Angry Birds, Not-Too-Angry John, Nervous Sasha

[Amunet Trujillo] She looks relatively pleased with herself as she makes her way back upstairs and to room 10. The door is opened and shut quietly, just in case Sarita is still sleeping, and not lying in wait to play Inquisition.

[Amunet Trujillo] (Stupid defaults to new posts on top)

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She’s laying in bed, curled up on her side with her eyes shut. The slow rise and fall of her chest would indicate to almost anyone that she is in fact out like a light. Sarita never has been a particular morning person, after all.

She actually lets Amy get almost to wherever in the room she’s going before speaking up. “He seems nice.”

[Amunet Trujillo] Fuck.

“Yeah, he’s okay. When did you get in?” She settles cross legged on her bed, leaning over to pull the iPad out from under the bed and turning it on.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Uh…somewhere between too fucking late and too fucking early.” She pulls herself into a vague sitting position, rubbing at her eyes. “So my guess would be, like…I dunno. Fucking Shoot Me-O’ Clock.”

In Sarita talk, that’s probably between 3:00 and 5:00 in the morning.

[Amunet Trujillo] “Then go the fuck back to sleep” She touches and drags and taps, and soon obnoxiously cheery music starts up.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She had just flopped down and her eyes had shut when the music kicks in. “You are the spawn of Satan himself when he was having a particularly bad day.” A pillow goes flying in the kinfolk’s direction.

[Amunet Trujillo] “Fuck off.” The music stops, replaced by chittering, chirping, crashing, cheering sounds as she drags her finger across the screen, then lifts it off.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Blow me.” She cracks an eyebrow, looking at the tablet in Amy’s hands like it’s the source of of the very Wyrm itself.

[Amunet Trujillo] Something cracks her up, at the same time that a loud crash results in animated cackling from the tablet. “Nice retort, Sar. Classy.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Yeah, because we’re classy fuckin’ people, right?” She lifts her head and then notices something with a surprised blink. “Hey, what happened to your face?”

[Amunet Trujillo] “Fuck you. I’m classy as fuck. I own a fucking dress now. FUCK!” She scowls at the tablet, glancing up to Sarita and then back down. “Carter can do this fucked up take away the damage thing. I don’t know. He took off before he would explain it.” Touch. Drag. Crash. Cackle.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Who the fuck is Carter, and what the fuck is that infernal thing DOING?”

[Amunet Trujillo] “Weird dude. Lord kin, I guess. That’s what Stefan said.” Drag. Crash. She glances up with a sheepish grin. “Angry birds.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Angry birds are making for an angry sister.” She scowls and swipes her hair out of her face. The Ragabash may be one of the least Ragey Garou you can find, but even she’s irritable on nights and days of the full moon.

“You’re just all about the Thundah these days, huh?”

[Amunet Trujillo] “He doesn’t make me feel like shit. That’s already an improvement.” There are a couple more drag/crash combos before the noise stops. “Fuck him. I think I’m keeping this.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Well, good.” She nods. “That means I don’t have to force-feed him his own liver. That would make things awkward with Lukas.”

[Amunet Trujillo] “He’ll be fun to have around for a while.” She shrugs, tapping to end the game, then going about clearing everything else off the iPad. “I don’t expect you guys to hang out and be all buddy buddy. He doesn’t need to hear any of your stories.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks heartbroken. “Does this mean I can’t tell him about the time in Jackson that we had to go on a week-long search to find all your clothes because you got so drunk you forgot where you’d left them?”

[Amunet Trujillo] “That’s pretty much what it means, yeah.” She glances up, then back to the tablet, keeping her voice absolutely casual. “I like him enough that I don’t want him to know what I was like before.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She cocks her head to the side, brow raising, and then gives a little shrug. “Okay, fair enough. I’ll be good and be zippin’ the lippin’.”

[John] Knock knock knock!

[Amunet Trujillo] “Or I’ll kick your ass. Don’t forget that I can. Get the door, hey?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[Oh, FYI in case time references matter (we probably shoulda chosen day), this is morning-ish]]

“Eat me.” She crawls out of bed, still carrying her serious case of bedhead and generally half-made up. She shambles to the door and opens it up, looking out.

[Amunet Trujillo] “Fuck you, I’m busy here.”

[John] The last time he was here, he was dismissed under the pretense that Amunet had “shit to do” that didn’t require his presence. He had gone, closing the door behind him without meaning to slam it, and grabbed up his jacket without stopping to say much in the way of goodbyes to her sister.

It’s warmer now, and the moon is heavier. When Sarita opens the door she finds John standing there, fully upright and almost militant in his posture rather than leaning against the doorframe. It’s above freezing, which means he’s without a jacket today. His outfit doesn’t vary much from day to day: he wears the same boots and jeans he has had since arriving the end of last month.

