Last night, Sera dreamed of a sky filled with moths.
She dreamed of a figure cloaked in owl feathers standing atop the ruined stump of what had once been a great tree.
There was rage in the air. Old and thick and sour.
And blood rained down from the sky.
This was all she would remember when she woke. Moths. Feathers. Blood. Rage. An old promise.
But perhaps it was just a dream.
RevancheIt was a pretty summer evening in Denver, and many people around the city were out enjoying the pleasant warmth of the slowly setting sun. Many of the more popular parks were filled with visitors, and typically Garfield Lake was no exception. Tonight, however, the place seemed quiet. In the center of the park, the small lake sat serenely empty - devoid even of the usual scattering of ducks that made the place their home.
And so, this was the place where Pan, Sera and Lena would find themselves that evening. Perhaps the excursion was intentional, or perhaps they all simply converged there by their own motives or wandering. Regardless, tonight the park was as picturesque and lovely as a postcard, its water reflecting hues of burnished gold in the evening light.
There was a path circling the lake's perimeter. No one else seemed to be walking there. But...
Look: splashes of red on the pavement. Fresh blood leading in a trail that became a slick-stain and then... disappeared into the bushes.
Lena ReillyLena likes going out and visiting the parks. She's a woman of the city in her heart--she can't get too far away from the pulse of the clubs and the pulse of humanity, echoing the same heartbeat all around her. But she does have an appreciation for nature, which resonates with the same rhythm in so many other ways. The gust of wind, the ebb and flow of waves. Everything pulses with the Lakashim and sometimes, Lena likes to remind herself of that.
And so the DJ is out walking. She's wearing a simple tank top that reads, "Bitch Don't Kill My Vibe" across the front in white, a pair of jeans and a pair of sneakers. As usual, she's plugged into her iPod with earbuds sticking in each ear. One can appreciate the beauty of nature and music at the same time, she argues. Well, when she has to.
And then she notes something's out of order. She frowns a moment, looks off in the direction where there is blood. She gives a quick look around and then, instinctively, extends her perceptions as she moves to investigate.
[[Per+Awareness, Spec: Uncanny Instincts]]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 3 ) Re-rolls: 1
SerafíneLast night, this morning: Serafíne had a dream. Woke with the metallic scent of old blood in her nostrils and something older and more sour as an ugly tang - beneath her tongue, behind her ears. Woke in the nest of soft white sheets and her soft white comforter, all cocooned in white and breathed in deep and sat up in abruptly and stared at the afternoon sun streaming in through the bank of windows framing her bedroom, interrupted by the falling shadow of the big old oak that shades the garden, all uncomprehending.
Dan sensed the disturbance when he greeted with with a kiss on the temple and an offer to cook her breakfast. At 3:38 p.m. She told him she had a dream but no more than that but still: he understood why she sat there at the kitchen table, pushing scrambled eggs around on her plate without eating. Toasted her a bagel because she is still too thin but: she didn't eat that either.
Instead she called a priest and left her number on a pager and had a call back and told him: I had a dream last night. There was blood. She would be over later to tell him more.
After the League of Mary.
And now it is sunset and this is a park and Sera is dressed as Seras usually are: in virtually nothing. In denim cut-offs and fishnets and a tiny black halter top covered in silver and gold foiled stars and her long hair is pulled back and half-plaited and she has a bracelet around her left wrist that is covered in half to two-inch spikes and a long-sleeved shirt tied around her hips and a bag slung over her right shoulder and she's wearing her Docs so: shorter than her heels. She's walking to walk the dream out of her system, to let it breathe into the fucking night and then see:
here is Lena, and
here is blood.
--
Sera is still for a long moment. Watches Lena as the other Cultist espies blood and looks to investigate. Glances off then, at the sun setting aflame over the glassine lake, her eyes slitted against the glare. Opens herself up, head cocked in an aspect of listening and,
opens herself up, all over again. Biting down on her cheek until blood runs in her saliva. Digging her blunt nails into the palms of her hands. Until the pain is like a spike through her skull and the world opens up all around her, the remnant energy that few others know or can see.
