Showing posts with label jesmond. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jesmond. Show all posts

Friday, September 17, 2010

potluck.

[Danicka Musil] When the subject of where people were going to sit down and eat came up, it wasn't that Danicka had been confused about the question; the concept of a dining table isn't new to her. It's just that she doesn't have one. And she had no intention of buying one solely for an evening at home with supposed Family, one that would have to be rented and given back or left someplace in the middle of her expansive, curving living room. She'd finally decided that the Shadow Lords of Chicago could eat where she and her multiple roommates and her mate ate

(which is to say, wherever they could find a seat and a nearby flat surface)

or they could just stand there and be awkward, if they preferred. There's no real dining room in 23-C, Kingsbury Plaza. There's the cushioned teak chairs and the small table between them out on the little balcony. There's the rather enormous square black coffee table between the couch and the flatscreen, and that couch could comfortably seat four or sleep two without needing to unfold (which it doesn't, anyway). There's the barstools over by the kitchen counter. There's a couple of leather chairs and a circular glass table between them; they overlook the city, the river, the startling view from Danicka's apartment.

One can understand why she never bought curtains for that wall of glass that makes up almost the entire eastern half of her apartment. At this time of evening the light isn't harsh; she can apparently afford the air conditioning when it is. The sunset is behind them, and the view is all gold and dusky twilight as one by one, two by two, however they arrive, the Shadow Lords come to the residence of a kinswoman to whom this

-- 'this' being willingly opening the place where she lives to fullbloods of the tribe --

would have once been unthinkable.


It's easy enough to get there. The building is tall and gleaming. The doorman balks a bit at folk like Dimitry and Aanon and Edwin and Mila, but at least they aren't as bad as that beast of a man who suddenly has a key now. They're all buzzed in through the intercom; they all ride twenty-three floors in the elevator. They all turn east and cross plush, elegantly patterned carpet and numbered doors to find apartment C. They all are greeted with a smile and told to make themselves at home by the same woman who looks like she's in her late twenties or early thirties, wavy blonde hair held off her face by two small clips on each side, green eyes murky and amber-flecked. She's in socked feet; there are a few pairs of shoes by the door in the entryway.

The whole place smells richly of food, but it's no secret: the kitchen is open, faces the living room, and anyone who wants to can peek in on what they're being served tonight.



[Layout of Danicka's place here: http://www.chicagodusk.com/index.php?jove=gallery&picture=6648]

[Mila Davis] Mila arrived at the appointed hour. She looked quite well put together tonight, actually - apparently she could manage to dress up if she wanted to. The dark haired lone trueborn female Shadow Lord wore a short black dress with a v cut front, a set of black pearls and a pair of zebra print heels. Her hair was curled and pulled back, out of her face.

She'd arrived with a pie - peacan in fact and it looked as if it was homemade. She'd set it down in an appropriate spot which Danika would approve - helped herself to a glass of some sort of alcoholic beverage and then claimed a spot on the couch as she waited for the rest of the family to arrive.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Some of those pairs of shoes in the entryway are significantly larger than the others. There's a pair of loafers that straddle the line between dress and athletic; a pair of running shoes. Two pairs of skate-inspired sneakers, one considerably more scuffed than the other, and they're all far, far too large to go on the kinswoman's feet.

They belong, of course, to the Ahroun who's currently in the kitchen, crouched down, peering through the oven glass at ... whatever might be in there. When he introduces himself, his name has suffixes: Alpha of this, that, and that. This doesn't seem like a formal meeting with an agenda, though. There was none appended to whatever invitations may have gone out; no mention of Rites and whispers and plots and plans and challenges.

Casual. That's how Lukas looks. And: like he may have been helping to cook. There's flour on his hands, flour on the sleeves of his soft woven pullover. As the first of their guests begin to arrive, he stands up, dusting his hands on the seat of his jeans as he comes out of the kitchen to greet Mila.

"Hey. Good to see you again. Pecan pie, awesome. It'll go great with the vanilla ice cream in the freezer. Is your packmate coming too?"

[Mila Davis] She smiled warmly at Lukas' greeting. "Lovely home you and Danicka have.. and yeah, it's nice to see you again too - we don't do family stuff often enough. I'm glad we got to tonight."

"As far as I knew he was coming - but he wasn't home when I left the house. There's a note on the fridge incase he shows up there and forgot about it. I do hope he'll make it."

[Aanon Adolfus] Aanon dressed for the occassion. Black pipping charcoal suit from Lords of London, solid black dress shirt and silk tie to match. His fro done up in the beginnings of locks. Spiked but respectable in length. Though the gold earings and nose stud in his left nostral might have been better to go without. He wore them nevertheless.

A half case, wooden crate for six Don Que liters of Peurto Rican Rum were all he had brought, besides a single bottle of Spanish Merlot. If he were nervous he did not show it as he stood in the entry way, chocolate eyes gazing upon them all.

[Danicka Musil] When Mila gets there, there's no music playing. Danicka tips her head as she lets the Galliard in. "You didn't bring your guitar," she comments, though it's without judgement. "Over there," she says, when Mila inquires as to where the pie should go. Right on the bar. Right under the noses of any dessert-firsters who might decide to sit on the barstools to eat.

"There's wine over there, glasses in the cabinet above." The kitchen is small but Danicka's mostly over by the stove, and actually quite good at keeping herself out of the way when others are moving around her. She's provided a Barolo, but doesn't mention the Polish vodka, as though it's a treat to be brought out later. "There's beer in the fridge, too, if that's more your style." And there is. And plenty of it.

Danicka herself isn't precisely dressed up. Her slacks are cream-colored, hang low on her hips, and are on the loose side. Her top is lapis-colored, off the shoulder, but most of it is covered by the apron she's wearing to cook. She could put on heels and a little more makeup and go out in this, go out several fine places in this, but she wouldn't go clubbing in it. She is apparently comfortable enough to cook in it. Which she does, nudging Lukas aside with a bump of her leg so she can get back in front of the stove.

