Chapter 13: Meeting Some Werewolves

"Hey, I hear there's a real cute ice queen sitting here," came a male voice from behind and next to Rei. She jerked her head awkwardly behind her, spotting a guy who in all honesty should have blended into the local crowd. Brown hair, blue eyes, a loose jacket, earphones in. Something about him was subtly different though, a musk she couldn't put her finger on, so she decided to give him a chance. "I like a challenge, so I thought I'd take you up on it."

She glanced up and down on him, then smiled. Yeah. He'd do. She'd make Brighton so mad by fucking this guy it wouldn't even be funny. "I think I'll fuck you," she said, earning a little laugh from the guy.

"Damn, I guess I'm just that good," he said, sitting down next to her. "What's the occasion? I'm Luke, by the way." He offered his hand.

"Rei," she replied. "Mad at my... well, I'm mad at somebody."

"I get it. Ex? Or present, I don't care," he said, with a little laugh. "Not my problem, but this beautiful lady in front of me's."

Rei had never really flirted before. Even once she got a bitch in the form of Julia, and a fucktoy in the form of Mieko, she still hadn't flirted with them. Why bother when Julia was a nymphomaniac who could barely shut up and Mieko was a toy to get yourself off with?

Fortunately, when you were a girl, that kind of inexperience wasn't as big a deal, and soon enough she was pleasantly laughing along with Luke, absently stroking her fingers against his here and there when the opportunity arose. Luke just kept up his side of the conversation, offering light jokes, mentioning a group of friends he seemed very close with from time to time, and occasionally glancing at one of the doors to the VIP room as he sipped his bottle.

"Mind getting out of here?" He suggested. "If your initial proposal is still good, I'd love to show you a good time." He leaned into her, gently kissing her on the cheek. She felt a little thrill of giddy excitement at the touch. It which was honestly strange. It must have been the girl hormones. She controlled herself, steeling her expression and giving Luke a small nod. "Great," he said, taking her hand and squeezing it. "Come on, beautiful," he said, gently dragging her away.

He took her back to his place, a small apartment that seemed clogged with two entirely distinct interests: torn apart computers, and tribal stuff. It wasn't the cliches of dreamcatchers and totems, the sort of kitschy thing you'd normally see. It was weird - a necklace with dozens of little diamond-shaped bone carvings, a set of gloves sewn with a half moon on the back, and the like. She'd never seen any quite like them before.

"And here is the bed," he said, gesturing towards it with a broad sweep of his arm. She stared at it, the reality setting in for just a moment, and then he kissed her. It was hungry, eager, his tongue slithering into her mouth, his hands wandering her body freely. He groped her ass cheek, dragged her to it, pinned her beneath him. Her own tongue began, at first lightly, then more forcefully, to lick back against him. She wasn't some submissive bitch like Julia, she was a real woman. She was going to show him what she could do. She grabbed his shoulders and flipped him around so she straddled him, earning a faint chuckle from him as she shifted position. She broke off the kiss for a moment, immediately starting to unzip his pants. "You like it on top? I'm cool with that. Ah, my condoms are in my back pocket-"

"I'm on the pill," she told him. It was a lie, but she had used the same power that had transformed her into a woman, to make it so she wouldn't get pregnant a while back. Having some weird incest baby with her clone wouldn't be good.

"Alright. I like it better raw, anyway," he said, hands reaching for her thighs, gently stroking them, pushing up her skirt. She finally removed his cock from his pants, finding it rock hard. It wasn't as large as Brighton's, but in a way, that was good: Brighton's was a bit uncomfortable to take, since he had made it so stupidly big. Was she ever that dumb, not to realize that sometimes a bit of self-control is better?

She gently stroked up and down the length, staring at it. It was the second cock she'd ever seen, and the first one that didn't belong to - her? She absently took hold of the edge of her panties, starting to worm her way out of them, and Luke started to kick off his pants, his hands leaving her thighs to peel off his shirt. He was fit, muscular, chiseled. A bare, well-groomed chest, a certain cocky smile on his lips as her eyes met his again. He absently stroked her thighs for a second, just staring up at her, then spoke. "You'll want to be naked. If you fuck while clothed, your sweat will really wind up stinking up your clothes."

