entrancelogs | Child of the Moon [Semi-Open]

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Child of the Moon [Semi-Open]

Who: Ruby Lucas and Semi-Open (see here for how to get involved)
Where: Outside, the woods
When: Wednesday, April 24 - Friday, April 26, nighttime
Warnings: Mature rating for language, angst gore, graphic descriptions of death and violence and things being eaten
Summary: Ruby has the tiny problem of wolfing out during the three nights of the full moon. Given her current lack of control while in wolf form, this makes her a bloodthirsty, pony-sized monstrosity. Let's see how wrong this can possibly go.
The Story:

When Ruby walks into the woods with Daryl, she's on edge. A few days ago, she tried to warn people on the network to stay away from the woods. No matter what happens, whether she can somehow wrestle back a semblance of control or not, everything will be fine so long as she can trust that Daryl is the only person out there, too. He can watch out for himself, after all - if by some unfortunate incident she goes after him, he is competent enough to either kill her or make a run for it and survive.

It will be okay.

She walks with her arms wrapped around herself tightly, occasionally glancing at Daryl, nervous. Being a wolf is part ofher, and it's not a part she likes to be afraid of. Long ago, she managed to overcome that, to embrace being a wolf, gaining control and confidence in the process. The curse has messed with her transformation, though, and the further the sun sinks towards the horizon, the more something wild and untamed tries to claw itself to the surface of her mind, the more she can be certain that control is out of the question no matter how hard she fights for it.

And Ruby has no idea just how wrong everything will go, now. Just a few short hours from now, she will be prowling the woods as a massive wolf, her own conscious drowned out by the beast's own mind as it's on the hunt. Fair warning: Nothing is quite safe from the jaws of this beast.

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As soon as she realises what is going to happen, River's mind is made up. For whatever reason they're going to hunt her, so River needs to protect Ruby. She can't let that promise be broken, not even if there is a danger in being out during the night. There's no other option for her.

She's not unarmed, either. It's not one she's used before, but propped against the tree a little distance away is an axe. It's small enough to be carried with one hand, but she's not leaving it on the floor for that. She doesn't want to hurt people. She's not trying to, but if it comes to it...

...Well, she's done worse.

[[ooc: open to defenders and hunters alike, for fighting/plotting how best to keep everyone safe/such and such! It should be noted that River will happily beat your character up to no end if she thinks they are a threat to Ruby, but she won't be killing anyone this time around. ]]

Along similar lines, when Valjean got wind of what was happening, he decided he has to do something to help, even if doing so means throwing caution to the winds and getting himself involved in something that he never thought would be an event in his life.

But in any case, he makes his way to the woods with a loaded gun in one hand. He hopes that he will not have to use it against another person, but being prepared is better than the alternative.

It isn't long before he spots River, and the axe against the tree. It seems that she came prepared too. He clears his throat, not too loudly to be irritating, but loud enough to announce his presence.

Edited 2013-04-25 17:35 (UTC)

Whale was not a fighter, persay. But neither was he going to sit idly by while Ruby was in danger. This already happened once in Storybrooke and she didn't need it happening again. He took a pistol with him and headed out to do what he could against this crazy woman, and whoever else was trying to hurt Ruby.

He didn't recognize the other two who were standing for Ruby but he was glad she had supporters.

"Good evening for it, isn't it?" he remarked casually. As if angry mobs were a normal thing for him... which they were.

Enter Blake, just in time to reply. "Wouldn't say any evenin's good for somethin' like this," he remarked, his voice quiet and tight. Unarmed, he took note of the others and their weapons. Two guns and an ax? It adds to the insistent frown on his face. Subduing pretty much anything is that much more difficult with the weapons these people chose.

He tipped his head to Valjean, who he remembers fondly enough. And it was instinct more than anything for him to close in and stand next to River — a protective nature born of at least one or two small battles in an overall war. Who he didn't know was Whale, so John kept a wary eye open, but nodded to him as well. Truthfully, he was so uncertain of the motivations of those surrounding him, he couldn't help but ask, plainly and clearly, "What's the intention here? Like to know that before things get goin' too far..."

She's understandably defensive as people start to approach, waiting on an angry mob doesn't exactly lend itself to dealing with strangers particularly well, but their intentions are good. She knows that much. They're here to help, to protect, and for that at least River's glad. She's faced worse odds before, but that was in her world. Here? Who knows what people are hiding behind ordinary faces and outward appearances.

It's not until Blake speaks that she actually responds though, with a slight smile and a nod of her head. She knows more of him than anyone else around her, after all. When he stops by her side she doesn't even bother to point out that she probably needs the least amount of protecting here - people will think what they want to think, her protests won't change that.

"They want to kill the wolf. Meg and her band of merry men have found an enemy and drawn a target. Some do not know, some do not care, but she's a friend."

