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About Karen Gaunt

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  1. *The Cemetery* "Darn it. Freaking Vampires. Okay. So much for plan A. We *really* need to go now," Karen grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose as pictures snarling monsters smashing through city blocks like something from an action movie dance through her head. She looked up and met Jack's gaze one last time before turning and running for the gate and the car. She heard the fall of Dan's feet behind her in a similar rush, hoping they didn't run into any cops on their way out. This was sooo bad. She didn't know what kind of mojo was in these things and how quickly their witches could apply it, but... Karen had nearly gotten her tail burned a few times in her early days in the Game by overstaying her welcome. Not fun. She didn't look forward to having to dodge literal bloodthirsty rage monsters. No one jumped them by the point they got back to the truck, and her phone was out so fast Karen didn't remember dialing the bar's number before it started ringing. "Hello, this is..," came a voice she didn't recognize from the other end. Great. "I know. This is Karen. I need to talk to Darrik or Dominque," she cut the voice off preemptively, moving to get in the truck soon as Dan unlocked it. "I'm sorry, but we don't pass numbers here, I can take a message for you though." Fighting the urge to growl and roll her eyes, Karen thought quickly, "Tell them we have it, but we've got twins. This is my number..."
  2. The Cemetery Karen suspected there would be a price Jack was going to pay for helping them, but choose not to pry, to respect that dignity. She maintained that human contact as Dan rummaged through the tombs deeper in the cemetery, gaze not breaking from her Great-Grandfather's. "Thank you," she offered with the ghost of a laugh, "When this is over, I'll go home and tell Cora all about the man who made the impossible kings and queens of NO scuttle under the rocks and run away even after they killed him. We don't need kings and queens in this country." She smiled rogueishly, rebel's mischief in her eyes, not wanting to end this moment on a low note, even as she was waiting and ready for Dan's signal to go.
  3. It took Karen a moment, okay, a few moments to get over the fact she was hugging a dead man. Her mouth opened and closed a few times. Judging by the intensity of his reaction, she could all too easily picture the kind of hell being stuck between worlds could be, what he might have endured. However this all worked. No clue there, really. And that ignorance was irking her. She was going to have a very, very long very, very polite conversation with Mrs. Emily when this was over, so that she'd stop getting blind-sided by all this. She gently pushed away from Jack, enough so that she could look up into his face. "Great Grandfather," she softly began, taking in his scent, a hauntingly half-remembered odor she associated with her father, "The bones? Have you seen them? There are two originals and a psychotic, 500 year old werewolf vampire hybrid apparently poised to burn this city to the ground over them if we don't do something about it." The dark-eyed brunette paused, wondering when her life had turned into a rejected Underworld script before steeling herself again, resting one hand on Jack's shoulder, "I don't know how much time we have before more of them come to hurt you again."
  4. IN THE CEMETARY "It is, Dan. They were hurting him with their... whatever this was," Karen answered flatly with a lingering echo of calming anger, splattered with blood. Hopefully Dan had a towel or three in his truck. Didn't exactly want to be pulled over like this. "No. We're fine, Officer. None of this is our blood," started the hypothetical conversation in the Californian were's head, rapidly going even further south before she killed the train of thought. But Dan was right. They were on a time table. She sucked in a breath and rose to her feet, nodding at her alpha. She moved through the open gate, relieved beyond belief to not half to play translator between her dead kin and Dan. This would have looked even more insane than it already was if she was talking to thin air the whole time. "Gram... Great Grandfather," she stumbled over the words a little before getting her conversational footing under her, "This is Dan, my Alpha. Dan, this is my Great Grandfather, the infamous Jack Guant. I don't know what you've been able to find, Great Grandfather, but we have three super vampires about to turn the city into a steaming sinkhole in an effort to kill one another using a set of very magical bones belonging to a dead witch. Have you seen something like that? I don't know how long it is before one side or the other send more people like the ones we just fought." She had a strong suspicion Jack knew, was using the bones in fact, but she wanted to hear it from his lips or not.
