DATE: Tuesday, April 14, 1998 Place: Harbor Park ---- Recall start ---- Nigel is squatting at the base of a willow tree, taking a pinch of the soil and tasting it. He waves when he spots Shades. Undine's desc: This is a waterling, an undine, a spirit born of and carved from water. She varies from not much more than a ripple to a delicate crystalline woman with eyes like the sea. Nigel's desc: Nigel is a sandy-haired man in his early thirties with a gold-rimmed pair of spectacles and a scrawny build. His exposed skin is brown from a great deal of time spent outside, and his calloused hands and dirty nails would seem to indicate a person who earns his living through physical labor, but while some blue collar workers have cell phones and pagers on their belts, not so many have an emerald ring on their finger and a $2000 watch that measures barometric pressure. His usual expression can be described charitably as pensive, or (less kindly) as befuddled. Judging from his clothes, Nigel dresses in the dark. He wears a canary-yellow pullover on top of a lime-green t-shirt (with the words 'Suicide Squid' visible above his neckline), maroon jeans with frayed cuffs and patches on both knees, and thick Polarwear socks (one blue, one green) under a battered old pair of Reeboks which were white sometime in the past. There are a few such trees scattered about. One of them was apparently right near the edge of the ordinary river; now it's behind the sandbag barricades and looking distinctly ill. There's another one on the other side of the sandbags, pressed against the sacks. The lower branches on the river side have been sawed off, presumably to prevent climbers from falling into the swollen river. JJ Malone's desc: All but the least perceptive would notice that there's something not *quite* right with this person. J.J. is about 5'11" and around 140-150 pounds in a wiry, boxy form which gives no hint of gender. He appears to be in his early twenties, although it's hard to judge. His dark brown hair is cut short and tapered, parted to one side and brushed down smoothly. His facial features have a foreign cast under medium-dark, olive-toned skin, although the predominant feature is the black-rimmed mirrored sunglasses worn no matter the weather, time of day, or his location. He is dressed casually in a white T-shirt, ripped jeans, black leather jacket, and low-topped combat boots. JJ Malone crunches in, taking in the park in a lazy, sweeping glance, then heads for Nigel when he spots him by the willow. "You stand out like a sore thumb," he mutters without preamble. Nigel wipes his hands on his pants as he stands up, slightly nonplussed. "Too East Coast, you think? I've been considering getting my eyebrow pierced, but it'd be a pain keeping the hole open." "Clothes," the ahroun summarizes succintly. "You clash." Nigel looks down at himself and frowns thoughtfully. "Well, sure. It's the only way, sometimes. You ever owned a Brugmansia Inoxia?" JJ Malone's expression screws up in confusion. "Uh. No." Nigel nods, expecting this. "Climate's kinda moist around here for it. It's a 'Dr. Seuss' plant, big yellow flowers shaped like trumpets with red 'throats'. Hallucinogenic as hell, if you know how to extract the ingredients in just the right way, which I don't. It knows a lot, if you can decipher what it's saying, but it won't even *talk* to you unless it likes what you have on. To a Dr. Seuss, this" he indicates his outfit "is staid. So you see." Salem makes his way through the tall grass of the south. JJ Malone's mouth tightens, and he says drily and a hint of annoyance, "Except the rest of the world isn't out of Dr. Seuss. Anyway. You were going to be doing something." Like a dark thundercloud cloud given flesh, Salem stalks in from the southern part of the park, the ever-present lit cigarette dangling from his mouth. Nigel lifts a hand and waves, just in case Salem has any trouble spotting them. Davy makes his way down the disintegrating cement path, leaving the road behind. Salem pauses a step, then nods curtly in response to Nigel's wave and alters his course to intersect with the two Glass Walkers. His step is brisk and sharp, the rage glowering and snarling under his flesh like a rabid Doberman on a short leash. Davy comes running in from the direction of his pack's territory, the sweat soaking his grey T-shirt showing clearly that this is the end of a workout, not the beginning. As he sprints into the edge of the park, he finally begins to slow. His chest heaves like a bellows. JJ Malone is standing with Nigel, and now Salem, by a willow tree. Impatiently, he jerks his chin at Nigel. "So?" Nigel wanders away towards the tree with the limbs cut off, eyeing it clinically as he talks. "Either of you know much about this place?" Salem falls into step with the Walkers, hands in his coat pockets, the cigarette trailing a thin line