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1033058 No. 1033058 ID: e1b763

The world was supposed to end. Way back in 1995 or 1997 or 1999 or 2000 with that whole Y2K non-sense. Gosh, there was also 2012. Remember that one, supposedly predicted by the Aztecs or the Mayans or some shit? Here we are though, alive on a planet drifting pointlessly through space.

Here's the thing - The world really did die. Attacked from all sides and hit with every horror imaginable the human race finally met its end - In a singular moment of horror that still has no name.

This was unacceptable. In the barest moments when you see your life flash before your eyes, humanity had what amounted to a collective seizure. The end having finally arrived, the Wheel stood still in denial. Eyes opened to the dead world as it did to the living one just the day before.

So it was. Or wasn’t, as the case may be.

Right now it’s 2013. It’s hard to be alive but people are still moving. Right now you’re at a gas station in Portland Oregon, filling up the tank for a long ride and using this as your last chance to get candy and booze. We’ll worry about what you brought on the trip and why you're going on it later. Let’s start with this.

Who are you and what do you do? Also, where are you? Well, besides at the gas station. Are you the waiting type or the go get snacks type? Maybe you’re the ‘talk to the person at the register’ type?
64 posts omitted. Last 50 shown. Expand all images
>>
No. 1037480 ID: e1b763

Jennifer —

Have you ever watched Spirited Away? What with the spirits who walk around. It was so colorful and vibrant - so many different critters and souls and entities. The real world isn’t like that. You can see the tapestry - know you can step through - step over - step across - step sideways - through the Moon.

This place is tar and ink. It’s been that way since the mountain. The only clear pool glowing in the sky. Even that was covered - remember how dark it got when Sarah said what her name was. Walking to it would prove difficult - though walking isn’t the right word. You can’t walk to the Moon.

Something tells you to do so anyways. To find a place where the air isn’t tar and ink and slippery walled. A place that feels alive. A place higher up - spiritually - to help you jump over the moon - spiritually.

Something more - unseen. Spirits around you. At the top of a telephone pole lies a resting lightning spirit - sleeping and feeding and awake all at once. Invisible to you but also not. If you focus your eyes and are a bit lucky. You pass a place with many cardboard boxes - a spirit resides there too. A box spirit.

You see the city. Its glow otherworldly. The spirit of Portland Oregon walks in Portland. It should be across the Moon. It should be where you want to go - where the animal inside your soul wishes to run free at. It would be hard to hunt it down. That glow is everywhere.

Everyone—

So the wolf man rants to Havel - open hearted. Something about her words draw out more words from him and then it tumbles out as a story. A confusing convoluted mess of a story.

Theodore was once a proud Werewolf. He fought and died proudly during the apocalypse. A time when everyone and everything died. These are, apparently, hallucinations. The apocalypse never happened. His pack fought a war against a tribe of werewolves called the Black Spiral clan. This clan, this fallen tribe, has a vast history unto itself. His pack fought the Wyrm and lost. This also was a hallucination. They fought the fallen tribe and lost to its horrors and he ran - afraid - and has been living alone and running ever since. The only one alive and unfallen. Because he ran before fighting.

Hallucinations is not the right word. He knows his past and what really happened. He fought the Black Spirals and lost. He ran before the fight began, too afraid to fight. Knowing he would die. This is wrong. He knows, as all remaining uncorrupted werewolves know, that they did not run. They fought. They died. They lost.

Things are - as you can tell - all so very fucky. He proves this by motioning to himself. He should be dead. Instead he is alive with the history of a coward. Or at least what he considers one.

The vampires. Yes, he could sniff them out. He knows nothing of them though - besides that they love their secrets and call cities their home. They are of the Wyrm. A beast with three heads of whom is corruption, destruction, suffering personified. Yes, he could sniff them out. He knows nothing else besides that of them, though. Besides the fact that they’re better left unbothered unless their corruption grows too bold. They are hard to reach in their havens and tend not to leave their places of power.

It is clear however that they infect all facets of mortal life. So that may be an interesting tidbit to know.

It's around this time that the wolf outside the window slowly comes too. A low growl escaping its throat. Waking slowly.
>>
No. 1038281 ID: 719a05

>>1037480
> The vampires. Yes, he could sniff them out. He knows nothing of them though - besides that they love their secrets and call cities their home. They are of the Wyrm. A beast with three heads of whom is corruption, destruction, suffering personified. Yes, he could sniff them out. He knows nothing else besides that of them, though. Besides the fact that they’re better left unbothered unless their corruption grows too bold. They are hard to reach in their havens and tend not to leave their places of power.

"Great, then sniffing out those places of power and doing important trimming is exactly what we're going to be doing tomorrow night." The being who was once Sarah said. She honestly should probably be heading home, but she didn't want to go out in daylight because obviously.

> It's around this time that the wolf outside the window slowly comes too. A low growl escaping its throat. Waking slowly.


"In the meantime, what do we all plan on doing about that guy."
>>
No. 1038284 ID: 719a05

rolled 2, 7, 2, 1, 6, 5, 6, 10, 8, 8, 5, 2, 6, 4, 5, 7, 6, 8, 9, 3, 3, 1, 9, 3, 6, 8, 6, 10, 9, 7, 8, 5, 6, 10, 7, 1, 2, 5, 4, 8, 8, 1, 7, 7, 9, 7, 4, 5, 2, 3 = 281

>>
No. 1038922 ID: c4d4f5
File 165851433612.jpg - (3.44MB , 2048x1350 , doggo in comfy skylight house watching morning.jpg )
1038922

>>1038281
>"In the meantime, what do we all plan on doing about that guy."
"Talk to it, try to confirm what Theodore's been telling us. Probably throw it out, afterwards," Hazel replies noncommittally, "I was all for bringing it along, but now that it's here I'm kind of out of ideas on how to make it talk. I figured we'd probably end up killing it, but looking at it now, I'm not even getting vibes that make me think it'd come back for us."

"Also," Hazel adds, rubbing her chin, "I was much more willing to kill it before the other one popped into a billion spiders that tried to eat me."
>>
No. 1039082 ID: 4e340f

>>1037480
Jennifer has seen Spirited Away. Also Princess Mononoke, and from those she's seen evidence that some people believed in spirits. They were in several public libraries on VHS, or she likely wouldn't have seen them. Still, she always approached them as fiction, not as reality. Somehow she never expected spirits to be a thing she would have to deal with. And even if she did, she half-expected whimsy and wonder. Well, the wonder is still there. The whimsy? It reminds her, an old memory bubbling up, of My Neighbor Totoro. It was supposed to be a fun children's movie. No one told her to watch out for a mass of tiny black spirits spilling forth in an unstoppable tide, tiny innumerable eyes opening by the ton as the black mass swarmed forwards. Sure, in the movie it turned out to be just innocent fluffs, but tell that to her nightmares, of being buried under an inky tide.
Okay, so maybe the memory has a reason for being. And on reflection, the tar while ever-present and cloying and death - paradoxically the spirits still, somehow, live. Jennifer wonders, recalling a series of jokes overheard in the cafeteria, if the box spirit can help her hide, lay in ambush. She somehow knows the words to say, words that are not English, nor Spanish, nor Japanese - she doesn't know any language but English, but she's heard enough languages to know that the language she now also knows isn't any that the people of earth as a whole speak. She knows that if she says a certain thing in a certain tone, with the right gestures - the spirit can understand. She leaves it alone, for now. She wonders, if she were to strike down the lightning spirit would it take out power to the block? She doesn't want to find out now, but eventually...
Curiosity alight, she takes to the skies, once more just a bat, in form at least, and from above takes a look at the city as a whole, the landscape and spirit scape glowing together - or, well, negative light is still a glow? Tarry residue still sticks out. And the light of the moon, and the faint laughter of mercurial moon spirits, gives a moment of respite. Maybe the moonspirits are from the now, maybe it's just distant echoes of the past, but Jennifer hears them and in them hears that there's something she can do - if only she could figure it out. And she knows that tonight, or maybe just this afternoon - before she meets up with the group of changed she ended up a member of - she'll be going for a quick flight, see if she can see or hear places where the spirits are strong - or where they are dead. Scope out some interesting locations. But that came later.

