30th Howl [Action | Open | Backdated to 2/12]

[professorwolf]

Who: Randall Lyall, the wolf version, and OPEN
When: All night, starting two hours after moonrise
Where: Around the city
What: Full moon came a little early this month...

The full moon was on Friday. Lyall was prepared for it, had people coming in, had called Reilanin to see if she was coming, all that. What he was not prepared for was, two nights early, the moon rose and he felt it, felt the change starting without any warning beyond that. The ability to change outside of the full moon, without the control learned from centuries of fighting the change, came with it the drawback of having to fight it for all the nights around the full moon, as well.

He managed to make it off the couch and right into the doorway of his secured bedroom before he lost what little control he had left, and the wolf took over: the angry, hurting, moon-mad wolf who only wanted to attack, kill, and preferably eat whatever, or perhaps whoever, he could get his teeth into.

It took him a little while to get out of the house, once he'd finished healing, but one broken window later, there was a sandy-colored wolf prowling the streets, loose and hunting and completely unafraid of people.

Comments

CLOSED TO IVY AND LYALL BOTH

[wastingtime]

Completely unaware of any such mad beasts roaming about, Elian was having quite a nice night along the pier. It was all well and good to converse with others through the Network, but sometimes, it was also very nice to speak with them face-to-face.

"...and then there's Richard, who lives in Florida with his own family, last I heard he'd managed to get himself a promotion at one of the resorts..."

And to discuss their various grandchildren and said grandchildren's exploits. Though Elian hadn't any children of his own, one of the perks of having so many siblings was that you ended up having quite a few descendants nonetheless.

Re: CLOSED TO IVY AND LYALL BOTH

[pokebonnet]

"Oooooh," Ivy says admiringly. "I don't think there are any Curries working in resorts right now--I'm not even sure about Pendletons, I've lost track of half the family over the years, especially the half that stayed in England. Artie used to be an entertainer on a cruise ship, once! I even saved up money to take it when he was on it. It was very nice. He takes after me, you know. I was an actress when I was younger!"

She is so caught up in trading stories that she doesn't even notice the werewolf.

[professorwolf]

That probably won't last for long: Lyall is not exactly hiding, nor is he exactly being stealthy. There is nothing more than a simple, and hungry and angry, animal intelligence to the wolf, and the smell of people draws him into a lope, teeth bared and ears up, singling the pair out from other choices. They're people part of him knows, for one, and people that are moving slowly and smell of age, for another. Easy prey, the wolf thinks.

[wastingtime]

"Really, now! What sort of acting did you..."

His words trail off at movement up ahead; he turns to see what it is, and immediately, his eyes widen. Someone's let a dog off a leash-

"Ivy! Run!"

He's fumbling for something in his shirt; being seen isn't even a worry in his mind, not with this. The charm, the cyberkey, where is it-

[shiromadoushi]

It was the scream that grabbed Bakura's attention, cutting through the music on his headsets and snapping him to attention. Bike screeching to a halt, he pulled his headphones off, looking every direction for the source.

...shit, was that...!

With a curse, his bike lurched back into motion, panic fueling his peddling. That was from the direction of Lyall's house....

[professorwolf]

That was from Lyall lunging at one of his neighbors, in fact. Thankfully, the wolf was still a bit unsteady on his paws, and the neighbor a bit quicker on hers, managing to duck inside the house before he actually reached her. There was an angry snarl, and some vicious clawing at the door, probably enough to catch Bakura's attention when he gets close enough.

[shiromadoushi]

Bakura's bike again skidded to a halt, the teen staring in near horror. A wolf on Lyall's street. A wolf on Lyall's street when...

Hand shaking a little, he pulled out his phone, thumb moving quickly over the surface before pausing. But the full moon wasn't... but....

Hand shaking a touch more now, he quickly entered Lyall's number into his phone. 'Wolf outside on your street. Where are you?'

[part_time_overlord]

Sam was riding his bike home from work when he noticed that weird prickling sensation you get when you subconsciously realize you're being followed. He coasted to a stop by a small park and looked around. Sam still wasn't sure if his new eyes could actually see a bit better in the dark or if it was just his imagination.

He called out into the darkness, "Who's following me? I'm warning you, I'm tougher than I look!"

