The Warehouse

[Sorrow] The non-descript warehouse near the river at the edge of the neighborhood is a good mile or more from furthest edge of territory claimed by Eagle's Chosen at the height of their power. That power had diminished by the time the pack - such as it remained - died with the death of The Sandman. In the end, Silence himself kept clear and cleansed only a center core of his pack's territory on the northern boundary of the Caern, following the river back toward the center of the city the way an arrow courses toward the heart of a thing. That's the territory they've claimed, Roman and Sparrow and Kora, working outward from the slowly expanding core, seeing what they can cleanse, balance, hold.

The cleaning supplies have to be brought in physically. They can't drag bottles of bleach into the umbra, course through the bleak streets of the scab under the gleaming lines of the pattern web, beneath the hungry chittering banes. So they walk. Sometimes, they catch a bus. If they drive, it's Roman. The work is slow and dehumanizing. It would be dehumanizing if they were human, like all the corpses trapped in the freezers lined up down the long corridor, toward the central workspace. Just now, Kora is sitting on the steps outside. It's dark, and the moon is full, but the late, nameless, demented doctor chose the location for its isolation. There's little to no traffic on the street. The nears buildings are empty, derelict, ghostly underneath the light of the full moon, glowing down at them through the haze of the city's light pollution.

[Alexa Thanos] Each day since their first night coming to the warehouse, the Silent Strider has turned up to help clean the place out. Any cleaning supplies she had bought with her have been stolen, swiped from storage facilities, from the many buildings that are cleaned by night, or by factories with poor security. Being penniless means being resourceful. But for the most part she has been here performing the Rite of Cleansing, leading Garou through the Rite, chasing away the taint of the Wyrm that had laid in this place, festering up through the misery and callousness of a doctor gone mad.

She exits the warehouse now, coming out at the top of the steps that Kora sits upon. The air is fresher out here, compared to that within, and she breaths it in, fills her lungs with it and wipes her nose with the back of her hand after. Boots tread softly across the step, until she folds herself down to sit next to the other Garou, with a small space between them.

Alexa doesn't talk much.

[Roman Turner] His driving skills left a fight with the Wyrm looking like a walk in the park. Still, it didn't stop him from snatching Sparrow's car and using it, which made getting supplies a little easier. At this moment he had plopped down next to Sorrow. When Alexa came out he made room for her.

"I think my nose hairs are burned out."

He was rubbing his nose at that very moment, giving his voice a nasal sound.

[Imogen Slaughter] A car pulls up along the road, one headlight burnt out. It's a volvo, aged and rusting, its engine rattling uncomfortably.

It is precisely the kind of car one would never expect a woman of her calibre to drive. Exactly the kind that would not be stolen because who would waste their time? Nondescript. More rust than paint.

She pulls up the parking brake with a straining creak and gets out, flexing her hands briefly from the effort of driving a car which may have power steering, but really, it has seen better days. Despite the ordinariness of the car, the kinfolk is hardly so. Her redhair burns like dying embers in the pollution diffused moonlight. Her skin is pale as if never touched by the sun. She moves with a confidence and grace that, while not a warrior, can match or beat some Garou.

She does not move right away, looking at the trio of Garou, a moment's pause. Then, she does, stepping around her car and walking toward them, her flat shoes silent on the broken and uneven concrete.

[Roman Turner] He actually stopped breathing when Imogen stepped out of that heap of a car. The very air around him seemed to still. Time stopped and it wasn't till several heartbeats had passed that he finally let his breath out.

[Sorrow] Alexa emerges from the warehouse, Kora lifts a Nalgene bottle filled with cool, clear water up in a wordless offer. There's another one, still capped, tucked beside her against the brick facade of the old building. Both bottles are large, colorful, with carabiners to attach to a belt loop or backpack for hiking. One of them has a harness and strap so that it can be worn over the body, like a cross-body bag. Kora lifts her chin to Roman when he emerges, offers him the bottle, accepts it back when he's finished with it. His comment just draws a faint huff of amusement out of Kora, she doesn't otherwise remark on his nose hairs - or the smell from within.

