There Wolf, There Castle [IC]

[trollthumper]

Nick raised his eyebrows. Huh. I knew there were werewolves in Freedom; should've figured I'd meet one sooner or later, he thought. Didn't expect him to be so... well, "Team Jacob," though.

"'Death Man' didn't exactly stand out on my business cards," he said to the werewolf. "You can call me Nick Cimitiere. Who might you be? And you got any idea what kind of wolves these guys are? Guessing they're not the wolf pelt type; otherwise, they might actually have some clothes on..."

[quotemyname]

He was rubbing the substance used for the tattoos between his fingers, Blood. Sweat. Something else. Sort of soft. Loose. Powdery. It is a strange smell. Sugar? No. Baking soda? Drugs? Likely a combination of the three. and then he stood to face Nick.

"My people give names based on observations. Nep-poa Lin-nie is no title. I could smell the traces of your arts nearly a mile off. It smells nearly as foul as this one." He made a motion towards Dead Head. "I mean no disrespect by this. As a wolf, the concepts of life, death, and their associated smells are deeply ingrained in me. Wolf knows that what is dead should lie. Not walk. Instinct tells me that creatures such as yourselves are by default unnatural. It is a hard habit to break."

He soldiered on, "My name is Thomas. I am known as Lukos to some. Whatever my name, I am this city's Alpha Wolf. I lead the pack of real Lycanthropes in this city. I also serve as it's protector in matters such as this." He motioned toward the bodies. "My job mostly consists of behind the scenes work. But in rare cases, things get out of hand and direct action must be taken. I cannot have voodoo spirits, je-rouge in their language, Red-Eye in ours, parading about my city. It is my city. In this respect it belongs to my pack. Though we are more than willing to share it with everyone that wishes no harm. It should be quite obvious that such an arrangement is mutually beneficial to all those involved."

"As for their clothes, that is actually par for the course for most Lycanthropes when they shift. I am the exception as I am wearing clothing enchanted by my grandfather, a Native American Spirit Walker. Not a Lycanthrope, as it happens." he preempted the question he thought was hanging in the air. "For now, we leave them here. They are in no danger, and in a matter of minutes they will wake. I suspect that they will remember nothing." He gazed at the rest of the assembled group, trying to guage their reactions and thoughts. He also took in their scents and smells in an attempt to figure out what he thought of them.

[Aoiroo]

Listening as the actual werewolf introduced himself, Sil sort of tried to filter through the logic until the end. Taking a step forward she held she glanced out down at the previous wolves they had kicked the heck out of,

"So these guys are gonna be pretty much useless the moment they come too? What does that leave us with exactly? Can you track whatever weird mojo possessed these guys to stalk the night in real fur coats, or are we going to have to go sniffing in the dark for some other weird magic infuzed creatures."

[quotemyname]

Leather. Paint. Aerosols. That costume was not all black once.

Thomas smiled as Sil spoke. "Your costume amuses me. I think you have good taste." He drew a gas mask from the inside of his jacket. He slipped the mask on over his head and tightened the straps. Once his headgear was in place, he zipped up the leather jacket. He too was now dressed darkly enough to easily blend in with a night time environment. Not unlike Sil.

His breath made strange sounds as it passed through the filter on the mask. "You a looking at the best tracker in this city. Sniffing in the night is actually exactly what we will be doing. I can track these creatures, and I do it by their scent. Wolves, even fake ones, have a very distinctive musk. If you know how to differentiate one wolf from another, telling a fake from a real is simple. To me, such things have become like breathing."

Now fully costumed, Lukos turned away from the group. "If there is nothing else, you may follow me to source of this," he paused, sparing a backward glance for the gangsters on the ground, "Epidemic. I have instructed certain members of my pack to meet us there. The should be able to provide adequate back up if it is needed."

[Quinn]

Crow's reaction to the werewolf was understandable surprise, and the same rune that flared when he hucked the fireball nearly came to blazing life again. Fortunately, the fact that he didn't try to nom them and was comparatively civil stayed his hand. The rune winked out, and the teenager shrugged, stepping up beside Nick and cracking his knuckles.