  5. Karen didn't smile. She bared her teeth. "Wrong," she intoned, a quote from an old show that fit her mood perfectly coming to mind through the fury, "That's my bread and butter you're messing with." She closed the distance between her and the cowering witch in a snarling leap claws first, images of Jack's spirit writhing in agony, of Dan being flung into the crypt with lethal force, driving her resolve to put this monster in human skin down. Couldn't trust her; didn't need her. Had their own witch, anyway.
  6. DAN AND KAREN "Nice to meet you. Die, please," Karen growled as she pushed up into a lunging swipe of her clawed hand at the witch's gut. The wolf roared in the back of her head, hungry for blood, meeting her humiliated frustration coming the other way. The resulting hate burned in her golden eyes with the promise of death faster than most humans could see and react before that promise was delivered.
  7. "Sorry, but that's one of my dead people they're hurting right now," Karen growled softly, tapping her eye with one taloned finger in brusque explanation. She moved, polevaulting over their cover, feeling the fire of protective anger burning in her gut. She was fast, strong, tough. Easy enough to close the distance and disembowel one of these guys, possibly wing another. She'd cut loose on a few trees before, and it had looked like a whole sounder of hogs had gone nuts on it. Until her foot got caught mid jump. Her trajectory went from horizontal to downward, and Karen wound up faceplanting on the earth. She'd broken her nose before, and it felt pretty much like this, drawing a hiss of pain. She started to push her way back to her foot, growling with golden eyes full of hate, "Don't know what you're doing, but stop now or there won't be enough of you four left to bury in one coffin."
  8. "Less time than you think, Dan. It didn't smell like this when I was here before," Karen stated bluntly, wrenching the gate open with one hand even as she metaphorically reached for the anger that had let her sprout her deadly pedicure before. She didn't like coincidences, and stereotypical as it sounded, maybe super evil bones and witches in New Orleans combined to create zombies. Because of course they would. Why the fat flipping not?! It burned through her, the frustration, the fear, the fact this could drag a genuine big damn hero down with her. Well, fuck that. Whoever was going around screwing with fresh corpses was going to see why that wasn't a good idea. Some stuff even Karen would not stand by for. "Let's go get 'em," she growled from the back of her throat, new claws dripping fresh blood and eyes unconsciously shifted a feral gold, the bark of a monster surging down her spine as she retread the ground towards her Great Grandfather's grave.
  9. Karen breathed out, letting the metaphysical stink of vampire wash out of her nostrils. The alcohol wasn't helping her self-control, much as she'd been blessed with a strong liver even before her first change. It took her a few moments to process Dan's news before turning to face him. A wry smile dancing on her lips, tinged with amused bitterness. "That's good. One less problem is better than one more problem. Hopefully two less with Meave going to check on Melody in my car," she allowed with a chuckle, running a hand through her hair, "Where do I start? Okay. So I'm *not* getting a place in the city, too many damn witches and vampires for me to sleep with anything less than a shotgun under my pillow. Need be, I'll start paying rent if you need me to." Karen was avoiding the topic and she knew it, sighing and looking away, "Turns out you got him. Jack Guant, I mean. Back in the 20s. My dead dad? The one I've been seeing the last few days? He's my dead great grandad. Hooked up with a Crescent before dying and she started a chain of little Gaunts down the years all the way to me. Oh, and the bones we're after in the cemetary? 90% sure they're responsible for the fact Great Grandpa Jack is more lively than most dead people without fangs in your city... Turn left here." The impromptu direction gave her a chance to settle, her hands to stop waving in agitation, "And don't start getting weird about the Crescent thing, Dan, so help me. People pass down sickle cell and left handedness and blue eyes perfectly fine without it turning them into Miss Magical Princess of Destiny all the time. We all have dead people. I'm not a good person, wouldn't have eaten three or four people if I was, but I own my choices, the good and the bad, and I'm the one who kept playing the Game even when I drew a joker mid-deal." She didn't know why she was saying this, why she needed one person to be cool with this, and that made her more grumpy, looking away.
