pariah, telling on ezra.

[Wyrmbreaker] Summer in full swing. Warmth in the air. Long nights. On the busy streets flanking the Magnificent Mile, bistros and cafes are open late. Customers enjoy the weather, dining out on patios and decks. Conversation and live music drift into the night.

At one of these coffeehouses is Lukas, perhaps better known amongst his own as Wyrmbreaker. He's sitting alone, and his table is a ways away from others. That's not actually the truth. The truth is he sat down, and neighboring tables started to empty.

He has a book in hand. He's leaning back, his legs are stretched out under the table, crossed at the ankle. He looks relaxed, summery, his collared shirt perfectly white, his slacks loose and lightweight. It makes his skin look all the more swarthy, tanned by summer; his hair, pitch black. That he is Shadow Lord is unmistakable. Even without his purity of blood, every line of his face breathes it: from the deep cut of the brow to the straight nose, from the broad, high cheekbones to the mouth that one might variously deem firm, or proud, or harsh.

He turns a page. The book is called, of all things: A Short History of Women.

[Pariah] It is summer. The streets are filled with natives and tourists a like. Inside the coffee house where Lukas has decided to sit and read the tables begin to empty around him. His eyes are on the book and half-way into the second page the room seems louder. It seems warmer, static charged with an electricity not man made. The energy boiled and filled every nook and cranny of the space. Were his blue eyes to lift, though, he'd see that a large crowd hasn't begun pouring into the space. It's just one woman. Alone.

Her hair is long and dark, her face attractive with high and sculpted cheekbones. Like Lukas, her skin is naturally tan and blends nicely with the light apricot of her shirt. One side of the shirt falls off her shoulder loose and exposes a bit more of her skin. Her shorts are jean cut offs and her boots are biker boots - worn and scuffed. Though the woman is only 5'6 her firm legs seem to go on for days.

Her movements are fluid, graceful and athletic. Approaching the counter a lock of dark hair is tucked behind one ear. The woman waiting on customers is left unsteady, her nervous hands trembling.

"Iced tea." She says, her voice rich and deep. A sound that belonged in the bedroom, not ordering iced tea. "Please." She adds, remembering herself.

[Victor Oseragighte] It's nice out. Bright and clear and... well, it was during the day. It's dark now, and Victor finds himself missing the rainstorms, especially after the events of the previous night. He'd showered but could still swear he felt that fomor's acid. It's a pleasant night for others, but there is trouble in his dark eyes, on his mind, and he cannot wholly enjoy it at the moment as he moves down the street.

Victor's wardrobe is simplistic. Hard-toed boots, virtually omnipresent. Brown dungarees. The black tank-top. Victor's wardrobe is also pretty limited, since it consisted largely of what he could carry in a single duffel bag and backpack loaded with everything else he owned as well.

[Wyrmbreaker] This place serves their drinks the old-fashioned way, in ceramic mugs rather than paper cups. The mugs are black on the outside, red on the inside. There's a vague Japanese flair to the furnishings, though perhaps it's best termed cosmopolitan. Fusion.

The windows are open. Even so, when Pariah enters, there's a sudden oppression in the room, like the air itself has thickened. Sitting by one of those open windows, Wyrmbreaker looks up from his book. He notes the newcomer. He recognizes her, not because he's seen her before but because -- well.

He recognizes her.

And he waits while she orders at the counter; waits until she comes out into the seating area, upon which he nudges out the seat across from him with his foot.

"Sit," he invites. A slender bookmark goes between the leaves of his book, and he sets it aside. Closer, one can see the subtitle on the book: A Novel. He does not seem embarrassed to be reading a novel ostensibly on the history of women. And also, though without the air of just having remembered his manners: "Please."

[Pariah] The feeling of Lukas' eyes on her back was almost physical. There's little change to her posture or demeanor despite this. From his positioning, Lukas can see the scarring on her back. The tops of whirls and curves that make up Glyphs. Her head turns first, her eyes lay on the other Ahroun and she turns then. The way that she threads her way through the tables when approaching the seating area is more like gliding than walking. Her movements are like those of a big cat, or rather a big wolf.

He recognizes her. Her jaw tightens, though her path remains unchanged. He tells her to sit, she circles around like a shark in water - predatory and dangerous. The tea is served in a tall glass very similar to a pilsner. It has a slice of lemon, a long iced tea spoon and a few cubes of ice. It is sat on the table first, she then sits into the seat he nudges with his foot.

One leg crosses over the other, the heavy boots on her feet shaking lazily like the tail of a cat: back and forth and forth and back.

