Daniel Broken Hammer

[Fabienne Bartelle] *The Brotherhood of Thieves. A rather interesting idea, but one Fabienne didn't find herself entirely in agreement with. Too many kin unattended, mingling with Garou as though they were common room mates. There were issues of wardership and possession for good reasons, not simply tradition refusing to "modernize" with the times. Wolves, were by nature territorial creatures. "Neutral" territory was a rather foreign concept. Humans as well, were territorial. Fabienne's society ladies would look rather askance at a thuggish gangbanger sitting at their table and eating shrimp scampi with them uninvited, just as a East Harlem Kripp would have nothing but ill intention for the Manhattan socialite wandering in his neighborhood. In a nation divided by tribe, history, and ideology, it seemed to Fabienne that putting together various wolves and their cherished kinfolk all under one wolf - with a mundane mortal establishment below no less - was folly in the highest degree. As such, the silverfang kinfolk is ill at ease. Eager to be out of the common room and in the hallway, knuckles rapping quietly on the door said to belong to Broken Hammer. She glances over her shoulder as though expecting an altercation at any moment. Canvas bag swung nervously in her hand.*

[Fabienne Bartelle] ]]all under one ROOF! ahem.[[

[Broken Hammer] No one answers the door. After a time, however, Fabienne detects a presence behind her. Turn, and there he is, lean and dour as ever, staring directly at her with the sort of unflinching, unwavering regard of a wolf discovering a stranger in his territory.

Which is, in fact, exactly what he is.

After a moment, though, Broken Hammer steps forward. His footfalls are soft, nearly silent. He has a bag in his hand, laundry perhaps, which he lowers to the floor at his door. Without speaking he unlocks the door and opens it, stepping aside to allow the Fang kin entrance to the room he shares with two packmates. As one might expect, it's crowded and messy. There are closets, dressers, three desks and three beds: two normal twinsized beds and the third a bunk that looks sturdily custom-lofted.

Of three desks and beds, one is exceedingly messy, one is unmade but at least not piled with clothes, and the last, the bunk, is rigidly neat, the blankets folded at the head of the bed and the pillow stacked atop, the sheets beneath without a wrinkle. Guess while one is Daniel's.

"Welcome to my den, kinswoman," he says, quiet and rather formal. "I have reported the incident the other day to your elder. She was pleased with your behavior."

[Fabienne Bartelle] *A few minutes of waiting was enough to cause the kin to grow warm. Over-warm. Finally uncomfortable enough in the staleness of the empty hallway, surrounded by the warbled din of friday night activity to remove her coat and seriously consider leaving the Fenrir's crude bludgeoning instrument with the proprietors of this establishment. She stands restless in a light blue silk blouse and a pair of expertly tailored khaki dress slacks. Diamond pendant at her throat fingered idly. That hand going flat, suddenly tense as Broken Hammer's gaze finally begins to burn into her back. She snaps her head to him, perhaps expecting to see some half nude denzien of the flophouse gawking. A quirk of lips, Fang kin saying little as she moves into the room at his behest. Its only once he has spoken that Fabienne does so as well. Crisp and polite.*

Thank you, Broken Hammer rhya. That my elder was pleased in turn pleases me.

*Humor? Hard to tell, gaze passing over the room in all its shoddy entirity. She ducks her head and takes a seat in a chair at the desk nearest the bed she assumes - from its rigid tidiness and lack of creative flair - to be Daniel's. Hand fold in her lap as she continues, looking to the werewolf proper, every inch a royal or diplomat.*

I have brought you a gift of sorts.

[Broken Hammer] The Forseti's eyes skate quickly over the kinswoman as a gift is mentioned, just as quickly thereafter returning to her face. "That is not necessary," he says, an assumption immediately reached. "You could hardly help being where you were that day, and it is the duty of a Garou to protect the kin of his people if he can. Besides, you were no trouble."

[Fabienne Bartelle] Mm.

*A quiet noise of amusement. Lips purse together to prevent a smile, her eyebrows raising as she listens to Broken Hammer's assumptions without correcting him. It was quiet impolite to smirk, and when she feels she might do so, she instead brings a hand to her mouth and clears her throat. A wrinkle smoothed from the coat now draped across her lap. A strange air of formality and presentation in the stuffy little dorm room, as the statuesque blonde pulls a crowbar from the designer bag and offers it with a muted smile.*

Of course. However it is not much of a gift, as it is in fact yours, I believe.

[Broken Hammer] Something rare, then: a flash of chagrined humor before Broken Hammer reaches out his lean hand and takes the crowbar.

Which promptly loses all definition, running up his arm like a wisp of smoke to lodge firmly under the skin of his bicep, nothing more than a black mark now like a tattoo. "Thank you, kinswoman," he says. "This held a piece of my spirit in it. It is good to be whole again."

A pause; then quite without warning: "What does the diamond at your throat signify?"

[Fabienne Bartelle] *The question is considered as the slender silverfang kin allows herself to rest more comfortably in the sturdy little chair provided. Fingers seek the pendant of their own accord, rubbing rounded edges between slender fingers as she weighs subterfuge with simplicity. As it usually does, simplicity wins the day.*

A tradition of fine craftsmanship, excellence, and outstanding skill by the gemsmiths at Cartier in New York. Several thousand dollars, and a former Fiance with poor attendance but exquisite taste.

*She looks to Broken Hammer for his reaction, dove grey eyes careful not to hold his overlong. Instead tight skin and tensing facial muscles are taken in mildly, gaze skating over the slope of a long nose, the upturn or down curl of lips, her own eyebrow rising in question.*

[Broken Hammer] Fabienne knows etiquette and the strictures of polite behavior perfectly; it's actual charisma she lacks. Daniel, unfortunately, has neither. "A former not-mate, presumably fled into ignominy. And yet you still wear it. Why?"

[Fabienne Bartelle] In truth, I don't rightly know. Its a fine piece of jewelry, and while the Gentleman who gave it to me was something of a cad, it doesn't make sense to let sentimentality ruin a perfectly lovely pendant.

*While the Forseti's line of questioning catches her rather off guard, she answers as concisely as she can. Drawing the trinket away from her throat to survey it in the light.*

[Broken Hammer] "Hm." It's a sort of noncommittal sound. Broken Hammer looks about, and then he sits on the edge of his bed. With the bunk over his head, he's cast into shadow when he leans back, his black eyes glimmering from the dimness. His shoulders press to the wall. His body is slung easy and graceful, stretched crosswise on the mattress.

"Another question? How did you lose your hearing?" It seems like an interrogation. Likely it's his idea of conversation. Curiosity, at least.

[Fabienne Bartelle] *Eerie. A wolf peering at her from the shadows of his den. The fine line of her jaw tenses, whether at his question or his posture - difficult to tell. Her hearing. Fabienne crosses her legs and phrases her answer very carefully.*

I suffered a head injury whilst in Vienna. My left eardrum was severely perforated.

[Broken Hammer] Hard to tell -- might be a frown on his face in response. "But a kin so purebred as yourself, and no one to heal you?" A pause; he puzzles over this for a moment. "A Garou struck you, is this so? A Garou with a claim to you."

[Fabienne Bartelle] As I respect your right to inquire of me what you would like, I bid you extend me the right to privacy on this particular matter, as elaboration would cause no small embarrassment to someone I hold dear. Please rest assured in knowing that it was not without reason that I suffered, nor provoked injury.

*Formal, her posture shifting to something more upright, a hand slipping through blonde curls as she purses her lips and speaks a crisp request. Not charming, but well spoken. Not coy, but unwilling to give up her secrets so readily, Fabienne chooses not to disrespect the halfmoon with a lie, when a polite refusal might serve as well.*

[Izzy Montoya] Friday. Or whatever it was that Daniel called it, berating her for not knowing another language, or her history, or.. whatever. She's become accustomed to it, truth be told. Either way - it's Friday and she arrives at the brotherhood, sometime after dinner, sometime after her shift, sometime... after.

But well before midnight. Rebellious, yes. Stupid, no.

When she doesn't see him in the restaurant proper, she takes a breath and makes her way to the kitchen, and the stairs beyond. She waits to ensure no one will join her in the stairwell, and takes them to at a time until she appears in the commons, finding it empty as well. Voices, however. There are voices down the hallway from the direction of cellblock room 8. She grits her teeth, briefly, and then makes her way down the hallway.

There's a light knock on the door frame, as she looks into the room. "Daniel, I don't want to interrupt, just to let you know I'm here. I'll wait downstairs, if that's alright."

[Broken Hammer] This brings the Forseti sitting up, a slow smooth controlled rise, all his strength within his body. His face comes into the light; his hands wrap around some unseen support slat on the underside of the top bunk. He studies the Fang kin for a moment, then nods: a small inclination of his chin.

"Very well. Even if it were unjust," he adds, "that is the business of your Tribe."

The door to the room is ajar. Izzy appears, and instantly the Forseti's eyes cast her way, alert and sharp. He listens; then, when she turns to go, he interrupts: "Stay. Come in. Have you met Fabienne of the Silver Fangs? Fabienne, this is my kinswoman, given into my care by the Jarl."

[Fabienne Bartelle] A pleasure to meet you again Ms. - Montoya was it?

*Fabienne rises, glad for the distraction and change of topic. A slender hand extended once more to Izzy, and once taken or refused, she settles gracefully back into her seat. Eyes skating to Broken Hammer.*

Your kin and myself have met previously, we both attended a kinfolk coalition meeting a few short weeks ago.

[Izzy Montoya] Shit.

The tension slings through her, instantly. Even while forced, she rarely entered the room - having to take time to prepare and steady herself. And then he compounds it with his choice of words, and her jaw tenses, her eyes closing briefly as she slides her hands into her pockets, hiding them away to clench at will.

But she steps into the room, standing so that the door remains open as she forces herself to breath deeply. Easy, Izzy. Breathe.

"Evening, Ms. Bartelle." To the Fang. She takes her hand briefly, and then returns her own to her pocket afterward.

[Broken Hammer] "Kinfolk coalition?" is all Daniel says, blank.

[Fabienne Bartelle] *Katherine Bellamonte's newest kin blinks. Grey eyes slowly sliiiide to Izzy. Were it not that Fabienne herself had been the one to ask where warders and garou involvement factored into their foolish little coalition, she'd perhaps have forgotten the stipulations for being involved in it. That the wolves. Must. Know. This was awkward. Its with graceful efficiency of motion that the blonde raises to her feet and folds her coat over her arm.*

Mm. I should perhaps leave you to discuss such matters.

[Izzy Montoya] She meets Fabienne's gaze without flinching, arching a brow slightly at the way she chooses to address it, making it awkward. But her explanation is for Daniel.

"Wyrmbreaker's mate has begun setting up an system for kinfolk to support one another, offering support, training and information subsections, in hopes of streamlining a coalition that will be of aid, through sharing our strengths. I've attended the meetings, but have yet to decide the extent of my involvement."

[Broken Hammer] Broken Hammer's attention is rather fixed on Izzy now. "How long have you been attending these meetings?"

[Izzy Montoya] "There have only been two."

[Fabienne Bartelle] *Fabienne is stuck in a rather uncomfortable position. While she bears the Detective no ill will for secrets kept - however inappropriate- she still doesn't want to be caught in the middle of such an..unpleasant situation. Yet, she hasn't been dismissed, and to simply blurt out uncomfortable truths and leave without being told to seemed very uncouth. Stuck in limbo, she simply folds her hands, ducks her head, and waits quietly.*

[Broken Hammer] "That was not what I asked. I asked how long. There was a pact between us, kinswoman."

[Broken Hammer] [sorry so slow! had to type lots for other scene]

[Izzy Montoya] "The first was before this." A gesture between them.

"The second... a couple weeks ago, I think. Like I said, I hadn't decided on my actual involvement. Had I decided to become fully immersed in it, I would have brought it to you - I didn't think it would break the pact between us to wait to make my decision first."

[Fabienne Bartelle] *Fabienne has her head turned, just slightly, so as to hear Broken Hammer more clearly. Silent as she raises a hand to press against a diamond pendant. Eyes drifting from Izzy to the Garou in the room. Her voice lifts more audibly.*

Broken hammer - ryha. This visit has been most pleasant, save for recent developments, if you would prefer , I will leave you to conduct Fenrir matters in privacy.

*Subtle, but a request and a reminder all in one breath.*

[Broken Hammer] Daniel's eyes are dark, black with anger, and they snap instantly to Fabienne as she interrupts. For an instant he doesn't seem to understand her words, or even that they are words. He doesn't seem to recognize her at all.

