Logs:The Long Suck
The Long Suck
|Characters:||Tom, Hudson, Saulot|
|Summary:||Two werewolves hunt down a mosquito spirit, sacredly.|
Tom gave out the deets for the place, backwater swamp out in the middle of fucking nowhere. He set up there, smoking a joint as he waited and crafted and cut away at some crude components. He's made a mask out of stamped sheet metal and a leather strap, painted with giant black eyes and shaped with a long spike in the middle, the long mouth of a mosquito. A small fire has been set on a "drier" patch of land, it is all swamp afterall.
He's sat down next to it with his legs folded as he is painting the mask crudely, t-shirt slick through his sweat and the man himself looking none the better for having spent what looks like a lot of time out here. There are peppermint and lavender spread around the place, for one reason or another. A backpack set aside next to him.
Hudson is local to New Orleans, so he's less bothered by the heat than the outsiders, though even he looks a little hot and sticky in the humid heat of the swamp. He's come prepared with a gym bag full of gear and follows the directions to the place easily enough. The Irraka spots Tom through a couple of trees ad lets out a sharp whistle, signalling his arrival long before he's close enough to be seen as a threat. He'll flash a quick grin and lift a hand when Tom looks his way before approaching, a look cast about the site Tom's prepared and a nod given, seeming unfazed by the magical practices of the Ithaeur. He sets down his bag near the edge of the area (checking it's dry first) and then giving Tom a look, sizing him up. "Hey, I'm Hudson, good t'meetcha" he introduces himself.
Tom looks up at the whistle, and raises a hand in greeting after settig the paintbrush down, "Tom." he offers back, as he pushes himself up onto his feet. "Good of you to show up. Not exactly sure how big of a fucker this thing is." he gestures to his crude mask as a way of explanation. He smiles, showing a bit too much teeth as Hudson suffers a moment of scrutiny in return. "You alone?"
Once Hudson has taken Tom's measure and introductions have been made, Hudson seems to loosen up fairly immediately, grinning broadly and reaching over to clap Tom on the shoulder. "Sick! Looks good!" he nods approvingly as he glances around the area, and then more closely at the mask. "Eesh, yeah..." he bends at the waist slightly to peer more closely "You don't wanna get bit by that if you can help it..." he shudders, before standing back up and nodding at Tom. "Yeah, the boys ended up being busy, we've got a bit of a mnster problem back on the ranch" he explains with a playful waggle of his eyebrows. He gestures to his gym bag though and explains "Brought enough firepower to bring down ...well, it's a lot of guns and bullets" he laughs, rolling his shoulders in a lazy shrug.
"Monster problem, eh?" Tom asks, but he doesn't linger on it too much. Although he spares the bag a glance at the talk of firepower. "Far as I can tell this thing has sucked atleast some four dudes dry, so I'd say it's right deep on the naughty list. I figure do the sacred hunt, and it's bad enough to drain the fucker dry right back. Cool with you?"
Hudson's brows lift, the Irraka letting out a low whistle when Tom explains that the spirit has sucked four guys dry. He can't resist adding "...and not in a good way" followed by a snort of laughter, though he gets a little more serious and nods his approval to Tom's suggestion. "Sounds good to me dude" Hudson agrees when Tom suggests a Siskur Dah, then adding "you picked a good day, I'm kind of in the mood to murder something." A brief pause. "...not you" he adds, just for the sake of clarity. He flashes Tom another of those grins and watches him make his preparations.
Tom nods with a toothy grin. "Good to know." he draws chooses a stick and begins to draw out a circle in the wet ground, a few First Tongue marks aligned around it before the mask is set down in its center. The chant that follows is short, a repeating call for the spirit, The Long Suck, cast as prey before them as Tom finds some gas from his rucksack and pours it over it, and sets the thing on fire. He waits as it burns, chanting still before the fire naturally fades and he leans down to collect the very very hot mask, drawing his fingers in the ash left behind in The Long Suck's image, using them to mark his own fingertips and forehead before turning to do the same for Hudson.
Hudson is far from a ritemaster, but he knows enough about the Siskur Dah to understand how this all works. The chant is simple enough that Hudson manages to join in once after a few recitations, keeping it going while Tom performs the rest of the eremony by ritually burning the prey in effigy. The Irraka watches the flames with a fascinated air, focusing his thoughts as he keeos up the chant along with Tom. When the flames die down, he watches as the other wolf retrieves the mask and then marks himself up with ashes, Hudson closing his eyes as Tom then marks him in the same way, taking several deep breaths to steady himself for the hunt to come before opening them once more.
