2023.3.25:Delivery Service

From City of Hope MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search


03.25.23 Delivery Service
A donation pick-up from a local restaurant goes awry.
IC Date 03.25.23
IC Time Night
Players Rhapsody, Pandora,Jackie,Trey,Jack Morrison, Irsa (ST), Branton (Post-Convo)
Location Enzio's -- Broadway & Harvey Way, Harbor District; Sept of the Enduring Spirit
Spheres Bastet, Garou, Kinfolk



Enzio's -- Broadway & Harvey Way, Harbor District:

Enzio's is a plain brick building, a local hole-in-wall restaurant located three buildings east from the intersection. An alleyway leads to the restaurant's loading dock. A plain, dingy white panel truck is parked out back. Two dumpsters are located just off the end of the loading dock, making it super-handy for employees to walk out the rear door to dump their trash. Rats are plentiful here: the dumpsters offer the perfect spot to scavenge for food.

This is NOT a nice section of town. The buildings are old, dating back to the early 1800s, the streets are caked with dirt and oil stains, and haven't been repaired in decades. Trash, cigarette butts and broken glass is everywhere. There's a heavy drag of despair and hopelessness that seems to fill the 'air' within the area, simply lingering about like a second pungent wind. The humans you see here have little hope -- many are homeless or petty criminals.


Dock 2.jpg


What a wonderful night to be alive! It's been a long week, filled with all kinds of crazy things, and even more importantly? It's a crescent moon, and Irsa is keyed-up with nervous energy. Her normal volunteers are tending to other business, so she's contacted each of you for assistance. Enzio's is a family business, not Kinfolk run, but they're sympathetic to the homeless and have been a good source of donations for many years. Irsa has promised to treat you all to dinner if you can lend a hand with the transport. How are you wonderful folks getting to the place, your ST wonders?


Trey decides that given that it's not a great part of town, he's taken the bike to somewhere safer in town, and then wandered over on foot. He arrives dressed in his usual lack of style, knapsack on his shoulder.


Jackie shows up in her car, since apparently something needs transporting and a motorcycle's probably not the best choice for that.


Rhapsody will drive her van from the tenement to Enzio's, parking as close as she can find a spot. The van is cleared out to help haul anything and people necessary. Her usual bag is with her and she has brought some fresh herbs from her garden to give them in thanks.


Jack is arriving via Bitchin' Sweet Van. That is to say, a shitty van that's vaguely vomit-in-snow colored and still has a bit of shag carpeting glued - FOR ETERNITY - to the inside. He's not *supposed* to be driving, but if you cant push your luck with the law, then what's the point of living? He parks the thing by the curb just down the block and spends some time trying to figure out what he's doing, does he have everything, etc. This would be easier with his brother around. Without him here, Jack's a little bit of a mess, mentally. He hops out, starts towards the place. The back tracks to get his wallet, and lock the doors, and THEN go towards Enzio's.


Irsa is waiting for the group out back, leaning against the loading dock. She has the panel truck in park, engine off, with the rear doors of the panel truck propped open. "Hey, y' made it! Good timin', they just brough th' donations out." Sure enough, a large number of crates and boxes are stacked up on the dock. "This won't take long with all of us. Fifteen minutes tops, and that's includin' all the Tetris-ing. I hope you're hungry, this place makes some of th' best grub in town."


Pandora comes along, taking a bite of popcorn from a little bag she's carrying and looking around to make sure that nothing's going to jump out and bite them. "How can I help??"


Trey offers waves to each of the others as they arrive; he's more than happy to play hauler-dragger-lifter and tag along with whoever's got space. He's used to hoofing it, so that's what he did. Plus, you can't haul much on a bike. "Okay, so let's load from the furthest to the nearest," he says, "So we can Tetris closer in, if that makes sense." And with that, he's moving to pick up some crates and head for the furthest vehicle.


Jackie parks next to the panel truck and hops out. After a quick look at the piles of stuff, she moves to follow Trey. "Just packing up the truck then? Where are we taking it all after?"


Rhapsody looks over the amount of crates. "Do you think it will fit in the two vans? Even with tetris'ing? Or wait - which vehicles are we using?" She begins counting them all first.


Jack has a way of walking that's very gut-first, a slight easy going lean back that comes from carrying around a lot of beer gut. "Hey what's up, party people!" he says, meaning 'hello, fellow Gaians!'. "Oh heck yeah, I've been craving lasagnia all day, dawg." He'd roll up his sleeves to help, but he's in a teeshirt, so he JUST gets ready to help move stuff. And also offer high fives around to people.


It doesn't take long to load up. It actually takes less time than expected -- the restaurant staff made things easier with their clever packaging. Twelve minutes later, the last crate is loaded, and Irsa shuts the doors. "Done an' done! Lemme get th' keys, I don't want this shit stolen while we're orderin' grub. We're stopping by Dead Mall," she tells Jackie. She steps away from the others to do just that, but she doesn't get there. A manhole cover explodes out from under her feet, and she falls in like a sack of bricks with a startled yell. Figures dart from the end of each alley, bracketing the group in -- 3 people on each side, all wearing leather jackets stitched with a logo depicting a skull wrapped in a chain. "GET 'EM!" the largest one shouts, a burly Hispanic dude wielding a chain.


