Twilight
It is full dark and the commercial stretch
of Federal is brilliant though at this hour the "Foot Massage" spas are
all closing while the "Oriental Massage" parlors are all opening and the
family run restaurants are closing their dining rooms and opening their
delivery services. Or rather: still running delivery until the calls
stop coming in. Thursday night they stay open later and traffic is
steady, a constant rush along the boulevard, and amidst the cheap, 1970s
era commercial strips and repurposed and reclaimed fast food
restaurants turned into Pho places or taqueries or Korean barbeque
joints there are prostitutes in the alleys and drug dealers on the
corners and retail clerks in the bus stops, waiting for for the Number 7
to take them back across town.
--
Half the lights are out
in the weedy asphalt strip where the Elephant Car Wash is found, but
there is a dull blue glow from behind the graffiti-covered signage of
an... elephant. Washing a car. As they do.
Someone has made an
artistic statement about male anatomy and the elephant's truck with
spray paint, or attempted too, but the half-hearted glow of the sign at
night disrupts the paint lines and merely makes the graffiti look
drippy. Like the elephant has post-nasal drip.
There is a dark
Subaru outback tucked beside the commercial vaccuum cleaners set into a
concrete and brick piling near the front of the lot. One quarter buys
you fifteen seconds of high-grade suction. But again: dark, locked,
lights off and no one there.
There is also a woman.
In a wedding dress.
Seated on the metal steps flanking the drive, where an old white commercial truck has been parked.
Her face is in her hands.
She is crying. Sobbing, really.
Hector Ghosh
When
he'd volunteered to stay here and help Cold Crescent learn to discern
their asses from their elbows he had not meant he would do so with any
amount of stoicism. Lola did not hear from him for a little over 48
hours after going back to Forgotten Questions but given the tiff they'd
had she might have thought he was just ignoring her.
She'd gotten broke into a church lol NOT GONNA DO THAT AGAIN
and that had been the end of his silent spell. They're talking again.
He'd texted her this morning to say she should stop being a schoolgirl
and come patrol the city with them.
He and Thomas on the other
hand haven't had any tiffs. Truth be told he was pleased as hell with
the younger Cliath's performance at the Moot and may or may not have
embarrassed him with all the shoulder-beating and hair-ruffling he'd
done. That was weeks ago. Now they've been thrown together for patrols
and he thinks that's pretty goddamn great.
"Don't worry, White
Boy," he'd said to the Shadow Lord before they set out, his eyes down at
the screen as he fired off a text message to tell Lola the general area
where they'd be. "I'll protect you."
That was an hour ago, maybe
more. They're walking and Hector is staring around and out of nowhere he
stabs Thomas in the side with one of his flannel-padded elbows and
holds out an arm to stop him going any closer. Like he's actually a
1960s-era housewife braking too hard and trying to keep his brood from
going through the windshield.
"What the fuuuck?" he whispers. "Why is she crying?"
[perc + alert!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 5, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )
Thomas Delacroix
"I've
always wanted my very own knight," Thomas had said back, falling fairly
easily into playful. And walking around has been markedly unmarred by
crazy moodiness. So far.
Thomas has had way too many hours of
dealing with crying for the last few weeks not to take an immediate step
toward the crying woman. He gets caught with an elbow and an arm and
he makes a soft little huffing sound, because that is not in the list of
things Thomas doesn't find a little odd. But he does stop, stepping
back off of Hector's arm though he stays close enough for whispering.
"I was going to go find that out...." Was has a very slight emphasis. Now, he's apparently waiting.
[And, laughable Per+Alert]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (2, 7, 9) ( success x 2 )
Lola Hawkes
Of
course the tiff hadn't gone on for long. Hector and Lola knew one
another well enough to have a sense of balance, not unlike a well
practiced walk across the rope bridge. She had allowed him his time,
and certain enough she'd received a text while out on her dirtbike
patroling the farther northern side of the Bawn.