Then he lifts his chin a faint degree, standing.

"Goodnight, kinswoman." His tone is flat with control, with deliberate courtesy. "Thank you for returning my belongings."

When Fabienne has departed, Broken Hammer presses again: "Before or after you were given leave to attend functions outside of work, kinswoman?"

[Fabienne Bartelle] *Something unpleasant clenches in her stomach. Fought back against and quelled as Broken Hammer's eyes rivet on her with all the gleaming focus of an animal. A shiver has her rolling her shoulders and making for the door. Tense, polite smile vaguely apologetic as she passes Izzy, and slips out with coat in hand, canvas bag forgotten.*

[Izzy Montoya] "After." She's certain of that much. Rebellious and angry, but most certainly not stupid. She puses back her hair, damp from her earlier walk with the Jarl in the snow, and then digs in her pocket for her phone, flipping through to her calendar until she finds the date of the meeting - proof.

"The Meeting was on the12th. You released my days to me on the 5th." She turns the phone around to show him the two dates, marked, as well as her release to her home as of las Friday, the 19th. "I did not break our agreement, Daniel. You would have caught any lie during our nightly int...meetings at that time."

And she completely ignores Fabienne as she moves past her.

[Broken Hammer] Daniel draws a long breath, releases it slowly. Pushes anger back, back.

"Fine," he utters at last, low. "Still, this sounds important. Fenris knows with the atittudes of kin in this city, it sounds like something that could quickly get out of hand. That you chose not to tell me until you were exposed does not give me any more faith in your proceedings.

"Why did you not tell me?"

[Fabienne Bartelle] *She's in the hallway when she realizes she's without one of her items. Tenseness rolling off her frame, she squares her shoulders and looks back at the closed door of room 8. No. She had returned the Fenrir's property. He could surely do the same for her. What if he finds the house? He would surely go through Katherine. What if he doesn't? Regardless, there are many locks on the door, and one couldn't keep the penthouse a secret forever. Only as long as possible. Its with a sharp frown at herself that she takes a deep breath, and proceeds through the hall to the exit. Sans bag.*

[Izzy Montoya] She remains in the open doorway, the hallway at her back, some measure of comfort that open space is a few feet away, though the tension still weaves about her, tight, tight along her spine, as she shoves the phone back into her pocket.

"Because the last time I told you anything willingly, you told me I was wrong and stupid, and that my ideals couldn't possibly have any merit. When I tried to explain something to you just last week, you accused me of thinking that would lead me to the wyrm. Until I was certain that I wished to be involved in this kin thing, I did not want to be berated for even giving it thought. I didn't break our agreement, and I would have told you once I had been certain of my decision, once I knew more of what they intend to do. Right now? They don't even know for certain what they want to achieve."

A beat, and softly. "You do not make it easy to talk to you, Daniel."

[Broken Hammer] "Excuses!" he shouts, the crack of his voice sudden, splitting the air. "Tell me now. Tell me about this kin coalition. What are its goals? What is its aim? Who is a member? Is that ridiculous kinswoman Leyna a part of it?"

[Izzy Montoya] She flinches and takes a step back. She expects him to hit her. She expects him to do worse. It's clear in her face. It's clear in the way she trembles - as once again he proves exactly what she just said. She grinds her teeth, her jaw tenses. She is in the open doorway now, though it makes no difference. Her eyes close briefly, and she forces herself to breathe.

Just breathe.
[inhale,exhale]

"The first meeting held some 20-25 people. Leyna was at that one. She did not attend the second one - only about eight of us did. It is currently lead by Danicka, until a leader is elected. Moira heads the support, along with Gina. Ethan Yates heads the training section. Danicka the information. The stated purpose is" and here it's clear this is a direct quote. "to increase a sense of community among us, but to make sure that necessary information about threats and opportunities is disseminated clearly and quickly to everyone, potentially saving lives. To be prepared to aid and serve ourselves beyond mating, parenting, and cleanup."

Breathe. Just breathe. "Currently, it is a fragmented idea at best."

[Broken Hammer] Daniel listens, glowering, and when Izzy is finished his jaw works once -- clench and release.

"That sounds like a reasonable goal," he acknowledges at last, low, "and perhaps something that has been missing amongst the kinfolk of this city. But Thornton? Is he a part of this organization?"

[Izzy Montoya] She doesn't step closer. She doesn't move. She waits for the other shoe to drop. THIS is why she told Kemp she did not want to share anything with Daniel - and knowing that meeting is coming is not setting well with her at all. Her hands are clenched tightly in the pockets of her coat, nails digging into her palms, seconds from drawing blood.

"He attended the first meeting. He did not attend the second."

[Broken Hammer] Broken Hammer utters an exclamation; something like a curse.

"Bring this news to the Jarl. Inform him of what this organization is, and that both kin have shown interest. Tell him it's my opinion that neither of them can be trusted in such an organization; the potential for them leading all other kin down some wrongheaded path is too great.

"Regardless of what Truth in Frenzy-rhya thinks of Thornton and Stidolph's involvement, you are to ensure that they do not lead their fellow kin astray. Thornton, despite his monumental error, may yet have some worth. Stidolph -- if she is a part of that organization, you are not to be. It is one or the other. If she reappears and you cannot convince her to leave in peace, you will do so yourself."

[Izzy Montoya] "John has plenty of worth!" It's out before she can stop it, and she actively flinches back the second her mouth snaps shut again. He knows how she feels about him - has seen it himself. He can't be surprised at the outburst.

Then, just a nod.

[breathe, Izzy. breathe.]

Then "I saw the Jarl today. And a couple days ago. He" she doesn't want this, doesntwantthisnonononono "wants to arrange a meeting between us."

[Broken Hammer] "Who. You and I and he?"

[Izzy Montoya] "Yes."

[Broken Hammer] "Very well. I will tell him myself, then." He draws a breath; then, without warning: "Kinswoman, have you obeyed all orders I have given you in your life and actions this past week?"

[Izzy Montoya] He doesn't ask why - part of her hoped he would. Maybe they could discuss it privately, not with... but no. He doesn't care to know anything of her - of why. He has proved, again, tonight, everything she has said is true. There's that flicker of hurt in her eyes again, briefly sliding across her face, though she isn't looking directly at him.

Quietly, almost inaudible. "Yes."

[Broken Hammer] "Good."

Broken Hammer sits again on the edge of his bunk, exhaling slowly, bringing his hands up to scrub at his face for a moment. Then he lowers them.

"Another month, kinswoman, and we'll be done with these tedious sessions. And I dearly hope we will both be able to return to some level of normality in our lives without danger of relapse."

[Izzy Montoya] She's still trembling, though she tries to hold it back. This room, the rage, the constant. refusal of seeing her, stripping more from her every single time...

He finds it tedious. She finds it unbearable. Nails break skin in her palm, unnoticed but for the wetness against her fingers when she forces them to relax, the joints aching as she does so, even as she keeps them in her pocket.

"I've chosen John." Without preamble. Then. "May I go."

[Broken Hammer] Broken Hammer nods. "We will have to defend that to the Jarl. But you're dismissed, kinswoman. Goodnight."

[Izzy Montoya] "I already told him."

She doesn't say goodnight, she just turns to go.

[Broken Hammer] [thanks for the RP! apologies for sleep dep and slowness!]

[Null Moon] [These should be familiar:

1. I'm aiming to have this scene finished in 3-4 hours, so with that in mind, please keep narrative posts to less than 10 minutes and inits/declares to 3 minutes or you'll be skipped; roll within 2 minutes or I'll roll for you.
2. If you have any exploitable flaws (phobias, nightmares, whatever) or themes that you don't want to see tonight, PM them to me now.
3. Please don't ask me questions in the chat if you'd like a speedy response; IM me.
4. There is no posting order, but please post once for each of mine.
5. I will be dropping a post in 15-20 minutes. If you need anything, get it now!
6. Have fun, dammit!]

[Null Moon] By now they ought to be able to tell when a perfectly normal night is primed to be shot straight to Hell.

It has nothing to do with otherworldly visions of the sort that the Theurge of the Sentinels used to get, like the one he had the night that he died fighting alongside his brother; none of them have any precognitive abilities, and the spirits do not reach out to them. For whatever reason, the three Sentinels and one lone wolf find themselves out in the South Side, looking for food or hooligans or diversion on this windy, cloudy Friday evening. The moon is completely obscured by cloud cover, and the sky is pink with millions of watts of lights reflecting off of the celestial blanket.

They can tell that this night is not long for this world because in the moments before chaos erupts several streets over, the night seems to hold its breath. It holds its breaths, and then someone starts to scream.

It's a high-pitched, feminine sound, carrying high on the breeze, and then something that they don't hear very often: gunshots. Footfalls clatter on the sidewalk, and they can hear a deep masculine voice yelling "Bring it, mother fucker!" as one, two, three shots fire off.

A roar shatters the night air then, and the shots stop.

[Face of Death] [trying out a new toy: Blur, motherfucker!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 5, 5, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 8)

[Face of Death] Joey walks beside her brother and her sister. She may be one of their pack's Omegas, but the Rotagar doesn't act like it. With the exception of that night on a rooftop when they ran into a pack of Red Talons, Joey defers to the direction of her other packmates. Except Nate. Joey has yet to bow to orders given by the Sentinels' newest brother. But, Joey does not keep her head down or assume a posture of submission when around the rest of the pack. She did when Buried Hatchet was feral, when he was lead by his wolf more than he was by his human mind.

That was some time ago.

Three of The Sentinels have traveled to the south side together. Most of the journey down from The Brotherhood was made in Joey's Camaro, parked a block or so away. On foot now, they walk together, more or less. Daniel, ever dour, Joey, quiet as usual even though her vow has long since passed, and Echo, who can easily talk enough for the entire pack.

Shots ring out, shouts are heard. Joey's head snaps around to look at Daniel and Echo. As the youngest, smallest, and the Omega, Joey gets the shit jobs. Like scouting in a rundown part of town, looking for the source not of the gunfire or the shouts (come on, this is Bronzeville), but the roar. One moment Joey is a solid, familiar figure dressed in dark coat and jeans. The next, the edges blur, and she becomes more difficult to track. Calling on a newly learned Gift, the Rotagar goes off in search of trouble, keeping to the shadows.

[Kire] The night was normal, if not pretty cold, an eerie silence in the surrounding area seemed to be the only strange thing for Kire, and even that was quickly fixed by the sound of dogs barking in the distance. The large man, having just finished trying to track down other members of his Tribe in the city (to no avail), was headed back home and extra cautious given the area's reputation. Even with the night feeling like any other night, a strange sensation made his hairs stand on end, something was off but he didn't notice anything in particular. It was like his sixth sense was telling him something, but the message was lost in translation.

And then a high-pitched scream in the distance, followed by a sound familiar to him, a sound that is so natural to him that he didn't notice how strange it was to hear it here until a few seconds later. Gunshots. But this was Chicago, not a war-torn country or some battlefield, it was a peaceful American city, there might be crime here and there though so he wouldn't have put too much thought into it but not tonight. Muggings, murders, rapes, those things were common in the places he'd been, places he'd lived in, they didn't quite faze him anymore, you learned to tune them out.

But for some reason, tonight it felt different, felt wrong, the man's voice seemed to call to him, and then a powerful roar, there it was. His sixth sense had been right, and every nerve in his body seemed to jump to action, as though jolted from their slumber. An unnatural calm built up from a lifetime of life-and-death battles spread through his body though his senses were on edge, aware of everything that happened around him, he didn't rush to the scene or even run. Kire calmly paced himself as he walked there, careful to not seem out of place as he slid through an alley, left hand digging into his jacket and taking hold of one of his Colts' grips in the darkness as he headed for ground zero.

[Face of Death] [oops, I rolled the wrong thing, +1 die!]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3 (Failure at target 8)

[Broken Hammer] Broken Hammer does not go dashing after Joey. He lets the Rotagar do her job, hanging back with his higher-ranked packmate.

[Null Moon] [Doo de doo...]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 8, 8 (Botch x 2 at target 9)

[Null Moon] [Doo de doo Part 2: Electric Boogaloo]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 2, 10 (Failure at target 6)

[End Transmission] Echo Quinn is not the most eloquent of creatures.

When the sound of screams, gun-shots and a roar rend apart the evening's stillness, her first reaction is to curse, loudly. "Fuck my world, what the hell was that?" Followed by the desire to head in the direction of that roar, she tamps down on it, however, and lets her sister make use of her newest trick -- blurring herself like a watercolor to do the recon work.

