favorite cafe.

[Fabienne Bartelle] *Well. It was hardly New York. It certainly wasn't Vienna. But New York held the Pinkerton-Smythes, and Vienna was full of the Viennese, as well as Anton Klabner. Chicago would have to do. Fabienne gives a slight sigh as she looks skyward into the icy drizzle. Uncertain as to the appropriateness of an umbrella. Afterall, what if it turned to snow? It wouldn't do to be in a snowstorm with a bloody umbrella. One would look ridiculous. Above all things, Fabienne would not be caught looking ridiculous. As if to make certain, the elegant kin stops mid stride and adjusts a tailored white coat, flicking an imaginary bit of lint off the sleep and raising her chin to regard her surroundings more carefully. Grey eyes slip to Max as he stamps out his smoke. Angry man slouched against a wall. No matter. She had pepper spray. A New Yorker Indeed.*

[Fabienne Bartelle] (ahem. SLEEVE)

[Lukas] (don't wait for me, guys -- i wanna hammer out some posts for the RIP threads)

[Moira Murray] (places?)
to Fabienne Bartelle, Leyna Stidolph, Lukas, Max

[Leyna Stidolph] (Somewhere...*nods*)
to Fabienne Bartelle, Lukas, Max, Moira Murray

[Fabienne Bartelle] [Places = Near glitzy skyscrapers, on the street. Max leaning on wall. Fab stopped nearby givin him a looksee.]

[Leyna Stidolph] Leyna casually walked along the side walk, her thick black coat open, her curly mess of dark brown locks pulled back into a sloppy ponytail. Her hair wasn't an important factor, nor was her clothes. Sure they were clean-ish, but she did not wear the latest fashions or what have you. Tattered and torn jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt that had a few stains.

She did have to get new boots though, her old worn work boots were starting to talk while she walked along. She didn't like throwing away things, but there was no way she could repair these again. And the patches on her jeans were starting to wear down, she was going to have to take a crow bar to her wallet and go out shopping for new clothes. Eventually.

Her hands were stuffed into her coat, an earbud placed in with a cord leading to her right pocket. Thank you Sashenka! Music allowed her mind to wander and that's what she needed right now more than anything. Just to think and not about the important stuff that occupied her usual time. Just random things like, what does purple taste like?

[Max] Pepper spray might not deter one of Gaia's chosen, but then, hopefully Fabienne wouldn't feel the need to use it. Max glanced up from his boots just in time to catch the piercing gaze of a woman who seemed to belong in this part of town far better than he himself did. It may have just been a cursory glance, at first, but when he realized what he was looking at, he let his eyes hover there: yellow-tinted hazel on steely grey. After a moment, the briefest hint of a grin touched one side of his mouth, and it was a far-too-predatory-looking expression. (But then, maybe he couldn't really help that.)

"Well if it isn't a bit of royalty, right here in the Windy City."

[Moira Murray] She has been sitting on a bench, legs crossed. Her left foot bouncing idly, a twitch of movement made of its own accord. People slide in and out of the dark haired kin's line of sight constantly, drawing her head up from its bowed position whenever something caught her attention. There was a iphone in her left hand, thumb rolling over the screen as she checked her messages.

Her attention seemed split, eyes dancing up and down frequently, between the device and random strangers. Moira crinkles her nose, eyes settling on Leyna for a bit as she lifts a curious eyebrow at the skinny thing, remembering her from the meeting.

[Fabienne Bartelle] *Fabienne is dressed impeccably. Tasteful and expensive. Tailored charcoal pants, a snappy white wool coat that cost more than many people's monthly salary, double breasted and belted round a narrow waist. An upward tilt of her chin. Haughty. A slight narrowing of dove grey eyes. The Fang kin tilts her head slightly and finally nods.*

Why yes. I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with you sir. Your details, If I might be so bold?

*It would appear she is so bold, as the look she gives Max is nothing if not expectant. Waiting for his answer as a delicate hand draws her purse closer. Just because he could recognize her blood did not mean he wasn't intending on spilling it, afterall. Leyna's approach gets a cursory glance. Noted and accounted for. Shoddily clothed, and seemingly preoccupied with her ipod or some such. Of little concern.*

[Leyna Stidolph] Skinny... gaunt.. runt of the litter.. that was Leyna. She was a meekly looking thing, and everyone pretty much assumed that she was. Well those that did not know her very well. One foot in front of the other, she had a powerful stride. Confident and proud. Her shoulders did not slouch, her chin was always level with the ground and never with her chest. Her ratting clothing were just...material things. Materials did not make the man or Garou.

She seemed to be lost in her own world, not even paying attention to others... Her eyes suddenly flickered to the ground, [i}What was that?[/i].. She moved to the edge of the sidewalk unaware she was being watched and picked up a shiny quarter. Hey it was face up! She was going to be lucky tonight! She smiled broadly as she stuffed the quarter into her pocket.

[Max] There was a moment of divided attention, as Max seemed to become aware of both Leyna and Moira simultaneously, and his eyes flickered between them and Fabienne. Suddenly, he gave a little snort (amusement maybe, or disbelief, it didn't really matter), and then asked, of the universe at large: "Jesus Fuck, what is this, some kinda kinfolk parade? Picked a good enough day for it."

Sarcastic, naturally. The weather was anything but inviting. He laughed before turning back to Fabienne, to answer her question. "Max Brenner. Modi. Nice to meet you, princess." He actually gave a little bow, then, though it likely wasn't entirely serious in nature.

Footsteps took him a few paces away, toward where Leyna was reaching down to pick something off the ground. He tapped her on the shoulder, then glanced over at Moira, aiming to greet the two of them at once perhaps. "Hey." Simple and sweet. "Max." And he stuck out a hand in Leyna's direction first. If she took it, he'd cross the short distance to Moira and offer likewise.

[Lukas] There's so much purebreed on the Mile right now that it's a wonder they don't glow like a beacon. It's a wonder the Wyrm doesn't descend on masse on this city block.

Maybe that's why Lukas, coming out of a bookstore with a bag in hand, doesn't head for his car parked ten feet away. Instead, he turns, curious, and comes directly toward the epicenter of all that breeding, recognizing few or none of them. He recognizes their ancestry, though; their blood, their lineage.

Just as Max will recognize his. Carpathian wolves and warlords; pure Shadow Lord.

[Leyna Stidolph] She jumps out of her skin when Max taps her shoulder shrieking slightly, her head and body wiped around all at once. She stares at him like a dear caught in head lights, slightly panicked by his sudden approach. "Hi!" She blundered out.

She took a deep breath and then once she was composed. "Leyna." She said with a thick German accent. She took a moment to look over him as she grabbed his hand with her calloused hand. She had a firm hand shake. "Nice to meet you, Max-rhya." She said to him with a quirked brow and then promptly took her hand back. What the hell was it with people and sneaking up behind her? It wasn't cool.

[Moira Murray] Max would not need to cross the distance to meet Moira. She was already in motion - legs unfurled, setting feet down as she leans forward to scoot to the edge of the bench and rises. She turns, standing a few inches taller than her five ft, eight in height allows. Calf-high boots, handmade Italian black leather, made up the rest of it.

The iphone is slipped away into her coat pocket as she steps away from the bench, making her way towards Leyna. Max and Fabienne would just be an added bonus in meeting. She pauses a few feet away, waiting for introductions to be passed along. Arms tucking behind her back, gloved hands clasping together as it pulls her long coat open more to reveal the dark grey of a thick cashmere tunic sweater and matching scarf over a pair of dark wash jeans.

A twist in her gut has Moira looking elsewhere briefly, blue eyes settling on the tall imposing figure of Lukas as he stops to stare at them all, but mainly on Max. She clears her throat, offering anyone a smile that looks at her.

[Fabienne Bartelle] Mm, a pleasure to meet you Mr. Brenner. Ms. Fabienne Bartelle, as you please.

*Modi. Ah yes, a Fenrir Ahroun. Which was likely why he felt as though he were a mugger. Better reason than most any to mind her P's and Q's. Fabienne takes a deep breath, ignoring the Get's rude exclamation and mocking bow in favor of stepping gracefully under a glass overhang. The weather couldn't decide between raindrops and snowflakes, moisture collecting on her lashes as she watches Max address the shoddily dressed woman and another. Another man approaching through the sleet draws grey eyes as she lingers, hands folded in front of her daintily. Lukas looked over carefully.*

[Max] Getting tapped on the shoulder by six feet, two inches of solid Ahroun tended to have an unpleasant affect on people, especially when they weren't expecting it. Max took Leyna's reaction in stride, watching her with slightly raised eyebrows until she managed to calm herself enough to accept his introduction and return his handshake. "Should pay more attention when you're walking. Never know what might sneak up on you." (Like him, for instance.) Still, the warning was mostly in jest, and he winked at her (apparently the Modi had a sense of humor) before turning to Moira.

