just another night.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] -- and the channel 4 weather report (cold, cold, and oh look, more cold) is interrupted by the noise of someone coming up the hardwood stairs in heels.

"Uh oh," Lukas' voice floats out from the sonorous confines of the bathroom: an amused, wholly unconcerned sort of drawl, "sounds like someone had a bad date."

They can just see him through the half-open door: leaning forward over the utilitarian sink, scraping the straight razor over his tilted cheek, then reaching down to rinse it free of lather and whiskers before starting the next stroke. This one runs along the trickier line of the jaw, and he doesn't speak at all until he's done and rinsing the razor again.

"It's why I do it," he replies. Turning from the mirror now: a crooked grin to show he's joking, aimed at Mrena through the door. She can see the reflection of his half-shaven cheek, all white foam and olive skin -- it gives a faint picassoesque effect, to see him both in profile and straight-on at once. "Keeps me sharp."

[Nessa] Her head comes through, and even thuogh Mrena is there, the kin still looks around suspiciously. Only when a certain presence is obviously absent-- hell, she even sniffs, for THAT one, even a kinfolk can smell at ten paces-- does the Russian woman slip into the room, still silent. Jeans, high tops, a warm jacket on.
She smiles, still saying nothing, and the reason for her visit is clear. Mrena's clothing, folded neatly in her hands, awaits returning. As she walks over to hand it to the artist, damned if the kin doesn't look back behind her suspiciously. ANY MINUTE he might show up.
As her head turns back towards her tribesmate, she catches sight of something else in the open bathroom door.
Nessa blinks.

[Armstrong] "Have I told you recently how incredibly irritating humans are?" Not people. Not kinfolk. Humans. She had a rant for all of them; for being as social as she was, Mrena didn't seem to particularly like a lot of people. "More importantly, it was a four thousand dollar deal. Four thousand. You don't spend ridiculous amounts of money to stare at my non-existent cleavage to not look through my portfolio."

a beat.

"There's a resturaunt called Mercat a la Planxa though that's really prety good though, so it wasn't an entirely fruitless endeavor." read: he picked up the tab and I was malicious enough to order something ridiculousy expensive.

She then looked at the clothes and then at Nessa. She nodded a little and accepted them. Mrena leaned over and put them on the chair arm.

"Staying long?"

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Rather unsympathetically, Lukas snorts. "I don't know why you bother with portfolios and human commerce." Another swish of the razor in the sink; then he tilts his head the other way to start in on the opposite side of his face. "Get Edward to hire you an agent; make him sell your wares. There are more important things to attend to."

And an addendum: "Evening, Nessa."

[Armstrong] "You bring up a valid point," she said. And then, a nod. She'd get on that in the morning. Mrena didn't particularly like humans, she didn't really like getting up and fixing her hair, so why not pay someone (read: have Edward pay someone) to deal with it.

There's something in the umbra down in that part of town that requires some attention. And that came across because.. well, it wasn't something Nessa needed to hear. For packmates only, it seemed. It's a nyst. From what I've gathered, it's like an egg sack for something that wouldn't normally occur in this environmnet. This one, in particular, is not of Gaia. If it hatches, this could be rather problematic.

[Nessa] "I need to work tonight." Read, she doesn't know.
However...
Nessa walks over to the bathroom where Lukas is shaving. She can hear the scrape of the blade against werewolf stubble. Her own footsteps are quiet, though probably not enough to totally avoid garou hearing.
They have a conversation which doesn't concern her. Well, not overly at least. Not yet. Instead, holding her hands slightly away from her body, she asks him, in a perfectly reasonable tone of voice, "May I borrow towel, Lucas?"

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] You should run a foray down there sometime, then. See if Sam will be free anytime soon. I'd feel better if he were with you. There's the matter of the fomori nest down in Cabrini as well.

Nessa steps into the bathroom -- and while Lukas is the one who left the door open, he nonetheless looks a little nonplussed as Nessa comes in. The blade stops for a moment. He quirks an eyebrow at her, then rinses and starts again, tipping his head back to shave under his chin.

"There are plenty of towels in the women's restroom, Nessa. Or did you need some particular towel?"

[Armstrong] That's why I'm telling you, I wanted to see if you wanted to come. I know Sam would jump on the opportunity, but I have a feeling that this isn't a two-person endeavor. As for Cabrini, any news? Do you need help finding the word on the street, any requests? New developments?

It was true, one could probably say 'Sam! Look! The wyrm!' And he would go and fight tooth-and-nail against it until only one was left standing. And then, it was off to plan some more.

And Nessa was asking for towels, she let a slight smile cross her face and she went to look at the news. Yep, chicago was going to be freezing for the next few days. White Eyes couldn't help but enjoy that.

[Armstrong] (brb, fooooood)

[Nessa] Not so much in, as at the door. She wouldn't be so rude as all that. Just.. a hair short.. just a tiny little hair maybe, though. The wild thing inside her breathes in and out of her lungs, pressing the limits. Again.
"Just any towel within any reach is fine."
Damned if she doesn't seem serious as sin.

As for the women's bathroom, she isn't in there either. And her hands are oily right here, right now, wich is obviously a fairly urgent situation.

[Nessa] (Within reach)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Of course -- if I'm free, is his reply to whether or not he wanted to come. Make a call on the totemwire when you're about to set out for this nyst of yours.

And for Cabrini: It's been quiet, but it still stinks of the wyrm. We could use some healing talens, as well as some offensive talens. Long-range would be nice, in case they decide to hide behind a big guy again. I think we'll go in and eradicate them once and for all sometime this week.

