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

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

His father came close to death and...Sigwulf was nowhere near. Whether his father said it or not, Sigwulf felt that he had, at the very least, made a miscalculation. He had thought it was the right place to be, the diplomatic place, bringing a message of calm where his father would have denied entry.

"I will take care of this." Admit it, sire, he's designed for paperwork. "You need your injury attended to." He's no physician, but he knows that infection can set in, especially from bites of their own kind. Insult to injury, it seems to him.

"I will be on the confrontation with the Appiennes." Is he making demands? To his father? For once, he is. Seeing his father's blood spilled, seeing some of the kitchen staff, ghost-eyed in the court yard...he will be part of this.

"Are you sure...? You are." Roberte can see it in the boy's eyes. He smiles. "I shall not deny you. I shan't smother that fire."

Of course, though, his son still has to worry about him. He grumbles softly. "You're going to get on me about it too, then?"

He waves off any protests with his functional hand.

"I know. But it's handled for the moment. And I've been told -- there should be an apothecary coming round within the day." A frown. "We had help dealing with them. Unusual help."

"Yes. Because you would if the situation were reversed." He might be cowed by his father, but Sigwulf is no fool. If he had been injured fighting, his father would have held him down till he received treatment.

"I have a ...friend, who is a healer." Well, she said she was a healer. But she wouldn't lie. Surely. First step, then: track Cinthe and bring her back here, then on the mission for revenge. Safety over vengeance.

"What kind of help?"

Roberte nods. "Just so." When did his soft, bookish boy grow up? Grow this spine, this fire? He doesn't know. But it makes him so proud. He has to encourage it.

"We have a great undertaking ahead of us. More than one healer will not be amiss. Bring her here and we shall speak to her." He massages the tight curl of his roughly-healed wrist. "I expect this shall be an undertaking. The -- he nearly took it off, before I put him down." The memories are still fresh enough that the shock hasn't truly worn off. That will come later.

He takes Sigwulf by the shoulder, and steers him toward a quieter corner of the courtyard. "...a vampire," he says, voice low, barely a whisper. "A terrifically tall one, calling himself the 'Night Haunter.' He claimed a debt to Jadis, and said that saving our household was repayment." Guildulf shakes his head. "And I must admit, we would be dead without him."

"To Jadis?" That sets his hackles up, lips pulling back from his teeth. There's a dull feeling in his chest, that he has had secrets kept from him, alliances unknown to him. It is what happens when you are the second son, the useless one. The world moves on, and you are unnecessary to the rolling of its wheels.

Still, that sat ill with him. "If it is the creature I think, I am...unsettled by this." the creature who did nothing but taunt him. He could not imagine Tante Jadis befriending someone like that, much less to that level of loyalty.

He shakes it off--that's not something his father will have any answers for, and there were larger concerns right now. "I will find Cinthe." A good run through the city, if nothing else, will clear his head, the night air riffling through his mane, the cobblestones under his paws.

Hm," he says, nods. "She called him to us when our backs were to the wall. His manner is that of a creature ill-kept, not a man. But he has proved himself reliable in his actions. And he has promised to send his brother by, to offer his gifts with healing as well."

He gives the boy a measured look. Curious and testing. "You have encountered him. Your impressions? I shall not refuse a resource freely offered. Not even an unusual one." Not even, the quiet implication is, a vampire. "Not now. But neither should we go in blindly accepting."

"She knew him before?" That's...concerning. He knew she had things she had not told him, but this seemed the kind of secret one should not have kept that hidden. It hints at another life he cannot understand. And he had a BROTHER?

"He cornered me and then spent minutes berating me before insisting it was not worth his time to explain...whatever had caused him to follow me." So, puzzling, to say the least. It had been in his mind ever since. "Perhaps he sensed his need here."

"So it seems," Roberte mutters, massaging at his arm once more. "As strange with you as with me. He refused all offers of repayment for his help, citing that debt. But I shall plan for if that does not remain the case." It won't be easy for the household, if it comes to that, but Guildulf isn't the kind of man to put gold over his life. He pays fairly for services fairly rendered.

"Know that if you see him again. He is not an enemy thus far; and he would be a nightmare if that changed. If I cannot, ensure that your sister also knows. No further, yet, than the four of us. When we know more of his brother, the same for him."

"I would be surprised if he was as mannerless with you as he was with me." Growing up, he had had reinforced to him the importance of manners, of polite speech, of hiding wounds under words. Had Sigwulf always succeeded? No. But he had never transgressed to outright insult.

Why he had been treated with contempt and his father with respect...well, he could imagine why. The way predators always discount something unworthy of notice. Not a threat, and thus not worth sheathing claws.

"I can hardly imagine how Jadis has yoked two of the blood drinking kind to our cause." It's a little...weird. Come on, dad.

"He was certainly not deferential," Guildulf says dryly.

"And I feel the same, 'struth. But she recalls more of the future than of her early life. The answer could lay before her acquisition, or it could be a year in the future." He sighs, frowning. Looking -- guilty? Surely not.

"But I know what you are saying. I have not pushed for answers."

"Hm." And his father tolerated such disrespect. If Sigwulf had spoken to him the way the stranger had, Sigwulf would have been penned outside for a week. "I know we never fully know someone, but this is an unexpected side of Tante Jadis."

He knows better than to question that guilty look, but he notes it, and perhaps holds the silence a beat or two too long. "We will need them, eventually." He closes his eyes for a moment, because he hates what words come next. "We already are accused, by the other packs of colluding with the bloodkind." There was some truth to it, after all?

"I am well aware," he drawls. "And all of this, because I dare strive to preserve our place in our home."

He scoffs, to himself, and rolls his eyes up at the sky, at the slow approach of the coming new day. "It would be simpler, I'm sure, if we were colluding with the vampyr."

Peace by his own definition and measure, Sigwulf thinks. Which is not quite the same thing as a perfect peace. Still, now was not the time. "Sadly we are not the only ones responsible for keeping peace. Other packs have decided we are weak. That's concerning." That's his attempt to offer himself to help.

"Those rumors would be less malicious if they did not involve the idea of compulsion--some of the bloodkind have some...ability to force others to obey them. I have seen such myself."

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

In Town

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