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hazlogsIt is currently 15:30 Pacific Time on Sun Dec 27 2015.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is raining lightly. The temperature is 37 degrees Fahrenheit (2 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the west at 5 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.00 and falling, and the relative humidity is 92 percent. The dewpoint is 35 degrees Fahrenheit (1 degrees Celsius.) For more detail, see: http://www.wunderground.com/cgi-bin/findweather/getForecast?query=98501
Currently the moon is in the waning Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (88% full).
Edgewood House: Downstairs(#2007RAJh)
The front door leads into a small mudroom; coats are hanging on hooks. It opens into the spacious, well lit living room, with several battered old couches arranged into a sort of conversation pit facing the fireplace, a table in the center of them. There are a few chairs, some straight-backed, some plush and comfortable, arranged to make secondary conversation areas, with little end tables placed in strategic locations. There's a notable absence of either breakable objects, or elaborate electrical equipment such as televisions. The walls, painted an increasingly dingy white, have some sweeping dark fabric prints on them, but no paintings or posters. A steep, uncarpeted staircase leads up to the second floor. There are several doors that lead out to other sections of the house, as well. (+view for details)
Felix accepts the drink from Lilah's beer when offered, and then snags another from the fridge once he gets a chance. "Hey," he greets Benny when said packmate returns, and offers him the bag he's been holding. "...hey, have we got things sorted out for if we DO end up just blowin' the place to kingdom come? 'cause I'd hate not to be prepared if it did come to that." Or to miss it.
"That's fine." Thane says to Kevin with a wave of his hand. "I'll warn him to expect calls. This is just the intel phase and brainstorming. First plan is to ensure the sept is all on the same page and the information shared. There may be pieces others have that haven't come to light. After that we can work out specifics and contingencies." The sounds of the arriving car, then the arriving Gnawer, and the passed bottles of water each take some of his focus. The bottle Alicia offers is taken as he says to Benny, "House is free to anyone, though at this rate we'll need to build an extension."
Lilah smiles politely at Kevin when he glances at her, and she reaches into her pocket, tugging out a receipt from McDonald's to write the number down on. Once she's done that, she gingerly places the receipt in her wallet. The beer gets a small sip, and then simply dangles the beer from her fingers. She rubs at the back of her neck, going quiet for now and just listening. She gives a nod of hello to Benny.
The purring engine turns off. A few moments later it's followed by the sound of car doors opening and shutting, and footsteps outside the front door. Mouse enters first, in the process of slicking a bit of rainwater from her hair as she goes. She doesn't shrug out of the dark longcoat she's wearing, but instead carries on further inside, yellow eyes clearly scanning for the source of voices. At first glance, her expression seems her usual; serious, hard to read. A much more observant person, however, might be able to pick up on a certain steely tension that seems...new. Or if not new, certainly not regular.
Benny accepts the package from Felix with a lifted brow and he seems as if he is about to open it but then with another glance around at those present he places it beside him against the wall. Reaching into a pocket, he pulls out a simple hand-carved wooden pipe with a string and tag hanging from it and passes it to Felix, another hand in pocket pulls out a plain wooden two finger ring and he passes it over to Lilah. His eyes shift to Thane when he's addressed and he nods his head and offers a grin. As Mouse enters Edgewood House, Benny offers her the same respectful nod that the others of higher rank than him got.
Salem accompanies Mouse inside, and the young Philodox looks to be in a supremely sour mood. Several here have seen him since he was de-aged, though fewer have since he lost his scars as well.
Benny also offers a nod to Salem as he enters.
Unscrewing the cap on her bottle, Alicia takes a quick slug, then peers over at the entrance of Mouse and Salem. She gives them a quick nod, then glances over to Thane. "I'll work on the dreaming tonight at the least and report back to you what I find."
"Did you call a moot in here or something?" Kevin mock-accuses Thane, lifting his coffee off the arm of his chair in case the growing numbers of garou present means someone needs to perch upon it. Mouse and Salem's advent draws a blink of surprise from him. "Goodness," he murmurs to himself.
Kevin Lockwood is now into his twenties, and physically, he blends in pretty well with those who would outwardly seem to be his peers - he's taller than many of them, leaner than most, and perhaps a little more mature-looking than the average. As ever his face contains a long chin, large nose, heavy eyebrows and brown eyes. He's resumed his previous style of long wavy hair combined with a clean shaven face.
His clothing seems to run pretty much entirely to black. Black jeans, a black t-shirt with the CND 'peace' symbol being struck by lightning, and a smart black windcheater jacket over the top of it. Also black, though rather less expected, is the studded leather dog-collar he sports around his neck.
He's a couple of inches over six feet tall now, much of it his long legs, as ever; sometimes, particularly when sitting down, he doesn't seem to know what to do with those legs, crossing them, tucking them under himself, swinging them sideways, or a dozen other uncomfortable-seeming positions.
Felix gives Benny a grin of thanks, and is just starting to look at the tag when the place gets even MORE crowded. He blinks, looking at Salem, then the scarred woman along with him. Maybe he picks up on the tension, or maybe it's the former's sour expression, but for one reason or another he shifts his position slightly so that he's just a bit more between Lilah and, well, everyone else. It's a pretty casual move, but it's there.
Compact is the word for him: wiry, maybe 5'6" in his beat-up black combat boots, with a sense of compressed energy and imminence like a coiled spring -- or a cocked gun. Never quite still for long, balance flowing through the balls of his feet. There's a striking intensity to his narrow blue-green eyes, the colour contrasting with his fair skin and spiky copper hair; just below the left is what at first appears to be a faint mole, but closer inspection reveals as a small, long-healed scar. His features are appealing, with high cheekbones and a good jawline, but it's the confident mien and roguish smile that most often seem to draw people in.
