[Abattoir] Rules:
1. Narrative posts in 10 minutes or less, declarations in 3 minutes or less. Rolls should be made very quickly. I aim to get this scene done in the allotted time since I have to work tomorrow. In like of the short time frame, I would appreciate it you would not multitask.
2. Please PM me any applicable merits and flaws. Keep track of your own tempers.
3. If you have any questions, ask me via IM. I will see IMs before I see the chat, particularly if I am working on a post.
4. If anything in the scene bothers you, please send me an IM. I will do what I can to correct it so you are not made uncomfortable.
5. I will give you one coupon for a free re-roll. This coupon can be spent only once. It is non-transferable. You can use it to re-roll any roll: damage, soak, willpower, attack, initiative, rage back - anything - and take the better of the two. Again, you may spend this reroll only once and should make sure you save it for something important.
6. I reserve the right to modify the dice if necessary for continuity and/or beneficial to the scene.
[Abattoir] The assembled Garou are briefed by Joel - Electric Sky - in the Caern before the mission. The Ragabash - Fostern now - has created a rough diorama of their target out of spare pieces of metal and machinery on a table that has been filled with sand, some intimation of the great tables used by the generals of Europe to move little toy-shaped representations of their warriors about the land. Maybe it is meant as a tongue in cheek allusion. The table is old; the sand has blood mixed in.
Everything here does.
Everything.
--
His packmate stands by, but is silent as he explains the situation to them.
"So," he tells them, "these folks have been making processed meat, right? Some sort of knock-off version of spam. It's tainted. Dr. Slaughter and Bleeding-Heart -rhya have identified the source of the taint as an additive put in during the cooking stage, that helps congeal the meat. Some sort of slurry; I don't know the details." He says, the ghost of a smile passing across his face. "I would have failed orgo, I know it.
"Anyway; the processing plant is in the city itself, set among the old stockyards. The umbra is too bleak there to present a viable option of entry, and we expect that the cursed Garou and their allies would have set at least some sort of spiritual watch over the place. Likely, banes are attracted to the tainted vector, too. I wouldn't cross over unless you were desperate. Even then, I would recommend running rather than standing and fighting against overwhelming odds."
"As far as we know, they do not know we're coming. There will be guards, but they only run two shifts. We're hitting them at midnight, after hours. There shouldn't be any extra employees beyond standard security. This company is tainted; I wouldn't expect the security to be ordinary. Be ready.
"You have two objectives: the first is to cut off the power. The power box is here," he indicates one of the pieces of metal, "in an exterior shed. That's the cut-off for the whole place. It's within sight of the guard shack, and they have roving patrols as well. Once the power's off, it will be dark. You'll have to make provision for lighting your way yourself. They might have emergency lighting; but the inspections are not up to date and we don't have that information.
"The second is inside. Look: we don't know the exact set-up. I can tell you that you are looking for a large cylinder where the ground-up meat is mixed and boiled. It will be at the center of the assembly line. I don't know how big it is; that's what we need to destroy. And cleanse, if possible.
"Listen, you should be careful. This stuff was powerful enough to taint kids and teenagers in a matter of weeks to months rather than months to years. Don't think you're immune."
--
There is time for them all to ask questions about their target. If there are none, Electric Sky drives them to the old stockyards in a purpose-built van with the telephone company's logo on the side, letting them off perhaps a block away. "I'll disabled the electric fence," he tells them, as they exit. "You just need to climb over, and have someone hit the power supply. Hit the target we discussed - and here," he tosses one of them a happy-face pin with little flashing LED lights for the eyes, "if you can't make it back here, press that. I'll come find you."
[Winston Barks Secrets] Winston had been recruited by happenstance more than anything else. He was the guy that just happened to be there, that would have to do. This was a mission made for those of strong and sturdy bodies, not breakable ones like his. For Philodoxes and Ahrouns, those with gigantic pecs and arms the length and width of tree trunks. He'd pointed this out when asked if he would participate, was told that there would be a place for his specialties and to stop being so disrespectful to duty.
So he'd stood at the meeting, dressed (barely) in a button up blue-and-black plaid shirt left unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and nothing on underneath, only curly russet hairs on a thin chest. His hands were jammed into the same cargo shorts that he wore all year long, his feet bare on the warm ground. He had a straw hat on his head and his overgrown and tightly-curled hair was pressed down under it, interrupting the outward fluff of what was turning into a genuine 'jew-fro'.
