strengths of the auspice.

[lukas]
The Ragabash isn't easy to find. That's fine; a note appears in the common room, tacked to the bulletin board. It reads:

Edwin,

I need a word with you.

-Lukáš

[edwin]
The note disappears from the common room bulletin board, its location unknown until Lukas next opens the door to his room in the Brotherhood. There it lays, his name written neatly atop the folded page in a clipped and simple printing.

Within, the note shows Lukas’ original message, with the following added below:

“Roof. Night.”

No closing, no true letter form to any of it. Just the two simple words…

[lukas]
At nightfall, Lukas is waiting on the rooftop, leaning against the brick wall of the stairwell and its attached shed.

The summer heat is oppressive and wet. There are stormclouds piled up over the lake, scattered over the sky. Rain is in the air, but no relief: tomorrow promises to be hotter than today.

The Shadow Lord is in short sleeves, a white button-down that he wears over light linen slacks; no watch. He looks like he belongs on some beach somewhere in the caribbean, in the south pacific. While he waits he has a book in hand, which he reads by the light of the moon with wolf senses.

The contents are in English, but the title reads only Преступление и наказание.

[edwin]
Time passes, night draws on. The summer heat in the city still stored within the concrete jungle was oppressive, sweltering. The moon cast its silver light down upon the city, as the dim light of dusk died into a fuller night.

Eventually, a blurry and indistinct form makes its way onto the roof. It was hard to follow, the sort of thing easily overlooked if you weren’t actually looking for it. The form moves from one shadow to the next, making its way along the various roof fixtures, until it stops in a pool of darkness near Lukas.

Then, the blurriness fades, and a man steps from the darkness. His clothing was as it always was: A simple pair of blue jeans, a dark tee shirt, and a pair of well-worn hiking boots. A navy baseball cap pulled low over sharp yet common and forgettable features… All of it easily found and replaced at any large chain store such as Wal-Mart or Target or the like.

A sly, lopsided grin plays about the man’s features, as dark eyes, blue perhaps, were cast continually in shadow from the rounded bill of the ball cap. For a few moments, he simply waits, leaning against one of the various roof obstructions, his eyes moving periodically to the moon and surrounding buildings.

Allowing Lukas to notice his presence on his own, without speaking... He made no sound, no movement at all really, save for that of his eyes within his sockets, and his scent was even to wolfen senses non-existent.


Rolls

[Edwin Morr]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 8, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 8 )
((Blur of the Milky Eye

Dex + Stealth + Fox Dice, diff = 8

Hail Kahseeno!))

[Edwin Morr]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 4, 4, 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6 ) Re-rolls: 1
((Sneaking around...

Dex + Stealth + Fox Dice, diff = 6; rerolls 10's

Hail Kahseeno!))

((Only modification from Jove was to add a space between the target number and the second parenthesis to avoid it interpreting them as smileys. Both rolls witnessed by Punkin))

[lukas]
(percep/alert roll as witnessed by veracity:

snail
Sun 9:23 pm
Roll valid
(percep/alert, diff 6 +3(blur) -2(partial shifted, wolfish!))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 1 at target 7)

mandrake, if you're around tomorrow, let's play real quick. The next part of the scene is probably best done on the boards, and then we can come back to forums!)

[lukas]
Edwin is a blur to most eyes, but either the Ahroun picked his waiting spot well, or Edwin's overly confident of his abilities, or ... simply isn't trying very hard. It doesn't matter. The results are the same. There's a flicker of movement in the dark. Lukas's eyes snap up off the page, lock onto Edwin.

They're ice-blue, cold, and -- this is important -- not angry in the slightest. Simply: controlled.

The Ahroun snaps the book crisply shut and lets it fall from his hand. Before it hits the ground Wyrmbreaker is on the attack. There's no explanation, though perhaps Edwin can fabricate a few in his mind.

(dicedicedice...)

When it's over, Edwin hits the ground unconscious and Wyrmbreaker backs off, lowering his bloodied muzzle to sniff at the spot on his side where the Ragabash's blade had sought and failed to find entry.

Reverting to homid, he picks the knife up off the ground, examines it by moonlight, and then throws it down beside Edwin. The wicked point sinks into the composite and tar of the roof. Lukas cleans his hands on the tail of his shirt, picks up his book, dusts it off, and resumes reading.

When Edwin wakes, the Ahroun sets his book aside again. He looks at Edwin frankly, dispassionately.

"I'm done showing off the strengths of my Auspice," he says. "Are you?"

