[Cigney] The drizzle from earlier that morning had cleared up nicely, leaving a sunny finish to an autumn Saturday. She'd finished her work by noon, as most of her clients were prone to watching college football now that the season had started.
As for Cigney, she'd decided to come on down to the river and do a little bit of clean up. She's got a pair of extra gloves and some trash bags she'd kept in the trunk of her car from the major clean-up Trent had organized last week. Having promised herself she'd stop by every now and again to help maintain that cleanliness.
Every once in a while she'll pause and look at at the river from the bank, and then continue picking up the litter she could see. First along the river, and then double back along the brush line.
[Kora] The riverfront here is debris filled, despite the dent Cigney and the rest of the kin and Garou made the week before last. There's a narrow strip of green, though the grass is mostly dead now after two solid weeks without rain, and long, hard slope down to the water's edge. The neighborhood is a mixture of abandoned industrial buildings, old warehouses that once serviced the city's once-thriving docks, and modest housing for the poor. The few businesses revolve around money and alcohol - check cashing places, payday loan stores, pawn shops line the dull streets closer to the housing developments.
The city has made its attempts to beautify the riverfront, though. There's a jogging path cut into the slope half-way down, and a walk paved with old brick pavers at the top, with 15 year old historical markers, discussing the river, the city, its milestones. As Cigney works her way through the debris close to one of the sets of access stairs tucked into the slope of the hill, she sees a human shadow emerge from the shade of one of the trees along the waterfront.
She's circled that tree twice today, maybe skirting just a bit out of range. A pair of homeless men had been sitting beneath the branches, visible really only from below, and then only when one had reason to look up. She marked them more by the pungent scent of their clothes at first, and then - avoided them, wisely, the rest of the way. The pair appeared to be well on their way toward passing out, sharing a bottle out between them.
The figure is walking with that - swaying gait of a drunk, one hand out. He has a big trenchcoat open, the suggestion of filthy clothing underneath, but mostly he's enshadowed. And something: some change in sound. He's breathing - huffing, like one of her clients when he's reached the limit on the treadmill - like someone in pain.
[Slaughter] "Roman," she calls after him, raising her voice enough to be heard - loud enough for Cigney to hear her.
"Gi' it back, will yeh?"
She holds out her hand, as she steps forward, closing the distance between them both, an eyebrow arching - one of her best 'I am not amused' expressions.
It is a second or two later that she sees Cigney not too far away, the figure approaching her. She lifts her hand to indicate them, her gaze flicking briefly toward the water, then back again.
[Cigney] Busy working, Cigney still seems attentive to her whereabouts. Kind of like a deer in that respect, her head lifting every now and again. That's when she caught the shadow, and her actions became still. How did it get so late, so fast? Deciding to give up for the day.
Then she hears Imogen's voice. She ties the garbage bag and places it off to the side, then removes the gloves and tucks them into the back pocket of her broken in blue jeans.
Her gaze watches for Imogen...still...
[Roman Turner] "Oh come on, I promised not to drive in to the river, remember?"
He was walking backwards, waiting for Imogen to catch up and retrieve her keys when she lifted her hand to indicate something behind him a bit. Turning with the smile still on his face. It wasn't till he recognized Cigney that his face flamed.
[Slaughter] As Roman turns, distracted by Cigney, and is distracted, his face flaming, the kinwoman darts forward - her body as succinct as her speech and snatches her keys from his hand.
They jangle gently as she palms them, stepping back and slipping them in her pocket.
Her gaze flicks from Child of Gaia to Fenrir kin, silent for a second before she tilts her head Cigney's way. "C'mon."
[Roman Turner] He just got pass seeing Cigney when Imogen's, "C'mon" came. Nodding quickly he picked up the pace to keep up with Imogen.
"Why's she out here this late playing with trash?"
Lifting his voice he called out a different version of that question.
"Hey, don'tcha know it ain't safe to be out around the river after dark?"
His hand lifted and he pointed at what in his mind had to be a flasher heading towards Cigney.
"Best step away partner! Put that little pea shooter back in the holster!"
[Cigney] At Imogen's beckon and seeing Roman, Cigney smiles and nods but then remembers the shadow and turns away from them momentarily with a curious gaze.
[Kora] The man's shadow looms - larger than he does, really, as if he had been somehow doubled. It is a trick of the failing light, this. The way his ratty old trench coat billows open, the way his extra layers of clothing fill it up, bulk him through the shoulders and the torso.
That scent expands out from him, too. The odor of a body gone too long without washing, with an admixture of urine, feces, and cheap alcohol as top notes. His clothing is stiff with filth. There are leaves trailing from the bottom hem of the coat. There are leaves stuck in his matted hair.
"Hey! - " he says, as he stumbles over the rise. The top of the tree is visible, and the canopy is shaking as if the wind were blowing through it. There is no wind, though - or rather, if there is a wind, it skims higher across the curve of the earth, touching the tree limbs without disturbing a hair on Cigney's head. Imogen and Roman have spotted both Cigney and the homeless man staggering toward her, " - hey! Lady! Hey lady! Hey!"
He shouts, over and over as he stumbles down a sharp dip in the slope. "You gotta phone! You gotta phone? My buddy - there's these - he needs - "
There's urgency in the man's raw voice, and fear. His tones are thready, not booming as she would expect from someone his size. And as he staggers toward her, the light changes. There's blood spattered over his grizzled features in a stippled array.
There's blood on his hand, a jagged sort of wound that reminds her of teeth, tearing into meat.
[Cigney] The silvery grey eyes widen at the sight of it. Both of her hands come up to her mouth, pressing there tightly to subdue any scream that might have escaped. The sight, the smell, the sound of her heartbeat resounding in her ears...the bells and whistles go off, and she acts as she's been taught.
The tree enters into her thoughts only for a moment. She then puts her finger to her lips and tries to hush the man, crouching down low and motioning for him to do the same.
[Slaughter] The man staggers toward Cigney, and Imogen raises her voice again as she picks up the pace, "OI." This as Cigney presses her hands to her mouth. "Back off." She hears some of it .
The distance is quickly covered, the slight redhaired woman's nose pinching in well-bred disgust at the smell of the homelessness and the addictions that go with it. She sinks to a crunch if the man does, reaching out to take his hand firmly by the wrist, turning it so she can see it, even as she presses down on the arteries which feed the hand, slowing blood from the wound.
