9/23/1998

Harbor Park Meadow(#194RJ)
A gentle dusting of newly planted grass covers the ground. In some areas, the 
  grass is thicker, lush and a deep summer green. The stench of the meadow is 
  gone with the bags and the tools, but the faintly unpleasant smell still 
  wafts up from the river banks. Through the rusted link fence the street is 
  visible, the hedges and vines trimmed back to open the Park to the community 
  outside.
The murky waters of the Columbia River flow swiftly along the east side of the 
  park. Bracketing the park to the west is First Street. The park extends to 
  the north.
Contents:
Arlen
Julie
Casper
Luna-Singer
Brennain
Obvious exits:
Bridge Street  North  First Street  River  

Casper wades in the chilly river, up to his knees. He has his hands in his 
  pockets and he stares down at the water blankly. There's a short gust of 
  wind and his direction changes. He heads for the bank and then the meadow. 
  He gives his legs a shake or two to dislodge some water.
Arlen slows down, calling, "I happen to leave my book there?"

From afar, to the room, Brennain clarifies for Salem. Bren's smoking on the 
  fence, Julie's investigating in the meadow, I think the rest has been posed 
  in your presence.

Julie slowly crouches, leaning slightly from side to side, remaining quiet, 
  and, to her belief, hidden, just watching as she clutches her journal tight 
  to her again.
Brennain reaches into an inner pocket in his jacket, and produces the slim 
  volume. "Yup," he says. "Been watching it for ya, in case ya came back."
Luna-Singer flops down on the ground and yawns widely, tail thumping the 
  ground gently as she watches the dark park.
A male singing voice, a rough, warm tenor, can be heard in the distance to the 
  south, accompanied by a dark, bearded figure. The tune is audible first, 
  something quick and musical and not too modern. Gilbert and Sullivan? The 
  words become clearer. "Ooh, 'tis better far to live and die... under the 
  great black flag I fly... than play a sanctimonious part, with a pirate head 
  and a pirate heart..."
Arlen gives the Fianna a sidelong glance, and then reaches the vampire. 
  "Thanks," she tells him. "Not mine. Hate to lose it."

Salem(#2653Pce)
        Tall and dark, he stands a few inches over six feet, a striking and 
  rather dangerous-looking man in his mid-twenties. Black hair frames hawkish 
  features and a high forehead, the dark eyes deep-set. It's a face 
  tailor-made for brooding and cynicism, and he excels at both moods. He's 
  handsome, albeit in a devilish, saturnine kind of way, but rarely does he 
  seem truly relaxed, and often a sharp and tense hatred seems to rage just 
  beneath the surface of his flesh, a murderous anger held in check by a tight 
  and uncertain control. A black goatee lines his lips and jaw, and a thick 
  scar runs down the left side of his face, just missing the eye. In short, he 
  has the look of the very devil about him, a Lucifer fallen from grace, 
  bitter about his fate and prone to dark moods and unprovoked violence.
        He's dressed entirely in black; the funereal color suits his 
  appearance and often his mood. A clean short-sleeved t-shirt is tucked into 
  a pair of BDU-style military pants. He wears sneakers instead of boots, for 
  whatever reason, and has his shoulder-length hair tied back, leaving only a 
  few loose strands to fall over his forehead and eyes.   <<+details>>

Brennain holds the book to at arms' length to Arlen, and cocks his head as he 
  hears the singing. "You left it by the post there, sugar," Bren drawls, and 
  then winks at the Fury.
Jack Salem pauses his steps, dark eyes peering toward the other figures in the 
  distance. But he doesn't stop singing, voice taking on all the 
  self-confident arrogance that's characteristic of the ex-Ronin, with a touch 
  of glintingly cheerful defiance. "Away to the cheating world go you," he 
  sings. "Where pirates all are well-to-do..." A slight pause where the music 
  would be. "But I'll be true to the song I sing... and li-ive and diiiiie... 
  a pi-rate king!"

[Brennain]
This man of mid-height stands as tall as he can manage, shoulder-length dark 
  hair worn down and loose. His dark eyes make a startling centerpiece for his 
  ruggedly handsome face, his thin lipped mouth spoiling the image just a 
  little. His skin is weathered, and ruddy; it is obviously the complexion of 
  one that spends a lot of time out of doors. Brennain's build could be 
  described as 'athletic' by most, 'impressive' by others.
