Big-Ass Meeting From Hell

[Balance Without Fault] [folks, clarification — sorry if this shuts anyone out, but of the Garou, only Tribal and Auspice alphas are invited. of the kin, everyone can come.]

[Balance Without Fault] Unsurprisingly, the Brotherhood of Thieves is the venue for tonight’s meeting. The restaurant has been closed, the front door locked and hung with a PRIVATE PARTY sign. The tables and chairs have been rearranged into a large circle.

Balance Without Fault enters alone, unaccompanied by his packmate or the Warder. In true Glass Walker fashion, he’s in suit and tie; he looks crisp and sharp, and it’s just a little jarring to see him like this. So normal, like a trader from the Chicago Stock Exchange coming for an after-work drink.

He takes one of the two wingback chairs. The other is immediately cleared away. That says something about how much this is or isn’t a casual discussion where rank does not factor in. Hint: it isn’t. He confers quietly with Jenny for a moment, then, who leaves the room and soon returns with … a magic eight-ball, of all things.

Those nearby can hear her ask, “Will this do?” They can see Balance Without Fault’s mouth quirk into an amused smile as he accepts it.

“Perfect,” he says.

And then he claps his hands together, three time, calling for attention.

“Welcome, everyone. Thanks for coming. Here are the rules tonight: one speaker at a time. He or she who holds the magic eight ball,” and he holds this aloft, “speaks. No one else.

“Keep a respectful tone, particularly to those of greater rank. For those of equal rank, the Auspice Council holds precedence over the Tribal Alphas. For kin, those with renown hold precedence over those without.

“In case of dispute, we will not go to challenges because of the mixed crowd. A Philodox will be called upon to mediate. If mediation fails, I am the final arbiter.

“Anyone violating these rules once will be given one warning, and one only. After that, you’re out of the meeting, and your viewpoint will be disregarded. The staff has kindly set up refreshments in the kitchen. If you feel yourself getting hot under the collar, go get a drink and come back when you’re calmer.

“Now — settle in, everyone. The meeting will formally begin in,” a glance at his wristwatch, “five minutes.”

[okay folks, go ahead and post in if you want to! otherwise we’ll just assume you’re here. BwF will open the floor shortly!]

[Balance Without Fault] [erp, change that to read: “After that, you’re out of the meeting, your viewpoint will be disregarded, and appropriate judgment will be rendered.”]

[Jackson Montgomery] [[Not posting in]]

[August Grant] August had arrived early. She wanted a good seat. By some reason – she thought that this might end up turning into a good show – and she wanted to be in the front row.

The Coggie kinfolk had dressed up for this evening. She wore a soft pink colored sweater with a V-neck, a pair of skinny jeans and dark brown heeled boots. She no longer attempted to hide her belly which was beginning to swell. There was no point any longer. And, against one shoulder, her little one, Ella, slept peacefully. {Who was gonna watch the kid afterall, all the kinfolk were here!}

She really had no intention of saying anything – she was just here to listen. And maybe eye a certain young man who she kinda had a crush on.

[Leon Davenport] Leon arrived at the meeting, not entirely sure if he should be there but being there nonetheless. He had annonced that he was gonig to take the Glass Walkers kin under his protection and no one challenged him. So, guess it means he was the tribe’s Elder in some way. If not, well Balance Without Fault will kick him out. Better to presume tonight than miss honoring your duties.

He was dressed nicely, in a dark, striped suit with a blue shirt and tie. He walked in, looking around, bowing slightly to BWF and Lukas, nodding to to Gina and Jackson, mostly ignoring the rest. Either he didn’t know them or..didn’t care to acknowledge them.

[Rain McKellar] August had company in the early arrivals. Another Unicorn, this one with dark hair and no babe in arms. The songbird is bereft of her usual company, no dark case at her side, no voice to share with the others. She’s wearing her best, dark jeans and a neatly pressed white button down. Though her warmth could be infectious, could spread to fill a room even this wide and this full of faces, Rain kept that charisma and that smile and that presence quiet tonight. She takes her seat with her Tribe, folds her hands in her lap, and watches the others filter in and settle themselves.

[Joey] [I won’t be posting Quinn in unless she has something to say, but she’s there!]

[Balance Without Fault] As soon as Balance lays eyes on August’s baby, he beckons Jenny over. The Fianna kinswoman bends as the Grand Elder lifts his chin, speaking directly to her ear. After a moment she nods, walks across the floor, and offers August an apologetic smile.

“Miss, the Grand Elder wanted me to take your baby upstairs for a few hours. There’s a lotta Rage in here and we don’t want your little one havin’ nightmares. I’ll leave her with Reuben; she’ll be in good hands.”

[Izzy Montoya] Unsurprisingly, it’s the goddamn Brotherhood Of motherfucking Thieves where they decide to have this little powwow. Izzy can count the number of times she’s willingly set foot in this establishment since her imprisonment here on one hand. Hell, on two fingers if she counts this time, though it’s not exactly willingness that has her here. It might be considered curiosity, but more likely it’s a simple thing:

Kora asked. Izzy came.

It says something, that. She’s a respect for The Jarl, (Not her[i] jarl, [i]the jarl. A minute difference that means something to Izzy alone), for the Last Watch. She’s dressed as she always is – business casual, with her weapon a bulge at the small of her back under her blazer, her hair down, her expression… well. Expressionless, other than a slight jump of the muscle at the hinge of her jaw, where she clenches her teeth together briefly, sets her jaw, lifts her chin and enters.

And gets a drink. No way is she sitting through this stone cold sober. No fucking way.

[Hunter] Hunter Matthews stalks through the door with his pack-mate and a certain bone-gnawer kin while everyone is still milling around. Seats are taken, Hunter remains silent.

[Balance Without Fault] [folks, it was pointed out to me that kieran was the only uktena in town, and ergo the default uktena alpha. if anyone has him in AIM, call him back in!]

[Gina McClaren] *Gina’d come home late, but that hadn’t stopped the pikey from being in the kitchen and underfoot since early morning. The more time she spent at Jenny’s elbow, the more likely it was the saintly blonde would let slip the secrets to her cranberry oat-muffins. As folks file in the Strider pickpocket finally emerges from the kitchen, long hair bound in a messy loop off her neck, floury hand marks on the dull black of her skirt, tank top askew, a smudge of icing sugar across a caramel shoulder. She hops up on a stool near the back, as far removed from those of her tribe as she can get. God knew her voice would carry if she had anything to say in earnest. Those she knows get nods of recognition, and a worn smile.*

[Carter Roth] Carter is present, but he remains close to the exit his hands deep within his pockets and his eyes wary and mistrustful, he didnt know what this was all about and he didnt like it one bit.

But he was here, as a test of himself and a test of the garou, to see what they were up to. He couldn’t very well pass up that now could he.

[Carter is here, but I may not be going to be on and off]

[Rosie] The certain Bone Gnawer kinfolk finds a seat near or by or somewhere in the vicinity of Hunter. She sits: quiet and unobtrusive.

[Amunet Knezevic] Amunet made her way in quietly, several minutes before the meeting was to start. She’s in her own jacket, and the iPad has been left at the condo. She remembers very few times in her life when she has been this nervous. When so much has been riding on a single night.

Moving to the far side of the room, she finds a spot where she can watch the comings and goings, back against the wall to protect herself from surprises. Her eyes flicker around the room as it populates, but the only one they rest on more than a second or two is her sister.

[Holden] A grizzly bearded Fenrir takes a seat out of the way, he doesn’t suppose he will have much to say so the distance does him well.

[August Grant] Oh good! Someone to watch the baby! August likes Jenny – afterall, they spent a lot of time hanging out in the kitchen when August lived here..

The young woman gives Jenny a smile. “Of course.. I didn’t have anyone else to watch her.. Thank you. Tell Reuben she might be hungry..” Ella gets a kiss on the side of her head and the baby is lifted from her arms and offered out to the kin.. a moment later, the diaper bag is also offered out.

[Starla Navarro] There is a painted Unicorn that has joined the others, Starla following on Rain’s heels easily, ducking her head down as she finds a seat next to her tribe mate. Dark head lifting to look around, skirting her eyes across the room at the faces that were familiar and not; the freckles dance across the bridge of her nose and her left cheek. She tucks her hands in her lap, leaning to the side to nudge Rain’s shoulder with her own.

[Kyle] (Not going to post for Kyle unless he has something to say or someone asks him questions other wise he’s just doing his usual watch and listen routine ­čÖé )

[Bridget Geroux] The Canadian Fianna kinfolk finds herself at this gathering in her usual state of confusion. She doesn’t look quite like she knows what’s going on. However, she doesn’t appear to be under the influence of anything. She wears a simple black maxi dress, gathered at the waist by a beat-up leather belt, a hunter green jacket covering her bare shoulders, and of course her combat boots.

Bridget finds a place to sit where she can stretch her legs: she knows she’ll probably want to fidget if the Rage gets a bit much. She also wisely follows Izzy’s lead by getting herself a small glass of whiskey. She returns and smiles at the few here she recognizes and is on good terms with: Hunter, Gina, Kyle, Sarita. The Fianna kinswoman does her best to control the feral urges to move around while surrounded by so much Rage.

[Kora] A cool spring evening; spring already, light lingering in the west far longer than she had remembered. The heavily pregnant Fenrir – eight months, perhaps more? – pushes past the private party signs, into the familiar restaurant interior. Her hair is twisted into a loose braid, strands pulled free by the wind. Kora is slower than she was; careful of her body. She walks with her shoulders pulled further back to balance the weight of her stomach. Which is all the more evident when she strips off her winter coat and sets it aside on a coat tree, wrapping a hand-knitted scarf around it in a winding pattern.

She finds her way among her kin, but does not take a seat. Instead, she remains standing at their back, her feet shoulder-width apart, her arms crossed – below her breasts, above the swell of her stomach. There is an expectant tension in her spine and shoulders, and a firm set to her jaw.

[Derek Anderson] Derek came in, dressed in pants and sweater, his kind blue eyes looking around. He bowed respectfully to Balance Without Fault, did the same for Lukas and walked around, greeting those he knew a little with a nod: Hunter, Amunet, Gina, Matthieu and Jackson when the last two arrive.

He nodded and smiled slightly at Sarita when he see her. Izzy received a grin when he pass her by “Hello Detective”

His attention then was on August and Rain, offering htem a warm smile and walking to them “Good evening ladies, I hope you’re doing well”

[Danicka Musil] [I’m totally making Damon post Danicka in with Lukas. I’m in the middle of eating. :p ]

[Wyrmbreaker] Punctual, Lukas arrives moments before Balance lays down the protocol for the meeting. And not in his own car but in Danicka’s, riding shotgun while scarfing down the last of whatever dinner they went out to. Looks like lamb-stuffed cabbage.

Getting out, anyone looking out the windows can see him stepping out of her car, buttoning his overcoat against the wind. He moves ahead to get the door; she laughs, running a few steps after him, which makes him turn around, which gives her the opportunity to lean up and wipe a dab of tomato-based sauce from his cheek. And kiss him.

Public displays of affection out of his system, Wyrmbreaker is somber and dignified, walking in the door. He sees that his wingback chair is taken, the other cleared away. He goes to sit by the bar instead, where Danny hovers with a nervous grin.

“No drinks here tonight, Mr. Wyrmbreaker. Grand Elder says all the food and alcoholic drink is to be served in the kitchen. Nothing but ice water here.”

Lukas huffs a laugh under his breath. “Not a problem, Danny.” He takes a seat on a barstool, shifting one a little closer for Danicka.

[Matthieu] Matthieu arrives on time, even a little early. Ever the peacock the lovely Silver Fang arrives just in time to display the finely crafted suit that he has doubtless poured six months of your average man’s salary into getting each and every thread just right. His entrance was as much a display of his tribes divine right as it was a display of his own natural beauty. Not only was he the representative of his Auspice on the council now but he also stood as Alpha of Harrier’s grace. He was a living representative not only of his tribe but his house as well. Ever regal and dignified. His skin was smooth and pale and his hair looked as if it had been kissed by the golden rays of the sun itself. Falcon’s child carried with him the legacy of a house, and the history and hopes of an entire nation.

He listened to Balances without Fault and nods in agreement with the rules. He was here to listen, and to speak when it was needed. Tradition would be the focus of his reasons for being here. Support of tradition and remembrance of ancient ways. His blood ran hot with the memories of a past tens of thousands of years old. A creature of the modern world and yet still firmly grounded in the wisdom of eras ling since passed.

He keeps his eyes forward most of the time. However, when he is finally seated his eyes do drift somewhere to the back. His eyes drawing in to focus on the Strider kin hiding in the back. Pausing to give his own acknowledgement of her presence. His eyes take the time to wander, perhaps linger, and the act brings a slight smile to his lips a smile which might or might not be shared by the both of them. None the less… His eyes were hard pressed to pull themselves away, and in fact he didn’t see any reason to draw them away until the meeting officially started.

[Joey] Joey enters with Hunter and his kinswoman, but once they’re through the door departs their company to sit closer to the rest of the auspice council. A smile is offered to those she recognizes, dim compared to what it used to be, an upward nod to Balance Without Fault, and Lukas.

Once she’s settled, she seeks out Hunter, meets his gaze, and grins.

[Kieran Mondblume] *He looks a little bit intimidated, all things considered, as he walks into the meeting. He finds a place to sit. His shirt is a lovely shade of light purple; his jeans are black. His flip-flops, a lovely shade of maroon. Lukas’ words make his head swivel, and his eyes widen. Food? No… ice water. He slumps slightly, disappointed, as he waits for everything to begin.*

[Balance Without Fault] [Sorry for the confusion – “no drinks here tonight” was spoken by Danny, bartender kid NPC kin! I’ll try to keep all my NPCing in this name.]

[Delilah Marciano] Back of the room, quiet as a dormouse; the Glass Walker makes an appearance. Dark hair gathered up from her shoulders, she sits alone at one of the tables in the back of the room, whichever was closest to the front. The phone in her hand muted as she set it on the table, dressed in dark charcoal pantsuit with red pinstripe. Silvery gaze focused on those around her.

[Kieran Mondblume] ((Ahh hell. *smacks forehead* My bad.))

[Balance Without Fault] When everyone has settled, Balance Without Fault picks up the magic eightball and speaks again.

“Okay, let’s come to order. Some of you might be wondering why this meeting was called. The reason is simple: over the last month, there have been more rumors and murmurs of kin discontent than in the past five years. Furthermore, there’s been a troubling trend toward Kin thinking of themselves as separate and distinct from the Garou when we are all part of the same Nation. I wanted to dispel the rumors, clear the air, set a basic infrastructure down, and move on from tonight as a re-unified force.

“With that in mind, let’s hear from the kin first. What exactly are your concerns or complaints at the moment?”

He tosses the eightball toward the first kin to call for it.

[Adamidas] Adam slips in and, for the time being, keeps her mouth shut. She doesn’t draw attention to herself, or the fact that she left the bathroom with a pop and keeps herself quietly nestled in.

[Balance Without Fault] [For latecomers who missed it, this was BwF’s protocol post —

“Welcome, everyone. Thanks for coming. Here are the rules tonight: one speaker at a time. He or she who holds the magic eight ball,” and he holds this aloft, “speaks. No one else.

“Keep a respectful tone, particularly to those of greater rank. For those of equal rank, the Auspice Council holds precedence over the Tribal Alphas. For kin, those with renown hold precedence over those without.

“In case of dispute, we will not go to challenges because of the mixed crowd. A Philodox will be called upon to mediate. If mediation fails, I am the final arbiter.

“Anyone violating these rules once will be given one warning, and one only. After that, you’re out of the meeting, and your viewpoint will be disregarded. The staff has kindly set up refreshments in the kitchen. If you feel yourself getting hot under the collar, go get a drink and come back when you’re calmer.”]

[Amunet Knezevic] [Dibs, unless anyone is going to claim it?]

[Balance Without Fault] [whoever types fastest, man.]

[Balance Without Fault] [and on that note, since we’re a scene of twenty-seven right now — let’s try to keep posts short and snappy. i know i’m one of the chief offenders here, but i’m really going to try to keep responses to

[Joey] [yeah that’s pretty short!]

[Amunet Knezevic] “Balance Without Fault Rhya.” Deep breath, Ames. “My name is Amunet Knezevic. I am that one that placed the notice on the board, and the one who has been organizing the willing kinfolk. I believe that this in part may be the cause of the perception of discontent. I would like to clear up any confusion, as our intentions may not be as clear as they should be.”

[Balance Without Fault] [okay, i changed my mind — go ahead and call dibs if you have a longer post to type so you don’t lose your chance. but i’m gonna say you have 10 min from the time you call dibs to get it out, just to keep things moving!]

Balance nods. “Let’s hear it.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[She says she’s almost done, it’s a biggie!]]

[Danicka Musil] The Happy Couple — and frankly, they are, however smirkingly saccharine the nomenclature — comes in together, but they leave their more obvious public displays of affection at the door. Danicka is wearing a knee-length gray skirt and knee-high black heels, beneath which are a pair of stockings that extend a little higher than the boots themselves. Her peacoat is doffed when she comes in, hung over the back of a chair no one is using that’s been shoved over by the bar. Underneath is a casual, gauze-thin sweater of seafoam green, laid atop the hint of a camisole. There’s a white applique in some abstract pattern to one side of chest of the sweater, but all of this is just [window] dressing.

Danicka Musil is not the most renowned Kinswoman in Chicago. Not by far. But she is the most renowned Kinfolk here. The Garou, if they ever mention her to each other, if the spirits ever talk about her, don’t talk much about how many fomori she’s killed or that one time she shot a zombie or so forth. She’s known to be brave, to be a Good Kinswoman. Mostly, she’s known to be wise. Granted, when she comes up, it’s hardly even by name. Garou call her Wyrmbreaker-rhya’s mate. And they say that Wyrmbreaker-rhya’s mate is clever, isn’t she? Oh yes, I’ve heard she’s a bit of a bright one.

It’s childish. It’s condescending. But that she is known to be anything at all beyond the mate of an Adren who has not yet given him a child, and that her reputation is solid as a Good Kin is impressive at all. She can’t cast rites, she can’t learn gifts. She can just be… a clever little thing. Good job, Wyrmbreaker. Now stop dicking around and knock her up.

When the magic 8-ball is first offered to the kin, it’s Amunet — rightly so — who reaches for it. Danicka, perhaps there just as a show of support for her comrades, perhaps just because she’s supposed to be there and she’s obedient, turns her eyes towards the Strider she met with last night, her murky green eyes interested. Thoughtful.

[Amunet Knezevic] “My intention is to gather the interested kinfolk in a network that will help the Trueborn, not work against them. Among the first concerns that are being addressed are training and information.”

Her eyes flicker to Sarita, then back to Balance. “It is necessary for us to be able to contact one another easily, not only in emergencies but in everyday circumstances where one of us may need another’s expertise. One of the first projects will be a listing of the kin and their contact information. This will be heavily guarded, not because I don’t want the information to be accessible but because I understand the danger of this type of thing getting into the wrong hands. Cordelia and Jackson have volunteered to begin this process, and to make sure that the information is secure.”

Our second focus is going to be self defense training. We are human, at the end of the day. We can’t count on the Trueborn to be our protectors when they have a war to fight. Carter has extensive self defense training, and he has offered to run a boot camp of sorts for those who are interested. As with everything that we are working toward, it will be voluntary. I don’t want to force any kin to join us, or accept any sort of training except for the third focus.”

She stops for breath. “I would like to see every kin trained in basic first aid. This accomplishes two purposes. Should any of us be injured, there will likely be someone close by to help. Again, we are human. We don’t heal ourselves, and we are out in the world. The dangers that we face come not only from our enemies, but from the people that we are surrounded with every day.

I’ve seen an amazing number of Trueborn that are more than willing to step up and heal a kin that is injured. This is honorable, but wasteful. Again, we are at war. We could be attacked at any time, and should that happen, which of the kin would be responsible for sapping a Trueborn’s gnosis by being healed out of panic or unnecessarily. Prepared kin are kin that are not a drain on the Nation’s resources.”

Her fingers run in her hair nervously, and she licks her bottom lip before continuing. “I’ve been in a Sept that was attacked. I have a clearer understanding of what happens than some of the kin do. I watched kin die, because no one was able to triage them. I watched kin die, because they had all become complacent and lazy and spoiled by well meaning Trueborn. I have friends here. I don’t want to see the same thing happen again. That is why I’ve made this move. That is why these three goals are my first”

[Balance Without Fault] “That’s all well and good,” Balance replies as the eightball comes back to him, “and I’m glad to hear you’re trying to organize the kin. See to it that the Warder has a list of these kin and contacts as well. Areas of specialization, too, if possible. We had something like that for a while, but the parties responsible for its maintenance drifted off.

“Regarding self defense and basic first aid — that sounds like a wise investment. We’ve got a few kin who are accomplished physicians. You might want to get their input. As for self defense, Imogen Slaughter’s known to be a crack shot. Izzy Montoya and Derek Anderson are both with the police; surely they know how to handle a gun as well. You might want to seek their services as well.

“But all that aside — Amunet, you’ve told me everything that’s working. Or that you want to be working, at least. I’m asking why I keep hearing murmurs of discontent.”

[Amunet Knezevic] “Some of the kin that have shown interest are not content, Rhya. Trueborn have become accustomed to dictating to us, and the kin have become accustomed to allowing it. Not only here, but other places where several of the new kin have come from, bringing their biases with them. This has bred discontent. I am in no way suggesting that we should be treated as equals. The fact is that we are not. I would suggest though that we are kept informed, so that when decisions are made and passed down, they do not seem arbitrary and dictatorial. Your kin are willing to work together with the Trueborn, Rhya. We just need a path to follow.”

[Balance Without Fault] Balance Without Fault considers Amunet a moment. Then he sweeps a glance around the room.

“I don’t want to put you under a microscope this early in the night, Amunet.” Maybe that’s a joke. The half-smile says it is. He raises his voice, “Let’s hear from someone other than Amunet. Kinfolk of Maelstrom, this might be one of the few or only times in your life that the Elder Council and the Tribal Alphas of an entire Sept are gathered, silent, with open ears — waiting to hear from you.

“If you’ve got issues, bring them forward.”

[Jackson Montgomery] [[DIBS!]]

[Izzy Montoya] She hadn’t intended to talk. In fact, she hadn’t intended to make a sound at all, but at that, she snorts. Audibly. But that is all, as she starts the ritual search through her pockets for her cigarettes and lighter. she finds both – but doesn’t put them to use other than to keep her hands busy.

After all – smoking inside is against the law.

[Jackson Montgomery] He stands, perhaps unexpectedly, and goes to claim the magic 8-Ball. “I think, if I can speak to this, that a lot of the reported discontent is simple due to the fact that some of the initial ideas being brainstormed are coming out and they aren’t even formalized yet. And some Garou have been volunteering their involvement…which is great. There’s been an impression that this is quickly becoming Garou vs. kinfolk, and that’s not the case.

“The thing is, when a lot of Garou get heavily involved in this, even in the planning stage, it belies the fact that it goes right back to the idea that the kinfolk are relying on the Garou instead of standing on their own. I’ve been talking a lot with Amunet about this, and we’ve come up with some good ideas. And at no point are we trying to push this into two separate factions. But the old saying goes, too many cooks spoil the soup, and there are a lot of kinfolk even as it is with very different viewpoints. We absolutely plan to make this a thing where we’re all involved in the same mission, but we need an actual plan in place for what we’re doing before we start implementing that and integrating it with the Garou side.”

[Balance Without Fault] Balance Without Fault’s eyes swing immediately to Izzy. When he gets the eightball back, he tosses it toward her.

“You sounded like you wanted to be heard, Izzy. Let’s hear it.”

[August Grant] August shifted in her chair. It was slightly uncomfortable for her to sit in the same position for too long these days. A slender hand rubbed at the side of her belly – perhaps where a persistent foot was intent on kicking her. She didn’t say anything.

No matter the extent of her past issues with this Sept.. in her mind, all were resolved as well as they could be at the moment. And, given that her cheating, lying, deadbeat, no good, s-o-b of a former mate had fled, she was a happy camper. Her gaze did shift to her tribesmate as he stood, however.

[Nash] Oh crap when did he get here.

Nash, who most here don’t recognize but for the breeding that pegs him as one of Fenris’s Kin, slips in quietly as Amy is discussing her desire to see Kinfolk trained in first aid. He works his way around the room to stand near Kora and tries to get his happy ass caught up while his player does paperwork.

[Kieran Mondblume] *He watches, back and forth. From Amy, to Jackson, and then to Izzy. Waiting, really, curious about all of this.*

[Izzy Montoya] She arches a brow, ups both her cigarettes and lighter into one hand and still catches the 8ball with a negligent ease. There are some things that become inherrant when one works in a male dominated workplace – like catching random objects being thrown at her.

She waits a moment, then two. She doesn’t look to Kora for permission as some might. She looks to no one – which is not unexpected from anyone that knows her in anyway at all. She is, and always will be, her own person. He wants to hear it. So he does.

“It’s bullshit. You sit there and say you want to hear, you want to fuckin’ listen, and it’s all fuckin’ bullshit. Not a one of you give two shits about what we do or don’t do, unless it directly involves you. Not a one gives two shits about what we might have to do for you in our jobs, what we might have to compromise in order to save your fuckin’ asses in a world you think you’re above – even while declaring you want to fuckin’ save it. Not a one of you.. not even Kora, whom I’ve grown to respect, did shit all when I was beat by one of you, imprisoned here of all fuckin’ places, and sent to work with injuries so severe that half my department wanted to come after whoever had fucked me up with guns blazing. Not a one of you gives two fuckin’ shits – and this is all a fuckin’ sham.”

He hears it. Both barrels.

She points at Amy. “That bitch has been lookin to get her goose cooked since she got here. And the latest scheme? Good god. she’s gonna get us all fuckin’ killed. And likely not by the enemy. Discontent.” she snorts again. “I won’t fuckin talk for anyone else – and don’t you dare speak for me either, I can get my ass beat all by myself – it doesn’t matter what you say here. In the end – you all will do what you want, and I’ll do my fuckin job just as I always have, and do a goddamn good job of it. I’ll cover my ass, your ass, everyone’s ass who I can manage to cover – but don’t expect me to believe that – for one fuckin second – you give a good goddamn what happens in the world we have to travel through every goddamn day. You don’t. You haven’t yet – and one night won’t make it so.”

To her credit though – not once does she raise her voice. If anything.. she sounds… tired.

[Danicka Musil] [Dibs!]

[Balance Without Fault] “Keep your tone respectful,” Balance says evenly. “That’s your only warning.”

That’s all he says for now. He lobs the eightball toward Danicka.

[Gina McClaren] *Restless as Striders were wont to be, Gina hops down from her stool, sashays into the kitchen, and fetches herself a couple of deep-fried wontons filed with hazelnut chocolate and cream cheese.
She pads back into the room midway through the detective’s speech, and settles on her stool once more.

Izzy finishes up, and Gina’s expression darkens a moment.

Then the detective has to use those finely honed reflexes again in short order. As a pikey whistles sharply then overhand tosses a wonton to the weary Fenris kin. Whether in agreement or simply in a bid to get her to cram it – only the guttersnipe herself knows.*

[Nash] Nash claps a few times after Izzy finishes. Not a purposefully sarcastic Slow Clap, but it is a bit on the slow side anyway. He seems to be favoring his right wrist. It lasts a few seconds, and then he stops at the Grand Elder’s warning to keep a respectful tone.

[Hunter] Holden wanders through the room to stand next to Nash and the other Fenrir. He gives a nod to the equally tall man from the north [south] along with a grin of approval.

[Hunter] [OOPS]

[Izzy Montoya] She catches the wonton. Easily.

And manages not to point out that she WAS respectful. For her.

[Danicka Musil] Everyone in the room is free to judge according to their own perspectives what it says about Danicka that when Balance Without Fault lobs the 8-ball at her, she doesn’t even try to catch it. She actually flinches somewhat out of the way, and it’s Lukas who snatches the thing out of the air, handing it to her. Some will call her oblivious that she doesn’t seem chagrined or embarrassed as she takes it from him. She’s a slender sort, not remotely athletic from the look of her.

Sometimes Garou hear of what she’s done to minions of the Wyrm, see her, say, Her?

Holding the ball in cupped palms, she speaks up for the first time, her tone clear and level. She addresses Balance Without Fault. “A lot of what Detective Montoya just said is true. Amunet, as well. We aren’t… like you,” she says, though in a tone that suggests even she realizes how weak that statement is, how far it falls from encompassing the truth. “No matter how much we care about our families, about the world we live in, or about the war — and I think all of us do care, though to wildly different degrees and in different ways — we don’t form ourselves naturally into packs. We are not asked to give everything, a hundred percent, to fighting this war. For Garou, the war is everything. Anything else is marginalized, because it has to be.

“For Kinfolk,” she goes on, “it’s the opposite. We live our lives. I go to school, Detective Montoya goes to the precinct, August feeds and diapers her children, Gina dances, we all… have a life. The war, however important it is to us individually, often comes as an intrusion to the rest of who we are and what we do.”

Danicka quiets for a small pause, clears her throat, but doesn’t give up the 8-ball. “Sometimes when we get hurt, Garou come running. Sometimes they don’t. Sometimes when there’s a fight on our doorstep, we have to fight it because there’s no way to run fast enough. Other times we have to give it up as though that’s the natural, only course of action.” Another beat, this one for effect more than to breathe. “The truth of what Detective Montoya says is this: most, if not all Garou, spend the majority of their time focused on things that have nothing to do with us. We are expected to carry on by ourselves without them, unless they show up. And if they do show up, usually without warning and sometimes even without need, we are expected to drop everything to obey them.

“-Rhya, all of us have our own prejudices and biases and differing levels of committment — as well as angst. All of us care. But the discontent comes when we are kept to the sides all of the time, then told to shut up and submit the moment a garou ten or twenty years our junior shows up and acts like they’re our protector. I think what Amunet and her alliance are trying to do is to increase our involvement so that at least the marginalization is lessened. But the discontent is already there. The frustration. The affront, frankly.”

She stops there. She could go on. But she’s talked a great deal, and she silences for now.

[Bridget Geroux] [Dibs]

[Danicka Musil] [Other times we have to give it up and let the Garou fight for us as though that’s the natural, only course of action. GAH!]

[Kora] Nash comes in; the Skald gives him a side glance. It lingers a long moment longer than it otherwise might; then her attention is back on the center of the room. The thin cotton of her extra-long tunic pulls over her shoulders, muscles bunching with a subtle tension, mostly withheld. Her long braid swings down the dip of her spine. A faint lift of her chin, watching Holden weave through the room to join the tribe; a brief glance in Gina’s direction follows after, before her attention returns to the center of the room, following the movement of the eight-ball to Danicka. Once, she shifts positions. Widens her stance, leans further back, relieving some of the unending pressure on her spine. Uncrosses and recrosses her arms.

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget sighs when it comes around her direction, careful to look at the eight ball when she holds it up. “Balance Without Fault Rhya, thank you for putting it in the light that we are all a part of the Nation. My name is Bridget Geroux. I know that every Sept is different, and I don’t have any expectations, but the Sept I am from is much smaller. We know each other well, and there is structure. Here, I don’t see the unity. I see reluctance, pain, anguish, and I see anger and pride disconnecting us from one another. Kin from kin, kin from tribesmen… and I wouldn’t presume to understand what goes on among Garou, but if that same disconnect exists on that level… it worries me.”

“And despite the recent bonding efforts to organize the kinfolk, I see a disconnect there as well. It’s a great idea, a great application, a wise and honorable action, but even with the application, I notice those same destructive traits. Just last week, I noticed a separation when a well-meaning Garou was not trying to interfere, but possibly trying to bridge gaps between Garou and kinfolk within Amunet’s… organization, fellowship. Whatever it will be called. And the way she jealously guards it and some others have just jumped on without gauging the situation seems too much like a Jonestown situation to me.”

Bridget takes a breath, exercising great efforts not to swear or fidget. “Maybe this is my own experience, but since I’ve moved here I have never felt more disconnected to my tribe despite my attempts to bridge gaps. At what point should I just go about my business, despite everything my father taught me? I’m… going to open myself up here and speak as truly as I possibly can, but it hurts me to have such a tentative relationship with the other Fianna.”

“This is all perhaps touching on the path Amunet spoke of, but I wouldn’t presume to speak for anyone but myself. I’m not good with a gun or first aid, but I know how to survive in the wilderness with nothing… I know how to work crowds, to work a public social setting. I know I’m not useless, but I feel that way when it comes to the Nation when my offers and talents are dismissed so quickly and without regard to its usefulness. I know how to stand well enough on my own, and I’ve done as much as I can to contribute… but I feel as if there is no point when I’m told to stay inside, discouraged from doing what I’m good at, and still held at such a distance. It’s all too condescending.”

Bridget looks to Izzy now, then sighs. “In a lot of ways, I feel exactly like no one gives a damn whether or not we all rot, what we have to go through or put up with and barely even a hint of recognition, if any of that even matters. I feel like many of us are just a bunch of wild things kept in guilded cages. If you keep any living thing from doing what it’s supposed to do, that’s not a life worth living. I don’t know what else to do but be discontent when I’m expected to stay out of the woods, don’t go make music or connections, don’t spend so much time out in the world doing what I do. I can follow orders, do what needs to be done, but I’m not a machine.”

[Balance Without Fault] [dibs!]

[Balance Without Fault] “I want to take a moment to clarify the purpose of this meeting.

“Jackson, I heard you about needing to get the kin coalition in order before plugging it into the grander framework of the Nation. I agree. Bridget, Izzy, I’ve heard from you both that the way things are going in the coalition are not optimal at the moment. But we’re not here to discuss the kinfolk coalition alone. We should address it more thoroughly, and we will — in a moment.

“We’re not here to discuss how Garou interface with the world, either, Izzy. We’re not here to change the way Garou and kin interact, because that — as Danicka points out — has been set for thousands of years. As you yourself have pointed out, it won’t change in a night.

“As much as you may feel downtrodden and unappreciated, realize that every last Garou in this room, on this planet, will die before age thirty. And they give this sacrifice so that you have a human world to interface in, just as you sacrifice your job and career and human life to support these Garou. The sacrifice goes both ways. And while you might not like it, we are in the end Gaia’s army. There is a ranking order, and it is dictated, ultimately, by our renown.

“But I digress. What we can do, what I want to do here tonight — specifically, without speaking in broad terms and vagueries — is to address points of discontent amongst the kin. I have specific incidents in my mind that I want to discuss, but I want to hear from the kin first.

“If nothing else, no matter how she brought it up — Izzy has noted some sources of discontent for herself. For that, I thank you, Detective Montoya.

“She Who Offers Sorrow, your kinfolk has raised an complaint about the way she’s been treated in the past. She says she’s been beaten and unfairly imprisoned. See to her concerns. If you decide her past punishment was just, then so be it. If it was unjust, make amends as you best see fit.

“Before we move on to other topics, are there any other specific grievances the kin wish to bring forth?”

[Rain McKellar] [Dibs, please!]

[Danicka Musil] Her eyes flick to the Grand Elder when he brings her up, gives at least one interpretation of what she said. She doesn’t ask for the 8-ball again though.

[Balance Without Fault] [erp. “will MOST LIKELY die before age thirty.” seeing as how BWF is like… 45.]

[Carter Roth] [Dibs after Rain]

[Jackson Montgomery] [[“You’re all gonna die before 30…except me. For I am Elite.”]]

[August Grant] {Very short dibs after Rain + Carter}

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Sarita could be accused, often, of not taking things seriously enough. When your deed name is “Echoes of Laughter,” it’s a natural course of people’s thoughts on how you will react. She’s stayed quiet here, sitting near her Alpha and watching…listening. She doesn’t give anyone a particularly strong reaction when they speak. Amy gets a slight smile; Izzy a little frown. The others, she remains even-tempered, thoughtful.

The Strider is doing her best to listen and learn. She’s not even tapping her toe to some sort of tacky dance pop crap.

[Rain McKellar] The girl who rises to claim the magic eight ball next has nothing in her blood that calls out to her Tribe. She has no renown among them. Cloistered as she is with the rest of Unicorn’s kin, this gives some suggestion as to her allegiances.

Catching the eight-ball is only part of the struggle, here. And before she addresses the Grand Elder, her glance slides sideways to the Fenrir Jarl. Her shoulders square, and she calms herself a bit.

“Mr. Grand Elder, sir,” she begins, and her voice rises easily above the gathering. Unexpectedly warm. Captivating, it calls attention to her in ways that might surprise them.

“My name is Rain McKellar, and before I was kin to Unicorn’s chosen, I was Lost.” She says this plainly. “The places I have been treated their kinfolk much differently than here, and I appreciate that you have called us together and allowed us to air our concerns.

“I have no complaints about how I have been treated by my Tribe, nor by the pack that I live with. My Family has been good to me, perhaps better than they should have been by some of what others have said tonight. If I can help in any way, so that kindness and shelter can be extended to others, please let me know.”

Here she swallows and looks down at the eight ball for a moment.

“If I have any complaint it is that, in the intention of being helpful or showing their concern, some True offer up conflicting information. I am concerned about the thing that is hunting Kinfolk. I would like to know, plainly put, what best I should do to protect myself and to help your war efforts. If this has already been communicated to the Tribal and pack Alphas, then I will seek answers with Mr. Roman or Miss Kora.”

She walks across the circle to hand back the eight-ball.

“Thank you for your time, sirs and madams.”

And then Rain retakes her seat.

[Wyrmbreaker] [Quick dibs. And sorry, Lukas is pulling rank to get it for a sec!]

[Wyrmbreaker] Wyrmbreaker, who has thus far sat quietly except to catch the ball for Danicka, raises his hand after Rain speaks. The eightball comes his way.

“I can answer that for you, Rain. The specifics of what kin should be doing is up to each Tribal Alpha. Obey whatever order they give you. As a general rule, I’d strongly suggest getting to a place where you’re protected by the Garou of your tribe. If there’s no such place available to you, come to the Brotherhood.

“As far as I’m concerned, you can chance it on your own if you really don’t want to move. But I don’t suggest it.”

Carter’s hand is up. Lukas tosses the eightball his way.

[Bridget Geroux] Seeing as her concern over being told specifically not to do what it is she does, what she’s good at, was basically glossed over, Bridget goes and gets herself something to eat. She needs to gather her thoughts for a second, fidget as she needs to with all the Rage in the room, before the Fianna kin can take her seat again. There’s a lot to think over.

[Carter Roth] Carter had had quite enough at this point. If no one would take up that magic 8 ball and speak the voice of the malcontent then he would. He strode forward taking the eight ball for himself and turned to face the garou who were gathered all powerful, all alpha’s or elder’s in their right and he held the eight ball in one heavy hand as he spoke.

“I refuse to be ruled by those who will not see me as their equal.” He lets those few treasonous words sink in as he looks across the garou, his eyes falling upon kin in equal measure. “In many places, by many of your kind we are treated like Chattel, little more then servants waiting to be used. I will not argue that here I have seen generous activity that would enrage the masters of these places for that you should be praised. But it is not enough.” He shakes his head slowly.

“Unlike the detective, who will stand and do her duty even as she knows your disregard for the kin who work tirelessly beneath your gaze. I will not, not without equality.” He pauses. “Without it, we are susceptible to every monster of your kind, every garou who believes we ARE nothing but here to serve your whim. Tell me why we should accept our lot as it stands, tell me how it makes sense that such actions continue unabated against those you call your allies, your lovers, your friends. Is an ally told to be silent because you do not like his tone? Do you force a friend to become the mate of another simply because of what lies within their veins?” He lets that settle there, lets it hang, many knew of such instances, quite often they were regular occurances.

He takes another moment to look about. “We are all capable, we are all skilled in our own ways. But we are marginalized, we are shunted aside till we are expected to serve and we will hold our tongues and be greatful for it. I will not.” He looks at Balance Without Fault. “You have said yourself that these things will not change, that they have existed for thousands of years, change it, if you hold to any future that means something for all of us…change it. You wished to hear of discontent, there it lies.”

Carter lets the 8 ball go then and he takes his place against the wall once more. His gaze even and suspicious as it was when he first stepped forward.

[Matthieu] [If I can I’d like to call Dibs after umm August!]

[Kieran Mondblume] *He is waiting, listening to all of the opinions, and he is starting to look a little concerned.*

[Nash] [Dibs are for the weak! (I’m sorry!)]

Nash doesn’t bother with the eightball. When he speaks, after Lukas and Carter have gone, he has a heavy Southern drawl. His voice isn’t terribly loud, and like Izzy, he sounds tired.

“Kinda telling, ain’t it?” he asks. “You got two Kin waiting to talk but a Trueborn can just butt on in?”

[Balance Without Fault] [BWF takes the eightball!]

[Izzy Montoya] She says nothing more – but she does step to the side and light up that cigarette after all. Someone can call the cops if they’ve got a problem with it.

[Amunet Knezevic] “Because we are NOT equal!” She snaps it, then falls instantly silent again.

[August Grant] August swallows. Did she really.. really want to go after that? Geezus christ – she was rather surprised when there wasn’t fur flying.

Once the magic-8 ball was gently -passed- in her direction, the young woman stood. She cleared her throat just a little, trying to work up the courage to speak in a room full of this many important people. She never quite looked the Elder in the eyes, but.. was looking somewhat towards him, maybe at his feet. {oooh.. where’d you get those shoes?}

“Rhya.. s.. since you wanted to know about the discontent from us.. I figured I should mention mine. My mate, up and left me for another, knowing full well I was already carrying a second child for this nation. His child. He left with me with no one to protect me and my cub. The mere fact that no one at the time thought this a grevious act was insulting. It bred resentment.. and.. until I found allies within my tribe.. ” she motioned to those seated near by, “I wasn’t at all content. Things have resolved at this point and I am fine with my lot in life. But things like that – ignoring these big giant world tearing apart events – is going to drive a wedge between us.”