Were there any questions? Not really, though Winston would take a good look at the makeshift battlemap. He'd huff and roll his narrow shoulders and sneer a little as they climbed into the van: "Let's go get fucked by SpazSpam."
The van ride out consisted of him smoking a cigarette and wheezing unpleasantly in the back. He didn't belong here, he didn't belong amongst anyone. He was an outcast, an abomination, a mistake. Packless, friendless, incapable of mating. He flicked his cigarette lighter on and off a few times before pocketing it. When the LED smiley face pin was tossed to him, he smirked at Electric Sky before pinning it directly to the groin of his low-hanging shorts.
The block away was a desolate one, and the mismatched group had to start walking. Here, in the physical realm. No shortcuts through the Umbra, that was far too dangerous here. It might have been quiet for a second, but not for long, because Winston was gabbing away in that almost-adolescent whine of his.
"So I can just go ahead and cut the power for you guys then be on my merry way, if that's quite alright. Or you, big'un," he's referring to Simon here, "you can use me as a shield. Just put your hand up my ass and wave me in front of projectiles."
[Mama Ankle-Biter] Summoning Water-Gaffling diff 4
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 4, 7 (Success x 4 at target 4)
to Abattoir
[Mama Ankle-Biter] Gnosis: Does it like Mama?
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)
to Abattoir
[Mama Ankle-Biter] Charisma:Friendly + rituals! Calm down, Water, ya know ya loves Mama! She does good things ya.
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 6, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Blood-Song] Ruarc listens carefully to the layout. He is the new dog in town, and as he looks over the map, noting the locations. The Fianna looks thoughtful, then glances up at the others.
“I am th’ new kid o’ the block, but ma talen’ would allow me tae hopefull’ resis’ th’ toxin o’ th’ tank when we tear it down, if’n it be poisonous. Ah will provide heavy support fo’ th’ main strike ‘ere.”
He points to the main room.
“If th’ guard shack Is ‘ere, we need tae plan ou’ route ou’ o’ th’ place ‘ere opposite. It would nae be good if’n th’ guards go’ us surrounded when we need tae ge’out. Any takers tae keepin th’ route open?”
There is a bag next to the Ahroun. It is open now, revealing several small objects. Gourds, strange clay discs and even paint of some sort, as well as bandages and a first aid kit. He spends the van ride getting ready, which includes (to the horror or pleasure of those in the van) of stripping naked and painting himself with the warpaint.
[Blood-Song] [See, my great-great-great uncles cousin was this really cool ahroun! Ancestor roll]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 3, 5 (Failure at target 8) [WP]
[Blood-Song] [Alright, but at least I know how to paint myself!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 8 (Failure at target 7)
[Bone-Grinder] He nods his head slowly at news of the message. He takes the time to project in his mind the image of a meat packaging facility and his smile slowly grows. This is what he did, and his brain was already modeled towards problem solving in this manner. He smiles slightly then turns his eyes in the direction of Winston.
He looks around at the others and gives a slight smile."Breakin' shit is gonna take a little work. I have a few tools in the back of my car though... But What I think we're gonna need is something that will explode. Of course... That's not too hard. If it's a factory it's gonna have flammable things inside right? Oil and the like... We just gotta find a way to make it go up."He says with a reassuring smile, reaching out to gently pat Winston on the head.
"If there are guards in there we're gonna need to do damage on our way inside. Create steam, smoke and anything we can from within... Also we might wanna see if there's some kinda crane in there right? I mean for droppin' cows in the meat vats or something. Might be something we could use that for."He says with a nod of his head.
[Blood-Song] [Other preparations, Spending gnosis to activate BB. Spending 1 rage to activate Razors claws when arriving, Activating Resist Toxin]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Blood-Song] [Re-trying the warpaint demmit!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 5, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Mama Ankle-Biter] The Fostern Gnawer tags along, following and listening to Electric Sky as he gives them the orders and directions that they will need to follow. He doesn't know much, just provides a bit of detail to what they'll need to do. She bobs her head, narrowing eyes as she hears him over the soft humming of her own thoughts rolling around quickly inside her head. She glances from maps to the exterior of the building, and then to the others she was running with.
Two Ahrouns and a Ragabash.
