dinner and a battle.

[Administrator] Lukas, welcome to Magnificent Mile (North Side) (Night)

[Administrator] Danicka, welcome to Magnificent Mile (North Side) (Night)

[Lukas] Danicka's phone rings. When she picks up, it's Lukas.

"Hey," he says; his tone is warm. There's subdued conversation in the background; the clink of silverware on ceramic. "I just thought I'd call."

[Danicka] It takes Danicka three rings before she picks up the phone and sets it to her ear. It's relatively quiet in her background, but not silent: there's the movement of air, as though she's outside, the distant sounds of the city. "Hey," she says, a smile in her tone. Then a beat, and he can imagine her grinning behind her amused and dubious question: "Seriously?"

[Lukas] There's a quiet huff of a laugh. "Yeah." Pause. He could explain himself; he doesn't in the end. "Also, I forgot to give you your book."

[Danicka] "You did," she all but purrs, his mention of it a reminder of the book as well as sparking other, tangential thoughts that spin out to nowhere, eventually. "So I take it you'd like to see me, too."

[Lukas] A second, quieter laugh. "I would've been glad just to call and then drop the book in your mailslot, Danička." A pause. "Why, are you free to be seen?"

[Danicka] "I don't have a mailslot, Lukášek," is her mild return. "You'd have to actually use postage. Or something. Regardless!" And he can imagine her waving her hand here if he wants, but it's unlikely that he will, since he has never once seen Danicka talk with her hands, even for the sake of casting a flourish over her words. "And for you, miláčku, of course."

[Lukas] This time the laugh is easily audible. "Well," he begins -- then there's a shifting -- perhaps he's turning to look over his shoulder, off to the side, somewhere. Some voices in the background, whirr of machinery as well now; a full-service cafe somewhere? She can hear Lukas saying no thank you, I'm fine, and then coming back.

He picks up as though he'd never been interrupted, "I'm having a late dinner at the Brasserie Jo, just off the Mile. Do you want to join me?"

[Lukas] (yeah, delete the line about the cafe. i obviously changed my mind as to where he was several times. *LOL*)

[Administrator] Sam Modine, welcome to Magnificent Mile (North Side) (Night)

[Danicka] He has to wait a few seconds before receiving an answer, and then Danicka laughs, briefly and lightly, more of a huff of surprise than anything else. "...Sure. I'll be there in about ten minutes."

With that, the call is ended. And sure enough, 'about' ten minutes later (it's actually more like eight), Danicka is walking into the restaurant wearing...well, exactly what she was wearing earlier today. Her hair is slightly windblown, her cheeks pink, as she starts unbuttoning her coat.

"I'm meeting someone," she informs the hostess, and in no time directs herself towards the table where the tall drink of water with the bright blue eyes is sitting.

[Administrator] Tequilla sunset, welcome to Magnificent Mile (North Side) (Night)

[Administrator] Tequilla sunset has left Magnificent Mile (North Side)

[Administrator] The Universe. , welcome to Magnificent Mile (North Side) (Night)

[Administrator] cricket, welcome to Magnificent Mile (North Side) (Night)

[Lukas] The Brasserie, it turns out, is the sort of place with white tablecloths and subdued lighting, furnished in forest greens and dark, woodsy tones. Lukas has a table near the back, which is not surprising; he also has a table that's surrounded by several other empty tables, which is also not surprising.

It is getting near closing time, but this sort of establishment is far too courteous to bar Danicka's entrance, much less attempt to oust its last few dining patrons. When Danicka finds Lukas' table, he has a half-eaten rack of lamb and a few rib-bones in front of him, as well as a bottle of cab. He finishes chewing, wipes his mouth and his hands quickly but unsurreptitiously on his napkin, and stands up as she comes up to the table.

"That was quick," he says, smiling. "I haven't even had a chance to go out to the car yet."

Her coat is unbuttoned by then and he slips it off her shoulders; lays it over the chair he pulls out for her. Other men would do this as a pretense, with awkwardness, or with an overt awareness of their own chivalry. For Lukas, however, this seems utterly natural, thoughtless, even casual -- as though he was taught from an early age to take the lady's coat and draw out the lady's chair when dining.

Which, of course, he probably was.

As he's retaking his seat, it abruptly occurs to him that this is the first time he's seen her in public for ... some time now. It occurs to him that, excepting the takeout they had at the W, this is the first time they've had dinner together.

He's in the same clothes he was in earlier today, though minus the tie now. His collar is open, and his shirt not so crisp; he looks relaxed, pleased to see her. He's had a couple glasses of good french wine and some good food, and he's content, lounging a little in his chair.

"Do you want anything? -- Could we have an extra place setting here, please?" There's a waiter passing, and though Lukas is polite, well-spoken, the man tenses visibly when addressed. "Thank you," Lukas adds all the same.

[Sam Modine] [Alertness.]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 4, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[The Universe.] The moon was on the rise.

The moon was on the rise and Sam Modine felt something crawl across his senses. Felt something bite and make his skin itch like a bug bite. Left his eyes stinging like being around onions soaked in nail polish remover. Something stuck to his senses like wet garbage.

And he saw the man from across the street, moving as though his world was miserable. Moving as though his job was a pain and his life was miserable and... stiff legged. Stiff backed. He had his jacket coat pulled up over his face. His mouth held firmly shut.

Who knew how long Sam had been following him, and he would have dealt with the problem earlier, except for one thing. Or, rather, a second thing. call it his instincts of the knowledge on the back of his mind...

Something was following him. This shambling mass was leading him somewhere.

[Danicka] She's dressed in boots that have a much lower heel than usual -- not even a full inch -- and dark-washed jeans that hug her lean hips and probably cost her a solid ninety dollars or so. Up top she's wearing a crisp button-down white shirt with thin silver stitch-stripes, the tails of which are untucked. Over that is a snug red sweatervest revealed bit by bit as she unbuttons the black revere coat she has on over it.

This seems like something she would go shopping or sight-seeing in, not wear out to dinner, but Danicka doesn't look remotely uncomfortable. With the way she carries herself, the looks she draws -- and she does draw them -- are appreciative and glancing. She does not disturb anyone. She does not look out of place. Strangely, she never does. Whatever that 'it' is that makes someone fit easily into just about any situation and any grouping, Danicka has it. She can make people around her comfortable no matter what she is wearing, no matter where they are, and a great deal of that talent and skill seems tied up in her smile, which is warm, and seems friendly, except that right now it's trained on one person, and not the room at large.

He stands as she approaches, and this neither startles nor offends her. Danicka in fact turns just so to let him take her coat off and lay it over her chair. He seems like this was trained into him; her comfort with the gesture is equal, and just as thoughtless. She knows that he was taught from an early age, saw his manners being conditioned even before he could translate certain niceties into English.

"I was at BIlly Goat's," she says with a wry curve to her mouth. "It's about a five-minute walk east of here."

She sits, her eyes bearing that bright, sparkling light they do when she's had a few. "Whatever you're drinking," she answers thoughtfully, setting her purse down by her feet out of the path of both waitstaff and other diners, "annnd..." she hasn't seen the menu, so she elongates the word, glancing at another table, "quiche lorraine." She does this quickly, before the waiter can scurry off, and smoothly, as though she is used to acting like she practically lives in a place she's never been before, and when the waiter does indeed hurry away from their table -- from Lukas -- she looks across the table and smiles at the Ahroun as though, well...as though he isn't one.

"I saw you earlier today."

[Lukas] She wants a glass of whatever he's drinking -- "Of course," he says, with a smile and a slow blink, the former startlingly engaging and warm, the latter ... somehow not quite human. "I wouldn't hog the wine."

And quiche lorraine. And the waiter leaves. And they sit, and she looks across the table, and he's just watching her over his food, because even though he was clearly eating before she got here he isn't so impolite as to continue to scarf down his meal while she waited for her. Her eyes are bright, which means she's already had a few, and his eyes are -- well, the way are when he looks at her like this, like he's glad to see her, and likes to look at her.

"Oh yeah?" His eyebrows rise a little. The moon is small and he's just a little buzzed, relaxed; the smiles come easily. "Where?"

The waiter drops off her place setting at the table, laying out the knives and the forks and the plates and the glasses with a little more haste than usual. When he departs Lukas sits up and leans forward to fill her wineglass, ending with an expert turn of his wrist that catches the last drop on the rim.

He sets the bottle down, leans back again.

[Sam Modine] Rage pours thickly around him and it's as though what thin pedestrian crowd he passes through doesn't exist. Even to the human beings who pass all about him who cannot sense the greatness in his lineage, the strong touch of the celestines who'd blessed his birth; can still sense a sort of dreadful greatness about him. A keystone predator from a time in prehistory they can't remember except in their bones. A dark warrior infused with the righteous power of the moon itself.

He continues tailing the shifting, shambling man shape though, not letting his pace speed or slow, like a ventriliquist shadow, thrown down the street. He looks about for something reflective though flicking his eyes back and forth without moving his neck any more than to trace the movements of the thing in front of him. He's searching for a good look, an easy way to turn he strategy against the two.

But so far there's nothing.

So Sam finds them as they move along all he really has to do is wait. And from the way his muscles riple and relax across his whole form as that bright hair makes a glaring halo under a streetlight.

[Danicka] "Not far from here, actually," Danicka answers, sitting mostly straight in her chair but leaning back slightly, rather than leaning onto the table. This isn't that sort of place. Her legs are crossed at the ankle underneath the table, tucked to one side as she would sit if she were wearing a skirt. "Over by Saint Michael's."

There's a beat of a pause, a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth, and a veritable twinkle of amusement in her eyes that was certainly not there earlier in the day. "You were yelling at someone."

Danicka is finishing her answer as the waiter comes back, and makes eye contact with him, gives him the smile that previously was just living at the edges of her expression. She does not have the ability to calm people down with a glance, but she can at least -- and very easily -- distract him for a moment. It's about as much kindness as is in her, as far as most people in Chicago are concerned. Lukas pours, and she seems to expect this, her smile fading when its time is up. As he leans back in his chair again she reaches for the glass, lifts it, and casually taps it against the edge of his glass. It's not quite a proper toast, but it's also not her first drink, or his.

She sips.