She'd responded
asking how it had went, and that was that. They were talking again.
Hector was bound to the city by his word and duty, and Lola remained at
The Homestead for exactly the same reason, but her dedication toward the
well-being of the Older Brother of the two Septs in the region. They
couldn't visit in person, but they would text, at one point call to
talk. Water under the bridge.
This morning Lola was getting ready
to head out on her patrol, having planned to meet Eddie for lunch. She
was about to mount her dirtbike when she got the text: stop being a schoolgirl.
He was calling her out, and what kind of woman would she be to not step to the challenge?
Hector
had been met with the same warmth that he always was, and Thomas was
met with a grin and an up-nod. And now they walked the three of them,
Lola a couple steps in front of the men because she was more comfortable
here, able to use her long stride and keep her eyes on the landscape as
she was so accustomed to. She wore shorts, simple walking shoes, and a
green tank top.
She'd stopped first, staring at the display up
ahead. A woman, dressed in ceremonial marital white, weeping openly
into her hands.
"Left at the alter?" Lola mused, but squinted about suspiciously anyways.
[Perception 3 + Alertness 2]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 7, 7, 9) ( success x 3 )
Twilight
Dear
Lola: ...that wedding dress went out of style in the late 1970s.
There is something dark on the hem of the dress, like blood or motor
oil. And though she's is sobbing, oh yes that is the noise, her shoulders do not seem to move at all.
Twilight
???
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 5, 5, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Twilight
They
were strung out, a trio on the street. Not a particularly unusual trio
either except perhaps for Lola's confidence at the dark in that hour,
striding out ahead of the other too. Thomas is ready to head over -
past that Subaru, across that parking lot, toward the white truck set in
the wash bay with no attendant other than a crying (jilted?) bride -
when Hector pulls him back. A hand on the shoulder.
Why is she crying?
Who the fuck knows.
But
there's enough whispered conversation between them all that the woman
looks up. She has lifted her veil from her face and has a handful of
crumpled tissues and something is shining on her cheeks, tracks of tears
gone scintillating, brilliant in the dim, dingy amber lighting of the
Elephant Car Wash.
Her eyes are wholly and entirely black. Swallowed up by it.
The
rest of her features seem to ... lack definition, as if she had
forgotten to put on her face today. As if she had merely drawn from the
idea of eyes and nose and mouth like an impressionist, allowing them to fill in the rest.
She seems them,
looking at her.
The sobbing stops and the black-eyed bride sniffles, wipes her nose on - no, not tissues, a handkerchief -
"You can see me." Can they hear her voice? Or does it just sound in their minds.
"You have to help. He won't let them go."
Then
she runs down the steps of that metal stair and circles back between
the white truck, cutting through the wash bay and beyond.
Hector Ghosh
"WAIT!"
Hector
growls out his frustration at the woman's flight and maybe he ought to
be a little more freaked out by the fact that her eyes are a solid color
and her features are smeared out. Make some noise beyond that
near-animal snarl.
It isn't a noise Lola is used to hearing him make in his human skin but he's had a rough go lately.
"Check the truck," he says and shoves Thomas towards it before he goes hauling ass after her.
Thomas Delacroix
In
moments like this one, it becomes evident to anyone who knows Thomas
that Hector is definitely on the list of people he's willing to take
about anything from. Not because he obeys, moving quickly toward the
front of the truck to pull open the passenger door, but because the
shove gets not even a flicker of annoyance.
There is a glance,
only a glance to see what Lola is doing. Thomas heard the story Hector
told at the moot. He's been around Lola. And he is familiar with kin
who can handle themselves. He just wants to know what she's doing and
where she's headed.
Lola Hawkes
Do you know what
Lola would have been great at, if she were born as she'd been raised to
think she was? She would have made a wonderful Front Guard. She was a
sturdy woman, with hard determination written through her features,
having only in the past year or so shed the pissed off indignance that
she mistook for being tough. Now, that confidence and stubborn will
were balanced with a good (enough) nature.