"Name's Crow. So we can track these things, and beating them down with blunt instrument's worked fine so far, but going off half-cocked isn't going to get us anywhere. When did these things first show up, just now? You call 'em voodoo spirits, je-rouge (he mangled the French rather badly here), can you tell us anything else about 'em other than the fact that they're big and furry?"

[Dr Archeville]

"My people give names based on observations. Nep-poa Lin-nie is no title. I could smell the traces of your arts nearly a mile off. It smells nearly as foul as this one." He made a motion towards Dead Head. "I mean no disrespect by this. As a wolf, the concepts of life, death, and their associated smells are deeply ingrained in me. Wolf knows that what is dead should lie. Not walk. Instinct tells me that creatures such as yourselves are by default unnatural. It is a hard habit to break."

Dead Head gave an 'eh, whaddayagonnado?' shrug.

The revenant (who smelled far better since last Lukos encountered him, an odd spiced rum scent overlaying the assorted aromas of death) had been looking over one of the gang members, tracing the air above the mark on his chest as he attempted to divine what it had been.

"Let's see, if that squiggly bit went like this... and those were stars, not streaks... an' that one was s'posed t'be two lines, like that... yeah... yeah, that fits, what with her bein' a patron'a werewolves."

"Yo, Nick!" He turned to face the heroic necromancer, turning his head more than should be possible for a normal human. "I think this is Marinette's veve here. But if it is, how'd these jokers get up wit' 'er? An' how many more ya think there are? An' what the heck're they up to?"

Mutt, meanwhile, was busy sniffing around Lukos. Though bone dry, he smelled like a wet dog to the werewolf. Strangely, Mutt's scent did not convey any particulars to the breed of dog he was -- it was just "wet dog" smell.

[Ecalsneerg]

"So what you're saying is that your Earthen werewolf myth is not, in fact, a myth?" said Scholar quizzically. "Your Internet really has a lot of misleading information." She focused hard on her shapeshifting matrix, looking for some sort of form that would vaguely correspond with a wolf shape. "But I think I may be able to help you track these creatures. Wait a second before we get moving."

She closed her eyes, and slowly began changing shape. Her clothes melded into her skin as blood red scales started shooting out of her flesh, overlapping into a thin layer of armour. Her closed eyes swelled out into bulbous yellow blobs, unblinking with huge dark slits running down the middle of them. She dropped to all fours on hands and feet morphing into grey-green hooves. Finally, her nose and jaw stretched out, forming a fanged muzzle.

[trollthumper]

Nick's eyebrows rose so high it was a wonder they didn't fly off his face. "That's... certainly something," he said. "Makes some of the barghests I've seen look downright cuddly. Just don't get too close to Cerberus; he might try to court you."

He then turned to Dead Head. "Marinette?" he said. "You're right; that does share elements with her veve, and if these are je-rouge, it'd make sense. Seems like tiny stakes for the mother of liberation, but I guess some folks will see oppression in every slight." He looked back to the rest of the group. "Marinette is one of the loa. She's known for being blood-thirsty, slightly unhinged... and the patron of werewolves. Looks like someone in the Rojos managed to make a deal with her, and she may have brought her beneficiaries along. Which means we could be dealing with an entire street gang turned into werewolves... and their patron goddess."

He shook his head. "Just another night in Freedom," he said. "Let's see where the trail leads."

[Quinn]

Crow's reaction to the metamorphosis and the talking zombie was mostly understandable surprise. Thankfully, the shadows in his hood and the bandanna masked his dumbfounded expression, and he got over it swiftly. Voodoo, loa, he hated that kind of thing. Always with the blood and the chickens and the dolls...but then, most of what he knew about that kind of thing he got from junk novels, so maybe he was being a bit judgemental. That Nick guy seemed to be pretty knowledgable about it, same with the dead man walkin'. These thoughts ran through his head fairly swiftly, and he came to a decision. Crow spoke, a bit of the brogue slipping into his voice (he was still a bit rattled).

