Received from: Tskilegwa

Casually starting a patrol of the streets, James develops a working knowledge of the town's layout, which streets go where, their names, where the cops tend to lurk, routes that might make for good getaways, etc. He does notice that there's a lot of military vehicles--Hummers and 2.5 ton transport trucks--running around. Apparently they're support staff to keep people out of Hanford and patrol the borders and interior. Newswise, there's nothing you haven't seen in St. Claire's papers or on TV. So it's pretty unremarkable stuff: a couple murders here, disappearing person over there, stabbings here and there. And, slowly, over the course of the week, something dawns on you: there's an aweful lot of the same kind of stuff that goes on in St. Claire's population in this town, but there /shouldn't/ be because it's so much smaller--30K as opposed to a million. By all rights, with such a small and isolated town, it ought to be a quieter place to live than a big city, but you figure the streets here and the streets in St. Claire could easily be just as dangerous after the sun goes down. If not moreso. There's far fewer lost person things stuck up, but that's probably because in such a small town it's harder to get lost for very long--unlike St. Claire where you can walk around all day and see nothing but strangers. You do notice several fliers for personal geiger counters and cheaper radiation badges. Fun town. Almost makes St. Claire's look like Candyland.

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Message: 9/14 in folder main Received: Mon Mar 10 17:28:22 2003
From: Apocalypse
To: Leonard, Alicia, Tyler, Yi, and Jamethon
Subject: Fwd: TV/Media research
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Received from: Tskilegwa

Well thank *fuck* that this fuckin' fuckity fuck of a town has fuckin' cable TV! It's not too big, population of about 30K, so it just might not have had any. Probably didn't about 20 years ago. Newswise, there's nothing you haven't seen in St. Claire's papers or on TV. So it's pretty unremarkable stuff: a couple murders here, disappearing person over there, stabbings here and there. And, slowly, over the course of the week, something dawns on you: there's an aweful lot of the same kind of stuff that goes on in St. Claire's population in this town, but there /shouldn't/ be because it's so much smaller--30K as opposed to a million. Maybe it's the whole population or a couple groups of people, but you get the idea that this is not a place to be out alone after dark. Well, if you're some nancy-pants human, at least. The local TV advertising channel, which plays light pop/rock while one image for services or products is displayed after the other, intermixed with weather reports and other events, strikes you as a bit unusual, too. There's advertisements for radon gas reduction kits, cancer treatment center at the hospital, and even geiger counters for personal use. And a reminded to all local hunters that they need to take their game to a local testing center before consuming it. You make a mental note to not go licking the ground around here.

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Message: 12/14 in folder main
Received: Mon Mar 10 23:32:20 2003
From: Alicia
To: Leonard, Yi, Apocalypse, and Jamethon
Subject: Fwd: Research
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Received from: Tskilegwa

In Hanford, a town of about 30K, there's only one "club" and it pales in comparison to the lamer of St. Claire's offering. Mostly it's local posers who don't have the time, money, or transportation to go an hour or two to another town. The club scene ends out being fruitless and you quit on the second night once you discover the first night wasn't a fluke. The rougher bars are /exactly/ that. There are military types in there by the scores and they're all itching to fight and fuck. You quickly realize the need to tread lightly in order to avoid starting or getting sucked into a brawl. The overwhelming majority seem to be doing security detail on the Hanford Site, which is at a heightened state of alert with the potential terrorist threat. They seem a bit more aggressive than most people, but whether that's due to the army training, local attitudes, alcohol, radioactivity, being a fomor, or being a BSD is anyone's guest. You're witness to at least 2-4 fights a night, a few brawls, and a stabbing. Yes, there is Wyrm Taint in the bars. It's everywhere in the town, but a bit stronger in the rough and tumble bars. Yet another reason to not draw too much attention to oneself. You score a map of the area easily enough at a quickie-mart--no need for the trip to the DMV. And your internet search yields a discussion and history of the Hanford site that suddenly makes St. Claire's sewers seem like a potential trip to Garou Disney Land. http://www.vicbondi.com/Vistas/Hanford/HanfordIL1.htm. It also shows how desolate the place is, and how it's 500 square miles in size.

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The Void(#3946RJ)
None of you understand. I'm not locked up in here with you: you're locked up in here with me.
Contents:
[Alicia, Jamethon, Tskilegwa]

Tskilegwa pages to the room: Fill in the blanks. When last we left our intrepid heroes, they were.....

