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

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  • #76
    Aliza sipped her coffee and people-watched. She used to do this all the time before the Change, her only other company a textbook or her laptop while she studied or wrote a report. This was how she had made the weekends productive - by working in the nicest circumstances she could manage.

    Her back to the brickwork, her eyes scanned the ever-meandering Herd. This was a good neighborhood, and a good little cafe. She liked this place a whole damn lot. ...and it would be a good place to plan. From here they could regroup, and head to the Hisil. They all knew what they had in mind for today. This was graduation day. She was going to drag them into the darkness, and when they came out, they wouldn't just be a bunch of know-nothing newbies - they would be one step closer to Pack.

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    • #77
      There were enough bicyclists pedaling around the Sleepy Tree Cafe that Violet didn't stand out. Not that she stood out in the heart of the city either, couriers were part of the background scenery there, something to be ignored and avoided. A very slight twinge of guilt danced around the back of her head, she only attended three semesters before dropping out, but she had a job, was making money and did the world really need another undeclared undergrad?

      "Hey, boss," she chirps after chaining her bike to a tree and finding Aliza.

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      • #78
        There were too many bicyclists pedaling around the Sleepy Tree Cafe. Just like there were too many students with their eyes on their smartphones. Too many people in general who had somewhere to be - and quickly. Indiana dodged the incoming foot traffic as she made her to the cafe, the smell of coffee stinging her nostrils as she opened the doors. It was all too much.

        Indiana had spent most her night trying to determine suitable territory for the pack, and had only managed to sneak a couple hours of sleep in an alley off 18th Street before meeting time. She hadn't found anything of interest, though 18th Street had seemed promising. The neighbourhood was one of the older ones in the city, and she greatly preferred the aging brick and mortar of its buildings to the slick steel and glass of the surrounding Lake Heights district. She'd found no trace of another pack in the area, which she'd guessed was because it was noticeably poorer than its surroundings - but its inhabitants were also hard working. Indiana had noticed that the people on 18th Street were dressed for work long before the surrounding neighbourhoods had even begun stirring. And while the 18th was no longer the main thoroughfare of Victory City, it still connected three major districts and was a valuable resource for that reason, if no other. It was normally a quick run from 18th Street to the little cafe, but with all the people in her way, she had just ended up walking most the way there.

        Indiana sighed with relief as she spotted her pack members. She felt late, which was bad enough, but at least she wasn't last. She could count on Joseph for that. She took a quick sniff of her coat - it smelled fine - then waved as she walked up to take a spot beside Aliza. "Sorry I'm late..." she grumbled as she ran her fingers violently through her hair to see if anything shook loose. "...too many people everywhere."
        Last edited by Amravanti; 07-08-2015, 01:45 PM.

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        • #79
          Violet and Indiana were both favored with a nod and the soft scooch of a metal chair as Aliza made room for them at the table in turn. The ex-librarian considered Indy's words with a sad smile. "I keep trying to think of them as water moving through pipes. Background noise, you know? Thinking of them as ...prey... is still hard. So I try not to think about it."

          Then again, 'Respect the Prey' was one of the parts of the Oath, wasn't it? It might be 'hard' to think of them like that, but it wasn't demeaning. It was what they were. Not ants which they strode amongst like giants, but cattle which could stampede and tear them to shreds.

          Maybe.

          "When Joseph gets here we'll take a quick jaunt. There's a weak locus not too far away. And then we'll have our tour. I haven't seen any territory markers. Haven't smelt any, either. Get something to eat, if you want - its a beautiful day, girls. No reason not to enjoy it."

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          • #80
            "I haven't seen any markers either. Seems like there's a whole lot of space unclaimed around Victory." Indiana took the seat across from Aliza and dropped herself into it. She rested her head on the table and looked through the glass to the inside of the cafe - she was thinking about what Aliza had said. Indiana had never had trouble thinking of them as prey. She let her eyes rest briefly on each occupant of the little cafe before jumping to the next one. Finally her gaze fell on a balding middle aged man in a brown suit two sizes too small. He had raised a cup to his mouth but couldn't decide if the time had come to drink it yet. She smiled to herself. Through the glass they looked almost like zoo animals.

