7/21/2004

02:01 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Farmhouse: Hallway and Living Room
All doorways in the front part of the house lead to the front hallway, a J-shaped area with the short tail starting at the stairs, the front door hitting the bottom curve, the doorless opening to the living room halfway up the long side, and the also doorless opening to the kitchen and dining room at the very top. The hall has a simple wooden floor, and decorated with a generic print of soft-colored flowers hanging on the wall to the right of the front door, and a tall table sitting under the print which serves as a place to toss keys. A closet under the stairs serves as a place to hang coats or to toss shoes.
The doorless opening to the living room is halfway up the side of the hall's J, and the word cozy might spring to mind when looking into is, as it seems to radiate comforting vibrations. A long couch sits against the south wall beneath a large bay window curtained only by sheers that manages to obscure the view in but only filters the day's light. A variety of out-of-date magazines are strewn atop a low coffee table; more neatly presented are the plethora of books filling the small bookshelves which line the eastern wall. Three chairs sit about the room, focused inward, to allow group conversations. Large floor pillows are stacked in one corner of the room, except one, which lies carelessly in the middle of the floor, apparently left out the last time it was used.
An opening in the northern end of the hallway allows access to the kitchen and dining room at the back of the house, while carpeted stairs twist up at the other end of the hall, leading to the second floor. A door at the base of the J lets out to the front porch.
(Non-Garou, please "+view curse")
Contents:
Lucas
NOTE: Current Farmhouse Residents (Updated: Jul 15)
Obvious exits:
Kitchen/Dining Room Front Door STairs

Kenneth chews away at a makeshift sandwich, the meats piled on all wrapped in a large leaf of lettuce. There's even a tomato in there somewhere. In his other hand, a pen, furiously writing notes into a spiral notebook that is somewhat common to see around Kenneth.

There's the sound of oversized feet coming down the stairs, and it's soon determined to be Lucas. He's looking better, but still sporting bandages that have been freshly changed. "Anymore food out there?" He asks, spying the wrap in the halfmoon's hand.

Kenneth looks up from his notetaking at the glabro. "Yeh," he grunts from around the sandwich wrap with a nod. "Need to get new milk though." There's a grimace from him when he mentions that.

"The only milk I like is frozen and in a half gallon container." Luc says in his deep, raspy glabro voice. His feet hit the carpet and carry him towards the kitchen, his stomach rumbling as he goes. "So what's up?"

Kenneth shakes his head. "Nothin' but training," the Shadow Lord replies, finishing his lettuce wrap with a savory smack of his lips. Chewing occupies a few seconds more before he can continue. "Writin'. Just making sure I still remember how the hell to do it." Looking back down to his notes, he flips the page to an empty one. "Your head better?"

"Good as new, thankfully." Comes the reply from the kitchen, as the sounds of plastic deli bags, jars, and other sandwich making intruments can be heard. "Soon as the holes in my chest heal, I'll be back to normal."

Kenneth scratches away with the pen, now with his right hand free to hold the page down he can do so quicker than before. "Cool," he replies half-distracted. "I took that shirt out yesterday an' buried it in the woods. Figure I'd go back and see if I can find it today."

Lucas comes back from the kitchen with an oversized, double-decker sandwich in hand. Hey, glabros have big stomachs. "Want me to come with you? I should be durable enough by now to go."

Kenneth writes down a few last things in the notebook before he flips it closed. "Sure. Took most of the evening to find a good place, but I'm pretty sure tracking it down shouldn't take nearly as long." He looks over at the glabro then, patiently waiting for the ahroun to consume the sandwich. He in turn gets up to go to the kitchen for something else to eat. "How good're you at shifting now?" he asks, keeping his flow of conversation going.

"It's pretty easy, most of the time." Lucas shrugs and chomps on a mouthful of double-sized sandwich. "Mmrf... not like I got anything else to do in my spare time, so I shift around, get used to the forms."

Kenneth returns with a bottle of water and a few more meat slices in a lettuce wrap, this one nowhere as large as the one from before. "You thought of anything else you haven't learned yet?"