He gave her a quick glance before offering that handshake, lupine eyes traveling up and down the clean-cut lines of her expensive outfit before they settled on her face. "And you are?"

In the distance, there was rage, and more breeding, from yet another tribe. Lukas approached, but Max didn't turn to face him until the other Ahroun had officially entered their little bubble of the universe. The reaction this time was a little different than it had been with the kin. He turned to meet Lukas' eyes, cocked his head to one side, and then gave a slow nod of his head. Hello.

[Moira Murray] Moira extends her hand out to shake Max's hand, accepting the roving eyes with wry smirk and an arching eyebrow. She answers after drawing her hand free, sliding it back behind her once more to join the other.

"Moira." She says, "Murray."

She casts Leyna a side-glance, mouthing a quiet "hello" to her and then looks over to Fabienne, not wanting to exclude the pretty blond by any means and nods her head to her in greeting.

[Leyna Stidolph] Leyna realized what was going on after a moment and she glanced around, recognizing Moira and her eyes traveling to Fabienne and then to Lukas. She glanced back at Max and offered him a nervous smile to his words as she pulled the buds from her ears and stuffed them into her pocket.

She felt a little under dressed, everyone around her was so well pressed and clean cut. They have spent to much time in the city, that was the only thing she could chalk it up too. Leyna was alright one on one, but in groups.. she had a tendency to go quiet.

She glanced back over to Moira and gave her a nod, before taking a few steps back away from the are to just observe in silence. She was good with the whole.. not talking thing. Less trouble that way.

[Lukas] Even those of them that cannot sense purity of blood, even those of them who only recognizes Rage dimly, can tell at a glance that Lukas is not some idle passerby. His approach is far too direct for that. He does not flinch away from Max's curious look. He holds the other man's eyes steadily, levelly, until the nod of greeting is given.

Then he looks at the gathered. The male Garou; the female kin. Seems to be the trend, more often than not.

"Let's go somewhere else," he says. "It's very odd, a group of strangers chitchatting in freezing rain. There's a cafe around the corner with a few discreet tables in the back corners."

And, as he starts to usher the group that way, "My name is Lukáš. Shadow Lord Ahroun, and Fostern."

[Moira Murray] For Moira, Lukas' presence seems to draw the kinfolk's tongue immobile. Very much like Leyna, she reverts to a quiet demeanor. Her eyes narrow inward, scrutinizing the Shadow Lord that suggests they go elsewhere to find a more discreet locale to talk. She neither disagrees nor agrees.

Her eyes skip away to settle on Leyna, side-stepping to the left, sidling up next to the skinny girl and nudges Leyna's shoulder with her own. A comforting gesture, perhaps. Her voice falls low, only meant for Leyna to hear, "Getting along at the pack house alright?"

[Fabienne Bartelle] A pleasure Lukáš. If we might... * She gestures down the sidewalk, a nearly imperceptible nod to all gathered in turn. Introductions accepted, acknowledged, absorbed. Words spoken quietly to the Shadowlord as she moves in the direction indicated. Long legs eating up the sidewalk with graceful efficiency. She would be all too pleased to get out of the cold, as it seemed her evening was about to be commandeered by the Trueborn of the lesser tribes. Mild irritation is obfuscated by a polite curve of lips. It wouldn't do to seem petulant afterall.*

[Max] "Bad weather is good for character," he added with a wry smile, when Lukas made his suggestion. But of course, the idea had its merits, so he took a moment to offer a proper introduction to the Fostern, as was both fitting and required.

"Max Brenner. Stands in Defiance. Cliath Modi of the Get." And he offered another nod, this one a little less ambiguous and a little more respectful, his eyes darting very briefly to the ground before meeting Lukas' once more. Then he returned his attention to the gathered kin. Fabienne was attempting to get the Fostern's attention, so he let the two of them have a moment while he turned to face the two trueborn of his own tribe.

"Feel like having coffee with the big bad wolves?"

[Leyna Stidolph] She looked over at Moira when she was nudged by the other kin and smiled softly when asked about how she was getting along at the pack house. "Everything is alright." She said quietly, "Though it seems far more empty than before." She admitted, due to the death of Joss and Curata.

She took a deep breath and looked to Lukas and then to Max when he spoke. "This one will stay behind. I do not fit in." It was simple, straight forward and yet still held respect in her tone to Max. She lowered her eyes, letting the spot light fall onto Moira.

[Lukas] "Your tribe's going through some upheaval right now," Lukas tells Max. "You'll want to seek out one by the name of Kemp Oates. Truth in Frenzy-rhya. You might have heard of him; he's an Adren."

Then his attention swings around to Fabienne as they start walking. The other kinswomen apparently infringe little on the Shadow Lord's consciousness; they're not his kin, and not the kin of his packmates.

Fabienne, however: "Have you made contact with your tribe yet?"

[Moira Murray] "I've run with bigger, badder wolves."

Moira smiles coyly at Max, lips peeling back even wider. Her chin tilting up as she boldly met the Modi's eyes and shrugs her shoulders. "Coffee sounds divine."

She indicates to Leyna if the other wanted to join them as well, Moira didn't seem ready to abandon the other kin. "Leyna, you sure you don't feel up to coffee?"

Fabienne and Lukas have already started walking, the pair forgotten as Moira kept her attention on her tribesmen.

[Fabienne Bartelle] *A thin eyebrow raises as Lukas addresses her such. Regardless, if the Shadowlord spoke truthfully (which shadowlords seldom did, in her limited experience) he was regardless, a Fostern in the eyes of the nation, and deserving of due deference. Her attention fully on the Lord as she responds.*

Mlle Bellamonte has been sent a letter in regards to my presence in her city, and I have had the good fortune to speak with her brother as well regarding an errant kin.

*A small purse is clasped in front of her. Just so. Fabienne nothing if not collected and precise. Still she regards Lukas with no little suspicion.*

[Lukas] (it's a goddamn food chain in here)

[cat] (Stalks the bird, who stalks the cricket)

[Leyna Stidolph] (chomp chomp achewy chomp!)

[Max] Lukas mentioned Truth in Frenzy, and Max grinned. "So I saw." By this, of course, he meant the signs at the caern. "Looks like I picked an interesting time to come down." But Fabienne had the Lord's attention, so he let it go at that. It was tribal business, at any rate, and not something he needed to be discussing in-depth with one of Thunder's ilk.

Between Leyna and Moira, one shied away and the other stepped forward. It was telling of the differences in their personalities. Max eyed the less social of the two for a moment, thoughtfully. "Not gonna get very far if you let a few people scare you, but suit yourself." He wasn't going to force her, and neither was he going to waste the energy trying to change her mind through less aggressive routes.

Moira, on the other hand, would receive a wide grin for her response. "Maybe so, but were any of them as handsome as me?" His teeth were big and too-white. A flash of predatory arrogance. And then he was following in the wake of the Shadow Lord and the Silver Fang kin, heading towards whatever cafe Lukas had in mind.

[Leyna Stidolph] Leyna's lip twitched at the way the Fenrir trueborn spoke. She was not afraid and to even imply that she was.. made her fists clench. She looked up over at Moira and snorted slightly. "Coffee is good." She said to her fellow kin with a far more gruff tone. She had all intentions of just letting the more social do the talking and casual chit chat, it was not her thing..

But like Hel! Was she going to stand there and be called a coward in so many words. Just because one has respect for their place and their dues, does not mean they are some scared child in the dark. She waited for Moira to start walking and then followed along.

[Moira Murray] Moira's tongue clicks against the back of her teeth, tsking softly after Max. His overconfidence bleeding off in his personality. She reacts to his arrogance with a casual air, pulling a hand from behind her back to sweep gloved fingers across her forehead and brush bangs out of her eyes.

"As a matter of fact..." she grins like a Cheshire Cat, "The last Modi I had the discreet pleasure to lay eyes upon was quite the Adonis. He had the prettiest blond eyelashes I had ever seen and the fiercest grey eyes. Rather breathtaking if you could survive the infernal heat that engulfed him as his rage was so high."

