2018.04.29PendragonPets
Pendragon Pets (Part One) | |
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The Gods of Old pride is called in to save a young Bagheera and end up going home with a lot more than they bargained for. | |
IC Date | April 29th, 2018 |
IC Time | Late Evening |
Players | Phillipe, Niccia, Adelard, Seren |
Location | Desert Nowhereland, California |
Spheres | Fera |
It started with a visit from Tamar.
In Phillipe's world, most of the craziest days start (or end) with a visit from Tamar. She'd asked for his pride and he called them. The information she has to share is dire, indeed. There is a "company" called Pendragon Pets that specializes in black market sales of exotic pets. A young Bagheera - only very recently out of his First Year and into his Rite Name - has tried to raid their California base of operations and gotten himself caught and housed among their other big cats. She asked that they facilitate his removal by whatever means are most expedient - up to and including 'with extreme prejudice'.
But what Adelard had to tell them quickly removed the more 'civilized' options from the table. Pendragon Pets is, as it turns out, a front for a truly heinous Wyrm-flavored initiative. They operate in the mortal black market exotic pet trade, it's true, but all of the 'pets' are feral Changer kin of one variety or another. All of them are spayed/neutered if possible and then sold at exorbitant prices to fund the entire operation. That they have a base in southern California is unacceptable. So there are now three goals. Find the missing Bagheera (and maybe find out WHY he decided to take on the Wyrm single-handedly here), save as many of the kin as possible, and nuke this place from orbit. Any questions?
Niccia did show up for the briefing and listens intently to the conversation. In between strips of jerky and sips of water, she asks questions. "Do you think we could get in the building on the pretense of buying an animal? All my financial trace back to my family and the oil trade. It's easy enough to believe some rich foreigner to be interested in native big cats of America, exotic animal hunts and all the other things they think we do."
Her hand rattles the now empty bag of jerky and she places the paper bag in the garbage. "I don't think we can get in through the umbra or at least the majority of us. Which I think leaves us surprise or guile, I am good with either."
Knowing things about the Wyrm is sometimes super helpful. This is one such time. It, unfortunately, also comes along with knowing things he wish he didn't. This is also one such time. Nevertheless, like hell is Adelard not going to go help with a task like this. Destroying a Wyrm company, saving kin, aiding Phillipe's family, it's a no brainer. Though Niccia's suggestion does make Adelard smile. "Honestly, that's clever. We could probably manage that, I think." He says, "And no, the Umbra isn't much of an option for any of us. One day that will terribly convenient."
Phillipe is the fussiest parent. There have been so many tiny breaks to facilitate his checking on the tiniest leopard (new dads are the worst that way) and he got the run-down the first time from Tamar before making the call. He does settle eventually, nabbing a tiny piece of jerky from Niccia and draping across one of Adelard's shoulders, he snacks and considers this. "I like this. If Auberon has a free fifteen minutes, I think he'd be the best of us to try and sell it. Pose as her family's financial manager making the arrangements last minute on the whims of a fickle employer before they leave the country?"
There is a nod from Niccia who then opens her bag to pull out trail mix. "Sorry I missed brunch..." She offers the bag to Phillipe and Adelard, "That sounds good to me if nothing else it might get us more information. Times like this I miss having August as a distraction, it's so much easier to get things done when everyone is staring at him." Her lips quirk up into a smile at the thought.
"I'm sure he can spare fifteen minutes." Adelard says with a nod, slipping his phone from his pocket and sending a quick text immediately after. Niccia, though, gets a shake of his head. "You never need to apologize for eating food. That's just silliness." He says on a small laugh, "And if it's 'glaringly obvious terrifying distraction' that we end up needing, I promise you I can fit the bill." That smile turns into a slightly smug smirk, then, but he does manage to stop short of preening.
Phillipe manages to choke back an outright laugh at Adelard's smug little moment, there, but it's a near thing. It's a snort, but at least that's subtle - and it comes with a grinning nuzzle against the corner of his jaw. "For someone who complains about us being brats, you're doing an excellent job of playing one on tv," he teases warmly, nosing at jaw one more time before turning to Niccia. "What he isn't outright saying is that Adelard's war form - aside from being enormous and terrifying - inspires the Delirium in wolves and their kin." He shrugs. "It isn't something we broadcast, lest the local sept decide to take issue with the result of their own genocidal history, but you're family." And can therefore be trusted. "So if they've got Dancers or kin in this place, they shouldn't be too much a problem."
Niccia covers her mouth with a hand to stifle her laughter at the comment by Phillipe. A nod then follows to his words, "Yes, lips are sealed. Though really the thought of someone like Dragomir pissing his pants is something I will admit amuses me greatly." She winks and folds her hands on her belly, "I think, sirs, we have a plan or at least part of a plan as I agree the place needs to be leveled. Goddess knows how many kin they have done this too."
"Yes, well, taste of your own medicine from time to time." Adelard says, though the comment does earn a warm chuckle and a hand run down the length of Phillipe's spine. Sure enough it's in that moment that his phone buzzes and Adelard glances down. "He's free. So yes, we have a plan. Shall we have ourselves a bloodbath, then?" That, too, inspires a smirk, though this one sharper. There is little that is truly soft about the old dragon even to those that he doesn't despise. For servants of the Wyrm and those that torture kin? Well, he has no qualms in taking joy in their suffering and death.
Phillipe is a cat. A hand down his spine from someone he cares for is going to be thoroughly indulged in. That's just The Rules of Cat Do. "Good. I'll go tell Andrea we're going to borrow the 'woo money from you' car and probably need a few of the Reserve transport trucks on standby. We've got enough space to house anyone salvageable here for a little while at least." And there may not be much soft about the old dragon, but that doesn't stop the leopard from dropping a kiss atop his head before heading out to make the arrangements.
This car is ridiculous. It /looks/ like the kind of car Phillipe would just /have/ if driving weren't still a strange and foreign thing. So Adelard gets the keys to this Tesla Roadster and Niccia has the entire backseat to herself - plenty of room to stretch out and lounge. Auberon, as it turns out, is one of those rare people who could charm paint off a wall. So their adventure ends up taking them to a small airstrip outside the city. Halfway there, Phillipe realizes that his face is probably too recognizably tied to the Reserve not to set off alarm bells, but a spoilt oil princess having a pet leopard /already/ when going to look for more isn't terribly outside the realm of believability. Riding on a helicopter as a /leopard/, however, is quite possibly the least fun experience he's ever had.
They're met at the airstrip by a company representative who is... a little bit like Pepper Potts if she had Manip 5 and Conscience 0. She's very professional, polite, and 'friendly', but there's a strange sharpness about her that makes at least the strawberry leopard uncomfortable. The facility they are flown to is /obviously/ meant to impress - and at least the flight is short. Of course they want to give a /tour/ before they show off the merchandise. Gotta buy time to get everything in place, right?
The car is lovely and Niccia sprawls on the seat, spoiled to the core she enjoys the ride. The helicopter ride makes her smile softly, "Flying is lovely, though I do prefer planes." She babbles softly to the leopard because she is sure it is what is expected of a rich eccentric. The site gets a raised brow for the size and she makes ready for the tour of the facility. On goes the slightly vapid expression of the easily impressed. "This is going to be so much fun, like the zoo! Only I can take the pretty ones home with me."
Being handed the keys to this car makes Adelard smile in a delighted way that not many people get to see out in the open. Drives a little like a man possessed, entirely comfortable behind the wheel and with reflexes not often seen in his kind, nor in someone his age. About the time that Phillipe realizes that this will be easiest if he's in Feline, Adelard has his own dawning realization that makes him sigh heavily. There's really only one way of explaining Adelard's presence with the pretty, young, /pregnant/ oil princess and uh... Well, it's not exactly comfortable. But Adelard will absolutely let these people think whatever terrible assumption they want to make. Even plays the part a little, in the least creepy way possible, offering Niccia his arm as they climb out of this helicopter. "Yes, dear." Not dry, but certainly the reserved indulgence of someone who is 'simply along for the ride.' That feigned disinterest gives him opportunity to look away easily, trying to make note of what details of the space that he can.