She would have been
marvelous at diving into a battle claws first, ripping and tearing and
cutting a path for the rest of her pack through whatever may bar them
from their goal. She would have howled victory to the moon every month,
every week if she could.
But it simply wasn't to be.
Despite
that, many of these characteristics of a Good Ahroun still played out
in the Kinfolk left behind instead. Her shoulders and spine stiffened
all at once when she recognized what she was seeing across the street,
and a heartbeat later that confirmed when the weeping spectre lifted her
head and showed her face.
Hector snarled, shoved Thomas toward
the truck to get him moving. Thomas rushed up to the truck, but glanced
back to Lola to see what move she would make. He'd find the her eyes
on his, but for a moment, before they rolled after Hector and she went
racing along with. The revolver tucked uncomfortably, bulkily under the
loose-fit tank top that she was wearing was pulled loose as she went.
Twilight
The
truck: white and has been white-washed several times to cover the
graffiti it picks up here and there. The plates are Arizona plates.
The cab itself is dark and is locked. Hanging from the rear-view
mirror, a pine-tree shaped air freshener and a set of rosary beads.
What looks like a set of rosary beads, in the dark, from this angle, outside of the locked cab.
--
Follow
Hector through the wash bay and the truck again: there is a handprint
on the liftgate and the liftgate itself is open. It gives when Thomas
reaches for it, rolls up. Dark inside and no noise nothing to make his
shoulders tense though they must tense opening the back of a strange
truck in the washbay of the Elephant Car Wash while an Uktena chases a
faceless black-eyed -
- oh god is there a stench.
Piss and shit and fear and maybe a little bit of rot beneath it.
He rumbles the door open further. The lighting is off see but there's not much inside. No bodies which may be what he expected
with the scent-without-noise. Just a few cheap, crumpled plastic
waterbottles. An old blanket. A yellow-haired rag-doll missing one
eye.
--
Hector and Lola cut through the wash bay, past the
truck as Thomas tries out each door in turn. The woman does not flicker
but see you think she's going to flicker, like a channel on a station
you hardly remember, sliding through the desert night to a third-hand
black and white television set in the second-to-last room from the end
of the strip in a nameless motel in a place you're sure you've never
been before.
Says nothing but she's leading them or herding them or just moving and is out-of-reach.
--
Federal
is bisected by all these small side streets that turn into narrow
little residential neighborhoods bookended by commercial strips and this
street is no different. The Elephant Car Wash covers half a block and
is on the corner and the streetsign is absent but: half-a-block of
Elephant Car Wash and its broken asphalt lot, then the alley, then the
dark street, small houses, wood siding, one story mostly. Surrounded by
chainlink fences and windows covered by security bars. Built in the
1950s, the 1960s.
It has been all downhill since then.
The closest house has commercial signs all over it in Spanish.
EL DEFENSOR DEL HISPANO
promises a hand-lettered sign on the roof of the carport. The yard is
dead, dried grass and the windows are covered with wrought-iron bars and
the gate to the driveway is closed but there is also a big green sign
promising tax preparation for $24.99.
The bride is headed there.
Is herding them there?
Who can fucking tell but: she moves through the fence and disappears. Then flickers back into view from a distance, seated on the front steps of the house.
Crying.
Hector Ghosh
This
is and is not relevant: Hector ran cross country in high school. Was
more involved in theater than extracurriculars and fucking ran because
he couldn't sit still and he was good at it. Smoking pot and
skateboarding and being too loud after curfew when his First Change
started coming for him gave him practice running from the cops. Fear of
his Bengali cardiologist father's wrath more powerful than fear of the
law but the law had handcuffs.
So when the void-eyed wraith flees
the Uktena does not have to push himself to keep up after her. He runs
like he is used to and misses just going and whatever obstacles thrust
themselves between him and her he leaps over or sidesteps and he's like a
fucking long-haired gazelle.