"Get that, yeah." He nodded to River, appreciative enough for the summation. It was troubling to think people in the mansion would take to arms so quickly, but he'd keep his concern to himself. Instead, John opted for something dealing in a little more perspective. "Wanna just mention, it's people we're dealin' in here — people we're sharing space and kinda common enemies otherwise. Peaceable or close'd be best."

See, he wasn't taking sides per se, but hoping instead to entreat those gathered into thinking before using those weapons to an ultimate end, whether people have a ticket back or not. Staying out of the fray would probably be out of the question considering the alarming circumstances, but Blake's hoping — no, urging them to be cautious about the severity of their actions and the subsequent consequences. In any case, it was better said early, so it could sink in a bit.

"Well, well. Is this the magical wall of friendship protection I've been expecting?"

And that would be Meg appearing, sword in hand and arm intact. For the most part, anyway. She won't be throwing any pitches with that arm at least another twenty four hours, but she got a little healing to give her some strength. Anyway, who has time to wait when there's conflict afoot?

She'll have a nice eye roll at the group assembled. Please.

"I've got an idea. You guys go west, I'll go east. The first one to find it wins a gold star!"

Blake found that he couldn't loosen a single muscle as Meg spoke. He felt tightly wound, utterly stiff with the prospect of this battle drawing lines right through the middle of Wonderland. He did his best to appear loose, but his voice held enough gruffness to give him away.

"Think about what you're doing here," he implored, and while the statement might be perceived as entreating, it had no emotion to it. The cold, solid attitude behind it spoke more of practicality than anything else. "Kinda thing like this doesn't go away — doesn't stop. Know you're ticked 'bout what happened, but even you've gotta see the way this is gonna complicate things. We're lookin' to live as peaceably as possible and turn our sights against the real enemies..." Not that there wasn't a serious threat tied in with Ruby's transformation. But that's easier dealt with than removed entirely from the scenario (only to be brought back again and again, possibly with a lot of vengeance).

This "mob" wasn't nearly as angry as Whale expected. At least Ruby wouldn't have to deal with that mess twice. He didn't really know anything about this woman trying to kill her, but he wouldn't hesitate in putting a bullet in the brain if she tried anything.

He'd go ahead and let everyone else do the talking, if that did any good at all.

Valjean's intention in being there was to lend a hand to those who wanted to protect Ruby. And if that could be done without spilling blood, that was even better. He was relaxed enough, since it seemed that cooler heads were going to prevail, at least until Meg showed up.

But, like Whale, he decided to leave the talking to the others, unless it became absolutely necessary to interject. Blake seemed to have the speaking part under control, so for the moment, he just stood by, watching and listening but ready to act if needed.

When John didn't get an immediate response, he took another step forward. It wsn't so much a gesture of trust as it was a measure of intent. If Meg had been feeling cornered, he would have tried for trust, but here it didn't matter. He wasn't going to immediately back down, and he wasn't going to immediately allow everyone to start taking whacks at each other.

"Work together, come up with a plan together, and in the end we'll all be satisfied. Can work," he urged, speaking to the group as a whole. "Know it can. Just gotta come to terms. Maybe this isn't the time to make judgement. Meg, be takin' it up with her when she's back in her right mind anyway, right? Wait it out. Just wait it out instead of goin' out there and gettin' torn up worse. Or inspirin' the people 'round here to tear you up instead."

Throughout the day, there's been an ever present anger burning inside her. She wants blood, and a handful of humans won't stop her from it. Now, though, irritation is putting a damper on that anger. She's done playing nice all the time.

She leans over, as if to see past the little group into the woods. Still dark and foreboding. No sign or sound of a wolf. "Yeah, not much of a team player." This is said while she leans back, raising her eyebrows. "I'm impressed, though. Everyone jumping to defend a monster's honor, don't see that much where I come from."

It's true enough. If she'd been human, the wolf would have killed her. It was by sheer luck she even managed to get away, but luck's always been her best friend. "I'm a firm believer in quid pro quo. And this is my version of it."

Whale couldn't help the slightest of smiles. He wasn't sure why the others were here, but he was here as a fellow monster.

"No one else seems to agree with you," Whale observed, glancing around meaningfully at the lack of support Meg had behind her. He was around magical beings too long to not think Meg was something out of the ordinary and thus probably didn't need the help, but the fact still remained that she stood alone.

_{((ooc: i know this might not be entirely realistic, but I'd prefer to keep this a 2 person thread if possible, as I find group threads really really hard to keep track of. Maybe the other defenders are...distracted. By other hunters, or something. I'm sorry ._.))}

There's a man approaching across the dark grass, moving with the tight-wound grace of an athlete before a game. His uniform is pristine white now, his bat clean and gleaming but for Ashley burned in script along its length.

His eyes are entirely hidden in the darkness under his hat, but there's a faint smile playing at his lips, thin and arrogant, but with some manic joy lurking just beneath the surface.