"Wyrmbreaker." She says softly, the richness of her voice is pleasant. She recognizes him as well, the description she was given having been spot on.

[Victor Oseragighte] Victor recognizes them both. He almost doesn't notice them at first, glancing in through the windows on an off chance, slowing. There's a moment when he considers passing by, but instead heads to the door and inside. He gives them time to notice him, though, in case this was a private conversation he was walking in on.

[Wyrmbreaker] There's a shift in his expression, faint; he looks a little surprised, and pleased. "That's right. Lukáš is also acceptable."

That's not pronounced the way an American would pronounce it. The vowels are lengthened; the final s softly aspirated, a -sch. In front of the Shadow Lord rests his drink, a doubleshot of espresso with a splash or two of liquor. Beside that, forgotten, a half-eaten sandwich.

Above this tableau, the Shadow Lord's resolute face, which is very nearly stern right now. If he smiled or laughed the way he does with his pack and his mate, she'd barely recognize him, except by his eyes, which are a blazing, crystalline blue, pale and clear, like alcohol set afire.

He studies her as she studies him, if she studies him. If she doesn't: well. He still studies her, this latest acquaintance of his, this latest sister of his tribe. "And your name?"

At the end there, his eyes flick up and right: he looks at Victor as he approaches, nodding to the Wendigo.

[Pariah] There was something extremely inhuman about the way that Pariah moved. The way that she would watch things and people. The way she would tip her head upon hearing something that peaked her curiosity. Her wolf half rode her very near the surface, leaving her a little more primal than most of her brethren.

Lukáš. His name - the pronunciation, the sound of the s accented perfectly - leaves her lids to lazily close over the green of her eyes, she nods. It reminded her of a past she rarely cared to think about. "Lukáš." It is repeated.

When Wyrmbreaker nods to Victor, Pariah finds him quickly. She pins the Wendigo quickly with her gaze and recognition flickers brightly behind her eyes. The female Ahroun looks back to Lukáš then.

"Pariah." Easily and smoothly her weight shifts in the chair. The shapely muscles of her calves flex then relax.

[Wyrmbreaker] "Pariah." It's repeated like a sort of a ritual, a greeting and an acknowledgment at once. Then he nods to Victor, "This is Victor, called 'Swallow'. A Half-Moon. Victor, this is Pariah. A ... " his pale eyes observe, measure, " ... Full-Moon. Am I right?"

[Pariah] She had not given her birth moon or rank or any other information. Lukáš makes assumptions and the female Ahroun at the table nods. Her eyes move back ward Victor.

"I am Shadow Lord, Ahroun is correct." She says to Wymbreaker. "It's nice to meet you Victor." Her voice is even, her eyes and gaze steady.

[Victor Oseragighte] There is something curious about how Victor moves as well; since last they saw him his motions have become even more fluid. He was always pretty efficient in the way he moves, very certain of himself, but this has raised to new heights now, a definite effortless grace having been bestowed upon him recently. He slides into a seat and nods, lips quirking into a small smile at the introduction. "We've met."

He waits, though, for more to be said, patient. He can allow the usual niceties before discussing business.

[Wyrmbreaker] "Have you? Good." Lukas's smile is wry. "Makes it easier for me."

Victor begins to sit, but Lukas pushes back from the table and rises. He finishes his espresso off, sets the small mug down emptied, picks his half a sandwich up and, quite frankly, wolfs that down too. That he wipes his hands and mouth on the napkin before tossing it over the plate seems an engrained nod to courtesy, something that comes almost instinctively to him.

"Let's walk, actually," he says, and picks his book up. "Easier to talk. If you're here for coffee, Victor, I'm sure they'll give you a to-go cup."

[Victor Oseragighte] Having started to sit, he simply rises again at Lukas' behest, shrugging. "Nope. Saw you." Simple explanation. True. Nothing more really needed to be said on that account, then. He nodded to them both and was ready to go, ready to listen, since Lukas seemed to have something on his mind.

"Have something to report, when you're done," he ventured, letting the Shadow Lord know that he hadn't come in just for the sake of camaraderie.

[Pariah] The woman across from Lukáš has a tendency to track people with her eyes without moving her head. It is an unsettling trait to human beings, to Garou it just leaves her seeming more feral than human born. Wyrmbreaker announces they should walk and Pariah watches him wolf down his espresso and sandwich. Slowly she stands too, her iced tea is brought to her mouth and she holds the glass so that she can secure the spoon against the glass. Tipped up she downs over half of the liquid before setting the glass back down. Her tongue wipes clean the glistening traces of tea as Victor speaks.