"I'd hate to see what happens when things get out of the ordinary, then. You lead the way, chief, and they'll never see me coming."

And on that note, he vanished without a sound.

[Aoiroo]

If visible it would of been noticed that Silhouette's eyebrows also made a noticable jump at the sudden shapeshifting of the only other girl in the group. Though not as much as the prospect of facing off against a god. It meant a lot of things to her, parting from the normal trend she usually stuck to humanoids. Though she handled these werewolves working with the others who seemed to pretty much know what there doing, though a question still hung in her mind,

Did I put enough coins in the meter for this side quest?

Letting out a sigh she glanced at them before looking over at Crow's disappearing act,

"If we're dealing with wolves, it's a fat lot of good disappearing going to do you since they'll probably smell you three yards away."

Scratching the back of her head she glanced around,

"If we're dealing with a large group, best finish it quickly, less time they have to prepare a counter attack the better so lead the way."

[trollthumper]

"My thoughts exactly," Nick said. He turned to Scholar and Lukos. "Lead the way."

The two trackers had no difficulty following the scent of the assembled gangsters. It wove through main streets, back alleys, and shops, with each trail woven close together -- like the Rojos had been moving in pack formation. The trail slowly wound its way through to an underdeveloped section of the West End. It was here that the trail merged with many trails that were extremely similar, burnished in blood and the musk of an alpha predator.

The trail crossed over from one lone pack to a large gathering in the area around an abandoned apartment building. Rusted bars covered the window, and broken boards hung to the side of the front door. A mark was cut into the side of the front arch, perhaps a demolition crew's surveyor mark -- but whatever surveillance work had been done must've been abandoned a while back.

"What is it with these things and rundown buildings?" Nick said to himself. "Wickedness never seems to take place in well-lit condos." He turned to the others. "I could go in and survey the place astrally. Give us some idea of what we're dealing with."

[Aoiroo]

She smiled under her mask at the snide remark about the location,

"Probably because most condo owners don't bother to pay for the extra insurance against crazed possessed not-werewolves. Though, it is covered if you pay the extra fifty bucks for paranormal or supernatural coverage."

Taking a few steps forwards she pressed a hand against the nearest wall flattening herself against it leaving her darkened silhouette looking out towards them.

"I'll take a look at well, I'm pretty sneaky myself, plus I have no problems seeing in the dark."

Moving forward at a reasonable speed, she was absolutely silent as she scanned through the darkness of the building.

[trollthumper]

Nick turned to Silhouette. "I was planning on projecting my consciousness, not walking there in the flesh," he said. "You're welcome to come along, but if I need to pull back, I'll be coming right back here. Which means you'd be left alone with whatever might've given me cause to pull back. Then again, given what I saw you do earlier, I bet you could keep hidden easily. But it's your choice."

[Dr Archeville]

Dead Head barely batted an eye at the guy in the Ogham-marked hoodie.

Would it've killed ya t'introduce yerself t'us? Eh, kids t'day....

When the tiny brunette turned into a shadow of herself, that drew a response. "Oooh..."

Wonder how she does that? 't'ain't shadow-magic, least no kind I's familiar with.

The revenant knelt beside the great black mastiff beside him. "Ya wanna go in, boy?"

"Ruff!"

"Nah, nah, it'll be easy for ya!"

Dead Head looked up to Nick, who did know what the dog could do, then to the others and explained. "Mutt here's a spirit-dog, can go as invisible & intangible as a ghost. Might be able to hear or sniff out things neither'a you can."

[Aoiroo]

She let out a laugh before saying in a slight accent,

"Do not worry, I am very very sneaky."

Looking over at the dog she tried not to look for two long since it wasn't the most pleasant sight,

"Go for it, dogs can always find other dogs, or at least, fake dogs. Ahh screw it, technicalities or not I'm just gonna call them werewolves. So, off we go."