of gray smoke. He grunts something noncommittal. JJ Malone shrugs his shoulders. "Used to be part of Untouchables, who has been watching over the place for a good while now. I'm out of touch of recent, but I know it pretty well." Davy comes up to one of the benches and begins stretching out his legs. The cluster of three Garou get a quick assessing glance, but the panting Fianna doesn't move over. Jayson makes his way down the disintegrating cement path, leaving the road behind. Nigel stops examining the bark and spots Jayson. "Oh, excellent." A taxicab pulls up outside of the park and a dark form steps out, pausing long enough to pay the fare. After waiting for the cab to pull away, the Walker checks his watch and starts slowly towards the park. Davy just continues stretching. His glance goes over Jayson without recognition. Jayson arrives at the gathering with a nod to those he knows. "Sorry I'm late, folks." The cigarette smolders in Salem's mouth, the embered end tilted downward. The muscles in his jaw are tight, his body language tense and curt. He nods to Jayson, uttering a grunt that, while not overflowing with warmth and love, isn't directly hostile, either. Undine given permission to view +sheet. Nigel smiles. "Good to see you here. Now," he continues, more softly, "can any of us Sense? I don't know how badly affected things are on the flipside, and extra warning will be useful." JJ Malone says without waiting, "The park's one of the best spots in the city." Jayson shakes his head slightly. "I've been taking notes from a Gnawer on sensing, but it took me a bit to filter out what was useful and what was nonesense. I think I can give it a whirl, though." Dillan wanders into the park, a bag in one hand announcing a recent visit to Burger King. Nigel gestures towards a corner of the construction that's out of sight of most of the rest of the park. "All right, then. With your permission, Shades, let's go." JJ Malone gives a scan around the place, then nods to Nigel. "Your show, I'll follow your lead." Davy gives the clump of Walkers another look, longer-lingering this time. He's still stretching his arms, but more idly now. He then rubs his skin as if the temperature is starting to get to him. Nigel heads for the secluded corner, gives a careful look around to make sure he's not attracted the attention of any norms, and pulls a small mirror out of his pocket. He begins staring into it. Salem's scowl deepens as he trails after the Walkers, taking the cigarette from his mouth. He flicks it onto the ground with one gesture, crushes it underfoot with another, and then pulls out a small hand mirror from within his coat. The Ronin takes a deep breath and then focusses his eyes on his reflection. Davy raises his eyebrows, but he doesn't follow. ---- The Walkers and Salem reach across ---- Umbra: Harbor Park Contents: Undine Salem Jayson Nigel Salem drags himself through the gauntlet with a visible exertion of will; by the time he's through, his face is contorted into an angry snarl. Stowing the mirror away, Salem glowers at the umbral landscape as though all his problems were its fault. Jayson shakes his head at Nigel. "Can't help you with that." The waters on this side are even higher, if that's possible. The river seems to loom over the landscape and the evening sky on this side is clouded and angry in the distance. The tree that had been standing in water on the Realm side has fallen over here, and the tree with the damaged limbs in the Realm seems to be weeping here, although it looks uninjured. Nigel heads towards the hurt tree with a look of distress. "Oh, this is *not* good. Jayson, check for Taint? Salem, Shades-rhya, keep an eye out for blobby things trying to eat us? I'll see if this poor guy's already awake." Jayson nods, as he shifts up to near-man form. He scans the area with furrowed brow, trying to sense any wyrm-taint in the area. Salem grunts an acknowledgement as he shifts upward into Glabro form. Fingers turned thick and meaty flex restlessly at his sides as dark eyes watch the environment with glowering suspicion. JJ Malone shifts up as well, jaw tightening so that pointed teeth are bared briefly at the honorific given to him. He pulls out his gun, though, and takes up a spot opposite Salem, scanning avidly. You have shifted to Glabro form. Shades mutters barely audible. "No one make any loud noises, by the way." Salem grunts. Nigel steps close to the tree, growing with each step. Once in full war-form, he pauses with a hand almost resting on the bark, and asks ~Earth-child, soil-drinker, are you awake? To help you, we need your wisdom.~ Nigel shifts into Crinos form. The tree does not respond, at least, not visibly. Jayson shudders visibly as he scans the area. His fists clench and unclench as the chilling sensations of the wyrm's presence soak his spirit. The results of his task are obvious, but he speaks them anyway. "I'm getting wyrm all over the place, here." Nigel grunts slightly. ~I'll try to make this fast, then. While I chant, Jayson, could you move widdershins around me, and howl each time I signal?