That came later after the talk with Dory the Wolfman. Moving back in time a little, before she split off the group to head home to her dorm, before she got distracted by the spirits and ended up filling herself up on moths and insects and taking a nap in a tree for an hour before finally winging her way home collapsing into her bed, she just learned that vampires are in fact real. And that wow, wolfmen - and maybe wolfwomen too? have had a hard time. And that she hates time travel and temporal shenanigans. So so much. Isn't enough for things to happen once and not just in multiple ways at the same time? Gah, so annoying. "But the spiders didn't try to eat you? They mostly just fled in a delicious wave." Being a bat and a human may be warping Jenifer's thoughts. Just a little. "And maybe it won't happen this time?" She really should care more about the thought of killing. She really should. She thinks she would have before last night. Now she just has a sense of - well, not hunger, but she gets the feeling that if something were just a little bit different she would have some hunger. Right now she just thinks of it as an enemy. "Maybe if we show interest in it's beliefs it would be willing to try to convert us? Based on what Theo told us maybe they'd be willing to talk about it's tribe's history. Maybe drop some more information on where more of them can be found, or where enemies are, of either our or theirs?" Currently a human, and rocking a hoody that, to the discrete eye, is twitching back and forth and not doing as good a job hiding a pair of oversized ears as she would like - good thing a lot of people aren't very observant - Jenifer isn't that concerned to the wolf-man's survival. Either of them, really. Turning back to the cooperative one, she gives him a look. One that speaks of annoyance and a ruined vacation. "Where was your tribe before? Any other locations where we can expect to find these guys? Or just locations in general you would avoid?" It's the start of a mini-interrogation to get the lay of the supernatural land.
>>
No. 1039087 ID: c4d4f5
File 165866959688.jpg - (126.34KB , 950x687 , dog street.jpg )
1039087

>>1039082
>"But the spiders didn't try to eat you? They mostly just fled in a delicious wave." Being a bat and a human may be warping Jenifer's thoughts. Just a little. "And maybe it won't happen this time?"
"A delicious wave that tried to eat me, no doubt," Hazel replies, shivering. "Who's to say it won't happen again?"

Me, the spider inside her replies. Hazel jumps, and drops her knife into the sink's water in surprise.

"Shit. Other than him," Hazel curses, shuddering. "It happened once, why wouldn't it happen again?"

Because your own Art caused the effect. If you refrain from swallowing souls, spiders will not pour from corpses, the spider replies. Hazel was more ready for it this time, and managed not to cut herself fishing her knife out of the murky wash-water.

"Not listening," she mumbles to her spider, under her breath.

>"Maybe if we show interest in it's beliefs it would be willing to try to convert us? Based on what Theo told us maybe they'd be willing to talk about it's tribe's history."
"That's good thinking, Jennifer," Hazel compliments. When Theodore has finished answering Jennifer's questions, she says, "Theodore, it's waking up. Do you want to want to be out the door by the time it's awake? I don't think we're going to keep you through the day. Actually, do you have anywhere to go at all?"
>>
No. 1039274 ID: cff70e

>>1039087
"A tide of really tiny spiders, which mostly were just running away and not trying to eat anything. Like, not talking down because it was pretty spooky, and I get that you're already scared of spiders, but they were very much running away."
>>
No. 1039319 ID: e1b763

>>1039082
>>Jennifer has seen Spirited Away. Also Princess...

Yes - Remember. When all those dust bunny things just ran into every crack of that abandoned… home? Anyhoo, like a thorn - or an instinct brought to attention (You Are Breathing. You Are Blinking.) something about that feels… yeah. Like one of those instincts but made murkier. Murkier, but not impossible.

>>Okay, so maybe the memory has a reason...
So you take to the sky. The earth is a dead thing - marred and muddy. The sky is just as nasty. So is space, if you could reach it. Although - there is one point in the sky that shines. It’s far away, about 238,855 miles away. If you flew high enough - past the clouds and where there is no polluted miasma we like to call air - where the sky is no longer blue - when the Moon is high - you would find it easier to reach the Moon. That really big number of miles meaning very little with your magic involved. Think of the vanishing Dust Bunnies.

That’s if you could get that high. No air, sunburns, what form would you need to fly higher than the clouds and the highest mountain tops? What animal could possibly reach above Everest?

A tall order just to make fulfilling an instinct easier. Still…

>>That came later after the talk with Dory the Wolfman. Moving...

This brings more information from the Wolf-Man. Well, Theodore. Anyways. Yes. Yes, in so many ways, there are many Werewolf tribes out there. Sort of. They’ve all but all fallen to the Wyrm. Danced the Black Spiral. A choice forced upon them and not forced upon them.

See - Werewolves and other such creatures are basically half spirits. It’s complicated - Theodore was a member of a group called the Gets of Fenris. Many of them came here to get away from some nasty shit and got really hooked up with another group of Werewolves called the Children of Gaia. Apparently it was the best thing that happened to him and the people that went with him. It was also a huge thing, filled with drama. He doesn’t want to get into it unless pushed - it seems more like politics then anything relevant now.

Now though, it’s just the Black Spiral Dancers. Another meaningless story he doesn’t want to get into - but now no more tribes. Just a few assumed splinters and Dancing Wolves galore. That and other creatures tainted beyond redemption. He does believe there to be surviving wolves though - uncorrupted. There is just no hope in meeting one left.

He could recognize a member of his people though. Tell how strong a grip the Wyrm has on it. Roughly, at least.

As to places to avoid? The city. The mountains. Nowhere is safe. The spirit world is even less so. Not that he trusts the attempt to go there. Or being there, for that matter.

>>1039087
"Theodore, it's waking up. Do you want to want to...

“I, what. Go? I don’t…” Theodore thinks for a moment. 'Okay, they’re offering to let me go?' is what he’s thinking. No one is technically a mind-reader but that’s easy enough to see. A surprise there. A longer pause. “...No? I would like to see how you handle Wolf. Just make sure she doesn’t howl.”

Then outside - by the Wolf in a garden. A still beast growling a low deep growl. It can’t move. It could hardly gargle out a word. This one is the one with missing limbs, is it not? An arm and a leg, or a paw and a paw. All the hate and rage in the world stares up at you from the grass with sick eyes.

A giant ass wolf. One big ass wolf. Fucking. Huge. Can it even talk in this form? Somehow - when and if it sees Theodore - it musters up even more rage and hate. The body even manages to move a tiny bit. Then it just continues to stare silently.
>>
No. 1039458 ID: c4d4f5
File 165905680303.jpg - (175.29KB , 900x1244 , older toph.jpg )
1039458

>>1039319
>Okay, they’re offering to let me go?
>I would like to see how you handle Wolf. Just make sure she doesn’t howl.
"Sure thing," Hazel replies. It wouldn't really matter to her if he left at this point, after all. Though, being more accurate, it may simply be that lack of sleep was making her loopy; after all, she'd been ready to bed down just after dark, but instead they'd driven back in a spider-filled van that gave her the jitters just thinking about it and spent the rest of the night Q&A'ing, waiting for the wolf to wake up. She'd be conking out soon, either way.

>it musters up even more rage and hate. The body even manages to move a tiny bit. Then it just continues to stare silently.
Stepping outside with some of the food she'd left aside earlier set on a plate, Hazel sets her load down on her folding table outside. Cheese and biscuits, ideal for visitors. Hazel mourned for the nascent kebabs she'd had to leave at the campsite.

"So, we want to learn a little about you," she starts off, taking a seat. "Theodore's been telling us a lot, and this is your chance to tell us otherwise. I don't have anything a wolf would be likely to eat, but if you're willing to join me at the table and explain why you thought trying to kill us was a good idea, you might still make it out of this."
>>
No. 1040110 ID: e1b763

>>1039458
"Breaking the Litany?" It's voice is an unnatural thing; growling and creaking and straining. Vocal cords shifting to make sounds that should be intimidating to most ears. If a wolfs barking was turned to English - it would be the translator.

"Breaking the Litany, Sad-Dog?" Beast eyes on Theodore. He's expressionless. Her eyes wash over everyone. Sniffs the air. Eyes turn to Sarah and Allison. "You two smell of Father Wyrm." A few more sniffs, eyes darting to Hazel and Jennifer. A lack of recognition.

"Free me." She snarls. Deep voiced and guttering. "I don't know how you managed to kill my packmates or what the hell you fucks are but free me and I can promise you that your house and friends will be left unharmed."

"No." Theodore says. "She will promise anything and break any oath."

She snarls - never too loud. Smart enough to know that a loud enough noise might earn her a silver knife to the heart. Though - it seems like maybe she could make a loud noise and simply isn't doing that.

"Fuck you, coward. I will not be kept in a... yard? A fucking yard? I don't know what kind of creatures you are or what pacts you have made with what creatures but know this: you are outnumbered and my kind will come looking for me." Wolf eyes gleaming. "Free me and we will allow you to be the last to die."

To this Theodore just opens and closes his mouth. Then - quite quietly - "Even if we kill her - others will come looking. They will try to kill you and everything you love and have ever touched. You would have to cleans the entire mountain and purge every Garou here to stop it." Then. "If she tries to make a loud noise - do not allow it."

"No fuck, Sad-Dog. I was a proper fucking wolf before Gaia died a second time. I know when I'm prey and when I'm predator." She continues. "You all were nothing but a passing snack. A toy to play with as we made a kill. It was amusement. Free me and we'll leave you alone. Don't and my packs find me and everything you know and loves dies. I have no reason to come after someone when I've seen them obliterate two of my pack before my fucking eyes."