What's in the oven right now does not smell like much flour was used in it. Those are waiting over on one counter, covered with teacloths, waiting to bake after the lamb is done roasting. "What are you doing," she's murmuring to him as he's getting out of the way, "it's not like stalking it now is going to make it any deader."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "I'm just hungry," Lukas replies in the same sotto-voce tone, the corner of his mouth hooking upward as he and his mate move around each other.

Mila assumes this is their shared home; it's not a surprising assumption, given the shoes by the door, the scent in the air, and one neither Lukas nor Danicka bothers to clarify. It'd be a long explanation, anyway. "Well," Lukas replies instead, smiling, "we'll be here all night, so he can drop by later on if he's busy.

"Hi," he's caught sight of Aanon: their first face-to-face meeting, unless they'd crossed paths at the moot revel. "New in town, aren't you?" He holds out his hands to help with the crate.

[Mila Davis] It was an easy assumption to make - they were mates, weren't they? Since her assumption wasn't corrected, nothing more was said on the matter.

"No.. no guitar tonight. I wasn't sure all of you enjoy my style of music - so best left without." She took a small sip of her aquired wine glass.

"Ah.. Aanon - welcome. I was hoping to see you this evening." A beat. "Lovely taste in wine." She grinned, one leg crossing over the other.

[Aanon Adolfus] That drew a raise of his brow. There were an easy going aire of eye, a sliver of a grin as he nodded then shook his head. "Si Senor..I mean..no. Sort of. What the hell, yeah. I guess so. Oh gracious.." Allowing Lukas the honors of taking the gifted case of rum. His other hand offering the bottle of Merlot as he stepped further inside their small abode, and for the 'lady' of the house. "A pleasure, I am Aanon 'Drinkwater' Adolfus..."

[Aanon Adolfus] "Mila..." With a curt nod in her direction.

[Danicka Musil] Her eyes do flick over at Mila when she says that Lukas and she have a lovely home. Her lips quirk slightly in a smile, as though she's pleased, or amused, or a trifle wry. She and he do seem at ease in this space together, even a space as small as the kitchen. She doesn't correct Mila. The difference is intuitive, anyway, and doesn't bear or need explanation.

There are indeed triggers to the senses of Garou that this place is shared. The smell of Lukas permeates this place almost as deeply as Danicka's scent, as though he spends as much time here as he does in his own room at the Brotherhood. A few of his shoes are by the door, but some of them were put in the hall closet where the only jacket that would possibly be necessary for September in Chicago also hangs. He acts like he lives here, but

why shouldn't he? This is his mate's residence. His mate, at least in the eyes of the Nation, belongs to him. Everything she owns belongs to him. On a very real level this is his territory as much as Danicka is.

There are other scents, too. There's a cat living here, and though no human nose could pick it up -- the place certainly isn't covered in cat hair or the reek of an ill-kept animal -- the Garou know it as soon as they come in. No sight of the thing, though. No dishes anywhere, no sight of food, no bed, no litter pan. Just the hint of a scent, telling their twitching noses that it's there. Somewhere. Being a ninja, no doubt.

She cooks while Lukas moves out of the kitchen with Mila and Aanon -- who Danicka briefly smiles at and shows where to put the copious amounts of liquor he brought -- and she does so quietly, as though

she knows her place. Even if this is 'her place'.

[Danicka Musil] [Whoops, misread. Addendum:]

Danicka briefly smiles at Aanon and shows where to put the copious amounts of liquor he brought, shaking his hand only for a second before taking it back so she can return to her work. "Dani&+269;ka Musil," she says, and leaves it at that. She cooks as Lukas and the others move out of the kitchen and she does so quietly, as though

she knows her place. Even if this is 'her place'.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] The case of rum is easily lifted. That's what the Ahrouns are good for, isn't it? Heavy lifting. A strong back, a sturdy pair of arms.

"Lukáš," he replies over the top of the crate, "called Wyrmbreaker." He shifts the box onto one hip, grips Aanon's forearm in a brief warrior's clasp. "Interesting deedname. Can I ask what it signifies?"

The crate thumps heavily onto the kitchen counter, a few flakes of wood splintering off. The rum jostles gently inside. Lukas searches the drawers for something to pry the top off with, eventually coming up with a small hammer.

[Danicka Musil] The hammer, perhaps to Lukas's chagrin, has a soft pink grip. Danicka is giggling, her back to most of them, as she lifts the lid of a large stock pot and adds a generous sprinkling of rosemary.

[Mila Davis] Mm. Rum. This gathering might be really fun afterall. Mila stood then, and headed towards the bar stool area - where she could watch the men wrestle with the case.

[Aanon Adolfus] "It is, both life and death. For the thirsty drink deep. Fanatic and Rationale men. It is what I do. I fill your cup....of your making." With a slight inclination of his brow and head in deference to the elder before him.

A quick glance about the apartment and back upon Lukas and Danicka before sliding to Mila with a hint of joy. "You have a nice place. Quaint...personable. The Rum is from San Juan, I hope you find it to your liking. It is our Island's best." With that Riccan accent. Again glancing towards Mila as she resettled herself by the bar stool area.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Compliments should go to my mate," Lukas says -- and there the line is drawn after all. "It's her home, and she decorated."

They're a remarkably multinational gathering, just as the Lords are a remarkably multicultural tribe. The best and brightest and strongest -- that's what they're looking for, after all. Lukas is perhaps the most traditionally Shadow Lord of them all, his heritage a pure lineage straight out of central east europe. Danicka's bloodlines cross borders, but manages to be mostly Slavic. Mila's first name suggests something similar; her last name -- and her 'side job' in music -- suggests something far more Americana. And Aanon: even a hundred years ago, most the Nation would have mistaken him for a Strider. Or maybe a Bastet.

"Well," Lukas says of the rum, grinning, levering the top off the crate with a squeal of iron on wood, "let's get started on it, shall we?" He pulls a bottle out, handing it to Aanon. "Will you do the honors?"

[Aanon Adolfus] As Lukus speaks, Aanon inches towards Mila with a snicker. "Really it means only to Drink Deeply" Casting her a wink before turning. Pausing as Lukas asks if he'd do the honors. A nod and he grasps the offered bottle. But before he opens it, he sheds his suit blazer. Relaxing his shoulders before openning the Rum. Sliding it over the bar counter to rest alone for any to take on their own volition.

