luana.

[Luana Kirchmann] She ate downstairs, filling her starved stomach at a single table meant for two. Time ticked onwards and she watched the sun come down, waiting for the darkness to fall across the city. Garou tended to be more active during the night, and she'd been careful about the phase of the moon when she arrived in the city. Having been here for only a few days now, she's kept a low profile. But now, with a full belly, she wiped her mouth with a napkin and pushed out the chair. A decent tip is left under an empty glass as she leaves the table and heads for the stairwell for the second floor.

Earlier she had talked to some of the staff, asked a few questions, got a few answers, and now she went for the place known as the common room. There's places people can stay here, but she's got herself a hotel room while her apartment is being furnished. Dressed in a knee length skirt and a buttoned blouse, she heads up stairs in a quiet motion of low heels.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] There are certain things expected of Shadow Lords; certain words that are used. Brutal. Uncompromising. Ruthless. Wherever Luana comes from, whatever she might expect from this city and these Shadow Lords, it's entirely possible that she does not entirely look forward to this meeting. It says something about her that she had the presence of mind to enjoy a full dinner, first.

She's been told that the alpha of her tribe lives here, upstairs, in room 2, and has lived here for longer than just about any other Garou has been in this city -- excepting, of course, the Grand Elder and his associates. It says something about the state of the war here and the life expectancy of its warriors that Lukas has only been here for a little under two years, himself.

The common room is quiet. The halls are clear, except perhaps for a resident heading toward the laundry room with his or her wash. The door to Room 2 is ajar, and through the crack Luana can glimpse a rather unassuming room. Bare walls. Standard dorm-room furniture. No opulence, no subtle intimidation of fine furnishings and rich decor.

Just a room, utilitarian and spartan. And that, in turn, says something about Lukas.

[Luana Kirchmann] The common room is empty and there's a silence here that wasn't shared down stairs. When it's full of the Garou that sleep here, there's no doubt a tension that fills these empty halls, making the air thick to breath and the spine to crawl, but now it's quiet. The monsters lurk in the city, in the alleyways, those that had spoken to her the night before and vanished while her head was turned. A brush of her fingers across her lip, touches the corner of her mouth as she scans the room, perhaps gathering herself together, before she's walking across and through the door to the hallway.

Room 2 has the door slightly opened, and she can see bare walls. It's like a dormitory, but she's yet to know whether it's more like a college or a military inspired. There's plenty of thoughts running through the back of her mind, that she pushes back and lifts a hand to knock on the doors frame before taking a small step back.

The woman is slight without breeding, and the scents of dinner from downstairs clings to her more strongly then the subtle perfumes found in her clothes or in her hair. She shifts the purse from her front to her hip, adjusting the small strap on the shoulder, and waits with her heart rate slightly increased.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Privacy is always a bit of a myth when a door is ajar like this. Between the crack in the door and the thinness of the walls, Luana can clearly hear someone inside getting up and coming to the door. By the squeak of the mattress and the impression of weight on the floor, it's a large someone; the footsteps, however, are deceptively light.

A moment later the door swings open. The man that looks out at her is unmistakably the one she's come to see. Shadow Lord is writ in every line of him; the black hair, the fierce eyes. Shadow Lord Ahroun, in his height -- well over six feet -- and the breadth of his shoulders, the heaviness of his knuckles.

He looks at her without recognition, expectantly. It wouldn't be surprising to hear a thick accent coming from him, but there isn't one: just plain american english. His tone is courteous, "Can I help you?"

[Luana Kirchmann] "Yes, sorry to disturb you," this comes in a learned English carefully enunciated around a German born speaker, "I'm Luana Kirchmann. Kinfolk to the Tribe." Her head tilts enough to look up at him, but mostly its just her eyes that look up, which are somewhere between a gray and green, more of the former against the white of her short sleeved blouse.

Shadow Lords are impressive. There's no other way to put it. Impressive and threatening, just by their presence. They are less shining compared to a Silver Fang, far more withdrawn and mostly less boisterous. Their fierceness is something quieter in the skin, compared to that of the Get of Fenris. Lukas is this, in a tall, broad figure that fills his bedroom doorway.

But there's something to say about their Kinfolk, too. This one stands with less nervousness in her now that she's standing before the Lord, then when she had to go and find him. It's easier to be in the moment rather then waiting for it.

"I thought it best I come to introduce myself," she adds the reason why she's knocking at his door specifically.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] The last bit is extraneous, in truth: as soon as Luana explains who she is, Lukas's eyebrows go up. He looks like he understands now. He looks pleased.

"I'm Lukáš," and that word alone proves that he is not, after all, american-born; or at the least, that he learned another language as early as he did English. He puts his hand out to shake. "It's good to meet you. Please." He steps back, then, out of the doorway. "Come in. Have a seat."

There's one chair in here, which he offers to her. For his own part, Lukas does what he always does: he sits on his narrow bed, back slouched against the wall, his body long enough that his feet rest flat on the floor.

"What brings you to Chicago?"

[Luana Kirchmann] Her hand reaches out and curls around his to shake the once, a small grip of a girlie hand. "Good to meet you," she tells him with a small nod and extracts her hand back to herself again. She's still looking at him as he steps back and opens the doorway for her to step through, and only then does she look to the interior of the room as she walks in, absorbing the very lack of details.

"Thank you," this to his offer of the chair, which she takes. Legs cross and the purse from her hip is placed in her lap. She watches him settle onto the bed, noting how long his legs must be to reach that far, comparing it to the width of the bed itself.

"I'm working for a corporation ran by a Glass Walker kinfolk," she answers him easily, focusing again on his face. "As a consultant in a new branch here."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] The room is, in fact, almost bare of personal touches. The bed is neatly made -- though a little rumpled now from being lain on. There are a few books on the nightstand, plus a laptop on the desk. A coffee pot. The closet is closed, the shelves of the dresser closed as well. No dirty laundry strewn about. No pictures on the walls; no posters; nothing that indicates this room belongs to Lukas Wyrmbreaker except, of course, his presence. His scent, which would be clear to any wolf.

He listens as she explains why she's come to Chicago of all places. He nods. "My packmate's a Glass Walker," he replies. "Not really the corporate type, though. Mind if I ask what it is you do?"

The door has been left ajar as they speak. Apparently Lukas doesn't worry much about eavesdroppers. Either that or he's protecting her virtue.

[Luana Kirchmann] Expecting as much, she offers a small smile before answering him. "On paper I'm a qualified computer programmer and investigating consultant, usually for security and protection purposes." Her eyes are serious as she explains parts of what she does, but there's not a bat of an eyelid as she moves from that into the details that's most helpful for the Tribe. "For the Tribe and Nation, I gather intelligence whether that's through technological means or undercover work."

