play by play.

[August Grant] It was passed dinner time - thus, the Brotherhood's downstairs dining room had mostly cleared out. Several people were still scattered about, however - including a young blonde woman with enough breeding that even a Silver Fang might not turn their nose up at it.

She sat at one of the two person tables off to the side. No one was with her, but it didn't seem to bother her - it looked like she'd just finished dinner and was now nibbling on a piece of chocolate cake dripping with chocolate sauce. The kin who ran this establishment knew her well - and new how she liked her desert.

Her blonde hair was neatly pulled up. Her features fine, fresh. Her attire was a little old fashioned, a button up shirt and a knee length jean skirt. She looked like she might have just fallen off of the turnip truck, actually. But, is was no matter - there was something else that was usually noticed first about August. The kinswoman was pregnant. Very pregnant in fact. There was no hiding it now.

[Victor Oseragighte] He has kept to himself largely since arriving, taking up a room at the bording house. He descends tonight to find something to eat. By now they knew that he was on a pretty strict diet, and when he takes a seat silently his plate is loaded with meat and little else save for a few garnishings his system should be able to handle (after all, even a wolf was not a total carnivore).

He takes his seat at a table nearby, nodding politely as he settled down. Victor is dressed simply; blue jeans, red and gray polo shirt, hard-toed boots.

[August Grant] A slender hand rose in greeting - and in that hand, was a fork, with a small piece of cake on it. She wiggled it a bit in a wave and smiled, then proceeded to eat the cake.

She wasn't the type of kin who could pick out just who was who on sight - but, since he seemed to have come from upstairs.. well - then he was likely a friend. All-in-all, August was just a nice girl.. and it showed.

[Victor Oseragighte] The wave gives him pause and he returns it, smiling back. He looks around a moment before rising, taking his tray, nodding to the empty seat across from her, a silent request to join her, with just a gesture and a look.

[August Grant] "Sure.. sure.." She grinned and reached across the table to move her items from where they sprawled over her 'half' of the table.. so that he could have some room. It wasn't much, just a few glasses, a book - on pregnancy no less - and her chocolate cake.

"Hi!" Yup, she was for sure bubbly today. "I'm August." Her fork was set down - she must have felt introductions were important. Thus, a soft hand was offered out.

[Victor Oseragighte] He sits and is about to dig in when she offers her hand. Fork goes down and a smile spreads as he accepts it carefully over their meals, a firm, simple shake. "Victor." His accent is not American, though with just one word it can be difficult to place.

[August Grant] She shakes the hand and then releases it - her own hand going to wrap around her glass of milk. She takes a small sip, and waits for him to take a few bites of food before she continues on.

"I don't think I've seen you around before.. new in town?"

[Victor Oseragighte] He nods as he starts to eat, answering her only once his mouth was not full. "Week and a half or so. Still getting to know the place. People. Lived here once as a kid, though." Aside from the meat on his plate he has a tall glass of milk and another of water.

[August Grant] "Is it treating you well so far..?" A beat. "The people of this city that is? Is it much like you remember?"

[Victor Oseragighte] "Not much. Don't remember too much, though. Was pretty young." It is readily apparent that Victor doesn't use two words where one will do, his speaking style terse but not impolite. "Jury's still out, but... I am mostly liking it here."

[Edwin Morr] ((BotME))
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 6, 7, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)

[August Grant] Well.. lately her company has been less than idea. Either, no one, aka an empty pack house, or one very odd Shadow Lord - whom she was entirely undecided if she enjoyed speaking to or not. So, a few words was bette than no words. Plus, it seemed that August had enough words for them both.

"Ah.. I see. Well.. I do hope that it turns out well for you. It's a fairly nice city. I showed up in the winter - not so much fun.. but the weather is wonderful now.. so at least you arrived now." A beat. "How's the food? I think they do an excellent job here.."