At any rate, if he was expecting someone else, it doesn’t show on his face. John looks different than he normally does, if only in his eyes. They’re as fiery as one can expect from someone with blue eyes, yet there is no hardness or ferocity on the rest of his face. He nods to Sarita, then pauses to scribble something in his journal. Showing it to her, she sees that “Amy” has been written atop “you.”

Hunter says you asked for me

[Amunet Trujillo] Deep breath, Ames. She can smell his scent, having picked up the habit of paying attention to how each person’s differs from years of Trueborn friends. She taps and swipes a couple of more things on the iPad, then looks up at the door but doesn’t get up.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks John up and down, her expression a bit bland. She blinks a bit of sleep away, rubs at her eyes, and then yanks. “Hey.” There’s a bleary smile that comes along with it. Someone didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, it would seem.

She leans in, squinting so that she can see the journal. “Oh. Right. C’mon in.”

She turns around and walks back toward her bed. “Bachelor +1’s here,” she says to Amy. “Wink Martindale’s not asking any fuckin’ questions, though.”

[Amunet Trujillo] “Good. Because he’d get punched in the fucking mouth.”

She nods at John with a slight smile. “Hey. Sorry, I thought he’d just have you text me or something”

[John] Empathy isn’t his strong suit; he makes nothing of the way Sarita looks at him, and doesn’t read into it. For his part, he doesn’t look particularly tired. It’s hard to tell, what with nearly a month’s worth of facial hair grown in. Must be whoever was keeping on him about shaving his face departed from this world along with the pack he’d mentioned being dust now.

The journal is stuffed into his pocket for now, and John enters the room with some trepidation. Confusion comes across his features when Sarita mentions bachelors and winking and questions. He shakes his head, clearing the confusion away like water, and scratches his brow as Amy speaks. There is none of his usual attempts to seem as though he knows how to smile. One could say he’s businesslike, were one unaware of the current phase of the moon. He shakes his head, and then attempts to convey what happened to his phone by holding his left hand up to his ear, thumb and little finger forming the ‘phone,’ then draws his index finger across his throat.

That done, his hands go to his hips, and a curious expression comes across his face.

[Amunet Trujillo] “What did you do to it?” She reads him too easily. “Come sit down. I want to show you something.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She faceplants onto the bed, lying there dramatically for a moment before she rolls onto her back and gives a sigh. Yeah, she knows that she’s not sleeping at this point. Might as well get used to the idea. She looks up and between the duo, watching them with a vague curiosity.

[John] That question almost makes him laugh. Were the moon darker, he probably would have: John falls all too easily into the Strong Silent category, yet he isn’t a dour, humorless stereotype. No one is going to nominate him to be the face of the Fenrir tribe. For starters, if one were to ask the opinion of the rest of the populace he’s too damn pretty, but that’s beside the point. He laughs more than the rest of the Fenrir put together, and he doesn’t have a voice with which to accomplish this.

Not this morning, though. This morning it just takes away some of the intensity in his eyes for a few seconds, and then she’s imploring him to sit down. She wants to show him something.

Curiosity becomes suspicion. If he were a fertile male he might be even more concerned. John glances over to her sister, but finds no answer to his question. He remains standing.

[Amunet Trujillo] She scowls, just slightly. “Jesus fuck. I’ll keep my hands to myself. Sar is right fucking here so even if I wanted to do anything to you, I wouldn’t.” She runs her free hand through her hair, the casted hand sitting on her lap. “Just sit down, okay? Please?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She gives a little nod in conjunction with her sister’s words. There’s not much doubt that Sarita would NOT be cool with getting booted out so that more getting it on could happen. She may not be sleeping, but she has no intent of getting fully dressed so she’s decent enough to wander around the Broho.

“Truth. There would be much yelling and swatting with brooms. I’d possibly even turn the hose on her.”

[John] Maybe he was just waiting for her to ask him to sit down instead of telling him to, or wanted to hear the magic word. John looks away from the kinswoman when her sister pipes up, a soft huff of amusement leaving his nostrils with talk of punitive responses to Amy touching him made even softer by the fact that he isn’t blind and would have noticed the cast faster if his player weren’t half asleep. After a pause, he pulls a chair back from the desk and sits himself down, feet apart and hands clasped between his knees. He waits, eyebrows raised, that suspicion turned to wariness.

[Amunet Trujillo] “Jesus fuck. Just make this as fucking hard as possible on me, right?” She scowls a little more, repositioning herself so that she can turn the iPad around on her lap. Notepad is already open, and she uses one finger to tap out a short message, taking longer since she’s selecting her letters upside down now.

do you know how to type?

