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IC The Wolves of Victory: Dusksage's PbP Werewolf the Forsaken 2E Chronicle

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  • #31
    "Good to meet you, Hank," okay, this was not what she had expected.

    A grudging welcome? Sure.

    Outright hostility? Probably.

    But this sort of stoic indifference? This was new. It was new, but it wasn't unknown. He may not be behind a desk or wearing a uniform, but Hank here was still just office security. Talking her way past him might be a bit more difficult than a rent-a-cop, but it was the same idea. This was totally something she could do.

    Violet let herself chuckle and gave a sort of amused shrug as she put the sandwich back into her backpack. "Yeah, we kind of figured you'd want to be alone but the thing is... and listen, I'm new to this whole thing, none of our gang has more than a few years at this, but it seems that what happened to you guys is kind of serious. Like, you're Behemoth. You guys are hardcore, we've all heard the stories. So if something came strolling through Victory that was strong enough or sneaky enough or whatever to take out one of you, we think that the People should know about it."

    Another shrug, Vi does her best to look embarrassed, "Plus, it seems that a lot of us are big into that kind of toxic 'fuck you, I'm the toughest' line of thinking. If one of the other packs come, and they will, it'll probably just end up as some bullshit fight while whatever attacked your pack either does it again or gets away. With our crew? We're tough, don't get me wrong, but no one is singing songs about us yet. We're not going to try to take over some of your territory or anything like that. All we want is a chance to prove ourselves. Not only are you doing us a favor, but you can take your time mourning a hero without worrying about the escaping justice. And when some other, more established pack comes sniffing around, you can tell them that things are being dealt with properly.

    "What do say, Hank? Can't hurt anything to meet the rest of the pack and hear us out. Worst case scenario, you guys get the first read on the newest pack in town."


    • #32
      The man's eyes fall into a glare as Violet talks. Things appear to be going poorly until a crack appears in the man's facade. When this happens his mouth quickly cracks into a large grin, and he can't contain the laughter that Violet realizes had been building since he first started talking. (Tutorial: NPC's can be sized up with dice rolls to guess at their true emotions and intentions. To keep immersion I will not let the group know when this is happening so it falls upon their own initiative to roll to check.)

      "Ok ok, damn you really are with the new Pack aren't you?"

      Hank will then gesture for Violet to come across the street. "No one who's established a Territory in this City is self aware enough to admit something like that." Violet then can barely hear him chuck and say the words "fuck you, I'm the toughest...oh that's so true it hurts."
      Last edited by Dusksage; 04-24-2015, 01:04 AM. Reason: Spell Check


      • #33
        Violet relaxes once Hank starts to laugh. Make 'em laugh and you're in. It didn't hurt that he actually seemed like a good guy.

        "Aces," Violet grins. Some burgeoning instinct makes her look behind her as she picks up her bikes and wheels it across the street with Hank.

        "Oh, hey, speak of the devil. Devils. I think that's them."


        • #34
          "And that's when I realized it wasn't a dream. I was actually seeing--" Aliza stopped mid-sentence. "---Violet." she grinned wolfishly, her little story interrupted by a pleasant reality if ever there was one - her new packmate, relaxed and comfortable, chatting with what could only be a member of Behemoth. The librarian raises her hand in a lazy greeting as they cross the block, and assemble with their scout.

          "Well met. I'm Aliza Carter." she said with a confident, polite smile. "These are Akule, Joseph, and Indiana, and you've met Violet - we hope we can be of help."


          • #35
            Hank grins as he sees Violet's Packmates approaching. When Aliza finishes speaking he'll incline his head in a welcoming gesture.

            "Sup, you guys sure have balls for trying to play peacemaker now. Hope you realize what you're getting yourself into." Says Hank as the rest of the group reach the entrance to the Wild Rose. "Wanting to prove yourself as a pack is fine, hell we've all been there once right? Might forget for a while until...well..." Hank pauses. He looks like he's choosing his words very carefully. "Until you run into something that reminds you that we're all just pups in the eyes of the world at large."