Then, she offers it to Alexa as the Strider emerges, the water inside catching the light. "Are you sticking around for the moot?" Her attention is alert, curious. Watchful.

The headlights flash ghostly down the empty street. As the car creeps forward, Kora is still, wary and alert. Before it is parked, though, she recognizes Imogen through the windshield, and relaxes, this subtle unwinding of her lean, tense frame. "Hey doc," Kora calls out when Imogen is in easy earshot. Her voice is low; she doesn't raise it at all. No need to draw attention to the strange now-quartet on the steps of the abandoned building.

"This is Alexa. Alexa, Dr. Imogen Slaughter." Kora had mentioned the kinswoman earlier; not just her name but her work, both for the Nation and for the state. The sort of expertise she had in matters like - "Thanks for coming, doc. I appreciate it."

[Alexa Thanos] She had drank a small bit of water, and then another sip before offering it back. "Yes, I'll be here for the moot." Of course she is.

"My throat is raw," the Strider offers, counters to Roman's nose hair. The bleaches that they have been using burned the back of her throat. It's killed most of her senses along the way too, and she's sure she's going to smell that awful chemicals for a good week, even after leaving this place.

When the car arrives, Alexa watches it from where she's sitting, leaned forward with her forearms braced into her thighs, more into one. Imogen gets out. Roman stops breathing. Alexa throws him a subtle side glance.


Being introduced has her sitting up a little more and offering Imogen a small nod. She doesn't offer to shake the womans hand, not because she's trying to be rude, but because she's not in the habit, and she's also conscious of what might be lingering in her own pores.

[Imogen Slaughter] "A pleasure." Alexa does not offer Imogen her hand, but neither does Imogen offer hers. The kinwoman, though western-civilized and possessing a latent sense of etiquette, does not seem to notice the lack.

Sorrow says she appreciated it while Roman perhaps stares at the kinwoman with his usual adoration. Imogen shakes her head at the former, and ignores the latter.

"Don't mention it," she says, dismissing the appreciation.

A glance at the warehouse, "This is it, is it?"

[Roman Turner] He jumped to his feet and touched the brim of his hat, catching the front edge of the brim between his thumb and forefinger in a brief salute complete with a small cant of his head in greeting.

"Even'n Miss Doctor Slaughter. It's a right smelly bit of nasty in yonder. Might need a mask for all the bleach that's been used. It'll burn the hairs right out of your...er....not that ya have hairs there...er...and er...wonderful night. ain't it?"

[Sorrow] "This is it," Kora confirms, with the ghost of a half-smile curving across her mouth. Then she's capping the bottle and tucking it back against the brick. Then she's rising from her seated position to stand on the steps, already tall made taller by the additional six or twelve inches between them. She glances up at the sky, seeking out the moon's position to learn the hour.

"I didn't give you any of the background, did I?" This, to Imogen. "The short version is: this insane doctor was holding veterans here, cutting bits and pieces of them off to put together a supersoldier, Frankenstein meets GI Joe, yeah? We didn't know anything about it until a kinsman disappeared from the VA, an we tracked him here. I can't tell you how many bodies there were in there, locked away in freezers. He apparently prefered to harvest parts from the living rather than the dead. So, we've been cleansing and cleaning. I want to make sure we're getting what we need to get scrubbed scrubbed. That we're not leaving stuff behind we shouldn't, you know? I suppose," a glance here toward Roman, then Alexa, her brow furrowed. " - we could take the freezers to a metal scrap yard when we're done here."

[Alexa Thanos] The others stand and she follows suit, stepping out of the way, moving back up towards the door instead. It leaves room for Imogen to head through, for Alexa to open the door when they're ready to give up the kinder air for the foul stench within. At Kora's glance, the suggestion of the scrap yard, Alexa shrugs a lean shoulder and nods.