As they file out of the coffee house Pariah takes up the space near Lukáš' left rear flank area. Outside in the humidity and warmth of a July night Pariah pulls out an elastic band from the front pocket of her cut off jean shorts. Casually, she ties her long heavy hair back in a knot at the nape of her neck.

[Wyrmbreaker] Out on the sidewalk, they don't look so very different from any group of twenty-somethings out on a Friday night. They could be friends out barhopping. They could be coworkers. Hell, they could be a menage a trois in the making, a couple and their willing third party.

They're a little more feral than the usual types stalking these wealthy streets, though. It's some air in the way the woman's eyes move. It's something about the taller man's assurance of motion, his utter physical confidence. It's something about the other man's stillness, even when he moves.

Lukas doesn't set a fast pace, merely a purposeful one. He nods to Victor as he mentions that he has something to report.

It's to Pariah he speaks first, though. "I assume, given you know my name, that you've been here a while and made contact with some of us. Are you planning to stick around?"

[Victor Oseragighte] All business. He can handle that. Lukas isn't speaking to him, so he just listens and walks, thumbs tucked into his pockets. He keeps pace easily enough, looking as if he belongs there no matter where they go. Since Lukas and Pariah are talking, he takes it upon himself to keep watch for trouble.

[Pariah] They walk. People unconsciously avoid the trio as they thread a path along the busy sidewalk. Her boots should be loud and clumsy seeming, but they aren't. She moves as easily and as gracefully as if she were barefoot. She is shorter than Lukáš even in the boots she's wearing, and her eyes lift upward to rest on the back of his head and then his profile as they move forward.

"I am. If you need an extra set of claws and fangs." She adds, tucking a bit of hair behind one air. "I'm working on my chiminage to Maelstrom."

[Wyrmbreaker] "I do," Lukas says simply. Sometimes there's much about him that seems courteous, even elegant; there are those who would say he's spent too much time in the company of his Silver Fang packmates. And then there are moments like these, when something offered freely to him is simply and unequivocally taken.

"The Sept is at war against a Hive in the north," he continues, "and I am its warmaster. Our enemies are powerful and resourceful, their roots sunk deep into their neighboring communities. A few months ago we were heavily on the defensive. Now we've taken the battle to them, but if we slacken for a moment they'll be all over us again. So: yes. I need your claws and fangs, just like I need Victor's lawkeeping amongst our own, just like I need our kin and their sway in the human world.

"I also need you in a pack. Marching orders come down by packs; from me to the Ahrouns of the packs, or the Alpha if there is no Ahroun. So as soon as you find a group you can trust, you should join them. Dark Sky is a warminded pack of Shadow Lords and Striders who might welcome another Ahroun. I'm not sure how Victor's pack feels about Shadow Lords, but they are seeking an Ahroun. And of course, my pack would always welcome another of Thunder."

[Victor Oseragighte] "So am I," he volunteered. He figured it helped to show Pariah she was not alone in that. In fact, quite a few he'd met were working on that.

The mention of him as a lawkeeper brought quite a bit to mind suddenly, and he quieted at it. Much to do, little time to do it, it always seemed.

[Wyrmbreaker] [gah! i forgot *adds*]

"As for Tribal business," Lukas adds, and perhaps it means something that he brings up Sept and auspice and war first, "my rules are pretty simple. Until you're packed, I'm your acting Alpha. If someone bothers you, come to me. If you bother someone, I'll come to you. We have no tribal territories, but we do have kin, and they are ours. If you find yourself becoming involved with one of our kin, I'm the one you'll challenge for mateship. If you find one of our kin being courted by someone not of our tribe, let me know." A beat; then a hard-edged grin. "And tell them to fuck off until they earn the right."

[Pariah] Her reputation, once, preceded her very much in the same way that her Rage does. Once, when she was younger, she might of been in the position that Lukáš currently fills. Once. Pariah does not waste even a fraction of a second considering these things. Lukáš states clearly and plainly what he requires and Pariah nods her dark head.

Law Giver. Green eyes slice through the air toward Victor and she nods. Her gaze is very nearly empty.

"Mating will not be an issue." She states simply without an explanation. "But if anything else arises, I will certainly bring it to your attention." The more she speaks the more apparent the faint hint of a (Québécois French) accent becomes.

