the breed.

The television was on, but Johan wasn't paying it any attention. Vogel, the bird, seemed to be more transfixed with it, and it was only when a high pitched whistle filled the room that Johan gave any actual sign of life. But even then, he only turned his head toward the noise and registered Vogel sitting on the arm of the chair, head cocked the side while he watched Johan. They'd been doing the same dance for days, maybe weeks? Johan wasn't actually sure. The last date he could remember was June 6, but he had no idea how long ago that was, only that he'd gotten himself drunk and made some embarrassing remarks online. Then he'd left to try and find the vampire he'd turned. For possibly the four hundredth time, to no avail.

( Frustrated, he'd returned home and spent the entire time since being completely despondent and only really paying attention to Vogel's feeding and cleaning schedule. )

[Kiel]

It already felt weird. Unlike a majority of the events over the last month or more, however, it was a good kind of weird. Despite the fact that it had taken several repeats of the phrase, "I'm fine," and finally a stern gaze that was a little too feline to be harmless for the nurses to understand that he could dress himself, Carter was relieved that it was over. It had felt like months had passed under this roof without any sights or experiences beyond the walls of the hospital; weeks had been bad enough, all that time spent nodding along to doctors and nurses and whatever specialists were sent his way or called in during exams and tests. It just wasn't natural for a therianthrope to be trapped inside for that period of time; they were supposed to roam, be able to change and wander at will. Carter had been doing neither, not even permitted to walk around by himself. At first he hadn't even been able to walk, understandably, and hadn't so much as tried. He'd know, just lying there, that he hadn't had the strength for it, strange and unwelcome as that knowledge was in and of itself. It was the worst condition he'd ever been in, without contest, and one that he was in rush to be in again, at any point; something to be avoided in the future at all costs.

Sitting on the edge of the bed in the private room where he'd spent the last few weeks after being discharged from Intensive Care, shirt in his hands, he stared at the closed door, knowing his mother was out there somewhere, not far away. ( Since the riot, she'd been close by, constantly, something he had appreciated at first. Now he remembered, clearly, why he'd left home and travelled in the first place. )


[ narrative, closed ]

[ooc: backdated to early sunday morning]

For a lot of nurses, the late and odd hours were the things they had the biggest trouble getting used to. That wasn’t a problem for Gaby. Working at Velvet where the last folks left in the wee hours of the morning and the staff was there a while after that, then sometimes hanging out or having to study after she got off work meant that she was used to being up at all hours already. Plus winter was months away, so that perpetually tired hibernation business was not a problem right now. So the times weren’t a problem for her. But the schedule did sometimes mean going into or getting off work came at an hour when public transportation wasn’t entirely an option. And unlike at Velvet, at the end of the night everyone wouldn’t be getting off at the same time so bumming a ride wasn’t always easy. Not to mention that Gaby didn’t exactly know her new coworkers yet to be constantly bugging them for a ride. She’d never been one for depending on other people as it was. With the whole working two jobs thing, hopefully her not having a car was going to be a temporary situation anyway. But for now, when she was lucky, Gaby had been borrowing her cousin’s car and that was working out pretty well. Except for the fact that it was a pos very close to being on its last legs. Not that beggars could be choosers, so Gaby wasn’t complaining. At least, she wasn’t until the aforementioned pos decided to go and break down on her on the way home. Simple things she could handle- blown tire, overheating- but this thing was making noises that could only be described as something dying a horrible and agonizing death and smoking like a bbq grill. Plus it was pitch black out and like she had a light of any kind to even try and figure out what it was. Fantastic. At least she’d managed to steer the thing over to a decent spot to leave it parked on the side of the street where it wouldn’t get hit by any oncoming cars.

( Her first instinct was to get on her cell, wake her cousin up and rant at him for not keeping up his car better. )

[ooc:backdated to last night]

Now that it was summer, school wasn’t taking up a huge section on Barbara’s schedule, but she was still just as much of busybody as ever. She had more free time to spend with her family and was constantly helping the out with things. The latest had been helping Jerome get all the details for Vacation Bible School, as well as being one of the team leaders for the event. She had stepped up her volunteer hours just a bit, and had time to hang out with the girls a little more. Still, she did find time to slow down and do things she enjoyed, and just generally live a life that was not quite as hectic. With her penchant for places that were full of hometown character and charm, the Tattered Cover bookstore in LoDo was one of her favorites. Even though it was a chain it was a local chain and an awesome one at that. It was just so much more welcoming and inviting than some of the other places. And though she had absolutely no solid proof to back it up, she was convinced the chairs were even comfier. Also, they had an awesome coffee shop. That was a really big plus on top of it all. And it gave perfect opportunity for a little caffeine pick me up. No, she doesn’t have a thing for caffeine at all.

