November 24, 2002.11.24.02. - happy dale - part 1 [decker-rune-bastion] *njb[north jersey - .11.18.02.]
(ST)
Lighting kissed the sky along the line of the horizon before a whispering of thunder started to chase the wind, ending in a sudden roar. The air was wet and heavy, promising rain once more to fall in a deluge that would drown the streets. Perhaps it was a portent to come or more likely it was just the season. The rain starts as a patter before steadily becoming harder, denizens of the night scurrying for cover wherever they could find it.The bus terminal was filled with bums and hobos, tramps and trollops, shift workers and businessmen seeking shelter from the down pour. What a night...
(rune)
It's a late model... something. Non-descript, with generic New Jersey plates and a dull blue exterior unlikely to draw any eyes, even when it pulls into the bus station parking lot. Even when three Ahrouns climb out of the interior, underneath the light of the growingly full moon.One. More. Night.
The wind picks up, scattering Rune's inky hair every which way as she climbs out of the rental car and dashes toward the entrance to the bus station. She's dressed down tonight: leather pants, white t-shirt, leather coat over them, and a pair of well-worn hiking boots, clothing her packmates would recognize, by now, as her dedicated clothing.
...just in case.
As she pulls on the rightmost of the double-doors, it swings open more quickly than she had anticipated and sends a welcome blast of dry, hot air billowing out into the frigid November storm. She ducks inside quickly, pushing the door out behind her for her packmates and chafing her cold hands for warmth, then waits for James to lead them to the leeches' box.
(decker)
Decker rode in the back, lounging sideways in the seat, watching the rainwet world slide by outside. He gets out a beat slower than his packmates. The weather was getting too cold for a simple sweatshirt, so recently he'd made a trip down to the Goodwill store and picked out an old winter coat for ten or fifteen bucks. It probably used to be black, but years of exposure and weather rendered it an uneven charcoal grey a long time ago. There are mended holes along the collar. Overstuffed, it manages to swallow even the Modi's ripped frame.Let's do it. Let's finish it. Without a word, he waits to move with his packmates.
(ST)
A small pale nervous man, forehead blotched with sweat, with a slight hunch, buck teeth and fidgety eyes sidles up to Rune as she sweeps into the bus station. He wrings his hands with some degree of agitation."Do you have the time, Miss?" Shift. Shift. Nervous glance around.
(james)
during the rental of the non-descript car
he waited quietly
during the weaving of a path through the drenched streets
he waited quietly
during the steady walk towards the double doors of the bus station
he waited.... still.... quietly
the only sound is that of tanker boots in puddles soaking the hems of gray cargoscalm as the Gnawer's exterior may be
deep down, he can't help the slight itch of nerves
that creeping rake of the full moon shining down on the tops of the weeping clouds
just because he can't see it
doesn't mean he can't feel it
crawling up his spine beneath the t-shirt
crawling around him like the billowed breaths fogging in the chilled airrather than watching where he's going through the maze of lockers
those dark umber eyes are down, watching his hands
fingers spinning through a countless number of keys on a very strange ring
pausing over a fairly non-descript (since that is tonight's theme) brass number
and once that is removed
it's reattached to a bright orange hangtag produced from yet another pocket of the tattered trenchhe was playing it safe
only after he stops
does he look up
ah, yes, there it is
key slid home
tumbler turned
banged up old door swinging open to reveal!one. non-descript. cookie. tin.
after all they'd been through you'd expect so much more
key returned to its rightful home in the locker
the door flipping shut
let's go(rune)
The young woman flickers a narrow-eyed glance at the stranger approaching her, and glances at her bare wrist. Her mouth slip-slides into a customary smirk as she shakes her head mutely, then lifts her chin in the direction of the terminal proper, with its seedy waiting rooms just beyond the ticket counters."Try there." Dismissive enough, the words and the lifting glance and the body language, arms crossing defensively in front of her chest.