[John] He doesn’t seem to recognize the device she’s holding out in front of him, or recognize that that might possibly be what she wants to show him; his eyes flick to it, watching her finger as she writes out her question into the word processing program. Now, a normal person might think to maybe demonstrate that he does, in fact, know how to type by actually typing his response into the program, but John either actually has nothing better to do with his day than to make Amy’s task as difficult as possible, or he’s a creature that relies more on body language than intermediary sources to express simple thoughts.

In either case, he waits until she’s looking at him before he nods. He frowns, then seems to grasp something that she isn’t saying and reaches out to take the iPad.

[Amunet Trujillo] The fingers sticking out from the cast help to balance the iPad as he takes it, and she watches him before launching in full speed.

“There’s notepad, so you can type shit out instead of having to fill up notebooks. You can save notes, so like at the back of yours when you have shit you say all the time they’ll be right there. I can show you how.” She’s talking far too fast, clearly nervous. “There’s a couple games on it, and we can find you more shit if you want. The battery life is kind of shitty if you forget to turn it off, but there’s a charger that’s one of those usb things and the electric socket bit is separate, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find a way to charge it up….”

She has to breathe, eventually.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Sweetie…” She sits up, looking between the two. “Think you probably wanna go a bit slower than that. You practically lost ME in that particular explanation.”

[John] Glancing over at the Ragabash, John allows another of those not-quite-laughs to be heard, and looks down at the device. He is hardly the largest Garou roving the city, yet in his mitt the device looks small and fragile. They can both see, as he looks down at it, that he’s questioning whether or not he can handle the responsibility of something so expensive. He couldn’t grasp the concept of keeping a cell phone charged, and so that has fallen into the annals of Drawn in Blood’s History of Failed Attempts at Modern Communication.

He would probably be equally nervous if someone handed him an infant.

After a moment to digest the fact that someone else’s kinswoman just gifted him something very expensive and accompanied by an easily-voided warranty, John looks back up at Amy. His free hand scrubs at his face, callouses bristling against beard, and when he types it’s no more eloquent or properly spelled than his handwritten attempts.

thank you
i dont no if i can ecept this
afrad wil brak
wil you keep it for me

When he hands it to her, like with the phone, he relies on his facial expression to convey that it’s a question instead of using punctuation.

[Amunet Trujillo] “Oh. Yeah” She grins and reaches for something next to her, setting the black thing on her lap before tapping the screen. “There’s this shield thing on it, so it won’t get scratched. The case…” She takes the tablet over, showing him the back. “It’s that carbon fiber shit. Seriously hard to break. And…”

The grin gets bigger as she puts the tablet on the bed next to her, covering it with the black thing from her lap and struggling to get the top snapped into place one handed. She manages though, and once the screen is protected and the case completely covering it, picks the whole thing up and hurls it across the room.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She cringes as the thing flies across the room. She knows the case is sturdy, but it’s instinct as the sees the tablet computer being used as a frisbee…never mind the loud ‘smack’ when it hits the wall.

“Jesus fucking Christ su hijo bruja malvada de Satanás mismo me voy a estrangular a uno de estos días!

[Amunet Trujillo] She laughs and gets up to retrieve the tablet, fingers just barely brushing John’s shoulder as she moves past him.

“No, no lo son. Tú me amas. Y el efecto más, visual, ¿no? Él tiene que saber que lo digo en serio, y no sólo atraerlo aquí para nada.”

[John] He watches the tablet go flying through the air as if he’s watching a sporting event, eyes following the curvature of the iPad through the air with muted interest before it smacks against the wall and bounces a few feet. That seems to have convinced him, or at least has driven him to humor the kinswoman. He doesn’t tell her that his claws could probably destroy the thing in half a second, but neither is he given the chance: an eruption of Spanish from the bed has him looking over, idly scratching at his eyebrow.

And then Amy brushes his shoulder. He sits up ramrod straight, then hauls himself out of the chair and tugs on the hem of his shirt. Aware of the potency of his Rage this time of month, of her injured wrist, he does not trail after Amy. Assuming its next destination is his hand, John examines the iPad to see how the thing held up during its unmanned flight, then types. There is a pause after two hard returns, but he forges ahead.

Ok i wil tak car of it
Thank you
How much i ow you

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She still looks unsettled despite Amy’s comments. Sarita is no threat to go a red mindless killing spree, and compared to all but the most docile of Garou she’s very chill. It still doesn’t mean she’s a true joy to be around on nights that Luna’s face is fully visible. She shakes her head and falls back to lay on her back, looking between the two with a vaguely dour disposition.

