Time/Date :It is currently 15:09 Pacific Time on Fri Dec 21 2007.

Place :

Weather :Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 41 degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the north at 12 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.41 and falling, and the relative humidity is 76 percent. The dewpoint is 34 degrees Fahrenheit (1 degrees Celsius.)

Moon Phase :Currently the moon is in the waxing Full Moon phase (82% full).


A teenaged girl standing about five-and-a-half feet tall peers at her surroundings, as though she wants to take in everything and memorize it. Her appearance is rather frail, fragile. However, there's no mistaking the look of grim determination in those pale green eyes that somehow manage to keep that look of curiosity. Her limbs are long and slender, almost to the point of being bony. But as stark as she is in body, her face is the opposite. Her features are soft and delicate, with high cheek bones that draw attention to her eyes. Deep red hair, a shade so natural, but so perfect it had to have come out of a bottle, frames her pale face, cut in loose, layered curls that brush her shoulders.
Tight jeans hug Salee's skinny legs, faded to a shade of light blue from repeated washing, white speckles here and there, presumably from a bleach spill. Tucked into her pants is a tight, white athletic top, made to keep the wearer warm without being bulky. Over the top of that is a rather 'Frankenstein' styled hoodie. The sleeves are a pale lime colour whip stitched to the main body, what used to be a black tanktop that's been sliced down the middle, a zipper added. Distressed white screened lettering reads: The Angels Have The Phone Box.


Sometime over the last couple of years, a teen girl with a poor attitude and a hair-trigger temper has grown up, and matured into a young woman. With a poor attitude and a hair-trigger temper. KL is a little over five-foot tall - no late growth spurt for her - and slimly built. She moves quickly, and is rarely still for any length of time. Her natural balance and co-ordination are clearly evident in her movement, but any hint of grace is smothered with her air of irritation, hostility and restrained aggression. She manages to turn even simple activities - like ordering fries - into not particularly subtle attempts to provoke fights.
Her brown hair looks freshly washed and conditioned and, improbably, is pulled into two pigtails that drop to either side of her head like big floppy dog-ears. She's really quite attractive, perhaps not a pin-up, but far from ugly, with a cute upturned nose and wide expressive hazelnut eyes. However, any level of appeal her physical appearance might have is swamped by the anger in her gaze and the sullen set of her mouth. She stares at people - particularly people she doesn't know - with a cold fury, as if trying to decide exactly which way to kill them.
KL has pale skin decorated in two places - on her left upper arm is a largish tattoo of something that looks a little like a bear, with its jaws spread wide and slaver falling in droplets. It has the words "No Mercy" written with gusto beneath it. On her right shoulder-blade, if visible, is a second tattoo, two-inch-square, of a winged horse. There isn't much in the way of excess flesh on her, her cheekbones are clearly visible and her bare arms have a tight musculature that speaks of regular and plentiful exercise.
She's currently wearing a short halter-top that bares her midriff, emblazoned with the Isidor Straus logo. Below that is a (matching) exceptionally short skirt that is barely decent. A pair of black knee-high boots with chunky square heels finishes the unlikely ensemble. The outfit is slightly ruined by a large bandage wrapped around her right thigh.
Around her neck hangs a pendant, an oval disk made of some kind of bone. It looks like it's been decorated with carved designs, which are somewhat hard to make out on casual inspection. The pendant is hung on a leather thong.


Somewhat more noticeable than the average teenager, he still wouldn't stand out much in a punk crowd. A deeply tanned white teenager, Basil stands at nearly six feet tall now ( or close to it ). The boy's hair has grown out to his shoulders, groomed but wild and dyed an electric red. His facial features have started to grow out and become more masculine, and if not for the three jagged scars over his right eye he might be called handsome. Above his blue eyes, his eyebrows have been dyed a slightly darker shade of red. Covering his neck is a thick studded leather collar with grease or something smeared on the metal to make it shine less. His once plain leather jacket has been added to. On one shoulder there is a rat, and on his back is the laughing head of an antromorphic coyote giving the viewer the finger with a banner beneath it that reads 'Fuck You'. Beneath it is a black t-shirt, tucked into a pair of tight fitting leather pants. A belt holds them up with a buckle which reads something, but it's hard to say what from anything but a few feet away. He also wears a pair of black engineer boots and heavy leather gloves of some kind ( typically ones that cover his forearms ) at nearly all times.


