[-benthic-] [All right, this is a combat-heavy scene. We should be initting up in 2-3 posts at most. Narration will likely be thrown in in small blurbs throughout, rather than in large chunks between rounds or whatnot. A reminder of the rules:
1. Given the + of people we have, if we're in narrative, 10 min per post OR LESS, and it's best if you start posting as soon as you see my post rather than waiting for your fellow player. If/when we're dicing, declare in 2 min. Roll in 2 or I'll roll for you and/or skip you. If you want to post ICly during combat, keep it to when you're not actively declaring/rolling, or else keep to the 2-minute deadlines.
2. If you happen to be multitasking, make sure you can keep up with the deadlines. Otherwise, I'll ask you to stop your other scene.
3. No posting order, but please post ONCE for every post I make unless I say otherwise.
4. Keep track of your own health and tempers.
5. Questions in the chat. Don't IM me. If I don't see the question, repeat it until I do. If I don't respond for minutes on end -- I'm probably posting. You should wait, unless it's absolutely urgent, upon which you should PM me once.
6. PM me your applicable flaws. This includes stuff like nightmares and phobias and hatreds and compulsions!
7. If there are any off-limits themes, imagery or events you do NOT want to see in a scene, PM 'em to me now.
8. Go ahead and start yourselves off! You're either on patrol at the Caern or just here for some other purpose.]
[Dreams In Summer Snow] ((Harmony has Soft-Hearted, Docile, and the Merit Calm Heart, just in case!))
to -benthic-
[-benthic-] [PM! not IM! PM in here!]
[Warcry] [Moon-Bound! Waning gibbous tonight. D: !!]
to -benthic-
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [BAH! PM/IM Same same but different! LOL Only applicable flaw that might matter - Insane Ancestor. Trigger is Spirals with Howler PB]
to -benthic-
[Gregory] my bad, deranged - irrational outbursts
to -benthic-
[-benthic-] [whoops! we have a kin. all right, we'll set the action just outside the caern, but you guys should still start out patrolling the caern or hanging out just outside or ... something.]
[Victor Oseragighte] (( Flaws: Mark of the Predator (2), Phobia: Drowning (2), Strict Carnivore (1), Unable to Swim (2) ))
to -benthic-
[Dreams In Summer Snow] Harmony hasn't yet made his official pledge to Maelstrom, even though he's been in Chicago for nearly a month. How time flies. He's a fifteen year old boy, though, out on his own: he doesn't have much, and he isn't sure what would be an appropriate sacrifice. Appropriate and dramatic, too. He's young enough to care about these things.
He still patrols the place, though. It's a good way to meet fellow Garou, and he doesn't want to seem like a freeloader.
At present, the boy has plopped himself down on a rock just within the bawn, polo shirt and plaid shorts and leather sandals and all. His legs swing off the edge, and at present, he just waits. He contemplates, a little. He enjoys the evening air, and wishes that it wouldn't be horribly inappropriate to have music in here with him: he suspects listening to an iPod while on patrol would be heavily frowned upon.
[Victor Oseragighte] Though he prefers to spend time in the spirit world of late, tonight he is watching the lake, standing quietly, deep in thought as he mulls over what he will offer to Maelstrom, a tribute still not given. Some might say he's accomplished much since he's arrived, but to his mind, he's done nothing more than is asked and expected of him. The wind off the lake picks at the Wendigo's hair whimsically and whispers through the red and blue Montreal Alouette's jersey. tugs at the brown cargo pants, but he is as solid as the hard-toed boots that are the most enduring part of his small wardrobe.
[Stormbreaker] Stormbreaker hadn't spent much time at home this week. Instead, she'd spent most of it at the caern - some of it umbral, other times just lingering realmside. Most of it - she spent as close to water as possible - the regular sloshing of the waves on the rocks was a simple comfort.
Mila was on her way to the caern this evening. The dark haired Shadow Lord's hair was pulled back into a poney tail and she wore a simple white-sox t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Perhaps Simon was behind her - perhaps not. She wasn't leading him out here tonight - but she wouldn't have stopped him if he followed.
Her hands were in her back pockets and she hummed quietly - it was something soft, and quite sorrowful.
[Erika] Dr. Alexander takes a walk after packing up August's things. There's something about the night air that draws her out of her task-oriented shell and into the warm summer night. After last night's fiasco with August, she isn't exactly thrilled with some of the Garou. She's also learned never to wear an Armani within a mile of the bawn.
The crisp white athletic tee shows the scars on her arm and throat. She has her hair pulled back, and wears dark jeans. Her bag is simple, not flashy. The only thing that is flashy is the silver crysoberyl-set orthodox cross she's taken a habit of wearing. It's almost become her badge. Her lanyard is tucked through a belt loop on her jeans, in case she gets called away to some emergency.
[Ruarc o'Conaill] The tall Fianna is not on patrol. But he was heading towards the caern for that very purpose, to step into the next rotation. He has been elsewhere in the city today and he seems quite relaxed despite the gibbeous moon above their heads. The massive Ahroun walks with his hand sin his pockets, glancing around with curiosity and interest as he moves.
Dressed simple. Blue jeans, grey tunic, light travellers boots. Dark hair shaven along the sides, sporting only a touch of red in it. Stormy gray and blue eyes where one would expect the green of the Fianna. For someone of such purity, his appearance seems a throwback into times more ancient still.
[Warcry] One of Tripoli's favorite places to hang out is the Caern. All that shrapnel. He doesn't like rust, though. It makes him skid away across the ground on his singular wheel, the treads tough enough for all-terrain, EEEEEing back to Sinclair, wherever she may be.
Currently, however, Sinclair is heading out of the Caern proper, towards the fence at the edges of the bawn. The spot she and Lukas noticed was coming apart has been repaired. Tripoli is lagging behind, zooming between chunks of rock and abandoned sheet metal. He has collected quite an armload of various bits of garbage. Granted, all of it is in the shape of bottlecaps and empty cans, but he is an elemental. The other stuff around just doesn't matter to him.
The Fostern has her hair down, and the breeze going through the bawn and caern whips the long straight strands around every so often. She's in ragged denim cutoffs and purple plaid Vans, her feet bare within them. Her shirt is an ancient Nine Inch Nails tee with a few holes here and there from sheer age and wear. It's too baggy for her lean, athletic frame.
The tattoos and modifications to her arms can't be seen, nor her earrings, nor the ink on the back of her neck. Oh, but the viper wrapped around her right thigh is visible, and the cuff around her left ankle made up of palm fronds and constellations and a singular line of poetry: everyone can see those.
She sees Harmony first and only vaguely recognizes the younger werewolf, but alters her course to head that direction anyway. Tripoli continues zipping along after her, wheel bumping over the uneven land as he comes whirring to his Best Wolf-Friend Forever and Ever and Ever and Ever who Also Does Not Like Rust Which Is Very Nasty Stuffy Indeed.
"Hey," she says, pulling up a bit of rock, herself. The gaffling, seeing she's become still, goes circling the rock, looking for can tabs. "You're... look, I'm sorry, what was your name?"
[Bone-Grinder] The crack of a rock flying off towards the water came from Simon's direction. He was enjoying the evening, it was warm out and rather pleasant so why not take advantage and head out? Simon was looking to be in good spirits tonight at least he wore a smile on his face.
The Full Moon always seemed to be doing something. Even when he was lying on the ground relaxing he always seemed to need to have something to do. So one by one he tossed the rocks up into the air and one by one he smacked them off towards the water with a smile on his face, each time trying to hit the rock farther just to see how far he can hit it.
[-benthic-] All quiet on the eastern front.
Caern patrol is necessary. It's even honorable to serve under a Garou such as Evens the Odds; to protect the home they all share, no matter what their disagreements and disparities.
But truth be told, it's not the most exciting job in the world. This Caern has grown strong, even clinging to the lip of a scab as it is. Its spirit wards are mighty, its Warder a goddamn Athro. Most nights, all the excitement the patrol sees comes on the order of a hapless bane or two; perhaps an insane fomor drunk on his own adrenaline and rage, blindly charging the borders.
Tonight, though. Tonight, there hasn't even been that much. Not so much as a gaffling of smog wisping over the fence. The Guardians are yawning in their patrols. Even the Warder looks bored, leaning on a pylon on a sagging, abandoned dock. Broken Glass idles beside him, sitting at the edge of the dock with his bony knees hugged against his narrow chest, dragging on a cigarette. The weather is heavy. The sun set only an hour ago, and the long northern twilight still stains the horizons. Storms are blowing in over the lake again, gathering moisture and warmth from the vast body of freshwater beneath them.
"Ho there," Broken Glass says suddenly, straightening. "What's that?"
He nods his chin up toward the water, dark under a darkening sky. Evens the Odds turns, frowns across the water for a moment. Whatever he sees makes him stand a little more upright.
[if you're in sight of the water, you may make a percep+alert roll at diff 8. if you're in sight of the water AND within earshot of EtO and Broken Glass, you may make it at diff 6. it's up to you where you are!]
[Warcry] [perception + alertness]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 5, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 1 at target 8)
[Dreams In Summer Snow] [Perception + Alertness, in sight of the water.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 7, 7, 7, 7 (Failure at target 8)
[Bone-Grinder] [Per+Alertness]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 2, 6 (Botch x 1 at target 8)
[Gregory] [per+alert]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 3, 6, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Erika] Hard of Hearing (right ear). Intolerance (FEAR of Garou attack).
to -benthic-
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [I can sees water!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 5, 7 (Botch x 1 at target 8)
[Stormbreaker] {P+A}
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 7, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 8)
[Victor Oseragighte] (( Per + Alertness. ))
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Erika]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 6, 6, 8, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[-benthic-] Wow. It sure is boring tonight, isn't it? It's so boring that maaaaybe you guys are just gonna daydream about that chick in True Blood for a while. Or Megan Fox. Yeah...
to Bone-Grinder, Ruarc o'Conaill
[Dreams In Summer Snow] If he's offended that she doesn't remember his name, it doesn't show. Harmony has a round, pleasant face and a wide mouth that seems like it wants to smile even when it isn't. For a few seconds when he lifts his head he looks at her through a fringe of light brown hair: he's sporting one of those swooping bowl cuts currently popular with teenage boys. As it falls into his eyes he sweeps it away, back toward one of his ears.
"Harmony," he says. "Dreams in Summer Snow, Cliath Half-Moon of the Children of Gaia." He adds the last with an air of resignation, and he adds it because most people assume that his given name -is- his deed name, in addition to the fact that it's a proper introduction.