She has to keep herself from outright laughing as the description she paints of someone she knows almost makes it sound a bit romanticized. "Too bad he's mated." She rolls her shoulders back in a faint shrug and once Leyna has decided to come along, moves in step with the other kin bringing up the rear of the party.

[Lukas] "Oh?" Lukas's eyebrows rise with surprise, then lower. He seems pleased. "Excellent. Both Katherine and her brother are my packmates," he adds. "I saw you on the street and did not recognize you. I was going to put you in touch if you hadn't, but it seems you've handled the matter yourself."

It's an explanation. She seems suspicious. He doesn't entirely blame her. Shadow Lords -- unmistakable, thunderborne, dark haired, lightning-eyed Shadow Lords -- homing in on Silver Fang kin of exceptional breeding: it seemed sinister under the best of circumstances.

Then they're at the cafe, which is an independent, expensive affair, all lowslung leather armchairs and low lighting, small spindly-legged tables lit by solitary spotlights. The smell of coffee beans is rich in the air. Lukas pulls the door open and, mindless of the escaping warm, holds it until the whole of the party has caught up and entered.

[Fabienne Bartelle] Yes. Thank you for the sentiment however, Lukas. *Glad to be out of the cold, Fabienne ducks her head in polite thanks and moves to take a seat. She'd caught most of that. More so the expression on the tall Lord's face. Her purse is set carefully in front of her, hands folded on top with too much precision to be entirely casual. Fabienne looking for the wait staff, gesturing a woman over with an idle flick of slender fingers.*

[Max] Leyna needn't have worried too much about her present state of dress. Max's particular look wasn't exactly high fashion either. A light shadowing of sandy facial hair covered his chin and jaw, and none of his clothes looked particularly new. The jeans had a hole in one knee, denim frayed along the edges, and the jacket had places that were rubbed soft and dull. He smelled like a mixture of frozen rain, leather, and cigarette smoke.

Still, the look fit him well enough, and he wasn't exactly the type to give two shits if people felt like staring. When he got to the door of the cafe, he held it open for the two kin behind him. Moira was ready with a teasing quip to answer his cocky assertion, and rather than get offended, he simply laughed. (Because really, it was an amusing game they were playing, and it passed the time.) "Well that's a shame for you. I've got black eyelashes, and brown eyes, but I'm single. I suppose we all have to make due."

[Moira Murray] Moira waits for Leyna to move ahead of her inside the door to the cafe as she stands outside, stopping beside Max as he graciously held the door open for the Fenrir kinswomen. She chuckles a little at the Modi, reaching up to pat the left side of his cheek and wiggles her eyebrows at him. Her grin growing more impish as the game continued.

"Second best isn't so bad." She croons out and then ducks inside the door. She waits for the others, allowing Lukas to choose the location of their table and casting a playful smirk to Leyna. "I'll buy, pick whatever you like." She offers to the other kin.

[Leyna Stidolph] Leyna walked through the door and looked around at the nice restaurant. She could feel a tightness in her stomach, this is a place Sashenka would come.. Not Leyna. Leyna's place was that shady pub in the shanties. She scratched the back of her neck as she followed along.

She looked over at Moira and chuckled softly, "The money isn't an issue." She said to the other kin. "I am more then capable paying for myself." She didn't like to be in peoples debts and she could very well on her own pay herself. "It's only coffee." Right? Right. She takes a seat at the table... wiggling her ass on the leather chair.. huh..it was comfortable.. too comfortable. She slides off her coat, stuffing it behind her back.

[Lukas] "You're welcome," Lukas replies, wry. "You Silver Fangs; always so polite."

The table Lukas picks is, in fact, in the back, away from the other patrons, discreet. There are four chairs around it, and Lukas pulls up a fifth if it looks like the Fenrir cadre are coming to join them.

Either way, the Shadow Lord strips out of his outerwear, lays coat and scarf over the back of his seat, tosses gloves onto the table. There's a small menu upright on the table, which he doesn't bother to peruse, having apparently been here more than a few times. When their server arrives, Lukas orders what he typically does -- caffè corretto a cognac -- and then sits back.

By then it's become quite apparent that Moira and Max are flirting. Lukas, on the contrary, is decidedly not flirting with anyone. There's a sense that he's being polite when he picks up the conversational slack with Leyna:

"You're new to the city too, aren't you? I may have seen you around a time or two, but I don't think we've been introduced."

[Fabienne Bartelle] *A particular blended coffee is ordered. Lukas regarded a moment before Fabienne contents herself with simply listening. Silverfangs may always be polite, but they were not all charming. Polite the blonde did with aplomb. Charming, charming simply wasn't in her. *

[Leyna Stidolph] She ordered just a water when the waitress came, she wasn't really in the mood for coffee nor was she that hungry. She just rather sit here and prove she wasn't afraid, then go home content.

She looks at Lukas with a raised brow. "Yes we have." She said to him. "Though I don't expect you to remember, it was a brief encounter." She explained, "You were on the bench with Caleb-rhya." She bounced in her seat a little, surprised by the springiness of it. In fact the whole restaurant had her ears and eyes perked. She had never been in anything this fancy.. and it was a bit intimidating.

Picking up the fabric napkin and looking it over as she unfolded it. The intricate patterns and the soft texture of the fine cloth.. it amused her...

[Andrew] Down an alley somewhere. They have them in the Magnificent Mile, oh yes. They're darker and more dangerous than any other alleys, for the contrast between the bright overbearing glare of the Mile's lights and the deep gloom of the alleys between parking decks, shiny glass towers, and brick facings. Meaty slaps and thumps are heard. The soft sharp whumps of padded bones intersecting with muscle and vitals. The crunches of air compressed between appendages slamming into other soft surfaces. Then the faint slap of shoes on pavement.

He twists one way. Then the other. Avoiding the main streets. Skirting around a large plastic trash bin, bouncing off a metal dumpster, weaving around another corner. The bright glare of the Mile opens ahead of him. Lights, sounds, people. He slows and stuffs his hands into his pockets. His breathing calming, regulating, and dropping to normal as he leisurely rounds a corner, flicks a glance up, and then slides into the Cafe behind the group of people that just slipped in. Keeping his head down in his hoodie, hiding from the freezing cold rain pelting from the sky. Spots of it darkening the greyish hoodie. The jeans below them.

[Lukas] "That's right," Lukas replies. His eyes are direct on Leyna, ignoring or simply not caring that she was bouncing on the cushions, playing with the napkins. "Forgive me. I met your friend, though. Sashenka?" A flick of those eyes, so pale, to Fabienne. "Another kinswoman of your tribe, in fact."

[Moira Murray] The Fenrir cadre seems to be joining Lukas and Fabienne, Moira takes the next available chair that would put her closest to Leyna and Max. She peels off her own coat and gloves, the scarf hanging loosely around her neck as she placed her gloves into a coat pocket and leaves it hanging over the back of the chair.

She leans her elbows on the table, folding her arms over each other and glances at the others. When the waitress comes to claim their orders, hers is a simple one. Regular coffee with lots of sugar and cream, nothing fancy about it at all.

She falls quiet, listening to Lukas take up conversation with Leyna, forgetting about Max completely until he does something to snare her attention.

[Max] There was a moment, when Moira reached out to pat his cheek, where the muscles along Max's body tensed, just slightly, and his nostrils flared. In this light, his eyes looked darker than usual. A little enigmatic. Outside, they'd been brighter. Almost yellow (wolf eyes). Still, the shadow made them no less intense, as he leveled his gaze on the kinswoman while she brushed past.

Whatever it was his instincts had wanted to do, he didn't follow them. This was a human establishment, and not a place for feral creatures. Instead, he merely arched his brows knowingly and followed the group inside. Once there, he pulled out a chair for himself and removed his coat, draping it across the back of the seat before he made himself comfortable. Beneath the outer layer, he had on a plain black t-shirt (something simple that hugged the taut curves of his torso) and a chain of large steel beads around his neck. When the server came to take their order, he'd ask for a cup of black coffee, and nothing more.

"Who claims you two?" he asked of Leyna and Moira (because these were good things to be aware of) as soon as a lull in the conversation occurred.