She can feel the layer of filth on his skin, the smell of his clothes.
"Where's your friend?" she'd only heard the end of it but she catches on quickly enough, her gaze touching the wound and then moving significantly to Roman, meeting his gaze.
[Slaughter] (err - ix-nay on the "she hears some of it"-ay.)
[Roman Turner] His muscles tensed as the scent of blood and filth touched him. All it took was that and the look from Imogen before he was passing them up to head towards the direction the man had come from with a muttered.
"I'll take a look."
[Cigney] As Imogen looks to the injured man, and Roman passes them to find out what's going on, Cigney stays with Imogen and tries to understand what's going on. This sort of thing is coming new to her. She hadn't had any problems in Chicago thus far.
"What in the hell did this?"
She whispers to Imogen, then looks over her shoulder to where Roman has gone.
"Should I follow him?"
[Slaughter] "Stay," Imogen's response is immediate and brooks no argument. Still her gaze follows Roman as he moves, and her head remains tilted like an animal listening for nearby sounds.
"You have a deep wound," she says clearly to the homeless man, "Yeh need a hospital. Must ha' been quite a dog which did this, wasn't it?"
[Kora] "He's - He's - He's - " the homeless man collapses to his knees a handful of feet from Cigney, his arms dropping open, second hand falling away from the first. Blood flows freely in that moment until Imogen arrives, reaches out, finds the artery and stops the bleeding. The man is in his fifties, with four-days growth of grizzled beard over his cheek and spots of blood dappled over his features like pieces of a pointillistic painting. "You got a phone, lady? He's - under the - "
The only clean piece of clothing on the man is a perfectly fine scarf, wrapped 'round his neck. The fabric is soft, made more for fashion than for function, and mostly hidden underneath his foul trench, revealed only when it drops open as he falls.
"Fucking - " he's still breathing heavily, woozy from blood loss and shock, " - doberman. Rottie. Wolf - big fucking - "
Roman cuts by the two kinswomen, past the wounded man and crests the small hill. The branches of the tree spead out in a low circle, close to the ground. There's a body, splayed out underneath the branches, and a pair of dark shapes, canine or lupine, nosing their way across the body, tearing away hunks of flesh. Along the jogging trail, a pair of men stand, watching. One of them has a small black box in hand. When Roman comes into view, one of them looks up and curses to the other, then turns something on the dial of what looks like the controller for a radio-controlled car, complete with a small antenna jutting out from the little black box.
One of the animals whines and snaps. Then, the two of them turn and streak toward Roman.
[Cigney] Her gaze follows Roman, but does as the Dr. orders. Looking down at the man and his wound, Cigney grabs the bottom of her thread bare t-shirt and lifts it to her mouth. With the material firmly between her teeth, she pulls and rips the t-shirt up the length of her torso. Her hands then do the rest to tear a band clear off her mid-drift, successfully making a binding for Imogen to use. Be it bandage or tourniquet.
[Roman Turner] He has a fraction of a second to register what was going on before the dogs were racing towards him. There on the crest of the hill his dark form shifted and where had stood a dude in a Stetson and jeans, was now a big ole prehistoric wolf shape as he snap shifted to Hispo. Fur bristled along the ridge of his spine and his muscles bunched as he gathered himself to leap in to the fray.
[Slaughter] "I haven't got a phone," Imogen lies quietly, casting Cigney a sharp, quelling glance as she reaches out to take the fabric, "but my friend will see to your friend."
She hears the sound of growling, the snarls of dogs, and then, abruptly, the low snarling grow of a Garou in hispo, his form between the monster and wolf.
Imogen looks up at the beast, then down again at the homeless man, her hand releasing his wrist to come and close firmly on his shoulder while the other reaches beneath her jacket to the small her back.
She'd mentioned something once. How she'd take no chances with this.
Her features are a mask, her jaw set. She removes the safety of her weapon before she pulls it out. It's a rough night to be human.
She never speaks or warns Cigney, nor her victim as she points it at the homeless man, just a half foot away from her and fires entirely without hesitation or warning.
[Slaughter] ("entirely without hesitation or expression")
[Cigney] The sound the dogs, and the sight of Roman's change catch and hold her attention, until that is...
The gunshot causes a series of actions to occur. First she jumps back a good foot on both feet, landing on her butt in the pathway dirt. The ringing in her rings disorients her for a few seconds...before registering just what Imogen had done.
It knocks the air out of her. Until she blinks her eyes, and comes back to the real world.
"Oh my god...you...oh god..okay...relax....we're cool".
[Cigney] ((the ringing in her EARS - edit))
[Slaughter] The man only has enough time to make an abortive sound, like a gag in his throat before the report of the gun swallows all sound. After that, his brain is less than oatmeal, and he makes no more sound.
This close, the gun drives gunpowder beneath his skin. This close, the bullet tears skin, shatters bone, distorting the skull, bevelling in at the front and bevelling out the back.
A fine spray of blood flecks the kinwoman's pale face, her mouth sealed shut, her nostrils tight in distaste.
The body goes slack in her hand, slumping forward. She lets go his shoulder and pushes the body backward slightly, letting it fall. The once-man-now-corpse falls with as much control as a sack of potatoes. Flaccid with death, the body is merely skin over bones, as if the muscles did not exist at all.
Imogen lowers the weapon, puts her finger on the trigger guard, casting a glance to Cigney, on her bottom on the pathway dirt.
"Yes," she says, her own voice sounding muted to her ears, overlaid by the ringing. "We are. Best get to your feet."
And with that, she turns her gaze toward Roman and the dogs, then the pair of men, her eyes narrowing. She judges distance, location before she acts.
[Kora] The pair of dogs don't stop for Roman. Blood sprays from their maws as they charge, and the men standing on the jogging path watch with a - still certain level of calm, until the gunshots ring out. The man with the black box punches hard at the controls, while the other reaches for a weapon. Some ozone scent sparks in the air around the dogs, which reminds Roman of the scent of an electrified fence out on the prairie as current arcs through the collars, but the animals have blood in their mouths, and a scent to follow.
One surges forward, leaping in a snarling arc at Roman. The other runs wide, sweeping past him, cresting the hill, coming into view of the two kinswoman down the slope.
