Fracas On The Fairway, AKA Ganged Up On The Green

December 02, 2018:

Wolfsbane happens upon Darkedge, who appeared on a golf course thanks to a rift prior to being attacked.

Golf Course - Westchester

This is one of many golf courses in the Westchester County area. Though
this is a public course and not one reserved for the likes of a country
club, its still a very high dollar course and is generally only visited by
businessmen types who're here for a work meeting or a chance to just get
away from work for a few hours.

This is a 18 hole course and its a well cultivated stretch of land off of
the highway. There is a Clubhouse with a lounge and restaurant with an
outdoor patio as well as a sports equipment store for all your golfing

The course sits near to Breakstone Forest and Lake, and the lake can be seen
through some parts of the treeline off of some of the course's holes. Golf
cart and walking pathways weave through the course, paved smooth and
generally quite clean. There are waste bins and park benches setup along the


NPCs: A few golfers


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Even in late November in the Northeast, if the weather's decent people will golf. It's a game with a long history in Scotland and the UK in general, but the closest Wolfsbane's ever been to playing it was with one of those motion-controlled video games or a few trips to a mini-golf place. In other words, never for real.

That doesn't mean the forests near the 18-hole public course in Westchester aren't good for wandering in. Little do the golfers in their collared shirts, spikes, and whatever else know that a wolfen woman is making her way through the trees lining parts of the course. If she wanted her own golf balls, there are quite a few scattered about, too!


Someone just hit a tee shot that ricocheted into the woods, the ball thumping, bouncing, and coming to a stop a few feet from her bare feet. Squinting, she decides to pick it up and chuck it back out onto the fairway. Lucky him.

It had been a dark night for the elf. He spotted a rift, that blue tear in the air, and so moved to investigate. Wary of the waryward magic, he stayed his distance, not seeing the rift open up almost directly under him under it was too late.

Four days later, a golf ball wasn't the only then that is tossed back to the golfers. Heartbeats later, in a flicker of blue, Darkedge it dropped unceremoniously onto the ground at one of the golfer's feet. The impact throws his hood back and almost immediately the elf, ears visible. His hand come up to cover his eyes and he tries to stagger to his feet, unable to find shadows to teleport away with.

A golfer, spooked by the sudden appearance, yells out in fright and swings his nine iron. There's a sick thump-crack, and down goes the leather clad non-human.

Wolfsbane had yet to encounter any rifts, and from what she's heard so far she'd be perfectly fine with things staying that way. Even going out alone like this could be a bad idea, but she left word with people at the mansion as to where she'd be and when she expected to return. If something went haywire, they'd be aware of it.

The elf in leather appearing out of thin air might just qualify.

Rahne didn't see it, but she soon heard about it. The shout was the first thing to draw her attention toward the next hole ahead of her, the tee box bordering the treeline. Then came a thump that didn't sound right at all. Uttering something under her breath, the wolfen woman broke into a run toward the commotion, but she didn't see anything until she was just breaking through the trees. The sight, surprising as it was, brought with it a shout from her. "Get away from him!"

If they were shocked by the elf, how about a 'werewolf?'

Shocked enough to run for it! "MONSTERS! RUN! AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!" The golfers clear out, leaving the elf struggling to try to to regain his feet, but too badly broken to do so. Not and keep his eyes covered. Dizzy, one the verge of vomitting, and with more than a few things broken, the elf shakily manages to shape a dagger into a hand. At least, he won't go down completely defenseless.

Just how many whacks they got in with the clubs, only they and the elf would know. The..elf? "Whit..?" is Wolfsbane's initial reaction to the sight of him, pale skin, dark outfit, and definitely hurt. The shouting about monsters doesn't really help, though it does end the attack as they bolt. Already, a few eyes from the prior hole's putting green are shifting their way, but the view is partially blocked.

"Come on, let's get ye oot o' th' open before someone else shows up wi' their clubs," she says, yet to notice the dagger as she moves closer, a hand soon to be felt at his shoulder. "Can ye stand on yuir own or do ye need muh help? Quickly, noo."

The aceent is odd, but lyrical and melodic in a way that screams of humans who may have once lived with the fae. Not able to flinch away from the hand, Darkedge is at least aware that the person belonging to this voice wants to help. He had heard Monsters, plural. Perhaps this one is a fae-kin as well, though he fails to sense any magic from her. Left without choices, the Queen's Blade accepts the help up with a hiss and a grunt and a whispered, "Not dark enough."

