It's very late or very early when the word goes out through the Accord and the network of contacts therein: There's trouble at the McCormick Place Bird Sanctuary. Or near it? The message is not clear, but the location is block or two, right on the water, just a bit north of the 31st Street Harbor. The word is 'zombie?' with an awful lot of hesitancy involved in the 'what is going on?' end of the message.
There's not much moon to provide light, just a sliver of waxing crescent overhead that is utterly obscured by storm clouds and heavy rain that waffles between 'ugh, rain' and 'rats making rafts in the gutters'.
John shows up with company. They roll up to the Sanctuary in a smart little car of some sort, and the young lawyer is out almost before it has stopped. He's dressed for the rain in jeans, a slick jacket, and a watch cap. "You'll recognize it, once you see it moving," he says again to his companions, as he scans the area. "It doesn't move like a living thing.
It's not too far from home but it's raining hard enough (at least occasionally) that Loreley is beginning to wonder if she can actually feel air for all the water around her. Still, zombie...birds? Maybe? The word had come through from a bird sanctuary but she couldn't quite see how that would work if the goop - what else was a zombie going to be at the moment? - went inert when it was separated from the bulk. She hunched deeper into the hood of the cheap rain poncho that had probably been dumped after a family day at the water park.
Raven exits the vehicle and nods to John, "Alright, some rickety little shit, or can is take a human as well?" She puts her hands into her hoddies pockets as she looks around the area. This should be interesting, a week new to the city and now zombies, great. She looks to Nick, "Have you ran into one yet?"
"Oh I would hope not. After what you have told me John, I would hate to be disappointed" Nick steps out of the car into the rain and just smiles as he looks towards the sky and takes a deep breath. "I mean in fairness this could not have chosen a better night to happen. Simply fantastic I tell you."
Turning his gaze towards Raven before slipping his hands into his jacket he says, "No, not as such. I have simply been informed by John and a few others a little bit of the information. Should we manage it, I would like to try and gather some of its inert form for a few tests if possible. So let us try not to completely destroy it, yes?"
The z-word is enough to get Leon's attention, as he pulls up on a stripped-down crotch rocket. Almost invisible in the dark and stormy setting save for the little headlight that clicks off with the whine of the engine. The storm doesn't bother him at all, even helmetless. Dressed out in an unzipped leather jacket and cargo pants, completely soaked. A hand brushes the water off his face, and he remains straddled, taking in the brief sight of those who are arriving.
Another vehicle pulls into an empty parking spot nearby, lights dying as Rachel switches off the ignition. She pulls the hood of a sturdy-looking jacket over her head, and exits her Camry, heavy boots protecting her feet from the rain. Of course she's ready for the weather, she's from the Pacific Northwest, rain doesn't bother her. Being woken up at 3am bothers her a little, but this seems like a worthy cause. Now how to get into a bird sanctuary that's probably closed at this time of night? Rachel ponders while she scans the area, noting several other people have shown up too. Fellow Accordians? Maybe they should find some cover from the rain and meet up to organize.
After seeing a zombie movie on the moving-picture-box, Beatrice had to find out if they were real for herself. That and the bird sanctuary had lured her out of her briar patch. She just wishes the rain would stop, it was starting to remind her of living in an underwater palace.
With the intermittent rain she has on a long, warm coat and carries an umbrella just incase it starts up again. Her tall, button up boots click against the sidewalk as she makes her way up to the sanctuary. Given the possibility of zombies she'd decided to have the taxi drop her off a block away and walk the rest of it.
"By the water," John calls out to the two he came with, and points as he sets off toward it at a trot. He calls out to the other people he sees, "Something down by the wather, sounds dangerous." Then, a moment later, "Looks... Big. What in the..." Still, he picks up speed as he goes, running toward the thing.
Raven is busy looking about when she catches sight of something big moving around in the distance. She begins to move forward and say something as John calls out the same, she takes off after him, trying to keep pace and her eyes peeled for anything else. "Well that didn't take long," She says to Nick when she takes off.
As she looks out through the darkness, Rachel sees something that brings a smile to her lips, white teeth flashing in the darkness, a cutting edge on the twist of her lips. She's fully intending on a careful approach, but then she hears John's voice crying out, and off he goes running straight at what she'd seen. What she'd heard. She sighs, then stretches her neck from side to side, walking sedately in the same direction while she reminds herself of what was, what could be again, and how to claim that power for herself.
Lore has spotted whatever it is as well, not to mention the ungodly screeching. She recognises the voice and a smile flashes across her face despite the situation. She moves quickly and quietly, barely making a sound over the rough lake shore. "More goop?" The question hangs on the night air, open for anyone who wants to answer it.
