winter's dirge.

[Margaret] It's hot. She doesn't like this, it's hot and it's going to get hotter and it smells and there are people. touching her. The Child of Gaia is standing in line for what she assumes is going to eventually end in her acquiring books and, possibly, one of those expensive little candy bars at the front of the store. There's exactly one person checking people out at the Barnes and Noble. Margaret Blanc shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Attire is boring, and generally unremarkable. Plaid shirt, jeans, and a ball cap that has to be worn for sake of being ironic- it says something about dog sled races. Or at least it did ten years ago. It really just looks like it's a bit flakey now.

Margaret eyes her stack of books.

The eyes the person at the front of the line, who seems to be paying entirely in pennies.

She looks at the stack of books again- which consists of two volumes of Curious George, The Bhagavad Gita, Invisible Man, and a book about vegan cooking. The incredibly white, fairly short creature in the line seems like a slightly unstable hipster at the back of the line.

The very... very back of the line.

"Mn."

She looks at the front, and tries to spot some kind of in so she can escape this retail Hell hole and pretend like she got something to eat instead of buying books with the oh, sweety, you should go get a good meal money.

Maggie's never seen this many books in one place. Tops the need for biscotti... whatever that is. And thus, we open our scene- in line.

[Page from Mei] Your room name has changed! do not panic - you should still be in the correct location. Please refresh your screens to see the change.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Just ahead of Margaret, his broad back more or less blocking her view of the cashier and what was taking so long, is a tall fellow that looks like he might just be a grad student from some nearby university. A grad student who used to play college football, judging by the size of his biceps. He has several volumes under his arm - mostly history, also a pop science book. And let's be honest - a goodlooking lad like this one, one who has the face and has the body, one who seems intelligent, and patient, and not at all perturbed by the length of the line - this sort of thing usually warrants a second glance.

No one looks at him more than once. The Single Ladies of Beyonce myth more or less flick a glance at him and away, clutching their books closer to their chest. On a smaller moon, that subtle air of savagery around him, as if not everything is as tame and civilized as it seems, might even be a little exotic. Intriguing.

On a full moon, it's terrifying.

The line shuffles forward slowly. Lukas stretches his jaws in a yawn. Then, rather unexpectedly, he turns around. "Got the time?" he asks Margaret. He's wearing a watch, but he holds that wrist up, "Out of batteries."

[Margaret] This man, this goodlooking young man, is over a foot taller than Margaret. So, when he turns around, she founds herself staring at a little below man nipple height.

No, no no. This is unacceptable.

So, she looks up. And up, and up some more. She even turns her hat around backwards so she can actually look at him. Her eyes are blue, and something about the female seems less tangible than others.Her eyes are blue. Very blue. Ice blue, but more like the idea of ice instead of actual ice. What we think of ice to be rather than what it actually is. She's more spider silk and moonlight than actual female.

"Two forty seven," she doesn't even dig through her pockets for it. The female then moves the stack to rest on a non existant hip. The phone is retrieved and she flips it open. It's one of those phones that one can run over with a car and not expect to damage. She looks at it, then quirks half a frown, "or not. Two fifty eight."

As though it is the phone's purpose in life to thwart her. She checks a glance at his books.

"You a fan of the Bronze Age?"

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "I like ancient history," Lukas replies. Someone else gets in line behind Margaret. His eyes flick over her head, a sort of baseline alertness, and back. "This book compares the Bronze Age across the world. Pretty interesting, actually. By then humans had already spread over most of the globe, but even in far-flung corners of the world the art of bronze smelting was independently discovered at about the same time."

He's a Shadow Lord, of course, a Garou - Margaret can see that plainly. Even if she couldn't, something about the way he speaks of mankind -- humans -- seems to set them apart from himself. It's very subtle; a human wouldn't notice it. Wouldn't dream that others walked in their midsts.

Lukas lifts a hand, books and all, and scritches the side of his nose with the edge of his thumb. Lowering it again, "I just wanted to see what this book theorizes was the reason for this coincidence."

[Margaret] [My repost!]

"Huh, I never really thought about it? But now I'm going to be curious. They're probably going to say something about the whole rise of cities and the transition from a nomadic lifestyle to something else. If we run into each other again, you'll- wait, who wrote that?"