Where his hand is not covering, the too pale skin is a bright pink.

Not fae, just Scottish. And, definitely not magical. The touch is gentle, yet it carries a sense of urgency in how it slides around toward the shoulders and back to urge him along. Meanwhile, Wolfsbane is making note of whatever she can about him in the few moments that exist between reaching him and guiding him out of the open. "Aye, it's bright," she points out, something he's clearly realized already.

Then he could feel her guidance off toward his right. "Th' trees are this way. Och, yuir skin is so light, but I see some color a' yuir hand." If /she's/ noticing how pale someone else's skin is…well then. "They're no' following, an' th' others ran off, but we'll be safer in th' trees. I know muh way around here."

"It was not daylight," he forces himself to say, past the pain of the direct sunlight on his skin. Too bright and roo red too quickly, the elf has to lean on Wolfsbane far more than he'd like. In the woods, while it's better, he's still shaking.

"Cave?" he asks now, voice not at all steady.

"I dinna ken whit it was where ye were, but it's been sunny here all day. Did ye teleport or something?" Wolfsbane asks. She's well familiar with those who have that ability, whether through magic or the genetic gifts of a mutant, but it's an educated guess in this case.

Shaking her head, which he may not see, she adds, "There are nae caves around here I'm aware o'. Th' best I can do is try tae find a lot o' shade." Glancing over a shoulder behind her, she exhales in relief to find nobody trying to follow, not that she's worried about being able to handle a golfer or two. Darkedge, meanwhile, might find her arms are pretty hairy for a woman.

"Yes," replies the elf to the fact that he teleported. He uncovers his face to try for his hood, only to groan in pain and cover his eyes again. Eyes that in that brief moment, were watering down his cheeks. Fully coveredby the black leather, only his face and ears are exposed to the sunlight. The skin is an angry pink, quickly turning toward the red of a proper sunburn.

"Any shade," he hisses, teeth grinding together.

Frowning, Wolfsbane guides the elf, who is more or less blinded, further amid the trees. While some have lost their foliage, there are enough evergreens around to keep the sun from reaching them. "This is about as dark as it'll be until th' sun goes doon, but that's no' for another couple hours or so," she explains, no doubt sounding and feeling on the frustrated, helpless side. A brow shoots upward at the reddened complexion. Not even she ever burned /that/ quickly from the sun! "Ye need tae cover all o' yuir skin up. Ye're turning as red as a lobster!"

In the darker shadows, the elf is able to blink his eyes open just enough for vauge details to appear, but the light exposure's left him disorientated. He reaches for his hood again, hissing in pain as he can't move well enough to manage it.

"It will do until I can teleport myself away," he finally says, without bothering with a 'thank you for rescuing me'.

It takes a few more seconds for her to get to the point of thinking about it, but Darkedge will soon feel Wolfsbane trying to work that hood into place for him, lending a helping hand while being mindful of her own claws. "Will this do for noo?" she asks, after getting him close enough to a tree trunk that he could use it for support while she takes a few steps back. "An' where does it hurt th' most? They got a few good shots in on ye."

It's the light brushes of her forearms against his cheeks that alerts him to her being more furred than a normal human. Maybe she's just wearing a fur something, he rationalizes for the moment. His eyes close in a long blink, and his dips his head. It's as close to a thanks as he's going to give.

"Ribs," he says, shifting back into the darkest shadows he can manage. In the depths of his hood, his eyes glimmer and gleam silver. Tears drip from his chin, and he shapes the dagger away.

It's cool enough that Wolfsbane could conceivably be wearing an overcoat that's furry, yes. Once she's got things situated on him as well as she can manage, she backs a few more steps away and her voice makes it more obvious from where it's heard. A sympathetic grimace follows as she runs a hand through her hair, tied back in a ponytail. If he's caught any scents, she's got some leather of her own. "Nae wonder ye're breathing more heavily, aside from th' rest. Ye should sit doon if ye need tae. Yuir eyes will.." She was about to say something else, but she pauses and tilts her head at the shine she thinks she sees from within the hood.

"..will take time to recover," he finishes, the silver winking in and out as he blinks. He'll need to take some time to recover, and there is certianly no way he is returning to the Fae Realm in this condition. His Queen would refuse to let him back out and perhaps attack the HUman Realm in ritaliation. Nope. The best thing for now is to stay put.

