[Kemp Oates] He returned Hatchet's acknowledgement as he kept both the approaching Nessa and the further back Hector in his sights. A hundred and one things went through his head. She needed money. She was going to stand on the street corner in that coat and freeze her tits off? Bills, she was bringing him bills. The list went on and on even with the bellowing of Hector.
[Soledad Gutierrez] Soledad, upon retrieving her pastry and offering some bills from her back pocket and murmered thanks, had retreated deeper into the room than just the bar and sat at a table that was meant to seat four. Her long legs crossed at the knees, her boot bounced loosely on her foot, and she held the pastry on whatever it was served on, be it napkin or plate, in one hand while actually consuming it with the other.
The woman with the pale eyes was observed, as well as her interactions with Truth in Frenzy. Then Hector came down the stairs, and Sol glanced to him before her attention was pulled to the door, where a woman that would be bland were it not for the color she splashed on herself entered, flanked closely enough by Hector that she thought for a few seconds that they were together, but was shown they weren't when they all but ignored each other. The woman, Nessa, made a beeline toward Truth in Frenzy while Hatchet joined her at her table and called to his pack and tribemate.
Then came Hector's response. Almost everything he did was loud, from entering a room to stomping his boots to speaking. He growled loud, he shouted ridiculously loud, and sometimes she swore that he just plain old thought loud. Her brows dropped a touch when the other Ahroun of Weasel's Gang bellowed loud enough to still the entire room for a few seconds, but rather than scowling too heavily, rather than let him grind her nerves already, she shut her eyes, leaned back in her chair, and ate her pastry.
[Hatchet] He resists the urge to yell something about Hector's mama. It takes grave effort on his part, but he does it out of kindness. They're not out somewhere safe where nothing will be broken, and frankly, he prefers to not smash all of Andrea's tables because he needs to calm his packmate down. Or because, in the midst of it, he will lose his own currently agitated (out of nowhere) temper and do something worth regretting.
Besides. Let Kemp have 'yo mama' quips. He has plenty else to throw back at Hector when there's less chance of ending with someone humiliated or owing Andrea a new chair or set of dishes.
Hatchet chooses, instead, to wince mightily and shake his head. "Christ, Hec, I ain't deaf," he says, walking over to meet him. "Tell me. Please. Where was this fabulous after party? But this time, use your inside voice."
[Meat Locker] Hector's big grin slips as his Alpha approaches, and he catches onto the tone of the Fianna's voice. He winds his scarf about his fists, and shrugs his shoulders once more. Waiting till Hatchet is right before him, he lowers his head, and says, almost contritely, so that only he can hear, "It was on top of my dick?"
[Soledad Gutierrez] (( *Snortgiggle* ))
[Hatchet] "But Hector," Hatchet says, in a stage whisper as he slings an arm around the other man's shoulders, "that after-party could only have gone...what? Five, ten minutes tops? Still doesn't explain why you didn't join us for cocoa."
It is good-natured teasing, but this is the man who cannot take a 'yo mama' joke from a Ragabash. His Alpha, who is occasionally mistaken for a New Moon (at the peril of anyone who comes under his judgment), is now taking a cue from The Truth In Frenzy School Of Taunting and going down another road: assaulting Hector's sexual prowess.
And though he sounds like he's kidding, there's still that lingering sense of sharpened and unhappy mood about him, and there's a certain gravity in his eyes. Though Hector may not be able to see it, Soledad or another might: he wants to see if Hector learned his lesson under the dock.
[Meat Locker] Unfortunately his lesson goes sailing over Hector's head. The big Garou allows himself to be pulled along by his Alpha, boots but dragging a little, scarf winding and unwinding about his fists like some furry Moebius strip.
"Cocoa? There was cocoa last night? I could kill for some right now, actually." He lets his brown eyes slide over to the counter, where baked goods are on display, and behind which rise the coffee machine other liquid goods. "Hmm. Fuckin' freezing out there. We sure ain't in Kansas no more, Toto," he says, and this time he smiles again at Oscar, a tentative smile, his humor offered as forgiveness for some transgression he doesn't quite remember making. Maybe he yelled too loud? He's always getting in trouble without meaning to.
[Kemp Oates] He rose, accepting the pictures with a nod down at the seat across from him.
"What kind of information?"
He glanced down at the pictures when he sat again and had to wonder again, how the fuck did he end up with such a monster sized kid? It had to be fate laughing at him for fucking a Lord. Somewhere Fenris was laughing his ass off while the Wyrm was cackling at him. That was it, it was pay backs for fucking up that last little project the Wyrm had going on. Or maybe exposure to the Wild when they blew things, had spread to his sperm and now he was shooting wild hair sperm? Oh man, his brain was going to pop in trying to figure it out.
[Agnessa Malikoff] So much for being ashamed of sinning.
Nessa beams at Kemp in just the sort of motherly pride which has Probably Little to do with the sense of secrets on secrets which her Shadowlord breeding offers.
Slowly she slips off the gloves covering her hands, folds them neatly-- but two of the fingers don't flatten out, as if something keeps them finger-shaped. Appropriate, since those same two fingers on her left hand are missing entirely. If she has a mate, she's got no ring on to prove it, or the finger to hold it on either. No scarf, not today, left in the van with the heavier coat.
Nessa beams again, and takes a seat, and then speaks in a lower voice, to keep the human ears out of what might kill them.
"Man i was sitting over there with, some nights back-- you came over to ask if things were well, and ahh told him you would see him soon? He is Detective John Thornton, Chicago vice department. I.. think he thought you were threatening him. I told him I had protective friends here, had not always chosen well with men."
And lied about the first, but not about the second.
[Hatchet] Hatchet is satisfied. Hector does not lose his temper, though this may have nothing to do with the fact that he has learned a bit of self-control from the Fenrir and more to do with the mention of hot chocolate. The Alpha suspects that Hector has some kind of neurobehavioral disorder that lends him to distractibility. Either way, Andrea's tables and chairs are saved.
He leads Hector towards Soledad's table, knowing full well the two Ahrouns do not always get along. "There was. I actually did not have any," he confesses, half-smiling at the other. "But come on, get some now. And maybe some biscuits. I had some biscuits here the other night?" He lifts his eyebrows. "The biscuits are fuckin' badass."
[Meat Locker] "Hmm, maybe I will," mumbles Hector, and then stops as they reach the table so that Oscar's momentum unclinches his arm from Hector.
"'ello, Sol," he says, and then drops his scarf over the back of a chair. "I'll go... see about that hot chocolate, then. And biscuits."
A moment of uncertainty, then he nods at them both and walks off towards the counter, eyes already glued to the glass front.
[Armstrong] She paused for the time being, looking out at the group again and just seemed to take it in for the time being. The Weasel's Gang was standing about, doing whatever any other pack would do. Standing around and just enjoying each other's company. It was healthy, and at that moment, she found it interesting.
She stood herself up though and headed on off to her room to go deposit her things somewhere reasonable.
[Kemp Oates] Yep, he was cursed. The Wild and the Weaver had gotten together and as per usual, fucked in his life. It had been proven to his satisfation that any one night stand made a kid. Infact, he no longer jerked off within a mile of a female for fear his sperm would find a fertile place to root. He listened to Nessa and then replied.
"Er. Ok."
[Soledad Gutierrez] Soledad had been watching Oscar and Hector as they made their way into the Brotherhood and toward her table. They reached it, and a greeting was offered. Soledad responded by nodding her head to him, which was what she did for pretty much everyone, because stoic was the game that she played. They'd been talking about parties, sex drive, and hot chocolate, and she only half-listened to what they had to say, so she had nothing to contribute to the conversation when they reached the table. Then again, she probably wouldn't even if she had been hanging onto their every word.
So they paused at the table, Hector looked awkward and uncertain (as usual), then turned to shuffle off for cocoa and biscuits. Soledad watched his retreating back, made to appear unnecessarily thicker by the multiple layers of flannel shirts he wore. Wordless, she finished off her pastry.
[Hatchet] Hatchet coasts into the chair across from Soledad, looking like he's starting to calm down now rather than just sounding like he already is. He smiles at his Beta and winks once, though it could mean anything. He glances at Hector's back across the room, getting him some biscuits and cocoa, and then tips his head at Soledad. "You could try harder with him," he says lowly, but not heavily. It's a suggestion. Or a question. The bastard is a master of the ambiguous tone.
[Agnessa Malikoff] "He has three --four perhaps times shown up where I am. I.. thought John was maybe to be friend. Silly, da? You would think by now, I would know better. He will not say if he is following me or not. I... wanted to warn you. He is better at not answering questions than I am. I don't know now what he wants. But I don't like that he followed me in here. I am being very careful not to be followed here now.
That is all."
Her information given, Nessa glances over to where a large man is at the counter. Not someone she recognizes, nor are most of the garou present tonight.
[Kemp Oates] "Ok, let me give ya a word of advise here Nessa."
He flicked his gaze towards the red jacket.
"If ya don't want to be seen, ya don't dress in red leather. If ya don't want to be followed by someone ya think is Vice, ya don't do them vices, or ya stay home where ya can kill the fucker if he comes in. Just make sure if ya shoot his ass outside the door, drag him half in before the cops get there. If ya worried about him following ya around, I can go have a little talk with him. Or...."
Now he shrugged.
"Maybe he thinks ya have a cute ass or he's horny? Maybe he wants ya?"
[Soledad Gutierrez] Sol's response was smooth, as though she had anticipated the comment from her Alpha. It would almost be percieved as smart-assery if one didn't know better. She had subtle humors, and they could be picked up on occasionally, but she still spoke with simple honesty even when she was (attempting) being humorous.
"I've yet to run him through with my spear. That's not trying?"
The question, of course, is rhetorical. Hatchet would know that. Were almost anyone else on the recieving end of that question, though, they'd think she was genuinely expecting a yes or no answer.