Lucas shrugs his shoulders as he chews, replying post-swallow. "Well, tribe-specific stuff and things with the spirits. But I got time yet to learn all of that."

Kenneth looks off towards the window, still taking his time with the wrap. "Met Megan. She was in the barn when you an' Josh were fighting. Came in brief like. But more importantly, the other day I met her over in the kitchen, the other real tall Strider guy, Seeker, came 'round with news about a caern up north falling to Black Spiral Dancers. You heard that one yet?"

Lucas frowns slightly at mention of the fight, but doesn't say anything about it, or Megan. "I haven't heard anything about that."

Kenneth nods slightly. "Apparently. Some Garou from here wanted to go help 'em there, but didn't because that'd leave this place open. Some fucked up happenings at that other caern's Great Hunt, and the Garou there are either dead or Spiralized." The philodox doesn't look impressed, nor does he look particularly worried. "Sounds like this Wyrm stuff is a lot closer than before. Lot closer than they'd tell us about anyway. And the wards around the caern or whatever, is messed up from the last attack. Like it's weak."

Lucas frowns and furrows his big brow. "Sucks. So we're screwed then, basically?"

"Dunno," Kenneth replies, going to sit down on the couch where he was before. "Hell if I'm going to be around if that happens, but just one of those warnings y'know? Not takin' any stranger for granted. But given all the ahrouns and shit here, there're probably a lot more in this sept alone than we think. But it gives us more reason t' practice shifting, y'know?"

Lucas nods his head in agreement, "And they already have practice kicking the Wyrm's ass here, since it tried to take the place before. So, at least they know what to do, right?"

Kenneth coughs a laugh. "They better. We better. There's gotta be a better way of fightin' in crinos without getting the shit clawed out of you." The youth's fingers drum along the couch arm.

"Doubt it." Lucas says, chomping down one of the last two bites of sandwich. "It's called the warform for a reason. Namely, killing things." The Ahroun points out with all due bluntness.

"Yeah but think about it." Kenneth counters, looking up to the glabro. "If you get your guts torn out, there ain't no way in hell you'd be able to win fighting against more than 1 badguy at a time. If you're facin' down 3, maybe even 5 crinos Spiral Dancers, what're you gonna do? You'd be fuckin' dead, and you'd be lucky if you can kill just one."

Lucas just shrugs his shoulders, "Well, 'least you can do your damndest to take as many of 'em with you. B'sides, the way I hear it, you can manage to keep fighting even with a few feet of intestines missing. So I hear, anyway."

Kenneth shakes his head and leans back against the couch, fingers lacing behind his head. "Not if they just knock you out an' take you back to be brainwashed. And Aiyana's said we're probably outnumbered anyway. So, it's one of those fight well, but fight smart things, y'know?"

Lucas pops the last mouthful in his maw and chews thoughtfully. "Is their brainwashing impossible to resist? I mean... we can't have lived this long with them hounding us if we couldn't resist them."

Kenneth shrugs in reply. "They're probably not as stupid to go chasin' Garou around like that either. Sneaky bastards, remember? No sneaky bastard's gonna just face up a Garou and say 'Hey, join us or die!'" He slides the remnants of wrap to the back of his mouth. "Uther than that," he continues, mouth partly full, "they must have cubs too, fucked up as they might be. Maybe there's a way to reverse it."

Lucas shrugs his shoulders, next to clueless on the subject. "Guess that spiral or whatever of theirs is the brainwashing device. Ya know, it almost makes it sound good to join the dark side. Sure, your face'll get fucked up and you'll glow green, but we're smarter than you... and we're winning."

Kenneth slowly nods, swallowing down. "Shit. An' what if we're on the wrong side?" He shrugs, standing up at that. "But that'd depend on whose point of view; not somethin' I'm going to worry about." The halfmoon runs his hands through his hair to straighten it back up. "So y'wanna come with? Gonna go look for the shirt again."

