[GNARR] [okay, since it's just us right now... you know the rules *LOL* post and set us up while i make cheat sheets. we're in some poorly lit, trashstrewn, unpleasant street in the projects!]
[Face of Death] It's a little later than usual for evening patrols, but then, The Sentinels are known to leave The Brotherhood at irregular intervals to patrol the city. And for once, there are more than two of them walking the streets together.
This part of the city is ugly, run down. There are cracks in the pavement lined with black sealant that lead to tire eating potholes. Even at this late hour, loud music blares from the occasional upper level window. Shouting can be heard in some places. Scuffles, fights, shady people doing nefarious things.
They're not keeping an eye out for those things, however. Those are for the human law enforcement agencies to respond to. The Sentinels keep alert for worse things than drug dealers and crack whores.
Joey keeps a few feet ahead of the others. She's spoken very little, very rarely in the time since she took her vow of silence, and in that time she's learned a few things. She walks with her hands in the pockets of her coat, her sneakers making very little sound on the pavement as she walks ahead of her brothers.
[Word on the Street] Nate follows the rest of the pack. He had been quiet himself the last day or so, somewhat unusual for the guy that seemed to never shut up. So he didn't really mind that his packsister was silent. He had given her a side bump in greeting, before falling into step.
He was dressed in his usual wear, slightly worn clothes that looked barely fit to keep the cold out. But according to the reaction on his face it didnt.
[GNARR] Which makes three silent Sentinels, moving down the street in rough single file. This area is rough. No one comes out after dark. Even bums know better than to stick around here. The streets are rundown and full of potholes. Brick is faded. Windows boarded over. There are more dead streetlights than lit ones.
Joey leads. Nate trails. That leaves Daniel in the middle, hands in his pockets, walking the streets. They're on their way to meet their Alpha.
And then, rather abruptly, Daniel raises his head. He's frowning. A moment; then he shakes his head silently, dismissing it, and moves on.
They keep walking.
[roll percep+alert with your next post!]
[GNARR] [...vs diff 7, please.]
[Face of Death] Joey does her best to keep her senses alert. It's easier to notice things when you're not running off at the mouth, when you're not asking a hundred questions you likely already know the answer to.
In the front, she doesn't see Daniel lift his head to look around. Joey's dark eyes rove the street, trying to see into the shadows, ears strained for unnatural sounds.
[percept + alert diff 7]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 6, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 7)
[Word on the Street] Nate distracted with his own thoughts, only stops at the last moment when he sees Daniels hand lift. Nate wondered if that was the hand that his packmate had used to beat Izzy. Nate didn't understand any of it, so had figured it was best not to get involved.
He looks around when they stop, trying to sense anything out of the ordinary.
[ Per + Ale diff 7 ]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 7)
[Word on the Street] [ Re-roll for Detail Orientated]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2 (Failure at target 7)
[Hatchet] [per + alert]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 6, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 7)
[Sorrow] she who offers sorrow is not a Sentinel. She is not walking single-file with her packmates. She is not going to meet her Alpha. She has neither: packmates nor Alpha. She has a Jarl, and a few passing acquaintances in the city of Chicago. She has a long black wool coat, now. She has one fewer notebook, and a photograph of a street in Barcelona in her back pocket, folded in two, and then two again. She has blonde hair - long - except for the last six inches or so, which are a fading black from a several-year-old dye job she has never cut entirely off. The Fenrir woman stands at the edge of an empty lot on a barren street - weedy with overgrowth and glinting with discarded glass pipes, broken syringes, empty 40 ounce bottles of the cheapest malt liquor. Empty, seemingly.
There's something about seemings.
[Sorrow] Per (observant) + Alertness
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 4, 4, 5, 6, 9 (Success x 1 at target 7)
[GNARR] Well, if nothing else, Sorrow at least sees the Sentinels across the street!
to Sorrow
[GNARR] Joey and Nate can see Sorrow in the empty lot across the street. They can also see their Alpha about a block away, and Hatchet can, of course, see them.
In addition, they're aware of a distant keening, a wailing and sobbing. It's a human voice, and to say it sounds frightened and in pain would be a great understatement.
They only hear it when the wind blows right, though. Of the pack, Nate is most certain of which direction it comes from.
to Face of Death, Hatchet, Word on the Street
[Hatchet] Usually their patrols are in two-Garou groups. Joey is given the heaviest burden, the most nudges from the Alpha to go out and search the penumbra, search the blocks surrounding the Brotherhood, looking for signs of taint or corruption, danger, threat. Hatchet makes unapologetic demands of her in this area. She doesn't argue. Lately, she can't.
Granted, this vow of silence of hers is neither punishment nor ritual. It is about self-discipline. The only thing keeping Joey from speaking up is... Joey.
They rarely go alone, though, the Sentinels. Hatchet does, sometimes, but Hatchet is often doing two or three other things on top of patrolling. He's checking on Eugenie Terrace, which is just outside of the usual bounds they patrol in. He's studying at the library in between rounds, reading anything that might help him with... well, any number of problems he's considering. They all know he prefers if they stick together, two or three together at any time.
Tonight, the only one of them missing is Echo, and she's probably flying. Or sleeping after a long day of flying. When Hatchet nudged them across the totemlink, he didn't insist on her presence. He didn't 'insist' on anyone's, really.
He's sitting on a bench, a very ugly metal bench stained by the minerals left by snow that's melted off, rusting at the joints. He's sprawled, hands in his pockets and back slouched, knees apart, booted feet planted, and the hood of his jacket is up, the zipper at his throat. He hasn't been looking at any particular thing, except: he's starting to look at the coated figure in the empty lot, and he's starting to tip his head to the side, as though listening to something.
Almost lazily, seeing -- and feeling -- the nearness of his pack, he drags himself to his feet. The lankiness of the motion does not entirely conceal the inherent grace of it, the way he so easily rises and unfolds himself, back straightening and shoulders revealing their broadness. His hands stay in his hoodie's pocket.
[Hatchet] There's a wailing. Where's it coming from?
Because if they don't know already, they're damn well gonna help him figure it out.
to Face of Death, GNARR, Word on the Street
[Face of Death] Joey sees Hatchet up ahead, and the Fenrir who looks so much like a certain kinswoman across the street. It's when she has her head turned to the side that she hears the wailing, just a moment before Hatchet questions them over the totem link. The Rotagar stops, glances back at her brothers first to see if either of them can discern a direction.
[GNARR] Daniel is not looking in the direction of the wailing; he's looking across the street at his tribesmate in the empty lot. If she looks his way, he raises a hand in greeting, dour as ever. People are starting to call him that. Dour Dan. He doesn't know, of course. Probably wouldn't mind. Better than Rabid Dan, which he also is.