"Mr. Lowe, the Glass Walker kinfolk, is a former CIA agent and has a few consultants on hand for private investigators as well as corporate security. It works as a good cover me, and," a small smile here, "allowed me into the country."

There's a pause as she considers. "Do you need specifics?"

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas shakes his head. "I'm more interested in how your talents might be utilized. The details of how you do what you do matter less than what you do.

"Say I were to give you a name. What information could you uncover?"

[sorry bout the delay! doing some work on the side. also, just fyi -- i have to go afk in about 45 min. i should be back in an hour or so though.]

[Luana Kirchmann] "It depends on who they are and whether they are in the system." That's where she would begin. "I could find out their address, their billing companies, their IP address, any businesses or properties held in their name, their bank statements, to begin with."

"After that, if you required more, I could make myself a valuable friend and find out what you needed from there. It's all highly dependent on who the target is." She answers these things easily enough. Her voice quiet, the accent creeping in when she speaks a little faster.

[Danicka Musil] What the alpha of the tribe is interested in is how Luana might be used, how she might serve the tribe. It's unlikely that when he senses a change in the very air of the second floor that he takes his attention off of her. He has surprisingly good manners, for an Ahroun of Thunder. But it's there, for him at least, long before the sound of footsteps reaches their ears.

It takes no time at all to go from the stairway to the door of Lukas's room, which might as well be an office despite the bed -- with it's comfortable and actually rather expensive linens, nevermind that it's basically a flat dorm mattress on some old metal springs. Danicka hears voices but, unlike the way she might have paused and waited outside a year ago (less), she pushes the door open a little more and walks inside as though she belongs there.

The kinswoman is taller than Luana even flatfooted, and taller still in her heels, but it takes no giant to be taller than Luana. They are both, all the same, dwarfed by the Ahroun in the room in both height and presence. Her eyes are green and her skin is a soft golden tan not yet fading as cooler days lurk on the horizon. She's dressed in form-fitting bootcut jeans over a pair of black pumps, her hair held back from her face by two thin barrettes on either side. Her shirt is a red camisole covered by a gray cropped jacket with short sleeves. There's a silver bracelet on her left arm, and earrings shaped like twists of leaves dangling from her lobes.

She enters -- as stated -- like she belongs here, and isn't wary of interrupting. She looks at Luana with interest, but goes to stand beside the bed, to one side of Wyrmbreaker's knee.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas's lips quirk into a faint, lopsided grin as she says I could make myself a valuable friend. "Old-school information mining," he says, wry.

Then the Ahroun sits up, the inexpensive iron frame of the bed creaking faintly. "As you might already know, this Caern is fairly new, raised within the last few years. There's an older, quite likely more powerful Hive to the north. In recent months we've been striking against them. That means two things for you. One, it's more dangerous. It's not uncommon for kin to be attacked here, and to need to defend themselves. I'd learn some self-defense. I'd also remember that running away is your best bet every time. And two, you'll be valued for more than your ability to breed here. Skills like the ones you talked about just now are valuable to us. To me, as the warleader of the Sept. They will be used.

"You should also make an effort to network with your tribe and other kin. My mate and I will be hosting a get-together for the tribe in the next week or two. You should definitely try to come and meet your family here."

Sometime during the course of this, the mate he speaks of -- she can't possibly be anyone else from the way she walks into his domain like she belongs there; from the way he doesn't even bat an eyelash at what would be outrageous presumption from anyone else -- shows up. When Lukas is finished, and only when he's finished, does he glance up at Danicka briefly. He smiles at her. Then his eyes are back on Luana.

"Speaking of which," he says, "this is Dani&+269;ka Musil, my mate. Dani&+269;ka, this is Luana Kirchmann, a kin of the tribe new to the city. And to the country, I believe."

[Danicka Musil] She smiles, then. "Hi, Luana." No accent there, either. None that would match the faintly wide-eyed, sharp-jawed Slavic cant of her features, nor the breeding that Luana can't sense anyway. Maybe a little bit of a northeastern clip, a speed belonging to people from big cities. "The get-together is going to be Labor Day weekend, at my place. I'll email you about it."

[Luana Kirchmann] His lopsided grin, and moreso the remark, has her mouth quirk a little with the small nod of her head. That's exactly what she meant, and sometimes it's the tried and true methods of getting some things done. Women in particular are almost always underestimated like that.

She listens, watching his face as he explains about the Sept and the cautions involved with living in the city, nodding once to let him know she understood. If she has questions they wait, because Danicka is there and being introduced, before following through with her own. Looking over to the woman, she offered a small smile to her. "Nice to meet you Ms. Musil." Luana doesn't rise out of her chair to greet her though, or offer to shake hands.

But she does open her purse from her lap to slide out some cards, and she does have them, she works in human business just as much. There's one held in her hand, while she clasps the purse again and uncrosses her legs to stand up. Even in small heels she's still a slight thing, proportionate, but petite. Any defenses she has isn't found in muscle tone or strength in those limbs. The card is offered to Lukas. There's a cell phone and a email address with her name on it.

"I look forward to it," she tells Danicka, and steps back once her card is in their possession.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas sits up to take the card, turning it over in his large hands, inspecting it for a moment before he tucks it into his breast pocket.

"Thank you," he says. "Do you have any Garou relatives, Luana?"

[Luana Kirchmann] "A cousin," she tells him, standing back by the chair rather then sitting in it, "back in Europe." Without breeding in her, it must be a distant cousin and nothing from a very strong line either. But with Pure Breed dying out, this really isn't a surprise. There are few pure ones left.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas opens his mouth to reply -- at that moment, his phone rings. A flicker of annoyance flashes over the Ahroun's face. He looks at the screen, though, and then he frowns.

"I'm sorry, I have to take this." He stands, leaving the room, phone to ear.

[sorry folks -- gotta make a conf call! back in an hour or so! play on without me.]

[Danicka Musil] He could have asked them to leave. Could have told Luana and Danicka to excuse him, or even just Luana, since he seems to have no trouble with his mate striding into the room like she --

well, not like she owns the place. Like she understands her place within it, like she is not afraid of breaching his territory, like she knows she has leave to be here whenever she pleases,

-- belongs here. But, mannerly thing that he is, Lukas stands and excuses himself to take the phone call, leaving his own bedroom to the two fairhaired kinswomen of his tribe. Danicka glances after him as he goes, then turns and sits down where he used to be. She doesn't lean against the wall. If she sits on the center of the bed her feet barely touch the floor, so that is where she sits. She has a large red leather purse with her, and sets that down on the mattress beside her.

"Where in Europe?" she asks.