"And how have you been senora?" Turning back to Mila

[Luana Kirchmann] Luana arrives with Simon. After knocking on the door and coming in, she spies shoes and slips off her heels without being asked or even expected. It drops her down a few inches to her small height, leaving plenty to tower over her. She's carrying a platter with her, of fruits, cut and styled expertly enough that she's either a chef in the making or she's just purchased them. Its a platter that comes with some cheeses too and the strawberries are drizzled with hardened chocolate. Speaking of chocolates, there's a big box of those imported, top of the line things with one of those sticky box attached to the top. Simon's got some red wine that she purchased and asked him to carry.

"Hello!" she greets enthusiastically once she's actually in the door, looking a bit flustered. "Sorry that I am late. I have Simon with me." The woman is dressed in a black dress, enough straps to bare some flesh at the shoulder back but the rest of it rather modest. Her hair is bound up into a messy french styled roll and her make up is minimal. This wasn't too formal, after all.

"Here, these are for you." The box of chocolates is for the hostess of the house, Danicka, and if the woman isn't too quick to protest she also gets kisses on both cheeks and a warm smile.

[Luana Kirchmann] [sticky box = sticky bows attached. oh vey.]

[Mila Davis] "Ah.. well, I suppose. Likely better after sampling some of your fine rum." She quirked a small grin and finished her wine so that she could pour herself a small sample.

"Have you thought further on your place here in Chicago?" Likely Aanon would know what she was asking about there - given their previous conversations.

Her gaze shifted to the door - first to Luana whom she offered a welcoming smile.. and then a bit further back.. to her packmate. She just smirked.

[Aanon Adolfus] "Si, I have." A slow smile caressed his lips as he turned to view the two new arrivals.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [a sticky box would be rather suspicious.]

While Aanon deals with the rum, Lukas sets the crate back on the floor to make room for the potluck. "Luana. Simon! And together. Suddenly," he smiles, reaching to greet Simon with the same armclasp he'd given Aanon, "it makes more sense why you weren't with your Alpha.

"Have you guys met? This is Aanon, called Drinkwater. Aanon, this is Simon, called Bone-Grinder, Mila's packmate. This is Luana, one of our kinswomen. From Germany, I believe."

[Danicka Musil] "Tumblers and shot glasses are above the wine glasses," Danicka informs them, as rum is opened up behind her. She seems quite aware of what's going on, even when she's not looking. The pot she's stirring smells of garlic, of the rosemary she just added.

Here and there she has to pause in her cooking, or Lukas in his mingling, to go to buzz people up. One of these is Luana, coming up with fruits and cheeses and strawberries, another bottle of wine, a box of chocolates. Danicka actually wipes her hands on her apron to help the other woman carry all of it in, laughing lightly at Luana's enthusiasm.

"D&+283;kuji," she says, indulging in the kiss-kiss greeting that's given with a sparse reciprocation. If she thinks it overly familiar, she doesn't speak up to say so. "Thank you," she repeats, as though the Czech came more naturally to her, this time, than the English.

Danicka steps back and starts pointing to empty spots on the counters, which are getting filled quickly. "Fruit and cheese there, wine there, dessert there. We'll share these," she says of the chocolates, and puts them up on the counter beside the case of rum. "Lukášek, p&+345;ijít ochutnat jehn&+283;&+269;í"

It's a mild rudeness, to use the language only a few of them present know how to speak, but it also draws a firm (if otherwise invisible) line: whose home this is. Whose rules apply. What is kitchen-speak, and what is public. What is private, and perhaps a bit tender, and what is meant to be accessible to all. Even Simon, understanding the language, knows an endearment of someone's name when he hears one. That single line is Family Talk. There will not be much of it, if any more at all, during the evening.

She's grinning as she unties her apron, tossing it... anywhere, really, onto some unused portion of counterspace.

[Simon Zahradnik] Simon had offered to help Luana with things but apparently she had everything so... Well at least he could carry the wine! See how useful Full Moons can be? There was an air of pride and certainty surrounding the young man as he entered the room just behind Luana.

He saw that shoes were not allowed and naturally joined Luana in removing them though this didn't make him any smaller. He was still the relatively large imposing creature he always was.

He was wearing a black t-shirt and blue jeans and the tattoos on his arms were left in full view though partially covered up by the fact he wore sleeves tonight. He kept himself quiet as introductions were exchanged, and when Luana and Danicka were through saying their hellos he would present her with the bottle."It's umm... French... Er... I dunno... Maybe it's Spanish? Umm... It's some kinda grape! I'm not racist so I don't care if a Grape is from France or Spain but some people might!"

[Luana Kirchmann] The foods go where they're asked to go, and she leaves Danicka to the kitchen with another smile and; "You're welcome." Soon after she's swept up into introductions, looking from Lukas to Aanon, who looks as far from a Shadow Lord that she can imagine.

He gets a smile, after a quick huff at Lukas and side glance. "Austria," she corrects, though it's hard to tell with the accent anyway. A hand is extended to the dark skinned Lord, who she is looking at openly curious from her shorter height. She's a petite woman. "Good to meet you Drinkwater."

[Luana Kirchmann] Mila is not forgotten, she spied the woman while the men were talking around her and introductions were given, and for now she gets a smile and a small nod of her head in greeting. Her attention drifts immediately back to the unfamiliar face whom she's currently standing with.

[Mila Davis] Mila had just been quitely watching the interactions between them for the last few minutes. No, she didn't understand what Danicka said.. but perhaps it's time that Simon teach her. It seems as if it might be a little necessary here.

[Aanon Adolfus] Aanon accepts her hand. A scraping noise heralds from beneath his sleeve as gives her a simple shake. A bracelet? "Hola Senora" Deep were his voice, chocolate hues seemingly swallowing her whole as he took stock of her. Though as he let his hand slip from her own, he nodded only to Simon who'd he'd met before.

"We've met"

[Aanon Adolfus] [sorry, wasn't refreshing]

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Oh boy," Lukas murmurs, grin crooked. "Austria. Please forgive the insult."

