Candyman Finale
| Candyman Finale | |
|---|---|
| Players |
Wolves hunt the draugr responsible for so much death and sorrow in Englewood. |
Colt walks through the tunnel, the wet slime accumulated from the various drainage squishing under his shoes, the flat-soled Converse probably not exactly ideal for this situation. "I'm just not gonna think about what's going between my toes right now," he sighs to nobody in particular, holding up his phone to let the flashlight beam pour over the concrete walls. It's taking everything he has not to be entirely put off by the smell of rotting flesh, feces, and whatever else gets washed down with the leaves and plants and Mother Luna Only Knows What that's all decomposing into a layer of slick sludge underneath of them. The Irraka has apparently chosen to take point -- for all the good that stealth does them down here, anyway -- scouting ahead a ways to see what there is to be seen. “What exactly is this thing?” Ethan asks in a low murmur, because he’s not at all up to speed. He just knows they’re going to kill a thing. But he’s brought the fire ax that he has yet to successfully return to John. As soon as his boots hit the slime and the smell hits his nose he reacts too, though in his case it’s more staring straight ahead with a flat expression for a good few seconds. Following along with the group, Nick answers quietly "I dont know" he says honestly, "but if its down here I cant imagine it is up to any good. Alex? What exactly did you bring us all here to take care of?" His boots squish between the sludge and muck and slime and the Storm Lord just seems slightly annoyed at something as he looks where he is stepping, "...I liked these boots.." Alex nods in greeting as the group forms before the creature's lair they're hunting. "This thing is some vampire, we believe; it's been hunting and killing people at night and always escaping before the dawn. We thought it would sleep during the day, but when Jordan and I came here last time, it was awake and tried to attack us." With that said, the Bone Shadow asks Nick to help him in the rite of the sacred hunt, using a bowl of blood and pouch of ashes to mark the faces and hands of the wolves chanting in the first tongue and leading the group in a circle of dancing that brings the group in sync. Once complete, he moves into the underground tunnel system with the group. "It was strong, throwing large rocks at us. It has fangs and claws and has been around for some time. There is no point letting it live, so our job here is to destroy it." With that said, he shifts into near-wolf and moves along with the group, sniffing at the air as they move. The wet, grimy, and smelly sewers might not be the best of places to be in right now, or at any moment really, but the quiet darkness somewhat suits Kit just fine. Sure, the filth will likely bother him if it ever touches his bareskin or wets his clothes, but he doesn't seem to mind the smell... as much as a Werewolf with heightened senses can be, that is. Once gathered with the rest of the hunting party, and participating in the Sacred Hunt, Kit's form swells into Dalu and follows behind. The faces are quite unfamiliar, but hopefully he'll get to gauge some of their personalities during combat, comrades as they are. Down into the sewers, Jordan's wearing her work clothes, cause work clothes is what she's got. As soon as she hits the bottom, she drops down and roils up into her massive, ruddy wolf form, red and cream interspersed with more earthy browns to break up the pattern. Shaking her coat out, she lets Colt take point, slinking along across the width of the tunnel from him. The foul rot slows every movement, with only the occasional mound of solid trash or plastic providing anything like solid footing. The hunting party ventures forward in the darkness, heat radiating from the concrete, soaking them in grimy sweat that oozes into every pore. Alex and Jordan traced the way before and provide direction for the hunters, with Colt out front to take point and compensate for the confusion of foulness that threatens to blunt the senses. Phones are, fortunately, good for a few things. One of them, and perhaps the least used, is calling other people. Which is precisely what Colt does now. Pulling a little Bluetooth from his pocket, he sticks it in his ear and instructs the phone to, "Send a message to Moon Moon. Four way tunnel up ahead. Smells like vamp. It might be bleeding." That done, he sticks the little device back in his pocket, waiting for them to show up to him, rather than returning to scout back. The Iron Master apparently believes in the magic of technology. And not giving the thing an opportunity to get past him, if he retreats and comes back. Ethan’s phone beeps and he glances at the message. “Colt says there’s a four way tunnel up ahead that smells like bleeding vamp.” He wipes some of the grimy sweat away with the arm holding his phone, the shadows from the screen dancing briefly at crazy angles as he does. Just trying to keep the mess out of his eyes. Something about *four way tunnel* tightens his mouth a little. Nodding his head as the situation