Unnatural deep purple hair reaches down to the shoulders of this hispanic girl in her early teens. Multiple piercings adorn each of her ears in an asymmetrical pattern, and a cheap stud sits on her nose.
She's wearing a dark purple v-neck T-shirt with a monochrome image of a heart with giant owl wings, stretching out across the bustline. Purple capri jeans hug her hips tightly, with floral embroidary on the back pockets and near the cuffs. On her feet are a pair of sneakers with visible 'shock absorbers', and a pink swoosh logo, with pink laces. When the weather warrants, she has a dark purple hoodie with the design of a new-agey fairy on the front right panel. She wears shiny lip gloss with a pink hilight, and her nails are typically painted various bright colors.
Her ethnic background is largely hispanic, although her facial features also have a distinctly Greek influence as well. She speaks with a noticable Spanish accent, though with the fluency in English of a native speaker. Her height, several inches shy of five feet, makes her seem at first glance to be in the latter years of elementary school, but her figure belies this assumption, having filled out considerably in recent months to be reasonably considered curvy. She has a butterfly tattoo on her right ankle (+details for more.)


Chris it would seem has grown up some. The boy stands now at around five foot eleven, perhaps even brushing the magical six foot mark as he rides through the last of his teenaged growthspurt. He is slim but very well built and muscular- evidently he takes a lot of care with his workout regime, and it shows. He has dark brown hair, kept cropped close to his scalp, and eyes of a similar shade. He's wearing a pair of black jeans, a 'My Chemical Romance' tshirt with ripped sleeves to turn it into a vest top (All the better for displaying his well toned arms) and black stompy boots, often accessorised with a black leather jacket when outside. A scar runs down the side of his face, from his left ear to his jawline which gives him a somewhat dashing, roguish air.


A young teen, Matt now stands just shy of four feet and nine inches, and weighs a bit under eighty pounds. His skin shows a healthy tan and faint rose coloring, showing him to be near the picture of health. His messy blonde hair shines from a good diet, though he would look better if he would only bother to comb his hair. His clothes are clean, if a bit on the tattered side, a pale light green tee shirt and brown fabric shorts. He has no shoes to speak of, but his feet look tough as if they had seen many trails.

Matt is sitting in the bleachers already to the game, bundled up in a school colored windbreaker, and given the two toned face paints to declare his undying support of the St. Claire home team and it's quarterback. On one hand he's got a foam #1 finger, and between his knees he's got nearly $30 in junk food, straight from the boosters club. Looks like he's living it up at the football game, and hell, he's even got a butt cushion to keep him warm.

Melodie shows up in the stands, her hair done up in a big purple braid. She leads KL and Basil to the 'good' seats, which are seats with a good view of the Polka Dot Hotties cheerleading squad. And there's a game behind them, too.

Chris is looking nowhere near as well set-up for the whole event as Matt, wearing his normal clothing as he arrives at the gate to the event, Salee at his side. "Keep an eye out for familiar faces, sis.. I spread the word a bit that this looks like it'd be worth looking into." He pauses. "And watch yourself if shit does go down, okay? Could be I'm just playing Chicken Little and catastrophising.. but something wierd is going on." His words are delivered in a low tone, for her ears only as he scans the area, stepping through into the actual seating zone.

Salee clutches Chris' hand tightly, her fingers laced with his. She gives a small nod, acknowleding his words. "And if nothing goes down, at least we got to see a football game, right?" She smiles shakily upward at her brother, "But we both know we aren't just going to see a game, right? I heard about those other stories. That didn't sound very normal to me."

