don't be a freshman.

[Katherine Bellamonte] The Fianna are dancing.

Well, Riverdance and such, Truth's Meridian cannot say she's truly shocked by this turn of events. She glances out at them in passing at one point as if prepared to see them with their arms linked, feet kicking at lightning speeds. There's no such cliche to be seen, and then Danicka approaches; all beauty and bringer of the blood of Thunder's children. Katherine turns her body toward the Shadow Lord Kinfolk, this action may surprise some of the newcomers, the interest and consideration she casts the other blond female.

Almost, Falcon offer forgiveness, she mattered.

Katherine nods, and her eyes follow Danicka a moment before she swings back to face her tribe-mates, all glossy waves of hair and sparkling blue eyes. "My friend has invited us upstairs to recline in comfort, you are all more than welcome to join us there." She gestures toward the staircase, and begins to thread a pathway through the throng of revelers toward it.

[Katherine Bellamonte] [Augh, typo! 'as if she mattered' that should read]

[Christian del Piero] To Cordelia: "Sí...por favor."

Nothing Matthieu says seems out of the ordinary to the Ahroun. Of course, to look at him, the first thing anyone thinks isn't that he's intelligent, or perceptive, or cunning. They think he's hotheaded and bitter. He wasn't hugged enough as a child. He only had one nanny. He didn't make the rugby team in boarding school. He doesn't know what people think when they look at him. When he looks at Matthieu, he keeps his thoughts to himself.

"Thanks," he says when Matthieu finishes speaking.

What the Galliard says to the kinswoman makes him bristle. Cordelia doesn't understand a word of it. She has to glean his intent, though. Muscles in Christian's shoulders and face harden, and his Rage suddenly becomes heavier. It isn't that there is more of it...it's that he suddenly isn't as capable of controlling it. That impulse tamped down, it's hard to think clearly now. He breathes through his nostrils. The air is too hot and sticky and there's a red haze where before there wasn't one.

"She doesn't speak English," he tells Matthieu...practically snarls. He catches himself. Takes a deep breath. A smile is forced onto his lips, and he says, "It was nice meeting everyone. I've got to...go."

He doesn't storm off, exactly, but neither does he wait for proper farewells before he's turning and cutting a path through the crowd.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Well, the Ahroun almost-snarls and stalks off through the crowds, except -- "Christian, a moment." His elder somehow overheard, or was not quite as departed as prior believed. She follows in his wake and stands, waiting for him to turn. Her expression is now devoid of any good humor, if ever the humor were true to begin with.

"There are some things I must say."

[Christian del Piero] Now he's gonna get it. His elder, in every sense of the world, tells him to wait a moment. He doesn't keep moving. He does get a few more steps before running out of steam, but he stops, takes another breath, and turns back around. He grinds his teeth a few times. Normal people are looking at him. He doesn't look comfortable right now.

"I'm listening, -rhya."

[Danicka Musil] Upstairs now, the blonde in the short skirt -- that sways like it wants to flirt, like it wishes it could wink, as she walks -- lowers herself to one of the plush couches of the booth she procured and settles in to work on her second drink. It's not electric blue, but some other brightly flavored and ridiculously strong concoction. She's barely danced. She'll dance more later, perhaps. It's hotter up here but doesn't feel quite as much so, without the crush of bodies below.

Her thoughts move, perhaps bizarrely, to a rite of cleansing she refused to witness. She sips her drink.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Kate never takes a night off.

Not so for Lukas. Lukas takes nights off here and there. It's a good thing. He met his future mate on one such night. That story isn't quite the roses-and-chocolates romance it seems.

Nevertheless: the Shadow Lord is on the second floor, the vast steel-railed balcony overlooking the dance floor. He's leaning against that rail. It hums with every thunderous beat from the wall of subwoofers across from the bar. There's a drink by his elbow. It's not his first. There's absolutely no one near him for six feet in every direction, and he's lazy, leonine, yawning though it's early for him.

Below him, a tide of humanity. A few islands of his own kind. Here, there. His packmate, who looks busy. Their totemlink crackles with shared energy, but he doesn't use it. Some others;

and his mate.


Not too long after Danicka finds herself a booth, someone joins her. This isn't unusual. Lovely young women alone at clubs will instantly get hit on: it's a law of the universe. Perhaps she's readying a choice sendoff of two when he leans back, and the light catches his face, and suddenly the dark shape across from her is her mate, crisp and clean in a silvery shirt, expensive jeans.

