East Bridge Street(#2903R)
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.
Obvious exits:
Harbor PArk Holland Place Charlie's Tavern Alley Washington Warehouse WHarf St. Claire Power And Light East South North West
Pete Barlow stops at the corner across the street from Charlie's, bending down toward a brown, wet bag beside a mailbox. The big Gnawer picks up the wet bag, opening it and peering in. The light catches briefly on his teeth as he smiles, extracting most of an uneaten Big Mac from the bag. And, much to his delight, there seem to be three chicken McNuggets and an unopened BBQ sauce to boot.
A large, dirty, mostly white, young dog comes trotting down the sidewalk, occasionally brushing against the wall of the building next to her or bumping into pedestrian's legs. Her view of the road ahead is blocked by the empty KFC bucket she's carrying, her jaws firmly around one end of it, her muzzle and most of the rest of her face inside it. She keeps tilting her head back and forth, as if trying to find an angle that will allow her to see around the large container.
Bailey heads towards the Tavern with his packmates in tow. "Food's good, and they're not big on carding here," he says to the others. "Think we all need a night out, anyway." While he seems to be in high spirits, anyone really looking at the Walker can see there are a lot of things on his mind.
Elan walks up with Arlen and Casper, side-by-side. Sassy follows a ways behind.
Outside Charlie's Tavern, a line of less-than-savory characters has accumulated. A poster, plastered unevenly next to the door, states that it's "Charlie's Wet T-Shirt Night! Ladies get in free if they're wearing a t-shirt. Beers half price." A bulky ex-con fills half the doorway, flexing his tattoo-covered biceps and eyeing the clientele. He brandishes a handheld metal detector over every entering customer. A bucket next to him seems to be accumulating a small pile of minor implements of mayhem.
Pete Barlow continues to munch on his recent acquisition, getting as much of the BBQ sauce on his fingers as on the chicken nuggets.
Clever-for-Food's bumper-caring her way down the sidewalk, a big, empty KFC bucket in her jaws and blocking her view. Her tail wags with each step.
Hank comes walking down the street from the north, waving as he sees his packmates arriving.
Arlen stops short as she sees the... event... at Charlie's. "Good Gods."
Bailey ia walking in with Hank, chuckling at some joke the Gnawer just told. He looks up as they approach the others, and grins. The grin fades as he sees Arlen's reaction, and he looks at the poster. "Oh, lord. I...didn't know."
+weather
Currently on this calm and cold fall in the general St. Claire area, it is 35 degrees Fahrenheit (1.7 degrees Celsius). The wind is coming from the south-southwest at 2.3 mph. The ground is normal. Skies are hazy with a possible chance of precipitation.
Arlen pages: You know about Arlen's pledge? Help any woman she sees that's in trouble? Ahem?
Long distance to Arlen: Chaos didn't know, but thinks that this might be amusing if that happens. ;)
Elan flashes a grin at Arlen. "This is the sort of thing Furies live for, ain't it?"
Casper lopes in behind Elan and Arlen. He looks around for the cause of Arlen's surprise but his attention is caught by the bouncer, who he observes silently.
Arlen cracks a knuckle. "Can't stop people's minds. Anyone gets into trouble, I'm on it, though."
Elan nods to Arlen and keeps on walking towards the line.
Casper murmurs, "It's a little chilly for wet t-shirts isn't it?"
Clever-for-Food slows for a step, tossing her head to get a better grip on the greasy bucket without lowering it to the ground and allowing it a chance at escape. She makes a happy little noise as she drools around her mouthful of coated cardboard.
Just arriving at the front of the line are three men in battered, ancient p-jackets and anonymous gray work pants. They're all in their mid-40s, with "downtrodden blue collar worker" written all over their leathery countenances. The bouncer's metal detector signals as he reaches the first one's pocket. He mutters something to the man, with a sharp gesture at the bucket.
"Rather," Arlen mutters, and starts walking a bit faster.