He doesn't speak Spanish. Has no
idea what EL DEFENSOR DEL HISPANO means but the bride zaps like she
doesn't need gravity and a musculoskeletal system and lungs to move.
Lola
is no slouch. She keeps up with him but before they're at the house he
realizes they're far away from Thomas and he skids to a halt and whirls
around.
"Fuck," he says to Lola. "Go get Thomas." If she even
hesitates even a second his eyes go wide. He hasn't shaved his goddamned
face since the last time he saw Lola and his hair is pulled back but
falling out of its binding and the moon is dark but his Rage is high and
his back is up. His spine has hardened. If she hesitates even a second:
"Go!"
The bride is herding them.
Not until Lola has gone does Hector approach the fence. He does not go through it.
"Don't cry," he says to the ghost. "We're here to help. Who's 'he'?"
Lola Hawkes
Strong
legs beat off the pavement, one arm pumped to help her maintain speed,
to keep up with the stutter-shutter ghost woman that moved, ran, so
smooth and so jerky all at once. It reminded Lola of doodling cartoons
in the corners of notebooks and flipping the pages quickly enough that
they moved like a movie.
They cut through the car wash's lot,
along the sidewalk, Lola keeping pace with Hector's longer legs without
too much of a struggle. On, up to a parking lot in disrepair, with a
squat one-story building quite nearby, with a driveway and carport and a
sign tacked up like an afterthought. They didn't quite meet the fence,
though, because Hector put heels down and halted, and Lola moves a foot
past him, but halts and looks to him, to see why he stopped. Her gun
was in her right hand, finger at the safety, ready.
He said for
her to go get Thomas. She hesitated, of course, eyes hardening for a
second like she couldn't disagree more. But the force and urgency when
he presses for her to go wasn't met with backtalk. She supported
Hector, and wanted him to be a good Alpha for his pack. If she couldn't
lay faith on his orders, how could she expect anyone else to?
So, again, sneakers hit pavement, and Lola was taking off back toward the carwash with the elephant washing a dick-truck.
Thomas Delacroix
Thomas
takes a quick step back from the truck, one hand rising up to hover in
front of his nose for a few seconds, his eyes stinging a little from the
wash of air from the truck and fixing briefly on the doll. He swallows
and then slams the liftgate back down. The last thing they need at the
moments is someone stumbling on that mess.
He takes two steps
back, watching the truck he's pretty sure is deserted, then heads in the
direction that Hector and Lola went. He shakes his head when he meets
up with Lola. "No people. No bodies. Something is very wrong though."
There is a pause long enough for a breath. "A doll. If-" And
Thomas' eyes, too wide and too young look right into Lola's for a second
like the entire world is going to. Break. His. Heart.
And then he shakes his head and scans around them for Hector.
Lola Hawkes
"I hate to break it to ya, Kid," advised Lola sagely.
She
took just enough time to clap a hand to Thomas's shoulder-- not unlike
how Hector was in the habit of doing with him, except it seemed less
playful and something closer to sympathetic and a 'keep it together'.
"C'mon,
she's stopped up at this shack. Hector's there." And with that, she
turned and ran back, but this time with lighter footsteps-- brisk, but
not sprinting and pounding the soles of her feet against the pavement to
make herself faster. Now she was a little more careful and aware of
what she might clue off by the sounds of thumping thudding feet outside.
Twilight
Hector
speaks to the woman and she's sitting there face in her hands and
sobbing on the steps. Making enough noise that whoever is inside (the
living room window is open; there's music drifting out of the open
window, quiet in the night air. There are lights on but the curtains
are drawn and whoever is inside is a dark shadow against the blinds but:
but but but
beneath the dulcet tones of Jimmy Wakely singing Moon over Montana through the magic revolutions of an old wax disc, scratched up and singing-vague,
the
low, warning growl of a dog. Something with a deep, resonant voice and
a mean disposition beaten into him. Rottweiler, maybe, or a pit bull.