            "Well, it's a process of elimination, isn't it." She said, simply. Her eyes were still on the man when he finally sipped his still-too-hot drink and then recoiled in shock as it scalded his lips and stained his greying moustache. She raised her hand and pointed at him, her finger tapping the glass with a loud thunk. "I mean, he isn't any kind of predator I've ever seen." The man's face was a portrait of pain, his lips curled in retreat of his face as he spilled his drink on the floor in panic.

            "Neither is she." Indiana's finger had moved to the redheaded girl sitting at the table across from him, she was fast asleep, muttering inaudibly to herself and drooling heavily onto her banged up Macbook.

            She pointed lastly to a harried looking young man in glasses as he awkwardly bumped into every customer in the store on his way to the exit. "And neither is that guy. He's never hunted a thing in his life I can promise you."

            She put her hand back down and looked at Aliza. "And if he's no predator, then he can't be anything else but prey." The young man was now struggling to pull a door that was clearly marked 'Push'. Indiana nodded slightly to herself, satisfied with her conclusion.
            Last edited by Amravanti; 07-10-2015, 02:32 PM.

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            • #81
              Late, not a very wise decision on his part. Joseph took in the scent of the roasted coffee as he caught up to the gathered pack. His time with his mentor had caused him to enjoy the peculiar smell, as she had always drank it black. Personally he couldn't stand the taste, and what the coffee shop was brewing was no where near the obsessive quality she would order for herself. He cleared his mind of memories as he finally caught up and joined the rest in looking through the glass. What the Herd would say if they could see what was all around them. He still had a hard time figuring it, despite having been a part of it not that long ago.

              "Do we know where we're headed first?"

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              • #82
                Aliza shared a look of amusement with Indiana. She had a point. The supremely unaware, uncoordinated, masters of their Universe.

                She raises her hand in greeting as Joseph approaches, and begins making motions to leave. "To a nearby locus. We've got to start looking for places to settle down, and the best parts of the city have already been taken." Aliza stands, a confident glint in her eye. "So whatever we find, expect it to be a bit of a fixer-upper. There is plenty of unclaimed city, but that doesn't mean it is viable. Victory's growing in all sorts of different directions, y'know?"

                Their trip will be into the heart of the neighborhood. It isn't where Aliza grew up, but it is nearby, and familiar for her, even before her mid-masters study breaks around here. The young Wolf smells, and hears, and if she lets her vision go just right, has no doubt she can see right over the gauntlet into the hazy summer of the Hisil.
                Last edited by Barbrarilen; 08-27-2015, 07:33 AM.

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                • #83
                  - Scene End -

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                  • #84
                    - Begin Scene -

                    The pale gloomy skies of Victory City thickened as the Pack left the cafe and headed deeper into the Oaksway Residential Area. Passers by on the street pulled up their hoods and got ready their umbrellas as the chance of rain began to rise.

                    After a few choice side streets and luck with several of the cross lights the Pack reached where the gentrification of Oaksway ended and the more older urban neighborhoods began. Shops like the cafe became less common as buildings that stood since the city's founding began to dominate the landscape. And about right when the noon sun hung overhead, occluded by the gloomy sky but still present as a dull sphere, they arrived at the Oaksway Gardens.

                    Aliza remembered how her parents used to tell her about when her grandparents took them to the park as children and lamented at how time had robbed the children of Oaksway a historical place to frolic and play as the park became more and more synonymous with drug culture. However, as the Pack drew near the sound of laughter could be heard and the Wolves of Victory saw before them children with their parent enjoying the park without a care in the world. The children and parents clearly appeared to be below the middle class margin but their presence have question to Aliza's parents beliefs as the line between rumors and truth blurred.

                    As the Pack approached the official entrance they noticed a relatively new bulletin placed on a sign encouraging the residents to support a group called "Parents for Oaksway Gardens." Upon looking around further many more bulletins could be found around the park, and some of them bore blatant graffiti while others were in tatters as they had been violently removed by unknown hands.

                    Their presence didn't go unnoticed either, some parents slowly gathered up their children and either left the park or went further away from the Pack. Children curiously looked at the group as their parents led them by the hand away from the Pack with hidden but suspicious looks upon their faces. Perhaps the rumors proved more true after all.