[Edwin Morr] ((Houdini trick))
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6) Re-rolls: 2

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] The Brotherhood isn't quite so jampacked these days as it was, but there's still constant noise, constant activity. The kitchen's bustling downstairs -- Sunday dinners, families coming in from the neighborhood to enjoy hearty, homestyle, vague ethnic meals. Somewhere down the upstairs hallways, someone's playing music. Someone in the shower drops a bottle of shampoo -- a series of loud, echoing thumps culminating in a exclaimed Shit!

The door to room 2 opens. Lukas comes out, rumpled, yawning. Like so many other Garou, his schedule's turned around, nocturnal. 9pm's a perfectly good time to wake up. His black hair is tousled. He's in a plain t-shirt, light grey; drawstring slacks, dark grey. He has a tumbler in hand and a toothbrush. Padding up the hall to grab fresh towels out of the linen closet, he passes the common room -- peers in squinting at the lights, yawns again.

"Hey," is his offhanded greeting toward the occupants. Then he's out of sight. A cupboard thumps open and shut. Coming back, he has a bath towel over his shoulder, and he's scrubbing sleep out of his eyes with the heel of his hand. "The herbed rack of lamb is first-class."

[Victor Oseragighte] He smiled and nodded again. She gets the impression that despite his interest in his meal and his quiet demeanor he is listening intently to what she says. When Lukas comes by he nods to him as well. A cant of his head at the rack of lamb... that DID sound good. And probably entirely edible for him. There were downsides about his change in diet since his first change... and then there were upsides. "They've been very... accomodating for me. I'm thankful for that."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [doh. lemme revise.]

[August Grant] "Wonderful." Another small bite of cake. "Are you staying here? It's a rather nice place. I stayed here for a time, until I found somewhere else to stay. It was very nice to be welcomed with open arms and the what not. Though, it was difficult to make an impression here.. so many other 'family' members running around and such." Another bright smile graced her soft features and lightly glossed lips.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] The Brotherhood isn't quite so jampacked these days as it was, but there's still constant noise, constant activity. The kitchen's bustling downstairs -- post-Sunday-dinner cleanup. Somewhere down the upstairs hallways, someone's playing music. Someone in the shower drops a bottle of shampoo -- a series of loud, echoing thumps culminating in a exclaimed Shit!

The door to room 2 opens. Lukas comes out, rumpled, yawning. Like so many other Garou, his schedule's turned around, nocturnal. 9pm's a perfectly good time to wake up. His black hair is tousled. He's in a plain t-shirt, light grey; drawstring slacks, dark grey. He has a tumbler in hand, a towel and a toothbrush, and he disappears into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later he's padding down the stairs, marginally more awake now, groomed, clean. Passing through the kitchen, he grabs an apple out of a basket and otherwise stays out of the staff's way. The doublehinged door opens with a light thump from the shoulder. He heads for the bakery station and its bagels, passing August and Victor on his way.

"Hey," he says, and, "the herbed rack of lamb is first-class. Bagel's aren't bad either."

He leaves a few dollar bills atop the bakery counter. There's more money there -- off-hours donations and payments from other residents who've nabbed a scone here, a bagel there. Lukas bends, hands on knees, to study the contents of the display case with great interest.

[Victor Oseragighte] "Nowhere else to go, yeah. Seems a nice place, though." The truth was, there were some people he figured would take him in, but he wanted to get to know the locals here, and so it was better not to rely on friends and kin for the moment. "I find that if you are patient... you will stake your place. Time enough for everything," he added with an easy smile.

[August Grant] Hazel eyes shifted momentairly to the new arrival.. and all of his rage. It was almost impossible to miss. For all the times she'd passed him in the hall when she lived here, there was no clear recolection of meeting him. Then again, she knew he was important and well.. she is pretty much at the bottom of the importance totem pole - so it wasn't surprising.

"Hello." She responds with a friendly smile and a little finger wiggle. "The bagels are the best. I had one this morning, actually."

And then, breifly to Victor. "Very wise words.. I believe that as well.."

