do you bare your fangs at us, sir? MOONLIT RIVALS LOG 2, SCENE 2

[libraryassistants]

Who: Readers and Actors
What: The werewolves who are not sneaking into the party cause a bit of mischief... and did anybody actually agree to keep the peace tonight?
When: The night of the ball itself. [ooc timeline: Feb 6th - 19th]
Where: The city of Montica.
Content warnings: Please include any warnings in headers.


Waxing Gibbous Moon

In Town

Above the city, the Umbra Mansion stands tall. Its grand doors and windows have been opened, spilling light like a beacon. Music lilts in the air, drifting so far as to be faintly heard even in the neutral centre of the city.

The streets have emptied, particularly in the vampiric half of town. Most of the vampire loyalists have joined the masquerade, leaving their homes and shops unattended. Tonight is a special night - a once in a century event, and they wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Even some werewolves and neutral citizens have been enticed to attend. Jadis the Mystic has created a lotion that will disguise the scent of a werewolf; an effect that is broken by shifting, breaking the skin, or the gradual passage of time. It is not widely distributed, but rumours travel fast. The lotion is only given to any Guildulf-aligned werewolves, but… well, there’s nothing wrong with a little trade here or there. Right?

For all of the wolves in town - with the moon so close to being full, it’s natural for them to feel a bit more excitable. Energetic. Ready to take on the world. And seeing as Montica is so empty, it’s like a playground has just been opened up. The young wolves in particular are eager to take advantage of the empty streets, the sound of not-quite-mature howls breaking through the air in their excitement. There are hardly any people around to be scared if they play too rough or run too fast, and they are taking advantage of this with great enthusiasm.

In the highly-debated 'neutral' zone, some small packs of adolescent werewolves are gathering. There's banter and roughhousing, the not-quite-adults playfully shoving each-other over the invisible line where the vampire territory begins.

Some of the bravest amongst them take the challenge to dart over and brush their fingers over silver doorhandles - their yelps spurring courage and adrenaline in the others. What starts harmlessly enough quickly escalates as they urge each-other on, teenage excitement and the thrill of the moon encouraging all sorts of bad choices. The longer they go without reprimand, the more bold they become; and somewhere along the way, bulbs of garlic start winding up in places they wouldn't normally be found. (There is at least one group who is excitedly challenging each-other to leave the garlic in more and more absurd places. If they happen to sting themselves on some silver ornamentation on the way, all the better.)

Not all homes are unoccupied, though - sooner or later someone’s going to disturb someone else’s peace, and tensions are already so high. Hopefully there are some Responsible Adults around to curtail the worst of the mischief before someone’s temper is sparked.

Comments

after

[curzed]

Sigwulf's being followed.

It has taken a while for Curze to really figure out who exactly Sigwulf is, there's so many strangers here and no familiar scent at all to act as a guide that he could have been anyone.

Any werewolf.

But he'd been pointed in the right direction, by someone who didn't think enough about voices in the dark pleasantly asking for more to work with than a name. And now there's a bat the size of a coyote patiently following him through the city. Not in the air for the most part, not when he can skitter across walls just as easily and stay hidden a little better.

There's trouble in the city tonight. And he has no bead on what the creature encasing his brother might even be like, to defend himself or join in on the rabble rousing. Patience and observation will do for now.

[angel_of_baal]

It's dark, but not as dark as the Umbran types might like, with the moon hanging like a huge silver coin in the sky. And it's the light of that moon, the Wolf's Mother, that lets Sigwulf realize he is being followed. From the Umbran palace.

He had held his word. No violence had erupted there. He'd made sure of it. And this distrust was how they treated him. He had not half his father's pride, but still, he felt his hackles rising, as he ducked into a narrow alley, the upper floors jutting out to make flight overhead impossible, as he pulled out one of his bone daggers.

[curzed]

A werewolf's lupine shape is much, much larger than the creature following Sigwulf is, but a wolf isn't going to be able to stick to walls like that either. He's ... not actively trying to be alarming. Not this time. Nothing of his senses tells him this is his brother in another skin, but Jadis had been certain.

