A Run-In With a Cop And A Pack-to-Be Meeting

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] The bar is a fairly low-end place; not a true dive, but hardly the greatest watering hole on the face of existence. Or in Chicago. Or even in this area. It’s got personality though, the kind of place that regulars frequent and everyone knows everyone’s name. An old big-screen TV is showing one of those crime shows, CSI or NCIS or SVU or LMNOP or something like that. No one’s paying attention, because they’re not here to watch TV. They’re here to drink and forget their troubles.

In Sarita’s case, she’s here to hang out.

This is the kind of place the Strider likes best. She’s able to hang out herself, and chat up a few locals. Make some friends, have some booze. Maybe get in a fight, maybe get laid. It all depends on the night, her mood and her luck. Of course, her luck hasn’t been great as of late, but she’s always willing to go out and see what’s coming for her. And whatever the result, she usually enjoys herself.

She sits at the bar, a few empty shotglasses in front of her. She’s not a regular, and as such she’s got the attention of the locals. Her locks can’t hurt that much of course; she’s already had to turn down a couple of middle-aged drunks, though she’s doing it gently with amusement. She’s not feeling particularly mean tonight. She nurses a beer as she looks around, toe tapping to the Lynyrd Skynyrd coming through the jukebox.

[Derek Anderson] He enters the bar, not making a big thing out of it. He’s a tall, muscular man, around 6’3″/6’4″, with short blond hair, kind blue eyes and good looks. Yet, he doesn’t seem to posture or anything, to stare anyone to establish dominance or anything. Of course he wasn’t trueborn, but it was something typically male. True born just do it better. He’s dressed in boots, jeans a white and blue long sleeve shirt fitting his upper body nicely could been seen as he unzips his winter jacket. He looked around, grinning at the type of show they had on the TV: Cop show. His lips turned into a warm smile when his eyes stopped the beautiful Strider sitting at the bar.

He move in a smooth, easy way, back straight, looking ahead, looking almost regal toward the bar. There seem to still have nobility in his blood. He wasn’t pretentious or anything, it just was natural. He stop beside her, leaning forward, elbows on the bar

“Penny for your thought and mind me offering you another beer?” He say in his deep warm voice, still smiling widely, looking at her

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She over at the door as Derek comes in a little grin curling up on her face. She certainly seems pleased to see the man; she enjoyed their little talk the other night. She gives him a little nod, waving him over.

“You can absolutely offer me another beer. I think you’re overpaying for those thoughts though.” She gives him a wink and gestures to the stool next to him. “C’mon, have a stool. Technically it’s not mine, but I can sublet for it on behalf of management. How the hell are you?”

[Derek Anderson] He chuckled at her words, motioning for two beers at the bartender “Really? I thought that it would be a hell of abargain. You have the most interesting thoughts” He smield to her as he seat beside her, making many patrons jealous. He didn’t seem to mind them much as his eyes stayed on Sarita

“I’ve been quite well, to be honest. I learned that one firend of mine was..family” He say, knowing she would catch his meaning “Met a few very interesting people. Probably people you know: Joey, Kora, Hunter, Tabitha, a silent guy, Detective Montoya. Let’ssay that all of them in the coffee shop I was with Cordy…had an interesting effect on the crowded place…In the end, I think only Tabitha and I were left with a shaking barrista behind the counter”

He did had a small look of pity when he remembered the poor girl. But it was still kidna funny when you thoguht about it. He paid for the beers as the tender handed them to him and he slid one in front of Sarita

“How have you been?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Ohhhhh….” She gives a laugh that fairly broadcasts what kind of a shitty week she’s had. It’s still amused–she has gotten her sense of humor back–but definitely has a subtext of “Fuck February.” It’s her mantra for the month…and the month is only half-over.

“It’s been interesting.” She sighs. “Okay, let’s see. Joey’s a cool girl for the one time I met her…helped her get a ‘promotion,’ so to speak. I don’t know Kora. Tabitha’s nice enough, though her best friend is a little off-putting. The silent guy is probably John.” She leaves that one there.

“Izzy I’ve only met once, and my sister pissed her off.” She pauses. “Wow, I’m saying that a lot lately. Anyway…yeah, know most of them. Thanks,” she finishes with, taking the beer and downing a good, long swallow.

[Derek Anderson] He smiled at her description of those he had met a few nights ago “Kora is..well she isn’t subtle, but she look to be nice enough. I think you would like her. And yeah, Joey is fun and I don’t know your sister, but Izzy is..well not the most accessible person.”

He smiled “So having some sister related probems?”He say, tilting his head, as he grabbed his beer “And you did avoid my question about how’ve you been. My guess is..not so good. Want to talk about it or just get stupid drunk? Ideally..we should do both. But I”m not going to pry into your life if you don’t want me to”

He drank form his bottle, still looking at her. He really didn’t mind of she want to keep her personal life ot herself. Everyone had that right, Garou sometimes even more…some of them had the worst lives…

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Yeah, Izzy didn’t seem too accessible.” She shakes her head. “To be fair to Amy, she didn’t do too much to piss Izzy off. Said one wrong thing if I recall.” She shrugs. That’s Fenrir for you. “Whatever, s’all good. Even Steven.”

She looks over at him when he asks if she wants to talk about it or get drunk. “I don’t mind chatting about it a tiny bit, maybe. And stupid drunk…that’s something I’m TOTALLY down for.” She grins. “C’mon, let’s go get a table away from the bar.”

[Derek Anderson] He nodded and tell her “All right, go ahead, I’ll join you”He got them to pitchers (right word?) of beer, paid for them and walked to the table she had picked. He put htem down, went ofr glassesand came back and sat with her, not directly beside her, nor directly at the opposite of hte table. He put his chair sideways so he could look at her, facing her, not too far, not too close either “Ok, I think we have everything to start the evenin well”

He say with a smile “And you can talk as much or as little as you want. When you’re the one people confide to, or help people see the way, soemtimes, having someone do the same ofr you can be helpful.”He shrugh “Not saying it’me..jsut saying” He wouldn’t presume that a true born needed to confide in him.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[That’s the tight word, yep!]]

She moves to a table off in the far corner of the bar, next to the jukebox. The Lynyrd Skynyrd song as changed to “Simple Man,” and Sarita’s nodding her head to it, humming along with when Derek comes over. She may love blasting the Kanye West and Ke$ha, but when it all comes down to it, she’s a Southern Rock and Classic Rock girl at heart. And for all her snark, she’s has her simpler, quieter moments. She snaps out of one of those and smiles as he approaches. She exhales a drag of smoke and moves the ash tray so he can set the pitchers down.

“That’s a good start, but what’re you gonna drink?” She winks and takes one of the glasses, pouring out some of the beer. “Thanks. You’re a doll.”

