DATE:  Sometime in January
Place:  Harbor Park Fountain

---- Recall start ----

Bill makes his way down the disintegrating cement path, leaving the road 
   behind.
Elspeth Summers is a short way from the bench, bending down and inspecting a 
   flower bed. "Any idea what these bulbs are?"
Becca makes her way through the tall grass of the south.
Elspeth Summers looks round and sees JJ is uninterested, so she shrugs, and 
   wanders off a bit further. The pair have an air of people killing time 
   about them, although the black woman is obviously bored, and snooping 
   around trying to find anything to take an interest in.
JJ Malone is sitting on the bench Elspeth is near, over by the fountain, 
   slouched casually and smoking a cigarette. She says in her unusually deep 
   (at least for a woman) voice, "You're guess is as good as mine. Probably 
   better, you know that."
Becca and Bill come in from streetside, following one of the park's designated 
   pathways. They've each got a styrofoam cup that radiates heat out the top, 
   coffee or chocolate or soup or something.
JJ Malone mutters with faint bemusement at her companion, "You're going to 
   make me tense as much as you're pacing around, El."
Bill tags along with Becca, being careful not to jar himself too badly while 
   walking.
Elspeth Summers half chuckles. "OK -- are the flowers nice here in the summer?"
JJ Malone's mouth quirks up into a slight, wry half-smile. "They are. 
   Especially the pinwheels."
Becca's path shifts, off the trodden trail in the grass, once she notices the 
   two Walkers up by the fountain. "C'mon, Tex," she says. "JJ's here, and I 
   bet that's what's-her-name. These are people you need to meet, 
   what's-her-name at least." She's very careful not to swear around the cub 
   today, still trying to make up for the trauma of the previous evening.
Elspeth Summers says "OK. So that's a good thing."
Elspeth Summers smiles.
"'kay, Becca," replies Bill as he continues walking with her towards the 
   fountain, clutching the styrofoam cup of hot liquid in one hand. "I sure 
   was nice 'a ya t' took me wit' ya' t'day."
Becca keeps right on walking, up toward JJ and Elspeth, expecting Bill to tag 
   along with her. "Hey," she says, letting the word come out in a puff of 
   white air.
JJ Malone is about to respond to Elspeth's comment, as she hears the 
   approaching footsteps and turns her head around to spy the two. Becca she 
   recognizes; Bill she does not. She gives a cautious nod of her head with a 
   wary expression.
Elspeth Summers turns round, coming back to JJ's bench from where she'd 
   meandered. She seems to have come back just to offer JJ a smoke, and 
   wordlessly extends her pack of Lights.
Bill hangs around Becca like a drowning man would hang around a life preserver 
   thrown in his direction.
JJ Malone accepts the cigarette with silent gratitude, using her almost spent 
   Camel to light the new one, then indicates Becca for Elspeth. "This is 
   Becca, El, if you haven't been formally introduced."
Elspeth Summers waves dismissively at the word 'formally'. "Hi there. I been 
   hearin' about you from the others."
Becca elbows Bill lightly as he starts pushing in on her personal space, 
   nothing rough at all though it probably hits a tender spot. "Yeah, JJ's 
   told me about you, too. This is Tex-- I mean, Bill."
"Howdy," Bill responds to JJ Malone following a brief wince as Becca 
   inadvertantly hits a tender spot. Despite Becca's brief 'Tex' reference, 
   his accent is blatently from the southeastern US. El, on the other hand, 
   merely merits a brief glance before Bill's attention is redirected 
   quizzically to Becca.
JJ Malone's eyebrows go up at Becca as she looks back at the girl 
   questioningly, as if waiting for something further.
Elspeth Summers's breath whistles inwards. "Been in the wars, Bill?" Elspeth 
   asks this with a cheery smile, unconcerned that any serious damage might 
   have been caused.

Bill's desc:
Bill looks to be in his early teens, just hitting the puberty and pimples 
   stage. Blonde hair is kept in an erratic and short trim with the exception 
   of a foot-long rat tail in the back. His eyes are a fair blue, contrasting 
   sharply with his rough and calloused freckled skin. His ears, unlike most 
   city youth, are unpierced.
Insofar as fashion goes, his clothes look like they're hand-me-downs from an 
   older brother or the Salvation Army. He's wearing a dusty and grimy pair of 
   denim overalls and a smelly blue cotton parka. Over this is a worn jacket. 
   On his feet are a pair of soiled work boots.
Bill looks like he's run afoul of the wrong people recently. He is breathing 
   shallowly, doesn't bend his torso much, and is sporting one hell of a 
   shiner.

Bill looks up at Elsbeth, but it appears as if the inquiry just went in one 
   ear and right out the other.
Becca says, as quiet explanation, "He's a cub, had a fetch and everything on 
   him. Been flipside, been to the woods... and every fu-- everytime he sees a 
   crinos he goes wump, flat on his back, out like a light. He's a messed up 
   kid." All this is said directly in front of the kid in question; Becca is 
   past the point of worrying about offending him.
Elspeth Summers chuckles. "Y'mean you smartass the big boys and they smack you 
   one?"
JJ Malone seems to relax at Becca's identification of him as Garou, but looks 
   curious at the description of his reaction to crinos. She seems content to 
   allow Elspeth to talk, though, simply smoking idly and studying the boy.
Bill purses his lips, chews on the ower one, and then looks anywhere but in 
   Elsbeth's direction. JJ suddenly becomes interesting to look at.
Elspeth Summers transfers her questioning gaze to Becca.
Becca shakes her head. "Nah, the kid passes out. Every single fucking time he 
   sees a crinos. Shit, even if we just *talk* about them, I'm scared he'll do 
   it." So much for not swearing. "JJ said you worked with messed up Garou 
   sometimes and, well, he's pretty fucked up."
Bill grimaces mildly at Becca's vulgarity.
Elspeth Summers's smile turns knowing. "Ah -- now I'm with you. So, err, what 
   stage does his..." She turns back to Bill. "Bill, have they found out what 
   stage your kin-fetch seems to be at?"
Bill leans in closer to Becca, so he can speak relatively quietly with her 
   while sneaking a brief, furtive look at Elspeth in the process.
Elspeth Summers obligingly turns to her own thoughts for a space.
JJ Malone's expression draws into a taut frown at the whispering. Unlike 
   Elspeth, it seems to have offended the blonde a bit if that and the sudden 
   look of irritation is any sign.
Becca's eyes narrow at the whisper from the boy, and she darts a look from 
   Elspeth to JJ and back again. Even Bill has had enough to experience to 
   realize that this is not a good reaction from the older Gnawer. She 
   whispers a few, quick words back to him, and then takes a half step back to 
   wait for his response.
Bill looks around Becca at Elspeth again. Then responds with a quick answer.
JJ Malone snorts, then says to Elspeth, "So, think you can resist making the 
   switch to becoming a Mariners fan?"
Becca's response is just as quick, but more physical. Her hand curls into a 
   fist, which in turn closes in on Bill's face at high velocity as she steps 
   into the punch. It's thrown with some skill, not a typical 'girl punch'.
JJ Malone tenses reflexively at the sudden violence, but does a fairly good 
   job by managing to stay in her seat given her mood and the moon. The frown 
   of earlier is now a tight-jawed expression, and she exudes the very subtle 
   aura of violence inherent in those who have the rage of an ahroun.
Bill clearly didn't expect this reaction from Becca. The punch connects hard 
   and Bill goes down, hands clutching his bloody nose as the remnants of his 
   hot chocolate spill onto the ground nearby.
Elspeth Summers hasn't time to answer. She turns to see fully what's going on 
   between the young Gnawers.
Becca doesn't look like she's in danger of losing real control, just like 
   she's suddenly become very angry. "Cut the crap, Tex, you're not in 
   Bumfuck, Alabama anymore, so act like a normal human being for a change, 
   would you."
Bill keeps his hands over his face as a few drops of blood drip down his arms. 
   He's busy blinking back tears of pain and apparently stunned out of his 
   wits.
JJ Malone chuckles very quietly for no apparent reason, her predatory gaze 
   fixing on Bill watchfully.
Becca says, "Now quit acting like a little kid and get up. You're not hurt." 
   The observant might note that, though Becca's backed up from the cub, her 
   hand is still in a tight fist as she watches him.
Bill runs his sleeve over his eyes and makes an effort at stopping the 
   bloodied nose from bleeding--apparently no stranger to fisticuffs. He says, 
   nasally, "Ya di'n't need t' hit me, Becca." He gets, blinking, back to his 
   feet. This time, he stays a bit further away from Becca.
Elspeth Summers murmurs wryly, "If he starts givin' you any trouble, you can 
   always -- what do the cops call it? -- pacify him by just turnin' into a 
   monster..."
Becca unclenchs her fist and then jerks a thumb back toward Bill. "See, he's a 
   mess. I don't know how to fix him, either."