Bailey shakes his head. "These nights," he says, falling in step behind the others, "it'll warm up in there, soon enough."
Hank nods quietly. "Got that right...."
East Bridge Street(#2903R)
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:
Arlen
Elan
Casper
Pete Barlow
Hank
Clever-for-Food
Bailey
Obvious exits:
Harbor PArk Holland Place Charlie's Tavern Alley Washington Warehouse WHarf St. Claire Power And Light East South North West
Pete Barlow sees the gathering across the street, smiles, and simply walks out into the street, weaving among the passing cars, pausing only once to flip off a cabbie, "Watch where you point that thing, you gawddamned motherfuckin' excuse for a syphilitic whoreson!" The curse can be clearly heard well up to the front of the Tavern.
You paged Hank, Arlen, Casper, and Elan with 'As the four of you draw closer to the line, you become aware that something in the area stinks pretty thoroughly on SW, over and above the rather elevated local readings of Wyrm.'.
Arlen perks up. "Ah, it's the call of the lonesome Woody," and starts to move over to where she last heard him, before she pauses, eyes narrowing.
Elan grins as he hears, then sees Pete. Then he comes up short, sniffing the air. He growls a quick 'fuck' under his breath.
Clever-for-Food, trotting along, bumps into a woman coming up the street from the other direction than Arlen and company. She makes a face at the touch of the street-grimey fur and makes a shoo-shoo'ing motion at the dog with a hand. Clever wags to her, brown ears pricking forward -- the only part of her face visible around the container.
Bailey stifles a snort, standing in line as he waits. He looks to the crowd, and back to his friends. At Elan's muttered outburst, his eyebrows raise.
Barlow's curse is followed by a more subtle honk, ignored by the Gnawer who has now arrived near the gathering of friends. "They should make those idiots get licenses to drive those things. Deadly."
From afar, Arlen gets a headache, and tries HS.
Casper covers his mouth with the too-long sleeve of his coat and coughs, eyes bulging slightly.
Hank glances over at Elan, then frowns.
Several people in the line look over at Pete, but the people at the front of the line are mostly occupied with the interesting things being said to the bouncer by the first man. The bouncer, in turn, is straightening up and flexing, moving to block the door entirely. He says something in a low voice once, jabbing a finger into the man's chest, then at the bucket. The man wheels sharply out of line in time to nearly trip over Clever. Cursing loudly, he lashes out and catches the dog in the side with his steel-toed boot.
You paged Clever-for-Food with 'No damage, but it's a glancing blow, and Clever can feel the strength behind the kick that didn't actually catch her.'.
Bailey watches the man's action, and snarls inwardly. "The fuck?"
Hank growls softly to himself.
Clever-for-Food, moving along with her prize, doesn't notice anything till she's tripped over. Brown ears flick, then she drops the KFC bucket as she's kicked, a little yelp leaving her. Brown tail lowering she leaps back, her attention quickly becomes divided between the kicker and her container. With slinking steps and a quiet growl, she circles closer to it, her eyes on the man.
Elan looks at his small party. "Usal, we have Wyrmsign," he says quietly. His head whips around at the sound of the dog whine, his eyes widen. "Clever?" He begins to race over that way. "Hey, fucker! That's my dog!"
Bailey sprints off behind Elan, tension rising quickly.
Pete Barlow's attention, focused at first on Arlen, is drawn in the motion of Elan and the others toward the Dog Kicker. The burly Gnawer frowns, jaws tensing.
The man's two cronies apparently issue threats to the bouncer and turn to go with their buddy. The original offender snarls at the dog, then looks up at Elan. "Whatcha gonna do about it, pussyboy?" He settles his fists on his hips and looks like he's already two sheets to the wind.
Sassafras comes up from the south, out of the industrial sector's riverside district.
Sassafras has arrived.
Hank groans, following closely behind Elan and Bailey.
You paged Clever-for-Food with 'The man *stinks* of various fossil-type fuels and other icky chemicals.'.
