World of Darkness World of Darkness: Attrition - Meeting the Guys [Mature]

[z-August Turner]

...or how to show a werewolf a good time.

August paused, thinking. While some would claim that her efforts in that area were wasted, she knew better. She wasn't dumb, just average. But right now, she admitted that she was in over her head. Should she call him and ask him?

They'd talked a bit on the phone, mostly just to say hi and keep in touch while her work hit a busy cycle. Some background filming for the show had taken more time than she liked, and they hadn't had much time for another outing. But, maybe that meant she should combine work and pleasure.

Her mind made up, she called the number she'd been given the other night. Patiently, she waited through the rings, wondering if she'd catch him, or if he'd be off doing some esoteric werewolf thing. To her pleasure, he picked up and she smiled as she heard his deep, "Hello."

"Hey, you," she greeted, hearing the slight husky drop in her voice as she spoke to him. "Got any plans for tonight, or can I borrow you for a party of sorts?"

[Owns-The-Night]

"A party?" Dec's voice was equal amounts of surprise, curiousity, pleasure at hearing her voice, and the die-hard wariness that characterised the Wild thing: the wolf padding back and forth at the threshold of human life. "Nah, I got no plans. What kind of party did ya have in mind, and should I be worried?"

He was smiling as he spoke, plopping down onto his bean-couch and tucking an arm behind his head. His morning routine was over, and the burly uratha was just about to settle down, eat and grab some sleep in anticipation of a night's patrolling.

But a night's partying would be better.

[z-August Turner]

"Nothing big," August admitted, "which is why I said, 'of sorts'." She drew a deep breath and said, "Whenever we wrap an episode, we take a look at it - Cal's a little picky. Well, we've made it into a party where we go over to Cal's and watch it together, and we bring people along, like whoever Cal is dating usually comes, and Marty's wife will show up. They can give us a layman's perspective, and sometimes they make recommendations that we take. Like Marty's wife recommended we change the opening music, and that's been really good."

She paused and gave him a beat to process. "But there's food and afterwards we talk and listen to music or watch something else - it's just a time to unwind, connect and improve what we've done. Plus, you can meet the guys I work with. What do you think? Sound like something you'd want to do?"

[Owns-The-Night]

"Sounds pretty chilled. Sure." Dec responded after a short pause to think it over, his voice warm and deep. "Just give me a time and a place."

He jotted down the details of Cal's home and the time to arrive, then put the phone down after an affirmation that he'd be there, clothes and all. Glancing at the clock, he rose from the couch and went to get a light lunch. After eating, he'd nap for a few hours before training till six, then shower and head over to the pre-screening party.

As he settled down to sleep, he wondered when and if he'd introduce August to the people he 'worked with'. Sooner or later, probably. His pack would need to know her, and she them. But that could wait for a little while.

[z-August Turner]

Cal's house was almost exactly what August wanted someday. The metal and glass building overlooked the ocean; standing on the deck, one could hear the ocean singing round the clock. It was a massive ediface from the eighties, but Cal loved the sparse look of the building. August would have liked less shiny surfaces personally, maybe something in a warm, light maple, but what she loved the most about it was that it wasn't haunted. That alone made it comfortable, and it was far enough away from anything else that it wasn't going to have neighboring ghosts showing up.

August showed up a little early to the party; she usually came over with Wally to make sure that things were ready. Cal was a great producer/director/whatever, but he could be a bit lax on things like having enough food or getting everything set up on time. Sure enough, he was still making the dip, and she, Wally and Wally's girlfriend, Linda, exchanged amused glances as they grabbed knives and started to prepare veggies. August eyed the dishes around the kitchen and said, "Hey, Cal? Are you not having any meat tonight?"

"Val's a vegetarian," Cal said without looking up from his dip processing.

"That a problem?" Wally asked, then added with a grin, "If you need a slab of meat that badly, you might need to think about getting laid."

"Haha, and who is Val?" August tried to change the subject from her sex life.

"My girlfriend," Cal said, licking dip off his fingers and nodding.

"Of the week," Linda added, the lights reflecting off her glasses as she snuck a sly glance at Cal. She was tiny, only five foot, which made her proportional to her short boyfriend. Her excuse was that she was part-Asian, while Wally was just a short white dude.

"Funny," Cal said, then looked at August. "You wanting meat tonight?"

"Actually, my friend who's coming is not big into veggies," August said, bracing herself for the teasing.

Cal's white teeth flashed against his tanned skin as he said, "Oh, so we're meeting the friend who keeps you checking your phone for missed calls?"

"Which one?" Wally asked, chuckling.

"Which one? And here I thought August was the good girl," Cal laughed, his blue eyes twinkling. He washed his hands and went to his fridge, pulling out some ostrich and elk. Cal could be a little pretentious about his food; he went for ostrich over chicken, and buffalo or elk over beef. "If your friend doesn't waiting just a moment longer than everyone else, I can have some fajitas ready for him."

"The one I'm probably going to keep seeing, romantically," August admitted to Wally, blushing. She turned to Cal. "I'm sure anything would be fine, so long as it was once living. Is this going to be an issue for Val?"

Cal shrugged, already slicing the meat. "If she can't be flexible and accepting, she won't last long in California, much less as my girl." He smirked at the other three. "We'll consider this a test run of her willingness to be open to other's mindsets."

"So spill," Linda said into the pause that followed that statement. "I'm a sister, so share."