Elspeth Summers says "Hey, Bill why don'tcha -- not here, but why don'tcha 
   turn into the monster yourself and sic' her one?"
JJ Malone's snicker at Elspeth's comment is faintly malevolent, but she has 
   yet to take her mirror-shaded gaze off of the cub.
Bill sneaks another glance at Elspeth while a trickle of blood oozes over his 
   upper lip. He seems loath to even acknowledge Elspeth's existence, looking 
   instead at the ground.
Elspeth Summers's tone just begins to edge towards the shrill. "Well -- can 
   you or can't you?"
Becca says, in a warning voice, "Bill, I swear to god, you don't start acting 
   like a normal human being and talk to Elspeth there, I'll... well, I'll do 
   something."
JJ Malone's steely voice cuts through the two women's. "So, what's his excuse 
   for not talking to Elspeth, anyway?"
Elspeth Summers says "Jeez, Becs, it's hardly like the Walkers are your 
   bigtime authority figures or anything..."
Bill continues ignoring Elspeth. He does occasionally look at Becca and JJ 
   though. Judging from Becca's tone of voice, he finally opts to 
   obey--marginally. He looks at her.
Becca says, "None." She looks pretty frustrated at how this is going, Elspeth 
   having been her hope for some 'miracle solution'. "And Vincent was riding 
   his ass all last night. Shit, maybe he's just never going to shift."
JJ Malone's eyebrows quirk up, shortly before she snorts. She says quietly, so 
   as to go under Elspeth in case she starts to speak while she is, "He just 
   hasn't had the proper motivation to again."
Elspeth Summers looks to be thinking hard. She absently waves the pack of 
   Marlie Lights in an offhand gesture towards Becca and Bill if they're 
   interested.
Becca shakes off the offer of cigarettes. Now that Bil is at least partially 
   behaving himself, she offers him the rest of her (unspilled) hot chocolate. 
   "He's not done it yet at all. We've been trying, a little. He freaks out 
   too much before we get a chance to really try."
Bill seems to have staunched the majority of the bloody nose, settling into 
   sniffing hard to clear it of blood every so often. He looks, needless to 
   say, hurt, confused, and even a bit betrayed. "Do'an wan' 't," he says to 
   Becca as she tries pressing her hot chocolate upon him.
JJ Malone seems to throw Elspeth a cautious glance, before turning back to 
   give Bill a hard look of irritation. Then to Becca, she says, "Kid's 
   shifted. Maybe not even he remembers it, but he has."
Becca slurps down some of her hot chocolate, trying to puzzle through what 
   JJ's saying. "What, you seen him do it?" she finally asks, and almost 
   immediately shifts focus on Bill. "So that true, Tex? Have you shifted be-- 
   aw, shit. Maybe something bad happened, you got scared, you didn't mean 
   to..."
Elspeth Summers nods. "That's often the way. 'Specially with full-mooners."
Bill expression slowly shifts from hurt, confused, and betrayed to hurt, 
   confused, and a bit spooked. He stays quiet and looks at the ground.
JJ Malone brings up a booted ankle to rest on her knee, a slap of her hand 
   against the leather knocking snow from the treads. Her gaze never wavers 
   fromt he cub. "If he can get flipside, he has to have."
Becca says, "He's gibbous, like me. I looked up his birthday, like Fiver 
   taught me to, at the library." She runs the back of her hand under her 
   nose. "Did someone try to hurt you after you ran away, Tex? You won't get 
   in trouble, I swear. You didn't do anything on purpose, so it's not your 
   fault at all."
Elspeth Summers's mouth forms an 'O'. "Oh, well, sure -- Galliards can have 
   plenty of the moon in them as well. They told you about where Rage comes 
   from, Bill?"
Bill seems to be rapidly breaking down. "He....," murmurs the cub, "he w's 
   hurt'n' me an... I...I..."
Elspeth Summers allows herself a private smile -- this is getting to more 
   familiar country now. She knows when to shut up and let the floodgates go.
JJ Malone looks around the park, then suggest in a tone that makes it not 
   quite suggestion, "Rialto."
Bill swallows hard and completes what he was trying to say. "I hitted Marv'n 
   back." He's crying by now, no chance of stopping it.
Becca looks over at JJ, realizes quickly that the ahroun probably isn't the 
   best person to look to, and then promptly cuts a glance over toward 
   Elspeth, one of those 'what shoud I do now?' silent pleas. She takes a step 
   closer to Bill. "It's okay... yeah, Rialto, sure. Come on, Bill, buck up 
   for a sec."
Bill sniffs and chokes back whatever's been on the thresholds over the past 
   month. He looks like someone could easily lead him over the edge of a cliff 
   in his current state.
Elspeth Summers murmurs low again, "Yeah, maybe you're right. Don't want him 
   relivin' this too vividly out here in full view." And then with a raised 
   voice, "OK, let's get inside into the warm. I've had enough of this park 
   for the afternoon anyway."
JJ Malone pushes up from her seat strongly, and strikes out west towards the 
   road. "You haven't seen the Rialto yet, El..."

You make your way onto the street.
Intersection of Elson Avenue and 1st Street
Contents:
Yellow Cab

Bill leaves the park in the east.
Becca leaves the park in the east.
Elspeth Summers leaves the park in the east.
Becca ventures north, travelling down First Street.
Bill ventures north, travelling down First Street.
Elspeth Summers ventures north, travelling down First Street.
Elspeth Summers has left.

You venture north, travelling down First Street.
1st Street, The Waterfront
Contents:
Elspeth Summers
Bill
Becca
Truck

You go into the alley beside the Rialto and enter the old theater through a 
   door there.
The Rialto -- Auditorium

Becca comes in through the reinforced door over which an old exit sign still 
   glows.
Bill comes in through the reinforced door over which an old exit sign still 
   glows.
Elspeth Summers comes in through the reinforced door over which an old exit 
   sign still glows.
Becca sticks close to Bill, guiding him a little and hoping he doesn't freak 
   out or anything on the way. The Rialto is, at least for her, a familiar 
   place.
JJ Malone is silent but watchful on the short walk up, and is the last to go 
   in after another quick look around. She sighs irritably as she comes into 
   the relative shelter of the abandoned building. "Convenient, but I hate 
   it." She flashes a fresh cigarette back to life, then throws herself bodily 
   into one of the sturider remaining seats, to start studying Bill again.
Bill is easily led by Becca as he works on controlling his sniffles.
Becca has no idea what she's supposed to be doing now, and can only think to 
   get to the bottom of it. She steers Bill up toward the front of the 
   theatre. "Who's Marvin?" she asks, hesitantly. "Someone from school, some 
   bully in your neighborhood, maybe?"
Bill practically chokes it out. "M' broth'r."
"Aw, shit," Elspeth quietly exclaims to herself.
JJ Malone gives Elspeth a deliberate glance, seeming to understand what might 
   have elicited the response, but not sharing it. She lets it linger a 
   moment, then turns back to watch the two Gnawers with kind of a detached 
   interest.
Elspeth Summers says "You have to tell us what happened Bill, even if it's 
   just that you don't remember it. That anger, it's not just a you-thing, 
   it's something that affects us all."
Becca's brow furrows; not one of her top three guesses, there. "It's okay," 
   she says, like she's stuck on repeat mode, "it wasn't your fault, whatever 
   happened, it was like an accident. See, it's okay, there are adults here 
   and no one's mad so it must be okay."
Once there's a leak in the dam, the rest just starts coming out. "We... we'd 
   done steal't some o' th' Perkin's shine an' Marv'n," Bill swallows hard, 
   but manages to continue on. "Som'time he gets downri'ht mean wh'n he drinks 
   an' we was drinkin' th' shine in th' cave and then got to a-rassl'n an'.. 
   an'... an'..." Bill looks straight ahead, as if he was looking directly 
   through the walls of the place. "An' then I wok'd up."
Becca, uncertain as to whether she should press for that missing bit or just 
   keep her mouth shut, looks over at Elspeth.
With another cub, with a girl, with anyone less tetchy around her, Elspeth 
   would be out of her seat and straight over -- as it is, her knuckles 
   tighten on the wooden armrest, but she stays where she is. "Becs is right, 
   Bill -- that's not your fault. No one told you you were a goddamn werewolf 
   and you had to be careful not to get mad, did they? That's one of the 
   things we're all supposed to do: watch out for our relatives, and make sure 
   we snap 'em up and teach 'em before anything wrong happens. But obviously 
   something went wrong with whoever was lookin' out for you..."
"Dunno wha' hap'ned. I were out yonder in th' next holler an'--" Bill looks at 
   his hands, bloodied from his nose earlier and lending emphasis to his 
   words. He raises them up for Becca to see. "Blood. Oh Lawd, they were 
   cover't in 't!" The hands go to his face, then drop uselessly at his sides 
   as his head rolls back to face the ceiling and the Great Maker above. "An' 
   then I'dt gone back an' seen't Marv'n all..." It's apparently too much for 
   him at this point, and he breaks down into sobbing.