Trusting someone else in this is difficult. He hadn't been able to tell the last time either. So he's being as mindful as he's capable of. As Sigwulf detours into a narrow alley the oversized bat follows, picking along the wall's vertical surface with patient ease. He'll cross the path of moonlight eventually, and does absolutely nothing about trying to avoid it.

The dagger is noted, as he settles on the crossbeam between buildings to ... definitely not attack, pale fur ruffled up and wings tucked against his sides. This is deliberate. He knows he'll be seen. He knows compared to the alternate forms of many vampires he doesn't look quite right and certainly isn't the right size, but also it makes it clear if he intended to attack he'd be doing so by now.

He can guess what Sanguinius would do. But this werewolf?

[angel_of_baal]

If it was one of his own kind, he would have been able to tell by the smell. But the scent off this one that he could get even using his human nose was nothing like a wolf. Predator, yes. Wolf, no.

He hears it settle behind him, and pauses, looking over his shoulder, debating on committing to a posture of greater threat. "You can tell your lord I kept my word."

[curzed]

There's no rustle of feathers when he settles his wings, and he's forced to wonder what it might feel like to have them all ruffled up, the night air beneath each feather. Probably not the same as short bat-fur. "My Lord is so very, very far away. I kneel to none in this little town."

Speaking even like this is simple enough, a strangely pleasant baritone in the dark, accented but understandable.

He could have possibly asked, were circumstances different, what feathers might feel like. "My curiosity is my own, and I have come to do you no harm. Is it not dangerous for a wolf to roam alone? Where is your pack? Where is your safety?" It takes effort to keep anything like maliciousness out of his voice.

[angel_of_baal]

"Danger should never stop one from doing what duty requires." In fact, danger was probably a sign one was on the right path. He shifts his grip on the dagger, in case he needs to throw it. His father had always preferred close range fighting, fang and claw and muscle, to thrown ones, but Sigwulf had practiced anyway.

"My pack is safe at home, except for those I have chastised for being out, endangering the fragile peace of the city." There, he has answered questions. "I have answered your questions, now. Why do you ask them?"

[curzed]

"If I were to speak the whole truth you would not believe me," says the oversized bat with a flick of one translucent ear. "Suffice it to say in its stead we share a goal in seeing peace become permanent here."

He doesn't understand, really, what family bonds are supposed to be like. But he knows he can't allow his brothers, while they are so weak and helpless, come to undue harm for the sake of a tale. "And thus those of a like mind are to be kept from harm if possible. Your knife will avail you little. Why not put it aside?"

[angel_of_baal]

In any other place talking to a huge bat would seem a mark of insanity, but this is Montica, and Sigwulf is in no place to judge. He debates changing his own form: it's close enough to the full moon for him to be able to do it easily (but maybe be stuck there). "You seem to think you know what I can understand." Are you calling him stupid, sir? The many, many mathematical tomes in his observatory say otherwise.

His terrible people skills, however, would concur.

"Do I look like a fool who would willingly disarm myself before an enemy?" Sir, he does not.

[curzed]

Curze is already making guesses as to the pelt color of the second child of Guildulf. Did it match his hair? "I didn't say 'understand'. I said believe. They are very different things." Maybe it really was Sanguinius. This has the feel of more than one of their 'discussions' already.

"If I were an enemy, wolf, you would already be dead." For a moment the bat bares teeth in a ghastly smile, less the neat precise fangs of most vampires and more a jagged array of cutlery. "Don't make enemies where you can't afford them. That's a terrible way to go about trying to forge peace."

[angel_of_baal]

While it's true that having Roberte as a father is enough to turn anyone's hair prematurely grey from stress, his hair does match his lupine form, a heavily maned grey timber wolf. "Are you so certain of either of those remarks?" His father calls him soft: his father has never seen him in the arena. He can fight.

"Why are you following me, then, if not to spy for Lord Umbra?"

[curzed]

"I am very certain." The creature on its comfortable perch rises to all fours and hops off, a brief flutter of wings slowing a fall that might actually do damage to such thin bones, landing outside easy reach of someone Sigwulf's size. Bats should not be the size of large eagles.