~ Jayson nods, moving slowly and watching Nigel for his signal. From time to time, his eyes dart nervously to the area around them. Nigel crouches, sinks fingers and toes into the soil, closes his eyes and begins a deep, guttural chant. After an indeterminable time of chanting, the river ever looming, a low keening sound rises from the tree, and it shudders in its watersoaked earth. In the fountain, a slim feminine shape rises from the waters there. And around some of the more distant trees, small shapes scurry out to stare at the Garou. Then, in the river, a whirlpool slowly begins to form. Shades's attention focuses on the whirlpool, having been facing that way, and mutters, "'Ware the river." Salem's scowl only deepens, a curl of lip revealing pointed fangs. Graceful despite his bulk, the Ronin shifts his weight, turning to face the river, eyeing it suspiciously. Nigel looks at the river once, then turns away with a quick curse and addresses the tree. ~This pain, this taint--what can ease it? What must we do?~ Jayson glances towards the river, but most of his attention remains on Nigel and the tree, trusting the others to keep tabs on any impending danger. Shades snaps a little louder, without turning around himself, ~Keep a lookout the other way, Salem.~ Salem eyes Shades for a moment, and then grunts and moves to one side, positioning himself to watch for enemies from the other direction. His fingers continue to flex restlessly, and his teeth remain bared. The tree continues moaning softly, and then under the moan, there are words. *I hurt... the sap no longer runs through my fingers...* Shades continues to scan the riverfront and the movement in the foliage, trusting to Salem and the other two to guard his back. Water touches the feet of the river guardians, just barely. It's cold, almost icy. Nigel bends his head. ~Your fingers were hurt by people who feared the river. Fools, who did not know what they were doing. I apologize for them. If we could help the river return to normal, I would be able to come every day and help you heal.~ Shades dances back a couple of steps, growling softly for the wet feet. Salem bares his teeth like a dog and glares daggers at the water. Jayson watches Nigel for a few moments, before turning his attention towards the fountain and the spirit that appeared there. He approaches the fountain area slowly, speaking softly to the presence there. *We are here to make things right for the river again. To make her less angry. *We're here to make the river less angry. Can you help us?* The tree is moaning softly, and the water sloshes around the Garou's feet gently. *It isn't safe here for you. The river creeps inside with its poison blood...* "Fucking umbra," Salem mutters underbreath as he keeps an eye out for attacks from landside. The Ronin prowls slightly, tension evident in his manner. Shades backs up a little further, muttering imprecations about his beginning-to-be-waterlogged boots. Nigel takes a step, two steps back. *It's not safe for anyone; unless someone does something you'll fall like your relative. Where does the poison come from? What is it?* The tree branches shiver. *The blood. The rage, stirred by the wind. Don't you feel it, within you?* Nigel glances over his shoulder at JJ and Salem dubiously, then back to the tree. *We sense things differently, Tall One. What do you mean, 'stirred by the wind'?* The tree shivers even more violently. *You do not feel the wind, taste it with your fingers? It sings songs of rage and violence and the water that seeps in my blood knows the song well, although it has been silent so long.* And then, *His attention turns here.* There is a sense of urgency about the slowspeaking tree now. Nigel curses and steps back hastily. *Thank you. I will do what I can.* ~Time's up, folks--let's move! Quick!~ Salem's head snaps up at Nigel's shout, and his eyes flick toward Shades. Shades is beginning to move at Nigel's order, following him wordless and guarding their retreat. And indeed, there is a sense of something rising, something coming. There's an almost audible hum in the air. Nigel trots towards the spot where they first entered the Umbra. As he nears the fountain, he touches a claw to his forehead in salute to the Elemental there. *Ma'am* Salem spits out something vile in Serbian and follows the Walkers, nerves tight as rubber bands, just waiting to snap and let loose the rage. Nigel shifts into Homid form. The undine there trembles and dips her head quickly. Then she raises her head quickly, like an animal scenting a predator, and melts away into the water of her fountain. Nigel's eyes stop contemplatively on his