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RUSH:
Rush practically scrambles to the campfire, feeling a little as if he's in one of those anxiety dreams where you're searching and searching for something you can't find. He hails the werewolves frantically.
"Adam! Kay! I'm sorry, I didn't actually mean to leave you-- I thought it was gonna be more like a hedge gate! Are you alright? What're the coppers doing?"
RUSH:
Rush is still in mid yelp, as just seconds ago it felt as if the floor had suddenly disappeared. He catches himself on Cyrus's shoulder, trying to get his bearings.
"Wh... Uhh... Wait, lie low? No, we don't have time! We need to find that mage you know! I mean, okay, keeping the masquerade is probably a lost cause at this point, but if there's a chance we gotta try." He yanks out his hedge phone, frantically texting a "CODE RED, THIS IS NOT A DRILL" message to a few prominent individuals in the changeling community and praying they can pass the it along.
((GM-- I don't think I have to roll for that, but if I do, much apologies. ^^;; ))
Adam stands up, looking off into space with a sense of urgency. Then he looks over at Rush, his eyes wild and scared.
"She's the one! I don't know what they mean. I don't know if she even knows it or not, but it's her. She's the one they keep talking about. What do they want with her?"
"Adam?" Kay asks hesitantly. She's the only one here without a clear sense of what's actually going on.
He shakes his head and glances at her, then tries to answer Rush's question more coherently. "Jacob woke up and rushed the girl. He must be able to smell the Wyrmtaint on her, same as I do. Sasha and Rufus jumped to her defense. I didn't get there in time.
"Rufus shut down Jacob, but Sasha--he glowed with it, for a moment, when she was in trouble. The Wyrm boiled from him, just like it had when Harvester... I don't understand!" he shakes his head.
Cyrus sighs as Rush begins to freak out, quickly dragging his mood back down--especially as people begin freaking out in the mindspace. "I guess you have a point. Sorry, I got ahead of myself..."
He glances at the phone in his hand--he honestly didn't mean to steal it, he just forgot to hand it back--and leans against a wall as he tries to remember the numbers.
((I'm not sure if I know Phillip too well, or have his number--may I roll to remember?))
[Oh look, dreamscape.]
Claire
Claire shakes her head at Kay, rather enthusiastically, truth be told, though she's rather distracted by the stars. "Wow," she murmurs. "I've never seen so many..." Living in a big city all your life will do that to you. She takes in several lungfuls of sweet, grassy air; the crisp edge of campfire smoke just sharpens the scent and taste.
Minutes pass, and slowly, almost mockingly, the unadulterated awe shining out of her eyes fades and a look of horror takes over. Warm tears leak out as her lips part further in awe no longer, but in horror.
It would appear that some things are all-consuming.
Kay's look grows worried as Claire's expression changes. She casts a glance at Adam, who looks at dream-Claire with an unreadable expression. Adam says, "Jacob killed her father... I wasn't fast enough."
He clenches his jaw and looks away.
Kay looks back, aghast. "Oh..." she says softly. She steps up and, if Claire lets her, wraps her arms around her in a full hug.
((OOC: Remember the dream can communicate wordless thought and emotion as well as images and words, and also that any of us can affect what's here. Kay's creating the firepit and starry sky from her own memories--I could easily see Claire's pain manifest here as one metaphor or another.))
(((OOC: Oh, now that is nifty!)))
[Oh look, dreamscape.]
Claire
For several moments Claire remains in shock, even as Kay's arms wrap around her. She finally blinks, more tears following the movement, and half-collapses, burying her face in the stranger's shoulder, shivering and sobbing and generally choking on emotion.
In some macabre duet to her cries, there comes an odd squealing: the sound of ice shifting against itself, breaking and forming. Off in the middle distance, mountains of ice are forming, turning the grassland into a valley. A bitter, numbing wind picks up, strong enough to make the fire flicker; it flares higher in response, defiant against the bone-deep chill.
(((OOC: Not sure where we are with height difference between these two, sorry about that. :'D)))
((OOC: I'd say shoulder, most likely. Kay is only a few years older than Claire, and she's small even for her age. Very cool imagery, btw!))