He glances toward Tripoli with interest, and it's perhaps because of this that he isn't looking toward the water at this particular moment. Assumes that there's nothing to be noticed, nothing to be seen, and it's lucky that he isn't the only person currently responsible for the caern's defense. There are other Garou here who are more experienced and more on guard.
He looks back up toward Sinclair, and now he does smile. It's a slow, lazy thing, and it touches his eyes. "What is that?" he asks, with a gesture toward her mechanical friend. "And...oh, sorry. I'm having a hard time remembering your name too. I know I saw you at the moot."
[-benthic-] There's a ripple out on the lake. There are plenty of ripples, but this one is different; it breaks the pattern of the wavelets coming into shore.
to Gregory, Victor Oseragighte, Warcry
[-benthic-] There's a ripple out on the lake. There are plenty of ripples, but this one is different; it breaks the pattern of the wavelets coming into shore.
It looks like ... a watersnake, maybe? Are there watersnakes in Chicago? Regardless, it's not heading for you. It's heading for shore maybe an eighth of a mile from you, across that chainlink fence you know to be the borders of the Caern.
to Erika
[Ruarc o'Conaill] Ruarc blushes suddenly, remembering something, or someone. The way she leaned over the hood of the car, hands in the engine, such at her back, just about to shine through the top that slid up to reveal that smooth plane of her stomach…
Ruarc sneezes and stumbles a step, glancing around as if someone was watching him, then moves on.
[Warcry] [perception + alertness -1]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5 (Botch x 1 at target 8)
[-benthic-] There's a ripple out on the lake. There are plenty of ripples, but this one is different; it breaks the pattern of the wavelets coming into shore. Something alive, moving under its own power, long and sinuous like a snake. Or a very large worm. Something, and it doesn't look harmless.
It's coming straight for the shores of the Caern.
to Stormbreaker
[-benthic-] Wow. It sure is boring tonight, isn't it? It's so boring that maaaaybe you guys are just gonna daydream about that guy in True Blood for a while. Or Taylor Lautner. Yeah...
to Warcry
[Bone-Grinder] Megan fox is pretty fuckin' hot but she's also a little old and used up for him but she was still pretty damn hot. If nothing else it was a pleasant thought to pass the time. He doesn't watch True Blood but he does think about it and for some reason the chick on True Blood... Which chick is that? I don't even watch the show! Whoever she is she's probably hot too! What about the Chick from True Blood and Megan Fox... You know... Makin' out? Now that's hot Simon! You sir are a genius!
Another crack as a rock goes flying off into the distance. He was hitting them far enough out that only the splash as they hit the water could be identified.
[Victor Oseragighte] Dark eyes narrow, trying to make out what he sees out on the water. He can't entirely make it out, and it could be nothing, just a bit of driftwood, some flotsam or jetsam.... except that it's not moving with the waves, but at its own speed. This finally moves him, sets his steps treading down from his perch atop a low shelter, leaping down to head for water's edge, or close, at least, and perhaps get a better idea of what he's seeing.
[Gregory] Gregory's eyes focus onto the surface of the lake. He had been wandering nearby when Broken glass spoke. Instinctively he takes a step forward, curious.. rippling.. He decides that perhaps a step forward is not the best of options right now and takes two back, stuffing his hands into his jacket pocket and sucking in his cheeks nervously.
[Stormbreaker] Mila wasn't entirely close - but her senses were on edge (everything was on edge, actually) and she had a keen eye on the water. She saw what was coming - even though she couldn't entirely make it out.
The cliath took off in a run towards the water. Oh hell no. This thing wasn't going to be causing problems tonight! If any known garou were in ear shot, she'd yell 'hey' and point towards the water. The running should clearly relay 'there's a problem.'
[Erika] Erika spots the thing moving in the water and searches for someone to point it out to. The fence is something she shouldn't cross and she knows it. Her phone, clipped to her waist, is in quick reach for just such purposes. But, alas, the few she would have numbers for are probably nowhere near here.
Instead, she does the only thing she really can, which is to get a better look. Idly, she runs her hand along the aluminum fence, making it rattle a tiny bit. Stupid horror movie cliche, but what else is there to do? Oh Lawdy it's a snake. Run for the hills.
[Warcry] These are not the best of nights for the Galliard. Her moon is in the sky but growing steadily darker by the hour, and Sinclair seems to darken with it. There are faint gray-blue circles under each soft blue eye. Truth be told, she barely has the oomph necessary to make herself walk all the way back to her car without a few breaks here and there. It isn't weariness. It's sort of an ache, dull and depressed and angry, buried at the core of her and made worse these days any time her mind has a chance to wander.
So she doesn't let it wander far. She sits down by this poor kid with the unfortunate name and utterly ignores the water, propping her chin on her hand and watching the Gaian while he watches Tripoli.
"Warcry, Brutal Revelation. Fostern Galliard of the Walkers, bound to the Unbroken by Perun." Not elder of anything. She and the Philodox are clueless when it comes to whatever is going on by the waters. She doesn't laugh at his name, and neither does Tripoli. Tripoli hasn't noticed that those leather sandals of Harmony's bear inspection, to see if they have buckles. He likes buckles. Tripoli wouldn't care about his name anyway.
"Metal elemental," she answers. "He's just a gaffling. I call him Tripoli." Not like the city; it's pronounced triple-e.
He rolls over and peers at Harmony, holding all of his bit and pieces of metal and staring for a moment, then whirring away, eeeeing to himself in chittering bursts.
[-benthic-] The Warder and his packmate aren't the only ones to notice something odd afoot. As Broken Glass climbs to his feet, Evens the Odds shrugs off the pylon. His shoulders square to the water, solid as a battleship himself.
Other Garou are filtering down to the water's edge now. Looking. Seconds go by, and soon anyone within view of the water, anyone looking in the right direction, can see the disturbance in the dark lake. The ripple that doesn't belong, cutting across the surface like a razor, streaking toward shore.
There's no perspective out on the lake. No visual cue of size. As the thing approaches, they can see it's much, much bigger than your average watersnake. Not longer, but thicker. As thick around as a man's torso. Cresting above the waves and submerging again, moving not like a watersnake but like a worm, with up-and-down undulations of its body.
A moment later they see another one right behind it.
And another.
And then they realize it's not a series of water-wyrms after all but one creature, one gargantuan thing so long that the different, rippling stretches of its body are ten feet apart. As long as a city bus. As long as a city block, maybe.
Very close now. It'll be at the shore in seconds. Close enough that even as Evens the Odds is sucking in the breath to bellow,
"BACKUP ON THE EASTERN PERIMETER! NOW!"
Broken Glass is already turning on his heel and sprinting to alert the rest of the caern. He snaps into Lupus as he goes. Wolf-form, dappled and utterly devoid of any pure breeding at all but so, so fucking fast, he streaks westward, a raw howl of warning ripping out of his throat as he goes.
[Warcry] It's the shout from Evens the Odds that has Sinclair snapping her head up and looking away from Dreams in Summer Snow, eyes shooting towards the water. They widen, and she's on her feet before anything else. "Tripoli, go!" she says sharply, and with a yelping EE! the gaffling tosses all his lovely trinkets into the air and
just vanishes, gone even before the litter has finished falling to the ground.
But Sinclair is gone, too, before her 'pet' even reacted to her barked order to get the hell out of here. She's bolting towards the shore, running like a practiced athlete even as her body takes form after form after form
and finally starts tearing through the ground in hispo, massive paws falling in heavy thuds, sending gravel up with every rake of her feet across the earth.
[Dreams In Summer Snow] Harmony's sandals do indeed have buckles, which, fortunately, seem to have gone unnoticed by Sinclair's gaffling (Triple-e like Italy, not like the city in the same country.) He smiles again, first at Warcry and then toward Tripoli, who is whirring away from the two of them.
When Sinclair sits, he scoots to make room for her. Harmony's rather astute, in his way, and it doesn't take him long to see those dark circles under the young woman's eyes. It pains him, in a distant sort of way, even though he doesn't know whether she's just an insomniac or whether it has some underlying cause, something that happened here in Maelstrom. He assumes, though. He's already seen a lot of sadness floating around the city, even in his brief time here.
He's about to answer her, and that's when he notices the water-Wyrms. The serpents, cresting the waves of Lake Michigan and then undulating below. And Harmony, he isn't really a warrior, not yet. So his green eyes widen, and he pushes himself off the rock with the sort of tension that inexperienced fighters have.
But he tries to be ready. He glances toward Sinclair, and then he begins to snapshift into a Hispo form, brown fur rich and glossy even if it's obvious that he's not done growing yet.
And, once he's shifted, he will run toward the eastern front.
[Spending 1 Rage to snapshift to Hispo.]
[Erika] A raw chill goes up Erika's spine. THE thing in the water is huge, defies logic. It makes the Garou on red alert. What Cthulean creature lie beneath the surface of the lake eats at the corners of her mortal mind. As it should.
The warning howl of the Garou takes her off pause mode and into action. Things are happening at once now. It's a familiar feeling, though she is on the edge of the territory. That still didn't make her safe. Not at all. She's even heard the old idiom...
Where there's one....
If the thing has backup she doesn't want to be close to the water. The kin jumps back along the line of the fence. She could climb it if she wanted to be in the fray, but it isn't her place and she has nothing that could help.
Not even the green canister of bear mace she suddenly realizes she has in her hand. What the fuck is this thing?
[Ruarc o'Conaill] Daydreaming is one thing. Mila’s cry for attention has him stopping, raising his brows and looking towards the shadow lord. Moments later, the Warder gives a warning. Ruarc might not see clearly what is coming, but he does see Broken Glass taking Lupus and dashing for the caern. There is no doubt in the Fianna full moon. The shift comes natural as he begins moving towards the water, towards the Warder and the other Garou. Glabro. Crinos. The massive beast moves rapidly.
He is whispering a prayer under his breath in deep growls, off misty shores and ancient battlegrounds. Of Heroes and blood and death and glory and war. Within him he calls to Hammer of Tri-Spiral, the full moon ancestor of his line that stood against the howling hordes, reclaiming a caern once fallen to the Wyrm Howlers.
[Ancestors!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 5, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 8) [WP]
[Victor Oseragighte] There could be only one thing it was coming for. He knows this of a certainty. Muscles swell beyond, growing in mass and density both beyond the rationale of any human belief as his limbs lengthen, as the scant covering of hair on his human body becomes a thick gray coat of fur. The bone dagger is drawn, black-tipped ears twitching, lips curling back from his newly-extended maw to reveal angry white teeth. So long as he lived, this sacred site would not be lost.
