
It’s like this: You’re minding your own business and the sun is shining and the world smells nice. The sun is warm on your skin and you’re certain that you’re going to live for a very long time. Then a cloud shifts, or you step into a grove where the trees arch over your head so thickly that the sunlight thins, then diminishes completely. The warm is whisked away with a short burst of wind and you’re left shivering and uncertain of where you just went. Then you feel like you’re being sized up, stripped free of clothes and defenses both. You’re helpless, you’re targeted, and you’re no longer certain that you’re going to wake up and have Cheerios for breakfast tomorrow morning.
That’s how Drew felt when Joss and Charlie looked at her, eyes sharp and intent, taking note of breeding, of potential, even if it is little more than a slight spark against flint, especially in contrast to so many other that have been found parading through the city. It stops her, stills, her, has the slight hair on her arms and the back of her neck standing up. She shivered, despite the unseasonable warmth, and turned to look into the trees. Brown eyes skipped back and forth, switching focus from close to distant before finding the source. Joss was looking at her, and they made eye contact for the briefest second before the Godi turned her attention back down to her skirt.
Drew didn’t know who that was, or who the red-haired girl was either. But she recognized Charlie. He was the ‘metis’ (she still didn’t really know what that meant) that had been there when Joe was dying, offered to help but was turned away. He was at the bar with Liam and Art (ouch). He was there, in the background, when Lonna broke the news about the Child of Gaia she’d cared so much for. Her brow creased a little, and she stayed put on the path, looking out into the shadows of the leafless trees at the group with curiosity and hesitation.
[Joss Lehrer] She nods, slightly. “I get tired enough, I’ll sleep. Maybe not well, but I will.”
There’s a breath, and she lifts her had to look at Drew as she hesitates, and just watches, before she just shakes her head. “Not gonna bite. Come over if you want.”
[Callie] *Joss draws her attention to the girl who is in turn watching them back. It’s not a face Callie knows, but that doesn’t stand for much, there are still plenty of folk in this city she doesn’t recognise. Callie sits back on the heels of her peeling sneakers, and waits, hands stuck in the tied-together sleeves round her middle, to see if the girl will approach.*
[Drew Roscoe] Joss, though nameless in Drew’s head and automatically labeled as the ‘girl with dreadlocks’, called for her to come over if she so wished. They’re not gonna bite, after all. Her gaze shifted from Joss to Callie to Charlie, then back. Her fingers wiggled in her pockets, her jaw worked on the edges of her tongue, and she turned to face into the mess of bare trees, dead leaves and crunchy grass where the Garou were meeting. Or, well, a Garou and some people that he was okay with, for as far as she was aware.
She pulled a single Starburst square out of her pocket, an orange one, unwrapped it and popped it in her mouth to chew on, then tucked the wrapper away. More consideration. More possible/probable conversation turns. Then a note of ‘oh fuck it’, and she’s stepping off the path, canvas sneakers crunching leaves underneath as she approached.
[Joss Lehrer] Drew takes her time making her decision, then finally steps off the path. If Joss thinks anything of her hesitation, she doesn’t mention it. Between the three of them, Callie, Charlie and Joss, the rage is thick enough to be noticed by the Fenrir kin.
She doesn’t know Joss by name… but Joss knows her. By name and (lack of) deed.
“Your Drew, right? Joe’s girl.”
[Imogen Slaughter] It is a gorgeously warm even if it’s overcast. A night be out, even if it is after dark. Her hands are slid into the pocket of her light cloth coat, and her steps are even, steady on the pathway.
Her breeding precedes her, a different tone to Drew’s. A different smell, a different sense. Imogen has abandoned her tribe, but she carries the blood with her, an indelible mark, much like the Fianna glyph that is inked into her flesh beneath her clothing.
Garou recognize her easily. They know her blood.
There is a gathering just off the path – Joss has called out to Drew, who approaches after several seconds. Imogen closes the distance near to where Drew had once stood – but pauses briefly, reaching into her hand-bag to retrieve her cigarette case, her lighter. She lights up, the flame from her zippo, the flame flickering orange light over her pale features.
[Charlie] It’s almost as though the city heard Callie, as though Fate is laughing at them. That’s the only explanation for what happens next, for the sudden rending of the beautiful afternoon.
Something was watching them, or waiting for them, or tracking them. Something knows that they’re here. They are unaware of the something, are not paying attention to the other side because all of their concerns seem to be centered on matters in the realm, on those who have left them, on what they are not doing to take care of themselves. On what they need to do. There would be no way for them to prepare themselves for what was about to happen, but the opposition cares not for inconvenience, for whether it is interrupting, whether the Gaians need time to recover and recuperate and regain their equilibrium before the next strike, before the next fatal blow.
A loud pop! sounds out in the peaceful afternoon air, and twenty yards away from the Garou, at the edge of the playground, appears a nine-foot-tall, glyph-tattooed monstrosity, fur matted and scabs dried in places. A loud roar leaves the tainted one’s throats, and a chorus of shrieks and screams rise up from the playground, from the path Drew is leaving. In rapid succession, one then two then three more bodies, these ones in their terrible dire wolf forms, appear from across the Gauntlet, tearing straight for the Garou.
They have little time to prepare. They should always be prepared. They are Garou.
[I’ll give you guys one round to activate Gifts/talens, load guns, pray, whatever you need to do. When you’re ready, roll inits.]
[Joss Lehrer] She is watching drew, but her eyes snap to the appearance of the others, the howl, and she surges to her feet. She yells at Drew, at Imogen. “BEHIND US. NOW.”
There is no room for discussion – as she marshalls her will to resist the pain about to come, and summons her gift to help as well.
(-1wp: resist pain
-1 gnosis: Troll skin. Rolling as homid: Sta+PU=4)
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7)
[Drew Roscoe] Drew was partway to where the Garou were, perhaps ten feet away, and Joss had looked up at her, studied her for a second, then identified her. Petite brunette with a drop of Fenris in her, with a lithe athletic build, a cute face, and an aura about her that was as warm and welcoming as a mother’s bosom or a fireplace in a winter cabin. Drew Roscoe, the Long Shot, the troublemaker, the pain in the ass, the kin that couldn’t be worth it. Joss asked to confirm, Joe’s girl?