Kay holds Claire all the tighter, trying to shelter her from the cold wind blowing off the ice. She looks up at the spreading ice, the wind blowing her hair back, and her face seems to glow with an inner fire. The flames behind her dance higher, defiantly cheerful. She knows she can't hold back the cold wind, but maybe she can make it a little warmer, right here.
Mid-battle, neither Rufus nor Constantin has the mental energy to spare to actually communicate, but given the nature of the place, everyone can feel the concern and protectiveness coming from them, and something else too: something angry and animalistic, heavy and dark in the air like lightning, with a hungry, gleeful underpinning to it, almost like lust.
((OOC: edited because I forgot we couldn't select which emotions were projecting into the mindspace, we were just merrily oversharing. lol. And mid-fight is never the noblest headspace.))
((barfight))
Officer Thompson is dead.
The waitvamps are all clustered around Alexander by this time, forming a defensive perimeter. However, as they reach him, he shakes his head and nods to the policemen, who are still freaking out, and several waitvamps go to stand by them. Another starts heading over to Officer Thompson's and Officer Sara's bodies.
Borogris lunges to try to get his sword back from Constantin, but fails. He starts (slowly) transforming into a werewolf.
Three of the remaining cops are slowly beginning to calm down. One is still screaming.
Alexander tucks the gun from Officer Thompson's body into his waistband.
The officer by the kitchen door has finally managed to calm down, and is lowering his gun with shaking hands, staring around the room. The other cop has moved by the outside door and is trying to guard it. Morgan makes it over to Claire and crouches down in front of her, shielding her with his body and holding the stake out leveled at Sasha and the fighting werewolves, muttering "sh, sh, sweetie, it's gonna be okay."
Sasha just stands in front of Claire, staring fixedly ahead with a vaguely creepy smile on his face. (His eyes are still black.)
((OOC: GM posting as Sasha, right now, because he's badass. Just a reminder: people who are engaged in combat are currently TOO DISTRACTED to simulpost here!))
Rufus lunges at Jacob and his jaws close around the larger wolf's throat. Rufus's teeth slice through muscles and tendons and he pulls back snout covered in blood. He turns to survey the room with a slight growl.
((OOC: COMBAT IS OFFICIALLY OVER!!!!!!...unless you want to attack someone else, that is. But this *should* be the last barfight post, I think?))
Borogris is turning back to Jacob, following the sound of his Beta's snarls, when Rufus attacks, just in time to see Jacob die as Rufus rips his throat out.
He's started back toward the fallen Jacob when Constantin looms up over him, holding the sword, eyes flashing.
"Your old master is dead, and was never worthy of your service. Surrender to us, and finally have an alpha to whom you are proud to kneel. You're better than this. We're better than this," he says.
Borogris transforms, human shape - and clothing - fading away seemingly into thin air, to be replaced by the shadowy image of a big black wolf, that rolls onto its back and bares its throat up to Constantin, before fading back into a human.
He bows before Constantin. "Understood, my Alpha. What is your will?" He starts to stand up, then pauses, glancing around at the still panicking officers. "...but before you command me, could I have my sword back, please?"
((This is a reaction by Kat and some of the officers to the recent fight))
Kat, seeing Jacob's death, starts in surprise, a look of relief passing briefly across her face, before one of the waitvamps comes near her and she flinches away, ducking back down under the counter.
"What the FUCK was that?!" screams the still-panicking officer, waving his arms in the air, ignoring his fellows' attempts to calm him. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"
"Calm down!" snaps Morgan, from over by Claire. "You knew vampires were real - well, apparently werewolves are too. Somebody check on Sara and-" he swallows, glancing down at Claire, "-Rhys. Get these people out of the way in case the smaller one attacks again. And- get the hell away from that body, Alexander!"
Alexander looks up, coolly, from where he's been standing over the fallen Officer Thompson. "My people were merely attempting to make the good officer comfortable, Morgan. If you prefer, we can leave him where he is for now, but if I'm expected to keep a dead body on the floor of my restaurant I may have to reconsider that restraining order. They do so lower the tone of the establishment once they start to rot."
"I-" Morgan starts toward him, face purpling again, then glances back at Claire and sighs. "Shit. Can somebody take her outside? And call her mother? Who knows Mrs. Thompson's number?"