[Roman Turner] "I think dismantling them, giving them a hosing down and selling the scrap is a great idea."

[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen regards Roman with a bit of narrow eyed puzzlement as he trips over hairs from her... what? nostrils? Anything else, she refuses to consider.

"... Yes." She answers him, blandly, "it is, isn't it?"

Her attention turns to Kora now, as she speaks. A shake of the head offers an answer - no, Sorrow had not given the background. The kinwoman's attention is fixed upon the Skald as she clarifies.

"Well," Imogen observes, drawing a deep breath through her nostrils, slow. "That's just charming." Her assessment of the situation.

"Yeh may want to take them to several scrap metal yards," she suggests. "Separately. It will draw less notice."

She scratches absently at the tip of her nose with the curve of her thumbnail, then lets her hand fall, reaching into her jacket pocket. Plastic crinkles and she draws out a sealed bag of latex gloves. "Alright, then," this a mere place holder as she lifts her chin to indicate the warehouse. "Shall we?"

[Roman Turner] "Ya should of seen it. This nut case used spiders for his spies. Kind of ingenious when ya think about him as the spider and the webbing his telegraph. But he was also making Frankenstein's monster meets the transformers or something."

He moved forward to open the door for the ladies.

[Alexa Thanos] Alex raised an eyebrow at Roman when he came over to where she was standing, but she stepped out of his way so that he could be the gentlemen and open the door for the lot of them. Under different circumstances she might have been bemused. She waits for others to head in before she follows through. It's not pleasant inside, but it's a lot better then when they first had walked in.

[The Truth] The insides itself resembled a strange amalgamation of chop shop, hospital, and slaughter house. Save for the fact that no effort had been made to sterilize, or properly store the decaying flesh tossed about like it was useless trash. The entire operation would appear crude though Imogen, being a doctor herself, might pick up on the precision with which the one behind the entire thing worked. He seemed unbothered by the lack of sanitation, not because he was unsanitary but because the decay served as bait. It called to and lured the creatures who, to this day, still lurk beyond the horizon casting a thin haze of rage over the area.

The strange machine things that were being constructed were not the sterile weaver creations one might expect. Just as the wyrm uses the power of rage and the kiss of the wyld to weasel its way into the minds of the Garou so too can the Wyrm manage to take the intentions and desires of creative humans and twist them to its own end. There is no doubt at the sight of decaying corpses, and half constructed mechanical abominations that this was one such instance.

Cleansing the place is more than just a matter of a simple ritual... This entire operation will need to be dismantled and covered up. That would take effort on its own...

Still none of this matter would give answers. Perhaps it was best no one be given a glimpse into the mind of a monster. Perhaps it would be best to simply burn the place to the ground and forget about it. Still this operation was surprisingly well hidden and seemed to serve some kind of function.

For those brave enough to seek answers there were possibilities. Three separate computers were networked together. Three separate computers loaded with all manner of interesting data. Tucked away in the office... No doubt their owner had not intended them to fall into the hands of anyone. Unfortunately his plans didn't work out as he had intended did they?

[Alexa Thanos] [I think that the garou have been here doing clean up since it all went down Nick. Like, I'm sure that there's not decaying bodies lying around anymore, at the very least.]

[Sorrow] So: the four of them outside the only doors to the warehouse that were not bricked over or welded shut or otherwise firmly sealed. Kora pulls open the door. There are lights inside, those battery powered camping lanterns, just a handful if the electricity is not on, and against the chance that it might, at any time, go out if the power grid still words. The first long hall is filled with the freezers that were both prison and tomb to most of them men who died to make the corrupted doctor's super soldiers.

"We've gotten all these cleaned out," Kora says, grabbing the lantern just inside the door. The smell of bleach and oher strong chemicals is sharp, here. "We've been bleaching to get rid of the blood, and have cleaned up, cleansed, and burned most of the bodies we found here. There are a bunch of computers in the office, too. I know we can't just throw those away."