Down below - the pair of human figures look at each other. One shoves the radio antenna back down into the black box from which it protrudes, then both start to run.
[Slaughter] +9
HAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1
[Roman Turner] Inti.
+9
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10
[Cigney] 6
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3
[Kora] Inits: ZombieSpot 1 +5
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 6
[Kora] Inits: Hungry Rover: +6
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1
[Kora] Roman: 19
Spot: 11
Imogen: 10
Cigney: 9
Rover: 7
[Kora] Rover: 1: RUN to homeless dude. Rage 1: OM NOM NOM (eat homeless dude)
[Slaughter] As the animal races toward them, Imogen speaks without looking at Cigney, already lifting her weapon.
"Get behind me."
[Cigney] At Imogen's words, Cigney pulls herself up and looks to the man...then to the crest of the hill. She braces herself as Rover comes running over...to eat the dead guy. She watches, not sure what to do.
[Slaughter] (Split-Actions!
1. SHOOT PUPPY - 3rb
2. SHOOT PUPPY - 1)
[Kora] Spot: 1. BITE Roman. Rage 1: BITE Roman.
[Roman Turner] 1WP for Resist Pain
1a Bite dog
1b Bite dog
1r Bite dog
[Roman Turner] 1a bite dog
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 5) Re-rolls: 1
[Roman Turner] damn
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Kora] Soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 2, 6, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Roman Turner] 1b bite
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Roman Turner] damn
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 4, 4, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Kora] Soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 6, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Cigney] [i][/i]
[Kora] Spot: BITE Roman!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 (Failure at target 5)
[Slaughter] Three round burst!
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Slaughter] KABLAM!
HAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Kora] Rover: soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 2 (Botch x 1 at target 6)
[Slaughter] second shot!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 3, 5, 6, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6) [WP] Re-rolls: 2
[Slaughter] Damage! HAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Kora] Soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 7, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Roman Turner] 1r bite dog!
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 5, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 5) Re-rolls: 2
[Roman Turner] damn
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 1, 3, 3, 5, 5, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[Kora] Spot: Bite Roman!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 5, 8 (Success x 1 at target 5)
[Kora] Damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 6 (Failure at target 6)
[Kora] There is a snarling confrontation between the hispo-formed Garou and the dog - the dog that cannot be a real dog, that cannot be merely a dog. No dog would go charging at a Garou. No dog would throw itself into the confrontation, snarling and snapping.
The second beast, the smaller of the two - some mixed breed, maybe fifty pounds if that, with short white fur and an odd sort of - tinge to its coat, vaguely green. The animals eyes are all black, and its maw is bloody. It streaks down the slope of the hill, a spray of blood and bone as Imogen wings it with her first burt of gunfire. Its progress is arrested, it overshoots the homeless man by a good foot, kicking up mud as it turns and churns back to the corpse, snuffling through the body, rooting around until it snags the the edge of that new-looking scarf wrapped around the man's neck.
The animal seizes and tears at the scarf, a sort of savage glee evident as it pulls it out, shaking its head as if it had found its prey, then swings its head toward the pair of kinswoman, a low growl resonant through its frame.
[Kora] [I am not going to reroll init!]
Roman: 19
Spot: 11
Imogen: 10
Cigney: 9
Rover: 7
[Kora] Rover: 1. Noxious breath! Rage 1: Bite Imogen!
[Cigney] She stares down the dog and lines up for a field goal kick.
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 6, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 7) [WP]
[Cigney] ((Sorry!))
[Slaughter] (split action 4 ways
Fire
fire
fire
fire+WP)
[Kora] Spot. 1. Bite Roman! Rage 1: BITE ROMAN.
[Roman Turner] 1a bite dog
1b Bite dog
1r Bite dog
[Roman Turner]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 3, 5, 7, 8 (Success x 1 at target 5)
[Roman Turner] Damn
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 4, 6, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Kora] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Roman Turner] 1b Bite
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 5, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 4 at target 5)
[Roman Turner] damn
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[Kora] Soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 4, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Kora] x.x
[Slaughter] Shoot 1
HAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 4) Re-rolls: 1
[Slaughter] Damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Kora] Soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 4, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Slaughter] Shoot 2
HAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 3, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 4)
[Slaughter] COME ON KAHSEENO!
DAMAGE!!!!!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 4, 5, 5, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Kora] Soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 3 (Failure at target 6)
[Slaughter] RAR!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 5, 5 (Success x 2 at target 4)
[Slaughter] GRRRR!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Kora] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 7 (Failure at target 6)
[Slaughter] RARRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 2, 8 (Success x 1 at target 4)
[Slaughter] (ack, meant to spend WP there)
[Slaughter] DIE MUTHAFUCKA!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Kora] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 5, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Cigney] Damage
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 4, 7, 10
[Cigney] Strength?
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 1, 9
[Kora] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Cigney] ((*sigh*))
[Kora] Noxious breath:
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 3, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Cigney]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 4, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Slaughter] stamina! FINGERS CROSSED!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 2, 9 (Failure at target 6)
[Kora] Spot: BITE Imogen!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 7 (Success x 2 at target 5)
[Kora] Damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Slaughter] SOAK!
HAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Kora] Roman: 19
Spot: x.x
Imogen: 10
Cigney: 9
Rover: 7
[Kora] Rover: 1. BITE Imogen.
[Slaughter] Split actions x3 - shoot, shoot, shoot.
[Kora] (Cigney: Kick! per my discussion with Moon. I think she's having a slow-posting-thing)
[Roman Turner] 1a bite rover
1b bite rover
1r kill rover
[Roman Turner] bite rover
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 10 (Success x 5 at target 5) Re-rolls: 1
[Roman Turner] damn
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 3, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Kora] Soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 4, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Kora] x.x
[Kora] Roman - in a forward position at the crest of the small slope closest to the tree - tears into the first of the dogs, finally ending its life with a snarl. There is a faint tang in his mouth, the ozone sensation of electricity from the radio collar around the beast's neck.
Downslope, the second animal yanks free the pale blue scarf from the homeless man's corpse, snuffling in triumph, then turns on the pair of kinswoman. Imogen stands straight, calmly letting off four separate shots right into the animal's chest and back, while Cigney fearlessly aims a kick at its ribs, feeling one of the crack.
