Erik Gets Rescued

[hazlogs]

Here's a scrubbed copy of the log from Erik's rescue. The only big problem
that I had was how to handle your deformity (which I don't know what it is
OOC or IC.) I put a big orange jumpsuit on him, which ever-so-convieniently
had been dedicated by Vincent, or something. (I'm personally I little peeved
I couldn't think of anything better on the spot, but it was late. :/)

Anyway, we figured you as the silent type, so you don't show up too much
even after we get you. :)

Mark
Steven@Garou

--SNIP--
4/3/97

Planning Room(#3800RFJ)
A government office building, generic and unassuming. The worst of them
always are.
Contents:
Piddles
Thomas
Erik
Mark
Shea
Vincent
Elspeth

Officer Paolin arrives with his packmates, at least with the ones who show
themselves at all to view, at the abandoned temporary base he scouted the
previous night. He watches as the others arrive.

Piddles follows Thomas and company, idly scratching his butt and yawning.

Thomas arrives at the same time as, if not entirely /with/ Piddles. He lurks.
He doesn't seem to mean to, but he does.

Steven arrives just before Shea, peering through the doorway of the building
before he steps through it. "Hi," he says to Vincent, locating the theurge.
"Shea agreed to help. Mark said he'd be along too. I couldn't find anyone
else on short notice."

Mark comes in shortly after Steven.

Shea is, indeed, just behind Steven, and she nods all 'round, once she's
inside.

Officer Paolin watches the approaches from a vantage point, and waits. He's
dressed in civilian gear, now.

Vincent says "This all?"

Steven turns around to look behind him and says to Vincent, "I guess so. You
ask anyone else to come along?"

Thomas glances at Shea as she comes in and betrays the faintest startlement
before quickly looking elsewhere. Perhaps he doesn't know many people with
facial tattoos.

Elspeth says "Our pack have babysitting and territory and stuff to worry
about as well. Sorry."

Mark says "So, what's the plan?"

Thomas's eyes skitter over the group as a whole, as the conversation starts
up, and he receded a little further into the background.

Vincent says "Right. Time is short. Plan is simple. Thomas is kinfolk, here,
and will stay here at our temporary base. I've scouted escape routes into
the alleys and empty lots." He relates these routes. "Those are if there's
a snafu. Got that part?""

Elspeth watches the others.

Piddles raises his hand.

Thomas's eyebrows crook and he runs a hand through his hair. He may have a
question, but he doesn't seem to want to voice it in this company.

Vincent says "If you have something to say, out with it."

Piddles grins a little sheepishly. "What is 'snafu'?" His accent is heavy and
not terribly identifiable.

Shea clears her throat, to offer, "I'll just say this, havin' dealt with the
INS before. If it -should- go bad, make sure you forget that you know any
an' all of us, especially since the lad's Irish. They're already suspicious
of us, here, an' after the FBI fiasco, we don't need any more attention."

Thomas rubs his jaw. "Was there something you needed me to be doing here, or
just making sure no one walks off with the graffiti?" His tone is a lot
more diffident than his words.

Vincent says "Snafu, Gnawer, is French for Planned by a Ragabash." He listens
now, as Shea speaks. "Exclent point. We have that covered. If we can't
extract our target the easy way, there is plan B. That's on a need to know
basis. And Thomas, yes, you'll keep track of us, should we get separated
and return here in disarray. Also, you'll watch the clothes."

Thomas nods, leaning against the wall and trying to be inconspicuous.

Piddles nods thankfully and seems to be assimilating the new data.

Steven asks, "So once we get inside...what then? Shift up and kick ass? Or
did you have something more subtle like a diversion planned?" His tone
makes it seem like he would guess Vincent's done the latter.

Vincent says "There's still enough moon, and plenty of mirrors in the
unwatched and unguarded at this time of night lavatories near the holding
cells. Gotta love cutbacks. We go in over, er, sideways. This should all be
stealthy. They isolated Erik, because of an anonymous call someone made
suggesting he was contagious."

Mark says "There's probably a camera in his cell then."

Vincent says "You all understand the risk, of going through the shadows,
right? The camera, we have covered."

Shea says "If anyone doesn't understand the risks, might I suggest they stay
out?"

Vincent smirks at Shea's observation.