Lucas shrugs his shoulders. "Guess we'll figure it all out... probably when we're getting our guts yanked out." Optimist that he is. "Alright, let's go look for your bloody shirt." He tilts his head to one side, cracking oversized vertebrae, then moves to follow the Philodox out.

Kenneth snorts, and stands up to move out of the house.

Bawn: Western Forest(#3018RA)
Tall Sitka spruce and sequoia crowd around and above you. Many of the trees are old, their branches twisted into impossible shapes, trunks broad and draped with lichen, mosses and creepers. Tendrils of moss hand down from them like green spiderwebs, snaring the unwary with cold, ghostly fingers. The patches of younger growth are dense and pale, needles tinged with silver. Matted undergrowth huddles sullenly in the occasional small clearings, clutching with thorns and burrs at the legs of those who would pass. Deer seldom venture here, but the forest is full of rustlings, and tiny glints from wary, watchful eyes.
The forest spreads out to the east, bounded on the west by Sunrise Road. From farther to the west, one can occasionally hear the distant sounds of the town of Kent's Crossing.
Obvious exits:
Highway 22 Overgrown Path Sunrise Road Farmhouse Caern of the Hidden Walk Creek Central Bawn Southern Bawn Northern Bawn

Once in the woods, the philodox shifts to his lupus form. With a shake of his fur, he has a look around at the trees, waiting for the ahroun to shift as well.

Tromping after the Slord, Lucas is quick to take the wolf form as soon as they're out of view. The bandages fall away, and with a satisfied grunt, the big wolf shakes himself off and takes a few testing steps, feeling the tight pull of new skin still growing on his chest. Four long, hairless claw strikes on his chest.

Edgewalker glances at the four angry red marks on the ahroun's chest, an ear flickering. Looks good, he rumbles regarding the possibility of scars. Sniffing around, the Shadow Lord begins checking around the trees and then once he finds a certain scent -- his own -- he starts tracking it further into the woods. For some time the path continues straight, but once they reach a small stream of water, the halfmoon pauses.

Fears-No-Dark doubts they'll become scars, thanks to those amazing healing abilities, and it rather dissapoints him. Ohwell. He yawns and stretches, and the halfmoon gets a bit ahead as the Ahroun loosens himself up after some time being bedridden. A quick trot catches him up, however, and he follows along behind, sniffing the trail on occasion.

Edgewalker is following his own trail, the halfmoon notifies Fears. Easier that way, but not really the best to learn about tracking. He steps into the waters, feelings the refreshing cool flow over his paws. Here is where it should get challenging. The Shadow Lord crosses, and nose to the ground travels first upstream, then back down. It takes some time to pick up the very faint scent of his own, with it being faded with time.

The reply from the fullmoon cub is a rather obvious, I noticed. He knows your smell. A quick drink is taken of the stream before the thing is jumped - not that it's much of a challenge.

Edgewalker flicks his tail. How about a challenge? The halfmoon lifts his head high. If I find it first, you hunt for this night's food, and no making human food. He leaves the option of what Lucas wants open.

Fears-No-Dark licks his jaws, his ears laid back in a visual sigh. You are challenging me because I'm still healing. Very fair, halfmoon. Still, he seems to be considering it, his own scrappy pride poking him not to turn it down. Fine. If I win, you hunt. No human food, nothing already dead.

Edgewalker snorts, as he is only trying to make things interesting. Otherwise he could have come here and hunted on his own. Scraping a wet paw against the dirt, he leaves trio of furrows behind. Nothing already dead, he rumbles in echo. And I have no advantage here, since I hid the bloody rag at night. Howl if you find it, and we meet back here. His ears tilt forward, asking if the ahroun is fine with the terms.

Fears-No-Dark dips his muzzle and chuffs out an agreement to the terms, then plants his nose to the trail to pick up on the scent. He'll just have to make sure to follow the old trail of the Lord, not the new, since he has no idea what the shirt itself smells like - except blood.