[edwin]
When Edwin wakes, it happens slowly, like a scuba diver rising from dark ocean depths. First, there was the pain, of course… One doesn’t have a meeting like that without pain, and it would be a lie to say it didn’t catch the attention. Then, it was the other senses… Hearing, smell, touch…

But not vision.

Edwin had enough faculty left to wait for the other senses to get a good feel for his surroundings as best they could, before the eyes even begin to open. Then, once satisfied that he knew as much as he would without his eyes, only then do they open… Only then does he make any indication of wakefulness.

While Lukas talks, Edwin almost seems to take no notice for a few moments. First, his eyes move over his chest and limbs with a wry grin, shaking his head slightly as he sees the spurs. Then, one by one, he pulls them out… The lightest mumble of a grunt and a grimace as each was yanked out.

It’s only then, after a long sigh, do the narrowed eyes turn to appraise Lukas.

“Showin’ off, huh? Ain’t dat a peach…”

He chuckles wryly, shaking his head, before again returning the shaded blue eyes to Lukas.

“As fer done, reckon I’ll jes’ sit here a spell while we talk instead.”

He looks back over himself once more, as if making sure he hadn’t missed any of the spurs, and then begins pulling himself over to a nearby portion of the roof raised from the rest of the surroundings. He stops but a moment to retrieve the long-bladed fillet knife and replace it in its sheath, before continuing on his way.

After gaining a sitting position against the raised roof section, he takes a moment’s respite to wipe some sweat from his brow. Then, after replacing the navy baseball cap on his head, the No Moon again speaks.

“So… whudja wanna talk ‘bout?”

[edwin]
Ain't that a peach, Edwin says. Lukas smiles with the corners of his mouth alone, eyes cool.

"Every auspice has its strengths and weaknesses. Don't let pride for the former make you forget the latter."

A beat.

"And stay the fuck out of my territory."

The Ahroun doesn't move to stop Edwin as he retrieves his weapon, raises himself painfully to a sitting position. He doesn't move to aid or heal the other, either. But when Edwin asks what he wanted to talk about, Lukas's eyes turn thoughtful.

"Joe War-Handed," he replies, "and Agnessa Malikoff. And why you felt it was necessary to put a knife to the back of a Garou over a kinswoman who was, as far as I know, more startled than frightened, much less hurt. Were you showing off your new moon skills again, or did you have a reason I don't know about?"

[edwin]
“Oh, I’s always got a reason… Ain’t nuthin’ I do done fer it’s own sake.”

The No Moon’s eyes narrow in the darkness, his grin lopsided and wry. The gaze moves from Lukas to the skies overhead, as the flashing lights of a traffic helicopter meander past the Chicago skyline. Then, it returns to Lukas as he continues.

“Now den, as fer yer terr’tory, don’t reckon I seen signs anywhere I been whut tol’ me ‘twas yer pack’s stompin’ grounds. So, unless’n ya count me slidin’ dat note un’er yer door ta set up dis here meet ’n’ greet, I don’t rightly see’s how I’ve vi’lated it.”

At this Edwin pauses, again fixing Lukas with a curious gaze. Then, with a shrug, he continues.

“So far’s th’Get an’ th’widder are concerned, when I come up on ‘em, things wuz already headed South on the whole mess in a hurry.

Got reasons a’plen’y fer how I played dat hand, but I reckon it’ll save us both time if’n ya tells me whut ya already been tol’, so’s I can add to ‘r clarify, as th’case may be.”

Edwin spits out a mouthful of blood off to one side, before his lopsided grin turns sly once again.

“Whu’d th’Get have ta say, e’sactly?”

[lukas]
(shit. i misread your first post. for some reason i thought the note was laid on his bed! crap, lukas wouldn't have been quite so pissed then. errr. well. *red flash* moving on!)

"I'd rather hear it from your point of view," Lukas says, level-toned, "unbiased by whatever the Fenrir might've said."

[edwin]
Edwin nods, that sly grin never quite leaving his face. Eyes cast in perpetual shadow from the bill of his baseball cap consider the door to the roof and the city skyline for several moments before he answers.

“Fair ‘nough.

I’s in th’Brotherhood, an’ decided I’d poke ‘roun’ th’common room an’ see who’s there. I heard voices comin’ from th’laundry room upstairs, so I made m’way over to ‘em. Now, I di’n’t announce m’presence necessar’ly… I ruther prefer seein’ whut th’lay of th’land is, so’s ta speak, afore I stick m’neck out.