Victor moves to join with the others, even as he looks to the water, a swift, nervous glance.
[Gregory] The thing.. the worm.. its coming closer its large, like a very large thing! Broken glass is shouting and Gregory is simply standing there, his jaw hanging open. "Snake!" Gregory says, then shouts. "SNAKE IN THE LAKE!" He turns on his heel and starts running away from the waters edge like an utter coward.
[Stormbreaker] She was running already and it didn't slow even as the threat became clear. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as the blood surged. One foot after another, the loose gravel crunched under her feet.
At some point, the woman disappeared and was replaced with a large, dark wolf. There was a blood lust in her eyes which usually wasn't there. Perhaps it was the waning moon.. perhaps it was.. many things. Needless to say,.. killing was in the forefront of her mind.
{1 Rage, snapshift Hispo}
[Bone-Grinder] His eyes narrow suspiciously and he looks around for Mama half expecting everyone to go crazy any second now. Was this another one of her surprise exercises? Oh fuck... Did those things from the other day follow them back to Chicago? Oh crap this was not looking good... And just as the daydream was getting good.
Simon turns his eyes towards the bat. He begins to wonder if maybe he had something to do with summoning those things. He quickly hides the bat behind his back and looks around to make sure no one sees him."Hey umm people we got some kinda company!"He calls out and a little smile takes shape on his lips.
He drops the bat and almost immediately begins to shift forms. Whatever was coming was not going to get past the shoreline without a serious fight and he wasn't gonna get caught off guard.
[Stam+Primal Urge]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 7, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Bone-Grinder] [That was for Crinos]
[Victor Oseragighte] (( Sta + Primal Urge ))
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 3, 5, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-benthic-] Within seconds the Garou are responding. They race across the barren bawn, this industrial wasteland ruled by a churning, aloof totem; this sprawl of broken concrete and rusting metal and
tiny, hidden groves of life nurtured by years of care and worship.
Their feet pound broken tarmac. Their mighty paws churn up loose sandy dirt. Form after form, they shift, they snarl to the lakeshore bristling and ready for war, ready to defend what is utterly, desperately theirs --
-- and out on the lake, the streak, writhing dark thing slows. Stops. Pauses a moment. They can see no head, just a length of body, so long that it can only be seen in glimpses and flashes that undulate and sometimes break the surface. Then, utterly without warning, it turns aside from the line of Garou waiting to meet it with tooth and claw.
It streaks for the single kin instead, standing outside the protection of the Caern and all its mighty wards and warders.
[whatever you want to activate, do it in your next turn/post cuz we're going to inits right after!]
[Erika] Erika is not about to hop over that fence to join the fray. There's absolutely nothing she can do except stay the hell out of it and patch up people later. Her eyes roam over Simon and Ruarc. All of them were either mid-shift, or in Gregory's case... running away. Erika steps further back from the water and loops the fingers of one hand through the chain link fence. Her eyes watch the horrible thing, whatever it is, approach at massive speed. It has changed course entirely.
Loudly, the kin swears in Russian, something horrifically vulgar. Her skin crawls and after a second of pure terror, she bolts.
[Bone-Grinder] The thing looked big which meant he might need his claws. Simon was quick to snarl and begin working those claws against the ground scratching and sharpening them for the battle to come. He kept his eyes firmly on the target as he did this... Getting himself ready to deal with the threat in as quick and timely a manner as possible. He needed to go watch True Blood after this, cause he still had no clue who the chick from the show was!
[-1 Rage activating Razor Claws]
[Ruarc o'Conaill] Blood-Song/Hammer of Tri-Spiral looks to the massive thing on the lake, then watches wide eyed as it turns towards the kin. It makes them snarl and change direction. A claw tearing at skin, coming away with a roll of crimson bandages. they press it against their skin and fuels the talen with part of their spirit.
[BB 1gn to activate]
[Victor Oseragighte] As he moves, Victor taps into his roots on dual levels. The first is simplest, calling upon man's relationship with primate cousins, thinking he might need to do some climbing if this thing rears up high enough. The second is a deeper relationship for him, far more personal.
Ancestors he never knew he had before the change whisper to him in his dreams, breathe through him, live again in a fashion. He calls upon them now, tapping into a warrior whose name is long forgotten, remembered only in tales of his tribe as The Gray One. This ancestor has never seen fit to share its name with its descendent, but that warrior spirit will gladly lend its might on occasion. He prays that this is one of them.
(( 1 R for Climb Like a Monkey, Rolling for Ancestors to raise Brawl. ))
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 6 (Failure at target 8)
[Dreams In Summer Snow] He runs toward the water, his Hispo paws thudding heavily against the ground. Harmony isn't really an experienced warrior, but he's going to fight, and he's going to fight hard. He might be a little mild-mannered, but he's still a Garou.
[Warcry] Once, they were called the Warders of Men.
Sinclair not of a pack devoted to the protection of humankind, or the wild places of the earth. They are war, pure and simple and stripped down. Only one of them has taken a mate. Most of them are so focused on their duties as elders of this or that, they simply have no time to devote to any other kind of family.
She has parents in Kansas. They love her, and they worry about her. But when you get right down to it, Sinclair's pack is her family. Katherine is her sister. And Erika is Katherine's ward, whether either of them like it or not.
Halfway to the shoreline, the snake moves. And Sinclair twists, sending up a spray of dirt and rock, and goes to get between that Thing and Dr. Alexander, barking out as she goes to all of them in what sounds only like snarls and roars to Erika herself:
"I'll keep it off of her. KILL IT."
Even as she goes, there's a ripple across her lean, heavily muscled body. Metal rolls up from her very flesh, it seems, coating each strand of her fur in glistening, refined steel. It slows her down a bit. But if she has to, it'll make her a better shield for the Kinswoman.
[-1WP for Resist Pain
-1WP for Steelfur
Stamina + Science -1 (moon)]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 2, 5, 5, 6, 6, 10 (Success x 1 at target 7)
[Stormbreaker] Her run came to a screeching hault.. and when the beast changed directions, so did Mila. Simon's familiar form is spotted - even though he'd been driving her crazy lately - it was still good to have a packmate by her side for this.
[Gregory] Gregory turns, mouth gaping wide at the sight of the monster. It's too late, I'm not gonna make it. His hand fumbles inside his jacket, reaching for one of the smooth stones that penny had given him. He might need this..
[soak talen -1G]
[Warcry] [GAH. FDkslfjd;slkfdsa]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7 (Failure at target 7)
[Dreams In Summer Snow] [-1 WP for Resist pain for Harmony too.]
[-benthic-] There are others pouring out of the dark expanse of the Caern now. The other Guardians; the Elders of the Caern. They start to follow the forerunners toward the edge of the bawn, but a roar from Evens the Odds calls them back.
There is, indeed, more than one. There's another one coming in to shore now; streaking in at an oblique angle. The Guardians are converging on it, racing to face it. They -- the Cliaths, the Fostern, the kin -- will not be receiving assistance from their elders tonight.
And then it's at the shore. Huge, twisting, glistening with slime and water, the snake/worm/wyrm/thing slams against the beach, sends sand and pebble flying, rears in a terrific arc of foam and water.
Its underside is covered in suckers -- huge, protruding, bulbous, like so many fleshy grapes hanging from an immense, muscular trunk. It has a head after all; a rudimentary thing with no jaw, no eyes, no features, nothing but a round sucking lamprey mouth full of teeth.
Such a thing should move slowly, muscularly, deliberately. Such a thing should not be physically capable of moving swiftly, but it does. Its speed is unreal, not of this world -- like a tape played too fast. It rears and arches and
slams down with all the force and momentum of its considerable bulk.
Time for war.
[OK! Erika, Bone Grinder, Ruarc are at ground zero and can act immediately. Victor, Dreams and Sinclair will have to take one splittable action to get there. If Gregory heads toward battle after all, he'll need to take his entire first action (unsplittable) to get there.
Inits!]
[Dreams In Summer Snow] 8
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9
[Warcry] 9
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [Init! 8+]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4
[Erika] 5
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1 (Botch x 1 at target 6)
[Gregory] 6
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4
[Bone-Grinder] [+7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1 (Botch x 1 at target 6)
[Stormbreaker] {+8}
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8
[Victor Oseragighte] (( + 19 ))
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2
[-benthic-] [monstar from ze deep! +15]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-benthic-] Shamu 22
Victor 21
Dreams 17
Warcry 16
Mila 16
Ruarc 12
Greg 10
Simon 8
Erika 6
Declare in reverse!
[Erika] Um, run?
[Bone-Grinder] Reflexive: Telling Mila to Fur Gnarl!
1a: Claw!
1r: Strike Fur Gnarl Spot
2r: Strike Fur Gnarl Spot
[Gregory] [1a: run to say hello to Shamu! roll-shift crinos]
[Ruarc o'Conaill] Declare
1a. Leap to creatures back (Salmons Leap)
1b. If on Back, Claw
1c. If on back, claw
Rage 1. Claw
Rage 2. Claw
[Stormbreaker] {1. Run, get to Shamu
Rage 1a. Bite with pack tactics stuff., 1b. Bite again - does it taste like sushi?}
[Warcry] [1a. Close - get between Erika and Shamu
1b.
R1.
R2. -- all bites. She used to hang out with Gnawers. She's had worse things in her mouth.]
[Dreams In Summer Snow] 1a: Running and closing!
1b: Biting the hell out of Shamu!
[Victor Oseragighte] 1a Run to get to it
1b Dagger in side to swing self up onto back
R1 Clawing way up back toward head (doing damage along the way hopefully)
[Erika] Things that cross Erika's mind as she's fleeing the shore: all those years of honed skill and perfection mean absolutely nothing in situations like these. Her brother's face when he tore into his own family, the blood strewn about the room, a deafening rage that blocked even her own screams.
Even after all that time, her breeding and skill account for nothing right now. She's only so much meat. As keen as she is, she's fully aware of that fact. Her lungs gulp in the humid air. She knows she's not faster than IT, but if the Garou could slow IT down, she might live. Things to hope for.
There's no pause, no looking back... she's running.
[-benthic-] Shamu
1. SLAM! AoE attack.
R1. Nom + flling Sinclair!
R2. SLAM again! Ruarc and Victor will have to roll again to hold on if they're still on this buckin' bronco.
R3. Nomfling Mila!