Word from his Alpha across the totemlink. The Forseti looks away, frowning as his eyes search the streets.
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6) Re-rolls: 5
[GNARR] I can lead us there. Are we going to investigate?
to Face of Death, Hatchet, Sorrow, Word on the Street
[Hatchet] You bet your ass we are. A mental nod in a different direction. Invite She Who Offers Sorrow along. I'll head your way.
to Face of Death, GNARR, Word on the Street
[Sorrow] Kora turns; the wailing that the others have heard isn't within her ken - but she sees them, walking like a pack across the street, a line of human-skinned Garou in the darkness. Her chin rises as she sees them, and then she unearths her right hand from the depths of her pockets to return her tribesmate's wave. After a moment's consideration, the Skald ducks between two parked cars - one burned out, and never towed - crossing the street toward the other Garou.
[Hatchet] After a few moments of silence, his head tipped, Buried Hatchet starts to walk down the street towards his packmates.
[Word on the Street] Nate is looking in the direction of the wailing , though he acknowledges his Alpha when his presence touches his mind. The totem bound between them strong , as the distance between them draws closer.
[Word on the Street] Alpha, the wailing is coming from that direction lifting his hand as he points towards it.
to Face of Death, GNARR, Hatchet
[GNARR] They seem to be expecting her, these other Garou. As their Alpha joins them, the Forseti of the group turns to Kora.
"Come."
That's all she gets. All any of them get, for that matter. Daniel moves into the lead. He pushes the hood of his inner hoodie down, the better to see by. Without preamble, the wolf-lean Forseti drops into a steady, ground-eating jog.
He does not take the easiest path, the broad thoroughfares and the streets. Apparently unaffected by the filth, the Forseti leads them through dank alleys crowded with garbage and rot. Apparently unmindful of the physical strain, he leads them up fire escapes and emergency ladders, across rooftops thick with snow. He takes the most direct path, and before long even Sorrow can hear what it is the Sentinels seek:
the source of a long, piteous keening; a human voice in distress beyond words.
They are very near when Daniel stops at the base of a fire escape. He nods up at the roof.
"It's up there, Alpha."
[GNARR] (don't mind me.)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 4, 4, 7, 10 (Success x 1 at target 7)
[Hatchet] When Hatchet nears the others -- Skald, Forseti, Rotagar, and Galliard -- he takes his hands out of his pockets and gives a nod to Kora, taking his hood down from his head as well. It isn't to keep from seeming like he's hiding something; it's to listen. And listen he does, even as he's giving marching orders in his mind to his packmates.
Nate, stay near Sorrow. Joey, to the rear. Daniel doesn't need to be told: he's up ahead, tracking, and Hatchet is several paces behind him, determining and maintaining the distance between scout and the group, keeping his brother in his sights.
When Daniel stops at the fire escape, Hatchet lengthens his stride, catching up in a few steps, bringing the rest of them with him. He tilts his head back and frowns. A few thoughts flicker through his thoughts, his private ones, and then he turns his head, finds Joey's eyes, and jerks his head at the fire escape. Apparently she is going to climb first.
[GNARR] (or me!)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 5, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Hatchet] [*totally minds*]
[Face of Death] [dex + stealth]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[GNARR] (ahem)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 6, 6, 6, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[GNARR] Quietly, the packmates help Joey lower the last leg of the fire escape ladder. Quietly, the Ragabash moves up the three stories of rusted metal, her feet sure and soft on dusty grey snow.
Even so, as she nears the rooftop, the keening abruptly ceases.
[Sorrow] This is familiar, then: running in a pack, even if the pack is not her own and the form is wrong and the streets are not the high tablelands where she was fostered - she is running, and soon enough she knows why. Here's the thing: the Fenrir woman is silent. She takes her cues from the subtleties of their body language, the way pack translates for Garou even in little human tells. They fall into place - the Forseti leading, and then the Alpha arriving behind. She is silent, her face still, her head canted toward the high keening rising on the wind, watching the Rotagar make her silent way up the fire escape.
[Hatchet] Hatchet is the second up the ladder, following behind Joey as quietly as he can, as well. He's several rungs below her, however, when the keening stops.
[Hatchet] [dex + stealth]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Face of Death] Joey lets the others file ahead of her, and brings up the rear of their group. She keeps up with the pace easily, keeps alert of their surroundings. They weave through the alleys and dark passages, a pack (mostly) running in the night. Hunting.
The Rotagar, not nearly as good a tracker as her Forseti brother, clambers silently up the fire escape. She does her very best to call on old training, old instincts she let fall by the wayside over the years. She goes as quietly as she can.
And yet before she reaches the top, the keening stops. And so Joey stops as well, holding still as she listens intently. Slowly, she lifts her dark-capped head and peers up onto the roof.
[GNARR] The voice they heard was unmistakably human.
What Joey finds staring back at her across the rooftop, however, is not human. It is a wolf, large and healthy, fur dark and thick with winter. It stands with forelegs braced wide, head at shoulder level. It stares intently back at Joey.
It is pureblooded. Its purity of blood is so rare this deep in the city that it is almost unthinkable.
It is a Red Talon.
[Face of Death] Joey doesn't dare take her eyes away. She doesn't signal to her packmates. They hear her voice across the totem link for the first time in more than a week.
Oh my fucking god it's a Red Talon.
to GNARR, Hatchet, Word on the Street
[GNARR]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 5)
to Face of Death
[Word on the Street] Nate furrows his brow as he continues to climb "What on earth is a Red Talon doing here, this far into the city ?" he says aloud for the benefit of Sorrow who is either just above him or following behind.
[GNARR] (That was Beast Mind. For the next two turns, Joey's mental state and intellect are reduced to those of a beast. She will not be able to communicate what's happened to her to her packmates, so don't tell them OOC.)
to Face of Death
[Word on the Street] ((ignore that post please ))
[GNARR] When Hatchet is on the first landing of the fire escape, Daniel follows. When Joey's mindvoice comes across the link, the Forseti blows a breath in disbelief.
[Word on the Street] (( Okay everything but the continuing to climb stands ))
[Hatchet] Hatchet's next words are not restrained to the pack. Out loud, to Joey above him and Daniel below him and Nate and Kora on the ground: "Everybody up." And he begins climbing again, no longer bothering to keep silence.
[Sorrow] Sorrow climbs the fire escape in the Daniel's wake, her long fingers curled around the rusting iron. Flakes and filings - blood red and rust - shake free, raining down onto the street in their wake, dislodged with every step. The Forseti blows out a quiet breath above her, and then Nate clarifies. She herself gives a short, disbelieving huff, then, and tips her head back, looking up at the sullen orange glow that caps the city, always.