"You'll meet him soon," August promised with a goofy smile. She tried to make it less goofy, and mostly failed.

"At least tell me if he's cute," Linda pleaded. "Am I going to need napkins for Wally's chin?" She was very accepting of Wally's bisexuality, which was why she was still with him.

August thought of his silver eyes, his incredible body and rugged features. "Linda, you're going to need a bucket."

[Owns-The-Night]

The subject of discussion pulled into the drive about five minutes early and stood the bike on it's kickstand, the noise of the engine dying away to be replaced with the sound of the ocean close by and distant traffic on the freeway. Dec grunted a little to himself, running fingers through his wind-tousled hair to straighten it a little as he regarded Cal's place.

Hey, not bad. Prefer a cosy warm type o' place myself, but this is pretty grand. The uratha took off his jacket as he walked up to what he hoped was the front door. He wasn't nervous, which surprised him in an abstract way. The old pre-Change Declan would have needed three stiff drinks just to relax enough to come to a gathering like this, if he came at all. 'Course, a lot's changed since then...

Grinning at that thought, Dec reached out and pushed the bell.

[z-August Turner]

After a couple of moments, Declan saw a blond man approaching through the glass door. It seemed a little odd to have a house be so open, and spoke to an odd mentality where someone could live in a place with little privacy.

The man was athletic and had the Hollywood look; good hair, good teeth, a casual way of moving that looked like it came from a movie. Cal felt fake, but there was nothing fake about the way he shook Dec's hand. "You must be August's friend. Good to meet you. I'm Cal Rhodes. Come on in."

He stepped back and waved Declan in; the Rahu caught a tingle of nervousness from the man. It was the first sense he had gotten that Cal paid attention to the world around him, something that not all Hollywood types managed. Most were self-absorbed to the point of blindness, but Cal did work on a show about the paranormal; maybe he was a bit sensitive the tingle of the supernatural.

[Owns-The-Night]

He gave the man a reassuring smile, careful not to show too many teeth. "Name's Declan, but seein' as yer a friend of August's too you can call me Dec." He returned the firm handshake with a nod and followed Cal through towards the kitchen, from the smell of it. "Nice place you got here." Okay, so it was a stock line, but it was also true, here.

"It keeps the cold out." Cal said with a small chuckle as the two men entered the kitchen where the others still stood around, chatting and getting food ready. "Here's the mystery man!" he announced, and several pairs of eyes swivelled to take in the newcomer.

"Call me Dec." the uratha said, raising one hand in greeting as he stepped to August's side, putting an arm around her waist and giving her a warm smile along with the hug. "Hey, you."

[z-August Turner]

"Hi," she said, gazing up at him, enjoying the shiver his touch brought. Sadly, that meant she missed the looks he got from other people. Marty and his wife, Jody, stared at Declan, their expressions wavering between Jody's appreciative stare and Marty's nervous frown. Wally stared, jaw dropping a touch; Linda reached over and closed it, staring herself. Cal remained by the door, looking unnerved. August wasn't aware that most of the men in the room were staring at her date with the primal anticipation of him turning on them.

The sound of the front door opening and closing broke the tableau, and a tall, pretty Latina woman sauntered in. "Hey," Cal said, going to her and getting a kiss. "Everyone, this is Val. Val, this is Dec and August, Marty and Jody, and Wally and Linda."

"I see everyone is matched up," Val chuckled, waving with fingers tipped by three inch long nails.

"We are," Cal grinned, then said, "Alright, food's buffet style in the dining room, everyone help yourself and then go on into the media room, and we'll start the show."

[Owns-The-Night]

"Sounds good to me." Dec tried to ignore the male fear-stink in the air. It wasn't really that strong, just... irritating. Part and parcel of who I am, I guess he thought, mentally shrugging and loading his plate with the fajitas. The stares (and scents) that the women (and Wally, he realised) were giving him were as distracting as the fear from most of the males, but the Rahu had long since grown used to his effect on females and contented himself with smiling back pleasantly.

The cluster of people moved through to the media room, where a large screen was set up along with a few couches and easy chairs for people to flop onto. August sat down and tugged Dec down beside her as everyone else got found their seats. It was cosy on the couch, and Dec relaxed further, determined to enjoy himself despite the fact he might be making some of the humans edgy and the rest edgy-horny. He took a bite of one of his fajitas, white teeth flashing, and threw August a wink, settling in for the screening.

[z-August Turner]

After everyone had settled, Cal went to the computer to the side. It was hooked to the projector. There was a flicker of light, then credits began to roll.

[OOC: The following clip is from the actual TV show that inspired this idea. This will give you a good idea of what August and co do.]

The next forty minutes were spent watching the three people in the room run around in dark places poking things that shouldn't be bothered, or talking about it. The first ten minutes were spent in establishing shot, talking about the history of the haunted school house they were investigating. They spent another twenty running around on night vision cameras, jumping at strange noises and focusing on strange, shadowy forms in the night. The last ten were doing break down; taking some film to a digital artist to verify that they hadn't been altered, and speaking to another paranormal expert about what they had seen. It was clear that Cal, who did the intros and must of the talking during the break-down, was the star of the show. But August got her fair share of time on-camera too, wearing sturdy, if tight, jeans.