Rei considered those words for a couple seconds, then nodded, quickly unbuttoning her blouse, tossing it aside. She was wearing a plain and simple white bra, something she'd picked out for function rather than form. She felt a faint flush of heat in her cheeks as she was seen in it - the only people she'd really been worried about fucking her had been Brighton (who had zero taste and would stick it in anything), and various submissive cum dumpsters whose opinions she didn't really have any reason to care about. Still, he just gave her an easy smile, clearly enjoying her innocent choice of underwear, and she unhooked the bra with only a couple seconds' difficulty, tossing it to one side.

Only once she was naked, she started to tease her sex at Luke's cock. It felt good, the faint brush and throb of his length against her lower lips. Sex felt so much better with a cunt than with a cock. She rubbed his tip against her clit, enjoying the little spike of pleasure, biting her lower lip for a delicious moment before she pressed him back against her lower lips. She was going to fuck him. There was no going back from this. Brighton would be pissed.

Her lips curled up into a wicked grin and she slammed herself down his cock. He felt snug inside her, despite the fact that she'd previously been fucked by Brighton's monster cock. She just panted for a wonderful second, enjoying the feeling of his length inside her. His hands were gentle, stroking up and down her thighs, staring up at her and just letting her set the pace. He was a thousand times more considerate than Brighton, which wasn't really saying much.

She started to grind herself in place, rubbing his cock around the inside of her sex. She just breathed, enjoying it for a long few seconds, the way her juices slickly rained down all over his cock, her breasts rising and falling with each breath she took. She swallowed some of the saliva in her mouth, then stared down at Luke. He looked too calm. When she was facially abusing Julia or Mieko, she didn't give a fuck what they thought, but this was real sex, she wanted to see his face contort in pleasure. Maybe part of it was some lingering feelings of male pride, but she started to take control of her vaginal muscles, tightening them around his cock, practically jerking him off inside her.

He immediately groaned in surprise, fingers digging into her thighs, practically clawing at her as he did so. She just panted and groaned, getting a little faster atop him, working every last muscle around his dick. His hips started to twitch, to buck, and he bit his lower lip, straining to control himself, to keep from coming.

It was incredibly satisfying to watch. She smiled sadistically down at him, pumping her hips back and forth, ignoring the ever-blooming intense feeling in her cunt, as she did her best to bring him off like that. It was only when she was on the edge of orgasm that she finally realized just how close she was to coming. In a state of near panic, she arrested her movement, breathing heavily as she stared down at him, a little bit of saliva dripping out past her lower lip in an embarrassing show of drooling like a slut. "Yeah, my pussy's number one, right? Best cunt you've ever had. Prime real estate," she said, trying to regain some degree of control over the proceedings.

While Luke didn't mock her for the lines, he did smile at them, his hands moving from her thighs up to her hips - then he started to twist her around. He was strong, stronger than her, and soon enough he had her on her hands and knees, his cock lodged deep inside her cunt as he moved about. She didn't try to stop him - it took every ounce of concentration not to come right then and there, gritting her teeth and clawing at the blankets.

The moment he had her in position, he started to fuck her, rough and hard, pounding away. It felt amazing, each thrust seeming to press against her most sensitive parts. "That's right," he growled out in her ear. "Your cunt is prime real estate, and I'm putting in a bid for it right now," he explained, getting rougher, harder, fucking her on the bed, making it squeak with each thrust. It felt good - good enough she didn't care about his dirty talk or him taking the lead, just letting him ram into her. It took only a few more thrusts before she came, moaning as she collapsed to her elbows, her cheeks hot with arousal, another little droplet of saliva escaping her mouth.

She lost all control as he fucked her, ramming into her cunt again and again, his hands starting to play with her modest bust. He teased her nipples, brushed his thumbs here and there, caressed her chest - and she came, again and again. When she was lucid enough to speak, she was desperate and horny. "Fuck me like a, like a dog!" She squealed out at one point.

"Bark like a dog, then," he said, with a chuckle.