End Transmission brings up the rear of their little outfit, right behind Daniel.

[Null Moon] The street is in disarray, the warriors just seconds shy of witnessing the chaos of a few dozen bodies scrambling for cover, the Delirium taken over their senses and giving them an overwhelming compulsion to just run, to escape regardless of what gets in their way or what else might threaten them. Trash cans are knocked over; bags of fast food are dropped on the concrete; one woman forgot her purse; an abandoned, empty stroller lies on its side, wheels still spinning. Oncoming traffic screeches to a halt and then diverts as drivers see the airborne monstrosity and bang a U-turn in the middle of the quiet residential street, and standing in the middle of the road, squaring off against the monstrous creature, is a lone human.

The human isn't likely what the warriors focus on first.
It's the flying viper.

Its head is distorted, distended, as though it were made out of clay and put to a vice. It's long, at least twenty feet so, and its appendages are grotesque, dripping gore and blood off the end of their claws. Wings spread as long as its body are black and rubbery, shot through with veins the size of a human arm and keeping the entire thing aloft, curling around in circles as it seems to taunt the human on the ground.

Its form, though. It doesn't stay the same. Its worm-like body is constantly twitching and changing consistency and color, growing and losing plates of armor, skin quite literally crawling across its form, and behind it lashes a terrible serrated tail that has bits of flesh stuck to it. It cracks that tail at the man on the ground without hitting him, the shooter taking a deft step back to keep himself from being caught up in the creature's grasp.

Neither of them notice the Rotagar. In fact, to the man, it's as though nothing exists but his foe.

[Kire] Still hiding in the darkness of the alley, Kire tried to move to a vantage point where he could see into the street and all the commotion but avoid being seen himself, at least for now. The sounds of the battle made it obvious how dangerous it was and he wished to avoid getting directly involved. Kire drew his gun out now, though, no longer content on simply being ready to take it out during an emergency, whatever was going on merited the use of it if he got involved. Though was the man fighting the thing an ally or simply an enemy fighting another one of their enemies?

[Dex + Stealth to remain hidden]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 6, 6, 6, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] Broken Hammer is from a rather fanatical sect of Fenrir dedicated to hunting amongst the chaff of humanity. For all that, he rarely seems reluctant to shift in public: clearly one of the kill first, cleanup later camp. Instantly, the rawboned Forseti is in direwolf form, swift and fleetfooted even in a form that most are bulky and massive in.

He utters a low warning bark: "I wouldn't discount the man-thing."

[Face of Death] The only ones who can see Joey are her packmates, already looking at her when she called on the Blur of the Milky Eye. She keeps to the side, moving cautiously forward, and she is for all intents and purposes, invisible.

She creeps incredibly close to the man and the monster, trying to determine if the human is friend or foe. Crouching low to ensure she remains unseen, Joey watches the man, and she looks up at the beast above them.

[End Transmission] [Activate Steel Fur]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 7, 10 (Failure at target 7)

[sklora-Myrgen] sklora-Myrgen, intent on simply getting back to the Caern after his latest foray out into the city, is diverted by the sound of tires screeching, by screams and gunshots. They all translate into one imperative, and that is to investigate. One day, that imperative will get him killed. Hopefully not tonight.

Breaking into a lope, he moves down the street, towards the intersection of the Avenue up ahead from where the screams are coming. Traffic is backed up, people trying to reverse away, or simply abandonin their cars. The Silver Fang hugs the walls, and when he gains the Avenue, takes a moment to simply assess, search out potential allies, other foes, before acting.

[End Transmission] The smaller wolf that surges into being beside Broken Hammer is already bristling, growling low in her throat, her dark eyes set on the flapping, oozing abomination in the sky. She spares a moment or two of consideration for the human [Kinfolk?] standing beneath it as she whuffs at her pack-mates: If he is enemy, can jam his weaponry, but he fires on it. Think friend.

The mottled wolf begins to creep closer, leading her brother toward the fray.

What do you see, Joey?, comes Echo's voice over the totemlink.

[Null Moon] [Doo de doo...]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 4, 5 (Botch x 2 at target 10)

[Null Moon] [Doo de doo Part Two...]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 5, 7 (Success x 1 at target 7)

[sklora-Myrgen] [sM Per + Aler]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 5, 6, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Null Moon] Maybe the blurred creature tiptoes beneath a street lamp accidentally, or the clouds part just enough to let the moonlight shine through; maybe the man on the ground just isn't entertaining enough to hold the creature's attention for very long. In either case, Face of Death creeps very, very close...

... and then the thing looses a keening screech that almost sounds like delight, and whips its tail at her.

[Iniiiiits!]

[End Transmission] [+10
Oh yeah, and I hear Resist Pain is helpful.]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2

[sklora-Myrgen] [Inits +7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7

[Kire] [+7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2

[Face of Death] [-1R Snapshift to Hispo, -1WP for Resist Pain]
[+9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9

[Broken Hammer] [-1R snapshift hispo, -1WP resist pain
+9!]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2 (Failure at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Mr. Pink, +7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1

[Null Moon] [Nuasdi, +6]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1

[Null Moon] [ROUND ONE -- FIGHT

Joey: 18
sM: 14
Echo: 12
Daniel: 11
Kire: 9
Mr. Pink: 8
Nuasdi: 7

Echo and Daniel have to devote an action to joining in on the fun since they're so far away. Declare in reverse order. Remember, declares in 3 minutes or you're skipped, roll in 2 or I do it for you. Go go go go!]

[Null Moon] [Nuasdi
1a:
1b:
R1:

All tail-lashes on Joey. Will hit sM if Joey goes down.

Mr. Pink
1a:
1b:
1c:
1d: +WP

All shots on sM.]

[Kire] [Trying to maintain some sneak action and aiming]

[End Transmission] [Reflexive orders from Echo: See if you can get behind it, Joey! Bring down those wings, Daniel!]

[Broken Hammer] [1a. jump!
b. bite wings!
R1. jump again!
R2. bite again!]

[End Transmission] [1a. Runrunrun!
1b. Bite Mr Pink
1c. Bite Mr Pink + WP
R1. Again, or if dead, attacking wings!]

[Broken Hammer] [1a. run
b. jump
c. bite
R1. jump
R2. bite]

[sklora-Myrgen] [sM: Reflexive: Resist Pain [WP], Spur Claws [1R]

1a. Run and leap off car onto snake's back [WP]
1b. Claw [release spur claws]
R1. Bite
R2. Bite]

[Face of Death] [1a: Jump!
1b: Bite tail, called shot, +WP (Latching on in hopes of acting as anchor)]

[Face of Death] [1a: Sproing!: str -2, diff 3]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 5, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 3)

[Face of Death] [1b: CHOMP: -3, diff +2 (targeting tail]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 5, 6, 6, 8 (Success x 1 at target 7) [WP]

[Face of Death] [damage: str +1 (Bear) +2 +0]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 5, 6, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Nuasdi
Soak: Stamina +4 (Armor)]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 3, 5, 6, 6, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[sklora-Myrgen] [1a. Jump! Str - 2, diff 3]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 6, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 6 at target 3) [WP]

[Null Moon] [STAY UP]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 4, 6, 7, 7 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Face of Death] [DOWN!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 7, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Face of Death] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[sklora-Myrgen] [Claw, Dex + Brawl, diff 6, -3]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 6, 7 (Failure at target 6)

[End Transmission] [1a. I'm ruuuuuunin'!
1b. CHOMP on Mr Pink (Dex + Brawl -3 Split)]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 5, 7, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 5)

[End Transmission] [Damage]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 5, 5, 5, 7, 7, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] [redeclare!
1a. chomp mr. pink
b. again
R1
R1 - both bites on snake thing, held til end of round when it's in range.]

[End Transmission] [1c. Bite Mr Pink again! (-4 Split) (-2 Diff to Bite, stunned)]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 7, 9 (Success x 4 at target 3) [WP]

[End Transmission] [Damage]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 4, 4, 6, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Mr. Pink
Stunned]

[Broken Hammer] 1a. chomp!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7 (Success x 5 at target 5)

[Broken Hammer] dam+4!
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 3, 3, 3, 4, 6, 6, 6, 7, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Mr. Pink
x_x]

[Null Moon] [Nuasdi
1a: Brawl+Dexterity: Wah-chh! -2 pool (split), +1 diff (SHE'S ON ME).]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 6, 8, 8, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 7)

[Null Moon] [Damage: Strength +3 (tail) +3 (suxx).] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Face of Death] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 5, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Nuasdi
1b: Brawl+Dexterity: Wah-chh! -3 pool (split), +1 diff (SHE'S ON ME).]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 9 (Failure at target 7)

[sklora-Myrgen] [Claw Moffugah snake thing +1 diff]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 6, 6, 6, 7, 7 (Success x 1 at target 7)

[sklora-Myrgen] [Damage Str + 1claw]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 6, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Nuasdi
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[sklora-Myrgen] [Bite Dex + Brawl]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 7, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 8 at target 5)

[sklora-Myrgen] [Damage Str +1bite + 7suxx]
Dice Rolled:[ 16 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Nuasdi
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[End Transmission] [R1: CHOMP! +2 Diff for Called Shot]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 8, 8, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 7)

[End Transmission] [Damage + 3]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 5, 7, 7, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Nuasdi
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 3, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] b. chomp Nuasdi! -3 dice, diff 7 to compensate for wrong diff last time!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7) Re-rolls: 1

[Broken Hammer] dam +1!
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 5, 7, 7, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Nuasdi
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] R1. chomp again!
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 5, 7, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] damage +0
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 6, 7, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] R2. chomp again!
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1

[Null Moon] [Nuasdi
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] Damage +4
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Nuasdi
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 5, 6, 6, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Nuasdi
R1: Brawl+Dexterity: Tail-Lash on Joey. +2 diff (spur claws).]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 5, 5, 7, 8 (Failure at target 8)

[Null Moon] [Damage Tally
Everyone: OK

Nuasdi: 5A/??

ROUND TWO -- FIGHT

Joey
sM
Echo
Daniel
Kire
Nuasdi]

[Null Moon] [Nuasdi
1: Pull out Spur Claws.
R1: Bite Daniel.
R2: Bite Echo.]

[Kire] [1a. aimed shot; 1b. regular shot]

[Broken Hammer] [reflexive: ask Joey to jawlock Nuasdi as her first action!]

1a. bite (hopefully) pinned nuasdi!
b. again!
R1. chomp!
R2. chomp more!

[End Transmission] [1a. Bite Nuasdi
1b. Again!
1c. Again!
R1. Called Shot, Bite the Head!]

[sklora-Myrgen] [Reflexive: Lambent Flame!]
1a. Bite!
1b. Bite!
1c. Bite!
Rage 1: Tickle!]

[Null Moon] This is not the first time that Face of Death has encountered a winged monster on the streets of Chicago before, and it likely isn't going to be the last. What separates this encounter from the last, however, is the fact that the beast is heavier, hardier. It's deadlier.

In her dire wolf form, the Rotagar springs twenty-five feet into the air, grabbing onto the base of the thing's serrated tail on the rebound; luck is on her side, though, for the razor-like protrusions from its flesh does not slice her mouth four ways from Sunday. She bites down on the tail only to find that the armor lurking beneath the surface of its skin has moved to protect the area where she is. Her weight fails to weigh it down, but she isn't alone for long. The Silver Fang shoots thirty feet into the air, bouncing as high as he can go before landing on the thing's back. The viperine creature slowly begins to sink as the Ahroun tries and fails to sink his claws into its flesh.

Meanwhile, on the ground, the Glass Walker and the Forseti set upon the human attacker. End Transmission tears off his right arm and rips apart his neck, leaving him on his knees and spurting blood on the asphalt. His head detaches from his body a moment later when Broken Hammer jumps on his back and closes his terrible jaws around his neck. They wait a few moments for the horrible monstrosity to sink to the ground, and then they are upon it.

Its tail lashes out at Face of Death, its sharp tentacle-like protrusion bouncing off of her flesh the first time and completely missing the second time. The Ahroun rears back and buries his claws in either side of the thing's back, causing it to throw back its head and screech as it hits the ground, completely filling the street with its bulk. For the next several seconds, Garou after Garou sets upon it with fangs bared, every time coming up against its thick, oscillating armor. End Transmission and Broken Hammer chip away at it, but it isn't until sklora-Myrgen exerts his will and brings forth the holy light of Luna's being that something strange happens.

