hatfields and mccoys.

[Edwin Morr] ((BotME))
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 3, 4, 4, 6, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 1 at target 8)

[Edwin Morr] ((Not funny Kahseeno

Finding a nice inky pool to wait in

dex + stealth + fox))
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Edwin Morr] It's a dark night, even with the full-ish moon overhead, staring down with that lidless gaze. Still, at some point, in Lukas' room, a note is slid under the door... In an unpracticed yet dexterous script.

We need to talk. Roof. Night.

Then, in the shade cast by a large, protruding chimney on the roof of the Brotherhood a man... or what looks like a man, anyway... waits silently. His form was blurry and indistinct, providing him something of a natural camouflage to eyes not specifically seeking him...

A useful thing for those who would not be seen speaking.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [counterroll!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 7)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas had snorted under his breath when he read the note. 'Night' is fairly unspecific, so it's around midnight when the Ahroun gets around to going up the stairs to the roof. When the door shuts behind him, the last of the lamplight from below is gone. There's only the light of a waning gibbous moon up here, and whatever is cast from neighboring buildings and streetlights.

Lukas waits a pause, then speaks to the shadow that most resembles a man. "You know," he says, "there are Shadow Lords who would consider it a challenge for a Cliath to set the time and place of a meeting with his tribal elder. What's this about, Leaves No Trace?"

[Edwin Morr] The blurred figure steps from the shadows, only after making certain that the Wyrmbreaker had come alone, and that no prying eyes were about to overhear the conversation. Then, and only then, does he step from the shadows.

That sly grin as ever upon his lips. His face was almost entirely shaded, with his black Fox Racing baseball cap pulled low upon his brow.

Then, the blur seems to drop from his form... His edges snapping into crisp detail before Lukas' eyes.

"Well... We's at th'moot here recent-like, an' I reckon I heard uh thang'r two whut we oughta talk 'bout. Thang's whut th'Nation ought not know 'bout.

Thangs whut need dealt wit'."

A moment passes, Edwin withdraws a metal drink flask from the back pocket of his jeans. Unscrewing the lid, he takes a swig of the exceedingly alcoholic whiskey, before holding it out to Lukas.

"Our dear frien' Laughs in th'Face uh Death tol' uh neat li'l tale. Uh tale whut's got loose ends. Reckon I'm th'sort whut's good fer doin' jes' dat."

[Edwin Morr] ((Addendum))

"... Fer tyin' up loose ends."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas steps away from the door as Edwin comes into sight. There's a small caged bulb by the rooftop entrance into the Brotherhood, but it's off. In the light of the moon, the Shadow Lords are as their names imply: shadowy, more darkness than clarity.

He accepts the flask, sniffing over the mouth once, grimacing at the sharp burn of ethanol fumes. "What is this, moonshine?" -- an offhand question. He takes a swig, passes it back. "What did you have in mind?"

[Edwin Morr] "Well... A li'l sum'in' I've had sittin' 'roun', gittin' more potent. Reckon it'd pass fer 'shine."

Then, still grinning, Edwin takes back the flask and downs another swig before continuing. The shadow-faced No Moon replaces the lid and puts it in his back pocket before continuing.

His grin widens... Becomes the merest hint unpleasant.

"Oh, th'rel'tive. Seems ta me th'Wyrm ain't one fer wastin' material. So, more'n likely he's still 'live. Either fer breedin', infermation, or ta be used 'gainst us later. Decoy our dear frien' Joey inta givin' em sum'in'. Sum'in' intended ta bust him loose, er sum'in' ta tell 'em where th'Caern is... Sum'in' uh sly'n' devious enemy might use 'gainst uh gal like Joey."

Edwin shrugs, and takes a deep sigh.

"Seems ta me, uh feller like dat... Well... Feller like dat might jes' be prayin' fer death. Feller like dat's prolly hopin' it'll find 'im sooner'n later, so's he cain't hurt dem he loves."

Edwin's grin grows truly unpleasant, and there seems almost an edge to the shadowed gaze beneath the baseball cap's bill.

"I'm of th'pinion we gives 'im dat. Kill 'im, a'fore'e gits th'chance ta git used 'gainst us fer sum'in' real unt'ward.

