World of Darkness World of Darkness: Attrition - At the Corner of Waring and Terror [Complete]

[William Rose]

Wednesday, August 13th

Antoine rolled down Waring Ave towards La Cienega Blvd. in his beaten and battered Oldsmobile. It wasn't stylish and it certain was not sexy, but it did run and it did manage to fit his enormous frame somewhat comfortably. Well, it HAD been running. With a cough, a sputter, and little more the engine just stopped. NO! Aww damn, not here ... at least let me roll down to a main street! Stupid hunk of junk... Antoine bitched internally and swore aloud as the car began to loose speed. He threw the blinker on and coasted across the lanes to the curb finally coming to a stop near an alley between buildings.

For a few minutes he simply sat there, his hazard lights blinking rhythmically as he willed himself to not simply explode. “Goddamn beater pee-oh-es!” Antoine disembarked from the wagon and slammed the door. The springs and shocks sighed with near contentedness as his bulk was relived from their burden. Moving around to the front of the car he popped the hood and was assaulted by smoke and steam and the smells of things that shouldn’t be burning doing just that. “Fffuu … AH!” Antoine danced back as the sudden inrush of extra oxygen allowed the smoldering bits to flare into actual flames. “Shit! Shit, shitty, shitshit…” he mumbled a stream of curses as he rushed to the rear and grabbed the fire extinguisher that he kept in the car just for this reason; this wasn’t the first car of Antoine’s to retire itself from service by seemingly spontaneous combustion.

The familiar “pssshhht” sound of the fire extinguisher accompanied blasts of white powdery monoammonium phosphate. The fire was quickly snuffed out as the chemical prevented further oxygen absorption. Antoine stared at the hulk and let out an exasperated groan. He kicked the car a few times trying in vain to vent his frustration but finally relented. He tossed the empty extinguisher into the back again and called for a tow.

“An HOUR!?! Ok, ok , fine whatever just call me back if its going to be longer than that.” Antoine stabbed the cell phone off and shoved it back into his pocket. He was leaning against the car watching traffic pass and wondering just what his chances of getting mugged, jumped, or otherwise molested by the unsavory characters in this neighborhood was. He looked down at his watch, 10:37 pm, and wished he’d not stayed so late at his mother’s. On the other hand I can’t feed myself half as well as she does. Antoine smiled and started rummaging inside the car for some of the leftovers. If they aren’t going to get into a fridge I might as well have a snack while I wait.

[z-Amber Wren]

Amber woke up sick. Part of it was her fucked-up sleep schedule; thanks to last night’s capers, she had completely thrown off her body’s rhythms. It wasn't a bug or a virus attacking her, though; it was her own body. And she wasn't necessarily ill, but she was in turns tired and agitated. She knew what it was. According to her NA sponsor, she was in for at least another seven months of hard-core cravings. If she resisted that long, she had a solid chance of staying clean.

Well, she'd done it once before, so the second time should be a breeze, right? But the first time, she'd been carrying Melody and she'd had something concrete to remind her why it was worth every ache and pain.

Slowly, Amber stood up and crossed the room of the studio apartment, kicking aside clothing and piled up crap. Her aim was a picture frame, lying face-down on her book shelf. It was easier that way, to not have to see the picture all the time, but tonight, Amber needed that. She lifted the frame and turned it so that she was cradling it in her arms. Melody's dark face looked back at her, smiling widely for the camera. Her daughter's absence always hurt, but as Amber looked at her picture, the pain sharpened to an acute ache.

Amber quickly replaced the picture, but it was too late; the tears were already welling. Angry, she rubbed at her eyes, trying to will herself to stop crying, but it wasn’t working. At least no one was here to see her pain, and after a long moment, Amber gave herself into the tears. It was the first time she’d done so since her change, and the built-up emotion poured out of her like a cup. She’d learned a long time ago to repress her pain and only express it in private; her entire family was practically required to live by the Storm Lord ban, Let none see nor tend to your weakness. The first thing a member of the Wren clan learned was never to let anyone else see you cry, or be weak. Of course, there were always exceptions to those rules and all the kids had known which adults to go to for sympathy instead of a swift kick and being told to shape up.

When the last of the tears faded, Amber found herself sprawled on her bed, her nose completely stopped up and her eyes red-rimmed and sore. But she felt better too, as if some internal pressure had let up. Which was probably the case, in all honesty. She smiled a little as she got ready for the evening.

Tonight she had the night off of work, so she ran a long patrol of her territory. She was pleased to see that the Ant-spirit was still doing his job; she was glad for the extra help. She knew she needed to get more help, or else she was going to be fighting an uphill battle. She thought about Declan, and wished he were closer.

Usually, patrolling left her content and focused, but tonight, that ache in her gut wouldn’t leave her alone. She dressed in t-shirt, sweats and sneakers and went out for a run. After just a couple of blocks, she realized that she didn’t want to run on two legs. She found a little cul-de-sac where she could strip in privacy. It only took a few seconds to do so and hide her clothes, and then she quickly changed.

Shaking herself once the transformation was complete, Amber let her tongue loll out of her mouth in a relaxed, happy pant. It was muggy in Los Angeles tonight, and added fur didn’t help her stay cool. Grinning happily, tail high, Amber dashed into the darkness, exalting in her freedom. The urban jungle flowed past her, and the ache was lost in the thrill of running the streets at night.

But she was still a predator, and her gait slowed when she saw the flashing hazard lights. Her human half saw the lights as someone in trouble, while to the wolf-that-she-was, it was a sign of weakness, of prey made weak. But even her wolf-half recognized that humans weren’t truly prey. She snuck closer, intending on seeing how close she could get before he saw her. Then she smelled the distinct smell of hot engine. But more interesting was the food. Her belly growled a little and she crept a little closer.

It was only when the wind blew the human’s scent to her did she look at the man himself, and received another surprise. It was big, black and bashful, that Antoine guy. That gave Amber pause, but she mentally shrugged and stepped out of the shadows, ambling casually toward him. He certainly wouldn’t recognize her now. Knowing that he was likely to be unnerved by her appearance, she started to wag her tail and laid her ears flat against her head. With her panting tongue and little doggie smile, that should keep him from freaking out too much. And maybe she’d get some dinner out of this encounter.

