Chains of Retribution Bloodstone Medical Center - Part 3: Moving Forward

Brendan ruffled Connor’s hair but it really didn’t have the same effect as it used to. The angle of his arm made him frown. It really had been too long. He threw it around his shoulders instead, forming their own gang, and appraised Quinn with mock contempt.

“Ey, what you mean one-man fanclub? He’s one o’ many and you know it. No need be jealous because he took the number one spot.”


He wasn’t too sure how he felt about Connor being sent to set up a damn ‘war’ room. Things really were changing. On the top of that list for him was his and Desmond’s relationship. Well, it seemed like they’d be getting it off their chest pretty soon, much to Ragenard’s apparent pleasure.

Brendan rubbed his face with his hand when their new leader finished his reel and tried to plaster a smile on his face.

“Any maid outfits? Feather dusters?” he asked jokingly, not wanting to let the imminent awkwardness phase him.

“Look at you gettin’ the cool job Con. Better be saving me some of the good stuff… Anyway guys, don’t seem like we’re gonna be gettin’ much family time until things blow over. I’ll try pop around and about when I’m not busy. But unfortunately I got bigger dogs to fry. Right weiner?” he said, removing his arm from around Connor’s shoulder and giving him a little shove.

Aimee found a place to sit down, tucking both of her legs against her chest with one arm wrapped around them. She sighed softly, chin resting down against her knees while her gaze slowly roved around the room, taking in everyone that had gathered, making note of those still absent from the group. Her stomach hurt and she was still a little apprehensive about being tossed out on her butt for her stunt, though she figured if that was going to happen, her butt would already be acquaintances with the ground outside. Still, it was best to just keep her head down and be as invisible as possible. Then, she would find out information about that Scion bitch Sasha and find her and destroy her piece by piece. "Going to kill that bitch for what she did..."

Muttering, Aimee turned her attention towards Ragenard, listening intently to his speech, growling low at the energy radiating throughout the room. She would prove that she wasn't just a weak pup. No, pretty soon they would look at her differently and she would have a true place in the pack. Making a mental note of what to tell the police if they questioned her about being at the den, she couldn't help but snicker since in truth, she was drunk that night. For once she wouldn't have to lie. Sliding up to her feet, she moved towards the guns, thankful that she would finally be able to get something since her own guns went missing while she was asleep. Grunting at that thought while making a mental note to hit up Bastien again about her knife, the nineteen-year-old paused when Ragenard's gaze shifted towards her at the mention of her father. Wait, she wasn't being allowed to go? Bullshit. Grabbing two magazines, she put them in her back pocket before snatching out a single .45 caliber gun, she stuck a magazine in it and placed it in the holster that somehow still remained on her side.

"Ragenard... please let me go with you to go find Jacques. He's all the family I have left and I won't be a liability. I'm completely sober now and I can help even though I'm injured. I'm a good shot with either hand and could be useful in the search. Please give me a chance to redeem myself... please."

"Weiner yourself, grandpa," Connor fired back, grinning. "Didn't realise you two're just the pack's janitors. All them stories o' danger and crime, an' you're actually just fightin' grime."

While Connor was talking, Quinn had stepped forwards to grab a handgun and some ammo for herself. She paused, glancing for a moment between Ragenard and Connor, before suppressing a sigh and a grimace and grabbing a second. She walked back over and stuffed the weapon into his hand, lowering her voice to murmur to him. "Don't even think about loading that thing till I get a chance to teach you how to shoot straight, y'understand? And having this is not a license to try bein' a badass. This is a last resort, an' only that."

Connor blinked down at the gun he'd been handed with a measure of bewilderment, then nodded mutely. "Yeah, sure. I'm not an idiot, sis."

Quinn just shook her head, her expression a mask of 'trying not to grimace'.

The younger Foley glanced back at Brendan and shrugged, flashing a slightly awkward smile. "Anyways, sure I'm mostly jus' doin' heavy liftin' on my end, by the sounds o' it." He paused, then frowned. "Wait, 'old on, did he say we're takin' a cat?"

"Yeah," came a voice from close by. "He did."

Seri had opened his other eye when Ragenard had started to speak, resting his head on his paws and keeping his gaze fixed on the big man. When he was mentioned, his only reaction had been to blink lazily a few times in response to the werewolf's gaze falling on him. So, he was an afterthought? As expected, then. Still, if it kept him out of any potential line of fire, he would quite happily remain as such.

