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Hybrid Breeds and Mixed Deeds

Summary: The Hybrid Appreciation Event is underway, funded by the Horns Conglomerate and hosted by Louis the Red Deer. However, despite the roster of speakers for the event, a handful of special guests have decided to attend, as well! However, not everyone is on their best behavior.


Who: Louis, Sam_Walker
When: June 12, 2025
Where: Haku-to Center for City Governance, Denko City, Beast Island


The information contained within this log is to be considered information gained Out of Character (OOC).
This information may not be used as In Character (IC) knowledge or in roleplay unless it has been learned in-game or permission has been granted by the parties involved.

Questions should be directed to staff.


Behind closed doors, a small deer talks to a larger stag while a lion stands near the exit. His clothing and image are immaculate from the trim of his claws, the shine of his antlers, to the fit of his three piece suit. The fabric is rich, silky, and colored a dark maroon. The look on his face shows a different hue altogether. Piercing eyes look upward to the stag while hand motions reveal a rather heated conversation. All the same, his voice volume is kept low so nobody outside the room can hear.

"...and we're going to make enemies today over this, Hartford. Publicly. I'm expecting retaliation financially, sure, but there are monsters in the dark waiting for excuses to fight battles or wage war. That's- That's what we're doing today. Again."

Hartford, the older stag, appears to be a well-seasoned businessman and is one of Louis' most trusted assistants regarding the overarching duties of Horns Conglomerate. Not just a yes-man, the stag speaks in a professional tone and manner and addresses his boss with the respect that comes with the position. "Nothing that you cannot count on us to weather, Mister Louis. I have the same faith in your judgment as I did with your late father's."

There's a pause, a short-lived grimace, then an internal frown at the mention of Oguma. Louis cannot help but compare his own vision with what he feels his father, Oguma, and his extremely missed friend, Ibuki, would suggest or do. It's not second guessing. It's trying to stay true to the self despite how things change. "I know... No holding back now."

"It's time, boss," states the black-suited lion. Dolph has been paying attention to the talks outside and is ready to accompany his boss as security for what's about to happen.

"Of course it is. Is my tie straight?" asks the small deer of the lion that towers over him.

"You look great, boss. Now show them what my boss can do when he sets his mind to something he wants."

Hartford doesn't understand the reference, but close history between Louis and Dolph dictates a different image. Louis simply smiles, just a bit. It really is the same as before. One faction playing at war with others over the fate of innocent souls caught up in the middle. Dolph opens the door but the deer that steps through first isn't Louis the Drama President or Louis the University Student or even Louis the Business Husband. He's not Louis the Best Friend or Louis the Ex-Lover or Louis the Almost Beastar. He's not Louis the Statistic.

Louis the Former Shishigumi Boss steps through the door and turns to walk out onto the stage of the converted ballroom of a City Hall. While not the Denko Metropolitan Government Building, this building is better for social functions that include or benefit the city and is often used for political rallies. The sizable ballroom offers plenty of space for the public venue and the area is filled not only with guests, but also tables of refreshments and food for differing beasts with at least two vetted dietary practitioners on-hand to help determine what is safe for consumption for each guest. In addition, multiple studio-sized cameras are set up to record most angles of the stage and some of the rest of the room, each manned by media personnel.

There is some clapping and cheering as Louis appears, walking by many others already on the stage, sitting, as if for a purpose. Unlike most of the easy to identify beasts around, most of those sitting and clapping seem to be...mixed breeds. Louis waves and smiles in a professional way, Dolph stands close but not too close, and Hartford passes Dolph to walk over along with his employer. He gets an introduction from a Carnivore host, yet then steps up onto a platform behind the podium so that his diminutive size doesn't impact his visibility. His metal right 'foot' clinks against the pedestal as he does inadvertently drawing attention to it. He leans in toward the bouquet of mics to speak.

"On behalf of the Horns Conglomerate and our goal to raise public awareness and effected positive change for all beasts, I welcome you all to our Hybrid Appreciation Event." Louis can't help but scan the crowd t osee if a certain hybrid friend is present, but the wolf probably forgot he was even invited. Nonetheless, his eyes settle upon each wolf-like guest in turn as he speaks. "As you all well know, Hybrid-Born Species have been only spoken of in hushed whispers for many generations. The recent reconstruction of the former Back Alley-" he states, although leaves out 'market' as the callout alone will already cause distress in many, "-into a residential zone for Hybrid-Born beasts, along with facilities for specialized foods and unbiased education practices, was only the first step. Now that lives have been rebuilt and a measure of living comfort for those discriminated against has been reached, we are now ready to hear directly from them."

Louis half turns to gesture to those sitting behind him with an outstretched arm. "We have some very special guests with us here today that we'll be hearing from. After they have had a chance, each, to tell their story, they have graciously agreed to field any questions you might have for them." He turns back and leans forward, eyes narrowing just a bit. "Horns Conglomerate understands that this may feel to some as a political proposition or movement. While we stand for equality and co-existence, not everyone is ready or willing to allow every beast the same rights and treatment as all others. There are organizations out there whose principals and goals fly in the very face of this basic freedom of living." Louis adjusts his stare to bore into one of the cameras as if looking directly at a very particular civet that already tried to have him killed at least once before.

"I, Louis the Red Deer, welcome any of you so opposed to our just cause to attend a public discussion on the matter in the same vein as our event today. It's only fair that equality be extended to all parties involved, even bigots." Hartford winces a bit at this coarse statement. "Our dedication is to understanding, after all, and, through it, forgiveness and a foundation for a united tomorrow!"

A redeeming final punctuation, perhaps, at least lends to cheering and applause.

Site of interest no.31. The moniker rolled off the tongue like sandpaper by comparison to what the locals called it, though 'of interest' was fitting enough. For its hundred years since its founding day, the colony had only seen just the one animal person. To find themselves watching entire cities full of them through their recon drone feeds, listening to their transmissions and trying to piece together their story from afar, well, that was certainly an 'interesting' development.

Sam's boots were Citadel's first on Denko's ground. Normally the young bio-technologically uplifted wolf would have been a more startling sight, yet in Denko he blended into crowds of animal people like none of their other Nomad surveyors could ever hope. He'd become a little cocky perhaps on this, his second day amongst them. His reports were already a wealth of data far richer than the colony could have ever hoped to have gleaned through their more cautious monitoring, yet what better way was there to really measure the pulse of a place than an event like this?

He paused to take note of the crowd. 'Hybrids' weren't unknown to him, after all, Impids, Dirtmoles, Baseliners, Yttakin, Pigskin and even more besides had all found themselves a home in Citadel much like he had, but here there seemed to be a tension behind it. An uneasiness. Even here, he was hearing applause from one side, then discontented sounding murmurs from another.

With Louis' eyes going from wolf to wolf, they probably wouldn't take too long to land on Sam. The black furred one was listening, fairly intently for that matter, amber eyes looking up at the deer, ears only occasionally swivelling to track on the louder grumbles or occasional odd noise while in his hand he had gotten himself a small selection of things from the buffet sitting on a paper plate. Sam wasn't going to turn down free food. Perhaps he could chalk even this part up as work related. Food is important to culture, after all.

The food, much like the local spiritual beliefs and superstitions, reflect much of an Eastern style. While a number of the foods available are simple -- the easier to monitor dietary restriction -- none seem to involve what most consider to be 'meat'. Then again, the Beast Island doesn't sport any sort of local wildlife as a part of the ecosystem. There are plenty of insects and other base invertebrates, sure, but no small game in the brush or birds flying in the sky other than the local bird 'people', and those beasts have licenses to do so. All the same, were one to ask, a dietician may have simple fish sausage to offer for the Carnivore in need where other protein supplements won't do.

"Our first guest is Pelan the Striped Skunk/Aardvark." No bushy tail to be seen, but he does appear to be a very fluffy anteater. With sharp teeth, a friendly smile and wave show. "Later in the programme we'll also hear from Setsu the Bengal Tiger/African Lion, Jonna the Boar/Silverback Gorilla, and our Guest Star, who isn't a hybrid, but is instead a Gazelle that fathered a hybrid many of us know, and is here to talk about how social bias affects being the parent of a mixed breed."

There are murmurs in the crowd as people recognize the glasses-wearing meek-looking older gazelle only due to association. There are whispers about melon, too, as one fruit bat eating a slice turns to look over in surprise.

"Pelan, if you would please step on up and tell the gathered your story, and may the rest of you give Pelan a welcoming round of applause. Thank you for being here, Pelan." The deer steps down and meets the hybrid with a hand shake before they step up to speak. Louis walks over to Hartford and whispers something, the stag nods, and the smaller of the two wanders to the side of the stage where the steps lead down...where Dolph the Lion stands.