Trey looks around at the various vans and cars -- 2 vans, one car -- and says, "Not sure, but I think we can make it work." And lo, they do! After, he turns at the sound of Irsa not approaching, and curses. "Well, shit," he says with a growl. "ASSHOLE BRIGADE INCOMING!" And with that, he turns to whichever member of the brigade is nearest and moves to push him back, out of the alley. With no luck, the guy easily shoves his grip off. You know, there's a reason Bastet are the EYES of Gaia and not, say, the Fists of Gaia.


Rhapsody attempts to disarm the guy coming with the chain after Trey tries with him. Sadly they are too closely matched for either to get the upper hand.


Pandora is just leaning over to pick up the scraps of the broken box when people start to come out of nowhere. "Oh, fuck. Really." Irsa falls in a hole. "Someone get Irsa!" And then things are happening and the ragged piece of box that she's got in her hand is flung like a frisbee. "Fuck you, dude."


Jackie ducks between the vehicles, leaving the shifters to do the heavy lifting for the moment. She peeks up through the windows, furrowing her brow as she looks over the sudden assailants.


Speaking of Assholes! The leader sees Trey coming and ducks the blow. He lets out a angry growl as Rhapsody joins in on the dogpile and dodges her blow as well. This is his chain, damn it. "FUCK 'EM UP!" he yells, not skeered of the non-existant cops at all. The tall, gangly dude next to him is smacked in the head by Pandora's hurled crate piece. CRACK! If you look closely, you might see tiny cartoon birds whirling above his noggin. Somehow, SOMEHOW, he manages to flail just out of Jack's range when the Glass Walker takes a swing at him.


The gang explodes into action! The leader takes a swig at Trey and misses. A short, stocky dude tries to stab Rhapsody, but the blade gets caught up her clothing and is harmlessly deflected. The gangly dude takes that effort to remove his head quite poorly and closes with Pandora. Meanwhile! At the other end of the alley the rest of the gang charges in! The sole woman in the gang goes for Jackie, but her spiked pipe goes right over the mechanic's head as Jackie dives like a pro. Another gangmember with a large scar on his swarthy face just clean misses Jack. The last stops in his tracks as he hears yelling and the sounds of combat echoing from the manhole, and peeks down.


Trey gets smacked with an oncoming chain, and while he tries to dodge, he apparently hasn't fought much with people with big metal necklaces. It knocks him for a loop for half a second; he shakes off the effect on his focus but his face is already starting to look like the wrong end of a dead moose. That is enough to piss off the normally easygoing cat. He growls his Rage and grabs for a nearby trash can, using it to add force to a body slam on Chain Dude. Chain Dude, however, saw it coming, and the can winds up sort of blipping off his forearm. Womp, womp.


Rhapsody is just having none of this, and YOINK! "Ah ha! It's mine now! Now, how about we talk this out?" She offers while she drops the chain down to Irsa.


"GODDAMMIT, FUCKING QUIT, YOU LITTLE BITCH!" Pandora shrieks as she flings the board that probably has at least a small nail in it somewhere, right at dude man. "Hurting people isn't nice!"


Jackie comes out of her duck with a punch aimed at her attacker's midsection. Bitch's got a damned pipe! "Trying to steal donations for homeless people? What the fuck is wrong with you assholes?!"


Where the hell IS Irsa, anyway? The group hears strangled yells and angry snarls coming from the manhole, sounding a bit further away. The gang leader is NOT happy to have his chain stolen by Rhapsody, but his blow slides off the dodging theurge. Trey's getting the smoke from gangly dude and takes a nasty stab wound in the side. Jackie nearly gets beaned by spiked bat girl, but manages to get the open door between them and escaped damage. That poor van. Pandora is locked in combat now with the dude near the manhole cover, since gangly dude ran off.


Jack, mighty tackler cave man that he is, did succeed in getting a dude down. And then while trying to slap fight the fellow into submission and yelling "WE GOT THIS, GUYS! WE GOT-" his target throws his fat ass off and Jack "AAAAHHHHH!"'s his way into a pile of shit in the alleyway.


Trey is hurt worse than he expected; it'll regenerate, but that doesn't do shit for the pain. In fury, he lashes out at the gangly dude with the knife, but the result is more like 'slap fight' than 'warrior.'


Jackie twists to the side and then dips low to get under the pipe, then comes rocketing up from the street in an anger and desperation fueled uppercut that somehow connects perfectly. She watches in surprise as the ganger is lifted off her feet, her head rolling back as she collapses to the pavement like a lump of leather wrapped shit.


Horrible screams sound from the manhole -- monstrous sounds, like the sound of a dozen hissing kettles mingled with the wailing screech of a banshee. "Something's got Consuela!" the guy by the open manhole yells. "Shit-- go help her!" the brawny gangleader shouts, trying to get around Rhapsody. The dude engaged with Jack clocks the Glass Walker across the jaw, knocking him clean out. The rest of the gang breaks off combat and bolts for the manhole!