He smiles at her. It's a lazy, drunk sort of smile.

"Hi," he says.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Honor's Compass was packed beneath a totem of War. Her Alpha was an Ahroun, and not simply one of the many but the General of them for the war effort against their neighboring enemy in the Hive. She was, therefore, accustomed to the swell of Rage bristling from Christian del Piero's every pore and she was not in the slightest deterred from her task by it.

Or by his reluctance.
She understood the discomfort he felt, even sympathized with it, but her tone brooked that despite this, he would hear her out.

"It is honorable of you to watch over our Kinfolk, it should be the duty of each of us within this city, but remember this: the duty of fighting, or reminding another of her place, or theirs remains mine and mine alone so long as I stand as our leader in this city. Do you understand the point that I am making?"

She waits, and if acknowledged, presses on.

"Good, I also stopped you to say that my home in Lakeview known as the Loft, it is marked Umbrally so you can track it if need be, is something of a safehouse for all Silver Fangs in the city. My maid knows to admit any who come calling in need of a place to sleep, or simply to call upon me. You are welcome there, as is Cordelia, though I shall make a point to tell her myself."

This said, Katherine tilts her head, to the outside world, they might have been a pair of young people flirting beneath the lights. But their Rage made it a difficult fairytale to honestly believe. "Do you have any questions for me in return?"

[Danicka Musil] It's the last night of the weekend, and in summer -- in late July -- every weekend counts. Not everyone has to go back to school come August or September, but the days are already getting shorter. Before anyone is ready for it autumn will turn the air crisp and make every breath feel like a faint gasp of desperation, clinging to warmth before the city is plunged down into winter.

Sunday night, and Double Door is crowded. Hot even after dark, and Double Door is full of people who dance so hard they sweat, as though they can make the harvest fruitful and the winter mild with this clandestine, carnal worship. Lukas has been watching them. The Fianna who move like the music is coming from the very marrow of their bones. The Fangs who stand out everywhere they go, who rule everyone they meet, who leave a wake of madness and victory in every footstep.

And his mate.

She comes up the stairs on the west side of the building, and he's leaning on the railing that's closer to the east stairs. He's closer to the DJ, to the source of the music, the bassline. The booths are in her direction, where it's a little easier for the people who sit down to talk. If they got the booth in order to talk, that is. She didn't see him before she sat down, or before she ordered, but she isn't startled or surprised -- or coming up with a excuse me, that's my girlfriend's seat version of get lost, douchetard -- when Lukas slides into the bench beside her, all lazy smiles and pleased warmth.

Danicka, sipping her drink, turns her head and looks over at him. The look in her eyes and the particular curve of her smile is patient. And fond. "Hi, honey," she says gently, and squeezes his knee.

[Christian del Piero] He's breathing heavy. Standing still, listening, being respectful...these are things that are difficult for him normally. He's young. Depending on how you look at it, he either has room to grow into a mature leader worthy of Falcon's grace, or he is completely hopeless and not to be bothered with. They're at war. They have been at war since before he was born. If he doesn't learn to control his Rage, he's not going to live to see Fostern, let alone the end of the war.

Honor's Compass bothers with him. For now, anyway. She asks if he understands, and he actually thinks before answering. His answer is a slow, simmering nod. His hands try to curl up, but he forces them to remain straight. They are not relaxed. Not at all. After she corrects him, she tells him about the safehouse. He fidgets, but he stays where he is and listens. Katherine is his height. That can't sit well with him.

"I don't...really..."

He blinks, breathes.

"I'll stop by. Um. The Loft. Soon. Can I...can I go?"

Either she dismisses him, or she doesn't. Either way, the conversation comes to an end, and he turns, again. There is less fervor in his steps this time. He isn't calm...but he isn't on the verge of frenzy, either. He glances back to see where the bespectacled kinswoman is, and then he slams out into the night.

((Thanks for the scene, all!))

[Cordelia] She purses her lips and listens. Katherine either dismisses him or she doesn't, but she does watch Christian go. They share a look. It's not a long, lingering sort, but it is an intentional one. One that made promises she may or may not have been able to keep. Cordelia wasn't certain, but she did nod. Once, twice, and she left it aside.

He was gone, for now.

And, soon enough, she gives her goodbyes and her appologies about leaving. If given her leave, she makes her exit.

((Mindy has to be awake in five hours, sorry loves! Thank you for the play!))