            • #36
              Indiana gives a quick nod as she is introduced, but her mind is elsewhere. She had become invested in Aliza's story, and the interruption was unwelcome. What was Aliza really seeing? What happened to the talking lizard? Did the Butler ever find his bride? She knows those answers will have to wait, there are more pressing questions to be asked.

              She collects herself. It is a bit strange being in another pack's territory. Though she had freely passed through this part of town before her first change, now it all seemed alien and unwelcoming, even if Hank himself was not. His pack could use their help, that much she knew. And he didn't seem to be turning it away. She wasn't one for small talk, so she jumped right in.

              "Well, we want to help, but we don't really know where to start. What we heard doesn't seem to make a lot of sense." She says, scratching her head. She tries to recall the snippets of conversation she picked up as they had approached Hank and Violet. "Did I hear you guys talking about devils?"
              Last edited by Amravanti; 04-29-2015, 02:34 AM.


              • #37
                "Ha!" Laughs Hank as he turns his attention to Indiana, "Whatever stole our Boss wasn't anything I've ever seen before. And I've seen devils before. Motherfuckers just love to tempt people to the crossroads, and this city's got a lot of those."

                Hank gives the entire Pack another look over, his eyes soaking up the sight before him. Then he continues, "No, we have no god damn idea what did that to us and those blueblood bastards. Our Ithaeur confirmed what we all felt as that...fog rolled over the battleground. It aint of the Shadow or the Earth. But don't take my word for it..." Hank trails off as he holds the door open for the Pack. A wolfish grin is upon his face.

                The Wild Rose Roadhouse is open to you all now. Do what thou will.


                • #38
                  Now that the others are here, Violet stays silent and drops to the rear. Her bike, she leaves leaning aginst the wall of the roadhouse, naturally assuming that it'd be safe there.

                  "Oh sure," she mutters, "now there are actual devils too. Werewolves and spirits and vampires weren't enough."

                  This was a crazy, crazy world.


                  • #39
                    - Scene End -


                    • #40
                      - Begin Scene -

                      The Wild Rose Roadhouse was quiet when the Pack entered, except for a low volume classic rock song playing in the background. The source of the music was an old jute box next to a hallway entrance in the back of the roadhouse. Above the jute box was a wooden sign with an arrow pointing to the hallway with the words Restroooms written in bold white letters. Before the jute box lay several pool tables, to their left was a bar with over a dozen barstools and to the right of the tables were booths that wound around each other to that large groups could sit at one and still look at their fellows. Before the tables stood you all, at the entrance of the roadhouse, and Hank the Behemoth Uratha who shouted to the people in the roadhouse, "They're good. No need to bring out the guns."

                      Even the Behemoth Pack thought that was a bad joke, as the three people in the roadhouse just glared at their fellow. Two stood near the jute box at the back of the place while the other stood cleaning the bar counter. Very quickly their attention turns to the new visitors.

                      The scene is yours...
                      Last edited by Dusksage; 04-29-2015, 08:33 PM.


                      • #41
                        Indiana walks slowly toward the bartender, her eyes focused steadily on the hallway leading to the restroom. She can hear the running of water, and she doesn't plan on being surprised by anyone. She sits on a stool by the bar, and nods politely to the bartender.

                        "I hope we aren't intruding." She says, her eyes still directed away from the bartender, toward the hallway. Waiting. Her senses peeled, for any movement from the two by the jukebox.

                        The vibe in the room was very different from the vibe Hank had been giving off. She sensed irritation and nervousness from the two by the jukebox, and the bartender seemed distant. On edge and unsure of how to proceed, Indiana looks back at her pack briefly, she notices the bag of meat still in Violet's hands, and sighs to herself. "We are here to help," she says, finally meeting the bartender's eyes. "If we can."

                        If things were going to turn hostile, better to find out quickly before anyone else was surrounded. Counting the one in the bathroom, they were evenly matched in numbers. Still, this was Behemoth territory. They would have the advantage. She only hoped Aliza knew what she was doing.


                        • #42
                          ((ST: burning one dot of essence to activate Voice of Glory - adds her Glory Renown (2) to her all dice pools for Expression and Persuasion. If using this Gift when meeting someone for the first time, the Cahalith automatically improves her first impression (p. 164) by one step. If she is attempting to inspire or incite violence and aggression, increase her impression by another step))

                          Plans were for people with the luxury of control. Being in another's territory, led only by a few fitful dreams, with a few potential hangers-on which might become a proper pack? Yeah. Plans were not in the budget for Aliza. At best, she had ...guidelines.