“Guess I’m just lucky the infernal thing didn’t go heat-seeking on my head or some shit,” she mutters.

[Amunet Trujillo] The tablet is good as new when he opens it again, still powered up to the notepad.

The fact that he reacted like that didn’t escape her. She stands a bit away when she hands it to him, going the long way around to grab the charger and cord. “I’m sorry…”

Sighing, she winds around to settle on her bed again, cast in her lap, free hand tugging at a lock of hair nervously. “You don’t owe me nothing. I just thought it would help you. The case, there’s some silicone shit that blocks the ports so if you’re in the rain or whatever it won’t get fucked up. Like I said, I can show you how to use everything. You can put music and shit on it too, of course. That bird game is kind of funny….”

She trails off, knowing that she’s babbling, watching him intently to read every expression.

[John] There would normally be warmth and some sign of affection in his eyes. Perhaps he ought to have come after Luna had waned away from full, when he didn’t feel a drive to fight constantly, when he didn’t feel anger constantly eating at his breastbone like an ulcer threatening to send him careening into a frenzy that he cannot control. John is particularly dangerous: he can swallow back a berserk frenzy, can stave that off so long as he is not utterly drained of will to keep going, but should the Wyrm take him over there is nothing he or anyone else in the room can do. Running won’t help the latter, and he is metis. All Thralls are horrific, but there is something particularly gruesome about theirs.

It’s never happened to him. He’d probably be dead if it had.

At any rate, his expression as he watches Amy becomes inscrutable. It’s hard to tell if he understands half of what is coming out of her mouth, but John is honest almost to a fault. If he didn’t understand, she’d know. Without glancing back at Sarita, the notion that he’s doing something wrong apparently not something with which he’s concerned at the moment, John steps forward to grasp Amy’s shoulder. It’s firm, his hand near to unbearably warm, and there is no yearning or sensuality in it. He grasps his comrades’ shoulders like this.

The last he’d heard they were friends.

That done, he looks between the sisters, pocketing the charger and other cords, and appears mildly at a loss for what to do next. He holds the iPad up, the way he does to thank someone for the item he’s been given, then tucks it under his arms and pantomimes again: he points to his chest, holds up his cobbled-together ‘phone,’ punches buttons like he does when he texts, points to Amy, and waves his hand in a forward motion.

He’ll text her later.

With that, he nods to Sarita, and ducks out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

[Amunet Trujillo] “There’s a note on it.” She grabs for the iPad before he can put it away, for the moment ignoring the fact that he touched her. There’s plenty of time to obsess about what it did or didn’t mean later. She flicks back to the main screen, pointing to a saved note that’s just labeled with his name. “From me. Just… read it whenever.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She may be the snarkmaster, but she has the good sense to stay quiet. Whatever her thoughts about her sister’s latest overture to John–and what that overture may be motivated by–she isn’t going to interrupt and cause it to get weirder than it probably already is for them.

Why? Well, you go and do something to make an already on-edge Ahroun feel even less comfortable on the night of the full moon. Go ahead, do it. No really, go. I’ll wait. I don’t see you moving toward that Ahroun in the corner. You know why you’re not moving. Because you’re not a fucking idiot. Right, well, neither is Sarita. Hey, mention that incident from Seattle one more time, and…never mind. Just don’t.

When John looks her way, she gives him a little smile and wave.

[John] Somewhere between grasping her shoulder and pantomiming that he’ll text her later, John looks at the screen to see where the note has been stored. He doesn’t read it now, perhaps cautious of what it is he’s going to find there with her sister present, but he does nod, acknowledging that he understands what she’s pointing out, perhaps promising that he’s going to read it later.

Full Moons are strange to begin with. From childhood they are sensed as being different, difficult, by their human peers. John did not have human peers. He didn’t have human anything growing up, and metis, at ten years of age, look like teenagers. Considering what his life had to have been like growing up, what he’s expressed to Amy that he’s experienced in the last ten years, it’s a wonder he isn’t more overtly angry, less in control of his temper.

Even when he is restraining his tribesmen and punching people in the eye, it’s a calculated move rather than a loss of his ability to behave. Violence isn’t a thoughtless act with him, and it isn’t his first line of response.

At any rate, Sarita’s restraint and silence is still a sign of intelligence. She herself can feel the effects of the moon, though it isn’t visible. It’s worse for those of them inundated with Rage. John had taken a gamble coming here today, and he’s trying to leave before their luck runs out.

So: the pantomiming, and then the exit. He doesn’t linger any longer than he has to.

[Thanks for the scene, guys!]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[Thank you!]]

[Amunet Trujillo] She flops back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling and folding her good arm under her head.


