8/28/2004

09:30 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Wharf Street, Industrial Sector
An untidy sprawl of warehouses and the occasional factory, particularly the power plant, spreads westwards, through several blocks around and west of the wharves. The wharves themselves are decrepit, rotting from the river inwards, though the landward ends are still maintained sporadically. Ash and dirt and smoke cover everything in a dark film that dulls color and darkens whiteness. Rainbows of small oil spills are nothing unusual in the warren of streets and alleyways; nor is the presence of rust along metal eaves. In the alleyways, huge trash bins are accompanied by oil drums, tires, and the waste of decades of industrial carelessness. The smell of smoke from the power plant overlays all; between smell and residue, all combines to lend an air of desperation to the empty collapsing warehouses and one of depression to those warehouses yet standing and in use.
Contents:
Lucas
Obvious exits:
Converted Warehouse North West

[Kenneth(#3651Pc)]
     In his early teens, Kenneth is already tall and a somber youth. A certain aura, an intangible, uncomfortable atmosphere penetrates his otherwise good social graces that makes him seem at first impression, unapproachable. A pity really, as he is not only young, but fairly attractive as well. His body has the muscle build of a tennis player or swimmer, toned with athletic potential yet not intimidatingly muscled. The midlength waves of his dark brown hair carry back a windswept style, with forelocks sweeping forward to accentuate the long, appealing features and shape of his face. To note further, his face shape, along with the tint of his skin, hints at him being European or perhaps Meditteranean, but also carries a very discreet golden undertone of the Far Eastern countries - an interesting, if mysterious mix of bloodlines not readily guessed by most. The mild curves of his eyebrows add to the expression of his black eyes. While not eccentrically colored, his gaze becomes highlighted with a slightly lighter grey-brown cast in stronger lighting, and is often inclined downward in a quiet, though not necessarily subdued, fashion.
     A thin, ivory colored ribbed sweater clings against his frame, looking comfortably worn. Black pants tie in well with the put together look, the cuffs falling just over his polished dark brown shoes.

Finally convinced to get out, the broody young Ahroun makes his way from the Shadow Lord safehouse and out onto the streets. Fat chance even the high Rage cub will be spooking anyone - there's no one on these desolate streets, and if they are, they keep hidden. With his hands shoved deep in his pocket, Lucas scans the streets, his jaws set with built-in tension.

Kenneth on the other hand, is doing quite a bit to keep his Rage at bay by ignoring it. "So you want to catch a movie or just walk?" he asks the ahroun, glancing about on the streets, noticing the distinct lack of people.

"Anything even good playing?" Lucas says as he continues to trudge down the streets he's long been familiar with. "Probably better to rent one, unless you feel like a private showing."

"Don't know. Why don't we just walk over an' see what's playing first? There's gotta be /somethin'/ out." Kenneth motions towards the general direction of more commercial areas. "Better than jus' standing here."

Buck had a bad day at the bar. Every game of pool he tried to scam off the locals went wrong. Now he's in seclusion around his favorite corner, hoping to make a big score with some twinked out kid. His eyes seek out someone that looks like they could use his talents. He sees a likely person and steps out, speaking in hushed tones and whispered promises.

"Fine, let's look." Lucas says sourly. Of course, he'd probably reach sour to just about anything right now. Shifting his stalk slightly, he heads for the commercial district which, sooner or later, is bound to bring their pathes right across the section of pool halls and gambling pubs. The block of sin between high-end shopping and smoldering smokestacks.

Kenneth walks on in silence after that, sunshine and rainbows compared to his dour friend. At some point, they've got to come across a theater. "You like action, or horror? Think Spider-man might be out still."

"Sure, man. It's gonna get you want you want." As Buck scans the area for anybody that might not need to see what's going on. "Cheap too. Trust me. It's the good shit." Finally the young man nods his head and reaches into his pocket to pull out some bills and shove them into Buck's hand. The large man counts the bills and shakes his head. "Not enough, my friend." And pulls the small parcel away.

"Maybe." Lucas mutters, mostly distracted as he seems particularly alert as they pass through the grubby sector of beaten down housing attached to secret whore houses and dealers. He's looking, watching, and somewhere he mutters, "...no familiar faces." With a scowl, he picks up the pace, long strides carrying him closer to the unlucky man and the kid without enough change.

Kenneth doesn't seem to worried about being spotted, not really paying attention to the shady dealings going on. "You got friends 'round here?" he utters, eyes settling briefly on Buck and the large man, but not in any attentive sense.

