Encounterlogs
Declans Odd Encounter Sr Vindicta 241102
In the aftermath of Halloween's chaos in Haven, with casualties from both civilians and a dragon-led assault by Gonthorian's cult, Declan finds himself keeping watch over his comatose colleague in the safety of a hospital room. Their peace is disturbed by the arrival of a young man, desperate and scared, carrying an ancient artifact of demonic origin claiming it attracts danger and is in need of safekeeping. Declan, albeit with no ability to read minds or delve into supernatural studies, senses the urgent threat the artifact poses, drawing upon recent reports of powerful objects falling into dangerous hands. He decides to take responsibility for the artifact, contacting the Haven chapter for advice, only to find himself ensnared in an increasingly sinister situation as the item begins to exhibit a threatening warmth and attracts unwanted attention from potentially hostile forces.
The situation escalates as Declan attempts to evade what he perceives to be followers, likely members of The Destined Host due to the cryptic symbols spotted on bystanders. Utilizing evasive maneuvers and driving in circles around Haven to lose any tails, he urgently seeks reinforcement from the Temple. His plea for assistance is met with a cryptic response and an eventual dramatic intervention by a so-called "Rabbit Team," a group of operatives in black with distinctive orange streaks. After an intense confrontation involving smoke grenades and visible confrontations right outside a trailer park, the artifact is ultimately secured by the mysterious team, leaving Declan bewildered but relieved, pondering over the symbols he had seen which hinted at the possible ingression of The Destined Host into Haven. Despite the ordeal, the artifact is removed from his hands, and Declan is left ruminating on the day's events, considering the implications for Haven's safety and his own role within these unfolding supernatural skirmishes.
(Declan's odd encounter(SRVindicta):SRVindicta)
[Fri Nov 1 2024]
In hospital room 2
This room is sparsely furnished, the sanitary white walls a perfect match
to the linoleum floor and the thin hospital sheets on the gurney that serves
as a bed. A small television mounted in the upper corner of the room is set
at a low volume, and a thin curtain bisects the room in an effort to afford
privacy to the occupant on the other side.
It is dawn, about 48F(8C) degrees, and there are a few wispy white clouds in the sky.
(Your target and their allies are approached by a seemingly harmless and desperate citizen, who claims to have stumbled upon an ancient artifact. They want it to be safely stored away, fearing its potential power. However, upon further investigation, the characters realize that the artifact is of demonic origin and is sought after by The Destined Host. Now they must decide whether to save the artifact to potentially use against the demons, destroy it, or let it fall into the hands of The Destined Host. This decision could significantly affect their future interactions with the faction.)
Declan doesn't look especially busy, sitting watch in the hospital room with a half-glazed over look.
Hospital room two, though quiet, has a dark cloud lingering within courtesy of the prior night's activities. Halloween in Haven is always a crap shoot, but thus far this year seems to have certainly taken the cake- civilians gunned down in the streets by cultist snipers, a small and peaceful Inn where LARPers tend to gather finding itself the target of hostile forces. And then to top it all off, red dragons pouring from the skies with sorcerers upon their backs, raining down fire magic on the buildings as much as the people. There were heavy casualties on both sides, but for now it seems that the members of Gonthorian's cult have been run from town. Despite this, the tension in the air is palpable, and as Declan sits at the bedside of his comatose comrade in arms, and local Deputy who had responded to the threat, things aren't looking great. They aren't as grim as they had been- she is on the road to recovery- but she is still unconscious, twitching on occasion, fighting her own internal demons and nightmares.
Nurses come and go, cleaning her, changing her fluids, emptying her catheter, and thankfully with no mention of her dark secret. HIPA is strictly enforced, the White Oak group incredibly professional about it all. Peace, silence, but not calm, is the flavor of the day.
Declan has no ability to read minds whatsoever, but thinks that the sleeping bunny-deputy likely doesn't have pleasant sleep. It's something that he can often relate to. He's not sure about the extent of her suffering though, and is stuck glancing at the clock and wishing he brought a book or more phone games.
There are no books in this room, but there is a television. At some point during the day a nurse, or maybe a visitor, had turned it on and flipped it to a children's education channel. Arthur! plays, an episode where Muffy and her family have a robot butler that threatens to replace their normal, faithful one. It's nothing that would keep an adult truly entertained, but it is background noise, and something to pass the time. There is a remote control nearby offering more mature options, lingering on the Deputy's bed, close to her fingers- perhaps in case she wakes up and prefers to watch something else.
There are no signs of life beyond her breathing and the nearby monitor that beeps out her slow heartbeat, but there is food left for Declan, and soon, non sleeping company. A young man darts in from the south, something in his arms all bundled up and held close to his chest. His wild brown eyes scan the room, and then fall upon Declan. "H-Hey! Are you the Deputy? I... I found something. Something dangerous, I think. It was left behind by the c-... It was left behind last night after the mass shooting. I think it's trouble, big trouble," the late-teens boy insists.
"Why do you bother sanitizing your language in here?" Declan asks the boy from his seat, having reduced the TV's volume to almost mute. But it's enough of an intrusion that he's enticed to stand, feeling his knees click from the motion and giving his neck a roll and momentary adjustment. He opens his arms and makes sure to interpose himself between boy and bed, but asks, "How do you know it's trouble? Let me see."
"Sanitizing my... Oh," says the boy, taking a step back when Declan rises and then puts himself between the newcomer kid and the comatose woman. "Are... You the Deputy..?" he asks again, clutching that bundle of cloth a bit closer to his chest as he starts to scan Declan for some sign of his being law enforcement: a badge, a police-issue weapon, maybe. All of which, or some of which, the dark-haired man might have if he kept hold of his partner's personal effects- it would only take a brief glimpse, but a lingering look offered from it would show that while it is official, it is not Declan's, and his cover would be blown. "I just.. The Cultists of Gonthorian, last night a dragon rider crashed to the ground right in front of me, and they were holding this... Thing. I think it's demonic... It's some kind of stone tablet with sigils? Or maybe a summoning circle? I.. I'm not sure. I can't read it." His eyes tick again towards the comatose femme curiously, like his mind is working. Producing smoke out of his ears proverbially.
Declan did glean over the rest of the info regardless in case it might prove useful. It's not at the forefront of his mind as he confronts the kid, and not being much of a spy himself, doesn't attempt to put on a character. He's honest about it. "She's a coworker and friend." A powerful MacGuffin, says the kid? It causes him to raise an eyebrow. Reports of objects of power smuggled through the portals and ending up in the hands of unsavory parties have been increasingly frequent in the past year, which doesn't bode well for a world with a timer stuck into it. "I can hold onto it for her for you." He crouches. "Come on."
"... What happened to her?" asks the guy who isn't quiet short enough to crouch in front of without it seeming just plain demeaning. He's at least a college kid, but he sighs and accepts his fate- older folks always view their juniors as little more than babies, but it goes both ways- the younger generations call all the older ones geriatrics. Declan receives this same treatment, the boy saying: "Are you gonna be able to stand back up, old timer?" It said with genuine concern and a furrow of his brow as he approaches, passing the bundle of cloth off to the Templar with a schooled expression on his face. It's warm even with all of that clothing wrapped around it, and seems to pulsate with a radiating heat that makes it grow a degree hotter every few minutes. Slow going, but ultimately if it continues it will catch on fire. Maybe it should be put on ice? Or destroyed, at the very least.
Declan might've not crouched at all if the 'boy' was actually college aged instead of, well, a lad. But he's not sure about the age range of the academy nowadays, except for knowing that it handles nearly all ages of schooling in town. "She got too many fireballs from one of those dragon riders." He himself has some singes on his clothing to make it more convincing even if he's not seriously hurt. Wiggly fingers as he accepts the artifact, which he knows at a touch even with lacking supernatural studies to be bad news. The only thing missing is the thing whispering to him in Black Speech. He frowns at it. "Yeah. You were right to bring this to us," he says more seriously. "Thanks."