[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Sooooooooo…” She finally gets up and starts looking for a comb to straighten out her rat’s nest of a post-nocturnal ‘do.

“What’s on your mind right now?”

[Amunet Trujillo] “That I’m pretty fucking sure I love him.” She sighs, turning onto her side toward her sister. “I will kill you if you ever repeat that, and I won’t do it all easy in your sleep.”

She curls up a little, knees pulled toward her chest. “It went okay though. I mean, he took it, right? That’s good.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I’m telling NO ONE, believe you me.” She takes a breath. “But yeah, it went okay. I mean, it’s the full moon. It could have gone a LOT worse.”

[Amunet Trujillo] “Yeah. He could have shoved it right up my ass and left.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “That would have been a hospital trip for the record books.”

[Amunet Trujillo] “It would have been something.” She smiles very slightly. “I’m glad you were here”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Well, there was no way you were making me get dressed to leave.” She looks over and smiles a bit. “Happy to be here.”

[Amunet Trujillo] “Pretty sure that if he’d unzipped, you would have been gone.” She sticks her tongue out, then looks away.

[Saschenka Neal] Up, up, up the stairs…!

She tromps up the stairs, bag of boots again dangling from her fingers and flats on instead. She looks a little more out of sorts then normal, but that’s what happens on Fridays when the weather is suddenly nice and you can see the ground again. People go insane, and helping police goes up, thus, one ends up with more work.

Glancing around, and see the common room empty, she stashes her boots in a corner, and then goes to explore. It be worth looking, to see if there were showers here in case of really bad work days. Neda probably wouldn’t mind that whole smelling like decomp but sometimes… you really wanted to at least wash off before walking into your home.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] A wry look toward her sister as she starts running the comb through her hair. It catches several times and she makes an irritated look each time. “If he’d unzipped, that infernal thing would have gone flying at something a bit lower than the wall.”

[Amunet Trujillo] She half laughs “That was pretty good, wasn’t it? I knew he’d be worried about breaking it. I mean, if he gets his ass jumped by Spirals carbon fiber isn’t going to do shit, but…” She trails off, scowling as her brain spirals off into The Worst Thing That Could Ever Fucking Happen.

[Saschenka Neal] Glancing around a corner, she steps into the hallway and heads down it slowly, glancing around. Washers and dryers… and personal rooms. She was not going to even touch that with a ten foot pole. Though enough wandering shows her, as she pokes her head (carefully) into one room, that there are indeed showers.

“Awesome,” she murmurs more to herself, voice echoing ever so slightly in the empty hallway as she pulls back.

[Amunet Trujillo] Shaking her head hard, she hauls up off the bed. “I need to shower. Come on. Get your ass moving. We’ve got shopping to do”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Hey now.” She looks over at Amy. She knows her sister well enough to imagine where that’s going. “Pull yourself back from there, Miss Fatal Attraction. Don’t start plotting out any black dresses to wear yet, you’re getting a wee bit ahead of yourself.”

The sound of Sasha’s voice sounds from the hallway, and she stands. It’s not one she recognizes. She lets go of the comb, not minding that it has conveniently decided to stay in her hair, and moves to open the door and look out.

[Amunet Trujillo] “Oh fuck you. Stefan is taking me someplace decent, and even I’m not enough of an exhibitionist to get on a bike in a dress. I need something classy to wear.” She gets up too, following.

[Saschenka Neal] There is totally a blond woman in the hallway, hands clasped behind her back. Her hair is pulled into a braid and tucked up under and she seems to be wandering, looking at the rooms and the like. She’s dressed in sturdy jeans and an unzipped windbreaker that has ‘Crime Scene Technician’ stitched into the upper left. Just a plain, cotton t-shirt underneath it. The only thing a little out of place is the nice looking flats she’s wearing.

She glances over as she sees people, smiling a little, politely… maybe a little apologetically, for bothering them. There is the vague prickling of her skin that tells her at least one of the woman is a Trueborn and she nods, politely and respectfully.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks Sasha over, and her head cocks to the side. The comb that’s still stuck in her hair hangs over the floor.

“Okay, Amy. What did you do to bring the freaking Crime Lab here? I am NOT gonna be your alibi again…”

[Amunet Trujillo] “Um. Nothing?” She peeks around Sarita, looking the woman over “Oh, hey. You were in here last night….”

[Saschenka Neal] She startles, and then laughs, holding up her hands. “I swear, I’m off duty. I don’t think anyone could pay me enough to go back on duty at this point.”

There is a nod of her head as Amy says she was there last night, and the bruised face finally kick starts her memory. “I was. You were up at the bar… right?”

[Amunet Trujillo] “Yeah. You lost or something?”