Turning his attention towards the water, Nick squints slightly as John speaks "Is it? I can hear something, yes but..." as John and Raven begin to move, Nick takes off right after and a grin lights up his face at Raven, "No sense of dramatic timing. The disappointment wars with my excitement to see this stuff in action...as I said, fantastic! Remember you two, we want a piece of it left!" Laughing to himself, the night is going to be interesting.
"Well, ain't this a merry band," half-grumbled in that tone of 'I just woke up'. As he dismounts, Leon extracts a several-foot-long wooden handle from a tube fixed to the bike, the end in hand obscured by a black canvas sheath. The concealed weapon leaves little to the imagination, but, an appropriate implement for an alleged zombie situation. Slinging it over his shoulder, his head tilts towards the water at the noise, but, seeing John and the others take off, he has some catching up to do, breaking into a sprint and bringing up the rear.
That screech causes Beatrice's ears to perk up, the ones that only Rachel and those like her would be able to see, and turn in the direction of the noise. Not wanting to risk getting the thing's attention, she seeks the nearest patch of shadows along the wall of a building and uses those to try and get closer for a better look at whatever did this. Spying Rachel a ways off is somewhat comforting, and she tries to slip over closer to her fellow Changeling without drawing too much attention to herself.
As people move closer, it becomes clear how not-right what's happening is.
Black, tarry slime has entangled a large group of roosting birds and pulled them from their rest. Some are still fighting the sticky stuff, but it is slowly, surely filling their beaks and throats until there's a sudden silence. The mound of ooze seems to grow - a bit taller than a man in height and half a car in width. As if it senses movement, dozens of eyes surge out of the mass on snail-like stalks, lidless nd unblinking - human, rodent, bird, canine and feline. Different shapes and sizes.
"Oh...Oh shit!" Lorel pulls up short and stares at the...blob. It takes a lot to stun the Changeling, even more when it is something weird and probably supernatural, but this... And the eyes...Things bits of things it has used or devoured maybe. It attacked the birds, maybe the kitten, those rats hadn't been dead to begin with. It turns out that there is plenty of air around for her after all, even if the rain makes it feel more like a shower. She reaches for the element and uses it to scoop a handful of lakeside mud, flinging it towards the creature. It's not intended to hit anything, just a trick, a tiny dust devil for a Loophole in the Contract someone had made with the elements long ago...
John pulls up just short of the thing, beginning to circle it, watching its reaction. "We'll hit it in waves," he suggests, "In case it can do that to one of us. I'll go in first, and if it takes hold of me," he glances back to Nick, "You tell that story to the Blue Moon pack. Whatever else happens here, you tell the story." There's a tension in him, and it does not lessen as he sees help approach.
"Rachel?" His brow furrows, "Loreley? It's me, John. They're with me," he wayves toward Nick and Raven. "Any ideas?" As he asks, his face contorts briefly. There is a crackling, stretching sound as he gains height, his shoulders broaden, his features shift into something still nearly human, but somehow feral.
Raven nears the source of the noise, as she gets closer and slows for a bit. Taking in the grotesque form she gives a what the fuck look before snapping out of it for a second. She looks to John and says, "Might as well hit it hard together. Make a better song maybe." She looks back to the creature and shifts her own form to match John's.
Oh NOW he wants ides. Rachel shakes her head again as she approaches the trio of werewolves. (Presuming the other two are werewolves. Rachel recognizes one from the Allthing, but doesn't know the other.) "Sure. Just give me a minute, I have some prep work to do," she stretches almost lazily for a moment as she continues to dream her shoggoth-dream to potency. "One thing we know; it uses slime like nerves. Cut the slime trails, and the distal pieces go inert."
Feels sick, and covers her mouth when she sees the ooze monster. 'Control my breathing, be a quiet bunny,' Beatrice thinks to herself. She decides to hang back in the shadows and watch, rather than risk getting in the... now that was also unsettling; she blinks a couple times at Rachel's transformation. While she observes, she tries to recall if this thing resembles something she may have heard about on the other side of the hedge while listening in on her betters' conversations or read about in one of their books.
The dust devil grows, dropping the mud and flowing around Loreley. The rain poncho flares and lifts off over her head. Eventually it wraps around her and settles in her hands, a bar of shimmering cloud forming a short bow and shards of wind flitting around the fingers of the other hand like arrows. Her hair lifts, blue static crackling around it and her eyes take on the shade of a storm cloud. When she opens her mouth it is the sound of a howling gale that emerges as she strides closer to the ooze thing to get a better aim.