The creature screams, curling in on itself as though trying to escape from the light. It has no visible eyes, and yet the light is having an adverse affect on the creature: it thrashes, seizes, and then...

... explodes.

Leathery pieces of flesh, gooey green blood and ropey insides splatter the street, cover the warriors and the cars they hide behind. It may take a moment for their eyes to adjust to the light long enough to realize it, but there is a hole left in the earth, and something is climbing out of it.

Face of Death will recognize it as a baby earth squid.
Not just one baby earth squid.
Multiple baby earth squids.

[Reroll inits!]

[Kire] [+7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5

[sklora-Myrgen] [Inits +7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10

[Broken Hammer] +9!
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3

[End Transmission] [+10]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1

[Face of Death] [+9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10

[Null Moon] [Tinky Winky, +6]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8

[Null Moon] [Dipsy, +6]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa, +6]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3

[Null Moon] [Po, +6]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8

[Null Moon] [ROUND THREE -- FIGHT

Joey: 19
sM: 17
Tinky Winky: 14
Dipsy: 14
Po: 14
Daniel: 12
Kire: 12
Echo: 11
Laa Laa: 9

Everyone gains back 1 WP. Yaaaaay!]

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
1a: Bite sM!
1b: Bite sM!]

[End Transmission] [1a. Bite Laa Laa
1b. Bite Laa Laa
1c. Bite Dipsy
R1. Bite Dipsy]

[Kire] [1a. Switched target to Laa Laa and aimed shot; 1b. regular shot]

[Broken Hammer] 1a. follow the leader! bite laa laa!
b. again!
c. once more!
R1. and one more time!

[switching to dipsy if laa laa goes down.]

[Null Moon] [Po
1a:
1b:
R1:

All bites on Daniel, switch to Echo if she goes down.

Dipsy
1a:
1b:
R1:

All bites on Echo, switch to Joey if she goes down.

Tinky Winky
1a:
1b:
R1:

All bites on Joey, switch to Daniel if she goes down.

[sklora-Myrgen] 1a. Bite Tinky
1b. Bite Tinky
1c. Bite Tinky
R1. Bite Tinky!

{change to po if tinky dies}

[Face of Death] [1a: Get behind Tinky Winky
1b: Bite!
1c: Bite!
R: Bite Dipsy]

[Face of Death] [1a: dancin', apparently
[1b: Bite TW! -4]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 5)

[Face of Death] [dam: +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 4, 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Tinky Winky
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Face of Death] [1c: Bite! -5]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 3, 8 (Failure at target 5)

[sklora-Myrgen] [Bite Tinky Winky: 1a. Dex+ Brawl -3, flank attack!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 5, 6, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 4)

[sklora-Myrgen] [Damage: Str +1bite + 2suxx]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 5, 6, 6, 8, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Tinky Winky
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 6, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[sklora-Myrgen] [Bite Tinky Winky: 1a. Dex+ Brawl -4, flank attack!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 4, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 4) Re-rolls: 1

[sklora-Myrgen] [Damage: Str +1bite + 2suxx]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Tinky Winky
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 6, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[sklora-Myrgen] [Bite Tinky Winky: 1a. Dex+ Brawl -5, flank attack!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 3, 9 (Failure at target 4)

[Null Moon] [Tinky Winky
1b: Brawl+Dexterity: Chomp Joey. -4 pool (split/wound penalties).]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 6, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 5)

[Null Moon] [Damage: Strength +2 (bite) +3 (suxx).] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Face of Death] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 6, 6, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Dipsy
1a: Brawl+Dexterity: Chomp Echo! -2 pool (split).]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 4, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 1 at target 5)

[Null Moon] [Damage: Strength +2 (bite) +0.] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[End Transmission] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 5, 7, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Dipsy
1b: Brawl+Dexterity: Chomp Echo! -3 pool (split).]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 6, 8 (Success x 1 at target 5)

[Null Moon] [Damage: Strength +2 (bite) +0.] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 5, 7, 7, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[End Transmission] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Po
1a: Brawl+Dexterity: Chomp Daniel! -2 pool (split).]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 5)

[Null Moon] [Damage: Strength +2 (bite) +2 (suxx).] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 5, 6, 6, 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Po
1b: Brawl+Dexterity: Chomp Daniel! -3 pool (split).]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 6, 7 (Success x 1 at target 5)

[Null Moon] [Damage: Strength +2 (bite) +0.] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] 1a. -3 chomp!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 5)

[Broken Hammer] dam +1
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 7, 7, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 5, 6, 6, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] b. -4
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 6, 8 (Success x 1 at target 5)

[Broken Hammer] damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 5, 6, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 4, 9, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] c. -5
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 7 (Success x 1 at target 5)

[Broken Hammer] mighty nibble!
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 5, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Kire] [1a. aimed shot + 1 - 2]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 5, 6, 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1

[Kire] Kill it
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 4, 4, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Kire] [1b. Regular -3]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Kire] Dieeee
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[End Transmission] [1a. Chomp Laa Laa! -3 Split]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 7 (Success x 2 at target 5)

[End Transmission] [Damage + 2]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[End Transmission] [1b. again!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 10, 10 (Success x 1 at target 5)

[End Transmission] [Damage]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 4, 5, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[End Transmission] [1c. last bite!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 3, 9, 10 (Success x 1 at target 5)

[End Transmission] [Damage]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 5, 5, 7, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Dipsy
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
1a: Brawl+Dexterity: Chomp sM! -3 pool (split/wound penalties).]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 5)

[Null Moon] [Damage: Strength +2 (bite) +2 (suxx).] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[sklora-Myrgen] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 7, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
1b: Brawl+Dexterity: Chomp sM! -4 pool (split/wound penalties).]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 4, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 5)

[Null Moon] [Damage: Strength +2 (bite) +2 (suxx).] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[sklora-Myrgen] {soak!}
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Face of Death] [R1: Bite Dipsy!, diff -1 for hot flanking action]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 4, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 4)

[Face of Death] [damage: +5]
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 3, 4, 6, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Dipsy
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 5, 5, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[sklora-Myrgen] {bite!}
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 10 at target 4) Re-rolls: 2

[sklora-Myrgen] [Damage: Str +1 buite +NINE SUXXMUGDSNFUSFNAHS!!!]
Dice Rolled:[ 17 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Tinky Winky
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 5, 8, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Po
R1: Brawl+Dexterity: Chomp Daniel!]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 4, 6, 7, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 5) [WP]

[Null Moon] [Damage: Strength +2 (bite) +4 (suxx).] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] R1. bite!
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 4, 4, 5, 8, 9 (Failure at target 5)

[End Transmission] [R1: Bite!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 4, 4, 6, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 5)

[End Transmission] [Damage + 1]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Dipsy
Nooo I want to liiiive!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 6, 6, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Damage Tally

Daniel: 6A
Echo: 4A
Joey: 1A
Kire: OK
sM: 2A

Tinky Winky: Dead
Dipsy: Incap
Laa Laa: 1L/2A
Po: OK

Daniel, Echo, Joey, sM receive +1 Rage.

ROUND FOUR -- FINISH THEM

Joey
sM
Po
Daniel
Kire
Echo
Laa Laa]

[Null Moon]

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
1:
R1:
R2:

All bites on Daniel.]

[End Transmission] [Echo:
1a. Mother's Touch Daniel
1b. Bite Po!]

[Kire] [1a. Running up closer; 1b. shooting Laa Laa]

[Broken Hammer] 1a. Toss a Gaia's Breath on Echo, -1Gn, +4HP
b. chomp Po
c. chomp Po

[Null Moon] [Po
1a:
1b:
R1:

All bites on Daniel.]

[sklora-Myrgen] [1a. Po
1b. Po
Rage 1 :aa :aa
Rage 2 :aa :aa

All bites]

[Face of Death] [1a:
1b:
1c: +WP on last
R1: all bites on Po!]

[Face of Death] [1a: Chomp Po: -3]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 5, 9 (Success x 1 at target 5)

[Face of Death] [dam: +0]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 4, 4, 4, 6, 6, 6, 6, 7, 9 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Po
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 5, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Face of Death] [1b: Chomp Po: -4]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2 (Botch x 2 at target 5)

[Null Moon]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3

[Face of Death] [dam: +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 7, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[End Transmission] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Face of Death] [1c: Chomp Po! -5 +WP]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 4, 7 (Success x 2 at target 5) [WP]

[Face of Death] [dam: +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Po
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 4, 4, 5 (Failure at target 6)

[sklora-Myrgen] [Bite -2]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 5)

[sklora-Myrgen] {damage +1}
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 5, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[sklora-Myrgen] [1a. bite laa laa]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 5) Re-rolls: 1

[sklora-Myrgen] [damage +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 4, 5, 9, 9, 10 (Failure at target 6)

[sklora-Myrgen] [Bite 2 -3]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 1 at target 5) Re-rolls: 2

[sklora-Myrgen] [Damage]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 5, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] 1a. +4HP to Echo!
b. chomp! -3
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 5 (Failure at target 5)

[Broken Hammer] c. -4!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 7, 10 (Failure at target 5) Re-rolls: 1

[Broken Hammer] [WHAT THE FUCK.]

[Kire] [1a. run, Forrest, run.]

[Kire] [1b. shooting Laa Laa in the fucking face diff 4 from range -3]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 7, 7 (Success x 1 at target 4)

[Kire] [Dam(n)]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 5, 5, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
Tee hee!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 5, 5, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[End Transmission] [1a. Mother's Touch on Daniel vs Rage 1 (-2 Split) + WP]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 5, 5, 8, 10 (Success x 6 at target 1) [WP]

[End Transmission] [1b. Bite! -3 Split]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 7, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 5)

[End Transmission] [Damage + 3]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 5, 7, 7, 8, 8, 8, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 8 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Po
Nooo I want to liiiive!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 5, 9, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
1: Brawl+Dexterity: Chomp Daniel! -1 pool (wound penalties).]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 5 at target 5) [WP]

[Null Moon] [Damage: Strength +2 (bite) +4 (suxx).] [A]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 5, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 5, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Face of Death] [R1: Bite Laa Laa!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 3, 5, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 5)

[Face of Death] [dam: +3]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 5, 5, 6, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
Tee hee!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 4, 5, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[sklora-Myrgen] [Bite Laa Laa]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 5 at target 5)

[sklora-Myrgen] [Damage!]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 4, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
Nooo I want to liiiive!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 5, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[sklora-Myrgen] [Bite Laa Laa]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 6, 7 (Success x 1 at target 5)

[sklora-Myrgen] {damage}
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 4, 6, 6, 6, 7 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Laa Laa
Nooo I want to liiive!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Null Moon] [Final Damage Tally

Dan: 1A
Echo: 3A
Joey: 1A
Kire: OK
sM: 2A]

[Broken Hammer] [thanks! i'm too braindead! dan will halp with cleanup.]

[Fabienne Bartelle] *The shine and glimmer of the magnificent mile was at its most deceptive tonight. A half moon hung low in the sky, Luna's glowing face reflected across glass giants whenever heavy clouds part in the wind. Winter is struggling to maintain its icy hold on the city, as warmer air moves in, sidewalks slushy, ice slick. Fabienne is returning home, log legged strides eating up the distance as she moves with purpose and measured grace. Home. Home. To the safety and simplicity of her own home. Her private residence. The thought still brought a thrill at the sheer novelty of it. She's wrapped in a bone colored chenille dress, a pale rose cashmere sweater-trench warding off the cold. A deceptively delicate hand rests on her collar, carefully keeping track of a diamond pendant.*

[Broken Hammer] It's a different kind of grace that marks the figure coming toward Fabienne. Swifter, feral, lightfooted, as though he carried his weight largely on the balls of his feet as an animal does. Broken Hammer doesn't walk so much as he strides. Long limbs. Narrow, lean frame, even with his arms folded across his chest for warmth, hands tucked under biceps.

He raises his head when he sees Fabienne, like a wolf scenting something interesting. Quite dark, his eyes, and very direct. He doesn't alter course.

[Fabienne Bartelle] *Fabienne is not as observant as some. Wary, but certain recent developments had left her at a disadvantage when noting what was occurring around her. A blonde party boy staggers across the street, glutted on the pleasures of the mile, inebriated and cocksure. He yells something rude across the street as the silverfang kin waits at a light. Fabienne either doesn't hear him, or ignores him entirely. Anatomy referenced none of the drunks concern. The subtle undercurrent of rage approaching her is what puts her on edge, darws her head up, eyes wide and seaching. As lean and graceful as a doe scenting a predator, and so she has, grey eyes lifting to the Fenrir. She dips her head, a hand raised in hello to the tense-cheeked Forseti, even as the blonde across the street warbles something inappropriate and incomprehensible.*

[Broken Hammer] Correction: his eyes don't stay fixed on the kinswoman after all. The first shout snaps the Forseti's eyes leftward. 'Some' would include Broken Hammer. There are few wolves in this entire city so alert, so sharp of eye and ear, as he.

