Ivan Press

[harbinger.] [Ground Rules:

1. Keep track of your own health and tempers.
2. PM any off-limits imagery or themes.
3. PM any flaws, etc. to me now (phobias, compulsions, and the like).
4. 10 minutes (preferably less) to IC post, 3 minutes to declare, 2 minutes to roll.
5. MT if you like but keep up in here.
6. Questions go in the AIMchat. Do not IM me. If I don't answer, I'm probably posting. If it's vital, PM me once in the Jovechat.
7. Setup post in 10 or less!]

[harbinger.] Fairmount Cemetary spans several blocks. It lives across the street from a lovely suburb with its own elementary school, a playground, and a dog park. Less than a mile away is a shopping center where there are gift shops, chain restaurants, a fountain, an ice creamery. Nannies take children on walks in expensive strollers; dogs trot alongside their masters excitedly.

And then there is Fairmount, a dark place even in broad daylight. It was Electric Sky who brought this place to the attention of his Alpha, Bleeding Heart. In turn, she told Evens the Odds, who spoke to the Garou patrolling the caern tonight as their shift was ending. Politely, but firmly, they were essentially sent out here to check out the 'disturbance' that the Ritesmistress's pack spoke of. It's probably nothing. They can check it out and then go get some rest.

Ivan, well. He just happened to be unlucky enough to be near enough the bawn to get spotted and sent along with them.


The 'disturbances' started out mild enough, just rumor and hearsay. Noises in the graveyard after dark. A lingering fog long after sunlight should have overtaken it. Statues weeping blood. This is the stuff of urban legends, not anything for the Garou to deal with. But then priests and ministers performing services at Fairmount started doing odd things after a day at the cemetary.

One suck-started a handgun.

One bided his time, got a license, bought a shotgun, and killed his family before nestling the barrel under his chin and pulling the trigger.

The bereaved may or may not be acting strangely, too. If so, they at least aren't killing themselves. Who knows what is going on behind closed doors after their loved ones have been laid to rest? In any case, Electric Sky thinks taint is spreading from somewhere in that cemetary, and he convinced Evens the Odds to send some Garou to check it out.

Some Garou. Heh. A grungy Theurge, a spoiled Fang, and a Fury so new hardly anyone's met her. The most handy, the most immediately obvious.

When they get to the cemetary they've had plenty of time to discuss their options, their plans, the lay of the land. There are no lights but Luna and the stars. There is a thick, shifting fog that lurks just inside the gates.

[Kiss With a Fist] Penny isn't on the caern rotation yet. But she's thinking about it, just like she's thinking maybe she'll stay in Chicago a while. She didn't stay in room 4 for long tonight. Too many thoughts running through her head for her to settle. So she went for a walk, and that walk carried her to the Caern for introductions.

And a mission, with a friend and yet another new face. This new city'll take some getting used to.

The Fury led the Gnawer and the Fang back to her chariot, her old as hell station wagon that has served as her bed for the better part of the last year or more. It's spacious, at least, and will fit the three of them most comfortably.

That gets parked some distance away. Before Penny gets out of the car, she opens the glove box and pulls out a handful of gourds, and a couple of smooth stones.

Once the talens have been dealt with, either activated or given over to the others, Penny gets out and shifts to her smallest, lithest form. Stopping at the gates, she sniffs the air, ears flat back.

[Ivan] However they made their way here, it wasn't in Ivan's car. He doesn't have a car that seats more than two. He has a Ducati, a Bugatti, and a Lamborghini.

So Penny's station wagon it was. Ivan calls shotgun. Riding over, he says to the Ahroun: "You're the Ahroun, which makes this your show. But I'll tell you now, I'm best used as a scout, an ambusher or a back-attacker. Put me on point at your own risk."

When they get there, Ivan's out of the car a second after Penny is. He's in a fitted t-shirt so well-fitted and so softly knit that it had to cost what a small laptop costs; in darkwash jeans; in rubbersoled skate shoes that leave his footsteps almost silent. He has talens too. They're in the form of skittles. Or maybe M&Ms. He eats a red one, and then a green one. Cracks his neck with a quick easy jerk of his head sideways, and then drops forward into lupus himself.

Shining white, there. Fucking beautiful.

[Mr Thom Thom's] Gregory meanders along with his two companions, one of which is well known to him -- Penny. He sticks closer to her side that the uppity looking fang, casually flicking him glances of mistrust and resentment. He's so rich that gregory can smell it, so rich that the skin of his hands should have turned green by now. When he looks at him he half expects to see gold plated shoes and a david bowie diamond-studded funky space suit. Or do you have several ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch changes Ivan?

With a grunt he too drops into lupus, his wolf-form looks mangy, speckled and brown like some raggedy ass timberwolf bred with a street mut.

[Ivan] [Starting with 3 Gn. -1 toward soak talen, +2]

[Kiss With a Fist] [sniff sniff!: percept + alert (scents)]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 6 at target 4)

[Ivan] [also, my post says two? but i meant one. he'll eat the resist pain talen later :D]

[Ivan] [me too! percep+alert, nose 'n ears]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 6, 6, 6 (Success x 3 at target 4)

[Mr Thom Thom's] [soak talen]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 5, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 7)

[Mr Thom Thom's] [percept+alert, snifsniff]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 4)

[harbinger.] There's so much fog in the graveyard it's hard to see anything but the dark islands that mark graves themselves. It's hard to smell anything but moisture, even in this form. The fog leaks out through the bars of the enormous iron gate and curls around them as they slip into their wolf-forms, a small and temporary pack of creatures that look like animals: dark, light, grungy.

There is something definitely wrong here. It isn't just the stench of death, the sense of tears. Whatever it is smells old, and sickly-sweet, like certain plants that tend to creep across the ground and take over the garden, infecting everything else. From what they can tell, it's coming from the southeast.
to Ivan, Kiss With a Fist, Mr Thom Thom's

[Ivan] [oh! i shoulda told you earlier: Double-Jointed +1, Perfect Balance +1, Frenzy to Hispo -2.]
to harbinger.

[Ivan] In this form, Ivan is a ghost of a wolf: pale-furred, long of limb and long of body, loping silently on his four paws. He catches some scent, some sensation, rather like creeping dread. It comes from the southeast. Unless Kiss with a Fist commands otherwise, he sets off in that direction.

In a few steps even his outline blurs.

[Blur of the Milky Eye!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 5, 7, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 1 at target 8) Re-rolls: 1

[Christian] For whatever reason he doesn't ride to the cemetery with the rest of them. He gets there anyway, and when he sees the others in lupus already he steps forward and shifts to join them. He does not spring immediately into that form but moves across the spectrum, growing larger and larger before shrinking again on the wolf side. Like Ivan his coat is immaculate white. He catches the others scenting the area and lowers his nose to the earth, traipsing after them and sniffing.

(( Perc + Alert. Difficulty -2, lupus. ))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 7 (Failure at target 4)

[Kiss With a Fist] Penny tastes the air, sniffs. She catches the scents to the southeast, perhaps more distinctly than anyone else among them.