The game is pretty well attended; as befits a local grudge match that's the climax of the season. It may be cold here on the shortest day of the year, but people have come in coats, scarfs and hats. Sharp eyes may see that, wrapped in an overcoat and muffler, Walter Bland, principal of the school, has shown up too, talking with a worried face to a couple of other men who have that indefinable stamp that suggests they too are on the faculty.

"Remind me to put a shirt on under this kevlar next time, it's chaffing the hell out of me." Basil murmurs to Mel with a smile on his face. His future packmate isn't the only one eying the cheer leaders. Nothing like a little pack lechery to make time fly by.

Matt is sitting up there and watching people come in and stuff, having set up early.

KL is bouncing up and down with excitement, apparently impervious to the cold - well, apart from goosebumps on her bare arms and legs. Actually sitting in her seat seems entirely beyond her - at the moment she's looking around the stadium with a childlike wonder on her face. "Go team!" she yells. "Woo!" There's nothing like staying discreet and unnoticeable when on a secret undercover mission. And this is nothing like staying discreet and unnoticeable. "This is so cool!" she says to Mel and Basil.

Melodie grins at KL. "Yeah, it's December! At least it's not raining. Hmm, which one do you like? I like the brunette, the tall one lifting the girl with the fake boobs." She points towards the cheer girls, grinning.

"Yeah.. Never even been to a football game back home, y'know? Let alone american football." Chris gives a small smile, squeezing her hand back. "I was there when they rampaged in the wall. They were just kids. Asshole kids, yes. But it's this new report from last week that has me twitched. We'll just see what happens, okay?" He lowers his voice again. "You carrying? Just in case?" His eyes scan around and are drawn to the somewhat.. early cheer from KL. And thus to Basil and Mel. "Looks like the gang's all here.. Though goddamn, could've done without KL." He comments across to his sister. "Let's go join them." Lifting a hand to wave a greeting from afar, he begins to weave his way through the punters, parents and overexcited teens towards where the other three sit.

Salee shoots Chris a 'excuse you?' type of look for a moment before realization dawns. "Oh! /Carrying/. Uh, no. I don't own my own." She tugs at the other Ragabash's hand for a moment and gives him a stern look. "/Promise/ me you'll be nice to Basil."

"I like'm all. Can I get them to go?" Basil turns and looks at Melodie with a smirk. "I've got to introduce you to some of the girls I know sometime, you'd love'm." Looking back at the cheer leaders, Basil remarks to to K-L. "Ah, you just love any old excuse to yell. That's why we love you."

KL's whoops and hollers draw some attention, including from a teenager in a Isidor Straus sweatshirt with one arm in a sling who gives her a curious look, and then, when Chris and Salee move over to join them, gives Chris another one. Most other people's attention seems to be on the cheerleaders, including, be it said, Walter Bland's. As Chris and Salee reach the other garou, the referee beckons the players onto the field and invites them to line up, saying a few words which the Garou can't hear from this range.

Matt is still watching, and keeping quiet, sipping at his cold drinks, and muching on a few snacks. He even notices the five other garou, but dosn't move to join them. Ahh, the advantages of the nose-bleed.

The Fury Ahroun studies the cheerleaders for a while, then shrugs. "I could *so* do that," she says to Mel, then drops her voice. "That's so typical of you. Well, I'll go for the one being thrown, then." She grins at Basil. "Just trying to fit in." She looks back. "Oooh! The coinflip. I think it would be better to have the wind in the second and fourth quarters. It's not that strong, but I think it will be a factor."

"Hey, come on. There's a combination of pneumatic boobies on display and the potential to kick the shit out of things. If that doesn't put Basil in a good mood, what the hell will?" Chris states to Sal with a chuckle in the back of his throat as they wind through the crowd to the other three. "Anyway, he seemed a bit more chill last time I saw him. I gave him a buzz 'cause I thought he'd be useful and wanted him along. Not because I wanted to antagonise him." And then finally they're approaching the other three. "Hey guys. Glad you could come out." He offers, with a warm smile- though KL is given a slightly wary look. "Dunno what's going to happen tonight, but even if nothing happens.. hey.. the scenery is good, huh?" A wink, and then he's moving to sit after clearing a space for himself and Salee. Eyes now turning towards the field and watching the players and referee.