A brief pause. “That is all.. thank you for your time..” A hand smoothed her sweater over her belly and she again took her seat, passing on the ball.

[Starla Navarro] Starla’s head snaps up, she turns and twists in her seat to stare right at Amunet, her eyes narrowing on the kin that snaps out her words. The corners of her mouth flatten into a thin line as she glares at her.

[Balance Without Fault] [this comes before August — sorry, but BWF would immediately react!]

Balance Without Fault snaps his fingers for the eightball. He confers briefly with Kora, gets a name, speaks.

“Stick to protocol, Nash. You too, Amunet. Next time you two step out of line, you’re out.

“In case you missed it the first time around: don’t speak without the eightball. Rank and renown takes precedence. In the event that rank is equal, the Auspice Council takes precedence over Tribal Alphas, who take precedence over the Garou, who take precedence over the kin.

“And I’m sorry, Carter, but there is no equality in the Nation. We are not a democracy.”

It passes on to August.

[August Grant] {Damn, my bad – my screen didn’t refresh. Augusts posts AFTER BWFs}

[Gina McClaren] *Gina makes a noise in her throat thats something along the lines of a pissed off gurgle. Fingers scraping through her hair and across her temples as her head falls backwards in utter frustration. Talon hands coming away from her scalp and settling on the bar with some force. *

[Danicka Musil] [Dibs, when… okay I’m not sure what the list is for dibs, but! Put me on it!]

[Delilah Marciano] Delilah eases out of the chair she sat in, her hand drops to the phone sitting on the table, picking it up and stares down at the screen for a brief second, and then tucks it away inside the inner breast pocket of her suit jacket. She is tall, only because of the advantage point her heels provide her, she stands with shoulders squared back and chin tilted up.

The woman doesn’t exactly command authority, but there is a coolness in her demeanor. A calm, collected disposition that expresses patience, clearly her gesture to stand, instead of sit idly and listen meant she had something to say. She is an unknown face, a stranger to the kin that have served this sept in the past and now in the present.

[Calling DIBS!]

[Rain McKellar] Rain’s arms are crossed low over her middle. Her expression is somewhat anxious, but when she looks up to August as the other Gaian speaks it is with as much support as she can muster in this tense environment.

[Carter Roth] Carter frowns deeply at Balance Without Faults words and he shakes his head, an angry look flitting behind his eyes.

[Balance Without Fault] — and the eightball comes back to Balance.

“I’m sorry to hear you’ve been so ill-used by your former mate, August. Tell us the name of this Garou so that we all know his dishonor.”

The eightball goes back to August.

[Dibs list is currently: August, Matthieu, Danicka, Delilah.]

[August Grant] “Paul Kellogg. He seems to have .. left..” She’d rather use the word fled.. “the city.” And once again, the eight ball is passed on.

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget stands at the doorway, listening to the conversation while munching on part of a sandwich. The tightness to her muscles and the smirk on her face expresses her discontent with the line of conversation. She takes a glass of ice water over to Carter and leans against his side. She offers the frigid beverage to the other kin, the corners of her mouth turning in a slight smile, an expression that simply says: here.

[Kora] Kora listens as Rain says her piece; her arms tighten when Balance Without Fault directs her to see to Izzy’s complaint. The look she gives the Grand Elder is direct, her expression ironic, but not wry. When Carter speaks, the heavily pregnant Fenrir audibly rolls her eyes (seriously, Nash can [i]hear/i] it). She flashes him a look when he speaks up. Except for the obvious tension, the expression is quiet, animal, unreadable.

[Starla Navarro] Starla clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, shaking her head. She looks over her should at Kora, catching the eye-rolling expression of the Jarl. She turns back in her seat, shifting closer to Rain and draws a comforting arm around the kin’s shoulders, hugging her.

[Jackson Montgomery] [[Add Jackson in after Delilah]]

[Derek Anderson] Derek listened, standing near Rain, August and Jackson. He owuld have loved to stand with people from his tribe but Sasha and Katherine weren’t there, Gabriel wasn’t invited and he didn’t rally knewMatthieu except glimpsing at him at the loft the other night.

He looked relax, hands in his pockets. He had nothing to say about all this really. He has been well treated by his Tribe, other Garou and kinfolks he has met. Well Remy was a jerk but even then, it went pretty ok when he met him. He knew some people had problems with Garou, that some had bad experiences in the past. He wasn’t one of them. Maybe it’ll come, maybe he’ll be like Izzy or maybe not. But for now, his life was good.Maybe he didn’t need much, or maybe it was his upbringing, butr he was..ok with the way things were.

[Joey] When the meeting first came to order, Joey sat looking slightly away from the circle, her head moving nearly imperceptibly to the beat of some rhythm in her head. As soon as the eight ball started going around, though, her attention was on the people in the room, her dark eyes moving from speaker to speaker. For the most part, she just watches, listening attentively. She’s silent, even when Izzy speaks up about her punishment, though there’s a tension to her brow, a slight downward turn to the corners of her mouth. The frown doesn’t leave her face, in fact worsens, especially when August speaks up, the kinswoman so obviously pregnant. Joey knew her mate, knew him for the filthy son of a bitch he could be, and not for the wisdom he supposedly held in the Nation. The fact that he would abandon his mate was hardly surprising to her, but infuriating. Wasn’t August the girl he’d once mistaken Joey for? What a prick.

[Carter Roth] Carter takes that glass with a nod to Bridget as great a thanks as he could give at the moment, and sips it, still looking displeased but for now…silent.

[Matthieu] When the 8ball comes his way he stands in his usual regal posture before kin as well as his peers. He takes the time to acknowledge all who choose to look at him with a smile before speaking up and addressing the others present.

“I hear kin speaking about unity, and about working together and about organization. So allow me to speak up and please do hear what I have to say.”

“Harrier’s Grace was founded under the idea that the Mortal world is an important one which we garou have little direct grasp upon. In the heart of a city as large as Chicago we stand in an awkward position where mundane threats could see us utterly destroyed without the means to address them.”

He takes the time to look over faces one by one.

“You wish to take part in the nation. You wish to take an active role in the pursuits of your own people then now is your chance. Harrier’s Grace was founded specifically with the Kin in mind and with time and your assistance we should like to see that all are both cared for, as well as allowed to take an active role in this nation’s happenings. We need eyes and ears, additionally we need faces and talented minds.”

“The Mundane World is your world and if “We” the Garou are to control it we need our kin to stand with it. So any who stand ready to take an active role in a pack who will share in it’s endeavours with all Garou and Kin who take part please step forth after this meeting.”He smiles a little to everyone present.

“I do not wish this to be a recruiting event for a pack but what I am hearing is that Kin would like a chance to take a more active role in their society. This is what Harrier’s Grace was formed with the intention of seeing through. So it remains relevant to the situation.”

He then looks around at the others involved.

“We are one nation, we cannot exist without the whole of that nation working in unison. Our kin are our support network, our homes, and our families. Whatever one feels of their unique and individual position within this nation know now that we are not oblivious to the plight of our kin. We live and die with the hope that our people will remember us and more than anything our people are our kin.”

“Perhaps we do not always show the proper deference or respect but we have a very difficult job.”He then turns his attention to Izzy.”When our kin stand and denounce us as if we have somehow broken some sacred vow it comes as a potent and dangerous blow. There are warriors in their graves at this very moment who have died defending the kin of this sept. I also promise you right now that if you were in danger there are at least one or two garou in this room alone who would stupidly rush off to their own deaths in order to rescue you. Remember this when you find yourself doubing the importance our kin hold to us.”

“In the end we ask of our kin nothing more or less than we ask of ourselves.”He says with a hint of a smile back at the kin.”In the end we must all stand ready to give everything for this nation if that is what we must. That cannot be negociated it simply must be.”

[Balance Without Fault] [Current dibs list: Danicka, Delilah, Jackson]

[Kora] (dibs!)

[Balance Without Fault] [and for the record – applying a -2 honor hit to Paul’s sheet for getting publicly denounced before auspice and tribal councils, plus half the city’s kin, reduced him to subcliath status. normally i wouldn’t announce minor renown tweaks, but in this case it’s a fairly substantial change in how other chars would perceive him.]

[Balance Without Fault] […if, y’know, the char ever gets reactivated *LOL*]

[Balance Without Fault] [last OOC note! if your character holds precedence and wants to use it, make a note in your dibs-calling so i don’t have to ask individually!]

[Danicka Musil] [I’m almost there! Sorry for the wait!]

[Danicka Musil] It’s as though she had mental notes. Danicka gets the 8-ball after the Galliard Elder and speaks up. Directly, in fact, to Carter Roth.

“I know what you can do,” she says plainly, and simply. Maybe even gently, though her voice is levelled directly at him in public. “I also know, and I am the only person currently in this room who knows as well as you do, what it means to be raised as a Kin of Thunder.

“The Garou will never see you as their equal. You may be able to heal with a touch, but you will never be able to fight as well as they can. You will never know what it is like to enter a new body and hunt on all fours. You cannot cross between worlds at will. You will never share a full measure of their power, and so you will never be seen as their equal.” She pauses a moment. “You say you will not work for the Nation without equality. You will never get it. And in this way — knowing what the stakes are, knowing what we all stand to lose — you are more selfish and dishonorable than any Kinfolk in this room.

“Even in human government, if you ally insults you and will not yield, will not compromise, those alliances end, often bloodily. So too will your connection to the Garou you want to treat you as an equal. Work with them or work alone, but do not get in their way or you will be cut down. We aren’t fools, Mr. Roth, not raised in our tribe. Amunet is trying to find a way to decrease our marginalization. And if you want to be involved, at some point you will have to submit to another’s leadership — and it might be Kin, but ultimately it will be to the Garou. Suck it up or get out of the way.”

A pause. She looks at Amunet. “You do guard the alliance jealously, Amunet. Bridget is right about that. You seemed secretive even to me, when I tried to show you nothing but support and interest. You need to work on that attitude, or all your efforts are going to be in vain. When you come to this meeting and then break the rules, you don’t show yourself as a very good leader for Kinfolk, much less someone the Garou might listen to. I want this to work. By god, believe me, I want this to work. But the Kinfolk have to grow up. We all have suffered, but not a thing is going to get done til we all get over it for the sake of the greater good. And those of you who can’t do that, whose angst and baggage is too much to let go of, I don’t even know why you bothered to show up.”

She takes a deep breath and exhales it slowly. “The last attempt at a coalition of kinfolk failed because the Kin involved wanted it to be some kind of perfectly equal democracy, and that will. Not. Work. Even Garou have to follow orders they don’t agree with sometimes. We do too, if we want to be of any real use at all.”

[Balance Without Fault] [delilah, jackson, kora, and then BWF is retaking the ball!]

[Kora] (drop Kora from the list, pls!)

[Carter Roth] Carter meets Danika’s gaze and he shakes his head at the woman. Before flipping her the bird, he might not have the 8 ball, so he won’t speak, but the message is clear enough.

[Delilah Marciano] When the 8 ball finds its way into the Glass Walker’s hands, she holds it up, gives it a good hard shake. She stares at the rubber triangle for a second; the curve of her generous mouth etches into a thinly veiled frown.

“Will this end well?” Delilah asks the ball, “Maybe.”

She turns her eyes up to meet the Grand Elder’s gaze for second, tilting her head to watch the rest of the room. “This, esteemed rhya, is the breeding ground for the discontent. You ask us for our opinions, you tell us to lay our grievances out into the open, so that we may be heard, so we may have a voice…”

A beat, her body shifts, rolls the plastic ball between her hands, “What is this all for? To what purpose will listening to our bitching serve you, in your judgment of us? They are unhappy, they expressed this, and yet, it will not change. We all know this – you said it yourself, it’s not a democracy.”

She shakes her head slowly, “Amunet is trying to organize an alliance, it has been said by Ms. Musil, it will not work. There is no organization, this is like trying to herd cats, they won’t cooperate without first laying a foundation. Training kinfolk in self-defense and first-aid will do very little against a monster breathing down their necks. If the Wyrm wants to kill us, it will do so.”

“The best efforts of the kin, if they wish to come together and organize, is to take a step away from the front lines, and work behind the scenes as we are meant to do. With our mortal influences, our skills, and our connections. We are the first line of defense in covering up the messes that the Garou like to make in the mundane world.”

With that, she shrugs her shoulders and hands the ball off to the next person that so desires it.

[Kora] (change my mind still keeping dibs!)

[Danicka Musil] Carter flips Danicka off. She shrugs at him and gestures to Danny that she’d like an ice water.

[Balance Without Fault] [bwf takes the ball!]

[Izzy Montoya] She looks around and finally grabs a glass of ice water, and taps her ashes into it. It’ll do for now. It also serves to keep her expression hidden for a moment.

It’s likely a good thing.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[Did he cut or did I lose my turn? ­čÖé ]]

[Holden] [cutteR!]

[Balance Without Fault] [he totally cut.]

“First and last strike for you, Mr. Roth.”

Then, to Delilah:

“I was actually about to address that. I’ve got a few things on my agenda tonight, and we’re still on number one. I’d like to hear specific concerns from kin first and settle them as I can — so frankly, Garou and kin of Maelstrom, we’re starting to get a little off topic with all the philosophy.

“After that, I’ve got two incidents I want to go over. After that, I want to discuss and settle certain issues with the coalition itself.

“Let’s get back to the kin. Specific concerns, bring them forth.”

— and on to Jackson.

[Gina McClaren] *Gina’s heard enough, and she who had a voice designed – accent and all – for other’s pleasure in her speaking – had nothing nice to say. So like her sweet pikey mother had told her with a rap of knuckles across teeth –

“Effen ye’ve naethen nice tae say, fer christs sakes jes shut yer fookin crumbhole.”

She moves towards the kitchens, bumping past the folk in the door with a low sung “Oot the road please” – before moving to fuss with the food there, warming what had grown cold, cooling what had grown warm . Taking a hefty slug from a dented flask drawn deep from the V of dark cleavage. Liquor finally offered to Bridget and Carter in turn.*

[Carter Roth] Carter grimaces at Balance without Fault and shakes his head at the man, he does not however flip the man the bird. He simply looks to Bridget who was standing by his side looked back to Balance, and dropped his water letting it clatter to the floor loudly, maybe even shatter. He looked around at his fellow kinsman, all who had come here with the understanding that they would be free to speak…obviously that was not the case.

Before he turned and walked out a brief nod given to Gina and her alcohol.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] He takes the 8-Ball with a respectful nod. Yes, he is a good kin. Mostly.

“I had one more concern to bring up, Rhyas. It seems like…and I don’t think this is an endemic issue, but I’ve seen it a couple times now…some Garou try to instruct kin who…well, really shouldn’t be. And I know people may wonder what right I have to say that. But I grew up in a family that was blessed. Both of my siblings were Garou. My father was an Ahroun. I like to think I know a fair amount, though not everything, about certain matters. I won’t give a ton of examples…but one I specifically recall is that a kin, new to our city and rather wet behind the ears, was witness to a Thrall frenzy that took place here. I was present and got the kin to safety…after I left, said kin was told by a Garou that in case of a frenzy, playing dead was a good idea. As if a Garou who was in frenzy, especially Thrall frenzy, would just leave them alone if they were lying prone and pretending to be dead.”

He pauses, trying to figure out how to word this without seeming disrespectful. “To be honest, I was dumbstruck when the kin told me this. It’s…really bad advice, to say the least. I’ve passed it on to Roman, who has passed it further on…but it seems like some Garou could use some kind of instruction themselves before they’re taking kinfolk under their responsibility.”

He hands it back to Balances-Without-Fault.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[Oh fuck. You know who that was supposed to be. ­čśŤ ]]

[Danicka Musil] [*points and laughs at samael*]

[Nash] [I for one am proud of Sarita and wish him all the best.]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[I’m working and shit and it was bound to happen eventually AND LEMME ALONE! *mock cries and runs away* Okay nah, it’s funny, ngl]]

[Balance Without Fault] Over behind the bar, Danny suddenly blurts out a cough that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. He claps his hand over his mouth and holds up the other. “I know, Mr. Balance. First and last warning. Sorry.” And he mimes the zipping of his mouth.

Balance, for his part, takes the ball and answers Jackson directly. “Do you or does anyone know the name of this Garou?”

The ball goes back to Jackson.

[Quinn] So far, Quinn hasn’t had anything to bring up, no concerns or grievances to air. For the most part, she keeps out of the way, helping where she can but generally staying under the radar. But when someone says the advice given in times of Thrall was to “play dead,” her blue eyes widen, then her fine dark brows constrict.

When she rises, it’s not to intercept that passage of the eight ball. It’s to raise a brow at Carter Roth, the look simply How rude, trail briefly in his wake, and bend to retrieve the fallen glass of water. She gestures to Danny to bring a towel or something to clean up the water.

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget writes something on a napkin and tucks it into Carter’s hand before he decides to shatter his glass all over the floor and make his way out. She stifles a tiny laugh– it’s not at all audible and she turns her face in Danny’s direction so she doesn’t disturb the conversation– but it’s there.

Gina thankfully offers up some booze, which the Stag kin thankfully takes so she can stifle her grin and shut the fuck up.

[Jackson Montgomery] He takes the ball and seems hesitant to name names at the moment. The information was passed along, but he was given a request. “Kristen. She’s a Fianna Theurge who stays here at the Brotherhood…I don’t know her last name or her deed name.” Handed back.

[Kieran Mondblume] *His eyes widen at that, and he looks back and forth. He frowns, clearly pondering.*

[Balance Without Fault] “Jenny,” Balance speaks directly to the woman watching quietly from over by the kitchen door, “can you get a message to Kristen? Let her know a Thralled Homid would sooner munch a dead body than ignore it, and that maybe she shouldn’t run around teaching the kin for a while.

“Unfortunately,” this is to all, “Garou rarely have time these days to be fully trained before stepping out into the world as Cliaths. The war’s too desperate, and we need soldiers. The downside is occasionally we get a good soldier whose education has been a little lacking in certain non-essential regards.

“There’s really no way prevent these things from happening. I can’t publish a manual of Everything You Should and Shouldn’t Say To Kin. All we can do is troubleshoot one incident at a time, so I appreciate your bringing this up.”

And the ball goes to Kora.

[Danicka Musil] There’s a glance from Shadow Lord Kinswoman to Shadow Lord Elder when Carter leaves. It’s hard to read, for those that don’t know her — for those that are, at the moment, invested in other conversations. He might understand. He might not, even as well as he knows her.

Danicka sips her ice water, and waits for the next blowup.

[Gina McClaren] *Gina’s expression at the breaking of glass is one of frank annoyance. She stands in the kitchen in her barefeet, and hisses irritation. Singing lowly to bridget – yes.. without the 8-ball.*

Trade ye tha sip o’ firewater fer yer gi’en tha broom, Bridget darlin. Dinnae fancy me bloody feet on account o’ foolishness, aye?

[Balance Without Fault] [wait, is Kristen there? i see her logged in. i know patrick’s the fianna alpha, but jacqui ain’t here tonight. well, if Kristen’s here, BWF would speak directly to her.]

[Balance Without Fault] Danny, meanwhile, is hurrying over with dustpan and broom. He shakes his head mutely at Gina and Bridget, forefinger to lips, waving them off. The message is clear: I got it!

[Kristen Burke] ((I was told that Kristen was not allowed to be here As such she has not tried to speak or rebut what was said about her.))

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget moves to action, sets her glass down on the bar, and helps pick up Carter’s mess despite her amusement. It’s alright, the movement gives her something to do. She shakes her head at Danny and helps him anyway.

[Balance Without Fault] [OK, I just saw Jacqui sign on, so I guess Kristen wouldn’t be there after all. Assume Jenny sends her a polite note repeating what BWF said, only a lot nicer and reflexively-apologetic!]

[Gina McClaren] *Gina remains in place. You know. So as not to step in glass with the bare feet. But Danny gives her the shush and she raises an eyebrow in a clear expression of “Oh Enough.” An incredulous shake of her head mirroring the Fianna’s.*

[Quinn] Quinn’s gotten most of the bigger chunks gathered carefully into one hand. When Danny arrives with dustpan and broom, she smiles warmly and rises to carry her burden to the nearest trash bin, which happens to be in the kitchen. When she comes back out again, she weaves around the outside of the circle to return to her seat.

[Kora] There’s something – implicitly feral about the heavily pregnant Garou tonight. She’s standing, not sitting. She should sit. Some of the people tonight are long winded – not telling stories, not remembering deeds, not discussing the dead – just talking.

Those closest to her can feel her restlessness like ozone in the air around her. It does not take much to bring it forward these nights, careful as she has to be now, pregnant as she is. Alone here tonight, her brother – her Godi – gone, her beta in another Sept, seeking his own tribe for challenge.

By the time the eight-ball comes her way, Carter is gone. Her dark eyes follow his path through the room; she catches the scribbing Bridget does on a napkin, watches until the kinsman has left the restaurant.

The creature’s generous mouth flattens then. Whatever she meant to say is distilled down to this: “I have kept my territory open to all tribes, Garou certainly, kin more so. It’s unreasonable to expect you to live in a city and somehow keep track of our changing, Balkanized territory. But, Wyrmbreaker-rhya, that man is barred from mine. I trust you will pass it on to him.”

[Kieran Mondblume] [Dibs?]

[Balance Without Fault] [back to BWF, then Kieran!]

[Honor’s Compass] Katherine and Patrick both here, somewhere, and their player is very apologetic for being tardy! She suggests Katherine is looking very pretty in white standing somewhere near pack-mates and as well as Balance Without Fault and Patrick is over yonder possibly looking confused — also in a very pretty way, albiet more masculine — or simply bored.

Carry on!

[Adamidas] She opens her mouth, then closes it. Her attention seems to be intent on what is going on, and before she can really say anything, the Fury turns her head in the direction of… something. Slightly to the left. She gives the Grand Elder a look and taps her chest with two index fingers, then gestures behind her with her thumb.

Whatever that look says, it must be important. If given the okay, she slips out as quickly as she enters. Just as understated, and punctuated with a pop.

[Balance Without Fault] Though Carter’s departure didn’t provoke an immediate response from the Garou named for his balance, it’s remarked on when the ball comes back into his possession.

“Wyrmbreaker, your kinsman disrespected this gathering again with his dramatic departure. See to it. And let him know that his antics only resulted in the very kin he professes to champion scrambling to clean up his mess.”

He nods to Adamidas, then, before continuing.

“At this point I’m going to make a last call for kin to bring forward their concerns. If there’s nothing else, we’re moving on.”

[on to Kieran! and if there are any more kin concerns, call dibs now cuz BWF is about to move things along]

[Quinn] [dibs because I gotta get something out in case I have to bail before the end!]

[Wyrmbreaker] Wyrmbreaker nods mutely to Kora and and Balance, the second nod deeper than the first. Then he gets up, leaning over to murmur briefly to Danicka before excusing himself from the gathering.

[Kieran Mondblume] *He pushes up, and then he takes the eight ball, shaking it idly.* Clearly, if he’s getting pissed off enough to drop a glass onto the ground and leave, something screwed up happened to him in the past. I think that’s part of the problem. We can’t fix these problems without years and years of therapy that we don’t have time for.

*He tosses the eight ball to his other hand.* But I will say, I’ve noticed every kin has their skills and talents. I don’t think I’m alone in saying, I’d like to hear about those instead.

[Quinn] The tall Fiann has retaken her seat now. It should be noted that she’s wearing clothes, and they’re probably pretty nice, and probably includes a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal the tattoo on her right arm. Nothing fancy, just some cool looking birds.

Anyway!

She sits up a little straighter when there seems to be a lull, lifts her chin, and indicates she’d like the magic eight ball next. When it comes to her, Quinn doesn’t shake it to read her fortune, though she does smile a little down at it before standing to address the assembled.

“Hello,” she says, her voice warm, and still carries a touch of a Baltimore accent. “I’m Quinn, I own The Winchester tavern up in Lake View. Some of you might’ve heard of it. Like The Brotherhood, we’ve only got kin on staff, so it’s a safe place. If any of you are in the area and find yourself in need of a place to rest or otherwise recuperate for a while, the doors are open. To Kin and Garou alike.” After that, she rolls the ball from one hand to the other, says, “That’s it,” and passes it down the line rather than tossing it to the grand elder.

[Nash] The Jarl is understandably restless. On this side of the bar, the Fenrir are all standing; Nash looks like he probably ought to sit down, but for the moment, he’s still on his feet, his right arm held up against his midsection while bruised eyes watch the proceedings–silently, now that that first [and last] outburst is over with.

There is a lot going on, between Strider and Lord Kinfolk slamming out and slamming glasses. Nash, unlike many others, doesn’t have to stifle laughter. He glances around, then finds a place to rest his eyes when Kora starts to speak. He looks back at her when the Uktena speaks, as if looking for something, but he doesn’t lean over to whisper or anything else that might be considered disruptive.

[Delilah Marciano] Delilah sighs; she steps away from the table glancing around at the assembly one final time. She has heard enough, and the Grand Elder has yet to get beyond the first line of questioning. She turns away, slipping off in silence towards the back entrance of the Brotherhood’ hand retrieves her phone, texting her driver to come around to the back side to pick her up as she left the meeting.

[Kora] There’s something about the way Kora handled the eight-ball. Held it as if it were a cracked bone, as if there were marrow in it – rather than likely toxic water locked behind a window with catchy sayings on a plastic weighted die by children chained to extruding machines in some unlikely backwater of Guangdong province, China.

That sense of animal lingers around her. Her hair is pale, fine-stranded, her skin equally pale, winter-thing, dark eyes set above sharp cheeks made softer by the extra weight of advanced pregnancy. No matter: the wolf is still visible underneath. As now. Nash glances at her, and she lifts her chin, canting her head, dark eyes finding his with an unerring sort of grace. She holds the look for a quiet moment, then glances away.

[Balance Without Fault] The eightball comes back to Balance eventually, passed hand to hand until someone loses patience and tosses it. Catching it neatly, the Grand Elder takes a drink of water before going on.

“Let’s discuss that in a minute, Kieran, when we talk about the coalition some more. I have two incidents I want to go over. Unfortunately, Amunet, they both involve you.

“First up: the Brotherhood defense plans were posted up a couple of weeks ago, and you seemed to have something to say about it. Jenny mentioned you removed the original posting as something of an act of protest.” Over by the kitchen, Jenny looks mildly mortified. “What was that about, and has that been settled?”

[Amunet Knezevic] “It was less an act of protest than an act of frustration, Rhya. Again, the perception of being dictated to, rather than being acknowledged as being willing to work together. I apologize for my rash decision, and hope that my actions will not reflect poorly on those who can be held responsible for me.”

Her fingers run in her hair, eyes flickering away before meeting BWF’s once more. “It has been offered that there be a meeting with myself and those charged with the safety of the Brotherhood. I believe it is just a matter of finding a convenient time for everyone, and then the matter should be settled.”

[Danicka Musil] [Dibs!]

[Gina McClaren] *Her flask of corn liquor is reclaimed and settled back in her assets as she steps aside for the exiting Glasswalker kin. Strider kin maneuvering her way out of the kitchen with an eye to the floor, wary for any invisible shards lying in wait for small burnished feet. The kin moves to stand between Leon and Matt, dwarfed by a good foot or more by each. Curvy kin’s body language filling in the gaps where verbal communication was not allowed. She leans on Mirror’s whisper, floury skirt no doubt soiling his perfectly pressed suit. A painted toe prods Hostile Takeover’s knee, accompanied by a wry smile and a roll of eyes. Familiarity and Affection for both, mingled with no small exasperation at the proceedings. Her attention shifts to those speaking.*

[Honor’s Compass] [Kate has something to add! How do I — *hits the buzzer*]

[Danicka Musil] [Danicka yields to the ranked Garou present *gavel*]

[Wyrmbreaker] [dibs order is Kate, Danicka, then probably BWF.]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Sarita doesn’t fail to notice Gina’s brief interaction, such as it is, with Leon. Her eyes narrow a little bit, watching them, and anyone paying attention to her would notice a bit of bristling. She doesn’t speak out, merely watches for a long moment before looking back.

Yeah. She’ll be dealing with that later.

[Matthieu] Matthieu made certain to follow the kin across the floor. Whether Gina knew it or not those eyes followed her quietly. She drew closer and closer and even took the chance to squeeze herself between he and his beta. A slight smile grew and he peeked up at the woman with a hint of a smile. She had likely been drinking and was feeling pleasant. Which was surprisingly okay with the Garou who looked up at her with familiar eyes.

He didn’t speak however, simply welcomed her to join if she pleased.

[Leon Davenport] Finally something interesting happening to this meeting And no it’s not an angry kin storming out or incidents involving one with the Broho’splan or anything else. No, it’s the presence of a beautiful caramel skinned Strider kin, moving between him and his Alpha.

Shelean into Matt and that makes him smile, a genuine rare one from the Ahroun these days. Then she prds hm and the smile grew wider. He kept hi hands in his pants pockets, his smile turning into a grin. Then his piercing blue eyes were back on the meeting

There has been no GW kin here that he knew of. After all he knew Delilah only by her GWnet handle. He didn’t want any of his tribe’s kin getting into troubel tonight. He seem ot have had his wish granted.

[Kieran Mondblume] *His eyes, however, remain on Amy, and the Grand Elder. He looks, very briefly, worried, though it passes rather quickly. Nothing else in the meeting seems to catch his dark eyes.*

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget finally retakes her seat, glass in hand. Her brown eyes shift around the room as if for a second, she forgot where she was. The kinswoman shakes it off and sips the remaining whiskey, her eyes floating somewhere between Patrick and Kieran for whatever reason.

[Honor’s Compass] Honor’s Compass, who has, up until this moment been relatively silent, merely a formidable presence in so far as a regal Silver Fang of her ranking should be, standing to one side with her arms neatly folded over her chest; her coat open to reveal silk blouse beneath, the designer jeans and knee-high boots.

Immaculate as ever, she somehow managed to avoid it becoming ridiculous; her carefully arranged hair; her glossed lips. It was the animal grace in her that controlled it; the thrill of danger posed by those pale eyes of hers as they sweep the assembly, as manicured nails close over the eight ball.

Her eyes find Sarita’s sister.

“If I may, Rhya,” she says in her voice, rippling with its hint of french gentility, “I have some knowledge of these goings on. I was approached here at the Brotherhood by Adara, Song of Life, a Black Fury Galliard I believe my Alpha put in charge of the Brotherhood plans, along with Adamidas. She told me of the issues with the Kinswoman.”

A beat. “She asked my council, and two sides to this issue were brought before me, one from Garou and the other spoken on the behalf of the Kinfolk by one of Cockroaches Kin.” The Fang’s lip curves a little, inexplicably. “My sense was that they were working at cross-purposes, here. The Kinfolk, rightly enough, want their say in their own safety, but the Garou have their own notions on how Kinfolk need to be so protected.

My advice was to meet together, and discuss it. I believe this is the meeting Amunet is referring to.”

[Nash] With his left hand, Nash reaches up to scrub at his scruffy face when the tiny Indian woman moves across the room and proceeds to cause the blood pressure of at least four Trueborn to spike. He doesn’t sigh or stare, but when his hand comes away from his face and returns to his jacket pocket the kinsman glances over at Kora again.

That glance lasts only so long as the silence between active speakers; a few seconds after the regal blonde begins to speak, his eyes slowly drift away to acknowledge her.

[Rain McKellar] ((Rain will stay with the other Gaian kin until the meeting lets out, but her player must go to sleep soon. Thanks, all, for the scene.))

[Balance Without Fault] [night!]

[Danicka Musil] This time, the ball comes to Danicka more easily, since her mate has excused himself from the proceedings for the moment and it seems that Danicka doesn’t trust herself to catch the bizarre little toy if lobbed her way. She hears about the defense plan — something she’s only heard rumors of, not the story she just got. She looks at Amunet briefly when she takes the 8-ball, but in the end, doesn’t address the Strider kin as she did earlier.

“-Rhya,” she says, to Balance Without Fault, “the Kinfolk have tried before to establish leadership amongst themselves before, but in that case and in this one, there’s a serious problem with Garou being kept out of the loop.” She thinks a moment. “If the Kinfolk want to be heard by the Garou — to have a voice, for example, in deciding the defense plan for the Brotherhood of Thieves, to have at least some kind of vote in matters that affect them personally, then is there any reason why the Garou in charge of defense for this place should not have a Kinfolk — preferably a resident — whose counsel is sought in decisions about it?”

A beat. She blinks those round, green eyes of hers, turning to look at Amunet. “And maybe, if only to limit the amount of suspicion and paranoia and rumors of discontent, maybe an alliance of Kinfolk would have a better chance of success if there is a Garou involved in the proceedings and decisions being made — not to dictate, not to rule, but to communicate the needs the Garou have to the Kin, and vice versa?”

[Balance Without Fault] Balance listens to Katherine with clear attentiveness; then Danicka.

“It’s become increasingly clear to me tonight that some level of constant communication needs to be set up between the Garou of this Sept and the Kin. That’s part of what I wanted to discuss when we talk about the coalition a little more. I realize I’ve delayed the discussion of the coalition again and again, but I’m going to have to ask for your patience a little longer.”

He turns back to Amunet.

“There will always be some level of dictation, Amunet. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. The Nation is not a democracy. There is one Grand Elder. One Warder. One warleader. One Garou in charge of the defense of the Brotherhood, and one Garou assisting her.

“It’s not your place to rebel against that order. If you feel unheard, then speak. You may bring your suggestions up, just as anyone else can — and it seems that with Honor’s Compass’s counsel, you intend to do exactly that.

“You may not, however, display blatant insubordination to those who rank over you. And you must understand that the final say still belongs to those charged with the keeping of the Brotherhood. This isn’t a kin/Garou issue. It’s a simple issue of hierarchy. I would say the same to your sister Sarita, or even to the Philodox Elder.”

Balance turns the magic eightball over in his hands, then continues.

“The second point I wanted to address specifically is this. I’ve heard reports that you were seeking a Garou to … beat you? And that you would tape this as some sort of instructional video?

“What’s the story there, Amunet? I hardly know where to begin.”

[Amunet Knezevic] She looks very tired, very suddenly, tongue bitten to keep herself quiet as she waits her turn.

[Kieran Mondblume] *He flinches visibly.*

[August Grant] A brow rose.

That sounded like the single most stupid idea she’s heard in awhile.

Was that girl daft?

[Izzy Montoya] She’s wanting…. what?! Izzy’s head whips about so quickly her hair flies in a semi circle, smacking her in the face while she stares at Amunet with dropped jaw…. only to have it snap shut on the comment not quite bitten back..

“Motherfu…” snap.

She turns, and stalks to the kitchen. She needs a serious drink. Now.

[Quinn] Quinn actually does a double-take, and frowns at Amunet.Her thoughts are similar August’s. What would that even teach?

[Kieran Mondblume] *He raises one hand, however, before forgetting himself, and he holds his hand out for the ball.*

[Jackson Montgomery] He blinks as the idea for the original plan comes out in a horribly mangled, telephone version of what was actually discussed. He looks at Balances With Fault, then at Amunet and back, before he takes a [[DIBS]] after Amunet.

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget tenses in her little corner of the world, and the nearly empty glass falls into her lap before she catches it. A slight amount of whiskey and ice bleed into the fabric.

“Shit,” she says under her breath. Looking directly to BWF with an expression of apology, she zips it quickly, gathers her skirts, and moves towards the kitchen following Izzy.

[Kieran Mondblume] ((Though I am willing to wait for dibs till after Amy and Jackson have had their say))

[Leon Davenport] Leon blinked a few times, eyes on Amy. Ok…now that was..well..totally crazy even for her. He actually had to look at Sarita with a brow raised as if asking her..what the hell? But he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t smile or anything. He was mostly, perplexed by all of this.

He had an idea why she’d ask that, but to him it dodn’t seem like the right way to do things.

[Danicka Musil] Danicka, in the face of people restraining the urge to curse, of staring, of double-takes… blinks at Amunet. There’s no anger, no sudden omgwtfbbq. But surprise. And definite, strong interest in hearing something other than the rumor that Balance Without Fault wants to be explained and clarified.

[Gina McClaren] *Wait – woah.. What? Gina arcs her back away from Matt, squinting at the better bred strider kin across the room. Expression caugt between disgust and disbeleif. She looks up to Matt meaningfully, as if to say “Didn’t I tell you? Crazy. Every fucking one of them.” That flask gets retrieved and sampled from once more.*

[Amunet Knezevic] “Okay. So” She takes a deep breath. Remember what Stefan said, Ames…

“First of all, it was an idea that was being batted around. Just that. I’m unsure why everyone seems content to run around asking everyone else why I’m doing what I’m doing, but that seems to be the trend. It was considered, it was discussed, and nothing has been done. There’s no reason for anyone to assume that it’s moving forward.

As for being secretive and not wanting Garou involvement in the alliance, that is simply not true. The Shadow Lord Nathalie has offered her assistance, and I have taken her up on that. I’m not hiding anything. I’m not trying to exclude anyone that would benefit the alliance.”

She gestures toward the departing Bridget. “She wants to talk, but she wasn’t there for the conversation. She’s referring to Adara, the Fury. She asked to be included in the alliance, and when reminded it was a kinfolk alliance, she compared it to the KKK. Jackson was there for the conversation. I’m sure he can back me up. My issue with allowing her to be part of this isn’t that she’s Garou, it’s that she’s a shitty excuse for a Garou.”

[Quinn] [dibs!]

[Wyrmbreaker] [Dibs is Jackson, Kieran, Quinn right now — though BWF might cut in line at some point!]

[Quinn] [WHOOPS! That was supposed to be Joey!]

[Amunet Knezevic] [I’m assuming she’ll be asked to explain that….]

[Wyrmbreaker] [joey –> jackson –> kieran]

[Kieran Mondblume] ((And Ki gives up his dibs.)) *He lowers his hand again, and then he goes back to listening.*

[Honor’s Compass] [Damn it, now Kate has to speak up. SORRY.]

[Wyrmbreaker] [kate –> joey –> jackson –> kieran]

[Matthieu] His eyes meet Gina’s own and he looks back at the kin though he doesn’t nod. His eyes say enough and he reassures her with a slight pat to the small of her back. Though the Galliard doesn’t wish to appear as if he isn’t listening and taking in every word. Indeed he was listening to everything that was said. Formulating an opinion on each and every personality that shows itself here tonight.

[Izzy Montoya] She’s not long. Long enough to have a shot and pour a second that she brings with her, in time to hear that it was just an idea being bat around, without nay explanation whatsoever. Her jaw tenses, and she finds a space of wall to lean against, setting the glass on the table and lighting another cigarette.

[Jackson Montgomery] [[Officially voicing a request to try to keep a bit closer to the 10 minute posting limit that was established for Dibbers.]]

[Honor’s Compass] Katherine’s eyes cut toward Amy.

“That is the second occasion I have heard, and the first directly from your lips of insult to Song of Life, Amunet. I do not care who you believe you are, who your mate is or how valid your cause — you will pay the respect due to a Garou or you will be sending your mate to every door in the Sept to make amends for your mouth.

I said it before, I say it again.

Respectful disagreement.”

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget returns soon after, patting at her skirt with a towel. She passes Izzy and takes her seat again, then offers her hand up to speak for the second time.

[Bridget Geroux] [Dibs when it gets her direction]

[Kora] Kora does not glance at Amunet. Her dark eyes track Izzy, though, as she weaves through the room. Then, the creature glances back at Nash. Fine blond brows arch eloquently over her shadowed eyes. Restlessness runs patterned beneath her skin. Even standing still she looks ready to prowl.

[Wyrmbreaker] [joey –> jackson –> kieran –> bridget]

[August Grant] Even though she really, really wanted to be here for this lovely conversation – the pregnant girl’s bladder could only hold out so long. So, carefully enough, she made her way to the ladies room .. and then to the kitchen, where she’d find a snack and linger in the door for a moment eating before returning to her chair.

[Joey] The magic eight ball starts to head toward another kin, but the Fostern Rotagar indicates the need for an interception. It goes to Kate first, and when it gets to Joey, she palms it, and inclines her head toward Amy.

“Just t’clarify, this idea,” she reaches up her free hand to pantomime air quotes, “was brought to the elders ’cause you’d already gone at least to Burnout lookin’ for a volunteer. And when I talked to you about it, everything you said told me you were set on goin’ through with it, despite warnings and consequences.

“So you’re not bein’ called out on it just ’cause someone’s followin’ some sort’ve trend.”

The eight ball is passed on.

[Kieran Mondblume] ((Ki actually gave up his dibs.))

[Amunet Knezevic] [dibs after bridget, please]

[Wyrmbreaker] [jackson –> bridget –> amunet!]

[Jackson Montgomery] He takes the 8=Ball and steps forward. “Just to provide my own perspective on this idea. Which, at least when we discussed it, was just an idea. It was brainstorming possibilities, nothing more. Amunet asked me, since I was a film student, if there was a way for us to be able to film…not a Garou beating the tar out of a kinfolk, Amy or otherwise. But potential sparring sessions. The reason for this would be that, if we were in a situation where combat was inevitable, we’d be more capable. This wasn’t ‘Beat the shit out of me and film it and you’ll know what it’s like to be in a fight. Hell, a Garou could spar with someone in homid and we could film that. These specifics weren’t even gone over because it was one three minute portion of one much longer discussion.