The Ragabash goes to scout it out, and she doesn't stop him, only offers, "Something is alive there. Be careful. We'll be behind you. Come back to us as soon as you see anything."

To the others, the Fury looks over her shoulder at them, flicking her ears, one angled toward Ivan, the other honed on Christian and Gregory.

"Gregory, hang back to heal or summon. Christian, stay with me."

She waits a handful of seconds for their scout to head into the fog first, enough time to activate another talen, then lopes in after.

Toward the southeast, the mausoleums and the disturbed earth.

[resist pain]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 5, 7, 8 (Failure at target 8)

[Ivan] Ivan doesn't whuff. He looks back over his shoulder, and then turns forward again. Paws in a line, he continues southeast. At a lope. Then at a walk. Then creeping, head level with shoulders, legs bent to keep him close to the ground.

A white wolf doesn't blend well in a black night. Good thing there's fog. In that, he's all but gone.

[Mr Thom Thom's] Gregory sits back on his haunches, one paw reaching up to scratch behind his ear briefly. His nostrils flare, eyes stay locked on Penny, although they share no pack -- she's the closest thing to one that the scrawny gnawer has and he trusts her to lead them this night. He places his life in her hands like he has done many times in the past. At least this time it is willingly. It is only when he see's the others move off that he slinks back onto all four paws. He waits for her commands and when she gives them his wolf head lifts its snout slightly, silently consenting.

He does as he's told, moving ahead cautiously, slowly, keeping distance between him and the warriors.

[Ivan] [sneaky sneaky!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 3, 5, 5, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Ivan] +2!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 2, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [Ivan roll perc + alertness]

[Ivan]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 6, 6, 6, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 4)

[harbinger.] As Ivan goes, he smells wormwood. More and more as he goes, as he drifts deeper into the cemetary. He can see it here and there, too, crawling over certain gravestones. They're getting fewer and farther between as he gets closer and closer to the areas of the oldest tombs, the ancient mausoleums used for the bodies and the remains of the rich and fearful.

As far as he can tell, he is alone, and this place is silent as death. He comes to one of the mausoleums though and instantly knows: this is the source of the fog, and yet is simultaneously guarded by it. The stone itself is untouched by the moisture. Standing in the thick of the lowlying clouds he can see the front door to the tomb, made of some rusting and corroding metal

hanging from its hinges.

The place is covered in wormwood, dripping off the walls and ceiling, creeping in through that hanging door. He can smell blood, and it smells fecund and motherly and sweet. Tender, almost. That blood is dripping gently from between the cracks of the stones, and the wormwood's leaves are absorbing it hungrily. He stands at the edge of the unfogged area, and the vines sting his paws where they touch.
to Ivan

[harbinger.] Ivan goes on ahead, almost invisible in the fog, while the others drift in nearer. Gregory, bringing in the rear, is perhaps the most sensitive to the sheer wrongness around them that only grows stronger as they go further in. Penny feels the weight of sorrow on her as though even the very dead in their graves are moaning, though she hears nothing. Some of the headstones are covered with an oddsmelling viney plant that crawls all over them from, seemingly, out of nowhere.

For Christian, sticking close to the other Ahroun, this place seethes with corruption. It is not safe here, even for them.

[Kiss With a Fist] In all this game of tag and hide-and-seek, there's been no sign of their deaf playmate. Riley took off around the side of the house to keep away from Alex, and Alex was the one who chased her down. By now, James may have left, or gone back inside, who knows. They're alone outside, running around the chantry's yard like a couple of kids.

Maybe a couple of older kids. The blood is pumping, hearts are racing. Alex doesn't see Riley until he's almost right on top of her.

And then? Then in a rush she's almost right on top of him.

[tackle!: dex + brawl]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 5, 6, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Kiss With a Fist] [gah! ignore that obviously!]

[Mr Thom Thom's] [AHAHAHAHAHAH]

[harbinger.] [GOOD JOB MOOGLE]

[Ivan] There are no lights here except the glow of the waning moon off gravestones and fog. Ivan vanishes into the white. Seconds go by; perhaps a minute or more.

Then he's back: simply there, a blurred outline of a wolf, white on white.

"A mausoleum," he tells them. "Covered in wormwood. Blood seeping from the mortar and the foundation. Feeding ... nursing the wormwood. Door off hinges. If I had to guess, that's the source of our problems. What's inside, or maybe the crypt itself."

[Christian] (( Perc + Occult ))
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 5, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Ivan] [intel+occ]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 4, 6, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[harbinger.] He heard once that wormwood is associated with restless spirits. He knows it's used to make absinthe, of all things. Someone once quoted something from the Bible at him about wormwood, that it was a star that fell to the waters of earth when... something happened. And people who drank the water died.
to Ivan

[Christian] This place is making the Ahroun's hackles raise. He's volatile enough as it is. Walking through this corrupted place, passing by vines coming from out of nowhere, is almost enough to make him frenzy. He doesn't frenzy though, even without his elder and newfound mentor here to keep an eye on him. He uses his tribe's gift to see if this is the Wyrm or if this is something else. The Ragabash returns with his report, and were not for what his extra sense tells him Christian might have charged ahead heedless of orders. He controls himself...barely...so he can pass on what he's found out.

"This place corrupted. Not Gaian. Not want us here. Not sure if Wyrm."

[Mr Thom Thom's] Gregory lifts his muzzle and it tilts to the side as Ivan explains, he paces in a small circle then -- eyes darting from side to side.

"Crypt itself? Hope not. How best to approach?"

[harbinger.] The fog shifts around them, and then, seemingly out of nowhere, an adolescent girl appears. She's dressed well, and modestly. Barefoot. Her hair is done, but matted at the back. She's pale, blue-veined, and moving stiffly in the direction Ivan just returned from.

In these forms, they know: this girl isn't alive. But she is also unaware of them, walking across the grass and through the fog towards the sound of...

...singing?

[Kiss With a Fist] Penny's ears flick forward, toward the Fang when he returns to them. She listens to his report, then Christian's, her head cocked, alert. And she nods once.

"We don't go inside until we destroy what's outside." She whuffs, shakes out her fur like she's shaking off water. Or the foul feeling of the air and this place. She starts to shift up and up, into Hispo, and ending in Crinos, huge and hulking, fur as black as night. "It may draw out what's inside. We surround the building. Stay away from the entrance."

[Kiss With a Fist] [dlp!]

[Ivan] Rather abruptly, the Ragabash snaps back to human shape. He pulls ... his phone out of his pocket, hunching over to keep the small, clear screen from glaring out into the darkness.

And he starts surfing the internet.

(Really? Is this the time?)

Provided no one smacks him upside the head, eventually he whispers - "I remembered something about wormwood. Something about restless spirits and ... bitterness, loss. It was said that when the Serpent was cast from Eden, wormwood sprung up in his wake to prevent his return. And there something about stars falling. It's in Revelation. Here, I found it:

"And the third angel sounded, and there fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp, and it fell upon the third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of waters;
And the name of the star is called Wormwood: and the third part of the waters became wormwood; and many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter."

