2018.10.04 - Death Metal

Death Metal
Possessed bikers flee containment and harass local park
IC Date	September 20th - October 4th, 2018
IC Time	12:30PM
Players	Aleksandr, Hjalmar, Ildar, Naiche, Sander, Xenovia
Location	King's park, and Residential home
Prp/Tp	The Spirals
Spheres	Garou

Log

       A day in the park, about the afternoon. There's an eco-group there that's hosting a play at the amphitheatre. The eco-group doesn't seem to be up to anything or tied to any Gaian group, so that could be a source of investigation: who are these guys; what are they up to. And things go awry; someone would probably call the police, though it was my hope police presence would take a while to get there.'

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       Sander has just finished his lunch, and coordinates with dispatch to take a patrol route. He drives a standard pattern around the south side of the city. It's generally regarded as the nice area, with residents much better off than the north side. He's not specifically paying attention to the spirits on the other side of the Gauntlet, but if they show any sign of alarm, he can't help but notice.

       It's a lovely (+weather), hazy, afternoon in Prospect. The Brookline GreenSpace Alliance could have picked a better day to have set up their tents at the mouth of the single footpath to the amphitheatre ('l map'). Volunteers smile, greeting passer-bys that pause to look at pamphlets on their tables. Some people, few people for a Thursday afternoon, seem to be interested in a play. The marquee lists the play as 'The Chernobyl Toll'.

Naiche is actually just well... when you are a Lupus, there are things like free time, and going out to watch things. And homeless crazy men in the park seem just right up Naiche's alley, so when he hears of one of the local parks putting on a play.. about what sounds like environmental friendliness?! Naiche is in the area, scoping it out. Almost immanently, he can be seen near the entrance along the footpath, wearing a dirty outfit as always, and more than a little scraggly. Naiche will of course wait patiently, observing, watching and waiting to get in, that is until he might see Sander or someone else approach.. and then it's all cheerful waves.

       Hjalmar has heard word about something possibly interesting going on in the park with some new group showing face... Whom these people are, is so far, quite unknown... He walks up to the entrance and is about to go in, ignoring and avoiding close contact with others, as he spots a waving... Naiche! In the distance. Instead of going in, he walks up to him and grins. "Good day my friend! How are you doing? Also interested in what's going on?" He glances back to the entrance and it's greeters... So... Cheerful...

       While there is a ticket booth (at the north of the map) that also serves as a sound booth, this play is being ran for free. Close to opening call, a scattering of seats have been claimed: a grandmother knitting, a few couples who have no where more important to be, as too, lonely singles. Even a picnicking family of four set off on the well maintained lawn; while other people use the park as a short cut, in their own head-space.
       A few minutes to one, and the house lights turn down, not that it make much difference. A tone annotates over the sound system that follows, to mean the same thing: the play is about to begin: a play about the variety of real accounts of the incident and it's implications for the nearby communities. A play presented in Russian language with English translations and 89 minutes in duration. Welcome to my private hell.

Naiche just appears all sorts of confused for a few seconds upon hearing a greeting directed specifically at him. This might cause Naiche to nearly jump out his skin, but then there is Hjalmar, and he'll stare at him with a blank expression, then there is a glint of something as he snaps his finger, "You looks familiar!" Damn Homid noses! There is a moment as Naiche leans in close steps closer to Hjalmar, "H-HJAL..mer!ar!" He'll then offer excitedly then before talking to the man, "good day! I am here! I am here to learn about.. environment! Learned many things. Like when to use I! EnvIorment."

Then the play starts and Naiche just kind of stares. Or really the movie. "Oo.. wide open spaces! WOuld be fun! Look. Look."

       Sander circles the block. He doesn't speak Russian, of course. And there's no sign that this group will be a problem, not on the record. But as he drives by, Sander notices the emotion in the narration. He radios in that he'll be watching this location, parks the car, and watches.

       Lights, illuminating the stage, bring attention to one actress. And it doesn't take long to discover that she's not speaking. Lip-syncing the Russian that's coming from the speakers, and she ceases to speak when the English translation begins: 'It was tragic. So many hurt, we had to leave everything behind.'

       In the background, behind the amphitheatre, a car screeches its tires and blasts its horn. City living. The play, unfortunately, continues its assault on human decency. 'Things were bad. They were very, very bad.' The crowd sitting in the seats begin to actively ignore what's going on in front of them.

You paged Sander with 'The source of the horn is a group of four jaywalkers crossing the street from the west to the park at the east, heedless of traffic.'

Naiche is literally perhaps the only person genuinely interested in the play, he'll clap his hands, and act attentively, as he smiles, leaning forward, listening intently. The sounds of ugly metal monsters were of less interest than the message of environmental protection! Or the very intricate process of digging underneath a nuclear reactor to fill it with panic-crete. Regardless. Naiche will of found a seat, not near the front because he stands out a little bit looking like a crazy man, but he'll try and be attentive all the same from the back! WHere the cool Lupus sit.

Aleksandr is here, but he rarely makes it into the city, so why is anyone's guess. Hanging out near the back of the crowd from the play and watching quietly. Maybe he's just got a funny feeling about the place. Then again, his background might have something to do with it. He seems somewhat disinterested. His gaze wanders around the crowd gathered and the people here, even to the sky as if there is something to see there.

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You paged Sander with 'Whomever these four jaywalkers are, they're all dressed similar, blue jeans, black leather jackets, white hair, jerky, erratic movements. And they're heading towards the amphitheatre rear entrance (map changed)'

       A Crown Vic pulls up to the curb backstage. The audience wouldn't notice; the driver flashes the forward-facing blues just enough to get room to park. Sander gets out of the car, locking it behind him, and approaches the side of the audience. He's watching the stage.

       Hjalmar grins at Naiche and gestures towards the entrance. "Naiche. Shall we go in and see from up close? Could use a better angle than this."

Naiche is more than eager toa accept Hjalmar's invitation to get closer ot the stage, or get a better 'angle' as it were. He might look about, sniff, and catch sight of Sander off in the distance, but for now Naiche is just too intently watching the play, his hands clasped together, so taken with the plight of the environment!