[Word on the Street] Nate waits for Sorrow and Hatchet to start climbing, and then he follows suit. Pushing upwards to bear witness to this Red Talon...it was going to make a hell of a story.
[GNARR] As their eyes lock, something...
changes in Joey's mind. It's like a vast pit abruptly yawns open in the center of her skull. All her wit and foresight, her conscience, her sense of morality and her sense of sacrifice, her judgment, her grasp future-present-past, slides into darkness.
Language is gone. Intellect is gone. All that remains is instinct. Fight and flight. She can't even convey to her packmates what has happened.
to Face of Death
[Face of Death] Like a faithful, obedient hound, Joey climbs up onto the roof at Hatchet's command. She stands with shoulders back, body tensed, wary, chin dropped and eyes on the lupus before them. If she were in another form, one with four legs instead of two, her ears would be erect, her tail straight but low behind her. She stands to the side, giving room for the others.
She continues to watch the wolf, a low growl issuing from the back of her human throat, warning. Or challenge, for the strange wolf in her city.
[Hatchet] A few moments later, Hatchet pulls himself up and over the ledge and onto the roof, moving into a crouch so his eyes are more or less level with the Talon's. It lowers his height but doesn't compact or conceal his size: his shoulders are straight still, his back slightly curved, his eyes intent. Joey issues the beginnings of a growl; Hatchet takes on a stance midway between dominance and respect, awaiting his pack -- and Kora -- at his back.
[GNARR] Now is when wolves would, through posture and perhaps a lunge or a snap or two, settle quickly and relatively bloodlessly whose territory this is. Who stands dominant. A single wolf faced with many allied wolves would likely turn away, ceding claim without much in the way of resistance.
A werewolf, no matter how feral, may stay to introduce himself, may announce his business before departing.
The Red Talon, however, does not show any sign of faltering. Or of respect. His head rises as the Alpha of the Sentinels shows himself. He holds himself erect, braced; there is almost arrogance in his dominance. His posture marks him as a wolf of Hatchet's rank.
Another of the Sentinels rises to the rooftop. Then another. And last, the lone wolf, Kora.
The Red Talon's eyes track between them. His ears swivel, alert. He locks eyes with the Skald for a second; then, without attempting any communication with the Sentinels and their ally, tips back his muzzle and howls.
The Garou of Chicago can feel the Gauntlet pushing, stretching, shredding.
[GNARR]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 5, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
to Sorrow
[GNARR] As their eyes lock, something...
changes in Kora's mind. It's like a vast pit abruptly yawns open in the center of her skull. All her wit and foresight, her conscience, her sense of morality and her sense of sacrifice, her judgment, her grasp future-present-past, slides into darkness.
Language is gone. Intellect is gone. All that remains is instinct. Fight and flight. She can't even convey to her allies what has happened.
[Kora is afflicted with Beast Mind for 2 turns. Ping me if you have questions. Don't tell the others OOC!]
to Sorrow
[Hatchet] [int + pu]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 6, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[GNARR] It's definitely some sort of summons -- a "Hey, come here!"
to Hatchet
[Hatchet] A low snarl issues from Hatchet's throat as the Red Talon sends out that howl, but it isn't a threat. Not just yet. He knows this territory isn't claimed by any pack. He knows that there's no Fostern Talon known to Maelstrom. He knows the presence of a Red Talon in the city like this at all is really fucking weird. He has no idea, however, who this particular Talon is calling.
The Sentinels and Kora have no words from Buried Hatchet then. There is only the Fostern Philodox shifting into hispo, flowing through forms until he reaches that large, hulking one meant for war -- or for dominating a wolf who refuses to so much as speak his name. He shifts, and continues that low, warning, wary snarl even as his silvery-gray eyes turn golden under the full moon.
[Hatchet] He's calling to someone. Something. Be ready; I don't like this.
to Face of Death, GNARR, Word on the Street
[Sorrow] The Fenrir woman meets the Red Talon's eyes, and her lips peel back from her mouth in a very real snarl - vocalized low in her throat, emitted as surely as if she were in one of the fur-skinned forms. She snaps her teeth at the at the talon, and stalks toward the beast. Hatchet's snarl is not a threat - but the strange Fenrir's snarl clearly is. Like the Alpha of the Sentinels, the Fenrir surges into hispo as she stalks forward, her face a rictus of threat. The wool coat she wears is not dedicated - it stretches at the seams and is then ripped apart at the back and side seams, down the long seems of the sleeves - before she hits the ground in her direwolf form - grey furred and massive.
The great beast snaps indiscriminately at Buried Hatchet and the Red Talon, her ruff bristling to make her massive form seem larger, beads of slaver dripping from her great jaws as she stalks forward.
[Face of Death] This strange wolf does not belong here in the city. His kind shun the human cities with their towers of iron and steel and glass, their pollution and corruption.
Hatchet arrives, alpha of pack, brother but leader. He moves ahead slightly, crouches down to be more on a level with the Red Talon, taking on a position of something like respect and dominance. Joey's growl stops and she defers to the alpha male, but she is no less poised for attack, to leap ahead and attack.
Aside from that growl, Joey hasn't communicated since her startled exclamation across her pack's minds. But that's to be expected. Until the next new moon, Joey is to remain completely silent.
And then it howls, and something begins to push through the Gauntlet, shredding it. Joey drops into a crouch, as well, except as she lowers her body, her figure grows. The growl begins anew, is carried through Glabro, Crinos. In Hispo she stops, hackles raised, ears back, black lips peeled from deadly fangs. She snarls and snaps, slaver arcing out onto the rooftop. Her pink tongue darts out, licking across the roof of her mouth. For a moment, she's like a dog on a tight leash, straining at the end of a chain.
Except there is no chain. Nothing is there to physially restrain the Rotagar. Hatchet growls warning to the Talon, doesn't like this. Joey's claws scratch and scrabble on stone.
And then she's off, snarling at a higher ranked Garou.
[GNARR] The lupusborn have spiritual might far superior to those born of man. It should be no surprise, then, that those who cross the Gauntlet now do so instantaneously.
From one side, Sorrow stalks forward. From the other, Face of Death.
Before they've moved a single pace, air displaces. A quick transient breeze on their faces. Three other wolves simply appear. Two dappled, one reddish-brown. Two male, and a single female. They come alongside the first, moving easily, powerfully under the full moon. The air breathes with their strength and power. The last of them is larger than the rest, and from the way he stands, is the alpha of the pack.
They are all Red Talons. Their tails move side to side, menacingly.
--
Beside his Alpha, Broken Hammer immediately takes the same shift, hitting the ground on four massive paws. His growl is half threat, half anxiety, swerving into startled rebuke as his pack-sister charges forward without warning.