[Kemp Oates] ((And some Advice. Gah))
to Agnessa Malikoff, Andrea Locke, Armstrong, Hatchet, Lukas, Meat Locker, Soledad Gutierrez
[Agnessa Malikoff] The clothing advice, since Kemp is not apparently aware of her for the last couple of years, she ignores. But something else he says-- makes her blink. " Ah. I hope is no need for killing of him! But I am reasonably skilled in concealing evidence. No worries there. However... I just didn't want you to think he was someone ahh who should know anything he shouldn't. I Do have cute ass , don't I? Is back to good again! I worked very hard! " Nessa grinsm and then the pride fades. "I don't think is why he has been talking to me. He does not act interested like --"
Does he? No. She frowns.
"Well. I do not... encourage. Since you have set rules about who I may and may not ahh be with, to keep Luc with me. Anyways, I will warn Andrea to look out for him, and staff, to distract him from garou and such if he enters again."
[Meat Locker] Hands buried in the pockets of his jeans, Hector leans over the pastry counter, looking through the ghost of his reflection at a phalanx of chocolate eclaires. His breath mists the glass, and he absently rubs the mist away with the cuff of his sleeve. Humming to himself, he takes a small sidestep, and gazes down at a ziggurat of truffles. He seems distracted, at ease, nobody paying any attention to him, alone.
[Kemp Oates] "What I told ya was, if ya want someone, go for it. But ain't gonna be no other raising my kid."
His gaze sharpened for several heartbeats.
"Now, I don't know what he wants with ya. Ya might try fuckin asking him. I know what he seems to be as far as he ain't just a regular Joe. Now what I gotta ask you is this. Why are ya telling me all this, saying ya have information for me? He ain't threatened ya? Ain't arrested ya. Unless you're advertising you've got sticky damned fingers in front of him, I guess there's another reason he is following ya around. Like, maybe ya seem suspicious to him."
[Agnessa Malikoff] Any hint of perkiness or happiness slides off her face and shatters on the floor of the restaurant. A peculiar blankness instead, as she pulls the hell back.
"I thought you said, was.. kinsman of your Tribe acceptable. I have met none. Nor do I particularly think any would be interested in me, considering.. what I am. If you have changed your mind, and I may not be with ANY man and expect to keep my son, then please say so now.
As for John. I did ask him. And as I said. He would not answer.
As to why I told you of this-- is because a detective thinks you have threatened him, because you said something peculiar to him. I have nothing else to say. "
[Armstrong] She trotted down the stairs afterwards, coming back with a bag over her shoulder and a her hair pulled back out of her face. THen? She started to head on off to go order something to eat. There was no need to try and flag down a waitress, she wasn't really in a hurry to place an order. Then? Well, she meandered over to the pastry counter and just looked at it for the time being. Those light grey eyes were focused on chocolatey sweet things and truffles and who-knows-what.
The rather militant grouping of eclaires kept her attention though. But.. well, then there was the fellow scarf enthusiast there and she looked at him briefly. She waited a moment, then acknowledged his presence.
"So," she said. "What are you getting?"
[Hatchet] "For you, my dumpling?" he replies drolly, playing along. Hatchet lifts his hands and lays them together like he is about to pray, the long raking scars down both his forearms visible for the first time to anyone who hasn't seen him in the middle of changing his clothes. "That borders on saintlike restraint."
His hands drop again, and he leans back in the chair he occupies, draping one arm over the back. His attention drifts briefly over at Kemp and Nessa. Though he cannot hear them and is not trying to, they hold his eyes for a couple of seconds. Then Hector. He's checking on him. And Soledad again. "What do you think of Señora Locke?"
[Kemp Oates] "I really don't give a flying fuck if he thinks I wear pink panties or anything else. I simply don't give a fuck what he thinks. What I do know is he had a feel to him that was related. But that don't mean shit. Fuck, I done run into the otherside and they carried some of the same genetic makeup. Until I have time to grab hold of his ass, I won't know Jack shit. As for ya being with someone? I don't care Nessa. Honest to fuck, I don't care. Go, be happy. But tell me this. Is the kid with ya now, cause I don't see him."
He purposely looked around her.
"Are ya with him twenty four seven? I sure as fuck ain't near him any. Yet, I know he's out there and I survive. Same would happen for you. You'd get to see him, ya'd know he was well, ya could spend time with him. Besides, he don't need to be in the same house where his mommy is getting her freak on with whoever she happens to fall for. So ya see, ain't so bad when ya consider it all."
[Meat Locker] Hector startles, so engrossed in the delicacies before him he is. He looks down at Armstrong, and his eyes widen. She is gorgeous, delicate of jaw and bewitching of eye, with long dark hair that one simply wants to run one's hands through. His face turns red, and he looks away again. He's a big loaf of an oaf, built like a trucker and half as sweet, and never, almost never (when you add in the rage for extra zest), do beautiful young women speak to him of their own accord.
Which means that he's tongue tied. He clears his throat and frowns as he stares intently at the pastries, looking as if he's suddenly serious about passing a test, as if there was suddenly a right and wrong answer. He coughs again, takes a side step, and then sneaks another glance at Armstrong.
"I'm thinking... I'm thinking... cookies?" His assertive tone breaks at the last, and he states his choice as if he were unsure if they were what he really wanted at all.
[Soledad Gutierrez] There's a faint upward turning of lips, and that's the closest that she gets to a smile that week. The napkin she'd recieved her pastry on is folded over a few times, then set on top of the table, glaring and out of place, tipped on its side and partially unfolded now that her fingers didn't force it together, looking like a failed piece of oragami. This way she wouldn't forget to throw it away when she stood up.
The scars were nothing new to Soledad. She had a few of her own, though the majority of them rested on the trunk of her body. After all, when you hit something like a Garou Ahroun, you want to hit something vital, that way they don't have time to strike you back. That seemed to be the common strategy in her history of battles, anyways. Hatchet's scars she was familiar with. After all, when you literally travelled through Death Valley, long sleeves lost their purposes-- until the sun fell, anyways.
There's a patch of quiet, and both membes of Weasel's Gang looked from one patron to the next. The silence was broken when Hatchet asked what Soledad thought about the woman that ran The Brotherhood of Thieves. Of course, automatically, she shrugs. But, since this was a packmate, since this was Hatchet, she expanded on that just a little. "Very generous. Good taste in beer." ...Just a little.
[Agnessa Malikoff] He has a feel to him.. She frowns, and then her jaw drops, then shuts. "I do not think he has any idea then of this feeling. He says he does not have any family at all, save a foster family. "
This time, she leans in and speaks low, but fiercely to the Wyrmfoe. Her hands shake with intensity. But it is a very private thing she says, and so her voice is pitched low.
[Hatchet] They can be such children. Every last one of them, regardless if they are two months or twenty years past their first change, has an inner child who is either still a bit pissed off about being cheated or is running around in wonder at how new the world is every day. Hatchet has yet to meet a werewolf who does not contain the capacity for enormous immaturity, and has been quite pleased that the oldest, most scarred-up, highest-ranked Garou he's met typically come back to that with more ease than shapeshifters in their prime.
That is to say: they like cookies, and hot cocoa, and are socially awkward and insecure, and think that the girls (or boys) have cooties, and the only strange thing about all this is how quickly each one of them can go from that to digging their claws into something and tearing it apart, or pronouncing wise and profound judgment on a question of honor, or half-losing their minds in spirit realms that they area always, inextricably connected to.
Hatchet lifts an eyebrow at his Beta. "Now, Sol, don't go all mushy on me. Not like you did with that kid -- what was his name, Jeremiah? -- that kept proposing to you back in Utah."
[Armstrong] She hadn't quite caught the initial reaction. The eyes widening, the appraisal. all in all, she was a rather appealing Theurge. She did, however, catch that his face was red and she chose to look back at the food. Yes, food. Eyes over the pastries and then back at him.
He was getting cookies. Her stomach agreed and so did her brain.
"Tell me how they are, I haven't had them yet but everything else here is good."
there was a degree of confidence in the way White Eyes spoke. There could have been a right-or-wrong answer, too. She was a Shadow Lord. maybe this was a test. Maybe she was ferretting outhis personality traits by asking him what he was eating or what-have-you.
She pointed at one of the chocolate eclaires, and the distinctly less rage-filled individual nodded. "I think I'm getting one of those."
[Lukas] Footsteps on the stairs: Lukas, having woken from a nap, or having finished plotting/scheming/reading the art of war or whatever the hell it is Shadow Lords might do on a Tuesday evening, is coming downstairs. It's lively down there -- he can hear the voices through the double doors of the kitchen. He grabs an apple from a fruit basket and pushes through the doors, which are latchless, which swing wide, admitting both the Shadow Lord and the not inconsiderable shockwave of his rage.
He looks over the gathering. Polishes the apple against his shirt, which is black, longsleeved, fitted, knitted: in other words, the sort of thing only silver fangs and shadow lords could casually pull off. Then, crunching into the apple, he grabs a barstool onehanded, spins it around on one leg, and plants himself atop it -- not too far from Armstrong and Hector.
"Hey, Hector." Armstrong apparently doesn't require a greeting; she's pack, after all. That said, after the initial nod of hello, his attention is directly largely toward the Theurge. "Where is everyone?"
[Kemp Oates] "Just because ya share some genes, it don't make ya family. Don't ya get it? It don't matter if there's no bond in here or here."
He tapped his head and chest. Then he listened to her whispering and he expression closed off. Sitting up to stiffly reach for his coat as he rasped in reply.
"Ya don't know what goes on inside me Nessa anymore than I know you. But I can tell ya this much. Ten, eleven, twelve years tops, that kid is going to think both of us is dumb as shit. Gonna decide he knows it all and he's not gonna thank ya for coddling him or wasting your youth on him. He won't think to say thanks till he's oh, maybe thirty? If he lives that long. As for me, I have claimed him, I could of done the one night fuck and denied it all, believe you me, I can deny with the best of 'em and leave 'em thinking ya got it in the fuckin pool or off the toilet seat. But I didn't. Then again, maybe ya wish I had. So stop trying to get in my head. I got enough damned voices in there now and they're all screaming to kill the other."