Seeming to also know this is one advantage on his side, the Shadow Lord starts back onto the trail. For a good time it looks like both wolves would be scenting out the halfmoon's old trail and following it along, but at one point, the trail fades completely away as they reach an animal trail, and the scent of a skunk wafts through the air. Edgewalker wrinkles his nose up with a snort. Great. Skunk.

Not to far away, there's another snort and then a whine and a lot of rustling. It seems Fears-No-Darkness may have found the skunk, or at least gotten a bit too close for comfort.

Edgewalker sneezes again, torn between amusement and disgust, stepping far away from the ahroun as he can. Licking at his muzzle trying to rid himself of the sharp, unpleasant tang, he plants his nose closer to the ground and tries to sift through skunk spray to find his old scent. The hunt just got a lot harder.

A keen here might here the Ahroun not far behind, grumbling about the pain the smell is causing his brain. Or a close lupus equivilant of such complaints. He drags his nose in the dirt, as if trying to cover one scent with the other. He'll have no luck following the trail like this.

Edgewalker speeds up to a trot, winding this way and that, not only throwing off the already faint scent of his old trail with his new, but trying to get away from the ahroun's skunked self. Nose lifting from the ground, he pauses to look at a tree, sniffing at the bark along its base. Then, marking it with a fresh scratch of his claws, he continues on. The Philodox spares a glance behind him at the pained lost lupe.

His face dirty, his coat rank, and his chest sore, the Ahroun is really regretting even getting out of bed this morning. In a cranky mood, he tries to pick up the trail again, and ends up resolving to follow the newer trail for awhile, at least until he can get away from the skunk.

The tracking hunt continues on, the two cubs travelling and leaving quite a nasty trail of skunk behind, until they reach the same small creek which the cubs hunting each other during hide and seek had crossed through. The Shadow Lord's ears perk up and he crosses the water in a hurry. No doubt he remembers something of where he'd hidden the shirt now, and makes a line towards a certain set of rocks on the other side of the creek. Once there, the philodox digs about the base of one of the larger boulders, pulling one rock away. His enthusiasm deflates just as quickly though, as there is no shirt to be found.

Fears-No-Dark pauses at the creek to roll in it, desperatly trying to get rid of the smell on him. It doesn't help, and only soaks it in more. With a faint whine, he slinks after the Philodox and spies him at the rocks, snorting. He starts sniffing around, hunting for blood. Was it taken by an animal?

Edgewalker glances up as the skunky ahroun comes around, unable to hide his additional distaste at the smell. No, it couldn't have been. The philodox seems confident that this is true, as he moves off and sniffs around the vicinity of the rocks. Doesn't smell like anything came here. The Lord sits, gazing around, brain working. Then a memory strikes him, and he takes off into the woods, trotting at a faster pace. Despite the skunk scent in his nostrils he's soon established his own scent again, along with another, different scent - the shirt's scent. He must have dragged it along at this point of the rocks. Soon the trail leads along until it circles around a particularly large tree in the forest. It's here the philodox busies himself with looking about again, scenting for the next step.

Fears-No-Dark saunters on after the halfmoon, letting him locate the basic area. Once he reaches the tree, he begins to snoop around, nudging his nose here and there among the roots and rocks, trying to catch the scent of blood. He smells something metallic yet organic, faint, but he goes after it.

Edgewalker turns his head as extra movement from the ahroun draws his attention. The ahroun's nudge at the rock tips it over, revealing another scratch mark from the halfmoon on the ground. It looks like it's an X shape, or rather, a multiple criss-cross shape in the form of an X. As the halfmoon makes his way over, nose working to filter out skunk from ahroun and metallic blood scent, he peers with ears tilted forward at the X. The halfmoon huffs and sits. Great, except, the dirt is not moved here, so I could not have buried it here.

It marks the spot. Fears-No-Darkness recites, having no real lupus term for the letter X. So, he begins to dig, feeling like some strange Garou pirate. First he lets the halfmoon follow the trail for him, and now he's out to steal the booty. Sure he wasn't supposed to a Ragabash?