Serafíne[Per + Awareness: specialty, resonance]
Dice: 7 d10 TN5 (1, 2, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9) ( success x 5 )
Serafíne[Prime 1: Watch the Weaving. Dif 4-1 (specialty focus)]
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (6, 8) ( success x 2 )
Revanche[There does not appear to be any recent willworking in the area. No hints or threads of manipulation. However, Sera will be able to feel that something is... off. A prickle of ghostly cold whispers at the back of her neck. Like someone walking over her grave. And a lingering miasma of feral rage.]
Fr. EcheverríaExcepting his time out of the country gone to Mexico to tend to burying one of his parishioners the priest has been prompt in answering his pager. Unless he is at the pulpit or in the confessional. An hour's delay then, maybe two. No one has tried to reach him with a matter of such urgency that he needed to respond more quickly.
One time they left him a note just to let him know what was up and Rosa threw it away but later confessed. Apologized, in her own way. That hasn't happened again.
So he's out walking with Sera now and maybe she's expounding on the contents of the dream or maybe she's just walking along beside him content in the knowledge that his brightness beats back other people and the darkness those like John Brogan have tried to bring before. No unreasonable reason why she shows up at his place at all hours of the night: he feels safe.
He stood in front of her to use his body as a shield long before he had a reason to.
Now there's blood and he puts a hand on Sera's shoulder but doesn't haul her in or push her behind him. It's just a reminder.
SerafíneSera was quiet while they walked on the city streets. Humans there, ordinary people who did not need to hear their priest discussing rains of blood and old rage with the creature who shows up at the rectory at all hours and whom most of the abuelitas assume is a prostitute.
As you will, when she dresses like that. Shows up drunk or tripping or fucked the hell up and arrives at three a.m. and leaves at noon or hugs him close in the shadow of the church.
Leaves her goddamned fishnets behind in his bathroom.
--
But the park, see, the park is deserted. The park is therefore safe and she is indeed telling Pan quietly about her dream. The sky was full of moths, she says to him. There was this dark figure on top of the stump of a huge old tree, covered in owl feathers. Anger, once scourching but now turned, aged, sour and gut-twisting.
Then came the blood, falling from the sky like rain.
Maybe it was just a dream, she tells him with this haunted but bracing little smile.
They both know it rarely is.
--
And now, there is blood. Pan puts his hand on her shoulder and Sera lifts her chin and gives him this sidelong glance, this not-quite-hooded smile that is not-a-smile so much as thanksgiving.
She is not wearing heels tonight.
He towers over her.
"Do you feel that?" Quiet, to him. He does not stay her and she follows the path. A delicate shiver glissades up and down her spine. " - like something walking over you grave. And this - rage too."
Then, calls out - "Lena - " to be assured that the other woman knows they are close, are behind her, that she is not entirely alone in the park.
Lena ReillyThe Cultist closest to the blood spatter gets a shiver down her spine and instinctively straightens up. That feeling is never a good thing. She pulls the earbuds from their secure spot but keeps them at the ready as she lifts her head, looks around.
And that's when she notices Pan and Serafine. It wouldn't be accurate to say that she smiles, because meeting over a big old blood smear is not Smile Time. She turns in their direction and approaches.
"Hey." No more pleasantries than that at the moment...time for that later. Hopefully. She looks back at the trail of life essence spilling the ground and then back to the two. "Something's not right here. Besides the obvious. There's anger...no, more than that. Fury. Hanging over the area."
Fr. Echeverría[perc + awareness: crap.]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 3, 6, 7, 9) ( success x 3 )
RevancheAs the three magi followed that trail of blood, the drew nearer to the thick patch of gnarled shrubs and trees that lined this section of the lake. And as they drew nearer, they'd notice the leaves swaying gently, shivering as something moved within them. A prickle and crack of broken twigs, and then... a deeper crunch (like the sound of a bone breaking,) followed by a series of low, wet snarls.
It sounded like predators devouring a kill.
And then suddenly, a cloud bloomed out into the air, fluttering soft and grey around Pan, Lena and Serafine.
Moths.
They swirled in circles and batted their dusty wings against the trio's exposed skin, before parting with the wind and moving to settle once more in the trees.
Lena ReillyLena stops when she hears the wet crunching, the sounds you might expect in the worst gore films if gore films actually got anything right. She's an Ecstatic and she holds very strongly to the Code of Ananda, including that of not suppressing her emotions. Right now, it's fear she's not suppressing.
