2019.08.31 Lassie Never Had It This Bad With Timmy

Lassie Never Had It This Bad With Timmy
Tank tells the Devil's Own that Micah and Arryn fell down the well...er, Clock.
IC Date	Sometime in the Future and a Long Time Ago
IC Time	Afternoon
Players	Pancake, Jes, Isla, Branton, Royan, and to a lesser extent Aaryn, Sten, Micah, Miguel
Location	The Longhouse, Raven's Rock
Prp/Tp	Ravenscar
Spheres	Garou, Gaian,
Theme Song	People of the Land by Lincoln Durham

It's a usual day at Lucky Strike Falls. Well, as 'usual' as one can get at LSF. The members of DO are about, doing whatever it is they do. Iris, most likely is still working on her 'Big Damn Rock' in order to try and widdle it down to some reasonable size to fit it in the orrery. Then, as things tend to go with very powerul Theurge's life, her tranquility is interrupted by a spirit coming out of nowhere demanding something from her.

In this case, it is a large roan colored pit bull very familiar to her. He comes yelling and barking out of the umbra full charge, materializing with no regard to his or her personal safety, to usual pancaking effect!

~Mercy's Messenger come quick Micah and Aaryn fell in the clock~

Yep, working on Mars Rock is exactly what Iris is doing - although I gotta say it's coming along swimmingly! Very round, very red, not quite polished yet, but soon! Just chattin around with Branton and Jes probably, who knows! Till a spirit comes out of nowhere to try and smoosh her, causing Iris to SCREAM HER HEAD OFF and accidentally pop into the umbra. "AH GOD DAMN IT!" she complains before attempting to exercise the will to get BACK into the physical world. Still in the same spot on the ground, so still being squished probably. "What! What? ...What??"

Branton is gathering up shards and dust from the rock shaping, who knows what usefulness might be found in such reagents, when the freaked out spirit-doggo charges in. Branton blinks at his Fiance and asks Tank "In the....clock?"

So there's this part of the lodge roof that's like a little deck, right? Except there's no way to get there because no doors or windows open onto it. And that's where Jes is, passed out on a padded deck chair under a shady umbrella with the remnants of a six pack and a carafe of iced tea nearby, one hand on a stubbed-out Nat Sherman and the other just sort of holding a tennis ball. When the dog appears, he just sort of startles awake, blinking behind his sunglasses and muttering, ".../who/ fell on a cock?"

The pit bull pumps the brakes well enough to not do major damage this time, but he spins around thrice in a circle, barking excitedly and explaining (as best a War Spirit from the Realm of Nerigal can do, really) ~Come quick! This is an enemy unlike I have ever seen! It opened its maw and devoured Bob and then the Raven. And then Aaryn Micah and the fucknkrmous cat all at once! It even ate the sour one! All gone! The clock cannot be defeated be me alone. I need our allies to avenge this atrocity!~

"There's a fucknormous cat? And a Bob? And everyone's getting eaten? Holy shit Little Timmy had it way easier with Lassie." Iris says while she's getting up off the ground. She looks to Branton and says, "Baby go get stuff, I'm gonna go grab my bow and purse." Everything she needs'll be in it, so that's good! "JES! Get pants and your gun, I think we have to fight a clock!" Somehow, that's actually not the weirdest thing she's ever said. "Don't worry, Tank! We'll help you get 'em back!"

Branton has a large duffle and a heavy frame hiking pack of assorted stuff and things that he grabs from his truck and he calls out "On it!" and he considers briefly what to bring and just grabs it all rather than make decisions at this point.

"Right. Gun. Pants. Got it," Jes replies, pushing himself out of his seat and stretching languidly several times to limber up. He lights up another cigarette and takes a drag before moving to the edge of the roof and going Spider=Man down the side to the window, creepy=crawling in and rummaging around. He eventually comes out the front door in an entirely different outfit, wearing a pair of cyan Chuck Taylor All-Stars with spurs on the heels, a button-up shirt that looks like it was designed by Jackson Pollock, and the DAMNEDEST peacock-eye design pants Gaia has ever seen fit to allow in existence. He is wearing his last 3 beers with his wrist through the plastic six pack ring like a bracelet, and wearing his gold Elvis sunglasses like armor. "Aight. Time to shine."

When the DO arrive at the Longhouse, everything seems normal from the outside. The raven's are still perched on nearby watching over everything. Cars are still parked in the drive. Everything seems in order, until they go inside. There they find the Longhouse eerily empty and quiet, the remains of meal left out. Cups are knocks over, spilling mead onto the floor. A few pieces of paper blow across the floor. A clear plastic sleeve containing a raven feather lies half on/half off a table. Dominating the room is an antique grandfather clock made of burnt cherry wood - or is it cherry wood that has been burnt? It definitely looks like it has seen better days. From where it sits it seems to loom over the entire area. If there was a clock that looked like it might eat someone, this would be it. The hands on the clock are not moving. The time on the clock reads 3:14.

"Looks like shit went down at the crack 'o pi," Jes mutters when he looks the clock over, reaching up to scratch the side of his nose and subsequently smacking himself in the chin with a can of Ten Fidy Imperial Stout. He grunts, pulling the can off and cracking it open to pour the thick black motor oil of a beer into a discarded drinking horn and taking a sip. "Well, it's clear to my trained detective's eyes that this was a murder/suicide pact gone right. They obviously ate each other, and that's why there's no evidence left."

Iris probably has a room here where she can put her limited amounts of stuff, even if technically she insists on sleeping outside and under bushes all the time instead. So that's where she runs to grab some Theurging supplies. Mostly a few talens, but also a few random components and corrospondants as well. Never know what you're gonna need when you... go... battle a fuckin... a clock, dude. Bow, quiver, the usual stuff! As a last minute quick stop, she grabs a few things from the kitchen. Dunno how long this will take or where this is gonna take her and her friends, so it'd be wise to grab a little food, surely!

Isla, who is for sure totally here somewhere, also gets Needful Things so she can go with. But like, bringing up the rear or something. And then they're off! "...Holy shit. Tank, what happened?"