JJ Malone says quietly if bluntly, "Shit happens, kid."
Becca rubs her palm across her cammo pants, up and down, up and down, every 
   now and then darting a look back to Elspeth. "Hey, Tex, Bill, calm down a 
   second, I swear it's not bad as you think," she says, while her mind races 
   to try to figure out how to put something like this in even a questionably 
   acceptable state for Bill to except. She fumbles randomly through what 
   little bits and pieces of Christianity she knows, and perhaps starts to 
   only make things worse in her attempts. "Just, I dunno, ask God to strike 
   you down if he thinks you did something so bad he can't forgive you. Do 
   that, right now, and I bet nothing happens. That makes sense, right, and if 
   you do get struck down... well, I mean, it's like repenting or whatever. 
   But it won't happen, because it's not your fault, you'll see."
Elspeth Summers nods solemnly. "Go ahead -- say it."
Bill, somehow, doesn't appear consoled much by Becca's timeless words of 
   Christian wisdom. He sobs a bit longer before wrangling himself under some 
   semblence of self control. "I di'n't m...mean t' do 't."
Becca keeps the mounting impatience from her tone; this still isn't working 
   how she wanted it to. "I know, no one thinks you did, no one at all. You 
   still believe in God, though, don't you?" she asks, while giving JJ a 
   narrowed look, like she's just expecting that to elicit a snort from the 
   ahroun.
Bill nods his head faintly at Becca, wiping tears, blood and snot from his 
   face with the back of a sleeve.
Elspeth Summers says "Hey, come on... You never did anythin' like this before, 
   right? So you know you're kinda not just the same ole Bill any more, but 
   that don't make you a murderer or nuthin', it just means you have to learn 
   to control your new strength..."
"I kil't my own kin!" Bill yells at Elspeth, as if it was obviously all her 
   fault.
Becca, bit by bit, is sacrificing patience for frustration. "Go on, Bill, tell 
   God to strike you down if what you did was so bad. Tell him to drop one of 
   those big beams on your head. Go on."
JJ Malone just leans back into her seat and watches, not even reacting to 
   where Becca expected her to.
Bill drops his head into his hands in submission to the onrush of angst. "An 
   this is how The Lawd is pun'shin' me."
Elspeth Summers says "We got a lot of stories 'mong our people," and here she 
   hurriedly adds: " -- the werewolves, I mean -- and some of them have people 
   wipin' out their whole families before they get their heads straight and 
   learn to take control of what's inside 'em. That's what you've got to do 
   now. Even if your family, your kin, is a long way away, you've got to get 
   your head round this or someone else'll be next. Not Marvin, but whoever it 
   is, they'll still be SOMEONE'S brother or sister, or someone's little kid."
JJ Malone comments caustically to Elspeth, "You know, I'm really glad I'm not 
   this god damn Christian shit. Just thought I'd mention it."
Bill swallows hard. "I ain't gon' kil't no body."
Becca says, "Good, Tex." She sucks in a breath at JJ's comment, but figures 
   Bill isn't paying all that much attention, anyway. "But you have to fucking 
   start listening to us, and not fighting what we say, get it?"
Elspeth Summers adds grimly, "Or God won't have shit on how WE'll punish 
   you..."
Bill is breathing heavy now despite his shallow breathing from earlier on. He 
   looks over at Becca and closes his eyes. "'kay, Becca. I doa'n wan'a go t' 
   jail."
Elspeth Summers gives a slight chuckle at this, and softens again. "I wouldn't 
   say that was the biggest of your worries right either."
Becca says, "Nobody's going to throw your butt in jail, if anyone's going to 
   jail it's me, so don't worry. Okay?" She pushes off from the stage front 
   she'd been leaning against, and walks a few steps forward. "You need to 
   make sure you try to do what me and Mosh and Matt tell you, though, get it? 
   And you're going to have to start by believing us when we say that you're a 
   werewolf. Werewolves aren't bad, they just are."
JJ Malone seems mildly offended again. "Werewolves aren't bad, they're good. 
   Christ," she says sharply, conveying irritation in the simple word.
Pete Barlow comes in through the door to the right of the stage at the front 
   of the theater.
Bill pauses as something seems to click deep within his cranium. "Werewolf?"
Pete Barlow scratches the back of his uncovered head, his coat off and the 
   left side of his face creased, as if he either just woke up or has been 
   taking an overly long Sunday afternoon nap--both possibilities quote 
   likely. Fortunately, he's wiped away whatever drool may have dampened his 
   beard. "What's all the racket up here?" Mmm. Mood might be a tad sour.
Elspeth Summers smiles grimly to confirm what Bill said.
JJ Malone is slouched, nay, sprawled acorss one of the sturdier of the chairs 
   near the front of the aud, attention focused mostly on Bill although Becca 
   occaisionally gets a glance. Dark eyebrows arch over the rims of her 
   glasses at a quick assessment of Pete, before she says simply. "Cub."
Becca stands a short distance from Bill, trying to talk him into some 
   functional state. "Yeah, werewolf. Garou. Wolfman."
Bill seems to be looking for explanations and Becca's recent venture seems as 
   plausable as any. He sniffs again and rots the bloody/snotty sleeve over 
   his face again while looking Pete over.
Becca, after another look at Bill, walks over closer to Pete. The whisper she 
   gives is certainly not one to carry past the two. "Vincent tried to get me 
   to kill the cub last night."
Pete Barlow runs both hands back over his head, spending plenty of time trying 
   to rub life back into his face. "Vincent?" growls Barlow's question, not 
   whispered at all as he looks over at the cub.
JJ Malone shifts in her seat, putting her boots up on the back of the seat in 
   front of her and crosses them at the ankles. She seems content to be an 
   audience for the most part, although Pete's growling gets a faintly curious 
   glance.
Bill suddenly seems to realize what a wreck he looks, what with the various 
   fluids that have leaked out over his face, and starts making an effort to 
   wipe his face clean with the other sleeve.
Becca ducks her head in a quick nod. She's still speaking quiet, under her 
   breath. "Yeah, when he couldn't talk me into it, persuade me that it'd be 
   best, he tried working me up in a fight so I'd do it."
Elspeth Summers pushes up from her seat and moves close to Becca with a frown. 
   Cupping a hand she whispers a question.
JJ Malone fishes out a fresh cigarette, then offers one to Bill since the 
   other three homids seem to be busy. "It helps, a little," she explains with 
   simple matter-of-factness. "Better than alcohol."
Bill wipes the inside of his sleeve against the inside torso of the shirt. He 
   looks from JJ to the offered cigarette. A hand reaches up for it, takes it, 
   and stops. "Like shine?" Mental assosciations are made. "I bet'r not." He 
   hands it back to JJ Malone.
Becca hadn't exactly invited Elspeth over, and the answer to her question 
   might be a little curt. "How the fuck should I know?" she says, quietly. "I 
   just about killed the kid, he had me so worked up."
Pete Barlow looks past Becca again as he scratches near where a waistband 
   would be if garou males wore underwear. (What's the point with all the 
   shifting that goes on?). "You did that to Billy?" A strong dose of suprise 
   seems to dominate Pete's expression.
JJ Malone, if she's aware of the conversation going on over to the side, 
   doesn't react to it. She offers the cigarette back. "Nah, not like shine. 
   This stuff doesn't make you lose control. Helps to calm you."
Elspeth Summers purses her lips but has to let something remain a mystery for 
   now. She heads back to the front-row seat she'd been in, and sits back down 
   watching Bill again.
Becca glances back at the cub -- maybe he's changed appreciably in the last 
   fifteen seconds -- and shrugs. "That? I was teaching him to mind his 
   manners. He shifted once, killed his brother, blocked it out, and hasn't 
   since. He's all fucked up," she concludes, giving the standard Bill 
   diagnosis.
Bill looks from the lady to the offered cigarette, and finally accepts it. 
   "Thanky, ma'am. I think I'ma seriously hurtin' for som'thin' like that 
   there."
JJ Malone gives a curt shake of her head. "Not a ma'am. Malone. J.J. Malone. 
   Or Shades, if you'd rather." She digs out a cigarette and flicks it on to 
   light her own stick, offering it out steadily for Bill to use.
Pete Barlow blows out his breath heavily, probably a sigh. "He's still not 
   gettin' it?"
Becca says, "Maybe, I don't know. At least he acts like he believes he's a 
   werewolf now." She raises her voice to call over to Bill, "Hey, Tex, you 
   doing okay?"
Bill sticks the end of the cigarette into the flame. It wobbles shakely, but 
   catches in time. "Sor'y, mist'r. My name's Bill Roy Stevens, Jr., but mos' 
   folks call me Bill 'cept f'r Becca n' Mosh n' Mattman an' they jus' call me 
   Tex." He manages something of a strained smile at Becca.