Wolfsbane looks down to pick at a couple clawtips. She looks fairly human if you ignore the fur everywhere, the pointed ears, the fangs and claws. Her nose is more human than canine, there's no tail, her feet are feet and not paws, and so on. "I know th' area. If ye're no' from around here, I can stay near until ye're well enough tae go. Whit was th' last thing ye were doing before ye ended up here? Do ye remember whit happened?"

Still slightly light blind, Darkedge remains in the darkest shadow he can find, disoriented and not at all sure exactly where he's ended up.

"Your protection is noted and appreciated," he says, taking a moment to close his burning eyes again as he fights back a wave of nausea.

"I was near MidTown. I just Stepped. It was night time."

Wolfsbane rests with her back to a nearby tree trunk, leaving her to split attention between those claws she continues to inspect, and the stranger. "Well, ye canna protect yuirself right noo. Ye're like a newborn baby, fresh tae th' world, wi' naebody tae look after ye if I left. I'd no' feel right about it if I did."

The explanation causes her brows to furrow, scrunching up closer together as she tries to figure this out. "I've never heard o' teleporting taking tha' long. It's supposed tae be instant. We're way over near Salem Center in Westchester County, an' it's late afternoon." Now what had she possibly been hearing about things like this…?

That ananlogy has the elf frowning darkly and considering risking his Queen's wrath to just go home so he wouldn't be seen as a baby. He forces his eye open again. THe whites are bloodshot and the tears have not stopped.

"I was aiming for the alley across the way," says the elf, leaning his hand back. "And I'm not helpless." You believe him right?

"O' course ye're no'," Wolfsbane answers peacably, doing her best to leave any patronizing out of it. "I already saw th' dagger. But, how many fingers am I holding up right noo?" She shows three on her right hand, awaiting his response after adding, "I might have an idea about whit happened, even if I dinnae understand it a' all."

How many fingers… funny. Still not able to get clear vision, the elf at least turns his head in her general direction before quipping a response.

"One hand's worth more than you might if you keep prodding at it." A heartbeat and then he brings a four fingered hand up to rub at his eyes again, confirming once more, that he is effecticly blind.

"WHat are you called?" he asks finally. Had they made introductions? The daystar's light has scrmabled his brain.

It's one of the best ways to see how capable someone is at seeing things, but since he doesn't answer except to seemingly threaten her, the wolfen woman frowns and lowers the hand back to her side, shakin her head afterward.

"I go by Wolfsbane," she answers somewhat more quietly. "An' ye?"

Wolf's Bane - That which causes death to wolves.

Well, alright then. The elf nods at the moniker, seeming completely undisturbed by it nor by the connotation of it.

"I am called Darkedge," he replies, shuffling back into the shadow just a little bit more.

"Darkedge? Is there a meaning behind it?" Wolfsbane wonders, head tilting at the way he stays in the shadows as she studies his apparent efforts to see. "How's it coming wi' yuir eyes? Anything yet?" It may be the first time she's dealt with someone who couldn't see at all in the daytime.

"There is," he confirms, without offering to provide said meaning. Frustrating, perhaps, but that's how he is.

"Slowly. It is still too bright out here," is added grumpily.

Wolfsbane's curiosity nearly gets the best of her, but when he says no more she chooses not to press it. "Well, it'll be dark in an hour or so. I dinnae hear anyone else around, so I think we're safe here. If ye're hungry, I could go get some food an' bring it back," she offers, looking for a way to pass some of that time.

"Do so, then, Wolf's Bane," says the elf. Is it his accent that makes it sound like two different words or was it how he understood the name? Perhaps, he should say now for her to avoid things that came in contact with metal,but since he's already revealed too many weaknesses, he remains silent about that one.

The way he says the name gives her pause, but Wolfsbane shakes her head. It's not important right now, as far as she's concerned. " ye eat meat, or are ye a vegetarian?" she looks to find out before going. "An' even if ye're no' right here when I get back, as long as ye're nearby I can find ye. So if ye need tae move intae th' woods a wee bit further, it's all right."

Hood up and body all but burrowed into a knot at the tree's base, the cave elf sits hunched, ribs burning.

"WHichever. It doesn't matter," he replies, the head ache settled in fully.

