Survival 101 - The Newspaper - Part 3 (Sid)
March 18th 2006
Blog Entry 11
"All in!", a man in a casino five minutes north of Bolder said as he pushed the chips on the green carpet.
In fact, it was the fifth time in a row that he bet all his fortune at the table, and people were gathering. The clerk behind the table and the roulette was beginning to show impatience, his left brow twitching uneasily. But the man putting his life savings at stake seemed to take no notice, smiling broadly up at the clerk and the ladies around him. Because this man, who called himself Sid, liked the attention he was getting, probably just as much as the feeling of putting all he had at risk... and winning it right back.
The problem was not that he lost. The problem was the he never lost. When he did, it was because he had asked Lady Fate to take it easy at the beginning of the night so not to arise suspicions on himself. Half way through the night though, he would usually lose himself to the winning sensation, and by then, security would have their eye on him, until they got tired of seeing him take the casino's money. They never had any proof of him cheating, but it was best not to take any chances.
And it was about to happen again. Two men in black walked into the crowd and put a hand on each of Sid's shoulders, asking him to follow them to the exits. Sometimes he argued he wanted to finish his betting, sometimes he didn't. This time he did, but it did not last very long as he was escorted back to the parking lot.
He walked back to his car with his head still up high as if nothing had happened. Then again, he was used to it by now. It was almost like a game. He was about to unlock the door of his car when he saw some unwanted scratch on the paint above the driver's door. He thought them to be made by a key at first. People sometimes got offended when they lost their bets, even more to someone who never lost. But these marks looked like they could have been made by a whole set of keys at this point. He looked up when he heard a high pitched squeal, and soon, noticed a shadow circling above him and his vehicle. He did not have to look twice to know who the hawk belonged to, though not too amused with the marks it had made on his car in order to get noticed. The crying of the bird alone would have been enough. Perhaps its owner had thought it to be funny to break the paint right off the metal... In the end, Sid somewhat shrugged it off. He could fix it, or pay to get it fixed. He was not short of money.
And if he were, he could always win the lottery.
-----------
Back in Boulder, the group of Urathas and the Mage stood by the side of the road in front of Mike's home.
Leaf smiled with triumph at the pack and the woman, "She's found him. He's on his way right now."
"How long?", Ryan repeated himself. Time was wasting away, and the more it went, the more he feared for the very worst.
"Thirty minutes... Maybe forty-five at most, depending on the traffic."
Ryan nodded silently, contented but not happy with more minutes wasted away at staring at an empty house and the grey sky.
Somewhere within the pack of Urathas, the question was risen as to how Elation, the hawk they had seen, could be of any possible help. Animals were not stupid, but they had little time to waste with humans, mages, or Urathas, unless extremely well trained. And if she was, well, here came the fantasy story again. The story of the Hermit and its highly intelligent bird who only answered to its master. So Leaf explained it was a spirit host who answered to him, and with which he could communicate telepathically. Better yet, if need be, he could see through the animal's eyes, which he had done to find his friend.
Damien and Miguel seemed to send a glare toward the mage, before showing a cornered smile. It was like looking at two brothers who looked completely like the opposite of each other, only their mannerism was so similar it was comical. A Uratha's primary job was to keep the balance between the Spirit World and this very world. Elation was an exception that would need to be sent back, apparently.
Leaf stood surprised by the ignorance showing on the pack of wolves in human skins. Were they not aware spirits could possess living beings? Well, they probably did, but not like Elation. Ah! What inferior beasts Urathas were! Could they not see such things at all? And when they did, they wanted to destroy it. It only proved his point furthermore. When Damien's voice rose dangerously, his words were cut right off by a spell sealing his lips tightly together. His eyes gleamed with such ferocious rage that even Alice and Ryan stood back. Not that the comments being made did not affect them, but it was clear, from the smile on Leaf's face that the Mage was only playing games.
Where Urathas were not aware of everything Mages could see, this one was unaware of the dangerous situation he was into. Only when Miguel joined in with Damien that his smile, as well as the humor in his eyes, vanished completely into worry and understanding.
Leaf had lived in the woods most of his life. Humans, Urathas, Mages... it mattered little. A little teasing had never hurt, but this one had pushed the wrong buttons, and now he came to realize it. With Damien and Miguel's eyes blaring and their bodies in a stance of fighting, he found himself stepping back and raising his hands defensively, soon glancing past them at the woman and the pack's alpha for help. It never came. Maybe Ryan shrugged him off as he usually would - let the smart mouth get out of this one on his own, he sure deserved it. Alice showed little care for what happened to the native american. She didn't care, or was too busy concealing the pain below her left breast that had struck again...
Leaf made a quick motion in the air as if trying to catch the wind, letting Damien's lips go free for him to speak, then hurried to sit down cross legged, chanting something in another language while he made quick circles in the grass with a bone. Meanwhile, Damien and Miguel raged for him to stand and care to repeat what he had said, dare challenge their class again. But before they could do anything at all, a soft light surrounded Leaf. It circled him, then shaped his body into that of a canine, until it looked like an identical replica of a wolf. The beast stood on four legs, walked up to Miguel, then licked his right hand in a friendly way.
Miguel's glare turned deadly for a moment, the pupils of his eyes dilating dangerously... then back to a smaller, more natural black circle. He rose his left hand where the newspaper had been rolled up, and struck it down on the wolf's head, "Don't you dare do anything like that again!", he spat, but his features had already relaxed and seemed a little more friendly.
The wolf yelped, but not in pain as much as surprise, then the body shaped itself back into that of a human. Leaf bowed his head before both Damien and Miguel especially, as they had been the one who had seemed to be the most affected by his comments, "I apologize. I meant nothing of it, really. It won't happen again."
"It better not", Damien replied dryly, but his features had also relaxed.
More words could have been exchanged, but a flapping sound startled them before it could be done. Elation landed on Leaf's shoulder, perching herself comfortably. Then there was the roar of a warm engine coming from the north. A car pulled over into the driveway slowly, coming to a complete halt about three feet from Ryan and Alice. It looked expensive, scarlet red, and would have probably glistened nicely had the sun been out on that day.
A man stood out, closed the door, and smiled at the group, or more precisely, at the friend who had called him to this place. Leaf returned the grin, gripping his good old friend's hand into a long time no see shake. When he glanced back at the small crowd pending introduction, he smiled once more, and introduced himself as Sid. That smile could have made the hearts melt, it was clear. He wore a white, long sleeved shirt that showed little to no ruffles on it, but was not tucked into his black pants. His brown hair was not quite neatly combed, standing up, but it was in no way close to Miguel's messy hairstyle. That smile, the cockiness of his posture, showed he knew he looked good, and he knew he could get away with a lot because of those looks. Alice returned a similar, lust filled smile, while the men seemed to either snort in jealousy or seemed to care little.
Leaf briefly explained the situation to his friend, handing him the cursed newspaper. Sid looked through it quickly, stopping at the obituaries, just as the Urathas had. Only his gaze did not go blank, nor did his eyeballs go white under the eyelids. Instead, he nodded his understanding, pointing at the paper, "It's a hidden mark for a Cabal", he explained more to Leaf then to the others.
"A Cabal?", one of the Urathas repeated.
"A group of mages", Sid let them know, which, it seemed was like a pack of Urathas.
"The name on it shows Awakened Sight. I heard of them before, but never found myself having to deal with them. I think they're supposed to be residing somewhere in the woods North West of Boulder. At least, that's what I heard."