Sam had stuck to the more simple options. Those were safer he figured. Less risk of both eating something he shouldn't, whether that something would have a rogue chunk of onion hidden in it or just have far too much spice to handle with any sort of dignity. That and perhaps it being easier to hide that he was a foreigner even if his accent'd likely be giving that away far sooner. That drawl was hard to hide, and trying probably would have just left him sounding ridiculous anyhow.

He'd just popped something that he was fairly certain was some sort of spring roll into his mouth when he heard the crowd turn again. He paused mid chew, ears on a swivel once more. Something about this gazelle had the crowd tense, even if from where he was sitting he couldn't think of much more of an unassuming figure. He tried to listen in though even with his hearing being as sharp as it was all he was getting was a few words in amongst the background, some coming up more frequently than others, though one kept breaking through. 'Melon'. Sam was guessing by this point they weren't talking about the fruit.

Pelan opens up with a basic introduction, age, and where they grew up in the city. It's a fairly relaxed affair, overall. The speakers can speak, those that want to listen can listen, and those that want to converse can do so without much in the way to disturb others overly. The shape and design of the room help with that a lot. "And like most others my age at the time, I didn't know what other children were picking on me about. I knew I looked different from my mother and father, but I didn't know how that was supposed to be bad."

Louis exits the stage down the steps in order to make his way to the table that offers fresh vegetable juice, but it's not an easy task. Stopped every so often, he shakes plenty of hands and makes a lot of small talk. While the event is sponsored by Horns Conglomerate, it's also a topic of business platforming. The sheer money available for investment is enough to influence city law. It's damningly effective in a way that makes it all too obvious how other organizations, like the Kopi Luwak Research Organization, are able to obtain so much influence through the management and sale of research and information. As such, speaking with Louis is a direct way of interacting with the heart of the Co-Existence Movement.

It's true, though. The content they are openly discussing and broadcasting have been quite taboo and are serious matters with more than one dark side in its history. "That's why we're working hard to bring these important matters into the light. Thank you for being here. Please, excuse me for now, but in the meanwhile you might want to speak with Doctor Grames in attendance today. He could have some insight on your nephew's condition." Louis doesn't shy from such encounters. He boldly meets them, eye contact and all, while a few of his security detail watch vigilantly close by.

Sam took down a few more notes, claw like fingernails clacking slightly against the colony issued datatab disguised within a conventional smartphone's shell. He wasn't so much interested in the specific stories, noting those down only in brief compared to what he was able to glean about the attitudes towards those who could be called 'hybrids'. While he wasn't exactly sure whether that attitude would extend so much as to make these people spooked at the sight of Citadel's population should actual contact be made, it was certainly worth a consideration.

Then again he couldn't help but start wondering if the sight of even just a baseliner human alone would be enough to spook them. He hadn't seen any around since he left the colony, and a lot of these people had apparently been treated almost as though they were monsters on mere appearances alone. Not a good sign, albeit, maybe this talk was indicative of a shift in such things.

He soon found his way back to the table. It was partially to grab another couple of those spring rolls, Sam'd found himself starting to take a liking to them, but mostly to stay within easy enough earshot of this deer without obviously looking like he was snooping on his conversations. Surely there was more to this than just what he'd seen and heard so far.

"I still remember the time -- how could I forget -- when an upperclassman hare approached me after school with some friends. Earlier that day I had sat near them at lunch since every other empty spot was already, uh, taken. You know? Yeah. Heh. So, he walks right up to me and, without warning, socks me right in the nose. I was stunned at first. Surprised. But then he yelled in my face: We don't want any filthy hybrids in our school. Don't come near us again, freak! I wanted to cry, but I was so confused that I just couldn't do anything other than hold my bloody nose as they walked away angrily cheering to each other."

Louis stops at the counter set out to offer drinks. "Vegetable juice. Something green and bitter, if you've got it." For now, he's got a moment to himself, it seems.

"Not two? I was hoping your lovely wife would be here."

"Azuki is meeting with friends for a personal dinner this evening."

"Ah, I understand. Here you go, Mister Louis." A cup is handed over with what looks like a very green juice indeed. He lifts it to his face to sniff it just in time for the lights to flicker and dim. A number of beasts present murmur some mild alarm, but the lights never go out. After a moment passes, the weakened lights restore to full. Louis lowers his cup and cuts a look over to one of the nearby lions, a strong looking one named Miguel, just as Miguel pulls out his phone to make a phone call. A few laughs echo around the ballroom, however, and the talking continues. Louis puts his drink down on the counter and turns away to scan the room, as a precaution. As a habit.

"Mister Louis, your drink, sir."

Something didn't feel right. Sam had almost allowed himself to relax a little before, to take in the atmosphere rather than the potential threats. On the one hand, it was only a flickering light. With his eyes especially that in of itself was a trivial issue, though the whole time he'd been on Denko so far there hadn't been even a hiccup in the grid to the point that the city having well established, if a little primitive by Citadel's standards, infrastructure was somewhere in one of his earlier reports.

He did much the same as the deer and scanned the room for threats, his mind listing the possibilities. Chief among the list was simple happenstance. A gust of wind blowing a pylon in the wrong way, or a fuse popping, yet he couldn't help but think of more 'what ifs'. The topic at hand was, seemingly, a controversy. The speaker had actively called *someone* out earlier.

He let his senses wander the room. Eyes, nose, ears, all three of them trying to gain a better picture than one of them could alone. Eyes scanned for movement in shadows, ears for the fizzle of a mechanoid's EMI dynamo, nose for either mundane frazzled electrics or perhaps the acrid chemical smell of something more untoward.

Of course all that'd be a whole lot easier if he didn't have to be so subtle about it. That and the fact that a room full of people and food creates quite a confusing environment for a snoofter to sift through.

Nothing seems off. Nothing immediate. All of those faces; everybody blends in. Pelan continues to talk. Dolph gazes across the room. Miguel speaks on his phone. Louis flicks an ear and turns back to grab his drink, even if it does smell a bit off. He's now distracted. If something goes wrong, it'll be dealt with, though. He, on the other hand, has to continue to appear strong. It's all made broadcast, after all, and one brief moment of weakness on camera will live on forever.

"But it was resilience in the face of that oppression that other beasts are taught is okay at a young age that I was able to over-" Ka-thunk! The power suddenly fully drops. "-come...that...feeling...of...weakness...and..." Pelan's words go from amplified to merely spoken mid-sentence, almost muted in the face of the muffling darkness.

It's a ballroom. No windows. Just doors. With no light sources, it's pitch dark. For some present, that's not an issue. For the Herbivores, though, there is more than a murmuring alarm. "I can't see anything," somebody says amidst the crowd.

"Somebody check the breaker?" suggest another.

"Guess the city forgot to pay the electricity bill," jokes another voice. "Probably gonna make Horns pay for that, too."

It's not that it's an immediate sense of emergency. It's that it clearly borders on one. Even Louis looks suddenly lost as he stands there. Somebody from the crowd walks up onto the stage, but Pelan waves a hand. "No, it's okay. I can see in the dark. I take after my father like that. Ha, my daughter does, too."

There's other movement, too. Most people in the gathering stay put. Carnivores seem to be keeping close to nearby Herbivores, as well, offering a supportive presence while the issue gets resolved. It's a mixed bag with the hybrids present, though. It feels like a spring being wound up too tightly, more and more and more.

Louis keeps a stern face and at least tries to rely on his other senses.

For a moment Sam was just as blinded as the rest of the herbivores, his eyes taking a few precious seconds to adjust to the sudden loss of the light. In some ways his eyesight was flawed as compared to his human peers. Colour blindness, lesser depth perception, though seeing through the darkness was one area where he had all but the underground dwelling Dirtmoles beat by a considerable margin.

Something inside screamed at him to ready his weapon. To reach into the holster hidden in his jacket and take comfort in the cold certainty of steel in his hand yet more rational thoughts held him back. If he could still see, so could others, and standing there with a revolver after the power mysteriously drops probably wouldn't be a good look.

Instead he settled for redoubling his efforts in scanning the surroundings, all up until a herbivore, an oddly tall rabbit from what he could make out, quite literally stumbled into him. Wired as he was, catching them before they hit the ground wasn't an issue, though the terrified yelp at the feeling of a clawed hand stopping them from falling to the cold hard floor possibly was.

