"I can hear you now, /shut the fuck up/!"
Apr. 20th, 2014 09:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
renferretMouse returns from the Cyberrealm in a somewhat...unexpected fashion.
Edgewood House: Meadow(#1390RJh)
A long, hard-packed dirt road winds almost a mile through the forest off Sunrise Road, eventually opening out into a small front yard, and coming to a stop in front of a large house, which may be the very definition of ramshackle. The house is not visible from the road, nor can one hear anything but perhaps a gunshot. Its foundation and general structure are solid, but its once crisp grey-and-white paint needs updating, and some of the trim is having trouble staying attached. A fixer upper, one might say. Off to the left, there's a former garage, long since converted into something of an in-law apartment. A connecting flyover attaches it to the second floor of the house.
There are no fences surrounding either the front or back yards. In the rear of the property, the yard (larger than in the front) eventually comes up against a well built garden, with the very beginnings of sprouts. Shaded and obscured by surrounding trees, there is a small (but deep) natural pond, with a chuckling brook leading out of it, into the woods. There's a rope swing hanging from one of the trees. The yard to the southeast of the property stretches on for a time, and then is eaten by woods, into which there may or may not be a path; it apparently fades away quickly. There's a certain looming feel to these woods.
Contents:
Nicodemus
Tent(#1921A)
Obvious exits:
Narrow Path Sunrise Road Front Door Barn/Garage
Moros has arrived.
Nicodemus is seated indian style by the edge of the deep pond near the back of the meadow, contemplating the water's gently rippling surface. Or his navel. Or the wisdom of eating a fast food breakfast burrito. Whatever he's thinking about, he's thinking about something.
Slug has arrived.
Nicodemus is seated indian style by the edge of the deep pond near the back of the meadow, contemplating the water's gently rippling surface. Or his navel. Or the wisdom of eating a fast food breakfast burrito. Whatever he's thinking about, he's thinking about something.
Moros's approach is announced by the crunching of leaves, twigs, and other undergrowth; the huge Fury is not made for stealth and doesn't try. He comes out of the woods sweating a little, a sour and strong masculine reek about him from it and stops dead not far from the pond to stare at Nick like he's contemplating how best to remove the kin's eyes.
Nicodemus doesn't miss the crunching, snapping noises coming from behind him. He twists at the waist to look and see what is approaching and... "Uh. You need me to leave?" he asks as he registers the source of the sound being Moros. He's already halfway to his feet by the time the sentence is done, as if indicating that leaving was what he'd been planning to do all along anyway. No problem.
Moros flicks greasy hair out of his face with a jerk of his head and says, "You're kin to the Walkers. Do you know when it will be acceptable to go into the city again?" His hands, hanging at his sides, idly open and close.
Nick's cellphone buzzes. Saved by the bell? Well, no. The screen indicates he has a new text message.
Slug comes wandering from the direction of the woods, made somewhat distinct by his orange hoodie. The Gnawer's larger than he normally might be, likely in Glabro, and walking at a leisurely pace. He strides across the field toward the Metis and the Kinsman, a puff of smoke occasionally wafting over his head into the wind.
Nicodemus uhms at Moros' question as he finishes standing up. "I don't suspect it will be anytime soon. Not until we either learn more about The Suits, they leave, or they're otherwise dealt with." The latter possibility is left wiiiiide open for interpretation. He reaches for his cellphone, noticing Slug wearing fashionable "please don't shoot me, Mr. Hunter" colored attire, and offers a nod in the Gnawer's direction as he checks his messages.
There's one new message, but when Nick opens it, he finds something a little strange. The sender field is entirely empty. So is the actual message. The subject line seems to be a stream of nonsense characters and numbers, filled up entirely and likely cut off.
Moros grimaces, nose wrinkling. "They should be /dealt with/ then," the big man grumbles, fingers curling into fists. He looks over at Slug, giving the Gnawer a glowery death-stare.
Slug is indeed in Glabro, that much is apparent when he comes closer. There's a few angry patches of red, puffy skin on one hand. The Gnawer's face also has a few small red dots scattered across it, like someone shot him in the cheek with the world's tiniest shtogun. He glances from moros to Nic, grunts, waves, and puffs on his smoke.
"Brute force, directed against the government with the largest and most advanced military in the world, is not going to be productive. Subtlety and manipulation is far more likely to be successful--and not result in the entire sept and caern being leveled. The tradeoff is that it takes time." While Nick speaks, he's simultaneously squinting at his phone's screen, as if attempting to make sense of whatever jumble of stuff just came across his text message. He's cycling through coding languages he knows, the possibility of a corrupted image file inadvertently sent as a text, and some kind of encoded message. He barely looks up at Slug. "If that's a skin condition, tell me it's not contagious?"
You paged Nicodemus with 'A coding language is a distinct possibility, but if that's what it is, it doesn't seem familiar at all. And as if that weren't enough, if he tries to close the message, the screen seems to have frozen up. Or at the very least, that message isn't closing. And it'll take a bit to notice since Nick's always doing the gloves thing, and his hands are too warm anyhow, but the phone feels...warmer. A lot warmer.'.
Moros's attention snaps from Slug back to Nick as the Walker-kin speaks, and his eyes go wide with sudden rage -- and his whole body goes rigid as he clamps down on the onset of frenzy. He doesn't want to just calmly remove Nick's eyes now; he wants to turn the man into a fine red mist. And then maybe bathe in the blood and small body pieces.
Slug pulls out a pint-sized glass bottle and drops his nearly dead cigarette into it, sighing at Nic. "Fire isn't contagious." He reaches down into his hoodie for something, and pauses, his eye dancing from Moros, to Nic, and back again.
Nicodemus nods absently to Slug's words, eyes on the phone's screen and potentially oblivious to Moros' outrage. "The hell is this?" he says to no one in particular.
From afar, Nicodemus figures he might notice this upcoming pose. Battery removal an option? Or is this a throw it now situation? The pond is a likely recipient.
You paged Nicodemus with 'Warmer, and warmer, and--wow, it's like taking a baking sheet out of the oven with an oven mitt. And in a few seconds, it's starting to trend toward holding one /without/ the protective mitt. | Up to you! Whatever's going on, it's going on /fast/ though. Throwing might seem more prudent.'.