"I'll do it," one of the cops volunteers, pulling out a phone. The remaining five go back to hyperventilating, guarding the two exits (one officer at each door), and dealing with Sara and Rhys's bodies.
((Constantin, Rufus, and Borogris))
Constantin blinks, before flipping the blade and handing it over hilt-first. "You try to keep everyone as safe as you can, without putting yourself in a stupid amount of danger," he orders, distractedly, clapping Borogris on the shoulder and turning, grasping Rufus by the scruff and whispering something in his ear and ducking out the door with inhuman speed. The girl's been getting weird looks from people all day, and if what's been happening so far is any judge, one police officer is just not enough to keep her, or anyone, safe right now.
((OOC GM's NOTICE OF SADNESS AND DOOM:
Tragically, Tala has emailed me to say that, due to busyness, she will be taking an indefinite hiatus from this forum. Therefore, the character of Kalynn Worthington has been retconned into having left the bar about 3 hours ago, before any of this stuff went down (just after her last comment).
If you all see Tala, give her love and hugs from me.))
While all the fighting and whatnot went on, Cyrus watched in total confusion. No one spoke, save for Claire crying and Kay trying to comfort her. His eyes flickered back and forth between the others, trying to gauge what was going on--especially since Adam's comment only served to confuse him even more.
As he watched, vague flickerings appeared over Cyrus's head. Numbers quickly jotted out, names and pictures that appeared and vanished. Apparently, he was working hard on trying to think about something, and letting it leak into the mindspace a bit. There was always the off-chance that someone would notice, realize what he was trying to remember, and lend a hand.
Or just, y'know, do something. Because it's quiet, and there's a weird play of elements and emotions around that Cyrus isn't sure he trusts.
"...The hell did I miss by leaving...?"
After a few long minutes of confusion, Cyrus starts cursing under his breath. After fiddling with the phone, he looks about to toss it, stops, and shoves it into his pocket.
He turns to Rush, quickly masking his annoyance with an unstable smile. "...This would be a bad time to mention that I don't remember the number, wouldn't it...? And I only vaguely know where they are."
He starts scratching Celine's head and adds, "Look, I might have it written down at home. Or Pepper might now. Or...something. Anyway, I'm not going to get much done here. You coming with, or is this where we say goodbye?" There's a note to his voice that hints he'd rather they not say goodbye just yet.
Rufus wags slightly after Constantin whispers in his ear and turns back into human form, completely naked. He rummages around in his back pack and pulls out a pair of pants before walking over to the bar and sitting on the floor next to Kat but keeping enough of a distance so she doesn't feel threatened. "I'm strong and I make sure those that I've made a promise to are safe no matter what. I won't force you to do anything, anything from this moment on is completely your decision. I treat my friends like family and if you ask Constantin, he'll tell you how protective I am of my family. So what do you say?" He smiles broadly and holds a hand out to her.
((This is an interaction between Rufus and Kat))
Kat initially flinches when Rufus comes over to her, but as he talks, her eyes get gradually wider and wider, and she leans in close to listen, a longing expression on her face.
"I...I wish I could," she whispers, after a second of contemplation. "I really, really do, but - I'm Lupus Tutorem. Unless you're one of their registered Betas...I'm probably just going to be handed to another pack. A weaker one." She draws in a breath and lets it out on a long shudder, then adds, quieter than ever. "Thank you for killing him. I- I know, as an Omega, I don't have much to offer in the way of favors, but if I can ever pay you back, I will."
RUSH:
Rush balks at Adam's revelation, slowly raising a fin to his mouth. He looks about ready to ask "But why?", but stops himself when he sees Claire breaking down. He tugs the feathered lining of his jacket tighter around his neck against the gusts of cold wind, giving Adam a flabbergasted look.
"Adam, that other pack... who were they? What's-- what's a Wyrmtaint?"
RUSH:
Rush gives Cyrus a severely nonplussed look at his lack of memory, but starts to put his hedge phone away busily.
"Like I said, if there's a chance we can reverse some of the damage, we gotta try. Sorry to say, but you're stuck with me for a bit." He finds the peace of mind to wink at Cyrus, but his tone becomes more serious.