But as the code also notes, she's allowing herself to be shackled by it either. She pops one side of her headphones in and thumbs up the next song on her playlist, letting the beat flow through her mind as she expands it out to brush carefully against the minds of whatever might be there.
And then, out of nowhere, come the moths. She gives a strangled cry like (but not quite) a scream, throwing her hands up to protect her face instinctively. She swipes to clear them away, trying to get clear, and then watches them go with a scowl.
"Okay, what the fuck?" She looks at the others and then back, taking a breath and trying again.
[[Mind 1: Sense into that shrubbery where the crunching was and hope it wasn't carnivorous moths! Diff 4-1 for spec foci]]
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (6, 8) ( success x 2 )
SerafíneThat blood. That rage. And then: the sudden swirl of the moths, grey and grey and grey in the long shadows of twilight, surging all around them, the fragile wings battering against her skin, individually whispersoft. So strangely en masse, though, so persistent in their contact the powder from their wings fills the air, in gentle errant puffs.
Serafíne cries out, see. Makes this back-of-the-throat noise and then another, more overt one that she tries to swallow back into her body.
When the swarm has settled itself back - rather eerily - into the branches of the scrub trees all around them Sera shakes herself back into some semblance steadiness. Breathes in deeply and exhales shakily but, " - get away from there Lena," she calls. To the other woman who is closer, who is too-close to the rustling bushes.
If Pan's hand is still on her shoulder, she leans into the physical contact. It's not really enough to push her beyond the boundaries of her skin but there are also layers. The remnants of the joint she smoked an hour ago, with Dan on the cabana bed in her backyard. The reassertion of pain as she bites into her cheek again. The quiet hum in the back of her throat, a song no one can remember.
Serafíne[Life 1 / Mind 1 - coincidental but those foci (unless snuggling with Pan counts, does he snuggle back?) are not her specialty foci.]
Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (3, 4) ( success x 1 )
Fr. EcheverríaNeither Lena nor Pan smile when they see each others' points in space. Pan lifts his free hand to signal that he too has seen her before she approaches them and then she says something isn't right and the priest at least does not argue with her. His eyes drift around the park in the moment before that sound lifts up and then he draws a breath like to steel himself.
A moment before they spoke of blood and its raining down and the dream that ruined the rest of her day. He does not take his hand off of the young singer's shoulder even after the disc jockey joins them.
And then the moths. If he is surprised or disgusted he keeps it to himself. Does not step back or startle though he has to feel something. The man is not insensate. Sera has caught him in the midst of uncertainty and guilt. She saw him the night he came back bloody and bewildered. That's as close to scared as anyone has seen him and in that moment he was scared not for himself but for those he'd left alone mere miles from the end of the world.
Sera leans into his hand and he slides his arm around her shoulder and reaches out to take whatever cigarette - joint, he doesn't care right now - she's smoking. Draw a drag off of it.
To the two of them he says, letting go the gray with it: "It's alright. They're just moths."
[entropy 2 - light the path. YAY DICE.
coincidental. base diff 5, -1 appropriate resonance (illuminating) -1 practiced.]
Dice: 3 d10 TN3 (1, 5, 7) ( success x 2 )
Revanche[Sera's attempt to open her senses to the creatures in the bushes is only partially successful. There is life around her, certainly. Life in the trees and beneath the surface of the lake. Grass, bugs. The moths, they are alive. And of course, Pan and Lena. But whatever is in the bushes? Those things are not alive.
But they do have minds. Simple, basic. There are five of them, and they feel... like dogs, almost, but somehow less so. Vacant and cold and feral. Like mindless hunters.]
SerafíneSera is smoking a clove cigarette. The paper is dark blue and the smoke is pungent and sweet and but not sickly and when she smokes it she does not inhale as she does when she smokes an ordinary cigarette. Or a joint. She just draws the smoke into her mouth and breathes it mostly out again, rarely, so rarely, inhaling fully. Mostly the cigarette is forgotten, more mobile incense than anything else, but: it is there when Pan reaches for it, and -
- so is she, when still, when he slides his arm around her shoulder, she tucks her body against his. Fits herself into the shape of his flank, beneath his arm. And Works, see?
"Whatever's in there, all five of them," her voice is pitched low but is high enough to carry to Lena, to Pan. She's lifting her chin toward the latter, almost slitting her eyes against the bright resonance of his Work. " - they're not alive. There's no spark."