       The lights turn off, with the first actress posing with hand outstretched. She gives it her all, but with material as dry as this, even the mighty Pacific couldn't moisten this play's lips. Different lights turn on, an actor presented, hand on chest as he emotes. Or rather, pretends to when the Russian comes through the speakers. He regurgitates his lines: 'I worked at the site, and couldn't get to my family. They didn't know if I was ok or not for several days.'
       Naiche is the only one paying attention. It's almost like it's a play, just for him. For everyone else, it's now just a place to sit and be out of the haze, and it would be too rude to stand up and leave, except for one guy in the middle row who just can't stand the torture anymore.
       Someone shouts with alarm back stage. It's quiet for a second, and then... the scream. From backstage (the = signs are stairs to the stage), someone runs down. When she gets close to the actor's light, she's better lit, and so is the blood that covers her right shoulder. And the terror in her eyes that stuns the actor into forgetting to move his lips when the Russian language continues, or providing it's translation.
       And she has every good reason to run: something semi-quadrupedal chases her.https://www.deviantart.com/mindsiphon/art/Crawlspace-972235

The scream brings Aleksandr's eyes back to the stage. Of course it does. His brow goes up as if wondering if it is part of the play. That is until the woman appears with blood on her and something quadrupedal chasing her. Then again, humans have strange customs, and this could be very real costume making, maybe. He doesn't look concerned yet, but he does always look serious. His eyes trail the woman and then the thing stalking her. His stance does get a bit more rigid near the back of the crowd where he stands.

       Sander charges forward toward the stage. Whatever's up there doesn't look right at all. He'll figure out a cover story later. For now, he needs to make himself a threat and get the public out of here. As he mounts the stage, he draws his pistol, but does not quite have the chance to point it yet.

       Hjalmar does not wait a second longer and rushes in to protect the woman. He jumps on stage and throws a punch.. "Oi, you ugly!" Only to have it being deflected on rough skin.... This is bad alright.

Naiche will, as the screaming starts to pick up, blink and look around.. and like a proper animal, instead of rushing head long into danger, hit the deck, scrabbling his way up along the benches of the amphitheatre if possible- and trying to find a way to keep himself down and out of the way? A knocked over stand? Some stray chairs or cloth? Naiche can contort his body like a crazy man if need be to hide. It's the only thing he is good at. Well besides being Naiche.

       With what was single focused devotion, a sickly long smile with needle-like long teeth devoid of blood that marks the prey in front of 'him', the creature pulls into the spotlight in time to get punched ineffectually by Hjalmar and turns its cold, iris-less eyes to this new obstruction, while coming to a halt giving the fleeing actress, Jenny, a chance to jump from the stage and continue running south, down the well-walked path.
       Now that it isn't moving, its stretch catches up with it: reeking of blood, rotting and death. It was, at one time, a biker. But now the leather jacket has fused with it, growing directly into its skin, green pus oozing on occasion from joints between jacket and Formor skin.
       An inquisitive tilt of its head at Hjalmar before the beast lunges forward to take a taste. A bite. A chunk.

       A scream is heard backstage, before it is cut short.

Aleksandr isn't a hero, not really, but he seems to want to see everyone get out of here to safety. Once eh realizes the threat he moves into action, placing a rather ineffectual kick to the things side. The one facing Hjalmar. Maybe it helps the man out too. But his attention is still somewhat focused on the crowd and making sure they get away. Any to distract the beast.

       With Aleksandr joining the other two heroes on stage, this creature is out numbered. The actor that was also sharing the stage, in the middle of his monologue, decides that now isn't the time to be valorous, turns, and follows Jenny off the stage and down the well-worn path. The crowd, almost as one, raise too. With the piece missing from Hjalmar, and all the screaming, this most assuredly is not part of the toll of Chernobyl. People scatter, save three.
        o Grandmother in the second row continues to knit, head down, knit two, pearl one. She smiles to herself while chaos goes on around her.
        o Two people in the crowd seem stunned. Watching with wide-eyes and dropped mouths.
        o And there's always one in the crowd. He looks slimy, gold necklace, v-neck polo shirt showing way to much chest, and a forest of dark, curly chest hair. He stands, reaching into his pocket and withdraws one device, holds it up in front of his face, and aims it at the stage. Yeah, this is totally going to be on YouTube.

       Licking his lips with the thought, perhaps of just how much money he's going to make off of this video, with sole determination, the YouTuber continues to record the goings on on the stage, primarily. When, from the side of the amphitheatre, a blur leaps and drops on top of him. His phone is flung as he falls to the ground long, sickly fangs dug deep into his flesh and a sudden gush of warm, red blood flies free from the unaware videographer.
       The second Fomor begins to yank, and pull, on hands and feet, trying to dislodge the prey from the seating while pulling him back. Somewhere safer, purpose, to consume.

Naiche whispers and snortles and snarls behind the whole chair thing that he is hiding behind, there is murmuring.. and then Naiche hopes up from behind his hiding spot and proclaims to the world... things! Yet oddly enough. Naiche appears to of somehow both gained and lost a lot of weight. Gained in that he literally appears 30lbs heavier, and lost in that he is covered in skin flaps! Like when you lose a lot of weight? THick skin flaps, though most of them are under his clothes of course. "Take heed! Fellow people! LEt not these corporate terrorists dismay you, for so long as I live, this will be reported as an attack by corporations in trying to destroy environment! I have many connections with media and police! SO long as I am alive! The message of mother nature will prevail! You fools! You waste your time with uh... those weaklings.. when should be concerned with me! I am most important boy! I am good boy! I am the BEST boy!"

       Sander sights down the bad guy. This isn't all that hard; he's practiced, and he's even killed before. In the few seconds he's had since getting himself on the stage, his crouch-and-fire hits one of the apparent aggressors. The shot rings out... this won't be easy to explain away.

Aleksandr moves from the beast, leaving him to Hjalmar for the time. The Garou should be in less danger than these two bystanders, and the Grandma. He starts to approach the old lady in the crowd, and even the grease ball eventually, saying to her, "Excuse me ma'am, I think it is very dangerous here." The gunshot ringing through the air to emphasize his point. "Let me help you get out of here?" That is until the grease ball is suddenly attacked and Aleksandr looks up in time to see it. He can't for the life of him, let an innocent be consumed, so he changes direction, moving to tackle the beast taking the youtuber to his death.

       Confronted with three, then two enemies, with the mouth feel of Hjalmar still rolling around in its mouth by its tongue, the quadrupedal creature turns to face the cop; maybe it's the smell of bacon that attracted its attention. A low rumble swells from the chest, iris-less white eyes narrow, and it makes to lunge forward--
       When it's attention is distracted; someone in the audience stands up and orates like a sumabitch. It's attention held, giving plenty of profile of a frozen target for the officer to line up and fire. And as a brass spent round tings-tings on the smooth stage floor, a hole appears in its shoulder. Black-green pus leaks free from the hole for about an inch, thickly, before coming to a halt. And whatever attention had been held, is lost as the creature has been pained, and it returns its attention to its attacker, the growl renewed.

       When she's approached, it takes Grandmother a moment to realize she isn't alone, and looks up expectantly at the man speaking to her. Her expression doesn't change, and although it looks like she's about to reply, a shot is rung out, and its as though she's noticing the stage for the first time. Her eyes go wide. "Oh, dear!", she exclaims, and clutches her knitting to her chest while the deaf woman stands, and leaves the amphitheatre as the others have, in the most expeditious way possible. Even if she's no sprinter.
       Backstage is quiet.