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Mm," he says, a low, warm sound that could mean just about anything at all. His pale eyes glimmer: he studies her hand on his knee. Then he tips his head back, throat moving as he swallows the last of his

electric-blue

drink. The glass is set aside. The low table is too far too reach, so he puts it on the seat instead, to be knocked over later when he forgets and leans. Then the Shadow Lord is leaning his head against the back of the seat, slouching down, looking at the world through alcohol-hazed, half-lidded eyes.

"Did you come here with Kate?" He sounds mildly surprised.

[Danicka Musil] It doesn't occur to her to comment on the drink he is drinking tonight, which is the drink he was drinking the first night, which is the drink she was drinking not so long ago. She sips at her own. This one is magenta, as though bartenders figured out people are willing to spend more for things that are brightly colored, regardless of flavor. It's probably true. This thing cost her a tenspot, and it would cost seven at most anywhere else.

Danicka does not clean up after him. She doesn't reach past his lap and pluck his glass up to lean forward and put it on the table. She does glance at it, though, then back to him, taking her hand back to herself and watching him with some kind of vague, warm amusement. She nods.

"I did."

[Teodora Krutova] This is called a cameo.

Observe.

There is a nightclub. The nightclub is the crowded sort of nightclub -- and there is a lot of dancing done in said nightclub. There is also, beelining out of the women's restroom, or the dark and crowded hall leading down to the women's restroom, or the dark and crowded hall leading down to a lower level, a kins(girl)woman named Teodora Krutova. Even from the balcony, when the lighting glances just so, her eyes are very, very blue.

Also, it is worth noting this: bees don't actually tend to fly in straightlines. They sort've dance this way and that, so that someone deathly afraid of bees has a difficult time truly avoiding a bee that is 'beelining' all over the place, and once they see something, they lift off, all entranced, and go in just that a direction.

So, Teodora. She is beelining, out of the restroom (or dark hall), and around the main edge of the dance pit (or floor, or amorphous crowd), and she hasn't yet reached that entranced straight line point of a standard beeline. The teenager (uh, 21er--totally, totally, 21er) looks like she's in fairly high spirits. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes are bright, her dress is probably something her sister has never, ever seen in her closet, and her Dad sure as hell doesn't suspect she owns something called 'clothing' with so little fabric.

(Really, she told the spy-masks, Just so you know, it's not that there's not a lot of dress, it's just that what dress there -is- gives an -impression- of being less than a lot. Okay? So you can pass that on, IF you're shy of passing things on today, being spies and all. Do you hear me in there? And then maybe she'd tapped the mask a couple of times before Ted paged her and she ran downstairs with her purse, gleeful.)

Speaking of Ted, where the hell did his cute friend go?

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Hm." He blinks once, slowly, as though anything more than monosyllabic hums takes time to process. Then he turns his face toward her -- toward the inside of the booth, and its shadows -- leans into her; sets his teeth gently in her shoulder for a moment.

Then he kisses the very spot he has just bitten. It's a strange, unspoken sort of tenderness, quite feral, quite mindlessly so. The Ahroun sits up, large body moving bonelessly, all muscle and warmth and liquidity tonight.

"I have never," he observes, "danced with you."

[Danicka Musil] They don't speak further on the matter of her inviting Katherine out to get some drinks and dance, however odd -- and it is odd, very much so -- that may be. Lukas is drunk, or else he might ask more questions. More probing ones. Danicka quirks a brow as he settles in deeper to the cushions, turning his head into the shadow. She is about to ask him if he's going to lay on her shoulder and sleep when she breathes in, spare and quiet but sudden.

He's heavy, and even in this form his teeth are straight and sharp and strong. A year ago, maybe more, she would have felt suffocated by the way he leans to her, would have felt her heart racing for reasons wholly separate from the fact that she sleeps with this guy. On occasion. And he's heavy and warm now, but it doesn't frighten her. And his teeth are straight and sharp and strong but he doesn't tear her flesh from her bones.

She reaches up, her hand cool from holding her drink, and touches his temple. That's all. He kisses her shoulder and moves away, and her hand falls away, and her eyes are mostly on him but they flick away

just long enough to catch sight of the darting Dora.

danced with you he says, and she hears him, but instead of musing on this or searching her memory for its verity, she nods at the young kinswoman. "Somehow I doubt Jesmond is chaperoning tonight," she says mildly.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Hm?" There it is again. Catch up, Kvasnicka. He follows Danicka's eyes; after some time, spots what she's talking about.