The large man looks up and around, suddenly uneasy. "C'mon, man. You want the shit or not?" The younger man whimpers something in low tones and Buck growls at him. "I should just take the cash for you screwing with me." Buck turns and starts to walk away, shoving the money and the small package into his pocket. The twink looks none too pleased and launches himself at Buck.

"Sort of." Comes the reply from Lucas, but nothing more as he settles his eyes on the two now that things get rough enough to draw his notice. He didn't pay attention to it before, but not, something has sparked his interest. "Hmm..." Hunching up his shoulders with his hands in his pockets, the Ahroun begins scooting in closer towards the two, abandoning the notion of catching a movie yet again.

Kenneth notices too, when the two on the corner start getting rough. About to answer the ahroun, the philodox's words abandon him as he watches from a few paces back, following along. His brow arches at the scene unfolding.

The nameless man hits Buck solidly in the back. Buck thinking the other to be just too twinked out to think straight or not big enough to take him. The twink goes about banging against the head of Buck, sending him over and into a darker part of the alley as the two men roll into a ball of fists and kicks.

Lucas perches himself at the end of the alley and leans his shoulder into the dirty brick wall, just watching the fight for the time being with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed.

Kenneth comes around the other side of the alley mouth, taking a glance in and then rolling his eyes. Glancing at the ahroun, he hisses once to get Lucas' attention. "C'mon man, let's just go."

The fight keeps going. The two men are beating the shit out of each other and the fight moves on around the corner. It's a normal fight until a voice cries out, "Holy fuck. Get off me! No, man. NO!"

Lucas visibly tenses up and bares his teeth in a silent snarl. "Not goin' anywhere." He says lowly to the halfmoon before stalking right into the dark of the alley, a rumbling slowly building in his throat as he cracks first one joint in his finger, than another.

Kenneth touches his fingertips to his forehead and sighs out loud. "I swear to God I'm gonna kick someone's ass if they make me late for the last showing..." he growls to himself before following the ahroun in. Right about then is when the fight starts to turn nasty. Kenneth narrows his eyes at the sounds coming from around the corner.

Buck is on the ground beneath the other man. At least it looks like Buck, somehow his face has been totally obliterated with a fist as the two round the corner. A bloody fist filled with grue from Buck's face fills the twinks fist now and he lifts it give it a sniff. His head then turns to regard the two coming down the alleyway, he twists his head to each side, cracking noises coming from his spine. "Go away." The twink croaks out.

"I don't think so." Lucas says as he settles his eyes on the 'victor', the wolf looking out through them. Again, a few more fingers crack, and when Lucas bares his teeth again, they're vaguely pointed. "Seems we have a problem here."

Kenneth steps around to the ahroun's side, squinting just enough to have a good look at the sight before the two Lords. "No reason to go beating up kids 'cause they don't give you drug money," he says plainly, arms folding across his chest.

"Fuck off. You have the problem." The twink says. "Go on." He waves a bloody hand in the air and directs the two of you out of the alley. "He and I have business." As he turns and starts searching Buck's pockets for the goods.

"Yeah?" Lucas growls in a rough voice, "Hard to have buisness with a guy with no face, wouldn't you say?" He moves closer a step at a time, until he no more than a handful of feet away, the tapered blade of a knife in his hand catching the faint light.

Kenneth sighs again, this time in frustration. "We're makin' it our problem now, asshat."

The twink twitches slightly and looks at the gleam of light from the knife. "I ain't done nothin to you." As he finds a knife in Buck's boot. He flicks it into the air and brandishes it about. "I told you to get away if you know what's good for you." The twink is shaking some now, most likely from the combination of rage in the alley and a need for what is still in Buck's pocket.

And the Ahroun's reply? Laughter. It's a bitter sound at best, and the wide, toothy smile he gives to the boy is nothing short of frightening. "I think I know what's good for me. Now, you gonna leave the nice bloody man alone, or I gotta pull you off of him by your teeth?"

Kenneth closes his eyes for a second's worth, and then pushes his way to the fore, moving around Lucas with a couple of steps. Calling the twink's bluff silently, the philodox advances with a wolf-like stare but without a word, rolling up his sleeves as he takes the first steps forward. Perhaps the Curse will be enough to drive the guy off, or perhaps not.

"Yeah. Yeah." As the twink's hands find what he needs in the man's pockets. The money, his and Buck's, as well as anything else is shoved into his pocket. He waves the knife some at Kenneth as he comes closer. "Dude. I'm going. Fuck off. Don't wanna hurt you." He twitches a little as he looks between the two.