“The key was, and what we were discussing, was that if it was done, it would have to be done securely. No internet access to the video. Not multiple copies floating around. Again, this was a big if, and I felt it was conceivably possible, if not a sure thing. No one was setting up sets or anything like that, I wasn’t figuring out lighting and camera angles or what lens to use. As near as I knew, Amunet was checking with Garou to see if there would even be volunteers, because if not the rest didn’t even matter.

He frowns. “If there was some kind of telephone situation where it wasn’t properly communicated, then there you have it. But the idea was far saner and far more brainstorming than that I just heard. Obviously the Veil was our first concern and what we were discussing before any considerations came into play.”

[Hunter] [hunter taking dibs after bridget, before amunet]

[Gina McClaren] *Gina’s taking a fourth shot. Amazing how much alcohol can disappear into the little Indian woman in so short a period of time. The flask’s cap clinks metallic and resolute as its popped on tightly. Flask itself handed to Leon, a flat palm held up, then making an abrupt cutting motion. The fuzziness in her stomach and the hazy tingle behind brown eyes told her anymore would loosen her tongue, and no one wanted that tonight. So the woman who was rapidly becoming a lush entrusts her fire water to the Glasswalker , before settling back against the Silverfang’s comforting hand. Her eyes slip firmly shut.*

[Balance Without Fault] [bridget –> hunter –> amunet]

[Bridget Geroux] “That reminds me when Carter took your injuries last time. We all asked you about the bruises and you wouldn’t answer. I let it go because you seemed uncomfortable, but if I thought for a second you might want someone to beat you up… What the hell, Amy? How do you expect to display leadership among us with… whatever is going on?”

She stops and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Amy. That got a bit too personal. But when I saw you talking to Song of Life, I just couldn’t hear it anymore. By the way, she has shown nothing but the utmost respect for my crazy ass ways and was one of the very few Garou who has encouraged me to keep doing my work rather than some Garou who have discouraged me from it. Maybe they’ve done it because they cared, but she is one of the few Garou I’d be more than willing to invite to my own house just to shoot the shit. I respect and admire the hell out of the Garou who treat kinfolk– even those not of their tribe– like the family we are. Family might be my whole grievance in the first place.”

“My other issue with the alliance is, like Danicka repeated earlier, that it is too jealously guarded, even from other kinfolk. My father, Meuric ‘Bear’ Geroux for those of you who care about the formality, used to tell me all the time how Septs grow weaker when not even the kinfolk can rely on one another as family.”

[Leon Davenport] He looked at Gina with a grin and took the flask out of her hand, making it disapear in his suit’s jacket. He nodded to her, letting her know it will be returned to her eventually. Not that it wasn’t a big deal if she had something of hers. She had something of him.

So it was with familiarity that he gently nudge her before looking back at those talking.

[Bridget Geroux] [First part got cut off:]
Bridget looks towards Amy with raised eyebrows as she takes the 8 ball, an expression of genuine concern.

[Balance Without Fault] [hunter’s up, then amunet, then BWF is taking the ball]

[Hunter] [oh shit browser didn’t refresh gimme a minute]

[Danicka Musil] At the bar, Danicka glances at the door, wondering about her mate, and frankly about Carter. She sips her water and returns her attention to the discussion. There’s no lightly thoughtful look on her face now. She’s quite serious. Bordering, in fact, on visibly tense.

[Hunter] The eight ball gets grasped in one meaty palm and he doesn’t stand to speak.

“Amy came to me first I believe, out of any Garou, sayin’ she wanted me to do it. I explained this to her at the time but I’ll repeat it because it seems ya’ don’t quite get it Jackson.”

A beat.

“For starters, Amy squarin’ off vs me in any form is just gonna be a beatin’ plain n’ simple. That’s just all there is to it. Secondly from what I was told the purposes for doin’ this was so that kinfolk could get some expertise on how to fight against a fuckin’ spiral — scuse ma language — n’that she’d want me to fight her not just in human form.

Now I don’t know what ya’ know bout’ spirals but fightin’ ya’ is about the last thing they’re gonna do. It won’t be in human form, so sparrin’ vs me in homid ain’t gonna teach ya’ shit. It won’t be to kill ya’ n’I don’t think I need to — nor should I try to, or am adequately able to — express just what they’d be tryin’ to do.

The flaws of this video been pointed out by my Beta quite clearly to Amy, but from where I stand there’s some seriously misguided ideas based on the fact that ya’ thought that me puttin’ a kin near death would actually help anyone learn anythin’ of value against that group’a devils.”

There’s a beat and then:

“The fact that ya’ thought me doin’ that could help is, quite frankly, god damn insultin’.”

[Kora] (going to bed folks. Kora’s still around looking restless and pregnant. Jamie has my permission to NPC her and directions for certain circumstances, cheers!)

[Balance Without Fault] [amunet–>BWF!]

[Amunet Knezevic] “I didn’t want to shame the Trueborn that gave me the bruises, Bridget. No one knew that he was going to heal them, and I certainly didn’t seek him out to do it.

And again, Bridget, you don’t know the whole story. Good for you that you get along with her. I don’t, and I have solid reasons why that is the case.

HOW am I being secretive? What kinfolk have I turned away? I don’t understand how not ramming an alliance down the kin’s throat turns into me being secretive. Explain.”

She flinches when Hunter speaks, eyes searching out anywhere to rest on but him. Her fingers run in her hair again, then move to scratch between her shoulder blades. “Fucking funny how you tell her fucking everything except the shit you’re ashamed of”

[Bridget Geroux] [Dibs if offered]

[Izzy Montoya] She felt Kora’s eyes on her, but she doesn’t meet her gaze. Not yet. Not right away. In fact, it’s not until Hunter’s clarifying that her gaze snaps up again, and there’s something.. something there. Something in dark eyes that’s clearly…

…well. Of all here, only Kora knows and only with passing details. Izzy tightens her hand around the drink, and pushes from the wall. She takes a step forward, and then shakes her head. Then, when she finally looks up and meets Kora’s gaze, her teeth audibly grind, and she turns, sets the drink down and heads to the door.

and if there’s a muttered curse or ten, well. No one who knows her is surprised.

[Balance Without Fault] [bwf is taking the ball!]

[Hunter] There’s a moment where Hunter simply stares at Amy with his jaw firmly set and then? He looks away, relaxes in his seat as much as the — sometimes high strung — Ahroun could ever relax under such conditions.

[Prayers to Broken Stone] Prayers to Broken Stone has been lounging against a wall in his hoodie; arms folded over his chest; sniffing every now and then as if he had a cold. There’s been a beer bottle in one of his hands fairly steadily and at some point; he’d excused himself to raid the kitchen; he returns now, to discussion of beatings and video tapes and something about Hunter being ashamed.

He bites a hunk out of his sandwich, and shuffle-excuses his way back to his little spot like that annoying late-comer at the movies who blocks out the screen as the heroine and her man get it on finally.

[Balance Without Fault] “Enough.” Balance takes the ball back. “I don’t want to dwell on this longer than we have to. This is not a public lynching. I’ll say this, and then we move on.

“Amunet, videotaping a Garou is a very bad idea. Videotaping a Garou in non-Homid form is a worse idea. Asking a non-homid Garou to attack you so you can videotape is insanity. I realize this was a brainstorm. But that sort of idea should never even come to your mind. Not simply because of the threat to the Veil, but because it tells me that you genuinely believe with enough training a kin would have options against a Dancer in warform beyond running.

“Izzy Montoya mentioned earlier that you were going to get people killed. I’m starting to see her point.

“Let me be very clear on this: you can train if you want to. You can learn first aid, you can learn self defense. If the Warleader judges you capable, we are even willing to entertain the idea of an elite kin squad assaulting light targets to support their Garou brethren. But you are not equipped to fight a Garou in warform. If you’re so unlucky as to be caught by one, you should run. And you should teach your friends to run — not lull them into some misguided idea that they might be able to fight and win.”

Balance’s fingers tap restlessly on the eightball for a moment. Then he goes on:

“I want to move on to discussion the coalition, its leadership, and the idea of establishing a Garou-kin liaison to maintain an open line of communication between the kin and Garou of this Sept. Before we get there, I just have two more questions:

“Bridget, you mentioned something about a Garou forbidding you from something you want to do. Be more specific. What do you speak of?

“And Amunet, you accuse Hunter of not speaking of something he’s ashamed of. What are you speaking of?”

[Bridget –> then Amunet, unless she rejects it!]

[Kieran Mondblume] *He looks back to Hunter at that, and he sighs deeply. Looking back to Amy. And then back to BWF. Again watching. He wants to speak, but the words are not coming easily, it seems, so he keeps his mouth shut.*

[Matthieu] Matthieu watches in preparation for Amunet’s response. The Galliard was standing ready and keeping his attention on every word that would come out of the Kin’s mouth.

[Gina McClaren] *Curiouser and Curiouser. Gina’s eyes slowly open, and her gaze rests on Hunter, expression inquiring, her head tilted to the side. Not unlike a german shepard trying to puzzle out an algebra equation.

That is to say – hopelessly lost.

She looks from Leon and Matt back to Hunter, as though she might figure out whats shaking through some sort of elaborate half drunk social triangulation.*

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] The Strider is watching with the most intense look of concentration anyone’s ever seen on her face. It is focused on her sister and the Grand Elder. It could be because she’s curious–tense?–to see what might be said, or it could be because she’s not wanting to look at certain individuals who might raise her ire. Her expression is pained. It’s clear to anyone who might look at her that although her protectorate obligations are over with, it certainly doesn’t mean that she doesn’t care. She knows how her sister must feel right now, what this is like for her, because she knows Amy so well.

She would rather it be her in that place instead of Amy, being questioned and having doubt heaped on by others.

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget fidgets with the ball when it comes her way, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Amy, if that got a bit too personal. Catch me later if you want.”

She continues quickly. “I have on a few occasions been told by several Garou. Forgive me, but one didn’t tell me his name. The other was Simon, who I think expressed concern over my well being. I should explain. The Sept I am from is in the Rockies, in the middle of nowhere. I’m not boasting, but I know I’m a skilled survivalist. It feels unnatural going for so long in the city without getting some fresh air. But on several occasions, without explanation, I’ve been discouraged from going outside of the city to… do my thing.”

The Fianna kin continues, “I don’t understand what the difference is if I’m alone in the city or in the woods. I can handle myself just fine out there, and I’ve gone out there on several occasions on my own before Simon and some others told me I shouldn’t.”

[Balance Without Fault] “And that’s all you’re doing? Just going into the woods to … hike?”

He tosses the ball back.

[Leon Davenport] His shift position slightly, watching Amunet, glancing at Sarita and then Hunter. What will Amy say? He hoped that Amy will decide not to tlk. For herself, for Hunter and maybe for him. He wasn’t sure what Amy meant, what Hunter did or didn’t do., but somethings were sad that didn’t make him entirely comfortable

Thongs has been dealt with and he had no intention to have them brought back to the forefront.

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget catches it, “No. I hunt. I check the trails, get familiar with the landscape. Sometimes, I stay out there for quite a while with little or no supplies. It’s… no different from what I did back home.”

[Derek Anderson] (*things has been dealt..)

[August Grant] {Alright, gotta get to bed – August will stay through the meeting with the other Coggies. Night all.)

[Danicka Musil] [Night! Thanks for playing!]

[Prayers to Broken Stone] [Patrick will take a break from eating to pipe in at some point RE: Bridget.]

[Bridget Geroux] [Add: check the landscape, figure out the flora and fauna.]

[Balance Without Fault] “I see no harm in that. Patrick, you represent the Fianna. What do you think?”

Lob.

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget seems quite pleased with BWF’s comment, but waits on Patrick’s response.

[Hunter] [if anyone wants a description post of hunter’s appearance etc right now let me know otherwise I’m just chillin’ LOL]

[Nash] [I don’t think I’ll survive without one.]

[Rosie] Rosalie has been very quiet. Nothing more than another small body among a wealth of very well bred kin and Garou. While the conversation continues between the primary parties, the kin slips her fingers inside the front pocket of her jeans and removes her cell phone. She is quiet and unobtrusive while her fingers move quickly over the Qwerty keyboard.

[Balance Without Fault] [angelina, since your post is pretty separate from this business with Bridget, you might wanna start pre-writing!]

[Hunter] [AHAHAHA, gina just got a trillion empathy suxx ;((( ]

[Prayers to Broken Stone] Prayers to Broken Stone sets his beer down and catches the eightball the way a baseball player might; both hands. He’s finishing chewing his sandwich as he goes and holds up a finger briefly to swallow, then thump himself over his chest to help work it down.

Brushing crumbs from his mouth, the intensely-blue eyed Galliard of Last Watch speaks simply, without intention for pretty wording.

“Thanks, man — Rhya, man. Uh, look I know Bridget fairly well. I think I can say with an attempt at authority she’s not insane, girl can hold her own when fist comes at face. I have no problem with her hiking in the woods. I think of some of the Kinfolk here, no respect really, but I think of them, she’d do pretty well.

So, yeah.”

He nods at the Fiann, and lobs off the eightball.

[Kieran Mondblume] ((And I am passing out. The coughing has not ceased, so whatever he might say in response I can wait on for now, I think.))

[Prayers to Broken Stone] [no.. DISrespect. Hooboy.]

[Jackson Montgomery] [[Jackson: *Pitches a fit and storms out weeping*]]

[Nash] When his phone buzzes in his pocket, he does not whip it out to see who it is while still in the midst of the meeting. He hears it, and quietly steps out from between Holden and Kora to find some sort of an exit. Being as he’s never been in here before, it takes a moment before he realizes the kitchen is through the swinging doors and manages to make it that way, moving at an unhurried pace, keeping his right arm held to his ribs.

Whatever he sees when he ends up in the kitchen makes him laugh, and then the door swings shut behind him.

[Amunet Knezevic] She catches the ball, eyes on BWF and nowhere else. “I understand that it’s a bad idea, Rhya. I put more stock into Laughs in the Face of Death Rhya’s words than was evident at the time. I assure you, the idea had been abandoned long before this meeting.”

Her teeth catch the corner of her bottom lip for a moment, before her head shakes. “I apologize for the comment. To both you and Burnout Rhya as well. It wasn’t about anything pertinent to the discussion or the Nation, just something that my brother and I should discuss at a later time”

[Rosie] Blue eyes sweep over Amunet’s face but what – if anything – she’s thinking at that moment are not completely obvious. Her fingers ghost over her phone before she slides it closed and stands from her chair where she’d been sitting. There’s a quiet apology given to those seated nearest her before she edges away and manoeuvres a path through the proper area and into the kitchen.

[Balance Without Fault] [crap — this goes in before Amunet — ]

“I’d add only two admonishments to that. First: I’d keep that sort of solitude to a minimum until the kinhunter business has passed. You’ll be easy pickings on your own, miles from anyone else. Second: I hope to Gaia you’re hunting rabbits and deer, not Wyrm creatures.”

[Amunet Knezevic] [*scootches back to make room*]

[Prayers to Broken Stone] Patrick watches as one by one, Kinfolk slip into the kitchen. He cranes his neck.

“What is there some secret door I don’t know of back there?” He calls at random, then grimaces in a ‘my bad’ way if looked at sharply for speaking out of turn. He does gesture at the kitchen to others though, in a what gives manner.

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget shakes her head at that. “Oh, god no. I’m not that much of a moonbrain.”

[Derek Anderson] He lean against the wall, listening, not talking. He has been one of the few Kin who didn’t speak up and was still there. And he wasn’t going to leave until the meeting was over. He was Silver Fang and he would do things properly. Beside, it was somewhat interesting. He learned a few things, watching everyone, listening.

He offered Rain and August a smile as both kin were obiosuly tired, August understandably so, being prengant and all. He will offer her andEla a ride home after the meeting and Rain too, unless she leaves with one of Kora’s people

[Gina McClaren] *Dark eyes slide from Hunter to his Fenrir Packmate. Flick to Gina’s kinfolk tribesmate. Tipsy kin contemplative as she rests against Mirror’s Whisper, considering the garou of Defiance a moment longer. Leon’s tenseness is sensed in a peripheral, instinctive manner, and dealt with just as naturally. Gina tugs his shirt-sleeve in a gesture of comradery, before settling back in to listen. She’d leave to go to “work” once the meeting was over.*

[ok! I have got to sleep or I’m just going to start typing “Ale-Alejandro Ale Alejandrooo” over and over again. Or something equally inane. Good Night folks! Have fun!]

[Joey] [Do I want to know what’s going on in the kitchen? curiositah!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Balance Without Fault] [night!]

[Joey] It’s the laughter that has Joey looking back toward the kitchen, as the Fenrir kinsman disappears behind the swinging door. And it’s Patrick calling attention to it that has her curiosity piqued.

But this meeting is srs bznz. Joey manages to contain that desire to know. At least for now.

[Balance Without Fault] [typing, folks! sorry it’s taking a while!]

[Balance Without Fault] Balance considers Amunet a moment, then nods. “Fair enough. Let’s move on.”

A moment’s pause, reflective. Then Balance takes another drink of water, sets the eightball down beside him, and speaks.

“I think we got somewhere tonight. I think we addressed a lot of concerns, some minor and some major, that needed to be talked about. That said, I think there’s still a lot up in the air, and it’s pretty evident that we need a more permanent mode of communication between the kin and the Garou of this Sept.

“I’m taking a page from my tribesmen in southern California. I’m hereby creating two new offices in this Sept: a Sept liaison amongst the kin, and a Kin liaison amongst the Garou. Their task is simple. They represent the kin and the Garou, respectively, and they interface with each other to make sure there’s an open line of communication at all times.

“If a kin has an issue that requires the attention of the Garou, bring it to the Sept Liaison. He or she is the voice of the kin in this Sept. Whatever the issue, the Sept Liaison is in charge of speaking to the appropriate Tribal Alpha to find a resolution, or — if it’s a matter that affects all the Garou — the Kin Liaison. The Sept Liaison is also tasked with passing critical information from the kin to the Garou. I will consider allowing the Sept Liaison to stand witness at the Crackings of the Bone, though I want to hear the Philodox Elder’s opinion on protocol and precedent first.

“In complement, the Kin Liaison will attend coalition meetings — primarily as a listener, but also as a voice for the Garou when necessary. The Kin Liaison will have a direct line to me and the other Sept and Tribal Elders as necessary. It’s also my hope that the Kin Liaison will have the basic leadership skills necessary to independently handle minor issues.

“Now, as to who will fulfill these roles — Mirror’s Whisper, you spoke earlier of your pack’s role. It seems to me that you’re ideally suited to our Kin Liaison. If you’re willing, the job is yours.”

[Wyrmbreaker] It’s in the middle of Balance’s speech that the door opens and Wyrmbreaker slips back in. He takes his seat by Danicka again. He looks a little worn out, but — rather glad, surprisingly.

There’s no blood on him anywhere. He takes his mate’s hand as he sits, squeezes it once, and then turns to pay attention to the Grand Elder.

[Amunet Knezevic] Her breath catches and holds. There is absolutely no doubt how much she desires to be named to the newly formed position.

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget pays a glance to Amy, her face grows concerned. Her eyes flick back to Balance Without Fault as she backs away towards the bar, making herself less obtrusive. Bridget won’t touch that with a ten foot pole unless someone beat her with it and tied it to her arms.

[Wyrmbreaker] [sorry to wreck your transcript, unbrokenites, but!

Lukas caught up to Carter outside and offered him the choice between getting exiled and going voluntarily into house arrest for a month. Carter agreed to house arrest, so he’ll be shacking up at the Loft. Sorry, Kate!

Lukas also stipulated that he’ll have a stormcrow following him around, and that he’s only allowed to be at the Loft and immediately surrounding areas or at work. If he wants a guest over, he has to get Kate’s permission.

Carter wanted to continue training kin, so Lukas said he’d ask Kate if it was okay for Carter to use the rumpus room. If not, Lukas will find him a dojo or something.

/end transmission!]
to┬áDanicka Musil, Honor’s Compass, Sarita Ecos de la Risa

[Honor’s Compass] [I’m typing!]

[Danicka Musil] [Sinclair sez: HAHAHA HOPE YOU GUYS ARE HAVING FUN OUT THERE WITH THE KINFOLK DRAMUHZ. I’M GOING TO TIJUANA TOMORROW TO GET FIREWORKS FOR MY BIRTHDAY. WERD.]
to┬áHonor’s Compass, Sarita Ecos de la Risa, Wyrmbreaker

[Matthieu] He nods his head back at Balance without Fault and his smile shows.”Thank you, I should like that my pack serve as a representative not only of the Garou but as a display of what the Garou and Kin can accomplish together. I would proudly accept the role as I would never wish our kin in this sept to go without a voice. They are the heart of our society and I should like that we can repair any rifts between us soon enough.”He smiles and looks to the other Kin present.

[Honor’s Compass] Honor’s Compass has been frowning in consideration for some time as discussion and debate wore on; when Balance Without Fault calls for her opinion on the matter of a Kinfolk standing in attendance at the Moots, she stirs and tosses a wave of silky gold hair over a shoulder; taking hold once more of the ball.

“I see no true issue with the appointed Kinfolk Liaison attending Moots within reason. I do not believe that unless they have matters to bring forward, they need be present and when they are, it would be my advice, Rhya, that they speak only when other matters have been addressed — unless there is reason why they should speak before the collected Garou.

I would further suggest that bearing in mind whoever gains this position, that their tribal Alpha be held responsible for their safety and conduct during appearances at our Moots.”

[Honor’s Compass] [Kate has no issue with the naughty Kinfolk being chained to her house. She has a free room available for him, chains optional.

She’ll provide him with a spare key and inform him he is welcome to make use of the rumpus space as long as he’s respectful to Kate’s other guests and knows if he steps out of line she’ll put him down.]
to Danicka Musil, Sarita Ecos de la Risa, Wyrmbreaker

[Balance Without Fault] [dibs list: kate –> BWF!]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [Sarita says: “Long as I don’t have to dodge gunfire for using all the hot water in the shower, sounds like a plan.” Though she’s super-distracted at the moment, too.]]
to┬áDanicka Musil, Honor’s Compass, Wyrmbreaker

[Danicka Musil] [Sinclair sez: WEEE-OOO. TEQUILAAA.]
to┬áHonor’s Compass, Sarita Ecos de la Risa, Wyrmbreaker

[Balance Without Fault] [i’m an idiot, it wasn’t refreshing.]

[Balance Without Fault] Balance Without Fault listens to Katherine; it’s readily apparent that her word is carefully attended to and weighed. Nodding, he takes the eightball back.

“Fair enough. The Sept Liaison may attend the Cracking of the Bone as a witness. He or she may speak if and only if they have a valid concern to bring forth on behalf of all the kin. The tribal Alpha of this kin is held responsible for the Sept Liaison’s safety and conduct.

“With that said, I’ll consider nominations for the Sept Liaison now.”

[Hunter] [dibs]

[Hunter] Hunter takes the eight ball for the second time tonight and by the way he keeps glancing over his shoulder at the kitchen it’s probably going to be the last time.

“Let me just say Amy’s eager if nuthin’ else. She wants to help n’despite all that’s been said tonight, I think her hearts in the right place which is more than can be said for some kinfolk.

In saying that, I spoke with Imogen Slaughter, she’s agreed to step in and help out the cause that Amy’s started n’I think we’d all be fools not to consider her for nomination. She couldn’t be here tonight cause she’s cleanin’ up the mess one’a our kind left behind, but I think she’d do this if it were offered to her.”

The way he looks at Amy is apologetic if anything, but having said his piece, he hands the eight ball on.

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget makes her way quietly over to Patrick, then leans over and whispers something quietly to her Tribal Elder. It is the briefest of moments before she touches his shoulder and retreats into the kitchen.

[Nash] [Oh shit I’m supposed to be proxying for Liz/Kora!

Yes. Dibbage –> seconding of Hunter’s nomination of Imogen for Kora.]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[DIBS]]

[Amunet Knezevic] Just remember, some people there will be skeptical. Some may even try to show that you is not ready by trying to entice your anger. Do not let them bait you.

She brushes her hair back, putting on her very best poker face. It got them out of San Antonio unscathed, it can sure as fuck get her out of this meeting with at least a shred of dignity.

[Balance Without Fault] [go ahead, sarita – jamie was just OOCing it!]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Sarita takes the 8-Ball. And believe it or not, she actually considers the thing for a moment before she speaks.

“I really like this idea of Kin and a Sept Liasons. It’s thinking outside the box, which is something our people don’t do often enough. And it’s my job…the job of all of my Auspice…to encourage thinking outside of the box, finding new ways to make the war work. This is exactly one of those things, so I’m a fan.”

“As to who…I’ve heard great things about Imogen. I have absolutely no doubt that they’re true. But I don’t know her. I’ve never met her, or seen her around the Brotherhood during my admittedly short time here. That’s not saying she’s negligent, and certainly I’m not here all the time. But we have a lot of kin that come in and out of here. Even the amount of time I’ve been here, I’ve seen a lot come and go. We need someone who’s regularly in contact with the kin and has their ear to the ground, and has ideas. Maybe not always the best of ideas, but that’s part of why they’ll be working with others, Garou AND Kin. Getting the right ideas pushed forward, and the well-meaning but not well thought-out ones squashed. Which, to be honest, seems to be what’s been happening.”

She twirls the magic 8-Ball like a basketball for a moment, staring at it, then looks up. “Amunet’s done the legwork. She’s got her ear to the ground, and she’s got the drive. She’s got the right ideas, even if some of the wrong are there too sometimes, and she’s willing to listen and hear other people’s opinions, take them into account, and learn from what hasn’t worked to make the right things work better. I think she’s the right person for the job.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[spins on her finger. Y’know, Harlem Globetrotter style. Since “twirls” don’t make no sense. :P]]

[Joey] [Dibs!]

[Danicka Musil] [Dibs, as well.]

[Balance Without Fault] [joey –> danicka]

[Joey] Joey holds out her hands for the magic eight ball, catches it easily if it gets tossed her way. Before she speaks, she grins at her auspicemate, would tip her hat if she were wearing one.

“My associate raises some good points. As for stickin’ around, Imogen’s a rock. She’s been here since long before I got here, an’ I’m pretty sure she’ll still be standing’ when the world’s finally fallin’ to pieces. That said,” she tosses the eight ball from one hand to the other, “Sarita’s right. She’d be a good candidate an’ all, but she’s not here. She’s out there, helpin’ clean up after our messes, but still.

“So how ’bout someone who is?” Holding the magic eight ball with one hand, once again she uses it to point, this time to the Shadow Lord kinswoman by Lukas’ side. “I suggest Danicka. She’s been around a long while, an’ though I don’t know ‘er much beyond her reputation, she’s always been nice an’ respectful.” When it seems the woman in question would like the ball next, Joey doesn’t toss it directly to her. Remembering the earlier incident, she instead lobs it underhand to Lukas.

[Joey] [oh god random apostrophe should make that “standin'” please don’t mistake her for Hunter!]

[Wyrmbreaker] Lukas catches the eightball and, since he has it anyway, speaks up.

“I second that,” he says, “and not because she’s my mate. Because she’s spoken sense every time she opened her mouth. Because she’s respected by the spirits, and pays them respects in return. And because a year ago she did the legwork and set up a coalition before handing it over to the leadership of another kin — who promptly disappeared.

“She’s proved herself. If she wants the job,” and he looks at Danicka for a moment here, considering, “I’d listen to her.”

He passes it over to her.

[Matthieu] [I need to AFK a little bit hopefully Matt isn’t needed for the next half hour!]

[Balance Without Fault] [see you in a bit dude!]

[Joey] [it’s so weird seeing “dude” next to BWF’s name]

[Jackson Montgomery] [[‘Homey’ would have been even better.]]

[Honor’s Compass] [CAN KATE SPEAK. …oops, capsrage.]

[Balance Without Fault] [danicka’s got it, unless kate wants to snatch it out of her hands!]

[Honor’s Compass] [*steeples fingers* …okay, not really. But Kate does want to add something.]

[Nash] [Rage, rage against the locking of the caps.]

[Balance Without Fault] [Fencing Fox just IMed me to check on the proceedings. She wants to say Daoi would have been present, but she has to go to work, and wanted to second either Imogen or Danicka. Also, she is vehemently against Amunet, Neda, Carter and Mickey. So. Consider her NPCed!]

[Joey] [Do not go gentle into that good caps?]

[Danicka Musil] When she initially held up her hand to signal that she’d like the 8-ball to be passed to her when it was her turn, Joey had not spoken yet. And Danicka had opinions on both Amunet and Imogen. The truth is, what she has to say about one was touched on — but not expounded on — by Hunter. What she had to say about Imogen has been said twice now.

And then Lukas joins in, because Joey the athlete decided not to hurl a hard plastic ball at Danicka’s head, and Danicka turns her head to look at the Ahroun Elder. Those who can see past the curtain of her hair over her cheek can see quite plainly that it is, in fact, a Look.

By the time the Magic 8-Ball that is representing the right to speak uninterrupted in this gathering comes into her hands, Danicka’s had to completely reform what she wants to say. Nice and respectful, the Rotagar calls her. The Rotagar who wasn’t here when she lied, smiling, to the face of the woman who is now the Philodox Elder and an Adren. The Rotagar wasn’t here when Danicka whipped around and reamed out a Modi in public

then promptly left town, lest he come after her. Eeek.

Danicka takes a breath. “I think Dr. Slaughter, if she’s willing to do a job she doesn’t yet know exists, would be a more than adequate choice. She’s abrasive at best, but she’s also proven herself more than any other Kin in the city. She would be capable, if not sentimental. One of the first times I met her, she turned and fired on Spirals so that the rest of us could run. As cold as she can be, it would be wrong to suggest that she hasn’t proven herself willing to fight and die for all of us. As dismissive as she can be, and absence tonight notwithstanding, she holds more respect in the eyes of Garou than anyone else.”

A pause. She does not address Amunet as a candidate — either what she wants to say has already been said, or does not need to be said. “As for my own nomination, I’m flattered.” A beat. She knew easily what she had to say about Imogen. It is not, however, easy for Danicka to talk about herself. Not with this many people, and so many of them Garou, listening. Not with her own reputation — and, frankly, Lukas’s — affected by what comes out of her mouth. She takes another deep breath. “I suppose I accept. I would be honored to do my best, if chosen.”

Chosen, she says. Not elected. Her eyes are on Balance Without Fault, but only meeting his for a moment before — ever so respectfully — dropping to his cheekbone instead. She offers the ball out to someone who can hand it to Katherine, who has lifted her hand. Danicka does not lob anything, thank you.

[Honor’s Compass] Perhaps in times gone past, Lukas might tense to see his pack-mate; her pale eyes firmly fixed on his mate request permission from the Grand Elder to address their peers and other Kinfolk alike. Perhaps he’d clench his teeth in desperate hopes she was not about to open her mouth and opine about — well, who ever knew — but while the Silver Fang Elder studies the Shadow Lord Kinfolk nominated alongside a Fianna Kinswoman absent tonight — she does not do so with apparent glorying malice.

Rather, there’s a certain amount of quiet reflection to be had, in all honesty.

“While I respect Doctor Slaughter’s capacities a great deal, I find that I do not believe, knowing her only, I admit, as passingly as I do, that she would willingly take up this position. Imogen Slaughter does not particularly revel in long periods of association around our kind.

My feeling is she endures such, as often as she may foster relationships with some.” Here Katherine’s eyes tick to Kora.

“So it would be my vote to elect Danicka Musil, and add that while she has suffered — setbacks, tonight — and needs to be more controlled in expressing her opinion, Amunet should not be ignored for this, either. She has put in considerable time and effort, and the last thing this Sept needs or wants are Kinfolk who, feeling excluded or resentful, get themselves into trouble.

Work together, please. I have seen too many Kinfolk of my tribe and without who wind up lost, gone or simply dead.

I do not wish to witness it again.”

[Balance Without Fault] [any more dibbers? i’m gonna start typing.]

[Balance Without Fault] The magic eightball makes it way around the room, sometimes passed, sometimes tossed. Eventually it comes back to Balance Without Fault, who catches it with a sort of ease that suggests once upon a time he might’ve played ball for his highschool.

Once he has it, he turns it over in his hands for a moment. Then he looks at the kin who have, by and large, stood so silent thus far.

“This is your representative I’m choosing. Any thoughts?”

[Balance Without Fault] [i’ma give people a couple min to call dibs, and then we’re rollin’ on.]

[Derek Anderson] Derek watched and listened, silent. He didn’t say anything or reacted to any of the nominated canditates. Whoever they chose was fine by him. After all, he doesn’t need much and if something come up, well he could always reach Katherine. He was sad for those whom the old ways weren’t working but it was for him.

So why change something that isn’t broken? No reason. He was just there as a witness, because all kin were asked to come. And he stayed in the main area for it was disrecpectful to go awya in the kitchen while business that touched everyone was discussed.

He hasn’said anything but he had been there and won’t be able to complain later if things turn out badly.

[Jackson Montgomery] Jackson looks up. “Since this is my chance to speak up…I would choose Amy. I only vaguely know Danicka, no offenser. I’ve been working with Amy, and so have others who weren’t able to make it here. And I believe that someone who is involved with the current make-up should be doing it.”

Not very wordy, but it gets his point across.

[Nash] [Thanks for the scene, all! I’m told I have to go partake in a threeway or something, idk.]

[Quinn] [I’m sorry, guys, I can’t stay up any longer, I have to be up for work in a ridiculously small amount of time. Both of my PCs would stick it out until the end, and then disappear into the night. Good night!]

[Balance Without Fault] Balance lets that silence hang, his eyes moving from kin to kin, all around the room. It stretches on. It gets a little uncomfortable. It gets a lot uncomfortable. Then the Grand Elder puts the eightball down on the arm of his chair again. Stands.

“I have,” he says, “the utmost respect for Imogen Slaughter. She very nearly has the renown of a Cliath Ahroun — and it’s no secret that the spirits do not pay attention to our kin as they do our Garou. To gather such a reputation under such odds is no small accomplishment, wolves and kin of the Maelstrom, and she is to be respected.

“However,” he turns directly to Hunter and Kora, “it must also be said that Dr. Imogen Slaughter, while faultlessly dedicated and loyal to our cause, has never been one to involve herself too deeply in the Sept’s politics. Or, as far as I could tell, one who wanted to do so. She’s not here tonight because she’s out there doing what she does best — working for the cause in her own way, on her own time, without our interference. And that’s fine. The work she does justifies that. Her renown stands alone.

“Bear in mind that I’m not dictating the leader of the coalition tonight. That’s up to the kin, and that’s yet to be decided. If you want my opinion, Imogen Slaughter would be a very fine choice. However, this role we discuss tonight, the role she’s been nominated for, is one of mediation, of elbow-rubbing, of talking, of listening, of liaising. And I agree with Sarita, and with the Philodox and Ragabash Elders. She may not be suited to this. She may not even want it. She’s not here to decide for herself, and I won’t pin this title on her in her absence.

“On the other hand, Danicka Musil’s name carries weight in this Sept. She is known for her wisdom, and for glory. She’s tried before to organize the kin, and she’s proven her ability tonight to speak calmly, and with sense, even in the face of controversy and dissent. I agree with the Auspice Elders who have spoken. She deserves this role, and I trust her with it.

“If you accept this duty, Danicka, it’s yours.”

A pause. Then he turns to the final contender.

“And that leaves Amunet Knezevic. Amunet, I agree with your sister, Sarita, and your friend, Jackson, when they say your heart is in the right place. You want this position, I can see it. You want to do well.

“I can’t ignore that you’ve caused no small amount of controversy tonight; that some of your ideas were flawed, and others were borderline insane. I can’t trust you to speak alone for the kin. Not when one kin has spoken vehemently against you; not when, at times tonight, you had trouble explaining your own actions. I’m sorry.

“But the Philodox Elder speaks with wisdom: we should reward those who try hardest. We are not,” a wry nod to the Shadow Lord contingent, “a Shadow Lord Sept, that counts everything by results alone. We do not disregard heartfelt attempts, no matter how futile. After all, it might be argued our entire war is one heroic, futile attempt.

“So here’s what I’ll do. While Danicka Musil is the Sept Liaison — if she’s willing, and if you’re willing — you may serve as her assistant. You may appear where she does, attend what meetings she attends. You can listen, and learn. In time, if your elders feel it appropriate, you may be given duties and responsibilities of your own interfacing between Garou and Kin.

“Will you accept this duty?”

[Amunet Knezevic] She waits. There isn’t anything to be said, after all, until Danicka has her say.

[Danicka Musil] A deep breath is taken before Danicka answers, and she is not surprised Amunet does not want to speak til she has. There’s no need to wait for the Magic 8-Ball this time; it’s done being passed around. She’s sitting up straight on the barstool she chose at the start of all this, and nods. “I would be honored,” she says, which is only what she said before. But this does confirm it: she’s willing.

“I would be glad to work with either Dr. Slaughter or Amunet, whoever leads the coalition Amunet’s reforming, as a colleague who will help me know what issues the Kinfolk need communicated to the Sept. I would also be more than happy to have Amunet as an… assistant, if she is amenable to it.” There’s a pause, and then she turns her head slightly, looking at Amunet. “But before you answer, I do want you to understand one thing very clearly. If you decided you wanted to assist me, I would need you to not only help me, but trust me.” A beat. She stops mincing words. “And frankly, obey me. Not as an automaton, not without a voice, not without respectful discussion, but ultimately, as a subordinate. If you don’t believe you are willing to place yourself in that position, then …be my colleague only as a member of, or leader of, the coalition.”

[Amunet Knezevic] He would be so disappointed in you right now…

She nods once then smiles, directing her reply to BWF and sounding a little too much like her Shadow Lord mate in her perfectly enunciated reply. “I will of course serve the Nation in any fashion that you see fit, Rhya. Thank you for the opportunity.”

[Starla] Starla’s still there…. despite someone going to bed, this is still happening. It ain’t a dream. She blinks, looks at the proceedings that have somehow woken her up in the chair and sits and stares at all of them. The corners of her mouth twisting and flattening suddenly.

[Balance Without Fault] Balance shakes his head quietly. “It’s not an order, Amunet. It’s a duty that you can take up or lay down as you wish. If you want it — if you can live with what Danicka just said, and with the boundaries I’ve delineated — then it’s yours.

“Otherwise, you may reject it without dishonor.”

[Amunet Knezevic] Her eyes flicker to Danicka, then back. “I feel as if I should at the very least make sure that Miss Musil is up to speed on what’s being worked currently. Perhaps we should revisit the question of my continuing role once the preliminary details have been addressed.”

[Danicka Musil] Her brows draw together, her forehead wrinkled in a vague look of confusion, but Danicka doesn’t interrupt.

[Balance Without Fault] “As you wish. If you want the role, let Danicka know. Otherwise, I hope you do continue the work you’ve begun — albeit in a more moderated manner.

“Now then. Let’s wrap up.

“Matthieu Mirror’s Whisper, you are our Kin Liaison. I suggest you make use of your Galliard talent to announce this far and wide. Danicka Musil, you are our Sept Liaison. I’d suggest getting in touch with your fellow kin to spread the word.

“Together, the two of you are responsible for maintaining an open line of communication between Garou and kin, for keeping one another up to speed on the developments on both sides, and for being the first point of mediation in conflicts between Garou and kin. You should interact with individual Tribal Alphas, with the Philodox Alpha, with individual kin, and with each other. In dire circumstances, you may come before me, but it’s my hope that you’ll be able to settle most issues independently, or with the assistance of your Septmates.

“Furthermore, Matthieu, you’re responsible for attending kin coalition meetings as a listener and as a voice for the Garou. Danicka, you will be present at the Cracking of the Bone as a witness and, if necessary, as a voice for the kin. Your mate will stake his honor on your conduct and safety.

“I suggest the two of you meet with each other soon after this meeting and better delineate your working relationship. Here’s hoping it’ll be a long one.”

Addressing the gathered, then:

“If there’s nothing else, wolves and kin of the Maelstrom, thank you for coming. I think we’ve taken significant steps forward tonight, and I’m looking forward to seeing how this kin coalition pans out. There’s still food in the kitchen, if you want to take some home — otherwise, I’ll bid you a good night.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Sarita stands and looks at the Galliard Elder. “Before you go, Matthieu…we need to talk.” The look she fixes on him is a direct one. It’s not angry, but there is something a bit…intense in it. “Just give me a moment.”

She makes her way over to Amy, reaching out to touch the other’s shoulder. “Hey…”

[Amunet Knezevic] “Hey” She smiles brightly, leaning to give Sarita a quick hug. “Thank you. That was very nice of you.”

[Balance Without Fault] [hey guys, i’m bowing BWF out. thanks to everyone who stayed for the whole, 9-hour shebang! @_@ that was a lot of fun and pretty intense at times, but overall reminded me why i don’t do the moots live *LOL*]

[Jackson Montgomery] Jackson waits until it looks like they’re getting ready to go, and he looks up. He nods to the Trueborn around and moves to head out with his fellow Gaian kin.

[[Thanks Damon!]]

[Kyle] He’s been quiet the entire time. Not that he’d have been heard clearly but he really didn’t have much to say. Casually he stands and while he walks stretches out a kink from his back. Stops near Amunet and gives that casual smile but the concern in his eyes is obvious.
“You doing ok?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Oh, shut the fuck up.” She grins a bit, leaning into the hug. “It wasn’t nice, it was the truth.” She leans in, murmuring in Spanish.