She does check the spine on the book, because curiousity has gotten the better of her, or perhaps she's checking to see if it's some name she recognizes.

"What's your bet on this one? I've got my money on the rise of cities. Humans are squishy, and they don't tend to live in harmony with the- gah, you're gonna look at me like I'm a crazy hippie," she laughs it off, but keeps going anyway, "-anyway, yeah, my bet is on cities."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] " -- with Mother Gaia?"

There's just enough wryness in his tone to make it seem tongue-in-cheek. And in a way, it is; only, it's closer to an inside joke.

The line shuffles forward. Lukas shows Margaret the spines of the books. The authors are no one notable; minor scholars of archaeology, of anthropology. "I'll let you know what they say when I'm done reading it," he says. The girl behind Margaret rolls her eyes a little; she thinks he's trying to pick her up.

[Melody Drake] She settles in to line just behind the woman behind Margaret, well dressed in a feminine suit, hair pulled back today. She has a laptop bag slung over one shoulder and doesn't seem all that put out by the line and the person paying in pennies up at the counter- not yet at least. In her hand she holds two books on... art? Modern art? It seems, and a third with text in what appears to be French.

Still, Lukas is a man you notice. A man you notice more when the moon is full and her eyes flick from the iPhone in her hand towards the man two people in front of her, and the woman he's speaking to. Her head tilts slightly as she listens, shifting the books in her arm as she slides her phone away.

[Margaret] "Pretty much," she tells him, and she even nods. Up and down and the stack of books- childhood tomes of ancient lore, classics, and vegan cooking- are moved from her right hip to her left, "soooo, just so you're not forever Bronze Age Guy and I'm weird albino hippie, I'm Maggie."

She even offers a hand to the guy. Curious George starts to slide downward and Maggie leans so the book doesn't slide down. Her eyes travel down the spine of the books, "and a pulp science reader at that."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Pop science," Lukas corrects, taking her hand. "There's a difference. Lukáš."

Eyerolling girl rolls her eyes again, more obviously. Blows a sigh. Then, acting all the world like she's just tired of listening in on the bad pickup -- not at all because she's unsettled somehow by the black-haired man, the white-haired girl, and the new brunette taking up a place behind her -- she flounces out of line.

[Melody Drake] Fate is officially her new best friend.

Lukas was vaguely interesting before- now that she's caught his name, Melody watches him with with a slightly narrowed gaze, not hiding her curiosity. She knows that name, has been told the name by three people now and while it was entirely possible that there were at least several dozen Lukas' in Chicago... the way she'd been running into people lately, it probably was who she was looking for.

Still, how exactly did one introduce themselves to their possible Tribal Elder in the middle of Barnes and Noble in the middle of the day? A puzzle, to be sure.

[Margaret] "Oh-ho, pop science. What's the difference? And it's nice to meet you, Lukáš-" says the snow drift "-and I mean that, too. It's cool to meet people who read things for purposes other than term papers."

The line moves behind her, and amidst the hand shaking and the talking, the female takes a step back and turns. She finds herself being the creamy filling in a Shadow Lord oreo. The Child of Gaia doesn't seem to mind this. Her hand finds her stack of books again. Her attention flickers from one lord to the other.

You can tell a lot about a person from their choice of books.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] There are, indeed, likely to be multiple Lukases in a city like Chicago. So many Slavs here. So many Russians, Poles, Czechs, Slovaks. However, somewhat fewer of them are marked with such unmistakable breeding. Everything about this particular Lukas speaks of his tribe: his black hair, his icy eyes, his solid, powerful build, fit for any mountain winter.

As eyeroller girl huffs off, Lukas's eyes flick up again to see who comes up next. This time they pause a moment, as though in recognition. Then the cashier behind him calls.

Next person in line, please?

"Looks like I'm up," he says to Margaret. "I'll see you around."

He goes to check out. Sooner or later the other two as well, likely at their own registers; their paths seem to diverge there, strangers moving on with their lives. Eventually, though, all of them exit the bookstore. When they do, Lukas is waiting for the other two outside, leaning against an EMERGENCY PARKING ONLY signpost, browsing through one of his new purchases. His other books are at his feet. He looks up as they emerge, and he smiles.