A soft rush of air snorts from her nose as she watches them all. With time, she prepares a water spirit to aid her in the cleansing and healing, the summoning is perfect, the spirit a little irritated with the Gnawer for calling it like a Genie out of a magic water bottle. She pleads and cajoles with the spirit, eventually winning the gaffling over with a bargain. Once they were ready, she looks to those gathered, twitching an eyebrow at Winston.
"Best ya go do what'cha do best and cut that damn power from the box, baby."
[Blood-Song] [Spending gnosis for ST]
[Mama Ankle-Biter] (appends) Whilst digging through her bag of Stuff and not Junk! Each Garou present is handed a small round tablet that is carved out of wood and bone, and glued together with bits of chewing gum and twine. Little shards of glass beads and wiring decorate it fashion glyphs.
Simon, Winston and Ruarc are each given a soak talen by Mama, "Good only once, it's a soak talen, all can really do to halp for the moment... unless ya need healings."
[Mama Ankle-Biter] (fashioned into glyphs...*edits typo*)
[Winston Barks Secrets] The Ragabash had a backpack with him as well, a tattered old army issue thing that looked like it should be weighing him down, though somehow he managed to remain upright with it on his back. Or, well, as upright as he typically stood anyways. At full height he was average, 5'8", but he stood slumped forward with his shoulders hunched, and it made him appear smaller and less threatening than an upright position might have him at. He stood like a Bone Gnawer and a Metis, he knew his place.
On the bus with a cigarette hanging from his lips he'd checked supplies in his backpack, never really pulling anything in particular out, a couple of water bottles with funny colored fluids and bits of different colored tape wrapped around them could be spotted but that was about all. He seemed satisfied, because he'd nodded some, huffed a big pull from that cigarette, then shouldered the backpack that did such a fine job of dwarfing him and moved on along his way.
The big Ahroun Shadow Lord had patted him on the head in the moment he had his hat off, and Winston flashed what he hoped to be a dopey grin up at him but instead it looked more like a sarcastic, undermining smirk. "You need shit blown up? I got that covered. Can't be your finger puppet while that's goin' on, though." Mama, the Fostern of his tribe, told him to do what he did best and handed him a talen, which he inspected for a moment, sniffed, touched with the tip of his tongue, then jammed into the pocket of his shorts, which caused them to sag low enough to share with the world what color his pubic hair was.
"I've got that power grid thing covered, don't you worry. Hell, you guys could probably just let the guards wander away from post to worry about that and then find your way in without having to worry about them and cause a ruckus before we get to the Big Daddy Spam Bucket. That sound good with you guys?" He lifted heavyset eyebrows at the gathered, scratched at the scruff of untended growth on his neck and chin, then set his straw hat firmly back upon his head.
[Bone-Grinder] He nods."Anything we can do to get our asses in sneakily without alerting anyone to our presence is the best Idea. We don't need the guards or anyone else to know if it can be avoided at all... Best we keep most of our focus on the plan and big Red here and I will stick around and be useless... If all goes well we won't need to fight anything. We'll just kinda sit around while folks get stuff set up then we'll come home and talk about how awesome we are."He laughs a little."Anything we can do to avoid combat is better for everyone involved."
[Blood-Song] Ruarc gets dressed again before they arrive, then accepts the soak talen with a murmur of gratitude and a deep nod to the foster theurge.
“Ah, agreed. But I’ t’ings do turn tae th’ worse, we will see ye out. Any ideas fer how tae give us light enough tae see by inside?”
He glances around the occupants of the van.
[Mama Ankle-Biter] The Shadow Lord receives a strange look from the small Gnawer, like he had done and grown two heads. She looks between them, rolling her shoulders back.
"Can't ya do that little light bulb trick?"
[Abattoir] The van is parked on an isolated street in the heart of Chicago's old industrial district. The neighborhood is criss-crossed with railroad lines, and dotted with massive old factories, brick and stone and mortar. The stockyards are gone now, meatpacking work is done away from the city, out in the plain states, in rural little towns all dotted over the huge map - but the memory of blood and pain remains in the air here, stains the umbra.
The work has moved on; the concerns that have moved in after are lesser in every way - there are few enough signs on the old brick warehouses and factory spaces they walk past, just old paeans to the might of the City of Big Shoulders. Maybe half the industrial space around here has been re-occupied by various concerns, and most of these pay minimum wage, or rather less, to undocumented workers mired in poverty.