reflection. Salem takes another deep breath, steeling himself for the grueling passes back across the gauntlet. Salem's eyes stop contemplatively on his reflection. Shades motions to Salem, his gun out and senses honed, to go before him. Jayson steps through as well. Suddenly, all sound drops away... Shades decides discretion is the better part of valor and with a quick look around, begins the reach through as well. Just as you slip through the gauntlet, you feel /something/ reach for you. It almost closes around you, and your passage through is slow, painful, almost stopped. And then, as your heart seems to stop, you're through. ---- Scene change for the action ---- Harbor Park Fountain Contents: Undine Salem Nigel Dillan Clean Benches Flowers "Close by?" Salem's dark eyes snap toward Nigel with all the good will of a slavering Grendel and then pan out over the park. "Fuck. Edge is closest, probably." Dillan coughs, conveniently enough advertising his presence to the Ronin. He's sitting up on top of one of the benches surrounding the fountain. Nigel says "Fuck. They don't know me from a hole in the ground. Run get help, fast as you can, while I try to get Shades through." Salem's eyes snap toward Dillan, and within a few strides the Ronin stalks up to the young Shadow Lord, one hand snapping out, rage-quick, to grab him by the shoulder. "You, prick." Nigel gets his mirror out of his pocket and peers at himself. Nigel's eyes stop contemplatively on his reflection. Dillan drums his fingers on his knee. He was expecting... something, although not prcisely this, given his short burst of startlement. "Y'know, if you want to motivate people, you gotta try a lot harder than 'You, prick.'" Nigel seems to shimmer momentarily, and then vanishes. Kyle makes his way down the disintegrating cement path, leaving the road behind. "Fuck yourself, you little bastard," Salem spits. "You call yourself a guardian of this fucking place? Do you /know/ what kind of shit is there on the other fucking side? Why the FUCK are you sitting on your ass?" Jason makes his way through the tall grass of the south. On cue, Kyle hoves into view by the gated entrance to the park. His cold eyes almost immediately draw a bead on the commotion, and he heads that way. Jason walks up freom the south and looks around the area, stopping before getting too close to much of anything. Dillan lets out a breath and pushes off the bench. "I know precisely what's up there, and s'why I ain't up there by myself. I ain't no stupid-ass chump. IF you think *you* can do anything about it by yourself, go 'head. Me, I'll wait for the crescent convention out rangerside figure this hit out. Knowledge is half the battle, punk." Kyle arrives at the scene in time to catch the tail end of Dillan's speech. He stands a few paces back, eyebrow raised, arms crossed over his chest, watching. Salem's fist snaps out toward Dillan's head, without warning, without hesitation, and far too damned fast to be human. Jayson says warningly and with authority to Salem, "Take it easy," before heading down to the riverside with a frown. Dillan catches the fist with his face, a far inferior choice to doing it with a forearm or something less likely to bleed so much. "Fuck me. S'it, biznatch, I'm gonna rip your eyes out and shove 'em down your pants so you can watch me kicking your ass." The Guardsmen down near the river side are starting to notice the altercation in the park; there are only a few of them, and there is a brief conversation among them. Kyle's shoulders roll slightly, and he stands a little taller, but except for a wry frown he doesn't offer much of a reaction. Salem seems more than ready. In fact, he seems disturbingly, frighteningly, psychotically eager to spread Dillan's guts across the park. "Anytime, you wasted little piece of shit. I'll rip your fucking prick off and shove it down your cocksucking throat." And into the middle of all this stumbles JJ, slowly shimmering into existance. Clothing and flesh has long gashes in it, from front to back, as if something tried to claw him back to the Umbra. He looks ten years older, and blood slowly trickles down his limbs and torso. Dillan just grins, as smug as possible as he stands, despite the blood leaking out of his nose. "S'it, then. Do your worst. C'mon, take me down, you big nasty bitch. Show me how tough you is. Chump." He gestures for the Ronin to bring it on. And the Ronin does exactly that. In a flash of movement faster than the eye can follow, Salem lunges at Dillan, fists pistoning out one-two-three-four in the time it takes for a startled onlooker to suck in a gasp, both rage and an Ahroun's trained instincts fueling the blows. Kyle stares for more than a few heartbeats as JJ appears practically in front of him. He then whistles quietly, stepping around Dillan and Salem to stand by the Walker's side. "Shit, JJ. What