"You guys want to get a sandwich and get properly acquainted?"

[Melody Drake] Her purchase is paid for, slipped away into a bag, tossed over her shoulder as she heads out the door. She pauses, perhaps mildly sirp

[Melody Drake] [[ack, sorry]]

Her purchase is paid for, slipped away into a bag, tossed over her shoulder as she heads out the door. She pauses, perhaps mildly surprised to see Lukas waiting there. Though, really, she realizes she shouldn't be and instead smiles faintly back. "That would be most welcome. Thank you."

[Margaret] "Where can you get a sandwich in this place?" she asks, once she comes out.

Her conversation with the woman at the other end of the register had been relatively fruitless. There was some staring, some conversation, Mags eventually bought one of those expensive candy bars and has foregone this. She's an adult she's a mother and she's still getting an allowance. Margaret does some quick mental math.

"Sounds good, lead the way oh mighty Tallest."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "I like Manny's," Lukas says. "Cafeteria-style dining at its best. Great roast beef sandwiches. Decent pastrami too." He's already leading the way, so to speak. The Shadow Lord's casual in darkwash jeans, a thin pale-grey sweater. His manner's casual too. Maybe new books put him in a nice mood. Those books swing by his side as they go, rustling the distinctive dark green B&N bag. "You guys new in town?"

[Melody Drake] She doesn't argue about where they're going, simply falls into step behind Lukas, following him for now. She herself had no idea where to go for food yet, so the safest bet was to trust those who knew the city. Or so she assumes.

"Yes," she murmurs in response to the question. "I just arrived a little less then a week ago."

[Margaret] She blows air out of her mouth and shakes out her shirt. The female is unbuttoning her shirt and shaking it out. She's got a tank top underneath, so it doesn't border on indecent exposure, but she... well... this is just too reakin hot for her taste. She adjusts her hat; Maggie doesn't fit in with these people. It's clear with the way she observes the city. Aware, but taking her time to sort through the sensory input.

"I am," she says, "I literally just got here."

And? She looks at Melody and perks up. her eyebrows shoot up, "no kidding, huh? Where'd you come from?"

[Melody Drake] "Seattle, Washington." She answers Margaret, with a quirked smile. The accent is there in her voice, but just barely, like she's managed to wash it out over time. Her lack of a Chicago accent, however, her shorter A's, is most definitely noticeable to anyone who's ever lived in the city.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] They're a few blocks off the Loop; right where downtown goes from swanky to rough-around-the-corners. Not quite trashy yet. Manny's sounds like a greasy spoon, but 'cafeteria' was really the best description -- a big room with a noisy kitchen, a school-lunch-counter down one side serving daily specials plus the standard sandwiches: pastrami, corned beef, roast beef. Baked chicken too. As they approach, they can see customers coming in and out.

Not exactly a private place, but noise and crowds give its own sort of anonymity. No one's going to listen to three 20-somethings in the corner.

"Well," Lukas says, pulling the door open and holding it while M&M enter, "welcome to Chicago. I'm a New York City transplant myself, but I've been here a little over two years now."

[Melody Drake] There is a murmured thank as Lukas holds the door, the dark haired woman slipping in and glancing around, before she looks back to Lukas with a smile. "Half the country says the the two cities are similar, while those who live in said cities flatly deny it. Which is true?"

[Margaret] "I'm from Resolute," where the Hell is that? "it's in Canada. It used to be part of the Northwest Territory, but it's Nunavut now."

Is that place is even on a map, the rest of the world would be surprised. The little white thing, with her hat on and her posture inremarkable, seems to do an astoundinglygood job of getting lost in a crowd. She makes a seemingly innocuous sweep of the room. Keeps an eye on her entrances and her exits.

Once there's food to be had, she's good.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Chicago's nothing like New York," Lukas says firmly. He nods them over to the counter, peering at the offerings today. He ends up deciding on a pastrami reuben on rye. As obscene amounts of meat are heaped onto bread, topped by cheese and sauerkraut and mustard, he continues, "I guess you could argue that they're both big northern cities, centers of commerce and trade, but that's about it. New York's ten times bigger. Not size-wise per se; it's just the way it feels. More crowded, noisier, meaner, crappier and glitzier at once. Everything's there. You stand in Manhattan and you feel like you're at the center of the world. You stand in the Loop and you feel like you're at the center of the midwest. You're still at the center of something, and you know it, but it's not the same.