[Imogen Slaughter] "Magnetize them," Imogen says. "Strong magnets on the harddrives and the motherboards t'wipe any potential data."

Her nostrils pinch slightly at the burn of cleaning solvents in the air as she steps through the doorway, her gaze moving over the long hallway of freezers. She is silent, taking in the scope of them.

"Though," she says mildly. "You may want to check them for his suppliers first. And his source o' income. This," a movement of her hand, gesturing at everything. "Does not come cheap. I find it hard to believe tha' someone financed it privately."

[Roman Turner] "Ya might find his schematics and plans. Maybe even his Dear Diary notes on them computers."

He didn't like this place and found himself constantly knocking spider webs down.

[Sorrow] "I can transfer iTunes to an iPod. I can send an e-mail or an instant message, if you let me near a computer, doc," a sidelong glance at the doctor as they continue down the long hallway, the stench of the cleaning producs makes a grotesque admixture of old blood and the sharper scent of bleach applied with a liberal hand.

" - but I haven't touched one in what - four years? Maybe five. I'm not going to get much of anything from his computer. I'd like to know, too, though, who was helping him snatch those patients, you know? Someone had to find him folks who didnt have much in th way of family, or whose families wouldn't really notice that they were missing." She glances at Roman as he suggests that they might find his Dear Diary notes. She gives him this twist of her mouth, edging toward a smirk, made sharper by their surroundings, by the brutal work of the clean-up.

"Maybe you know someone who could pull that info from the machines before we destroy the data?"

[Alexa Thanos] [dont wait on me, fixing lunch for kids.]
to Imogen Slaughter, Roman Turner, Sorrow, The Truth

[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen's mouth twists slightly, though it's not a smirk, something more like a grimace.

"I can try," a brief glance, wry, in Kora's direction. "I know a bit more than instant messaging and email."

[Roman Turner] "Glasswalker could. Me, I'm, good ole home schooled. I can tell ya the right crop to put in and when to rotate them. Work on a combine and I can buck hay till the sun goes down, but computers are a curse. Ma says ain't got nothing but them poor naked girls on them. And them girls lost their way, that's why they are on there with all the bomb makers looking at them little parts God didn't mean to be shared with more than one person at a time."

[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen's glance to Roman is sharp, her mouth twisting - and this time, it is a smirk, barely suppressed.

"The naked girls are with the bomb-makers, are they? That seems like an unwise distraction when dealin' with bombs."

[The Truth] [Is Imogen sitting down at a computer?]
to Imogen Slaughter

[Roman Turner] "No, no, they might be the bomb, but they ain't the boom bomb makers. They are showing their little girly parts to them searching the web for bomb plans. And speaking of web. Kind of funny...the web...the webs this guy had all over. Sounds like more than one kind of webbing going on and yet they crossed."

[Imogen Slaughter] (not yet.)
to The Truth

[Sorrow] "C'mon, then," Kora returns, low-voiced. She's hushed in this tomb of a place, except when Roman's comment about naked girls and bomb makers makes her laugh, briefly, surely, a flare of her nostrils, the subtle whuff of air from her nose and mouth.

Their footsteps are sure down the long hallway; they pass through a much larger room, then, with a huge purpose-made freezer in the center. The door has been brutally wrenched away from its welds, smashed through from without. The largest of the soldiers has been dismantled. Kora removed the weapons and the armor for trophies, but cleansed and burned all traces of the body parts used to construct the thing.

Then, they take another turn, down the last hallway toward the office that Alexa first discovered, where they found the computers. "What the hell," Kora asks, as head to the office, with the computers, if only to distract Roman from discussions of naked girls and bomb makers. "does it mean to buck hay?"

[Roman Turner] "Ya ain't never bucked hay?"

He was clearly surprised with that response.