[The Universe.] (throw me a per+alertness, diff 7 for sam, 8 for Danicka and Lukas)

[Lukas]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 6, 7, 10 (Success x 1 at target 8)

[Sam Modine] [Alertness again.]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 4, 5, 7, 9 (Success x 2 at target 7)

[Lukas] His smile turns into a grin; the the grin turns a little wry.

"She was beating the shit out of someone that turned out to be family," he says. He doesn't say it expecting her approbation, or her awe, or ... anything, really. He tells her because he doesn't mind telling her, and that's the end of it.

He doesn't ask her why she didn't come over and say hi, either. That much seems self-explanatory. Their glasses clink. Neither of them offer up a toast, but the gesture is strangely familiar, as is the way they drink afterward in silence.

Then Lukas catches sight of something out of the corner of his eye. He turns his head to look, and all at once there's a certain alertness about him, though he doesn't move; barely even blinks.

Want some backup, Mjollnir?

[Danicka] [Perception (Apprehensive) + Alertness]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 6, 6, 6, 6, 7 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[The Universe.] The problem was a simple one: there was an agent of the wyrm, obviously, standing right in front of Samuel Modine. And, presumably, one at his back as well. The issue here, of course, was the fact that it was keeping to the main streets and was too. Damned. Stupid. to be anything but in its own world.

He was being downright difficult, actually. Which would imply that maybe this creature was a little smarter than it seems. Or, rather, that something else might be orchestrating this whole event.

Whatever it was, it wasn't really that important. Because there was a minion of the wyrm on the street, another at Sam's back that remained unseen, and the shambling mess of a former man slowed...

his chest pulsed...

bones cracked...

and his stomach bulged. It gurgled out some horribly pained noise... it smiled. The sound was almost triumphant.

[Danicka] There is no appropobation or awe, just mild interest, as before. The blonde across from Lukas sips her wine and quirks an eyebrow up as though this is mildly amusing, and nothing more. Her interest is surface-level only, really, as far as the ins and outs of Family Business are concerned. No one can accuse her of being an altruist, of being deeply invested in the lives of most people, or even -- to be blunt -- giving a shit if some other Kin of her Tribe has the shit beat out of him on a sidewalk when she doesn't know him from Adam and didn't even recognize him as the 'G' that proclaimed her and Liadan to be 'visions'.

This is not the only time Lukas and Danicka have clinked glasses and drank before, but the other time it was vodka, and they did not sip so much as slam, and yet there had been no toast that time, either.

As he turns his head, Danicka just takes another long sip, rolling the liquid around in her mouth to taste it thoroughly before swallowing. She glances over the rim of her glass just before setting it down on the tablecloth, and sees the way his manner has changed eversoslightly. She knows that look, and does not say a word, but turns and looks out the window in the direction he glanced.

[Sam Modine] Maybe. I think something's following me. The reply begins over the totem connection and the lanky figure outside the windows scans the upper levels of building and some of the window near hip with a few quick flicks of his head.

Like he's just heard something but cannot entirely place it's source. As though he isn't following anyone. Don't think he doesn't use the opportunity to take a look back. Still nothing. Is it you, Luke? But his eyes do not long leave the prey he's tracking through street full of the late crowd merely looking to get home. Not looking to get face to face with the war for their world.

Innocents always make it harder.

The thing in front of him began to shift, to slow, and then it begins to scream out some awful irrepeatable noise. Sam prepares for the worst, bearing the wolf's gift for the creature to turn upon when it decides to stop.

[Activating Visage of Fenris, rolling Chr+Int.]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 4, 7, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Lukas] No. Lukas's mindvoice is calm, but beneath it is a steel cable of tension. It's not me behind you. I'll be there in a second.

Danicka, watching from the outside, can see the Ahroun's face drawing taut; can see all the relaxation and contentment of the moments before evaporating like water on a desert highway. He turns back to her and he's getting to his feet, folding his napkin carelessly and tossing it atop his half-eaten rack of lamb; getting his wallet out and placing an American Express card next to his fork.

"We need to leave." There's no drama in this; he doesn't expect approbation or awe here, either. Or hysteria. "Sam's outside. There's at least two hostiles on him; maybe more." He's holding her coat for her, and when she's in it he takes her arm and flanks her toward the door. "Where's your car?"

They're passing their confused waiter -- Lukas tells the man, "We have to go. I'm sorry. I left my credit card on the table; charge everything to it. I'll be back to pick it up tomorrow," and doesn't break stride, and by the end of it he's at the door and pushing it open and stepping aside for Danicka to exit, and his eyes are scanning up the street to see if he can see this second hostile that Sam thinks might be there.

[Administrator] cigarette butt, welcome to Magnificent Mile (North Side) (Night)

[The Universe.] The creature in front of Sam growled, but the sound didn't come from its lips. Its mouth, in fact, was held slack and its eyes looked almost dead. It had the face of a parasitic twin- it laughed, it cried, it spoke only vaguely, but it was not where the primary focus was.

The creature's stomach rumbled more; they were only a few yards away from an alleyway. It was about to get very, very dangerous very... very quickly. Sam knew that something was on to him. Sam knew, how that it was not Lukas behind him. The minions of the wyrm, however, did not wait. They did not hesitate, and instead seemed more than willing to start this battle wherever it was.

And the Fenrir, from his position, noticed there was a shadow behind him. Over him. And if he turned he would notice what was following him.

[Danicka] Looking out the window, Danicka sees nothing more than the dim reflections of herself, and the Shadow Lord across from her. She sees the glinting lights that hang over the tables, and nothing more. Not Sam, not any other passerby. Turning back to Lukas and looking at him, she sees a great deal more, and something cold and tense crawls slowly up her spine, a spring winding tight. She is reaching down to pick up her purse before he finishes saying

We need to leave.

There's no rush in this; she could just as easily be getting something out of her purse in the assumption that he's headed to the restroom for a minute. But when he confirms verbally that whatever this nigh entails no longer involves Brasserie Jo, Danicka grabs the handles of her purse and picks it up, pushes her chair back, and is standing by the time he gets her coat off the chair. Danicka moves without hurry or terror, her face a placid mask of calm. That is, ultimately, the epitome of leadership as much as lying: if you are in control, the people around you will be in control.

Danicka shifts her purse easily from hand to hand as she gets her arms into her sleeves, sweeps her hair out from under her collar, and begins walking. This time she does not pull her arm out of his grasp and replace it. This time he is not guiding her. The root of his body language just to the side of her is completely, elementally different, and she knows it for what it is.

"Back at Billy Goat's," she answers simply, and does not look at the waiter as they pass. She is tense, and Lukas can feel it in her arm, but she isn't trembling.

Yet.

[Sam Modine] [Str+Ath\\Take THIS! WP.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6) [WP]

[Sam Modine] Wherever you are, you'd better hurry because something thinks it just got the drop on me.

He thinks it and almost immediately sets into doing something proactive about this; making fleeting thought into formed thought into plan into action. Two feet begin to double time on the pavement, closing quickly on the shambling thing which now walks at an infuriating plod. His arm lurches forward and he grabs the offending thing by the collar of it's bulky black coat and lifts at the knees the other hand grabbing near what would normally be the small of it's back.

It's all timed for the mouth of that alley. Something's getting thrown in. Something else is getting the full glory of him too, as he turns around with teeth bared to face it. There have been no words through this whole exchange, though surely some of the pedestrians have thrown a look to the strange man who just threw what looked like a whole person between those two buildings. Lifted him in the air and turned back as though someone else had grabbed hold of him.

He faces his enemy a terror, and murmurs a low mantra in a language he doesn't quite understand.

[1 WP for resist pain]

[Lukas] (percep/alert)
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 4, 9, 10

[Danicka] [Second Verse, Same As The First]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 4, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10 Re-rolls: 2

[Sam Modine] [Alertness\\6]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 9 (Failure at target 6)

[Lukas] Lukas's head turns left; then right. He sees one shambling creature in front of Sam. He sees a second behind Sam. He sees nothing else.

The Shadow Lord's face is ice and stone: utterly steady, utterly calm, utterly in control. That's what anyone would see if they looked at him, anyway.

"Okay," low. "Give me your keys."

And while she's reaching for them, Lukas reaches into his pocket with his free hand and extracts his own keys, which he presses into Danicka's palm.

"Take my car. I'm parked there," he points without looking; she can see his car about half a block away. "Get in, lock the doors, and get the hell out of here. Go to the Brotherhood. I'll call you in ten minutes. Go."

The last word is firm, not a shout. He takes off then; he doesn't even pretend that everything's normal. The Ahroun is off like a shot, sprinting across the street into the alley, where he'll grow to monstrous size and stand back-to-back with Sam.

[Lukas] (while running: fatal flaw on tall man)
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 2, 2

[The Universe.] (one moment, gotta get a post for danicka)

[Lukas] (this is a manip/subt roll!)
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
to Danicka

[Danicka] [Perception + Empathy: OIC Whut U Did Thur]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 3, 5, 6, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6) Re-rolls: 3
to Lukas

[Danicka] [WHAT ARE YOU VOMITING?]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 6, 6, 7, 7 (Success x 1 at target 7)
to Lukas

[Lukas] (+8)
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4 (Failure at target 6)

[Sam Modine] 9+
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2

[Danicka] Walking out of the restaurant with Lukas, Danicka sees not only the man she called the brother of Lukas's soul but something else. Fear twists inside her chest along with revulsion, but as was seen earlier today: she knows when to look away, to not make eye contact, to keep walking.

Almost mindlessly she gets her keys out of her pocket -- not her purse -- and passes them over, taking his keys in her other hand and looking at him, but she is thinking about something else, and does not read him right now, not at all. Danicka gives him a single nod in response to his orders, because that is what they are, but then she talks over him while he is saying he'll call her:

"Watch the mouth; go for the joints."

Danicka doesn't look at his eyes but wraps her fingers around his keys, turns on her heel, and walks with long strides towards the Lincoln. She doesn't look back. And she does what he says: gets in the car, locks the doors, gets the hell out.

[The Universe.] Top: +6 - 1 = 5
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 6

[The Universe.] Bottom: +4 - 1 = 3
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4

[The Universe.] Tall man: +8 - 1 (because subtracting 1 is fun!)
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8

[Lukas] (looks like inits are...
tall man
lukas
sam
top
bottom)

[The Universe.] (okay, declares are going to be short, sweet, and to the point, as that it's getting kind of late)

[The Universe.] The thing underneath its host's shirt seemed to pulsate and grumble and gurgle. the fabric seemed to tear and the little monstrosity reared its ugly head. Literally, it looked as though the male had been cloned and it was trying to press its way through his stomach. A pudgy face, squat arms, and sharp... sharp teeth.

