IC: EVENT

[bossman]

A TERRIBLE THING IS HAPPENING

reference books detailing myths and legends stolen from libraries...
wikipedia pages wiped clean from the face of the internet...
ancient stained glass windows smashed and destroyed...
historical research centers burnt to the ground...

Someone out there is trying very, very hard to erase all of the possible sources of power and belief of the ancient gods and goddesses. And it hurts. Whilst the powers of the minders are unharmed by the attacks, the gods and goddesses will be certainly feeling the toll: it's now painfully clear that even the simplest of miracles are now becoming almost impossible to perform.

deities, you had better have gifted your minders with some decent blessings! Because now you're going to rely on them more than ever. Someone is out to get you.

Comments

[vanagandr]

[ The howl of a wolf in pain is not one that's often found in the city, but it's one that's echoing tonight. Fenrir had been walking along, minding his own fucking business, when he collapsed onto his knees and changed back to a wolf against his will. First instinct had been to call for his pack, and so he did, picking a place in an alley to wait until they arrive. ]

[molted]

[Maybe if he'd been inside, he still would've heard that howl, part of the whole minder gig, but he can't help but feel lucky he was outside for it - heard it through the night air and knew it was Fenrir. His first instinct is to change to wolf himself, but he contains it, knows it might be faster but one wolf inexplicably running around the city streets was enough.

He's been with Fenrir long enough to be fast enough on human feet, following the source of the howl until he was at the alley, skidding to a stop and not bothering to catch his breath before he started looking and trying to see where the doomwolf was hurt.]

Fen? What's wrong?

[vanagandr]

[ There's a growl at first, eyes pinning back against his head, but then the wolf pauses. He recognizes that scent, and it's enough to have him whine. That scent means pack, and so he shifts forward, enough that some of the light from the street can hit him.

He's smaller than usual, the size of a normal wolf instead of the larger form he usually takes just because he can. Physically, there don't seem to be any injuries, but his eyes are hurt and scared. Glancing around, Fenrir takes a few steps forward, leaning against the leg of his master minder. Kelly's safe. Kelly's pack. ]

[molted]

[Already concerned from the howl, Kelly's mind races, quickly cataloguing all the things wrong with the situation. Fenrir's too small, had growled at him, not speaking, looking scared and the way he presses against Kelly's legs is not the usual pack-companionship, but something like seeking comfort. There doesn't appear to be any physical injury, but that just pushes Kelly's worry up higher - it took a lot to hurt Fenrir, but he could be patched up, healed. Kelly has no idea what this is, and that leaves a cold drop of helplessness to grow in his stomach.

He crouches down, pushing fingers into Fenrir's fur.]

Can you tell me what's going on?

[vanagandr]

[ No, he can't. He doesn't know. All he knows is that something is wrong, very wrong, and it hurts and he's scared in a way he hasn't been since he was a pup and Odin came for them. Fenrir whines, words unable to come out as anything other than wolf-sounds, and then whines again in frustration before tucking his head around Kelly's neck. This is safe, this is pack. Kelly is smart -- he'll figure something out. ]

[molted]

[No responses except a few sounds and whines, and Kelly wrestles his alarm down, keeps it steady and cool - where it can be used, instead of overwhelming him.]

Okay. [He strokes at Fenrir's fur some more, comforting.] You can walk, right? We can figure this out at home.

[vanagandr]

[ At the question, the wolf steps back, nodding where Kelly can see it. He can do that much, at least. There's a shift to pad toward the entrance of the alley, but then Fenrir pauses, turning to return to Kelly's side. He leans against his leg, glancing up. They'll look less suspicious if he stays close to Kelly (like a dog, ugh), for one, but he's also just glad his master minder is here. ]

[molted]

[Kelly straightens up, taking a breath and running a hand back through his hair, surprised for a moment by Fenrir returning to his side. The reasoning why clicks quickly enough, though, and he nods, turns to head out of the alley.

He can't actually remember how he got to the alley, had been too busy following his gut instinct, but he hopes Fenrir still has his nose, at least.]