He wears a tight black t-shirt, the material ripped in places baring his chest 
  to the air. Four narrowly spaced slashes, like those that could be caused by 
  the claws of a wild animal streak down the front of his chest. Around his 
  neck is a thick black leather collar, with a metal nametag and a pair of 
  keys attached to the d-ring. A battered black denim jacket, with the sleeves 
  rolled up, a pair of ripped black jeans and some tatty black boots complete 
  the picture.
Arlen's smile turns a bit chilly. "Why are you naming me after a baking 
  product?" She ignores the singing for now, turning all of her attention to 
  Brennain.
Luna-Singer lifts her muzzle towards the singing, ears perking forward to 
  catch the sound better. Her tail thumps the ground a bit more 
  enthusiastically as she listens.
Julie, hearing the singing, turns her head to seek the source, remaining 
  hidden in a small patch of shadow a distance away from the others. This man 
  she watches, a hint of faint recognition in her eyes, and she glances back 
  towards the wolf, then Arlen, then to the unknown face.

[Luna-Singer]
Pale red fur covers the strong, yet lithe form of this wolf. Yellow-grey eyes 
  gaze around with a touch of laughter and the sparkings of what would be a 
  smile in another form. Delicate paws take sure-footed steps along the paths 
  she walks.
As of this moment, the red fur is matted and dingy, as if she went and rolled 
  in a dumpster. It provides sufficient camoflage to the point that she can 
  easily pass for a dog instead of a wolf.

[Julie]
A thin, young woman, Julie's barely 16. She wanders the streets of St. Claire, 
  living off what others cast off. Her eyes are blue, once bright crystal, now 
  dull and watery. Long, blond hair, haphazardly strung in numerous braids, 
  hangs limp and dirty down her back and shoulders, and in her face. When 
  Julie does stand completely straight, she manages to reach a full 5'2". She 
  is wearing black jeans, a blue 'HardRock Cafe' teeshirt, and neon orange 
  hightops.
"Dunno, Miss. Just something I do," shrugs the leech, noting the new theme to 
  her smile with a little grim satisfaction. "I suppose you don't take too 
  kindly to bein' called nice things, huh princess?"
Arlen's smile grows even chillier. "It would rather depend on what you define 
  as nice, I suspect."
Salem recognizes... well, only one person in the whole park. Arlen. His smile 
  widens a little, cheerful, flashing a bit of tooth as he starts heading 
  toward her; the dark eyes haven't failed to notice the man talking to her. 
  The chorus rolls richly from his vocal chords. "For... I am a pirate king! 
  And it is, it is a glorious thing to be a pirate king! For I am a pirate 
  king! (You are! Hurrah for the pirate king!) And it is, it is a glorious 
  thing to be a pirate king! (It is! Hurrah for the pirate king! Hur-rah for 
  the pi-rate king!)"
Brennain rolls his eyes expressively, and shakes his head with wonder. "Look, 
  lady. I gave you a compliment. I take it back, okay?" He raises his hands in 
  apology, then casts a quick glance over at the approaching Salem. "Hoooboy," 
  he mutters. "Boyfriend."
Casper's head bobs as he looks around. He sees Julie, grins and heads her way 
  at a slow jog.
Julie shifts in her crouch slightly, something about this man not right, 
  strange chills running down her spine. She continues to watch and listen to 
  the exchange, brow furrowing lightly, hearing the slow change in the tone of 
  the conversation. She jerks back slightly, hearing the crunch of footsteps 
  approaching, her attention moving to Casper.
Arlen starts to grin, slowly, at Salem's singing, until she catches Brennain's 
  mutter. "I appreciate the thought, chickie boy, but I just thought I'd warn 
  you, you're getting onto thinner ice."
Luna-Singer continues to lie in a careless sprawl of dingy, dirty fur and 
  watch the goings-on, occasionally lifting a hind foot to scratch at an ear 
  or shoulder.
Casper puts his hand out to pat Julie's shoulder. He looks pleasantly 
  surprised to see her as he scans her features. "Well hello... it's good to 
  see you... out, you know?"
Now it's Brennain's turn to raise his hackles. "Hey, I ain't your chickie boy, 
  'kay? I said I was sorry, now can we leave it at that?" His expression 
  becomes dark, and his face reddens a little.