He pours himself a glass of rum, then, and this alone sets the tone for this affair: casual, casual, casual. If it weren't, he'd pour for the guests first. Or perhaps Danicka would. She's stirring the pot, though, and telling him to taste the lamb, and he carries his glass over to the oven and slips on oven mitts -- silly quilted ones decorated in some cheerful color scheme or other, and opens up the oven to examine the lamb.

"It's so ready," he says. "Let's serve it before I 'taste' it all into my stomach."

[Mila Davis] Mm.. rum. Her empty wine glass was good enough to pour a little sample into. So, she took the bottle and poured a few sips before setting the bottle back down for all to partake in.

"Dinner smells wonderful.." She commented as she eyed the oven and whatever was cooking in it, or resting atop it. She was starving and the smell was making her mouth water. Good thing there was liquor to hold off the urge to dash into the kitchen to steal a piece.

[Luana Kirchmann] Unlike others, there's not an ounce of breeding in the Kinswoman. If not for Lukas stating she was one of theirs, she would be easily overlooked as just another human - helpful, no doubt. It also means she's had to earn her keep.

A glance over to where Lukas vanishes, and Mila too, before a quick glance up to Simon and back to Aanon. Since she's still standing there and he hasn't fled elsewhere she decides to stay and chat. "Where are you from?" Her question is direct, like the way she looks up at him. The tone is quieter, laced with an accent quite different to his.

[Luana Kirchmann] [brb. sorry visitor turned up.]

[Simon Zahradnik] He had already met both Anon and Lukas so he didn't need any introductions. Though all within the building would receive a nod of his head in greeting. A friendly greeting from one Shadow lord to another. Though he had hoped there were more Shadow lords than this in such a massive city. Then again less Shadow Lords means less fighting and killing one another so perhaps this was a good sign?

His attention soon enough slips back down to Luana and then back up to Aanon, curious himself as to the anser. So why not stick around and find the answer out? Normally he was a little more Vocal but he hadn't had the chance to get started. Just wait and you'll see.

[Mila Davis] Mila caught Simon's eye after a moment.. and smirked. Likely, something went unspoken between them. She lifted her glass in greeting.

[Aanon Adolfus] "San Marco, Peurto Rico. My familie has had the honor of being one of the first Castillian Lords to make the journey to the new world during the Spanish Conquest of the New World. My wife whom unfortunately were not able to attend this evening and a few members of my extended familie" Obviously more kin "...have only recently made Chicago our home."

[Danicka Musil] Her oven mitts are most certainly not silly, and the pattern is quirky chic, not 'cheerful'.

Huff.

There's a fork near the oven for Lukas to snag a sliver of lamb to taste. Danicka is taking the large pot off the burner and turning off the heat under some others. She isn't bothering to put things in serving dishes; they can eat from the pots and pans, including the one Lukas is withdrawing from the oven. "Let it sit for a minute," she cautions him, even though he's reaching for a knife.

The way she moves about her kitchen isn't exactly 'bustling' nor 'brisk', but she has some grace, some efficiency of motion, intimacy in the space. Plates and forks and knives come out, serving spoons. "I think," she says, primarily to Lukas, "if you'll get lamb on the plates people can grab their own sides, yes?"

Yes.

Sides include the small red potatoes she was cooking just a moment ago, each one missing a stripe of skin from its midsection, each one cooked in olive oil and minced garlic with rosemary, drizzled with butter. Sides include a salad Danicka puts up on the counter. Sides include some green beans with hints of lemon and cracked pepper. And of course there's the fruit that Luana brought, the cheeses to pair with the multiple wines to choose from.

Danicka whips the teacloths off the baking pans and puts the kolache in the oven as soon as the lamb is done, sidestepping out of the way of her mate and her guests while the former starts carving up the roast beast.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Welcome to Chicago then," Lukas says to Aanon over the lamb -- and the breakfast bar. He's reaching for a knife. Danicka tells him to let it sit for a while, let the juices and heat finish redistributing. He says to her, an amused aside, "I was just getting the knives ready."

Which is, in fact, what he does: getting a carving knife and fork from the block, whetting one on the other with brisk, practiced strokes. Metal rings off metal. It's always a vaguely unsettling thing when Full Moons sharpen their weapons, but for what it's worth, Lukas's intent doesn't seem to be assassination over lamb.

"I could go through the whole spiel with you," he continues, addressing Aanon again, "but Mila could probably play the herald later on, if she's still interested in the job. The basics are simple enough: until you're in a pack, I'm your acting Alpha. You should get in a pack soon, though. Don't shame the tribe and don't act like one of those snivelling shortsighted selfish Lords, and we'll get along fine. Since you have a mate already, I don't think I have to worry about you getting in trouble with the kin, but -- treat them with what respect they deserve, and if they offend you, come to me. I handle the discipline."

He turns the racks of lamb to face the same way, then, and begins slicing between the ribs in groups of four. The leg of lamb he leaves covered and foiled a little longer, letting it sit as Danicka suggested.

"Come on," he urges the others. "Grab a plate. Grab food. Eat."

[Mila Davis] Mm.. yeah - she kinda already gave Drinkwater the rundown when she first met him.. but she did direct him to Lukas for the 'offical' tribe line. "I had mentioned that he may want to consider Dark Sky.. we are short a No-moon."

She was hungry - quite hungry actually. And thus, as soon as Lukas served himself, Mila was right behind him, dishing up a plate. And once it was full, she made her way back towards the breakfast bar and stools where she sat to begin to eat.

[Simon Zahradnik] His eyes slip back to Mila and a slight smile makes its way to his lips as he returns her gaze. His attention, however, quickly shifts back to Aanon."Give us the chance we'll thrive pretty much anywhere. Detroit, Puerto Rico, Chichago... I'm pretty sure we've got some South African Family though I've never been out that way to check. Rest assured where there are assholes there are Shadow lords."He says with a little laugh."So I'd imagine we're pretty much wherever people can be found."

The smell of food teases the senses and his eyes shift from his current focus towards the the food moving across the floor by sheer force of will. It was as if he didn't even notice Danicka was carrying it he was far too focused on the meal itself. Oh how delighted his eyes looked, and if he were a little more emotional his eyes might be watering as well as his mouth.