The strap of muscle in his cheek, taut and visible even under the best of circumstances, pulls tighter still. His head swings back, something heavy and animal in the gesture, the neck moving as well as the skull, and he continues toward Fabienne. Closer now, close enough to literally scent her breeding, mad kings and white wolves, so he lets his teeth part, breathes through his mouth instead, as though this would help.

Another shout, rankling on his nerves. Waxing half moon tonight: justice, righteousness. Not quite his moon but close enough. Broken Hammer stops short, turns, snaps. "Watch your mouth!"

[Fabienne Bartelle] *Helped by Broken Hammer's sudden shift of attention, the aristocratic kin turns her head, grey gaze finding the belligerent college kid in time to see him go pale and duck back into the pub he'd stumbled out of. Fleeing in shock. When she regards Daniel once more, its with an eyebrow raised in question, every inch noble incredulity. Infuriatingly proper as she raises her chin, too easy to picture in jodhpurs atop a wet flanked thoroughbred, or at the head of a formal dinner. Her lineage lending a allure her demeanor did not.*

Broken Hammer.

[Broken Hammer] He doesn't even shout like men do. The emphasis is all wrong. Every word was stressed and short, like three quick barks in a row. When the boy blanches and backs down, the Forseti licks the edge of his bared teeth viciously.

The kinswoman addresses his profile. He turns back, distracted by his own quickflaring anger. Weren't the Half Moons supposed to be the balanced ones? Levelheaded. Cool in judgment. Broken Hammer is tightly controlled, tightly wound, but there's an instability at the core. "What," he snaps, as though expecting her to berate him for shouting. Isn't that what all the kin of Chicago do? Berate their betters.

[Fabienne Bartelle] *The man - or more appropriately, this evening - the wolf bares his teeth and snaps at her. Facial muscles pulsing and tense, Forseti's entire form like thick gauge cable drawn too tight. It strikes a chord that has Fabienne stepping backwards, tenseness contagious, wariness settling like a familiar shawl about her shoulders. Her lips are moistened nervously, before she clears her throat with a sharp rasp, eyes shut a moment before she addresses the creature in front of her, saying simply. *

I had intended only to wish you good evening, rhya. I hadn't meant to interrupt. Did you know that gentleman?

*The honorific is a quick rough noise in her throat, a human approximation of an animal sound. Nothing like the wail that rises thinly over the hum and rush of evening traffic. Then another. Yet another joins the muted cacaphony, and another still, screeching voices lifting in terrible unison, even as the first begins to falter, and falls silent. Past Fabienne, in the dead end alley just beyond the silverfang kinfolk, the cries begin to drop off, inhuman. Feline. Tortured.*

[Broken Hammer] "No."

Beneath his battered layers of old hoodies, the Forseti's chest rises and falls with a sharp breath. Another; then he bites back his temper. Literally. The corner of his jaw flexes, releases.

"I apologize."

There might've been more. There's not. There's a screech instead -- the Forseti's head snaps up again, and turns. His expression grows sharp, alert, like a hound scenting the fox. Torturing cats? No end to human depravity. Without another word he starts toward the alley.

[Fabienne Bartelle] No apology necessary, I -

*Then he's off. Moving towards the mouth of the alley. There. In the mirrored space between two skyscrapers. A gangly figure stoops in the long shadows of the corner, headlights of passing cars flashing twofold in warped reflection. Several small cat carriers are strewn about the alley, the lanky stranger dipping to a crouch over something at his feet. Fabienne purses her lips and moves after the Fenrir, ignorant of the faint wailing of cats in agony, unable to hear the weak hissing and yowling of dying felines. She strides several steps behind Broken hammer, assuming their conversation was simply delayed. A guttural chuckle issues forth from the crouching creature in the alley, echoing between two impassive sentinels made of glass and iron, and one of flesh and bone and righteous blood-lust.*

[Broken Hammer] It's not that Broken Hammer is much of a catlover. He's not an animal person, ironic as that may be. He doesn't care very much for the welfare of small furry things, or even of humans. He does not have his Alpha's concern for human life, for protection, for nurturing.

What he does have is a loathing for the perversions of humanity. For the twistedness of a race that's grown apart from its instinct, from moderation, from the reflexive understanding that you take what you need and you leave what you don't. That's an aversion hammered into him so early and so often that it's not entirely clear whether it comes from what he was, where he grew up and how -- or if it's simply who he is.

Broken Hammer. Righteous. Wrathful.

He doesn't say anything; no warning shots. No get lost or what are you doing or get away from those poor animals you sick freak. Nothing of the sort. Not even a snarl. He just starts forward, sturdy boots clomping across melted ice puddles and dirty snow, and when he's within a single strideslength

he kicks the man, viciously, the steel toe of his boot aimed for the soft spot under the breastbone without so much as a hitch in his stride.

[Fabienne Bartelle] [fabienne init! +7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1

[Fabienne Bartelle] [gorepup +6]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1

[Broken Hammer] +7!
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] [straight str+1 damage!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 5, 5, 7, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Fabienne Bartelle] [soaketh!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 7, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Fabienne Bartelle] *Fabienne had not been expecting that. Her hand flies to her mouth in shock at the sudden brutality of her companion on a harmless transient. Wait. Cats writhe in the slush, hot blood melting the snow beneath their wriggling. nail riddled bodies, weakened mewling reaching even the silverfang kin's damaged ears. An audible gasp escapes her lips as the wretch in the corner doubles over, then turns a scarred and leering face towards the alley mouth, bloody warpaint dripping from his leathery brow as he shakes off the kick and begins to rise to his full height. Fists clench as he makes to advance, spiked with painful looking barbed protrusions.*

{order of init - slowest declares first yadda yadda}
Dan
Fab - Back to mouth of alley in alarm. reach for mace.
GorePup - Punch that guy what spoiled my funz

[Broken Hammer] There's more resistance there than he expected. Far more. Broken Hammer expected the give of soft flesh, the crunch of ribs and breastbone; the brief palpable thud of the heartmuscle behind those fragile human bones.

What he gets, instead, is a chest wall as solid as a slab of wood. His foot rebounds back, but his balance is deft and quick, nearly undisturbed. Now his feet are planted wide apart, ready.

"Stay with me. Shout if humans approach."

That's for Fabienne, though his eyes don't leave the ugly thing. And those are the last human words out of his mouth. In another second all semblance of humanity drops from him. The rawboned Forseti suddenly gains half a foot of height; eighty pounds of mass. His clothing barely contains him. A previously narrow frame is suddenly heavy with muscle, heavy with bone. Whatever he may have been named for, the weapon that drops into his hand is an ugly, brutish thing: a heavy cast-iron pry-bar.

He swings the hooked end as the man steps into range.

[1R - Glabro!
1a. De-dedicate prybar!
b. Whack!
R1. Whack harder!]

[Broken Hammer] 1b. dex/brawl, -2 dice. Lethal-club!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4 (Failure at target 5)

[Fabienne Bartelle] [fabienne - moves!]
[Gorey's turn! I'ma punch yew! {dex/brawl}]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Fabienne Bartelle] [damages! + for barbs!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 6, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] (ow! soak!)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 6, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] For the record, 1b should've been 3 dice, not 4. It's second split, so -3. Not gonna reroll since it failed!

R1. Bash!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] Damage: Str+1(weapon)+2(glabro)+1(totem)+1(succ) lethal!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Fabienne Bartelle] [ow! I soak that!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 6, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Fabienne Bartelle] *Fabienne is already falling back to the alley's mouth, hand in her clutch as she half turns. None too eager to fully give her back to what was unfolding between the mirrored buildings. Mace grasped in one hand, she splits her attention between the busy downtown street and the alley behind her. Broken Hammer gains bulk in an instant, skin impossibly tight over fast twitch muscle as he makes to cleave in the laughing wyrm-thing's face in with a crowbar, over, and over, to no avail. The cat murderer has little more luck, a sloppy punch opening a deep cut along the Fenrir's cheekbone, bloody, but little more. The flash of headlights paints them all in stop motion for half an instant before it passes, gorepup grinning toothily, shallow eyes just now finding Fabienne past Broken Hammer's shoulder.*

[Fab- DODGE!]
[Gorepup -1. punch BH
R1. tackle fabs]

[Broken Hammer] Now he's angry. With a short, sharp snarl Broken Hammer flings aside the crowbar. Useless! It clatters against the brick wall, clamors to the ground. By the time it stills, the near-man is a near-wolf, dappled grey and black and white, leaping at the fomor.

[1R - hispo! 1WP - Resist Pain!
1a. Bite punching arm!
b. Simple bite!
R1. Bite again!]

[Broken Hammer] 1a. -2! dex+brawl+2(hispo), diff +2 (targeted)
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 6, 8, 8, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 5 at target 7)

[Broken Hammer] Damage: Str+2(teef)+3(hispo)+1(totem)+4(succ)!
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 7 at target 6)

[Fabienne Bartelle] [I'ma soak that...]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 6, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] [arrrgh i forgot to split again! -2 damage off that one!]

1b. -3 dice!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 6 at target 5)

[Broken Hammer] Damage, +5 this time!
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Fabienne Bartelle] [I said.. I'ma SOAK that]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 5, 5, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Fabienne Bartelle] [gore pup! ow! I'ma punch you anyway! -5]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4 (Success x 1 at target 6) [WP]

[Fabienne Bartelle] [ahem. Adding Str this time to damage..heh. +2 barbs]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 4, 6, 10 (Failure at target 6)

[Broken Hammer] R1. Chomp!
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 3, 4, 8, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 5)

[Broken Hammer] Damage +1!
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 8 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[Fabienne Bartelle] [I'ma.. soak..that?]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 8, 8 (Failure at target 6)

[Fabienne Bartelle] *A mottled grey wolf boils into the narrow space of the alley, blocking the deviant's passage to the kin, a dangerous barrier. Teeth flash sharp and savage, stripping flesh from bone with a snap of teeth. The direwolf's mouth descends again, coming away with a leathery chunk of flesh and little more. The ghoul faced murderer wasn't expecting this turn of events, the delicate crush of the slender woman's flesh under his boots forgotten as he lashes out with a spiked fist, force lost somewhere in the mountain of fur that ends his tainted existence with one more lightning fast stab of wicked teeth. Fangs break through the creatures ribcage and a scream burbles on his lips, not of terror, but of venomous Rage, rasping into breathless nothing. Fabienne too shouts from the alley's mouth, face stricken. Someone was approaching.*

[Broken Hammer] Blood everywhere. Blood on his face, blood on his teeth, blood in his mouth, sour and foul. The kinswoman shouts -- fear? His mind is an animal's, savage and relentless and merciless; his first thought is weak, PREY, but -- no. Not fear. Someone's approaching. Concentrate, focus.

He needs to get out of here. He needs to get rid of the remnant, the body.

Snapshift: the last of his Rage curling away. Crinos now. "Come here." It's a grating, growling command, and whether she steps toward him or not, he's picking up the tattered gorehound in one massive handpaw. Then he's beckoning at her again, impatient. "Come. Up."

Fabienne has a choice here: she can either choose to climb on the Forseti's back, or he'll throw her over his shoulder like the gorehound.

[Fabienne Bartelle] *Fear threads through the crisp voice of the curly haired blond, but purpose as well. She's not shrieking in mindless terror, she's raising the alarm, eyes down the street. Focussed on the crowd outside a nightclub, just now taking sincere interest in the ruckus over yonder. A growl rumbles from the Fenrir's throat with all the ominous rumble of a active volcano, her head whipping around, fear spiking the air electric. Crinos. He was growling at her in warform. Her chin lifts and she steps back, hand finding her throat as her pulse jumps. Anubis, Ragnorak, this was a form that stirred deep ancestral memory in any human, only the blood of wolves keeping her from falling to madness at the mere sight of him. He beckons again. Impatient. His meaning becoming clear. Once understanding dawns in pale eyes, her choice is obvious. She makes up for lost time with swiftness, hands gripping to fur as she holds tightly, if awkwardly to Broken Hammer, face buried in the ruff of fur at the back of his neck by necessity, rather than design.*

[Broken Hammer] She might think he'll run somewhere now. Or possibly climb the building.