RevancheIt was like some kind of brutal nature documentary. Only...
This was not a pack of wolves. And the carcass they devoured was not a deer. But they couldn't see that. All the trio could see through the crackling branches was the occasional shift and shadow of nebulous movement. It was the sounds that told the real story.
But they weren't given time to investigate further, because that was when the creatures themselves broke through the cover and appeared on the path.
They were dogs. A pack of them: three mutts, a lab and a massive german shepherd, all of them feral and covered in blood. There was something wrong about these dogs. At first glance, it looked as though they'd been in a fight: torn fur and loose skin hanging off of bones. But as they stopped to turn their attention to the three mages, their eyes were clouded and empty. Dead.
Then she shepherd growled, and the pack charged.
[Inits!]
Serafíne+6
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (8) ( success x 1 )
Lena ReillyShe takes a couple steps back away from the bushes that she was scanning, eyes widening. If she had a gun, this is where she would be drawing it. If she had a knife...well, you get the idea. Instead, she just crouches a bit, tensed, with no other option but to prepare and act defensively.
"No. It's not just moths. There's some kind of...mindless animals in there. Hunters."
[[Init+5]]
Dice: 1 d10 TN3 (7) ( success x 1 )
Revanche[Edit: Then THE shepherd growled.]
Revanche[Shepherd +6]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (4) ( fail )
Revanche[Lab +5]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (8) ( success x 1 )
Revanche[Mutt 1 +5]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (6) ( success x 1 )
Revanche[Mutt 2 +4]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (8) ( success x 1 )
Revanche[Mutt 3 +4]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (1) ( fail )
Fr. EcheverríaThe pack charges.
He doesn't even bother telling the girls to get behind him. He just puts himself there.
[+5]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (8) ( success x 1 )
Revanche[And the inits are!
Sera - 14
Pan - 13
Lena - 13
Lab - 13
Mutt 2 - 12
Mutt 1 - 11
Shepherd - 10
Mutt 3 - 5]
Revanche[Mutt 3 (this is the terrier-ish one): Bite Lena]
Revanche[Actually, scrap that: Split close distance then bite Lena]
Revanche[Shepherd: Close distance / Bite Pan]
Revanche[Mutt 1: Close distance / Bite Sera]
Revanche[Mutt 2 (the other smaller one): Close distance / Bite Sera]
Revanche[Lab: Close distance / Bite Pan]
Lena Reilly[[1a: Move to the side away From Pan & Sera (trust me guys, you'll thank her later if injuries occur), dodging
1b: Dodge the damned dog]]
Fr. Echeverría[1: it's motherfucking Holy Stroke time.]
Serafíne[1. Mind 2: empathic projection, FEAR. Targeting the LARGEST DOG trying to bite Pan.]
Serafíne[Empathic projection: coincidental. Dif 5 -1 resonance appropriate; -1 specialty focus (she's gonna scream/sing or something IDK)]
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (7, 8) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Revanche[Shepherd is SCARED]
Fr. Echeverría[Holy Stroke, aka AND HE WILL ANSWER WITH FIRE unless you biff this roll then screw you pal.
vulgar, no witnesses: base diff 6. +1 diff (fast casting) -1 diff each: appropriate resonance, practiced. spending WP for extra success.]
Dice: 3 d10 TN5 (4, 4, 5) ( success x 2 ) [WP]
Revanche[Since that should have been diff 4, that was actually 4 successes. Shepherd takes 6 agg.]
Revanche[Lena gets away from the others]
Revanche[Lab: 2nd split biting Pan -3]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (3, 7) ( success x 1 )
Revanche[Bite damage 3]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (4, 6, 10) ( success x 2 )
Revanche[Pan takes 2L]
Revanche[Mutt 2: 2nd split biting Sera -3]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (3, 7) ( success x 1 )
Revanche[Bite damage 2]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (4, 7) ( success x 1 )
Revanche[Sera takes 1L]
Revanche[No she doesn't, because I can't read my own notes. Bite misses]
Revanche[Mutt 1: 2nd split biting Sera again -3]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (7, 7) ( success x 2 )
Revanche[Bite damage 3 + 1]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 8, 8) ( success x 2 )
Revanche[Sera takes 2L (for real this time)]
Revanche[Shepherd changes action to trying to limp away]
Revanche[Mutt 3: 2nd split biting Lena -3]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (10) ( success x 1 )
Revanche[Bite damage 1]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )
Revanche[Lena takes 1L]
Revanche[New declares!