[Owns-The-Night]

Dec watched with some interest, the history and tale about the haunted school grabbing his interest. He reflected wryly that a couple years ago he'd have scoffed at the idea of ghosts... and werewolves, vampires, or mages. Distantly he wondered how many 'ghost' encounters would be real dead folks and how many were spirits from the Hisil, or other weird shit. All in all, it was decent. Plus it had August looking both cute and brave (and in tight jeans), which the werewolf was savvy enough to realise was calculated to draw in the male watchers. Dec was no expert on T.V productions, of course, but he knew what he liked.

About halfway through the tape Dec stiffened slightly, though only August could tell from the tensing of his arm across her shoulders. His silver eyes were fixed to the screen during one of the shadowy 'encounters', narrowed intently. He gave no other signal that anything was amiss, but it was enough to make August wonder.

When the end came and the lights came up, he leaned over to August and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Pretty cool." he commented to all those involved. "I like the historical angle, how you guys make a scientific-style investigation op out of it. Gives the show a good atmosphere. You all don't come across as some jokers out to make a sensation, and treat the subject seriously. That's good." He smiled and saluted Cal with his drink. "Nice work."

[z-August Turner]

When Dec stiffened, August reached up to her shoulder and took his hand in hers. She glanced at his face and saw the additional intensity, but wasn't sure what it was for. She remained silent, knowing that if she needed to know about it, Dec would tell her.

After, when Dec had given his opinion, Cal nodded. "Thanks, I try to keep it real with a scientific perspective. Part of what I want to do is convince the world that the paranormal exists. So many people have had some kind of encounter with the supernatural, but they won't talk about it to anyone but people that they know have experienced the same. This phenomena can't be measured by equipment that we have, so we can't prove it to the satisfaction of the scientific community. But hopefully, we can continue the public interest and the accumulation of anecdotal evidence for the time when science can measure a ghost accurately."

"And now that you're done with the soap box..." Marty said, breaking into laughter. It seemed like a familiar joke to most of those here.

"Alright, I'm done," Cal said, chuckling and sitting back. "Anyone have anything else to add?"

Other chimed in, taking about the more technical aspects, such as music choices, editing or timing. People got up and got food as they wanted; Cal put on some background music, and in time, the talk drifted to other things. It was rather technical and oriented to the 'biz'. "You can go, if you want," August whispered to him at one point when Marty and Wally were arguing about a creative choice.

[Owns-The-Night]

"That school." Dec's voice was low as he asked with deliberate casualness, looking around to make sure no-one was too close. "Where is it?"

August gave him a curious look, quickly schooled to appear as though nothing was amiss, and simply raised an eyebrow in unspoken demand: a gesture that was as ancient as it was undeniably female. Dec almost grinned to see it, though his silver gaze was serious.

"I think there's some work for me there." He leaned closer, kissing her cheek before murmuring. "That funny-looking shadow you guys tried to get a better look at about halfway through the tape, but it disappeared when the lights were shining? It rang a bell. There's spirit activity of the not-dead kind there."

[z-August Turner]

"Hey, lovebirds," Wally called from the huddle where people were talking, and August blushed, even if it wasn't the rush of early-relationship hormones that kept them whipsering. "Are we boring you?"

August smiled. "Not so much boring as we were thinking of better things. Mind if we take off a bit early?" She had both her hands wrapped around one of Dec's, and she gave him a little squeeze.

"No, go ahead," Cal said, offering them a knowing smile. "Now you have her home by curfew, Dec, you hear me?"

As the others laughed, August shook her head, a rueful smile on her face. "He'll be a gentleman, Cal, he always is."

"I am more worried about him than you," Marty laughed.

"Yeah, Ms. Which One," Wally added with a laugh, though it slipped when he saw the slight grimace on her face. He covered with a quick, "Have a good night! Nice to meet you, Dec."

"Do you want to drive your bike somewhere and have me pick you up?" August asked as they walked down the steps toward the vehicles. "Or just follow me there?"

[Owns-The-Night]

Ms Which One? Dec frowned a little at that, but recovered enough to smile and gave a raised hand in farewell as the two of them left Cal's house.

"I'll park up somewhere then you can take me." he decided. August nodded and the two of them headed back into town far enough to find a multi-level parking garage. Dec left his bike locked and chained, then hopped into August's passenger seat. The whole process had taken maybe half an hour.

"So..." Dec ventured after a few minutes of silent driving. "I'm thinkin' that what we're lookin' at is a rat-spirit. You know how Cal swore he saw something that looked like 'Big fuckin rodent'? Well, we call 'em Beshilu." The word was spoken with a strong growling component. "They like to gnaw on the Barrier and bring it down so more of them can come through. They're little fuckers if too many of them come through, but I don't think that's the case, or you guys might not have made it outta that school, stayin' the night there. They're cowards unless they have big numbers on their side. So I'd say gettin' up there and doin' some vermin control would be best."

[z-August Turner]

August was a little thrown by the topic; she'd been expecting something else when he'd started with that slow drawling word. "Ok," she said, trying to get her mind around the word that he'd said. It had sounded like 'Bessy lou' but she was pretty sure that fearsome rat-spirit-thing wasn't going to be named after a milk cow. It had been something like a name, anyway - if a dog had been trying to say the cow's name.

"So the plan is for you to go in, tear up the rat-thing, and then get out of there, right?" August asked, making a turn. "Because I'm going to stay in the car." She glanced at him, the streetlight playing over her features before dropping her into darkness again. "You kinda figured that, right? If I'm going to make a nice meat puppet for this thing, I'd rather not go anywhere near him."