The animal is tougher than anyone could expect, though, and does not fall. Instead, it breathes out a cloud of noxious gas, enough to turn Cigney's stomach and burn Imogen's sclera and the soft tissues of her nose and mouth as she inhales.
Roman is now streaking down the hill toward the pair, kicking up grass and debris as he runs. The dog turns on Imogen, though, baring its teeth in a snarl as bites her right arm, tearing away a chunk of flesh.
Roman is there before either Cigney or Imogen can breath or think, though, and finally the Garou tears the grievously wounded dog to pieces.
It does not rise. That pale blue scarf flutters in the breeze, and a radio collar is around its neck.
The two men visible down on the jogging path are long gone by now, disappeared down the riverfront.
[Slaughter] The animal falls, and Imogen turns away from Garou, kin and corpses to spit bloody onto the grass, once, twice, and then once more. She inhales sharply through her nose as she turns back one hand briefly covering her bloodied arm.
Her eyes shut - two seconds, three, and then she draws in another breath, sinking to a crouch.
It is not an uncontrolled movement, the beginnings of a collapse, but something deliberate and strong. She uses her left hand to turn the dog corpses head, fingering the collar before she begins to slide her fingers, quickly becoming slick with the animal's blood around the collar to find its clasp.
[Roman Turner] He snapped back to homid. Gone was the shirt he'd worn, but sure enough there was the Stetson, jeans and boots. Ugly burn scarring mottled his torso. He was breathing like a freight train as he reached for Imogen even as she went down to feel for the collar. In his mind, Imogen was going down for the count. So he reached out and tried to send what little bit of a gift he had through Imogen.
Mother's Touch
[Cigney] As the violence ends, Cigney looks at the carnage with a blank gaze. A little shell shocked. She's a half breed after all, and her upbringing was a good part human. As Imogen has problems, Cigney doesn't respond except to ask.
So what happens now?
The voice is emotionless. Any sunshine this girl possessed is gone.
[Slaughter] Imogen moves sharply away from Roman's reaching touch - intuiting his purpose.
"Save it," she says. "I'm not badly injured."
[Slaughter] The edges of her voice are hoarse, but the words are clear when she speaks. The blood does not wash from her arm so much as seep, darkening the already dark fabric of her blazer. She answers Cigney as she begins to undo the collar.
"We need t'clean th'area o' the bodies and dispose o' them."
A glance at the girl, a brief pause. "It's your choice if you participate or not."
[Roman Turner] Imogen said she was ok as he reached for her in his concern and sent what little bit of a gift he had her way.
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6) [WP]
[Cigney] She looks at Imogen with a dead panned gaze, like she'd been insulted.
BBQ then? We don't have a whole lot of time. Make it look like an accident.
Her nature has changed. She's kinda there, but not really there at all...walking over to homeless man to pick up the bandage she'd ripped from her t-shirt. Figuring to put it to use on Imogen instead.
[Roman Turner] His half wild gaze swept Cigney, looking for signs of injury as he spoke.
"They done got away? That ain't gonna work."
Then Cigney mentions BBQ and for a moment that wildness in his eyes actually looked like he might consider it.
"Ain't allowed to eat humans. That's the Law. Gonna have to get the trash bags and stuff 'em in."
He was still bristled as he looked the way the men had run. It rankled him to no end.
"I think they were experimenting with them collars. Like that Frankenstein fella."
[Slaughter] She turns sharply on Roman as he touches her anyway, her body arching away from his fingers. It is too late, however, and a blue spark paces between him and her as she leans away. Her teeth grit as tendrils of gnosis work its way through her body, forcing wounds to heal faster than she is accustomed.
A second passes.
"The next time I say don't touch me," she says, coldly. "I would appreciate it if you would not do so anyway."
A glance at Cigney, "Two dogs were mauled by a Garou in a form which does not exist to human minds, a homeless man killed by wild dogs, another bitten, shot, then gnawed at. We can't make this look like an accident."
Her irritation is diffused, unfocused.
She holds the collar in one hand, gesturing briefly toward the other bodies a little ways away, "Can yeh gather these?" to Roman, she speaks, "get the collar off th'other as well. I'll get my car."
[Cigney] "I mean torching the bodies to ash ..."
Cigney looks up over at the tree.
"We could drag these three up and light the tree..."
[Roman Turner] He didn't argue with Imogen because it wouldn't do any good on either end. Both were stubborn as the day was long and both would continue their hard headed ways. No need to waste breath. Instead he touched the brim if that hat with a faint cant of his head.
"I'm on it."
And he was headed back up the hill. Scarring ran up over his shoulder and around from his ribs like fingers across his back in that ugly mottling of skin that looked too thin, too stretched out after a burn. A faint muttering faded with distance as he climbed the hill.
"Dang stubborn hard headed pretty as the rising sun....death of me...I swear if I...."
[Slaughter] "We'll do it elsewhere," she says to Cigney, reaching into her blazer pocket for her car keys, "where we can control th'burn and stoke it and not ha' t'leave the bodies in the open afterwards."
A tilt of her head, deliberate, "C'mon, yeh can help me bring th'body bags."
She's done this before. There is a sense of habit in this.
[Cigney] She doesn't argue, how could she? For all the good she'd done, they might as well have had Lucy Cavanagh with them. Her shame runs deep, so deep she goes silent. Doing whatever it is Imogen orders her to do.
Cigney puts the t-shirt strip in her pocket and follows.
[Slaughter] Imogen glances at Cigney as they walk, her eyes penetrating, aware. Still, she does nothing to break the younger kinfolk's shamed silence. She merely leads the way to her car - an old model Volvo with rust and peeling paint and ... well, body bags in the back.
They move the car closer then disembark to dispose of the bodies, as the night grows later. Roman dismembers the bodies and they are piled into the deep trunk, already lined with plastic. All are bloody by the end, all are sweaty.
Later, they stand near the water beneath an overpass, silent now due to the hour. A fire has been burning now for some time, the smell ironically pleasant, particularly for those who are hungry. Imogen has kept her attention on the fire and does not say much.
When the bodies are consumed to ash and bone, they are dumped back into the body bags. What Imogen does with them after that - neither knows beyond the fact they are returned to her trunk to make much smaller piles than they had before.