So it had been a hidden sign. Well, they were not about to sit back and wait for another one. Already, as Sid departed after another warm smile and bidding farewell to them and Leaf, Ryan lead them to the woods where they would find Awakened Sight in hopes to get more answers.
To be continued....
Monday, May 22, 2006
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Survival 101 - (Joseph Stanley and Leaf)
Survival 101 - Joseph Stanley and Leaf
March 18th 2006
Blog Entry 10
The funerals had just ended when the SUV parked by the cemetery. They were moving the coffin down into the earth at that very moment. A small crowd of people surrounded the hole, crying, whimpering, asking how and why poor Joseph Stanley had to leave them so soon.
Miguel zipped his trench coat up to his neck and hid his hands in his pockets. Ryan did the same, closing his green coat and tucking the jersey shirt into his blue jeans. Alice's tears came as she wished, sobbing while holding onto Damien's arm. It took a while, less then an hour at least, until anyone had departed from the hole. The machines used to lower the coffin were still there, but the operators had probably taken a break or were just waiting for the rest of them to leave before finishing their job, because they were nowhere in sight.
Only now that they had found Stanley, there was not much they could do, or any information they could gain. Re-opening the coffin could have been an option, but one they did not want to consider yet. So they stared down at the closed lid, with its flowers and the family pictures that had been thrown. The coffin did not look like it had been very expensive.
They were about to turn on their heals when a new figure appeared at the other end of the cemetery. Through the tombstones, a man in his late forties seemed to be coming straight out of the wooden area surrounding them. His skin was tanned as the native American he was, his clothes torn and ragged over his shoulders. His hair, white, had been put into a pony tail. His face was serious, with a few red and green marks on them. The more he approached, the more he seemed like an hermit character out of a fantasy story.
He looked at them gravely, then down at the hole sadly, pinching his lips together and sighing heavily. Lowering himself, he picked up a dry flower, and as he looked at it, unbelievingly, its petals gained a bright blue color, opening up and back to life, its small leaves going from grey to green again like opening arms. The pack and Alice looked at each other with both amazement and surprise, looking at the man tossing the flower down with the rest of them, before turning on his heals and heading back the way he came from.
Alice moved forward, kneeling by the hole and taking a hold of the flower. It felt humid, alive, between her fingers. She inspected it carefully, standing back up as she did so. The flower really was alive again. With a smile, she decided she really liked that flower too. It was special, definitely held something now - whatever it was.
"Put it back", the man said, his very first words to the Urathas, "it doesn't belong to you."
She rose an eyebrow, about to argue with him, but thought better of it, letting it fall back into the hole with a sour smile. Once the hermit was satisfied, he turned back toward the forest to walk away, but it was Miguel who interrupted him, asking him who he was, if he knew Stanley at all. He confirmed he did, indeed, know Stanley, and finally asked them what their business was with him. When Ryan let him know that Stanley may have had information about their missing friend, the hermit seemed interested.
"You're not normal humans", he said then.
The group confirmed being Urathas... and the man, in return, introduced himself a Leaf, a rogue mage.
Of course, the flower trick had confirmed that, as if Leaf had intentionally decided to show his abilities in order to see the reactions of the strangers, which had been fascination, yes, but there had been no fear, per say. Normal humans would have asked a thousand questions, would have wanted to follow him back into the forest, would have wanted to try and learn the trick. This group of people had not shown any of these signs. Instead, they had analyzed, and realized long before they found out his name that he was not a regular human.
Ryan explained the situation to Leaf, from Mike's disappearance to the newspaper ordeal, which seemed to accentuate his curiosity that much more.
"Stanley would be the last person to use violence as a means of attack", Leaf confirmed. With this, he requested to be taken back to Mike's house so he could see signs the Urathas may have missed. Ryan accepted, much to the silent protests of his pack against carrying a mage with them.
Once they arrived at Mike's home, it only took Leaf a moment to confirm that, indeed, it had been the work of Mages, yes. But there was little traces left of anything. If he could see the newspaper in order to see what could cause Urathas to lose their memories of reading the section of the obituary, it would have been of great help. Miguel let them know he could get a copy, but they would need to wait for a while. It took about fifteen minutes before the Irraka returned from a neighbor's home with the said paper.
Leaf opened it, looked it up, found the section, and confirmed, "There is a seal here, I'm guessing this is what's been fizzling at your memories. But I can't read it... even less disactivate it." There was a moment of silence, followed by defeated groans from the group of Urathas, which was interrupted by the hermit, "but I have a friend who might be able to help with that, if you'd just let me find him."
"How long?", Ryan asked.
"It'll depend on how long it'll take Elation to find him", he let the alpha know. Questions rose as to what the name was about, but when Leaf looked up at the sky and the bird going in circles there, it became obvious he was speaking about his pet. There were no physical words exchanged, but once the bird flew into a random direction, Leaf glanced back at the pack, "She'll find him for us."
To be continued...
March 18th 2006
Blog Entry 10
The funerals had just ended when the SUV parked by the cemetery. They were moving the coffin down into the earth at that very moment. A small crowd of people surrounded the hole, crying, whimpering, asking how and why poor Joseph Stanley had to leave them so soon.
Miguel zipped his trench coat up to his neck and hid his hands in his pockets. Ryan did the same, closing his green coat and tucking the jersey shirt into his blue jeans. Alice's tears came as she wished, sobbing while holding onto Damien's arm. It took a while, less then an hour at least, until anyone had departed from the hole. The machines used to lower the coffin were still there, but the operators had probably taken a break or were just waiting for the rest of them to leave before finishing their job, because they were nowhere in sight.
Only now that they had found Stanley, there was not much they could do, or any information they could gain. Re-opening the coffin could have been an option, but one they did not want to consider yet. So they stared down at the closed lid, with its flowers and the family pictures that had been thrown. The coffin did not look like it had been very expensive.
They were about to turn on their heals when a new figure appeared at the other end of the cemetery. Through the tombstones, a man in his late forties seemed to be coming straight out of the wooden area surrounding them. His skin was tanned as the native American he was, his clothes torn and ragged over his shoulders. His hair, white, had been put into a pony tail. His face was serious, with a few red and green marks on them. The more he approached, the more he seemed like an hermit character out of a fantasy story.
He looked at them gravely, then down at the hole sadly, pinching his lips together and sighing heavily. Lowering himself, he picked up a dry flower, and as he looked at it, unbelievingly, its petals gained a bright blue color, opening up and back to life, its small leaves going from grey to green again like opening arms. The pack and Alice looked at each other with both amazement and surprise, looking at the man tossing the flower down with the rest of them, before turning on his heals and heading back the way he came from.
Alice moved forward, kneeling by the hole and taking a hold of the flower. It felt humid, alive, between her fingers. She inspected it carefully, standing back up as she did so. The flower really was alive again. With a smile, she decided she really liked that flower too. It was special, definitely held something now - whatever it was.
"Put it back", the man said, his very first words to the Urathas, "it doesn't belong to you."
She rose an eyebrow, about to argue with him, but thought better of it, letting it fall back into the hole with a sour smile. Once the hermit was satisfied, he turned back toward the forest to walk away, but it was Miguel who interrupted him, asking him who he was, if he knew Stanley at all. He confirmed he did, indeed, know Stanley, and finally asked them what their business was with him. When Ryan let him know that Stanley may have had information about their missing friend, the hermit seemed interested.