After Connor had spoke, the werecat stretched out and hopped down from his perch, enjoying the baffled look on the young wolf's face as he took the few seconds necessary to attribute the words he'd just heard to the small black cat a few paces away. Before Connor could respond, the werecat shifted, his fur briefly taking on the appearance of thick shadows as he rose to his human height, and then receding altogether. He lolled his head to the side and shot Connor a thoroughly unimpressed look, before starting to shrug on his clothes.

Connor's eyes went from Seri, to Brendan, then back to Seri. After a good few seconds, the best he could manage was. "Right then."

Brendan shared Quinn’s sentiment, but likewise, hid it. He hadn’t been doing too well at keeping his loved ones out of trouble lately, anyway. This was probably for the best.

“A badass grandpa janitor, thank yer very much. Which you definitely ain’t, more like a poet. Or a rapper. Crime n’ Grime could be a thing...”

As Seri came forward, Brendan gave Connor the ‘be nice’ look. But the werecat didn’t seemed to be bothered too much, but then again, he’d probably just grew accustomed to it. No one really enjoyed being ridiculed.

“Yeah, this is Seri. Smells weird. Wicked sneaky. You guys could have rap battles, or something. I dunno what kids do these days” he said, giving Quinn a shrug, fully aware that he was embarrassing himself and enjoying it.

“Shoot people” someone piped up out of nowhere. Most people would’ve completely missed the satire in Cass’s tone as she sidled by.

“That’s the spirit” Brendan replied, his cheery way a complete contrast.

"Ouch," Desmond murmured to Chloe. "Guess 'e's still sore about last night after all, eh?" he jested.

---

Meanwhile Draaven made his way towards Snow's side. The kid had grown up since Draaven's departure, but the stark white hair made him easily identifiable among the rest.

"Looks like some things never change, huh?" he asked. "Just like old times. The armory still where it used to be at?"

---

"Rue Vive isn't far. We driving, or we running?" Bastien asked Julienne.

"Running," she answered as she gave her shoulders a roll to loosen them up. "I missed out on the pack run anyways. I could use the stretch. Besides, it'll be good for people to keep seeing us out and about. Know we're not just rolling over for those Scion fucks." Her shoulder was still tender, but the wound had healed over. A good stretch would do it good.

"Sounds good to me," Bastien replied. "You guys coming?" he hollered to the Iverians. He couldn't rightly remember which ones where Quinn and Connor, but he figured he would pick them out by their responses easily enough.

---

Seamus meanwhile seemed surprised at having received his own assignment. In Iveria, human relatives were as much family as the werewolf relatives, but here in Lutetia things were different. Humans were dead-weight more often than not. That said he was more than ready to prove himself as able and useful as his werewolf brother and cousins.

"On it," Seamus said. "I don't suppose you have an address for the Casino? And is there anyone I can talk to, to get up to speed on Scion activity here?"

Skye nodded. "Aye, shouldn't be a problem, cousin. We'll peek around all quiet like. Well, as quiet as Iverians can get at least." She winked, but felt the tension in Kian next to her.

He knew why Ragenard was sending Seamus, and Kian knew his brother was no pushover. He'd tangled with the rest of them when they were kids without a problem and knew how to get out of sticky situations with enraged werewolves. But that was home, where no one really killed each other. But these wolves were unpredictable, and if given half the chance, would kill his brother just for being there. And for the first time in his short life, being a werewolf was a hindrance to helping Seamus out. "Can't I go with Seamus?" He asked, although he knew it was futile.

___

Re'Altarm nodded softly in response, turning to the faces she would be working. If their job was done quickly and efficiently enough, she would be allowed to return back to where Jesse was.

___

Chloe gave a soft smirk. "Well, you didn't think your punishment would end with the thrashing, did you?" But then her face fell, and she took a deep breath. "Ragenard, sir.. What about me? What can I do to help?"

"If by weird, you mean 'not like old shoes and dog-breath', sure," Seri retorted to Brendan's remark on him smelling weird, rolling his eyes.

Connor snorted. "Rap battles, seriously? God, you're even older than I remember."

Cass' remark prompted a bemused blink from Connor and a raised eyebrow from Quinn, but neither made any comment on it. Quinn just exchanged a 'she always like that?' glance with Brendan, before shrugging it off.

When Julienne spoke, Seri grimaced, shooting a look in her direction. "You know I'm not going to be able to keep up with you on foot," he grumbled. His cat shape could move fast, and had the edge over the wolves on nimbleness, but in a dead run..? He'd be outpaced fairly quickly.

"If you give us the address, me an' Connor can drive over in my car," Quinn cut in. "You can ride with us, if that makes it easier."