"Which isn't to bash Chicago," he goes on, catching the gimlet eye he's getting from the guy making his sandwich. "I like it here a lot. It's cheaper, people are nicer. And the city's got a lot of culture and swank without getting pretentious. Manhattan can be pretentious as hell.

"I miss New York, though," he finishes -- as if that weren't already obvious. And he goes get his food and a receipt. Payment apparently occurs on the way out. "And," he adds, smiling, "I've never been to Nunavut or the Northwest Territory.

"You guys want to sit back there?" He nods toward some tables toward the back.

[Melody Drake] She orders baked chicken, listening to Lukas explain the differences between the two cities. Her lips curl up into an even more amused smile as he adds in what he likes about Chicago to appease the man making his sandwich.

"In the back would be fine," she agrees, before she glances back to Maggie. "I liked Canada, a lot, the few months I got to live there. I was in Quebec though, nowhere near the Northwest Territories. Nunavut was further north, wasn't it?"

[Margaret] "It's cold," she informs Lukas, "the arctic circle's pretty, though. It's really clean. I've been here for less than twelve hours and I feel like I need a bath... but the food's better. More people probably fit in this place than there are in Resolute."

But! No one's called her Wyrmcomer in the last twenty-four hours either. Overall, it's a nice trade.

"And Nunavut is east of the northwest territory. The Canadian goverment split it up, and it's northwest of Quebec. Crazy times... I can't.. okay, I have to ask," she looks at the two off them, "does city life get easier?"

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "I'm probably the wrong guy to ask."

Doubtlessly at some point, these two will meet Lukas in quite another setting. The moot, perhaps. Or some nicer restaurant, someplace where the light's all ambient and the plates are dazzling white squares and the food's more art than sustenance. They'll meet him somewhere where he's being polite, where he's being courteous, or where he's On Duty. What a world of change then from this guy, this creature who sprawls in his chair, who actually tucks a paper napkin into his collar to catch stray bits of food before lifting his truly enormous sandwich to his face.

"I was born in the suburbs of Prague. And I grew up in New York, then ran between New York and Boston for a few years, then came out here. I know city life better than rural life, I think. For what it's worth, I like it.

"Seattle's a nice town too," he adds to Melody. "All green and grey, lots of hills. Lovely."

[Melody Drake] "... I'm not much better to ask," she admits, sipping at the water. "I grew up in the Seattle suburbs, then in the heart of Settle. I was in Canda only a few months before I was back in Seattle again, and then... straight out here."

A nod to Lukas, an almost sheepish smile. "... I think I enjoy Chicago more. I loved where I grew up, but Chicago is... something else. Seattle, however, really does have better coffee. I miss the coffee already."

She pauses before she seems to realize something. "... I'm sorry, I never introduced myself. Melody."

[Margaret] "So, you're Melody, and you're Lu-jeezus, I'm sorry, I can't take you seriously when you have a napkin tucked into your shirt."

Yeah, that's right. Call an adren on his napkin placement. That is going to go over so well. The Child of Gaia stabbed a french fry with her fork (while we're on the subject of absurd eating habits). She's grinning like a dumbass and she shoves food in her mouth like it's going to get cold at any moment.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas smirks. "Yeah well, we'll see who's laughing when you're wearing your lunch." And unabashedly, he bites into his sandwich. A piece of pastrami flops out the back, lands on the napkin. He raises his eyebrows as though to say, See?

Wiping his hand quickly on the napkin, then, he holds it out to Melody and Margaret. "Lukáš," he says, "called Wyrmbreaker, Cold Victory. Adren. Alpha of the Unbroken, the Ahrouns, and the Shadow Lords."

Said quietly, of course. And rather casually, all things considered.

[Melody Drake] A hand presses to her mouth, holding back a laugh as Lukas makes a mess nearly instantly. You are just not supposed to laugh at Adren, even if it's hilarious. But when he introduces himself, her eyes glitter for a moment before her hand reaches out to take his.

"An honor," she says quietly. "Melody Drake, known as Sweet Whispers. Cliath Ragabash, child of Thunder. I'm very glad to finally meet you."