Julie slowly rises, to allow the hand to remain on her shoulder. Since she's 
  been 'discovered', she makes no attempt at remaining quiet or hidden. "H'lo, 
  Casp'r. Good t' see you too." She smiles lightly to him.
Salem launches into the second verse, taking his time to reach Arlen and 
  Brennain; his strolling manner has the casual arrogance of renegade royalty 
  that fits the song he's singing. "When I sally forth to seek my prey, I help 
  myself in a roy-al way... I sink a few more ships, it's true, than a 
  well-bred monarch ought to do..." His expression sharpens as he notices 
  tension between the Fury and the stranger. "But many a king on a first-class 
  throne, if he wants to call his crown his own... must man-age somehow to get 
  through... more dir-ir-ty work... than e'er... I... do...!" And he's reached 
  the pair. "Why, good evening, Arlen!" he says, mock-brightly. "Who's your 
  new friend?"
Arlen takes a breath, and bites down on her first response. "Certainly, my 
  good sir. I did not mean to cause offense." Giving Salem a faint grin, she 
  says, "Think his name's Brennain. Took care of my book for awhile."
Brennain accepts Arlen's apology, and flicks his cigarette stub into the 
  grass. He gives Salem a mere grunt, then pats his pockets, removing a 
  lighter and pack of Marboro at length.
Salem rakes an eye over Brennain, bearded lips curved into an arrogant smirk. 
  "Nice collar."
Arlen takes the lay of the land, amusement growing.
Luna-Singer yawns widely again and clambers to her feet, casting a slow look 
  around before trotting over to Casper and Julie with a wag of her tail.
Brennain juts out his jaw, lights a fresh cigarette, and takes another drag. 
  After blowing a stream of smoke in Salem's direction, he says, "Thanks," in 
  the most sarcastic manner imaginable.
Casper takes a step back from Julie and asks, "So how are you... how's school 
  and all that?"
Oh, well, why waste time and energy with dilly-dallying? Salem's clearly 
  feeling his oats. Or his testosterone, which generally amounts to the same 
  thing. Smile freezing, the Ahroun steps forward into Brennain's personal 
  space. "I haven't seen you around before. But I suspect you've been busy at 
  the Y, waiting for little boys to drop their soap."
Julie blinks at the word -school-, then snorts. "I don' go t' school." She 
  then smiles down at the wolf. "H'lo." She leans a bit to scritch at the 
  mud-flecked ruff around Luna's neck, peering up at Casper. "Bu' Ang'lo's 
  been teachin' me a few things here an' there."
Arlen murmurs, in Salem's general direction, "Blunt today, are we?" Backing up 
  a foot or two, she adds, looking rather tired, "Think this is my cue to 
  plead for sanity. Consider it pled."
Brennain fixes Salem with an icy stare. "Why, you lookin' for someone to give 
  you a reach-around, chum?" His hand clench into fists, convulsively.
Casper spots the muddied wolf and starts to speak to her, but he puts the 
  brakes on his tongue and just bends down to scritch her flank. Looking up at 
  Julie, he nods, "Oh well... that's what I meant, yes. Good, good. Are you 
  feeling more happy?"
Salem's smile stretches into a Kzin-like grin, sharp and unpleasant. "Oh, no. 
  You just look like the type who enjoys sucking dick." He makes a grab for 
  Brennain's collar.
Arlen murmurs, "Ah, deeds, not words," and backs up a bit further, although 
  she's keeping a rather sharp interest in the proceedings - sharper than most 
  people would.
Luna-Singer leans into the scritches, muzzle splitting in a canine grin as her 
  tail wags. She keeps her attention on Julie and Casper for now.
Julie flicks a glance over towards the trio, even she is able to sense the 
  tension, and she pales, seeing Salem grab at Brennain, and she straightens. 
  "Uh...h..happy, uh huh. Yeah." Her hand trembles as she pulls it away from 
  Luna, taking a step back and clenching her journal tight to her chest again. 
  "Th...this ain' righ'," she manages to whisper out.
Casper blinks and scratches his chin, back to the potential brawlers. He tilts 
  his head and says to Julie, "Not right? There's nothing wrong with being 
  happy..." Casper's powers of perception seem to have failed him.