Anywho, I git dere jes’ in time ta see th’Get grab hold’a Nessa. Fella was drunk on ‘is own Rage from th’looks of it, an’ he was all but white-washin’ th’walls wit’ Lust. ‘Twas blinkin’ ruther a lot an’ starin’ at ‘is hand, which shook like a leaf in th'wind. Th’whole of it ta me added up ta him not e’sactly takin’ no fer an answer, assumin’ he even cared ta ask. Fella was clearly unbalanced, an’ wit’ ‘is Rage, a might dang’rous if’n not handled proper.

So, I reckoned ‘bout dat point I had me three options. I could do nuthin’, I could walk up so’s he could see me an’ ask ‘im ta stop, or I could do whut I done.”

Edwin pauses here, to spit out another mouthful of blood, before continuing…

“Doin’ nuthin’ weren’t no good; if’n I had, dere’s no doubt in my mind ‘is next step’d be rippin’ Nessa’s clothin’ off. I fig’red dat’d be an awful lotta trouble fer sumthin’ I could’a stopped, so it di’n’t make no sense ta me ta go dat route. Nessa’d be all outa sorts given ‘er take on ‘em already, you’d have yerself a Lit’ny transgression ta go sort out, an’ our tribe’s relations wit’ th’Get would git a might touchy fer a spell. All in all, a right perty train wreck ta deal wit’.

An’ whutever th’Get had ta say fer ‘imself on dat score, dere weren’t nuthin’ innocent ‘bout whut he had in mind next. Words can lie… Anatomy, not so much.

Walkin’ up so’s dey could see me weren’t no good neither.

First of all, ain’t no reason ta give up th’advantage of surprise unless’n yer gittin’ sumthin’ fer it. Ain’t nuthin’ in all th’wide world had fer free.

Second of all, given he’d already got ‘is hands on our kin, I fig’red he might jes’ attack soon’s he saw me… Fella was runnin’ on pure wolf instinct right den, an’ I needed ta do sumthin’ dat’d make ‘im think instead’a jes’ reactin’… Sumthin’ ta snap ‘im outta worryin’ ‘bout our kin and git him worried ‘bout sumthin’ else instead.

So, I done whut I done. I slipped up on ‘em from b’hind an’ put th’point’a m’knife ‘gainst ‘is back. When I did dat, th’ whole sit’ation changed. First off, fella started usin’ th’muscle ‘tween ‘is ears instead’a th’one ‘tween ‘is legs fer thinkin’. Got ‘im usin’ ‘is human side ta guide ‘im, instead’a th’wolf.

Once I had th’drop on ‘im, I tol’ ‘im ta hold still, an’ I tol’ Nessa ta git. Nessa walked off like I tol’ her, an’ I warned th’Get not ta pull dat stunt ‘gain. Once Nessa was free’n clear, I took m’knife off th’fella’s back an’ left ‘im in the laundry room all by ‘is lonesome ownsome.

Now, while I had th’drop on ‘im, th’feller said sumthin’… Sumthin’ ‘bout bait… Mebbe he’d reckoned ‘twas a setup from th’get go. Dat ain’t how ‘twas, an’ I did m’best ta disabuse ‘im of th’notion while we’s havin’ our li’l chat. If’n ‘tain’t an e’scuse ta salve he’s wounded pride, don’t reckon I can e’splain where he got th’notion.”

Here Edwin pauses again, his gaze tracks to the door to the roof and across the skyline once again. The whole of the motion was made with his eyes alone; neither his head, nor his neck, nor any other part of him moved beyond the rise and fall of his chest as he drew breath. In fact, aside from spitting periodically, Edwin really didn’t move at all while recounting past events… Save for his eyes…

“Truth be tol’, I reckon he owes us fer gettin’ outa dat scrape so cheap, if’n ya ask me. I kept ‘im from violatin’ th’Lit’ny afore he done it, from havin’ ta deal wit’ you after havin’ transgressed ‘gainst our tribe, an’ by gettin’ ‘im ta use he’s brain dis once, mebbe he smartens up a sight in th’future ta boot.

Mebbe it teaches ‘im he ain’t so invinc’ble as ‘is Rage makes ‘im feel… Allies whut think dey’s invinc’ble tends ta git folks ‘roun’ ‘em kilt.

So ya see, I got ever’body out of it ‘thout a scratch, dealt wit’ th’sit’ation, an’ if’n he flaps his gums ta ‘is tribesmen, we come out smellin’ like roses. An’ all wit’ as li’l bother fer you as I could manage.