The bookstore was open later on the weekends, and though the hour was late enough that the sun had already set, there were plenty of patrons packed in and still an hour or so to go before close of the Saturday business day. Barbara had already been in the bookstore for a little while and had picked out a few paperbacks she was going to buy. To her credit, at least she hadn’t gone directly to the coffee shop first. But she’d known better than to tell herself the lie that she was going to avoid it altogether. After all, self-delusion is never a good thing. Taking her order from the barista, Barb’s ever present grin was in full effect, and she took a deep whiff of the aroma wafting up from the cup. Mmm, cinnamon. A glance around the coffee shop lead her eyes to the baked goods. Oooh, muffins! She really didn’t need a muffin. But they looked so yummy and she’d run into her classmate in the bookstore when she first got here so maybe she could get them to split one with her. That girl never turned down muffins. Surveying what other good things were on sale, she scooted around the display, having to look over someone’s shoulder to get a good look. Some might think that was rude, but it helped that Barb was on the tall side and if the person was at all offended they’d be met by a friendly grin. To muffin or not to muffin?

[open]

She had been exhausted before but somehow this time around the exhaustion seemed to reach new levels. If it wasn’t for caffeine she very much doubted she would be able to function at all, let alone properly. The coffee shop just outside the hospital had seen a significant rise in their profits in the last month and that was mostly due to Abby, but they weren’t likely to complain about that. There was no reason for her still to be staying at the hospital all the time, Carter was well and truly out of the woods and would be discharged soon but she still couldn’t bring herself to leave the grounds for too long just on the off chance that he had a random relapse. She knew this was stupid yet she continued to do it; much to the annoyance of Louis, she would have to buy a lot of catnip to make it up to him.

It had become a routine for her to buy at least two cups of coffee every time she went to the café so this time when she ordered two mochas and a latte the server didn’t even bat an eyelid. Once she had paid for the beverages she moved away from the counter and picked up one of the complimentary newspapers from a rack on the wall to see what had been happening in the wider world. It wasn’t long before the drinks were ready, so she placed the paper back in the rack and collected the drinks before leaving the small café. She had no intention of taking up one of the tables alone with three cups of coffee that would just look a bit weird, so she made her way back toward the hospital and the comfort of one of the doctor’s lounges. She quickly navigated the hustle and bustle of the hospital entrance making her way past the busy nurses station, smiling to the staff in the area; whilst she had apologised to the people she had been short with on the night of the riot there were still a couple of staff that seemed to be giving her a wide berth as if they were scared she would snap at them for no reason.

When she entered the lounge it was completely empty but the television had been left on by the last person who had been here, they had probably been paged for an emergency or simply forgot to turn it off when they left. Abby couldn’t be bothered to change the station from what it was currently, she wasn’t entirely sure but it looked like a news station. The doctor’s lounge was actually a fairly nice place; it was almost like a small studio apartment without a bed. It was equipped with a small kitchen area, a sofa and a couple of chairs, a rather large television mounted on the wall and a small breakfast bar island near the kitchen. Placing the cup holder tray down on the coffee table in front of the sofa she took off her white coat and draped it over the arm of the sofa before taking a seat herself and picking up one of the mochas.


[TOBIAS]

[Backdated to Monday night]

The bar was surprisingly empty, considering the time; Lia half expected to have to elbow some people out of the way to get through but no, there was more than enough space to navigate the floor easily. She glanced around for any signs of Natalya and, upon realising she hadn't arrived yet, decided to grab one of the open booths after ordering drinks for them both. Two cocktail glasses in hand she slid into one of the open seating areas, setting them down before tossing her hair and grabbing her mobile out of her purse so she could send a quick text message. "There'll be a drink waiting for you when you arrive." Then, tossing her phone back into her purse she began to absent-mindedly stir her drink with the little umbrella, scanning the club for anybody worth looking at as she waited for Nat.