Electric Sky sits in the front seat, wearing an telephone company uniform, studying the small assault team over the edge of the driver's seat as they discuss their preparations.
[Bone-Grinder] He blinks in surprise and looks back at Mama."Light Bulb trick?"He asks her curiously."I have a lantern... But if we're gonna be sneaking in via our lupus forms... I dunno how I am gonna hold a lantern."
[Mama Ankle-Biter] The small gnawer watches the others, exchanging looks with Joel for a brief moment, ready to head out when the others were ready. She looks to the Ahrouns as it usually they who are the battle planners.
"So, Winston's gone take out the power box first, and we gone wait for him before entering the building, yes?"
[Blood-Song] “Nay… But ah do certainly wish I ha’ paid mo’e attention tae learnin it no’.”
Ruarc opens his bag, digging out a small wax seal with the glypf of the full moon pressed into it, and hands it to Mama with a smile.
“’Ere lass. If’n wefind any o’ the wyrm howle’s in the’e. Figu’e ye be th’ best o’ us tae use it.”
The moon sign talen looks fragile almost.
Ruarc looks to the tohers as Mama lays out the plan. his nod to support what she said.
[Winston Barks Secrets] "I think that's what Fianna do, ain't it?"
Winston lifted his eyebrows at Mama and rolled his eyes toward Ruarc, then paused and adjusted the straps of his backpack. He seemed to be contemplating, and lifted his chin to scratch at his throat while he did so. His breath wheezed and whistled unhealthily in his throat, rattled in his chest. "Anyway, if I have to I can light us a torch."
His eyes, some indeterminate and rather boring shade of hazel-brown, landed on the van, slid across the doors then the windshield to meet eyes with Electric Sky. His stomach grumbled with hunger, breaking the quiet that he was keeping for himself, then he reached down to adjust the smiley pin on his crotch and murmured to the rest of the team: "I'll be right back," and walked to the van.
The driver's door was tapped at, and when the window was rolled down Winston leaned against the door with his hip jutted out to imitate a lady of the night trying to make a buck. "So, sir, would you mind jumping on out and letting me use your big dark van for private please?" And those heavy, ungroomed eyebrows wagged suggestively like a cherry on top.
[Bone-Grinder] He smiles a little as WInston wanders off then looks at the others."We go in under cover of darkness... Don't make a sound we don't need to. Don't draw any attention... If all goes well we get in and we get out without anyone getting hurt. The Full Moons will deal with any trouble if in fact there is anything to deal with."He says letting Winston wander away then looking at Mama.
"We got a plan for the tank?"
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 1 at target 9)
[Abattoir] "I can secure the back," Electric Sky responds, jerking his head toward the back of the van. "Climb in, and I'll show you the bells and whistles." He's a Ragabash, and a Glass Walker, after all. Joel slides out of the driver's seat and circles the van, throwing open the back doors. The back windows are blacked over, and the interior is dark. "I have black-out shades on the pass-through. Hop in."
--
Just as he promised, Electric Sky has black-out shades on the glass divide between the back of the van and the front. Winston has the advantage of a wholly dark room within which to perform the rite of silence. He can safely assume he's not the first to do the rite in the van, and is not likely to be the last.
The others are left outside the van for ten minutes. Joel leans against the back, smoking, idly, watching the streets, alive to their surroundings. "I wouldn't," he cautions, "go furry until I was inside. Unless it came to battle outside. You could take flashlights with you. I'm sure there are a few in there, if you've a mind. Drop them when you need to shift. They're dollar-store cheap, untraceable if you fail to extract them."
Otherwise, the Glass Walker offers them no advice, he just listens to their planning quietly, thoughtfully.
[Bone-Grinder] As Simon is speaking his eyes shift to become yellowish in color, the soft golden hue is a little frightening to behold on a person, in addition his ears begin to shift outward and fix themselves a little higher on his head. He takes the time to pull out a hoodie and glide it on. It was surprising to see someone pull that kinda trick right there in the middle of conversation. Simon was young but already his mastery of changing forms was startling to behold.
The hoodie is glided on, and he finds a black bandanna which he uses to glide around his face covering his lips and mouth. He pulls the hoodie over his head and smiles back at the others. It was amazing how the painted man had gone from being the most easily identifiable man there to the least in just a few seconds. The only thing that could be seen to be identified other than height was eyes and I'd like to see the police catch a man with golden eyes!
