CoR Who let the dogs out?

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Tiko

Tiko

Draconic Administrator/Mentor
Mentor
Administrator
Location
LC Corrections Facility #13, Downtown Vargeras
Desmond stood waiting in the lot outside of the Lutetian Penitentiary. He hadn't yet met Rhetta and Ziessel personally, but they would be expecting someone from the pack and he and the others would be easily identifiable by their Bloodstone patches. The Lupus Regent patch marked Desmond out as the more commonly named 'Pack Second'.

Rhetta and Ziessel had already been incarcerated for several years when Desmond joined their ranks. His rise to second in command was an unusual development given his short years with the pack, and with the recent happenings they hadn't been able to keep Rhetta and Ziessel as apprised to the general happenings as usual.

Accompanying Desmond was Xandre and Bastien.
 
Five years was too long.

It could have been worse. Rhetta was positive that they'd have loved to stick her with something more in the twenty to life range, but she'd kept it in hand well enough that all they'd managed was a drug charge. Enough that she could take the fall for it and Lutetia wouldn't come down on the Pack - the last thing Baron needed when he was still getting established, only three years into his tenure as First. Well, he'd be eight years in now, and should have things pretty well in hand - except the rumors that she'd been hearing recently were concerning. Not informative - or maybe too informative, and all the information was conflicting. Baron was dead. Baron wasn't dead. Everyone else was dead. Too many little pieces and none of them added up. That was the issue with being in prison, no one told you the straight story.

She'd get it soon enough. Ziessel was there with her, standing on the steps, having gotten the traditional are you sure you don't want to do anything that we can throw you back in prison for? speech and then the traditional fine, then fuck off speech. Both of them were probably thinking the same thing, neither one of them speculating. Sometimes it was enough to have someone nearby who you knew was on your side.

The car pulled up, escorted by a couple of motorcycles. That'd be their ride, then. Some of them were familiar faces. Xandre. Bastien. Neither Baron nor Ragenard, though, and Rhetta cast a worried glance in Ziessel's direction to acknowledge this as an unfamiliar man got out of the car. Young. Probably not even thirty, or barely that if he was.

He had the patch for the Second. Rhetta tensed, standing and moving forward.

"Xandre, who's this fuckpuppy?"

He'd get it. He knew her well enough to know that the question, the impertinence - they were there because angry was the best emotion to be having in times of uncertainty, because anything else made you weak. She'd approached close enough to lower her voice, tense and insistent:

"Is he alive?"

There was only one he Rhetta would ever ask about like that. Baron - the First. He should have been here - not some unknown walking in like he knew anything, like he knew them.
 
Xandre wasn't much for smiles. He typically had two emotions, at least outwardly: anger, and contempt. Still, he couldn't suppress one as he saw two familiar faces while he pulled his bike over.

Rhetta approached first, and in response to her, "Eh, that's Desmond, our illustri's new Lupus Regent for this celebration. To be honest, I was off in Arteghia gallivantin' with Draaven at the time. But with recent... events... Well, let's say he earned it."

In response to her whisper, Xandre's smile darkened to a scowl. And again in a whisper, matching Rhetta's tone, "Yeh, though you'll find some shit has changed, gone topsy-turvy. Still a Guiscard at the helm, but a different one, if yeh catch my meaning."

Xandre knew Rhetta enough to know that she wouldn't like that, so he took the approaching Ziessel as an opportunity to weasel out of the conversation, plastering the grin back on. "Sel! Ever the vision." He dug through the pockets on the outside of his jacket and produced a vaporizer. "Still fancy this lil' guy?"
 
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Five entire years was a long time. Ziessel would go back and stay another five, ten, thirty. If she could know she would come back to good news. She had barely slept a wink the past few weeks, not used to silence and alienation. Sure, they hadn't been allowed that many visitors. Never discussed pack business. But people had come anyway. To share gossip, books, to ask how they were holding up. But the rumours, the whispers. And now this entourage? The only one she was glad to see was their resident minion. Desmond she had expected to meet in a very different way. Bastien she hadn't been expecting at all. It was good to see him though. She wasn't disappointed, she thought, desperately lying to herself. She was very much not disappointed that Salem or Ragenard weren't here at all. She was also disappointed Baron wasn't here, even given that if he was alive like Xandre said... Wait. A different Guiscard? Okay they could ask about it later.