Tank slides up in front of the clock, growling menacingly at it, fightin' words, for sure! And then he pauses and looks up at Jes, ears flopped to one side as he chuffs ~They did not eat one another! The clock ate them all~ He paws at a the door of the clock insistently, as if to demonstrate where the thing's teeth are hidden. ~Bob The Spider, and Brother-in-Arms against String was the first to meet his fate. And then the Raven, Aaryn and the Sour Comrade.... All of them.~ He pauses, wriggling in urgency and lets out a desperate whine!

Iris is very much looking worried when looking around the deserted longhouse. Maybe you expect little things when excitable spirits wig out, but this is like beginning-of-a-horror-movie wrong here. Now, she's no detective or anything, but she's not an idiot either, so she finds something to focus on and goes for it, starting to pick up scattered papers from floor and table, and the plasting sheathed feather from the table. As a nerd, obviously she believes Smart Stuff will come from pages, so she starts trying to get those in order. "I don't see any blood or anything, so we have to assume everyone's okay for now, and just misplaced."

Iris reads, and after a moment her face falls. "Nooooooooooooo oh shit. TIME TRAVEL! Wibbly, wobbly, timey, wimey, STUFF!" Iris grabs her head and squeezes to hold her brain in... Then passes around the note. The feather though, after a look at it, gets jammed into the safest place she can think of: her bra. Branton takes out a crystaline pendant and holds it up to look through, trying to get a read on the sort of oddness that's gone on, following traces he winds up looking over by the clock "And the clock has a key in it."

Jes looks at the clock again, then checks his watch -- well, holds up the wrist that his remaining two beers are dangling from -- and notes, "Okay, so either the clock stopped at pi o' clock in the middle of the night or yesterday, /or/ the time was never properly set, /or/ it just kind of changes to whatever time it wants because it's an evil possessed clock and we're in a fucking Blumhouse movie."

While Iris gathers up papers, he... stays still. He is smoking his cigarette and drinking his oblivion-black beer, blowing jets of smoke out his nostrils and peering at the room behind sunglasses fit for a very particular King. Finally he speaks; "So whoever sent this thing knew exactly who it was going to and why. And I don't mean that in a 'they had the correct address' way; I mean this was a called shot. So I think it's personal. And I think it may be an old grudge. And also the Texans traded Jadaveon Clowney to the Seahawks. Called it."

"Agreed," Iris says to Jes while boob-pocketing the feather, "Owmytittywhatthefuck! Gaia this thing is *super* sharp!" And then I wanna say that it still goes in the bra except that I just now remembered Iris cant wear a bra due to a fetish-ban, so instead we're gonna alter that to 'stuck into the top of her shirt'. Same diff, just less straps involved and it probably looks really stupid but also SAFE. For the feather. Not for Iris.

"Okay well, at least one thing's for certain, "They probably went into that place at that time, probably through that clock cause Tank said it ate them but was more probably a.. door.. thing. But they definitely forgot their quill, and that's probably problematic for them. The adorable little fuckers ran after us on Mars, obviously we gotta repay the favor. Anyone find the key mentioned in here?"

Tank sticks his nose at the base of the clock, tail in the air and lets out the pitifullest muffle-whine you ever did hear ~Micah? Aaryn? Battle friend??? Comrade???~

Branton gestures at the clock "I can see it still in the clock, though I'm not sure if that's because of my spell to read the resonance. Its a shifter made fetish, which is interesting. It reads like a portal for sure." Then to Tank "Don't worry fella, we'll find em."

Jes arches an eyebrow at Iris' outburst before reaching his hand out and snapping once before making a gimme-gimme motion with his fingers. "Give me that before you pierce a nipple," he states, moving his cigarette to the corner of his mouth. "That's some Corax shit. It's just gonna keep trying to stab you in the tit, and while I don't necessarily /object/ to the need for eventually laying on hands like Jimmy Swaggert, I can just hear you wincing and cursing every ten seconds until I take it away from you."

       He takes another swig of black beer, not even bothering to pluck the cigarette from his lips, and sighs. "Great. So it looks like our big rescue plan has gone from 'find how they got trapped in a clock' to 'go in after them the same way, like fucking dolts'. I just love being a goddamn hero."

Jes pages: Nah. I know what it is, but wanted to be sure Jes would know.

And, from somewhere already inside the clock - The raven has only one thing on his mind, and that is Bob. That loveable little spider of his is the only tie he has to this world, really. All else be damned! So once the clock opens and the portal begins to suck in air, there was no hesitation. It was not entirely clear what he was expecting out of it, though. Did he expect air? The ability to fly? Well, if he was, thats not what he gets! Tumbling about like some great big black chicken that just now figured out it really can NOT fly, he goes 'KRAAA!' and flaps about wildly. And the darkness! He'd pull his out fetish, but if he lost THAT as well, he'd be livid! So, through the darkness he goes, hoping as HELL that in the end, there will not be that great big Closed Window that sends so many birds to meet their makers!

Iris SIGHS. "Fiiiiiiine." She then heads over to hand Jes the Feather. She then frowns, looking past him and into the clock. "String..." She starts, then stops. She gets a little shifty and suspicious then... "Here, friend!" she says brightly, hands Jes the feather, then reaches over to thwap the key and shove Jes at the clock! Sorry bro, I'd claim Iris was less of an asshole but that's what you get with Wyrm rearing. She just wants to know if the portal is ON! That's all! Discovery requires experimentation...

Jes keeps his hand out for the feather with a world-weary look of condescension, but he's mainly paying attention to the note in his other beer-holding hand. "This is some Back to the Future III shit," he mutters, and... yeah, see, he really shouldn't drop his guard like that around Iris. It /isn't safe/. But between the cigarette and the beer and the note and the feather, he's just sort of lost the plot. And then... a shove.

And, inside the clock - Flying through utter darkness with no sense of direction? Oh, for the poor raven that is falling! Falling of the worst kind! It all but panics him until he sees that sliver, glimmer, of webbing. And thats when he realises he's been stupid! He's here to find Bob and, hoping and praying the little guy is still alive and in here, he tries to focus on sensing where he is through is bond with him. Using the webs as a guide, he then begins to fly towards where he hopes Bob is felt. Or.. failing that.. towards the webs!

