kate and sam.

[Katherine Bellamonte] It had been two days since Katherine Bellamonte returned.

The first night she'd spent at the Loft and the second -- well, to be frank -- she didn't remember all of the second night. It would be fair to say she had been putting off this reunion with her pack-mate. Not for a lack of caring but for the very fact that she knew it would not be full of hugs and tears. Arguments and violence -- far more probable. It had been different with Sam, for his very nature lent him toward being sunny rather than serious. Though, she knew the moment she looked down at the top of his fair head in the Caern; bent in shame over all that had passed while she had absent that it would lead to this.

That she would be the one to go before Lukas and attempt to heal the breach.

So it is with no small amount of reluctance that the tall Silver Fang waits until the early hours to visit the Brotherhood, she knows full well that Lukas rarely slept normal hours and that chances were good he would be awake. Of course -- he'd know of her approach even before she taps politely against the closed door. He'd feel her as surely as she felt him.

The bonds of pack.

"Lukas."

[Wyrmbreaker] But he's not in his room. He comes from behind her, fresh from the showers, a towel around his waist and a towel around his neck, his hair dripping wet and plastered to his head.

"Katherine." His tone does not bespeak surprise. Or joy, or recrimination, or -- anything, really. "I felt you in the city two days ago. Where were you?"

[Sam Modine] Sam, for now glides quietly up the stairs.

Once the Fenrir reaches the top he looks off toward Lukas' room where she had certainly darted. He though makes his way to the sectional sofa and picks up the remote to the television. He doesn't turn it on right away but instead props his elbows on his knees and looks nervously about the room while rolling the device from hand to hand.

It's not his battle to fight yet, not his explanation to make anymore.

Sam waits like a father in an emergency triage room.

[Katherine Bellamonte] She turns.

At the utter lack of any discernible emotion in his voice she takes a moment before she speaks, tugging her driving gloves from each hand and carefully folding them over, her head bent to the task as if it were of importance.

"In the Umbra. I went to seek some guidance."

She looks up, her pale eyes meeting his.

"Sam is outside."

[Wyrmbreaker] "Yes," Lukas is not speaking of the building or the hall anymore, "he is."

And there's a certain hardening in his eyes. Katherine has been gone for some time. Lukas -- doesn't look different, per se, but he doesn't look the same, either. The Circle has dwindled considerably. Out of the original eight plus one, Edward and Dylan remain lost to the Umbra; Katerina is gone to take care of her family affairs; Sam is banished; Mrena is dead. It leaves Lukas, Sampson and Caleb.

And Katherine.

"That's why you finally came back to your pack? To plead Mjollnir's Heart's case?"

[Sam Modine] In truth he could've done this himself.

All of them though have disparate pieces of the intricate puzzle behind the fact that he has not yet. There's a faint murmuring in the hallway but not true words, just the rumbling of voices. For now at least he doesn't get up just stares instead over the remote at the coffee table.

This has the potential to be a longer night than the last.

[Katherine Bellamonte] She winces.

"No," She says quietly, but with a firm resolution in her voice. "I was always going to return." A beat, she breathes out slowly and there is pain clear in her eyes as she continues.

"I heard about Mrena."

She makes some gesture, some feeble motion with her fingers as if she would touch him but stays her hand.

[Maija] Footsteps, tired and slow, clomp up the stairs. It's been a hell of a night, and it's not quite over yet. She's covered in blood, though thankfully, not her own. Her sweatshirt may never recover. She may simply have to burn it, this time, though for now she still wears it, and the hood pulled low over her face.

She doesn't head straight to her room, though, this time stopping at the note left by Nessa earlier. She pulls too pieces of paper from her pocket, and pins it to the note, grabbing a pencil to add at the bottom. "The truck registered an' insurance card from tonight. Ain't think either of them dudes is Lisa Tremaine of Cicero, Illinois. Marcus helped dispose of th'truck an' body. Ain't nothin else in there that'd identify any of em - no warrants either."

Only then, does she turn to walk through the commons.

[Wyrmbreaker] Lukas's jaw tightens at that. The hurt is still too new; he can hide it from strangers, but not from a packmate.

"It was a sorry way to die," is all he says. "We should have been there for her."