Edgewalker licks his muzzle again, rumbling his doubt. Leaving the ahroun to let him dig away, the philocub continues hunting around the area for signs. All around here is his own scent, ringing the large tree. The scent of the shirt is very near as well, as both lupus can smell that coppery tinge. Finally frustrated, the halfmoon sits on his haunch, watching the ahroun dig for awhile, then leaning his head back and yawning widely with his tongue curled. As he reopens his eyes, he blinks. Ha! the Shadow Lord barks aloud, jumping up to his paws. Found it!

Fears-No-Dark tugs his head out of the empty hole and blinks. Where? He says, bewildered as he looks first one way, then the other, and then follows the Lord's gaze.

Edgewalker's nose is pointed upwards towards the branches of the large tree where the two cubs are. Up in the tree branches, the raggedly torn shirt flutters, hooked on a branch. The Shadow Lord considers for a moment, and then shifts up to the near man. "Remember now," he says gruffly in the deepened voice of his. "Last time Dillen climbed up into that one tree and you saw him first. And this tree's too hard to climb in homid." Kenneth looks triumphantly down at the ahroun.

Certainly, the Ahroun has seen better days. He's wet and dirty, which equals out to mud, he stinks as though he met the wrong end of a skunk, and he looks like he got into a fight with a nine-foot-tall weed wacker. He droops in disappointment and sneezes dust from his nose, the lupus-formed cub going into a very obvious sulk.

Pierces Ice lopes easily through the forest. Catching the skunk scent in the air, she turns to follow it to its source. Ears come forward, a snarl forming at her muzzle, as she approaches the lupus cub at the base of the tree.

Kenneth is about to climb up the tree, when Pierces Ice lopes into the area. He stares down at the wolf as well, her being unfamiliar to him. Still, the philodox remains tensed. "Yo," he rolls out in greeting, from the back of his throat.

Fears-No-Dark puffs his muddy, smelly fur out in response to the suggestion of a snarl, but he otherwise doesn't appear in the mood to put up a whole lot of resistance. In fact, he doesn't even look at either one of them.

Pierces Ice's snarl becomes a full fledged growl, hackles rising and right ear giving a very small twitch. Who are you?

[Pierces Ice]
This arctic wolf's thick, cream coat seems almost yellow when touched by the sun. She's not large, but her stocky frame seems sturdy enough. Perhaps despite her thickness of body, there is an air of alertness about her. It can be seen in the deep brown of her eyes, the cant of her ear, and the facility of each step.

Kenneth leaves the shirt be, stepping away from the tree, closer to the other cub. "Kenneth," he replies. "Edgewalker, Philodox cub of the Shadow Lords." He keeps his eyes on the white wolf, left hand flexing slightly, anticipating attack from the unknown, growling wolf.

Fears-No-Dark flicks an ear and then lays both back, his head dropping lower between his shoulders. We have met, Pierces-the-Ice-Rhya. He is Fears-No-Darkness, Lost Ahroun Cub. He looks at her again, but out of the corner of his eye instead of directly.

Pierces Ice snorts, recognition slow to come to her eyes and posture, but the growl eases. To Kenneth she gives her introduction, a tension remaining in her eyes. I am Pierces the Ice, Alpha and Warrior of Little Brother's Children. You would do well to make your introduction before it is asked of you, pup. Her attention then returns to Fears-No-Dark. You smell like a dead walrus.

Kenneth narrows his gaze at the Wendigo, victory soured. Though his jaw clenches, he turns away and says nothing more. Instead, the halfmoon looks back to the tree and makes a great leap up to catch his hand on one of the lower branches. Once he's pulled himself up the Shadow Lord retrieves the bloody shirt given to him, stuffing it into a pocket before he shifts back to his breed form. Perched like a crow over the two wolves, he stays there for awhile.

The obvious statement makes the young Ahroun puff up larger, probaby only adding to the dead walrus observation. Skunk. He corrects with an overall defeated posture and slumps back onto his haunches.