He slips the phone away; quirks an eyebrow at them. "Now, I'm no born-again, but I'd say that's not coinci--"

he shuts up. There's a girl. She's not alive.

[Mr Thom Thom's] Gregory pauses in his cantering, his body tenses, his fur rippling as he instantly lowers towards the ground -- Belly not touching but poised ready to move. This girl.. she is not alive.. they all know it - he does not bother to voice the obvious. Finally he makes a sound to the others, mainly to penny.

"Follow?"

[Christian] Even in this form the look that Christian gives the Ragabash when he pulls out his phone is easily translated. He doesn't smack him. He does stare, though, before Ivan whispers something about wormwood. It reminds him of his crazy aunt dragging him to church every chance she got. He knows exactly what passage the Ragabash is referring to, but he wasn't asked if he could recite it, and Ivan finds it fast enough. Rage sets the young Ahroun's fur on end. He sees the girl approach, and before he can stop himself he snarls.

[Ivan] --and before that snarl is more than a vibration in the throat, Ivan makes a zip it! gesture in Christian's direction.

[Hush!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 10 (Success x 1 at target 7)

[Kiss With a Fist] Penny listens to the reports, and she does not smack Ivan upside the head. She looks at him curiously, but her ears are to the crypt. When he gives the follow-up, she nods.

"We--" but she stops. There's an undead girl. And Christian is tensing, preparing to snarl. Ivan may use a gift to silence him.

Penny rounds on the Ahroun, bars his passage, and snaps her jaws once. Her voice a low growl, she says, quiet as she can, "I am alpha. You follow my orders, or so help me I will tear out your throat, do you understand?"

[harbinger.] The singing isn't hidden, isn't for the dead girl's ears only. It's low and masculine, though the scent both Ivan and Penny picked up on was almost maternal in nature. It sounds something like chanting, undulating, trending towards long, drawn-out notes that seem to be luring the girl towards the sound.

Towards the tomb. Soon enough, the fog has swallowed her again. And the singing goes on for another few moments, then cuts off abruptly.

[Mr Thom Thom's] Gregory's tongue laps out across his teeth and he snarls along with penny at the sudden outburst of aggression. He shifts, lifting himself up off the ground in an instant and is circling behind the Ahroun Fang.

"The singing.. the girl is lured.. maybe not good thing.. maybe lure more.. strengthen enemy.."

[Christian] If Penny hadn't somehow read Christian's mind, Ivan might be a mess right now. The Ahroun is preparing to throw himself at the other Cliath when the Fury wheels on him. He's young, and he's been without the Nation more than he's had it with him, but he knows enough not to challenge the leader during wartime. Right now Kiss With A Fist is the leader. Right now they're at war. He's furious, but he doesn't snap his jaws in return or even glower at her. He drops his gaze, and tries to chuff his understanding. He doesn't make a peep.

(( -1 WP ))

[Ivan] Even half-invisible, even crouched down and so easily, so well-hidden in the shadows, Ivan's smirk is unmistakable.

A moment later he's a wolf again. He takes a few steps after the girl.

"I can take another look to see what happened if you want," he says, "but I think we should decide on a plan and move soon."

[Kiss With a Fist] Satisfied that Christian will control himself for the time being, Penny turns back to the girl. Or the place where the girl has disappeared.

"No. We try to stop the girl. Try to destroy wormwood on outside first. Maybe draw out what's inside." She looks back over their motley crew, then turns to lope after the girl quietly. She doesn't tell them to be careful or be on the alert. That should go without saying.

[Mr Thom Thom's] Gregory is moving after her, few steps behind and to her right, tongue loling and paws padding softly in the squishy ground.

[Ivan] Ivan flanks Penny to her left, serious now; eyes keen.

[harbinger.] Their very movement makes the fog swirl away from their bodies. Garou run hot. They create pockets around them where their heat destroys some of the moisture surrounding them. Even so, some of it clings to their fur, dampens them as they tread lightly and quickly towards the mausoleum. As Ivan experienced the closer he got, the wormwood that their paws touch on stings. It does not injure them, but it is almost a burning sensation. An itching, a biting.

But the wormwood isn't exactly a carpet across the earth. It is crawling all over the tomb when they get there, though, and just as Ivan said, it is drinking the blood that seeps from the foundation, that comes out through the cracks in the mortars. If they don't look close enough, the blood looks like shadows. If they were another form, they wouldn't even smell it. Like this, though, and knowing what to look for, they can see the droplets being sucked up before they can even leave streaks.

The mausoleum looks as though it is sweating blood, beading on the stone like perspiration. And the doors are hanging, and the shadows inside are yawning, and the girl is nowhere to be seen. No more singing, now. Other than the fact that it's drinking blood coming from stone, the wormwood itself seems rather benign.

They can hear a fluttering. A scraping. The rustle of cloth. Coming from inside the tomb.

[Ivan] As they near, Ivan drifts forward again and to the side, out of direct line of sight from the door. His ears are pinned back. He expects the Ahroun -- one of them, possibly the less controlled one -- to start tearing wormwood from the walls.

If that happens, he wants to be in position to get the drop on whatever may or may not come out.

[Christian] He can't talk. He can't verbalize at all. If he were to sneeze he bets that wouldn't make any noise either. He's trying not to think about it. If he thinks about it he's going to disobey the other Ahroun and attack Ivan. Christian is an Ahroun. Supposedly not thinking is not a problem for them. Whatever thoughts are in his head stay right where they are. He could have the world's most brilliant solution for dealing with the wormwood, and they'd never know. He shoots Ivan a baleful glare as they come upon the mausoleum. Then he digs his claws into the dirt to stop from running straight at it. As he waits, he shifts into Hispo. Even his body getting bigger doesn't make a sound.

[Mr Thom Thom's] He pulls up, fur bristling restlessly as he saunters from side to side. There's definitely something in there, something that has use of cloth, but the wormwood.. it encompasses the entire crypt, draining blood from stone and it makes Gregory's hairs stand up on end. He's calm, hes not some raging full moon, he's happy to hang back, wait it out.. let the big boys and girls get themselves into trouble before he acts.

[Kiss With a Fist] As Penny walks, she shifts, growing up into Hispo, her body shifting still into Crinos. That's when she rises to her hind legs. She communicates through gestures now. Ivan knows his strengths, and goes to lay in wait. Penny motions Gregory to take the side of the door opposite Ivan, to help attack whatever comes out. Christian, spoiling for action, gets to burn some of that energy off with Penny, tearing the wormwood from the building.

It's going to hurt, most likely, sting and burn their skin. And Christian's mouth if he remains in Hispo.

Penny moves to Ivan's side, not trusting the other Ahroun not to lose it and snap at the Ragabash. Reaching up, she digs her claws into the vines, and she tears.

[Mr Thom Thom's] Gregory turns, his body bulking immensely as he does so and soon he's darting to the side of the door opposite the ragafang, in Hispo, a great brown and black streaky direwolf, jaws drooling on the wormwood as he stands over it.