[Fabienne Bartelle] *Her coat is unbuttoned, but not removed. The Fang kin did not intend on chattering with a handful of get and a shadowlord for long. Enough time to have a coffee, as is polite, and she'll be on her way out the door and away from the anger pressing in on her from the ahrouns. An ugly vagrant of some variety slips through the door. Oh my but he was ghastly. Pale eyes lift to Andrew and then pointedly away from the object of offense. Mainly, his general person. Lukas' assertion that there was a kin named Sashenka about delivering her attention from the creature at the door. A quirk of lips in acknowledgement.*

I see. I'm certain we shall meet in due course. Thank you.

[Lukas] Lukas's laughter is a low, hushed thing, little more than an exhale. "Fabienne, are you going to thank me for every comment I make to you tonight?"

He catches sight of Andrew; nods the -- yes, admittedly, quite ugly -- Fostern over. "This is Andrew," he says to the gathering at large. Then, quieter, "A Fostern of the Children of Gaia, and a Theurge."

[Leyna Stidolph] She looks at Lukas with a proud smile when he mentions Sashenka. It was odd how those two could even be friends. Sashenka so prim and proper. Social and eloquent when speaking... then there was Leyna.. someone who couldn't tell the difference between a salad fork and a spoon.

She scratched the inside of her ear with her pinkie as she responded to Lukas. "Sashie.. yeah.. she said she met you and some others. I didn't recognize them." Her eyes roll to the back of her head for a moment as she scratches. "And it's nothing to apologize for Lukas-rhya. I am not someone that is memorable." Yet.

She quickly looks over at Max and very bluntly states, "The Eagles." Which even though there wasn't much left to them, Leyna wasn't going to bail out. Not after Joss had been so kind to her. Then there was Dances of Fire, he too had been good to her.

Her head glanced the way Fabienne's eyes were and saw the hooded figure, oh this was going to end just nicely. If there was one person who belonged in this place less then she did, it was Andrew. Though it made her chuckle a little out loud.

She was nothing but smiles seeing Andrew, even despite his face she didn't look away or cringe, only seemed to be pleased at the site of him, though doesn't say anything.

[Andrew] Wasting away in the streets of...Chicago. But he's found his way into this little cafe and his eyes have flickered under their hood and picked up some of the residents. And the knot of purebreeding gathered so tightly that he should immediately want to fuck something. His eyes flick over the gathered.

And he slides his way over to the little knot as though it was his intention the whole time. It ain't easy getting away with being unnoticed when you're as ugly as he is. Indeed, blending into a crowd can't be easy. But he's spent years studying humans and he pulls it off somehow. At long as that hood stays up.

Without saying a word, he glides to them and lowers himself into a chair. Preferably facing the door. Keeping the hood pulled down to keep his face in partial shadow. With a twist of his face, sent Leyna's way, that might have been a smile.

[Fabienne Bartelle] Would it suit you better were I to feign.... displeasure.... at *Grey eyes blink as she trails off as Andrew's introduced. She tilts her head towards Lukas, to be sure she didn't mishear that. This thing was a Child of Gaia? Well.. she supposed a being had every right to be scarred up when they refused to actively fight anything. This little gathering was growing more and more unpleasant by the second. Certainly next a bonegnawer would saunter through the door, smelling of trash and order a bowl of cardboard soup. Lips drag upwards into a tepid smile. Fostern, Trueborn, these things get civility, regardless.*

A pleasure to meet you Andrew. I am Fabienne Marie Bartelle. Kin of the Silverfangs.

*As though that little fact could possibly escape him. Regardless of his face, he appeared to still retain his eyes, afterall. Luckily her coffee arrives, and her attention can be devoted to that for a few moments. If only this was Japan. She could slurp her coffee with all due politeness and be out of here that much more quickly.*

[Max] Max glanced up when Andrew approached, nodding once as Lukas introduced the theurge. Another fostern. Not particularly appealing to look at (unlike the two ahrouns), but then, he didn't seem much to desire attention, so maybe that was a good thing. The string of introductions was getting a little tiresome, but once more, he offered: "Max. Full Moon. Fenrir. Cliath."

He was the lowest ranked garou here. Likely, that situation wasn't entirely to his liking, but he held up gamely enough for now. When the coffee arrived, he grabbed his cup and blew on it once, absently, before taking a long drink of the scalding, bitter liquid. The exercise was fairly pointless. Coffee held no nutritional value, and neither did the caffeine ever do much for him. Still, it was warmth on a cold day, and it was habit.

"Eagles, huh?" he responded to Leyna. "I'll remember that."

Then he glanced over at Lukas and Fabienne, and snorted out a half-suppressed laugh. "I think he'd rather you not fall all over yourself to kiss his feet, there, princess."

[Moira Murray] To Max - Moira's attention flickers to him when he asks about who warders them. She considers the answer very carefully, staying silent as Leyna bluntly states, "The Eagles." The two women, though, not really well-acquainted shared that one connection. Though, after the death of that pack's beta, she wasn't so sure where her alliances lay now.

Andrew's presence causes her to shut her mouth the moment she opens it, eyebrows drawn inward to scrutinize the Theurge carefully. Her nose wrinkles up a little, but she doesn't offer so much as a smile to him. She picks up her coffee cup, bringing it to her mouth and speaks over it to Max.

"Whomever the current Jarl is at the time wards Fenris' kin... and he'll need to with how many of us there are in Chicago that carry a heavy purity of the blood."

[Lukas] "It would suit me better," Lukas replies crisply, "if you didn't feign anything at all." Pause. "Or," smiling faintly, "fall to kiss my feet. Though I doubt that's what you were doing."

And then Andrew is sitting down, and Lukas -- and everyone else -- is shifting to make room. The tables here are small. The armchairs are large. It's a look; it's atmosphere, it's vibe and ambiance and whatever the hell places like this sell, because the coffee sure as hell isn't worth $8 black.

Nevertheless, it does arrive: whatever it is everyone's ordered. The mugs are ceramic, and square, and either charcoal grey or milky white. Very postmodern. Lukas nods at the waitress in thanks. She doesn't stay long. Too much rage in the area.

"Andrew-yuf. Heard about your packmates. I'm sorry. I never knew Curata well, but Joss was an honorable Garou and a very good Theurge. We'll miss her."

[Fabienne Bartelle] I kiss no ones feet. Please mind your tongue or hold it Mr. Brenner.

*She replies crisply, grey eyes falling to Max as a thin eyebrow raises. Calm, if proud. Max gets a polite smile, correction made with little malice. One didn't get angry at a mutt for peeing on the carpet.*

[Leyna Stidolph] "Rhya." She quickly quips at the Fang kin. "Andrew-rhya and Max-rhya." She moves her eyes up to look at the priss.. Her jaw set in place as her dark foreboding eyes grew hard. "Snub your nose too much Fang and your elders will remind you of your place." It just came out of no where. Strong and sharp. "You are not their superior. Remember your litany Miss..."

[Andrew] He only glances at the waitress and shakes his head when she comes over. Glad that the Rage in the area shoves her off proverbially, if not literally. He can go back to sitting there innocently while sirens shriek somewhere off in the distant icy night.

Moira's look earns her a placid return one from Andrew. Apparently he's not leaping at the chance to ward her. He certainly doesn't object about her, when she makes her comment about the Jarl. But he grunts softly and jerks his head to Leyna.

"The Jarl can ward you. She is mine." His voice is deep, rumbling like a rockslide. And he states it like it's a fact.

Then turns his head to Lukas. "Thanks. I did not know Curata well. Joss was a good rival."

[Lukas] Lukas's eyebrows hop up a notch, but the Shadow Lord doesn't interrupt; doesn't interfere. He watches, relaxed in his seat, perhaps a little amused.

Perhaps more than a little amused.

[Moira Murray] Moira's eyes cut upward to meet Andrew's and her gaze becomes sharp. Her mouth sets into a grim line. Her voice keeps to a level of casualness.

"If that is the case, Andrew-rhya. You'll need to take it up with the Fenrir. Leyna isn't simply yours to claim, Eagle kin or nay."

[Leyna Stidolph] She looks at Moira, canting her head to the side. "And I am not here for the Fenrir to piss on either." She said very simply. "There are plenty of Kin for the Fenrir to do well with. Plenty with good breeding. Joss was my ward, Joss is not dead. I have no ward outside of Andrew-rhya. If the Fenrir still wish to claim me as theirs and the Jarl wants me in his company, then Andrew-rhya will more then likely make an official challenge. Until then, my life and my concerns are just that. Mine." She said to Moira politely...enough.