[Edwin Morr] The night was warm, scarcely cooled from the daytime heat and light that had scoured the concrete jungle below. The moon's lidless eye, widening by the day now, stared down without pause from the heavens above.

Within the Brotherhood, it might as well have not existed.

Still, it was said that walls had ears. Some nights that was more true than others... Nights like tonight were prime examples. A figment, or nightmare, depending on whom you asked, made its way within the confines of the downstairs, skulking from shadow to shadow in an overly fluid, hard to follow fashion.

To most, it would be as nothing... until it simply blinked into existence where before there had been nothing. ((7 suxx at diff 8 to see him ahead of time))

The creature looked like a man, a man named Edwin Morr. A forgettable figure wholly unassuming in his countenance, whose face could be anyone's or no one's without much help. Eyes that were gray, or perhaps blue, stared from the shadows of a baseball cap worn low upon his brow. His shirt was of a simple gray/black flannel pattern, long-sleeved in spite of the warmth. A black tee shirt peeks from beneath the overshirt, as did the worn hiking boots from the legs of the Wal-Mart brand blue jeans he wore. The whole of him seemed a cookie cutter, as though his ensemble was as forgettable and easily replicated as was he...

The only part that stood out at all, the only sigil or device to his clothing, was the Fox Racing emblem upon the bill of the baseball cap, done in raised gray thread against the darker black background.

A lopsided liar's grin split the forgettably featured man... A grin wholly in keeping with the apparent breeding flowing from him. For all his forgettable nature, there was something about him that whispered of secrets and darkness... Shadow Lord to any who had ever seen the like.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] When Lukas came here a year and a half ago, he was a loyal Beta, a good packmate, a facilitator and righthand man, but no leader in his own right. He was a Cliath of no great renown, worthy only of a name more descriptive or unusual than the most basic, undefined and undefining name a fledgling Ahroun could possibly have: Wyrmbreaker.

A year and a half is a long time in the young, unfettered Sept of the Maelstrom. Long enough to break many Garou; long enough to make the rest. These days that name of his sounds more like a title, an honor in and of itself. When he introduces himself or is introduced by another, it's as an Alpha three times over: pack, tribe, auspice. No one's ever tried to frame him with another, better name because it's no longer necessary. It's the other way around now. His name doesn't define him; he defines his name.

For all that, sometimes that newfound responsibility and respect still surprises Lukas himself, and sometimes -- times like this, when he's offduty and relaxed, bumming around what serves as his home -- he hardly seems to live up to the significance he's attained. He's looking in the cold case, thoughtfully chewing his lower lip; he's looking up over the top of the case and grinned suddenly and disarmingly at August, saying, "Want another one?" as he straightens.

He's grabbed himself an everything bagel: seven or eight different seeds atop slightly moist, dense bread. Some cream cheese, too.

[Victor Oseragighte] His answer to August is a knowing smile and a nod, going quiet once more as he eats. While he seems quite willing to answer questions, it does not appear he will offer much more unless he feels the need to. "None for me. Intolerant."

[August Grant] "Oh, no thank you.." A hand motions to her now empty plate of chocolate cake.. before that hand comes to rest upon her very obviously swelling belly. "I don't between the cake, and the baby, there is much room for anything else in there. Thank you very much for the kind offer though.

You are welcome to pull up a chair and join us, if you'd like?"

It was only then when the kinswoman picked out the man who seemed to appear out of no where. Odd.. very odd.

[Victor Oseragighte] Edwin must have appeared in a blindspot for him; he did not notice the man until August reacted, catching her startlement and then turning. Since he did not see him appear from nowhere, he failed to understand what had surprised her so, canting his head to look up to the man.

[Edwin Morr] Edwin grins that liar's grin, seated calmly at a table near the bar. A metal flask is withdrawn from a pocket, and with dexterous fingers, he quietly unscrews the lid. Victor's canted head and quiet gaze are met in kind; Edwin stares back at him the whole while. Then, without averting his gaze, the flask is raised to Edwin's lips and he takes a swig therefrom.