[Matthieu] Matthieu listens quietly and nods his head.”I should like to speak to both Danicka and Amunet as soon as that much can be arranged. I look forward to seeing the direction this will head.”

[Leon Davenport] Leon looked at Sarita when he spoke top his Alha and he grinned. He had a good idea what the Strider want to talk to him about. Well, he didn’t care. There was nothing there and if hse pressed the issue, he hope Matthieu would tell her to be reasonable.

He doubted she would. “Have a good night Matthieu” he say to the Galliard and start to move away, unless his Alpha wnat him around for his talk with the Strider

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] ~sp~ “You made me very proud tonight. Don’t you dare let yourself think anything differently. I love you.”
to Amunet Knezevic

[Hunter] [Hunter bailed for the kitchen awhile ago! I’m bailing now too, cya later all thanks for the scene.. or saga.. I don’t think scene does it justice.]

[Amunet Knezevic] “I’m fine, Kyle. Thank you. It’s good to see you again.” The smile doesn’t so much as flicker, turned from Kyle back to Sarita as she nods in response to whatever was said to her.

[Derek Anderson] The meeting was over, he needed to get home. He texted Kristen, asking her if she felt like joining him at his place. He bid farewell to Lukas and Katherine, as well as Danicka since she was beside the Shadow Lord Adren “Congatulation”he tell her

Sarita and Amy gets both a nod and he heads out

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She sighs a bit, looking concerned. She gives Amy a hug once more. “I need to talk to Matthieu. Let’s do something in the next day or two, okay?”

[Prayers to Broken Stone] [Thanks all! If nobody needs my PCs, I’ma say they both wander out. :)]

[Amunet Knezevic] “Of course. Come by the condo.” She hugs her sister, then lets her go and moves toward Stefan as he emerges from upstairs.

[Danicka Musil] Danicka nods, rather simply, to Balance Without Fault, a gesture of respect and perhaps gratitude, though not for the position so much as the trust it implies. When he closes the meeting, she slides off of her barstool and walks over to Matthieu before people can stir up and depart too quickly.

She takes a small pad of paper out of her bag and writes down her number, handing it over to him. “You can call me whenever you need to. Weekends and evenings are best, due to classes, but I’ll make myself available to your schedule.”

To Amunet, when she makes her way over there, she gives a small smile. “If you change your mind, let me know. But you have my contact information. It’s now literally my job to make sure you and the rest of the coalition are involved, informed, and heard. So don’t hesitate.”

Making sure the Tribal Alphas and other Kin know how to get in touch with her and even know who she is will wait another day, though, it seems. Danicka moves back towards Lukas and, catching Katherine’s eye briefly as she does so, gives the other woman a small smile, perhaps coming with a little more difficulty than the one she gave to Amunet. A small nod. The meaning there is even harder to read than the Look she gave Lukas earlier.

Katherine will understand, though. They haven’t always had the best and brightest relationship, these two.

She leans over to Lukas then and exhales as she gathers up her coat, saying something quietly to him.

[Matthieu] He stands slowly and nods his head back to Sarita. His attention on her before he looks to the others.”Let’s go speak away from prying ears then shall we?”He asks her as he begins to lead her in the direction of the Kitchen.

[Kyle] “You’re busy. I’ll catch you around the tracks I guess.”
Looks to both Sarita and Amunet as he casually makes his way for the kitchen to grab a snack and head up stairs.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She nods to Matthieu once Amy is gone, looking to him. “Sounds good.” He moves to follow along behind him.

[Matthieu] He walks with her into the other room and offers u a little smile.”What seems to be the problem here?”
to Sarita Ecos de la Risa

[Wyrmbreaker] The gathering is breaking up; Lukas catches Sarita’s eye as she moves off with Matthieu. The look is — complex. Some touch of compassion; some hint of apology; mostly, though, just a sort of recognition and acknowledgment. Of their relationships, perhaps. To each other. To their kin.

Then he’s turning, bending to hear what Danicka is saying while he reaches for his own coat.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “The problem is simple.” She’s angry now. She’s letting herself show it. Not raging…she does not not even have the capacity to frenzy, except in odd situations. Not even furious. But she’s angry. “Why is one of my tribe’s kin playing footsie with Leon’s knee?”
to Matthieu

[Wyrmbreaker] Whatever it is she says, Lukas laughs quietly; murmurs something back, then takes her coat from her and holds it while she slides into it.

Then he’s lifting his own, sliding it over his shoulders. The gathering has dissipated; he nods to the few that remain as he departs with his mate.

[Danicka Musil] [Thank you guys — those of you still in the room! For the RP. :] I honestly had a blast.]

[Matthieu] “Miss McCalister and I are old friends… She and I are close. I cannot say why she and Leon might have been playing footsies though I do know they have had a short dialogue once or twice. He confessed this to me himself… In fact he’s been quite responsible even going so far is to get my permission simply to associate with other kin.”He smiles a little.”I don’t see the harm, I would not let my beta harm a single hair on your Kin’s head. He’s been careful not to cross any distinct boundaries. She and Leon, as I understand, are little more than passing friends.”He looks up at her.”If anything I suspect it was me Gina was visiting Leon happening to be by my side was simply a matter of fate. He is my Beta, as a result I would not let him do anything to break our agreement.”He says back to her.

“However I understood that it was only your Sister whom Leon was allowed not contact at all and required to keep a distance from. Leon has been doing quite well to tell me who he has talked to and his reasons for doing so and I assure you he is not up to no good with your kin.”He says with a reassuring little smile.
to Sarita Ecos de la Risa

[Wyrmbreaker] [i’m out too! thanks again, folks! i had fun too :] ]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I know you’re close, Matthieu. Gina’s alluded to a Silver Fang who wanted to take her on as a mate. I can do the math, it’s either you, Kate or Ivan and she’s not Kate’s type. So I’m guessing I’m on the right side of the 50/50 odds here. And I don’t have a problem with that. Gina, Amy, Kyle…they can hang out with whoever they want, they can–and I’m not implying here–date and sleep with whoever they want. I’m okay with that. But sometimes, I have to step in. Because I wouldn’t be doing my job as tribal elder if not.”

She frowns. “I want to be clear here. I bet he’s doing a wonderful job of not assaulting kinfolk. Faboo. But until someone challenges me to claim her, she’s my responsibility, and let me be perfectly clear…she is not to be anywhere near Leon. Period point-blank. And if you won’t stop it, I will tell her so myself, which will force me to tell her why.”
to Matthieu

[Matthieu] He smiles just a Hint though he says nothing in regard to whether or not she might be correct in his guess.”Gina is my friend… We’ve been friends since before I met either of you, and I would imagine we always will. It seems like a near impossibility for me to keep Leon and Gina from, themselves, coming into contact. I can ask Leon to obey this but Gina is a social creature and likely to seek him out. It seems like I would be attempting to do the impossible here by only informing one side that the other is not allowed to see them. Still if you are going to be insistent on the matter I can attempt to speak to him and hopefully the matter can be resolved until such point as you change your mind.”He then continues.

“I should also mention a matter of some concern for me. It would appear that the Alpha of Defiance has caught wind of this little matter and he has set out upon a smear campaign against my Beta in relation to other kin.”He says before peeking up at her.”I would like that if this matter is to be buried it be buried… Having the Alphas of other packs walking around carrying judges does not put this matter behind us. It goes, both, against the spirit of our agreement and shows a lack of Honor on the part of another Garou. This matter ended with our arrangement and other Garou have no place involving themselves to any degree.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I agree with that. And I will try to talk to Hunter. As I told you in our initial talk, he knew before that point. I can’t make people un-know something. He hates Leon. Frankly, I kind of do, too, but not the point. I will talk to him and see what I can do. You talk to Leon and see what you can do. Hopefully we’ll both be successful.”

She frowns. “She doesn’t think so, but I like Gina. I care about her, and I worry about her. If she would let me in, she’d see that. But I get it. Just…” She shakes her head, frowning and looking away. “Take care of her, please. I know you will, but I have to say it.”

[Matthieu] “I am going to give you my honest opinion here and I know you are not going to like it but I must give it anyway. I feel that you are not willing to leave this matter behind… I hear in your voice a bitter deep seeded hatred for my pack mate for which you will never forgive him.”He shrugs his shoulders.

“I was not there to pass judgement on what he did to your sister but when we challenge or another suffers punishment in response to his or her crimes we leave the matter alone. When the challenge is settled the challengers leave the ring and their grudges behind them.”

“Neither you nor Burnout appears willing to do this. I have asked my Packmate on my honor to accept a deal which I felt was in the best interest of all involved. He has trusted me and done well to show by example that he is following through with his punishment. He is taking the high road and walking away with his punishment with his head held high. Where as you continue to brood and hold him in neglect for a matter which should no longer be a concern.”

He stops walking and turns to face her.”What you are doing here is not in Gina’s best interest. What you are doing here is attempting to use what power you have to hurt my Packmate to do just that. I do not like it, and I do not care for it one bit… But you are the eldest of your tribe and so long as you continue to be I will respect your wishes. This matter cannot be resolved until everyone involved lets go and stops holding a grudge. This is not honor it is vengeance and it’s only going to hurt everyone who is involved if it continues along this path.”

“If you want my advice, and you might not, what you need to do is let this matter go. This kind of thing happens in our society on a regular basis. Continuing to holda lapse in judgment against my Beta harms everyone it affects. It will breed his mistrust and dislike for you and it will continue to breed your own dislike and mistrust for him. In the meantime Gina is caught in the middle and Burnout simply has no place in the matter in the first place. Still it is not my place to decide. I will tell my Beta that he is to have no contact with Gina whatsoever and I will work to keep them from maintaining any degree of contact.”

“If that is all? I will be on my way.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “No, I’m not Matthieu. I’m doing it because even if you trust him, I don’t. Did you know that a kinfolk of his sat for like, two days before she got cleansed after being attacked by a Wyrm thing?”

She frowns and shakes her head. “Think I’m doing it for whatever reason you like. You can dislike me for it, Leon and Gina can hate me. It’s no skin off my fine ass. Leon made it clear that after our agreement? Yours and mine? His hatred of me was sealed in stone. He refuses to get over it. I don’t care about him as long as he’s not in direct danger of my kinfolk. If I wanted to harm him, I have ways, and you know I do.”

A pause. “Also, just to make sure…you said you would be asking Kate about giving him training under a Philodox. How’s that going?”

[Matthieu] “That is a failing of the society in which we live and not necessarily a matter that speaks ill of his character.”He then nodded his head.”My Beta feels betrayed… He feels the matter had been resolved and that it was not until much later that the matter was brought back up. Indeed if you and Leon had an arrangement, and I believe you might have, then it was a somewhat dishonorable manner to approach his Alpha later on in an attempt to see him punished again twice for the same crime. Now… he is being punished a third time by asking that he have no contact with a friend of his.”He says back to her.”That would make three times you have punished him for the same crime. I am not a Half Moon but I do not need to be a half moon to see the unbalance in this matter.”

“I belong to a house who has long prided itself on fairness and honor. I do not feel that my Beta is being given a fair shake in this matter. We are, however, and honorable pack and Leon will do as you command. You are Gina’s tribal elder and you have every right to ban them from contacting one another.”He then nods his head and smiles.”I will address that matter just as soon as I can catch her while she is free. In the meantime we are sizing up a few qualified candidates.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “We had no agreement. He threw two grand in my metaphorical face and said he’d leave her alone. I never told him we were all good after that. I’ll make that clear. And I don’t consider Gina being kept from him to be a punishment for him. I consider it looking out for my kinfolk’s welfare. When I’m satisfied that he’s been through his anger management training, then it’s all good. Until then, I’m sorry but I still don’t trust him because he hasn’t had the opportunity to improve himself.”

A little nod. “Let me know when you have. I’ll pass along the message that you’d like to talk to her if you like. I won’t say why; I’ll let you handle that. Other than that…yes, we’re done.”

[Matthieu] He nods his head.”Alright then if you could convey the message it would be helpful. She’s a very busy woman these days.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Will do. Have a good one, Matthieu.” A nod, and she makes her way out.

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Loft Party!

[Katherine Bellamonte] She had spent most of the previous night at the Caern, well into the morning hours.

The day rising with knowledge of Katherine Bellamonte’s new standing among her peers did it, for a large part of the day, without her. She slept, deeply, and only arose as dusk sank the day into brilliant reds and pinks across the horizon. Opening her closet, the Half Moon studied a collection of white, of black, of sparkling silver and a vast embassy of footwear.

She selected a pair of black kitten pumps, and came to a decision.

I am throwing a party, the declaration rang over the totemic link to her pack-mates. Tonight, at the Loft. Bring whoever you like, bring swimwear, bring wine and champagne. We’re going to celebrate.

The same general message is broadcast to her tribe-mates; to those she knows of, those she can reach. Word of mouth spreads, Honor’s Compass slips into a slinky silver cocktail dress, that sculpted itself to her frame and left very little to the imagination of any observing her. She pinned her fair hair from her neck, and left tendrils to frame an aristocratic chin, high cheekbones and a long, thin nose. Her mouth was painted bright, blinding red.

She was quite well pleased.

When the doors open for the guests, it is not simply Lucille who is there, but Asha’s former Herald, Thomas, also. Not in his usual role; the Kinsman looked pale, and aged by the death of his Mistress yet details not sorted, Katherine had, being the ever-diligent hostess and Alpha of his tribe, invited him to stay with her as long as was needed for him to decide what was next to occur.

For tonight, however, he is beside the elder Kinswoman to greet arrivals; and assist with coats. Honor’s Compass had not demanded his aid; but it was given without rancor. Perhaps being useful helped the Herald, and Katherine was not one to interfere in another method of grieving.

Still, they enter to the sound of quiet harmony; classical music pumping through speakers; discreetly planted around the Loft’s interior. The pool has been cleaned; and fresh towels lay upon deckchairs for daring visitors. There are trays of food, carried around by waiting staff; champagne chilling in a bucket of ice upon a stand. The black sofas pushed well out of the way so the floor was opened up; all white and minimalistic and utterly elegant.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Sarita’s been more or less staying regularly at the Loft since Amy left at the end of February. Even when he sister return, Sarita remained. Things were different between them, and even more so now. So for her, it’s not difficult to be ready. She just needs to come downstairs.

She isn’t dressed up at the moment. In fact, she isn’t dressed in any kind of regular attire…she’s gotten into her one-piece swimsuit early and is chilling in the pool. It is relaxing, being able to just float in the water or do laps. It allows her mind to stay in the moment and not drift. Drifting is bad…there’s a lot on her mind.

[Sinclair] Perhaps to some it might seem wrong, disrespectful to hold a celebration such as this so soon after Asha’s passing. Those some are not Garou, nor are they Unbroken. Savage, wild wolves lurking in such civilized skins, using money and the cut of a sweater and laughter and technology to smooth over the fact that not a single one of them is even close to mortal, even close to Normal.

Sinclair shows up (comes downstairs) in dark bootcut jeans and bare feet, her toenails painted metallic purple. She’s got a v-necked sweater on, form-fitting and pink. The piercing in her upper arm nudges against the fabric, the sleeves pushed up show the tattoos on her inner forearms, her hair being up in a messy bun — this passes for an updo, with Sinclair — reveals the mark of Earth on the back of her neck.

Passing a server she grabs a slice of cucumber with some mushed-up creamy liver substance artfully swirled onto it, and pops it in her mouth. Goes up to Katherine, glomps her arms around the newest sept Adren from behind, and chews as loudly as she can possibly manage right next to her ear.

[Derek Anderson] He enters the loft and present himself ot Thomas. He never had met Asha’s former herald and introdiced himself. He was allowed in. Tonight, the tall, musucula young man with blond hair was dressed in a dark suit, shoes, a blue shirt matching his eyes and tie. Over the suit was a long dark trench coat.

It was a night for celebration it seem, so he dressed the part. Still he had a bag in his right hand with his swimming trunks in. No wayt he wouldn’t come to the loft and not use the pool. He offered Katherine a warm smile when he saw her “Good evening Katherine. How have you been?” He say in his deep warm voice. “I might appear totally clueless if I ask it, but I will anyway. What’s the special occasion?”

He noticed Sarita in the pool and offer her a nod if she look his way, if not, no big deal. He offered a smile ot Sinclair when she came by Katherine “Hello SInclair, how are you?”He say, looking at her directly for once.

[Adamidas] If you are having a party, you have to expect gate crashers, you see. Because spirits are chatty, chatty things. Adam, however, is not a gate crasher. She’s actually fairly easy to get ahold of, and-

she found herself thinking of what it was that you bring to an Adren. You can’t bring Kate anything pretty of bauble-ie. She had all of that. She had prestige and a title and a nice house and things. She had a pack. She had a family. She had all sorts of things. We digress.

Adam shows up at the front door. Her hair is windblown, but it looks like she’d put some effort into doing it before she hit the road. She’s finally wearing that cocktail dress Harmony gave her… with the same boots she always wears because, let’s face it, she doesn’t own any other shoes aside from her platforms. She’s not sure what she’s going to do when she gets there, but she’s there.

With a messenger bag.

[Adamidas] (or bauble-ie, oi!)

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She does note Derek and gives him a little wave in the midst of a backstroke. The grin is faint, but there.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] A little over twelve hours ago, there was a impromptu mini-celebration in the Caern itself, moments after Kate passed her challenge. Since then Lukas has gone home, gone to bed, zonked all day, woken up only the message comes across the totemphone.

Kate passed her challenge, he told Danicka, buttoning his shirt as he ducks his head into her study where she was cramming for her continuous-time linear systems final. She’s having a hoedown. You’re invited, but do you want me to tell her you’re trying to unlock the mysteries of the universe?

And also:

Have you seen the bottle of Wyborowa my dad sent last month?

And not too long after that, he’s parking the Beemer and coming up the walk, giving the door a perfunctory knock before simply using his key. He’s wearing a black shirt, charcoal slacks. He’s also wearing swim trunks under his clothes. He’s carrying a bottle of fine Polish w├│dka, with which he bumps Adamidas’s back as he follows her in.

“Hey,” he says. “Nice dress. Almost didn’t recognize you.”

[Alejandro] Alejandro doesn’t have many fancy clothes. It’s not that he couldn’t have got them growing up, it’s just that looking good hasn’t been a focus of his. Ever the student; ever the Garou; ever the boy and never the man.

Which is at odds with how he is dressed because his suit just does not fit. It’s old, that could be gathered from the fact that it isn’t last seasons style or even the seasons before that. It isn’t so old that it’s back in fashion, but it isn’t so flamboyant that it could ever been completely out of fashion, either.

This suit is grey, not quite silver but not quite bland, either. There is a little matching waistcoat beneath the jacket and a black tie upon a white dress shirt. The problem is that the sleeves only reach halfway down his wrists. The garment bunches at his elbows, pulls at his shoulders, rides too high at his ankles and reveals thin black dress socks above worn — but clean — leather shoes.

Under one arm there is a cardboard cylinder, tucked up into his armpit and he shuffles towards the front door with steps that announce his pleasure to be here. The cylinder is large — even more so because of his diminutive figure — and when he reaches the front entrance he slips in beside Adam and Lukas.

A little spastic wave is given to both of them, a grin for Adam too. He falls in step beside them. “Hello!”

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [FINE, change it to:

Kate passed her challenge, he told Danicka, buttoning his shirt as he drops in on her watching The Fifth Element on BluRay. She’s having a hoedown. You’re invited, but do you want me to tell her you’re burnt out from unlocking the mysteries of continuous-time linear systems? ]

[Katherine Bellamonte] It is understandable that Derek might have received a formal invitation — not a demand, not these days — to join Kate at her home, but the circumstances may well baffle the young Detective. Katherine Bellamonte did not strike many as a woman of easy whim, not when it came to parties.

Sinclair throws her arms around Katherine, and chews noisily in her ear and her sister is bracing an arm over the other woman’s hand, chiding politely: “That is very expensive dip, Sinclair,” as if she expects this to make some sort of difference in the long run. “I am pleased you came, Derek. We are celebrating my achievement of new rank,” a moment, one can feel the gleam of pleasure in Katherine as she says, with quiet pride.

“I am now an Adren in the Nation’s eyes. Please, help yourself to food and drink.”

Thomas, straying from the door, nods to those who acknowledge him, and retreats to seat himself with a cup of tea, he will not drink, and there is a certain somberness surrounding the Herald’s black attire; though he had pleasure enough to greet the Silver Fang with when she first returned home, triumphant. Lucille, ever watchful, however, fusses with coat collars, and hangs each with care. She argues with the hired waiters, and demands they be more careful with the silver and crystal glass ware.

Still, with each newcomer; the sense of celebration grows.

There is something cathartic in it, for the wolves of Unbroken. They have lost someone; there must be balance to their grief.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Hey Kate. Hey, Kate. She’s been doing this every now and then throughout the day over the pack link. You’re an Aaaaaadreeeeeen…

It helps put the grin on her face, and there’s one on there now as she treads water, watching all the arrivals.

[Sinclair] “Everything you have is very expensive,” Sinclair counters, giving her a squeeze around the middle before letting her go. “Except for that bag of Sam’s Best brand Mini Peanut Butter Cups you keep in the freezer. Yeah. I found those,” she adds warningly, getting out of arm’s reach.

[Derek Anderson] He blinked at Kate’s words then strated to say something, couldn’t then smiled sheepishly. He felt very dense right now. That was something incredibly important and he had no clue about it. He took a few seconds to recover and smiled warmly “Congratulation Katherine.” Was all he saud and all he could say. He could tell her it’s amazing, but she knew that already. Beside what used she would have for praise coming from him? She had peers who understood better her pride and joy.

“Thank you for the invitation” He said “Enjoy your evening” Sinclair ignored him, no great surprise here. So he ignored her back and moved away to let Adamidas, Lukas and I guy he didn’t know meet with Katherine

“Good evening Adamidas” He say, remembering the young woman from a short encounter a while ago “Good evening Lukas” He say smiling to both and nodded to Alejandro “Good evening to you as well.” He drifted away for now. Moving toward the pool but not quite. He looked in Sarita’s direction ofr a few seconds as he took off his coat then kept his attention on the Garou surrounding Katherine.

[Adamidas] There’s vodka- w├│dka- poking her and she turns around. Finds herself looking at a very familiar chest. She grins.

“Harmony’s got awesome taste, he got it for me for Christmas,” of course, she missed Christmas, but that was beside the point. She is walking, and is fine to pass on until she notices Alejandro. The female perks up immediately- you’d think they were childhood friends the way she perks up.

“Hey!”

And Derek gets a wave, “hey Derek. Look at you cleaning up nice… I think this is a little classier party than I’m used to.”

[Amunet Knezevic] One should, in polite society, at least tell your sister in person before vacating town for any amount of time.

She failed to do this last time, which is what brings her to the loft tonight to seek her out

[Katherine Bellamonte] It’s such a strange thing, she has replied with, more than once to Sarita’s reminders, on the hour like clockwork; a quiet chiming of Adren, Adren, Adren. I do not feel any different, but the spirits must see the change, if nothing else.

When Lukas, Adamidas and Alejandro arrive almost sequentially behind each other; Katherine, a shimmering vision in silver and black heels moves forward to greet them, casting a decidedly pointed look over her shoulder at her sister as she reminds her she found the Silver Fang’s top secret, low budget snack storage area. “Those are for guests,” she protests lightly, with entirely too much defensiveness creeping through her voice.

“Not me.”

Then, champagne flute in one hand; she moves forward. “Adamidas, I am so pleased you are here!” A press of red lips to the air beside a cheek, Lukas gets a radiant smile, a brush of a hand to his sleeve and Alejandro a neat little dip of her head to one side.

“Welcome, Seeks the Horizon. Is your brother with you, tonight? I fear he is building mystique in avoiding our meeting.” Her lips quirk. Then: Amunet appears; moving toward the door to the brightly lit complex and Katherine’s fair brows rise in clear surprise.

Sarita, your sister is here.

[Amunet Knezevic] She is dressed for a red eye flight to Sin City, which means she is NOT dressed for this type of party. Looking horribly uncomfortable, she makes her way into the loft and tries to stay out of the way as she sends a text.

Where ARE you? I’m downstairs.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She frowns when she hears that. Yes, when Amy comes around, Sarita tends to think something’s wrong. Do you blame her? No, something usually IS wrong. FInally, you’re on my side. Yep.

Oh wow, the Strider sends through the link, getting out of the pool. Thanks.

She climbs out of the pool, grabbing a towel and drying off quickly as she comes out to the main area, looking for her.

[Amunet Knezevic] She would be the one off to the side, looking uncomfortable and entirely out of place…

[Sinclair] There’s laughter in the room that only Katherine and Lukas and Sarita can hear, because outwardly, Sinclair doesn’t let it loose. It’s in response to some mention over their link, something Katherine said that made her… well. Happy. She wanders around mostly, bumping purposefully into Lukas as though they’re in lupus before she continues on, giving an upward nod to Adamidas and a curious glance at this new kid that stinks of Fang just as much as the rest of the Loft does. She does happen to ignore the kinsman. She doesn’t even give him the little wave of hello that Sarita offers. And it might be that she hates him, for reasons he can’t fathom.

That is something he is free to believe if it accords with his nature. Sinclair, ignoring him, can’t help him interpret her behavior. She glances over at Amunet, tipping her head to the side. So that’s Sarita’s sister.

[Alejandro] Derek gets a cheery smile from the Theurge and a greeting in passing that goes something like: Hi! I’m Alejandro! But then it’s on to meet Kate and the look on his face is nothing if not ecstatic. He seems proud of her, happy for her, pleased to hear of her success.

“Honor’s Compass Rhya! My brother should be arriving, he is not so mysterious as he seems. I once had to wait seven hours for him to cross to the other side once. But he’ll be here!” He beams, using her Fostern name because the spirits know not of any other. “I know that you said you didn’t require any gifts, so please don’t feel I have ignored your wishes but..”

He looks positively giddy.

“I made this!” And he holds out the cylindrical device to her. “It’s that picture — map — of the Umbra! It has all that which is there and not there and sort of almost there marked in different colours because I find it so much easier to read maps when there are colours. Don’t you?”

[Derek Anderson] He smiled back at Adamidas “Thank you. And you look lovely tonight” He reply to her “And don’t worry about it. Later everyone will be in swimsuits probably and make it a lot less classy or formal”

He move slightly away from the young Fury to let her speak with whoever she desire. He noticed Amy, recognizing her from the only encounter and nodded to her. Well at least he wouldn’t be the only kin in a Garou party. Not that he was uncomfortable being the only one surrounded by true borns, especially the Unbroken. For some reason it seem to happen that way.

He folded his trench coat over his arm and then Thomas appeared to help him with it. Once his fellow kinsman was away, he took a champagne glass from one of the waiters.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] “Because obviously,” Lukas says drily, “you’d serve economy peanut butter cups to your guests.”

Then he breaks into a grin, side-hugging Kate briefly before pressing the Wyborowa into her hands. “Congrats, Kate. This is my last bottle until I nag my dad into sending more, so make the most of it and get smashed.”

[Adamidas] She’s seen this in movies. She knows, in theory, how this air kiss thing works. She doesn’t necessarily understand the entirety of it, but in her mind she chalks it up to Katherine being classy and somewhat French. Sinclair gets another nod in return which, while somewhat urban in its nature,doesn’t look quite as cool when she does it.

“I haven’t seen the place on this side of the umbra, it’s… huge, and you have a pool,” given her inflection it’s quite clear that the Fostern approves.

[Sinclair] “We have a big pool,” Sinclair says, though Adam is really talking to Katherine. She says ‘we’. This is, in a way, pack territory after it is Katherine’s. “It used to be smaller. We begged her and made puppy eyes til she had it expanded. That pool is a triumph of teamwork.”

[Gabriel Ferreira] He doesn’t look nearly as uncomfortable or out of his element as his brother does. When the Cliath of Honor’s Compass’s auspice arrives, it’s with some sort of gift for Lucille that the lower-class writer of this post can’t be fucked Googling but it’s expensive and classy; the grieving herald is given condolences, and once he actually makes his way into the domicile, far more expansive and luxurious than it appears on the outside, he makes a quick sweep of the room to map everyone out.

Once he’s located his brother and found that nothing has been set on fire, his shoulders relax.

The first person he approaches isn’t the triumphant hostess, or his perpetually cheerful brother, but the kinswoman standing off to the side, isolated and irritable. Without any in hand, no champagne glass or hors d’oeuvres, without having met before, the immediate question that comes to mind as he walks up to Amy is What does he want?

His hands are in the pockets of his dress pants as he casually comes to stand by the wall beyond arm’s length from Amy.

“It’s a party,” he says, lightly, in a voice that lacks an accent, “not a tribunal.” A beat. “Unless I read the invitation wrong. That would be embarrassing.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She smiles a little and makes her way to her sister, coming up next to her. “Hey you.” She smiles to her, and then looks to Gabriel to give him a nod. “Hola.”

[Adamidas] She looks at Sinclair, and her eyes widened. The Glass Walker might as well have said Katherine got the pack their own individual ponies. It’s sheer amazement, “those had to be some pretty intense puppy eyes. I tried to convince Alec once that we needed a pool, and it didn’t happen. I can’t really talk the Coltranes into getting a pool, because it wouldn’t really be practical.”

And the lake is right there. But a lake isn’t a pool, you see.

[Amunet Knezevic] She laughs in spite of her complete unease, fingers running in her hair. “Well. You got an invitation, which puts you a rung above me here.

Oh hey. There’s Sarita. Fresh out of the pool. This is handy, should anyone need the super secret access point to fucking Bizarro land, she’ll just direct them to the loft.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Gabriel hands her a map of the Umbra, and Katherine seems genuinely fascinated as he points things out on it. “Look, Lukas, Adam, Gabriel has drawn an Umbral map for me.” As if he were her toddler, presenting his first finger painting to his mother, her beaming and proud.

The Cliath Fang’s brother makes an appearance, then, and Katherine, carefully passing off Lukas’ gift to Lucille to tend after, finds his figure with her pale eyes and watches him, intently. She glances side long at Alejandro and her eyes ask the question without ever parting her lips to speak it.

Waiters bring around fresh offerings in the shape of colorful seafood snacks; trout and salmon with caviar, more of the same cucumber and avocado relish Sinclair had plucked from a tray earlier; other fanciful combination with names that involved things such as a side of or a sprig of to complete them.

Despite the press of combined Rage in the air around them; the atmosphere of the Loft is airy; pleasant. There is no demands being placed on either of the Kinfolk there; Amy is offered a flute of champagne by a waitress dressed in black slacks and a white collared shirt. There is also sparkling cider and wine on tap.

The Theurge Elder is impressed by the sheer mass of the pool; Honor’s Compass smiles. “I am quite convinced I have the happiest water spirits in it second perhaps only to the lake itself.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “You’re here. That’s awesome.” She looks from Gabriel to Amy. “Um…Alejandro’s brother, this is my sister Amy. Amy, this is…Alejandro’s brother.”

Isn’t she good at introductions? “Kate made Adren,” she explains to Amy. “Thus, the party.”

[Katherine Bellamonte] [oops, I meant Alejandro. Shut up, there’s a lot of you.]

[Derek Anderson] He walked around, watching everyone but no one in particular. He knew everyone except two right now. At least by sight. He drinks from his champagne glass, not mingling right now. Everyone was congratulating Kate as they should, people were getting acquinted with others.

He put his bag on one of the benches, for later, when it’ll be time for swimming. Right now, Sarita was the only one dressed ofr swimming and after their last discussion, he won’t go in the pool alone with her if she gets back to it. She mgiht get the impression that he didn’t understood what she said that night. And he did and respected it.

So for now, leaving them alone was ok with him.

[Gabriel Ferreira] “Look on the bright side–”

Whatever that bright side is, he isn’t afforded the opportunity to impart it to his unwilling audience.

Hola, Sarita says, and he leans slightly past the kinswoman to regard the Ragabash. Given his height compared to hers, he could have looked clear over the shorter woman’s head to address her–guardian, sister, cousin, he can’t tell–tribeswoman. As he’s glancing over, that universal sense of being watched creeps up his spine, and his eyes wander across the room to find the source of it.

Spotted!

Ol├í,” he replies, the accentuation different, the accent on a different syllable. That said, he steps away from the wall to form a lopsided sort of triangle between himself and the two females, extending his hand to shake should either of them feel inclined to do so. “Nice to meet you. My name’s ‘Gabriel’ but I’ll answer to ‘Alejandro’s brother,’ too.”

He steps back.

“If you’ll excuse me.”

[Amunet Knezevic] “Amunet. It’s nice to meet you, Alejandro’s brother.” Not that she has the slightest idea who Alejandro is, but….

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “New Fangs,” she says as Gabriel walks off, and she takes a lean next to Amy. She’s content to be at the side of the party with her sister, though she’s keeping her packmates in view.

“I’m glad to see you here. How’d that meeting go?”

[Amunet Knezevic] “Good. Really good.”

She has the same irrational panicked thought now that she did after she lost her virginity to Ox. Can they tell? Does something seem somehow different? Is she marked in some invisible way? Nobody seemed to be paying any attention to her, which she took as a good sign.

[Alejandro] There are things to point out on the map, things that Alejandro make sure they see because they’re fascinating. His index finger darts across the surface of it once it is unfurled and they read labels that are formal and artsy like: Where Water Spirits Whisper, The Windy Peak. There are other labels though, less formal and more personal – notes and edits too.

Fun times with Fire spirits! Caution: Take sunscreen!

Warning: Hole in the basement, unsure where it leads. I totally understand how Locke felt though! I want to open the hatch!

Once he has taken up enough — too much — of her time, he wanders off. It’s in Sinclair’s direction that he seems to meander, a thin youth with a too small suit. He doesn’t say anything yet, though he’ll flash her a sheepish smile if she looks at him. He just sort of.. loiters.

[Adamidas] She peeks along with, but there’s quiet recognition and genuine pleasure on her features.

“Oh wow,” she looks from the map to Alejandro, “how far down does it go? That’s seriously handy.”

She then addreses the rest of the Unbroken, or whoever else could muse about the pool. She grins, “more than likely? It’s a well loved, well-tended place. And nothing is going to mess with them in here. It’s a good, safe place to be. ”

[Sinclair] Sinclair is by the food. She’s not as face-stuffing as a Bone Gnawer’s best stereotype, but she’s making pretty good progress on some finger foods with more of that avocado stuff on them and looks to be considering bringing in a bag of tortilla chips and some bean dip to round out Katherine’s impromptu spread, which would take most people two weeks to set up.

Alejandro wanders over. She’s chewing, and slows down a bit as he loiters. Stares at him. “What?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She gives Amy a weird look. “Well, awesome.” It’s said in the teasing tone that they used to use with each other. Amy and Sarita can bicker and snipe at each other like there’s no tomorrow, and they can have some of the biggest knock-down, drag-out sister fights this side of a Cops episode. But there hasn’t been much of that lately. Just quiet words, no less frustrated, and hugs and the occasional tear.

“Y’okay? You seem a bit…off.”

[Adamidas] “Oh! Kate! When you have time!” she half lifts up her bag, “I have stuff for you. But I didn’t wrap it.”
And, apparently, it’s personal enough that she doesn’t want to take it out yet.

[Amunet Knezevic] “Um. I wanted to let you know I was taking off for the weekend. You know. Not by text this time.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Oh.” She nods a little bit, reaching up to brush her hand over Amy’s hair. “Well, that’s cool. Just the weekend?”

[Katherine Bellamonte] Honor’s Compass does seem very pleased with her gift, she holds it carefully against her side; one arm folded over her middle, the other holding a flute of no doubt very expensive champagne. She’s sipping from it idly, every few moments and smiling around at her gathering of guests.

She has to stand, one should note, rather carefully in her gown; while lovely and light-catching; it was rather on the short side, and dipped into a daring V that bared a great deal of flesh without becoming cheap about it. Still; Katherine wore it elegantly, as was to be expected of her and as Alejandro’s brother crosses toward her she quiets, and sips from her flute, watching him through pale eyes; her lids painted a smokey gray.

“You must be Gabriel,” she greets him, voice quite amicable. “I wondered when you would surface into the light.”

Adamidas has things — but she didn’t wrap them. Katherine’s eyebrows rise. “What have you brought me, Adamidas.” There’s a lightness to that, she’s teasing.

[Amunet Knezevic] “Yeah.”

Wow, this is uncomfortable.

“We’re going to Vegas for a couple days”

[Alejandro] She stares at him and he stares back. The question has his smile shift from sheepish to comfortably cheery. “I’m Alejandro. Do you live here?”

A small hand reaches out and takes up a carrot stick or celery stick if they are on offer, stabbing it into some nearby dip before he chomps on the end of it.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Good.” She smiles and nods. She is picking up on Amy’s discomfort, and that is affecting her, but mostly because she doesn’t see why it’s so weird, and she’s concerned. That worry for her sister will always be there, whether she has a mate or not. And in addition, there is joy for her sister. She may not be convinced this is her best course of action, but she’s keeping it down.

“That’ll be awesome. You guys can have a blast, get away from all this. It’ll be good for you. I’m happy.”

[Derek Anderson] He stop somewehre between the pool and the lobby. His kind bluee eyes moved from Garou to Garou, his glass f champagne almost empty. He’s not mingling right now. If it was only the Unbroken, it would be easier, but right now, he kept his distance.

He would probably stay there only for some time nd leave finally. Politly representing the Fang Kins and then let the Garou to their celebration. He move to the food, grab a snadwich and move away again.

[Gabriel Ferreira] Alejandro’s brother isn’t wearing anything quite as eye-catching as Miss Bellamonte, which both ought to go without saying and fill everyone in the room with gratitude. Considering that this isn’t exactly a formal tribal affair, he is not wearing a tuxedo. He wears a three-piece suit, because it’s cold as the devil outside, but it fits better than whatever it is that Alejandro is wearing, and he doesn’t look as though he’d rather be outside rolling around in a mud heap.

There is quite a bit to look at, but she’s his elder, and his eyes behave themselves.

She wondered when he would surface.

“Wonder no more, -rhya,” he says, taking his hands out of his pockets for etiquette’s sake.

Then the Adren is addressing the Fostern, so he waits his turn.

[Amunet Knezevic] The pod people were here. Awesome. Her eyes flicker around the room quickly as if expecting an uncomfortable surprise.

“So…. I guess I should say congratulations and get out of here, hey?”

[Sinclair] What makes Sinclair intimidating — and she is, in fact, very intimidating — is not her rage. That’s eclipsed quite neatly by other Garou in the room. Gabriel and Katherine and Lukas all have more of that internal fire to draw on, to carry with them, to endure. With Sinclair, it’s something else entirely. She looks at Alejandro, another wolf, as though she is gauging whether he is higher or lower on the food chain — literally — than she is. The fact that it takes her little more than a moment to determine just how far below her he is, how quickly she could eat him, how many bites it would take,

unnerves every mortal she meets. Makes Kinfolk uncomfortable. Makes her a little less than popular even among other wolves. She’s not a woman, purple toenails and piercings and human trappings notwithstanding. She’s savage thing made only more dangerous, not more civil, by opposable thumbs and technological intelligence.

She blinks at him, slow and lazy, once. “I’m Sinclair. And yes.”

Over there, people are giving Kate presents, like it’s her birthday or something. Somehow, something completely bizarre seems utterly natural just because it’s Kate. “I’m Kate’s packmate,” she adds.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Soon after showing up, Lukas disappeared into the kitchen to…

…mix drinks, as it turns out. While Katherine sips on champagne, Lukas reemerges with some eight or ten collins glasses of distinctively blue liquor. It’s not often that he plays chef or bartender, but one supposes tonight’s ample justification for an exception.

So he passes that tray around – to Kate, to his packmates, to the guests. When everyone who wants a shot has one, Lukas raises his voice enough to cut momentarily through the conversation.

“I’d like to make a toast,” he says. “Here’s to Katherine, who proved today what everyone already knew: that she’s a badass Adren Philodox. Here’s to my pack, my brothers and sisters past and present and future.

“Here’s to booze and pool parties. Here’s to friends. Here’s to celebrating us, and the savage joy of our lives.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Well, you can hang out if you want. It might be fun.”

She gives a little shrug. She wants Amy to be comfortable, but there are a lot of people here she doesn’t know. And it’s not exactly the best time for introductions.

Lukas comes out, and he has shots. Sarita takes one and gives one to Amy.

[Amunet Knezevic] Ohthankholygod alcohol. She gratefully takes the shot, eyeing Lukas and trying to stay invisible.

[Sinclair] Sinclair takes two shots. When the toast is given, she clinks them together. “Hear, hear!”

First goes the left, then goes the right.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine doesn’t offer her hand to Gabriel, or do much of anything but look at him for a good few moments. It’s not challenging, per say, that stare, but rather more curious; considering. She does add, after a long pause of silence, broken by the soft classical music, tinkering from the background. The lapping of water in the pool, as the cleaner is activated and hums along the bottom; greedily eating anything daring to pollute it.

Were Sinclair’s spirit with her; he’d no doubt be EEEing over the machinery.

“It’s nice to put a face to the name, Resurrection. I am obviously Katherine, Honor’s Compass. I am your tribal Alpha, and your auspice Elder in the city. I look forward to seeing you show yourself to be a worthwhile addition here, along with your brother.” A beat, Lukas brings out that dreaded blue mixture of his; Katherine clings to her champagne.

A corner of her mouth flicking with the toast, she raises her glass, eyes gleaming.

In the corner; Thomas and Lucille, sharing conversation among themselves, also toast.