Sera
Pan
Lena
Lab
Mutt 2
Mutt 1
Shepherd
Mutt 3]
Revanche[Mutt 3: Bite Lena!]
Revanche[Shepherd: Run away!]
Revanche[Mutt 1: Bite Sera]
Revanche[Mutt 2: Bite Pan]
Revanche[Lab: Bite Pan]
Lena Reilly[[1: Kick the dog before it can bite her]]
Fr. Echeverría[1: Still got Quint left. Stroke the Lab.]
Serafíne[ 1. Mind 2: Empathic projection. FEAR on the larger of the dogs attacking her.]
SerafíneSo, Sera is bloody frightened and may be crying because she was bitten but she knows that the shepherd is running away because she made him run. Her resonance is dark and viscous around her: gut-twisting, physical, immediate but she scared it the fuck away and when she sees that she crows about it, still half singing but yeah the song is like run the fuck away, see. Leave us alone and I'm scarier than you.
[So: second verse same as the first. Mind 2, dif 5 -1 resonance appropriate, -1 specialty focus + WP because fuck.]
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (8, 8) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
SerafíneWP
Dice: 6 d10 TN8 (2, 6, 6, 7, 7, 9) ( success x 1 )
Revanche[Lab is scared and switching action to running away]
Revanche[Er, Mutt 1, that is]
Fr. Echeverría[WP]
Dice: 8 d10 TN8 (2, 2, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 9) ( success x 1 )
Fr. Echeverría[poor puppy. +1 diff because distracted.]
Fr. EcheverríaDice: 3 d10 TN5 (2, 7, 8) ( success x 2 )
Lena Reilly[[BOOT TO THE DOG! Fear my mighty die pool!]]
Dice: 3 d10 TN7 (3, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )
Revanche[Lab takes 2A]
Lena Reilly[[Damage!]]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 6, 8) ( success x 2 )
Revanche[Mutt 3 Soaks]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (1) ( fail )
Revanche[Mutt 3 takes 2L and is knocked back]
Revanche[2B rather >_>]
Revanche[Lab: Biting Pan -1 from wounds]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (4, 6, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )
Revanche[Damage 3 + 2 (ouch)]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 3, 7) ( success x 1 )
Revanche[Pan takes 1L (3L total)]
Revanche[Mutt 2: Also biting Pan]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Revanche[Damage 2 + 2]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 6, 9) ( success x 2 )
Revanche[Pan takes 2 more L - 5 total]
Revanche[Mutt 3 Has to take a round to get back up]
Revanche[Oh right, Shepherd is still running]
Revanche[New Declares:
Sera
Pan
Lena
Lab
Mutt 2
Mutt 1
Shepherd
Mutt 3]
Revanche[Mutt 3: Bite Lena for realz!]
Revanche[Shepherd: stiiiiill running!]
Revanche[Mutt 1: Also running!]
Revanche[Mutt 2: Bite Pan]
Revanche[Lab: Bite Pan]
Lena Reilly[[Okay Pan dying, Sera's got the right idea. And Lena can take a bite. Mind 2: Fear on Lab]]
Fr. Echeverría[This is working pretty good. Holy Stroke Part Trois - still aiming for Lab.]
Serafíne[Mind 2: Empathic Projection - Fear on Mutt 2]
Serafíne[Mind 2: Difficulty 5 -1, resonance appropriate; -1 specialty focus]
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (5, 5) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Revanche[Mutt 2 be runnin]
Fr. Echeverría[¡WP!]
Dice: 8 d10 TN8 (1, 3, 3, 3, 5, 6, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )
Fr. Echeverría[go away, Lab, you're wrecking my pants. +1 diff.]
Dice: 3 d10 TN5 (2, 3, 5) ( success x 2 ) [WP]
Revanche[Lab takes 2 more Agg - 4A total]
Lena Reilly[[Willpower]]
Dice: 6 d10 TN8 (2, 2, 5, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 2 )
Lena Reilly[[Mind 2: Diff 5 - 1 specialty focus +1 for distraction, -1 Quint for diff]]
Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (8, 9) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Revanche[Lab is running!]
