Description: In search of other of her kind, Felicia is shot trying to shake down an exotic pet dealer--and must turn to Alice and Sabrewulf for help.
It's been a while since we last checked in on Felicia, after having gotten that glimpse of another of her own kind, that being catwomen. It couldn't be true--had to be bullshit, but she had a sneaking suspicion it was, deep down--even if the evidence had come from the Southtown equivalent of the Weekly World News. There /had/ to be others of her own kind out there, maybe someone had taken them in like the nuns had hers--or even being kept by someone. Hell, Mike Bison had freaking tigers as pets, didn't he?
Which brings our heroine to her current predicament.
The sound of the nine millimeter in the small apartment, especially for one that had enhanced hearing like her--the pock-mark holes that opened in her shoulder and chest afterward felt like two giant hornets, somehow white hot and burning--had burrowed into her skin. There was the sound of breaking furniture and screaming and the door to the apartment's narrow stairwell broke open--a man and what looked like a blur of blue and white tumbling down it.
The interrogation of the exotic pet dealer had not exactly run to plan, she realized, especially as she looked up and over and realized the man's neck was pointing very much at an angle it shouldn't. Ruh roh.
She'd lost her flip flops in the chaos but she had the dark wool trenchcoat--a bit out of place on this still somewhat refreshing early fall weather--to cover her as she stumbled off out of there before anyone came sniffing. To one of the few places she knew she could duck into and just disappear--the Gold Lounge. She'd sang here once, and done a show for the Midnight Channel--or was it still SNF then? She couldn't rightly remember--all she did was head right for the bathroom as soon as she got inside.
The sound of the small wads of lead hitting the porcelain of the sink were almost as loud as the gunshots had been, at least while she was all alone. The women's bathroom was deserted, least for right now.
Alice hasn't been here since her first visit, despite the fact that she enjoyed that evening and had planned to come back, life has been a bit busy for the former nurse. She did find she enjoyed having a place to go and relax, where no one would care if she was in her rabbit form as she was tonight. She sits on one of the couches, eating some taco salad and occasionally sipping from a margarita. She looks up a moment after Felicia enters, having noted that a few others in the club had turned to look as she entered.
It wasn't until after she entered the bathroom that the scent of blood wafted over to her nose and she put her salad bowl down on a nearby table and made her way toward the restroom as well, ears swiveling toward the door as she hears the sound of extracted bullets falling into a basin, something she's certainly heard more than she'd like to think about. She walks up to the row of sinks but is mindful to give the feline woman some space, though still turns to look at her and asks with a concerned tone. "Are you alright?"
Intense focus; blurring of motion; slashing claws; the sound of fabric ripping; split curtains; broken glass; impact against ribs; cracking of bone; monstrous snarling; scream from a baby upstairs; clatter of furniture; racing footsteps; clawed scrambling over a rug-covered floor; splintering wood from a doorframe too small; chasing a figure upstairs; following the smell of blood.
von Sabrewulf had no intention of returning to the club so soon. While his money is good and the alcohol here is plentiful, this is one of the rare occasions where Konrad is staying sober. Perhaps it might be easy to see how this place isn't his jam. It's loud and colorful and full of all sorts. Clawed hands run down over his face as he paces back and forth in restless thought while a clear memory haunts his recollection. Strangely, the smell of blood is vivid, even if the scent is incorrect.
The werewolf curls his upper lips back to expose his large teeth in frustration as he stops to turn to pace whence he came. The injector strapped to his arm with leather and metal contains a glowing green liquid. Perhaps there's a reason he's avoiding alcohol at the moment. It must be a new formula. One hand brushes over the device absently, so lost in thought is he that he misses the therianthrope he met before wander by amid the numbers, but it's not until his idle wandering along the walls and corners comes to an end in front of the female restroom that he realizes the truth of the matter.
A rivulet of saliva drips into a ribbon from his muzzled face as he sniffs the air deeply. Somebody is injured. Somebody in the room wherein Sabrewulf now blocks the door. Claws settle on the door itself, but there is no motion to enter. Not yet. It wouldn't only be rude, but it might seem...opportunistic from such a scary-eyed monster.