--
Meanwhile, the four Red Talons grow to meet Joey and Kora, Hispo-formed themselves now, three flanking the fourth, moving boldly forward to meet what looks more and more like an onslaught.
The Alpha shows his teeth.
"Tainted Scab-wolves," he snarls. "You've forgotten who you are."
[GNARR] (Maintain beastmind!)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 5)
to Face of Death
[Hatchet] Down and back! Hatchet might have said to both Kora and Joey, snarling and jaw-snapping at the Red Talons, but he does not echo Daniel's startled, nonverbal rebuke. The Alpha of the Talon pack bares his teeth and Hatchet's fur begins to stand on end. He growls right back, stepping in front of the Cliaths that have come with him:
"You've forgotten who your enemy is. We are pledged to the Caern here, we protect it. This place is the territory of the wolves of Maelstrom. You will name yourself."
[Sorrow] Sorrow's lupine lips peel back from her maw in response. The cindered roof crunches beneath her massive paws and her great head swings as she plants her front paws wide and firm - the low growl that started when she stood in homid continues now, building slowly like the roar of an approaching jet engine. The strangers - all strangers - are included in the sweep of her head as the growl builds itself into a sharp bark of wordless warning.
[Face of Death] Hatchet barks a command, and Joey pulls herself up short, claws scrabbling once again as she struggles to arrest her forward momentum. When she's still, her head is down, forelegs braced. Slaver drips from her exposed fangs to pool on the pavement beneath her jaws. Like She Who Offers Sorrow, Joey swings her massive head, directing that feral growl to the Talons.
And to Kora, how growls warning to all of them, including the Sentinels. Joey's packmates, her brothers. She stalks across the distance this time, circling behind Hatchet to stand between the Skald and the pack, head lowered. She keeps her attention to the Talon pack, who are the greater threat. But she is aware of Kora, always.
[GNARR] "Caern," sneers the Alpha. "A piss-hole amidst Wyrm-rubble. Submit and begone, Urrah! We are here by our Mother's true will!"
The rest of the wolves say nothing. The dark one, the first they met, snarls to keep Sorrow at bay. The female flanks her alpha in silence. The last, the red-brown one, lolls his tongue out. There's blood on his teeth.
[GNARR] (dark one: maintaining Beast mind!)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
to Sorrow
[Face of Death] [dlp!]
[Face of Death] Joey doesn't pause at Daniel's rebuke. He is not alpha, and their pack has no omega. Broken Hammer is brother only, equal. She doesn't answer to him.
She darts ahead, and stops when Hatchet moves, still snarling, slaver dripping from vicious fangs onto the pavement beneath her jaws. Her forelegs are braced wide, her head lowered. It doesn't matter that they are bigger than she, that among them are wolves of higher rank. They don't belong here. This area may not belong to any particular pack, but it is under the protection of the wolves of Maelstrom.
The alpha of the Talons sneers at them, speaks insults. Joey snarls and barks once, snapping her jaws with a sharp clack!
[Hatchet] Daniel, keep an eye on Sorrow. I'm not sure she can tell friend from foe right now. You're her tribesmate; maybe she'll listen to you.
There's a flicker of something else, hard to define, as Joey snaps her jaws and slavers at the Talons, ignoring Daniel's bark. It's gone. The Talons are speaking. And they have his attention.
to Face of Death, GNARR, Word on the Street
[Hatchet] Outwardly it will seem like Hatchet simply lost his shit. Outwardly, it will seem like when he opens his maw and roars at the pack of Red Talons it is because he has lost all control at their words, they have taunted him and his kind too far. His rage is a powerful, pulsing thing, a twisting aura around him that seems to sear the very air. When he lunges, right for the Alpha, it will seem on the surface that the Philodox with more bloodthirsty fury in his veins than some full moons has just been pushed to the edge.
His packmates know that is not the case, if only because they can hear him in their minds, issuing orders to complement the ones he gives aloud. The fact that he can snarl both even as he's darting forward, preparing for battle in an instant, says something about the multiple levels his brain works on, the capacity he has for extraordinarily complex thought.
The fact that his eyes gleam and his rage spikes says something about the capacity he has for sheer, unadulterated brutality.
"Sorrow! Fight with me!" Follow. Submit. Or:
Kill the fucker.
[Hatchet] Joey, get behind the Alpha if you can. Everyone focus on him first. Heal each other as needed; I have talens if necessary.
to Face of Death, GNARR, Word on the Street
[Face of Death] Most of his packmates know that Hatchet is still in control.
Before Hatchet can issue a final order, Joey is already off, the fury of her alpha signal enough for the attack. She charges forward with a snarling roar. She aims for the alpha because he is the biggest. She doesn't try to get behind, however. Joey's snapping jaws are aimed for his throat.
[Sorrow] Hatchet throws himself toward the Alpha of the Red Talons. There's no indication whatsoever that the Fenrir Skald heard or understood his snarl - but air is saturated with the tension of incipient violence - she who offers sorrow charges straight toward the dark-furred Red Talon they first discovered on the rooftop, her claws sending a show of cinders and broken glass spraying behind her as she runs.
[GNARR] Instantly, the Red Talons react. The Alpha, the only one of them to have spoken at all, speaks no more. His order to attack comes in body and bark: the former lunging forward, all muscle and rage; the latter a short, sharp, coughing thing, vicious and bloodthirsty.
Joey does not move to flank. But the Talons do, spreading distance amongst one another to try to encircle the Garou of Maelstrom.
[Inits!
Just a reminder: declare within 3 min. You may post short IC blurbs if you want as we roll, but try not to hold things up!]
[Face of Death] [+9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5
[Hatchet] [+9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2
[Sorrow] 8
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1
[GNARR] Daniel +9
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Hatchet] Nate +8
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[GNARR] Alpha +20
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5 (Failure at target 6)
[GNARR] Dusky +9
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[GNARR] Princess +8
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[GNARR] Red +8
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[GNARR] [alpha 25
nate 18
dusky 17
dan 16
princess + red 16
joey 14
hatchet 11
sorrow 9
declare in reverse!]
[Sorrow] [Sorrow: 2 rage. 1. CHOMP DUSKY; 2. CHOMP DUSKY; 3. CHOMP DUSKY!]
[Hatchet] [Reflexive: Totemphone: Laughs in the Face of Death, that was NOT a [fucking] suggestion!
Reflexive: -1WP for Resist Pain
1a.
1b.
R1.
R2. ... all bites on Alpha]
[Face of Death] [Bite Alpha!
R1: Bite Alpha!
R2: Bite Alpha!]