"You're not normal humans", he said then.
The group confirmed being Urathas... and the man, in return, introduced himself a Leaf, a rogue mage.
Of course, the flower trick had confirmed that, as if Leaf had intentionally decided to show his abilities in order to see the reactions of the strangers, which had been fascination, yes, but there had been no fear, per say. Normal humans would have asked a thousand questions, would have wanted to follow him back into the forest, would have wanted to try and learn the trick. This group of people had not shown any of these signs. Instead, they had analyzed, and realized long before they found out his name that he was not a regular human.
Ryan explained the situation to Leaf, from Mike's disappearance to the newspaper ordeal, which seemed to accentuate his curiosity that much more.
"Stanley would be the last person to use violence as a means of attack", Leaf confirmed. With this, he requested to be taken back to Mike's house so he could see signs the Urathas may have missed. Ryan accepted, much to the silent protests of his pack against carrying a mage with them.
Once they arrived at Mike's home, it only took Leaf a moment to confirm that, indeed, it had been the work of Mages, yes. But there was little traces left of anything. If he could see the newspaper in order to see what could cause Urathas to lose their memories of reading the section of the obituary, it would have been of great help. Miguel let them know he could get a copy, but they would need to wait for a while. It took about fifteen minutes before the Irraka returned from a neighbor's home with the said paper.
Leaf opened it, looked it up, found the section, and confirmed, "There is a seal here, I'm guessing this is what's been fizzling at your memories. But I can't read it... even less disactivate it." There was a moment of silence, followed by defeated groans from the group of Urathas, which was interrupted by the hermit, "but I have a friend who might be able to help with that, if you'd just let me find him."
"How long?", Ryan asked.
"It'll depend on how long it'll take Elation to find him", he let the alpha know. Questions rose as to what the name was about, but when Leaf looked up at the sky and the bird going in circles there, it became obvious he was speaking about his pet. There were no physical words exchanged, but once the bird flew into a random direction, Leaf glanced back at the pack, "She'll find him for us."
To be continued...
Survival 101 - (The Newspaper Part 2 (The Librarian))
Survival 101 - The Newspaper Part 2 (The Librarian)
March 18th 2006
Blog Entry 9
The library was just as big as it looked from the outside, with three floors, all opened to see them from the entrance. There was a red, ruby carpet that started from the doors to stairs that snaked their way up to the second, then the third floor. There were probably other stairs elsewhere, and most likely an elevator or two, but Damien did not find them on his first look. As libraries went, it was not as quiet as one would imagine: there were plenty of whispers, college girls giggling in their corner, either talking about homework or the boy next door. Damien could also hear children laughing loudly from somewhere deep on the first, maybe second floor, most likely reading funny books like Charlie the Choo-Choo, or a Garfield comic book.
Damien stepped up to the round counter where a woman... or a man, frankly, he could not be sure, was deep in her/his paperwork. If it was a woman, she was dressed so heavily the lumps of her breasts did not show, and her hair was cut in a bowl like shape around her ears. Her features were between that of an unfortunate man... or an unfortunate woman. There was no make-up to prove it could have been a female at all, and the way he/she moved were not significant of either gender. Even when she - he decided it was a she for the moment, especially with that disturbing non gender voice that followed - raised her head to look at him and smiled, no features betrayed a side of the gender more then the other.
"Yes, yes, can I help you?", she said with the strangest accent Damien had ever heard. It sounded a mix of sophisticated rubbish, with a Indian/Muslim accent. Now, not only could he not tell the gender of the person, but finding out the origins was just as impossible.
He let her know he was looking for the newspaper archives. She nodded, pointing him in the right direction, but he insisted she followed him there, saying he was no good with these machines, that he had never used them before. In a sense, it was not all false. He had never needed to look at news archives before. So she followed him there, and sat by the projector for him, running her long, mishapped fingers along the keyboard. Damien let her know of the day, and the newspaper he needed, and she found it quickly for him. Once done, she was about to leave, raising from the seat again, but Damien stopped her.
"Wait! I'm not too sure still... How do I find the obituaries...?"
"Oh! That's very simple, yes yes!", she said, sitting back down and flipping through the paper until she would get to the part. Damien did not look at the screen starting from then, fearing he would read the part by mistake and forget all about what he had to do. When she was showing signs of wanting to leave again, he brought his large hand down on the back of the chair, leaning down and pocking his finger at the screen.
"Wait up!", he told her, "I still need your help for a bit. Do you think you could print this for me?"
But she shook her head, saying there were no printers for these files for copyright issues. Damien nodded his understanding, but asked her if she minded writing down the information on the screen. Of course, it struck her as odd, and said that he could do it on his own. Damien shook his head, pointing at the screen again. He needed this information. Someone he knew passed away, and he needed the information to go to the funerals, which made sense. But when she asked him what the name of the person was, he stalled for a moment, then said that it was a long lost friend of a family member, and that he did not know his last name, so he needed to make some research. Of course, the librarian agreed, understood, but suggested he came back with said family member to look it up.
Now Damien was starting to lose his patience. How hard was it to write down a name and an address? There were about four pages of names, yes, but at least half of them were "in remembrance of the death of" that dated back to years ago. It was getting confusing and hard. That woman, if it was a woman at all, was starting to get on his nerves, asking too many questions.
Eventually, he shook his head with impatience, "I can't read. It's not something I want people to know, even less my family."
"Oh... oh I see, yes yes... Um... well... um...", she reached for a piece of paper and a pencil, "Well um.... okay, here, give me a moment..."
Damien nodded and thanked her. He had guessed it would have come down to this, but he had nearly messed up as well. After about ten minutes, the librarian handed him the piece of paper, smiling at him. She looked a little more like a woman now, but he still could not be sure. She escorted him back to the door, still smiling, and Damien had a hunch it meant he had just made a new friend. She had made her good deed of the day by helping someone they way she had after all. He owed her, that was for sure. When he reached back into his pocket and handed her a piece of paper with his cell phone number scribbled on it, she took it questioningly. He let her know that she had been of great help, and if she needed anything, to give him a call.
She even opened the door for him, waving at him when he left. If she had realized that Damien had just given her a written note, she may not have been this happy. Then again, there were illiterate people who understood numbers and how to write them, compared to writing words, and that's probably what she would tell herself in the end.
"Made a new friend?", Alice smirked, looking at the genderless being waving at Damien before going back inside the large building.
Damien made no reply to this, but handed over the list for Ryan to see. But all he could see was a bunch of names with funeral dates. It meant nothing, and did not give any clues as to what could have had Ryan, Alice and Miguel forget about reading the obituaries, nor did not give anything about Miguel going into Death Rage for no apparent reason. It seemed they were still at a dead end. They were about to give up when Miguel, who had remained quiet all this time, looked at the woman, "Hey Alice... if I say Stan... what do you think about?"
"Ley...", the word came casually, quickly, automatically.
Miguel snapped his fingers, "That's it! Stanley! Whenever I think about the paper... that's what comes to mind, Stan.. and Ley. Stanley!"
Ryan nodded, then looked over the list again with Damien, his finder tracing down the names.
"There is a Joseph Stanley in there...", Ryan said, confirming it was the only Stanley in the list, "... and according to this, the funerals are happening as we speak."
To be continued...
