victor, simon, kin, caern.

[Marni] Grant park.

Grant park has many many things, but most important to one ravenous gnawer is a particular garbage can where the guy who does the best dogs in the whole damn city tosses his leftovers after his shift is over. Which means said garbage can now has a certain gnawer face down inside, digging for the bag that the Vendor had tossed, which is JUST out of..

"COME ON you slippery motherfucker...."

...out of reach. She stretches a bit more, and then with a crow of satisfaction, she gets the days leftover bag in hand and stands triumphantly, digging inside to see what goodies Oscar left her today...

[Jesmond Krutova] Jesmond seemed to walk everywhere these days.

It wasn't that she didn't own a car -- she did -- it was simply that said car had been purchased while she lived among a far more rural Sept of Fenrir, and its engine parts had been pilfered and rebuilt and played with so often that its innards often choked on their unique design and required the tinkering of certain Garou. Unfortunately, the Theurge who had originally built parts of her car was no longer around and she'd been forced to take it to a mechanic.

An actual mechanic, not simply a teenager with Rage and a spanner.

Lady, he'd lifted his baseball cap and scratched a stained hand through his hair, I ain't seen nothing like this done to an engine in years. So, could he fix it? Yeah, no problem, but this... is gonna take a least a week, maybe more. So, the dark-haired Nurse now walked home from shifts at Mercy Hospital, often times cutting through Grant Park late into the evening. She had no fear, no true fear of things that crawled in the shadows -- she had no true fear because most of them she'd met, or was related to.

And, those that she were neither were soon to be introduced to the pistol tucked between tissues and lipstick in her purse. It was closing on 1AM on a Saturday now, and the weather was pleasant enough that the Shadow Lord Kinswoman had shucked her coat and carried it folded over her arm, her flat shoes whispered through the grass as she cut toward a footpath.

Somewhere out there, near enough for sound to travel, something raided a garbage can and set it rattling.

[Wyrmbreaker] "You know," comes Lukas's voice from somewhere behind Marni, "the kitchen staff at the Brotherhood will let you pay in trade if you can't afford a meal. Probably beats dumpster diving for dinner."

Turn around, and there's the Shadow Lord, looking summery and pristine in a pale grey buttondown, shortsleeved; linen trousers, white. It offsets his skin, which is not merely swarthy now but genuinely tanned. His hands are clasped loosely behind his back. Spine straight. Eyes alert, sharp.

They inspect Marni for a moment, then turn away toward the click-click of still-distant footsteps. The Bone Gnawer can see his nostrils flare as he scents the air like an animal, wary and perceptive. Then he turns back.

"How have you been, Sticky Fingers?" There's courtesy in his tone.

[Simon] Wherever he stepped people seemed to step the other way. Shifting and changing their directions in order to avoid the shadowy figure making it's way through the park. This life was a lonely one, the honest truth was people avoided getting near or interacting with his kind whenever possible. They called it the curse or some such bullshit, to him it was cowardice. People were more than happy to pack up and take off to the woods for the weekend to find something to kill. Yet strangely when they found themselves face to face with something that could kill them back they ran like everything else. He didn't mind the lonely life of the garou because in his mind most of those fleeing from him weren't even worth meeting.

The stench of the city resonated within him and on most nights it churned his stomach and sickened him and those were the good nights. The look of disdain he wore was masked behind the shadows that danced and shifted over his face as he moves into and out of the light. He didn't so much move as stalk he was not a man after all, but a hunter and his prey could be any unfortunate enough to capture his attention at any given moment.

It was warm out tonight and warm enough that he didn't even need to bother with a sweater. On most nights he went without but tonight it was actually quite pleasant even comfortable. The bat he usually carried was slung over his shoulder and he whistled an almost happy little tune as his strides carried him fluidly across the parks grounds. His dark clothing did well enough to blend him into the scenery and with his dark hair on top of that it wouldn't be difficult for him to simply disappear into the shadows. Luckily he didn't appear to be hiding this evening, there was no reason to keep quiet he was simply... Passing through.

[Marni] She jumps. She can't help it. It's clear that she did not expect to hear any voice - but his in particular? Dark lashes fall to hide darker eyes as she soundlessly curses to herself. Then, by the time she turns to face him, her lips have curved into a mischief filled smile. It is, after all, her moon.

"I know - but what most folks that ain't Gnawers don't know, is that people throw away the BEST shit. Take Oscar for example. I show up every couple days to put the fear of gaia into assholes what wanna take his corner, and that night he leaves me somethin' special in the can here. All his extra dogs for the day - which makes them practically fresh, plus a passel fulla fixins too." There are, after all, many ways to 'afford' a meal.

She pulls out an individually wrapped dog, and offers it to Lukas with a glint in her eyes, daring him to join her in her feast. Either he takes it, or she opens it herself, but soon she's taking that first bite like she hasn't eaten in days. It hasn't BEEN days - but well, that's beside the point. Bonding to a ravenous totem plus pregnancy has had a curious effect on the perpetually hungry Gnawer.

How has she been? "Hungry, mostly." Honest, the answer. Not like she can tell him she's lonely as fuck and if she doesn't get laid soon she's gonna start climbing the fuckin' walls, right? (...well, she COULD, but since he already thinks so horribly of her...) "but alright. You?"

She turns toward the sound, heels clicking, and a whistler too, then returns her full attention on Lukas.

[Victor Oseragighte] He stared at the ground beneath his feet; the edge of the path, the grass beyond, the hemisphere of trashcan at the top of his vision as he leaned on it heavily. Whatever was in those sausages, it certainly wasn't 'All Beef.' The bright blue duffel bag was nuzzled up against the back of his right ankle and calf, the worn old leather backpack feeling heavy at the moment due to his position. His stomach rumbled unhappily, twice-over irate with him, first for what had just come out of it forcefully and second for what wasn't in it.

[Jesmond Krutova] Garou could stalk. They could slip in and out of a mortal's vision with the right Gift. They could cloak themselves in another aspect of reality that human beings couldn't and then suddenly pop right back out as if a slit had been drawn down thin air, which, for all intents and purposes, it had. Simon is the hunter in the shadows, Marni is the scavenger finding bounty where others of her kind see only refuse.

Wyrmbreaker was the beast that scented the air and individually identified those approaching; what they were, how they were, if they posed a threat.