                    (Feel free to add more of you'd like Barbrarilen. )
                    Last edited by Dusksage; 08-31-2015, 05:08 AM. Reason: Spellcheck

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                    • #85
                      Aliza moved with slow confidence. Being on the offensive felt good. They had the brief, vague blessings of the elders and Alphas of Victory, and nothing else but ambition. As the parents pulled their children away, it almost revealed a path. The red carpet being rolled out for them. Aliza was unconcerned, made no effort to look more or less than she was: like a lion on approach to the watering hole, she didn't particularly care if the gazelle ran or not. She was here for something they couldn't provide.

                      "Parents for Oaksway Gardens," Aliza read out loud as she pulled one of the many fliers off a post, where they were stacked and waiting for intrepid viewers like herself. The logos of two local public schools, a private school, a few places of worship, and a civic association sat under the title, smashed together by someone with a rudimentary understanding of Microsoft Paint but no appreciation for aesthetics. "A community-driven effort, for Oakswood, by Oakswood, to bring our children together and to revitalize our community through positive and enthusiastic interaction. We appreciate donations of time, money, and effort - come to the next Oakswood Civic Meeting to participate and be heard!"

                      Aliza gave a bemused 'hm' and politely deposited her flyer in a nearby recycle can. She let her eyes slip between the spaces in the world as she headed towards the old bandshell on the opposite end of the park, and peered into the Hisil.

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                      • #86
                        Beyond the Gauntlet lay quite a sight to behold.

                        The Oaksway Gardens in the Hisil was urban meadow. Children's playground equipment lay in a field of poppies, the trees of the park were old and carved with both graffiti and words in First Speech. Butterflies made of children's innocence fluttered excitedly along as they drank from the poppies of blissful ignorance.

                        Stranger things lurked in the park as well, near the now overgrown bandshell lounged bloated spider-like spirits who all bore the faces of humans. There eyes were milky pink and they all took turn smoking from a communal hooka pipe that, upon further examination, turned out to be a giant vine like spirit made of long intertwining hooka pipes connected to a large bulb like flower. Some of the butterflies would flutter over to the bandshell and partake in the pipe spirits essence, those that did slowly transformed into tiny spiders with the faces of young teenagers.

                        Movement in the distance caught Aliza'a eye, a great crowd of people began to advance towards the bandshell. They all look like regular middle class humans, but instead of heads they all had copies of the Parents for Oaksway Gardens pamphlet where all of the school logos had fused together to form a single unblinking eye. As the crowd advance to the playground many of then tried to scoop up the butterflies but they would always fly through their fingers, still ignorant to the mobs very presence, and as the mob reached the edge of the playground the pipe vines would stir to like and attack.

                        Before a battle could begin both forces appear to startle and disperse back from whence they came as a freak old dog bounds into sight. It's fur it matted with mud and's face is old in age but it still passionately barks at both greater spirits. As it does so many of the butterflies excitedly gather around the old dog and settle upon it's fur. It seems to enjoy this and settles down near the spirit climby bar, right before the part transitions into the bandshell, and begins to nap.

                        As the sight withdraws Aliza is looking at a old and time worn doghouse that bears a memorial plaque upon it. The plague reads that it's in memory of a stray dog named Ole Goldy that made it's home in the park for eighteen years.
                        Last edited by Dusksage; 09-10-2015, 04:46 PM. Reason: Editing

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                        • #87
                          Aliza smiles, despite herself. The dance of spirits here is in a way futile - time wins all wars, children grow up, innocence fades - but it doesn't have to be so quick, nor so absolute. She rests her hand on the rough wood on either side of the plaque and exhales.

                          A lot of people with good intentions fighting against a lot of things too big to handle. Parents' fear on one side, a heady cocktail of poverty, doubt, and desperation on the other. Both sides clannish, putting themselves in opposition to the other.

                          This place was rich in conflict, in the ebb and flow of a city, breathing and growing. This place was a challenge. If Aliza could call it her own? Maybe she'd do some good here. For everyone that called it home. She patted the side of the doghouse. Everyone.

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