After a moment she turned her attention back to her drink, severely disappointed with the eye candy (or lack thereof) at the venue. Still, she was happy to finally be able to unwind for the night. It had been a long Monday at the tail end of a long couple of weeks following the curfew and riots; the company had been inundated with calls from people wanting legal advice about how best to 'deal' with Others that they employ or are under the employment of. It was ridiculous, really. On top of that, the boss had everybody running around trying to find people who, with very little convincing, could be 'persuaded' that they may be able to claim some monetary compensation from the rioting action. This all meant that Lia actually had to do some real work for a change, shock horror, but it made a nice change from doing the filing (or both documents and her nails, of course).

She quickly shook her head. She most certainly did not want to be thinking of work after hours, and especially not when she intended to have a night of fun and frivolity! Glancing up at the doorway she spotted Natalya just entering, and straightened up to wave a little to catch her attention, grinning when she started heading over.

She slid the second glass across the tabletop as her drinking buddy for the night took a seat. "As promised, a Honeydew with your name on it."

( NATALYA )

His first day back, they'd stuck him at a desk with a stack of paperwork. It wasn't personal. Everyone who'd been bitten or scratched, everyone who was changing, was off the streets until the next full moon had passed, and after that it would be up for discussion. And as much as he hated paperwork, as much as he itched to get out there and do the job he was supposed to do after more than two weeks away, David couldn't blame them - he was contagious now, he was stronger than he knew how to compensate for, they couldn't risk it. They needed to cover their asses, and he was lucky they'd let him come in at all when they could have just insisted on another week off duty, another visit to the department shrink before she'd sign off on his return. At least he had something to do now besides sit around healing and thinking about the future. Even desk-bound, forms to fill out until his eyes crossed from skimming pages, at least he was back.

At first he could ignore the tightness in his chest, he could tell himself it was nothing and go back to crossing T's and dotting I's. As long as he took deep breaths, focused on the shuffle of papers and the stroke of his pen, he could keep it from getting worse, from getting overwhelming. He could keep himself under control, and that was the important part. If it was hard to breathe, if his blood was rushing in his ears and his heart was starting to pound, that didn't matter - he could just keep filling in blanks and it would go away. His hands would stop shaking. That sick, choking feeling in his throat would release. The dark clouds on the edges of his field of vision would fade, he'd be okay. It was nothing to worry about, nothing he couldn't handle, nothing he couldn't just ignore and work past.

( The pen slipped from his trembling fingers, skittering across the surface of the desk and clattering to the floor. )

( NARRATIVE )

There were farms. Farms, and farms and farms, as far as the eye could see. Suzie stared out the window of the red pick-up, her chin planted firmly in her hand. The driver was quiet; an unassuming fellow who kept to his own thoughts. Suzie enjoyed these drivers. She was in a retrospective mood, and as the countryside whipped past her she fell to musing, breaking her reverie on occasion to light a cigarette from the old truck lighter.

After a time the farms began to give way to houses, closer to the road. Some had their lights on, and Suzie could see figures moving about inside. The dull flicker of a television. A dog slumbering on the porch. Flicking her spent cigarette butt out the window, Suzie lent out into the night, breathing deep the smells of suburbia. It was in a neighbourhood like this where she had grown up, 50 years and a lifetime ago.

( Continued... )

(Open to anyone)

Graduation wasn’t a topic Gaby had been particularly chatty about. Not that she wasn’t looking forward to it- at this point in life there were few things that would make her happier than being done with school and not having to fork over the majority of her paychecks to Metro State. Or not having to bust her ass to make all the dance team practices so she could keep in good standing there and not lose her scholarship money, or not having to worry about keeping her grades up so she could stay in the nursing program and wouldn’t lose the rest of her financial aid. The dance team was actually a part of it she couldn’t exactly complain about because it had been pretty damn fun. All of those were pluses, and the list went on and on. So it wasn’t any of those things.

It was more of not completely looking forward to one period of her life ending and another one beginning. Now it was time for her to stop being a student and start being something close to a contributing member of society with a career. If you asked her, careers were kind of overrated. It wasn’t so much that Gaby disliked nursing or didn’t enjoy it as she just wasn’t deeply passionate about it. It had been a sensible, stable career choice where she knew she would always have work as well as be able to pull down pretty decent money. It was the kind of sensible, stable choice people who weren’t born with automatic access to a certain amount of money or privileges often had to make. And a choice that had largely been made on account of her father. (  On account of both her parents, really.  )

Bathory would be crowded tonight, packed full of vampires and humans alike looking for a good time, a raucous good time. People packed into the dance pit, into the booths and up against the walls, music pounding, and only god knew what kind of insanity playing out in the V.I.P. lounge. It was always a good decision, something to fall back on, but Briony knew the value of a little variety.

