I am a werewolf hunter...
Jan. 30th, 2007 12:57 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
annwfyn.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
zg_shadowsI am a werewolf hunter.
Let me guess. You're about to say 'but you don't look like a werewolf hunter'.
You're right. I don't. Werewolves hunters are traditionally big with the macho. They are everyone's favourite stereotype. Scars, guns, and a hat is normally expected. I've no idea why the hat, but everyone expects one.
Me? I'm 5'3", like pretty jewellery, and still sleep with a stuffed pig that an ex-boyfriend gave me when I was in college. He's called Pigmond, by the way. Don't laught at his name. He'll get upset.
But anyway, where were we?
Oh, yeah. I don't look much like a werewolf hunter. I mean, how the hell did a nice girl like me get into this anyway? And why would I do that? Werewolves aren't that common, and I know a lot of people think they are kind of on the soft side of supernatural anyway. They aren't vampires, who'll suck you dry or enslave you, mind and soul, as soon as look at you. They aren't demons, or possessed humans, who destroy for the joy of it. No, werewolves are just people who turn into wolves. They want to save the world, some of the more knowledgeable of my acquaintances say.
I nod and smile, and then I open the folder of stories I've got, and I know that that's all bullsh*t. Werewolves are monsters, as much as vampires, as much as demons. They aren't furry eco-warriors. They are killers. I know this. I've seen the scars.
It all started a year ago. A friend of mine was killed. Her name was Shelly, by the way. She was a nice girl. She worked as an administrator, dyed her hair a different colour every six months and was a big fan of blues music. She had just got a new job, working for some kind of government operation. She wasn't able to talk about it a lot, but she was really excited by it. She had a decent pension plan, really good holidays, and proper sick pay. As she'd been temping for eight months before she landed this job, it was a big deal.
She died on her first day.
'But what's that got to do with werewolves?' I hear you say.
Well, it's like this. Shelly wasn't the only one who died that day. Her whole office did. The official reason given was a terrorist attack, but I spoke to her mother just before the funeral. Apparently Shelly's body had been ripped apart. The undertaker had never seen anything like it. There was no chance of an open casket funeral - christ - Shelly's family never even got her head back.
Shelly, my harmless bouncy goth PA friend, died, and I wanted to know why.
I began poking around. I managed to get some statistics on how many people died in that office. It was over eighty. I poked around, and discovered that not one of those people had an open casket funeral or a viewing. That's pretty unusual. I asked questions. I got a lot of dirty looks and requests to shut up, but found out that Shelly wasn't the only one to be ripped apart by claws and teeth.
And that got me hunting.
Since then, I've got a lot of stories. I've sat and watched an old man cry. His wife had her head ripped off while arranging flowers at her local church. It was literally ripped off - as if by some massive force. There were clawmarks on the body, though, and a couple of crazy reports of giant dogs in the area. Nine people were killed in that church. No one was ever charged. One man was arrested, but the charges were mysteriously dropped.
Werewolves aren't just feral forces of nature, you know. They are smart as well.
I've talked to the family of two Catholic priests who were kicked to death, by a girl of amazing strength, who was never charged with anything, but was quietly removed from a hospital by mysterious doctors. They have never been given any answers about what happened to their brother, or to their uncle.
Outside of London, I've sat in a mental ward, and heard the faltering testimony of the squaddie who still maintains, in the face of everything, that he saw his platoon ripped apart by giant monsters - half man, half wolf - during routine exercises. I've also been to Reading, where the rumours in the right places are that the fifteen girls that went missing in the last year may well be the victims of werewolf kidnappings, their bodies twisted from human to wolf, now kept as slaves to be used as breeding stock.
I've seen the survivors. I know what the body count is.
And you know what I think the worst thing is?