Nick's phone buzzes again, but this time it's much louder and...crankier sounding.
For some reason, Nick's very obliviousness enrages the Black Fury even more, and for a second his control slips a little -- he takes a step toward Nick, boiling up into the near-man form, massive hands with thickening nails coming up in a strangling motion -- and then, abruptly, he lets out a gutteral, half-human snarl and /stops/, clutching at his head, eyes squeezed shut.
Slug rolls his tongue across his lips and watches Moros with caution, edging closer to Nick as subtly as he can. He gives the Kinsman a poke in the side with one pointed nail, giving Moros a discrete nod of his head.
Nicodemus had been making a perplexed and confused face at his odd-acting smartphone. That changes right about the time that Moros clutches at his own head. Nick's expression shifts from being confused to being surprised. "Shit!" he says out loud, right as Slug pokes him in the side. He cocks an arm back and chucks what is probably a $300 phone straight into the pond as he suddenly becomes aware of what's going on around him. "Run!" he advises as he tries to choose a path that takes him away from Moros and the pond. If that path just so happens to use Slug as a human shield, then that was probably a complete accident.
Moros doesn't pay the slightest bit of attention to Slug or Nick or the phone heading toward a watery grave; the monster's far too occupied in strangling back his own destructive impulses. Thick, hair fingers twist and knot into the oily tangles of long black hair in what looks like an incredibly painful manner, and slowly, he sinks down to his knees, head lowered, overlong teeth bared.
Half a second after the phone hits the water, the pond's surface ripples with sparks of blue electrical current. Pity any water critters in that immediate area. It's certainly more charge than any cellphone should have, and it's followed by a few quick bubbles and a hiss of steam as the phone sinks out of immediate sight. All is well for a moment, and then ...that's about when something dark and vaguely human sized appears beneath the water, thrashing hard enough that droplets get flung everywhere.
Mouse: Beneath the water's /surface/, even.
Nicodemus: Nick just drowned the Walker elder. :(
Moros: Mouse is the Lady in the Lake!
Moros: Now aren't you /really/ glad I sent Moros instead of Salem? XD
"What, you think he's gonna chase it?" Slug says, glancing at Nic as the Kinsman takes off behind him. The confused Ragabash looks at the pond, then at Moros. He wriggles his fingers around against his palm, his fingernails dragging across his fake-leather gloves. Then, things just get weird in the pond. The Ragabash abruptly vanishes from sight, completely and utterly, leaving nothing but open space where he was standing seconds before.
Slug , Blissful'ed.
Mouse: Human shield /denied/.
Moros lawl.
Nicodemus decides the best course of action is to keep running. He does so, altering course so he'll be entering the nearby treeline, allowing for some cover from... Well, take your pick between weird phone incident or nearly frenzied ahroun. The meadow is not exactly a kin-friendly place anymore, and Nick aims to leave it promptly.
Moros, meanwhile, seems to be regaining self-control. He slowly shifts back down into his (relatively speaking) more normal human form and leans forward in his kneel to rest his palms against the ground. His head remains lowered, hair curtaining his face; his breathing is loud and harsh, though, and he's sweating all over.
The whatever in the water breaks the surface with a cacophony of coughing and sucking sounds--no, wheezing. Human-ish wheezing and coughing. And thrashing. It manages to get into the much shallower part of the pond entirely by accident, and that's about when it becomes clear that the thing in the water is not just human sized but human shaped, albeit a human shape that appears to be rapidly cycling through what can only be described as 'color static', as well as an unnatural blackness that has nothing to do with the light in the meadow. The shape solidifies a bit more, revealing a sodden mess that's...well, no, that's Mouse. Mouse with her color exposure seemingly tuned far too high, but definitely Mouse. A very wet, coughing and gagging homid form Mouse.
Nicodemus makes it into the treeline and keeps going further into the woods. For a short, scrawny guy, he can definitely run hard and fast.
Emma has arrived.
Moros shudders and sits up, hands resting on his thighs. He jerks hair away from his sweaty face and turns to stare over toward the pond, and for once the monster doesn't look like he's spoiling to inflict some random sadism on anyone; he looks haunted instead, and shaken. So he stares at Mouse coming out of the pond but doesn't really seem to be reacting much to the odd sight.
Mouse's thrashing subsides to unnatural, spasmodic body jerks, that, fortunately, seem to quickly become less and less frequent. Her color gradually dulls until it's appropriately 'real'. Between the gasps and coughing, her voice comes rather too loud, as if she were unaware of her current volume. "No, no,--" wheeze, "--no no no no. No. Nope. No. Nnnno." Splashing. "No. Stoppit. Stop. Sssstop. Stop talking. Stop. Seriously shut up. Stop. I can hear you now, /shut the fuck up/!"
Riley has connected.
Slug pops back into existance as easily as one might snap their fingers. The Ragabash's face twitches, and he stares at Mouse with wary curiosity. "You alright?" He rumbles, though it's not exactly clear which Metis the Glabro is speaking to.
Nicodemus gets some distance, trees, and visual cover between himself, Moros, and the pond he chucked his phone into--resulting in Mouse emerging from the waters a few seconds later. He finally stops, turning to look back, to verify he's not being pursued. He breathes heavily, eyes wide, adrenaline rush going full-tilt as he pauses to collect his wits. And maybe the remains of his dignity.
Oblivious seems to be the going trend for the day right now, as someone steps out of the house via the back door. Ear buds in her ears and an apparel designed for exercise suggest she's on the way out for a run. Until she spots the rather unusual circumstance playing out and the tail end of the kin's retreat. "Nick?!" she calls out even as she starts racing toward the man. Her head swivels even as she runs after him, trying to gauge what's going on, and seeing Moros and a suddenly reappeared Slug near the pond, finds a frown tipping into her features.
Moros looks from Mouse to Slug, that uncharacteristic /haunted/ look on his face still. He looks away after only a moment and slowly gets to his feet, looking like he's just finished an extra-long marathon.