Elspeth Summers says "They're sayin' he's a Gnawer Galliard cub -- since 
   introductions are being done, and I guess Bill's not in the habit yet."
JJ Malone seems to debate something momentarily before correcting again, "Not 
   mister, either. Just Malone. Or Shades. Or J.J. if you're feelin' lucky." 
   She grins faintly over at Elspeth, and nods. "I'm a Walker. Full moon, and 
   metis. Prolly don't know what that is, though, either."
Pete Barlow gives a nod to Summers. "That's what I was hearin'." He looks at 
   Bill again for a long moment. "I'm Pete. Or you can call me Chugs." Barlow 
   then turns to look at Becca. "So... where you go the boy? Just at the 'he 
   knows he's a werewolf' stage?"
Bill puts the cigarette to his lips, takes a long, sucking drag from it, and 
   promptly begins an attempt to hack up his lungs.
Elspeth Summers offers up, "We just got past the 'I killed my brother in my 
   First Change, but I don't remember doin' it' stage..."
JJ Malone simply grins at Bill's reaction, inhaling on her cigarette 
   diffidently. "It takes some getting used to," she comments in a mutter.
Becca winces some, as Elspeth brings that up aloud again. "He's a cub us Wharf 
   Rats have been keeping an eye on, trying to bring around. We've taken him 
   flipside, once, and out to the Park."
Pete Barlow's brows knit some as he listens and watches Bill--Barlow's not 
   taken his eyes off the cub. "I wonder if you shouldn't stick him out at the 
   park for a few weeks. Maybe get Jim to keep tabs on him."
Bill hacks a few more times, nodding at JJ's words of advice. As he recovers, 
   he takes another drag in order to 'get used to' it. The results seem to be 
   much like the first time. Hack! Hack! Hack!
Becca says, defensively, "I'm not letting the Rangers fuck him up worse, nuh 
   uh. He's our cub, Pete. He needs to stay in the city."
JJ Malone's head whips over to Pete, and her voice is shocked incredulity and 
   a little bit disparaging, the first real sign she's paying attention to 
   that conversation. "You can't be *serious*." She holds up as Becca seems to 
   outline her own rationale, except the
JJ Malone's head whips over to Pete, and her voice is shocked incredulity and 
   a little bit disparaging, the first real sign she's paying attention to 
   that conversation. "You can't be *serious*." She holds up as Becca seems to 
   outline her own rationale, except the 'being our cub' part.
Pete Barlow looks over at Becca, not paying JJ much heed at the moment. 
   "You're serious about that, Sis?"
Becca says, "Yeah, I'm serious." Past aggravations with the cub are smoothly 
   forgotten. "We just need to get him to shift, and we've got it."
Elspeth Summers moves over a little, and speaking to Bill himself, asks, 
   "Where've they been lettin' you stay so far, Bill?"
"Ov'r with Becca in th'..." Bill shuts up as he realizes who he was speaking 
   to.
The big Gnawer takes a moment more to study Becca's expression and then nods. 
   "Fair enough. He's your responsibility then. Your cub. And all that goes 
   with that business. Got it?"
JJ Malone shakes her head a little at the conversation between Pete and Becca, 
   turning back to Bill and Elspeth with a drag on her cigarette, her 
   expression becoming speculative again.
Elspeth Summers grins, "Yeah, but me and her only just met out there in the 
   park. I don't know where you're meanin'.
Becca clenches her hand back into a fist as she takes a step toward Bill. "Get 
   over it, Tex, and answer the fucking question, all right. I mean, fucking 
   Christ, what's wrong with you."
Bill looks at the floor and stays quiet.
Pete Barlow lets out another heavy sigh and shakes his head, looking over at 
   JJ with a shrug.
JJ Malone's temper finally snaps a little as she looks between Bill and Becca. 
   "Alright, you fuckwits, what the hell is going on."
Elspeth Summers says quietly, "Maybe he's never had a *nigger* *woman* kick 
   his ass for him..."
Bill looks over at Elspeth with a look firey enough to possibly peel a coat of 
   primer off a car.
Elspeth Summers's voice is ice to Billy's fire. "Bein' as how we're all 
   werewolves, don't you tihnk that other shit is just something we ought to 
   all forget? If I'm a werewolf, you don't want me angry at you, right?"
Becca says edgily, "I'm teaching Tex here some fucking manners, so he can act 
   like a normal human being instead of some inbred hillbilly freak." She'd go 
   on, but that sudden hate she catches in Bill's eyes cause her to stop and 
   watch a moment.
Bill is pretty blunt about the matter. "Shu' up," he saysm then looks away 
   from the nigger.
JJ Malone is up and out of her chair in a heart beat as she takes in the 
   exchange, nearly shearing her cigarette between teeth suddenly clenched 
   tightly in a locked jaw. "*I'll* take him if you don't, El," she mutters 
   starkly, her own anger blazing up.
Elspeth Summers half turns away, and then pulls a roundhouse maneuver, hand 
   extended to slap some sense into the kid rather than an actual fist.
Bill apparently didn't expect the black woman to have the audacity to touch 
   him and is, once again, battered while his guard is down. he falls to the 
   floor, dropping his cigarette, and is up in an instant to lunge at Elspeth.
Becca starts backing up, quickly, until her butt hits against the front edge 
   of the stage. It's the first time she's seen Bill fight back over anything.
"Sit down, Shades," says Barlow quietly though loud enough to be heard. "This 
   ain't for you." The big Gnawer crosses his arms over his chest and watches.
JJ Malone completely ignores Pete's order, and jumps into the fray, although 
   it seems by her initial movements that she's attempting to subdue, rather 
   than hurt, trying to grab at the kid's shoulders.
Pete Barlow shakes his head and moves as well into the fray, though his target 
   seems to be Malone.
Elspeth Summers hardly wanted to fight, but as Shades steams past, she's left 
   where she is, and with a hardened look of determination, slowly wills her 
   features to transform. She gains height and loses evolution, morphing into 
   something new.
Elspeth Summers contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Elspeth Summers shifts into Glabro form.
Becca braces her arms against the elevated floor of the stage, still facing 
   outwards, and then pushes up to sit on the edge of the stage. From there 
   she moves into a crouch along the edge.
At a mere touch from Shades, the furious Gnawer cub seems to slip or trip or 
   be set off balance. He falls to the floor with a resounding *thud*, but is 
   rapidly working on getting up to teach the nigger her place.
Rob comes in through the reinforced door over which an old exit sign still 
   glows.
JJ Malone moves once again to try to grab Bill by the shoulders while he's 
   down literally at her feet in a whipcrack voice she says, "Cut the crap, 
   kid!"
Rob slides into the auditorium through the alley door, and rubs his hands 
   briskly together as the (relative) warmth of the place begins to seep into 
   his bones. The scuffle distracts him from getting too comfortable, however, 
   and one can almost begin to watch the mental gears snap into fast mode as 
   he begins to take hurried steps in the direction of his fellow Gnawers.
Elspeth Summers snarls something. ~Leave it.~
Pete Barlow's motion, coming as it did after JJ's movement into the fray, has 
   a distinctly "bouncer" feel to it, though intially slower than JJ. The drop 
   and thud don't stop him, though, and Barlow reaches out for JJ in a 
   maneuver that promises (possibly) to yank her away from the Gnawer boy.
Bill struggles like a psychotic madman against Shades' attempt at restraining 
   him from getting at Elspeth. Hands scrabble across the floor seeking a 
   purchase, then one comes down hard and carves furrows into the floor as the 
   Beast is set free.
Bill contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Bill shifts into Crinos form.
Mosh comes in through the reinforced door over which an old exit sign still 
   glows.
Elspeth Summers decides not to have human skin for Bill ot object to at all 
   any more...
Elspeth Summers contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Elspeth Summers shifts into Crinos form.
JJ Malone begins voicing, "Holy Sh--" as Bill begins shifting under her, any 
   reaction she might've had arrested by Pete's sudden and untimely 
   interference in her restraint, breaking her grip on the cub through 
   superior strength, and getting thrown off. "--it!" she finishes as she hits 
   the ground, and begins growling angrily as she rolls out of it and shifts 
   in an eyeblink to her breed form.
JJ Malone contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
When Pete grapples for JJ, Rob's indecision evaporates; he yanks a short, 
   ugly-looking weapon, a sawed-off double-barrelled shotgun, from somewhere 
   underneath that overcoat, and levels it at Elspeth's suddenly-crinos body. 
   "Settle the fuck down," he thunders, his eyes burning as he hastens across 
   the auditorium, "or I turn your head into a canoe!"
You shift into Crinos form.
Becca isn't anywhere near the fight, not in a relative sense, at least. While 
   the auditorium floor erupts in sudden violence, she scoots away from the 
   edge of the stage, still firmly in homid, still just watching.