Her failin' fer lettin' it go dis long... Reckon's our place ta stand in where th'other tribes falter. 'R so's I been tol'."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] There's a faint furrow in the Ahroun's brow, visible by the way moonlight casts over it. His eyes, so glitteringly clear by day, are lost in the hollows of his eye orbits. He folds his arms over his chest, bows his head for a moment in thought, then speaks quietly and frankly.

"It's my opinion that Matthew Oliver is lost. He was in the possession of Dancers for hours, and then he fell into their grasp again. We have to err on the side of caution and assume he's already been turned, willingly or otherwise, and that the man he was is not the man he is now.

"If he shows up again, it's always been my intention to find out exactly what he knows and what he's compromised to the Hive before killing him. He may have been of the Fenrir, but he's of the Wyrm now.

"What you're proposing, though, seems riskier than that. Are you telling me you want to sneak into the Hive and assassinate him there?"

[Edwin Morr] Edwin considers a few moments, watching the Wyrmbreaker's response.

"Well... If'n he's turned, seems ta me dey ain't gonna be keepin' 'im un'er lock'n' key. So in dat respect, no, not sneakin' into th'Hive, necessar'ly.

But I don' think it'd be uh bad idea if'n he's ta somehow git kilt on uh foray outta th'nest.

Terr'ble thangs like dat happen all th'time dis world..."

A moment passes, two... While the No Moon lets his words sink in.

"I'm proposin' takin' some time ta keep an' eye on th'feller, seein' if'n he moves, when, where, an' so forth. An' assassinatin' 'im proper at th'most opportune moment ta git dat done.

Discreet like... So's 'is rel'tives don' need ta worry 'bout fun'ral arrangements'r nuthin'."

What was being said between the lines was clear... Kill the turned kin without Get of Fenris involvement. Make it a Shadow Lord matter.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] What's said between the lines doesn't faze Lukas. It doesn't even make him bat an eyelash. As far as the Ahroun is concerned, Matthew Oliver stopped being a Fenrir matter as soon as he was lost to the Hive. Twice.

It's as he said: he may have been of the Fenrir. He's of the Wyrm now.

So that's not what he's mulling over, brow furrowed. That's not what gives him pause. After some time, he says, "I'll allow you to track Matthew Oliver's activities outside the Moraine Hills and to take him out if you see a clean opportunity. If he goes past publically accessible areas of the state park, though, you are not to follow him under any circumstances. Your own safety is your top priority."

This isn't sentiment. It's pragmatism. Lukas adds, "The last thing we need now is for a Garou of the Sept to follow Oliver into the Hive's hands."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [less watch moar play.]

[.fly.] [i jus got home! i'll watch if'n i wanna!]

[Edwin Morr] Edwin grins and nods, bowing in an overly grandiose gesture...

"Ye uh so li'l faith."

Then, he chuckles darkly, straightening.

"Reckon I c'n play by dem rules. Also reckon'd ya'd wanna know a'fore I done it 'sall."

Then, a shrug...

"Dat's 'bout all I wanted ta cover t'night."

The shaded gaze watches Wyrmbreaker quietly, waiting for dismissal or whatever else Lukas had in mind.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas nods -- acknowledgment that Edwin can play by 'dem rules', agreement that he'd want to know about it.

A moment or two pass. Then he speaks again: "Lonna." Just that one word for a while, a name hanging in the air. When he picks up again, it's quieter, "You were close to her, weren't you?"

[Edwin Morr] Edwin now stares at Lukas darkly with those shaded eyes... His grin remaining transfixed on his lips. Beneath the surface, Rage danced... The wolf threatened to overwhelm the man that was Edwin Morr.

When he answers, it's only after the whiskey flask is again withdrawn, the lid removed, the top pressed to his lips... A feigned and empty swallow as his tongue pressed against the opening... Preventing the run of moonshine down his throat.

Then, he holds out the flask for Wyrmbreaker.

"Why?"

((Manipulation + Subterfuge + Fox, diff = 6, wp))
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 4, 6, 6, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6) [WP]

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [counterroll! how good was that lie?]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] There's a pause; a silence. Too dark up here to see Lukas's eyes, but Edwin can feel them anyway: penetrating, observant, steady on his bland everyman's face.