March 18th 2006
Blog Entry 9
The library was just as big as it looked from the outside, with three floors, all opened to see them from the entrance. There was a red, ruby carpet that started from the doors to stairs that snaked their way up to the second, then the third floor. There were probably other stairs elsewhere, and most likely an elevator or two, but Damien did not find them on his first look. As libraries went, it was not as quiet as one would imagine: there were plenty of whispers, college girls giggling in their corner, either talking about homework or the boy next door. Damien could also hear children laughing loudly from somewhere deep on the first, maybe second floor, most likely reading funny books like Charlie the Choo-Choo, or a Garfield comic book.
Damien stepped up to the round counter where a woman... or a man, frankly, he could not be sure, was deep in her/his paperwork. If it was a woman, she was dressed so heavily the lumps of her breasts did not show, and her hair was cut in a bowl like shape around her ears. Her features were between that of an unfortunate man... or an unfortunate woman. There was no make-up to prove it could have been a female at all, and the way he/she moved were not significant of either gender. Even when she - he decided it was a she for the moment, especially with that disturbing non gender voice that followed - raised her head to look at him and smiled, no features betrayed a side of the gender more then the other.
"Yes, yes, can I help you?", she said with the strangest accent Damien had ever heard. It sounded a mix of sophisticated rubbish, with a Indian/Muslim accent. Now, not only could he not tell the gender of the person, but finding out the origins was just as impossible.
He let her know he was looking for the newspaper archives. She nodded, pointing him in the right direction, but he insisted she followed him there, saying he was no good with these machines, that he had never used them before. In a sense, it was not all false. He had never needed to look at news archives before. So she followed him there, and sat by the projector for him, running her long, mishapped fingers along the keyboard. Damien let her know of the day, and the newspaper he needed, and she found it quickly for him. Once done, she was about to leave, raising from the seat again, but Damien stopped her.
"Wait! I'm not too sure still... How do I find the obituaries...?"
"Oh! That's very simple, yes yes!", she said, sitting back down and flipping through the paper until she would get to the part. Damien did not look at the screen starting from then, fearing he would read the part by mistake and forget all about what he had to do. When she was showing signs of wanting to leave again, he brought his large hand down on the back of the chair, leaning down and pocking his finger at the screen.
"Wait up!", he told her, "I still need your help for a bit. Do you think you could print this for me?"
But she shook her head, saying there were no printers for these files for copyright issues. Damien nodded his understanding, but asked her if she minded writing down the information on the screen. Of course, it struck her as odd, and said that he could do it on his own. Damien shook his head, pointing at the screen again. He needed this information. Someone he knew passed away, and he needed the information to go to the funerals, which made sense. But when she asked him what the name of the person was, he stalled for a moment, then said that it was a long lost friend of a family member, and that he did not know his last name, so he needed to make some research. Of course, the librarian agreed, understood, but suggested he came back with said family member to look it up.
Now Damien was starting to lose his patience. How hard was it to write down a name and an address? There were about four pages of names, yes, but at least half of them were "in remembrance of the death of" that dated back to years ago. It was getting confusing and hard. That woman, if it was a woman at all, was starting to get on his nerves, asking too many questions.
Eventually, he shook his head with impatience, "I can't read. It's not something I want people to know, even less my family."
"Oh... oh I see, yes yes... Um... well... um...", she reached for a piece of paper and a pencil, "Well um.... okay, here, give me a moment..."
Damien nodded and thanked her. He had guessed it would have come down to this, but he had nearly messed up as well. After about ten minutes, the librarian handed him the piece of paper, smiling at him. She looked a little more like a woman now, but he still could not be sure. She escorted him back to the door, still smiling, and Damien had a hunch it meant he had just made a new friend. She had made her good deed of the day by helping someone they way she had after all. He owed her, that was for sure. When he reached back into his pocket and handed her a piece of paper with his cell phone number scribbled on it, she took it questioningly. He let her know that she had been of great help, and if she needed anything, to give him a call.
She even opened the door for him, waving at him when he left. If she had realized that Damien had just given her a written note, she may not have been this happy. Then again, there were illiterate people who understood numbers and how to write them, compared to writing words, and that's probably what she would tell herself in the end.
"Made a new friend?", Alice smirked, looking at the genderless being waving at Damien before going back inside the large building.
Damien made no reply to this, but handed over the list for Ryan to see. But all he could see was a bunch of names with funeral dates. It meant nothing, and did not give any clues as to what could have had Ryan, Alice and Miguel forget about reading the obituaries, nor did not give anything about Miguel going into Death Rage for no apparent reason. It seemed they were still at a dead end. They were about to give up when Miguel, who had remained quiet all this time, looked at the woman, "Hey Alice... if I say Stan... what do you think about?"
"Ley...", the word came casually, quickly, automatically.
Miguel snapped his fingers, "That's it! Stanley! Whenever I think about the paper... that's what comes to mind, Stan.. and Ley. Stanley!"
Ryan nodded, then looked over the list again with Damien, his finder tracing down the names.
"There is a Joseph Stanley in there...", Ryan said, confirming it was the only Stanley in the list, "... and according to this, the funerals are happening as we speak."
To be continued...
Survival 101 - (Return to Mike's Residence)
Survival 101 - Return to Mike's Residence
March 18th 2006
Blog Entry 8
When Alice voiced going back to Mike's place to see if anything had been missed, no one objected to it. They had nothing to lose after all, except maybe Mike, but going to his hometown was most likely one step closer to finding the old man.
Ryan drove the pack back to Boulder. The ride was quiet. The road was clear, the sky grey and threatening to rain at any given time. A few drops of water splashed over the windshield, but that was as far the the bad weather went all day. Ryan concentrated his gaze on the road with his lips tightly shut and thinking as silently as he usually did. Mike was gone. Their tribute to Muraco kept being delayed. Things sure weren't going his way. He was not the type of man to show his utter emotions, even speak of them, but it was obvious the events troubled him. Of course, would anyone ask him, he would shrug it off as he always did.
However, as he drove, he caught a glimpse of something rather unusual from the corner of his eye. Miguel, as usual, sat in the back of the SUV, while Damien's large bulk sat in the backseat with his head lowered and his body slightly crouched. Alice was sitting in the passenger's seat next to Ryan, rubbing at her temple with her eyes closed. Her skin had gone from its pretty tanned bronze to a grayish complexion. A glimmer of sweat had appeared above her brows as well. Ryan slowed the pace of the SUV, giving her a few more glances, until finally, he asked her if she needed him to stop by the side of the road for some fresh air. The woman shook her head faintly, inquiring it was not necessary... but it only took less then a minute until she asked him to stop the vehicle. She stepped out in a hurry, ran by the ditch about ten feet from the group, fell to her knees, and threw up. After long minutes with her head down to stare at her lap, she finally stood back up, going back to her seat and not looking at any of the passengers. Not looking at Damien's whose frown betrayed worry and wonder. He decided to keep it to himself for the time being.
"Will you be alright?", Ryan asked her.
And to this, she replied she was fine, that it was nothing to worry about, and that they should be on their way.
Miguel snorted from the back of the SUV, "Heh, can't bring women anywhere, they always get in the way."
"Fuck you, Miguel", she spat back at him, to which he made a shark like mocking grin back at her in the rear view mirror.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
But she only rolled her eyes and set herself deep into the seat once more, looking outside as Ryan followed the road to Boulder again. By the time they got to the town, Alice had gained back her colors.