[Luana Kirchmann] Nodding once as Lukas excused himself, she sat in silence in that few heartbeats before Danicka fills it with a question. Looking over to the other woman, she answers. "Last I heard it was France." Considering that Lukas had wanted to say more, and hadn't dismissed her, she reclaims the seat in front of the desk and crosses over her legs again. The purse is fitted into her lap and she rests her forearm against her knee, comfortably leaning forward against it while she's waiting.

"Have you been in Chicago long?"

[Danicka Musil] "Almost two years," she says. It's a simple answer. A lot can happen in two years though. She's not as skinny as she was then, no longer so thin that it bordered on underweight -- at least outside of Manhattan. She's stronger now, in more ways than one. Garou know her name. They don't speak of her often or much but when they do they speak of her mostly in terms of her mate, or more distantly, her mother. They say she's insightful. They say she can be brave.

Sometimes.

"What about you? Where did you come here from?"

[Luana Kirchmann] Luana has never heard of her, until tonight. Lukas' mate, one organizing a Tribal dinner over Labor day weekend, and will email her with the details. She knows that Danicka is an attractive woman for an attractive Shadow Lord, who's leading the Tribe in Chicago, and now, that she's been here almost two years; approximately the same amount of time as the Garou taking the phone call.

Drawing in a breath through her nose, an inward sigh, she exhales it far more softly as pauses before her answer, "London."

"The underground there is awful. Have you ever been?"

[Danicka Musil] "No," she says, and that drawn-out tone of her voice may indeed be wistfulness. "I've never been outside the country. I don't know that I'd go to London, though." There's a small pause. "Did you like it there, other than the underground?"

[Luana Kirchmann] "You should, if you get the opportunity." Which answers the question of whether she liked it there, but since they're filling the time with some ordinary chatter, she elaborates some more. "There is some good fashion there," nodding towards the large red purse that Danicka had set beside her on the bed, "and plenty of places to enjoy if you have the money for it." For the poor London isn't that great. "It's an expensive city."

[Danicka Musil] "So's Manhattan," the Lord says wryly. She doesn't lean on her knees. She doesn't lean back against the wall. She sits with a sort of easy poise, her hands on top of her lap, her legs crossed at the ankle. "I don't think I'll be traveling -- at least not extensively, or overseas -- for some time. If I do it will probably be to Prague. I have some family there."

[Luana Kirchmann] "I have not been to Manhattan." But she notes it for somewhere to possible go and shop, compare it with the other places she's been to. It's more than likely that Luana would be traveling often and if she survives Chicago's bad reputation for often deaths, she would probably move on from this city within a year.

"But I have been to Prague." Pause. "My birthplace is Austria."

Leaning back, pressing into the chair, she glanced from Danicka around the barren room and over towards the window briefly. There isn't much to look at other then the Kinfolk across from her, the two of them sitting in the silence of the room. "What does Chicago have to offer?"

[Night's Reprieve] NR sits on the couch with boots off and a smile on his face. He's resting, he has a room of course and its only a dozen steps away, but here he sits with his feet propped up and a bottle of Vodka dangling from his hand. It's half empty, but the liquid isn't the cause for his smile. In fact the alcohol does nothing for him at all due to his breeding. Something he intends to remedy. He places the bottle in front of him on the table, swings his feet off the couch and focuses on it.

From the living room comes the sound of tapping fingers and a soft hum, soon a rough gravelly voice joins the tapping. It's quiet; shy almost. It still carries his thick Cajun tones.

"It's nine o clock on a Saturday... the regular crowd shuffles in..
There's an old man sitting next to me
Makin love to his tonic and Gin.."

[spirit awakening dif 6(grain rage!)]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Rainer Leonardson] Rainer doesn't hear the song until he gets partway up the stairs. He moves quietly. Not wanting to disturb whoever might be in this strange place...until he realises his cousin is here already. His foot steps pause on the stairs for a second. When they start again it's with renewed purpose. He appears at the top of the stairs dusty and dirty from spending 3 days on a bus. But he's in good spirits it seems. His voice has a similar accent as the Godi's...but it's not rough or gravelly. Or quiet. Or shy.

"He said son can you play me a memory?" he sings. Then something catches his attention. "You brought the vodka out already?"

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas doesn't go far. Out in the hall, he speaks quietly into his phone; mostly in Czech, though now and then in English. No, I know I promised, he says at one point, sounding faintly annoyed. But it's not up to me. And later, with a certain air of capitulation, I'll try. I'll try.

At the end: "Okay." A faint air of grumbling; one of those ever-so-rare hints that Lukas is, in fact, the younger sibling, "Yeah, I love you too."

Then he's hanging up and coming back in -- leaving the door open behind him, the distant sound of someone singing in the living room filtering in after him. "I apologize for the interruption," he says, and retakes his seat. "I just had one more thing to say, and then we may as well go mingle.

"I was asking about your family in case anyone challenges for your hand in mateship. Since you have a Garou cousin, he or she holds the final claim on you. So anyone who wants you as a mate will have to speak to your cousin.

"As long as you reside in this city, however, I will be your guardian." There's a certain briskness to his tone now, a businesslike air that suggests this is not the first time he's given a kin this talk. Or the second. Or the fifth. "That means if you need help, you should come to me. If you get yourself in trouble, come to me before I come to you. Finally, if a Garou of another tribe is interested in you, they need to come to me first. If they don't come to me, you need to.

"Are you clear on everything I've just said to you?"

[Night's Reprieve] The Godi's eyes are fixed on the bottle and he seems pleased with himself. He picks it up, whispers something inaudible to it and kisses it before taking a long swig. It's halfway through this swig that the voice of Rainer meets his ears. He almost spits out his drink in surprise but manages to choke it down and remove the bottle from his lips. He stands up, but he doesn't cross the room to his cousin. He doesn't run and embrace him. In fact he stands there with a scowl on his face, his jaw clenched with bottle held tightly in his right fist at his hip. Finally he speaks.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here Marred Valor."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Since Danicka would have understood and may have overheard! Lukas was probably talking about thanksgiving plans with Anezka. Most likely he'd promised to go for a week, and now he's saying 3 or 4 days instead due to obligations in Chicago. It sounded like Anezka accused him of disappointing the parental units again, which resulted in grumbling from Lukas.
to Danicka Musil

[Jesmond Krutova] Here was what people knew about Jesmond Kr&+367;tová - at least, those of her tribe, at any rate.

She was the daughter of Drahomir Kr&+367;tová, Storm's Vengeance, an Adren Theurge of the Sept of Dusking Glory, in California.
She was lately a widow, her mate, known to the Nation as Eirik Thurstan, Blade That Sings, Red Claw, Eked by Ruin, Fostern Modi of the Sept of the Storm Hammer had been killed in battle a few months previously.