You paged (Niccia, Seren) with '(Since Niccia looked and Seren has the merit to see it) The Umbra here is really sad. This place has been here long enough that the building exists in the Umbra, but it is rotten, rusted out. More like the setting for a horror film than the high-end look it has in the realm. Perhaps most disturbing are what look like gravestones scattered everywhere, like they've pushed up from below and broken through the marble and concrete to exist above them. Hovering over each one is a spirit of some kind of animal. All of them are kin to some kind of Changer except for four. Those four are fainter than the others, flickering in and out like they can't quite hold on to even spiritual existence. They are a boar, a bull, a bat and an otter. The otter perks up when it catches Niccia looking, though, and there is a moment where it looks like it is concentrating very hard - growing a little bit brighter before limp-scampering off down a hallway and disappearing from her sight. It has a drugged-out Bagheera to reassure. <<Help is on the way, friend. Please don't forget us.>>'
The leopard is quite happy to mrowl back at Niccia's cooing, licking at one side of her jaw and nuzzling against a cheekbone with the kind of affection one might expect of a silly cat who doesn't know how big he is. And once they're down and off this helicopter, he ranges about, sniffing at smells and listening to sounds. There are frequent returns to Niccia, like he's afraid to let her out of his sight or looking to her for a mother's reassurance as he explores his new world with cub-like enthusiasm.
The woman from the airstrip has come with them, and though she obviously does not like this animal running about in her facility, she merely purses her lips and huffs out a breath through her nose. She knows better than to throw away a couple million dollar potential over a cat being a cat. Weird looking cat to boot. "We are much more comfortable a facility than a zoo, Miss Sudean, I can assure you." And as though to prove her point, a slightly-frazzled looking young man emerges from a side-door with a tray of glasses. "Champagne?" This smile is so painfully fake... except when she looks from Adelard to Niccia to Niccia's stomach and back to Adelard. That's when it softens just a little - you'd be amazed how much people relax when they think they're in the company of humans who are just as shady as they are. "With the last-minute nature of your visit, I'm afraid the viewing area is only /almost/ finished being cleaned. I'd be happy to answer any questions you have in the meantime?"
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "She smells like rotten perfume. At least two of these security guards smell like a rotting /body/."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "/Charming./"
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Tray boy reeks of fear. I don't think he's here voluntarily."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "No idea why they'd expand into /kidnapping/ though. Not of someone in skin."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "Maybe he's kin too?"
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "Not mine, or at least not of pure blood, if he is."
A look flashes over the Egyptian woman's face and she presses a hand to her belly as if it was the source of that pained look. Reaching up she pushes her hair behind one ear before the half smile returns to her lips. Then she speaks to Adelard in French and suddenly hopes the man understands it. <We've spotted, striped, splotchy, shall we see what new wonder we can find.> She'll tease the poor dragon later about how he could have just posed as her uncle. A hand strokes over the leopard's head and fingers play with his ears.
<Gods of Old> Niccia says, "Likely to be Dancer kin and most of those are frightened of their relatives."
Maybe he could have, but the family resemblance would be a bit of a stretch. With his accent? His Northern French accent? Yes, yes he does understand her, and responds in kind - In a rolling, purring French only heard in native speakers from his specific region. < They are your loves, dear. Find whatever pleases you most. I'll mind the upsellers, yes? > It's paired with a fond smile for Niccia and a pat on her arm. With all the air of an inconsiderate older lover, he /does/ reach for one of the glasses of champagne. Though his hand pauses inches away as he turns his gaze on the woman escorting them with a well-trained look of the privileged Frenchman. "What vintage is this?" He asks in that oh-so-French tone that is the epitome of #judgingyou.
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "..."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "You're a shithead."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "I'm selling it."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Don't /over/sell it."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "I'm /French./ If they think this is overselling they've never met a Frenchman."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "What even /is/ France?"
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "Civilization."
<Gods of Old> Haroun sighs forever.
<Gods of Old> Niccia has injured herself laughing.
The arrival of this tray boy is New! And! Exciting! ...right? With all the intensity of a juvenile, the golden leopard bounces over toward the poor guy, rearing up to balance with big paws on one of his arms and sniff at these glasses. He's very dainty about the process, not knocking over or even upsetting a single one (he has a mistress with lots of pretty, fragile things, after all) but Very Curious.
Nevermind that this poor kid looks like he's about six seconds from /wetting/ himself when there is Suddenly Cat. Definitely does not get paid enough for this nonsense. Or at all. "H-hello there," he tries, obviously nervous despite trying not to show so. "I don't think these are for kitties..." There's a glance at the Scary Lady and, "...but I could maybe find you some water if you - if you like?"
Scary Lady herself doesn't miss a beat. "Armand de Brignac Gold, sir. 1997." Borderline offended at the notion he'd even /suspect/ them of serving something sub-par to their clientele. There's a very subtle beep at her ear and she turns to listen before pasting on another Fake Smile and returning her attention to Adelard and Niccia. "If there are no questions, the viewing has been prepared. Right this way, please." She leads them down the hall (these knock-off heels clicking on the marble in a distinctly hollow way, Auberon would be so offended) and through a large set of double-doors to a smaller, more intimate space. There are couches, divans and armchairs, each one lavishly upholstered and placed so that their occupants can view in the utmost of style and comfort. All facing an enormous glass wall that looks out into a lush tropical enclosure. At first, it looks to be devoid of life, but after a moment there can be spied a little bit of movement in one corner just before two young lion cubs come tumbling out into full view - tussling and wrestling in the way only siblings quite manage. "I thought you might like to see our feline offerings first." So smug. So pleased with herself. Like she can see the dollar signs in front of her eyes already.
As one does not put a cat on a leash the people will just have to adjust. A hand is dropped on to the playful leopard's head as Niccia scritches the ears. When shown to the room she settles down on a chair to watch the enclosure. As the lion cubs come into view she makes the appropriate cute noises you get from anyone looking at baby animals. She claps her hands and coo's which is perhaps a good thing as Niccia glances often at the woman's throat as her fingers twitch.
That answer provided, there is a very small twitch at the corner of Adelard's mouth before he takes a glass of this champagne. Let her be offended, it doesn't ruffle even a single feather in this prideful facade he wears. Then, though, he will follow as the lady likes. Led in, Adelard sees Niccia to her lounging, though he stays standing, taking a sip of this champagne. Watching the lion cubs as they emerge, there's another twitch at the corner of his mouth, though this one he lets linger, along with his gaze upon the cats. "Rambunctious at that age." He comments, still haughty but just the slightest bit indulgent.
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "Their security looks bored and outdated at best... But I'm not sure I buy that. I think I've spotted their security control room, though. That'll probably have a layout of the place if I can get in."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Drink that shit fast then ask for the bathroom."
<Gods of Old> Haroun deadpan.
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "That was my thought."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "...wait really? I was making a 'the cat was left at home with television all day' joke. That works?"
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "I mean, I doubt I'll need to down the champagne. But needing their restroom isn't the largest leap of logic."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "I hear that's a side-effect of viagra, so."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "I mean, you know, they think I've got a pregnant lover less than half my age so..."
<Gods of Old> Niccia sighs.
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "You're lucky I'm not a mage or it might not be pretend."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "...You are the /worst./"
<Gods of Old> Haroun innocent: "Me?"
<Gods of Old> Adelard amused: "Oh, shut up."
Free from the constraints of dignity that humans have to maintain in situations like this, the golden leopard purrs and headbutts Niccia's hand after the ear-scritching, then bounds forward toward that glass. Both paws go on it, bouncing off and down a couple of times like he thinks he can get in there to play too. It's... pretty damn cute if you've got a heart at all, which he's not exactly banking on in this situation, but at least it can't hurt. It also gives him a chance to mrowrl and tail twitch at the lion cubs, asking a series of questions back and forth like a guessing game in Feline. It's enough to hold their attention for a little while, and (he hopes) will at least give him a solid idea of the number of cats they're talking about back there.
The lion cubs are only too happy to play this game. There are /lots/ of cages and there used to be plenty of room for all of them in theirs but they've gotten /bigger/ now and so it's nice to not be squished for a little bit. Lots of different smells. Some they recognize as leopard or crocodile, but others they don't know at all. Scary Lady drones on about the 'public' listing of big cats they have available, but those numbers don't seem to match up with what the cubs are saying, which really only would alert Phillipe and Niccia, but it's an important discrepancy all the same.
Niccia nods her head as she watches the cats at the glass. After a moment of observation Niccia gets back to her feet, "Charming, they are simply charming and so playful." A hand is run down the back of the leopard as she comments, "Are there more rooms? Oh, maybe I should not ask I don't think he will allow me to take more then one or two home with me."
Cat speech is, in fact, entirely lost on Adelard, but he can get the idea of the communication /happening/, at least. It's not worth pinging the awareness of everyone around just to try and understand. "My dear, you can bring home whatever it is you desire." He offers to Niccia with an indulgent smile, "There are some things that earn such luxuries. Be shown as many and as much as pleases you." That's as much as he lingers on the topic, however, glancing to the young man with the tray, assuming he's followed to be the designated 'help.' "Where might I find your restroom?" He asks him, quieter and as though not trying to interrupt much more legitimate business, setting his champagne aside.