is explained, there is an 'oh' expression on Nick's face before he smirks slightly and says, "Well. If that is the case, this should prove entertaining." Taking a few more steps, the Storm Lords body begins shift into a large black wolf, bones popping and muscles tearing to accomodate the new form. Sniffing the air briefly before shaking his head and padding on with the group. Glancing at the one he doesnt recognize, Midnight sniffs at Kit for a moment before nodding his head and continues on. ~Clever prey apparently~ Midnight, Nick, says in the First Tongue. Kit will be taking up position at the flank of the party, offering his body towards anything that's intent on ambushing the group from behind, but moreso to ease his access if he wants to part from the group proper and set up his own ambush on the prey. He prays that Vampires don't have third eyes on the back of their heads or something, though even if they did, he'd still be confident in his own proficiency as New Moon. He briefly glances at Nick when he approaches for the sniff, but doesn't seem bothered otherwise. "You folks take the muth luzuk straight on, I'll see if I can't catch it off guard from behind. Let's hope it's not smart enough to take us on someplace really cramped." Alex sticks with his near-wolf form, the large dire wolf mostly covered in black fur with hints and highlights of gray and white seen throughout. Nodding his large head in understanding of what's said he falls near the back of the group, letting the stronger fighters take up the forward positions. Too hot and gross for fur, but Jo's not about to get this crap in her boots. The trade off is that she has to -taste- it, tongue hanging out, tip flipping drops of slobber every now and then as she huffs and puffs to try and shed some of the stifling heat. ~Good.~ Colt gives a hard swallow, the hot, cloying tunnels the least of his concerns right now. The smell of that blood -- no. Not blood. Something else. Something sweeter, satisfying on a visceral level. It starts to permeate the air, drowning out all of the other senses. He's already starting to scratch at his arm, a reflexive, old, *old* habit that the werewolf had thought long died off. He hasn't felt this since before his change... But he's feeling it now. That need, like an army of fire ants crawling through his veins. His mouth is as dry as sandpaper, and any sweat that he might have once had has now dried on his skin into a fine layer of salt. Eyes follow the source of the smell, into a corner. A corner where a small amount of movement has begun. A bubbling, coppery, silent rivulet of the wine-sweet thing he's craving right now. Some part of him wars inside. The rational man knows that this is wrong. That something is wrong. That the path he's on is the same path out of hell he clawed his way back out of. Literally. And yet the predator -- the predator just wants what it wants. It wants to feel good. It wants to satisfy its urges. And it's winning. Colt finds nothing of what he's looking for, tasting only unspeakable slime straight from the tunnel wall. The bubbling blood was but an illusion. It's when he looks up once more to see a streak of the stuff smeared across the wall, half a meter in length, about the width of a wrist. The reality sets in, and so does a wave of overwhelming fright. Colt's eyes go wide. If he weren't already in the near-man form, he would be now. That violent, reflexive urge coils up inside of him, and before he can tamp down on it, it springs upon. He louds out a yell of rage, anger, confusion, fear, eyes darting around the tunnel frantically. Trying to find the source of this -- whatever this is. And knowing that he can't. The smells of rage and raw fear wash over him as he turns and runs, back toward the others, at a breakneck speed that only just barely takes his own safety into account on the slippery surface. The yell sends Ethan into a run towards Colt, only to find Colt coming towards him. He reaches out to try to gently catch the other fellow. “*Colt,*” he says, not shouting it, but his voice firmer and more forceful than he usually lets it get. Before he’d been all quiet professionalism. But this is an attempt to ground, to anchor, to help. “Hey. Hey man, hey, I’ve got you, what’s going on?” He tries to sort of step to the side with Colt a little bit; the others might need to get where he is or out in front of him while he’s still trying to calm his friend down, and the last thing he wants to do is be in their way or present Colt’s back as some sort of tempting target. Ears twitch at the yell, and the large black wolf darts forward past the...fleeing?...Colt who is charging towards the main of the group. Eyes looking this way and that, ears twitching slightly.. Midnight approaches the intersection of tunnels now with caution as he slows and looks about. Kit unsheathes his bowie knife with a quick and smooth motion upon hearing the growing footsteps, and side-steps when he notices that it's Colt running at them, and at full speed. Assuming the worst, he raises the blade to his guard, eyes fixated on the fleeing wolf at first before shifting his gaze into the