"Whoa, easy. It's OK, I got ya'. You alright?" His voice was low and as soothing as he could make it, though it came through tinged with a drawl and deep gravel that was perhaps a little less common for the region.

"I-I-... I thought- You-"

Came a stammered reply. "And I reckoned I was gonna get through today without the dang ringin' in my ears coming back. Thanks, by the way." He offered a hand up, the rabbit still clinging to him and clearly now more terrified of the dark than the warm voiced wolf man standing in it. "Here, lets get you back on yer feet at least. Just try not to put a hole in my other eardrum while you're at it."

A figure passes beside Sam and the rabbit. They speak up concerning the yelp, as the sound also startles others in the room already on edge, "Somebody just tripped. Stay calm." It's Miguel. "Boss, Hino says it's only our block that went out. We're getting you out of here."

Louis looks in the direction of the familiar voice. "I'm 'not' leaving all these people behind if something is wrong. Give the backup generator time to kick in first."

"Look, I said I'm okay," protests Pelan as the one checking on them reaches out to touch their shoulder. "But I don't like being touched. Thank you, th-OWHH!" Setsu, a very large feline Liger hybrid, jolts from his chair to rush toward Pelan, but is too late to prevent the stranger from shoving a blade into the hybrid's gut.

"NO!!" yells the sizeable feline beast as he rushes to help, a large hand grasping at the hoodie-wearing assailant's to pull the knife back in an attempt to disarm them.

This sets off a chain reaction that ripples through the crowd. What was tense and tempered with humor and care explodes into sudden panic. Dolph draws his firearm and tries to push toward the stage through the intense crowd. Miguel puts his back to Louis and keeps an eye out the best he can. There are only two exits: double doors leading out the side and the single door leading into the side room that Louis, Hartford, and Dolph came from that leads windingly out to the same place as the doubles, yet the ones most concerned about leaving can't see to flee.

"You!" Sam pointed to a smaller carnivore, some sort of fox by his reckoning that was frozen momentarily staring in shock yet clearly still able to see through the darkness. The wolf's voice had switched up from the soft calm and soothing tone used when trying to comfort the terrified rabbit, turning instead to to a shout packing a whole lot more fire behind its words. "Take him and get clear! Don't get caught in the crowd!" A pause. He was still standing there. Rooted to the ground. "What in the hell are you doing still standing there!? Go! You can see, rest of 'em can't! Move and help them!"

What happened next was less a result of planning and forethought. It was a reaction. Instinct, no real plan or strategy save for Citadel's training drills drove Sam forward as he lunged towards the knifeman. First he tried to make a grab at his wrist, digging his claws in deep, hoping to apply enough pressure for him to let go of the blade while with his other land a heavy blow to the side of his head, hoping to knock the man to the ground!

Setsu is big, but the stranger with the blade is surprisingly strong. Then again, the Liger really isn't much of a fighter. If anything, his mixed blood results in some health issues that makes this a real stretch in personal endurance and energy. His teeth bare as he struggles for control of that knife hand, but the blood from the now collapsed and wheezing Pelan makes getting a hold difficult. The assailant yanks the blade away, catching Setsu's palm in the process, setting the large guy to recoil before jerking backward to avoid a sudden follow-up slash.

Just as the blade begins to swing again, another hand intercepts, although the sudden burst to get there may have knocked a few beasts aside. Dolph keeps his gun trained on the fight, but works on getting Hartford and the other nearby guests away through the side room. The gazelle on the far side of the stage doesn't move, though, and it's too dangerous to try to get him by the scuffle otherwise.

While claws may grip that wrist, adrenaline is running too high for pain to factor into the fight. The punch at the stranger's head 'just' misses being direct as the figure twitches their head to the side -- amazing reaction skills demonstrated -- that does manage to knock the hood of the sweatshirt back to reveal their face...just as the generator kicks in, the lights come up by half, and the broadcast resumes. However, instead of a skunk/aardvark telling a story, there's a wolf, a liger, and a hare fighting center frame.

Screaming ensues and many guests that weren't able to flee now do. Yet, not all take off. Many Carnivores and a few Hybrids remain. Blinking at the returned light and quickly taking stock of the situation, Louis yells commands.

"Keep the broadcast going! Miguel, Dolph has the stage. Help evacuate some of these animals and call enforcement." It's only then that Louis notices the danger is...a hare?!

Pelan notices, too, and cries out wetly in realization from the stage floor near Sam's feet. The lapine aims a retaliatory kick at the inside of the wolf's right knee.

Sam couldn't end this fight in one knockout punch like planned. He saw that much now. This hare was fast. Light on his feet. The Liger man perhaps not so much, the wolf could see that he was both likely untrained and already flagging, something made only worse by the chunk ripped out of his large hand dripping red onto the wooden boards of the stage. Sam adjusted his footing, widening his stance, though braced and ready to ride the blow as he was the hare's powerful kick still nearly sent him down to one knee.

The lights didn't help either. His eyes, having adjusted to the darkness of the room now momentarily blinded by the glare, no doubt allowing the hare to get yet another solid blow in. Sam would do his best to deflect, to minimise the damage but even with that there was only so much the wolf could do. He needed to regain control, and do it fast. The weapon was still a factor. He had to take control. Knife arm was already injured, he grabbed at it, tried to get a good grip again so he could keep the blade away. Next, a body blow. a swift knee to the gut, followed by a strike upwards with the heel of his palm to the nose of his hopefully stunned target and finished with a hard throw to the ground if he could manage to pull it off.

If he had the time, be it either finally incapacitating the knife wielding hare man or just simply his offensive buying him a brief moment he'd quickly glance over to the liger, just long enough to tell him to help Pelan and to apply pressure to the wound. As for the attacker, well, Sam was fairly certain he had that in hand by this point. Whether that confidence was misplaced or not was anyone's call.

Dolph winces as the lights cut back in, as well, but tries to keep his firearm trained on the attacker. His sights bob within focus, but he's just not able to get a clean shot with the scrapping. It doesn't help that he notices the one in the hoodie is a Hare, of all things. "An...an Herbivore?" It didn't make any sense.

One coyote rushes over to finally give the rabbit some assistance that Sam had called for help on before rushing to the stage. Stooping over a bit, the Coyote slips an arm around the Rabbit's shoulders to help support in their evacuation through the main double doors, where most who leave are heading. The remaining Carnivores and Hybrids that choose to stay, along with two very intrepid camera operators, keep an eye on things to help if they can. Local enforcement is very much made aware and medical is accompanying them on the way. A few local news outlets tune in to the broadcast with a breaking report on the incident, but they only know as much as everyone else.

Helpless in watching the brawlers trading blows, the large Liger instead unwinds his scarf to wrap around his hand before trying to focus on helping the fallen Pelan with some pressure on the stab wound. "Name's Setsu. Sorry, but you might get some tiger and lion blood mixed with your skunk and aardvark blood," he winces.

Not at all wanting the fallen hybrid to get any help, his dodging and blocking are weakened by his side advance and attempt to kick the wall of feline away. Tethered by the hold on his knife hand, however, this advantage allows some control over his positioning which results in a few nasty blows and a toss to the ground. Head thunking against the wooden floor, blade clattering away to land at the frozen gazelle's feet, the hare rolls a few times into the now emptied chairs that recently held guests. Pushing their chest and head up from the stage floor a little, the lapine spits in Pelan's direction. There's real venom in that gesture, though thankfully not literally.

Miguel walks away from Louis at this point to cover the main exit with Dolph near the side; the stabber isn't going to find an easy exit.

"It all makes sense now," says Louis, the ballroom able to share his voice easily despite the room's size. "How else would that hare be able to see in the dark to attack somebody?" Pelan gazes over at the hare with a shaky head. Could it be true?

Satisfied enough that the hare was both disarmed and properly punted in equal measure with all his avenues of escape blocked by this deer speaker's security team, he jogged over to Pelan and Setsu and knelt down next to the downed anteater, sliding a little on the polished stage before he came to a stop.

"Hey, could'ah been a whole lot worse than that. I'm Sam by the way. Nice to meet the both of ya', just wish it were under better circumstances."

He paused, the coppery tang of spilled blood hitting his nose, the wheezing breaths hitting his ears. Neither were a good sign. Sam was no doctor, but, he didn't need to be one to deduce that blade probably punched a hole through somewhere it really shouldn't have.

"Right." He said. "Ok. So I ain't used one of these in anger before, but, this ought'a help." With that he retrieved a small metallic canister from his pocket. It was grey and trapezoidal in shape, looking almost like a solid piece of featureless aluminium save for a medical cross emblazoned on its surface. He tapped on the side of it with a knuckle making a small ting sound before the strange box seemed to unfold itself with a hiss and a click. There was a brief pause, then what looked almost like a grid of blue-green lasers rapidly flittering and tracing over the stab wound.