"Oh..." says the young man as his big brown eyes shift back to the sleeping Deputy in a sympathetic glance before he draws his eyes back to Declan, a bit more information needing to be shared, then: "Listen... Ever since that thing started getting hotter, there have been people following me," he whispers, glancing over his shoulder towards the door as though to check and make sure that it is still closed. "I can't prove it. I haven't seen them, but I can *feel* it. Just.. You know when it's... That feeling you get? Like you're being watched?" he wonders hopefully as he stares at Declan, only an inch or two shorter than him, but still making it seem like he has to crane his neck to look up at the Templar. "I can't explain it any way other than that. Someone wants it, or maybe they want me, I don't know. But I know that me and that tablet are safer apart one way or another."
"Not wrong. That'd be true of me, too, though, and I'm not tougher than you are." Declan closes one eye in a facsimile of a wink, but it stays shut too long. He leaves the cloth wrapped over the artifact and chooses to tuck it underarm if it's not too bulky, already making a silent report to the rest of Haven chapter via a private channel. 'Possible relic found off a cultist, likely needs containment. White Oak. Please advise.' Now, whether double agents can read that and compromise him is a nother matter, but he doesn't think it likely. He'll need help from now on. "Do me a favor and make sure they don't skip her meds." He starts to exit the hospital room and continues towards the exit.
"But I'm not a doctor! I'm in school for an Engineering... Degree.." says the kid as Declan walks off regardless, leaving the college-goer to mind the sleeping woman while the Templar becomes a man on a mission. It doesn't take long for the trouble to start. For that feeling to set itself in- the paranoia, the skitzophrenia. Voices whispering about him, eyes upon him though somehow unseen. A figure walks past, bumping into him- were they just trying to take the bundle that he has set so securely in his arms? Or maybe their arm just got caught... Strange. Worth investigating? Maybe, maybe not. What is this? What's going on? Suddenly the whole town, every worker, every civilian, they seem to be staring at Declan, meeting his eyes briefly and then awkwardly looking away. It can't be that coincidental, can it?
"Doctor... engineer ... same thing." Declan knows he's not got something on his face, and knows his zipper is up. So it can't be either of those. The bundle does look suspicious but that by itself shouldn't be drawing this kind of attention, he might reckon were he entirely rational. He isn't, though. He's getting to his car and preparing to drive off, waiting for a Temple escort that each second seems more likely to be a trap. He pulls out of parking to begin to drive in circles and see who might be repeats.
Well, Haven is a small town- repeats are hard to avoid. Just about everyone that Declan passes in his circling is a repeat. The problem is, he's lived here for a while. He knows the townies, the repeat visitors, even the criminals by face. Some of these faces are in familiar places where others should be. Those are the ones that really stick out- the ones that are where others once were. The girl behind the counter at black rose is now a tall, dusky-skinned male with dark eyes staring out of the window, watching the Templar drive by with a steeled stare barely visible from the distance, but present. A group of familiar college students crosses the road, forcing Declan to either stop or mow them down, they glance at him regardless, but they seem to check out for now. A box? Will a box stop this heat increase? Is there a *cap* to this heat increase, or will it keep growing and growing in temperature until the Earth glows as brightly as the Sun in less that thirteen years? Is Declan holding Doomsday in his hands?
Declan is not a trained agent, but has worked with American alphabet agencies in the past. Even if he isn't, and didn't, one doesn't need either experience to notice the discrepancies. But the textbook methodology does make some of them more blatant than others, and the unpleasant question of where the expected persons in each spot are. Likely, only drugged for a day, but that might not always be true.
Swiping at his brow, he makes one more round of northside then starts to cross the bridge before the tail gets the idea to .. blow up the bridge or something. Then, remembering that Sanctuary makes that impossible, it could be a mere roadblock going home. He glances at his phone while driving to check if High Command's given any response. "Come on, I can't fend off all these folks."
A blip. Information sent back, a distorted voice speaking in a fried and high-pitched squeal. "Reinforcements on the way. Find a place to park. Rabbit Team en route." Friend or foe, it is very hard to tell. It could be a new branch of the Strike Force or the Demolishers as easily as it could be a group of enemy hostiles intercepting and interfering. Declan will have to make a judgment call himself on this one. Regardless, a low flying helicopter buzzes overhead and then keeps moving south down Prospect Street, East on Hart Avenue, then slowly descends on top of the Antlers Hotel. A group of three darkly-dressed people jump out, but their faces, the details of their clothing, any form of weapons they may have, are starkly invisible as of yet. Too far away, and moving far too quickly and efficiently to get a read on. One thing is clear about them: they wear all black, save for vertical lines streaking the sides in an orange almost deep enough to be red, but not quite.
It's times like this that Declan regrets not upgrading his shitbox of a car. He really should do something about that. Now, it's not likely to make a difference in a town the size of Haven, especially against a chopper, but the extra confidence and reliability would be nice. Instead of taking the usual turn on Ocean home, he once again does a little bit of literal defensive driving and circles through the trailer park. Now on voice, he speaks into his phone, "Close to baseball diamond. If you're not here shortly, making for Temple Steel." Beginning to sweat even with the AC on, though that might be a side effect of other draconic events today, he adds, "At least three important assets sighted, likely more awaiting activation."
"Assigned relief inbound," says that frazzled voice coming from Declan's phone. "Remain in the area, Hayes. We'll collect the item from you shortly and ship it to headquarters for assessment. Do you have a description?" It's getting warmer- another pulse of heat causes the man's sweat to begin to drip down his face. The trailer park typically has its roads, rows, and ways mostly if not completely empty, but the more he drives loops, the more people seem intent to come out of their trailer homes, almost as if called by something, or perhaps simply curious about the car that keeps driving around and around. Is this more paranoia? More coincidence? Hard to say. The line blurs with such an important package in tow. "Five minutes until contact. Keep calm. Rabbit Team will arrive shortly."
Declan curses and slams on the horn as a pickup decides to exit its driveway right as he's going almost at speed. "Fuck me! Hey, out of my..." Backing up, he tries to speed around the blocker and reaches into his pocket to pull out some leftover tissues from breakfast. "Why's it important what it looks like?" he quizzes the dispatch, although he's popped the object into the passenger seat to do so and tried to clumsily unwrap the cloth covering to get a look and at least some idea on how to answer this question even if he might not necessarily do so. "Four minutes?"
"One minute," the voice continues. Declan starts to slowly unwrap the item, which at first seems to be little more than a stone tablet with demonic symbolism etched into it- however the more it is unwrapped, and the longer, the hotter it seems to get in his car. The more it seems to glow. Brighter and brighter, almost blinding, he needs to wrap it back up lest it potentially burst or take his sight permanently. Even looking away afterwards with the tablet concealed, the man will have one big black dot right in the middle of his vision for a while as he's driving. "Rabbit Team is moving through the baseball diamond now. No report of vehicular activity. Have you moved?" they ask, the driver of that pickup truck glaring into Declan's car as he lays on the horn and passes by. Off in the distance, there is movement in the tall grass- three figures dressed in black disappear in the shade of the trees, each wearing gas masks of some sort that conceal their faces. The lead being has a feminine build and atop her hooded head are black latext bunny ears that point straight upwards. Behind her, a lean man with antlers on his hood that splay out in many directions. Behind him, even, is a far larger brute of a man, equally in all black with the faint sheen of two orange stripes visible. The same people from the Antlers. The biggest man has a mass of something metal on his back, giving him the bulky shoulders of a bear.
groans and puts the cloth back in place clumsily, and it's still making his car brighter than the outdoors at this hour. It's definitely -something- important, that's all he needs to know. "In motion. Have enemies in visual ... still three." Declan does resolve the details of the lead being and her ears in short order, and squints. "Unless that's you." He considered the possibility, but dismissed it out of an increasing awareness of his own growing paranoia before realizing that he may indeed need to engage in car-fu. "Rabbit team, throw your arms up and hop like bunnies."