Revanche[Ok, everyone is running away except Mutt 3, so: Biting Lena -1 from wounds]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (4, 8, 10) ( success x 2 )
Revanche[Damage 1 + 1]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (4, 4) ( fail )
Revanche[*pwink*]
Revanche[Ok, one dog left, the others are running. Shepherd and Mutt 1 are pretty far away, Mutt 2 and Lab are reachable but it'll take a turn to get to them. Mutt 3 is still going for broke.
Declares:
Sera
Pan
Lena
Mutt 3]
Revanche[Mutt 3: Bite Lena]
Lena Reilly[[Fuck Off Dog! Kick it again!]]
Fr. Echeverría[Got one Quint left. YOLO.]
Serafíne[Mind 2: empathic projection. Fear on Mutt 3.]
SerafíneDif: 5 -1 (resonance) -1 spec focus. + WP.
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (2, 9) ( success x 2 ) [WP]
Revanche[Mutt 3 is running! But only for 1 round]
Fr. Echeverría[zap?]
Dice: 3 d10 TN4 (2, 3, 9) ( success x 1 )
Revanche[Pan's effect fizzles]
Lena Reilly[[Hiya!]]
Dice: 3 d10 TN7 (2, 5, 10) ( success x 1 )
Lena Reilly[[Damage]]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (6, 7, 9) ( success x 3 )
Revanche[Mutt 3 soaks]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (5) ( fail )
Revanche[Mutt 3 takes 3 B, runs away]
SerafíneExtending +1 difficulty for extending, -1 spending quint. GO AWAY.
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (6, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Revanche[Pan's Paradox]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7) ( success x 4 )
Fr. EcheverríaLOLLLL
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (1, 4) ( fail )
RevancheIt happened that quickly, as these things always do.
The dogs were on them in moments, and Lena, knowing the possible risk her blood might pose to the others, jumped away from the main group with the smallest of the canines snapping at her heels. It got one good bite in at outset, tearing a chunk of flesh from her calf, before she was able to kick it away.
The other four dove for Pan and Serafine, but the Cultist sent the largest of them, the Shepherd, running away in terror. As its nails scrabbled against the pavement, the priest struck it full-on with a devastating blast of prime energy that tore much of the flesh from its bones. Immediately after that, the lab sunk its teeth into Pan's thigh and the other two took turns snapping at Sera, who took a painful bite to her forearm before she sent the larger of the Mutts running off behind the Shepherd.
Pan continued to hurl attacks at the remaining dogs, melting pieces of flesh from the lab's dingy and blood-soaked frame. But it and the other Mutt managed to get in a lethal combined attack before the Cultists were able to frighten them away, tearing open the Priest's stomach.
Then they, too, were bolting through the park, leaving only the smallest of the pack still biting at Lena's ankle. It managed to grab and tear some of the fabric from her pants, but missed doing further damage. Lena's second kick should have knocked the thing out, but it didn't. Sera's mental impulse though - that worked.
And then it was just the three of them alone, with Pan barely conscious and all of them bleeding from bite wounds.
When the paradox hit, they all felt it. Like the grim reaper's scythe coming down hard on the Priest's neck.
But it didn't. Quite. Kill him. Instead he slumped to the ground unconscious and in dire need of medical attention.
A moment later, the moths fluttered into the air and drifted away on the wind.
Lena ReillyShe's already on the phone the second the dog is running away. Lena is no stranger to the need to call the emergency room; not for her own issues, but...well, let's just say she works as a DJ at nightclubs. She's called for way too many ODs in her time.
"Hello, I have the victim of a wild dog attack at Garfield Lake Park. My name is Lena Reilly. No, I don't know if it had rabies. He's very badly hurt. I can't administer first aid, I was bitten and am bleeding myself and I'm a carrier of a blood-borne disease." She says it all with practiced ease, telling them exactly where and providing all other details.
"One moment." She looks to Sera and pulls off off her tank top, tossing it toward the woman. "He needs something to stop the blood flow. Use that." Yep, Lena Reilly, woman in control of herself. Doesn't happen often, but it does from time to time. Good thing she was bitten on the leg and not anywhere upper body.
