"Do you mean rubberbanding /literally/?'"

[renferret]

 Riley's experiments with awakened bawn fruit juice result in a bit of a...problem. Also, Mouse has a testy phone call with Ky.

Long distance to Riley: Mouse picks up. "Details." Apparently she's just about as clipped today in audio as in text.

 

You paged Riley with 'Fuck that. I can manage a short drive, I think. Do you mean rubberbanding /literally/?'.

 

Riley pages: There's a strained pause on the other end of the line, "I don't know what I mean. Something's fucked, something feels wrong and fucked. I don't mean I'm stretch-fucking armstrong or a limp noodle, I mean my body is ... /pulsing/ like I'm half-in and half-out of Glabro. My hands are ... " She trails off, and there's another long pause. Her voice sounds extra-husky then. "Please, just come."

 

You paged Riley with 'Okay." Mouse's voice is calm and business-like now. "I want you to go inside and lie down, but stay awake. I'm going to get the car. And if I can't drive, I'll get someone to drive it. You stay put and don't sleep. Got it? I'll be there as soon as I can."'.

 

---

 

From afar, Ky, having taken some time to let the steam blow off, calls up Mouse from his cell phone. It's late. Or early, perhaps. But whatever the hour, the Walker elder's phone starts to ring.

 

Long distance to Ky: Mouse answers after only a few rings, her voice terse. "Yes?"

 

From afar, Ky says, "Sorry to bother you." And he does sound sincere, with no hint of his earlier temper. "It's Kyler and I wanted to tell you directly that we've found the leak and have begun fixing it."

 

You paged Ky with 'I'd like some details." Mouse phrases it like a request, but her tone makes it clear that it's anything but. "Was it your kin, and how are you 'fixing' it?"'.

 

From afar, Ky "It was," Ky answers immediately. "Lex and I ran into her outside Medina Coffees and brought her back to the Vault. We're keeping her upstairs under guard. I'm not going to say if she's bound or not, but she has been drinking. Nor am I sure how much she has or hasn't told yet. We're still questioning her."

 

Long distance to Ky: Mouse says, a little more harshly, "And by questioning her, you mean...?"

 

From afar, Ky answers, unruffled, "Asking her questions. If it means anything, I left before I let the incredible anger I have right now consume me. But despite whatever you might think about /me/, I have a lot of respect for my family's kinfolk and would die before allowing harm come to them."

 

You paged Ky with 'I think you've fucked up," Mouse says, in a matter-of-fact way. "I think you've fucked up twice around vampires. But that's for latter, once they're gone. Tell me straight, Kyler. You swear to me on your own skin that you aren't torturing her, or allowing her to be."'.

 

From afar, Ky doesn't answer immediately, a couple of seconds pass and when he does speak the reason for the pause becomes clear. Anger is hinted his tone, though he remains respectful. "The first vampire, I did what I felt I had to do to ensure the vampire was found and that gave me the best option for survival. If I had any other choice that could have seen me out of that situation without drinking I'd have taken it. And you can take that to the judges. Whatever it is with /this/ vampire that's given you the impression that I fucked anything up, I'd sorely like to know. To answer your question, I give you my word that she is not being tortured nor will she be any more than her own stupidity and indulging in that poison that runs through the leech's undead veins allows."

 

Long distance to Ky: Mouse's tone doesn't change. "I don't want your explanations, I'm not a philodox. I /told you/ it was better to throw the op than to drink. That wasn't just a friendly suggestion. Now, we all fuck up, and we all take our lumps for it, and right now that's not what's important. I'll take you on your word, Ky. Don't make me regret that. But if they know about the Vault, you'd do better to move her somewhere she, and they, don't know about. This bitch is paranoid enough to notice when she goes missing, you don't want them hitting you before we hit them. Make sure you're all secure."

 

From afar, Ky can't quiet master the tension out of his own voice, but at least there's no pause this time. "I know what you told me, and I took all suggestions into consideration. I didn't like the odds of fifty guys with guns versus me. As for the Vault. If they know, we're ready for them to come. We're secure here."

 

Long distance to Ky: Mouse inhales slowly, then says, "Listen to me. This is, again, not a friendly suggestion, but an order. Get yourselves, and your kin, out of that building. No brave stands; vampires aren't big on fair fights. The first thing you might know about them is when they blow the entire place from below. You're not secure as long as they know where you are. That's the first rule of the city."

