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"Praire Lake Park? That's several miles from here. How in the world... I suppose I best not dwell on what I wouldn't understand. Do you intend to go back? If so, I suggest you leave now. The city can be dangerous after dark, and the dangerous stuff has a tendency to find Garou more than it finds normal folk."
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"I'm not Erwin Rommel, but the idea of returning to a place of descecration after time has passed for whatever Wyrm-creature resides there to regroup and organize themselves does not sound apt.
Is there a pre-arranged location to rendezvous should the pack become separated in the field? This Deep Fang might be waiting there, planning a counter-offensive."
"Depends on who you mean by they. From what you described, I don't think the man in the park would be checking registration numbers on abandoned cars. But you should know, something like that will eventually attract the attention of the Men in Black. Eventually they would get around to collecting your registration number." He says with a very serious look on his face.
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"So I take it you haven't heard of them. I can't say that doesn't surprise me. I heard it from a couple bone gnawers that I give leftovers to from time to time. They look like men, they kinda even look like government agents, but they're not. Supposedly there is always two of them, always in black suits and a black car. They supposedly serve the weaver. I don't know about that. But the weaver is order, and their purpose is to maintain order. Supposedly. When they show up, stuff disappears. Anything that doesn't belong, Vampires, Banes, especially Garou, they erase them from the scene. When they leave, the gauntlet is always strong in that area. Consider this your warning. I've never seen one, I don't think, and I don't know if they would even bother me, but they will bother you folk. So be careful."
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"Oh," Jason says as the bartender explains himself. "Those men in black. I thought they were just urban legends made up by people who think they've seen other weird things." He laughs slightly. "Then again," he points to himself, "werewolf..."
"That certainly sounds good to me," Jason says as he finishes his meal, slightly annoyed that his story going long caused it to get cold. "Hopefully, the others are all right and have just returned home. If not..." his voice trails off.
Lifa slowly stood up as the others did so - her mind going over whether or not they'd be going back to the den of these two...only to discover that this "robed man" got there first.
"Onwards Christian soldiers." Laughs at Blood's smile returned. He scratched his chin. "Oh yes, I forgot to say my tribe. Red Talon." His smile deepened.
Softpaws missed a step and stumbles a bit, but recovers quickly. "I, uh, also have a phone. But, no, no one else in the pack does. That's how this whole mess started: Jackdaw never came home and we went to the park to find him."
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"That's something we should remedy, swiftly." Lifa added as she pulled herself away from the table. "I can dedicate some ear-piece radio's for in the field, and there are other means of staying in touch over longer distances."
The four of you agree to head back to the safe house together, seeing a purpose that you would meet in such a random place. You bid the Bartender a goodbye, and leave him with a bill that he doesn't seem concerned about. The trip is time consuming, but uneventful. You have to walk to the nearest Metra station, wait for the right train to come, take it back to the station, and from there switch trains to go back to the suburbs. Not all of you are used to taking the train, and the main station is very crowded and loud with random train horns blaring. Like many places of the city, you get random smells of the wyrm here. The scents are not strong, but any scent is always disturbing to your kind.
Overall because of the lack of planning the trip back, it takes you about three hours to get home. So the crowded taxi would be pulling into your driveway at about 8 pm. If there is anything you would like to discuss among yourselves along the way, feel free to do it now.
And the final thing of note is for Hour-tales. At about 7pm he receives an email from the glass walkers. (I'm assuming his phone checks email).
Spoiler
Big moot just called for Friday in Kenosha. 9pm. All Garou required to attend. Dire news to be discussed. Pass it along.
The location of the Moot you would already know, having been there at least once. It's located just over the border of Wisconsin, about a 90 minute drive from Elgin.
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"Looks like we've been invited to a party," Jason says to the others as he reads the e-mail from his fellow Glass Walkers. He looks out from the train's windows for a brief second before explaining. "Kinda far away in Kenosha," he continues. "Although, I think that they wouldn't be all that happy if we missed this one. It's this Friday."
"A car might be a good investment." Lifa added, getting out of the taxi and looking around the neighborhood. For several seconds she was reminded of the upper middle-class suburbia she had left home in Australia, and what might have been if she had never underwent her First Change at an advanced age.
Last edited by BananaPhone : 08-26-2012 at 05:42 PM.
The taxi turns into Catherine lane, and as you have suspected, the vehicle is not parked in the driveway. You notice one of the tenants of the Rodriguez household smoking a cigarette on their back porch as you drive by it. They seem to be watching the strange Taxi.
After getting out and paying the driver, the taxi zips out of the neighborhood like a bat out of hell.
Softpaws carefully approaches the door, sniffing the air for the taint of wyrm. Her senses are not as strong as her other forms, however even in Homid form she always can detect a low level smell of the wyrm from the pollution in the nearby river. The smell has always annoyed her, but being the only presence of the wyrm she smells at the moment, she gladly accepts it.
Entering the household, it looks just like you left it. Minus the hot stew Softpaws was cooking that is now long cold. Hour-tales and Softpaws look around for signs of their pack-mates, but notice nothing. Then hour-tales notices a message has been left on their machine. Playing it, you are both relieved to hear the sound of deepfang's voice. His voice sounds strange, weaker than normal.
"Softpaws, Hour-Tales, it's me. I pray that you somehow made it home, and get this message. Trashcan and I are alive. Badly hurt, but alive. Jackdaw wasn't so lucky. We're in a safe place for now. Stay there until we return." He says simply. And with that he hangs up, leaving the four of you in an awkward silence.
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"I'd still like to go back and see if my laptop's still there at least," Jason says as Lifa mentions the car being compromised. "I don't want to go through the trouble of buying a new one and getting everything on it again. That said, I doubt that it's still there anymore. I just kinda threw it in the seat when everything went down."
They enter the house and play the message from Deep Fang, Jason looks slightly disturbed as he listens to his Alpha in pain. "What do you think?" he asks the others. "Trap, right? Or isn't it?"
"Deepfang you idiot! If you're hurt, I could find you and help you..." Softpaws mutters thickly. She continues to listen to message on repeat, three or four more times.
Spoiler
I have 3 dots of empathy and have known Deepfang a long time. Can I try to tell if its an imposter or if its really him talking?
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Re: IC Werewolf:TA-Chicago