It's rather hard to ignore the volume that Mouse's initial screams - and then shouted words - produce. The lake may be distant from the house, but it's not the most notoriously well-insulated building on the planet. Sound carries, travels, and brings along with it reactions. The front door to Edgewood House slams open on its hinges, unveiling a bleary-eyed ragabash still in pajama attire - oversized shirt, underwear. Avert thine eyes. Perhaps if they hadn't been on different ends of the house, Emma and Riley might have coordinated a more unified approach; instead, the Ragabash simply looks grouchy at having her tenuous grasp on sleep jarred yet again. It's a wonder why she even tries to sleep here, anymore. "What. The. /Fuck/." She grinds her heel against against the dirt, taking stock of the situation only after her words. Nick and Emma. Moros and Slug. ---Mouse? The ragabash's expression goes blank. A blink and a half, and she starts walking.
Mouse rolls onto her stomach with a low groan, and proceeds to spit up several mouthfuls of water. The action's made less easy by the fact that she keeps trying to clamp her hands over her ears, and she's still suffering from the random muscle seizure.
Nicodemus raises a hand in Emma's direction, indicating he's heard her call his name, all the while staying behind the trunk of a tree and peering from behind it so he can see what's going on over by the pond.
Slug offers Moros his hand when the Metis looks his way, but after a few seconds, he seems to think better of it. He retracts it and sticks it into the pocket of his hoodie, looking on at Mouse with a stony face. He grunts and shuffles toward the water with his shoulders squared, his head lowered, the fingers on his right and twitching and strumming as if plucking the cords of an invisible guitar. He squats beside Mouse and takes a good look at her, sniffing, watching as she sputters and chokes for air.
Emma looks from Nick back to the pond, and seeing Slug already over there, stays course toward the kin. Her pace doesn't slow until she reaches him, and a hurried, "You okay? What's going on?" is tossed out.
Moros starts walking off without further word to anyone.
Nicodemus pages: Scan! Is Mouse Mouse?
You paged Nicodemus with 'Mouse is Mouse! With something extra.'.
The state of Nick's wellbeing is callously ignored by his employee and friend, who advances across the yard toward the pond with single-minded intent, at a rather swift walk, then a brisk jog, and finally a run. Heedless of all the precautions and wariness being taken, Riley tromps right on into the shallows, slogging her bare ankles through the mud and water to advance the last several steps, her fingers squeezed into balled fists. Her voice is incredibly quiet, when she speaks. "...Chief?"
Mouse doesn't seem particularly aware of all of the activity around her. She has no response for Slug or Riley, not even a glance to show that she's noticed they're there. After bringing up a few more mouthfuls of pond water, and clapping her hands once more to her ears, she abruptly starts laughing. And laughing. "Four Gee, /my ass/."
Nicodemus holds up a hand towards Emma, as if signaling that he needs a moment longer. Then the hand lowers, though there's a slight frown. Nick then explains, "My phone nearly blew up, so I threw it in the lake, and then Moros nearly frenzied on me, and then Mouse--or what looks and sounds like Mouse--came out of my cell phone. Underwater." Because that makes sense, right? "I need more time. And a cellphone. You have your phone?" he asks of the Get ahroun. He doesn't promise to return it in good shape and current events might suggest he ought not be given another cell phone.
From afar, Nicodemus shall continue to study! Unless it's plotty-foo. In which case he does not succeed.
You paged Nicodemus with 'It's Mouse, and a whole Mouse (albeit one who seems to be...having some troubles probably related to coming out of a short circuiting phone underwater). Nick might pick up on the fact that she has that gun magazine fetish on her. And...something else. Something fetishy or fetish-like or just plain fetish, but this one's attached--no, /part of/ her back.'.
From afar, Nicodemus deems this to be acceptably in the weirdness dept.
"I think you just maxed out Nic's data plan," Slug dryly remarks, looking down at the Walker Elder on the ground. He stands back up again and glances in Riley's direction, seemingly bemused about something. He shakes his head and pulls out his cigarettes, sparking one up. "I just told Salem you're bad. He'll be glad you can go back to being at the helm of the SS Shitstorm."
Emma blinks twice and finds her mouth dropping open in shock. She nods though, and steps closer ever so slowly for the Walker kin, handing her phone over. As the phone is handed off she turns back to see if she can spy Moros anywhere, and is left staring at the pond a bit.
Nicodemus starts up a text message and then, midway through it, he hands the phone back to Emma. "I was going to text Salem, but then I remembered that you could probably get in touch with him faster. Could you?" he requests, then seemingly rediscovering Slug, he adds, "If he hasn't been already?"
Riley is not what one would call especially composed - even if she got over to the pond ably enough, she's now all but rooted in place those last few feet away from her Elder, her expression conveying so much that it may as well be a wash as to what she's thinking. Excitement and worry factor most heavily. She doesn't stay awkwardly frozen forever, mercifully. One step, followed by another. She crouches low, her ratty, over-sized shirt dragging into the shallows. "Mouse." She speaks, more firmly, her hand outstretching and settling on the deliriously laughing metis's back.
Moros has reached the treeline by the time Emma looks for him and passes it without looking back. The monster's not moving fast, though, or trying to be stealthy, so could be followed wasily if someone wanted to do so. Otherwise, he's obviously leaving.
Emma takes the phone back. "We have. He's been made aware. You okay?" she asks again before turning the next question. "Did she come out of your /phone/?"
Riley gets an unexpected zap from the touch, though thankfully it's not much more than your average static shock. That it comes from a soaking wet metis might be a little unusual. Mouse continues laughing, though it dies down fairly quickly. "Okay, okay. Really. Okay. I'm okay. That's a little too much--" She coughs harshly, and then chuckles. One hand moves from her ear to her face, lightly tracing water and mud over it. "Hi, Riley."
"You're too damn happy soundin' to be Mouse," Slug rumbles, takes a pull off his cigarette. "You got the same skin, but you don't seem like the same person. Did you do some freaky Theurge shit and get hijacked by a Roach spirit or something?" Slug stretches his legs out and takes a few steps back from the pond's edge, putting some space between himself and the Walkers.
"Good," Nick says to Emma. "I think she may have come out of my phone," he confirms. "I think." He encourages Emma, "Go get filled in.Check her out. I need to get out of here." He starts making a wide circle around the garou so he can get back to his Suburban parked in the driveway.