[William Rose]

The back door was swung wide open and Antoine lounged in the back his legs dangling out over the bumper. He had fished a plastic spork out of the glove box and was chowing down on some shrimp étouffeé. The plastic containers with gumbo and jambalaya sat nearby their lids also partly open. As he sat and ate Antoine marveled at how much better his mother’s cooking was compared to his own. He’d received plenty of praise for his food but his mom’s was so far beyond his that he wondered what she was holding back from him. Probably a giant can marked love that she sprinkles into everything! He laughed around a mouthful of food and completely missed the large dog trotting up to the back of the car until it swatted his leg with a paw.

Antoine sat up so fast that he forgot the limited ceiling in the car and slammed his head into the roof with a loud “thunk”. “Aaahhh damn that hurts …” He gave the dog a glare, “What do you want?” The dog, no more like a wolf, sat down an barked. “You smell this don’t you? You want my leftovers?” Another bark of apparent approval, “Smart dog, knows good food when he smells it.” Antoine put the plastic container down and worked his way out of the car, still holding his other hand to his wounded head. “You made me whack my head, not sure why I should feed you … but it’ll go bad and I can’t eat it all anyways. Here ..” He set the remains of the étouffeé down on the sidewalk for the mutt.

He sat down on the bumper and watched the canine eat while he pressed the gumbo container to his battered skull, it kinda felt cool and that was enough. “You like that don’t you? You shaggy mutt. Better watch out when the heat kicks in, you’ll be dragging your ass through the grass for a week.” Antoine chuckled to himself as he checked the time. Hey look five minutes since the last time you checked, at this rate an hour will seem like three. Stupid car… “You gonna stick around while I wait for the slacker ass tow truck doggie? Or you gonna just eat my food and then maybe drop a steamer before wandering off?” Antoine sighed, Either way it’s going to be long night.

[z-Amber Wren]

You’re a charmer, ain’t ya? Amber thought idly as she finished the food. A steamer? Seriously? She’d have paid for eating it later, were she only a dog, but Amber would be fine. Still, he didn’t know that she’d be fine, so why was he feeding her this junk? Well, not junk – it really was good, and when she was done, Amber sat on her haunches, put her paw on his foot and gave him the intense ‘dog-hungry-now’ stare that only large canines could manage.

“I gave you food,” Antoine said. “I gave you good food. I don’t really have any more. No. More.” Amber’s eyes flicked to the container he held in his hand, then back to his face, keeping her gaze intense and her paw on his foot. “No.”

Whuffing in irritation, Amber turned and leapt into the back of his car. She heard him shout, but she ignored him long enough to nose around in an open bag and grab one of the tupperwares in her mouth. Her sensitive mouth – biting things lightly was just one way that canines explored their world – put enough pressure on the plastic container to grab it but not enough to score it. When Antoine said, “Come on, get out!” she turned around and hopped right back out, setting the Tupperware at his feet. That intense gaze returned to his face, and she put one paw meaningfully on the dish. After all, those were a little hard to open without thumbs or without ruining it for future use.

Patiently, she waited for him to open the container for her.

[William Rose]

Antoine stammered and protested but the dog just got its mouth around a container and then jumped out of the car and waited. Antoine looked down at it and it looked back, just waiting for him to open up the next course of the meal. I know this scene, I’ve seen this movie, next you’re gonna talk backwards at me and teach me jedi powers. Damn dog. “FINE, you want my leftovers fine, whatever, just don’t like maul me or something.” Antoine popped the top off the container, “You want some dirty rice and red beans? Course you do cause it’s tasty and was supposed to be my lunch tomorrow. Whatever, here.” He plopped the container down on the ground and popped open the others, “Here eat it all see if I care, maybe I won’t get mugged with a giant fucking dog chowing down to protect me.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed, lately things hadn’t gone very well for Antoine. It’s like something I did is paying back tenfold … but I don’t know what I did! “You know what doggie? Sometimes you just can’t win. I can’t score a decent non slutty non crazy girl for even a single evening. My damn car breaks down. And of course then there’s my new buddy the vampire, yeah either I’m losing my mind or everybody else is and I’m the only sane one.” Antoine observed that, shockingly, the dog continued to eat his food and was clearly not going to offer any sage advice in hard to follow broken English. “You don’t care do ya? Just looking for a meal.” Antoine looked at his watch again and groaned, not even five minutes had passed this time.

[z-Amber Wren]

Amber chowed down on dirty rice and red beans, her canine jaw picking at the food as best she could. Eating in wolf form was very different than eating as a human - lips were a wonderful invention, which dogs had less of then primates. Still, she was listening to Antoine, and when he began his lament, she rolled her eyes up to look at him. Those eyes narrowed when he mentioned ‘non-slutty, non-crazy girls’ but she didn’t stop looking at him.

Amber finished off the beans as Antoine said, "You don’t care do ya? Just looking for a meal."

Amber sighed, looking down at the lunch she'd eaten. To her surprise, she felt bad for it. Yeah, Antoine could be a big dumb jock. But he sounded really down, and she was incredibly upset herself tonight. Without thought, she stepped delicately over the bowls littering the ground and slipped between his legs, nosing his hand onto her head and gazing up at him with pure empathy with her gray eyes. Her tail thumped lightly against his leg as she looked up at him. This was all that she could do; she couldn’t talk to him, and assuming a form that could talk was out of the question. So she simply offered furry comfort.

[William Rose]

Antoine was oblivious to the deeper meaning of the dog's actions instead he simply sighed and shook his head, "No more food, you ate it all." Mom'd kill me if she knew I fed her food to a dog. Lucky for me dogs can't talk I guess. Antoine pushed the dog away and picked up the containers putting them into a plastic bag in the car. The mutt just watched with sad doggy eyes. A noise from the alley brought the dog to it's feet, it's ears perked up and forward. Antoine, too, heard the noise and stood up tall and peered into the dark alley. "What they hell do you suppose that was?"

[z-Amber Wren]

Amber didn't like the scents coming from the darkness. It was something wrong, something that didn't belong here. Her hackles started to rise, swelling the wolf's appearant size as she snarled.

Most canines would have run at this point. Dogs have as much common sense as most animals, and they wouldn't stick around for this. Amber wasn't sure she wanted to stay here either. But when Antoine walked forward, she had little choice. She really didn't want him to be alone in there. It was less a concern for Antoine and more a feeling that she wouldn't let any defenseless Herd walk in there alone.

They cautiously entered the dark together, the big man and the werewolf in wolf's clothing.