[Alejandro] The only response to Sinclair’s undeniable predatory nature is the fact that Alejandro waited for her to initiate conversation before speaking. After that he is smiles, he seems comfortable. It might be ignorance or innocence or the fact that his spirit soars so high compared to his human nature, but he doesn’t shy away from her despite the fact that yes: She could eat him all up, one bite perhaps two if he were lucky.

Just like her intimidating otherness, there is something strange about the boy – and he is most definitely a boy, not a man. It isn’t strong enough to pin-point, but it isn’t weak enough to be only revealed in the Umbra either. She might get a sense of the elements, perhaps a familiar one because it strikes each individual differently. It’s masked beneath his breeding, but it’s still there.

Her name is Sinclair, she lives here and his smile broadens. Before he can respond, however, there is a toast. He has no drink, no glass, so he takes one of the shots. He’s not entirely sure that he should be allowed to have one but he raises it anyway along with what’s left of his celery stick and joins in the cheer with everybody else.

Once it’s all over and the cheering has subsided along with the speeches he looks again at Sinclair. “I’m going to be living her too,” he says, like that is wonderful news. “I heard you have a friend,” his tone has shifted, something more secretive, something that excites. “I would love to meet him.”

EEEing indeed!

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] “Okay,” Lukas explains the rules with great patience, “you can’t get Sinclair to take your shot by proxy, Kate.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She smiles and raises her glass. In another time, another day, she would have given some kind of ululation, an over-the-top cheer or the like. She’s certainly that pleased for her packmate, and the warmth shows in her expression. The response however is more restrained. She just raises her glass and winks at Kate, giving her a nod that is both congratulatory and grateful.

And then the shot is knocked back.

[Derek Anderson] He took the shot from Lukas “Thank” He say to the man. He raise his shot like everyone else and down it after the toast. He let the strong mix of liquors burn down his throat. It was really good and wondered if he shold get more. Then again being drunk here mgiht not be the best thing. He had to look respectable in front of Katherine after all.

He handed the shot to a passing waited and took another glass of champagne.

[Amunet Knezevic] “I should go.”

Sarita belongs here, not her. Her fingers brush in her hair again, then she reaches to squeeze her sister’s arm.

“I’ll see you Monday, hey?”

[Gabriel Ferreira] A tray of glowing-nuclear liquid is passed around by a larger, heavier wolf, and it would be terribly rude to not partake in a drink prepared by his elder. The Cliath flicks a glance to Katherine, standing cool and poised with her flute in one hand and the Umbral map in the other, and he suppresses a smile as he reaches out a hand to take one of the Collins glasses.

There’s a ring on his left hand, visible only because that’s the hand he uses to pick up the glass.

“Thank you, -rhya,” he tells the Lord.

A toast, and then Katherine is being teased. Gabriel thinks about tossing his back, but holds onto it while his tribal and auspice elder is reminded of the rules of engagement. There is no verbal teasing, but there is an air of expectation about the taller Philodox.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She frowns. “You sure? I know it’s a lot of people here, but…”

She sighs, and then nods. “Okay. Listen, when you get back Monday we’ll hang, okay? Just you and me?”

[Sinclair] Sinclair’s eyebrows flick up a bit. “A… friend?” is all she can give Alejandro, since the cheerful little poppet doesn’t get more specific than that.

[Amunet Knezevic] “We’ve got a flight to catch.” The words tumble over themselves in a rush to make it out. “I mean, it seems like a great party and all, but we’ve got a flight. Yeah, Monday. It’ll be fun, right? ” She smiles, taking a couple of shuffly steps toward the door.

[Alejandro] The poppet nods his head and takes another bite of his celery stick. The shot remains untouched but he eyes it now and then, like he wants to drink it all the same.

“Yes,” he confirms once he has swallowed the vegetable. “Names are.. not meaningless, but I find trouble in translating them. A spirit, or so I’m told. Is he truly your friend?” He asks the last part in a hushed tone, like he doesn’t want to have the hope that such a thing could be possible. The spirits love him — at least the nice ones — most assuredly. But he doesn’t have that; he has never had that.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She sighs. She knows when Amy’s coming up with bullshit excuses to get away. She rubs at her eyes. “Yeah, totally. C’mon, lemme walk you out.”

[Katherine Bellamonte] “I already have a drink, Lukas,” she primly shoots back at him with an expression of great forbearance. Then, as eyes watch, and wait she heaves a sigh and gestures for the tray. “Very well, but I drink under protest. This is peer pressure, hm?”

She holds one up, studies it, and then swallows it out with her eyes closed.

[Sinclair] At that, Sinclair blinks. “Oh. Tripoli,” she says, like she might actually be talking about a two-legged, five-fingered sort of friend. It isn’t that Sinclair doesn’t understand or respect what it means to have a familiar like the one she does, that she’s received something special in the little metal gaffling’s affection and devotion. But it’s Tripoli.

And Alejandro talks in hushed, awed tones and Sinclair just looks at him like he’s grown a third head. Yes, a third. Two wouldn’t quite cover the weirdness she’s attributing to him. “Uh, yeah.” A beat. “Dude, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re really giving off this desperate freshman vibe. Have a shot and chill out.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] And move to walk Amy out she does. She stays outside the Loft once Amy heads off, going into her van and changing out of her swimsuit. Yes, she keeps clothes in her van. You would too if you lived out of it cross-country for ten years. Once she’s dressed she lights up a cigarette, hanging outside and smoking for a bit.

[Adamidas] No one can be quite sure where she went, possibly off to the bathroom (which meant that Adam got lost on the way there) or possibly to the umbra to check out and see how the water spirits actually felt about Kate’s pool (pretty damned good. They like the pool, yay pool!) but what matters is this.

The Black Fury comes back and she’s adjusted herself. she’s got chalk dust in her hair again. Just a little bit of it. Enough to be telling. She snags a drink on the way.

[Alejandro] “Oh..” Colour flushes his cheeks then drains just as quickly. He turns his head down for a moment. It isn’t the first time such an opinion has been expressed and it won’t be the last time.

“I should.. I’m sorry, I just..” Resignation at first, then something else: Nervous courage. He looks at the shot glass again then throws it down the hatch with the awkwardness of someone who is probably doing this for the first time.

[rolling stam for his first drink! +1 dif newbieness]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 7)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] “I applaud your courage,” says the Ahroun who, some time ago, gave a cub a semi-serious lecture about the booze of the tribes. The corner of his mouth tilts, “Now have another one.”

Lukas picks up another one himself then. A moment or two after Sarita escorts her sister out — long enough to let them say their goodbyes — he follows the Strider. Finds her smoking outside, which is one minor sin he’s never really picked up.

“Those will kill you,” he says wryly, taking a seat beside her on the van’s floor, legs hanging out the side sliding door. “But if you’ve got a toke, I’ll share that with you.”

[Sinclair] The Galliard smirks as Alejandro downs the AMF. She glances up as Lukas and Sarita head outside; there’s a flicker of something in her eyes. Maybe longing. She doesn’t go to join them, though. She stays inside the party. There have been times when Lukas has gone to her when she’s down, too. Times when, really, it helps to just have some one on one conversation with their brother.

She goes to find the tray and gets another shot. “Hey, Brass Petals-yuf,” she calls out. “Have a shot! We’re toasting Kate’s awesomesaucesomness.”

[Katherine Bellamonte] The Hostess goes and perches herself on a black leather sofa; crossing her long legs at the knee and balancing at once a flute of champagne and another of the bright blue death drinks her Alpha seems to be intent on her consuming until she falls on her head and has the Grand Elder appearing to strip her of Adren on account of being a drunken dolt.

She tries a second one, however and finds it not quite as eye-watering as the first.

A discreet cough goes unheard beneath a palm and she watches; quite amused as the Theurge re-appears, looking a little dusty. Katherine waves Adamidas over. “What did you want to give me, Brass Petals?”

[Gabriel Ferreira] There’s no triumphant whooping or raucous encouragement as Katherine breaks down and gives into the double-fronted peer pressure from the males. The corner of the Philodox’s mouth quirks into what almost becomes a smile, and then he tosses back his own shot without much effort. The fruitiness of it surprises him, and he blinks.

“I wouldn’t call it ‘peer pressure,'” he says, once he’s recovered.

Her Alpha applauds her courage, bids her take another one, and Gabriel fixes her with another look. She can’t pussy out in front of the Cliath, now, can she?

Then he spares a brief glance around, as if trying to see what his brother is up to. He’s downing shots. Fantastic. A second shot is taken, and Gabriel wipes his mouth before ambling over to collect Alejandro.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks over at Lukas and smiles, exahaling a lungful of smoke. “Lots of things that’ll kill you, mi capitan. Whole mess of ’em.” She stubs out the smoke on the fender, and then leans back into the van to pull up a piece of carpet next to the wheel well. It fit seamlessly enough that you wouldn’t even know it was separate from the rest of the laydown carpet in the place if you didn’t see it get removed. There’s a little compartment there and she flicks a combination, then opens it and pulls out a baggie with a several joints. It wasn’t the only baggie in the compartment.

“The key…as I’ve learned…” She pops the joint into her mouth and lights it up. She takes a drag, holds it in and then slowly exhales before she passes it over. “…is to do the things that you enjoy, whether it kills you or not. Odds are, it’s not the thing that’s gonna.”

A pause. “‘sides, if you live denying every joy you’ve got? You ain’t really living.”

[Adamidas] “Weeoo!”

Don’t have to tell her twice. The female trots over and grabs a shot, only to hear Kate calling her name. She stops about mid step and turns, “the hostess doth beckon. Prost!”

The shot goes back, and it’s sheer force of will and a fair bit of practice that keeps Adam from gagging and looking dazed. She lives at the brotherhood. She drinks. She pays tribute to grain (or maybe it’s potato… she didn’t look at what she drank and the female isn’t experienced enough of a drinker to notice the burn in her throat is distinct depending on what she’s drinking.)

She sidles up and sits herself beside Kate. Or, rather, near Kate. She’s got a grin on her face, and her voice drops to the tone of conversational. But not entirely openly so. Shotglass in one hand, she finds something in her bag with the other. It’s offered to Kate.

[Matthieu] Matthieu was not the kind of man to make a casual appearance. Every thrum of his heart was another beat of a living legacy in the making. Pulsing through his veins wasn’t just the blood of the Heroes of the Garou but the blood of the greatest heroes the world had ever seen. The Silver Fang wasn’t simply born into luxury despite the filth the Shadow Lords would attempt to spread about them. Each and every one of Matthieu’s ancestors was a Hero in their own right. Whether they were eradicating the Black Spiral menace from much of France or helping to draw the Wendigo into the Garou nation in a glorious reunion of cousins removed by countless millenia Matthieu’s ancestors were anything but lazy. Each life was a story all it’s own. Each one leaving behind a story to be shared before all. Some would end in tragedy and some would end in triumph but one thing that could never be said about this ancient family was the fact that they had not earned the greatness that pumped through their veins.

Matthieu was not great… Matthieu was not amazing or incredible. He was smart, he was cunning, and he was charming but he was young and inexperienced. Yet he knew that the weight of his own families greatness rested firmly on his shoulders. It wasn’t just that they wished him to be great, no no no these were Silver Fangs. House and Tribe depend on that greatness in both character and strength. A Silver Fang must be faster he must be stronger and he must be smarter because the fate of the nation, and through the nation the world, rested firmly upon their shoulders.

Others would complain, they would boil with discontent, and they would throw themselves against his people again and again. It has happened time and time again and it would happen again several times in his lifetime. The Silver Fang’s life was a double edged sword. They carried the weight of an entire nation on their shoulders and in turn they carried the contempt and hatred of the enemies of that nation as well as their enemies within. Yet there would be no complaint, and there would be no tears.

The wyrm comes and it tears its way through their world it falls upon the weak and the strong alike but against the walls of the Silver Fang’s ancient fortresses is where it is halted like a bull charging against a brick wall.

The Silver Fangs don’t know they are strong because they were born to rick parents. The Silver Fangs know they are strong because their enemies have thrown anything and everything you can imagine their way and still they stand tall and fast. By the Shadow Lords, their ancient rivals, own reasoning it is the strongest who rule. Well so far the Silver Fangs have ruled for how many Hundred Millenia? Longer than any kingdom of man… Longer than science, and agriculture, longer than man has had fire the Silver Fangs have ruled and still to this day they continue to rule.

This is the legacy Matthieu carries to the door of the Loft. It was an ancient legacy and one which swelled his heart with pride. He might not be great yet but he belonged to a tribe who was judged solely on the merit of their greatness. He would be great in action and deed because he, like every other Silver Fang, will accept nothing less than that.

Patient, and quiet until the time came to speak, the Galliard, and now Elder, stood outside the door biding his time. So much to be done in this city and with this city. So much was going on, and so much needed to be fixed. Ten thousand things might cross his mind on any given day but he was a Silver Fang he would address each one individually, if he has to, and confront them all.

[Alejandro] Alejandro takes down whatever was in that glass, he’s not entirely sure. Then Sinclair’s gone with no promise to introduce him to her spirit friend. “Nice going Alejandro,” he mutters to himself then stuffs the rest of the celery stick and a second one into his mouth, much more uncouth now that he’s alone. He mutters again while he chews. “Desperate freshman vibe.. I’ve never even been to college!” Like the statement makes no sense to him at all.

His brother wanders over and Alejandro hastily hides the empty shot glass amongst a pile of bread sticks.

“Hello Gabi.”

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] “I’ll drink to that,” Lukas says quietly, and then does just that: downs his second adios like nothing.

It’s not nothing, though. It’s one of the more potent mixes on the face of the earth, and when Lukas sets his collins glass down on the pavement between his feet he can feel his head lightening. Sitting up again, he grins — a little lazy, a little crooked — as Sarita pulls a joint out like magic.

“I knew you had a stash.” He sounds satisfied. “Anyone who lives part-time in a van has a stash.”

Lukas takes the joint over, then, taking a long slow hit. They don’t see their Alpha indulge in illegal substances much, and the truth is: he doesn’t. He popped a tab of ecstasy with Danicka the night they got — well. Married. Married in front of a city clerk, in a tiny tender ceremony witnessed by exactly three people, all parental units. Married, and then off to a reception that consisted of a club, groundshaking bass, and a harajuku girl that sold them MDMA; then off to a honeymoon of sorts that consisted of holing up in one of the more exclusive suites in the city for a week.

Before that, the last time he touched anything on the DEA schedule was… well. The week before Mrena died. The week he was too busy tailspinning for his own personal reasons to tend to his pack.

He smokes like he knows what he’s doing, though, passes the joint back and lays himself back, stretched out on the floor of the van with his feet still on the ground outside. His eyes close for a while. Then they open and he looks over at his newest sister.

“So how come you’re so quiet tonight?”

[Gabriel Ferreira] The kid is muttering to himself as his brother crosses the room to join him by the table. Gabriel frowns, curious, and casts a glance back over his shoulder at the barefoot blonde who had been speaking with him a few moments ago. Lips form words, and while he is hardly adept at parsing words out of noiseless movement of the mouth, what he can see on the boy’s face tells him that it didn’t go as well as he’d hoped.

That shot glass isn’t tucked away as quickly as he might think it is.

“Jano.”

He comes to stand beside the Theurge, keeping his eyes facing the rest of the room, hands in his pants pockets again now that he’s devoid of a glass to keep them occupied.

“What happened?” he asks, and it’s hard to tell if he’s asking because it’s in the Decent Concerned Brother script or because he actually wants to know.

[Alejandro] “Nothing.” He grumbles, swallows down the vegetables in his mouth. It’s a moment of brief silence and then: “I just wanted to be friends with her and her stupid spirit buddy.” He says, childishly and low to Gabriel. The way he says it makes it clear that he thinks her spirit friend is anything but stupid. A beat later and he’s proving this when he says:

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. No spirits are stupid. Not even concrete is stupid, Adam really likes concrete. It can be quite clever.”

[Derek Anderson] His second glass of champagne is empty, he pick another shot of AMF151. He start walknig again, picking up a carrot as he pass near the food table. He downed the shot, feeling a nice buzz by now and keeping it at that. He leave the empty shot glass on the tray and munch on the carrot.

Lukas has left for the moment, possibly to check on Sarita and Amy. Katherine is talking to Adam with Sinclair nearby and the two unknown Garou were talking together. And now another unkown has stepped inside. He looked at his watch and wondered if he should head out. Maybe text Kristen and see if she was still awake and wanted to go out for a late snack or something. Probably not though. The Fianna was probably asleep right now.

He drifted closer to the entrance. He’ll stay a little while longer than get home.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Mirror’s Whisper enters into a glittery — and strangely eclectic in terms of those present — party in full swing. The Galliard Elder has his coat taken by Katherine’s dutiful maid, Lucille at the door, she nods to him and points him inward hanging it up carefully on a hanger.

Down the corridor; the space opens up into Katherine Bellamonte’s white washed dining area. Large black sofas have been pushed outward to make room for guests and three or four waiters are doing tours with trays of food and drink. Asha’s herald, the Kinsman known as Thomas is here, too. A respectable fellow sitting quietly near the hostess, herself. Honor’s Compass, newly minted Adren, is listening to something the Theurge Elder is telling her, her eyes on a bag that seems to contain something of importance.

Katherine notes Matthieu, he gets a bright smile, and a gesture to enter, and make himself at home as Rain of Brass Petals offers Katherine over a beautiful, if broken necklace. Honor’s Compass frowns at the delicate thing in her hands, setting her glass down so she might better cradle it. Her pale eyes quite focused on what the Theurge is attempting to convey.

“Thank you, Adamidas. It is … beautiful. I am very moved you should give this to me, but are you quite sure you wish to part with something so dear to your heart? It was your friend’s, your words are enough.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She grins. “Of course I have a stash. Shit, Lukas, how do you think I keep myself in gas, smokes, fast food and cell phone service?” A little chuckle comes forth, fairly dry as he takes the joint. She’s never been blatant about how she and Amy scrape by, but she never really hid it either. Patrick knows; Hunter and the rest of Defiance know. It’s a psuedo-living, nothing more.

She watches him take the hit, surprised when he handles it like a pro. “Well, ain’t you just hardcore? I’m impressed, boss-man.” She takes it back and takes another hit, eyes wandering up to the sky. She always finds herself looking at the sky for some reason when she doesn’t have anywhere else to go. She’s never gotten why, and she rarely even thinks about it. She’d attribute it to Luna if she did. It’s not why.

And then he asks why she’s so quiet. Her eyes drop from their upward cast and look over at him. She lets the smoke out in a sigh and brings a foot up to rest against the fender, knee against her chest. “Lot on my mind, I guess. Lotta changes, and I know change can be good. Some changes…obviously…very good. I’m ecstatic over. Others…” She looks down the road where Amy’s cab took her. “The two don’t correlate and the reasons behind Amy have little to nothing to do with the rest, but it feels like I traded a sister for four (three) siblings.”

[Sinclair] It’s easy to interact with Sinclair — or even try to say hi to her — and end up feeling like she just isn’t interested. That her pack is enough for her, thanks, she doesn’t quite want or need to get to know anyone else. She ignores kinfolk to the point of it seeming as though she despises them — and she wouldn’t be the first Garou to get to the point of just not wanting to deal with them anymore. Alejandro comes over because he’s heard she has a spirit familiar and he’s really, really interested in being introduced, and Sinclair tells him to chill out and goes to get another drink.

This apparently meant, to Alejandro, that she wasn’t coming back. That she was blowing him off. Hardly. She gets her shot, yells at Adamidas to get one, and then she’s coming back to the food, blinking as she overhears some of what Alejandro tells his brother. She looks amused, downing her third — fourth? — shot and laughing as she comes up, slinging an arm around the wee Theurge.

“See? Desperate freshman vibe. You like the shot?”

[Adamidas] “Wouldn’t do it unless I meant it. And I wouldn’t give it to you unless I’d thought about it, besides I don’t think Hera’s gonna be pissed about the regifting,” she says. Can’t be too serious but… well, the first statement is serious enough to carry her weight, “and if she is she’ll just kick my ass in the homelands and we’ll call it good.”

Because even though Adam’s outlived her friend by a fair bit, Hera will still be able to kick her ass in the homelands.

[Gabriel Ferreira] The look on the older Garou’s face becomes one of enlightenment, as though the word Nothing contains everything that he needs to know. Nothing. Just talking to an older, higher ranked, more experienced Garou and she wasn’t impressed by what she saw. No big deal.

Without waiting to be pressed, without Gabriel even looking over and down at him, Alejandro explains. There’s a snort when he calls her familiar ‘stupid,’ and that’s when Gabriel looks over at him.

“Which one’s Adam?” he asks, looking back to the room.

The tall blue-eyed kinsman is slowly sneaking towards the exit, and Gabriel watches him a moment before yet another tall creature joins the fray. Matthieu, too, is watched a moment, and by process of elimination, he comes to the tiny teenage girl speaking with their elder.

Before he can start teasing the younger Cliath about his choice in female companions, the Glass Walker returns, slinging an arm around him. Gabriel watches, and though he’s being introduced as the boy’s brother, there is not even a whiff of hypermasculine overprotectiveness in him.

Must be the age difference meant he never had to slam another kid into a locker for fucking with his brother growing up.

[Alejandro] “That one,” he points her out just as Sinclair is wandering back over to them. Her laughter is noticed before anything else and he’s half prepared for something that just isn’t there. She’s amused and it isn’t mean-spirited, not that he thought she was being mean just dismissive. There’s none of that though, just an arm around his shoulders and he tilts his head to look first at his brother with a surprised twisting of his lips into that boyish smile of his and then at Sinclair.

See? Desperate freshman vibe. You like the shot?

I found it.. interesting.” A beat and then: “I may require another before I can truly give a fair judgement.”

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] “That’s me. Hardcore.” Lukas laughs quietly. “Truth is before we came out here we used to run under Kate’s brother Ed. Total prodigal son, a charming wastrel. My best friend for a long, long time … it’s a long story. But he had the hookups. Silver Fangs, nothing but the finest green.”

And then that quiet, and then he’s asking her why so serious, and she’s … telling him. He turns to look at her as she does; follows her eyes down the road, lifting his head to see. Then, laying back again:

“I don’t blame you for feeling like that, but I don’t think it’s quite that. It’s true that with you getting packed up, she might feel a little like what used to be you and her has become you-and-your-pack, and then her on the side. I think it’s always going to be a sort of tension in our lives. We’re not like real wolves, whose families are their packs. We’ve got pack-family. We’ve got blood-family. I think it takes a lot of work and balance and understanding to make it work, and the sad thing is I think a lot of us … don’t really make it work, ever.

“But I don’t think that’s the only reason she seems to be drifting farther away. You told me from the start that your sister’s a wildcard, and even though you love her you don’t really think you’re capable of protecting her and warding her the way you’re ‘supposed to’.” He doesn’t have to make air quotes for Sarita to hear them. “She’s like a kite. As much slack as you feed out, if there’s too much strain the line’s going to snap. And a whole lot of shit went down for her, fast. It wasn’t your fault and there wasn’t anything you could do better than you did.

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do better than you’re doing, either. Try to keep her close. Try to protect her, but … ”

Maybe it’s the booze. Maybe it’s the pot starting to unfurl. Either way, Lukas’s thoughts are loose and languid, drifting easily from one subject to the next.

“I heard from my tribesman that he’s claiming her as a mate. Is she happy with that?”

[Katherine Bellamonte] The Silver Fang laughs; a light, tinkling sound rather like windchimes and honey, it is all sweetness, that noise. You would never believe that the creature making it could rip your heart from your chest while it was still beating with her claws in another form; she is entirely too much of a lady; too demure and composed.

“Well, let’s just say I’m only looking after it for the time being, before one day, it is passed along again.” A moment’s quiet, Katherine looks steadily at Adamidas. She had done a rite of reawakening with the Theurge, once, not so long ago. They’d brought back the new season; seen much.

“In the spirit of honesty, Brass Petals, accept my words to you. You’ve grown a lot since I’ve seen you last, I know there is much that we do not know of one another, but what I have glimpsed makes me quite proud to know of you, to introduce you as the leader of our Theurges in the city. It is not an easy thing, being the one looked to, to make the choices.”

[Sinclair] “Yeah, you totally need more,” Sinclair says, hearing that. She pulls back, clapping him on the shoulder. “Get some more, get trashed. It’s a party and if you’re gonna live here then it’s not like you have to worry about getting home safe.”

Nothing more is said about Tripoli, her stupid spirit friend. She actually heads off on her own again. Adamidas is giving the defiantly sober Katherine a gift, something shiny. Sinclair doesn’t seem terribly invested in getting to know the latest and greatest Silver Fangs in town, and in general she gives Matthieu a wide berth in case he either thinks being a Galliard means she wants to hear him regale her with tales of his ancestors or that being a Glass Walker means he can snit at her. So far he has never done either, so she’s perfectly happy to keep it that way.

And, with a brief moment of eye contact with Kate to let her know she’s slipping out for a bit, Sinclair heads outside in the direction of her only brother and her newest sister.

There is a knock on the van’s door. “OPEN UP!” she hollers. “I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING IN THERE.”

[Adamidas] “You get old, you grow up,” she says. The situation she’s in right now isn’t that different from the one that she was in a year ago. All things considered, though, it’s a world away and a different place in time. She’s not as… well… she’s different now. She’s learned from failure.

“And someone has to make calls, it’s not easy but… ya know… gotta do it,” she says, but she smiles anyway. It’s something sincere and she bites back that little bit of failing to accept a compliment graciously. She mulls it over and reaches up to push some of her own ahir back, “that means a lot to hear, thanks.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She listens to Lukas as she looks down the road. Her eyes don’t leave the path that the cab left down, but she is clearly listening to him, He’s telling her things she already knew, but they haven’t come from anyone else yet. They’ve been in her own mind–rationalizations and blind optimism that she did everything they could, or platitudes from Amy, who is far from reliable lately at being open with how she really feels. So the words from the Shadow Lord are comfort. They reinforce her.

However, it’s not all true. Not to Sarita, and she shakes her head. “I shouldn’t have lied to her about what happened with Hunter and John. I mean, I know that it was for the best. I know that if I’d told her right then and there, I’d have had to keep her on a damn suicide watch for…hell, days, weeks. But she would have trusted me, at least. Now…that’s broken, because I sat there and smiled while she talked about how he was going to be back soon when I knew he was fuckin’ charcoal.”

She shrugs. “I know what you’re saying. Things…they’ll normalize. I just don’t like the way it is right now, and I don’t like how she’s uncomfortable when she comes here. Which isn’t anyone’s fault, really. I’m worried about her and I hate that I can’t help her.”

The van door gets knocked on, and Sarita hears Sinclair yell. She smirks and shouts through the open back door. “Come around, dork. I an’t crawlin’ through the damn thing to open the door when we got a perfectly good open one here.”

She looks back to Lukas now and nods. “Yeah, it’s true. She’s…yes, she’s happy. I personally don’t know that she’s ready to move on after what happened? And I’m still worried for her. But when I talked to her last night…yes, she cares about him, and he cares about her from what she says. That makes her happy, so…” He shrugs.

“I’m gonna make you kick his ass if he hurts her, though. Just FYI.” A faint joke.

[Sinclair] “WHAT?” Sinclair yells back, as though she didn’t hear. But then she’s laughing, and it’s clear that about four AMFs have got her more than a little buzzed. “Fuck me,” she says, and tromps around to the side door, crawling in like her legs stopped working right as she got to the carpeted edge. She sniffs. “You guys are smoking weed.”

Nevermind that they have the joint out still. She is only using her keen powers of nasal perception. Yup.

[Gabriel Ferreira] “Try not to get too drunk, huh?” Gabriel asks the Theurge, after the Fostern has left to find the rest of her pack. It’s a rhetorical question. “As cute a story as it would be for the grandchildren, if I have to clean blue vomit off of anything I will not be happy.”

The entire time they’ve been in each others’ presence, Resurrection hasn’t shown himself to have much of a sense of humor. Granted, when they first met after however long their previous absence had been, the Philodox had been half-starved and definitely crazed after spending Gaia knows how long hunting the Umbra for a creature of whom he only had scent memory to guide him. He wasn’t cracking a whole hell of a lot of jokes after that.

Tonight it’s a full moon. That certainly isn’t helping.

He claps his ring-bearing hand on the shorter boy’s shoulder, then picks up a pair of champagne flutes from wherever the booze station is. Apparently he’d learned that the best way to approach wallflower Kinfolk is with alcohol in hand; he approaches Derek slowly, careful not to make eye contact least his Rage give the kinsman the impression that he’s undergoing trepanation.

“Here,” he says, handing one of the flutes to Derek before he can sneak out. “This will make the entire affair less painful.”

[Alejandro] He totally needs more, so he totally goes to get more. It’s with a grin to his brother and a nod of his head. “I’ll try not to! But I also may try to get a little drunk, I’m awful curious.”

And he scampers off to collect a pair of shots. These ones he eyes like they’ve got promise rather than any unknown threat. He takes them both over to Adam and Kate, offers one of them to the Theurge.

“Hi Adam!” He beams. “You can have one of these if you would like.”

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] “No, you shouldn’t have lied to her.” There’s this, at least: his blunt honesty has a sort of gentleness to it. “That’s what I think, anyway. But at least you lied because you loved her, not because it made your life easier.”

Sarita talks about Stefan, though, about Amy being happy, about Stefan caring about her. A flicker goes through the Ahroun’s eyes. He’s on the verge of answering when Sinclair bangs on the door and then crawls in the back, making him laugh quietly, reach out, grab her in a bearhug and tumble her down.

“You bet your ass we’re smoking pot in here. Here, let me have another hit.”

And taking it, exhaling it, he goes back to the subject — not bothering to backtrack for Sinclair, figuring she’s bright enough to pick up on the gist even if she’s packed down godknowshowmany AMFs.

“The thing is,” he says, “I am a little worried that Stefan might hurt Amy. Maybe not on purpose. Everything I’ve seen and heard about him says he’s an upstanding Garou, does things right. Does things by the book. But that’s sort of the problem. My mate — who reads people like I read books — thinks maybe nothing’s really there under the surface. Like he’s just … cold and barren inside, just going through all the motions the way he was taught without feeling any of it. Without feeling for any of it, maybe.

“And then there’s this whole business about him apparently doing something so shocking and hush-hush that Defiance might not want to pack with him anymore.” Lukas shrugs the best he can, flat on his back as he is. “I don’t know. I don’t want to smear a Garou’s good name on nothing but conjecture and rumors, and I haven’t had the time to followup on anything yet. But she’s your sister, and you’re my sister. I just think … maybe for a while at least, keep a bit of an eye on her. Even if she’s not technically your concern anymore.”

[Derek Anderson] He had been about to move toward Kate, thank her ofr the party and get out when one of the three unknown Garou stopped near and offered him a flute of champagne. Now, he could be impolite and refuse, bid good night and run home or he could be the proper Silver Fang kin, smile politly with a nod of the head and say

“Thank you, and yeah, I guess it helps” He took the flute

“How are you doing Sir?”He say very polite. He didn’t knew the man, so he didn’t dare being too friendly “My name’s Derek by the way” He say offering his hand to him. He didn’t need to tell him of his tribe. He knew the man could msell him and beside that, he was the only kin, obviously not one of ladies mate, so technically he must be of Kate’s tribe.

“Are oyu new to the city or we just haven’t crossed path?”

[Adamidas] “Oh kick ass,” there is a shot brought to her and she perks up. Half flesh, and she’s content to live in it. Pay homage to it, attempt to beat her liver into submission with whatever Alejandro has in his hand because it goes straight to her lips and down the hatch. Pride keeps her head from swimming but pride also tells her to drink more, which is usually how you end up playing chicken fight in swimming pools and waking up bound to a completely foreign totem.

“Thanks. You having fun?”

A moment.

“We should play, like, Apples to Apples or something. Best game ever.”

[Sinclair] Sinclair has no idea what they’re talking about in here right now. She has only the barest knowledge of Sarita’s troubles with her sister, she never met Drawn in Blood that she can recall, she has only dim awareness of what happened to him and as a rule she avoids thinking about, talking about, or dealing with the pack that is now Defiance, was once the Vanguard. She crawls into the van on her hands and knees, is grabbed,

“Ack,” she says blandly, “ack. Ack.” And flops down.

Lukas leaves her there, gets another hit. Sinclair rolls onto her back and stares at the roof of Sarita’s van thoughtfully, her knees bent and her feet akimbo and her hands on her belly. She listens. “You should talk to Kate about Gabriella,” she says, after Lukas has finished talking for a minute.

Her arm lifts. She snaps her fingers. “GIVE A GIRL A JOINT. Joint. Jointjointjoint.”

[Katherine Bellamonte] The Theurge brings over more shots, and Katherine accepts one with a little smile from the Cliath. She clinks the glass against the Theurge elder and downs it; grimacing briefly.

“Oh,” Katherine says with pink-cheeked enthusiasm. “We have a great mass of games somewhere. On those machines upstairs that Sinclair yells at frequently when she uses them. I also purchased — ” A little hiccup. Katherine covers her mouth, apology never looked so sincere. Continues. “Some gear for the pool so they can play water tennis or something in there. The net just needs affixing.”

[Alejandro] “I am!” He says and tips his own shot back, albeit slightly more delicately so than his Auspice Elder. There’s a brief moment of silence where there’s confusion and indecision on his face before he blurts out:

“What’s Apples to Apples?! Let’s play. It doesn’t matter what it is.” A pause and he fidgets with his ill-fitted suit, plucks at it like it’s constricting him — which it is — followed by: “We must.”

And then there’s more games. Upstairs apparently. “Let’s go explore, Adam.”

[Matthieu] Matthieu enters the house with a pleasant smile. He was a naturally charming individual, he did not necessarily radiate the intense heat of rage that so many others did. Make no mistake those eyes burned with passion and fury alike but that smile showed control. Matthieu was not some savage wild beast he was a beast in complete control of his faculties. This was part of what made one a Silver Fang the ability to exert complete control at all times. To never let your temper flare past a certain point, to never lose your cool unless it was warranted. Matthieu might as well have had a red carpet rolled out before him by the way he strode across the floor and greeted his host with the warmest of smiles. In his hands a small box was held firmly and close to himself. The box itself was hard wood and polished, it was quite decorative but likely not what the Galliard had intended as a gift for the eldest of his tribe within the city.

He came upon his hostess and took the time to greet all in the room with a polite and friendly smile though his intention was in greeting the hostess first. She was his direct elder and was this not a celebration of her achievements? Silver Fang achievements were special affairs. Not to belittle or speak down to the other tribes but when a Silver Fang reached a milestone in their life it was simply grander than that of the average garou. Certainly the other tribes would argue otherwise but if there is one thing that a Silver Fang is used to it is resistance from the other tribes. It doesn’t mean the other tribes aren’t impressive in their own right it is just that Silver Fangs hold themselves to a higher standard than the other tribes. Matthieu has tried to lecture the others in these matters but rarely do they seem to hear him. No only a Silver Fang can truly understand.

He waits until she turns to face him or greet him or otherwise acknowledge his presence. He does not with to impose or intrude in the middle of his elder’s party! When she does turn her attention back towards him he finally speaks in a proud and carefully practiced voice.”Katherine Bellamonte, Truth’s Meridian, Honor’s Compass there are few in the region who have not heard of your ascent. Allow me to honor you Rhya with a gift sent by my own father to celebrate this momentous occasion.”He says this while presenting the box, which was roughly five by five inches on a side and roughly four inches high. The hard wood was held together by hand crafted metalwork and the box itself looked as if it could be older than Chicago itself. A tiny latch held the box closed, and the top of the box held two markings denoting the Silver fang tribe as well as the glyph of the Half Moon.

“We all work hard in our lives Rhya but the rise to Adren is a symbol that few achieve. No longer are you a young woman working to make her way in the world your voice will carry itself within our tribe and nation. For when an Adren speaks even the most stubborn of elders will stop to listen and those cliaths foolish enough not to hear the wisdom spoken from her lips will soon learn to regret their decision.”He adds in the warmest of tones to his elder. His smile shows through and he allows her to take the box before stepping backwards and folding his hands neatly before him.

Matthieu was dressed surprisingly well. It was hard to pick out the designer, however, unless one was familiar with local designers. Everything he wore was custom tailored and each and every thread was carefully placed to fit his figure perfectly. Simply looking at him revealed that he must have spent two hours getting ready for this affair. Appearance was important it showed honor and respect for ones peers. To appear disheveled and worn in the company of others showed a lack of respect for oneself as well as their peers. Matthieu was old money, tradition, well bred and trained. The last thing he would ever wish to do is appear as anything less than who he was.

[Gabriel Ferreira] The flute changes hands, and the strange, Rage-heavy Garou lifts the one remaining in a silent toast before taking a sip. Sir, he calls him, and this doesn’t strike him nearly as strange as it likely ought to. It’s analogous to a civilian referring to a Private First Class as ‘sir,’ but Gabriel doesn’t correct him, or mock him.

He folds his lips to get the moisture off of them and answers, “No complaints, yet.”

His name’s Derek, by the way.

They shake, the Garou’s hand dry yet powerfully warm.

“Gabriel,” he says, yet it is not pronounced as though he was born in America, to American parents; it’s a rounder ‘a,’ stress on the last syllable rather than the first, though he himself does not seem to have much of an accent. “Pleasure, Derek.”

In the scant amount of time that Derek spends asking his question, the slightly shorter male takes another belt off of his flute. He doesn’t have the typical Full Moon’s social awkwardness or the typical Gibbous Moon’s propensity for long-winded speech, yet his Rage would suggest he could easily be either of those auspices.

“Both, it seems. My brother–” He turns towards the rest of the room, briefly, to point out the floppy-haired blond who’s about to disappear with the Theurge Elder. “–and I just arrived this week.” He turns away from the room again to ask, “So which one’s yours?”

[Adamidas] “No no no, that’s water volley ball. If it was tennis then you’d have raquets and the ball would have to bounce and I don’t think I wanna play water volley ball with Lukas because he looks like he has a seriously good vertical leap and spiking the ball could cause a concussion and I don’t want to, like, drown while playing volleyball. It’s not that important.”

She grinned, and her expression is surprisingly mellow. She’s not a very heavy person, she didn’t eat much today and despite her bravado, Adam doesn’t do this often. It seems that her ability to drink, much like a lot of things about her, happen to be directly tied to her strength of will and her strength of purpose. Her purpose tonight, it seemed, wasn’t to look like a badass while drinking. It was to celebrate Kate and get shitfaced.

“And it’s a word game! There are cards and you have a hand of them, right? And someone throws down a word- an adjective specifically, and you have to throw down nouns that match that adjective. It’s really, really fun and I promise it’s not half as lame as it sounds.”

He wants to explode. Can they explore?

“It’s Kate’s house!”
Ergo, Kate’s call.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She’s already had another hit by time Lukas calls for it, and she passes it over. Sinclair gets a grin when she makes her keen observation. “Good call.”

She looks at the Ahroun when he says she shouldn’t have lied. She doesn’t take it as reproach, just as agreement. She gives a frown though, when Lukas talks about Stefan. Well, he is a pretty crazy sunovabitch. Yeah, but Sarita doesn’t know that. Dude, it’s right on his freaking sheet! You mean that thing that Sarita doesn’t have access to? Oh…yeah, right. Exactly.

The Strider listens, and she shakes her head. “Thaaaat’s encouraging.” She considers. “She seems to think he’s good for her. I can’t say I trust her judgment right now, but she seemed to trust him before this whole shitstorm of doom fell on her like a freaking Rube Goldberg-esque Jigsaw trap of melancholy and Fall-Out Boy songs. Thanks…I’ll keep an eye on her.”

She pauses. “But then, I was gonna keep an eye on her anyway. Assuming we both make it that far, I’m pretty sure I’ll be keeping an eye out on her from the nursing home. Metaphorically speaking.”

[Derek Anderson] He shook the hand firmly and briefly “It’s a pleasure as well”He drank some more from the flute, listening to Gabriel talking. “So ALejandro is your brother?”

His eyes look in the same direction as Gabriel, watching them too. “He kind of told me his name in passing earlier”he say with a lgiht shrugh. The young Garou seemed energitic. His attention return on the older brother

“Which one’s is mine what? Family? None, I come from Pittsburgh, mate? None either” After all one was taken, one was either possibly gay or jsut kin hateful and another was crazy…maybe two of them were. Adam seemed to be in her own world sometimes. “Katheirne is my guardian as she is tribe elder”

He simply say, drinking some more champagne.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] “And that’s why you’re a good sister,” Lukas concludes, laughing, “even if you feel like a shitty one right now.”

Serious again, “I mean that. I got lucky with my sister. A lot of Garou with siblings end up a lot worse off. Kate, for one. Rebellion, self-endangerment, heartbreak, you name it. Most of them handle it by either severing all ties or locking their loved ones up. It’s nice to see that you have the courage to just let her make her own mistakes. You’re just there for her if she wants you. If not, you don’t push it, and you make it clear that her mistakes are her own responsibility.”

Lukas doesn’t know where, exactly, that train of thought is going. He lets it go, tucking one hand behind his head. Quiet now.

After a while, “Is Kate still entertaining in there?”

[Katherine Bellamonte] Honor’s Compass takes the box from her Cousin with a due amount of tenderness. The Galliard’s father had sent it, and Katherine admires it from every angle, sweeping a hand over the carved Glyphs atop it before raising her head to listen, head slightly tilted to everything the newly anointed Galliard Elder says to her.

Pink cheeks, flushed with drink and accomplishment, further color and she offers a hand up to her Cousin in thanks.

