2019-10-31 - Masquerade: Midnight in the Garden

Rebecca steps in on Itzhak's arm. The blonde is dressed in an impeccable masquerade interpretation of a wood nymph. Her dress has a black bodice and overskirt, the latter made of layers of tulle fall down and up from her waist. Over the black bodice are embroidered golden trees, reaching ever upwards like living things. An underskirt of layers of white tulle brush the floor. Her mask is black with gold filigree patterns on the domino style covering, and black and gold leaves running from the left temple upwards in a fanning display. Her nails are painted matte black with gold accents and jewels on them, in sharp claw shapes. Her hair is in an elaborate up-do with little spiraled wisps framing her face.

[https://i.imgur.com/F91ZwUM.jpg]

She moves to an area where the moonflowers have bloomed to look at them, enchanted. "They did a really spectacular job with the gardens, didn't they?" she murmurs to her date. Yes, it's a date, dammit.

Clarissa has been having a wonderful time mingling and trying to guess who is who behind the masks that are here. She has utterly embraced the theme of the masquerade week, wearing an elaborate gown of red, white, and black in varying contrasts with large hearts on the swirling skirts and a stiff collar framing the back of her head and neck made out of royal playing cards. A sparkling tiara set with ruby hearts sits high on her curled hair and and idly taps a scepter topped with a heart in one of her gloves hands. Her mask likewise is half red and half black, little glittering hearts dotting the corners of her eyes. She stands by the fountain, mostly people watching at this point and relaxing until the next conversation.

Itzhak escorts Rebecca in with the air of having practiced. He's having trouble with this because he can't keep his eyes off her. For the occasion, he's wearing a sleek, slim-cut black suit, with a silky black shirt and a skinny, satiny black tie. The only color is a waistcoat of bronze-gold brocade. His masque is greenish-bronze, formed with two graceful horns, decorated with green-gold silk roses and sprays of delicate silk flowers. The horns are painted gold. Gold also paints an animalistic streak down the nose, and the eyes are highlighted with gold dust and fawnlike silver spots. His nails are painted in a sparkly gold-black. (The same as August Roen's. They probably did each other's nails.) The tall, cranky Yiddish mechanic is transformed into a high-glamor creature of legend: a faun.

Yeah, this is definitely something Rebecca put him in. He'd never think of this on his own. "Spectacular," he says, mostly watching her.

Rebecca breathes in the scent of the flowers before she straightens and turns to smile at Itzhak and plant a kiss at the corner of his mouth. She leans back once more and her smile fades just a touch because, over his shoulder, she sees something. "It looks like the mist may be moving in to crash the party, my handsome satyr," she notes with a little pout.

Grant crashed the party. He quite literally jumped the fence and broke into the party. The vagrant artist in the vans, the military green coat, layers of flannel shirt and RHCP t-shirt crouched down doing what he loves most: leaving gifts for the word in the form of surprise art in chalk. Today it is on a 2 cement block stretch what looks like ripples of water reflecting the plants and a nebula sky above. Holy shit it looks wet even. His head bobs on his own trip listening to music and possibly stoned. Who can really say.

Did somebody say sexy masquerade costumes? Because Andy! Is! Bringing it! First there's the big furry blue monster feet. Dang! And then there's the furry blue monster legs and that furry blue monster belly. Go ahead and just assume furry blue monster all the way up. Big doofy mouth and a pair of the googliest googly eyes ever. Yep, that's Cookie Monster. It's a high quality Cookie Monster costume, too. Like Sesame Street Live quality. The kind of Cookie Monster costume that might make one wonder why in the world someone has a Cookie Monster costume quite that good. Unless Andy is the costume and Cookie Monster is the real person! Like with Batman, but instead of obsessed with fighting crime he's obsessed with cookies! But probably not. It's probably just a very good costume. Cookie Monster glances around, then wanders over to Clarissa and shouts, "COOKIES!" at her.

Clarissa gives little royal waves to everyone that looks her way, trying to look as regal as possible. When Cookie Monster appears she blinks and then when he shouts at her she jumps back a high heeled step or two, clutching the scepter to her chest in alarm, "Excuse me?" She asks, half indignant and half bewildered.

