Fungal Fomori
2/4/2006
05:16 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.
Currently the moon is in the waxing Half Moon phase (43% full).
It is currently 17:08 Pacific Time on Sat Feb 4 2006.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 42 degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southwest at 15 mph, with gusts up to 22 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.00 and rising, and the relative humidity is 72 percent. The dewpoint is 34 degrees Fahrenheit (1 degrees Celsius.)
East Bridge Street
The power plant to the south, chain-link fence delineating it sharply from the street, takes up two blocks, from Fourth to Second. Across the street, and down along Second and to First, are tenements, small bars, and the occasional slightly-better-maintained building. Teenagers give older, grim-looking men and women nowhere near enough space for respect, jostling them and sometimes knocking them down while brushing arrogantly by. Trash in the gutters and along the sidewalks is a glum reminder, with the filth spewed from the power plant itself and the factories beyond to the south, of the poverty of the area and the lack of care given to this section of the city. The occasional shot rings out, down the street or in the tiny, darkened alleys burrowing between buildings.
Contents:
Dillen
Grey
Red
Obvious exits:
Graffiti-Covered Tenement McAffee Court Harbor PArk Holland Place Charlie's Tavern Alley Washington Warehouse WHarf St. Claire Power And Light East South North West
[look Graffiti-Covered Tenement]
This five-story apartment building is run-down, and it's probably been years since it was rented out and lived in. It has not, however, been abandoned; both front and back doors are securely locked against casual intrusion, and notices on both inform potential trespassers that this is a privately owned property, stay out. Graffiti covers the discolored brickwork. The front door is level with the sidewalk.
It's rather chilly outside tonight, barely misting enough to remind people in which rather wet state they live. There's a few people out, mostly hookers and other unsavoury characters, and every now and again a few rough looking teens cruise on by in their civics blaring out music. In all, it seems to be a /quite/ night thus far: After all, no one's done any shooting yet. However, in south town, it'd be a small miracle if this holds for the night.
Yi chills out in front of the apartment complex she claims a space in. Slipped between her lips, a slightly bent cigarette, unlit. Her hand plays with a lighter as if in debate of whether to roast the end of the coffinnail, or simply idle there. Despite the lazy eye being cast over the street, she is in fact paying attention to its ebb and flow.
Dillen is going down the street scouting out where a place is that Yi asked him to help out with. He wanders along, checking the names on businesses and shaking his head. "Does the wet ever freakin stop?" Dillen asks as he comes upon Yi. "Where is the pizza place again?" He asks the Gnawer.
Grey comes into view as he makes his way down the street, one arm curled around a paper grocery bag with the top folded over. A cigarette hangs off his mouth which is, as usual, shaped into a frown.
Yi looks up and over as Dillen comes up. "It does," she answers. "Those are the times to appreciate Sun." She pushes up to her feet, brushing off the back of her pants. "Garcia's is north from here. That way," she indicates with a nod of her head. "It is not far from the park." Her lighter clicks closed, and it's followed with a scan down the sidewalk. A scan that happens to include Grey in the view. The Gnawer makes no effort to greet him, save a tight-lipped expression of recognition.
"Ah. Cool." As Dillen starts to move off towards the pizza place. The glance from Yi makes him turn around and look in that direction. Then he turns back to Yi and chuckles, "Problems?"
Grey notices the pair as he gets closer. His jaw tightens as he catches Yi's look, but he keeps walking regardless. His intended path will take him right past the pair, and damned if he's going to cross the street just to avoid the Gnawer's frown.
Yi isn't frowning so much as tensed in a wary caution the closer he gets. "There is no problem," she utters back to Dillen in a reply. When Grey gets close enough to hear, she dips her head lightly (though her eyes don't go with the motion) to him. "Good evening, Grey." For just a second, she looks to the bag in the Walker's arms, evaluating it for possible contents.
[Grey pages: Well, no leaking liquid or grease stains. Otherwise, who knows?]
Dillen basically just stands there in the awkwardness of the moment. "Nice weather... Huh?"
"Yi, Dillen." Grey slows to a halt as he comes within conversational distance. He gives Dillen a glance, and then shrugs slightly, the paper bag under his arm rustling with the movement. "Feeling better?"
Yi seems to miss where the question is directed to, but remains silent with a bit of prudence. She looks away from the both of them, back towards the street, and plucks the unlit cigarette out from between her lips. It gets slipped back into her coat, tucked into a pocket somewhere. The only sound that notes her involvement in the conversation is a quiet 'mm'.
"Yeah. I am. Just was a shitty thing, ya know?" Dillen shrugs and looks at the paper bag. "You gonna join Havoc?" Which is directed at Grey. Small talk, oh what fun.
"If Vex will have me," says the Glass Walker, shifting the bag to his other arm. "If so, perhaps you can pick up Gunnar." His mouth thins. "Apparantly, he's told Emma that he'll leave if I join."
A man leaves a flat from across the street, shouting behind him something to the effect of `Go fuck yourself`. The man in a black hoodie pays no attention to the near by hookers, or the people on the other side of the street, cursing loudly as he flings a lighter at the ground. Digging through his pocket, he finally finds some matches and lights up a cigarette as a gaudy Honda Accord drives by. The two hookers, looking positively freezing in their barely covering clothes, look to the man and head off to the corner as the thudding music from the Car echoes.
[Red pages: As the guy lights up, Yi breifly catches a glimps of his face: It's got putrid green, weeping sores.