Upon finding Mike's house, it seemed to have been untouched since Damien's last investigation. Still, from the outside, the residence looked clean and undamaged, but as soon as the group entered by the door inside the garage door, they found themselves taking a deep breathe, finding the mess. Unfortunately, not only was the blood Damien had found gone, but there were no more clues to explain what could have happened to Mike. Obviously, had there been any, it would have been wiped out and away just like the blood.
And so they were at an impasse once again. There was nothing that could help them find clues about Mike's disappearance and obvious attackers. But they were not about to give up. The newspaper was brought up again, and although there was a lot of unease concerning the issue, it was obvious they would find the answers in the newspaper. It would be a good way to find out if, also, only the newspaper brought back to Denver had been cursed - if it was at all - or if all the newspapers to the date of the previous day were bugged. It was soon agreed that going to the local library would enable them to find previous newspapers archived, such as the Bolder News.
They found a large, old building, with bronze statues of random important people on each side of marble stairs. They were probably early Maire's, or the founders of Boulder, standing proudly with their chest puffed in their expensive clothes. On top of a large clock and tower was the American flag, flowing wildly with the wind. There were plenty of people going up and down the stairs, most of them university students, some children with graphic novels, others just plain people looking for a good novel of their choice.
Ryan pulled the SUV by the side of the road and by the entrance, looking at the two sets of wooden and metal doors. Everyone stepped out of the car, and Ryan stepped forward, looking back once before disappearing in the library. When the doors closed behind him, a thought most likely occurred to the pack and the woman. What if, by any misfortune, it sent Ryan into Death Rage as it had Miguel? This time, there were plenty of innocents to slay, not just a few people who knew of Ryan's real identity. There were children, elders, men and women, innocent bystanders not even looking back at the man with the green coat and the jersey shirt hanging lose over his jeans. He looked no different then they, like this, looking for archives... looking for something that had nearly gotten him killed.
When he stepped out of the library again, he had not gone into Death Rage, nor had he lost his mind. But when he looked at them, his gaze looked empty for a moment. When Damien asked him if he had found the paper, all Ryan did was glance at him strangely, saying "Found what?"
Damien shook his head and sighed. So the other newspapers were bugged as well. Sending Ryan back inside was out of the question, as the risk of seeing him turn into a wild, dangerous beast had gone a notch higher. Was there no way to read the newspaper at all?
"Maybe normal humans can read it fine", Alice inquired, "for all we know, supernatural beings could be the only ones affected. Humans wouldn't give a shit for this type of thing. If they did and found out about it, imagine the uproar. Besides, if it affected humans, we would've known already. News and gossips go by fast. This place would be infested with reporters from all over the country."
Ryan and Damien agreed it was most likely the case. Humans were fast to go to conclusions, and if Luna's Avatars had noticed something was odd when you read a part of the newspapers, other people were bound to have noticed too. Not everyone read their newspapers alone at peace. So what they needed to find was a human to read the obituaries aloud. Simple enough... or was it?
Damien scratched his bald head, looking at the doors with a sigh, and stepped forward, saying he would be back; that he had an idea.
The pack and Alice blinked at him, and watched him disappear behind the large, heavy doors of the Boulder Library.
To be Continued...
March 18th 2006
Blog Entry 8
When Alice voiced going back to Mike's place to see if anything had been missed, no one objected to it. They had nothing to lose after all, except maybe Mike, but going to his hometown was most likely one step closer to finding the old man.
Ryan drove the pack back to Boulder. The ride was quiet. The road was clear, the sky grey and threatening to rain at any given time. A few drops of water splashed over the windshield, but that was as far the the bad weather went all day. Ryan concentrated his gaze on the road with his lips tightly shut and thinking as silently as he usually did. Mike was gone. Their tribute to Muraco kept being delayed. Things sure weren't going his way. He was not the type of man to show his utter emotions, even speak of them, but it was obvious the events troubled him. Of course, would anyone ask him, he would shrug it off as he always did.
However, as he drove, he caught a glimpse of something rather unusual from the corner of his eye. Miguel, as usual, sat in the back of the SUV, while Damien's large bulk sat in the backseat with his head lowered and his body slightly crouched. Alice was sitting in the passenger's seat next to Ryan, rubbing at her temple with her eyes closed. Her skin had gone from its pretty tanned bronze to a grayish complexion. A glimmer of sweat had appeared above her brows as well. Ryan slowed the pace of the SUV, giving her a few more glances, until finally, he asked her if she needed him to stop by the side of the road for some fresh air. The woman shook her head faintly, inquiring it was not necessary... but it only took less then a minute until she asked him to stop the vehicle. She stepped out in a hurry, ran by the ditch about ten feet from the group, fell to her knees, and threw up. After long minutes with her head down to stare at her lap, she finally stood back up, going back to her seat and not looking at any of the passengers. Not looking at Damien's whose frown betrayed worry and wonder. He decided to keep it to himself for the time being.
"Will you be alright?", Ryan asked her.
And to this, she replied she was fine, that it was nothing to worry about, and that they should be on their way.
Miguel snorted from the back of the SUV, "Heh, can't bring women anywhere, they always get in the way."
"Fuck you, Miguel", she spat back at him, to which he made a shark like mocking grin back at her in the rear view mirror.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
But she only rolled her eyes and set herself deep into the seat once more, looking outside as Ryan followed the road to Boulder again. By the time they got to the town, Alice had gained back her colors.
Upon finding Mike's house, it seemed to have been untouched since Damien's last investigation. Still, from the outside, the residence looked clean and undamaged, but as soon as the group entered by the door inside the garage door, they found themselves taking a deep breathe, finding the mess. Unfortunately, not only was the blood Damien had found gone, but there were no more clues to explain what could have happened to Mike. Obviously, had there been any, it would have been wiped out and away just like the blood.
And so they were at an impasse once again. There was nothing that could help them find clues about Mike's disappearance and obvious attackers. But they were not about to give up. The newspaper was brought up again, and although there was a lot of unease concerning the issue, it was obvious they would find the answers in the newspaper. It would be a good way to find out if, also, only the newspaper brought back to Denver had been cursed - if it was at all - or if all the newspapers to the date of the previous day were bugged. It was soon agreed that going to the local library would enable them to find previous newspapers archived, such as the Bolder News.
They found a large, old building, with bronze statues of random important people on each side of marble stairs. They were probably early Maire's, or the founders of Boulder, standing proudly with their chest puffed in their expensive clothes. On top of a large clock and tower was the American flag, flowing wildly with the wind. There were plenty of people going up and down the stairs, most of them university students, some children with graphic novels, others just plain people looking for a good novel of their choice.
Ryan pulled the SUV by the side of the road and by the entrance, looking at the two sets of wooden and metal doors. Everyone stepped out of the car, and Ryan stepped forward, looking back once before disappearing in the library. When the doors closed behind him, a thought most likely occurred to the pack and the woman. What if, by any misfortune, it sent Ryan into Death Rage as it had Miguel? This time, there were plenty of innocents to slay, not just a few people who knew of Ryan's real identity. There were children, elders, men and women, innocent bystanders not even looking back at the man with the green coat and the jersey shirt hanging lose over his jeans. He looked no different then they, like this, looking for archives... looking for something that had nearly gotten him killed.
When he stepped out of the library again, he had not gone into Death Rage, nor had he lost his mind. But when he looked at them, his gaze looked empty for a moment. When Damien asked him if he had found the paper, all Ryan did was glance at him strangely, saying "Found what?"