Naiche notices that not many people are paying to his bubbly voice. Well they are- but getting shot is far more important, so to drive the point home, Naiche just bolts down the stage, almost breaking out into a full sprint, jumping up and onto the stage, and about just so that he can move to tackle the abomination attempting to take a bite out of a crime-fighter. Or Hjalmar. Or really hurt them. "SHould Listen to me! Far more important! I am great hero! IF don't kill me! YOu will lose!" Naiche screams into the thing's ear.. or ear-facsimile, even as he tries to distract it from hurting Hjalmar and Sander. He also gives it a great big squeezing bear hug. To little avail.

The human, the totally normal human that Xenovia approaches and begins to convince to move, <deleted>, get out the way, snaps awake and gives his head a shake as though to clear the mental cobwebs when shook or touched or otherwise given a reason to have their attention forcefully drawn from That Thing. He turns to take another look, "Oh, GAWD," and with fortified willpower, turns and runs south down the path.

Xenovia gets into the theatre as people are rushing out. She quickly moves down the aisle once the trouble is seen. She yells at the one patron sitting pretty, "Get out!" Yeah, easiest job ever. Okay she turns to look who else is sitting stupidly like a vegetable in the theatre. The young blonde woman most likely will choose another victim next, unless there's an untargeted monster running around loose. For now, she's quickly getting her bearings, before acting next.

Hjalmar focusses himself on this fight, strengthening himself and turning towards the /mere/ mortals here asl well. He does some short chanting and a bright bulb of light appears in the face of the last lingering people watching.

       At the right side of the concrete seating, the second critter drags the videographer a few more pulls, made more difficult by how much more difficult this flailing, bleeding person is making it. Letting go, it opens its mouth, primed to take another bite when, because of initiative orders, it too is memorized by the shining beacon that is wrinkly skinned Naiche, causing it, too, to pause in its attack.

       Tackled, and cradled, by the fluffy Naiche, the grotesque creature snarls and lunges towards to take a bite from its huger, to no avail -- it's stench, the rotting and death, are more of an assault than it is.

       Sander does not stop. He'll have to justify the shooting later. That's a distant problem. There is real filth here, trying to hurt innocent people - the fact that Garou are in on the party is almost irrelevant. One well-aimed shot on a target - huh, that's Naiche holding it down - and Sander moves on, looking for other threats.

Aleksandr would probably lecture about heroism in a lot of days, especially at a time like this. Mainly because he knows the dangers of losing control here, or the like. But he can't let the grease ball die, either. Mouth set in a bit of a frown, he makes for the creature now stunned by Naiche's speech and barrels into him, hitting him hard enough to take him to the ground and hopefully dislodge his kidnap victim.

       It isn't uncommon to see stars in your eyes. But to have them literally, even in the theatre... The last remaining normal human makes confusing shifts of her head and blinking profusely. A second later, swatting at flickering lights while she puts on a sour expression. A disgusted grunt follows before she turns around and starts making her way out of the theatre at a slow pace. Then faster when she continues to get harassed, until she, too, has fled the area.

       Suddenly, there is a change in the air around them. It is like a strange drawing of imminent energy within the circumference of the fighting that causes a static charge building in a manner of milliseconds. Xenovia is rushing forward to the bruised monster, flanking as best she can. She's the smaller target, and its attention is on Aleksander with the blade in hand. In a sneaky game of TAG YOUR IT -- Xen, zaps him with a touch of her hand before quickly pulling it backward. In that touch a huge electric field ignites as the Kami's energy begins to zap and fry! The physical body seizes, muscles contracting as they lock in place. The vibration in the air will stink like flesh burn!

       With Xenovia's attack, the possessed tenses and back arches as the shock of the bolt runs through it and overloads its central nervous system and it twitches and spasms. The smell of burnt flesh almost, ALMOST over powers the stench of its lingering, old death as it collapses, stunned, and very much the worse for wear.

Aleksandr just misses getting zapped. Slipping a knife out from somewhere inside his jacket, he watches as the beast beneath him gets zapped, looking up to the person that seems to have caused that. A brow raises at Xenovia briefly, a glance around before he attempts to plunge a knife into it. He seems to hit hard leather hide though, and produces at can only be called a paper cut. If only he had a lemon.

Naiche for his part, after it's all said and done, is just trying to ineffectually sit on what is now just... well, zappy mczapperson. Naiche will pull n his neck.. and just be sure. "Is dead!? I am very important boy! Most important! See? Made mistake not coming for me!" Naiche then drops the act then as he stands up, brushing himself off, still fifty pounds overweight, and covered in skin flaps. "That was scary." An eye then to the bleeding, collapsed nearby abomination.

       There is no pity, there is no patience. Sander is on the very edge, and his clip is almost empty. He takes a fraction of a second to sight down the target, and- *!* ... it's a head shot. Target down; Sander's attention moves immediately to any other threats. He'll worry about that poor soul later.

       With that last round from Sanders, a small entry point, but a large exit wound out the back of the head, the creature's features shift. Much like when a Crinos dies and reverts to its natural form, the long, free flowing hair goes from white back to the black it was. His eyes gain pupils, of a dark brown. The teeth retreat, retract, until they're just normal. And everything, all of him, just turns...
       Normal.
       Even the bleeding is blood; the leather jacket that was once one with the skin is now just a piece of clothing on an otherwise unremarkable biker, now laying lifeless on the stage, laying in an ever widening blood of crimson blood, decorated with bits of skull and gray matter.
       Raymond Turner is no more.

       All is still for a moment, before the twitching, spasming bad man caught between Aleksandr and Xenovia, slowly recovers.

       The last bad guy is equally dispatched, "with ease". And just like the first, he too reverts to his normal looks. Also a biker; and from the looks of their markings, part of the same group as well. The videographer, dead, has his phone retrieved and the video he managed to take, as it happens, goes missing.
       But the worst is yet to be discovered when our Heroes go {BACKkkkk, ... STAGEeee}. There, the scene is gruesome. One other person was not as fortunate, and evidence is that she had been chew on, eaten through the abdomen from two sides. Worse still; a bloody drag mark leads from the open back of the back stage, out the park, and across the street towards a residential area.
       What other horrors await?

* [Continued] *

       Looking around backstage and seeing those drag marks leading out, Hjalmar turns towards his brothers and sisters. "We need to follow that trail. We need to find that Wyrmy bastard before it is too late." He proceeds a litte further, trying to avoid to step into blood where possible... Careful since there maybe, might be more backstage. He will be heading towards the door in order to start following the trail.