Drew blinked, then grinned just a bit and shrugged one shoulder. “In a sense. And y–”
But she was silenced by a loud pop!, and her head jerked to look toward a playground not too far away.
Monsters. Like the Garou, but mottled, tattoo’d, scabbed, sickly and horrifying in a way that meant they couldn’t possibly be the same as her defenders, family and friends.
Behind us, now!
Drew didn’t need to be told twice. Her rubber soles bit into the dead leaves, kicking them up behind her as she rushed to put the group of Garou between herself and the beasts that had manifested. As she went, though, ever-ready, a pistol was drawn from the small tote bag she’d had slung over her shoulder, a beige colored thing with white hearts detailed onto it. The contents were lunch, snack, and weapon. You just never know.
[Callie] *It’s the howl, and Joss’ instant response that alerts her. There is nothing she can do to prepare, nothing more than Gaia’s own gift to them all. Half-hidden as she is behind the godi as she springs to her feet, Callie shifts to glabro and then moves around to form part of the shield that will stand between the kin, and the monstrous form in the playground*
[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen turns sharply toward the sound of the howl, her hand moving beneath the fall of her coat. Any sound her holster makes as she unclips her gun is lost in the order from Joss, in the rustle of activity.
Her gun at her side she moves – wide to avoid making herself an obstacle between the Gaians and herself and toward Drew. The gun is black and heavy in her hand and she waits, thumbing the safety off her weapon.
[Drew Roscoe] [Init + 5]
[Drew Roscoe] [Try again.]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3
[Callie] Dex+Wits=6
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7
[Joss Lehrer] (inits + 7 – still homid)
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9
[Charlie] [Charlie
Snap-shift to Crinos
+7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1
[Imogen Slaughter] 9
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1
[Charlie] [Azathoth, +7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2
[Charlie] [Nyarlothotep, +6]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5
[Charlie] [Yog-Sothoth, +6]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2
[Charlie] [Hastur, +6]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2
[Charlie] [ROUND ONE — FIGHT!
Joss: 16
Callie: 13
Nyarlothotep: 11
Imogen: 10
Azathoth: 9
Charlie: 8
Yog-Sothoth: 8
Hastur: 8
Drew: 8
Declare in reverse order. 3-minute limit on declares/rolls. Go go go go!]
[Drew Roscoe] 1a. Shoot Hastur
1b. Shoot Hastur again, headshot [WP]
[Charlie] [Hastur
Action: Bite Joss.
R1: Bite Her ‘gain!
Yog-Sothoth
Action: Bite Joss.
R1: Bite Her ‘gain!
Charlie
1a: Claw Azathoth.
1b: Claw Azathoth.
R1: Claw Him Again!
Azathoth
Action: Body Tackle Joss.]
[Imogen Slaughter] Split actions to ways. Target is Hastur.
3 rb
fire. (WP)
[Charlie] [Nyarlothotep
Action: Bite Charlie.
R1: Bite Him ‘gain!]
[Callie] Shift to crinos
Bite Yog-Sothoth
[Joss Lehrer] [Fuckmerunning. Kahseeno? Remember that time? With the lips? and the ass kissing? thank you in advance!
Declare: 2 rage, split first action. 1 Rage, snapshift to hispo
1a: bite Yoggie Bear
1b: bite Again
1r: bite DIE FUCKER. ]
[Joss Lehrer] 1a: Bite: dex + brawl + hispo = 4+2+2 = 8 – 2 for split, 6 diff 5 reroll 10s
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7 (Success x 3 at target 5)
[Joss Lehrer] Damage: str+ hispo + bite (+ EM) = 3+3+2 (+3) = 11 + (2)
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 6, 6, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Yog-Sothoth
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 8, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Joss Lehrer] HAIL KAHSEENO!!!
1b: Bite: dex + brawl + hispo = 4+2+2 = 8 – 3 for split, 5 diff 5 reroll 10s
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 5) Re-rolls: 1
[Joss Lehrer] Damage: str+ hispo + bite (+ EM) = 3+3+2 (+3) = 11 + 2
CHOMP! HAAAAAAAAIL!
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Yog-Sothoth
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Callie] Bite: Dex+1 & Brawl = 6 dice TN5
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 9 (Failure at target 5)
[Charlie] [Nyarlothotep
Action: Brawl+Dexterity (+2): Bite Charlie.]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 5)
[Charlie] [Damage: Strength +3 (Hispo) +5 (suxx).] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Charlie
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Imogen Slaughter] 9(dex+firearms)+3(3rb)-2 (split)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 5, 5, 7, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Imogen Slaughter] Damage. HAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 6, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Hastur
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Imogen Slaughter] 9-3+WP
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6) [WP]
[Imogen Slaughter] HAIL KAHSEENO
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 4, 5, 5, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Hastur
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Azathoth
Action: Brawl+Dexterity (+1): Body Tackle!
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 7)
[Joss Lehrer] Dex+ath+hispo=8 d 7
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 5, 5, 8, 8, 8, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 7) Re-rolls: 2
[Charlie] [Damage: Strength +4 (Crinos) +0] [B]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 5, 6, 6, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Joss Lehrer] SOOOOOOOOOOAK!
Soak: Sta + hispo (+TS) = 3+3 +(TS) = 6 +2 = 8
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 5, 5, 8, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Charlie
First Split Action: Brawl+Dexterity (+1): Claw Azathoth. -2 pool (split).]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 4, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Damage: Strength +1 (Bear) +4 (Crinos) +2 (suxx).] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Azathoth
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Charlie
Second Split Action: Brawl+Dexterity (+1): Claw Azathoth. -3 pool (split).]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 6, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Damage: Strength +1 (Bear) +4 (Crinos) +2 (suxx).] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Azathoth
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 7, 7, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Yog-Sothoth
Action: Brawl+Dexterity (+2): Bite Joss. -1 pool (wound penalties).]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 5)
[Charlie] [Damage: Strength +3 (Hispo) +2 (suxx).] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 5, 5, 7, 7, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[Joss Lehrer] Soak: Sta + hispo (+TS) = 3+3 +(TS) = 6 +2 = 8
SOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAK!