(decker)
There's an audible snort from the Modi as the cookie tin is revealed. What. Came all this way fer grammaw's cookies? After all that build-up, he'd at least expected something a little more...impressive. Like a sarcophagus or something. Or a jewelry box, at least.There's a rustle of old stiff cotton as Decker shrugs the oversized coat up a little, turns, and starts walking out. Still got that thug sway going. Still got his arms hanging loose at his sides, shoulders moving in the place of the swinging hands.
(ST)
The little hunched man's eye flick to the ticket counter. A shuffle from foot to foot. Far too much nervous energy as he wrings his hands, occasionally moping his brow causing his bad comb-over to just get worse."Yes. Yes. Thank you. Yes."
He scurries away like a cockroach would if you flicked on the bathroom light in the middle of the night.
(rune)
Rune spares a glance for the scurrying little man, then nods her head. Some faint echo of assent slipslides across the totem phone. Wordless agreement, unnecessary to be sure, but still oddly comforting, the awareness of pack's presence, the unspoken agreement, even the way they move almost in concert, like a well-oiled machine, like an orchestra guided by an unseen but skilled conductor.She's turning as soon as James has the tin box, outflung hand opening the glass door for her packmates. Dark hair flies as the changing air pressure sets the heaters to blast, once more engaging their neverending battle against the season.
Open, then out. And then across the parking lot gleaming wet and filled with refuse, toward the blue rental car.
(james)
a brow lifts
slightly
yea, he expected more, toobut if you think about it he did get the sarcophagus
the juicy mummy, toohe's also well versed in not judging something by its packaging
although now is not the time for such discussions
now is the time for returning to the car
and he does.... rather quickly(ST)
Thunder rolls, lighting flashes and the down pour continues ominously.(decker)
Decker follows...not as quickly, slamming himself back into the back seat and propping his now-wet shoes up on the far armrest. He faces the bus station and, from time to time, tosses glances over the trunk of the car as he waits for Rune to drive 'em out of there.(rune)
Rune dashes through the storm and slides into the driver's seat, turning the engine over and slapping the heat to high. Fucking. Rain.As soon as her packmates are safely inside, she flips on the headlights and pulls out of the parking lot, out onto the rainswept streets towards the lovely destination she scouted out earlier this afternoon.
Heavenly Hideaway.
VAC N YIt's not precisely heavenly: the decrepit pool, an eyesore of fading, peeling blue littered with fallen leaves; the cracked, weedstrewn parking lot, mostly empty at this time of the year; the seedy rooms with their sagging beds complete with Magic Fingers machines (25 Cents for Three Minutes of Bliss!); the greasy desk clerk who leered at Rune as he gave her the roomkey before returning to his feast of donuts and black sludge masquerading as coffee.
Rune climbs back into the idling car, cursing under her breath at the weather, and pulls into the space in front of Room 10. There's another dash between the raindrops, under the eaves, and ten seconds spent fiddling with the worn key before the door swings open. Paradise, it's not, but it's nice and private at least. Flicking on the overhead light, she tosses the key on the bureau, and then parks herself beside it, waiting for her packmates to join her.
(james)
paradise or not
it's shelter
it's private
..... in that don't ask don't tell sort of way
but the Gnawer doesn't seem to be affected either way
the ground eating stride taking him from the car and into the roomone Ahroun stopping to stand before the foot of the bed
one box held in his hands
one pair of eyes dropping to study it
silent
contemplativethen he turns
handing the little tin to Decker
those dark eyes finding Rune'sPlease don't do this.
sometimes, you don't need words to communicate
not in that way
not with that look
before the door even closes
he's heading back out into the rainhe gave his word
he made a deal
he's not breaking any part of it
no matter who he made it withthere's also the issue of that warning.....