She shifted her hands on the wheel, and Declan could see the tension in her movements. On his word alone, she was getting far closer to a dangerous spirit than she was comfortable with. She glanced at him and saw him looking; August gave him a smile despite her nervousness.

[Owns-The-Night]

He smiled back and put a warm hand on August's shoulder. "Actually, I kinda figured on you doin' just what you said. Hang back in the car: there should only be a few of them. If I come tearin' out of there like my ass in on fire, though, start the damn engine and get her in gear, cause that'll mean a full nest, and that means I'll be bringin' the pack to play." He didn't seem at all nervous at the prospect of facing the things, just a little tense: the tension of anticipation and excitement held in check, August realised. Dec leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"If you think for any reason somethin's gone wrong, or if you see anythin' that's not wolf-ish, you get the hell outta there, okay? Don't worry about me: this is what I do."

[z-August Turner]

August smiled, relief easing over her features. "Alright," she said, glancing at him quickly. "I'll be the getaway driver," she agreed, then added, "I've had a bit of stunt driving training. For a film, I had to brake and slide sideways into the shot. The director wanted my face visible the whole time, so I had to do it. It was kinda fun, actually. I hope I won't have to do anything like that this time, though."

She was talking to try to comfort herself, and with effort, she shut up. They fell silent. Dec was thinking ahead to the coming battle, preparing his mind for war. August was also thinking to the fight, but she was torn between worry for Declan and relief that she wouldn't be going inside.

When they reached the school, August pulled around the side, where they wouldn't be seen from the road. The building was abandoned, left behind when the newer, more spacious facilities had been constructed. The school felt like a scorned woman, divorced for a young secretary or gym trainer.

August shut off the lights and turned to Declan. He was reaching for the door, but she stopped him with a hand on his face. When he turned to her, she kissed him. This wasn't the sweet, warm kisses they'd exchanged before; it was a going-to-war kiss, a silent plea to come back whole and healthy. But when she pulled back, all she said was, "Good luck. Or should I say good hunting?"

[Owns-The-Night]

He returned the kiss, his own passion fierce and unyielding as he kissed her, not as a man does, but as a wild creature might, without restraint or hesitation. Then the kiss was done and her fingers trailed from his cheek.

"Good huntin' is right." The werewolf smiled at her, a feral light gleaming in his silver eyes from the after-shock of the kiss. He licked his lips and grinned, then opened the door, shucking his jacket and leaving it on the seat. His shirt and shoes followed, and with a final smile for August he turned and trotted over to the building clad only in his jeans. He reached the large double doors and waited there for a moment, scenting the air before trying the chain that held the doors shut. The padlock was secure.

Not for long...

Taking a deep breath, he Changed, shoulders swelling as the seams of his jeans split under the pressure of an extra 100lbs of muscle mass. Tufts of fur sprouted across his shoulders and upper arms as he took the Dalu. His fingers lengthened, gaining an extra joint and becoming tipped with razor-sharp talons suitable for cutting and tearing. His hands closed around the chain and twisted hard, cutting and pulling at the links. With a faint metallic groan and snap they came apart.

Owns-The-Night paused in the doorway and sniffed, his enhanced senses once more probing the night air for the scent of his enemies. Rat-stink was everywhere, and he let out a soft growl as he prowled into the dark entranceway of the abandoned school.

[z-August Turner]

August wasn't sure what scared her more about her otherworldly suitor; the knowledge of what he was or the way he could make her feel what he was without showing what he was. Add that into her own general insecurities about trusting men, and she was sometimes left asking herself what she was doing. But when her heart pounded in her chest, and her lips tingled from what he had just done.

She watched him disappear around the building; then she was alone. With a sigh, she rolled down her windows and shut off her car. The sounds of the night filled her vehicle, and August got comfortable for the wait. "How many rat-spirits can a werewolf kill if a werewolf can kill rat-spirits?" she muttered to herself as she shifted herself on the seat and wished she'd brought a book.

[Owns-The-Night]

The large humanoid shape prowled along the corridor, rusty abandoned banks of lockers either side of him. Assorted detritus littered the corridor: dry leaves, the occasional scattering of rodent droppings, beer cans. The building gave every appearance of being vacant: forgotten by the outside world, and echoing with the distant memories of bells ringing and doors slamming, the chatter of children and... Oh yeah, this wasn't quiet a Locus, but the spiritual age of the place was strong enough for the Rats to start gnawing here, so as to...

There! It was a scuffle, barely audible even to his enhanced hearing. He felt his blood rise and his heart quicken, but warrior discipline kept the Rahu focused on the stalk as he paused at the foot of a flight of stairs, listening hard. From ten yards behind him a large shadow detached itself from the wall and glided towards the uratha's back, red eyes gleaming in a mixture of fear and hate.

With a roar the werewolf charged, powerful legs pistoning as he leapt up to the first-flight landing of the staircase. Claws flashed and a creature gave a high-pitched screech, frantically kicking and rolling away from those horrible talons. It was a humanoid rat, roughly 5 feet in length, with a whiplike, hideously pink tail and yellowed foreteeth. Hands that were partly paws flailed at the air as the thing caught it's balance and rolled to its feet, hissing in outraged fear, red eyes narrowed in it's grey-furred face. Owns-The-Night took a step towards it...