Naiche just blinks as he looks down at the collapsed person right in front of him. Or really.. dead.. thingmabob. A hand reaching up to rub under his chin as he just speaks, in that burbling, fat, bubbling tone, obviously worried, "If wish to engage, yes? Make hunt? Make fight? SHould be ready yes? But better question is.. loud sounds..." He'll trail off as Naiche just sort of slides up along beside Hjalmar. "Decide now, if plan on going in, big fuck you mode? Or try and keep low profile or? Or.." Burble burble, wiggle wiggle. "Means.. can do either."

       Sander, since he won't be with us anymore, nods, and points at the bodies of the things that used to be possessed. "I discharged my weapon; I'll stay here and provide cover for this." He pauses, "Er, mess." Xenovia and Aleksandr agree as well, providing an easy way to write them all out.

       Ildar, having heard some things while he was in the city, decided to head that way. Shots is never good on the streets. While he's better looking now than he ever was then, he still had flashbacks to his time on these streets. Getting to where the gangers were said to be hanging out at, he'd pause at spotting Fatiche and Hjalmar, along with someone else. Frowning, he'd flex his hands and head closer, waving. "Ahh.. hey. What's going on?"

       As indicated, the area backstage was messy. While our heroes were, um. Having trouble taking down the two on stage, at least two more killed a woman backstage. Her head tilted to the side, the look of unobjectified horror still on her face while bite marks pit her torso, bite marks not unlike Hjalmar's.
       The greasy blood stained grass leads from the open back of the amphitheatre, towards a road that isn't very busy. Without a doubt, you're all alone now. There's nobody left that hasn't ran. The only thing that's missing is the mundane police.

       Hjalmar looks up at hearing a familiar voice. "The fuck Ildar.. Watch where you're going. Wyrm's loose here." He quickly looks around and then to Naiche. "On the streets, we need to keep the veil down. Inside buildings with only our target and possible prey.. We do what we need to do... Though it'd be best to even keep the veil intact to those he has as prey." He clamps his shoulder for a moment as the pain is rather nasty.. His clothing is bloody and a focussed look is in his blue eyes. "Although Naiche. A big dog. Might not be such a strange sight in the city."

Naiche shakes his head as he moves to rub at his chin still, flaps moving, flopping up and down, moving to step along as he goes, "Is not good to be 'big dog." Naiche observes as he mumbles, "Is like you in your squishy man-ape form in some ways. Can't take hit. Can't... knit up quite right." Naiche notes with a small snort, "So, stays like this instead." Naiche observes, "If you want big dog, probably good. BUt Naiche cannot big-do-" There is a beat as he notices Ildar, remaining near the doorway, peeking his head out from the backstage entrance. "If going help. Run quickly inside. Otherwise uh.. do not get caught!"

       Ildar frowns, looking about, he'd nod and move closer to the other two. "I thought so.. Something felt wrong. When I heard about it.. Why I came." He'd look at Naiche then. "I'm here to help." Getting into the amphitheatre, he'd pale slightly at the blood, but just balled his hands into fist, pulling on that rage to keep himself going. "How can I help?"

       Hjalmar leads on to follow the trail outside. "We will follow the trail to where those bastards have gone to. And we'd better be fast about it... Before they kill even more." He will use a more quicker pace once outside and only if the others follow. No use in going alone.

Naiche will just sighs as he moves to follow Hjalmar at this point, even as he walks along, fidgeting as he goes, humming then, "Suggestion, Ildar, yes? Is to not get angry. Too angry. COuld pose danger to not just enemies, but us. Use... use caution yes, Channel rage in flashes, not consumed by it oh yes." Naiche murmurs as he just eyes Ildar for a second before giving a great big toothy grin and follows along.

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       And SO much blood. Two bodies, one a biker, and one a normal person lay on the right of the map, by the benches. This biker has had less trauma done to him than the one on the stage who soaked damage like it was going out of style. But, ultimately, the bullet to the brain pan proved to much for him, especially when it blew out the back of his skull. What once was a person, lays in a pool of his own blood.

       Following the bloody trail, a drag mark through the park, then over the concrete of the road, it leads into a back bush. A neighbourhood outcropping of trees to help dampen the sound of cars going through from bothering the residences of the houses that occupy behind the park. This area is for people who have money; the upper class. And as the body, only one, you're sure of it now, was pulled through the small forest, the path it was pulled through it easy to spot, never mind the drops of blood that paint leaves, and trees.
       Before the trees on the small plot of land open up, you all behind to hear death metal music growing louder as you draw closer. And when the woods do part, you're faced with a back fence of a two story home (map updated).

       Ildar nods to the others and would indeed follow along. He'd glance to Naiche and smiles briefly. "Yes. I'll do that. I.. I can do this. Just watch.." He'd keep up with the others, keeping alert as he can, while moving along to follow after that blood trail. Kind of hard to miss that.. but it was odd there were no cops..

       Hjalmar follows the trail and it does not take long before they come up to the back of the home. He will looks as to where the drag trail will lead them through or over the fence... Closely watching for anyone else in the progress as he'd rather not get jumped on by their target.

Naiche blinks as he moves along, leaning down, almost getting face first into the blood trail to sniff at it, and touch it.. and generally get himself sticky before moving to wipe his now bloody hand off on his collar, just so that on occasion he can lift the shirt to sniff at it again, and follow the trail all the more easily.. This helps him at least keep pace with Jalmar, somewhat as he follows along behind. "Confidence? Good. Arrogance bad yes? Just do what can do, if can't do it, don't force. Better to withdraw. Live for another day. Wyrm will still be here, still be killable." Naiche murmurs as he tries to look nonchalant following behind Hjalmar, "Once find bad guys, Murder kill? or try and save people? Drive off witnesses?"

       Ildar nods a little to Naiche. "I know I'm still new.. and I like to think I'm not stupid.." He'd keep going with the others, looking about as they'd follow the trail. He paused at Naiche's actions curiously, then muses a little. That's an interesting idea, that's for sure.

       Hjalmar whispers back to the others. "We do the latter. Get as much innocent out of the way as possible.. But when needed. We do the murder kill.. Just watch for any hostages... NO innocent blood will be spilled by us. Understood?" He glances back once and then goes to observe the building for easy entry points and hopefully a place where the trail leads in.. Or to... A final whisper. "We will not retreat if we do not have to.. It is our duty to Gaia to fight the best we can."

       The fence, wood slotted, is nearly six feet tall. Even the small among you wouldn't have much trouble looking over the fence (or jumping up and down to steal peeks). In the backyard, there is a table with four chairs under an awning, for entertaining guests. A Jacuzzi with another kind of entertaining is also back there. The yard has been kept well maintained, though, in a posh neighbourhood such as this, might be due for a mow soon.
       The windows leading to the backyard have all been closed; the shades down. There's a French window (floor to ceiling windows that open to allow passage; the first set of == on the map) but their blinds have also been drawn.
       What's more, the back fence has blood smeared on it; a bloody hand print with abnormally long, slender fingers. Just on the other side of these marks, on the grass, a large blood splatter, where the copper smell of the blood still lingers in the air, where a body was tossed over the fence and hit the ground with a thud.
       The drag marks end here; where the loud music comes from.