He peers at the girl as he draws close, determining that she is, to all appearances, human.

"You. Where is the wolf?"

[[ooc: that's totally fine! group threads are hard to keep track of sometimes when you're trying to get through a specific plot between two of them]]

Things haven't gotten too bad so far. Honestly, what with Meg's message she had been expecting a lot worse, so when the man initially approaches she doesn't react too much. Even when she sees the bat, she still doesn't question it too much. She's got a weapon of her own after all, there's no crime in defending yourself.

When he asks about the wolf though, she tenses instantly. So that's why he's here. It's subtle, but she definitely takes on a more defensive posture as she turns to face him, shoulders squaring slightly an hands slowly closing into fists.

"He thinks she'll sell out a friend so easy as that?" She frowns slightly, eyes briefly darting towards the axe she brought along. It's not too far, she could easily grab it if need be, but she doesn't want to jump straight to offensive. "No. He'll not have his hunt tonight."

"Oh, it's a friend of yours?"

His grip tightens around the handle of his bat. His teeth are showing; they're large teeth, straight and white, like little tombstones.

Edited 2013-04-27 02:06 (UTC)

"She. It is for objects, cattle. She is my friend."

River drops her gaze to the bat for a moment, and it's becoming more clear to her that she's probably not going to get through this with reasonable words. That's alright, talking hasn't been her strong point for quite a while now. She takes a careful, measured step backwards as she watches the stranger and his bat, then adds, "And she is protected."

With that point definitely made, she doesn't waste any more time being amicable. She just takes another quick step before turning and diving towards the weapon left abandoned on the floor behind her.

The Batter hesitates, then runs toward, bat cocked loose behind him in perfect casual athleticism, as if waiting for the pitch. His cleats dig into the soft earth, flinging up little clods of grass behind him, and if she's listening, she might hear his mind.

But it isn't thoughts she'll hear, at least not at first. Just faint whispering, the drift of smoke in a dark mine, the sensation of his fingers curled around the smooth wood of his bat.

And then, very faintly, Ah, ah, ah…

She's trying. Of course she's trying, because he's a threat and she doesn't take kindly to those. It's so hard to deliberately focus on anything though, least of all when all she wants to do is zone out and let the instincts trained into her take over. She can't though, she has to stay present. She's here to defend, to protect, not attack.

He's running after her though, so her immediate inclination to defend somewhat slips in favour of immediate self-preservation. She makes it to her weapon, grabs and swings without thought - but then she hears it and she falters just slightly. It's just for a second, but for that second she can hear that faint sound. The sudden interruption among the shadowy murmurs throw her enough that it gives her pause, and for a second all of those self preservation instincts grind to a halt as she stares.

He's close now. His feet leave the ground, and he raises his bat. The Ashley bat is a strange thing: swings once, strikes twice, smells of raw meat and new pennies, subtly different in their metallic tang. His face is a twisted, snarling mask, and the coldness is gone from his grey eyes; they're full of hate, now.

He's heedless of the axe. If she wanted to, she could easily strike him in the shoulder from this angle. Avoiding the bat presents its own challenge.

For just a split second, she'll see something, very brief, no more than an impression. Huge, empty white eyes, a long maw bristling with needle-sharp teeth.

And then it's gone, and there's just the Batter, swinging straight at her head.

Maybe zoning out would have been smarter. River the weapon would have taken that opening without hesitation. River the weapon would have swung the axe and taken off an arm without so much as blinking. River the weapon would have dipped under his swing, rolled away, taken him out and made the whole thing look like a beautiful, bloodstained dance.

She's chosen to stay present though, to remain in control above all else and fight hard to remain defensive. It's a defensive move when she stops the arc of her swing, adjusts to try and take out the bat instead. It's defensive when she steps back, lets the weapon fall from her hands when it misses its new target and prepares for a fist fight instead. It's defensive when she tries to weave out of the path of the bat, but she's not perfect.

It might have worked, if not for that brief flash of something entirely more awful than she's prepared to see. She stares, shocked, and it's only for a second but it's enough. She keeps moving forward, away, trying to get in close and out of the range of that bat but it's not enough. She doesn't get there fast enough and it connects all too solidly with it's target.

Crack. The impact shudders satisfyingly up his arms, and then again, bless the Ashley bat, and he lands with his knees bent to absorb the shock , looking down to see if she's still breathing. The bat is still at the ready, should she stand, but he's bent over her, grinning, showing too many large white teeth (but not those awful fangs of a moment ago) and oddly haloed by the full moon behind him in the sky.

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Child of the Moon [Semi-Open]

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Wanted to sneak this in here...

I see you there, you sneaky sneaker.

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Sneaking in here too, because I didn't forget about this thread. Nope.

Is this a thing we're still doing? 9_9

KIND OF it'll end soon though since Meg will just vamoose soon.

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heaven or hell, let's rock!!! [aka here there be murder]

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