dashboard confessional.

[Armstrong] She had transitioned to the front seat of the vehicle; it was a little awkward for her to sit in the back and talk. Or, at the very least, the view was different from the back than the front. For her part, she preferred the view from the front seat. The theurge had buckled up, sat with her hands in her lap and...

It was in the quiet moments in the front that she realized something, or rather, she realized two somethings.

The first being that she seemed to be the only person in Chicago who had yet to learn how to drive. The second being that she seemed to be the only monolingual person in Chicago. Of course, this wasn't the case. It wasn't that Mrena was monolingual, she spoke a language whose poetry said more than man's written verse.

That was neither here nor there. But the theurge's lack of expertise in human tongues left her curious. So, when Lukas got back into the car, she wore her default expression of curiosity.

"What errands do you have to run?"

[Lukas] (sorry folks, was on the phone)

[Lukas] (no AIM?)
to liar

[liar] (invisible on aim. *L* I'm watching something online with Jamie but I wanted to go ahead and log in here to lurk)
to Lukas

[Lukas] It's quite different, having Mrena in the passenger's seat rather than Danicka: more familiar, less charged. He's aware of where the Theurge is, what she's doing, without needing to look at her. Without needing to even think about her.

"Hm?" -- a half-distracted sound as he's turning out onto Lakeshore Drive. "Nothing important. Post office and bank."

Lukas slips into traffic behind a big SUV, the likes of which were back on the roads now that gas prices were reasonable again. There's a quiet for a while; he doesn't elaborate on his errands. They're not foremost on his mind, though he is, in fact, headed for the post office.

"Listen," he says finally, "back there... thanks for not taking it personally."

[Armstrong] "I make her nervous," she said. Stated. He knew that Mrena was not an empathetic creature, but Lukas was well aware of how perceptive she was. The theurge spent a great deal of time observing; she picked up on things. Lukas didn't need to look at her to talk to her. He didn't have to look to knmow what she was doing, and Mrena didn't have to really even observe Lukas to know whatever it was that he was doing.

They were headed to the post office; Armstrong knew how to get there so she didn't really need to look out the window.

There was a pause, a thought. He thanked her for not taking it personally, and she nodded. "I didn't interrupt anything, did I?"

[Lukas] I make her nervous. Lukas smiles a little at this, aslant. "Well, there was that interrogation that one time at the Brotherhood. I might walk gingerly after something like that, myself." It's a rather gentle quip, insofar as Lukas can be gentle on the night of a full moon. At the least, there's no underlying resentment in his tone. "But in any case, thanks for -- y'know. Not being a bitch about it. I should've known better than to suggest it."

Then Mrena wants to know if she was interrupting. Lukas takes his eyes from the road long enough to give her a look. "No," he replies. "You're my packmate."

As if that said it all.

Then another pause, with the Ahroun frowning through the windshield, thoughts turning behind his eyes. He remembers another drive like this, just he and Mrena, coming back from Andrea's lake house. Curious; Lukas is far from a womanizer, far from a man to whom the company of women meant a great deal, but that conversation had been about women too.

"Can I ask you something? An honest question for an honest answer?"

This, at a red light, idling behind a dark red Toyota Camry. The stopped traffic affords Lukas the chance to turn and look directly at Mrena. The Circle was a myriad pack, many different auspices and tribes, but they were united -- by coincidence -- by their almost-uniformly pale eyes. Mrena's are the palest of all, a gray so light they seemed to have no color at all.

"What do you -- and the pack -- think of Danička?"

[Armstrong] (may as well roll it, I haven't rolled dice today!)
to Lukas

[Armstrong] Lukas referenced the makeshift interrogation. Mrena remembered it, might have interpretted Danicka's reactions for something completely different than what they were meant for. There was compliance when they had... well, it wasn't exactly speaking. It was more a relatively petite theurge letting loose some part of herself that she didn't reveal too often. Mrena had spoken to the woman with a tight grip on her words. All carefully chosen and executed.

She had not thought Danicka would become a fixture.

And now, some time down the road, Mrena had been proven wrong. Lukas had asked her the pack's opinion of Danicka, because he had asked if he could ask an honest question. Looked for Mrena's honest answer; and for her part she really did seem to think about it. The theurge tried to focus, tried to come up with that honest answer and pulling up what she knew as well.