He held it steady, even when the gob of spit landed mere feet from him gained only a flipped middle finger in retort rather than even a look the hare's way. Slowly, centimetre by centimetre the wound seemed to near painlessly fill in and seal as the strange medical device gave one last clunk and whirr before sealing back into its seemingly solid block form once again. "Now don't move around too much yet. I just patched it, yer still gonna need to get it checked out properly."

In all the excitement, all the drama, Sam had forgotten the cameras recording his every move, not to mention the room full of witnesses to what he just did. It didn't hit him until a few seconds after he put the now depleted kit back in his pocket. A brief snarl twitched his lip, a muttered "damnit" under his breath, played off with an excuse about how his knee hurt after that scuffle. That part weren't even a lie really.

He looked over when he heard another voice. Perfect. A distraction. Don't draw attention to it. He'd broken enough of Citadel's rules already today. "This makes sense to you? 'Cause I'm struggling to piece it together." His attention then turned to the would be attacker. "What was your endgame here, huh? Why'd you do it?"

There is much confusion as to what is going on, why it's happening, what Sam is doing, or why it's working as it is, but that doesn't stop the patched-up Pelan from filling in the gaps for the wolf the same way he did for him: "...he's a hybrid?" The hare snarls. Pelan wheezes loudly. "...all this time? All this time?!" The injured skunkvark coughs at the effort needed for the exclamation.

Shaking from anger, the hare trembles in place on the floor. "It's your fault. I was fine until YOU started getting near us; near ME." Pelan only recalls the one incident from many years back. They've long been adults since. "No matter where I turned in school, there you were. Filthy hybrid from filthy parents, sending their filthy germs to learn with the rest of us as if you were some kind of EQUAL?! And then you SAT. WITH. US. You made me have to beat sense into you and your blood- You got blood on me. YOU DID THIS. You MADE me like this. Like YOU!"

Hybrids are't contagious. They're purely genetic. Most know that. Maybe facts don't matter here.

"I came from PURE parents! ...came from p- pure. Blood. CLEAN BLOOD!"

For those that have experience on the street, among the wildest of hungry Carnivores committing the most awful of deeds, there are signs that are noticed that those not familiar with the Beasts on Beast Island might not keen. There's something different. The hare drools more. His pupils change size. His jaws get...bigger? By the time the changes might be noticeable, it's too late. The hare bares carnivorous teeth and herbivorous quickness lends to a blur of motion toward the wolf and the injured hybrid almost near the blink of an eye. Louis doesn't even have time to elicit a warning from his position behind the crowd.

BLAM!!

An ear-splitting crack shoots through the air and the hare tumbles from the charge to collapse into a weak writhing pile. People in the room yelp from the loud noise before they even know what it is.

Dolph lowers his smoking gun slightly, yet keeps it at the ready.

Sam was plenty quick to react himself. He stepped in front of the skunkvark, lips drawn back in an involuntary snarl as he readied himself for a second brawl. The wolf didn't seem to even flinch even at the borderline monstrous change in the hare's appearance, even with bigger teeth wild eyes and a lot of drool a crazed albeit disconcertingly fast man with big floppy ears didn't compare much to what the insectoid hives could spit out in terms of horror. He barely had the time to get himself back to his defensive stance though, not even getting halfway through shouting about a 'round two' mixed with a few choice curses mixed in before that gunshot rang out and the hybrid hit the ground.

"Huh." Sam likely breaking the silence with that one, still looking at the downed hybrid having tracked him all the way to the floor. "Nice shot." He stepped over, now kneeling down next to the hare though this time keeping a bit more distance than he did with Pelan. He took the time to try to assess the man's injuries before speaking up. He seemed to be still moving at least, that was probably a decent sign. "Yeah unfortunately for you, I used the only charge I had on guy you stuck. Now, are you gonna try and bite me if I try and stop you from bleeding out all over the floor? Surprisingly 'nough I don't particularly want to see anyone die here today if I can help it."

"It's just his hip," offers Dolph the Lion while lowering his gun and removing his finger from the trigger once Sam gets closer to the hare-brid. "Won't be standing to lurch, but he might still bite. Let the medics patch him up, I say." The crowd murmurs a bit, what handful of them are left remaining, until a voice from the back speaks up.

"If I didn't have the experience to know better, I'd say all you wolves are the same. You can't always be the hero." It's Louis. "Still, at the least we should all give...Sam, was it?...a round of applause for stepping in to protect our guest so quickly. We need more animals ready to step up to fight hate against equality."

The deer gives a polite clap, but soon many of the others chip in with their own applause, and Carnivores can be quite loud. Louis does stare a bit directly, but others do, too, in their own way. Still, from a distance it's hard to tell just how much politeness, gratitude, and scrutiny there are in mixed amounts. Oh, and the cameras are definitely still on.

Sam took a little longer to stand up, spending a few moments just to make sure that bullet hadn't severed an artery or anything more dramatic. With so much blood in the air already it was hard to get much of an indication save for a slightly disturbing realisation that humanoid hare blood smelled almost identical to the more mundane less evolved form he was familiar with. His ears and eyes still worked fine though. No large pools forming under him and no sound indicating such either. "Clean shot too. Expected more trouble with you hittin' him there." He got back to his feet, wincing slightly on that still bruised knee. "Hngth. Ow. Yeah better you shot him than me then, I don't think I'd have been so tidy."

It was at that point when he noticed all the cameras proper. He locked up for a moment, now that the immediate violence had stopped it actually gave chance for him to think what he just did through. His calls were right, no doubt, at least in his eyes yet that didn't change the fact that said calls revealed both his face, his name, and a piece of Citadel's advanced tech right there for all the press to see.

Crap.

Still in a way even behind all the cloak and dagger the wolf was still representing his home. His Citadel. Sure they don't know that name yet, but, he figured he might as well at least try to be a good face for it. "Ain't about being a 'hero'. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time with the tools to do the right thing, that's all."

The scrawny deer lifts a hand in gesture to get one of the camera operators to focus in on him as he picks up a wired microphone attached to a nearby stand that the dieticians could use for announcements. In his other hand, he's still holding his untouched juice. He would like to brush down his jacket and straightens his tie, but he has to make do with a professional, if mildly grim, smile at the camera. "This is Louis the Red Deer, CEO of Horns Conglomerate, reporting live from the Haku-to Center for City Governance. A hosted event to raise awareness for the mistreatment and bias against hybrid animal species has been interrupted by an individual wielding a sharp implement in order to attack one of our hybrid guests. Correspondence with local beast enforcement and medical emergency units is underway and help is en route to address those that are injured."

"Many of the attendees of the event have evacuated the premises while others have remained in an effort to assist with efforts to detain the attacker until enforcement arrives." A wider camera shot shows those still there. It seems that the deer in charge wants to give the media a comprehensive run down of the events that just happened and what to expect. This doesn't mean that others in the room are silent. Dolph closes in on the downed hare in order to keep a better eye on him. He is part of official security, after all.

"Pretty quick moves for a wolf," Dolph comments to Sam in being closer while his boss gives his little speech. "They teach you that in high school?" It's a rhetorical question, clearly.

Several trains of thought were simultaneously in the proverbial station. Sam's mind was racing. First and foremost was still the matter of drawing so much attention. With that, not to mention all the cameras, his aim of keeping a low profile was probably out of the question. The wolf backed off to the side slightly as Louis started to give his interview, attempting to get out of shot in order to let the deer grab the centre stage. Those lenses had seen enough of him already today he figured, though said shuffling off would have probably been a little more subtle had his still aching knee not protested the motion leading to a slight wince followed by a brief apologetic glance shot the camera's way.

Now standing next to Dolph and out of the direct focus he looked down at the hare again. Sam still couldn't quite make sense of it all. The rambling on blood and purity with so much venom behind those words almost certainly indicated dark things about this society. Sam was just hoping that wasn't a common viewpoint and more of a single madman.

He was still trying to figure out just how he was going to word it when Dolph spoke up. He gave a slightly sharper nose exhale, a slight smile now on his face as he looked back towards him. "Not exactly high school, naw." he said, stretching his leg a little in an attempt to free it up a bit more. Still no dice. Hare people hybrids kicked hard. Who'd have guessed? "Learnt through experience, I guess."

"And just what kind of experience might that be?" follows up the lion with a pretty solid stare. Those eyes of his show his fair share of personal experience, too. For a lion guy, he looks to be in his early thirties, but that X-shaped scar over his face shows signs of fading from time and age. The question asked could probably be asked of him, too.