She had a young son with her dead and buried mate called Ari, who her adopted tribe had kept at their remote Sept after Blade That Sings perished.

They had not kept the Shadow Lord Kinswoman.

She had been free to return to her father and those of Thunder. But Jesmond was a resilient woman, she was intelligent, and she was kind; her capacity for care-taking had led her to a career in nursing for this very reason. People tended to trust the green eyes that watched over them, and took their hands to speak to them. There was something very basically honest about her face; her eyes that smiled, and her mouth that followed more often than not.

She was a slender woman of dark coloring that befit her heritage.

She was also, this night, coming to the Brotherhood of Thieves directly from Mercy Hospital in search of late supper.

[Rainer Leonardson] The Forseti chews gum as he crosses his arms over his chest. Lets his bag drop and leans against the door frame. He looks amused. They're the same age but the Godi always did act older. "Oh yeah?" he asks...grin still there. "Why's that?"

[Danicka Musil] "About as much as any other large city," Danicka says, as though they are all somehow the same, as though they don't each have their own spirit, flavor, history... ghosts. She shrugs the question off, perhaps feeling inadequate to answer, having barely traveled anywhere. Not Austria. Not Prague. Not London.

Outside in the common room there's drumming, and singing. Danicka pays it no mind. They're sitting in a room in a building where Garou and Kin intermingle, living together the way Bone Gnawers live together on the street, sometimes even sharing rooms together regardless of gender or tribe. She's been somewhat distracted, half-listening to the quiet conversation outside Lukas's door... or at least the part of it they can hear on his end of the phone.

He comes back. He gives his spiel, and Danicka has heard this over and over and over herself but it has never been directed at her. Not once. The day Lukas took guardianship of her there was another who was tribal alpha in Chicago, and he didn't even tell her. And that was a long time ago.

She looks up at him when he enters, smiles briefly, if a little sadly. It passes, and she scoots over so he can sit down on the bed again in the place he vacated and she took up, and he spiels, and she holds her tongue. She has nothing to add, and it is not her place to anyway.

[Night's Reprieve] He watches Rainer's movements with narrowed eyes.

"You know why, you flea bitten pup."

[Luana Kirchmann] Danicka gives her nothing about Chicago, but Launa nods in acceptance for that, and Lukas makes himself known back into the room, reclaiming his seat on the bed, this time next to his mate. He gets down to business and she watches him with a quietness in her, nodding in appropriate places, and at the end, he asks if she's clear on everything.

"Yes. Perfectly." It's not hard to grasp.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] There was a moment as the Fostern was walking in, looking just a little ruffled by that phone call, looking like he was rapidly subsuming that ruffledness away, when his eyes meet his mate's. Her smile is a little sad. His mouth twists a little in response, a rueful expression that seems like a facial version of a shrug.

Then she's scooting over on his narrow bed with its surprisingly nice bedding, and he's setting back into the place she was keeping warm for him. Lukas was never the type to flaunt his relationship or engage in disgusting public displays of affection. He's not cold either, though. His hand drops briefly to Danicka's knee, or her ankle, depending on how she's sitting, before his attention goes back to Luana.

And he spiels. And she listens, and is clear. He smiles, then, and he nods.

"Good. Do you have any more questions for me?"

[Rainer Leonardson] Rainer winces. Like NR's words sting. They don't. It's an act. "Owch!" he says. Kicks his bag out of the way and steps forward. Walking up the stairs is enough to wind him. He learned how to act nonchalant years ago though. So it's hard to tell. "Come now Nightcap is that any way to greet your cousin?" He comes closer. His nostrils flare. Like he's trying to tell from scent alone if the heavier Garou is drunk. That would be some feat. "Do we have to dwell?"

[Jesmond Krutova] Jesmond's been to the Brotherhood perhaps a handful of times.

She knows the layout, knows and feels the Garou shifting about [perhaps even quite literally] above her on the next floor and she knows if she takes a seat at a table she will be opening herself up to the potential gathering of the True Borns whenever they descend.

She shrugs off her coat and folds it over the back of a chair, deciding on one of the corner tables with a view of the general restaurant area. Her uniform was quite the standard sort, starkly white and pressed linen with a small name tag affixed above her breast that spoke of her name and affiliated place of work.

Unclipping her hair, the lean Thunder Kin tousles a hand through it, shaking it loose until it falls in wavy layers about her shoulders. She makes her study of the menu, absently toying with a ring, twisting it around her finger.

[Night's Reprieve] He watches him approach, the scowl etched deeply into his face. Then slowly, it cracks. His lips curl into a grin and he suddenly laughs, a rich deep hearty sound and he steps forward and embraces his cousin briefly before pushing him back to arms length so he can get a good look at the Forseti.

"It's good to see you brother, what changed? I though you were staying behind at the sept."

[Luana Kirchmann] "Do you have a number where I can reach you? Other then that of the Brotherhoods." He was just talking on the phone so clearly he has one, but it doesn't mean that he was going to share it with her. Given the spiel he just gave her and the emphasis of getting in contact with him, its only a given that she was going to ask for it. If she was in trouble she certainly was going to call, and it's quite the possibility if he's going to use her for the war they're in, that she's going to run into trouble frequently enough.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Got another card?" he responds, and when she hands him one, he takes it and leans across Danicka to get a pen out of his nightstand. Setting the card on his knee, he writes his phone number on it, then hands it back to Luana.

[Luana Kirchmann] She does of course and takes another out of her purse, getting up to hand it to him. While he writes on it, she has another question for him, as she watches the way he uses the pen, following the ink as its scrawled on the back of white card. "Are there any safe houses within the city?"

[Rainer Leonardson] He keeps chewing his gum. Keeps a straight face while NR's cracks. It doesn't last. Not once the Godi laughs. Rainer grins again - this one genuinely pleased. He crosses the room to meet the embrace. Claps the sturdier Garou on the back a few times before he's pushed back. He stinks. Not because his hygiene normally leaves something to be desired...there's only so much you can do when you're traveling. Little about him has changed. There are no new scars. He carries no heart ache in his eyes. "Eh," he shrugs. "It was so boring without you around any more. Besides...who'll keep you out of trouble if you're up here by yourself?"

[Danicka Musil] They haven't the ability, like he and his packmates, to speak to each other mind to mind, thought to thought, in instinctive impulses in the voice of a totem spirit. Yet there's the sense that Danicka and her mate share a moment of silent communication there as effective as such a bond. Maybe it's just because she could understand a little of what was said on his end of that conversation, and could guess who he was talking to even as she conversed with Luana. Maybe it's just because she knows him. Now. Finally.

Mostly.