  10. THE SIMON MAGUS BURLESQUE AND ABSINTHE BAR Karen had to fight the urge to roll her eyes and crack a joke about going to toss some tea in a harbor to remind herself which country she was living in. It was a near thing though, and her lips quirked dangerously at Darrik's comment. She kicked the back the latest drink, letting it burn down her throat. Dear Lord. Was San Francisco, LA, or Chicago hiding a community of supernaturals so... so... Words failed and she counted her blessings that she was raised anywhere but here. Nothing for it now though. "Sure. Why not? Okay. Two more questions though," she asked with a grin just on the wrong side of unsettling, "One, where is this free set of bones? Two, any chance you can rig up a warning system in case Erica's witches jump us enroute? Otherwise, if no one objects, let's roll. Daylight's burning, and we have problems to solve, violently or otherwise."
  11. "*One* of these bones killed one of your super vampires. And Erica wants a whole set. That's not for monster hunting, she's going to nuke the whole tri state area once she has these 'Twins' in the fucking blast radius. Ridiculous. Someone get me another shot," Karen groaned, pulling out her phone and bringing up her moon tracker app, "Right. That's... four and a half hours till moonrise. If you haven't found these missing sets of bones already, I know a guy. Maybe he can help. And I... see things sometimes when I touch them, ever since I've changed. If half the things you say about these bones are a quarter true, maybe..?" The Californian Were really didn't want to touch them, but if it meant getting out of here alive without letting the city burn in her tail lights... She frowned, weighing a sudden urge to call her daughter versus the morbidity of it.
  12. It was all Karen could do to keep from rolling her eyes at the fact this whole mess was because one vampire wanted to use two other vampires as bait to lure in a pair of really old vampires and kill them using a set of really old bones as a power up. Charming. She did kick back a second drink now, feeling bile at the back of her throat at the whole situation, "Now? I'm betting the witches use the bones to come up with some mojo to blow up Erica while the rest of us buy them time to do so. Question being, can they do it by tonight should our not-so-little hybrid get bored with Marko, I think, and come looking for the packs while we're... effectively out of the picture. Also, are your four friends on your side or Erica's side, Mr. Walker? Just how many people, for want of a better word, are we talking about going against?"
  13. THE SIMON MAGUS BURLESQUE AND ABSINTHE BAR "Funny. You don't seem the type to bend the knee to anyone short of god himself. Or herself in this case, apparently." She kept her tone dry, severe, "Anyway. Enlighten me. Just who the hell *is* your boss? Because the way my day is going you could say anything from the tooth fairy to bigfoot and it could still, possibly, make sense. And we're burning daylight." Karen was done with this shit.
  14. THE SIMON MAGUS BURLESQUE AND ABSINTHE BAR "Right. And this has exactly what to do with the giant not-a-werewolf who almost wiped out the Bayou Pack last night, not to mention any number of people last night?" Karen interjected bluntly, "I'm told you're the expert on that little problem, Mr. Walker. And that is slightly more urgent in my eyes." She didn't trust Colby. She didn't believe his sob story or the bullshit mysteries he was invoking for a heartbeat. And speaking of hearts, if he would stay still, she'd happily carve out his with a spoon. The brunette declined to drink again, sitting as close to Dan and far away from the twin hazards of Cara and Colby as possible. "Oh. That was my bad news, Dan, much as I'm tempted to think Darrik held out a few significant details," she wrapped up darkly, very much unhappy at being three steps behind when Colby swept in to hold court over the bar.
  15. THE SIMON MAGUS BURLESQUE AND ABSINTHE BAR "Do you have a point that can be discussed in mixed company, Mr. Walker? Or are you just talking to hear yourself talk while showing off your collection of UFC rejects? Some of us have places to be tonight." The Californian didn't sound impressed, tone droll. She didn't look impressed, arms crossed, one eyebrow quirked upward, repositioned by Dan's side. If not for the air of concerned interest her alpha was giving off, her field of fucks regarding Colby's little display of sophistry would be truly and completely barren, and she'd have been out the door. Someone else's problem and all that. Especially tonight.
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