Always assume they have backup
Roleplaying Log: Always assume they have backup
IC Details

Carmilla on a werewolf hunt. Or so she thinks.

Other Characters Referenced:
IC Date: August 23, 2019
IC Location: NYC
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 23 Aug 2019 21:49
Rating & Warnings:
Scene Soundtrack: [* ]
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

Wow. Only in New York. Only in NYC would there be a classic werewolf hunt forming, but the mob is using pistols and celphones. Gathering in a dark street, people are scared and upset, weapons preparing. Preparing to kill.

"I saw it, it was huge. It had horrible fangs, an' arms that tore my arm! I mean, claws that…LOOK!" The lady with the baby, baby apparently conveniently unharmed, shows the pressure bandage on her arm. To her credit, it is bloody. Something tore her a bit, but she's clearly not mauled.

A sound in the air lends credence though, as what sounds for all the world like a wolf's howl echoes through the alleys. And the normies pull closer to each other, scared. But weapons ready. The hunt is about to be on, and woe betide whatever they catch.

If Carm were to witness this, she might be skeptical. Worried. Also wolves caught in cities are generally more scared than their hunters. Whatever it is probably needs help more than a hail of lead.

The sound came from the west. So nearer the park. Makes sense.


Carmilla has no gun in sight but she does have a cellphone. Given how small she is, she disappears easily into the crowd, weaving among the terrified East Villagers and their iPhone-witnessed monologues. Terrified ramblings will be appearing all over Facebook and Youtube for weeks

Carmilla, on the other hand, is checking her GPS. She reaches up to run her fingers through her dark green hair, arching a brow as she considers the screen in front of her. She frowns, nods once, and then tucks the little Samsung Galaxy into the tight back pocket of her black jeans.

"Look! Someone posted on Facebook that there was a sighting a few blokcs south of here." Carm lifts her phone and waves it around. No one here will be able to tell she made the post herself. Carmilla departs at a quick stroll during the commotion. OThers take the opportunity to do the same, their fear etched onto their faces. The biggest difference is that Carm has some idea of where she's going.

The green-haired Italian agent breaks into a jog once she's away from the angry throng of people, long strides and natural athleticism quickly cutting the distance between herself and the park. Unarmed and all alone, if there /is/ a violent werewolf on the loose this girl probably looks like a prime target. Leather jackets and jeans are no match for claws.


Shouts of "But that's not where I saw it!" mix with others who are perfectly happy to use Facebook as a reliable source of data until the mix of insane and scared merges into a slow trek to find a wolf…in the wrong direction. For now, but not forever. Even mobs eventually find a target.

Her tracking skills aren't truly the right choice for 'hunting a werewolf' though, so once the trees and grass begin it's a matter of luck as much as anything. Who'll come across whom first? And the night is darker than it should be, with the moon blocked out by trees.

Angry spirits are out tonight, the wind whips up without warning. A branch pulls aside with no reason, revealing a patch of grass, nothing there. No squirrels; they seem to be smart enough to hide.

And then Carmilla sees the impossible thing.

At the edge of a duck pond, where the ground is moist enough to keep tracks, is a patch of light. And in the dirt, clear as day, is the solid imprint of a small human foot, bare and clear.

Then in front of it, as if the human had vanished, suddenly appears the equally clear footprint of an improbably large wolf.


Carmilla might not be much of a tracker but a footprint dug deep intothe earth is difficult to miss. She kneels down beside it and then takes a deep breath. The phone reemerges and she takes a photo of the footprint, lips briefly pursed. "Shoe size is…" She pauses for a second, eyes widening as she stares at the display, and at the little print just beside that of the enormous wolf. "It's just a kid? …This whole situation is completely fucked."

So saying, Carmilla straightens, brushing her hands on the kneesx of her jeans reflexively, and tucks the phone away once more. She follows the edge of the pond, her boots leaving lear tracks in the mud. It's cooler here, this close to the water, and goosebumps begin to form on the young woman's skin as she scans the darkness. It's also becoming faintly misty, which doesn't help matters.

"…If you're out there? I want to help! People are getting scared by all of the, um, howling and—— scared people do stupid shit." Carmilla can't sneak up on a wolf. Sos he doesn't try.


Eyes in the darkness, wild and untamed. Green, glowing. Dangerous. There is a predator in the darkness, and it is apparently not interested in keeping hidden from a lone female with…a sniff of the air tells it what weaponry she's likely to have. It doesn't impress easily.

And steps into the light a hunched figure of a monster out of movie legend, as what appears to be a true werewolf steps out toward Carmilla. It is, or appears to be, seven feet tall, muscular and bestial. Fur sprouts all about its body in patches, uneven, vile.

The claws on the ends of its long, long arms glisten with some kind of fluid, though it might have just been…washing? One can only hope.