[Derek Anderson] He laughed “Well the bartender said he’d keep a tab open for me. So I’ll get something later I guess” He grin at her, looking relaxed, enjoying himself. “And don’t call me doll too loud..or all my work trying to look manly will be destroyed. I’ll be doomed”He say mock afraid, then flashed her a charming smile

He poured himself some beer to o”So, want to talk about you..or anything else?” He say, blue eyes looking at her, but never directly into her eyes

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Ehh…we’ll get around to me.” She smiles a bit, taking a swallow of the amber drink. The glass is settled back on the table and she takes a drag of cigarette smoke. “First you. Any intriguing cases lately? Any good jewelry heists or bank robberies?”

She grins. “I know you have stories. C’mon, entertain me with one. I demand entertainment.” It’s in no way an order, of course. Not in any serious way. Just a request, phrased jokingly as an order.

[Derek Anderson] He listend to her with a smile. “i’m not a very good story teller. I do have a peculiar case though. It’s about a local Pittsburgh celebrity, a boxer, who had some good years, won a few titles but he wasn’t the smartest guy in the world. The proff? Well..don’t ask me why, but the guy robbed a convenience store in the middle of night, the old fashioned way, ski mask and gun and then ran away. Thing is it had snowed liked an hour before. We arrived on the scene, asked questions and then got out. I see those boots track on the ground, looking liek the right size of boot ofr a guy of the height and weight described. So me and my partners start following them like one block down and would oyu beleive me it lead us right ot his frigging doorsteps.”

He shook his head with a smile “Amreica’s dumbest criminals: celebrities” He looked at her and drank from his bottle

[Cold Victory] The world of Garou is rife with coincidence, and it just so happens that the bar that Lukas asked Amunet to meet him at is the same one at which Derek and Sarita are currently kickin’ it.

It’s cold in Chicago, and there are double doors everywhere. The first one takes the temperature up twenty degrees; the second one, another twenty. When Lukas crowds in, though, it feels like the temperature in the room rises another ten. Or drops fifty. He fills the doorway — very tall, wide across the shoulders, a monolith of black in his overcoat — and conversation around him lulls for a second before picking up again. The moon is waxing again. His rage rises with it, a subdermal beat in the air.

He spots Derek and Sarita, heads toward them with a quirk of a smile. “Hey!” he says to Sarita as he gets closer. A nod to Derek — “Sorry, quick interruption,” — before he’s looking at Sarita again, “Your sister here yet?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She grins widely at that, about to respond when Lukas comes in. She looks over his way and grins, sitting up a little bit more. “Hey there boss man.”

When she asks if Amy’s here, she blinks in surprise. “Uh, no. Why, what’d she do this time?” It’s said mostly kidding. Mostly. You gotta admit, Sarita has precedence to ask the question. What, you don’t think she does? Well, you don’t know Amy. And she’s nothing like that guy Jack that you don’t know either.

[Amunet Trujillo] She’d texted her sister with a quick “Holyfuck, he wants to meet” before heading out, making her way on foot since the bitch took off with the van. She paused outside the door of the bar, a shiver running down her back before she took a deep breath and headed in.

[Derek Anderson] He looked at the man interrupting them. He had felt his rage and certainly wasn’t gonig to brush him off. “Don’t worry about it Sir”He say politly “If you have business with Sarita and her siter..would you like to me to leave you all alone?”He ask, looking at Lukas but not meeting his eyes “Or you’re welcome to join us” He say with a nod, motioning the empty chairs nearby

He wasn’t about to attend a meeting of true born without being invited that’s for sure, Maybe it’s a pack meeting or something. After all, he has no idea that Amunet is not Garou, but kin like him.

[Cold Victory] “Oh.” Lukas looks briefly puzzled. “I thought she must’ve told you, and that’s why you were here. Coincidence, then.” The Shadow Lord unwinds his scarf, then rolls it up in his hands and dismisses it with a smile. “I got your message, by the way. I’m glad to hear it. Welcome aboard.

“This,” and he hands her a printed slip of paper, and it might not be coincidental that it’s eggshell white with dusk blue type, “is the address to Kate’s loft. I let the rest of the pack know to expect you. We don’t really have a packhouse, but that’s the closest thing, and you’ll more often than not run into one of us there.”

He glances around the pub then; back to Sarita and her friend. A shake of his head, “Thanks, but I’ll butt out for now. Maybe I’ll swing by later, after Amunet and I have had a chance to sit down together.” He extends his hand to Derek by way of introduction and goodbye at once, “Lukáš, by the way. Sarita’s soon-to-be packmate, hopefully.”

[Amunet Trujillo] Deep breath, Ames. Just breathe.

She stops just inside the door, looking wholly surprised to find Lukas talking to her sister. After watching for a moment and watching some sort of note passed, she moves that way slowly.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She takes the slip of paper and notices the color of the paper and font. A wide, Cheshire-like grin breaks over her face, and she chuckles at Lukas. “You, my good man…are THE man.” She slips the paper into her duster…and THEN her phone vibrates. Stupid T-Mobile text message lag. She pulls it out and flips it open, reading the text. “Oh, yeah. Hey Lukas, Amy says you want to meet with her. Also, I hate my cell phone provider. Can you hear me now?”

She puts the phone away and nods to Lukas. “Sounds good. I’ll stop by. Oh…and Lukas, this is Derek. We met out there in the Park the other night. And had a random encounter tonight. They may have implanted a ‘people who know me’ magnet in here.” A smirk.

[Derek Anderson] He got up to shake tha man’s hand, it was polite after all. His grip was firm, confident, but no way a test of strenght. Sarita told his name ot Lukas so he was left with a “Pleased to meet you Sir” He paused then said “I’m sorry if I”m forward Sir but would the Kate you’re talking about..a Katherine? If so, I”m looking for one, she’s family.”He say, still not looking at the man in the eyes

He had been trying to reach the onyl Silver Fang he knew of..well there was the other one with hte herald, but Sofie didn’t remember her name. It was a lnog shot asking that man about Katherine..but it couldn’t hurt..too much

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks over as Amy comes up and nods to her. “And here’s Amy. Hey, you…just got your text. We need to switch providers, these guys suck.” She’s grinning to the kinfolk, but her eyes say Relax, it’ll be fine.

She looks between Derek and Amy once Lukas and Derek are done with introductions. “Amunet, Derek. Derek, Amunet. Now you two have met.”

[Cold Victory] “Katherine Bellamonte, the one and only,” Lukas confirms, his own grip much the same: firm, confident, without excessive brutality or squeeze. There’s a look of curiosity in his eye, which resolves into comprehension a moment later. Of course. With that unmistakable breeding, he should have known. “She’s my sister. I’ll let her know you’re looking for her. Have you a number she can reach you at?”