He jumps.

It's a flat-out leap that takes him straight up, straight into the air, a dizzying height that humans couldn't dream of. At the apex of the jump Broken Hammer digs his claws into the side of the building, concrete crumbling beneath talons, falling down to pitterpatter on the alley floor. Step by step, paw by paw, he climbs then -- not to the top of the towering skyscraper but only so far as an enormous digital sign that blazes Coca Cola commercials silently, day and night.

There's a palpable heat from all the wiring, all the lights. Broken Hammer ducks in behind it, into the shadow. Feet braced on the struts and crosslinks that bolt the sign to the side of the building, he sets Fabienne down first, his dead friend down second.

A moment later he's homid again. He looks monstrous, bloody. He crouches, silent. Composed, actually, calm and alert now, watching the alley some seven or eight stories below. He doesn't seem rattled at the close call. He's done this before.

[Fabienne Bartelle] *Its perhaps a good thing the spoiled silverfang kin jumped horses in her leisure time. She does in fact expect Broken Hammer to climb the sky scraper. To climb quickly in fact. But she feels the coiling of muscles beneath her and reacts immediately, thighs tensing around the strange broad muscles of a Crinos back, her body pressing close to cut down on drag. She doesn't scream or gasp into thick fur as they launch into the night air, the only sound from her is that of a high heel snapping as she's set down awkwardly. The metallic rattle of the bolted metal she grabs to steady herself as she takes off her shoes. Fabienne looks.. well.. disheveled. Sweater slightly bloody, covered in stray grey tufts. Not nearly so calm as Broken Hammer, who's crouched, eerily at ease, basking in the warmth of the sign as though nothing had happened. She smooths her dress reflexively. As he watches the alley, Fabienne watches him.*

[Broken Hammer] "Get down," he murmurs. His eyes never leave the alley. The man has incredible perception, incredible peripheral vision -- a near-absolute awareness of his surroundings at all times.

He's not particularly large or strong. He's quick and deft, and that's a point in his favor. But without Bear, he's only as strong as your average human on the street; weak, for a Fenrir. When her knees pressed against his sides, she could feel his ribs beneath a lean, taut layer of muscle. Fur and skin and bone and muscle, and that was it. No waste, almost no insulating fat. A pared-down, wiry creature, not nearly so broad or massive as most his breed and tribe.

His alertness, though: that's his greatest asset. That and his quick, cunning, hunter's mind, with its thoughts so alien sometimes that most don't believe he's truly born of man.

"Don't fall," he adds.

The dead gorehound is draped over a cross-strut. Blood is still seeping slowly from its torn throat, wicks down its clothes, drips off the hems, the tips of its fingers.

[Fabienne Bartelle] *Fabienne does just that, crouching low. Without her heels, balance was nothing of an issue, lean athletes body well suited to the task at hand. Deceptively delicate hands grasp a sign strut, voices filling the alley from below. Its dark between the buildings, and while a splash of blood still dribbling down a mirror is examined with wonderment, there is little else to draw the imagination of the small crowd of party-goers who'd broke place in line to check out the noise. Those below them had no idea that a few stories away, a werewolf crouched with a corpse, watching them from his perch like a feral alleycat with a dead rat in its claws. Fabienne winces at the image, watching in interest as she grows more comfortable with the situation. Best not to think how they were getting down.*

[Broken Hammer] The sign shudders faintly in the wind, which is frigid cold, a sharp counterpoint to the warmth leaking from the lights. Broken Hammer doesn't move, crouched calm and waiting, breathing evenly and slowly. Below, the humans poke around, exclaim over a splash of blood, laugh, leave.

Broken Hammer's eyes glint faintly in the dark as he turns to the kinswoman. "You're very brave," he says, too softly for her bad ears to catch. Perhaps she can read it in the dim, changing lights leaking from around the rivets and screws on the back of the sign. "That's a rare thing in kin not of Fenris."

He straightens to his feet, smoothly, silently, inspecting the surroundings. The sign is bolted onto two concrete pylons, but stretches across a span of glass. When it went up, someone's already shitty alley view became an even shitter back-of-sign view. Convenient for Daniel, though.

"I need to dispose of the body," he continues. "If I break this window, can you get out of the building without arousing suspicion?"

[Fabienne Bartelle] *Its a strange thing, being trapped in so alien an environment, with a beast that was familiar and dangerous at the same time. Dove grey eyes have been watching Broken Hammer with an openness that wasn't altogether polite. A curiosity the slender kin either cannot, or doesn't bother to mask. He speaks. She doesn't hear it, so much as watch thin lips and pick up the gist from there. Though staring at a person's lips was impolite. Dreadfully so. Her own form the ghost of a smile, before she replies quietly, turning to look at glass with a roll of narrow shoulders.*

I prefer prudent. Bravery often lends itself to undue pride. Which lends itself to recklessness.

*As the lack of hearing in her left side is proof of. She was a strange creature to be sure. Atypical. A kin, a Silverfang kin, no less, blood that sang promises of mystics and warriors, ivory wolves, strong children, inherent nobility - who despite her breeding, doesn't dazzle with charm or shy from conflict, no gilded lily despite her every right to be. Thin eyebrows pull together in a muted frown, before she looks back to Broken Hammer. Considering their options.*

If an alarm should go off?

[Broken Hammer] Her frown reflects on his face; the first hitch in his otherwise glassy calm. It's as though with his rage expended, taken out on a just target, he's at last achieved the sort of balance that his auspice is meant to embody. This, though: this is an unexpected flaw in the plan, something that he did not and could not have accounted for. Death-justice is much easier without a kin in tow.

He weighs, balances, considers the possibility of an alarm, or worse, a silent alarm; considers the possibility of bystanders, idle eyes. Looks down, thinks of how quickly he could climb to the bottom; how safe it is to leave the body hanging, dripping.

"We climb, then," he decides, and deciding, puts his hands to the concrete pylon

and is a monster in a second or two. Not an rageshift, but something rarer than that: a true shapeshifting, swift and practiced, alluding to a primal nature that escapes most homidborn Garou.

He leaves the body where it is, but growls at her again to hold to him. She doesn't understand or hear this any better than she did in the alley. His English is so mutated in this form that even with her hearing intact she would be hardpressed to comprehend.

[Fabienne Bartelle] *A cool grey gaze settles on him as the garou shifts with little effort into his mottled war-form. Unabashed. Taking in the transformation with interest. Her sure footed approach measured. Fluid. A woman as comfortable in her skin as the great Fenrir seemed to be in all of his. The swiftness of her approach alluding nothing to her familiarity with Garou in their various furry forms. It would surprise many to know that Fabienne has seen a crinos werewolf now just three times in her 20 short years. Those wolves had been white like the snow that remains unmelted at the edge of the concrete overhang, not the dappled grey of the creature whose fur she now buries her hands in. Her dress is light, caught to snap in a gust of wind before she presses close, and there's no room for it to do so any longer. A cultured voice speaks quietly by an overlarge ear.*

We can climb.

*Concise. To the point. And perhaps most amazingly, calm.*

[Broken Hammer] In this form, the great beast's breathing is audible and palpable, both: a quiet deep huffing, and a slow expand and contract of his massive ribcage. Fabienne is an equestrienne, as all good European Fang kin should be expected to be, but this is only very distantly similar to that. The back is far broader, for one, sharply winging outward from a relatively lean waist, expanding to massive shoulders. The fur is thick and deep, for another, and her hands nearly disappear into his ruff. The posture is upright rather than quadripedal.

And most importantly: horses don't do things like jump off buildings.

Which is what he does, rather than climbing sedately down. They don't have time for that. He might've climbed slower if they were going up, but then she'd have to figure out a way down from the rooftop and anyway he was leaving the body where it was and he doesn't want bystanders to walk by and catch a crinos climbing down a building and run screaming into the street.

So he drops. In great bounds, fifteen or twenty feet at a time, the Forseti plummets down the side of the building, stopping his descent each time by digging his claws into concrete. Building renovators are going to be puzzled as hell by the chunks missing every floor-and-a-half. It takes him seconds to get to the alley floor, though, and when he's there he crouches to let her down.

The beast exhales once, a deep resonant sort of chuff of breath that perhaps meant something between Garou, but means nothing at all to Fabienne. He looks to the street, and back.

"Go home." Rumbling words; perhaps he hasn't figured out she can't understand him like this yet. "I explain. To Fang elder."

[Fabienne Bartelle] [dear god Fabbie, hold ON = str ath]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 6, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6) [WP]

[Fabienne Bartelle] It would be a lie to say she's entirely comfortable with their descent. Her calm is all but obliterated about the time curled talons take chinks out of concrete in a hasty attempt to slow their fall. Make no mistake, its a fall. The jumping was a mere second of force propelling them into the air. It was gravity that was tugging them to the alley floor, like it or not. Her thighs clamp tight. Strong, used to leg reigning over jumps. Hands curled tight in Broken Hammer's fur, she doesn't just hold on, she accommodates his jumping so as to be as little of a hindrance as possible. A gasp never-the-less escapes her lips, muffled by a thick grey ruff as they land with a jarring thud on the alley floor. As much as it seems like a viable means of locomotion for them, Fabienne seems all too happy to dismount the Fenrir and step down onto solid ground. Barefoot. Her broken heels are still somewhere on the 8th floor. She presses a hand to her throat, fingers lingering over a rapid fluttering pulse. She'd bring up her mistake in a moment, but right now he was attempting to communicate with her. She tilts her head, but it does nothing to help her understand words that are barely words at their clearest. There is a long moment where the Silverfang kin simply watches the creature in front of her, waiting for a visual indication of what he's said, before she drops her eyes. Clearing her throat before speaking.*

Broken Hammer. I regret, I have recently lost a good deal of my hearing, and I'm having great difficulty understanding you. Also... I do hate to bring this up, and I do apologize, but... my shoes are still with the body.

*Grey eyes dart from the alley floor to the Fenrir.*

[Broken Hammer] A short growl of irritation escapes him, like a mutter of discontent. Right before her eyes, his body warps, shrinks. In near-man, he repeats himself, guttural but intelligible now:

"I said go home. I'll explain this to the Fang Elder after I'm rid of the body." A pause. "I'll throw your shoes down. Call for a taxi."

He doesn't wait for a response. He grows into his largest form, gathers his feet under him, leaps again. From a ground perspective, the height of his jump is even more surreal. He's far above her when he latches onto the side of the building. Without carrying two bodies, one alive and the other dead, and without worrying about the former falling to her death, the Forseti is that much faster. In seconds he vanishes behind the sign where the dead thing is stowed.

A few seconds later, two objects drop from behind the sign. They grow rapidly larger; one thumps to a snowbank. The other clangs loudly off the top of a dumpster.

Daniel does, after all, keep his word. But the other heel has likely snapped off her shoes.

[Fabienne Bartelle] I'll do that rhya. It has been an interesting evening.

Thank you.

*For what is uncertain. She may be thanking the dour Forseti for agreeing to get her shoes, speaking to Katherine, for the "interesting" evening... or perhaps more likely, thanking him for not dwelling on the reason for him needing to repeat himself. He's irritated, as well he should be. She's rather irritated with herself as well to be honest. A lack of planning on her part was causing undue delays. Granted, she was worried more about theriding of a werewolf off a building than her Jimmy Choos at the time of her oversight. Still, it disappointed. Broken Hammer scales the building like something out of a science fiction movie, and Fabienne attempts to disguise her astonishment by dialing a cab at the same time, tinny beeping of her cell strangely surreal as in the mirrored confines of the alley. Shoes rain from the heavens, gathered up with little attention paid to the broken heels save to find them so they could not become evidence when the body was found by some unfortunate window washer. Broken Hammer clearly not returning with anything further, the slender fencer finds herself a cab and makes her way to the safety of her home to ruminate on the events of the night.*

[Moira Murray] Leyna's colorful choice of words brings both of Moira's eyebrows up, rising high to disappear under the sweep of bangs. She clears her throat a second time, flicking blue eyes between the older and younger woman. Her head turns, one hand dropping away her face as the other remains curled against her cheek to keep it propped.

Leyna produces a gift, and Moira's eyes fall to the box, following its exchange from one kin to the other. She says nothing in response to the conversation - offering up very little as she realizes there isn't much association she has done with them. A change of topic, regarding Izzy curiously. "Why did you vote for me at the last meeting?"