It screeched. The sound, for all it was, was disturbing.

[The Universe.] (declare being: taunting Sam!)

[The Universe.] The creature on top, however, seemed more content to try and attack the Fenrir from behind. It was dumb, it was slow, and, therefore, had very little idea that its uncomplicated little world was about to become very confusing very quickly.

(declare: try and smack Sam)

[Sam Modine] Oh. That. Is. Gross.

Action 1a. Attack Tall man (punch)
Action 1b. Dodge the top guy
Rage Action 1 Attack tall man (kick)

[Lukas] (1 wp --> resist pain
1 rage --> hispo
splitting first action, +2 rage for actions, holding all actions to attack tall man (preliminary declare: 4 targeted bites to the joints))

[The Universe.] tall man-
standard: split: 1- clawing the fenrir, 2: trying to pick up the shadow lord.
equivalent-of-rage-action: if picked up, then throwing.

[The Universe.] (rolling.
dex+brawl= 8
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 4, 4, 8, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[The Universe.] (damage strength+5)
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 3, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[Sam Modine] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 4, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[The Universe.] (aaaand attempting to grab Lukas)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 6, 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Lukas] (bite 1a, +2 diff)
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 7) Re-rolls: 2

[Lukas] (sorry, too many dice. rerolling)
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 8, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 7) Re-rolls: 1

[Lukas] (damage)
Dice Rolled:[ 15 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 11 at target 6)

[The Universe.] SOAK!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 3, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Lukas] (bite 1b)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7) Re-rolls: 1

[Lukas] (damage)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)

[The Universe.] Soak?
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Sam Modine]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5

[Sam Modine] [Switching 1b action to knee the bottom dude in his face. +1 diff for switching, +1 diff for kick. Switching Rage action to punch top guy at +1 diff]

[Sam Modine] 1b [Kick, Brawl -3 diff 8]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 5, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)

[Sam Modine] [Damage\\ Str+1+1]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 6, 6, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[The Universe.] (soak!)
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 7, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[The Universe.] (thwap. dex+brawl)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 5, 5, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[The Universe.] (damage:
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 5, 5, 6, 6, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[Sam Modine] 1a[Dodge -2]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[The Universe.] Taunting
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Sam Modine] [Rage, diff 7]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 5, 5, 6, 7 (Success x 1 at target 7)

[Lukas] (rage bite 1 -- +1 diff for changing target to bottom dude)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Lukas] (damage +2)
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[The Universe.] Soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 2, 4 (Botch x 1 at target 6)

[Sam Modine] Only Rage action [Punch// diff 7 for changed targets]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 7) Re-rolls: 1

[Sam Modine] [Damage, Str+5]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[The Universe.] (soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 4, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Lukas] (rage bite 2)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 8, 8, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[Lukas] (damage)
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 5, 6, 7, 7, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[The Universe.] bottom soak
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 4, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Lukas] (stamina)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 6, 8, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[Sam Modine] [Stamina]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[The Universe.] The tall creature leered downward at Sam, and with one large hand it raked across the Fenrir's chest. He did not flinch, he did not budge, he instead focused on his target. Samuel Modine was unshakeable. He did not notice the blood pouring from his chest, did not notice his ribs cracked, and did not notice his stomach feeling surprisingly light.

A lesser man would have fallen.
Sam is made of a different metal.

The creature turned its attention upon Lukas quickly, picking up the Shdow Lord and having very little intent on doing anything too nice with him. Wyrmbreaker doesn't move, and he does not seem deterred. In fact, it almost seems as though it was park of the plan. That he had weighed in, that he had been advised, and he knew what he was doing. And he bit into the shoulder joint. One good, hard bite and it took the tall man's arm off. It howled- it tasted like exhaust fumes and nail polish remover. And another bite? It seemed to be enough to kill the largest foe.

Wyrmbreaker came toppling down out of its arms. The body crumpled. The arms onthe ground were still twitching.

Samuel Modine, still visible to the public, turns a kick on the rather disturbing creature he had been tailing. there was a good, strong kick to the creature's stomach. It squeeled, the sound was agonized, but there none the less. Another hit to the creature and it looks downright queasy. The creature itself seems off-centered.

Lukas bites the monstrosity sprouting from the man's belly. It screaches and wails and screams, and he all but tears the little monster from its stomach. It tasted sickly sweet. That, oddly enough, was the most disturbing part.

The last creature, injured and seething, seems to be on its last leg.

[Sam Modine] 9+
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 6

[The Universe.] Top guy: +2 (oww, I'm missing a VESTIGIAL TWIN FROM MAH BELLY!)
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5

[Lukas] (10+)
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2 (Failure at target 6)

[The Universe.] (declare- take a clawing swing at Lukas (-1 WP to ignore wound penalties for a round))

[Lukas] (3 rage, 4 bites on that mofo and i don't care if i barf!)

[Administrator] cricket, welcome to Magnificent Mile (North Side) (Night)

[Sam Modine] (1a. Punch
1b. Punch
2. Rage Punt)

[The Universe.] (alrighties! roll it!)

[Sam Modine] [Punch -2]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[The Universe.] (soak)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 6, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Sam Modine] [Damage, Str +3]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 5, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Sam Modine] [Punch -3]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 5, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Sam Modine] [Damage. Str+1]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[The Universe.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 6, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Lukas] (bite)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 4, 6 (Failure at target 5)

[The Universe.] (clawing!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[The Universe.] Damage.
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 4, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Lukas] (soak!)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 6, 6, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Sam Modine] [Kick! WP.]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 7) [WP]

[Sam Modine] [Damage. Str+1+2]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 4, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[The Universe.] soak
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 5, 7, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Lukas] (rage bite 1)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 8 at target 5) Re-rolls: 2

[Lukas] (damage)
Dice Rolled:[ 16 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[The Universe.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 7, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Lukas]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 5, 7 (Botch x 1 at target 8)

[Lukas] (lukas: "Yum, this tastes great! *BITE* *BITE*")

[Lukas]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 5)

[Lukas] (damage)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 3, 3, 3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[The Universe.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 6, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[The Universe.] (damage)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 6, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Lukas]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[The Universe.]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 5, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Sam Modine] [Stamina]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 3, 6, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Lukas]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 6, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 8)

[The Universe.] (for shits and giggles, let's see if Kahseeno would have smitten damon for the next roll...)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10, 10

[The Universe.] Sam swung a punch at the creature, getting his knuckles dirty with something that looked like blood but seemed to have the consistency of honey. The fomor didn't flinch, but then the second punch seemed to have the same effect. He did not feel pain, but he seems to have come across an enemy who didn't seem to feel too much either.

Lukas snapped at the fomor, and it did no good. And while it raked its nails down the Shadow Lord's back, he felt no pain, and it seemed to be nothing more than a nuissance. Sam gave it a good, strong kick. Hard enough that it hit the wall nearby and collapsed. It was enough to set the fomor.

It takes two good bites before its dead.

And then? Then the fomor falls down, nothing more than a pile of goo and what used to be human flesh. The scene is utter carnage. Samuel Modine looks like Hell, but he's going to live. And Lukas? Well, he gives the carcass a good, long look...

And that's it. No desire to continue biting [Eating.]

[Lukas] Rage is still bristling around the black Hispo like electricity. He steps back, one paw at a time, licking his bloody (honeyed) maw before --

-- he turns away and retches abruptly, mouth wide open, a long trail of slaver running from upper lip to ground.

They haven't touched him. But all the same, there's a burn inside him like the worst sort of heartburn; internal injuries lesioning their way across his digestive tract like stigmata. When the initial sting is past the Hispo's fur is on end, his ears flat against his head, tail drooping with discomfort.

Mjollnir's Heart is in bad shape, but he's already starting to heal. Wyrmbreaker musters himself and lowers his head to sniff at the mess, whuffing out once after.

Come on. Let's grab trophies and leave this filth in the dumpsters. If we split it amongst a few trashcans it's doubtful anyone will recognize what's left.

[Sam Modine] To think him so mindless and unaware of anything but the fray as to completely lose his surroundings is a mistake. In fact, the truth is quite the opposite. These are those times when he is hyper-aware, acutely tuned with the physics of all the kinematic movement necessary to stay alive.

And to make sure one's opponent does not.

Regardless it's between his final two punches that he truly takes notice of his packmate going to town with teeth and jaws at mr. cool half-man bait. Just bait for short. His appetite at first seems so voracious at first as to be confused with the thrall of the eater of souls. Thankfully though that briefest fear is allayed as his borhter spits out the last of it, giant dire-wolf tongue cening itself against his chops unconsciously. It's a few seconds before he even realizes he's hurt, reaches down to feel warm blood and his own guts hanging out of him in places. He doesn't yet bother to wipe his hands on his jeans, still the young man is a little far gone for that. His clavicle shoots through his shirt near the shoulder, shorn clean in half by sharp claws. is pectorals though are only the start of the long rips four wide that slash across his chest. There's a nearly identical but more ragged hole in his belly too, and blood pours out, causing the world to spin wrong for just a second, his adrenaline level now dropping. Careful steps carry him into the mouth of the alley, his face white as a sheet suddenly.

Step. One hand to his guts.
Step. He's into the alley, out of the lights. Starting the change
Thud. Sam's Glabro form hits the ground, face first and hard from the sound of it.

It's only a minute or so before he rustles up again, wearing the same pair of jeans but having discarded the shirt onto the alley floor after fingers had absently torn at it to make it stop binding him. A seide effect of the Rage, even under this moon, that itch of constraint and the shedding of discomfort in favor of those things that don't have your blood rising dangerously.

Oddly his reply isn't to even address the other right way, though he does stoop to begin looking for suitable trophies immediately. Rather the Fenrir, asks after his packmate's safety. Back down in his human form his voice is the same quiet tenor it always is. "You alright, Luke, That thing get you anywhere?" Nothing else, he can see his packmate took little if any in the way of outer damage already.

"Yeah, I need a shower." Finally he uses the brick walls surrounding them to wipe the thick muck from the smaller creatures off his hands, drawing little flecks of blood on them as some skin is scratched and grated away wit the friction. If anyone else were back here that would seem the strangest. A man scraping his hands against brick so hard they bleed...and doing so without flinching ever once.