The werecat shrugged. "Sure, whatever," he muttered, making his way over to the bag of guns and - after a tentative glance at Ragenard for any negative reaction, as though making absolutely sure he'd been included in 'everyone' - grabbed one for himself. He weighed it in his grip experimentally, frowning at it. He'd never used a gun before, but how hard could it be? It was just point and shoot, right?

"Ey, you guys catch that?" Quinn called back over to Bastien and Julienne. "I'll bring my car 'round for Seri's sake, an' meet you two there. That work with you?"

---

Snow looked up from his position propped up against the wall when Draaven approached. "Just through here," he answered, nodding his head towards the hallway and starting in that direction. It seemed like the aanarian hadn't grown all that much more talkative in the years since Draaven had left - or perhaps, understandably, it was down to the circumstances.

"Suit yourself," Julienne remarked dryly. "But the cat's going to need to learn to keep up eventually. Can't be chauffeuring him around all the time."

She was already stripping down to shift

---

Bastien shook his head as Julienne began to shift right there. "If you guys take the car, make sure to park a couple blocks away. We don't need to draw attention to any more vehicles coming and going than necessary. But I seriously doubt she plans to bolt across the city at a dead sprint if you want to come with us instead."

He glanced at Seri with a frown.

"She's got a point too," he added. "It may be better for him to learn to keep up now, rather than when it's important."

(Written by Script and Tiko)

"Do you really want to be seen with a house cat tailing you?" Seri folded his arms and raised an skeptical eyebrow at Bastien. "I thought the idea was to show people that you still mean business. Not to give them a hearty morning laugh."

"Hey, we let Jesse run with us," Bastien retorted as he started to pull his own shirt off. "Just try to look menacing. You know, like one of those Aanarian forest cats?"

Seri rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Just as long as you don't expect me to stick to you like glue. My favoured routes involve a little more parkour than they do playing chicken with cars." Setting the gun back down and mumbling something about wasted effort, he pulled his clothes off again and shifted.

Quinn glanced at Connor, shrugging. "Guess we're on foot after all." She remarked, before beginning to disrobe herself.

"Aye, see you later eh Brendan? Can catch up 'n all when there's less to be done, I guess." With a final smile, Connor stepped away to get ready to shift himself.

Before long the two Iverians had joined Julienne and Bastien in assuming their wolf shapes. Connor's, the pack had seen last night - a bulky, and surprisingly large black wolf . Quinn's wolf shape came close to rivalling Desmond's for size. Once shifted, the two of them made their way outside with Seri.

Raquette snatched the money out of the air in one smooth motion, her eyes widening slowly as she looked to Ragenard, betraying her surprise. It wasn't as if she was unwilling to do this for the pack, in fact it was an easy enough task to go out and do shopping...but some part of her still expected to be treated as 'Pup', just like always. Not sent out the day after the craziness with a new set of responsibilities. She looked at the money in her hand and then to the pile of guns. Ragenard expected her to arm herself, also, that was clear.

There was a shakiness to her gaze as she tried to decide what she should be grabbing for, then there was a flash of memory behind her eyes. Nieve's house-her home-up in flames in the night. A surge of heat and anger flashed through her and her hands instinctively clenched as she shoved the money in the borrowed pair of Snow's shorts. She glanced at Sophia, hoping the girl would only register that as a squeeze of reassurance or something similar and Raquette herself managed a small smile, pulling out her phone from the same pocket.

She typed out the message swiftly, then carefully trying to convey the emotionality of the words with her body language as the mechanical voice echoed out. "It sounds like we will be going to get some fresh air and buy some things, Sophia. We might even get a treat, if you behave really well, okay?" Raquette smoothed down some of the girl's red hair with another smile, before straightening up and guiding the girl towards Re'Altarm. She paused just next to the woman and gave Sophia a motion to stay put before darting back to the pile of guns and picking up a handgun and ammo with only the slightest of hesitations before all but running back to Sophia's side.

Her eyes went to Re'Altarm once her hand was back in Sophia's, looking to her expectantly for direction as to their needed list.

---

As some of her kin moved off, Fiona took up the space near Brendan, throwing her arms around his neck in a tight hug. She'd already scooped up a gun while they'd been chatting and was putting up a good front on not being intimidated at all by all this city pack business. "I've missed ye, an' I'd rather like to talk yer ear off, but I suppose that's gonna wait, eh?" she rambled quickly, a tinge of nervousness in her tone.

Fiona coughed and backed up from Brendan, shooting him one of her huge smiles as she positioned herself closer to Kian and Skye. "Cascatel," she stumbled over the name, "awaits us, I suppose. Though, it's against my nature to be as sneaky as I suspect I'll need be. I'll rely on you two to keep me in tow," she joked weakly, smoothing down her curly mane.