And whirled as the one behind him leapt in a flash of greasy, dirty white fur, stepping to one side to partially avoid the lashing tail which caught him across the shoulder. The Rahu lunged, sinking talons into the second Beshilu's stomach and ripping upwards, eliciting another screech. He snarled in satisfaction, but the first enemy was still in the fight and lunged towards the werewolf's thigh, teeth sinking in deep with a sibilant snarl of it's own. Owns-The-Night roared in fury and grabbed the filthy thing around the neck, tearing it free of his flesh.

The other Rat-spirit charged, made desperate by both pain and hatred of it's ancestral foe. Still holding the first one around the neck, Owns-The-Night swung it bodily into the second, swatting that one aside. The crack of a tail heralded a blow to the side of his head and he reeled momentarily under the impact, growling, before sinking his claws deep into the Beshilu's foul-smelling, fur-matted chest. Bone cracked and ichor spurted around his fingers, and his snarl had a triumphant note as the creature in his grasp gave out a screeching wail, still struggling to be free.

The second Beshilu dove for him, sinking it's teeth into his arm and worrying at the muscle there. A thunderous howl of anger rewarded the creature's efforts, and the Full Moon spun, still holding onto the grey-furred rat-spirit as he tried to shake off the white-furred one. They fell and rolled together down the stairs, a tangle of talons and teeth, red eye and gold-tinged silver locking and glaring at one another in the frenzied melee, in which no quarter was asked... or given.

[z-August Turner]

August was sure she'd get bored, but in a short amount of time she heard a roar. Jerking upright, she paused with her hand on the door latch. Her first thought had been to run - ridiculous in a car - and her second was to run in to make sure Dec was ok. "Stop that," she muttered to herself. "You'll just get in the way." She took her hand off the door, onto the ignition, listening to the crashes, snarls, growls, squeals and roars that reached her ears. It sounded like Cujo and Ben were going at it in there, which wasn't far from the truth.

Swallowing, she tried not to imagine what those things were doing to Dec - and also what he was doing to them, but that was less scary. There was a pause, and in the moment, August heard something new. Something outside. Something near her car.

She turned on the car then the lights, blinking as the night was sundered by light. She didn't see anything, but she felt better. She could have been hearing things that weren't there, and she wasn't hearing anything over the car and the fight. But despite the lack of evidence, her monkey brain was chittering at her, demanding that she protect herself. The rest of her body was agreeing with it; the hair on her arm was standing straight up. She felt like the helpless victim in a horror movie - which she was. The guy she was dating was in an abandoned building fighting dangerous rat-spirits, and she was alone in a parked car.

Roll up your windows. The voice in her head was urgent and August compiled, her fingers lifting the latches for the back windows. With a soft whirr, they closed; as she scanned the blackness, her fingers inched forward and found the latches for the front windows.

There was no warning for the attack; the thing came through the passenger window. Its claws scratched the faux-leather interior as it surged at her, as big as a German Shepard and with teeth like chisels. August screamed as those teeth snapped the air between them. It scrabbled against the window, trying to get itself into the car; she spun, brought her foot up and kicked it in the face. The beast bit at her boots; she kept her toes only because they were the hiking boots she wore to work. Still screaming, she kicked again, connecting high on its shoulders and knocking it backwards. It flopped down out of sight.

August dropped her kicking leg, frozen with indecision. Would it come back at her through the window? Should she run for Declan or hide here? Her brain was full of adrenaline, and the simple thought to finish rolling up the windows didn't pierce the veil of chemicals. Trembling, she leaned over, peering out the passenger window, hoping to see it unconscious on the ground.

It attacked through the driver-side window next, and August threw herself across the seat, screaming again. Her flailing hands curled around something that had weight and heft, and she grabbed it, swinging her $500 Gucci purse at the monster. The cutting teeth closed around it, and August gasped as some of her purse detritus spilled over her legs. It snarled and snapped at her, and she jammed the bag in its face, forcing its head up.

Window the window close the window! August shoved its head up and leaned under it, not feeling the claws that raised welts on her arm. She flipped the latch for the window up, which obediently rose - a few inches. With a thunk the window stopped, and the Beshilu felt it constrict its chest. With a shrill cry, it began to panic, thrashing and trying to get out of the grip the car had on it.

August scooted across the car and pressed herself to the door, only to realize that wasn't safe either. She rolled up that window, then lowered the passenger seat so she could scramble into the back seat. She felt safer once she had the seat back up and the door locked.

The rat-thing's cries became a piercing scream of pain and fear, and August huddled in the back seat. Pressing her hands to her ears to try to shut out the noise, she began to shiver, overwhelmed with fear.

Then she saw, standing on the hood of the car, the girl in the snow-covered clothing. She couldn't see her sister's face, but August knew Tyla was staring at her with empty, dead eyes. Weeping, August pulled her knees up to her chest and closed her eyes, trying not to hear the trapped rodent or see her dead twin.

[Owns-The-Night]

He rolled to his feet, the mangled corpse of the grey-furred Beshilu at his feet steaming slightly as it dissolved into the ether, torn asunder. The other was still very much alive and biting, it's teeth sinking into his shoulder as the foul thing clung to his back. Owns-The-Night paused for a second as he reached back to sink his claws into it's misshapen skull and cocked his head. He'd heard something. A woman's scream. August!

He fought down his Rage, sublimating it with warrior cunning. To retrace his steps out of the school with a rat-thing gnawing on his back would take too long. To stop and deal with the rat-thing would take too long. But the stairwell he was at the foot of had a window.