Tom draws a sharp breath, his fingers burnt from the searing hot metal. But it heals quickly, as it is wont to do and he shakes them a few times in the wake of it. He walks over to his own backpack, digging around in it and taking out one, then two things of bug spray. Tossing one over to Hudson. "The smaller one can't suck you dry if you're wearing this stuff, might apply for the big one too. And doesn't like Lavender and Peppermint mixed." a bag filled with the two mixed being tossed over soon after. Tom rises and begins to douse himself in the stuff.
"Sweet!" Hudson grins, catching the bug spray easily enough. That smile quickly fades when he reslises exactly *what* he is being asked to spray himself with, and his nose wrinkles a bit. "When you were hoping for Axe and you get Raid, right?" Hudson sighs, shaking his head once or twice. Still, not getting sucked dry (in a ad way) sound like a good plan, so Hudson douses himself liberally in the bug spray, taking care to cover all of himself in it and coughing and sputtering a fair bit. "Man! This shit is fucking *gross*..." Hudson complains, though that diesnlt seem to stop him. The miture of lavender and peppermint at least smells somewhat better, and when the bag gets tossed his way Hudson grabs a handful of it, rubbing it all over himself pretty vigorously. "It'll smell us coming..." Hudson laughs.
"It will. But it apparantly thinks it's hot shit, so might not care." Tom shrugs "First thing will be finding it anyway, all I know is might be hanging around the western parts of the swamp. But we can probably see where the small fuckers are, or ask the locals." all sprayed be wrinkles his nose. "And yes, it's fucking gross." he rubs his hands on his jeans. "You ready? Locus is just over there." he jerks a thumb.
Hudson listens as Tom explains a little more about the spirit, taking it all in and then nodding occasionally. "If it's overconfident it will be easy to surprise. Irraka and Ithaeur right? Wisdom and cunning, better outsmart it." Hudson points out, pretty fcused now that the sacred hunt has been called. There's another distasteful wrinkle of his nose as the application of bug spray is completed, and Hudson hurries over to the edge of the ritual circle to collect his gear, scooping it up before turning his attention in the direction of the locus. "Okay dude, I've got your back. Let's go kill some shit." Hudson nods.
The world around them was a humid mess of water, aquatic flora, and algae. Things aren't that much better when reaching across the gauntlet. However, it becomes much more difficult to tell what is animate and what isn't aside from the more active, anthropomorphic spirits. Almost all of them give the pair a wide berth, although more move just a bit away more from the Ithaeur.
There's no sign of the much smaller spirits around, but there is another. Just as before that crocodilian spirit still resides here, now not so perverse and not on the verge of becoming Magath. It sits there idly in the water, watching them both.
Tom's in clear agreement, changing from a man into a shaggy russet wolf as he leads the way to the Locus, and they cross over. Shaking his soaked and spray smelling fur, the scent even more offensive to his wolf senses. Gleaming yellow eyes scan the area, before he settles on the corodile spirit. Familiar to him. "Greetings spirit." said in the rough tongue of the wolf form. "It has not returned?"
There's a certain sense of homecoming that comes with taking the first few steps into the Hisil, and Hudson takes a moment to draw in a deeeeep breath and stretch his arms over his head, enjoying the feeling of moving back into the shadow. Of course, that deep breath gets him anotter waft of bug spray, but even that doesn't quite dampen his mood and he smiles to himself a little as he looks about the reflection of the swamp they were just stood in. The Irraka reaches into his gym bag, rummaging around a second before producing an automatic rifle (yes really) which he takes a second to give a look over, before following along in Tom's tracks.
~No, man-wolf. The bother is gone.~ The spirit doesn't leave the water, only keeping those hazy eyes on the werewolves. ~Crown of the Wild and Wet watches. Always watches this land. Its land.~ It pauses, adjusted itself ever so slightly in the water. ~It goes, and chases Helios down.~
"Good." Tom says simply, while taking note of the name. Crow of the Wild and Wet. Filing that away for later. He stops for a moment, sniffing in the air. Gleaming yellow eyes lingering on Hudson's rifle for a moment before he turns his muzzle towards the west. "West, all we got." said in First Tongue. "Hope we are lucky." shaking his shaggy fur again, damp and stinking. And turns to start moving.
Dealing with spirits is more an Ithaeur's business, so Hudson stays out of the way and leaves Tom to speak with the crocodile spirit, while he checks his gear over, making sure everything is as he wants it. By the time Tom's done, Hud looks like a mini-Rambo, with guns and belts and puches of ammunition strapped just about everywhere. He's even pulled on a thin kevlar vest over the top of his tshirt. Techwolves gonna tech. Hudson doesn't seem to get a lot out of the spirit's response, so is grateful for the translation. "Right, west" Hudson nods, shifting down to Urhan over the course of a few seconds and then taking off after Tom. True to his name, his wolf form is rather out of place in the bayou of Louisiana and, depsite his local accent, he shifts in a Hudson Bay wolf, thick white fur more suited to a much cooler climate. The alligator spirit is happy to leave the werewolves be, and wait in the water for whatever else may come. The werewolves are left with a trail to follow. Ever faint blood wafting in the air, intermingling scents of multiple vicitims just barely on the air. Further westward it leads them, nearly to the borderlands of the swamp. However, when they see the edges of the swamps the trail leads them further along, and in the spirit vestiges of the city.