This bar was smaller, considerably more intimate, but still lively in its own way. The live band seemed to favor music of a Latin persuasion, and Briony couldn't help but bounce her leg in time with the music. She sat at the bar, far enough from the dance floor to avoid being dragged in, but close enough to watch the couples as they strutted, spun, and dipped across the waxed floor. All of them knew what they were doing and, while this vampire could certainly move, she'd leave this dancing to the pros.

Cool, pale fingers smoothed over the deep blue of her silk Versace dress and she crossed her legs, ever ladylike, turning on her barstool to face the 'tender. He was granted a smile and a fifty dollar bill -- in return, Briony happily received another mojito. Delicious.

[MR. BLACKWELL!]

Will stretched his arms over his head and arched his back, yawning. The yawn was a purely human habit, and his back made a most satisfying cracking noise as he leisurely made his way to the front door of Beta. He was still in work attire, as he had stayed rather late in the office, working hard... if by working hard meant entertaining the secretary in his office. The evidence of this was his rumpled clothes and undone tie, and if one looked carefully, the faintest bit of lipstick on his neck. He sailed into the club, past the pulsating bodies writhing to the thumping bass music. Even though he had been in the club for less than a minute, the effect was instantaneous - a pack of girls had spotted and sailed over to him, leading him to his table. He looked them over; they were attractive enough, and although he fed...

He grinned widely, showing white teeth, and was it just the trick of the light? the slightly elongating of his canines. Perhaps it was just a bit cliche of him, but he found that young, female blood was the most delicious to him. Perhaps it was there life force, but he derived the most taste from them. In all his two hundred years, he found that these type of young girls never really changed - the spirited, outgoing ones that were looking for fun.

So there he was, in the middle of the table, laughing and chatting with them. They were from the university, all majoring in different things - he couldn't have bothered to remember them all, really. He was downing alcohol, the effects of which were less than nothing to him. He watched with amusement as the girls grew drunker and drunker, and found that one had taken his tie. He leaned teasingly over to the offending thief, when the lights suddenly dimmed and changed, and...

Go go dancers. Suddenly he remembered the new friend he had made on his journal last night, a Miss Maggie. He gave an interested glance at the girls emerging in their scant outfits - she had said that one of them were her. So which was it? He leaned back, placing his hands behind his head in the booth that he occupied, wondering if he could accurately place her. No doubt though, he definitely should have made more appearances in this club prior. The dark haired one was very pretty, he noted, with the big green eyes that made all sorts of promises to the audience.

[ CALLING MAGGIE, AND ELOISE, IF SHE WANTS TO JOIN?? ]

Strange how something that felt like such a long time coming could crop up so suddenly. Cass wasn't surprised in the slightest; he'd been waiting for this or something like this to happen, waiting for the flaws in the Locard family's plan to become so apparent that they were impossible to ignore. Cass had felt the wildness in his friend since the very first time they met. Whether it was due to his parentage or some intrinsic nature of Connell's personality hadn't mattered then, though it certainly helped Cass make some sense of what he was seeing when he found out the details later on. Connell was a feral wolf. Not feral in the sense that he couldn't play with others, but feral in the sense that he couldn't be tamed, and all the housebreaking in the world -- little bite-sized lessons on what was permissible among the confines of humanity's social rules -- couldn't rid him of the laws of nature that he would always live by. He knew, to some degree, that the Locards weren't trying to get rid of his wolfish ways entirely because they too were wolves who understood the way his instincts called him, but he could also see their parental longing with the practiced eye of a foster child, that desire to bring him into their family as the son and child they wanted to protect. And in the end, their neat little family dynamic was a human construction. It wasn't just about pack anymore. Cass was waiting for the day when Connell would realize that consenting to play house was getting in the way of his ability to be the powerful wolf that would always come first and foremost.