Prison tool it's toll, and she almost punted her old friend when he called her a vision. Maybe she didn't because he might be fucking blind to say that. She didn't growl though. She knew she looked like... Not like shit, but different and very tired. Her hair was still extremely long but sticking out in odd places, messy. Her clothes were whatever they had given her on exit. A polo and jeans that were a bit on the wide side and hung awkwardly from her definitely thinner frame. Still slender and with muscle, but more hollow. Her eyes were looking over the little group, pensive, before they widened in surprise at the vape Xandre offered. It was almost immediately pocketed, and then she leaned down and hugged him tightly, squeezing as hard as she could without saying anything. Because when she opened her mouth, she knew exactly what she'd ask. And she wanted just a few more blissful seconds of ignorance before she had to hear the answer.
 
"Let's just say there weren't a lot o' people linin' up to get punched in the face by Ragenard," Desmond said to Rhetta by way of explaining his newly appointed position. "I think it's a requirement o' his," he added with a wink.

His easy-going nature showed through smoothly.

"Crazy-ass son of a bitch," Bastien remarked with a snort. "The both of them. I swear I thought they were actually trying to kill each other at one point."

"Nah, we were just sortin' some things out," Desmond said with a quirky, lopsided grin before his expression turned more serious and he gave Rhetta and Ziessel his more directed attention. "I wish I could say I got this position on a happier note. The last few weeks have been somethin' of a trial for everyone. We can get ye two filled in back at the warehouse. Baron was goin' to be here, but ran into some car trouble on the way back to the city. He said to send his regards, and that he'll be back just as soon as he can."
 
Xandre accepted Sel's hug, offered her a peck on the cheek since she'd bent all the way down for a hug, then turned to the others, adjusting his pants as he moved.

"Fuck, man, I said yeh earned it. I'm pretty damned tough, and I wouldn'ta asked fer that beating yeh took just then." He turned back to the ladies of honor. "But Desmond is right. We should get y'all back to the warehouse. Lots to go over, n' the walls 'ave ears." He gestured to the penitentiary, with no doubt a couple of cameras and mics focused on them.

"Bastien drove this beaut t' make sure everyone had a seat," Xander added as he placed a paw on the trunk of the car. The suspension compressed visibly. "But if either of yeh jus' wanna feel the wind on yer faces again, I could take one on the backa my bike."
 
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Warehouse, trials, Desmond's tone and expression as he talked about those past few weeks...

They said so many words she didn't like, bad news all of them. Heralding of whatever disaster had descended upon their family while they were sitting pretty in prison. Ziessel growled low, softly, at Xander when he fucking kissed her cheek. A warning. But he had backed off pretty fast, so she didn't think twice about it. Maybe he was being weirdly sentimental. Material for future teasing.

"It's a pleasure to meet you then, Desmond. Congratulations on the promotion." She said first to their new second, who must be capable. She didn't know him at all, but she did know Ragenard's fists were good judges of character. Her words sounded a bit hollow, so she tried her best to put more feeling into the next sentence. "I'm sure you earned it." There. Hell, she was so tired that the bags under her eyes felt heavy. The car may look good, it was a nice one. But when she looked at it she saw what she saw. Another fucking cage. So when Xandre offered an alternative, she took the option. She couldn't wait to get on her own bike. Later, whatever. Maybe Salem's if he was feeling magnanimous. She'd bark at him for not coming to pick them up. But he must be extremely busy, as always. He must have been constantly super busy these past few weeks.

"I'll ride with you, the wind will be a nice touch." She said to Xandre, pulling a single old hairtie they'd given her after seeing her voluminous but very messy hair and tied it back in what she'd describe as a shitty ponytail. Ugh. It felt greasy and gross. She hated it, but she hadn't wanted it cut.
 
Desmond wasn't saying much, but he was saying enough that Rhetta could read between the lines, and the picture was worrying, to say the least. She knew as well as any of them that Pack business wasn't something to be discussed out in the open like this, so the suggestion to break up and talk later got a firm nod from her. Xandre offered a ride on his bike, no surprise when Sel jumped on it, especially after that hug. And kiss.

Oh, Sel was going to hear about that later. For now, Rhetta just gave the other woman an offhanded smirk, and headed for the car. "I'll ride shotgun." It wasn't likely that they'd actually brought a shotgun here, but she could always enjoy the idea. "That way I can screw up all of Bastien's radio stations."