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "........."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "God I am so sorry, Niccia. Know this hurts me in my soul."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "I love you and /I/ want to punch you for that one."
<Gods of Old> Haroun gags.
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "I /would/ punch me for that."
<Gods of Old> Niccia says, "I feel so dirty right now."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "...no comment."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "Yeah, you can hit me for all of this later. Promise."
<Gods of Old> Niccia says, "The things we have to do to rescue family."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "/Right?/"
The leopard rumbles pleased sounds at the renewal of petting from Niccia, winding around her legs /very carefully/ while making the low huffing grunts that are the leopard equivalent of 'conversational' noises. But when Adelard looks like he's about to leave, those round ears perk up and the cat bounds over to put both paws on Adelard's shoulders instead.
This kid with the tray goes a little white when the cat bounds over again, but there is palpable relief when it goes for Adelard instead of him. "N-not far, sir. I can s-show you." Scary Lady rolls her eyes at this stuttering, without even a consideration for subtlety. "Tell the kitchens to move up feeding time while you're at it." Then, with a much more polite approximation of tone, she turns to Niccia as though to explain. "Some of our animals are still new enough acquisitions that they're not quite so... /friendly/, as your lovely creature. Feeding them is the easiest way to get a look while they're all still. Then if there are a few that catch your interest, we can move them to..." And she will /continue/ to drone on and on. And on.
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "I'll keep watch. Niccia can sweet-talk crazy-lady for a minute, but I'll hear someone coming long before you will."
Niccia uses the smile she uses on August to get what she wants. The slight curl of the lips, the barest hint of a pout, it's the smile they teach in charm schools in 'How to snag a rich husband 101. Then she leans in and gives a conspiratory whisper, "He's feeling a bit guilty so, between you and I, I am leaning towards three or four new kittens. It's so hard for a man of his age especially since the doctor won't let him have his little blue pills anymore." Niccia waggles fingers at the departing man, "Have you anything with more color, they are adorable but rather well tan."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "HAH."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "I love you, Niccia."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "Valid. Only fair if we're both deeply uncomfortable."
Phillipe coming over to say a very /intense/ hello has Adelard laughing for a very brief moment, but in that indulgent way one does to a pet. It pains him to even do, and yet. There's a condescending pat to Phillipe's head before he lifts the leopard's paws to encourage him back onto the ground. "Fine, you can come along." He says with a small shake of his head before turning his attention back to the young man. "Most appreciated." He says, though only a moment later he catches Niccia's hushed commentary and there's a twitch right under his eye that he doesn't even try to mask. There is no comment made, however, he'll just follow the young man out, slip into the restroom long enough for him to continue on his way to the kitchens and for enough time to pass to be believable to anyone minding a camera. Even goes to far to look around as if vaguely lost when he steps out, turning the "wrong" way to get back where he belongs and heads for the security room door.
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "This whole mission is awful and I hate it."
There is a huff of breath from the big cat at the greeting he is given, but unless one is /intensely/ familiar with his communication patterns, it could honestly just be the impact from landing back on the ground where he's put. He jogs silently alongside Adelard - too silently, not that any of these guards seem to notice - and sits very primly outside this restroom door like a well-trained housepet. He settles outside the security room while Adelard does whatever he's going to try, but in a much less performance-like posture.
There are footsteps, but they're still a ways off - and /possibly/ headed in another direction entirely. It's hard to tell with marble, but there's a minute at least. Scary Lady snickers behind one hand, perfectly willing to indulge in being a catty bitch when the opportunity has presented itself practically gift-wrapped. "I understand completely. It gets better as they get older, I promise. The afternoon naps in their chair are the perfect opportunity to slip out for something actually satisfying." As for color, she considers and then consults her tablet. "For cats, there are a few jaguars - though they're a little older - and a Siberian tiger not yet weaned for sale. We can certainly reserve her for you, though, if you'd like. If it's /color/ you're after, and you're willing to look beyond the cats, we have some /lovely/ foxes, a polar bear, and some terribly bright gila monsters I could show you?"
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "I suppose we're all on the discomfort ride, now."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "I know, I'm sorry."
<Gods of Old> Haroun huff.
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "Footsteps, though, in case you didn't catch them."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "I hear them. Can't get directionality or distance with all this echo, though. Damn new money."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "Yeah, me either. I'll try to be quick."
Looking first over her shoulder at the man walking away first, Niccia then turns her head to the woman. "Oh, she sounds lovely, how long before she can be taken from her mother or the nursery? We will have to arrange shipment when she is ready." A hand rests on her belly as she draws the woman towards the glass. "Foxes you say? I do love the brilliant reds, I saw one once in England. Are they truly as smart as they seem?"
The footsteps are certainly something to be concerned about, but there's not much for it. Adelard just has to hope he can get this thing open quick. Or at least try fast enough that he can step away before whoever that is turns up. Turning to the door, he starts poking at this keycard entry, with at least some understanding of how this kind of thing works.
While Adelard works on this keycard nonsense, Phillipe is paying attention to the rest of the world. Ears swivel back and forth, finally able to correctly pinpoint the source of that sound. He doesn't interrupt the old dragon's work, but he does shift posture, ready to spring at someone if by chance this larceny thing doesn't work out so great.
It is, as it turns out, an unnecessary precaution. Adelard manages to open this thing with extreme prejudice. Even looks cool doing it. Damn him.
"They aren't generally, no," Scary Lady answers Niccia's inquiry. "But our line is particularly bright. I've been told they make excellent family pets if they're still young when the kids are little."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Two large people coming down the hall. We'll be in their line of sight in about eighteen seconds. At least one guard /in/ the room too. Or someone. I heard a belch. It was foul. I need brain toothpaste."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "In quick and silence that one fast?"
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "If you open the door, I'll get him."
Niccia nods her head and smiles to the woman as she keeps an eye out just in case alarms start going off. "You have a wonderful job, spreading so much joy with these cats."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "Three, two, one..."
The countdown is accurate, and Adelard opens the door without trouble from the lock. Be married to Auberon long enough and you pick up a thing or two... Or three. The old dragon isn't far behind the leopard, though, closing the door behind them. One problem at a time, after all.
That countdown is all Phillipe needs. It's amazing how terrifying a group of fera can be when they have the ability to sync minds through their totem. Absolutely. Terrifying. The minute that door opens, the leopard unleashes his pounce like a loaded spring, making for the back of this security guard's neck like he's an impala or some shit. Humans, as it turns out, are not great at withstanding that kind of assault. And so before the man even knows what's happening, there is a leopard standing in the security room with part of a spine between his teeth looking at Adelard like a golden retriever who's just found the Best Stick Ever Didn't I Do Good?
Inside this security room there are a host of monitors as well as a couple of filing cabinets that are very helpfully labeled. Someone got bored and had access to a Ye Olde Label Maker. There are probably floor plans in there. See? There's a nice drawer labeled 'Blueprints' and everything. Morons.
As for Scary Lady, she heaves a sigh with a hand against her chest like she is just /so/ put upon. "It's a difficult job, but so rewarding. We aren't in the business of /animals/ you see, so much as in the business of dreams."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "One down, the rest of these nasties to go."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Nicciaaaaaaaa, I got you a present!"
Seren is, for the record, not down with this cage thing. Just in case anyone was wondering. He might HAVE to lay still- even if he hadn't been drugged, you just don't give away that the next human who opens your cage is leaving without their throat- but he doesn't LIKE it. Not here where the smells are just WRONG and he's seen things that make him want to go through and kill every. Damn. Human. here for sport. ..and pain. The fact is that he does have to lay still. Probably thinking of making the last few seconds of Scary Lady's life a nightmare.
<Gods of Old> Niccia fears all presents now.
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "I blame August."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Look."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Feral-born give presents, too."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "We just don't buy them. We kill them."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "We get the info here then come back and kill the shit out of new money bitch before prison break?"
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "...'kill the shit out of'."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "You have been spending too much time in front of the USA channel."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "Look, I have had WAY too much free time."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "But yes. Sounds good. Niccia, we're probably 3 minutes out."
Niccia is glad to see her sarcasm is lost on the woman, though at her reply Niccia grits her teeth just a little. "Sorry long day already. You don't mind if we sit a moment do you?" Niccia's smile is a tad brighter, "I do so enjoy having another woman to talk to." Turning back to look at the lions she murmurs, "You've been so very nice to me I should find someway to thank you properly."
It's also nice when a plan comes together. Phillipe holding this spine like he's so very proud of himself earns a genuinely warm smile. "Well done." He says quietly, reaching over to give a /proper/ rub to the leopard's ears. It's a brief thing, though. Important to stay on target. Oh look, helpful labels. In a locked cabinet. Welp, once more with feeling, shall we?