And laughs, "The first time I met you in Chicago, you'd managed to sneak Gabriella into a 21-and-over. So. More power to Shadow Lord miscreants."

He waits until Teodora happens to be looking their way, and then he waves. Big, slow, arm-wave from up on the balcony, a ways back from the railing, in a booth. Questionable if she can even tell who that is from so far away.

[Danicka Musil] "Hear, hear," she says blithely, and takes a long pull from her drink. She waves as well, with a small smile and upward-lifted brows at Teodora. The wave turns into a beckoning gesture.

[Teodora Krutova] And, lo, the cute friend of Ted appears just as Ted also (unfortunately) appears. Ted is a man of dopey grins, sad basset hound eyes and redgold hair. His cute friend is a man of hazel eyes, glasses and brown hair, and also, of great, great height. The Jolly Green Giant would be glad to shake cute friend's hand. So would Teodora.

Sadly, Ted: Ted is the one who appears, and it is when Teodora grabs Ted's arm to say something that will get him to introduce her to cute friend, when she Turns On The Charm and turns to give him a look all sparkle-eyed and beam-y (and maybe a little vacuous, too - it's a nice touch, right?), that she glances in the direction of Lukas and Danicka and there's some GUY waving all big and slow and Teodora pauses and instead of doing the Charming Winsome Eyes Guaranteed To Get Her What She Wants From Hapless Yet Not So Bright Ted she shields her gaze and squints.

Was someone waving at her? Were two people waving at her? And beckoning at her?

Is Teodora self-absorbed enough to think that, yes, yes someone was? Out of all the other dancers and would-be dancers on the dancefloor?

Yeah. She is.

So this is what the Shadow Lord couple up above see: the fifteen year old (shhhh, twenty one year old, guys) in quick conference with some guy with a dopey smile and redgold hair. They'd see her place her hands on his shoulders and turn him around then give him a gentle push in a direction. And once he's in motion, Teodora heads to the stairs, for to beeline toward Danicka and Lukas.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Even drunk, Lukas isn't the type to slather on the public displays of affection. As Teodora beelines over -- which in her case, may well mean a sort of meandering, indirect circuit that takes her from her basset-hound friend past some random Cute Guy on the dance floor, up the stairs and across the upstairs bar and, finally, to the purported Shadow Lord Alpha's booth --

As Teodora beelines over, Lukas sits a little straighter, no longer leaning into his mate or, for that matter, nomming her shoulder. He makes a valiant effort to look alert and, well, sober. It is, however, rather apparent that the Ahroun is -- how do we put this delicately?

Smashed.

"Teodora," he greets her with all the gravity of the truly inebriated, "aren't you out a little late?"

[Danicka Musil] Danicka is not drunk. Danicka takes a very long time to get drunk, for someone so seemingly frail. And it doesn't matter how often she goes to the gym or how much less stress she has in her life sometimes, she's never going to look hearty. She's never going to give off the picture of health. Teodora has that. She has a certain sweetness to her appearance, and part of that is just looking so goddamn healthy and young and vibrant. Danicka, at twenty-six, looks closer to thirty. Or older.

Life is very long, sometimes. Danicka will never be one of those people who wishes there were more hours in a day. The days are long enough.

Danicka glances at the men-boys Teodora has abandoned and tips her head to the side as the girl comes closer. Lukas intones what he does, serious and rumbling, and Danicka rolls her eyes slightly. They were like this at Teodora's house the last time they met the girl, though Lukas did not get this drunk and Danicka had far more clothes on. That skirt wouldn't survive a stiff breeze. Her legs are crossed at the ankle, tucked demurely to one side, rather than at the knee.

"I just wanted to make sure everything's alright, and you're enjoying yourself," Danicka says, to explain why she beckoned to her. She glances at the boys, then Dora, and smiles. "If yes, then I have no intention of tattling next time Jesmond and I see each other at class." Self defense class. Well. Not really. It's not a self-defense seminar for women. It's a flat-out learn-to-hit-someone-til-they-beg-you-to-stop class. "If no, then you could come sit with us and we'll make sure you get home safe later."

[Katherine Bellamonte] Behold, Katherine.

She's been -- where has she been -- no doubt milling about by the bar, securing herself a glass of expense champagne that cost more than most young people made in a single paycheck to uncork but she'd insisted -- and speaking to her newest additions. Now, she arrives not so long after Teodora, Teodora who is canted a brief, sharp little once-over and the questioning rise of an eyebrow.