Nor should they turn into ten foot tall mockeries of humanity; of course such a big ungainly bat would turn into a too-large vampire. At least his pants bother to go with him in the change of forms, a blessed little bit of vampiric magic that is probably for the best for anyone who has eyes. "If you insist on attempting to continue to posture at me instead of applying what little common sense you have, then by all means. I'll even allow you the honor of striking first." It's the same voice, though.

The difference between them might suggest Sigwulf could rely on speed to properly fight back! ... But maybe it's a very bad idea to continue this particular course. "I have already told you why I am following you. This is an embarrassing display of what you can and cannot understand or believe."

[angel_of_baal]

Bats should not be that big, and wolves should not study astrology. Let's leave that 'should' word out of the picture.

"If you truly knew the tensions here in this city, you would know my 'posturing' is not without cause." Especially after crashing the masquerade uninvited. "One of your kind does not worry a wingtip about the safety of my kind." So, you know, he's not stupid, your REASON is stupid!

[curzed]

Wolves absolutely should study astrology, isn't that why they're all always howling at the moon? "Ah, 'my kind'. As if being this is a decision one makes one morning alongside whether to have eggs and bread or cheese." He had no say in it! The library made that decision for him!

What made it really grating is every single one of his siblings were of the lupine variety, and here he is, once more inevitably on the outside looking in. "Three of my brothers are of your ilk-" Including this particular little troublemaker.. "-And none are of 'mine'. I would say my interests lie in the direction of the less parasitical of the species available. Are there other assumptions you'd like to make?" The Night Haunter's tone turns suspiciously gentle. "Let's clear them all out at once and save trouble later."

[angel_of_baal]

"As if I made a similar choice. We are what the world has made us, and our reaction to it." He's a werewolf, but he tries as hard as he can to NOT live down to the stereotype of his kind being irrational and brutal.

"If you do not like the former, take it up with the wretch who turned you into one." At least werewolves were werewolves by birth. Cursed by birth or circumstances, though, it was a burden. "Who are your other brothers. I can at least help you find them, if they are my kind."

[curzed]

"And yet which of us defined action and interest on species alone?" One black eyebrow arches, and he waggles an admonishing finger. "'One of my kind' doesn't worry about your kind, wasn't it?" He sucks air between his teeth and tsks. "And yet still I have raised no hand against you and have no interest in doing otherwise."

Generously, he's here to teach.

If there had been a doubt in his mind before about who this is, it's thoroughly banished now. "I do not need help finding my brothers, I know where they are. Now, are you finished with this foolishness? There are more important things to be concerned with."

[angel_of_baal]

"Because the enmity runs too deep for most. Years of mistrust and violence make it almost impossible to expect someone following someone down a dark, isolated alley, as a pledge of alliance." Come on, stranger.

"What is more important than my family and the peace of this city?"

[curzed]

Patience. It's a struggle to maintain. He's not given to meditation or efforts to control his temper at the best of times, but he's doing his best.

He draws a breath. Lets it out. Breathing isn't necessary as a vampire, but the routine has benefits of shifting at least some of his attention. "No matter what skin you wear, you are the same after all."

That.. has nothing to do with the topic at hand, does it? But it sounds terribly bitter suddenly, as if it is some deep, personal offense. "I grow weary of repeating myself in the vain hopes you'll actually listen. And so I will not, blunder your way in ignorance. I will make certain you don't pay for it with your life." For now. Until this wretched story is over.

But it seems to conclude the matter for the vampire, who is not going to linger without a reason to.

[angel_of_baal]

"So you tell me 'there are more important things to be concerned with' and then when I ask, you say I am not worth explaining it to." So this whole thing was a waste of his time.

A howl splits the air behind him, the howl of a hunter finding prey. "I have business to attend, and no more time for your riddles."

[curzed]

As far as he's concerned he'd already said why he was there, what was more important than this. Not another word is said. There's not even any hesitation as he disappears back into the night.

He'll still be keeping tabs on Sigwulf's location. Just not openly.

[angel_of_baal]

He waits a beat, till the other is gone, before stowing the dagger, and dropping into his wolf form, loping fast along the streets towards the trouble.