Theodore is having trouble talking.
>>
No. 1040117 ID: 40bf57

rolled 5, 5, 2, 3, 8, 7, 10, 7, 1, 9, 2, 3, 1, 8, 10, 2, 8, 9, 2, 9, 1, 2, 5, 9, 3, 3, 7, 10, 9, 5, 10, 9, 1, 9, 4, 7, 6, 9, 8, 4, 8, 9, 5, 2, 4, 8, 5, 7, 6, 10 = 296

>>1040110
"Alright, this is... It seems like it's not going anywhere. But what I'm getting is that you and all the Werewolves on the mountain are hyper territorial murder machines who have made the absolutely terrible decision to threaten the only people that a dead woman has left to care about."

Sarah would wrap her hand around the Wolf's muzzle and would look her dead in the eyes with the blood red mockeries of her once blue eyes.

"So here's my ultimatum. Tell me where the rest of your pack is hiding out, and I'll return that favor you were offering of making sure you die last. Refuse and I will rip off your muzzle with my bare hand until you're willing to comply."

Of course, in spite of her words, the Abyssal formerly known as Sarah wasn't exactly a threatening individual, but there was still a silver knife right in plain view of the Werewolf as she opened her grip enough that she could talk.
>>
No. 1040121 ID: e1b763

The wolf girl stares at Not-Sarah. Words that are all teeth.

"Sure. Sure. I'll even take you there. They hide inside -"

"No." Theodore interrupts. "If you learn this, then there is nothing that they won't do to kill you all. You - "

"Inside the Mount Hood. Through a fucking hole in the ground. I mean, not all of them. Some wander the city. Some wander the woods. You see a wolf at night? You see a rat in the shadows? We are all over. And others. All over the world. That I don't know about."

Then, maybe seeing an opportunity. Also silver.

"Sad-Dog here will be no use to you. You find our hole. Discover its location. Then what? I can find more pits for you. No one will trust this Sad-Dog here. They will trust me."
>>
No. 1040124 ID: d3af64

>>1040121
"Well, that's definitely a better deal than running and hiding." She would say looking daggers into Theodore's direction.

"Is there anyone who would be opposed to going there and burning this pit to the ground as soon as we're well rested? I know where we can get plenty of Silver, so we can be prepared to actually deal with them. But speaking of rest, you said you aren't comfortable staying in a yard, so where are you comfortable sleeping. But it will have to be big enough for two, and dark. Since we can't exactly let you run back to the pits while any of us sleep."
>>
No. 1040244 ID: e1b763

>>1040124
Theodore speaks up, trying not to be too loud. Not a ton of emotion in this one. This whole conversation seems to frustrate him some, however.

"It is a death trap. A whole pack of wolves live there along with demons and other horrid things. I have been there - walked it - it is a horrible disgusting thing that fills the mind with horror and poisons the soul. It goes deep - taking all light with it. It goes on for miles, deep under the mountain. Like a maze."

"If you want to kill my pack," the she wolf lies with her head on the dirt, as if resting, but her eyes. They are so alive. So poisoned with hate. "You go there. It's where we live and get lost." Can a wolf grin? "If you are quick, you could get deep before reinforcements arrive. See? I'm helpful. Attacking our pit will draw the Wolves that make the mountain their home. If you're sure of your power then it should be easy to be victorious before reinforcements arrive."

"It is a trap. It's a literal maze!" Theodore says, raising his voice probably much too high. "No one but the most vile call that place home - why do you think it will take time for reinforcements to arrive? Because even the worst of us do not want to call that place home."

"Oh," the wolf mutters. "The greatest of our kind have no problem at all with living in the pits."

Theodore just grits his teeth, pondering. Some horrors clearly left a mystery to him.
>>
No. 1040290 ID: b7e7ba

>>1040244
"Alright, so it's a hostile maze filled with people who die if you hit them with silver and know the territory better. So how many of these wolves are there. Also, what are these demons? Are they things that can strike you from beyond the veil that separates worlds?"

She rubbed her chin contemplatively.

"Also, if they are never all in this pit at the same time, then about how many could we expect to be inside the pit and how many would we have to deal with in terms of reinforcement, and how fast can reinforcement arrive? Would their disposition be to stand and fight seeking glory or run away to try and attack with the entire pack? Are there any notable main support beams that would collapse the whole thing if they were exploded?

"I know where we can get a lot of Silver, does anyone know how to have it made into weapons in a short time frame? What about flamethrowers... Actually," she reaches inside of herself and pulls out a flamethrower, with the tank appearing on her back "cool I can just do that. That should make fighting in cramped tunnels against extremely flammable mass murderers easier."
>>
No. 1040416 ID: 4e340f

>>"Not listening"
Ignoring the talking-to-self, as a good friend does, Jennifer nevertheless gives up trying to convince of theharmlessness of spiders. Somethings aren't worth fighting about. And then its time to talk to wolves, and soon enough whoops shes abat-monster again, just kind of there in the background while Hazel does her thing.
And while it may take a bit, from her posture and the shifting of wings her interest in burning out pits of corruption would, in fact be as clear as the light of moon on a cloudless night - and that's very clear, to be clear. But at the same time, well, fighting beasts on thier home territory - for some reason Jennifer doesn't like that thought as much as she would before. And if there are in fact, these foes scattered about in ordinary rats and in lone wolves in the night, why, then it's time to take back the night. And maybe find some of those lost in the world at large, for that matter.
Though when the flamethrower comes out, well, that's a powerful argument right there. Still, "Do you know how to use that?" comes through as a clear thought.

>> A tall order...
Where there's a will there's a way. And even as she wings over the town, when the time comes to do so, Jennifer will be pondering how - maybe one of those spiders that makes parachute's out of webbing, catch the jetstream to get some height, as an intermediate stage? She'll have to ask Hazel if she can control the type of spider that comes out of her transmute corpse to spider spell.
>>
No. 1040746 ID: e1b763

>>1040416
Hot air balloon? If you knew how to sew and had some mechanical skills and weren't too worried about getting down then... Maybe. There are also many army surplus stores and such in Portland. The maths on how many balloons it takes to lift a full grown human being though and how high that could get you before the surplus balloons pop...

There is a feeling - that a spider silk hot air balloon would actually be easy to make with the proper... dedication. Yes indeed, nothing feels off limits.

----------------------

So we're on the way back to Mount Hood. You're outnumbered, you know that for sure. The Wolf-Lady spoke of Banes (basically evil demons) and other Dancers. It's no where special. Literally a hole by a rock.

It's all about picking the time and hopping in the car.

In the car. Or cars? Imagination brings to mind snacks and water. Not to ride on - but to have for the apparent miles that you'll have to be walking in total darkness.

It'll take quite a bit of hiking but you'll get there. Will you park on the side of the road or... some place else? What is the plan of approach?
>>
No. 1040992 ID: e1b763

You’ve done this ride before. Part of it, at least. Everyone takes the highway to get places, after all. Mount Hood is always right there on the horizon and you watch it grow larger, dominating the landscape. Reaching to the heavens. Theodore is watching the Wolf-Girl. She did not want to take human form but Theodore is malleable. If she tries to move, he will kill her. If she tries to howl, he will plunge a silver blade in her throat to silence her.

She laughed at this - he looked as broken as ever. Dagger in hand - if you let him have it. He will beg, of course, for you not to go. “No, you mustn’t. It is suicide. It is death. You go down, cramped, for so long. An ancient holy place, tainted beyond recognition.”

—--------

Fuck that. You’re already here. It takes time but you are. So silent - you hear no bugs. You hear no chirps. You see no animals. You can move around the trees, coming from an angle where the wind is blowing your smell away.

—-----------

Theodore said more about this place. So did the Wolf-Girl. You will go down. Werewolves are forced down, transformed, and they are rather large. They have to force their way through however. For something human sized it will be cramped but you will have room. You know to expect a climb.

“It will open to a large chamber. Quite suddenly and the ground is at least twenty feet below. This is the heart of the place - filled with poison. The worst of us will be there, the ones that can no longer bring themselves to leave the filth. We - they - throw bodies inside if they don’t drag them screaming inside.”

How big is this room? Vast. You could hold an army inside it. Pile up so many bodies. It is still one chamber however. He hasn’t really been a true Black Spiral Dancer for at least a month now. They breed demons. And just breed. Then apparently eat the babies? Well, fuck.

The Wolf Girl laughed and laughed and then shut up when Theodore said even she only went inside one time. For some reason that silenced her. That same look, so briefly, that you saw in Theodore's eyes.

—------------

A wolf stares at you, from the rock that marks the place you intend to descend. It didn’t smell you - but now it can see you. The wolf smiles - such a massive beast and so obviously not native to this area. It’s a clean beast, so very very pretty. Such a pretty smile.

It walks closer and that smile takes up so much of its face. It’s so inviting. It’s like a dog - but bigger. Drool oozes from his mouth. How cute, it wants you to give it food! It walks closer and your heart feels…?
>>
No. 1041176 ID: 87981b

>>1040992
Well, we came to this place to kill wolves and wolf like creatures. If this is actually a dog then she'll feel guilty about this, but better to be guilty and alive than betrayed and dead.