[Saschenka Neal] “No,” she answers, shaking her head and moving close so she’s not shouting down the hall. “It’s just that it’s only my second time up here, and I was looking to see what was available on this floor.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She takes a step the rest of the way out so that Amy and Sasha can talk, heedless of the fact that she’s more or less half-dressed in boxers and a T-Shirt. The T-Shirt, for the record, reads “Relax, I’m hilarious.”

She picks back up with combing her hair, watching Sasha with intense interest and a lopsided smile.

[Amunet Trujillo] “Oh. Well. It’s bedrooms, mostly. Dorm shit. And the showers.” She gestures, then gets close enough to offer her hand. “I’m Amy. That’s my sister, Sarita.”

Apparently, the modesty gene came from Sarita’s mother’s side. Amy happily parades out in a tank top and panties, oblivious to the potential offensive factor.

[Saschenka Neal] If she’s offended, she totally doesn’t let it show. It’s odd, perhaps, but she’s seen people wearing worse, so panties and a tank top is just fine. A hand reaches out to shake Amy’s, and she smiles a little. “It’s nice to meet you both, I’m Sasha. And I saw the showers, that’s… really nice to have.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Hola.” She smiles and waves with her non-combing hand. “We’re the classy ones around here.”

[Amunet Trujillo] “Well. Otherwise we’d stink, right?”

[Saschenka Neal] “Very classy,” Sasha agrees, a smile playing along her lips. “And I was happy for them for other reasons but… yeah, probably be a touchy smelly if there weren’t any showers.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Speak for yourself. My natural scent is fucking roses and sunshine.” She grins, taking a lean back against the wall. The fact that Sasha hasn’t yet taken offense appears to be a good thing in Sarita’s eyes.

[Amunet Trujillo] “Bitch, I lived in a van with you. You are full of shit.”

[Saschenka Neal] There is a slight arching of her eyebrow at the exchange, but she still looks amused at the both of them. “Apologies, ma’am. I shall attempt to smell you better next time to ascertain your rose status.”

[Amunet Trujillo] “Soooo….. Sasha. You and your mate new in town?”

She’s already pegged the woman as Fang by the looks of her. And Fangs are all too willing to latch on to the first Garou that comes their way.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Oh god…Sasha, was it?” She gives the woman a wide-eyed, pleading look. “Please, ever call me Ma’am again. She’s the one with the stick up her ass.” A thumb directed at Amy and a grin. “Sarita would be lovely. In fact, from the way I hear it, Sarita IS lovely. Haven’t had any complaints, anyway.”

[Saschenka Neal] The arched eyebrow goes higher, more pronounced, a little bit of that hoity toity showing that shows Amy she is indeed a Fang. “… no mate. Not even a boyfriend, actually. And yes, I just got here about a week and a half ago.”

Her look relaxes a bit at Sarita’s plea though and she actually grins, if only briefly. “I think I can do that. No more ma’am-ing.”

[Amunet Trujillo] She looks Sasha up and down. “Why not? Something wrong with you? Can’t pop out crotch fruit fast enough for them?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Oh, well cool.” That at the fact that Sasha just got here…not the no boyfriend thing. Not that Sarita has a problem with the fact that she doesn’t have a man. Not that she particularly loves it either. Sarita ain’t like that. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, ’cause there ain’t Some of her best friends are…no, it’s not a line. No, it ain’t like that. Look, let’s quit while we’re ahead, okay.

Amy gets a roll of the eyes. “Be nice, you. That’s the opposite of what you’re being.”

[Saschenka Neal] “We have gone from amusing to slightly insulting, but I’ll roll with the insinuation because it’s not entirely off.” She says smoothly, eyes maybe narrowing, though the smile stays. “It’s a long story, actually, though I’m someone somewhere has said I’m defective and or something is wrong with me. I would actually bet my next paycheck on it.”

[Amunet Trujillo] For whatever reason, she breaks into a smile. “Well then. Welcome to Chicago.”

[Saschenka Neal] For a moment or two longer, her shoulders remain tense, as if preparing. But when Amy relaxes, so does she, smiling faintly back. “…thanks. Also, crotch fruit is a new one. Crotch dropping I heard, but not yours.”

[Amunet Trujillo] “Yeah, I’m pretty proud of it. People have to stop and think before they’re offended.” She nods, still smiling.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She chuckles at the two, shaking her head before something occurs to her and she looks at Sasha. “Oh, hell. Have you met Katherine yet?”