Felica's shoulders and face were almost entirely obscured by the huge mane of blue hair, ears twitching a bit at the sound and not looking over until she hears that voice, even after the door opens. She slowly cranes her neck over to the... surprisingly large humanoid rabbit standing there in the doorway. Not a great thing to see when under the influence, to be sure--but then, who was she to talk?
"Nnnnot really," her green eyes wince, cringing a bit as she looks down at the still sucking chest wound--besides the hole in her shoulder, the latter had started to close up better--it wouldn't have been fatal for a human, likely--but the one in her belly was most likely, pre-hospital, especially.
"Some goon shot me," she doesn't explain anymore than that, the white fur of her hands bloody from trying to press the wound in her abdomen closed. She kept her eyes on the doorway, realizing there was some kind of crowd forming out there--seeing the set of claws. Obviously other creatures smelled the blood. That was a risk she had to take, she didn't wanna transform into housecat form to hide and end up getting shot in /that/, it would probably be trauma she wouldn't walk away from.
Of course, Felicia has heard that sort of noise of sniffing before, it doesn't tell her good things, exactly.
One ear turns back towards the door as Alice hears something large out on the other side, sniffing. "Were you followed here? If you were, I can try to fend them off. Otherwise I can try to treat your wounds as best I can, you might still need a hospital, and also a bathroom is probably not the most sanitary place to be taking care of open wounds... I'm Alice, by the way." She offers, trying to move a little closer and get a better view of Felicia's wounds, doing a good job of not looking shocked at particularly the chest wound. "Hmm, what to do, shall I check what sort of company we've got? You'll be ok for a few minutes?"
It doesn't take somebody with sensititve hearing to make out the discussion of gun shot injuries from the door, but the werewolf there certainly hears. The claws on the door withdraw -- unless it's due to some danger hearing Alice discuss the idea of checking it out -- and the beast turns to make his way to the nearest bar. This is a place of business and everything is kept civil, so the question is how staff might react to a buff Darkstalker blue Wolfman with killer claws approaching, cutting through any service of customers waiting, to explain to the mixologist at present that there's been an injury and that he needs help to concoct something to help sterilize and heal. "Put it on my tab. Will settle up later."
What does he need? The strongest cleanest vodka as a base in order to make an infusion of wormwood and sage as shaken, strained twice over, while looking for a torch that is used to spark inflammable cocktails and citrus oils. He needs to use a flame to roast the outside of a lemon rind before using a knife to scrape away the burnt outer layer and peel the thin layer just underneath to add to the tincture. "I need either a human thumbnail's size of copper or pure gold to act as a catalyst. Somebody -- anybody; you'll get it back after. US cents won't work unless dated '81 or older. The rest are mostly zinc. Gold would act faster. This is time sensitive..! Alchemy requires exacting proportions and timing. Drop it into the tincture and stir until bubbles start forming enough to stick to the side of the glass. Clean cloths are where?"
"I don't know, humans can't find the door anyway--that's why I'm here, oof..." she turns, and Alice would be able to see the wounds, nodding to her.
"Do you have a bandage or compress or anything like that? I didn't want to be caught out there while I was hurt--would be dangerous," Felicia apparently is open to letting the rabbit look at her, while she slips the overcoat down and off, hanging it on a bathroom stall.
"You wanna look at it out there? Well... alright," Felicia felt like her throat and mouth was very dry, she'd been temped to slurp water up from the faucet of the bathroom sink--wouldn't be the first time, she reckoned.
Meanwhile, Konrad is fairly lucky that the waitstaff, including the bartender, Louis, as well as Cinnamon had been given specific instructions to get the big blue wolfman whatever he wanted by the owner, otherwise they might have been a little annoyed at the sudden extensive request. The deer man behind the bar sighs and moves to get the required ingredients. And speaking of the club itself, it's not nearly as loud or as packed as the wolf might take it for--right now it's just got mild traffic. There are a few other patrons who give him the eye though, some for different reasons than others.