Treads-on-Thin-Ice is bolted past; the blood he can tasrte in his mouth answers the question of ages: when will you rage? the answer... is NOW. The Bastet shifts, drawing on hs fury to turn into a saber-toothed cat, and pounces the knifewielder from behind, bringing the manprey down to the ground, useless.


Rhapsody turns as the dudes are all attempting to get to the manhole and she manages to trip the leader and BOOM down he goes. Not enough to damage him, but enough to take him off his feet.


The gang is blasted back from the manhole as a horrible creature barrels through them. It's vaguely feminine, but the body is twisted and gnarled, covered with hundred of warts, wide patches of scaly leprous skin, and several deep, raking wounds from claws. Worst of all is the clothes its wearing: a battered leather jacket with the logo of a skull, wrapped in a chain -- Jackie, this is obviously Consuela, their true leader. She's rushing away in a blind panic, banging into every garbage can and dumpster on the way. She hasn't seen the shifter bloods blocking her route of escape.


Jackie spots the horrid monstrosity bursting up out of the underground, and vaults herself into the driver's seat of the panel truck. She jams the keys over, and the instant the engine fires up she drops the truck into gear and guns the accelerator to send the massive beast lurching into the less massive yet much uglier beastie, slamming her into an alley wall with a sickening crunch.


Van-crash.gif


Rhapsody has just had it with this guy and the Theurge, normally so peaceful, makes a swift kick right into the gang leaders yambag, making him think twice if he will ever produce children and most likely going to be in pain for weeks and she kicks the crap out of him. Possibly literally.


The gang loses their collective minds when Consuela goes down under the van's wheels and crunches into a wall. The survivors rush the group -- one is in a panic, trying to knock Pandora over to reach Consuela, but the Star Gazer takes the blow like a champ and shrugs it off. Jackie is pulled from the car by another gangmember, but they can't get into the van to free their boss just yet. Meanwhile, Rhapsody channels Mercy and just... yeah, it's ugly. Don't look kids, you'll be scarred for life. A vicious snarl announces Irsa's return, as she pops her Crinos head out of the manhole cover. >> Fucking LEECH! <<


Jackie oofs as she's hurled from the van, then rolls away and underneath the other one to catch her breath while the rest get a turn to clean up.


Treads-on-Thin-Ice growls from his perch atop a downed ganger, and moves to pounce on the one who dared to grab Jackie, because he hasn't gotten in his RDA of Not Getting His Ass Kicked yet. His wound is healing but the cat is still bloody as he moves to pull down his prey like a pro and smile at it with TEEFIES bigger than their knives. CATBITE!


Pandora got distracted for a second or two, but when that guy bumps her, she spins around and as he runs past, she grabs him by the hair and jerks him back (She even stays on her feet). The guy spins around and she just CHOMP! Bites him. Just really really hard on the arm and that distracts him enough for someone else to come in and finish him off!


Jack comes to! Having gotten knocked out, he lost his Glabro and snoozed it out in Homid form. So when he wakes up he looks like a messy hobo surfer that's SO confused right now. When the hell did a fight start? Where am I? Why do I have half a soggy hot pocket stuck to my belly button? It takes a second to sort things out mentally, but he pretty quickly figures out friend from foe and attempts to sucker punch... literally anyone. PREFERABLY not a friend, but like he's got old pickle juice in his eye and his dice suck.


Rhapsody looks around as the gang leader is down and grabbing his crotch in the worst pain of his life, and smelling like shit literally, and she jumps over him and as Pandorfa bits the guy she has, she'll use her super power foot that booted the leader to boot him! Yambag city once again, because that is what a fury will do when she needs to take a dude out.


The group has made one hell of a mess. It's a miracle that none of the staff stepped out to have a smoke break, but hey! Someone probably heard fighting outside and noped the fuck right out of there. The last of the gang goes down in a flurry of bites, punches and dick-kicks, which is a sentence you don't see every day. Irsa painfully hauls herself out of the manhole, squeezing her Crinos hips past the bottleneck. She's covered with bites and stab wounds. >> Fuckin' OW, << she grumbles. >> Who's hurt besides me? << Consuela is still pinned under that van, awaiting her Final Death.


Jackie rolls back out from under Jack's van once things get quiet and pushes herself up off the ground. She brushes herself off as she looks around, a small grimace coming over her features as she gets a look at the carnage. "Well, this was a night all right for fighting. It is Saturday, right? You ok there, Irsa?"


Treads-on-Thin-Ice curls into himself, the large sabertoothed mouth opening to free his large pink tongue. He shifts and with some difficulty, licks the stab wound closed with a series of decisive licks. He makes a groaning sound, and then shifts back to Homid.