the hell happened?" JJ Malone is panting like he just got finished running a marathon in record time, bending over shakily as he gulps air. The sound of fighting grabs his attention before the questions, though. He looks up and takes in the scene, then sharply snaps out breathily, "Jack, can it before you blow it." He waves a hand at Kyle, betraying his weakness. "I don't know." Dillan manages to avoid the first wave of the Ronin's assault with a quick leap overtop the bench he'd been resting on to start with. The ahroun's rage-driven speed is more than the theurge can escape, though, and he starts sucking up the beatdown. Poorly. The Guardsmen continue to cluster nervously, watching the beating, but the Curse is keeping them from investigating the violence too closely right now. One of them starts speaking into a cellular phone, though. Salem finishes off with a brutal kick toward the young Lord's knee and is about to follow this up with another fist to the face when Malone's command reins him in, sharply. Face contorted into a hateful snarl, he restrains himself with an exertion of will and steps back. Kyle's lip curls in a snarl as the fight draws to a stop. His cold eyes take in the Guardsmen, but in the main he stays focused on JJ. "What the hell do you mean, don't know? You look worse'n Dillan." Dillan manages to sound extremely pitiful and crumple up into a bloody pool. Finally, something he excels at. JJ Malone shakes his head, exuding fear like sweat, still breathing hoarsely. "Not here. Where are Jayson and Nigel." Salem glances sharply at JJ. "He went after /you/, Malone. Back across." Kyle's eyes narrow, but he doesn't even try to answer. Instead he looks across at Dillan and shakes his head. Dillan pushes to his hands and knees. "Punk-ass. I'll fuckin' take your ass down. Someone thinks he's the fucking shit." He grips the back of the bench and hauls himself to his feet, limping. JJ Malone mutters. "Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. Why'd he do something that stupid," he says wearily, and although he looks at where they originally reached with out-and-out fear. "We can't just leave him there." "Boy, you're a living example why Darwinism is a piece of crap," retorts Salem, snapping a Look back at Dillan. The Guardsman with the phone closes up the phone and puts it away, gesturing to his men to move away from the park. Jason backs up slowly, having already faintly heard a little too much, and not particularly wanting to get caught. Dillan coughs, and leaves a bright red gob on the grass. "And you're an example of the biggest bitch I ever seen. Chump fullmoon thinks he's all the shit for jackin' a crescent. Oo. You're big. Got a small dick to make up for." He hobbles off to Kyle, wincing. Jason picks his way south, into the overgrown meadow. Salem's face twists angrily. "Keep a fucking civil tongue in your mouth and you wouldn't fucking get the piss beaten out of you, idiot." JJ Malone snaps in a white-hot anger that is a brittle mask to the fear, "Dillan, just shut the fuck up for once in your life, will you? And you, too, Salem, or I'll blow both of your fucking sparrow-headed brains out." With that, he stalks purposefully down to a protected eddy of the river he knows about without a backward glance. Kyle's fist lashes out towards Dillan's shoulder. "Shut the fuck up. Fer Christsake, boy. You been beat. Take it like a man." Without even looking, he faces JJ, then follows. "Lead the way." Dillan stops to lean against an elm tree before making it to Kyle. "Fuck that noise. Chump came up talking shit. Ain't no way I get a cap for it, JJ. Pop him twice. Needs something to fill that dome up." Dillan makes it a bit further, and gets fed by Kyle. Wince. Salem snarls audibly, the sound far too lupine for comfort's sake, and abruptly turns to follow and fall into step with JJ, walking like a cache of dynamite just waiting to go off. JJ Malone, once he reaches the sheltered spot, shudders, grasping together the shreds of his will to begin reaching across once more. JJ Malone's eyes stop contemplatively on his reflection. A ripple of Umbral wind swirls about you, and the Gauntlet parts. JJ Malone seems to shimmer momentarily, and then vanishes. Umbra: Harbor Park Contents: Sun-Bringer Ash Nigel Salem appears in a swirl of wind and light. Sun-Bringer's desc: It's a bird. A really big bird. A really big black bird with a nasty-looking beak, looking around with what you could almost swear looks like a spark of intelligence in its eyes. This raven has a full four-and-a-half foot wingspan, its feathers dark as night without much color variation at all. Its beak looks sharp, as do its claws, lending credence to the folktales of ravens biting off fingers. The two Garou cross the Gauntlet painfully. There is a whipping and a shrieking in the air, and the river seems to be spraying upwards. The water, when it hits, burns. The fountain spray has stopped and the water has withdrawn from the basin, and there is something monstrous flowing across the landscape. It has the head of a great fish and the rolling body of a frog.. JJ Malone is panting again when he reaches this side, but the sight of the great monster has him up in his breed form in an eyeblink, and bellowing as loud as he can, ~SEER!