Ruiz's date for this little soiree has either abandoned him, or stopped to check out one of the floral displays set at regular intervals along the path. Instead of his much commented-upon kitty cat costume that he donned for the charity 5k run, he's donned the attire of a gunslinger tonight. A dark linen shirt with the top two buttons undone, tucked into fitted black pants with a silver-filigreed black waistcoat buttoned over top. Tall boots, long gloves, a bright red kerchief tied at his neck for a pop of colour. On his head is a dusty old stetson, and a long leather duster is slung over his shoulders. The outfit, of course, wouldn't be complete without a S&W model 3 revolver strapped to the gunbelt at his hip.

He spots a few familiar faces, gaze lingering on one or two- and then distracted promptly by the fucking cookie monster. Who does that?

Itzhak dips his head for Rebecca's kiss, smiling a little, besotted. He glances over his shoulder to follow her line of sight, but mostly what he sees is someone in a Cookie Monster costume accosting the Queen of Hearts with his bellowed demands. Itzhak laughs. "Oy, what a yutz." The street rat applying stealth art goes unnoticed, but who is that handsome gunslinger? Whew.

The sudden movement of the mist stills Rebecca in reaching up to rake her taloned fingertips lightly over Itzhak's jaw with a grin. She steps to one side of him to watch it slither their way, and opens her mouth to say something else, when the mist becomes denser and isolating. It clings to her bare shoulders and arms, and everything is gone from her sight. "Itzhak?" she calls out, reaching her hand for where she thought her escort was.

roll composure

Not this again says the look on the captain's face as the wind kicks up, and that mist starts to roll in. He's gotten in the habit of carrying around a little detachable flashlight that fits onto his pistol, but doesn't pull it out of his coat just yet. Where the fuck did Erin go, anyway? He pivots in a slow circle, dark eyes hunting the gloom and coming up empty.

Itzhak startles, sparkly-nailed hands coming up and clenching into fists. "Oh what the fuck. Bex?" She's not here. Nobody is here! Only cold clinging mist is here and Itzhak loses it just a little bit. "BEX!" he roars into the mist like an elk in rut. He rushes into the blinding mist without a single bother to give for anything except finding Rebecca.

Grant is more than likely tripping balls and this is going to be something else. He thought he heard other people break into HIS stolen garden... He looks up and blinks, "Guess not..." He goes back to drawing murmuring along with whatever is in his head and honestly ain't half bad at it, "Staaaaadium arcaaaaidm a mirror toooo the moon..." That smile lights up his face and he starts to add in some of those brief hallucinations to the work as he doodles on, his hand tries to shoo teh mist. Looking up, chalk in hand and his fingers a swirl of purples and magenta he looks around. There's a heh, and then a laugh. "This... this is a sign, man. The Great Pumpkin be pleeeeased."

"Pardon me, ma'am, but I said COOKIE!" Cookie Monster steps away from Clarissa to look over when he senses something amiss. A slight frown crosses Andy's features, but no one gets to see that because Cookie Monster still totally looks like this O_O all pumped for some f'n cookies. "That's moving against the breeze. That's not usual." He thinks for a moment, then adds, "COOKIE!" And then, "But really, stay back."

When the fog rolls in, Clarissa watches it with a charmed expression, clearly thinking this is some sort of expensive party effect, but very quickly that fades into uncertainty and then briefly terror when the rest of the party vanishes. She takes in a deep breath, closes her eyes, and counts to three. Clearly this will all be fine in a moment. One. Two. Three! She opens her eyes and finds only fog. "...hello?" she calls out very nervously, "Anyone?!"

"Itzhak?" Rebecca calls again. Even though she feels that sinking cold of fear sloshing in her belly, her features are perfectly composed, calm, serene almost. She takes a step, then another, carefully, hands out, searching for her date. Hopefully she doesn't impale anyone on those pointy nails. Well anyone who won't enjoy it at least. She tries to find a landmark in the chill, damp nothing of the mist. Then it is gone, and she is in an autumn wood, a manicured wood, which suits her sensibilities well normally but is a bit freaky right now. She stares at the stream that should not be there, and turns her head to look at the others who are there. "ITZHAK?!" she calls out.