"Arf arf!" She didn't hesitate - only mildly regretting that she hadn't said wan wan instead. "Fuck me like a motherfucker," she panted, before she came again, her whole body twitching as she fell down, prone, onto the bed, and he just kept going, practically using her like a sexual relief aid, but it was so much nicer than when Brighton did it. He held her legs apart, softly thrusting into her again and again, and she used what concentration and awareness she had to try to clench and massage his dick inside her, using those intensely powerful and well-controlled muscles to wring an orgasm out of her.

Soon enough, she felt him deep inside her, cock twitching, hot cum spraying out, a sense of absent satisfaction filling her as he finished off inside her. When he was completely spent, he pulled out, smacking her butt with his half-erect dick a couple times, then collapsing onto his back on the bed.

Both of them had worked up a sweat. Both of them stank of sex. She tilted her head back his way, saw the dopey grin on his face as he looked down at her.

"Want to cuddle?" He suggested.

"A-ah, w-well," she stammered. It was weird, to cuddle with a guy, wasn't it? It wasn't that long ago that she had been a guy, after all.

Luke rose from his position on the bed, wrapping his arms tight around her. His limber body wrapped around hers, his handsome smile seeming so winning in the moment, and he dragged her, gently, down to bed with him, holding her softly in his arms. It felt so strange... and nice, too...

* * *

Julia's neck has some faintly visible purple indentations where your fingers were earlier wrapped around it. Various splatters of white cum paint her tits, her face, her stomach. Some oozes out of her pussy, staining the bed beneath her. Her eyes are peeled back, only the whites visible.

You're glad you worked things out with her.

Wait. Did you, actually? Um. Well, you told her to tell you if she wasn't happy with your plans, rather than just shooting whoever you're trying to turn into a cumdumpster. That's a decent baseline, right?

Julia sputters a bit, saliva and cum running down her cheek as it escapes her throat. She looks really good like this. Makes you want to keep going, despite the difficulties involved.

Your finger absently trails along her inner thigh, brushing along the soft flesh there, enjoying the feeling of it beneath you. Your cock is hard all over again, a full foot and coke can wide glory - the size reminds you of a water bottle, and you know Julia loves it. "I'm going to give you a little brother or sister, soon," you tell her. "I'm going to knock up your mom," you breathe out at her, and you think you can see the hint of a stupid smile on those pretty, dark lips of hers. You press your tongue against your cheek. The way she's so pliant right now, so easy... it's really hot. You get up in between her thighs, grasping her ankles and slowly twisting her legs back until they press against her ears.

You'll say this for her - she's really flexible. "It's time for me to put your onahole cunt to good use again," you tell her, teasing your cock at her slit. She just nods faintly, closing her mouth to swill the cum that's been placed inside it.

In this position, with her inertness, her lovely chocolate skin... if the top half of her body wasn't visible, you could easily imagine you really are just jerking off with an onahole.

It's to that thought that you slam your dick deep, deep inside her.

"No matter what," you tell her, as you take a hold of her hips, starting to furiously fuck into her, making her body bounce on the bed even as she inertly takes it all like a champ. "No matter how many other girls I get?" You say, and she limply nods - or perhaps it's an illusion produced by the way her body is thrashing about. "You'll always be my princess, my onahole, my favorite bitch," you growl out, as you start to furiously fuck her cunt, ramming away.

As you fuck her, you watch and enjoy as her dark hair creates a halo around her features, her eyelashes fluttering, her whole body twitching. She has to swallow your cum eventually, and when she does, she starts to offer her own lewd dirty talk. "Fuck my onahole cunt, rape me, I exist to be your cumdumpster," she squeals out before coming anew, spine arching as she thrashes about beneath you, and you enjoy the tight, wondrous feeling of her pussy around your dick, your brain seeming to melt even as your balls threaten to drain inside her.

"I'm going to knock your mom up, bitch," you breathe out. "I'm going to overload her with so much fertile cum, she's going to have triplets." Julia just sputters and twitches, leg absently kicking at the air, brain shorting out.