He's in a well-worn biker jacket of the traditional sort, all fairly closely fit black leather and silvery zippers and snaps. Beneath it, he's got old black jeans with a rip in one knee and the cuffs half walked off, with a faded black band t-shirt ('Anarchy Burger - Hold the Government', parodying the In-N-Out sign) under an open dark red hawaiian shirt. There's a couple leather-and-bead bracelets on one wrist and a length of ball-chain disappearing beneath his collar; his nails were apparently painted black some time ago, since they're starting to show chips. Late teens, most likely, and when he speaks it's in a mellifluous, southern-accented baritone voice.
Thane turns to regard the two newest arrivals out of his one remaining eye. Each Walker is given a close look but the Lord's expression is unsurprised, even expectant. "No moot." He says sidelong to Kevin. "But sometimes they have a habit of calling themselves. Good afternoon." This added back to the Glass Walkers. "Business, I take it?"
This looks like a human man, but one who's decidedly primitive. He's caucasian of skin tone with a faint swarthiness should he stay out in the sun long enough to catch a tan, though his body hair is thick and coarse, a dark brown. His bones are pronounced, giving him the appearance of leanness despite having a solid, even musculature that speaks of someone who's gained his athleticism through rounded activity versus focused weight training. His posture is hunched, though, slightly ape-like. His hair is a darkening brown and long and shaggy with pronounced facial hair. His eyes are an odd pale color like someone unevenly blended yellow and blue, held under thick pensive brows.
There is a look to him, the weight of something undefined. It's like looking into the eyes of a man who has seen terrible things and was never quite was the same after. It's even more haunting considering his blind right eye is surrounded by scars that looks like an attack from a bear. Usually, he's casually dressed but cleans up when the need calls. He's never seen among the normal public in anything but long sleeves regardless of the weather, underneath showing massive scarring on his forearms. They don't seem to restrict movement, but the oddly darkened scars are numerous like lightning bolts across his skin. Another deep slice runs at the upper portion of his abdomen.
Lilah smiles to Benny, thanking him quietly so as not to interrupt anyone else. She pulls out a box and passes it over toward Benny; it's rectangular and even wrapped, albeit with blue Hannukah paper. When Salem and Mouse enter, she also seems to pick up on the tension in the room, and rather quickly her gaze ends up directed at the floor rather than at any one 'rou.
Thick honey-blonde hair, styled in a poofy set of curls, rings this pretty blue-eyed young woman's head. She's in her late teens, and her hair's currently left down, though it's occasionally pinned up. She stands about five and a half feet tall, and is a little on the thin side of things, though not to an extreme. She dresses mostly in informal styles, from ripped jeans and tank tops to the occasional sundress.
Currently, she wears the former, her black tank top emblazoned with a large sequined red heart, and her jeans so ripped as to be nearly indecent. About half of the heart's sequins are missing. Her feet are clad in red strappy lightly-heeled sandals that have seen better days. She wears little in the way of jewelry, just a black wooden bracelet, a stainless steel and rhinestone mood ring, and (probably fake) gold earrings. When she speaks, a fairly thick Southern accent is evident.
Mouse gives Benny a sharp nod in return, and Alicia another, before her attention settles on Thane and she comes to a stop, with still plenty of space between them. "Good afternoon," she replies coolly. "You'd be correct. Business." Her hands slide loosely into the pockets of her longcoat. "Winning a combat challenge against an Athro Ahroun is no mean feat, especially someone like Jacinta, whose rank and accomplishments speak for themselves. You've earned the Wardership with blood. But I'm here to challenge you for Alpha, Consumes-the-Shadows-of-His-Enemies."
The scars draw the eye so immediately they might as well be her face. Most prominent are the five thick, puckered gashes that go from left to right across forehead, nose, cheeks, and chin, miraculously avoiding her eyes, and that look for all the world as though she had an unpleasant encounter with some sort of large, angry predator, but there are others, so many others. Thinner, spidery, older scars trace over areas the larger and newer ones don't fully cover, such as her lips, jaw, even one eyelid, and seem to continue down her neck. Her hair is unremarkable--brown, terribly short, with a tendency to stick out slightly in utterly random directions--apart from a few locks of stark white around her left ear. Her eyes, when not obscured by dark sunglasses, are yellow and black, like those of an animal rather than a human being. A black tattoo not far from her right temple is often obscured by her unruly hair, but takes the shape of a simplistic, almost abstract snake design.
She's not really tall, maybe 5'7 or 5'8 at best, but there's a gawkiness to her body that creates an illusion of extra height, a sense of her torso being just slightly too long. She's stick-thin too, which only adds to the overall image. Beanpole for certain, this one.
As for the woman's clothing, it's functional, if fairly nondescript. She appears to favor loose and comfortable, button-up shirts and slightly baggy pants, with simple black street-walking shoes. What can be seen of her skin beyond her face seems to echo the motif above--thin spidery scars, mostly randomly placed, but a few seem to form meaningless designs. They're heavier and more intricate on the backs and palms of both hands, and perhaps for this reason she also seems to favor wearing fingerless gloves when she can get away with it.
Benny may have not noticed the tension upon the entering of the pair of Glasswalkers, but as Felix angles himself in front of Lilah, Benny casually takes a step forward as well, placing his shoulder in front of the kin on the other side. His eyebrows lift at the challenge, and his mouth opens a fraction in surprise, but he promptly shuts it and stands watch.
Benny stands at 5'8, his build short and stocky. His shoulders are broad and he's a bit barrel chested, though his overall build shows that he is a man of few meals. He wears a denim vest overtop a gray hoodie, the sleeves oftentimes pushed up to reveal his forearms, one of which bares a large anchor tattoo. A pair of slim fitting dark colored chinos rounds out his outfit and are fall just over a pair of white low top Converse. His long brown hair is pulled back into a neat ponytail and he sports a large beard of the same color that seems to have been trimmed in the last week or so. Though he is clean, his face does seem to have a haggard look about it, as if he doesn't sleep often. He has a long chrome wallet chain that hangs down to his knee.