Itzhak collides with the tree, but instead of him getting hurt, the poor birch shakes all the way to its crown, showering down twigs and leaves. Itzhak just winds up fetched against it looking pissed off and bewildered. He slams the tree with a fist for getting in his way and bitches it out in Yiddish. "Vaymen barestu du mamzer!"

Ruiz is just in the process of sliding his flashlight out of a pocket of his duster, when the landscape shifts, the mist pulls back slightly, and he finds himself at the edge of a stream. Confused, and more than a little wary, he looks over at the others that emerge into view: the guy dressed as cookie monster, the queen of hearts. The girl draped in layers of tulle, and the gorgeous faun with the sparkling nails. Who is currently racing headfirst toward a tree. There's an anticipatory wince from the gunslinger, and he's definitely not smiling at the slew of angry Yiddish that pours out right after.

"Any ideas on where the fuck we are?" he asks nobody in particular, glancing up to see if he can pinpoint where the birdsong is coming from.

When things clear Andy blinks several times in a row, like maybe things will keep clearing and they'll be back in the garden, but nope! They're still here! Wherever here is! "Shit." Oddly enough he doesn't see all that shocked by the weird shit. Like weird shit is just shit like any other shit. However, he reaches up and sets a hand on Clarissa's shoulder, predicting a bad response to the impossibleness of their current situation from the socialite. Of course, he's not really taking into account that when really insane stuff happens having a giant furry blue monster paw set down on ones shoulder may not be the most comforting of things. "Clarissa." Something comforting. Something that will prevent a freak out. Something good. "This is fucked up, huh?" Nailed it!

Grant is flat on his back on the side of the river confused, "Well shit, maaaan. I dunno." It's Ruiz he's answering. After which he siiiighs heavily, and murmurs as his head rings just a bit with a whimper, "Why don't kids these days know how to read a map?" Pushing himself up he watches Itzhak go go go go go across the lawn murmuring, "Ya know, if he windmilled his arms he can get more momentum and really give that tree hell man. YOU GOT THIS BABY! TAKE IT DOWN! WOoooo!" Does he even know who that guy is? Does it matter?

This isn't happening. This isn't happening. "WE ARE AT A GARDEN PARTY!" Clarissa replies to Ruiz in an overly loud, shrill voice, "THE CHAMPAGNE HAS BEEN--AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" She shrieks when an actual monster sets its hand down on her shoulder and knows her name, swinging her scepter with all her strength at his arm! But the most lifting she's done lately has been a champagne flute and the scepter isn't made for hitting people, so it snaps in half rather than causing him any actual damage, which just makes her scream again, "AHHHHHHHHH!"

Rebecca seems utterly relieved to hear that stream of Yiddish profanity dancing on the air. The blonde pushes her mask up, so it rests atop her head, so she can see around her better. She picks up her skirts and begins to head towards the Satyr with hurried steps. She shakes her head at the gunslinger. "No, but I think we're Over There. It happened to me Downtown before." And that was how Billy the Ghoul's bones wound up on the Gray Harbor side of the Veil, so she's rightfully concerned at the moment. She continues to the side of the lanky Jew and sets a hand on his arm. "Are you all right?" she whispers, too concerned about him to notice the GIANT ELK THING on the other bank.

Itzhak sweeps Rebecca into a hug. "Thank God. Yeah I'm fine." He shoots Grant a hell of a dirty look. "Shut ya face! And get up, we're in a situation. --Guys, guys," he says urgently to the screaming Queen of Hearts and the baffled Cookie Monster. "Get ya game faces on." Sure, like he didn't just punch and cuss out a tree. De la Vega's voice is what Itzhak recognizes finally. One arm around Rebecca's shoulders, he glances at him, hazel eyes bright in the faun mask. Hang on...Ruiz looks really hot in that outfit, quick once-over...okay. Itz shakes his head. "We're across the border, but deep. Anything could fuckin' happen." He looks narrowly at the birch he ran into, half-expecting it to uproot and come after him. But what actually happens is a magnificent black elk steps from the forest.

Then the tall faun lifts his head in alarm, like a deer himself. "You hear that? Something crashin' around."