Night-Broadcast back-pedals another few feet away from the press of Garou and 
   sets into a basic readiness sort of a stance. Only then can she even begin 
   to turn round and look in the direction of the new shout.
Bill, free of the troubling weight of Shade on his back, scrabbles awkwardly 
   to all fours. The unfamiliarity with the form doesn't mean that the raw 
   muscles and bulk are harmless as he presses onwards on all fours, like an 
   animal, towards the crinos Elspeth with murderous intent.
Rob continues his rush towards the fight, making every effort to interpose 
   himself between Night-Broadcast and Bill. He alternates the withering glare 
   between both, as well as the focus of the shotgun's aim.
Mosh enters the old theatre at the back of the auditorium, along one side. As 
   he doesn't yet notice anything going on about the stage because his 
   headphones are blaring, sounding like radio static from the distance.
Night-Broadcast's expression of open non-aggression turns to one of almost 
   panic as she meets the eyes of the stranger, and she fights the urge to 
   embarrass herself by fleeing.
Shades growls a rebuke at Pete, then attempts to tackle the cub from behind 
   once more, his threat seeming to be more imperative, especially given the 
   homid Rob seeming more intent on Elspeth and in the way of the frenzied 
   Bill.
Bill seems to have completely missed Rob's presence, so fixed on ripping 
   Elspeth apart. He charges blindly at her.
Pete Barlow contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Pete Barlow shifts into Crinos form.
Rather than actually firing his hand-cannon at Bill, Rob hurls the contents of 
   his left hand at the frenzied cub. It's a humble rock, looking more like a 
   charred piece of building debris than anything else. He lets Pete deal with 
   Shades.
Chugs rises swiftly into the warform, his own Rage lit on fire by Shade's 
   taking the form. With an enormous roar that threatens to set loose a 
   ceiling tile or two, Chugs roar-growls ~Stop! Now!~ The roaring growl 
   carries with much richer meaning than the words along that translates to: 
   dominant male in his territory.
Bill is hit in the side by Rob's piece of debris. Amazingly, the small hunk 
   knocks the frenzied cub over onto his side and several feet across the 
   ground. The beast scrambles to get back to its paws again with a brief 
   shaking of its head.
Rob follows through on his throw by pistol-whipping Bill with the heavy twin 
   barrels of the sawed-off as the cub tries to rise. He does this as many 
   times as seem to be required to convince the child that staying down is in 
   his best interests.
Chug's bellow seems to rattle Mosh somewhat, and the punk's attention is 
   brought to the stage and the confrontation there in a heartbeat. His 
   headphones are swept free from his head, too, and he starts forward, slowly 
   at first, but gaining a bit of speed as he nears.
Night-Broadcast shakes free, her gaze her own to direct once more, and 
   retreats yet further, balling her fist and drawing back her long, furry arm 
   in readiness to lash out at the first of these crazies who tries to come 
   near her.
Bill is fallen upon by Shades while he is still down. Despite his maddened 
   efforts to break free from the Walker, he is simply out wrangled by the 
   Fostern. The entire scene looks something like a comic Garou Bronco-busting 
   rodeo.
Shades's ears flicker at Chugs's order, but now that she has a fresh grip on 
   Bill, she seems unwilling to let him go. There seems no attempts to 
   actually damage the cub going on, using weight and strength in attempt to 
   subdue, including one hand going to the cubs neck and trying to hold his 
   head down to the ground.
Becca has, by this point, worked her own gun out of her pocket, for all the 
   good it will do. While the massive brawl wages on below, she's safe from 
   danger, up on the stage. Somehow, the expression on her face makes it seem 
   that she's convinced she'll be blamed for this.
When Shades piles on top of Bill, Rob takes it as lisence to bulk up; he takes 
   the Glabro shape, attempting to pin Bill's throat to the floor with one 
   foot while trying to force the muzzle of his gun up Shades' nose. "You 
   heard the man," he snarls. "Cut this shit out. Enough's enough. Get off the 
   kid before I paint the wall behind you red."
Rob contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Rob shifts into Glabro form.
Bill's lupine face becomes intimately acquainted with the floor with Shades' 
   timely assistance. Instincts seem to take over as his neck is grabbed near 
   the throat and he ceases struggling.
Chugs's ear-splitting growl (or headphone splitting as the case may be) only 
   pushes the powerful ahroun forward into the thick of evening's festive 
   cub-thrashing. Chugs swings his muzzle at Rob, barking an angry ~Back it 
   off,~ to the half-moon, but momentum takes him to stand over Shades and the 
   momentarily docile cub. ~Party's over.~
Night-Broadcast's growl is a soft one, mostly for her own benefit. ~And I 
   thought the Alpha wasa Fianna...~
Becca, from her spot on the stage, slips the handgun back into her jacket 
   pocket with as little fanfare as when she drew it.
Rob lifts his shoulders in a slight shrug and takes a single step back, 
   removing his cannon from the area of Shades' face. He does, though, keep 
   his eyes and his aim trained on the unfamiliar Garou, and keeps one foot on 
   Bill to keep the kid down.
Mosh is now just ten or fifteen yards from the knot of posturing Gaoru, and, 
   probably becAuse he's seen his packmate's gun come out, his weapon is drawn 
   as well (and as ineffectively). "What the fuck?" he says to Becca, quickly 
   and obviously confused.
Shades makes a reflexive bat at the muzzle of a gun trying to suddenly go 
   where gun muzzles don't belong, her other hand not leaving the cub's neck. 
   By posture at least she seems to both register and agree with Chugs's 
   comment as he winds up near her. Now that Bill's settled down, she has as 
   well, and she very cautiously begins to loosen her grip on the pinned cub, 
   trying to get up without giving him a chance to go after Elspeth again.
Becca says, concisely, "Tex figured out he was werewolf."
Chugs swings his muzzle around as he looks at the paused garou before swinging 
   it back at Shades. ~Off the cub. Now.~ Tension runs along the powerful 
   ahroun's shoulders, the moon reflected in his eyes and claws.
Bill seems fairly docile until, as Shades' hand is slowly removed. With a 
   start, the ahroun cub leaps to life again and then, as Shades reaffirms his 
   grip on the cub's neck, he goes limp once more.
Shades growls softly. ~Someone tell him to chill.~
Chugs watches the interaction, the flaring of the cub, and then the elder 
   Gnawer's expression darkens, his attention going to Becca and Mosh. ~He's 
   /your/ fucking cub. Get down here.~
Night-Broadcast's stance relaxes a little, but her form certanily doesn't go 
   through any changes. Even so, she looks like she could be about the most 
   chilled person in the place right now.
Rob lifts his foot from Bill's neck and brings it down once, hard, on the 
   kid's forehead. This is apparently his idea of telling a frenzied Garou to 
   'chill'. He manages to do this without ruining his aim particularly.
Chugs swings his head around hard, barking sharply at Rob. ~Once more and 
   you'll deal with me.~ Chugs swings his head back toward the Becca and Mosh.
Becca says, quickly, "I didn't *do* any-fucking-thing, Chugs, Jesus Christ." 
   She does move, to the edge of the stage and then off it, a short hop to the 
   floor. "Tex, give it up, kid, it's pointless."
Bill stays on the floor, subdued, and breathing heavily.
Mosh gives a short shake of his head for Becca, then his gun disappears, just 
   like her's, and he finishes his approach. Stopping at the outside of the 
   conflict, and looking just once toward the angry Gnawer Alpha, he mutters 
   under his breath. "C'mon, Tex," he adds to Becca's wisdom.
Shades holds the cub down for a couple of heartbeats, then begins loosening 
   her grip, very slowly. ~Just try to calm him down, Steps, you can do the 
   'not my fault' later.~
Bill contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Bill shifts into Homid form.
Rob's answer is perfectly calm, and not in the least intimidated by Chugs' 
   snarl. If anything, Rob's got a knack for out-intimidating people, for his 
   own remark is far, far more cool, calculated, and dangerous-sounding. "If 
   you're letting a couple of non-tribe sacks of shit thrash on a Gnawer cub, 
   Pete, then *you'll* deal with *me*."
Night-Broadcast says, ~Non-tribe sacks of shit? You sort out your facts, 
   stranger -- you'll find you're owing us an apology already, so don't 
   fucking make it any worse for yourself!~
Becca gives a short whistle, like she's calling a dog. "Tex, get over here, 
   c'mon, now," she says, tension creeping into the tone as it looks like 
   things aren't quite over yet.
"I got your apology right here, cunt," Rob mutters, lowering his aim almost 
   with the same speed that Shades climbs off Tex.
Shades contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
You shift into Glabro form.
Bill reverts back to his breed form, naked save for a strip of what is left of 
   his jeans that must have given him a horrid wedgie. He lays flat on the 
   ground, panting from exertion, and looking somewhat dazed from it all.