[GNARR] Princess
1. 1Gn - Mother's Touch - held until someone needs it!
Red
1. Something evil on Hatchet
R1. Get behind Sorrow
R2. Bite Sorrow!
Daniel
1a. Get behind Alpha!
b. Bite!
R1. Bite!
R2. Bite!
[GNARR] Dusky
WP - Resist Pain!
1. Bite Daniel!
R1. Bite Sorrow!
R2. Bite Daniel!
[GNARR] [resist pain on daniel too]
[Hatchet] Nate
[...I'm going to say Nate shifted to hispo with the others, since I rolled his init as such *facepalm* Whoops.
1a. Mother's Touch - held]
[GNARR] Alpha
1. KILL THE PRIEST. Bite Nate!
R1. Spur Claws on Hatchet!
R2. Bite Nate!
R2. Bite Hatchet!
[GNARR] [resist pain on Alpha too! *forgot*]
1. Chomp Nate!
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 4, 4, 4, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 5)
[GNARR] Damage on Nate! +2
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[cricket] Nate Soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 6, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[GNARR] [Dusky]
1. Chomp on Dan!
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 8 (Success x 3 at target 5)
[GNARR] Dam +2!
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 3, 7, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[GNARR] Dan: OW?
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[GNARR] [Princess: held]
[Red: EEEBIL.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 6, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[cricket] [MT on Daniel, Medicine + Intel + Bear]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 3)
[GNARR] That was Primal Instinct, rabid Red Talon version. The normal version is permanent but only affects humans; I'm going to say this affects Hatchet until the new moon. It's in the book, but in a nutshell: 4 succ will make Hatchet intensely feral. While it won't reduce his mind to that of an animal -- he'll still have his intelligence -- it will exacerbate all his most primitive instincts.
to Hatchet
[GNARR] [Daniel! Sorry!
1a. move!
b. bite from behind, -3!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 3) Re-rolls: 1
[GNARR] +3!
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 8 at target 6)
[GNARR] (soak!)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [Bite Alpha!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 5)
[Face of Death] [damage: str + 3 (Hispo) + 1 (Bear) + 2 + 4]
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[GNARR] [noooo i want to liiiive!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 6, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[GNARR] In a single vicious bite, the dark Talon nearly eviscerates Broken Hammer. His packmate is there instantly, though, pressing healing claws to his fur. The Forseti retaliates brutally; his silent packmate finishes the job.
The mighty Alpha of the Talons goes down before his packmate can think to heal him. The female and the dark Talon draw closer together defensively, whining. The red one, however, snaps and snarls, his intellect instantly caving in to frenzy.
[Red: FRENZY! YOU KILLED MY ALPHA!]
[Hatchet] [1a. Kill the White Mage: Biting Princess
dex + hispo + brawl -2 (split) // diff +1 (changing targets)]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 4, 6, 8, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Hatchet] [straight damage!]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 5, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[GNARR] Princess: soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 6, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Hatchet] [1b. ...Biting Princess
dex + hispo + brawl -3 (split) // diff +1 (changing targets)]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6) [WP] Re-rolls: 1
[GNARR] [Dusky: block!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 3, 5, 6, 9, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[Hatchet] [damage! str + bear + hispo + hispo bite + 1]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 3, 4, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[GNARR] [ack, soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Sorrow] [chomp dusky!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 4, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 5)
[Sorrow] [Damage: str + hispo + + 1+ 6]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[GNARR] (soak!)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 7, 7 (Failure at target 6)
[GNARR] [Alpha: dead]
[Nate: done]
[Dusky: R1 was spent blocking.]
[Daniel: switch R1 to Princess, bite!]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 5, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6) Re-rolls: 3
[GNARR] +6!
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 3, 3, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[GNARR] [princess soaks!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 5, 6, 6, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Hatchet] [Reflexive: Totemphone: Kill their healer! As if they needed to be told. In Daniel's case, clearly not.]
[GNARR] [Princess: holding heal, may switch to dodge]
[Red: moving behind Sorrow!]
[GNARR] [Whoops - Red is Frenzied. Redeclare: chomp Joey!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 6, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[GNARR] +4!
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [sooooak pleeeeeze!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 6, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [R1: Bite Red! - 1 (ow, you fucker!)]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 5, 7, 7, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [damage: + 4]
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 8, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[GNARR] (Augh!)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5 (Botch x 1 at target 6)
[Hatchet] [R1. bite princess!]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[GNARR] The frenzied Red Talon tears into Laughs in the Face of Death, but she's made of sterner stuff than that. In a single catastrophic bite, she brings the Talon down.
His packmate moves to heal...
[Princess: Heal!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 5 at target 4)
[GNARR] [Princess soaks!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Hatchet] [damage]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Sorrow] [R1: Chomp Dusky!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 7, 7, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 5)
[GNARR] [Dusky soaks!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 6, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Sorrow] [damage]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 5, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[GNARR] [Dusky: R2, chomp Dan!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 6, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 5)
[GNARR] +4!
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[GNARR] [Dan Soaks!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 5, 8 (Failure at target 6)
[GNARR] It's not Broken Hammer's day.
The dark Talon tears viciously into him. When he wrenches away, a spurting arc of blood splashes everyone within a ten-foot radius. Broken Hammer staggers a single step, dazed, and then drops on his side.
[GNARR] [Princess: done]
[Red: R2, bite Sorrow!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 5, 7, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 5 at target 5)
[GNARR] Damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[Sorrow] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [R2: Bite Red! -1]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 9 (Failure at target 6)
[Hatchet] [R2. bite princess again!]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 4, 6, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6) Re-rolls: 3
[Hatchet] [damage!]
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 6, 8, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[GNARR] (nooo i want to liiiive!)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 (Failure at target 6)
[GNARR] Another of the Talons goes down. All that remains is the dark one, grievously injured, and the ruddy one, mad.
[Sorrow] [R2: CHOMP DUSKY -1 wound penalty]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 6, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 5)
[GNARR] (Dusky soaks!)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Sorrow] [Damage!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 5, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[GNARR] The balance of power has shifted.
The Talons were Fosterns. Every last one of them. They were a unified pack, strong and arrogant. Yet in a matter of seconds, the rather ill-organized flock of Cliaths led by a single Fostern has carved them up. Their Alpha is dead. Their healer. Their Galliard is frenzied, snapping wildly.
The last one, the dark wolf, has his tail between his legs. In another instant, he makes up his mind -- turns on his haunches to flee.
[Sumup:
Alpha - dead
Princess - dead
Dusky - 5Agg
Red - 2Agg, Frenzied
Daniel - Incap
Nate - 2A
Joey - 3A
Sorrow - 2A
Hatchet - OK
Action order:
Nate
Dusky
Red
Joey
Hatchet
Sorrow]
[Sorrow] [2 Rage. 1. Chase dusky. 2. CHOMP. 3. CHOMP.]