Then a warning bark.
"Shut the fuck up."
A slurred voice says in English - yes English - to the goddamned dog.
Throws something at it, which is heavy enough to make the needle skip
back to the beginning of the song.
liiiike the lonely prairie
--
Suddenly, the crying woman looks up; fixes Hector with her coal-black eyes; and just pushes through the walls of the house.
Hector Ghosh
Shut the fuck up.
"Oh," Hector says.
That answers that question.
A
glance over his shoulder and no sign of the Lord or his kinswoman but
Lola saw the house where they stopped and she knows he's young and
assured of his own immortality. Knows he has no battle scars on his body
because she's seen him with no shirt on more times than she can
probably count. Suspects he's depressed and possibly guilt-ridden and
suicidal anyway.
He pushes through the gate and tiptoes around the
side of the house, intent upon peering through the windows before he
waltzes on inside.
[dex + stealth: SHUT UP DOG. +1 stealth because Fog.]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 5, 7, 7, 9) ( success x 3 )
Twilight
Dog: woof!
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (4, 7, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )
Twilight
???
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 4, 10) ( success x 1 )
Thomas Delacroix
The
touch to his shoulder gets a little nod from Thomas and then he heads
in the direction that she indicates, following her. Thomas isn't even
running marathons, but he's in relatively good shape. He is not,
however, particularly quiet when when running, his footfalls might not
be quite like the elephants on the sign where they began this little
adventure, but even at a slightly slowed pace they are definitely more
audible than Lola's.
Twilight
The dog starts
barking again, more urgently this time, this succession of barks that
feel like a staccato trio at first, then rev up again, into a sort of
surging fury.
RUFFRUFFRUFF.
RUFFRUFFRUFF.
RUFFRUFFRUFF!
--
A moment's hesitation. A moment's cock-eared attention paid to something beyond the bowl of take out Pho with an eyeball floating amidst the noodles. A thoughtful slurp
on a mostly full can of beer so goddamned cheap-ass the can merely says
BEER on it so you know what the hell it is, but nothing extra.
This spinal, articulate tension you can feel as the stranger behind the curtain listens and then,
"SHUT THE FUCK UP I SAID."
What Hector sees:
is
a dimly lit living room with cheap burnt-orange carpeting and avocado
furniture. A console television covered in dust in one corner, a
shirtless man of moderate size with a prominent stomach and a face set
into that stomach - yes a face, eyes and ears and holes for a nose and a
leering, lolling mouth - seated in an old recliner with a television
tray-table, the folding, plastic find in front of him.
One bite
of Pho goes to his regular mouth, the next to his stomach mouth. The
television is on, but flickering, the sound turned to nothing.
Every time the record ends, he reaches over and resets it at the beginning.
There are also: two dogs. One is a pit bull. The other is a lhasa apso. Both look rather scaly.
Hector Ghosh
Because
otherwise he is going to just burst through the window and jack the guy
up against the wall and start asking questions the young Galliard ducks
down below the window so the guy cannot see him and looks around for a
secondary entrance into the house. A basement door or a window.
He
wears a lot of jewelry. This worked once before. If he goes in there
before Lola and Thomas get back Lola is going to beat the hell out of
him. Hector tilts his wrist to glimpse at the piece of mirror stitched
onto one of the bracelets and tries to glance across.
[gnosis: WHAT UP UMBRA]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 4, 4, 7) ( success x 1 )
Lola Hawkes
Thomas
and Lola come up to the corner of the chainlink-enclosed lot, and Lola
held out an arm to gesture to Thomas to stop. Were he to comply, she
would then swat him solidly in the chest with the back of her hand,
making a dull (but, mind you, quiet) 'thump!' sound in his chest cavity. That same hand would then move, finger to her lips, and she'd frown scoldingly at him.
Heavy-footed motherfucker anyway.