Even as he’s speaking, he’s turning – alerted to Amunet’s approach by some sixth sense. He’s not sure if he’s met this woman before — the truth is, Lukas’s worldview rarely includes the various kin and mortals he meets every day. His pale eyes flick over her face, curious and assessing for a moment before he nods a hello to her.

“You could also drop by the Loft when you get a chance,” he finishes, turning back to Derek. “Sorry,” he adds, quirking a crooked grin at the frou-frou little slip of paper he handed Sarita, “I only printed out one of those things. But I’m sure Sarita will let you peek.”

He steps back from their table, then, raising his eyebrows at Amunet. “Want to grab some beers and find a table?”

[Cold Victory] [SPEAK OF THE DEVIL.]

[Katherine Bellamonte] [WTG Lukas, you summoned her.]

[Amunet Trujillo] She nods to Derek, but most of her attention is understandably on Lukas. The kin is oddly subdued, eyes flicking around the bar every few seconds as her nerves clearly show.

[Amunet Trujillo] The kin nods at Lukas, chin lifting in a show of confidence, then lowering just a touch so that she doesn’t come off as too self assured in front of the Elder. “You get the table. I’ll get the beers.”

[Derek Anderson] He nodded “Thank you Sir” He rached into his pocket nad hand a card to Lukas, reading Detective Derek Anderson with a cell number. “As for Sarita, I”m not sure if she’ll let me peek or play guessing game, but I assume she will give me the adress.” He gave him one last nod, almsot a bow “Have a nice evening”

He turned to offer a smile to Amunet “Pleased to meet you Miss” He say to her and understanding her lack of response, he sat down once Lukas attention was on Amunet. He then smiled warmly at Sarita

“Well congratulation are in order it seem. Guess we have a good reason to get drunk now” he say in a playful tone

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She laughs a little at that. “Yeah, I guess that we do. Not that I need a reason to get drink, but hey, if an excuse gives you a reason to feel good about it in the morning, feel free.” She gives Derek a wink and takes another draught from her glass.

The semi-dive bar’s jukebox switches from “Simple Man” to “Freebird.” The Strider has loaded up the damned thing’s queue with enough Skynyrd to last until closing time.

[Katherine Bellamonte] [I swear I’m typing now! Was just finishing up another scene. *zoom*]

[Cold Victory] “Just Lukáš,” Lukas brushes the ‘sir’ off. “I’ll see you guys later.”

The jukebox queues up more southern rock. Most patrons like it. A few are disgruntled by the lack of trendy underground music — this is the Loop, after all, or close enough not to matter — and go elsewhere. Lucky for Lukas, a table just so happens to clear out. He’s tossing his coat over his chair as Amunet returns with beers.

“Thanks,” he says, taking one before gesturing her into the other chair. There’s a sort of unconscious courtesy to him: he waits for her to sit before he does as well, relaxed, accustomed to these human, social, slightly upscale surroundings. He knocks his longneck back, then smiles across the table at Amunet.

“So, what’d you want to talk to me about?”

[Amunet Trujillo] Her hand brushes through her hair quickly as she glances to Sarita before focusing fully on Lukas.

“Couple of things, actually. I know that Sar accepted your offer. I need to know what my part in this is going to be” There’s a tiny pause, and she looks at the table before looking back at him. “If I’m going to have a part.”

[Derek Anderson] He nodded to LUkas, next time he will adress him, he will use the man’s name. He laughed at Sarita’s words” Well to be honest, having a drink with you was a good enough reason, you receiving a good news just made it better.” He raised his glass at her “To your..promotion?”He say, not actually about to say pack out loud even if lukas and Sarita’s presences had pushed the patrons to the other side of the bar.

He didn’t know if Sarita will talk about her last week and how she felt now that her sister and new packmate were around, but it didn’t matter, she seemed in better spirits already.

[Katherine Bellamonte] She had long ago drawn some line in the sand, Katherine Bellamonte, about what she would and would not allow herself to enjoy with the excess of privilege and wealth that came with her name and titles. From a mortal standpoint that meant she had a lovely sleek car — all dark lines and tinted windows — but never employed a driver to take her anywhere.

There was one on retainer to her family, but she very rarely called on him.

There was, after all, a certain freedom in being the one behind the wheel and Katherine Bellamonte had always relished the power of being in the driver’s seat — such as it was, this mentality was reflected, or had been at least, in many other areas of her life — both human and monster. Tonight, the figure that swings long legs out of a black BMW has been called to by her Alpha. One of the Kinfolk she’d recently been informed of was present, and the Strider Sarita, now a prospective pack-sister was also here.

Come and meet them, Lukas had urged.
Honor’s Compass had sighed, and closed her novel.

Now, you could scarcely have imagined the blond female who swarms in the door of the Pub in her winter’s coat with fur-trimmed sleeve and collar, with her perfectly coiffed hair and pink glossed lips had ever been laying on her sofa, in a lazy state of repose. She was a striking woman, there was little to be argued against it with a fine, thin nose and high, crafted cheekbones. Pale lashes swept each, and her eyes were of a particularly pale blue that seemed to dominate her pack; Sinclair and Lukas both also bore the shade, though each carried their own slightly different hue of it.

At the door, Katherine checks her progress, and her eyes unerringly discover Lukas. Then, they flick and disconcertingly quickly place Derek. He, she studies for several seconds.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Mmm, let’s say to my new professional association,” she says with a chuckle. “I tend to think of our version of promotion as something different.” She finishes off the beer and then goes to repour.

“And that was a friggin’ awesome story. America’s Dumbest Criminals indeed. How good was the look on his face when he realized what had happened? Please tell me it carried all the way to his mugshot, and that you have a copy of that mugshot..”

She looks over, noting Katherine. Okay, no way is this coinkydink. She smiles a bit, nodding to her. “Hey Derek, we got more incoming,” she says as she smiles to Katherine. “One you were asking about.”

[Cold Victory] Lukas sits with his back toward a wall, his eyes facing most of the bar. That sort of placement doesn’t even seem purposeful anymore. It’s something he does. It’s something he’s used to doing. It allows him to see Katherine when she walks in, though. Amunet can see his eyes flick over her shoulder and beyond. The smile he gives his packsister is a world away from the subdued, polite smiles he gave the stranger that was her kin.

Across the pack bond, Katherine can feel Lukas’s mind brush against hers: a warm, dark, solid presence; an unvoiced greeting.

Then his clear, pale eyes come back to the kin across from him. He looks curious again, and curiosity is an animal thing on him. Everything about Lukas is animal: somehow not quite human, somehow just a touch savage, no matter the facade of civility and courtesy he wears so well. “Your part,” he repeats, as though tasting the words. “In truth, Amunet, I don’t consider myself the Alpha of those kin allied to my pack. You remain your sister’s ward, and the only time I’d interfere is if her good judgment regarding you somehow failed in a way that damages the pack as a whole. So I suppose the simple answer is … you’ll be involved however she wants you to be involved.