Damien shook his head and sighed. So the other newspapers were bugged as well. Sending Ryan back inside was out of the question, as the risk of seeing him turn into a wild, dangerous beast had gone a notch higher. Was there no way to read the newspaper at all?
"Maybe normal humans can read it fine", Alice inquired, "for all we know, supernatural beings could be the only ones affected. Humans wouldn't give a shit for this type of thing. If they did and found out about it, imagine the uproar. Besides, if it affected humans, we would've known already. News and gossips go by fast. This place would be infested with reporters from all over the country."
Ryan and Damien agreed it was most likely the case. Humans were fast to go to conclusions, and if Luna's Avatars had noticed something was odd when you read a part of the newspapers, other people were bound to have noticed too. Not everyone read their newspapers alone at peace. So what they needed to find was a human to read the obituaries aloud. Simple enough... or was it?
Damien scratched his bald head, looking at the doors with a sigh, and stepped forward, saying he would be back; that he had an idea.
The pack and Alice blinked at him, and watched him disappear behind the large, heavy doors of the Boulder Library.
To be Continued...
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Survival 101 - (Lost Game and Traitors)
Survival 101 - Lost Game and Traitors
March 18th 2006
Blog Entry 7
Alice seemed to take quite a while getting dressed downstairs, but as she came back to enter the conversation about what had just happened with Miguel, neither Ryan nor Damien commented on it. Either that or they truly had not noticed she had been gone for quite longer then she should have been. Nevertheless, despite the situation, she seemed nearly radiant, if not happy, with a soft smile crossing her lips.
It was not very long until Miguel himself showed up, passing the team and sitting on a random chair. Alice was not very surprised to see he had escaped his bounds, and neither did his two packmates, who knew him quite well. Miguel looked exhausted, but whatever injuries he had suffered seemed to have either disappeared or did not bother him at all. Only Alice was staring at him as if waiting for something, or was it just another lustful gaze she was throwing at him?
Little was said - although the mention of Miguel's death rage did steer him a bit - until Miguel sprung from his seat as if he had been stabbed from under. His hands roamed through his pockets in what seemed like sheer panic. Alice raised an eyebrow, looking at him questioningly, but also observing his movements. Damien and Ryan looked at him oddly, even came to ask what was wrong, but Miguel was already gone, running downstairs. The woman, with her hands behind her back, watched him run downstairs in a hurry. A look of mischief and amusement went through her, having a good idea why Miguel had become so suddenly agitated. Without a word, Miguel ran back upstairs and outside... then back inside and up into his room. Still, the woman followed his running with sheer interest, while the other men wondered what had gotten to Miguel like so. The fear of having him go into Death Rage once more came to mind as well.
"Who went into my room?!", Miguel's enraged voice echoed from up the stairs.
Alice walked forward, not intimidated by the man's anger at all, and even smiled as she told him nothing but the truth: she had gone into his room, yes. She had also gone into Ryan's room, and had also put Mike's room upside down to look for a decent weapon to save her life and probably those of that very pack. She made sure to remind him how he had gone into Death Rage, and as she did so, that damned grin, the same she had used on Killy a little while back, radiated on her pretty features. But that seemed to irritate Miguel that much more as he clearly believed she was lying and trying to look good in front of his packmates. He accused her of looking through his journal next. Oh, she had, that she had, but had found nothing of interest. She shrugged it off, saying she had had little interest in his boyish fantasies while her life had been at stake.
Perhaps it was Damien's intervention that changed Miguel's mind when he went up the stairs with heavy and angry steps.
He trailed the Irraka back to his room, finding him to be even more furious about the situation. Killy's family picture had vanished from his pockets! Alice had gone through his things! What if she had found a way to read his journal? He knew Killy had come back to the get his precious photograph, but who could have given its location away? Well, with Mike gone again, Miguel's rage came to such a point he believed he had been the one to let Killy know Miguel was holding onto the picture. And why the hell not? Why wouldn't he let the Cahalith know of it, if it were not just to sit back and enjoy seeing someone struggle again? Because Mike seemed to enjoy that so much that, in the end, it had cost Miguel and Killy near brotherhood to come to an abrupt end.
"He's dead! If I find him first, he's dead! I'll slash his chest and slit his throat myself", Miguel raged about how he would get to Mike, "I knew I shouldn't have trusted him! In fact... I don't think I can trust any of you anymore!"
Damien's own rageous, deep voice cut him in his tracks, stepping forward and hard on the wooden floor, "Why is it that whenever someone disapears they immediatly become traitors?!"
Miguel glared at him through half closed eyelids, opening his mouth to spat back at his packmate. Damien rose his large hands in front of Miguel to hush him before he would go on, then Damien pointed at Miguel's left side, asking him what it was. Though Miguel attempted to argue how ridiculous the Blood Talon was being, Damien still repeated himself, this time raising his voice a notch, pointing at Miguel's left side once again. When Miguel answered it was a sword he held in its shakle to the left, Damien pointed to Miguel's right, to his second sword. When Miguel agreed it was there, his voice lowered slightly.
"Well both of those were in ME!", Damien exclaimed, "I don't care if you don't remember it, because I sure do! Now, you wanna stop associating me with traitors? Because the list seems to be growing."
And to that, Miguel said nothing, lowering his head with shame and understanding, but still keeping his eyecontact with Damien nevertheless. There was still a bit of pride left to Miguel after all, and he was not about to be fully defeated yet. He would hold to his beliefs strongly, his hatred for what he believed Mike had done never leaving his eyes. Although he saw Damien's point clearly, doubts about his packmates were still present, and were not about to leave anytime soon.
Damien shook his head, sighing heavily. If that had not been enough to reason with Miguel, then nothing was going to work. Damien had probably had enough of Miguel's behaviour up to that point, and the fact that he had gone into Death Rage and attacked his own packmates had also ticked him off. It had not been Miguel's fault, obviously, but he could still feel the cold steel of the blades deep in his chest... and that, he enjoyed no more then bullets.
He then went back downstairs where Ryan and Alice were still patiently waiting.... Alice was still smiling with mischeaf, but since she seemed to do that often, there were no questions asked.
Eventually, Miguel followed back downstairs without so much of a word, his features cold as ice. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, and watched the rest of them talk about the trip to the forest, the newspaper, and eventually, how they could not leave without Mike.
And all the while, Alice looked at Miguel with that same, sinful, mischeavous and lust filled smile...
To be continued....
March 18th 2006
Blog Entry 7
Alice seemed to take quite a while getting dressed downstairs, but as she came back to enter the conversation about what had just happened with Miguel, neither Ryan nor Damien commented on it. Either that or they truly had not noticed she had been gone for quite longer then she should have been. Nevertheless, despite the situation, she seemed nearly radiant, if not happy, with a soft smile crossing her lips.
It was not very long until Miguel himself showed up, passing the team and sitting on a random chair. Alice was not very surprised to see he had escaped his bounds, and neither did his two packmates, who knew him quite well. Miguel looked exhausted, but whatever injuries he had suffered seemed to have either disappeared or did not bother him at all. Only Alice was staring at him as if waiting for something, or was it just another lustful gaze she was throwing at him?