Genuine ear rubs do at least a little to settle the unease that had arisen in the leopard after the disingenuous version before. Adelard is free to do his thing, the cat is going to lie down on the floor and gnaw on these bones for a minute. He does not seem to think this might be a little weird to anyone, but you'll never quite train out /all/ of the feral-born's nature.
Unlocking the cabinet is easy enough, but the drawer's contents are not exactly as labeled. It's almost like an ACME cartoon, where the big label is too good to be true and there's a wind-up boxing glove ready to spring a black eye instead. Except, you know, instead of a glove, it's a manifested Bane, springing out of the drawer and /almost/ missing Adelard's face. Almost. Shadowy cloud of Really Pissed Off doesn't /hurt/, so to speak, but it does make seeing and breathing pretty impossible.
Niccia's sarcasm is lost on Scary Lady entirely. Which, to be fair, when one's life is spent around some of the most terrible, selfish people on the planet, becoming immune to snide tones is really almost a survival mechanism. "No, no, not at all. You must be exhausted." And she'll even try to help Niccia back to one of the more comfortable chairs. "There's no need for that. I'm happy to help our clients however I can. Once you've had a chance to rest a moment, we can go have a look at our foxes. Perhaps a glass of ice water?" Scary Lady turns as though expecting that boy to be back and ready to take orders. That he isn't back yet pulls a frown down between her brows. "Where is that lazy..." She sighs and mutters under her breath, then turns to offer another Fake SmileTM to Niccia. "If you'll excuse me just a moment, I'll bring that ice water. Nicholas is still new and not terribly reliable, yet. We'll get him there."
"Oh no, please don't bother it will just run right through me. Then i'll never make it through all your wonderful animals." She mock pouts just a little, "I'd love to see the foxes and did you say you had a polar bear? I would be the only one with a private menagerie with one of those. I'd need a controlled habitat right? Oh and fresh or salt water for it to swim in? I do know they adore swimming...oh!" there is a sudden clapping of hands from the now apparently excited woman. "Fish! we could put in live fish for it to hunt! I would be the envy of all my friends!"
That Adelard's instinctive response to something on his /face/ is to growl low in his chest is... Well, that's just a painfully /him/ response, isn't it? Problem is, it's pretty hard to growl effectively when the air has gotten this thick. There's a snarl, but it's by no means the most terrifying thing Adelard has ever done. Not enough to scare a /Bane/ of all things. Damn.
Excuse you, face-thing. That is not your dragon. When Adelard's growl is so subdued, the leopard on the ground looses one that is /not/, dropping his chew toy and standing to put both paws back on Adelard's shoulders and take the shadow-y clinging thing in his teeth for a /pull/. It puts up a fairly decent fight, but is no match for a pissed off, protective leopard. Being ripped at by teeth is not a fun time, and the Bane does not spend long so punctured before dissolving into smoke that makes the leopard sneeze horribly about half a dozen times. So undignified, but hey, at least the old man can breathe now. Breathing is important, or so he's been told.
With that bane gone, the inside of the filing cabinet is viewable, with a couple different folders. They all have similar floor plan layouts in them, but the top one is written in the ugly glyph system used by the Dancers. The second one is in regular English and the third one looks like it might be printed in Mandarin. No more Banes, though. At least not in this drawer.
"Are you sure? It really wouldn't be any trouble..." There is a moment where Scary Lady looks indecisive, but does settle back in this chair - though there is a quick tap-tap on her tablet. A note to herself to look into him later, perhaps. "Oh yes, they require a strict temperature regulation. The animals can actually become sick if their environment gets too hot. They become weak, lethargic, lose their appetite. It's sad, really." Another tap-tap-tap on the tablet. "I'm sure arranging that viewing would be no problem at all. Foxes, bear... anything else? I can have them start prep work now."
Niccia purses her lips then worries at one of her thumbs. "Well maybe you can help me decide how to fill out my gardens." Niccia scoots a little closer gesturing with her hands. "I have a lion already but he's a bit boring to be honest all he does is sleep, eat and fornicate. Which was exciting at first watching him take down an old goat or two. Then I got him a female, my biggest mistake ever. So I am thinking of replacing him with young ones." She chews at the end of her braid, "I have a tiger as well but I think there is something wrong with him, is it possible for animals to be..well you know slow?" She turns big sorrowful eyes on the woman, full of pity...for herself it seems by her words. "It just makes me so sad all my friends make these horribly catty comments so I really need something to wow them."
When Phillipe pulls the Bane away and finishes his sneezing fit, Adelard gives a soft smile and another ear rub. "Thank you." Soft again, though he can't linger. Pulling the blueprints from the drawer, he glances through them. "Well, these two don't match." He comments, holding up the Wyrm page and the English, "And this is... Literally in Chinese. But it's a starting point. We should get back." They've made poor Niccia kill time for awhile now, and suspicion will start to build. Carefully folding the prints, he slips them into the inner pocket of his jacket and turns to lead the way out. Though there is the good sense to stop and listen at the door before just heading out into the hall.
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Nobody in the hall. Niccia, we're on our way back. If you can keep her talking, I'll eat her spine too."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "They're so nice and chewy."
Once it becomes clear that there is no presence in the hall with which to be concerned, Phillipe slips out the door held open by the old dragon and pads too silently through the halls again. He pauses just out of the line of sight from the open doorway leading back to Niccia and the Scary Lady, listening for a moment before moving slowly around the corner and creeping forward to an optimal pouncing position. There's even kittenish butt-wiggle. Cats. Death machines of grace and beauty... zero concept of feline dignity. Until they super do. Leaping from his crouch, he sinks fangs into the back of her neck and rips backward with the same degree of success as he had the security guard in the back. This time, he holds his prize with head held high and bouncy-trots around the couches to drop it at Niccia's feet with a /very/ 'proud of himself' Mrowr!
"Oh yes, that can be the terrible trouble with lions. Lion/ess/ on the other hand, typically much more intelligent and pleasant pets. You do /occasionally/ get some mental retardation, but typically only when the inbreeding factor is above si-" But she never gets a chance to finish that sentence. Having one's spinal cord brutally severed tends to put a damper on conversation. Also on fancy couches. They'll never get all the blood out of this brocade. Never not once, nope. Super going to be the fomori lounge couch now.
Niccia was listening to the woman drone on and sighs with relief as she finally is made quiet. Leaning down she rubs a cheek along the Leopard's jaw line and gives the fur a warm licking. "You beautiful one are my hero. I was running out of small talk." She looks up then at Adelard, "Are we ready to get rid of the rest of these creatures? There are so many dead here it's going to take a while to see their spirits freed."
That will /never/ grow tiresome to watch. Adelard smiles, a small thing but more genuine than he's given out in the open in this place. "Well done." He says with a nod to Phillipe, and turns his attention to Niccia, "Thank you for keeping her busy. I've found layouts, but they don't match. You don't happen to read Chinese, do you?" Pulling the prints from his pocket, he opens them and offers them over to Niccia to study.
"I can read it, yes." she offers as the prints are laid out. Niccia purses her lips and takes a breath, as she looks at the prints with far more concentration then she should need.
The leopard is quite happy to rub his face back against Niccia's in return, rumbling the quiet affection that is a threatening sound to people who don't know the big cats. He settles in to groom himself while a couple of his favorite nerds talk about all of the strange human languages. Image is important, guys. And he does not speak Chinese.
"Bless you." Adelard says, sighing relief. Lord knows /he's/ never learned Chinese. He settles quietly to wait, reaching over to give a longer set of ear rubs to Phillipe. Work well done deserves proper praise, after all.
Niccia lifts the drawings as she reads a nail trailing down the English, "They read the same, though I am a bit confused why they would need a set in Chinese here in America. Unless of course they have another facility in China or around Chinatown with the same layout." She lifts a shoulder and rolls them back up, "We could if you want to be sure ask the spirits there was an otter spirit when we arrived who was much more aware then the others. He asked we do not forget them and the others trapped here."
Seren smells blood and, you know something? He's a little disappointed he didn't draw it. He has had ENOUGH of the bullshit of these humans (and he used to be such a laid back cat). Fortunately, now that his brain isn't addled by drugs, he's able to wriggle his way through the bars while trying to amuse himself with jokes of experiencing birth again to distract himself from his surroundings. Once he's free he gives a low growl in the cage's direction (it's the same as swearing at an unruly appliance. It doesn't do anything, but makes you feel better) and begins to wind his way toward that smell. If he's lucky, maybe the human will still be alive because they DESERVE suffering. Except then there are... others? Given the recent past, he's just going to announce himself with a scuff that will alert them to his presence without putting himself in full view.