“If you’re actually wondering how you can get more involved, though, that’s a different matter. I suppose I should ask you: how do you want to be involved?”

[Amunet Trujillo] And here they go again. She sits up a little, leaning forward to be able to keep her voice down.

“I fight. It’s what I do. I’m not like normal kin, who are happy to stay on the sidelines. I’ve got too much training and have fought too hard to do that. Ask Sar if you want. I can hold my own as good as she can against anything this side of… you know.”

Her eyes flicker to Sarita, then back to him. “I want to be part of the pack.”

[Derek Anderson] He nodded “I know..I jsut couldn’t find better. So yeah, to your new association” he smiled even more when she came back to his story “You wouldn;t beleive the face he made. It was priceless. I’ll try ot get you the picture. Might actually make a good poster”He said good naturelly. The man had been a world class idiot.

He was drinking from his glass when Sarita noticed Katherine and told him about her. He almost choke on his berr..Dammit, he thinks, how will I look right now, dressed casually, with two pitchers of beer probably looking liek I”m flirting with her new pack sister? He thinks to himself, feeling embarassed. Wiping his mouth with a nearby napking, he got up to greet Katherine.

He was a tall musuclar man, about 6’3″/6’4” with short blond hair, kind blue eyes, usually a charming smile, but right now, it was sa slightly embarassed smile. He was dressed in boos, jeans and a white and blue long sleeve shirt, the sleeve partially rolled up. He stood straight, looking at her but not meeting her eyes. The way he had moved from sitting to standing spoke of grace that few big men possessed.

He waited for Katherine to be closer before slightly bowing and say a very respecful “Madam Bellamonte, I”m honored to meet you”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She chuckles at Derek’s reaction, and rises herself. For her part, it’s a simple respectful gesture to the Master of the Challenge and her potential packmate. She even stubs her cigarette out. Sure, it was about dead anyway, but that is totally not the point. What is the point? I’d think that’s obvious. You’re obvious. You’re a point, too.

Oh, right. So anyway, she lets Derek do his introductions. Tribe business before gonna-be-packmate business, she always says. Well, she just started saying now, anyway.

[Cold Victory] Lukas’s dark eyebrows flick up, then furrow. “Are you asking me to treat you like a Garou — to bring you along on hunts, put you in harm’s way as a warrior?”

[Amunet Trujillo] She nods slowly. “Within reason, of course. I won’t expect or ask to go on anything that I would be a liability on. And I’m prepared to prove myself, if need be.” She catches her bottom lip with her teeth, holding it there for a moment before going on. “I can do this. I can be an asset to you, if you let me.”

[Katherine Bellamonte] They ought to be careful, deferring to a Silver Fang like that. One might think such gestures would go straight to Katherine’s head. Still, after she greets Lukas — silently, naturally, a brush of familiarity — she heads toward the table where the True Born and her Kinsmen are rising to meet her. There’s certainly a curve of her mouth upward in the suggestion of appreciation for it.

But there’s also amusement.

“You must be Derek,” Katherine’s voice was not exactly what one expected, and then again, it was entirely as it should seem. Sweet, peppered with the faintest traces of french [affected or not it was there, though she was in large part American born and raised] which gave her something of an exotic air. He greets her as madam and the smile grows.

She laughs, it’s hard to resist. A ripple of gold and light; silvery and genteel for all that she feels like a monster up close; smoldering with Rage beneath that tan skin. “Enchante, I am sure but please, call me Katherine.” Sarita gets the benefit of a warmer smile, too and the Half Moon gestures that they sit down.

She remains standing only to unbutton her coat.

[Cold Victory] There’s a sense that Lukas is somewhat at a loss. His brow is furrowed; in his hand, the beer bottle turns in place on the tabletop, slow circles whose sound is lost beneath Lynyrd Skynyrd. After a while, he picks the bottle up, takes a drink, then hunkers forward over the table.

For the most part, Lukas dresses tastefully, with an eye toward concealing the weapon that is his body more than he flaunts it. His coats are cut to make the breadth of his shoulders seem less imposing. His shirts sleeken him. When he sits like that, though, he seems a mountain of strength: all thick shoulders, heavy chest, biceps bunched and forearms corded. An Ahroun of the Adren rank, through and through.

“I believe in your dedication,” he says quietly, “and I believe in your skill. But the fact is my pack is a pack of war, and most of us are Fosterns or higher now. Strong enough to face the mighty foes Perun directs us against; made stronger still by Perun’s blessings.

“I don’t doubt that your heart is great, Amunet, but you simply don’t have the raw strength to follow us into most of our battles. You would be crushed in an eyeblink, or else the rest of us would have to struggle to protect you constantly. The brutal truth is — on a pack hunt, you probably would be a liability more often than not.”

A pause.

“There is this much I can offer you, though. Last year, my mate tried to form a coalition of kin. For numerous reasons it never panned out, but if I remember correctly, there was plenty of martial interest amongst the kin. If you want to form and lead a fellowship with likeminded kin, I’ll keep your group in mind in the course of the war. I’ll send you against lesser targets that I find.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Hey Katherine.” She sits down when the Philodox makes the motion, relaxing. “Can I get you a glass? We’ve got a couple pitchers here.” She gestures to the the containers of beer on the table. The Ragabash isn’t exactly sure if Katherine will accept…Sarita’s seen her in a bar before, but she doesn’t remember if she was drinking. Still, she’s gonna make the offer, if only to be polite.

Yes, Sarita’s polite. She’s the fuckin’ very pinnacle of etiquette. Prove it’s not the case. Okay, beside that one time. And that time too. And the one with the goat. The goat was totally asking to get hit though. She’d swear to it.

[Amunet Trujillo] She nods very slowly, picking at the label of her beer as he talks. When he’s finished, she runs her fingers in her hair again and nods more decisively.

“I appreciate it.”

Her eyes flicker over to Sarita, watching her now as she continues. “You made a really good decision with her. She needs something like this.”

[Adamidas] There is a pop, somewhere. And it’s not sonorous or over-stated. It’s just quiet and doesn’t seem to make much of a fuss.

It’s accompanied by the flush of a toilet. The running of water. A theurge walking out of the bathroom.

Now, there are lots of questions that one could ask. They could ask why is a small brunette wandering out of the bathroom? How long has she been in there? They could ask how come she isn’t cold? She’s wearing a skirt for crying out loud! They could ask isn’t she a little young to be in here in the first plce?

There are enormous, gaping plot holes that are linked to Adam’s entry into the bar, especially since they came from a non-conventional entrance. Those plotholes are glossed over simply by the answer she’s a theurge, it’s what they do.

She wanders to the bar, and doesn’t order a drink. She asks for the time, and smiles. Grins ear to ear.

Not last call yet.

She orders a beer, and the bartender looks at her funny. She orders a coke and he seems more okay with this request.