Bringing up the rear, Leon's already stripped the cover off his axe as he joins the others in the near-man form. His larger hand chokes up near the head of the weapon, the steel etched with a tapestry of runes and engravings. "That's the fucking spirit," he chimes in towards Raven with a grin. "Though," his eyes now falling onto the tarry mess of... whatever it is, "I don't know if touching it is..." turning his head towards Rachel. "Shit's safe to the touch then?"
Slowing as they approach the source of the noise, Nicks eyes zero in on the creature as his eyebrows arch "Do not worry, if nothing else this is a wonderful addition to the story. A monster of oil and muck against the ones who would stand against it? How could I resist something like that." Glancing at John and Raven he says, "Hit it hard and fast, do try to do your best not to get caught." With that, his form expands with sick snaps and cracks as his body bulks and broadens in areas, slipping into a new form.
The eyes cluster up, different groups seeming to focus on a different person that it sees - not appearing to register that Beatrice is there. Ears join the eyes, teeny little ratto ears, floppy and pointy dog and cat ears, a few human ears. Like the eyes, they sprout up on sticky eyestalks, though shorter, and turn this way and that - the way a horse might twitch ears towards sounds. From the center of the mass, some the ooze recedes, revealingthe eyeless face of a three or four dead homeless guy - raggedy bear, pockmarked cheeks, symptoms of a lot of drugs over a long time written on the features of the corpse. Almost delicately, tiny strands work the jaw and tongue, as if trying to figure out how to make the dead man tell tales. Clumsily puppeting.
It may be unclear when Aaron arrived or if he'd been trailing along the entire time. What is clear is when the creature makes itself known, the pale, tattooed man also is apparent to the rest of the group. This is the first time he's seen something like this, and he appears more curious than disgusted. Dressed in a simple black t-shirt that shows off his tattooed arms, jeans, and combat boots, he points toward the creature and then asks the group, "What... Is this something you see often?" Seemingly familiar with Beatrice, his gaze moves in her direction to see what she'll say.
You paged John with ‘This is what happens when an AI infests nanotech. It must've been in the bum, who was surely used for scientific experiments, cause fuck the World Health Organization and ethics.’
John's eyes widen with recognition at the sight of the face. "It's some kind of... Nanotech," he says, his voice a growl. He glances aside at Nick, then at Rachel, for confirmation. "They're experimenting on the homeless." His hands flex at his sides, clawed fingers twitching, and he begins to circle it again, moving to put himself between the AI-infested nanotech monstrosity and the water.
"It's what?" The word is entirely unfamiliar to Lore but she picks up the 'experimenting on the homeless' part easily enough and being technically so herself is not endeared to the thing. "Aside from getting faster, better at puppeting, better at...I think it's trying to figure out how to talk." Her voice isn't quite the howling wind anymore but it is still different to her usual dulcet, musical tones. "It's getting smoother too. More dangerous. John this is...I don't know what it is but more dangerous than when it was just rats and kittens." Her bow is drawn now, aimed directly at the face in the midst of all that writhing black goop for want of a more obvious target.
Raven Looks to John and shares the same question as Lore, "Nanowhat?" She looks back at the creature before moving near John and readies herself, at least she has a target now. "Whatever it is, is it something we can hurt? Either way I'm ready when you are." She looks around for a moment to all present before settling her gaze on Leon, "I guess we will find out."
"Your powers of observation are commendable" Nick growls out as he glances sidelong towards Lorely before turning back to John as he speaks and there is a single blink. "Nanotech?" It is a word of science fiction, but it could technically apply here. Nick turns his gaze back towards the ooze monster and gestures with his head, "If this thing is targeting humans now, then that is a problem. Do it."
Beatriceow that was even more disgusting... also, John's a werewolf? While revulsed by this abomination and wondering what in tarnation a "nano-whatever" is, she decides to linger. She does look around for any nearby doors for if this turns south, though.
Leon's face is one of disgust, a scowl worn. "Not exactly hithimu, but then, who could have imagined some techno-shit doing this back then? Close enough for me." Looking around to the other Dalu gathered, and looking back to Raven "What, don't wanna wait and see what sort of shit it spews from their mouths?" He gestures towards the creature with the head of his axe. "Let's do it before it realizes it's being stupid enough to sit there and wait for death." He steps forward, taking the axe in both hands.
She's not entirely sure whether the hulking man is being sarcastic or not, it is obviously different, larger, but the shift from jerky zombie movements to something more sinuous and... not human, definitely inhuman. Lorel hesitates, not sure whether she wants to hear what it has to say when it finally figures out how to operate tongue, teeth, and lips to produce sound...assuming it has the vocal apparatus to back it up. The bow fires, a slice of somehow solid air flying from it towards the face in the center of that thing. At least one shot before the wolves get in her sight line...