He didn't make much of a face thereafter... But one who watched closely might see it. Whatever it was in the flask, it had to be alcoholic to some degree to evince that reaction.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas's crystalline eyes drop briefly to August's belly. "Congratulations. I didn't realize. Paul's your mate, isn't he?"

As he speaks, he's deftly slicing a bagel in half, placing them in a toaster oven. While he waits, he peels the little plastic square of cream cheese open, and only then -- all of a sudden -- notices Edwin's appeared.

That's almost literally true. The Ragabash has a way of moving about unnoticed, only to casually turn up when the eye finally catches up. Or rather, when he lets the eye catch up. Lukas's friendly demeanor shifts somewhat; he looks at his tribesman thoughtfully for a moment, then turns to get his bagel out of the toaster.

"Have you guys met? This is Edwin. Edwin: August, Victor."

[August Grant] The young woman shrugged slightly. "I live with Paul, and I love him - but no, I am not offically his. But, thank you for the congratulations.. only another two-ish months and we'll have a new little kin or trueborn running around here.." She smiled brightly and then glanced back to her company. He was the quiet sort, wasn't he?

[Edwin Morr] ((brb - phone))

[Victor Oseragighte] He notices the similarity between the two, Lukas and Edwin, something intangible yet apparent to the right instincts. A small nod is offered to Edwin, still wondering what it was that had so surprised August. Something he'd missed seeing, he guessed.

He looked back to her and smiled, dark eyes dropping a moment to her stomach before rising once more hers. "Congratulations."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Well," slathering cream cheese generously onto his toasted late-night breakfast now, "my congratulations to him as well." He drops his bagel halves on a plate, grabs a carton of whole milk out of the cold case, and comes out from behind the bakery counter. "Thanks for the invite," he adds, "but I'm going to have a quick word with Edwin first."

Which is where he heads: the shadowy, sly creature's table, setting his plate down before pulling out the chair across from him.

[August Grant] The young woman just smiled. Men never were good at math. She hadn't been in town long enough for this child to be Paul's, but there was no need to correct him. Plus, he was already off to speak to the sudden appearing one. No matter! The young woman sipped at her milk again.

"So, Victor.. anything interesting going on?"

[Victor Oseragighte] Interestng? He paused at that question, looking to be considering it. What would she consider interesting? The Spiral attack? The bonfire? He did not actually know. He took a long sip of milk and finally shrugged, answering with a dry chuckle. "I am not certain what would you consider interesting," he admitted, a straight-forward truth.

[August Grant] "Well - let's put it this way. I live in a pratically empty packhouse.. save Erza and he barely talks to me.. and then I come here and chat with the kin.. and go to work on weekdays. That's it. So, anything out of the line of that is interesting. But.. I know, it was a rather vague topic.. I guess I'm just out of stuff to ask.. surprise.. even I run out of words somtimes.." A sight smile.

[Victor Oseragighte] "Ah. Well. Spirals causing trouble. I suppose that would and should interest you then. Had some trouble with two last night. Afraid they're still at large. I think.... otherwise I am a bit new here to know much of what is happening. Sorry." He chuckled and realized that she was looking for conversation, and he was a better listener than speaker.

[August Grant] "Ooh?" She perked some. "You met two? All alone.. and lived? Well.. that is a story indeed!" That kinda indicated that he should tell it.. but if he didn't want to share - then, she'd just let it go.

"Thats so much more interesting than anything that I've ever done.." She chuckled slightly.

[Edwin Morr] Edwin nods in greetings to both Victor and August, a sly wink for the latter of the two while he waited. Then, Wyrmbreaker approaches... The shaded gaze shifts to him.

The liar's grin never falters.

"Now, jes' which quick word ought we be havin', e'sactly?"