The Sight of Lukas armed implied to Simon that he would have to earn his meal tonight! Which wasn't a huge problem... Lukas might have experience on his side but he was older reflexes would be a little slower muscles beginning to atrophy when you're that old it's amazing you can still walk. So tonight it would be experience vs. youth... Or wait... He's inviting everyone to eat? Even better!

Simon's attention shifted to Luana. He wasn't gonna leave her here all alone despite the urge to race to the table and eat all the food before anyone else got any. Besides someone had to make sure to defend the kin so that she could eat in the event they tried to keep her from it!

[Aanon Adolfus] Aanon turns, gazing now at Lukas. One hand reaching for his suit blazer. A quick nod as the elder finishes his spiel. "I apologize, but I must regretfully retire for the evening. Tis a holy night among my people. I must join them in our ceremonies.....Mila, Simon. Till soon again Si?" A definate interest in just that as he gave an eye to each. Turning then to Luana. "A pleasure Senora" Stepping back from the counter, doning his blazer, his gaze went to the host and hostess. "Whyrmbreaker-Rhya you shall have no issues from I nor mine that shall tarnish our tribal name and until I am with a pack..I shall defer to you as you say. An honor to meet you both. Thank you all...and good eve" Backing away before turning to leave.

[Simon Zahradnik] He blinks when Aanon decides to Depart."Alright take care out there and look out for umm... Monsters. Like seriously the city is boiling over with 'em... You can't walk around Mag Mile in the afternoon on a Saturday stabbing randomly about with your knife without hitting either a monster or a random person."

[Mila Davis] Mila wished Aanon a good evening and continued to eat the delicious dinner. She flicked her gaze back to Simon.. and chuckled slightly. She shook her head just a little and took another bite.

{Alright ya'll - I gotta be up in 6 hours.. must get to bed. Mila will play nice and have dinner.. and go home eventually. Night!}

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] (night!)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] A holy night, Aanon says, among my people. Lukas looks puzzled: he thought they were his people. There's no argument, though. "Take a rib," he calls -- whether or not Aanon does, he keeps carving until all are served with enough for seconds set out and ready.

"It's too bad the Krutova sisters couldn't make it tonight," he says then, loading his own plate last, picking up his rum and joining the others ... wherever they might be in the living room. "They were the ones that started this dinner party idea, and it's a good deal more pleasant than an all-out tribal moot.

"So," he sits on the couch, picking up fork and steak-knife to separate the ribs on his rack-of-lamb, "what's the story with you two?"

[Danicka Musil] Danicka, too, looks a little surprised when Aanon excuses himself. She glances at Lukas, but doesn't know the man, doesn't particularly mind one way or the other if he stays or goes. She smiles at him. "Thank you for the rum!" as he's going, and as everyone else is filling their plates. Simon's words make her cock an eyebrow, but then plates are full and she and Lukas are going to the couch to eat with rum and wine at hand.

"I think she meant to try and make it, but her schedule. And it wouldn't be much fun for Teodora on a Friday night," she adds with a twist of her lips, sitting down and sinking into the cushions.

"To which one of them are you giving the what-are-your-intentions speech?" she inquires of Lukas, as he asks Luana and Simon what their story is. She sounds more than a little wry, this time.

[Simon Zahradnik] Once he has a plate his eyes lower to the beast before him. His eyes were glazed with hunger, dripping with honey so sticky sweet, as he found himself something to drink and then a seat. He looked at first to Lukas and took the time to ponder the Question, as well as his answer, before looking back to Luana and then back to Lukas."Umm we came to the Dinner together I guess. She needed help with the shopping and I am not gonna leave a kin roaming around on a Friday evening all alone! Who knows what kinda creeps are out there right?"He smiles a little."Civic duty and all... Best we look out for one another."He adds.

"I know I'm not a galliard so I guess I'm not as good a storyteller as some. Still i can throw in some monsters and trolls if you like?"

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] That makes him laugh. So often, Lukas has a stern face: a way of speaking and regarding those around him that make others stand a little straighter; speak a little more formally. It's different when he's like this, when he's in the company of blood relatives, of good food, of his mate. Some Lords would consider that a weakness.

"I'll have you know I wasn't going to give that speech yet," he replies to Danicka. "I'm just curious. And being careful." He looks at Simon; Luana. "Chicago's got a reputation for being ... hm, a matchmaker city, let's say. You guys showed up together and I wondered."

[Danicka Musil] "'Yet'," Danicka repeats, for Luana and Simon's benefit, her eyebrows arching. She sips her wine, shaking her head at Lukas. "Such a busybody," she tsks, the sort of chiding -- however humor-driven -- that would get knuckles flying across her cheekbones from the sort of Lord Lukas is supposed to be. Is thought to be, by many. May have once been.

He snarled in her face once, thinking she was laughing at him. Mocking him. That was a long time ago, though.

[Luana Kirchmann] Food grabbed, a healthy amount that one wouldn't expect her to be able to eat, she's sitting in a spare seat with the plate balanced on her legs or settled down by the coffee table sitting on the floor - whatever works nearest to the other company.

Questions are asked about herself and Simon and she looks up, brows raised to look between Danicka and Lukas. "I don't think you need to be worried about giving that talk," she says in general. "I'm not planning on having children anytime soon." If at all. Which means, logically, she's not taking a mate. She had said as much when first meeting with Lukas.

"No offense, Bone Grinder." She flashes him a smile. "You're easy on the eyes and a proud warrior, but..." looking back to the others, bringing the fork of food towards her mouth, her eyes are gleaming, "definitely not that talk."

[Danicka Musil] "See," Danicka says to Lukas after Luana speaks up, "you're just being nosy."

She has her eyes on him as she puts a bite of lamb in her mouth, eyebrows arching. It's almost challenging, strangely enough. A little haughty. A little teasing.

[Simon Zahradnik] He was mostly eating through all of this. Young, healthy... And technically... Still growing! The full moon was delighted by the meat, it was sweet and tender and delicious. He was known to push himself a little harder than someone likely should during a work out and so it took a lot of replenishing to feed his bodies regenerative processes. Simon burned through energy like nobodies business and it was apparent that he still had a long way to go as far as filling out. Though even now he was already an impressive creature to behold.