~ as others might use a name to call someone. You have shifted to Crinos form. Salem's rage snaps free of its chains with a screaming, incoherent howl, and in a surge, the Ronin's body bursts upwards, all fur and claws and mindless hate, lashing out in a Wyrm-thralled frenzy at the nearest available target. JJ. The great creature had apparently been heading after something else, but when Salem screams and attacks JJ, its course changes, heading directly for them. Kyle appears in a swirl of wind and light. Dillan appears in a swirl of wind and light. Watching the Get come through the Gauntlet is like watching a pot of water come to a boil over a candle flame. He slowly shoves away the tendrils of the barrier, emerging like a newborn infant on the shadow side. Arlen appears in a swirl of wind and light. Shades snarls instinctively in answer as he whips around and catches Salem's state a moment before the Ronin slams into him. Fury rising but still under control, the Glass Walker beats even the rage-driven Salem to the punch, literally, smashing fists aiming for tender spots, even as massive jaws seek to clamp onto the throat immediately. Dillan instashifts to a healing form the instant he's across the gauntlet. Any pain that greets him blends in with the handful he's already got. Arlen materializes, mirror in hand, somewhat near the fountain, in a crouch as usual. She's immediately up and stringing her bow, staring about not-quite-wildly. It takes a moment for Kyle to regain his bearings, but it's a short moment. His cold eyes take in the scene, and he hisses in anger at the touch of the burning water. First the monster, and then the fighting Garou. His form flashes upwards into Crinos and, like a thundercloud in time-lapse film, he rolls towards Shades and Salem. Dark One snarls and snaps at the Walker's beating fists, claws slashing out in mindless rage. Then Shades is at the Ronin's throat, jaws clamping down and blocking off Salem's air, though even so he continues to struggle and rage. With a low rushing noise, the animate river is suddenly rushing towards the Garou with the speed of water released. Seeing Shades gain the upper hand, Thunder-Eater turns his attention to the monster lurching in the water. He moves swiftly, then, to the attack, circling and dodging as needed to avoid the brunt of the charge and trying for a flanking assault. Arlen, with a sense of vague hopelessness, fires an arrow at the river and then starts running, away from the onrushing water. Darkmane shifts and waits, healing from damage done earlier until he's well enough to enter the fray. He watches his garou brethren from a short distance, and follows Arlen's lead in seeking cover. Shades is scored by Dark One's claws, adding fresh stripes to the ones already gracing his hide, but doggedly, he retains his grip on Salem's throat, trying to tangle the Ronin's limbs with his own to prevent further damage. The onrushing water is ignored for the more immediate threat of a frenzied ahroun. Dark One eventually, of course, begins to lose consciousness from lack of air. His struggles weaken. The arrow strikes the liquid solidly and vanishes into the mass. Kyle does his best to dodge around the monster, but it seems to lose its coherency as it rushes to attack, and he can't avoid some of the liquid sloshing around his calves. His claws dart out in slash-slash-slash and there are three great gaping wounds in the water that ripple out to the rest of the waterbeast before flowing back together again. The water is so cold that it burns as it touches flesh. The water is about to pour upon JJ and Dark One. Arlen stops, some distance away, and snarls two words, swiftly and intently at the onrushing torrent. *Retreat. Now.* Dropping her bow, she stares at the thing for a moment or three before moving to join Kyle. Whether it's Arlen's warning or just his own awareness of things, Shades breaks off choking Dark One to scramble up in obvious pain, trying to simultaneously grab the Ronin by whatever handhold he can manage and begin dragging him away from the burgeoning flood, all the time cursing fluently, ~Shift down damn you or we're both going to drown,~ and the like. Unheeding of the damage being done to him, and focusing only on the damage he might cause to the creature, Kyle continues his ferocious assault. There is no subtlety to the attack. Dark One coughs and gags, long jaws working as the air comes rushing back into his lungs, but the Ronin is still half-dazed, and Malone managed to drag him, unprotesting, away from the oncoming water. Lightseeker shifts upwards and moves to join the Get, dropping her bow and using claws, given the complete lack of response her arrow had. ~This... Better...