"Because she died," he says steadily. "Because I was there."

He accepts the flask, then. He takes a token sip. Hardly seems appropriate to toast a kinswoman's death.

"Don't pretend it meant nothing to you, Leaves-No-Trace. You're the one that told me a long time ago: you put up a front to maintain an image, but the cold honorless bastard you pretend to be is not who you are."

[Edwin Morr] Edwin takes the flask back, again pressing it to his lips. His tongue again closes the opening, and he feigns another swallow before handing it back to Wyrmbreaker. Then, he stares quietly... Watching...

"She died. Ya were dere.

Mebbe I'm ever' bit as col' an' honorless's dey say."

A beat...

"Whut're ya after, e'sactly, Wyrmbreaker? Whutcha tryin' ta git outta me?"

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] This time Lukas doesn't take the flask. He answers Edwin instead, instantly: "I'm trying to see if she mattered to a brother of the tribe. Because if she did, and if you had thought of claiming her on your mind, then I'm sorry I couldn't keep her alive. And I'll answer whatever questions you have.

"But if she didn't, then it's not to you that I owe apology or explanation."

[Edwin Morr] Edwin's chuckle is a dark thing... A terrible thing... And it's heard with every twist of the cap on the flask. It seemed a promise of horrors...

The flask disappears in his pocket, and for once, Edwin doesn't dissemble. The look that greets Lukas is nigh unto hatred itself.

"Oh, make no mistake... She mattered ta me.

An' when't comes ta sorry, I'll cut it out wit' m'own knife, once th'time comes. But you ain't th'one I want so bad..."

Teeth flash white in the darkness... As the grinning, forgettably featured No Moon speaks and starts to walk away.

"No... Dey's some thangs ya jes' cain't say sorry fer.

Jes' ask th'Hatfields. 'R th'McCoys."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Leaves No Trace," Wyrmbreaker's tone is almost offhand, "we're not done yet."

He waits for Edwin to turn. He takes a few steps forward, closing the distance until they're within a few feet again.

The question is frank: "Who are you angry at?"

[Edwin Morr] Edwin turns, still grinning that terrible grin. Face to face with Lukas, watching him...

"Why, th'Wyrm uh course. Same critter we're all fightin', right?"

The baseball cap shades the features, but in the darkness, Edwin flushes ever so slightly...

"Why'dya think I's off'rin' ta clean up th'Get's mess?"

((C'mon Kahseeno!

Manipulation + Subterfuge + Fox, diff = 6))
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 6, 6, 8, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "I don't think that's true."

This time Lukas doesn't wait; doesn't take time to read the Ragabash's face; doesn't even try to pierce the flawless nuances and cadences of his words.

"I think you can and do make just about anything sound true. But I don't think that's true."

A beat. He is watching Edwin now, looking at him carefully. "I think you're angry at everyone there that night because we put the Veil above the life of a kinswoman that mattered to you. I think you're angry at me because I put my mate above a kinswoman you might've claimed as your own. I think you're angry at Theron because he put a kinswoman of his pack and tribe over a kinswoman who was neither.

"And I think you're angry at yourself because you never claimed Lonna. Because I think you know the choices we made that night were made in defense of the Veil and our kin. Because you think things may have been different if you had claimed her. If we were protecting two kinswomen of Thunder instead of one."

[Edwin Morr] Edwin watches Lukas dissect what he sees to be the truth, and he cannot help but chuckle... A horrible sound indeed, given the subject at hand. Forgettable features spread wide in a grin that held no mirth.

His hands part, palms raised to the sky in feigned helplessness.

"Well... Ya c'n lead uh horse ta water, butcha cain't make't drink. Don' reckon us beatin'r heads 'gainst th'wall's gonna solve dis'ne. You'll believe whutcher gonna whutever I says.

If'n I cain't convince I'm speakin' true... Mebbe we're best served callin' quits a'fore we git all worked up over't."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [pause/wrap, depending on whether or not we catch each other within a reasonable span of time!]

[Edwin Morr] ((Thanks for the rp Damon; gotta admit, it's been a good one.))