R4. Grabsqueeze Simon!
[-benthic-] 1. Slam attack: special effects associated! Attack roll.
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 4, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [Damage/sfx roll! +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [Everyone soak 5. Then roll a reflexive dex+ath vs diff 6. Beat 3 succ to stay on your feet.]
[-benthic-] [5 bashing, btw.]
[Warcry] [Soak! +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 7, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Dreams In Summer Snow] [Ohman! Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [Soak! ]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Stormbreaker] {Gah, soak!}
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 6, 6, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Dreams In Summer Snow] [Dex + Ath]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Gregory] [soak! +3]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 4, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Warcry] [Dex + Athletics -1 (moon) / +1 diff (steelfur)]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 5 at target 7)
[Erika] Can't soak. Dex+Athl
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 5, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [Dex + ath!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Stormbreaker] {Dex+Athletics}
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Victor Oseragighte] Soak if needed (not yet there)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 5, 5, 8, 9 (Failure at target 6)
[Victor Oseragighte] (( Dex + Athletics -2 diff. for Perfect Balance. ))
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 6, 7, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 4)
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [Reroll dex + ath! HAIL KAHSEENO!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 7, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Bone-Grinder] [Soak]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Bone-Grinder] [Dex+Athletics]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 5, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Erika]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 4, 5 (Failure at target 6)
[-benthic-] With tremendous force, the creature rams itself into the shore. Sand and pebble spray blindingly from the site of impact -- an instant before a shockwave rolls through the ground itself, rippling and heaving through lakeshore detritus in a concentric wave.
Fifty yards away, a concrete pylon cracks in half.
At ground zero, Simon goes sprawling. And Mila. And Harmony. The kin -- running -- goes facedown in the gravel.
[-benthic-] [everyone who went sprawling -- you'll have to either take an action to get up or ground-fight. if you fight on the ground, single attacks against you will be at -2 diff, and AoE attacks will do +2 damage dice.]
[-benthic-] [Victor's action 1a: running. 1b: daggering his way up. I'm gonna put a +2 diff on this attack since you're at once attacking and climbing, and -1 for flanking. So final difficulty is 5. Roll away!]
[Victor Oseragighte] Dagger!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 4, 9 (Success x 1 at target 5)
[-benthic-] [add'l -1 diff for gift: Climb Like An Ape. 2 suxx]
[Victor Oseragighte] Damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [now roll dex+ath vs diff 8 to stay on its gooey back!]
[-benthic-] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[Warcry] Nobody has to tell this kinswoman to run away from the thing that wants to hurt her, rather than towards it. Nobody has to tell her that the Garou don't need her protection or her help -- at least not with this, with what they're literally born and bred to do, which is kill things like this. Nobody has to tell Erika not to be a fucking hero.
And a good thing, too, because anyone who might tell Erika any of these very important things is too busy lunging forward to, well
be heroes. Of a sort.
The thing slams down and the ground shakes and rumbles and shudders. Sinclair lets out a roar -- of what sounds like aggravation. Annoyance. Defiance. She keeps her feet even as a pylon snaps. She doesn't seem phased. She roars again, lunging towards the thing.
[1a. YOU SHALL NOT PASS!
1b. bite shamu. dex + brawl + perun - 3 (split) -1 (moon) / diff +1 (steelfur)]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6) Re-rolls: 3
[Dreams In Summer Snow] [Harmony is taking an action to get up.]
[Victor Oseragighte] Staying on!
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 5, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [Victor stays on thing. Dreams is getting up. Warcry approaches. If you wanna roll a reflexive charisma + intimidation for your galliard yawp, Kai, go ahead!]
[Warcry] [reflexive: YAWP! (-1)]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 6, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [i'll round up. taking -2 dice off monstar attacks for rest of round! roll damage!]
[Warcry] [*puts earlier post/roll HERE*]
[Warcry] [damage! str + 2 + 5]
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[-benthic-]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[-benthic-] These are no ordinary mortals. Even the one that stays in her human shape because she has no other shape to go into is stronger, possessed of harder will, than any human has a right to be.
Some go down; they get right back up. Others keep their footing. Victor's knives flash and glint, burying in the creature's side(? neck? what is it?) as he pulls himself up -- surreally dexterous. Sinclair leaps between the creature and the kin, loosing a snarl so resonant with threat that even without eyes, even without ears, the creature seems to register it
and shrink a little.
[-benthic-] [Mila's entire action is spent getting up/running. Ruarc!]
[Ruarc o'Conaill] Ruarc rushes forward. The thing slams down and the Fianna staggers but keeps moving. Calling on his tribal gifts, he leaps, claws aimed for the things back to dig in and start climbing up along it to claw at the slimy exposed skin.
[Salmons leap! sta + ath]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 7)
[Erika] Erika falls flat on the concrete. It hit her HARD. The world just didn't make sense anymore. She can't even think straight. There's nothing other than black and red. Oh... she's on the ground. It registers. There's a weight everywhere. When people say they feel as if they've been hit by a bus, they don't mean this. There's no pain, nothing of anything.
Stunning is the process of rendering animals immobile or unconscious prior to their being slaughtered for food. Dr. Alexander knows the lack of pain is a survival mechanism, a last-ditch effort on the part of the brain. All she can feel is the weight, the rage, and the confusion. There's a lot of nothingness.
Get up! something starts kicking way down deep in her soul. Move your ASS!
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [Leap! str + ath target 3 (10 feet/suxs)]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 3)
[-benthic-] [dex + ath vs diff 8 to stay on!]
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [stay on! dex + ath target 8]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 6, 6, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 8)
[-benthic-] [Ruarc stays on like a pro! Greg is rageshifting and running! Simon's turn. You'll need to at least split an action to get up, or fight grounded.]
[-benthic-] [wait -- ruarc's splits first!]
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [1b. Claw! target 4 -3 split]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 5, 6, 8 (Success x 6 at target 4)
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [damage! +5]
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [1c Claw Target 4 -4 split]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 4) Re-rolls: 1
[-benthic-] There's a reason the Fianna train their cubs in ways that look like games to outsiders. Bound-foot racing. Fending off defenders buried waist-deep in mud. Leaping over successively higher barriers.
It's to prepare them for situations like this. It's to guide and shape their bodies until they're capable of simply springing off the ground, shooting straight up thirty feet, and landing on the writhing, twisting back of a creature not of this earth.
Two Garou riding the proverbial hurricane, now. Both of them lashing out with claws.
[thing soak 1!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 4, 5, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [dam +3]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 4, 6, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [soak again!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 6, 7 (Failure at target 6)
[Gregory] [rawr Crinos-dylan]
[-benthic-] [nomfling!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 5, 6 (Failure at target 6)
[-benthic-] Blindly, the creature's jagged, tubular mouth strikes for Sinclair. It's so close that she can smell its fetid, briny scent. It misses her by a hair, sucks up a mouthful of debris instead -- flings that lakeward with a snap of its head, so far and wide that they can see the water pinging yards and yards out.
[Victor Oseragighte] Despite the shockwave he scrambles up across the creature's back, using his claws to dig in and score it as he goes.
(( Claw with Rear bonus! ))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 6 at target 4)
[-benthic-] [1 minute warning, wind!]
[-benthic-] [hurr, ignore me. soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Victor Oseragighte] Damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[Warcry] It isn't hard to understand the barking that Warcry lets out when the thing tries to bite her, grab her, toss her around like a rag doll. To the other Garou, it sounds suspiciously like a FUCK OFF. She doesn't even try to dodge it. She probably wouldn't have anyway. She isn't known for backing down from the potential for pain. She's known for causing it, however.
[R1. NOM! dex + brawl + perun -1 (moon) / diff +1 (steelfur)]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 8 at target 6) Re-rolls: 3
[Warcry] [+7]
Dice Rolled:[ 15 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 5, 6, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[-benthic-] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 6, 6, 7 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[-benthic-] The creature's back is at once slick and sticky -- a scaleless hide over twisting, heaving muscles, all of it coated in a wet, gelatinous slime that makes for treacherous footing even for the most agile of Garou.
It doesn't deter the two Garou on is back. Ruarc sends a chunk of its body splattering messily outward with a swipe of his claws. Victor, another.
Then, coming in from below, dark fur gleaming metallic -- the sole Fostern in this wreck. Snarling, she lunges in, and like she has for so many others --
tears its fucking guts out.
There's no death-scream. There's no shriek, no roar; nothing but the distorted, scattered seizing of a nerve-net suddenly gone haywire. The creature thrashes and waves in the air, forcing Ruarc and Victor to dig in with all four paws to hold on. It slams itself into the beach over and over and over until the Garou must roll free, dart free, get out of its range --
-- and finally goes still.
The water is not still. The water churns and froths. Fifty, a hundred yard away, the lamprey-mouthed thing the Guardians are locked in battle with suddenly begins to recede. It has one of the Guardians in its grip: Height of Mountains, perhaps, struggling and snarling in the sucking coils of the lake-monster. They can dimly hear his outraged roars, and they can hear when they abruptly cut off as the monster drags him under the surface.
[one round to free-post/prepare as you like!]
[-benthic-] [At the beginning of next round, you will all have regenerated to:
Shamu dead, 3 overkill.
Victor 4B
Dreams 2B
Warcry OK
Mila OK
Ruarc +2
Greg 1B
Simon 2B
Erika 5B]
[-benthic-] [er, by "next round" i mean this free-posting round.]
[Erika] There is blood and black ichor everywhere. Debris and dust. Ashes. She tastes copper in her mouth. Like a feral animal, almost like a small cub, she whimpers and scrambles away as best as she can. Everything is a blur, and likely the kin weaves while struggling to clear the field. She's vaguely aware that certain parts feel broken. There's pressure and a wave of pain. Oh, god...
The rush of it feels exactly like before. Her brother's face twisted in rage. Oh, but this doesn't stop her movement. She's in full flight mode, and after she gets over the initial wave, adrenaline kicks in, forcing her heart into overdrive and beating her mind into focus on her one goal.
Her whole body shakes, and she knows it's not long before the adrenaline gives. The kin doesn't quite run, she stumble-shuffle-runs, zigzagging through the wreckage of the street.
[Ruarc o'Conaill] There is no stillness like that after an enemy falls. Where ragged growly breaths are the only sound to disturb the silence that sweeps in after the alarm of battle. The Fianna ahroun comes to its paws having rolled away from the creature in it’s death throes. He looks around to the others, quickly scanning each of them. The kin stirs, alive but stunned. The others… They are already healing. He growls and tears at his fur.