Naiche has to admit that SHerpei Naiche is a little frowny faced at Hjalmar then before he nods, "As long as we do not overcommit.. there is noting wrong with that. SUpposes." Naiche responds before he moves to step forward and observe the weird little fenced off area that they have stumbled upon. "Looks odd. Looks unusual. Looks odd." Naiche notes as the blood trail ends, and then lifting his eye to note hand-print. "Very loud? Trying to draw attention to self? Or hide other sounds?"

       While speaking, talking about tactics (the drawback of not being packed), Ildar spots a commotion. The vertical blinds to the French doors part, down low and the thick muzzle of a German Shepard appears, having parted them. Beady black eyes scan the backyard.

       Ildar blinks, then shifts, ducking low and to the side with a small hisst to the others. He'd make a small motion towards the window, trying to draw attention to it for the other two, without giving away where he ducked to.

       Hjalmar watches the trail lead into the garden and sighs. "We have to..." And goes silent as Ildar does his thing going low as well and trying to spot what spooked Ildar like this. His eyes narrow, and he focusses on all his senses in order to find the possible threat. With Ildar spotting out the threat. It takes Hjalmar only a second or two to gain it's bearing.. A dog.. Sheppard by the looks of it. If only.. He could make himself be smelled by the dog.. Just in case though.. He will have his human scent extend from his body. (Scent of man)

Naiche just frowns as he moves to slide down, kneeling now as Niahce moves to rub at his forehead and just shake his head, sighing then as he runs his fingers through his hair, murmuring, echoing Ildar's movements even as he leans forward to look at the sight through the window. "Is dog. Odd dog. Perhaps dog smells? Perhaps dog is weak? Or perhaps dog is watching for us?" He'll hum then.

       Indeed, if only. The French doors are closed, and while Hjalmar begins to stink like a human (ew), the mutt at the window scans the backyard for a while longer. Just how it is that that dog can hear anything coming from the backyard with that music going on, is incredible. Not supernatural; just incredible.
       The Sheppy loses interest, after a minute, like dogs do, and leaves, the vertical blinds swaying in its vacuum until they come to a slow stop.

       Ildar shifts on his feet a moment, watching quietly as the dog would finally move off. He'd glance to Hjal curiously. There was something.. different. Off. That.. He'd shake his head, something to ask later. Ildar looks about again, then to the other two. "We need to get moving, get in, Right?"

       Hjalmar nods as the dog moves off. "Alright.. Now.. To follow the trail." He whispers before letting out a sigh. "If the dog comes for us.. Leave it to me. I will dissuade the animal." Then a nod to Naiche and Ildar. "Let's move closer."

Naiche just nods as he moves to sort of waddle over towards the window- and the house itself, keeping down, kneeling sort of as he moves, each movement shuffling him closer as he tries to keep out of the sight lines of the window and peer over and try and peek about to make sure nothing else was in the yard that might dissuade them from growing closer. Away Naiche goes!

       Ildar nods a little and ups and overs. He'd hop the fence nimbly, dropping low after he's on the other side to glance around. This? Yes, this is something Ildar knows really well. After all, he had to survive by what he could steal.
       Ildar frowns a little, eyeing the pool, then looking blankly towards Hjal. "Uhm." Yep.. never did that before! He'd shift on his feet a little nervously. Looking about again. "I'll follow. ShieldBrother-Rhya. Lead the way."

       Two figures scale the fence; it really is easy to climb, but probably not so much while dragging a body, and likely why the body was tossed over the fence. In the backyard, it looks like a normal backyard: that hoses a blood splatter by the backyard fence. Naiche sneaks across the lawn, and then flattens his back to the building. The music, so loud, and muffled, that he can feel the vibrations of the deep bass on his back. A peek into one window, shades. They're all shaded. Like someone inside there wants their privacy, even while broadcasting their song.

       Hjalmar glances to Ildar. "Neither have I. But we might need to.. Looking at the place we are at. Too many humans." Then a glance to Naiche as he comes to stand against the house as well. "Naiche.. Shall we go into the Umbra?" If Naiche agrees, he will move to the tub in order to try and enter it.

Naiche just licks at his chops one Naiche get's no sight of what's going on inside, and he'll just sort of stare at the house then before leaning down. Luckily the music worked both ways, so Naiche moves to beckon his companions closer. "So two options. Try more scouting, sneaking. PErahps go Umbra, see if can peek through and see what is going on? Or go with the murder an-Oh uh... yes.. sneaking. Enjoys the sneaking. I like the sneaking." Naiche murmurs as he tries ot look at the window to his side, trying to see if there is any reflective part in the surface. "Also, should uh.. let new one go first yes? Stare into window. Find reflection. Centre self, imagine soul stepping through other place. Bam!" All whispers of course.

       Ildar looks to Naiche, frowning, then looks at the window, then more specifically, at that reflection of his in the window. He'd still a moment, trying to get himself to centre, so that he can shift over to that umbral space instead.

       Focussing on that window the same way Ildar does.. Hjalmar too, steps into the Umbra for the first time of his life.. He has heard of it alright.. But never entered it before. He looks around amazed for a moment before refocussing on the task at hand. He looks around to see whom else has made it before closing his eyes and focus on a shift.. This is the Umbra.. And not the mortal realm.. No need to stay in a weaker form.

Naiche just nods as he moves to slide down into the gauntlet, after peering into the window after the pair, Naiche just ending up then into the Umbra, the Lupus- in his homid form just radiating some spiritual residue, even as he moves to roll his shoulders then. Then, he'll take the time to glance around, and looks about for anything that might stand out or notice them in the Umbra... and then, slowly, but surely, Naiche's arms and legs begin to crack and shift, the Lupus changing- losing a few feet, and gaining a ton of fur.. until a dire wolf is left behind.

       Ildar looks about surprised a moment, then as the other two shift, he would too, moving to that Crinos form as he'd shift and grow, rolling his shoulders while he'd settle into that new shape.