What did the pack think of Danicka?

"She didn't make the best first impression," she said. "And the rest of the pack hasn't had too many opportunities to... well... meet her. I would say Sam's opinion of her is complicated, Sampson's is not too favorable but... well, his opinion gets buried in words. I'd say the pack's opinion of her is largely colored by hearsay and rumor."

But he had asked her opinion of Danicka as well.

"With most of the pack, she's got an up hill battle. I probably didn't help much with that," what with the makeshift interrogation and all.

[Lukas] There's a guardedness in the answer that makes Lukas smile and wince at once. Traffic's moving again -- he turns his attention forward.

"That doesn't really answer my question at all, does it? I'm not asking you whether the pack's opinions are complicated or formed or reasonable; any of that." A glance, brief by necessity. "I'm asking you what you and the pack think of her, and why. And don't try to spare my feelings, White-Eyes. It's appreciated, but unnecessary."

[Armstrong] "They, on the whole, don't seem to like her," she said. Sparing his feelings was appreciated, yes, but unnecessary. because that wasn't what he was looking for. And that's not what he'd asked her to do. "The way the pack seems to see her is like this: she used Sam to get what she wanted. And the fact that you and Danicka are an item of sorts doesn't seem to set well with them on a certain level."

There was a pause, and then?

"And for my part, I don't know what to think of her. The way things..." she was looking for words, and then the theurge just continued on. "She's very good at hiding. And on some level I admire that, because it would be stupid for her to lay herself out there for everyone to see and pick apart."

There was a pause again. Another hitch, as if something had dawned on her. Or, rather, that it was her turn to ask something sincere and honest and seek those honest answers.

"What does she mean to you?"

Not accusatory, not condescending, not anything invasive. Just... a question.

[Lukas] "So in brief," Lukas distills all that Mrena's said down to this, "the prevalent opinion is that Danička's a manipulator and a liar. Is that about it?" A short, scoffing exhale. "Well, that is at least half true."

A beat.

"I will say this much, though. I am thoroughly sick and tired of the whole damn pack making Sam out to be some sort of victim in this situation. He was not used. She never needed to use him. Her casting him off had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the idiotic things he did to drive her away. He got away with shit I would have never excused if he weren't my packmate."

When Lukas is done with that sudden, quiet tirade, the air in the MKZ is raw with his anger, and likely Mrena -- or Lukas, or both -- are beginning to wonder at the wisdom of a conversation like this on a full moon. Another red light: the Ahroun brakes, then takes his hand off the wheel and pinches the bridge of his nose for a second.

"I didn't mean to lose my temper," he says then, low. "I didn't ask you this so I could refute it all, or argue with you. I'm asking because my shutting down all discussion of my private life weeks ago seemed to only force such discussions to occur behind my back rather than to my face. And I'd like to at least know what's being said or thought."

Mrena asks a question in return, then. Lukas has to think a moment before he answers. "She means more than I thought she would." And another moment passes, and then a truer answer: "She means a lot.

"Does that matter?"

[Armstrong] "It's convenient to think of Sam as a victim. Makes it easier," she said. And she said it a lot softer than she had originally intended though. A lot quieter than she had thought it came out, but the theurge moved past this and on to more content of the conversation.

They both sat in the car for a moment, anger boiling in the air and, yes, she did wonder about the wisdom found in the timing of this situation. Then again, if they had to tiptoe around Lukas' moon, there was a problem. If she had to stifle conversation and spare him the harsher realities, what kind of packmate was Mrena?

He said he didn't mean to lose his temper, and for her part she didn't seem phased. "Realistically, your personal life shouldn't matter unless it comes between you and your duties. Just like Katherine should have larger things to worry about than her little sister's sexlife," she said.

Lukas couldn't help but catch the tinge of irritation. Something that had burned brightly once but now just glowed as a dull ember of frustration. She pushed it aside, under some dirt and gave the thought no air. No room to breathe, and eventually the fire would die out. Mrena's frustration would soon enough be discarded like the dull cliche that was used to describe it.