Beatrice moves closer to the door of the building she's been hiding against and examines its lock, incase she needs to open it to summon a hobgoblin.
Aaron looks to the group and doesn't get an answer to his question. Shrugging his shoulders he gets the vibe that violence is going down and with that in mind he calls on the power within his blood, shifting to fight. There is no noise as his face takes on a more feral cast, his fangs extending as his arms and legs seem to elongate slightly while thick claws grow from his fingers. Growling out in rage he rushes forward and slashes into the goo creature with his claws.
Breathing steady Loreley draws back the string that isn't really there and lets fly. Tales of elfshot abound in the stories of fae and as inspiration goes a sharpened shard of air puncturing the face in the midst of that black goo, its ears, eyes, stalks... Of course it also means she is just a fraction slow to move when it lunges at her with one of the birds it had been consuming when they arrived. She hisses in pain and flinches.
Loreley takes some lethal and is now lightly bleeding.
The dead guy in the clutches of the little blob that was trying? His head is skewered, the little tendrils unable to work the jaw in grotesque attempt to make the man be a voice for the monster. Claws dig deep, knocking black sludge and a few choking birds and half a dead cat out of the mass. The former flapping pathetically, trying to choke up the inert black stuff but too weak to get there on their own.
The thing retaliates, whipping birds about on oly tentacle-like 'vines', sharp beaks used like spear tips. It misses Aaron entirely, but one of the beaks manages to tear through Lore's clothes and leave a goodly furrow - the poor bird's neck breaking with the impact.
Rachel has been told she tends to leap before she looks, but Lore and the werewolves beat her to the punch this time. Still, the fight is on, and Rachel isn't going to sit and do nothing. Especially not with a fellow Freeholder being hurt. She steps in amidst the other up-close fighters, and reaches out to that squirming mass with her claws. But instead of cutting through the formless, it reaches out and smacks her away, and her claws lightly score a friend. John. "Shit!" Rachel yelps indignantly.
John yelps as he is clawed, dancing away from Rachel, wounded. Still, he charges forward, throwing caution to the wind. He darts in low, hands held close to the ground, and at the last second lunges toward a thin umbilicus that connects the creature to its source. There is a savage fury in this hulking hunter; he is John Butler, but also not. He is something more. He howls his hate as he tears into its corpus.
Raven slows her breathing for a moment as everyone goes in for the kill, she ignores all near her as she goes in with her claws at the creature. She gives a good hit as she lets out a well practiced AAAhhhh!!!
Blood splashes on the ooze moments before John's claws tear the calf-thick umbilicus apart. The main mass goes slack, then thick, severed tendril slapping around before it is snapped back, pulled back down a sewer drain far faster than it has been seen to retreat before.
The black stuff is more like syrup once the connection is severed and the grisly truth is displayed. Three humans -only the man with any flesh left, many birds, dozens of rats, dogs, cats... enough to create that big mound if thinly coated with the vile ichor.
"Someone get a sample before we lose it all!" Apparently Lore had priorities beyond just killing the thing, or as much as it could be killed for now. The wind surrounding her quieted a little but she wasn't willing to let go of it entirely until she was sure that thing wasn't about to reform.
Rachel watches the amorphous creature collapse into it's constituent parts, frowning slightly. Then she glances over at a nearby werewolf, "Shit,
Raven watches the Adonis specimen of John pretty much ignore the friendly fire as he finishes off the horrible ooze monster. She watches it dissolve and splash about before the stillness returns. She looks up at Rachel for a moment with concern before returning her gaze to John, "I think he will be fine. Little bit of rest after that ordeal." Blood Talons go hardcore. She looks to Lore, "Well there is plenty of it around, take your pick I guess."
Moving forward now that the thing has popped like acne on a teen, Nick begins to remove his coat and crouches down next to the ooze. "Nicely done, very nicely done. Still want me to tell your story to the Blue Moon?" Smirking, his attention moves to Rachel as he stares at her for a moment, before looking back down as he begins trying to scoop as much of the goop as he can into his coat to use as a bag of sorts. "In truth, if for no other reason, it was a wonderful strike my dear. I think it also assisted John to further heights of success. Perhaps we should keep you around as motivation for when he starts to fall behind, yes? Besides, things like that happen on the battlefield. A little team work and I think it would be an interesting move in combat" Nick grins then as he considers the ramifacations of that in his story.