Fr. EcheverríaOne of the benefits of wearing all black close to dark: blood and wound camouflage.
Which means that the Cultists hear the tear of fabric and flesh but they don't hear him scream and this has nothing to do with what he's wearing but the fact that he does not scream. He's reciting Latin. He keeps reciting until he's run himself dry and then he accepts that he did what he could.
He did what he could but he also goes into shock when teeth tear through the flesh at his midsection.
Sometimes miracles don't happen no matter what you do. He is not entitled to his God's favor and he is not a Master, is not a Prophet come down from the mountains, he's just a man despite his vows and his devotion and he stays standing even after he's started bleeding heavily enough that his color drains out his skin and onto the pavement.
All of the dogs run off and by then he breathes heavy and he could hobble if he had to but he does not have to nor does he. Pan glances at the girls who took their share of bites and he ought to say something. His purpose is to comfort and to guide. Maybe he intends to say something but he cannot catch his breath and then retribution comes for him.
He must have doubted his course while casting. That doubt comes back on him and he falls like he was hit a fifth time.
Rosa is going to kill him.
SerafíneSerafíne is okay, see? She's - okay. Well, she's shaking, she's screaming. The sound that comes out of her throat is nothing like song but it is: musical somehow, sharp and shrieking as a twisted guardrail and visceral and angry and and and -
by the end she's shaking harder. Harder, screaming at that last bloody mutt and bleeding herself, in pain but standing in front of the injured priest. Wild-eyed, staring into the darkness, monstrously frightened that those goddamned things are going to be coming back and she is spent, quite nearly utterly.
She could sleep for a week.
She could sleep for three.
--
Then paradox. The backlash she feels behind her and Sera whirls in a quick, sharp arc as Pan begins to collapse, reaches out to catch him but he's so much fucking heavier than she is that she falls to her knees, cradling his head as he bleeds, crying so hard that strings of mucus of coming out of her nose.
Lena tosses her a tank-top and Sera hardly comprehends her but catches it anyway. She's on her knees in the grass. The lake's behind her. The park's peaceful.
The sun is still there, glinting on the waters. Falling into dusk.
She's cradling Pan's head in her lap, and pressing that tank top to the terrible, bleeding wounds opened in his stomach.
She can't stop crying, and she can hardly remember how to breathe.
But she still sort of sings, soft and strangled and tangled up with each breath she draws,
Don't go. Don't go. Stay with me. Don't go. Stay here with me.
It sounds like a lullaby. Or a prayer. Or a plea.
Lena ReillyShe continues to provide details as requested--no, the dogs have run off, the wound is in the gut region, and so on--and as she's doing so she walks over to where her devastated Traditionmate is holding Pan together. She drops down to a crouch at arm's length away, reaching out to cross that distance and settle a hand on Sera's shoulder comfortingly as she waits on the phone for the paramedics to arrive.
Her heart goes out to the other woman, and she wishes she could do something to fix all of this. Even as a willworker with the fabric of reality at her fingertips she can't--not yet--so she does what she can.
RevancheSomewhere not too far across the city, the sounds of an ambulance and a police siren rang out into the night, rushing down the streets toward Federal - toward the park.
Somewhere else, five dogs in various states of injury and decay limped off into the shadows.
About twenty feet away, a dead man lay in the bushes with his chest torn completely open and his heart ripped out (devoured.)
It didn't take much time for the paramedics to arrive. Maybe ten minutes. And during that time Serafine kept the pressure on the priest's wounds long enough to keep him from bleeding out (to keep him alive.) Then suddenly they weren't alone anymore, and there were people gently pulling Sera from Pan's side and lifting him onto a stretcher. Tending to his injuries with the speed and practice of those who've seen these sorts of things a hundred times.
Except they hadn't seen this before. None of them had. And later, there'd be questions about the internal bleeding. About wounds that were not caused by dog bites and had no immediate explanation.
But that wasn't important now. What was important was that they were taking him to the hospital. What was important was that he would live.
Sera and Lena were tended to as well, with their less severe injuries. Lena separately and with proper precautions. Later, at the hospital, they'd be questioned about the dogs and dead man at the park.
But there wasn't much they could say. And many of their own questions would yet go unanswered.
Serafínephobia
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 4, 4, 5, 6) ( success x 1 )
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