[Saschenka Neal] There’s something that flickers in the kin’s eyes when Sarita mentions Katherine, but she shakes her head, hands sliding behind her back again, like she’s at parade rest almost. “… no, I haven’t met her yet, though she’s been mentioned to me.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Well, do you wanna?” She dips into the room for just a second, returning with her phone. “She’s my packmate-to-be, I can give her a call…”

[Saschenka Neal] No, she really has no desire to meet the Fang Elder and see what she’s going to say. But she nods, managing to smile to Sarita. “That be great, I’d appreciate it. Thank you.”

Seeming to realize Amy did indeed speak before Sarita mentioned Katherine, she shakes her head a bit. “It does sound slightly less offensive then crotch dropping, at first blush.”

[Amunet Trujillo] She seems to be pretty content to just let them talk, her mind already having wandered off to analyze every detail of the previous hour in excruciating detail.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Of course.” She smiles at Sasha and flips the phone open, hitting a number she only recently programmed into her memory and dialing.

[Saschenka Neal] Her smile fades a bit, and she glances around before looking back to Amy. Since Sarita is making the phone call, she murmurs, “Have you been in Chicago a long while?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Hey yo Katherine, it’s Sarita. Found one of your peeps here at the Brotherhood, she’s new around these parts. Her name’s Sasha…” She pauses a moment, and cups the phone to look at Sasha.

“Sorry, she’s not here so I’m leaving her a voice mail. What’s the rest of your name and your phone number? She’ll totally follow up.”

[Saschenka Neal] She doesn’t grimace, but it’s a near thing. “If it’s a message, it’s Saschenka. Saschenka Neal.” And then she gives her cell number to Sarita.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Schweet.” She doesn’t even blink at the name, though she does grin a bit before she goes back to the phone.

“Sorry, it’s Saschenka Neal. You can give her a call at XXX-XXX-XXXX. Good deed for the day accomplished, and you and I gotta hang one of these days. Peace out.”

She hangs up and puts the phone away. “Taken care of.”

[Saschenka Neal] She manages to smile again, though it’s not the widest smile ever. “Again, thank you. It’s appreciated it.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She smiles. “Relax, she’s pretty cool. Pretty lassaiz-faire. You don’t make her life hell, she won’t give you a hard time.”

[Saschenka Neal] She forces her body to relax, and her features to even out as much as she can make them. “So I’ve heard. I try hard not to make any Trueborns’ life hell. It generally makes -my- life less hellish as a result.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Generally, a good way to go.” She grins. “Amy feels differently.”

[Saschenka Neal] “Sometimes,” she admits, with a faint smile, “a kin feels they have to do what they have to do. If that be occasionally speaking up or pointing out flaws so be it.”

She pauses, and then adds in, admitting, “It should probably be done carefully though. We don’t regenerate.”

[Amunet Trujillo] “I haven’t pissed off all of them here. Yet.” At least she’s paying attention again.

[Saschenka Neal] “… yet?” She asks, arching that thin eyebrow. She’s more relaxed again though, having eased out of the parade rest into a more normal stance.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Yet,” she says, to add further emphasis and confirm Sasha’s question.

[Amunet Trujillo] “Not for lack of trying.” She shrugs a shoulder, looking off down the hall for a moment.

[Saschenka Neal] “Not a hobby I would chose personally, but to each their own.” She admits with her own slight shrug, not really judging. She is most certainly not one to judge about things like that.

[Amunet Trujillo] “It’s not really a hobby. It’s more just an unfortunate side effect to me not being a well behaved, keeps my mouth shut kin.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “We’re not normal.” She says it with a grin. “So, Crime Scene Tech, eh? Sounds like fun.”

[Saschenka Neal] There is a moment where the look on her face, and the little smirk, indicate she seems to know exactly what Amy is talking about. “I’ve noticed that.”

[Saschenka Neal] But then Sarita is talking about CST and this is a lot easier to talk about. “It has it’s days. I’ve seen stuff that can be classified as hilarious and interesting. And then they’re are other days… not so much with the fun.”

[Amunet Trujillo] “I’m going to get a shower, Sar. I need to find something for tonight.” She nods at Sasha with a little smile. “Nice meeting you. See you around, and all that shit.”

[Saschenka Neal] She nods, managing a small, honest smile to Amy. “Have a good night.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She smiles at Sasha. “Yeah, I can imagine. It’s not all funny anal insertion accidents and heart attacks mid-coitus.”

She nods to Amy. “Later Ames. If you need to dip into the reserve fund, you know where it is. Call me if you need anything.”

[Saschenka Neal] “I have actually never had heart attack mid-coitus. Stuff like that, actually, I rarely get called for. I get a lot of burglary, home invasion, please come collect this knife because these people got into a fight over a hat…”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I notice you said nothing about never having had an anal insertion accident…”

[Saschenka Neal] “I stopped being surprised at that stuff within my first six months of being on the job,” she gives a wry grin. “The things people do to themselves… it’s rare, but when you are called to it, that stuff sticks in your brain.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She chuckles. “Yeah, I bet. Something for the brain bleach, no doubt.” She looks down at herself, then frowns. “I should get dressed. C’mon in.” She gestures her head toward the door to the room and then walks inside.