Then the other battle draws his attention. His eyes widen as he sees the thing drag one of the warders under the surface. He snarls and crushes the small round wooden disc he had pulled from his fur into his chest.
~Prepare yourselves! Be ready to strike again! Spread out!¨
[1gn – soak talen]
[Victor Oseragighte] He turns, wanting to go after the man but unable to on too many levels, panting from his wild ride as he takes this moment to pull forth a small befeathered clay shield. Rather than drop down he moves to the highest point on the corpse, so that from there he can spring onto the new threat, and crushes the shield to his chest, feeling it invigorate him.
(( 1 gn - soak talen ))
[Bone-Grinder] Simon retained his war form. His eyes scanned the water as it continued to churn, they needed to get into the water itself. Whatever this thing was looking as if the majority of it was hiding under the water and not rising to the surface. He watched as one of the guardians was dragged under the water. Pointing his finger and laughing somehow didn't seem the kind of response that would win him many points in his new sept.
"Same drill..."He tells Mila as he begins backing away from the bubbling of the water. His attention goes to where the Garou was dragged under. You can survive 2 maybe three minutes before you lose consciousness under water. With any luck the boy would hold his breath just fine, either way the battle would be over long before that. Provided he wasn't already dead there was still plenty of time to rescue him.
"No one go in the water."He also warns. That things territory was the water and they didn't have a chance in hell down there. The only way to kill the thing would be to lure it onto the land or as close to the land as they could.
[Stormbreaker] Mila snarled and stalked the water's edge - not close enough that it could very easily pick her off - but close enought that when it emerged again, she'd be ready this time.
Her packmate gets a glance and a small nod. It looked a little odd in Hispo, but, it worked well.
[Gregory] The shock wave knocks gregory off his feet, pushing the wind out his lungs. His eyes sting, gravel and dust blown up by the massive slam from the creature. He barely has time to even react. All he can manage is to let out a raspy little snarl as his body changes, thin wispy little Gregory turning into a hulking monstrosity. But by the time he stands, by the time he can even get his shit together enough to face this creature.. it has already been destroyed.. ripped to shreds by the other faster,stronger and more skilled garou all around him. For a moment he feels a rush of shame. He slowly makes his way forward, eyes upon the water.
[Dreams In Summer Snow] A Garou he doesn't know is dragged under the water, and the others around him seem to be entirely cool, level-headed. Even in Hispo, the look Harmony gives toward the choppy waters is shaken. He has a tender heart, the Philodox, and the thought of the other drowning beneath the water has him grieving even before the battle is lost.
There's a moment of shame hot on its tail: he was knocked off his feet, didn't even manage to harm the creature, while the much more experienced Fostern ripped it apart. But he has to push it out of his mind. Harmony steels himself, looks around to see whether he should heal anyone or save it for later on, and in the end, he decides on the latter.
There's a fleeing Kinswoman. He almost chases her down, but her injuries are bruises, superficial. They'll fade, and right now they need every Garou here at the edge of the waters.
[Warcry] She watches as the thing dies, dispassionate except for rage still burning, coiling inside of her, wanting outlet. Only when it snaps to the ground does she spit slime out of her mouth and whip her head around to check on Erika. Once. Quickly, then back around, surveying the others. They're not too badly hurt. Not badly hurt at all, in fact.
The Ahrouns present bark out orders one after the other. She is aware of what has happened to Height of Mountains. She is also aware that there are other Guardians there. She notes, and she will remember, that not a one of these Cliaths rushed off to dive in after him. She notes, and she will remember, the orders of the two Full Moons present. She will note, and remember, that the Child of Gaia who looked bothered by the sight of her -- and Sinclair knows what she looks like on nights like these, knows how sickly she appears when no Garou, ever, should get sick without some Wyrm toxin in their veins -- held his ground against an enemy rather than scrambling to heal the bruises of a Kinswoman, whose connection to their kind will heal her in hours. A day or two. Faster than any human.
Remembering these things is, after all, part of her job.
Sinclair is silent for awhile, eyes on the water, and then barks out: "I'll tease it inland if I can! Same as before -- take its flank and back. It'll drop as fast as the first one!"
That last is barely words, even. Just howls, yips: confidence, encouragement, praise for them all. But their minds know it, their instincts understand that tone: Ain't nothin' but a thang. We GOT this.
[Warcry] [charisma + expression -1: guys we are like so awesome you don't even know i totally mean it.]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 6, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [+1 WP or Rage to each. You pick which!]
[-benthic-] Somewhere down the shore, a Guardian is dragged underwater. One of his packmates dives in after him with a howl of fury. The rest of the Guardians and Sept Elders race along the shore, too experienced to panic.
Meanwhile, here, twenty yards offshore, the lake is still churning and sloshing. Abruptly, a second blind, seeking head breaks the surface. It rears up. It smashes itself against the shore with tremendous force.
And then another. Rearing; smashing.
And another.
And another.
That's when they understand. That's when it comes together in their mind's eye. It's not a swarm of water-wyrms they're fighting after all. It's a single, massive creature, most its bulk invisible beneath the black lake.
Dragging itself out of the water now. Pulling itself heavily, laboriously forth: wet with slime and water, boneless arms curling and sucking and swiping through the sand. One wraps around a crumbling sheaf of concrete. Coils tight. Strains the massive body another yard, two, three, onto the wet shore before the concrete simply crumbles under the pressure. Another arm is reaching, reaching, swiping dangerously close to Ruarc's leg as it searches for purchase on the shore.
Half a dozen arms or more in all, each some thirty or forty feet long. Each ends in a tooth-ringed maw. Each thickens at the base to conjoin at a soft, deformable head just now cresting out of the water, rising and rising, squirming and pulsing with muscular contraction. The head itself is easily as massive as a small house.
Ovaloid, lidless eyes are set into that fleshy cephalus. Not two but twenty, forty, more: eyes that roll and gleam in every direction. Strange, horizontal, keyhole pupils give it a lazy, alien look, as though it couldn't be bothered to care about creatures so puny and insignificant as they,
even as it drags itself out of the water to kill them all.
[let's go ahead and reroll inits. remember wound penalties!]
[Gregory] [+6]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9
[Stormbreaker] {+8}
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9
[Bone-Grinder] [+7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 6
[Warcry] [+9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3
[-benthic-] +20 Paul
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4 (Failure at target 6)
[Dreams In Summer Snow] 8
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [Init +8]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 6
[Victor Oseragighte] He's silent. Still. Waiting. Ready. His body was a mass of bruises and aches from blast the first beast had levied against them, but he could not allow that to slow him now, to keep him from his duty. Crouching, legs bunched up beneath him, claws dug into the first worm, he is all predator now, awaiting his prey.
When it emerges, he goes from motionless as a mountain to utter blur, refusing to let the leviathan's size daunt him.
(( Spending Gnosis for an extra +10, for +27 with WP ))
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5
[Erika]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 2, 7 (Failure at target 6)
[Erika] gah wrong way))
[Erika] 3
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-benthic-] Victor 32, 3B
Paul 24, OK
Dream 17, 1B
Mila 17, OK
Greg 15, OK
Ruarc 14, +2
Simon 13, 1B
Sinclair 12, OK
Erika 9, 5B
Declare in reverse!
[Erika] The doctor turns around, kicks ass, takes names. No, wait. She runs. Like a good kinfolk.
[Warcry] [1a. Taunt/move: HAHA lookit me! I'm so shiny! You wanna CHASE me, don't you? Yes you do, you big turd.
1b.
1c.
R1. -- bites!]
[Bone-Grinder] 1a: Claw Fur Gnarl Spot
1R: Claw again same
2R: Claw again same
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [Declare
1a. Leap onto Pauls head!
1b. Claw!
1c. Claw!
Rage 1. Claw!
Rage 2. Claw!
Rage 3. Claw!
[Gregory] [1a mothers touch erika]
[Stormbreaker] {1a. Bite/Fur Gnarl Paul! 1b. Repeat
Rage 1 - Bite
Rage 2 Bite again. NOM}
[Dreams In Summer Snow] [1: Bite!]
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [Re-Declare
1a. Leap onto Pauls head!
1b. Claw!
Rage 1. Claw!
Rage 2. Claw!
[-benthic-] Paul
...takes actions a bit differently than most monsters. Due to proliferation of mostly independent arms, he has double-actions that go off in pairs:
1a Grabsquish Warcry!
b Throw Warcry!
R1a Grabsquish Ruarc!
R1b Pound Ruarc against rocks!
R2a Smack Stormbreaker
R2b Smack Dreams
R3a Smack Greg
R3b Bite Simon
R4a Grabsquish Erika
R4b AoE SLAM!]
[Victor Oseragighte] 1a Leap into midst of eyes!
1b Bite way into fleshy head through eyes!
1c Bite way into fleshy head through eyes!
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [Re-Declare
1a. Leap onto Pauls head!
1b. Claw!
Rage 1. Evasive Action Grabsquish!
Rage 2. Claw!
[-benthic-] [Paul is going to use R1b to grabsquish Victor instead!]
[Warcry] [Changing 1a to Dodging That Shit Thank You]
[Victor Oseragighte] Dex + Athletics!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 3)
[Victor Oseragighte]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 6, 7 (Success x 2 at target 7) [WP]
[-benthic-] [+2 diff for targeted bite; special effects will come into play with enough damage.]
[Victor Oseragighte] Damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[-benthic-] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 8, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Victor Oseragighte] Bite 2!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 2, 8 (Success x 1 at target 7)
[Victor Oseragighte] Damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 6, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[-benthic-] As the monster beaches itself in pursuit of prey, Victor is the first to act. Calling on his totem's swiftness and dexterity, the Wendigo leaps onto the fleshy head. Instantly, six or seven nearby eyes swivel to fix on him.
When he bites down, the creature's hide is rubbery and foul-tasting, cold as the lake itself. It's thick, too -- two enormous bites have yet to breach to the fragile, wet nerve-tissue beneath.
[3A cumulative to head. No effects yet.]
[-benthic-] 1a Grabsquish Warcry!
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Warcry] [dex + nada -1 (moon) / diff +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 5, 7 (Failure at target 7) [WP]
[-benthic-] [Crush +4!]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[Warcry] [*yelp!*]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [1b Fling!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 2, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 8 at target 6)
[Erika] Erika continues moving. Anything to be away from this fray. She hears the roar of Garou voices and the crashing of water. The fight ensues and she continues running. WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING.