 

From afar, Ky says, "With all due respect, but are you and yours getting out of the Tenement? Since it's also compromised?"

 

Long distance to Ky: Mouse says, thinly, "With all due respect, I don't see how that's relevant to the fact that I just gave you an order, do you?"

 

From afar, Ky replies, "Because you're talking about tribal territory. This is Thunder's holding just as much as your building is Cockroach's, and neither I nor Nik can order you out of the Tenement, so I have to ask why you're ordering me out of the Vault."

 

Long distance to Ky: Mouse's voice turns cold. "Because I'm an Adren, Nik's Fostern, and you're a Cliath, and this is a time of war. If Elliot came down here and ordered us out of the Tenement for the good of ourselves and the Sept, /I would fucking go/. Now quit trying to argue with and second guess me and do what you were told."

 

From afar, Ky replies, "I'll let Nik know of your orders."

 

You paged Ky with 'And you'll follow my orders. Now."'.

 

Ky pages: I'll be in touch.

 

Long distance to Ky: Mouse says in a low, calm, warning voice, "Ky. Let me put it this way. You follow my orders, as is your goddamned duty, or you'll find out why disobeying an Adren Glass Walker Theurge over a city matter is a bad idea. Nik should already remember something of my methods when we worked together. I expect you out of there before evening."

 

From afar, Ky allows a second or two of silence to linger before answering with, "It's going to take longer than evening before we can be fully removed. I have to alert the others of my tribe and give them time to prepare. We have to make arrangements for moving the kin we have here, the others are aware of the situation and are staying away until it's dealt with. I'll do my duty as quickly as I can."

 

You paged Ky with 'You," Mouse says, without a single chance of voice, "will be out by evening. Flint can use the truck for moving the kin if need be." And then the line clicks, and cuts off.'.

 

---

 

Edgewood House: Garage(#1947RAJh)

 

This old and spacious building was once a fairly large carriage barn, but has been converted first as garage, and then into something else entirely. It once had massive two-story front doors, but they've been permanently closed, and a smaller door built into them. (It seems to have been reinforced at some point recently.) The walls, too, appear to have been reinforced in some way, making them stronger and somewhat soundproof. The size of about two large rooms, the first floor is undivided. It's got wooden plank flooring, and has exercise equipment dotting its expanse, with free weights in one area on the door's side of the building, a punching bag in a corner, and other equipment scattered about. There's a rough ladder up to the second floor loft, which is carpeted, but has unfinished walls, a few dangling light bulbs, and is apparently serving as a somewhat informal bunk area. The lighting is, understandably, somewhat inadequate. The floor mostly consists of mattresses, innumerable throw pillows and bed pillows, warm bedding, and the occasional glimpse of carpet. There are a few shoes resting against the wall near the ladder; clearly, people are expected to take their footwear off once they get up here. One can peer down from the ladder-opening, or from the edge of the loft. (There's about three feet of space between the edge of the loft floor and the barn walls.) A wooden door on the upper part of the garage leads into the second floor landing of the house. There is no exit to the house from the first floor of the barn.

 

Contents:

Riley

Obvious exits:

Meadow House

 

It takes a while; it's not actually a short drive from the city to Edgewood, and Mouse takes longer. An uncomfortable amount of longer, as it happens. But eventually the sound of a rumbling, well tended engine pulls into the driveway. It doesn't sound like her usual car at all. Too powerful.

 

While there doesn't seem to be any particular sign of Riley from the driveway - no ominous trails of blood or anything to really indicate that someone wounded has come through the area - there's a noteworthy inconsistency in the way that the small, reinforced door to the barn is hanging wide open on its hinges. It's heavy, and doesn't seem the sort of thing that would come open on its own, and it's far too cold to leave doors open by choice.

 

Mouse exits the Rolls Royce with extraordinary effort, clinging to the door as best she can. She doesn't bother to shut the car door, instead shuffling straight for the garage as fast as she can; which isn't fast at all. She moves like an old arthritic woman, and the drive seems to have made her usual painful, shuffling gait even worse. Eventually, she reaches the door itself.