Red pages: When the match is out, though, can't see a darn thing. She might question whether she just saw that. It was kinda far.]
Yi tightens up at the talk of packs, and redirects her attention elsewhere. That sweeps her eyes out over the street, attracted to loud, angry shouting. The man in the hoodie is glanced at idly, but whatever the reason, the Gnawer suddenly does indeed frown. Muttering something to herself in a foreign tongue, she blinks a couple of times, she rubs her eyes.
Dillen shakes his head as the ruckus blows out from behind him. He shakes his head and sighs. "If some people only knew..." The foreign language gets a raised brow from Yi. "What was that?"
Grey glances down at Yi, then across the street at the source of the disturbance.
Puffing idly, the guy in the hoodie doesn't notice the sudden attention right away.
Yi stops rubbing at her eye and glances back to Dillen. "My eyes must be playing tricks on me," she says with a bit of an annoyed pitch to her tone, "because I thought I saw that man's face, and it had ..." She tries to think of the word, "Sores. Very sick." It's said with unsure feeling, and a shake of her head.
"Sores?" Dillen looks back towards the man, trying to catch his face. "Like sores that are chicken pox or something?" He moves to lean against the wall of the building so he can look across the street.
The man seems to finally notice the attention, and the hand that's not holding a cigarette lifts to flip Dillen and Grey off. He turns around to head back into his building, flicking the not-estinguished cigarette away as he goes inside the apartment building.
Grey's eye shifts from the man to the Gnawer. His frown deepens as he looks back again, keeping an ear for Yi's answer.
Yi shakes her head again. "Not like that. Like, here, and here," she indicates with her hand. "Green ones. I think." When the man flips off the pair, she frowns. Abruptly, the ragabash steps a pace into the street to yell out at the offender. "Fuck you too!"
"Green. That's not right." Dillen watches the man and frowns. "Think we should check it out?" Then Yi steps out. "Or if we get lucky he will come over and introduce himself."
"I doubt that," says Grey. He clearly wants to go after the man and investigate, but reins himself in and -- a bit reluctantly perhaps -- looks toward Yi, the Fostern.
Yi takes a moment to recompose herself, showing just that bit more residual nastiness from lack of sleep and inhibition. "Stupid people have no respect for one another," she grumbles just loud enough for the two others to hear, either missing or embracing the hypocrisy in that statement.
Nope, no such luck: The man doesn't re-emerge from the the building.
Dillen shrugs. "It's in the genes. You two don't think that is something we should check out? I mean, a guy with green sores?"
Grey's mouth twitches irritably, at Yi or Dillen or perhaps a bit of both. "Of course we should check it out," he says to the Get, bending down to set the paper bag in the shadow of the building Yi was lurking in front of. It'll probably be gone by the time he gets back, but such is life. He takes the cigarette from his lips and flicks ash onto the cracked sidewalk. And then he gives Yi another expectant look, this one rather harder than the first.
Yi looks back and forth between the two. It's Grey's setting down of his bag beside the building that seems to motivate her just a little more. "Fine," she agrees, starting off down the sidewalk towards the same apartment building. "It was rude of him anyway, so he should apologize..." All the justification in the world won't be able to cover up the fact that Yi is just wanting to slug something tonight.
"Okay." As Dillen pops off the wall. Perhaps he is just looking for a fight as well. He begins to walk across the street, ambling as it were. Waiting for the other two to come along.
Another Civic, this one with a spoiler that makes it look like they'll be trying for the land speed record later this week, cruises down the street slowly and comes to a stop at the corner with the street walkers.
Grey falls into step on Yi's other side, cigarette hanging off his lip. As he heads across the street with the others, the Walker glances over toward the hookers and their newest John.
Yi spares a cursory glance over towards the rice rocket, eyes narrowed but not particularly interested. And up to the apartment building she goes, looking over the tenement with a new gleam in her eye. The Gnawer tries the door, to follow the rude hooded man indoors with little look back at the others.
Dillen rubs a hand through his hair and looks back towards the Honda with the hookers. His attention goes back to the door as Yi knocks.
She doesn't even need buzzed in. Yi finds the front door unlocked, letting her into the short hall without any assurance that she's a resident. Pretty typical; the area isn't exactly the Ritz. Four doors line either side of the hall, two on either side, it ends with a staircase going up to the next floor of the four floor, rickety building.
Grey is the last of trio into the building. He takes in the appearance of the front hallway, mouth tight around the cigarette.
Yi enters like she is a resident. The unimpressive conditions don't seem to affect her, as she makes her way down the hall. "Well, he should be in here," she says, turning to the other two. "Pick a floor."
Dillen follows along. "How about the one he is on?" Dillen says with a smirk as he looks about. "Just stick together. No clue what's around this shit hole."
Grey huffs out a breath of air and smoke and takes the cigarette from his mouth. He gives the younger Garou a sour look. "You propose knocking on doors randomly?"
"No," Yi replies evenly, combing a hand into her hair and dropping it back to her side. "Just use your eyes, and your ear." The Gnawer starts down the hall, looking for stairs or a door that might lead basement-wards.
Dillen gives Grey a look. "No. But we can at least look in the ones that are cracked." He nods after what Yi says and moves down the hallway after her.
Grey shakes his head. He gives the hall another, closer look around, but apparently sees nothing clue-like, so follows after Yi and Dillen.
Nope. No obvious basement. Just rooms 11 through 14, and stairs going up.
Like strolling through a park. The Gnawer pauses, listens, and moves on. Up the stairs to the next floor she goes, trailing behind her the pair. "This seems a little impossible, does it not?" she questions back as they go along.