Danicka's knee is available when Lukas reaches out to touch her, and she leans back so that he can reach over and grab a pen. She's got Luana's card now, taken and tucked away into her purse so she can contact the other woman about the potluck on Saturday. She puts her hand on Lukas's back as he's grabbing his pen, but nothing more. She doesn't rub a circle over his back, or knead it. Just touches him briefly, then takes her hand away.

"I would love to go mingle," she says when there's a quiet moment, stirring, "especially since I think someone out there has vodka, but I really just came by to drop something off." This, to Lukas: "I'll leave it here, and come back tomorrow, okay?"

She smiles, squeezing his knee, and gets up, taking a white rectangular box out of her bag. It's not the sort Lukas has seen her bring kolache in before. Besides. He would have smelled those. She doesn't hand it to him or leave it within reach but rises from the bed, taking it over to the closet and tucking it on the top shelf before closing the doors again. Walking back to the bed -- and granted, all of this is in a three-step radius for her in this room -- she smiles at Luana. "It was good meeting you, Ms. Kirchmann. I'll send you that email soon with all the details about dinner."

Looking down at Lukas: "I'm pretty sure I saw Jesmond's car not far behind mine when I was driving over. I'm going to pop out the back, but you might check and see if she's downstairs. I want to see if she'll make some kind of potatoes for the dinner." Her hand touches his shoulder, stopping there as though it's a waypoint between her side and his face, but she never lays her touch on his cheek. She just smiles, something glinting in her eyes, and gives his shoulder a squeeze. "I'll be back tomorrow night. Goodnight, Lukáš."

With a small wave to Luana, she exits the room, shouldering her bag. When she passes through the common room she glances at the two Fenrir but doesn't interrupt their reunion, heading downstairs to the kitchen and then through the alley door to the parking lot.

[Danicka Musil] [Sorry to cut out, guys. I would really love to keep RPing but I'm suddenly so tired my eyes hurt! Thank you for the RP. :] Night!]

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [night kai!]

[Luana Kirchmann] [night!]

[Night's Reprieve] That grin doesn't fade from the Godi. Rainer seems well, he stinks but it doesn't bother NR. There are no new scars on his cousin, but his cousin might notice the tip of a jagged white scar appearing from the top of his wife beater. A battlescar gained on his first night in Chicago.

"I'm glad you're here." And he releases the Forseti; his bottle swishing and swirling as he pulls his hands back.

"Come, put your things down. I've got a room just over there." And he motions with his head through the wall of the living room. "You must be hungry, lets drop all your stuff off and go down stairs for some food."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "The Brotherhood is probably the closest thing to a safehouse," Lukas says. "There are usually empty bunks here that you can crash on if you need a safe place to stay. Even if there aren't, there's always the couch. If you need help, Garou and kin live here. There's always someone about."

Danicka is rising, then, and getting to her feet. Lukas breaks off, his eyes moving to follow his mate. She's dropping something off. He perks up a little, looking curious; she puts a box in his closet and he smiles a little. Doesn't leap up to go see.

"I'll talk to her," he promises. His hand comes up to cover hers as she squeezes his shoulder; he says something in Czech, and then she's departing and he's looking back to his guest.

"Why do you ask?" he picks up the conversation again. "Expecting trouble?"

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Box contents:

The interior of the box is silk-lined. And it contains a pair of manacles. They're smaller than the ones he broke (then replaced), and made of white leather. The fur lining them is dove-gray, and the chains used to connect them to one another -- or whatever else -- are weighty, but polished to shine. They're actually quite pretty.
to Lukas Wyrmbreaker

[Rainer Leonardson] Rainer does notice. He cants his head. Frowns lightly. Hooks his finger around the wife beater's strap and pulls it back to inspect the scar. That's new. And apparently worth being proud of. It doesn't look like it was done by Gaian claws. The Forseti smiles. Releases the shirt and taps the Godi's scar approvingly. He doubles back to grab his bag. Takes the bottle from NR as they start to the hall. "So what is this..." Swig. Gasp. "...hoo, shit, this is awake, ain't it?...this a hostel for shifters?"

[Luana Kirchmann] When Danicka leaves Launa is standing back over near the chair with the card back in her hand. She tucks it back into her purse as they say their goodbyes, giving them a sense of privacy even if it's really not. Once she's gone, Launa looks back towards Lukas.

"No, but if there is trouble, a safe house is the best place to go rather then bringing it to the doorstep near a Sept, or to another persons home," she explains her thought process to him. Safe houses have been used in plenty of other situations, but apparently not for this Sept at War. "But if there is no where, I will keep that in mind, and this place also."

"As soon as my apartment has been finalized, I'll call to give you the address so you know where to find me." At least when she's sleeping there.

[Jesmond Krutova] Jesmond, who it can be said was an excellent chef was at present quizzing a slightly flustered waiter about the ingredients in the stew. Eavesdropping would garner the impression from her words, and the manner she was gesturing that she wanted to know how fresh one of the vegetables was; and it appeared, was also at once trying to describe it to the boy.

He merely shrugged, and scribbled down what she was after.

The raven-haired female didn't appear to mind, she saluted him with a vaguely bemused smile and leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs and picking up a glass of red wine. Jesmond sipped from it, and studied the relative silence of the restaurant for a moment before retrieving a folded newspaper from her purse and smoothing down the crossword page.

She nibbled the tip of her pencil as she studied clues.

Some people would find such an occupation boring, but given what the Kinswoman spent her day-lit hours doing, sitting by herself enjoying supper was a delicacy she rarely enjoyed.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Our forces are stretched thin between the Hivelands and the protectorate. We don't have the Garou to devote to keeping an eye on safehouses. If you're in trouble, come here or go to Hill House. You'll find help."

A nod, then, as she adds details about her housing situation. "You know how to get ahold of me," he replies, and gets up. "I'm going to go talk to Jesmond about Labor Day. Why don't you come with me and meet her? She's a kinswoman as well."

[Luana Kirchmann] Fixing her purse strap over her shoulder she offers him a small smile, saying nothing more of safe houses or on the Garou and their current predicament, simply takes it in stride. "I would like to, but if you would point me towards a bathroom fist, I shall come after." Providing he does that, she takes her temporary leave to visit the bathroom and freshen up.

[dinner. bbs.]

[Night's Reprieve] He doesn't budge when the Forseti looks at his scar, he only grins and he seems pleased at the approval. They are Fenrir, a scar to a Fenrir is like Louis Vuitton to a Glass walker. The grin fades away when the Homid grabs the bottle off him, taking a swig right there before the Godi can stop him.

"Woa! watch---" Too late.

