The GM Log of the Harbor Park Fight, Evening of 3/6/98

Kyle's expression sours further. "I'll pass the word, then. If he's tryin' to weasel out, *I'll* romp him then hand him to you." The irony of the comment misses Kyle completely.

Alexandra cocks an eyebrow, but says nothing.

Sally shakes her head, vastly disappointed in the way this Friday night is shaping up. "Nah, nada. It's too damned quiet." She glances around the deepening shadows, then back to the group. "You hear of anything?"

Davy's look has faint surprise, but he nods. "All I could ask, man." He then looks back at Alexandra, then grins slightly. A faint flicker of recognition shows in his face. "You're not a regular. Things quiet in Mother Nature's bounty tonight, or did you just get itchy toes, my lady?"

Alexandra chuckles and moves closer to the group. "Just looking for a little nightlife that includes music, dancing, and serious consumption of alcohol."

Kyle's head turns as Davy addresses Alexandra, and he sizes her up with a critical frown.

Limbo pages all: If anyone has any objections to a little excitement, speak now or forever hold your pieces.
Kyle pages to Alexandra, Sally MacKay, Limbo, Jose Figueroa, and Davy: Excite me.
Alexandra pages to Sally MacKay, Kyle, Limbo, Jose Figueroa, and Davy: Did someone say excitement? :) Bring it on!
Jose Figueroa pages to Alexandra, Sally MacKay, Kyle, Limbo, and Davy: Do your worst. :)
Sally MacKay pages all: Sally rarrs.

A tight knot of tense young men in leather and denim, with dark faces and darker intentions, moves through the park, settling into a roughly circular clump near a park bench. They cast irritated glances at the others in the park, talking among themselves in low voices.

Sally MacKay steps across the center of the gathering and towards Kyle. "Hey there," she grins mischievously as she steps up next to him. "You loitering out here again, huh?"

Dancing a flamenco-style ditty, with no music accompaniment and decent foot control, the Mexi-Gnawer grabs Sally and twirls her once, twice. "All we need is a bottle now."

Motion again gets Davy's attention; people get the feeling he's unusually primed toward it tonight, but he looks away from the gang with only a frown. He then chuckles at Alexandra, saying, "It's getting to be the work part of the month, but if you still feel so, my lady, look me up when it gets dark at night. Part of my job description, you know, to find such things."

Jose Figueroa stops suddenly, an aghast look on his face. "Oh. What's this?" He pats his coat pocket, grinning.

Alexandra chuckles. "You don't say. I'm usually practicing with Elan's band around then, but we don't practice EVERY night..."

Kyle doesn't fail to miss the group entering the park, but he only gives them a flash of attention before facing Sally. "Hunh," he grunts. "It's better than my day job, anyhow." His shoulders rise and fall as if to punctuate the weak small talk.

Sally MacKay has little chance to notice the quality or lack thereof of Kyle's chit-chat as she's swept back by Jose. She laughs, her hair twirling out as she's spun. The blonde seems about ready to step back and continue her talk with the Get when Jose produces the magic bottle. "Hey," she grins, "You're the man!" She holds out her hand to take it.

Jose Figueroa offers up the foul tequila to the Kinswoman with a grin. "Anything to help."

Another group arrives from the other side of the park. The perceptive can detect that these teens are less comfortable with the park. They move with the wariness of paranoid tourists, and several of them rest hands on suspicious lumps in their clothing.

Alexandra mutters softly, "Man, what I wouldn't give for a swarm of rats right about now..."

Davy says "Rats?"

Kyle watches Jose and Sally with a wry frown, then turns away as if he's not comfortable observing them. Instead he looks away from the Garou, and starts to pay a little more attention to the park's other occupants.

Alexandra nods, still murmuring softly. "Yup. Something to keep the riffraff busy..."

With hardly a glance at the bottle's label, Sally opens it and takes a swig. "Arg! Damn," she wipes her mouth with the back of a hand, then gives Jose a wry grin, "You gotta get better shit, man." She hands it back to him.

Jose Figueroa notes at least one group, the ones walking with a purpose. He waits for Sally to take her gulp then grabs the bottle away. "Let's dance s'more." He walks backwards toward the river and a spotlight, offering his hand to Sally again.

Kyle pages: How large are the two groups?