Alice nods to Felicia's questioning of wanting to treat her outside. She considers for a moment changing back to her human form but decides it might just draw extra attention and waste time, so she just washes her hands as it is, taking a small amount of extra time to make sure with the fact that she's got claws and fur at the moment. She heads out of the bathroom, nimbly opening the bathroom door with her right foot. Once Felicia is in a spot to rest for the moment, Alice joins Konrad at the bar. "Does this place have a first aid kit I could borrow?"
The imparted oils from a fresh swath of sage color the ethanol green, yet the infusion of wormwood isn't quite as potent; it's hard to find such an herb on its own, especially at a club. "Wermut," says the German werewolf. "Wermut! I need three ounces of your strongest wermut wine." Vermouth, being a bastardization of the German word for Wormwood, is an obvious understanding to anybody with bar experience. "Drop the metal catalyst in and stir. Don't- You don't have to disinfect the coins, just drop them into the alcohol." A string of Germanic obscenities rolls forth from the beast's inhuman mouth.
"Place cloths into a bowl, folded once, layered crosswise, and once the bubbles form enough to stick to the sides of the glass, pour the tincture over the cloths in the bowl."
A large ear swivels in place to meet Alice's voice. "Something better. It's not nearly as good as something I could make in my lab, but once it's ready you will have some damp compresses to disinfect and moisture damaged tissues using the strength of awakened alchemical properties." To most medically trained, that wouldn't at all sound 'better' than a well stocked First Aid kit. Of course, staff might present that, too. It's not as if Konrad is able to help create the tincture all that much himself. He won't stop drooling.
Reaching to the auto-injector on his arm -- something that Alice might recall wasnt there before -- Sabrewulf adjusts a valve, grimaces, and his eyes briefly flare up into bright glowing red orbs. "Take it, take it. Take them with you," he growls. "No need for me to scare your patient away."
Felicia slumps against the bar, as Alice leads her out, she's not pulled herself into a stool when she too sniffs at the air--raising a brow.
"Wait... what smells like wet dog--ooh Jesus Christ!!" she starts a little, having not noticed the fucknormous blue werewolf that is just casually sitting at the bar, looking like he's mixing the world's most elaborate mixed drink. Felicia starts violently enough that the wound in her chest starts bleeding again, and the bar tender hands over a first aid kit from behind the bar wth another sigh.
"Hell if he thinks *I* am cleaning that up.." the deer mutters as he steps off, attending to some other task behind the bar, likely in getting all the weird shit Sabrewulf asks for.
"Agh... screw it, give me the worm juice or whatever he said, is he Dutch?" Felicia winces, putting a furred hand on Alice as she needs help getting lifted up onto the stool. "Shit, this really hurts--I think some of the metal got stuck in there..." Felicia winces her eyes shut and mutters through clenched teeth.
Alice flashes Konrad a quick smile as she takes the offered concoction. She could tell by the strong smell that it would at the very least be useful for cleaning and disinfecting the wounds. She opens the first aid kit and takes some absorbent gauze pads in one hand and some of the cloths soaked in Konrad's concoction on the other, and goes about cleaning Felicia's chest wound. It isn't long before she notices the pieces of metal that are indeed still lodged in the wound.
"Just hold still and try to stay calm, take slow, deep breaths for me, ok? This is probably going to be a bit... uncomfortable." She asks as she reaches into her purse and pulls out a rather simple surgical kit, a couple of scalpels and tweezers among other tools which she cleans with an alcohol pad before going at carefully removing the pieces of metal, trying her best not to cause more harm than good.
"Unless of course she follows you here and the stress of seeing me causes her to experience a reopening of her wounds," mutters the werewolf to himself even as the events happen, although it is made clear that there might be remnants of a shattered slug causing tissue damage. That's to say nothing of the effect of such a strong scent of bloody injury being within arms' reach of the beast.
Bracing his clawed hands against the edge of the bar's countertop, his joints seem to tense and relax eratically. Sabrewulf lowers his head while saliva continues to form and drip from his mouth until his large teeth touch against the bartop; he steals a quick stress-releiving bite of the counter's edge not with an intent to damage. Instead, as an effect similar to squeezing a stressball.