[Moira Murray] (*woman=women)

[Leyna Stidolph] Leyna gives Izzy a nod, "Strength, Courage, Healing, Attainment and Purification." She shrugs her shoulders slightly. "I was going through some of my stuff and I found my pendants. I thought you needed Uruz more than I did." Leyna would have brought something for Moira if she would have known the other kin would have been here.

She just then smiles and lets Moira take the conversation... Leyna felt like she contributed enough for the moment.

[Izzy Montoya] She nods, slightly, and then thanks Leyna again. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

Then, Moira asks a question, and finds Izzy's gaze - not exactly a comfortable thing, as it is direct, perceptive, probing - on her for a long moment. The answer, though, is relatively simple. "I didn't know the other woman - Gina? - and by her disheveled appearance she did not seem the type who could oversee much of anything." A beat, and then the simple truth. "But mostly because John speaks highly of you."

[Moira Murray] "John." The name comes out across her lips in a sigh of confused emotion. She meets Izzy's gaze, practically matching it under the direct, perceptive probing - one she has grown used to handling when dealing with Izzy's male counterpart. "John would speak highly of me." The smile on her mouth tugs a little more fondly as her eyes crinkle up. "How is he? I haven't seen him in a few weeks. I have been too distracted with other things to even keep up with him."

She swings her gaze back to Leyna for a moment, grinning sheepishly as she settles back against in the chair. "Have you gotten back into blacksmithing at all or just bumming around the Eagle's pack house?"

[Leyna Stidolph] She had no idea what the other two women were talking about, but it didn't hurt to listen and watch them interact with one another. Perhaps she could pick up a few behavior mannerisms on how normal people interacted with one another? Anything was possible. Though their voices seemed to trail in and out of her hearing, like Leyna was in a tunnel.

She could feel her fingertips numbing slightly, leaving a fuzziness. She did not do this often, though she was starting to wonder why.

She looked over at Moira raising her fine brow. "Uhhh..." It took her a moment for her brain to fire on all cylinders. "Bumming around still.." She admitted with a light sigh. "Been looking for work though. I have a few applications put out at the steel mills... I doubt blacksmithing will be something I will be able to do." Not with money running out. "Time to face reality... without support from the local Garou I am screwed." She chuckled. "Ah well.." She shrugged, cheerfully blowing it off. "C'est la vie."

[Izzy Montoya] How is John? "Working too hard, sleeping too little." As always - which is very much the same that could be said about Izzy. She relents, slightly. "but he's fine. I'll tell him you asked." Subtle there, the underlying comment that suggests Izzy will speak to John before Moira does. It's not something conscious, or even sharp - just an acknowledgment that she sees him on a daily basis - despite the wish of the Jarl to keep them apart. It's amazing how many reasons they can find to meet for 'work' purposes...

Then the attention turns back to Leyna, and it is Izzy's turn to simply listen. Though it's likely looking to Izzy for anything close to 'normal' interaction, is probably not the right way to go.

[Moira Murray] Moira nods her head to Izzy, knowing that she is likely to see John before she will, given their professions. She draws a hand up to her throat, fingers toying absently with a leather knotwork pendant she wears on a shiny chain, fingertips memorizing the details that had gone into the handiwork. It turns her thoughts toward the necklace Leyna just gave Izzy.

"Do you make pendants like that often?" She focuses on Leyna now, blue eyes brightening up with some half-formed idea that was slowly blossoming to life at such a late hour.

[Leyna Stidolph] Izzy and Moira were by the far... the most normal people Leyna had ever met. Really.

"I used too." She said to Moira. "I used to make all sorts of jewelery." Leyna crinkled her brow, thinking back to when she first started making jewelry as a side project. Her brother made fun of her for it...

She raised her brow at Moira.. eying the other kin curiously. "Why?"

[Izzy Montoya] She remains quiet, and simply finishes her beer, before she stands to go to the bar for another. She doesn't return with just her own, though - she leaves another $20 under the till, and grabs a beer for each of the other kin as well. The bartender is well used to her running tab at this point.

She pops the tops, then returns to take her seat again, sliding a beer across the table to each of the girls across from her, and listens to their talk of jewelry. They'd likely be shocked to know Izzy has a girly side at all, and she doesn't let them in on the fact, either.

[Moira Murray] "I'm not in school anymore. What work I do for Hill House is mundane at best... and I have quite a bit of money put away in savings, which means I live like a college student on very little money." She shakes her head, still playing with the pendant, "I trying to find a new business venture. After solving the Resurrection Mary ordeal, I had considered Paranormal Investigation, but lacked a Scooby-Doo team."

She shrugs her shoulders, "Just an afterthought, if you still had access to a shop. I would have considered applying your skill to making something for me."

[Leyna Stidolph] "Thanks." She said to Izzy when the woman brought back a beer, giving Izzy a smile. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small note pad and mechanical pencil after Moira finished talking.

She placed her thumb on the eraser and clicked it twice and flipped open the notebook which was filled with all sorts of designs and templates Leyna had been putting together for the past couple years. She found a clean page and looked at Moira. "What would you want made?" It was very direct. She might not have access to a forge... but that doesn't mean Leyna couldn't aspire for something in the future.

"And Izzy, if there would be anything I could make for you, you just let me know. Okay?"

[Izzy Montoya] She nods, slightly - but remains quiet, and watches the two work on the design.

[Moira Murray] Something sparkles in Moira's eyes as she sits up immediately. She reaches for the beer bottle that Izzy slid her way, lets it rest on the table before her as she leans in to look over at Leyna's drawings. That fact that her idea could actually come to life brings a new set of possibilities.

"How good are you at weapons?" The question comes out of nowhere. "Like something a Garou could actually use if they favored using weapons in their other forms?"

[Leyna Stidolph] She raised a brow at Moira, "I am a weaponsmith. Jewelry is just a side hobby." She said to the other kin as a smirk slowly curled on her lips. "I can make anything from Halberds to Claymores, however I won't do shurikens again." She said shaking her head. "Not after the ninja rotgar." She cringed slightly at the memory of Ray. Never again!

She reached down into her boot and pulled up one of her bowie knives, by her own design. "Now... I know this is not the size you are looking for. When I lived in France, that is what I did. I made weapons for the Garou... especially for fighting in other forms." She explained as she twirled the black steel and hilt with full tang in the palm of her hand. "However this will give you a glimpse to my craft." She flips the blade in her hand, holding the hilt towards Moira.

"You will notice the steel is extremely light and flexible without giving up it's durability. I won't go into the metallurgy mumbo jumbo.." She snickered, most people didn't get it. "Go ahead, just feel for yourself."

[Daniel] It's late, well past midnight, when the back door of the Brotherhood slams open. Coming in from the bitter cold, shivering in his inadequate clothing and unashamed of his body's natural reaction to hypothermia, one hard-hewn, wasteless weapon of a Forseti.

Passing through the kitchen, he grabs a late plate set out by the staff. No utensils. By the time he comes through the swinging doors he's eating, scooping food ravenously from the plate and into his mouth with his fingers.

There's blood on his face, blood on his clothes. His rage, usually so sharp, feels dimmed; but his eyes are savage, wholly inhuman, staring like an animal's.

By the time he drops his plate on the bar next to Izzy, all the meat is gone. Some vegetables remain. There's a slice of pie too: dessert. He thinks for a moment and then picks that up too, devouring it without bothering to savor it, eating for the sake of simple sugars, quick energy.

"Kinswoman," he mutters, mouth full, the same litany she's heard dozens of times now, "have you obeyed all orders I have given you in your life and actions today?"

[Izzy Montoya] The door slams, and.. well. It's that time. Again. By the time Daniel has grabbed his plate and come through the doors from the kitchen, Izzy has already grabbed her beer bottle and started to rise - intending to meet him halfway, or something like it. This ordeal is bad enough without the witness of two more kin.

She is at the bar before he is. She sits before he does, and he drops his plate and talks with his mouth full. The muscle in her jaw tenses, clenches. Still - to this day, and every day she lives, she will grind her teeth when he refuses to acknowledge her by her fucking name.

Control.
It's all about control.

"Yes."

[Daniel] [sorry, he dropped his stuff on their table instead.]

[Daniel] [OR NOT]

[Moira Murray] Moira was not skilled with weaponry, though, Leyna had her intrigued now. She extends her hand out the bowie knife, taking the handle into her own and pulls it back to examine the craftsmanship with a critical eye. She tilts the blade, holding it carefully as the backdoor bursts open and Daniel comes out.

"Kinswoman."

There's a brief jerking reaction from her and she grips the handle on the blade, turning her eyes upon Daniel for several seconds, then promptly ignores his existence as she offers the knife back to its owner.

"Yes, something like that would work very well. I am looking for a pair of them to be crafted actually, for a friend. He's Garou and is rather partial to using knives in combat... the one he has is now... not good."

She turns to face Leyna now, "What would it take from me to get you to make these?"

[Leyna Stidolph] Kinswoman, Leyna's eyes shot up and looked at Daniel. The urge to take the bowie knife back from Moira and stab the Garou until he was rendered unconscious was overwhelming. Her body immediately tensed as hot fire burned in her dark eyes. The poor Garou had no idea he was making enemies of his own tribe rather quickly.

Izzy was not a Kinswoman, she was Fenrir. Izzy was not some mare for him to bark at, she was Fenrir. Her fists clenched as her knuckles turned white, staring at Daniel and Izzy at the bar. ~Old Norse~ Fenris be shamed by his unruly child, who thinks he is above respecting other children of Fenris. She snorts out, having a hard time breaking her eyes away from such a disgraceful and dishonorable scene.

Her lips curl up in a feral manner, staring at the pair... before Moira breaks Leyna's aggressive attention. She grunted and looked back at Moira, trying to calm down from her unexplainable irrational anger. "Metal, forge... and time."

[Moira Murray] The tension running through Leyna was visible to Moira's eyes. She was usually good at reading the body languages of those around her, but Leyna just seems to hum with violence. She lick her lips, wrinkling up her nose as she casts another look over her shoulder towards Daniel. Her gaze isn't as fierce, but there was a slight narrowing of her eyes.

She shakes her head slowly, sucking in a deep breath and then reaches out to tap the notepad. "Show me some other stuff. What do you think would be a decent design..." she starts to say, distracting the other kin. "I don't know where to find metal and forge. Find it for me and I can likely pay it."

[Daniel] "Very well." He doesn't even look at her; he stares viciously at the shelves and their bottles instead, the muscles of his face taut and starkly visible beneath his unmarked skin, against his bones. Last of his shivers still peeling down his spine. Nostrils flared, breathing as though he'd run some distance. The Forseti is fresh from some battle or other, his rage spent but his temper

and such a temper it was when riled

still up. His left hand is braced on the bartop. The right is a mess, dripping with cold meat-juices and pie innards. He eats crust and filling out of the palm of his hand, then flicks the crumbs back to the plate. He's still hungry. Starving. Regeneration: hard work.

"As you were promised, most of your freedoms are restored. You may live in your own home and keep your own hours. You may go where you please and fraternize with whom you please, though you will continue to restrict your interactions with John Thornton to what is minimally necessary for your work.

"If you absolutely must know the touch of a man, you may choose one male to lie with. Not one a day, or one a week. One. Pick wisely. And if you choose Thornton, then by Fenris, don't make me regret giving you this freedom.

"You will continue to uphold the hierarchy to which we are all bound. You will respect those who are stronger than you. You will not shout, curse or command any that you cannot defeat in battle. Every week, on Freya's day, you will come to me and I will continue to question you as I have. If by the turn of the equinox you have not erred, I will consider lifting the last of these restrictions.

"Finally, you remain my charge and responsibility, as the Jarl decreed. If you are genuinely threatened, you will come to me for protection."

All this spoken low, a rush of hard consonants and sliding vowels: his strange accent. The shivers have stopped now; his breathing is almost level.

"Are we understood?"

[Leyna Stidolph] Leyna was shaking from anger, she could hear Daniel and he spoke of respecting Izzy's superiors.. but what about him?! Respecting the 8th! He could preach about the 5th but he could not uphold the 8th?! She ground her teeth, trying to shut out the chattering...

Loyalty and Honor. Those were the codes of the Fenrir! Here was this douche nozzle unable to uphold Honor.. and if he could not uphold that simple law, then his loyalty was in question. Why didn't the Jarl see this? Why wasn't Daniel being punished for HIS actions?!

She flipped through the pages harshly, "If you pay for it, then most of my issues will be solved." She said to Moira. "As for what I think is best..." She cracked her neck loudly, trying to loosen up the tension. "What form are we focusing on?"