"Absolutely not, out of the question," replied Ragenard to Aimee, an incredulous look on his face. "Ignoring the fact that you're wounded and just a pup, I don't trust you to not get impulsive and cock things up, we don't know what we'll find." With a firm shake of his head for emphasis he strode off towards Kian, preemptively disregarding what he was sure would be a tantrum from the young werewolf.

A glance at Kian's face told him that the Iverian had a pretty good idea of why he'd be denied his request, but while Ragenard wanted to make sure he unequivocally understood why, he also wanted to make sure he understood the reasoning wasn't callously dismissive of the man's brother.

"No," he replied flatly to the worried Iverian.

"Would you ask me the same question if this were Iveria? It was your decision to come here, and his to follow I presume. The very reason you'd diminish his part with your worry is his greatest protection," he explained, briefly lapsing into his Iverian accent for emphasis. "This is Lutetia where everything y'ere fearin' goes on, an' everyone who lives 'ere knows it. They don't know Iveria, I do."

He paused briefly to stare at the man in the eyes before continuing, "Your presence alongside him would be far more dangerous. Every one of the Scions would be on the look out for rival werewolves, and you're used to living in a carefree world where you're accepted as you are in your community. Were you to go with him, the slightest misstep, like reacting to a scent too strongly or bumping into a bystander too hard would get you outed and you'd both be dead.
"But a lone human? why would they in a thousand years expect us to think they're of any use that blatantly? This is Lutetia, you don't give weak human trash a job like that. And that's why he's safer without you," he said with a glance at Seamus.

"Welcome to the big city," he finished before turning towards Chloe. "Shit, I kinda assumed you'd be stuck to the good for nothing. For now, why don't you make sure the cousins get a quick lowdown of the Scion situation and a crash course in hood geography?" he said, gesturing her to come join the Iverians who'd be setting off to Scion territory.

"After that, you can hang out here for the day and supervise. Make sure the louts are actually cleaning and not holding each other and crying or something. After things are set up I'll figure out what to best set you to," he concluded.

Aimee couldn’t fault Ragenard for his dismissal and refusal to let her accompany them. Thus far she had shown that she was nothing more than a drunk who tended to jack things up. Case in point, the den. But, that was her father out there and she needed to help find him. There would be no way in hell she could just stick around the med center while everyone else went out and did this and that. She was sick and tired of the four walls and the stuffiness the building seemed to exude. Exhaling deeply to calm herself down as he walked over towards someone she didn’t know, Aimee waited for him to finish up before she stepped up to him.

“You’re right, Ragenard. I have cocked things up thus far and have shown that I’m a screw-up, but I deserve a second chance. If you tell me to run, I will run. If you tell me to shoot, I will shoot. You’re the boss, man. I deserve another chance and that’s my father out there. You said that we’re all needed to nut up and be ready to get down and dirty and that includes everyone. Last I checked, I’m still part of the pack, so that pertains to me as well. It’s time for me to grow up and start acting like a part of the pack instead of riding on the coattails of my father. I can do it, Ragenard. Please.” Aimee was surprisingly calm, but was very serious at her need to be accepted into the pack and being allowed to do more than hold up the walls of the med center.

"Don't worry about me so much, eh?" Seamus spoke up towards Kian. "I'll be fine. It'll be broad daylight, an' like 'e said. Far as anyone can tell, I'm just another tourist," Seamus said. "Besides. I didn't come all this way just to be babysat," he snorted before throwing his brother a grin. "An' you'll cramp my style," he added with a wink.

Re'Altarm watched the silent woman grab her weapon and once she returned, she moved to grab her own. She checked the chamber and grabbed her ammo, and was already loading another clip as she walked back to Raquette. She could feel the nervous energy from the woman, and although she'd undoubtedly had seen and possibly used the weapon before, it was evident that she wasn't exactly thrilled with using one.

Not that the woman blamed her. Re'Altarm had come to this city in the hopes she'd never have to use one again herself.

"Don't worry. I have your back." She said quietly in her thick accent, pulling back the slide on the gun and loading it truly.

---

Kian scowled. "Actually, I would.." He uttered, but Skye elbowed him and gave him the look that suggested he'd better not start up an argument. Kian sighed and shook his head at his brother. "Ye wouldn't 'ave a style if it weren't for me, you bugger." He smirked. "Just don't get caught. I don't wanna feel obligated to come o'er there and beat up some pussies to bail ya out." He rolled his eyes jokingly and punched Seamus in the arm hard, but his heart wasn't in it. The worry lines were formed around his eyes.