[vanagandr]

[ Oh, he certainly has his nose. Even now, he's well aware that he's the dominant one, and he takes the lead -- not enough for anyone to look twice, but enough to guide Kelly back to the apartment they've claimed as their own. Tense as he is, Fenrir doesn't stop himself from growling at anyone who gets too close until they get there. ]

[assailant]

[ The text comes from Kelly later and overall demand is simple and to the point: get home and get there quick. Earlier that day, Polly had gotten an odd gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach while she wiped down tables at the bar, but she'd dismissed it the way a person shrugs off the shivers and just assumes somebody somewhere is just talking trash about them. But, try as hard as Polly had, she hadn't been able to shake that creeping itch in the back of her brain, like her hackles kept trying to prick up but the part of her that was more woman than wolf wouldn't listen.

That's how she knows, when the text comes, not to ask questions and not fuck around. She's there in the apartment when they return, Kelly leaving Polly to look to Fenrir for at least a short while. (There are questions that need answering and gods that are panicking.) Polly drops to her knees in front of the wolf, a pale arm outstretched. ]

Hey.

[vanagandr]

[ He's nervous like he hasn't been in a long time, very much a wild animal instead of the god-wolf he's supposed to be. Being in a place that smells familiar, with people that smell familiar, is helping -- barely. But that doesn't change the fact that he can't change (can barely remember what that means) or the fact that he hasn't said a word in English or even Old Norse since Kelly found him.

Black paws move him forward, and a cold, wet nose sniffs at Polly's hand before Fenrir pushes his muzzle into it. There's still intelligence in his eyes, but there's fear, too -- fear and pain. He whines once, pleading, and steps closer to press his head against her. ]

[assailant]

[ There's relief in finally knowing that this is what it was — that horrible feeling in her gut like fight or flight only a thousand times worse (only frightening instead of empowering, only helpless). There's relief, quickly followed by the sick realization that this is bad — no, this is very bad — and Polly isn't entirely sure what she can do to stop it.

When the wolf pushes his nuzzle against the hollow of her outstretched hand she inches forward across the floor, fingers curling into the fur at the nape of Fenrir's neck. Like this he's smaller than he ought to be and that makes Polly both anxious and angry in turns. She makes a small whining noise in the back of her throat and hope it's enough for him to understand.

Polly's here. You're wolf-girl's here. Tell me what to do, who to fight, where to run. I'll do it, Big Bad, I will. ]

[vanagandr]

[ Ears prick forward slightly at the whine and he whines in return, nuzzling into her neck. He's safe here, she's pack, she'll take care of him. But he can't tell her to do anything, not like this -- not in a way she'll understand. Speech beyond any sort of communication that animals can do is currently beyond him, and he paws at her with another whine.

If she wants to talk to him, it might be better to do it as a wolf. She's pack. She can do that. He just can't get the words to come, no matter how much he tries -- it all comes out like whines and yips and growls. ]

[assailant]

[ The sounds that Fenrir's making are just that — sounds — and although empathy or something like it gives each of those noises a feeling or sentiment, Polly can't quite understand what it all means. She pats the side of his neck, rubbing at the thick fur for a moment, her attention turned away to the door of the apartment. Maybe she should call Kelly but then decides against it. If she was going to be a master one day then she needed to learn this shit, right? How to look after Fen, how to make her own decisions. ]

Okay, okay, [ Polly Q murmurs and it's as much to him as it is to herself.

Dipping her head low, her shoulders lift up behind her — lift then narrow then grow thick with bristling white and brown fur. A girl, then a wolf-girl, then simply a wolf. Tipping her head back she gives a mournful little howl.

Hurry the fuck back, Kelly. ]

[vanagandr]

[ One day she'll be able to transform faster -- not as seamlessly as Fenrir can on a normal day, Fenrir who can be on two legs one minute and then four as soon as you blink -- but without much of an in-between. It amuses him, in some ways, to know that he and his have caused a great deal of speculation, legends about werewolves and the like. He doesn't think about it now, though, the wolf watching as she changes with a tilted head.

And then she's a wolf, and Fenrir's tail starts to wag -- slowly at first, but soon it's going back and forth and he's jumping toward her to lick her face. She's pack and she's here and like this she can understand him, he knows it. But first he needs to get his relief out, so there's licking and nuzzling and tail wagging. ]

[ofvictory]

[insert four hundred text messages here.]