She'll drive them home, if they need it, remote and unapproachable in her silence.
As for Cigney, she'd decided to come on down to the river and do a little bit of clean up. She's got a pair of extra gloves and some trash bags she'd kept in the trunk of her car from the major clean-up Trent had organized last week. Having promised herself she'd stop by every now and again to help maintain that cleanliness.
Every once in a while she'll pause and look at at the river from the bank, and then continue picking up the litter she could see. First along the river, and then double back along the brush line.
[Kora] The riverfront here is debris filled, despite the dent Cigney and the rest of the kin and Garou made the week before last. There's a narrow strip of green, though the grass is mostly dead now after two solid weeks without rain, and long, hard slope down to the water's edge. The neighborhood is a mixture of abandoned industrial buildings, old warehouses that once serviced the city's once-thriving docks, and modest housing for the poor. The few businesses revolve around money and alcohol - check cashing places, payday loan stores, pawn shops line the dull streets closer to the housing developments.
The city has made its attempts to beautify the riverfront, though. There's a jogging path cut into the slope half-way down, and a walk paved with old brick pavers at the top, with 15 year old historical markers, discussing the river, the city, its milestones. As Cigney works her way through the debris close to one of the sets of access stairs tucked into the slope of the hill, she sees a human shadow emerge from the shade of one of the trees along the waterfront.
She's circled that tree twice today, maybe skirting just a bit out of range. A pair of homeless men had been sitting beneath the branches, visible really only from below, and then only when one had reason to look up. She marked them more by the pungent scent of their clothes at first, and then - avoided them, wisely, the rest of the way. The pair appeared to be well on their way toward passing out, sharing a bottle out between them.
The figure is walking with that - swaying gait of a drunk, one hand out. He has a big trenchcoat open, the suggestion of filthy clothing underneath, but mostly he's enshadowed. And something: some change in sound. He's breathing - huffing, like one of her clients when he's reached the limit on the treadmill - like someone in pain.
[Slaughter] "Roman," she calls after him, raising her voice enough to be heard - loud enough for Cigney to hear her.
"Gi' it back, will yeh?"
She holds out her hand, as she steps forward, closing the distance between them both, an eyebrow arching - one of her best 'I am not amused' expressions.
It is a second or two later that she sees Cigney not too far away, the figure approaching her. She lifts her hand to indicate them, her gaze flicking briefly toward the water, then back again.
[Cigney] Busy working, Cigney still seems attentive to her whereabouts. Kind of like a deer in that respect, her head lifting every now and again. That's when she caught the shadow, and her actions became still. How did it get so late, so fast? Deciding to give up for the day.
Then she hears Imogen's voice. She ties the garbage bag and places it off to the side, then removes the gloves and tucks them into the back pocket of her broken in blue jeans.
Her gaze watches for Imogen...still...
[Roman Turner] "Oh come on, I promised not to drive in to the river, remember?"
He was walking backwards, waiting for Imogen to catch up and retrieve her keys when she lifted her hand to indicate something behind him a bit. Turning with the smile still on his face. It wasn't till he recognized Cigney that his face flamed.
[Slaughter] As Roman turns, distracted by Cigney, and is distracted, his face flaming, the kinwoman darts forward - her body as succinct as her speech and snatches her keys from his hand.
They jangle gently as she palms them, stepping back and slipping them in her pocket.
Her gaze flicks from Child of Gaia to Fenrir kin, silent for a second before she tilts her head Cigney's way. "C'mon."
[Roman Turner] He just got pass seeing Cigney when Imogen's, "C'mon" came. Nodding quickly he picked up the pace to keep up with Imogen.
"Why's she out here this late playing with trash?"
Lifting his voice he called out a different version of that question.
"Hey, don'tcha know it ain't safe to be out around the river after dark?"
His hand lifted and he pointed at what in his mind had to be a flasher heading towards Cigney.
"Best step away partner! Put that little pea shooter back in the holster!"
[Cigney] At Imogen's beckon and seeing Roman, Cigney smiles and nods but then remembers the shadow and turns away from them momentarily with a curious gaze.
[Kora] The man's shadow looms - larger than he does, really, as if he had been somehow doubled. It is a trick of the failing light, this. The way his ratty old trench coat billows open, the way his extra layers of clothing fill it up, bulk him through the shoulders and the torso.
That scent expands out from him, too. The odor of a body gone too long without washing, with an admixture of urine, feces, and cheap alcohol as top notes. His clothing is stiff with filth. There are leaves trailing from the bottom hem of the coat. There are leaves stuck in his matted hair.
"Hey! - " he says, as he stumbles over the rise. The top of the tree is visible, and the canopy is shaking as if the wind were blowing through it. There is no wind, though - or rather, if there is a wind, it skims higher across the curve of the earth, touching the tree limbs without disturbing a hair on Cigney's head. Imogen and Roman have spotted both Cigney and the homeless man staggering toward her, " - hey! Lady! Hey lady! Hey!"
He shouts, over and over as he stumbles down a sharp dip in the slope. "You gotta phone! You gotta phone? My buddy - there's these - he needs - "
There's urgency in the man's raw voice, and fear. His tones are thready, not booming as she would expect from someone his size. And as he staggers toward her, the light changes. There's blood spattered over his grizzled features in a stippled array.
There's blood on his hand, a jagged sort of wound that reminds her of teeth, tearing into meat.
[Cigney] The silvery grey eyes widen at the sight of it. Both of her hands come up to her mouth, pressing there tightly to subdue any scream that might have escaped. The sight, the smell, the sound of her heartbeat resounding in her ears...the bells and whistles go off, and she acts as she's been taught.
The tree enters into her thoughts only for a moment. She then puts her finger to her lips and tries to hush the man, crouching down low and motioning for him to do the same.
[Slaughter] The man staggers toward Cigney, and Imogen raises her voice again as she picks up the pace, "OI." This as Cigney presses her hands to her mouth. "Back off." She hears some of it .
The distance is quickly covered, the slight redhaired woman's nose pinching in well-bred disgust at the smell of the homelessness and the addictions that go with it. She sinks to a crunch if the man does, reaching out to take his hand firmly by the wrist, turning it so she can see it, even as she presses down on the arteries which feed the hand, slowing blood from the wound.