"We could split up. But I don't see that as wise." Dillen has his hands shoved into his pockets. "Or should we start asking about to see if anybody has seen something strange? Like on the next floor?"
Grey grunts. "They can't all drip puddles of slime." He stops before going up the stairs, though, sniffs, and wrinkles his nose. "Yi. Dillen. Do you smell that?"
Yi's question mark is audible as she stops and turns to look at the Walker. The question from the philodox elicits her own sniff-sniffing. "Smell what?"
[Red pages: Maybe Grey's taken leave of his senses. You don't smell anything.]
Dillen takes a deep breath. "Not a whiff." He shrugs and shakes his head as he takes a look at the bottoms of his shoes.
Grey sniffs again and moves away from the stairs, down the hall, grimacing. He stops about halfway between the two right-hand doors. "That."
Yi furrows her brow, expressing obvious lack of understanding to what the philodox is referring to. She instead follows him, to the spot he stands at. And she sniffs again.
Dillen stands back, not wanting to look like a fool and sniff a spot that smells. He looks around at the other doors, peeking in any cracked ones.
[Red pages: Ew. Dirty laundry smell. Lots of it. Like someone hasn't taken out the trash in forever.]
Not a cracked door to be seen. Unsurprising: Most people like their privacy.
Grey glances over at the others, and seeing their lack of comprehension, grimaces again and then turns away, looking irritable. Nose still wrinkled, he picks one of the right hand doors and tries to open it.
The knob just wiggles. The door's locked.
Grey grunts and tries the other one.
Yi makes a face once she's caught a whiff of something. A curse utters forth as she steps back. "That is," she starts to say, and then shakes her head. A glance goes to Grey as he tries the knob, and then the ragabash looks to the other door on the other side of the spot.
Dillen just stands back. "You smell it?" Dillen questions.
The other door is also locked. Which, all things considered, is a pretty smart thing to do, living in such a nasty part of town, at night.
[Red pages to Grey and Yi: The door furthest to the end, the one Grey tried first, seems to have TV going. Quite loudly, in fact.]
Grey remains irritated but unsurprised, this is true. Stepping back from the doors, he looks over at Yi. "How are you at opening locks?"
Yi pushes a sleeve up in answer. "As good as Gaia will let me be." Her eyes divert momentarily to the sound coming forth from the other door, and she looks back to the Walker. "Which one?" She motions to Dillen, indicating the spot. "I smell -that-."
Dillen runs a hand through his hair. "Or you two can step away and I can be a punk ass kid." Dillen looks between the two and acts like he's knocking on the door.
Grey, in reply to Yi's question about which door, nods at the first one he tried to open. As for Dillen's suggestion, he considers it, but again looks toward the Fostern. Rank hath its privileges. And its responsibilities.
"I rather you do not act like a kid, and more like the adult you should be," Yi says quietly as her reply, moving to the first door. She cocks her head to listen to the sound of the TV going, and then gestures to the Get. "Knock."
Dillen bows his head to the Fostern. "I plan to be. But he's gonna see me like a kid." He steps up and delivers a few rapid knocks to the door that Yi was listening to.
Grey folds his arms across his chest and scowls at the door in question.
It takes a few moments, some barely heard discussion occurring inside after the knock. Finally, the chain is removed, followed by the bolt, before the door is swung open. A large, incredibly obese man stands tall in the opening, wearing nothing but a pair of rather worn coveralls, and his brow moist with sweat. Now, even Dillen can smell the 'I don't believe in taking out trash' smell, and the hockey game comes in loud and clear. His pudgy brow presses together, the balding man looking at Dillen dubiously. "You... aren't the pizza guy..."
Dillen winces slightly at the smell that assails him. "Nah, man. Was lookin for a guy that I owe some cash from a craps game." Then Dillen goes about describing the guy, minus the green sores. "You seen him? I owe him a twenty. Like to pay my debts."
Yi presses down her urge to lash out, and draws herself up. Her eyes travel towards Grey down the hall, and then to the other door. Wordlessly, she moves on like she weren't a part of the conversation between Dillen and the fatman.
Grey takes his scowl and his cigarette over toward Yi. Cigarette smoke is never a pleasant smell, but it's better than what's coming out of that apartment.
The fat man's face lifts into a scowl, the door suddenly getting slammed in Dillen's face.
Dillen shrugs. "Had to say something." As he turns and looks at Yi and Grey and waits for them to curse at him. "Next?"
"He's expecting trouble." Grey gives his opinion flatly. "Did you see anything?"
Yi does a little start with the slammed door. "Smells like Fat Man's trash," she says after another significant pause. "One more time," she considers aloud.
Dillen shakes his head. "Nope. Fat guy took up all the room." He shrugs and steps over to the other door. "Here? Or what?" He looks to Yi for direction.
Grey looks to Yi as well, one eyebrow raised.
Yi sucks on a tooth, eyeing the door to the fat guy's place. "Grey," she starts to say, a heavy amount of askance in just that utterance. "We -do- need to know where this man is. I think we should -ask- Him, again. Would you?" She nods towards the furthest door. She in turn goes to the other locked door, and puts her hand on the knob. To Dillen, her cue indicates he go with her, and she places him in position on the other side of the door she has a handle on.
Dillen sort of rolls his eyes but steps up with Yi at the other door. He motions to the door. "Go ahead." As he looks to Yi. "But wasn't the smell what brought us to these doors?