[Victor Oseragighte] "Not a very good story. I almost did not live." He frowned and closed his eyes, then opened them slowly. "Grant Park. I was talking to Adrian. Get kin? One of the first I met here. Of a sudden, he is pulled into the fountain and I am blindsided by what seems to be a dog. Adrian is being.... drowned." There is something in the way he says this that indicates a special horror for him, more than natural. "In the fountain. I took the war skin, but... maybe because it was my moon, maybe the cowardice of it." Maybe the drowning. "I lost control. I remember now, after... I felled the 'dog.' A woman, when she reverted. Turned on the man who had Adrian. He was in the nearman, I think. He never stopped choking him, even when he turned to deal with me. One-handed, he fends me off, knocks me out, but it is with his bare fist, so I awaken in moments, come to my senses. Too weak to try to fight him directly, I had to crawl to the other and take her hostage with my knife so that he would release Adrian. I... healed some, but was still suffering wounds from the woman's teeth. He took her. I could not stop him. I managed to get Adrian breathing again.... and then Mama Ankle-Biter showed up to heal us. No glory. Just survival."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] The Ahroun settles across from the Ragabash. Out of his usual finery, in lounge pants and an undershirt instead, he seems paradoxically larger; rougher around the edges. His eyes settle on Edwin for a moment, but rather than replying, he simply pushes half the bagel across the table to his tribesman.

Hospitality. Neutrality. Old world manners and primeval customs.

"I don't know," he says. "You took off pretty fast last time. I didn't feel like our conversation was quite finished."

[August Grant] She.. blinked and then looked a little surprised. Wow, that was -quite- the story there. "Oh my goodness Victor.. That's horrible.." She frowned slightly thinking it over.

"Thank goodness you were there to save Adrian. Is he ok now? Did he go home with his kin.. or even better a true? Does he need someone to look after him?" Apparently, her mind had gone a different direction. Her protective, caring, instincts had kicked in.

[Victor Oseragighte] He had to smile at her concern, reaching over to place a hand over hers, silently comforting her, calming her. "He is alright now. I saw to that." He did not add the part where he was dead certain, based on things they had said, that the two Spirals were after Adrian specifically.

[Edwin Morr] "Well..."

Edwin slides the flask across the table to Wyrmbreaker... the smell from it is somehow excessively caustic and alcoholic all in the same turn. And faintly... it smells of corn. Though surely no whiskey sold legally had quite the content the liquor within the metal flask does.

Its scent alone answers that question.

"Seemed ta me ya'd made up yer min' 'bout whut comes ne'st...

Ain't too bright fer uh feller ta beat 'is head 'gainst uh wall jes' ta prove he's stubb'rn 'nough ta do't."

[August Grant] "Oh good." It did seem to wash the worry from her face. Her hand turned under his and then squeezed his for reassurance. This was a scary place to live sometimes - and it seemed like almost a scarier place to raise a baby.

"I am so glad that things worked out at least.."

[Victor Oseragighte] "They did. And will," he assured her again firmly. With all he had been told of the recent threat to kin, he guessed she'd heard some of it and was probably rightly concerned.

[August Grant] Well, yes - she'd heard some. Mostly from Simon.. and a little from Erza. Then again, how much should the little Coggie kin trust the Shadow Lords? They always seemed to be up to something.. especially Erza!

But mostly, she'd been left in the dark about the exact nature of the threat. "Thank you.." It was at that point, August pulled her hand back and neatly rested in her lap.

"I suppose I should be more careful about going out now days.. especially after what happened to the poor kin last eve.."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] It's courtesy rather than any real desire for Edwin's paintpeeling moonshine that has Lukas taking the flask and slugging it back. He can already feel it burning down his gullet when he passes it across the table and picks up his half a bagel. And his whole milk. Good nutritious breakfast.

"I wasn't aware there was anything to make up my mind about," he replies mildly. "It's more: I was there. I led that battle. If you have questions, I'll answer them. If you'd rather hold onto your grudge, then it's your mind that's made up, Edwin. Not mine."