(ST)
Thunder roars, tumbling across the darkened sky as lightning forks along the horizon, striking at some unknown point in the distance. The flash of bright light is enough, however as the illumination blazes the motel lot alight in a holy white-blue aura. It reveals a presence to James, a figure leaning in a doorway, one room down from where the pack had decided to 'set up shop'(rune)
Rune turns away from James' glance, looking down through the seedy room toward the darkened alcove where the sink and vanity are. She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror, the hard set of her graceful jaw, the opaque darkness of her eyes, the unfamiliar scowl curling her red-painted mouth definitively downward. She pauses then, studying her reflection, it seems, absently pushing a few inky strands away from her face and back behind her ear."Call him." The dark eyes close, and her hands curl up into slender fists. The red nails dig painfully into the pale skin before she flares her hands wide. She doesn't even manage to look back at him, though her gaze does drag away from her shadowy reflection in the dim, spotted mirror above the sink. "There's a condition, though. No more promises to leeches. Ever. At least not without Erik's permission."
Which, on reflection, means pretty much... ever.
(decker)
Decker looks at the box.
Runes speaks.
Decker looks at Rune.You want lightning? This is lightning.
The crackle in his eyes. The blaze in the grey. The-- no. Eyes drop. "Shouldn'a given 'im the go-ahead in the first place." No direct contest; no agreement either. But then, that didn't make a difference. Rune calls the shots here.
(james)
distraction is a beautiful thing
and that's what he looks for outside the door
not thinking about them
(not thinking about her)
not thinking about the box
not thinking about what could happen to her should the warning be true
distraction is what leads him to look around in the whitewash flarehello there
the words call him back
there's a breif ticktock of vision
the figure, the room, the figure, the room..... well shit
that made it simple
his head tips a little
before heading back inside"If I had known then what I do now, I wouldn't have made the deal. I should have stuck with my first instinct and not involved any of you, regardless of Pack."
instantly regretted
it was important to him but not them
what do they care about the rats
but it didn't deserve the harsh tone that colored the words
tattered tails flaring in spin to sit on the bed
dark eyes watching the still open doora lot of shoulds, a lot of woulds
at least they've lived long enough to learn
(and what will you do if a second pack dies because of you, hm, James?)at least he won't have to search his pockets for the number
(sebastian)
Lily of the Valley. The odorous floral scent that had been their first ofacultary impression of the young man that appeared in the doorway of the motel room not long after James wandered back in. He was framed by the door, illuminated by lightnight and then shrouded into a cloak of sem-darkness as the motel light outside the room door hadn't been changed since it blew several years ago. His hair was sleek with rain and slicked back from his face (milky, perfect complexion), his long coat dripping puddles around his feet. HIs expression... unreadable."Gentleman." A nod in the men's direction, although his eyes barely acknowledge Decker's existance.
"Miss." A bare nod to Rune.
"Shall we get this over and done with?"
(decker)
Decker isn't surprised to see the lovely young man sauntering in. Not at all.The Modi looks down at the box in his hands and, without any flourishes, any grandiosity, anything marking this as somehow different from opening a can of cookies - pries the lid off.
All that remains is hope, right?
(ST)
To the world, the time is merely a blink of an eye...To them: the room gradually starts to grow bigger in turn with the box that starts to enlarge right there in Decker's hands. Larger... Larger... LARGER. To the point that even the Modi wouldn't be able to cradle the cookie tin in even his Crinos form. Eventually Decker must drop the box, lest he finds himself crushed beneath its weight. As it tumbles towards the ground, loosened from any humanly grip, it grows evern larger, more quickly, flipping, tumbling, twirling as it goes.
The world distorts, changes, grows and warps. The box still tumbles, but they were shrinking at a rate faster than the box was to grow and.... then there is...
Darkness...
(james)
there's a bit of a nod
acknowledging
then his eyes lock on the Modi
and the growing box
and, well, he can't avoid the darkness......fuck me, Alice
(rune)
Rune's dark eyes flicker across Sebastian as he waltzes in, but her pale face is a shuttered mask. Her chin rises faintly in acknowledgment - but only faintly - and she says nothing.For the moment, she watches, arms crossed about her abdomen, her loose, even languid posture belying her underlying alertness, ready for whatever will come.