Grey nods curtly to the Bone Gnawer. Cigarette jutting upwards from his mouth, he stalks toward the door that Dillen just knocked on and hammers on it with his fist. That's not a knock; that's /authority/.
The lock strains for a moment before clicking open. The gift is hard pressed to work in this part of town...
It's a few moments before the door is answered, this time the door not opening any further than the length of the chain. The half naked obese man peers out the crack. "Wuddya wan'?" The balding man grunts.
Grey has experience in dealing with reluctance. One booted foot jams itself into the gap of the door as soon as it's open enough, and one hand's already pulling a thin wallet-like object out of his coat and flashing it open with a practiced gesture to display a very official looking badge of some kind. "Lo Reclamation," he says, meeting the fat man's eyes coldly. "You're three months behind, sir."
"In," Yi says to the Get quietly once her eyes open up. She turns the knob slowly, and then pushes the entry way open for herself and the galliard. She spares a last glance to Grey before stepping into the other room.
Dillen follows in with the Gnawer. His eyes quickly take in the place, making sure to see if anyone is in his sight and where the rooms are.
If he was sweating before, the balding man is positively pouring now. His pudgy brow lifts, a meaty hand raising to cover his mouth as he coughs. "No no no. Brian's been pay'n. Paid just last week, uh'swear." He stammers.
The other apartment is pitch black, nobody home. What little light that filters through filters comes through the barred windows. The fridge hums away in the corner of the combination living room and kitchen. The microwave at the end of the counters to the right proudly proclaim the time; the wall opposite the door has two widely spaced doors, and a small one wedged between. None of the stink from the other place wafts through here.
Grey flicks the badge holder closed and makes it disappear. His foot's still jammed in the doorway. "Our records say that he hasn't." No sympathy, none at all. "Can you settle the bill?"
Yi sniffs some more, making a face in the dark as she gropes for a light switch. "Smell anything?" she asks Dillen, just for confirmation.
Dillen shakes his head, "Nope. My money would be on the trash man." As he heads for the door.
The man nods his head all too quickly, whiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "Suresure." He answers back, head nodding over and over again. "Um... Brian!" A deep voice answers over the TV. "Huh?" "Guy here says we didn' pay. "Bullshit! I paid last week!"
Grey takes a pull off his cigarette, exhaling smoke at the fat man's face. Foot still in the door. Whatever "Brian" says, the scarred man's not going anywhere.
Yi silently agrees, heading out of the apartment. Not without one last look around though, and then she turns off any lights she touched, locks the knob and closes the door behind her to the other apartment. Her eyes flick over towards the Walker philo, and a faint smirk comes over her features. Gotta admire a man's good work.
Dillen just turns and leans against the wall, waiting.
He coughs as Grey blows smoke into it, a hollow sounding cough as the half naked man turns back and starts to waddle away from the door. "Well 'es say'n ya didn', dipshit." He calls back. Someone, wearing shoes, walks across the flat, "'ll fix it 'morrow."
"Sorry, sir," says Grey, sounding not at all sorry. "You need to fix this now."
Yi joins Dillen in position, watching Grey carefully. She moves to a spot where she can see through the crack of the door, however much that might get her.
Someone stomps over to the door, pausing a second before appearing shoulder first at the door. It's the sweatshirt man, a guy in his late thirties, looking like he's got weeping sores all over his face. There's something smeared all over the sweatshirt. "Fuck you buddy. I get a warning first. I know how it works."
"That's not my problem, sir," says Grey. A distainful note creeps into his voice, and his eye can't help but track the man's blemishes and the stuff on his shirt. "Pay up, or let me in so that I can collect, and then we can all go back to enjoying our evening." His gaze flicks back up and fixes on the man's eyes.
Dillen looks at the man, pondering what to do next. He looks to Yi for any suggestions.
Yi's eyes darken over at the sight of the man. When she sees Dillen looking to her, she shakes her head just a little. The ragabash then resumes her post, waiting and watching.
This guy's not phased, not even for a moment. He raises his fist, flipping Grey off yet again. "Fuck off. I get a fucking warning."
[Red pages to Grey and Yi: There are welts on the back of his hand. Putrid green welts.]
Grey's lip curls, wrinkling up and displaying some very white teeth. His eyes bore into the other man's. "As far as I'm concerned," he says thickly, almost a growl, "you /got/ your fucking warning. Pay up, or open the goddamn door."
Yi looks up and down the hallway, and then nods to herself. "Grey, make it quick and clean," Yi says clearly, head jerking for Dillen to follow in second. "Take the Fat Man. And, try not to scratch the furniture."
"Yeah, you just fucking try it you sissy prick cock sucker." He bites back, pulling the door closed on Grey's foot. The boots, however, are more than a match for Brian's trouble.
The Glass Walker's grimace intensifies. Without further warning, his hand shoots out through the gap made by the partly-open but still chained door.
Dillen moves up close and behind Grey, still leaving the man room to back up if needed. He is still close enough to charge in if he has to so he reaches for the door as well to keep it from being banged on Grey's hand.
Yi slips a hand into her pocket, drawing out a switchblade from it and clicking it open with a snap. She goes in last, leaving the two 'muscles' to it.
Brian's just a little too far back to for Grey to Grab him, almost falling over backwards as he leans away from the Repo man. The fat man, Jake, seems to have returned with a Lug wrench for fixing cars. It's swung at the protruding arm with gusto. "I get' 'em, Brain!"
There's the sound of furniture being moved around inside, barely audible over the TV.