[Note: Lost the rest! :( ]
1. Narrative posts in 10 minutes or less, declarations in 3 minutes or less. Rolls should be made very quickly. I aim to get this scene done in the allotted time since I have to work tomorrow. In like of the short time frame, I would appreciate it you would not multitask.
2. Please PM me any applicable merits and flaws. Keep track of your own tempers.
3. If you have any questions, ask me via IM. I will see IMs before I see the chat, particularly if I am working on a post.
4. If anything in the scene bothers you, please send me an IM. I will do what I can to correct it so you are not made uncomfortable.
5. I will give you one coupon for a free re-roll. This coupon can be spent only once. It is non-transferable. You can use it to re-roll any roll: damage, soak, willpower, attack, initiative, rage back - anything - and take the better of the two. Again, you may spend this reroll only once and should make sure you save it for something important.
6. I reserve the right to modify the dice if necessary for continuity and/or beneficial to the scene.
[Abattoir] The assembled Garou are briefed by Joel - Electric Sky - in the Caern before the mission. The Ragabash - Fostern now - has created a rough diorama of their target out of spare pieces of metal and machinery on a table that has been filled with sand, some intimation of the great tables used by the generals of Europe to move little toy-shaped representations of their warriors about the land. Maybe it is meant as a tongue in cheek allusion. The table is old; the sand has blood mixed in.
Everything here does.
Everything.
--
His packmate stands by, but is silent as he explains the situation to them.
"So," he tells them, "these folks have been making processed meat, right? Some sort of knock-off version of spam. It's tainted. Dr. Slaughter and Bleeding-Heart -rhya have identified the source of the taint as an additive put in during the cooking stage, that helps congeal the meat. Some sort of slurry; I don't know the details." He says, the ghost of a smile passing across his face. "I would have failed orgo, I know it.
"Anyway; the processing plant is in the city itself, set among the old stockyards. The umbra is too bleak there to present a viable option of entry, and we expect that the cursed Garou and their allies would have set at least some sort of spiritual watch over the place. Likely, banes are attracted to the tainted vector, too. I wouldn't cross over unless you were desperate. Even then, I would recommend running rather than standing and fighting against overwhelming odds."
"As far as we know, they do not know we're coming. There will be guards, but they only run two shifts. We're hitting them at midnight, after hours. There shouldn't be any extra employees beyond standard security. This company is tainted; I wouldn't expect the security to be ordinary. Be ready.
"You have two objectives: the first is to cut off the power. The power box is here," he indicates one of the pieces of metal, "in an exterior shed. That's the cut-off for the whole place. It's within sight of the guard shack, and they have roving patrols as well. Once the power's off, it will be dark. You'll have to make provision for lighting your way yourself. They might have emergency lighting; but the inspections are not up to date and we don't have that information.
"The second is inside. Look: we don't know the exact set-up. I can tell you that you are looking for a large cylinder where the ground-up meat is mixed and boiled. It will be at the center of the assembly line. I don't know how big it is; that's what we need to destroy. And cleanse, if possible.
"Listen, you should be careful. This stuff was powerful enough to taint kids and teenagers in a matter of weeks to months rather than months to years. Don't think you're immune."
--
There is time for them all to ask questions about their target. If there are none, Electric Sky drives them to the old stockyards in a purpose-built van with the telephone company's logo on the side, letting them off perhaps a block away. "I'll disabled the electric fence," he tells them, as they exit. "You just need to climb over, and have someone hit the power supply. Hit the target we discussed - and here," he tosses one of them a happy-face pin with little flashing LED lights for the eyes, "if you can't make it back here, press that. I'll come find you."
[Winston Barks Secrets] Winston had been recruited by happenstance more than anything else. He was the guy that just happened to be there, that would have to do. This was a mission made for those of strong and sturdy bodies, not breakable ones like his. For Philodoxes and Ahrouns, those with gigantic pecs and arms the length and width of tree trunks. He'd pointed this out when asked if he would participate, was told that there would be a place for his specialties and to stop being so disrespectful to duty.
So he'd stood at the meeting, dressed (barely) in a button up blue-and-black plaid shirt left unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and nothing on underneath, only curly russet hairs on a thin chest. His hands were jammed into the same cargo shorts that he wore all year long, his feet bare on the warm ground. He had a straw hat on his head and his overgrown and tightly-curled hair was pressed down under it, interrupting the outward fluff of what was turning into a genuine 'jew-fro'.