Quick as a flash, but not /supernaturally/ fast, Bren jerks to one side, 
  ducking his head and attempting to go into a roll. He doesn't say a ward, 
  cold, quiet killer persona blotting out all feelings of anger and annoyance 
  to keep his head screwed on the right way. And on top of his shoulders...
Luna-Singer turns slightly and looks back to the trio, ears laying back 
  slightly at the obvious confrontation there. Picking up on Julie's 
  discomfort, she leans comfortingly against the girl's leg and watches.
Julie Her trembling is more visible now, and Luna can feel it. She glances 
  nervously and fearfully between Luna and Casper before looking over his 
  shoulder at the scene developing. "Th...there." Julie points a shaking 
  finger over towards the two men.
Arlen sticks both hands in her pockets and watches, somewhat clinically.
Salem chuckles nastily and drops into a slight crouch, spreading his arms as 
  though to invite the other man to strike him. "Come on, pillow-biter," he 
  taunts. "Don't you like it rough?"
Casper wheels about unsteadily on his heel, and takes a long survey of the 
  action. He distractedly mumbles to Julie, "Ah, oh, don't worry now... okay?" 
  he reaches blindly to pat her on his shoulder and misses completely.
Snarling, the City Gangrel assumes a fighting stance, facing Salem. "Pillow 
  biter, is it? Yeah, and what of it? I saw you down the club the other night, 
  givin' the kids the eye." He shakes his head from side to side, again 
  disturbing the collar. "So," he growls. "You wanna go? Just you and me? In 
  front of the /ladies/?"
And fear isn't something good for Julie, as it seems to compound over seconds, 
  and when she's scared, she gets angry with herself, and that only adds fuel 
  to the fire. Whimpering softly, she takes a step back, wide eyes staring 
  through dirty blonde braids at the altercation working towards a brawl, 
  filling with panic.
Luna-Singer curls protectively around Julie as best she can, trying to 
  reassure the girl with her presence while watching to see where the fight 
  goes. She bristles slightly and tries to look more imposing to keep the 
  fight away from Julie.
"You fudge-packing, limp-wristed, skinny-dicked boyfucker." Salem drawls out 
  the insults as though savoring each one and drawing confidence from the 
  other's beligerance. He seems to have no doubts about the outcome of the 
  brawl. "Come on. I'll give you first hit." Another sharp grin. "It'll be the 
  only one you get."
Arlen breaks her attention from the fight for long enough to glance sharply at 
  Julie. Giving another glance to the two combatants, she begins to move 
  toward Casper. "She want to stay here?"
Arlen's words bring Casper a little closer to reality and he turns back to 
  Julie, keeping himself in front of her. "Julie... let's go home."
Brennain snorts at the Ronin-turned-Walker's words, and grits his teeth. "I'll 
  give you limp wristed, you jumped up son-of-a-bitch!" The Gangrel's fist 
  snaps forward, with a full force strike, straight at Salem's jaw. He 
  obviously has no doubts either, but want to get the job done fast.
Legs for the most part pinned by the bulk of the wolf, Julie doesn't go 
  anywhere backwards, but instead crouches, slipping an arm around Luna and 
  burying her face in the muddy fur. She still watches, eyes wide, peering 
  over the wolf's back, shaking her head at Casper's words, clutching tight at 
  the first throw of fists.
Arlen raises an eyebrow at the Fianna, and asks the young Gnawer, "Why on 
  earth not? This isn't something you're enjoying, after all."
Salem moves quickly, intending to avoid the fist of course, and snaps out with 
  one of his own at Brennain's midsection.
Luna-Singer noses Julie gently and makes to move out of the park, hoping Julie 
  will at least follow her.
Casper murmurs quickly, "Julie... that's an order, from elder to cub... 
  please..."
Julie's voice is muffled by thick fur. "C...can' move." She's shaking terribly 
  now, still clutching tight to Luna. Tears slip free of wide, terror-filled 
  eyes, her gaze locked on the combatants.
Eamon picks his way down the park, coming from the north.
Eamon has arrived.
Casper sighs and physically tries to turn Julie to face the opposite 
  direction. "Come on..."
Luna-Singer noses Julie again and tries to move under the girl, trying to coax 
  the girl onto her back if possible.
Arlen keeps one eye on the fight and one eye on Julie's reaction, willing to 
  help if necessary.
Julie, getting pulled and nudged, loses her balance and falls onto her rump. 