Jesmond has no such preternatural abilities, she is simply walking with the in-caution of a mortal woman, her footsteps louder now as she crosses to meet the path and starts down it. Her uniform, the standard white shirt and navy slacks do not do much to conceal her. There's a name-tag pinned above her heart that identifies her as J. Krutova, no accents, her ancestry is left untold by the manufacturers of the plastic clips. It's no matter however, as its told in her scent, in the delicate addition to perfume and hand-wash. The legend of Kr&+367;tová, of her Grandfather, of her father, of a thousand forefathers that somehow melded together in this young woman with her striking eyes, and kind expression.

There's no shock or startlement when she finally sights Lukas, and the other Garou he converses with. Merely a brief consideration of whether to intrude or not, before perfunctory politeness steers her path toward her tribe's Alpha.

[Wyrmbreaker] Perhaps Marni expects Lukas to turn his nose up at the offering, or sneer in disgust. Maybe she was even hoping for such a response. The truth is, though, that Wyrmbreaker is a more feral beast than that. She might've pulled that 'dog out of a garbage can, but the Ahroun still sees it for what it is.

An offering. Instinct. The first of the kill to the higher in station.

So he takes it, his large hand closing around it wholesale. Because to deny it would be disrespectful; and more importantly, because what's offered to him is taken. No polite refusals from a Shadow Lord. He strips the wrapper off, brushes half of the onions off and leaves the rest, then takes a big bite.

"I've been well, thank you," he says, which is as courteous an answer as his question had been, but ultimately rather uninformative. He chews; considers; swallows. "This isn't half bad. A little cold, though. Does your pack have a den with a microwave?"

Footsteps closer, a kinswoman rounding a bend in the path. Lukas shifts, turning to look at her over his shoulder before turning toward her altogether.

"Ms. Kr&+367;tová." The edge of his mouth curls ironically. "Why is it that I keep running into you here at one in the morning?"

[Marni] He takes it, and she simply grabs another out of the bag, and that is what she chows down on. Her belly rumbles hungrily even as she is stuffing her face, which is exactly what it's been like the past couple weeks every minute of every day. If she weren't burning it off just as fast as she ingested it, she'd already be packing on the pounds. Fortunately, she's still as slim as ever, curvy in exactly all the right places.

She chuckles as he asks about their den though. "Nah, ain't got such fancy stuff in Mama's Cardboard Palace." It's warm and dry, and big enough for all three of them if there is need - plus more if their friendly. "Electric company ain't too keen on running line to a trash heap."

As if that's one hundred percent natural and expected - she certainly doesn't seem put out by the idea of living on the street at all - Ray, however... well. To Marni it's home. And that's enough.

She turns her attention on the kinfolk as she draws near, a little smile as she lifts her dog in greeting, but keeps right on eating.

[Victor Oseragighte] He straightened slowly and wiped at his mouth, wishing he had some water about now. Rolling his shoulders, he adjusted the straps on his pack before stooping to heft his other bag and move along, checking the address he'd been given again. Victor found a bench and sat down to unfold the map he'd bought with some of his few remaining funds, scanning for the street this 'Brotherhood of Thieves' would be on.

[Jesmond Krutova] "Mr Kvasni&+269;ka," she says with a little answering smile, stopping once she's near enough for conversation and adjusting the strap of her purse over her shoulder. The Shadow Lord Kinswoman was tall for a female, and lean, though she stopped far short of appearing undernourished and seemed more to be in possession of a naturally slim build. Her skin was fair despite the warming weather and her dark hair pinned back from her face neatly; though a lock seemed intent on trying its luck falling from behind one ear.

"Well, I'm not sure, it's either a clever ruse of mine or it's about the time when my shift ends." Jesmond's eyes shift to Marni, and she offers her a polite little nod. "Hello there."

[Simon] The scent of others calls to him, he couldn't see them immediately but he knew they were there. It was one of those characteristics that set the garou apart from the rest of humanity. Despite their form, despite their appearance they were still attuned to the instincts that have kept them alive for all these centuries.

A gathering of... Was it friends? Did he even have any friends here? Certainly there were those who he suspected would have his back but friends were a bit more solid, not unlike his pack though they weren't here, whatever they were there were they didn't stink nearly as bad as the rest of this place.

Soon enough the shadows would peel back and he would come into view of the others. The dark bat rested on his shoulders and his lips twisted into what appeared to be a smile. Was it a smile? Could 'lords smile? If they couldn't he certainly gave it a decent attempt it was enough to convince any who didn't know any better that they actually could smile at something other than the misfortune of others.

A murder of crows the very term brought a smile to his face. They weren't crows they were wolves but Thunder's brood often wore the mask of crows. So it filled his head with a twisted sense of amusement as he eyed Lukas from a distance. His elder, and the ranking Ahroun so far as he understood.

The Ahroun kept his grip on his weapon loose but he wasn't about to drop it. He was a full moon and though he was more than happy to do battle without a weapon in hand it would be insulting to ask a full moon to disarm himself especially in a time of war. That bat gave him comfort and reassurance, that bat reminded himself constantly of just what he was and it also informed those around him that the full moon was ever alert and ever ready. Conflict was a part of what he was the very definition of what it meant to be a full moon. Internal/external it did not matter what stage the battle was set upon there was not a moment in a full moon's life where he wasn't at war with something somewhere... And on the, oh so very, rare occasion he wasn't at war he was preparing himself for the moment he would be again.

Eyes moved from face to face. Marni, the one who fed him got a smile herself and a nod of his head. He might have grunted but another face drew his attention away from Marni. Jesmond's was a face he did not recognize. This was something he would have to remedy immediately.

[Wyrmbreaker] "Late shift," Lukas comments. "Next time you might take a bus or go around the Park, though. Counterintuitive as it seems, Grant Park is one of the epicenters of Wyrm activity in this city."

He nods over Jesmond's shoulder at the stranger in the distance, then.

"I think that fellow just vomited into a trashcan."

[Wyrmbreaker] [yikes, sorry for the delay folks! i wandered off]

[Marni] She inhales the first dog, and goes about opening the second when Simon joins. She nods to him as well, and - perhaps oddly, for her - is quiet as Lukas and his kinswoman talk of meeting and activities.

Like the guy vomiting into a trashcan. She makes a face, and a muttered joke. "Dammit, that's where dessert was hiding!"

[Jesmond Krutova] "I'm not frightened by the park, Lukas." She says mildly, and then nods. "But I'll keep that in mind." A beat, a moment as another joins their party. She has some vague recollection of the face, of the features and she makes a brief study of them and offers a corner of her lip upward in greeting, in a suggestion of a smile.