[harbinger.] [never you mind]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 4, 4, 5, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Ivan] Infuriatingly, the Ragabash doesn't even seem to notice the glare. He's probably pretending. Silver Fangs: masters of hauteur and the cold shoulder.

When he reaches the wall -- provided nothing has abruptly dropped on him, sprung up beneath him, or dragged him screaming to some netherworld -- Ivan flows slowly into his Crinos form. Out of seemingly nowhere he draws a pair of angular, minimalistic wedges of black, like solid shadows in his paws.

He puts his back to the wall. Even in this form, this largest, heaviest of forms, Ivan retains some degree of litheness. From the broad rack of his shoulder his limbs hang elongated, the musculature supple. His waist is narrow and long; digits agile, easily threading the index fingers through loops on the ends of the ... whatever those are, in his handpaws. Weapons, doubtlessly.

[Kiss With a Fist] [-1G activate Soak talen, +3 to soak]

[Ivan]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 7 (Failure at target 6)

[Mr Thom Thom's] [percep+alert]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 3, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Ivan] [SILVER FANGS DON'T FAIL.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 5, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 7)

[harbinger.] The wormwood stings Penny's flesh as she tears at it, just as it did when she walked over it, but otherwise...nothing. No surreal and supernatural shrieking from the bloodhungry, bitter plant. She gets some blood on her fur and her palms, and the wormwood tries to absorb it even as she tears at the vines, but nothing happens to her otherwise.

Flanking the door, Ivan and Gregory are in the best position to notice if anything inside reacts. As far as Ivan is aware, at least at first, nothing does. Maybe he's distracted by Penny's good form tearing at the wormwood.

Gregory, however, his ears twitch. The fluttering, the scraping, the rustling? It's stopped. A moment later, Ivan hears something

coming

up

the steps. It sounds like it's trailing something light behind it over the stone.

[Mr Thom Thom's] Gregory, snarling, hissing at the others, not a command but a plea to his stronger companions.

"Sshhhhh.. somethings happening..."

[Ivan] Ivan tenses. And then, paradoxically, his handpaws loosen their grip. The black ingots are held delicately, easily in his paws now, even as every muscle in his body locks to a vibrating stillness.

He doesn't say anything. But if Penny and Christian look his way, lays two shushing fingers over his mouth -- an absurdly human gesture of shh in this very, very inhuman form -- and then his eyes dart toward the door and back, obviously pointing.

[Kiss With a Fist] Immediately, Penny stops tearing at the vines. She cocks her head at Gregory. Then, one final tear through the vines, claws deliberately scraping harshly across stone. Then she steps back, crouched, waiting.

[-1R Razor Claws]

[Christian] Christian does look Ivan's way. Seeing as he still thinks he can't make any noise he doesn't bother trying, so the congregation is sparred the sound of his throat trying to growl again. He takes Penny's lead, and a moment to burn off some of this maddening Rage to make his claws more devastating.

(( -1 Rage for Razor Claws ))

[Ivan] [ambush! stealth roll.]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6) Re-rolls: 2

[Mr Thom Thom's] [stealth]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 10, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [wits + alertness]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 3, 3, 6, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[harbinger.] Something's happening.

Something's coming, but the rest of them can't hear it. Penny, because Something has already heard them, scrapes her claws over the stone. So does Christian, following tonight's Alpha's lead. Their claws grow shiny, grow sharp, grow that much more lethal.

On either side of the door, Gregory and Ivan ready themselves. One of them is better at doing this than the other, with his matte-black knives and his, frankly, natural-born skill at this sort of thing.

The best part is, when the Something gets to the top of the stairs and looks out from the dark to see Penny and Christian waiting for it, it immediately looks for others. And it looks to its left. And it sees Gregory there, about to try and sneak up to hurt it. Which makes it turn, not even remotely aware that Ivan is now

at its back.


The thing that must be noted about its back, however, is this: it is covered by two large wings. Not the epic, expansive wings associated with angels, but these are, in fact, white and feathery. They just don't stretch out even as far as his armspan. They don't need to: he has another set from his calves, and a third set from underneath his hair, each proportionate to that part of his body. He is a bizarre creature, and as he turns towards Gregory, his dark eyes open

and try to pull the Gnawer in.

[harbinger.] [Ivan, roll your ambush attack, then Inits!]

[Ivan] [ambush! +3 dice; back attack; min diff = 3.]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 4, 4, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 6 at target 3)

[Ivan] [dam, str +5!]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 3, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [Soak +3]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Christian] (( +8 ))
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1

[Kiss With a Fist] [+9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 6

[Mr Thom Thom's] [+8]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9

[harbinger.] [+10]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9

[Ivan] 8
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2 (Failure at target 6)

[Mr Thom Thom's] (Gregory makes a whiney high pitched sound impersonating Penelope: "Kill it guys! do what I say! I'm Alpha!")

[harbinger.] Ivan is behind the -- well -- angel a second after his booted feet step out onto the wormwood-covered ground. And he lifts his knife to drive it into him, past that dark hair and those gleaming wings. He feels resistance, unexpected -- the wings are flaring, deflecting him, and there's something hard underneath his t-shirt that Ivan didn't see coming.

Still. Blood. Hot and red and rushing out of this creature, covering his hand. It makes no sound. It does not seem to feel pain.

[harbinger.] [Init Order!

Gabriel
Gregory
Penny
Ivan
Christian

Declare in reverse!]

[Kiss With a Fist] [Reflexive: "Ivan, stay behind, focus on wings! Christian flank! Gregory, stay back and heal!"]

[Christian] (( 1a: Flank Gabriel.
1b: Bite.
2 Rage: Both bites. ))

[Ivan] Ivan has a smartphone that's worth more than its weight in platinum. Ivan has laptops worth more than compact cars. Ivan doesn't just keep these around as status symbols: he uses them. He's surfed wikipedia at weird hours of the night. He's come across enough, here and there, to look at those six wings and think to himself

fuckingchristit'safuckingseraph

which does not, in the end, deter him even for a second. He doesn't have a second. He has a split instant to take what advantage he can get, because when you're a Ragabash and built for stealth, built for speed, you take cheap shots when you can -- or you die.

The thing turns toward the Theurge. The Ragabash launches himself forward. Wedge-shaped blades snap out of the black ingots in his fists. He throws one arm around the winged creature; punches the other against its back.

One knife in the kidney. The other to the neck. If it were human, it would be on the ground now, unable to scream, bleeding to death.

It's not human.


[1a. slice at those big wings!
b. again!
c. one more time!
R1. yay i have precisely one rage and i'ma use it to CUT YOU!]

[Christian] (( Redeclare!
1a/1b: Claw.
2 Rage: Both claws. ))

[Kiss With a Fist] [1a: Claw face
1b: Claw face! +WP
R1: Claw
R2: Claw!]

[Mr Thom Thom's] [1a run out of way!, (dodge if attacked)]

[harbinger.] Perhaps this thing can fly. Perhaps it can unsheathe a flaming sword. Perhaps it is of god, or some spirit that calls itself god and is worshipped by so many, many humans in so many, many forms. Perhaps it is not their enemy at all. Christian (heh) did say he wasn't sure if this was of the Wyrm, only that it was not friendly to them, that it didn't want them here.