The odds of this vehicle's radio being functional were not great, but she could always hope. Besides, it made a nice excuse, and she didn't think either herself or the new second was all too interested in being in close quarters for the rest of the ride. The car would be quieter, too, and if Bastien wanted to let any little bits of information drop on the ride, maybe she could make something of them.

Warehouse. The word kept echoing. Why the hell weren't they going to the Den? That was standard practice, after all.

Something of a trial, he'd said.

The last one of those Rhetta had been in hadn't gone great.
 
"You will have to wait until Baron brings my truck back for that," Bastien said to Rhetta before frowning. "Wait, Desmond... you said he had car trouble? Please tell me not the kind of trouble he got his truck into."

"He didn't say," Desmond answered with a grin. "But I'll let ye know if I hear about Ragenard landin' on it, or throwin' it, or throwin' someone on it."

"For fucks sake, we won't have any vehicles left if Ragenard keeps going near them," Bastien grumbled.

There was something off about the light-hearted jesting though. The laughs and the motions where all there, but something else lay beneath the surface. Something that kept the humor from quite reaching their eyes. Something that let the stress of the past weeks, and the pain of the losses slip out in subtle ways.

Desmond moved to take point for the ride back and signaled the rest to fall out while Bastien got in the car and turned on the engine to follow.
 
Rhetta looked between the others for a moment, and decided this was a good time to practice the fine art of saying nothing. Oh, there were a lot of things she could have said, it was just that she wasn't exactly sure who she wanted to say them to, at this very moment. That, and she needed more information. She shook her head a little, trying not to let it get to her. Five years ago, she'd known what was going on. Now, everything seemed to have changed, and no one wanted to tell her what the changes were. It was the right call. Too many eyes, too many ears - but that didn't make it any less frustrating.

She got into the car, even going so far as to put the seatbelt on because she was a model fucking citizen now, though she was absolutely getting rid of it the instant they were out of the area. Getting thrown out of the car could get her banged up pretty bad, but getting stuck in it while someone shot them was by far the worse option.

Bastien had turned on the engine, and she spared him a contemplative glance. He was older - they all were, sure, but he'd been pretty much a kid when she'd left. A kid who'd grown up way too fast, sure, but that was most of them. He looked like an adult now, or almost like one. She leaned back, quiet. He wasn't likely to tell her anything important, anything about the Pack. She'd have to keep it... well, there wasn't really any such thing as neutral. But she could keep it subtle, anyway.

"How's the baby?"

She was probably in school by now, Rhetta supposed. All those years, gone, just like that. She could only wonder what else was going to be missing.
 
(as written by Dreamless Realm and Jas)

Xandre'd heard the stories about the truck, of course. He wasn't there for the action, and that was one of his biggest regrets. Sure, of the Guiscards, Xandre had generally preferred the company of the younger. But Baron was still pack. Baron was First. And what was Xandre's job if not to protect his pack, and protect his First?

It wasn't his failure of course; he had been dallying around with Draaven on Baron's orders. But the dwarf couldn't stop a scowl from tinging his grin as he watched Desmond and Bastien joke about Baron's truck. Still, he laughed at all the right places and followed along. It's just what you did.

When Desmond hopped on his chopper and started it, Xandre followed suit. He looked up at Sel with that same sad grin on his face, patted the bitch seat, and offered, "Hop up."

Ziessel noticed the half-smile/half-grimace that the dwarf was offering. She looked a bit unsettled, but thankfully said nothing. Xandre caught an off-scent as she hopped up behind him--anxiety?--and grabbed onto his shoulders, digging her nails into the leather of his jacket. Hopefully the wind would clear away some of this awkward atmosphere as they rode. He barely caught a, "Thank you," whispered into his ear as the engine roared to life.

The Second would lead, and the enforcer would take up the rear, watching their asses as they moved.
 
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Baby?

It took Bastien a moment to realize she meant Sophia. Sophia had been just a baby when Rhetta got put away, hadn't she... Had it really been that long already?

"She's in Iveria, with Vanessa. We got her out of the city when things..." he trailed off. "Desmond will get you filled in when we get back."

----

When they arrived Bastien pulled up out front of a large warehouse out by the old abandoned train station. He didn't turn the engine off though.

"Go on with the others," he said. "I'm going to take the car around back. There won't be much of a reception I'm afraid. Ragenard has had most of the pack overtiming it out on patrols right now. Probably for the best. I'm sure you two will want to get filled in before the fanfare starts."