There is a sickening sound of flesh and bone rearranging themselves, and soon John is himself again. Himself, but with a ragged wound down his forearm showing through his thoroughly ruined jacket. He looks at it, grimaces, and shakes his hand out. "I'm fine," he agrees, with a nod at Raven. "These things happen. You pack a hell of a punch," he tells Rachel, before turning a smirk on NIck. "I won't fall behind," he tells the Cahalith, shaking his head.
The somewhat aloof and tired-looking Leon's demeanor changes in a heartbeat, eyes widening as the claws begin to fly. Readying for battle, it takes him a moment to leverage his axe, but instead of charging, he cradles it as he resheathes the blade, his form shrinking back down to Hishu as he does so. "Oh come on, the little shit couldn't even put up a fight?" Smirking, he places the axe behind his head, elbows hooking over it in an overly-relaxed position. "Well, wasn't a total waste, good to see there's still some motivation in this shithole. Inspiring." A little teeth in that smirk towards Rachel now, "Or enthusiastic, at least."
Relaxing a touch, Lore opens her hands, letting the air she had corralled flow back into the natural currents around the lake. Bereft of her poncho and the wind whipping around her she looks mostly bedraggled but satisfied. A stern look in John's direction and she tears a strip off the bottom of her shirt. "Come here and let me clean that, I don't care if you get furry, it needs seeing to, especially in this environment."
Beatrice decides to emerge from the shadows, flipping her flowing white hair back when she does so. "So the poor lawyer is also a werewolf," She teases the newly reverted law wolf, "Oh and Rachel, it's so lovely to see you again. Did you win anything nice at the carnival?"
Rachel's attention goes from Raven, eyes flicking her up and down for a moment, to Nick, where they roll at his suggestion. She sighs, claws still present but retracting, bone and keratin moving over the backs of her fingers like half of a bizarre glove. She nods at John when he confirms he's alright, she gives Lore a concerned look before turning Beatrice as she calls out to her.
The reminder of the carnival stops her cold for a moment, and her claws thread forward a touch. Then she closes her eyes, shakes her head, opens them to look back out over the scene. "Nah, Bea. I lost. I lost bigtime." There's regret and anger in her voice. Though not directed at Bea.
Looking out over the piles of various parts, and Lore's efforts to scoop up samples, she puts her hands onher hips, "I hope the Accord has someone who cleans up messes like this."
The inert stuff has the texture of a blood clot, but looser. Like warm jell-o at a family reunion.
Raven asks aloud, "If this stuff is coming from the underground, I imagine we will face something much larger then." She lets out a sigh, oh boy. She then looks to Nick, "I think it would of been a fine song." She looks at him scooping into his coat. "Should be enough?" She then concentrates for a second and reverts to her human form with the snapping of bone and muscle.
The community is named for Stephen A. Douglas, an Illinois politician, whose estate included a tract of land given to the federal government. This tract later was developed for use as the Civil War Union training and prison camp, Camp Douglas, located in what is now the eastern portion of the Douglas neighborhood. Douglas gave that part of his estate at Cottage Grove and 35th to the Old University of Chicago.
This area contains the follow neighborhoods: Bronzeville, Prairie Shores and Groveland Park.
The community is named for Stephen A. Douglas, an Illinois politician, whose estate included a tract of land given to the federal government. This tract later was developed for use as the Civil War Union training and prison camp, Camp Douglas, located in what is now the eastern portion of the Douglas neighborhood. Douglas gave that part of his estate at Cottage Grove and 35th to the Old University of Chicago.
This area contains the follow neighborhoods: Bronzeville, Prairie Shores and Groveland Park.
"No" Nick says with a small chuckle as his body begins to shrink, reverting back into his human form "I do not expect you will." Reaching his hand into the inert goop, he simply smiles and says in a soft rumble of a purr "Oh yes, this will be very interesting, I look forward to seeing what you become my little friend." Throwing a few of the animal corpses into his jacket and filling it with as much of the mass as he can, he folds his coat in the manner of an old hobo sack and rises.
"For my purposes? Oh yes.."
"I'll get it taken care of," John says of the mess, while Loreley examines his wound. He makes his apologies to Lore, and has a short conversation on his phone while she finishes cleaning his wound, arranging for the scene to be cleaned.
With the focus of his frenzy dead, Aaron comes back to his senses and shifts back into his normal, human form. Flicking ooze from his fingers he looks to the group then looks as if he's scampering off in search of the thing.
Beatrice shrugs, perhaps it was best that the werewolves ignored her presence. "You alright, Rachel?" She asks, looking her fellow changeling up and down for injuries.
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