One youth from each group steps away from his cronies and crosses the twenty feet or so between. About three in each group have turned most of their attention to the other denizens of the park, while the rest move in a sussurrus of restlessness. The two leaders stop about three paces apart and the newcomer begins speaking loudly to his counterpart in a foreign language.

Limbo pages all: Anyone speak Cantonese?

Sally MacKay tisks in mock-disapproval at the Gnawer. "There's no music," yet she spins once, then dances her way around Jose slowly, ignoring the offered arm and instead catching his gaze with her own.

From afar, Sally MacKay hardly passed /English/. ;)
Davy pages all: Shyeah. Um, I have "Learn Cantonese in 30 Days" on tape in my van. Does that count? ;)

Davy glances toward the newcomers with a studied "Hmmmm."

Alexandra pages all: Hmmm...if you were asking for Japanese, sure. Speak it with an Edo accent, even. But Cantonese? Sorry.

Locking his gaze in Sally's, he dances around in place, following her, one hand up in the air, snapping at rhythms tapped out with his clunky boots. The other arm is cradled in front.

Alexandra scoops up a handful of water from the fountain and sniffs. "Better than the usual city water..."

The second speaks back, and momentarily, they are clearly in an argument, voices escalating in volume rapidly. Their various compatriots grow increasingly edgy.

Kyle walks around the knot of Garou, roughly placing himself between the dancing duo and the strangers. "Kids," he says just loud enough for those nearby to discern. "May wanna keep your heads up." He glances at Sally. "Or down."

Kyle pages: Are either of these groups park regulars?
You paged Kyle with 'No. They're unfamiliar to you.'.

Sally's steps are right in time with Jose's, it would seem she knows this dance. Oblivious to the other action in the park, she tosses her hair back as she moves right along with him.

Alexandra winks at Kyle, while continuing to eye the area critically.

One could almost hear guitars twanging in the twilight. If one could hear over the shouts of the Asians. Jose smoothly grabs Sally with his right arm around her waist, while his left hand takes her right. They tango-spin out of the spotlight and behind the wooden casket of the fountain.

Davy keeps his eyes on the arguing groups, pushing up off the bench to prowl restlessly a pace forward before he stops and waits. His breathing has quickened slightly at the taste of approaching violence.

Alexandra whistles the theme from 'The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly' under her breath.

Sally MacKay lets herself start to be lead away by Jose, that is until Kyle's words alert her to the other happenings and perhaps to the fact that she -is- being moved with a purpose. She stops dancing, not quite out of the way yet. "Hey, cool," she says quietly as she looks towards the gathered strangers.

Kyle, in contrast to Davy, seems unnaturally calm. He stands rock steady, hands hanging loosly at his side. There's something in his cold eyes as he watches the groups confront each other, though, that hints of his anticipation.

From afar, Jose Figueroa is looking around for bugs or something around the outside of the fountain. Scent of Sweet Honey. :)

+weather
Currently on this calm and cold winter evening in the general St. Claire area, it is 44 degrees Fahrenheit (6.7 degrees Celsius). The wind is coming from the north-northeast at 0.1 mph. The ground is normal. Skies are cloudy with a possible chance of precipitation.

You paged Jose Figueroa with 'It's a bit chilly for ants. There are a few flies resting on the westward facing of the fountain wood.'.
From afar, Jose Figueroa will try to catch one in his hand. You want to check for that? Dex 3 Wits 3.
You paged Jose Figueroa with 'You've got one.'.
Jose Figueroa pages: Maybe smacking the plywood if I catch one. That'll spook some folks. :)
Long distance to Jose Figueroa: Limbo nods.
Jose Figueroa pages: Okee. I'll page it?
You paged Jose Figueroa with 'Gofer it.'.

A *spang* of something ricocheting off the plywood shroud of the fountain echoes through the air of the park, near where Sally and Jose went behind it.

Alexandra spins, scanning the park for the source of the projectile.

The violence begins explosively with that sound, the two men clashing together in a flurry of martial arts to make the head spin. Their gangs spread out, unheeding of the innocents, and open fire, somehow missing their leaders as each teen pulls a firearm from jacket or waistband. The park erupts in gunfire: 1911As dueling with mini-Uzis, pump-action Remington against Beretta Spitfire. Chunks of the wood are blown out of the fountain casket by slugs, trees and benches are pelted.

