January 25, 1981
Only two days before Superbowl Sunday, the pack came across Mugabe’s scent while visiting Accountable Automotive for Jules’ gift to the sept. While Jules kept Obi occupied, Cleo stepped into the garage to confront Juno, who they expected happened to be this Aktu, or matriarch Mugabe had mentioned. The conversation was heated nearly to the point of blows being exchanged before Nico and Waffles intervened.
Juno accused the pack of assaulting one of her ‘boys,’ and returning to finish the job. She stated he had done nothing against any of her people’s laws, but also showed no sign of knowing about or believing the foul acts he had performed with children in the basement of MS-13’s brothel. In the end, she stated that if the pack could bring her proof, she would act on it.
Wanting to check on their homestead, the pack returned to the Lighthouse to check up on the kids. As soon as they arrived they discovered something was wrong, with their front door kicked open and their home ransacked by something with thick claws. Sounds from the lighthouse itself brought them running, only to find Mugabe in his hyena variant of crinos form up at the top. With a sneer, he shattered the spiral stairway they were climbing up, counting on that giving him the time he needed to kill off the witnesses. Instead, the pack used claws and teeth to climb their way up before he could finish the deed, ending with him being tossed down the full height of the lighthouse.
Unconscious but still alive, the Ajaba was bound in chains and watched over as Nico contacted Juno, calling her over to witness his deeds. Though it was clear she wasn’t pleased about any of it, she assented to the pack’s justice on the matter, insisting only that she watch while the deed was done. After his death, she took his severed head and returned home.
The day of the Superbowl, Jules experienced a powerfully vivid dream of a severed human arm pushing up from beneath a city street, only to be descended upon and devoured by diseased rats. Though it cast a pallor on his tribal holiday, he was nonetheless determined to enjoy himself.
The Sept of the Green had pulled out all the stops for their yearly festivity, pulling every string possible to ensure they would remain undisturbed despite the countless noise violations doubtlessly rolling in. Largely Bone Gnawer in attendance, there were still a good smattering of other tribes present as gifts were shared, and for once the Gnawer Kin could fill their bellies and then some. The pack even had the pleasure of meeting with the New York City Father and his son Hampton, whom he asked to be taken in during an upcoming trip to their territory.
Soon after Jules was taken aside by Graveseeker to discuss matters of the Raven Coffee Co expanding into an actual music venue and also the theurge’s disconcerting premonition that something dire now faced Mother Larissa, Nico discovered himself being insulted and disrespected by Aeschylus in front of his pack, the Bastards of Fenris. He challenged Nico for Chiroptera’s Claw and very nearly won the resulting duel of klaive versus bat with silvered nails, only to fall into a frenzy under the disapproval of the crowd despite his martial prowess.
Most of the Sept began to gather around Cherry Hill, readied to watch the game on a veritable sail of stitched-together sheets and a projector, but first there was the matter of the Moot. With the Feast of Fools coming into play, the highest ranked Garou became the lowest, and vice-versa. For Timone in particular, it was a happy day. He was proclaimed Wyrmfoe, and afforded the highest honors for the first time in his life, even if it WAS as part of the joking tradition alone.
As the youngest pack of the Sept, the Wolves of Montauk found themselves serving as the highest rank for the night, officiating over the moot’s positions and doing well enough to have their elders discussing possible positions once they grew into it. Just before the game, a hat was passed around for each member of the Sept to toss something small but modestly valuable inside. Amazingly, it never filled to the brim even after the last person added their comic book or change or CD. Instead it became a talen and a prize for whomever closest guessed the winning score of the Big Game.
After kickoff, most of the pack descended into the sewers to explore what the Sept called ‘block parties’ – underground festivities held by Ratkin, Nosferatu and a great deal of the Bone Gnawer metis who had no interest in socializing with the ‘pretty people’ up above. Jules spotted Jessee there, who seemed to be keeping a suspicious eye on things. Everyone partook of the odd but savory meat punch from an old bathtub, finding themselves pleasantly buzzed despite those fierce metabolisms. Other than a brief outburst from some of the Vampires upon hearing the names Santovitch and Fabrizio in reference to Nico’s heritage, nothing seemed out of the order. Thus, the pack returned to the Sept in time for the halftime show and last half of the game. It came as a surprise to Jules when he found himself with the hat in hand, having properly guessed the score by only a two point difference.
The whole, grand affair was to culminate in a daring revel, drinking in the rage of the full moon before Timone as Wyrmfoe led the charge through the alleys of the city’s underbelly. As the day of the year with the highest occurance of domestic violence, the Rite unerringly led bloodthirsty Garou to the worst and most abusive pimps, drug dealers, gang-bangers and more. The occasional fomori fell prey, as did a lone and hapless Black Spiral Dancer. It all happened too quickly for the pack to attempt warning the Sept about their revelation that there were Maneaters in the block parties, having realized they partook unknowingly of human flesh after Jules reflexively sank his teeth into one of the amorous Kinfolk. Heeding Graveseeker’s premonition, the pack requested that Mother Larissa remain close, even as they found themselves separated from the bulk of the herd.
It was then the Maneaters made their move, assaulting from the rooftops with silver ammunition. Larissa may well have been cut down in a hail of bullets if it weren’t for Timone’s abrupt move to place himself in front of her and take the shots himself. The pack made short work of their assailants after the deadly, initial assault, especially once the rest of the Sept came flooding in after the bulk of the Maneaters were already downed, tearing the remainder to pieces.
Mother Larissa was saved with nary a scratch, but Timone had only enough strength to lift his hand and speak his last (and only) words before slipping away.