[Victor Oseragighte] He nodded to this and murmured. "There is danger right now. These Spirals attack kin. Very much on purpose. That will not be let to stand. But... until then? Public places," he advised softly.

[August Grant] "Well.. I don't go much of anywhere save here, the packhouse and work on Simon's advice. It's just the back and forth that worries me sometimes. I know I'm safe here, and there - but, I can't just not go to the store and everything. I do have a pack to support.." Somewhat. She cooks every day. No one eats it, save when Paul's home. But, she dutifuly does it anyway..

[Victor Oseragighte] He nodded in understanding. "Go with another when possible. When not, go in the day, keep where there are people. Even Spirals don't want to be looked at too closely."

[August Grant] "Thank you.. again. But for now, I should be heading home. One of the kin in the kitchen get off now and she's agreed to drive me back. So, I should go with her. I will be careful. You be careful too Victor.." Then, the blonde pregnant girl stood and gathered her book and personal items.

[August Grant] (Ok, must depart. Cold medicine is kicking in.. thanks for the play all.)

And then August headed off for the kitchen to head home.

[Victor Oseragighte] He smiled and nodded his farewell to her, raising his glass of milk in a brief salute.

(( Enjoyed! have fun! ))

[Edwin Morr] Edwin chuckles at this even while ripping a small, bite-sized piece off of the bagel he'd been offered. The sound was sardonic, wry... but not without its measure of mirth.

"So... Yer tellin' me dat believin' I got some grudge 'gainst somebody udder'n our en'mies ain't you makin' up yer own min' on th'matter?"

He shakes his head, still chuckling... Pausing only to devour the bite sized piece of bagel. Then, retaking his flask of liquor in hand, Edwin lets his shaded gaze drift to the reflective surface briefly...

Before it again returns to Lukas.

"A'ight... Supposin' uh feller was curious. Supposin' I gits ta wond'rin' how three shaddah's walk while one whut ain't gits kilt.

Supposin' I's ta ask fer th'play by play."

He continues to grin that liar's grin the whole while, as though he were ready to laugh all over again at some macabre joke only he and the shadows knew. It only changed, ever so slightly, following each swig of the liquor in the flask... And then only to tighten briefly, in the manner of one well accustomed to its ilk.

[Victor Oseragighte] With her gone he ate in silence, though he did keep a watch from where he was on Lukas and Edwin, curious still about the latter and his effect on August.

[Simon] Simon slipped quietly into the Brotherhood's common area with a smile on his face. His curious eyes wandered and his smile brightened as he slipped into the room. Graceful as ever, the Full Moon didn't appear to have any agenda or direction he was apparently just paying the place a visit. Out on patrol and as Hatchet once said everyone takes their turn looking after the brotherhood.

[Victor Oseragighte] Victor's earned his own keep offering to do odd jobs for the place, having proven to be fairly skilled in such matters. He does not at all mind doing a little hard work to pay for the room and board while he decides where his place is.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] There's no humor on Lukas's face now, no smile. He watches the Ragabash levelly as he chuckles and grins, all shadows and lies. Then he looks around once, ascertaining that the Brotherhood was closed down now, the humans herded home, the kin at work mopping the floors and closing down shop.

Victor's there too, possibly listening. This does not appear to deter Wyrmbreaker.

When he turns back, there's a certainty in his air. He picks his bagel up, holds it in his teeth, and dumps the crumbs onto the tabletop. With his palm he spreads them in a thin, even layer -- an arena on which he then sketches with his fingertip. There's surety in his motions, in his mapping. Lukas is a more than capable warrior, a dangerous foe to face, but he is first and foremost a tactician, a strategist.

"My mate and I were at the Blue Chalk cafe," he says, drawing a long rectangle. "The front door was here," he points at one of the short sides, "and there were windows along that wall. The back door was here," the opposite side, "and there was an office here, restrooms here." He blocks off smaller rectangles in the back corners on either side of the back door. "There were cameras in the corners, four of them surveying the cafe area. The counter was here. Our table was here."