Salem comes to a stop at Mouse's right hand and folds his arms across his chest. His attention's on Thane; everyone else gets pretty much ignored.
There is a loud snort from Alicia as she rises up from her spot on the couch, taking another sip from the bottle of her water. She stares at it thoughtfully for a moment, then says, "Well, things are about to get real interesting here."
Kevin's attention, now, goes to neither Thane, nor Mouse, nor Salem; he looks at Felix and Lilah, and gives Felix a meaningful frown and a very understated, almost imperceptible, shake of the head.
Here is a young woman who is built like a track star with shoulder length brown hair and matching brown eyes. Her skin borders on the slightly tanned due to being kissed from the sun from her outdoor activities. Alicia is of caucasian descent with a hint of peruvian mingled into her DNA. Her apparel tends to be a mix of urban streetwear in the form of loose fitted cargo pants and crop shirts, to long skirts with button down blouses. Fairly tall at five-eight, she looks to be a young woman who has seen her share of scraps, and radiates an aura of confidence and showmanship with how she walks. Under her shirts, her stomach has a number of hacksawed looking scars along her skin that criss-crosses around to her back and just under her breast.
Felix glances from one side of the new challenge to the other, and already has Lilah's hand again. He gives Kevin an equally faint nod, though the suggestion was perhaps not entirely needed; he slips out of the kitchen, drawing her along with him out into the front room, nearly to the door, and murmuring to her there.
Thane may have been tired but relatively genial before but as Mouse speaks the temperature on the Lord's face shifts to subzero. Slowly does he rise from where he was sitting and turns to face the Athro. "The position of Warder is not a consolation prize. Yes, I took the position of both Alpha and Warder with blood. In blood. This sept in is a war, cold as it may be, and I intend to shed blood for it as much as I did to see to commanding it. Any Alpha of this sept should be prepared to and needs to be ready to stand on the front line, to be among their people instead of barking orders from afar. If you desire to lead it then you challenge for it in the same manner as I and prove if you are the commander the sept needs."
By the time Felix grabs Lilah's hand, he'll find she's already backed up an inch or two, ready to get the hell out of Dodge. Her gaze remains fairly well downward, carefully not looking any Garou in the eye. She nods to whatever's murmured to her, immediately turning and making her way out the door.
Mouse's teeth show a little more than usual as she says, "I don't offer consolation prizes." Despite having just put them there, her hands slide back out of her pockets, though her fingers remain loose and still. "You have earned Warder and you are suited to it. But being Alpha, especially Alpha of this Sept, is more than killing the enemy, more than being a war leader, and more than barking orders at /any/ distance. I have stood on the front lines, Shadow Lord. Here, as the commander on the Umbral battlefield at Mount Spokane, and at the fall of the Green in New York City, among many others. We both know the outcome of such a challenge, but don't ever mistake me for a coward. I will fight you on any battlefield you choose, and damn the odds. I challenge you for the Alphaship of the Triquetral Accord, Consumes Shadows. Set the terms."
Salem's jaw works slightly as he clenches his teeth; his silence doesn't look easy, not with the moon as full as it is.
Felix waits until Lilah's left entirely before he heads back toward the kitchen. He doesn't actually go inside this time, instead finding a spot where he can see and hear fairly well but not be within easy friendly (or not so friendly) fire range.
"A coward is the one who never speaks up." Thane says with a sharp wave of his hand and a frustrated snort. "And I would prefer it if Garou stopped mistaking me their enemy simply because of my tribe, but we don't always get what we want. All of life is a battlefield, Mouse. There are just different weapons." An Ahroun's words, spoken by an Ahroun, who keeps his gaze steady on Mouse with a cold, hard determination. "Let it be at the caern as it was before, so the spirits may serve a witness along with those who wish to be there. No interference. No gifts nor rites, nor fetish nor spirit aid including those of pack totems. We fight until submission, death, or frenzy."
"I am all for tribal unification." Alicia says off to the side as she twirls the bottle of water about in her hand.
With Lilah gone, Kevin pays heed once more to those remaining in the room, and in particular Salem. In a strange kind of way, it's as though the youngster's sour look and gritted teeth bring Kevin solace; at any rate, he smiles slightly, and seems to relax. Just the tiniest fraction. But he still moves his coffee down to floor level, as though anticipating potential spillage. When Thane gives out his terms, the ragabash narrows his eyes as though considering them, though they're only indirectly relevant to him.
Mouse fully bares her teeth now, if only briefly. "I'd prefer it if Garou stopped mistaking brute force as the only thing of value, but I'm not getting what I want today either. I've fought alongside every tribe, including Shadow Lords. I'm not challenging your tribe, I'm challenging /you/. The Caern then." She turns sharply on one heel and heads back the way she came at a brisk pace.
Benny casts a meaningful glance at Felix on the other side of the room and slips backward without a word and the sound of the backdoor opening and closing can be heard. Any incredible gifts of hearing would hear the ruffling of leaves and the sound of feet falling outside to announce that the Gnawer is indeed heading for the Caern to play witness to the event.
Salem shoots Alicia a sharp, ugly look before turning to follow Mouse out.
Alicia gives Salem a raise of her brow upwards, then puts the bottle on the table. Turning, she heads after them with a rolling of her shoulders.
(...)