She'd
flip the safety off of her gun and turn about again. The dog was
barking, loudly now, and a bellowing voice came from out of the house
telling it to shut the fuck up. In English. Her eyes hopped up to the
sign above the carport, written in Spanish, and she wrinkled her nose
suspiciously.
That, however, was the least of her worries. When
she crept forward more, crouched down so her head wouldn't peek over the
top of the fence, holding to the shadows, she was able to glimpse
Hector looking down at his wrist as though he were trying to find the
time. She could see him for a second or two before he simply blipped
out of sight. From this reality, into another.
"Fucker," she muttered, and pressed forward to access the yard.
[Dexterity 3 + Stealth 2]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 4, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )
Twilight
Woof!
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 6, 6, 8) ( success x 3 )
Twilight
???
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 4) ( fail )
Thomas Delacroix
Thomas,
in the kind of display that got him exiled from home in the first
place, does stop when Lola gestures for him to. Hector gets to push him
without any fuss, but the swat gets slightly narrowed eyes. 'Don't
push that too far,' those eyes say, but there is no real anger in them
that's really directed at her.
He waits a few seconds, then tries
to move quietly across the yard. Unseen. Like a ninja. He can hope,
but he really isn't that kind of Shadow Lord either.
[Dex 3; no stealth! +1diff (or that was how we rolled last scene so I'm doing it here and you can correct how you like)]
Dice: 3 d10 TN7 (3, 6, 10) ( success x 1 )
Twilight
Woof!
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 4, 8, 8) ( success x 2 )
Twilight
???
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (3, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Twilight
The umbra comes slowly - and only very
slowly - into focus for Hector. The gauntlet feels like molasses, the
otherside is distant and thick, as if it had been wrapped in taffy. But
as it comes into focus he can see clearly at least two scrags
scruffling through the black-stained, oily ooze of the substance of the
house.
--
Meanwhile, in this world -
the pit bull
redoubles its deep, resonant bark, nevermind the blow it sustained last
time, and then the tiny, scaly little lhasa apso which has, we will
discover, both the tail and tongue of a snake, joins in with a
remarkably irritating high-pitched yappy little bark.
The
man-with-two-faces finally glances up from his delicious meal of general
BEER-brand beer and pho and puts down the spoon and his second-mouth
snaps irritated at his fingers like he is actively trying to eat himself and finally, finally, finally looks up. Grunts.
Listens
and lurches to his feet. He is not particularly large but he moves as
if he were a sumo wrestler, Hector can see, as if he weighed five
hundred pounds.
And he grabs for a shotgun and starts toward the front door.
Twilight
Two-face: +4
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (3) ( fail )
Twilight
ze dogs: +6
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (7) ( success x 1 )
Hector Ghosh
Though he does not swear again the other two can see the flinch and the agitation on Hector's face. Shit,
he doesn't say. But he stays hunkered down as he moves and as he moves
he sees them. Passes by the fence to relay intel to them before they go
barreling in.
"One huge guy," he says in a useless whisper. "Two dogs. Come on."
He
doesn't want to bottleneck at the door so Hector rushes to get to it
before the He does. Tries the knob and if it does not work he kicks the
damned thing in. Rushes inside ahead of the other two and then he shifts
to lupus because fuck it. That also worked before.
[+9]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )
Lola Hawkes
Thankfully,
Lola was reassured when what she was certain was Hector snapping out of
the world turned out to be untrue. He came back, just as quick, and
turned to hurry back across the lawn, to meet them at the fence.
Thomas's
warning stare in reaction to her swatting at his chest like she knew
war better than he did was recognized for what it was-- not angry, but
drawing a sand in the line. Don't fucking do that. She'd consider
minding it, depending on how well he handled himself here tonight. She
respected deeds more than stations, herself. For now, though, she just
squinted back at him, then turned her face to greet Hector when he got
to the fence.