After she comes a few dozen times, and both of you say all kinds of lewd crap purely meant to get the other one off - with you groping and molesting her unresisting body where your cum hasn't stained it - you finally fire off another nice, thick load in her cunt. When you're spent, you pull out, settling down onto the bed and catching your breath.

You should do something productive.

You tuck her in, give her a quick peck on the forehead, and get yourself dressed before heading outside. In the sky reigns the moon, her face half-shown. There's a sense of... motherhood, almost, seeing her. It reminds you, vaguely, of when you were young and only had lived with your moms for a few months, and you first started to see them as your mothers, rather than just people taking care of you in the moment. You stretch and strain for that alien reality you visited only for a brief time when you first experienced this new power, and it feels...

It feels as if the engine of power within you has touched, for just a heartbeat, the moon itself, and that connection rips at the wall between reality. Or perhaps, to put it better, it acts as a tether, yanking you across a block that you can't see.

The realm you find yourself in is empty, on first examination. It's the city street you were just on, save perhaps damaged in a way the actual street isn't. Not with graffiti - no, just the opposite, it's as if no one has stepped here in a long time. Where paint peels, it is left alone, revealing brick and wood beneath. Some street lights are gone or dead where they weren't in the real world. There's a faint, ephemeral sense of wrongness to everything, though that may be as easily explained as the place you walk in being seemingly utterly without life. No cars drive down the street, no late night walkers, no gang members or hustlers or street walkers.

Just you, and the ground, and the sky. And the moon.

You look up at the moon. Try to... draw on that connection. To meditate on it. It feels like there might be something there, but it's tenuous, needing something a little more material.

You've done some research on magic, in your time as a... whatever you are. You take the form of a raven and fly up to the roof of the building, staring up at the slightly-alien sky. You think you can recognize some of the planets up there, just scarcely visible as stars in the sky, bright enough to still be visible at night.

There's also Ixion. According to astronomers, it's a very distant gas giant, around ten times the mass of Jupiter, but only twenty percent wider. It appeared in the night sky around twenty years ago - before you were even born - because its upper atmosphere ignited. It's been there for as long as you've been alive, and it's strange to consider that when your moms were young, it wasn't there.

Here, it appears as a blazing bright red star, attracting your attention. While Mars and Mercury and Jupiter and Saturn and Venus are all much more visible here than they are in the real world... Ixion's another class. It almost looks like a tiny sun.

It's beyond your reach, just like the moon, but you settle back down into your human form anyway.

Magic is about sacrifice, connections, mystical relationships between things. Similarity. There is a similarity between you and the moon. You reach up towards it, and let the mark upon your brow flare to life, an empty circle of silver light. For a long moment, that's all you do, trying to will some contact, some connection of a mystical sort. You confuse yourself a few times and think something's really happened, but a moment later you realize it's simply illusory and try some more.

At last comes a thin blue strip of light, like a crescent moon slithering and rolling its way down towards you. It settles upon the roof, curling up like a serpent and facing its tip towards you. It undulates softly, like a charmed snake. "Son of Luna," is all it says, by way of introduction.

"Is that meant to be me or you? Or both?"

The thin ribbon of light seems to twist its 'head' (it has no eyes or mouth or other features to distinguish one end from the other) as if in confusion. "I am a servant of Luna. You carry her blessing."

"Blessing?" Is all you can ask. "You mean the power I have?"

"Yes," it agrees. "You carry a part of her eternal, unending spirit." It twists its head to the other side. "You carry her mark on your brow, No Moon."

You think they're called New Moons, but whatever. "What is this place?" You ask.

"This is the Penumbra," the creature explains. "It is the nearest part of the spirit to your world, and is patterned upon it."

"Just the nearest?" You prompt, glancing at the sky and wondering.

"The Celestine will not greet you here." It pauses for a moment. "Luna resides in the Aetherial Realm."

"What is a Celestine?"

"The greatest of the spirits," it explains.

"Could I make the trip to the Aetherial Realm and back? How would I get there?"

You are reading story Exalted versus the World of Darkness at novel35.com

It shivers in discomfort. "Our mistress does not wish to be bothered," it tells you simply, as if to say, it doesn't matter if you could - don't.