[Dave ST]

Slowly they crept forward. Garbage and graffiti become the only welcome for the two as their eyes peered around attempting to acclimate themselves to the darkness. It seemed to swallow all light, devouring it and keeping away to better conceal whatever horrors may lurk within.

But this wasn't some horror movie. This was the Really Real World, Antoine knew, and all that was down this alley were either rats, a bum, or some punks.

About fifteen feet into the alley a sound was heard again, obscured by the late night fog that seemed to roil in from all sides in dank moisture filled back walkway. It was an easy one to recognize: the hallow sound of something plastic hitting pavement several feet ahead, obscured by the mist.

[William Rose]

Antoine hefted the tire iron he had grabbed before walking into the alley. Never can be too careful these days. Adrian confirmed that vampires exist, god alone knows what else could too. Antoine looked down at the dog and damn near freaked. Fangs beared, fur all puffed up the thing looked downright feral and more like a wolf than ever, even to Antoine's untrained eye. "Poochy, I don't suppose this is just some bum is it?" The sound of a plastic bottle landing in the darkness ahead made Antoine visibly twitch but, to his credit, he didn't just turn tail and flee. "Hey! Anybody in there?!"

[z-Amber Wren]

Antoine didn't know that dogs could roll their eyes. This one did though, leaving off the growling to cast her gaze skyward in an expression of exasperation. Never ask if anybody is there, because someone always is, the werewolf grumbled to herself. Drawing breath, she attempted to say, "You should run now." Unfortunately, what she said would have been understood by any other canine, but was just a series of barks and doggy noises to the human.

That having failed, Amber tried one more thing. Tipping her head back, she let out a howl. This wasn't a dog emulating it's wild cousins, or even the sound of a wolf crying. This was the full-throated call of a werewolf putting the thing in front of it on notice. The howl wasn't in First Tongue, but she wordlessly announced her intentions to stand her ground before the thing waiting in the dark.

[William Rose]

Antoine stared down at the wolf, "Umm ok way to creep me out..." He searched around and picked up a stray geer bottle from the ground. "Lets see if they'll respond to a bottle of my own..." He flipped it end over end in the air and grabbed the neck then tossed it into the darkness listening for it to land.

[Vivi OOC]

The bottle sailed end-over-end through the dank air, vanishing into the murky gloom that clung possessively to the dark alley. The smell of rot and decay was overwhelming, a rank, somehow oily stench permeating the fog so thoroughly it could almost be tasted. Somehow, the roar of the late-night traffic seemed distant, dulled by the mist that swirled and eddied around two large feet and four lupine paws.

No tinkling of shattering glass reached either pair of ears: only a dull thud as Antoine's throw struck something solid, but yielding. Something scraped against the pavement then, disturbing the piles of refuse that lay heaped along the side of the alleyway in the darkness ahead. Paper and something that sounded like thin plastic rasped, crunched under a shifted weight.

The walls of the alley loomed imposingly overhead, pressing inward on the odd pair by the sheer gravity of their massive presence and lending a sense of claustrophobia to the already cramped space. Whatever was in there, it couldn't be big... Right?

Antoine had almost decided to take another step forward, and was just lifting his foot when something shot out of the shadows toward him with an unearthly hiss that tore at the near-silence with bestial fury. Its yellow eyes blazed in fear and hatred as the mangy black shape darted past the quarterback, claws scrabbling furiously at the damp asphalt until only the kink in its tail was visible. That, too, disappeared around the corner, though the rattle of cans and other indefinable waste echoed loudly in the feline's wake.

[William Rose]

"AHHHHHhhh! ... oh." Antoine had damn near jumped out of his skin as the cat rushed at him, and then by him and out of the alley. He sagged and blushed with embarassment, "Damn near soiled myself over a stray cat," he mutter to himself, the wolf, and nobody in particular. "I think I'm glad you can't talk pooch, I don't wanna even know how this would come back to huant me if it got out." Antoine lowered the tire iron and listened again for a moment. Then shrugging he turned back toward the car.

[z-Amber Wren]

Amber wasn't nearly as calm. When the cat had burst out of the alley, she'd reacted instinctively, her body already starting to swell and change even as she leapt for the form. The cat made it past because Amber had expected it to attack her, not run flat out and because she was shifting. Quickly, she used the spirit essence infused in her body to instantly return to her wolf form.

Panting from the heat and excitement, she turned her newly shaped head toward the dark alley. The smell of wrongness was still there, and the young werewolf planted herself between that inky blackness and the retreating human. At least if he left, she could fight better. And he'd be safer back in the light than trying to fight with her here.

[William Rose]

Antoine noticed, or rather didn't notice, the dog by his side. Turning he looked back down the alley at the wolf and blinked. Did that dog just ... ripple? Nah man, you're just skeeved out. Relax the damn tow truck should be here ... mother of ... Antoine sighed as his watch confirmed that it hadn't even been half an hour since he called for the tow. His shoulders slumped in defeat and he wondered if he had anything to read in the car. "Hey pooch! You coming? Or would you rather bark at a dark stinky alley?"

OOC: Perception 6 dice - 2 sux

[z-Amber Wren]

Amber was easing forward. She was still bristled, her fur standing on end. Her low, ominous growl was going non-stop as she cautiously advanced on stiff legs, ready to jump or dodge or run or whatever else she needed them to do. The nearly-full moon hung thick in the sky over them, and it's weight was a steady pressure. It was almost her time, her phase of the moon and her face of the Mother.

"C'mon," she growled in the simple language of wolves. Her warrior's blood sang in her veins like a primitive siren sound, calling her, cajoling her. She was tired of dancing at shadows; she could smell that something was there! "Come and fight!"

[Dave ST]

Something scraped across the cold wet pavement of the ally's floor. followed by the low moan of someone in pain. Again is scrapped, calloused flesh painfully slithered rippling the stagnant puddles that lingered about.

Amber's hackles stood on end as something came into view parting the mist with it's grotesque appearance.

It was obviously female from the long dark hair that remained only in clumps on it's head. Her flesh has bloated and turned gray with pocket and rolls of flesh swelling up trapping what clothing she was once wearing tightly within the recesses of her folds. Only one half of her body looked swelled and deformed, as if the festering corruption that ravaged this woman's body hadn't made it that far yet.

Her putrid arm writhed lazily at her side, the bones dissolving into a cartilage like substance some time ago. It pulsed as it moved sinuously the thin hair on the woman's arms rose out like quills.