Taking a good few steps she took the lead while remaining completely silent.

[trollthumper]

"Sounds like a plan," Nick said to himself. "But just in case..." He sat down against a wall, and his body went limp. His consciousness, on the other hand, stirred itself from the body and flew off into the night, following behind Silhouette and Mutt. That was harder than it sounded -- one clung to the shadows in a darkened outfit, and the other one was invisible. But he had a general sense of their trail, even if he didn't know exactly where they were.

The halls of the building were rotting and decayed, punched full of holes and covered in gang signs -- the Rojos were predominant, but occasionally a sign from some gang that had come and gone stuck out. Nick could hear raucous shouting at the end of the hall. He moved forward, and found himself in a grand, abandoned chamber. A staircase spiraled upwards, disappearing into two separate wings. Ruined plush chairs, the ones that hadn't been knocked over or torn up, ringed what must have been a lobby once upon a time.

So perhaps an old hotel, Nick thought. Or maybe luxury suites. His eyes drifted to the Rojos, who were joining in a strange dance. To Nick, it seemed like a combination between a mosh pit and the ecstatic dancing of a houngan. Despite the lack of heat in the building and the winter chill outside, none of the Rojos seemed to be wearing more than shorts and shoes.

From the shadows of the upper halls, a woman descended. She was on Latin descent, and her face was beautiful... and sunken. The rest of her looked like a walking poster for the dangers of anorexia -- skin clung tight to frail arms and legs that nevertheless supported her weight, and her clothes hung off of her like a coat on a rack. A madness danced in her eyes, and her nails reflected the moonlight. As she descended, she barked like a dog in an echo that could be heard over the tumult of the celebration.

Well, they don't call her "Marinette of the Dry Arms" for nothing. Still, I've never seen one of the loa influence a host like this. Must be a long-term arrangement...

"Children!" Her voice pierced the night. "Oh, such beautiful children. You wish to run, to be free. I know. Tonight, we break the chain! Tonight, we push back against those who would take your land! Tonight, we slay the men who would put you into bondage! Tonight, this town runs red with blood!"

A howl of gratitude went up amongst the Rojos. Even when they weren't being actively possessed, they'd developed a lupine mentality.

"And we shall --" Marinette cut off her monologue as she stopped to smell the air. "I smell... stranger."

Nick pulled on the silver cord connecting him to his body, and ended up back against the wall. "She's got a scent," he said. He turned to Lukos. "There's about fifteen Rojos in there, and it sounds like they're all one step away from breaking the leash. Think your pack could take them?"

[Quinn]

Crow did his usual appearing act, stepping out of a handy shadow and nodding at the others. His mind was already awhirl with schemes, and he quietly sat down to ponder.

"Numbers confirmed, did a bit of scouting from the upper galleries. Bulk of them look like the roughnecks from earlier, all fur and claw, no brains. Pack leader's a female, definitley more than one tenant upstairs, and she's talking blood. Gimme a sec, I'll hash out a plan of attack."

The upper galleries were a definite option, beasts like that never reacted well to attacks from above. The stairs'd also provide a bottleneck, force them to hit the group in twos and threes. Spellslingers could hurl whatever they did best from the upper floors as well, and the entire ceiling could be brought down in a pinch with the right application of force. Could scatter them, or do a whole load of teleports to mess up their scent...His head popped up at that one, and he grinned.

"Heh. I think I can screw up their noses just a leetle bit."

[trollthumper]

From inside the building, Silhouette and Mutt could see the Rojos raising their noses to the air, sniffing in all directions. They tore off to search for the trail when Marinette let out a harsh screech. "He's gone, whoever he is," she said. "Can't you children smell it fading? But others still remain! Find them!"

She pointed to a group of the Rojos. "And you four," she said, "secure the territory! If one's here, then there will no doubt be others!"