Because it speaks then, and the words that come out are taunting.

"If…you wish…to run.." It says this, then trails off, jaws not really built for speech. "I..would enjoy…the chase."

Then it howls, but quietly. Teasing, after Carmilla's little speech. Scared people, after all.


"You're—— not the one I was looking for," Carmilla replies a bit stupidly. "Way, way too big." She does stare at the wolf for a moment, setting her right foot back as she considersa what she is going to do about the creature confronting her. "Give me a second and I'll run. Sure. You can chase me all the way back to the Village. First, though. Where the other wolf? The small one. Do you have cubs with you…?"

Carmilla is alread y gathering herself for a confrntation. Her right hand moves toward her waist, where she does indeed keep a concealed gun. The left, however. The wolf would smell the change. The scent is- acrid, chemical. Something deeply poisonous in Carmilla's pores, in her /sweat/. She doesn't smell like fear.

Of course, the wolf still has several feet on Carm. She keeps her distance yet.


There's a moment where the creature smells the air. It tilts its head, scenting the poisons, uncertain what exactly it's smelling. The thing hesitates, visibly. Then all hesitation is past, and its jaws try to clamp on Carmilla.

A raises arm in defence would be simple, but would only cause her to take the hit on that appendage, though the werewolf is aiming for her face so it might be a choice worth making, as the claws reach to grab, to catch. To cut and hold, and fear becomes an option worth entertaining.

Though the woods move, as another predator in the background hears the commotion. And a red head lifts to scent the air, and running, running. Hoping she won't be too late for this one.

Pads in the night. Silent, swift.


The wolf takes a vicious, overhanded swipe at Carmilla's head and she does reflexively raise herl eft hand. As she does the bracelet on her wrist expands into a silvered gauntlet. The scream of jaws on titanium is almost deafening, the creature's teeth leaving huge scratches across the gleaming metal. But it doesn't bite *through*.

The green-haired girl rocks back on her heels and then delivers a vicious punch to the creature's jaw. It doesn't do a lot save cause the thing's jaw to ache and his head to turn… And then she's delivering a huge dose of neurotoxin. It enters through the skin and mouth, causing muscles to seize and the body to twitch and flail. If this were a normal human they would be on the ground in seconds.

Werewolves are far more resilient. It won't take more than a second or two for the thing to recover some measure of physical control. Still, Carm is able to tear her arm free, perspiration on her face as she rounds on the creature in front of her. "You're picking the wrong fight, asshole."


That's when the growling starts. The werewolf loudly protests its mistreatment, its limbs not quite managing to support it yet and it falls like a yearling doe, left leg not choosing to allow it to rise. Yet, though it's clear that it won't be long.

The werewolf is so loud, vicious and threatening that it's almost a full three seconds before the second source of growling becomes noticeable.

And you thought the werewolf was threatening.

A monster of a red wolf, crimson as blood, steps out of the bushes. And it is a monster. Muscles corded like steel, eyes as green as the first wolf's. It's possible that this fight might be becoming a bit worse than Carmilla may have dreamed…

As the werewolf slowly manages to get to its feet, eyes flickering between the two. The human, and the new arrival. And it roars, a clear message to a wolf as it sprays spittle and hate. To a streetwise human, just noise and bluster.


"You like that? Asshole." Carmilla doesn't pass up the opportunity to give the werewolf a vicious kick to the side with her heavy military issue boot. She's far stronger than a normal woman her size- and faster as well, quickly darting away after that vicious blow. "Where's the other wolf at? It's——"

Then there's that growling. Carmilla whirls just in time to see a wolf of deepest red walking up toward them. THose green eyes widen. For a second, there's honest fear on the air. She's trembling slightly, but it doesn't stop her from lifting the hidden gun from her eight o'clock holster and straining it on both of the lupines.

Then Carm pauses, watching the exchange between the two gargantuan predators in front of her. She runs the back of her right arm against her forehead, wiping away some perspiration. "…You're not together?" It doesn't stop her from keeping her pistol trained on both of them.


The kick seems ineffective, the werewolf simply snarling and rising to its feet, still a credible threat even with the current odds. There is a moment though when it seems to consider running. Pauses, its belly giving it notice. Feed me.
The gigantic wolf doesn't look at Carmilla. It keeps its eyes trained on the werewolf, the grown deep in its chest a bass note that beckons to survival; hunter and prey, yin and yang. Dead man in my sights.

It is obvious enough to even a street urchin, they are indeed not together. Glad Carmilla was paying attention!

Though the werewolf seems to want something from this. "Need…meat.." it says, then a ridiculously long arm lashes out at Carmilla, trying to slice open her side or her arm, anything to weaken an opponent.

And the wolf? It's doing something that shows intelligence beyond what it should as well, though that is not an attack. If it's being read right it seem to be flanking? Getting into position to catch, clearly trusting Carmilla to handle the first assault. Huh. Tactics.