[Hatchet] [Reflexive: Lift leg, release piss onto Princess's corpse. Bark and howl encouragement to Sorrow for harrying Dusky and killing his ass.
1a. MT on Daniel
1b. Bite Red]
[Face of Death] Joey shakes her head, sending sprays of red everywhere. Her incessant growling, the near frenzied snapping of her jaws ceases. Clarity returns to her dark eyes, and she takes a moment to take stock of the situation. She's injured, her fur soaked with her own blood and that of her foes. Nate and Kora are hurt. Daniel is on the ground. With a conscious effort, Joey draws on a Gift to ignore the pain.
[1WP activate Resist Pain
1a: Get behind Red
1b: CHOMPIT! + WP]
[GNARR] [Dusky:
1. Run!
R1. Counterchomp!
R2. Counterchomp! LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE.
Red:
1. Bite Daniel
R1. Bite Joey
R2. Bite Daniel
R3. Bite Joey!]
[Hatchet] [Changing 1a to Block for Daniel]
[Word on the Street] [ 1a Bite Red
1b Bite Red
1R Bite Red
2R Bite Red
]
[Word on the Street] [ 1a Bite Red - 5d5 ]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 5)
[Word on the Street] [ DMG - 7d6]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Word on the Street] [ More Dice 2d6]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 5, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[GNARR] (soak!)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 5, 5, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Word on the Street] [1 more ]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3 (Failure at target 6)
[Word on the Street] [ 1b Bite Red - 4d5]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 4, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 5)
[Word on the Street] [DMG - 9d6]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[GNARR] (ack! soak!)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 5, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[GNARR] [Dusky: Runs!]
[Red: Bite Dan!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 5, 5, 7, 8 (Success x 3 at target 5)
[Face of Death] [1a: block for Dan!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 6, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [1b: Bitin': - 3 + WP]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 5, 7, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 5) [WP]
[Face of Death] [damage: + 5]
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[GNARR] [Red: NOOO I WANT TO LIIIIVE!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Hatchet] [1a. MAH BRUDDER AH HEALZ J00. IT BE OTAY NOW.
Int + Med + Bear, -1 G. Dropping second split.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 10 (Success x 4 at target 3) [WP]
[Sorrow] [CHASES DUSKY]
[GNARR] [DUSKY RUNS.]
[GNARR] [Whoops. DUSKY BITES. STOP FOLLOWING ME!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 4, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 5)
[GNARR] dam+2!
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 2, 5, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Sorrow] SOAK
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 5, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Sorrow] [BITE DUSKY]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 6, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 5)
[Sorrow] DAMAGE
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[GNARR] (nooo i want to liiive!)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 7, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[GNARR] The Sentinels are a strange lot.
Nearly every last one of them has some darkness in their history. Some darkness, one might argue, in their soul. At least two of them are feral and savage; another two are sometimes so blithe and careless that one wonders if they care at all. They're vicious in battle. Most of them have probably been called honorless or unwise at one point or another. Many of them may indeed, to some degree, deserve these epithets.
And yet: they are healers. And yet: they are protectors. And they are, most definitely, a pack.
The frenzied Talon never manages to so much as nick the Forseti that brutalized his Alpha. One Sentinel tears a gash into him. Another blocks his attack, turns it back so viciously that he reels, and then tears his throat out.
Their Alpha heals Broken Hammer, then. The Forseti's eyes flick open. He springs to his feet, somewhere between hyperalert and dazed, and...
...realizes the last of the enemy is down. Some thirty, forty yards away, at the very edge of the roof, the lone Skald, She Who Offers Sorrow, has sunk her teeth into escaping prey and brought him down.
[GNARR] [Final damage tally:
Nate 2A
Dan 3A
Joey 3A
Sorrow 4A!]
[Hatchet] Something has happened to their Alpha.
He's not human. He rarely seems human. He doesn't spend time around humans because then he'd have to at least pretend to be like them, pretend to be tolerable to them, and it's a lot of effort that isn't worth it -- to him -- to expend. His packmates have seen him utterly brutal in battle. A certain Uktena Ahroun could tell stories, if she ever bothered to talk to anyone, about things she's seen him do, about the time he literally clawed his way out of the belly of a sea monster. Or the time he literally tore out a Spiral's heart and roared in its face as he dug his claws in.
Hatchet is far, far from human. Compassionate. Kind. He doesn't have the warmth of a healer, or the gentleness of a father. Yet: they know he cares. The way he bumps against them sometimes, the way everything they do seems to matter to him, the way he comes to Room 8 sometimes and simply curls up near the door or the center of the room, making sure they are sleeping soundly and safely. When he heals Daniel, a rush of what feels like forgiveness and smells like water hits the Fenrir, washing through him in a moment that will not change or touch the guilt in his soul.
It passes away, along with the pain it takes.
Daniel doesn't see what the others do: Hatchet lifting his left after slaughtering the female Talon and urinating on her corpse. He's never done anything like that before, not that they've seen. He looks strange as he swivels his head left and right, catching sight of Sorrow but ignoring her for now, though he snarls in her direction. He turns to his packmates, seething with spent rage, barely restrained by his control and his burning intelligence.
Hatchet stalks towards Laughs in the Face of Death and, without the eye-rolling, mouth-foaming insanity of frenzy
calmly lunges for her throat.
[Face of Death] Joey acts without thinking most of the time. There's a difference between the way the Rotagar thoughtlessly acted from the moment she peered over the rooftop and stared into the face of a Red Talon, and the way she thoughtlessly acted at the end of the battle.
Before, she acted on instincts alone, to fight, to defend territory. She bowed to the dominance of her alpha and no other. But, when clarity returned, and an enemy charged her fallen brother, Joey was quick to intercept, quick to tear out her enemy's throat.
She stands stock still for a moment, her mind reeling with what she's done. Her forelegs are splayed, not in a posture of threat, but to maintain her balance. She remembers everything. She remembers snarling and charging a pack of motherfucking Fosterns. She remembers ignoring Broken Hammer. Most importantly, Joey remembers disregarding Hatchet's direct and explicit orders.
She turns to face her alpha, who is coming for her throat. She doesn't duck or dodge, doesn't fight back.