[Simon] The problem with life is that some people didn't know how to live. The tedious lifestyle of the average American left little room for actual enjoyment. Simon, however, was not your average American. The full moon was dressed in his usual dark attire, and tonight he wore his sun glasses. The glare of the lights was enough to justify his decision. He stood about six feet in height and his build was sleek, but rigid. In one hand he carried a large bag which, doubtless, carried a bowling ball he also wore a matching bowling glove. His arms are bare save for the inks that decorate either side, his bag doesn't dangle at his side but rather hangs comfortably over his shoulder.

He carried himself with his usual comfortable stride. His rage set him apart from the others on the street, quite literally so, as did his breeding. Each and every line on his face, the darkness of his hair the wicked little smile at the corner of his lips. There was no denying that another of Thunder's brood prowled the streets just ahead of them on the sidewalk.

Smile growing at the sight of Lukas and his companion? Female, not blond so not his mate, hair eyes face, same tribe. Female, same tribe... Hot? Good looking? Hot? Mmm Kin please be kin.

His smile lifted and his eyes cast themselves upon Lukas as he began his approach with the intention of joining those before him. He didn't wanna miss out on a tribal meeting of some sort even if there was a bit of an ulterior motive behind wishing to introduce himself.

[Victor Oseragighte] He catches that look. The hollowness in her eyes. He wonders at it, but there is time enough to discover the truth behind it later. Victor is nothing if not patient in his dealings with others.

His eyes dart ahead then when they register Simon. Interesting. No bat. Bowling ball. Make a pretty decent weapon, actually. He muses on that as they approach him.

[Wyrmbreaker] "Simon." Lukas catches sight of his tribesman and auspicemate; three of Thunder's full-moons now, a veritable pack in their own right. He holds his hand out to the other male, clasping palms briefly but solidly -- not a handshake but an arm-wrestler's grip. "Good to see you, cousin."

His free hand claps on the younger Ahroun's shoulder, and then he lets go and nods to Pariah. "Have you met Pariah?" So far no one's commented on her name. Maybe they're just polite. Maybe they're waiting until it's just them, just Shadow Lords, to ask. "She's a Lord Ahroun too."

That introduction made, he turns to Victor. "Okay," he invites, "let's hear it."

[Pariah] That Lukáš did not comment on the name given to him earned him just a little more respect in her eyes. He did not seem to want to try and embarrass her or belittle her, for that she was grateful. Simon approaches head on with his bowling ball bag and glove. Since Lukáš seems at ease with the younger man so too does Pariah.

Green eyes shift toward the newest Ahroun to join the group, she nods in greeting. When the attention is turned toward Victor's news, she listens carefully.

[Victor Oseragighte] Black eyes draw back to Lukas and his hands slide from his pockets as they walk, as he orders his mind for this little report.

"Spirals that attacked in the park are dead now. Both of them. Still strange activity place we tracked them down. Girl there with clear rage, but not like us. Looking into it." There was no mistaking the Quebecois tint to his own accent, softened though it was by travel and an odd inflection perhaps born of his tribal tongue.

"Trouble last night. Don't know the whole of it. Three cops, one innocent dead. Innocent and one cop out in front, wasn't there. Cops evicted a building full of people. Spotted a van around back, went to check, saw two of us, signaled them. One stayed, assume he was dealing with in front, one came with me. Found two cops waiting for something. Unmarked van. Fomor comes tearing out of the building. Pretty sure they were waiting on it. It's dead. Cops are dead. Had to dump them down a sewer." He pauses a beat to add, "somebody couldn't keep his claws and jaws clean when a gun would have kept the Veil better. Had to work fast. Got badges and wallets off the cops. Checked out the fomor's apartment. Looking deeper into who arranged it all."

"Moonrunners accepted me. Flying with them now. We dealt with the Spirals I mentioned." He didn't much bother with embelishment; he could leave that to the Galliards. Victor was giving just the facts, thank you.

[Simon] He takes the hand and grips back his smile was bright and startlingly friendly."Nice to see you too..."He says back at the man, his eyes flickering to Victor in greeting as well."Victor."He closes his eyes for a moment before smiling just a little and opening them again when a hand clasps his shoulder.

His eyes finally find their way back to Pariah and he grins. The warrior presented his hand out to the woman in the same manner his hand was just extended to Lukas."New meat... I guess this means I am no longer the new guy. Not to imply you are a guy or anything. Simon Zahradnik Bone-Grinder to the nation..."He says with a proud little smile in introduction."You're gonna love Chicago... Just last night I nearly got my chest caved in by a couple... Come to think of it I have no clue what they are... Were... Didn't get their names."