Not-Sarah takes the rocket launcher slung around her torso and shoots a silver stuffed frag grenade at the big dog wolf.
>>
No. 1042032 ID: e1b763

Three werewolves are crippled by a silver-shrapnel RPG. Chucks and blood. One flees after barking a command - the other attempts to do… something. Not-Sarah Lands, they stare at Not-Sarah with what seems like enough hate to melt steel. Then nothing. Whatever they were grasping at beyond the reach of their torn up hands.

The snake smashes. The snake holds down Jennifer, taking a bite in the process. More blood. It lets out a triumphant hiss - knowing that the Lunar is trapped beneath its cave-circle mass. She had rushed towards it from the ceiling, landing and sprinting so fast. Past a wolf. To try to sink her fangs in stone hard scales. She drew blood here as well - despite the snakes twistings.

Hazel finishes off a Werewolf - falling from the ceiling as well. Crushing the head of the crippled monster with ease. Then she is charged by another. From behind the tumor monster. With a sword dripping acid for an arm. Slashing madly, fast. So fast.

The tumor thing lets loose a stone, launching it from a hole in its body, hitting the pit entrance in an attempt to force people to the ground with a rain of stone. It doesn’t work. The monster with two incredibly long and twisted arms uses one of said arms to spit a torrent of acid - melting ally and foe alike. It kills the last of the three that were crippled by Not-Sarah’s explosive attack. It no longer has a lower body.

So it goes.
>>
No. 1042581 ID: e1b763

The fight continues on but not really for all that long. Another well placed RPG shot by Not-Sarah, Hazel knocking a Werewolf to its knees and to the ground and putting it under a flurry of blows that it couldn’t move from. Jennifer ripping through flesh and what not. A dead werewolf screamed curses, barking out threats of reinforcements.

You wonder if they really had time to raise the alarm.

The battle ends with the snake blown in two separate parts. It still bleeds. So does that ray-thing beast with two weird ass arms. Just covering the floor of this vast chamber.

The walking tumor snails its way to the tunnel in whatever approximation to fear it feels. Like a very fast snail. The tunnel.

Whatever happens is fine. The tunnel. It goes deep and the entrance rests between the two blown up parts of the now dead snake-demon. It’s dark and the walls are polished smooth. It goes forward - straight and pitch black. With no apparent curves, though the end is not in sight. Were you on the surface you’d notice that this would lead to the Mountain.

You have quite a walk ahead of you. Also, what should you do about the bodies and the tumor thing? Make sure they’re dead before trekking forth?
>>
No. 1042651 ID: e1b763

Moving. This is a very long walk. It feels almost dangerous - the floor being so smooth. The floor tilted down in such a manner. For so long! The glow from your Exaltedness does much to light the way though it does little to make the atmosphere nicer. It smells down here and the mixture of lights is not at all very pleasant.

It could be worse though.

So onward.

For, oh, about an hour? Maybe more, maybe less, depending on the pace you keep. It’s a long way to get to where you’re going, though.

Where are you going exactly? So deep inside the mountain? It grows warmer. Hot. At the end of the tunnel you see a light - a light that isn’t your own.

So there is another chamber. Not nearly as large as the other but about three times as high. In it is a rock of massive size. Unlike the other stones this one looks rough - like natural not acidy stone. It is - however - covered in chains. Rust. So very dirty. So very hot. The walls, more than just melted - but heat blasted and shiny.

Jennifer. The rock is watching you. A spirit dwells in this place and it reaches out - beseeching. Begging. The Gauntlet is so thin here, so very thin indeed. The marking on the Lunars head shining so clearly in the mirror-like surface of the acid-blasted stone chamber.

Oh how the Mountain trembles. Hear it roar so deep in the earth. The chamber - so stable - yet rocking under your feet! Who knows what the outside world detects but you just know a device somewhere is going off and freaking out some scientists.

Oh hear the Mountain roar. Begging for you to take those chains off her.

Of course, only Jennifer can understand the spirit trapped in the rock. The others just feel what basically amounts to an earthquake but underground and a sudden release of heat. Not enough to burn but damn. So hot. So startling.
>>
No. 1042944 ID: 2ffb63

>>1042651
"Alright... So, these chains feel like a bad thing. High yield explosives, cutting them up, what all do we have to try and cut these with?"

The Abyssal formerly known as Sarah would try to gently touch the rusty chains, both with the back of her hand and with a silver knife. See how it reacts to both.
>>
No. 1042945 ID: c4d4f5
File 166236163656.jpg - (160.64KB , 1060x1200 , bagginses precious.jpg )
1042945

>>1040992
The ride back out to Mount Hood wasn't bad. We were tired for it, but they were familiar roads and we weren't troubled on the way, even by the pair of wolves we'd picked up. We'd had only a few hours rest in the early hours of morning once we figured She-Wolf wasn't going to tear our eyes out, and the time between then and the afternoon we set out we filled with preparation. Sarah cracked open an old arsenal she'd set up in the days since her old attack, and started distributing weapons. Explosives being added to the mix might sound dangerous underground... and would be dangerous underground... but they are also a powerful levelling tool against the large numbers we'd been warned were hiding in the depths. Plus, if they thought we'd drop all our bombs the moment we were in trouble and collapse the tunnels, it might make them hesitate to mount a frontal assault.

We left Theodore with the She-Wolf as we left the car. Nobody trusted She-Wolf. Frankly, nobody trusted Theodore to be able to keep She-Wolf there even with a knife to her throat, but he'd at least buy us some time and discourage her from warning whoever was ahead of us that we were coming, and we were worried about being down a fighter more than we were worried about the van being stolen. Hopefully the wolf wouldn't know how to drive and Theodore would be too scared of us to try running.

The forest was quiet. Much more quiet than it had been the night before, and we noticed the change very quickly. Worse, the wind was behind us, and Theodore had told us that the wolves would be able to smell us if we weren't careful - and we hand't been careful. The discussion over it was brief, and we decided not to worry too much. We were armed and very dangerous, and so long as we didn't walk into an obvious ambush we figured we'd probably be fine. Still, with everything living but the trees having fled the forest, the way to Mount Hood was hushed, and eerie.

There was a wolf waiting for us at the pit. It didn't look so bad, especially compared to the ones from the day before. Tried wandering up to us, and as I burnt green Sarah decided she'd had enough of that and began burning black-blue. She pulled out a silver-tipped rocket launcher and blasted the thing into seventeen pieces strewn across the clearing, it's hindquarters falling down into the pitch-black pit it had been guarding. We didn't face anything more dangerous than that on the surface, though the ringing in my ears from the rocket going off barely outside of our danger range might count.

The pit was deep. We'd somewhat underestimated how deep, for all that Theodore had called it miles deep the night before. None of us had thought to bring pitons, cables, spurs, masks, nothing. The climb was bad enough for me to resort to standing on air, ready to catch in case anyone fell, and Jennifer had taken the form of a bat and quickly joined me. It felt like hours before the twisting chasm in the earth opened up into something larger, a cavern that I'd say was a hundred feet wide and absolutely bristling with angry monsters ready to tear us new assholes and about to be torn some of their own. There were a flurry of wolves along with a duo of ugly things that looked like gag monsters from a parody manga, and a giant snake encircling the room that was probably the most dangerous thing there.

>>1042581
Sarah opened things up, displaying some of that sheer strength we'd picked up the evening before by dropping some twenty feet straight down from the tunnel to the ground and hitting the biggest bunch of monsters with her launcher. They didn't take that well, and half of them staggered away more dead than not. One of them went running down the tunnel they'd clustered around and the rest charged us, and I dropped down to intercept them, while one of the gag duo - the one that looked like a wibbly-wobbly inflatable arms guy, much less funny when the arms shoot acid - shot it's nasty acid over myself and Sarah, and the other knocked rocks from the ceiling that just added to the chaos. Meanwhile, Jennifer had become a monster again, looking like the scariest thing in the room, and started chewing through the snake that'd been circling the room while it and the one wolf that wasn't in the group that got hit by the RPG ineffectually tried to stop her.

>>1042581
A second shot from the RPG went out, taking down the gag duo, before Sarah had to deal with the one unwounded wolf in melee after it went target-switching from Jennifer to her as it realised how useless trying to bite the night horror was, and between myself and Jennifer the rest of the monsters were quickly cleared up.

Well, the monsters were cleared, but the room definitely wasn't clear. Blood and guts soaked the floor, and the cave's structure had taken some damage from the high explosives let loose inside it. I spared a moment to inspect the ceiling and floor in case of a cave-in, and the spider inside me assured me that it would be fine so long as we didn't experience any huge earthquakes, big heat sources, or larger explosions while we were inside, and then we really had to go. One of the wolves had escaped down the only tunnel out of here and we weren't leaving any evil demon-breeders alive even if they did decide to turn and run.

>>1042651
Eventually, we come out into another chamber, this one centred around an out-of-place rock covered in rusty chains. It rumbles, the earth trembling about us, and burns sharply hot. "If they were a bad thing being maintained, why are they so rusty?" Hazel asks Sarah, who was about to go try cutting them open, "We should try to work out what's inside first. It could be a demon, or something, and that's why it's so hot."
>>
No. 1043127 ID: c4938e

"I mean, Mount Hood is a Volcano, so going off of how the place is rumbling it feels like the most likely thing is that it's holding back an eruption, and it's so hot because like, magma. So, I guess how should we work out if there is a demon in here? And more importantly how do we solve the problem of there being a demon if there is?