They went about their conversation and Simon ate and ate and ate and ate. Then looked up to blink a few times."Oh yeah... Luana's not currently accepting applications for fathers so. Yeah nothing to worry about there."He says with a nod of his head."I mean even if she was I dunno if I'd be ready and all... You know kids are a bit of a responsibility right? And I am ir-responsible as hell! Nonononono! My job is to kill shit... One day when I am your age I might start thinking about leaving something behind. I mean sure I have great genes, strong, healthy, good looking so why not leave kids behind at some point. But the world isn't ready for my Progeny... Too much awesome all at once. At least let me slow down a little first."

[Simon Zahradnik] [Sorry it wasn't refreshing for me :( ]

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [EMPATHEE!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 6, 7, 7, 7 (Success x 4 at target 6)
to Danicka Musil

[Danicka Musil] The meat is, in fact, juicy and delicious. Danicka's no chef but she's got a few dishes she can cook well. This is one of them. Of course it is. It hasn't been very long but already the smell of the baking pastries in the oven is filling the apartment: that's another thing she can do quite well.

She quirks a brow at Simon. "How old are you, Simon?" she asks.

[Luana Kirchmann] Luana laughs quietly, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, fork still held in it, as Simon goes on and on. Apparently she finds him amusing and has no qualms about being open about it. It's not the laughing at him either, but with him. Her shoulders tremor briefly with the softness of the humour.

She looks between them as they talk, swallowing her mouthful and continuing to eat the food, which she really quite enjoys. The woman has a ferocious appetite and washes it down with some wine.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] They're all eating. Simon's perhaps the most buried in his food; Lukas has been working his way through his lamb, though. And his potatoes. He didn't even bother with the greens, if there was any.

No wine tonight. Rum. The stuff Aanon brought, which is quality. He's leaning back in his couch, and Danicka raises her eyebrows at him, and he considers her a moment and then -- at least there's this -- takes the time to wipe his mouth quickly before wrapping his hand behind Danicka's neck and leaning in to kiss her on the temple. Quick, but firm: the sort of display of affection he never would have permitted himself before.

Something about not flaunting her. As though she were a thing, a possession, something to snapped and growled over with his pack.

"I apologize," he says to Simon and Luana then, "if I'm prying. I suppose I'm trying to watch out for you, Luana, so I can be accountable to your cousin if necessary."

[Luana Kirchmann] Sobering a little, she looks to Lukas, eyes flicking up from her plate to regard him. "There is no need to apologize. If I get into some sort of strife, I have said that I would come to you. You have other things to keep you occupied, not fret over a Kinfolk capable of making adult decisions."

"Besides, Bone Grinder," here she throws the other Garou a quick smile, and back to Lukas again, "is entertaining company. Not some groping, sniffing dog looking to mount me from behind at whim."

"Unless you think he's a danger to me?"

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas's eyebrow quirks. "He's sitting right there," he observes lightly, and drops a stripped-clean lamb rib onto his plate. "Why don't you ask him?"

[Luana Kirchmann] "I don't have a problem with him," she answers mildly, popping another mouthful of food in.

[Simon Zahradnik] He grins a little back to her."Nineteen Ma'am... Still got a few years of growing left in me to go I'm told. I've been at this Garou thing since I was fourteen. I'd consider anyone who is old enough to kill to be an adult but by certain folks standards I am not even done growing yet."He nods his head.

"I mean I guess that's old enough to start a family but I still don't feel I am ready for that responsibility. You want me to smash or break things and I will do it... I mean your average soldier is my age right? So even among the rest of humanity I am old enough to handle pretty much anything that anyone else does."He was smiling and in many ways his persona resembled what one might think from your average young soldier. Foul mouthed, smart assed, and full of way too much energy and enthusiasm for his own damn good. After all the world was still a malleable shape-able thing in his eyes. He still had the glimmer of youth that implied the world was his to change and the thought that he still had his whole life ahead of him even if the grim realities of what he was took hold now and again.

He then chuckles a little when Luana speaks. He then turns his attention back to Lukas and he settles in his chair."I am a full moon... Which by default makes me a danger to my enemies. She doesn't look like my enemy so she's probably not in any danger!"

[Danicka Musil] Lukas grabbing her and kissing her temple seems to startled Danicka slightly. She blinks, but doesn't resist, her eyes flicking shut for a second as he presses his lips to her skin. He lets her go and she leans back again, sipping her wine. She eats more slowly than the rest of them. Smaller bites, chewed for a long time. It means that for the most part, she's a little quieter.

not some groping, sniffing dog

Her eyes move to Luana, her eyebrows drawing together slightly. Her eyes are still on Luana, but briefly skate over to Simon so she can add: "Lukáš isn't that much older than you, Simon," she says. "Not chronologically, at least. Though regardless, you're Garou; the responsibility of childrearing wouldn't exactly be on your shoulders. Protecting your mate and cubs, when necessary. But not raising them."

Danicka cuts a small potato in half. "Not," she goes on, "that I'm suggesting you should take a mate and start breeding. If you aren't ready, you aren't ready." Before she puts the bite to her mouth she looks at Luana again: "I'm glad you were able to come, but I'd appreciate it if you were a little less graphic at dinnertime." Her smile is thin, and twisting with wryness. "The imagery of my guests humping each other is more dessert talk."

[Jesmond Krutova] Indeed, she had intended on attending the dinner party.

And being on time, too. And, probably, not showing up at Ms Musil's apartment in her uniform with tired eyes and dark hair escaping the confines of its bun. She hadn't come empty handed, however. There was a Tupperware container under one of her arms with a particular potato dish requested from the hostess herself. It wouldn't be quite the same as if it were being served steaming on a plate with the rest of the meal; but it would make for inviting lunches.

A departing gentleman is nice enough to hold the door for Nurse Krutova as she steps toward one of the intercom bells and she gratefully swoops into the building; fussing helplessly at her creased uniform and her hair. She tucks several strands behind an ear, and catching sight of her name-tag, unclips it and hides it in a pocket.