  This does help break the panic-filled gaze from the fight briefly, and Julie 
  looks around wildly, panting, she's close...too close::
Eamon strolls down into the park meadow and approaches the group of people 
  mulling about there. He yawns and stretches, then takes a metal flask from 
  his jacket pocket and after glancing around to make sure no cops are around, 
  unscrews the top and takes a swig. He returns the flask to his jacket.
Eamon continues strolling over to Arlen, whom he grins at. "Hey there, what's 
  up?"
Arlen glances at Eamon and raises an eyebrow. "Feel free to watch the 
  exhibition boxing tournament over there," she says, jerking her head at 
  Salem and Bren. Turning her attention back to Julie, she crouches down and 
  lays a hand on her shoulder. "C'mon, kidduo, pull it together."
Brennain surprises everyone, most notably Salem himself, when his fist 
  actually connects with the Garou's jaw and sends him to one knee. The crunch 
  of bone isn't audible to anyone but the combatants, but the spray of blood 
  that erupts from the Glass Walker's mouth is all-too-obvious. Salem's own 
  fist barely slaps the vampire, knocked back as he is by the force of the 
  punch.
Luna-Singer backs up from Julie a bit, giving the girl room to breathe and try 
  to sort herself out. She lets Arlen have a try at getting Julie together, 
  sitting back and waiting.
Julie hisses at the touch, her gaze snapping to Arlen, then a glint of 
  recognition, and she leans away, regret at the hiss glinting in her eyes. 
  She then nods, and, swallowing hard, struggles to her feet, reaching for 
  something to steady against.
Eamon grins wider. "A scrap, eh? Cool." He looks over at the combatants, 
  recognizing Salem. He mutters to Arlen, "Oh, Christ. Better call an 
  ambulance. No, better yet, call a coroner. Who's the other guy?"
Eamon blinks at the first punch. "Whoah."
Luna-Singer moves up quickly, providing herself as something for Julie to 
  steady herself against.
Arlen provides an arm as well, telling Eamon rather distractedly, "Someone 
  named Brennain. Rather random."
Brennain smiles in grim satisfaction as he feels Salem's jaw crack beneath his 
  fist. He takes a step backward, fists still raised, and looks at the 
  crouching Garou. "Hey. You said first punch, cock-sucker." The Gangrel 
  chuckles to himself, and waits for his opponent to stand. "C'mon, then. 
  Unless you think you're beaten..."
Thin fingers of one hand burrow into the thick fur at the nape of Luna's neck, 
  hushed whines in the back of her throat as she tries to calm, her gaze 
  shifting to Arlen as she reaches with the other, the ever-present journal 
  clutched tightly in that hand. "Don'..wanna...scared, control...slipping." 
  Tears continue to stream down dusty cheeks, leaving trails, her words barely 
  passing between gasps for air.
Luna-Singer stands calmly as Julie gets to her feet, not moving until the girl 
  is ready to.
Salem's humor is gone, shattered like his jaw (not to mention several of his 
  teeth). A bubbly, bloody growl dribbles from his throat as the Glass Walker 
  picks himself up, the dark eyes flashing as the rage wakes up and snarls. In 
  a sudden, supernatural flash of speed, the Ahroun lunges forward, fists 
  flying.
Arlen murmurs, "I know," and starts, glancing at Luna-Singer to coordinate 
  timing, trying to help Julie towards an exit, tone sympathetic.
Eamon smirks at the fight, then looks down at Julie.
Luna-Singer takes the cue and pads forward slowly, making certain that Julie's 
  hand never leaves her ruff.
Brennain sidesteps with the practiced ease of a fist fighter. He ducks and 
  weaves, trying to avoid Salem's own punches, before going for a quick 
  snapped one-two to the face.
Julie closes her eyes tight, to avoid looking over at the fight. "Stop i', 
  stop i', stop it!" The shrillness of her voice, and the shaking of her body 
  rises, barely able to walk, getting tugged slowly along by the two other 
  women.
Eamon keeps one eye on Julie and another on the fight. "Now somethin' just 
  ain't right here," he mutters.
The exchange suddenly departs the realm of normalcy as the two exchange blows 
  quicker than professional boxers could. Some of Salem's blows land, others 
  do not, as the stranger twists and weaves in a semi-successful attempt to 
  keep from being hit. One punch manages to draw blood from the corner of 
  Brennain's mouth, but it doesn't seem to slow him down. The vampire's fists 
  lash out, a quick one-two that would have put Salem down. The ahroun 
  deflects one of the blows, but the other catches him in the side of the head 
  and sends him reeling.