[Saschenka Neal] Brain bleach….? She mouths to herself, trying to figure that one out before Sarita motions for her to come inside. She pauses, surprised, before she follows after the other woman. “Sorry, didn’t mean to keep you outside undressed.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Oh, pssht.” She shrugs, walking over to a dresser and digging inside it. “Didn’t bother me none, but I gotta face the day at some point, right? Close the door, if you don’t mind.”

[Saschenka Neal] “No problem.”

The woman’s rage is negligible enough that she’s not entirely freaked out about being in a room with her with the door shut. So she shuts the door at the woman’s request, though she leans back against the wall near it.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She does have a lot of shame as she pulls out a new T-Shirt, stripping off her old one and putting the new one on. She finds a pair of jeans in the dresser as well and steps into them. “So, how’re you finding the city so far?”

[Saschenka Neal] Politely, very politely, she averts her eyes as the other woman changes. “… busy. Mostly busy, so far. With more kin, then trueborn.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Yeah, there are a lot of kin around here.” She runs her fingers through her hair, straightening it, then picks up her duster and slips it on. “The Garou aren’t as prevalent around the Brotherhood, but you’ll find them. Good lot, for the most part. Only a couple dicks.”

[Saschenka Neal] “I’ll take your word for it.” She almost asks who she should avoid, and then thinks better then not. After a moment, like it’s a natural jump in conversation, “Are there a lot of Silver Fangs?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Mmm…” She frowns and thinks. “One, two…three kinfolk that I know of, you included. Three True that I’ve met; Katherine, Asha–also part of the pack–and Matthieu.”

[Saschenka Neal] The names are committed to memory- Asha, and Matthieu. Derek is the other kin which only leaves one other Silver Fang unaccounted for. It’s more then she thought but less then she feared, so… not terrible, but not ideal. “And Katherine is the Tribe Elder, for the Caern?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “That’s right,” she says with a nod. “She’s a Fostern, Asha and Matthieu are Cliaths. Katherine’s also the Master of the Challenge.”

[Saschenka Neal] Fostern AND holding a position within the Caern itself. Wonderful. There’s a tiny shake of her head at something, a hand pushing back a flyaway hair before she nods. “Got it. Master of the Challenge. Philodox, I’m assuming?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Yep. You don’t earn the names ‘Truth’s Meridian” and “Honor’s Compass” as a Ragabash. Trust me, I’ve tried.” She throws Sasha a wink, before the look mellows some.

“Seriously, sweetie. I promise, you’ll be cool.”

[Saschenka Neal] Grey eyes watch Sarita for a moment or two before she smiles to her, nodding slightly. “I’m sure. And a Ragabash named Honor’s Compass would just be plain weird. I really have to admit.”

She shifts slightly, and then smiles sheepishly. “… I know my mannerisms give my tribe away, but I regret I’m not so great at gathering others tribe’s yet. I should have asked from the beginning to whom you’re with.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Ohhhh…” She blinks and now it’s her turn to look sheepish. She flops down on the bed, scooting to make room for Sasha. There’s also a chair nearby that was pulled out before Sasha got here, and Amy’s bed further across the room.

“Right, sorry. Amy and I are Silent Striders. My bad.”

[Saschenka Neal] She actually heads to the chair, nogt comfortable with sitting on someone elses bed. But she does sit, and her eyes get wide momentarily before she controls the reaction. “… I actually never met a Silent Strider. My brother told me one use to come by the Caern, up in Michigan, but… well, Kin didn’t go there.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She gives a little nod. “Lotta people never met one of us. Too much wandering itch running through our legs to stay in one place for the most part. I wandered a good nine years before I met Amy, and then we’ve been together a year before we got here last month.”

[Saschenka Neal] She smiles, faintly. “It’s good you have each other, at the very least.”

There is a pause, and she glance at her phone, wincing, and then standing. “… Sarita, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was so late. I should head home.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She smiles and waves off the apology. “No prob.” She pulls out her cell and texts the number that Sasha gave her earlier.

“There, you got my number. You need anything, don’t hesitate to call. Coo’?”

[Saschenka Neal] Surprise ripples across her face again at the offer, but she nods. “… yeah, thanks. Have a good night Sarita. It was really nice meeting you.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “You too.” A smile. “Take it easy. Don’t have too much fun.”

[Saschenka Neal] She does a soft laugh, nodding, and then slips out to head home.