A window overlooking the parking lot.

He ran up the stairs, grabbing the Beshilu and tearing it free of his shoulder. He roared his defiance of the pain, feeling the hot blood run down his chest and back, his supernatural vitality already working to knit the damage done as he brought the squirming, squealing thing up in front of him and leapt...

The rat-spirit was the first thing to hit the reinforced window, it's bones splintering under the impact even as the glass shattered outwards. Owns-The-Night, still roaring, followed the glass and framework down to the courtyard, the fifteen foot drop easily absorbed by his steel-sprung muscles and the weakly kicking Beshilu, which gave up it's fight for life with this latest injury.

The Uratha barely paid the dissolving thing any mind, his gold-tinted eyes fixed on the thrashing, panicking Rat that, sensing his approach, was tearing it's own body to get free of August's car. With a snarl that presaged doom, Dec charged, talons flexing. The Beshilu squealed and struggled, endeavouring to pull loose, and it's mindless perseverance paid off. It dropped free of the window.

Only to be slammed up against the car again, face to face with an enraged child of Fenris-Ur. Declan roared into the thing's face and thrust both clawed hands into it's chest, sharpened claws shredding the rat-spirit's corporeal existence in a welter of ichor as the werewolf tore it apart.

For a moment silence reigned, to be broken as a deep-toned voice rose in a ferocious, exultant howl that made hair stand on end and blood sing. Tattered and wounded though he was Owns-The-Night celebrated his kill, his bare, dripping claws raised to the moonlit sky in a gesture that was primordial triumph incarnate.

[z-August Turner]

She became aware of the change in battle when the car rocked from side to side. Wide eyed, she looked up to see the rat-thing pressed against the outside of the car. There was something beyond it, something larger and hairy. August's first honest thought was that she'd been rescued by Bigfoot.

Then the rat-thing had been ripped apart, spraying ichor across the interior and exterior of the car. August felt another piece of her sanity rip away as her pretty silver Lexus ES was defiled by spirit-innards.

The final thing was the howl - the terrible primal howl broke her fugue. August fumbled open the door, prepared to run. The only thing that stopped her was her quick, terrified glance at the howling monster. It was familiar, just familiar enough to stop her mad dash.

She stared, frozen half in and half out of the car, struggling to not see her friend in the primal, animalistic form just on the other side of her car. His howl faded, but the night wasn't brave enough to continue again. In that trembling silence, August asked, "Declan?" She realized that she was afraid. Was he in there? Could he hear her? Had she just served herself up for dinner by calling attention to herself?

[Owns-The-Night]

The great shaggy head tilted to one side as those lambent silver eyes looked towards August, faint golden glimmers dancing in their depths. The hulking humanoid form started to walk around the car towards her, short dark brown fur covering it's torso, sprouting from the seams of the stretched-to-tearing jeans it wore, and growing in tufts on the backs of it's arms and across shoulders broad enough for two linebackers. There was a faint organic shifting noise, and August saw the form change in a matter of seconds. The fur receded to normal male human standards. The shaggy mane drew back from the shoulders and upper back, the shoulders and body shrank as the monster seemed to shed muscle mass and size. Finally, the elongated talons shrank as the werewolf came closer, the fingers once more becoming recognisably human on fine, strong well-shaped hands.

It was Declan looking at her now. Declan, with bursted jeans threatening to fall off him. Declan, with his hands and forearms covered in rapidly evaporating dark ichor as the spirit-stuff returned to the ether. Declan, with his own blood covering his torso and arms from evil-looking bites, the worst of which was on his right shoulder and looked as though a frenzied animal had shredded the meat there. He rolled his shoulders and focused inwardly on the damage, and the wounds began to heal, rapidly creeping closed as muscle and skin regrew.

"August? It's me." his voice was low, a hint of the growl still in there, but the tone was warm, concerned, and a little uncertain as Dec looked at her, hands half-lifted to hold her but hesitating as he stood a few feet away, unsure of the reception. He sniffed, then frowned as he caught sight of the scratches on her arm. He stepped forward, concern outweighing his worry about her reaction. "You're hurt."

[z-August Turner]

August was tensed, ready to bolt. When the possibly-Declan thing came around the car, she realized that she'd backed herself into a corner. She could duck through the car, but she'd never be able to scramble fast enough to get through it and back out the other side. Not before he could get around the car and catch her.

Then like magic, his bestial features melted away, becoming the handsome, solid features of her date. She almost went to him for some much needed reassurance, but the growl in his voice - and not a sexy growl - stopped her. But when he pointed out her wounds, August felt that it was him again.

"I'm-? Ow," she said, looking down at her arm and realizing that she'd been scratched all up and down her right arm. "I was trying to keep it from biting me," she said softly. "It attacked me in the car, Dec," she added unnecessarily. She was starting to shake, her body reacting to all the adrenaline in her system. Her eyes were wide and her breathing rapid as she said, "It attacked me in my car." Her tone indicated that she thought this was very unfair.

[Owns-The-Night]

*"The fuckin' bullet went right past my head, Sarge. Right past my head. Sounded like someone snappin' a fuckin' pool cue. SNAP, then there was a fuckin' hole in the side of the hummer."*

It seemed so long since he'd suffered what she was going through now. He was nineteen, a just-minted Ranger, the first time he'd come under enemy fire and he remembered the shakes that had afflicted him afterwards. He stepped up to August as he realised she wasn't going to run and folded his arms around her. His own heart was still pounding as he forced himself to take slow, deep breaths, the flame of his battle-lust receding.