Little was said - although the mention of Miguel's death rage did steer him a bit - until Miguel sprung from his seat as if he had been stabbed from under. His hands roamed through his pockets in what seemed like sheer panic. Alice raised an eyebrow, looking at him questioningly, but also observing his movements. Damien and Ryan looked at him oddly, even came to ask what was wrong, but Miguel was already gone, running downstairs. The woman, with her hands behind her back, watched him run downstairs in a hurry. A look of mischief and amusement went through her, having a good idea why Miguel had become so suddenly agitated. Without a word, Miguel ran back upstairs and outside... then back inside and up into his room. Still, the woman followed his running with sheer interest, while the other men wondered what had gotten to Miguel like so. The fear of having him go into Death Rage once more came to mind as well.
"Who went into my room?!", Miguel's enraged voice echoed from up the stairs.
Alice walked forward, not intimidated by the man's anger at all, and even smiled as she told him nothing but the truth: she had gone into his room, yes. She had also gone into Ryan's room, and had also put Mike's room upside down to look for a decent weapon to save her life and probably those of that very pack. She made sure to remind him how he had gone into Death Rage, and as she did so, that damned grin, the same she had used on Killy a little while back, radiated on her pretty features. But that seemed to irritate Miguel that much more as he clearly believed she was lying and trying to look good in front of his packmates. He accused her of looking through his journal next. Oh, she had, that she had, but had found nothing of interest. She shrugged it off, saying she had had little interest in his boyish fantasies while her life had been at stake.
Perhaps it was Damien's intervention that changed Miguel's mind when he went up the stairs with heavy and angry steps.
He trailed the Irraka back to his room, finding him to be even more furious about the situation. Killy's family picture had vanished from his pockets! Alice had gone through his things! What if she had found a way to read his journal? He knew Killy had come back to the get his precious photograph, but who could have given its location away? Well, with Mike gone again, Miguel's rage came to such a point he believed he had been the one to let Killy know Miguel was holding onto the picture. And why the hell not? Why wouldn't he let the Cahalith know of it, if it were not just to sit back and enjoy seeing someone struggle again? Because Mike seemed to enjoy that so much that, in the end, it had cost Miguel and Killy near brotherhood to come to an abrupt end.
"He's dead! If I find him first, he's dead! I'll slash his chest and slit his throat myself", Miguel raged about how he would get to Mike, "I knew I shouldn't have trusted him! In fact... I don't think I can trust any of you anymore!"
Damien's own rageous, deep voice cut him in his tracks, stepping forward and hard on the wooden floor, "Why is it that whenever someone disapears they immediatly become traitors?!"
Miguel glared at him through half closed eyelids, opening his mouth to spat back at his packmate. Damien rose his large hands in front of Miguel to hush him before he would go on, then Damien pointed at Miguel's left side, asking him what it was. Though Miguel attempted to argue how ridiculous the Blood Talon was being, Damien still repeated himself, this time raising his voice a notch, pointing at Miguel's left side once again. When Miguel answered it was a sword he held in its shakle to the left, Damien pointed to Miguel's right, to his second sword. When Miguel agreed it was there, his voice lowered slightly.
"Well both of those were in ME!", Damien exclaimed, "I don't care if you don't remember it, because I sure do! Now, you wanna stop associating me with traitors? Because the list seems to be growing."
And to that, Miguel said nothing, lowering his head with shame and understanding, but still keeping his eyecontact with Damien nevertheless. There was still a bit of pride left to Miguel after all, and he was not about to be fully defeated yet. He would hold to his beliefs strongly, his hatred for what he believed Mike had done never leaving his eyes. Although he saw Damien's point clearly, doubts about his packmates were still present, and were not about to leave anytime soon.
Damien shook his head, sighing heavily. If that had not been enough to reason with Miguel, then nothing was going to work. Damien had probably had enough of Miguel's behaviour up to that point, and the fact that he had gone into Death Rage and attacked his own packmates had also ticked him off. It had not been Miguel's fault, obviously, but he could still feel the cold steel of the blades deep in his chest... and that, he enjoyed no more then bullets.
He then went back downstairs where Ryan and Alice were still patiently waiting.... Alice was still smiling with mischeaf, but since she seemed to do that often, there were no questions asked.
Eventually, Miguel followed back downstairs without so much of a word, his features cold as ice. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, and watched the rest of them talk about the trip to the forest, the newspaper, and eventually, how they could not leave without Mike.
And all the while, Alice looked at Miguel with that same, sinful, mischeavous and lust filled smile...
To be continued....
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Survival 101 - (Muraco's Help and the Journal)
Survival 101 - Muraco's Help and the Journal
March 4th 2006
Blog Entry 6
When Muraco appeared to Luna's Avatars, sending the beasts away from each other, it also had them return to their initial, human forms. The warm light which came from the spirit would engulf them all, healing their wounds within a matter of seconds.
It looked at the three pack members: three of five that had once held a powerful bound despite the latest stories of the kid departing and the old man caring for himself and none other. It did not even send Alice a second, let alone one glance, worried about the remaining Urathas who looked up to it. It walked up to Damien next, licking at his wounds, making the bloody holes close on themselves until no trace of the incident was left.
A soft moan came from Ryan as he gained back his consciousness back - and to a point, his humanity back just as well - sitting up slowly and rubbing at his temples in pain and probably confusion as well.
Alice found herself rushing by Ryan's side, asking him if he was alright, if he was with her, and most importantly, if he was not going to lose it again. But he assured her he was fine. Shaken up, most definitely, but he was very much fine. Damien too, in the end, seemed to be alright, and by the time he, Alice and Ryan were able to sigh with relief that the whole ordeal was over, Muraco had retreated away.
Miguel, on the other hand, did not join them for that. He remained lifeless on the dirty and cracked floor, far from waking up like his packmates had. The woman walked up to him slowly, looking at him with a mixture of worry and perhaps hatred: he had been the one to turn into the savage beast first after all. She moved her knee down by his side, inspecting him carefully. Whatever she was looking for though, she would keep it to herself for the moment, but later... later it would come back to her, and later, she would laugh and cry over his chest. But for now, her emotions betrayed none of what would come. What she found however, by his side and drawn in his own blood, was the scarlet red picture of an encircled closed eye. It meant little to her, but perhaps it could come in handy later.
Once Alice mentioned she had shot Miguel with the tranquilizer gun, alarm came to Ryan and Damien's features. The toxin in his body could easily become deadly when in human form. It had been used to take down a Zi'ir after all, a beast uncontrollable and in such panic and guilt the best way to take it down without killing it was to use something as strong as what could take down an elephant. A normal human's nervous system would never survive the amount of tranquilizer juice.
But Damien was quick in the situation: perhaps an adrenaline rush would cancel the toxin's effects. There was still one more needle left from the gathering that had happened a while back to wake Nick from his coma. Damien struck the large needle in Miguel's heart, pumping the adrenaline into his body as he had previously with Nick. And much like Nick, Miguel's nerves went on edge, his body crisping and convulsing painfully until he would drop back on the ground, his eyes shut and his muscles limp, but with a heartbeat that soon gained a normal pace.
Time was not wasted then. The metallic table that could have served as a surgery table or a bed was set back in place by both Damien and Ryan while Alice watched, dumb folded by the latest events. That, and being unable to move because of a sudden pain below her left breast; one she tried to conceal, even to herself, and pass it as nothing but stress. Damien used whatever he could find: ropes, belts and chains for the most part, to bind Miguel to the table. If he were to awake with another rage, then let him find his way out of the restrains and give the three remaining Urathas a few moments to brace themselves rather then be surprised as they had been the first time.