---

Chloe nodded. "I'll do the best I can." She had only frankly been in the city a few months herself. "And I'll make sure the boys aren't slackin'." She added, failing at mocking the Iverian accent.

Ragenard turned at the sound of Aimee's voice, ready to deny her again. He paused for a moment, eyeing her carefully. It seemed the tantrum he expected wasn't forthcoming. As she spoke, he paid close attention to her stance and body language, trying to look for a chink in her resolve.

Finding none in what seemed an earnest attempt at stepping up, he pondered his decision.

I did expect them to show more grit didn't I? Can't expect them to do that without the chances to do it, he thought.

With a reserved sigh he replied, "Fine. But if you fail me again, I'll tie you up to a bed. I say jump, you ask how high. Go get a couple extra mags and wait for me with Draaven and Snow. I got something to take care of first."

He then moved off towards his room, now that everyone knew what they had to do, it was time to make a phone-call.

As Snow and Draaven reached the armory, Draaven noted the awkward silence between the two but mistakenly accredited it to his long absence. No doubt his abrupt return would cause some awkward adjustments.

"How's Nieve doing?" he asked in an effort to break the ice.

Snow had just put his hand on the handle of the armoury's door when Draaven spoke, and his grip tightened as he tensed in what was just barely recognisable as a flinch. He held his hand there in silence for a long moment, as though lost for what to say.

When he finally did speak, it was without looking up, and with a cold matter-of-factness that ill befit the subject. "She died during the raid on the casino. A vampire got the better of us. Of her."

Turning the handle, he stepped into the armory and occupied himself with scanning the racks within for a suitable weapon.

"Duly noted. Thank you." Aimee watched him walking off before she moved back towards where she grabbed the first two mags and grabbed a few more. Momentarily disappearing back to the room she had been resting in, she grabbed her jacket and slid it on before placing the extra mags into a pocket that was easily accessible. Nodding a bit, the teen moved back out into the main room, glancing around for Snow and Draaven before just moving to the door to wait for them and Ragenard to return.

Do.Not.Fuck.This.Up. Aimee chanted in her head over and over again, tired of being treated like nothing more than a complete and total fuck up. Being sober did have its perks, it seemed. Never before had her resolve been this strong and she hoped it remained that way for the duration.

as written by Tiko and Script

"Shit man, I'm sorry. A vampire though? Working with the Scions?" Draaven asked. "How many of them are even still around? Guess some things do change. How are the church bucket-heads handling it?"

"By blaming it on us, as you'd expect," Snow snorted humourlessly as he picked a shotgun down from one of the racks and slung it on. "Can't have people thinking that the bloodsuckers are back in any number and causing trouble that they can't handle, so official line is that there's been a lot of 'werewolf' attacks in the last few weeks, without any rogues that we know about to pin them on."

"Huh, I drove past a church on my way here that the police were pulling bodies out of," he said. "It looked like a blood bath. Something didn't smell right about. I thought vampire, but last I was here there hadn't been any vampire attacks in what, forty years?"

"Yeah. Major ones, at least." Snow shrugged. "There's been the odd bloodsucker turning up here and there, but not in any numbers." He grimaced. "And certainly not working with the Scions. Something must be drawing them back."

Draaven shook his head at that news. "Alright, well let's get back out to the others. I'm already packing," he explained. "I have a shotgun outside with my bike also."

(as written by Dashmiel and Tiko)

Ragenard entered his room slowly, his thoughts buzzing with the possibilities that could emerge from this. He grabbed Baron’s cellphone from the nightstand next to the bed and sat down as the bed let out a heavy squeal at his weigh.

With some measure of trepidation he turned the phone on and flipped through the contacts. The last received call wasn’t a saved number, and it was the only time that number had called.

“Burner probably. Hmmm. Informant maybe? But then why call Baron’s main phone? He’s not dumb enough to have them call it...unless it was an emergency...found out and immediately had to...or got told to...or...bah, fuck this, I’ll ask the fucker myself,” he growled to himself before hitting to redial.

The phone began to ring.

“Yo, James, what’s up?” a crackling voice came from the other end of the line.

“Wrong Guiscard. Know who I am?” he replied.

“Oh hey, you’re the brother, right? What can I do for you today?”

“You a biz partner or just his boyfriend?”

"Just the odd job here and there."

“Alright. Got to inquire a bit about a past job. Something was off with the shipment. Where’s your office?”

"Uh, sure. Can't take visitors at the office though. I get off at five, there's a cafe off Third and Grove. You know it?"

Cafe in Rowan’s backyard. Interesting, he thought.

“Yeah, I know it. Be there at six with the invoice. My associate and I will already be in the premises.”