Cass was still healing in some ways from the riot and that made his proposition even more dangerous, but outwardly, he looked unharmed enough that he was willing to take the risk of coming into Locard territory with forewarned challenge. He wasn't going to fight Rowan or Elsa. Even at full health and close to a full moon, that would be a laughably impossible ordeal. He was too young and inexperienced, and smart enough to know better than to walk to his own suicide. Cass was only coming to make a stand. Locking Connell in the house during a major civil rights event, ordering him home with all of their alpha wolf authority when his friends were still picking up the pieces of their lives, and overall treating him like a child to be grounded for his disobedience and his own protection -- that wasn't how a wolf like Connell should be treated, and he wanted Connell to know that this? Wasn't his only option. That he could have a place with his peers, as a near equal to Cass himself, and that the Locards' authority wasn't the final authority.

And that was why he was standing on their front lawn. He'd made his presence known with a brief howl before shifting back. Proud, focused, and holding himself carefully to avoid giving evidence of whatever remaining pain he was in. The way a true Alpha should.

[open to rowan, elsa, connell, & allison]

Eloise. Was. Bored.

This was all she could think as she hopped up onto the counter, swinging her legs as she bounced a tiny rubber ball off the nearby display of Arizona tea. The ball bounced off the wooden shelf with a monotonous thunk- thunk- thunk- until Eloise was unable to catch it and it flew past her head, knocking over a small cardboard box of protein powder. El watched it happen and made a face but did not move to right the spilled little packets. Here she was, three-thirty in the morning, Smoothie King issued teal polo, cheerful yellow hat perched at an awkward, jaunty angle on her head. Her normally out of control waves were momentarily tamed in a messy bun, and she twisted a stray flyaway curl between her fingers as she stared out the window.

Who would ever think anyone would want a smoothie at three-thirty in the morning? It just didn't seem very logical to Eloise, and even though she didn't particularly like the 11-6 shift no one else would work it so the owner was practically begging her to. Her butt began to fall asleep, so the small girl hopped off the counter to circuit the cramped health food store again, straightening any crooked granola or power bars she missed the last time she circled the store. Especially since everyone still seemed spooked about the riot, there was no activity on the streets outside lit by the dim, reluctant street lights.

With a heavy sigh, she scooted back around the counter to pick up the protein that had been spilled by the over-excited bouncy ball (which had bounced away to some undisclosed location) and fiddled with the Muzack. Delighted to hear Soundgarden trickle out of the tinny speakers, Eloise turned it up before draping herself back over the counter, singing along as the song hit the chorus, though her cheerful soprano sounded a little strange against the melancholy lyrics. "Black hole sun, won't you come and wash away the rain? Black hole sun, won't you coooooooooome." Sure, she wasn't exactly supposed to turn the Muzack up that load. And she really wasn't supposed to lay on the counter. But Eloise was bored and she was really beyond caring about doing what she was supposed to do. She kept her ears pricked for the familiar jingle of the bell over the door signaling a customer, but it was a half-hearted effort at this point.

[open!]

It was a 14 hour and 44 minute drive from LA to Denver.  Rafe had split it into a two day trip but it wasn't easy.  None of this was easy.  He knew what he was supposed to do to survive and he knew that his instincts kicked in and took over and he felt completely out of control.  He knew he was still so pissed off.  Maybe it wasn't a good idea for him to see Maggie yet.  What if he hurt her?  Would he have enough control not to bite her?  Fuck it, he had no clue how this shit worked.  Leaving the coven in LA so soon probably wasn't his best move.  It was a rash decision and that was just Rafe.  Typically, he didn't question such impulsiveness but this was his baby sister.  He'd already let himself get too thirsty once.  It hadn't been pretty and when it was all over he couldn't believe he was capable of being such a monster.  Christ, if he fucked up with Maggie...  He just couldn't think about it.

Maggie was going to be pissed at him to begin with.  He'd been gone five years and called her maybe twice.  Yeah, he was a jackass of a big brother.  He was a jackass period.  At least he'd...fed already.  A glance in his rear view mirror and he was thankful he had his sunglasses.  Would Maggie question why he wore them when the sun was down?  Probably not.  She'd probably just assume he was high.  He wished he could get high.  He couldn't seem to fucking take enough to feel anything and if he did feel something, it was gone all too quickly.  One more reason to be pissed.