Shea shrugs, explaining, "Once less thing t'have t'worry about, that's all."

Steven nods. "It's got to be done somehow, and we can't afford a screw up,"
he says with a shrug.

Thomas examines his nails in detail.

Vincent says "Right. We ready?"

"Just one more thing, Vincent." Steven sticks a thumb out towards Piddles.
"Who's he?"

Piddles smiles pointily. "I's Piddles-Into-the-Wind, Gnawer full moon." He
bows in the manner of someone who is never entirely sure that he won't
simply topple over onto his head. "From Tejas. New to Santa Clara."

Steven looks at Piddles for a long moment and then back at Vincent, giving
the latter a questioning look. He turns back and says, "Steven MacDiarmud.
Fianna Galliard." He swallows. "A pleasure." He adds under his breath, "I
guess."

Shea bites the inside of her cheek, so that her grin doesn't spread too
widely across her features.

Thomas chokes quietly upon hearing "Pid's" full name.

Mark shakes his head and mutters. "Charming name."

Piddles grins. "Tanks. Made up meself."

Vincent leads the Garou to the camp-mirror hanging from a nail in a dim room.
"Prepare, then come."

Elspeth shifts into Glabro form.

Vincent shifts into Glabro form.

Mark shifts into Glabro form.

Thomas watches, fascinated.

Steven moves to a corner of the building, removes and drops his clothes off
in a pile, shifting to hispo. He then follows the others towards the
mirror.

Shea shifts not at all, though she follows the crowd to the mirror.

Fixes By Hand attempts to enter the Umbra.

Piddles thinks that Steven had the best idea, walks out of his too-large
thrift shop clothes, and shifts to hispo.

You pass into the Umbra slowly, the gauntlet clinging to you like a sentient
slime. The dark city Umbra feels sticky and ugly around you; there seem to
be tentacles of night reaching out for you, even though nothing ever quite
touches. In the distance, there are the ordinary squeals and shrieks you
expect in a dark city, but they have taken on an odd, echoing quality.
There is the roar os passing vehicles in the distance, but instead of all
the noises blurring together into one roar, each sound remains sharp and
distinct and disturbing.

Mark's expression shows his distaste for this region of the umbra. "Let's get
this over with."

Elspeth grins to Vince perfectly cheerily, moving ahead of the others and
swatting at faint strands of vapor where they appear offensive.

Fixes By Hand says, ~Home sweet home. Elspeth, after you.~

Piddles patters after the group, dog-grinning gleefully and moving out to
defend a flank if need be.

Heart-of-Fury follows along behind Shea, posture on guard and tense.

Shea's shoulders tighten a bit, and her nose wrinkles, but she maintains her
homid form, muttering quietly, "This is just vile.."

Elspeth soon halts, and draws her pistol. ~Listen up, people,~ she growls and
gestures at the building up ahead. ~This place isn't the nicest one to be
in even Realmside. Stick together, and don't get distracted. No losin' it
and Ragin' off anywhere. Fixes by Hand is goin' to be snoopin' out through
the Gauntlet to find the right spot, and mostly the rest of us are here to
se he don't get jumped.~

Fixes By Hand does as instructed, attempting to peer through to the dim
echoes of Reality, cuautious and patient.

Mark watches the surrounding murk.

Piddles eyes the cobwebs and drifting darkness while assiduously beginning to
drool.

Fixes By Hand leads the way, navigating fairly smoothly as he peeks,
considering, towards the shambling, ugly building where Erik is isolated.

Pack> Heart-of-Fury conveys through Branwyn a sense of trepidation and
wariness that grows as he moves forward.

Heart-of-Fury pads forward cautiously. ~There is something unpleasant lurking
around this building, up near the higher levels, I believe,~ he reveals.

Shea glances down over her shoulder at Heart-of-Fury, then looks forward,
eyes narrowed a bit. "When -isn't- there somethin' nasty, in the scab's
shadow?"

Fixes By Hand nods at the Fianna's warning, and attempts to verify his
observation, Sensing cautiously.

Elspeth looks, from the expression on her ugly mug, to agree with the
Theurge. ~So let's hope we don't have to go up there.~

Piddles peers upward, his hackles bristling and his tail beginning to vibrate
like a chilly Chihuahua.