"Be serious, Hayes," scolds the phone voice in that electronically fried manner. "Hit the brakes. Stay calm. Here they come." And the moment the voice finishes speaking, the call is hung up. First something flies out of the tall grasses right in front of Declan's car whether he stops or not. If he drives over it, well, he's going to be right in the middle of the cloud caused by a tossed out smoke grenade.
Something hits the hood of his car- it sounds like the hooves of a dear jumping on top of it from one side, an then a swift streak of black and orange sees it leaping down the other side, rushing towards a crowd of onlookers an ultimately making them scatter from the area as that lean-muscled being tilts its head down, likely bearing its antlers.
A loud crash resounds from directly in front of the car then, too, that mountain of muscle with a bulge on its back slamming directly into a truck that was likely looking to meet Declan's car in a head-on collision, now tossed onto its side as the big guy barrels into it without hesitation.
The passenger side door of the Templar's car is unlocked from the outside amidst all of this, and a feminine figure with bunny ears upright slips inside, her features concealed by her all-black mask with large goggles for eyes and air purification canisters around the mouth. She asks sternly: "Hayes. Excellent work. The Temple will take this to headquarters now."
Declan suppresses an eye twitch. Poor operational handling, both on his part and that of the wider Temple, he might be thinking, though it's up to that other guy to see if insurance will pay off his car. Maybe he can have the busted truck for cheap and sell off this damn thing. He allows himself to relax if only for a moment, somewhat shocked at the overt performance of what-must-be Demolishers - or possibly Temple Cleaners - in town. One of those days, isn't it? He slowly turns to the bunny-woman and reaches to touch the artifact first. "Okay. If you're my contact, what's my Temple serial number?" He knows better than to pick a fight he can't win, but at least he'll know how badly he fucked up if ever.
There is an expanded moment of silence that lasts little more than a blink's duration as the woman in the mask stares at Declan, then snags the artifact in her arms, making to disappear from the car as quickly as she had arriv3ed, though she pauses after jumping out of the door. "Our Officer calls you 'Heyhayes'. I suppose that is it," she reports, leaping onto the roof and landing on what sounds like softly-padded feet before the shrouded form of her tiny body is seen jumping back down on the driver's side. "We'll be in touch," she reports, glancing over her shoulder at the black-haired masc before darting westward into the Moore Woods with the rest of her team, using the lingering smoke as cover for their escape. When it clears, Declan is surrounded by trailer trash taking pictures and videos, screaming about this amazing car accident that happened on Dandilion Parkway, but there is no mention of the strike team that had made the briefest and most veiled of appearances. Apparently no one saw them- only a few civilians murmur of a rabid stag that came charging through, likely being what caused the accident in the first place.
"So. Can I have your number?" Declan can't help but shout in the wake of the bunny-woman, chuffed and glad to be rid of the artifact, for better or for worse. He no longer thinks the trailer trash are about to put him on a stake and use his guts for kobold and lead-rich boar sausages, so he simply eyes the gathering after the coast is clear and the operatives have made their way home and starts to drive slowly through them. "It was just a really big moose, don't worry about it," he insists to a gawker on his way out of the park.
Just a big moose is the story that Declan puts out, and though it conflicts with the stag story, it seems to eventually overtake it- not quite entirely, but mostly. Just as soon as they had appeared, they are gone, that Rabbit team, and the artifact is seemingly in far better hands. Driving through now Declan is less pressured, he would notice strange symbolism on the out of place faces- their jewelry, their clothing, all bearing some strange insignia: a crimson hand holding a blackened, thorned crown. The Destined Host. If he knows, then he knows, but if he doesn't, well, the strange image may mean little to nothing to him at all. He passes a news crew on his way out as they rush in for the scoop.
Declan does recognize the symbols, but at this stage does nothing about them directly. It's a future Decks problem, but it does at least tell him they might've gotten those eye-searing tablets if not for a meddling kid college student and a crusty veteran. He needs a beer.
(Your target has been abducted and is being held hostage by a supernatural criminal out to trade them for something or just use them as a shield against the factions. Your target must attempt to find a way to escape, or simply survive until they can be rescued by their allies.
)
Waking up in the afternoon is not unusual after a late Halloween night. Many wake up in strange places, maybe they had a one night stand. Or got too drunk. Or crashed at a party. But Maxine(fox), she must've went out as a Fox. Maybe she made it home and was taken there, or maybe she never made it home at all. She can't remember. It's all fuzzy. When she wakes up now, she's still in fox form but she's not home. She's in a cage, a cage appropriately sized for her Fox. The rest of the room is a dank cell, there is multiple cages here but they are all empty and unused. There is a single window with an iron grate on it. A door that is solid and made of wood. There are so many questions that might arise, was Maxine(fox) picked up as a stray animal? Was it an intentional targetting? All that's certain is that she's stuck in a cage
As so often is the case, waking is a slow process, the world gradually inflicting itself upon Maxine(fox)'s previously peaceful state of mind as Maxine(fox) wakes. She doesn't seem surprised to awaken as a fox, nose twitching and heralding the first clues she is perhaps not where she expected to be, then ellow-green eyes blinking awake sharply to reveal the slits of Maxine(fox)'s pupils as she realizes something is amiss. There's a single moment further to process the situation, then Maxine(fox) is thrashing and yapping and bouncing off the cage walls, a crazed ball of attitude and fur.
There is a sluggishness that lays heavy on Maxine(fox)'s muscles as whatever tranquilizer was used, still affects her systems. Still, panic and fear is a powerful motivator and she's capable of making quite the ruckus. Shaking the cage. Ratting steel.
With all the noise it doesn't take long for a set of footsteps to come down the hall and throw the door open, a lanky man with greazy, slicked back hair stands there looking annoyed, "Yo, Shut the fuck up!" he growls from the door. His eyes are bloodshot and his demeanor is anything but friendly.
The drug induced heaviness in Maxine(fox)'s muscles makes itself apparent as Maxine(fox) attempts to use her body, an initial thrashing achieved but the vulpine being slowing quickly. The frustrated yowl at least, was not impaired and Maxine(fox) finds herself staring at a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair once he arrives, fight or flight kicking in with no-where to run. Her hackles raise, teeth baring and fur bristling as she makes her distaste for the cramped accommodations known.
Marching into the room, a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair approaches Maxine(fox)'s cage to bang against it with a fist. The entire cage tips, but returns to it's base without following over. Still the man displays some exceptional strength in striking the cage and even bends the wire frame of it. "Don't give me that fuckin' look." he says to the animal, perhaps hinting that he's aware of the intelligence within the creature. "Here's the deal. There is no deal. Shit like you goes for a lot of money and I'm lookin' to get paid. I've gotta buyer coming by soon so you just shut up and be on your best behavior."
Flailing ensues as Maxine(fox)'s cage rocks with Maxine(fox) in it, the fox within by no means as graceful as a cat under the duress of the rowdy behavior. Maxine(fox)'s hackles settle a little once the cage evens out, though the russet fox fur still bristles as Maxine(fox) begins to survey her surroundings in full once more should the greasy man not demand her attention once more. Is there enough room to shift in this cage? Would she be able to unlock it if she could return to her human form? Will the drugs in her system even permit that? Who is this guy and why has he picked her? Perhaps more importantly, who is the customer? All these are the questions that flit through her mind whilst stuck in the cage.