Grey snarls out a word in Serbian as the wrench strikes and yanks his arm back. He's pissed, now, and takes a step back to center himself before slamming a foot out at the door. When sweet words fail, use force.
With his hand in the door Dillen tries to use the moment of surprise to open the door before Grey has to kick it open. Hopefully, he can get it open enough for the three to be able to see what is going on inside.
Yi takes a step back so as not to crowd the pair at the door. Knife held ready, she's still primed to launch inwards. A quick glance goes out to the hallway they're in, spotting for people.
"Watch my fucking door!" Someone's not happy. "Mike, call the cops!" Dillen can't get the chain off, with the door open far enough for him to get his hand in. Jake takes the lug wrench to Dillen's hand also, the sweaty man now profusely so. The door jars with Grey's boot to the centre, but it's sturdy enough that it's holding for now.
Grey's teeth are bared in a rictus grimace. He centers himself again and aims another solid boot-slam on the door. One might well suspect that the tall Glass Walker has experience in kicking down doors. Hm.
"Fuck!" Dillen lets out a curse as the wrench clangs over his hand. He jerks it back with a reaction to the pain. He gives a grunt and something clicks, sending the pain away. His look at Grey, waiting for the door to go.
Yi tenses, grip tightening on the blade handle. "Faster, faster," she mutters, "Just -Go-. Nearman. There's no one."
The door jars again, the whole thing bending slightly as he pounds again. Some voices on the inside raise over the TV. There's more than two people, and all of them getting decidedly animated.
Grey, as he recenters himself from the second kick, half turns to look over his shoulder at Yi, eyes narrowed. He looks at her for just a second and then nods once, curtly. Turning back to the door, he gathers himself and expands upward into Glabro form. And again the boot slams against the door, this time with an extra oomph of physical power behind it.
Dillen moves over and gets next to Grey. He lines up his kick for right after Grey's, same spot. Two are surely better than one. As if a Glabro foot wouldn't suffice. At least he's close for when it goes.
Yi reaches down into another pocket at the voices, drawing out a second knife, a butterfly. It clinks open with a quick flick of her wrist.
Dillen doesn't get a chance to kick, Grey's kick sending the door slamming open and Jake, the fat man with a lug iron, standing in the front of the door brandishing the Lug Iron like a club. The apartment is filthy, boxes and bags of trash strewn everywhere in the mildew-stinking place. A man stands by the couch in the living room, a loud hockey game blaring on the battered looking 'tube. There's a takeout bag from some Mexican joint, and a half eaten pizza on the table behind them. The guy in the hoodie, is apparently putting in the police call, as he's on the phone. The man standing by the couch looks like he auditioned for part of 'Jaws' in the James Bond movie, a massive hulking man in a fake leather jacket. Standing by Brian as he makes his call is Mike, a man with similar weeping sores who's wearing a red and white Redwings jersey. The three inside all face out as the door is kicked open.
Without hesitation, Grey barrels into the apartment and toward the guy in the hoodie. Inner fire fuels his movements as he charges the man.
Dillen swells up to crinos as well, heading right for Jaws, and aiming a tackle right for the guys midsection.
Being the last in, Yi remains in homid. Her eyes look for the wrench-wielding Jake, most concerned about that huge blunt object coming down after her as she swells up herself to the Glabro form.
Dillen's shift has one immediate effect. The fat man's face drops, and he starts screaming like a 50's TV sitcom wife who's just discovered a rat. "OH MY GOD!" He shreaks highpitched. The man Grey slams into sounds like he wretches as he's hit, the phone clattering to the ground. The sores burst, light green puss splattering all about. Mike in the jersey, reaches down to try and haul Grey off of Brian unsuccessfully. Dillen launches across the room towards jaws, managing to clear the back of the couch as he tackles the man into the TV, which falls over backwards.
"Fucking mother of--" Grey's Glabro baritone drops another octave as he explodes upward into Crinos form, the human language vanishing in a bubbling snarl of lycanthropic anger and pain. That stuff must /hurt/. His claws slash out at the hoodie-man's pus-filled head. Hopefully, that will hurt /more/.
Dillen just starts to slash and pound at the big man, a barrage of punches and swipes to keep the Jaws man down.
Yi flips her butterfly knife back to a closed position and lunges for the wrench-wielding, now-screaming Jake. Adjusting on impulse, she aims straight for the man's throat with one of her meaty fists, leveled to punch in his adam's apple - and whatever else is in the way of that windpipe. While she's busy with Jake, she doesn't yet notice the other two shifting beyond the Glabro.
The man's head explodes in a spray of puss and gore, green stuff splattering further on the Walker, it now sizzling as it hits his skin. The man on his back suddenly finds himself no longer on Grey's back; he screams at the sight of the crinos, and begins pummel it ineffectively. Jake blubbers ineffectively as he sees the Crinos, a sudden, horrific stench hitting the room like he just dropped the contents of his intestines, and it was taco bell he was eating before hand. Yi's blade gets buried in his bulbous collar, and it's not quite clear if she hit anything other than fat and bone. Jaw's suddenly lives up to another movie character's fame, when he opens his mouth, teeth distending like the sea predator of the same name. The teeth bite down on Dillen's flesh, but the Galliard clearly won't have any of that. When Dillen shifts to crinos, the punch shatters the man's bones, fetid smelling meat leaking out as the former giant smashes into the TV once more. The smell of ozone wafts with the foul smell from Jake, as the TV tube out across the dead man.