She can feel the layer of filth on his skin, the smell of his clothes.
"Where's your friend?" she'd only heard the end of it but she catches on quickly enough, her gaze touching the wound and then moving significantly to Roman, meeting his gaze.
[Slaughter] (err - ix-nay on the "she hears some of it"-ay.)
[Roman Turner] His muscles tensed as the scent of blood and filth touched him. All it took was that and the look from Imogen before he was passing them up to head towards the direction the man had come from with a muttered.
"I'll take a look."
[Cigney] As Imogen looks to the injured man, and Roman passes them to find out what's going on, Cigney stays with Imogen and tries to understand what's going on. This sort of thing is coming new to her. She hadn't had any problems in Chicago thus far.
"What in the hell did this?"
She whispers to Imogen, then looks over her shoulder to where Roman has gone.
"Should I follow him?"
[Slaughter] "Stay," Imogen's response is immediate and brooks no argument. Still her gaze follows Roman as he moves, and her head remains tilted like an animal listening for nearby sounds.
"You have a deep wound," she says clearly to the homeless man, "Yeh need a hospital. Must ha' been quite a dog which did this, wasn't it?"
[Kora] "He's - He's - He's - " the homeless man collapses to his knees a handful of feet from Cigney, his arms dropping open, second hand falling away from the first. Blood flows freely in that moment until Imogen arrives, reaches out, finds the artery and stops the bleeding. The man is in his fifties, with four-days growth of grizzled beard over his cheek and spots of blood dappled over his features like pieces of a pointillistic painting. "You got a phone, lady? He's - under the - "
The only clean piece of clothing on the man is a perfectly fine scarf, wrapped 'round his neck. The fabric is soft, made more for fashion than for function, and mostly hidden underneath his foul trench, revealed only when it drops open as he falls.
"Fucking - " he's still breathing heavily, woozy from blood loss and shock, " - doberman. Rottie. Wolf - big fucking - "
Roman cuts by the two kinswomen, past the wounded man and crests the small hill. The branches of the tree spead out in a low circle, close to the ground. There's a body, splayed out underneath the branches, and a pair of dark shapes, canine or lupine, nosing their way across the body, tearing away hunks of flesh. Along the jogging trail, a pair of men stand, watching. One of them has a small black box in hand. When Roman comes into view, one of them looks up and curses to the other, then turns something on the dial of what looks like the controller for a radio-controlled car, complete with a small antenna jutting out from the little black box.
One of the animals whines and snaps. Then, the two of them turn and streak toward Roman.
[Cigney] Her gaze follows Roman, but does as the Dr. orders. Looking down at the man and his wound, Cigney grabs the bottom of her thread bare t-shirt and lifts it to her mouth. With the material firmly between her teeth, she pulls and rips the t-shirt up the length of her torso. Her hands then do the rest to tear a band clear off her mid-drift, successfully making a binding for Imogen to use. Be it bandage or tourniquet.
[Roman Turner] He has a fraction of a second to register what was going on before the dogs were racing towards him. There on the crest of the hill his dark form shifted and where had stood a dude in a Stetson and jeans, was now a big ole prehistoric wolf shape as he snap shifted to Hispo. Fur bristled along the ridge of his spine and his muscles bunched as he gathered himself to leap in to the fray.
[Slaughter] "I haven't got a phone," Imogen lies quietly, casting Cigney a sharp, quelling glance as she reaches out to take the fabric, "but my friend will see to your friend."
She hears the sound of growling, the snarls of dogs, and then, abruptly, the low snarling grow of a Garou in hispo, his form between the monster and wolf.
Imogen looks up at the beast, then down again at the homeless man, her hand releasing his wrist to come and close firmly on his shoulder while the other reaches beneath her jacket to the small her back.
She'd mentioned something once. How she'd take no chances with this.
Her features are a mask, her jaw set. She removes the safety of her weapon before she pulls it out. It's a rough night to be human.
She never speaks or warns Cigney, nor her victim as she points it at the homeless man, just a half foot away from her and fires entirely without hesitation or warning.
[Slaughter] ("entirely without hesitation or expression")
[Cigney] The sound the dogs, and the sight of Roman's change catch and hold her attention, until that is...
The gunshot causes a series of actions to occur. First she jumps back a good foot on both feet, landing on her butt in the pathway dirt. The ringing in her rings disorients her for a few seconds...before registering just what Imogen had done.
It knocks the air out of her. Until she blinks her eyes, and comes back to the real world.
"Oh my god...you...oh god..okay...relax....we're cool".
[Cigney] ((the ringing in her EARS - edit))
[Slaughter] The man only has enough time to make an abortive sound, like a gag in his throat before the report of the gun swallows all sound. After that, his brain is less than oatmeal, and he makes no more sound.
This close, the gun drives gunpowder beneath his skin. This close, the bullet tears skin, shatters bone, distorting the skull, bevelling in at the front and bevelling out the back.
A fine spray of blood flecks the kinwoman's pale face, her mouth sealed shut, her nostrils tight in distaste.
The body goes slack in her hand, slumping forward. She lets go his shoulder and pushes the body backward slightly, letting it fall. The once-man-now-corpse falls with as much control as a sack of potatoes. Flaccid with death, the body is merely skin over bones, as if the muscles did not exist at all.
Imogen lowers the weapon, puts her finger on the trigger guard, casting a glance to Cigney, on her bottom on the pathway dirt.
"Yes," she says, her own voice sounding muted to her ears, overlaid by the ringing. "We are. Best get to your feet."
And with that, she turns her gaze toward Roman and the dogs, then the pair of men, her eyes narrowing. She judges distance, location before she acts.
[Kora] The pair of dogs don't stop for Roman. Blood sprays from their maws as they charge, and the men standing on the jogging path watch with a - still certain level of calm, until the gunshots ring out. The man with the black box punches hard at the controls, while the other reaches for a weapon. Some ozone scent sparks in the air around the dogs, which reminds Roman of the scent of an electrified fence out on the prairie as current arcs through the collars, but the animals have blood in their mouths, and a scent to follow.
One surges forward, leaping in a snarling arc at Roman. The other runs wide, sweeping past him, cresting the hill, coming into view of the two kinswoman down the slope.
Down below - the pair of human figures look at each other. One shoves the radio antenna back down into the black box from which it protrudes, then both start to run.