Nothing about her heroism at the end; nothing about the songs they would sing of her, or her grave in the Caern, or how she would return, or ... any of the trappings of honor and glory.

What Lukas remembers is the final night after Mrena lay dead: speaking to her spirit as her body cooled and stiffened in rigor mortis, then resolved again as that final seizure passed. What he remembers is the stars wheeling as she told her things he has not even thought about for years now -- things that, after that night, passed forever out of her consciousness because her consciousness ceased to exist as he understood it.

An exhale, then. He unlocks his room door and pushes it open, holding it for Katherine after him. It's the way she remembers, except his Ellis Island mug has a crack through it now.

"Dylan left too. She and Ed are still gone. Caleb's settled in well with us. And you already know Sam's out." He takes a seat on the edge of his bed, leaving her the chair.

[Sam Modine] "Hey." The young man is nervous about something, jittery but not at all impolite. He offers the girl, likely but not definitely kinfolk a cautious, closed lipped, attempt at a smile and sets the remote down in sudden decision.

"What's up?" If nothing else the Modi seems happy for company. So happy as a beast of Rage ever can seem to one not his own species.

[Maija] She flinches as he talks, stopping immediately. The scent of blood is thick and heavy around her, seeped into the fleece she wears as some sort of armour. Tension creeps up along her spine as she looks down at her self a long moment.

Suddenly, she can't take it anymore, wearin this, wearin some assholes blood an'gore on her person. With a sigh peels out of the sweatshirt, tugging her tanktop down a little bit. The tank top is ripped, barely covering half her torso now, making it very easy to see just how thin she really is. Her tattered jeans barely cling to almost non-existant hips.

"Nuthin. I always come home covered in fuckin blood."

[Sam Modine] "Not as uncommon as you might think around here." Sam does though wince at the cursing.

His eyebrows rise. He does take the opportunity to look her over, find any plainly visible injuries. "Aside from the mess, you okay?" In all truth though he hadn't really been looking at too much other than the coffee table in front of him and noticing her covered in blood would be like a blind man notcing a misspelling on a billboard at first. Now though He's looking, and he's asking.

He sounds concerned.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Mrena had been a sister to Katherine in many real ways, in ways that Gabriella as her blood relation could never be for the simple fact that she was human and her sister, despite her worldly trappings -- was not. There had existed between the Theurge and the Philodox a bond as strong as any between the remaining Circle members -- Mrena had understood Katherine's contrary nature and sought not to tame it but to understand it and in return the Silver Fang had extended to only the second Shadow Lord she had ever known a level of respect, a gentle affection.

The termination of this bond, and of Mrena's gentle, but steady hand in the pack had far-reaching ripples, some that had yet to reach the shore.

Lukas lets her into his room, the scents have not changed so much, some are stronger, some, like Mrena's, slowly but surely fading away to nothingness. She will not look toward the room that had been filled by their Theurge's spirit. Like Lukas, she felt the raw throb of the Shadow Lord's absence. "Yes, Sam told me what occurred. I was sorry for it." She begins, sitting herself down in his chair, pocketing her gloves and folding lily-white hands over her lap.

For a moment, she is very much the picture of her brother in a somber moment; her brows knit in troubled thought, the corners of her mouth turned downward as if it were too much to even force a smile. "Was there no other way? He is not suited to being without a pack. Perhaps if he were to properly apologize, we could do away with the banishment."

[Maija] That he sounds concerned only seems to get the tension to wind tighter around her spine. She stares at her sweatshirt, and then just lets it hang by her side as she drops her hand, her other crossing her thin torso to grasp her elbow, protectively over her belly. There don't seem to be any injuries, though. Nothing external, at least.

"Ain't hurt." this time - unspoken. Has been before, never even though about - at least not in front of strangers. "Jus' fuckin' beat." She means tired, most likely.

A moment's consideration, and she moves to take a seat on the couch, as far away from him as possible yet still able to perch on the edge. She sets the sweatshirt down on the floor, and starts to unlace her boots, a brief tightening of the muscle alongside her jaw the only sign of distaste as she works the wet and slimy laces out of their knot.

[Sam Modine] "Know the feeling." Sam nods. If he seems a little far away he is, but the foot bopping lightly with one heel on the floor is given a chance to slow some when he turns toward the other end of the couch, moving backwards amicably to try and give the girl more space under which to ebb the tide of Rage's furnace.