He rose with a curt nod before he was heading for the door in that long legged lope of his and then was out the door into the night.
[Kemp Oates] ((Thanks for the play, I seriously gotta go finish hacking up a lung or two. Night!))
to Agnessa Malikoff, Andrea Locke, Armstrong, Hatchet, Lukas, Meat Locker, Soledad Gutierrez
[Agnessa Malikoff] (night!)
[Soledad Gutierrez] Hatchet got away with teasing her without a harsh response, and he was one of the few that could. The normal response would be violence, or her completely shutting down the conversation and any interaction she was having with that person at that time. However, Soledad's response was to purse her lips just a little, making a somewhat wide mouth appear even moreso, and furrow her heavy brows.
Her voice, as always, is low. "I haven't the slightest how you saw that as mushy. As I recollect, I snapped his wrist in three ways."
Utah. What a damn state. It seemed most stories that she didn't want to talk about, for one reason or another, fell back to that trap. She'd made note the last time they crossed the state boarder that she would avoid going back if at all possible.
[Meat Locker] Lukas' arrival saves the hulking Fianna from further dialog and potential embarrasment. Having hemmed and hawed for a few moments as he sought the appropriate response, he is instead flushed with relief as Lukas appropriates the conversation, letting him off the hook. Interesting that, how Rage can make you feel everything more intensely, can suffuse you not only with anger but bring all your emotions to a greater pitch.
Nodding affably, trying to look as if he was just wandering off because that's what people do when they're browsing baked goods, he takes a few steps away, leaving the Unbroken Circle dudes to their pow-wow, and gives the crowd a quick look, finding his Alpha and Beta, looking at them for a second as if orienting himself in a storm, and then returns his gaze heavily to the cookies.
[Agnessa Malikoff] She is silent, as he leaves, and hopefully the... sympathy? Pity? Shock? is hidden from the view of others as she watches him leave the bar.
Slowly, the woman stands, and goes over to the counter where the Armstrong is, the woman she'd met vaguely nights before. Every step of the way is a second in which to push emotions far away, and to become a woman less... vulnerable than a single mom to the child of a reallly mixed up lone wolf Wyrmfoe.
To the kid at the counter, she nods, and offers a simple linoleum smile. "Ahh hello. Is Andrea in tonight?"
[Hatchet] Two things happen rather close together that quite dismissively destroy Hatchet's ability to remember what he just said or listen to what Soledad's response is. The first is a pulse at the edges of his awareness from the direction of the kitchen, just coming through the doors. Hatchet does not look, and he does such a good job of not looking that only Soledad can tell that he is Not Looking at anything.
He does, however, blink, and forget that they were talking about Utah, or about the Kinfolk boy from a ridiculously large family who had chased Soledad around for the full five weeks they were present. Hatchet does not remind her that her snapping the poor kid's wrist led to Sarah having to heal said wrist, because Jeremiah and Salt Lake City and several other things just flew the fuck out of his head.
It isn't helped by the fact that Kemp, who is taller even than Hatchet, rises quickly and makes his exit as though he is seeking escape from the dark-haired woman in red and black he was sitting with. That's distracting, too. Hatchet does look, then, glancing over his shoulder as Kemp passes and goes out the door. He turns back around and looks at Soledad, licking his lips thoughtfully.
"I," he announces, quite gravely, "have no idea what we are talking about." That said, he leans forward, plants his elbow on the table, and puts his chin in his palm, smiling. "Let's take bets on the chances of Hector coming back with something biscuit-esque and not something chocolate-filled."
[Armstrong] "Sampson's running laps about the ship yards, Sam's probably out getting a feeling for the city, and off the top of my head I don't recall where the rest of them are. They'll more than likely all be back in before the end of the night."
It was a round about way of saying that they weren't there. She nodded a little, looking at Lukas for the time being and taking in the changes in texture, and then over to look at Nessa for a moment. And th elook lingered for a moment longer than she would have like. She was trying to make sense of something, there was a familiarity about her. Something about her smelled like home. She then looked back at Lukas, inhaling slowly.
"What's on the agenda?"
[Agnessa Malikoff] "Ah. Will you give this envelope to her when she is free? Da? Thank you. No, no order tonight."
A manila envelope, sealed and addressed to Andrea Locke is left with one fo the kinfolk employees at the counter, and then Nessa turns and leaves, to return home.
[Lukas] "Nothing," Lukas says, automatically, but he seems pleased, which likely means something is in fact on the agenda. He takes another bite of his apple, bites too deeply, spits a seed into his palm. Snags up a napkin from atop the bakery counter and puts it there, then wipes his hand off. "Just found something interesting today. Thought I'd rustle up some backup and go check it out."
[Soledad Gutierrez] Hatchet's eyes slid off in a way that Soledad recognized, primarily because it wasn't very dissimilar from the way she tended to look off into space herself. While he was Not Looking, she was Not Focusing. Or focusing on something completely different, if you put it that way. The Gauntlet was thinner to her than to others, she was sensitive to things going on across it that may have slipped by others. So, she would occasionally slide her focus from This World to the Other, without really noticing.
But worse things involving Soledad and the Gauntlet have happened. She's been known to fall through.
So Hatchet came back, eyes honing in on Kemp as he briskly made way out the door, and Sol was watching him patiently, waiting for him to regain focus. He admitted bluntly that he didn't know what they were talking about, and suggested a bet. Sol turned her gaze from her Alpha to their packmate, who she watched watching them before he returned his attention to the baked goods display. She thought about that for a moment, then quipped:
"Biscuits are for wassel or coffee. I would bet on something sweet being in his pata."
[Andrea Locke] ooc: sorry guys for not responding to PMs -- been afk for the last hour dealing with domestic issues. I'm back now.
to Armstrong, Hatchet, Lukas, Meat Locker, Sam Modine, Sampson Musembi, Soledad Gutierrez
[Soledad Gutierrez] (( It's cool. *Thumbs up* ))
to Andrea Locke, Armstrong, Hatchet, Lukas, Meat Locker, Sam Modine, Sampson Musembi
[Armstrong] "Sounds like it could be fun," she said this after a bit of thinking. He seemed pleased, and she couldn't help but grin a little. She stopped and thought for a little while longer, and then glanced towards the stairs. "I'll grab my coat."
[Sam Modine] The aforementioned Modi is in actuality finishing up rounds. Up ten blocks then ten east back twelve more to the lake and then back again toward the Brotherhood of Thieves. A feel he is getting for the surrounding area, making mental notes here and there about defensive positions, weak points and strong points along both the Caern's bawn and the area near the Unbroken Circle's temporary staging grounds. He's on the physical side this time, clad in black leather over black cotton. His jeans are a sturdy pair new-ish but already worn bone on blue at the knees. He doesn't stop at the front door and instead makes his way around the building's perimeter.
A minute later the back door is swinging open and a few hellos are exchanged with the kitchen staff are exchanged while Sam's boots are wiped clean on the mat inside the opening.
His packmates will see him coming through into the restaurant proper, speaking in a low smiling conversation with Rueben and leaving the brief exchange with a single bottled beer in hand. A dark bottle containing a darker house brew. "Hello."
He too grabs a stool one handed and slides it in next to the two Shadow Lords.
[Sampson Musembi] Sampson comes not so much bursting into the restaurant, but the door DOES swing open mighty fast. One of his skinny --er, wiry-arms shoots out to grab the door before it could bang unpleasantly, and then he shuts it with more care, vibrating a little with energy, all warmed up now.
His long legs eat up the distance between himself and his packmates. "Lukas! Mrena! Sam! It has been MINUTES since I have seen you or more! Did you hear! My wives!! Will come this Week! They are now in Boston! They are to drive here!" He gives them all a wiiiiide white toothed smile from one dumbo-ear to the other.
[Lukas] "Get mine too, will you?" -- since it was still in her room, and all. "The scarf and gloves too, please."
And then there was one. Then two, then three. Lukas does a mental tally -- half of their number -- and decides it'll be sufficient. "Hi, Sam." And, perfunctory curiosity at best: "I didn't know they could drive, Sampson." He finishes off his apple, tosses the core into an ashtray, and stands up. "Anyway, good timing. We're heading out. I found something interesting today. Get whatever gear you need, and we'll go have a look together. I'll explain on the way."
[Sam Modine] "This side or that?" Sam asks after the Beta. His question is perfunctory, getting the information necessary to know which equipment he can or cannot take.
[Armstrong] She looked at Sampson for a moment, eyes widen for a moment and he brings the good news. His wives are coming, they're in Boston. The time is drawing night. "I will never get to the bathroom first ever again," she said with a sigh.
And then, a quiet nod of acknowledgement, and she trotted upstairs to get everything together. And she had a few things to grab first.
[Armstrong] (brb, getting to Denny's!)
to Andrea Locke, Andrew, Hatchet, Lukas, Meat Locker, Sam Modine, Sampson Musembi, Sobhian Dobbins, Soledad Gutierrez
[Sampson Musembi] "They do not! They have! a friend to drive them! OR! They would run over half the population on the roads! Do NOT let my wives drive or people will DIE!" He shakes his head vigorously for emphasis.
And he, having not sat down, leaves with the rest of them, taking point if Lukas indicates it should be so.
[Hatchet] The number of times in a given week that Soledad will notice Hatchet distinctly refusing to look at something are rather minimal, but it is his modus operandi when something catches his attention that he does not want to give his attention to. That happens surprisingly often, considering that most of the time Hatchet is quite attentive to his surroundings and to people around him. There are times, however, when for one reason or another his internal self gives a raucous and decisive Nope! and locks his neck into place and stares holes into whatever's in front of him to keep his gaze from wandering where one might think it actually wants to be.
But now he's got the discussion of Hector's meal to keep him busy. Or, at the very least, distracted. "I'm hungry," he declares, smacking his flat palm on the table and pushing himself to his feet. "I'll be back. Perhaps with biscuits. And also beer."