Luna-Singer lays her ears back slightly and continues moving forward to get 
  Julie out of here.
Arlen murmurs, quietly, "You can only stop them if you are in control of 
  yourself, as well," and keeps moving forward, slowly.
Salem staggers backwards for several steps, shaking his head roughly. He stops 
  and stares at Brennain, stares very hard at the stranger who's hardly 
  touched, while he, the experienced Ahroun, is close to toppling. His chest 
  heaves as he sucks in air through flared nostrils and broken jaw, his fists 
  still clenched.
Julie suddenly yanks away from Arlen, backing away abruptly. Her journal falls 
  from her hand as both hands fly to her ears to shut out the sounds of the 
  fight behind them. "Make'em stop!" she screams, falling to her knees.
Brennain rolls his head around, the vertebre cracking audibly, with his eyes 
  fixed on Salem's. "Still hungry for it? I can give you more." He stands 
  calmly, feet apart, ready to launch another volley of pain if the Ahroun 
  wishes it so.
Eamon glances over at Julie and mutters, "Somebody wanna get her outta here?"
Arlen manages to quell most of her irritation, crouching down and whispering, 
  "C'mon, Julie, you can do this. Just a little more walking and we'll be out 
  of here." The easier option of just stopping the fight apparently doesn't 
  cross her mind.
Salem returns the stare with narrowed eyes, cautious now, like a wolf brought 
  to bay. His pain is obvious, rasping in his breath. He spits out a mouthful 
  of blood and broken tooth and growls out a slurred, partially intelligable, 
  "Who are you?" This close to defeat, but the Ahroun's pained words hold a 
  note of challenge.
Eamon takes a few steps closer to Brennain and Salem. "Yeah, what's your name, 
  boss?"
A gutteral shout rips from Julie's throat, and she pushes Arlen away as she 
  scrambles to her feet, turning to look at the pair in a stand-off. She just 
  yells at them, at the top of her lungs and she stumbles towards them. 
  "Cuttit ou'! Jus' cuz o' some names! Kindygar'ners, tha's all you are!"
"Your new boyfriend, punk!" Bren replies, his own voice almost as much as a 
  growl as Salem's. "Kiss my fuckin' boots, dog, and I'll let you go free." He 
  just ignores Eamon totally, and focuses on the bloodied Ahroun before him, 
  face a mask of cold, calculated malice.
Salem spits out another mouthful of blood, shattered face twisting into an 
  uglier snarl. "O'er my corpse, y'bleeding asscrack."
Arlen growls low in her throat with irritation reaching toward anger, and 
  moves smoothly onto her feet, laying her hand on Julie's shoulder firmly. 
  "Julie. We're leaving. Right now." It's not a particularly negotiable demand.
Eamon starts to chuckle quietly.
Julie, not listening, shrugs the hand off her shoulder, aiding its removal 
  with a hard shove of her hand, fury set deep in her eyes. "Dammit, you two, 
  cu' i' ou'! An' you!" Julie points to Eamon last, "Yer no' helpin'!" She's 
  approaching as if to literally shove the two men apart.
The corner of Brennain's mouth curls up in a half grin, half smile as he takes 
  a careful step forward. "I /said/ kiss my boots, asshole. And I /meant/ it!" 
  He lashes out with his booted foot at Salem's face, with a seeming lack of 
  concern for whether the blow lands or not.
Eamon grabs for Julie before she gets to Brennain and Salem. "Hold up there, 
  little lady. He's a big boy, he can take care of himself."
Arlen, at this rebuff, also grabs for Julie, arm going around her waist. "No. 
  You're coming with us," she tells her, finally actually cooperating with 
  Eamon.
Salem, rather than simply dodge, drops toward the ground in an attempt to 
  avoid the kick, and then lunges for Brennain's legs in a full-out tackle.
Orpheus picks his way down the park, coming from the north.
Orpheus has arrived.
Julie shrieks, kicking and struggling. She scratches wildly at Arlen and 
  Eamon, trying to break free. She looks more like a rat caught between two 
  cats than a garou homid.