[Derek Anderson] He nodded to Katherine, answering with his deep, warm voice. “Yes Mad…Katherine” He say with a slightly sheepish smile. He moved to sit down as Sarita invite Katherine over. He was glad the Strider did. He wasabout to do it but didn’t want to go over Sarita and decide for her.

When Sarita offer Kaherine a glass for the beer, he has a feeling the Silver Fang would prefer something else, like champagne or maybe Brandy. But th offer was made a true born and he wasn’t about to counter it and suggest something else. He did say “It’d be a pleasure if you joined us.”

He wondered if he should leave, it seem that Lukas pack and pack to be was gathering. He felt like he was intruding in a very select group. He didn’t appear too uncomfortable but he was considering letting the pack be with each other. He could always talk and drink wth Sarita later.

He was about to say something when the young brunette came out of the bathroom. His blue eyes watched her for a moment. This almsot dive bar had just too many incredbly beautiful women around.

He prefred to drink form his glass, glancing at Sarita, one of those beauty and jsut smiled. Suddenly the place was “crowded”

[Sinclair] The moon is hers tonight.

Normally when Sinclair enters a room there’s not a mortal nor wolf who can ignore it. There are plenty of Garou whose rage eclipses her own, and there are plenty of Ahrouns whose prowess in battle is better known, but it’s just something about her that seems a little more feral, a little more wild, a little more hungry. Her looks imply a girl-next-door sort of neutrality: wheat-colored hair, sky-colored eyes. Freckles. Not the girl who wore heavy eye makeup in high school but the girl who might have been the prettiest band nerd or the most wholesome-looking cheerleader.

Not anymore, though. The rage and the predatory grace of her every movement are augmented now. Metal glints in her ears, ink coils under her skin. She has a low center of gravity, walks with the ingrained physical awareness of a dancer. Or a killer. And on nights like tonight, when the moon waxes away from Katherine’s phase and into her own, Sinclair is a thing to behold. Light catches her hair differently, glints in her eyes, making them gleam. She looks softer. She seems stronger. She’s a pretty girl. Under her moon, she’s beautiful.

Even indoors, which is where she’s walking now, there is something about Sinclair that makes people look. Even the people who sense her and feel a cold, clammy terror in their guts as they lift their heads.

She walks straight for her packmates, wearing — of all things — a pair of well-fitted green pants and a charcoal gray v-necked shirt screenprinted with white silhouettes of birds rushing across her chest towards her shoulder. The shirt is longsleeved, hems nearly covering her hands to the knuckles, tissue-weight cotton. It’s revealed in patches and then in whole as she grabs a chair and swings it around, sits down at the table without asking if she’s interrupting, and unbuttons, shrugs her way out of a black peacoat with a broad turned-up collar.

Other than a glance across their faces, she mostly ignores the two kinfolk they’re sitting with at first. Gives a little upward nod of greeting to Sarita. Then looks at Derek and Amunet. “‘Sup.”

[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine’s attire, much like her Alpha’s, was tasteful. Though she tended toward white more often than other darker shades; though black had, for many years, been making an increasing dent into the Silver Fang’s everyday wardrobe. Still; tonight she wears her favorite; a white blouse paired with winter slacks. The material neatly pressed, the lines clean.

The boots she wears with them are impressive, and add to her height, rounding the Philodox out at just over 5’10. When she seats herself; it’s with a fluid, albeit thoughtless grace. Derek would not be the first unsettled by her, or her pack’s close distance. The Ragabash asks after a drink for her, and the half moon fusses with a wayward lock of hair, thoughtful a moment.

“I would like that, perhaps you could see if they serve Champagne? Or if not, a glass of their house white will suffice nicely.” She returns her attention to Derek. “Now, I want to hear all about you, Derek. Tell me what brings you to Chicago, and how you have been settling in. My main duty toward all my Kinfolk in the city is to be your source of connection, and, should the need arise — your protector.”

It’s somewhat ludicrous, this slim young thing, barely into her twenties, telling a fit man like Derek that she will protect him. Some would take offense to it; others would flush with anger. But it’s there, subtle, felt — the potential for lethal threat implied in the Fostern. Pretty and poised she might be, but she was just as monster as all the rest.

Speaking of — there’s the slight turn of Katherine’s face as the door opens once again.

Sinclair’s presence is felt, answered by Katherine before Sinclair has even progressed far into the room. “This is Sinclair, Brutal Revelation. My pack-sister. A Galliard of the Glass Walkers. Sinclair, meet Derek Anderson, a new come addition to my tribe in the city. We were just getting acquainted.”

[Cold Victory] It doesn’t escape Lukas’s notice that Amunet’s face falls; that she changes the subject soon thereafter. There are Ahrouns that are little more sensate than clods of dirt. Lukas is not one of them. Most who make it past cubhood, make it past Cliath, aren’t. He looks at her for a moment, his eyes pale and keen. When she mentions her sister, his eyes move toward Sarita for a moment; he smiles in spite of himself.

“I think we need someone like her too. We haven’t had a Ragabash in a long time. And this entire Sept has a distinct lack of wise Ragabashes.”

A pause; a sip of beer. Then, gently, “Listen, Amy … I know it’s not easy to hear that the one thing you want to do most is something you can’t do. I can’t imagine how hard that must be. But for what it’s worth, I am going to try to find ways for you to be useful to us. I’d do that even if you weren’t willing, yourself — but that you are is a big plus in my book.

“Is there anything else you do well? Any other skills you have, or are willing to learn?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She seems to be fairly amused as she’s sent off to ask about Champagne or white wine. Mental note: must program some Allman Brothers into the jukebox to take place after Freebird, That Smell, Simple Man again, Freebird again, and the Kid Rock ballads. Yes, Kid Rock ballads. If you don’t like it, spend your own quarters. Kid Rock ballads rock.

She grins and nods to Sinclair along the way to the bar, then talks to the bartender. Adamidas gets a brief nod as well. It takes a little talking to the man, but eventually she’s coming back with a glass of the white.

“Sorry, no champagne.”

[Sinclair] For a member of a pack that lives (mostly) in a place like the Loft, where one Ahroun is a mated Adren and alpha of pack, auspice, tribe

and one Ahroun is the daughter of a house of kings

and the Philodox is nearly an Adren herself and wealthy beyond dreams,

Sinclair sort of stands out. She has nicer clothes than she did when she first came to Chicago but she hasn’t upgraded from the car she rebuilt with her father all those years ago, that nasty green El Camino parked outside. She doesn’t dress like Kate and Lukas unless Katherine is taking her to the symphony or some such shit and letting her borrow a dress. Lukas is in dark clothes befitting his tribe, Kate wears white. Sinclair wears a pair of Skechers that, by god, have seen better days and were once a bright, silver-lined magenta. Against green pants. And a gray shirt.