"If you need a place to sleep I've got one. I won't be using it for a few nights and it leaves an open bed." He thinks. "Everything's clean and stuff, new sheets a few days ago and I swept last time I was here, I doubt my roommate made too much of a mess." She's beat, so he offers. It seems genuine enough.

"I'm sorry." Suddenly. His mind obviously it occurs to him now wasn't on hand enough for the simplest polite exchanges. "My name's Sam."

[Wyrmbreaker] Lukas's brow darkens with a frown.

"You know how uncontrollable he was becoming even before you left, Katherine." Before she left, Lukas called her Kate frequently. Things changed. Now that she's returned, he still can't quite bring himself to fall back to that old familiar form of address. "You yourself saw how he flouted your authority to fornicate with your sister. You remember the night I throated him in the common room. Those were his first and second proper apologies.

"While you were gone, we gathered to discuss the topic of Alphaship. I claimed; Mrena challenged. Then Sam challenged. He's unsuited to Alpha. I told him so. He, outraged, denied my dominance. We fought again; I won; he lay refusing to submit, spitting invectives and trying to incite Mrena to rebellion. He went so far as to say,

" 'I'll still be here when you're dead and gone'."

Perhaps Lukas should be angry. Perhaps he should spit this account out furiously, full of venom. But he doesn't. He's flat and unaffected, steady: as though telling a tale of unpleasant but ancient history.

"I wanted to cut him out of the pack that night. He was apologetic again. I relented a few days later on the condition that he accept his precarious position as omega of the pack, subject to termination at the next sign of insubordination.

"A week ago he stood in the common room and picked a goddamn fight with a Philodox of his tribe. Over your sister, of all things, to whom he has no claim. I was out of town. Sampson was my second. He ignored direct orders from Sampson and Evan Judgment-of-Sterling-Silver, the Fostern Philodox, to stand down. He attacked his Tribesman -- futilely, I might add -- and then boasted and postured some more.

"So we cut him from the totem."

A pause.

"I'm not recounting this to rail against Sam, you understand. I'm telling you exactly why there was no other way. He has had chance after chance, and thrown them all away. Brotherhood and sentiment only goes so far, Katherine."

[Maija] "Maija." Mi-yah. With how little information she willingly gives about herself, her name rolls off her tongue too easily, too simply, without any forethought or concern. Of course, she doesn't ever write it down, so few people would spell it correctly on first attempt, and she never follows it with a last name.

She pulls one boot off, and it thuds to the floor. She peels the sock off and shoves it inside before starting on the other. A broken wooden pendant on a slender chain hangs from her neck, as she works. "Room one's mine."

As skittish as she is around folks, as carefully controlled as her tension may be, it's unsurprising she'd snatched the last single room the moment it was empty.

[Sam Modine] "Cool," and, "oh."

"Sorry, I didn't...I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting yet." Hands press against his jeans, smooth them absently. Obviously he thinks a moment later, you just exchanged names for the first time.

"I take it you're kin then, to someone here?"

[Maija] Room one, of course, belonged to a Fenrir Philodox for a while - but she moved in quickly and without fanfair, mere hours after he vacated it. If she knows the reasons for it, she doesn't give them. In fact, she answers nothing more than direct questions, as briefly as possible. Habit keeps her cautious, habit keeps her tense. Her shoulders ache with the knots building, even as she finally peels off the second boot, and sock, shoving the latter into the former.

She braces her elbows on her thighs, and studies her hands, looking at the blood there dried along the knuckles, the lines of her palms. "Not exactly. Kin yes. Ain't got no one."

No one's left. It's been a fucked up month, to say the least.

[Katherine Bellamonte] She listens to all Lukas has to say.

She does not interrupt him, her eyes downcast to the floor, her brow retaining its deep furrows of contemplation. If possible, they deepen as Lukas goes on, revealing elements of a story to which she had thus far only heard one side. And, it appeared to her as Lukas recounted detail, only the parts that kept her former pack-mate in an unaccountable light.