A semicircle along one of the long sides represents the former. A circle is drawn toward the back, not far from the hallway to the restrooms, the office and the back door, representing the latter.

"Lonna joined us. She sat at our table. Then Theron, who came to us as well. A waitress approached like this -- " he indicates a track from the counter to the table, " -- and vomited on our table. We tried to herd her into the restroom. She transformed before our eyes, sloughing her skin off and becoming a monstrosity. Others around the cafe were beginning to change as well, here, here, here, here and here."

Dots scatter the cafe between the Gaian's table and the door.

"Dani&+269;ka went for the office immediately to try and disable the security cameras, to stop the upload feed, and to delete all video that was already taken. Lonna headed the other way, toward the windows in the front. I think she wanted to block them somehow."

He starts drawing arrows in the crumbs, like a football coach explaining a complicated play. One arrow swoops toward the office; another toward the front wall.

"One fomor went after my mate. Another went after Lonna. Three closed on Theron and I. One was here, still transforming." He stabs a finger close to the front wall. Close to Lonna.

"Theron and I held our ground to keep the fomori out of the office. We were in homid by my command, to preserve the Veil until Dani&+269;ka could get the cameras down. We injured one of them, but it was a war of attrition. Meanwhile, the one fomor close to Lonna had grabbed her, but she was uninjured."

He pauses for a moment there, taking a sip of milk.

[sorry for the screen-crusher, guys! thought i should post there before it got too much longer.]

[Victor Oseragighte] With just the few of them left, it was only natural that he'd tune in to Lukas' tale. It is evident he understands the gravity of it, too, as his face becomes very serious the more Lukas reveals.

[Simon] Simon took a seat, he didn't want to interrupt what appeared to be a possibly private meeting. He put his feet up and leaned back while glancing towards the Two. He couldn't help but pay attention to what was being discussed, it was the only thing that was happening in the place right now after all.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] The mug of milk is set aside, then, and the Ahroun leans forward to continue his account of that fateful night. There's an irony in this. Garou have died by the dozens in this city; for the most part, their stories are woven into song and sung over their burning bodies at their Gathering. None have had their tales laid out like this, so clinically, in such cold, stark detail: stripped to the motions, to the events, to actions and their consequences that led to the inevitable end.

Then again, Garou are born to die. They have no problem accepting the death of their own kind, or even their own deaths. When their kin die, when their loved ones are stripped away, it's a different story. An unexpected shock. Something to grieve over in all its many and bitter stages.

"Another of the fomori began to make for the office," he continues, "and Theron and I both turned on it. The other three close to us were alternating attacks on Theron and I, biting and clawing, trying to vomit their filth into our faces to taint us. We fought them hand to hand. We were quick, but we did little damage. Across the room, Lonna was fending off the fomor on her when the other one finished his transformation. He went after Lonna."

For the first time now, Lukas pauses, his brow furrowing, trying to remember. He closes his eyes for a moment, bringing the scene to mind. It wasn't like this when it happened. It wasn't cold and clinical. It was bloody and raw, normal men and women transforming into monsters, peeling their own fucking faces off, shrieking, vomiting, seizing on the floor.

it wasn't cold. It wasn't clinical. It was harrowing, chaotic, desperate.

"Then Dani&+269;ka got the cameras off. Theron and I snapped into our warforms. Almost at the same time, the fomor that had a grip on Lonna took a bite out of her. She was wounded. Not direly, but not lightly either. The fomor was going after her. I wasn't certain that he would kill her, but it was a possibility."

There's a pause, heavy. The Ahroun's hand draws into a loose fist, thumb rubbing along his index finger for a second. It's the only sign of tension. When he goes on, his voice is as level and even as before.

"There wasn't enough time to kill the fomori closing on the office and cross the room to Lonna. There was time for only one or the other. So if you want me to explain to you how the kin of Thunder lived and the kin of Unicorn died, then you answer you want is very simple."