Slicking back his already gel-ladden hair, a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair grows bored talking to the animal and stomps off back to the door. It slams shut behind him to leave Maxine(fox) to contend with the questions she has. The cage is fully meant to hold a small fox, and not a human but to shift inside would pose a risk. If Maxine is too large she might not fit. A five foot tall human who's skinny might be able to cramp inside at best.
The room itself isn't that high security. It might be an old vet's office or defunct pound. The wire grate on the window wouldn't hold against someone determined to get out, there's always the heavy wood door as the primary exit. The walls look like they are crumbling too. There is a padlock on Maxine(fox)'s cage, but when the lanky man punched the side of the cage, he bent the bars of it just doing that. Revealing the cage itself is not that strong.
Nothing for it then. Without a large array of supernatural powers to fall back on Maxine(fox) has only her fox form, and her semi-human form's mundane capabilities to fall back on for now. Giving herself a shakeoff Maxine(fox) glances at the door once more to ensure she is alone, then she tries shifting back to her foxgirl form and to stay as small as possible whilst doing so.
After shifting Maxine manages to still fit into the cage, being only five foot one. She's small and nimble. But now she's certainly going to be a little chilly as she's in the dank room on the metal tray of her cage. Her head and fox ears tickle the top of the cage as she's forced to stay hunched over. The change did not seem to draw any attention from the door and the angry man somewhere in the building.
While being a fox-girl Maxine has a better sense that the cage itself is not going to hold up to the strength of a human the same way it can hold a small little fox. But to break out could be loud and draw attention again.
Mute as Maxine is, the grunts and gasps Maxine makes lack vocalization as Maxine finds her now naked form cramped inside the cage. She tries to flick the tip of her tail in agitation, but cramped as she is there's little range for it to sway, the tail proportionately larger in human form than it was in animal form. Indeed without her pelt she shivers, finding herself lacking in insulation with her rump and thighs against the cage floor. Her fingers weave in amidst the bars, squeezing and bending and trying to distort the door around the lock without slamming it like the greasy man had.
The thin wire frame of the cage bends and the metal fatigues as Maxine manages to bend it this way, and that way. The cage is old, and a little bit rusty. Eventually the metal around the lock gives way instead of the lock itself which is solid. Given some more time and manipulation someone creates a gap in the door, too small to squeeze through in her current form. But maybe, easily passable as an agile fox or something else if she has appropriate forms to do so.
The thin wire frame of the cage bends and the metal fatigues as Maxine manages to bend it this way, and that way. The cage is old, and a little bit rusty. Eventually the metal around the lock gives way instead of the lock itself which is solid. Given some more time and manipulation Maxine creates a gap in the door, too small to squeeze through in her current form. But maybe, easily passable as an agile fox or something else if she has appropriate forms to do so.
Shivering, Maxine's tail attempts to wag mild approval at this development even as Maxine's ears stay flat back to her head in generalized fear at the situation in which she has found herself. Indeed for now at the least Maxine seems to have only the two forms, or one and a half if one considers both are at least some portion fox. The girl shrinks back down into her vulpine form, pressing herself down flat under the gap in the cage she has created and trying to push through it.
Just as Maxine(fox) slips out of the cage to be free in the room of cages. The footsteps return outside. A voice seems to be talking to someone in a one way conversation, "Yeah, I'm here. I'll bring her out. She's feisty, I ain' gettin' bit so it'll take a second." the door handle turns. But doesn't open and unturns, "Hey fucker. You better have the money on you. I ain' doing nothing on credit." whatever conversation is going on outside the door has created some delay. Only one voice can be heard so it's likely its a phone call.
Maxine(fox) darts forwards, pausing with one foot raised as the door begins to open then seeking out somewhere to hide. Small as she is, even by fox standards, she won't be doing any fighting right now. She darts to a shelving unit near the door, hoping to dash through when the door is opened to make her escape. Maxine(fox)'s ears stay pricked up though, curiosity as to whom the customer might be simmering in the back of her mind.
Moments after Maxine(fox) darts with silent padding feet under a shelf to hide, a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair returns. The door swings wide open and he looks towards the cage that's been bent open and left empty. "FUCK!" he scowls, dropping the phone from his hear to immediately scan the room to try and find his missing catch. He moves away from the door, going deeper into the room to look behind the other gages. If the room wasn't so dark it would be easier to see Maxine(fox) right away but the dankness and crowdedness with all the empty cages makes it quite the place for hiding as a small creature.
With the door open and the lanky man searching deeper in the room Maxine(fox) seizes her chance, dashing as quick as she can for the open door and rounding through the doorway to see what is beyond. If she pauses, it is for the barest fraction of a moment to see what is in the next room before acting once again, assuming whatever is in there does not act faster.
Maxine(fox) finds an empty hall with multiple doors to examine rooms. It's a vet, but an old abandoned one and the room she was in must've been a holding room. It's obvious the way to the front of the building is to the right, and the way to the back is too the left. Maxine(fox) has very little time to decide as "Hey!" echos behind the fox when a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair notices her at the threshold of the door
For the most fleeting of moments Maxine(fox) considers if she can shift back and close the door before her captor can in turn recapture her. It's a tempting idea, but there is no time. Maxine(fox)'s claws scrabble at the floor, then Maxine(fox) scurries away as far and fast as she can, trying to make her way out the front.
The cute fox being chased by the evil man is something out of a Disney movie. Except the setting is too bleak and the consequences of capture are unknowable. Maxine(fox) is a bit faster, but she has to contend with obstacles that the human man wont. The first being a chest high gate designed to keep animals from bolting out into the lobby. It's only a few feet high. It's more of a suggestion than a rule when it comes to keeping animals from jumping over it.
Hopefully this turns out more akin to the end of Disneys Fox & the Hound than the beginning of Bambi, at least from Maxine(fox)'s perspective. Indeed Maxine(fox) tries to jump the boundary, ears flat back against her head as she bounds on all fours away from the pursuing hunter.
With grace, Maxine(fox) clears the gate and lands on the otherside in the old dilapidated hallway. There is a thud when a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair slips and crashes into the gate. Which ends up serving his purpose as he breaks through the latch and is almost in arms reach of Maxine(fox). Theres a front door to leave, but its closed and Maxine(fox) has no hands. It looks like a push door but one that would require some weight behind it.
Skinny as Maxine(fox) is, the slits of her pupils regard the door with the realization beyond them that even with a precise bodyslam in this form there's a chance the 10 pounds of her mightn't be enough to open it. Panic seizes her and she keeps on running towards that door and, accords be damned, she shifts to her foxgirl form in an effort to push the door open and enable her escape before she can be grabbed by the hunter.
a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair grunts when Maxine changes before his very eyes into a woman. Maxine slams into the door and it pushes open, allowing her to put one foot over the threshold till..OUCH a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair grabs her tail near the tip of it for added pain. He plants his feet and tries to stop Maxine from getting out the door while holding onto that tail, "Oh no you dont bitch!"
Maxine feels that right through her spine as the brush of her tail is grasped and yanked upon. Like the proverbial tiger caught by its tail Maxine turns on a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair, flailing at him with her fists and making like the animal she just was, trying her very best to bite him in the neck with her sharper-than-average human teeth.
Maybe the man didn't expect Maxine to flip from flight to fight. Because when she turns to attack him with a fury he lets go of the tail and tries to push Maxine off of him. He stumbles back, and lets out a cry of pain when he's bitten on the neck. Then he gives the woman a big ol' shove. Throwing her off him and out the door. "Fuck! You bit me!" he whines incredulously.