From behind them, in the hall, comes another high pitched scream. Some old lady from across he hall stands in the middle, and the crinoses has reduced her to a gibbering wreck.
[Red pages to the room: The fetid smell makes it hard to not to gag. That said, I have all my pages out of the way.]
His chest covered in burning green pus and embedded with several bony spikes, Grey snarls and pulls away from the dead fomor, moving away from the corpse and the man beating upon his back. Ears flat with pain, the Glass Walker hunkers down and focuses inward, willing himself not to feel his hurts.
Bloods-Bane shakes his head to get rid of the smell and launches himself at the man on Grey's back, a move to slam the man to the ground and under his bulk. The screaming woman is just hoped that she counts this as a bad dream.
Yi grimaces at the smells even to her duller senses, jerking her fist out from the man's throat. At the scream from in the hall, she glares and acts quickly. Her hands reach down for the wrench in Jake's hands to yank it from him before she brings it down right on his head in a blurry swing.
The Blow to the head staggers the fat man, lurching towards Yi and puking a putrid yellow stomach contents all over her. The wrench has left him stunned, totally unable to do anything as he slides down floorward. Mike, the guy in the Jersey that was on Grey's back, smashes flat against the floor when Dillen slams into him. Puss splatters all over, sizzling as it lands on the numb Get's fur. The Formor opens his mouth, revealing similarly deformed teeth. Gangled and pointing at odd angles, he bites down on Dillen's arm.
Meanwhile, the lady in the hall has descended from screaming to curling in a foetal ball and repeating 'oh my god oh my god oh my god.'
Grey, the pain of his wounds now a distant, intellectual thing, swings himself around to take in Bloods-Bane's struggle with Mike. Moving around behind the fomor, he reaches massive, clawed hands for the fomor's neck.
Bloods-Bane begins again to slash and pummel at the man below him, wanting the guys head to be pudding. And also, as he punches, he grabs the guys jaw, wanting some teeth for a collection.
Yi backs up when the splatter of vomit hits her full on, coughing and dry-retching, eyes watering. She glares down at the stunned man and levels one more swing of the wrench at Jake's fat head, this time without mercy.
Gore splatters all over as Grey and Dillen finish the Fomor off, more puss splattering all over both of them. As Grey rips out the neck, blood soaks his handpaw, but is spared from the most of it. Dillen, however, as he rips the guy's jaw off, gets spattered with significantly more, burning his chest and face. As Grey pulls his arm back, it feels oddly light; it seems his handpaw didn't return with the arm, having been burned to the point it fell off. Fat Jake's head cracks, the lug iron leaving the fat man's brain leaking out: None of them are experts in anatomy, but brain typically isn't black, gelatinous and fungal smelling.
That's the problem with this particular Gift; there's a reason that Gaia made it so that Her creatures would feel pain. It takes Grey a few moments to notice that he's missing a hand; he does so after sweeping an eye across the room to see if there are any more fomor still walking. When he does realize, he curses in gutteral, vulgar Mother's Tongue.
Bloods-Bane lets out a growl as he sees the damage to Grey's hand. Quickly, he puts two and two together and bolts for the doors in the back, looking for a shower to jump into. ~Grey. Shower.~ He growls out.
The lady remains out in the hall, huddled in a ball. But she isn't babbling anymore.
Yi just coughs more, trying her damnednest not to breathe too hard. Her eyes sweep over the room as well, taking everything in. When it gets to the phone, the ragabash stalks over, setting the wrench against her leg and lifts the receiver to her ear.
[Red pages: ... Hello? Hello? Anyone there?... [From the phone.]]
Grey shifts downward into a jaw-tight Glabro. "Did he get through to the police?" he asks Yi in a rumbling baritone. His eye's directed toward the floor nearby; upon spotting his disembodied appendage -- now reverted to a burned, pathetic-looking human shape -- he grimaces and bends to pick it up.
Yi jerks a finger up to her lips when Grey asks, and very reluctantly shifts down to her birthform. Clearing her throat, she adopts a 'normal' tone of voice. "Hahaha, just a practical joke, ma'am. Everything is fine here. We partied a little too hard," she says into the receiver. "Everything is fine, yes."
Bloods-Bane takes a deep breath and manages to believe that the 'stuff' isn't doing it's worse. He looks to Yi and the phone, and then around the room to find something to wipe himself off before shifting back ot human. "I am sure that fucking hurt." As he looks about the room. "What now?" To Yi once she hangs up. "They will probably still send someone out.
[From afar, Red | The operator is overtly suspicious. "Where's the last guy? What was all that noise?"]
Grey says nothing, his gaze intent on Yi as he waits for her to finish with the phone.
Yi continues on, into the phone. "Oh, that was the TV! And the other guy... Brian - changing his pants," she replies quickly, "I think we surprised him a little too much, hahaha." She laughs, maybe not quite as natural as it ought to be but one that comes easily as she forces humor into the situation. She gestures for the other two to join her in a few chuckles, or something. Anything.
[From afar, Red | `I've sent a car by, just to check in.` He responds, unconvinced.]
Bloods-Bane breaks into a broken fit of laughter, all the while looking at Yi.
Grey looks like he's probably forgotten how to laugh, but he does offer up an irritable sounding, "Get off the damn phone so we can order the fucking pizza." His eye goes to the broken door.
"Oh, OK then," Yi says with a very forced cheerfulness, finally ditching that smile and indicating with her fingers for them to start moving. "Thanks. Good bye." Then, the ragabash hangs up the phone. "Bloody fucking, Move. Get out of here, try not to leave a trail. -They- are coming."