Kyle pages: Are there many innocents in the park?
You paged Kyle with 'Well, there's the bag lady, and one guy who was sleeping on a bench, and then there's you guys. ;)'.
Kyle pages: So, for my purposes, no. :-)
Long distance to Kyle: Limbo guesses so! :)

Sally MacKay glances at the Gnawer next to her, her head cocking slightly to one side at the sound from his general area, then she returns her attention to the groups beyond the Garou; she seems hardly spooked or surprised at the sound, just slightly curious. "Whoa!" her watching is cut short as the gunfire starts, and it takes no urging from Jose to get her to hit the dirt.

From afar, Jose Figueroa gathers up the fly. Alive or dead as he learned it, doesn't make a bit of difference. He whispers his Gnawery mumbo-jumbo at the fly and blows it at one of the members of the fighting.
Long distance to Jose Figueroa: Limbo okies.

Kyle crouches low and trots to one side, circling arount the combatants towards the main entrance to the park.

From afar, Alexandra burns rage to punt as many innocent bystanders out of the line of fire as possible.

Alexandra moves toward the nearest clutch of innocent bystanders and begins shoving them over the bank and/or behind solid objects.

Sun-Bringer makes his way down the disintegrating cement path, leaving the road behind.
Sun-Bringer has arrived.

Information for Sun-Bringer (Alias 'Trey'):
Sun-Bringer is connected.
Location: Harbor Park Fountain
Other Name(s): Jason "Trey" Wright III
Race: Corax Sex: Male
Breed: Homid Rank: 2 (Neocornix)
Position: SCCU Student; part-time courier for Helios Overnight Services

A hail of bullets criss-crosses the park, accompanied by shouts and curses.

The bag lady that is cowering near Alexandra moves without resistance in whatever direction the Strider propels her. The man who had been sleeping on the bench is now cringing under it, across the blazing cloud of bullets from the Garou. The groups begin to close, individuals moving from cover to cover. One or two screams of pain ring out as slugs find targets.

Alexandra pages: Assuming there's no other innocent bystanders.....?
You paged Alexandra with 'Right.'.

Davy crouches down, using the paltry shelter of a bench to duck flying bullets. He doesn't dive in the fray yet, or anything, but his body language is all wrong for a human. Instead of fleeing or looking afraid, his face only shows more excitement.

Sun-Bringer, probably attracted by the sound of bullets, flies in from the city and settles into a very high tree branch, watching the battle.

From afar, Kyle's intent here was to cut off any of the fleeing combatants heading to the main entrance. Success?
Kyle pages: I mean, did I get to where I wanted to go?
Long distance to Kyle: Limbo nods.

Alexandra's eyes light up like a dog getting a good whiff of fresh steak. She watches for the nearest moron....errr...punk to get close enough to grab.

Sally turns eyes bright with excitement towards the Gnawer. 'Safe' behind the wood-surrounded fountain, fear is absent from the kin's expression. The thought that the fight might move or bullets could pass through the plywood seems to have not occured to her. She shakes her head to Jose's whisper and reaches behind herself and under her coat, producing a gun. She shows it off to him and grins, "Won't need to kick 'em."

Positioned, now, where he wants to be, Kyle allows his form to expand. In the cover of shadow, shrouded by his trenchcoat, he grows, his face twisting into a ghastly snarl, a beard and more covering the features. He emerges from the darkness seeking a target that might be unsuspecting of the threat at their back, and he moves in for the quick take-down.

Kyle pages: I'll be taking full advantage of whatever help Fog's blessing provides to aid in the stealth and subterfuge.

Jose Figueroa blinks and nods, skulking over to the other side of the fountain for a looksee in that direction.

Alexandra moves in on back of the closest gang member with a gun, going for the quick neckbreaker.

Thunder-Eater has given you permission to view his +sheet.
Sun-Bringer pages: Are you the one GMing this ... roughly organized chaos? :)
Long distance to Sun-Bringer: Limbo nods. :)

One of the combatants cries out and staggers back. Moths and similar night insects are closing on him, sticking to him, despite the cold air. He beats at them, screaming, and as he is distracted, half his head absents itself.