"I did not use Truth of Gaia on Samuel when he recounted events," she says softly, her voice gentled by dismay and perhaps, a hint of anger. "Perhaps that was unwise of me in hindsight. I do not wish to use it on you, either. I want my pack," she looks at the man sitting across from her intently. "My family to be together. I do not wish to lose anyone else like Mr-" she stumbles over the name, and the pain in her chest intensifies for a beat.

She holds, she waits.

It passes.

"If this elder of my own moon asked this of Mjollnir's Heart and he disrespected him by ignoring his order than I cannot speak against his judgment as much as it pains me to say it." Katherine breathes out a slow, steady breath from her lungs and, surprisingly, rises to her feet only to take a step and drop to her knees before Lukas, her hands on his arms, her upturned face suddenly claimed by a passion of emotion.

"Forgive me, Lukas. I should never have left. I -- " It is a effort for Katherine to force the words out, it is plain. "I will surrender to your leadership, but you must first say you forgive me." Whatever had occurred to Truth's Meridian during her Umbral quest, that it had in some small way matured her is clear in the manner she subjects herself to another's power. And of all others -- Lukas, whom she had for so long defied.

[Wyrmbreaker] It's the first sign of emotion since they met in the hall: Lukas is openly dismayed as Katherine falls to her knees. The Shadow Lords were never such abiders of tradition and ceremony as the Fangs. The gesture embarrasses him, discomfits him. He pulls her to her feet almost as soon as she's down, sets her bodily on the mattress beside him.

"Christ, Kate," there it is again, "what the hell was that? What is there to forgive? The Totem called and you answered. We went on without you as we had to. My only disappointment is that you didn't come straight back to your pack upon your return."

He leans his elbows on his knees then, running his hands distractedly through his hair for a moment. When they lower they press palm to palm between his knees, and he frowns at the desk.

"Sam's not meant to be without a pack, but the truth is this pack isn't for him anymore. There are plenty of lone Garou in the city. He'll find a new pack; one wilder and more suited to his ways."

[Sam Modine] "Man, that's rough."

Sam's lips turn downward in sympathetic regret, he even looks right at her for just a second before casting his eyes back down. "Well is there anybody to look after you at least? I mean everybody needs somebody." Hands gnash against one another anxiously where they prop over knees.

"What tribe were you with, I mean, birthwise?" Sam pauses. "Maybe I can find you somebody."

[Katherine Bellamonte] The gesture embarrasses him, discomforts him and yet it seems to cleanse the woman who he pulls back from her knees on the floor and sits beside him on the bed in an act that may be as symbolic as it is practical. "I was ashamed." She admits softly, biting down for a moment on her lower lip. Her hair tumbles around her shoulders in a loose, golden mass as she lowers her face to her lap and makes a study of her hands.

A long moment seems to drag on after Lukas speaks of Sam finding a new pack.

"Oui," she concedes in her mother's language with a deeply felt sigh. "I just worry for him, Lukas. I worry that my indulgences have somehow contributed to this mess. Were I stricter, were I to have sent Gabriella away somewhere."

She shakes her head, and leans down to mirror his posture.

[Maija] "I ain't a fuckin chairty case." It's snapped, instant, though her voice doesn't rise even a notch. She's well trained not to raise her voice at all, and truth be told, she's to tired to put much power behind it. Doesn't make the feeling any less valid.

"Bone Gnawer. And I ain't need nobody."

She lowers her head into her hands, sliding her fingers up into her hair, blunt nails scratching idly at her scalp as little flakes of dried blood flutter down to the floor.

[Sam Modine] "I didn't mean that." He swallows down a lump in his throat. "I just...a good friend of mine died recently and she didn't have anyone around at the end. I'd rather not see something like that happen to anybody else if I can help it. Sam shrugs. "If you don't want me to that's fine. But I wasn't going to make you my charity case."

Fingers tap together and he huffs out a breath, watching the clock on one wall.

"I was trying to be nice is all."

[Wyrmbreaker] "I don't think Gabriella had much to do with it," Lukas replies. "She's young and foolish, but ... it's not fair blaming her for a Garou's mistakes."

Pause. Lukas thinks a while. They're side by side, both with elbows on knees, thoughtful.

"At any rate," he adds, "she can't have many years of freedom left. Sooner or later she'll be mated off to some politically advantageous Garou, yeah?"