"...so matter the obstacle before us as a people and a nation, no amount of effort is too great in the fight for equality, and continue the fight we will, but all any of us really want is just peace and co-existence. An existence together that isn't just possible, but worth it! Thank you, but stay tuned as we keep the broadcast going for any further updates."

Miguel chimes in when Louis finishes and puts away the microphone, "Hey, in the end, most everyone is okay. That's worth a celebration! Plum brandy shots would do, don't you think, boss?"

"Miguel, there are two injured beasts over there on the stage," the small deer retorts.

"Sure, but the anteater hybrid-"

"Pelan."

"But the anteater hybrid Pelan is gonna get better and we'll just have to have a round of drinks again."

Louis touches his forehead while his ear flicks rapidly. These lions... With a sigh, Louis shrugs. "Fine, but just this once. Drinks are on me, everyone here is invited." That means Sam, too. However, from behind the counter, a figure rises up from behind it. It's the dietician from before, only he's wearing a gas mask?

"I couldn't have said it better myself!" The beast swings an arm upward and back, something glass-like and shiny in hand, in an effort to fastball it right against the young CEO's unprotected back. The risk of revealing too much again crossed Sam's mind. He settled for a short and simple "Mostly bad ones", his tone as level, even and perhaps even nonchalant as he could possibly make it sound despite the adrenaline still thumping through his veins and the lion giving that long stare down at him, something the wolf didn't seem to flinch at at all.

He was just turning back to look towards Louis, probably with some sort of comment in mind about the cameras loving the man when he saw the figure behind. Mask. Weapon. Or at least what he presumed to be one. It was too far to charge in. Even at a full sprint it would have taken precious seconds to close that gap even if the counter wasn't in his way. He instead called out a warning, hoping that the members of the security team closer to the action would at least be able to deflect whatever that was coming for the deer!

So much sensory input injected into the sudden situation seems to make time itself slow for some of the animals involved. Heads turn as Sam's outcry of warning draws focus onto the unseen beast now reappeared. Dolph barely has a line of sight from his position and his eyes can only slightly widen. Miguel reaches out to shove somebody aside with one arm as his other hand brings up his own firearm, but from his angle Louis almost directly covers the image of the gas mask-wearing individual behind. Miguel's mouth shapes booming words that echo what Sam has said, but the definition of those words are lost top the sound of blood rushing in the ears to Louis.

Louis' ears swivel and his head turns, before his body can begin to react in dropping posture in a well-practiced effort to lower his position before trying to move, yet he doesn't even have time to fully see the obscured face of the new attacker before something impacts with his back.

The glass ampoule shatters.

At first, it's hard to tell, for Louis, if the wetness that immediately splatters and seeps into his jacket is his own blood as he stumbles forward, but when his nose smells it he realizes it's not his blood at all. A crack of gunfire reports and the deer barely registers the fast sound that whips by his antlers. Behind him, the figure has already begun to take cover to dash away. The bullet misses and debris from the plaster of the wall sprays outward to join the droplets and glass shards midair.

Sam's first thoughts were that this must have been nerve gas. If it was, there was a good chance that at this distance he was already walking dead. It struck him as a little odd that this terrorist wore only a mask if it was though. No CBRN gear, no large rebreather, perhaps it wasn't something so immediately lethal. Either that or the assailant didn't really care too much about getting out of this alive in the first place.

Sam reached for his weapon, pulling out a fairly sizeable revolver from a low profile magnetic holster concealed within his jacket. It was solid matte black in colour, its frame sharp angular and blocky. The wolf barely had time to line up a shot at the fleeing figure, something made harder still by all the movement, care needed to avoid tagging a civilian in the crossfire and the whirlwind of dust kicked into the air by Louis' security team's gunfire, but when he did his weapon's report was not that of a crack like the others but instead a deeper bassier echoing *boom*, followed closely by a considerable orange-yellow flash from its polygonally rifled barrel.

An olfactory shockwave spreads throughout the room with Louis at the center. Each Carnivore and Carnivore Hybrid in the room that each smell it experience something very similar. It's like an electric shock traveling from the nose to the brain where it spiderwebs outward to jump start idle or unused biological processes. Heightened sight and smell, excessive salivation, and increased appetite are the first to hit. For many, bodily changes follow that compliment this shift: larger jaws, longer claws, and even, in some cases, a bulking of muscle mass and tone.

The look on the faces of those experiencing this are a mix of confusion, horror, realization, and ecstasy. They feel their bodies betraying them, can feel their focus of thought shifting to something singular, it feels oh-so-good and yet they don't want it. Even Dolph and Miguel, despite their experiences and professional and emotional loyalties, are not immune to this powerful scent.

Debilitated, Dolph stumbles to the door leading out the side room and opens it enough to growl a loud command for anyone there, including Hartford, to run. The gazelle in the room has enough sense to flee through this door, as well, before Dolph slams it shit and falls back against it, slumping to the stage floor, watching his hands helplessly.

Pelan and the Hare and Setsu and Donna all also have their own reactions, even despite injuries (risking bodily exhaustion because of it), which provides a sudden shifting of the world around Sam. It's not just the Hare Hybrid after all. But why? The smell is intoxicatingly enticing, like the best restaurant smell ever experience ramped up to eleven. On the surface, it doesn't feel much deeper than that, yet the force of such a smell is beyond compelling. It's commanding.

The cameras do not broadcast the extent of this disaster. As the operators succumb, the cameras fall from focus and drift to point at nothing. Only the sounds picked up by the active microphones kick in.

Miguel has the presence to reach out as Louis, now in extreme physical danger and clambering to make it to the double doors out behind where Miguel stands, to grab and pull the deer through the opening, though not without his exaggerated claws cutting through the fabric of the suit; Louis' antlers scrape and cut at Miguel in turn through this awkward and desperate exchange. No simple fancy double doors would hold back the force of the tide welling up the moment the mental dams within the ballroom burst. Even worse, the backup generator for the building will only last for so long. The lights are dimmer and faintly flickering. For Carnivores and the like, this is not a problem. For others, however...

The first thing Sam noticed was the lights. Things got brighter. Colours grew more vivid. His other senses too, hearing, smell, touch. He could feel his heart pounding far too fast in his chest, something that would have been alarming had he still had the mental wherewithal to even consciously take note of it. At this point he was reacting more than anything, moving, shouting, ushering or even in some cases outright dragging as many people as he could to the safety of that nearest exit without even thinking.

By the time he had noticed that Dolph had now shut those backstage doors, Sam had found himself in the middle of the room. People were twisting. Mutating. He couldn't tell whether he was or not along with them. He didn't suppose it mattered too much at this point. He gave another shout as the lights flickered again, calling for anyone who still had the sense to hear to get behind him. To follow him as he made his way to where Louis and Miguel were.

He shouted to the lion, something that he was pretty sure was along the lines of how he was going to get these people, and Louis, to safety. That being said, whether he was listened to or not, he was going for that damn door. Whatever was in the air, whatever it had done to him, though clearly from the outside it had not frenzied him or sent him mad in the same way his body seemingly wasn't holding anything back anymore. Sprains, strains, torn muscles or even worse be damned, he was going to be shoving that lion either through with them or out of the way if he didn't step aside. Or at least, would try anyhow.

Miguel is a strong lion. Easily the muscle of Louis' Lions. Much like Dolph, he's trying to block others from getting out that pose a danger. Anyone in the room is capable of attacking and devouring any Herbivores outside. However, he's just one lion losing his own senses trying to blockade a set of double doors. He presses his back to them, breathing heavily, increasingly hard to 'see' for the blood pumping through his veins. All those animals.

Wait. He has a gun. His murder mitts hold the pistol with some ferocity and he lifts it, to threaten to keep people away from the doors, inside. Those beasts, though. They're innocent. They didn't choose this. To gun them down now... Should he- Should he use it on himself? He can feel the draw. The need. He can smell deer blood mixed in with the cocktail in the air. The doors are closed, but he can smell which way Louis went.

A wolf approaches him with determination. Why wasn't this Carnivore changing? Why did he want to open the way out? "You- DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THEY'LL EAT THE BOSS?" he snarls before throwing his head back to slam against the doors, eyes rolling upward. The whole room is seconds away from a feeding frenzy and only one Herbivore was left behind to leave a convenient trail. He can't let them. He can't. He can't.

The moment those doors open, it'll be a true race against time and the main course only has a shaky head start.