...and then. "Fuck." the curse, spoken aloud and echoing through the totem phone at one and the same time. It's a shame about her jacket - she should've taken it off once they made it into the hotel room - the sound of tearing leather as the world expands and expands and Rune changes into her mottle-coated (mutt that she is) war-form.
Her sharpened senses - scent and taste and even touch - must compensate for the loss of vision in the dark.
The hell happened? her mind-voice, not panicked, not yet, but far from calm, thrums with the awareness of rage so close to the surface, you guys okay?
Give her an enemy she can rend and tear.
(decker)
Damned if I know, comes the Modi's less-than-amused mindvoice. Funny; in his mind he still sounds the way he did before Asher's knife put an iron file into his tongue. Not as raspy. Less of a gravelly undertone.The sound of inhaling: the Modi sniffs the air. Then, the sound of hands running over bark, moving about, touching things to get the feel of his surroundings. Finally one hand lands on James' forearm entirely by accident.
Found James, comes the grim play-by-play. Goin' wolf.
Crack-pop.
(ST)
And the first thing that happens to Rune is that she soundly bumps right up into a thick smooth branch of some discription... The first thing that Decker feels is something small scarpper across one of his feet, a bare tap of little feet using his foot as a spring board... The first thing James would have felt in a delicate hand catch his upper arm, as if to steady the young Bonegnawer, before releasing just as quickly for many and varied reasons.For only a splash of a moment there is a gleam of red shining in the darkness, piercing the veil for before dying without a trace.
(rune)
Christ. Thrashing, as her overlarge war-form leaves her trapped within the thick growth. Distasteful as it is (and to her, with so few opportunities to use the lupus form, and little enough experience with it, it is quite distasteful), Rune follows Decker's lead, half-snarling as she shapes close-growing branches and limbs and her body folds back in upon itself to her lupus form, less blind in the darkness than her homid form. Wolf. Me too. Not as good at this as you, Decker. Take lead?The beast-mind is an alien thing, more instinctive than even her war-form. As she assumes the form, she struggles against the beast-mind, asserting her human will over instinct to keep some of her faculties intact.
Scents, sharp; sounds, just as sharp. At least she's not blind in the dark.
(james)
if you can't see the forest for the trees
where are you when you can't even see the trees?
pine-sol, perfect
that's all he needs
already he's going to be flattened should they survive this trip to Wonderland
now he can't even smell the roses along the wayTwo, ten, eleven.
his only reply, mumbled
other than the start at Decker's fist closing around his arm
the delicate touch on the other
steadying.... startling....
then the snap of bone and muscle as it shifts
now untouched arm shooting out to the side
(follow that warmth you know so well, James)
fingers touching fur before it gets below his reach
Found Rune!what the hell
less to snag on trees
the Gnawer follows suit
one gray wolf, one mottled wolf, and one shaggy shepard mix
aren't they the poster children for Animal Planet(decker)
It's the gleam of red that catches his attention first; his gut instinct - which is all there is in his mind now, really, unless he forced himself to hold onto what is human about him - is to follow it. Then the scamper of feet over his paw causes the wolf-shaped Fenrir to move - a fluid-smooth whirl as his teeth snap (delicately) closed in the direction the animal(?) had gone.Spiritworld still open? Inhale, exhale. Sniff. Still smell the pretty one.
(Sebastian)
"I am going to kill New Jerrrsssey."Sebastian's voice isn't as controlled and soft as it normally was, lisping and twisting on his tongue as he spoke, his r's rolling and his s's slurred.
(rune)
The brush of her head against James' flank, comforting and reassuring. At least, thus far, the pack had not lost each other. Her muzzle stretches out and forward, pushing against the invisible barrier that separates the spiritworld from the mundane world, so tensile in the city, but still permeable. Non-existant here.Can't sidestep. No... gauntlet. Dirt flies from sharp paws as she digs into the forest floor. Soil below. Hear that? Change back see what leech knows.
(decker)
Bristling, the grey wolf. His hackles are up and even in the perfect darkness, his packmates can feel it. Not natural.Rune begins to shift up, and Silence slips alongside her, the distal tips of his thick fur brushing along her thigh. Nonverbal statement: he's there.