Outside the car Desmond led the way towards the entrance into the warehouse. The young prospect that was on guard duty just inside the entrance wasn't anyone familiar to either Rhetta or Ziessel. He looked to be scarcely out of his teens.

"'ey kid. Are Ragenard or Baron back yet?" Desmond asked.

"Uh, not yet. I mean, sir," Liam answered. "Am I supposed to call you sir?"

"Only if you want me boot up yer arse," Desmond answered. "Go on, get out of here. I'll have Bastien cover when he gets in."

"Thank you, sir. I mean, not sir...." Liam stumbled over his words. "I'll shut up. Going now."

"What in the fuck is a prospect doin' on guard duty?" Desmond demanded with uncharacteristic irritation after Liam had extracted himself from the awkward situation. "You guys head on in, I'll catch up after I find out whose brilliant idea that was."
 
So, things were fucked up.

Rhetta nodded understanding of the fact. You didn't send your kid out of the country if things were going well. Five years ago, Bastien had at least seemed like he'd intended to bring her up with the Pack - but something had changed, in those years, and he'd sent her off, somewhere safe.

Not a very Bloodstone thing to do, but that wasn't her call to make. Her parents hadn't sent her off to fucking Iveria, though. They'd taught her to hit back, instead. They'd pulled up in front of a warehouse, and Bastien let her out and went to go park - presumably this was where they were going, then. It was somewhere Ragenard and Baron were expected to come back to, as well.

The Den's compromised, then. Either we lost the territory, or something happened. Rhetta rejoined Sel while the fuckpuppy wasted time piddling about with some kid who didn't seem old enough to be guarding the toilets, much less the whole building.

"Xandre not talking either?" That was probably a given. "You wanna give it three minutes until we start punching faces until we get some answers, or you feeling more like a two?" She'd spoken to Sel, but if anyone else heard her... well, good, maybe it would get things moving along a bit.
 
No, Xandre hadn't been talking. Maybe it was because he was on a bike and not a car. Also, Ziessel hadn't said a word since she got on behind him, so he hadn't had much to respond to anyway. The only thing she had done was hold on to him hard enough she had clawed through his jacket a little. But he hadn't said anything about it, also a bad sign. The air among them felt heavy, nobody seemed eager to talk. Which wasn't good... just like this warehouse and its pathetic excuse for a guard. When did you put a newcomer up to that? when there was nobody else. Hm. So everyone must be... extremely busy. She let herself focus on that.

"I'm feeling like shit, and all I want is to get back to Sal's and take a three hour long shower, then drink the biggest steamy mug of marrón glazé we can find. So... I'm thinking give it five, they need to catch us up to speed." She rasped in a quiet tone. Her throat felt dry. She also couldn't smell anyone familiar beyond the ones she'd already seen. What she said was what she wanted the most right now, but she knew she was very likely going to get put back to work right away. Especially if they were all busy enough to have prospects on guard duty.
 
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Xandre pulled up and parked beside Desmond's bike as the younger man was heckling Liam. The enforcer hadn't put him on duty, of course, but he understood why he was there.

Two roughly equal forces meet on the field of battle and no matter who wins, everyone loses. Manpower was at an all-time low, and as Liam ran off, Xandre took out a cigar and lit it, waiting for Bastien to come around. He'd catch up with Desmond and the ladies inside in a moment.

As he puffed on his stogie, Xandre looked around, listened hard. Nothing unusual, until he heard Bastien's steps coming around the building to the front. Wordlessly, he nodded to Bastien and entered the door, leaving the slightly spicy fragrance of aged tobacco in his wake.

He heard the women talking on his way in, his face darkening as he heard Sel drop Salem's name. "Relax, yeh two. We're not plannin' on hidin' nothin'. Just a lotta heavy shit to talk about." He passed by them as he talked, trailing his herbal smoke. Finding a nearby chair, he pulled it out and straddled it backwards, examining some pinholes in his jacket shoulders as he waited for Desmond to kick it off.
 
Desmond entered a few minutes later, without Bastien who was presumably now on guard duty. His grim expression spoke of what was to come. There were some things even Desmond didn't make light of. And the dead was one of them. He rubbed at the back of his neck as he mulled over his words before sighing.

"There really is no good way to say this, so I'll just give it to ye straight," Desmond said. "Jacques sold out Baron to Rowan and the Scions. Jacques is dead, and Rowan too. Most of the Psion pack 'as been killed or is in hidin', but we lost over half the pack."