Right. So there's Itzhak eating a tree over there, a cookie monster that sounds like one of his detectives (and probably is), Clarissa flipping her shit, and Grant might well be high on something. Never mind the big ass elk that's just wandered on up. Oddly, none of this seems to faze the Mexican a whole hell of a lot, though it has been one crazy fucking week. He lets Rebecca sort things out with the lanky Jew, and keeps his hand on his holstered pistol as he slowly approaches the elk. From the side, perhaps so as not to spook it too much, and careful to keep his distance. He just wants a better look at the animal. "Direction?" he asks Itzhak without looking over.

"AAAAHHH!" shouts Andy in response to being attacked, but then the attack doesn't do anything and also Clarissa is the tiniest person ever and also he's just shouting because she's shouting. So once that moment passes he says, "Are you quite done?" He looks around at the others here, but doesn't really recognie anyone except for, "Captain. Good to see you here in..." A brief glance at their surroundings. "...Narnia?" It's possible he's got a followup, but instead he turns to look at the birds, specifically the chickadees, eyebrows furrowing. "What's late?" And then, "When will who come?" The jays just get a look, like a grown-ass adult listening to teenagers complain about how tough life is. Itzhak's comment brings his attention back to the humans. "Yeah. It's..." He screws his face up, then steps forward, turning back. "It's behind us and it's coming this way." Back to the chickadees he says, "What's coming?"

Breathing heavily, Clarissa takes a few quick steps back away from Cookie Monster, trying to calm down but holding her broken scepter in front of her like it's a broadsword, "...Andy?" She asks, sounding a bit dazed. The big, strange, beautiful elk gets a wide eyed, kind of wild look, "...we're drugged. I think the drinks must have been--" she starts to say, before spinning around in alarm to look behind her, the weight of her skirts nearly toppling her over. "I hear it too," she whispers, hands shaking. "Someone call 911!"

Grant laughs at Itzhak shooting him a dirty look no more ruffled than the Dude. "Yeah of course we are. And you're yellin and that guy there is totally trying to get his lunch on man." He turns and like, maybe an idiot he waves, well he pauses and lowers his head telling Andy and Clarissa, "I think the Elk is in charge would be my guess." Looking back to the birds he whispers trying to turn the volume up on his right er, "Hey, um, sorry he didn't mean to yell. We good?" Yeah he's negotiating with animals.

Rebecca presses close to Itzhak, gleaning some warmth from him. Her shoulders and arms are chilled. Then the horn sounds, the hounds bay, and she blinks at the Elk in wonder and fear. She reaches her taloned black fingernails into the air, as if she can feel that thing hovering there, just within her reach. And she grasps it, and pulls it to herself. Then she is no longer a woman, she is the puma, forest predator, great cat, with a tawny coat the gold of her own hair, and claws as matte black as her painted nails had been.

"Behind us--" Itzhak doesn't so much accept the elk's blessing as get bowled over by it, his powerful shine catching it like a sail. He's trying to swear as he drops to his knees but nothing comes up. When he struggles to his feet, he's another creature of legend: a unicorn. The unicorn is black with greenish-bronze-gold highlights in his sleek fur and silver speckles like a fallow deer. He's shaped sort of deerlike and sort of horselike, but his own creature more than either. The long, long sharp horn and the cloven hooves are bronze. The unicorn stands there, swaying like a newborn foal, sides heaving. The baying of the hounds drives him into a panicked leap. He has no idea what just happened except he needs to run.

It's probably no great surprise, at least to one person here, what form Ruiz takes when that horn sounds. A guttural snarl accompanies his shift into a leak wolf with a shaggy coat the colour of hoarfrost. It is predator rather than prey, but it runs nonetheless, almost as if herding the others.

Where Cookie Monster was sits a bird the size of a large dog, which doesn't actually look like a raven, but which one might understand to be a raven on an unconscious level. Thick lines, black and orange swirls that pick out the lines of the creature, on its wings and chest, with a large, heavy orange beak and with lightning in its eyes (and probably thunder in its talons, though one really can't see thunder so it's mostly the lightning that counts) that leaves electric blue trails behind him as he moves. "The hunter is coming," croaks Andy the Bird, who only realizes that he's suddenly a bird when he speaks. Looking down at himself he says, "Oh, fuck that." But, nope, stuck as a PNY Indian's rendering of a raven, the kind of bird that tops a totem poll. He nudges at Clarissa, then takes wing, though not all that wingy a wing given his inability to really soar. "The chickadees are saying that the hunter is coming. I don't know what they're talking about, but chickadees don't have the imagination necessary to lie. We need to go!"