Frustration discarded, she continued. "As that your personal life is not coloring your actions, and you're not in any immediate danger because of it, I see no reason for it to matter."

In short: good on you, Lukas. I respect that you kept your private life private. Boo on other people.

Then, he was silent, and Mrena was silent... she knew he would answer. Even if the answer was I don't want to talk about it or I don't know, she knew that he would answer. She straightened up slightly, and he gave her the answer. She means a lot. Does that matter?

"It does matter," she said. "It matters to me, at least."

[Lukas] It's on the tip of Lukas's tongue to say, Yeah well, the same Katherine that slammed us all into a room to discuss her baby sister's sex life also thinks --

-- but he doesn't. He has a little more courtesy, and a little more self-respect, than that.

A tick or two of silence. Then he turns to look at her as Mrena answer; after a beat, the edge of his mouth curls faintly up.

"Well. Thanks for that too, I suppose."

The light changes. He goes on. Downtown is stop and go on a Wednesday afternoon, especially as rush hour starts to hit. Even with the lights green this block is stopped dead, and Lukas leans his left elbow on the doorframe, rakes his fingers distractedly through his hair.

"It's convenient, too, to think of Danička as a liar that lies to manipulate." He arcs back to an earlier point in the conversation without preamble. "That's what I assumed at the beginning -- that she was playing some sort of dangerous-liaisons game. Then I thought she lied to save her own skin; except then one night I caught her in a lie and told her flat-out I would make life very unpleasant for her if she dared to lie to me again.

"And you know what she did? She lied to me. In the next breath."

Traffic is moving again -- a light somewhere farther ahead must've turned green. Lukas takes his foot off the brake and eases the Lincoln forward, mostly under power of the idling automatic transmission.

"Now I think maybe Danička lies because it's all she knows. It comes as naturally to her as telling the truth does to me."

A pause -- a flickering grimace, there and then gone.

"It's fucked up," he says; of Danicka, or himself, or the two of them, or the situation; all of it. "But it does mean something to me."

[Armstrong] Maybe Danicka lied because it was all that she knew. It came as easily as telling the truth did to Lukas; it was convenient to think of Danicka as one who lied to manipulate. It was easier; on the whole, people plugged in their own reasons for a behavior when they did not understand someone else's. Thinking Danicka lied to manipulate was similar to trying to apply English grammatical rules to the Japanese language. They weren't structured the same. They weren't the same thing. But when something was not easily explained, we use the rules that we know and try to make the unknown conform to them.

Mrena understood the unexplained, so hearing this from Lukas made sense to Mrena. Danicka did not play by the same rules other kinfolk did. Maybe she lied because it was the only thing that she knew.

She wouldn't think on it for too long.

It's fucked up, yes, but it meant something to him.

She nodded, and kept her mouth shut.

[Lukas] "Anyway," the tone is dismissive; Lukas has reached the end of his confessional tether. The truth is the Ahroun is fiercely protective of his privacy. This conversation simply would not have happened if it had been someone else in the passenger's seat. Sam, certainly. Kate. Sampson. Perhaps even Ed.

"I meant to ask you." This is a subject change. "The Ragabash, Zeke, mentioned he'd approached you about joining the Goblin pack. Why didn't you tell me?"

The tone is -- for now, anyway -- only curious.

[Armstrong] "Because I told him I wasn't on the market to be courted. It wasn't something I'd expressed interest in, and honestly until he'd approached me about it I had no idea he'd had any thoughts about wanting me in his pack."

She thought about this, briefly, how she was going to say it, what she was going to put together. Zeke had mentioned it to Lukas that he'd talked to Mrena about... jumping ship. Was that the correct term? "I didn't tell you because I wasn't sure how to really talk to you about it. It's... odd. It's like... Has that ever happened to you?"

[Lukas] "Not unless you count how he mentioned he'd originally planned to ask me to go as well," Lukas replies. "Because he thought we had enough Theurges and Ahrouns, and the Goblins had too few, he said.

"It is odd. I suppose the bonds of the Circle as so tight that I can't imagine frivolously forming or breaking pack bonds for the sake of math. Then again, I can't imagine being a pack merely for sake of convenience, either -- which is essentially how he spoke of his."

There's a pause.