Sam's head was pounding, ears ringing, though being stopped at the door by a lion with a gun in his hands did wonders for snapping even the most muddled chemical flooded mind back to attention. The wolf had holstered his own weapon by this point though in the frantic nature of it the maglocks hadn't quite aligned it flush against his body, the revolver leaving a visible bulge in the fall of his jacket now.

He didn't quite hear what the lion said. Eat the boss? Was that metaphor, or with everyone lurching around, salivating, could that even be literal? He took another step, hands in front of him to show that he had no weapon in them.

"Hey! HEY! Look at me! That ain't gonna happen and I'm gonna make sure of it!" His vision swam in front of his eyes for a moment. "Whatever this is doin', it ain't doing it to me! I'll find him, get him out, and block the door from the other side! Gimme a crack to squeeze through! I ain't letting anyone past!"

Behind the pair, the full extent of the Meat Frenzy is kicking in. And Miguel? Miguel has just enough control left to note the difference in the wolf not having the same reaction. Perhaps the wolf is a hybrid, too, that has enough Herbivore genetics to be somewhat more in control. He quickly nods and allows Sam a chance to slip by, but it has to be quick. He's already pushing back at the others closing in to follow. The last thing Sam might see before exiting is a single tear running down Miguel's face. The first thing he hears on the other side after Miguel has shut the door again is a couple of gunshots.

The hall outside is devoid of animals. The sounds of violence heralded by the vacating Herbivores likely was plenty warning to get out. One way leads to a quicker escape through the front while the other direction would wind toward the back of the building, eventually meet up with the hall leading from the side door of the ballroom, and then lead toward the back where parking is located. Benches and plants and paintings decorate the paths either way and a few vending machines offer canned juices, snacks, and even a few random necessities for personal hygiene. But which way did the deer go?

Why, that's easy to tell.

Super easy.

The scent trail is like a neon glowing pink cloud leading down the hall headed toward the back where the parking lot is.

Sam indeed moved quickly! He backed out of the door, making sure he had any gaps well and truly covered with that larger and imposing black revolver in hand to dissuade anyone trying to rush past. He didn't say anything else to the lion, just a quick nod, then as soon as he got past the threshold he got to work. It wouldn't be much of a barricade, he couldn't tell how much the others had their strength enhanced but if his was enough to shove vending machines into position for a makeshift block he could only assume the others at least could match it. Still. It was a few more seconds. Every one of those was going to count.

He was cautious as he moved, tracking and heading towards the scent as fast as he could yet still checking his corners, making sure nothing was either going to jump out at him or that he was about to run into an ambush. Plus maybe moving a bit more tactically rather than breaking into a sprint'd at least let any bystanders know that he hadn't gone insane.

It was at that point he noticed a fire panel on the wall. Sprinkler systems. Alarms. The latter could help make people evacuate that much quicker, the former though was of even more interest. Whatever chemical was used, whatever agent, whatever weapon, it was gas based. It was hanging in the air. Throw enough water up and it might force it down to the ground so it couldn't hurt anyone else. He slammed his fist through the glass plate, likely landing a good dent in the wall behind it in the process, flinching as the loud klaxons started assaulting his ears.

He had to continue. Even with all that water tracking the deer'd still be a trivial matter. He must be getting closer by now.

Sam barely has time to follow down the hallway when the inevitable happens. The lights flicker, dim, dim more, then cut completely. The darkened halls and rooms now only get the occasional blip of light as water sprays and alarms scream due to the industrial battery system that powers them.



Moments before, while Sam was still reacting to the initial release, Louis was pulled then shoved out through a door in his bid to escape the danger area. His head jerked as his antlers caught on the way out and Miguel's claws had shredded through his suit jacket, waistcoat, and dress shirt with ease leaving him with a few new bloody marks. At first, there was a moment where he expected Miguel to follow, but that didn't happen. Staring at the closed door for a moment, the deer's mind raced. He couldn't stand still, but what should he do? Where should he go? He looks to the direction of the main entrance and takes a few steps, but pauses, looks around, and instead turns back the other way. If he gets to the company car, he can safely get somewhere isolated.

Step-clack step-clack, his unique footsteps echo down the emptied hall as he sprints to the best of his ability,rounds a few turns, takes a wrong turn once or twice, and has to backtrack down one hall at least once to find the way out. He doesn't know the building well enough to navigate in such a hurry and the current matters of stress don't much help. The dull sound of a few gunshots are heard somewhere else in the building; his pulse begins to race even higher. Turning once more, Louis stops in his tracks. A Carnivore beats against the door leading out to the back lot in a frenzy, but the door doesn't open. Wasn't that one of the attendees?

Suddenly, alarms cut on and water sprays and the Carnivore that somehow got ahead of him begins to look around. In a dash to stay unseen, Louis picks one of the few doors nearby, tries the handle, finds it unlocked and slips inside...just after one last action to help divert attention away. Just in time before the power fails, too.



Somewhere, back behind Sam's chosen path to track down the Horns CEO, the beating on the blocked door continues, but for how long will it last?

The wolf was soaked through by this point. The cold water had done well to shock his system back to its senses, though to say Sam was still unnaturally far more wired than he should have been was an understatement. His heart still thudded in his chest, his mouth was dry, and his hands still holding on to his weapon, albeit lowered by this point, shook no matter how much he tried to steady them. The sprinklers and alarms made his hearing unreliable, but even after the frying it took earlier his nose was still as sharp as ever.

He paused, nose in the air for a moment as he tried to trace the scent again. It was still clear, though the strange chemicals still lingering on the deer's clothes weren't losing their strange effect. Venison, that part was from the nick he'd taken from the lion's claws earlier no doubt, the hare's blood from earlier also smelled kind of like that of the conventional non sapient kind, but that peppercorn sauce it was seemingly paired with Sam was fairly certain just a trick of the mind.

Especially as the next sniff it started smelling more like barbeque.

"Hey!" He called out, stacked up against the side of the door that he was at least fairly convinced the deer was behind. Realising that shouting probably wasn't the best idea to someone already so alarmed, not to mention probably expecting shouting madmen, he lowered his tone a little. "Don't worry, just the guy who saved that anteater earlier. Figured I'd make it a twofer."

There's no response. Not at first. Instead, the smell seems to be muddled in this hall. Part of it is the sprinkler system. Another part of it is the fact that Louis' suit coat isn't on him. That's because it's in the claws of one of the two Carnivores already in the hallway. One is larger, some kind of panther. Another is much smaller: perhaps a lynx. Having sniffed and licked and gnawed through the expertly woven threads for every bit of that enticing sauce, the coat is barely recognizable. Worse is that the two Carnivores present are ones that Sam helped evacuate through the side door. There are no immediate signs of the stag or gazelle. Some of the nearby doors are opened. A few busted up. The exit door almost looks mangled, but it still hasn't opened outward yet. Sturdy door? Or is something blocking it from outside?

It's probably not the best idea to try coaxing the deer out of hiding with danger still about, but thankfully they don't seem that interested in attacking Sam. Or each other. Somewhere, near the other end of the building, the banging comes to an end and a chorus of hungry beasts fills the halls. Also heard, somewhere outside, are the closing in of sirens.

Either Sam needs to take them down or find a way to lure them away or trap them before the rest of the crowd shows up. There's a powered down cluster of vending machines nearby offering snacks and silver vine drinks. There's a cluster of loose power cables shaken loose near the exit door that seem to be part of the fire alert system. Lastly, there's a utility door marked with stairs that 'might' lead to a section of the roof.

Sam sighed. He really thought that was smooth. He paused, both hoping that his dark fur against a the poorly lit background'd make him harder to spot if he did, and trying to regain track of that scent once again. The latter wasn't working. The majority of those chemicals had landed on the coat after all and it was blowing out almost everything else. He'd have to get closer, something that the two maddened cats in the way weren't exactly going to make easy. Sure. They hadn't gone after him yet, but, he wasn't exactly keen to test his luck.

Sam checked his surroundings. Power cables, presumably live and water. Not exactly a great combination. Perhaps useable in defence, but, it would surely be no less lethal than his magnum, and far more likely to harm him just as much. Not an option he wanted to take unless he had to.

A vending machine. Marked with 'silvervine'.

He'd heard of this. First day he was here Sam'd been blasted with adverts. Something about felines. He wasn't really listening of course but it sounded a bit like catnip in how it worked. Worth a shot. Not like there was anyone around to get mad at him smashing open the glass front of a vending machine at this point, though the racket it made was far from subtle.