The male they're attacking now is straight out of Scripture. Those wings should be holding him aloft around the throne of god, covering his eyes and his feet so he does not look upon glory or touch holy ground as he sings. The highest order of angels, this. Standing in a graveyard in a tomb where he draws the recent dead to him, a tomb covered in blood-drinking flora.

No sword. No scabbard on his belt. But there are other things to contend with: from his knees and elbows are hard, bony protrusions, as large as their own claws and just as sharp. They come from the insides of his wrists as well. He is outnumbered and surrounded, and as they are closing in on him, he opens his mouth

and the sound that comes from him is like that of a horn, bellowing, thundering through the graveyard.

[Reflexive: Summon help!
1a. Elbow-claw Ivan
1b. Knee-claw Penny
1c. Wrist-claw Penny
1d. Wrist-claw Christian]

[harbinger.] [1a. -4, +2 diff for attacking someone he can't quite see]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 5, 5, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)

[harbinger.] [+1]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[Ivan] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 1, 6 (Failure at target 6)

[Ivan] [oh wait and my talen!]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 5, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [1b. -5, rolling as a kick...that does agg]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 7, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 7)

[harbinger.] [+3]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Kiss With a Fist] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [1c. -6]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 4, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [+1]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 5, 7, 7, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[Kiss With a Fist] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 4, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [1d. -7]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 2, 6 (Failure at target 6)

[Mr Thom Thom's] [mothers touch @ ivan (stinky fangabash)]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6) [WP]

[Kiss With a Fist] [1a: Claw face: dex + brawl -2, diff +2]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 6, 7 (Failure at target 8)

[Kiss With a Fist] [1b: Claw face!: -3 +WP (hey kahseeno, remember these? *flashes*)]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 4, 4, 5, 8 (Success x 2 at target 8) [WP]

[Kiss With a Fist] [dam: +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 4, 4, 6, 6, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [Soak +3]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 3, 7, 7, 8, 8, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)

[Ivan] [1a. -2 dice, motherfucker. stabbity! +2 for targeting the wings!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

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

[harbinger.] [Soak +3]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[harbinger.] Ivan is focused on those wings. The seraph's wings. The angel's wings. And they twitch in response. The blood flows from their base just as freely as anywhere else when he scratches past whatever armor the angel is wearing under his t-shirt. They flutter wildly as he attacks them, but then simply flare. There was a reaction. But not enough.

[Ivan] [1b. fucker, stop soaking!]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 2, 5 (Failure at target 6)

[Ivan] 1c. I AM NOT ENJOYING THIS DON'T-BE-A-TWINK DICE POOL.
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3 (Success x 1 at target 6) [WP]

[Ivan] [dam!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 4, 6, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [Soak +3]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [Reflexive Wits + Enigmas rolls, diff 8 for Christian, Penny, and Gregory. Diff 6 for Ivan.]

[Ivan] [er -- 1b damage!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 4, 5, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [Soak +3 vs. Ivan's 1b]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 5, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Ivan] [wits/enig!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 8, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Mr Thom Thom's]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 2, 6, 6 (Failure at target 8)

[Christian] (( Wits + Enigmas ))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 4, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)

[harbinger.] The resistance his knife meets underneath that t-shirt isn't metal. It almost feels tough, sinewy. Not quite bone, not soft as cartilage. And as he attacks the base of the wings, he can feel where it spreads from those stems -- thick as his own forearms -- under the shirt, across the angel's body. Somehow, those wings are connected to how goddamn (heh) hard it is to hurt this thing.
to Ivan

[Kiss With a Fist] [wits (cunning) + enig]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8) Re-rolls: 1

[Ivan] The blind back-slam of the thing's spurred elbow catches the Ragabash square in the gut, square in the sensitive, critical bundle of nerves that some mistake of evolution has placed under the protective sheath of the sternum.

For an instant Ivan can't make a sound; can't even breathe. Call it karma. In the next he sucks a breath in and shouts, "Help me with the wings!"

[Christian] (( 1a: Dex + Brawl. -1 pool, -2 1st split +1 RC. Difficulty -1, flank. +2 Dex, Hispo. ))
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 3, 4, 10, 10 (Failure at target 6)

[Christian] (( Oops!
1a: Dex + Brawl. -2 pool, 1st split. Difficulty -1, flank. +2 Dex, Hispo. ))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 5, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Christian] (( Str + 3 Hispo + 1 bite + 1 Razor Claws + 1 staging ))
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 6, 6, 6, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [Soak +3]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 4, 7, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Christian] (( 1b: -3 pool 2nd split. ))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 7, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Christian] (( +3 ))
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 2, 5, 7, 8, 8, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 9 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [Soak +3]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[harbinger.] x_x

[harbinger.] What happens is this.

The 'disturbance' appears to be a motherfucking angel occupying a broken crypt in the depths and recess of Fairmount Cemetery. That alone begs a what the fucl. Nevermind the dead girl walking. Nevermind the wormwood. Nevermind the fact that this angel looks like he got kicked out of a Latino biker gang. Or has been running one.

He moves quickly, so quickly it's terrifying. The little weakling that looks like it's going to run from him doesn't garner any more of his attention. The prick behind him that stabbed him in the back so viciously, however, now

that one got his attention. So the angel with the voice like a horn of heaven strikes with that angry claw protruding from his elbow and sends it right into Ivan's midsection, tearing the Ragabash up from the inside. He doesn't even flick the blood off before he's lifting his knee to strike at Penny. But Penny isn't like so many Black Furies that have come through Chicago. They have all been tough; she, however, is also lucky, and the blow glances off of her. As does the claw that goes for her throat, catching only fur.

The last flail of the angel's arm towards the young Ahroun at his side doesn't even land. Doesn't even come close.


The wolves close in, tightly. One of them reaches right past the angel to slap his hand against Ivan's side. And something ricochets through Ivan like cold, clear water. It almost hurts, this healing, minor as it is. It soothes his mind, clarifies his thoughts, tells him who he is all over again, where he came from. It makes his goddamn gut not hurt so fucking badly. While Gregory's hand is retreating, Penny is lunging, and her luck has run out for the time being. Her claws fly, whistling through the air, but -- nothing. She misses him. And claws again, roaring, just barely catching his t-shirt.

While he's distracted, Ivan goes for the seraph's wings. He stabs at them again. And again. And again. But this thing is tougher than they could have imagined after that first rush of blood. He feels resistance underneath that shirt as the wings flutter and snap and twitch in reponse to being attacked. The two Ahrouns, looking for weakness, and the Ragabash, right at the angel's back, all notice roughly the same thing: he wants to protect those wings. And those wings want to protect him. Ivan calls out for them to help him with the wings, but Christian is wild with rage, wild with a need to hurt something

and oh. He does.