The briefest flash of pride and pleasure flashes in Maxine's still slit-pupiled eyes as a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair expresses his pain, teeth flashing again in a smile as Maxine stands back from him on the far side of that doorway. Then with the intended effect achieved Maxine again tries to dash off into the world beyond the dilapidated vet. She still has questions, like who is the customer, and how was she found, but freedom is the number one priority.
Running, naked into the forest of Haven and eventually back to town Maxine gets away and her questions go unanswered. Even to return to the old abandoned vet would turn up no real evidence. Still Maxine got away and survived without injury.
The situation escalates as Declan attempts to evade what he perceives to be followers, likely members of The Destined Host due to the cryptic symbols spotted on bystanders. Utilizing evasive maneuvers and driving in circles around Haven to lose any tails, he urgently seeks reinforcement from the Temple. His plea for assistance is met with a cryptic response and an eventual dramatic intervention by a so-called "Rabbit Team," a group of operatives in black with distinctive orange streaks. After an intense confrontation involving smoke grenades and visible confrontations right outside a trailer park, the artifact is ultimately secured by the mysterious team, leaving Declan bewildered but relieved, pondering over the symbols he had seen which hinted at the possible ingression of The Destined Host into Haven. Despite the ordeal, the artifact is removed from his hands, and Declan is left ruminating on the day's events, considering the implications for Haven's safety and his own role within these unfolding supernatural skirmishes.
(Declan's odd encounter(SRVindicta):SRVindicta)
[Fri Nov 1 2024]
In hospital room 2
This room is sparsely furnished, the sanitary white walls a perfect match
to the linoleum floor and the thin hospital sheets on the gurney that serves
as a bed. A small television mounted in the upper corner of the room is set
at a low volume, and a thin curtain bisects the room in an effort to afford
privacy to the occupant on the other side.
It is dawn, about 48F(8C) degrees, and there are a few wispy white clouds in the sky.
(Your target and their allies are approached by a seemingly harmless and desperate citizen, who claims to have stumbled upon an ancient artifact. They want it to be safely stored away, fearing its potential power. However, upon further investigation, the characters realize that the artifact is of demonic origin and is sought after by The Destined Host. Now they must decide whether to save the artifact to potentially use against the demons, destroy it, or let it fall into the hands of The Destined Host. This decision could significantly affect their future interactions with the faction.)
Declan doesn't look especially busy, sitting watch in the hospital room with a half-glazed over look.
Hospital room two, though quiet, has a dark cloud lingering within courtesy of the prior night's activities. Halloween in Haven is always a crap shoot, but thus far this year seems to have certainly taken the cake- civilians gunned down in the streets by cultist snipers, a small and peaceful Inn where LARPers tend to gather finding itself the target of hostile forces. And then to top it all off, red dragons pouring from the skies with sorcerers upon their backs, raining down fire magic on the buildings as much as the people. There were heavy casualties on both sides, but for now it seems that the members of Gonthorian's cult have been run from town. Despite this, the tension in the air is palpable, and as Declan sits at the bedside of his comatose comrade in arms, and local Deputy who had responded to the threat, things aren't looking great. They aren't as grim as they had been- she is on the road to recovery- but she is still unconscious, twitching on occasion, fighting her own internal demons and nightmares.
Nurses come and go, cleaning her, changing her fluids, emptying her catheter, and thankfully with no mention of her dark secret. HIPA is strictly enforced, the White Oak group incredibly professional about it all. Peace, silence, but not calm, is the flavor of the day.
Declan has no ability to read minds whatsoever, but thinks that the sleeping bunny-deputy likely doesn't have pleasant sleep. It's something that he can often relate to. He's not sure about the extent of her suffering though, and is stuck glancing at the clock and wishing he brought a book or more phone games.
There are no books in this room, but there is a television. At some point during the day a nurse, or maybe a visitor, had turned it on and flipped it to a children's education channel. Arthur! plays, an episode where Muffy and her family have a robot butler that threatens to replace their normal, faithful one. It's nothing that would keep an adult truly entertained, but it is background noise, and something to pass the time. There is a remote control nearby offering more mature options, lingering on the Deputy's bed, close to her fingers- perhaps in case she wakes up and prefers to watch something else.
There are no signs of life beyond her breathing and the nearby monitor that beeps out her slow heartbeat, but there is food left for Declan, and soon, non sleeping company. A young man darts in from the south, something in his arms all bundled up and held close to his chest. His wild brown eyes scan the room, and then fall upon Declan. "H-Hey! Are you the Deputy? I... I found something. Something dangerous, I think. It was left behind by the c-... It was left behind last night after the mass shooting. I think it's trouble, big trouble," the late-teens boy insists.
"Why do you bother sanitizing your language in here?" Declan asks the boy from his seat, having reduced the TV's volume to almost mute. But it's enough of an intrusion that he's enticed to stand, feeling his knees click from the motion and giving his neck a roll and momentary adjustment. He opens his arms and makes sure to interpose himself between boy and bed, but asks, "How do you know it's trouble? Let me see."
"Sanitizing my... Oh," says the boy, taking a step back when Declan rises and then puts himself between the newcomer kid and the comatose woman. "Are... You the Deputy..?" he asks again, clutching that bundle of cloth a bit closer to his chest as he starts to scan Declan for some sign of his being law enforcement: a badge, a police-issue weapon, maybe. All of which, or some of which, the dark-haired man might have if he kept hold of his partner's personal effects- it would only take a brief glimpse, but a lingering look offered from it would show that while it is official, it is not Declan's, and his cover would be blown. "I just.. The Cultists of Gonthorian, last night a dragon rider crashed to the ground right in front of me, and they were holding this... Thing. I think it's demonic... It's some kind of stone tablet with sigils? Or maybe a summoning circle? I.. I'm not sure. I can't read it." His eyes tick again towards the comatose femme curiously, like his mind is working. Producing smoke out of his ears proverbially.
Declan did glean over the rest of the info regardless in case it might prove useful. It's not at the forefront of his mind as he confronts the kid, and not being much of a spy himself, doesn't attempt to put on a character. He's honest about it. "She's a coworker and friend." A powerful MacGuffin, says the kid? It causes him to raise an eyebrow. Reports of objects of power smuggled through the portals and ending up in the hands of unsavory parties have been increasingly frequent in the past year, which doesn't bode well for a world with a timer stuck into it. "I can hold onto it for her for you." He crouches. "Come on."
"... What happened to her?" asks the guy who isn't quiet short enough to crouch in front of without it seeming just plain demeaning. He's at least a college kid, but he sighs and accepts his fate- older folks always view their juniors as little more than babies, but it goes both ways- the younger generations call all the older ones geriatrics. Declan receives this same treatment, the boy saying: "Are you gonna be able to stand back up, old timer?" It said with genuine concern and a furrow of his brow as he approaches, passing the bundle of cloth off to the Templar with a schooled expression on his face. It's warm even with all of that clothing wrapped around it, and seems to pulsate with a radiating heat that makes it grow a degree hotter every few minutes. Slow going, but ultimately if it continues it will catch on fire. Maybe it should be put on ice? Or destroyed, at the very least.
Declan might've not crouched at all if the 'boy' was actually college aged instead of, well, a lad. But he's not sure about the age range of the academy nowadays, except for knowing that it handles nearly all ages of schooling in town. "She got too many fireballs from one of those dragon riders." He himself has some singes on his clothing to make it more convincing even if he's not seriously hurt. Wiggly fingers as he accepts the artifact, which he knows at a touch even with lacking supernatural studies to be bad news. The only thing missing is the thing whispering to him in Black Speech. He frowns at it. "Yeah. You were right to bring this to us," he says more seriously. "Thanks."