He grabbed a couple cans, tossed them up and down to check the weight, and then went to put a hole through the side of one with a canine. In his head, the spray'd be more controllable. Spread out the smell of whatever it was, have it all pool in a specific spot. Instead it just shot straight into his face. He let out a loud "BLAGH!", spluttering as he almost dropped the can. The next one he simply decided to shake up and open the normal way instead, tossing them both so they first slammed against a wall and landed a good ways behind the cats!

From there, it was time to investigate the possible paths. At the very least that had gotten the strange chemicals out of his nose. Roof access probably wasn't a good idea, he'd be cornered, though he still raised his nose to try and track it. Then he turned to that thick exit door. Another sniff. Did he go this way?

First one can splats against the door of an office off the side of the hall, then the other, perhaps lending to a fool's hope that sapient, if frenzied, cat people would be so distracted by a refreshing cold drink or two that they'd break off their hunt for the deer. It's the lynx that investigates first while the panther stares dumbly, if not angrily, toward Sam the longer he hangs about. From inside the office there's a crash of furniture soon thereafter. Ears swiveling, the scent of the plant-infused drink finally reaches where the dwindling 'other' smell takes such hold. The larger cat follows, probably offering a good time to try shutting the door, coupled by the fact that the two cats sound like they begin fighting over the leaking cans.

Given the chance and opportunity, at least temporarily cleared of potential dangers, the exit door can get a closer examination. There is, in fact, a vehicle just beyond the door keeping it from swinging outward. The door is ever so slightly open, so a skilled nose or ear could detect that there are a few animals outside, in the lot, not far behind the large car. The deer is probably holed up somewhere in that hall -- Sam's nose seems to think it's the utility closet -- but probably isn't going to risk responding if it draws danger. If he knew better, he might be more likely to show himself. As for the car; well, somebody put it there.

First thing's first, Sam was going to go ahead and close that door, pausing only to flip the pair of cats a double bird as he did so. Also lock and or barricade the thing if it was all possible. Much of the crazy had already worn off so he didn't feel like flipping any more vending machines, just jamming whatever heavy furniture he could find in a nice big pile'd have to do for now. He was about to head on back to that utility closest when he paused, looking at one of the scraps of jacket on the floor. He pulled out his 'phone', held it up, and tried to get a decent scan. There was something coming up, but, not anything the wolf could make heads or tails of. Raw data that Citadel would no doubt have to spend weeks working through just to figure out the basics.

Getting it so drenched probably didn't help either. Then again, making sure that stuff was out of the air and not flying into the vents was a bigger priority.

His voice was much lower than last time when he again found himself stacked up against the side of that utility closet door. It'd also lost most of the attitude. Much more genuine than Sam's attempt to sound 'cool' before. "Listen if you're in there, the hallway's clear. For now. I said to one of your lion buddies that I'd get you out, and I ain't planning on becoming a liar today. You got an evac plan?"

There's a heaving sound, deer grunting, as something inside the room is shifted to the side. Seems moving furniture around is the secret word of the day. It takes a moment, the door handle turns and the door opens, only to catch on something, so the door shuts again, something else is struggled with, and the door finally opens again. All the way.

A very soaked-through and shivering deer stands there with a miserable appearance despite his measured stare. "You again." Arms clutching his own form to retain as much heat as he can, the deer 'still' looks both ways up and down the hall to make sure nothing is there to ambush him. Once he sees it appears to be clear, the deer begins to walk past the wolf toward the exit door. "All right, ...Sam Twofer. We get out of here first and then you can tell me why you aren't trying to kill me instead."

Of course, the door is blocked. "Ah, mother fucker!" A far less powerful fist beats on the door now. "Who the hell parked in front of the door, are you trying to get animals killed?" Another crash of furniture from not too far away, from behind a crudely blocked door leading into an office, gives Louis pause. He looks between Sam and the office door.

"Did you hear that?" asks somebody from outside.

"Hello?" asks another.

Louis violently shakes from the wet chill and his teeth begin to chatter. He really can't handle being cold well at all.

Sam was looking plenty soaked through and bedraggled himself, though definitely of a species more suited for the cold. Little bit of rain never stopped a wolf after all, even if that rain had been indoors in this case. "Me again." He said, managing a smile despite it all, though that dropped just a little when Louis brought up the whole 'why you aren't trying to kill me thing' part. "Why would I do that?"

Sam flinched at the noise, ears folding back for a moment. "Yeaaah, I should'a used more silvervine, 'cos wow those are some pissed off kitty cats in that office there. I think they liked your jacket by the way. Or hated it. Hard to tell. Right. Door" He landed a much more forceful blow down against it, yelling at those outside likely a fair bit louder than Louis did. "Move the damn car! We're trapped in here!"

"Something happened in there. A Carnivore tried to attack me. Us. I used the car to block the door." As if it weren't obvious enough. Really.

Louis narrows his eyes in great annoyance. He knows that voice. He attempts to raise his voice, too. "Yes, now let us out by moving the damned car or I'm going to dock your pay! ...the things I'm ready to do with a can of silvervine drink myself, Sam..."

The stag named Hartford jolts in surprise. "Mister Louis?! Right away, sir." Louis passes a look to Sam close to that of a disappointed father. "I just need to get my keys out, and then..." A door opens and the engine starts.

"...wait, did he just say 'his' keys?" the deer asks of the wolf. Louis widens his eyes in realization just as the car pulls forward with a nasty scraping sound, half pulling the exit door off its hinges from its previous abuse, leaving the way out to swing awkwardly open. "Your company car?!" Louis cries out as he hurries through the door, arms raising, seeing the terrible damage far beyond just the paint.

Behind Sam and Louis' getaway, at the other end of the hall, the crowd of frenzied Carnivores have finally caught up. Louis is distracted and chilled and doesn't notice in order to say anything.

"Something happened in the-" Sam cut himself off, his mouth hanging open a little for a moment. "You kidding me? Yeah and that *something* is gonna happen to the both of us if you don't move out of the damn way!" He stepped back a little ways, firstly so that maybe he'd be able to keep them back further at best or buy a little time at worst should any more of those carnivores show up and secondly to give the deer a little bit more space. The look he returned wasn't quite the same, there was more exasperation than disappointment in his case. "This fuckin' guy. Argh, 'least he's moving it *now*. Took him long enough."

"Keys? Yeah, yeah I think he di-" The sound of footsteps cut him off. Lots of them, all with fast, frantic, almost uneven gaits. Sam's ears swiveled one after the other locking in on that sound even before the blood frenzied crowd rounded the hallway, just catching the first of them out the corner of his eye. "Aw hell! We got bigger problems comin' at us fast!" He followed closely behind, stepping out backwards and slamming what was left of the door shut behind him, or, at least as close to it as he could make it. "We're gonna need that car back or somethin' even heavier! Dunno how many but I just saw a *whole* lot runnin' up!"

The larger stag looks into his rear-view mirror as he pulls forward to clear the way and is visibly relieved to see Mister Louis step out, along with a Carnivore? Instead, however, this wolf pushes the door shut, for as much as it can and with great metallic complaining from the damaged frame and hinges, and widens his own eyes a bit as Sam calls out to back the car back into place again.

Louis seconds this motion as he has his attention drawn to see the same mess, or as much as he can through the one-hinged diagonally hanging door, rapidly backing out of the way. "You heard the wolf: block the door!" Hartford puts the car into reverse and starts to back up, but a damaged fender from the scraping against the building catches in the wheel well, turns into a bad angle, and begins a horrible grinding sound that leads to a pop, smoke, and eventual sparks! With effort and more damage, the car bumps into the brick of the building once more as it messily forces itself into place.

A familiar banging resumes. Louis half-collapses onto his butt right there on the lot to leave a moist mark with his wet form, while exhaling in exhaustion. Hartford quickly exits the car with a startled yelp, especially as a clawed hand reaches through a gap in the door through the now busted left-hand (passenger's) window, and looks to Sam in bewilderment.

The wolf shoved back against the door as hard as he could manage, trying to force it back as far into its frame as possible! He barely had room enough to get clear himself, tucking and rolling just as the vehicle slammed down hard against where he was standing just a second ago! Sam landed in a rough halfway sitting position, able to do little more than stare up at the chaos unfolding right there in front of him. He stayed there for a moment trying to catch his breath. His lungs felt ragged in his chest, his heart pounding. Whether that was an after effect of the chemical attack or just that of a more natural outcome of the day's events he wasn't exactly sure.