Caern: The Stone Firepit
A subtle undulation of the land forms an curious, natural spiral in the open ground. One side of the formation rises to create a half-circle or crescent of earth surrounding and encompassing the spiral. The ground is littered with rock and flagstones, both large and small. Someone has carefully gathered up a trove of these and erected a clear fire pit. Flagstones with smooth surfaces have been laid along the upper lip of half circle of earth around the fire pit, turning it into a nice seating area. All debris and flammable material's been removed from within the spiral, and a fire has been laid. Just beyond the spiral's edge, wood has been collected and piled for future use. Surrounding this, the rugged walls of the canyon have been half buried by the Wyld surge, making the upper slope of the valley more gentle than it was before. Stands of Douglas fir and white pines mix with hemlock, lodgepole pines, and western larch trees to fill much of the open space, but the trees here are not nearly as dense as they are in the surrounding forests of the bawn. The sparse woods allows a partial view of the sky, and both sun and moonlight filter down to create enigmatic and beautiful shadow patterns on the forest floor. That floor is blanketed with a thick, soft rug of shed pine needles, lichen and leaf debris. The moss-covered relics of old, dead trees occasionally mark a place where once great sentinels loomed above.
The caern expands in two directions from here. The escarpment wall and raised dais form one point of the new triangle, while the center of the caern and its gigantic, Wyld-influenced tree marks the other. The only obvious way out of the caern is the valley slope that leads to the central bawn.
Thane takes to the Crinos form as he steps into the caern, snorting out a plume of breath into the cold air. Rain has rinsed most of the blood from the prior battle free but the full moon's weight still hangs in the air. He flexes claws and joints to loosen them from a day of rest as he makes his way to a clear spot where he waits.
Kevin realises as he enters the caern that he's still clutching half a cup of coffee. He quickly drains the remainder of his drink then carefully stashes the container in a crack that zigzags down the trunk of one of the dead trees on the spot, before adopting crinos form himself.
Mouse pauses before joining the Shadow Lord in order to turn toward Salem. She reaches under her coat and unstraps the holster hidden there, passing both it and the contained weapon over to the other Glass Walker with a meaningful sort of glance. Then she shifts as well up into her misshapen version of crinos--scars are on full display, both the old, spidery ones, the cyberfetish spine, and now long healed, but perhaps not as well known burns in the shape of horrible Wyrm glyphs, her apparent souvenir from New York. She strides toward the spot Thane has already occupied, and while she's no Ahroun, there's clear tension in her form from the moon that's unmistakable.
Benny follows along behind the group of Garou, and as all the rest begin to shift, he similarly boils up into his crinos form. He remains on the outside of the clearing, crossing his large furred arms over his chest to watch as both the challenged and challenger step into the center.
Salem accepts Mouse's weapon solemnly. He shifts up into Glabro, not Crinos, and takes himself over to a spot to witness the fight.
This hairy young brute seems barely human. He's a only bit over five and a half feet tall but looks like a real bruiser, with broad shoulders, a thick neck, and lots of obvious muscle. His face is bony and feral, with a heavy shelf of brow and an out-thrust jaw; sharp fingernails, pointed ears, and overlong canine teeth add to a general impression of animalistic menace and potential violence that's enough to make most mortals blench. His thick, straight black hair is short but shaggy, and though he can't be much into his teens, he's already got a hell of a five o'clock shadow.
He's typically dressed in jeans and t-shirt and sneakers, typical casual kid-wear, with a grey hooded jacket for outdoors. Apart from the footwear, his clothing is all a little bit too big on him, but one might imagine that he'll grow into it in a year or so.
Felix heads along with his packmate, having apparently abandoned his beer somewhere along the way -- probably the kitchen counter, but who knows. He peels off his jacket while things are getting set up, taking off his shirts and tucking them into the waistband of his pants before putting the jacket back on and shifting up to Glabro, for the time being. The jacket gets actually zipped up for once; it's cold out here.
Consumes-Shadows is one-eyed, his abdomen laced with claw scars. There's an array of freshly healed stripes and punctures across his body. The skin is clear but the fur has yet to fill in, evidence of the prior battle. In particular it looks like his ear and scalp were about taken off given the bare, jagged edges. He faces the Walker elder as she takes her place and dips his head once like a boxer touching gloves. Then, once she indicates readiness, he's in motion. The Ahroun comes in with his weight forward and body lower, warding with a testing swipe of his claws towards the Theurge.
Three From Ashes can at least move with decent speed, and she twists backward and to the side in an attempt to avoid the swipe entirely. Both arms come up to protect her face and neck as she does so, in case she's not successful.
The claws from Consumes-Shadow brush past the Glass Walker but it is no more that a fleeting glance as she's in motion. The real blow comes after as the arm he has been using to protect himself swings back and then forward in a sweeping, power-laden blow for the Theurge's middle.
Three From Ashes turns her hip into the blow, but it lands, and it tears. First blood goes to the Shadow Lord, and now the Walker takes the offensive. Where he went low, she goes high, pushing up and digging claws precisely for eyes and the just-healed scalp, sharp and fast if not particularly strongly--for a crinos, anyway--before he has a chance to free his striking hand from her flesh.
Salem watches the fight with clenched jaw and fingers tightly gripping Mouse's holstered gun.
Reflection comes at a fast pace, headlong down into the Caern making landfall just as the Alpha's first shot lands and he growls deeply. His further movement towards the challenge is slower, more controlled.
As her pack Beta comes into the area, The Last Song Standing gives a loud chuff towards the Fenrir as she watches with intensity in her eyes. She gives her body a sway back and forth, looking to keep her joints limber.
Consumes-Shadows is big and quick but not that fast to avoid close combat without the boon of gift and totem. Blood is met with blood in short order and once again the right side of his head bleeds, spilling red across the blinded side of his face where peripheral vision is non existent. His snarl is sharp and pained and frustrated and it fuels his motions. He throws his weight forward in the confines of their battle to try and throw the Theurge off her feet and leave her open to take the fight to the ground.
Three From Ashes once again tries to twist to the side, although she goes the opposite direction from last time. Her attempt is somehow more urgent however; she knows the danger of being pinned.