This longer set of ear rubs earns so much leopardish affection right back, much nuzzling against palms and knuckles and little kitten licks to wrists and fingers. But the sound of that huff makes Haroun's ears swivel and point before bounding away toward it with a low grunting chuff and twitching tail. << It's okay. >> Feline is his mother tongue, he has a little more flexibility with it than many of the homid-born cats. <<We're here to help. Are you Whisperwish?>>
"I've no idea why they need both languages, but if they match," Adelard says, pointing then to the Wyrm set, "Then it's just this one that's different. And foul - But that's another issue. We'll be sure to clear the place out, and see the place cleansed. Hopefully that will ease the spirits' suffering." Huffing at the offense paper, he's distracted enough that it surprises him when Phillipe bounds away. Blinking, he watches him go. "Well, I think we'd best follow." And he, again carefully, folds up the papers before slipping them back into his pocket. He offers Niccia his hand, knowing full well that standing while heavily pregnant is not always the simplest process.
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Just a cat. No need to fret."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Sorry, I got excited."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "Well, that's helpful, at least."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Matches the description we were given, at least."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Which would be convenient."
Niccia takes the hand offered and pulls herself up, "Stupid lion." is muttered under her breath as she gets her balance. "Well then shall we go see what has gotten his attention?" She starts for the door with all the grace she can muster to control the urge to let her hips make her waddle.
Seren takes a step back, studying the leopard before him. <<You killed the woman?>> The look of disgust he gives is one only a feline could master as he considers answering the question. <<...yes.>> After a few seconds he seems to relax just a little. <<You are the ones I was told were coming? Who are you?>> Look, he's had a week already. His manners are a little lacking (Comes with getting cattle prodded and then darted).
<<Told were coming?>> That seems to take the rose-gold leopard by surprise for a moment before it dawns on him. <<Of /course/ she came snooping around in the Umbra.>> Makes a series of grumpy mrowrling sounds that roughly translate to something like 'could have fucking /told/ me, ma'. Roughly. << I am Haroun. My pride and I are here to help. Do you feel up to a fight? >> There is a deep inhalation and exhale before the leopard grows and changes into a cat that is much larger and primordial, ready for Fite Tiem. <<Or would you prefer to go scouting?>> Look, he does not presume to know what other cats like to do. He's just ready to eat some fase.
With an indrawn breath, Haroun becomes a massive, rose-gold bagheera-chatro leopard. Full Delirium is in effect. (See +rules Delirium)
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Yep, super him."
"Men can be terrible burdens like that, I'm afraid." Adelard offers in response to Niccia with a smile that says he's seen this particular rodeo more than a few times. As to what has Phillipe's attention, he taps his temple once, in case Niccia had focused elsewhere and had not heard their Pride link. Following out, he pauses near Phillipe and offers a nod to the new cat. Still can't speak Feline. Still isn't going to risk trying to speak Feline.
"I believe the otter spirit went to tell him. What I saw looking through was..strange." Yes a Bubasti has found something strange. "Bull, boar, bat and otter they were tethered here weakly as if they had been waiting a very long time. No kin belonging to them are here but yet they were, it was sad." She trails off and looks at the other cat, "Pretty."
Seren lets out a long breath that can only be described as a tired sigh. << I want them dead. >> He answers, but the anger that should be so clearly present is edged with sadness. << I want to watch them die. >> Mention of the otter earns a nod. << It was the otter. ...and for all of those deaths alone, they deserve to suffer. >> Of course then someone's calling him pretty and even now it sets off a bashful dip of his head. <<But, as much as I wish to fight them, I have to know if this is where they brought my children.>> Adelard earns an inspection before he nods in response. << If they still live. >>
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "...okay now everything makes much more sense."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "I'm not going to like this, I can tell already."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Adelard, they took his cubs."
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, ".............."
<Gods of Old> Adelard only manages to make vague, growling noises as communication.
<Gods of Old> Niccia says, "We should make haste in finding them."
<<He's a dragon, he can't understand us like this.>> The cat paws at his own ear in a very silly feline version of tapping his temple. <<We have pride-bond, so Niccia and I can translate as needed.>> Niccia being the pretty lady who called him pretty. There is a small pause where the horse-sized leopard turns to tuck Adelard's head under his chin while low, soothing rumbling happens. But feline is a great language in that he can continue to talk with flicks of ears and tail. <<He and I can start a pretty efficient distraction while you and Niccia go look for your cubs. She'll be able to let us know when you find them.>> When. He refuses to speak 'if's out loud. Not to a worried, grieving parent. And especially not while pseudo-nesting the angry dragon.
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "He and Niccia will be faster at looking if you and I can start breaking things and killing personnel, old dragon. You up for a fight?"
Adelard doesn't protest this pseudonesting, but there is a rumbling, cold growl deep in his chest that speaks of raw anger and pain. "They'll all die." He says, that growl carrying through into his voice. The notion of spirits has slipped to a backburner for him right this moment, Rage making him perhaps a bit heedless. "They might think they can steal those that do not belong to them - But I don't imagine they accounted for being eaten by dragons." He reaches up to pet at Phillipe's ear for a moment, and then slips out from under him with a look that says he's inclined to lead the way to wherever the plans indicated the highest density of targets might be.
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "Yes."
Niccia nods to the black cat then looks over at Adelard "If you can dim their lights I can hide myself and our new friend from their sight it will make hunting the young one's easier." A hand is run down the rose leopard's back, "Good hunting, to the both of you." Shoes are slipped off and dumped in her bag, a nod is given to the black panther to lead on trusting him to smell out his young.
<< If your friend were not a dragon, I would worry about him consuming those things. >> Seren might be biased against humans in general at the moment. He tips his head back down the hall. <<They keep the young in large rooms this way. ...at least I think they are large. I could hear them and it seemed that there were many in one space.>> Then he hesitates. <<Do we intend to free them all?>>
<<All of them,>> Haroun reassures. << I have transport vans waiting five miles out for my call.>> As soon as Adelard moves off, though, there is a giant cat behind him, trotting alongside like a spirited racehorse. Except no racehorse ever looked this much like moving death. The bloodstains don't help.
The generator for this facility is out back - a huge monster of a thing that belches noxious fumes into the sky as an added bonus. It's metal and looks pretty sturdy - even boasting a proud CERTIFIED EARTHQUAKE SAFE sticker on one side - but no one thinks about having to withstand an 8,000lb /dragon/ when designing... well, anything.
The room down the hall is full of an awful lot of baby animals, but there's no sign of Seren's children. None of these guys are very far over six months, though, and it's been a little over a year since they were taken. No reason to give up hope, yet.
Niccia walks with the cat, "That is the plan, we leave no one behind if we can help it. Then we free the spirits of this place and send them to their rest." As she walks her finger begin to do an intricate dance in the air before her. A whiff of darkness seeps from one nostril as the thin shadows begin to weave themselves around the pair. The darker the hall becomes the more the pair will vanish into the shadows of the place. When the generators die and all left is emergency lights they will be one with the dark.
Adelard is normally very considerate of others around him - At least insofar as acknowledging them. Right now, he's a man on a mission, walking with a rage-fueled purpose that transforms his stride into something that is intimidating in and of itself. The /moment/ they are outside? Well, all bets are off. This isn't play time anymore, made clear by the way his body stretches and twists and transforms into something so much larger than any mortal man. This generator is going to have a /time/, and woe betide any who tries to stop him.
Oncoming Storm twists and cracks, snapping bone heralding the emergence of a great, blue dragon from his flesh. Fifty feet long and with teeth longer than a man's forearm, this beast is not to be trifled with. DELIRIUM IN EFFECT, INCLUDING GAROU. (+rules The Delirium)
Seren is a dad, so of course he takes at least a moment to reassure those little ones that they're being rescued and that everything will be alright before they move on. The darkness is taken in stride as they move on. <<Thank you. Death should be a release, not a sentence to stay in this place.>> Of course, he's worried that his own cubs might number among those spirits but he has to know one way or another. <<There are more here. I believe they group them by age but I was drugged, so I cannot be certain.>>
Haroun knows this look. It's not a good look, it's not a good time... he anticipates a certain amount of aftercare is going to be required later, but for now? For now it's best to just let the old dragon work off some of his rage on the giant metal zapzap box.
The babies that can understand Seren settle remarkably quickly, curling up in the corners of their cages with their siblings whenever possible. There are other doors down this corridor, however, and it /seems/ like they go up in average age by about two years each time.