Hudson has pretty keen senses, even for a wolf, and so the trail is easy enough for him to follow. Tom helps of course, and helps find the right path in a couple of places where the trail gets muddled. They move quickly in wolf form, eating up ground at an alarming rate as they move through the swamp and then back into the outskirts of civilisation once more. "He wants to be where the people are..." Hudson remarks, slightly stiled with the wolf tongue but the bad disney lyric reference is there.
There is a silence between them, but it is a comfortable one. Of animals in their element, or spirit-flesh halfbreeds in their element, as it were. He stops and sniffs here and there, following Hudson's lead. "Hungry fucker." he notes back. His attention shifting now, as the landscape does as well. The spirits closer to man a wholly different beast.
The source doesn't need to be smelled after a certain point. The low-income housing reflected here is squashed, and barely tall enough to fit their human forms. Vehicular spirits and things of human emotion are all around them. The spirit itself isn't too difficult to track by two markers. First being that blood splashes where its been, and spirits of death and decay are forming around hotspots of when it crossed over. The second are swarms of minor spirits that constantly jab and stab at the other spirits, and those few that defeat and consume slowly have their resonance perverted.
As they close in on the target and his wolf senses are no longer so important, Hudson shifts slowly back to his dalu form over the space of several seconds. He flexes his knees somewhat and keeps low to the ground, as much because there is not a lot of clearance for his head as anything else. He moves with Tom through the outskirts of the city, noting the signs of the mosquito spirit's passing. "Well, he's certainly not wary of being hunted down..." Hudson points out, frownng a little at the clumps of death a decay spirits that swarm wherever their prey has been.
"Grown cocky. Probably a bit mad, even for one of them." Tom speaks, rough as it is from his lupine mouth. "Magaths often are." gleaming yellow eyes scan the scene. "Must've been looking for a new locus to cross." he sniffs in the air further. "But where now."
Joy is rarely found here, but a few minor Hursih of happiness can be spotted around. Fatigue and despair are the most prevelant spirits around, and even those are hounded by the minor Muhurum that constantly buzz around and drain them dry of their essence. One spirit, something of a muscle car that's shrunken in size compared to its skin world counterpart honks several times to drive away the spirits before trying, and failing, to run over the much more tiny spirits.
Hudson listens to Tom and nods his head in agreement as they move through the reflection of New Orleans' outskirts. He eventually spots the car spirit, which makes him smile immediately, and it broadens considerably when he sees it's trying to run down a few of the mosquito spirits. He figures that the enemy of his enemy is probably his friend. "Want to ask Lightning McQueen over there?" Hudson suggests to Tom, having to look down at the much shorter wolf as he does. He deosn't seem like he's about to rush forward and do it himself, scouting and tracking is Irraka work, talking to spirits is for the Ithaeur after all.
Tom turns his head to regard the car spirit, tilting his head before he nods in agreement and paws towards the spirit. Changing in the fantastical display of the People, til he stands as a large looming man. Grunting as he digs around his pockets, and takes out the bug spray. "Spirit, keep still and they will bite you no more." an offer made.
The spirit is hestitant to respond, let alone respect the question. It does acquiesce after a few more seconds to allow itself to be sprayed. The motes of bloated blood scatter off, leaving the spirit free as a bird. Relatively free. The few of the scattered blood-suckers immediately depart the immediate area, staying well out of sight of anything and anyone sprayed. ~Good two-legs.~
"Sick! That's my boy!" Hud grins, stepping up behind Tom to clap the other wolf solidly on the back as he wins the spirit's gratitude. The renewwed waft of bug spray does get another wrinkle of Hud's nose, but it's mostly sprayed at the car, and the side effect of sending all the bug spirits scattering, at least for now, is nothing to be sniffed at. "Sweet, now ask him where the Long Suck is so we can go toast 'em!" Hud urges Tom, though still leaving him to do most of the talking.
"As he says." Tom muses "The Long Suck, big one. Have you seen it?" he asks the car spirit, hopefully now more inclined to answer. "We hunt." a closed fist brought to his chest briefly, as if he was talking to a child, or someone barely speaking the same language.
The spirit responds by revving its engines. It turns away from them, and starts movign in a stationary circle. Those wheels stop turning as it points to another of the squished down buildings. ~Green light, two-legs~ it says with several honks of its horns.