"It's okay." his voice was normal now, no hint of growl in it. "It's okay, August. You did good. You did the right things. And you're alive." He felt her heart hammering away in her chest, her body jerking slightly with the quick, panicky intakes of breath, and he started to stroke her hair gently. "Feel that? That's you bein' alive right now. The bad guys are gone, and you're still here." He kept his voice a low, reassuring murmur as he repeated "You're still here."

[z-August Turner]

Her shaking arms wound around his waist and held tight; she pressed her face against his bare chest, clinging to the solidity he offered. His voice was a soothing mantra, and she felt her shivering begin to slow. It took a long moment for her to realize that the chest she hugged was tacky with something; when she lifted her head, she saw the dark stain of Dec's blood.

"Oh... oh, Dec, you're hurt," she said, her voice still shaky. She looked up at him, concern in her eyes. "How bad? Do you need a doctor?" A fuzzy memory of a mangled shoulder floated into her mind and she took another look, relieved to see that it wasn't as bad as she remembered.

August turned her green-blue eyes back to him. "Dec... are they gone? What now?" She hugged him a little tighter, wanting to leave, the sooner the better. Hopefully, that would be his answer, rather than telling her he needed to go back in and look for more of those... things.

[Owns-The-Night]

"They're all gone, I reckon." he said soberly, casting a look at the school. "If there'd been more of the fuckers they'd have all attacked us. I'll come back and check it out to be sure." His silver gaze returned to her and he smiled lopsidedly. "Don't worry about me. They chewed me up pretty good, but I don't need a doc. I'll be fine in an hour, maybe less." Indeed, August saw the shoulder knitting together impossibly fast, muscle and new healthy skin regrowing over what had been a savage wound.

Dec, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to his injuries as he gently took her scratched arm and examined it. "Lets get you patched up. No tellin' what's in those cuts. Some iodine oughta sort that out." He regarded August with his head tilted to one side. "You okay to drive, August? I've got a medical kit at my place."

[z-August Turner]

August breathed a soft exhale of relief as she nodded. She kept her uninjured arm around him as she said, "Alright, let's go," she said. "I have some napkins in the glove box - we can keep us from bleeding all over the place."

She had to crawl back into the car to unlock the doors, and attempts to roll up the driver's side window - or put it further down - were useless. Amazingly, there was no hair or blood on the interior or exterior, but there was a slight dent in her door from where Declan had punched the Beshilu into the side. August stifled the tears over the damage; Declan was okay, and she would be okay, and that was more important than the difficult-to-explain damage to her leased car.

After mopping Dec off with the napkins and a bottle of water, August pressed the remainder to her scratches. They didn't appear to be bleeding, but she didn't want to take the chance that they'd seep either. She'd stopped shaking by the time she put the car in gear, distracted from the horror of the moment by the effort of caring for her car, Dec and herself. After she'd pulled back out onto the road, she looked to her date and asked, "So, is that how wins normally go for the good guys?" She added a little smile with it, showing that she was mostly jesting.

[Owns-The-Night]

"Pretty much." Dec smiled back. ""Any fight you walk out of..." and all that jazz." He was in a good mood, she noted immediately, humming a little snatch of a tune as he glanced out of the window. "Turn left here and make for the San Diego freeway. Take the exit for UCLA." He looked over at her with a slight smile. "That's where I live. It's also where I work, and forms the heart of my territory." That last word was said with some gravitas.

They drove in silence for a short while, then Dec half-turned in the passenger seat, eyeing August soberly. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. "I'm sorry for puttin' you through that. I didn't think the rats would bother with you. I fucked up there. You did good, though."

[z-August Turner]

It was easy to be brave when she was far away from the moment of fear. She smiled and said, "It wasn't much. I was fine, really. Well, until the rat-thing. You had no reason to assume it would come after me." She turned her head to the side, pressing her cheek to his hand. "It's all good."

"So... what do you do at the University? I never really thought about you having a job; I just kinda thought being a werewolf was your job." She had mental images of a member of the athletic staff, maybe a physical education teacher or something. Or a wildlife specialist; she could see him doing that, easily.

[Owns-The-Night]

"Bein' a werewolf, combatin' the forces of darkness and all that good stuff, that's what I am. But to pay the bills I'm a groundskeeper." He glanced at her and smiled. "The V.A. hospital found me the job as part of my rehab. That was just after my First Change: it's amazin' how the realisation I was really a movie monster helped me deal with the PTSD. So they set me up in a decent house just next to the campus and I went about earnin' a livin'." He relaxed, keeping the wad of napkins over his shoulder-wound.

"I was still undergoin' psych review, so didn't have my full honorable discharge yet. Guess they wanted to make sure I didn't climb the nearest belltower with a rifle. Now, though? I've got my pension, along with the groundskeeper package, which ain't bad in total. Got my G.I. Bill too, so I'm tossin' around ideas for what to do with that." He gazed out of the window reflectively.

[z-August Turner]

"Cool," August said, thinking about her own lack of degree. She didn't care about that; she could get training for what she wanted to do outside of formal school. Most colleges either taught stuff she'd already picked up on the job, or they taught you to be a classical theatre artist. August didn't care about that; she wanted to act not go to school.