Hatchet rises, takes the back of his chair in hand, and pushes it in. Of course. He walks through the tables over to the counter where Hector is still making up his mind. This is the first time he's been in short sleeves outside of the bedroom since coming to Chicago, and the first time what he's got on over his jeans is not some bulky sweater or hoodie. The man's dress has been deceptive, has encouraged him to slouch and has made it impossible to guess whether he is thick and heavy-set or a wiry bastard. He is neither.
The Philodox is athletic, lean but hardly as thin as his eating habits might suggest. If one were to try, they could trace the outline of the muscles in his forearms underneath the raking scars that start at his elbows and taper off at his wrists. Five lines, the deepest and widest in the center. It is not hard to imagine a pair of claws grabbing his elbows and yanking down, flaying flesh and muscle off of his bones, releasing him just before his hands got torn off.
His shoulders are swimmer-broad, his torso a slight V-shape. He does not look like a shambling hobo, in a plain t-shirt that Belinda insists on buying fitted rather than baggy. He looks strong. He is strong.
Hatchet looks at the members of the Unbroken Circle as he approaches, rather than his own packmate. He passes Lukas on his way into the kitchen, and the only noise he makes is a deep breath taken in through his nostrils.
[Lukas] Lukas makes a sound, quiet, amused. "Yeah, that's what I thought." And, to Sam, "This side first, I think. Won't hurt to be prepared though. I'll meet you guys out back."
(ok, we're trooping over to Cabrini-Green. scene is open, oocly at least!)
[Sampson Musembi] He feels it, inhales deeply of the scent of his Talonbrathas, lets his own scent appear instead of the running water smell of Skinny Legs. Its a reaching out, of sorts, of bonding. As they come together, the Flock fills them, makes them more than they were. Hard to hold still, makes him quiver with the desire to move between them, make contact, move on, return.
Fidgeting, he looks at Lukas for instructions.
[Armstrong] She was there, and waiting for something. She was always waiting for something, but for now she was content to keep her mouth shut and look around. She surveyed her packmates, making sure all was well. There was strength in numbers; Mrena knew this. The Talons of Horus knew this as well, and taught the pack well. Reward for good behavior, the kind of behavior that would help them survive. White Eyes, like her packmate, awaited instructions.
[Lukas] It's not a long walk from the Caern, but long enough for Lukas to explain the situation:
"There's an abandoned lot on 17th and Carlson. That's nothing unusual; there are abandoned lots all over this city. But the thing about this one is, it's big. It's way too big for anyone to just leave it there totally undeveloped, even in a shithole like Cabrini-Green. And beside that, every time I pass by I smell the same set of scents. Fresh every time. Sometimes one's a little newer than another; sometimes there's an extra scent or two. But it's just an abandoned lot, a big one, nothing but adult video stores and liquor stores for a quarter-mile around. I don't know anything for sure -- I don't know for sure that there's anything to be found there -- but it niggles at me.
"It doesn't make sense that such a large piece of land is just being left alone. It doesn't make sense that the same handful of scents keep showing up there. And that's not even mentioning the scents themselves -- rank, odious, rotten. I don't mean literally rotten. I mean ... they smell wrong to me.
"Well. You'll see soon enough; we're almost there."
The low, squat buildings lining Carlson Ave. drop off abruptly. Across the street is a city block -- an entire city block -- standing totally abandoned. Nothing but cracked concrete, hardpacked dirt, a few hard-scrabble weeds clinging to existence. And in the middle of it all, a little hut. Sort of like a toolshed, as disused and decrepit as the rest of the lot.
Lukas is right: the place smells wrong. What's more, it feels wrong. They don't need their totemic gift of wyrm-smelling to detect it, though if any of them tried, every last dial on their internal switchboard would light up in response.
"Sam takes point," Lukas says as they cross the street and leave the sidewalk, crunch into the weeds and frozen ground of the abandoned lot. "I'll bring up the rear. Sampson's on the left flank, Armstrong's on the right. Stay close." He nods up at the hut: "Let's start there."
[Ewan Selwyn] (( Don'twait on me. Just kinda watchin' for now))
to Lukas, Sam Modine, Sampson Musembi
[Sam Modine] The four of them make an interesting split comparison Sampson is not a particularly big man, and Mrena is downright petite. The other two are nearly the same size, a handfull of inches over six feet though Lukas is a bit more full and imposing where Sam is thinner with coiled spirals of muscle on every side. His weapon remains in the blanket wrapping hanging in his left hand. He takes up the front position of the group when he's asked.
His eyes go narrow. His head flicks back and forth. Both like a hunting wolf and a bird of prey at once. "Keep pace." He remarks back, not looking to the rest of them, he knows they hear. Feet crunch through snow and slush as they approach the lot. A more comes down in sheets. A crow, then another call from above a foreboding note, circling in the falling white.
[Sampson Musembi] Sampson walks in tandem with his pack, to the left, contemplates Blurring but it wasnt so ordered, not yet at least. So far, hes; visible and uuh lanky as hell.
(brb)
[Armstrong] It felt wrong here, and they didn't have to really see it in any different light to know how wrong this area was. Armstrong inhaled it, let it stick to her senses before shaking her head to try and get it off. There was no need to use any special ability to feel this; the area was just plain nasty. The toolshed seemed a little out of place, though it was at the center of the problem. She took the right side of things; she was lighter than her packmates, she made less sound on the snow. Her movements were controlled. The crow called above, she continued onward.
[Lukas] (okay, for the record, this is how i'ma run this:
- Try to keep posts shortish (5ish min would be nice :P)
- I'm not gonna wait for full post rotations -- I'll post when my post is ready.
- When combat begins, there will be one big post at the start to set the stage, then a ton of dice rolls, and then one big post at the end to sum it all up. i.e.: i am not gonna do little sum up posts every round! IC posts will be made if and only if necessary.
Hopefully we can get this whole thing done in 2 hrs-ish *optimist*)
[Lukas] The toolshed looms up ahead of them: cracked, peeling paint that might've once been white, but is now colorless; a roof that's collapsing at one end; wooden slats for walls, one of them fallen in to reveal a slice of darkness. A powerful reek leaks out of this hole.
There are no windows, and when they circle around it, they find only one door. The whole thing is perhaps 12 feet by 18 feet. Not huge, but large. If they touch it, the wood -- though dry and splintering, the paint peeling off -- has an unpleasantly tacky feel to it.
[Sam Modine] Feels wrong. Smells wrong. looks wrong.
Five alarm bad. He leads them through the center of the lot. Silently assessing their surroundings. They make it to the shed, and Sam begins to examine it near the door as the others circle. He sniffs the airs, reaches out to touch it. Then he presses his head onto the outer wall, turning lips up at the feeling against his ear in the cold. "We're heading in." He calls to the packmates about him.
"I'll breach, Lukas get in behind me and clear left." As for instructions to the other two he asks only, "Wait ten seconds, then follow us. Stay close, and keep an eye on each other." His role is that of a tactician, a battle leader, this is where, even in clipped sentences, he shines.
[Sampson Musembi] Sampson sniffs cautiously, nearly rotates those big ole ears of his but in this form, all he can manage is a bit of a wiggle.
The urge to shift is intense; he, like all fo the pack most probably, can feel the hair on his arms, on his neck all standing up and nearly growling at wahtever rotting evil has come to this odd shack.
Sam has point; but if Sampson was the enemy, he'd be watchign this point, and take whomever it was at the door, when their back was turned. Therefore, his own? Is ready and facing out.
[Lukas] They each have their roles. Though of the same room, Lukas is the more strategy-minded, the more likely to plan a war on the weeks-to-months timescale, whereas Sam clearly shines in the role of the battlefield commander. Lukas does not hesitate at all to follow his packmate's commands, hovering at his elbow, coiled, ready for action.
The street is very calm. Cabrini Green is not a safe area. No one comes out after dark.
[Armstrong] They're headed in, and then she seems to have the presence of mind to think that, if it feels this bad on the realmside, going on the other side of the gauntlet might not be the best of ideas. She nods a little to herself and headed in, ten seconds later as asked, then followed in.
[Sam Modine] A blanket slides away from Sam's weapon, piling on the ground near the door. The sword is brought to his chest and he does the breaching. The wooden door is thrown open and he rushes through, heading to his right and allowing Lukas the space to step in on the other side.
The weapon moves in front of him, an auspicious warning to anything at it's sharp end.
[Lukas] When Sam throws the door back, it doesn't so much fly open as it flies off hinges long since rusted into oblivion. The flimsy wooden door flies clear across the room, smacks into the bare concrete floor inside, cracks right down the middle. Both halves skid noisily to a stop. The doorknob spins to a wobbly stop a few seconds later, and then --
-- there's only silence. If they were expecting to be attacked by bats out of hell, they're disappointed. As far as they can tell, there's nothing, no reaction, no movement, no response.
Lukas lets out a slow breath, a little behind, a little to the side: guarding Sam's weaker side as their packmates guard their backs. It's a cold, cold night, but curiously, it's warmer in here -- Lukas' breath, for example, does not steam. But surely these cracked, leaky walls can't hold out the chill.
As their eyes adjust, they see that there's a trapdoor in the ground. Metal. Significantly sturdier than the flimsy door that had guarded the hut.
[Sampson Musembi] Nothing screams in agony at Sam and Lukas's entrance, so that's fine. It will scream later, most definitely.
... Four.. Three.. Two.. One. Ready or not...
Sampson slips in, same time as Armstrong, silent and sure in his stride, watching her back as they step through the door. Darkness surrounding them woudl normally feel most welcome, like the inside of a hut at night, but here-- its an eerie sensation.
[Armstrong] She looked at the door once her eyes had adjusted, tracing the outside of it with her eyes. She looked at it carefully to try and determine if it had been opened recently, or if the abdandoned lot really was as abandoned as it seemed.
[Lukas] (hm, pop me some percep-alert rolls when you get a chance! diff 8. here's lukas'.)