Riley's fingers retreat momentarily at the static-shock, but replace themselves soon after. Her other hand still looks tensed enough that her nails are doubtless digging uncomfortable furrows into her skin, threatening at any time to draw blood. At least, that is, until Mouse replies. Her fingers slowly uncurl and her arm slacks enough that her fingers drift down into the water. The ones in contact with Mouse's back subtly tighten, the Ragabash's eyes taking on a slightly glassen shean. "---You're home." Riley murmurs, trying her very able best not to sound completely choked up.
Emma gives a little nod to the kin, a frown unmistakeably present across her eyes as she watches him go. As the kin heads out, she turns and jogs over to the pond, eyes wary and posture just a little bit defensive. She steps up next to Slug and gives him a nod even as she eyes the two Walkers greeting each other. "So hey... things alright here?" It's an understated question of the most epically vague proportions.
You paged Riley with 'There's something on her back, between the shoulder blades. The coat she's wearing, even soaking wet, covers it up pretty well, but Riley can feel it. Something hard and unyielding.'.
Riley pages: It's PRESENTS! Mouse is Santa.
"Yeah," Mouse says. And then, as Emma comes over, she says, "Yeah," again, in identical fashion, without lifting her head. "Alive, home, that's me." The soaking wet Walker Theurge starts to push to her feet. The motion is smooth, unhampered, and there's no sign of stress or pain at the effort on Mouse's face.
Nicodemus slips across the meadow to his car in the driveway. He loiters there, in relative safety for a bit, watching things unfold at a distance.
Slug eyes Mouse like a spooked dog, his shoulders rising, his brutish face taking a turn for the uneasy as she moves. Slug fades back a few steps, his booted feet barely making a sound on the ground. He glances sidelong at Emma and growls, the tone low and wary. Both of his hands slide into the belly pockets of his hoodie as he retreats back a good five or ten feet, little by little.
Glancing down at her hand for a moment when it slides off of Mouse's standing form, Riley looks quizzical for all of a moment before glancing up. Slug's growling gets a blank turn of the Ragabash's head and a sour look to go along with it. The Adren stays crouched, glancing back at Mouse, rather looking as though if she removes her eyes from her for a moment, she might up and disappear again. "...Mission accomplished?" She ventures, nodding her head in Mouse's direction.
"I guess a welcome home is in order," Emma offers with a slight grin. A deep breath follows though, akin of one taking on a more professional manner. "Rather interesting method of return there Mouse, hope you can forgive the wariness." The Get glances toward Slug for a moment and tips her head at him in silent communication. "Riley, you got anyone you can call that can check things out here? This is obviously, out of my realm of normal."
Nicodemus: If you can detect it, there's magic in the use in the vicinity.
Mouse finally flicks a glance toward Slug, with a faint arch of her eyebrows. After a beat, she looks back to Riley, nods, and then, finally, looks to Emma. "I wasn't exactly aiming for a phone, but I got a little turned around in the Web," she says, sounding weary. "Definitely wasn't aiming for a phone underwater."
Slug 's shoulders square up when she looks at him, as if he were expecting her to do *something*. When she looks away, he looks at Emma, and turns on his heel. The Gnawer starts walking away at a brisk pace, cutting through the fields with long-legged strides. Every so often he glances across his shoulder, but unless he's stopped, he continues straight on to the house and heads inside.
With a decidedly strange look trained on Slug, Riley turns her head from him, back to Mouse, before side-eyeing Emma. "Insofar as checking whether or not Mouse has been, what, taken over by 1s and 0s?" She glances back to Mouse, sidebarring, "Everyone's just as ridiculously paranoid as when you left, you'll be happy to know."
Emma doesn't do or say anything to stop Slug's retreat, but at Riley's question she gives a very solemn nod. "Yeah." There's only a brief pause before she clarifies the why, more for Mouse's sake than anything else. "Given the amount of weaver trouble we're potentially facing down just now, I'd rather play it safe than sorry. The Walkers have already had to evacuate the Tenement due to the crap going on and have had one of theirs taken by the Suits -who we have determined to be clones. So until Salem can get in touch with you, yeah, playing it safe." A pause, "And Salem's been alerted to the fact you've just gotten back."
Mouse gives Riley a thumbs-up with both hands at her remark. "Good. I think I'll be...I need a nap. And a shower. And a clothes dryer. And then a fucking cheeseburger, because /god/. I hope you guys can be properly paranoid with all that, because the batmobile's still in Portland." She starts to say more, but her mouth just ends up slightly open at Emma's reference to many many things. "...What? No. /No/. Seriously, I'm having that goddamned cheeseburger before any of whatever you just said."
Riley opens her mouth, then closes it, letting Emma do the filling-in, until Mouse once more expresses her hunger. "Oh. Shit, yeah. You've been --- yeah, um. Damn, well... I dunno about a cheeseburger, but I can make you some eggs, or I'm sure there's some leftover Kung Pao in the fridge?"
Emma frowns slightly, "Don't mean to dump bad news in your lap when you've just gotten home. But I needed you to know why the extra precautions. I can probably get Nick to run out and bring you a cheeseburger back here, and anything else you might need or want from in town. And Salem can grab anything you need from the tenement. We'll hold off on the rest of the update until later. I'm sure Riley can act as point for whatever you need to do as far as tribal affairs go."
"Cheeseburger," Mouse simultaneously agrees, and insists. She starts walking toward the house--walking, not limping. There's not a hint of a limp to her stride at all, it seems perfectly normal, which for her is entirely abnormal. "I'll take some eggs and Kung Pao in the meantime."
Riley casts a glance back to Emma - one that unequivocally conveys 'I've got this' - before managing a quick jog to catch up to Mouse. "Eggs and leftover chinese, comin' up. You're gonna hate yourself in a few hours."
Emma takes in the Walker elder's condition as the trio makes for the house, and as Riley heads on ahead of them, she makes note of it. "I'll admit to not knowing much about what you were up to. Only that you were heading toward Walker-sort of places. You look good. A lot better than when you left. That's gonna be good news for a lot of folks."
Mouse pulls up the collar of her sopping coat as she continues on toward the house. "Maybe," she allows, around a yawn. And to Riley, "I'll take the risk."