Fixes By Hand says, ~Lovely. That is where our quarry is held.~

Mark says, ~Naturally. What sort of unpleasantness are we looking at?~

Heart-of-Fury says, ~I can't say for certain. I do get the sense that it
isn't threatening. Yet.~

Fixes By Hand leads on, trying to gauge the danger, observing ~What do you
think would live where sick prisoners are held?~

Elspeth growls, ~What the fuck?!~

Elspeth continues, ~Hold on. The metis is sick?

Fixes By Hand says, ~No, Elspeth. The metis is isolated. This protects the
Veil. The price we pay.~

Shea shakes her head, murmuring, "Risk your tail t'protect the Veil," even as
she shifts upward, finally.

The federal building, on this side of the veil, seems the archtypical haunted
house. There is a creaking fire escape that starts aboutfive feet above the
ground leading up.

Fixes By Hand scouts for alternative entries, not liking the look of the fire
escape, patient, but aware that time passes.

Elspeth reaches up and draws the fire-stair down. ~I want a nose up top,~ she
indicates.

There is an entryway, just like in the realmside, but dark figures lurk
there.

Fixes By Hand nods. ~That is most direct.~

Piddles volunteers to go first.
Piddles shifts into Crinos form.

Piddles lurches to his rear paws and scrambles up the fire escape.

~No,~ says Elspeth. ~Let's have a wolf's nose go first, *if you
please.*~

Piddles drops back down, looking confused.

Elspeth turns to the remaining Hispo. ~Steven?~ she asks.

Heart-of-Fury looks back at Elspeth and glances upwards, growling his assent,
as he steps onto the clattering fire escape. He moves forward with a slow
lope, ears up, at full attention.

Piddles peers after Heart-of-Fury, still pretty confused and looking unhappy
with not being in the front.

Mark watches for anything else showing up while the first garou start
climbing.

Elspeth waits, and pushes on upwards herself once the scouts have a lead of a
flight or two.

The fire escape clatters unpleasantly and there is an acrid stench of rusted
metal. The darkness writhes around the Garou, but nothing moves to attack
or hinder them. Yet.

Piddles goes up the fire escape whenever he's permitted to.

Mark follows up the fire escape.

Heart-of-Fury continues up the rickety rusty fire escape for about four
stories before he stops abruptly. He lets slip a quiet growl, indicating
through a grimy window. ~The presence is near. Vincent, will you check
through into the Realm. Perhaps we are near the metis.~ He moves out of the
way for the theurge.

Elspeth skips up to the next turn of the fire escape, gun at the ready, and
checks with a quick glance over the edge that everyone else is in position.

Piddles pauses, ears pricked, nose aquiver, lips drawn into a position that
could quickly become a snarl. Ropes of drool begin to loop from his lower
jaw.

Mark waits towards the rear of the group, watching for any friends this
presence might have.

Shea places herself somewhere not quite at the end, but above the drooling
lupe, and watches upward, like the rest, ready to move.

Vincent steps forward and concentrates for a moment before he gives a quick
nod of his head. ~This is the near the spot,~ he says lifting the window.
The frame of the ancient window shudders, resisting, for a second and then
squeaks open slowly, leaving an uncomfortable silence in its wake. A thin
trail of white vapor seems to trail out of the window as he steps back.
Heart-of-Fury looks over at Vincent, briefly and then pushes through the
opening of the window, sniffing at the air again.

~It looks okay, at least in this first room,~ you hear from inside of the
building, the sound carrying out faintly down the fire escape.

Elspeth starts to move back downwards. Curiously, she's not looking where
she's going, but she's straining her eyes and ears, and looks to be staring
straight at the outer wall of the building as she moves.

Mark looks up. "What's wrong?"

Elspeth shakes her head a little. ~All clear. No sign of anyone 'cept us.~

Elspeth says, ~Okay, everyone inside.~

Shea climbs and clambers through the window with the rest of the gang.

Mark climbs inside.

Piddles clambers up quickly.

Vincent steps through to the inside of the room. It's a dilapidated office,
the obligatory green plant browned, wilted and dead. A stack of papers,
non-carbon forms is stacked in a disorganized pile and Heart-of-Fury stand
waiting in the corner. The door to the office leads out into a narrow
hallway, the flourescent overheads buzzing and flickering on and off in a
seemingly random pattern.