"Thanks."

For coming for me. For being here. For--whatever. Lets just get some trophies.

[Administrator] The Universe. has left Magnificent Mile (North Side)

[Administrator] Danicka has left Magnificent Mile (North Side)

[Administrator] Sam Modine has left Magnificent Mile (North Side)

[Lukas] Seven or eight minutes later, Danicka's phone rings.

The second she picks up: "Are you all right? Where are you?"

[Danicka] She has not spent the last seven or eight minutes in hysterics. At least, her voice doesn't sound like she's spent the last seven or eight minutes in hysterics. She sounds perfectly calm, but how Danicka seems is rarely how Danicka is. Except...sometimes.

"I'm fine," she says, slowly, almost gently. "I'm driving towards the Brotherhood."

[Lukas] There was some subaudible level of urgency and tension in Lukas' tone; it's only noticeable in retrospect, when it's gone.

"Okay. I'll meet you there." He sounds a little hoarse; perhaps a little tired. "Thanks for the tip."

[Danicka] A beat, nothing more, and then the polite return. Politeness is just an act, and yet: there was still an undertone of sincerity to the way he pulled out her chair and held her coat for her, just as there is a line of genuine warmth in what would be a pat response from anyone else:

"You're welcome."

She ends the call. It isn't safe to drive and talk at once, after all. Especially when one has been drinking.

[Lukas] Lukas is a little behind Danicka. Also, he has to find her car. There hadn't been the rush of roadnoise in the background when he called -- likely he was still on foot then.

About fifteen minutes or so after the Lincoln arrives, the BMW pulls up in the parking lot as well. Not many of the Brotherhood's residents own vehicles, and this late, the restaurant is closed. The lot is nearly empty. Even if not for that fact, Lukas would still find his car easily by the fact that he recognizes it, and recognizes the blonde smoking a cigarette against its door.

The headlights of Danicka's BMW sweep across her as Lukas pulls into space immediately adjacent. Then he gets out, and not wearing the same clothes anymore: he's in his jeans, and he's in his undershirt, and the rest of it has simply vanished.

Likely there are some very expensive rags in an alley somewhere.

In the parking lot lights, Lukas looks as he always does: serious, steady, with a quiet, endless confidence. There's no indication of injury. His clothes are clean. His face is not: he also looks bloody, savage, horrific.

His eyes are, however, less intense than they usually would be. His rage is all but drained, down to the last vestigial burn. He looks her over slowly, carefully, a thorough survey of her from head to foot to head. Then Lukas holds her keys out to her. His hands are relatively clean, but he doesn't touch her skin.

[Danicka] The music playing on the stereo in Danicka's car -- however briefly, for however long before Lukas turns it off -- is quiet piano and a woman's voice, the tone very like a lullaby and the screen on her stereo scrolls in pale blue the somewhat ironic title: You Are The Moon. There is a now-empty paper cup from a coffee shop sitting in a cupholder. The smell of caramel lingers. So does Danicka's own personal scent, however faint it may be.

When he arrives at the Brotherhood in her car she is standing at his car, her ass and back against the driver's side door, one arm folded over her stomach and the other arm lifted to hold the cigarette she's smoking. She looks up when the headlights move, her pupils constrict, and then she looks away. She looks at her feet, and does not look up again until he gets out of her car.

Danicka drops her cigarette onto the wet asphalt and stubs it out. For once, she just leaves it there.

He looks bloody, savage, and horrific. She doesn't move away from his car at first, and then takes three steps over and takes her keys from his palm, puts them in her coat pocket. Hand coming back out, she looks him over but does not produce his keys for him. "Jsi v pořádku?"

[Lukas] (I R NOT SICK)

[Danicka] (O RLY)

[Lukas] The corners of his mouth twitch when she asks him if he's okay. He's not laughing at her, though. He's not even laughing at all. The smile had been brief, fleeting to say the least -- it had been more appreciation than humor.

"Jsem v pohodě. Takže je Sam." Tonight's the first time either of them have mentioned Sam in the other's presence for a very long time.

A pause. Then he draws a short breath. He looks fine, he looks absolutely fine... he looks like he's doing a rather good job of looking fine.

"Sorry about dinner," this is more wry than heartfelt. "I should go get cleaned up."

[Danicka] On the phone she hadn't asked if he was okay, or all right, or where he was, or did they kill it, or did Sam survive. On the phone, she answered two simple questions and ended the call. When he arrived, she did not ask if the bratr jeho duše had survived or what shape he was in or if they killed it or ew, he didn't transport any body parts in her trunk, did he?

But he tells her that Sam is fine, and she doesn't say anything about Sam. Danicka looks up at him, 5'7" if she stands up straight and only because she's got at least some lift from her shoes. She tilts her head to one side, observing him thoughtfully, then quietly asks:

"Chceš, abych zůstala s tebou?"

Her eyebrows are lifted slightly as she says this -- offers this -- but there's an underpinning of understanding not only of the state he's in but of the likelihood, as she sees it, that she already knows the answer.

[Lukas] This time the smile is more visible, and more rueful. "Jo," he replies, almost immediately. He doesn't shout it; he very nearly whispers it -- a breath of a sound, no more. It's utterly honest.

Then he adds, "Ale ty by měly jít. Nejsem neproštípnutý okamžikem."

[Danicka] His first answer is the beginning, at least, of a smile on Danicka's lips, the sort that lights up a person's face when they've been given a gift. In this case it comes from being proven wrong. Usually that doesn't make people smile. It starts to make Danicka smile -- but then he goes on, and her lips go level, and her eyebrows go up.

She blinks. "Co to blejes?" she asks him, in a tone that could otherwise be translated as Excuse me?

Danicka shakes her head and steps to the side, giving him her profile and nodding towards the Brotherhood. "Nebuďte hloupý," she says firmly.

[Lukas] "Danička," he takes a step after her, reaches for her out of instinct -- his hand stops half a foot from her arm as though it'd hit a wall. Drops back to his side.

"I'm covered in Wyrm-taint. I feel ... sick." Anyone else might say it piteously, looking for sympathy, looking to guilt-trip her into leaving. Lukas grimaces as he admits it, the way you admit a fault or a flaw. Which is, of course, exactly what it is. "I don't want you near me until I'm Cleansed, and I don't want you near me until it passes. In case it's contagious."

[Danicka] The first thing he says -- her name -- is enough to make her pause, but her eyes were already on him and she was already waiting for him to come with her, so it's hard to tell. The second thing he says is not enough to make her draw back, which is disturbing, but this is after all the same woman who tried to draw on the caking blood on his chest some time ago. The third thing he says -- that he feels sick -- does not make her sneer in disgust nor suddenly melt with pity. She just takes it in, just like the rest, as fact. He is not, at least, whining about it.

In the end, though, it's not a yearning to be obedient or pleasing that sways her. Danicka understands at least the rudiments of taint, of Cleansing, that he did not just mean that he needs to wash his hair. His desire to keep her from getting sick is simply...practical. She will not regeneration. The toxins that can put a Garou under for days and weeks, introduced to a Kinfolk's system, could very well be lethal in a matter of hours, if that.

Danicka's not a terribly stubborn woman, though she has backbone. There is nurturing warmth to her, but she's not overly sentimental. She receives new information, considers it briefly, and nods, reaching into the right pocket of her coat and holding his keys out to him. And when he takes them, she is careful not to touch his skin.

[Lukas] Lukas holds his hand out, palm open. Any other man and he might've been holding his hand out for hers.

She drops the keys in his palm; his fingers close. There's a distance between them, a sort of self-imposed quarantine. He stays another moment. The night's a little too cool for a single layer, or even for two or three if you stood outside and smoked for twenty minutes the way Danicka did. Still; he takes a second, ten seconds, to look at her.

"Je mi líto nemohl jsem zůstat s vámi," he says, very quietly, and he's not talking about the Brotherhood, the now, this at all. "Jsem velice líto."

[Danicka] [Perception + Empathy]

[Danicka] Even Lukas, on another night, or if the past half-hour had not happened, would not only be holding out his hand for hers but pulling her back towards him. Then again, if the past half-hour had not happened, they would still be sitting at Brasserie Jo drinking wine and eating -- respectively -- lamb and quiche. They've seen each other today only in snatches: a glance across the street from a cathedral, a handful of minutes across a white-clothed table, and this.

Yet it's more than they usually have, when they are not dragging one another to a hotel room or a bedroom and locking the door, hiding on couches and beds and in showers from the rest of the world, and the War, and everyone occupying either. So there's no real reason why Lukas should look at her with anything like dismissal and no reason, really, why she should not smile as she does now. It's a very small thing, not overwhelmingly happy, but there's reasons for it.

Everybody lived, for one.

It takes Danicka a moment, but only a moment -- the space of a bird flapping its wings or a slow blink -- to understand what it is he's talking about. It doesn't occur to her that he is speaking in general, that he is talking about the last night they spent together or even, really, dinner. He's talking about what happened between pouring her a glass of wine and running to help Sam. She gives that slow blink, and then tips her head to the side, giving him a tight, but understanding smile that is far too close to a wince to seem truly happy at all.

"You would be sorrier," she says gently, and without the worthlessness of self that in another woman might underline the words, "if Sam had died."

She is very careful with how she says this. It is not about choosing pack over Kin, or vice versa, or anything of the sort. It's a simple statement of fact. As much as he may have wanted to stay with her back there, he made the right choice.

[Lukas] "Yeah," he agrees, quietly.

And he could tell her how he had looked around the street before running to Sam's aid; how he had been as certain as he could have been that there were only two, and that if one of them had gone for her instead, he could have intercepted him, and, and ...

Lukas doesn't make excuses. Danicka -- as warm, as welcoming, as accepting as she can seem -- probably doesn't accept them.

What he says instead is: "But I would have been very sorry too if you had died."

And that is the truth.

[Danicka] It's cold outside. It's not the worst weather Danicka's been out in, whether in New York City or Chicago. Danicka is wrapped in that knee-length, tailored black coat that makes her look taller than 'average' height and slimmer than she is already.

Lukas is mistaken if he thinks that Danicka would even know what to do with excuses, with reasoning for his behavior, with assurances that if she had really been threatened he would have done something about it, and so on and so forth. Lukas is mistaken if he thinks that she wishes he had not left her, or that this was what she wanted. It's good he doesn't try to explain this strategic thinking to her, not because she wouldn't understand, but because they would find themselves once again on such different pages that misunderstanding would take over and so far they have only really found one way to recover from such conversational mishaps.