"Jacinta took alphaship, as a side note. And Silvertip is back as well, though, female." A pause, "Salem's been looking after things in the city." Emma sighs, "I seriously don't want to just dump all this on you. Fuck it. Eggs and kung-pao."
Edgewood House: Meadow(#1390RJh)
A long, hard-packed dirt road winds almost a mile through the forest off Sunrise Road, eventually opening out into a small front yard, and coming to a stop in front of a large house, which may be the very definition of ramshackle. The house is not visible from the road, nor can one hear anything but perhaps a gunshot. Its foundation and general structure are solid, but its once crisp grey-and-white paint needs updating, and some of the trim is having trouble staying attached. A fixer upper, one might say. Off to the left, there's a former garage, long since converted into something of an in-law apartment. A connecting flyover attaches it to the second floor of the house.
There are no fences surrounding either the front or back yards. In the rear of the property, the yard (larger than in the front) eventually comes up against a well built garden, with the very beginnings of sprouts. Shaded and obscured by surrounding trees, there is a small (but deep) natural pond, with a chuckling brook leading out of it, into the woods. There's a rope swing hanging from one of the trees. The yard to the southeast of the property stretches on for a time, and then is eaten by woods, into which there may or may not be a path; it apparently fades away quickly. There's a certain looming feel to these woods.
Contents:
Nicodemus
Tent(#1921A)
Obvious exits:
Narrow Path Sunrise Road Front Door Barn/Garage
Moros has arrived.
Nicodemus is seated indian style by the edge of the deep pond near the back of the meadow, contemplating the water's gently rippling surface. Or his navel. Or the wisdom of eating a fast food breakfast burrito. Whatever he's thinking about, he's thinking about something.
Slug has arrived.
Nicodemus is seated indian style by the edge of the deep pond near the back of the meadow, contemplating the water's gently rippling surface. Or his navel. Or the wisdom of eating a fast food breakfast burrito. Whatever he's thinking about, he's thinking about something.
Moros's approach is announced by the crunching of leaves, twigs, and other undergrowth; the huge Fury is not made for stealth and doesn't try. He comes out of the woods sweating a little, a sour and strong masculine reek about him from it and stops dead not far from the pond to stare at Nick like he's contemplating how best to remove the kin's eyes.
Nicodemus doesn't miss the crunching, snapping noises coming from behind him. He twists at the waist to look and see what is approaching and... "Uh. You need me to leave?" he asks as he registers the source of the sound being Moros. He's already halfway to his feet by the time the sentence is done, as if indicating that leaving was what he'd been planning to do all along anyway. No problem.
Moros flicks greasy hair out of his face with a jerk of his head and says, "You're kin to the Walkers. Do you know when it will be acceptable to go into the city again?" His hands, hanging at his sides, idly open and close.
Nick's cellphone buzzes. Saved by the bell? Well, no. The screen indicates he has a new text message.
Slug comes wandering from the direction of the woods, made somewhat distinct by his orange hoodie. The Gnawer's larger than he normally might be, likely in Glabro, and walking at a leisurely pace. He strides across the field toward the Metis and the Kinsman, a puff of smoke occasionally wafting over his head into the wind.
Nicodemus uhms at Moros' question as he finishes standing up. "I don't suspect it will be anytime soon. Not until we either learn more about The Suits, they leave, or they're otherwise dealt with." The latter possibility is left wiiiiide open for interpretation. He reaches for his cellphone, noticing Slug wearing fashionable "please don't shoot me, Mr. Hunter" colored attire, and offers a nod in the Gnawer's direction as he checks his messages.
There's one new message, but when Nick opens it, he finds something a little strange. The sender field is entirely empty. So is the actual message. The subject line seems to be a stream of nonsense characters and numbers, filled up entirely and likely cut off.
Moros grimaces, nose wrinkling. "They should be /dealt with/ then," the big man grumbles, fingers curling into fists. He looks over at Slug, giving the Gnawer a glowery death-stare.
Slug is indeed in Glabro, that much is apparent when he comes closer. There's a few angry patches of red, puffy skin on one hand. The Gnawer's face also has a few small red dots scattered across it, like someone shot him in the cheek with the world's tiniest shtogun. He glances from moros to Nic, grunts, waves, and puffs on his smoke.
"Brute force, directed against the government with the largest and most advanced military in the world, is not going to be productive. Subtlety and manipulation is far more likely to be successful--and not result in the entire sept and caern being leveled. The tradeoff is that it takes time." While Nick speaks, he's simultaneously squinting at his phone's screen, as if attempting to make sense of whatever jumble of stuff just came across his text message. He's cycling through coding languages he knows, the possibility of a corrupted image file inadvertently sent as a text, and some kind of encoded message. He barely looks up at Slug. "If that's a skin condition, tell me it's not contagious?"
You paged Nicodemus with 'A coding language is a distinct possibility, but if that's what it is, it doesn't seem familiar at all. And as if that weren't enough, if he tries to close the message, the screen seems to have frozen up. Or at the very least, that message isn't closing. And it'll take a bit to notice since Nick's always doing the gloves thing, and his hands are too warm anyhow, but the phone feels...warmer. A lot warmer.'.
Moros's attention snaps from Slug back to Nick as the Walker-kin speaks, and his eyes go wide with sudden rage -- and his whole body goes rigid as he clamps down on the onset of frenzy. He doesn't want to just calmly remove Nick's eyes now; he wants to turn the man into a fine red mist. And then maybe bathe in the blood and small body pieces.
Slug pulls out a pint-sized glass bottle and drops his nearly dead cigarette into it, sighing at Nic. "Fire isn't contagious." He reaches down into his hoodie for something, and pauses, his eye dancing from Moros, to Nic, and back again.
Nicodemus nods absently to Slug's words, eyes on the phone's screen and potentially oblivious to Moros' outrage. "The hell is this?" he says to no one in particular.
From afar, Nicodemus figures he might notice this upcoming pose. Battery removal an option? Or is this a throw it now situation? The pond is a likely recipient.