Was a red light in the distance. Should follow after you ask. Maybe.
(james)
"Why, Bastion......"even just hearing the words
he already began the reverse
tattered tails (there's a reason he didn't wear the gift) snagging on the twigs and branches
boots sinking into the soil
crouched beside his packmates
reaching out to brush fingertips over fur
(returning the comfort on one end)
he can't smell them out here
not in this pine-sol
not even when he was lupus
his voice as soft as the slurred murmur"Who's New Jersey?"
(ST)
"Sssomeone who'sss going to get a verrry sssound thrrrassshing."Strange, coming from Bastian, these words. He'd never shown any penchant for violence in the past, being cool and calm and... creepy. Now he just sounded pissed off. Who wouldn't be in this situation?
In the distance, far away and faint, is the sound of a single word being chanted over and over again. The word "NIGIGIN" is carried on the wind and following the word is the sound of a twenty-five piece orchestra playing In 'The Hall Of The Mountain King'.
(decker)
Low, "Yer gonna git a very sound thrashin' if you don't tell us where the fuck we are."That voice came from approximately three feet too low. Either Decker was crouching, or he'd only bothered to shift his vocal cords. Likely the latter, given the slightly strained sound of his voice; the slightly different timbre and resonance.
A tilt of the wolf-head. "'N who's Nigigin?"
(ST)
"Don't start with me, boy."He never has threatened any of them before, and this was not necessarily a threat. It was a warning. A caution. Sebastian sounded to be in about as happy a mood as they were. His voice also came from a completely different direction than it did when he previously spoke.
"It's a word, obviously. Ritualistic in nature."
More calm, more sedate, his r's no longer rolling and the slurring ceased... and his voice from yet another space a good ten feet or so away from their location, if hearing is to be accurately judged in this strange, twisted place.
(james)
there's a bit of a nod
useless in the darkness, of course, but it's there
lower lip sucked in thought
thoughts murmured out loud"That's why Dimmy called you Aslan"
referring to the slur
"You wear a mask, too."
another moment or three of silence
and he has a feeling that growling voice is going to turn around and bite his arm off for this one
but he's figured out that Bastion is here unwillingly, too
and wants out just as badly"What's your take, Bastion. What do we need to do to get out...."
(decker)
A silent peel of lips back from teeth. None of them can see it; all of them can feel it. Stiff-legged, the wolf stalks forward a step, two."Where. are. we."
(rune)
Furred flank sliding along James' calf, still close enough enough to feel the heat from Silence's form, the Glass Walker tilts her head in a canine gesture and cocks her ears to the side, monitoring the lilt of music on the strange wind.The rustle of the forest floor beneath the gray wolf's feet, echoed by the creak of James' weight on the leaves, swiveling her head to catch what she can of the leech's movements in the dark forest and waiting for... answers.
(ST)
"Dimitria has a fertile imagination, I will give the child that."The voice was now so close to James that it may have well been whispered in his ear for him and him alone. A presence at his back for all but a moment.
"As to where we are, your guess is as good as mine right now. I suggest we follow the music, unless you'd prefer to just stand here?"
Carried on the wind, mixing with the insistant chant and orchestral music, was the words "Doberah Ora Ba" and but a flick of time later the glowing outline of a unicorn appears in the distance, leaping away from them and running through the forest.
(decker)
A sharp turn of his head: predatory. Eyes track the fleet and fleeing image of the unicorn. Beneath his iron pelt, his muscles tense, ready to spring after it - predator to prey, carnivore to herbivore.The unicorn passes from sight and the instinct subsides. His muscles relax, and with a single whuff, the grey beast turns toward the music.
Let's move, then.