Desmond left it at that for now. There really was no quick way to reconcile that many losses, and the two would need time to absorb just what that meant before they were ready to start hearing names.
 
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Rhetta shrugged, noncommittal, as Xandre walked by and sat down. He was obviously trying to be reassuring, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to thank him for it or strangle him for it. Possibly a little bit of both. She didn't want reassurances, she wanted answers. And the cigar annoyed her, but she didn't say anything about it, as usual.

He'd taken a chair, anyway, so Rhetta made herself inhale, exhale, and walk over to the table by the chair he'd sat on, leaning back against the table itself rather than taking another chair, nodding Sel towards one if she wanted and making sure that between herself and Xandre, they had visuals on the entire room. The habits hadn't gone away, even if so much else had.

Desmond returned, and she noticed the moment where he steeled himself. He didn't want to be having this conversation, which probably went for everyone in this room.

At least he didn't try to soften the blow. She appreciated that, even if the information itself hit hard. Jacques? Fuck. She'd known him as long as she could remember. Hell, she was pretty sure he'd babysat her a time or two. Most of them had, that had been with the pack that long. She'd liked him, when she was a kid.

He'd been pissed about Baron. Things had been tough between them since that, given that Rhetta had thrown in completely on Baron's side of all that. He'd still been a little sore about things five years ago, but she'd thought by now it would have smoothed over. It seemed like it had festered instead, and now he was dead - him, and half of everyone else.

Fuck, that was so many.

She couldn't even ask who - they'd all be people she knew, or almost all. People she'd grown up with or helped out with or looked up to. A list of names wasn't going to do it justice. Nothing would. Most of the Scions dead, but they weren't the only other gang, and with half the Bloodstones gone, they were in for a rough ride.

"Who got 'em?" Her voice was rough. Maybe it was Xandre's damn cigar. "Rowan and Jacques."
 
Ziessel followed Rhetta and sat down beside her.

It felt pitiful and impersonal that it was Desmond who had gotten charged with giving them these news. This man who barely knew them. But at least they were together, and Xandre was there, and nobody was laughing so this was not a joke. Ziessel's hands were shaking and she took one of Rhetta's without asking, squeezing it hard. Not that the pressure would bother her friend.

"Who- who cares, fuck, Jacques? WHY?... who's dead? who- everyone, everyone who isn't here could be it, you can't just not say it!, who the fuck is dead??!" She asked, her eyes wide open with shock. She looked to the side at Xandre just in case he had poofed or something.

In her mind, she started going over what she knew. That Rhetta, Xandre and Bastien were FINE. Desmond was here, and they said another Guiscard was now leading, so Ragenard was fine. Baron they had said was also fine, and they wouldn't lie about that!. Unless they didn't want Rhetta to go on a murder spree straight out of jail?. But lying would be a bit much. OVER half the pack? She squeezed Rhetta's hand even harder than before, her eyes fixed on Desmond. Fucking Scions, fucking Jacques!, she couldn't believe that! But they weren't joking, that was certain. And his daughter? had he sold her out too??. There were too many that would fit in the OVER FUCKING HALF of the pack, package. And they had just been sitting in jail, safe and sound, while the rest had what sounded like an entire war going on. wonderful, absolutely wonderful.
 
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"Rowan killed Jacques before we got to him," Desmond answered. "Ragenard took Rowan out."

He sighed then at Ziessel's demand for names. It had to be done.

"Renard, Marc, Carlisle, Christian, Ulrich, Camille, Nieve, Graham, Thomas, Ginny, Salem, Noel, Gia, and Jean-Pierre..."

As the list grew larger, each name felt heavier and heavier. There was a grimness to Desmond's words as he looked between the two.
 
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Xandre watched the exchange somberly. As Desmond mentioned Jacques, he spit on the ground and stood up. Knowing that a list of names was coming, he moved closer to Ziessel, and placed his hand on her shoulder as she was sitting down. When Salem's came up, he squeezed gently. He wasn't trying to prevent her from taking any action, just knew that's the one she'd take the hardest, and was letting her know her loss was felt throughout the pack.

"E'ry man n' woman Desmon' listed died a Bloodstone, and will ever be with all of us," he offered, betraying his normal personality. "We all lost someone close t'us. Thomas were the fella got me in with the pack, back when I was a rotten shitstain runnin' from the Scions."
 
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