"Wet compress. Keep pressure. It -will- sting. It -will- stain. It -won't- remove any metal pieces. You need to do that by hand." As if to add to the effect, the werewolf gestures by touching the tips of two of his large claws together like a pincer. The bar won't have medical forceps, but the First Aid Kit might have tweezers? Ah, indeed, Alice seems to be on that. In fact, any customers around are going to have a bit of a show from all of this, no doubt. "Does she need to lie down first? On the countertop? Somebody have a flashlight? A phone with a bright LED?" Alice has a backseat doctor that growls and drools. Annoying much? Sabrewulf can barely hold himself still.
Felicia could have likely just tanked this wound and shrugged it off--had the shard of the bullets brass jacket not got caught in her. It had remained fairly big and tucked just far enough inside that trying to stick her claw in and fish it out had just resulted in more damage. If it had been smaller, her skin would have just pushed it out as her werecat regeneration took over.
The catwoman hisses as the alcohol burns, but she's grateful for it--especially when she sees the surgical kit come out. Oh boy. Her face a terrible grimace, she does as she's ordered and takes a large, deep breath. It would take more than all that to make her faint, anyway.
Felicia does her best to hold herself up and present the wound in question as Alice works on extracting the brass and copper shrapnel.
"So, I'm Felicia--ow, what's your name? And is that your friend?" Felicia was getting flashacks to the weird nazi dentist from The Running Man for some reason, listening to Konrad speak. Of course, she wasn't great at placing accents or nationalities. She craned her head over to see the huge red glowing eyed werewolf looking right at her. Gulp.
Alice considers Konrad's questions a moment and shakes her head. "A flashlight would be nice, but unless they've got a surgical suction device in the back to help with the blood pooling into the wound it's probably best if she isn't lying down until I've got these metal shards out." She says as she works diligently to remove what remains of the shards of brass. It takes some time but she manages to get them all out and works at cleaning the wound some more, especially around where Felicia had clearly scratched her insides a bit trying to get the shards out on her own. She then puts some pressure bandages on the wound.
"Keep pressure here... Maybe Konrad can help. I'm Alice, not sure I'd say we're friends but I did meet him my first time here and he didn't try to turn me into rabbit stew, so that's a plus." She says with a light laugh as she takes a look at Felicia's shoulder wound, making sure there was no foreign material there as well before cleaning and bandaging it. "You're lucky the bullets missed any vital organs, though I imagine a normal human still might have bled out before you made it here"
Maybe Konrad can help, indeed. His hands are made to be lethal weapons, so all he'd have to do is reach over and hold something in place firmly. Right? His claws first dip into the bowl of activated wormwood and sage. "I see that my quick thinking wasn't as helpful as it could have been." While there is some accent to the way the werewolf talks, a lot is washed out by growly bass. "Now all I have to show for the trouble is an annoyed bartender and a bill." Compression bandaging usually requires some winding about the body without obstruction. Like clothes. The werewolf can help with that. He can be careful...despite the way his body seems to have minute jerking as if dealing with some unseen internal battle.
"That said, Alice here probably has better barside manner. And technique. I would have dug them out by hand and helped accelerate natural healing through activated alchemy. It would have hurt a lot more. Freiherr von Sabrewulf. Not a lot of 'Konrad' to be seen these days. Mostly just...wolf. A wolf that can hunt very very well. Alone. Especially punks with guns." Giving in to the urge to hunt again would sate the wolf, but it would risk losing more of his sense of humanity.
"Augh," it's a relieved sort of sound, like having a hangnail or a splinter removed from one's finger. Felicia makes it sound much more earnest, as relaxes finally after the shards of metal are pulled out. With no metal to ceaselessly cut her, her bleeding stops as the hole narrows.
"Well, there's vital and then there's /vital/. I've never been shot in the heart or head before, I don't think--I did have most of my blood sucked out once, however, /that/ was not fun," Felicia brushes the sweat off her brow and smiles to Alice, grateful for the treatment. She complies with the rabbit nurse's orders, holding the bandage over her chest, wincing a bit more as the strange tincture burns her a little more, her clawed toes grabbing onto the rungs of the stool.