       Staring into your reflections, the expanse of time pulls, a stomach lurching feeling as the Gauntlet, the barrier between this world and the other, resists your travel. The Weaver's minions, milking thin web strings between realities, make the travel difficult for some, and easy for others.
       You finds yourselves in a different landscape altogether.
       The city is gone.
       The area around you is just like Prospect was back before man touched it in these suburbs. Desert extends towards the distance where buildings, a fledgling Prospect dwells. Sage bush dot the ground as well, a cactus here and there. The spirit world is wispy. In the day, Luna's light is not to be found. Night time is the Garou's friend in the Umbra. During the day, more malevolent spirits are awake. And as the house is no longer there, Hjalmar turns to find four such creatures no more than ten feet from him. They dance, or jump, these semi-physical, ghoulish spirits. With razor-sharp claws and fangs, the reach out and attempt to swipe at something that isn't there. These creatures are small, and slouch using their knuckles to support themselves in a semi-quadruped way. https://img00.deviantart.net/3b49/i/2013/265/d/b/cold_ned_by_dloliver-d5jxohm.png
       Along with the four small things, two more are seen amid the group. But they hold their knees, floating in the fetal position, eyes closed. Spirits slumbering.
       Thus far, the ripping of Weaver's threads have not alerted them of your presence.

Sickening ripping and stretching sounds are heard as the transformation takes place and Hjalmar becomes a huge murder machine

       Having shifted and having buffed himself as much as possible.. Hjalmar's ready for it. So is Naiche? Though... Where's Ildar? He looks around a bit, not seeing the man and shakes his head. He focusses on the creatures and glances to Naiche and gestures at the creatures.

Naiche for his part just sits quietly, watching the ritual, not saying anything as Naiche's eyes glance over the scary creatures then, sniffling as he moves t o lick at his chops. Naiche waits, patiently then for Ildar to show up, as well, nodding to Hjalmar then in a vague expression of distaste, even as those skin flaps and fur- still remain on his wolfish form. This time making him look like some sort of infamous dog.. that had gotten liposuction? It's really fucking weird.

       While waiting for the cub, and really, no where to hide, the two Garou wait. And they nearly make it. The four creatures, bouncing, and reaching up for something, continue to do so, until one stops. It tilts its head curiously, and then looks over its shoulder. The surprise on the spirits face vanishes quickly, as it shrieks out a high pitched hiss.

       Hjalmar does not wait for it. As soon as those bastids spot them, he charges in! He attacks the closest twice. The first blow lands but is shrugged off. The second though, landing on the same spot. Takes out a chunk of the enemies filthy flesh. Wounding it rather well!

Naiche just rushes forward then as Naiche grunts and growls, the Lupis- now in Hispo just starts snarling and biting and snapping at everyone and everything around him. The animal- beast just thrashing. Oddly enough he doesn't seem to actually be trying to attack anyone- but instead gather their attention, then the snarls and barks turn into.. words. <<Come! COME to me! Friend! Show them light, shock shock!>> And then.. there is a little zap on one talon.. then another.. and then his arms- scars covered in fur burst to life as electricity starts to run over his body.

       The creatures, on hands and feet, hobble over to the two Garou, and engage them as they've been; tooth and claw. They're a frenzy of attacks, interesting in attacking without regard for their own safety. The one ShieldBrother wounded, stays with him, but the other three move to gang up on the flappy creature, seemingly so willing to make itself a sacrifice. Untrained claws and bites leave nothing more than a scratch and foul spittle.

Naiche grunts and growls, even as he feels something tugging on his skin-folds, the fat, and furry beast that is Naiche soon just turning around to launch out with a flurry of swings and swipes, the Hispo form just a flurry of claws. This is not the form of someone with practice fighting and discipline. It is just CLAWS. Claws everywhere, Naiche just flashing about at this point. One claw manages to land- causing the Scraggling to soon pulsate with electricity, wrapping around and jumping from Naiche's claws to his victim. Leaving them passed out. Unfortunately the rash of flailing means that one or two swipes don't hit their mark. How useless.

       Ildar FINALLY tears out of that webbing.. only to come into this mess of a brawl. He'd stumble, but only for a second, grabbing that rage with a glare and roar of anger as he'd shift hard into that Crinos form. It's all one motion, the blur of man to war beast as he'd slam into that critter trying to hit his comrade like a ton of bricks, both hands coming out with that slashing strikes at the critter, tearing hard into it the first time but only catching a little the second as he'd put a hole in it from the first hit!

       The scraglings attacking our Heroes continue to get lashed, clawed, and in one example, electrocuted so badly, all it does is a little dance of someone that's been zapped. Their blows land, but their damage, not effective against Gaia's warriors.

       Hjalmar attacks that bastid in front of him attack, landing a tremendous blow. The creature seems to soak a bit of the hit.. But it clearly leaves a rather nasty gash in its side still! The thing's almost gutted now!

Naiche continues with his reckless flailing, trying to hit and strike at everyone and everything around him, often to little success. He manages to get purchase once with his claw- but there is little to do, little to be said for the actual damage or pain Naiche is causing. Which is to say very litle!

       Hjalmar attacks the Scragling bastid again. Ripping out another huge chunk from it's chest.. He sees that it is almost done for now.. Just one more good hit.. Comon Hjalmar!

       The little creatures, attempting to gnash, and claw their way into any weakness, fail to have their spiritual natural weapons find any purchase. To the one, while they swarm, they bestow no effective damage.

Naiche continues with his reckless flailing at this point, often to little avail, sometimes striking, sometimes managing to hit one or two of them- ut his hips- his clawing leaves little damage. The good news is that most of them seem fixated on Naiche, his reckless flailing of anger and vengeance continuing to demonstrate pain.. anger and hatred all around! Yet Naiche takes it all like a champ!

       As the fighting escalates, and Naiche gets hurt. Hjalmar doubles his efforts. He focusses his rage and attacks the two wounded Scraggling bastids. Killing the first with a claw to the head, taking half of it with it. The second... He finally disembowels.. Ripping all appart.

Naiche at this point, as blood starts to squirt from his side, Naiche just starts to howl, and froth, just squirming and flailing about then, this time however, it isn't just reckless flailing- but pointed- pushing, striking swipes with his claws as he tries to launch himself onto everyone. Like a blur of fur and fat.. and skin flaps, Naiche just hops onto each person and tries to claw and scream and rip away. Electricity lashes out everywhere- lighting the dangerous Hispo into a gruesome figure.. but Naiche growls then as he moves along.

       In a blender, a flurry of activity, three scraglings die. Their bodies, without the right Charms, simply fade into nothingness. They are no more. And their surviving fiend, worse, is rendered unable to defend them. And all they wanted to do is feed.

       Hjalmar turns to the last enemy, attacking it with his claws, hitting... Not hard enough!

Naiche is just nothing but a flurry of fur, anger, and annoyance at this point as Naiche is just flailing, flailing, biting and chewing at this point, tearing as much of the creature up and away from him, trying to leave the little thing in tiny chunks. And then tear those into tiny chunks too where there can be no more damage, blood just leaking out of Naiche's exposed wounds in his flail.