The past week had pretty much been a blur; ever since that fateful full moon which had seen one of her friends rushed in with near fateful gunshot wounds. As she walked down the corridor from her office to the ICU to check on him Abby realised she must look a mess, well a mess for her anyway. She had been sleeping in her office at the hospital since the night of the riot only really going home to grab a change of clothes, take care of Louis and make sure he had food; she would have asked someone from her building to check on him but knowing how he reacted to strangers that wouldn’t have been a good idea. True there were plenty of doctors at the hospital who could monitor Carter’s condition but she wanted to be close at hand in case anything happened, like a bad reaction to the blood transfusions or any other number of things that could still go wrong.

As she continued down the corridor passing staff and visitors she caught snatches of conversations here and there, not that she was eavesdropping but it just couldn’t be helped when you had good hearing. On more than one occasion since Carter’s admittance to the ER Abby had heard whispers about her and how she had snapped at a poor nurse in the trauma room. She was going to have to start apologising to people soon or risk ending up with a reputation as a bit of a bitch and she really didn’t want that. Entering the ICU she smiled at the nurses at the desk as some of them looked up at her; she had become a common sight to most of the staff that worked in the department in the past week but as usual she didn’t stop to talk to anyone just carried on to her destination.

Opening the door to the private room she was met with a now familiar sight, Carter Harrington in the bed still in a coma, as he had been since he had arrived and Helena Harrington sitting on a chair not far from his bedside. Abby took a couple of seconds to take in the readings from the many monitors hooked up to the male, looking for any subtle changes in his condition but they appeared much the same as when she had last been in the room. Turning her attention towards the other occupant of the room Abby noticed how weary she appeared, thinking on it only briefly she decided she couldn’t keep quiet any longer. "Mrs Harrington you haven’t really had any sleep since you got here. There is a sofa in my office, you should use it. I’ll make sure no one disturbs you unless there is a change in Carter’s condition," she said softly but in a way that told the other female it wasn’t really open for debate.

[CARTER]

[backdated to the night of the riot]

From the moment a curfew had been issued there had been no doubt in her mind that it would end badly at some point, she just wasn’t sure how long it would take before something triggered it off. She had heard many people talking about a protest tonight and whilst she knew people who would probably go Abby had too much to lose by attending; instead she had chosen to spend the night at home in the safety of her apartment.

Whilst she would have loved to spend the entire night lounging around in leopard form she just had too much work to be done, so after spending the last couple of hours on the balcony soaking up the final rays of sunlight of the day Abby decided it was time to do something slightly more taxing. Taking one final satisfying stretch she changed back and walked into the apartment heading straight for the kitchen. As she turned her coffee maker on to brew she wondered if the protesters were having any success with getting their voices heard.

Normally when she worked at home she put the stereo on and played some music but tonight she opted for the television instead. As she settled on the sofa with her laptop in hand and a rather large mug of coffee on the side table she turned to one of the many news stations her cable service provided. At first she paid little attention to what the news reader was reporting on, concentrating on the case report that she had been sent from a hospital in Chicago but she was suddenly distracted from her reading by the sound of angry voices coming from the direction of the television. It didn’t take long to figure out what was being shown; it was the protest which rapidly seemed to be descending into anarchy. Discarding her laptop on the seat beside her she turned her full attention to the live news report; this really was going to go badly.

Watching on with something close to horror the protest quickly turned in to a full scale riot. Abby really hoped no one she knew was there. As time passed the reporter kept relaying what exactly was happening on the scene although she paid more attention to the action that was being played out on the screen. It was complete madness; there were all manner of therianthropes in animal form running around trying to keep out of the way of projectiles and the advancing riot police. ( Suddenly out of nowhere there was the sound of a gun being discharged )

[NARRATIVE]

The phrase ‘out of hand’ no longer applied to the riot consuming the centre of the city of Denver. There were bodies lying motionless on the street, some showing signs of life, others still in every sense of the word. Darts, broken or discarded, littered the concrete along with electrodes and guns, nightsticks and shields and helmets, even protective vests. There was blood splashed over the dark asphalt. Stains and imperfections to further emphasise the chaos of the night. It was hard to say where exactly it had gone so horribly wrong. The demonstration itself had been set up with the best intentions, but there had been those in the crowd who had set out to make trouble not only for the cops but those around them; trouble for the sake of trouble. The police presence hadn’t helped anything at all, and of course, there was no denying that the use of force in the form of tranquilisers and tasers had been a mistake. People had gotten hurt. Killed. No one had planned for this.