[Armstrong]
[Sam Modine] The Modi strafes through the room quickly. Eyes going to each corner, each windowless nook in the room. He notes the trapdoor but leaves it for the immediate moment as he circles inside. His eyes adjust in the room enough that the greyish vapor-breath emanating with each outward respiration is visible before his eyes from the moonlight coming through the broken portal where they entered.
"Clear." He says. And that's all for the moment.
He does though keep looking, not ready to go down yet.
[Sampson Musembi] (Percept+alert 3+3 + 1 detection from minor rite)
[Sampson Musembi] (Fuck. Ok make tat a target 8. *LOL*)
to Lukas
[Lukas] (LAWL FAIL.)
It is clear to everyone that the trapdoor is newer than its shambling surroundings. There's no rust on the metal. There are no scratches and dents. It looks sturdy, the sort of thing you could probably bolt and hide from a small tornado under. Other than that.... they can say very little about what may or may not confront them on the other side.
[Armstrong] She looked at the trap door a little longer and could not tell if this was a good thing or a bad thing. It was just a trap door. It didn't have any dents or dings and was much newer than the shed it was housed in. But she could not tell what caused the place to feel so horribly wrong. She looked at her pack gesturing at the door; she spoke quietly.
"That door looks like it could lock easily, and it could take a beating. If we're going down, we need to keep our exit unblocked."
[Sampson Musembi] Sampson walks over to the trapdoor and nods. "we rip off the lock on our way down?" His voice is pitched low jsut in case. Of course, ripping of the lock would mean shifting UP now. He exrends a hand in question to Lukas-- to open it for them, in cas eits locked?
[Sam Modine] The small room is circled once fully, looked over up and dwon, between sideways glances at his packmates. Once that's done the Fenrir squats over the trapdoor, examining it in the loow light, running his hands over it's surface.
"Might not be a problem." His eyes are narrow, focused. Long fingers trace over metal surface, nothing it's smoothness, it's density. He's looking for the details he might've missed during the cursory inspection, looking harder to make sure he's missing nothing. "Haven't decided yet."
(i'm gonna try again at +1 diff cause i'm an ass.))
[Lukas] There is palpable warmth emanating from the trapdoor. What's more, there's a distant, low rumbling coming from beneath it, slow, droning, hypnotic.
Someone's definitely home.
"I agree," Lukas says, re: Sampson. "We destroy the lock on the way down, keep a clear retreat if we need it." Sam's tribemates might scoff at the very thought of retreat, preferring death to dishonor. Lukas, however, sees no dishonor in having the good sense to regroup and come back with friends, if need be.
[Sam Modine] "Lets see what's down here before we decide to run." Sam's voice is distant, his palm is pressed flat on the door's surface now. His expression is furrowed and he looks to Lukas, Sampson, then Armstrong in return. "Someone's home." The sword draped in a t-square over his shoulders and crooked in his wrist is brought back into his hand as he stands back to his full height. It's tip hanging deadly an inch from the ground like a long extension of the young man's arm.
"Break the lock if we can. Leave the door, if we do need to bring the fight back this way we might need to shut it behind us." He looks to Lukas for confirmation before going quiet again.
[Sampson Musembi] He nods, and waits for Lukas to rip the fuck outta the lock....
[Lukas] "Let's do it, then. Sam first, as soon as I get this open. Take Talons' gift. I'll drop in next. Then Sampson, then Armstrong. Close the door behind you. Ready?" He doesn't wait for verbal confirmation, only glances around at their faces.
Then he shifts. The serious young man, polite almost to a fault, is there one second; gone the next. In his place is a monstrosity, a huge hulking beast black as night, with eyes like chips of ice. He doesn't growl, doesn't snarl or bark, but they can hear him breathing: the subtly different timbre of air moving through enormous lungs, thick trachea. He bends to his task, looping three fingers through the trapdoor's handle. Three, because that's all that'll fit. The handle looks absurdly small in his enormous handpaw, like a child's toy. He strains silently, his hackles standing up, muscles running tense beneath his fur -- at first a slow steady pull, and then, when that fails to produce results, a series of short, sharp jerks.
It's not the door that gives way first. It's the concrete around the frame: cracking first, and then abruptly tearing apart into chunks the size of a baby's first. The entire trapdoor comes up out of the floor, trailing steel foundation cables, spilling concrete.
Revealed: a long, deep, dark tunnel, wide enough to accommodate a crinos, but only just. Given the smooth, clean texture of the trapdoor, they might've expected something rather like the entry hatch of a submarine, all steel and bolts. Instead, they're faced with a strangely organic pit: unpleasantly moist earth that seems to have a strange, fleshy spring to it. No ladder, no apparent handholds. A heavy humid heat billows out of the hole. They have only an instant to take this in. Lukas tosses the trapdoor aside, within reach for White-Eyes to drag it over the hole on her way down, and motions Sam in.
[Sam Modine] Sam nods and hops down. There isn't time to stop him, or even to say anything before he's gone. The motion is agile, quick and precise. His arms above his head like a bird taking flight, the sword held with the blade along the back of his arm. His feet point straight down, giving his posture a look akin to an oversized lawn dart. He hits the bottom with no stumble. His feet sure.
He's in a crouch at the bottom, still in his breed form. One leg in front of the other, one hand out the one with the sword cocked behind him, the weapon stil tucked back against his arm, threatening to slash at anything interloping in front of him. He moves forward out of the way of whoever comes next, letting the Bear's strength flow out through his body.
[Spending 1 WP to activate resist pain]
[Lukas] (percep+alert roll, cody!)
[Lukas]
[Sam Modine]
[Lukas] (unknown target ambush-clinches sam. this is a "free" action, meaning it cannot be defended against cuz you've been ambushed. next turn, everyone will roll init and act normally.)
The young Modi plunges into the tunnel fearlessly, dropping ten or fifteen feet to a surprisingly soft landing. The earth down here is wetter still, and denser, and springier. And hotter. Sam has only a second to note this; in the next something leaps onto him from behind, screeching.
The words are human -- barely -- and deafening. "INTRUDERINTRUDERINTRUDERINTRUDER HEREHERE COMECOMECOME FIGHT!"
[Lukas] (clinch damage)
[Sampson Musembi] UGH! And Katherine thinks Sampson's shoes stink! At least his trainers are honest footy sweat! The ragabash's nose wrinkles, and he shifts as well to his uber-leggy Hispo (Dire Stilted Jackal-wolf!), blurs just after, and waits for his turn to go in, after Lukas.
It's the awareness taht always gets him, this connection with his pack. Sometimes, its almost like they KNOW what the battle-leader will order. They are ready before Lukas finishes speaking.
(Blur!)
And.. down!!
[Sampson Musembi] (uhh and a rage to keep acting!!)
to Armstrong, Lukas, Sam Modine
[Sam Modine] soak!
[Armstrong] the smallest Garou there shifted to Crinos (which made her, for the time being, not the smallest person in the pack) She went last, pulling the trapdoor behind her as she descended. She was black. Absolutely black, and somewhat monochromatic. Her eyes were lighter in Crinos than in her breed form; they were damned near white. The name made sense.
[Lukas] (*SIGH* getting AIM. hold tight.)
[Sam Modine] The heat isn't noticed as discomfort the way it registers for other people. This is the benefit of his gift.
And then he is ambushed, from behind.
There is no pain, but the thing does have him. And now the battle begins. None of them are looking to his face, but if they were, they'd see a wide wolf's smile spreading across his face. All dagger teeth and excitment. Lusting for the new battle.
This is what you've worked for, trained for, this is what you were born to do.
[Sam Modine] ((ok, then i'm gonna run to the store while you get that, 10 minutes and i'm back))
[Sam Modine] "Lets see what's down here before we decide to run." Sam's voice is distant, his palm is pressed flat on the door's surface now. His expression is furrowed and he looks to Lukas, Sampson, then Armstrong in return. "Someone's home." The sword draped in a t-square over his shoulders and crooked in his wrist is brought back into his hand as he stands back to his full height. It's tip hanging deadly an inch from the ground like a long extension of the young man's arm.
"Break the lock if we can. Leave the door, if we do need to bring the fight back this way we might need to shut it behind us." He looks to Lukas for confirmation before going quiet again.
[Sampson Musembi] He nods, and waits for Lukas to rip the fuck outta the lock....
[Lukas] "Let's do it, then. Sam first, as soon as I get this open. Take Talons' gift. I'll drop in next. Then Sampson, then Armstrong. Close the door behind you. Ready?" He doesn't wait for verbal confirmation, only glances around at their faces.
Then he shifts. The serious young man, polite almost to a fault, is there one second; gone the next. In his place is a monstrosity, a huge hulking beast black as night, with eyes like chips of ice. He doesn't growl, doesn't snarl or bark, but they can hear him breathing: the subtly different timbre of air moving through enormous lungs, thick trachea. He bends to his task, looping three fingers through the trapdoor's handle. Three, because that's all that'll fit. The handle looks absurdly small in his enormous handpaw, like a child's toy. He strains silently, his hackles standing up, muscles running tense beneath his fur -- at first a slow steady pull, and then, when that fails to produce results, a series of short, sharp jerks.
It's not the door that gives way first. It's the concrete around the frame: cracking first, and then abruptly tearing apart into chunks the size of a baby's first. The entire trapdoor comes up out of the floor, trailing steel foundation cables, spilling concrete.
Revealed: a long, deep, dark tunnel, wide enough to accommodate a crinos, but only just. Given the smooth, clean texture of the trapdoor, they might've expected something rather like the entry hatch of a submarine, all steel and bolts. Instead, they're faced with a strangely organic pit: unpleasantly moist earth that seems to have a strange, fleshy spring to it. No ladder, no apparent handholds. A heavy humid heat billows out of the hole. They have only an instant to take this in. Lukas tosses the trapdoor aside, within reach for White-Eyes to drag it over the hole on her way down, and motions Sam in.
[Sam Modine] Sam nods and hops down. There isn't time to stop him, or even to say anything before he's gone. The motion is agile, quick and precise. His arms above his head like a bird taking flight, the sword held with the blade along the back of his arm. His feet point straight down, giving his posture a look akin to an oversized lawn dart. He hits the bottom with no stumble. His feet sure.