Melodie settles in to watch the show. "Hey, what's the other team, anyway? I know we're the dots. Hey, Chris and Sal." She waves back to the two other teens.

Salee eyes KL for a moment before asking, "Aren't you... cold?" She snuggles up to her brother with a shiver just thinking about it. She gives a small wave and a smile to Mel and Basil.

The shivering cold cheerleaders are ushered off the field to be wrapped up and warmed, and the game begins. The first quarter is remarkable for little except the way that the Straus Polka Dots are comprehensively outplayed by Flossburg High's men, who generally seem both burlier and more skillful. At the end of the quarter Straus are already five points adrift. Straus's coach, a lean wiry man clad only in shirtsleeves despite the bitter cold, looks dejected at his side's lack of progress.

"I don't know about that, I'd say she's pretty hot." Basil glances at KL and at Chris and Salee, tipping his head. "As for the girls, if I had to pick one, I guess I'd take the red head." He looks forward again, eying one of the girls on the line with a sigh. "Alas. One of these days I'll take all of you two to the Temple."

Matt seems to be enjoying himself still, everytime the home team scores points, Matt raises his #1 foam finger and waves it about, because, obviously, the team is #1.

KL blinks at Salee. "Um... not really," she says, voice low. "I don't get cold very easily. Colorado. Rocky Mountains. Tendency to...well...break clothes." She glares at Basil, without much in the way heat. As the game progresses, she gets more and more into it, cheering the few good plays for the Polkadots, and sighing and booing when the Flossburg team score. "This isn't going well," she comments at the end of the quarter. "Going to be a long day unless we can get some offense going." Then - almost for the first time - she sits down and whispers. "Nothing odd so far."

One arm curled around Salee's shoulders to let her share in his warmth, Chris has pulled out a pair of small fixed-zoom binoculars by the time the game starts. He keeps scanning them across the Strauss players, and then returning repeatedly to the coach. "Horrid as it is to distract you guys from the boobs for a moment or two, keep an eye on that coach. Parry or whatever his name is. He's the one who keeps popping up in the news reports saying 'everything's normal, it's just high-spirits'." He looks across to KL as she talks and nods. "Yeah.. so far. I'd expect trouble to kick off towards the end- if they get beat bad or win by a large margin. Just stay frosty- no pun intended."

Melodie watches the violence, growing a little bored, and starts spending more time people-watching in the stands as the game continues. Eventually, she points to a group, "Those are the popular kids."

"See that kid with his arm in the sling?" Chris adds after another scan of the crowd. "He was one of the mall assholes. Not sure which of us did that to him, though."

Salee puts her head down with Basil's declaration of his partiality to the red headed cheerleader. Despite her love for football (her boyfriend will tell you that there can be no cuddles while the Seattle Seahawks are playing), Salee's playing the part of the disinterested sister, acting more shivery than excited. She surveys the crowd like a bored people-watcher. "Is he gonna recognize you, Darko?"

"Yeah, yeah." Basil murmurs, a little disgruntled as the women leave. The watches the game with some degree of interest, but his eyes wander across the field and into the stands, his attention waning every so often. "If something goes tits up, yeah, we'll probably see something go down. What happened anyways?" He asks, keeping his eyes away from the people he's talking to.

The second quarter sees little or no improvement in the Polka Dots' play, and Parry the coach starts walking up and down looking miserable. Once he locks eyes with Bland, the principal, and the two exchange a long mutually hostile look. Some of the spectators are starting to mutter about the poor showing Straus is making, and those who cheer them on seem to be sounding more ragged and less enthused.

Matt keeps cheering just as happily for the Polka Dots, and his snack reserves are getting pretty low too, as he munchs through them happily. Eventually standing up and heading down to the boosters store to buy more junk food.

Melodie mutters, "I thought they were supposed to be _good_. Must've stopped taking the steroids." Her understanding of how such drugs work is almost completely absent. "Look, a bunch've people are starting to leave."