Violently the neck and face quivered like creepy camera trick playing off the shadows and mist of the dark corridor. The mouth and lower jaw expanded splitting down the middle granting this creature a three way jaw that looked as if it could easily swallow a human head whole.

The foul tongue slithered in the center, the tip fraying outward reminiscent of a lamprey.

Quote:

Post a reaction, but do not make any hostile actions until initiative is is determined. Surprise is not a factor here.

[William Rose]

The wolf's reply was only a growl and then Antoine heard it, the sound of flesh being dragged on the asphalt of the alley floor. What the hell ... oh good god! Antoine's stomach heaved and twisted and without a moment’s more notice Antoine violently heaved up the contents of his stomach. Étoufeé, gumbo, dirty rice and more exploded out of his mouth as he doubled over his stomach clenching tighter and tighter like a washcloth being wrung out. Everything ejected from his mouth and onto the payment sounding like so much runny porridge being poured into a bucket. Antoine’s throat, sinuses, nose and mouth burned as acid and bile and partially digested food was forced out of his body.

The sound of the thing’s jaw bifurcating and its wet eel like tongue lolling out was disturbingly similar to Antoine’s own suffering but he was unable to pay heed to it being caught in the throws of painful spasms. His eyes watered in part as a simple biological reaction to his own vomiting and in part from the noxious fumes emanating from the half bloated walking corpse that was slowly shuffling down the alley toward him.

Oh fuck oh shit, I’m gonna fucking die … Though paralyzed by simply involuntary physical reaction Antoine’s mind raced. The rational side ran screaming bloody hell as Antoine came to grips with the fact that his life was very likely forfeit. White hot anger pushed back. Mentally he pummeled the useless hysteria aside even as he fell victim to a round of dry heaves that seemed aimed toward actually ejecting his stomach itself from his body. Take control! Shut it down, take control. Run like the damned devil is on your tail… NO! Fight, take that damned tire iron and bash that thing's skull in, stomp it's putrid flesh into slime and BURN it! Antoine’s wrath, his anger, and even his fear combined into a white hot flame, an incandescent furnace that burned away the useless terror in his mind. I … WILL NOT … DIE … WITHOUT A FIGHT!

[z-Amber Wren]

The Uratha dealt in spirits. Granted, sometimes, that meant dealing with spirits that had taken up residence in a human. These unfortunate hosts had their bodies twisted by their spiritual invaders, transformed into something hideous and unnatural. Sometimes, that meant dealing with those monstrosities – usually fatally. But Amber had never seen or heard about anything like this, and in lieu of knowledge, instinct took over.

There were three different instincts that Amber experienced in the space of a second. The first, her human part, turned her to run away, and Antoine saw the wolf start to turn. The wolf part wanted run like hell, which worked very well with the human part's desires. She felt her tail curl under her body, cleaving so tightly that someone would have been hard-pressed to find where it began and her belly ended.

But she wasn't wolf and she wasn't human. She was Uratha, and she was Rahu; she was the daughter of Luna's Fist and granddaughter of Thunder-mother, the toughest Storm Lord on the East Coast. She had been born to fight and die under the forgiving eye of the moon. And she was scared half out of her mind.

More precious spirit-stuff was spent as Amber used it to fuel her instinctive and instantaneous change. Had she been thinking, had she not been out of her mind with terror, she would have chosen better. But she was lost to the fear and let it lead her astray.

Adrenaline and rage poured through her body as the wolf doubled and then tripled in size, turning from something the size of a large dog to something the size of a bear. But no bear could match the primal terror that this creature's presence caused; no bear could have so easily and clearly gone bipedal, standing on massive back legs and flexing hands wider than a basketball. Those huge hands were tipped with heavy, brown claws, designed for one purpose: destruction. Long fangs curved menacingly from the oversized jaw; they were so oversized that it would be hard to eat, but they weren’t for eating. Under a thick layer of protective fur, there was a stone-hard body of muscle and bone, not an ounce of fat or extra matter to impede the creature. Luna had given birth to organic killing machines.

Fuck! Amber thought the second that she realized what she had done. But even that bit of rationality was washed away by the sheer enmity this mind held for its enemy - and its enemy was right before it. There was no room for thoughts other than killing, destruction. Roaring a challenge, Amber prepared to attack.

[William Rose]

HOLY … FUCKING … SHIT! Was the exact thought that went through Antoine’s mind as he saw the wolf turn into a giant killing machine; a wolf-man, bipedal ursanoid hominid with teeth and claws and a pissed off attitude. What came out of his mouth was, conveniently, also “HOLYFUCKINGSHIT!”

Antoine’s burning inferno of anger, wrath, fear, and hate flickered and was all but blown out at the sight of the monster in front of him. If a half bloated corpse thing with a split jaw and a tongue that looked like it could chew all by itself was not natural this thing, this creature, this terror from before the dawn of time, was well beyond natural. Supernatural you dolt. Lets just hope it liked Mom’s cooking because otherwise you are so fucked right now. Antoine nodded, he actually physically nodded to himself. Yup, I sure do hope you like Creole, cause I suspect that’s the only way I’m getting out of this alive.

[z-Amber Wren]

The desire to kill and do away with this wrongness mixed with her own fear. Even as she moved, she saw it react, and she knew that she had to be faster. More essence disappeared from her internal store, and in her mind, the light of the Full Moon lit up the alley clearly, giving her mental clarity. Next time, she'd be faster than it, surer and quicker.

Amber lunged forward, moving with an alien grace for something so large and fast. Her outstretched claws raked at the bloated, gray hide of the monster before her. The flesh of the creature gave for a split second, as if a woman pressed her nails into a water balloon. Then the tips of Amber's claws entered the putrid flesh of the slug-woman-thing, ripping cruel slashes in the bloated side of the body. A foul stench poured out of the woman's rents, enraging the half-crazied Uratha further. Anger was rapidly overcoming fear, and she gloried in the frenzy of combat.

[OOC Notes:

Form: Garou, Defense 3 + 1/1 Armor

Essense: 7/10 (2 for quick changes in the scene, 1 for the Gift Clarity (Full Moon 1)

Willpower: 3/3

Actions: Activiating Clarity reflexively (no roll); attacking the monster as actual action (Attack on thing 8d10 -> [8,8,6,10,4,2] and rerolling the ten: Popping the ten 1d10 -> [5] - 3 successes total)]

[Dave ST]

As Luna's Guardian lunged the sinewy and bloated lump of flesh rolled with the impact gurgling and hissing as it's jaw(s) quivered and tongue lashed.