Ivan might see it. Penny might. Gregory has started to try and get out of reach again, but he might see it. Might. Because Christian moves in a blur, clawing twist in rapid succession. The hits land with beauty, grace, and perfection -- the things the Fangs associate with themselves. They land with savage, brutal agony on the angel, and savage brutality, agony, is what Ahrouns know best.

The second time Christian rips his claws into the seraph, they start at his middle. They tear through whatever armor is under that shirt. They tear up through his skin and his muscle and his bones. They snap his ribs apart, they find his heart, they claw up his jugular and take off half his jaw.

Whatever light there was in those dark eyes is gone before Christian pulls his handpaw back, saturated up to the elbow with hot, rich blood that smells like

mothers

like

nurturing

like

life itself.

The echo from the cry the seraph gave has barely died down, calling for whatever help might be there. They could hear something else coming up, rushing from the depths of the mausoleum, if it weren't for the heavy WHUMPH of the angel's body tipping over and falling to the earth, organs as normal-looking as their own spilling out onto the grass.

Wormwood creeps towards him. Wormwood drinks the angel's blood with a soft, barely perceptible sucking sound.


The Garou hear a soft singing, like whispers, like dreams, coming up from the dark.

[harbinger.] [Damage:

Ivan: 4A
Everyone Else: OK]

[harbinger.] [+1R to Ivan for OW, YOU DICK
+2WP to Christian for BEING A FUCKING AHROUN
+1R to Penny for SHEER FRUSTRATION]

[harbinger.] [+7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2

[harbinger.] [+7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9

[Kiss With a Fist] [+9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 6

[harbinger.] [+7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10

[Christian] (( +8 ))
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4

[Ivan] 8
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2 (Failure at target 6)

[Ivan] oops -- +6!

[Mr Thom Thom's] [+8]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7

[Ivan] Ragabashes are rather renowned for, er, 'tactically retreating' from difficult situations. They might expect Ivan to come up with some excuse now. Hey, I'm gonna track down this scent. Hey, I'm gonna look for a back door. Hey, I'm gonna go grab my dry cleaning.

He doesn't. He straightens with a wince, a gourd in his hand -- along with one of those brightly colored candies that look absurd in his huge handpaw.

The Fang eats one. Crushes the other again his wound, which starts to close before blood -- hot blood, not blue after all but red, red, red -- has dripped past his waist.

"If it's another one of those," he says, bracing for fucking impact, "let's tear the [fucking] wings off first."

[Ivan] [-1 gn GB +4!
-1 gn resist pain talen, good for 4 rounds!]

[Kiss With a Fist] Penny watches, eyes flashing with rage, as the younger Ahroun tears the angel to fucking pieces.

Which, actually, gives her an idea for whatever's coming up the stairs this time. She turns to Christian, who after such a devastating blow actually looks more in control of his rage than he has the entire night.

"They come up, we wishbone. Aim for wings if they have them."

[-1WP Pack Tactics (only enough for Penny and Christian =(]

[Mr Thom Thom's] The theurge backs away from the falling monster and snarls, his coat bristling. He suddenly perches up onto his hind legs like some creepy dancing maniac and attempts to break through the gauntlet.


[summoning step 1 !! piercing gaunt]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 10 (Success x 1 at target 7)

[harbinger.] [Init Order:

Tip
Her
Penny
Gregory
Christian
Eth
Ivan

Declare in reverse!]

[Ivan] [1a. get behind whatever Penny's attacking!
b. stab it!
c. once again!
R1. stab!

note: if it's got wings, he'll target those.]

[harbinger.] The summoned 'help' is coming, and coming in what little force they have. Their skin is varying shades of blue and gray and tinged with white. Their eyes...

don't exist. Empty sockets that do not seem to make them blind, but there is nothing there to injure even if the Garou were to try. No wings on these, at least not that they can see. They are all young women who might have once been pretty, had they lived to grow older, had they lived at all, had they not been turned into messengers of something otherwordly.

All of them wear a veil, wear a deathshroud, as though taken from an era not like this one. One of them, the Garou saw drifting through the fog not so long ago. They see the angel on the ground, and they begin to wail.

Eth
[1a. Emerge from the tomb, wailing
1b. Claw at Christian
R1. Claw at Christian
R2. Claw at Christian]

[Kiss With a Fist] Christian
(( 1: Wishbone whatever Penny's attacking - aiming for wings.
2 Rage: Both claws. ))

[Mr Thom Thom's] (finish summoning jaggling!)

[Kiss With a Fist] [1: Wishbone Eth
R1:
R2: Claws on Eth, move to Her if she goes down]

[Mr Thom Thom's] (wits+rituals dif 5)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 4, 6, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 5)

[harbinger.] Her
[1a. Emerge from the tomb, wailing
1b. Claw Gregory
R1. Claw Ivan
R2. Claw Ivan]

[harbinger.] Tip
[1a. Emerge from the tomb, wailing REALLY LOUD
1b. Claw Ivan
R1. Claw Penny
R2. Claw Penny]

[harbinger.] Tip
[1a. Special! Everyone roll (current) WP, diff 8]

[Kiss With a Fist] [WP!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 10 (Failure at target 8)

[Ivan]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 6 (Botch x 2 at target 8)

[harbinger.] [Ivan loses half his current Gnosis points. Good thing he already spent some!]
to Ivan

[harbinger.] [Actually. He loses all remaining Gnosis points.]
to Ivan

[Christian] (( WP ))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 5, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 1 at target 8)

[Mr Thom Thom's] wp
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 4, 5 (Botch x 1 at target 8)

[harbinger.] [1b. Claw Ivan -3]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 4, 4, 5, 5 (Failure at target 6)

[harbinger.] Her
[1a. Moving
1b. Clawing Gregory, -3]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [+2]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Mr Thom Thom's] [stam+3+2]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[Kiss With a Fist] [1: Wishbone Eth: dex + brawl diff 6]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Mr Thom Thom's] [bite on eth +1dif?}

[Mr Thom Thom's] [dex+brawl+2]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 5)

[Mr Thom Thom's] [dmg 4+2+3]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[harbinger.] Eth [Soak +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 4, 6, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Christian] (( 1: Dex + Brawl, Wishbone Eth. Difficulty -1, 2nd person WBing. ))
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 4, 6 (Failure at target 5)

[Mr Thom Thom's]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1 (Botch x 1 at target 6)

[harbinger.] Eth
[1a. Waaaail!
1b. Claw Christian. -3 / +2 diff for partial immobilization]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 3, 6, 10 (Failure at target 8)

[Ivan] [HAIL KAHSEENO!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 6, 7, 7 (Success x 3 at target 5)

[Kiss With a Fist] [strength raaaaah!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 5, 6, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Ivan] [RIP!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 5, 7, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Ivan] "You pull like a girl!" quips the smart-ass.