[Slaughter] +9
HAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1
[Roman Turner] Inti.
+9
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10
[Cigney] 6
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3
[Kora] Inits: ZombieSpot 1 +5
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 6
[Kora] Inits: Hungry Rover: +6
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1
[Kora] Roman: 19
Spot: 11
Imogen: 10
Cigney: 9
Rover: 7
[Kora] Rover: 1: RUN to homeless dude. Rage 1: OM NOM NOM (eat homeless dude)
[Slaughter] As the animal races toward them, Imogen speaks without looking at Cigney, already lifting her weapon.
"Get behind me."
[Cigney] At Imogen's words, Cigney pulls herself up and looks to the man...then to the crest of the hill. She braces herself as Rover comes running over...to eat the dead guy. She watches, not sure what to do.
[Slaughter] (Split-Actions!
1. SHOOT PUPPY - 3rb
2. SHOOT PUPPY - 1)
[Kora] Spot: 1. BITE Roman. Rage 1: BITE Roman.
[Roman Turner] 1WP for Resist Pain
1a Bite dog
1b Bite dog
1r Bite dog
[Roman Turner] 1a bite dog
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 5) Re-rolls: 1
[Roman Turner] damn
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Kora] Soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 2, 6, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Roman Turner] 1b bite
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Roman Turner] damn
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 4, 4, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Kora] Soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 6, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Cigney] [i][/i]
[Kora] Spot: BITE Roman!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 (Failure at target 5)
[Slaughter] Three round burst!
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Slaughter] KABLAM!
HAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Kora] Rover: soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 2 (Botch x 1 at target 6)
[Slaughter] second shot!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 3, 5, 6, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6) [WP] Re-rolls: 2
[Slaughter] Damage! HAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Kora] Soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 7, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Roman Turner] 1r bite dog!
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 5, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 5) Re-rolls: 2
[Roman Turner] damn
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 1, 3, 3, 5, 5, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[Kora] Spot: Bite Roman!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 5, 8 (Success x 1 at target 5)
[Kora] Damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 6 (Failure at target 6)
[Kora] There is a snarling confrontation between the hispo-formed Garou and the dog - the dog that cannot be a real dog, that cannot be merely a dog. No dog would go charging at a Garou. No dog would throw itself into the confrontation, snarling and snapping.
The second beast, the smaller of the two - some mixed breed, maybe fifty pounds if that, with short white fur and an odd sort of - tinge to its coat, vaguely green. The animals eyes are all black, and its maw is bloody. It streaks down the slope of the hill, a spray of blood and bone as Imogen wings it with her first burt of gunfire. Its progress is arrested, it overshoots the homeless man by a good foot, kicking up mud as it turns and churns back to the corpse, snuffling through the body, rooting around until it snags the the edge of that new-looking scarf wrapped around the man's neck.
The animal seizes and tears at the scarf, a sort of savage glee evident as it pulls it out, shaking its head as if it had found its prey, then swings its head toward the pair of kinswoman, a low growl resonant through its frame.
[Kora] [I am not going to reroll init!]
Roman: 19
Spot: 11
Imogen: 10
Cigney: 9
Rover: 7
[Kora] Rover: 1. Noxious breath! Rage 1: Bite Imogen!
[Cigney] She stares down the dog and lines up for a field goal kick.
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 6, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 7) [WP]
[Cigney] ((Sorry!))
[Slaughter] (split action 4 ways
Fire
fire
fire
fire+WP)
[Kora] Spot. 1. Bite Roman! Rage 1: BITE ROMAN.
[Roman Turner] 1a bite dog
1b Bite dog
1r Bite dog
[Roman Turner]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 3, 5, 7, 8 (Success x 1 at target 5)
[Roman Turner] Damn
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 4, 6, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Kora] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Roman Turner] 1b Bite
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 5, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 4 at target 5)
[Roman Turner] damn
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[Kora] Soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 4, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Kora] x.x
[Slaughter] Shoot 1
HAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 4) Re-rolls: 1
[Slaughter] Damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Kora] Soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 4, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Slaughter] Shoot 2
HAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 3, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 4)
[Slaughter] COME ON KAHSEENO!
DAMAGE!!!!!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 4, 5, 5, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Kora] Soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 3 (Failure at target 6)
[Slaughter] RAR!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 5, 5 (Success x 2 at target 4)
[Slaughter] GRRRR!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Kora] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 7 (Failure at target 6)
[Slaughter] RARRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 2, 8 (Success x 1 at target 4)
[Slaughter] (ack, meant to spend WP there)
[Slaughter] DIE MUTHAFUCKA!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Kora] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 5, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Cigney] Damage
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 4, 7, 10
[Cigney] Strength?
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 1, 9
[Kora] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Cigney] ((*sigh*))
[Kora] Noxious breath:
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 3, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Cigney]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 4, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Slaughter] stamina! FINGERS CROSSED!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 2, 9 (Failure at target 6)
[Kora] Spot: BITE Imogen!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 7 (Success x 2 at target 5)
[Kora] Damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Slaughter] SOAK!
HAIL KAHSEENO!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Kora] Roman: 19
Spot: x.x
Imogen: 10
Cigney: 9
Rover: 7
[Kora] Rover: 1. BITE Imogen.
[Slaughter] Split actions x3 - shoot, shoot, shoot.
[Kora] (Cigney: Kick! per my discussion with Moon. I think she's having a slow-posting-thing)
[Roman Turner] 1a bite rover
1b bite rover
1r kill rover
[Roman Turner] bite rover
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 10 (Success x 5 at target 5) Re-rolls: 1
[Roman Turner] damn
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 3, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Kora] Soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 4, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Kora] x.x
[Kora] Roman - in a forward position at the crest of the small slope closest to the tree - tears into the first of the dogs, finally ending its life with a snarl. There is a faint tang in his mouth, the ozone sensation of electricity from the radio collar around the beast's neck.
Downslope, the second animal yanks free the pale blue scarf from the homeless man's corpse, snuffling in triumph, then turns on the pair of kinswoman. Imogen stands straight, calmly letting off four separate shots right into the animal's chest and back, while Cigney fearlessly aims a kick at its ribs, feeling one of the crack.