Iris shoves Jes and he lurches into the clock. SLAM! He his bounces off the clock.

Then? The key is turned. In the world of spirit there is a bright flash of light that blinds anyone looking into that spectrum. Jes sees a flash as well, as a mild concussion has him picturing himself on an episode of Ridiculousness in a Scorpion pose.

A loud BONG! rings through the longhouse, loud enough that you can feel it through the floor and the walls. BONG! The clock sounds again. And the front of the clock opens like a door, revealing the guts of the machine. And Jes feels himself shoved again, right towards the open doors.

BONG! It rings again, and where there should be a pendulum that swings back and forth to count the time and emote the ticking of time there is only empty space. In that space, falls Jes.

"You're a biiiiiiiiiitch...!" are Jes' words of retort after the second shove, and then he's on a Dr. Who-Gives-a-Fuck trip through time. Or Colonel Ticktock, if you'd rather. Or Inspector Spacetime. Whatever; it's time-themed. Wubalubbadubdub.

The laugh that comes from Iris when shoving Jes into the clock WORKS is truly maniacle, the lunatic clapping her hands and bouncing a bit on her toes, equal parts super villain and excited 30-something kid. She's also tearing up a bit. Time is the ultimate intersection of chaos and order, it attracts and repels Iris in equal measure, so she's both looking forward to this and dreading it like crazy all at the same time. She still goes though, not *just* because Isla will probably stab her if she doesn't, after that whole shoving Jes in thing. Codependant people, *gawd*! Anyhoo, she hurls herself thoughtlessly at the unknown as soon as Jes's Big Ol Dick is out of the way.

BONG! A rush of wind, stale and old like opening a fresh tomb rushes out and casts dust into the air and the letter flies from the table and swirls through the air. And Jes blinks out of existence across some gauntlet like barrier.

BONG! A rush of wind rushes in the opposite direction, like when doors are left open on a windy day and a crosswind comes rushing through a house. Only this rush of wind seems to poor into the clock.

Somewhere, inside the clock - Hraf can sense Bob. He's excited about something, almost purring with happiness. ~Oh, this is a /nice/ web!~ He senses Hrafn now although he seems a bit distracted ~Ohhhhhh Magnificent Feather! Look at this web I've found! Come take a look!~ But the question is... Which web?’ But to Hrafn, that means only one thing. Bob is alive, he's still in here and he can sense him! Well, hopefully! So, without really hesitating, he sets off after his little friend! He'll go through all the webs if he has to!

Branton looks over to String and the web line its inching along to go through the portal and follows that rather than playing the push, fall, jump game.

Oh no! Not again. This stupid clock ate his people, he isn't just gonna stand by while it eats their friends! Tank scrambles forward, and chases behind at Branton's feet. He is NOT getting left behind this time! ~I'm coming Spirit and Rage Crescent! I'll save you!~

As Iris and Jes leap through the clock you feel your stomach jump into your throat as if you've just gone down the highest roller-coaster you've ever ridden. You feel as if you're flipping end over end, or is it that your laying flat and spinning around on your back. Oh god, this is what it feels like to be sucked down the drain of a bathtub. You're aware of a faint light, a streak, coming up to meet you but it flips in your vision. A sudden panic hits you, if you don't reach that light you might fall like this forever. You twist, you reach out and try and make it...

Unlike Iris, who does not tend to learn these things until AFTER doing a stupid. Well... Fuck it. Might as well just enjoy the ride! And like, try and make sure she doesn't end up coming out of the wrong flue in Diagon Alley.

Somewhere, form inside the clock - While flying in this weird darkness holds a certain challenge to it, there is nothing that he likes about it. So when the webbing pops back, he takes the opportunity and grabs hold of it with both beak and with talons so to make sure he will not fall off. And with his talons, there is no way he is falling off! Strong talons for the win! There are definitely...THINGS out there. Other thin filament lines trace the darkness to the left, to the right, above you, below you. Around them swirl mirrored images, or maybe shiny crystalline spirits which shimmer and move. You can see some ahead of you, and as they sense your presence, they begin to move in your direction.’

This isn't so bad for Iris, who has consumed enough drugs and alcohol over her lifetime that she is actually MORE dexterous when her senses are altered than when she is walking on solid ground. She shifts her body, does a weightless round off and lands on a very thin bridge, as thin as that of a the thinnest new moon bridge. It shimmers a metallic color. There is a thin spider web filament acting as a guideline.

Somewhere, inside the clock - The raven has a good bead on the shiny things coming at him, but he can do nothing about them for now. He tries to move along the webbing instead, trying to find some way to shield himself should it be necessary. But if things get bad, he will just let go and fly off! For now, though, he is looking around for Bob!

Branton, String and Tank bring up the rear, walking onto the bridge without the roller-coaster ride before hand.

Sometimes, in an emergency situation where your perception is kaleidescoped and somehow the soundtrack is Ted Nugent's "Journey into the Center of Your Mind" even though you don't really /care/ for Ted Nugent, the best thing to do is focus on something small. For Jes, that's focusing on /not losing his cigarette/. So he tumbles kidneys over clavicles in a technicolor industrial dryer before landing on his tiptoes and freezing in place to make sure his brain stops spinning when his body does. So there he is, one hand frozen with the cigarette to his lips, the other hand frozen with his beer and the letter, T-Rexing on tippytoes, the spurs on his heels spinning like Pimp My Ride, and he mutters to Iris, "I am gonna shave a dick into your scalp, Goop Mistress."

Somewhere inside the clock - The crystal mirrors continue to move toward you. The twist and twirl and shimmer around you. They don't attack, but they hover and swirl around you. That is when you realize you can hear voices and see images reflected in them. Images of other times, past times, events that have come before. They crave your attention and move to be seen, to be heard. And as you look into them, you see reflected back at you, events from your past. Past love, past pain, past triumph and past defeat. Do you long for that lost love, they ask? Reach for them and you have be there again. Do you wish to avenge a fallen loved one or comrade? Your enemy is here. Take him by the throat. Want to repair a mistake you made? Here is the tool. Just let go of the rope and step out and you can. You can fix EVERYTHING.’