darkness behind where their prey awaits, half-hoping that some terrible creature that just scared the living shit out of Colt will pop out of the dark. It never does, perhaps not yet, but his eyes are still peeled and wary, following the rest of the group close behind. "He's running. Muth luzuk trickery?" With the creature already showing its power in using fear to scare one of the hunters, Alex growls and then lets out a loud, wailing howl that reverberates through the tunnels, seeking to intimidate the creature they hunt. Jordan starts to step into Colt's frantic path, until Ethan moves to greet him. Ears twitch back, then prick forward - but soothing him isn't something she is apt to be much good at without knowing him better. There's not a sound from the Irraka, a moment's focus and the ruddy, russet pelt seems to darken, become smoke and shadow as she moves to step with Nick, trying to veer wide once there's room to - seeking to use him as bait and get in position to ambush or flank. Colt is caught up by Ethan. The man is bigger than him, by a lot, and there's not a lot of traction control going on with those shoes, so it's not hard to hold him where he is. "Lemme go!" he snarls at Ethan. "She's here! She's *here!*" The man is terrified, the wolf on the border of springing out and just -- raging. Given how close Colt is to his wolf? It's no great stretch of the imagination to think that would be a *bad thing*. But as Ethan works on talking him down, it seems to have some effect. He stops struggling, just sinking into the other man as he looks back down the tunnel, shaking. Confusion comes to his eyes, and he spits, something terrible-tasting in his mouth. "Ethan?" he asks. The last few seconds all become a blur, and the best in him calms once more, as if washed away. "The *fuck*?" Padding forward into the crossway of the room, Midnight's head moves slowly this way and that as it peers down one muck filled tunnel on to another. Sniffing the air slowly, the Storm Lord honestly seems at a loss as to what would have caused the man to run. Turning his head, he goes to look back towards the tunnel to say something when the hackles on the back of his neck raise and his ears flatten. His maw opens in a deep growl as he tries to move to the side quickly and is stopped dead in the muck shaking to try and free himself. Alex can't see where the creature is but they're trying to pinpoint it's location. Sniffing at the putrid air and listening with his acute wolf hearing. Growing frustrated he growls and lets out a howl of anger. Crack. Midnight has seized completely by this point as they sound of breaking bone and ripping flesh can be heard. The growl fades quickly into a pain filled howl as part of his front leg is almost ripped free from his body. The left foreleg dangles useless as a shower of blood erupts from the large Dire Wolf. Situating himself in the dark as the party approaches closer towards their intended prey, Kit lies in wait like a true Irraka, allowing the rest of the less-stealthy Urdaga to take a more direct approach. Knife in hand, clawed sausagey fingers of the near-man gripping tight, Kit is taken by surprise when he notices that an invisible force has gotten hold of one of the wolves. Again, more muth luzuk trickery, something he's been extremely wary of since stepping foot in these sewers. His patience is running thin as he witnesses Midnight struggling, but all he can do is wait and observe 'til the prey shows itself before he can strike. Jordan hates not seeing anything. But she hates someone she knows being torn up by something unseen even more. She'd planned on hunkering down to wait, like Kit is (he's smarter!), but seeing that limb dangling uselessly hits a nerve. She breaks from her hunker in the shadows, powerful hindquarters driving her forward to slam her mass into Nick just as he starts to shift - trying to drive a wedge between him and whatever has caused that wound. Colt can't get a bearing on where the thing is. He continues looking, but the Chaos around him makes it hard to pinpoint. Between Ethan's challenge and Jordan's sudden pounce on Nick, there's motion everywhere, and finding something out of place too much of a challenge for him to do on short notice, but he continues focusing. A jerk of Ethan’s head towards a shift in the shadows. Going on point as he hears growls and ripping flesh. A wide look around tells him the others don’t see it any better than he does, except maybe Nick that’s getting eaten. Maybe he can taunt it into making a mistake. Coming for him, getting closer, buying Nick and Jordan some breathing room, charging into their ambush, whatever, he doesn’t know, he just knows words are sometimes weapons and he’ll do his best to make a weapon outta his. He steps away from Colt, now. His voice takes on a drawling purr, and he projects like a theater major, attempting to put the attention right on him instead in the hopes of setting everyone else up. “C’mon now, bloodsucker, I ain’t had foreplay this limp wristed since back of the bleachers at my first high school dance. Why don’t you get on out here and get some for real?” He makes the universal ‘come at me’ gesture into the darkness, grinning. WHAM. Out of nowhere suddenly the growing form of Midnight is knocked over into the muck as he completes his change. The left arm attaches back to the main body with a wet and sick sounding slurp as the Warform of the Storm Lord is growling and trying to break free. A splurt of blood erupts from the Gauru's body before he is suddenly free from whatever was restraining him. Turning his head even as the wound begins to knit up he lets out a growl of anger as his eyes are locked on a target, ~ETHAN LOOK OUT!