Alexandra's nearest target is caught off guard and she snaps his head easily. But the man standing next to him screams and launches a powerful kick at her knee, snapping it.

The immense Get tears down one of the gang members from behind easily, although he catches a slug meant for the human he kills.

Davy comes face to face with a man who thought to share the bench for shelter. He shouts something and tries to slam his gun upside the Fianna's head.

Sun-Bringer pages: Okay. :) Just making sure, just in case. Which half of the combatant's head just got blown away? :)

Thunder-Eater pages: Okay, Resist Pain and aim for the next boy.

Alexandra's broken knee collapses beneath her, and she snarls, bringing her victim's gun up to rake the one who kicked her, as well as any other gang members nearby, as she falls.

Davy had taken half a step backwards toward the bushes, perhaps going for his own shift, when suddenly battle takes the choice from him. Laughing deep in his throat, the ragabash seems to care little. His hand shoots out to try to grab the gangmember's forearm.

Long distance to Thunder-Eater: Limbo nods.

You paged Sun-Bringer with 'Right. :)'.

The bullet slaps into Kyle, a splash of blood misting in the night air. Kyle pays little attention to the wound, though, and angles for the next target; moving quickly and trying to keep up the element of surprise by sticking to the shadows.

Sally MacKay sits up a bit, kneeling with her head well lower than the top of the wooden barrier. She knee-crawls forward a bit, gun held in both hands, but doesn't quite peek out yet. Her head is cocked as she tries to figure out what's happening from the sound alone.

Jose Figueroa rushes from behind the fountain at a gunman, running as fast as his short little legs will carry him. Hairier than before, hoping a good tackle will take out more than the intended target.

Jose Figueroa pages: Glabro, of course. Expecting at least one puncture. :)

Sun-Bringer pages: Bleah. The left eye's nastier to drink from. Oh, well ... I know how he died, anyways. :)

look
Harbor Park Fountain
The area where the fountain was, and presumably the new fountain will be, is now totally enclosed by high plywood walls. There is a door in one of the walls, firmly locked with a padlock. The walls enclose much of the flagstone area, now, only leaving a little around the edges of the old courtyard. To one side, some ground is being leveled for further improvements. Healthy green hedges line one side of the courtyard, just behind some graffiti-covered benches.
The murky waters of the Columbia River flow swiftly along the east side of the park. Bracketing the park to the west is First Street. The park extends to the south.
Contents:
Sun-Bringer
Alexandra
Sally MacKay
Thunder-Eater
Jose Figueroa
Davy
Whisperling
Clean Benches
Flowers
Obvious exits:
ManHole River STreet South

The gunman looks surprised as Davy grabs his arm firmly, catching the bludgeon on the fly. Jose is drilled by a trio of flying bullets, but his tackle takes his intended target to the ground with a bone-crunching impact. Kyle finds his next target less simple to take down as the man reacts to his looming presence by falling to his knees and shooting behind and up. A bullet catches the Get in the shoulder, even as his claws are rending the kneeling gang member. Alexandra's gun rakes through two more gang members, the men spinning to the ground. A bullet punches through the plywood just over Sally's head.

From afar, Thunder-Eater should qualify: more punching and grappling and breaking, less teeth and claws. :-)

Long distance to Thunder-Eater: Limbo okies. :) Will recall that.

Davy squeezes with his left hand, the one holding the gunman's arm. His right reaches for the other arm as his head lashes forward in a hard, abrupt headbutt aimed for the bridge of the other man's nose.

Alexandra rolls back into the shadows, taking advantage of the darkness to shift up to glabro and let her knee heal.

Sally MacKay blinks at the sound of the bullet punching through the board just above her head. She looks up at the hole, the rest of the gunfight forgotten for the moment. Her forehead furrows as if she was trying to figure out what to make of it, then she mutters a 'damn' that's lost in the noise of a fresh hail of fire. She crawls backwards, placing herself more directly behind the fountain before she bends to rest her elbows against the ground.

Jose Figueroa lands hard on top of the gunman with an oof and a nasal snarl, swinging a big meaty fist at the target's jaw.

Kyle finishes with his immediate opponent, then drops to one knee and leans into the shadow of the tree as he takes the gangster's gun and takes a moment to banish the bullet wounds. His icy gaze scans the area looking for immediate threats, including threats to the Veil.