"Well sucks Miss Kora, folk been bucking hay for centuries. Ya gotta cut it first, then someone drives the baler with a truck where all the bales get caught as they come out all nice and neat. Then when ya get to the barn, one guy goes on up in the barn while the other stands in the bed of the truck and bucks the hay up to the catcher. The catcher bucks the hay up to the top of the pile. It's called buckin cause ya lift up one of them 75 to a hundred pound square bales and ya catch them on your gut, supporting it with your thighs. Then ya buck against it as ya thrust up with the bale to give it lift. Ya can always tell the jeans worn during bucking, the thighs are all worn and faded."

[Imogen Slaughter] "Hm." This is all Imogen says to Roman's ramble, letting Sorrow divert him as she leads them into the office. Once inside, she surveys the computer(s) first. Brand, set up. She looks for a modem, a router, any signs of a network or any signs of a network which would possibly go into other parts of the building, indicating computers elsewhere.

[The Truth] The computers themselves are storage devices, and looking through any of them would reveal they weren't used in the typical manner as raw data storage. These devices were extensions of their users brain... As if he was using them to multi-task in his project.

All three were left on, and not a single one was currently connected to the outside world... Though a nearby connection could be plugged in to change that it was apparent that he was not looking to make himself readily available to the outside world. Projects like this tend to get frowned upon by the local authorities these days. Ahh the good old days of Nazi Germany when a scientist could be free to pursue science instead of being limited by small minds standing in the way of true understanding.

Each computer was custom built and scattered about the office was a number of computer parts... It was hard to tell but one could probably put together a number of computers from the scraps left lying about alone. Though the three active computers were pretty impressive themselves. Streamlined for speed and function and a glance at the keyboards would reveal that most of the letters had been worn away from use. Implying these computers were used a lot more than just casually. It's really hard to smudge the ink off a keyboard that can't be more than three months old without constant use.

[Sorrow] "I ain't never bucked hay." Kora responds, throwing in an ain't and a double-negative as she responds to Roman in a casual tone that is rather dry. Her dark eyes linger on Imogen, and she holds up the lantern for general light, offering Imogen the direct beam of a flashlight if and as necessary to trace the networking wires or ethernet cables or - Kora does not know the names of these things. She cannot identify the parts scattered around the office. She stands, alert and wary, ready to act if and as necessary. The room is quiet except for the humming of the computer fans, and the strange banter between the packmates.

"Shocking, isn't it? You ever buck hay, Two Step-yuf?"

[Imogen Slaughter] (Sorry, I think I am going to need clarification.

Can you let me know how Imogen knows these computers are storage devices and what you mean by that? And what you mean by devices being extensions of the user's brain?)
to The Truth

[Roman Turner] "Two Step, I like the Two Step. Even better if it'd done in a line."

[Sorrow] "Don't tell me you line dance, Roman," Kora returns in that same, dry voice. Quiet enough. No echoes in the room.

[Alexa Thanos] "I've never bucked hay," she tells Sorrow with a small curl of her mouth. "I've bucked in the hay, if that counts?" Standing off to the side, her fingers are tucked into one of her jean pockets, at the back. She chuckled quietly at Roman's little nudge at her deed name, which is something she's heard plenty before.

"You know it's Two Step in the Blindside, in case, you know, you missed the whole thing." This is said with another small quirk of her mouth. "A bit hard to do that in a line."

[Roman Turner] He snorted with Kora's question.

"Everyone line dances on Friday Night and special occasions and any party. I mean, it's simple standard dancing, though I prefer the Cha Cha steps."

[The Truth] [*Chuckles*No worries... Ahem. I figure the purpose would be obvious. They're not connected to the outside world. There is a printer nearby but even that isn't actively plugged in. The computers themselves are networked together to allow the free exchange of information back and forth without allowing it to be shared with the outside world. So they were used as utility... Storage would be a pretty logical conclusion. Ahem, trying to paint an image for an investigator sort :) To be able to walk into a room and kinda piece together how things might have been used etc...]
to Imogen Slaughter

[The Truth] [*Chuckles*Sorry trying to give things tailored to an investigator sort. If I give too much info in the posts please correct me!]
to Imogen Slaughter

[Sorrow] Kora lifts her pale brows in a neat furrow of a question. "Does that count, Roman?" Before he answers, though, he shakes her head and casts a look back to Alexa. "I don't think that counts, though. And Roman will be scandalized when he figures out what you really meat." Then, back to Roman, "Show me a cha-cha step."