Showing remarkable control, Chugs doesn't turn immediately toward Rob, not 
   until he sees the cub go into homid. That issue momentarily settled, the 
   Gnawer ahroun swings slowly around toward Rob. Seeing the motion and 
   hearing the words of Rob, Chugs moves into motion, incredibly fast speed 
   carrying him at the half-moon in low-ducked move that promises, if 
   successful, to bring his crinos form into and onto the Gnawer half-moon.
Night-Broadcast very pointedly folds her great forelimbs across her chest.
Shades shifts down to glabro, following Bill's shift only a fraction of time 
   after he does. Rob's comment causes her head to snap up and bare her teeth 
   reflexively. After another second, she springs to her feet, letting Wharf 
   Rats and Chugs deal with Bill if he shifts again. Rob and Elspeth has her 
   attention now.
Becca shouts out, "Mosh, go grab the fucking dumbass cub before they squash 
   him!"
Long distance to Night-Broadcast: Shades notes something for you. To women, 
   being called that is usually enough to cause the human equivalent of frenzy.
Mosh slides closer to his packmate, the steps smooth and instinctual. His gaze 
   tightens up, his eyes going hard, and he shoots a gaze around at everyone 
   in turn. That is, until Chugs flies into motion and he lets out an 
   oh-so-eloquent, "-Fuck- me."
By the manner of Rob's reaction to Chugs' sudden charge, it's entirely 
   possible that he was expecting exactly this: the lowering of the shotgun's 
   aim appears to have been calculated, and both barrels discharge 
   simultaneously into Chugs' body mass. Whatever this may have done to the 
   Ahroun, though, Rob goes down under the momentum of the attack.
Shades is back up into crinos as the weapon goes off, although with how Chugs 
   winds up over Rob anything she might actually do is curtailed. She takes up 
   a position, growling, near the two Fostern Gnawers, as if just *waiting* 
   for Rob to make it out from under Chugs for a second go-around. Until then, 
   she is waiting to see what happens between the two.
Despite the power of the shotgun blasts, only one barrel of which seems to 
   have actually found its mark, Chugs' powerful motion takes Rob to the 
   ground, the crinos atop the glabro. In a motion swift and powerful, 
   terribly dominant, Chugs has Rob by the throat, jaws poised as blood pours 
   down onto the half-moon.
Shades contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
You shift into Crinos form.
Despite dominance displayed by Chugs, Rob glares defiance up into the Ahroun's 
   eyes. "You gonna throat me for looking after tribe, Pete? You gonna throat 
   me for trying to keep a pair of assholes from pounding a kid that, might I 
   remind you, *you* were trying to protect too? Or's the boss allowed to have 
   double-standards in this town?" He doesn't struggle particularly, 
   apparently having been held like this more than once. "Get the fuck off me, 
   Pete."
Shades growls contemptuously at Rob. ~You don't even know what was going on.~ 
   That much said, and seeing that Pete has things well in hand, she backs 
   off, looking away from that scene to Wharf Rats and Bill, trying to get her 
   bridling rage under control.
Chugs growls, low and pained, his warform heavy on the half-moon. ~Submit~ is 
   all that issues from the ahroun's throat, though anyone close might see the 
   jaws draw together slightly, not enough to break flesh, but definitely 
   pressure that threatens to.
Mosh grunts and shuffles forward to reach for Bill, trying to get him back and 
   out of the way. He watches the cub carefully, not wanting to elicit another 
   change.
Bill slowly begins peeling himself off the floor. Aided by Mosh, this is 
   accomplished relatively easily, and he is soon moved out of the way. He 
   looks at the monsterous figures as he departs from their immediate vicinity.
Shades contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
You shift into Homid form.
JJ Malone manages, slowly, to shift down by a force of will, settling back 
   into homid with a ragged gasp of breath that is let out slowly. She shakes 
   her limbs out and looks back to the pair of Gnawers on the floor, backing 
   another couple of paces away.
Becca says, in an aside meant for Mosh, but easily overheard by the others, 
   "Well, I finally got him to shift."
Rob goes red and his eyes begin to bulge. Blood begins to stream from the 
   places where Chugs' teeth break the flesh of his throat as he starts to 
   turn purple. Despite this, and the obvious pain and discomfort that must 
   accompany it, there is no submission in his body, only defiance. Right up 
   until the moment he passes out from lack of air.
Chugs slowly releases his jaws from the half-moon's throat, one heavy paw 
   shifting to rest (rather lightly) on Rob's chest as Pete moves slightly 
   into a half-crouch over his tribemate. The other paw reaches up to Chugs' 
   own still bleeding chest but not before flicking the shotgun away, 
   powerfully away. ~Fuckin' gonna pick shot for a week.~
Rob contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Rob shifts into Homid form.
~OK -- now someone wake him up again,~ Broadcast growls.
Pack> Chugs says "It wasn't really argued out. Just decided. He wanted to 
   exert 'staredown' over Pete. I simply said there isnt much chance of Pete 
   meeting him eye to eye, not with his head turned to wrap his jaws around 
   Rob's throat."
JJ Malone takes another deep breath, then grunts. "C'mere, Chugs. Least I can 
   do is keep you from setting off the metal detectors."
~Shut the fuck up,~ growls Barlow though something in the tone isn't quite 
   sincere, perhaps the minor note of pain, perhaps the open frustration.
Mosh makes no move to act, toward Chugs or Rob. He simply helps Bill to a seat 
   near the stage, out of the way, and frowns toward Becca. "Good," is all he 
   says as response to her remark.
Bill slumps into the seat by the stage and merely stares at the bizarre events 
   occuring in the room.
JJ Malone puts her hands on her hips, a flash of annoyance going across her 
   face. "If you *want* to be picking shot out of you for a week, go right 
   ahead..." she trails off, a non-spoken re-iteration of her offer.
Night-Broadcast's eyes narrow, but she remains where she was, expectant. The 
   stranger takes up all her attention, however, the redneck being as good as 
   forgotten -- or just possibly, pointedly ignored.
Chugs contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Rob's breathing is hoarse and ragged, one of the bloody tooth-marks dug into 
   his throat even bubbling slightly. He doesn't even begin to stir.
Chugs shifts into Glabro form.
Becca, still a little on edge with all this shifting and confrontation, nudges 
   her packmate lightly. "C'mon, let's get Tex out of here before shit gets 
   stirred up again."
Pete Barlow moves down into glabro, hand still on the chest of the half-moon. 
   He re-focuses on Rob and reaches down with a bloody hand to grab the 
   philodox by the waistband of his trousers/pants. He gives them a slight 
   jerk and lifts Rob up slightly off the ground. "Come on, Rob. Breathe you 
   son of a bitch."
As he is shook, Rob heaves a series of slightly bloody coughs before 
   collapsing back to the floor with a mumble.
JJ Malone seems to continue to be aware of the three cliaths, and glances over 
   that way as Becca makes to go. She says in a clipped tone, "He okay?"
Mosh nods and moves again to pull Bill to his feet. "C'mon, Tex, we're movin' 
   out. Follow the chica," he mutters, one final glance going over his 
   shoulder toward Pete before.
Night-Broadcast says, ~If you Garou go, there'll be no one neutral to tell 
   this one,~ and here she almost looks like spitting, ~what had been 
   happening here.~
Bill gets one final look before his feet start working and following the other 
   Wharf Rats.
Pete Barlow looks back down at Rob and gives him another shake, same procedure 
   since the first attempt caused something to happen anyway. Barlow looks 
   over, though, as he sees the trio making their move. "She's right. Wait."
Becca gets maybe five steps before she realizes something of passing 
   importance. "Shit, clothes. He can't go out like that."
Rob, at this point, does begin to stir. Another minute and he actually sits 
   up, dazed and rubbing at his throat.
Night-Broadcast paces over to Shades and incongruously leans down to tap her 
   packmate on the shoulder. ~Got a smoke while we wait for fuckwit to come 
   out of it?~
JJ Malone glances back sharply at the tap, then looks back at the three kids 
   while digging her pack out, flicking one halfway out the top and offering 
   it back over her shoulder to Broadcast. She repeats for the cliaths a 
   little louder and more pointedly, "'S he okay?"
Night-Broadcast's claws pierce the filter tip getting the cigarette out, but 
   she doesn't appear to care.
Becca partially turns, about to jog back downstairs and swipe something from 
   below for the cub to where. She was so intent on making good on the 
   'escape' that she misses at least half the comments directed in the trio's 
   direction, until JJ's raised voice cuts through. "Huh, who... oh, Tex. 
   Yeah, he's still breathing, he's all right."
Pete Barlow lets Rob sit up, of course, having backed away a couple steps. He 
   looks at his bare torso, the rags of his white tanktop T long scattered on 
   the auditorium floor. "Fuck." He touches the still open gut wound, wincing 
   and whining audibly. "Shit, Rob, you didn't have to blast my damned guts 
   with that stick of yours."
