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Cast  • Alistair Lurk Tiarnan Frances Desitarious

Date  • 2020-06-17

Summary  • Vampires investigate unsavory things going down at the zoo.


Washington Park Zoo. Shenanigans. They've been going down here. Some of you have already faced weirdness here, in fact. And you're back for more!

The zoo is closed. As in, closed during the day, as well. Despite the fact that the pandemic has poofed here (and is poofing at large), the zoo officials have decided for some mysterious reason to just not open up again quite yet, citing various excuses that include less staff to run things now, to sick monkeys, to red tape with the local government. They announced formally they would reopen next Monday.

So, everything is dark. It's not quit, though. Zoo animals are yapping and howling, but that seems mostly normal. Regular sounds from nocturnal species.

What is not normal however, for a closed zoo, are the vehicles parked outside of it in the staff parking area. Two Praga V3Ss.

The 'meet up' place as they designated ahead of time, gives them a nice vantage to overlook the zoo and said Praga V3Ss. Tiarnan is already there, low and well enough away to be out of sight without needing to be stealth just yet. He waits for the others to arrive as planned all while he is scouting everthing out. Taking note of how the place is closed, his gaze lingers on the vehicles, trying to decide if they are still in them or not.

Alistair and Lurk arrive as a pair. This is mostly because they're using Obfuscate in tandem together and thus must arrive as a group - that way Obfuscate does not randomly decide to vanish. Rather than drop out of Obfuscate and reveal everything, Alistair instead opts to reach into his robes, fumble about for a moment, and produce some salt.

Which he promptly tosses to the ground, letting the salt scatter across the ground. You know. Random heavy duty salt just randomly appears. Or it's a signal that there's some weirdo hanging around nearby in Obfuscate.

Desitarious is armed to the fucking teeth and walking with the swagger of a guy that knows he's got a knife in his hand as he walks up a to drunk that owes him money. A little cocky, perhaps? No, no. He knows anyone that can see him right now will be able to see him if he's sneaking, because that's just how he works. When he gets close to Tiarnan, he ducks into a little somersault and tumbles to the man's flank; staring out at a different direction as he has one hand lightly placed against the ground and the other outstretched to the side in low position. Clearly he expects things to go wrong any moment and is not the hard-swagger fuckboy that just rolled up hard. "Howdy, Sheriff." Oh the drawl he affects. "I hear ya'll got yerselfs a sit-wation up in hyah. I've come to establish a cordon and vivisectate the enemy-foes to death." He sucks in a breath he doesn't need as his eyebrows push up in the middle. "Please tell me someone here is less of a bitch about using fire than I am." He looks at Tiarnan pointedly. "Are you a fire-bitch? I'm a fire-bitch."

Skittering by that pile of dusty salt, Frances-rat will 'announce' her own presence by taking that salt pile and spreading it around as if to hide it.. nothing to see here, nothing purposeful in that salt, newp don't look over here asshole ghouls. She'll then sit on her hind legs and being the process of 'grooming' her whiskers. See, normal rat, nothing to see here, just hanging out here at night planning their next move, twitching nose and whiskers.

Alistair freezes in place. His heart thumps a few times, before it too is stilled as the headlights flash over in his direction. There's a visible (or not) flinch from the fact that the Nosferatu is fully Obfuscated, but there remains the fact that he apparently takes a dislike to the headlights. He simply settles in place as they go past, waiting to see who shows up. He probably should have brought like. A bat. Or a brick. Or something.

Salt? Salt just suddenly goes fwoosh and lands in a pile on the ground. Tiarnan glances aside in the general direction he thinks the seasoning came from, just in time for Desi to roll up. Literally. Then there is the rat. With a brief glance at Desi and his mention of fire, the Dead Wolf replies, "I hope that is everybody showing up." He glances back down at the vehicles and notes, "If those belong to the ghouls then they are already inside. We need to see if we can slip in and listen, see what we can learn. I'll provide overwatch. Rat, try finding a way inside without getting eaten." He nods to Desi, "Check the vehicles to see if there is anything we can get from them. Plates, registration, anything..." Then to those who aren't there, "Spread out and see what else you can find. I'll..." ANd yes, headlights. Just then he shifts into a golden eagle and takes flight.

VRRROOOOM... chugchugchug. The truck that is pulling into the staff parking is larger than the other ones and a little longer. It's not American -- and it's not Czech. But it's some sort of military vehicle, by the look of it. It pulls in and parks, huffing and puffing like a great metal beast of some age as it grinds to a halt. The driver side opens and a woman with black hair hops out. She's dressed in camo that is also not American, but close enough in color. And she's pissed off, and screaming in a foreign language at the guy that gets out from the passenger side, who is dressed in a Megadeth t-shirt and a pair of ratty jeans. "Yeah, yeah," he replies. "Whatever. That shit was not my fault, okay? I'm not a doctor!" They both pull toddler-sized automatic weapons from the vehicle and start down the path towards a back entrance into a nondescript building.