[professorwolf]

Really, in the shape and mindset he was in, Lyall didn't have the capability to sneak. So when the prey he'd been tracking suddenly stopped and made a noisy beacon of himself, the tawny wolf came charging from the darkness, mouth agape and teeth bared in a snarl.

[part_time_overlord]

"H-HOLY SHIT!"

Sam fell off his bike in a pile as something huge leaped out of the dark at him, full of claws and teeth. Acting on instinct, he grabbed on to the handle bars of the bicycle and swung it with far more force than any human should be able to summon like a big, unwieldy club at the werewolf.

[stopinthenameofawe]

Melissa's out, because... that's what Melissa does. She's been a bit more on edge about it recently, thanks to the network and work and everything, but she still does it. If she didn't, that would probably attract more notice than she wanted.

But on her way to the bar, she hears a howl, and it drives a chill up her spin. She grew up in the country- she knows what a wolf sounds like. But what the hell is one doing here? She opens her clutch, keeping her modified eyes surveying the area around her will she locates her gun. Luckily for Lyall, this isn't the gun from her most recent Echo. That one has silver bullets.

[professorwolf]

Either way, Lyall hasn't echoed that particular weakness back yet, so there's that, too. He's also easy to spot, as he's not trying to hide. The wolf has no cunning to him, only anger and hunger, and while he can track prey, he is less interested in stalking and more interested in running it down.

So when he lopes into her field of vision, it's right down the middle of the sidewalk-- not the street, as he's learned by now that cars are dangerous, and he might not be smart, but he's not stupid, either. He's tawny and lithe rather than sturdy, like an overgrown fox more than a wolf, with big ears and a longer sort of tail.

And teeth bared at the sight of Melissa.

[stopinthenameofawe]

That is a weird looking wolf. Melissa pulls her handgun out, pointing her gun at it. It's no shotgun, but if a wolf has had enough experience pointing something shiny and metal at them, they get the idea. Usually.

"Don't even think about it," she mutters under her breath. She is so not in the mood for this right now.

[chalicejoker]

Hajime had been enjoying a very rare quiet night, and he had been walking to the little corner store near his apartment--not a long enough distance to justify trying to ride the motorcycle in this weather--when his bug monster senses suddenly perked up at the feeling of power nearby. He knew this feeling well; he'd spent long enough hanging around werewolves to get a sense of them.

He reflexively looked up in the direction of the moon. Not full. Then why was he sensing this? He started jogging in the direction he'd felt it, and...yes, that was a wolf where a wolf shouldn't be. Even worse, he recognized that wolf.

As he tried to decide how best to handle this, he wondered how it had become his lot in life to chase after werewolves running loose. Once more, he wished he had his motorcycle. Wolf-wrangling would be easier with a motorcycle, again.

[professorwolf]

At least this wolf didn't have any supernatural abilities, yet. He was just running, looking for something to eat. Hajime was downwind, for the moment, and he hadn't caught on to him yet, but there was a couple walking down the street just ahead that he was bounding towards, all teeth and growls echoing around the quiet evening street.

[chalicejoker]

There was only one thing to do. It had worked well enough when he'd been chasing Reilanin in a similar situation, at least. Hajime ducked into the first dark alley he could find if only to take a moment to shift into his bug form, and then he barreled out towards Lyall at full speed. He was yelling nonsense in his monster language at the top of his lungs with the hopes that he would make enough noise and be terrifying enough to convince any of the normal people in the area to get the hell out of there while making sure that the wolf knew he'd have to take out a loud, annoying bug before getting anything to eat.

[unelven]

Teagan prefers, on winter nights, to curl up with a book and not go outside. Winter nights are too cold, too dead for his liking, unlike the freshness of spring, summer and fall. Unfortunately, as a dog owner, he has to go out into the snow. Rhys, ever the energetic one, loves the snow and bounds forward in it, while Freya remains by her master. The howl though, catches both of their ears, as well as Teagan's, and they start growling at a coming corner.

He frowns, a firm hand on Freya's head, feeling the vibration and, as he's come to conclude was a recent pulse, an echo of her fear. His dogs are tense, and it makes him tense as well.

[professorwolf]

The source of the howl comes padding around said corner: a tawny wolf, practically blonde, good sized but lithe and more graceful than sturdy, like an overgrown fox, complete with slightly larger ears than your typical wolf. He does not look happy, either, and the growls catch his attention immediately. He bares his teeth at the trio, tail straight up aggressively.