You paged Nicodemus with 'Warmer, and warmer, and--wow, it's like taking a baking sheet out of the oven with an oven mitt. And in a few seconds, it's starting to trend toward holding one /without/ the protective mitt. | Up to you! Whatever's going on, it's going on /fast/ though. Throwing might seem more prudent.'.
Nick's phone buzzes again, but this time it's much louder and...crankier sounding.
For some reason, Nick's very obliviousness enrages the Black Fury even more, and for a second his control slips a little -- he takes a step toward Nick, boiling up into the near-man form, massive hands with thickening nails coming up in a strangling motion -- and then, abruptly, he lets out a gutteral, half-human snarl and /stops/, clutching at his head, eyes squeezed shut.
Slug rolls his tongue across his lips and watches Moros with caution, edging closer to Nick as subtly as he can. He gives the Kinsman a poke in the side with one pointed nail, giving Moros a discrete nod of his head.
Nicodemus had been making a perplexed and confused face at his odd-acting smartphone. That changes right about the time that Moros clutches at his own head. Nick's expression shifts from being confused to being surprised. "Shit!" he says out loud, right as Slug pokes him in the side. He cocks an arm back and chucks what is probably a $300 phone straight into the pond as he suddenly becomes aware of what's going on around him. "Run!" he advises as he tries to choose a path that takes him away from Moros and the pond. If that path just so happens to use Slug as a human shield, then that was probably a complete accident.
Moros doesn't pay the slightest bit of attention to Slug or Nick or the phone heading toward a watery grave; the monster's far too occupied in strangling back his own destructive impulses. Thick, hair fingers twist and knot into the oily tangles of long black hair in what looks like an incredibly painful manner, and slowly, he sinks down to his knees, head lowered, overlong teeth bared.
Half a second after the phone hits the water, the pond's surface ripples with sparks of blue electrical current. Pity any water critters in that immediate area. It's certainly more charge than any cellphone should have, and it's followed by a few quick bubbles and a hiss of steam as the phone sinks out of immediate sight. All is well for a moment, and then ...that's about when something dark and vaguely human sized appears beneath the water, thrashing hard enough that droplets get flung everywhere.
"What, you think he's gonna chase it?" Slug says, glancing at Nic as the Kinsman takes off behind him. The confused Ragabash looks at the pond, then at Moros. He wriggles his fingers around against his palm, his fingernails dragging across his fake-leather gloves. Then, things just get weird in the pond. The Ragabash abruptly vanishes from sight, completely and utterly, leaving nothing but open space where he was standing seconds before.
Nicodemus decides the best course of action is to keep running. He does so, altering course so he'll be entering the nearby treeline, allowing for some cover from... Well, take your pick between weird phone incident or nearly frenzied ahroun. The meadow is not exactly a kin-friendly place anymore, and Nick aims to leave it promptly.
Moros, meanwhile, seems to be regaining self-control. He slowly shifts back down into his (relatively speaking) more normal human form and leans forward in his kneel to rest his palms against the ground. His head remains lowered, hair curtaining his face; his breathing is loud and harsh, though, and he's sweating all over.
The whatever in the water breaks the surface with a cacophony of coughing and sucking sounds--no, wheezing. Human-ish wheezing and coughing. And thrashing. It manages to get into the much shallower part of the pond entirely by accident, and that's about when it becomes clear that the thing in the water is not just human sized but human shaped, albeit a human shape that appears to be rapidly cycling through what can only be described as 'color static', as well as an unnatural blackness that has nothing to do with the light in the meadow. The shape solidifies a bit more, revealing a sodden mess that's...well, no, that's Mouse. Mouse with her color exposure seemingly tuned far too high, but definitely Mouse. A very wet, coughing and gagging homid form Mouse.
Nicodemus makes it into the treeline and keeps going further into the woods. For a short, scrawny guy, he can definitely run hard and fast.
Emma has arrived.
Moros shudders and sits up, hands resting on his thighs. He jerks hair away from his sweaty face and turns to stare over toward the pond, and for once the monster doesn't look like he's spoiling to inflict some random sadism on anyone; he looks haunted instead, and shaken. So he stares at Mouse coming out of the pond but doesn't really seem to be reacting much to the odd sight.
Mouse's thrashing subsides to unnatural, spasmodic body jerks, that, fortunately, seem to quickly become less and less frequent. Her color gradually dulls until it's appropriately 'real'. Between the gasps and coughing, her voice comes rather too loud, as if she were unaware of her current volume. "No, no,--" wheeze, "--no no no no. No. Nope. No. Nnnno." Splashing. "No. Stoppit. Stop. Sssstop. Stop talking. Stop. Seriously shut up. Stop. I can hear you now, /shut the fuck up/!"
Riley has connected.
Slug pops back into existance as easily as one might snap their fingers. The Ragabash's face twitches, and he stares at Mouse with wary curiosity. "You alright?" He rumbles, though it's not exactly clear which Metis the Glabro is speaking to.
Nicodemus gets some distance, trees, and visual cover between himself, Moros, and the pond he chucked his phone into--resulting in Mouse emerging from the waters a few seconds later. He finally stops, turning to look back, to verify he's not being pursued. He breathes heavily, eyes wide, adrenaline rush going full-tilt as he pauses to collect his wits. And maybe the remains of his dignity.
Oblivious seems to be the going trend for the day right now, as someone steps out of the house via the back door. Ear buds in her ears and an apparel designed for exercise suggest she's on the way out for a run. Until she spots the rather unusual circumstance playing out and the tail end of the kin's retreat. "Nick?!" she calls out even as she starts racing toward the man. Her head swivels even as she runs after him, trying to gauge what's going on, and seeing Moros and a suddenly reappeared Slug near the pond, finds a frown tipping into her features.
Moros looks from Mouse to Slug, that uncharacteristic /haunted/ look on his face still. He looks away after only a moment and slowly gets to his feet, looking like he's just finished an extra-long marathon.