"'Check the vehicles?'" The look Desitarious gives Tiarnan is skeptical and amused. "Why the fu- Oh sure. Yeah. Just..." He flops an arm out and up towards the sky. "Fly like an eagle into the sea or whatever. Fuck. My. Requiem." He walks over to the first car he sees and scoffs; kicking at the dirt. "What the fuck is he even talking about? Registration for what?" He grabs the door handle and opens it; fortunately the Civic has no alarm. They never do. Even if they have a blinking like it's just a fake to keep honest people honest. The lock in the door snaps and the door crumples outward as he glances inside; the dome light popping on and causing him to squint like it's bright. It isn't. "Which fucking thing's the registration?" He stops, sighs, and then grabs the side of the car; rocking it up onto two wheels with a few fingers as he looks under it, then dropping it back down into place with a little bounce. After he does so, he sees the registration plate on the inside of the door. "Oh, hey!" He snatches the thing, peels it right off the metal, and stuffs it in his pocket. "Jackpot, bitches." Hearing a vehicle approach, he pulls out a weapon in each hand and hunches down in a bush like he's about to take a shit while peeling an apple.

After those whiskers are juuuust right, Fratnces will scurry on over towards the zoo's pens themselves and dart headon into the predator cages. It's not like she's not been eaten before or been in worse bellies, besides she has a panther friend in here, she can go say hai if he's out otherwise all the sneakyness. Better to has as many exits covered as possible, the assholes will be delt with by others.


Alistair inhales as he tilts his head back, letting his nostrils flare beneath his mask as he sucks in a lungful of air. Then he pours it out of his nostrils. "Living." He states to Lurk, turning his head to look at Desi as he goes about relieving the vehicle of its identification. In a calm and collected fashion.

He shuffles his way up to Lurk, reaching out and pinching her sleeve once. "Come. We'll follow." He utters, before he straightens himself upright as he rolls his shoulders. "They smell alive. Move alive. Can't tell just yet for sure though." And with that, he's off on his jaunty little walk after the pair, hiking up the front of his robes so he doesn't trek too much muck.

For her part, Lurk ... lurks.

Apparently this is going to be her gift to the world tonight, keeping herself over here with the sleeve-pinching robe-wearing emo fellow where nobody can see her and her potentially freaky-deaky self. When he pinches at her sleeve, she huffs a sigh out through her nose, delicately reaching over and tugging the fabric free from his grasp.

She knows it'll be back.

"Right, well, you keep me apprised of what your elven eyes see ... and I'll..." Lurk gives a slow, tired blink, lifting her shoulders in a quick shrug as she glances about the area, then refocuses on those that're yelling. She takes a moment to watch Desitatious lift a car with all the struggle one would expect from doing the same with a hotwheels in the sandbox. Her lips purse. "... Alright..." She murmurs to herself, before turning and following along wherever Alistair might want to go.

Frances rat-scampers towards the predator enclosures, to find, very quickly... there are way fewer predators than before. Her old friend (?) the panther is there though, sleeping. It looks sick, though. Crusty eyes and wheezy breath.

Lurk and Alistair follow the couple into the building, which is at the back of a souvenir shop. They head down a flight of stairs, pass the employee break room, and into another hall, where there's an elevator. The woman punches the 'B' button. She's loudly tossing angry words in a florid language at her buddy, who has just shut up now and is rolling his eyes behind her.

Freaking EAGLE eyes. Tiarnan bird can see everything going on down below in the dim light as the other kindred scatter to each do their part. He knows Frances can handle herself, so he focuses on the new truck that pulls up with the lady. Has this lady with black hair been described before? Seems so. While he does not understand the language, being able to tell she is upset doesn't require a rocket surgeon. The golden eagle continues to circle, watching his people for any signs of trouble. He is better off way up in the sky because of his lack of any ability to stealth...and they might notice a sudden fog rolling in tonight. So he will keep overwatch and ready for shit to hit the fan.

Alistair looks positively giddy. If only by the fact that he's practically floating behind the pair of mortals. Perhaps there's a certain sort of sadistic glee to this for the Haunt. He has even stopped flinching at the lights that the pair have to handle while they follow the two mortals.

Of course, when the elevator door is pressed, he's standing beside them. It's natural the way he stands - as if he's spent countless, countless hours walking alongside groups of people. Without their knowledge. He does a remarkable job of making sure that his robes aren't stepped upon, and he'll filter in with them. He of course gestures Lurk to come with him.