[Wyrmbreaker] "This girl," Lukas says, "you found her where the Spirals were holed up? Was she with them, or a captive?"

And as for the cops, the building, the fomori -- "The Get of Fenris have kin in the P.D. Get in touch with Kora She-Who-Offers-Sorrow, and see if she'll pass the badge numbers on to her kinfolk. Maybe they can help you backtrack through what these cops have been up to in the weeks leading up to their death. If nothing else, they can probably turn some heat off your back. The police tend to take the death of their own very poorly.

"As for tracking down the source, get your Alpha involved. She's a capable Theurge, might be able to do some spiritual digging. Keep me in the loop. If you can't get ahold of me easily, leave word with the war herald spirits and I'll hear about it."

[Victor Oseragighte] "Tending bar. Neutral party. She kept out of the fight."

He nodded them. "I'll talk to her. Karl said the same. We're on it, just wanted it known. The one who made it rough on us was one of yours, though. Ezra. A bit... blood-thirsty. Had to work fast to avoid Veil breach."

[Wyrmbreaker] "Keep an eye on her. Could be a latent fomor. Might even be one of those other shifters." Lukas's tone is skeptical on that regard.

There's a flick of his eyebrow upward, then, as Victor mentions the one that had made things more difficult was a Shadow Lord. And not just any Shadow Lord; Ezra.

"Ezra," Lukas repeats. His tone is hard to read; there's exasperation there, and a certain amount of expectations-met; a touch or two of dark, wry humor, too. "Of course."

[Victor Oseragighte] "Afraid so. Sirens coming, police in front. Two cops, probably corrupt, cowed by delirium. He had a gun. Could have shot them. Had to go in with claws and fangs. Couldn't leave that to be found."

[Wyrmbreaker] "That does sound like a mess," Lukas agrees. "On the other hand, gunfire is slower than tooth and claw. It conceivable that you would have been in a bigger mess if fresh cops caught up to you while you were still fighting the two corrupted ones.

"Of course," he goes on, "I wasn't there. I can't tell you which it is that drove Ezra's actions -- better judgment or vicious bloodlust. The next time I'm in the Battleground realm, I'll make it a point to witness this battle for myself. Then we'll see."

[Simon] Simon gave a little smile and a shrug of his shoulder. The boy didn't like Ezra in the least but that was over personal matters. He smirks a little though."Being Blood thirsty is hardly a reason to tell on one of our kind... If being bloodthirsty was a crime I'd have been thrown out the window years back Victor. Did he do anything that was particularly wrong?"He asks curiously.

[Victor Oseragighte] "You need to temper bloodlust with sense. There's a time for claws and jaws. There's a time for other methods. With a large police presence and more on the way, making a big mess to clean up is not a good move."

[Wyrmbreaker] Wyrmbreaker is silent now on the subject, pacing his Septmates as he listens.

[Simon] He smiles a little."Well I would confront Ezra about the matter of his behavior or bring it to the ranking Philodox or a member of his pack to handle it. Hard to say what was going on in his mind. Lord knows I've had to make split second decisions like that we all have. At least that's my best advice to ya... If he keeps it up unnecessarily find him in a dark alley and introduce his face to a bat..."He shrugs his shoulders.

"We're not men we're beasts and if there is one thing we all universally understand it's violence. We don't always hear words... But we do hear the crunch of our nose breaking."He adds with a smile."Not that I am trying to tell you how to do things when dealing with a Shadow Lord... I mean especially one whose tribal totem is a Cannibal Ice Spirit!"He says with a bit of a grin.

[Victor Oseragighte] He smiles thinly and gestures to Lukas. "Am telling somebody. His tribal elder. I don't know the whole hierarchy around here. But I know Lukas. Figure that should do it. Figure he'll know who to mention it to."

[Wyrmbreaker] "He is bringing his concerns to the right party, Simon," Lukas says quietly. "Ezra has no pack right now, no Alpha. As his tribal elder, I stand as his acting alpha. And I'll handle it."

There's a certain finality in that. He goes on, "I'm going to head back to the Caern. Time for my shift on patrol. I'll see you guys around."

[Simon] He nods and smiles back to Lukas and then turns his head back towards Victor."I think it's about time I got myself back to the crash pad. I'll see ya' round Victor and Lukas!"

[Victor Oseragighte] "I find out more, I'll pass the word," he noted simply, offering the two a nod of farewell before he tucks his thumbs back into his pockets and moves on as well.

[Wyrmbreaker] [thanks for the play, guys!]

[Victor Oseragighte] (( 'night! ))