The Shadow Lord attacks with an accuracy only just prevented from landing by the Glass Walker's twisting away. Three From Ashes dodge was smooth but over-extended, considering how close they were and how little Consumes had to move to close that distance for a bull rush. The two are left standing there moving quickly and squared off, in almost a parody of a boxing match.
And they dance back to square one. Consumes-Shadows doesn't let the grass grow, however, and he's back in motion the moment he realizes she's out of the way. He turns and drops low, swinging out a claw for the leg of the Theurge with the clear intent to hamper her movements if not outright cripple her.
Reflection steps over to his pack alpha and bumps against her, quickly returning his attention to the fight.
Three From Ashes leaps as Thane drops. She's not just attempting to dodge again, she's trying to get right on top of him and dig in. It's probably no accident that she favors jumping toward the Shadow Lord's blind side.
The two take a moment to right themselves and then move almost simultaneously. Thane goes in low, as Three From Ashes makes her jump, which isn't fast enough to stop the Shadow Lord's claws from finding bloody purchase. Glass Walker blood goes flying from a right ankle that is now simply ruined with the sound of claws striking deep and catching on the joint of that ankle. Scraped from bone, the flesh of that ankle now appears like raw hamburger meat wrapped around splintered bits of white.
Consumes-Shadow doesn't make it out of this exchange unscathed however, and now has a challenger on his back, claws snagged in fur and cutting into flesh.
Consumes-Shadows is not amused. Nope. The Shadow Lord snarls at being treated like a bucking bronco and he reacts as predictably as one. He jerks upright best he can under the weight of the other Crinos, jaws gaping in a roar. His claws come up to seek the Theurge and drive them mercilessly into whatever he can reach and shred what he can find in.
Three From Ashes's breath seizes a little at the pain, but it doesn't delay her in the slightest. As soon as she's on Consumes-Shadows' back, she attempts to wrap both legs around him and dig in with claws for purchase, but her main, almost sole focus is his single eye. She digs down and in for it with an equal amount of viciousness, her intention to blind him quite clear.
The movement of that "bronco" doesn't do either of them any favors in trying to land their attacks. A couple of times, the Glass Walker's claws brush across the current Alpha's eyelids or glance off the frontal bone, but no purchase beyond superficial scratches to the skin is made.
The Shadow Lord is, again, more focused on getting this Glass Walker off of him than landing an attack and that is just what happens. Thane's claws dig in here and there and find hold on one of those small metal pieces in Three From Ashes' back. This is all that is needed to jerk the Glass Walker off to the side and fling her to the ground, where she lands hard on her back.
Salem twitches. Or maybe it was a flinch. Regardless, the young Philodox is wound tight, close to the snapping point.
Consumes-Shadows keeps the momentum going with no apparent intent to let there be time to breath. He comes in rushing teeth first right for the exposed belly of the Glass Walker with no signs of intending anything but to eviscerate her. With the motion his body drops down towards a four-legged posture as the fight seems to be going to the ground.
Reflection seems to be mostly moving with the fighting in short swaying motions, again, like someone watching a boxing match. When Mouse hits the ground, the Fenrir has a sympathetic 'oof' come from his as well.
Speech-and-Silence's attention is fixed on the fight. He seems to be muttering to himself under his breath, like a sports commentator whose microphone has come loose from its socket.
Three From Ashes digs the claws of one hand into the dirt and stones beneath her and flings the assortment into the oncoming Shadow Lord's eye in the same motion as her attempt to roll out of the way. She looks nearly finished, but there's nothing sluggish or hesitant about this dirty move.
Continuing to move about the fight along the fringes, the Children of Gaia looks to be on edge as she studies the damage being brought upon by each of the combatants.
Felix watches avidly but quietly. He shifts on his feet, not quite able to stay still but staying well back from the area of combat.
Leaning forward at the spectacle of the two garou in mortal combat, Sugar Lips bares his own fangs reflexively as his eyes watch each exchange closely. He stands near his pack mate, and as the fight goes to the ground, the Theurge crouches down, placing both of his hands on the ground as if being lower will afford him a better angle.
The handful of stones and dirt thrown by Three From Ashes takes Thane full on in the face, but to little actual effect considering the attacker is already incoming through the air. The Glass Walker's rolling prevents her from what looked like an intended complete disembowlment, but only just.
Wild and blind, the Shadow Lord is on the edge of, but not yet lost to Frenzy. His swipes are heavier than they are fast, more like a Gurahl with bone-jarring strikes rather than a Garou with attempts to rend flesh.
Two deadly fights in a row is exhausting and it's clear Consumes-Shadows is wearing thin. With dirt and stone in his eye he's forced to back off to clear his vision but his nostrils are flared and he's shaking. He smells the Glass Walker's blood and it looks like it's taking him every effort not to rush in and render her permanently stained upon the caern's grounds.
Three From Ashes's momentum carries her a certain ways, but when she stops, she stops. The Walker shifts to hispo, but it seems slow and sluggish, and it doesn't bring her to her feet.
Ears flicking forward, The Last Song Standing steps forward a few paces, eyes moving from the Shadow Lord to the Glass Walker.
Consumes-Shadows is crouched like a bull ready to charge with his bloodied claws sunk deep into the ground. Victory is once more his as the Glass Walker doesn't get up but he seems conflicted, not quiet unable to shake off the murderous anger even as the challenge is over. His jaws open in a bellowing roar of challenge as if expecting someone else to come at him. He's not frenzied yet as he's lucid enough to jerk himself upright and take several heavy, unstable steps away from the Theurge.