 

Fortunately, the ragabash is not easily missed. Rather than huddle up in some far corner of the room or try to struggle her way up to the beds upstairs, she's simply collapsed right in the middle of the floor. At some point, she's eschewn glabro for lupus, and the reasoning for it is apparent at a glance. Laid upon her side, her form is in a state of permanent flux. Constant (but minor) contortions wrack through her body. It's as though she's entertaining the thought of shifting up to Hispo but never actually going through with it. Her muzzle broadens then narrows, her paws slightly stretching and then shrinking back, the fur around her neck all but vibrating as it thickens and thins.

 

"Rubber-banding," Mouse says, grimly. She limps fully into the garage, with one hand still trailing along the wall for balance. "Riley, you awake? I don't think this is going to be fun for either of us."

 

The grating sound that echoes from Riley sounds like a variably-pitched warble. Her command over lupus anatomy hasn't quite prepared her for this particular problem, and the result isn't pleasant to listen to. ~How could I sleep?~ Riley's head remains down. The expression on her muzzle is a stoic one, but her discomfort is obvious enough by the measure that she isn't moving, outside of the constant in-between state of her shifting. Both hind and forelegs are tucked in tight to her stomach, as though it in particular is suffering the most, despite the inactivity visually noted in that area.

 

Mouse inhales slowly and deeply as she approaches her tribemate. "Okay." A beat. "I'm going to heal you first, and then I think I'm going to have to do an immediate, impromtu Cleansing. And since I can't fucking carry that case of mine any more, it'll have to be without all the trappings. And right here. Let me see your stomach."

 

As she nears, Mouse will be able to get a much better view. The piercing wounds from the stings have long since mended, so there is little enough to look as she nears, save for that constant 'vibration' of fur and form. Moving her legs seems to be an effort, and though there's no piercing whimper to correspond with the motion, Riley's eyes do close as she slowly eases her legs down. With her legs straightened, a new layer of activity is exposed, her lower belly rumbling and rippling more than any other part of her body. It's not until Mouse grows exceptionally near that she's able to discern similar activity from the pelvic region. There's an indistinct blur of activity there, constantly rubber-banding.

 

The stomach in particular has a horrific quality to it, as though a huge amount of organs and intestines are roiling about. It doesn't look fun.

 

Mouse opens her mouth. Closes it. The only comment she allows out is a soft, "Jesus /Christ/." Her initial attempt to bend over fails utterly, bringing a flash of pain to her features before she can hide it. Not deterred, the Theurge slides slowly up into her own birth form, revealing the strange, mechanical brace she's been wearing fairly constantly the past few months. She drops to all fours with painstaking care, then brings her nose and one clawed hand toward Riley's roiling stomach.

 

It feels as unpleasant as it looks - with her large palm flattened against Riley's lower abdomen, Mouse will be able to feel the constant tug and shift of internal organs in a state of constant flux. It's the sort of thing that, upon further thought, is completely inconsistent with shifting into Hispo. Certain elements of the body might expand and contract, but the inside of her stomach feels as though it's roiling about, as if something unseen were shifting everything about from within. In spite of Mouse's expertise with Mother's Touch, the Gift comes and goes without any apparent change in Riley's condition. ~This sucks.~ Riley's voice continues to continually shift its pitch. ~But Glabro hurt more.~

 

~Do you have a knife?~ Mouse asks. Her voice is entirely calm, reasonable. It'd be reassuring if it weren't for what she just said.

 

It's here that Riley expels a soft little chuff of breath. She's in Lupus, her body language intones. Of course she doesn't have a knife. But yes, she has a knife. Already a speedy shifter without the use of rage, Riley's form blurs back up into birth form with the use of rage. It shouldn't be necessary, but it's clear what complications her insides might cause to the shifting process. Homid is... worse. Homid is much worse. It's also enlightening from Mouse's perspective. The impacted areas change. Her jaw, chin, lips, and nose. Her throat appears to be throbbing. Her shoulders and chest broaden and narrow, her breasts expanding and receding, hips widening and narrowing. Even through the sun-dress, the roil of internal organs shifting is seen and heard from her abdomen on down. Her fingers slightly broaden and narrow as they clutch the ground. She no longer looks quite so stoic. "C-coat po-cket." There's that strange voice again, an ululating shift of pitch, lowering, rising, cracking in between.