[Margaret] See? The look says. She raises her brows and looks at him. It's askance, half saucy and half over-dramatic. If one could have assured that Margaret had the internet, the look would say o rly? But the look is brief and it's time to get back at the task at hand.

Names. The important one.

"I'm Midnight Sun, the Winter Dirge-" and the Winter Dirge is a name that gives pause, something that brings forth a sor tof cognitive disconnect because that name is that of a hero. That name is something that is a point of pride for Children of Gaia. That name is something that is whispered about, has been heard on at least three continents and has been spoken like a curse by the enemies of Gaia.

that name is what people see when they look at margaret. And that name is over six generations old.

Margaret Jillian Blanc can't be much older than twenty.

"Child of Gaia, Cliath, ragabash, and I didn't come here with a pack. Everyone else thought it was too hot... Maggie usually works, though."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "That's right," Lukas says, recognizing the name, "I got your letter. Sorry I haven't gotten back to you. Too much on my plate, no pun intended. How are you settling in?"

And recognition, again, of the name. "Winter Dirge," he says, curious. "I've heard that name. Though the Garou that was attached to it was ... definitely not you. Were you named in [his/her] honor?"

[Melody Drake] "That's quite all right," she answers, holding up a hand as if to wave it up. "That I can understand completely. I'm settling well, I've met a few others, though I have a few places yet I'd like to visit."

Confusion flickers across her face at Maggie's name, like it's something she's heard but she can't place, not at all. So she falls silent to listen, since Lukas seems to know more.

[Margaret] And people only thought Silver Fangs cared about their lineage. This, no, this is what gets Margaret excited, because there are stories and she knows them. She drops her voice, and it's to best keep a secret, "well, technically? The first Winter Dirge was a Galliard from Scotland, but they say that he could remember back as far as Babylon. He bartered and negotiated and defended the caerns of the Uktena in the west when he came to the United States. He was also... well... prolific."

She shrugs a little.

"Essentially, all the generations after him were given the name because the wyrm was terrified of him and the deeds and promises he made couldn't be fulfilled in just one generation. If this keeps up, the name will reflect in the umbra long after I've died and the others that come after me. I don't remember him as often as I remember others, though. He's technically my uncle on my father's side."

But, you know. Six generations back.

"So, yeah, I'm not him, but we've been male, female, and just about any other auspice under the sun. Not a Galliard since him, though. Gaia did her best and not a generation after has been able to top that."

[Margaret] "Erm. Moon. Not under the sun. Anyway."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] While Margaret tells the story of her name, Lukas finishes the first half of his sandwich. He picks a bit of sauerkraut off his napkin and, after a second's consideration, flicks it onto his plate. Eating it is a little too crass. He has a gulp of cherry cream soda, then, and picks up the second half of his sandwich.

"So which promise are you here to fulfill?"

[Margaret] "Decimate anything that dares impede the northern wind," she says, "and there's a hive to the north, and whatever it's doing would definitely impede the northern wind. Chicago was standing way before then, so..."

A beat, "once I've done that I'll probably move south."

[Melody Drake] [I am so sorry, but I so have to head to bed. Thank you both for the scene, and Damon, she'd give Lukas a way to contact her if need be.]
to Lukas Wyrmbreaker, Margaret

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [aw, sorry! i meant to direct this next post at melody re: The Entry Spiel *dies*]
to Melody Drake

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [aw, sorry! i meant to direct this next post at melody re: The Entry Spiel *dies*]
to Margaret, Melody Drake

[Melody Drake] [... haha, I can last for five more minutes if you need]
to Lukas Wyrmbreaker, Margaret

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [w00t! *types fast*]
to Margaret, Melody Drake

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas gives a short laugh at that; not mean, but wry. "Not a hard task at all, that," he says, gently kidding. "Fortunately for you, that's more or less the long-term plan here too.

"I'm about to deliver my spiel," he adds, an aside, an explanation. "Usually it's for my tribesman arriving to the city, but you might as well listen in." His attention focuses on Melody then. This is serious enough that he puts his sandwich down, straightens in his chair, wipes his mouth and pulls the napkin out from under his collar.