~ she begins, slashing, ~For a real,~ she ducks, ~War party, Thunderer?~ Now only mildly bruised, Darkmane rushes into the fray alongside Lightseeker to help JJ and Kyle (and, indirectly, Salem, but not because he wants to). Sun-Bringer flies down into the trees, making sure to hide himself as well as possible (with all the Garous' attention on the water, this is not a difficult task) before calling out at Kyle in a perfect mimicry of Pete Barlow's voice, "Kyle, you're an idiot, you know that?" The Dark One is a heavy burden for the wounded Glass Walker to bear and the water washes over the ronin and JJ's feet. Kyle slashes at the water again, leaving another trail of claw marks, and part of the flood turns to embrace him. Shades half-growls, half-whimpers at the additional pain, then snarls with a flood of anger, ~Shift down, damn you!~ and gives a mighty tug at the heavy body of the Ronin. Lightseeker snarls, ~Chugs, get the fuck over here,~ as she slashes at the thing again. Dark One snaps, eeth clicking on the air near Shades, but the command managed to get through the addled brain, and the Ronin abruptly reverts to human form, practically a lightweight now compared to the gender-muddled Glass Walker. Darkmane plows into the... thing? Whatever it is, he unloads with crinos claws on the assailant, delivering brutal slashes to it. As all evidence of his damage vanishes before Kyle's eyes, as the taunting comes from behind him in that hated voice, as his fellow Garou start to take care of themselves, sense, or frustration, seem to take over the Get. He begins to back out of the crappy waters, dodging backwards with an utterly unnatural agility. ~War party,~ he can be heard to say, the words shaking with barely controlled fury. The three Garou who are attacking the flood deliver slash after slash, each attack leaving a mark and then closing up again. As Kyle backs away, the water surge after him, but slowly, as the thing also tries to embrace Lightseeker and Darkmane. All three of the fighting Garou are utterly soaked and the burning spray from the spinning whirlpool still descends, although it's lighter now. JJ wrenches the now-humanshaped Salem out of the way of the flood and stumbles away, the water diverted for now. Shades unceremoniously dumps the Ronin's body at the fountain and pulls out his gun, barely able to stand upright now, but not wanting to leave yet. With a tone of figuring it'll be ignored, he vainly yips out a retreating howl, then moves towards the escape. ~Uh, Lightseeker...~ Darkmane manages, between seemingly-ineffectual blows, ~This ain't doin jack.~ he observes, each swipe of clawsproducing a similar effect. Lightseeker, as Kyle retreats, heaves a quite relieved sigh and starts retreating too, snarling, ~Come on, Lord,~ to Dillan, not turning her back to the river for one moment. ~Pointless,~ Thunder-Eater announces angrily, circling as best he can out of reach of the beast. ~Not a claw fight.~ The tight, barely intelligble words seem to be more an effort to convince himself than an effort to inform his companions. Salem lies more or less still where Shades has dropped him. The water still moves sluggishly after the retreating Garou, slowly compressing itself into a shape again. Darkmane bounds away from the fight, heeding Arlen's words. ~No shit,~ he says, replying to his packmate, sloshing his way back towards the others as fast as he can. Lightseeker mutters, ~Bind it?~ in a questioning tone, but nods fervently at the Get. ~Advance preparation,~ she says, still retreating. The waterbeast coalesces into the shape of a giant turtle and begins to trundle towards the gathering Garou. The fountain is still absent of all water as the elemental there hides herself from her dark brother. Lightseeker leans down to pick up her bow, and takes the opportunity to send a somewhat clumsy shot towards the turtle, then continuing to retreat. ~Who's getting Bunky there?~ Still pacing, Thunder-Eater's growling doesn't subside. ~It isn't fast. But we can't stay here. You all go through, I'll lure it somewhere else.~ Darkmane pauses behind Arlen, eying the turtle. ~Why don't we just lure it to where some pattern-spiders can hand it some beatdown. I bet they won't be happy 'bout it coming to play.~ Lightseeker's arrow goes wide as she aims it awkwardly. The turtle still moves closer as the head aquires definition-- the wicked beak of a snapping turtle is most prominent. Lightseeker snarls, ~Fuck that. Wake Bunky the hell up and we'll all get out of here, /now/.