[Aoiroo]

Silhouette had been moving almost the moment the mummified mystic realized they weren't alone. Given, it sort of ruined the element of surprise, but it did have an advantage. Several smaller groups of wolves were much easier to take down than the whole big cluster of them. Divide and conquer, however the division was looking for her by her scent. Which sort of sucked since airtight her suite was not, it was only a matter of time and her sweaty palms weren't making it, hey, that might work.

Still moving it wasn't much an effort to remove each of her gloves, which were like always sweaty and smelly after a night of running around and beating on stuff. Dropping one down the stairwell, and the other down an abandoned elevator shaft, she moved to the shoes, which were admittably less easy to do while moving, and far less pleasant as it meant going forward with a bare foot, but decided it was worth it as she pulled one of the shoes off and it up into a crack in the ceiling to the next floor. So now she was a shadow with pale hands and a foot showing, but it wasn't really that noticable as she was still incredibly quiet, and in constant movement as she circled the room a bit more as she waited for the thin floaty woman to be alone. She didn't know her chances knocking out a loa goddess, but if she could keep an element of surprise.

[Quinn]

Crow rapidly detailed his scheme to the others as he came up with it, mentioning the key points in the lobby. The wolves were no tactical geniuses, keeping them occupied and overscenting the area would bamboozle them nicely, leaving them open for an ambush. He grinned as he tapped his forelock.

"Just give me a few minutes, and I'll send them right out."

He vanished. Inside the building, a voice came from one of the upper galleries, and a figure in black leaned on the railing overlooking the wolves and their mistress. The voice was friendly and amiable, with an Irish brogue.

"Weeeeell nao, whatever happened t'the laws of hospitality? Didnae even bother t'clean up before ah arrived."

The figure stepped back and vanished, reappearing abruptly in one of the ruined plush chairs, relaxing.

"Though I'll say this, the decor is absolutely beautiful. Early crazed cultist? Late furball whack-job?"

A whisper in the wind. Hanging from an upper railing. Come on, heroes, I'm setting her up beautifully for ya...let's hope they stick to the plan.

"Were those your puppies ah thrashed earlier in the West End? So sorry, didnae know they were yers. You can pick 'em up at the pound downtown, that's where they take all the mutts."

Another vanish, but he didn't reappear. Instead, mocking laughter came from every corner, up top, down below, from a nearby doorway. Flashes of a black coat whipping around a corner, a rude gesture from a doorway, every which way. The figure finally reappeared, lounging on the upper chandelier and looking down with smiling eyes.

"I'm sorry, am I annoyin' you? Vexing you? Drivin' ya stark ravin' bonkers? Awfully hard to catch a bird in flight, innit?"

He stepped off the chandelier, falling straight towards the wolves' claws, and vanished right before he reached them. A voice came from everywhere and nowhere yet again.

"Catch me if y'can, eldrich bitch. Or are y'too cowardly t'do it y'self?"

Mocking laughter filled the room yet again, echoing off the walls.

[trollthumper]

The possessed woman let out a shriek of unearthly fury. Before Crow's very eyes, she leapt the length of the staircase up to the second floor. "You think this can do this to me, little man? In my home? To my children? I will find you, and leave you as an example to all those who would keep my get down." She turned to face the Rojos. "Find them and kill them!"

The Rojos let loose a loud howl, and before Crow's eyes, transformed into monstrous breeds of man and wolf. They let loose a howl that would rattle the heavens and dashed from the main room.

Outside, the howl caught the ears of Nick Cimitiere. "Looks like trouble's coming this way," he said. "Everyone get ready!"

[quotemyname]

Nick pulled on the silver cord connecting him to his body, and ended up back against the wall. "She's got a scent," he said. He turned to Lukos. "There's about fifteen Rojos in there, and it sounds like they're all one step away from breaking the leash. Think your pack could take them?"