When the horn sounds, Clarissa has the same knotting in her stomach and jolt of fear that everyone else seems to also feel. However, unlike everyone else, she is still in absolute denial that this is happening. She hears the Elk's warning and turns, lifting her skirts in white knuckled hands to run, especially when a giant bird nudges her. But her feet remain feet and her form remains human as she just books it away from the sound of those hounds, "SIRI TEXT MICHAEL CALL 911 SEND!" She shouts to her phone, tucked somewhere in a hidden pocket of her skirt, as she does so. Of course she nearly skids to a stop when she sees more people changing into animals, new levels of panic washing over her, but then there's a wolf behind her and she screams again, sprinting away as fast as she can in heels. Which is surprisingly fast! She must have had lots of practice.

Grant calls back to Itzhak, "Yeah we're behind you all the way buddy." Looking around he slaps his heands to his chest and laughs, "A Baxter don't back down! We... Oooooh shit dude due due we run yo!"There's an intake of breath and with little provocation he hides behind the nearest person he has. Ruiz!... nope, he gettin smaller! As he tries to hide behind taller his legs get littler and littler and his ears big big huge and his nose pointy and sharp until a Fennic Fox stands where the stoner lounged artfully. "Eeee!" The tiny fennic leaps for the back of Clarissa's leg and with some impressive agility climbs her stuffing his snoot in her hair to hide.

Rebecca the mountain lioness leaps away from the sounds of horns and hounds, in giant strides, the ground eaten up by her paws, her thick tail balancing her. The unicorn should be prey, but somehow she knows it's Itzhak. She keeps pace with the glorious mythological beast, sharp blue grey eyes scanning the terrain ahead of them, following the elk. She growls, a deep rumble in her creamy-furred throat, and tears up the earth with her passage, spurred to greater speeds.

The wolf streaks along after the others, quite obviously keeping to the rear of the little group, almost as a first line of defense between them and the hunters. If anyone starts to lag behind or stray, it darts in to nip at their heels with a low snarl.

The black unicorn snorts in fury, steam gusting from his long, finely-carved nose. Fuck you! I'll fight ALL YOU PRICKS! Such language from a symbol of purity! But he doesn't turn to fight. Instead he charges at Clarissa on her human legs and ducks under her, scooping her up on his back along with foxy-Grant. Hang on, he orders her, and he runs like hell. His hooves shake the forest down! Trees and boulders erupt from the manicured earth and fling themselves into the path of the hunters with great showers of dirt.

<<Go>> Rebecca-lion sends to the others, before she breaks off and settles in a crouch beside some bushes, constructing a Glimmer illusion around herself to blend in with the scenery. She crouches, waiting for the riders to pass for a sneak attack on the trailing hunter.

"I don't think Siri is listening," grouses the raven, but then Clarissa is running and it's Andy who is having to keep up, taking wing behind her, urging her forward until it stops being necessary what with the unicorn lifting her up and tossing her on its back. "And here I thought only virgins could ride a unicorn." The raven keeps as high as its wings will let it, keeping point before wheeling back to watch the others run, then continuing forward in his own retreat. "I miss being cookie monster."

"I AM NOT A PRINCESS I AM A QUEEN!" Clarissa shouts entirely rationally at the fox as it climbs her and the bird as it tries to talk to her, waving her hands and the broken scepter around uselessly like she's going to scare them off. But she is after all following a big magical elk through a magical forest surrounded by other magical creatures, so there's a part of her that wonders if she got the wrong costume and the world just doesn't respect a Princess of Hearts. She spins around for a moment to try to get the fox off of her, but Ruiz is there to cause her to jump back and then the Itzhicorn scoops her up and she's too shocked to scream, grabbing onto his mane for dear life, "This is not happening. This is not happening!" She repeats over and over again. She doesn't even glare at the Andy-bird because she is so focused on not falling off the obviously imaginary unicorn.

The wolf slows to a trot, and then a slink when it realizes that Rebecca has dropped behind. Its eyes glint as it seems her out amongst the faltering shadows, and it rounds back to try to distract the hunters and keep them at bay while protecting her position.