Jack most likely missed in his helpful attempt to punch a guy, but whatever, he gets a participation award, so yay! And then he sees it, the terror from the deeps, the scourge of the under city, some nastyass werewolf here to take advantage of their dire situation, probably a BSD or something! "AAAAAAHHHHHH!" he shouts, and runs up to give Irsa a glancing and utterly harmless blow to the leg. Glancing, because he really sucks at fighting. And he's never seen Irsa in crinos before, so... Honest mistake by someone that's punch drunk and cant hit the broad side of a barn! "Oh, oh shit dude, I'm SO sorry!" he says in that 'please don't back hand me into a wall' tone of voice, cause like, why would a BSD be talking like they're friends and doing a health check on the good guys? They wouldn't, but a friend would! And now he's pretty sure the fight's over. Probably. Maybe.


Rhapsody checks out their combatents and can say, "The humans here are just terrible people. That one there.." she points to Consuela ".. needs to die. I do not know for sure what will work, I'm fresh out of holy water and garlic, but fire would work well, or we got a stake we can make? Or better - who wants to pull out claws and play reverse tetris?"


Trey exhales, getting to his feet. "This was my favorite shirt," he grumbles at the ruin of his CATZILLA tee. Then he says to Rhapsody, "Fire works. Probably smell like hell though. I've got a candle lighter thingie in my knapsack..." He looks around, and retrieves it from where he dropped it near the trash cans. "We got any alcohol or lighter fluid or whatever?"


Irsa grunts as she inspects her wounds. "Nothin' that won't heal. If someone can hit me up for some, I ain't gonna say no." She limps over to the van, peering down at the pinned Leech. "Holy shit. Nice job," she compliments Jackie. "And nice work on th' rest of these assholes. Uh --can we still drive th' van out of here, or is it totally fucked? I don't wanna stick around." She cracks her neck from side to side. "Those dudes there didn't flip out when I popped up," she points out. "Delirium, nada." Irsa has shrunk down into Glabro, by the way.


Trey exhales again and grabs Irsa's shoulder. "Shit, stay still so I can heal you," he says with a half-smile. And then he raises the ruins of her clothes and begins to lick the wounds to heal them, just like he'd done to himself. Assuming she doesn't smack the shit out of him.


Jackie looks towards the van, listening to the engine for a second. "It's still running. I wouldn't try to take it out of the city without checking the radiator though, I'll bet it's got a leak or three after that."


Rhapsody watches Trey licking Irsa, "I can help heal you without going through the licking. In fact, that kinda should be my job?" She looks a bit uncomfortable seeing that in fact.


Trey pulls back and spits out some loose fur. "Sorry. I just... yeah." He actually sorta looks embarrassed. "It's how the Gift works!" He looks up to the sky and says, "Mother Selene, I love you, but I'm sure you're getting a good laugh right now."


"I bet *that* hurts!" Man-Jack opines about having open wounds licked by sandpaper tongue. Speaking of wounds, he double checks himself over, and starts to panic when he sees all this blood all over himself! Wait, nope, nope that's tomato sauce. With a 'whew!' he says, "I'm okay." to make sure he's off the possible healing needed list. For now, he takes a gander around to see if there's anything that needs to be picked up, shoved back in the van, or whatever.


Irsa startles, but hey, she was warned. She looks a bit squicked out by the licking, but a Leech literally just tried to drink her blood. This is way less weird. Her wounds begin to close, but there's two others that remain open. "All good. Top me off, Rhapsody, these two are hella deep. She wrecked my shit 'til I shifted. Caught me completely by surprise."


Trey murmurs, with approval, "Goddamn, you're badass," looking around the pack-group with a smile. "Next time, I go cat right off and then pick 'em off from behind. None of this fighting in homid shit any more." He's honestly kind of embarrassed about his prowess or lack of same. He looks over at Jackie, then at Jack, and says, "You guys all okay?"


Rhapsody shrugs to Trey, "I understand that is a cat thing. Just... one of my things is to help heal in the pack and you are a friend." She steeps up to Irsa and helps her heal some more. "Does anyone else need healing? Jackie, are you ok?"


Trey nods to Rhapsody, and comments, "Well, considering my unimpressive showing in the fight, I wanted to contribute, is all. Didn't mean to jump into your shoes or anything," he says with genuine respect and a tip of his head. "I'll heal cleanup next time."


"Gross," Pandora says with all the licking. "Let's... um... let's get out of here before more shit happens."


"I'm good!" Jack says, and looks around to the others for that double check as well. "Just super gross!" He strips out of his disgusting teeshirt and lets that fat body fly, moobs and all, cause he's a MAN Jack, and he can. His teeshirt goes with the trash he just crawled out of, he's got others at home.


Irsa paces around the combat area once she's healed, laying out the fallen gang members in a ragged line. "Might wanna look away," she tells Jackie, waiting until the woman has done so before she starts snapping necks. "Miguel told us these people who serve Leeches are trash," she remarks. "We gotta get th' bodies outta here and dispose of 'em. And that Leech, too. I don't want that thing wakin' up and kicking our asses."


Jackie looks herself over to be sure, then shakes her head as she heads for her own wheels. "Nope, I'm fine. Got lucky, I guess. I'll take a look at the van when we get to the mall, I've got tools in my trunk."


"I got my own van just over there, I'll pull it forward and we can stash the bad guys in there." Jack offers, patting his pockets for keys and whipping them out. "Keep their nasty selves off the donations." He doesn't just run and do that though, the offer is out but he waits for the okay from a higher rank before acting.