There's an awful smell that Desitarious just can't ignore. He wants to. He turns his face downwind and makes a little dry-heave silently in the air. "Blep." Was that a word or him vomiting up nothing? Probably a word. He doesn't vomit; he's dead. Yet when he finds himself tracking down that scent out of pure curiosity, he knows it's moving before he gets there. Because of the smell. He can smell the movement. Puns aside, he finds the duffle bag that so offends him, pulls it down between the vehicles and out of sight, and then curses his need-to-match-smell-to-substance mind as he yanks the zipper down halfway; ripping the thing open if he has to even awhile he's got a stake in one hand and a chopping sword in the other like he expects a tentacle monster to pop out of one side while a Kindred charges from the other. "Blep."

Not nearly as awesome as octopuses, octopi?, the Franrat will find a hole to squeeeeze herself into and scurry within one of the buildings. The poor panther is noted but there's zero she can do about it now besides take down these assholes that are hurting the predators in here and.. well.. in the praxis too. Don't you worry little buddy, you might be fed fresh meat tonight... just sayin.

SCHWOOP. That is the exact sound of an elevator going down, down, DOWN, super fast, to places unknown.

The elevator doors open and Alistair and Lurk are...

Just where the hell are they. Worse? ...How will they get out again.

There's still a stream of Romanian spewing from the lips of the female, even as her companion wanders off. A word stands out to Alistair and Lurk: 'Angustri'. It comes to Alistair immediately, and Lurk a moment after.

Of course, they have other things to contend with now. They are in a large laboratory, and there are at least fifteen people milling about, only four of them in lab coats -- the rest carrying fully automatic weapons and wandering the perimeter. They have weird goggles on. The area is /very/ brightly lit.

"Tiarnan... where are ye? Desi... is that ye?" Desitarious unzips that bag and there's Deirdre.

If... Deirdre was the Blob from the original 1958 sci-fi flick. Her face rolls and undulates about in a morass of grostesquery, at times beautiful, and at other times, snarling and gnashing strange teeth. "I need vitae. Help me.... feeeeeed meeee."

"You need to go," The panther warns Frances. "Just please... kill me... kill me." The great beast whimpers. It knows it's her. They're friends, right? She whines. "I'm sick. Kill me. I saw what they do. They're making monsters outside of nature. They took my unborn cubs."

Well damn...just as things were going 'okay' and all, as long as you don't count the whole dozen automatic rifle wielding psycho ghouls, then Desi opens the bag and there is Deirdre. If his heart could skip a beat it would when the golden eagle version of Tiarnan witnesses this. In his head, he knows it isn't Dee right? Still, something about it seriously pisses him off. The eagle drops out of the sky like a meteor, right for the location of his former ghoul. He shifts to land on two legs right next to Desi, staring down at the thing.

Yeah like a good ol' cliche' Gangrel, Frances likes predatory animals moreso than humans because at least the emotions are more straight-forward and there's little to no drama except what's on the dinner menu. When the panther whimpers, of course it gives her pause but instead of going over there and killing the animal, she'll instead squeak out through ratty lips inciting conversation with the larger, though mortal, beast. "Come, let us kill them, die in battle for your babes."

A snarl rips from Desitarious's chest and throat as he both sees and can no longer deny who the person--the thing--in the bodybag is. He recoils more than visibly; he thuds into the vehicle beside the one he pulled the bag from and needs to take one more step. He shoves it sideways just so he can; not even noticing the vehicle as he stares transfixed at Deidre. His lips work in silent stutter that produces no sound; a question he's trying to ask her, but when Tiarnan lands beside him, Desitarious twists into a stance and swings his poisoned sword level at the man; pointing the tip at him as he says with wide, unblinking eyes. "I will fucking end you for this. You. Henry. This is on you both. En garde!"

With not a word more, Desitarious spins in place; in that single flourish managing, somehow, to take both arms from the coat without releasing his weapons and sending the heavy leather garment crumpling to the ground behind him. He is now a lanky scrap of a man in a white tunic that looks too big on his skeletal frame and leather pants tucked down into combat boots. Stake in left hand and sword in right, he looks as if he's about to attack.

"Can't... move..." the panther wheezes out to Frances. "My babies... my poor babies..." Her ears perk, and so do Frances' in the same moment. "It's Dr. Adare. He's coming. Hide!"

Obviously Tiarnan is upset, but then so is Desi? A tiny bit confused, he casts a glance at the other Kindred with arched brows. His expression begins as curious, but soon changed to disbelief. "Ye donnae wish to do that right now, lad." he rumbles toward Desi with a glare when that sword is pointed at him. "That is nae Dee..." he says in a snarl, wicked talons sliding out of his fingers and coming down to slice it's throat wide open to end its misery. Then hears the comment from the panther and gaze shoots up.