The closer I get to them, the more I realise that they don't think they are doing anything wrong. I've managed to track down a couple of people - not actual werewolves, but those who are related to them - and I've heard them talk. The werewolves think they are doing something too important to worry about humans. They have no rules amongst themselves which say that human life matters. Oh, they are big on secrecy - I've had the threats and the dire warnings for even asking questions - but human life doesn't matter to them at all. Even vampires know, on some level, that what they are doing is wrong. I've met a couple of vampires. Most of them didn't chose to be what they are, most of them would rather not drink the blood of the living, but they don't have much choice.
Not werewolves. They chose to fight. They chose to kill. And they don't feel a shred of remorse.
So I won't feel that bad when I take them out as well.
Let me guess. You're about to say 'but you don't look like a werewolf hunter'.
You're right. I don't. Werewolves hunters are traditionally big with the macho. They are everyone's favourite stereotype. Scars, guns, and a hat is normally expected. I've no idea why the hat, but everyone expects one.
Me? I'm 5'3", like pretty jewellery, and still sleep with a stuffed pig that an ex-boyfriend gave me when I was in college. He's called Pigmond, by the way. Don't laught at his name. He'll get upset.
But anyway, where were we?
Oh, yeah. I don't look much like a werewolf hunter. I mean, how the hell did a nice girl like me get into this anyway? And why would I do that? Werewolves aren't that common, and I know a lot of people think they are kind of on the soft side of supernatural anyway. They aren't vampires, who'll suck you dry or enslave you, mind and soul, as soon as look at you. They aren't demons, or possessed humans, who destroy for the joy of it. No, werewolves are just people who turn into wolves. They want to save the world, some of the more knowledgeable of my acquaintances say.
I nod and smile, and then I open the folder of stories I've got, and I know that that's all bullsh*t. Werewolves are monsters, as much as vampires, as much as demons. They aren't furry eco-warriors. They are killers. I know this. I've seen the scars.
It all started a year ago. A friend of mine was killed. Her name was Shelly, by the way. She was a nice girl. She worked as an administrator, dyed her hair a different colour every six months and was a big fan of blues music. She had just got a new job, working for some kind of government operation. She wasn't able to talk about it a lot, but she was really excited by it. She had a decent pension plan, really good holidays, and proper sick pay. As she'd been temping for eight months before she landed this job, it was a big deal.
She died on her first day.
'But what's that got to do with werewolves?' I hear you say.
Well, it's like this. Shelly wasn't the only one who died that day. Her whole office did. The official reason given was a terrorist attack, but I spoke to her mother just before the funeral. Apparently Shelly's body had been ripped apart. The undertaker had never seen anything like it. There was no chance of an open casket funeral - christ - Shelly's family never even got her head back.
Shelly, my harmless bouncy goth PA friend, died, and I wanted to know why.
I began poking around. I managed to get some statistics on how many people died in that office. It was over eighty. I poked around, and discovered that not one of those people had an open casket funeral or a viewing. That's pretty unusual. I asked questions. I got a lot of dirty looks and requests to shut up, but found out that Shelly wasn't the only one to be ripped apart by claws and teeth.
And that got me hunting.
Since then, I've got a lot of stories. I've sat and watched an old man cry. His wife had her head ripped off while arranging flowers at her local church. It was literally ripped off - as if by some massive force. There were clawmarks on the body, though, and a couple of crazy reports of giant dogs in the area. Nine people were killed in that church. No one was ever charged. One man was arrested, but the charges were mysteriously dropped.
Werewolves aren't just feral forces of nature, you know. They are smart as well.
I've talked to the family of two Catholic priests who were kicked to death, by a girl of amazing strength, who was never charged with anything, but was quietly removed from a hospital by mysterious doctors. They have never been given any answers about what happened to their brother, or to their uncle.
Outside of London, I've sat in a mental ward, and heard the faltering testimony of the squaddie who still maintains, in the face of everything, that he saw his platoon ripped apart by giant monsters - half man, half wolf - during routine exercises. I've also been to Reading, where the rumours in the right places are that the fifteen girls that went missing in the last year may well be the victims of werewolf kidnappings, their bodies twisted from human to wolf, now kept as slaves to be used as breeding stock.