Dillen lifts a hand to his face and looks about for anything that would lead the cops to them. "Just need to get the hell out." As he heads for the door. "Split up as soon as we are outside?" The questions to Yi.
"Sranje," Grey rasps, dropping the rest of the way into human form. None of them look particularly pleasant, what with the pus and blood and vomit and burns. He looks at the hand in his hand and, mouth twitching, tucks both into his left coat pocket. The other arm is held close to his chest, tucked into his coat like Napoleon. A /tall/ Napoleon. "And do you mind calling Alicia?" he adds, to Dillen's query.
"Alicia," Yi forces through gritted teeth, "Is Not Here. And we have no time, even if this part of the city is a death zone for the police..." She looks up. Ceilingwards. "Take the rooftop. Don't go through the front." She looks around quickly and then realizes. "I thought I heard a scream outside."
Dillen bolts for the door and up the stairs to the roof. He looks at the woman, covering his face with his coat. "Maybe her?" He looks to the others, "Delirium?" And he doesn't stop for long before he keeps heading for the roof.
Grey gives Yi a frowning look like he wants to ask her to clarify that bit about Alicia, but as the Gnawer says, there's no time. "Dillen," he rasps, "wait." He turns back to Yi, face hard. "The bodies. /Evidence/." And he gestures, jerking his chin, at the very inhuman corpses around them. At least two with heads missing.
Yi decides on the fly, looking at the faces. "I will do what I can. Take that one's head," she says with a point towards the snaggly toothed. "The sores could pass for filth." She looks towards the black-brained fat one. "Everything else... cannot be helped."
Grey's mouth twists; he doesn't look especially keen on this course of action. He bends to the Fostern's decision, though mutters, "Can't burn it. Too many innocents in the building." He addresses the Get of Fenris. "Dillen, would you? Should be bags in the kitchen." His voice is a rasp.
[Red pages: Ah ha. As Yi searches, she notices the stove is gas.]
Dillen just moves past the other two and pulls through the kitchen, finding the bags and then grabbing up the man's head, depositing it in two of them, one inside the other. "We gotta get outta here now." He says to the other two, "Trying to pull them out of the room. "I'll take care of the head." He wraps the top around his hand, holding on tight as he pushes past and to the stairs again.
Yi turns to Grey and snarls, "We keep the Veil at all costs." She spots the stove in the kitchen, and then gestures. "Get these bodies into the kitchen, then out of here."
Grey squints at her, jaw clenched. His head jerks to the side briefly, showing throat, and then he moves, teeth grinding as he obeys.
Yi holds up a hand quickly. "Wait. Do any of you have a car?" she asks, an eye going to the clock.
Dillen stops and turns back to look at Yi. "A motorcycle." He still holds the bag with the head in it. "We have no time. We need to get outta here. The police don't do shit about what happens down here. It's all gangs and the like. If you will excuse the way I speak, meaning no disrespect."
"Yes," says Grey, "and it has a trunk. But it's parked several blocks from here."
Yi shakes her head, and then nods. "Ok. I have a car, across the street. Pick up and move these bodies. Fire escape out next to the stairs, and we will load them into mine. Every one of these bodies has to go." She says this only, and rushes out the broken doorway.
Dillen pauses and looks at the retreating Yi. "Fuck me." As he goes back in and begins to shove two of the bodies into garbage bags. He shifts up to Crinos to break bones if he has to and only long enough to do so to get them into the double lined bags. Then a drag to the fire escape and tossed down.
Grey assists as much as he can with the lack of his dominant hand, no comment but grinding teeth. Once everything's taken care of, he wastes no time in vanishing into the city, with the farmhouse (and a healer, hopefully) his eventual destination.
Dillen breaks off from the other two once it's all done. He heads for the farmhouse as well once he realizes what happened when his gift was keeping the pain away.
Yi bolts across the street, taking care not to be seen by too many eyes. The Mystery Mobile, parked in a nearby alley, revs to life with much cursing and swearing on her part, and she driving the car as far into the alley as she can get it. The bodies are loaded, and after a few instructions she dismisses the other two. The ragabash goes back into the building to make sure of the old woman's crazed state, one last look, and then drives off into the night to dispose of the bodies in any manner possible. Yuck.
[Note: That puke wasn't normal. Yi gets hit with Fungal Touch, where basically your insides slowly turn to fungus and you look and feel really bad. Think mange. Putrid yellow-green mange. Then think of that both -inside- and outside your body. Yeah. Yuck!]
[Later on that evening, after lots of body chopping, squicking, showering, more squicking...]
Odeon - Lobby(#4049RJ)
The Odeon's lobby is testament to a faded and perverted glory. The deep crimson carpet is thick in places but in others stubbly as velveteen, and the rich pattern of tangling flowers is everywhere marred by dark stains. The walls are clothed in kingly purple tatters of wallpaper, and covered with faded posters featuring women and men in various states of undress, posing with various degrees of tastelessness, and screaming out titles like "Male Service", "Bang Bang: a Sexual Explosion", and "A Slip of Her Tongue" in garish lettering. There's no light in the room but what comes in from the street, and during the day the actresses look grey and ghoulish, and the bright reds and purples of the room faded and dusky; and at night, the place might as well be covered in thick black paint.