Upstairs and away from its packmates eyes, the wolf spirit appeared once again, ripping the dreaded newspaper in pieces violently with both its teeth and claws. It rose its hind leg, and like any canine, peed on the remains, before vanishing into thin air once more.
Ryan and Damien, exhausted, but still fine, nevertheless, left the mess that had been made to go to the first floor to rest and drink from the unbroken bottles.
Alice decided to give Ryan his weapon back, heading back to the bedrooms on the top floor of the house. She could have kept it to herself, but with no more darts, it had been rendered useless. Well, at least for the moment. As she stepped out of the Luna's Avatars' Alpha's room, she strolled past Miguel's opened door, recalling the book she had thrown on the floor in her haste. As casually as it could have been her very own room, she pushed the door further open and stepped in.
The room was still dark, aside from the soft beam of moonlight that came through a small opening in the ceiling. Miguel's complexion was naturally slightly darker then the average white person - not by much, however - but it was still a wonder how his skin could not turn as grey as wax, living in darkness like he enjoyed doing so. His eyes would look redder, the bags under his eyes would probably turn darker, all that amplified with the mingled black hair. In the end, he would look like the living dead, to say the least. Maybe he was just lucky or it had not happened yet, Alice mused at the thought as she picked up the small book.
On it, she found the same symbol she had noticed Miguel had drawn with his blood.
When she opened the journal though, she found nothing but blank pages. She flipped through them quickly with her thumb and forefinger, sometimes licking at them for a better grip. Still, there was no writing. No scribbling or even the glimpse of a drawing.
She was rather disappointed, most probably hoping to find something with which she could corner Miguel into telling her what had happened to Nick, or just to find out the man's little secrets which she would be more then delighted to find and later use to her advantage.
But no, there was nothing. With a defeated sigh, she threw the empty journal over on the bed and left without giving the room or even the book a second glance.
(Note from Maria: The following of Survival 101, Session 1 happened on the forum. You can read what happened by following this link here: http://wtfchronicles.proboards52.com/index.cgi?board=roleplay&action=display&thread=1142301801 We suggest you read it for better understanding of what is next to come, really. :) Have fun! )
(End of Session 1)
To be continued...
March 4th 2006
Blog Entry 6
When Muraco appeared to Luna's Avatars, sending the beasts away from each other, it also had them return to their initial, human forms. The warm light which came from the spirit would engulf them all, healing their wounds within a matter of seconds.
It looked at the three pack members: three of five that had once held a powerful bound despite the latest stories of the kid departing and the old man caring for himself and none other. It did not even send Alice a second, let alone one glance, worried about the remaining Urathas who looked up to it. It walked up to Damien next, licking at his wounds, making the bloody holes close on themselves until no trace of the incident was left.
A soft moan came from Ryan as he gained back his consciousness back - and to a point, his humanity back just as well - sitting up slowly and rubbing at his temples in pain and probably confusion as well.
Alice found herself rushing by Ryan's side, asking him if he was alright, if he was with her, and most importantly, if he was not going to lose it again. But he assured her he was fine. Shaken up, most definitely, but he was very much fine. Damien too, in the end, seemed to be alright, and by the time he, Alice and Ryan were able to sigh with relief that the whole ordeal was over, Muraco had retreated away.
Miguel, on the other hand, did not join them for that. He remained lifeless on the dirty and cracked floor, far from waking up like his packmates had. The woman walked up to him slowly, looking at him with a mixture of worry and perhaps hatred: he had been the one to turn into the savage beast first after all. She moved her knee down by his side, inspecting him carefully. Whatever she was looking for though, she would keep it to herself for the moment, but later... later it would come back to her, and later, she would laugh and cry over his chest. But for now, her emotions betrayed none of what would come. What she found however, by his side and drawn in his own blood, was the scarlet red picture of an encircled closed eye. It meant little to her, but perhaps it could come in handy later.
Once Alice mentioned she had shot Miguel with the tranquilizer gun, alarm came to Ryan and Damien's features. The toxin in his body could easily become deadly when in human form. It had been used to take down a Zi'ir after all, a beast uncontrollable and in such panic and guilt the best way to take it down without killing it was to use something as strong as what could take down an elephant. A normal human's nervous system would never survive the amount of tranquilizer juice.
But Damien was quick in the situation: perhaps an adrenaline rush would cancel the toxin's effects. There was still one more needle left from the gathering that had happened a while back to wake Nick from his coma. Damien struck the large needle in Miguel's heart, pumping the adrenaline into his body as he had previously with Nick. And much like Nick, Miguel's nerves went on edge, his body crisping and convulsing painfully until he would drop back on the ground, his eyes shut and his muscles limp, but with a heartbeat that soon gained a normal pace.
Time was not wasted then. The metallic table that could have served as a surgery table or a bed was set back in place by both Damien and Ryan while Alice watched, dumb folded by the latest events. That, and being unable to move because of a sudden pain below her left breast; one she tried to conceal, even to herself, and pass it as nothing but stress. Damien used whatever he could find: ropes, belts and chains for the most part, to bind Miguel to the table. If he were to awake with another rage, then let him find his way out of the restrains and give the three remaining Urathas a few moments to brace themselves rather then be surprised as they had been the first time.
Upstairs and away from its packmates eyes, the wolf spirit appeared once again, ripping the dreaded newspaper in pieces violently with both its teeth and claws. It rose its hind leg, and like any canine, peed on the remains, before vanishing into thin air once more.
Ryan and Damien, exhausted, but still fine, nevertheless, left the mess that had been made to go to the first floor to rest and drink from the unbroken bottles.
Alice decided to give Ryan his weapon back, heading back to the bedrooms on the top floor of the house. She could have kept it to herself, but with no more darts, it had been rendered useless. Well, at least for the moment. As she stepped out of the Luna's Avatars' Alpha's room, she strolled past Miguel's opened door, recalling the book she had thrown on the floor in her haste. As casually as it could have been her very own room, she pushed the door further open and stepped in.
The room was still dark, aside from the soft beam of moonlight that came through a small opening in the ceiling. Miguel's complexion was naturally slightly darker then the average white person - not by much, however - but it was still a wonder how his skin could not turn as grey as wax, living in darkness like he enjoyed doing so. His eyes would look redder, the bags under his eyes would probably turn darker, all that amplified with the mingled black hair. In the end, he would look like the living dead, to say the least. Maybe he was just lucky or it had not happened yet, Alice mused at the thought as she picked up the small book.
On it, she found the same symbol she had noticed Miguel had drawn with his blood.
When she opened the journal though, she found nothing but blank pages. She flipped through them quickly with her thumb and forefinger, sometimes licking at them for a better grip. Still, there was no writing. No scribbling or even the glimpse of a drawing.
She was rather disappointed, most probably hoping to find something with which she could corner Miguel into telling her what had happened to Nick, or just to find out the man's little secrets which she would be more then delighted to find and later use to her advantage.
But no, there was nothing. With a defeated sigh, she threw the empty journal over on the bed and left without giving the room or even the book a second glance.
(Note from Maria: The following of Survival 101, Session 1 happened on the forum. You can read what happened by following this link here: http://wtfchronicles.proboards52.com/index.cgi?board=roleplay&action=display&thread=1142301801 We suggest you read it for better understanding of what is next to come, really. :) Have fun! )
(End of Session 1)
To be continued...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)