From afar, Thunder-Eater's trying to get enough of a breather to heal a point or two, look for reporters, and familiarize himself with the gun he's picked up.

Sun-Bringer stays high in his tree, watching the bullets fall where they may for the moment, impartially observing the firefight.

The nose crunches under the assault of the thick Irish skull and the man reels back with a cry of pain. He reflexively launches a knee into Davy's midriff, doing little with his lack of leverage. Jose's fist meets his target's jaw with another crunch, and the man goes limp beneath him. Alexandra and Kyle retreat to their respective shadows. Kyle's gun is a mini-Uzi, Alexandra's a Glock 17. Sally seems to have retreated just in time, as more bullets work their way through the embattled plywood, particularly at the corners.

The bag lady has run away, astutely assessing the situation as "bad". The man under the bench has crawled into some bushes for better cover. The two gang leaders, unheeding of the flying bullets, or their falling companions, continue to tangle in cinematic style.

You paged Thunder-Eater with 'No reporters so far. :)'.

Thunder-Eater pages: Okay... distance to the leaders? Can I make it in a sprint?

Long distance to Thunder-Eater: Limbo nods.

Alexandra gleefully picks off gangsters with backshots from her prone position, until she runs out of bullets.

Davy pages: Did I grab his other arm successfully? :)

You paged Davy with 'Yes, sorry. :)'.

Jose Figueroa hops up and tries to position himself behind a bench or a tree for cover against more fire.

"Aw shit," Sally mutters louder, but still totally missed within the fight's noise even if there was someone back there with her to hear. She drops belly-down to the ground, her eyes darting back and forth as she tries to watch both sides of the fountain at once. Her fingers are white on the gun's grip as she holds it before her face, bent elbows against the ground and, facing the wood as she is, in a darned poor firing position.

Davy gets blood in his hair, but is otherwise unscathed so far. Fighting with the practiced ease of more than one bar brawl, Davy moves his body back slightly as the man attempts the kick. Then using the gangster's arms as leverage, he brings his leg up high and shoves his cowboy boot right about at the gunman's belt buckle.

+sheet davy
Stats for Davy, a Garou who is wearing homid form:
+sheet kyle
Stats for Thunder-Eater, a Garou who is wearing Glabro form:

Thunder-Eater rises from the shadows, moving with unnatural speed and exuding an aura of brutal menace. He charges the leaders, heedless of the bullets that criss-cross his path; relying on the other Garou to keep heads down for long enough for him to do what he has to do.

Thunder-Eater pages: Burning four rage. I want to down both of the leaders, if I can.

Alexandra, once she empties her pistol, tosses it over the river and prepares to charge whoever is still standing.

A couple of unfortunates get caught in the back by Alexandra's potshots, at least until her clip is empty. Jose manages to find himself a bench that's only occupied by a boy with a belly wound who stares up at him with glazed, pain-filled eyes, gasping for breath as the blood spreads across his shirt, his gun discarded next to him. Davy's opponent oofs into the ground painfully, but does lash out with a vicious kick that lands slightly askew, only leaving behind a broad flash of pain that will probably just bruise. Sally continues unscathed.

Kyle closes with unnatural speed upon the dueling leaders. They respond extremely well for humans, each actually managing to get a strike in before Kyle puts them down with thunderous punches. The Get looms over the bodies of the pair, jaw broken and ribs along his right side cracked.

This seems to put the remainder of the gang members to the mind of flight, and the hail of bullets dies down to covering fire as they back off to their respective sides of the park.

Jose Figueroa puts massive, hairy fingers up to his lips and whistles shortly. "Got a live one. Take 'im or dust 'im?" He looks like he's ready for either, hunched behind the bloody bench.

Sally remains down, even once the firing slow. Glancing up at the bullet-chewed wooden corner, she waits with gun in hand.

Davy winces slightly, but not in any way that slows him down. Still on his feet with the gang member on the ground, he brings up his booted foot and stomps for the other guy's neck.

Alexandra flips to her feet, advancing on the gang members closest to her with a gleam of bloodlust in her eyes.

Thunder-Eater drops to a crouch and waves the mini-Uzi about as he lets it empty its clip in a hail of suppressing fire. He lurches back towards the cover of the shadows, as the gun clatters in his hand, still heedless of the damage dealt him, and his cold eyes seek another target for his wrath.