[Sorrow] she who offers sorrow skids to a staggered halt at the edge of the roof, blood in her mouth. She takes a great heaving breath and a full body shake as her mind clears at last. She is standing on a cindered rooftop of a decrepit building, the stink of garbage and human urine waft up from the alley below, undercurrent to the blood in her mouth, steaming as it hits the frigid air. The moon above her is full; she feels that the way a sea feels the moon - thoughtless, tidal, and sure. Her body is rigid, her tail low with tension, pale eyes glinting in the moonlight as she stands over the downed Red Talon and watches the Hatchet throat Laughs in the Face of Death.
[GNARR] (percep+PU!)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
to Hatchet
[GNARR] Broken Hammer is an introverted, glum creature, but in the end he is also a creature of feral intellect and rage. When his Alpha lunges at his packmate, he's instantly razor-alert. He looks, he sees, he makes a decision on a split second and
sits on his haunches, bearing silent witness.
[Hatchet] [biting joey]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 3, 4, 6, 6, 6, 7 (Success x 2 at target 5)
[Hatchet] [damage - pulling at incap if necessary]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 5, 6, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 6, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Hatchet] [and again]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 6, 6, 6, 6, 10 (Success x 4 at target 5) Re-rolls: 1
[Word on the Street] [ Nate moves forward to block Hatchet from striking again]
[Word on the Street] [ Block - 7d6]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[GNARR] (blocking the block!)
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 9 at target 6) Re-rolls: 3
[Hatchet] [damage - again, not gonna kill the little rotagar]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 3, 5, 6, 6, 7, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 4, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Hatchet] [third bite on joey]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 4, 5, 7, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 5)
[GNARR] When his packmate moves to prevent their Alpha from attacking their Rotagar again, Broken Hammer springs instantly to his feet.
The intervention is flawless. There's nothing brutal about it -- no shouldercheck, no snarl, no tooth or claw. The Forseti simply places his weight against his brother, turning his advance aside smoothly, gently, perfectly.
"Leave them. It is discipline. He will not kill her."
[Hatchet] [damage!]
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Hatchet] [that was pulled at incap, natch]
[Hatchet] Laughs in the Face of Death knows what's coming, and she knows why.
Broken Hammer sees Buried Hatchet lunge, senses on the wind or sees in his eyes the capacity for restraint, and he does not intervene.
She Who Offers Sorrow watches from the other end of the roof, as the pack's Alpha tears at his Rotagar.
Word on the Street is aghast.
Though she stands to bear it, the first bite is all but absorbed into Joey's fur. They are a tough group, the Sentinels, able to shake off a great deal, able to do as much damage as they can swallow themselves. Hatchet lunges again, and this time, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Nate jumping forward to try and stop him
and he sees it effortlessly turned aside by his Forseti. Hatchet growls, dominant more than anything else, and tears a hole in Joey's shoulder. He bites again and nearly rips her throat completely out. It is controlled. It is sane. It drops Joey, instantly, to the rooftop's floor. Hatchet stands over her, blood dripping out of his mouth, and spits it out to the side. He shifts, in an eyeblink, back to his birth form, bringing up one hoodie-sleeved arm and wiping his mouth. Reaching into his pocket, he takes out a small painted gourd that could not fit in that pocket, and smashes it rather brutally over Joey's head.
[-1G, +4HP to Joey]
When she wakes, when her eyes open, he doesn't wait for her to speak -- though he doesn't expect her to, even in this mindset. He doesn't wait for her to even lose whatever near-death drowsiness may have entered her mind. His voice, even in this form, is a hard baritone snarl.
"Three times you disobeyed me. Once you ignored your brother, who has proven his superior wisdom time. And time. Again." The words fall harsh and low from his mouth, perhaps not even audible to Sorrow, so far away. Then again: some of them have better ears than others. "So: three times -- two more, now -- I will remind you of your place in this pack. You will offer submission to Broken Hammer. And this will not happen again."
Before he does anything else, he turns his head, face bloody and eyes bright, pale, and alien under the moonlight. He looks at Word on the Street and bares his teeth, growling. "Do you wish to challenge me for leadership of this pack, Galliard?"
It isn't rhetorical. He's waiting for an answer.
[Word on the Street] Nate looks at the Alpha of the Sentinels for what seems like minutes but are actually seconds. The sound of the question ringing in his ears.
"No Alpha, I do not....I failed to understand your intent."
Nate raises his muzzle and offers his throat to Hatchet "I beg your forgiveness, and will learn from my mistake."
[Hatchet] His teeth remain in view, stained with Joey's blood, and he snarls again. It's a savage, unforgiving sound, and though it isn't far from what they've seen of him before, it's still strange that he doesn't relent. He doesn't pull back on the instinct to dominate his packmates, who he leads because
he is stronger than they are.
"Your understanding, or lack of it, does not give you leave to interfere. You do not, ever, have the right to try and stop me unless I am frenzied. I AM YOUR ALPHA." This last is literally roared, shouted gutturally at the Bone Gnawer.
It isn't words that save Nate, now. Hatchet doesn't even seem to react to hearing them. It's the exposure of his throat, the submission he is barking and posturing for. Hatchet snaps his jaws at him, a show of all-too-animal reinforcement, and then grunts, turning his head away again and looking back down at Joey.
In an instant, he is in crinos.
[-1R]
[GNARR] Broken Hammer's ears are flat against his head. When Hatchet turns away, the Forseti flicks a baffled glance between the Fianna and the Gnawer.
"Alpha," he ventures, "we need to dispose of the bodies honorably. Whatever they became, these were once Garou of Gaia, and of a rare and dwindling bloodline."
[Face of Death] Joey drops, not from wounds inflicted by an enemy, some unknown agent of the Wyrm, but by her alpha. The same person who understands what it feels like to care about someone in a way their kind isn't supposed to care, and lose that someone. The same person who sometimes sleeps in room 8 with them, guarding them in their sleep. The same person who sits with her in the Umbra, watching the spirits in silence.
When she wakes, Joey shifts to her birth form. Her clothing is ragged and torn, and she's covered in her own blood. Her face is smeared with that of two Fostern Red Talons. The Rotagar sits up, but doesn't rise from her place on the ground. She sits with her legs folded in front of her, spine curved and head bowed, eyes downcast, submissive. She doesn't offer explanation, wouldn't even if she could. The answer to her disobedience, in her mind, is simple.
She was weak, and her weakness lead to a loss of control.
Hatchet snarls at Nate, which causes Joey to look up at him, confused. Right now, he is more animal than she has ever seen him.
She doesn't rise. She doesn't shift. If he wishes to continue, she won't stop him. But...
Boss? Her voice is tentative across the totem link, unsure. And she wonders if maybe, just maybe, what happened to her has happened to him, as well. Alpha, she corrects herself more firmly, and sits up straighter, waiting for Crinos claws to tear into her all too human flesh. Did you look into their eyes? Is your beast outta control, too?