Trey comes over to help with the neck-snapping. While he's not the best combatant, he's not about to leave a wounded enemy to go get more friends and attack again. "I gotta hit Miguel up for tactical info," he murmurs, offering his aid in moving bodies as well. Helpful cat.


Irsa fishes her cellphone out of her pocket and starts making calls. "Drive th' van outta here. I'll get some Gnawers over here t' clean up this mess. Rhapsody, can ya Cleanse us before we hit th' Mall? Van too. I don't plan on servin' up tainted grub to my Kin."


The rest of the group has gone, leaving Trey and Jack behind. A cold chill runs up your spines, as darkness begins to seep into the alleyway. You both dimly see a large snaggle-clawed hand, reaching out to touch the spot where the dead Leech met her end. "Foolish Childe," a deep, sonorous voice utters. The presence fades, as quickly as it appeared.’


Nosferatu Sire.jpg


ST Note: IC Post-PRP convo follows here, we return you to our regular formating!


Dead Mall - Commons

The entrance leads into an atrium whose floor tiles are mostly intact, gentle shades of tan and taupe creating simple designs bordered here and there by wood benches and plant boxes filled with growing vegetables. A pair of stalled escalators are neatly framed by garden beds, as is a glass elevator filled with scrap-metal sculptures of blackbirds hanging in flight or resting on the jagged branches of a scrap-metal tree. A large skylight bathes the atrium in natural light, illuminating a large sewn banner that hangs proudly overhead amidst large, climbable trees that have long outgrown their planters.

Shops line the hallways, repurposed into useful places that make this dead mall a place of street commerce. The hallways are filled with natural light, dotted with benches and boxes sprouting young greenery, and more large trees scattered about with their roots stubbornly breaking through their old planters and even the floors to drink from the flooded basement. There is bird song during the day mingled with the bustle of dozens of kinfolk residents, and the quiet rustle of rodents at night, small dishes of food, water, and bird seed strategically placed all over the mall for spirit and physical critters alike.


DMfront.jpg


The dock area is bustling: a number of Bone Gnawers and their Kin are unloading the damaged panel van. Irsa is chatting with a smaller woman about her foot shorter than herself, with a clear family resemblance.


Trey waves to them amiably, despite the ripped shirt covered in blood -- no, actually, he ditched that along the way, shifting to the backup he keeps in his backpack. All the donations are being reverse-Tetrised with the aid of the Bastet, as Trey says to Jack, "You, me, and Mike need to do some sparring together, work on our fighting, if you're game. Because after tonight? I need to work on my skills. Badly." He makes a face. "Since Mike and I regen in Homid, we can do it in near-man or something to make it fair."


Jack is also rockin his shirtless dad bod alongside Trey, smelling kinda terrible and still slightly smeared with garbage on various parts of his person. But he strides with confidence! In the umbra, a little frog hops after him, hanging back and getting distracted by things every few hops. "Fuck yes we do, homie. We are *not* made of awesome sometimes." And then, "WE SAW THE MOM!" he blurts out like *the second* he sees other shifter-family people. Which, out of context, means fuck all, but he's very alarmed by it none the less!


Branton was over at the Dead Mall helping out, like he does, and when a lot of folks started heading for the loading dock he heads that way too. He sees the group, some in various states of disarray and he asks "Everyone alright?" Jackie comes from the parking lot carrying a tool box and diverts to the front of the van, cleverly getting out of the lifting heavy things duty by popping the hood and inspecting the unfortunate side effects of her handiwork.


Irsa rubs her eyes. "Huh, what?" she says to Jack. "Mom of what?" The woman she's talking to chooses this moment to slip away. This is wolf business, and she's got a hot date with her shower after a long day at work. "Yeah, you missed all th' fun," she tells Branton. "But I'll let them tell it -- first battle in town! I think."


Trey looks around, noting the person who looks a lot like Irsa, saying to Jack, "Could be her sister, too. But definitely family." Don't ask him, he's bad with ages. That's his story, he's sticking to it. "You sound scared, man. Aren't moms good? I mean, from what you said about yours, she sounds like SHE is made of awesome, right? I mean, my mom was, as far as lynxes go." At the question, he mmms a bit dejectedly. He offers Branton a grin without his usual cocky nature, and says, "Eh, everyone's okay now, but... fuck, I wanna learn how to set fire to shit. Tonight was definitely NOT made of awesome," he quotes.


"Not monster-moms!" Jack insists at Trey, "Monster-moms are bad! Like, watch Jurrasic Park! Or that Godzilla remake with Matthew Broderick! WE SAW THE MOOOOOOOOOOM! Just fuckin'... Reached out and was like 'Muahahahahaha, silly child!'" He added the mustache twirling laugh, but still, like when you're conveying information about a vampire sire showing up, you just make the retelling as sinister as humanly possible." Also Jack may or may not have dead people in his van, the player is unsure on that note, but the offer was made!