"Also, this whole place seems like it's gross and corrosive, so maybe the rust is just part of the magic that would let it stave off a volcano."
>>
No. 1043163 ID: e55cc6

>>1043127
>"I mean, Mount Hood is a Volcano, so going off of how the place is rumbling it feels like the most likely thing is that it's holding back an eruption, and it's so hot because like, magma."
I think for a moment before slowly positing a thought. "Sarah, if the chains are holding back a volcanic eruption, I think we shouldn't take them off while we're standing in the volcano."

>how do we solve the problem of there being a demon if there is?
"Throw it in a different volcano, maybe?"
>>
No. 1043659 ID: 4e340f

>>1042032
Moments ago, during the fight itself:
Jennifer launches forwards, in a sublime essence-fueled moment unfolding from small bat to large bat monster, silvery trails outlining the spaces where her wingbeats existed. She shoot’s towards the side of the cavern, ignoring the foul smoldering wolves and the goop-beast and zeroes in on the wall of scales. Around her, her friends fight and splatter wolves and unleash waves of spidery terror. She flails, unused to her war-form of a body as she collides with the beast that circles the room
Jennifer suckles lightly on a snake, literally, not metaphorically. She wanted to rip and tear, but apparently even though her monstrous form is based on a big big brown bat, the truth of vampire bats has infected her. Maybe it’s a memetic threat? Never should have actually researched bats. Never. And then the snake smashes down, coils looping. Once, swoosh and she flaps upwards, gracefully dodging. Twice, a light chomp as the snake slams itself against her teeth. And then thrice. Thrice to get bound in living scales.
Good thing a certain nameless friend has never heard of overkill. That splits the snake and frees makes things easy. Screeching out her thanks, Jennifer zeroes in on a wolf in the midst of getting held down, and launches herself away from the bloody mass of scales and corruption that used to be a snake-thing, winging in to show that werewolves aren’t the only things that can bite.
Too bad she mostly grabs a mouthful of fur. Why are they so fluffy!

Luckily the second bite is better. Much better. Much more delicious, a throbbing artery pumping out bursts of flavor. At the same time, it's a dissapointment. Jennifer feels, deep inside, that there is something missing. Not with the blood, no, but with herself. There's something missing that would let her internalize the flavor, for all of time. She can feel her soul itself yearning, seeking to grow into it's powers, and intrinsically knows that one day, she will get there. One day.

>>1042651
And then the walk. It's a long walk, but long walks aren't the worst. And while the cavernous tunnels echo with voices, Jennifer doesn't have to speak to talk. Sure, it sometimes takes a few tries, but when she sees the spirit trapped in the rock, begging to be released, her shock clearly communicates that something is there. Maybe she should actually try to speak while a beast?
Oh, it's understandable. Deep and growly in the way her human form isn't, but understandable. Like a thick accent.

"It's a spirit." She sounds wondering. It's a miracle, a bit of almost life amongst this dead world. "It's trapped." Her voice is distant, as she listens to the roars, to the pleading. "It wants to be freed." This spirit, this force of nature, it has been chained. And if there is one thing Jennifer knows, it's that she will never be chained. And neither should anything else. And there's something else she just... understands. "I can step over. To it's side. I'm not sure if I can get back."
>>
No. 1043994 ID: ae4e49
File 166341014277.jpg - (108.16KB , 680x880 , glowing button in ancient ruins time to push.jpg )
1043994

>>1043659
>"It's a spirit. It's trapped. It wants to be freed. I can step over. To it's side. I'm not sure if I can get back."
"If you think you need to help, then go for it. We'll support you from this side as best we can," Hazel says. "I don't think you're going to instantly die on the other side, at least. The world has more in store for us yet."

"Do you want us to split these chains before you go, or... actually, signal us from the other side. If you write a message addressed to me, that damn spider that crawled inside of me should be able to find it, and read it out to me."
>>
No. 1044589 ID: e1b763

Behold the maze - a thousand passageways sealed by so many doors. Yet the frames are incomplete - showing only polished stone along the edges. Yet - so many doors. Stacked together, jutting from the wall. Waiting to be pushed in. The frames, delicately built, yet so vulgar. Bone and obsidian, brass and gems, half finished carvings. Finish the project elsewhere and all these things will fall into place.

That rock is no rock at all! At the center of the chamber, so much larger here than on the other side, a being stands bound in chains. Thicker than the arms of the werebeasts you fought, twisted and covered in so many locks, steel chains. Brass Chains. Iron Chains. It reminds you of the chain that anchors a yacht, or possibly a small battleship. So many tons.

It’s bound to nothing - what would be the need with all this weight. It does not move. All of it is wrapped in chains and only vaguely human in form. But underneath…

Jennifer is here alone. Back to the otherwide - the more real one? At least, the less spiritual one.

Nothing is happening there so far. Things are pretty chill. Just waiting for Jennifer to pop back on over unharmed and without any trouble happening whatsoever. The big ass rock in the middle of the room covered in chains isn't doing anything at all.
>>
No. 1045146 ID: a1a9cd

It's the work of moments to glow from a forehead - there are some things that are instinct. And while there aren't many reflections, there is silver weapons, shiny and cleaned from when they were plunged into foul beastflesh. And while the moon, the moon is blocked by cavernous roofs and possibly clouds, the hollow circle upon her brow shines brightly in the reflections of her compatriot's weapons.

And that lets Jennifer Step. Across a barrier she was barely aware of, and then there's the being. Wrapped in Chains. "Can you hear me?" she asks of it. "I'll get you free of those" she assures it. "Let me help you" she informs it, asking no price, for some things transcend mere barterings, and for any true child of the moon, freedom is one of them. "I'll be back" she promises when her arms alone, bulging as they are with warform power, fail to rend the chains, fail to free the spirit underneath. It's a gordion knot of metal, and so Jennifer knows what to do. A quick polishing, just enough to get her reflections, and a few more moment's of concentration, and she's back in the real.

"... and that's why I need your help," she finishes her explanation. "Nothing deserves to be bound like that." You might as well just kill them. "Don't suppose any of you have a hacksaw I could borrow?"
>>
No. 1045481 ID: c8b78f

>>1045146
"I might start needing blood reasonably soon, but yeah." The Abyssal formerly known as Sarah would pull out the ghost of a hacksaw, and set to work with cutting the chains.
>>
No. 1045487 ID: e1b763

One cut link in the real world shatters so many in the spirit world. The rock wrapped in chains slowly goes free - and underneath is a woman. Emaciated - Hairless and blistered all over. Eyes sunken in. As the last chain goes she sputters in a foreign tongue before she hits the floor.

Her eyes lock onto Jennifer. They're still alive - seeing the world - blazing with a light all its own. Then - she stares past you. Looking to a place both in front of her and sideways. It makes her look cross-eyed - both horrific and comedic at the same time. Well, comedic if she wasn't a giant blister person.

She begins to chant, each word a pound a dynamite. Every syllable shattering stone. She glows. The rock in the center of the mountain glows. Like metal heated - like red coals that turned white hot. The rock in the middle of the chamber is fine but the stone around it begins to splinter and melt. Crack. Hiss. Pop. Pop. CRACK.

It seems the freed spirit intends to cleanse this place in liquid flames, the fate of her rescuers be damned. The mountain rumbles and so many people freak the fuck out, wondering just what the fuck is going to cause Mount Hood to shake. Those earthquake machines going off freak out a bunch of people.

Theodore, blood soaked silver knife in hand, stares in the direction of the mountain. He is crying.

The woman looks up as if viewing the sky - she becomes the inferno.
>>
No. 1045489 ID: 511aa2

>>1045487
Well, that is exceptionally not good. Picking up everyone that I can/is willing and will teleport as far out as I can see a lick of shadow and just start sprinting towards the exit.
>>
No. 1045712 ID: e1b763

Well, that was easy.

You're outside the hole. It's... a time. We need to figure that out. At the moment though, you are outside the hole. The ground rumbles every now and then but it's far less intimidating then when you inside the earth. Very unnatural - you might even expect a big one - but it doesn't come. Just a rumble every fifteen minuets or so, growing gradually apart.

You are very confident the the tunnel under you is now filled with lava. Or magma. Certainly, molten rock and whatever werewolves and demon things turn into when lava is applied. Or magma.

There are helicopters in the air, you gotta hope no one was hurt. You can already hear the red necks yelling "What the fuck?! Did you feel that?!" and trying to make conversation with it. That dreaded moment will come later.

Cars have stopped along the side of the road and some, well, haven't. It's late, not many cars. It's kinda hard to judge. They got some helicopters in the air pretty damn fast though, so that's cool. Clop clop clop with lights on the roads, presumably searching for any wrecked cars. Like, at least three. Look, it's good to have them in the air already if shit goes down and they haven't flown in awhile.