Niccia begins to look for an office or a lab, somewhere they may store animal care records or sales information. If they aren't here in flesh or spirit they might be able to track them still. "We will find them even if they have moved them from this location. They must have records here somewhere." Her tone is reassuring even if there is a rumble to the tone as her own anger builds at so many young ripped from their mothers.
<< If they are not here, then they are somewhere and if they have been sold... >> Seren growls the word out, as if he could tear into it with his teeth. << I will tear their owners apart. >> Clearly, he could have said more but refrains, either to not give the thoughts power or to keep himself from being defeated before they're finished. So he plods on to check cages, reassure those who can understand and at least present calm to those who cannot.
This generator has become Adelard's new favorite vent space. Enough so that he just... Actually slams down onto the thing without a moment's care as to whether or not this is about to /suck/ royally. Which it /does/, let's be clear. Industrial generators hold /a lot/ of electricity, and that's... Well, Adelard destroys the thing, and soaks that electricity for his trouble. It's enough to inspire a great, rolling roar from the dragon, the sort that sounds like the thunder, the sound that gave him his name. Maybe that's why it isn't enough to put him down, or put him on the ground, Adelard's always had a special place in his heart, in his /blood/, for storms and those elements that come with them. That venting, and that pain, is enough to give him focus back, though. Less driven by his rage, as the electricity finally stops coursing, he shakes himself and surveys what will come in response to the destruction.
Well that's... the kind of image that's gonna stick around for a little while. The great cat does not interfere, but there is a low, soft chuff of a very specific variety sent the old dragon's way once he's shaken himself free of the worst. It's the best he can offer right now, but with that kind of crash, zap, roar, he also doesn't figure there's going to be a lot of free time very quickly.
And he's right. The whole facility shuts down momentarily, leaving pitch blackness before the emergency lights have a chance to kick in. Having just that little bit of light is great for creatures like cats, who see very well in the low light. The /not/ so great part is that it /also/ triggers an alarm. Luckily for Seren and Niccia, the booted feet stomp-running their way through the halls all seem to be headed out back. A+ distraction, boys. Hope you like fomori-flavored shock troops.
That next room is much more fruitful. The door is locked, but through the viewing window, a series of juvenile leopards can be seen in cages. It's hard to tell without smell, but they look to be the right age and about six of them get very excited at the sight of black leopard face on the other side of the door.
Niccia runs a hand down the door as the faint blue glow of gnosis escapes from under her hand. There is a click and the door opens. She gives it a gentle push then steps aside to let the leopard in to the room. While he investigates she continues to look for records, they have sold so many animals they will be years in liberating them all.
Seren doesn't want to let himself hope and it shows in the way he slinks up to the door, sniffing at the frame desperate for any hint of scent. He gives a low growl and hits his shoulder against the door more to punish it for being locked than any real belief that it will make a difference. << I cannot smell through it! >> Once Niccia works her magic, he gives a grateful look and steps in. He's cautious still as he investigates, careful to offer no threat. That caution suddenly slips away as he immediately moves in to comfort his cubs and inspect them for wounds and tending the ones he finds. At least he spares a moment to inform Niccia that his own have been found.
<Gods of Old> Niccia says, "We have his cubs and oh so many more to move."
That chuff is met but a large, dragonish huff. It's as close as he can manage to replicating the sound. Adelard shakes himself again, trying to dispel the last of the tingling from the electricity. The darkness doesn't bother him, accustomed to the dark of the deep, but the moments before things begin are things that wind him right back up. It's not the edge of rage again, but this is the place Adelard /eats/, and he readies himself to swallow some motherfuckers when they emerge.
Oncoming Storm heals 1 levels. Oncoming Storm loses one Lethal Damage
<Gods of Old> Oncoming Storm says, "Excellent."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Understood. The alarms may be an unexpected boon. If they all rush us, you can come in and pick a few off from behind. Knock out the bulk of the force at once so we can call in Andrea and the transport trucks."
Haroun takes 4 levels of damage.
Haroun takes 2 levels of damage.
Oncoming Storm takes 1 level of damage.
The Fomori leading this charge is an ugly thorny motherfucker, and Haroun wastes no time in pouncing at his face. He lands a good solid bite in the guy's shoulder, which bleeds a lot and (judging by the yell of agony) hurts like a bitch, but isn't fatal. That proximity, however, opens him up to a vicious elbow-thorn right in the soft place above his eye and that is... that is a /lot/ of blood. Right before there's a short spray of automatic gunfire and two bullets hit him in the neck and put him on the /ground/. It isn't long before the first of them is pushed out by his body's own natural ability to heal, but he isn't moving yet.
The second fomori, enraged by the giant blue sea monster making snacks out of his minions, charges forward to double-elbow the dragon snoot........... and SOMEHOW MISSES. One of the other goons manages to get a bullet lodged into dragon-hide, but the other one to try that tactic... also misses. Which, you know, to be /fair/, it's a very /scary/ big dragon and no one is good at aiming at things when also wetting themselves.
Oncoming Storm gains one Magical Essence
The Black sabertooth's path takes it outside and there it stops for a moment to gawk at the dragon. It's a look of shock and awe, I mean really how often does one get to see a dragon that is not CGI. Perhaps this is the reason the cat pretty much wiffles the target of it's ire leaving it standing with only light wounds. Somewhere in the cosmic realms where this cat's noble lineage watches some wise ass no doubt comments, <She hits like a girl.>
Fuck these guys in particular. Allowing himself to be fueled by his Rage again, Adelard snaps down on the nearest minion he can spot. It's a vicious, unforgiving thing, the way teeth come down with a sickening snap-crunch and then the goon is swallowed down. It's a motion that seems /natural/ like this is the most sensible way to fight, simply eating your enemy as you go. Dwarfed under him, what more could these foul beasts be but particularly uppity snacks? That they manage to put Rou on the ground, however, is a terrible, terrible mistake on their front. A second minion is crushed in huge jaws and swallowed down, and as Adelard rounds on the Fomori that did the vast majority of the damage to Rou, there is a deep roll of thunder from inside his chest. It's a challenge, direct and unforgiving. No one need speak reptile to understand a stare and a sound like that.
Look, Seren is all about letting cats fight their battles, no matter what, but he's been WAITING for this. That Niccia's target has the audacity to still be standing? It's entirely unacceptable. Of course, that WOULD be his thought process if his brain didn't shut down in favor of pure rage as he sees the first killable target since his escape from his cage. So, instead of something witty or even useful (like, incoming), he simply tears into the figure with the intent to rend it to shreds. He'll awe over the dragon later when his vision clears and he sees more than red.
Haroun heals 1 levels.
Oncoming Storm heals 1 levels.
Conscious but not yet strong enough to feel like making himself a target by letting these fuckheads /know/ he can get up, Haroun lies very still while the second bullet is pushed out by his body's ability to heal. That's still a lot of blood coming from this head wound and a significant amount of pain, but that only serves to fuel the rage that he channels heavenward. The rumble of Adelard's thunder is followed in short order by an /actual/ crash of thunder right above their heads, and a bolt of lightning that causes the fomori standing victoriously over the great cat's body to /just explode/ like a gory hand grenade. He repeats the silent call to the sky a second time once he's given himself a moment to breathe, offing the very last goon in the exact same manner, though this guy is less dramatic about dying. Grease spot versus gutsplosion. After that, though, the suncat is going to lie very still and do his best to ignore the pounding headache that makes every blare of that alarm feel like a short burst of hell.
This one poor goon, he does his best. He takes a shot at the dragon, but it bounces off blue hide with a ting. Luckily for him, he only has about half a second to be thoroughly embarrassed before there is thunder and he knows no more.
There is a /split/ second where Adelard looks /legitimately/ surprised as that lightning flashes down and explodes the first Fomor. The truth of what has happened dawns on him rapidly, but still. That one gone, Adelard turns his rage on the other Wyrm-twisted creature, snarling as he snaps down onto the barbed beast. It crunches under his huge jaws just as easily as the minions, swallowed down with the same cold practicality. As for the one that shoots him? He barely notices, the muscle in his flank twitching ever-so-slightly in answer to the glance from that bullet. Don't bring a gun to a dragon fight, kids. Turning his gaze slowly upon that goon, he growls again, slowly opening his jaws to swallow him too when lightning strikes down the man instead. Adelard whips his huge, frilled tail in a vicious but satisfied display, digging sharp claws into the ground under him.
<Gods of Old> Oncoming Storm says, "Heal him, sharp sister, I will mind your back while you do."
Niccia begins to make the rounds among the shredded flesh the were once human for the most part. Haroun is the first stop as she runs her hands over the bloody fur, "I hope you have very large trucks, their are enough here to fill them." There is a little scritching of fur and a tug at an ear in a comforting manner as gnosis seeps from her hands. "Hold still I don't want the round one to worry about you."