"Aye." It's the only other thing the mutant says before she slips out of the forest, silent as can be, leaving him alone for the better part of half an hour or so. By the time she returns, dusk has fully set in, no sunlight visible any more. It makes getting around in the forest difficult without the benefit of enhanced eyesight or some other light source, but Wolfsbane doesn't need that.

She begins to approach the area he was in last, first checking to see if he indeed remains there or not. If he's moved, the nose will go to work.

Darkedge moved only a little, only enough to confirm to himself that ribs were infact broken. He settled back down and just waited. As dusk fell and darkness set in, he sighed a little and sat to regain his eyesight. WHile he's capable in a forest, it is not his forte, and so he fails to heatr the wolfwoman's approach.

As she draws nearer, Wolfsbane speaks softly. "I'm back. I brought some burgers an' some salad, depending on yuir appetite." Left unsaid is if he turns out to be a salad elf, she'll have no problem scarfing down the meatier side of things. "Oh, an' some water. Are yuir eyes any better yet?" As dim as it is in here now, it might still be another half hour or more, but it leaves time to eat first.

Darkedge starts at the sudden voice. His body tenses, which makes his ribs hurt, which makes the headache worse. But he doesn't complain beyond the grimace. He holds a hand out, eyes opening but still fading unfocused.

"Somewhat," is the reply to the eyesight.

Wolfsbane keeps a couple burgers for herself, fries to go with them, but the rest is set down just to one side. "Here, tae yuir left," she lets him know, keeping a respectful distance as she settles into a crouch to eat..and watch. The sound of wrapping paper shifts around a bit as she works on the burger, a satisfied little sound surfacing as she tastes the meat.


To hsi left. The elf turns to look, then reaches out to feel for the items. They aren't that familiar, since he's never eaten fast food. He turns it over in his gloved hands, listening tot he paper crinkling.

"….what… is this?"

"A cheeseburger wi' french fries, or a salad. It's got, ahh, lettuce, tomatoes, some carrots..I didnae look verra closely," Wolfsbane explains in between bites. "I didnae want tae take a long time getting back, just in case. Why? Whit do ye usually eat?" She did try to ask if he had a preference before she went.

Again, the elf turns the thing over in his hands until he feels the paper unfold slightly. Understanding dawns: it was wrapped!

"…Human's have odd names for food," is commented as he works to unwrap the thing by feel alone.>. Byu feel.. while wearing leather gloves.

"Vension, tubbers, fruits… Mushrooms and fish if I am feeling nostalgic"

Wolfsbane squints as she watches him trying to figure out the wrapped burger before she realizes he's fumbling around with it a bit. "'s wrapped in paper tae keep it from making a mess all over th' place. Ye can eat it tha' way." Has he really not experienced wrapped food? "Th' salad is in a plastic container an' there's Italian dressing."

She mulls over the reference to humans, which still strikes her as a bit odd to hear from someone else who appears humanoid. "There are strange names for a lot o' things, if ye think about it," she adds before a grunt of acknowledgement follows the food examples given. "Och, if ye'd been tae some o' th' fish an' chips places back home…" she says, trailing off. The memories.

"A plastic container…" repeatst he elf, before just shrugging lightly. Burger exposed - he thinks - Darkedge brings it to his lips for a bite. He chews, eyes closed, mulling over the odd combination of flavors before he feels that tell tale numbing tingle on his tongue that tells him one thing. This food was made on coldiron. He moves to rewrap it and set the bruger aside.

"What is chips?"

Wolfsbane notes the decision made with the burger, leading to her head tilting slightly. "Ye dinnae like it?" she asks before taking another large bite of her own. "Ahh, we call french fries chips where I'm from. They're just potatoes, cut up an' deep fried." Eyes sweep the area a couple times. All is quiet aside from a few sounds typical to the woods.

By shades his vision is returnign and so something else food related is found with only a little blind patting. He feels the container, searching for a way to open it.

"What are…" he is about to ask 'french fries' but she answers him and so he goes quiet again.

"It is not good for me to eat," he finally says of the burher, having takent he time to sort out how to tell her without really telling her.

"Ahh, no' every one likes fast food or greasy things," Wolfsbane acknowledges, thinking she's understanding his aversion to the burger. It's probably close enough. "So…can ye see me yet, or still no' quite?" She's shifted around to a seated position, leaving the longer folds of her outfit to pool about her legs.

Darkedge turns to look at Wolfsbane, fingers still sliding over the plastic container, failing to find hinges.