"Oh..." says the young man as his big brown eyes shift back to the sleeping Deputy in a sympathetic glance before he draws his eyes back to Declan, a bit more information needing to be shared, then: "Listen... Ever since that thing started getting hotter, there have been people following me," he whispers, glancing over his shoulder towards the door as though to check and make sure that it is still closed. "I can't prove it. I haven't seen them, but I can *feel* it. Just.. You know when it's... That feeling you get? Like you're being watched?" he wonders hopefully as he stares at Declan, only an inch or two shorter than him, but still making it seem like he has to crane his neck to look up at the Templar. "I can't explain it any way other than that. Someone wants it, or maybe they want me, I don't know. But I know that me and that tablet are safer apart one way or another."
"Not wrong. That'd be true of me, too, though, and I'm not tougher than you are." Declan closes one eye in a facsimile of a wink, but it stays shut too long. He leaves the cloth wrapped over the artifact and chooses to tuck it underarm if it's not too bulky, already making a silent report to the rest of Haven chapter via a private channel. 'Possible relic found off a cultist, likely needs containment. White Oak. Please advise.' Now, whether double agents can read that and compromise him is a nother matter, but he doesn't think it likely. He'll need help from now on. "Do me a favor and make sure they don't skip her meds." He starts to exit the hospital room and continues towards the exit.
"But I'm not a doctor! I'm in school for an Engineering... Degree.." says the kid as Declan walks off regardless, leaving the college-goer to mind the sleeping woman while the Templar becomes a man on a mission. It doesn't take long for the trouble to start. For that feeling to set itself in- the paranoia, the skitzophrenia. Voices whispering about him, eyes upon him though somehow unseen. A figure walks past, bumping into him- were they just trying to take the bundle that he has set so securely in his arms? Or maybe their arm just got caught... Strange. Worth investigating? Maybe, maybe not. What is this? What's going on? Suddenly the whole town, every worker, every civilian, they seem to be staring at Declan, meeting his eyes briefly and then awkwardly looking away. It can't be that coincidental, can it?
"Doctor... engineer ... same thing." Declan knows he's not got something on his face, and knows his zipper is up. So it can't be either of those. The bundle does look suspicious but that by itself shouldn't be drawing this kind of attention, he might reckon were he entirely rational. He isn't, though. He's getting to his car and preparing to drive off, waiting for a Temple escort that each second seems more likely to be a trap. He pulls out of parking to begin to drive in circles and see who might be repeats.
Well, Haven is a small town- repeats are hard to avoid. Just about everyone that Declan passes in his circling is a repeat. The problem is, he's lived here for a while. He knows the townies, the repeat visitors, even the criminals by face. Some of these faces are in familiar places where others should be. Those are the ones that really stick out- the ones that are where others once were. The girl behind the counter at black rose is now a tall, dusky-skinned male with dark eyes staring out of the window, watching the Templar drive by with a steeled stare barely visible from the distance, but present. A group of familiar college students crosses the road, forcing Declan to either stop or mow them down, they glance at him regardless, but they seem to check out for now. A box? Will a box stop this heat increase? Is there a *cap* to this heat increase, or will it keep growing and growing in temperature until the Earth glows as brightly as the Sun in less that thirteen years? Is Declan holding Doomsday in his hands?
Declan is not a trained agent, but has worked with American alphabet agencies in the past. Even if he isn't, and didn't, one doesn't need either experience to notice the discrepancies. But the textbook methodology does make some of them more blatant than others, and the unpleasant question of where the expected persons in each spot are. Likely, only drugged for a day, but that might not always be true.
Swiping at his brow, he makes one more round of northside then starts to cross the bridge before the tail gets the idea to .. blow up the bridge or something. Then, remembering that Sanctuary makes that impossible, it could be a mere roadblock going home. He glances at his phone while driving to check if High Command's given any response. "Come on, I can't fend off all these folks."
A blip. Information sent back, a distorted voice speaking in a fried and high-pitched squeal. "Reinforcements on the way. Find a place to park. Rabbit Team en route." Friend or foe, it is very hard to tell. It could be a new branch of the Strike Force or the Demolishers as easily as it could be a group of enemy hostiles intercepting and interfering. Declan will have to make a judgment call himself on this one. Regardless, a low flying helicopter buzzes overhead and then keeps moving south down Prospect Street, East on Hart Avenue, then slowly descends on top of the Antlers Hotel. A group of three darkly-dressed people jump out, but their faces, the details of their clothing, any form of weapons they may have, are starkly invisible as of yet. Too far away, and moving far too quickly and efficiently to get a read on. One thing is clear about them: they wear all black, save for vertical lines streaking the sides in an orange almost deep enough to be red, but not quite.
It's times like this that Declan regrets not upgrading his shitbox of a car. He really should do something about that. Now, it's not likely to make a difference in a town the size of Haven, especially against a chopper, but the extra confidence and reliability would be nice. Instead of taking the usual turn on Ocean home, he once again does a little bit of literal defensive driving and circles through the trailer park. Now on voice, he speaks into his phone, "Close to baseball diamond. If you're not here shortly, making for Temple Steel." Beginning to sweat even with the AC on, though that might be a side effect of other draconic events today, he adds, "At least three important assets sighted, likely more awaiting activation."
"Assigned relief inbound," says that frazzled voice coming from Declan's phone. "Remain in the area, Hayes. We'll collect the item from you shortly and ship it to headquarters for assessment. Do you have a description?" It's getting warmer- another pulse of heat causes the man's sweat to begin to drip down his face. The trailer park typically has its roads, rows, and ways mostly if not completely empty, but the more he drives loops, the more people seem intent to come out of their trailer homes, almost as if called by something, or perhaps simply curious about the car that keeps driving around and around. Is this more paranoia? More coincidence? Hard to say. The line blurs with such an important package in tow. "Five minutes until contact. Keep calm. Rabbit Team will arrive shortly."
Declan curses and slams on the horn as a pickup decides to exit its driveway right as he's going almost at speed. "Fuck me! Hey, out of my..." Backing up, he tries to speed around the blocker and reaches into his pocket to pull out some leftover tissues from breakfast. "Why's it important what it looks like?" he quizzes the dispatch, although he's popped the object into the passenger seat to do so and tried to clumsily unwrap the cloth covering to get a look and at least some idea on how to answer this question even if he might not necessarily do so. "Four minutes?"
"One minute," the voice continues. Declan starts to slowly unwrap the item, which at first seems to be little more than a stone tablet with demonic symbolism etched into it- however the more it is unwrapped, and the longer, the hotter it seems to get in his car. The more it seems to glow. Brighter and brighter, almost blinding, he needs to wrap it back up lest it potentially burst or take his sight permanently. Even looking away afterwards with the tablet concealed, the man will have one big black dot right in the middle of his vision for a while as he's driving. "Rabbit Team is moving through the baseball diamond now. No report of vehicular activity. Have you moved?" they ask, the driver of that pickup truck glaring into Declan's car as he lays on the horn and passes by. Off in the distance, there is movement in the tall grass- three figures dressed in black disappear in the shade of the trees, each wearing gas masks of some sort that conceal their faces. The lead being has a feminine build and atop her hooded head are black latext bunny ears that point straight upwards. Behind her, a lean man with antlers on his hood that splay out in many directions. Behind him, even, is a far larger brute of a man, equally in all black with the faint sheen of two orange stripes visible. The same people from the Antlers. The biggest man has a mass of something metal on his back, giving him the bulky shoulders of a bear.
groans and puts the cloth back in place clumsily, and it's still making his car brighter than the outdoors at this hour. It's definitely -something- important, that's all he needs to know. "In motion. Have enemies in visual ... still three." Declan does resolve the details of the lead being and her ears in short order, and squints. "Unless that's you." He considered the possibility, but dismissed it out of an increasing awareness of his own growing paranoia before realizing that he may indeed need to engage in car-fu. "Rabbit team, throw your arms up and hop like bunnies."