...our intrepid heroes, they were stalking the night towards the local uniform hangout. A rowdy bar where drinks are always ordered by the round, and fists and blood are the only meals on the menu. Upon getting close enough to see the doors clearly enough in the shadow filled city night saddly lit by a retreating moon, he takes a token from a jacket pocket. Appearing as a thick curved needle, an animal's fang carved from a strong hearty wood and stained red with the blood of noble prey. Squeezing it in his meaty hand, James closes his eyes and concentrates on the talen, muttering something in a language known as the Spirit's Tongue.

Rubbing her fingers stuck inside her pockets, Yi inhales sharply and sighs out with the feeling of tension throbbing in the back of her head. Too much military. Too many uniforms. She never liked uniforms. The Gnawer glances at Alicia, then to Jamethon, leading the pack.

Jamethon reaches out to Alicia, grabbing her hand and squeezing it slightly. Pulling her closer he places an arm around her, then turns his head nodding quickly to Yi as they start walking closer once more. James slumps down as bit as he walks, looking all the more like a thug in jeans and a tshirt, then his usual kung fu wear; stretchy clothing and tall, balanced demenor.

Alicia squeezes James's hand back in return as she makes her way in, dressed in a short leather mini skirt, a halter that reveals just about everything you need to imagine, and a pair of ass kicking steel toes. She slips down into a chair, leaning back after kissing her date on the cheek, glancing about with her dark painted eyes.

The bar is, as predicted, a rowdy place where the local military types go to get drunk and sometimes fight. Not the kind of place you'd bring a date, really. But there's lots of beer. And sports. And rockabilly music on the jukebox.

Yi on the other hand, glances at Jamethon and Alicia's act. Right then. Waiting for a few minutes, the Gnawer follows in after the two on her independent role. Heading to a place near where the couple sits, about ten feet or so, she takes her place as a wallflower. A small, unassuming, just out for a change of scenery wallflower.

It takes a few minutes before a well-groped waitress, who doesn't seem to mind too much, finds her way over to Jamethon and Alicia's table. "Howdy, folks. What'll it be?" It's a bored kind of politeness that lingers about her. Just doing her job. Yi is largely ignored for the most part, though she does get the occasional glance from random guys. After all, she's a female, in a bar, by herself, where the males outrank the females to about a 3 to 1 ratio.

Jamethon fingers the number two to the waitress when she looks Jame's way. A scowl is worn on his face at all times. When you look like James, appearing aloof, unfriendly, and untalkative can be a bonus.

Alicia snaps a piece of gum in her mouth as she leans back in her chair, drawing her arms upwards and pops a few joints in her back. She shirt pulls up to reveal her toned out stomach, flat. With a quiet yawn, she runs her fingers up the back of James's head, playing with his hair.

Yi makes rounds with her eyes on the men of the bar. Each one receives a fair evaluating gaze, picking and choosing which would be the worst to meet in a shadowed alley. Anyone who might stand out in particular- loud, boisterous boys, or quiet, aloof men- get the Gnawer's dark eyes. She sends a quick look back towards Jamethon's and Alicia's direction.

Jamethon grunts loudly as Alicia' touches his head, tilting it back slightly, it seems a mixed signal of sorts though all the scowl conveys is a look of anger and supressed violence. He doesn't look at anyone in particular, even Alicia doesn't get more then an occasional glance. What an asshole this guy is being to his girl, or so it seems, she doesn't seem to mind though. When the beers come he sniffs at his first, and barring it not smelling like death, James throws it down his gullet in one impressive fell swoop, not finishing till his glass contains but a trickle of alcohol.

The waitress moves on, depositing various bottles of beer on neighboring tables, then, in passing Yi, drops off a Coors Light. "Guy at the end of the bar," is all she says, adding a gesture in a direction, before moving on. Slightly above average looking build, but a face that's scarred by acne from years past and just starting to play with a receeding hairline. He's not anything special to look at, but seems relatively strong and healthy. Brown eyes, brown hair.

Hardly noticing James's assholeness, it seems that his date is perhaps used to it. Poor thing. Should have stayed in school. She stops playing with his hair and simply folds her arms over the table, leaning forward some, putting on a dour expression upon her face, one that reads: Help me.

Yi peers at the Coors Light, picking it up and then gazing in the direction of the 'guy at the end of the bar'. Great. We have visual, and it doesn't look too pretty. Screwing up that courage though, and putting on a fairly disinterested expression, she sniffs the Coors before taking a sip and heading towards the bar. Deliberately, she passes by Jamethon and Alicia's table. The Gnawer takes up a spot a few seats away from the man who treated, and nurses the bottle in her hands.

The mid-twenties looking guy at the end of the bar offers Yi a wide smile. At least he has all his teeth and they're relatively white. He moves a seat closer to Yi and attempts to suavely strike up a conversation. "So what sign are you?"