       Hjalmar, about to strike at the last foe again, does not get a chance to do so as Naiche beats him to it.. He watches as the Hispo rips the target apart... Just utterly shredding it.. <<Good kill Naiche... Goood kill!>> The Crinos says as he looms over the corpses.. If there are any..

       The final knee high tall creature, dying, fades into nothing, as Naiche's maw grapples around its leg, bites and pulls it violently off his body, tossed to the desert ground. Bouncing twice its body begins to evaporate into the Umbral-scape, leaving the last two slumbering Scraglings vulnerable, and easily dispatched, the battle wary Garou exhausted.

Naiche will after he calms down, finding no piece large enough to tear apart, will just stare blankly at the ground and then offer, <<Going home. Sleep now. GO rest. Bleed other places. WHatever is here- can wait. Cannot keep the fighting.>> Naiche observes then as he just turns to wander off then, his tongue lolling out as the Lupus-Hispo just pushes away to start trotting off.

       Hjalmar watches Naiche as he turns and starts to wander off.. <<Might not have chance to wait.. Need finish.. Otherwise, might face more.>> Hjalmar looks around, trying to spot anything here that might help them.. To see if they got everything done here that they can do.

Naiche pauses then as he just looks back at Hjalmar- Shieldbrother and just stares blankly at him then before offering simply, <<Fine. FIne! But if Naiche dies! Holds responsible! Hold's responsible for death. Will haunt as ghosts! Tell other ghosts to haunt.>> Naiche mutters even as he turns to move back towards Hjalmar to sit at the centre. <<What now.>>

Naiche by this point, just sits, panting as he tries to stare past, peer into the gauntlet then.

       As does Hjalmar try and peer past the curtain of the Umbra... Trying to get a peek at what rests on the other side.

       As your eyes glaze, and attention shifts back into the house, you also hears the music. It would be nearly deafening, no longer muffled by the house's walls, Death Metal music sounding like it is echoy. But that's not everything. Your eyesight, and more importantly, your sense of smell are Assaulted by a smell not likely unknown to you:
       Death.

       You stand in the living room of the house, tight fit for a Crinos form. From there, the mundane of things, is that the television is on, and is the source of the music, playing from a Pandora source. The house looks otherwise normal, except for the bodies. The dead bodies. One has been laid out on the dinning room table. Her, and from what's left, it's difficult to tell that it's a her, chest has been opened and the insides been used as a source of fresh food. Blood, long congealed, has frozen in places, mid-drip from the table to the floor. Her final resting place, the table, is nearly exactly on the opposite side of the French doors.
       The Kitchen has the second most largest source of blood, and fragments of her skull, her hair, gray and curly, giving the death scene as belonging to her. Flies buzz around the open chest cavity, while white moving things crawl inside. Another body, fresh, lays on the floor near her. Younger, male. Gnawed. Most likely the body that was dragged from the grass stains on his blue jeans.
       The Sheppard is no where to be seen.

Naiche just sighs then as he licks at his chops then before looking to Hjalmar. <<Cross now? Cross now. Get this over with. Will die or won't but only pint now is crossing.>> Naiche observes as he waggles his tail.

       Hjalmar looks through to the other side.. The /real/ world, and is assailed by a multitude of terrible smells and sights. He looks around for anything that might have done this... The doggo is not here... At least not on first look. Hjalmar tries to walk a bit, see if that works. And... It does! He then looks at Naiche as he says this and nods. <<Aye.. We do. Finish this, cleanse if needed.. And get home.>>

       Slipping through the Gauntlet again, the webs, for some, prove to be a little difficult pulling through. But, eventually, you're both through, and the assault to your senses becomes real and not imaginary. The metallic tang of blood feels like it crawls over the skin, through the fur, like a living thing. The death, the days old body and the few one lay there, victims to a Godless world. Without the echoy quality to the music, it sounds like, well, like it's in the room with you. As though someone turned the volume up to 11 and ripped the knob off.

Naiche will just look all sorts of grossed out, as Naiche just hunkers down to hide for the time being, ears pressed flat, keeping low to the ground- and trying not to lay in any puddle of dry blood- but instead the freshest blood he can find- to obscure and mask his scent- Naiche will even take the time to roll around in the blood- preferably making sure its from a recent corpse that he can somewhat identify- but hey, once his scent is masked- Naiche will wait for Hjalmar to show up.

       Hjalmar tries to sidestep into the mundane world again, inside the house this time. But damn it! The weaver's strands are thick here... He's slowly trying to wrestle himself a way through... But then! He's there... He looks around and his Crinos face twists in disgust as his hightened senses pick up the sensations rather well now.. He snarls and looks around for Naiche...

Naiche grumbles then as he offers aloud- the red and loodied Hispo stepping out of the shadows then. <<Go. Let's go. There go. Let's go. Yes? Get over with. Sneak up, get big eye- and prepare.>> The floppy, fat, and skinfolded- and now totally bloody Naiche just looking all stern and annoyed, <<Yes?>>

       Hjalmar nods at Naiche as the wolf appears out of the shadows again. <<Yes...>> And he turns in order to seek their foe... He gestures to Naiche to take point. <<Your nose better.>>

Naiche moves to snuffle nad sniff then for odd scents- scents for living scents- one that would of been older- and probably in the house itself. Naiche after being covered in blood- probably also has a good sense of what scents are not totally natural, so off Naiche goes, chuffing and sniffing around- checking around any doors too.

       Hjalmar follows Naiche as he lets the wolf do what he's best at.. The scouting and tracking thing! He moves as quiet as is possible for a Crinos in a human home. And he's ready to slash at anything that comes up to attack them... The smell of man is still there.. And by now, Naiche would probably be used to it as well.

Naiche for his part just stumbles in, sniffing then. Keeping his nose close to the ground, trying to investigate as best as he can, Luckily. being a lupus means that the horrifying sight of HUMAN's being murdered- bothers him about 0, it is however unnatural, and gross, so that is slightly weirding out Naiche. At least he is able to keep his focus.

       The sensitive snout of the Lupus tracks around, sniffing around. The music loud enough to drown out the clumsy moving of a cramped Crinos. While Naiche catches lingering scents under the old corpse, ShieldBrother notices the living room looks set up for an evening at home. A mug of coffee sits next to a lazy boy, a film of mold floating in it, while on the sofa next to the lazy boy, paused knitting, and a cup of tea in a similar state of neglect.
       Naiche's wet snort picks up, under the heavy copper smell, a male canine has recently climbed the stairs located on the south wall, while there's recent movement from two rooms; the two doors on the far right. One, the one to the south, contains smells like oil, while the north room doesn't contain anything distinctive.

       Hjalmar follows Naiche around.. Waiting for the wolf to point out a door they should bust to get to their enemy.. Always ready to strike, that is the way Hjalmar follows.