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 6, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Hastur
Action: Brawl+Dexterity (+2): Bite Joss.]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 3, 3, 5, 5, 5, 6 (Success x 4 at target 5)
[Charlie] [Damage: Strength +3 (Hispo) +3 (suxx).] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 7, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[Joss Lehrer] Soak: Sta + hispo (+TS) = 3+3 +(TS) = 6 +2 = 8
SOOOOOOOOOAK HAIL KAHSEENO! I’ma sacrifice JAMIE! I SWEAR!
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Drew Roscoe] [Action 1: Shoot Hastur // Dex + Firearms, -2 split]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 4, 5, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Drew Roscoe] [Damage 1: Base 6 (L)]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 5, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Hastur
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 6, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Drew Roscoe] [Action 2: Shoot Hastur in the HEAD // Dex + Firearms, -3 split]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 6 (Failure at target 8) [WP]
[Charlie] [Nyarlothotep
R1: Brawl+Dexterity (+2): Bite Charlie.]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 5, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 5)
[Charlie] [Damage: Strength +3 (Hispo) +5 (suxx).] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 6, 6, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 8 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Charlie
Soak you fucker!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 5, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Charlie
1WP: Activate Resist Pain.
R1: Brawl+Dexterity (+1): Claw Azathoth.]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 4, 6, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Damage: Strength +1 (Bear) +4 (Crinos) +0] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Azathoth
Jesus Christ.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Callie] Dex + Wits = 7
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4
[Imogen Slaughter] HAIL KAHSEENO
+9
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4
[Charlie] Immediately, Gossamer Wing sinks her teeth into one of the charging Hispo Spirals, tearing through its shoulder girdle and sending blood spraying onto the grass. Walks the Line lunges but fails to get ahold of the bloody, snarling tainted one, and Lights Out just barely avoids having his leg torn off by their Full Moon.
Shots ring out behind the Garou, Imogen leveling her gun and firing off three quick bursts followed by a single shot, but her bullets merely graze the flesh of her female target; she keeps charging.
Their Galliard makes a flying attempt to knock the dire wolf Fenrir into the ground, but he doesn’t do much more than give her a large bruise on her side. That will not be the wound that takes her down. A duet of blows come from their Theurge and their Ragabash, the former tearing through Joss’s side and the latter grabbing her by the throat, slashing through tough, foul-tasting skin and fur and flesh and dropping her in a pile on the crisp, dying grass. She is not dead, is not even close; she is Fenrir. This will not be the wound that kills her.
The crowd has dispersed by now, children picked up and strollers pushed at great speed, and there is no one around to see Drew fire off two shots that fail to hit their target. A moment later, moving as fast as the bullets spat from the ends of the two females’ pistols, the Ahroun unzips the metis like a suitcase, spilling his intestines onto the ground and nearly dropping him to his knees. The pain fails to stun him; he calls on some inner gift to swipe at the largest of the Dancers, but his claws do no good.
[Joss and Charlie get back 1 Rage each. Reroll inits, s’il vous plaît! Everyone is at +1 due to two Garou just getting their shit wrecked.]
[Joss Lehrer] Inits hispo +9
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10
[Joss Lehrer] (with +1 =20)
[Charlie] [Charlie, +8]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7
[Imogen Slaughter] +1 = 14
[Drew Roscoe] [Init + 5 + 1]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10
[Charlie] [Azathoth, +7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5
[Charlie] [Nyarlothotep, +6]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3
[Charlie] [Yog-Sothoth, +6]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8
[Charlie] [Hastur, +6]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2
[Charlie] [ROUND TWO — FIGHT!
Joss: 20
Drew: 16
Charlie: 15
Imogen: 14
Yog-Sothoth: 14
Azathoth: 12
Callie: 11
Nyarlothotep: 9
Hastur: 8
Declare in reverse order, weeeooo!]
[Charlie] [Hastur
1a: Run Behind Gaians.
1b: Grapple Drew.
Nyarlothotep
Action: Bite Charlie.]
[Charlie] [Hastur is spending 1 Rage to shift to Crinos.]
[Callie] Intercept Hastur, bite
[Callie] ok, redeclare. Intercepting Hastur
1) bite Hastur
2) claw Hastur
[Charlie] [Azathoth
Action: Claw Callie.
Yog-Sothoth
Action: Bite Joss.]
[Charlie]
[Imogen Slaughter] Split actions x 4
Fire
Fire
Fire
Fire(WP)
Hastur.
[Charlie] [Charlie
Action: Mother’s Touch Joss.]
[Drew Roscoe] [Action: Holy fuck, keep away from me crazy bitch!
Headshot on Hastur!]
[Joss Lehrer] Reflexive (thanks ST) toss bag at charlie, yell “MOON SIGNS.” Trusting he’ll understand.
2 rage, split first action.
1a: bite yogi
1b: bite yogi
1r: bite Aza
2r: bite Aza
(subject to adjustment according to when she is actually up and swinging)
[Joss Lehrer] 1a: Bite: dex + brawl + hispo = 4+2+2 = 8 – 2 for split, 6 diff 5 reroll 10s
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 5)
[Joss Lehrer] COME ON KAHSEENO! GIMME SOMETHING TO LOVE!
Damage: str+ hispo + bite (+ EM) = 3+3+2 (+3) = 11 + 2
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Yog-Sothoth
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 6, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Joss Lehrer] 1b: Bite: dex + brawl + hispo = 4+2+2 = 8 – 3 for split, 5 diff 5 reroll 10s
Yogi is incap – will coup de grace later. Switching to Aza. +1 diff
Come on KAHSEENO! GIMME SOMETHING TO LOOOOOOOOOOVE!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Joss Lehrer] Damage: str+ hispo + bite (+ EM) = 3+3+2 (+3) = 11 + 2
We’re loving 13 – HAAAAAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Azathoth
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 6, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Drew Roscoe] [Shoot Hastur in the goddamn head // Dex + Firearms]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 6, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Drew Roscoe] [Damage: Base 6 + 3 Headshot + 4 Suxx (L)]
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 5, 5, 7, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Charlie
1 Gnosis: Activate Mother’s Touch.
Action: Intelligence+Medicine (+3): Heal Joss.]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 4, 4, 4, 6, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 9 at target 4) [WP]
[Imogen Slaughter] A war formed Garou charges toward the kinfolk. Drew fells it with a well placed shot.