Branton is struck by a thought from Jes' threat and says down to String "Invention idea, alchemical marking pens that leave behind tatoos." Not really expecting the familiar to remind him but at least wanting to say it out loud. Then he looks ahead at the others and calls out "Everyone alright?"

Yeah Iris cant handle just plain walking, it's the most difficult thing ever next to braining Math. But a skinny little path with the chance of eternal horror if she slips? THAT she can handle like a pro. All balance and acrobatic badassery, once she's landed and whipped her arms out to adjust her balance and avoid that fall... She's fine! "That was great and terrible and I hate it and love it, let's never EVER do that again right after we do that again!" Sticking her tongue out at Jes, she grins and says, "Not if I get to your scalp first, Jester." It's gonna be a good old fashioned dickoff. "You okay?" She DOES totally care! And keeps an eye out for the spirits, Branton and Isla, reaching out to rescue her familiar and offer a hand to Tank. Cause Tank aint got no thumbs. "Yes I am, my love! And that may be where we're going. OR we end up in jurrassic park. Either way, I'm okay with it. I wanna eat another dinosaur!"

From somewhere inside the clock - Oh, those mirrors. Those whacky, weird mirrors that shows things from his past! But they will not fool him! They are the past! He is looking to the future! The future is what holds all the new secrets to be learned and spoken out loud. So he ignores the old ones, the ones already spoken to the winds and instead he moves forward; heading for Bob!

The thin straight line - In the clock it was barely a filament, a thin spider's web. Here it is larger, thicker, able to be held in the hand. As it goes on it seems to get thicker and thicker. All around them it is nearly pitch black, but not quite. There are definitely...THINGS out there. Other thin filament lines trace the darkness to the left, to the right, above you, below you. It's a bit of a MC Esher existential horror vibe. What is up? What is down? How long would you have fallen had you missed?

Around the filaments (Strings? - Are these bigger versions of String? Webs? Is there a spider gonna be in here?) swirl mirrored images, or maybe shiny crystalline spirits which shimmer and move. You can see some ahead of you, lining both sides of your path like a tree lined street.

"I mean, I'm glad I had my tonsils out as a kid because otherwise I'd be choking on my own balls, and I'm pretty sure someone pissed my pants, but beyond that...," replies Jes snarkily, reaching down to pat his crotch. His brow knits, and then he says, "Ah. Just beer. Good. Better than expected.".

       The Ragabash relaxes, putting his heels down even though his spurs are /still spinning/, and checks his waistband to be sure... yep, two pistols, still there. He empties his drinking horn, cracking his second beer and pouring it in while grumbling "Should've packed more beer", and looks around at this... filament fest. He smokes his cigarette and keeps a lookout, adding, "If I see 'Some Pig' crocheted in the sky I am fucking /out/."

Branton chuckles at Iris "We'll have to pencil in a field trip to Pangea. I'd be willing to bet a considerable amount of money that we're going to land sometime in eighteen ninety two. If the letter is real and true." The pendant got put away at some point and the duffle's being carried in one hand and he looks around some "Lets not dawdle yeah? This high wire shit is going to get old super quick."

Raven in distress! Raven in distress! Well, possibly, at least. That faint 'kraaa' sound from up ahead must be from a raven. Who else would kraa? Certainly not anything but a raven! But he sounds unhappy, and that sound that he makes, it is as if he is calling out for someone. Or something. He certainly sounds a bit distressed, if ravens now can sound distressed!

Iris starts forward, glancing back and forth from her path to her surroundings, but she starts getting even more interested in what's up ahead of them. Her eyes get big and the Theurge's interest is immediately lassoed. "I don't know what those are!" she says in an awed breath, "I swear it sounds like they're eating our bird friend or something, but they're so *pretty* I *really* hope we don't have to punch them!" She picks up the pace, twitching the sleeves of her companions, "C'mon!" Yeah hey, just running into weird shit has never once proven to be a bad idea, let's go! But honestly, there's more worry in her tone there than excitement, because they MIGHT have a friend being eaten!

The crystal mirrors begin to move toward you and with them comes a kraaing Raven. The spirits twist and twirl and shimmer around you. They don't attack, but they hover and swirl around you. That is when you realize you can hear voices and see images reflected in them. Images of other times, past times, events that have come before. They crave your attention and move to be seen, to be heard. And as you look into them, you see reflected back at you, events from your past. Past love, past pain, past triumph and past defeat. Do you long for that lost love, they ask? Reach for them and you can be there again. Do you wish to avenge a fallen loved one or comrade? Your enemy is here. Take him by the throat. Want to repair a mistake you made? Here is the tool. Just let go of the rope and step out and you can. You can fix EVERYTHING.

Iris does not display good things for the most part, and there is *nothing* she wants from her past, and even if there was a little something here and there playing off a rare Good Moment, that is suspicious as fuck. "No touching weird things." she comments quietly. "Can you get them out of your way?" she asks Jes ahead of her, and puts a hand on his shoulder in case he needs a comforting anchor. Meanwhile she does her best to ignore a detailed vivisection and a couple kids playing on a rocky beach shown in a few different spirit-bodies.

Time, ironically enough, begins to lose all meaning as you all continue to travel onwards, forward, or is it backwards, into the past. The webs in the distance grow thicker and stronger. Some of them look like you could climb on them and walk on them as easily as you could the bridge you are walking along. The web you hold is large enough now to fit under the crook of your arm and it is getting larger. Soon it may be so big that you are pushed off the bridge entirely, you may have to resort to climbing on it, or falling.

As they get closer to where the Kraa's are coming from, they would come upon the visage of a large, back raven holding on to the bridge as if it was going to fall off from under him. He is not really moving forward. He's just sitting still, claws gripping the strands under him. He's still letting out that Kraaaaa! sound, though, as if he was desperately calling for someone.

Tank begins to bark! ~Hrafn! Battle birb! Raven friend! We're here to rescue you!~

It's kind of Iris to offer a comforting hand and all, but the last time she reached out and touched Jes he went tumbling butt over brain into this mess, so he immediately swats her hand away like a horsefly and blows smoke at it menacingly before continuing on his way. He doesn't give a word or sign of what he's seeing -- two boys standing back-to-back with their fists up, surrounded by a dozen other kids; a pretty teenage girl in a sun dress holding open a hidden side-door to a hayloft; a seedy poker table with entirely too many chips in the middle and an /impossible/ natural straight -- but instead takes a big swig of beer and a long drag that kills his Nat Sherman and utters two clear, flat words. "Fuck. This.".