“Your father does me great honor, Mirror’s Whisper in sending such a token, please do pass on my most sincere thanks to him for this gift, and thank you for coming tonight. I am glad to see my tribe doing so well in Chicago. It brings me a great amount of happiness. I hope you will stay, and meet some of our new Cousins.”

Katherine inclines her head at Alejandro. “This is Alejandro Seeks the Horizon, his brother is over by our Kinsman there, his name is Gabriel, another Half Moon as myself.” They want to explore, Katherine smiles. “You are welcome to adventure where you do, but be careful on the stairs.”

[Gabriel Ferreira] So Alejandro is your brother?

The noise Gabriel makes is quarantined to his throat, an affirmation that doesn’t seem to believe it needs to validate the situation with an actual verbal response. Perhaps he’s just loathe to admit it, yet there is nothing outwardly wrong with the Theurge that would garner such a reaction. His renown, endowed with it as he is, is impressive for someone so young. One would think the teenager’s family would be pleased with him.

The rest of the family isn’t present, though, so all Derek has is his older brother. He looks, more than anything else, weary, as though Alejandro is seven instead of seventeen.

No family present. No mate. Katherine is his guardian, as she’s tribe elder.

“So I hear.”

He’s putting a mighty rapid dent in his champagne.

“How’s a guy like you get away with no mate?” he asks.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Thanks. Kinda just the way it had been. I could only get away with zip-tying her in her sleep once.” She’s grinning. But she’s serious, too. It’s a long story.

She scrubs at her face, then looks at the house. “I haven’t seen anyone come out, so either she’s entertaining, everyone passed out or everyone drowned in the pool. Those are about the options I see.”

[Sinclair] “I don’t have any brudders or sisters,” Sinclair informs them, slurring a bit. “I have cousins, but they’re not as bad.” She might be talking to the van’s ceiling. Nobody has given her a joint so her hand has flopped back down on her stomach.

“I think the pack-family is more important for that,” she muses, but she wasn’t here earlier, she doesn’t know that Lukas talked about pack families and families before. “For that… siblingish thing. S’like brothers and sisters, they’re s’posed to know you, nobody else in the world has really had a life like you’ve had or somefing, an they know you or somefing and so they get it. You know? They just… get stuff.

“But we aren’t really gonna have that same kinda close thing with Kin, even if they’re like, our twin. You wanna know a sad story I’ll tell you ’bout some twins an one of ’em changed and one of ’em didn’t and it’s just… ”

There are tears in her eyes. She closes them for a moment. Opens them again. “I dunnow,” she says, quieter. “There’s definitely stuff you can’t get from pack, though. Can’t get from anyone but Kin, anI’m not just talking bout sex or something, I’m not, it’s… y’know there’s reasons.”

A beat. “There’s reasons we have em and need em it sure isn’t to clean up our messes or be all badass with us in battle or be our stupid heralds and servants or babydaddies or something, it’s just something else and so I’m really meaning it when I say you should talk to Kate because if you don’t wanna lose your sister, if you don’t –”

Sinclair is crying now, the tears rolling out of her eyes and down the sides of her face, off her temples, hitting the van’s carpeting. “If you don’t wanna lose her. Cuz it’s so easy to lose them.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, and opens them after she’s pushed out the rest of the tears that came so quickly and so unbidden. She takes a breath, and exhales, and seems to be done.

“Alcohol makes people sad,” she concludes.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Amendment:

Katherine then does open the box.

[Alejandro] “Hello!” Matt gets from Alejandro, just as cheery as usual. He’s a short boy, hair that isn’t so much floppy as it is unruly. But it flops in places, so there is that. He would say more; maybe he would give Matt a proper introduction, he really would like to but Kate told them they can explore [explode].

“I like the sound of this game Adam, this apples to apples. Let us see if we can find it in this wonderful home.”

He scoops up another shot and drinks it rather clumsily before literally running off into the house. He’s a menace, he’s going to break something, he is definitely not going to be careful on the stairs.

[Derek Anderson] He tilted his heaad at Gabriel’s comment “Ha, well either I”m too fragile or just ont the type for some people.” He grinned “It’s ok really. I’m not comlaining at the moment. Seem like I just haven’t found the right person or more probably haven’t been found by said person.”After all usually kin don’t choose, they are chosen.

He drank some more “Also, maybe my work keep peopel at bay. I”m a detective. Many memebers of the Nation are doing dubious things related to mortal laws. Maybe some think I”ll actually try to arest them or I”ll be offended or something” He shrugh “Whatever it is, I guess eventually i’ll change and I”ll be mated. Or I’ll die doing my duties first. Whatever happens, happens right?”

[Gabriel Ferreira] Whatever, his hair is floppy.

[Adamidas] “He’s going to break his faaaace and it’s not my faaauuult-” she says as she’s standing up and heading off to follow Alejandro. She’s decidedly less graceful at this moment, but she’s also loud and-

Oh, wait, being loud isn’t a good thing.

[Gabriel Ferreira] “Don’t run in the house.

He doesn’t yell, but the Philodox’s voice carries quite a bit further than one would suspect it to be capable of doing. It’s the clapping of Alejandro’s shoes that has him briefly turning his head to issue that matronly warning, and then Derek is answering him.

What he says has Gabriel watching him a bit longer than might be comfortable for the kinsman, or for anyone who happens to be looking over at them at the time. He’s silent, mulling this over, blue eyes drifting from blue only when champagne flutes are lifted, and Derek continues on.

“Right,” he confirms. His flute is becoming dangerously empty, and that AMF is starting to creep into his veins like a pernicious reminder that he isn’t impervious to a few things: balefire, silver, and drinks mixed by Shadow Lords. At least he’s not crying, yet. “You said you’re a detective?” A pause for confirmation. “I can see that intimidating certain females.”

[Matthieu] “My Great great great great great great great grandfather was Joseph Louis II known to the nation as Judgement’s Hand a Half-Moon like yourself though he died an elder, something which I look forward to seeing you achieve. He was a staunch believer in the Garou nation and it’s merits but he could also see it’s flaws.”He says back to her before turning his attention to the other two and greeting each with a polite bow.”Well then I shall have to take a moment after we are through here and properly introduce myself to them all!”

“Judgement’s Hand was not a warrior like his father he was a thinker, and a planner. He knew that we could not rule this nation by might of arms alone. He would be the first to tell you that our laws must be held sacred as the unifying force of our society and as a result there should be no one individual above those laws. Whether he be your king or your own mate justice must be blind to personal opinion.”He continues.

“In this he helped to forge the strength of my own house and sought to open himself up as a judge, not just to Silver Fangs but to all tribes.”He says with a nod of his head.”As Europe head forcefully into the reformation he too helped to reform our own peoples ways and to make certain justice was blind to position and tribe. All garou must have faith in our laws or our society cannot function.”He speaks of his ancestor with such pride, and why shouldn’t he be? Each one has his own stories and tales to tell. So much to share.”You may not be his descendant but he would be proud to know you share his moon, and I am sure one day when you too pass from this world he will be glad to welcome you as a friend.”He says with the warmest little smile.

Inside the box she would find tiny white carvings, each individual piece was rather smooth, and shaped with enough imperfections to imply it was indeed crafted by an artisan who did not have the machinery of today on his side. Half the pieces were red, and the other pieces were white. Anyone familiar with the game of Chess would recognize these pieces as exactly that! Only very very very old pieces.

“He loved the game of Chess, it’s current incarnation came into being within his lifetime and he liked to believe that while it was the Full Moon’s place to rule the battlefield it was the Half Moon whose careful mind saw what the, often brash, full moon could not. In that sense he regularly challenged his peers in order to challenge their minds… In this way garou might become greater for stopping to utilize all their strengths.”He adds in a softer tone.”So in that sense I feel this would be best gifted to you. Might you continue to improve strength of mind, body, and spirit to honor your own ancestors as well as my own.”He finally concludes.

“You will need to find your own board. The original board was destroyed almost three hundred years ago.”He adds with a little laugh.”His granddaughter was not so even tempered as he.”

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [fuck, i misread sarita’s post. i thought she passed the joint to sinclair, not lukas. lukas woulda passed it to sinclair! ohwell. *rolls with it* apparently he’s just TOO DRUNK AND STONED.]

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] “Hey.” Lukas pushes himself up on his elbows, alarmed. “Hey, hey.”

It’s somewhere between awkward and natural, the way he pulls Sinclair against him. He doesn’t tell her not to cry. That seems at once pointless and insulting. He just — hugs her. Sidehugs her, and lets her to cry it out. The joint is still smouldering in his hand. He’s forgotten about it. It’s possible he thinks he passed it to Sinclair already.

“No it doesn’t,” he disagrees when Sinclair concludes that alcohol makes people sad. And this sounds very wise to him right now: “It just makes you stop hiding the sad.

“You should, though.” He’s talking to Sarita now. “Talk to Kate, I mean. She has a sister, Gabriella, who was one of those nightmare kin siblings I talked about. It was … hellish on all of us, but especially on her, to go through that. I think you’re doing better with your sister, but you should still talk to her. She probably has insight I don’t.”

[Derek Anderson] He blinked when the man yelled at his younger brother then the man stared at him. And osmehow, Derek seemed almsot entirely comfortable during that time. After all, he’s the one who enjoys the companie of a crazy Strider Ragabash and actually is fascinated by Sinclair and the predator feel about her. If he could, and it would never happen, he would sit and talk with the Glass Walker for hour despire the feeling, or play vdeo games or what not.

Maybe he wascrazy himself but he didn’t mind danger or feeling fear or discomfort. Maybe that’s why he was a cop or maybe being a cop helped him dealing with those feelings, then again, maybe he was starting to feel drunk and had those crazy thoughts and rationalization.

Either way, he didn’t squirm or look away. He wasn’t bold enough to look the man in the eyes, but if allowed, he probably would “Yes, I”m a detective”He confirm to the man before chuckling at his next comment

“Seriously, my job can’t be intimidating ot a woman who can turn into a 10 feet killing machine and withstand bullets, blades and jsut about everthing else”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Her face falls when she hears Sinclair’s voice start to go in that direction. It’s not just the voice…sometimes, there’s a feeling like something in the air. Like ozone before lightning strikes, the hair on the back of your neck. And most of the time, you’re as powerless to stop it as you would be to stop a thunder storm.

And then the tears come. And much like Lukas, Sarita hugs Sinclair from the other side. She doesn’t say anything. She just nods in agreement to Lukas and Sinclair’s advice.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Gabriel’s voice carries a warning and Katherine’s eyes flick his way instantly as it issues such; there is caution enough in that. Her eyes on him; the pale blue conveying the silent reminder. My house, my rules. Yet she does not openly reprimand him, for it does not demand such, yet. He is a brother, cautioning another — she cannot openly fault him for it.

She returns her interest to Matthieu, and carefully extracts a chess piece to admire its craftsmanship before setting it back inside with sincere regard. “Thank you, Matthieu, they are — ” a moment, she cannot find a suitable way to word it, settles, rather than finds.

“Quite lovely. I shall treasure them.”

[Alejandro] Don’t run in the house.

He doesn’t look over his shoulder, but he does suddenly turn his frantic bounding into a very fast paced and awkward walk. He tries on the mask of innocence, like he had never been running in the first place. Adam catches up and then he’s off again, up the stairs and he trips but that’s okay, and he hurts his knee but that’s also okay.

Up and onwards. It would be easy to think that if he scraped himself on the concrete he’d laugh, but if he fell over on the grass he would definitely cry.

What he emerges to is.. well it’s: “This is awesome!” He says to Adam, “Look at all this stuff.” There’s couches and bean bags and gym equipment he’s not really sure what to do with.

“Where do you think Apples to Apples would be?”

[Matthieu] He nods his head back to her.”I did not feel it appropriate not to measure this milestone in your life without something worthy of that moment. I am sure Judgement’s Hand will be honored to know they are safe in your care.”He adds with a little nod of his head.”But enough of that, I suppose I should run and mingle. Seems we’ve had quite an influx of newcomers and I should like to have to chance to meet each and every one.”He continues in a soft and controlled voice. He was practiced so far as speech came. Though he could be wordy each word was spoken in a manner intended to invoke emotions or lead a conversation in one way or another.

He so loved to invoke the names of heroes, or dreams, or beauty and passion. He was a Galliard and his voice was intended to inspire the hopes and dreams of a tribe lay with him and the hopes and dreams of a nation lay with his tribe.

[Gabriel Ferreira] Katherine attempts to shoot a look of warning to the male nagging his younger brother, but for the brief amount of time that the Cliath’s head is turned, he only spares her a few seconds of eye contact.

There is no challenge in it, but neither is there apology. Blood precludes property.

If Derek gets the impression that the Philodox isn’t used to the amount of Rage he has to carry with him, or that he just doesn’t care what sort of effect it has on the Kinfolk with whom he speaks, he wouldn’t be that far off. It seems unwieldy but nothing he can’t handle, like an extra weight slung across his shoulders. He isn’t a broad man, yet Gabriel looks as though his strength is belied by his build. It’s in the way he carries himself versus the muscle strapped to his bones.

“Not your job,” he says. “What it takes to do your job. Garou don’t know what to do with smart Kinfolk, man. They exist, but they’re so uncommon they’ve almost been classified as myths by now.”

He drains his glass.

“Plus, you don’t seem like you take a lot of shit.”

[Sinclair] The truth is, to some extent it makes her feel weak. Like when the moon wanes — as it will again, soon — and Lukas and Kate tend to flank her, subtly and thoughtlessly, as though they don’t even realize they’re doing it. But this is worse, because she’s not actually weak, she’s just drunk and she wants to tell Lukas he’s wrong, that she doesn’t give a fuck if she can’t be around Kinfolk — her own parents, even — for more than a few minutes, she’s over that, it’s fine, she left that behind after the solstice because she just gave up

but the truth is also this: she’s trying so hard not to give up, and now Asha’s dead too and she’s just getting so goddamned tired of being miserable.

It doesn’t mean that when Lukas and Sarita both end up hauling her up off the floor of the van and hugging her, one to either side, that she doesn’t just bawl that much more, suddenly renewed when a minute ago it looked like she was going to stop at the conclusion that alcohol can be blamed for just about anything.

Except her sadness, which is very real, and isn’t going away, and will not be reburied. And it’s not like she didn’t warn Sarita. It’s not like Lukas hasn’t been there, unaware for the longest time of what she was dealing with or how profoundly it had affected her.

In any case. The long and short of it is that in a van that smells like weed, she cries her stupid heart out until she starts wiping at her face and at least tonight she wasn’t wearing a ton of eye makeup so there’s that, but she reaches over and takes the joint from Lukas and says,

“I don’t even remember how to do this,” she says.

[Derek Anderson] He finished his champagne and smiled “I odn’t know how smart I am really. Doesn’t seem like it some times” He shook his head “And maybe I don’t take shit much either. I learned to stand ofr others and it made me able to stand for myself as well. I mean, I know my place and will be respectful, but I will talk back some if a true born lack respect toward me for no reasons

I has happened last week, will probably happen again. I”m not pretenting I”m on an even keel that you or any others. But I refuse to be treated like I’m totally inferior either. I jsut know what I can and can’t do and think tht despite the fact I’m not a true warrior of Gaia, but I”m still a person and deserve to be treated as such

Might sound pretentious, but I know my own worth”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Sinclair did warn Sarita. And that’s probably why she saw it coming. She doesn’t complain, doesn’t do anything except comfort her. That’s what Sinclair needs. Well, what she needs more specifically is to come back from the brink. But for now, Sarita is just here to comfort. So she does exactly that, silently and supportively.

She only pulls away when Sinclair is done, and even then only just.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] And Lukas laughs at that, gently. And gently, he takes that joint from Sinclair, holds it between thumb and forefinger, raising his eyebrows demonstratively.

“Like this,” he says. There’s an irony to this: the Shadow Lord in his fine threads, teaching the tattooed and pierced Glass Walker how to take a hit. But he does it anyway: fits the joint to his mouth, brow furrowing as he inhales

and passes it to her. A little choked, holding the smoke in, “See? Easy.”

[Adamidas] “Hey,” she says, once she gets a look at a window. They’re at a party, sure, but Adam’s a little tipsy. And the moon is so big… and bright… and pretty. And she just looks at it for the time being. She takes a few steps over and taps Alejandro with one of her arms. There’s a smile on her face, and it’s wonder whaen she looks at the moon.

Genuine wonder. Like she’s seeing it for the first time. It’s never been there before, so close. Like she could touch it if she tried.

“It’s a clear enough night,” she tells him, “the path will be bright enough, I think we can make it.”

She looks back at Luna. He’ll know what she means. She has faith.

[Gabriel Ferreira] Will wonders never cease: a Kinfolk speaks, at length, and the Garou doesn’t cut him off, doesn’t make faces or roll his eyes or seem as though he’d rather be balancing his checkbook or reading over his stock portfolio or whatever it is upper middle-class people do with their free time. Whether Derek is able to meet his gaze or not, Gabriel keeps watching him, right hand pocketed, left arm extended with the flute lazily dangling from his fingers.

“Yeah, well,” he says, glancing at his flute to reveal that yes, indeed, it is still empty, “piece of advice: stop giving a fuck if people find you pretentious. You spin it right, you’re confident. Confidence makes up for a lot, you know? You can be the dumbest mother fucker in the room but if you know what you’re doing and act like it, people respect that.”

He’s cut off; no more goddamn champagne.

“Here,” he says, and reaches for Derek’s likewise empty glass. “You leaving?”

[Sinclair] She’s no stranger to weed. But they’re more like distant acquaintances, struggling to remember one another’s name at a party. Oh right, you! Shit, man, how have you been? What you been up to?

Y’know, a little of this, a little of that.

She takes the hit, with a little bit of help to remember how to do this after a very, very long time. And she manages to get a nice long drag off of it, holds it longer than a virgin, finally exhales

and has a coughing fit. “Puddin’ and pie,” she responds, gravelly.

[Alejandro] He wanders over to the window beside Adam and he looks up at the moon that is just so close tonight. It’s right there, they’re both right here. He told her once that he has seen the moon from the other side, but there are so many sides he hasn’t seen it from. He hasn’t touched it and right now he just wants to crawl up inside it and just be.

She taps him on the arm, says those words.

“We can.” He agrees, without doubt. “We shall.” His hand takes hers, and —

woosh

They disappear.

[Derek Anderson] He nodded to the man and did meet his eyes. Nothing about Gabriel indicated that the Garou would take offense.

“I’ll consider your words Gabriel. It’s just that there’s a thin line betwen confidence and insolence sometime. I seen Kin coss it and seen true born having difficulties to make the distinction in kin behavior. Still you’re right. I’ll act how I see fit, the way I wasraised and if someone take slight of it, they can tell me about it or go over my head and seek Katherine.

Or they can be nasty and I”ll deal with it as it should be” He shrugh “Either way, I’ll know I wasn’t wrong. Hopefully”

Her grin slightly and let Gabriel take the empty glas “I think it’s time I should go. Seem like almsot everyone is gone anyway”He say looking around. Only Kahterine and the other guy were left beside Gabriel and him

“It was really nice meeting you Gabriel”

[Katherine Bellamonte] The Theurges vanish — nobody is surprised.

The Unbroken members are found together outside, huddled within a van — this is no shock.

Honor’s Compass does not, as her deed-name would suggest, deviate from her duties as hostess until every last one of her guests and hired waiting staff are long since departed, and in the latter’s sense, paid their due. She takes those precious gifts given to her inside her own bedroom and into her closet, pressing aside wall space to find her safe. They are put thus within, as important to the Half Moon as those things already within it.

Those those linger are welcome, food continues, as does drink until all are content.

Thomas aids Lucille and Katherine, in cleaning away dishes and glasses, the Adren gossiping with her maid as if she were still a child, and the elder woman her nearest notion of safety.

[Gabriel Ferreira] [Thanks for the scene, you maniacs!]

[Alejandro] [Thanks for the scene peeps!]

[Derek Anderson] (thank you all)

[Katherine Bellamonte] [thanks guys! :] ]

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [i’m out too! lukas is just gonna … like … pass out or something.]=

Ale, Alejandro

[Lukas] Air pressure suddenly bulges on their eardrums — the equilibrium of the building rapidly offset by someone phasing into reality somewhere. There are footsteps up above. Then Lukas descends from the third story, face taut, eyes glittering. It’s the first time anyone’s seen him since Asha’s Gathering. For some, it’s simply the first time they’ve seen him, period.

He looks at them a moment, nods voicelessly to the newcomers, and then turns out of the common area. A moment later Room 2’s door unlocks, opens, closes.

[Gabriel Ferreira] It’s a sign of self-preservation that the Cub watches the largest creature in the room as he moves. A few feet diverted and he would be going for her neck, perhaps, more likely her throat. As tends to occur, there is always, without fail, something larger and meaner and deadlier lurking beyond the limits of one’s sight; for right now, the taller of the males happens to be the largest, meanest, deadliest thing in the room.

Seeing that wince come across his brother’s face doesn’t make him let up immediately, but after a time, the larger male loosens his grip and rocks off of his haunches to stand at his full height. That’s about the time that someone steps across the Gauntlet, thumping down the stairwell with grief writ onto his face, splashed in his eyes. The Rage-heavy Philodox returns the nod, eyes downcast yet head aloft, and waits until he has left the room before he plants his hands on his hips and looks to Adara.

“Was she–” A jerked chin towards Jocelyn. “–in the Umbra with my brother for long?”

[Adara Mires] She frowned at Gabriel “Who Jocelyn? No, she hasn’t been there to best of my knowledge. She arrived a while before your brother did and she arrived through the entrance, the usual way” She look at him “She hasn’t seen your brother until he popped in”

She look at Joce “I asked you if you were ok girl. You’ve been terribly quiet.” She frowned and got up when she saw Lukas walking by without a word. She got up “Well people, you have jsut met Cold Victory Rhya, Shadow Lord Adren and Elder of the city. Now if you excuse me” She said to th Fangs and the cub “I might be back later”

She heaed into her room and changed into jeans and t-shirt. Meeting the Adren with sweats on and braless in a tank top wasn’t really her idea of being taken seriously. She stepped out of her room in jeans, t-shirt with a bra underneat and her feet were covered with socks.

She heaed to room 2 and gently knocked on the door “Lukas?”She say softly but loud enough to be heard “I don’t want to bother you, but I was wondering if I could have a few minutes of your time”

[Jocelyn Burkhard] She looks vaguely irritated. As irritated as she can, standing there all cute and vapid and wearing a kitty hat.

“I’m right here, you know. You shouldn’t talk about me like I’m not in the room.”

[Alejandro] “What?! I didn’t–” He’s cut off because Adara explains it far better than the boy sitting on the couch ever could. His eyes had followed the movements of the Shadow Lord through the common room, and he doesn’t exactly seem surprised when Adara tells them what his name is, what his rank is and position in the city.

“She’s right you know..” Alejandro muses, gaze drifting away from the door of room two where Adara seeks audience with the War Leader. “We shouldn’t ignore her just because she’s a cub Gabriel.”

[Gabriel Ferreira] He doesn’t whip toward her like a venomous snake, fangs bared and throat rattling: Gabriel turns his attention to her slowly, taking in her attire and her demeanor and her attitude and clenching his teeth, briefly, as he suggests what he sees. His brother is spared a brief glance to ensure that he’s going to stay put, or know where he is in the event that he does not stay put, and then the boy speaks up.

They shouldn’t ignore her because she’s a Cub.

“I ignored her,” he tells Gabriel, “because I thought she was suffering some sort of spirit world-induced madness. The noises she was making hardly qualified as speech.” Although he turns to regard Jocelyn now, he still speaks as though he’s solely addressing the other Cliath. “Now that it appears as though her tongue still works, maybe we can talk.”

He tugs at the end of his nose before planting his hands on his hips.

“You feel I disrespected you, asking another Garou if you were mentally present rather than asking you yourself… what did she call you? Jocelyn?”

[Lukas] Lukas is barely in his room a moment before there’s a knock on the door. He opens it — the tongue catching on the jamb, shuddering the wall. The Shadow Lord is half-dressed, his jeans on, his shirt and sweater off, a fresh wound bloody and red on his shoulder.

He quirks an eyebrow at her. Then he opens the door a little wider, nodding Adara in. “What’s on your mind?”

[Jocelyn Burkhard] He. Is mean.

She nods, the ears on the hat bobbing. Really, it’s probably most of the reason why she wears it.

“Uh huh. Joce. Full Moon Daughter of Fenris.”

Something about how she says it suggests that she may not be as dumb as she seems.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Almost, though not quite, an hour after the Adren Shadow Lord emerges from the third story there’s another pop; nudging of the two walls of reality apart so a pristine white wolf can dart through. She’s on the roof top of the Brotherhood in a moment; still licking her chops, shaking out her fur coat.

There’s a dim glow about it that is yet to fully fade; blood splatter on the tips of fur across her chest. The blue-eyed creature lifts a paw, snuffs at its nose and with a whine shifts forms until it is a crouching woman; lovely; blond; with a dab of blood on the tip of her nose. Katherine Bellamonte flexed, rolling muscles as if she’d been forced into an awkward box for several hours. The corner of her mouth had blood on it and with a fluid movement; the Silver Fang elder straightened and shook a handkerchief from a pocket.

It was dedicated.

She wiped her nose, mouth and shook back her hair. Then she pulled open the doors leading to the ceiling and began to descend them.

[Adara Mires] She watches him for a moment “Are you ok Rhya?”She ask eyes on the wound

“And when I said I needed your time, it doesn’t have to be right away. I know it’s pretty late so we can do that another time. I just wanted to set said time. I’ve spoken with Rain of Brass Petals and most of the defence strategy is set. I wanted your opinion before making it official.

Also since you’re here, I want to express my condoleances for your and your packmates’s loss. I never met Asha but the loss of any one of us is always a tragedy. Also the task you asked of me this weekend, has been compelted MOnday. I met with Hunter and Joey and told them a story that seemed to have helped them”

She was looking at him, not directly in the eyes mind you. Her tone polite, respectful, yet confident. He was imposing, he was powerful but she wasn’t quivering. She gave him simply the respect he deserved.

[Gabriel Ferreira] [Did AIM die? If so, Nomey, are you posting again? I’m waiting on you.]

[Alejandro] “Gabriel they’re really nice here.” He says to his brother with that tone of his that suggests he means a lot more than he’s saying. They’re of equal rank these two brothers, but it’s obvious that the Theurge is not an Alpha, doesn’t have the experience of hardships in his life to make him as such. His brain hasn’t even finished fully developing.

Eyes swivel to Jocelyn and he smiles at her again.

“We are both pleased to meet you.”

[Lukas] Almost as soon as Adara is in the room Lukas has turned away, sliding the top drawer of his dresser open. Effortlessly hard, that tug on the handle — the drawer bangs to the end of its track. He pulls out a box of squarecut gauze, some medical tape. As Adara asks if he’s all right, Lukas glances at her, a flick of pale blue. Laughs under his breath.

“Of course I am,” he says, almost dismissive. “This isn’t even worth a talen. It’ll be gone by this time tomorrow.”

There’s a stillness when Adara mentions his packmate: the Shadow Lord’s capable hands stilling on the box, the bandage, the scissors, the tape. Then he resumes smoothly, cutting out a piece of gauze large enough to fit the wound.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “It’s appreciated. Tell me the strategy you and Brass Petals came up with.”

[Jocelyn Burkhard] “He seems pleased.”

Her nose wrinkles a little, but she gives Alejandro another semi crooked grin.

[Gabriel Ferreira] Age doesn’t mean a great deal in comparison to rank. It’s a number, like anything else, but rank comes with it stories, tales, actions and histories that make up the entirety of a Garou’s experience here in the war. What makes Gabriel and Alejandro equal is not their age, but that they have attained the same rank. In some respects, it matters that Alejandro reached it faster, that he is closer to the next rank than his elder brother, yet in many, it does not. What matters in this instance is that Jocelyn has no rank.

Some Garou treat ‘Cub’ as a pejorative.

His equal, this stranger who shares his blood, tells him the people are really nice here, and he needn’t say any more. Gabriel takes a heavy breath, then reaches into the pocket of his dress shirt to extract a smart phone that his player knows too little about to describe in any detail. It tells time. He reads the time, then rolls his shoulders with a crackle and looks back to Jocelyn.

“I meant no disrespect,” he tells her, as though there is a gun to his head. “Forgive me.”

To his brother, he says, “I’m going to go find us a play to stay.” There is no point telling him to stay put, or text him when he leaves, so he doesn’t. Gabriel casts a glance toward the hallway, then tells the two of them, “Good night,” and starts towards the stairs.

[Gabriel Ferreira] [Thanks for the play, y’all!]

[Jocelyn Burkhard] “There’s another bed in my room”

What are you DOING?

[Adara Mires] She smiled softly to him “Well sometimes the wounds that look the most harmless ends up being the most painful or deepest” She say as she watches him cover his wound

“As for the strategy, Rain of Brass Petals with the help of one or two other Theurge will contact spirit and have a contract with them so they’ll watch the area and warn the occupants and also, the pack’s Alphas if something happens here. Why more than a Theurge, it’s simply if something happen to one of them, the contract will be valid with the remaining Theurges. So no spirits turning their back on us.

In this plane, things are trickier since enemies can pop in form everywhere. We could ward the place against unbral travelling but my sister was against it. So, the best thing we could do, is train the kin here in the use of firearms, Mister Roth has offered his help and it seem Miss Trujillo is organizing the citie’s kin, so maybe they will get more training from that organization. I will talk to her soon about that.

So, if something happens downstairs, everyone should come up, while those who can will delay the enemy. Fighting in stairs is hard so a good volley of bullets concetrated on the first ones in the stairs mgiht slwo them down enough for us to be ready and take them on as they emerge the stairs

Depending on how many of us there are. One or two should take hte kin away and out of a window, and stay with them to protect them. An open container with garbage bags filled with something soft, like foam should do the trick and not betray our exit point as stairs would. Once the kin are out, either we win, or strategically retreat if no reinforcements can come. If I”m present I’ll be the last one leaving,making sure no one is left behind

Why a retreat, because, even if I lvoe this place, better to regroup and take it back then die with no hope of winning. It’s an important place but I think it could be easilyl claimed back with some help form the packs.

If the attack happens upstairs, reverse strategy with people leaving in the back”

She pause and wait for his comments

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] And not very long at all after Katherine shows up, there’s a third… Oh god, don’t say pop. Say something else. You’re only using “pop” because that’s what the others used and you’re copying them. Am not. Plagiarist bastard. Fuck off. Blow me. Mom liked me better. …I hate you.

Anway, she comes out with a Seventy-Six Trombone Chorus! A POP, following making her way down the stairs. You’d think there was some kind of skylift to the roof that makes a Snake’s rattle! …a popping sound when it drops people off. She’s looking somewhat the worse for wear. She’s got a nasty scrape on her head and her clothes are vaguely torn, but the duster–oh, that ever-present duster, is popping? …no, it’s in fine shape. She gives a little look as she appears in the common room, taking stock of the three new faces as she comes in behind Katherine.

[Alejandro] “I will find you.” He offers to his brother cryptically with that smile of his and waves a hand. “Bye Gabriel!” After that he’s left alone in the common room with this cub, an adren loitering nearby in his room and a fury engaged in conversation with him.

“So..” He says awkwardly, places his hands in his lap and looks down at them for a brief moment– Wait, what? He blinks at Jocelyn, scratches at the back of his head and mumbles something of a nervous laugh.

“Oh no.. I think Gabriel shall find us suitable accommodation. Thank you for the offer though.”

[Jocelyn Burkhard] She looks instantly relieved. Really must get that filter checked.

Yet someone else magically appears in a fluff of smoke and pixie dust, and she watches the woman make her way through the room.

“They don’t seem very big on doors here.”

[Katherine Bellamonte] There are strange wolves in the common room.

This, on its own would be nothing to give Honor’s Compass pause on a normal occasion — there were always strange wolves in the Brotherhood, it was part of the charm in a very common way — except that two of them carried her blood and breeding. She pauses, almost long enough to allow Sarita, coming in behind her, smelling too like fresh battle and the remnants of whatever the Unbroken had been fighting, to collide into the Half Moon before with a fluid motion she steps out of the way and into the common room, proper.

Sarita and I made it back in one piece.

This for her Alpha; closeted away in his room, the whisper of totemic connection accompanied with what would, physically, be the nuzzling of one pack-mate in wolf form against another. Then, pale eyes are focusing in on Alejandro. He to her and she upon him, at least as far as vision and intention stray. “Bonne soir├ęe,” a pretty, genteel voice greets, hands tucking a stained piece of cloth back into a pocket.

Flashes of blood against fine white cotton.

“You,” a slow, measuring sweep, a tilt of the head. “Are very new, for I do not know your face, yet we share kinship.” The Cub, for a moment, is ignored not out of spite or some Werewolf politic, but degree of immediate concern.

[Lukas] “Mr. Roth,” Lukas comments, the scissors in his hand making a crisp schhik! as he snips off a length of bandage, “has an unhealthy distrust of the Trueborn that he tends to spread to the kin around him. If you’re going to trust him to train the other kin, at least keep an eye on him to make sure he isn’t secretly trying to convince them to stage some sort of uprising.”

Lukas covers the wound, then, and rips strips of medical tape to hold the temporary bandage in place. Gone by tomorrow, he’d said. It doesn’t need to be anything more than temporary.

“As for evacuating if we’re overwhelmed — that was always the plan, and it’s a good one. There’s nothing here that can’t be replaced or regained. We should have a plan to dump sensitive material, though. That bulletin board is full of contact info for our Garou and kin. At the very least, it needs to be torched if we need to bail. Every resident should be alerted to either take their sensitive information with them or pool them somewhere to be incinerated if we have to fall back.”

Welcome back, comes the totemic response. Couple of Fang-looking types out in the commons for you.

[Adara Mires] ‘She nod “I know very well about Mister Roth’s opinions and attitude. I mgiht be the only one of us he trust and that is barely. Ialso noticed some change in the peopel around him and I wonder if he has really strong influence or if weak willed kin are attracted to his presence. Either way, it’s not healthy for us and I’ll keep an eye on him. At least he has agree to share some of his training with me.

That said, if you hear or I do hear of anyother combat efficient kin who could train the others. I have no problems with that person working with Mister Roth or replacing him. The interests of the Nation before the individuals after all.

As ofr sensitive material, you’re right, I’ll include notes about that when I write up the plan.” She look at him “Is there anything more you’d liek ot add on the defenses or should I proceed with what we discussed?”

[Alejandro] He’s up out of his chair when Katherine enters the room, though his diminutive height and thin frame doesn’t exactly make him strike a very impressive figure. But that’s purely physical, there is something else about this Crescent moon. It’s in the shadow of his breeding, bringing to mind elemental spirits of varying types, as if they cling around him even in this realm. The fire is in his eyes and the wind is in his hair, his smile is cheery and excited.

“Honor’s Compass-Rhya” he knows her name, deed name even. The fact that he gives this instead of her socialite name might suggest he didn’t hear through other Garou. “I’m ever so pleased to meet you. My name is Alejandro Ferreira, Seeks the Horizon, Cliath Crescent Moon of Moon Lodge, House of Gleaming Eye. My brother and I just recently arrived. Oh dear, I hoped to have talens and gifts for you. I was going to draw you a picture.”

He smiles sheepishly then corrects himself.

“A map, I mean a map. Of the other side.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She pauses, just long enough to keep from colliding with the Philodox. She comes into the common right after Katherine. Alejandro, she doesn’t know. Jocelyn, she also doesn’t know. And there’s no one else in here. She takes a lean against the wall at the door for a second, and lets Katherine do the talking. Since she’s focusing on Alejandro, Sarita gives Jocelyn a little smile in greeting.

Holy Christ in a Handbasket to Hell. Why do I suddenly feel like an grizzled old crone and a veteran of the city?

[Jocelyn Burkhard] Because you’re old, bitch.

She nods/bobs to Sarita, otherwise staying quiet and observant.

[Lukas] “If I hear of any kin with good martial skills, I’ll send them along.” The firstaid paraphernalia gets put back into the top drawer of his dresser — not shoveled in wholesale as one might expect of an Ahroun but neatly placed. Then he shuts the drawer, opens the one beneath it, pulls out a t-shirt and tugs it on. Turning away from his dresser at last, Lukas tugs the shirt out from under his armpits as he continues, “Truth be told though, I think most of the combat-capable kin tend to get embittered. Maybe it’s because sooner or later it becomes clear that all the training they ever put in won’t ever put them on a Garou’s level. Or maybe it’s the embitterment that sets them to violent pursuits. I don’t know; it’s just speculation.

“Regardless, go ahead with your plans. They’re solid.” A pause. “You’ve done a good job, Adara. You and Adamidas. Pass my compliments on to her.”

[Katherine Bellamonte] Because, the Silver Fang responds without physically turning her attention from Alejandro. We are the grizzled old crones by comparison. Well, older, anyway. I moisturize too much to be grizzled. There also comes with Katherine’s words, the sweep of her amusement at the greeting the Cliath gives her.

Sarita and Lukas both knew their sister enjoyed the play acting of her tribe. There was something mildly hollow to her tonight, though. Her voice was a touch crisper, her eyes did not dance without a little determination to and her smiles, while sincere enough were tinged with a sadness at the corners.

Asha barely gone and here I am again

It’s barely a thought, but it brushes the Unbroken’s minds; the suggestion of their fallen sister’s face, some likeness pressed into their brains like flowers flattened in the pages of a book. There and gone, preserved but lifeless. “Your brother must be the back I saw slipping away down the stairs,” Katherine notes aloud, moving closer to inspect the Theurge. She, not the tallest creature at 5’9 but impressive regardless, lifts a finger and raises Alejandro’s chin lightly; turning his face one way and another as if regarding him for a fit.

“Hm,” she comments, and sits herself on the sectional, waving him to be comfortable. “It’s been some time since I met a Moon Lodge member, not since my last visit to the Court of King Calvin de Provence in Belgium.” A moment, Katherine’s fine teeth nip her lower lip thoughtfully. “Still, I am pleased to greet both you and your brother.” She allows a smile to take the edge of her mouth at mention of gifts.

“Do not worry about gifts, Seeks the Horizon. You do not need to ply me with tokens of good faith, I will judge on your actions and your manner of conduct, you and your brother, while you are here.”

[Adara Mires] She was watching Lukas “Maybe you’re right. I’ll do keep my eyes open around Mister Roth and make sure our kin stay respectful of us and don’t get the wrong ideas. I think that most wil lrealize things aren’t so bad if we do respect them back. After all we’re told to respect those of lesser status.”

She smile softly. She tohught kin were worthy of respect quite a bit, but the playon owrds usually worked on other Garou. Kin were of lesser status socially. They couldn’t hold ranks. So the law kinda forced true bors to respect them, evne if the reason wasn’t the best one. At least they had one

“And thank you Lukas, I”m just doing the duties I volunteered for. I will pass your words to Rain of Brass Petals”

She paused “And thank you for your time. I will leave you alone now”She offer him a bow and a smile as she turn to head toward the common room, waiting slightly if he has more to say.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] I’m New Mexican, she responds. Trust me, the more you moisturize there, the more you just look like someone tried to use shoe polish on an eighty-year-old armadillo.

The hoking, as toned down as Katherine’s play-acting, cuts off a moment when Katherine mentions Asha. It would have been easy to miss it since they were fairly close anyway, but there is a brief light touch to the Silver Fang’s arm. And then Katherine’s moved away and Sarita focuses her attention back on Jocelyn.

“Hola, chica.” A little grin. “S’up? I’m Sarita.”

[Alejandro] His chin gets lifted and there is no resistance, though his hands fidget where he holds them behind his back. Eyes look straight ahead, just like a good boy. It’s not until she waves him to be comfortable that he looks at her, a quick flicker of his eyes and then he relaxes. It’s carefully that he positions himself down on the sectional, hands once more being placed in his lap.

She doesn’t want his gifts and he makes a little oh face with his mouth before it clamps shut. She will judge them on their good deeds, he likes that. There’s even a little smile.

“I’m sure my brother will want to introduce himself properly, so I won’t do it for him. He has gone to find us somewhere to stay for the night.” There’s a short pause and his lips purse together, he seems to be fighting the urge to say something. It comes out anyway. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He looks down at his hands. “She was the first I heard about when I asked them.”

[Lukas] “With Roth,” Lukas remarks, “I’d settle for non-interference.”

He walks Adara to the door — all of two steps away. “Goodnight,” he bids her. When the door shuts behind her, it’s quiet. Lukas strips out of his jeans, changes into lounge pants, and drops down on his bed.

Over the totemphone there’s a quick blurt of amusement. Such things have been rare the last couple days. Ahrouns die — that’s their place, their duty — but the loss of a packmate, the first in years, still stings. You two are going to have to forgive me for not coming out and socializing, he sends to his sisters. I’m just going to hide in my room and read a book. And stalk the totemphone. How are the newbies, anyway, Kate?

[Jocelyn Burkhard] “Hi. I’m Joce.” She nods to Sarita, keeping half an eye on Alejandro.

[Adara Mires] “Goodnight” She reply to the Adren. She make her way back to the common room, noticing that Gabriel had left and was replaced by two lvoely ladies she had met on the same night: Sarita and Katherine. She stop nearby, offering them a warm, friendly smile “Good evening Sarita, Honor’s compass rhya”

Her tone had been polite ot both. She was of the same rank as Sarita and they actually have spoken to each other once or twice the night they cleansed Hunter. Kahterine, she jsut had been in her presence, so she got the respectful tilte coming with her rank.

She offered asmile to Joce and Alejandro as well, but didn’t say more, as it seem the Fangs were talking to each other.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Hermitize away, mi capitán.