Rainer coughs and Nightcap grimaces. "Yeah, I should have warned you. There's another bottle under my bed that's weak watery human drink. You should grab that." He smirks, there's challenge in his eyes. Can you handle it brother? Can you really?

"And to answer your question, yeah.. I just moved in a few nights ago.. seems to be a nice place. You should let the caretaker know if you want to bunk in my room. No rent, its a good deal."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Of course, Lukas points Luana on to the shared bathrooms. He himself then continues onward, passing through the commons. There are Garou there. They're Fenrir, and Lukas doesn't recognize them. He looks at them curiously as he passes, raising a hand in greeting.

"Hi," he says on his way down the stairs. "I'm Lukáš. Room 2. -- I'll be right back up."

Then he's downstairs, grabbing an apple out of the fruit basket on his way through the kitchen, looking for Jesmond. She's in the restaurant. She's working on a crossword, eating alone; sometimes, Lukas wonders how the hell a young woman so unadulteratedly beautiful manages to live so quietly. Then he remembers: her dead mate, her young son. That's enough to cool anyone.

"Hey," he greets her, pulling up the chair opposite hers. "Dani&+269;ka took a cue from you, and she's having a potluck this Friday at her place. She wanted me to ask if you'd make those herbed potatoes for dinner."

[Rainer Leonardson] Challenging Rainer never gets you anywhere. Just embarrassed in front of your friends and packmates. He returns the smirk. Only his expression is more playful. Like he's saying "Bring it on!" A Shadow Lord happens by as the Forseti - the one of the 2 of them whose blood is pure...the Godi just -looks- Fenrir - is taking a more powerful quaff of vodka. He returns the raised hand. "Alright," he drawls. Glances over at his cousin. "No rent? Who runs the place...Coggies?"

[Jesmond Krutova] Jesmond had thought her life, while perhaps not regular in the scheme of how other people her age measured their own, was quite on track until early February this year. She had been the mate of a loyal and well respected Warrior, she had been a useful member of her new-found tribe and her greatest pleasure --

she had been a mother.

Then, quite suddenly, there was nothing left by which she judged herself content and, in a typical Jesmond manner she had silently packed up her old memories and set them aside on a shelf to make room for newer, different ones that perhaps, in time, would prove a balm to the ache her son's absence had carved in her.

She feels Lukas, of course, it was both familiar and sharp, the pressure of an Ahroun's entrance to a room and she raises her head, lowering the pencil from her lips and setting it down as he pulls up a chair opposite her. Her food has not yet come, so there is only the single glass of wine and cutlery before the woman.

She smiles in wordless greeting [dare we say pleasure] at the sight of her tribal Alpha and listens for a moment before laughing, a little rasp in her throat. "Opekane brambory," she confirms with a little nod. "Tell her I'd be delighted to, and that I'm glad she decided to go ahead with it."

There's clearly familiarity between the two Kinfolk, though Jesmond was mild mannered enough never to boast of such a friendship, she did not even call Danicka such, but it was suggested anyway, the easy manner she spoke of Lukas' mate.

[Night's Reprieve] He gives Wyrmbreaker a respectful nod of his head. At the mention of coggies he gives a short bark of laughter.

"No.. no.. Fianna's I think." A grin. "Come on, dump your shit and lets head down stairs. That was Wyrmbreaker-rhya by the way, a truly inspiring warrior. We fought together once already."

He leads him to his room, where the bags and things are dumped and then the door is shut before they make their way down the stairs. He makes sure to take the bottle off the Forseti as soon as possible. He's likely to drink himself into a stupor unless he shifts, and we wouldn't want that now would we.

When they emerge downstairs he takes his cousin into the kitchen, shows him the fridge and tells him to help himself to left overs. Then he heads back out to the tables where the Lord and kin gather. He'll wait for his cousin so proper introductions can be made.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Great," Lukas replies. He doesn't know Jesmond as well as Danicka -- not that Danicka knew her well. So perhaps the truth is: he barely knows Jesmond at all. Still, after that dinner party at the Krutovas', there's a greater ease between them. Lukas's smiles come more easily, and they're warmer. He leans back in his seat and slouches a little, as though they were family.

They are family.

"Bringing the brat too?" he adds, teasing gently.

[Jesmond Krutova] She houses her glass of wine between the tips of her fingers, a dangerous maneuver but one often seen by people dining and at their relative ease. Jesmond, to her credit, has never shown fear of Lukas. But then, she has never had the misfortune it should equally be said, to invoke his wrath.

As far as wards in the city went, Jesmond Krutova was every Garou's dream.

Her mild manner was not the be and end all of her however, there was a strength belied in those cat green eyes, in her even stares and gentle expressions. This woman had hosted a dinner for all the Shadow Lords within Chicago from her tiny apartment, this woman had stabbed a Fomori in the neck with a letter opener to distract it.

This woman had lived among the Fenrir.
This woman who seemed outwardly quite fragile, all fair skin and soft words.

When he asks after Teodora, Jesmond's eyebrows rise as if to say are you seriously suggesting I leave her unattended?, aloud she notes in an equally warm voice; smokey and rich as the wine she's drinking. "I would not subject dear Danicka, and yourself, to my sister's capricious charms were I not worried about what acts of teenage rebellion she would enact while I was out."

A beat, she looks over Lukas' shoulder to the approaching Fenrir.

"We have company."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas laughs aloud at that. Aloud, but quietly. Most things about Lukas are quiet; for the truly inspiring warrior the Fenrir terms him, and the Alpha thrice-over that he is, he's actually...

humble. If one could use that word for a Shadow Lord.

"She's not so bad," he says of Teodora. Then again, he's never seen Teodora staring a Garou down. Jesmond nods at company. Lukas turns, relaxed, glancing over his shoulder. "Oh, they were upstairs."

The Brotherhood is closed for the night by now; no more humans in the dining room. Lukas likes it like this: most of the tables cleared, chairs legs-up on top. It's too hot for a fire in the fireplace, but the faint scents of rich, vaguely mediterranean dinners still linger in the air. Lights are turned down low. Everything's quiet and familiar.

"Hey," he greets Reprieve and his friend as they join the Shadow Lords. "This is my kinswoman, Jesmond. Jesmond, this is Night's Reprieve. We fought together ... last night? Night before?"

[Rainer Leonardson] He's quite a buzz going already. The bottle is given up without protest. Rainer tosses his bag like a discus. It lands close enough to the bed that he's satisfied. He sniffs his shirt. Grimaces. Decides to just leave it on. Anyone who gets close enough to him to smell him deserves what they get. So he follows NR downstairs without changing. Sets upon the left overs like a half starved animal. He makes sure he's presentable. Follows his cousin out into the dining room. The two Garou are about the same height...but where the Godi is strong the Forseti is lanky. His cheeks are flushed from drink but he is not acting obnoxious. Yet. He looks impressed at the introduction his cousin gets.