Imogen doesn’t hesitate. She turns on her heel and takes aim for the next target.
Fires while her ears ring and her mind mentally counts down every bullet.
(Fourteen.
thirteen.
twelve
eleven.)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 4)
[Imogen Slaughter] Damage. HAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Nyarlothotep
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Imogen Slaughter] fire 2
HAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 2, 5, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Imogen Slaughter] damage
HAIL!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Nyarlothotep
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 5, 6, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Imogen Slaughter] Fire 3
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 4, 5, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Imogen Slaughter] Damage!
HAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 2, 7, 7, 7 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Nyarlothotep
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Imogen Slaughter] HAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6) [WP]
[Imogen Slaughter] Damage.
Hail Kahseeno!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6 (Failure at target 6)
[Charlie] [Yog-Sothoth
Incap!]
[Charlie] [Azathoth
Action: Brawl+Dexterity (+1): Claw Joss. +1 diff (changing targets).]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 7)
[Charlie] [Damage: Strength +4 (Crinos) +3 (suxx).] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 5, 5, 6, 8, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Joss Lehrer] SRSLY? FUCK YOU. HAAAAAAAAAAIL KAHSEENO! YOU CAN HAVE KAI!
Soak: Sta + hispo (+TS) = 3+3 +(TS) = 6 +2 = 8
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 2, 6, 7, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[Callie] changing target to Nya
Action 1 – bite
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 2, 5, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6) [WP]
[Callie]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 5, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Nyarlothotep
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 4, 6, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Callie] Action 2 – claw
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7) [WP]
[NPC Callie] Damage: Crinos Str+ 1
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 5, 5, 7, 7, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Nyarlothotep
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Nyarlothotep
Action: Brawl+Dexterity (+2): Bite Charlie. -2 pool (wound penalties).]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 4, 6, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 5)
[Charlie] [Damage: Strength +3 (Hispo) +2 (suxx).] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Charlie
Soak, fucker!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 5, 5, 7 (Failure at target 6)
[Charlie] [Charlie
Rage revive. Don’t pussy out on me, Smith.]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 5, 7 (Success x 1 at target 8) [WP]
[Joss Lehrer] Hey Aza? DIE! HAIL KAHSEENOOOOO!!!!!
Bite: dex + brawl + hispo = 4+2+2 = 8 diff 5 reroll 10s
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 5) Re-rolls: 1
[Joss Lehrer] I can deal with 13! I”MA GIVE YA KAI IN A LITTLE BOW EVEN, KAHSEENO!!
Damage: str+ hispo + bite (+ EM) = 3+3+2 (+3) = 11 +2
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 3, 4, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Azathoth
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 5, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Joss Lehrer] Changing to NYA for last rage action – +1 diff, will coup de grace others later!
Hey NYA! CHOMPITY MOTHERFUCKER!
Bite: dex + brawl + hispo = 4+2+2 = 8 diff 6 reroll 10s
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Joss Lehrer] DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIE! SRSLY.
HAIL KAHSEENO! KAI IN A RED SATIN BOW!
Damage: str+ hispo + bite (+ EM) = 3+3+2 (+3) = 11 + 4
Dice Rolled:[ 15 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[Charlie] [Nyarlothotep
Nooo I want to liiive!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8 (Failure at target 6)
[Charlie] After one of the Garou has her throat all but torn out and the metis has his intestines spilled on the ground, it seems as though the situation has taken a turn from terrible to catastrophic. The kinswomen, however, are not afraid. They do not quaver or quail, do not hide behind the massive war machines and dire wolf and hope for the best. They stand their ground, and they fire a volley of shots, their resolve only strengthened by the realization that if they don’t do something, they’re all going to die.
Drew Roscoe, nicknamed Long Shot according to one of the trophies currently hanging in the Caern, levels her hand cannon at the Spiral that darts around the incapacitated Fenrir Godi; her head disappears in a monumental spray of blood and gray matter, dropping the wretched thing twitching and spurting blood in its human skin on the ground. Particles spray Lights Out as he drops to his knees on the ground beside Gossamer Wing, laying one great paw on her upper chest and suffusing her with a glowing warmth that knits up every last trace of her brutal injuries in a matter of seconds.
She is on her feet immediately, tossing a bag to Lights Out and lunging at the Spirals’ Theurge. She tears his arm clear off, blood leaving his body in a torrent, and he drops to the ground in a state similar to his sister, jerking and thrashing and unable to move. Gossamer Wing turns her attention to their Ahroun, returning the favor and ripping through his belly with a gnash of her fangs.
Behind them, Dr. Slaughter fires off a quartet of shots that whiz past the Spiral Theurge as it rears back to attack the metis again. They graze his flesh and singe his hair, but fail to penetrate his hide. The Ahroun swings at Gossamer Wing, but his claws seem to simply bounce off of her grotesque armor. This is not the case for the Fianna Ragabash, the smallest of the Garou: she lunges forward, tearing a chunk out of the Spiral Theurge’s throat, and her claw rakes across his chest, opening angry red mouths in his flesh.
It’s not enough to stop him, though. He surges forward, grabbing Lights Out by the hip and wrenching his head. The Fury’s entire right leg separates from his body with a sick, wet CRACK, and he falls, unconscious and wholly dead. It’s only by force of will, by a profound desire to live, that Lights Out, Charlie to the humans, claws his way back into the land of the living. He lies on the ground in his birth form, bleeding profusely and shaking from Rage and pain, but he does not get up again. He can’t.
Gossamer Wing finishes the fight in two bites, leaving their Ahroun with a bubbling cavern in his neck and their Theurge entirely relieved of his head. When the fight is over there are four human bodies in various stages of death and dying, and a Crinos Gaian rasping with every breath. The kinswomen’s ears ring, the world roaring as if they’re passing through a tunnel, and claws and teeth drip with blood.
They’re still alive.
[Doo-doo doo doooo doooo doo, doo doo! Everyone regains 1 WP! We’re done with combat! Azathoth, Yog-Sothoth and Charlie are incap, but everyone else is OK!]
[Imogen Slaughter] The silence in the break of the battle is deafening. Her ears are ringing. Imogen’s eyes move over the bodies, the beasts – and sees a chest move, laboured with breath.