Sirens screamed and lights flared through the night under the glow of the full moon. Decisions were made quickly, trying to put an end to the rioting before it could flood through the entire city and pull in more innocent bystanders. It was time for damage control. People weren’t going to like it, but they couldn’t just let the fighting rage on until it ended naturally.

The canisters were launched from several points into key areas within the surging crowd, the clouds of thick tear gas billowing out and spreading, creating a blanket over the protestors and the cops alike. It wasn’t just one party who had lost their way tonight, but all of them. The police had gotten out of hand, taking actions that hadn’t been approved beforehand; the footage on the news was ugly, shocking. The city officials and the force itself were going to be hearing about it for weeks. Months, even.

Even as the gas spread throughout the crowd, figures darted out from the sweeping smog, bolting down the street at either end or down alleys intersecting the city centre, not all of them bipedal. Many had already been forced down to the ground, cuffs locked around their wrists, to be taken away to local stations when things calmed down. The new officers waited on the periphery of the riot to catch any stragglers who tried to get past them, ambulances hanging back with the paramedics restlessly waiting in their seats to deal with the wounded, whether they be human, therianthrope or vampire.

No one was going to be forgetting May’s full moon in Denver for a long time to come. That much was certain.


[ narrative, closed. please see the following ooc post for wrap-up details ]

[backdated to saturday night]

Saturday night found Barbara in her apartment having a girls night in with a few of her sorority sisters, including her roommate. The night had been a welcome bit of relaxation before the stress of finals, full of talking, laughing and bonding. All the fun came to an end as soon as the news reports started. For a few minutes she watched in dismay as the riot went on, still in slight disbelief that something like this was happening in their city in this day and age. Once the shock wore off, Barb whipped out her cell phone to get in touch with her family. With the city in such turmoil, the Joyce family phone tree was in action. Her parents were at home and her brother was at the church, keeping it open for any members or anyone else who might need a safe haven tonight. A certain percentage of New Birth’s congregation were known Others, and each Joyce did their best to touch base with as many of them as possible, making sure they were out of harm’s way and urging them to stay that way. Barb had to leave more voicemails than she was comfortable with, and it left her fretful and restless enough that she didn’t even realize she’d started pacing.

Barbara’s tromping back and forth across the living room was not missed by her sorors. They had agreed it was best if they all stayed where they were for the night, so the small group was going to be sleeping over. With the events going on in the city, and a group of young women who got along with each other but for all intents and purposes were stuck where they were for the night, a little bit of tension was inevitable. A few of them didn’t understand why Barbara was so upset. It wasn’t her fight, after all- she was normal. If anything, she should be mad at the freaks tearing up the city right now. Really they should all know better than to say something like that to someone who was never hesitant to kindly offer her opinion, even if it did contradict that of those around her. She couldn’t believe they were being so insensitive. No, the protest and riot that resulted had not been the right thing to do, but neither had been imposing a curfew on all the Others in the city in the first place. It always truly baffled her how sometimes minorities were the harshest judges of anyone else who found themselves with that label for different reasons than themselves. You wouldn’t think it was possible, but somehow it was. The discussion did get a little bit heated as everyone eventually joined, but after a while things settled down with both sides agreeing to disagree for the sake of being able to get some sleep at some point.

Retreating to the corridor outside her apartment, Barbara dialed her brother’s number again. He was fine, and so was everyone else at the church. None of the commotion had gotten that far. On a night like this, that was a very welcome blessing. Now that they both had a moment to breathe, they could talk for longer than before. Barb was one of those people who knew there were many problems in the world but was always armed with a kind word or a good deed or a helping hand to help combat them. She was a very ‘be the change you want to see in the world’ type person, but at the moment that just didn’t seem to be enough. While each member of the Joyce family did try to set themselves as examples and were advisors to others to a certain degree, they were all still humble enough to admit when they were at a loss. Most of all Barbara, who was well aware by sheer qualifications that she fell at the bottom of that totem pole. Jerome listened to her frustrations, as well as voicing a few of his own before giving his sister the best advice he could at the moment- pray for them. Those at the riot, those stuck at home watching it, those who were going to be affected by the aftermath of this- everyone. The whole city. Some might think it was a passive solution at the moment, but Barbara knew how much good a seemingly simple act like that could do and what it could accomplish. And with the way things were looking right now, they were all going to need whatever help they could get in whatever form it might come.

[narrative, closed]