Bastian does not hear that, but surely the vampire hears the pad of the wolf's large paws away.(rune)
Let's go. the response echoes through her packmates minds. Rune has not bothered to shift even her vocal chords, and the mind-sound is thick with feral overtones. Me first. Silence follow scent. Not too close. Bring James. Stay aware of leech.With that, the mottled wolf, too, takes off toward the music, drawing herself into a slow lope to pass her packmate. If they were to get separated, she would find it difficult to follow the Fenrir's scent, even with the instinctual drive of her beast-mind. The music washes over twitching ears and she adjusts her direction to track it, pausing now and again to triangulate as well as she is able.
(james)
"She is a child..... of course she would have that."were it a different situation, he'd be amused by that
possibly intrigued
by his thirst for knowledge
but then there's the issue of that unicorn
just..... frolicking in the darknessgreat, who invited the Coggie with the Shrooms and didn't tell him?
and since Decker was the one holding the box with the Shrooms, why are they in his trip?he just shakes his head
dreads rustling over shoulders
following the sound of paws in the darkness(ST)
Five minutes after they have started moving the forest begins to thin and there surroundings are bathed in an eerie purple twilight. Small creatues scarper around the woods and everywhere they look seems the same. The same trees, the same stumps, the same small furry creatures, the same colors, smells and sounds. The music has been replaced by the singing of songbirds, some familiar and some alien and again in the distance the unicorn fleets off again from a poised position, as if it had been waiting for them.(rune)
Fuck. Well, that was a lovely thought. As the forest thins and the light grows, the mottled world slow to stride apace with her packmate, changing direction to follow the fleeing unicorn now that the music has disappeared.(decker)
As the sense of sight is returned to them, they can see one another again. The Fenrir moves cautiously, not terribly accustommed to this form himself...ironic, then, that he's the most 'wolfish' of the pack, here.Grey beneath the strange purple wash, the beast lifts his head and scents after the unicorn. Music has faded: even his sharp ears, swiveling, cannot hear it anymore.
Silence slows to allow Rune to pass him, and then picks up the pace again to lope easily at her heels.
(ST)
To their right, over the top of every other sound, is the sound of small chiming bells. To theyir left, even louder being yelled by two similar voices is the following verse:Just then flew down a monstrous crow,
as black as an a tar-barrel:
Which frightened both the heroes so,
They quite forgot their qaurrel.(james)
just call him runs-with-wolves
what a sight it must be
the iron gray fenrir
the mottled walker
the homid gnawer jogging to keep up with their lope
trench flapping with each stridecourse, doubtfully that would seem strange, here....
a brow lifting at the verse
he distinctly does not remember a Looking Glass
he think a snide remark about the Walrus and the Carpenter
but with his luck they'd be waiting for tea
and he just wants to get home
so still, he only follows(ST)
Sebastian slowly comes into view, walking in a placid easy kind of way that was again at odds with the way he had spoken earlier when encompassed in darkness and was trading threats/cautions with Decker.(Rune)
Left. Right. Rune's lope slows, and she stops briefly to cant her head in the direction of the verse, apprehended dimly through the beast mind. Words or bells or the beast ahead waiting for them: she chooses the beast ahead of them and resumes her pace, but not before pausing to offer her packmates a choice. Forward?That's the choice, the question, simply phrased, that falls through their minds on eagle's wings.
(decker)
Up, utters Silence into their minds. With that, his body rearranges (if Sebastian didn't know what they were by now, he never will...). In his near-human form, the Fenrir digs claws into the bark and starts going up.And up.
And up.
And up.
And up.
And up and up.And.....up a little more.
Finally, when he's well out of sight, the voice filters back into their minds. Ain't like any tree I've seen before. Just...straight. Don't taper off none at all. Can't see no top. Comin' back down.
A few moments later, the Fenrir drops down five, six away from where he'd gone up. He stays in his near-homid shape, six inches taller, a good deal broader. Guess we go forward.
(ST)
As they walk forward about a half a minute after starting their trek forward, Rune thunks into something hard even though the forest appears to be continuing forward and the unicorn running into the distance, she appears to be able to feel a concrete and brick wall in front of her with no apparent gaps in it.From the left they can now hear the trickling of water into a large pool of the substance. To the right they can still hear the chiming of a thousand little bells.