[Izzy Montoya] He lectures, and lays down his rules. The muscle in her jaw jumps as she clenches it rhythmically. She listens - because she promised. She doesn't say anything - because she promised.

Are they understood?

Understanding is such a slippery concept... none of this is understood. It's ancient, it's ridiculous, it's beyond any modern day woman's understanding and she hates. every. fucking. minute. of. it. Almost as much as the slow low burn of hatred she holds for him.

"What day is Freya's day?" A beat, and then - the question of an apparent contradiction. "If I am to only interact minimally with Detective Thornton, how can I choose him - if indeed I do."

[Daniel] A flash of a sideways glance, incredulous. "Friday, kinswoman, it's Friday. Don't you know your own heritage?

"As for the rest, I'm sure you'll find a way." He snatches a rag off the bartop, wipes his fingers with short, impatient strokes. "Are we finished here, kinswoman?"

[Moira Murray] Moira's eyes snap up immediately to the tone of the conversation had taken. She has suddenly become drawn into it as Leyna seethes next to her in her chair. Though for Moira it was different reasons that she was interested now.

Idly her eyes slide back to Daniel and Izzy as she continues to speak to Leyna about the weapon design. "Human, near-man forms, maybe Crinos but I doubt that, then again I don't know. What can be designed to fit all three forms?"

She folds her arms across her chest, trying to distract herself from the conversation as she nervously plays with the leather knotwork pendant hanging closely to her throat. She wrinkles up her nose. "Leyna, do I just have to buy you a damn forge just so you can make it?"

[Leyna Stidolph] She wanted to answer Moira... she did.. but her mouth took off. "It's FUCKING Izzy Montoya!" She snapped out. "If you expect her to honor the old ways then you honor her right to be called by her fucking name!" She seethed out in her chair. "Is it REALLY that hard? NO!" She stood up suddenly, slamming her fist on the table.

"IZZY! That's it! She is not a fucking mare! She is Fenrir! How dare you preach the 5th but do not take into consideration the 8th!" She growled at Daniel, staring right at him with an inhuman glare. "You do NOT force a Fenrir!"

[Moira Murray] Leyna starts screeching out Izzy's name. Moira jerks, swaying in the chair as she turns to look up at the screaming kin next to her with widening eyes. A look of horror casts across her features as they snap over to Daniel immediately. She nearly jumps out of her seat to stand besides Leyna and physically grabs a hold of the girl to keep Leyna at bay.

[Izzy Montoya] She closes her eyes, briefly. Her jaw clenches, tightly, and her teeth grind audibly. If he could hear her thoughts... if he could only... Well, she'd be dead - before she could finish counting down from 10 to 1, one by teeth-grittng one.

[Izzy Montoya. Fenrir. Born and raised in Chicago. CPD. Homicide. Izzy. Fucking. Montoya. Daughter of kin, granddaughter of a great Foresti - one who at least knew her motherfucking name.]

Her eyes open, and she nods, sharply, before she turns on a heel to head back to the table, and the ladies at the table - and then Leyna... Leyna starts and Izzy stiffens farther. She just won most of her freedom. She JUST won it.... and the look she shoots Moira is one of quick, silent pleading, even as she steps between Daniel and the table automatically. "Daniel..."

Let her handle it, let her talk to the other, let....
theyneverstoppedhimwhenhesmashedherfaceinoverandover - whyshouldshe?

"She's under the influence. Let me handle her. please."

don't..don't...don't take it [him] away from me...

[Daniel] Immediately the Forseti swings about. There's something heavy, brutal about the motion, as though his weight were entirely in his shoulders. He starts across the room, silent save for short, furious breaths, the inhales sharp, the exhales controlled.

Broken Hammer is not huge. He's not powerfully built like so many of their tribe. He's tight and lean, an inch or two under six feet, and without an ounce of spare. As hard as bone. There's a deftness to his motion that is entirely animal, and his eyes are black and savage. Even across the room, his bared teeth are visible. Leyna has a loud voice, a strong will. Leyna has soft rendable flesh and fragile little bones; she's a sack of meat and viscerae; he could close his teeth on her throat and she'd be

dead.

Except -- Izzy cuts in front of him. His eyes swing viciously to her, glaring. For a second he doesn't seem to comprehend her. He shoulders past. When he reaches Moira and Leyna's table he upends it viciously, heaves it aside and sends their plates and bottles and drawings flying. Rage crackles in the air. He rears back and boots Leyna solidly in the breastbone, knocking her over in her chair, onto the ground, on her back.

And then: not claws; not teeth. Words.

"How dare you speak of the Law to me as though you knew its meaning. Respect is given as it is earned." His finger stabs in Izzy's direction. "She is earning hers back. You have just lost yours."

He turns back to Izzy.

"Handle her as you like. When you're finished, bring her to the Jarl. Tell him what happened; every detail. He'll decide what's to become of her. And remember what I said. Don't dishonor yourself before the Jarl."

[Leyna Stidolph] Moira stands up and grabs Leyna from her side, Leyna was shaking in anger and fear. Mostly fear because she knows what she did was not in her right or her place. She should have kept her mouth shut, she had issues with that and her mouth was always getting her into trouble.

The hair on the back of her neck stood straight up as Izzy tried making excuses for her. She is under the influence? Not anymore! Her intentions were good, but like Laird used to tell her, the path way to hell was usually paved with good intentions. One would think she would learn.

Panic fills Leyna, a moment to dart for the door. A moment she wanted to hide or get on her knees and beg for forgiveness. The adrenaline pumped through her veins, her heart beating a thousand beats per minute, sweat beaded down the kins face, knowing whatever came her way was going to hurt. Every muscle tensed and flexed waiting for the inevitable. Broken bones and flesh from the whip against her for speaking out of line. Her breathing labored from the rush and fear constricting her lungs, she was not going to make it out of the Brotherhood alive, she was certain of it.

He came towards her and the only thing she could think of doing was pushing Moira out of the way. She would take what is ever coming to her, but she would not allow Moira to be hurt for her actions. She took the boot to the chest, with no resistance other then wanting the other wanting the other kin safe and out of the way. She fall back into her chair and then to the ground with a loud thud. The sharp land knocked the air out of her chest, as she gasped.

No tears though. No cries of pain. No nothing.

She should have stayed down... but even though she was in pain, she growled out and rolled off the chair... pulling herself up from the floor slowly. However this time she staved off her tongue, she would save it for the Jarl.. However she did stare down Daniel, with absolutely no fear in her eyes now. He was nothing short of a bully.

[Moira Murray] For a second time, Daniel was charging like a bull towards a kinfolk that had spoken out of line. His nearness sends a shudder up her spine, the table throw back violently form the women that it sends bottles and items crashing to the floor. She had moved in reaction to block whatever blow Daniel was going to land on Leyna, knowing the extent of his temper.

Leyna manages to push Moira out of the way, accepting her fate as Daniel's boot connects with Leyna's body and sends the kin flying into a chair and eventually onto the floor. The heat of a blue gaze snaps up as Moira turns on Daniel. Her eyes narrows into thin slits as her mouth begins to form a thinning line.

He speaks of the Jarl and Moira bristles up - so many thoughts and concerns race through her mind at the moment she doesn't realize what she says as she moves to drop down into a crouch beside Leyna.

"You stupid fuck..." Moira hisses out.

[Izzy Montoya] He glares at her - and she stands her ground. She won't stand idly by as another woman gets beat. She won't. He shoulders past her, and sends the table (....and Izzy's computer, all her files...) flying. He rears back and kicks Leyna and Izzy is closing the distance again, her hand grasping his bicep, her grip stronger than it seems it would be, though her gaze is on Leyna. She stays quiet, so instead, there's a quiet request of Moira. "Get her outside. I'll be there in a minute."

And then - to Daniel, his rage a barely flickering thing compared to when he beat her near to death and Moira and others simply watched, but even if it were high, soaring and screaming and crackling like it was that night, she would still do the same. "I'll call him immediately - and Daniel?"

She has ALWAYS called him by his name. Always. Even when angry. Even when freaking out in the middle of a pain and memory and terrified breakdown. She's never ever called him anything else.

Well. Within his hearing, anyway.

When his glare finds hers gaze again, her voice is soft, and carries only between them.

"Sometimes, if a reaction continue to occur spread over more than one person, you have to consider the common factor. We adapt, or die. You force me to adapt - but remember... it's a little thing that means an awful lot - and if you'd..." she stops, and then... "Someday, if you'll listen, I'll tell you why it triggers me like it does."

A beat, and then a nod, as her hand falls from his arm, and she turns to start picking up the mess of folders she'll spend hours reorganizing and her - hopefully not destroyed - computer.

[Daniel] "Arguments like that lead to the Wyrm, kinswoman." His teeth flash on every word. "Many a good Garou have danced down the Spiral telling themselves they are adapting, that they must to win. Tradition is all we have left. If we sacrifice ourselves in the winning, then there is no point.

"As for your name, you will earn that back as you've earned everything else." Black eyes swing back to Leyna, narrowed, without an ounce of pity or remorse. "Now take care of this mess you've asked to be entrusted with."


[i gotta head to bed, guys! i'll wait around for responses, but then i'm crashing. thanks for the play!]

[Leyna Stidolph] Leyna was proud, like any Fenrir should be. She was courageous to the point of stupidity like so many other Fenrir. She was a warrior, no not born true, but she was a warrior nonetheless. Like all Fenrir. Strength was proven far more than with physical prowess, strength shown in the face of death and not willing to yield or bow. No matter what they did to her, Leyna had conquered. They could beat her, they could kill her, but never will she bow or yield to them. Not over something she believed was right.

It did not matter what Izzy's other crimes were, or where she might have slighted the other Fenrir, those things did not matter to the small sickly looking in. What mattered to her was Izzy's right to be called as she desired. If she did not like being called Kinswoman, than it should be respected.

She would take that conviction to the grave.

His little temper tantrum, his display of physical worth meant shit to the kinfolk. Sure he could kill her, so could many other things, but she would not cow. Not to him or anyone else. She was the daughter of the mountain, she survived slavery, she survived beatings, she survived being wyrm bait, she had survived every fucking thing that was thrown at her. She did it with honor and pride, she did it with courage and dignity. One fuck head wasn't going to make her fall to her knees.

Her conviction was set.

Daniel would pay...Even if Moira tried to move Leyna, the kinfolk would not budge. She just stared Daniel down unafraid and unyielding to him. There was something different about Leyna compared to the others, just the way she stared at Daniel... nearly hovering herself over Moira, protectively. She was a feral creature.

She did not move, did not bat her eyelashes. At all times Daniel was in her line of sight. When he spoke... it just made her teeth grind together. She wanted to bare her teeth and snarl at the Garou... but she didn't.

She just waited there until he left.

[Izzy Montoya] Her teeth grind together again as she stops and simply looks at him. There's something in her gaze, something raw, something wounded when he looks at her this time when he doesn't even... but it's closed off once again, shuttered away almost as instantly as it arrived.

She'd tried.

She'd done everything he asked - and she tried. It's not the first time either - she did the day after he beat her, and still she tried again.

It won't happen a third time.

She says nothing else to him, but to Leyna. "Don't you fucking dare get me put on fucking lockdown again. Get. Out. Side." And then she just scoops up the papers and files, the photos ruined by spilled beer, the mess he's made of even more of her life tonight. Silent again. Seething.

[hurt]

[Moira Murray] (grumbles at internet)

[Moira Murray] Moira does not move from her crouched position on the floor. She stays beside Leyna, in case Daniel made any further motions towards them again. She settles her eyes on his back, just glaring at him as Izzy is telling her to take Leyna outside.

[Leyna Stidolph] Leyna snorted out, still in pain but she wasn't going to show it to anyone. Why that would be just down right unfathomable. She worked her way outside... Izzy was pissed at her and would more than likely never forgive her.

That was the way the cookie crumbled.

Leyna would more than likely be hated by all the other Fenrir and yet she couldn't care at the moment. She opened the door out to the back and slipped outside.

The cold air did not feel comfortable on sore lungs.

[Izzy Montoya] She scrubs her hands over her face, briefly, once Daniel has gone, and then to Moira. "I don't even have his fuckin' number - do you?"

The Jarl, one would assume. She start to shove the files and folders into her briefcase. She'll sort it out at home. And then. "Would you make sure she doesn't bolt while I get this shit together? If I don't get her to the motherfuckin Jarl, it's my ass, not hers."