"As you've just heard from Margaret," he says, "there's a Hive in the north. It's one of our many problems. We're also getting flak from a mafia family moving in uncomfortably close to Caern territory. The kin are dealing with it, but if you've got strings to pull, you should definitely consider pitching in.

"In the past month or two there've been intermittent reports of kin kidnappings. It's been quiet for a while, but we haven't gotten to the bottom of that yet. Both of you are Ragabashes; you'll probably be of good use there. You should also make yourself known to my packmate, Sarita, who recently won Eldership over your auspice.

"Both of you should also look for a pack, asap. If I call on you for war, I call by pack, not by name. If you need suggestions, go to the Caern; look at the shrines. By and large, the totem defines the pack. If you're interested, I've enjoyed meeting the two of you. I wouldn't mind giving either of you a shot under Perun.

"As for you, Melody -- you're my tribeswoman, so I'm your default Alpha until you find a permanent pack. If you get in trouble, come to me. If you cause trouble, I come to you. And if you decide you've fallen in love with one of Thunder's kinsmen, come to me and I'll help you sort out who you should be challenging.

"That's pretty much. Questions?"

[Melody Drake] Amber eyes narrow, fingers tightening on a fork ever so faintly as she listens to Lukas talk, eyes on him, giving him her full attention. Names are noted, what she should do is noted- it's noted as well that the kin here do something, are allowed to do things, and are being protected when things happen to them. It pleases her, and she makes no move to hide that, not now.

Something flickers in her gaze at the mention of joining a pack, a quirk of her lips at some private joke perhaps. But then she's serious again, with a nod, not failing to notice that Lukas specifically said Thunder's kinsmen. Perhaps, she was going to ask about that, to make sure she understood correctly, but her phone chirps, a very specific noise it seems, and some color drains- just a little. Her gaze flicks down and her mouth twists at whatever number is there.

No. She's not pleased.

"No sir," Melody answers, lifting her gaze back to him. "... no questions at this time, though I'm sure I will have some later. I'm sorry though, unfortunately, I have to answer this."

She doesn't want to answer it. She doesn't want to disrespect her Tribal Elder. But it is, for once, an absolute must.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [pretty. much. IT. i can type.]

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "No problem," he says. "Glad to meet you, Melody."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [thanks for staying! night!!]
to Margaret, Melody Drake

[Melody Drake] [Thank you as well! G'night!]
to Lukas Wyrmbreaker, Margaret

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [btw - i'm not gonna consider melody an "official" prospective, like on the pack thread and all, unless she says she's interested!]
to Melody Drake

[Melody Drake] [She's actually been approached by a pack, and Lukas clinched her decision about joining *G* She'll probably try and snag him another time, since she's got a couple questions]
to Lukas Wyrmbreaker

[Margaret] "Oh, yeah, I figured I'd be movin' out of Chicago in a couple weeks. Tops," she is obviously kidding.

Lukas announces his spiel, and Margaret takes this as an opportunity to stop shoveling food in her mouth in time to- oop, not get food on her shirt- and pay attention to his serious speech. She sours, darkens at the mention of missing kin.

Not so much darkens as becomes colder. Less of a summer breeze, more of the Arctic Circle.

Report to Sarita, and she nods. Gets her marching orders from the head of the War. Look for a permanent pack, or people she can tolerate long enough to get that goal done. Talk to Lukas if you want a shot at this.

Less than twenty-four hours in, and she already has an answer.

"Since you're the Alpha... do you mind if I ask what you guys are all about? Where's your territory?"

And, it's odd, because this is a legitimate, sincere question.

"And what are the school districts like around here?"

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [awesome! good deal.]
to Melody Drake

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "I haven't the faintest idea about school districts," Lukas says, quirking an eyebrow. "Are you still going to school?

"We don't really have territory either. We've got a Loft. I have a little house out in the sticks. I have my room at the BroHo. My mate has a condo. Kate has a mansion somewhere up north. Sinclair's got an apartment with her boyfriend in San Diego -- Glass Walker, can jump through phones," a quick'n'dirty explanation of that apparent contradiction, "and ... Sarita has a van.