Eamon grumbles, "Oh shite." He takes hold of Julie and helps Arlen drag her 
  away. Unfortunately, he's only got the one hand, so that's about all he can 
  do.
Orpheus wanders into the area, looking like the sounds of a shreiking woman 
  have drawn him. He stops at the edge of the meadow, and seems content to 
  watch for the moment.
The sounds of the shrieking woman have drawn more than just Orpheus, in fact. 
  A few people begin to wander toward the scene, one pointing at Salem and 
  Brennain.
The vampire is caught squarely by the Ahroun's dive, and falls to the floor 
  beneath him. Struggling violently, Brennain attempts to drive his fists into 
  Salem's body, oblivious to any attempts made on the Garou's part to harm 
  him, for now.
Salem, his bloody, battered face twisted into a rictus, pulls himself upward 
  along Brennain's body and slams an elbow down toward his opponent's crotch.
Orpheus trots quickly over to Arlen, and this frightened woman. He tries to 
  get himslef between the two fighters and those leaving.
Eamon wraps his good arm around Julie, who is struggling and flipping out as 
  Salem and Brennain fight. "Knock it off, kid," he yells, then looks around 
  as the fight draws attention. "Oh, for fuck's sake," he mutters. "Jack, time 
  to go!"
Julie continues to struggle, though her voice has fallen silent now, thin 
  fingers suprisingly dexterous, as she fights to pull arms free of her.
Orpheus grabs another shoulder of the young woman and aids Arlen in getting 
  her clear.
Eamon looks around and sees Orpheus while still helping Arlen hold Julie. 
  "Hey, uh, dude! Oh, okay, thanks."
Brennain twists his body, attempting to clamp his hands on either side of 
  Salem's head, angling his thumbs daggerlike at the Ahroun's eyes. He ignores 
  the threat of the elbow to the groin, and tries to blind his opponent 
  instead.
Julie's struggles do seem to grow weaker, more just desperate slaps and feeble 
  kicks, and her breath is growing ragged.
Salem drives his elbow into Brennain's groin, unrestrained. The vampire sits 
  up halfway from the pain of the hit, losing most of his strength in the 
  process. It takes little strength to puncture an eye, however, and his 
  clothes are suddenly stained as the ahroun begins to bleed from ruptured 
  sockets.
Straw. Camel. Back. Break. With a yell that rapidly plunges in octave even as 
  it spikes in volume, Salem's rage snaps free; the Ahroun's body all but 
  explodes into a massive bundle of froth and fur, slashing claws and snapping 
  teeth, raging blindly at the form beneath him.
Salem contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
You shift into Crinos form.
Orpheus curses loudly, and makes sure his body blocks Julie's sight. "We're 
  here to help you, now will you SHUT UP and STOP STRUGGLING!" He tries to 
  rush Julie away.
Eamon looks at Orpheus as Julie's struggles weaken. "Get her out of here." He 
  lets go of her and heads back toward Salem and Brennain, but stops in his 
  tracks as Salem shifts. "Oh, fuck me."
Julie stumbles, getting pretty much shoved in Orph's direction, screaming at 
  him and raising a hand to slap across his face at his screaming at her.
The few humans who had started to gather suddenly scream, run, and display the 
  usual signs of folks under the Delirium. For anyone looking, no one seems to 
  be unaffacted. One good thing this evening.
Red washes over Brennain's sight. Red, like the blood upon the crinos garou's 
  fur. The blood he craves. With feral howl, Brennain tries to twist out from 
  under the bulk of the crinos, moving with unnatural speed and agility as he 
  attempts to escape while clawing, biting and gouging at the monster 
  attacking him.

Dark One's Desc:
        The creature stands over nine feet tall, a monsterous hybrid of wolf 
  and man not often seen outside of nightmares and movie screens. Except for 
  an indistinct, irregular patch of medium gray on his chest, the thick pelt 
  is almost entirely black, covering the werewolf from lupine head to 
  digitigrade legs. Feral golden eyes, deep-set, glare from underneath the 
  wolfish brow, partially obscured by the shaggy black mane that tumbles 
  around the upright ears and long neck. Broad of shoulder and long of limb, 
  he appears able to move about as easily on two legs as on four, though he 
  seems to prefer the former. Long fingers and large hindpaws are equally 
  armed with evil-looking black claws, and when he snarls, the sharp white 
  teeth all but gleam against the midnight background of ebony fur. To Garou 
  eyes, he has the look of nobility, and it's clear that Shadow Lord blood 
  runs strongly through his veins.