Lukas notes the man vomiting into a trashcan, Jesmond does not turn, but nods. "He does that most nights I walk past." Hesitation, she explains: "Alcoholic, and homeless." There's a well of compassion beneath her words, as composed and succinct as they are. Then, the Kinwoman's eyes flick back to Lukas, settle there, she reads his face as she speaks: "Last I was here, I bumped into Ezra, he asked me a great deal of questions about you, I'm not in a position to say anything against him, really, but it seemed strange."

A beat.

"As if he was fishing."

[Victor Oseragighte] (( There we go. My apologies, locked up and had to re-start. ))

[Wyrmbreaker] "Huh." Jesmond dismisses the man as an alcoholic bum -- which might as well be the truth. Somehow, Lukas doesn't look entirely satisfied, though. After a moment he turns to Simon. "Go check it out, will you?" passes as a hello tonight, and he nods in Victor's direction. "Make sure he's really just a man."

The Ahroun's ice-strewn eyes come back to Jesmond, then. An eyebrow quirks, somewhere between amused and perplexed. "Oh yeah?" He folds his arms across his chest, shoulders rounding. "What sorts of questions?"

[Victor Oseragighte] He still looks a trifle ill as he sits consulting the map. It did not show block numbers, and the address hadn't mentioned a cross street, so he was not quite certain where along it he would have to go. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, fingers working into the short ragged black beard.

[Marni] She's pretty well forgotten by this point, and that suits her just fine. After all, ya tend to learn more about - well, just about anything - if you hang around and listen long enough. She licks some mustard off her fingers, before sliding her hand across the swell of her hip to dry them off.

As most times - her thoughts are her own, though they race a thousand hummingbird wingbeats strong within her.

[Simon] He hears Ezra's name and his smile grew a little. He honestly did not remember Jesmond from the other evening but he did not remember several things. Ezra, however, was a name he knew well enough and he couldn't help but shiver just a bit when he heard it. Still it was funny that he was hearing it so often. He took a note of that name and marked it in the back of his head as he moved to join the others.

"The man wants to kill himself let him do it his own way. The way I look at it there are enough people out there struggling just to put food on the table for their kids, they'll get cancer and die and leave their families with nothing despite working all their life and dreaming of something better. So if some worthless waste of space decides he's going to throw away the gift he doesn't even deserve in the first fucking place... Hell I'd more than happily help him on his way but that might be looked upon as brutal or even barbaric."He laughs to himself. His words spoke of a bitter and unforgiving world. It was the world he lived in, in his world there wasn't much black and white there were barely even shades it was pretty much dark grey to pitch fucking black.

However Lukas gave him an order and he nodded his head."Sure thing..."He says back to the man and without hesitation he begins to head towards Jesmond."He's not kidding... We had to finish off a pack who was attempting to steal a couple of kin the other day. I'd strongly suggest at least walking with a friend whenever possible."He smiles and bows his head before slipping past her."Simon and I'll be right back."He says as he heads into the shadows and decides to approach the vomiting man.

He was cautious, and careful. His senses on alert, after all if Lukas felt there might be something wrong then he wanted to be on alert for the possibility this might actually be something to be concerned about. He got within ten or fifteen feet of the vomiting man before calling out."You know guy the point of the food is to digest it a little before expelling it. Maybe if you cut back on the sauce you might be able to keep a little more of it down?"He was a full moon, not a Half Moon he wasn't here to gaze into the man's soul and figure out all his problems. He was here to make sure this thing was in fact human... And if it was anything other than human he would deal with the problem.

[Jesmond Krutova] Jesmond doesn't hesitate, either her memory is rather good, or she simply recollects based on where she is and whom she's standing before. "Did I see you very often, what of your mate, Danicka, didn't I agree you had a sweet little niche set up here for yourself," she glances at Marni as she licks a substance off her fingers, her gaze returns to Lukas.

"What did I think of being used by ambitious Garou, things like that." She seems rather amused by it, truth be told, though with Jesmond, most of her expression was so mild and well-kept it was hard to discern for sure what she believed about any given thing aside from accepting it as fact. "Perhaps he was just being," here she allows a trickle of some humor learned from another tribe in regards to her own.

"a Son of Thunder, he walked me home afterward so I cannot think him entirely without honor."

[Victor Oseragighte] There was something a bit ethereal about Victor despite his stocky build. The shouted 'advice' pulls him rudely from his musings, and he looks up in a bit of amused surprised. "Ah, yeah, thanks. Not drunk, though. Bad stomach." He rose, leaving his duffel bag on the bench, and walked over holding the map. "Say, do you know which way this place is?" He held up the slip of paper, his thumb purposely over the name of the place so that only the address was revealed.

[Wyrmbreaker] There's a flicker of -- something across Wyrmbreaker's face when the name of his mate comes up. His eyes flicker aside. It passes in a heartbeat, and then the surface is smooth again, cool and controlled.

"Most likely he was being a conniving little shit," Lukas says, blunt as a stone. "Dogging my heels, chipping at the foundations. Good for him, if that's the case. Keeps me sharp.

"On the other hand, there was some business about a Unicorn kin who got mixed up with him a few months ago. Apparently he was abusing her psychologically. She died eventually. He wasn't involved." There's no regard in Lukas's voice toward his tribesman, but there's this at least: he won't falsely imply guilt where there is none. "But it is possible he's looking for something else to wiggle on his hook now.

"I'd watch myself around him," he finishes. "I doubt he'd be so reckless with the kin of his own tribe, but don't give him the opportunity to hurt you."

[Simon] Well maybe he wasn't a drunk? Though Jesmond seemed to know him so that is what he gets for trusting the authority of someone other than himself. He finds himself smiling and when the man holds the paper up he shakes his head."Can't read it from here, you got a name for the place?"The guy was asking directions no reason he couldn't at least offer directions.

His stance was firm, one might even see it as threatening. But then Lukas and Jesmond had both left him with the impression he was at least dealing with some kind of lowlife. So he kept his grip on the bat firm and his eyes were searching more for signs of motion than facial features. There was never a moment in a full moon's life when he wasn't a full moon. Birth to death and then well just a festering corpse. No there was never a moment in a full moon's life when he was anything other than a full moon.

[Marni] She arches a brow slightly as there's a flicker of... something... across Lukas' face at the mention of his mate. It's brief, it passes, but she says nothing to bring it back.

The estimation of Ezra, being a conniving little shit, however, makes her chuckle. Briefly. Oh hey, look! Another hot dog! She digs in quietly. She's slowing down, but still packing away the meal - some day she might last a few minutes without being hungry. Maybe.