Were there any questions? Not really, though Winston would take a good look at the makeshift battlemap. He'd huff and roll his narrow shoulders and sneer a little as they climbed into the van: "Let's go get fucked by SpazSpam."
The van ride out consisted of him smoking a cigarette and wheezing unpleasantly in the back. He didn't belong here, he didn't belong amongst anyone. He was an outcast, an abomination, a mistake. Packless, friendless, incapable of mating. He flicked his cigarette lighter on and off a few times before pocketing it. When the LED smiley face pin was tossed to him, he smirked at Electric Sky before pinning it directly to the groin of his low-hanging shorts.
The block away was a desolate one, and the mismatched group had to start walking. Here, in the physical realm. No shortcuts through the Umbra, that was far too dangerous here. It might have been quiet for a second, but not for long, because Winston was gabbing away in that almost-adolescent whine of his.
"So I can just go ahead and cut the power for you guys then be on my merry way, if that's quite alright. Or you, big'un," he's referring to Simon here, "you can use me as a shield. Just put your hand up my ass and wave me in front of projectiles."
[Mama Ankle-Biter] Summoning Water-Gaffling diff 4
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 4, 7 (Success x 4 at target 4)
to Abattoir
[Mama Ankle-Biter] Gnosis: Does it like Mama?
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)
to Abattoir
[Mama Ankle-Biter] Charisma:Friendly + rituals! Calm down, Water, ya know ya loves Mama! She does good things ya.
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 6, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Blood-Song] Ruarc listens carefully to the layout. He is the new dog in town, and as he looks over the map, noting the locations. The Fianna looks thoughtful, then glances up at the others.
“I am th’ new kid o’ the block, but ma talen’ would allow me tae hopefull’ resis’ th’ toxin o’ th’ tank when we tear it down, if’n it be poisonous. Ah will provide heavy support fo’ th’ main strike ‘ere.”
He points to the main room.
“If th’ guard shack Is ‘ere, we need tae plan ou’ route ou’ o’ th’ place ‘ere opposite. It would nae be good if’n th’ guards go’ us surrounded when we need tae ge’out. Any takers tae keepin th’ route open?”
There is a bag next to the Ahroun. It is open now, revealing several small objects. Gourds, strange clay discs and even paint of some sort, as well as bandages and a first aid kit. He spends the van ride getting ready, which includes (to the horror or pleasure of those in the van) of stripping naked and painting himself with the warpaint.
[Blood-Song] [See, my great-great-great uncles cousin was this really cool ahroun! Ancestor roll]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 3, 5 (Failure at target 8) [WP]
[Blood-Song] [Alright, but at least I know how to paint myself!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 8 (Failure at target 7)
[Bone-Grinder] He nods his head slowly at news of the message. He takes the time to project in his mind the image of a meat packaging facility and his smile slowly grows. This is what he did, and his brain was already modeled towards problem solving in this manner. He smiles slightly then turns his eyes in the direction of Winston.
He looks around at the others and gives a slight smile."Breakin' shit is gonna take a little work. I have a few tools in the back of my car though... But What I think we're gonna need is something that will explode. Of course... That's not too hard. If it's a factory it's gonna have flammable things inside right? Oil and the like... We just gotta find a way to make it go up."He says with a reassuring smile, reaching out to gently pat Winston on the head.
"If there are guards in there we're gonna need to do damage on our way inside. Create steam, smoke and anything we can from within... Also we might wanna see if there's some kinda crane in there right? I mean for droppin' cows in the meat vats or something. Might be something we could use that for."He says with a nod of his head.
[Blood-Song] [Other preparations, Spending gnosis to activate BB. Spending 1 rage to activate Razors claws when arriving, Activating Resist Toxin]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Blood-Song] [Re-trying the warpaint demmit!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 5, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Mama Ankle-Biter] The Fostern Gnawer tags along, following and listening to Electric Sky as he gives them the orders and directions that they will need to follow. He doesn't know much, just provides a bit of detail to what they'll need to do. She bobs her head, narrowing eyes as she hears him over the soft humming of her own thoughts rolling around quickly inside her head. She glances from maps to the exterior of the building, and then to the others she was running with.
Two Ahrouns and a Ragabash.