As reasons go, I got a whole stack of ‘em ta e’splain why I done whut I done. If’n ya really wanna hear ‘em, I’ll be more’n happy ta go through each an’ ever’ one of ‘em wit’ ya…

But given whut I run inta, an’ seein’ th’results… I’ll argue th’way things ended up ‘twas a perty tidy solution, all told.”

[lukas]
"Tidy solution," Lukas echoes. There's a touch of disbelief there. For a second he stares at Edwin. He looks -- well; baffled, if anything. "You call putting a knife to the back of a Fenrir Ahroun on a full moon a tidy solution. You call openly threatening a Garou of another tribe because he put his hand on a kinswoman's shoulder a tidy solution. You think you defused the situation and came out on top. You think he was about to rip her goddamn clothes off and rape her. You actually think you did your Tribe a favor.

"You're lucky Joe War-Handed let this blow by without so much as a stir. You're lucky he's too honorable, too ashamed or too stupid to call you out before the Sept. You're lucky he didn't turn around, tear your face off, and then drag your ass before the Sept. And you're damn lucky he didn't Frenzy and tear her face off.

"You jumped the gun. You went too far, too soon. Whatever you may think the Fenrir may or may not have done, you have no proof. You have nothing but your word against his. And if the two of you stand up before the Sept, what they'll see is this:

"Joe War-Handed, who put his hand on my kin and then came directly to me -- exactly as I asked at the last moot -- to settle his debt then and there. Who says he never meant to scare our kin, who says he never would have hurt her.

"Edwin Leaves-No-Trace, who was once part of a pack murdered its own Alpha in this very Sept. Who put a knife to the back of this Fenrir for touching a kin not even under his protection, but under mine.

"And Agnessa Malikoff, a kin so troublesome her own brother put her under lock and key. A kin well known for strutting around this place half-naked, all but delivering herself up on a platter to whomever the hell wants a piece. A kin who already bore one bastard child, and to our glorious Fenrir Wyrmfoe no less.

"You tell me who they're going to believe."

A beat.

"And that's just the political crap associated with this little incident. More to the point: what the hell were you thinking? Is it really worth provoking a tribal war within the Sept when the Wyrm's crawling up our asses? Is it worth it just because some horny Fenrir kid was eyeing a kin who can't keep her legs shut?

"Where are your priorities?"

Another.

"Agnessa Malikoff is not your concern. Unless you want to challenge for her, she's mine, and so are the rest of Thunder's kin. Unless they're in immediate, visceral danger, you don't act. You call me. I'll deal with it. And believe me, if anyone actually hurts one of our kin, I'll make such an example of him that no one will ever dream of it again."

[edwin]
“A’ight… Reckon dat’s yer prerogative.

But seein’s how it’s th’job of me’n mine ta make snap decisions in th’field, I acted as seemed best accordin’ ta m’auspice. Reckon I’d also be remiss in m’duties if’n I di’n’t take a moment ta make uh point ‘r two whiles I’m at it.”

Edwin just watches Lukas for a few moments, before spitting another mouthful of blood off to the side. In the moonlight it almost looked like the brown streaks of chewing tobacco spit… The vibrancy of red diminished in the silver light, leaving it a dull maroon brown against the grey of the Brotherhood’s roof. Then, Edwin’s eyes return to the other Shadow Lord, that lopsided grin still on his face. Sly to a fault…

“Yer getting’ mighty worked up over trouble whut ain’t likely ta happen. Dere’s a whole slew’a reasons fer ‘im not ta do dat. Top uh th’list is th’fact he done come ta you ta make right; dat tells me he knows we got ‘im by th’throat on dis. It’s an admission uh guilt, an’ any proceedin’ at th’Sept in dis regard ain’t gonna miss dat.

Also, Joe got ruther sore ‘bout havin’ yers truly git th’drop on ‘im. He even invented dat I’d intended ta trap ‘im all along. Dat means he’s proud… Egocentric. Fellers like dat ain’t big on recountin’ their failin’s. Fellers like dat hate admittin’ when dey lose.

Assumin’ he does flap ‘is gums, it’ll fall ta th’Truthcatcher ta figure whut’s whut. An’ th’Truthcatcher jes’ happens ta be a mem’er of our tribe. I can’t see’s how he’s like ta take kindly ta some horny Get puttin’ ‘is mitts on our kin.

When th’Truthcatcher starts askin’ questions, all whut needs done ta settle it is ta ask ‘im point blank whut ‘is intentions was, an’ if’n ‘is hands was on ‘er. He gits asked dat, won’t nob’dy won’er whut happened, ‘cause it’ll be wrote all over ‘is face.