"Dunno. Unlikely. Only met one of 'em up close, and I smashed him in the face just before he took a leap off a balcony. Probably in a wheelchair now." Chris shrugs. "Still.." He licks his lips nervously, watching intently. "Yeah, Mel.. This is fucking wierd. Could be they're doing something different? Hell, maybe it was just the coach feeding the lot of 'em steroids or some shit like that." He chuckles bitterly. "Just saying.. Not all wierd-shit falls under our purview." He's mostly musing to himself now, voice lowered enough so that only the other garou can hear him.

"Something isn't right," Salee remarks softly. "Parry and Bland just shared a /look/ and I don't think it was just mutual disappointment, though I hope I'm wrong." The girl shakes her head slowly, "And if the kids were on steroids... No, kids on steroids have tons of medical issues. I didn't hear about anything like that. I've got a bad feeling about this, guys."

"Are you sure you're even watching the same team here? Did you guys like, fight the defense team, the offense team, the special team.. ? Well, I guess it's hard to know." Basil murmurs, rubbing at the side of his head.

Matt goes and buys more and more junk food, before heading back for the stands, passing in front of the others on his way to his seat.

Even KL's enthusiasm seems to be waning a little. She's actually been sitting through some of the second quarter, an intense look of concentration on her face. "If anything's going to happen, it'll be at half-time. Drugs?" she asks the others, very quietly indeed. "Some kind of magic potion that gives them super-strength?"

Melodie shrugs. "I'm gonna get some nachos. I'll let you know if there's anything happening in the snack area. Anyone need anything?" She notices Matt passing in front. "Hey, Irish!"

"I'll come with you, packie." Basil murmurs, nudging Mel in the side with his elbow. "Besides, you won't be able to carry all the shit I want to eat."

"Some of the faces, I recognise. Or I think I do. Guy in the sling for definite." Chris responds to Basil. "But fuck, I don't know. I couldn't even tell you how many people are on each team before coming here tonight." He shrugs. "Like I said, this is more of a hunch than a certain thing. But what the fuck. Even if nothing DOES happen, they got cheerleaders and shit." He shrugs again. "Couldn't grab me a hot-dog couldja, Mel?" He asks of the fury with a sweet smile. And then blinks. "Matt?! Does your momma know you're out?"

Melodie gives a thumbs up. "Hot dog, check."

Matt gives a small smile to Melodie, though his arms are already loaded with round ttwo of his snacks. He glances over to Chris and gives a shrug, "What momma don't know, won't hurt her."

KL turns her attention to the crowd, scanning the faces with the same look of intense concentration as she had when she was watching the game. "If the team don't do better in the near future, people will start to leave. Might be a good thing," she says. "Do we have a plan if something kicks off?"

When the third quarter begins after the half-time break, things are different. Very different. Different enough for KL to wonder, perhaps, whether her remark was correct and whether Gordon Parry has Getafix the druid concealed in the Polka Dots' changing rooms. The Dots seem to be rejuvenated after the interval, and Flossburg cannot help but give ground all across the field. The score draws level, and then Straus take the lead.

"I'm betting if fireworks go off, people will clear out pretty quickly. Besides, no one will want to be around us anyway, right?" Salee casts a glance moonward and then turns her attention to the field. "...I don't think that was caused by a pep talk. I suddenly have this strong desire to sneak into the locker room." She shoots a grin to her tribemate, "I must be a Raggie after all, eh?"

"Wooo!" KL cheers loudly. "Go team!" She bounces and waves her arms in the air before turning back to her compatriots. "That's a pretty good idea," she says quietly to Salee. "Because something weird as all fuck happened at half-time. The players seem really fired up. I mean, it could be a fucking ace pep-talk, but I don't think that explains it."

"I hear that, Sal.." Chris agrees with his sister, blinking at the sudden change in performance. "Okay, it's not fucking steroids at least.. But jesus." He looks to KL and then back at the other girl. "So.. how do you folk feel about doing some sniffing, then? KL, how good are you at being discrete? And Sal, can you blur yourself?"