"Amazing!" Hudson grins when the car spirit points the way to one of the nearby buildings, and reaches out to give the car spirit a tentative 'pat pat' on the hood, before turning his attention back to Tom. "Okay, let's try and take it by surprise, go in quiet, hit it hard and fast, get out before it call in too many of little buddies, sound good?" Hudson asks, looking from Tom to the building and then back again.
"Sounds good to me." Tom agrees easily, shifting again as he becomes a giant wolf, shaped from fairy tales, a monster. Sniffing the air again before he, quiet and sneaky-like approaches the building which was indicated. "Small ones shouldn't be able to bite us, atleast."
The build is full of various spirits that don't care much for or about the werewolves. Those spirits of despair, family, and poverty. All of them forced together as the wolves make their way up the stairs. They find The Long Suck near the top, flanked by nearly half a dozen other spirits.
The minor spirits are similar enough in visage, but clearly differ in rank and size. Each of them looks something like a mosquito, although much bigger than their skin-side reflections. The smallest are as big as a pigeon, and the largest of them all looks like it could shove that proboscis through someone's chest, and it'd very easilyy come out the other end.
Soft paws move up the staircase, but it isn't an easy place for a giant wolf to hide. In tight stairways, as soon as Tom can see the spirit he stops and focuses. Using his Gifts from Mother Moon to try and pierce the essence and nature of the Long Suck, to no avail.
Moving quietly through the building, Hudson drops to one knee when they come in sight of the Long Suck and it's group of servitors. The large, buglike spirits create another slight wrinkling of Hudson's nose, a light shudder passing through him at the sheer grossness of it all. He kees calm though, looking carefully down the sight and lining up the perfect shot, before whispering a quiet 'Now' - hopefully too quiet for the mosquito to hear, but certainly loud enough for Tom's keen hearing.
The cadre of blood-sucking spirits continue. They go up, and as they do so the Uratha can feel that presence. A locus nearby as they reach the edges of its literal sphere of influence. Home, security, and hearth; even in this seemingly desolate place in the Hisil.
It's with a savage snarl that Tom finally leaps from his hiding spot, there is no warning, no mercy. This is prey. Long fangs find purchase in the Long Suck's form, tearing wildly with snapping jaws. It's bloody, as far as such things go with the spirits. Rip. Tear. Destroy.
The benefits of cunning and wisdom working together quickly become apparent when the trap is sprung so flawlessly! As Tom leaps forward to rend the creature with teeth and claws, Hudson unleashes a quick rat-a-tat-a-tat of bullets from the muzzle of his rifle that rip deep into the corpus of the spirit, quickly discorporating it with a shriek before it has time to realise what's going on and strike back.
the spirit explodes in a gory display of ephemera and bug pieces. Those soon enough evaporate into the composite essence that makes up its corpus and earthly form. The essence feeds the spirits of the werewolves, and the other spirits don't even wait around. They buzz about only for a few seconds, and soon enough disperse to get as far away from the werewolves as they can.
Tom looms over the remains of the Long Suck, feeding off the Essence left. Claiming it as punishment for the spirit's crime against the Law of Father Wolf. Revigorated he raises his massive muzzle, ephemera dripping down it as he lets out a howl. A long threat, to make it known to all that the People had hunted tonight. To remind them of the Law. They are the Law.
Hudson is only too happy to join in when the Long Suck explodes in a shower of gore and it's underlings go scattering in all directions. Bursting forth from his hiding spot the Irraka eruptss into a howl of triumph to accompany his hunting partner as he gorges himself upon the mosquito spirit's remaining essence. "Hahaha!" He laughs happily, hopping in place as he pumps his fist. "You were fucking SICK dude!" Hudson heaps on the praise as he dances about the place jubilantly. "It basically just fucking disintegrated we hit it so hard. We absolutely fucking nailed it!" he crows, finally calming down enough to beam at the other wolf.
The flush of Essence, the wake of fighting, short as it was lingers for a few moments as the monster wolf breathes hard. Excited. "Good." he echoes Hudson in First Tongue, shaking himself. "They better learn." licking his wet muzzle as gleaming eyes peer around. "Locus here."
"Yeah..." Hudson nods when Tom mentions them being near a locus. It's pretty easy to pick out, and Hudson nudges his head in that direction and asks "You wanna come check it out? I'm not sure where it'll spill out, but somewhere on the edge of town it looks like. We can probably call and uber still." Hudson suggests, before adding "Man dude, you were fucking UNREAL!" with a happy laugh and a respectful nod of his head to the other wolf. Tom has made a friend for life!A dripping tongue lolls out in a friendly expression in return. "You shot well." said back in that savage tongue, before he shifts his focus to the world beyond. To see where they indeed would end up, with the hunt done and the foe scattered. To find their way back, one way or another.