 

First-Strike has to shift down to retrieve the knife, which she does only long enough to get it. ~Okay, shift back.~ The knife looks tiny in her crinos hand. ~You aren't going to like this, but try to hold still. And don't ask any questions just yet.~

 

Evac pages: Int, Perception check: All of the impacted areas are locations that differ between males of the species and female of the species. She's trapped between a shift, alright.

 

Long distance to Evac: First-Strike oh ho ho. "Well, that's better than Mouse's other worry. XD"

 

Obediently (and gratefully), Riley jerks back down into Lupus with the last of her rage, and though her expression eases, she's clearly still not comfortable. ~I already don't like it - it hurts.~

 

First-Strike presses the palm of one hand against Riley's side, bracing her as best she can. She brings the knife to the Ragabash's stomach, and makes an incision with all the concentration and care of a surgeon, using her claws not to dig deeper, but to carefully push the two edges of flesh apart so that she can look...inside.

 

You paged Evac with 'Trying to get a look at those organs, but also making doubly sure Riley isn't carrying uh, baby wasps.'.

 

Blood pools its way quite happily around the edge of the keenly-sharpened knife as it slices a deep, then shallow, then deep cut. It's difficult to make an even cut when the surface is shifting quite so readily. The initial view is not quite so different from that from the outside. It's only when Mouse digs her way in deeper and pulls back the outer layer of tissue that she gets a close look at exactly what's happening. Her entire reproductive system is vibrating and pulsing - not stationarily so, but rather everything her uterus, fallopian tubes and ovaries appear to be contracting and reemerging, as if someone were pulling them from existence and then forcibly shoving them back in. Suffice to say, it's gross.

 

*-everything

 

First-Strike pulls knife and claws back, allowing the incision to heal itself. For a moment she closes her eyes, ears twisted back. Thinking. Then she cleans the knife on her knee and sets it aside. Standing up seems even harder than crouching down, even with the strange, mechanical back support, and it takes her nearly half a minute to rock back to her feet. ~I'm going to start. Stay still.~ She takes up the knife again and begins painting a careful circle around her tribemate on the barn floor, using Riley's own blood.

 

Aside from elevated breathing, Riley doesn't move or speak, not caring to risk the efficacy of the Rite just to keep her elder in constant awareness of how much discomfort she's in. There is little enough small-talk one can make in this sort of situation.

 

Riley has seen Mouse perform this before, multiple times. This time is not much different, in spite of the lack of supplies or preparation. Her shuffling, erratic steps nevertheless keep that silent time, her arms spread, still holding that small bloody knife, as if she were carrying the censer. She begins to chant. Latin, then Mother's Tongue, a low but forceful litany of prayers repeated over and over. There's no hurrying this; she circles the Ragabash numerous times, and only gradually does her chanting become louder, a long, slow slog from barely a whisper to a murmur to conversational level, and then louder still.

 

Through the early portions of the ritual, there is no reaction, save for Riley's eyes pushing themselves closed. When the chanting begins to reach a fever pitch, though, something seems to be happening. Gradually, the vibrations slow. They don't stop outright, but they begin to control themselves, taking longer and longer to transition between. For brief moments in time, there is a fully male wolf in front of Mouse, then it slowly works its way back to female, over and over again. Clearly whatever is at work inside of Riley's body is starting to react.

 

First-Strike's chanting cadence has always been rhythmic, but now it seems even more so. She lifts her hands a little higher, steps a little more forcefully, and turns her nose toward the ceiling. And then, at the apex of the rite, she lets out a loud, bone-chilling howl that echoes off the walls and the high roof, seemingly filling the room with sound-in-motion, a wordless call and plea to unseen forces.

 

With the urgings of the ritual and with a sudden heaving of Riley's throat, a wash of translucent liquid spills from between her lips and teeth. All of the transformations and vibrations cease, and what's left behind is a panting, raggedly breathing female ragabash with saliva and presumably venom drooling out of her mouth. The venom has run its course.