(rune)
Ouch.Rune thunks headfirst into the wall (good thing she wasn't going very fast) and then backpedals a step or two to scratch at the damn thing. There's a low whine - unintended, merely a byproduct of her form - as she communicates an image of it to her packmates through the totem phone. She brushes her flank against it, and trots off in one direction, then then another, but the wall remains, apparently, solid.
The mottle wolf turns around lifts her muzzle, chuffing in annoyance.
Water? Bells?
The answer comes to her almost as soon as she asks the question, and the wolf changes direction to follow the the sound of water flowing into a large pool.
(james)
he's just.... silent
falling to a crouch beside the lupus walker
ragged sleeve brushing against her shoulder
watching the progress up
and out of sight
and back down againthe apology is never vocalized
perhaps only shown in the set of his shoulders
the gears simply churning in his mind to figure this riddle outblinking at the sudden wall
The hell?
he can't feel a top
and Rune's pacing shows it goes solid for awhile
dark eyes look back to see if Bastion is still nearby
but he turns to follow without comment(ST)
Bastian has his hand deep in the pocket of his longcoat, his hair almost dry which is amazing considering that it was soaked through when Decker wrenched open the tin not that long ago, it seems. Or was it?He just follows, occasionally stopping to look at a particular flower or fern and whistling a few bars from the X-Files theme. Yes. He had a television.
(decker)
The Fenrir is a few steps back when his packmates run into the wall. He shoots Bastian a dark glance, and then one (bushy, in this form) eyebrow hooks up. "Any ideas?" - elongated teeth, shifted vocal cords make it almost a growl, sussurant.(ST)
He pauses mid-bar in a whistle, crouched down to cup a single flower in one milky hand. He merely glances at Decker, shrugging a shoulder."Left or right, it appears, since we can't go straight ahead."
(Decker)
Decker smacks his hand against the invisible wall. It's a strange sight, the flesh of his palm flattening against what was not there. "I meant 'bout this."(ST)
"If we can't go through it and we can't go over it, I suggest we go around it."Well, that was logical. Three Ahrouns stuck in Candyland, this was bound to get even more amusing. Pity they didn't have someone good at this sort of thing with them.
(decker)
Decker's temper rips in two. His hand closes into a fist and smashes against unyielding brick and concrete. Snarling, " 'Bout what the fuck this is."(ST)
"It is obviously a wall of some description."Again, a purely correct and logical answer. If you can't go through something it is a wall or barrier.
(decker)
That's it. If there was any way to leave Bastian behind in the Twilight Zone, Decker was taking it. His packmates were heading for the running water. There's a tense moment: the vampire eerie calm; the werewolf coiled on the razor's edge of violence.Then Decker turns away and prowls after his packmates.
(ST)
As they walk towards the sound of the trickling water the forest grows thicker again in patches and then it surrounds them completely. Should they try to turn around to walk back out of the dense forestry, there appears to be no end or opening, even from the direction from which they came. As the proceed onwards, since they can't seem to do much else, the trees begin to get furrier to the point that it feels like they are brushing up against animal pelts. After awhile they come across a door with no handles.(rune)
The lupus Glass Walker's hackles rise as they continue through the forest, as the forest grows more dense, as it changes. When they come to the door with no handles, she scrambles to turn around in the thick growth and... nothing. No way out but forward.Stay back.
They might as well only risk one of them. The door has no handles, and - after a moment's puzzling over the hinges (in or out? out or in?) - there is the scrabbling sound of sharp claws on wood - below, and around the edges of the strange door as Rune pries it open.
(ST)
As the door pries open Rune tumbles forward onto a deep blue lush carpet. When they deign to look around they are in a child's room, the toys are slightly larger than expected as is the bed. In one corner of the room there is the sound of someone pouring water into a bowl that is already filled with liquid. It appears to be of Victorian motif.[pause]
Posted by james at November 24, 2002 12:00 AM
CommentsPost a comment