~Enough. We're done with tonight. Show is over.~ The Last Song Standing rumbles to the crowd as she surges forward, moving towards the Glass Walker carefully. ~Thane, take a walk and cool down, please. Congratulations on your success, Alpha. James, go with him. Get some drinks and talk about scars and glory or something. There is no more need for blood shed tonight. Tomorrow will be a new day.~
Speech-and-Silence's muttering slowly winds down toward a halt. He takes a couple of uneasy steps toward the other Glass Walkers present, then pauses, the picture of indecision.
Salem spits out some ugly words in Serbian, looking like someone not only pissed in his Cheerios but then dropped a giant radioactive Balefire dump into the bowl as well.
Three From Ashes gets her front legs under her, and very unsteadily tries to push up there, though her back legs aren't cooperating just yet.
Reflection turns heavy hispo head from his Sept Alpha to his Pack Alpha with an expression like the Child of Gaia just went crazy. James does, however, obey like a good beta with the good sense to rise up to the homid form as he walks over, and shake his head. "Thane-rhya," he rumbles, "Lets get you healed up. I'm sure someone will try to kill you tomorrow, too." He spares Mouse a long stare and offers aloud with honest tone, "Well fought, Three From Ashes-rhya. Perhaps next time." He gives his Pack Alpha a look again, back and forth between her and the defeated challenger, full of meaning.
Felix relaxes about halfway, eyes on Thane and the Walkers. The fight may be over, but nothing says a new one couldn't break out, after all.
Speech-and-Silence appears to come to a decision. He walks around Salem and joins his tribal leader, squatting down alongside Three From Ashes and offering her an arm. He remains silent, in contrast to his constant muttering while the fight was in progress.
As she continues her lumbering stride towards the fallen Glass Walker, The Last Song Standing kneels down and gently puts her paw upon her, then softly rumbles a prayer as she begins to force her healing gifts through her with a soft glow of the hand. ~You fought courageously, Mouse-Rhya. You have my respect as a warrior.~
Salem, his glabro face all scowly, stalks over to join the others around Mouse. He's still holding her gun and holster, of course, though doesn't offer it back to her right away.
Consumes-Shadows manages finally to get his blood back under the boiling point and drags himself down to his Glabro form with the beast kicking and screaming. There's a last shake of his head and a bloodied hand smearing the dust remaining in his face, though it mostly just turns it muddy. As James approaches the Lord reflexively begins to stiffen, but no, no challenge comes and he lets out a long breath to let his shoulders ease. He looks every bit like he believes every work the Fenrir says is true and holds up a hand to ward him off, "Shortly. Help them see to Mouse. My injuries can wait. I need a minute."
Three From Ashes's muzzle wrinkles as her flesh knits slowly back together. She's still quite hurt, but no longer torn to pieces, and she follows that by getting her hind feet under her and standing, while favoring the mangled ankle. ~If I didn't have your respect as a Garou before,~ she seems to mean this for James as well as Alicia, ~This fight shouldn't change anything. There was only one outcome to this fight and we all know that. Let's not pretend otherwise.~ Kevin gets a sniff and a brief lean and brush as she attempts to maneuver past him.
Last-Song-Standing pushes herself up to her feet and glances down at the blood on her paw. ~You always had my respect, and always will.~ With an ear flickering up towards the others, she gives a rocking of her shoulders, then starts away from the Glass Walkers to tend to their own.
Reflection stands, for a moment conflicted between the orders of two Alphas. The Sept's command seems to hold some bit more sway than his Pack's but does not entirely move the Fenrir. Instead, he steps away and regards both Mouse being healed and the both of them being dour. He speaks more to the assembled than to Mouse directly, "The Elder of the Glass Walkers and Beta of this Sept has the respect of the Get of Fenris. She is a wise leader, a powerful Theurge with great works to her name. She has gone to places that none other could have been sure existed, and returned with her goals accomplished. That her bravery to challenge an Ahroun who had just bested one greater than his rank and that she also showed that she can fight here in the realm? Just adds to our respect for her. Be there glory and honor to the name of Three From Ashes the Wise."
Salem falls into step with Mouse and continues to look grouchy as hell.
Giving a look to Felix, Sugar Lips shifts down to his glabro shape and then steps slowly down the rocks toward Thane and Reflection. As he draws nearer, Benny holds his hand up and out to either side to show that he means no harm at all as he says, ~Maybe you'd let me offer you a bit of healing, Thane-rhya? Just to take the edge off a little, alright?" He stops a few paces out from the Shadow Lord, arms still held in a peaceful manner.
Three From Ashes shoulder brushes Salem as well, and slowly limps up toward the edge of the Caern. Her ears twist back, however; she clearly hears both the Gaian and the Fenrir.
"There is never one outcome." Says Thane, voice low and rough and exhausted. "Odds, but never certainty. You fought well and bravely despite those odds. Know none of this was personal." And he says nothing further to Mouse and turns his eyes towards Benny as he approaches. He looks at the Gnawer for a time as if not all of him was seeing the younger Garou but after several long moments of silence he gives a shallow nod.
Felix gives Reflection a faintly impressed look at his declaration, then looks over the combatants and those tending them again. "So... anythin' I can do for anyone?" he asks, voice gravelly with the not-quite-human form.
(...)
The Hub: Main Floor
The main floor of 'the Hub' is a spacious, almost sprawling room, with a two-story high ceiling and a large loft that looks out over the room itself, accessed via a winding metal staircase set at the opposite end from the heavy security door. One side of the floor is completely open, with a bank of windows facing north and offering a brilliant view of the city, especially at night. The other side contains a series of doors and doorways that lead into other rooms, large and small. One is clearly a kitchen (a very nice large kitchen with its own island and eating area), one is a bathroom, and one a repurposed conference room with a smaller central table than likely existed before, and comfortable rolling chairs that have clearly been reclaimed from various goodwill sources. Other rooms serve as storage, with one standing out as a well maintained server room, from which the local Walker server, various databases, and hardware responsible for the block's free wifi can be accessed.