“Nice to meet you, Joce.” She follows the Cub’s gaze to Alejandro, then back. “Been here long?” Hey, leave the Strider alone, she’s allowed to have been a bit unobservant. She’s been a busy gal.

[Jocelyn Burkhard] “A few days. I’ve been meeting people.” Because she’ll ask, right? EVERYBODY seems to want to ask.

[Katherine Bellamonte] The No Moon brushes the Silver Fang’s arm before she moves off, and Katherine turns back, briefly, sliding her fingers down the other female’s arm until she can briefly link their fingers; a touch and then gone. That is all it seems, outwardly. Katherine takes up her seat on the sofa, crossing her legs.

The picture of dignified ease.

One arm even slides across the back of the cushions, tangles into her mass of — tonight, at least — straight hair, a honey-gold shade, sun-kissed — she is looking across at Alejandro who, truth be told, strikes her as very young, in spirit perhaps not so much as in appearance. Small, and rather on the delicate side, as many Theurges tended toward, as if in exchange for wisdom they gave up the rights to physical mass.

You are not on Twitter, Wyrmbreaker. One wonders how Katherine Bellamonte knows of something as hip as Twitter, perhaps Sinclair showed her. You do not get to interact entirely via totem in 140 characters or less, if you wish to know, come and be miserable in public, like myself and Sarita.

Resolutely, the Fang turns back to the present. Adara, emerging from the very room she’s speaking with silently, is greeted with a slight turn of her head. Back to the Theurge, who gives her expressions of sympathy on her sister. There’s a flicker of real emotion in Katherine’s eyes, she frowns downward.

They all feel the strength of her pain; the way her flesh and blood sister is always in the background of it; the unknown, the panic she had shared with Martin. What if she’s dead, also? I would never know as I do Asha, Martin, I should never know! “Yes, it has been … very hard, for us. Doubly so, to lose a sister and a tribe member at once.” Her smile is brave, it fights back for its placement across her mouth.

“I look forward to meeting your brother.” A beat, she gestures for Sarita. “I am sorry, this is one of my sisters, Sarita Ecos de la Risa, Echoes of Laughter, Cliath No Moon of my pack, Unbroken. You may have seen my Alpha. Tall, dark, brooding shadow of a man.” That is fond humor, no doubt. “Shadow Lord, Adren. Also our War Leader.” Then, finally, Katherine’s eyes absorb Jocelyn.

“Welcome to you, too, Cub of Fenrir.”

[Jocelyn Burkhard] “It’s nice to meet you, Rhya.” Because Katherine looks like the Rhya type, really.

Nod. Ear bob.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Good to know,” she says with a bit of a smile, faint amusement, when Jocelyn said she’s been meeting people. “Lots of them around here. Where ya from?”

Is that what it is? I keep calling it Twatter. No wonder people keep looking at me funny.

She looks over at Alejandro when she gets introduced by Katherine. “S’up? Nice to meet you.” An amicable nod goes his way. “Welcome to Chi-Town.”

[Jocelyn Burkhard] “Lots of places.” Because, see, specifics get her kidnapped to churches. She’s learning!

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Oh. nice.” She gives Jocelyn a nod. “Girl after my own heart. Ever been down to New Mexico?”

[Jocelyn Burkhard] “Um. No?” She thinks, then shakes her head. “No”

[Alejandro] “It is a great burden, to be left behind. The spirits speak fondly of her” And it’s true, he does sound wiser than he looks. To get a real picture of the Theurge though one has to see him on the other side, dealing with spirits. Until then he’s just a kid, despite that something-other about him, despite his wisdom. “Your Alpha?” He raises an eyebrow and smiles. “Yes I saw him. He gave me a nod.” He seems quite pleased about that.

“Chi-town?” He speaks up after his lapse into Silence, eyes settling on Kate’s pack-mate. “Ohh, Chicago.” He grins, “very clever.” It seems genuine, he thinks that is clever.

[Jocelyn Burkhard] She giggles. She can’t help it. He’s just so damned cute.

[Lukas] Another burst of amusement across the totemlink. And maybe that’s deliberate on Sarita’s part — play the class clown, keep spirits up. It sure as hell isn’t the Ragabash being impervious to the pain: Lukas read it on her face the night it happened. He mulls on that a moment — they can feel his thoughts stirring in that direction, thoughtful, a dark warmth on the horizon. Then he comes back to them.

I think I heard you call it Twat once too. I have to admit, I deliberately kept my mouth shut because it was so much funnier to hear you talk about Twatting and reading Twats.

And no. I refuse. You can suffer in public. I have a book. I’ll just have to remain in the dark about the nature of your latest tribesmen.

[Katherine Bellamonte] The Philodox’s eyes flick over to the Cub, return to her tribesmate with a brief suggestion of mirth; her voice though, is quite serious. “I would like to hear about your plans in the city, Alejandro. You and your brother. Are you packed? Did you leave both leave one behind?

Also, I should lay out now that if you find the Brotherhood beneath your standards,” a beat, she smooths a palm over the worn cushion beside her with a slightly aristocratic turn of her countenance against it. “It is a fine establishment in general, but if you want comfort, or merely a place to take rest, my home, the Loft in Lakeview is always open to those of my tribe.

My maid, Lucille, is informed to admit any who come calling of our Kin. The house itself is also marked umbrally with our tribal glyphs for identification.” She rattles off an address, then, momentarily, seems distracted by some inward battle; her brows knit.

What are you reading, then, that is so terribly important that you ignore your own pack? Katherine, ever the dramatist, even in jest. Is it twenty-five ways to brood and be terribly mysterious? You have my tribesmate already mooning over you nodding at him. Nodding!. Honestly. You should come out here and dispel it at once, or else I’ll be forced to show him those pictures of you on my phone.

She nods at Sarita, then, her eyes twinkling with a little regained mirth.

Without warning, Katherine is then looking over the Cub: “Tell me, Jocelyn, was it, hm? Who is your Mentor?”

[Katherine Bellamonte] [*reverses ‘leave’ and ‘both’ around in that first paragraph*]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Too bad. You should go there some time. Fuckin’ beautiful country. S’where I grew up.”

Well gee, thanks. I see how it is, keep me hanging out there. Half the town’s gonna think I play for the other team at this point, and it’s not like I need the help keeping the guys away.

The tone, of course, is mock-offended but the humor is evident. It’s entirely possible–even probable–that the Strider is doing her damnedest to keep the amusement going. This is a time when it’s most needed and even when the Sarita’s had so much happen to her over the last couple of weeks–some of which she doesn’t even realize yet–she is determined to keep them going if she has to resort to taking God damned pies in the face.

It’s true. Kid was absolutely ecstatic. It was a little crazy. And it looks like she’s pulling out the phone now…uh-oh.

“Where did you grow up,” she asks Jocelyn, continuing the conversation.

[Jocelyn Burkhard] She sighs. Here it comes. “Georgia.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Oh yeah?” She nods. “That’s one place I’ve never been. Well, I passed through once, but didn’t stop on my way to Miami.”

[Adara Mires] She stayed there for a moment, barely acknowledged by the Silver Fang and not even by Sarita. She lsitened to them for a while, leaning against a wall. She watched Alejandro introducing himself ot his tribe’s elder and doing a pretty good job at it. Joce wasn’t doing as well but it wasn’t too bad.

She pass a hand through her hair. She had a few things to do tomorrow including writing down her plan for the BroHo’s defense, hopefully also finding some time to talk with Amy about her kin coalition and how it could help here. Well tomorrow she shall know. Or the day after, there was no hurry. She yawned slightly. Well she wasn’t needed or terribly wanted here. Better turn in for the night and hopfully the scent of a certain rotogar was still on her pillow.

“Well night all”She say, not expecting replies. She pause for a few seconds then head toward her room.

[Lukas] They’re just intimidated by your badassery and the fact that you’re — how do I put this without Kate getting Philodox on my ass — slightly attractive. Just sit around crowing about your conquests someday and it’ll set them right.

There’s a thump from behind the door of Room 2. Then that door opens, and Lukas reemerges, book in hand. It’s not, in fact, 25 ways to brood. The title is in Czech, though. Without much ado or commentary, the Shadow Lord nods to Adara as she bails, then drops down on the couch beside his packmates.

There. I’m out in the open. And aloud, “Hi. Disregard anything Kate might show you on her cell phone.”

[Jocelyn Burkhard] “It’s pretty nice….” She nods, the ears bob. While generally doing a good job of hiding her accent, now that the bag is catless there are faint traces that she can’t overcome.

[Alejandro] “No Pack..” He replies to her and his eyes drop away for a moment. “Gabriel had a pack but.. well it is no longer the case.” He scratches at the back of his head briefly. “I never had a pack.” Who on earth wants to be packed with the second coming of Jesus-The-Theurge?

Oh there’s the Shadow Lord again. Alejandro gives him a smile and a little spastic wave of his hand.

“Katherine just said I could stay at her loft.” He says to Lukas rather proudly. “I’m going to draw her a map of the umbra around it.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Night, Adara.” She nods to the Fury, smiling a bit, and then grins when Lukas comes out. “There he is….”

She nods to Jocelyn amicably. “Well, cool. Nice to have a Georgian here.” Okay, it’s not her wittiest. She’s off her game.

[Jocelyn Burkhard] She blinks at Sarita, the confused expression settling in again.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine, phoneless, beams as her Alpha emerges and somehow manages to appear at once angelically innocent and devious all at once as she cries out: “Oh, Lukas! You’re here. I had no idea. This is Alejandro, known as Seeks the Horizon, Cliath Theurge, he and his brother are newly arrived. He was just telling me — ” Here the Theurge makes his own intent, and Honor’s Compass lets him as Adara retires.

“Good night, Song of Life.”

Then, Jocelyn again. “No Mentor, then, yet? I am surprised.”

[Jocelyn Burkhard] “No, Rhya. Not yet.”

[Lukas] The Shadow Lord smiles a little at Alejandro’s proud declaration. The hour’s late, even for him: he looks a little tired. He looks relaxed in the presence of his packmates, even if he’s restraining the urge to noogie Kate in retaliation for her oh-so-innocent look.

“That could certainly come in handy,” he says to the young Fang, meaning it. “I’m Luk├í┼í,” he adds. “Called Wyrmbreaker, and Cold Victory. Ahroun Alpha, Shadow Lord Alpha, Unbroken Alpha. I didn’t catch your name earlier.”

[Adara Mires] She nodded to Lukas as he pass her by, smiling at the man. No need for goodnights, they were said earlier

She wiggled her fingers with a smile to Sarita and nodded politly to Katherine. She’ll have the chance ot get to know the two Unbroken later, she’s sure.

She entered her room and closed the door. Undressing, she made her way to her bed nad slid under the sheets, smelling her pillow. Smiling softly as it had retned the scent of her last night’s guest, she bury her face in it and shortly after, was sound asleep

[Adara Mires] (thanks for the scene all..have a good night/day)

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She gives Jocelyn an apologetic look. “I’m normally much funnier. I promise. Ask them.”

She nods her head in the direction of her packmates. “Unless they say I’m not. Then they don’t know what they’re talking about.” She grins. She’s good at grinning, it’s her natural state. She just has to let auto-pilot take over in that respect.

[Jocelyn Burkhard] She nods slowly, eyes big and flickering to the others.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine gestures at one of the only free sofas left for the Cub; she seems kind enough by intention, though her smile is at once becoming and unsettling. They are wolves, with some, rather than others, that point is harder to forget. “Tell me have any made offers, yet? Or are you still settling into things? I know the elder of your tribe in this city somewhat, she is a competent, knowledgeable Garou.

I am certain she will guide you well.”

[Jocelyn Burkhard] She is, pretty clearly, terrified of Kora. With good reason, maybe. Her eyes flicker to the sofa, then to Alejandro, then back to Katherine.

Sorry kid. You’re on your own.

“I’m settling in well, thank you. I should settle in for the night, though.” She gestures to the hall “Room four. Goodnight Rhyas. It was nice to meet you.” She nods in the general direction of each of them, slinking toward the hall slowly.

[Alejandro] “Oh..” Now he straightens up in his seat — if that were possible, he was already straight as an arrow — and raises his chin a little. “Alejandro Ferreira, Seeks the Horizon, Cliath Silver Fang Crescent Moon, Moon Lodge and House of the Gleaming Eye. Previously the student of Whispers in War, Adren Crescent Moon, Rites Mistress of the Sept of Mornings Vengeance. It is a pleasure to meet you Rhya.

He sucks in a breath then lets it out, eyes on the Shadow Lord.

[Lukas] “Room two,” Lukas offers to Jocelyn as the girl — the cub, apparently — takes her leave. “Goodnight.”

Attention goes back to Alejandro, then. He listens to the introduction, which is long, but not nearly so long as —

the name is a hole in his heart. Lukas wonders in a brief, searing flash what became of Thomas. What he would do now, now that he was no longer the herald to the princess of a failing line. One less in that family tree. One more leaf fallen.

Lukas’s hand comes briefly to his face, mops once as though he were fatigued, bleary-eyed. Then he summons up a smile for Alejandro. “Pleasure’s mine,” he says. “I’ve never met Whispers in War, but I’ve heard of her even as far as Stark Falls and Maelstrom.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Nice meeting you, Joce. See ya around.” She puts two fingers to her brow and flicks them outward as if in salute. Then she joins her packmates in looking at looks over at Alejandro as he introduces himself. Much like Lukas, there’s a flash of pain from the Ragabash. Her first (and only live) experience with Asha was her introduction via Thomas, and that is her strongest impression.

And thus, the grin fades for a moment. Just a moment, though. Dancing with tears in my eyes…isn’t that how the song goes?

[Jocelyn Burkhard] She’s there exactly as long as it takes to not be rude, then she flees to her room and locks the door.

[Alejandro] He relaxes somewhat when Lukas gives him that smile, like he just did what he was supposed to do and he did it proper just like his mother taught him. “She is a great Garou, I’m sure she would be honored to hear that her name has reached your ears.” His smile wanes, fades, he knows of Asha, already gave his condolences to the Lord’s pack-mate. Why then doesn’t he give his condolences again? Maybe it’s the fact that the Adren looks like he’s had enough of everything.

The Crescent Moon goes quiet and looks down at his hands in his lap.

“I heard talk of you from the spirits before I even reached Chicago. They told me I would fall here too, but that I would make a difference in doing so.”

A pause and he only looks at the others with brief glances, otherwise remaining eye-locked on his own hands.

“I do not know what to make of death, for none of us truly die. All will be seen again, like the full moon after an eclipse.”

[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine’s hand settles over her Alpha’s without hesitation, or motivation aside from what she gleans from his presence beside her and what it costs him to come out of his room. He is hurting, they all are. Death has finally, once again, collected from the Unbroken, and they are weakened by it.

She sets her hand over her Alpha’s, and links their fingers. It is as natural as breathing.

“Well said,” she accounts for, to Alejandro, with a brief smile. “We all wonder at it, when it calls and all we can do to combat it is be good, do good, and die looking exceedingly handsome.” A beat; she gleams at the room as only Honor’s Compass truly could.

[Lukas] Lukas — if he doesn’t look like he’s had enough of it all tonight, then at least he looks tired. Worn, if relaxed in the presence of his packmates. He’s leaning back into the sectional couch, slouched down in his usual place — feet apart, hands lax in his lap. His brow knits faintly as the young, too-young Theurge speaks of his own foretold death.

“You knew you would die here,” he says, thoughtful, “but you came here anyway? Why?”

[Alejandro] He’s already smiling at what Katherine had to say, eyes shining at his Tribal elder with humour and pride, but the smile becomes something else when Lukas speaks. The look he gives him makes the Theurge seem far older than he has any right to. It’s probably half the reason he has been without a pack, as he told Katherine earlier.

“Oh.. It seemed like an adventure.” A beat and then. “The Umbra called to me before I came here, it sought to swallow me whole and for a time I wished it to be so. But here..” A look between the Fostern and the Adren. “I believe their prophecy, in its entirety. Here I can make a difference.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] That little bit doesn’t seem to read well in Sarita’s head either. She furrows her brow, trying to comprehend it. Where Lukas is thoughtful, Sarita is bewildered. It’s like someone who is trying to grasp a language long-forgotten, and the words somehow register with her but she doesn’t grasp the meaning. It seemed like an adventure, he says. And she frowns.

Am I the only fuckin’ person for whom the idea of dying was never God damned romantic? Her tone across the pack link is incredulous. God, I ~am~ too old.

[Adamidas] Pop!

If there was anyone in the upstairs bathroom, they would be greeted by the sound of a theurge mid song. What she was doing is anyone’s guess. Or, rather, what she was going to do later was anyone’s guess. Really, the point is that Adam was in the umbra and the rest of what she was doing there is probably a you don’t want to know situation.

“-y started out in San-Fran-Cis-Co feelin’ mighty low and kind of mean-” she steps out into the hallway once she hits that word and begins to amble on in to the common room.

“Suddenly a voice said Go forth daddy, spread the… picture…”

there are people there.

She blinks. There’s chalk dust in her hair and her clothing smells faintly of smoke and burning metal.

[Lukas] There’s a wry nudge of humor over the link. When you no longer find it romantic, Lukas puts in, you’re ready for Fosternhood. Mentally, anyway. The spirits will probably disagree.

“Whether or not there’s a prophecy of doom hanging over your head,” Lukas replies aloud then, gently, “don’t chase your death too eagerly. You can make more of a difference alive than dead.”

On that note, the Shadow Lord gets up. He puts his hand on Sarita’s shoulder in passing; takes and squeezes Kate’s hand. “I’m off to bed,” he says. “Adamidas — I talked to Adara before you got here. You guys’ plan for the BroHo sounds good. I gave her the go-ahead.

“Night, everyone.”

[Alejandro] “I won’t!” He calls out to Lukas, probably a bit too eagerly, but such is the way of someone who is still effectively a child. “I mean I will! Alive, make more a difference. Yes. Good night Rhya–”

His eyes settle on the person that had just walked in, the young female who Lukas had just been talking to on his departure.

Rhya.” He says again, there are far too many Rhyas in this town. “You have chalk in your hair.” He says and it isn’t an insult, more like he’s pleased about this for some reason.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] The sound that comes across the pack link is sort of a snort, but it’s not foul-tempered. This time, it’s the Ahroun lifting the Ragabash’s spirits. Yeah, yeah. The mind is willing but the soul ain’t ready. Story of my life. Have a good night, Cap’n.

She smiles a bit when Lukas gets up and she nods to him and lets him go. Her attention turns to Adamidas and she gives her a wave. “Hola. How’s it shakin’?”

[Lukas] [thanks for the RP, all!!!]

[Adamidas] Adara talked to Lukas; the plan sounds good.
“Cool, keep an ear to the ground? We’ll keep you posted. Night!”

Of course they will. He lives here. He is going to hear about it.

There’s a lot of people in here, a lot of things and people to pay attention to. She looks from the large, somewhat statuesque Shadow Lord (because she’s starting to associate people with scupture. Men and women with things like stone with just as much personality. It’s a good thing).

There’s chalk in her hair, and the female blinks. She reaches up. She’s probably the second youngest person in the room and… this is rare. She looks at the male, stares, and grins a little. It’s fond, “yeah, I was.. yeah.”

She doesn’t explain. Back to sarita.

“And I am fabulous, what about you?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Been worse,” she says with a shrug. That vague answer is probably the shortest she’s given to that question, but she’s still smiling, so it can’t be that bad, right? Right. So she decrees it and as the trailer for that terrible remake of a Harryhausen classic goes, “DAMN. THE. GODS.” Along with a heavy thumping soundtrack and “Release the Kraken!”

There was a point there. It got lost somewhere. Oh, right…so she decrees it, so shall it be. She grins at the Theurge Elder. “So what’s got you so fabulous then?”

[Adamidas] [this is a willpower roll!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 9)

[Adamidas] DAMN. THE. GODS. Release the Kraken!
The sound Adam makes sounds very much like she’s choking on her snot, or coming very close to spitting something up. Of course, she’s not a spitting kind of girl, and she hasn’t eaten anything worth spitting up. Whatever her thought process was, it was reset by trying not to laugh and snort and other things to that effect.

[Alejandro] There is chalk in her hair, she’s reaching for it and grinning at him and he grins right back like he totally gets it. But she’s talking to Sarita.. he thinks that was her name.. he’s not sure now. Yes, Sarita, that was it. She’s packed with Kate. Who is packed with Lukas. Who talked to this girl.. who has chalk in her hair.

It all makes sense. He sits there and he doesn’t bristle with Rage, but he does seem different, primordial, like the core elements of nature are somehow part of him.

An outburst from the two of them startles the poor boy, but he’s grinning, all the way from his eyes. It’s that sort of humour someone has when they’re not really sure what is happening but it’s funny anyway.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She grins. “Seriously. Don’t EVER watch that movie. Not even the hotness of Sam Worthington makes it worth it.”

She chuckles and sits back. When all else fails, through out random pop culture references. People laugh, everyone smiles, you can join in.

“Seriously though, what’s gotcha in a good mood?”

[Adamidas] “Making progress with the tribute to Coatl. I think I’m getting the hang of this whole goldsmithing thing… which, by the way, do you know how hard it is to get gold? It’s a pain. It’s a pain, and.. ugh. I get that it’s dear to ‘im, but damn Sarita!”

A beat. And a bigger grin.

“And if you want hotness? Burn Notice.”

She heaves a sigh, and it’s overly dramatic and completely pleased. She looks at the sky like it was a gift from Gaia that Bruce Campbell exists. [because, let’s face it, it’s Bruce Campbell she’s squeeing over and not the guy who plays Michael Weston… sure… uh.. that’s it.]

[Alejandro] “Oh my god I hate metal work!” He blurts out and then suddenly goes red in the face. “I’m sorry. I am eavesdropping, why are you making a tribute to Coatl?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Okay, I’ll give you Burn Notice. Definitely.” She grins, leaning back. She’s about to ask about the tribute, but Alejandro does instead. Ooh, a couple of Theurges talking…this should be interesting.

[Adamidas] “Inorite?”

Alex blurts out and she replies. her eyebrows raise up and she half gestures out to the air. She still smells like burning metal and heat.

“I’m actually pretty excited, because first I was really frustrated with the terms of the challenge and the terms of our agreement-” she doesn’t elaborate yet, but her tone seems to hint that there is a a giant story that she is more than likely going to bombard them with eventually “-but working in gold is like mental preparation for being able to work in silver. So!”

She shrugs. She may as well have said that she was working with uranium so that, some day, she can work in plutonium.

“But I was taking part in a challenge once for a sept position, and th defender of the challenge set the challenge that we had to go approach a spirit of the challenger’s tribe’s brood. So! I had to deal with one of Uktena’s spirits and he had to go deal with one of Pegasus’. The only thing was, though, was that we weren’t allowed to actually negotiate with the spirit or ask anything of them or really do anything except tell the spirit “I’ll do what you want to gain your favor.” Which.. uh… ugh.”

She grunts.

“Long story short, I have to build a golden statue to a feathered serpent and give it virgin blood and BSD blood or else it’s going to bleed me dry. Coatl’s an angry, hungry thing.”

[Alejandro] [compulsion/curiosity!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Alejandro] He seems really excited. He sits forward on the edge of his seat and he stares at Adam. Really stares at her. His mouth is open in parts and more than once he looks at Sarita and grins with a You hear that? Can you believe that? Oh wow!

“That is fascinating,” he states, and it is genuine.

“I would love to watch you.” He blinks, colour rises in his cheeks. “I mean, I would love to see you work on this statue. I assume you must build it in its entirety by yourself?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[Okie folks, I just got hit with a wave of tired with a side order of falling alseep at my desk. ­čśŤ Sarita will sneak away while the Theurge are talking shrines. Thanks for the scene!]]
to Adamidas, Alejandro

[Adamidas] [[thanks for the scene, lovely! Get some rest!]]
to Alejandro, Sarita Ecos de la Risa

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, “Luk├í┼í, 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 Luk├í┼í,” 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.”

Coming In At The Tail End of the Wake

[Rory] She watches as he prepares the joint, green eyes following each movement, and how quickly he does it. Then he slides it over to her, and the bites her lower lip, anxiously. It takes a moment, and then she reaches out timidly for the lighter, the joint, as if expecting one or both of them to snatch it away and say that they were just kidding, ha ha ha the mule gets nothing… When they don’t, she peeks up through her curls, and offers a little smile.

She lifts the joint to her lips, and sets flame to the other end, lighting up. She exhales the first drag quickly, before taking a deeper one and holding. She passes it along, and manages only to cough a little bit. She’s been practicing somewhere…

[Quinn] Both women watch Hunter work, one more intently than the other. Resting her elbows on the bar, she leans forward and waits.

Rory gets to do the honors of lighting up and taking the first drag. When she only coughs a little, Quinn smiles. “See? You’ll be a pro in no time.” It’s her turn next. Like Hunter, this is something she’s practiced with, but was done more in her sordid youth than in her adult years. The last time she smoked was at Christmas.

The fact that it’s awakened makes her wary, though. She holds it a moment, looks at Hunter with brow raised. Then she shrugs. No guts, no glory. The drag she takes is shallow, has her brow tensing, and then she passes it next to Hunter. Blowing out the smoke, she says, “Whoaholy crap.”

[goin’ afk for a bit, post around me!]

[Hunter] The joint gets passed around. Rory does exceptionally well considering her previous claim that Howard had laughed at her coughing. There is no laughter from either the Fianna kinfolk or the BoneGnawer Ahroun. They are all friendly smiles and silent waiting for now, soon there will be laughter though. It can’t be helped. That’s half the fun in it.

Quinn takes the joint and looks at it sceptically, Hunter can’t blame her, this shit is rough as balls. But she’s a big girl and she takes her puff regardless, uttering a smoke filled whoaholy crap.

Hunter doesn’t hold the joint between index finger and thumb, he just holds it like a cigarette, like he has done this far too many times to warrant a unique style. It is lifted lazily to his lips and he sucks on it, puffs twice then blows out a cloud of smoke. His eyes close up into triangles and his lips curve into amusement.

“Forgot how fucked up this shit is,” he says once he has caught his breath. The joint gets passed on.

[Rory] They aren’t laughing at her. She smiles, softly, her head tucked to hide it behind her curls, as she reaches for to take the pass from Hunter again. She inhales deep, holds it, and exhales again, her eyes closing as she feels the awakened weed work it’s way through her system. She sighs contentedly, something very few people have ever heard, and passes it again.

While they take another toke, she reaches down to the guitar leaning against her hip, removing it from it’s case, and letting the cloth cover fall to the floor. She lays the guitar across her knee, and strums it lazily, pausing to tune the strings carefully, like this is the most precious thing she owns.

Because it is.

She’s not good – she only knows one song, really, though she practices long and hard at the five chords she knows. She has experimented in putting them together differently, and discovered to her shock, it sometimes sounds like the music that Ruarc left her on her ipod to learn from. She’s practiced till her fingers bled, and then practiced some more.

All for tonight. She glances up, to make sure she’s not offending anyone, and then bends her head again. This time when she starts to play, a very decently passable Danny Boy results.

[Hunter] The weed has gone circles now, twice, back to Hunter and he holds the little of what is left in the joint while he watches Rory tune her guitar. It’s mellowing, his head feels lazy and his gaze turns to Quinn as Rory begins to sing but there are no raised eyebrows, no questioning glance. He just looks at her and smiles then returns his attention to the bard for this evening.

He has heard the song before, once or twice. It’s not really his thing, or so he would have thought, but he enjoys it. Sitting in his stool with his back up against the bar and incidentally to Quinn though she stands more between them than directly behind the Gnawer. Occasionally he glances at her over his shoulder and when the joint is finished he licks his fingertips then puts it out before placing it on next to his drink.

His drink which never seems to empty.. every time he or the Metis begins to near the bottom of their glass, they miraculously find it refilled by the kinswoman.

He raises it in salute at the end of the song.

“To Howard!”

[Rory] She doesn’t sing. She plays. She can’t sing – or rather, she refuses to try, because she cannot get her words straight, and cannot correct it because she doesn’t hear the mistakes. She’s smiled at, but she doesn’t see it, concentrating instead on placing her fingers correctly, hitting the chords, and strumming with careful timing, and a delicate touch.

The last note lingers, and then Hunter toasts, and she smiles shyly, sadly, tears in her eyes. She doesn’t look up enough for them to be seen, instead reaching for her beer and lifting it in toast. “Howard.” The word is soft, but no less heartfelt, as she takes a drink.

[Quinn] Despite how carefully Quinn drags off the joint, her physiology being different from the Gnawer and especially the Fiann means it still hits her more strongly. She feels giddy and lightheaded first. It doesn’t stop her making sure that glasses remain full.

Rory retrieves her guitar, tunes it, and plays. She’s no expert, her skill comes from hard work and dedication before natural ability, but the song is lovely all the same. Leaning into the bar, Quinn smiles. When Hunter looks over his shoulder at her, her eyes are for the redhead, but they glance to him occasionally.

When Rory finishes, Quinn straightens, lifts her glass to join them in a toast. “Howard,” she echoes, and drinks.

Setting the glass down, she sighs, content. “Do you know any other songs, Rory?”

[Tabitha Reese] (Where are they?)

[Rory] [At the Winchester, all seated at the bar]

[Tabitha Reese] The Fury looks ill at ease as she makes her way into the building, moving to the side as soon as she enters in order to keep her back to a wall as she looks around the place slowly.

[Rory] She wrinkles her nose slightly, and takes another drink of her never emptied beer, and sets the mug carefully on the bartop again. “Lust jearning…”

But she does have a couple other songs that she can play passably well. Celtic in nature of course, because that is what Ruarc left her – an MP3 player with instructions and songs that she’s listened too near constantly since he left. It turns out that she has a pretty good ear, and can pick out other things as well. It’s amazing how many songs one can put together with five simple chords…

So she plays. She plays everything Ruarc taught her, everything she’s taught herself.

For Howard, she plays.
[…somewhere, he’s laughing at her…]

[Quinn] It’s difficult to enter The Winchester unnoticed on a normal night. Tonight, the bar is closed only to family, to remember and celebrate a fallen…brother? Friend? Heir of the Ruined Day was different things to different people. Regardless, they’re here to remember him.

So when the Black Fury enters, and tries to keep her back to the wall, she sidles over to the booths, and the bar’s owner, the pretty Fianna kinfolk behind the bar, smiles to her. Lifts a hand to invite her to join them at the bar. By now, she’s the only one left of the establishment’s employees still around. A glass is filled with beer, like it’s some sort of pre-established menu for the night (it is), and set before an empty bar stool.

“Hey,” she greets. Rory is still just learning, and Quin nods.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] The VW Bus pulls up outside the Winchester, Stephen Lynch’s “For the Ladies” cutting off only when the engine dies. The perpetually-grinning Strider–who tonight at least has the good sense to not be grinning while she attends a wake–slides out of the driver’s side and flicks the remnants of a joint away as she shuts the door. She comes around the van, looking the Winchester over as she approaches. There’s a bit of a smile but nothing more as she slips inside.

[Hunter] The toast is had, the brew is drunketh, and Hunter is high as a mutherfuckin’ kite. He shouts Howard’s name loudly in the toast and slams his empty vessel down upon the bar top. The tears aren’t missed, they just aren’t allowed.

“No crying here!” He says to Rory, then looks to Quinn, back to Rory, back to Quinn. “What are we gonna do about this? I think… yeah!.. you got another song Rory?”

And she does have another song. Excellent.

Hunter gets up to dance. Or what would be dancing if he didn’t spot another Garou wandering into the place. She is unknown.. wait.. no he knows her.. maybe.. He narrows green eyes on the Fury, squinting. It isn’t because he’s blind.. well it is sort of. Everything is a little blurry. “Hey!”

[Tabitha Reese] “Hey…” She looks Quinn over quickly, relaxing a fraction when she recognizes the girl from the gathering house. “Is this… I’m not sure if….” Her shoulders hunch a bit, hand jammed even harder into her pockets.

[Adamidas] No one knows where Adam comes from. Sometimes, people love each other very much. They do things. They have babies. Those babies become children like Alethea Adamidas.

Which means that children come from the depths of the umbra bringing god-knows-what with them. Today, she enters as she usually does.

With a loud pop and exiting the women’s room.

… It’s good to be Adam.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks around once she gets through the door, getting the lay of the land. She recognizes Tabitha of course, as well as Rory who she met the other night and Hunter. Quinn she knows only very vaguely, and Adamidas she doesn’t know at all. They all get little nods though, with smiles to those she’s met before she’s moving toward the bar.

[Quinn] More people are entering the bar, including, thankfully for Quinn, her redhaired bartender, Tom. The tall Fiann enters almost on Sarita’s heels, waves to Quinn.

“I forgot…are you high?” he asks, brow quirked, and he looks at Hunter, then Rory playing her guitar.

“Yes,” says the tall pretty Fianna kinswoman behind the bar. Quinn gathers up her belongings, shrugging into her coat as Tom heads back to grab something from behind the bar, as well. As she passes him, Quinn gives him a high five, which is actually more like a wrestler tagging in a teammate to deliver the finishing blow. “Close up for me, will you, hon? I’ll owe you so big.” Banter is exchanged, and Quinn leaves her bar, exiting out into the chilly winter night.

[sorry, guys, i’m falling asleep at the keyboard. Tom will be your bartender, info on The Winchester’s in my gallery. if you break anything i will find you! and i will wag a finger in your face menacingly! thanks for the RP and good night!]

[Rory] Hunter says no crying, and Rory does what Rory usually does – she blushes, and protests. “Not.”

Then she shrugs it off and plays what she knows while Hunter pretends to dance, but really eyes those that enter the bar. Quinn leaves, and Rory’s fingers soon fall still, having played everything she knows already. So she simply holds the guitar like it’s her only friend [..it is..] and drinks. Things are a bit fuzzy, thanks to all she’s partaken of tonight, but it doesn’t make her any more likely to speak when she doesn’t have too.

Though hunter is treated to one of her very rare smiles…

[Hunter] Quinn begins to leave, Hunter would be following her movements but he’s stuck looking at the new comers. Tabitha gets a once over, followed by Adam and Sarita.

“Sup ladies, Yo Adam! Hows my fav’ greek home-girl doin?”

But he catches flight of the Fianna kin disappearing from the bar and Hunter pauses to watch her leave. His gaze goes back to Rory just in time to catch that smile and he grins his own weed-induced one.

“Be right back, gotta’ check on somethin’!”

And he darts for the door.

[I gotta cook dinner!! might be back in a little bit!]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She raises an eyebrow as Quinn leaves and then Hunter soon after. A little shrug and she takes a seat at the bar, orders a couple tequila shots. One gets raised, held there for a moment as if in a salute and then downed. After the rim of the shotglass is placed against the bar, she finally speaks.

“Well, I showered today, so I know it’s not me.” It’s meant as a joke, obviously. Only a certain kind of person jokes at a wake. Sarita is that kind of person.

[Adamidas] Hunter gets a grin out of her. She’s too young to be in a bar, and everyone in the city knows it. Adam is no longer the youngest garou in the city, but she is the youngest Fostern. She is the youngest theurge in the city. She is also one of the most experienced. If we’re going to get too technical, Adam was also there when Howard. died. (didn’t do anything. Didn’t do enough. Alas, alas. Woe is us.) She grins and parks it at the bar. She crosses her legs, she straightens her spine, she smiles like she belongs and she smiles like she’s joyous.

Because, you know, she is.

“How’s the party been? C’mon, we should be doing something. Pissing off that pretty Fenrir or something else that’s Howard-appropriate.”

[Rory] Sarita has a seat, and Rory looks at her, shyly, and rolls a shoulder into a shrug. She always has that effect on people, so the fact that Quinn and Hunter have sat with her this evening is something of a minor miracle, and something she’ll cherish – though she’d never admit it aloud.

She pulls up the cloth case for her guitar though, and goes about putting it away, carefully. She sets it on the floor, leaning the neck against her hip as she reaches for her never ending beer.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Hey, I’m all sorts of game, chica.” She grins at Adam. She may have toned herself down a bit, but she’s still Sarita. “I just got here, after all. And you’re right, this place needs a bit of livening up.”

She downs the second shot and turns, leaning back against the bar. “So what’s the plan then?”

[Adamidas] “How did you guys know him?”

She asks. Her attention doesn’t waver, but she catches the posture that Rory has. her always, always shy demeanor. She notices that Sarita is gorgeous, that she is appealing and sexy and downright lovely in her own right. Adam looks at the bar and orders a shot. the bartender gives her a look

She orders a Shirley Temple instead. Doesn’t matter that she’s a Fostern, she’s still a damned kid.

“We need stories!

She says it as though Gaia herself commanded this.

[Rory] She waves off Tom when he goes to refill her drink again, and stands, tugging on her coat. She slings on her pack, and the guitar. She’s been here hours already, and her streets won’t patrol themselves. A shy look for those that recently arrived, and a wave of her fingers as she weaves her way through the tables toward the door.

A breath, a final goodbye, and she slips out into the night.

[night, ya’ll – it’s bedtime for lessa!]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She watches Rory go, giving her a little smile and nod, then looks to Adam. “First time I saw him, he was being helped out of the bathroom of the Brotherhood with his ass bleeding. Didn’t really talk to him much then though. That came at a coffee shop. Tabitha was there.”

She looks at Tabitha and grins a bit. Sarita’s sure Tabitha knows the day in question.

[Adamidas] “Tell me more,” she says, and she sits on top of the bar at this point. Her feet are ont he stool and her butt is planted firmly on the bar. the bartender doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, Adam takes a long drink off of her distinctly non-alcoholic beverage, and she’s grinning. She’s grinning like a child at story time.

“What was he doing at the Brotherhood? Did he get into a fight? Did he slip in the shower?”

She kicks her legs.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I don’t honestly know.” She chuckles and shrugs. “It was like, my second day being here. I showed up to explore the upstairs. All I know is that Quinn was in there, Patrick was in there, Hunter was and Bridget too. There were towels involved, some yelling, a yelp of pain, and they just walked on by and left like it was all perfectly normal.” She smiles, looking over at Adam.

“So yeah, my introduction to Howard. Which, of course, was an appropriate introduction.” Her head cocks. “How about you? I knew him all of two weeks. You’ve probably got some actual stories.”

[Adamidas] “I can’t say that I really knew him that well. I can’t say he was solid. I can’t say a lot of things except that I was where when he died. And he fought, and he did what he did well. Howard was Howard, and now he’s in his ancestral homelands and livin’ it up,” she takes another drink. She smiles. She seems at peace.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “And he’s a lucky bastard for that, in some ways.” She smiles a little and nods, getting another shot. “I guess I just appreciate what he did. Hell of a Ragabash, for a Theurge.” She pauses, downing the shot.

“And I mean that in the best possible way.”

[Adamidas] “To one of the best ragabashes the Fianna have seen,” she says. She raises her glass and grins wide.

She downs the drink.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She grins widely at that, getting yet another shot so she can join in. “Hear fuckin’ here.”

One more down the hatch, and she looks around with a sigh. “I always hate being the last to a party. But then, if I wasn’t irritated and amused, it wouldn’t be a good Howard wake, so it fits.”

[Adamidas] “Irritated or amused? Which is it?”

She’s grinning wide, and ever-so-curious tonight. She’s watching Sarita, she’s paying attention. She can’t look away just yet.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “What, you can’t be both?” She matches the Fury’s grin with one of her own. “I’m frequently irritated and amused at the same time, myself. Haven’t you been?”

A little cock of her head, as she puts the ball back in Adamidas’ court.

[Adamidas] “I’ve been a lot of things,” she says, “but usually? It’s hungry and tired. I’m pretty much like a cholicky baby.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Ahh, I see.” She chuckles. “You should try swaddling yourself. I heard that does wonders.”

[Adamidas] “Have you ever tried to swaddle yourself in anything? It’s difficult. Not only that, but you end up- okay. Swaddling is uncomfortable. And what if my butt itches, huh?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Well, that’s why you set up a Rube Goldberg-esque device with a button that you can press with your nose that will scratch your butt for you.”

She shrugs her shoulders, as if it’s an obvious answer. “Problem solved.”

[Adamidas] “Can you find me three frying pans, two eggs, a candle, and seven yards of twine?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Seriously?” She grins. “Chica, gimmie like a half-hour. Forty-five tops. I’ll even throw in a wooden spork and four mouse traps.”

The Owl Girl Meets The Mack Daddy and Others

[Adamidas]
Pop.

flush.

Water runs, then shuts off. The Black Fury walks out of the bathroom as though nothing ever happened.

[Hunter]
Hunter isn’t exactly a large man, but standing next to Howard Ivers he looks like a veritable wall. He could keep out Mongolian raiders if he wanted to. Whilst Howard is taller, Hunter is stocky, but they both have green eyes and they both smile far too often to be healthy.

“I think ya’ got’em mixed up a bit, this one’s the big mouth.”

[Howard]
One would think that that storm cloud moving over Remy’s features was the achromat’s version of a ray of sunlight bursting through the clouds the way the hipster breaks into a grin as he ambles over to the table. For someone who looks and oftentimes smells as though he doesn’t bathe with any regularity, who is rarely without some sort of burning herb in hand, he has well-cared-for teeth.

Where’s his bigmouthed packmate. The Fiann extends his right arm until his wrist pops out from beneath the sleeve of his leather jacket and consults the back of his wrist. There isn’t a watch there; he stares at it for a few seconds anyway, then returns his hand to his hip with something of a flourish.

“Probably writin’ a sad song on his guitar and havin’ himself a cry,” he says.

Hunter thinks he got them mixed up. Howard shakes his head.