[Sorrow] she who offers sorrow remains at the edge of the roof, on the fringes of the group. Her attention falls from the pack as Hatchet throats and then heals his Rotagar to the corpses of the wolves scattered across the cinders. Her memories are fogged, limited - her perspective askew, as if she had been wearing blinders - but now she counts the dead lupus Garou - the bloodmatted fur, the staring, empty eyes, the gleaming ropes of viscera visible inside the abdominal cavity of the dead alpha, the blood around the dead female's throat and head like a collar and a crown.
The Skald's rage is spent, and the afterburn leaves her with hollow except for the pain of her wounds. Her tongue lolls out to taste the cindered air before snapping shut once more as her attention snaps back sharply to the pack in the center of the roof, her ears alert, flicking as her attention snaps from Sentinel to Sentinel.
[Hatchet] Joey is speaking, breaking her vow. Daniel is speaking, while he's in the middle of disciplining two unruly packmates. Hatchet whips his head to the side, his fur all gray and red-tipped, his claws long and entire body hulking and broad. He looks terrifying in this form, one he does not often fight in, but then... they all do. Had his first attack on Joey been in this form, it would have been hard for them to tell he was not frenzied, the way he's holding himself.
This time his voice comes over their link, and it is not the rumble of their totem and their Alpha together. It's a roar, the sort that has a true bear stomping its paw against the earth hard enough to cause it to quake, bellowing until its very fur trembles on end.
There are no words to describe what that is. Words, the ones they communicate with even over their totemic, telepathic link, are... too human a concept at this point.
His heavy arm swings in an arc towards her head, claws all but whistling in the air.
[dex + brawl]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 5, 5, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Hatchet] [damage -- pulling at incap again if necessary]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 7, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Hatchet] [-1G, Gaia's Breath, +4HP again to Joey]
[Face of Death] Joey falls silent once more. Her words aren't reaching him. She winces when that roar tears across her mind, gasps when Hatchet's claws mangle her pretty human face. She can't feel the pain in her face, not yet, not while her gift is still in effect.
So she falls back. And she waits for it to end.
[GNARR] Broken Hammer is silent now, and tense. He watches intently, muscles coiled, ready to spring if necessary.
[Hatchet] Again. This time he claws her, nearly flaying her face off the bone and muscle and fat underneath. He exposes part of her jaw. This is... beyond brutality. This seems so heedless, so thoughtless, so uncaring --
-- except when he takes out another gourd and breaks it over Joey. This time he doesn't smash it on her skull. He breaks it on her chest, over her heart, and lets the healing wash through her again. His breathing simmers. Her wounds restore themselves, all over her body, and Hatchet does not roar in her face this time or tear her ribcage open with his claws.
This third attack, the third time he promised to punish her -- no, remind her of her place -- is different from the others. He quite deliberately leans over her, hunches over her, and bites her throat firmly. This is a terror. This is a nightmare, the slow nearness of his jaws, the obviousness of his control and his decision to do it anyway.
His mouth closes on her very human, very delicate, very scarred neck.
[dex + brawl]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 9 at target 5) Re-rolls: 3
[Word on the Street] Nate is there at Daniels side waiting, watching Joey get struck with another blow. Wondering when enough was going to be enough.
He turns his head to Daniel after the comment from Joey over their totem link "So do we step in now ?"
[Hatchet] [damage - pulling at incap]
Dice Rolled:[ 17 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 4, 5, 7, 7, 7, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[GNARR] Broken Hammer's negation is nonverbal: just a faint, low whuff. He watches.
[Hatchet] Blood rushes out thick, hot, and bright red from Joey's neck. It sprays his face, covers his chest and neck. He spits it out as he turns his head, letting her slump to the ground rather than dropping her like a sack of bricks. And then he swivels his head over to Daniel, making a low whuffing noise.
Heal sister. Spirit weak, saving talens. Heal sister.
[GNARR] The Forseti's yellow eyes linger on Hatchet for a moment after the Fianna speaks. For a second it seems Broken Hammer might say something.
Then the Forseti rises to his feet, padding forward. He laps at the Rotagar's wounds patiently, and they close beneath his tongue.
[-1Gn -- 6 autosuxx!]
[Hatchet] [perception + primal urge on daniel]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 6, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Face of Death] Joey doesn't rise again. She just lays there as Hatchet's huge Crinos head looms over her. She feels his teeth sink into her scarred throat. She feels him snap through her windpipe, but it's not pain that makes her eyes go wide for one horrible moment.
cant'breathcan'tbreathcan'tbreathe
And then the world goes dark.
She comes to with a gasp. She's a mess, the freckles of her face completely lost beneath a layer of her own blood. Joey is too weak to rise again. She's been taken to the brink of death three times. A great canine tongue is lapping at her wounds. She doesn't push Daniel away when she comes to her senses.
Joey just lays there on her back, submitting to the treatment. Whenever Daniel finally stops, she rolls onto her side first, gathering her strength before making the push to sit upright. She's tired, wants to sleep, but there's cleansing to be done. Bodies to be moved. All the horrible little things that always need to be done after a battle.
[Hatchet] Daniel's healing covers almost everything. Joey is very nearly good as new, but for being covered in blood. Hatchet is still a hulking monster, seeming more comfortable in this form than the one he was born in, right now. He crouches on top of the roof, staring at his packsister as she rights herself. He leans forward and butts his head against her bicep, a strong pressure that is not quite a nuzzle.
Over now.
He turns to look at Daniel. He didn't forget. He didn't ignore. One still alive. We take to Caern. They cannot be buried there --
For a moment he doesn't sound like a caveman, as though he's stirring slightly.
-- because they hated. They were not Maelstrom's. But we ask what to do. Bleeding Heart-rhya is wise, Balance Without Fault-rhya is honorable. They will tell us what to do.
There's an odd level of trust in his tone, a certainty that the higher-ranked wolves will know better. He rises to his feet and moves to pick up the urine-soaked body of the female, the one that was his kill. He drapes her over his shoulder, nodding to Sorrow as she picks up the one she chased down. They will take them through the Gauntlet, and take them back to the Caern. Hatchet seems calm now. Just... strange.
Very, very strange.
[GNARR] [i think that's a good wrap! for the record: the living Talon will be questioned, and then sent to a more powerful Sept somewhere up north where he'll be judged and cleansed if possible. The dead ones will be cleansed and then cremated honorably with better wishes for their reincarnations, but no marker will be raised.]
[Hatchet] [Thank you for STing, Damon! Thank you guys for the RP. Intense. *L*]
[GNARR] [thanks for playing! and thanks for being good sports when i fucked with your chars *LOL*]
[Face of Death] [lol no problem, man! It was a blast!]
red.
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