Look at this fucking hipster.

She is introduced by Katherine as she sits. She is given the name of the male and she looks at him for a moment. But then she drags her eyes off, following the conversation Lukas is having with Amunet.

[Adamidas] Sinclair is pretty. Adam’s never actually noticed this; she knows that Sinclair has a nice bone structure and that she has a unique look and she’s got some very pretty blonde hair. At this moment, Adam looks at Sinclair and the first thing out of her mouth isn’t thank you for the coke in her hand, it’s-

“Wow.”

Right. She realizes it’s come out of her mouth and she isn’t embarrassed about it. Tonight, Sinclair iis Calliope. She is Thalia. She is Melpomene and Erato and Mnemosyne. Seriously, kids. Look. At. That. Fucking. Hipster (and be awed.) At about the time where she’s musing about the muses and realizing oh yeah, I still have a drink, she realizes she’s staring like a dumbass. So, her response to staring like a dumbass is to wave hello in that general direction. Kate, Derek, Sinclair? They’re all covered with that wave.

Luckily, Sarita nods at her and Adam, in turn, turns her head and heads over that way.

“Why do I keep seeing you in bars?” the song changes, “what’s on the jukebox?”

[Derek Anderson] He felt more than saw Sinclair coming in and when he saw her, the beer stopped from reaching his lips for a second or two..It’s getting ridiculous, he’s tihnking to himself. Somebody shoot me. He blinked and swallowed. “Good evening” He tell Katherine’s packmate with a smile. “Pleased to meet you”

He found enough of his smarts to offer Sinclair a hand. He willshake her hand brieftly and firnly if she take it. His hand not calloused nor smooth. The base of his fingers was harder inside his hand and the knuckled were rougher as well.

Hisattention turned back to Katherine to answer her, his glass on the table. He wasn’t sure if he had enough focus to handle holding a glass while talking. It hadn’t happened often to him. But tonight, well..anyway..

“I was transferred from Pittsburgh” He tells Katherine “I jut made detective and made to try my luck somewhere else. A spot opened in the 18th precinct and here I am. I’m also slettlng in well. I met various people and all seemed pretty friendly. I can’t complain at all” He say with a smile. “And it’s very generous of you to offer your protection”he say in a respectful tone “If I need anything, I will call you without hesitation” Hewasn’t embareasse or offended. After all, that’s how things worked

[Amunet Trujillo] Just a few days ago, she would have gotten angry and launched into a defensive argument about what she’s capable of and how he’s just not seeing it.

All of the fight is out of her now, though. This is, after all, just another thing on the list of what she wants but can’t have. Better to keep her temper in check, and salvage something.

Her eyes move over the others at her sister’s table. The blissfully unaware kin. The woman that represents a threat so severe, it made even the stubborn Strider kin reconsider her priorities. Sarita looks at home here, among these people. She owed her more than stubbornly insisting that she’s somehow special.

“I can learn anything the pack is willing to teach me. I don’t really know much other than fighting, but that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to try”

[Sinclair] There’s a hand coming her way. Sinclair notices it, but she glances at it like she’s just seen something curious amidst the fallen leaves on the ground. It takes her a second to go ahead and take Derek’s hand. She gives him a small nod. “And you.” Polite, but not exactly warm. She takes her hand back when he seems done with this greeting and mercifully goes on ignoring Amunet. Mercifully because, from the feeling this woman brings into the room with her, being the object of her attention is an uncomfortable place to be at best.

“There’s always things that need doing around Bellamonte Park,” Sinclair says, though, more to Lukas than to Amunet. It sounds like a suggestion. “That place is like a revolving door for any humans Kate hires.”

[Amunet Trujillo] Her eyes move from her table to Sarita’s again, looking over Sinclair as she tries to process what was just said in her direction, feeling the hopelessness that’s building inside her grab a little more of a foothold.

[Cold Victory] Lukas thinks a moment, his eyes drifting over the bar — glimmering even in the dim light here. Catching that light, refracting it, throwing it back. There was a running joke that blue eyes are a trademark of this pack — common across Lukas, Kate, Sinclair, even Christian. Some of their fallen, too. Mrena with her pale eyes. Katarina. Sam.

Not Asha, though. Not Sarita, either. The truth is, the pack evolves. Time passes; they all change. Lukas’s eyes come back to Amunet. He takes a swallow of beer, then sits back.

“Maybe you could help us scout,” he says. “Not the sort of battlefield scouting I’d ask Sarita to do. Something more along the lines of scoping and staking things out. The Wyrm is entrenched deep in the fabric of the community up north. There are plenty of organizations and institutions either fronted by or composed mostly of humans. A woman without Rage could slip in and out of those places more easily than even a Ragabash, and your combat skills would come in handy if you got in a pinch and needed to fight your way out.

“I’m sure your sister could teach you some tricks. And perhaps Katherine and her kin too, if it’s more subterfuge and intrigue that you need to learn.”

[Sinclair] [Cut the bit in my post about Sinclair speaking to Lukas/Amy about Bellamonte Park.]

[Amunet Trujillo] She chuckles softly, peeling at the label on her bottle again. “Oh, I’m good at lying to people. Point me in a direction, and tell me what to keep an eye out for. I’ll be happy to do the legwork.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks back at Adamidas and grins. “There’s a good reason for that. I drink a lot.” She picks up her glass of beer and, as if to demonstrate, takes a drink of alcoholic goodness. It’s set down and she pulls out a cigarette, settling down into her seat at the table with Katherine, Derek and now Sinclair.

“And on the jukebox, by the way, is the epicn brilliance of Ronny Van Zant and Lynyrd Skynyrd. All ‘y’s’, no other vowels. Just shut your eyes and let the sweeping guitar solos take you away.”

It’s said as an side to the main conversation between Katherine and Derek. She’s not meaning to interrupt that.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine is brought wine, and it likely doesn’t even strike her to consider that perhaps it was not fitting to send another Garou on an errand for her in a Pub. Then again — Sarita had made the offer to begin with. The Half Moon accepts the glass with a murmur of appreciation for the Strider’s handiwork and raises the glass to her lips; perfectly groomed eyebrows rising a notch as Derek begins to tell her about his coming here.

She listens, Katherine, her attention is wholly fixed on him for as long as he speaks, and she answers. For all her apparent youth, there is a sense of established knowledge banked in the Fostern’s pale eyes; it’s present in her voice, too. In the friendly, if politely practical manner she lays out her reply. “I do not believe we have had a Detective of our own,” of her blood, she means, “at least not as far as I can recall. I’m certain you will make a most useful asset to the Sept, and to the tribe.

A few things I should lay out now, while I have you here.

