It is a chilly day, damp and cold, but it is also a full moon, and Vermonters are intrepid souls...and teenagers are biologically predisposed toward having poor judgement because that section of their physiology isn't properly developed until they reach a higher age.
There are many boaters out on the lake, enjoying the sun and paddling about, with a few brave, foolish souls even daring to water ski or go tubing, with much laughter and shivering included, and while it is no longer the -best- time for fishing, there are still small groups out on trawlers hoping to find a catch.
Here on the shore, however, there are families. Happy families, less happy families, wealthy families squabbling over when to have the hired help come and prepare their pipes for the inevitable winter chill while they move back down to their winter housing in the south of Florida. After hurricane season has passed, of course, and after they are sure the property values don't need to be reassessed. Oh, honey, but what about the children's schooling...
One child, a young girl of perhaps eleven or twelve, sits at the end of a long dock, the longest of them all here in her corner of the lake. She has a net on a long pole, quite sturdy, and occasionally, she even catches a fish, albeit largely by accident.
This time, what she catches is not a fish.
This time, the screaming starts, high and shrill and fearful, echoing out in thinner ripples over the lake, and beneath it all is the bone-deep thrumming of the 'falls across the water, three miles away, white mist rising into the sky.
The full moon, and the first full day of Autumn. It's bound to be one of the favorite days of any witch, enough so that Avalon's taken it fully off, left her cafe in the capable hands of someone else. The chill in the air has her wearing a long duster of black lace over a sleeveless and long black dress. Sandals dangle from her fingertips, and she reaches down to lift the hem of her dress just enough so that it doesn't get wet as she wades ankle-deep into the water. "Refreshing," she offers cheerfully back to Vo, flashing a bright smile to the man that she's dragged away from one body of water to another. He's been left carrying their picnic basket, too, poor man. It's all going so well! And then, the screaming starts. Always the screaming. It's a herd thing, that has her own heartbeat increase, her own fear spike at the sound.
Fall Equinox being blessed by a full moon makes it the perfect day to come out and gather things. Charlie's got a knife of knapped obsidian with a leather wrapped grip - an athame, really. The omens of the runes are mixed, but it's a good time to get away from the warehouse. A handwoven basket is strapped to her back, and she's got a fair collection of whole dandelions, usnea lichen, plaintain and some late berries along with other random bits and bobs that she's wandered across.
When the screaming starts, she tries to ignore it, but it's got that quality to it, that sharp edge, that means it isn't just playing kids roughhousing in the water. "... should have stayed in bed." she mutters before starting to run in the direction of the shrieks.
Walter is here for the same reason as the little girl. Instead of a pile or net he jist has a spool of heavy fishing line with a small leather pouch of tackle and a paper bag with grubs he found earlier. Maybe he can get a hearty meal whipe relaxing a bit. A bunch of spots of the shore are tried with no luck and he makes his way towards the docks. Being out in the water he might het lucky if the fish are not completely spooked. Relax? Oh no. When the screaming starts he picks up his pace, moving quickly towards the source.
Fear in the air, much like blood in the water does get Vo's attention. The tall skinny man dropping the basket without a word as he begins to skulk towards the sound with long strides. Squinting out towards the source of it.
Double date time!
Okay, so Charlie and Walter aren't dating, but still.
Out on the end of the dock, the little girl is struggling with something dark, glossy and very much alive, with far too many limbs. It almost looks like an octopus, or some bizarre version of a ray, or skate, with tentacles instead of a tail.
And teeth.
Did we mention the teeth?
It has them. Lots of them. Thankfully, they are fairly small, but the little girl is bleeding on the dock from several small bites, and the tentacles are keeping her legs together so she can't get away.
Others are responding to the screams, though no one seems to be claiming the child just yet. An older woman yells, "I'll get Animal Control!" and rushes off toward one of the parking lots, presumably to contact them somehow. She doesn't whip out a phone, so maybe it's in the car?