~The hallway seems to be clear,~ Heart-of-Fury reports. As he gets the
sentence out of his mouth, a tremendous slam can be heard somewhere down
the hallway. The voice that accompanies it is high pitched and squealing.
It sounds rather upset at someone or something. Finally, a stack of papers
is heard to fall to the ground. The voice snarls and the sound of papers
fluttering about follows.

Mark says, ~At least it was.~

Elspeth barks an order, seeming to know what she's talking about. ~Go. Get us
to where the Metis is, now!~

Piddles grins ferociously, ready to follow the scout instantly.

Shea cautions, ~But quietly.~

Heart-of-Fury pads out into the hallway, shifting in crinos as he moves,
taking a wary posture. The squealing sound intensifies and resolves itself
into rather precise Garou. ~What are you doing here?~ it demands, ~our
office is only open from 6:59am through 7:16am. Any other time requires a
variance order. Do you have one? Well, do you?~ comes the barked echo.
Vincent peers out into the hall at the voice and sticks his head back
inside. ~The room we need is behind the /cloud,/~ he says, waving towards
the hallway. Heart-of-Fury looks stunned from where he stands.

Mark says, ~What is that?~

~Don't stand there like a slack jawed bumpkin, fool! Do you or don't you have
the required paperwork? If not, you're wasting my extremely valuable time,~
the voice says in a high pitched whine.

Piddles looks at the evidently ranking Garou. ~This one can make an admirable
distraction.~

Elspeth moves to the corridor and tries to assess the threat this cloud poses.

Piddles pokes his head into the hallway.

Heart-of-Fury response is a low growl, and step forward. ~I suggest you let
us pass and take care of our business.~ The voice barks out a quick snort,
~You're not going anywhere unless I can see your authorization card and
your I-578 form filled out in triplicate. Here's a pen.~ A pen suddenly
darts through the air at Heart-of-Fury. He moves to the side and it sticks,
quivering, into a wall.

Mark growls. ~This must be the unpleasantness.~

Shea's heavy eyebrows lift. ~Aye, that was unpleasant!~

A large amorphous, ephemeral, shifting cloud of translucent blackness churns
and hovers about 10 feet away from Heart-of-Fury. It doesn't seem to have a
visible mouth, or any kind of visible sensory organs. It billows out and
contracts inwards a few times, something like the way a jelly fish does,
stringy 'tentacles' of the cloud trailing from underneath the far door. It
seems to stand there for a second, looking at the assembled Garou before it
gives a snarl. ~More of you! I /will/ call security if you all don't leave
or move downstairs for proper visitor processing. /None/ of you have badges
on.~ A barage of staplers fly over the edge of cubicle wall, hovering
menacingly, standing poised to hail a volley if needed. ~Go on now. Don't do
anything that would demean youselves.~

Piddles shrugs. ~There is nothing this one can do that would demean him.~ And
launches himself, pointy ends first, at the cloud.

Fixes-with-his-Hands grabs Ellie by the arm to keep her by him as he focusses
his sight on the Realm once more to see what this might be the
representation of. The Philodox stays put, but trains her 9mm on the upper
portion of the coloud, ready to fire.

Shea rumbles, as she squints narrowed-eyed at the cloud, ~Spirit, or flesh?~

Streams of red tape shoot out from the walls, ceilings, and floor to encase
the crinos Gnawer in a sticky plastic cocoon. He seems to be held, somehow,
in mid air by the stuff. ~Now. I said I wouldn't be unpleasant, but you're
standing in the wrong line and none of you have the proper signatures, nor
the accompanying identification forms. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to
leave.~ Several hundred staples seem to gush out of the hovering staplers,
which fall with a thump to the floor as they expire their 'magazine' of
ammunition.

Mark shifts into Crinos form.

Piddles struggles mightily against his adhesive adversary, hoping, perhaps,
that his flying saliva might loosen his bonds a bit.