As you travel further into the past, past your own timelines into the past, the images the spirits show change. Events of the past, maybe of Prospect, maybe not. In some, you might see the deeds of your ancestors, or of the heroes of your tribes. These events do not seem as tempting but they are there. If one were to let themselves get distracted they could spend forever getting a first person view of the past. They might lose themselves in here forever and forget to return to living in the present.

Yeah she earned that, Iris doesn't seem too put off about the brush off. With the path under them starting to get out of reach with the growing cable in hand, Iris opts to climb and balance-beam it, eyes open and aiming for the bird. "String says Bob's missing. The spider, his familiar I think. We miiiight be getting closer to him." As she's just the message-passer, she doesn't sound entirely sure, but she keeps her eyes open for Bob Sign to follow.

As if the mere act of holding on to the strands and webbings were enough for the raven to know where to go, he uses that grip as he begins to move forward. It is a strange thing, though, as he seems to refuse to take flight. Instead, he keeps his wings spread for balance, to then start to move forward still with that death grip he has on the stringy material under him.

But before the web can grow so large that you lose your footing, Hrafn, then Iris and then one by one the others begin to see a light approaching. With that light you hear a sound.

BONG! You can feel it vibrating through the web.

BONG! Have you circled back around to your own time? Is the longhouse ahead?

BONG! And then below you, underneath the bridge you see floating in mid air - the clock. This one, unburnt, unmarred.

Past the clock, the strand of time continues to grow. There, sitting on the strange weaving a web to try and connect the giant strand of time to the clock, is Bob, the Spirit Familiar.

Branton looks at the clock, the strand, and the familiar "There we are. Still not the weirdest day I've ever had." As an aside to Iris Branton says "The Flux realm." like that explains it.

Jes rubs his face, putting another cigarette to his lips and lighting it so he can take three drags before drinking more of the cancer-dark beer in his drinking horn. "I cannot fucking believe I am about to fucking say what I am about to fucking say, but... Rainbow Blight, this is your fucking area of expertise. We're gonna have to trust you to get us out of the beginning of the third act of Interstellar. Stag fucking save us."

Isla has not had too much to say up until this point. She does chime in her agreement with Jes. "Fucking Hell. Goop Mistress, you're our only hope. Fuck I wish we were back on Mars. I'm sure you have a crazy hair-brained idea on what we can do from here."

The Raven, hobbling forward as best as he can, suddenly stops. His head lifts up and he lets out a really loud sound as he lets go of the bridge and just flies ahead, moving fast and not so very graceful. He's heading for the spider and, if you've never seen a large black raven cuddle up to a huge black spider with eight legs and as many eyes before, you will see it now!

"Oh. Great. FINE. So we're all gonna die is what you're saying. And I haven't even seen that movie, Jes!" Iris wails! And then reaches out to her spirit familiar mentally, where they have a brief but silent conversation before String attempts to connect her and Bob the Spider.

~Oh! Hello, Magnificent Feather!~ Bob, of course, seems totally nonplussed at all the chaos he's started. ~Looook at this weeeeeeb!~ He's excited. It's cute. But? Is it /forgiveable/? ~It's really very nice. I've never seen one like it before. And there's string!~

Branton shrugs and grins at Iris "I haven't seen it either so we'll write our own ending. Its what we're best at." as he tries to be supportive.

This, apparently, is your stop. But to get there, you're gonna have to take a bit of a... wait for it... Quantum Leap.

Iris reaches way down (up? to the left?) to Bob with the string, which abruptly oscillates in amazing, brilliant colors. "You little pigeon bastard!" Iris mutters to herself, after ALL THAT WORK! Not... that she did a ton of work, really. "Well okay, I mean diving into a clock worked out really well LAST time, sooooo. Two for two?" So she jumps into the clock! WHY NOT! Adventures are awesome.

Branton has a habit of saying 'screw it, why not' which gets him into all sorts of troublesome adventures but this isn't the flux realm so he's not even close to worried until he's plus or minus three limbs. The embossed wings on the ankles of his leather boots flash briefly and he flies down after Iris into the clock.

One by one the travelers leap towards the clock after the raven. Hrafn disappears almost instantly, hitting the opening square in the middle. Iris follows, String forming himself into the shape of a lasso and grabbing Tank around the middle and dragging the war spirit along with them. Isla bangs off the side and slides in, letting out a few choice Irish words as she disappears into the unknown. That doesn't impede Branton who takes inspiration from the Raven and decides to fly to the clock in his pumped up kicks. Jes uses Fly Feet and just walks down with an air of 'Fuck this Shit'.

You are all ejected from the clock. The raven and Bob flying out and into the air, narrowly missing a large crinos Bastet getting to his feet. Iris, as is her habit, pancakes into the floor, but makes a much softer landing that she expects, landing on the back of Micah as he is pushing himself off the floor. Isla slams spread eagle into her back, placing Micah's head, inappropriately between her outspread thighs. Jes comes slamming into her, cussing and coughing out a mixture of dark beer and cigarette smoke as Isla's elbow catching him in the diaphram. Branton comes walking out of the clock walking on air, slick as you please.

As you all catch your breath and look up this is what you see....

There are some people who always manage to look well coifed and put together no matter the time of day or ridiculous situation they find themselves - like being woken in the middle of the night by a clock that has never before made a sound only to find that said clock is a door that is spilling out a bunch of strangers into your sitting room. Apparently, this man is one of those sort.

Standing at what you might estimate is about 6’ tall, give or take, this blonde haired, blue-eyed, clean-shaven gentleman looks like he is made of the best Scandinavian stock. A fine blue on black silk embroidered vest is open over a well-made, hand sewn, silk and only slightly rumpled shirt, the top three buttons scandalously unbuttoned. The sleeves of the shirt are folded back precisely up to the elbow. Well-manicured hands hold a long, thin but deadly sharp rapier and a cocked pistol pointed directly at you.