She stumbles over some debris and keeps her scrawny ass moving. Away from the water and group of furry chainsaws.
[-benthic-] [dam +7; each succ before soak is also 5 yards of distance.]
Dice Rolled:[ 15 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 4, 5, 7, 7, 8, 8, 8, 8 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Warcry] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 5, 7, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Warcry] [D:]
[-benthic-] The eyes staring at Victor are each the size of a basketball. They're not perfectly round. They're flattened, as deformable as the head itself, and utterly devoid of pity. Or rage. Or any emotion other than recognition.
I see you, those eyes say, while twenty feet below a tentacle wraps around what is easily the strongest wolf of the lot,
squeezes until blood bursts bright from her mouth,
and flings her twenty-five yards away to lie broken and unconscious.
[Dreams In Summer Snow] Harmony, on his turn, will instead go to Mother's Touch Warcry: she'll probably be much more helpful in taking this down than he will.
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 5)
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [Leap! str + ath target 3(Salmons leap) -2 split]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 3)
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [1b. Claw! -3 split +2 target for going for squishy eye!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 8) Re-rolls: 4
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [dam split roll 8 dice of 15]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [dam split 7 dice of 15]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 5, 5, 5, 6 (Failure at target 6)
[-benthic-] [soak the squish!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 5, 7, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[-benthic-] Ruarc's claw strips away another layer of tough, pale flesh. Victor can see something beneath now: darker, more complex tissues and organs.
[Stormbreaker] {1a. Bite/Fur Gnarl Paul. Rar! -2 split}
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[Dreams In Summer Snow] [Harmony: Running to Sinclair, preparing to use Mother's Touch next turn.]
[Stormbreaker] {Try AGAIN! 1b - 3}
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 6, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 4, 4, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Stormbreaker] {Damage +3}
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [I'll round up -- -1 soak on fur gnarled spot!]
[Gregory] [mothers touch on erika (WP)]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6) [WP]
[Bone-Grinder] [Striking Fur Gnarl Spot Dex+Crinos+Brawl = 8 Dice diff 8!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 6, 6, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 8)
[Bone-Grinder] [Str+Crinos+Razor Claws+1 for claw Maneuver]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 4, 5, 5, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[-benthic-] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [sorry, -1 die]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [sinclair's out; erika is running. victor has no rage actions. back to paul!
grabsquish Ruarc!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 5, 6, 6, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Warcry] Sinclair was never good at avoiding pain.
This is going to hurt you, a part of her mind tells her, and she ignores it. Look at her body. Look at the metal she's put through various bits of her own skin. The massive tattoos, the piece of scarwork that only a few people have ever seen in its totality. She does not enjoy pain. But she does not fear it. At least not the physical kind.
Warcry is a very strong wolf. A very honest one. A good Galliard, though not the type to play an instrument and sing at campfires or even tell tall metaphorical tales at the moots. The archives of GWnet bear every story she knows, every life she's recorded, every battle she's fought in or heard about. She often gives no analysis at all. She often gives no opinion at all. This is what happened, and I know because I was there. This is what so-and-so said happened, when I was not there.
For the few moments that she is lost in darkness, her consciousness crushed like one of those pylons, dragged under like Height of Mountains, Sinclair does not know what happens. She doesn't know what the monster is doing to Ruarc, and she doesn't know what Victor can see, and she sure as hell doesn't know that Dreams in Summer Snow has turned around and started bolting towards her.
Her body -- still hispo-formed, still shielded by and sheathed in steel -- skids and scrapes across the ground. Erika could see her go by, flung like a stone from a sling by the creature's arm. She hits the ground so hard that, yes, blood flies out of her mouth, and from a crack to her head. If she were human, she'd be pulverized. Ribs to dust, organs splitting like old wineskins. The damage this would have done to her without being what she is would have, very likely, taken her obscenely close to death.
Sinclair is not human. No matter what tribe she's from, no matter what she can do with a computer or how good she is at video games or how well she drives or deals with monkey toys, she is. Not. Human. Even other Garou from feral and savage tribes cannot mistake her for human. She can't even pretend all that well to be human, not on her best days.
This is not one of her best days. Sinclair is a dark, angry, bitter, pained thing when her moon is waning. That which is wicked and angry inside of her rises up heavy and vicious so much easier than usual, as when the moon is a little brighter, a little fuller, a little less wasting.
That thing is lucky, right now, that she is unconscious.
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [Evasive!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6) [WP] Re-rolls: 1
[-benthic-] [self damage!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 6, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 5, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [R1b changed to smack Ruarc around. +1 diff.]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 7, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 7)
[-benthic-] [dam +2!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [soak! +2 soak talen]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [Dex + ath]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [dream has no rage actions; mila!]
[Stormbreaker] {Rage 1 Bite. Grrr!}
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 5 at target 5)
[Stormbreaker] {+4. Take.. that!}
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 7, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[-benthic-]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[-benthic-] Wherever they go, eyes are following them. Dozens upon dozens in that swollen, limp head: alien, glassy, blank, with their strange pupils and their strange, listless shapes.
Ruarc plays hide and seek with a tentacle; dodges just so and makes the thing smack itself. It does not seem outraged. It does not cry out. It simply recalculates, retargets, and smashes the Fianna hard enough to rip fur from his hide.
He stands firm, though. And below, one of the two Shadow Lords of Dark Sky tears a chunk from the base of a tentacle.
[-benthic-] [gregory: no rage actions.
ruarc: action taken.
simon!]
[Bone-Grinder] [Hit that fur Gnarl Spot Spend a WP!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8) [WP] Re-rolls: 1
[Bone-Grinder] [Damage]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [soak! -1]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 4, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [Sinclair out; Erika running; Victor has no rage actions.
Paul, R2a! Smack Stormbreaker.]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 5, 6, 6, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [Dam +3]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 4, 6, 7, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[Stormbreaker] {Soak it like you mean it!}
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 5, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[-benthic-] R2b. Smack Dreams!
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 5, 5, 5, 6, 7, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [dam]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [CP roll soak!]
[Warcry] The little gaffling that Dreams in Summer Snow met by the rocks before all this began wasn't very big. Two long, slinky-like arms with four cylindrical fingers on his tiny hands. A heavy-treading wheel to roll around on. Not much of a face. Tiny oval eyes with a faintly blue, intelligent light shining from within. Neat, shiny metal body kept polished and clean by a certain obsessive Silver Fang packmate who he believes entirely is his servant that Nice Wolf Girl Who Also Hates Rust Yay brought for him. To polish him and keep him tidy-shiny.
Tripoli is adorable. He's sweet. He clings to the Coke can shield Sinclair's ex made for him and wailed (EEEEE!) when she tried to take it away. He's a cute little metal elemental, yes he is.
He taught Sinclair the gift of turning her own fur to steel. He taught her by turning his own body to vicious spikes. Small ones -- he isn't very strong. But he taught her that, and she loves him. She strengthens him. She keeps him safe. She doesn't let him go into battles with her because he might get hurt against the big, strong things that she fights and kills. He's so little, after all.
Tripoli is also, simply, an elemental. He is metal. Sharp. Gleaming. Hard. Refined.
And at the moment, unhappy.
When he appears, suddenly, not at Sinclair's side but in the thick of the battle near the shore, near the beast, Tripoli is not a few inches high but closer to two feet. Those eyes of his are a brilliant, vicious orange, as if he's containing an explosion in that hard body of his. The cylindrical fingers are sharpened now and his flexible arms aren't flailing around like a muppet's. He is shaking, violent and tremulous, staring at the creature from the water as something
something
whirrs up inside of him, coming closer and closer to an earsplitting whine, a shriek.
[-benthic-] [okay, Dream takes 1B. onward! dream's done for this round. mila's R2!]
[Stormbreaker] {R2. I will tear your tenticle off with my teeth! Bite}
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 5)
[Stormbreaker] {+1 Damage}
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 6, 6, 6, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Dreams In Summer Snow] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 5, 5, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 6, 7, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [greg's done; ruarc!]
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [Rage 2. Claw eye! dex + brawl + ancestors= 11 +2 target called shot]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7 (Botch x 2 at target 8)
[-benthic-] Little by little, bit by bit, the Garou -- circling, wheeling, snapping, vicious -- are chipping away at the colossus.
An eerie silence shrouds the beast. The Garou are snarling, their teeth clapping shut. The monster: the only sound it makes is the rasp of gravel under its bulk. The wet, soft pops of suction as it grips the Garou and flings them. The heavy, fleshy slaps as it beats them back with tentacles as thick as tree-trunks.
Even as it begins to leak blue-black blood, even as it begins to weaken, it makes no sound. Its eyes show no fear, no remorse, and above all, no mercy whatsoever.
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [Self damage! str + 2(claws) +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [soak + 2 talen]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 5, 5, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Bone-Grinder] [Just clawing!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Bone-Grinder] [Damage]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[-benthic-]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 5, 5, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [sinclair down; erika runnin'; victor done. back to paul!
R3a. Smack Greg!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 8, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [dam +4]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 6, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[Gregory] [soak +3 crinos+3 talen]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 4, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[-benthic-] Thus far the only pain they've known has come from heavy, sweeping swings of the tentacles. Early on, the creature had attempted a single bite on Sinclair, dropping one of those lamprey mouths on her from above. It missed. It didn't try again.
That's about to change.
The noise comes from the ground itself. It comes from the beast heaving its immense bulk up on its tentacles; utterly boneless protrusions that stiffen by sheer muscle power. It lifts itself, and they see for the first time the what's beneath the head:
not an squid's beak but a smiling human mouth with lips, with enormous flat teeth; with a tongue that slathers across those lips in an unmistakeably obscene gesture.
That mouth drops atop Simon. And bites.
[-benthic-] [R3b. chomp Simon! +1 diff for awkward positioning]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 6, 7, 7, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 7)
[-benthic-] [dam +2 -- aggravated!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Bone-Grinder] [Yay Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 5, 6, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-benthic-] All this time, Erika's been running. She's a good ten, twenty feet away. She can see the embankment, the slope up to the road. She's almost away from this madness. Almost safe.
The only warning she gets it a sudden rattle of stones behind her.
[R4a. Grabsquish!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [dam]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 6, 7, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Gregory] [soak]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 6, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[-benthic-] It comes so close to her, so close, that Erika can feel the first wet kiss of its suckers. Then there's a blur -- a brownish, dappled, dirty flash of fur. When the beast from the deeps wraps its tentacles tight and squeezes, it's not a frail, almost-human body that cracks and crushes in its grip but a snarling, twisting direwolf.