He gave them a tally of what they were up against,
then urged them to come forward. Lola began to do so, continuing at the
low crouch, but her efforts to hide herself were momentarily cast to
the wayside when Hector kicked the door open. She stood up, snarled
out: "God damnit, Hector!" and jerked forward like she was going to charge after him.
But
she stopped, spun around, and put herself in front of Thomas, caused
him to barrel into her if she had to if that's what it took to catch his
attention. She wouldn't smack or hit him, wouldn't grab his shirt and
pull him to her by that either. But she would put hands to his
shoulder, chest, arm, whatever to grab his attention, grab his eyes,
make sure he was going to hear what she had to say.
"Back him up, okay? I can't take hits like you guys. I'll snipe him from around back, okay? Go!"
And that was the plan Lola would go with unless Thomas insisted otherwise.
[Init + 6]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (2) ( fail )
Thomas Delacroix
This
is about to get loud and the street is dark anyway. Thomas does not
follow Hector to the door, instead he rushes at one of the windows and
tries to dive through it. Because...what is a little bit of glass
laceration to a Garou? Really?
[+5]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (5) ( fail )
Twilight
Inits:
Two-face: 7
Lola: 8
Thomas: 10
Dogs: 13
Hector: 18
Twilight
Glass laceration:
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (8, 8) ( success x 2 )
Thomas Delacroix
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (4, 4, 6) ( success x 1 )
Twilight
So:
instead of a fat man pulling a stained t-shirt over his second face
inset into his stomach and grabbing a shotgun and heading to the front
door with have a fat man pulling a stained t-shirt over his second face
inset into his stomach and grabbing a shotgun as: one Garou charges in
the front door; and another breaks through a glass window. And a
kinswoman goes around to snipe from behind.
Two-face: 1. Shotgun. Hector.
Lola Hawkes
[Shoot dogs-- splitting shot for two bullets, aiming to take the Pit Bull down first]
Lola Hawkes
[You know what sounds better? Not wasting time and bullets on mutts. Go help the Boys-- run around for the back!]
Thomas Delacroix
[Shift to hispo (1 Rage)/Attack closest dog (bite)/roll to heal]
Lola Hawkes
[Per
ST discretion: We can be in the back already. So! Redeclaring for
forcing entry through back window. Let's hope we don't cut anything
important]
Twilight
Pit bull: Bite Thomas!
Lhasa Apso: 1. Bite Hector. Rage 1: Tail lash Thomas!
Hector Ghosh
1:
R1: both bites on the Lhasa Apso holy fucking shit.
Hector Ghosh
[dex + brawl: CHOMP]
Dice: 9 d10 TN5 (3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 5, 7, 7, 8) ( success x 7 )
Hector Ghosh
[+6]
Dice: 12 d10 TN6 (2, 5, 5, 6, 6, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 9 )
Twilight
Lhasa Apso SOAK:
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (4, 6) ( success x 1 )
Twilight
x.x
Twilight
Pit bull: biting Thomas!
Dice: 5 d10 TN5 (1, 2, 4, 4, 9) ( success x 1 )
Twilight
Damage!
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 6, 6, 10) ( success x 3 )
Thomas Delacroix
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 4, 5, 7, 7) ( success x 2 )
Twilight
Glass shards: attack Lola!
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (7, 8) ( success x 2 )
Lola Hawkes
[Soak!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 5, 5, 8) ( success x 1 )
Thomas Delacroix
[Bite a pitbull]
Dice: 6 d10 TN5 (1, 2, 2, 7, 7, 9) ( success x 3 )
Thomas Delacroix
[Dmg]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 4, 8, 8, 8, 9) ( success x 4 )
Twilight
Soak!