"Not even for her, uh... long lost son?" It shakes its 'head'. "Why did she give me my blessing, then?"

"Why does a boy give his heart away to a pretty girl? Is it an act of reason or a flight of fancy, or something else entire? Her longing has brought you your power - there is no more to it than that."

"I don't have anything she expects of me?"

"To live."

You can only shift awkwardly where you sit. It doesn't seem to be overly fond of straight answers. "Can you teach me about the Penumbra?"

"Can a rabbit teach you of the forest?" It slithers forwards towards you, just like a snake, curling round your leg and slowly twining its way up to your neck, brushing against your bare skin. It feels cool, like metal, not warm like something with life in it. "I can tell you which spirits are dangerous and which are benign, but I cannot speak to the paths and places. I merely follow my own instincts in an endless, winding journey beneath Luna's eyes."

"...I see. You can call me Brightscale." You're not sure if giving your real name would do anything magical. "What should I call you?"

It trembles for a moment, and you briefly worry you're about to get into a fight. "You may call me, Skiver," it settles on, after a long second.

"I have a feeling we're going to have a long, fun relationship, Skiver," you tell it. You absently reach for its body, briefly stroking your fingers along it. "How can I find you again, when I leave this place?"

It twirls momentarily, its body beating against yours like you were a piano and it was running its fingers all the way down the length. "Your aura is very distinctive, though I can tell you still restrain it; unfurl it to its full glory, and I will find it."

It probably means that glowy thing. You guess that works as well as anything, but... "Won't that attract others?"

It rolls its upper body in a weird mimicry of a shrug. "It will."

"Any initial info? I know nothing about this place."

"The servants of the Weaver and the Wyrm are the greatest dangers. Weaver's children appear like spiders or prismatic shapes, most oft; Wyrm's like strange beasts, corrupted parodies of ordinary and good things."

"What about where to go?" You prompt.

"A place of spiritual import in your realm will be reflected here, perhaps even greater in shape; it is unto you where you would like to look, for this city is vast and I know it little but by the sky's eye."

"What do I have to do if I want something more formal than just shooting off a flare and hoping you'll show up?"

It thrums with energy for a moment, a tingle of excitement that vibrates across your whole body. "You must offer chiminage. A payment for services rendered; at the moment, all I ask is the chance to hold my body so close to this tiny, beautiful part of Luna's glory," it tells you, rubbing against you. "But if you wish more than mere convenient words, I will ask for more."

"I see. Tell me about the Weaver and Wyrm as we go down, I don't know who those are." You take the form of a bird, and it takes a moment to wrap itself back around you in your new shape - then you take flight.

"The Weaver is the Weaver, it connects and it builds. The Wyrm is the Wyrm, it destroys and it corrupts. The dance is the dance, Wyld, Weaver, Wyrm, round and round and round again. They are even further away than Luna, but their domains stretch cross the whole world. There is a great place of the Wyrm just to the east of here; a great place of the Weaver to the north." Since you just left Julia, east would probably be Hunters Point - north would be... probably some tech company, you don't know which.

You hit the ground, transform back into your human self, and decide to head east. Skiver begins to speak as you do. "Did you not hear me? The Wyrm-things dwell there. Corrupted, broken, monstrous."

"I know. I want to see them," you explain; then you let yourself flow into the background, your whole body seeming to become nothing in the cool moonlight of these strange streets.

It's only a brisk half hour's walk before you're seeing what lies beyond the fences here. They're simultaneously more vicious - black metal screwed in great concertina wires, pillars that jut up out of the earth like a syringe was pierced from the other side, oozing glistening materials of every color in the rainbow - and yet, less controlling, with parts of them having been torn down or tossed aside.

Where the Whitelight facility is in the real world, you see a glistening white thing, purified and almost sacred, looking like some mixture of a cathedral and a skyscraper, its windows glittering as they reflect the stars and sky. It sits at the center of a star fortification, tall walls erected, machine guns surrounding it, beings of pure steel standing before them, in a variety of forms.