        Rarely at rest, the werewolf's motions bristle with overwhelming rage, 
  violence held only barely in check. A thick scar runs down the left side of 
  the Garou's face, a battlescar that just misses the eye. Another scar is 
  visible on his back, right shoulderblade - the Honor glyph, slashed through 
  diagonally, a mark of shame.  <<+details>>

Brennain's Desc:
This man of mid-height stands as tall as he can manage, shoulder-length dark 
  hair worn down and loose. His dark eyes make a startling centerpiece for his 
  ruggedly handsome face, his thin lipped mouth spoiling the image just a 
  little. His skin is weathered, and ruddy; it is obviously the complexion of 
  one that spends a lot of time out of doors. Brennain's build could be 
  described as 'athletic' by most, 'impressive' by others.
He wears a tight black t-shirt, the material ripped in places baring his chest 
  to the air. Four narrowly spaced slashes, like those that could be caused by 
  the claws of a wild animal streak down the front of his chest. Around his 
  neck is a thick black leather collar, with a metal nametag and a pair of 
  keys attached to the d-ring. A battered black denim jacket, with the sleeves 
  rolled up, a pair of ripped black jeans and some tatty black boots complete 
  the picture.

Orpheus grabs the upraised hand in an MP grip, and whips it down and around. 
  He seems to become larger, more imposing, as the pressure on Julie's arm 
  becomes enough to either make her turn or snap at the wrist. "Hades take 
  you, MOVE!"
Orpheus contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Orpheus shifts into Glabro form.
Julie cries out in pain, but, not one to back down once she's gone wild, and 
  she fights against him still. "Lemme go!" she shrieks.
Eamon pauses, not quite sure whether to try and haul Salem away or to avoid 
  getting sliced and diced himself.
Eamon snarls. "Ah, fuck it." He begins to shift to crinos.
The fight is over terrifyingly quickly. The frenzied crinos rips into the 
  smaller vampire, tearing the latter's flesh wide open. Blood spills from the 
  wounds, but far less blood than one would expect. Brennain strikes back, a 
  claw to the blind Garou's throat that tears it out entirely. As Salem's 
  lifeblood begins to pour out, the ahroun gives a blood-curling screech that 
  would have sent anyone running, were anyone still around to witness it. The 
  wound, miraculously, begins to heal itself over, and the ahroun continues to 
  shred his target. Brennain moves almost as quickly as the Garou, however, 
  and it soon becomes obvious both of them are frenzied. In seconds, Salem 
  reverts to his breed form, his body a mangled, bloody mess. Brennain is 
  broken as well, one of his arms dangling uslessly and his chest split open.
Arlen grabs Julie's legs off the ground and holds them in tight. "Move it boy!"
Dark One contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
You shift into Homid form.
Orpheus wraps one large hand around Julie's throat, cutting off air and blood. 
  He and Arlen hustle Julie off.
Eamon stops in mid-shift and remains at glabro, his voice dropping an octave. 
  "Christ. I guess I'm on cleanup detail." He bends over to pick up what's 
  left of Brennain.
Orpheus and Arlen hustle Julie out of the area, Orpheus maintaining a strangle 
  hold until Julie passes out.
Eamon contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Eamon grins wider and sharper as he shifts into Glabro form.
Salem is down and very much out for the count. He is, amazingly, still alive. 
  Barely.
Julie slaps weakly at Orph's arm, shuddering as everything goes black.
Ever-Grinning pauses as Brennain's arm slashes at him. "Okay, fuck that, 
  then." He decides to just take care of Salem. He picks up the Walker's inert 
  form with some difficulty, having just the one hand, then looks around for 
  somewhere to reach across.
Brennain looks down at the severely wounded garou, then at the one coming 
  towards him at full health. Not being one to take /too/ many chances, he 
  turns and flees from the scene, outline blurring slightly as he does so. 
  He's fast. Too fast. Shockingly so, even. The uses of some unnatural power 
  is obvious as the vampire flits away, into the city.
Ever-Grinning looks over just in time to see the vampire fleeing. "I know 
  where you live, asshole!"
Sirens in the distance.

[Eamon gets the near-dead Salem outta there.]