Getting home would not be hard and you don't really feel any more rumbles after an hour or two. That was Hazel's house, wasn't it?
>>
No. 1046081 ID: e1b763

So Hazel's house. It’s like an enchanted little cottage or something, tucked away in Portland. Nice little grape vine and a solid wooden fence. Real quaint, real private, but pretty. Vines on a lattice sorta deal. Some things bear repeating and all.

No, wait. Something about wolves. You go through the back, it’s empty. Or maybe you went through the front door, drapes already drawn, you know. Cus it’s your own house. You close the door pretty fast?

Theodore is sitting on a chair, silver knife in hand. Red with blood. The floor: the wolf girl seems to still be alive but even more wounded then when you left her. A puncture wound in her chest - that wasn’t there before. It bleeds. She still stares Theodore down, her head on the floor.

He sits on a chair. In human form - wearing a towel for a kilt. Shifting rips clothing and all. He needs pants. He is sitting on the chair, blank faced and pondering so many heavy things. Eyes so locked on the wolf girl that he almost doesn’t notice you when you all enter.

“...The fuck?”

The wolf girl looks at you all - shocked as well - but she can make no sound. Hole in chest and all. A grghgble. A silent gasp-gurgle mixed with a failed bark. Head on floor.

His hand is still on the knife - he still sits on the chair. Wearing a towel.
>>
No. 1046298 ID: 7f8334

>>1046081
"I'm pretty sure we made it clear that we would be back, so why are you so surprised?"

Sarah would go into Hazel's cleaning cabinet to look for Ammonia and a bucket, since fuck if someone bleeding wasn't going to set fast on the floor.

"Also, big question, what the fuck happened?"
>>
No. 1046308 ID: 313a74
File 166556689647.jpg - (213.90KB , 944x1200 , jovial fat sword man.jpg )
1046308

>>1046081
"Good job, Theodore," Hazel says enthusiastically, seeing the hole in wolf-girl's chest. "I'm not sure why you did that, given she's missing two limbs already, but I'm pretty sure it was a good job, other than the part where my carpet is wet and you're not wearing clothes."

She takes a moment to grumble about how long it's going to take to get the blood out, going to help Sarah. "Nice work not making me come back to dead bodies and my house on fire, at least. Were you loud? Police are slow to respond in this neighbourhood, but they'll be around soon if she was screaming."
>>
No. 1046718 ID: e1b763

The wolf man just stays oddly silent for a short time before he places the knife down on the arm of the chair. He doesn’t stand up. His voice is not exactly right - a bit broken. A bit overwhelmed? Hard to say, to be honest.

“Yes, well. She attacked me so I stabbed her before she could make any noise. It’s been awhile; we should be fine. I think I punctured her lung.”

The girl doesn’t snarl and snap verbally cus, well, hole in chest. You can feel it radiating off her all the same. She taken a great deal of damage - werewolves must be real damned resilient to still be alive after all that punishment. Missing two limbs and having hole in her lung and all.

But she is awake. Staring quite disbelievingly at you all. Her nose works, even with all that blood in her mouth. Theodore, in human shape, somehow smells it too. A stench recognizable even in trace amounts.

“You’ve been down in the Pit but you’re still alive.” The wolf man says. “I don’t understand.” And a glance at the bleeding wolf girl would tell you that she doesn’t either.
>>
No. 1046720 ID: 6377a3

>>1046718
"So, what exactly was supposed to be so scary about the Pit? It was filled with monsters, sure, but it wasn't like they were any harder to kill than the werewolves we killed when they attacked us when we weren't prepared for life and death combat. Also the whatever was going on in the spirit realm, but I didn't go there personally.

"I mean, it wasn't nice, by any measure, but everything that was once living there is dead and the entire cave system is filled with hot magma, which I mean, saves us from having to scour the entire place with cleansing flames anyway."
>>
No. 1046842 ID: 4e340f

“It’s was just a pit. It’s not like the hell portal was radioactive”.
Well, maybe spiritually it was? Jennifer’s not an expert. “And the mountain spirit was nice.” Well, Jennifer thought so. She had a soft spot for things that were trapped. Who knew? She didn’t. Not before she encountered it.

Still, Jennifer mostly ignores the two wolves fighting. Flirting? Both? Who knows how werewolves think. Finding a snack is more important. Fighting is hungry work. So is running - flying - for your life. And while this kitchen may not be hers, well there are still snacks.
>>
No. 1047020 ID: e1b763

Straight up flabbergasted. Like you were saying something he wouldn't believe had you not already killed several werewolves in front of him and said it so nonchalantly.

"Did... The Pit is filled with lava? Did they manage to send a message to anyone? To your ears it would have sounded like a wolf howl but... more."

And then.

"What do we do with her?" Theodore says, motioning to the wolf-girl. She has taken some damage for sure but is quite alive.

Neither Theodore nor the wolf-girl know much about any mountain spirit. They never really spent time down in the pit besides their initiation. Being sent inside was as much punishment as it was an honor. Rather odd and self-destructive philosophy in a way.

The very basic gist that you can get is that they've been working hard at using that spirit to open up a portal to hell. A hell. Then... what? Apparently the place was also somehow connected to other places. Spiritually.

It was a place of power, Theodore explains, sounding dead in his words. A word they use is "Moon Bridge". Although that place was so vile and tainted that it wasn't capable of really acting as one anymore.

Jennifer can remember all those fucked up doors in the spirit realm. Portals in the making? Maybe, probably.

More time. According to Theodore there are far more pits like that. Some filled with quite literal armies of demons. He hasn't seen those first hand, mind you. It's something that is known to them regardless. Rumors and whisperings and nightmares. Deep in the earth - so similar to The Pit you just came from.

He's not sure why he's telling you all this. The wolf girl can hardly make a sound.
>>
No. 1047082 ID: e1b763

Time time time.

After being given some pants Theodore helps clean up the blood. Time time time. The wolf-girl if left alive slowly heals in the corner, more animal than person. Theodore avoids her at all cost.

Time time time.

We can imagine that Not-Sarah (not anymore) will continue the hunt. To hunt where and what, though? After this whole werewolf situation there is a very clear lack of... victims? Targets? Monsters to be put to the sword?

Time time time.

Jennifer sees the world more then the others. Being able to just... go to the spirit world is pretty nice. Theodore made it clear that if he were to attempt it, or were anything to attempt stepping sideways, they would get "stuck". Not always but it's far more dangerous then what it used to be for them. Them being werewolves. Everything is just so dead - bleak - decayed - rotten. The only thing that really seems alive is the sun and moon and even they are covered with a toxic haze. It's.... boring? Dead things can't really attack you after all. It still feels so wrong though.

Time time time.

Hazel, that carpet is going to have a permanent stain. You're gonna want to do something about that along with the whole "two werewolves in my house" situation. The wolf-girl does not have good eyes and Theodore is obviously not sure what he should be doing.

The news! It talks about the earthquake. Lots of science words and finger pointing and blame being laid and theory's being made. Even though apparently no one was hurt. Certainly gave people a bit of a scare though.

Time time time.
>>
No. 1048315 ID: 4e340f

Time, time, everywhere, but not a drop to drink.

No wait, that makes no sense. Then again, neither does the spirit world, sometimes. It's all dead, but that doesn't mean it's all gone. Wrong, maybe, but not gone. And still, sometimes, communicating.

If only the haze on the moon wasn't there. No matter how high she flies, it's still there. She'll have to go higher, but that would take something more than just being a bat or batwoman. One day.

In the meantime, it's a case of wandering the spiritual equivalent to the city, looking for clues, or rather, looking for things that could be clues.

And making sure to update her friends on what she sees. Maybe working to free the spirit was a bit rash, back then. Still the right thing to do though.

And in the meantime, there's still mortal normal animals that can be hunted. Jennifer isn't up to feeding the werewolf guests. Hunting for others? No clue. But for herself? She can do that. Maybe the werewolves would have some tips. Might engage them a little. Maybe.
>>
No. 1049025 ID: e1b763

—Jennifer—

You wander the city, eating the various animals and birds and bugs. A cat? A dog? A fox? A badger? A bear? Distance doesn’t mean much to one who can fly. One truth burns deep inside - you are the Ultimate Predator. Capital letters and all. The moon smiles upon you.

Funny thing, seeing as how you can just retry going to the spirit world, it being super hard to go there unless you’re basically in space or in a really spiritual area is rather irrelevant. For you. Must really suck for everyone else though.

Helicopters in the sky, scaring away birds. So many shapes to have. Name them - those around the Portland area and reachable in a few hours by bird flight. Beetle and Bear. Crow and Cat. You commune with the spirits - remembering the lightning spirit that you saw crackling down the power-lines from before. Jittery and powerful - the electrical grid it heart and lightning its soul.

It won’t speak to you out in the open. It goes - back and forth so that you can follow but never moving slowly - to a location. As if beckoning you to follow.