[Alexa Thanos] There's a quiet chuckle from her at Sorrow's remark, and she looks between them after a brief glance to Imogen, to see what the Kinfolk was up to. She really is a quiet Garou. Not much for her to say, only the small quip here and there. They're all waiting to see what can be found out on the computers. Alexa doesn't even know how to turn one on.

[Imogen Slaughter] (hah, well, it's more that computers which are networked together and are not connected to the outside world aren't necessarily storage. *grin* so I wanted to see what details might make her think that.

and I just want to make sure that the whole "extension of the user's brain" thing is not like ... uh. Some weird weaver thing is it?)
to The Truth

[Roman Turner] Well, it ain't easy without music with the right beat, but it's simple enough. Just follow my moves."

Slowly he went from one foot to the other and back again with a rocking of hip and backside. After a few one two three steps slow enough to follow, he kicked in to full speed. His back straight and on each rocking cha cha cha step his hind end and hips made the proper rocking pop motion.

"It's better with music."

Yeah he could dance, infact he liked dancing despite it making Sparrow giggle at him.

[The Truth] [Sorry I'll try to give pure data! And let Imogen filter it as she sees it! What's the fun of playing an investigator sort if you don't get to... Umm... Investigate?]
to Imogen Slaughter

[Alexa Thanos] A young Garou, cowboy, telling the Get of Fenris how to do the Cha Cha and showing how in the middle of a warehouse that recently housed a spider man doctor, intent on making some monster-man-machine, out of soldier body parts -- Alexa absorbs it all in, the absurdity of it all and scrubs her hand through her mane of hair before looking out through the office door and onto the main floor.

She might as well do something, so with a small nod to the others, she left them in the office to wait for answers, and headed back to grab up a thick bristled broom to resume some scrubbing with bleach on the floors.

[Imogen Slaughter] (yep, exactly!

though, uhm. I have to go to bed and I know Roman and Sorrow have to as well. How do you want to handle this?)
to The Truth

[Roman Turner] So he gave his lesson in brief and after a bit like Alexa, he wanted off to his own chores here. His involved ratchets, screw drivers, drills, drill punch, saws all and even a welder's torch. Back to dismantaling he went. He wanted all the creatures to be headless, brains drained and limbs removed.

[The Truth] [*LOL*I might have to give the information out as private messages if people wanna do that!]
to Imogen Slaughter

[Roman Turner] (and now I must sleep for work) (Tank you)

[Imogen Slaughter] sure, sounds good to me.
to The Truth

[The Truth] [*Chuckles*Alright gfolks... Since I was late and kept everyone behind... I am gonna go ahead and send some private messages out to folks detailing what is found on the computers... I will also put up a little detail on the status of the War. I know what you all are looking for out of it so I will try to customize the posts so as to include what folks want!]
to Alexa Thanos, Imogen Slaughter, Roman Turner, Sorrow

[Alexa Thanos] [kay, thanks Nick!]
to Imogen Slaughter, Roman Turner, Sorrow, The Truth

[The Truth] [So yeah everyone can head off and I will get you all on umm... Whatchamacall it! The Forums!]
to Alexa Thanos, Imogen Slaughter, Sorrow

[Imogen Slaughter] (awesome. *bleary eyed* Thank you very much Nick! *Grin*)
to Alexa Thanos, Sorrow, The Truth

[Sorrow] (Thanks Nick! I'm going to drag Alexa off for fifteen minutes and then crawl off to bed, too. Appreciate both your patience and your accommodations!)
to Alexa Thanos, Imogen Slaughter, The Truth