[Jesmond Krutova] [Per + Alert: My Kinfolk Perception powers are tingling! What's that look mean?]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 3, 5, 10 (Failure at target 6)

[Jesmond Krutova] ( :[ )

[Marni] [I kin see things! Like waht that look meant!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 6, 7, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6) Re-rolls: 2

[Marni] [pats Marni's curly lil head]

[Jesmond Krutova] [Hey Kahseeno, you suck.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 7, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 7)

[Wyrmbreaker] [holy crap people *LOL*]

[Wyrmbreaker] [i almost feel bad giving you so little for 4 succ, but it's pretty simple really: he's sad! he misses her!]
to Jesmond Krutova, Marni

[the devil] [numbers!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 2, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Victor Oseragighte] He's remarkably calm for somebody asking directions from a tough-looking guy with a baseball bat. In the park. At three am. While he looks a bit grubby, as if he's traveled a long way and recently vomited (which he had), there's not a whiff of alcohol off of him. He debated for only a moment before moving his thumb and approaching more closely. "A place called the Brotherhood of Thieves?" He hadn't actually been told what sort of establishment it was, come to think of it. His stomch gave another rumble which he ignored.

[Simon] [Would I have seen that thing if I had been looking at Wyrmbreakers Face?]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 8 (Success x 1 at target 7)

[Marni] [*LOL*figured. heh.]
to Jesmond Krutova, Wyrmbreaker

[Asha Singh] How it is that a Silver Fang came to be alone in a tree well past midnight in Grant Park on a Friday is anyone's guess. Really: anyone may make a guess. The girl is not likely to offer up the story absent rather extraordinary payment. Lukas can feel her presence - has felt her presence - well before she makes herself known.

Now, though, she makes herself known, dropping down from a rather high branch midway through the health crown of a great oak doubtlessly as old as Buckingham Fountain, still illuminated, the jets shut for the night, elsewhere in the park. She makes a little whumpf as she hits the ground, folding her body into the impact, but remains on her feet, easy and lethal and wholly confident in her physicality.

The girl is a slight thing, all angles, all sharp angles, dressed in a crisp white shirt that contrasts starkly with her rich brown skin. Her hair is black, glossy with health, and the blood of the mad kings expresses itself in every pore of her skin, in every line of her body. She has in one hand a jeweled sword, the gauntlet shaped into the handle of the blade, an elaborate guard that makes a stiff line from handle to blade. And she is wearing sunglasses. Giant ones.

The tip of the blade trails behind her as she walks toward Lukas, scything through the grass without ever hitting the soil.

[Asha Singh] PER PLUS STUFF. I ROLL DICES TOO.
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 4, 4, 4, 4 (Failure at target 6)

[Asha Singh] Asha sees a strange look on Wyrmbreaker's face from a distance. (Not so) perceptive little thing assumes he broke wind. And so, when she walks up to Jesmond and Lukas, she is careful to avoid his backside.

[Asha Singh] I ROLLS AGAIN TOO!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 7)

[Karl Holds the Line] There is a rustle of leaves and undergrowth from a gathering of bushes and small trees not far from where Marni and the others are standing. A moment before Karl walks out of there. He is brushing himself of it seems. Dressed in dark clothes that seem damp, as if he has been splashing himself with water or something. He goes so far as to spit on the ground, making a face before looking up at the gathered crowd. A glance at Asha as she makes a bee-line not far from where he himself had just showed up. But unlike her, the Rotagar had not been there waiting for long.

A nod to Marni and the others, and a curious look to a face he did not recognize. The No moon hangs above like some bloated dark void. And it shows In the slight extra energy to Karl’s steps, the way he seems restless almost. That unnatural grace of his body showing to those who know what to look for. Just hint of a smoothness that any human athlete would be hard to reproduce.

“Quite a crowd.”

Despite having tried to clean off, he has not succeeded entirely. Traces of a dark remain as spots on his clothes, as well as some slight remains of blood showing in the shadow of a beard that darkens his chin. Hard to spot for sure in the dark of night, but there.

[Simon] He tilted his head and eyed the man curiously. When he drew closer he tensed, but the man was also asking about the Brotherhood which happened to be a place he knew quite well."Yeah, I was just there this afternoon. You got business there or something?"He asks curiously polite, politer anyway... Is politer a word? It must be cause the spell checker isn't telling me it's wrong!

It was something else that stood out to him, the man wasn't a man. He wasn't a normal man anyway he was something more and that brought him a tiny hint of relaxation though not too much he was still wary about the intentions of the figure before him.

[Jesmond Krutova] Jesmond nods a little at the Ahroun's words regarding Ezra Turk, and studies his face with eyes that seemed, in the almost none-existent moonlight to hold some facet of empathy at something she gleans from his expression, something read in his eyes in the moment when she spoke Danicka's name.

Jesmond did not need to ask after his mate to understand, she knew loss well enough, stared at it in the mirror daily; beamed back at her by reflection. So, instead: "I've been meaning to ask you for some to come to dinner at my home, you can see where I hang my proverbial hat, and be no doubt mooned over by my younger sister."

There's a little flicker of amusement in Jesmond's voice, more Garou are arriving, her skin feels it, muscles tense in anticipation of them. "It's open-ended, so."

So, she leaves it there.

[Wyrmbreaker] [i'm tempted to write something like LUKAS IS PLOTTING TO DANCE THE SPIRAL, given all the dice rolls coming my way *LOL* BUT NO: HE JUST MISSES HIS MATE IS ALL. capsrage!
to Asha Singh, Simon

[Jesmond Krutova] [Ahem. "For some time" that should read.]

[Simon] (Aww poor lonely thing!)
to Asha Singh, Wyrmbreaker

[Victor Oseragighte] He had started to notice the gathering of people beyond Simon now, and did wonder at it. Quite a crowd indeed, and he wondered if he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He focused on the man before him, though, as he ventured smoothly onward, his words a bit curt, as if he did not talk all that often. "Business, yes. Looking for friends. Told I can meet them there."

[Wyrmbreaker] All at once there are entirely too many eyes scanning his face. Lukas looks down, bowing his head to hide his expression, which flashes toward irritation at any rate. "Enough," he says, low, despite that no one else has said a word about what they may or may not have read on his face.

Moving on, then. He nods at Jesmond's offer, brow clearing noticeably. "You know," he says, "I'd like that. Should I bring a tribesman or two, or just the wine?"

And then: she of the enormous names and enormous sunglasses. Only a Fang would stroll through a park holding a goddamn jeweled sword. Lukas senses her coming, but his eyebrows still hop up when he actually sees her. And he looks at Asha for a moment. Her sword for another. Her again.