[harbinger.] [Soak +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 4, 7, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Ivan] b. i'm going back to stabbity!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 5, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 4 at target 3)

[Ivan] [dam +3]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[harbinger.] Eth
[Soak +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4 (Botch x 2 at target 6)

[Ivan] c. fuck you kahseeno!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 3, 5 (Success x 3 at target 3)

[Ivan] [dam+2]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 5, 6, 7, 7, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[harbinger.] Eth
[Soak +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5 (Botch x 1 at target 6)

[harbinger.] x_x

[harbinger.] Tip
[R1. Claw Penny!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 6, 7, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [+5]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 5, 5, 5, 5, 7, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Kiss With a Fist] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[harbinger.] Tip
[R2. Claw Penny AGAIN!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 4, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [+2]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 3, 5, 9 (Failure at target 6)

[harbinger.] Her
[R1. Clawing Ivan]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [+0]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 5 (Botch x 2 at target 6)

[harbinger.] Her
[R2. Clawing Ivan]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 4, 4, 4, 6, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[harbinger.] [+3]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 4, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Ivan] [soak +2!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 5, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Kiss With a Fist] [R1: Claw Her]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 6, 6, 7, 7 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Ivan] It's a bit of a clusterfuck, isn't it. The Fury grasping one frail arm of some long-dead thing; the Fang, the Ahroun Fang, snatching and missing at the other. The Ragabash taking his place; the two Garou yanking

only to feel an arm pop out of socket. At most.

Ivan snaps out some jibe that's really not so much a jibe as it is a clap of the jaws, a spark of something perilously close to irritation. He drops the arm he's holding. That's why his knives have holes in the blades, see: so he can let them go and flick them right back up into his grip in a second.

Which is what he does. So fucking smooth: the black blades blurring up in an arc, clapping into his palms. The thrusts: they're fast too, fast and smooth, like punches: one-two. The second one vicious. The second one twisting at the end, then tearing.

Down it goes. Ivan snarls at it, kicking it with one clawed foot as it crumples.

[Kiss With a Fist] [dam: +2]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[harbinger.] Her
[Soak +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 3, 8, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Kiss With a Fist] [R2: Again!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 6, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1

[Kiss With a Fist] [dam: +3]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 5, 6, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[harbinger.] Her
[Soak +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 4, 4, 4, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[harbinger.] x_x

[Christian] (( R1: Dex + Brawl - Claw ))
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 7, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Christian] (( +3 ))
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 5, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[harbinger.] Tip
[Soak +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Christian] (( R2: Again! ))
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Christian] (( +0 ))
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 3, 5, 5, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[harbinger.] Tip
[Soak +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 10 (Failure at target 6)

[Ivan] [stabbity!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 5 at target 3)

[Ivan] dam+4. DON'T PWINK.
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[harbinger.] Tip
[Soak +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 6, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[harbinger.] Like the hired mourners from funeral processions of centuries ago, three veiled young women emerge from the depths of the tomb where the angel lured them, filling the air with their sobs. The fog skitters away from those voices, especially the third. The loudest. It undulates, shrieking like the wind, reaching into the very souls of the Garou and pulling at them.

For Ivan it is like being hollowed out. He is empty, his spirit already drained. This is like a hand reaching into the jar of his soul and scraping the sides, clawing, looking for something. It rakes at his mind. It makes him forget, for as long as that screaming lasts, what Gaia feels like inside him. He's losing touch. He will be stuck on this side of the Gauntlet forever. It's like a fever that lasts so many hours you wonder if you're ever going to come out of it. And she won't. Stop. Screaming.

For Penny it's a sense of violation, of being cut in half. Of becoming lopsided suddenly, heavy with her own rage and will, unable to lighten her spirit by touching anything more graceful or beautiful that lives on the other side. She feels bound by taint for as long as that sound goes on, locked in by it.

For Gregory it is perhaps the worst. He's reaching out to Flame itself, trying to call it to burn the shrouds of these dead girls, burn their remains, burn the wormwood that crawls over the ground and starts to crawl across the dead angel's remains, eating at his precious blood. Gregory has nothing left. Nothing, nothing at all. The pit of his soul turns hard and starts to dry. It sucks the life out of the rest of him, or so it feels. His world becomes that wailing.

Christian alone seems immune. He is buoyed by ripping apart the thing that seemed, for a moment, like it might be able to take them down with rapid slashes of its claws without being hurt, itself. One fell swoop and it died. Won't they see what he's made of now. Won't they know he's a warrior of Gaia. Gaia is with him, and Luna is with him, and that screaming makes him feel only one thing: a need to end it.

All three of them have claws. All three of them lift thin arms from their shrouds and reach out for the Garou, shrieking in sorrow as they do so, in loss, in anger. But they are not very strong at all. The first, with that horrible scream, swipes at Ivan and doesn't even graze him. The second almost nicks part of Gregory's shirt. He doesn't notice -- he's biting at the third, the smallest one, but catching only a bit of veil in his teeth.

The Fury and the Fang dart forward and one grabs the smallest girl's forearm. Christian dives for the other but misses her as she flails, shrieking. Ivan's eyes snap to the leg opposite the arm Penny is holding, while the girl tries to bat Christian away with a clawed hand. Ivan takes his chance, grabs her, and he and Penny yank. An arm pops, a knee twists, but no more. They could torture her like this, if she had anything they wanted.

Ivan, all but driven mad by frustration and by that wailing coming from the tallest of the girls, takes out his knives and ends the smallest one. She crumples, and as he's kicking her corpse, the veil over her shudders to dust. It's just a dead body. It always was.

The tallest one doesn't like that at all. Nor does the other one that still lives. They go after Penny and Ivan, the ones who tried to tear the third apart, but their weak claws are new, and their flesh is cold, and all that is left for their trouble is a heavy, jagged scratch across Penny's throat. Penny retaliates quickly and effectively, not even at the one who clawed her but the other, the one that was attacking Ivan. In two rapid swipes of the Fury's claws, another of the girls lies dead on the ground. No blood even seeps from these ones. Their veils dissipate into nothingness, and they go limp and heavy, but that is all. The wormwood ignores them.

Christian is right behind his auspicemate, and the tall one is the only one left. His first strike nicks her. His second puts her hard to the ground, but her veil is still in place, covering the face that might have one day become beautiful. She drops, staring up at them with no eyes in her sockets. Ivan drives a knife into her but it doesn't seem to have any effect. She feels nothing.

She moves her head, mouth open. It feels good to have the wailling stopped. The cemetary is eerily silent again, and her breathing rattles. They can hear the wormwood suckling at the angel's blood.

"They... are coming..." gasps the would-be angel, the veiled sister, seeing nothing. "You... will all... die."

[Ivan] One left. The others are corpses, and perhaps always were. Ivan swipes his knives clean against the fur of his thighs, the gesture so practiced it's automatic, and folds them away. He drops atop the last creature, the one that's still alive or undead, and seizes her in his claws.

"Who?" English is current and brutish in this form: just growls and grunts. "Who coming?"

[Christian] As blood splashes the ground, Gnosis drains and mourners are torn apart, Christian has a song he hasn't thought of in years ringing in his head. Holy holy holy. When the last, the tallest of them finally falls, gasping for her last breath, Christian has to restrain himself from plunging for her throat. The Ragabash is still asking questions. This shouldn't be a surprise. It might very well be a surprise that the Ahroun doesn't just end her life and call it a night. He isn't even out of breath from all this fighting. It's as if he's never known anything other than this...war, fighting, bloodshed. As though fighting with the angels of his childhood Sundays isn't bothering him. He's shaking with the effort of not attacking, but he manages to stand still. He listens. Barely.