Naiche will quietly relay the information he has picked up with his snout in Lupus speech, as the Lupus just snorts and stares at the oily smelling door, and then looks about curiously, trying to determine the best way to approach the situation before licking at his chops and shrugging his shoulders, sliding up to sneak up against the door.

       Hjalmar points to the door Naiche singles out and watches the wolf ready himself. <<We go when you ready...>> And if the wolf would nod his ready, Hjalmar would go in, door and all.

Naiche wil have to wait until after Hjalmar barrels in, and in the interim, coax the lighting to life on his limbs, and rush in after Hjalmar, once he gets free of the door! The Lupus snarling and bounding in. Yup.

       Crashing into the room with the door, Hjalmar looks around for his target, ready to attack!

       The feat of strength necessary to breath down the door that leads into the garage is negligible for the Crinos. The door is flung inside, knocks against storage Tupperware inside.
       Inside.
       Warren Harmon looks up, suddenly when the door is kicked down. In the garage, he's turned it into something of a man cave. A drum set, a computer at which he's on. Glancing over his shoulder, it's plain to see he's drafting a flyer.

       But most importantly, upon seeing the Battleform'ed Garou, Warren isn't flung into delirium. He grins, a wicked mockery of a smile.
       Turning around to face the pair, he points with his one hand, his only one hand because he only has one arm while his form starts to shift, "I am Maggot's Kiss, Dancer of the Spiral. And it's about fuckin' time."

Naiche rushes in, slinking out from behind Hjalmar, and just tosses himself like a rapid animal at the transforming man, his lighting, his claws, shining in the light- arcing across his fur, as the floppy, flappy Hispo just tears into the man- or really his desk, everything else. Collateral damage is crazy at this point.

       Hjalmar busts the door, looks around, spots his target. The target starts a fucking dialogue, introducing himself as a BSD, and starts shifting.. Naiche attacks but gets blocked. Hjalmar focusses his gaze upon their enemy and claws the fuckers head off... As the body sags down, Hjalmar looks at the corpse. <<Had no time for this... Asshole.>>

       Blocking the one attack coming at him, with an air of superiority coming from his smoky green eyes, Warren leaves himself wide open for the follow up attack. The claws rip through Black Spiral Dancer neck, the wall behind Warren gives a sudden THUD as Maggot's Kiss' head bounces off and starts to roll. A fountain of blood squirts to the vaulted ceiling as the creature continues it's foul transformation, clothes melting into the furry form. The one arm isn't a battle scar. He is, or rather used to be, a Metis.
       Warren, who doesn't yet know he's dead continues to stand for a second. Then falls to his knees where a second, weaker squirt of blood decorates the walls, and then he falls forward.

Naiche snorts as he just stands there covered in blood before looking to Hjalmar then, << Fast. Much faster. Safer. If no one else here.. then good job? Should prepare for exit strategy. Hide our presence. Fire maybe?>> Then there is a pause as he looks about the area before staring at the weird computer monitor, looking it over <<WHen leave. Before leave. Grab That? Will have information about next actions. Behaviour.>> Naiche motions to the monitor, seeing words, and just making an assumption that was the important bit. In reality, what would need to be taken was the tower, but Naiche is trying to be smart!

       Hjalmar looks at Naiche next and nods. <<Need check house first for enemy? Or this all?>> He looks to the pc next and nods. <<Will take it. Good idea.>> Hjalmar then looks to the door they entered through. <<If no more enemy here. We leave and burn. If enemy here, we kill, then burn.>>

Naiche just shrugs his shoulders then. <<Can Start fire anyway. See if anyone comes to try and stop it in house? If no one? Then no one left kill.>> Naiche observes as he just moves to trot his way out- ignoring the inglorious death and corpse left behind by Hjalmar's awesome murdering. Dead human. Seen it ll before.

       Hjalmar nods. <<Can do.. But what if prisoner inside? You not got smell of human here? Live human?>> Hjalmar moves to the pc and shuts it down before unplugging it and lumbering it with him, being as gentle as possible.

Naiche walks along rather happy to be done with everything in question as the Lupus just licks at his chops and pushe his way back through the door to look over the disgusting carnage that has been left- all the blood and gore everywhere even as the Lupus looks at the oven. <<USe that. Cause fire maybe? DOesn't matter. Point is simple yes?>> There is a shake of his head then, naively meandering his way along, feeling like they are done. Metis- Man-ape- same thing, reasoning silly thing.

       Hjalmar is about to leave the room to gather fire starting stuff as he sighs.. <<Fire not hot enough for bone burn.. Need dispose other way.>> He sighs and sets down the pc case, some distance away from the corpse and sighs before starting to pull it apart.. Unless Naiche has a better idea... <<Naiche.. You spirit know.. Spirit help or not help?>>

Naiche blinks a he looks aside, <<Bear spirit disposes of corpse by eating it. Not allowed by Litany. Is bad idea. Best idea?>> There is a pause as Naiche looks around then, <<If worried about corpse being found.. then we have tools here. Just.. gather tools. Naiche will figure out way to cut up. Easy. Very easy. Just need to cut bones apart- make it hard to assemble complete skeleton, take some limbs with too, to hide in distance place. Even better.>> Naiche offers as he just turns to go help with the gross body disposal, that the player of Naiche wouldn't get into, but Naiche being Naiche, isn't too freaked out about.

       After a few grisly minutes of disassembling the corpse.. Or trying to at least. Hjalmar grunts and shakes his head.. <<No good...>> He looks around for a different solution as a memory strikes him. <<We call cleaners! From earlier!>> He closes his eyes for the shift and starts doing so. As soon as Hjalmar's back in homid form and finds a phone. He calls a certain number he remembered.. And it will not take a long while for a car outside to arrive from which some known faces step. The cleaners have arrived! Hjalmar takes the pc case again and nods at Naiche. "We can go now. They will finish this up and cleanse the place."

The sound of bones, sinew and flesh setting back into their original form can be heard coming from ShieldBrother as he becomes a tall muscular man with blond hair and blue eyes.

Aftermath

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   o From a previous encounter, Hjalmar is able to call a clean up crew staffed by Kinfolk to help eliminate the evidence of what's occurred in this house. The German Sheppard, whose tags read Zeus from its life-less corpse, is found upstairs, gnawing on the leg of the man of the house, found dead in the master bedroom, his back turned to ribbons, the end table draw open, where he got the Glock 17 in his hand, unfired, the bullets missing. Likely, he never got to them.
   o The computer turns out to be the house computer. The only file of note, is the party announcement that Warren had been working on when interrupted and summery killed. Unfinished, it doesn't note a venue or a date. But it does name the band, The Spirals. The symbol they use for their merchandise, a bastardization of the Garou symbol for the Defiler Wyrm.