From afar, Clever-for-Food nods. Noted.
Arlen mouths, "Clever?" and then realizes who Elan's talking about. "Oh, ah," she says, and starts after the new Fostern.
Elan tries to stand between the worker and Clever. "Just leave my dog alone."
From afar, Arlen tries to narrow teh Wyrmsign down? Triangulate a bit?
You paged Elan with 'As you get closer to the guy, you get hit by the reek of chemicals off the guy's clothes.'.
From afar, Elan nods. This the source of the Sign?
You paged Arlen with 'Well, the background of the power plant is mussing things up a bit for you.'.
You paged Elan with 'Maybe. The background of the power plant nearby is mussing things up a bit for you.'.
From afar, Elan bets! :)
Clever-for-Food, her ears drawn back and her eyes shifting elsewhere, growls back at the kicker. Elan's call attracks her attention and she shoots a look his way, her tail speeding up to a blur. She barks once to him, leaps forward to reclaim her KFC bucket (by chance grabbing it by the upper edge and thus not blocking her vision this time), then bounds over to Elan, wagging wildly.
Casper walks slowly after Elan and Arlen, craning his head to the side to get a better look at the dog. He recognises her and hmms.
Pete Barlow moves along at the tail of the pack of 'friends'. The tall Gnawer's eyes are on the two friends, narrowed as he studies them.
Bailey stands about five feet away from Elan. His mouth is set in a firm line, but stays very silent.
Arlen, assured Clever's not going to get stomped on, backs up to Pete and murmurs something to him, and then ducks into the alley.
Sassafras scoots in, humming to herself as she blades along, picking up stray bottles and cans. She notices the crowd, recognizes the Garou, and recognizes that something just isn't right. So she continues along her way, still humming, blending in and out of any current foot traffic with agile moves, keeping an eye and an ear on the situation.
From afar, Arlen goes off into the alley so's she can concentrate and checks her handydandy mirror.
Pete Barlow steps over toward the alley into which Arlen has ducked, his attention still focused though his posture becomes more tense, more guarded and guarding.
The cronies arrive to flank the mouthy one, and one of them says, "Hey, Ray, look, he's got some *friends* with 'im. D'ya think we oughta be shakin' in our boots?"
Ray looks past Elan briefly, then settles his cold little black eyes on the theurge. "You look like you could use getting your ass kicked, little boy. You and your little dog too." His buddies laugh. The reek of alcohol would wilt plants at ten paces.
Hank snorts softly, not taking his eyes off the three drunks.
Bailey rolls his eyes. "Oh give me a fucking break," he mutters.
Elan stabs the man with his narrowed eyes, letting the swirling Rage surface and boil over. He growls softly under his breath at the worker. He's silent as he tries the staredown.
Clever-for-Food moves between Elan, Bailey, and Hank, greeting each as best she can with the greasy bucket in her muzzle. Once her hellos are finished, she turns to face the men, her brown tail lifting as she stands together with the others.
You paged Arlen with 'You're wandering into the Umbra now?'.
Arlen pages: No. Peeking. Mirror. Just a check, you know?
You paged Arlen with 'No Peeking from this side; only from Umbra out. Unless you have a Gift?'.
From afar, Arlen blinks. Oh. Ok. Nope, no such Gift. There anyone in here? She just wants to do a spot check... Very brief...
Casper stops himself and hangs back behind the packmates. He slides his hands in his coat pockets and withdraws a few steps. Dark eyes peer alternately at the sidewalk below and at the scene developing ahead.
From afar, Elan has a 7 WP, and 3 Rage. He even spends a point of both, now, to be ready and to fuel the attempt.
Ray meets the stare evenly... for a few moments. Then he takes a few steps backwards, his upper lip curling into a snarl. One of his friends lets out a hissing growl audible only to the Garou, it being down in the lowest registers of human hearing, and the sound sets neck-hairs on end. The second crony straightens up and looks imposing while not looking at the knot of Garou.