"Be serious, Hayes," scolds the phone voice in that electronically fried manner. "Hit the brakes. Stay calm. Here they come." And the moment the voice finishes speaking, the call is hung up. First something flies out of the tall grasses right in front of Declan's car whether he stops or not. If he drives over it, well, he's going to be right in the middle of the cloud caused by a tossed out smoke grenade.
Something hits the hood of his car- it sounds like the hooves of a dear jumping on top of it from one side, an then a swift streak of black and orange sees it leaping down the other side, rushing towards a crowd of onlookers an ultimately making them scatter from the area as that lean-muscled being tilts its head down, likely bearing its antlers.
A loud crash resounds from directly in front of the car then, too, that mountain of muscle with a bulge on its back slamming directly into a truck that was likely looking to meet Declan's car in a head-on collision, now tossed onto its side as the big guy barrels into it without hesitation.
The passenger side door of the Templar's car is unlocked from the outside amidst all of this, and a feminine figure with bunny ears upright slips inside, her features concealed by her all-black mask with large goggles for eyes and air purification canisters around the mouth. She asks sternly: "Hayes. Excellent work. The Temple will take this to headquarters now."
Declan suppresses an eye twitch. Poor operational handling, both on his part and that of the wider Temple, he might be thinking, though it's up to that other guy to see if insurance will pay off his car. Maybe he can have the busted truck for cheap and sell off this damn thing. He allows himself to relax if only for a moment, somewhat shocked at the overt performance of what-must-be Demolishers - or possibly Temple Cleaners - in town. One of those days, isn't it? He slowly turns to the bunny-woman and reaches to touch the artifact first. "Okay. If you're my contact, what's my Temple serial number?" He knows better than to pick a fight he can't win, but at least he'll know how badly he fucked up if ever.
There is an expanded moment of silence that lasts little more than a blink's duration as the woman in the mask stares at Declan, then snags the artifact in her arms, making to disappear from the car as quickly as she had arriv3ed, though she pauses after jumping out of the door. "Our Officer calls you 'Heyhayes'. I suppose that is it," she reports, leaping onto the roof and landing on what sounds like softly-padded feet before the shrouded form of her tiny body is seen jumping back down on the driver's side. "We'll be in touch," she reports, glancing over her shoulder at the black-haired masc before darting westward into the Moore Woods with the rest of her team, using the lingering smoke as cover for their escape. When it clears, Declan is surrounded by trailer trash taking pictures and videos, screaming about this amazing car accident that happened on Dandilion Parkway, but there is no mention of the strike team that had made the briefest and most veiled of appearances. Apparently no one saw them- only a few civilians murmur of a rabid stag that came charging through, likely being what caused the accident in the first place.
"So. Can I have your number?" Declan can't help but shout in the wake of the bunny-woman, chuffed and glad to be rid of the artifact, for better or for worse. He no longer thinks the trailer trash are about to put him on a stake and use his guts for kobold and lead-rich boar sausages, so he simply eyes the gathering after the coast is clear and the operatives have made their way home and starts to drive slowly through them. "It was just a really big moose, don't worry about it," he insists to a gawker on his way out of the park.
Just a big moose is the story that Declan puts out, and though it conflicts with the stag story, it seems to eventually overtake it- not quite entirely, but mostly. Just as soon as they had appeared, they are gone, that Rabbit team, and the artifact is seemingly in far better hands. Driving through now Declan is less pressured, he would notice strange symbolism on the out of place faces- their jewelry, their clothing, all bearing some strange insignia: a crimson hand holding a blackened, thorned crown. The Destined Host. If he knows, then he knows, but if he doesn't, well, the strange image may mean little to nothing to him at all. He passes a news crew on his way out as they rush in for the scoop.
Declan does recognize the symbols, but at this stage does nothing about them directly. It's a future Decks problem, but it does at least tell him they might've gotten those eye-searing tablets if not for a meddling kid college student and a crusty veteran. He needs a beer.
(Your target has been abducted and is being held hostage by a supernatural criminal out to trade them for something or just use them as a shield against the factions. Your target must attempt to find a way to escape, or simply survive until they can be rescued by their allies.
)
Waking up in the afternoon is not unusual after a late Halloween night. Many wake up in strange places, maybe they had a one night stand. Or got too drunk. Or crashed at a party. But Maxine(fox), she must've went out as a Fox. Maybe she made it home and was taken there, or maybe she never made it home at all. She can't remember. It's all fuzzy. When she wakes up now, she's still in fox form but she's not home. She's in a cage, a cage appropriately sized for her Fox. The rest of the room is a dank cell, there is multiple cages here but they are all empty and unused. There is a single window with an iron grate on it. A door that is solid and made of wood. There are so many questions that might arise, was Maxine(fox) picked up as a stray animal? Was it an intentional targetting? All that's certain is that she's stuck in a cage
As so often is the case, waking is a slow process, the world gradually inflicting itself upon Maxine(fox)'s previously peaceful state of mind as Maxine(fox) wakes. She doesn't seem surprised to awaken as a fox, nose twitching and heralding the first clues she is perhaps not where she expected to be, then ellow-green eyes blinking awake sharply to reveal the slits of Maxine(fox)'s pupils as she realizes something is amiss. There's a single moment further to process the situation, then Maxine(fox) is thrashing and yapping and bouncing off the cage walls, a crazed ball of attitude and fur.
There is a sluggishness that lays heavy on Maxine(fox)'s muscles as whatever tranquilizer was used, still affects her systems. Still, panic and fear is a powerful motivator and she's capable of making quite the ruckus. Shaking the cage. Ratting steel.
With all the noise it doesn't take long for a set of footsteps to come down the hall and throw the door open, a lanky man with greazy, slicked back hair stands there looking annoyed, "Yo, Shut the fuck up!" he growls from the door. His eyes are bloodshot and his demeanor is anything but friendly.
The drug induced heaviness in Maxine(fox)'s muscles makes itself apparent as Maxine(fox) attempts to use her body, an initial thrashing achieved but the vulpine being slowing quickly. The frustrated yowl at least, was not impaired and Maxine(fox) finds herself staring at a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair once he arrives, fight or flight kicking in with no-where to run. Her hackles raise, teeth baring and fur bristling as she makes her distaste for the cramped accommodations known.
Marching into the room, a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair approaches Maxine(fox)'s cage to bang against it with a fist. The entire cage tips, but returns to it's base without following over. Still the man displays some exceptional strength in striking the cage and even bends the wire frame of it. "Don't give me that fuckin' look." he says to the animal, perhaps hinting that he's aware of the intelligence within the creature. "Here's the deal. There is no deal. Shit like you goes for a lot of money and I'm lookin' to get paid. I've gotta buyer coming by soon so you just shut up and be on your best behavior."
Flailing ensues as Maxine(fox)'s cage rocks with Maxine(fox) in it, the fox within by no means as graceful as a cat under the duress of the rowdy behavior. Maxine(fox)'s hackles settle a little once the cage evens out, though the russet fox fur still bristles as Maxine(fox) begins to survey her surroundings in full once more should the greasy man not demand her attention once more. Is there enough room to shift in this cage? Would she be able to unlock it if she could return to her human form? Will the drugs in her system even permit that? Who is this guy and why has he picked her? Perhaps more importantly, who is the customer? All these are the questions that flit through her mind whilst stuck in the cage.
Slicking back his already gel-ladden hair, a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair grows bored talking to the animal and stomps off back to the door. It slams shut behind him to leave Maxine(fox) to contend with the questions she has. The cage is fully meant to hold a small fox, and not a human but to shift inside would pose a risk. If Maxine is too large she might not fit. A five foot tall human who's skinny might be able to cramp inside at best.