[-benthic-] R4b. Annnnd SLAM again!
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [shockwave dam, +4]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 4, 6, 6, 7, 7, 7, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 8 at target 6)
[Gregory] [soak]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 3, 3, 5, 10, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[Victor Oseragighte] Soak
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Stormbreaker] {SOAAAAAKKKK!}
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 6, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [soak! +2 talen]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Bone-Grinder] [Soak]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Warcry] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 3, 3, 7, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Dreams In Summer Snow] [Soak]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Erika]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Erika] Silent so far except for a few groans and Russian curses, the kin glances behind her... and her mind doesn't quite wrap around what it is she sees. There's just something so completely wrong about it. She hears a rumble, and feels something touch her... the ichor.
A wolf took a hit for her. She doesn't quite comprehend the situation. After a stumble on a curb, she keeps fucking running. She's not prepared to see this. But for some reason, a chortle escapes her. She's not smiling, there's just a sound. A giggle... something from the dark parts of her brain. Something snaps in her mind.
((Flavor post before the ko))
[Dreams In Summer Snow] [Dex + Ath]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 7, 8, 8, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[-benthic-] The first time this happened, it was a single tentacle. A single, snakelike appendage that they mistook for an entire monster, an entire beast, slamming itself into the earth to send a ripple of shock fifty yards across the caern.
This time, it's much worse. The beast raises all tentacles. Some are weak and wavering from so much damage. Some are muscular, steady. All rise, and then all of them, every last one of its powerful, slippery appendages drop as one.
The shockwave that booms out from that impact is enough to shake apart the rusting goliath of a ship some quarter-mile down the shore. It's enough to knock concrete asunder; enough to burst eardrums and collapse lungs.
Enough to drop every last one of them to the ground, stunned, dazed, except for one lone Child of Gaia.
Dreams in Summer Snow sees the wreckage. He sees how his septmates are mown down, grass before the conflagration. He sees how they crumple, bones rattled out of sockets, internal organs crushed by the pressure. They fall like so many leaves
and are still
but only for an instant.
--
[Round summary! At beginning of next round, your HPs are:
Victory 2L, 4B
Dream 5B
Mila 1L, 5B
Greg 3L, 3B
Ruarc 3A, 3B
Simon 3L, 4A +L --> Reverted to breed form and unable to regenerate, close to death
Sinclair 5L, 1B
Erika 1L, 6B --> cannot regenerate
Everyone except Erika and Simon are conscious and can act.]
[Warcry] [grrr]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 4)
[Victor Oseragighte] The next shockwave hits Victor and presses him INTO the muck that was the beast's eye. There is a moment when he blacks out, he is certain, and then he remembers where he is, his vision hazy, his head swimming. He looks to Ruarc, as badly off as he is, and rasps, even as he fumbles for the talens he is now very thankful Karl has provided him.
-HT- "The nerves. We need to... hit the nerves. Vulnerable point. Once we can." He is not certain how that actually came out. His guttural growls sound distant and slurred to him.
[Warcry] [Tripoli: Init! +5]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1
[-benthic-] [init order is:
Victor
Dream
Mila
Greg
Ruarc
Simon
Sinclair
Erika
Tripoli
One post each if you want. Otherwise, declare in reverse!]
[Dreams In Summer Snow] He's alone.
Dreams in Summer Snow, who has presided over many judgments but has not been in many battles, is the last one left standing. He's a peaceful creature, given to suppressing that Rage Gaia has given him in favor of being fair, in favor of trying to be objective.
But he doesn't despair. If there is something he is guilty of at the moment, it's indecision. He doesn't want to allow this creature of the Wyrm, this tainted thing, anywhere near the interior of the caern. No matter what he tries, he might not be able to heal his allies enough to make a difference in time. So he thinks about flinging himself toward it, tearing, ripping. He's not the warrior Sinclair is, not the soldier Simon is, but in dire straits, sometimes that just doesn't matter.
But in the end, he sticks with what he knows. He's close to Warcry, and Warcry will doubtlessly launch herself toward it when she awakens, and he doesn't want her to be felled by some glancing blow. So he focuses on healing her first. Then, he'll help the rest.
[-benthic-] [er -- Paul is between victor and dream]
[Warcry] [Tripoli: Shrapnel Blast]
[Gregory] Gregory had watched sinclair go flying through the sky like a furry frisbee and made a quick judgement call. She had been too far way for him to help, she was strong anyway, she could handle herself. Instead he had moved towards the kin placing a hand upon her and healing her as much as he could before having to fend off two wallops from the too-friendly-paul. No touch! No grabby hands!
His bravado was short lived. The beast, raised up and pointed its slimy tentacles to the heavens before slamming them down upon the garou congregation. Gregory was caught completely off guard, the shockwave sending him scattering across the ground like a bowling pin.
[Erika] Laughing, laughing... it's caught high in the air in the seconds of stillness before the world goes dark. The earth here rumbles and cracks under the immense conflict.
Her grandfather, the Sept Elder, freely allowed his grandchildren into the bawn. They were strong-blooded-- all of them. It was useful having a close family. However, they are all pampered. None of them have been exposed to Weirdness such as this. The abomination writhes and stretches out its terrible glory and rips the ground asunder towards the horizon.
Glass shatters for several city blocks. It falls with the dust in a glittering grunge shower. The kinfolk's anguished, demented laughter stops when her world goes black. She collapses onto the street. She looks pretty rough for wear, completely prone.
[Bone-Grinder] Fuckin' bitch bit me! X.X Zzzzz
[Ruarc o'Conaill] The thing slams its tentacles into the ground and Ruarc is flung like a glove. He strikes the ground and everything goes black
It is with a ringing in his ears that he stirs to waking again. Instinctivly reaching for the talens that would mend broken bones and put him back in the fight. Lips curled back in a snarl as he rises defiant to stand before the monster.
[Declare
1a. GB Self (1gn)
1b. BB Self (1gn)
1c. Claw! (-5 split)
1d. Claw! (-6split)
[Warcry] When her eyes open, they are not the soft, ethereal blue than can look so much like the sky in summer over a different state, far from the cloudy, overcast lands of the Great Lakes.
What Harmony saw in her eyes at the rock wasn't weakness. It wasn't even sadness. It was something else entirely, just like that unnerving sense of the creature known as Warcry is not just her rage, but a predatory instinct that overtakes every other part of her. That keeps her away from her family. That pushed away --
It is just who she is. What she is.
And this. This is what she is, too: a monster, but an intelligent one. Sharp. Wise. Honorable. Vicious in battle. If she had her senses about her upon waking, she would know to wait for Harmony to fucking heal her, or slap a gourd over herself. She'd bolt back towards battle and, if necessary, heal others with the gourds she's carrying. She might look at the sky and see if it's cloudy, cast a storm feather up in the sky and take her totem's strength against it. She might do a lot of things.
But when Harmony gets to Sinclair, the Galliard is waking, and her eyes are all but glowing with fury. The Child of Gaia knows this. He should be able to feel it. Sinclair is gone. Warcry. Brutal Revelation... you can't even call her those names anymore.
This is when one understands why she was called what she was when she was a fosterling, just a cub in training:
Havoc.
No gourds this time. No patience. And it's a damn good thing that Harmony lays hands on her before she gets fully to her feet, before she wakes entirely, or else the poor Philodox might get torn apart in the midst of trying to save the Galliard's life. She might remember. She might not know anything of this, later. She might wake and wonder, again
what did I do?
Her wounds knit over her body, and consciousness flooded into her, and then awareness, realization, remembrance came with it, and Sinclair simply... snapped. Now she might as well still be unconscious, locked away inside of her own rage, her own frustration, her own need for this thing to die.
Twenty-five yards between it and her.
Dirt and gravel hit Harmony moments after he heals the Fostern, as her paws churn up the earth, tear it to pieces the way, it appears, she wants to tear apart the monster that did this to her. As she runs, the Galliard lets out a howl, but it's no concerted, concentrated thing. It is wild, loud, chilling, and positively slavering for blood.
[1. IIII'M RUNNIN'!
R1.
R2. -- NOMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOM]
[Erika] ((KO.))
[Gregory] [1a: mothers touch on simon
1b: gourd on self]
[Stormbreaker] {1a. Get back up!, 1b. Bite something that looks important!
R1. RAR, Bite again
R2. Rinse, repeat if needed}
[Dreams In Summer Snow] [Mother's Touch on Sinclair. Spending WP!]
[-benthic-] It wants to end them.
There is no compassion in its eyes, no intelligence other than a rudimentary, brutal instinct to crush and destroy and squeeze and devour. It raised its tentacles and slammed them down with mindbending force; dropped almost every last one of them to the ground. One of them comes so close to death a breath could end him.
One of them stands defiant.
And then -- the rest, too. Climbing back to their feet, a little slower and a little more deadly. Or springing to their feet; running toward the monster, blind with hate and fury and
yes: defiance.
In the creature's empty gaze there is no recognition of this sort of spirit. It does not understand how they can stand again, when they fell like wheat before its scythe. It does not understand and it does not admire, but perhaps -- in some primitive self-preserving way -- it fears.
It fights for its very survival now. And it is vicious.
[1a. GET OFF MY FACE! Tentacle bite Ruarc!
b. YOU TOO! Tentacle bite Victor!
R1a. Grabsquish Ruarc!
R1b. Grabsquish Victor!
R2a. Smack Gregory!
R2b. Smack Dreams!
R3a. Bite Mila!
R3b. Smack Simon!
R4a. Throw Sinclair!
R4b. Smack Tripoli!]
[Warcry] [NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. :[ Tripoli!!!]
[Bone-Grinder] [THrowing this out for when Simon gets healed! 1R shift to Hispo
1a. Get my skanky ass up
1b. Bite Pauls skanky ass
1R. Bite Pauls skanky ass]
[Victor Oseragighte] 1a Drink Spirit Brew
1b GB (- gn)
1c DON'T GET BITTEN!
[Victor Oseragighte] CHANGE
1a Drink Spirit Brew
1b GB (- gn)
1c GB (- gn)
[-benthic-] 1a. Bite Ruarc!
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [dam +3]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [Soak! +2 talen]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[-benthic-] 1b. bite Victor!