"Ah, Alice--that's a cute name, and uh, thank you--mister Saberwolf?" she isn't quite sure how it's supposed to be pronounced--one word or two? so she's a bit clumsy with the name. "Yeah... I am guessing every cop for a few miles heard that too--which is why I decided to duck in here, didn't expect you two to help me, thank you," she nods.
Alice blinks at the mention of Felicia having nearly all her blood sucked out of her, that does indeed sound like a rather unpleasant way to go, and this cat woman lived to tell the tale. "Well, you're certainly tougher than you look, though I have another feline friend who I could say the same about I guess, just perhaps not to that extreme of a degree... Nice to meet you Felicia, and to have been in the right place at the right time for you. Former ER nurse at Southtown General, guess I got to play EMT and field surgeon today." She says with a slight smile as she turns to Sabrewulf. "Thanks for your help also, nice to see you again."
Speaking of annoying the bartender... "Hirsch-Barkeeper. Eine weitere Sache, bitte. Apfelsaft, danke. Fur Felicia. ...ja, ja. Schoen dich auch wieder zu sehen, Alice." Konrad then proceeds to explain, as kindly as such an appearance might allow and completely in German, that apple juice would help in the natural regeneration of blood that might have been lost, no alchemy required. Unlike whatever the hell that bright green stuff is that's getting slowly fed into his arm. He turns away for the moment with a grunt of excusing himself for a minute and makes some adjustments now that the overpowering scent of blood has lost its newness.
As such a development takes quite a bit of attention and results in more growly jitters, perhaps Alice can explain what the hell was just said to Felicia, although that might include passing the order along to the deer guy that was called a 'hirsch'.
"Yeeeaaah.. best not to ask with that one," Felicia coughs a little at that, as if it was an awkward moment. Speaking of awkward moments--Sabrewulf reaching over to attempt to help apply pressure to the bandage--which would result in Felicia looking down at the huge hands and even bigger claws--which was definitely... unsettling. And she'd been frozen solid by Sasquatch before. Literally turned into an ice sculpture. She very gently motions for Alice to take back over on that. She didn't want the huge werewolf to lose his balance and suddenly her inestines are wriggling about on the floor. Wouldn't exactly be pretty.
"So you two /do/ know eachother... alright, I guess weres stick together around here, huh?" Felicia offered, finally able to flag down a beer from the bartender, which she casually sips at, right from the bottle.
"I think your werewolf is drunk--or is that just him speaking German?" Felicia asides to Alice and tilts her head a little, brushing her hair back behind her. Some of it was matted with blood, she'd need a shower later, clearly.
"He seems like he's... unwell, or I dunno--can dogs get whacked out on catnip too??" she's confused as to just what is wrong with Sabrewulf, apparently.
Alice laughs at the question of Sabrewolf being drunk and shakes her head. "No, that was German, he said apple juice will help with regeneration. I'd say that alcohol would thin your blood and likely make things worse, but considering your apparent fortitude and regeneration, I guess you'll be fine. But now that Felicia mentions it, you do seem different tonight Sabrewolf, and I don't just mean the red eyes. Are you doing ok? Was the blood bothering you or something?"
Full deep breaths.
Sabrewulf turns around slowly with some controlled breathing, eyes closed, before nodding his head. "Ja- Yes, I'm okay. I'm never okay, but I just eased off on my dosage, so the monster is happy and my body doesn't feel like stuff is crawling around underneath my skin as we fight. I have, effectively, let the leash out a little longer." The werewolf exhales before opening his eyes. The glow is there still, persistent, yet not as fierce. Sabrewulf's head turns to look to Alice, then to Felicia, and then -immediately- to Felicia's drink.
He gestures with both arms, nearly whacking Alice in the process, before protesting. "Was ist das?!" Despite all the growliness and muscles, the werewolf suddenly appears to hold the image of a disappointed father. "Nein nein Nein! Felicia, what are you doing? You were shot, ja? You lost blood, just had a couple thousand dollars worth of surgery, ja? Hydrate! Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate first. Then -- THEN -- beer. Apfelsaft, water, whatever; electrolytes and iron."
Sabrewulf flattens his ears and scoffs. "I mean, I get it..."
Log created on 21:08:37 09/18/2022 by Felicia, and last modified on 14:24:44 09/19/2022.