Lukos did nothing more than turn to face Nick as he re-entered his body. In a way, he didn't need to provide an answer. His pack did that for him. Lukos stood solid and still with his arms folded. As he did so, nearly twenty people melded out of the shadows behind him. Almost all were wearing some sort of obscuring clothing such as jackets or sweatshirts with hoods and jeans. One in particular, a girl, came to stand beside Lukos. She pressed her face against his arm and nuzzled him. It was a decidedly canine gesture. "We know what we're doing." she muttered with a sideways glance at Nick. At that, the group behind him began stripping their shirts or jackets. About half went to a knee, unbuckling the jeans and crawling out of them even as their shift took place leaving a fur clad wolf to prowl up behind their leader. The other half drew weapons. They carried everything from fire axes to machetes to baseball bats and crowbars. A few even had steel batons. They used simple bashing or hacking weapons in general, but even the most basic of household tools could be incredibly deadly in the hands of a person with the enhanced strength granted by Lycanthropy.

Once the pack was ready, each member stepped forward. Arrayed behind their alphas, they practically bled confidence, so much so that they stank of it. It was a truly scary sight, to know that the city harbored a relative army of super human, territorial, rage prone Werewolves under the control of one man in a gas mask.

Outside, the howl caught the ears of Nick Cimitiere. "Looks like trouble's coming this way," he said. "Everyone get ready!"

"No!" Lukos' command resounded through the group. He pushed, Mia slightly away from him and stepped forward toward the house. "The wolves are ours. That much is Pack business. I warn you to stay out of the way. I cannot help you if you interfere. It is the way we protect our territory. We will take on the Rojos. You pursue the woman causing this." Lukos stepped forward, and hunched over. His shoulders raised like those of a wolf ready to pounce. He snarled, and suddenly his frame exploded outward. He grew inches, instantly. The sleeves on his jacket, and pants seemed to be near bursting, and the reason for his gloves lacking fingers became obvious when he grew wicked looking claws. He threw his head back, and howled. Instantly there was a flurry of motion as every wolf, man, and woman in his pack sped past him. They were fast, and they were on the warpath. One man with an axe buried it in the handle of the door. Another kicked it down, allowing one of the wolves to charge through it. Other members of the pack followed. Several other wolves didn't bother with the door, instead leaping through the windows. Mia changed quickly, shredding her clothes in the process, and speeding toward the house on four legs. Lukos himself, shaking with rage and fury so much that he practically vibrated charged forward to join them.

[Aoiroo]

Hearing the taunting from the youngest member of this group Sil glanced into the room to see the mystic werewolf chick trying to catch up with him. She didn't really know what to think about the plan, but it did leave an opening so for now,

"Thanks for the distraction Leroy Jenkins."

Running forward she crossed the room and jumped onto an old side table to get some height. Pushing off, she did an quick aerial flip and made it look like she was going to turn into a kick to the woman, except she overshot her completely and ended up foot first onto the stairs. It looked pretty much like a miss to anyone but Sil who was grinning under her mask as she held her feet out and for a slip second they connected to the wall behind the woman and she pushed off again this time ramming herself into the mystics back.

[Dr Archeville]

Dead Head just stared blankly as Lukos' pack showed up.

That's a heck of a lot'a werewolves....

But he had no time to dwell on that: there were crazed loa to oppose! Dead Head rushed in, following the mental map Crow's description had provided, and soon arrived at the room with Marinette.

Alright, 'Head, let's see if'n I can pull this off.

"What you doin' 'ere, Marinette?!," Dead Head shouted, trying to imitate the peculiar accent of his former head-mate, Papa Ghede, mixed with "angry father upset at what he found in his daughter's room." "Did dat no good Samedi put you up to t'is? Hrm?"

[trollthumper]

Marinette's dry cackle split the room, standing out amongst the conflict of the werewolves. "'Put me up to it'?" she said. "This was all my will. This one sought my favor, and I bestowed it. She wished for her get to be free, to be liberated from the bonds of law, and I have granted it. Samedi deals in corpses; I deal in the heart's blood. And, if I might add..."

She flourished her claws across the banister, causing it to fall to pieces.

"...your accent sucks."