Alexandra says "Hey there, little boys.....who wants to play? Hmmmm?"

Jose Figueroa doesn't hear a nay from any of the group, so he cocks back his fist, looking down on the bleeding kid. The fist rockets down but stops just short of crushing his head like a melon. He looks down and walks around the bench for the kid's discarded pistol. Jose cocks it and places a round into the kid's chest.

The guy on the ground gurgles in pain as Davy's boot comes down, crushing cartilage. One shotgun shell amidst the retreating fire catches the Fianna in the chest, however, blasting him over backwards with the force of the shot. Alexandra's approach seems to stir the nearest gang members into motion, and they take to their heels as fast as possible. Targets are rapidly emptying from the area as Kyle prowls for prey. The Get manages to catch one more who wasn't quite fast enough to slip away, and the teen's neck snaps. Jose's 'live one' reacts to his words with a frightened, pained gasp of indrawn breath, and he winces as Jose's fist comes toward him. As he sees the broad man pick up the gun, he mumbles something and clutches at a locket at his throat. The sharp report of the gun is the last bullet fired in the park. Blood geysers up from the boy's chest and he dies.

And Sally sees none of this. However with the gunfire dying down, she does once more start crawling towards the non-shot up side of the fountain.

Alexandra starts after the fleeing punks, and winces as she realizes her knee may be healed, but it still hurts like hell. She scans the carnage and heads for the downed Fianna.

Kyle widens the scope of his hunt, chasing down any he can and doing his level best to ensure that they do not survive to tell of tonight's massacre. As the prey passes outside the park, he settles down, walking slowly back towards the benches with the Uzi still dangling from his hand.

Blood sprays the front of Jose's tattered clothing and face. The geyser steps him back a pace. He stands there for a second or two, breathing quite heavily, gun still pointed at the dead kid on the bench.

You paged Davy with 'You're not unconscious or anything, that just hurt like hell. Like 5 nonagg or so.'.

Davy rolls over on his stomach, coughing wetly as he procedes to ruin yet another jacket and shirt in another day's work. He crawls the three feet into the bushes, leaving a trail of blood behind. Once there, his form grows larger, and a silver-gleaming baseball bat gleams in his right hand. Alexandra gets there in time to see the glabro roll over and his chest start knitting itself back together.

Alexandra nods and mutters, "Cops'll be here any minute. I got your backside. Clear."

Jose Figueroa starts and looks over his shoulder. Remembering his packmate, he turns and looks around for him, spotting the streak of dark wet towards the bushes.

Sally MacKay gains the side of the fountain, carefully peeking out before rising to a crouch and taking another fast look. She stands up, one hand remaining against the rough wood as she takes in the war zone-ish scene before her with widened eyes. "Fuck," the word is no louder than the other two she murmured during the fight.

There are one or two whimpers or moans from the bodies scattered around the park.

Davy takes less than half a minute to heal completely, but he pulls to his feet before that. Gaia's gift to the Garou is indeed great. He glances around, his voice harsh from the shift. "How much cleanup before we scatter?"

Alexandra looks around and nods towards the big Get. "He's the only worry. Everything else looks like it was done by the gangs."

Limbo pages all: Limbo sorries for an earlier pose. Kyle was primarily punching things, not clawing.

Jose Figueroa grunts at the form in the bushes, speaking through shoulder, forearm and gut wounds freshly healed. "Davy. Gotta go dude. Hit the sewers. Le's go."

Sally takes one step, then another away from her former cover, her gun still gripped within one hand. She licks her lips nervously as her eyes move across the bodies and the splatterings of blood.

"Fingerprints," Kyle growls. "Wipe down any guns ya touched, and watch for powder burns on your clothes." He looks to Alexandra and his form sloughs back into homid as his wounds close. "My kills were clean."

Kyle pages: Looking for another thug's gun. Any joy? Kyle's gonna try and finish any of the wounded.

Alexandra nods. "Glad you're still with us. Wasn't sure for a minute there." She lets herself shrink back to normal and grins. "Lead on."

Long distance to Kyle: Limbo nods. You can find a gun with some bullets in it. And the whimpering wounded.

Davy pages: Did I touch anything on the guy that might leave a fingerprint?