She reached out and picked up his hand, enjoying the warmth and masculine sensation as he curled his fingers around hers. "Thoughts on what you want to do with the G.I. Bill?" she asked, glancing quickly at him before returning her attention to the road.

He was a groundskeeper, not what she had ever thought she'd date. Of course, werewolf hadn't been on that list, either. Still, she'd take him; it was hard to find a quality man in LA.

[Owns-The-Night]

"Was thinkin' of studyin' something that'll help me in my real job." Dec said with a smile, enjoying the feel of August's hand in his. "Military history's kind of a hobby-readin' thing of mine at the moment. Maybe I'll take that more seriously. Thing is, I can't think of much else that would be of practical use. Hell, I might even study somethin' that's nothing to do with what I am and what I do. Try to broaden my horizons some." He glanced out of the window. "It's just up here on the left."

August pulled the Lexus into the driveway of the small two-storey house across the street from the UCLA campus. Pulling on his shirt, Dec climbed out of the car with his shoes in one hand and the other keeping his busted jeans up. "The lifestyle's hard on the wardrobe." he grinned across the roof of the car at her. "Well, this is it. Casa del Fuzzball. He nodded at the house. "Come on in."

He opened the front door and switched on the solitary golden light that hung from the high ceiling of the main lounge area. It was almost grotesquely ordinary in here: oversized beanbags strewn around on the floor in addition to a large couch that dominated the center of the room in front of a TV / stereo system setup. A low coffee table was mostly bare save for a phone and some remote controls. A large blank area furthest from the door had a kickbag as a centerpiece, with something that looked like a blunt wooden spear leaning against the wall nearby. The place seemed clean, with a polished wooden floor and very little clutter.

"Medic kit's in the kitchen." Dec closed the door behind August and brushed past her with a smile. "I keep one fully-stocked here, just in case of shit happenin'. Grab a seat, I'll be right back." He stopped at the doorway to the kitchen. "Uh, you want a drink? Got beer, smoothies, or milk."

[z-August Turner]

"Maybe later," August said with a smile, "but thanks for the offer." He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving her alone to explore.

August looked around the sparse room, thinking how heavily it screamed his mentality and personality. He had a nice place, close to campus and bigger than hers, just from looking at the living room and kitchen.

Curious, she walked over to the wooden staff and touched it, surprised by how smooth it was. She trailed a finger over it, then gave the bag a little push. The weight was unexpected, and she leaned into it to get it swinging a little. Normally, she might have played around with it a little - she didn't get the chance to hit a bag - but her arm ached enough that she just let it go.

She went to the couch and sat down, crossing her legs and resting her arm across them. Pinching her lips together, she gently peeled back a napkin to peer at the vicious lines down her arm. For the first time, she considered what getting scratched by a giant spirit-rat could mean for her long-term. She was glad that Declan had insisted on the iodine.

[Owns-The-Night]

Dec grabbed the large backpack that was propped against the wall next to the back door and padded back through to the lounge. "Here we are." He plonked it down and sat beside August, looking at the scratches on her arm closely and giving a grunt that contained a hint of growl. "Fuckin' things. Don't worry: it doesn't smell too bad. Some iodine will sort it out."

He dug some cotton swabbing out of the pack, cursing softly under his breath as he went back in for the iodine. "Damn stuff is in here somewhere... We don't get infections and shit, so it ain't at the top... ahh, gotcha." He straightened up and smiled, holding up the plastic bottle, then looked at her, holding out his free hand. "Let's see it."

Taking up the cotton swabs, he began to wash the thin cuts with iodine. He was as gentle as possible, but thorough, and the stinging didn't last too long. A pad smeared with antiseptic and some bandages later, and August's arm was neatly wrapped up.

"Y'know, this is in danger of bein' a habit." Dec grinned at her as he finished tying off the bandage.

[z-August Turner]

"Yeah, I think I need to stop this," she said with a little laugh. It was a 'laugh or cry' sound, but she managed to smile as she said, "I already have your name and number, I can stop requiring you to rescue me, I suspect. Otherwise, I may actually get hurt next time. We're going to have to work out another way for you to entice me."

Speaking of enticing - August noticed he hadn't changed his pants yet. The nature of her smile shifted a little as she slipped her fingers into the rents on his pants, just enough to be noticeable. "And if you keep messing up your wardrobe like this, I'm going to have to start getting clothes for you." He would look so good in Dolce & Gabbana, and if August didn't think he'd rip that up too - it seemed to be a job requirement - she'd already be considering one for him.

Instead, she pushed those thoughts away and leaned into him, putting her good arm around him. "Thank you, Declan," she murmured, grateful for what he had done for her.

[Owns-The-Night]

He leaned in too, nuzzling at her cheek for a moment before resting his head against hers, one arm circling her waist. "Yer welcome." he murmured in return, breathing in her scent, his breath warm on her neck. The chuckle was audible in his voice as he continued. "I'll get to readin' up on other ways to entice you. Who'd have thought throatin' monsters would get so old, so fast. I warned ya that I was kinda old-fashioned." he teased.

He turned his head to nuzzle at her again, his five o'clock shadow a little prickly as he kissed her cheek before pulling back a little ways, looking into her eyes from a few inches away. "I'd better clean up and put some more clothes on. That is, clothes that ain't ripped to hell." he said with a wry smile, not moving.