And they can't have that right now.

So:

"Vím," she says. Quiet. Simple. True.

Danicka does not go to him and lay a kiss on his cheek or give him a hug, as she might have otherwise, but her sense of self-preservation is too well-honed to take that risk. Instead, she winks at him, and nods. "Go inside. Come see me when you're better."

[Lukas] Vím, she says.
And there's a silence.

Then, rather suddenly, almost the instant she winks, he smiles at her. It's not rueful, and it's not wry. It's the way he smiles when she makes him his favorite koláče. It's the way he smiles when she appears at his tableside when he's expecting her, or better yet, on a post-midnight street when he's not. It's the way he smiles when he wakes up in the morning and she's snickering on her computer, and he asks her what she's doing, and she climbs into his lap instead of answering.

"I would've been happy for you to stay with me tonight, Danička." He puts the keys in his pocket and he's still smiling as he starting toward the Brotherhood, walking backwards to keep her in his sight. "Dobrou noc."

[Danicka] A wink.

A smile.

And then Danicka laughs, despite the fact that he's wounded inside and out and Gaia only knows what Sam is dismembering or disposing of or hanging up as a trophy right now. She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head at him, both at what he says and the way he walks backwards.

"I know," she repeats, mid-laughter, as though all this time he has just been saying the same thing to her, over and over, and that she believes him.

Which is really the strangest part.

"Dobrou noc, ty směšný člověk," she adds affectionately, shaking her head one more time before she takes her eyes off of him, turns around, and goes to her car, to her building, to her home.

jackie-boy claims sanctuary.

[Administrator] Kitteh, welcome to Magnificent Mile (North Side) (Now)

[Jack Castellano] She grabs at him, the slight mexican girl's frame darting quickly for the man's throat or his face. He moves though and it's just by his own position maybe that he's able to lean effectively enough to get out of the way. She barks out orders at him and it seems to him as if he can feel the intensity of her anger on him as though something like that were possible.

All of it has him on his feet like a flash, and his head shakes out his own loss of control. His hand draws back to strike her solidly across the face, thankfully though the bulk of the force had been delivered to her cheek and had caused only a superficial blossoming of a darker hue on her skin that's only yet appearing. She though is a trained warrior, and one with talents hes not even aware of. It seems impossible the way she brings her other hand up directly between them for the side of his face. It's only the small distance he'd put between them by standing on the bottom step that she'd just scored a glancing blow. "Fucking buccioc!"

The New York sounding man in the suit is screaming at the Mexican girl, it's come to blows. People stare, people turn quietly the other way as the walk up the street.

Wonderful.

[Soledad Gutierrez] (( Rage: He pimpslapped me?! ))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 8, 10 (Success x 1 at target 7)

[Danicka Musil] "Alligators," is Danicka's gentle correction, her eyes now carefully avoiding the side of the street where Soledad and Jack are having their little altercation. Her BMW is parked alongside the street, about half a block north, and that's the direction she heads. "And no, not so far as I've seen. I'm surprised to even see people with --"

Fucking buccioc!

She doesn't know what that means. She's heard it before, though. She knows it's bad. Danicka grimaces with affected distaste and keeps walking. "-- pets in this city. Have you been in many metropolitan areas crawling with wild animals?"

[Administrator] Kitteh has left Magnificent Mile (North Side)

[Soledad Gutierrez] Once upon a time, this was the reason Soledad just couldn't go anywhere without being accompanied. A few years back she was practically glued to Oscar Taggart's side, or vice versa, primarily because of the Uktena's inability to control her temper. She had learned how to keep it at bay, no doubt, but once her fuse was lit it seemed impossible to stomp it out until she had pummelled whatever guilty party held the fuse-lighting match in their hand into the dirt. This, predominantly, was the case today, though if someone was present to tell her to stop or pull her back, she may be able to calm down.

Maybe.

But, unfortunately, her Alpha was nowhere to be seen to wrangle her, and the Kinfolk man had just slapped her. Her cheekbone would bruise, but she didn't notice that. Her fist shot up, caught his cheek in return, but with knuckles rather than open palm, and Gaia knew that it wouldn't stop there.

He screamed a name in a language she didn't understand, and were she any calmer she may have returned the favor in a language he didn't understand. But no, she was too far gone now. In a Frenzy? No. In a rage? Oh yes. Her jaw was set, her eyes were flashing, and she was bearing down on him with an intensity and intent that suggested she was seeking blood.

[Jack Castellano] 5+
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5 (Failure at target 6)

[Soledad Gutierrez] 6+
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4

[Jack Castellano] [Action: Block

thassit!]

[Evan McCollach] He had been patient for the time being, hoping that maybe the altercation was not going to escalate to levels that might need his attention. Maybe it was just a bit of heated words and nothing more. That would be fine, he could continue to enjoy the fine architecture of the wonderful church and all its trappings.

Then again that was not the case, the situation was staring to heat up and the smell of the upcoming brawl was thick in the air. People turned and watched for a second before running off. It would still be several minutes (more like 30) before anyone would call the police and 10 minutes on top of that before they arrived.

And as the pair of women seemed to rush off in the other direction, away form the boiling fray. That clued him into what they probably weren't. If they were true born, they certainly were not half-moons. A philodox could not walk away from this without ensuring everything was fully under control.

He laws broken, not his territory. He would only watch until it became necessary to move in.

[Soledad Gutierrez] (( Action: Split Punch/punch+wp Rage Action: Kick ))

[Soledad Gutierrez] (( Punch 1: Dex + Brawl -2 ))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 6 (Failure at target 6)

[Soledad Gutierrez] (( Punch 2: Try that again... -3 ))
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 5, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Jack Castellano] [Block, Dex+Brawl diff. 6]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 6, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Soledad Gutierrez] (( Ohhell. Forgot to add the WP bonus to my second punch. *Pegs that on there, cackles* ))

[Jack Castellano] [ARRRGH! HAHAHAHA!]

[Soledad Gutierrez] (( Damage ))
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 5, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Liadan Whelan] Liadan affects a chuckle, unconsciously following her companion's lead by keeping her eyes focused straight ahead. “I haven't, actually, but you never know. Some Old World cities believe the craziest shit, y'know?” She is covering ground quickly with a long, easy gait. Every few steps she tries to consciously slow her footfall to avoid outdistancing Danicka. Someone is fighting, and from the sounds of it her occasional lessons at various dojos around the world had not prepared her well enough. If she and Danicka are caught in this fight somehow, then unless the classy blonde has a black belt holding up those snug fitting jeans, they were probably going to be ripped to pieces.

The convertible is visible just up ahead. Slightly breathless, Lee turns a smile that doesn't go anywhere near her eyes on Danicka. “Know any good bars? I don't know about you, but I could really go for a beer right about now.”

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Across the street from St. Michael's in Chicago is a wholly different sort of religious bastion: one where god is replaced by the dollar, liturgical robes by suits and ties, and crucifixes and idols by stock charts and wall clocks set to NYC time.

It's a Morgan Stanley branch office, and it's the end of the business day, and it's dusk, and the glass door flashes the last of the sunlight over the street as it opens. Lukas steps out, and if someone took a picture of him right now, looked at it later, anyone would agree that yes, he belongs here in this hallowed world of affluence and privilege, this world of commerce and trade, investment firms where you made your money and banks where you stored it and stores, expensive fucking stores, where you spent it. Anyone would see a young man, early to mid 20s, in distressed designer jeans, dark ashen blue, and a button-up woven shirt, pale green, and a well-cut vest; a tie, even, though it's too narrow to be anything but for the look. Anyone would see someone with money, a little style, and the good sense to invest what he made, however he may have made it.

Which doesn't explain why, when Lukas steps out of the Morgan Stanley office and onto the broad sidewalks of the Mile, pedestrians instinctively flinch away from him. They look at him as though what lay beneath the polished exterior was something entirely unpolished, entirely raw, entirely unhinged.

And they are, of course: right.

Lukas has a messenger bag slung over his shoulder; some papers in his hand. He's twisting about to put the latter into the former when fucking buccioc! rings over the street. This is a nice part of town. People didn't scream obscenities at each other here. His head comes up; he frowns down the street, and now bystanders are stopping to gawk at the fistfight (which is bizarre enough in this area), and not only a fistfight but a fight before a man and a woman (which is almost unheard of), and ...

... isn't that Hatchet's beta?

There's a second where Lukas wants to look the other way and pretend he didn't see it, nope, didn't see it, didn't see anything. Then, with a brief exhale through his teeth, he moves the strap of his messenger back more securely over the opposite shoulder, the strap crossing his chest now, and picks up his pace to jog across the street.

"Hey. Hey!" It's a short, sharp shout, like a bark, subsiding quickly as he comes up on the sidewalk. "Soledad, what the hell are you doing?"

[Jack Castellano] [SOAK!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 3, 6 (Failure at target 6)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] (if this continues into next round, put me into the inits rotation!)

[Evan McCollach] (Same here, Evan will move in if it starts to get out of control)

[Soledad Gutierrez] (( Rage Kick-- To floor ya. ))
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 6, 6, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7)

[Soledad Gutierrez] (( Damage ))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Jack Castellano] [SOAK! HAIL!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 5, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Soledad Gutierrez] (( Just so ya know-- Soledad and Jack are brawling on the front steps of the St. Michael's Cathedral, and Evan's watching whistling dandy. :D ))
to Lukas Wyrmbreaker

[Soledad Gutierrez] This sight was indeed something that did not belong in Chicago's Old Town, it was entirely too nice a neighborhood for such things to occur. Honestly, though, it'd be weird anywhere. Jack was a man in an expensive suit with the features of the highest realm of human breeding, dripping confidence, money, and ruthlessness. And he was fist-fighting a mixed-race (Mexican + Native American + God Knows) girl in jeans and a red hoodie, both faded and probably pulled from a Salvation Army bin.

What's worse? Suddenly the lean girl was winning.

Soledad bared down upon Jack, and all he had time to do was defend himself, or try to at least. In a flurry, she'd thrown two fists, a quick one-two. The first fist missed, the second pushed through the arm that came up to block, to defend, and caught him on one side of his chest. Then, immediately following, her heavy booted foot lifted, drove forward, and thumped him square in the gut. The fist at his chest cracked something underneath, one bone or another. The foot knocked the wind out of him good, but not a whole lot more.