You paged Arlen with 'There are several banelets flittering around the trio facing the Cavallies. About four.'.
You paged Arlen with 'HS would have let you smell the chemical reek off the trio earlier, sorry.'.
From afar, Arlen, a pack animal, goes back over to get Pete.
From afar, Sassafras wonders if she should page you with things like trying to get out of the line of sight, blurring, and coming back to somewhere behind these guys? :)
Long distance to Sassafras: Chaos nodsnods. That'll work. Behind them is a little space and the line of people outside the tavern.
From afar, Sassafras keens.
Elan keeps his eyes on Ray, backing him down with just a dark golden stare.
Arlen emerges out of the alley and whispers urgently to the big Gnawer.
Clever-for-Food slowly, slowly lowers the bucket down to the sidewalk, her eyes fixed on the growling man. She releases the bucket carefully, then slaps one overly large paw down onto it, holding her claim on the chicken-flavored thing. Ears back, her growl rumbles a quiet answer, her dirty hackles lifting.
Several of the men in line for the Events at Charlie's are watching the facedown with vague interest. A couple are pointing and commenting on Elan in low voices.
Sassafras lithely zips into even more cracks and crevices, easily disappearing from the view of the Garou, and especially the three alcohol-reeking mean-men.
You paged Hank, Bailey, Casper, Elan, and Clever-for-Food with 'You're all close enough and the wind has shifted just right to give you a faceful of the chemical reek on the Terrible Trio's clothing.'.
Pete Barlow turns sharply to Arlen and nods, shooting a quick glance back at the others. He turns to Arlen. "Let's go."
You paged Elan with 'The p-jacket on the one that hissed is partly open. You can see what looks like a blue work-shirt inside. You can almost see the logo...'.
From afar, Elan keeps his eyes riveted on this one until he's back aways. Then he'll turn on the one that hissed. That...didn't sound very human, did it?
You paged Elan with 'No, no it didn't.'.
Arlen, if she can catch Sassafras as she goes, whispers to her, as well, but makes a beeline for the alley, either way.
Bailey sniffs the air slowly, and grimaces.
From afar, Sassafras, having a slight case of that metis curse known as hypersensitivity, mighta heard ol' Arlen. But the reason I wanted t'get behind 'em and blurred is cos I kinda wanna put Scent of Sweet Honey on 'em.
You paged Sassafras with 'Okay. Oh, the hypersensitivity would let you get hit by the chemical reek that's coming off them.'.
Sassafras pages: See, I needa know these things. :) Hit how, like as in, it hurts, etc etc?
You paged Sassafras with 'Nah, you just smell it. Sharp, nasty, fossil-fuel type stench.'.
Casper sits down on the curb and occupies himself with a long string he pulls out of his coat sleeve. Cough once, paling slightly, he sets wrapping the string around his hands.
Arlen pages to Pete Barlow and Chaos: Anyways, shift back over, etc...
Clever-for-Food remains with the others, growling, but not in reaction to the smell.
The three back up slowly, giving themselves room to move between the line at the Tavern and the small knot of Garou. Continuing to face Elan and his friends, though not meeting the Fostern's eyes, their hands come out of their pockets and small things glint in the dim light. They do not, in fact, appear to be ready to attack, but they are arming themselves for defense.
Bailey's eyes follow the group. As they do not attack, the Galliard refrains from taking any action.
Elan just shakes his head. "Go on, guys. Scat." he says in a low, dangerous voice.
Elan pages: Knives?
You paged Elan with 'Oh, yeah.'.
You paged Sassafras with 'You putting SoSH on them before they head off?'.
Sassafras pages: Like that really nasty-wasty gasoline and oil smell. Gotcha. I would like to, yes. :)
Clever-for-Food's growl rises a little, underscoring Elan's orders.
Hank just keeps staring at the men, tensing as they arm themselves.