He's in a crouch at the bottom, still in his breed form. One leg in front of the other, one hand out the one with the sword cocked behind him, the weapon stil tucked back against his arm, threatening to slash at anything interloping in front of him. He moves forward out of the way of whoever comes next, letting the Bear's strength flow out through his body.
[Spending 1 WP to activate resist pain]
[Lukas] (percep+alert roll, cody!)
[Lukas]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 5, 5, 7, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 7)
[Sam Modine]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 4, 8, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Lukas] (unknown target ambush-clinches sam. this is a "free" action, meaning it cannot be defended against cuz you've been ambushed. next turn, everyone will roll init and act normally.)
The young Modi plunges into the tunnel fearlessly, dropping ten or fifteen feet to a surprisingly soft landing. The earth down here is wetter still, and denser, and springier. And hotter. Sam has only a second to note this; in the next something leaps onto him from behind, screeching.
The words are human -- barely -- and deafening. "INTRUDERINTRUDERINTRUDERINTRUDER HEREHERE COMECOMECOME FIGHT!"
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Lukas] (clinch damage)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 4, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Sampson Musembi] UGH! And Katherine thinks Sampson's shoes stink! At least his trainers are honest footy sweat! The ragabash's nose wrinkles, and he shifts as well to his uber-leggy Hispo (Dire Stilted Jackal-wolf!), blurs just after, and waits for his turn to go in, after Lukas.
It's the awareness taht always gets him, this connection with his pack. Sometimes, its almost like they KNOW what the battle-leader will order. They are ready before Lukas finishes speaking.
(Blur!)
And.. down!!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 6, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 3, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Armstrong] the smallest Garou there shifted to Crinos (which made her, for the time being, not the smallest person in the pack) She went last, pulling the trapdoor behind her as she descended. She was black. Absolutely black, and somewhat monochromatic. Her eyes were lighter in Crinos than in her breed form; they were damned near white. The name made sense.
[Lukas] (*SIGH* getting AIM. hold tight.)
[Sam Modine] The heat isn't noticed as discomfort the way it registers for other people. This is the benefit of his gift.
And then he is ambushed, from behind.
There is no pain, but the thing does have him. And now the battle begins. None of them are looking to his face, but if they were, they'd see a wide wolf's smile spreading across his face. All dagger teeth and excitment. Lusting for the new battle.
This is what you've worked for, trained for, this is what you were born to do.
[Sam Modine] ((ok, then i'm gonna run to the store while you get that, 10 minutes and i'm back))
[Lukas] (sorry guys, i'll post in just a sec *LOL*)
[Sam Modine] ((back))
[Lukas] (OK, my AIM chats are totally hosed! we'll be communicating in here *LOL* onward!)
At the sound of the commotion below, Lukas instantly follows his packmate down the tunnel. He hits the strangely soft ground in a roll, moving aside just in time for Sampson and then Armstrong to join him. Then there's four of them, half of the Circle, and this is what they see:
They are in a -- tunnel, a corridor, which ends in a dead end five feet away in one direction. In the other, it stretches on, taking a turn about twenty feet away, beyond which they can see nothing. It is oppressively hot and humid in here.
Sam is wrestling with a dark shape. It seems to be all rags and sinew, all of it colorless, dust-colored, dust-dirty. It is gibbering. They can see a huge mouth full of rotten teeth. They can see matted hair, flesh so gnarled and toughened it looks like bark. This is the Raggedy Man.
It has raised a hue and cry, and in response, even as the pack leaps down to join their modi, reinforcements are coming for the other side as well. First around the corner is a disconcertingly lovely thing, all huge liquid eyes and long limbs and dusky skin. It is totally naked, and they can see no evidence of its gender one way or another. It wears a pair of knives in sheaths at its hips, like an old-west gunslinger wears guns, and when it pulls the knives it is astonishingly fast, breathtakingly graceful. This is the Bladedancer.
Right behind it lumbers an giant of a man, if such a thing could be called a man. It is quite literally a mountain of fat, eight feet tall or more, grotesque, its face lost in squidges of fat. Mean, beady eyes stare out at its foes. It growls deep in its armor of flesh, flexing its christmas-ham hands. He shoulders his way forward to stand beside the Bladedancer. This is the Fat Man.
Two more appear behind him. They are twins in appearance, unremarkable, a pair of boys perhaps 16 or 17 years old, neither beautiful nor hideous, freckled, fairheaded, jeans and t-shirts. The only thing unusual about them is that one's eyes are lightlessly black -- not merely the pupil and the iris, but the whites of the eyes as well, black as an insect's. The other's eyes are a clear, incandescent hue, orange-bright, like flame. These are the Twins, Dark and Bright.
They assemble, the four; they look upon their friend the Raggedy Man without great concern, and do not yet act. They are waiting, and in another moment, the pack sees what it is they wait for.
A sixth joins the group, a giant of a man, barechested, his shoulders and chest smeared with what may very well be blood. He is not so tall nor so wide as the Fat Man, but his body bulges with muscle, his skin stretched so taut it seems fit to burst. They cannot see his face. It is hidden behind a welder's mask bolted into the bone of his temples. They can hear him breathing though, heavy and steady as a locomotive, a growl on every exhale. He pushes his way forward the way a bulldozer pushes through chaff. The Twins step aside for him. The Bladedancer touches him on the arm as he passes, familiarly, the way a packmate will nose the alpha. The Fat Man lumbers awkwardly to the side, and allows him to take his place at the head of the little troupe.
This is the Strong Man. His mask turns slowly from one side to the other. He observes them, the four Garou. A low sound begins to rise out of him, hollow, shuddering: a groan? an epileptic fit? -- then the recognize it:
He's laughing at them.
A second later, the coven of monstrosities charge as one.
(ok, commence dicing! inits please! we'll use the same inits for the entire combat.)
[Sampson Musembi] (Init!+7)
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3 (Failure at target 6)
[Lukas] (raggedy +8)
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1 (Botch x 1 at target 6)
[Lukas] (just for the record i reserve the right to adjust stats up or down as necessary :P
bladedancer +12)
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Lukas] (fat man +2)
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] 7
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1 (Botch x 1 at target 6)
[Lukas] (bright twin +7)
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5 (Failure at target 6)
[Lukas] (dark twin +7)
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4 (Failure at target 6)
[Lukas] (strong man +5)
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4 (Failure at target 6)
[Sampson Musembi] (we arent' moving on Lukas's init as a pack?)
to Armstrong, Lukas, Sam Modine
[Lukas] Lukas +7
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2 (Failure at target 6)
[Lukas] (if you guys wanna move on lukas' init that's fine with me.
to Armstrong, Sam Modine, Sampson Musembi
[Sam Modine] ((it's one better than what I just rolled so i'll take it, *L*))
to Armstrong, Lukas, Sampson Musembi
[Sampson Musembi] (Oh. Well. I htought he had the big huge bonus. Mine is a littel faster than lukas, have a 10 total but will go with pack if you guys want.)
to Armstrong, Lukas, Sam Modine
[Sampson Musembi] (And if we can knock the light and dark twin together, maybe they will cancel each other out! *LOL*)
to Armstrong, Lukas, Sam Modine
[Lukas] (Init order:
bladedancer 22
bright twin 12
pack 11
dark twin 11
fat man 10
raggedy 9
strong man 9
declarations go in reverse. so, declaring for the NPCs slower than the pack:
raggedy will continue to clinch Sam
strong man attacks sam
fat man does his best to block the rest of the pack from reaching the twins in the back
dark twin is concentrating.
lukas: attacks raggedy.)
[Sampson Musembi] (Any tactic orders?)
to Armstrong, Lukas, Sam Modine
[Sam Modine] Sam will activate Inspiration
Spending 1 Gnosis
Splitting for a second action to parry strong Man's attack w/his weapon
[Lukas] (up to Sam.)
to Armstrong, Sam Modine, Sampson Musembi
[Sampson Musembi] (Sampson attacks fat man (bite), using blur to get to his flank. Hopefully he will turn and Armstrong cna take the othe rflank.)
[Lukas] (you have to break raggedy man's clinch first -- wanna split 3 ways, activate your gift, break clinch, then parry?)
to Sam Modine
[Sam Modine] That works, i've got dex to burn
to Lukas
[Lukas] (edit -- Sam is going to activate inspiration, break clinch, then parry, a three-way action split.)
[Armstrong] Armstrong's taking the other flank, should she get the opportunity to do so
[Lukas] (bright twin is ... concentrating.
bladedancer is pickin' off the weak and attacking armstrong.
rolling!
bladedancer attacks, 12d10.)
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 6, 6, 8, 8, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 8 at target 6)
[Sampson Musembi] ((BRICKS! DUCK!))
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 5, 5, 6, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 4)
[Sampson Musembi] (Shit sorry ignore rolls)
[Lukas] (damage, str 3+7suxx)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[Armstrong] (changing action to a dodge. Dex+dodge, diff 6)
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 4, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6) [WP]
[Lukas] (rerolling damage, str3+7-3)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Lukas] (bright twin is concentrating. pack's turn. lukas spends 1 rage to instashift to hispo. here's a bite on raggedy--)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 5, 5, 6, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Lukas] (sorry, that was diff 5. so, 5 suxx, not 3. damage -- )
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 4, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Lukas] (raggedy soaks --)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 5, 8 (Failure at target 6)
[Lukas] (raggedy rolling to maintain clinch on sam)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 5, 5, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] Str + Bral - 2 = 5 dice to break clinch
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 5, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Sampson Musembi] BITE! but on Bladedancer, sicn ethe bitch is attacking Mrena. Flank.
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 9 (Success x 2 at target 5)
[Lukas] (flanking is -1 diff, changing action is +1, so you're left with 5 still. roll damage with str+2+1 from succ.)