Carmilla fires as soon as the werewolf starts to move, the gun coughing with a report far louder than anything movies have trained a person to expet. Even with the suppressor it's jarring. It catches the werewolf in the shoulder but doesn't seem to have any real effect on the thing. And, it seems, Carmilla underestimated the lenth of the thing's reach.

The petite woman twistrs away as those claws come in but they catch her in the shoulder, tearing into clothes, and the bodysuit underneath. Armoured fabric deflects the worst of the ttack, but it still slices flesh from her bicep, leaving streaks of crimson on her pale flesh. It's just a scratch, really, shallow but likely to to be painful.

Letting out a brief cry of pain Carm quickly leaps back. The thing can't follow quickly. Not when its legs are still uncertain whether or not they wish to follow their owner's commands. Moving will be tough for awhile yet. Noting the flanking position Carmilla starts to circle leftward. "Is that all you've got? Maybe you should switch to being a vegetarian. Come on!"


The round from Carmilla's hand cannon spins the creature back just enough, slows it down in its attack on her person. The distance needed for a suitable amount of monologuing apparently, and the werewolf does take the taunting as a focus. Arms spread wide, it clearly goes for Carmilla, opening its back to other attackers.

The wolf's jaws close then, a short run and a bound causing its body to land with bone-jarring impact on the werewolf from behind. The thing slams into the earth inches from Carmilla's feet, though that's the least of its problems.

The terrifying jaws of the oversized wolf clamp down on its neck, from behind, and grip until there's the sound of bone grinding on bone. Carefully, just enough to make there be no option, no escape. Death a hair's breath away, as blood drips and the werewolf's eyes bulge in captured terror.

And the wolf gives the tiniest of shakes, allowing no option. We're DONE here. RIGHT?

As those huge, canine eyes glance up to Carmilla. Too intelligent by far.

The werewolf merely twitches.


"…Uh. Thanks." Carmilla meets those thoughtful, expressive eyes and stares into them for a long moment before moving forward carefully. "…Thanks. Um. I think if you let him go he'll—- let me just… Ah. Okay."

THe small woman darts in close and reaches out toward the werewolf with the gauntleted hand. Green eyes seem to glow slightly as she turns her gaze upward. The thrashing of the werewolf slows and quickly stops altogether. It leaves Carm /beneath/ the red wolf, however, staring up. A rather vulnerable position.

"Well. Um. This is a little awkward. There are /two/ werewolves in the park?"


The complete stilling of the werewolf motivates the non-feral wolf to release, enough to sniff at Carmilla inquisitively. If there weren't blood on its maw, it might even seem kind of majestic. Wolves don't come that large though, and the chance of it being a natural one is slim to negative eleventy billion.

The wolf gives Carmilla a tiny lick on her jaw while she's effectively trapped though, and then steps back. It seems like it's trying to ease up on the threat it's giving off, let Carmilla stop being afraid. Of itself, at least.

Then a scottish voice says, "Ye knew?" as the wolf vanishes, and a tiny figure in the darkness stands there, hard to see, still trying to hide. Female, and as small as the other was large. But not coming out to be seen so easily, scared.


"I saw your footprints earlier. Way too small to be his, right? And it isn't like dire wolves frequent Central Park very often, so…" Carmilla breathes a sheepish laugh and then takes anoth a deep breath. In and out. A few, long seconds. By this point, she has her phone in hand once more, though she's operating it without looking. Sending a text message, maybe.

"So it was easy to guess you must have been the wolf whose tracks I caught earlier. Just glad you were, um, friendly. I'm not as big on the face eating thing as our friend there." So saying, Carmilla closes the gap between herself and Rahne with slow, carefully placed strides. "My name is Carm. I'm not going to hurt you or anything. We should- probably get out of here, though.There are people out lookng for this guy."


Not so easily done, the girl who was a wolf steps back behind a bush when Carm steps closer. Skittish, that would be the word to describe her. "Ah..canny stay," she says, sort-of agreeing with Carm's point. Then she seems to nod, her shadow looking worried, her body following suit.

"Ye should get tha' looked at.." A motion toward Carmilla's wounds. Then a flickering in the darkness, and there's a much smaller wolf turning to vanish into the bushes. So much smaller, it couldn't possibly be the same.

And yet, she's gone. There is no little girl with suspiciously red hair in the darkness, the night swallowing her again.

And she totally left Carmilla with the paperwork.


About three minutes later a number of SUVs full of SHIELD personnel show up to take custody of the werewolf. Carmilla is sitting on a bench nearby, smoking with herh ands behind her head and her left ankle on her right knee as she leans all the way back.

The woman doesn't even look up as the caprue is made. She just exchanges a brief nod with the man in charge of the task force in question.

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