This from the girl who was barely a year over the age limit, herself.

"I decree," the Silver Fang says as she takes a seat, her top sparkling and her leather pants affixed with a gold buckle that held her initials [really, Kate, really?] "that I have earned this," and sips from the flute.

[Teodora Krutova] "Hi, Lukas, sir," Teodora says, with a half-shy, half-pleased smile. "Danicka," with a smile that shades toward friendly, with less shy. "It's not that late," she adds, and also, "Besides, nothing to do tomorrow but," and here, an artful stretch, "sleep in. Are you guys on a date?" And there, the kingirl, she's pretty shameless. Or just happy. "Aren't you going to dance?"

And then, Danicka, she explains, and Teodora scrunches her nose a little. Teodora smiles again - impulsively, blushingly - at that whole 'no intention of tattling' and shifts her weight from one foot to another. Says, with dignity, "I greatly appreciate the concern, Danicka, but I'm okay. I mean, Ted's not as hot as his friend, but Ted's still a lot of fun. Uh, fun that is safe," this, with a sidelong glance toward Alpha Lukas. "Besides, I am a badass with the taser. Which is in my purse. Hello!"

The Hello! was all for Kate. Whose outfit is totally being oggled.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [MAKE UP YOUR MIND, SPIRITS!]

"Class? I didn't realize your sister was back in college, Teodora. What degree is she pursuing?"

Look at him trying to maintain a respectable facade. Because in truth, it's rare for Lukas to get this drunk in public. No, not in public: out where those of the Nation can see. That said, he's not terribly concerned. He likes the Krutova sisters. He thinks Teodora is harmless.

He hasn't really heard about the staring matches yet.

Katherine appears, sailing into their shadowy Shadow Lord-ness like ... the full moon into the night. Or something like that. Some silly metaphor that Lukas's brain is too pickled to put together right now, which makes him laugh under his breath before stretching his hand up and out toward Katherine.

"Gimme," he says. "First share of the kill and all. I demand."

Pause. He seems to be latching onto portions of conversations entirely at random. "I don't know," he says, and it's anyone's guess what he's replying to until he adds, "why aren't we dancing, Dani&+269;ka?"

[spirits] =P

[Danicka Musil] A nod is given to the Silver Fang when she sits down, acknowledgement though Danicka is still in the process of another conversation. Things have changed. There was a time she would have excused herself and left. There was a time when she would have made sure to give Kate -- dangerous, dangerous Kate -- her full and adoring attention. Now, she focuses on the sister of her friend.

"Martial arts clas," she corrects Lukas gently, when he asks about Jesmond being in college. "Remember? I asked her at the dinner party if she'd like to join me. Learn together." A faint smile to him. If there's meant to be reassurance in it, it's hard to see in her features. Just... an easy warmth, and fondness.

Well, after all. This is Katherine, who is Lukas's packmate and someone Danicka has -- for some reason -- reached out to for the evening. And this is Teodora, who saw Lukas hold Danicka in the crook of his arm on her couch while they listened to Mila sing, who held her in one of the rare displays of what is normally so private between them. It is alright for them to see this, that she is warm to him. That she is affectionate towards him, and fond even when he is ridiculously drunk.

She hasn't heard of the staring matches, either. Wait, what? Staring with who?


He demands champagne. Danicka shakes her head and turns back to Teodora. "Well, good, then," she says, concerning Ted and his more-hot friend, Dora's taser, and so on. And so forth. "No, we didn't come here together, but just before you came over, I think he was working up the nerve to ask." She turns and looks at Lukas past her shoulder. "As for your earlier observation, no. We've never danced. I think the one occasion we came close was that night we raced to the club, do you remember?"

She sure as hell does. She won. "But we got distracted. And in any case: we are not dancing because you haven't asked, hloupé láska."

If Teodora can translate that, she might be surprised. Kate, even, understands instinctively the tone Danicka uses. So tender. So endeared. So utterly not-how-she-has-ever-acted-around-Lukas-in-front-of-Kate-ever.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine's eyes dance as she regards her Alpha down the slope of her aristocratic nose. "You are drunk," she declares, and holds the flute out of his reach. "As your pack-mate I am duty bound to keep what remains of your senses about you." It's fond, this teasing that they engage in, if Lukas makes a swipe for her drink, she does not prevent it.