[Katherine Bellamonte] At that Katherine gives a mirthless laugh. "Oh yes, have little doubt that even as we speak my Uncle is plotting to secret her away as the young bride to some stranger we have never met with the credentials that go for miles." She sounds more than a little sarcastic about the entire thing and leans her elbow on a knee, turning to give her pack-mate a side-on glance.

"And you, Lukas? What stories do you have to tell me of the time since we last spoke? Are you still seeing that Kinwoman?" There is little love lost between Katherine and Danicka, though to her credit the Silver Fang tries her hardest to keep the notch of resentfulness to a minimum.

[Maija] "Ya think ya the only one what lost someone? Th' guy I came here t'meet. Dead. Th'one what gived me a job. Dead. Th'one I was fuckin? Disappeared without a fuckin' trace. Me? beat t'shit. An' that's jus' this past month. Only one I got t'depend on is myself. I ain't need no one else. They'll jus' fuckin disappear anyway, one way or th' other."

She leans down to grab her sweatshirt, her boots, and looks at him, the briefest flickr of a smirk sliding across her lips before it disappears again. "Dunno who ya tryin t'fool. Ain't none of ya trueborn 'nice' when it comes down t'it. Don' hurt yaself tryin' on my account." She stands and starts her way across the room again toward the showers. "Ain't nuthin worth worryin about in me anyway."

[Sam Modine] "Whatever." If anything when he leans back in the chair, a little agitated Sam seems hurt by that.

Genuinely hurt.

After a minute or two he stands, brushes himself off from any wrinkles in his clothing and goes back to his room to pack up a small bag with clothes It doesn't take long and before one knows it he's set it on the common table and taken his seat again to wait for Katherine's return. Loyal, to the last.

[Wyrmbreaker] Lukas turns as Katherine laughs, mirthless. His look is quizzical. "I always thought that's what you and Ed wanted for Gabriella. To be married off to some worthy Garou of your tribe."

And, a shake of his head -- but not because he wasn't seeing 'that kinwoman' anymore. "Her name's Dani&+269;ka," he says, quiet, "and yes, I'm still seeing her."

That's all he says on that subject. He doesn't tell her about breaking up with her; about falling to pieces; about the fact, pure and simple, that he loves Danicka. Dani&+269;ka. He's never once pronounced that name wrong. He's said it over and over and over, long before he even admitted to himself:

I want this woman in my bed.

Then, "What about you? Are you going to look that kinsman up again -- Martin? Last I heard he moved away."

[Maija] The idea that any Garou would be hurt is ridiculous to her, but she certain doesn't stick around to discover if it's genuine or more trueborn bullshit. It doesn't matter either way - as the trueborn arn't the only members of the nation that bring pain.

Soon enough, the water starts in a shower, and she does her damnedest to run the entire place out of hot water, spraying out her sweatshirt and boots while she's at it.

It's all about multi-tasking.

Soon the hot water isn't doing anything but make her more tired. She rings out her sweatshirt, and shakes as much water as possible from her boots. She towel dries her hair, then wraps a towel around her torso, grabs shoes/shirt, and drips her way out of the bathroom, and through the commons again.

If he says something - she'll stop. If not, she keeps going straight on through. 7am creeps up way to soon for her liking, and there'll be a bunch of dishes awaiting her downstairs.

[Katherine Bellamonte] "To be married to someone worthy, yes." She stresses. "But how can I be sure that he is worthy if I have never set my eyes on him? At least with Sam I knew what she was getting herself into. But when she is moved away from me, how am I to know? How am I to protect and watch over her, then?"

Katherine does not ask these things as though she expected an answer from Lukas, she says them the way you would ask any kind of unanswerable thing, with no expectation of reply that could satisfy. Yes, he is still seeing Danicka. Or was it Dani&+269;ka with an accent? It could be supposed Katherine Bellamonte had never tried to get her name precisely correct.

Martin.

Some flicker of pain fills the Philodox's eyes at the mention of his name and she is quick enough to shake her head in the negative. "Non, I am neither right nor good for him."

A beat, and Katherine straightens; glances toward the door. "Sam is waiting for my answer outside, I should not keep him any longer."

[Wyrmbreaker] "Then don't move her away," Lukas replies. Silver Fang politics are complex and convoluted; to him, the solution seems easier than it is. "Keep her close. She's your blood. You have every right."