On the north end of Hunters Point, where Noumenon and Catellus make their bases, rove monsters in the visage of men, with skeletal faces and aching, grotesque designs of all kind, like some kind of foul corrupted zombie. Skiver curls tighter round you, cloaked in the same invisibility that makes you impossible to see.

Between the two places lies a great no man's land. Nothing walks upon it, and nothing grows there, just an aching nothingless. It's what you imagine the DMZ between North and South Korea to look like.

You decide to leave the wretched place, heading back out and to the north, asking Skiver for a bit of directions towards the Weaver site there. It hesitates before handing the information over, but soon enough you've managed to smoothly convince it to guide you to your desired destination. You may have used some exaggerated tales of how you (Julia, but Skiver doesn't need to know that) defeated multiple vampire lords and that your invisibility cannot be pierced (how would you know?), but it gets you what you want, and you're fine anyway.

It's a long journey - you take a lot of it by air - and soon enough you see it. Just south of Market is what looks like a grotesque cocoon formed of countless strands of silver razor wire, twisting and twining around each other, tall as a skyscraper. Dozens, hundreds, of spiders crawl across it, and a long spire stretches far, far up into the sky, before cracking into numerous threads that seem to stretch into the endless distance. You wind up taking to the ground just to avoid the risk of getting shredded by some thin steel wire you miss.

Within the region closest to the great cocoon stretch numerous other, smaller webs, each stretching back to the main cocoon, each attended by a glistening metallic spider-creature the size of a house cat. The beings are almost like snowflakes, each unique - no particular arrangement of eyes is ever the same as far as you notice, and the geometry of the head and abdomen vary as well. Even the number of legs lies between eight and sixteen.

You decide to head west and north, towards Lincoln Park, taking flight to make the journey easier - once you've backed out of the death nest that is this Weaver pit.

When you finally arrive, Lincoln Park looks... lush. More alive than it does in the real world, even. What's a golf course in real life is untamed and untrammeled wilderness, the greens seeming brighter, the browns seeming richer. Here, and only here, this world looks 'right.' More than the real world, even. You breathe in the lush air, glance here and there at the... deer spirits? They look like them, though you're not sure if such critters are in the real Lincoln Park.

You don't worry. You're invisible. You let your senses stretch out, drinking in everything. It feels great, too, just standing here. Energy fills your body like a lush prize, making you almost tipsy with the way the magical engine inside you thrums extra hard.

Then you hear the sound of a pair talking to one another. One voice is female, human, speaking clear English; the other is... something else, speaking in growls and barks, almost indistinguishable from an animal but having just enough control over its faculties to enunciate something like consonants and vowels. It reminds you of those videos of a cat saying 'I love you' or a cow saying 'Allahu akbar,' except that there's a far greater set of vocabulary.

"Do you smell it, Roxy? I didn't see any sign of whoever it is, but the wards went off."

"Grathn akna," 'Roxy' agrees.

"Okay. Great. I had a hot date, but I guess that's on the backburner now, huh?"

"Ket." A moment's pause, and the footsteps approach - two sets, one of two feet, one of four. "Tratch khahat tir sin kural na."

"I'm sure it's a lot easier when all you have to do is wag your butt and the guy goes for it." There's another pause. "Think it's a Wan Kuei? According to Luke, they probably killed off the vampire bitch. Maybe think they can expand even further." There's the distinct sound of a gun being loaded. They'll arrive soon enough, and it seems your capacity for invisibility doesn't mean you can't be smelled.

You decide to drop your invisibility. Best not to cause any unnecessary problems. You raise your hands defensively, glancing up at the sky - yeah, the moon's still there. May be a bit tough to... connect, in a pinch, but you can feel that the boundary between here and the real world is thinner. You start to walk forward, eventually coming face to face with a blonde woman wearing a black dress, a gun in her hand; accompanying her is a large, silver-coated wolf.

"Who are you, and what are you doing on our turf?" She doesn't point her gun at you right away, holding it down, but she's definitely ready to bring it up.

"Thetch nir shan khaal," growls the wolf - Roxy.

"He can't understand- oh God, holy shit," she says, recoiling lightly, her eyes bulging. Even the wolf steps back at the same moment, as if somebody'd just sprayed water on its nose. "One of - what the hell are you?" Rather than raise her gun to point it at you, though, she lowers it, seeming more deferent now, not less.