—-Hazel—

First of all, let’s see what the internet has to offer when you have a spider tapping away at the keyboard from the inside. To be honest, who knows how this creepy ass spider works with all it’s clacking and those creepy ass sounds it makes. Clak clak clak with those wiggling legs that skitter about.

It does other things too - creepy shit with webs and cords. Very very orderly - but the webs inside your computer and the webs on the cords… skitter skitter skitter.

Between the both you and a healthy amount of distance though you do find out something interesting. Roll investigating+intelligence to find out.

—Not-Sarah—

Scouring the city - trying to find sources of darkness - is not as glamorous as what one may think. Sure, you can stop muggings or like… a store from being robbed. That would be trivial - but Portland is boring. People who boost stores tend to be poor themselves and many of the cops are fucking assholes. Dark times and such. You can stop murder however - just as easily as stopping robbers. It’s a depressing thing - moving from rooftop to rooftop in the cover of darkness and stopping two homeless from beating each other to death because they’ve reached a breaking point. Or some drug fiend from using a gun while robbing a store.

Maybe you saved a few poor souls from an overdose.

Oh yes, you can do all this. It’s so very easy. Darkness is your friend and no cop could chase you down. There is a major problem however. Every life you save brings dark clouds - birds gather - graveyards turn cold and the wildlife grows silent. Animals avoid you. You are changing Portland - one life saved at a time. Something in you demands to set the status quo right. To end instead of let live.

The Wolf-Girl and Theodore have something for you. Well, Theodore actually. The Wolf-Girl is proving very stubborn. He’s sniffed out the home of a few blood suckers. He’s also found a business that just reeks of blood sucker nastiness. He’s trying to find more but vampires and Portland just aren’t a huge combination. Apparently. They are very good at hiding.

Theodore stresses: They are good at hiding. There is no reason he should have been able to sniff them out in a few days. He thinks you should hang back, observe, play it safe. Not much of a beast in him, to be honest. You don’t want to be mean but coward might come to mind. ‘Course, then you’d be agreeing with the wolf-girl.
>>
No. 1049723 ID: 4e340f

Was Jennifer the kind of person who would follow a random interesting stranger down a dark alley? Maybe once upon a time the answer would have been no, a time not so long ago, a time when she couldn't tear out someone's throat. Even if this was a mass of sentient lightning. Everything has weak spots.
Some spirits were more interesting than other. Beetle was - beetle was promising. Small. Flies. An insect, which bats eat. Cat and crow likewise. Bear? Less interesting. Jennifer didn't really feel like a bear. She could, she felt, turn her thinking around, go on the right hunt, but nah. Cat would be nice though. And... she didn't want to stalk and eat someone's pet. No, that would be unduly cruel. But a wild cat? There were enough clowder's out there, and it was practically her civic duty to help out the feral pet problem. That would be a goal for later.
But now, now it was time to grab the third rail, and see what a spark could ignite. Maybe metaphorically. Maybe literally. She'd find out. The spirit would tell her.

---------------------------------------------------------------------
Not all her time was spent communing with the city. She spent time with her friends. Hazel had spiders for days, even if she devoutly refused to admit to them. That was kind of cool. Sometimes made Jennifer wonder if Hazel could turn into a swarm of them, one day. She wouldn't speak this aloud. But she would talk about what was found, even as she admitted that, well, outside of hunting spirits she really wasn't much of a hunter, despite everything. And not-Sarah, who was not-Batman, but played one on TV, well offering quiet support and promiseof backup if asked, it was only polite. And Wolf-girl was not a friend. Not yet. She could be, maybe, one day. Maybe Jennifer was too optimistic. She never smelled afraid, anyway. Not like the constant reek of anxiety from Teddy. There must be a spirit of calm somewhere. Yes. If she ever found one, she'd have to introduce it to Teddy. Long term goals. What fun things to have.
>>
No. 1050376 ID: e1b763

—Jennifer—

Such an erratic thing - moving from pole to pole unseen to the rest of the world. So you follow. An unassuming alley, it’s day-time. Somewhere, a TV goes out - scrambled and burned out and smoking. So very far away… yet still connected by the wires.

Roll for Awareness and Perception.

Like static it speaks to you - sparks flying from a hanging cable. Not a power-line but an old half-rotten telephone line. Like the buzzing of a bug - static shaped into words - it speaks to you. Voice electric and vibrating.

“The forgotten mountain is awake. The spirit - you reek of it like a bath full of roses.” A toaster pops early yet burns the bread out of jealousy. A medical device finds its batteries charged. “Death walks with you in this city that only knows decay.” A hiss of static. “The Moon is Watching You.”

Hisssss.. “Lost Mother Mountain is going to burn it all down - this rotting city. This rotten All. When she is stronger - when she travels - when she finds her fire.” Crackle.. “She was sleeping when we all failed and knows not of failure herself. Like everything - It will lead to decay. Death has gone home and been devoured - too busy and caught off guard by massive fangs.”

A delay. The rubber melts from the heat of sparkling electricity. “Luna smiles on you - she wills you to meet her. We know of a darkness here - hidden away - I have been the communication. I Am The Message and the Package. The wires speak of a werewolf nest burned cleaned - agents of the Wyrm talking and nipping at each other's heels. No one knows anything except that it is there and it is power - empty and burning though it may be. There are legal claims on the land - all through the Wires.”

White hot and sparking the lightning spirit flees. Shy and skittery. The line ruined - melted and smoking. Perhaps even drawing a few eyes - people wondering if there is a fire or not. There isn’t - but so odd that that rubber line melted. The last fuzzy words you hear are.

“The Antediluvian will be consumed - Pentex is coming.”

It doesn’t hide from you though. It’s ready to talk again, to answer questions. Quite a bit of walking will be involved though - apparently shit melts and catches fire when this thing starts talking so it kinda needs to chat in… safe locations where that doesn’t draw too many eyes.

People freak out when they see smoke in Oregon - with good reason.
>>
No. 1052408 ID: 44d0ba
File 167172184093.jpg - (6.89MB , 4093x2894 , stains of time.jpg )
1052408

>>1049025
>you have a spider tapping away at the keyboard from the inside
>Very very orderly - but the webs inside your computer and the webs on the cords… skitter skitter skitter
>skitter skitter skitter
Nope nope nope nope nope nope nope.

Hazel was having none of that. An improvised exorcism involving a circle drawn in blood and some midnight chanting only seemed to encourage the thing, and eventually the young prophet was forced to give the computer up as a bad job. She'd done a quick search of the area before the evil spirit began infesting her computer, so she had some places to start looking the next day, at least.

Sleeping that night was not fun. Jennifer and Sarah had gone home, leaving Hazel with Theodore and Jennifer. They were quiet, mostly, but they both talked about the house still smelling of blood for days after and it psyched her out enough that she was smelling it too.

The next day saw her making two discoveries in the early morning. The first was that the duo of werewolves had settled in to stay, and they had decided this based on nobody else living in the house once Sarah and Jennifer had left. They'd forgotten Hazel overnight, and wasn't that something to look into? Super-forgetfulness powers. The second thing she noticed when she was looking in the mirror, and was probably even worse than the logical nightmare of everybody forgetting her had been. Hazel's hazel eyes had turned green, with little specks of light flecked through the black of her iris. She had actual sparkly eyes, making her a laughingstock in any reasonable culture, and she couldn't even laugh about her eyes matching her name anymore!

It was awful.

With three horrors resting in the house she decided to get out quick, heading out just as the business people started to head out for the standard humdrum morning rush, sticking out like a sore thumb among the actual professionals between her tiny little motor-scooter and cardigan against their suits and ties and black expressions that left Hazel feeling like death warmed over just sharing a sidewalk with them.

As could be expected of a crowd like that, everybody ignored her.

She wasn't headed in the same direction, anyway, going towards another close-by suburb to follow up on those hits she'd had yesterday. She'd been looking for missing cases and seen an upswing in a local neighborhood here in Oregon, ever-so-significantly higher class than where she lived and with little to show for it beyond a tendency towards family plan homes and better-tended gardens. She followed the threads for a while, peering into windows and taking notes with a notepad she'd brought along, and it wasn't long before she'd found something that looked... well, if she had a conspiracy board, this is where all the red string would be linked to.

Something was hiding in there, and through the day Hazel found Theodore finding her on his own initiative to confirm it. Ghouls all around it - humans like them, but given strength by a vampire's blood in return for slavish loyalty, to hear Theodore say it - and something dark hiding within, they could agree on that. It was spreading, too. They would have to bring it to light, before it could grow too far for them to pull out at all. Eventually, the sun started to drop over the horizon, and the pair packed up and headed home, Theodore seeming quite surprised that it was the same place for them both. Another check in the box for people forgetting about her. Jennifer recognized her, and Sarah - she could think the name in the privacy of her own mind, surely? - picked up the phone when Hazel called, and both were more than happy to be backup for a plan Hazel had brewing the next day.