Clearly, Lukas germs are not those that frighten Katherine Bellamonte.

"Bonjour, petite," this toward Teodora, who the Half Moon knows enough about to know she is protected, even if she was not allowed by human law within the nightclub. Danicka notes they are not dancing for Lukas has not asked her; Katherine tsks at him. "Wretch," she scolds warmly. "Go, dance with your mate."

[Teodora Krutova] "Yeah - stop acting like a freshman, Lukas," Teodora says, happy to join Danicka and Katherine in(gently) teasing the Shadow Lord Ahroun. You'd think she'd be a lot meeker, Teodora. Alas. Alack. She is not. Hopefully he won't be too mad.

"I'm Teodora, by the way," she says, to Kate, after that bonjour, petite. Because it is polite; because she was raised properly. She even offers a hand for a handshake with an air which does not even begin to approach gravity. "Are you family?"

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "I was not working up the nerve," Lukas protests, mock-offended. "I was dropping hints. With masterful subtlety, I might ask."

Katherine informs him that he would not be having her champagne for his own good. It is possible that another packmate saying these words would suddenly find themselves on the receiving end of a level, cool stare; a show of dominance suddenly and utterly shorn of all amusement. Not tonight, though. And not Kate. She gets a laugh, low, slow, and he neither grabs for her champagne nor stares her down.

He gets to his feet, then, spurred on by (gentle.) teasing all around. "All right, all right." Turning to said mate, he holds his hand out, "Would you care to dance, milá&+269;eka?"

[Danicka Musil] "This is Katherine Bellamonte," Danicka says to Teodora, since Lukas is too fucking drunk to introduce his sister, "Lukas's packmate, half-moon, and elder of the Fangs."

Someone was paying attention in social studies class.

"Katherine, this is Teodora Kr&+367;tová." It is unnecessary to say what tribe she belongs to, and she gives the girl's full name though Teodora politely offers her first one. It is perhaps beneath Kate's notice to introduce her as Jesmond's sister, presumptuous that Katherine would even know the woman, or know of her. So simply: her name. No Garou relations mentioned, because Danicka does not remember who they are. She should correct that. She makes a mental note of it, and finishes her magenta drink.

Which is when both the teenager (21ager. right. yes. so sorry.) and the Philodox begin chiding and goading at the Ahroun. Wretch! Freshman! Danicka is smiling with her lips tight together, as though restraining a larger grin, as she sets her glass on the table. "Oh yes," she says mildly, agreeably. "Utterly masterful, darling. I should take lessons."

He gets to his feet. The glass he set on the cushion tips over promptly, unsettled by his movement, and leaves several drops of blue liquid to soak into the plush. Danicka does not pay it any mind, her eyes following Lukas as he swings up to his feet and turns to her. She travels her eyes from his fingertips up his arm to his face. And his eyes.

For a moment that seems longer to a drunk man, she regards him as though telling him something the others can't hear. And then her hand lifts, and floats down lightly onto his palm. "Ano. Chci se," she says, and rises to her feet.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [EMPATHY! +1diff: drunk.]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 6, 8 (Failure at target 7)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [SHADOW LORDS DO NOT FAIL.]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 5, 7, 10 (Success x 1 at target 8)

[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine and Lukas have, perhaps, of all the Unbroken save their ex-Alpha and Katherine's oft-absent elder brother, the longest and strongest of histories. They had gone from enemies to reluctant partners in over-throwing Edward to friends to -- what, now -- the truest perhaps of siblings, bonded by totem and by a kinship forged in battle and tested by time and hardship.

There were few in Chicago that Katherine would call her most trusted. Few she would depend on if her life hung in the balance. There was pack, then there was Sinclair and Lukas above this again in degrees of intimacy and nuances of understanding. There had been her siblings, but that closeness had begun to dim as the years wore on -- the sadness of this tugged at the Half Moon's heart, she could not bear yet to rid her home of their things -- so when Teodora asks if she's family, Katherine smiles, before and after Danicka makes the introduction for her.

She takes her hand, and the Kingirl feels the little zap of the Fostern's Rage, Katherine pats her palm, once, then sets it free. "Oui," she adds with Champagne-flushed sincerity, "I am family in a certain manner, and in another perhaps I am one of a tribe you are often told to mistrust." She winks at Teodora, her pale eyes sparkling. It was difficult, when Katherine was all charisma and smiles, to remain untouched by it.