Now wait a second, a pistol pointed at company? That isn’t very gentlemanly after all, what kind of first impression is that? And, as if that weren't jarring enough for the newly-arrived houseguests, there's a definite ca-click-clack and you're staring down the barrel of a shotgun, armed by a lean, tall woman with as much Scandinavian stock as her gentleman counterpart with the rapier pointed your way. She has long hair and appears to be dressed in a white linen nightgown. She's holding the gun like a pro, however, so you might want to think quick.

Sten, from underneath the pile of his pack and their allies, the large man groans slightly "Mister Volucris Jase Skarne I assume?"

Jes just keeps the hand with his cigarette in it held up in a 'hold the fuck on' gesture toward Swede Caroline and Chuck Norse over there, hacking up smoke and bits of beer that he's apparently simultaneously attempted to breathe and giving zero fucks about pistols and rapiers and shit while he deals with that problem. He takes his time, coughing and flinching and finally getting himself mostly-square before putting his cigarette back in his mouth and regaining his composure. Once he's done that, he adjusts his sunglasses and looks at the Danish Duo before stating clearly, "Put those the fuck down before we start to feel unwelcome. Jesus. What are you gonna do with a sword /and/ a pistol? Like, you look totally Harlequin Romance right now, but you can't fucking dual wield those like this is a hacky John Woo flick. If you're gonna go dual wield, you've really gotta plan it out, because your brain can really only adjust for so many contingencies and it kind of needs to keep Lefty and Righty within the same basic move set. For example."

       Jes plucks the cigarette out of his mouth and drains his drinking horn, replacing the cigarette carefully and then just /dropping/ the horn. Before the fucking thing hits the ground, he's got a pistol in each hand pointed at each of the two blondes. "Like so. Hi. My name's Death's Jester. Shall we knock this shit off already?"

Iris tries to get herself up a bit and untangled, with a bit less difficulty than she might otherwise have. HolyshitGUN! Naturally, as a fine upstanding citizen, a being of pure heart and soul, Iris selflessly... throws Jes under the bus. Again. "He has the stuff!" she blurts while whipping her hands up. I mean technically that's true, he does have the letter and the feather, but it probably also comes out as 'rob my friend, just let me live' or something. Her good and caring nature is then probably rewarded by being smooshed under Tank when he's checking on his pet Theurges.

And Tank is checking on his pet theurges. Currently he is licking Micah all over his face and wagging his butt. ~I saved you!~

There's a groan and Aaryn peels herself up off the floor by way of Zyler's (Wait. ZYLER'S?) Pantsleg. She reaches up to snap her neck back in place and.. Seeing that weapons are drawn, she just lifts her hands in surrender. "Sup, Jester, thanks for comin' out," she says, without really breaking eye contact with the Shotgun Wielding chica.

Indeed, as the members of Devil's own right themselves they see a very large bastet as well as the members of Frostbite and Zyler all getting to their feet as well. It seems that somehow, they've all arrived at the same time, or near enough.

Branton is the one with a heavy duffle bag and hiking back pack, all sorts of gear. He looks around as various weapons get pointed various places and just brings up his right hand like he's going to throw a baseball and looks around as the duffle hits the floor with a metallic clank as he spots the clock "Principle of sympathy? Not exactly because they're the same clock. Temporal mechanics makes my head hurt."

Sten has a hard time gaining some respect from below a pile that is his pack managing to get up holding his hands up looking to DO... how the hell did they get here so fast? It didn't matter "Do not shoot please" this was aimed at all people with things that spit lead at eachother "Here peacefully... the clock brought us... it was given to our Alpha" even using some of that Persuasion gift juice just to be persuasive enough.

"Wouldn't miss it, kid," Jes replies deadpan to Aaryn past the cigarette in his lips, two guns out in crazy fashionwear like Clint Hollywood starring in High Umbral Drifter. He's frozen in place, watching the Frostpite dogpile in his peripheral vision but keeping them guns aimed at perfect Nordic faces because you don't wanna blink when you might have to perform frontier rhinoplasty. He's not moving, the Vikings aren't moving, and smoke is rising from his cigarette when he suddenly whistles the familiar intro to 'The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly' before clearly saying, "Tick tick tick tick tick tick...."

The man with the pistol and the sword looks from face to face with some amount of confusion and, he looks as if he is about to cock the pistol at Jes but seems to reconsider the wisdom of it. His eyes go to the raven that has flow up and found a perch on his bannister and then his attention is caught by Sten, "Excuse me, what? Alpha? He glances around. So you are wolves, but you have a Bastet with you. What kind of invasion is this?"

Isla has lived through the jump, stands up and as she sees pistols and swords, out comes her bow. Quiver natually still on her hip, she has the arrow in and ready to fire as she holds it up. "Are you feelin' lucky? Cause I sure am." She is aimed at the Norse man ahead of her, noting the Frostbite pack to the side. But the man is speaking about invasion? "Invasion? This is a fucking rescue operation. We're here to get them back."

Aaryn turns towards the member's of the Devil's Own and holds up her hands, "Wait! We're here to help. Put down the weapons," she turns back to the blonde man, "Are you Feather Picks the Lock? We got your letter. We've got the quill." She pats her chest. "Shit I don't have the quill."

The Blonde Woman with the Shotgun begins to look confused as Jes speaks. Well, more confused than /usual/, anyway... The shotgun lowers, by just a touch. "What is he /saying/?" She whispers to the man at her side, but gives an upend to Jes, "you lower your..." she eyes those sleek guns, "pistols? Mr. Harlequin. And I'll follow suit in due time."

"The really weird kind." Iris mutters, wrestling her way out from under tank and then up to her feet. "Holy shit guys, calm down." Iris says, attempting to put a hand on Isla's arrow, "I think we literally just burst into some poor family's living room out of nowhere. Out of a clock. Everyone stand down right now! You're not being invaded, and we're not under attack." She points to Jes and says to Aaryn, "He has it, it was left on the table, he has the quill and the letter. And the quill cut my tater, kinda stings a bit but I'm fine. Tank came and got us when something happened to you, that's all we found, so we brought it with us."