The animal is tougher than anyone could expect, though, and does not fall. Instead, it breathes out a cloud of noxious gas, enough to turn Cigney's stomach and burn Imogen's sclera and the soft tissues of her nose and mouth as she inhales.
Roman is now streaking down the hill toward the pair, kicking up grass and debris as he runs. The dog turns on Imogen, though, baring its teeth in a snarl as bites her right arm, tearing away a chunk of flesh.
Roman is there before either Cigney or Imogen can breath or think, though, and finally the Garou tears the grievously wounded dog to pieces.
It does not rise. That pale blue scarf flutters in the breeze, and a radio collar is around its neck.
The two men visible down on the jogging path are long gone by now, disappeared down the riverfront.
[Slaughter] The animal falls, and Imogen turns away from Garou, kin and corpses to spit bloody onto the grass, once, twice, and then once more. She inhales sharply through her nose as she turns back one hand briefly covering her bloodied arm.
Her eyes shut - two seconds, three, and then she draws in another breath, sinking to a crouch.
It is not an uncontrolled movement, the beginnings of a collapse, but something deliberate and strong. She uses her left hand to turn the dog corpses head, fingering the collar before she begins to slide her fingers, quickly becoming slick with the animal's blood around the collar to find its clasp.
[Roman Turner] He snapped back to homid. Gone was the shirt he'd worn, but sure enough there was the Stetson, jeans and boots. Ugly burn scarring mottled his torso. He was breathing like a freight train as he reached for Imogen even as she went down to feel for the collar. In his mind, Imogen was going down for the count. So he reached out and tried to send what little bit of a gift he had through Imogen.
Mother's Touch
[Cigney] As the violence ends, Cigney looks at the carnage with a blank gaze. A little shell shocked. She's a half breed after all, and her upbringing was a good part human. As Imogen has problems, Cigney doesn't respond except to ask.
So what happens now?
The voice is emotionless. Any sunshine this girl possessed is gone.
[Slaughter] Imogen moves sharply away from Roman's reaching touch - intuiting his purpose.
"Save it," she says. "I'm not badly injured."
[Slaughter] The edges of her voice are hoarse, but the words are clear when she speaks. The blood does not wash from her arm so much as seep, darkening the already dark fabric of her blazer. She answers Cigney as she begins to undo the collar.
"We need t'clean th'area o' the bodies and dispose o' them."
A glance at the girl, a brief pause. "It's your choice if you participate or not."
[Roman Turner] Imogen said she was ok as he reached for her in his concern and sent what little bit of a gift he had her way.
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6) [WP]
[Cigney] She looks at Imogen with a dead panned gaze, like she'd been insulted.
BBQ then? We don't have a whole lot of time. Make it look like an accident.
Her nature has changed. She's kinda there, but not really there at all...walking over to homeless man to pick up the bandage she'd ripped from her t-shirt. Figuring to put it to use on Imogen instead.
[Roman Turner] His half wild gaze swept Cigney, looking for signs of injury as he spoke.
"They done got away? That ain't gonna work."
Then Cigney mentions BBQ and for a moment that wildness in his eyes actually looked like he might consider it.
"Ain't allowed to eat humans. That's the Law. Gonna have to get the trash bags and stuff 'em in."
He was still bristled as he looked the way the men had run. It rankled him to no end.
"I think they were experimenting with them collars. Like that Frankenstein fella."
[Slaughter] She turns sharply on Roman as he touches her anyway, her body arching away from his fingers. It is too late, however, and a blue spark paces between him and her as she leans away. Her teeth grit as tendrils of gnosis work its way through her body, forcing wounds to heal faster than she is accustomed.
A second passes.
"The next time I say don't touch me," she says, coldly. "I would appreciate it if you would not do so anyway."
A glance at Cigney, "Two dogs were mauled by a Garou in a form which does not exist to human minds, a homeless man killed by wild dogs, another bitten, shot, then gnawed at. We can't make this look like an accident."
Her irritation is diffused, unfocused.
She holds the collar in one hand, gesturing briefly toward the other bodies a little ways away, "Can yeh gather these?" to Roman, she speaks, "get the collar off th'other as well. I'll get my car."
[Cigney] "I mean torching the bodies to ash ..."
Cigney looks up over at the tree.
"We could drag these three up and light the tree..."
[Roman Turner] He didn't argue with Imogen because it wouldn't do any good on either end. Both were stubborn as the day was long and both would continue their hard headed ways. No need to waste breath. Instead he touched the brim if that hat with a faint cant of his head.
"I'm on it."
And he was headed back up the hill. Scarring ran up over his shoulder and around from his ribs like fingers across his back in that ugly mottling of skin that looked too thin, too stretched out after a burn. A faint muttering faded with distance as he climbed the hill.
"Dang stubborn hard headed pretty as the rising sun....death of me...I swear if I...."
[Slaughter] "We'll do it elsewhere," she says to Cigney, reaching into her blazer pocket for her car keys, "where we can control th'burn and stoke it and not ha' t'leave the bodies in the open afterwards."
A tilt of her head, deliberate, "C'mon, yeh can help me bring th'body bags."
She's done this before. There is a sense of habit in this.
[Cigney] She doesn't argue, how could she? For all the good she'd done, they might as well have had Lucy Cavanagh with them. Her shame runs deep, so deep she goes silent. Doing whatever it is Imogen orders her to do.
Cigney puts the t-shirt strip in her pocket and follows.
[Slaughter] Imogen glances at Cigney as they walk, her eyes penetrating, aware. Still, she does nothing to break the younger kinfolk's shamed silence. She merely leads the way to her car - an old model Volvo with rust and peeling paint and ... well, body bags in the back.
They move the car closer then disembark to dispose of the bodies, as the night grows later. Roman dismembers the bodies and they are piled into the deep trunk, already lined with plastic. All are bloody by the end, all are sweaty.
Later, they stand near the water beneath an overpass, silent now due to the hour. A fire has been burning now for some time, the smell ironically pleasant, particularly for those who are hungry. Imogen has kept her attention on the fire and does not say much.
When the bodies are consumed to ash and bone, they are dumped back into the body bags. What Imogen does with them after that - neither knows beyond the fact they are returned to her trunk to make much smaller piles than they had before.
She'll drive them home, if they need it, remote and unapproachable in her silence.
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