Grant is trying to hold oooooh! That is definiately Grant Baxter's coice coming out of tiny fox, "Kaaaweeeeeen you better cool your tiara cause Your fine ass just got Disneyfied, my friend." His eyes quint. one paw come's loose. "Don't... throw... the...-meeee!" And there goes a caramel colored fuzzy shotput through the air. Thud. Roll. Feet! he's on his feet! He starts ruining at- oh shit!, nopenopenope! away! G-Bax is running away from the arrows like a ski hill as they hit the ground.

Rebecca is not soft or sweet. She is a predator in this form, and her claws are real. She is strong, she is fast, she needs to return all the saving Itzhak has done for her in the past. She needs to buy time for the others to get away. When Ruiz turns as well she stalks the periphery, working towards flanking the hunting party with the wolf, so they can cause as much chaos as possible among them. Then she turns in and leaps at one of the riders, trying to unseat them.

Itzhak-the-unicorn squeals as the arrows come flying. He's agile on his long legs and he dances aside, slewing his head around to send a wave of force that turns arrows in midflight and fires them back at the hunters. Luck is with him and none of the others get feathered. Did you just THROW that guy?! he asks Clarissa in disbelief. The hell is wrong with you! RUNNING! He squeals again in alarm when the elk takes an arrow, and really pours on the speed.

The wolf send to know, even without the benefit of words, what the big cat is thinking. These two might never be friends out in the wild, but here they work almost in unison; she streaks left and he bounds into the underbrush, and keeps low to the ground as he races alongside her through the treeline. Once he's near enough, he crashes back into view and leaps at the hunter riding alongside her target.

"Fuuuck this," croaks Andy, who gets ahead of the pack, then takes a tight turn and flies back toward the mass of inhuman hunters. To the unicorn as he passes the raven says, "Keep her safe, or I'll never hear the end of it!" before picking up speed. The faster his wings flap the brighter his eyes get, electricity now dancing down his body, arcing across his wings. By the time he gets back to the hunters he is a living bolt of lightning. One that heedlessly slams himself right into one of the monsters.

Rebecca's leap from the ground looks languid from afar, all muscle and grace, but up close it is a terrifying thing of ferocity and flashing teeth, sharp claws, and eyes full of predatory rage. Her massive paws hit the Huntsman in the chest and knock him off his giant fox mount. Then she slashes her claws across him, preparing to send a taser-like jolt of electricity into the hunter.

"I don't believe in wearing fur!" Clarissa snaps at Itzhak as she ducks her head against--are those arrows?! And gasps when the Elk gets hit. The stress of the situation is clearly getting to her, moving her from absolute terror to being incredibly annoyed that this whole hallucination is happening. How DARE someone have spiked her drink with LSD or some other weird drug. Does acid cause intense hallucinations? She doesn't know, but suddenly there's a spiky dog next to her and she screams and throws her--wait, didn't she have a scepter? Well now it's a mace and instead of doing something useful like swinging it at the hellhound, she instead just whips it at it.

Grant is tiney, wiery, and driven. RUnning like hell really this isn't much different than playing Tony Hound Pro Skater III on that old Xbox. Right! Somewhere his superhero team, the GHOSTS will be so proooooud! Also he makes a mental note to make that name stick. Word! Tiny sharp class dig into the hide of the hell hounds zapping the shit out of it as Grant yell, "I. AM. JOLTEON!" And with that hops to the next. he doesn't try to finish them so much as slow them down and gain progress. "Woooo!"

Rebecca''s claws are already wet with one hunter's blood as she turns to sprint after the hunters who passed them. Electricity crackles along those black claws of hers as the earth kicks up under her strides. Her muscles bunch before she launches herself at the back of one of the remaining fox-mounts and slashes her claws downwards. ZAAAAAAAAP!

The more Clarissa thinks about this ridiculous situation the more angry she gets. This is all so definitely not happening. She's being cowed by hallucinations?! Clarissa Robbins does NOT let hallucinations get the better of her! Maybe it's the costume, but she then does something completely mad, which is let go of Itzhak's mane and slide to the ground in front of one of those hellhounds. She turns to face it with all the righteous fury of a woman denied a nice night out in an expensive costume. She could be drinking champagne! Channeling all that rage she lifts her chin, points at the hellhound and says in a commanding voice, "Sit! SIT! Bad dog! You. Will. SIT!"