She steps forward – slowly at first, but more swiftly as the seconds pass.
There is something about killing an enemy when it’s down which is ruthless, heartless and cold. Honourless. These are not things that occur to Imogen.
What does:
The smell of blood, the smell of gunsmoke. The ringing in her ears. The stink of viscera, the damp humidity in the air. It is still utterly warm.
Her gun is black and huge in her slender hand.
A war-formed Garou’s head is huge, misshapen, hideous and unlike anything else she’s seen. She rarely sees it up close like this. The fur is like wires, the snout is wrong for a dog or wolf. The eyes are shut, and while with her ears are too muffled to hear the breathing, she can see the rise and fall of the massive chest, the way the beasts breath stutters and falters, then comes back again.
Part of her, briefly, considers what she could learn from a creature like this. Its body while it is intact.
The report of her gun is muffled. The war form beasts skull distorts abruptly as the bullet changes the geography of the brain, forcing grey matter into bone, and then bone into ground. Then bullet into ground.
Eleven.
There is another.
She takes care of him too.
[Imogen Slaughter] Ten.
[Joss Lehrer] It had looked dire for a brief few moments, before they had rallied and continued to fight. The enemy falls, one by one, and Charlie falls too. After the last of the Spirals fall beneathe her jaws, there is the report of gunfire, muffled as Imogen follows in her wake to finish off those left dying yet not dead.
Joss whips her head around as the first round goes off – blood and gore flinging from jaw and fur, before she notes what is happening, and then hurries to Charlie’s side.
She drops to her knees, sinking into human skin as she does so, and checks over the worst of his wounds, before centering herself, touching the man who healed her just moments ago. She centers herself, focus’ her will, and lets the Touch of the Mother flow through her fingertips into him.
(MT – int+med=5 diff 3 + wp)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 3) [WP]
[Drew Roscoe] Let it be known that Drew didn’t revel in battle. She wasn’t a Garou or an Ahroun for that matter, she didn’t spin to face combat with teeth bared, lips peeled back in some sort of wicked grin, adrenaline pumping deliciously throw her veins and fingers itching for the kill. Neither did she face it with the cool, matter-of-fact sort of demeanor that Imogen Slaughter set up against so many things, including the beasts that she leveled her gun at today.
Drew was young and relatively inexperienced, even if her name did hang on the Wyrmpole at a Caern she knew nothing about.
The monsters surged forward immediately two of her defenders were torn down to the ground in a spray of blood that splashed all along her front, from shins to face. She reeled back, heavy Colt Anaconda lifting in front of her, held with two hands to support the large revolver’s weight, and fired twice. One shot knicked the thing she aimed at, the other missed entirely. Fuck, two bullets gone to waste.
It was impossible to keep track of everything happening around her. She was weak flesh in the midst of knobby callous-made armor, fur, blood and fangs. Stumbling backward, away, trying to put distance between herself and the fray so she wouldn’t be caught by an errant sweep of claws. Something caught her eye, and she focused on one of the monsters, one staring at her, cackling like a hyena as it charged right for her.
Drew made a yelping noise of terror and took aim. This wasn’t bravery, this wasn’t glory or guts or heroism. It was survival, plain and simple. And it was that want and need to survive that splattered the thing’s head and had it dead before it hit the ground and stopped sliding.
More blood, more battle, and one of the Garou in particular went batshit crazy through the flurry of bullets that Imogen fired hard-faced upon a foe. Before Drew knew it, everything was still. Five things dead or very close to on the ground, one of them without scabs or horribly mottled fur or twisted features. A good guy. Everyone else was okay, and Imogen was putting bullets in the heads of those that still needed to die.
Drew, with shaking hands, wiped her gun off on the thigh of her pants (why not? they were ruined anyway), and edged uncertainly toward Charlie, even though there was nothing she could do for him and Joss, i.e. the girl with the dreadlocks that knew Joe, was already helping him.
[Charlie] Right now, the Fury Theurge’s Rage overpowers just about everything else within him. He is practically shaking with the force of it, would be seeing red were he not lying in a pain-filled heap on the grass, and it isn’t until his hip is pulled back together and his intestines disappear back behind his skin, leaving behind a weeping, ragged tear running from side to side.
A snarl leaves the metis’s throat when his eyes open, and his massive paw grabs a hold of Joss’s wrist and forearm. After a moment of resting he seems to realize that Joss is not trying to kill him, that she’s trying to fix him; while he releases her arm, he does not relax. He takes a few ragged, rumbling breaths, and then burns off some of his fiery anger to return himself to his human skin.
His jeans are torn where his leg briefly left his body; his t-shirt is ripped where his intestines had slipped through. He is saturated in his own blood, and he’s pale from the shock of pain assailing his system if even for a few moments. Charlie swallows, thickly, looking up at the Godi and the young–“young”; they’re the same age–kinswoman before looking at the palm of his trembling left hand. It’s slick with blood. He hefts out a breath, and lowers his hand to the ground to wipe his palm on the slick grass several times.
“Is everyone alright?” he asks, seeming calmer than he was a moment ago.
[Drew Roscoe] Joss stitched the man back together, and Drew stared in that silent, reverent wonder that overcame her every time she saw Garou doing what she called ‘spirit tricks’. Healing seemed to be the most common one, and the most useful. It’s saved more lives than she really knew only in a span of weeks. She could have sworn that Charlie’s leg was separated from his body just a second ago, because through all of the blood slick in his pants where they tore, around Joss’s kneeling form, she could have sworn that she saw a dip where there was simply nothing– no bone, no flesh, nothing.
But then he’s looking around, wiping his hand on the grass, and asking if everyone’s okay.
This had Drew barking out a trembling, nervous laugh and hugging her arms around herself, chilled despite the warm air and the hot blood still dripping its way down her face. “You kiddin’ me? We’re pros, man. All Stars. You okay?”
[Imogen Slaughter] She draws a breath and steps away from the body, her eyes lowering to it as it slowly recedes to homid, her eyes captured by the improbability of it all.
She turns away and moves back toward the group – in time to hear Charlie’s question.
“None th’worse fer wear,” she answers, casting a glance toward Drew, then to Joss.