There's a polite knock on the door, when she finds the corresponding number and when it swings open; the pretty Kinswoman is bashful, her voice apologetic. "I'm very sorry I'm so late, there was an emergency and I could not leave."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "I'll get it," Lukas says at the knock on the door. "Need more lamb anyway." And then he's opening the door, and it's Nurse Krutova, and the Ahroun's face brightens. "Jesmond. I was just telling the others that these dinner parties were really your idea. Come on in, get some food. Lamb over here, sides over there. I'm just going to bring these stewed potatoes into the living room so everyone can have some.

"You've met everyone here, I think. You missed the new guy, Aanon; he had to duck out early."

[heads up folks -- i should head to bed in 30 min or so! alas, gotta work tomorrow]

[Danicka Musil] Danicka looks a little bewildered when there's a knock at the door, because she didn't hear the intercom go off. Maybe a neighbor. But they're not being loud. They're not even playing music, and Mila's excused herself after eating already. She puts her wineglass down as Lukas goes to the door, and when she sees who it is she gets up, heading that direction as well. Then, the apartment is gifted with a near-squeal:

"Jesmond!"

Danicka takes the container and hugs the older woman, beaming. "Come in. Come get a drink; someone brought a case of rum and we have something like three bottles of wine."

And the kolache are baking. And the lamb and potatoes and green beans are still hot and the salad is still crisp. She doesn't so much as flick an eye at Jesmond's uniform.

[Luana Kirchmann] "You're right," she had said to Danicka, "I apologize. That is why I bought the strawberries for after all." There's not much said after since someone knocked at the door. She finishes what is on her plate and sets the cutlery aside on the dish. A napkin is used to wipe her mouth as she glances over to the new arrival, and then over to where Simon is sitting quietly.

[Jesmond Krutova] Jesmond was a modest creature, for all that she was slim and lovely, with fair skin and intelligent eyes. She carried herself with a air that suggested she was competent enough in what she could accomplish, but did not need or look for chances to boast of her successes; nor dwell long on her failures.

Her dark hair said much of her breeding, and the relative pleasure she took in being welcomed warmly by both her tribal Alpha and his mate said she was no stranger to the swell of Rage thriving around her. She surrenders her container to the Ahroun, and accepts an embrace from the younger Kinswoman hostess, her smile blossoming.

"Thank you, hello everyone," there's a general greeting and sweep of a smile and she's eying off the food. "Oh my, Danicka you've set me to shame, look at all this food. It's a pity I couldn't bring Teodora, she'd have had thirds and fourths. I don't know where she stores it, though. She's like a beanpole."

[Danicka Musil] [i may be around a little longer, too, but i'm pretty exhausted. so we should wrap up soonish. sorry, jacqui!]

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "She works it off again," Lukas quips, sinking easily back into his spot on the couch, "by bullying unsuspecting Garou around. Luana, you've met Jesmond, right? She's a nurse."

Obviously.

[Jesmond Krutova] [aw, save your sorry! it's all good! i just wanted to have jezzy show her face :] ]

[Luana Kirchmann] Unfolding from where she's sitting, she stands up and brushes down her dress, smiling over at Jesmond. "We have, at the brotherhood," she confirms to Lukas.

"It's good to see you again Jesmond."

Picking up her plate from where she had been sitting at the coffee table, the napkin is swept up and placed on the empty surface to carry it in towards the kitchen. Her empty wine glass is picked up as well, taken along with her.

[Luana Kirchmann] [and since everyone else is bailing, I'm going to do the same and start some dinner. Thanks for the play.]

[Jesmond Krutova] Jesmond's eyes crinkle at the corners.

"I do believe you're right, Lukas. Much to my horror, she's always been so. She tried that on my mate once when she was twelve, too. Eirik was hardly amused, and she hid behind my legs the rest of her visit."

Luana greets her, and Jesmond extends a hand, presses it over the other woman's briefly. "And you."

[Simon Zahradnik] Lamb... So much Lamb. He was going to suffer a lamb overdose at this rate. How much lamb can one man eat in one night? By the looks of it they were going to find out. Simon ate, quite literally, like a pro football player just after practice. Indeed the things he put himself through would easily rival the workout of any professional athlete. His eyes drit between Danicka and Luana at the mention of guests and humping. This put a smile on his face after all he didn't seem offended with the thought or image at all.

When Jesmond finally showed up he gave a smile and a wave of his hand. Though he was quick to return to his meal. Fiery eyes focused on the meal. If ever in his life he might actually claim to love anything ever in his brief existence it would have to be this delicious meal. If you could marry such a divine creation he would be the first to do just that. Unfortunately it would be a short lived honeymoon as his wife would soon find herself in his belly before the ceremonies were over!

"We need a galliard to tell stories about the tribe during these meetings. You know so we can bond and relate with the history of our people and all that."He says with a smile and a nod of his head."Ancient heroes who chose to stand against evil in all its forms. Daring to make harsh decisions that others lacked the strength and convictions to follow through with."He grins a little."I once heard this story about this Shadow Lord who was so awesome he Danced the spiral just to show the Wyrm how awesome he was."He nods his head."The end of the story isn't so cool but if you don't tell the ending it's an awesome story right? Like... Screw you Wyrm I'm better than you!"

[Danicka Musil] "Oh, leave it," Danicka tells Luana. "I'll clean up."

She's smiling as Lukas goes back to the couch, but her attention is on Jesmond. "You should come over sometime, just for coffee or something. What's this about Teodora bullying Ga--"

Simon stops stuffing his face long enough to speak, and Danicka blinks at him. "This isn't a meeting. Or a moot. It's dinner. And frankly, the last thing I want to hear about while I'm eating are tales of war and idiotic, bullshit heroism."

That word sounds so odd, coming from her: bullshit. Such a soft looking mouth in that sharp jaw, such a harsh word from such a rather tender face.

Quieter, then: "I'm sorry if I'm snapping at you. But I don't find stories like that funny."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas huffs a laugh. "I'd be more appalled and disapproving if it weren't for the fact that grown Garou are letting themselves be intimidated by a teenage girl," he says t Jesmond. "At that point, it's their problem, not mine. Still," he helps himself to a healthy portion of Jesmond's potatoes, "you should tell her not to bite off more than she can chew. Not all Garou take humiliation well."