His eyes flick up across the table, implacably blue, the color of a glacial's heart; the color of an alcohol fire, pale and almost hueless.

"Because I chose to defend my mate. And Theron chose to defend the kin of Thunder."

A second elapses. The rest of the story is short.

"This one went down in one bite." He wipes one of the X's off the map. "Theron went after this one, injured it. This one," he points at the one on the other side of the map, near Lonna, "killed Lonna. Theron almost frenzied, but he kept his head. The fomori dropped Lonna and came toward us. Another bite did for this one," another X wiped away, "and this one," and another, "and this one," and another.

"Of the last two, I think I finished one and my mate the other. After Lonna died, it was all over in seconds. But by the time we went to her, she was beyond our help."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [er. "then THE answer you want is very simple."]

[Edwin Morr] ((Houdini bit))
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 6, 7, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1

[Edwin Morr] Edwin watches it all with that liar's grin upon his face, though with his eyes narrowed, the grin seems far less pleasant by the end of things. The metal flask disappears in a pocket, and Edwin stands...

"Reckon so...

See ya 'roun', Lukas."

With that, Edwin's form fades swiftly from view, disappearing into the shadows from whence he came.

[Victor Oseragighte] It's his moon, and he cannot forget that. He growls, a low sound from his chest, despite being in homid, and lowers his head in silent remorse for that loss they speak of. These kinslayers needed to be stopped. He had no doubt this was probably related to the Spirals somehow. It seemed they had specifically gone after kin, by this tale. When he looks up again, the other man is gone, and he blinks. So. Maybe that is why August had been so startled.

[Edwin Morr] ((Night folks; thank sfor the rp))

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [night man!]

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] And that's it. No comment one way or another; no anger, no acceptance. None that Edwin would show, anyway. Nothing but a noncommittal phrase tossed out, and then -- nothing at all.

Left behind, alone at the table now with its map drawn on crumbs, Lukas's hand clenches into a tighter fist; he lets a breath hiss slowly out between his teeth.

Then his eyes flick up; hit Victor's directly. "She was a kin of Unicorn," he tells the man. There's no reason to preface it or explain it; no reason for either of them to pretend that Victor hadn't been listening, "warded by Lila Waking-Dream, mated to none. She died in the Spring."

[Victor Oseragighte] "I am sorry. I will remember." There was nothing more he could offer, not truly. Meaningless words about vengeance? The fomori were dead and she was still gone as well. Advice there was none to give. No offer he could truly make except simple condolences and the offer to remember her, though he had never known her.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas's smile is faint, a little wan. "I wasn't close to her."

This could be cold; a verbal stiff-arming. It's not, though. It's simply honest: perhaps brutally so. There are Shadow Lords like Edwin, sly, everything held beneath a layer of deceit. Then there are Shadow Lords like Lukas: unflinchingly straightforward. In the end, each is as ruthless as the other in its own way.

"I barely knew her," he continues. "I'm sorry she died too, but save your condolences for those who genuinely grieve." He looks down at his breakfast: his day's just beginning. There's a bit of bagel left, and he eats it, washes it down with milk. The subject change is perhaps deliberate. "You're living here now, are you?"

[Victor Oseragighte] He did not respond to ask who were the grieving parties, suspecting he'd find out. Suspecting that, really, he knew from that tale. At the questioning of his living arrangements he merely nodded, allowing Lukas opportunity to go on with whatever point he was working toward with that query.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] There's no real point, as it turns out. Lukas simply nods to the reply. "It's a good place," he says, offhandedly. Then he pushes the crumbs together on the tabletop, sweeping them with the blade of his hand until he can wipe them off entirely into the palm of his other hand and pour them back on his plate.

That little bit of housekeeping finished, the Ahroun stands. "I'm heading out for Caern patrol," he says. "I'll see you around, Victor."

[Victor Oseragighte] Another small nod as Lukas goes and he considers that; caern patrol. Good way to learn the bawn. The area. He may have to take along some evening.