“Suppose we’ll need yer truck no, won’t we?”
[Imogen Slaughter] (uhh.
“Suppose we’ll need your van now, won’t we?”)
[Joss Lehrer] She doesn’t flinch when Charlie grabs her arm, though she does tense. She waits while he puts it all together, figures out who she is, where they are, and his eyes clear. She nods. “Yeah. We’re good.”
Then she looks up at the hovering Drew. “Clean up. That means ya ain’t leave nothing behind, like you did at the club. That woman there saved our asses with that one. So go ask her what she needs help with to take care of this.” Everything is an object lesson. There’s a beat and then. “Nice shoot, by the way.” She’d noticed.
Then, to Imogen, she nods. “Not parked far. I’ll go get her.” Yes, her. Althea. Awakened and eager and possessing the most garish paint job known to man. “Charlie, Drew- help her gather pieces and parts, will ya? Callie, keep watch, ok?”
She’s still not smiling – but being duty bound overcomes apathy and keeps her moving.
[Drew Roscoe] Drew blinked at Joss when she mentioned the club, trembled again, then huffed and lifted a hand to wipe (or more accurately, smear) the blood trickling down it. “Hey, now. Just gotta ask, you see the size of that fucker I gunned down in the club? You think that us three flimsy gals could’ve moved that bastard along with his chain-yanker anywhere without someone seein’ us, arresting us, and askin’ all kinds of questions to us before we could get ’em anywhere? No where we could’ve gone with them without being stopped.
“But yeah, I’ll clean up.” And her teeth flash in something of a nervous grin when she compliments her shot. “Thanks.”
Joss would be off, and Drew would look down to Charlie, then offer a hand to help him up to his feet. While doing so, she’d glance to Imogen. “Don’t suppose you’ve got some magic stash of trash bags on you?”
[Charlie] He okay?
Charlie huffs out a touch of uninvested laughter, looking up at the girl Lonna had called ‘Drew’ over and over again the night after Art died with eyes that seem younger than the rest of him. He’s a gore-soaked mess, should not be out in public any longer than is absolutely necessary, but there’s nothing they can do about that now. They have a quartet of bodies to cleanse and dispose of.
Before he can answer the girl with more than just a scoff, Joss is stepping into her rank and issuing orders. There is no argument or haggling from the still-injured metis. He just nods, weary and worn out, and winces as he hitches himself up on his elbows. A tiny hand comes out in a show of assistance and good will, and Charlie’s lips twitch with what almost turned into a smile as he gives her his wiped-off hand and gets to his feet.
“Thanks,” he says, and starts to make a pile out of the parts and pieces left over from battle.
[Imogen Slaughter] Hey now. Just gotta ask, you see the size of that fucker.
“I think we can all do without hearing your reasons and excuses,” Imogen interjects coolly. “Should you need assistance regarding size or tactic, I will give you my mobile number and we can avoid this from happening again.
“In the mean time, now is not the moment to run yer mouth.”
[Joss Lehrer] Joss is not off yet. She stands and grabs Drew by the arm, hard. Her fingers dig in, and may even leave bruises as she pulls her close. Joss is not herself, not so likely to let things pass by. Not today. Not after this week.
“Listen up, and listen good. That’s why you carry a fucking cell phone, why you have means to get ahold of all of us. You don’t run away, and you don’t NEGLECT TO TELL ANYONE FOR TWO DAYS, so that it lands HER in a bunch of shit. You’re Fenrir. We expect you to use your fucking head, as fast as you use your fucking gun.”
Imogen interjects, and Joss lets go, all but flinging Drew from her. “I’ll get Althea.”
She turns on a heel to do exactly that.
[Drew Roscoe] Drew had enough time to pull Charlie to his feet before Joss swept back and grabbed a hold of her arm, sharp fingertips biting into bare flesh with enough force to leave marks that she would have to cover up because they would be impossible to explain away to friends and employers. She leaned back when Joss leaned in, jaw locked, eyes wide with surprise at first, then indignity second.
Imogen spoke up as well, berating her the same as Joss had, only with more ice and less fury. Joss tossed her arm away and Drew’s body rocked back, shoulder throwing along with the arm to take the momentum, but allowing her to maintain her footing so that she wouldn’t have to fall back.
Words bubbled up in her throat, her skin flushed with insult, with a need to yell back and defend herself, explain her case better, but she bit it off and settled for glaring hard at the back of the Godi’s head as she walked away. Grinding her teeth, eyes flashing, Drew turned and went to work picking up disgusting, slippery pieces of once-monster now human-ish flesh and flinging them toward bodies.
Fuck the life of a Kinfolk.
[Imogen Slaughter] She watches Drew mildly for several seconds, speaking up as she clings yet another bloody part, “Please don’t chuck body parts. You never know what might shake loose. Especially considering what they were.”
With that mild admonishment she steps away, her strides lengthening as she heads for a nearby parking lot, her car and its trunk with its ‘magic stash of trash bags’.
[Joss Lehrer] She is not gone long, all told. As she had said, her van is parked not to far away. Most of the time spent walking was put to use to force her flare of rage down, to try and find her calm, to cling to the thread that keeps her from exploding on everyone, for any reason, even for the good ones.
Imogen doesn’t need her protection. She knows that. She doesn’t need the Godi’s fury at the difficult place she’d been put in, but that doesn’t stop it from existing.
The rest of her walk was used to decipher the best place to get the van as close as possible, so that cleanup can be done quickly and efficiently. Once that decision is made, she jogs to the Van. Moments later Althea eagerly purrs to life….
[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen returns – several industrial size and strength bags in hand, as well as several gloves, which are offered to both Drew and Charlie before she puts on her own, shaking open a heavy black bag and starting to put body parts inside.
She can hear the purr of Althea, and simply works in silence for several seconds, her actions cool and defined compared to Drew’s furious ones.
Eventually she speaks, addressing her comments to Drew.
“Has it been explained to you why it was so critical that the bodies at the club, and these bodies here must be disposed of?”
[Drew Roscoe] Drew didn’t say anything to Imogen when she suggested, coolly, that she stop flinging body parts around. But she did listen, after one last good chuck of a piece of flesh that could have been a piece of anything– belly, back, buttock, you name it. She nudged things with her shoe, picked them up cupped in her hands and deposited them on the flayed open chests of dead things, and paused every now and again to close her eyes, tuck her nose into the crook of her arm, and reign in her gag reflex.