The room itself isn't that high security. It might be an old vet's office or defunct pound. The wire grate on the window wouldn't hold against someone determined to get out, there's always the heavy wood door as the primary exit. The walls look like they are crumbling too. There is a padlock on Maxine(fox)'s cage, but when the lanky man punched the side of the cage, he bent the bars of it just doing that. Revealing the cage itself is not that strong.
Nothing for it then. Without a large array of supernatural powers to fall back on Maxine(fox) has only her fox form, and her semi-human form's mundane capabilities to fall back on for now. Giving herself a shakeoff Maxine(fox) glances at the door once more to ensure she is alone, then she tries shifting back to her foxgirl form and to stay as small as possible whilst doing so.
After shifting Maxine manages to still fit into the cage, being only five foot one. She's small and nimble. But now she's certainly going to be a little chilly as she's in the dank room on the metal tray of her cage. Her head and fox ears tickle the top of the cage as she's forced to stay hunched over. The change did not seem to draw any attention from the door and the angry man somewhere in the building.
While being a fox-girl Maxine has a better sense that the cage itself is not going to hold up to the strength of a human the same way it can hold a small little fox. But to break out could be loud and draw attention again.
Mute as Maxine is, the grunts and gasps Maxine makes lack vocalization as Maxine finds her now naked form cramped inside the cage. She tries to flick the tip of her tail in agitation, but cramped as she is there's little range for it to sway, the tail proportionately larger in human form than it was in animal form. Indeed without her pelt she shivers, finding herself lacking in insulation with her rump and thighs against the cage floor. Her fingers weave in amidst the bars, squeezing and bending and trying to distort the door around the lock without slamming it like the greasy man had.
The thin wire frame of the cage bends and the metal fatigues as Maxine manages to bend it this way, and that way. The cage is old, and a little bit rusty. Eventually the metal around the lock gives way instead of the lock itself which is solid. Given some more time and manipulation someone creates a gap in the door, too small to squeeze through in her current form. But maybe, easily passable as an agile fox or something else if she has appropriate forms to do so.
The thin wire frame of the cage bends and the metal fatigues as Maxine manages to bend it this way, and that way. The cage is old, and a little bit rusty. Eventually the metal around the lock gives way instead of the lock itself which is solid. Given some more time and manipulation Maxine creates a gap in the door, too small to squeeze through in her current form. But maybe, easily passable as an agile fox or something else if she has appropriate forms to do so.
Shivering, Maxine's tail attempts to wag mild approval at this development even as Maxine's ears stay flat back to her head in generalized fear at the situation in which she has found herself. Indeed for now at the least Maxine seems to have only the two forms, or one and a half if one considers both are at least some portion fox. The girl shrinks back down into her vulpine form, pressing herself down flat under the gap in the cage she has created and trying to push through it.
Just as Maxine(fox) slips out of the cage to be free in the room of cages. The footsteps return outside. A voice seems to be talking to someone in a one way conversation, "Yeah, I'm here. I'll bring her out. She's feisty, I ain' gettin' bit so it'll take a second." the door handle turns. But doesn't open and unturns, "Hey fucker. You better have the money on you. I ain' doing nothing on credit." whatever conversation is going on outside the door has created some delay. Only one voice can be heard so it's likely its a phone call.
Maxine(fox) darts forwards, pausing with one foot raised as the door begins to open then seeking out somewhere to hide. Small as she is, even by fox standards, she won't be doing any fighting right now. She darts to a shelving unit near the door, hoping to dash through when the door is opened to make her escape. Maxine(fox)'s ears stay pricked up though, curiosity as to whom the customer might be simmering in the back of her mind.
Moments after Maxine(fox) darts with silent padding feet under a shelf to hide, a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair returns. The door swings wide open and he looks towards the cage that's been bent open and left empty. "FUCK!" he scowls, dropping the phone from his hear to immediately scan the room to try and find his missing catch. He moves away from the door, going deeper into the room to look behind the other gages. If the room wasn't so dark it would be easier to see Maxine(fox) right away but the dankness and crowdedness with all the empty cages makes it quite the place for hiding as a small creature.
With the door open and the lanky man searching deeper in the room Maxine(fox) seizes her chance, dashing as quick as she can for the open door and rounding through the doorway to see what is beyond. If she pauses, it is for the barest fraction of a moment to see what is in the next room before acting once again, assuming whatever is in there does not act faster.
Maxine(fox) finds an empty hall with multiple doors to examine rooms. It's a vet, but an old abandoned one and the room she was in must've been a holding room. It's obvious the way to the front of the building is to the right, and the way to the back is too the left. Maxine(fox) has very little time to decide as "Hey!" echos behind the fox when a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair notices her at the threshold of the door
For the most fleeting of moments Maxine(fox) considers if she can shift back and close the door before her captor can in turn recapture her. It's a tempting idea, but there is no time. Maxine(fox)'s claws scrabble at the floor, then Maxine(fox) scurries away as far and fast as she can, trying to make her way out the front.
The cute fox being chased by the evil man is something out of a Disney movie. Except the setting is too bleak and the consequences of capture are unknowable. Maxine(fox) is a bit faster, but she has to contend with obstacles that the human man wont. The first being a chest high gate designed to keep animals from bolting out into the lobby. It's only a few feet high. It's more of a suggestion than a rule when it comes to keeping animals from jumping over it.
Hopefully this turns out more akin to the end of Disneys Fox & the Hound than the beginning of Bambi, at least from Maxine(fox)'s perspective. Indeed Maxine(fox) tries to jump the boundary, ears flat back against her head as she bounds on all fours away from the pursuing hunter.
With grace, Maxine(fox) clears the gate and lands on the otherside in the old dilapidated hallway. There is a thud when a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair slips and crashes into the gate. Which ends up serving his purpose as he breaks through the latch and is almost in arms reach of Maxine(fox). Theres a front door to leave, but its closed and Maxine(fox) has no hands. It looks like a push door but one that would require some weight behind it.
Skinny as Maxine(fox) is, the slits of her pupils regard the door with the realization beyond them that even with a precise bodyslam in this form there's a chance the 10 pounds of her mightn't be enough to open it. Panic seizes her and she keeps on running towards that door and, accords be damned, she shifts to her foxgirl form in an effort to push the door open and enable her escape before she can be grabbed by the hunter.
a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair grunts when Maxine changes before his very eyes into a woman. Maxine slams into the door and it pushes open, allowing her to put one foot over the threshold till..OUCH a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair grabs her tail near the tip of it for added pain. He plants his feet and tries to stop Maxine from getting out the door while holding onto that tail, "Oh no you dont bitch!"
Maxine feels that right through her spine as the brush of her tail is grasped and yanked upon. Like the proverbial tiger caught by its tail Maxine turns on a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair, flailing at him with her fists and making like the animal she just was, trying her very best to bite him in the neck with her sharper-than-average human teeth.
Maybe the man didn't expect Maxine to flip from flight to fight. Because when she turns to attack him with a fury he lets go of the tail and tries to push Maxine off of him. He stumbles back, and lets out a cry of pain when he's bitten on the neck. Then he gives the woman a big ol' shove. Throwing her off him and out the door. "Fuck! You bit me!" he whines incredulously.
The briefest flash of pride and pleasure flashes in Maxine's still slit-pupiled eyes as a lanky man with greasy slicked-back hair expresses his pain, teeth flashing again in a smile as Maxine stands back from him on the far side of that doorway. Then with the intended effect achieved Maxine again tries to dash off into the world beyond the dilapidated vet. She still has questions, like who is the customer, and how was she found, but freedom is the number one priority.
Running, naked into the forest of Haven and eventually back to town Maxine gets away and her questions go unanswered. Even to return to the old abandoned vet would turn up no real evidence. Still Maxine got away and survived without injury.