Niccia loses one Magical Essence
Haroun heals 4 levels.
Seren moves from one target to the next without taking the time to even look satisfied with his own kill. He has anger to work out and these targets are the only one he has. So? He's going to make a mess of them. He digs his claws in everywhere he can, his teeth ripping at whatever his claws don't rend, spattering blood and bits everywhere, even when his target is far past the living stage.
Feeling Niccia's magic flowing through him is a blessed relief. <<He isn't round anymore.>> First thing out of his mouth. <<We have a little girl.>> So smitten with her already. <<Thank you.>> He doesn't interfere with Seren's outlet for his rage - that's just sort of an unspoken rule among the changers, so long as the targets are acceptable ones. Hauling himself to his feet, he shakes his fur and nuzzles at Niccia's hip once before trotting over to lean against the blue dragon's chest for the nesting he knows is imminent.
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "I wasn't supposed to drop lightning until I was ready for Andrea to start her drive, so they should already be on their way."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "But I also don't particularly like having a thorn in my brain."
As Niccia moves over to Rou, the dragon follows. Protective, he stands over the two Bastet, plenty large enough to not interfere with their movement. He dips his head, though, so he can watch toward the facility, and so it can work as a shield if need be for his two pridemates below him. His tail curls around his legs, offering protection behind him and to one side as well, so that Adelard has formed three-sided and top cover. Once Rou is up and ready to move, he does relax some, but only so far as to bend down and nose at the great cat affectionately. There's still a solid amount of paranoia, however, and he doesn't take his gaze from the facility while he does so. This can count as nesting for now, it allows freedom of movement if anyone needs it, and in a situation like this, especially for cats, that can mean all the difference.
You paged Niccia with 'There's a definite shiver down her spine. A supernatural sense that just because they won here does not mean they /won/. Something has woken up - or /is/ waking up - and whatever it is, it feels /old/. Ancient.'
Despite the reassurance of the nosing from the old dragon, the giant suncat is ony momentarily affectionate. Halfway through the motion he goes entirely, /eerily/ still. Like ice trickling through his veins, there is something that makes all of his fur stand on end and it /takes/ him a moment to realize that he is /growling/. <<Niccia, get the obnoxious woman's keycard. We need to move fast and we'll be fastest if the kin that can understand one of us are cooperative.>> The need for speed doesn't seem terribly apparent, but he is definitively uneasy. <<Whisperwish, go with her in case there are more guards.>> He'll take a moment to utilize pride-bond to translate that for the old dragon, but then he is off on still-silent paws, obviously Very Concerned... if not terribly informative.
Niccia looks around then at the the others, "We should leave as soon as we can. Perhaps we should get the animals ready for transport." She offers another scritch to the head of the leopard "Stop reading my mind." As the cat wanders off she heads back inside to get the item requested. As they move through she keep and eye on the umbra seeking the four spirits that don't seem like they should be here. Her lips move as she silently runs over the names of the ancient fallen.
<Gods of Old> Oncoming Storm says, "Could I trouble you for context?"
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "We woke something up."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "I don't... I have never in my life felt /slimy linen/ but it is the only descriptor I can think of."
<Gods of Old> Niccia says, "Something very old by the feel of it. Perhaps not related but the oldest spirits I saw in the umbra here reflect the ancients lost in the war of rage. Boar, bull, bat and Otter, they were almost faded from existence."
Seren is suddenly the picture of calm as he nods and heads off with Niccia. His attention is on his surroundings and he remains silent lest he distract her. This is important business. More lives than just those of his cubs are on the line, as much as he would like to prioritize his own. Of course, said obnoxious woman is still getting that look of judgment, even if she's long since past such things. You're never too dead for a cat to judge you.
This is an odd situation for Adelard. Staying in Archid is the only sensible thought with Rou that ConcernedTM. But that rules out following Niccia, and it rules out following Phillipe when he's being quick and quiet. So he takes a couple steps in the direction Phillipe moves in, though not enough to interfere with his stealth. And then he goes still, save for one twitch of an ear frill that leads into a shudder down his long spine.
<Gods of Old> Oncoming Storm says, "Phillipe, don't go poking at that."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Why? I'm not easy to hear coming and I don't like surprises."
<Gods of Old> Oncoming Storm says, "That is, almost certainly, one of the Maeljin. Not sure /exactly/ which one, but if anything is going to see through cunning and stealth, it is /that./"
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "...the what?"
<Gods of Old> Oncoming Storm says, "The right hands of the Urge Wyrms. The spirits that are capable of taking shapes contained enough to fulfil their desires outside of Malfeas."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Mrrrrr"
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "I've felt something like this before."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "But not like this."
<Gods of Old> Oncoming Storm says, "Get /out/ of there, Phillipe. Please."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "...fine."
The ID badge and the woman's tablet are taken and if her phone is on her person Niccia will take it as well. All the gps tracers on the electronics will be turned off before storing them. Then Niccia will head back down to get the leopard's cubs, the one with the burned neck will be healed before letting it an it's healthy sibling on to the floor. The malnourished one she will off to carry unless it's father wishes that task. Before she begins to check other cages trying to identify kinfolk first as they will be the easiest to get to follow.
<Gods of Old> Oncoming Storm says, "Thank you."
That's the saddest thing... they're /all/ kin. Every. Last. One of them. And the skinny juvenile is content enough to be picked up by someone kind who speaks cat, but there are some bandages on their abdomen that can be felt in the process.
Phillipe diverts from his chosen path, looping back around to huff in feline displeasure at the old dragon before trotting inside and out the front door to check for any last humans that need eating and give Andrea a landmark to drive up to out front once they run out of road.
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "They'll need your help with the reptiles."
<Gods of Old> Oncoming Storm says, "Yeah. I wanted to make sure whatever you'd felt wasn't going to eat you."
<Gods of Old> Oncoming Storm says, "I'm on my way, Niccia."
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "I'm not easy to eat."
Adelard transforms into a seemingly normal man.
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "I know."
Shifting back down to homid, Adelard turns away once he knows Phillipe is on his way back. He doesn't waste time following Niccia, either. In fact, it's one of the few times in Adelard's recent memory that he's legitimately /run/ in Homid - Something beyond a light jog. Finding his way to Niccia's position with the help of their Totem's bond, he looks around and hisses low, barely a sound humans can even make, and listens.
Seren seems to weigh the situation before making a decision. The other two are formidable enough and it's not as if he can't shift quickly enough. FORTUNATELY he was wearing pants before he made the intelligent and well thought out decision to try to infiltrate this place. No shoes, no shirt, but at least his backside (or anything else, for that matter) isn't out in the breeze. "I will carry him. You, at least, know what you are doing." Otherwise? He'll just do what he's asked to and help out as best he can.
Niccia looks at the cub's father and eventually gives him back his young. She eventually finds the still nursing tiger cub and picks it up. The older ones are gathered up as best she can as she is literally herding cats. Giving up she shifts back to chatro and uses nose and paw to get them moving the tiger cub easily carried in her jaws.
There are a small chorus of answering hisses and at least three rumbles too low for human ears but able to be felt through the floor. Their enclosures are, for the most part, smaller and easier to move out front to await loading. The three big guys, though, a mated pair of Nile Crocodiles and an old Lousiana alligator, they are quite convinced that they can walk to this 'out' business on their own damn selves, thankyouverymuch. At least the cats are all easy to convince. Go out that way, wait with the ReallyBigCat, get on trucks, get out of here. What a great game. There are still foxes, bear cubs, a small pack of what look like arctic wolves, and three /very/ small hyena pups. No birds, though. No spiders, either. /Definitely/ no sharks. Small mercies, right? At least Andrea's team will be able to move most of the small to medium cages quickly. They drill for this sort of thing.
Well this is just /great./ Sighing, Adelard shakes his head, but opens the cages of the larger reptiles to let their stubborn selves get as far into the out as they can manage while he moves smaller cages. Need be, he will in fact break this room apart and carry cages in his /mouth/ and kin on his /back/ but he's hoping to avoid that option just yet. Trying to focus enough to be able to /speak/ to these animals is... Well, he doesn't manage it just yet. But once the smaller reptile cages are moved, it's the fox cages he means to move on to next.
The black sabertooth waits outside with the young cats they gathered up. The most rambunctious are kept in line with a large paw holding them down as she bathes them with her tongue. In the end all the young get touched, groomed a little, and given social contact they may well have been denied. The tiger cub she keeps between her front legs to make sure none of the larger cubs step on her. When the trucks arrive she lays her head on the cub, no tiger cub here.