Immediately in front of the entrance is dull matte turnstyle which no longer turns, where once tickets were taken. To the right are a pair of doors which some joker has labelled "Pimps" and "Hos" with red spraypaint: these are the washrooms. To the left are a pair of doorways which lack actual doors, and opposite is a grand set of boarded doors which lead into the theatre proper.
Please check +view for further description.
Contents:
Olga(#4061PJceq)
Obvious exits:
Upstairs THeatre Street
Late in the middle of the night on Saturday, the Odeon's lobby thuds with the sound of shuffling footsteps and muttered Canton cursing. Yi bangs her leg against one of the turnstyles, causing just that much more vehement a swear to utter forth. The ragabash leans against a filthy wall, dressed in hastily donned sweats. Her hair is wet like it's been through a washing. A heavy washing.
The lobby is dimly lit by neon outside which creeps through the cracks in boarded windows and doors, lending everything, including the woman asleep before the theatre door, a faint pink squalor. Olga's sleep is deep and her snores are heavy, they rumble like an engine in need of tuning, and it's only at the second, fiercer string of profanity that they startle and stop, and the Theurge's eyes crease against the darkness and her hands go flat against the floor. "Yi?" she calls out, cautious and sleep-bleary. "That you?"
Yi busies herself with a rubbing of her leg. "No, it is the tooth fairy," she replies rather irritably, her voice sounding like it's had one too many cigarettes and not enough sleep. Slowly she makes her way further into the lobby, ditching the sarcasm and qualifying herself. "Yes, it is me."
Olga's quiet: the tone and the reply make her pause for a second before she scrapes to her feet with bleary haste to ask, concern in her voice, "You alright?"
Yi shakes her head, though it's nearly impossible to see her response in the dark. "No," she answers, all blunt honesty. "No, I am not ok." She groans, stretching out sore muscles. "There were some fomori. They have been taken care of," she starts to say, following it with a string of further curses and foreign damnations. "Grey and Dillen are worse off."
Olga moves jerkily forward in a sudden start, her half-finished quilt dropping from her square shoulders into her hand to be dragged behind her. "They alright?" she asks again, though there's less concern in her voice, more mothering practicality. She holds out the blanket uncertainly, like she's not sure if it'll be appreciated though she offers it anyway, and she says with a twitch of a grimace and a thick voice, "Y're soaked. C'm'on, let's sit you down. Where'd they get you?"
Yi reaches out a hand and takes the blanket, looking at it a moment before reaching up with her other and scratching along her throat. "Only because I washed off what I could," she explains. As she is about to say more, she turns her head to one side and coughs loudly, the snot-like phlegm quality in the sound, but retching dryly. The blanket is held away so she doesn't cough on it. "Bloody Wyrmspawn!" Her sitting down is more like crashing, as one leg crumples underneath her and she simply thuds weakly on the floor. "One of them... decided to lose his guts all over me." The itching continues.
"Yeah," Olga answers, sympathetic and awkward, not knowing how to express herself, "yeah, they, uh, they do that. It's, um-" she tries, but then breaks off, reaching with one thick awkward arm to Yi's shoulders, hanging it off them. "Anything still need doing?" she offers, taking it again to business, if only for the sake of ease.
Yi places a hand on the theurge's arm, squeezing lightly. "The bodies are taken care of," she rasps. "Grey and Dillen, finding healers at the farmhouse." She shifts her eyes over, and squints slightly. "I think I should..." Her words break off, paused there, and then continue, ".. find one myself."
After a couple seconds of resting there Olga's arm slowly, leerily rises, as the fuzzy, sick sensation of the Ragabash's skin at neck and shoulder creeps into her own senses. She keeps her hand down, tries to be uninsulting about it, but she's not too subtle. "Okay," she says, quietly, "a'right, we'll see what we can do. We'll keep you here, see to you; I'll go out see if Does-Things-the-Wrong-Way's at the park, see if I can find her. In the meantime, I got some alcohol in my bag, two kinds, one for you and one for your war wound, eh? How you feel? Is it just the wounds itself, or is it something, uh, deeper, eh?"
Yi, even after all that she's been through, manages a sick sort of rattling laugh. "You are the theurge," she replies as her body wobbles just a bit. "But I think I will sleep... the bathroom maybe. The feeling inside is not getting any better." The joke is lost to a sudden shudder of her body, and the urge to retch overtaking her. The blanket is pushed back at the theurge, as Yi doesn't intend on keeping it around her sick self.
Olga says thinly, pulling back though there's no fear or worry in it, just hurry, "Oh. You want a bucket?" She jerks to her feet, pushing and grasping. "I'll grab you one, you just stay here. I'll get you a bucket and then I'll go grab the feral."
Yi gets a nod out, torn between scratching and vomiting. Once the wave crests and ebbs back, she whispers out, "Thank you. I... I will be in the bathroom." She slaps a hand down onto the floor, not caring about what might already be on it, pushing up to a one-knee kneel. "Thank you, Olga."
"Don't mention it," Olga says brusquely, giving up on the bucket as she sees Yi move sluggishly towards the bathroom. "Don't - there's a jug of water in the girl's beside the stall, for the flushing. I'll be right back. Take care, Yi. Take care of yourself." There's the strain of helplessness in her voice, though it's clouded and clotted by sympathy. Her steps slap quickly against the bare floor as she moves towards the Odeon door, promising once more, "I'll be right back."
Yi mumbles again in thanks, a grimace supposedly passing for a smile being lost in the neon and dark. As the theurge gets to the door, she can hear the ragabash's fit coming up vehemently with violent coughs and heaves. It's going to be a long night.
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