"I m a No Moon, chosen by Luna. I was exploring this place, trying to get to know the area, and the people. You can call me Brightscale." You let the mark appear on your brow again, and there's another step backwards on both Roxy and the blonde woman's part.

"Chosen by Luna? What, you're a Nagah or something?" You heard that once before, from Kuroko. Shortly before you killed her. Hopefully you don't wind up in the same situation a second time.

"Kerrrn shach sher," Roxy provides, from the sidelines.

"If you want to talk to him, use your human mouth, I'm not translating," the woman says, glancing down at Roxy.

Skiver disentangles itself from your body, slithering forward from you like a ribbon unwrapping itself, but floating on the air effortlessly as it emerges. "Brightscale is special..." its 'tail' absently caresses your cheek. "He has a special blessing from Luna."

There's a minute or so of back and forth between Skiver and the woman, as it explains what you are, through layers of poetry and metaphor. It's clear she holds some deference for Skiver - for all 'Lunes,' which is apparently what he is. Occasionally she spares a glance at you, as if you'd made some noise, even when you're quite sure you haven't. Whenever it happens, Roxy similarly responds, her ears flicking up sharply. It follows a certain rhythm, maybe once every ten seconds or so.

"So... he's like a... proto-werewolf? Luke says that's what the Kami are."

"His gift is Luna's spirit; Gaia played no role."

At last, after growling and barking a few times in the midst of the conversation, Roxy stands up on her hind legs, her body morphing and twisting into that of a beautiful silver-haired woman wearing very little clothing at all. She draws a gun of her own from her hip, glancing at you as she does.

"Though you knew not my lands, you trespassed still." She says it with an almost musical cadence, as if reciting poetry. "Here is not yours, and yours is not here; Luna's blessed or Wyrm's twisted, let Brightscale not darken the Earth here any longer."

"Do I owe you anything for my trespass?" You ask her, not wanting to cause problems with one of the first supernatural beings you've met that was not clearly evil.

"So long as you go, once will be forgiven."

"How should I approach in the future, then? If I wanted to speak with you, or..." you gesture vaguely at the blonde.

"Isabel. Just call me. You are kinda cute." She proceeds to give you her number, and you proceed to put it in your phone. Roxy's lips quirk in irritation as she sees you typing. "You eighteen?"

"Yeah," you tell her. "Is there anywhere else I should avoid?"

"The caern under the Yamaguchi's control," Isabel offers. "It's the one in the Castro. They're pretty nasty bunch of people. The caern under the lightning people's control, that's the one in Hunters Point, they're real dangerous, and they're at least dealing with the Wyrm-scum there. And the caern in Chinatown, it's held by another pack. Plus there's plenty of Chinese Wan Kuei hanging around there anyway. Beyond that, I dunno," she admits, with a casual shrug.

"Information given freely is taken with grace, and you should depart with it, as well," Roxy says, clearly antsy from you sticking around in her turf. She bares her teeth for a moment, which looks kind of like a smile, but you're perceptive enough to get it.

"Right, come on, Skiver," you say, gesturing for the Lune to come along with you. You leave the area quickly, not wanting to overstay your (un)welcome.

You fly home, say good bye to Skiver, and return back to the real world - fortunately, without suffering any grotesque violence. Apparently you live only a few blocks from the giant cocoon at... you try to mentally cross-reference its location, and frown. Twitter headquarters?

You shake your head and go inside. Both Alex and Chanelle are home, though Rei isn't. You hope she's bringing you back useful intel on the vamps, because you can't imagine what else she could be wasting her time with. You fucked Julia so hard the girl's not going to be useful for much for a week. Maybe she's raping Mieko or something.

You can find story with these keywords: Exalted versus the World of Darkness, Read Exalted versus the World of Darkness, Exalted versus the World of Darkness novel, Exalted versus the World of Darkness book, Exalted versus the World of Darkness story, Exalted versus the World of Darkness full, Exalted versus the World of Darkness Latest Chapter