She didn’t care if she was supposed to be tough, this was just nasty.
When Imogen asked her, calmly, if she’d been educated, Drew looked at her. The indignant fire had gone from her eyes, and it seems the weight of the situation they’d just gone through had settled now that her adrenaline-shaken aftermath tension had eased up a little. She swallowed, tongue working against the back of her throat, and nodded. When she spoke, she sounded calmer, perhaps even a touch pleading for someone to at least nod at her case.
“Yeah, I know. The Veil. People aren’t supposed to get evidence of what’s happening ’cause bad shit’ll happen. But I honestly don’t think there was anything to be done. There were crowds of people, this was down along the Mile where cops show up in a heartbeat, not like in Bronze, you know? I would’ve cleaned it up if I’d thought we could do so without making things… more complicated. It’s better to let people hide behind their refusal to open their eyes to the truth, make assumptions about steroids and birth defects… than to be pinned under a lie detector and have my shitty lies dig us a bigger hole.”
[Joss Lehrer] Soon the Althea, the van, purrs up closer than the parks and rec office would likely prefer, using the path to drive on until she’s only a short distance away. They’ve a lot to clean up before people start trickling back in to see what happened, if anything happened at all, what those noises were. Time is of the essence.
She turns off the engine, and takes another calming breath, resting her head against her steering wheel briefly. Then, she pats the dash as if the van were live (..in a way, it is!) and then hopes out of the drivers seat. She moves to the back doors, and hauls them open. Directly inside is the bench/bed that looks to be made of wood without openings, but is not. She lifts the back of it off, and leans it against the side, exposing a 5 foot deep x 4 foot wide x 2 ft high space. She pries up the false bottom, which gives another 6 inches of depth to the area, to. There’s also opening to the left side that’s about a foot wide that goes even farther under the shelving unit that covers the length of the van’s interior.
Clearly, this had been built with disposals like this in mind.
The space open and ready for the bags, she moves to grab a bag and help collect body parts. Drew speaks, and she bristles again, but a glance at Imogen, and she holds her tongue, for now.
(…don’t bet on it being for long…)
[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen picks up a length of calf, her gloves white against the bloodied body part, tattered with the clothing of its previous owner.
She does not appear overly disgusted by the blood and viscera – but then again, given her career, that is to be expected.
“Protecting yourself is important,” she says, simply, and she is not looking at the girl while she speaks. she is putting the body into the garbage bag, she is shaking the bag to settle the accumulated parts inside. She bends down and scoops up a wad of flesh, already spongy and cold in her hand. “But puttin’ yerself at risk is not the only option. Yeh could ha’ called me. Had Moira call me. You could ha’ done so that night, or after the fact. Instead, I had t’find out because I checked in tha’ mornin’. I had to poach a case from a colleague, which damages my relationship wi’ him and my standin’ at my place o’ employment. The rumour o’ the two had already reached the press. I had to lie to someone with whom I have cultivated a relationship and feed him a lie to push forward with his superiors. I had to falsify reports. I had t’keep anyone from examinin’ the body. Refusal t’believe does not go far wi’ doctors. And there is always the risk tha’ someone who knows what they’re looking at will see it and begin to connect the dots.
“In savin’ yerself, yeh put me at risk. Yeh put my career at risk and in turn put what I can do for the Nation, t’protect Garou and kinfolk at risk.”
She looks up now, dropping the flesh into the bag and tying it off for Joss to take, her eyes regarding Drew easily. “Next time make a phone call.”
[Drew Roscoe] Drew paused, nose tucked into the crook of her arm, and looked at Imogen while she spoke. Her eyebrows portrayed a flurry of responses– confusion, rapt attention, interest, defensiveness. There was plenty that she wanted to say, but after glancing to Joss, she settled for shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders helplessly.
“Look, I’m sorry. Ma’am–” she means Slaughter, “–I didn’t have any idea what you did for a living until you just made that speech right now. On top of that, I don’t have your phone number. Maybe Moira did, maybe she should’a called you, maybe I should’a called and told someone else anyways…” She shook her head again and wiped her hands on her pants.
“Sorry. Next time.”
[Imogen Slaughter] “Moira’s been told the same thing you are,” a glance at Joss, then back to Drew.
“And you will ha’ my number by the end of the night.”
Sorry, next time.
A brief pause then a nod. “Good. Thank you.”
[Joss Lehrer] Moira has been told the same – and Joss nods. “Moira should have known better, yes. I already took care of things with her. All I want is that it not happen again – not when the solution is so simple as a phone call. Keep to that, and we won’t have a problem.”
Or a repeat of this particular problem anyway. She takes the bag from Imogen, and turns to shove it into the storage space in Althea, instead of saying anything farther.
[Imogen Slaughter] From there, conversation dies. The rustle of garbage bags the stench of blood. The bags are deposited in the van. Imogen strips off her gloves.
“I don’t believe we all need t’burn th’bodies,” she says to Drew and Charlie.
“If yeh’d prefer t’go home.”
[Joss Lehrer] Once the last bag is placed in the van, Joss studies to see how much room is left. Always be prepared, and such, for the next time. Then she goes about replacing the hatches to hide the bodies. She steps back and surveys the results and nods. Not bad, if she says so herself. She shoulders the doors closed, and locks them, then turns to Imogen.
“Same place?”
They’ve done this before.
[Charlie] The metis does nothing to interfere or distract when Joss grabs a hold of the younger kinswoman’s arms and lays into her, whether he has the drive to do so or not. Without knowing details about his tribe, without the understanding of what his upbringing had to have been like, his decision to let the Fenrir handle their own affairs may very well be seen as cowardice, of not having the balls necessary to stand up to a couple of women. But it’s the fact that they are women, that one of them is a Fostern and his auspice elder, that helps stay his tongue.