You paged Davy with 'Nope.'.

Sirens sound in the distance.

Jose Figueroa stuffs the pistol in his waistband. "I'm hittin' the sewers. Let's go." Without waiting, he heads for the manhole, not a second thought for the Kin he helped to hide.

Kyle swallows tightly as he hurriedly retrieves another gun from one of the bodies. "And, the last. I'll finish off the wounded, then bolt to the shadow or the sewers."

After her two steps, Sally stops and stares rather dazedly at the scene. Her gun holding hand lowers to her side, probably forgotten.

Alexandra shakes the girl. "Move it, girl, unless you LIKE jail."

Jose Figueroa opens the manhole and climbs down through it.
Jose Figueroa has left.

Alexandra heads for the bank and moves upstream, putting as much distance between herself and the park as possible.

As good as his word, Kyle begins making his way through the park like a vision of Death, working his way from body to body, finishing those that might survive by breaking necks, crushing throats, or with a muffled gunshot. All the while, his expression remains stony.

Davy doesn't touch the body again, after giving it a quick once-over and turning on his heel. His form shrinks again as he gets small enough to fit his broad shoulder through the manhole. "I gotta get noseplugs," he mutters. Then he's gone after the Gnawer. He uses the remains of his jacket to pull the manhole cover back over.

Davy opens the manhole and climbs down through it.
Davy has left.

Sally blinks once, but the shake brings her pretty much out of it. She ohs softly, then peeks around the Garou to take another look at the scene before she nods. She heads for the exit, gun remaining forgotten for a number of steps before she remembers to return it under her coat.

Kyle pages: When it starts to get tight, lights visible, Kyle will run down to the river front and reach through to the Umbra.

The scene is behind the kinswoman as Kyle starts moving, and luckily she misses his 'cleaning up'.

All in all, fourteen young men lie dead in the park. The flicker of police lights arrives shortly after the Get retreats to the river.

Sally MacKay turns left as she leaves the park, walking in the opposite direction of the arriving police.

Kyle's eyes stop contemplatively on his reflection.
Sally MacKay makes her way onto the street in the west.
Sally MacKay has left.
Kyle seems to shimmer momentarily, and then vanishes.
Kyle has left.

From afar, Kyle'll peek back occasionally, and come back through when the coast is clear to survey the damage. :-)

\
Alexandra makes her way onto the street in the west.
Alexandra has left.

Sun-Bringer looks up at the flashing police lights and makes a vaguely disappointed noise. Before they get too close, he flits down and shifts up to homid. He crouches down beside the body of the boy shot by Jose and whispers, "Dude? I know it sound like ick, but can I drink from your eye? Someone needs to remember; someone needs to /know/, and I'm about it right now. I need to know soon, though, 'cause the cops are about here."

The boy's dead eyes stare up at the sky, blood still flowing from his chest. His hand, however, slips from the necklace and his arm flops lifelessly to the ground.

Jason nods to himself and shifts back after a quick glance towards the street again. "Thanks, dude." The raven flits up to the dead boy's chest and the sharp, powerful beak shoots down, piercing the right eyeball. The Corax drinks deeply of the aqueous humor, his beak going up as he swallows down the good in the boy's last few seconds of life.

The police arrive on the scene cautiously, guns drawn, moving in cover. When they get their first look at the site, and realize that the danger is pretty much past, one of them lets out a low whistle.

Sun-Bringer takes off back to the top of the same tree and watches the police for a while before launching himself back into the sky, circling the park a couple of times, and heading off towards the northwest.

Sun-Bringer pages: And if you want to make up whatever was in the locket, that would've presumably been going through his head when he died. Something to throw in Jose's face later. :)

Sun-Bringer pages: Or I can make it up, if you'd rather. Six of one, half-dozen of the other. :)

You paged Sun-Bringer with 'The locket has a picture of his mother and sister in it. He was thinking that he wished he could die in the sunshine, and fighting instead of lying on the ground. And deeply regretted not giving his mother more money before he left town to come here.'.

Sun-Bringer pages: Ah, well ... I could've arranged the 'dying in the sunshine' part, if I'd but known. Though the cops would have been even /more/ suspicious. :) Thanks.

Long distance to Sun-Bringer: Limbo grins. No prob.