Mosh says, irritation and stress plain in his voice, "-Yeah-, he's fuckin' 
   fine, already." Then, to Becca, "Hurry an let's get."
JJ Malone pulls out a cigarette for herself and lights first it, then holds 
   the lighter up for Elspeth while she exhales a plume of smoke. Mosh gets a 
   pissed-off look, but then she says to Becca tersely, "Good." That's it. She 
   turns to look back at Pete and Rob, shifting on her feet restlessly.
Night-Broadcast says, ~Is -- Steps, was it? -- Steps not going to explain what 
   we two Glass Walkers were doing with her cub? This one doesn't seem likely 
   to take it on *our* word...~
Bill hovers between the two youthful Gnawer cohorts, completely out of his 
   element.
Night-Broadcast leans down for a light, careful of her muzzle fur, and takes a 
   couple of barely effective puffs as she stares at Becca to wait for her 
   response. Muzzles just aren't made for sucking on cigarettes.
Perhaps surprisingly, or perhaps not, Rob goes to retrieve the rock that he 
   bounced off Bill's forehead before he even appears to give the shotgun any 
   thought. This, when he finds it, he returns to a pocket of his overcoat. 
   Pete's remark elicits from him an apologetic grunt and little else, but he 
   stops what he's doing abruptly when Night-Broadcast speaks. "I know damn 
   well what you were doing, you dumb fucking slag cunt," he rasps out. "You 
   and the Blues Sister were about to go shithouse on the kid 'cause he'd just 
   hit his Change. Only you maybe forgot that it takes one Garou usin' fists, 
   not two with claws, to take down a cub."
Night-Broadcast says, ~Shut your mouth until you know Thing One about what was 
   going on, Shitheap!~
JJ Malone instantly begins growling again angrily at the insult to Elspeth, 
   her fists clenching and wiry muscles bunching and cording. This time the 
   freshly lit cigarette *is* bit through at the filter, but she manages to 
   restrain herself. Barely.
Night-Broadcast takes two paces towards the man, having showed more 
   self-restraint than any Crinos should ever have to.
Re-infuriated, Rob bulks up to crinos. ~Let's go, you goddamn lump of shit.~ 
   It's maybe a little odd to see such abject hatred and contempt for another 
   being radiating from a Bone Gnawer.
Rob contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Night-Broadcast barks out, ~Steps!~
Rob shifts into Crinos form.
Becca mutters something to Mosh and Bill, then more runs then jogs toward the 
   door leading downstairs. Rob's words, coupled with the marvelous effect 
   they have on the Walkers, spur the motion, and only Elspeth's shout causes 
   her to skid to a stop in front of the door.
Sorry, that player is not connected.
Pete Barlow looks over at Rob, not shifting this time, not yet. ~Back down, 
   Rob, or I'll kill you this time. You talk to my packmates, and you don't 
   know what you're talking about.~ There is no equivocation in the ahroun's 
   voice, only straightforward assertion of his authority in his territory.
Bill doesn't need any further encouragement from either Wharf Rat as he 
   scampers after Becca.
Mosh pushes a hand against Bill's back anyway, urging him even though Becca's 
   stopped at the door.
Night-Broadcast says, ~I am Broadcast, Half Moon Fostern of the Glass Walkers, 
   and I run with the Untouchables. Who are you, and how the hell did you make 
   it past puberty?~
JJ Malone bristles, but then snaps out, "Becca! Get your ass over here!"
Caught off-guard by Pete's support landing on Night-Broadcast's side, Rob 
   shifts down to glabro. He answers Night-Broadcast's introduction with an 
   equally-contemptuous one of his own. "I'm Rock-Tosser, half-moon fostern of 
   the Bone Gnawers, and I *don't* run with Untouchables, I'm awfully fucking 
   happy to say. I made it past puberty by kicking the shit out of motherless, 
   honorless, Glass Walkers with their heads up their asses, like yourself."
Rock-Tosser contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Rock-Tosser shifts into Glabro form.
Becca shoves Bill, hurried but not too rough, toward the door leading down 
   backstage. "Find something and make yourself decent, Tex. And don't fuck 
   with Chugs' shit while you're there." She then turns, obediently, in 
   response to JJ, jogging back next to Mosh and not liking this whole scene 
   too much, from the looks.
Bill exits backstage.
Night-Broadcast says, ~Kick the shit out of me and it'll be the last time you 
   say 'Honorless' without it coming out as a jackal's squeal. You're wrong 
   -just fucking wrong -- about evrything that's happened here. *Ask* them.~
"I said that's enough!" barks Barlow again, wincing as he exertion brings the 
   pain of the shotgun wound back to his attention. "Stop the fuckin' name 
   calling, ego shit." The Gnawer ahroun looks again at Rob. "/I/ run with 
   Untouchables," he says, emphasis square and straightforward. At Broadcast's 
   return, he growls again. "Enough!" Pete shoots a look at Becca, a look that 
   seems to say 'start talkin'.
Bill leaves the auditorium through the door at the right of the stage.
JJ Malone bristles with surpressed anger and glowering contempt, then turns to 
   find Becca and watch her approach, waiting for her to take center stage, 
   figuratively speaking. She continues to shift on her feet, hands clencing 
   and unclenching in slow, steady rhythm.
Becca knows enough to know when to start talking, even if it is from a safe 
   distance next to her packmate. "Tex is a fucked-up Gnawer, didn't believe 
   he was a werewolf, couldn't shift, yadda yadda," she says, and so much for 
   Rob's 'request' that she not talk bad about the cub. "He was giving 
   whats-her-name, Elspeth, a shitload of attitude, so she smacked him. Then 
   the shit hit the fan. The Walkers didn't draw a lick of blood, though."
Bill comes in through the door to the right of the stage at the front of the 
   theater.
Mosh makes sure Bill is safely away before he turns back to the others. His 
   face is blank, his stance neutrally tense -- he's not offering support to 
   either side, even though he knows full well where the advantage lies.
Rob folds his arms across his chest. "Don't threaten me, you cocksucker," he 
   growls at Night-Broadcast. "Even on an empty stomach, I shit bigger than 
   you." With that said, he turns and looks (relatively) askance at Pete. "You 
   tell me that I didn't see these two trying to beat down the kid. You tell 
   me that I didn't see you try to stop that one from jumping in." He 
   indicates JJ with a slight lift of his chin. "You tell me that these two 
   know better than a Gnawer how to teach a Gnawer." At Becca's explanation, 
   he asks, "What was he giving her attitude for?"
Night-Broadcast remains silent, if only to let Chugs's -- anyone's -- 
   authority hold until sense is made of this whole thing. She keeps looking 
   at Becca, though, as if expecting more.
Pete Barlows' eyes narrow at Rob and he shakes his head. "I thought you were 
   fuckin' smarter than this." The big Gnawer opens his hands, palms up with 
   frustration. "One, I said to knock the name calling off. Two, you saw 
   somebody getting ahold of a frenzied cub. Three, you didn't see no Walker 
   teachin' no Gnawer cub shit."
Becca says, "He's from Bumfuck, Alabama, and he won't listen to anyone who's 
   black. That was his whole fucking problem." She hesitates, almost doesn't 
   continue but after a look at the two Walkers drags it all out, her side at 
   least. "I called it on him before, that's the only time anyone drew blood 
   on him. In here, I decided to push it, see if it could get him pissed 
   enough to shift. And it did."
JJ Malone snorts derisively, then says apparently to Elspeth although she's 
   looking at Rob. "Helluva halfmoon, alright. Tried, convicted, and punished 
   already." It seems that only some sort of respect for Pete and Broadcast's 
   cues seems to be keeping her at bay.
Maybe reason doesn't come across too well from an eight-foot monster -- but 
   why ever she does it, Broadcast finally exerts herself to take the pain of 
   shifting and return to her Homid form.
Night-Broadcast contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Night-Broadcast shifts into Homid form.
Elspeth Summers also finally comes back from where her continued retreating 
   took her, halfway across the space between the front seats and the stage, 
   and rejoins her packmates.
Rob gives Pete a jaded, careless, weary shrug. He lights a bent cigarette, 
   takes a long drag, and then, pointedly ignoring the pair of Glass Walkers, 
   steps over towards the Gnawer Ahroun. "Look me in the eye and tell me that 
   I'm full of shit, that I didn't watch you jump in, trying to stop 
   whats-her-nuts from getting on top of the cub." It's a sincere-sounding 
   offer.
JJ Malone puts her hands on her hips, elbows akimbo. Loud enough to be heard 
   only unless being intentionally ignored, she says pointedly, with anger, 
   "The name's Malone. J.J. Malone. Fostern Glass Walker ahroun."