The trio edges off. The commentary from the line at the Tavern rises into raucous laughter. If looks could kill, there'd be a massacre as the retreating three glance over at the laughing group.
From the gutters and storm sewer grating nearby, a small horde of tiny crawling black things starts moving toward the sidling boots.
Ray turns back toward the Garou, spits at Elan's feet defiantly and brandishes his switchblade incautiously. "You ain't worth my time. I'd prob'ly get AIDS." His vile snigger infects his friends and they turn their backs on the pack.
Elan pages: I see the black things?
You paged Elan with 'Oh, yeah. They're roaches. Big, fat, nasty roaches.'.
Clever-for-Food pages: The little things make some kind of noise? Or are they too small?
You paged Clever-for-Food with 'Whatever noise big, fat, nasty sewer roaches make. :)'.
Sassafras, unblurring, appears by Arlen's side in the alleyway. Taking note of the crawleys with evident glee, she murmurs, "Crawl, my pretties! Crawl!" a la the Wicked Witch and stifles laughter with both hands over her mouth.
Elan growls and relaxes just a bit. Then he looks down and cocks his head. "What the fuck?" he says, as he sees the hoard of...roaches?
Clever-for-Food's ears flick at the noise of all the tiny feet and her growl dies off. Her head cocks slightly as she watches, then quickly she lowers it to grab her KFC bucket.
The roaches follow the three men as the men, in turn, walk toward St. Claire Power and Light, muttering among themselves. The hissing guy turns after a belt from a glittering flask and shouts random obscenities at the Garou -- from what he regards as a safe distance.
Hank blinks, seeing which way the men are going.
Bailey watches the mundane manifestations of his Tribe's Totem, and snickers. "Very very cool."
Elan looks at the stream and back at his buds. "We need to follow that, I think. That ain't natural."
Men (not to mention, bugs) gone, Clever quickly reverts to her old self. Tail wagging, she makes her rounds again, wagging and leaning against the Garous' legs.
Bailey nods, growing a little grim. "Yeah, true. Love to know where the roaches came from, though."
Elan shakes his head, suddenly. "Nah. Don't need to bother with 'em, I don't think." He looks to Arlen, and the others.
Sassafras, listening to the commentary on the bugs, simply rocks back and forth, heel to toe, on her roller blades, whistling quietly to herself.
Casper watches the bugs skitter after the men, rapt on this.
Hank takes a couple deep breaths, watching the men leave.
Hank pages: Sense Wyrm...that heavy source fading?
You paged Hank with 'Yup.'.
The trio disappears through the checkpoint of the power plant, already laughing and joking and pointing back toward the Garou. They are doing a little bit of a dance on top of the stream of six-legged groupies they seem to have attracted.
Elan looks to Arlen. "This town gets weirder every damn day."
Casper casts a nasty glance up at the power station.
Hank nods to the plant as he regards his packmates.
From afar, Sassafras wishes there were fire-ants about. ;P Oh well. :)
Long distance to Sassafras: Chaos cackles. Too far north. :)
From afar, Sassafras knows. But man, those things /hurt/... :)
Sassafras pages: SoSH doesn't attract meece, does it? I can't remember.
You paged Sassafras with 'GM's decision on the variety of vermin.'.
Clever-for-Food reaches Casper and rears up onto her hind legs. Her mouth full, she can't lick him, but tries -- and ends up bumping him with the bucket unless he blocks it.
Casper blinks as greasy cardboard smacks him back to reality. He unwinds the taut string from his hands and reaches out to pat Clever. He says distractedly, "You have a lot of friends don't you?"
Those with keen eyes that happen to be watching after the three men might notice one of them apparently mooning the security guard at the checkpoint.
Clever-for-Food wiggles happily under the Gazer's hand. Yes! YesYesYes!
The crowd that had strung out the line somewhat dissipates as the music inside the tavern starts up, booming so that only the bass is audible to the people outside. The bouncer speeds up the business of scanning clientele.