The dock is starting to get more crowded, but there is room to push through. It is about twenty yards long.
So much for that lunch Avalon took care in packing. Sigh. Her shorter legs mean that she needs to speed walk to keep up with Vo, and despite every instinct that says she should stay away from whatever's causing the pre-teen to scream, she goes towards it. And pauses, just slightly, when she can see those tentacles. Thankfully, she's too far away to count the teeth. Even moreso, she's pretty sure that Vo has more, longer ones. "Friend of yours?," she murmurs to the tall man, craning her head to look up at him briefly. Abandoning her sandals, a few feet away from where her basket was left.
Charlie does the... smart thing. Not really. The smart is a lie. She does the thing she has to do. She shoves through the people and rushes towards the girl, reciting the names of everything she knows of that has tentacles and teeth. "Squid? Octopus? C'thulu? Spider? Shoggoth? Crom Cruach?" Each dismissed. It helps keep her moving forward instead of freezing - the mind in motion, searching her collection of knowledge, helps keep her feet going. Course, the only weapon she has is that little obsidian blade she uses for harvesting herbs.
"No." Is all Vo offers as he too makes his way through the crowd, a push there and a shove here. Any complaints met only with a blank look. Curious though, for the strange creature slowly trying to eat the girl. A faint tilt of his head as he approaches slower than the runners.
Walter pushes his way through the crowd towards the girl. Carefull not to shove people into the water. Could be more or it could be a baby or this could even be just the tip of the beast. "It is an octopus." It's all he can come up with. "Stay out of the water and someone get a rope." He motions towards any boats that can be seen. "And one of those big hooks on a pole for fishes if there is one!"
The little girl is still screaming, in pain as well as fear, now, and struggles fiercely with the creature.
In size, it seems to be about as large as...well, okay. The BODY is about as large as a patio planter, but mostly flat, with a number of tentacles between three and seventeen. Possibly twenty. They're long, and slimy, and they keep squirming around, and with the girl thrashing around over the dock, it's a bit difficult to make an accurate count.
The little girl screams again, sobbing, "Mooommmyyyy!!" and tries to kick and beat at the creature slowly constricting its limbs over her legs.
Avalon is weaponless, and doesn't seem to be the type to go wrestling octopods. Trying to count the tentacles, and giving up in short order. She's not running, but she is moving closer. Keeping an eye out for those things that Walter suggests people bring for him, while also glancing over at Vo from time to time. "I've...never seen anything quite like that," she murmurs. Rope can't be -that- hard to find on a dock, right?
Charlie can't risk burning the girl, or stabbing her. Nothing is ever so simple as 'burn it with fire' sounds like it should be. Stuffing the knife in it's little sheath, she takes a breath and makes an unhappy grunty-grumble as she hits the dock on her knees next to the girl and starts trying to pry the tentacles off the girl, but it's slimy and her hands slip and, let's be honest, she is NOT a fighter. But she puts everything she has into it.
"Damn it, Charlie. Get out of the way!" Walter gets shoved through the crowd and also pushes past her to grab out at the creature. Tentacles wriggle and are slippery. One, two, three, more grabe until he eventaully gets a good hold on it. Tentacles are pulled and unraveled from the girl and he ends up with a tentacle in each hand while doing all he can to keep from being entangld himself. "Get the girl away!"
"We really have to stop meeting like this," Avalon asides, as she finally gets close enough to be of any sort of help. She comes up behind the girl, barefeet avoiding thrashing tentacles, and hooks her under the armpits. Dragging her backwards, quickly but not recklessly. The last thing she wants to do, here, is trip over her own damned feet. "EVERYBODY off the damned dock!"
While the little girl, bleeding and bruised but otherwise okay -- beyond, you know, the trauma of being ATTACKED BY A WEIRD MONSTER FROM THE LAKE -- is dragged off, the creature tries to snag Avalon's arm, but fails, and focuses its efforts on Walter.