~ Pain. Synapses fire at light speed as the hulking form of the Gauru rises to his feet as the final wound seals close. That pain quickly turns into a cold fury. Fury at the humiliation. Fury at the fact that it spit out his blood. /HIS BLOOD/ AT LEAST DRINK IT YOU PALE MAGGOT FUCK! And the sheer fucking audacity of moving towards one of his Tribe. No more. In this moment of cold fury, its clear to see the image of Skolis-Ur within him as he plants himself and roars at the thing as it moves towards Ethan. The illusion of invisibility shatters, and the foe is laid bare by Nick's fury for all the wolves to see: a huge, misshapen humanoid figure, dead, sallow, puffy skin wrapped taut around bulbous muscles and twisted bones. Its face is like a ragged skeleton full of fangs and twisted teeth. Aware that it is exposed, its run at Ethan slows but does not cease. The shroud concealing the prey breaks, Jordan moving without hesitation once there is a target to go for. Digging claws into the slickness of the tunnel, she skitter-charges at the revealing monstrosity, digging her teeth into whatever she can get a grip on and jerking her head, the entirety of her weight to try and for the thing off-balance and drag it so it can't recover long enough to turn away incoming efforts as easily. This Bone Shadow has teeth, lots of them, but he decides to lunge out with a lethal swing of his blade instead. A firm grip assures him that his strike is true, and if Vampires weren't so fucking tough, he surely would've poured all of its nonexistent guts into the sewer grime right about now, but Kit still does manage to slice up a good portion of this muth luzuk, enough to make it howl and cry out in agony. The knife cuts are DEEP, though knowing a Vampire's biology barely any blood leaks out, but it's still very unsightly with all the torn dead tissue and visible bones and whatnot. Alex waits for his chance to strike, growling and pacing around the group as they fight the now visible vampire. When an opening appears he strikes, rushing forward and biting into the vampire's flesh with his massive jaws and sinking his teeth deep into its undead flesh. He holds on tight, growling around the hold on the vampire as he tries to keep it occupied for the rest of the wolves to finish off. Everything just explodes into action. Nick and Jordan and Kit -- all of them, a blur of movement. Colt does his best to keep track of what's going on, waiting for the right moment to strike. But it's after Kit and Alex move the thing back onto the ropes, Kit practically making jerky of it, Alex holding it with his teeth, that Colt moves it. The strike is simple, efficient, claws tearing through the flesh of the throat, practically dislodging the head after Jordan ensured that it couldn't move as quickly. He flicks the blood off of his fingers, looking down at them for a moment, a puzzled glance on his face. But just as quickly, he wipes the gore onto his pants, ridding himself of the sticky substance. And whatever temptation might have caused that look. That vampire was charging right on at him and Moon Moon had *laughed.* Ethan’s still grinning, face flushed. And when the others rip the creature to mince meat he lets out a: “Woo! Yeah! That’s what I’m talkin’ bout!” He then gets a little embarrassed at the outburst, and asks a more measured, “Y’all ok?” It *was* a lot of confusion, and he knows Nick there got tagged. Jordan doesn't let go until the thing falls down and watches, licking her jaws and drooling to try and get rid of the taste. Blech. Once the thing is truly destroyed, she relaxes a little - backing off from wired to kill to a milder alertness while the remains are divvied. "The muth luzuk gave a good fight," Kit proclaims in the First Tongue, as he slowly steps out of the shadows, eyes pinned on what was once a Nosferatu, now probably ashes. "It's still a fucking leech, though." He switches it up to English, with the hint of a Chicago accent. "But still, a good fight's a good fight," he continues, taking one knee down and grabbing ahold of some of the ashes, probably a bone as well. A trophy, and fuck knows what else knowing he's a Bone Shadow. Rising up, he gives each person here an appraising look, one that says that everyone did an amazing fucking job even though they're not conveyed into words. Kit also utters a little prayer in the First Tongue as the souvenirs are collected. If anyone is paying attention, the prayer is directed towards Kamduis-Ur herself.
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[[Category:Logs Logs|Candyman Finale ]]