Sassafras winces, standing fairly close to the building and the booming bass, so she skates back out towards the group, rounding near to Bailey.
Bailey looks down at the No-Moon with a grin. "Hey, lass. Been a while."
Clever-for-Food flops down in the middle of the sidewalk, setting about to chewing her chicken-flavored prize.
Hank grins at Sass.
Sassafras pokes Bailey in the side with a skinny finger. "That's Sass, not Lass, silly." She winks and gives a good-natured smile to Hank.
Elan looks down at Clever. "What's Rule Number One, Girl?"
Clever-for-Food looks up at Elan, not letting go of her bucket just yet. Ears lowering, she gives him a sad look, then lets the container drop from her muzzle and scoots back a little.
Elan shakes his head. "That's not it." He laughs a bit. "Go ahead and eat. Youn hunted it, and you earned it. We got some more back home for you." he looks back to the line, then the others. "We gonna party, or what?"
Clever-for-Food's ears shoot forward, though only one stands upright. Food? Hungry! Hungry! Hungry! Snatching up the bucket, she leaps to her paws and bounds around Elan.
Hank glances at Charlie's. "Looks at bit on the loud side tonight. Guess we can, though."
Bailey shrugs. "No biggie either way."
Arlen pages to the room: We're off umbral, btw, just now. Ignore us, move along.
Pete Barlow pages to the room: These are not the droids you were looking for.
From afar, to the room, Casper hehs.
Hank grins. "Could try t' get stuff t'gether an' have our own party."
Bailey looks voer to Hank, and beams. "That I like."
Casper gets to his feet and waves to the others, "I just had an idea... need to go and think... catch up with you later!" He runs off.
Elan says "Sassy, what do you say?"
Sassafras glances back towards the alley that Arlen went down earlier. "Wull, m'kinda curious 'bout where they went... but..."
From afar, Arlen has two bane arrows and dat's all she has.
Bailey chuckles.
Elan nods. "I think that Arlen and the Old Man are checking that out."
Clever-for-Food makes happy little noises as she chews up the paper bucket, swallowing chunks of it as she gnaws.
Sassafras nods, rubbing a finger along her upper lip thoughtfully. "Think I should go scout 'long behind 'em and stuff?"
Elan thinks. "I think so, yeah."
Sassafras nods, and gives the older and higher-ranking Gnawer a salute and a grin. "Aye-aye, will do."
Elan looks down to the happy lupus Gnawer and snaps his fingers. "Come on, Girl." He looks to his packmates. "I need to get her out of harms way, first."
Sassafras zips down the alley way, seeking the way Arlen disappeared.
Bailey nods, and agrees. "Bring her home, I guess."
Clever-for-Food jumps right up, the half-eaten bucket in her mouth. She moves to follow right along, wagging.
Hank nods. "Yeah..."
You paged Sassafras with 'They went Umbral. Hmhmhm. You'd probably have noticed the mirror in Arlen's hand when you had gone over thataway. So you might figure that out.'.
From afar, Sassafras noddles. I figured I saw and 'heard'. So can I go too, huh, can I can I? :)
You paged Sassafras with 'Yup, in a mo'. Gimme a minute to catch them up to present time. :)'.
From afar, Sassafras noddles.
Hank glances at Bailey. "Guess it's up t' us t' get stuff together for the party?"
Bailey snorts. "Sure, leave it to the kid with the wallet." He shrugs. "First, we snag about two hundred Mcnuggets."
Hank grins. "Yeah? Sounds like a start."
Hank hmmms. "Beer? Or pop?"
"Both. Just to make things easier." Bailey starts to head off, thinking.
Hank tags along after him. "Cool..."
A well-endowed woman in a white t-shirt bounds up to the door and slides past the bouncer, who grins widely and toothlessly for the next several minutes.
Bailey watches the woman wander past, and rolls his eyes. "What-ev-er."
11/14/98
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