[Night's Reprieve] He dips his head to Jesmond. It is the way of one of his breed, respect them or become someone's hide. His eyes flick to Wyrmbreaker.

"Night before Wyrmbreaker-rhya." He grins. "I look forward to future battles. A pleasure to meet you Jesmond, this here is my cousin, he just got into town." And he nudges the tall lanky Forseti in the ribs playfully with his elbow. "Say hello cousin."

[Jesmond Krutova] Then again, Lukas did not know Jesmond's sister had stolen their Aunt's car to go joy-riding in. He did not know she had stared down not one, but two Garou in her time in the city. Jesmond was rather glad, to be honest, that there were quite many of her sibling's transgressions she had neglected (out of sisterly affection and bribery) to report to either her father, or their elder in the city.

She's still smiling when the two Fenrir approach, and it does not dim as she is introduced to either of them. She invites them to sit with a flick of her wrist, and scoots her chair out a little as the waiter returns with a bowl of the daily stew and a basket of sliced bread. Jesmond pauses to thank him, and it draws a slight flush from the boy.

He gulps, and darts away.
It could be the result of the dark-haired female's attention, or the sudden flux of Rage.

"Hello, Night's Reprieve, hello Night's Reprieve's Cousin who has just gotten into town." Jesmond's eyes are full of a bright, teasing light. They are impossibly green tonight, perhaps in lieu of her mood. "Please, won't you sit down and join us."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Yeah, pull up some chairs." Lukas nudges one out with his foot in invitation. "Both of you are Fenrir, then?"

[i'm futzing around with my computer -- don't wait for me to post!]

[Rainer Leonardson] "Hello, cousin!" he echos.

Chairs are pointed to and kicked out. Before he sits the nameless blond grabs one. Or steadies himself on it depending on your perspective. Jesmond is given particular attention as she greets them. He smiles at her. Probably pleased that she isn't as scared as the waiter is.

"Where are my manners?" he asks. Bows slightly. "Rainer Leonardson. Very nice to meet you Wyrmbreaker's kinswoman Jesmond." He sits. Turns to Lukas. "That we are." He holds his hand out. If Lukas takes it he grasps his forearm instead of his hand. His grip isn't very strong. "Marred Valor, -rhya. Cliath Forseti. Just came up from the Sept of the Storm's Eye."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Just Lukáš," the Shadow Lord replies, sitting up to reach across the table and clasp forearms with the Forseti. Smiling, "Our tribes have this much in common: we care more about actions than pretty words."

He sits back again, then. "Your cousin told me he was sticking around so long as there was Wyrm to fight. Same case with you, I suppose? You guys going to pack up together?"

[Jesmond Krutova] There's a tiny flux of the Kinwoman's brows as the two newcome Garou are revealed to be Fenrir. She picks up her wine and takes what a perceptive individual might deep to be a steadying sip. Her cheeks are adopting the light blush of one who has been indulging in alcohol.

But she is in no way drunk.

Rainer bows before he sits, and she is clearly amused, a corner of her lip tips upward. "Jesmond will do just fine," she gently encourages.

[BRB, dinner!]

[Night's Reprieve] After the invitation to sit down he holds up his finger to indicate a moment and steps away from them back into the kitchen. He returns after Rainer's introduction and he carries four glasses and he clinks them down noisily onto the table after taking one of the offered seats. The bottle of awakened vodka splashes across all of the glasses before being placed beside them. He slides three of the glasses out into the middle of the table despite Jesmond having wine, reserving one for himself. Either they want it or they don't. More for him if not.

"Careful, it has quite a kick."

He raises one of the glasses and tips it to them in salute before taking a sip. "Yeah cousin, are you going to stick around or what? I could use an Omega." He smirks challengingly at the Forseti.

[Rainer Leonardson] "Well, that's good. I ain't much of an orator." Says the cousin whose gums flap the most. There's more vodka. Rainer takes his glass with a flourish. Returns the salute. Drinks. He makes a "Gah" sound and bares his teeth. It's good natured though. If he was really concerned about how strong this stuff is he'd drink juice. Like any Philodox worth his honour he actualyl thinks about the question before he speaks. "You know Lukáš..." he says. "I don't reckon we've discussed that yet." He quirks an eyebrow at his cousin. Taking the piss. "That's real funny Nightcap...I was thinking the same thing on my way up here. How ever will we settle this?"

[Night's Reprieve] The Godi pushes back his chair and stands abruptly, there's fire in his eyes and a grin-turned-snarl in his lips when he speaks. "There is only one way brother. The Fenrir way." He pauses a moment and he's more smiling when he speaks next. "Though I don't think the owners of this fine establishment would be too pleased to find their tables broken when you inevitably fall over one of them."

[Luana Kirchmann] The other Kinfolk comes down to the quiet first floor of the Brotherhood. When she had left it earlier she had been one of the last few to be served in the opened kitchen, and now the place is much more quieter then it had been when she left. The floors have been cleaned and the stools are up on their seats, stiff legs in the air, and just this small thing makes the restaurant appear much different to when it had while she was eating and watching out the window an hour before.

She hears them before she sees them, and catches snippets of conversations as she approaches the gathered. Having expected only the one named Jesmond, she's a little surprised to see that there's two others there. Their voices are familiar though, those same that had been in another room while she'd been speaking with Tribe earlier in room two.

[Jesmond Krutova] [Back! Sorry about that, had to go eat dinner!]

[Rainer Leonardson] (( LOL that's where I'm headed in about 2 minutes! ))

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas doesn't hesitate to pick up the vodka poured by the Godi. It has quite a kick, Night's Reprieve warns. Lukas laughs.

"Yeah, well, I'm Eastern European," he says, and tosses it down. He doesn't quite grimace -- after a boast like that, his honor's on the line -- but his eyes narrow for a moment. He breathes out carefully through his mouth. "Whew."

Then the Fenrir are squabbling goodnaturedly over ascendancy. Except, being Fenrir, there was every possibility this will turn into a brawl. Lukas raises his eyebrows at Jesmond is mock horror. "Better be careful, Jesmond," he says. "They might be going at each other's throats any moment now."

He crunches into his apple, then, and sits back. "That said," he adds, "if you guys really want to settle this the old-fashioned way, plenty of people have used the penumbral rooftop for a brawl."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [you oceanics and your dinners! *LOL* and stop waiting on me!! i'm still dicking around w/ my computer!]