Amber was not about to let it go that easily, although it swayed she quickly feinted, spinning her wrist around and clawing backwards, opening up the creature's breast with four grueling slashes that split open revealing thick layer of fatty tissue and a reeking odor that about made her vomit.

In a baleful moan of agony the creature flailed it's tendril-arm about. It fell hard against the werewolf's body slamming her off balance and displaying for her exactly how powerful it really was. Barbs tore fur and rent flesh leaving vile scrapes that stained the Guardian's coat in blood.

Quote:

Attack (Amber): 6d10 (1,6,6,7,2,4) Miss.

[William Rose]

Antoine saw the great beast rend a series of gooey furrows in the rotting flesh of the … thing. Fuck yeah, I’ll feed every goddamn stray I come across from now on! Without really thinking about it Antoine had already turned to face the combat and as the putrid, bloated bitch slammed the werewolf …Holy fucking shit I’m in a fight along side a werewolf! … slammed the werewolf Antoine’s powerful legs were already propelling him forward his shoulder tucked down for a tackle. The tire iron was gripped in his hand, knuckles turning pale, but otherwise forgotten. With a grunt he drove his bulk into the creature’s less ravaged human-ish side, his shoulder slamming into flash and bone like a pile driver or a battering ram.

… And ricocheted off like a giant eight-ball. The thing’s body mass was massing and Antoine’s glancing blow only served to deflect him away from it as the corpulent bulk reeled from his impact. Well fuck me! Antoine spun on one foot his free hand using the wall to balance his maneuver as he realized that his right held the tire iron still. All star quarter back …. You’re a dumb shit, you shoulda thrown the fucking tire iron… Antoine shook his head as he drew his arm back waiting for a chance to bean the walking corpse in its putrid head.

OCC: Slam 4 dice 3,8,1,6

[z-Amber Wren]

The small man-thing Antoine attacked, bouncing off the enemy. For a second, the feral mind in control considered him as an opponant, but a fleeting memory allowed her to label him as a neutral party, maybe even a temporary ally. That concern addressed, Amber, moving faster than before, brought a massive foot around and viciously kicked at the monster, trying to flip it on to its back. Her claws stabbed into its lower belly, sundering flesh and leaking more of the foul odor into the air. Growling, she stepped straight down out of her kick, slicing through more rotten, gray skin and soft bone.

[OOC Notes:

Form: Garou, Defense 3 + 1/1 Armor, 2 rounds left after this one

Essense: 7/10 (2 for quick changes in the scene, 1 for the Gift Clarity (Full Moon 1)

Willpower: 3/3

Attack (Kick): Kicking the bloated bitch (1d10=9, 1d10=7, 1d10=6, 1d10=10, 1d10=10, 1d10=4, 1d10=6) + rerolling the tens:Poppin' the tens (1d10=9, 1d10=6) = 4 successes!]

[Dave ST]

The Gauru was nothing short efficient inn her mindless rage to slaughter the impurity that know blighted this land, but the creature of the shadows had tricks of it's own to use.

She thrust against it, kicking and clawing the massive bulk of the gurgling thing. Lunging the swollen tentacle-arm around with a battle cry that sounded like a drowned bloody roar. It coiled up the Gauru leg slicing skin and shredding muscle. At the center of the inner thigh the barbs jabbed inward and spiraled upward into her body. Organs and tissue were eviscerated and Amber howled in an agony that was far beyond anything the mortal realm had ever heard.

In a crimson geyser blood sprayed dousing the walls and trash about the alleyway in red when the tentacle thrust its way out from her body shattering her collarbone as it began to loop itself around her neck...

Quote:

Attack (Amber): 11d10 (4,8,5,3,2,2,8,2,3,9,8) (4 Lethal)

Base Pool: 6, +3 Willpower, +2 Vigor. Total 11 dice.

Amber is grappled. (WoD Core p. 157)

[William Rose]

Blood, pus, entrails, and slime erupted from the two combatants as claws tore through rotting flesh and the tendril like appendage routed through the werewolf’s insides. Antoine jumped aside as a fountain of ichor and fluid came toward him. His arm was already back, the tire iron held like a boomerang and ready to be loosed on the creature. In his mind Antoine fought desperately to retain control and not flee. Seeing the tentacle tear through the flesh of the werewolf like a worm eating it’s way through a rotten apple it was all he could do to avoid dry heaving once more. I can do this … I can do this…

Antoine aimed for a second and his arm snapped forward in a motion he completed dozens of times a day in practice. This time was different though. The iron was held differently and shaped differently. Its center of gravity was different as was its tumble and spin. In its own way it was a miracle that the thing even hit the mark at all. It flew through the air and rebounded off the creature’s head with a dull thunk and a wet splotch. Green ooze wept out of an new open wound but the thing seemed almost immune to the attack. OH COME ON!! Die, you stinking fat bitch!!

OOC: Thrown attack 8 dice +3 for willpower = 2 sux.

Willpower 6/7

[z-Amber Wren]

At home, there had been plenty of times that Amber had hurt. With so many of the adults called to war, the children had often filled in, during adult jobs. Sometimes, the kids had gotten hurt, and Amber had experienced her own fair share of pain.

This was nothing like that.

Wolfen muzzles and throats don't make good mouths with which to scream. Amber made a good attempt at it, creating an unholy sound which had no place in this world, regardless of her own place in the natural order.

And then the pain faded rapidly. It wasn't crippling, or even noticable. It was there like a buzzing in her skull, but it didn't bother her. Grinning at just how fucking awesome her own body was, Amber grabbed for the tentacle-arm with her monstrous maw. The angle was bad, but she caught it and crushed it mercilessly.

The creature shrieked itself, thrashing and writhing before going limp with a final exhaled gasp of air. Amber slumped, the fires of Garou still pounding in her chest.

Now, what were the odds of getting this thing out of her before she was forced to assume a smaller form?