And the whole while her lips were curled away from her teeth, bared, and that terrible electric-cold feeling that her particular brand of Rage had was spilling down the steps and expanding to reach the sidewalk as well.

[Soledad Gutierrez] Lukas, along with the red-haired man-boy in front of the Cathedral and the (wisely) fleeing Kinfolk and all others, was ignored completely. She had eyes only for Jack, and not in the cute fluttery-eyelashes way either.

[Danicka Musil] You can always tell someone who has lived in a crime-ridden city before: they don't make a lot of eye contact. You don't look across the street at the altercation happening because you're curious, and you walk the fuck on when you see police cars. Only an idiot stops and gawks. Danicka and Liadan don't stop and gawk, or look over their shoulders, or any of that.

They keep walking, Danicka's stride lengthening. She's used to keeping up with people who are taller than her, even though her height is right at average for a North American woman. It's Liadan that's the giantess. At 5'10".

Danicka is opening her mouth to answer, to say that why yes, she knows of quite a few bars, and there's plenty of nice ones that are not The Brotherhood of Thieves, when someone behind them yells Hey. Hey! That would not be enough to get her to turn around, not enough to get her recognize the voice, not until the rest comes out of Lukas's mouth. That's when Danicka, mid-breath, looks over her shoulder. Her eyebrows hop up on her face, and she blinks, but then turns back and nods to Liadan.

She doesn't go back to watch the brawl. She takes her new roommate, her precious and -- she assumes -- mortal roommate, and gets the fuck out.

[Administrator] Liadan Whelan has left Magnificent Mile (North Side)

[Administrator] Danicka Musil has left Magnificent Mile (North Side)

[Administrator] liar, welcome to Magnificent Mile (North Side) (Now)

[Jack Castellano] It only takes one look at her after her closed fist glances from his chin to know she's coming back for more. It's only instinct that lets him get his arm up to block the next one to come in on target. Again she moves in a manner to make one's eyes widen and again it's like he can feel the way she hates in the air between. The foot connects right in his abdomen, producing a heave as the man's eyes fight not to roll back in the sickened look that's all over him.

His arms fly to his side and his body twists, his face returning to raw hatred when he looks over his shoulder and sprints up the steps as best he can to get away.

"Jesus... crazy...fuck!"

It's exclaimed breathlessly through gritted teeth, and he heaves on the words like cottonballs in the chest.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] (ok, kenna sez Sol's gonna chase his ass down, so -- inits!)

[Soledad Gutierrez] 6+
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] (+7)
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5 (Failure at target 6)

[Evan McCollach] (6+)
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10

[Soledad Gutierrez] (( Action: Chase the fucker down ))

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] (action: lukas swings his bag off and use its strap to entangle soledad. (basically a chain entangle))

[Jack Castellano] 5+
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Jack Castellano] [Action: Run, WP]

[Evan McCollach] (1 Rage used. Chase sole. Rage action subdue Sole)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] (entangle: chain attack (dex/melee diff 5) +1 diff (for entangle))
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 2, 6, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] (forgo damage roll -- he's not trying to hurt her. yet. *LOL* i think soledad's entangled now, so -- partially immobilized? wanna change your action, kenna?)

[Soledad Gutierrez] (( Hells no. ))

[Evan McCollach] (change rage action to activate persausion. Add wp).
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 5, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6) [WP]

[Evan McCollach] (dammit that should be diff 7)

[Soledad Gutierrez] (( Don't matter. Same results either way. ))

[Administrator] the devil, welcome to Magnificent Mile (North Side) (Now)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Jack breaks and runs, which is likely the wisest course of action at this point. Soledad's not done yet. She starts after him. Lukas doesn't stop to think -- he swings the messenger bag off his shoulder and, in the same heartbeat, flings the strap around Soledad. Yanks her to a stop. In the next second Lukas gives the bag itself three rapid spins, twisting the tough nylon strap tight, pinning Soledad's arms to her sides.

People are hurrying away. Half a block away, some people are still gawking. Others are getting cell phones out, ready to call the cops if the crazy fuck! gets loose again. The Shadow Lord's biceps are bulging through his shirt, his forearms corded with the strain of holding onto a furious Ahroun, but his jaw is set and his face is neutral. He speaks directly into Soledad's ear, low and tight, mindful of her feet -- just in case she decided to mule-kick him in the knee.

"What the fuck are you doing, Soledad? Do you know where you are? No matter what he did, you beat him to a bloody pulp here and there'll be cops crawling up your ass in ten seconds."

[Evan McCollach] His eyes had been carefully focused on the interaction between the pair. It seemed at first like an evenly matched fight. A dispute that would sooner or later draw to a simple conclusion of one person going down and the other person stopping. After that it would end and nothing would have to be done.

This was not the case it seemed. The Mexican woman, seemingly obviously one of his own kind was not interested in stopping. Teeth bared and ready to go into worse acts should it not be stopped. And he could no longer stand by and allow that too happen. It seemed someone else was on the way to stop the attack, a blur that ran by as he took off as well. He was a split second behind, chasing down the enraged true before she killed the poor guy. And before he was even able to get to the woman, she was already wrapped up and cursing from the man's

"Enough."

It did not come out as a normal human command. But that of a primal, gutteral growl to ensnared woman. His breeding and the gift wrapped about him like a coat of leadership. Silver fang breeding was quite a potent deterrent to any altercation and for all they knew he was. Even if they got that feel something was off. Then there was his posturing, his eyes held higher than her own. Puffing out his chest. The guy was barely getting away after the beating he sustained at her hands.

[Soledad Gutierrez] Jack's eyes widened with recognition of the fact that he was outmatched. He should have known better than to try and fight a Werewolf, he really should have. He cursed, sputtered, held his side when she kicked him, and then spun about to try and run away. Soledad, riled up as she was, viewed this not as a win, not as him submitting to her will, but as a chase. The prey running from the preadator. She tensed up to give chase, and moved perhaps two steps before being stopped.

Lukas was at her side out of nowhere. Like an expert, he had his bag strap around her, lassoed her and twisted it around so her arms were pinned to her sides. Have no doubt that she flipped the fuck out. She struggled, twisted her shoulders this way and that, stamped her feet to try and catch his toes with her heel, to get him to relent, loosen his grip, and let her go. She growled at him, tossed her head when he put his mouth close to her ear to mutter words of logic to her. It was like trying to hold a stray tom cat by the scruff of his neck-- she was going to break free if she snapped her spine doing it.

Enough.

...Or until that happened. She went still when Evan's hard, commanding voice touched her ears, and wild black eyes flew from Lukas to Evan, from Evan to Jack's retreating back, then to Evan again. She panted, her shoulders heaved with her breaths, and she was still hunched over and tensed, halfway through trying to break loose when she stilled. She didn't speak, didn't seem to really gather or collect herself either, but at least she wasn't fighting anymore.

[Jack Castellano] There aren't any words that escape as he pedals and sprints altertantely as his feet turn up the steps. At the top, where the landing leads to the large doors of the church he stops. Somone else had grabbed the woman, and another man is now demanding that she stop.

It seems like a much better idea suddenly.

His feet quite moving and he swallows hard wincing as he brushes himself off. One hand pressing down finally on his chest and bending him in a brief comic step at the waist and back up with a hiss through still gnashed teeth. Her subdued he takes one step then another back toward the doors. One hand hurriedly grasps the handle and he grits out a fuck you smile.

"We'll see you around, Sol."

He rushes into the religious house and disappears at least for now as the large door swings shut behind him. Those words hangs in a way practiced and threatening. He wheezes some but only uses that to his advantage. It's obvious in those brief seconds before he goes he's trying to cow the young woman being attended to by her own kind.

[Administrator] Wreck has left Magnificent Mile (North Side)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas is not a bad man. He's not an evil man, a selfish bastard out for nothing but himself. But he has two of the coldest eyes in the city; in the whole goddamn state. They're pale, they're blue, they're clear as ice.

He looks at the unknown man for a second as he turns around for a final fuck-you. His eyes fix on the other. He speaks very quietly, cutting Jack off mid-sentence.

"Shut up. Turn around. Leave."

(annnd persuasion)
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 5, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Evan McCollach] Jack thought he was safe at that moment, heading into the church. Looking for some divine savior to take pity on him and save him from the hell that a true born could bring down. That excuse that a human's rule out did their own in his pleas for sanctuary were little in his mind. The man had enough of a beating. It was time for him to lick his wounds.

And then he decided to provoke the predator standing before him. And well that was not going to fly in his mind. No, he would not get a free out at this moment. His arm extended out to the fleeing man, dark green eyes lock on him before he could close the doors behind him. Locking in on the young man. He may not respond to breeding or rank, but the gift still held him and that was enough to grip most kinfolk.

"YOU. Come. Now."

He was not so disinclined in letting the woman go with such a cowardly act. And if he did try and continue his route, the coggie might just do that.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] (grr. delete last post. i'm keeping my roll though. *LOL*)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas is not a bad man. He's not an evil man, a selfish bastard out for nothing but himself. But he has two of the coldest eyes in the city; in the whole goddamn state. They're pale, they're blue, they're clear as ice.

He looks at the unknown man for a second as he turns around for a final fuck-you. His eyes fix on the other. He says nothing to Castellano; Evan's spoken up by then.

Instead, he lays a steady hand on Soledad's shoulder and turns her around. "Let's go," he says -- quietly, but firmly.

[Soledad Gutierrez] Soledad may have been calming down. Slowly but surely. She straightened up a little, though her breathing was still labored under the effort to reign a temper fueled by Rage and violence that was in full swing when Lukas immobilized her and Evan snapped her more logical mind back to the forefront. But...

We'll see you around, Sol.

...that just blew it.

She pulled away from Lukas again, lunging forward to try and get up the steps. She leaned all of her weight into the effort to break free, but was too distracted with yelling at the shit-grinning Kinfolk to be trying to smash Lukas's face and feet to break away. If anyone there spoke Spanish, they'd understand that she was begging him to come try, to give it his best shot. That she was exclaiming that she would see his father dead and his mother hanged naked and prone by a tree in his front yard. That she would have Pestulance at his doorstep and Death in his bed.

Pleasantries like that.