"Please do not make the assumption that I do not have a mind of my own and that I can't speak for myself. I have no intentions of backing out on my tribe, but I do require that my fellow tribesmate and kin would not talk about me as if I am not sitting here."

[Andrew]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Max] "Hmm," he mused in response to Moira. "Interesting." But he didn't say anything more than that on the subject of Chicago's Jarl. Perhaps 'interesting' summed the matter up succinctly enough, in any case.

Before he could respond to Fabienne's comment, Leyna interjected on both his and Andrew's behalf. Max glanced at the formerly quiet kinfolk and cocked his head a little, blinking in what seemed like faint surprise (and possibly curiosity.) Then... he laughed. And it wasn't exactly a quiet laugh, either. Not the subtle amusement that Lukas exhibited. This was honest and direct, as Modi tended to be. (For better or worse.) "Better listen to the girl. Sounds like she's liable to claw one's face off."

And there was just a small hint of pride in that.

[Lukas] (block!)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 7, 9, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Andrew]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 3, 7, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Fabienne Bartelle] *That did get a sharpness of eyes. Leyna regarded imperiously. It was one thing to show due respect to a craggy faced Child of Gaia, or to put up with an impertinent Get. But a kin? Correcting her? Oh that would Hardly stand.*

Nor are you my superior, madam. You would do well to remember such. Thank you.

*Her eyes flick not to Andrew, But to the Get trueborn, as it was his priority to put a leash on his kin, not that of the scarred coggie. Then the Get speak again, and Fabienne's eyebrow arcs. A faint sigh. One could not expect manners when dealing with mongrels. She folds her hands precisely and watches the circus unfold around her. *

[Max] [block!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 4, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[Moira Murray] Dodge
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 1, 5, 6 (Failure at target 6) [WP]

[Lukas] [lemme get a post in!]

[Andrew] [Init? + 7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5

[Lukas] [all right, apparently no do-over with inits. i'm going to post. then if people want to take it to actual combat, we can init, find a mod, and go from there.]

Kin mouth off; Garou strike out.

Instantly, both Ahrouns move to block; between the two of them, Andrew's heavy fist is thwarted. Lukas holds onto the Theurge's forearm for a beat longer, then sits back.

"This is my favorite cafe," he says levelly, "and it's filled with humans. If you're absolutely certain you want to beat a kin of another tribe, Yuf, take her outside and do it."

[Fabienne Bartelle] [do we feel threatened? WP!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 5, 6, 6, 7, 7 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Andrew] He grunts. Pulls his arm back. Tucking the knuckles, already encrusted with someone else's blood, back into his lap. His eyes flick to Lukas. Because favorite cafes are more important.

He shrugs and goes back to being quiet. Maybe the other Get will keep his kin under control. And maybe he won't. And maybe Andrew doesn't care, or maybe he does. And maybe it's his moon, and he's not particularly happy at the moment. Or maybe it's something else.

[Leyna Stidolph] "No.. I am a kin with more manners then you." She said to Fabienne. "And more then willing to take you out back and show you how to bow properly to your superiors." There was a snarl in her tone. "I might not be greater then you, my heritage not as pure.. but like hell I will sit here and abide my tongue while you act like an uppity princess with your tampon in sideways." Her snarl turned into more like a growl. "You are not a superior here. You are nothing but a fucking mare with an ego complex."

She watches the interaction with Lukas, Max and Andrew.. Rage was high, the tension thick and Leyna was about ready to take a swing to.. just not at Moira. More like at Fabienne. She pulls back though and stands up grabbing her coat. She needed to get out of there before she did something like Andrew and made a scene..

"Thank you, Moira..." She said softly to the kinfolk. "And my apologies." She looked between the Garou and offered a nod. "Thank you for your presence and company." She bowed her head and turned away. Counting back from ten.

[Max] That was the danger with getting a bunch of garou and kin together in one place. Sometimes things got violent very quickly. Andrew sent a blow Moira's way, and both Max and Lukas dove forward to stop it. Lukas left things off with a warning (not in here, not with so many witnesses), but the Modi wasn't about to simply let the matter slide. New to the city or no. Cliath or no. Moira was Fenrir, and he was obligated to react.

His lips curled back in a silent snarl as he leveled a gaze at the theurge. "Outside. Umbral. Now."

[Lukas] Lukas watches until he is certain Andrew has left off. Then he turns to Moira. That Leyna and Fabienne are actively engaging one another is, for the most part, entirely off his radar.

"As for you, kinswoman, have the wits not to provoke a Garou over matters that aren't your business. Your input was unnecessary and unwise. A wolf of your tribe sits next to you. If he wanted to dispute claim on Leyna, he would have with or without your help. All you've managed to do -- "

as Max issues challenge to Andrew,

" -- is exacerbate an already tense situation."

[Fabienne Bartelle] Mr. Brenner. I understand tensions are running rather high at the moment. If you would be so kind as to allow me a suggestion?

*There is a beat. She's weathered Leyna's outburst with an air of calm. As though she expected such, and while she blinks at some of the more colorful language, her response is nothing but cordial, waiting for Max to say yay, or nay as to if he was in a state inclined to listen.*

[Andrew] He looks across the table blandly at Max. Appearing unmoved by the snarl or demands. In fact, he grins. The grin turned into something hideous and dangerous on that marred face of his. Words spoken simply. "If you like."

He rises to his feet. Turns and walks casually towards the Men's restroom. Deciding it's about as safe a place as any to go sliding over to the other side.

[Max] "No," he replied to Fabienne, flatly. And then Andrew was moving toward the restroom, and Max simply walked outside. The reflection in the windows would serve well enough, though he was not nearly so adept at crossing over as the theurge likely was. Regardless, he'd wait for Andrew there, assuming he didn't get stuck in the gauntlet on the way over.

[gnosis]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7 (Success x 1 at target 8) [WP]

[Moira Murray] Dangerous was a good word for how the situation has turned. Moira's words cut deeply enough to irate Andrew that it drives him to strike out at her. All she feels is a rush of air as the blow that would have landed squarely across her face is blocked. Leyna's speech to the dark-haired kin is blunt and sharp, stating just how she feels about the situation between her and Andrew.

She has no response for Leyna, not when her attentions have been turned on Fabienne, who she had a distinct desire to punch. She sits back in her chair, the coffee cup set down as she leans back as far as she can. Her eyes rolling shut as Max declares a challenge to Andrew.

"Don't -" She starts to say to Max, but stops herself, opening her eyes to turn them on Lukas.

Mouth presses into a thin line, an eyebrow lifted as her expression becomes unreadable with his words. "And so I am corrected, sir, you are right that it shouldn't be a matter of my concern. How stupid of me to think so."

[Lukas] (lie detector!)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 4 (Botch x 2 at target 6)

[Andrew] [Gnosis]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 5, 6, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Fabienne Bartelle] As you like.

*She concedes. She can't force sense on the Get. There are those that might say such a thing was impossible. Fabienne knew better. The Beserkers weren't mindless. Just nearly so. Speak in small concise words and don't confuse the issue, and they generally came around. A tsk and a sip of coffee as the Get and the Coggie go elsewhere to have a grudge match over Leyna, or some other such matter. A glance to Lukas, as if to say "What is one to do?"*

[Lukas] There's no such thing as an unreadable expression. There is, however, such a thing as a grotesque misreading.

After a beat or so, Lukas's pale eyes relent. He shakes his head once. "Self-pity doesn't suit a kinswoman of the Fenrir," he says, and then watches Max and Andrew disappear into the men's room.

When he turns back around, he addresses Fabienne. "What were you going to suggest?"

[Moira Murray] [Perception + Empathy: Is that how you really feel about me, Lukas?]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
to Lukas

[Lukas] [modding, will be slow!]

[Moira Murray] Moira simply nods her head once at Lukas' comment about self-pity, down casting her eyes and keeping them centered on her coffee. She clears her throat once, deciding to finish off its contents as quickly as possible, while she knew a shit storm was going on somewhere.

She sighs, realizing that Leyna had indeed left. Moira quickly gathers up her coat to yank it on and scoots out of her chair. She pauses for a moment, fishing into her pockets for a small wad of bills and leaves it on the table, without another glance to Lukas or Fabienne, she quickly hurries out the door in search of the other fenrir kin.