~ Thunder-Eater takes the time the other spend debating to drag his claws on the concrete of the fountain, sharpening them. He keeps up the retreat, though, careful to stay out of reach of the beast. Shades fires two quick shots off at the turtle from way the hell back, gaze falling on the dazed Ronin. Guiltily, he shakes his muzzle, and shifts down to human form, beginning to reach across. As unsteady as he looks, he seems to be held aloft by sheer force of will right now, pain etched deeply in every line of his body. Darkmane hmphs. ~We leave, and the spirit stays here inside the glade to start fucking shit up. What good s'that gonna do?~ He looks back to see the Walker vanish. ~Great. We're fucked.~ Lightseeker shoots another arrow, somewhat awkardly but with slightly more precision, and then shifts down abruptly to glabro, and shoves her mirror at Dillan. ~I'll fucking get the moron somewhere else,~ she growls, and then adds, ~Ever hear of a fucking strategic retreat?~ You have shifted to Homid form. The bullets splash into the turtle's shell. It shrinks a tiny amount, but moves onwards, ever onwards, step by rolling step. When it gets close enough to whoever is bringing up the rear, the head suddenly lashes out, wicked beak snapping. Salem stirs slightly on the ground, but doesn't look like he's about to get up to do anything else. Thunder-Eater is the brave soul bringing up the rear; the snapping turtle lunges at him and he dives to one side, leaving the creature with only a chunk out of his arm and shoulder. Darkmane jumps further back, away fromt he tortoise. ~Retreat? And give up the Glade? We ain't got no-where else in the city.~ He shifts down to Glabro to add his firepower to JJ's. Lightseeker's arrow homes in on the turtle and splooshes through one eye and out the back of the head. The eyehole remains open for a long, long moment before closing up again. The wound doesn't seem to slow Thunder-Eater much, though one might guess it will catch up with him. Having drawn the beast's fire, he moves with unnatural agility to lure it away from the others. He rapidly circles around its side. Salem gets his hands under him and onto the ground and pushes himself halfway up from the ground, swearing thickly under his breath. Lightseeker peers intently at the beast and swears. ~Fucking arrows,~ she mutters, and spies Salem wakening. ~Get the fuck out of here,~ she tells him, and moves to help Kyle distract the thing. Dillan's gun keeps popping as he fires away at the turtle; the slugs barely cause a ripple. Kyle and Arlen certainly manage to draw its attention, but that beak moves as fast as or faster than a Raging Garou on speed, more than making up for the slow legs once it gets into range. Sun-Bringer, not seeing much else he can do, and noticing the hard-headedness of the Garou, takes to the air from the trees, flying straight up then winging over the city in ever-widening circles in the Umbra. Salem gets to his knees, then his feet, still a bit wobbly from the aftereffects of burning nearly all his rage and then getting choked. He takes one look at the monster and scowls. "Fuck this," he rasps, and then turns, dropping into the wolf shape within a few steps and loping off to a (relatively) safer part of the city. Sun-Bringer heads north, towards the strange grey streak. Lightseeker works assidously on keeping away from said beak, slashing at the thing when and if she can. Once Salem's gotten to her feet, she retreats again, snarling, ~We can always retake it, Darkmane.~ "We /can/, yeah." Dillan keeps dumping rounds into the turtle, if only to distract it some. "But you guaranteeing me there'l still be a Glade here?" Lightseeker, still backing up, snarls, ~And if you're dead?~ It's /hard/ to get close to the turtle-shape. If the two attacking garou work together, one of them might be able to take the beak head on while the other does damage. As it is, the head whips back and forth, snapping each time they now get close. As the wounded finally make their own way off, and as it becomes clear the Turtle has an upper hand, Kyle breaks off his assault, calling out, ~Enough.~ As good as his own word, he also dances away from the beast. Dillan listens pretty damn well when it's Kyle calling the retreat, however. ~Fine. But we'd damn well better come back.~ He looks down at the mirror and steps across the gauntlet. Lightseeker, in lieu of her mirror, shifts down to lupus and hightails it towards Edge territory. As its prey begins to flee, the turtle, now a bit smaller than it was before, begins to lope after Arlen, form slowly changing to something smoother and more otter-like. She's faster, though, and can probably make it to Edge territory in relative safety. Thunder-Eater, not having a mirror of his own, runs off in search of another way through the Gauntlet. Preferably someplace far enough away from the beast to give him ample time to make his sluggish trip through the gauntlet. ---- Recall end ----