Oh Heavens. Yi covers her initial, biting remark with a sip of the oh-so-generously offered beer. "You're a smart one. Guess," she answers enigmatically, turning her head slightly to regard the man at a close up state. A slightly playful smirk at the edges of her lips shows the mock interest she holds for him.

Jamethon pages to the room: That pickup line hurt my unborn children.

You paged the room with 'Your unborn children? What about my physical being?'.

Jamethon pages to the room: I am Jack's twitching brain. :)

The guy at the bar makes a show of thinking about it. "Scorpio, I'd say. Close?" He drags his beer closer and takes a swig from it.

"Oh, very," Yi replies with a small exhale. "So, where are you from?" She glances down at the guy's uniform, checking for some name tag and rank. Maybe a weapon. She turns halfway on her barstool, more to have a better view of what's going on elsewhere in the bar than to really face the guy. Nevertheless, she keeps that faint half-smile, half-smirk on her not quite amused face.

Alicia yawns and reaches back to give James a squeeze of the hand, then a slight shake of the head, frowning to herself. She turns to look into his eyes, wrinkling her nose.

Jamethon eyes the woman with him for a moment, reaching out to grab her beer from her lightly clasping hand. Taking the drink for himself, he throws back the remander of her drink and belches loudly. Slamming the glass back on the table he stands throwing crumpled bills from his jacket that should cover a bit more then the bill, grabs at Alicia's arm in a rough manner, and heads for the door.

Alicia stumbles to her feet and knocks over a chair as she gets dragged, quickly shuffling her feet forward to reach his side, wincing some at his hard grasp.

Alicia casts a desperate look towards the Asian as she squints her eyes some, gasping at another jerk and she goes stumbling, nearly tripping over her boots in the process.

Alicia pages: MindSpeak: Nothing is here. James wants to roll out asap. Full moon.

"Wisconsin," the guy says. He's apparently a corporal in the Army. Johnson. "Had to escape the family dairy farm. You know that there's sometimes blood that gets in the milk? Gets mixed right in." Sadly, this tale probably worked for him once before and now he uses it regularly.

Casting a short look out towards the thug and his girl leaving, Yi connects eyes with Alicia and turns back to the Corporal. "Maybe it's good for the bones, yeah?" Gah, leave her here why don't you? She's going to snap at that Get later. "So what is it like, working here? It must be pretty tough." She says so in a manner that implies the man she's talking to is kind of tough too. "Anything... interesting happening?"

"It's not bad. Boring at times just riding around with people in a jeep. But," he adds, "you've got to pay attention and not go joyriding into a bad area. Otherwise, you end up glowing in the dark and giving birth to mutant babies." He then thinks to amend that last statement. "Not that I've ever taken a wrong turn or anything like that. So where are you from and what do you do?"

From afar, to the room, Jamethon and Alicia are going to walk down the street as quickly as we can without running, before the talen runs out of juice. See if I can get a bead on something.

Yi nods once, apparently a little turned off by the idea of giving birth to mutant babies. And glowing in the dark like a lava lamp wouldn't be good for scouting. "Just wandering from town to town," she replies. "I, ah-" Think, Yi, Think! "Do research." Pretty neutral statement right? Another glance out the door. This is going nowhere. "Hey, I have to go and get back to my job, but." She takes out a pen from one of her pockets and offers it to the guy, along with a napkin. "Write down your number." This is strange perhaps. But the way she looks at him, maybe she's interested?

The guy takes the pen and paper and scribbles down a name and number. "Like a social worker kind of thing?" He hands the slip of paper back to you. Dick Johnson. His parents must have really hated him.

Sweeping up the napkin, Yi shrugs. "You could say that. Human relations." She folds it up and sticks it in her pocket. "I'll see you around... Dick. Thanks for the beer." The Gnawer smiles benignly, and slips off the stool to head towards the door and out of the bar. Halfway, she turns around to give the poor farmboy a last glance. Then she's outta there as fast as polite-walking can carry her. Out out out out. Repeat as mantra.

Yi heads out of the bar and with a sigh of relief, picks out the paper in her pocket and makes sure she has it. There's a short realization that she left the pen with Corp. Johnson. Shaking her head, the Gnawer decides it to be a casualty of the dating war and looks about for Jamethon and Alicia. If she doesn't spot them, she too heads back towards the hotel.

Tskilegwa pages: It takes about a block of travel before you can even start to feel a difference, which seems to indicate that there's nothing nearby. After traveling in the four cardinal directions, you figure out that south seems to be the path into darkness. | Then the talen sputtered out.