[Fabienne Bartelle] Mm? That Mr. Brenner speak to his kin privately, and that Andrew enjoy a coffee or some such, whilst the issue was sorted. Alas, It would seem tempers have won the day. Regrettable.

*She gestures idly with a delicate hand. deceptively delicate, there are thin callouses on the pads of her palm, indicative of labor or some variety of repetitive grip. The silverfang kin tips her head to Moira as she hurries off, before taking a sip of her blended coffee. Ever polite and collected in the face of what was boiling into an epic clusterfuck.*

[Lukas] "Moira," Lukas calls after her, "if you find your tribeswoman, you should wait. Max is fighting for what he perceives as your honor. You owe him the respect of tending his wounds, if he has any."

(*punts that out for moira, now posts for fabienne*)

[Leyna Stidolph] Leyna had left and gone, seething with anger. She hadn't gotten that far, slipping across the street into the alley just to vent off steam.. on the only thing she had.. a garbage can. She would have rather it be the Fang kin, but Leyna didn't want to cause waves.. She told herself this.

She was going to watch her tongue. Going to be a good. No more attitude, no more anything. Just mind her own business and do her thing. No.. she just had to mouth off... but that fucking Fang had no right talking to the Garou as if she was their equal. None.

She snarled and growled as she slammed the trash can against the side of brick buildings, not caring if anyone was watching her. They should be fortunate it wasn't them.

[Lukas] And then there were two.

Despite the violence that had nearly erupted, despite the Shadow Lord's request which was closer to a demand, despite the fact that almost everyone has stormed off either to fight or to flee, Lukas and Fabienne are still putting on an excellent show of having a friendly chat over coffee.

Well; the coffee part is genuine. Lukas is enjoying his. This is, after all, his favorite place. When he sets his cup down he replies, "Max is a Fenrir full-moon and Andrew is packed with Fenrir and Fianna. I'm not surprised it came to blows.

"Regardless, Max is not the Fenrir tribal leader. Kemp is. So in the end, it's Kemp Andrew will have to square with."

Fabienne gestures with her hands often; never flamboyantly or even obtrusively, but noticeably; elegantly. After the latest flourish of her graceful hand, Lukas abruptly reaches out -- gentle, but quite quick -- and catches her hand. His thumb grazes the callouses curiously. Then he lets go.

"You know how to handle a sword," he says. He sounds the way he had at the beginning of all this: surprised; pleased. "I didn't realize the Fangs allowed their kinswomen martial education."

[Moira Murray] She stops, barely getting a few feet away from the table before pivoting on her boot heels to regard the Shadow Lord. She stares at him curiously, wondering if he knew something about her that she did not think he would know. So close to a hidden truth he was mentioning.

"I will be equally grateful to Max for what he is doing for me, sir, that I can promise you. If he bears wounds - " which she can only guess if he might, "I would do so."

With that, Moira is turning to leave again this time to find Leyna. She steps out the door, trying to ignore the blistering cold rain as she pulls her coat closed. The sounds of a trash can slamming up against a building snare her attention. She follows the noise, crossing the street and rounding the corner to stand in the mouth of the alley.

"Leyna?"

[Leyna Stidolph] She throws the trash can and breathes as Moira calls out her name. It wasn't like Leyna to throw a tantrum, it wasn't in her nature to do so. However with all the pent up emotions of late, the loneliness and the lack of things for her to do.. she really had nothing to release any stress or frustration.

Blood dripped from her calloused hands as she turned to look at Moira. "Forgive me. I did not mean to embarrass you, or insult you." She spoke softly, keeping her head down and placing her hands behind her back.

[Fabienne Bartelle] *A calmness, a greater sense of ease from Fabienne, now that there are no noisy and quarellsome Get fussing and blowing and winking and being.. gauche. More relaxed and approachable - a sensation briefly and entirely ruined when Lukas catches her wrist, however lightly. Light eyes flash to his in sudden and direct challenge. Unwise, but then, she is a very purebred young lady. Perhaps there is a reason why she has those callouses, despite what custom generally dictates. A breath before a forced calm settles about her shoulders. A quirk of a smile, gradual and carefully constructed.*

So long as it is seemly, such things are permitted. I fence, both classically and after the olympic style. Regrettably, gloves can only do so much to spare the hands. Forgive me.

[Moira Murray] "I think I am the one who should be apologizing and asking forgiveness. I may have overstepped my bounds in what I said to Andrew. I wasn't trying to provoke that reaction out of him, but knowing a little of his nature.... I am not surprised he did it."

She steps into the alley, her footfalls echoing against the brick and asphalt, head tilting to the side as she watches the tension bleed off of the woman. Leyna's voice soft, her head down. "You were right. It isn't my business if there is something going on between you and Andrew. I just know that the others, if they caught wind of it, wouldn't like it and there would be more fighting over kinfolk."

[Lukas] Surely he expected surprise, or even fear, or even challenge. He saw the way she sat, spoke, handled herself; he saw her snap -- however politely, however mildly -- at Leyna for suggesting that she was kissing another's feet.

And when her eyes fly to his in challenge, the Shadow Lord is staring right back at her, his gaze level and unflinching; even expectant.

Ah. Something of a test, then. An assessment of strength and will, perhaps.

Then her hand is her own again and he's sitting back and she's explaining the callouses and he's laughing, wry. "What exactly is there to forgive, Fabienne? Who on earth taught you that the appropriate response to anything a Garou says is 'thank you' or 'I'm sorry'?"

Now that it's spoken, there's little humor in it after all. It's rather pitiful, actually. Lukas's smile fades. He stirs his espresso, shot with cognac. And sips.

[Fabienne Bartelle] You are quite a literal gentleman, Lukas.

*Now its Fabienne's turn for wry amusement. Did the poor dear think she was being sincere in her apologies? Her tone remains nothing if not polite, but its grey eyes that light with dry amusement. She too dips her head to her beverage.*

[Lukas] "That was an actual question, Fabienne," Lukas replies evenly. "Who taught you that every little kindness must be thanked and every conceivable flaw must be apologized for?"

[Leyna Stidolph] She shakes her head, "There is nothing going on between Andrew and I." She said to Moira. "Not like that anyways." She said to her completely honest. "I just..." She took a deep breath. "don't want to uproot myself from another home." She leaned against the brick wall, clenching her fists and shoving them into her pockets.

She chuckles slightly. "Not yet anyways, but I am starting to see that is going to be an issue I am going to have to deal with sooner or later." She breathed out heavily. "You have every right to be in my affairs.. you are my kinsmate and you are only looking out for what's in my best interest and the interest of the tribe."

[Moira Murray] The corners of her mouth crook up a little, "I am looking out for you, because you are my kinsmate and because of Joss." Her steps continue to echo as she approached the other kin, arms relaxed at her sides as she fished her hands into the pockets of her coat for her gloves.

She stops, taking the time to put them on and adjusts them around her fingers. "If you are really worried about being uprooted, I can try to help you find another place to stay, if you don't want to stay in the pack house. I know Sandman doesn't go there often anymore and Andrew lives there now. Decker used to... stay at the other pack house by the caern..."

Moira sighs, if a bit wistfully, "We are alike - in that I am - maybe was an Eagle kin. I have been with the pack for a long time, before Andrew ever joined. Most of the kin bound to it have moved on, just like the Garou do."

[Lukas] (*coughs* misunderstood tone. DLPx2!)

[Lukas] Surely he expected surprise, or even fear, or even challenge. He saw the way she sat, spoke, handled herself; he saw her snap -- however politely, however mildly -- at Leyna for suggesting that she was kissing another's feet.

And when her eyes fly to his in challenge, the Shadow Lord is staring right back at her, his gaze level and unflinching; even expectant.

Ah. Something of a test, then. An assessment of strength and will, perhaps.

Then her hand is her own again and he's sitting back and she's explaining the callouses and his laugh is a scoff. "It's wholly unnecessary to affect apologies out of politeness, Fabienne, just as it's unnecessary to affect gratitude.

"Do you compete?"

[Leyna Stidolph] She shrugs her shoulders. "I like the pack house. Then again I am simple and don't require a lot of attention. I keep mostly to myself unless there is something that requires my attention. Lately that has been nothing." She spoke to Moira, Leyna had felt utterly useless. The blacksmith had nothing to do to occupy her time, especially now that Curata was dead.

"Andrew has been good to me." She said to Moira. "Respectful and decent." Which he has been, "I have been moving around so much.. and I am just tired." Her tone was somber, but she was having a hard time explaining herself. She didn't know how too really. "I am not so good with explaining things."