Shea shifts upward again, as well, if only to deflect some of the barrage of
staples away from softer flesh by covering them with fur. She squints more
intently at the cloud, and uses the spirits' own tongue, hopefully. *If
there's true spirit to you, at all, stop what you are doing.*

The cloud seems to wail a little bit at Shea and it turns reticent, billowing
furiously, pouring itself to sulk in a corner of the hallway. ~Fine,~ it
huffs out, ~there was no need to be cross. I'm just doing my job here, you
know. Just my job. You wait, yes, all of you. I have friends in many
places, I do. I do. You just wait and see. This will come back, mark my
words.~ The voice loses its coherency and it just starts to wail a little
bit. The tape cuts itself from where it is attached and Piddles drops to
the floor with a heavy thud.

Piddles grumbles and slavers with annoyance.

Vincent looks impatient, as he turns towards Elspeth. ~The door,~ he reminds
her, looking down the length of the hallway, the cloud having seemingly
gone to file a report or browbeat a coworker about that calendar he took
home from the office last week.

Mark shrugs as Piddles no longer needs any help and turns to see if the metis
has been found yet.

Elspeth checks over the door, running her eyes round the frame three separate
times.

Elspeth aims her gun at the lock and squeezes off a round.

The report sounds out in the air with a hollow bang and the wood around the
lock splinters, the door pushing inwards. Inside is an executive washroom,
the once white marble tile dingy and smelling strongly of mildew and offal.
A faint squeal can be heard off in the distance as the door swings open.

Piddles yowlps loudly as the cocoon of red tape shreds apart, taking a goodly
portion of his body hair with it. He sits up to examine the long, red
strips of sore and hairless flesh that now mark his formerly admirable pelt.

Elspeth looks to Fixes-with-his-Hands. ~This is the mirror, right?~

Heart-of-Fury looks back at the others and then at Vincent. ~Do you want
anyone to come with you?~ he asks the Walker theurge. Vincent shakes his
head once and then steps into the washroom, peering intently at the mirror.
~This is it. Be back in a minute or two.~ He resumes looking at his
reflection and then flickers, vanishing.

Piddles looks embarrassed by his outburst and sheepishly mutters, mostly to
himself, ~Surprised this one... didn't really hurt...~

Elspeth sighs, looking relieved that this is almost over.

Vincent reappears shortly, followed a little after by a tall form, wrapped in
a mask, even his fingers gloved. He is wearing an orange jumpsuit. He seems
shy and trails behind Vincent cautiously. ~Ready to go?~ he says more than
asks.

Piddles appeears more than ready. He grumps sourly to himself as he glowers
down at the random pattern of fur.

Heart-of-Fury stares at the lanky form, a half-snarl on his face, and he
shifts himself back to hispo, taking the lead out again. ~Come on,~ he says
gruffly, ~I want to get out of here.~

Elspeth ushers the others onwards, bringing up the rear, ready to call again
on the gift just used by Fixes-with-his-Hands to foil the defences of the
building.

Shea trembles briefly, and then her image wavers, muscles, bones, and flesh
twisting, and reforming as she slips into Glabro form.

Mark shifts into Glabro form.

Mark moves back towards the window out of the building.

Piddles shifts into Hispo form.

The group pushes out the window again, down the fire escape; the lead scout
wary for any further encounters -- of which, thankfully, there are none.
Behind, wispy tendrils of fog billow out of the window as Elspeth trails
the group.

Piddles moves rapidly after the departing host of Garou.

Elspeth says, ~Back to the mirror where we started out, people. Unless anyone
wants to hightail it now which is fine by me.~

Erik starts to say something. ~Except you,~ Ellie growls.

The group finally reaches the small mirror. Heart-of-Fury pulls up and looks
back at the others, waiting, apparently to see what they will do.

Elspeth waves the apology aside, as if it wasn't necessary. ~Don't worry
about it. Turned out there wasn't anythin' to worry about till we got
inside anyway. If you're impetchuous, just make sure your packmates know
about it.~

Heart-of-Fury glances about nervously. ~May we reach now?~ he asks quietly,
looking to Vincent and Shea for guidance.

Shea nods, once. ~Blackwatch'll know what happened, at the very least. We owe
you, for your help.~ She nods again, then, to Heart-of-Fury. ~Go on.~

Vincent doesn't answer the galliard, but turns to Elspeth silently.

Heart-of-Fury turns his eyes on the mirror and concentrates for a minute,
finally flickering out of the Umbra and back into the Realm.