Evan demanded the man come back in the same tone that had gotten her to calm down (a little). Lukas put his hand on her shoulder and suggested they leave. She didn't seem to hear him. Though she'd finished yelling, was quiet again, and (surprisingly) still again as well, though she was still pulling faintly against the strap around her, she glared very hard at the man at the church doors (or the doors themselves if he manages to get inside), breathed heavily, and trembled with Rage.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Soledad," there's force behind his grip now; he turns the Ahroun around to face him, locks eyes with her. "Let's go."

A beat.

"Please."

[Evan McCollach] (Intimidation. With Eagle's boon)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 5)

[Jack Castellano] [Temp WP]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 5, 6, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Jack Castellano] As the door swings shut behind him a voice runs right through his body, tickling right in the bruises. He turns to look through the rapidly swinging portal and sees the person calling out to him. Just ocks hiead sideways, a pained and humored expression on his lips.

And disappears.

[Soledad Gutierrez] She could only stare at a heavy wooden door for so long. Especially when she was physically turned about by the Shadow Lord Ahroun that she shared quarters with but rarely interacted with-- except for one time to battle and slaughter a cluster of Fomori. And, as was the case with most all Garou, particularly Ahroun, respect and some ghostly spider-silk-strand of commradery was forged that night. She couldn't know for sure if it went both ways, but when Lukas forced her to turn, locked his cold blue eyes onto her normally-cold-but-currently-flashing black ones, she stared right back and listened.

Please.

Had it not been for that word, she may well have growled and ignored him. May have thrown sanctuary to the wind and walked into a trap with Jackie standing behind the doors, gun aimed directly at them, waiting for the girl-monster to follow him in and bite his bullet. But that one word had her narrowing her eyes some, taking a deep breath, then nodding.

"Fine..."

[Evan McCollach] Jack seemed to be beyond the doors within a few seconds. But Evan caught sight of his pained face just before he disappeared. He would remember that face as for the moment. Let him lick his wounds. Let him enjoy his life for one more day. But it seemed that next time the kin would not get as much quarter from him. He took the cowards way out, he took a final cheap verbal shot at the almost enraged true born. Next time he was lucky if he survived.

And then it was back to the screaming, or at least at the time, woman. He watched her as she struggled against the strap, cursing and looking for vengance. He pondered letting it, but that would ruin the veil if she went too far. Looking at her one more time, still using what little wrap of his breeding he could have left.

"Now let's go before the police come. I need some answers."

He moved up to her, waiting for her to start off from the door and away for the scene of the crime.

He started to move

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] When Soledad speaks -- a single word, but a word nonetheless -- Lukas' penetrating stare relents. He was waiting for this: some sign that her mind has returned to her, some sign that she wasn't about to claw down the doors (literally) and wreck some shit.

He lets go her shoulder and, quickly and efficiently, untangles her from his messenger bag. He slings the bag back over his own shoulder, crosswise, and as Evan falls in on her other side, asks, "So what was that all about?"

[Evan McCollach] He stood to the other side of Soledad for the time being. Flanking her if she were to go out on another brawling spree. One beating was enough to keep her in shape for the night. And he wanted to know what exactly sparked the incident. But it was more important that they leave the scene.

And as Lukas just starts in on the questioning, he listens. He didn't need to repeat the question to make it a valid point.

[Soledad Gutierrez] Lukas she knew, so she didn't mind him flanking her when he detangled her and they started walking. However, she had no idea who Evan was, so having him pressing in on her other side, keeping her in check just in case (and she didn't blame them, honestly, she knew she could be a right pain in the ass when in that sort of a mood), she was a little... well, uncomfortable wasn't the word, but she wasn't completely happy or cool with it either. She lifted a hand to touch lightly at the bruise on her cheeck, then press two fingers against it to test the damage underneith. It stung, but she'd be perfectly fine. Fucker hit pretty hard, though. She'd guessed him to be all bolster, useless without his gun and people cowing to his stare.

Half-growling, half-grunting, she walked with them, away from the cathedral and up the sidewalk. Evan said he needed answers and she glanced to him but said nothing. When Lukas asked what that was abut, though, she answered very simply.

"He slapped me."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Why'd he slap you?" Lukas is a rarity amongst Ahrouns: he's patient.

[Soledad Gutierrez] "I tried to strangle him."

Just as flat-toned as he was patient at the moment.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] There's a faint huff of surprised laughter. "And why'd you try to strangle him?"

[Soledad Gutierrez] The laughter was ignored. Any looks or expressions of protest that may come from Evan were ignored as well. She answered just as simply and flatly as she had done before, and reached up to pull the hood of her hoodie back over her head, then jammed her hands back in the stomach pocket-pouch of the same garment. "He sassed me."

[Evan McCollach] He would just continue to listen as they walked. They seemed to know each other and it was enough to just listen and learn what he needed to know. The fight didn't go too far, nothing was broken, at least law wise. And... once again it wasn't his sept or territory.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas is having trouble holding back his grin now; he has to turn his head away to get it under control.

"Well, in the future, try to restrain yourself until you can get him somewhere secluded." He glances over his shoulder, casually, but his eyes are alert; he's making sure cops haven't been called. "Who was he, anyway? Kin, or a particularly brave sheep?"

[Evan McCollach] His ears perked up a little bit at that last question. This was really what he wanted to learn, if the guy she just wailed away on was kin or if he was just an abnormal mortal. If he was kin, well that would be a completely different can of worms than if it was a regular freak who could resist the gifts of Gaia.

[Soledad Gutierrez] He could grin all he pleased. He could probably grin to her face and laugh about the situation and she'd be just fine. He was forgetting who her Alpha was and what she lived with on a daily (not anymore...) basis. They walked, and she was a quarter of a step behind the other two. She didn't know where they were walking, and didn't particularly care when it came down to it either. Eye contact wasn't offered to either man at this point, just kept forward without being focused or trained onto anything in particular.

"A Kinfolk whose knowledge on his roots needs to be refreshed."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Simple: "Whose kin?"

[Soledad Gutierrez] Her answer was simple and wordless-- an upward shrug of the shoulders.

[Soledad Gutierrez] (( Manip + Sub: I don't know what you're talking about! *Whistle!* ))
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 5, 5 (Failure at target 6)

[Evan McCollach] (Read the lies)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 6, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Evan McCollach] Her wordless response caught him and he looked at her. Stared at her.
"Strike one. Now answer truthfully."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Hard to say what exactly gives Soledad away. To say the woman was unrevealing and taciturn is the understatement of the century. But perhaps it's exactly that: the fact that she stares straight ahead; the fact that she's so careful not to say anything or even look at Lukas when she gives that little shrug.

Lukas has stopped, his eyebrows drawing together. Evan speaks up. The irony is the Coggie is far harsher than Lukas would have been.

The Ahroun adds, quietly: "I think you do know, Soledad."

[Soledad Gutierrez] Now she looked at Evan. Turned her head so that she was peering with one eye around the faded red fabric of her hood. With her Rage drained out some, exhausted, and the object of her ire out of sight and reach, she had returned to the Soledad that could be found silent in the corner of the common room at the Brotherhood, so rarely seen with her Alpha these days. No doubt rumors may be circulating that they were a pack no more. She wouldn't be surprised.

So now, rather than flashing with Rage and hot and piercing, her eyes were cool and almost dull looking, like she was hardly interested in what was happening in front of her, flat like a shark's. Lukas spoke next, and she glanced over to him the same way, then shook her head and bared her teeth. No sense in beating around the bush, that wasn't her style anyways.

"He has no breeding, so it's difficult to tell. When I called him Kin, though, he asked me if I was a Shadow Lord, so I assume that's who found him first, who he 'belongs' to." Beat. "...But I claim him."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] For what it's worth, Lukas steps in front of Soledad so she can stop whipping her head back and forth between him and the Philodox.

Or maybe he's just cutting off her path.

"Sorry, Soledad." He speaks gently; he sounds genuinely apologetic. "Evan can give you the letter of the law, but I don't think the rules work like that. Breeding makes a good kin. It doesn't make a kin. If he's ours, he's ours. You'll have to take up your challenge with Milo Maevsky." The Shadow Lord swings his messenger bag around in front of him, undoing the top zipper to look for a pad of paper, a pen. "Do you need his number?"

[Evan McCollach] It was an oddity that Evan was not in a talkative mood today. Probably because he was hoping to enjoy a small piece of good natured happiness, or at least hope. But that was quickly squished by a fight right out on the church steps.

"If he is shadow lord kin, he is their tribe's claim. Did you make a formal claim to the Lord Elder?"

[Administrator] Milo Maevsky, welcome to Magnificent Mile (North Side) (Now)

[Soledad Gutierrez] Lukas stepped in front of her, cut her off, and her steps came to a halt. But he didn't appear to be challenging her, frowning at her, or anything of that sort. He apologized, and while she wasn't the most perceptive person on the front of empathy or intent, she figured it was sincere enough. Sounded like it. And he was offering the person to talk to's phone number. So she didn't growl, didn't snarl, didn't even glower. She just nodded, then cut a glance over to Evan. Her eyes narrowed a little at him, and in a low, almost rumble-grumble tone of voice, she answered him. "I will be now."

Then, to Lukas, she glanced at his bag, then to his face. "Do you have a phone?"

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Yeah. Let me get him on the phone for you."

Milo's phone rings.

[Milo Maevsky] The ringing stops after only two of the noises comes through the electronic connection, and then the man on the other end speaks in an even tone. "Milo here," having read Lukas' name on the caller identification.

[Evan McCollach] Part of his head wanted to sink down when he heard that. Why couldn't this be a simple sort of night. You know, the good old days. Killed a few dozen wrymlings, polished the skulls along the boarder and head home to see his mate.

No there always seemed to be a problem. Always seemed to need a mediator. Damn sometimes he wished that Danny was around somewhere, or maybe princess or hell anyone else.

[Administrator] cricket, welcome to Magnificent Mile (North Side) (Now)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Milo, it's Lukas." The Ahroun walks a short distance away, turning side-on to the others. "It seems we've got a new 'little brother' in the city. Soledad wants to lay claim. Do you have a minute to discuss this? We could meet you someplace."

[Evan McCollach] "Possibly someplace private... and on neutral ground. For everyone present."