[Andrew] It's not long before they come back. Andrew has rinsed out his mouth. Showing up among humans with blood all over your face wasn't proper. They often got alarmed. It still hung around in the crevices of his teeth however. He took that chance to also rinse off the blood from his knuckles in the sink.

He pushes his way out of the bathroom. Walking back to the table and noticing the two Fenrir kin are missing. He hopes they weren't snatched by someone else while he was fighting the Fenrir. He'll have to hunt them down soon. Though hunting down Leyna was a bitch.

He pulls out his seat and sits back down again. Looking calmly from Lukas to Fabienne.

[Fabienne Bartelle] So noted.

*Unnecessary, so sayeth the Shadowlord. Alas, he'd never met her Uncle. She accepts Lukas's comment with little fuss, setting her drink down as he inquires further of her.*

I do. Not as of late however, I've been abroad. There was a time when I was courted for a spot on the Olympic team, however I thought it rather unseemly. Have you any prowess with a blade yourself?

[Moira Murray] "What is it exactly that you do for a profession if I may ask?" Moira avoids any further questions about Andrew. Her dislike for the Coggie is evident, but she decides to turn the conversation elsewhere.

Even now, her thoughts weren't completely there, her mind wandering with concern to the fight that was taking place somewhere the kin couldn't get to. She sucks in a deep breath, letting it roll out of her mouth in a small mist on the chilly air. "That pack house will need someone to tend to it with Joss gone, but perhaps you can help me while you are living there. Kemp has asked me to see to it that her parents get word of her death, I thought maybe sending her personal things back would be proper, if there's anything left to send after the funerals."

[Fabienne Bartelle] *The hideous Child of Gaia tromps back in their midst, and Fabienne casts a glance to his face briefly as he sits down. Yes. He was still unfathomably grotesque.*

[Leyna Stidolph] "I am a blacksmith." She said to Moira, crossing her arms with a sigh. "I can see what I can do to pack up some of Joss' things if you like. It would only be proper whatever is left over goes to her family. Perhaps even Curata's things should be packed up as well and delivered to his family." She said with a nod, being ever so considerate of the dead.

"I can tend to the other things while I am staying there. Make sure it is clean and repairs are made when needed."

[Moira Murray] "An honorable profession." She muses thoughtfully, smiling at Leyna in appreciation. "I don't know anything about Curata, so I cannot help there. I am only doing as asked of me, but I thank you for the assistance."

[Lukas] Seemly. Unseemly. Thank you. Forgive me. Words and concepts that a Silver Fang's existence is littered with; ideas that Shadow Lords never bother with. Their existence is simpler: worth it. Not worth it. Strong. Weak.

This one, though, at least wears a human mask with reasonable adeptness. He chides Fabienne for fabrications and affectations, when everything about him now is both. He is not polite; he is not courteous. He is not human. He is savage and calculating; he is honorable and, some would say, a good Garou -- but he is a wild and deadly animal. He has killed more things than could fit in the whole of this cafe, even if they were stacked like firewood.

And yet: there he sits, drinking his espresso.

"Some," he replies. "My mentor gave me a blade that one of my ancestors wielded and taught me the use of it. A longsword, though; not fencing. I'd ask you if you wanted to spar," the corner of his mouth pulls up, "but I would be very embarrassed when I lost."

Here comes Andrew. Lukas's pale eyes flick over the Eagle. His very stance says he won. "Congratulations," offers Lukas. "The Fenrir had a point, though. You should check with their Jarl before you lay claim to their blood-kin. You're carrying on the will of a fallen Fenrir packmate; I doubt he'll deny you."

[Leyna Stidolph] "Really anything to help." She said to Moira. "I can't sit idly." She shrugged her shoulder slightly. "Not really.. having something to do is better then nothing at all." She jacks a thumb at the restaurant. "That.. that is from having nothing to do. If I am working, I don't lose my temper as much, because I am too busy to care what some trollop has to say."

[Max] It was never an easy thing for either an ahroun or a Fenrir to accept defeat. Especially not if one happened to be both. But when combat was as much a part of life as breathing, you learned, eventually, to accept these bitter realities. Andrew was a Fostern, and he had the benefit of a powerful totem on his side. (He didn't exactly play fair, either, but then, life wasn't fair, and Max wasn't a philodox.)

When he reappeared in the physical realm, it was off to the side of the restaurant, in an alley way, and he looked less the worse for wear than he would have had the theurge not healed him, but there was still an ample amount of blood coating his clothes, and open wounds in both his side and his shoulder. When his eyes looked up, he spotted Moira and Leyna.

He seemed irritated at first. He was never all that good at masking his emotions, but since the irritation wasn't directed at the kin, eventually he managed to smooth out the crease of anger that had taken residence on his features and approach them.

"I swear, kin are more trouble than they're worth," he muttered a bit, but there wasn't any real malice in it.

[Moira Murray] "Have you considered --" Moira's words are cut off as soon as she feels the edges of Max's presence filling up the alley that the pair stood in. She turns immediately, Lukas' words coming back to her all of a sudden.

Moira breathes in a heavy intake of air and expels it out in relief, "Thank Gaia you're still alive." Her eyebrows furrow together as she accesses the damage on Max, starting to approach him. "How badly are you hurt still?"

[Fabienne Bartelle] *Lukas is given a subtly amused curve of her lips, another dainty sip of blended coffee, the last of it disappearing as she sets it back on its coaster with measured precision. As it appears the fosterns have business to discuss, she glances at her watch and dips her head. Voice casually decorous, subtitles of such no doubt mostly lost on the two garou before her.*

Do excuse me gentleman. I must away. I believe I've had quite my share of excitement this evening. A pleasure meeting you both.

*That said, she waits for any abject objections before buttoning her coat and making to stand and pay.*

[Fabienne Bartelle] [[subtlies! Not subtitles. Thanks for nuffin spellcheck!]]

[Leyna Stidolph] She turned and looked at Max, her first instinct was to check for wounds. However she was looking at any indication that Andrew was hurt, by the way he was carrying himself and the lack of cockiness in his stance and attitude proved to her without a shadow of a doubt that Andrew was fine. Being though Max was fine... Leyna took a deep breath.

Leyna brought out her bowie knife and sliced a good portion of her own shirt off, listening to him gripe and moan.. with Moira worried about his wounds. "What doesn't kill him makes him stronger." She said to Moira as she walked over to Max as well and took the clean pieces of her shirt handed them to Max. "Dress your wounds and you should probably duck somewhere to shift and heal." She grunted, "Glad you did not die, Max-rhya."

[Andrew] He glances over at Lukas. Grunts. Then shrugs. "Who's in charge now?" A serious question. The Fenrir had been rearranging who was in charge a lot lately. But he wasn't particularly worried about it. He didn't worry much about whether or not he could over come an obstacle. He generally assumed he could, and if he was wrong, so what?

[Lukas] As Fabienne stands to leave, Lukas sets his cup down and rises as well. It's all done so smoothly, so unhurriedly, that one might almost miss the easy grace and swiftness of it.

Whether he's mocking Fabienne's finishing-school manners or displaying genuine etiquette, however, is up to the Fang kin to decipher. Either way, he nods to her as she leaves, and then takes his seat again.

"I have no idea," he replies to Andrew. "I'd start with Truth in Frenzy. He holds eldership by rank, if nothing else."

[Max] "I'll be fine," he tried to wave off Moira's concern with an absent gesture of his hand. Leyna was another matter, and he leveled a gaze at her that was a bit... unreadable. Maybe just attempting to understand what her motivations were (or where her loyalties lay.) After a moment of consideration, he drew back from her as well. Her offer of bits of fabric went ignored.

"That is exactly what I plan on doing. I'm not fucking dense." Previous behavior may have implied otherwise, of course, but he was at least intelligent enough to understand how to heal a wound. His mood was not exactly stable, at the moment, and it showed in the way that anger flashed quickly across his eyes.

"I just wanted to make sure you were both okay."

[Andrew] He nods curtly. Glancing between Fabienne and Lukas as they do their weird little courtly gestures of standing up and sitting down and good byes. It's all very strange to him, so he says nothing and merely sits. Waiting.

With Lukas' reply, he grunts in acknowledgment. "Where'd the kin go?" Glancing around for emphasis.