I've seen the survivors. I know what the body count is.
And you know what I think the worst thing is?
The closer I get to them, the more I realise that they don't think they are doing anything wrong. I've managed to track down a couple of people - not actual werewolves, but those who are related to them - and I've heard them talk. The werewolves think they are doing something too important to worry about humans. They have no rules amongst themselves which say that human life matters. Oh, they are big on secrecy - I've had the threats and the dire warnings for even asking questions - but human life doesn't matter to them at all. Even vampires know, on some level, that what they are doing is wrong. I've met a couple of vampires. Most of them didn't chose to be what they are, most of them would rather not drink the blood of the living, but they don't have much choice.
Not werewolves. They chose to fight. They chose to kill. And they don't feel a shred of remorse.
So I won't feel that bad when I take them out as well.
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no subject
Date: 2007-01-31 10:22 am (UTC)Saying werewolves are the good guys (generally speaking) in WoD doesn't mean they don't cause damage and doesn't mean they aren't bastards. They do and they are, even the most pacifistic Child of Gaia knows that.
Vampires can choose humanity. They can exist without killing and without causing undue damage. It's hard work, but possible - several factions within their society will even help them do it.
Werewolves cannot choose humanity. They are created as warriors for the spirit of the world: their brains are hardwired to hear the song of the spirits and channel their righteous anger. Perhaps one in each caern can get away with being the chaplain instead of the squaddie - someone who never raises a hand in violence. But the others can't.
Garou are the teeth of the world - a world that has been battered and twisted over the centuries until it's at point break. Individual humans in WoD deserve justice and mercy, but humanity as a whole does not... and, well, Gaia was never very good at finesse of subtlety, was she?
Dazzle the bitch and let her feel what the wolves feel. Then ask her if she still thinks the garou cause to be unjust. If she still wants to kill them after that, fine.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-31 10:53 am (UTC)On a random note, you're quite fond of your characters being the good guys, or at least the heroes, as far as I can tell. I don't think I've ever seen you play in a venue/social setting/mindset where your PC doesn't have a reason for being on the side of the angels.
This observation based on the above piece of prose, and a couple of recent comments about the Sabbat as demon hunters, fighting to save the world, which made me blink for I have pretty much always viewed vampires as being the bad guys. Maybe the bad guys with some individual redeeming features, but mostly they do drink blood, frenzy, kill people, and are all going to hell in a handbasket as their beast slowly scrabbles into their brain more and more.
In fact, I think most of WoD is about bad guys who are trying to maybe scratch some kind of moral justification out of the air in order to keep going. Is very odd to hear Raven views on such things.
The above is intended as discussion and not sniping in any way.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-31 12:33 pm (UTC)Yeah, I think it is, hence why it became a fast favourite for all the angsty goths =)
*laughs*
I managed to play a mage who was my malice-side for all of one game, after which I felt thoroughly sick with myself and so dropped her. I don't like being unpleasant to people, not in real life or a game. Oh, arguments and tension and chaos is all to the general good, but I dislike being just base nasty.
I doubt my characters are actually heroes, but they all have a vaguely moral code and they certainly think and hope they're doing the right thing.
As for the whole 'who's good who's bad in WoD?'... I've seen Sabbat played as a true 'Sword of Caine', killing demons and the unworthy of the blood, viewing themselves quite fairly as vengeful angels. And I've seen them played as slavering monsters, obsessed with their 'freedom' and thinking head-onna-spike rugby is fun. Likewise I've seen very caring garou who believe that humanity is to be protected... and I've seen garou packs behave worse then any vampire I've ever met.
I think it all depends on the ST and the players as to who will have the tattered remenence of nobility and righteousness on their side at the end of the night when all the blood has dried =P