It's rather hard to ignore the volume that Mouse's initial screams - and then shouted words - produce. The lake may be distant from the house, but it's not the most notoriously well-insulated building on the planet. Sound carries, travels, and brings along with it reactions. The front door to Edgewood House slams open on its hinges, unveiling a bleary-eyed ragabash still in pajama attire - oversized shirt, underwear. Avert thine eyes. Perhaps if they hadn't been on different ends of the house, Emma and Riley might have coordinated a more unified approach; instead, the Ragabash simply looks grouchy at having her tenuous grasp on sleep jarred yet again. It's a wonder why she even tries to sleep here, anymore. "What. The. /Fuck/." She grinds her heel against against the dirt, taking stock of the situation only after her words. Nick and Emma. Moros and Slug. ---Mouse? The ragabash's expression goes blank. A blink and a half, and she starts walking.
Mouse rolls onto her stomach with a low groan, and proceeds to spit up several mouthfuls of water. The action's made less easy by the fact that she keeps trying to clamp her hands over her ears, and she's still suffering from the random muscle seizure.
Nicodemus raises a hand in Emma's direction, indicating he's heard her call his name, all the while staying behind the trunk of a tree and peering from behind it so he can see what's going on over by the pond.
Slug offers Moros his hand when the Metis looks his way, but after a few seconds, he seems to think better of it. He retracts it and sticks it into the pocket of his hoodie, looking on at Mouse with a stony face. He grunts and shuffles toward the water with his shoulders squared, his head lowered, the fingers on his right and twitching and strumming as if plucking the cords of an invisible guitar. He squats beside Mouse and takes a good look at her, sniffing, watching as she sputters and chokes for air.
Emma looks from Nick back to the pond, and seeing Slug already over there, stays course toward the kin. Her pace doesn't slow until she reaches him, and a hurried, "You okay? What's going on?" is tossed out.
Moros starts walking off without further word to anyone.
Nicodemus pages: Scan! Is Mouse Mouse?
You paged Nicodemus with 'Mouse is Mouse! With something extra.'.
The state of Nick's wellbeing is callously ignored by his employee and friend, who advances across the yard toward the pond with single-minded intent, at a rather swift walk, then a brisk jog, and finally a run. Heedless of all the precautions and wariness being taken, Riley tromps right on into the shallows, slogging her bare ankles through the mud and water to advance the last several steps, her fingers squeezed into balled fists. Her voice is incredibly quiet, when she speaks. "...Chief?"
Mouse doesn't seem particularly aware of all of the activity around her. She has no response for Slug or Riley, not even a glance to show that she's noticed they're there. After bringing up a few more mouthfuls of pond water, and clapping her hands once more to her ears, she abruptly starts laughing. And laughing. "Four Gee, /my ass/."
Nicodemus holds up a hand towards Emma, as if signaling that he needs a moment longer. Then the hand lowers, though there's a slight frown. Nick then explains, "My phone nearly blew up, so I threw it in the lake, and then Moros nearly frenzied on me, and then Mouse--or what looks and sounds like Mouse--came out of my cell phone. Underwater." Because that makes sense, right? "I need more time. And a cellphone. You have your phone?" he asks of the Get ahroun. He doesn't promise to return it in good shape and current events might suggest he ought not be given another cell phone.
From afar, Nicodemus shall continue to study! Unless it's plotty-foo. In which case he does not succeed.
You paged Nicodemus with 'It's Mouse, and a whole Mouse (albeit one who seems to be...having some troubles probably related to coming out of a short circuiting phone underwater). Nick might pick up on the fact that she has that gun magazine fetish on her. And...something else. Something fetishy or fetish-like or just plain fetish, but this one's attached--no, /part of/ her back.'.
From afar, Nicodemus deems this to be acceptably in the weirdness dept.
"I think you just maxed out Nic's data plan," Slug dryly remarks, looking down at the Walker Elder on the ground. He stands back up again and glances in Riley's direction, seemingly bemused about something. He shakes his head and pulls out his cigarettes, sparking one up. "I just told Salem you're bad. He'll be glad you can go back to being at the helm of the SS Shitstorm."
Emma blinks twice and finds her mouth dropping open in shock. She nods though, and steps closer ever so slowly for the Walker kin, handing her phone over. As the phone is handed off she turns back to see if she can spy Moros anywhere, and is left staring at the pond a bit.
Nicodemus starts up a text message and then, midway through it, he hands the phone back to Emma. "I was going to text Salem, but then I remembered that you could probably get in touch with him faster. Could you?" he requests, then seemingly rediscovering Slug, he adds, "If he hasn't been already?"
Riley is not what one would call especially composed - even if she got over to the pond ably enough, she's now all but rooted in place those last few feet away from her Elder, her expression conveying so much that it may as well be a wash as to what she's thinking. Excitement and worry factor most heavily. She doesn't stay awkwardly frozen forever, mercifully. One step, followed by another. She crouches low, her ratty, over-sized shirt dragging into the shallows. "Mouse." She speaks, more firmly, her hand outstretching and settling on the deliriously laughing metis's back.
Moros has reached the treeline by the time Emma looks for him and passes it without looking back. The monster's not moving fast, though, or trying to be stealthy, so could be followed wasily if someone wanted to do so. Otherwise, he's obviously leaving.
Emma takes the phone back. "We have. He's been made aware. You okay?" she asks again before turning the next question. "Did she come out of your /phone/?"
Riley gets an unexpected zap from the touch, though thankfully it's not much more than your average static shock. That it comes from a soaking wet metis might be a little unusual. Mouse continues laughing, though it dies down fairly quickly. "Okay, okay. Really. Okay. I'm okay. That's a little too much--" She coughs harshly, and then chuckles. One hand moves from her ear to her face, lightly tracing water and mud over it. "Hi, Riley."
"You're too damn happy soundin' to be Mouse," Slug rumbles, takes a pull off his cigarette. "You got the same skin, but you don't seem like the same person. Did you do some freaky Theurge shit and get hijacked by a Roach spirit or something?" Slug stretches his legs out and takes a few steps back from the pond's edge, putting some space between himself and the Walkers.
"Good," Nick says to Emma. "I think she may have come out of my phone," he confirms. "I think." He encourages Emma, "Go get filled in.Check her out. I need to get out of here." He starts making a wide circle around the garou so he can get back to his Suburban parked in the driveway.