[Rainer Leonardson] Rainer lounges a few moments after NR gets up. Sucks on his teeth. Pops his neck. He looks at the tiny woman when she returns from upstairs. His Rage is - compared to Lukas' - low and well under control. It's still like being watched by an animal. Someone who knows and accepts he's not human. He looks back to the Godi and grins a smartass grin. "You mean when I inevitably throw you into one of them?"

Then...mention of the rooftop. The Forseti looks delighted. And nearly trips over his chair in his haste to get up there. He pauses long enough to push it in. Not long enough for farewells.

(( Thanks for the play, all! I'll be back in a bit! ))

[Night's Reprieve] "Point the way Lukas." And he's all smiles.

[Jesmond Krutova] The Fenrir are playful, and Jesmond is rather powerfully reminded of her former tribe, enough so that her captivating eyes lower, her lashes kissing her cheekbones for a moment as she studies her meal and carefully, thoughtfully tears a piece of bread apart to dip into her stew.

She ladles a spoonful atop it and eats it, watching the Cousins as she chews. She smiles as she swallows, lifting her fingers to her lips to brush aside crumbs as Lukas cautions her about the Fenrir and violence. The horror, the absolute horror. She breathes out a laugh and tilts her head at the pair.

"My knowledge of your tribe had me believing you to be such pacifists, too. My dismay is boundless." She makes no mention of her son, of her affiliation to his brethren. There is no need; it is her former life, the shadow self she is no more. Instead, Jesmond's attention is captured by the woman stepping down from the stairs.

She leans toward Lukas, sets her hand on his arm to catch his attention. "Who is that?" She asks, casting the unknown woman a curious, if welcoming smile.

[Luana Kirchmann] Rainers rage isn't as hot, or cold, as that of the Ahroun sitting at the table. She'd been able to talk to Lukas just fine earlier, and while Rainer looks at her like he does, she glances up to his young features with clear coloured eyes. Her mouth hides her small smile in the corners, a quiet thing that hadn't decided whether it was going to show fully or not, before it disappears anyway.

"A pity it's not done somewhere others can watch," she says to them in general, as the two Get of Fenris start off to go somewhere other then where they are now. Others, of course, means her, since other Garou can go Umbral just fine.

Luana's in a pair of small, summer style heels, and a skirt that modestly reaches just above her knees. The blouse she wears is white, short sleeved, and buttoned to a small frill instead of a collar. Her hair, a dirty blonde, lighter at the tips and darker at the roots has recently been pushed back, the longer fringe of it arranged off to the side.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas laughs again, easily, taking another bite of his apple. "Right up those stairs, three flights," he says, jerking his thumb kitchenward. "Though since you've got a female audience now, maybe you better do it realmside." His grin turns a little crooked. "Give you a bit more incentive to do well. Just stand back from the edges of the roof so you can't be seen from the street."

Then, turning, he lifts a hand in a wave as Luana joins them. "Jesmond, this is Luana Kirchmann. She's a kin of Thunder, new to the city. Luana, this is Jesmond Krutova, once honorably mated to Eked-by-Ruin of the Fenrir. She's back with us now."

He doesn't elaborate; likely doesn't have to. There are only so many reasons that an honorably mated kinswoman would end up no longer mated.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [gah! *tacks on*]

"And this," he nods to the Fenrir still at the table, "is Night's Reprieve, Crescent Moon of the Fenrir."

[Night's Reprieve] His eyebrow quirks at Luana when she mentions a desire to watch the spectacle and his grin only further broadens at Lukas' recommendation for realm-side combat. An audience, lovely. But the comment about Jesmond's previous mate catches him slightly off guard and he dips his eyes in respect then turns back to Luana.

"Pleasure to meet you Luana, if you three will excuse me though I mustn't let my wayward cousin get too long to strategize, he can be crafty when he wants to be. Perhaps I'll see you on the roof. Feel free to help yourself." He indicates the vodka.

"Jesmond."
"Lukas."

And then he heads into the kitchen towards the stairs with a spring in his step.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "See you later, Reprieve." So far the other has not given a human name to him. There's a reason for that: Night's Reprieve is not human. Not remotely. Never was.

After he departs, Lukas gulps down the last of the awakened vodka, then rises. "I think I'm going to be off myself," he says. "I'll see you both on Friday, though?"

[Luana Kirchmann] Passing by the Garou males, she offers a smile to Jesmond, coming nearest her at the table to offer out a hand. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Krutova." She notes the details of who her mate was, not that she knows anything about him or his deeds, but doesn't say anything on them. After they shake hands (or don't), she turns back around to look at Night's Reprieve when he's introduced.

Before she gets to say anything, he's already talking, and he has manners, which is surprising. She smiled at him and nodded, having full intentions of heading up to the roof top to watch two Garou fight one another.

"I hope you both don't mind," she says, turning back to the two of her Tribe sitting at the table, "but it's not every day I get to see two Get of Fenris fight one another." Her focus shifts from Lukas to Jesmond, flicking across the table at their opposite locations, landing on Lukas as he rises up. "I look forward to it."

Networking. She's not wasting anytime.

"I best get up there, before it's over," she says to Jesmond, "I'm sure we'll talk more at dinner." Taking a step back from the table she gives a general nod towards them, "Goodnight." Then she's moving to follow up the staircase.

[Jesmond Krutova] Where Luana is fair, Jesmond is her contrast with dark, near-black hair that fell in layered waves around her slim shoulders. Her features possessed the angular planes of her father, the unusually vivid green eyes were a legacy passed down from her mother's bloodline. She was a striking woman, the young widow but all the more so for her seeming pleasure at greeting every new arrival that came to her little corner table.

There was very little masked, or hidden away in her smile; it was full of warmth, and she cast it at the newly revealed Kinswoman of Thunder, reeling her in with an extended hand to shake befor she reclaimed her chair. "Pleasure, Luana. It seems it's the night for meeting new faces."

Then: Her mate is mentioned, and Jesmond lifts her gaze to meet the slightly taken aback Fenrir's, she studies his expression as he excuses himself after his Cousin, and looks up again as Lukas downs another shot of awakened vodka and rises to depart himself. Jesmond nods, and dips her spoon into her supper again.

"Yes, I look forward to it, Lukas." She smiles at Luana. "Have you eaten? Pardon that I do, but I haven't since lunch and I'm ravenous." She wants to watch the Fenrir battle it out, Jesmond cants her a grin, and reclaims her crossword, sliding it toward herself. "Enjoy, I'll pass, I've seen one too many already."

And with that, they disperse, and she is left to her meal.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Great." Lukas's smile is genuinely pleased. He had a good time last time the tribe gathered at Jesmond's, and there's a part of Lukas that deeply enjoys the company of his own blood. "Goodnight, kinswomen," he adds, and -- polite thing that he is -- pushes in his chair before departing.

Not back up the stairs after all. Out the front door.