"Here's the thing, Ragnar and Lagertha," Jes says flatly, the smile fading from his lips. It doesn't matter that he has a plastic six pack ring with a single beer on it dangling from one wrist; he still manages to look like he's not fucking around anymore. He hears Iris, but Iris isn't his boss. "Put your weapons the fuck /down/ or I am gonna start counting backwards from ten, and when I hit an unspecified number I am going to turn your faces into question marks."

       He takes a long, slow drag on his cigarette, breathing smoke out his nose, and declares, "/Ten/.".

The blonde man lowers the pistol and sets it on a nearby end table. The sword he keeps in his hand. "I AM Feather Picks the Lock, but no one should know that name. He looks back to Sten, "And I am not Volucris. Perhaps one day if I should live that long." He glowers at Jes and then lowers his sword as well. "Put the gun away Olivia. We don't want a stray bullet to hurt one of the children and they outnumber us."

There's a slight creak of wood from up above those gathered here in this throwback sitting room. A further squeak and then there's a sudden flutter from the ceiling, a chaos of nightgown and small cartwheeling arms and legs as a tiny body falls from the rafters. It hits the back of a rather ornate-looking couch for the time period, and then tumbles behind the piece of furniture. There's a beat, and then a tiny voice calls out, "...I'm OK!" Neither the man nor the woman turn at the sound, but the woman's lips purse just a bit and she sighs. With a sidelong glance to her male counterpart, she lowers the shotgun and calls out, "Ryder, you're supposed to be in bed."

Jes' eyebrow shoots up at the well-timed pratfall, but when the man puts his weapons down and the woman lowers her shotgun he spins his pistols around like Doc Holliday and tucks them back in his waistband, kneeling to pick up his drinking horn and fill it with his last motor oil beer. "Floor's all yours, boss," he says to Isla before taking a sip and symbolically stepping back three paces to cede the lead to his Alpha. He does, however, look over to the Frostbite pack and note wryly, "This is why you always leave a note."

Micah murmurs, "Didn't really have that kind of time."

Sten frowns "Iris is right, we have fallen into their home and they are no threat and we should not be a threat" he takes abit of a breath as he remembering who is telling what is and what is not... they far outrank him but he could not stand that all of this would cause these people harm for no reason. "there is not reason... for violence" trying to smooth it over the large blond swede on his feet again. "Alderic here got a letter from you sent to us... these lands are..." he hesitates "Erm... " looking to the elders "What are the rules of time traveling? And we never had a chance for a note... it was bit suprising"

Since Jes wont hand them over himself, Iris moves over and starts searching the Ragabash manually and without any particular niceness to get the letter and the quill off him and give them to the Frostbite pack, muttering under her breath in Greek a bit while she does it. Assuming she can get to them, that is. She shrugs at Sten meanwhile and says, "I'm not sure, I only ever did it once and it was just for a minute."

Isla lowers the bow and the arrow, as the others speak. She slips her weapon away, and lefts her hands just slightly up in front of her. "Alright then, we need a bit more information here. Not sure what the rules of time travel are, beyond do not give away anything too much especially that can be bet on later, or else someone is going to end up with a big casino and Marty McFly's dad will be dead. Now. All of Frostbite is here and accounted for? No one is missing?"

Theron arches a brow when he hears the fall of a child and the innocent way it springs to announce its ok. He cant help but let out a light smirk before the Berserker puts his best serious face back on...

The Balam is still in his Chatro from, eyeing the strangers and considering carefully. His tail twitches when the child falls but he doesn't move.

Micah looks up at Isla, "Yeah, we're all here. You know us, following our friends blinding into danger. Guess you guys did too." Branton tilts his head and considers "The letter mentioned a gift in return for services rendered. I'm pretty sure we're here to close the loop and I don't think the letter has been sent yet."

Olivia moves to the child, moving around the edges of the people that have invaded their living room, letting Jase keep the guests occupied.

Jase screws up his face. "Letter? Feather? TIME Travel? What... " he was about to say NONSENSE, but looking at this motley group of people. "Who are you here to rescue again? I can assure you, everyone here was perfectly safe until you arrived."

When Iris starts patting him down, Jes swats at her hands a bit and grumbles, "You're gonna wrinkle my shirt!" before reaching into his pocket and handing over the note and the quill. "Fuck monkeys, Goop Mistress, /sorry/. I was kind of distracted making sure none of you got /shot/. And no, I wasn't going to shoot /either/ of them; /Jesus/. I didn't even take the safeties off. Clutch your pearls a little less tightly, Grandma." That last is directed toward the kvetching Frostbiters before he goes back to what he does best: drinking his beer and smoking his Nat Sherman.

After a moment, a small head peeks up over the back of the couch. It's the face of what appears to be a young girl, perhaps around the age of 6 or 7. She has dark brown hair and, as she quickly rushes to Olivia's side, is dressed in a long nightgown of the era. She grips Olivia's hip, but then almost seems to push Olivia back toward the excitement. She has big, dark brown eyes brightened with the sort of curiosity that only a child knows and a slightly up-turned little button nose. She smiles and, as she isn't aware of rank or hierarchy, announces proudly, "I'm Ryder!" It's then that the others find the bravery they need to come out from around their hiding corners, following in Ryder's wake. A pair of similar-looking children -a boy, and a girl- who may be twins slink gracefully down from the stairs holding hands and giggling behind their hands... An older girl of about 13 or 14 with spindly arms and legs steps up politely, holding her hands clasped in front of her and offers a grin to the strangers who have assembled here... And then, there's a tiny, rail-thin girl of rather obvious Asian descent walking steadily towards the group, with bright flashing eyes and her hand on a bear cub. Wait. A

"Great", Jase sighs, "You've woken the children."

"Sorry..." Theron replies kicking some dust to the side as he looks down, giving his pack an 'our bad' sort of look. "Maybe I can distract them when the adults talk...who wants to see a sword...ooo...""

Iris lacks her typical chaotic go-with-it flow and has nothing in particular to say, but she does not lack thumbs! And thumbs are used to hold things and also pass them, before getting back out of the way of the chaos of a bunch of strangers meeting in a strange place. She doesn't even whip out an introduction beyond, "Hi, yourself, I'm Iris." with a small smile and an apologetic look at their unexpected host.