"I'll follow, but I gotta ask-- you're not one of those, ah, changeling-stalking, Acradia-opening mages, are you? Because that would be really unfortunate. Because I actually kinda like you."
[Oh look, interaction.]
Claire
Her sscreams quiet only because, apparently, she's strained her voice to the point of cracking. "No, no, no, no, no," she half-wails, half-moans. The shock is trying hard to wear off, but she grabs on with a feral grip that's equal portions rage and fear.
Letting go of the numbness would mean accepting the truth, and truth burns.
Her father's dead. He died trying to protect her. All her fault. Her fault. If she hadn't decided to try to pull a runner, this wouldn't have happened. No one would have tried to attack her, werewolves wouldn't be real, and daddy would be alive--smiling or reprimanding, she doesn't care, he'd be here.
Claire grips onto Morgan's shirt with both fists. "I-i-it's--" she breaks off, hiccuping and gasping, trying to catch breath that's not coming. "Not fair. Not...fair." The mantra starts low, gradually rising in agony as she beats her tiny fists against Morgan, sobbing out the unfairness of the world even as it continues to crash around her, voice climbing once again to a now wheezy wail.
(((OOC: Amelia, I will be Skype later this evening/your morning!:) )))
[Oh look, dreamscape.]
Claire
Several minutes of heartbreaking sobs later, the ice mountains have stopped forming. They're sharply sloped, craggy looking things--like something out of a Tim Burton stop-animation film--that smile grotesquely against the dark skyline. Cold wind still forms and she shivers, her lips long since purple and teeth already chattering.
She doesn't so much pull her self out of Kay's hold as she let's herself finally, fully fall like so much dead weight. Ha. Dead weight. Dead. Get it?
Claire stares at the slightly warmed grass, face a blank white as one hand grips at her hair and the other the grass--not sure which is grounding her and which she wants to tear out. Tear, tear, spelled and sound the same. Ha. One leads to the other. Funny.
A stark heaviness presses down on the dream world, unfathomable in its simple complexity: loss, pain, sadness, hysteria...a striking emptiness, a lack of true feeling, simultaneously too much.
So this is what grief feels like.
Cyrus looks a bit surprised--at the question or the compliment, it's hard to say. Again, he regains his composure quickly enough to smile back.
"An Acanthus, you mean? No, not me...I'm a Moros. With a semi-theatrical bow (Celine clinging FOR DEAR LIFE on his shoulder as he does), he says, "Cyrus Bloom, Ghostbuster for hire. And Celine...my assistant, I suppose."
Celine moodily meows at this, as if to say, "Damn right, I'm the assistant." Cyrus snickers a bit at this as he pets her head. "Of course, girl. Let's get you home. Ah, Rush, if you'd be so kind as to follow me? It's...not much of a place, but it's home, and I'm sure you'll like Pepper. She's my roommate--er, she actually owns the place. I just...help when I can. He smiles sheepishly at this as he begins to stride home.
((Claire, Morgan, and Constantin))
Constantin doesn't intrude on Claire's mourning; she probably would prefer to only show that to someone who's known her longer than one night. He just lets himself be visible and obvious not too far away. He didn't go back on his promise to try to protect her. He's right here.
None of them should be going off in small groups, right now, he thinks.
RUSH:
"A-can-thos," Rush tries out the word like it has a bitter taste, "Huh. Good to know the names of one's enemies, I suppose." He gives Cyrus an encouraging smile, falling into line alongside him. After a moment's pause, he reaches out and links his arm with his.
"Haha, don't worry-- I live in the middle of a hedge, literally." He frowns. "Well, lived. Hope my fishies are okay. Anyway, what do you Moros mages do?"
Cyrus takes a moment to ponder the question. "Depends on the Moros, I suppose. We've got everything from alchemists to necromancers, detectives, thieves, morticians, and interior decorators. As I said, though, my specialty's with ghosts. I help them move on after death, so they don't get upset and become violent.
He seems a bit depressed as he adds, "After tonight...there are probably so many ghosts already, confused about what's going on and what to do now. As soon as I can, I should help them..." With a dry laugh, he adds, "If I'm lucky, someone'll pay me for it. Anyway, what d'you do?"