[OOC Notes:

Form: Garou, Defense 3 + 1/1 Armor, 2 rounds left after this one

Essense: 6/10 (2 for quick changes in the scene, 1 for the Gift Clarity (Full Moon 1), 1 to heal damage)

Willpower: 3/3

DAMAGE: 3L/11

Actions: Reflexsive: Healing 1 level of Lethal, attacking:

Bite attack: Bite attack on the thing (1d10=2, 1d10=9, 1d10=2, 1d10=6, 1d10=5, 1d10=7, 1d10=5, 1d10=4) plus 2 dice due to pool miscalculation: +2 dice due to miscalculation (1d10=9, 1d10=10) plus rerolling the ten: Popping the ten (1d10=7) = 3 successes]

[William Rose]

Even as the werewolf went from a growling scream of agony to shredding the thing Antoine was already moving forward. His foot came smashing down on the half bloated corpse's head bone cracking and foul smelling pus and ooze spraying outward. Antoine cried out in pure exaltation, "Yeah bitch, take that shit!" Before he could do more the closer look at the creature and the more potent odor of its gaseous emissions forced Antoine to turn and double over as his body, already coming down off the momentary adrenaline surge tried once more to purge itself. Antoine slumped against the nearest building and slid to the ground in a heap at once exhausted and energized.

With a great breath he looked to the Werewolf still tangled in the corpse of the creature and said, "How about that eh? I know what you are but what the hell was that?!?"

[z-Amber Wren]

Amber tried to control the shift, but she was excited and overwought, and so when her body couldn't hold the sheer power of the Garou form. She tried to go back to the wolf, back to Urhan, but shift caused the hooks still in her body to rip and tear her body more and the shock of it ripped her control from her and slammed her right into her human form.

And so Antoine found out what was wrong with that girl who'd tried to pick him up at the frat party.

Well, fuck! Amber growled to herself as she felt her body change. Now, I've violated the Oath, just fucking perfect! Unless... he didn't run from me in Garou. He's Wolf-blooded! He has to be. And it explained why she found him so attractive - her wolf had recognized his suitability as a mate. Amber sighed with relief as she realized she wasn't going to have to kill him to keep the Oath.

"Hey, Antoine, how ya doin'? You're big and strong, mind grabbing the end of this thing and pulling it out of me?" Amber asked, bracing herself for the pain that would cause. "I'll pull too, but the angle is bad for me to get it alone. Oh, and I don't know what that thing is. I have guesses but that's all they are. Should probably find out if there's a better way to kill it."

She was already testing the wound running the length of her torso. It actually hurt a lot, but she tried to ignore that. And it was going to get a lot more painful before it got better.

[William Rose]

Antoine's eyes grew wide as, as if in reply to his question, the werewolf rippled and changed. Fur fell away and muscle, skin, and bone shifted moved and changed. As if his night weren't bad enough or weird enough as it already was Antoine got to watch as a wolf that had transformed into something out of an old Hammer film shifted and transformed into something more ... Amber?!? What the ... ooop, she's naked, and bloody and has a tentacle stuck in her ... yeah totally not sexy right now ... still, I'd tap that ... wait she's a fuckin' WEREWOLF! For all I know they eat their mates or something. Antoine stared as his stunned mind simply lost all control for a moment and babbled incoherently. He noted deep within the still functioning perceptual portion of his brain that she was talking to him, her lips moving but the sound that came through was a like a Peanuts Parent and Antoine simply couldn't grasp what she said.

After a minute Antoine’s brain rebooted and began to process the events of the past few minutes and he took stock of where he was. He saw that Amber was still there, still covered in wounds, still pinned to the ground by the tendril of sickly flesh that wrapped her leg and penetrated her flesh, tunneling through her torso and out her shoulder. Amber … Amber! Well shit, no wonder she was able to punch through a wall like nothing at all. She was probably in heat or some shit. Anita was lucky she didn’t get gutted or something. Antoine realized that she was naked but the situation made it easy for him to keep his eyes up and he then realized she had been trying to talk to him.

“Umm, err, hi. Can you … like repeat that? I kinda spaced out for a moment.” Amber gave an exasperated look but repeated her request that he help remove the tendril from he body. “Oh, yeah, sure. Just, ya know … yeah…” Antoine braced his back against the building and levered his legs under him and slowly rose up. He wasn’t achy except his gut and his throat, sinus and nose still burned from the bile and acid residue. He couldn’t smell the puke or the rotting carcass due to olfactory fatigue but he could still taste the vile concoction of dinner and digestive aids. “Unnng,” he murmured as he walked over to Amber and bent over.

The tendril was wrapped around her leg before it penetrated her high in the thigh and then erupted outward again at her shoulder through the collar bone. Gentleman or not Antoine couldn’t help but snicker as he recalled the Japanese animated porn his sophomore year roommate had liked to watch. A gentleman never looks, he though as he wrapped his hands around the tendril just before it entered her thigh ever so close to her crotch, … Never said I was a gentleman though. Antoine aligned himself as best he could to make a straight pull noting that the tendril had erupted his above Amber’s breasts. I’m either sick or I need to get laid, either way I shouldn’t even want to see her body right now. Antoine shook his head and grabbed the fleshy tentacle firmly.

“Ok on three. One … Two … Three!” Antoine heaved with all his might, the force being enough to lift Amber almost up off the ground before the flesh hook and barbed stingers began to rend mortal skin, muscle and bone. As flesh and gristle tore Amber shrieked in pain as blood, red and glistening, began to run freely from both entry and exit wounds. Still Antoine pulled, pivoting on one foot and putting his back into it until with a sudden release of tension he stumbled away toward the wall as the tendril finally ripped free from Amber. Immediately he released the tentacle and brought his hands up to stop him from running face first into the wall. “Ooff.” He grunted and wiped the slime off his hands before he turned round, taking his shirt off so that he could use it to try and stop her bleeding out.

[z-Amber Wren]

This whole evening was almost worth it just to see the gob-smacked look on Antoine's face. He clearly wasn't expecting to see the werewolf become her, and Amber chuckled to herself as she wondered which had been more surprising: finding a werewolf or finding it was her.

As he grabbed the tentacle, she dug her fingers into the rough concrete to provide traction. When Antoine pulled, she locked her arms, holding tight, even when the force of his pull lifted her hips clear of the ground. Grinding her teeth against the pain, she held firm as he ripped the barbed atrocity out of her body. "Fuck," she murmured as it finally came clear of her and with a groan, she rolled over, rising to her knees.

"You're going hurt yourself more," Antoine warned, holding his shirt in his hands.

"No, I'm not," Amber gasped as she spit blood out of her throat. Fucking thing had nicked a lung, damn it; she could feel the liquid congealing in her throat and brachial tubes. She willed the release of more of her reserves, forcing her body to knit. She hated to use the precious stuff, but she needed to be able to function in case that thing had a buddy. As she stood up and turned to face Antoine, the bleeding stopped and the raw, shredded meat on her shoulder and thigh simply became open wounds. “Say, not to be a complete mooch, but can I have that bottle of water you left in the car?”