The open floor itself sports several areas clearly designated for various purposes, though none have been walled off from the rest in any real fashion. One contains a comfortable, beat-up couch and armchairs arranged in a semi-circle around a large flatscreen TV and coffee table, another is a bank of multiple computers, each with their own desk and office chair, while a third is a modest exercise area mostly consisting of an open space of floor covered in a cushioned mat and several free weights. A number of monitors have been mounted on the wall next to the security door; the largest displays the area immediately on the other side of the door, with another showing the interior of the private elevator. The third and largest is split into sections, with one section dedicated to the sub-basement, another to the roof, and the others switching routinely between various parts of the interior and exterior of Maxwell Tower.
"Nothing," Collins answers, belatedly. "I carry nothing. Because, let's face it. A nine-mil isn't going to do me much good if security can't keep the building. On the other hand, it'll freak the fuck out of a tenant or customer, especially on the ground floor. So..." He shrugs. "My job isn't to carry a gun. I'm not a soldier. I'm a lawyer, and an okay manager. I'm meant for other battles." He gestures at the box. "But this'll... I can make it work, and you're right. It's probably the smart thing."
Rina's brow furrows, her expression darkening a touch toward real worry. "If you load it right," she says, "you can at least take down the minions. I mean, keepin' one of their nasty bad-mojo Frankensteins busy frees up someone else to handle the Dancers, if they come all together..." She rakes a hand back into her hair and starts pacing. "Usually, though, it's more like assault waves... it just depends on the target. Place like this, you gotta be on high alert for explosives. We've lost a couple buildings that way."
Kavi appears at the top of the stairs, a deep frown replacing the faint smile he wore, before. He hesitates for a moment, and then makes his way down to rejoin the others. "It-- I thought I left it, here..."
Collins looks up at the new arrivals, beside him on the table are a pair of binders and a glass that holds two-fingers of something amber. It's not the Talisker on the table, though. That bottle's still sealed, probably came out of the large gift box which is also on the table that he and Rina are standing by. "Like I said," he says, foreshadowing the sentiment he's about to repeat, "Nothing I'm going to be able to do about it with a gun. I serve best by keeping it from that, and trusting security if it gets messy. If the time comes that we need me to be shooting, a) something's gone horribly, horribly wrong, and b) I'll have plenty of time to get to the armory or it's plain not going to make a difference anyway."
Rina lifts her head immediately when Kavi returns; she gives Collins a half-there nod, but half-turns to look toward the stairs and the Galliard. "Well, 's'gotta be eitha here, or at the studio..."
Kavi is quiet as Collins explains, his gaze dipping downward in response to the sentiment. There's a twitch at his brow as he looks up again, returning to Rina's side, as though he might say something to contradict the man, but Rina's voice snags his attention and it's to her he speaks, instead. "It wasn't there," he says with a shake of his head. "I thought I left it here, before I went to the caern. I didn't want it to be in your way, and... I didn't want it out there."
Collins is pulled out of his morbid reverie by Kavi's statements. "Oh! That was your guitar, wasn't it!" He exclaims, pointing in Kavi's direction, then to one of the couches by the television, as if the empty seat at one end of the couch, and Kavi were linked in some important fashion.
Rina lets out a visible and audible breath of relief, worry dissipating in a rush.
Kavi, also, releases a sigh, though not all of the worry yet fades. "Yes," he answers, his gaze drawn to the couch where Collins points. "Yes, I-- I thought I put it upstairs, but. I guess..." He swallows, looking around the room again. "Do you know where it is?"
"Yes!" Collins says, grinning. Then, a moment later, he seems to realize that the affirmative is not a useful enough answer for the querent. He points off to a coat closet. "Couple of folks got rowdy on the couch so I moved it before it got knocked over. That closet, left side."
"Thanks," Rina says, her smile flashing warm for a moment, genuine. The strain is visible, now and then, but she's hiding it all fairly well. She turns to pace again, nursing the cinnamon whiskey like it's gold.
Kavi looks from Collins to the closet and back. "Thank you," he says, his voice carrying the weight of gratitude. Even before the words are out, he's heading to the closet to retrieve the instrument.
The sound of the elevator can be heard shortly before the security door swings open. Mouse looks...well, she looks like she needs a change of clothes, a shower, and plenty of bandages. She's limping heavily, and her jaw is set hard enough that it's a wonder her teeth aren't grinding.
"Not at all," he says to both expressions of gratitude. "Sorry you were running all over looking for it. I should've left a note or something." He lifts the glass from the table and sips at it, one finger trailing along the rim when it's not engaged with his mouth. That hand stills when the doors swing open and Mouse enters. There's about three full heartbeats of useless gaping and then the glass is being set back down a little hard. "Are you okay, ma'am?"
Salem is with Mouse, scowling as he helps her along.
Rina turns at the sound of the door, of course, her reactions a little slowed by her focus on Kavi in the moments prior. "Jesus fucking Christ on roller skates!" she blurts out, setting her glass hurriedly on the table and rushing over to help. "Mouse. Fuck. God. What *happened*?"
Kavi is by the door, the closet open, when Mouse and Salem enter, and he turns to face them, wide eyed. He swallows, taking that moment to control any other reaction he might have, and looks from them to Rina and back. "What--"
Mouse shakes her head slightly. "I challenged," she says by way of explanation. "I lost. I just need to..." Her sentence doesn't so much cut off as trail off, as she catches sight of Kavi in the room. "...get cleaned up," she finishes, after a moment.
"Challenged..." Collins, Mr. Slow-on-the-uptake himself, says. "For... what, Sept?" He's much slower to actually rush over than Rina is, but he is trailing behind at probably a quarter the other Kin's pace. "You want me to have anything sent up?"