"We're more concerned about Caern safety and Sept unity than grabbing up land and keeping other people out. I guess if you want to know what we're all about, that's what we're about. Getting the Sept to work together. Getting over tribal bullshit and testosterone fits and general bitchiness. Just ... standing together instead of dying alone.

"And we're about the war. So, truth be told, we might be a little hard-edged if you're really coming from a peace-love-and-understanding sort of background. I say unity and I say Caern safety, but at the end of the day none of us are really the type to patiently work drama out. Sometimes it comes down to fall in or get out of the way. So," a shrug, "whenever we can, we lead by example and by the trust and faith of others. If we can't, sometimes we do lead by dominance.

"Then again that could be where you fit in. We have a lot of 'badass' in the pack, to be totally blunt. Maybe a little bit of the softer alternative wouldn't be such a bad thing."

[Margaret] "I have a kindergartener," she tells him, "school district is suddenly something that has become ridiculously important to me. She lives with my folks right now but, you know, they're not from here, either."

She clarifies. She has a five year old, and as we've established before Margaret Jillian Blanc can't be much older than twenty. we digress, though, because she's paying attentionand listening to what it is that he has to say, and how his pack... well... that pack really does sound like they bleed badass.

Right down to the Ragabash with a van.

"Sounds like you guys are the shit," she says. Blinks once. Twice, "but it sounds like you've got a solid enough purpose that you have to be a badass in order to keep true to what you have to do."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas's face softens for a moment; a smile flickers across. "I had a dream once that I had a little girl," he says. "About five."

No further elaboration. When he smiles again, that wryness is back. "Worried you're not badass enough?" he jokes gently.

[Margaret] "I'm excited," she tells him, and it's something genuine, "I get to quit being mommy-on-the-phone for a little while. I don't get to do that very often."

Maybe the moment of softness was too much because she, too, goes back to being boisterous. Pleased, indestructable with that sort of young bravado.

"Psh, you guys can't handle this ball of badass. I am made of pure concentrated badassery and Unicorn's ever-loving glory, which means sparklie badass."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas laughs, picking up the last quarter or so of his sandwich again. The thing was big; two slabs of rye bread with enough meat stuffed between to fill four lesser sandwiches. He's almost put the whole thing away. Ahrouns. Their appetites.

"Well," he says, "as long as you don't start glittering in the sun, I'm sure we'll be all right.

"Can I ask you something?" And if she nods, "What happens if you die before you fulfill the promise? Does the name just pass on to the next Garou in your family?"

[Margaret] "It always does. The name is more of an idea... and when we die, because we'll all die, that name and what we stood for will reflect on into the umbra. It'll fight banes and for Gaia and be a symbol long after we're dead because who and what the Winter Dirge is will be more than some Scotsman who, once upon a time, did great things.

"I know I share my name with at least one other garou right now."

a moment passes.

"As for the promise, Winter Dirge's word is to be kept, and honor is transcendent. So long as there is a vow that is unfulfilled, there will be Garou in my line to uphold that bargain, and if it takes until the Apocalypse to do so, then so be it."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] She's an interesting mix. Young and old at once. Innocent and wise. Wide-eyed ingenue to the city with a two hundred year old name. Barely more than a child herself, and a mother of a five year old.

Lukas considers her a moment, chewing the last enormous bite of his pastrami reuben. When he finishes, he drains the last of his cream soda as well, then wipes his mouth on a napkin.

"I hope you keep your promises," he says, "you and all the other Winter Dirges.

"I'm going to head back to the Loft." He tips his empty soda bottle over on his plate, folds his napkin atop. "You want to come with me, meet and get to know some of us and vice versa? Run with us for a few weeks and see how it goes?"

[Margaret] "Sounds good," she says. Food was all but forgotten, but she realizes that they're about to leave and, well, the food goes down the hatch. Quickly. She doesn't want to forget about it, as it would seem.

Reflexes alone keep her from dribbling food on her shirt.

"I guess I'll go chat you guys up. I mean, you seem pretty cool and all that. Even if you are kind of a nerd, Mister Pop-Science-and-Bronze-Aged-Ancient-History-Man."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "You should see my collection on the Crusades," Lukas replies, picks up his tray, and heads for the trash cans.

Cafeteria-style dining, after all.

[annnnnd i call a wrap!]

[Margaret] (thanks mister! I had a blast!)