Antoine was still staring at her rapid healing, but he got her the bottle. “Thanks,” Amber said, taking it and splashing it over her, washing away the blood and gore from her naked body. She tried to not take all the water from the bottle and there was still a mouthful or two when she handed it back to him. Rubbing her hands over her wet form, she scraped most of the moisture off her body, leaving a thin sheen of liquid that was starting to evaporate in the hot night air. “Now I’ll take that shirt, if you don’t mind,” she said, holding out her hand.

Antoine was clearly in shock; he was reacting to her rather than thinking about stuff. Time to change that, because she had a lot to tell him, she mused as she pulled the shirt over her head. It was huge on her; it wouldn’t stay on both her shoulders, and the hem hung to mid-thigh. It was almost a too-short dress. “Hey, you ok? I know that’s kind of a dumb question, because of what we just did and what that thing is. But are you going to be able to keep it together?” she asked, tilting her head. “Cause I’m sure you have questions, and you and me gotta have a talk.”

[William Rose]

Antoine was keeping it together, which surprised him as much as anything in the past five minutes. He watched, staring openly because he could do little else as Amber’s wounds had regenerated going from open battle wounds to looking days old and significantly healed. He handed her his t-shirt and watched as she put it on. The thing was massive and she looked like a child or like she was wearing a toga. … She wears it well either way. He registered her voice again and despite the Peanuts Parents he was able to pick it up at the end. “Umm, well I just saw a … zombie I guess … attack a werewolf who then turned into a chick I was macking on at a party just last weekend. I’m not sure that ok would apply but being that I have no plans to shit my pants and that I already lost my dinner …. Yeah I guess I’m holding up ok considering.”

Antoine was looking at the corpse and noted the clothing that was overfilled and yet staying just this side of seam ripping. “I’m guessing that this thing is pretty normal for you. Killing zombie things I mean. Not standing in alleys wearing only a t-shirt.” He smiled goofily, clearly trying to cut the tension and relieve his nerves. “Yeah I got questions. Questions like, what they hell can make a chick swell up like fuckin’ half Jabba the damned Hutt and half zombie? Had to have happened quickly given that the bloating happened around the clothes, I’ve seen ankles do that after a bad sprain.”

Antoine kicked the body over and prodded at the pockets of the pants and looked for rings and other jewelry on the corpse. “Maybe there’s something left to tell us who she was. Or it … whatever.” He looked over his shoulder as he squatted down and glanced at Amber. “Ok so what’s your deal little miss werewolf? ... oh score… looks like we got an ID.” Antoine’s big fingers finally managed to fish out the license from the back pocket. “Denise Taylor. Not to bad looking in life it would seem. And … well she lived damn near here, looks like this building here.” He passed Amber the ID. This is so weird that it has wrapped all the way ‘round and become almost normal like. I’m searching a zombie with a tentacle arm while talking to the werewolf that I helped to kill it. I should be running down the damn street screaming bloody murder. But no I’m searching the damn body for clues …

Antoine suddenly started laughing interrupting Amber before she had a chance to react. She gave him a look like “Uh Oh he’s snapped and I’ll have to rip him into kibble now.” Instead Antoine said, “Sorry … hahaha… I just though …. Heheheh …. I just thought I could really use a Scooby Snack right about now.” He fell onto his ass as he burst into laughter again. “OK ok ok … heh … ok so you wanted to talk … about all this I can only assume … Go ahead, shoot.”

[z-Amber Wren]

"Haha, you're fuckin' hiralious," Amber said, but she was fighting a little smile, too. She didn't try to stop him from having his laughing fit; it sounded like he needed the release. And it gave her the chance to watch his fantastic muscles flex as he laughed. Geez, he's really tasty, she thought to herself, very aware that she had one article of clothing on and not much else. The very air around her felt warmer as her body decided that this was a very good thing and caused certain chemical reactions. Sadly, this wasn't the time.

"Not to blow your mind or anything," Amber said softly, looking down at the corpse, "but this is my first zombie, too. If it is a zombie. I usually deal in the less empherial baddie, but I've heard that they can incorporate drastic changes in human hosts. Yeah... this isn't ashing, so not vampire, and it isn't dissolving so we're going to have to bury it. Also..." she hunched down next to it, balancing on her toes and failing to notice the effects that posture was having on the edge of the shirt. "This change has occurred in the last twenty-four hours, I estimate. She could have been Host It's just not usually this rapid. If it had claimed her, I don't know that it could have forced changes so rapidly."

Amber peered closely at the id, as if it would magically revel truths about the woman it represented if she looked at it hard enough. "Well, I'd have to go get my clothes if we wanted to go into her building tonight, though, given the hour we may not learn much. It's late to be knocking on doors. All we'd get is angry residents, I think." She brightened up a little. "Though we could go knocking on her door, see who answers." Amber looked down at her bare knees before rising from her crouch. "Again, that would mean gettin' my pants.

"But talking... I don't want to do that here," Amber added, glancing around the alley. "We need to get rid of the body, because we can't let the authorities find it like this. Mind if I take a look under your hood and see if I can see what's wrong?"

[William Rose]

Antoine can't help but watch as Amber hunkered down next to the body and flashed him. Oh boy this could be a long night... "Yeah, pants... don't need em on account of me, I think I've already seen all there is to see about you babe. Hairy anger issues and all. Still ... we should check her apt an make sure there's no kids or anything in danger. You think we could burn this thing? I got a can of gas for emergencies in the car. And yeah if you can fix the heap let me know. I'm no mechanic." He watched her and considered the possibilities, wondering just how the evening after the party would have gone had they gone home together. It's never too late to find out ... assuming she promises not to bite ...

[z-Amber Wren]

"Yeah. Yeah, let's torch it," Amber said softly. "I'm going to check the car, because if we can get it away from the city, it'll be easier to burn. Or, we can cut it up and stuff the parts under the street in the storm drains." Los Angeles was famous for its wide and deep storm drains; they accumulated trash like no one's business. It'd be easy to get the pieces down there and then light the whole mess on fire. Or here in the dark alley. Either way.