"Should I ask?"

[Marni] She arches a brow slightly at that expression and what she sees, and maybe, maybe some part of her feels a bit for the guy. If so, it's a teeny tiny little itty bitty part and she'll do her best to ignore it and stamp it out before it dares grow into an actual, real sense of empathy. At least he HAS a mate. She has a baby daddy he's keeping her from seeing.

Enough, he says, and she hides her smirk by looking over her shoulder at Karl as he arrives, flashing him a lopsided grin, before her attention flickers over to Asha, than back to the Lords in front of her.

[Simon] He nods his head in response to the man. Eyes looking the other man over from head to toe before clucking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Awkward isn't it? That he knew what the man was and who he wanted to meet and yet the man seemed oblivious as to who he was... That implied to him that he was dealing with someone's kin.

"Yeah it's down at the water front. Any taxi in town should be able to get ya there. Or I can drag you over and introduce you to Lukas and he can walk you there since he lives there and all... You're not gonna freak out and start vomiting maggots all over our faces or anything are ya?"Full moon subtlety wasn't the most finely honed of talents.

"As long as you promise no vomiting I'll walk ya over there."He then gestures for the man to lead the way. After all if the stranger was gonna do anything stupid like lunge at one of the other then he wanted to be at the most advantageous position to take the potential threat down.

[Jesmond Krutova] Asha has arrived by the time Lukas replies that he'd like that, and almost without thought the Kinwoman's eyes have fallen on the sword she carries in her hand. For some reason, it lends a spasm of humor to her mouth, when in fact it should spark unease, or even more sensibly - fear.

But then, this was the woman who had plunged a letter opener into the carotid artery of a Formori, quite calmly, and then stood back and let it be shot down by her fellow Kinswoman. Maybe swords didn't cut it, so to speak.

"Perhaps you could bring both, I know Teodora is quite fond of your packmate, Theron."

[Asha Singh] Asha takes an experimental sniff in the air near Lukas. The air smells like the lake, all cool and dark, like moisture, like summer. There's the green growing grass, the turned earth. It rained today, and the ground beneath their feet is damp. Her shoes are damp - her sandles, strappy little heels, no more than a handful of thin twists of golden leather, sink into the damp soil. SSCHLOKC is the sound they make when she pulls them out, kicking up a dainty heel and frowning down at it over her shoulder. What she can see from behind the glasses is entirely unclear.

Should I ask? says Lukas, and "No." says Asha, quite companionably. She glances across his body as Jesmond, gives the kinswoman a quick, full razorblade of a smile, all white teeth and dark mouth. "Hullo Aunty," is the perfectly respectable greeting - were they in India.

"Oh, here." Like an afterthough, Asha switches the blade from hand to hand and digs into her right front pocket. When she pulls her hand back out, her fingers are just a hint sticky. She waits until Lukas holds his hand out, and then deposits a small handful of things into his hand. "Okay, so I'll just go hide." Looking between them. "In case that guy really does start vomiting maggots, I'll have a head start."

Asha seems - pleased at the prospect. She's never seen someone do that. Spiders: yes. Acid: yes. Smoke-monsters: kind of. Maggots: an emphatic no..

[Victor Oseragighte] Normally he would have noticed sooner, but his senses were a bit scrambled from his encounter with a couple of Italian sausages. He blinks when he sees it and chuckles. "Ah. Guess I should have looked right in front of me, huh? No, I'm fine. Just don't have a stomach for certain things any longer." He looked past Simon, black eyes scanning the people there, then back, nodding.

"I'm good with meeting people here and now. Just let me get my bag." He double back to scoop up the blue duffel on he'd left behind on the bench and returned to present himself, ready for what he figured would be introductions.

[Karl Holds the Line] ”So, I came to get you, if you are still up for it?”

Spoken to Marni as he pulls to a stop next to his packmate. Then his gaze goes to Lukas, offering the man a nod, slight, but courteous.
“Wyrmbreaker-Rhya, K&+257;lar&+257;tri-Yuf.”

Greeting both Unbroken, then glancing over where Simon stands with another stranger. A brief glance before he looks to Jesmond, offering the woman a nod. He does not know her, but her breeding is clear enough to his senses.

[Asha Singh] Karl greets them. Asha peers at him. Her features pause in thought.

[Asha Singh] Who just said hi to me? - totemphoned. Must be the glasses. Maybe she really cannot see in them, despite her elaborate pretense to the contrary. He makes my macrons sound like umlauts.
to Jesmond Krutova, Wyrmbreaker

[Wyrmbreaker] "Theron it is," Lukas says, "though Teodora should know that he's likely to be mated soon."

Then the Ahroun is looking down again, this time in puzzlement, as his packmate hands him a small handful of .... something. He peers at it quizzically. It's too dark to make them out. They might be nuts from some tree. They might be old teeth.

"What am I supposed to do with these?" It's a genuine question: he's utterly perplexed. They go into his pocket, though, and he raises his head to nod to Karl. "Holds the Line."

[Wyrmbreaker] What are macrons? What did you just give me? They're sticky. A pause. His name is Karl Holds the Line. He's a Fenrir Ragabash. Marni and Mama's packmate.
to Asha Singh

[Marni] She snorts, amused. "If I'm still up for it. Like you could stop me from coming along this time anyway!"

She crumples up the bag that did hold her dinner, but now holds only the wrappings of it all, and tosses it into the can she got it from. She then snaps a look back to Lukas as he mentions Theron may be mated soon - and simply turns toward her packmate and nods. "Ready when you are."

[Simon] He allows the man time to gather his belongings before walking up behind him. As they draw closer he speaks softly, that voice coming from behind Jesmond."Apparently this drunk you've been walking past every day is... Well..."He grins and shrugs his shoulders.

"Don't worry he promised no more vomit for the rest of the night and what's more he was looking for the brotherhood..."He catches sight of Asha and his eyes narrow. There was no mistaking a fang, even an Indian fang there was no possible way he could cast his eyes upon anything directly related to the tribe of "Kings" and not directly take notice. She stood out like a sore thumb in this group...

A lovely, dark skinned, well dressed, proud, confident and breathtaking thumb... Sad isn't it, that all that beauty came at a price? He greets Asha with his return, a nod of his head a grin flashed towards her before returning his attention to Lukas."I figured I'd bring him back here and introduce him to the family..."

His eyes shift back to Asha. His tongue tapping lightly against one of his canines as his eyes narrow.