A soft rush of air snorts from her nose as she watches them all. With time, she prepares a water spirit to aid her in the cleansing and healing, the summoning is perfect, the spirit a little irritated with the Gnawer for calling it like a Genie out of a magic water bottle. She pleads and cajoles with the spirit, eventually winning the gaffling over with a bargain. Once they were ready, she looks to those gathered, twitching an eyebrow at Winston.
"Best ya go do what'cha do best and cut that damn power from the box, baby."
[Blood-Song] [Spending gnosis for ST]
[Mama Ankle-Biter] (appends) Whilst digging through her bag of Stuff and not Junk! Each Garou present is handed a small round tablet that is carved out of wood and bone, and glued together with bits of chewing gum and twine. Little shards of glass beads and wiring decorate it fashion glyphs.
Simon, Winston and Ruarc are each given a soak talen by Mama, "Good only once, it's a soak talen, all can really do to halp for the moment... unless ya need healings."
[Mama Ankle-Biter] (fashioned into glyphs...*edits typo*)
[Winston Barks Secrets] The Ragabash had a backpack with him as well, a tattered old army issue thing that looked like it should be weighing him down, though somehow he managed to remain upright with it on his back. Or, well, as upright as he typically stood anyways. At full height he was average, 5'8", but he stood slumped forward with his shoulders hunched, and it made him appear smaller and less threatening than an upright position might have him at. He stood like a Bone Gnawer and a Metis, he knew his place.
On the bus with a cigarette hanging from his lips he'd checked supplies in his backpack, never really pulling anything in particular out, a couple of water bottles with funny colored fluids and bits of different colored tape wrapped around them could be spotted but that was about all. He seemed satisfied, because he'd nodded some, huffed a big pull from that cigarette, then shouldered the backpack that did such a fine job of dwarfing him and moved on along his way.
The big Ahroun Shadow Lord had patted him on the head in the moment he had his hat off, and Winston flashed what he hoped to be a dopey grin up at him but instead it looked more like a sarcastic, undermining smirk. "You need shit blown up? I got that covered. Can't be your finger puppet while that's goin' on, though." Mama, the Fostern of his tribe, told him to do what he did best and handed him a talen, which he inspected for a moment, sniffed, touched with the tip of his tongue, then jammed into the pocket of his shorts, which caused them to sag low enough to share with the world what color his pubic hair was.
"I've got that power grid thing covered, don't you worry. Hell, you guys could probably just let the guards wander away from post to worry about that and then find your way in without having to worry about them and cause a ruckus before we get to the Big Daddy Spam Bucket. That sound good with you guys?" He lifted heavyset eyebrows at the gathered, scratched at the scruff of untended growth on his neck and chin, then set his straw hat firmly back upon his head.
[Bone-Grinder] He nods."Anything we can do to get our asses in sneakily without alerting anyone to our presence is the best Idea. We don't need the guards or anyone else to know if it can be avoided at all... Best we keep most of our focus on the plan and big Red here and I will stick around and be useless... If all goes well we won't need to fight anything. We'll just kinda sit around while folks get stuff set up then we'll come home and talk about how awesome we are."He laughs a little."Anything we can do to avoid combat is better for everyone involved."
[Blood-Song] Ruarc gets dressed again before they arrive, then accepts the soak talen with a murmur of gratitude and a deep nod to the foster theurge.
“Ah, agreed. But I’ t’ings do turn tae th’ worse, we will see ye out. Any ideas fer how tae give us light enough tae see by inside?”
He glances around the occupants of the van.
[Mama Ankle-Biter] The Shadow Lord receives a strange look from the small Gnawer, like he had done and grown two heads. She looks between them, rolling her shoulders back.
"Can't ya do that little light bulb trick?"
[Abattoir] The van is parked on an isolated street in the heart of Chicago's old industrial district. The neighborhood is criss-crossed with railroad lines, and dotted with massive old factories, brick and stone and mortar. The stockyards are gone now, meatpacking work is done away from the city, out in the plain states, in rural little towns all dotted over the huge map - but the memory of blood and pain remains in the air here, stains the umbra.
The work has moved on; the concerns that have moved in after are lesser in every way - there are few enough signs on the old brick warehouses and factory spaces they walk past, just old paeans to the might of the City of Big Shoulders. Maybe half the industrial space around here has been re-occupied by various concerns, and most of these pay minimum wage, or rather less, to undocumented workers mired in poverty.