Matt mms and finds a place to sit among them, munching on some popcorn and sipping at some soda, his stuff in the nose-bleed carefree and left behind.

"Not...particularly," KL admits. "But I fit in a bit," she waves at her outfit. "I guess I'm better suited as the cavalry." She shrugs. "If you guys go, I'll follow, find somewhere useful to stand." Her voice is kept low throughout.

"Yeah, I can blur," Salee confirms. "I can go down there myself. I mean, if I get caught? I'll just say I wanted to offer the QB a blowjob. I don't know what /your/ excuse would be, Darko." KL earns herself a curious glance, "Yeah. Maybe you should hang back. No offense, but even my skin crawls from your rage. Good asset, but not so good when you're trying to be sneaky."

"Okay.. Let's give it to the end of this quarter, see what happens. Then we discretely wriggle our way down towards the locker room. Sal and I can pop our blur.. That should at least let us get inside." Chris ponders some more. "Then we can just go take a proper look around, see what's what. Gather information. As for my excuse? Hello? Foreign kid who's at his first game ever and wants to meet the team after their amazing performance? They're jocks. They'll have egos the size of fucking mountains as it is. But I'm not planning on being seen."

KL glares angrily at Salee, but doesn't say anything. She gives a curt nod to Chris. "Sounds like a plan. Um... pick a word? It's a bit difficult to hear with all this background noise, but if it quiets down, I'll listen real hard. Something you can yell which means "send in the reinforcements"".

Matt is keeping himself quiet. Yup.

A Flossburg player goes down with a crunch under two Polka Dots as the third quarter ticks towards its end.

Matt gets a call on his basic cell phone, to which he gives a short reply, and heads out of the stadium.

"Hey, it's not a bad thing," Salee holds her hands up in surrender, "It's not your fault I've got the rage of a Care Bear." She seems to ponder for a moment before saying, "If we need help, 'deuce' is the word." As in 'what the deuce did I just volunteer myself for?!' "C'mon, Darko. Let's get our scout on."

"Sounds good. KL, trail along behind us, okay? Hey, you got a phone?" Lookit, little ragabash going all dominant for once! It's almost cute! Chris glances to Salee and rises from his seat, waiting for the others.

KL shakes her head. "I don't hold with weav... that kind of technology," she hastily corrects. "I'll be a safe distance behind you. Don't want to interfer with your sneaking." She turns back to the game as the player is crushed. "Oooh." She peers closer, watching to see if the Flossie player's OK.

The Flossburg Falcons' player crawls out from under looking dazed. The referee starts to have words with the two Dots who jumped him, and the Dots don't look best pleased. Most of the attention of the crowd and players both is on the confrontation.

Chris and Salee make their cautious way down to the locker rooms and sneak inside. The home team's is helpfully labelled as such on the door, and seems to be deserted. Down the tunnel in waves comes the noise of the game and the crowd. KL takes up her place towards the outside of the tunnel, keeping one eye on it, while Basil and Mel remain in the bleachers following the game, whose third quarter is just finishing.

Once the two ragabash are safely inside, Chris at once starts looking around for anything out of the ordinary- still blurred and hard to pick out, even in a totally empty room. "THe moment we hear footsteps, we hide /properly/, okay?" He states to his sister. "Dammit, why can't the fuckers be considerate and put a big box with 'wyrm tainted go-faster pills' written on it in plain sight?" Lockers are glanced over, and any doors out of the room checked as well.

Salee immediately peeks into the trash for bottles or syringes of any sort with the plan of looking next for a bag or case that might belong to the coach. "Tell me about it, eh?" She shakes the rubbish bin a bit to shift its contents if there's nothing readily visible on top.

KL holds her guard position, trying to look like she's still involved in the game, and actively *not* looking at the tunnel. Surreptitiously, she loosens the bandage around her right thigh, seperating the layers slightly.