Never mind the fact that Joss is Fenrir, that Drew is her Kin, that he had just lectured his own kinswoman about letting the Fenrir manage Fenrir affairs after the bonfire several months ago. He knows his place, even if he is on the cusp of attaining some semblance of equality with the Godi, and he does not open his mouth. He doesn’t know the story, doesn’t read the newspapers or have connections to the Kinfolk network. He has only heard rumors about a possible breach of the Veil, and no more. So he helps pile the bodies into one central location, and awkwardly dons a pair of gloves when Imogen passes them out, and helps load pieces into garbage bags. The weather is taking a turn for the worse, dark clouds spreading themselves over the previously sunny sky.
He doesn’t utter a sound until the matter of what Drew is to do next time she is in a similar situation is settled, until Imogen addresses him, even if the comment is to be shared between the two of them.
He glances between his torn, bloody clothes and the blood-splattered girl. There is a question of whether they’re going to the same place from Joss, and when Charlie speaks next, it’s to Drew.
“I’ll walk you back.”
[Drew Roscoe] Drew did what work she was able– helping pull bodies toward the van, to load them up, stuffing things in garbage bags, the like. After some minutes of rushed work (because they were racing the clock that was the CPD’s response time) she was standing back, sweaty as well as bloody, wiping her forehead with the back of the glove she was wearing and frowning just a little bit.
Imogen offered them a chance to go home, since apparently she and Charlie weren’t really needed anymore. The tall, wiry young man who’d been dead some ten minutes ago offered to walk her home, and she lifted her eyebrows at him, thought about questioning his ability to walk great distances, but decided against it. After all, Joe had managed to walk her home and she had literally been watching his ribs flash in and out of sight the whole way, worrying about what people would do when they saw that blood was leaking down his pantleg and squelching in his boot every time he took a step.
“Thanks,” she said to Charlie with a nod and a small hint of a smile, a flash of sun and good things through the grime that splattered her face. She’d glance to Joss and Imogen, almost like she was regarding them, then nod. “See you later.” I guess. If I gotta.
[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen’s eyes move to Drew with her farewell. “Goodnight,” she says, before turning to step back toward the van. A beat.
“And really, bloody excellent shot.” No smile accompanies the compliment, if it can be taken as such.
“Same spot,” she confirms to Joss, walking around the van to the passenger’s side. “Best get on wi’ it.”
[Joss Lehrer] Charlie offers to walk Drew home, and she says she’ll see them later. (she guesses, if she’s gotta.) Joss says nothing to the kinfolk, just regards her evenly. The smile hasn’t returned. There’s no telling when it will, if it will. It’s been a long ass week, and getting longer.
After a moment, she lifts her chin to Charlie and the kinfolk both. “Call if you need me.”
And then she turns on a hell, and moves to the driver’s side door, and climbs inside. Moment’s later, Althea purrs to life, and she waits for Imogen to join her inside her baby. It should be noted that the inside isn’t near as garish as the outside. Luckily…
Though Joss DOES speak to the van, in a soft murmur. “Good girl, Althea. Won’t be long and we’ll dump the icky…” her voice is low, but she knows Imogen’s hearing is good. Still, she doesn’t explain it.
[Imogen Slaughter] The good doctor’s gaze moves slightly toward Joss as she speaks to her vehicle, an eyebrow arching slightly. Still, Joss does not explain it, and Imogen does not ask her to.
The engine noise is sharp and unmuffled inside the van. She leans back in the seat, reaching over her shoulder to retrieve her seatbelt and draw it over her body.
Silence extends between the two.
Then, finally.
“I suppose I should ha’ you cleanse me after this.”
[Joss Lehrer] She catches the look, as she puts the van in gear, and reverses her path to get back to the lot, and the street beyond. Imogen doesn’t ask her to explain, yet she does anyway, after a beat. “I awakened her. Can haul stuff on the otherside that way, too. Her names Althea.”
She’s still not smiling, and while it’s something that is typical of the Godi, it loses something in translation without the exciteable Godi giving all the (sometimes unwanted) details.
Imogen supposes a cleansing is in order after this, and Joss nods. “I’ll do it while we burn the bodies – cleans them and the area while I’m at it.
[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen’s breath exhales suddenly, sharply, not really amused, but showing the hall-markers of it anyway.
“I can’t begin t’imagine how tainted tha’ site is. I’ve used it off and on fer quite some time.”
A sideways glance. “Yeh’ll ha’ yer work cut out.”
[Joss Lehrer] She nods, slightly, and there’s a hint of a smile, an acknowledgment anyway in the slight curl of her lips. “Good. It’ll keep me occupied for a bit.”
Keep her mind off of going back to the kinhouse, where Evan’s presence is gone, where it’s somber and she feels like crying, where she has to face her failure, because there are no distractions.
“Thanks, by the way. For talking to Drew. Before I smacked her.” Though there’s the sense she’d still like to do exactly that.
[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen glances Joss’s way, then out the window of the van. Several seconds pass, then she turns back.
“Smacking her won’t make her Fenrir. Nor will shaking her and yelling in her face.”
A pause. Then, she adds: “You’re welcome.”
[Joss Lehrer] She nods, slightly. Her teeth grind briefly, the muscle of her jaw jumping, before she huffs an exhaled breath – something akin to a frustrated sigh. “Of all folks, Imogen, I know that. I wasn’t raised that way. I’m just…”
Her pause lingers, and then, softly. “On edge. Not myself. Or somethin’.”
She shakes her head. “I know it don’t excuse it, and I probably should apologize. But I probably won’t. I tried talking nice to her once, too. It doesn’t get through. Apparently, not much does – but she’s Joe’s problem, and I’ll do my best to keep out of it.”
Even if her best wasn’t good enough tonight.
[Imogen Slaughter] Another silence after Joss has spoken.
“Well,” she says eventually. “At least now, this particular problem is solved.”
[Joss Lehrer] There is not a lot of conversation between the two. There doesn’t need to be. Joss drives to the out of the way spot, and they begin to burn the bodies. As they do, Joss prepares, and then sets to cleansing the entire area – as well as Imogen. It takes a bit, and she does it all a second time just to be sure.
But in the end, both the grisly jobs are done, and Joss see’s Imogen back to her car. She thanks her again, and then puts Althea into gear – and heads for the Caern.
She still can’t quite face the Packhouse -she’s not quite exhausted enough for that.
(and fade! Thanks for playing!)
[Imogen Slaughter] (thanks back!)