[Kiss With a Fist] They rend, they rip, they tear. They cut and slash and bite. They do the deeds that Gaia made them to do. All but one.

When the last of the trio is lying on the ground at Ivan's feet, when eyes are focused on her and her ominous words, Penny is looking at Gregory. They're not bound by a totem, but they travel together, and have for a while. They rolled into the city together. Maybe that means they're friends. Maybe that means Penny actually cares about the state of the Bone Gnawer.

She looks over the others then, checks them all for injury. She's the only one with a lingering wound, and that will be gone in a day, at the most. Except for that hollowed and unbalanced feeling that dwells within her breast. And the strange sensation of her rage unbalanced. The Black Fury controls it, though. She's older and perhaps wiser than Christian, she knows how to keep her cool.

She didn't even snarl at the Ragabash when he attempted to taunt her.

When she passes by Gregory, she rests a heavy handpaw on his shoulder, brief, there and gone and the time it'd take for him to register it. Ivan is questioning the final corpse. Penny moves to the corpse of the angel, bends to slash away the wormwood soaking up his blood.

[Mr Thom Thom's] He hears it, feels it. It enters through his open mouth, through his gaping eyes and burrows in through his ears. Insidious it slithers, filling him -- carving him out like a pumpkin on Halloween. It takes everything from him, strips him completely, tears down any last molecule of his soul and sucks every single last drop of residue from him. But it doesn't end there, it wallows in the empty space it creates, resonating inside of him like he's just a wolf-rug stretched too tight around a steel drum. He can barely even think, but the worst is yet to come. The heat, the flame, he summoned it -- or tried too, now it rips him apart from the inside out. It sears his lungs and the linings of his internal passages, he can't breathe.. he can't breathe... Penny I can't breathe..

And then its gone, just like that. But the emptiness remains, the feeling that he has been violated.. a vital part of him removed. It's all he can do to just stand there in horror as he realises he is unable to perform his duties for the team, for his temporary alpha.. He's overcome by anger, frustration and he lashes out with tooth.. but he doesn't have the skill.. doesn't have the strength..

Fortunately the others do. They bring down the enemy where Gregory can only flail and look on helplessly.. it brings him shame.. He's not the bravest, not the strongest or the fastest.. But he failed in his duty, he left them open to attacks to wounds.

The paw of Penny is barely felt, barely registered as he simply sits back on his haunches, eyes staring out into empty space. Finally he looks up at her, theres apologies in his eyes.. in those dark brown eyes and he pushes himself up and pads away from her a distance before lying down, his great head resting upon his front paws.

[harbinger.] A different assortment of Garou would have killed her before she could speak. Stepped on her throat. Stabbed her in the heart. There is more than one Fostern who would have called it a night and ripped her head off.

But here is a Questioner of the Ways, the sort of rake who stabs from behind and in the dark, and who steps forward and snarls in the face of the angel's left-behind messenger to ask her who she is telling them is coming. To kill them, if she's to be believed.

He was the one who received an angel's gift to his midsection. He probably has the most reason to believe her.

One Ahroun is fighting to control himself, and truth be told, he was the most vicious fighter tonight by far. He is still soaked in the angel's blood. His arm is dipped in it. The other Ahroun is ignoring the creature, ripping wormwood off of the angel. As she does, a vine of it starts winding up her arm, seeking the blood on her face, leaving a stinging, burning trail of itself as it hungrily reaches for its food.

Gregory is just...

...empty.

Ashamed and hollowed out, he withdraws. Nearby, the girl is aching for air that she doesn't really need to breathe, and then she's... singing.

"Caaasting dowwwn their gooolden crowwwns..." a deep, ragged intake of air, "aaarounnnd the cryyystalll..."

Nothing, then. She goes limp even before the Garou force her life from her. The shroud covering her face unravels, and turns to ash and fog, itself. Her mouth hangs open and slack. She's cold. She always was.

[Christian] Christian is more in control of himself than he has been in a long time. His ability to control himself far outweighs his Rage. He could pass among humans without instinctively terrifying them. Still...even with his lack of discipline, control, everything, he knows enough not to attack when a No Moon is asking questions. No matter how much he may be craving to even without the war drums of Rage in his head. By the time she answers him, the Ahroun's eyes have gone far away. Killing her is suddenly the last thing on his mind. He's hundreds of miles away for a moment. By the time he snaps back she's gone. Gone back to wherever it is that she came from, or gone on to somewhere new. There are no angels in Garou mythology. He doesn't know if there are homelands for them or if they get to go to Heaven like they taught him in class on Sundays. It shouldn't matter but he's suddenly anguished. His earlier anger toward Ivan is forgotten - for now - and he doesn't have to stop himself from attacking anyone this time. He has to stop himself from throwing back his head to finish the would-be angel's song.

[Kiss With a Fist] Penny feels the vine stinging its way up her arm. It halts her in her progress, and she looks askance at it before she tears that free and tosses it aside. She keeps Gregory in her peripheral, leaves him alone for now.

She turns when the girl starts to sing, and she watches as she drops back down, dead as she always was. Her message given, sort of.

"Let's clean up now," she says more than commands. It's what needs to be done, now that the fighting is over. She'll ask if any can cleanse, and if they can't, if Ivan can call to someone to perform the cleansing. Maybe burn away the vines as well.

Despite the fact that Gregory is right there, she doesn't try to keep this knowledge from him, that they need someone who can perform the tasks he should be able to do. He can't, and that's just the way that it is. But the Caern needs to be informed and warned. They need to know that more of these things are coming, and the sooner that knowledge is spread, the better.

For now, they clean up. They put away bodies, and if any dares tear apart an angel to put on this Caern's Wyrmpole, well, Penny will transport. She'll take them all back.

[Ivan] Like that he's holding a corpse. The shroud disintegrates in his very hands; he loses his grip on her because he never had a grip on her at all. She was never alive at all. Just a corpse, thumping back onto the ground. For a moment he's not even sure she ever said a word.

When Penny speaks, the Ragabash straightens, then. Long and lean, silver and white and ... red, red, red. He shakes his head to her question; no, he can't Cleanse. It can't surprise any of them. He's not that type of Garou. Not a healer, not a cleanser, not a preserver.

A destroyer, it turns out, beneath whatever else he may be. Not strong; not even particularly tough. But vicious, and not one for fair play. His forearms are spotted with blood -- backspattered with every twisting thrust of his knives. His wounds are gone, but the single red explosion of blood in the center of his chest lingers like a badge of brutality.

All around: the wormwood and the blood. The sweet scent of decay. He'll call someone out to help if he has to. Even so, they'll be here a while.

[Christian] (( Thanks so much, Kai! Night all! ))

[Kiss With a Fist] [thanks again for running this, Kai!]