Chris peers through to the showers, seeing nothing more sinister than some dirty towels. Salee looks in the trash, seeing only empty bottles of Gatorade and some orange-peel. The two Walkers' eyes fall on a large hold-all with the initials GP stencilled on the side.

Basil is busy with two loaded down chili cheese dogs, one in each hand to be precious. When he sees KL fiddling with her bandage, he asks. "What's with that anyways, KL?" The boy nods at her bandage, then looks at Melodie. "I was thinking of getting the scars on my face tattooed or something. What do you think?"

Melodie casually munches on her crappy nachos, nervously watching for something that might go wrong. "Facial tattoos? That's hardcore. But sure, it might be cool, you already look scary to most people, huh? Got a design in mind?"

"Shit, check it out, Sal. Parry's bag." Chris glances back towards the entrance to the room as he moves over to it quickly, pulling a pair of gloves out of his jacket pocket. "Can't be too careful, but let's check it out. Watch my back, sis." Gift still activated, he carefully places himself the other side of the bench from the bag, all the better to duck down and hide oneself if needs must. And then opens it with gloved hands stretched out far, just in case.

The fourth quarter begins with more crunching play from the Dots, who now lead by a dozen points and soon increase it. Parry looks triumphantly into the bleachers at Bland, who looks away. Meantime, in the locker room, Chris opens up the holdall. It contains a towel, shampoo, clothing, a half-crate of gatorade, a cheap digital watch, a Polaroid camera, a deodorant can, and a bunch of keys.

Salee stands look-out and bounces anxiously on the balls of her feet, stealing little glances at Parry's bag. "What's in there," she asks impatiently.

The Fury Ahroun is still remembering to bounce and cheer the team on, though as time passes, she's starting to look a little nervy, and does succumb to darting one quick glance at the tunnel.

"Nope. Just thinking clean, black lines or something. What do you think?" Basil asks Mel, showing her his slightly chili stained face.

Melodie nods, "Yeah, you'd look like those Australian natives or something, huh?" She cringes as a hard hit by a Polka Dot causes a fumble by the other team. "Makes me glad I played gymnastics, huh?"

"Okay.. NOthing too suspect. But.." He pauses. "Why the fuck would have have the gatorade in his bag, not in a fridge or set out for the players or something?" Chris glances around the room. NOting all the empty gatorade bottles in the trash. "Okay, so they all had a drink at half-time, come out fucking nutty." He licks his lips. "Call me Mr Paranoid, but I think I might just grab one of these, have a look at it." And at once one of the bottles is lifted from the bag and tucked into his jacket. "Maybe have Mouse or someone check it out. Fuck, I wish I could sense wyrm.." He pauses, and with a silly smile quickly concentrates. "Well, at least they're not Weaverish. More than expected, anyway."

"Maybe if you come up with something cool or I see it, I'll get it done. It'd look better than just bare scar tissue, don't you think?" Basil asks, polishing off a dog with a big greasy bite.

"I guess," Salee shrugs. "I'm inclined to agree with you, believe it or not. I reckon it's gotta be the Gatorade... I mean, it's just /gay/ if the stuff's in the shampoo." She grabs a bottle for herself opens the top. She pours some of it into the trash and then recaps it, making it look as though she's already drank some from it, and hopefully that she bought it from the concession stand. "Think it's worth checking more around here? Or do you think we should scoot and prepare for a scuffle after the game?"

Time ticks past. Even with stoppages for foul plays and one or two pauses for medical attention for Flossburg Falcons players, there can only be three or four minutes of the last quarter to go, with the Dots now twenty points clear. The guy in the bleachers with his arm in a sling is looking sullen, but most everyone else in the audience -- on the Straus side, at least -- seems happy with the victory within grasp.

KL is starting to hop from foot to foot, as if she's in some level of discomfort, though quite what from is unclear. She concentrates on watching both the players and the crowd, waiting for the expected trouble to kick off.

Melodie is also starting to get nervous, with the crowd excitement, the moon, and noticing KL getting antsy. "Do you think there'll be a riot when the game ends? Like they'll tear down the goalposts or something? I saw that on tv once."