 

First-Strike exhales. It's a sigh. Relief? Disappointment? Even in crinos, the Walker Theurge's mood isn't quite clear. She puts a large, crinos hand on Riley's shoulder, then sets the knife aside again and moves away. ~Stay there. Don't touch that. I'm going to get something to take a sample.~

 

Giving a stiff nod of compliance, Riley simply lays there on her side and breathes deeply. The absence of pain after much too much of it is a unique brand of euphoria in its own right, one which she's more than happy to explore until Mouse instructs her that it's okay to do otherwise.

 

First-Strike shifts back to homid before stepping outside. She's gone for several minutes, during which the sound of a car door shutting can be heard, and then the trunk. When she eventually returns, it's with a small glass vial and a tissue in one hand, and a rolled blanket tucked under the opposite arm. The latter, she drapes wordlessly over Riley as she joins her tribemate again. "How do you feel?"

 

~Stupid, mostly.~ The lupus grumbles, taking half a moment to roll her tongue through her maw and drool out any of the excess wyld-fighting toxin. ~After that, grateful.~ She takes a long breath and lets it out. ~It was like someone was playing with my insides for the last couple hours. I am glad that I arrived here before the worst of it set in.~ She eases up into Homid, tugging the blanket up over her shoulders and sitting up, spitting off to the side again when she's done. "...So, like I said. Awakened stuff is no good. Really knocked some of them on their ass, but the ones it riled up? They even attacked me when I was invisible."

 

"Stupid maybe," Mouse allows, "and definitely for doing it alone, /again/, but you might've saved us from serious disaster." She struggles back down to the floor--sitting this time, rather than crouching, but it still seems a desperate struggle to get down without falling. When she finally does, she dips the tissue into the venom and spit, and squeezes it carefully into the vial. "I don't know what good this will do. But I like keeping strange things for possible future use." She repeats the gesture. Dip, squeeze.

 

"Yeah, well, I guess I thought -- " She pauses, tongues her teeth again, and grunts, "Yeah, okay. Stupid. It was stupid." She glances down at the vial of whatever she's retched up and shrugs her shoulders. "If you want a sample that's not full of my spit, could always just kill one of the fuckers and squeeze it out." She frowns. "Anyway, I didn't expect that the awakened batch would backfire quite this badly. Or maybe I just wanted it not to. I dunno." She rubs at the back of her neck, "It changed a few of them that came into contact with it. Small things. Extra wings. When some of the other wasps stung one with the extra bits on 'em, they melted right off in no time flat. It was interesting, right up until the damn things started bumping into me while they were fighting and sticking me. I had to run like hell, then re-invis, then run like hell. It wasn't my finest hour."

 

Mouse finishes taking her sample, stuffing the tissue into the vial as well, before capping it. She puts a hand on Riley's shoulder. "If we'd used that during the actual operation, we'd have been fucked. Better we found out now, yeah? I'm just glad you made it out. /Don't/ do something like that alone again."

 

Her smile looking exceptionally thin, Riley gives a sardonic little shake of her head, "I can't think of a compelling reason why I shouldn't do things alone. Drawing an utter blank." She puffs a small breath from between her lips and leans forward to very gently hug her elder. "Thank you. Having to ride that out until it thinned out on its own would have been a nightmare."

 

Mouse looks a little pleasantly surprised by the hug, judging by the twitch at the corners of her mouth. "Just my job," she says. "Though if you want to thank me, ah." She jerks her head toward the door. "Drive me back once you feel up to it? It's the batmobile, so no touching the nitro."

 

"Just as much as it's my job to sneak around and defy my better judgement every now and then. Just couldn't help but think, 'Aw, man, really? To /wasps/?' I mean, come on. A dragon stepped on me." Her smile grows slightly more coy, and she eases her way up to her feet, looking... stiff, mostly. "I'm tired, but I should be good to drive, Batmobile or no."

 

Mouse slips the vial into a pocket and begins struggling back to her feet. The motion involves a lot of rocking and grasping, and isn't remotely dignified, or quick. "Just not again. I really will chase after your spirit and kick your ghostly ass."

 

For all that it might come off to an observer as callous, Riley doesn't extend a hand to help her up, but rather waits patiently until Mouse regains her footing. She gives a brief little bob of her head, and waits for her to lead the way out to the car.

 

Mouse eventually manages, though she's breathing quite heavily by the time she's through. One hand thrusts into her pocket, and she lightly tosses her keys to Riley before heading back outside.