As Kenneth moves closer, Lucas begins to circle, moving to cut off the twink's escape down the other end of the alley. "Try it. You had the balls to bash a man's face in, use 'em all up?" Still brandishing his own knife, the Ahroun narrows his eyes, his vision tinged with red as his smile tightens.

"Take your stash and leave the guy's money," Kenneth says loudly enough, stopping just in a good enough position to block the guy's exit on his side.

"This is my money." The twink rises up and gets a little indignant. "My fucking money." The knife swiping at the air. "And my shit." He sweats hard as the poison leaks out of his system. "Get out of my way." He steps towards Kenneth and takes a swipe towards his gut with the blade.

The growl is unmistakable as just that, like there was a massive pit bull in the alley. Lucas surges forward as he swells up into Glabro, aiming one big fist for the side of the twink's head. Not the one with the knife, yet.

Kenneth has trained well enough to dodge a knife swiping at him, though what he didn't quite expect was for the ahroun to shift. In the small alleyway, he has just enough room to backpedal before the scuffle envelops him as well.

The knife whiffs through the air and with the same motion, the twink gets a fist to the side of his head. he goes down and lands on his ass. His eyes go wild, "Shit. Oh God, man. What the fuck is that?" He looks to Kenneth, most likely forgetting he just tried to slice the man. "Stop it man, I didn't mean to hurt nobody." The open wound on the side of his skull bleeds down the side of his face. He feels no pain however, drugged to the gills.

Half shadowed, half not, the light and shade play on the Ahroun's Glabro features, making his body look even more distorted. Given the fallen boy's current position, though, the crazy-looking neanderthal could just be the produce of drugs or a budding concussion. "Like fuck you didn't. You don't do damage to someone like that without meaning it." He says in a voice of gravel.

Kenneth takes the opportunity to glance over at Buck. Then, back to the twink on the floor, the philodox levels his black eyes down. Advancing again from his backwards step, he comes forward and stands just within kick range. "You tried to cut me. Wasn't very nice of you." His voice is cold as ice, a touch of restraint showing in his hostile posture.

The twink looks like a hurt child. "I needed it and he wouldn't give it to me. I had to have it." His head twitches and the twink's eyes close for a minute as if his head was pounding. "Had to fucking get some. Need some." His voice keens with pain and pressure. He shys away as Kenneth gets closer to him like hurt dog. "Got... To... STOP... It." As the twink launches himself with the knife at the "hallucination", slashing like mad. The hallucination being Lucas.

Aww, now he did it. And Lucas was being soo good. The junkie's knife slices, but only does the effect of a crazed barber as black fur goes flying - which doesn't make the nine-odd-foot tall monster all too happy. This time, Kenneth is bound to recognize it. The madness in glazed eyes, the feeling you get when someone's sick nearby... The crinos-formed Ahroun opens his jaws wide and lunges, right for the twinkie's head.

"Fuckin' hell." Kenneth's only got a half second's worth of time to work with -- maybe not enough. But given the proximity of the Thrall'ed ahroun, the philodox surges up to his warform in a blink and lunges forward with the blur of Rage. Forget saving the human. He just wants to get the ahroun under control.

What is heard when a Garou gets angry and meets a twinkie, is a sickening pop of a skull. It explodes under the jaws, the knife still flailing up until the moment that the rest of the body goes limp and falls from the crinos jaws. The head, or the smattering of brain and skull still holding on to the garou's jaw with sinew like a child's mobile dangling in the wind. The twink, much like Buck, is dead.

Meanwhile, Fears-No-Darkness has crunched the boy's head like a grape and looks full and ready to go at the rest of him with a certain unnatural gusto as what still attached to his jaws is licked off. *Wham* One Crinos slams into the other, which is probably a worse idea then just letting the Ahroun eat the dead junkie. 'Cause now, No-Fear sets his sights on Edgewalker, who has just put himself in the position of 'stealing the kill'. The claws goes flying and the jaws a'snappin with alarming speed, foam flying from his bloody jaws.

Edgewalker passes the point of no return as soon as he bodyslams into the ahroun. Feeling the sudden burn of claws opening up deep gashes in his side, the philodox snarls with an unnatural ferocity born by the full moon also riding him. But unlike the ahroun, his strike is aimed. The philodox gives his right arm to the crinos' jaws, and plunges his left fist towards the throat of the other. Repeatedly, if necessary.

The blow is aimed well, but if it hurts the Ahroun, he doesn't notice, and Edgewalker might get precious seconds pause at most for his efforts. As he's attacked, Fears-No-Darkness explodes with fury, driving his claws with full force towards the halfmoon's face and almost too fast to follow.