Rina takes the side opposite Salem, gingerly offering support. She doesn't speak, but there's a sharp anxiety in her expression, and she focuses entirely on Mouse and her answer.
"Goddamn shithead Shadow Lord," Salem says, full of bile and frustration. "'Oh, I'm /so/ put out by you not trusting me because of my tribe and its /ten thousand fucking years/ of screwing people over, let me hit you to prove I am capable of leading the Sept in war.'" He moves away as the kin move in to help Mouse, probably because he's looking very keen on hitting someone himself.
Rina tenses visibly, her jaw tightening and something fierce coming to her eyes. She practically bites the inside of her lip to hold back that anger.
Kavi takes a step back, still looking from one to the other, though most of his attention is on the obviously injured elder. He looks... confused as much as concerned, letting the others do what is necessary as he makes an effort not to be in the way.
"He pretty much covered it," Mouse says, once Salem finishes. "I challenged Thane for Alpha. Unsurprisingly, he chose a straight fight. And no, Collins. Thanks. I just need to get upstairs."
"Thane?" Rina asks, her expression drawing taut with incomprehension. She's literally taken aback, halting Mouse's progress, until she remembers what she's supposed to be doing. "Who the fuck is *Thane*? Some Get Viking wannabe with a spear and magic helmet?" Almost immediately, she blinks and glances over to Mouse with an embarrassed little muttered, "Sorry," and resumes their slow progress toward the stairs.
"Yes ma'am," Collins says, nodding once and stopping well short of being in 'fussing over someone mind-blowingly above his station' range. He stands there, awkwardly a moment, then nods once, helplessly, to Salem. Another beat, then he turns with a back-step and head back for the table where the gift box rests.
Salem drops Mouse's holstered gun on the coffee table and drops himself onto the couch. He takes a breath, lets it out. It doesn't really help his temper much. "Thane is a Shadow Lord Ahroun. Very cold, very ruthless, very Let's Kill Things That Don't Fit In My Nice Little Violent Worldview. I don't know what pissed me off more. Him sneering at Mouse's ability to lead -- because only a goddamn Ahroun can lead from the front, apparently -- or everyone else's fa la la brownnosing over the shit-fucking pool of piss."
In those first few moments, Kavi dances at the periphery, uncertainty keeping him from closing, or offering any assistance. But as the group progresses, he moves around to the front, barring their way with his presence. "Wait," he says, his voice hesitant, as is the expression on his face. He gestures to the couch. "Wait. Can you... Just sit for a second? I-- Can I try?" The question is directed to Mouse, but the galliard glances to Rina as he waits for the elder's answer.
Mouse blinks as Kavi is suddenly between her and her destination. "...Try?" This question seems more directed to Rina than the Galliard, which means both of them are looking to her at about the same time. "It's not like it's new, Jack. Or the sudden praise for fighting a ridiculous battle."
Startlement flashes across Rina's expression, even alarm, when she sees Kavi. She opens her mouth to speak, to object, obviously... but then thinks better of it, and swallows. A look over to Mouse, and she answers the question. "To heal you," she says, her voice gone a little hoarse. "To take on your wounds himself. So you're not-- out of commission, y'know?" When she looks back over to Kavi, there's something softer in her eyes, though the look on her face might be a little pained. "That's a good idea, but-- your decision, Mouse-rhya."
Collins stands by the table, picking up his whiskey again and studying the proceedings from his safe little place. Most of what's being discussed is clearly beyond his pay grade. So says the mixture of genuine curiosity and interest being tempered by a polite, if obviously faked, detatchment on his face.
Salem nods to Mouse's remark, looking thoroughly disgruntled regardless. He mutters something under his breath in Serbian and slouches deep into the couch with arms folded across his chest.
Nodding at Rina's explanation, Kavi takes a small step back, no longer preventing Mouse's progress, either to couch or stairs. He pulls a small knife from his pocket, but holds it tight in one hand. "I... I don't know if it will work, but. But if you'll let me?"
Mouse looks faintly, briefly pained in a manner that doesn't seem related to her physical condition. "...Yeah. Yeah, alright. If you can focus on the ankle. Alicia already did her bit though." She moves to sink down onto the couch.
Rina helps her, careful with the injured woman. It's obvious, from the way she adroitly handles Mouse, that she's done this sort of thing ... many times before.
Salem comes a little bit out of his sulk to sit up and watch the procedings.
Collins, meanwhile, hasn't. Unless Kavi's about to write a report... which would be weird unless he was going to do so in blood. Yeah, Collins is out of his element here. So he stands there, stupidly, with a whiskey that only covers for the gawking when it's in his face; which isn't that often.
Kavi swallows and nods, his gaze once again shifting between kin and elder. He drops down to his knees before Mouse and opens the blade on the small knife. "I--" he starts, but breaks off, instead focusing on Mouse and the damaged leg. He draws the blade across his palm, and as the blood begins to well, he reaches out to press it against the still raw wounds. There's no outward glow, no obvious sign that anything is happening, other than the growing tension in the galliard's form. His expression pinches with pain and his eyes close tight.
Mouse's jaw tightens in reaction to...something, and she too closes her eyes, if only for a moment.
Rina looks between the two of them, balanced on the balls of her feet; she looks like she's ready to catch Kavi if his balance wavers. When Kavi doesn't collapses, though, she looks the slightest bit relieved... at least he hasn't taken on *all* of Mouses's injuries. Just as she's about to say something, a sequence of guitar chords sounds from somewhere in her jacket. The woman almost jumps out of her skin, but then says, in a slightly choked and reluctant way, "Mouse, I gotta take this..."
Salem's pocket makes a modem dialup noise right out of the 1990s, moments after Rina's phone plays guitar. He twitches, then pulls it out to look at it, then grumbles something that sounds like good night before heading, quickly, up toward the roof.