Teagan has just echoed psychic empathy, make of it what you will.

[unelven]

The greyhounds stand their ground against the wolf, baring teeth. They aren't hunting dogs, are no longer running dogs, they won't attack but they still try their best to protect, out of loyalty and love for their owner, while he remains unmoving. Coyotes are common enough in the woods around his cabin, but they keep their distance and he, respectfully, keeps his own. To be faced by a wolf, and one so large, when he hasn't a shotgun or a rifle on him, is something else entirely.

He knows better than to turn and run, knows better than to break eye contact, so he remains put and tries to will a calm to his dogs, to the wolf, as anyone would do in such a situation as if the force of one's own will could do anything at all. Little does he understand, though, that the force of his own will had changed.

"Ssh, It's alright."

He says, more to himself and his dogs than anything else. Keep watching keep hoping the wolf turns off and leaves them alone.

[umbrael]

It's a late night, and Lyall isn't the only creature who hungers in the night.

Fortunately, Doyle's not at the point where he actively hungers for raw meat (yet) - this is just some missed groceries. And. And a bag of Cheetos. Don't judge him.

Well - anyway, it means he's walking to the closest convenience store. It might be a little dark out, sure, but he's not afraid. Truthfully, only some of that comes from one of his recent echoes. The rest of him is just so irritated at having to make this trip, there's no room for feeling cautious.

... Come to think of it, though, that could be from an echo, too.

Anyway, if the smell of computer nerd doesn't draw attention, his spoils from his food run might. Dogs like peanut-butter, right?

[professorwolf]

This canine likes human flesh, so really, skinny computer nerd works just fine. Especially skinny computer nerd out by himself, laden down with groceries. Lyall isn't stalking, or ambushing; he's just flat-out chasing. So once he catches that scent, he's loping in Doyle's direction, letting out a chilling howl on the approach.

[umbrael]

Contrary to what the sensible thing might be in this situation, Doyle stops completely at the sound. It's spine-chilling enough to wash out that irrational irritation with fear. That... That sounded a little more than a dog howl, somehow.

Then he moves, spinning around to try and find where it came from - he sees something running towards him.

He acts a little quicker this time: He fucking runs. A little awkward with a bag swinging at his side, and a little tricky since ahaha, computer repair isn't exactly strenuous activity.

"Fuck!"

[comparative_insanity]

You know what you really want to see when you've decided to walk home from work in the early morning instead of taking a cab, and you glance into an alleyway on passing. Well, whatever it might be, it does not include a great big dog - and he's never seen a dog quite like it, that's for sure - that looks nothing like tame and doesn't appear to have a collar on it.

It isn't even a concious decision that makes him sink a bit into a crouch, or that causes his nails to lengthen about an inch, and he's pretty sure after a moment of panic that this might just have something to do with the Numbers club. So maybe it's worth a shot to...

"Okay, I'm guessing 'Nice doggy' ain't gonna cut it, huh? You don't happen to talk or like... be generally sentient, do you?"

[professorwolf]

Werewolves are not the stalking type. They are the charging type, trusting in their strength and teeth to save them any trouble. So Lyall is merely padding through an alley in search of new prey, rather than lying in wait, and he's about as surprised by Fay as Fay is, by him.

That doesn't last long, though, before he drops to a crouch, himself. His crouch, though, is one that is ready to spring, and his lips draw back from his teeth in a growl.

[comparative_insanity]

Well, joy, that seemed to have achieved nothing apart from also making the creature either angry or frightened - either way you turn it, though, that definitely makes it threatening. And it looks like it's about to attack him. Fun times.

He quickly glances behind him, glad for the superior night vision his slitted pupil grants him, if not the restricted field of vision that comes with only one eye. Right behind him an old, battered-looking Volvo is parked, and that will have to do. Springing backwards hastily as if physics is something that happens to other people, he lands softly on the car roof, glad that it doesn't seem to have an alarm to set off.

"That didn't work, apparently. Look, doggy, I ain't about to warn you twice but I'm pretty sure I'm capable of slicing you in half if I try. Look." He keeps talking on the off chance that the dog is sentient, but hostile, and holds up a hand to demonstrate claws that now are as long as his forearm.