Bill comes back up the stairs wearing a pair of purple pants and a lime-green 
   polyester sportcoat. He stays just inside the doorway to backstage.
Becca rocks back on her heels, and darts a glance over her shoulder at the 
   door Bill disappeared down. "Tex needs to fucking dress faster," she 
   mutters under her breath to Mosh. While she waits, the confrontation 
   between the two older Gnawers holds most of her attention.
Pete Barlow looks squarely at Rob, eyes meeting the half-moon's. "You're full 
   of shit." That said, Barlow takes a deep breath. "What you didn't see is 
   what you should be worried about, Rob. Cub goes ballistic on Ellie there 
   and you expect her to do nothing? You expect her packmate," he indicates 
   JJ, "to do nothing. They've been together for a while. You know how that 
   kind of instinct can be. Or you should." Irritated, disappointed, and in 
   pain, Pete looks over at Shades. "And her? You saw me try to keep her out 
   of what should have been a lesson in how /we/ work. A lesson for the cub. 
   But no, everybody's got to be a gawddamned dominant son of a bitch around 
   here." He looks back, squarely again at Rob. "I'm the gawddamned dominant 
   son of a bitch here," he says pointing to the ground. "And /you/ need to 
   cool your fuckin' jets."
"And we," Elspeth comes in as Pete finishes, "were helpin' out a Gnawer who 
   came to us despairin' over a pernickity cub. *I* took his racist shit just 
   so far before decidin' that I wasn't goin' to be able to do anythin' on the 
   friendly side of things. What we managed to do instead -- convince him he 
   is what he is -- would count as a good evening's work in anybody's book."
Mosh keeps watching, shrugging once at Becca but otherwise lost in whatever 
   thoughts he's thinking about this.
Rob shakes his head slowly. "I know all about packs and bonds and instinct, 
   Pete," he begins, "and nothing I know excuses what I saw. *Nothing*. Any 
   Garou who's so out of control that she jumps in on a *cub* in order to 
   'protect' her packmate ought to be put down. I know it; you know it. That's 
   why you jumped in." He pauses there, takes another long drag from his 
   cigarette, and exhales smoke in a long sigh, his own disappointment almost 
   echoing the Ahroun's. "You sure are the goddamned dominant son of a bitch 
   here, Pete. You sure are. It's just a shame that the Bone Gnawer boss is 
   the Glass Walkers' yes-man. I know I said I'd stick around and help you get 
   things square in the tribe, but if this is the way you're going to run 
   things, sorry, I ain't interested. I can't support you if what you do is 
   unsupportable." He doesn't wait for an answer, but instead turns towards 
   the two Glass Walkers. "If either of you two whores want a piece of me, 
   I'll be waiting outside." Then he turns again, now towards the door, and 
   begins to depart.
Elspeth Summers says forcefully, "I ain't fightin' no one who calls themselves 
   a Philodox and didn't even hear about Honorable Surrenders. Let's just not 
   see each other around, huh?"
Pete Barlow watches Rob walk away and simply shakes his head. "Arrogant son of 
   a bitch," is all he says as he watches the half-moon walk away.
Rob waves a single-fingered salute back in Elspeth's direction. "I'm obligated 
   to accept them, not to supply them, you fucking coward," he calls back. 
   Then he is gone.
Rob leaves through the exit door into the alley.
JJ Malone just shakes her head, not responding otherwise, looking away to not 
   even watch Rob leave. "Jesus fucking Christ," is her eloquently muttered 
   comment once he has.
Elspeth Summers still bristles -- the atmosphere isn't going to fade too 
   quickly, even after the rockthrower has gone. "Well he DID say he got his 
   rank by kicking people's asses for them. Obviously that's all he's good 
   for."
Mosh shakes his head again, muttering too low for anyone to hear. "Let's go 
   get Tex," he says, thwapping Becca's arm and turning toward the stage door. 
   Seeing Bill there in the doorway he nods. "C'mon, we're fuckin' leavin', 
   m'man."
Pete Barlow shakes his head and turns to look at Mosha, Becca, and Bill. "That 
   kinda behavior /ain't/ acceptable around here. No how. Now way." The big 
   gnawer walks over and leans against the stage. "Damn, I thought he was 
   gonna be the one. Damnit anyway."
Becca says, "I'll meet you back at the wharves, Mosh, Tex probably should get 
   home." Without bothering to wait to see what her packmate's reaction to 
   that is, she walks swiftly toward the door that Rob just vacated through.
Elspeth Summers, now she's shifted back, tugs out her own cigs again and 
   offers them around.
Bill sticks near Mosh as Becca departs, looking to him for leadership.
JJ Malone just shakes her head again at Elspeth, looks over at Mosh and Becca, 
   her brow furrowed, deep in thought. They, too, get a shake of her head, and 
   she begins swinging her arms wide, working off cumulated tension. "Well, 
   that was fun," she says sarcastically.
Becca leaves through the exit door into the alley.
Mosh grabs Bill's lime-green sleeve and starts pulling him toward the door. 
   "No trouble, chica. Be smart," he calls after Becca. With one more quick 
   glare back toward the elders by the stage, he and the cub are gone.
Mosh leaves through the exit door into the alley.
Bill leaves through the exit door into the alley.
"Get over here and start pickin'," growls Barlow as he winces out another 
   piece of shot.
JJ Malone's head snaps up and she snorts. "You want me to play doctor, you can 
   god damn well come over here. Christ, El, give me one of those, will yeah?"
"Fuck you," growls Barlow as he pushes up from the stage. "None of this shit 
   would've happened if you would keep your nose to your own business." Pete 
   stalks toward the door leading backstage and down into the basement 
   greenroom.
Elspeth Summers wordlessly offers the packet over, and looks at the back of 
   the retreating Ahroun with an expression of concern.
JJ Malone's voice is a combination of tiredness and the irritability of the 
   full moon. "Excuuuse us for trying to help Becca out. If you don't like the 
   fact that I'll help out my packmates, take it up with me instead of walking 
   way just like that asshole."
Elspeth Summers holds out a restraining arm, "I don't think that's what he 
   meant. Probably best we all just drop it."
JJ Malone heaves a deep sigh, face screwing up, but subsides at Elspeth's 
   restraint, turning her back away to half-sprawl, half-lean on the edge of 
   the stage.
Pete Barlow looks back as he opens the door. "I got buckshot to pick from my 
   damend gut, Shades. I ain't gonna do it sittin' here arguin' with you." 
   Barlow looks over at Elspeth and nods. "You're right again," and something 
   about the black woman being right draws Pete back toward the pair, despite 
   the pain and the need to pick out his stomach. "I don't mind you helpin' 
   out with cubs. We're too few, both tribes, around here to be picky about 
   that shit." He looks at JJ. "I /do/ mind you gang-bangin' on that cub. 
   Ellie could have done just fine... And taught the little idiot something."
JJ Malone turns back around, and spits out bitterly, "Jesus Christ, Pete. I 
   was trying to grab the kid to keep him from doing something stupid, not 
   beat the shit out of him. What kind of person do you think I am?"
Pete Barlow looks up from his stomach, tossing another piece of shot onto the 
   ground. "I don't know what kind of person you are, Shades. I just don't 
   know yet."
JJ Malone heaves a ragged, irritable sigh, then flops into a seat in the front 
   row and beckons Pete over. There's some conciliation in her posture and the 
   motion, the best olive-branch an ahroun can make under the circumstances. 
   "You're right. It's not my style to go 'round beating the shit out of 
   people for no reason, especially not pissant unChanged cubs."
Elspeth Summers says "Hell, tryin' to push a cub into a Change -- whether it's 
   the first or not -- is always heavy business, we just heaped a few extra 
   misunderstandings in there. Let's all forget it. What we need is somewhere 
   to do this shit instead of your place, Pete."
"He wasn't unchanged," says Pete as he takes up the olive branch and walks 
   over. "He's just stupid." Pete sits down on the edge of the seat next to 
   JJ, making himself easy pickings. Barlow nods to Elspeth. "Yeah. Probably. 
   What we need is to build a caern in St. Claire."
Elspeth Summers says "Hell, how can we think about bein' able to do that? I 
   mean -- is Gold-Sticks even still in town?" (This last directed to JJ). 
   "And would even he know about stuff like that?""
JJ Malone waves a hand irritably, as she hitches up from her seat to pull out 
   a Leatherman. "Unchanged, newly changed, does it really fucking matter? I 
   still wouldn't beat him up for no reason. Give me some credit, Chugs." She 
   concentrates, then uses the collapsible pliers to begin fishing for shotgun 
   pellets. There seems to be some amount of purpose to which wounds she digs 
   in, a pause between each one pulled out. To Elspeth's question, she 
   answers, "He's still around."
Pete Barlow glances over at Summers. "There are places here. Places we could 
   take care of. Get ready." He winces, whining openly at the probing of the 
   pliers.

---- Recall end ----