Those efforts, seeing as the man just bested its strength, are aimed on getting -away-.
...That would be why, after a convulsion of the creature's body and a hot squirt of fluid from an orifice low on its flattened belly, it suddenly looks like Walter just wet himself, assuming Walter-pee is black and goopy-oozy and smelly .. really smelly, like, garum rotting fish paste smelly .. aaaand acidic.
Really acidic.
The scent of burning t-shirt cotton, too, joins the delightful aroma of acid-burning Walter-flesh, no doubt different to those who can see miens than those who can't. The Wyrd is thorough that way. Also, it HURTS. A LOT.
Soooooo. How thick are those jeans, again? And how long will it be before the bait and tackle gets crispy?
Speaking of crispy. "Hold the thing still!" But there's probably too many arms for it to be held still. Ever. Finding a still-ish spot to focus, Charlie starts to get the heat coming in and a bit of flailing makes the beastie move and, whoops!, the goes the denim, lit up like a christmas tree three weeks after christmas when it's all dry and brittle and shedding needles on everything. "I said -still-!" Like it's HIS fault she just set his britches on fire.
Girl safe? Check. Creature controlled to be dispatched? Check. All is giong well for Walter....until if spews acid on him. Can't let it get away and attack more people. At first it's not so bad. DIscomfort as it eats through his clothes an dhe coughs at the fumes. Then it starts to really get at his skin. It's not 'bad'. Yet. But it feels like it is. He grits' his teeth at the pain. Hard enough that anyone close might hear them grinding. "Charlie, get your knife or..do the thing..." THe smell of smoke is a good sigh. No. No it's not at all. THe wrong thing entirely is on fire. No longer to grit his teeth though it, he calls out with a pained voice. "I am fucking trying to hold it still! It is all...wiggly!" While eyeing the so dangerous and at this point inviting water.
Avalon? She's just trying to get the pre-teen girl out of harm's way. Careful of any open wounds, she continues to drag her down the dock, away from things like acid-spewing lake creatures and ...flaming pants. That definitely doesn't look good. But surely the two can handle themselves. The witch looks around for anyone in a respectable uniform, as she continues to urge people to move off of the dock.
"Oh my god!! That thing lit that man's pants on fire!!!" squeals a teenaged girl from farther down the dock.
"Like, no way, Sally. It was the witch! Haven't you, like, seen her in that tea shop up in loony falls?" replies another girl, scornful and deliciously appalled by the Drama occurring right before their very eyes.
Sally, the first girl, scoffs. "Puh-LEEZ. Don't tell me you BelIEVE in all that magic stuff. I bet it -- ohmygod, did that guy pee his pants?? Look, look! Juudyyyy! Ha!" The girl jumps up and down, squealing with the cruel glee of the bored, wealthy, attractive teenage cheerleader she sure looks like she is. "Like, take 'em off, dude!"
The teens blatantly ignore Avalon, and, as the witch can see, some of the local paramedics are already sprinting toward the dock. One advantage to having so many ruddy summer camps around the place: a lot of people are trained EMTs.
The creature, meanwhile, is frantic to get away. First, its nice tasty food fought back a lot. Then, it got molested by this weird woman. THEN it got grabbed by a giant dude who wouldn't let go, and NOW it's being toasted from below? After voiding its you-don't-want-to-know-what to discourage its captivity, it struggles, writhes and wriggles until finally, it can flop free, landing on the dock with a rubbery-wet *SPLACK!* and ooze-slithering rapidly over the edge to swim, swim, swim toward the deeper water.
The water on the sides of the dock, this far out, is a good 15 feet deep.
The surface of the dock, meanwhile, begins to stink and burn from the lingering acid which was on the creature's skin.