Branton shrugs "I never got to know mine, she died when I was too little to remember and I wound up getting raised outside the nation by my dad and then his parents. My Gramma was made of awesome though. Lived by the Hillfok's Rede. Do no harm but take no shit." Then he mentions to Trey "Elemental attack spells aren't super useful in combat at the speeds shifters tend to run. I can help you work on some things, actually I have an enchantment based on an elemental attack gift from fox magic that you can probably work one out. I've tuned mine to fuel from my Mana but you could run it off of gnosis easy peasy."


Jackie faffs about in the engine compartment before coming back out and around to the group, wiping her hands on a rag. "Alright, it's not too bad. I can patch it for now, and if we can take it to the garage I do a more permanent job. Plus it wouldn't hurt to give the engine a once over, and make sure nothing important got knocked looser than it should be. Oh, hey Branton, I didn't realize you'd dropped by."


Trey ohs. "THAT Mom," he winces. "Yeah. That was... ten shades of fucking creepy and I don't think we've seen the last of that... Leech Mom. I think we're gonna need to deal with HER, too. Fire. Lots of fuckin' fire. That sounds just about perfect," he tells the Kin sorcerer. "More fire. I definitely want to look at the notes on that one, see if I can work it out for my own power." He stops, frowns, and backs up. "We all got jumped in the alley when we were loading up this delivery," he explains. "Some gang was there to start shit, and then a manhole cover went loose and Irsa fell in. So we had like three on each end, and then the big bad down below."


Those dead people were totally removed from Jack's van, and the whole vehicle was thoroughly Cleansed by one of the theurges here. Irsa blinks at Jack. "Fuckin' what? There was another Leech we missed? Shit! What was it doing before it dipped?" She's not mad at the others. That was a hell of a fight, and Leeches are notoriously sneaky assholes -- even ones that get their clocks cleaned by Kinfolk in Cars. She looks relieved as Jackie returns with good news. "Great, that we can do. Thanks, packmate."


Jackie pipes in at the mention of the gang. "Oh, yeah, and those guys are, or were, the Iron Skulls. Kinda newish to the scene, but a bad rep for being a bit too violence happy. Consuela there, the leech I guess, was the leader. And the big brute with the chain is Tomas. This might have been all of them, I'm not quite sure though."


Jack gives Irsa a super wide eyed, super serious nod, "Another one! But like, it just made fun of that one Jackie smooshed, and I ASSUME just sorta, like... left. Didn't try and start anything when it was just us two left in the alley, which is good cause I think I'd have definitely died like right away, Trey probably not, but DEFINITELY I would have. I dunno if it was butt hurt about us killing its kid or not. You'd think so, but it's not like vampires are normal people. With their... their wigs and poofy shirts..." Look, all he knows about vampires is Interview with the Vampire, and some Stephen King stuff.


"It fuckin' figures," Irsa grumbles. "Didn't see her jacket when she popped up on my ass, but can't say I'm surprised. Most Leeches run in gangs up in L.A., don't see why it'd be different here."


Trey nods. "I saw one clawed hand, kind of fucked up looking, and this deep voice saying, 'Foolish child.' It kinda touched the puddle where the Leech was. So it could have been the Leech Mom, or something. Or its maker, whatever they call that." Someone needs a crash course in Vampires, it seems.


Branton rummages around his pouches and takes out what looks like an ornate knife made of wood and carved with symbols of storms and lightning and what might be eye strainingly small letters. He offers it to Trey "This one is set up for lightning, I call it my smite stick." He listens to the words about the gang and considers "Sounds like a pretty rough crew, and not to diminish the accomplishment but vampires are kinda resistant to blunt force trauma. It really depends on how fast you were going and how fragile they might have been. If you didn't find a body or a pile of ash they probably got away. I've heard of that gang, they got maybe five or six people, including the leader and her second. Were they all leeches?"


Jackie shakes her head. "I'm not an expert, but I'm guessing not. I knocked one of them out cold bare handed, and I doubt I could do that to an actual vampire."


"I didn't see where it went, or actually where it came from to begin with, I just saw what Trey saw. Vampire-mom hand, spooky talk, and then we booked it outta the alley and got our asses over here. No one tell Mike I put dead guys in our van! I mean he'd understand, but it's gonna wig him out a lot and he's gonna end up spending the next 6 months triple checking it to make sure there's not still any back there. Or pieces back there." he begs while helping unload stuff.


Irsa snorts in disdain, cus dead Wyrm-spawn deserve no respect. "Naw, th' others were servitors. The Leech was hella Tainted, though. Set off Rhapsody's sniffers somethin' fierce.' She eyes the group narrowly. "Ya'll look and smell like shit. So do I. I'm taking a shower, stat. If you want one, my office is upstairs. Might even have some shirts an' stuff you can borrow. I promised you grub, too. But unloading first." She heads over to assist with the last of it.


Trey examines the SMITE STICK with curiosity, and, after some study, a wide smile. "Oh, that is a thing of beauty and a joy to behold," he says, "I definitely want to make something akin to it. And I think you're right, the gang was minions, I think just the leader was a leech. She had to be finished off even after a headon hit from the van." With Mike's remark, he shakes his head. "I saw no bodies in that van. Nope. No bodies." He nods and wrinkles his nose. "Yeah, I know, I reek of dead things. Soon as we get through this, I want to get clean before food."