[Karl Holds the Line] ”Then lets not wait. I need to find some way of exerting myself right now.”

It seems the Rotagar has not had enough of whatever it Is that now remains on his clothes and beard. With the No moon out, the desire to hunt runs strong in the Fenrir. To press your strength and bring it to the limit.

“Have a good night, all of you.”

With that, he turns and leads Marni away towards the edge of the park, shoulders rolling as he motions with his hands as if trying to describe something, but no words escape his lips.

[Victor Oseragighte] He canted his head slightly. Every day? He'd only arrived two days ago. He swings his duffel bag around so that both hands clasp the handles now and nods to those gathered but does not speak up yet. He is patient, easily able to wait until he is acknowledged, being an outsider. It might be difficult for them to place his ethnicity quite; dark-skinned, round-faced, black of eye and hair with a somewhat well-trimmed beard and mustache. His clothing is pretty common; jeans, hard-toed boots, dark red collared shirt. His accent, Simon would have noticed, is Canadian.

[Asha Singh] "Put them in your pocket?" The slight creature replies, the sunglasses swinging from Wyrmbreaker to Jesmond to You could," she continues, contemplatively, " - make jewelry or something from them. They're all cleansed and everything." Of taint, not blood, if the faint stickiness is any indication.

Then Simon arrives. Simon arrives and brings Victor, and Asha's excitement (MAGGOTS!) is dashed on the rocks of the mundane. And Simon says hullo and flashes a grin at her than she cannot see (well after midnight, our heroine wears giant sunglasses) - or chooses not to see, or something like that. He looks back, eyes narrowing, tongue tapping against his canine. And she turns, swings her dark, gleaming head in his direction, fixes him a look from behind her sunglasses. All hge sees is himself, shining back at himself.

[Asha Singh] â is a marcron., Asha clarifies. The accent issue. She does not further clarify the present. It's a surprise. Clean, though! I did the rite. Pinky-swear!
to Wyrmbreaker

[Wyrmbreaker] "See you, Karl. Thanks for sharing your dinner with me, Marni."

While he's speaking, Lukas is reaching into his pocket again. He pulls out one of the small kernels Asha handed him, puts it in the palm of his large hand, and squints at it.

Yeah. Definitely a tooth.

[Wyrmbreaker] Shouldn't this go to Falcon? Or have you paid in full?
to Asha Singh

[Marni] She nods at her packmate, and then to Lukas and the others. "If you'll excuse me - duty calls.." a beat, and then to Lukas "Anytime." Maybe she even means it.

and, barring anyone else stopping her, she lets Karl lead her away, watching his motions and nodding in counterpoint to their unheard conversation.

[Night ya'll! thanks for the play - gotta work in the morning so bedtime for me. :) ]

[Karl Holds the Line] (And I am off as well! to tired to focus on play, sorry! have fun!)

[Simon] (Later everyone leaving!)

[Victor Oseragighte] (( 'night. ))

[Asha Singh] I'll never pay in full. This is Asha's rather non-plussed reply. Beneath the suprise, it is bone deep conviction.
to Wyrmbreaker

[Asha Singh] So: there's another moment where Asha is still in the loose knot of Garou and kin. And then, with a wave, she turns and walks away, down the path toward the lakeshore.

(Apologies! SOO late for me. I dunno if we are waiting on me, either. Heh! But is my exit here.)

[Jesmond Krutova] (Erm, sorry all. I sorta... wandered off to eat.)

[Wyrmbreaker] There's a silent conversation going on between the packmates. It's in their long silences, and the furrow-browed look Lukas casts Asha.

Then the Shadow Lord -- because that's what he is, and that's what every drop of his blood, every cut of bone on his face, says he is -- turns from the Silver Fang. She's similarly marked: blood and bone, flesh and spirit. Falcon, Falcon, Falcon.

They are packmates, though. Bound under the storm-god, and with a certain indefinable similarity of air. The female turns to go; the male turns to the newcomer.

"So what's this all about, then?" Lukas looks at Simon, as though the other would have an explanation.

[Jesmond Krutova] Jesmond has been, apparently, observing the tos and fros of the conversation silently, considering each new face that was presented to or glanced toward her own; she nodded where it was appropriate and murmured greetings in a soft, friendly voice that invited as much as it retained a sense of discretion, and distance.

"Jesmond," was the name attached to her by her own lips, and after the strange pack-mate of Lukas' departs again, sword in tow, Jesmond's hand strays from her pocket to touch her brow, and tidy away now-come-loose strands of dark hair. "I think," she begins, the fair-skinned Kin, "that I should be going." She exchanges polite smiles with whoever cants one her way, before slipping away from the knot of gathered Werewolves.

"Pleasant evening." She calls back, her voice fading into the night.

[Victor Oseragighte] Still not directly acknowledged, he only nods to Jesmond as she set off. His focus, though, you could be certain was on the man before him, whose position of leadership was readily apparent, if not the specifics of it.

[Simon] He laughs when attention is finally drawn back towards them."I umm... Thought I explained a second ago. This guy here is headed out towards the Brotherhood or looking for it anyway. I decided I would save him the trouble of walking all the way out there by introducing him to folks here and now since everyone appeared to be about anyway..."He glanced over towards Victor."He seems friendly enough anyway."

He then turns to watch as Jesmond shifts and begins to walk away. A look of puzzlement on his face. She had offered a name to Lukas' packmate and yet not so much as a hello to him. Maybe he wasn't working hard enough to get others attention? Maybe he wasn't worth the attention? Who knows maybe he was in fact beneath the kin in this city though if one were to ask Simon he would say otherwise.

He watched Jesmond leave with narrowed eyes, before shifting his attention back to Lukas."I've been meaning to talk to you about the Kin who appear to be running this city..."He says with a smirk showing on his face, it displayed the bitter taste many of the kin had left on his tongue as of late.

[Jesmond Krutova] [actually, she offered her name to anyone who asked! :) ]

[Wyrmbreaker] "Goodnight, Jesmond," Lukas says as his kinswoman departs.

He has eyes as pale as ice, this one whose position of leadership is readily apparent. That's perhaps the first thing anyone notices about Wyrmbreaker. After that: that he's tall, well over six feet. Built strong, heavy bones, heavy musculature. An Ahroun. Plenty of rage.

He turns to the newcomer for the first time, looking him over, nodding once. "I'm Lukas," he says. He does not pronounce it the way it should be pronounced, with aspirated consonants. "Called Wyrmbreaker. Fostern. Alpha of my pack, the Unbroken. Alpha of the Ahrouns, Alpha of the Shadow Lords.