As fer me, I’s been as open an’ honest ‘bout th’whole shebang as I can. Any Half Moon worth ‘is stuff’ll read me like an open book in dis.

Knowin’ all dat, I reckon he’ll be wantin’ discretion as much’r more’n we do. ‘Thout him talkin’, ain’t nob’dy th’wiser… An’ th’whole discussion blows over nice’n quiet.”

Edwin shrugs, his eyes moving to the traffic helicopter again, before returning to Lukas.

“As fer tribal warfare, ain’t ya overreactin’ a bit? Th’Get gotta know by now dat fightin’ th’Wyrm alone’s a losin’ battle. They needs us jes’ as much’s we needs dem. So, some li’l spat where nob’dy even got a scratch an’ nuthin’ save dis feller’s pride was even troubled, whutever th’circumstance, ain’t gonna count fer much.

Dey might even fig’re it fer just deserts, given dat he tried ta claim Jarl last moot afore even askin’ whuther th’position’d already been filled. An’ by whom…

Dat bein’ th’case, don’t rightly see’s how dis’ll stir up tribe war anytime soon.”

Then, Edwin grins that lopsided grin before starting on a new tack.

“Now den, since ya done went diggin’ up th’sins ‘a days past, I reckon ’s only fair fer me ta speak ta it… Even if’n whut I knows ain’t public knowledge, necessar’ly.

Th’Sept’s already seen ta my shortcomin’s. Ain’t gonna make no e’scuses on m’own account.

If’n mine’s th’path uh villainy, I’ll jes’ hafta live wit’ dat.

But as fer Nessa, I’d argue some mitigatin’ circumstance ain’t been accounted fer…

She was three sheets ta th’wind wit’ tribemates on th’Mile mere hours afore th’ main event. Anudder kin name’a Diana Sterlin’ wuz s’posed ta see ‘er home safe but flubbed th’job.

So, tack some liquor ta fuzz th’brain onta whutever ‘twas th’Wyrmfoe done… Don’t rightly see as ‘twas her fault. Nevermin’ dat I’s seen other tribes go carvin’ funny fig’res in th’chests of garou fer quite a bit less.

An’ if’n ‘er wardrobe’s an invite… Hell, by dat meas’rin’ stick, half th’kin in Chicago’s jes’ beggin’ fer it.”

At this, Edwin chuckles quietly… As though he found something funny. Then, his quiet laughter dies… His lopsided grin returning as he becomes more serious.

“Regardless, I got enough sense not ta argue wit’ ya ‘bout how ya want sit’ations ‘a dis sort handled further down th’road.”

At this, Edwin grows silent. Shadowed blue eyes just watch the Shadow Lord Alpha curiously, as if to see what effect his words had upon the other lord.

[lukas]
Lukas watches the other. He listens. He waits. His cold eyes flicker down to the Ragabash's mouth as he grins his lopsided, everpresent grin; again as he laughs. Lukas's face doesn't change at all. He clearly fails to see the humor in the situation.

When the Ragabash is finished, there's a brief silence.

"You're good at spinning stories, Leaves-No-Trace," Lukas's tone is flat and hard, "but that's all you're doing. You've managed to conjure up a hundred contingencies and explanations that all rest on the same flawed assumption: that things would happen exactly as they had.

"When you pulled that knife, you had no way of knowing how this would play out. Nothing you've said changes that fundamental truth. Nothing you've said even shows me you understand that.

"Everything you've given me has been hindsight -- or wild optimism. You got lucky. Things could have easily gone a less favorable way. That you don't seem to recognize this makes this about more than just kin and tribe. That you don't even consider the possibility proves just how reckless, careless and arrogant you are. And those are dangerous things to be when it's your pack's purpose is to scout and infiltrate the Wyrm."

Lukas's eyes hard and fixed on Edwin, unflinching, unrevealing. A moment rolls by.

Then, "Go. Think about how you've erred and what was said tonight. I'll consider that," a nod at the blood on the roof, "your penance this time.

"Don't let there be a repeat. Neither Thunder's Judgment nor the Wyrm are as lenient as you seem to think."

[edwin]
“Fair ‘nough…”

Edwin makes his way to standing without another word, and walks to the stairwell leading back into the Brotherhood proper. Once upon the stairs, he stops and seems to concentrate for a few minutes…

His form melts into nothingness, slipping sideways…

Gone.