Branton nods sagely at Jack and makes a zipping motion across his lips before turning to nod to Irsa, stepping to pitch in with the heavy lifting "I'm glad you like it. I'll add it to the list of notes, and we can even take a run out to my testing facility and I can demonstrate if observing the magic in use would help. For Science of course."


"I got food comin' over here," Irsa remarks. "Hope you folks like Chicken Parm, 'cause that's what I ordered. We can hit up grub in the Food Court, unless you want th' rats upstairs tryin' to nick meal-bits." It doesn't take long to unload the van at all.


Jack is game to take five and hit the ol' second floor bath house, and maybe hit that second(third and forth) hand clothing shop by the commons! "Oh yes please, I got the stank on me." he agrees, and sets to follow just as soon as things are unloaded! His flip flops slap a rhythm while he walks, and his umbral frog hops along behind him, totally unseen by Jack.


Trey ohs, and grins. "Oh, of course, for science. That sounds like a blast. Pardon the pun." At the mention of food, he mmms and says, "Mmm, I love chicken parm. Squawky bird meat, yum." He's definitely going to shower first, though. Dead thing aroma does nothing for the appetite.


Branton nods enthusiastically "Oh I was checking through my inventory and I found some stuff that might be good for Jackie. Including an Amulet with a fire resistance spell baked in but keyed so you don't need to be a magician to activate it. Oh and armor but that'd be more practice to wear, might as well wait till the spear is ready. Train the new kit all at once."


Jack sings a little song to help with things. "Barn yard baby gonna GET IN MAH parmisan!" It's a nonsensical song about talking a chicken into holding still so it can be covered in cheese.


Irsa leads the way, making a quick stop at the clothes store in the Commons. There's a pretty good variety of clothes to choose from, but don't expect high fashion or things that are 100% clean. "Yeah? Good, I mean t' be a meat shield for her, but if I go down she'll be able t' get outta trouble," she says to Branton. And then they're on the way upstairs, where her former residence/now office can be found. "Take a seat," she says, unlocking the doors. "Dibs on th' big chair. And mind th' rats. They're bold bastards, but they're suspicious at first. Let 'em warm up to you first if y' wanna say 'howdy'."


Rats eating.jpg


LLBean -- Dead Mall:

The interior of this large storefront has been tranformed from a bastion of swank, hipster outdoorsy-ness to a no-nonsense dwelling. Most of the interior has been gutted, leaving a large open floorplan with bare wood and steel rafters leading up to the roof high above. Only the changing rooms along the west wall remain to serve as storage. A small, dusty skylight allows natural light into the interior. The original log-cabin walls have been removed, painted over with matte gray primer. The floors have been stripped down to flat concrete, with cracks radiating from the center.

An artist's workspace dominates the south wall. Rusty panels of steel siding, reclaimed wood, glass panes, and sections of brick and concrete line the walls, all of them works in process. Bare patches on the wall surrounded by an ombre halo of spray paint show where other works have been completed. A large table contains an assortment of spray cans, brushes, tools, manual metal cutters and saws, and a magpie's nest of other tools. Several crates on the floor contain a variety of scrap. Grit and small shards of metal are everywhere. Sheets of spattered cardboard protect the rest of the shop floor.

A large fireplace on the north wall is the focal point of the living area. The mantle is a solid block of reclaimed wood, with a patterned fireplace surround of antique brick and polished river stone. A set of hand-made fire dogs proudly guard the fireplace. Two patchwork couches, a number of large beanbags, and an old wingback chair serve as seating. A thick dark-green rug gives the area the impression of a forest floor. A corner nearby holds an overly-large hammock and a multitude of blankets and pillows to make additional sleeping space.

A short hallway to the east leads to a small bathroom complete with a refurbished clawfoot tub, and a staffroom that now serves as a kitchenette and pantry. The large area above the hallway contains a very impresive mural: an enormous tribal figure of a furious rat.


Jack follows! As does his (probably unseen to everyone except probably Branton) frog. "Shit man, now that all the adrenaline's all worn off, I feel so wiped! Not AS bad as I've felt after some shit, but *still*." He does not sit down in any of Irsa's chairs yet, he's still al little bit too gross for that, but he can stand and stretch! But AFTER a rinse off, heck yeah, sprawling for the win!


Trey has cleaned up, having called dibs on the shower, changed into his spare pants, and loosely braided back his wet hair. He even brushed his teeth in there somewhere. A borrowed tee-shirt has the logo of one of the Food Court franchises, apparently formerly belonging to an employee. "Yeah, I hear you," he says with a half-smile. "I could eat the whole damn flock."


Branton did not need to be de-gooed so he's chilling in the hang out space "Its a thing that happens for sure. I always get super hungry after a battle, especially since the things we wind up fighting smell so god awful as soon as I smell something that smells like food I'm all in."


Jackie takes a turn in the shower as well, and comes out changed into a second outfit she must have had in her car. She sprawls out into a chair with a sigh of relaxation. "So, exciting night, huh?"