"If you're looking for the Brotherhood," he goes on, "I'm guessing you're either Garou yourself or kin to us."

[Victor Oseragighte] Direct. Straight-forward. He can appreciate that well enough, and he smiles even, just a touch. Victor also notes that that last sentence is more statement than question, but answers it none-the-less. "Garou. Victor Oseragighte, deeded Ken'tarakonha:ka." He waits a half beat after that tongue-twister rolled out before adding, "Swallow, in English. Cliath Philodox of the Wendigo." Just arrived, Bit lost. Very hungry. He did not add those last parts verbally, but it was there in his stance, and the sudden gurgle from his gut.

His breeding isn't heavily noticeable, just a hint of his ancestors to him, but what is far more apparent is some indefinable, almost intangible quality that makes one think of a cool breeze off the lake -- or a chill wind licking at the windows of a skyscraper.

[Wyrmbreaker] [shit -- i somehow missed your post, simon. *catches up*]

[Wyrmbreaker] "Swallow." There's a flicker of a smile, a hint at something that could be genuinely charismatic. As it stands, it's merely genuine: a hint of humor that lies somewhere behind the icy eyes, the strong forearm grip he offers in lieu of a handshake. "Welcome to the protectorate of the Maelstrom. You're the only one of your tribe that I know of, which I suppose makes you the Alpha of your tribe. Congratulations on the job."

He starts walking then, a jerk of his head indicating that both Simon and Victor ought to follow along.

"We're in the middle of a war here. I suppose that's true everywhere, but what I mean is: there's a Hive in the north, and we're taking the battle to them instead of waiting around for them to assault us. You should stop by the Caern and listen to the war herald spirit. It'll tell you everything you need to know. Nutshell, though: every pack's assigned a primary specialty -- assault, skirmish or scouting -- and marching orders come down along pack lines. It's important for you to hook up with one as soon as possible.

"The Sentinels just lost their Alpha and Philodox, so that's one option. They follow Bear. The Moonrunners -- you just missed two of them -- have no Philodox either. They're with Hummingbird. There's the Bogeymen too," an ironic quirk of his mouth, "but I don't know that they necessarily want a Philodox. They follow Fox.

"If none of those fit you, come back and see me. I'll be glad to let you run with my pack for a time, if not permanently."

That's direct, too. All of it: up front, laid out. When he's finished, he turns to Simon -- "What up with the kin, Simon?"

[Victor Oseragighte] Victor accepts the offered clasp, his grip stronger than one might expect to look at him, certainly solid. There is muscle there. The news of the lack of tribemates here does not surprise him, and he shrugs. "If I am on my own, it does not seem my tribe needs an Alpha here yet. If that changes, we will see if I deserve it." It was not a condemnation, merely stated as fact.

He fell in easily, the duffel bag returning to just his left hand, swinging back and forth. He had to guess that the Caern was at this Brotherhood of Thieves, whatever that was. That they were at war was news to him, though. Should be interesting, though. He pricked his ears to absorb what followed.

A neutral expression met talk of Bear and Fox, neither a particularly respected Totem. Still, the Wendigo knew Bear better than most. Hummingbird... he knew nothing of, truly. Totems told him only a little so far of these packs. He would have to investigate further, clearly. When it was clear the Ahroun had finished with him he paused to listen on, waiting yet to ask just where this Caern was.

[Simon] He moves along with the pair of them. His eyes peering into the darkness, keeping watch as the two discuss the matter of moving in. He allows Lukas to handle the matter of getting the other man caught up.

When the attention is drawn towards him he shrugs his shoulders."I was merely under the impression that a certain level of understanding existed between Garou and kin. Which isn't to say they are our slaves or even property that would be an unfair assessment to them. But to expect that we would look after and protect them and in return be expected to kiss their asses and beg for the slightest hint of their attention."He shrugs his shoulders.

He pauses long enough to lick his lips before looking off into the distance."Our kin, their kin, everyones kin are scattered about this city laughing and dancing in the midst of a war... And the only kin so far who has taken into consideration my advice to keep close to someone isn't even of my tribe."

"I do not wish to imply that there is a lack of understanding here, but with our kin scattered to the four winds they are making themselves targets and liabilities in the middle of a war. We can't have that... I am perfectly ready and willing to do what I need when I have to make a decision. But will the Fenrir or Fianna really understand when one or two of their kin lay dead because I chose to take a threat out rather than endanger myself by walking into their trap?"He asks the man curiously.

"Normally I would not attempt to tell another tribe how to treat their kin. Even if I find that the way many of the kin in this city have spoken has left a bad taste in my mouth. But this is war... War is what I know, war is what you know and we both know that if we were in our enemies shoes we would exploit the kin of our enemies as long as they had kin to exploit."

[Simon] (*LOL*And this is really something that Lukas and Simon should probably be discussing when I am less tired and no doubt you are a bit tired too. So you could always say "We'll talk about this another time" or something.)
to Wyrmbreaker

[Wyrmbreaker] "Slow down."

Lukas has been walking at a steady pace, making his way northward toward the Brotherhood. Or more precisely, toward his car, in which he'll drive Victor to the Brotherhood. He slows now, though, turning to frown at his tribesman.

"What I'm hearing is, you're upset that the kin aren't showing you proper deference, and that they aren't all securely warded. Am I understanding you correctly?"

[Simon] He nods his head."I was informed you watched over them and I thought my grievances should be brought before you before I allowed myself to be troubled by the behavior of a few kin."

[Victor Oseragighte] It was now that he interjected softly. "I have kin who come into Chicago at times. Should I warn them away for now?"

[Wyrmbreaker] "I don't ward all kin, Simon. I ward the kin of Thunder. Who exactly offended you, and how?"

A glance to Victor, then, and a shake of his head. "Because of the war we fight here? No. If we put aside our lives for the sake of the war, then the war is already lost. If your kinfolk pass through this city, you should welcome them. And protect them."

[Victor Oseragighte] He nodded to this, but thought he might offer some warnings just in case. The trouble was that some of them were not wholly aware of their status, much as he had not been of his own true nature until it had risen up on its hind legs and bitten him, or rather, others.

[Simon] He shrugs his shoulders."If the kin are not yours to ward then I shall take up matters with the tribal elders of those who offend me. I will not trouble you with that matter any longer... I was led to believe you handled all matters regarding kinfolk."

[Wyrmbreaker] [got an AIM, btw?]
to Victor Oseragighte

[Victor Oseragighte] "No Wendigo," he asked Simon, a tinge of mirth to his tone despite its polite delivery.