"I cannot see details of you, but I can see you," he affirms, nodding once. Seeing her shape is more than he needs to kill her. Of course, given his other injuries, retreat seems a much better plan.

And that, after what she's done to help get him to safety. Wolfsbane stays around ten feet away, a nod perhaps made out. "Then ye're getting closer. Good," she says, content to wait it out so she can ensure he's able to depart safely. Then, a motion with a hand. "There's some water by th' salad as well. Just unscrew th' top o' th' bottle."

"Hmm.. indeed." He's so communicative, face turning toward the water bottle as he continues trying to get the salad open. He brings it up to try to look at but the details are too fuzzy for him yet.

A rustling sound from her location, then her voice a couple feet closer. "I can help ye get tha' open if ye need," Wolfsbane offers. Whether it's the salad container or the bottle itself, it makes no matter. A hand is held out, leaving it on him to take her up on it or not. "Ye must really no' like th' daylight.."

It is the salad that's handed over.

"I have seen it twice in my life," replies the elf, eyes no longer watering but still bloodshot. His pupils are tiny dots, shocked almost closed.

The sound of a couple plastic tabs parting can be heard after Wolfsbane's got the container in hand. "Just like this," she remarks, handing it back over afterward. "An' here's yuir fork." She's assuming he's familiar with utensils, even if this one is just plastic. "An' twice? Do ye live in a cave or something?"

"I used to," he admits, taking the container back and moving to eat with his fingers. Told about his fork, he looks over, manages to see a vague shape and so reaches for it. It's clear that no, the elf does not know what or how to use a fork. It's felt briefly then set aside in favor of his fingers again… yes, still wearnig those gloves.

Wolfsbane opens her mouth, then decides against whatever she was about to say, shutting it. If he wants to eat with his (gloved) fingers and get that salad dressing all over them, so be it. "But no' any more," she clarifies. "Ye must only go oot a' night, then."

"UNless properly enchanted. I prefer the night. THe moon is bright enough." Darkedge talks between bites, not seeming to care about the dressing, nor the mess being made of his gloves. The poor leather. And yet, if he is this uncaring about grime on his clothing, how does it look so prestine. Even after having been burrowed in loam and earth, it is immaculate

If it's magic, it's beyond Wolfsbane's comprehension. She's experienced some of it before, but that doesn't mean she gets how it works. "How do ye mean, enchanted? Does tha' mean ye can do magic an' all tha'?" she wonders. Again, it's her turn to ask a question or two, while she hasn't faced many from him. Her burger is more or less devoured by now, another waiting.

"Enchanted, ensorcelled, bolstered by magic and will. And yes, I can use magic," says Darkedge, eating about half the salad before he's full and so sets it aside without trying to open it. Gloves wiped on teh grass, he finds the water bottle and cracks it open.

Here, the wolfen woman's curiosity shows up to get the best of her. "Whit sorts o' magic can ye do?" she wonders, a note of interest creeping into the question. "An' just so ye're getting salad dressing all over yuir pretty gloves." That's before or after they're wiped off, regardless.

"I step through shadows and control gems," says the elf, leaving out that he has telepathy and can sense magic since those seem to him to be unimportant. As for his gloves. "THey'll clean themselves." He doesn't care.

If the telepathy's been used at all, Wolfsbane is unaware of it up to this point. Controlling gems seems out of her realm of understanding, so she just answers with an affirmative sound before the gloves are given another, closer peek. "Those are fancy gloves, then."

"Enchanted," confirms Darkedge, before his eyes, still regaining sight, focus a bit more on WOlfsbane. The blurring sight makes him frown in confusion.

"YOu are… dark?" he asks.

"I see," Wolfsbane says of the gloves, even if she doesn't actually see. That could be useful, though - clothing that doesn't get dirty. Following that, an 'mmm?' out of her. "Whit do ye mean, dark?" She's still only a few feet away.

"Dark.. your.. face? It's…" the elf is trying so hard to focus on her features before he finally almost sighs, shaking his head and turning his gaze away to close his eyes again.

"Och. Aye, I guess it would be," Wolfsbane answers, leaving a pause for a few seconds before she goes on to explain, "It's muh fur, like on muh arms an' all. Would ye like tae feel it an' see whit I mean?"

A brief clearing of her throat and she adds, "It's because I'm in muh partial wolf form. I can shift back tae just human if ye like."

And now, he will know.


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