"I'm trapped here. Help me... Tiarnan? Mo chroi. Help me!!!" And Deirdre becomes a snarling thing inside of this giant, stinking oozy placenta of wretched tissue and membrane, and suddenly a dozen other faces swarm there, most unknown, save Tiarnan may recognize one: it's Chen, from the old days, and a few Mekhet that went missing long ago. To (Alistair, Moonshrimp), Lurk pages: I'd like to see if I can find labels or names or tags that hold any identifiers. Maybe some labels for the chemicals they've got lying about so that I can do some research into what they're doing here scientifically.

Alistair looks out. Then looks back. Then looks out. That is.. Many guns. Instead, he lets his eyes - aching and pained as they are - glower across the brightly lit chamber until he settles his eyes on one man. He inhales sharply, drawing in the nearby scents and filtering them through the alien part of his brain that is the consumate hunter - everything that Alistair does not display.

He settles back into the elevator, looking towards Lurk and waiting for her move.

Desitarious, the Invictus contract killer/Nosferatu Priscus is out of his element. He is, in fact, so out of his element that he doesn't really know how to do much more than flinch as Tiarnan extends a claw and then his snarling, confounded face turns from the Sheriff, to the thing, and then back to the man with a shake of his head. "Some cunts cut her up bad; yanked all sorts of shit out of her." He lowers his weapons and, well, his apology comes in form of just moving on. It's not an apology, really. "Someone took her Vitae and did this shit." He looks at the larger man and shrugs, "Why are we sneaking around? Let's round these fuckers up. I want answers."

This whole situation is very upsetting. Even without knowing what's going on with the others, something is, as they say, -fucky- about the affair. Lurk is not a master sneak such as Alistair, nor the academic powerhouse he is. She is, however, at least clever in the actions she chooses to take. She slinks about, cell phone in hand, collecting evidence by way of sneakily snapped candids. Of bags, that is. Bags with tags. She does so with some manner of urgency, because she would like to get out of here before someone notices something and things explode into great mayhem.

Once she's finished collecting what she can, she turns and strides back to Alistair with an easy gait. "You've got a computer, right?" She asks as she nears him, a quick blink following. "... Wait, -I- have a computer..." She pauses, then turns her fierce, challenging gaze toward him. "Shut up. Get out." From afar, Frances wishes to hide in waiting for the dr to come out and then wants to intentionally go for an ankle chomp on the Achilles tendon to hopefully make them limp and/or a chew toy for the

The panther has warned her and Frances will take that to heart but she won't run away, she'll instead scurry into a darker place, a place away from the door so that when the time comes, when the doctor comes within... it's chomping time. "Dinner for you..." if it all goes to plan anyways. Here doctor asshole... come on.. through that door. You know what they say about ankle biters being a bad thing? Well rat teeth are strong as hell even without her vampiric skills and she'll straigt up go for the doctor's achilles... cause reasons... a broken doctor could be dinner for panther friend. Nom nom.. completely normal, rats bite alll the time, especially hungry ones.

And... SCHWOOP. Elevator comes back up and Alistair and Lurk are free to roam.

Meanwhile... Dr. Adare approaches the panther and... he shrieks!--falling over, heel all rat-chomped. That poor panther may be sick, but she's not too sick to maul the man that's been torturing her to death. She makes short work of him, human meat flying in massive chunks of gore.

Meanwhile there's the amorphous blob in the body bag, and Tiarnan laying into it.

Tiarnan is...well pissed is really not even anywhere enough to explain the situation. Enough so, that the talons come out and knowing...okay not entire, but REALLY pretty sure, that this is NOT Dee, he extends those talons and swipes once to cut through the abomination, AAAAND it's out. He casts a glance at Desi and nods once, "Give them time to see what they can see...and then we will deal with them." Lifting his hand, the Dead Wolf sniffs the blood just to make sure it isn't Dee...

Bloody teeth, meet wallet.. now to leave the panther to it's meal while she goes to find out where the others are. Maybe the doctor's flesh will give the panther energy or at least a last victory before they come out and do horrible things to it. Frances-rat scurries on.

Desitarious is backpedaling away from the scene of Tiarnan hurting the stinking, hideous thing. He shakes his head at it. "I'll leave this to you sorcerers and witches and be off to my cave, because I will be damned if it is not the best smelling area in this entire, wretched Praxis." He snorts out his nose like a bull. Or an upset bureaucrat. Then he promptly turns not to leave, but to head out halfway out to a rendezvous point in hopes that something will try and catch his hands. When nothing decides to fight him, he turns and screams, "FUCK YOU, TREE!" A telephone pole is promptly knocked over, and then, after that fit, he leaves.