I run a tight ship, as far as our tribe is concerned. As Kinfolk, some of the demands I set are not yours to answer to, but, by the same token, because you are Kinfolk and my responsibility, if you cause trouble that is laid at my door I will hold you accountable for it, and punishment will be dealt out. I have no time for stupidity in my blood relations — those that are useful, I reward with tasks. I treat with according respect.

Those that waste my time, I will see they find little to enjoy.”

A beat, a sip of wine. “My home, the Loft, is a safe place should you find yourself in trouble, or needing temporary accommodation. In short, Derek, I am gladdened to greet more family, and as long as you keep your nose out of trouble, we should only need to meet formally every other moon.”

[Cold Victory] “Will do,” Lukas replies, the corner of his mouth tilting upward. He lifts his beer bottle up, eyeing it to see how much remained before taking another swig. “So, that’s item one. Anything else you wanted to talk about?”

[Sinclair] At I have no time for stupidity in my blood relations Sinclair can’t help but laugh. It’s a quick, half-stifled thing, a burst of amusement — though the reasons behind it are probably unclear even to Kate — that is followed by a grin when she informs Derek that those that waste Kate’s time are …well.

Fucked.

Sinclair gives a nod of greeting to Adamidas as the Theurge joins them, and glances over at Amunet and Lukas. She senses they’re not done. Can see it in the way Lukas holds himself. Turns back to those she’s sharing a table with, particularly Sarita. “You know, I wouldn’t mind you joining if only because the Fang-Lord parade of swank needs more of a shakeup than lil’ old me can provide. Did you know our other Fang has a herald? A herald, woman. Now Kate wants one, too.”

[Adamidas] “You’re pooooor liver,” she says. She even sounds like she’s lamenting, but it doesn’t quite hit her eyes, and her mouth hasn’t quite caught that she’s lamenting, either, because she’s grinning her underaged head off. She takes a drink of coke and looks at the conversation taking place. Her voice has dropped and she’s half-muttering asides to the Strider like they’re going out of style.

“So, Lynyrd Skynyrd… the number of Y’s proportional to the amount of badass in the band?” she asks because she does know better. She’s been made to ride in the back of a pickup truck for questioning the goodness of Skynyrd.

[Amunet Trujillo] “No. That’s pretty much all of it tied together, it seems.” She flashes a smile. The rest of it, after all, is irrelevant now.

“Thanks for your time. I wanted to make sure that you knew that I was ready to help out. I should probably get out of here, and let you talk to your pack.”

[Adamidas] She sees Sinclair, and this time she doesn’t stare at her. Oh no, she plays it cool and offers her the same upward nod that Sinclair gave her. Sup without saying it.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She grins at Sinclair, a chuckle escaping. “Happy to shake it up. I’ve…yes, I’ve met Asha and…Thomas, was it?” It’s clear from her expression that Sarita really doesn’t know what to make of that still. She’s gotten some perspective by Lukas, and that helps her understand a bit, but still…she just nods.

“Yes, I’ve met them.” You just said that. So what, I’ll say it again. When you get something more tactful to say, lemme know. Since there isn’t, it’s just that and a smile.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks at Adamidas and grins about the Skynyrd comment. “You know it. I like the way you think.”

[Derek Anderson] He nodded to Katherine “I will do my best Mad..Katherine. I try to stay out of trouble, I have the authority to stop some of it. I won’t bring you embarassement or will accept the consequences if I do. I doubt you’ll have to see me for anything other than reports or if you ever have need of my skills.”

He kept it at that. He could profess he has good instincts and judgment. That he had met many true borns and kin in the city and has been behaving as it would be expected of him. But it would sound too much like he need to pro himself.

His eyes did wander to Sarita coming back with the beautiful brunette, then Sinclair, back to Sarita and the woman, Sinclair aaaand ceiling. Yup, ceiling is good. With beer inside of him. Definitely. He downed his glass and brought back his eyes on the pitcher and poured himself another glass.

He took a smaller drink from it this time.

[Derek Anderson] (*He keep it at that…)

[Katherine Bellamonte] “Yes, Thomas.” Katherine’s expression softens, adopting a wistful cast. “Wonderful herald, comes from a long line of them, too.” That raises such fascinating questions about the Silver Fangs. Did they breed a family simply to serve as heralds? How did it work, exactly? Was there a market somewhere in France where they were bred, and kept in pressed suits with sticks to bang against the floor before commencing?

“I must ask him about his family.”

[Sinclair] “Thomas is one of my favorite people ever,” Sinclair informs Sarita, deadpan. “I think my very existence makes him weep for the future, and I kind of get a kick out of that.” She shrugs. “Asha’s great, though. She will tear shit up in a fight, too. I think second to me, she’s Tripoli’s favorite wolf.”

Tripoli. Said like triple-e.

If Sinclair knows that Sarita is withholding judgement of the young Fang of Blood Red Crest or her herald, she doesn’t seem to acknowledge it. She doesn’t bring it up. Doesn’t argue. What she says about Asha seems, at least on the surface, genuine enthusiasm for her packsister. Dismissive, accepting amusement and little else about her traditions. Her herald.

Stop half-saying Madam and then calling her Katherine,” she says suddenly, though, looking at Derek with a swing of her gaze that pins him like a butterfly. “Listen to yourself, man, it sounds like you’re calling her Mad Katherine. Hello. If you start to say Madam because you can’t stop yourself, then don’t stop yourself. Chase that feeling. But Jesus. It’s making me twitch.”

[Cold Victory] “They’re your pack too now. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Lukas gets up, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair as he does. “Come on. Let’s go say hi to Kate’s new cousin.”

[Adamidas] “I’m one wise mothafucka. I need to get it on a wallet like Samuel L. Jackson in Pulp Fiction,” she says.

She looks at Kate and blinks. She catches the part about heralds. Having come from a long line of heralds, and it makes her think. She looks at Kate longer and harder, like she’s trying to think of something.

“Wouldn’t that get really frustrating? Having a person who… what exactly does a herald do? It’s, like, a person who rattles off all the important information for you, right?”

[Amunet Trujillo] She stands as well, keeping the smile in place and nodding. “Yeah. Sorry. Just kind of a new concept, you know?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] And with one single, solitary line and Samuel L. Jackson, the Fury is on Sarita’s “Badass People of Chicago” list. She smirks and looks about to say something, before she notices Lukas getting up. She gets quiet suddenly, watching Lukas and especially Amy, taking in their movements, reactions, body language and such.

[Sinclair] For no apparent reason, Sinclair knocks on the wooden table with her knuckles quickly.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine’s mouth quirks at one edge at Mad Katherine.

Her eyes shift to Derek, she’s almost soothing as she says, “I’ve been dubbed far worse, I assure you. If Mad Katherine is as bad as it ever gets again, I shall count myself the luckiest of women.” She smiles around her wine glass, sips from it and then says, idly as an aside to Sinclair.

“I thought you said I was Tripoli’s second favorite wolf because I cleaned her so often.”