She's neither right nor good for Martin: "He was neither right nor good for you, Katherine. There are worthier kinsmen than him."

Then Lukas nods. As she stands to go he adds, "I'm glad you're back, Kate. We'll all be glad, I think. There have been far too many farewells lately."

[Katherine Bellamonte] He's glad she's back, Martin was neither good nor right for her.

She stands, but she turns to glance at Lukas and in a moment of remembered gaiety she leans down and presses a brief, chaste kiss to his brow as if he were a brother to her, in many ways, he was just this. She pulls back with a roguish smile as her kiss leaves the imprint of her lipstick on his brow.

"I am glad to be back, Lukas."

She says, and turns to walk to his door. Hand on the knob she hesitates a moment and says over her shoulder in a small, uncertain voice. "I think perhaps I loved Martin." As if it were nothing but a passing, errant thought.

[Wyrmbreaker] Lukas considers her a moment. Then he shakes his head. Perhaps this is cruel -- but then Lukas has always believed more in truth than in kindness.

"I think if you loved him, you would not let him go so easily."

He gets up from his bed as well. She lets herself out and he goes to his dresser, getting out his clothes for the night; for sleep.

"Goodnight, Kate."

[Katherine Bellamonte] Lukas, her Lukas so much as she consider him such, had never strayed from telling her the utmost truth. So it is now that he replies perhaps with the knowledge which she did not wish to apply to her own cause: I think if you loved him, you would not let him go so easily.

She cannot resist the smile over her shoulder, as rueful as it is. "Perhaps."

--

"Sam." She says, when she finally emerges with her hands at her sides, her expression neither happy nor sad but some space between the two where a Philodox had no choice but to live.

"I have spoken to Lukas."

[Maija] And as, presumably, he does not say anything - the door to room one is unlocked, opened enough to let her through, closed and locked once more.

[Sam Modine] She enters the room and Sam, as usual when this is the case does not remain seated. Instead he stands not at perfect attention if only because he's never been taught how, but upright completely, his feet naturally at around shoulder width. On hand reaches slowly out and takes both straps of the bag.

"And?"

Sam sounds hopeful, but not overly excited. The same weight that had him down right through the first few drinks last night added upon an already bad two weeks. He's had to kill a man, by all evidence a good man and a strong one simply to preserve the law and it has not sat well. He's still got that same natural demeanor under the Rage and the hallmark purity of blood but it's weighed down by both sorrow and sleeplessness. There's something undone inside him slowly unraveling but not quite boiling fully over.

He had to murder.
And the only person he'd be comfortable talking to about it won't even speak to him face to face.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Give her this much credit, she does not flinch from what she sees as her duty. Rather, she steps fully into the room and moves until she is standing directly across from Sam, her eyes level with his own. "Lukas will not relent on his decision to expel you from the pack."

A beat, and Katherine holds a hand out, curling her fingers under her palm as if placating with him to give her leave to finish what must be said.

"Sam, that we all care for you must never be doubted. You have been a loyal pack mate and true follower of our totem. However, that you could not obey the direct order of not only your own pack mate left in charge, but my own better of my moon makes me question your capacity to serve under our pack." A beat, Katherine's eyes were full of neither pity nor rage but some kind of deeper emotion.

"That I love as my brother is never questioned, but I cannot continue to love you as my pack mate and for this I am truly sorry."

[Katherine Bellamonte] (agh, typo: "that I love you as my brother" that should read)

[Sam Modine] "I obeyed though." Sam seems genuinely confused at first. "He asked me to stop and I did. Then I showed throat to the other who'd done the same, the Philodox. It was immediate I didn't even hesitate I showed him throat Katherine..."

His lip is bitten so hard a chunk leaves it. Lips close while the Fenrir bleeds into his own mouth slowly.

"You were lied to." Quiet. The last of it.

"Can we go home?" After just a few moments, with downcast eyes Sam asks after her. The bag nearly falls out of trembling hands. It will be as it's always been. He won't lie and the Shadow Lords will and he will come out on the losing end for it. "I just want to go home."

There are so many ways he could mean that other than the direct in which it's stated. So many ways he would like to travel back. They all would, likely.