Nessa's request for a towel draws a brief, faintly irritated glance from Lukas. Even reflected in the mirror, his eyes are cold and blue. He finishes his present stroke of the razor, rinses it in the sink, then twists about to snap a towel off the rack and hand it to the kinwoman.

"What is that all over your hands? You didn't get it on Mrena's clothes, did you?" He picks up the razor again and finishes what he's doing -- three more scrapes of the razor, and then he turns the tap on, splashing cold water over his freshly shaven face, toweling dry, cleaning the razor off carefully and drying that as well before folding it away.

[Armstrong] (back!)

[Armstrong] I'll be sure to keep you informed, came across the link loud and clear. She paused for a moment, then listened to the requests. Nothing unreasonable. Just... time-consuming. Luckily, she was the type who seemed to have all the time in the world. It will get done. Any word on what Katerina's finished?

Mmn. It didn't come across in her tone, but it did come across other ways. They were both aware that White Eyes had quite the opinion of the other theurge, for whatever that was worth. But, she was a capable healer, and that she did not waver on.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Last I heard she was going to be making some healing talens. You'll probably want to check with her yourself.

[Nessa] No game here. She doesn't shy from his eyes, but as he chooses not to play, Nessa turns her attention to other things, wiping her hands on the proferred cloth, handing it back.
"Oil. Of course not, Lukas."
Turning away, she goes to sit again in the chair from the previous night, casting a wary eye at the door before sinking into place, again, in lotus position. Nessa arches her back a little to stretch it, facing away from Sir Spoilsport.
Fenrir, now, THEY would have played. Buggers whip their clothes off for the least little thing.
Her attention turns to different prey, something the woman herself had suggested. "Who handles your art sales, Mrena?" For it didnt seem that the theurge was deep in conversation.

[Armstrong] "At the moment? I do. However, Lukas brought up a fairly decent point and I may have to corner Edward sometime soon and ask him for an agent. It would be a nice birthday present, I think."

Then again, Mrena didn't really do her birthday with the pack. Or anone. By and large, the April Fools Girl avoided all contact with others [particularly ragabashes] on her birthday. That, of course, was neither here nor there. And not important.

I'll check with her next time I see her, which will be very soon. A degree of certainty.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Oil. He's not even going to ask. When she offers the towel back, he nods it toward the dirty laundry pile. Lukas is very clear on what his duties as a Garou were, and taking care of dirty laundry was not amongst them.

While the women conversed about art sales or something of the sort, Lukas packs up his shaving paraphernalia and heads back into his room. They can hear him thump around in there for a while. Then he comes out in his usual gear: jeans, a button-up casual, all of it subtly expensive, designer-labeled, probably worth more than most people's daily salaries.

"So why, might I ask," we lied, he does ask after all, "was there oil all over your hands?"

[Nessa] waving a hand behind her at the door to the stairs, she indicates where. "Squeaky hinge."
"I see, Mrena. Where are your records of sales? May I look through them?" A slow, spreading smile, one conspirator to another, just for Mrena.
For, she must know who has purchased them, in order to acquire the paintings.
"I met another Shadowlord in town. Zeke. He is not talkative."
Maybe she should explain to the new Fenrir kin in town that its really a tradition that they are to remove at least half their clothing on a regular basis.
Nessa glances back to Lukas's reappearance and pauses. Inspects a little closer. "Nice clothes."
Then her head turns back to Mrena for the lady's answer.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Zeke?" This piques Lukas' attention -- pauses him on the way to the stairs, doubtlessly to find some breakfast. "Does he have a last name, a deedname?"

[Armstrong] She looked at Nessa and she noticed that smile. It made her smile back, something that was just a little too friendly, a little too pretty, a little too perfect to be genuine.

"Of course, you'd be able to tell me if I'm getting a fair price or not," she said. That, of course, was not what she meant. She meant that, whatever Nessa was planning, she was game for.

She stood up and made her way to her room. And off to get another one of her books. Oddly enough, the theurge kept impeccable records. Now, it was only a matter of finding it in the suitcare full of You Don't Want To Know.

She kept her door open, listening to the conversation in the room adjacent. Host-of-traitors. Ragabash.

[Nessa] She shakes her head. "He didn't mention it to me. But he was garou. Apparently, he had just let Mrena out of his car, only Gabriella inside. He said there was some sort of danger, took us up. We waited little while for Mrena to return, and when she did not, he brought us back here."
Nessa beams at Mrena, who LIKES to PLAY.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Nice name, Lukas comments, wry at best. Doesn't play up to tribal stereotypes at all.

And aloud, "And what was this great and terrible 'danger' he was so concerned about?"

[Nessa] She looks towards Mrena for the answer, shakes her head. "I've no idea." Nessa takes out a blade from her ankle sheath, checks the edge absently.
Da. Still good. That one goes back in, and she checks the others.

[Armstrong] It was interesting, we got all the way up to introductions and when my tribe came out he took it like a sucker punch. It was odd... well, not too odd.

She came back out with her ledger. The book was surprisingly well taken care of. Logs taken, prices recorded, locations sold. Most, of course, were in Boston. a few pieces shipped to New York City, Los Angeles, a gallery in Santa Fe. The Chicago entries were the most recent, obviously. She's done some decent business since she's been here, but aparently only little things.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] A faint snort. "Bizarre," is Lukas' final assessment -- a reply to both totemic and audible conversation as the Ahroun descends the stairs to go to breakfast.

(gotta take off folks! might be back later tonight :D thanks for the play!)

[Nessa] (Night!)

[Armstrong] (peace out mister!)

[Nessa] Nessa stands to accept the ledge and sits back down, pulls a little hand held computer devicy thing. Thumbing through it, she notes prices, locations. Frowns. "Most of these were sold out of state from here. That is some distance."