[Sampson Musembi] (Damage)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 4, 5, 6, 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Lukas] (bladedancer soaks)
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Lukas] (dark twin is concentrating...
fat man is blocking the path to the twins...
raggedy, having lost his clinch on sam, attacks lukas.)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 6, 6, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Lukas] (damage!)
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 4, 6, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Lukas] (lukas soaks)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 6, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Lukas] (strong man attacks sam)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] Dex + Melee + Totem bonus 3 - 3 to parry with sword.
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 6, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6) Re-rolls: 2
[Lukas] (slick parry! on to the next round. declaring for the slower NPCs:
strong man pulls two blades out of the flesh of his back and attacks sam!
raggedy continues to attack lukas
fat man lumbers forward and puts himself in the way of anyone attacking the bladedancer
bladedancer retreats behind fat man (declaring early for it)
dark twin touches bladedancer.
lukas' declaration: continues to attack raggedy man, and calls for his packmates to assist in taking raggedy down first.)
[Sam Modine] 1 Rage to insta-shift (Crinos)
1 Rage to attack strong man back
1 Rage for a parry action
Regular action to swing around and targeted shot to immobilize raggedy man (called shot to the achilles tendon)
[Lukas] (oh ffs, that's right, rage. lukas' declaration is actually:
3 rage - 4 attacks targeting raggedy first, then bladedancer after raggedy is dead (or fat man if fails to hit bladedancer) )
[Sampson Musembi] (sampson declare! attack! Raggedy! Flanking! Bite!CHOMP! IF he's dead then bite fat man;s ass instead! Well, hip. flanking.)
[Armstrong] Whatever sampson's attacking, she's flanking and clawing.
Raggedy, if raggedy's dead, then Fat man
[Lukas] (bladedancer has already declared: is moving behind fat man for cover
bright twin unleashes blast wave! everyone must roll soak against this damage (aggravated) -- )
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 8, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] ooooh scary.
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 4, 7, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Sampson Musembi] (Soak!)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Lukas] (grr, that wasn't very impressive. lukas rolls soak.)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 6, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Armstrong] (Sta 2+3 (crinos) =5)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 8 (Failure at target 6)
[Lukas] raggedy soaking against called shot --
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 7, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] called shot first,
Dex + Melee + Totem (3) + 1 for Crinos
Specialty for melee
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 2, 3, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 8 at target 8) Re-rolls: 1
[Sam Modine] Damage Str + 2 + 7 succ + 4 for crinos
Dice Rolled:[ 16 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[Lukas] (raggedy is down for the count. lukas turns on bladedancer, but fat man is now in the way. lukas chooses to continue targeting bladedancer at +2 difficulty, with damage going to fat man instead of bladedancer if he scores less than 3 suxx -- )
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 5, 6, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 7)
[Lukas] (damage (to fat man) -- )
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 3, 3, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Lukas] fat man soaks.
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 4, 4, 8, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Sampson Musembi] (Attaaack! CHOMPFLANK! raggedy!)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 7, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 5)
[Sampson Musembi] (wait a sec. Raggedy is down?)
[Lukas] (down but not dead. incapped. do you wanna coup de grace him?)
[Sampson Musembi] (no if hes incap then lets go to fatman!)
[Lukas] (okay, fat man is protecting the twins and bladedancer. if you target any of the protected ones, it's +2 diff, and if you score less than 3 suxx you hit fat man instead. or you can just attack fat man directly.)
[Sampson Musembi] (Whoops tat;s flanking, so add a sucess to that. 6 successes. AND for damage! 8+5
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 5)
[Lukas] fat man soaks.
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 6, 8, 8, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[Armstrong] (dex+brawl - 1 (ouchies) = 4, diff 6 - 1 (flanking)=5)
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 5) [WP]
[Armstrong] (str2+4 (crinos) + 3=9 dice for damage)
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 5, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Lukas] fat man soaks.
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 4, 6, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[Lukas] (dark twin touches bladedancer -- healing for 5d10, diff 6.)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 8 (Failure at target 6)
[Lukas] (fat man is just moving around to keep the twins and bladedancer well shielded.)
[Lukas] (raggedy is incap. strong man attacks sam.)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Lukas] (parry at diff 7, b/c strong man has two blades now.)
[Sam Modine] parrying!
Dex+Melee+totem (3)+crinos = 12
specialty in melee
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 5, 5, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 7, 8, 10, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 9 at target 6) Re-rolls: 4
[Lukas] (diff 7 gives 6 suxx -- parried. roll rage actions -- cody first)
[Sam Modine] Attacking strong man, same pool as the last 12 dice w/specialty and it's actually a diff 6 this time.
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 5, 6, 6, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Lukas] strong man soaking
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] str + crinos + 2 +1 success extra for damage
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 5, 8, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Lukas] (lukas -- 3 rage bites, targeting them all at dark twin for +3 diff (+2 for fat man, +1 for action change). HAIL KAHSEENO.)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 8)
[Lukas] (damage to dark twin)
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 8 at target 6)
[Lukas] (dark twin soaks)
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Lukas] (second rage bite)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 5, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Lukas] (damage to fat man)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Lukas] (fat man soaks)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 3, 4, 4, 4, 6, 7, 9 (Failure at target 6)
[Lukas] (last rage bite. HAIL!)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 6, 6, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Lukas] (damage to fat man)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 3, 3, 3, 5, 6, 6, 7 (Failure at target 6)
[Lukas] (fat man soaking)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 5, 5, 5, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Lukas] (quick sumup:
raggedy is KOed
bladedancer looks injured, but not critical
fat man's just barely getting scratched
bright twin untouched
dark twin is very badly injured
strong man isn't even breaking a sweat yet, though he's pissed.
NEXT ROUND! declaring for slow NPCs:
strong man draws on his powers to perform 2 attacks at the price of 1 health. he hacks at Sam with both attacks.
fat man throws lukas back.
dark twin is concentrating...)
[Lukas] (lukas: 2 rage. splitting first action to dodge the throw. continues doing his best to attack the dark twin if possible. if thrown back, he spends one action moving and continues to attack.)
[Sam Modine] spending all 3 rage sam has left.
Regular action: Falling touch (strong Man)
1st Rage action: Attack (strong Man)
2nd rage action: Attack (Strong Man)
3rd Rage Action: Move to attack Fat Man
[Sampson Musembi] Sampson: yips at Armstrong so she will know what to do unless Sam directs it first. Lets Armstrong go first with flanking fur gnarl beginning!
He will do the second part, a hispo flanking bite on the same spot!
[Armstrong] Standard: Fur Gnarlin' the Fat Man (the first part)
rage action: Fatal Flaw: What makes the fat man tick? (yay gifts!)
[Sampson Musembi] (a heart. Pull it out!)
[Lukas] (bright twin: nukes again.
bladedancer: attacks sampson as he comes in to fur gnarl. saving this roll til just before sampson's roll!
bright twin nuking....)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Lukas] (roll soak vs 2 agg, all. lukas--)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 3, 5, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] Oh, and sidenote (rolling reflexive sta for regen of 1b from earlier) diff 8 first. then i'll roll the soak for the nuke
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 4, 4, 4, 5, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Sam Modine]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 3, 6, 6, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Sampson Musembi] (soak brigt twin nukin!)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 5, 5, 7, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Lukas] (rolling soak for mindy --)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 4, 4, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Lukas] (rolling fur gnarl for mindy, -1diff for flanking)
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Lukas] (damage)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 5, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Lukas] (soak is down by 2.5, rounding penalty down. soaking...)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 4, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[Lukas] (bladedancer attacks sampson as he comes in to attack!)
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 6, 6, 6, 8, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 9 at target 6)
[Lukas] (damage)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 6, 6, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 9 at target 6)
[Sampson Musembi] (Um. Ow. SSSSOAAAAAAK!! CALGON TAKE ME AWAY! KAHSEEEENOOOOOO SAVE ME!)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 4, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Lukas] (6agg.)
[Sampson Musembi] (Um got some battle scars now. )
[Sampson Musembi] (Um. Um. ( attack, flanking same spot fur gnarl, bite so -2 diff on that! WPPP!)
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 5, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6) [WP]
[Sampson Musembi] (Damage!)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 4, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[Lukas] (soak still down by 2.5)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Lukas] (lukas is going to attack the bladedancer instead, since it's farther forward than the twins. using normal action to Spur Claw, last rage point spent. diff +1 due to bladedancer being partly behind fat man.)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 7) [WP]
[Lukas] (damage to bladedancer)
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 5, 6, 6, 6, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[Lukas] (bladedancer soaks)
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 5, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Lukas] (bladedancer incapped.)
[Sampson Musembi] (WOOOT!)
[Sam Modine] Falling touch Dex + totem bonus + Crinos bonus + medicine + WP
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 8) [WP]
[Lukas] (dark twin is concentrating...
fat man throws lukas back -- str+ath resisted rolls.)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 4, 6, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Lukas] (lukas resisting)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 4, 7, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Lukas] (resisted. raggedy's down. strong man sacrifices 1 health for two actions. first action is changed to getting back up. second action remains attacking Sam.)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Lukas] (damage)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] soaking sta + crinos bonus
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] first rage action, attacking the strong man
Dex + Totem bonus + crinos + Melee = 12 w/specialty
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 4, 6, 7, 7, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Lukas] (strong man soaks!)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 2, 5, 5, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] Damage
Strength + Crinos + 2 + 5 extra succ
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] second rage action is second sword attack
same pool. round we go!
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 5, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Lukas] (soak!)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 4, 6, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] Same pool again for damage as well
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] ok, same attack, however it isn't what sam's original plan was the change means same pool +1 diff
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 4, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 7)
[Sam Modine]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 6 (Failure at target 7)
[Lukas] (soak)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 5, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] Ok damage
str + crinos bonus + 2 + 6 extra succ
Dice Rolled:[ 15 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Lukas] (quick sum-up:
raggedy: KOed
bladedancer: KOed
fat man: still looking pretty tough, though large chunks of his cushioning fat has been ripped away. yummy.
bright twin: untouched
dark twin: almost dead
strong man: pretty battered
declaring for slow NPCs:
fat man clinches lukas
strong man attacks lukas
dark twin attempts to heal himself
lukas: splits actions to 1. attack dark twin 2. attack dark twin or strong man, if dark twin is dead)
[Lukas] (ignore declarations. round isn't over.)