"But your Elder puts up with me, so perhaps I am not so very bad, hm?"

[Danicka Musil] [Ano. Chci t&+283;.]
to Lukas Wyrmbreaker

[Katherine Bellamonte] [Charisma + Etiquette at Teodora, don't be prejudice little girl, I'm so SHINY and PRETTY.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 7, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Teodora Krutova] Teodora can fill in the Garou relations. Father yadda yadda blahdeeblah of the Sept of nifty name. And she does, too! Because Kate is a Silver Fang, and therefore distrusted. And also, best behavior time. Relatively speaking.

Teodora has her own views on a lot of the things that happen in the Nation: sisters are sold in marriage or become warriors, entitled, quicker to hit than before, angry, fathers occasionally just don't come home, and every time, when the days start to add up, mothers get that look, and fathers have 'co-workers' who mostly stay young, and the young have faces that don't stay, and there is a war, and the war is against monsters, and it is secret and fought in the shadows, and it has something to do with her blood, her blood is a sign that ensures she is part of it.

She has her own views. They're not things she talks about very often with the adults in her life. They mostly wouldn't approve, although she is loyal to her tribe, loves her family. This is all to say that: while Teodora has thought some things over, made up her own mind, in other ways, she's very much a creature of they told me to be this way and so I am.

She doesn't like Silver Fangs. They're not Fenrir level yuck, of course, but she doesn't like them. While Danicka and Lukas go off, go off to dance, Teodora gives them a little waggle-fingered wave, and pays all of her attention to Kate. Who is it is very hard not to be charmed by. (Teodora manages.)

"Oh! Well. I don't know; you could be so bad that he puts up with you just to check your total badness and keep it from getting bad all over everybody else." She smiles, shyly. "But that would be a lot of work." Beat. And, sincerely: "Your shirt is pretty. It makes you sparkle just like one of those big round - uhm. You know, a mirrorball. I like the belt, too. And I'm going to go find the boys again; if you want to come, you can. If not, it was nice to meet you, Katherine!"

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] There's a moment -- which seems long because he is drunk, and because he's a man holding his hand out to a woman who has now the choice of acceptance or rejection -- there's a moment where Danicka is simply regarding Lukas. And Lukas, drunk as he is, lazy and relaxed and enjoying the company of blood-relations and soul-brethren as he is, becomes a little sharper. A little more alert.

The answer, in the end, is yes. Danicka takes his hand, which closes gently around hers. There's a startling gentleness in Lukas sometimes, so rarely glimpsed. And a quiet, in which he's simply looking at his mate: as though the rest of the club, the music, the sound and the fury, had simply fallen away to

absolute clarity.

Then he's turning to smile at Teodora, his hand firming around Danicka's, fingers intertwining. "Don't drink too much," he chides her; one might notice he does not attempt to tell her not to drink at all. And, passing Kate, he simply bumps his packmate gently, shoulder to shoulder, and winks.

Ahroun and mate are winding their way down the staircase, then, and while Lukas's stride isn't in the least bit unsteady, he does walk a little slower. He takes every step with deliberation.

A wall of bass reaches out to swallow them when they hit the ground. The DJ spins something that makes a cheer rise up from the dance floor, makes them put their hands in the air, black silhouettes against the neon green and electric blue strobes. Lukas brings his mate's hand to his mouth, pressing lips warm and firm to her knuckles, and then, smiling, draws her into the crowd.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine is amused by the little Shadow Lord. It goes a long way toward her dainty little twist and laugh when she notes that she might just be so bad that Lukas keeps her nearby so her crazy doesn't, you know, rub off on the rest of the Sept. "Indeed," she says with a tinkling little gasp of laughter, "Perhaps so."

Teodora likes her shirt, Katherine all but glows at the praise, even from such a little thing as Teodora is. "Merci," she says and politely declines the offer to go chase after boys with her. She farewells Teodora with an absent little flick of her wrist, her fingers wiggling in farewell before she takes up a position of comfort, and sips from her flute content, it would appear, to simply watch the dancers below.

If, and when, she departs, she will likely discreetly pass by the couple on the dancefloor to note that she is doing so, before slinking into the night in a blur of sequins, black leather and Rage.

[Katherine Bellamonte] [fhfjhdkd italics! *shakes fist*]

[Danicka Musil] [Eee! Thank you for the RP, folks!]

[Katherine Bellamonte] [Likewise! :D ]