Like dodging the knife from earlier, this one much more deadly, Edgewalker doesn't just step back, but instead brings up his arms to block and redirect. The halfmoon uses the momentum of the ahroun's charge, grabbing, spinning, and hoping to Gaia he knows how the hell to send a frenzied full moon to the ground.

It's not easy and probably involves a large 2X4 with nails to do it. Bellowing with anger at being spun and whirled like a demented ballerina, Fears-No-Darkness is dragging his rear claws across the pavement to keep his balance, creating an awful sound as he does so. The half moon has his claws in the full moon's arms, but sure enough, the full moon ends up likewise. Around and around they go, No-Fear snapping with his jaws as he keeps lunging forward, shoving with all his might to overpower the other crinos.

The circle of blood continues to fling itself round the alleyway until the philodox finally has his back to the alleyway's pitch darkness. That's when he drops his weight down, falling backwards like a 400 pound sack of potatoes. Applying the strength of his legs and force of the fall, he picks his paws up and pulls the ahroun close right as the fullmoon's teeth snap closed on his neck fur. Then with a heave, he makes to throw the ahroun over him and further into the alley.

No-Fear is launches, dragging tufts of fur with him and wedged between his teeth. With the sound like a small car being topples, the Ahroun collides with the cracked pavement, hitting first the back of his shoulders and then slamming down onto his back. Wheezing and snarling, he goes to pull himself up off the ground and onto four legs.

Edgewalker rolls to all fours as well, arm muscles twitching from effort of the mutilated muscle. As he crouches there in the dark, the panting philodox growls out warningly. ~Stop it, NOW.~

No-Fear only heard the growl over the Rage buzzing in his ears, not the words. He snarls back, tongue hanging out of a gaped mouth, blood and saliva dripping from between his teeth. The Ahroun pulls himself back upright and hunches, bristling and begins lurching closer.

Edgewalker bares his teeth back, though the unmistakeable scent of his fear trickles barely in the air, mixing with the scent of blood. Fur stuck out like a porcupine's, the philodox rights himself back to his bipedal posture, mimicking the ahroun save for his step back taken backwards. Pawpads dig into the ground as he seeks purchase and anticipates.

No-Fear jerks open his jaws and roars, eyes blazing red-hot, even as blood leaks down from his coat in puddles. The Ahroun tenses then lunges, aiming a swipe of curved claws for the other cub's belly.

Edgewalker didn't think that the ahroun had come out of it yet. The roar sets his ears back flat against his head, the philodox leaping backwards to keep himself at least whole down in the midsection. The claws land, but only graze their path on the cub's skin. Hot Rage pumps into the philodox's mind, himself fighting for control, as he drops into a tripod and charges like a linesman for the takedown.

This time, tho', the Ahroun jerks himself aside and a step away. It happens to bring him back against his previous 'kill', which serves to distract Fears-No-Darkness for a moment as he drools and sniffs at it.
Edgewalker seizes the opportunity given with the ahroun's distraction, and makes a dash for the entrance of the alleyway not too far away. The path he takes is deliberately under the nose of the other crinos. The philodox burns what he can, Rage fueling his limbs to move quick as they can towards the fire hydrant on the sidewalk.

With the attention span of a rabid five year old, Fears-No-Darkness is diverted to Edgewalker again. Nostrils flaring, he snarls and takes chase, pounding hot on the heels of the halfmoon with the full force of his remaining Rage soaking up the distance.

Edgewalker drops to all fours when he reaches a couple of feet from the mouth of the alleyway. Scrabbling his way to the hydrant, he rounds it just long enough to dig his claws in and in a feat of strength, pulls at the hydrant until the water gushes out in a pseudo-directed stream of high powered water towards the alleyway.

Mid-way through a roar, Fears-No-Darkness is left gurgling and engulfing water as the blast hits him full on. He's sent end over end, his exhausted strength leaving him unable to fight back against the force. Somewhere further down the alley, the Ahroun is left in a sodden, soaked mass that shrinks down as his exhausted Rage saps the conciousness from him.

Using the roar of water as a quick coverup for him to shift, the philodox plunges into the water after the ahroun, slipping and sliding until he's at the other boy's side. The water soaks him, soaks the ground, soaks just about everything in its path. He on the other hand, is quite awake and with the remnants of Rage and adrenaline pumping in his veins. The crinos shifts to Glabro, and subsequently picks up the ahroun, hefting him over his shoulder, before hot footing it out of the alley. Blood loss be damned, it's the philodox who cleans up both of them, trusting the massively stained concrete of downtown to do most of the work in covering up their tracks.