The Shadow Lord looks up towards the fluttering piece of cloth in the branches, and then back down at the lupus ahroun. "So it looks like you're huntin' tonight. But, I don't think you're catching anything with that smell. Know how to get out skunk smell?"

Fears-No-Dark tilts up a single ear in the halfmoon's direction and replies no, resisting the urge to try and lick the smell out. His human mind realizes that would be a really bad idea.

Kenneth hms, nose twitching even in Glabro at the smell. "Maybe that old wives' thing of tomato juice can get it out. We can try it when we get back."

Fears-No-Dark gives an unhappy snort and a grumble, ears going flat again. If there is any there. And he almost hopes it's not, almost. He knows no other way.

Kenneth scratches at the back of his neck, and then sighs. "Sorry man. I didn't have any dogs when I was younger. From the looks of things, there's probably a good reason why. If we had a computer an' some Internet, or even just a freakin' phone in the farmhouse I bet we could find someone who knew how to get rid o' skunk. Maybe someone back at the farmhouse does know. Hell, they're around the woods enough they /should/ know."

Fears-No-Dark slinks a few feet away, where out of sheer annoyance, he flings himself down and proceeds to scrub more dirt into his coat, thinking that perhaps it might be able to suck out some of the spray clinging to his pelt.

Kenneth looks back up to the shirt, trying to determine a path which to climb up to it. "Think maybe it'll come off better if you shift and take a dunk in the creek?"

Probably not. Fears-No-Darkness lets his chin thunk down onto the ground, sprawled out on his side. Then it will just be in my skin, not my fur.

"How'd you find that skunk anyway?" Kenneth asks, gazing back down at the sprawling ahroun. "I know I smelled skunk, but didn't think it was that close."

I was trying to follow the trail. Fears-No-Darkness replies. There was too much skunk. I found it, not the shirt.

Kenneth hms, hand rubbing at his chin in thought. "What's skunk spray made outta anyway? Not their piss I hope."

Fears-No-Dark gives a quizical sort of whine that's a rough equivilant to a shrug. He has no idea. He would rather not know, being it is all over him.

"You're right. I don't wanna know either. But you're sleepin' in the barn tonight if we don't find something to take that off." Kenneth snorts, holding back his desire to chuckle. "I guess I ought to grab this shirt an' we can head back to the farm."

Fears-No-Dark utters a snort as he rolls back onto four legs and stands up. I always sleep in the barn. The Ahroun gives himself a sharp shake, sending dust and mud flying off his fur.

Kenneth gets splattered with flecks of mud which he quickly moves to avoid further assault. "Hey! No need to spray what's already been sprayed," he growls, before wiping off against the tree.

Fears-No-Dark eyes the Philodox. This game was your idea, you can share the spoils. He says, with as much sarcasm as a lupus can have.

Kenneth brushes off some more mud from his arm and smirks. "Now you know how I feel sometimes," he grunts. "You want to call it off then? Cause obviously tonight's hunting isn't gonna happen with you smellin' like that, and I'm not that good at catchin' rabbits myself."

Fears-No-Dark wrinkles his muzzle and sneezes again. We should. I'm in no mood to hunt anyway, and I am still healing. Another night.

Kenneth nods then, walking over to the lupe and stooping in his glabro, hand reaching out with palm up to shake and seal the agreement. "A'ight. Sooner we get back, sooner this stuff can get scrubbed off proper."

Fears-No-Dark thunks a big, muddy paw into the Shadow Lord's hand in an awkward attempt at a shake, then resettles his four feet onto the ground. I think I should stay in the barn until we figure out a way.

Kenneth rubs some of the mud on his palm back onto the ground, but otherwise leaves it be. He nods in agreement, sniffing once and regretting it. "Yeah." Finally once the whole deal with Jacinta goes down, the Shadow Lord climbs back down from retrieving the t-shirt and motions with his head over towards the direction of the farm. Now he definitely knows how to get back at least. "Let's go."