[Lukas] (lukas' rage actions: attacking dark twin still, +2 diff, 3 suxx needed and all.)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 5 at target 7)
[Lukas] (damage)
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 6, 8, 8, 8, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[Lukas] (dark twin is dead -- not enough soak dice to cover it.
last rage action, turning on strong man from flanking position.)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 5, 5, 7 (Success x 1 at target 4)
[Lukas] (damage)
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 4, 4, 5, 7, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Lukas] (strong man soaks.)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Lukas] (NOW, round over. quick sum-up:
raggedy KOed
bladedancer KOed
dark twin dead
fat man: not too bad off, but somewhat fur-gnarled
bright twin: untouched, looking rather rattled at twin's death
strong man: pretty battered
declaring for slow NPCs:
fat man clinches lukas
strong man attacks lukas
lukas: splits actions to 1. break clinch if clinched, attack strong man if not; 2. attack strong man.)
[Sam Modine] Having no rage left Sam will split his actions, The first will be a called decapitation shot to the strong man, the second will be a second called shot to the armorless spot on the fat man.
[Sampson Musembi] Sampson: Yes. BITES! Flanking!
[Armstrong] Garou Flavored Gastric Bypass- Clawing the Fat Man: Dex+brawl=5-2 (ouch twice)= 3, diff 6 - 1 flank = 5
[Lukas] (bright twin nukes one more time. rolling!
you can attempt to dodge the blast wave by rolling dex+ath vs diff 8. however, this will consume an action.)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Lukas] lukas soaks!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 8, 8, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Armstrong] Soaking this!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 4, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Sampson Musembi] Sampson leaps to the side to take cover! Dex4+ ath4 -5.
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 4, 7 (Botch x 1 at target 8)
[Sampson Musembi] Or... Not!
[Sampson Musembi] (soak?)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 5, 6, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Sampson Musembi] REsoak!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 6, 8, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Lukas] (lukas is attacking strong man on first split action.)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Lukas] (damage)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[Lukas] (soak)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] ok, so. Called shot to decap. diff 8
Dex + totem bonus + crinos bonus + Melee - 2 = 10 +WP w/specialty
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 8) [WP]
[Sam Modine] Damage!
Str + crinos + 2 + 2 succ = 11
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Lukas] (soak)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 7, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Lukas] (...at this point, the bright twin turns and runs, abandoning fat man to his fate.)
[Sampson Musembi] I declare! Sampson! Attacks flanking on the fat man! BITE!
[Sampson Musembi] 8 -5crippled =3 and ONE goddamned WP to fucnkign NOT botch!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 6, 6, 9 (Success x 4 at target 4) [WP]
[Sampson Musembi]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 8, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Armstrong] Garou Flavored Gastric Bypass- Clawing the Fat Man: Dex+brawl=5-2 (ouch twice)= 3, diff 6
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 6, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Armstrong] damage: str2+crinos4+1Fatal Flaw+2 successes= 9 dice
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Lukas] (soak!)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 5, 6, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Sampson Musembi] DIE ALREADY ! DIE DIE DIE!!!!!!
[Lukas] lukas -- split action 2, attacking fat man
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 6, 8, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Lukas] damage
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 5, 6, 8, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Lukas] soak
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] Dex + Crinos + Totem + Melee - 3 = 9 w/specialty
diff 8 for called shot to the reduced soak area
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 2, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 8) Re-rolls: 1
[Sam Modine] str + crinos + 2 + 3 = 10
damage
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 6, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Lukas] soak.
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 5, 5, 7, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Lukas] (fat man HULKSMASHes lukas!)
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 5, 9 (Failure at target 6)
[Lukas] (or not. LOL.
sumup:
everyone dead or KO except for bright twin, who ran away down the tunnel and around the corner out of sight, and fat man who's stupidly fighting to the death.
declare for next round: fat man finally gets a hint and starts lumbering away.
lukas hamstrings him and calls for a dogpile maneuver!)
[Lukas] (sorry, not a hamstring -- a body tackle. rollin'.)
[Lukas]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 6, 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7)
[Lukas] (damage)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[Lukas] (soak)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 6, 7, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Sam Modine] BITE! Same drops his sword and rushes in for the kill
Split action 2 bite attacks.
[Sam Modine] Dex + Brawl + Crinos + totem -2 = 10 + WP w/specialty diff 5
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 6 at target 5) [WP]
[Sam Modine] damage,
Str + crinos +1 + 5 succ =13 All agg!
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[Lukas] (soak)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 6, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Sampson Musembi] BITE BIG BOY!!
8-5+2, diff 3 total
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 3)
[Sampson Musembi] (damage on Big boy)
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 4, 4, 6, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 9 at target 6)
[Lukas] (soak)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 3, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Lukas] (very very dead. return to IC!)
[Lukas] The fight is long and arduous -- for Garou, with their supernatural senses and their inhuman speed.
For a human observer, it is quick, savage, and ghastly. Ten bodies come together in a great melee. Teeth snap. Blades clash. At one point, the Bladedancer very nearly eviscerates Sampson -- before being literally gutted by one powerful snap of the Wyrmbreaker's jaws. At one point, the Modi and the Strong Man face off blow for blow, parrying, striking, their swords smashing sparks off one another.
At one point, White-Eyes twists aside from a vicious slicing blow meant to rend her in two. At one point, Sampson, trying to avoid a blast wave from the Bright Twin, leaps right into it.
There's glory, and guts; blood and gore. It all sears by almost too fast for the eye to follow. One by one the wyrmlings fall. The Raggedy Man is first. Then the Blade Dancer. Then the Dark Twin. And then -- the Strong Man goes down, and the courage of the last survivors fail.
The Bright Twin runs first, and runs fast. Cowardly, not even a scratch on him, he flees down the twisting tunnel and is soon out of sight. Left behind, the Fat Man struggles on for a time before realizing the hopelessness of his cause.
He turns to run. The Shadow Lord bowls him over, pins him to the ground, and the packmates tear him, screaming, into so many bloody pieces.
A human, watching, would not know who the heroes were, and who the villain.
--
After, Hispo-formed, Wyrmbreaker is panting with a mouth full of blood. His bark is short and sharp: [i]Quickly now! After the fleeing one! Sampson and Armstrong, stay behind to kill the ones that are still breathing. Collect a trophy!
Then he falls in alongside the modi, racing after the bright twin.
[Sampson Musembi] Skinny Legs COULD catch up with the fleeing Twiggy bane.
But.
After that, what he could do is kinda minimal. However! A bandage or two would not come terribly amiss. He is limping terribly, dragging himself around as needed-- IF its needed. But, there is hacking to do here. The removing of heads. And.. for Sampson, the feet!!
[Sam Modine] The battle haze falls. The thing that was a man when it started is a hulking, slavering beast now. He fights with such a fury the others may think he'll turn on them when all the dust clears. But when it's done he merely slows, his ten foot form heaving at the chest, head nearly brushing the cramped space's ceiling. He is covered in blood, none of it his own. The Modi's fury still crackles hot in the air around them.
He starts after the still living of the two twins the battle not over. Cocking his head over to motion his packmates on as he charges along at speed with his Beta beside him. That smile from before reamins though it's different now, a wide toothed threat to any animal that dares look.
It says 'You're going to die.'
It says 'I'm going to make sport of it.'
[Armstrong] She came back and came to the nearest still-breathing figure. The blow was quick, and it was deliberate. She looked down at their foe and did what she believed would be best- she took its head. And some of it's spinal column; suffice to say, it was a vaguely gratifying experience. She exhaled, and once she had their prize she was ready to go.
[Lukas] They run, the two Full-Moons: shoulder to shoulder, one black, one grey, matched stride for stride.
They tear around the corner -- claws scrabbling for purchase in the strangely spongey floor. They ran faster. They come around another corner...
...just in time to see the Bright Twin slam a heavy door, a door as tough and impenetrable as a bank vault, shut in their faces.
Lukas skids to a stop. Rears on his hind legs, claws at the door. It's more frustration than any attempt to get inside. He drops to all fours again, snarls long and loud at the shut door.
Then he's just over it. Sometimes Lukas has the mindset of a wild animal: to go after what he wants, and what he can get, with unbelievable tenacity; to simply abandon what he cannot. He shakes his heavy pelt out, then scratches his shoulder with a hindpaw. Shifts back to breed form and stands up, snapping his coat to dust it off.
"We won't be getting through this tonight. And even if we do, we're in no shape to fight." He puts his hand against the massive steel door, contemplative. "We'll have to get the rest of the pack. Rest and recuperate. Come back with all our strength."
[Sam Modine] The door creaks in a most evil way as it slams shut. The scream of metal sliding along metal. It gives just enough heads up to the Modi so that he may raise up a giant clawed hand and dig it into the ceiling's pulsing disgusting surface. He drags himself to stop. His companion shifts to the breed form, speaks. He merely looks down, listens.
Answers.
Voices are hardly recognizable coming from the war-form. The red fog over one's vision and the newly sensitive ears don't help. Neither does the giant, animalistic growth of one's vocal chords. But more than anything else it's that deep connection with the Rage that makes it so much different. Words come out clipped, sentences are impossible. But ideas at least can be formed. "Sampson." He points on his body to the quarter where the ragabash took his worst wounds. "Blood."
His head again rolls in the direction of the entrance. "Home."
Thens he's shifting as he walks back down. His black, once slim cargo pants are now ripped up the seams, the button is snapped and zipper hangs on for dear life. His sweatshirt remains in tatters in the spot where he shifted upward minutes ago. His hair, skin, fingernails all are caked in the muck of their opponents. They reach the others and he picks up his sword, and the twin blades of the strong man, taking them with him. "Trophies. He was a worthy opponent."
celebration.
9 years ago