Evan added. There was the possibility of them wishing to meet in the bawn, someplace he could not go. And he wanted to make sure this situation was resolved properly. He unfortunately got himself involved. Now he had to see it through

[Soledad Gutierrez] Through all of this, Soledad is silent and waiting patiently, hands in her hoodie pocket and jaw working over nothing at all. But Gaia, if she knew that Evan was seperated from the Caern... That may change that silence.

[Milo Maevsky] Milo releases a sigh, but there's also the sound of a smile in it, almost as if he's less frustrated and more amused. "We should have a beauty pageant. Even the Amazons are getting in on the action," well aware of the female Garou's tribe, it's more a comment on her warrior status. His voice takes a shift for the serious, though, as he continues, saying, "I do," in an answer to his availability. "We'll meet out in the boonies, if that's alright with you," already one step ahead of Evan. He rattles off coordinates and directions for an area that should be unpopulated at this hour, out near the city limits. "Sound alright to the relevant parties?"

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] There's a short, answering laugh. "I'm not sure this is a love match," he replies, wry. Then -- "I'll let them know. See you in about ... forty minutes."

(shall we switch rooms?)

[Milo Maevsky] [ IC sound good for everyone? ]

[Evan McCollach] (cool)

[Soledad Gutierrez] (( Good to me. ))

[Administrator] Soledad Gutierrez has switched to In Character Room (Now)

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[Administrator] Milo Maevsky has switched to In Character Room (Now)

[Administrator] Milo Maevsky, welcome to In Character Room (Now)

[Administrator] Evan McCollach has switched to In Character Room (Now)

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[Administrator] Jack Castellano has left Magnificent Mile (North Side)

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[Administrator] Lukas Wyrmbreaker, welcome to In Character Room (Now)

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[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] (OK -- on the way over in his car, Lukas would call Milo up and fill him in on a few more details:

1. When he ran across them, Soledad and Jackie were in a fistfight. Soledad blew rage and started beating the crap out of Jackie, and Lukas had to physically restrain her before she'd stop.

2. Jackie then threw off a final taunt before ducking out.

3. Soledad claims Jackie started the fight by mouthing off, which Lukas wholly believes.

4. Soledad attempted to lie about not knowing Jackie's tribe initially.

All in all: Lukas thinks Jackie might be a handful, but that he probably has SOME worth to make the Uktena who can't even stand him want to keep him.)
to Milo Maevsky

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] (oh and also: if Milo wants to hang onto this kin, Lukas would be willing to fight Soledad on his behalf. But he thinks it might be easier just to set a more subtle, possibly spirit-based challenge.)
to Milo Maevsky

[Administrator] liar, welcome to In Character Room (Now)

[Milo Maevsky] The obsidian Navigator is waiting in the field, everything but the gravel and dust paved road connecting two service access roads overrun in high grass and weeds. His interior light is on, a discreet beacon to the rendezvous point. He leans back against the grill of the car, his Armani suit jacket open to show the vest and white dress shirt beneath. A gray wool tie is stuffed into the vest, a slight puff to it that makes him look especially Old School.

The Shadow Lord holds the stud's mark of breeding, of heroes humping away at their stock to replenish the Grandfather's numbers, Russian features, pale skin, a large nose and satellite ears. He is not particularly attractive or ugly, his face slightly wrinkled, crow's feet at the corners of his eyes and light lines around a mouth that has forgotten how to smile deeply enough to do the upkeep. They are deeper fissures on his forehead, a scowl casting down shadows to harden his already dark cobalt blue eyes. Milo looks to be somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] By some odd coincidence both Shadow Lords tonight drive Lincolns. Lukas' is what would be termed a midsize sedan in this day and age of expanding waistlines, but as recently as ten years ago would've been considered a pretty big fucking car. It is black, with HID headlights that cut the night in blue-white swaths.

When he shuts the lights off, everyone's nightblind for a moment. Then the light of the stars and the moon begins to give vague definition to the shadows.

Lukas crosses to the Fostern of his tribe and grips the other's arm in a brief, solid greeting. Then he takes his place beside the Theurge, waiting for the rest to arrive.

"A Philodox of your rank and the Children of Gaia is also coming," he says in lieu of greeting. "He helped me break up the dispute, and I think will agree to oversee the challenge -- if there is one."

[Soledad Gutierrez] Soledad had opted to take the backseat. Though it was difficult to tell at times, she was Homid-born, so she did live like a human once. She knew the rule of shotgun, people of higher status got to sit up front. She recognized the Silver Fang in his blood, and while she was unaware of his rank she did know that he had spoken with authority, so she assumed he had some sort of leader's position tacked onto his formal name and introduction.

So, upon arriving, she took her time getting out of the car, let Lukas get a bit of a leg's lead over her, to greet his tribal elder and speak with him a little before she arrived at the Navigator's grill herself. But this didn't mean that she loitered or idled. She just walked slowly from one car to the next, and when she brought herself to stand in front of Milo her hands were in her hoodie pocket and her chin was dipped just a little, a 'head lowered' gesture that showed recognition of rank and status.

But she said nothing, not just yet. She'd wait until addressed to do so.

[Evan McCollach] Once they were outside of the city, away from the prying eyes and the potential onlookers who could ruin proper introductions and cause problems should they be discovered. Lukas he had met before, it was along with Kemp. However this one, this woman that he had to just break a fight up on and now it seemed that she claimed a kin out of tribe after she just beat the crap out of him.

And then their was the tribal Elder. A shadow lord Elder it seemed. Someone named Milo. It seemed that the Sept was starting to actually turn around since the Eagles left. Maybe they were able to stand on their own. One can hope Kemp got them to work together.

The Silver Fang, turned Child of Gaia would surely stick out like a sore thumb. His fiery-red hair seemed to contrast against his skin, even in the darkness it stood out. His black mariner's coat seemed to wrap about him, even if the chill did not seem to affect him in the slightly. And then there was his own touch of breeding, only seemingly outdone by that of Lukas.

Kings upon Kings, Silver wrapped about in all its glory The effects would soon dissapate once they knew of his true tribe now. But for the time being it cloaked him in a more regal attire, something that maybe Evan would have fit into nicely, if it were suited. He stood outcast from the three of them. He held no alligence to the Lords' nor this woman and therefore was his own place, aloft of the sept. Just to mediate.

"I assume that proper introductions are in order. I will defer to you, being Tribal Elder."

And once and if he so wished to introduce himself, Evan would speak. His posture strong and proud, a mantle he wears well in these meetings.

"I am Evan "Judgement of Sterling Silver" McCollach, Fostern Philodox of the Child of Gaia. One of Eagle's Chosen."

And then onward.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Lukas Wyrmbreaker," Lukas says, brief and to the point. "Cliath Ahroun of the Shadow Lords, Beta to the Unbroken Circle."

[Soledad Gutierrez] Well, it seemed they'd be doing a roundabout, like what was done at moots around these parts when new faces were noticed. Her dark eyes touched on Evan when he introduced himself (Eagles? Wasn't that the pack that left the Caern? ....Oh hell no. Whatever, she'd worry about that later. This was a time for other matters.), then followed to Lukas when he spoke.

She figured that meant it was her turn.

"Muerte Fría, Cliath Uktena Ahroun, Beta of Weasel's Gang."

Beat.

"I come seeking to claim one of your kin, Jack Castellano."

[Milo Maevsky] "Milo Maevsky," given as he looks toward Soledad, having heard Lukas' report without looking over at him, though he does turn to regard the stranger with a measure of respect. That of equals of rank- but with a Shadow Lord twist. Certainly not submissive, far from aggressive, but testing his lines and character as he looks him up and down. "Fell Prayer, Fostern to the Nation, Tribal Elder of the Shadow Lords and Theurge of Gaia and Grandfather Thunder," listening to the various other introductions, even from those he knows.

"You run with Decker. A good warrior," giving a nod to the other Fostern, though looking between his hair and features with the turn of his head.

If you can't say something nice... Milo leaves it at that expression, curious but not pressing. And then, his scowl goes back to arrest itself firmly on Soledad. "To claim one of my kin. I see an error there, if you will follow," follow his words, because he doesn't move as he folds his arm. "He is Shadow Lord kin. You know this. But you knew this, and told a week lie regarding your knowledge. So, you don't seek to claim him. You seek to challenge for the claim my tribe has laid on him, perhaps even since his birth. That last fact should help you understand why such a challenge cannot go unanswered," unswerving logic, convincing and sharp in his words.

And then, "Jack Castellano," running the name over his tongue, and then repeating it one more time. "From New Jersey," said with familiarity. "No, a challenge that must be answered," looking to Soledad for her response.

"First, can I ask why you were whupping his ass? And why you seek to claim one whose ass you would," a pause, then resigning to the word that must come, "whup."

[Administrator] Peek, welcome to In Character Room (Now)

[Evan McCollach] He looked to her when she said she wished to lay claim onto the kinfolk of the shadow lord straight to the Elder. This was fine and all. But he knew that would be all too simple. He stood there watching and waiting. Should his position be called into play.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] (skip me -- I'll post if Lukas has something to say)

[Soledad Gutierrez] Milo spoke, and Soledad listened.

He pointed out the difference between claiming and making a tribal claim, and though dialogue and arguments ran through her mind -- I never did say what I was claiming him for, did I? -- she stayed silent and continued to listen. One may percieve it as respectful, another may say that the way she looked at him with that bland, almost uninterested gaze was disrespectful, but most that have encountered Soledad before know that's just the way she is, regardless.

It was only when a question was asked of her that she spoke, her low alto voice hardly softspoken, but hardly brash or loud or commanding. It was nearly as flat as her eyes were.

"Because he smartmouthed me and managed to evoke my temper by doing so." Pause. "And I seek to claim him because, despite that, I respect and see potential in him. He doesn't quail from Rage like many do."

[Milo Maevsky] "Smartmouthed you, stirred up your temper, got your blood just," mocking a shiver, now, "going crazy, did he? So you decided to beat down the kinfolk of another tribe, for this? You know, I was once mated to an Uktena kin. In Louisiana. Beautiful countryside. Hard, but beautiful. You really see a balance of life and death in those swamps. I didn't earn her by beating her when she got mouthy."

"You see potential in him. As what, a punching bag? Your intentions are to mate with him?" His hands hang loosely at his side, fingers slightly curled, as he continues to stare at the Uktena.

[Soledad Gutierrez] (( Pause ))

[Administrator] Soledad Gutierrez has left In Character Room