Antoine muttered something about a pair of sweatpants as Amber popped the hood and took a look at the engine. She stood on her tiptoes and rested her hips against the grill of the old car, peering deep into the depths of the engine. After a moment, she was shaking her head. "Damn it. Antoine, you have a couple of problems. First, a coil in a raditor hose is broken and when the water pump tries to draw out the hot water, the hose has been collapsing, blocking the flow. And it looks like that's damaged the water pump. I could fix it but not here, and not without parts."

"Is it expensive?" he asked from behind her, and Amber looked over her shoulder. He was holding more clothes she noted as she shrugged.

"The part is not too expensive, depending on make, model and honesty of the repair man," she said, leaning back and lowering the hood. She turned to face him, leaning back against the car and propping herself up on her arms. "The labor is intensive though, and that's going to be expensive. Again, it depends on the repairman in question. But yeah... not cheap. What's that?"

"A pair of shorts for you - draw stringed, so you can wear them," he added, offering the shorts to her.

"What, you want me stop being naked?" she asked with a laugh, taking them from him and slipping them on.

"I've already seen the show, and you're right, if we're going to get up to the apartment, you need something more than my shirt," Antoine said.

"When's my turn to see your show?" Amber asked, adjusting the shorts. She made sure to draw it out a little, give him a few teasing glances of her now-hidden body. "This is getting unfair."

[ooc: Checking the engine (1d10=10, 1d10=2, 1d10=4, 1d10=1, 1d10=9) plus reroll: Poppin the ten (1d10=8) = 3 successes]

[William Rose]

Antoine laughed, deep, rich, and hearty chuckles coming from under the t-shirt he was putting on. "You had your chance at the party but you punched a hole in a wall babe, and you just turned from a wolf to a ... whatever back to sexy little you. I'm still not sure you aren't going to try to mate with me and then bit my damned head off like a ... uh ... " he snaps his fingers a thinking, "A preying mantis." He gives Amber a wink and a smile but Amber can see by the look in his eyes that he's only half joking, that he's more than a little apprehensive about her at the moment despite being drawn in by hormones and her unorthodox outfit of the moment.

Still he locked the car and closed the door. "Sorry I don't have any extra shoes but even if I did they'd be clown wear on you anyways. Lets torch that thing..." He hefts a 1 gallon gas can up and starts back down the alley. He pours out half the can onto the stinking thing and then dribbles a line back out toward the mouth of the alley. "You wanna do the honors? It fucked up your shit way worse than mine."

He hands her a book of matches, hoping she will not comment about the strip club they came from. She looks at them, and with a purposeful look at Antoine drops a lit match onto the gas. The flame runs down the gas line and soon the corpse is alight with blue and orange fire. As the flame begins to burn the body the fire turns smoky and redder as the body itself begins to burn.

"OK lets check out her place. The tow truck is still ... twenty minutes out unless he gets here early." Antoine puts the gas can back into the car and closes it up again. "And then, yeah you need to explain what the hell I just saw... and yeah ... stuff." He smiles again as though unsure what else he should do.

[z-Amber Wren]

Amber actually laughed when he mentioned a preying mantis, a surprised bark of laughter that made her look younger, closer to her true age. "A preying mantis? Wow, that's," she stopped talking to giggle a little. "That's the first time anyone's ever referenced sex with me as fatal. Now, let's think about this. If I ate your head, how would I get to enjoy round two and three with you? Trust me, in bed, I mate like the next woman - ok, maybe a little more aggressively. But I won't bite your head off - either one. Way too many other uses for them."

Together, they headed into the building. "Explainin'. Yeah, wow. Let's see," Amber said, trying to decide what she could say here and now. He was probably going to freak out, and she'd rather do that in private. "See, what's going on here doesn't affect just me. You're... well, the term is Wolf-blooded, but you can think of it like you're kin. Spiritually. It's why you were able to watch me run around in Garou form. Most humans, well, they can't handle it. They instinctively run away." She gave him an almost shy smile. "You don't. Makes you special to us, to... um, we have another language, and in it, we call ourselves Uratha."

They stepped into the elevator and Amber hit the button for the right floor. "Not only do you hang around us better, but you have a greater chance to become Uratha yourselves. And so... uh, well, no way to put this delicately. So do your babies. So you're important to us. We cherish and protect... you know what, I think I'm straying into creepyville here."

[William Rose]

Antoine chuckled at Amber's reply, "Careful there, you might just get your chance. And trust me, that stereotype about black men and their dicks does indeed happen to be true." He looks at he with a dead serious look, "And mine's scaled to fit." He was unable to hold the serious look and instead laughed and gave Amber a wink.

As Amber explained that she thought Antoine was some sort of partway werewolf he looked at her an nodded, "Yeah maybe just a little creepy. I'm not sure what you think I am but I can tell you I'm no werewolf, not even just a little. Maybe you were right too, maybe this can all wait until we're somewhere else." Antoine stopped at the door for the apartment on the ID. He tried the door and found it partway open already, "Looks like this is the place. Hello, is anybody home?" He knocked on the door as he pushed it open and looked inside.

[z-Amber Wren]

Amber laughed softly at his remarks, equal parts expectation and promise in her tone. This was going so much better than at the party, and Amber had to admit that maybe her 'knock them over with boldness' wasn't the best way. Oh, who the fuck was she kidding? She'd went in there and gotten exactly what she'd wanted, and would have kept it but for that damned cheerleader.

But maybe now she was interested in something deeper. The word 'mate' danced tantalizingly in her mind, promising a near-equal and a partner in life. And a father to Melody, one she deserved instead of the ass she'd gotten.

Amber shut that away. That was a long time away, even by the speed at which the Uratha moved. But having a young star-football college student for a boyfriend would give her legitimacy, the kind she could seek for years. Antoine. He even had a regal ring to the name. It would help her in her quest to regain her daughter so much-

With effort, Amber again shut those thoughts away. Now was not the time or the place, not with Antoine pushing the door open. Amber peered closely into the apartment, but didn't see anything suspicious. It looked like a single woman lived here and was neat and well-kept. She eased forward a step, careful not to touch anything. Her toe stuck something and sent it rolling across the floor with the twinkle of glass.

Frowning, Amber crouched down and peered at the twin bottle to the one she'd kicked. It was small and brown, with a built-in eyedropper in the lid. A tiny amount of dark liquid was in the bottom. Glancing around the room, she saw one of the eyedroppers in the open, lying on its side. A few remaining drops of red liquid stained the inside of the eyedropper. "Oh, god... Antoine, could that be Crimson?"