Walter tries. A lot. His hands grasp frantically at the creature and he even calls on his contract with Stone to make himself stronger. But he's ultimately too distracted. Burning from fire and acid on his neather regions makes it HARD to concentrate. "Damn it!" He chases after the thing as it get's free, trying one last time to get ahold beore it's in the water. How deep is it? Too deep. There must be another option. And then there is again Charlie.... His arms windill after being pushed, tying futily to regain his balance. "I can not..." It's cut off by the splash and him going under the water. Arms and legs flailing about as he sinks, trying to find a piece of the dock to grab onto.
Oh, good. There's an EMT. There's no verbal response from the witch, when she's accused of being a fire-starter. But she does wiggle her nose, and fingers, in the direction of the two girls. Meaningless gestures, to the knowledgeable. But to others? This is the White Witch of Tamarack Falls. What =is= she up to, now?
"She got bit by... something at least partially aquatic. With tentacles. I don't know what it was, but I'm no marine biologist," Avalon offers, as she continues the dragging, and then places the girl down at the feet of some poor EMT. "She doesn't seem too bad off, all things considering. I mean, look at him." A gesture towards Walter. Hopefully, the big guy is a big enough distraction to allow her to slip away. And find her sandals. And Vo.
Avalon is escaping! Probably the smart thing to do. Charlie's looking over the edge of the dock, waiting for Walter to bob back up, crotch less burny. But there is no quick bob. Ignoring the EMTs and the chaos on /that/ end of the dock, she starts counting in her head as she waits for Walter to resurface.
The EMTs do their best to soothe the girl and get her name, her mother's name, where they live, as a way to distract her from the sting of having her various injuries located and disinfected. Amanda Byrne, as it turns out, though she calls herself Mandy, and her mother is Katrina Richtold-Witherspoon-Lloyd-Dalton-Eldingkirk-Byrne. Her father is in Tahiti with his mistress, Cici, and, as the little girl explains, she isn't supposed to know that, but her mother talks very loudly when she's drunk and crying over men.
The creature? THAT is long gone.
No quick bob up. Not even a slow one. Not a bob up at all. Walter gets to the bottom before he can get himself calmed and orientated to grab onto something that doesn't move and he pulls himself back up through the water. He takes in several deep breaths after surfacing and there's panic in his eyes. Water is where he goes to die. He clings tot he supports for a while before he's calmed enough to take one hand from the supports to get his pants off. After his boots which get lost to the murky depths.
When Walter comes back up, Charlie looks relieved, though still worried. With the chill in the air... She sighs and pulls her hoody off, using her knife to put a pair of slits in the hood. From there she adds two slits to the hem and fashions the big dude a.. a lioncloth looking set of skivvies that'll keep his balls contained if he feeds the sleeves through the various slits and ties them around his waist.
One of the beach-goers happens to see this .. ah, occurrence in progress, and tactfully rushes over with a large beach towel. "To, um, hide. Just put it on the dock when he's done, um, getting dressed."
Walter stares at Charlie and her seamstress work. "That will not..." But it's really his only option with his pants melted and burned then discarded. He can't fasten anything with only one hand available. SO he loiters in the water for a bit with his face getting redder an redder. He's going to have to get out of the water and his lower half is entirely uncovered. Some small salvation in the form of a towell is offered. In a quick motion, he's out of the water and onto the dock. It's not possible to be completly unseen. But he tries. The towell is grabbed and wrapepd around then he figures out the imprompt loincloth. Wincing the entire time when it touches or rubs his skin. "I hate you." He trries to sound angry at her. But it come from embarassment and it's easy to tell there's a tanks hidden in what he ssays.
Charlie is decidedly NOT looking. The acid on the dock is far more interesting than naked rockbuns. Once he's up and covered, she glances over then rises to adjust the fit of the loincloth and then ties the towel over THAT just in case. "I'll make you new pants at the warehouse. But we've got a bigger problem. That -thing- is still in the lake." she murmurs, starting to work her way back towards the shore end of the dock.
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