"I'd suggest we do one last sweep for anything wierd.. Dammit, if only we had some microphones or cameras or something." Chris mutters. "I'm guessing though that the excitement's going to be outside.. So one more circuit, then we bug out. Be thorough, okay?" Somewhat superfluous detail, admittedly. "If we're caught in here and things DO kick off, we won't be able to get out without things turning nasty." And at once he's doing one last visual check of the area for anything he may have missed, and then heading to the door.

Salee grabs Chris' hand quick and squeezes before doing her own sweep of the room. "If shit goes down and one of us gets caught up when this shit inevitably blows up, the other has to bolt. You got me? We have to get this junk to Mouse."

The Walkers have timed it well. Seeing nothing further to arouse suspicion in the locker rooms, they slip out of the tunnel almost as the referee calls time, a win for the Polka Dots. Cheers ring out from the crowd, but oddly, a couple of the Dots themselves don't seem happy that a halt has been called to proceedings, and start to advance ominously on the referee.

Melodie gets really nervous now. "Basil, look, those guys are gonna cause a fight. What should we do, just cover the Walkers to make sure they get out? I don't wanna, you know, go all full moon in this crowd."

KL tenses, then deliberately relaxes. She does drop a hand to her thigh, so that it rests near the bandage. And there's a tautness in her muscles that suggests, should something bad happen, she might react.

"If shit goes down, you run like hell, Sal. I'll watch your back." Chris gives her a quick look. "There's more than just you to worry about, 'kay? Don't argue with me." And then the pair have left the room and are out the tunnel to rejoin the others at the front of the tunnel. "KL.." He greets as he drops the blur behind her. "We got a lead, perhaps.. What's happening?"

"We should wait for now." Basil tells her, folding his hands in his lap and watching the referee. "If we get into a big fight, the chance of bad things happening goes up a hell of a lot further don't you think?"

Salee drops her own blur behind Chris, trying to look casual as she cradles her bottle against her side. She keeps her eyes and her ears open for any signs of trouble immediately headed their way.

All eyes are on the pitch now. Parry is staring at the players in disbelief as they reach the referee, and he goes down under their onslaught. Spluttering protests and imprecations Principal Bland trots onto the pitch, demanding an immediate end to the mayhem. A linebacker shoves him on his ample waistcoat and he sits down rather suddenly. Some of the Falcons are fleeing; others are defending themselves. One is already trading punches with the Dots' tight end. The spectators, save for Bland, do not seem eager to join in the mayhem. Several are already making calls on their cellphones; one can guess the likely recipient of some of them, if not most.

"Might be...is trouble," KL answers Chris, not taking her eyes off the referee and the players. "Don't really want to get involved, but they look like they might kill someone. Any idea who's doing this? Is it the Principal? The Coach? Some kind of for...you know?" She considers, and looks longingly at the fight. "We should go," she says, reluctantly.

Melodie swears in Spanish. "Hey, guys, be careful, I'm sure this is going to be recorded for the YouTubes!" She looks out at the field helplessly and annoyed.

"I don't like this, but it's better we don't get involved." Basil murmurs, closing his eyes for a moment with a grunt. "Inaction is sometimes the best action, blah blah blah."

"The coach. It's only very much a hunch.. But he had a stash of these bottles of Gatorade hidden in his bag. And they all must've chugged some down at halftime, just before they went nucking futs." Chris takes a deep breath. "You're right. This isn't our fight. Or at least, it isn't yet. Sal and I both got a sample, so we can have someone take a look. If that turns out to be a red herring, we start looking at things in more detail."

As more fighting erupts on the field, police sirens start to whine as, by the sound of it, several police cars converge on the Straus High stadium. Parry turns away from the scene, his face an impassive mask, and starts to walk towards the locker rooms, pushing past KL without seeming to even see the young woman. Many spectators are already making discretion the better part of valor, and the Garou decide that prudence should dictate to them in this regard also. They join the escaping spectators and make their exit onto the road outside without further incident as the police start to arrive.

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