[Jesmond Krutova] Jesmond takes a small serving of almost everything and perches herself at a vacated seat, carefully slicing into her meal. Her hands are nimble which is no great shock given her line of work. They must be adept little digits for what she does day in, day out. For the children she has helped birth and the mothers whose bedside's she has tended.

She slips a piece of food into her mouth as Danicka speaks to Simon, and her cat green eyes (so easily mistaken for a darker shade of blue) glance between them. She swallows, and reaches for a glass of wine, sips from it to cleanse her palate. "I should come over, I don't socialize nearly as much as I once did. I suppose that I found with Eirik gone and Ari so far away," there's a pause; the brief skittering of still-held guilt.

"I just sort of slipped out of the habit of friends, and tribe."

She looks across at Lukas. "Teodora on the other hand, loves her tribe, she just mistakes her forwardness as bravery. I imagine if she'd been born true, she'd be quite fearsome."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "It is a sort of bravery, I think," Lukas says. "And more importantly, cunning. I think Teodora knows better than anyone who and what she can get away with bullying, and so she does. She's a Shadow Lord, after all." His smile is equal parts wry and genuine. "We can smell weakness.

"So, yeah. I think she would have been quite the terror were she trueborn."

Lukas is done eating. He sets his plate down, cleaned out, and leans back in the couch. He's comfortable now, pleasantly full, warm from rum. The apartment is filling with the scent of kolaches, which is arguably his favorite snack ever. He yawns: lazily, jawcrackingly, only making a perfunctory effort to cover his mouth. Then he crosses one ankle over the opposite knee, laying his arms out along the top of the couch.

"You should bring her along," he adds, "if you come visit Dani&+269;ka sometime."

[that's probably my last post tonight! thanks for the RP, folks :D i'll stick around for a few more min and then it's bedtime for me!]

[Simon Zahradnik] There were many things that Simon tolerated. In fact you could likely stab him in the stomach and he would keep smiling. He was just that kinda guy... He always found something to laugh about. It was either that or become twisted and jaded with the darkness one witnesses on a daily basis. He smiled a lot more than most Ahrouns, and often times lacked that serious formality. However one word was all that it took to wipe the smile clean off his face. His eyes met Danicka's own and there was a sharpness to that gaze that implied every second she was, in fact, speaking to a Shadow lord.

Then his lips quirked a little, a smirk, something far less pleasant appeared on his face."I like that... You know calling the deeds and actions of our people and your people bullshit. The way we throw ourselves like idiots into battle with you know wacky crazy monsters all because it seems like the cool thing to do at the time. It's funny..."He gives a soft little laugh."Cause somewhere out there right this very second there is an innocent man or woman screaming in the darkness wishing that some bullshit hero would whisk in and help her out. But you know all the bullshit heroes are here at your place having dinner."He says this all with a little grin on his face though his eyes, and tone speak with all the venom of a man who was somewhat offended."No don't worry it's fine. We don't really do much that's worth any note or mention or anything. Buncha idiotic, bullshit heroes doing a buncha idiotic, bullshit things."He settles back and chuckles a little then pats his stomach.

"Whew I am stuffed."He says."I really should be going. Thanks for the meal. Where do you want this plate?"He asks as he stands.

[Jesmond Krutova] Jesmond looks up at Simon, her expression neutral.

"I don't think she meant to offend the heroism of what you both," a glance spared Lukas, back, placid as a lake her tone, "do for us, our children and the world. I believe she just wishes to conserve the atmosphere of a dinner table. Sometimes 'work' ought to be left at the door with our shoes."

She smiles at Danicka. "Or so I think."

[Danicka Musil] Danicka doesn't bat an eyelash at Simon. She's happy to have Jesmond here. She wants to sit with her and have kolache and after-dinner coffee and lounge on the couch with her mate. Perhaps in a little while that's what they'll do, the three of them. She'll introduce Jesmond to her cat. But the night's already winding down. One by one the guests have trickled out, some of them not even staying for food. And now Simon has her attention.

It says something profound about how Danicka has changed that she gets looked at Like That by an Ahroun of the tribe and she doesn't duck her head, round her shoulders, and demure. Jesmond speaks up, and Danicka puts up a hand, shaking her head slightly before Jesmond can finish the soothing words. Her eyes are on the Ahroun. Maybe it's easier for her to do this with Lukas there, but still:

she's breathing more carefully, her heart rate so elevated it's almost audible, and she lets him finish. "Simon," she says levelly, and quietly, "a Garou of my tribe dancing the spiral because he thinks that will prove something would only be giving evidence that he's an idiot, and that his heroism is bullshit. I call it that because I know the end of that story is that the Wyrm would have yet another of our warriors who thought himself too badass to be corrupted, or just thought it was 'the cool thing to do at the time'. And that would be idiotic. And that wouldn't be funny.

"If you take from what I said that I think the actual fighting of the war, as opposed to the arrogant flaunting one's so-called bravery, is bullshit? Then you're an idiot, too, and more of one because you have no comprehension of who you are speaking to, or what I know of true Shadow Lord heroes."

A beat. Her voice hardens a bit. "Go to one of the Galliards and ask them for a tale of Night Warder, Summit's Lightning, Ender of Names, Breaks the Sky, Elder Ahroun of Thunder, who died when I was fourteen. Then ask yourself if I might just know a thing or two about the deeds of our people, and what is bullshit, and what is not."

Danicka takes a breath. "Put your plate down where you are and get out of my apartment."

[Danicka Musil] [agh, sorry for the wait! :\ i really need to sleep, too]

[Jesmond Krutova] [np! thanks for letting me pop my head in. :) ]

[Simon Zahradnik] The plate is placed where it is and he stands fast. Somewhere in there his attention would turn towards Lukas. Then finally back to Danicka."Good evening..."He finally says with a bow of his head and even more venom in his voice. Words were not something he could speak or deal with right now. There was only violence swimming in his head and his eyes. Only fiery bloodthirsty anger. Indeed the words he would speak would have been spoken before his elder, and to his mate. Rather than do so the only option left was simply to leave.

It only takes him a few seconds to make his way to the door and exit the room and soon enough the building.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

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.
 
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