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (2, 8, 10) ( success x 2 )
Thomas Delacroix
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (4, 10) ( success x 1 )
Twilight
Two-Face: dex + firearms
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (5, 5, 5, 9) ( success x 1 )
Twilight
Damage:
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (2, 6, 6, 7, 7, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 7 )
Hector Ghosh
[aw, COME ON!]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 8, 10, 10) ( success x 3 )
Thomas Delacroix
Dice: 6 d10 TN8 (1, 2, 3, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )
Hector Ghosh
REEEEEEGENNNNNNNN
Dice: 5 d10 TN8 (4, 5, 6, 6, 8) ( success x 1 )
Twilight
Inits:
Two-face: 7
Lola: 8
Thomas: 10
Pitt Bull: 13
Hector: 18
Twilight
Two-Face: Bite Hector.
Hector Ghosh
R1: +1 diff switching targets to two face
Dice: 9 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 5, 7, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 6 )
Hector Ghosh
[+5]
Dice: 11 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 9 )
Twilight
Two-Face: SOAK
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )
Hector Ghosh
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 1, 5, 5, 9, 9) ( success x 2 )
Hector Ghosh
[+1]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 3, 3, 5, 10, 10) ( success x 2 )
Twilight
Two-face: BITE HECTOR.
Lola Hawkes
[Headshot-- the real head on top of the shoulders. Spending WP]
Thomas Delacroix
[1. Bite pit bull // Rage: Bite 2Face]
Twilight
Pit bull: BITE THOMAS.
Hector Ghosh
1:
R1:
R2: JESUS CHRIST BITE TWO FACE.
Hector Ghosh
CHOMP. -1 because ow.
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (5, 5, 7, 7, 9, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 6 )
Hector Ghosh
[+5]
Dice: 11 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 3, 3, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 6 )
Twilight
SOAK
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 4, 9) ( success x 1 )
Hector Ghosh
+2 dmg dice because beer
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (1, 7) ( success x 1 )
Twilight
Pitt bull: bite Thomas! -1 for wounds
Dice: 4 d10 TN5 (2, 3, 6, 10) ( success x 2 )
Twilight
Damage!
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 5, 6, 7, 8) ( success x 3 )
Thomas Delacroix
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 5, 7, 7, 8) ( success x 3 )
Lola Hawkes
[Headshot on Twoface: Dex 3 + Firearms 3; -2 diff for sneak attack, +2 diff for called shot, spending WP]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Lola Hawkes
[Damage [Lethal]: Base Dmg 6 + 2 suxx + 3 headshot bonus]
Dice: 11 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 4, 4, 4, 7, 7, 7, 7, 7) ( success x 5 )
Twilight
Two-face: SOAK
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 6, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )
Twilight
Two-face: x.x
Thomas Delacroix
[Bite Pitbull (-1 for teh dmg)]
Dice: 7 d10 TN5 (1, 1, 3, 7, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 4 )
Thomas Delacroix
[S6+3sux+2bite=11]
Dice: 11 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 6, 7, 8, 8, 10) ( success x 5 )
Twilight
Soak!
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 10) ( success x 1 )
Twilight
Pit: incap.
Twilight
The
two-faced man is lumbering to his feet, shotgun in hand when the trio
burst through windows and doors. Hector through the door: lupus.
Thomas through the window: homid. Glass is shattering. That fucking
record is stuck on a rut, keeps skipping back to the same line. Lola is
booking it around the house for a better angle and shattering a window
of her own when she hears the shotgun blast.
It takes - very,
very little time. Hector devours the snake-tailed Lhasa Apso in one
bite, but the put and the man with two-faces are more tenacious, tear
into Hector and Thomas before they are put down. Everyone in the room
is both blooded and bloodied. And that record is still pacing.
In their feral forms, Thomas and Hector can smell
other humans. Follow their noses to the basement doors, which are
heavily locked. An ordinary wooden door in the kitchen and then: a
steel security door.
The two-faced man has the keys; the stairs lead down into darkness.
They
find and presumably free: a four men, three woman, and one little
girl. Alive, locked in the blacked-out dark, terrified. Immigrants
all, who paid the snakehead to take them across the border, and ended
up... here.
There are also two corpses with them in the dark.
They never see the crying bride again.
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