[Simon] He smiles then glances towards the other man and then back towards Lukas."If it is all the same to you Rhya I should be going, I am sure we can speak again on these matters soon enough. Right now I am certain our new friend will want to get situated."

[Victor Oseragighte] (( AIM and MSN. "PVA KoL" is AIM, WindCerulean@gmail.com is MSN. ))
to Wyrmbreaker

[Wyrmbreaker] Lukas lets a huff of laughter escape. "Who told you that? I'm not the vverlord of all kin, Simon." Humor fades; he's serious again. "Tell me anyway. For my own edification. Which kin were you talking about?"

[Simon] He shrugs his shoulders."My Alpha explained as much to me..."He says with a nod of his head before tilting his head and looking as Victor."What do you mean?"

He then smiles back to Lukas."Let me think... The Fenrir Kin Moira most unpleasant despite the fact I nearly died in the process of saving her life the other day. Then there was the other fenrir kin... The police detective... Some fianna kin, two in fact though their names are slipping my mind. I've never been keen on being spoken down to by another tribes kin let alone my own."

[Victor Oseragighte] This part he particularly listened to; knowing where trouble spots were was the job of a Philodox after all, and it seemed somebody might be needed to smooth a few problems over.

[Wyrmbreaker] This time it's not a laugh but a snort. "I know those two. The Fenrir seem to think strength is the same thing as defiance and disrespect. Take it to the Fenrir alpha, War-Handed. He's smarter than he looks, and he'll listen to you so long as he believes you're not a weakling. If you need a neutral Philodox," he nods at Victor, "Swallow here might be able to lend a hand.

"As for the Fianna, I'm not sure who leads them now. Until they sort out their own leadership, you might need to just take it before the Philodox elder."

[Simon] He nods."Thank you Rhya I will handle that much on my own and leave the two of you to speak."He says before shifting on his path and heading into the darkness.

[Simon] (thanks guys sorry but I really gotta drop!)

[Victor Oseragighte] (( 'night! Nice playing! ))

[Victor Oseragighte] At the Shadow Lord's nod to him he offered Simon a confirming smile and a small bow, apparently quite willing to offer his services in that field.

[Wyrmbreaker] "Goodnight, Simon."

Lukas's tribesman departs, leaving him with the newcomer. He picks up his pace again, heading for the parking lot.

"As you've probably figured, this is an urban, multitribal Sept. As a result things are pretty progressive here, and there are tensions that you wouldn't find at a traditional one-tribe Sept. Kinfolk," wry now, "and their relationships with the Garou are one of the chief manufacturers of drama here. If your kinfolk do come to this city, I think you'll find out for yourself sooner rather than later.

"I'm taking you to the Brotherhood," he adds. "You can get a room there for as long as you need. I live there permanentlly, myself. Room 2. Drop by anytime. If you need to go to the Caern, the edge of the bawn is just a block east of the Brotherhood. You'll feel it when you get there. Plus the Guardians will come to you. You should prepare some form of chiminage to Maelstrom if you intend to stay in town. He asks that we sacrifice something of value. Don't give your blood. Everyone gives blood, and it doesn't mean much at all when we can regenerate."

[Victor Oseragighte] He nods as he listens once more, following in the Shadow Lord's wake. "I first changed in NYC, so I know a bit about urban Septs. I'm afraid I don't really have much of value at all, though. I've run down my travel funds. All I own of any value is a bone knife, and that's a Fetish. Will Maelstrom accept a service?"

[Wyrmbreaker] "Oh yeah?" The grin is sudden, genuinely pleased. "I grew up in the City. The Bronx. There are a bunch of us New York transplants here in Chicago.

"As for Maelstrom, he'll accept whatever's offered in good faith. I've seen people drive entire cars in. I've seen people dedicate their honor or their glory to him for a month or a season. One of my packmates gave him a USB drive full of pictures from her human life. It really comes down to what you think is important. If it matters to you, it matters to him."

[Victor Oseragighte] "Well, I am not from New York. I am from thge Kahnawake reservation outside of Montreal. My tribe there works high iron in a number of cities. I was in town with my father while he was on a job. That is also why I have kin in town at times. Construction jobs." He considered a moment before nodding. "Is there somewhere high I could go to commune with Maelstrom for a time and decide what to offer?"

[Wyrmbreaker] "The Guardians will let you meditate at Maelstrom's edge as long as you need to. Just don't touch the totem unless you mean to sacrifice yourself."

They're coming to the end of the path, where the pavement spills onto the asphalt of the parking lot. Lukas looks around, finds his car, and heads toward it.

"I'll give you a ride to the Brotherhood. You can drop your things off and catch a nap, or you can go directly to the Caern if you're in a hurry. Since you have the address, you probably already know this: Jenny and Reuben will board and feed any Garou or kin. If you can't pay in cash, you can always pay in trade -- contribute to the defense of the Brotherhood, fix things that are broken, so on and so forth. If you've got some skill with construction, you might be able to help them set up that rooftop garden they've been planning for a while. Even if you can't contribute at all, they'll still gladly put you up, but most of us staying there like to feel that we aren't relying on the charity of our kin."

[Victor Oseragighte] He shook his head slightly. "I met one of your people and she gave me the address, but didn't tell me anything about the place. A Fenrir. I can help out, though. I was training to go into construction before my change. I... could really use something to eat before going to the Caern. Those sausages they said were all beef... weren't. I don't do too well any longer with anything but meat, and I don't think those qualified quite. Thanks, though, for the ride and briefing and all."

[Wyrmbreaker] Lukas laughs. "Jenny's usually got a pot of her specialty beef stew on the stove. You can fill up on that before going to the Caern. Come on."

The Shadow Lord, as it turns out, drives a BMW M3, a few years old. Black. It's almost laughably stereotypical for his tribe -- those that bother to drive at all. Regardless, he turns out to be a careful, though confident driver, going no more than five or ten above speed limit all the way to the Brotherhood.

[Victor Oseragighte] "Straight meat? No veggies," he asked hopefully, as his stomach gave another rumble of protest. He climbs in on the other side; he doesn't look like he probably drives, but he doesn't look uncomfortable, either, as some Garou might. He tucks his backpack under his feet before him and puts the duffel bag in his lap.

[Wyrmbreaker] "Well. You can always pick them out," Lukas replies -- and then they're off.

[that's it for me! thanks for the RP!]

[Victor Oseragigthe] (( I enjoyed. Thanks! ))