“Nah… I’m the loudmouth. Very easy to mix up, especially if…” He turns to the table. “True story: I caught this fucker walkin’ around with two left shoes on the other day.”

[Tabitha Reese]
Tabitha laughs loudly all of a sudden, hand clasped over her mouth to stop it as she elbows Tala. “Stop!”

[Tala Whitedeer]
“I’m not doing anything. I’m sitting here, Tabby.” She shakes her head and sighs.

[Tabitha Reese]
“You’re a goddamned liar.” She elbows Tala again, then looks up to the two men. “Hey. How are ya?”

[Hunter]
“I only got one pair’a a shoes you simple fuck.” Hunter says, snatches out a chair from a nearby table and pushes it with the back facing towards their table. He straddles it with his elbows resting on it.

“I’m Hunter, and I’m good thanks.” He says, eyes flicking between the occupants of the table. “This fuck here,” and he throws a thumb over his shoulder and turns.

“Is Howard.” He saves the insults, Howard proves how much of a dumbass he is without any help.

[Tabitha Reese]
“Tabitha” She hides her hands in her pockets again, nodding to her packmate. “This is Tala. We’re new.”

[Tala Whitedeer]
“Hi.” She looks the two over, not bothering to conceal it as she sizes them up.

[Howard]
“And it sounds like you’re thinkin’ about one of us naked,” he says. He looks between Hunter and Remy, then jerks a thumb at the Fenrir. “It was him, wasn’t it?”

[Hunter]
“Well we know it wasn’t you Howard, that’s for sure.”

[Tabitha Reese]
“Maybe not so much naked as on fire.” She offers Remy another charming smile.

[Remy]
Now, all things considered, Remy’s been more or less easygoing tonight. Sure, he laid down the law so far as his kin was concerned. Sure, he turned around and smacked said kin upside the head. Sure, he seems to have no social graces whatsoever, or at least pretends that’s the case — but the teasing between Fenrir and Fury tonight has, on the whole, been of the friendly-ribbing sort.

That sort of changes when Howard and his big buddy approach. Something in the young Fenrir’s face tightens down. He sits back in his chair, a sort of exaggerated and deliberate broadening out of his physical presence that claims the air around him, the space around his feet.

“Why don’t you two jokers quit pretending we’re friends and take your comedy show on the road,” he says. “If the bulldykes here want to join you that’s their call. But I got here first and I don’t much want to eat my sandwich looking at your pipsqueak faces.”

[Howard]
“‘Bull… dy…'”

Howard turns to Hunter and drops into a crouch rather than sitting. When he speaks, it’s in an exaggerated stage whisper.

“I don’t speak Ignorant Twat, what’s a bulldyke?”

[Tabitha Reese]
“Oh for fuck’s sake. We are NOT fucking.”

[Remy]
“It’s a woman that doesn’t want to fuck you on principle,” Remy replies instantly, almost lazily, “and not just because your face looks like a kicked-in pile of horse shit. You noisy little cunt. Get lost.”

[Howard]
“Alright, alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist, Prettyboy,” he says, holding up a hand in a lopsided Don’t shoot gesture.

[Hunter]
Hunter is amused, he really is amused. He might not be so amused if the two females he is calling bulldykes weren’t Garou. They can take care of themselves. Hunter would like to see Remy call Joey Oliver a bulldyke. As it stands he is trying his best but then Howard has to go and be Howard, and it comes out.

“pffffffftttttttttt.” Air escaping as he laughs with a look of Oh shit on his face.

“Didn’t ya’ say he don’t like that Howard?”

[Remy]
Remy’s eyebrows hop up on his forehead. Then he pops down the last of his sandwich — and might we add that even with a mouth full of half-chewed food, through which he lets out one of the fouler belches of the century, he’s still pretty enough to turn the heads of two college girls across the room — and dusts his hands off.

“Okay, pipsqueak,” he says, food-muffled. “You asked for it.”

[inits!]

[Izzy Montoya]
Speaking of noisy little cunts… [Ok, not really, but it seemed like a good enough line to steal.]

The door opens, as doors do when nudged from one side or the other, and she stalks in like she owns the joint. She doesn’t, of course. She walks into most places like that – it’s all in the attitude. She pulls off her gloves and stalks to the counter, and orders her coffee – hot and black, just like she likes her… well. Coffee.

Her features are strong, her breeding pure, her blood that of Viking Heroes. Her hair dark and longish, her eyes dark, her smile non-existent. She is lean – and by the looks of the bags under her eyes that have luggage of their own – exhausted.

[Howard]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9
Oops.

“Oh, shit,” he intones, trying not to laugh even in the face of an impending ass-kicking. Even though he’s several inches taller than Remy, the term ‘pipsqueak’ isn’t entirely a misnomer: the Fenrir has somewhere in the neighborhood of seventy pounds on the Fiann, and it’s all muscle. Thrusting the coffee into Hunter’s possession, Howard says, “TellPatrickIlovehim” and turns to run.

[+7!]

[Adamidas]
This is where a Fostern should really… really… really give some semblance of a shit about what was going on. She steps way from the bathroom door, and the corner with all the banter and one very Attractive Rage-o-holic draws her attention. She is the spiritual equivalent of jet lagged. Her head is swimming, and her eyes come in to focus just in time to see a fight break out.

Her hands go to her hips. Attire is comfortable. Jeans with holes (air conditioning she insists), tights (because it’s still developmentally appropriate for her to believe that tights with jeans are cool) and a hooded sweatshirt. The Fury carries a messenger bag with her. She shrugs her shoulders and wanderes towards the fray.

Literally, wanders, like the budding fight was more like finding a sale on bonbons.

[Remy]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3 (Failure at target 6)
[+7!]

[Patrick]
Of course, this would be the moment that Patrick, Howard’s long suffering Galliard decides to grace the Cafe with his presence. Prayers to Broken Stone, a broad-shouldered kid with a head of sandy hair and brows to match; coupled with impossibly blue eyes was what most referred to as the quiet side of Caldera.

Put him beside Howard, and he was all but a mime. His conversation often little more than well timed shrugs or gesturing on one front or another. Presently, he’s wearing his work attire — that being dark blue coveralls and his battered leather jacket atop them. There are black fingerless gloves on his hands, and he’s crossing the street toward the Cafe in question when he sees Howard, shooting out the door.

His eyebrows rise.

He watches, then flicks them toward his pursuer.

[Remy]
[last call for inits! i’ma go review another section of my manuscript, and if there are no other inits when i get back i’ma declare.]

[Patrick]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9
[Oh, why not! TUSSLE! +6]

[Tala Whitedeer]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Tabitha Reese]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Tala Whitedeer]
((+6))

[Tabitha Reese]
(+7)

[Remy]
[1. yell BOO! as Howard streaks out the door, sit back down.]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She’s whistling just for the sake of whistling as she makes her way down the street in the general direction of the Cafe, walking at an unhurried pace. She’s got a hand-rolled cigarette out one corner of her mouth, and she pauses once she crosses at an intersection to light it before continuing on.

[Patrick]
[1. Look disgusted with Remy
2. Lean against wall, James Dean style, and smoke a cigarette.]

[Howard]
[1a: realize Remy’s not chasing him
1b: wander back inside]

[Tala Whitedeer]
((grab a fork. Hold said fork in deathgrip))

[Tabitha Reese]
(Trip Howard as he attempts to flee)

[Remy]
[ok, i’ma wait to see outcome of the trip and then probably just go back IC *LOL*]

[Tabitha Reese]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)
(Rolling for the trip!)

[Howard]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 1, 3 (Failure at target 6) [WP]
[Athletics+Dexterity: GO GO HIPSTER BOOTS]

[Remy]
“OOGLABOOGLABOO!” Remy yells — nay, roars — as Howard turns to run. Heads turn all around the room, and not just because Remy is fucking hot. The ‘pipsqueak’ streaks toward the door. Tabitha sticks out her foot. Howard goes sprawling. Neighboring tables gasp in alarm. Are you okay?! someone wants to know.

Remy picks his toppled chair back up off the ground, sits again, uses the pad of his thumb to pick up a few crumbs of his sandwich. “Dumbass,” he comments, and reaches across the table to high-five Tabitha.

[Tabitha Reese]
She returns the high five, settling back in her seat and gently prying the fork out of Tala’s hand.

[Izzy Montoya]
Her coffee arrives as one is running off. There’s a tension about her lower back, dancing up her spine, as she turns her head enough to track what’s going on. Only when everyone stands down – for now – does she turn to wrap her fingers around the cup, and move to the side so others can order as needed. She tucks her gloves into her pocket, then lifts her cup to take a swallow that’s far to big for how hot the coffee is. She makes a face, a slight grimace, as the hot liquid burns over her tongue.

[Howard]
He wipes out in spectacular fashion, nearly taking out one of the table’s neighbors as he crashes into the floor, and a normal person would be pissed off, Rage flaring from embarrassment or pain or any other strong emotion that comes from being tripped while in the act of running from a man who looks like an underwear model.

Howard doesn’t yell, or strike back at the bulldyke, or fire back when Remy calls him a dumbass. Granted, he loses his sunglasses, so all he can do for several seconds is squint, but he doesn’t start fumbling for them. He flops onto his back and starts laughing.

“Oh Jesus,” he announces, laughter dying down, then points where he thinks Tabitha is supposed to be; his finger ends up aimed somewhere around her navel. “Y’know, you ought to be careful, in some cultures that’s considered foreplay.”

[Tala Whitedeer]
Prying the fork loose is easier said than done, but Tabitha IS stronger, so with a small whine of protest, off it goes.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She exhales a drag of smoke and goes back to her whistling, the shrill tones of “Twisted Nerve,” as the cafe grabs her attention. With a shrug, she directs her steps toward it, stubbing the cigarette out just outside. Someone could use a coffee.

[Adamidas]
She looks at the pile of people. The Fenrir, who puffed up all nice aand big, the Fianna who started to run, then was tripped… and then faceplanted. She inhales slowly, and a little more deeply than she realizes. The younger Fury clenches her jaw, and heads over. There’s high fiving. Then laughing. Her jaw unclenches. She shrugs, and heads for the door.

“Hey,” she says to Patrick on the way out, “I don’t think you can smoke in here.”

[Tabitha Reese]
She’s about to answer Howard when the dark haired woman matching the description she was given captures her attention. Now her, she’d go bulldyke for. Getting up quickly, she pats Tala’s shoulder and makes her way over to Alethea.

[Patrick]
(Patrick is still outside! He’ll stay there til I return with dinner in a min!)

[Tala Whitedeer]
“Where are you going?” She seems alarmed suddenly.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She glances at Patrick as she slips in the door, recognizing him from the other night in the hallway of crowded bathrooms, towels and such that she’d stumbled upon. She gives him a nod and a wink as she slips inside, glancing around on her way toward the counter.

[Remy]
“You know,” Remy says to Tabitha and Tala, “you two aren’t half bad. I’m staying at the Brotherhood. You should look me up sometime. Like if you want to go hunting or something.”

On that note, he finishes picking crumbs off his plate and cocks his eyebrows at Drew. “I’m taking off, girl. You want me to walk you to your car so you can drive me to my boardinghouse?”

[Tabitha Reese]
“I’ll be right back. No stabbing anyone.”

She nods to Remy “We’ll do that.” Then she’s off to catch up with the other Fury.

[Adamidas]
(ohshit! Sorry, delete last line!)

[Tala Whitedeer]
“Bye.” She nods curtly at Remy, then looks over at Tabby, watching her go with a look of growing displeasure.

[Drew Roscoe]
Drew spent the whole of this ruckus just leaned back in her chair, watching the goings-on while looking like she couldn’t be bothered to be upset or anxious about it anymore. The potential of a scuffle is left with a roar of ‘ooga booga’ to chase the curly-haired Fianna away, who winds up tripping over Tabitha’s foot and crashing into some chairs and a table. The people who work are arguing near the end of the counter about whether they should kick them out, leave them, or call the cops and claim someone’s disturbing the peace.

Her coffee’s empty for the most part, cooled off enough that it’s not as enjoyable anymore, when Remy finishes the crumbs from his sandwich and, in a roundabout way that made it sound like he would be helping her, asked for a ride back to The Brotherhood of Thieves. Drew took a last drink of her mug, set it on the table, and stood up. “Alright.”

He keeps calling her Girl and she doesn’t correct him. Just goes ahead and pulls her dark blue winter coat on, buttons it up to her collar bone, and makes a beeline for the door.

[Howard]
Hunter has performed one of his disappearing acts or is eating paper napkins or something equally constructive, leaving Howard to either fumble around for his sunglasses for another two minutes until he finds them or do what he ends up doing, which is abandoning them in favor of attempting to grope his way from the floor to a chair. In order to pursue Alethea, Tabitha has to step over or around the prone Fiann; that doesn’t seem to be an impediment, and he doesn’t take the opportunity to trip her as she does so.

He lies still a moment, blinking so slowly he ends up squeezing his eyes shut a few times, then sits up. His hand finds the chair Tabitha vacated, and he clumsily–silently–picks himself off the floor and sits his skinny ass down. When his eyes, a shade of green similar to Hunter’s, move around it isn’t with the same sharpness and precision that the rest of the patrons’ do: they don’t focus on anything, and his brow is furrowed.

Slowly, it dawns on him that someone’s still here.

“I think she fancies me,” he says, and folds his hands on the table.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She pauses a second in her walk as she sees Howard on the floor, recognizing him from that other night as well. She opens her mouth as if to ask why he’s on the floor, then looks to the table everyone’s at before shrugging it off with apparent acceptance. On her way to get her coffee she goes.

[Remy]
It wasn’t a very subtle way to ask for a ride, but Remy looks downright delighted when he actually scores one. The resultant grin makes at least one of the arguing baristas lose her train of thought. Remy buttons back up in his winter coat, his scarf and hat and gloves, and pretty soon there’s just that little sliver of face showing again.

“Okay,” he mumbles through his buttoned collar. “I’m good. Let’s go.”

[Tala Whitedeer]
She looks over at Howard, blinking slowly. “What?”

[Patrick]
All the while the Fianna Galliard has been outside, foot propped against the wall; smoking like a wannabe rebel. He’s flicking it away when the Fenrir appears, exiting with his ride. “Well hello, gorgeous.” Patrick drawls, for no real reason and cants the man a salute.

[Tabitha Reese]
She stops herself just short of grabbing Alethea’s arm, settling instead for brushing her fingers on the other woman’s arm to get her attention and clearing her throat.

[Drew Roscoe]
Remy was good to go, and at this point the mayhem in the coffee shop had driven up the little Kinfolk’s blood pressure to the point that she was barely paying mind to anyone else. Family first and that was all, if he wasn’t a Fenrir she would have hit the pavement long ago. She only just notices Izzy as she’s holding the door open and waiting for Remy to catch up, and the detective Kin gets a long stare before a nod of acknowledgment. No warm smiles, no waves, no ‘Hey Izzy!’, just the nod.

Once Remy’s caught up, Drew’s stepping outside along with him…..

…right into the face of another show of provocation. Drew looked up at Patrick, some guy she’s never seen or met before, calling him ‘gorgeous’. While this was a truth there was no point in denying, it had caused him to snap at the Black Fury, then charge the Fianna to scare him off. Drew was giving him a ride, she wanted to get her ass back home, have a drink or two to calm the nerves, and go to sleep so she could get her ducks in a row for her interview on Monday.

So she breaks her act of ‘good, quiet kin’ and jams a finger at Patrick. Everyone has a last straw, and the number of them wane as the hours tick by. “You. Smug guy. Shut the hell up and let us go home. Your pals are in there waiting up for you.” That finger retracts so she can jerk her thumb toward the cafe door.

[Adamidas]
She stops and turns around. Someone touches her arm, and she looks up. Her lips upturn, and something about her seems… distinctly more grounded than Tabitha remembered. She is also, simultaneously, less there than she was when they first met. She perks up-

“Oh! Hey!”

[Tabitha Reese]
“Hey.” She smiles, looking relieved. “I was going to call you. To let you know we’re here. How are you?” She’s babbling, gesturing too much with her hands as she talks.

[Howard]
“What?”

When he turns his head towards Tala, his eyes land in the general direction her voice came from. They aren’t bloodshot or red, nor are they marred by bruising or scars; there is no discernible reason why it’s dark out and he arrived wearing sunglasses. There are some bizarre females out there who claim this young man is attractive, that he has pretty eyes or the whole skinny mop-haired asshole thing is a turn-on, but none of those bizarre females exist on this side of the fourth wall so the ones left standing shall be spared.

“Which one are you?”

[Tala Whitedeer]
“Which one am I what?” She looks confused.

[Izzy Montoya]
Izzy takes a seat at an empty table, setting her cup down and rubbing her fingers together to warm them. Drew notices her, and gives a long look, which Izzy simply returns. She arches a brow, slightly, just as Drew nods, and turns to go outside.

Izzy, likewise doesn’t call out, doesn’t smile, doesn’t wave. And she likes it that way just fine.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She gets her coffee, paying with a grin, and turns around to look over the room once more. She considers for a moment before heading over to the big, occupied table and nodding at Howard. “I remember you. How’s your ass?”

[Adamidas]
She doesn’t say anything, she just hugs the other Fury and holds on like she might fall apart and float away just by being there. She is warm, and she is surprisingly solid for being… well… being her. It’s a little known, less cared about fact that Alethea Adamidas has a heavier build than her height suggests. Even with the apparent weight loss, she’s solid.

“Where are you staying?” her voice is muffled.

[Remy]
Another night — the night Patrick called him a Silver Fang, for example — and Remy might have flown into a fury. Tonight’s a pretty good night, though. He traded jabs with a Black Fury that gave as good as she got and miraculously didn’t get pissed; he scared Patrick’s loudmouth alpha off; he watched said Black fury trip said loudmouth alpha on his way out. Good night. Good happenings.

So there’s no frothing at the mouth. There’s no sudden lunge for the throat. There’s just a smirk that widens when Drew gives Patrick the one-finger salute.

“Aw, don’t be jealous,” Remy says, slinging his arm unapologetically around Drew and hugging her against a side that feels as solid as a slab of beef. “Charming fella like yourself, I’m sure you’ll find some company tonight.

“Better stay off this one though. Don’t think you can handle her kind of fire, Stag-boy.”

[Patrick]
He ignores the finger, breathing smoke out his nostrils as he straightens. His bright eyes consider Drew for a beat, and he glances back at Remy. “I like her,” he notes as mildly as if he’d been commenting on a new car, already turning his shoulders toward the Cafe door.

“She’s almost got the mouth of a Fianna.”

He pulls open the door, turning with his back to it to raise both eyebrows at the pair of Fenrir. “Have a good one.”

[Howard]
He sits in furrow-browed thought for a grand total of two seconds, which is something of a record between Howard being asked a question and Howard spitting out an incendiary response. When he comes up with it, he snaps his fingers in an unspoken I got it.

“No, wait, you’re not the one with the–”

At which point Sarita arrives at the table. Its occupancy has dwindled significantly; only the Uktena and the Fiann are left, now, and the Fiann doesn’t appear startled or anxious that someone whose voice he’s never heard has wandered up asking him about his ass.

“I don’t remember you,” he says, without missing a beat. “What’d you do to my ass?”

[Tabitha Reese]
She hugs the other Fury back tightly, looking considerably more settled now. “It’s good to see you. We’re just in motel rooms for the moment. Come meet Tala”

[Tala Whitedeer]
Another unidentified person, and she’s definitely looking overwhelmed. Not quite shutting down, but getting there .

[Adamidas]
“But-” she says “-I have to go. There aren’t a lot of- I’m needed on the other side.”

Because when is a theurge ever not needed on the other side.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“It’s grandfathered into Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. Next time, spend a lifetime building an immunity to iocane powder, or as I like to call it, Rohypnol.” She looks over at Tala and does the upward chin tilt can be construed as a greeting. “Hola.”

[Tabitha Reese]
“Oh…” She nods. “Right, of course. I”m sorry. Some other time.”

[Drew Roscoe]
Remy’s arm is tossed about her waist and draws her in against his side with no hint of shame or apology in the gesture. On another night he’d feel her shoulders hunch up uncomfortably and her muscles go tense. In another setting being hugged into so handsome a man’s side with his hand at her waist, hip, belly… anywhere in that area, that might coax a blush.

Tonight she just looks like she just figured out that the candles on her birthday cake were trick ones. Her frown is less aggressive and more annoyed, the hand that she was gesturing at the Fianna (she gets that from Remy calling him ‘Stag-boy’) drops to her side, and she just stands loose-limbed against the Godi’s side and stares up the street while Patrick compliments Remy by saying he liked her, wishes them a good night, and heads inside. One can only guess that Drew’s counting from ten backwards in her head.

A tick of the second hand passes on the clock inside the cafe, and Drew reaches into her pockets to tug on her white mittens, but doesn’t jerk her shoulder into his side or try and wrench out from under his arm. “Truck’s up the road. You’ll have to nevermind the plastic.”

[Adamidas]
She gives Tabitha a quick squeeze.

“I’ll come find you,” she tells her.

[Tala Whitedeer]
“Hi. Hello.” she nods at Sarita as well, definitely tense.

[Howard]
“Oh, hey, look at that, startin’ off with a date rape joke!” He lifts two thumbs to indicate his approval, sarcastic as it is, then indicates where he thinks a chair might maybe be with his finger. “You’ll fit right in.”

[Tabitha Reese]
“Alright.” She nods, kissing the Fury on both cheeks before leaving the Theurge to her work and scooting back to her table and the increasingly panicked Tala.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“Hey, I like putting by best foot forward. Wherever that may put it.” She grins and takes a seat, at least nice enough to not sit too close to the timid one. “I’m Sarita. Saw you during the thing with the limping and the bathroom and all that shit. It’s understandable you may not have seen me. You were focused on something else.”

[Tala Whitedeer]
“Who was that?” She snaps at Tabitha, bristling for some reason known only to her.

[Tabitha Reese]
“That was the one that I told you about.” She resists the urge to dump Howard out of her old seat, taking the one vacated by Remy instead.

[Tala Whitedeer]
“Oh.”

[Howard]
“Love,” he says, sitting back with a sigh, “you’ve no idea how many days of the week you managed to describe with the words ‘limpin” and ‘bathroom.'”

His attention jumps the tracks with a speed that is enough to induce whiplash in the unconditioned.

“You seen a light-eyed fella with skin like mashed potato and a–”

Who was that?

“Jesus!” Howard says, as though she’s startled him. When Tabitha returns she’ll note that the young man, whose tribe does not announce itself in his blood and whose Rage is so scant it is barely noticed by even the most weak-willed of humans, is sans sunglasses; his expression is focused but his eyes are vacant, as though he’s staring into fog and can’t see a damned thing.

[Remy]
To be fair, Remy lets Drew go pretty much as soon as ‘Stag-boy’ goes in. He tugs his hat a little lower over his forehead, obscuring even his eyebrows now. Must not be from so cold a climate. God knows where he’s from — for all that easy american slang, there are sometimes hints and glimmers of muddled, myriad accents in his voice.

“Sorry about that,” he explains. “That jackass called me a Silver Fang the last time we met and then got lucky enough to win the fight.” He doesn’t even bother to explain why there was a fight. Or what it was about. It’s obvious in his mind. At least he’s honest about losing, though, shameful as it is. “That was his Alpha in there that the Fury sent sprawling. That was pretty satisfying.”

And, “Plastic?”

[Tabitha Reese]
“What’s wrong with you?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“If limping and bathroom describes multiple days, you may be quickly becoming my favorite person I’ve met here so far.” She looks up as Tabitha approaches, going quiet for a second as she looks her over and seeing how this changes the table’s dynamic.

[Tala Whitedeer]
She gives Tabitha a scowl, saying nothing.

[Howard]
What’s wrong with you?

“Who?” He points in Tala’s direction. “Her? I think she’s jealous.”

[Tabitha Reese]
She looks Sarita over quickly, then offers a nod. “Hey.”

Her nose wrinkles at Howard. “No, you. Why would she be jealous?”

[Drew Roscoe]
Not one to question why a pair of Garou will get into a fight, Drew instead started walking up the sidewalk once Remy’s arm unwraps from her back and side. He was gentlemanly enough not to let it linger, even went so far as to apologize for the act (though the necessity for it was beyond her, she wasn’t bothered enough to pitch a fit over it). Her shoulders shrugged, white mittened hands adjusted the lapels and collar of her coat, and she walked the curb as he explained himself, and while she explained herself in turn when the plastic was brought up and questioned.

“Huh,” is what she has to say on the pack that he’s talking about, how satisfying it had been for him to see Stag-boy’s alpha eat floor. And “Don’t worry about it,” for the apology.

As for the plastic: “I haven’t quite had a chance to get the blood cleaned off the seats yet. The week’s been hectic, to say the least.” She doesn’t have to tell the whole story, not unless he asks for it specifically. She doesn’t need to say that it’s her own blood that cakes most of the vehicle, and the rest is from an ally– none of it is from an enemy. It was a part of being Garou and, unfortunately, these situations tended to spill over and make it a part of being Kin as well. It was just a shame that they were so much more fragile.

[Tala Whitedeer]
“I’ll see you back at the motel, Tabitha.” She nods to Sarita and Howard, standing and heading for the exit. ((bedtime))

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“Nice meeting you…uh, person,” she calls in Tala’s direction as she departs.

[Howard]
“Lady,” he says, laughing slightly as he sits back in his chair, “do I look like I’ve the slightest idea why girls do the things they do? We aren’t wired the same, for Christ’s sa–oh hey later!”

[Hunter]
At some point Hunter walks back in, slaps Howard in the ear and sits down in a chair.

“Stop it, I don’t care what it is, just stop it.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“Well, in all fairness it WOULD be dull if we were all wired the same.” She looks over at Hunter as he comes up. “You I remember too.”

[Howard]
“Ow!!” He sounds indignant; however, this is Howard, who only expresses genuine emotion by affecting the exact opposite. His hand goes up over his ear, and he starts laughing. “You got me in the ear, you wanker!”

[Patrick]
Patrick steps into the Cafe — though he has been taking his own sweet time about it and saunters up to his Alpha; Howard’s shoulders get the benefit of his pack-brother’s large palms pressing down firmly on them as the Bone Gnawer resurfaces from — elsewhere — and slaps the Theurge’s ear.

Patrick sets his gaze over the assembled; his Rage like a persistent heaviness in the air.

“Hey.”

[Tabitha Reese]
She quiets, watching the three as Patrick joins them.

[Izzy Montoya]
At some point, she’d finished her coffee. Now, she stands, pulls her gloves back on, and heads toward the door.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
And then she looks up at Patrick. “And you, of course I remember. Hola.”

[Remy]
Remy laughs, a single muffled Ha! echoing down the quiet street. “Transporting bodies, were you?”

[Hunter]
“Ah..” He scratches his chin “Oh.. that’s right, you was at the fuckin’ broho last week or some shit. Good ta’ see ya’ again.”

He ignores Howard’s at least for now. He’s like one of those fake babies, it will always be there, crying and moaning and being useless. They take hundreds of years to degrade as well. Those annoying little fucks. Somewhere in a dump there is an underground city of crying moaning cabbage patch dolls.

“Hey patty.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She checks her watch. “Oh…yeah, I guess it is last week by now. Huh. Nice to see you too though. S’up?”

[Drew Roscoe]
“Only mine and a friend’s.” There’s a beat, and she corrects herself. “No, there was a body in the back, but that was easy to hose off.” She’s not scowling so hard now, being out of the cafe and back on the street, walking away with the knowledge that a bed and room all her own was only thirty or forty minutes away was promising enough a thought that it calmed her down some.

Her dark cherry painted Dodge Ram is near the end of the block, and when close enough to it she extracts her keys from her coat pocket and presses the button that has the lights flashing to indicate where the vehicle is and that its doors are now unlocked. The story leaves much to be desired, plenty of details left out (like exactly what the fuck happened and why she and this friend were bleeding rather than all the bad guys dead bodies), but the fact was that she was standing there looking as fit and healthy as could be. There’s no limp in her step or pain in her face when stops at her truck and pulls open the passenger door. On a street like this with drunk drivers and taxi cabs alike dominating the road, it was just safer and smarter to go in through the passenger side if you could.

All’s well that ends well right?

[Patrick]
There’s a Black Fury whose face he does not recognize, another he recalls from the Brotherhood and a Fenrir Kinswoman whom he last glimpsed the night Howard took a swandive off a fire escape.

And Hunter.
Who calls him Patty and gets the benefit of a frown.

Izzy is gone too quickly for the Galliard to salute her, so his attention re-focuses on the newcomers. “Hey, I don’t think I caught your name last time.” To Sarita, those blue, blue eyes all hers for a beat, then they shift to the Black Fury. “And yours is a face I don’t know at all.”

He sticks a hand out; it’s rough and his movement brings with it the wave of motor-oil and cigarette smoke. The latter far fresher than the former. He clasps hands where he’s offered and adds, with emphasis: “I’m Patrick, people call me Prayers to Broken Stone.”

He nods at Howard.

“This one’s pack-mate.” Speaking of, Patrick glances at Howard’s face; the frown returns. “Did you lose your sunglasses when the Fenrir chased you? Fuck, how many pairs have you lost being chased around?” He starts making some cursory sweep of the Cafe floor.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She affects a terrible British accent. “Ecos de la Risa. Sarita…Ecos de la Risa. I take my martinis neither shaken nor stirred, but thrown the fuck out so I can have tequila shots.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
And she takes the offered hand with a hearty handshake.

[Howard]
“I’ll have you know,” he says, “it wasn’t the chasin’ that made them fall off, it was…”

He blindly points a finger towards Tabitha, knocking over an empty cup in the process. There has been a period of palpable silence over the totemphone, Howard not screaming for help or recounting his last will and testament prior to being destroyed like he usually does.

“… the tripping. Don’t usually have an man-hater pop out of nowhere to help a woman-hater, man, I’ll be on my toes next time.”

[Tabitha Reese]
“I don’t hate men. Some Furies DO have to like men, you know.”

[Howard]
“Oh, come off it,” he says, “I have sex with people I hate all the time.”

[Remy]
“Huh.” Remy thinks for a while. Maybe it’s that handsome, handsome face. Maybe it’s all the muscle. Whatever the reason, thinking looks like it takes more effort for him than, say, throwing a punch. Or ripping off a scathing insult or three. If Drew knew his auspice, she might be surprised. Most people are. Then they find out how long it took him to earn Cliathhood, and it’s not such a surprise anymore.

“Was the body in the back responsible for the blood on the seats, at least?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She laughs a little bit. “I picked the right coffee joint to frequent tonight, I see.”

[Tabitha Reese]
“Masturbation doesn’t count, sugar.” She smiles sweetly, then looks at the door. “I should probably go make sure Tala got back okay.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
The laugh turns into a full cackle. “Instant classic right there.”

[Drew Roscoe]
Drew pegged him for a Rotagar. It was the crotch grab that nailed it. He’s pondering what she had to say about the blood on the seats, even as she steps up onto the foot hold of the truck then climbs across the truck’s bench to slide in behind the wheel, plastic that covered the back and seat of the bench crinkling noisily in protest while she went. The plastic sheet was clear but cloudy, but even through that the dark brown of dried blood that interrupted the light gray of the seat beneath could be seen. There was a lot of it behind the driver’s wheel, right where she sat.

His question is met with a curious expression, a moment to think about how to answer that, and she waits until he’s in and the truck door’s closed to answer. “Mostly, but it wasn’t the only one. The rest of them followed us and it turned into a full-out battle maybe forty minutes or an hour later.” Keys in the ignition and she starts the truck. “No casualties on our side…. but it got pretty close.” Both mirrors are checked and doors are locked before Drew’s pulling out into traffic.

[Howard]
It’s only for five seconds, but that comeback shuts Howard up long enough for Tabitha to make her exit. He laughs, but the fact that he doesn’t have an instantaneous game-ender to hurl back at her means she’s either struck a nerve, or that was simply too well-played an insult to recover from right away.

“What, your ‘phone’ busted?” he asks. “Tabitha, love, if you can’t stand your attraction to me, just say so. You don’t have to go runnin’ off. It’ll save us all a lot of pain and heartache in the long run.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She smirks, waving to Tabitha. “Nice to kind-of meet ya. Have a good’n.”

She then turns her attention to Howard. “You just got ‘powned,’ as the kids these days say. Y’know that, right?”

[Tabitha Reese]
“You’ve got me. It’s all I can do to not throw myself at you right here, right now. If I don’t leave now, I’m sure to do something that you regret.” She leans in, delivering a toe curling kiss to Howard before nodding to the others and breezing out. (Bed!)

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
Her eyes widen, and she laughs. “Correction. You just got old-school motherfuckin’ OWNED.”

[Howard]
To say that Howard does not see that coming isn’t an exaggeration. He literally does not realize she’s there until she’s inches from his face, and then the Fury has her mouth on his. A Litany-following, Gaia-fearing servant of the spirits would be pushing away from her as fast as he possibly could; Howard, stunned as he is, doesn’t even think to reciprocate. He smells like Febreze and marijuana smoke but his breath is vaguely fruity, as though he’s been chewing gum. His eyes stay open, and when she pulls back and disappears, he sucks in a breath.

He got old-school motherfuckin’ owned.

“The fuck did you just say?” he asks, feigning belligerence, before reaching down to unceremoniously adjust the crotch of his jeans. “Speak English.”

[Remy]
“Hm,” Remy makes another thinking noise, “so my question really is: did you take care of them all, or do I have to kick some asses?”

[Drew Roscoe]
“We got ’em,” is the short answer.

The addendum is tacked on with a lift of one eyebrow and a half a smirk to accompany her glance in his direction before eyes return to the road. “But I don’t think anyone will ever have all of Them taken care of.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“That was English, Mack Daddy.” She grins. “Si quieres que no hablan Ingl├ęs, puedo hacer eso tambi├ęn.”

[Howard]
“Estamos en los estados unidos, chica,” he sighs, suddenly sounding weary, pinching the bridge of his nose for effect; “los americanos no les gusta cuando los extranjeros hablan sus lenguas extra├▒as.”

[Patrick]
Meanwhile, Patrick has been on a sunglasses hunt. Or, one assumes as much, anyway. There is, after a time no small amount of scuffling beneath a corner table and a female seated nearby gives a little shriek when Patrick’s shoulder brushes into her bare leg.

“Aha.”

He says, voice muffled. A hand emerges with a pair of sunglasses, followed by the rest of his body. He shakes dust out of his hair, glances at the woman; she quivers a little. It’s the Rage, that’s all. “Sorry, you were in the way.” Then he gets to his feet, and wanders back to his Alpha; taking his hand and firmly slapping his glasses into his palm.

“I’m fitting ’em with a fucking pager.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She nods, the grin ratcheted up. “S├ş, pero usted conoce a alguien mejor, cuando no ver lo que los enfurece. Y los americanos son muy, muy bueno en el supuesto que alguien que habla espa├▒ol no sabe Ingl├ęs, que es ideal para espiar.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
The fact that Patrick just emerged and missed the whole ‘owning’ bit seems to amuse her, and she nods to him. “Welcome back.”

[Remy]
We got ’em, she says. Remy, climbing onto the plastic sheets and shutting the door and buckling himself in as she gets this show on the road, tosses her an approving glance.

“Good girl. I hate having to clean up after someone else. So you got a name, or am I just going to call you ‘girl’ for the rest of your life?”

[Drew Roscoe]
He finally gets around to asking about a name, and that gets a bit of a chuckle from the Kinfolk. “Girl works fine. Or Drew. Or if you wanna get on my great side, Long Shot.” Kin had to work hard to get something close to a deed name, you better believe she was proud of hers.

The drive back to The Brotherhood of Thieves wasn’t a difficult one, she didn’t have to ask him once about directions, she’s obviously been a few times before (truth be told, she’s driven there several times but it was a rare thing that she would actually go inside– paranoia instilled by a fanatic was a difficult thing to shake). A few turns, stoplights, and a dozen or so blocks of main road are eaten up by the unnecessarily large truck for an urban setting before they’re in the parking lot, around by the employee door that the Garou typically used rather than the customer entrance.

Remy’d get dropped off with a name, phone number, and an explanation that she could be reached at any time because Family didn’t get a day off.

[Howard]
“Eso es muy, muy profundo,” he says, nodding. “Maar as ek praat soos hierdie, die polisie dink dat ek hier is onwettig. En dan–”

His brother grabs his hand and slaps his sunglasses into them. There is no melting relief from the Theurge, but he does say something strange as a dog walking on its hind legs:

“Thanks, man.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“Oh, now changing tongues on me, that’s just not fair.” She smirks. “Was the one you had still tied in knots?”

[Patrick]
Patrick has absolutely no notion of what the pair are speaking when he slaps those sunglasses back into his Alpha’s hand. He therefore possesses the expression of someone standing amongst a number of his peers speaking Chinese on the bus while he stands among them; entirely unfocused on their conversation.

Howard thanks him; and his pack-mate doesn’t comment, but sets his hand on his bony shoulder as he passes by on the way to the counter.

[Howard]
After he returns his sunglasses to his face there is no dawning change in the young man’s demeanor; he did not shut down simply because he couldn’t see a damned thing. Any difference in how he typically acts wasn’t likely to be noticed by anyone other than Patrick, who was too busy hunting for his aviators to notice he wasn’t standing up or flailing his arms around like an over-caffeinated college professor.

Black shades in place, he sees her smirks and raises it with a self-satisfied, teeth-baring grin.

“Now why would my tongue be tied in anythin’?”

[Remy]
[thanks for the RP, all! *jets*]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She leans back with a chuckle. “I don’t know. It sure seemed to be twisted around something not very long ago. I thought maybe whatserface could maybe pull off that trick where you tie a cherry stem with your tongue.”

[Hunter]
Hunter has been dozing off, his head in his arms on the table. Thankfully he doesn’t snore, that’s reserved for those of.. larger calibre.. He sleeps quietly.. if you don’t count the yips and puppy noises that come out of his mouth as he chases cars down never ending streets in a city where it’s summer all the time.

When he wakes it is sudden, his head comes up and he looks around for familiar faces.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“Morning. sunshine.”

[Howard]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 1, 3 (Botch x 2 at target 7)
“I’ve got somethin’ she can–”

Up comes Hunter. Howard seems to have found his sunglasses again, or had someone find them for him.

“Good mornin’, sunshine!” he crows, almost simultaneously with Sarita, and hauls off to kick Hunter under the table.

[HIEYAH!]

[Howard]
[IGNORE THE ROLL HURR]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“1, 2, 3, JINX!”

[Howard]
“What?”

[Hunter]
Hunter seems most confused by all of this. “The fuck?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“What, you’ve never heard of that? Two people say the same thing, whoever says ‘1-2-3 Jinx’ first means the other can’t talk and if they do, they owe the Jinxer something to drink. I’ll put it on your tab.”

[Howard]
Howard looks over to Hunter as if to confirm what he’s about to say before he goes ahead and says it.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard all fuckin’ night, and I’ve been hangin’ out with this dickhead since about five o’clock.” He stands, somewhat abruptly, and starts off towards the restrooms. “I gotta take a leak, hold that thought.”

[GOTTA BOUNCE YO]

[Hunter]
“That sort’a shit will get ya’ fuckin’ beat up in LA.” He says and pushes back from the table to stretch his arms and back. It’s a glorious stretch, bone popping and groan inducing.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“Mmm, they can try.” She grins, like she would enjoy the opportunity. “I may not hit harder, but I fight dirtier.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She takes a sip of her coffee. “So, this a usual hangout, or just a place lucky enough to serve as such for the night?”

[Patrick]
The Galliard of Caldera has been placing an order at the bar. He turns, eventually, with a steaming mug of coffee in his hand and makes his way over to the table where Sarita and Hunter are sitting. He turns his chair the wrong way, and braces his elbows on the spine of it; cradling his coffee.

He studies both faces as he sips.

“Howard in the toilet?” He asks the Bone Gnawer, with no small amount of surprise. Howard was always in the bathroom, if he wasn’t outside smoking. “Guy has a bladder the side of a walnut.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She grins. “I assume we’re not talking about some genetically-engineered super-walnut that grows to ginormous size and rampages through Walnut Tokyo, right?”

[Patrick]
“Nah,” Patrick says with little inflection save the way his pale brows rise. “Would you want to see his super walnut?” He shakes his head, leans his weight back from the chair back; it protests the motion with a wooden creaking.

“I sure as hell don’t, and I live with the guy.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
“Yeah, no thanks. You seen one walnut, you seen ’em all. Besides, I left my industrial-strength nutcracker back in the van.”

[Patrick]
That earns the female a chuckle, a brief, almost soundless affair before the Galliard drains his mug; glances at the bathroom door, then at the (apparently) dosing Bone Gnawer. “I hate to leave you alone with this guy,” a nudge of the Ahroun’s leg, he twitches but does not stir.

“But I gotta head home, hit the showers. I reek of motors.” Patrick rises, and twists the chair right way around. He nods at Sarita, and heads for the bar to deposit his empty mug on the way out. “Take it easy, yeah.”

With that, the Rage-intensive young man pushes out the door into the night.

[Sorry guys, my brain is pretty well mush! Thanks for the RP! ]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
She grins and watches him go. “Don’t have too much fun. Have a good one.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa]
[[Probably a good place for me to go get some sleep too.]]

She finishes up her coffee and rises. “If you’re awake, tell the Mack Daddy I’ll talk to him later. Amy’ll kill me if I don’t get up at a halfway decent hour tomorrow. Don’t have too much fun.” She grins and moves to turn in her mug before heading on out the door.”