                          That was to say, Luna shone within her, and her new pack needed allies - and someone to break the ice. She could do that. She had to.

                          "Sorry about your breakfast, Indy." The librarian smiled sheepishly at the girl as she walked over to Hank and made a little show of turning her body just enough to expose her flank, so to speak, to one of the jukeboxers. Trust had to be established and trust required sacrifice. Her eyes danced constantly, muscles semi-rigid as the wolf within coiled, ready to turn on any coward who would dare to attack.

                          There were only so many things to say, having just met him, though. And so many minefields to avoid. "Yeah. We would appreciate not getting shot-at, thanks." A decidedly lighthearted tease. Unfortunately the Wolf had no sense of humor, so Aliza gave in and turned back to face the other Behemoth to appease her. "Hey, all. I'm Aliza." The silence felt... No. It wouldn't do to stop there. She smiled broadly at the pair keeping their distance. "I like long walks on the beach, steak tartar, and I am highly allergic to bullets. And like Indiana said, we would love to help. Vee Cee has enough problems as it is."


                          • #43
                            Of everything that had change within her over these past few months, the one that impresse Violet the most, putting aside the ability to transform into a nine foot tall wolfperson, was the scents. Even from outside the bar, the sharp tang of alcohol made her nose twitch. Inside, she could smell the cheap, stale beer, the sharp sting of high proof moonshine amd, unerneath it all, blood. Some of it relativly fresh. She could smell the other uratha too, their wariness and suspicion. Gun oil and cold steel.

                            Once again she holds out the sandwich, placing it on the bar in offering. "But we brought food! Um... you'll have to share, though."


                            • #44
                              Joseph watched, the usual spirits of violence, energy, and revelry listless in the onslaught of rage and grief from the Behemoths. The others broke their silence, and Joseph realized that there was a very real chance his fears could come true. The Behemoths were still unsure how to feel about them, about their approach during this time. The two from the jukebox looked ready to jump on them at a moments notice and it took concentrated effort for him to stay relaxed. His shoulders wanted to bunch as legs got ready to spring... No, they had intruded, any reaction the Behemoth's had was earned. He watched as the spirits of grief followed their ban's and had to resist doing the same. No doubt it would show respect to the fallen alpha, as Joseph was sure that was where these spirit infants had gotten the influence from, but they needed to see the Behemoth's initial response before he would be smashing the top of a bottle on the bar to open it and taking a drink from the sharp neck. Pain, remembrance, respect, mixed with the bittersweet joy of the drink itself. Joseph had to admit if that was what the Behemoth's were doing it was a good ritual.

                              "If there is any information we can find or provide on this thing we will gladly share, though I admit all we know thus far are rumors".

                              He didn't want to push any farther, Joseph would never shrink from a question, but to simply ask it of the Behemoth's meant they had accepted their presence. Something that was not yet clear.


                              • #45
                                The bartender, a middle aged woman with light brown skin and black hair, smiles softly at Aliza's candidness. She turns to the two by the jute box, a blond haired lady and black haired man who's skin is marred by dirt and oil stains, and says, "Hank would not have let them in if he deemed them a threat. Welcome to the Wild Rose young wolves."

                                She then turns to each of the Pack in turn, here eyes give away her nature. She's one of you. Uratha. And then here eyes fall upon Joseph.

                                "If you want to help provide information than answer this: When is fear not fear?"

                                The lady by the jute box rolls her eyes but her companion loosens up his stance a bit. The sound of a toilet flushing cuts through the ambient classic rock of the roadhouse. All turn to face it's source, the hallway leading to the restroom, except Indiana (who knew it was coming with his keen senses), Joseph and the bartender. Their eyes tell a story reflected by a mutual duty and burden as children of the Moon and Wolf. One that reaches into both the physical and shadow, illuminated by the crescent moon. (No roll needed, Joseph automatically recognizes the Ithaeur look in her eyes.)