"That said, I do wish you'd told me. Or Ed, or Kate, or... someone. I wish I hadn't had to hear it from a No-Moon I'd only really just met."

[Armstrong] "Others don't have the same priorities that we do," she said. Stated. As if this made it all make sense, maybe even made it clear why she'd said no, or hadn't thought of leaving her pack. It was no matter, Mrena was back to thinking. And listening.

That said, he wishes that she had told him.

"I'm sorry, then. That I didn't tell you, because I should have," she said. The implication was there: it wouldn't happen again.

There was a lull for a moment, and then? "You know, I worry about dissapointing you sometimes."

[Lukas] This draws a glance from Lukas even though the car is moving; even though the traffic is prone to sudden stoppage. It's brief but clear, a flick of his pale eyes. Then he returns his attention to the road.

"Why?"

[Armstrong] "Because you are everything that I think our tribe is, and everything that it can be."

And then? Silence. She and Andrea had discussed this before; he didn't know how rare he was.

[Lukas] A second glance, as quick as the first, a little longer-lived. Lukas is frowning when he turns forward again, and even Mrena, who isn't the most empathic of people, can tell this makes him distinctly uncomfortable.

"I'm not a saint, Mrena," he says, quietly. "I'm as fallible as anyone, and if you look on me as some sort of ideal I'm only going to disillusion you one day."

[Armstrong] "I'm aware," she said. "I didn't say you were infallible. And I didn't say you were a saint, either."

She just called him... well, they both knew what she'd called him. But Shadow Lords were not infallible creatures. They were not perfect. They were not saints by any means, but creatures of necessity.

She looked forward again.

"So, what do you think of Caleb?"

a subject change.

[Lukas] This time, Lukas doesn't let the conversation go on just yet. He says, firmly: "Then don't worry about disappointing me. Because I never worry that you will."

It's punctuated by another flick of his eyes, that clear startling blue under those straight dark eyebrows. When he returns his attention to the road again he exhales slowly -- accepts the change of subject.

"Caleb -- I used to think him yet another Silver Fang dandy, but when I was cornered alone by three Dancers, he didn't hesitate to help me, even when it nearly killed him. Then when I brought him back for healing -- well, you were there. He told everyone to heal me first." Wry, "I was barely bruised.

"That about sums him up for me. I don't know him very well, but he's an honorable man, but perhaps a little too much of a gentleman. A good Garou at the core though, I think."

[Armstrong] He didn't let conversation go, instead confirmed that she was not going to be a dissapointment to him. He didn't worry about it. Said it firmly, punctuated with his eyes on the road again. And, finally, he accepted the change of subject.

She had asked what he thought of Caleb, and for her part she did listen. The theurge with the light eyes- grey, almost to the point of lacking color entirely, and she took him in. The theurge nodded, then gave her two cents. "He's solid," she stated.

The younger Shadow Lord nodded, then spoke again. "He's a decent theurge, he'll take a lot of the stress off. We'll... he knows what he's doing. I trust him. Admittedly, though, he spends a great deal of time out in the woods, so I'm not entirely certain how it'll work with the pack so spread out."

as if they weren't already.

[Lukas] "I imagine sooner or later he'll move in with the Bells," Lukas replies, rather dryly. "I have to admit, I wish Kate and Ed hadn't run off to their silver-fang crash pad. It was better when the whole pack roomed together, and the Brotherhood lets us keep a finger on the pulse of the Caern."

[Armstrong] "I don't see them as much anymore," she said.

It was a little regretful, really. "Do you ever feel like we're... disjointed?" Like she wasn't sure if that's the word she was looking for.

there was a pause.

"This weekend we need to get together as a pack. Quest or hunt or something. But as a pack."

[Lukas] Lukas doesn't answer her question for a moment. He's thinking.

Then, "I think in a pack this large people will always be doing their own individual things. It's never hard to find someone, but it'll always be hard to gather everyone. But I think so long as we keep one another in our ... y'know," wry, "our hearts, this pack will stay united."

The suggestion, though, draws another glance. He looks at the Theurge a moment, and then he nods.

"Yeah." A simple agreement. "Let's do it."

[Armstrong] "I'll start prepping," she said. "I look forward to it."