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.