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 6, 7, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-benthic-] [dam]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 6, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Victor Oseragighte] Soak! Fingers and toes crossed!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 6, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Dreams In Summer Snow] [Mother's Touch, WP]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 10 (Success x 1 at target 4) [WP]
[Stormbreaker] {Can only stand.. not enough dice for the attempted split}
[Gregory] [-1G pain stuff, Mothers touch. dif 3]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 2, 8 (Success x 1 at target 3) [WP]
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [1a. GB 1b. BB]
[
1c. CLAW! -6 split]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 7, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [Dam +3]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Ruarc o'Conaill] [1d. Claw -7 split]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 6 (Failure at target 6) [WP]
[-benthic-] soak the first!
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Gregory]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8 (Success x 1 at target 3)
[Bone-Grinder] [Rage for Hispo! 1a. Get up! 1b. Bite a Skanky ass! Dex+Brawl+Hispo = 9 -3 dice! Diff 5]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 5)
[Bone-Grinder] [Str+Hispo+2+3 = 11]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 7, 7, 8, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[-benthic-]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Warcry] [Tripoli: BLAST!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[-benthic-] Its size is a disadvantage on land, but the thing is fast and strong. Lamprey mouths gaping, its tentacles slam into Ruarc, into Victor. A fine mist of blood explodes on impact. Flesh rends, but both Garou survive -- and heal themselves.
Below, the healers are frantic. Summer Snow slaps a heal onto Sinclair literally as she streaks by. Gregory double-times, raising Simon with one hand while clapping a gourd on his own chest with another.
The Shadow Lord attacks. He's young, he's cocky, he's a blunt weapon, but his form is perfect. His claws tear against hide as thick and impenetrable as rubber, scraping away matter and tissue but not
quite
killing it.
[-benthic-] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 5, 9, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[Warcry] They are great warriors. They can't forget that when they walk out of here -- and they will, every last one of them, walk out of here alive tonight. Fearlessly, the Fianna leapt on the back of the thing that came up out of the water to attack the sept. His sept. Quick-witted and athletic, the Wendigo jammed his bone dagger into the side of the thing and climbed onto it. Dark as night in their various fighting forms, the Shadow Lord packmates did what packmates do best, tearing at the thing to weaken it so the other could strike the wounded flesh. Even those who could not fight well did so anyway, keeping their eyes on their allies to heal them, to take care of them. They protected the kinswoman, who -- unlike so many -- was smart enough to run for her fucking life.
The highest ranked among them was picked up and thrown almost a hundred feet through the air to crash against the ground, and she was the first to be knocked unconscious by this thing. First to fall. First to lose her senses. So far from the others, she can't help them. Can't heal them, can't fight for them, and by the time she gets to the monster her rage won't be spent, oh no. She'll still want blood and vengeance. Maybe they can lure her towards the thing the Guardians are fighting.
Or they can dogpile on her to take her down. They're going to have to figure it out in a few seconds here, these strong, and noble warriors of Gaia. These wise healers. This clever kinswoman.
Blow after blow rains down. The thing swings its arms and crashes, and crushes, and hurts them, and in the midst of all of them is the Glass Walker's pet. Her numen. Her little elemental who is so sweet, and protective, and pleased by polishing, collector of Coke cans. Who is now larger, and angry, and vibrating so hard on the shoreline that his seams rattle, that the vibrant glow inside him is starting to look like something radioactive about to go.
It sounds like that noise he's always making, but this time the eeeeeeeeeeeee is low and heavy and stirring up all the strength he has. Which, truth be told, isn't very much. Simon, woken from his wounded slumber, launches at the thing, raking his claws over it in a fury because if they don't kill this thing soon it will kill every last one of them. It twitches, it moans... and then the goddamn gaffling explodes, sending a torrent of superheated metal shrapnel at the monster from the deep.
What is left behind of Tripoli is a single, dissipating puff of smoke that makes the air taste vaguely like a battery.
[-benthic-] [final tally:
Victor 1A, 2B
Dream 5B
Mila 1L, 5B
Greg 2B
Ruarc +2
Simon 2A, 3L
Sinclair 4L, 1B
Erika 6B
Tripoli (dematerialized!)]
[-benthic-] [enemies:
First tentacle: 10hp
Cthluluthing: 20hp]
[Warcry] [wp -3!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 5, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 7)
[Victor Oseragighte] For Victor, it was as if the lake itself had risen up to threaten the caern. Few take the Ways to heart as deeply as the Philodox, and there is perhaps no tenet held more dear than that last; a caern must be inviolate. It is a sacred place, and there are truly too few of them left in the world. He'd thrown himself against the beast and seen that it was not enough. In this city, to survive, to fight, he would have to become stronger.
Too much of his abilities came from his pack's patron now. Too little from himself. That had to change. He bled and ached and leaned there atop the beast, and then took that wickedly-sharp bone dagger and jabbed it hard into the beast's optic nerve, to make absolutely certain no vestige of life was left to it. Only then can he be certain and relax, and wonder at the fate of the two Garou who went under. And shudder, because he'd rather tunnel his way to the creature's brain with his own teeth and claws than face the dark wet crush of the lake's embrace.
[-benthic-] It's almost absurd. Of this company of diehard, desperate heroes, the one to strike last is a tiny metal gaffling so recently born of dreams of industry and steel that it hardly understands its own power. It doesn't know how to send shards of itself into the foe without literally blowing itself apart. It doesn't know how to control its own power, but when it, in fact, does explode apart into a shower of shrapnel:
one piece slices through the air perfect as a javelin. Sinks into a huge, glaring eye. Strikes some nerve-center buried deep.
All at once the monstrosity seems to have lost all control over itself. Every tentacle seems to want to go in four different directions at once. Lamprey mouths suck up huge amounts of lakeside gravel and sand; tentacles sweep and thrash and shake the ground.
Slowly, little by little, the seizing subsides. The monster's head droops, and then seems to deflate. As the last of its strength leaves it, it slides back toward the water as though trying to return to the depths -- but it's only gravity.
It falls still: half its bulk on land and half in water, where the buoyancy of fluid keeps it aloft. The limbs, moved gently by wavelets coming into shore, is very nearly graceful.
A few dozen yards offshore, Height of Mountains suddenly bursts out of the water with a great heaving gasp. He shakes his shaggy head and begins swimming for shore.
[-benthic-] [the limbs ... ARE very nearly graceful. i kan rite.]
[Dreams In Summer Snow] Harmony did not land a single blow against the monster from the lake. He tried, at first, but it became clear to him that instead he would be needed to heal, and so that's what he did. There are others here better suited to take on the Wyrm than himself, physically at least, and he has no shame in this. He isn't particularly skilled: Philodox he may be, but he's also a fifteen year old boy, and the body is complex.
He'll have to learn.
When Warcry rights herself, in a frenzy, and dashes past him, Harmony's eyes are wide, and he turns to let her pass, striking her with healing hands as she goes. And now it's over.
The first thing he does is look to make sure that everyone is still alive, that no one is unconscious. That Simon, who had taken his human shape, is able to get home. And then he assumes his own human shape and begins to walk, quickly, toward the crumpled form of the kinswoman outside the bawn. Reaching her, he asks, "Are you all right?"
[Bone-Grinder] Simon is a full moon, and right now he was in the office. He had just nearly died but within a heartbeat he was back on the field slashing and rending as if nothing had happened in the first place. He gave a furious snarl at the creature sinking beneath the waves... Crushed, defeated by the superior might of the garou and their collective strength. This wasn't a victory for Dark Sky or the Guardians, or any one individual this was a victory of the sept. Speaking of the sept there was one matter left to attend to and Simon was quick to snarl out an order to draw others attention. Within moments he was bounding in the direction the other Garou had been dragged under. It had only been a short few moments ago and if the Garou hadn't been crushed to death or swallowed yet then that meant he was still alive. The massive Hsipo fully intended to recover the Guardian from the jaws of death itself. When he caught sight of the massive figure, however, he slowed to a halt. Watched the others silently until all Garou were on land and safe and at that point the Full moon turned around and began to head back in the direction of the bat he left behind and walked slowly towards it. He needed to gather up his Bat and go catch an episode of True Blood somewhere. It's really hard to daydream about someone when you don't even know what she looks like after all!
[Erika] The fractured kin remains collapsed in the middle of the street, her temple kissing the pavement. She lies among the glitterdust of broken glass and debris from the utter carnage the Squid-creature has wrought.... in full material glory. The area around this part of the caern looks like a fucking urban war zone.
The kinfolk is still for now, her skin darkening in the developing bruises. True, she'd heal better than normal humans on her own. People havve their limits... Erika met her weirdness limit for the year with this encounter. Blood, ichor, dust, dirt... madness that wouldn't wash off. The clearly strong-bred kin wasn't fucking stupid, just not quick enough to get out of the way... but then who would be?
The unconcious kin is almost forgotten among the debris for now, as there is glory and victory to be thankful for. Honestly, it is much deserved. She does not reply to the Garou because she cannot. She remains still, a mess of grime, blood from superficial scrapes, bruises, and possibly a small fracture or two.
[Warcry] Take one part shock.
Add one part loneliness.
Shake together with cubes of memory of a childhood spent in the machine shop at the university, or the garage with dad.
Pour across the maddened eyes of the Fostern Galliard, and watch her suddenly skid to a stop right where her numen used to be. Watch her grunt, and twist around, and bark, and keen, and howl, and then toss herself on the ground, rubbing her head against the dirt until she takes herself out of something, yanks herself back from the edge of, frankly,
turning on all of them and finishing what the monster started.
Sinclair flops on one side and catches her breath, her side heaving. She stares, sideways, at the creature. Chuffs. She's still bloody, but it will heal. And quickly. A moment longer, Sinclair catches back her mind and her breath, and then rolls to her feet and looks behind her, towards the kinswoman. Who is with the Child of Gaia. So she is safe. Sinclair chuffs again. She shakes her head wildly, and
they don't speak about what almost was.
The work remains to deal with the body, to push it back out to Lake Michigan after it's Cleansed. If it just sinks, filthy as it is, other creatures will feed on it, take its taint into themselves. Sinclair cannot help with the Cleansing, but she helps push it back out as others are taking trophies. And eyes. She doesn't even want to know.
She's quiet now, this Galliard, which could be thought unusual. Her mind is rattled, and elsewhere. She does not realize she was healed at all from her wounds, so she does not know to thank Harmony for doing it. What she knows how to do, she does:
she waits for others who know how to Cleanse the creature. She helps get it back out to the water to sink. She watches it til it submerges, and she keeps all the things she did see tonight in her heart, locking them away. She remembers.
And when she leaves, she goes to find her fucking numen.
celebration.
9 years ago