Electric Sky sits in the front seat, wearing an telephone company uniform, studying the small assault team over the edge of the driver's seat as they discuss their preparations.
[Bone-Grinder] He blinks in surprise and looks back at Mama."Light Bulb trick?"He asks her curiously."I have a lantern... But if we're gonna be sneaking in via our lupus forms... I dunno how I am gonna hold a lantern."
[Mama Ankle-Biter] The small gnawer watches the others, exchanging looks with Joel for a brief moment, ready to head out when the others were ready. She looks to the Ahrouns as it usually they who are the battle planners.
"So, Winston's gone take out the power box first, and we gone wait for him before entering the building, yes?"
[Blood-Song] “Nay… But ah do certainly wish I ha’ paid mo’e attention tae learnin it no’.”
Ruarc opens his bag, digging out a small wax seal with the glypf of the full moon pressed into it, and hands it to Mama with a smile.
“’Ere lass. If’n wefind any o’ the wyrm howle’s in the’e. Figu’e ye be th’ best o’ us tae use it.”
The moon sign talen looks fragile almost.
Ruarc looks to the tohers as Mama lays out the plan. his nod to support what she said.
[Winston Barks Secrets] "I think that's what Fianna do, ain't it?"
Winston lifted his eyebrows at Mama and rolled his eyes toward Ruarc, then paused and adjusted the straps of his backpack. He seemed to be contemplating, and lifted his chin to scratch at his throat while he did so. His breath wheezed and whistled unhealthily in his throat, rattled in his chest. "Anyway, if I have to I can light us a torch."
His eyes, some indeterminate and rather boring shade of hazel-brown, landed on the van, slid across the doors then the windshield to meet eyes with Electric Sky. His stomach grumbled with hunger, breaking the quiet that he was keeping for himself, then he reached down to adjust the smiley pin on his crotch and murmured to the rest of the team: "I'll be right back," and walked to the van.
The driver's door was tapped at, and when the window was rolled down Winston leaned against the door with his hip jutted out to imitate a lady of the night trying to make a buck. "So, sir, would you mind jumping on out and letting me use your big dark van for private please?" And those heavy, ungroomed eyebrows wagged suggestively like a cherry on top.
[Bone-Grinder] He smiles a little as WInston wanders off then looks at the others."We go in under cover of darkness... Don't make a sound we don't need to. Don't draw any attention... If all goes well we get in and we get out without anyone getting hurt. The Full Moons will deal with any trouble if in fact there is anything to deal with."He says letting Winston wander away then looking at Mama.
"We got a plan for the tank?"
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 1 at target 9)
[Abattoir] "I can secure the back," Electric Sky responds, jerking his head toward the back of the van. "Climb in, and I'll show you the bells and whistles." He's a Ragabash, and a Glass Walker, after all. Joel slides out of the driver's seat and circles the van, throwing open the back doors. The back windows are blacked over, and the interior is dark. "I have black-out shades on the pass-through. Hop in."
--
Just as he promised, Electric Sky has black-out shades on the glass divide between the back of the van and the front. Winston has the advantage of a wholly dark room within which to perform the rite of silence. He can safely assume he's not the first to do the rite in the van, and is not likely to be the last.
The others are left outside the van for ten minutes. Joel leans against the back, smoking, idly, watching the streets, alive to their surroundings. "I wouldn't," he cautions, "go furry until I was inside. Unless it came to battle outside. You could take flashlights with you. I'm sure there are a few in there, if you've a mind. Drop them when you need to shift. They're dollar-store cheap, untraceable if you fail to extract them."
Otherwise, the Glass Walker offers them no advice, he just listens to their planning quietly, thoughtfully.
[Bone-Grinder] As Simon is speaking his eyes shift to become yellowish in color, the soft golden hue is a little frightening to behold on a person, in addition his ears begin to shift outward and fix themselves a little higher on his head. He takes the time to pull out a hoodie and glide it on. It was surprising to see someone pull that kinda trick right there in the middle of conversation. Simon was young but already his mastery of changing forms was startling to behold.
The hoodie is glided on, and he finds a black bandanna which he uses to glide around his face covering his lips and mouth. He pulls the hoodie over his head and smiles back at the others. It was amazing how the painted man had gone from being the most easily identifiable man there to the least in just a few seconds. The only thing that could be seen to be identified other than height was eyes and I'd like to see the police catch a man with golden eyes!
[Note: Lost the rest! :( ]
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