Itzhak may technically be a prey animal, a hooved beastie that is made of delicious magical flesh. But when he realizes a hellhound is vulnerable with those wide-angle lens eyes, he screams a stallion's challenge and turns on the thing. He knocks it down with his horn, pins it to the forest floor, then plunges into trampling it, hooves flying. Gore spatters him and Clarissa. Tossing his head, he slings the hound aside, the body sliding off his horn. So THAT's why it's important to take a lot of hounds when hunting.

The wolf races alongside Rebecca, then swerves at the last moment to sweep low past the feet of one of the foxes. Without breaking stride, it tears a vicious gash along the big muscle in its leg, aiming to bring mount and rider crashing to the ground. Then the white-furred beast keeps right the fuck on running at a dead sprint, headed for the next nearest target.

Grant flares his tail oin the air and static doens't damage teh hellhound so much as make it really fluffy. He hunker down when Andy swoops in, "Yeah, cookie! you... bonk em good." He pauses and looks out, "Your kingyness! we're comin to help you. Stuck in traffic. Bee-are-bee!" He might not really be brave but he is dauntless and that citizen needs help! Man mental note: getting stoned and painting totally worth it.

Andy bobs and weaves to avoid getting hit by his previous target, then flies around and streaks toward the next one. Except there's just not enough room to build up a good thunderhead and when he hits the hunter there's less of a zap than a fizzle. "Well, shit." So instead he digs his claws into the thing's face and jams its beak into it over and over. That works just as well!

Massive jaws close gently around the arrows in the elk and pull them out swiftly, before the massive Rebecca-cat presses her head to the side of the elk's, and lets her spirit essence creep into the beast, beginning the healing process for the creature, and speeding it up.

Finally, something in this damn nightmare makes sense and the hellhound listens to Clarissa when she tells it to sit. She breaks out into a brilliant smile and calls out, "Good dog!" In a very pleased voice. She spins around when the Elk gets hit again and spies the new hunter who she should be terrified of, but she's still going on righteous fury and indignation so she shakes her head and levels a finger at it and its horrifying fox mount, "No. Absolutely not. This is done. This is over. This is the part of the dream where it all fades away to nothing and we wake up to realize that we've all just had too much to drink from a possibly spiked punch bowl. I am done with this nightmare. Go crawl back under someone's bed or slide into the shadows of a closet. You've lost. Go. Away!"

Itzhak realizes almost too late that the hunt is driving them towards something even worse. When the elk goes down, he cries, NO! You can't have them! Battle-mad, he springs over the fallen elk, rears and screams in defiance, putting himself between the elk, the others, and the most horrifying hunter of all. Hooves slashing, horn poised, dancing on his hind legs, he looks exactly like a heraldic unicorn on a war banner snapping in the wind. Clarissa backs him up with civic responsibility. Don't cross them, evil hunter! They'll trample and scold you to death!

Andy gears himself up for a big attack, flying a loop around the jerkass leader of the jerkass hunters, gearing himself up for a solid day-saving blast! Then at the last second he flies off back toward the others. "Fuck that. Have you seen that thing?!"

Ruiz slinks in closer, lean body rippling with electrical charge under its ghostly white fur, head low, bright eyes riveted on the lone hunter that emerges on the ridge. There's a rough snarl in its throat, and then it throws its head back and howls long and low, the sound shuddering through the air like the scent of thunder on the horizon.

Grant is a tiny thing. . Tiny and full of great justice and... possibly several substances not intended by nature. crouchcrouchcorouch! yeah they're paying attention to the adults. and he is ignored (Noooo Bax do not wiggle the tail, do NOT!) He wiggles it flat against the ground as a compromise. And then when all the cool dramatic shit is happening that tiny fox leaps up and- oh god did he just bite that mean man's jubblies? Oh that's not a piercing it's a staticy Fennic fox hanging from that evil dude's inseam.

Perhaps not the brightest move... like ever, but totally punk rock.

Rebecca stands beside the healing Elk, her fur bristling at the ultimatum from the Huntswoman. Clearly, her choice is to protect the elk. Her ill regard can eat a bag of dicks as far as the mountain lion is concerned.