The great thing about the very young is that, as long as you treat them as gently as you would your own, they at least respond with less fear. That being the case, Seren sets himself to the task of getting his own share of orphans settled into some reasonable semblance of calm, if not order. There's so many, and it's fairly clear that he'd add a few more to his own if he could. He's spent a year not able to parent his own cubs, after all. (Seriously, there are only three cubs there. Nothing to see here. Move along.)
Once Niccia has the bulk of the cubs and juveniles outside, Haroun takes his share of babysitting duty. It's been happening a lot in his life, lately. Some universal payback for Valentin having to be the one /carrying/, probably. He does not complain about it this time, and when the trucks arrive, helps Niccia to load all of the cats into the back of a large and spacious van. Cuddlepile on the ride home. <<One of us should ride back here with them. Perhaps Whisperwish would like to?>> Since he can imagine not wanting to be separated from babies right now is super a thing.
And luckily, Andrea's team /does/ drill for this kind of thing. When the vans pull in, they are backed toward the entrance with doors open and a remarkably efficient game of Tetris is played. They manage to get 3/4 of all the animals loaded safely before an anachronistic crash of thunder comes from nowhere and an icy wind chills everyone to the bone... whether they're outside or not.
"Well, well, well." The voice is smooth, rich, and full - colored with a /lovely/ Southern drawl that makes him seem somehow... so reasonable. "What have we here?" A pale man in an expensive suit /strolls/ right on out the front door with both hands in his pockets like it's a Sunday afternoon stroll. "Now, you fine folks wouldn't be absconding with private property, would you?" He clicks his tongue in mock disapproval, a cruel grin slowly splitting his face. "I'm afraid that's just downright uncalled for. These fine people are trying to responsibly and ethically conserve these here endangered animals, and I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to cease and desist." Definitely a Mississippi drawl. There's really no mistaking it.
You paged (Seren, Niccia) with 'Since you two are seeing the Umbra now, you would see a much larger version of this man in the Umbra, looks almost like he's puppeting the man in the suit. But his suit is ragged and covered in /slime/. Putrescent, rotting slime. And these eyes are /glowing/.'
That icy chill in the air is enough to give Adelard a moment of pause. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes, pulling memories from long, long ago that will let him speak to these animals. Now, the various species aren't a problem for him. Thus, this goes a bit more fluidly. Opening cages and being able to /tell/ kin, "I know I'm not familiar but we are here to help, go outside and let them help you." Is so much easier. The foxes /are/ first, and it's the wolves he's turning to when the man appears. His eyes narrow, but does not stop, nor respond, intent to get what of these kin out that he can before... Whatever is about to happen, happens.
Seren is, in fact, already preparing for just that. Fortunately, he's already shifted by the time that chill wind comes in, though that does little to negate the cold. Nor does it negate his reaction TO that cold. Instinct dictates that he secure his cubs and those young closest to him before he puts himself between them and this /thing./ He gives a low, warning growl that is aimed more at getting others behind him than to warn this creature off.
The sabertooth's hackles rise, the jaws gape and a hissing sound slips from the cat. Putting herself between the vans and the man. Claws dig in to the soil and the body coils in threat display. The more the cubs loaded in to the van mewl and make noise the more the female responds with that instinct to protect.
Haroun is... exactly zero help right now, alas. From the minute that man opened his mouth, the Bagheera's eyes glazed over and the pride-bond is nothing but manic, juvenile fear and grief and rage - the kind of loss that leaves scars on a soul and a thirst for vengeance that even brutal murder doesn't quite sate. He jumps forms to Crinos and starts advancing on the source of that voice with heinous, brutal snarling and snapping of jaws.
With an indrawn breath, Haroun becomes a massive, rose-gold bagheera-crinos leopard-man. Partial Delirium is in effect. (See +rules Delirium)
"That isn't terribly polite of you, now." The man does not show fear of the nine foot tall furry death blender advancing on him. In fact, he almost seems pleased. "I've only come to talk and here you are threatening me with violent death." That smile, cruel and sharp, spreads slowly into an almost taunting grin. "After all, I'm not the one who killed your mother, young man. I'd say your anger is terribly displaced... I'd hate to see what a jury would award me for your... primitive behavior."
The thing is, mother-killing is a sore spot and Seren has had to deal with a LOT today. Not to mention all of the days that have been leading up to this one. He'd just LOVE to get his claws into this slimy(LITERALLY) bastard and feed the ground his blood. Fortunately, he's not going to just leap in on a whim. He's let these new allies take the lead thus far and it will stay that way.
The sound in the bond are enough for Adelard. It's all he can do to toss open cages and give hurried instructions as he heads out the door. "You support the mutilation of innocents and the destruction of families and you sling the word 'primitive' at anyone else?" Adelard rounds on this man with a sudden purpose, "Keep your judgements to yourself, foul tongued beast, lest you make a fool of yourself." Placing himself between the would-be Southern Gentleman and Haroun, he shifts back to his Archid form, though his attention is mostly for Haroun. He'll take him in his mouth too, if he has too, but he's hoping that the way he pushes back against Haroun with his huge nose is enough to give him a moment to shake free.
Unfortunately, this is not the kind of thing that Haroun can will himself out of - not even with the gentle bump-push of suede-soft blue nose to try and help him. That voice keeps talking and he cannot shake the thing that grips him - no longer here and now, but long ago and far away. He tries to side-step the giant thing that is suddenly (anachronistically) in his way, desperate to get at the source of all this pain, this voice that just /will not/ leave him be.
Thankfully, Haroun is not the only one with the clout to give orders the whole team will follow. Andrea lives inside the supernatural and has enough awareness of Bad TimeTM to know when it is time to book it. "End of discussion, gentlemen. Move out, guys! /Now/." And it's a good thing too, because even the Awareness-dense among the group can feel the build of magic surrounding the well-dressed man. Big, big magic.
So much for happy cuddle pile time, the big black cat ends up jumping in to the van with the lizards. The growling and general grumpiness should at least make for a peaceful ride to where ever they are going. The totem link is saturated with sounds and thoughts of concern and the incessant demand to know where Haroun is.
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "Not sure /exactly/ what's happening, but I'm going to try to drop him with you."
Well, if Rou won't come nicely... That's fine. He'll fit inside his mouth, even in Crinos. Not /comfortably/, mind, but he'll fit. Thus, Adelard tries to scoop up like the great reptile he is. Archid is not meant for carrying young like a reptiles mouth might be, but he's got more awareness of his own strength than a normal reptile might. He's just hoping Rou has enough distracting him to not put up too much of a fight. Please, Gaia. Not that Adelard is as quick as a truck, but if he's lucky he might be able to get Rou /on/ to one of the trucks while it starts to move. Himself? Well, he'll worry about that /after./
Seren only takes the time to make a low, comforting sound before settling in with his cubs to try to keep them and those around him calm. Taking care of others is his nature, now that he's not venting an entire year's worth of pent up anger on appropriate targets. Of course NOW he gets to worry about what becomes of himself and his family, so he'll just get right on with that. (There is still definitely not a small cub tucked in with the larger ones).
Being Very Suddenly Sideways And Off The Ground is a ... that's a shock to a system that is lost inside a memory where there was never /really/ any loss of contact with the ground. Ever. It's a jerk, a /hard/, almost convulsive movement, followed by clawed hands patting at teeth in an exploratory manner. Being inside Adelard's mouth isn't... the /weirdest/ place he's come to after a blank spot in his memory like that. So that's something, at least.
<Gods of Old> Haroun says, "Old man if you drop me I swear to -"
There isn't time to actually get an entire sentence out, however, before suddenly he is just...airborne? And then crash-landing on top of some smaller cages in a way that is equally jarring and terribly unpleasant.
The man in the suit doesn't move, but there is a single burst of magic just before a pitch dark cloud begins to emerge from... well, /him/. It's impossible to see through and it's traveling /fast/, but the vans aren't kidding around with 'move out' and they manage to keep ahead of the impossible blackness. Just. The kin manning the back of this van is thankfully significantly stronger than he looks. The door is stopped before it breaks anybody's neck, but he has about all of three seconds before these crates start to slide out the back - and take his boss with them.
<Gods of Old> Adelard says, "Only in the way I meant to."
Hero kin of the evening goes to... The guy holding the door. No, seriously. It's enough to scramble up, and Adelard moves to hold back these crates so the man can close the door and get out of the path of 'moving fast and heavy cage.' You know, it's probably going to getting at least moderately banged up, but at this point that is the /least/ of Adelard's concerns. What is also low on his 'concern' list? Any form of grace or dignity in these movements.
Thank Gaia for steady drivers. Creepers McGee back there with his Shroud cloud is /still/ laughing. That will be a fun problem to figure out.