Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Lutetia City: Bloodstone Medical Center

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."
 
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(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.”
 
With the phone call completed and the meeting scheduled, it was time to get ready to head out and seek out Jacques. Ragenard hoped he'd like what he found and that he wouldn't have to kill the man in front of his daughter. He also hoped Draaven hadn't gone soft on him in the intervening years.

Rummaging through his dresser, he picked out a pair of long olive cargo pants, and a simple tan muscle shirt to go along with his combat boots. He stuffed Baron's phone along with his own in one of the pants many pockets and picked up his baldric from where it hung at the head of the bead.

He gave his customized revolving hand-cannons a quick check to make sure all was in working order and gone over his rounds for them. He wasn't sure what he'd find out there, but the scuffle in the casino put him in mind that he'd best be ready for possible bloodsuckers back in town. To go along with his standard 12 gauge slug shells, he picked out half a dozen silver pellet shells (suppressing a sneeze as he did so) and his last three dragons-breath rounds and loaded them all on his baldric's ammo pouches.

His ancient Fae sword completed his armament, and he had a feeling it would come in handy when he caught up to the curmudgeonly Jacques.

He buckled up his baldric over his shirt and ran his hands over the inscribed runes while whispering in old Iverian, causing the magic upon it to render it invisible along with it's contents. He threw on an old brown leather jacket to help mask the bunching on his shirt, and shook out a cigarette as he left his room and went out to meet the others.

"Let's go. We'll have to set off on foot, I didn't hear an engine before Jacques dipped out, so we'll track him on foot," he said to the others as he lit up and walked out the Med Center doors.
 
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as written by Dashmiel, Faithy, Script and Tiko

Ragenard stood outside of the Med Center and quickly chain smoked half of his cigarette before discarding it. “Everybody ready?” he asked the assembled trio.

Aimee had been loitering by the door and the minute that Ragenard moved past her, she exhaled and stepped out as well, catching the moving by feet comment. Wrinkling her nose up with a slight shrug, she stretched out as much as her body as she could before nodding towards the bossman. “I’m good to go.” Hopefully they found her father alive and not knee-deep in shit or worse.

Snow nodded wordlessly by way of response, pushing off of the wall on which he’d been leaning and moving to join them.

Draaven meanwhile unholstered his shot-gun from his bike and slung it over his shoulder by the strap.

“I’m still getting up to speed on things, so just to be clear,” Draaven said. “Are we packing for Jacques, or for trouble along the way?”

The inter pack violence is what had prompted his departure in the first place, but neither did he hold much love for Jacques. Still, it was a sobering moment to realize that in ten years, that aspect of pack life may still not have settled.

“We’re hoping for the best, and preparing for the worst,” replied Ragenard grimly. “It’s a bad time for Jacques to have vanished on us, and I got word from Baron that things might have gone south thanks to one of our own, so, I’m hoping for the latter but will handle the former if it comes to that.”

He took a few seconds to stretch out his muscles and scent the air a few times, clearing his nose out of smoke. He caught a mixture of scents from virtually everyone who had been at the Med Center, and slowly walked away from the building until they thinned out.

“Hey Aimee, give me a hand, see if you can sniff your dad’s shitty musk with me.”

“No way. No way he would do something like that.” Aimee was hoping and praying she was right because she didn’t want to have her father killed in front of her or kicked out of the pack, though with that kind of treason, she knew it would be death only. Frowning, but keeping the rest of her thoughts together she stepped up beside Ragenard and inhaled deeply, slowly releasing the breath in order to calm her nerves and help her focus. She ran fingers through her hair before faintly picking up on her father’s scent. “There… I think I got it. South of here, I’m pretty certain.” It was clear this wasn’t something she was used to doing, but it still came naturally.

“Good job, that’s definitely him. Got it locked now,” he said, briefly patting the young woman on a shoulder. “And try to relax, I’m sure your old man will have a good if monumentally stupid explanation. Keep cool and don’t freak out if me and him get belligerent, it’s what us old people do.

“Alright guys, let’s go, looks like we’re headed south.”

“I hope you’re right, Ragenard. I’ll try and keep in mind that old farts like to get belligerent with each other.” Aimee grinned a little, wishing that her stomach didn’t hurt as much as it did. It wasn’t easy to relax, not with everything that was happening, but she also didn’t want to mess up anything.
 
Hearing his name, the chubby half-Losenyu man flinched. So this was it. He was part of this now. Hubert Kim, part of a werewolf gang. No one expected this, least of all him.

Heaving a sigh, he jogged over to Re'Altarm and Raquette, giving them a small wave and a wan smile. "I, uh. Hi," he said meekly. "I-I-I, uh. I'm new. My name is Hubert."
 
Raquette juggled around her handful items until she once again had her phone in hand, her other grasped around Sophia's as she straightened up to look to other two in the eyes.

She typed a quick response for the both of them. She looked to Re'Altarm first, "Thank you." Then quickly shifted her gaze to Hubert as the electronic voice continued on. "I'm called Raquette." She shifted her stance and looked to Re'Altarm expectantly, she was eager to get moving. To get out of the Center for a while.
 
Brendan’s cheeriness slipped away with his family as soon as he let go of Fiona. He wished those who left farewell with a more stern “stay safe” – a phrase that he threw around quite often, but he rarely said it with such conviction.

As the room grew emptier with clothes hitting the floor and shifts beginning, Brendan took his turn to pick at the remaining guns. He preferred to rely on his teeth and claws. He knew they were sharp. Still, he took his time rummaging as the tension grew some.

“Alright” he said, straightening up after filling his pockets and tucking the handgun into the back of his jeans “looks like I ain’t really missing a day of work after all, just no pay eh?”

Finally, he raised his eyes to look at Desmond. There was no real hostility there anymore, but a close look would give a definite read of ‘I wish I was anywhere else’.

“There’s a chemical cupboard down the corridor, I’ll get you what you need… It’s not so easy to get off pavement, so, er, hope you got some sleep. I’ll bring it out to you.” Cass said, heading straight for the door, not expecting a thank you. She’d been lingering by the bag of weapons without touching any of it. She was pretty useless most of the time, but she had cleaned up a lot of blood stains in her life. And a lot of guns.

She wanted to leave, but knew there was no chance of getting away with that. Already, she was hoping no one would ask where she’d been on the night of the attack. They were already under a huge magnifying glass that didn’t need to be brought any closer due to suspicion. Best to keep out of the way, especially since she was certain their new leader with the stupid name didn’t like her very much. Not that Baron did either.

Brendan shrugged as she left the room.

“Let’s go” he said, “and you ain’t driving nothin', brother."
 
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