"Lady, the only blessing I care about is from Anna Wintour and I got that in the summer of 2015 when she said she liked my shoes," Clarissa replies with a sniff, folding her arms and keeping her queenly poise, "Do what you have to do, but if I'm sleeping through my alarm right now I'm bringing a bill for my time to my next nightmare."

Andy drops down and settles on a branch, taking a moment to fluff out his feathers so he looks nice and impressive. "I can take your ill regard. I've been through a divorce."

The tiny, stupid, dauntless fennec! No! Itzhak lands on his front feet and gouges up the turf, pawing furiously. He's not ours to give, Orochim! And he ain't yours to take! So go shit on the ocean, why don't ya?! Nope, he's not budging from defending the elk or the rest of this absurd party.

Ruiz bares his teeth at the fox who's staring him down, tail lashing like the animal wants to get into it with him. Bring it says the flash of his eyes, and ragged snarl as he prowls in front of the elk. His intentions are clear, and either he can't or won't speak them; he isn't leaving his friends, and he isn't leaving the hunter's quarry.

One eyebrow arches and then he realizes his comedy of errors and epic wins. He goes sailing like a big fuzzy golf ball and bounces once, then twice and tucks in and pulls to his feet shaking and planted low. There's a lot of talk from the others. He's dizzy, he hurts, and that was a total rush. There's big defiant words from teh rest of the group and as soon as she takes eyes off of him he's back at it again tiptoing with a slight limp to do it again. He pauses when her eyes find him again and he sits with a flick of his tail. There's a lot of fuck nos .. the small fox shrugs, hops to his feet, fluffbutt in the air. Oh god is he going to try again?!

Itzhak hastily steps on Grant's tail as the fennec starts to go sneakysneak. Are you meshuggenah??

Grant comes to an abrupt halt at the spine and all four tiny stubby legs shoot out sideways as he falls belly to dirt with a cough like a squeaky toy.

Rebecca growls low in her throat at the sound of the horn, feeling the reverberations move through her. Then they are alone with the elk in the nowhere in-between, and she dips her head to the creature out of respect. When she raises her head again, she is human once more, exhausted from the efforts on the other side, and a bit wobbly on her feet.

When Ruiz comes to, he's on his hands and knees in the wet grass. Not a wolf, any longer, but a man. A man in a gunslinger's outfit, shrouded in that long leather duster, grass stains on his pants and his stetson's blown into a patch of lilacs. He pants slowly, steadily, and doesn't move for the longest time.

Clarissa closes her eyes and puts her gloves fingers up to her temples, rubbing at them as she hears all those people talking in her head and when she opens them again and sees that they're all back in the garden she quickly digs in her pocket to pull out her phone, "Siri, text Michael I need to know who catered the garden party event period possible food poisoning or drugging question mark does LSD cause hallucinations question mark and order me some smelling salts are those even still a thing because--because--" and then the phone falls from her fingers as she falls over in the grass in a faint as her mind is absolutely unable to catch up to the change in scenery and reality.

Grant is in the garden and looks at his drawing. That look is concern and that lip is split, andbleeding in such a way there's a wince. Looking to Ruiz uncertain, and clearly on something he tries to help the old wolf out, "Should get out of here before the police come, man." Maybe not bright, but that drawing left in his wake maybe too real. Too much.

The bird fluffs its feathers again and then there's no more bird, there's just a Cookie Monster. "Well. That was f- oh, god damn it, Clarissa." Andy pushes himself to his feet and waddles over as quickly as possible to squat down next to the fainted town historian to pick her up and hold her this way and that way, trying to figure out the easiest way to do this that allows her to keep some dignity. Not gonna work! So instead she goes over his shoulder. "Welp. I think I'll deliver the Queen of Hearts to her castle."

Itzhak is breathing harsh and fast through clenched teeth, head lowered and ready to skewer somebody with his no-longer-existent horn. He staggers in place, catching his balance, and looks around, bewildered and adrenalized, still in the faun mask. He grabs Rebecca and kisses her deep and hard, in front of God and everybody.

Woof. Rebecca gets good and kissed and she is all too happy to return it equally fiercely, because she just went all badass on something on the Other Side, taking back a little of what she lost in the wake of Gohl.