Elspeth nods to Vince, simply saying, ~I'll don't let Trouble there sneak off
without someon lookin' after him.~

Shea says, ~I'll take him..~

Fixes-with-his-Hands sketches a salute, and turns to peer at this side's face
of the mirror. Shortly, he's gone.

Piddles follows the two advance scout types back through the mirror.

Thomas sits up so suddenly he almost sprains something, jerking his attention
away from the thick, flexible, onion-skin-leafed book he has been pouring
over.

Heart-of-Fury, Mark, and Vincent reappear back in the room where they left,
the latter two shifting into homid. The hispo form pads over to his clothes
giving them a quick sniff and then he shifts up into homid, pulling on his
things.

Thomas stands up, adjusting his glasses. "Everything...all right?"

Piddles plods over to his clothes, shifting upward to his homid form as he
goes. He pauses for a few moments before donning his human-garb, peeling
the last pieces of red tape off his raw skin.

Steven grunts as he pulls on his shirt. "I think so. Damn kid is ugly. A
freak." He turns away suddenly intent on a button.

Thomas catches sight of Piddles' condition and stares, missing Steven's last
comment. "...Pid?"

Elspeth remains in the Umbra, looking to Shea.

Piddles looks more sour than Thomas has seen him. "Pid knew diden like duck
tape. Now know why."

Thomas looks baffled. "Duct tape? In the Umbra?"

Piddles mutters something to himself, then shrugs to Thomas and says, "Long
story. Needs BigsMacs now to happy up."

Shea nods toward the orange-clad young man. ~If you didn't have plans for
him, that is,~ she continues, with a very crooked grin, and the display of
quite a few teeth, at Elspeth.

Thomas's eyes flicker from Piddles to Steven and back again, after which he
seems to spend a moment swallowing a laugh.

Elspeth says, ~We already got enough babysittin' to do as it is, thanks. I'm
sure you'll be givin' him hell anyways, but if you maybe see he doesn't
come wanderin' around on our turf again...?~

Steven turns back to the human. "What's so funny?" he demands sourly,
stepping over closer. "You just don't understand what we saw is all." He
pauses, thinking for a second. "You drink, friend? I could be persuaded to
tell the story for a pint or two of Guinness."

Thomas blinks. "I'd be happy to buy you a pint or two," he says, avoiding the
issue of his own consumption. "And I think this is a story I'd like to
hear."

Piddles looks back to the people in the room and waves. "Is nice to knowing
all. Pid stays at place for broke folks," he gestures to Thomas, "and be
'round lots. Like to get to know other peoples." Pid hitches up his jeans
by his two remaining belt loops.

Shea nods once more. ~I'm sure he'll be.. busy, for awhile.~ She glances at
the orange boy, then shrugs, and shifts downward, even as she heads for the
mirror spot, and reaches through, Erik preceding her by a moment. In his
dayglo jumpsuit, and the covering over face and hands. Not to mention the
hat.

Thomas glances around as Shea and Erik come through. He spots the latter with
some relief. "Hello again."

Piddles, with that pronouncement made and, as far as he's concerned, his
intentions made crystal clear, nods to Thomas and the rest, tosses a jaunty
little salute at Erik, and departs.

Steven grins at Thomas. "Good." He catches sight of Erik and his brows
furrow. "So," he asks Shea, "what did you decide to do with /him/?"

Elspeth is homid once more even by the time she steps back sideways. Vincent
has shifted down too by now, and once Ellie's through he makes a couple of
apologies and takes off almost immediately.

Shea rakes a hand through her hair, turns to study the covered figure, and
puffs her cheeks out, one hand left to rest atop her head, as she shakes
it. "Not much -to- do with him, hey? Carry him with me back t'the Grotto,
an' keep him there awhile, until this mess is cleaned up. Brian can decide
from there."

Steven shrugs at Shea, giving a short sigh. "Okay." He pauses, after another
breath. "We really should try and find him something not so conspicuous to
wear around. You bring anything Elspeth?"

Elspeth purses her lips. "Shit, no. Didn't expect them to have him in all
*that* gear. I got a couple of blankets in the jeep, which at least aren't
so *bright*..."

[Erik is taken to the Grotto.]