She called it: Advanced Critical Cover LARPing Incidentally Mashing Enemies Decisively. The ACCLAIMED Plan was simple, and summed up came down to Hazel sneaking in while pretending to be a ghoul to get a look at what was going on inside. The disguise would be simple, the neighborhood wasn't that uptown and the ghouls would probably be trying to look local. It was mostly in the way they walked, and looked at each other. She'd take some of the C4 they hadn't used in the mines, and plant it around the building, and if all went well a controlled demolition would solve all their problems. If things went less well, Sarah and Jennifer would be close by, ready to intervene.

So it was that the next day, doing her best to seem like a ghoul that was supposed to be there named Fletcher, Hazel found herself trying the front door to see how tough an entry would really be. Her old flip-phone was at the ready with a code red text set to go at the push of a button, and she had her bookbag slung over her shoulder to rest by her side, C4 hidden within.

No pressure. Go.
>>
No. 1052513 ID: e1b763

>>The first was that the duo of werewolves had settled in to stay, and they had decided this based on nobody else living in the house once Sarah and Jennifer had left. They'd forgotten Hazel overnight, and wasn't that something to look into?

The werewolves staying does pose a bit of a dilemma. They haven’t forgotten the details of what happened to them - that’s certain. The fight, the fact that you came back from a place that should have killed you, the fact that they’re missing limbs.

That they’re in the house of a creature much more powerful than them.

Your NAME though. That does seem to elude them. Whether or not that’s just because it’s never been said in their presence or because it slipped away from them during a nights rest (And be assured, the wolves did sleep. Practically passed out. Or in the Wolf-Girls case… actually passed out.

Theodore is still in his human shape, wearing your clothes. Or whatever he could find here. Didn’t even ask. Didn’t even occur to him to ask. He’s lived as a monster for awhile.

The wolf-girl is still a wolf. Massive and angry but nursing her wounds. She takes up most of the room she’s in, like a full grown pit-bull five times too massive.

>>Jennifer recognized her, and Sarah - she could think the name in the privacy of her own mind, surely? - picked up the phone when Hazel called, and both were more than happy to be backup for a plan Hazel had brewing the next day.

And indeed your friends remember your name. And Sarah’s name, or lost name, or whatever weird fuckery is going on with that does seem to be safe within your own thoughts. That’s a curiosity. Would writing her name down create the same reaction as speaking it? That’s an honest question - the universe is unsure. At the moment, at least.


>>The ACCLAIMED Plan

Hazel the Ghoul has no trouble finding the perfect time to sneak into the house. Well, sneak in. That’s not really the right term for someone that fate has said belongs there, is it? Such oddness.

You are one of the ghouls that goes inside the house. It is a classy home, well cleaned and taken care of. If you were to guess the number of ghouls that enter this home each month, well. It’d be a group of three or four, posing as visitors and family. Twice a month, sometimes three.

Neighbors for a simple get together! They just leave with less blood than they came with. Family coming over for a monthly visit. Except, yes, not family. Just ghouls. Blending into this mass of fifteen or so rotating people isn’t all that hard.
Two vampires - A tall fellow and a short fellow. They talk for a bit, making pleasantries and offering muffins and tea. While one is serving, the other moves a carpet to show a hidden door. He climbs down, after pulling it open (so heavy!), and hits a switch. Light comes out the hole as one of the vampire hosts gets around to Hazel.

You get a glass of tea and a muffin as well. The ghouls make light chat about what they’re been doing. One of the two vampires addresses the group - the short one.

“Everyone is well hydrated and had something to eat I hope?” A rather mono-tone voice asks. A response of yeah and ‘thanks for the tea’.

Someone is chosen and led down the hole in the floor. Not far at all - you can even hear them talking. Something about using a smaller needle this time. The guests look a bit on edge - something rough. Focused. Hungry.

The shorter vampire goes to the kitchen to grab a small glass cup. He begins to set them up, as well as bringing in wine and various other drinks. Well, tea and lemonade. None of that soda crap.

The ghouls can’t help but lick their lips as the short man cuts his palm and slowly begins to drip drop after drop of that crimson fluid into their glasses. Your glass as well, actually.

The first ghoul leaves the hole, his arm bandaged. The short man hands him a glass filled with what amounts to a small shot of blood and drinks it down. Then - he takes the wine and fills the glass before taking a seat. Right next to Hazel.

He looks high as shit.

Another Ghoul enters the hole…
>>
No. 1052942 ID: 7ac926
File 167242306112.jpg - (106.86KB , 1920x1080 , cozy rain on the window.jpg )
1052942

>>1052513
>Tell tale magic signs. Under the paint on the walls: some arcane symbols. You can’t decipher their meaning but they don’t seem to be working right. The barest of ripples, cracks in the runes, a staining of color only seen to a supernatural eye. They’re… broken?
>Ahh, then. Something fresher. Written in blood - something fresh and still smelling of iron. Where is that coming from? Up? Ahhh, a ceiling fan. Something written on the rotating blades - you can’t see it but the smell - that charge of magic that can’t be described with that metallic smell. Come on. That fan is up to something.
>Not to mention that rush of life and vitality that pours out of that hole in the ground. Who knows how much blood is stored down there - but something magical is also going on.
>Your turn is coming up pretty soon.
Time to get out, Hazel thinks, and slips out of her chair. She mumbles something indistinct about the toilet to the muddled ghoul besides her as she goes walking out of the living room, and slips off her role as she leaves the room. Undisguised but hopefully clad in her forgettable aura, Heather paces a careful round through the house while avoiding the eyes and ears of the two vampires. Despite the friendly atmosphere and daylight shining outside, it seemed they were on fair alert in the darkness as ghoul after ghoul went down the pit and Hazel made her way outside, back to where Jennifer and Sarah waited.

"Two vampires inside. Looks like the ghouls are here to get a fix of vampire blood, and being milked of their own in return," Hazel relays to her friends, "I can't believe I have to say this to the both of you, but I wouldn't recommend drinking vampire blood. It looks addictive, and they were getting high on it, and both of you seem more likely to bite than you did a few days ago. Don't chomp the vampires, especially if they taste good."

"There's some magic hidden in there too. Wards on the walls, but they look broken, and some kind of air spritzer on the ceiling fan of their main room."

"The ghouls seem to be victims more than anything, here. I'm pretty sure they'll disperse eventually, as well. We should wait for that, then go in for the vampires. It's another stakeout, ladies."

Time progresses like that, for a while. Three friends spending hours on end in the back of a car Hazel is still not sure is entirely clear of spiders, watching a suburban house and talking about what more they've managed to find out about their new powers in the days since they turned the werewolves' hunt around. Eventually that trickles off too, and they talk about what's been happening in their lifes instead... but there's been so little time, things are still shifting. People are forgetting Hazel, for one, and she hasn't spoken to her family yet out of fear of what that might mean. Sarah felt uncomfortable out in the light and had been shadowing the town at night. Jennifer had met a spirit the day before, and was still dealing with a lot of strange instincts, eating the wildlife, that she wanted to move past before settling back into her life.

Then that trickled off, too, as night started falling, and Hazel started asking her spider questions for lack of better things to do. It gave her the names, addresses, and family contacts of the people she'd met earlier in the day, but couldn't answer when she asked for the full roster of these twin vampire's pasties. That was a secret according to the spider, and while Hazel flinched every time it said something sinister like that - or said anything at all, really - that word sounded meaningful. The spider confirmed it moments later; it would not reveal a secret, one hidden by act or by the world.

Out of morbid curiosity, she asked what the ghoul's social situation was like, one by one. Family disconnect, financial ruin, desperate for connection, an escape from domestic abuse... none of it was pretty, and it was despicable that the vampires were taking advantage of people like that. Asking what the neighborhood's people thought of the ghoul group and the two vampires, and apparently they just thought they were family and friends who visit often. The two vampires were well liked but kept to themselves as night owls who didn't normally take visitors in the day, except for family. Their play on their victims was long-term, and the manipulation was becoming more and more obvious the more Hazel asked.

"The ghouls should start leaving around now," Hazel says to her compatriots at about nine oclock. "That's the regular time. Only an hour or so to go, and hopefully they'll have cleared out. Sorry, if asking the spider questions like that bothered you. Keep an eye out in case the vampires decide to go walkabout with the night. We should start preparing, too. I can set the charges outside no problem, as they don't seem to have a lookout."
>>
No. 1054616 ID: e1b763

>>1052942
How does one go about assaulting a house in the middle of Oregon? Well - first you’re waiting for the people to leave the house. Which happens, the ghouls headed out as a group. Saying goodbyes and fare-wells. To be back to visit on another day not too far away. After a while they’ll spend the night doing whatever it is vampires do. Do vampires sleep? Yes, they do, during the day normally.

It’s late and the lights are out - it’s quite in the neighborhood. Heavy curtains block the windows to their house. Their house door is closed, same with the back door. It comes to your attention that they don’t seem to have a security system, which is nice. No alarms to deal with.

You remember the fan that smelled of magic and blood. And a wandering thought to whatever magic is behind the paint on the walls. The basement…

It comes to mind that eventually you’re going to have to go inside and do something.
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