His vision swam in front of his eyes for a moment, tunneling in on the edges. He could feel his body screaming at him now, his muscles feeling like he'd run every single one of them raw. With another curse muttered under his breath the wolf let himself collapse backwards onto the pavement as he simply tried to focus on controlling his breathing. In. And out. Slow. Steady. The only move he made for the next half-minute or so apart from that was a raised thumbs up to that driver. He couldn't tell what that look was right now. Concern? Confusion? Perhaps a bit of both? He hoped the gesture'd suffice in either case.

He soon had himself propped back up on his elbows as he looked towards Louis. First as a quick double check to make sure no one had taken a chunk out of him during the escape, and second, well.

He had some *questions* after that one. The trickiest part was even thinking up where to start. He figured he'd just shoot off several at once. "what the hell even happened back there? What did that guy in the mask do to them? How?" A pause. Then another question. This time in a more gentle tone than the others. "You uh, are you OK? Probably should'a led with that one."

Louis sits there for the moment, plenty of different trains of thought running through his head, trying to logic anything that just happened. He presses a hand to his forehead and quietly thinks. At least, outside, the sound of the fire alarm is duller, even if it's offset by the sirens of beast enforcement and medical on the other side of the building. Only a matter of time until they show up and discover them so long as they just sit there and wait. "I'm..." Louis begins with a raise of his shoulders, only to slump them again as he adds, "Unsure."

Hartford takes off his own coat and drapes it around the shoulders of his shivering boss, but has little to add. He's still trying to catch himself up on everything that just happened. Louis wearily looks at the car and the door and building beyond. "That's not normal. You know. Meat drunkenness doesn't make them so mindless. A Carnivore that desperate for meat would have already found the stairs up or a window by now." They are in no way trapped inside, after all. Not really. The scrawny deer pulls his knees up and rests his head against them sidelong, staring over at Sam in the process. "Why weren't you affected like them? No cravings? General alertness? Clearly it made you more bold if you're spouting 'twofer' lines as a first choice." It might be hard to tell if that last line is meant to be harsh AND funny or just harsh. Tiredness wipes away any potential for humor in his current expression.

Sam looked drained. Exhausted even. Like a man who had gone without sleep for days only to have been forced to run a triathlon after. His replies had become slower, as if the wolf was having to take time to even register what was being said. "Guess I'm built different." Came his first answer when he spoke again. Though it didn't take him much longer than that to give something a little more concrete. "Everything smelled real weird. Felt weird too. Dunno how to describe it but, I ain't ever been wired like that before. Was uh, felt like I was panicking almost but I-I wasn't. I just kept going. Did what I had to do." He tried to move, to sit a little more upright, though a stabbing pain in his head, churning in his gut and vision blurring at the corners forced him to reconsider. "Argh. Gone and done now though, just feels like there's an ice pick lodged in my eye now."

The 'twofer' comment actually got something almost close to laughter out of Sam, albeit briefly, and more just a sharper exhale than anything else. The idea of letting out a proper one didn't appeal, not when he was in such a state as this already. "Not gonna live that one down, am I? Yeah well, was just the first thing that popped into my head. I didn't have neither the time nor the faculties to think of anythin' better. Brain was burning. Sorry that savin' yer damn life didn't come with wittier repartee."

"It's not my life I'm worried about right now, though, to be curt. It's the lives of the animals in there. Or the animals that were watching. It really pisses me off to think some watched with hope only to now be confused and scared. Terrified. But..."

Louis adjusts his prosthetic leg before making the effort to push back up onto his feet. "That's why they call it terrorism, and... I'm damn sure not going to take this without a powerful pushback." The deer walks closer to the car and leans in to peer through the gaps at those affected. He might even catch a glimpse of familiar eyes.

"I hope they get better. Soon. We need a message of resilience." A thoughtful frown rests upon the deer's face. "You had to leave Dolph and Miguel behind in the mess, then? Miguel was the lion that pushed me out." A hand moves to the sore scratches on his shoulder. It's clear that those of the security detail mean more to him than just hired help.

"Didn't have much of a choice. They were both halfway turned. Like a cheesy horror movie or summin'. Miguel. That was the one I made that promise to get you out to." He made another attempt to get back to standing, this time at least getting partially there, back up to a half slumped over kneeling position before his body's protests halted him in his tracks again. "

"Whoever did this. They weren't looking to just kill people. If they were that'd been a nerve agent in that tube and we'd both be long gone. They wanted somethin' real flashy instead. This was a statement." He reached out, hand thunking against the body of the car as he tried to haul himself back up. This time he managed it, albeit, shakily. "Guh, fffu- Hokay'. Not gonna puke at least. That's good. That's real good." It took him a little to continue, a moment taken to catch his breath again. "Doin' this'd take resources. A will. Tight planning. You pissed off anyone that'd fit that bill?"

He too was looking over towards the door by this point. From his angle he could see far less, hands reaching out, maybe the occasional eyeshine in the darkness. "It wore off on me already and they ain't trying to kill *eachother* in there so, as long as nothing else happens, right? I ain't run into anything like this before."

"Neither have I. Not exactly like this. There are plenty that don't like my progressive influence. Many that have their own resources. I can fancy a guess, but guesses won't help anybody right now. We need facts. I'll offer to help fund some forensic study on whatever hasn't washed away. Gizou Medical might be able to do some quick lab work, maybe see a lead to follow in a few weeks. Blood work on the victims in there, too. Hopefully this is one and done and not something...more permanent."

Ear flicking twice, Louis turns away rubbing at his temple. Off to one side, flashlight beams sweep around the lot and footsteps herald the approach of other people. "Mister Louis, sir. Enforcers are here," informs Hartford who turns away to wave them down, walking in their direction.

"Might need to do some bloodwork on you, too. If you're somewhat immune to whatever that was, it may help create a treatment. Or, even better, a preventative measure." Louis says this as he walks over to Sam to look up at him, perhaps in order to gauge his reaction. Despite his tiredness and physical misery, his large eyes show only determination.

Sam's thoughts turned back to the chemanalysis scan he took on his disguised datapad. Even he could tell that scrap of clothing the cat people were chewing on still reeked of it even through the deluge, and as sharp as his nose was, 56th century sensors were vastly more finely tuned than even the absolute best any biology could muster. On the flipside though, revealing that data, especially its source, that would be even more telling than the glittertech trauma kit he used to patch the anteater back together.

He looked towards the incoming police. Hartford seemed to have them distracted at the very least. Sam had used his technology in front of cameras, had clearly, albeit with the best intentions already interfered far beyond what the rules allowed. The die was already cast.

Citadel couldn't remove his Nomad certification twice.

He pulled out his 'phone', fortunately undamaged by all the indoor rain and waited until nobody but the deer was looking. Sam placed his palm on its screen and slid it across, a hologram flickering to life above it, floating a few inches in the air. "Might have something a little more advanced than your forensic team. Not that sendin' them out still ain't the right call. I'll make this data available to you, just, don't say where it came from."

The holodisplay showed a 3D image of Louis' tattered suit jacket, a few sections highlighted with a long list of chemical compounds. Some were clearly just from the environment, others still were more likely the base materials itself, but some were no doubt more anomalous. "It's still cookin'and this ain't a specialised chem sniffer, but I'm pretty sure it'll get somethin' at least. Especially given how much that crap reeked."

With that, he slid his palm back over, the hologram fading as if it were never there and the only thing in his hand was a standard nondescript smartphone. "If bloodwork helps too, then go ahead. I ain't got no objections, especially if it helps counter whatever the hell this all was about."

Louis' eyes lower from Sam's face to the device so handheld. His eyes show an amount of surprise amid the private glow of the hologram, but it very quickly fades into a business tone upon that piece of the puzzle fully clicking into place. He listens, though, and watches to what is shown. When all is said and done and the offer for bloodwork is given, the small deer crosses his arms. "It might help, but not in the way I was hoping." There's a knowing glimmer in those expressive eyes.

Louis has traveled abroad. He's seen many things, invested in a few, but left most back where it originates. Sure, beasts have advanced palmtop devices that can call people or send wireless information, but with the current state of the nation and the almost nonexistent governing body or military force it's always been a wonder if, in spite of everything else in the mechanical-technological realm the beasts consider modern, the near anachronism of such advanced electronics came from outside influence or were backwards engineered from something a visitor left behind. He knows the entire breadth of technological advances his people are capable of...and this is beyond that scope. Therein...

Sam isn't a local. Sam isn't even a Carnivore, in the domestic sense. That explains so much.

Louis doesn't question it. Instead, he replies with a question of his own that might seem a bit unrelated: "Do you have identification that won't have enforcement wanting to cart you to the local office for questions? Or are we going to break even with me bailing you out...here in the next few seconds?"

Hartford and the officials are walking over.


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