Irsa lets the guests take first crack at the showers. She fiddles with odd bits of metal left behind on her worktable, and turns around to look up the dusty skylight above. ~ We're not staying long,~ she says quietly to some unseen spirit in the Spirit Speech. ~ But I'll be back later to see you all. I have food coming for your material kin. ~ Her own shower is fairly quick: she's had a long day, she's hungry, she doesn't want to waste all the hot water, and still a bit pissy about a goddamn Leech dragging her into a sewer access line. "It was," she agrees with Jackie. "Looks like I picked a bangin' area for turf, yeah?"


Jack gets all comfypated - and since he was using someone else's digs, he made his shower ultra quick! "So, you guys flattened a vampire earlier, and that's fuckin baller! What about the *mom* though? Are we gonna, like... try and find it? It's uh. Its nest? And... Eggs? Wait. Vampires don't lay eggs. ...OR DO THEY??"


Trey mmms. "Usually when I'm hunting, it's for food. I haven't done as much fighting as a Garou would," he admits. "But I'll get some more training in, plus more work with the bow, then I'll be better prepared." He hrms and looks at Jack. "I think it involves killing someone and draining out their blood, but I don't know the full details."


Branton snorts in amusement and nods at Trey "No they don't lay eggs. They used to be people until another vampire drained almost all their blood and fed them some of their own. Its really gross all things considered. The curse spreads like an infection."


"The only thing I've ever fought was another Cub that said some shit about my brother, so I punched him in the eye." Jack says with a grin at Trey, "We didn't even fight in our Rite of Passage. At least, me and Mike didn't, we had other shit to do. Today is a total first for me!" Worst Garou ever, I swear. "Eeeeeeeeeew." he says while pulling a face at the new info about vampires.


Irsa scrubs a hand over her face when Jack asks about the Leech Maker. "Probably gonna have to, at some point. Leeches are teritorial fucks, but some have th' sense t' fuck right off and set up shop elsewhere when they run into trouble." She leans back in her seat tiredly. "Much as I'd like t' do that right now, we got bigger irons in th' fire. One Leech ain't gonna do as much damage as a bunch of fomori or banes smack-dab in the middle of our turf. But if you wanna do th' gung-ho thing, knock yourselves out. That place is just outside the Mistseekers territory. Just don't go messin' around until you get more training, and got some combat training and healing talens. You definitely wanna hit up George, too. Miguel's a serious bad-ass, but George has a serious hate-on for Leeches. Comes with being a Silent Strider."


Trey makes a yuckface at Branton's statement. "Yeah, that's pretty revolting. Drinking blood from an undead thing? Urgh. I mean, I'll eat a lot of things, but... ewww. And this is from a guy who heals by licking the wounds." Let's not mention that again in front of poor Irsa, she might be scarred for life. "Irsa, Jack and Mike and I are probably gonna work together on that, and I'm gonna see if some of the patrollers are willing to swap me some sparring for some other kinds of training. I wasn't ready tonight, and I could have caused someone's death. I need to be up to par if I'm gonna roll with you all sometimes." He auses, turning back to Branton. "Fire is good for them, but what else works?"


Jackie nods at Trey. "Yeah, I need to get in some training too. I wasn't really planning on getting into fights, but tonight was a good lesson that you can't plan things like that."


Jack nods his agreement while pointing a thumb at Trey, "Yup, we're gonna go all in on some wilderness and combat survival montaging. Fuck I need to go buy some actual shoes at some point." Ugh, SHOES! The worst!


Branton nods at Trey's question "Sunlight, Fire, A wooden stake through the heart will paralyze them but not kill them. If someone drinks their blood without being drained first they can gain power from it but the Blood lays on their mind and soul like chains." Then he shakes his head at Jack "Boots. Good sturdy boots that come up past your ankles and your pant cuffs can tuck into." Then to Jackie "We'll get you fitted with Armor and a spear for emergencies."


"Y' didn't do too bad, from what I saw," Irsa remarks to the Qualmi and Glass Walker. "No one expects Cliaths to throw down like they're at a WWE tournament, unless they're some purebreed Ahroun with a pedigree going back a thousand years or some shit." She smirks at her packmate. "Well, now you got more gear coming to practice with. I got stuff going on tomorrow, but I can meet you in a couple days, if you wanna spar."


Trey says to Jackie, "If you want to join me training, I'm great with that. You seemed like you do really well for yourself -- I mean, you clouted that one ganger but *good*. Nice right hook on you!" He chuckles at Jack's dismay and says, "Don't they have like... cool athletic shoes? I don't know, I always wear boots. Or no shoes." Branton's instruction makes him stop, again, and listen. "You mean, their blood is like psychological slavery by itself? Ugh, better make sure I don't swallow any if I fight them." He nods again. "I wear work boots because even if I sweat, they're good for everything. And comfortable once you break them in. And I have a sweet boot enchant I can toss on them that would give you cat-style balance." That offer is open to all of them. "With materials, if you can, is all I ask." He nods toward Irsa and says, "Yeah, I've been rank 1 for years so it feels weird, but I wander a lot. So. I mean, we lived."