Then, Adamidas is staring, and Honor’s Compass is turning her attention on her; expectant. “Oh, no. It’s very useful. In fact, you can have them memorize not only your entire lineage, but remember other important things like your social security number or the combination to the safe. Endless uses, honestly.”

She may be joking, judging by the gleam in her eyes.

[Cold Victory] “You’ll get used to it,” Lukas reassures. His hand comes to her shoulder briefly, warm and heavy. “At least I hope you do.”

Then he’s ushering her back toward the larger table, his half-finished beer snagged up as he goes. When he returns to them, he nods to Derek again, then drops his coat over the chair between Sinclair and Sarita. The Ahroun follows, dropping down much the same way — palpably comfortable in the presence of his pack.

“Hey,” he says to his sisters. His beer bottle clunks down on the table. “You guys meet Amunet yet? She’s Sarita’s sister.”

[Adamidas] “…. oh my god, I want one. Can I get them at Target?”

[Cold Victory] “And I always thought I was Tripoli’s second favorite because I just kick so much ass,” Lukas puts in, and affects a sniff. “Katherine, I think we’ve been played.”

[Derek Anderson] “Yes Ma’am!” It came instinctively and he was sitting straighter under Sinclair’s gaze. She handn’t told him to call her by her name. And the way way she spoke, reminded hin of his drill sergeant. He looked at Katherine “I’m sorry, Katherine. I hope I haven’t offended you”

He nod back to Lukas and offered a small smile to Amunet. Ok…now he was really intruding into pack business “Hmm maybe I should leave you guys alone. Being all associated. Might want to discuss things that are none of my business”

He

[Amunet Trujillo] Sarita gets a big smile, and she leans against her sister’s chair as she nods to the others. “Hey.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[I Empathy You!]]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
to Amunet Trujillo

[Derek Anderson] (Wow..hmm scratch one way…and the last He who is completly alone and useless ;0 )

[Sinclair] Sinclair blinks at Kate, furrowing her brows together in bewilderment. “Her? Dude, Asha helped save him from slavery to the Wyrm. You polish him with Turkish towels. It’s a tossup but I think she still wins.”

Gently, she kicks Katherine’s shoe under the table. Smiles at her. Lukas sits down beside her and she leans over, bumps against his arm before sort of bouncing off. She doesn’t sit up straight. She slouches, sprawling. She hasn’t gotten anything to drink yet.

“Hey, Amunet,” she says to Sarita’s sister. Without looking at her much. Without missing a beat before: “Dude, it’s really kind of sad that you want to be a wee gaffling’s favorite, okay? He barely even knows you exist unless you give him cutlery.”

Derek sits up straighter. Calls her Ma’am. Sinclair gives him a weird look. It looks like this:

O_o

[Cold Victory] “But he’s really cute,” Lukas argues, sounding utterly earnest about it all. “If you gave me the choice, I’d totally rather have a metal gaffling than a herald. Sarita, you meet Tripoli yet?”

[Katherine Bellamonte] Lukas gets a look, it’s at once fond and exasperated, and then pale blue eyes are turning on Amunet and the Silver Fang presents her with a winning smile; a flash of straight, white teeth. “Bonjour,” she purrs amiably enough and then — returning Sinclair’s kick beneath the table as if they were five instead of their respective ages she turns her attention to Derek once again.

“You really don’t need to go, unless you wish to. Stay, please. Have a drink with us, and get to know my pack and some of the Garou better. Have you met Adamidas properly?” She inclines her head at the pretty brunette Theurge. “She is our Sept’s Theurge Elder.” Then, a seeming random belated protest:

“Those are imported towels. If I cared nothing, I’d use the toilet roll.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks up at Amy, and her expression softens a little. No one knows Amy better than Sarita, and big smile aside, the Garou can see the little things that betray how the other is feeling. There’s a bit of sympathy in the Ragabash’s yes for her sister as well as a touch of sadness. She gives her a look that says I’m sorry, we’ll talk about it before she leans back against her sister, looking back to Lukas.

“I can’t say I have met Tripoli. I’ll have to do that, though, at some point.”

[Derek Anderson] He offer a sheepish smile to Sinclair “Sorry, old habits from my upbringing sand police academy. Don’t mean anything by it, but you’d scare my drill sergeant” He smile a little more, the lookede at Katherine. “Ok it it’s all right with everyone, I’ll stay”

Of course it had started as a drink with Sarita..and now it’s have a drink with our pack. Yeah, they owned the place now and he was just a guess. He did offer a charming smile and his hand to Adamidas “Pleased to meet you”

[Derek Anderson] (*if it’s all right with…)

[Cold Victory] [don’t wait for me! i’m conquering egypt!]

[Adamidas] She offers her free hand, and she stands up to her full height. She’s comfortable in her size, shape, the amount of space she’s taking up. She’s not too self-conscious. Her features are young, her eyes are dark, and so is her hair. She has pretty teeth. Her eyes are too far away, though.

“No problem, I’m Adam,” she says. Boys name in a skirt, “and stick around.”

He’s a cop. But he’s kinfolk. He’s a cop but he’s kinfolk. She regards him closely, looks over details and is right there for a split second. Adam nods to some unseen force. Derek is deemed acceptable.

[Sinclair] [HAVEN’T THEY BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH]

[Adamidas] [NEVAR!]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She smiles around and gets up. “I’d love to stay and hang, but it’s getting late and we should go. Been a long day for both of us.” She smiles at her packmates to be, and then Derek.

“Later guys.” She drops down some money for the drinks and then makes to go.

[Sinclair] “Well, who wouldn’t,” Sinclair says, as though wanting a gaffling over a herald should be obvious. She turns to Sarita. “A little while before I made Fostern, Asha and I fought some minions who were enslaving metal elementals and… well. This one poor dog.” There’s a faint wince in the words, in her eyes, though not her expression as much. “One of the gafflings sort of followed me home after that. He’s been getting stronger, though. And he’s pretty much the most adorable thing ever, but he’s sleeping somewhere right now. I like to think that when he sleeps, he goes to the umbral pocket realm that is filled with nothing but the epiphlings of Tin Cans and Coke Can Tabs.”

A nod, then. “Later, Sarita. And Amunet,” she adds, obviously an afterthought.

Derek gets her attention for a moment, then, after the sisters have taken their leave. Smile or not, sheepish or not, she didn’t return the expression as he told her that she’d scare his drill sergeant. “You military, too?”

[Cold Victory] Lukas — sprawled out in his chair — looks up as Sarita gets up next to him. He holds up his hand, clasping hers briefly, fraternally, before waving to Amunet.

“See you guys later,” he says. “I’m glad we talked, Amy. And — I’ll keep what we discussed in mind. See what I can find you. In the meantime, you should think about what I said too. Forming a fellowship, all that.”

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