Riley's fingers retreat momentarily at the static-shock, but replace themselves soon after. Her other hand still looks tensed enough that her nails are doubtless digging uncomfortable furrows into her skin, threatening at any time to draw blood. At least, that is, until Mouse replies. Her fingers slowly uncurl and her arm slacks enough that her fingers drift down into the water. The ones in contact with Mouse's back subtly tighten, the Ragabash's eyes taking on a slightly glassen shean. "---You're home." Riley murmurs, trying her very able best not to sound completely choked up.
Emma gives a little nod to the kin, a frown unmistakeably present across her eyes as she watches him go. As the kin heads out, she turns and jogs over to the pond, eyes wary and posture just a little bit defensive. She steps up next to Slug and gives him a nod even as she eyes the two Walkers greeting each other. "So hey... things alright here?" It's an understated question of the most epically vague proportions.
You paged Riley with 'There's something on her back, between the shoulder blades. The coat she's wearing, even soaking wet, covers it up pretty well, but Riley can feel it. Something hard and unyielding.'.
Riley pages: It's PRESENTS! Mouse is Santa.
"Yeah," Mouse says. And then, as Emma comes over, she says, "Yeah," again, in identical fashion, without lifting her head. "Alive, home, that's me." The soaking wet Walker Theurge starts to push to her feet. The motion is smooth, unhampered, and there's no sign of stress or pain at the effort on Mouse's face.
Nicodemus slips across the meadow to his car in the driveway. He loiters there, in relative safety for a bit, watching things unfold at a distance.
Slug eyes Mouse like a spooked dog, his shoulders rising, his brutish face taking a turn for the uneasy as she moves. Slug fades back a few steps, his booted feet barely making a sound on the ground. He glances sidelong at Emma and growls, the tone low and wary. Both of his hands slide into the belly pockets of his hoodie as he retreats back a good five or ten feet, little by little.
Glancing down at her hand for a moment when it slides off of Mouse's standing form, Riley looks quizzical for all of a moment before glancing up. Slug's growling gets a blank turn of the Ragabash's head and a sour look to go along with it. The Adren stays crouched, glancing back at Mouse, rather looking as though if she removes her eyes from her for a moment, she might up and disappear again. "...Mission accomplished?" She ventures, nodding her head in Mouse's direction.
"I guess a welcome home is in order," Emma offers with a slight grin. A deep breath follows though, akin of one taking on a more professional manner. "Rather interesting method of return there Mouse, hope you can forgive the wariness." The Get glances toward Slug for a moment and tips her head at him in silent communication. "Riley, you got anyone you can call that can check things out here? This is obviously, out of my realm of normal."
Mouse finally flicks a glance toward Slug, with a faint arch of her eyebrows. After a beat, she looks back to Riley, nods, and then, finally, looks to Emma. "I wasn't exactly aiming for a phone, but I got a little turned around in the Web," she says, sounding weary. "Definitely wasn't aiming for a phone underwater."
Slug 's shoulders square up when she looks at him, as if he were expecting her to do *something*. When she looks away, he looks at Emma, and turns on his heel. The Gnawer starts walking away at a brisk pace, cutting through the fields with long-legged strides. Every so often he glances across his shoulder, but unless he's stopped, he continues straight on to the house and heads inside.
With a decidedly strange look trained on Slug, Riley turns her head from him, back to Mouse, before side-eyeing Emma. "Insofar as checking whether or not Mouse has been, what, taken over by 1s and 0s?" She glances back to Mouse, sidebarring, "Everyone's just as ridiculously paranoid as when you left, you'll be happy to know."
Emma doesn't do or say anything to stop Slug's retreat, but at Riley's question she gives a very solemn nod. "Yeah." There's only a brief pause before she clarifies the why, more for Mouse's sake than anything else. "Given the amount of weaver trouble we're potentially facing down just now, I'd rather play it safe than sorry. The Walkers have already had to evacuate the Tenement due to the crap going on and have had one of theirs taken by the Suits -who we have determined to be clones. So until Salem can get in touch with you, yeah, playing it safe." A pause, "And Salem's been alerted to the fact you've just gotten back."
Mouse gives Riley a thumbs-up with both hands at her remark. "Good. I think I'll be...I need a nap. And a shower. And a clothes dryer. And then a fucking cheeseburger, because /god/. I hope you guys can be properly paranoid with all that, because the batmobile's still in Portland." She starts to say more, but her mouth just ends up slightly open at Emma's reference to many many things. "...What? No. /No/. Seriously, I'm having that goddamned cheeseburger before any of whatever you just said."
Riley opens her mouth, then closes it, letting Emma do the filling-in, until Mouse once more expresses her hunger. "Oh. Shit, yeah. You've been --- yeah, um. Damn, well... I dunno about a cheeseburger, but I can make you some eggs, or I'm sure there's some leftover Kung Pao in the fridge?"
Emma frowns slightly, "Don't mean to dump bad news in your lap when you've just gotten home. But I needed you to know why the extra precautions. I can probably get Nick to run out and bring you a cheeseburger back here, and anything else you might need or want from in town. And Salem can grab anything you need from the tenement. We'll hold off on the rest of the update until later. I'm sure Riley can act as point for whatever you need to do as far as tribal affairs go."
"Cheeseburger," Mouse simultaneously agrees, and insists. She starts walking toward the house--walking, not limping. There's not a hint of a limp to her stride at all, it seems perfectly normal, which for her is entirely abnormal. "I'll take some eggs and Kung Pao in the meantime."
Riley casts a glance back to Emma - one that unequivocally conveys 'I've got this' - before managing a quick jog to catch up to Mouse. "Eggs and leftover chinese, comin' up. You're gonna hate yourself in a few hours."
Emma takes in the Walker elder's condition as the trio makes for the house, and as Riley heads on ahead of them, she makes note of it. "I'll admit to not knowing much about what you were up to. Only that you were heading toward Walker-sort of places. You look good. A lot better than when you left. That's gonna be good news for a lot of folks."
Mouse pulls up the collar of her sopping coat as she continues on toward the house. "Maybe," she allows, around a yawn. And to Riley, "I'll take the risk."
"Jacinta took alphaship, as a side note. And Silvertip is back as well, though, female." A pause, "Salem's been looking after things in the city." Emma sighs, "I seriously don't want to just dump all this on you. Fuck it. Eggs and kung-pao."