The direbeast shrinks down a smidge, but even in his feline form he's still a fucknormous jaguar. He pads over towards the stairs and sits on his haunches looking up at the kids that are holding hands.

Isla flips her massive red curls back behind her shoulders, and waves to the children. "Aye, we dinnae meant to disturb any families, or cause a ruckus. Hard to know where we end up sometimes. Or I guess when. If we can just settle this and get the lot of us out of here? Make sure we handle our business and be on our way back."

Branton clears his throat and asks the adults "Are we still in Prospect? I get that we've jumped back around a century and a half but have we moved in space as well as time?"

Jase takes the letter and the feather when it is passed to him from Aaryn. He turns the feather in his hand back and forth and a curious expression crosses his face. He uses the feather as a marker to read along and gives lots of hmmm and huhs and whaaa?. He folds the letter back up and looks to Branton. "Yes, you are NEAR Prospect at least. It is the Year of our Lord 1881 and.... apparently... 11 years from now I write you this letter asking you to come here and 'help' us with something."

Yeah, Jes is /so/ not stepping into the part where they figure out the rules of time travel and do a bunch of plot exposition to figure out why they're even here. Nope nope NOPE. He just pulls the plastic rings from his wrist and sticks them and the crushed-up beer can into his flashy King Peacock pants and sucks down his premium tobacco quietly, moving to lounge casually shoulders-back agains the wall and chill until someone inevitably says something weird or dangerous enough that he has to talk them all out of another situation.

Imagine a museum housed inside of an original Victorian home. That is what is like to walk into Ravenscar for the first time. Stained glass doorways greet newcomers at the front door, as well as the entryways to the foyer, living and dining areas. High ceilings arch ever upwards beyond ornate lighting fixtures that would need a long pole, or someone who could fly to light the candles. Beyond the fixtures, shadows play along the ceilings, hiding who knows what in their darkness. The floors are covered with striking floor tiles which attract the eye with sometimes garish colors. A bay window has been added to nearly every room where possible and small stone fireplaces provide light and warmth when needed.

The furniture selection is a mixture of posh and practical, with lots of seating for either a large family or a fair number of guests.

Then there are the pretties and shinies and strange oddities. In every nook and cranny where they could be fit, shelves and mantles have been placed, with books and strange objects, weird masks, crystals, and occult paraphernalia. The living area is dominated by a large grandfather clock, around which climbs a wide staircase that leads to an upper floor.

... If only it were that simple. But, as many of us know, when children are involved, it's a tangled web. Pun possibly intended. As the Jaguar heads over to the pair of children holding hands, there's a distinct giggle and the twins look back and forth amongst one another, communicating silently in that way twins do. The pair of them appear to be of Native American descent. The girl grins a toothy grin and her brother laughs. He points at himself, "I'm River," he affirms before pointing at the girl, "and she's Frost." The girl fearlessly leans out to give the fucknormous cat a... Hug?

Miguel isn't the only one assaulted, either. The small girl of Asian descent removes her hand from her bear buddy's back and begins to make her way over to the pretty woman with red hair. She presses her index fingertip in her mouth, staring up at all that /red/ with wonder. She reaches Isla's side and grins up at her, missing a couple teeth, and waves.

As for brave Ryder? Of course it's the most brightly colored peacock (and clearly the grumpiest person) in the room that gets her attention. She wanders over to Jes and stares up at him, placing her hands on her hip and narrowing her eyes just a bit, "I like your shoes," she states, matter-of-factly.

Jase sighs and looks to Olivia, some form of silent, practiced parently conversation going on between them he says to the group, "While Olivia gets the children resettled, why don't you all have a seat while I find you some refreshments. We can do proper introductions and answer each other's questions. I think we are all in for a long night."

The Jaguar lets himself get hugged, and possibly climed on. Because that's what kittens do. They might only have two legs but still, that's how that works.

Iris settles down out of the way. She should probably help with kid wrangling but no. She's not the kind of Fury that gets kids.

Branton nods at the suggestion and settles in by Iris. He might be familiar with child wrangling but disrupting the routine even more he figures won't help.

Isla smiles down at the small child. "Hey." She then finds a place to sit and gets settled as the children get taken care of.

Jes finishes his long drag on his cigarette, blowing two smoke rings up and away from the bold Ryder. "Do you? Me too," he replies in a not-unfriendly manner, kicking one heel out to set his spur spinning with a slight jangle. "I always wanted spurs on my shoes, so I went looking for a pair."

       Oh, but the kids are being resettled; well then. Jes smirks a bit, reaching into one of the pockets of those peacock-eye pants of his, and pulls out a little roll of mint Mentos, holding a finger up to his lips in confidence before passing the half-roll of candy to Ryder and letting her be shuffled out. He keeps his spot against the wall, where he's able to see everyone juuuuuuust fine, thanks.

After the silent parental communication, Olivia nods and immediately bends to try and wrestle the cub into her arms, though he's, quite literally, a bear about it. Especially since he's hungry. After the cub is as settles as he can be in Olivia's arms, she touches the older girl, whom she calls "Evie", on the elbow and nods to her to get some help. The two move to quickly start gathering the children up regardless of young protests and "but I'm not sleepy"'s. As Olivia ducks in to tug children away from Garou, both she and Evie offer apologetic smiles, the wolves' rage setting Olivia's nerves a jitter. However, Evie's dark, unblinking eyes also take in the oddities of their new guests with just as much curiosity as the children.

Once the children are gone and refreshments are served - bicuits and tea, with some whiskey on the side for those that need something a little stronger than caffeine - everyone would get down to the business of proper introductions. For the sake of TIME (haha) all the players get themselves introduced. Their host introduces himself as Ales (not Volacris) Jase "Feather Picks the Lock" Skarne of the Corax and Olivia as his wife and Corax kinfolk. The children, he explains, are orphans of the Second War of Rage, now going on for several decades. He and his wife have rescued them over time from falling into the wrong hands, or when no other members of their tribes or people could be found. Each has been indentified as either kin, or as ones who will eventually rage.