[Lukas] "Outside, I think. Go see to them if you want. I'll drink my coffee in peace." A faint smirk to take the edge off, "I'm sick of your ugly face, anyway."

If Andrew does indeed stand to follow the kin, though, Lukas adds as he's walking past -- "Hey, Andrew?" A beat; long enough for the scarred Theurge to look around. "It's good to see you're still alive. We've been losing a lot of good warriors lately."

[Moira Murray] Moira deliberately ignores Max's comment about being fine. She advances on him anyway, just as he steps back from Leyna's approach. He wasn't going to like what she was about to do to him. Features set in a stern expression, Moira steps up to the Modi's side, blocking any further chance for him to get away.

"We are fine." She replies, "Just hold still for a second, please, Max." She nearly growls at him, shaking her head as Moira reached out to touch him, which is all it took.

[Leyna Stidolph] Hence why she wanted him to go duck somewhere and heal, he was an Ahroun who just lost and at any moment he could have a temper tantrum. Of course she just dropped the fabric and shrugged her shoulders. Whatever. She wasn't going to fight him or argue with him. Not worth it. Not worth her getting her ass kicked.

She stuffed her bloody knuckles back into her pocket and took a step back with her eyes down. Hell with that. Moira can deal with him.. Leyna was going to just stay away,

[Andrew] He nods. Rises from his chair and glances back at Lukas. First at the ugly face comment. But he was used to that. Heard that plenty. And it was almost a thing of pride, how hideous he was. But the more serious comment, makes him pause. Then he lets out a sigh. "I'm think Gaia maybe won't take me. So I'm stuck here for a while."

Then he turns and heads out the door.

[Lukas] [thanks for the scene, folks! i'ma watch here, but i'm done posting]

[Leyna Stidolph] (Good! hehe)

[Moira Murray] "I'm done."

It is all Moira says. She drops her hand away from Max, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinizes the closure of aggravated wounds that begin to heal on their own accord after she touched him. He may or may not realize what she just did to him, but the Modi had only blood and torn clothing to show that he had been in a fight at all.

She steps away, beginning to turn for the alley. Leyna has fallen back to ducking her head down and not looking up. She may have missed the magic trick if she wasn't paying attention. "He's healed. I'm going home."

[Max] Moira advanced on him, and she was correct in thinking that he wasn't going to react well to what she had planned. At first, he simply snarled a bit and looked at her as if she'd grown a third eye. Muscles tensed when she entered his space. When she touched him. And he did pull back, despite her request, but it wasn't until after she'd had a chance to do what she'd wanted to do. Like magic, the wounds on his body knitted themselves together, and Max just... blinked in confusion.

Kin... couldn't do that.

Could they?

Too surprised, at first, to think of getting angry or indignant, he looked down at his healed wounds, then at Moira's retreating form. He huffed out a breath in disbelief, then frowned. Finally he simply gave the entire night up as a lost cause where his pride was concerned, and jogged to catch up with the kinswoman. He fell in at her side, and was silent for a moment, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"You didn't need to do that."

[Leyna Stidolph] Leyna waved off Moira and just stood there in that alley. Not moving. Why? Because she was a bit afraid too. As long as she was alone, no trouble could happen. She whistled softly as Max ran off, rocking on her feet gently.

Did she notice what happened just there? Yep. She noticed. Was she going to say anything? Nope. In fact she was going to sneak off in the other direction.

[Andrew] Andrew glanced up and down the street. Then wandered down a ways and looked down the alley. Seeing Leyna standing there with Max and Moira heading away. He starts towards her. No apparent wounds on him. Just the sleeting ice coming down on him.

[Moira Murray] Moira doesn't get very far, a few feet at most, before she finds Max jogging after her to keep up. She glances at him for a moment, and then looks back over her shoulder for a second to see Leyna sneaking off and doesn't say anything.

She keeps forward, taking Max with her. One slender eyebrow rose up curiously at him, "It is my duty as a kinfolk to do such. We are losing Garou faster than we can keep them." Moira looks at him, "So, please do not take offense or have an injured pride that I healed you. There will be many more opportunities for you to see battle I am sure of it."

She won't tell him that she doesn't expect him to live long, just shakes her head a little and continues walking, pulling her coat closed around her body to keep out the icy rain that pelts them.

[Leyna Stidolph] Leyna was still all sorts of irritated, especially when she was just snapped at by another Fenrir. It wasn't that happened, but hell... when it did it made her pissy. She kicks cans out of her way as she walks, unaware yet again of anyone else. Why should she care? She was soaking wet, cold and pissed off. Everyone else could get bent.

Except Moira.. she was okay.

[Leyna Stidolph] (grammar fail!)

[Andrew] He took a couple of quick steps to catch up to Leyna. And reached out and gave her shoulder a playful shove. "Hey." His rumbling voice hard to mistake.

[Max] Moira pointed out the inevitability of future chances to prove himself in combat (or die trying), and Max smirked. "Oh, I don't doubt that." He was silent for a moment as he let his thoughts bounce around in his head, and unlike Moira, he didn't attempt to huddle down into his (now torn) clothes to escape the inclement weather. Much like the injuries he'd taken in the fight, he simply tolerated the inconvenience.

"I wasn't going to bite your head off. Just stating a fact. I would have been fine."

And then, after another pause, he added, "Thanks, I guess. Since it's done. Do you need a ride home?"

[Leyna Stidolph] She stopped suddenly and let out a low rumbling growl as she turned to look at Andrew. It was odd how inhuman a homid could look. Her upper lip curled back as her forehead knitted together. She didn't look so happy. Every muscle in her body was tense, ready to lunge out and attack. Savage... uncivilized.

When she realized it was him though, her shoulders eased down. Her tongue came out and licked her lips, like how most wolves lick their nostrils in frustration. She snorted from her nose in the same fashion. "Congratulations on your victory." She grunted out.

[Andrew] He grins briefly. A wide flashing smile of teeth. Victory indeed. Although, it shouldn't be such a big deal ambushing and trouncing a claith. Even if it was an Ahroun and a Fenrir. But he shrugs and seems more interested in Leyna.

"What you so mad at cub?" And he reaches out and gives her another push.

[Moira Murray] There was a part of her that was about to refuse his offer of a ride home, but the bad weather was vastly changing that thought. She nods her head, stretches up a hand to brush aside a lock of hair that sweeps across her eyes, tucking it back behind the outer shell of her left ear.

Remembering what Lukas had said to her, she wrinkles up her nose, sniffling. Her voice grows soft as she mumbles, "Sure, I'll take the ride if it gets me out of this weather faster." She offers him a small smile, "And thanks for what you did back there."

[Leyna Stidolph] She grunts at the push, "Moira was only defending me. Yes she shouldn't have spoken out like that, but was only expressing concern for my well being." She said to Andrew, "Moving to hit her was not wise." She looked away for a moment and then growled. "The lack of honor agitates me." It was the best explanation she had for it. "And I know, I have no right to speak of these things. It is not my place." It really wasn't, but she had a hard time keeping her mouth shut when she was angry.

"Fang kin is going to find herself swallowing her teeth for the way she speaks to Garou."

[Andrew] He snorts. Suddenly frowning. Irritated. "She was disrespectful. Defending you or no. She needed to be disciplined. Her tribemate took the punishment for her." Then he snorts and grins at her at the last comment. Seeming to find it amusing. Not in the laughing at her way. But sort of. Maybe laughing at her attitude. Or something else entirely. He finds it amusing though.

[Max] He shrugged, as if slightly uncomfortable with the gratitude. He hadn't won, after all, so nothing had been accomplished. Still, he'd made the attempt, because his anger had gotten the better of him. It was as much of a perceived insult to him as it had been a threat to Moira, and that was probably the heart of the matter, knowing Fenrir pride. Still, Max was behaving somewhat protectively now, so maybe not.

She accepted his ride, so he'd lead them back to the garage where he'd parked his truck, then take her wherever she directed him before heading back to his temporary crash space.

[Leyna Stidolph] She glowered slightly at Andrew... then turned on her feet and started walking. She was cold, wet.. and needed a shower... and to drink to make her happy again. Curata's whiskey is still in the cupboard... she was so stealing it. Not like he was going to need it. She would save him some for his departure.. but the rest.. the rest she was drinking until she was comfortably numb.

[Andrew] He let out a sigh. He wasn't great at cheering people up. Maybe if he poked and prodded her some more, she'd stop being mad at him. He took a few quick steps to catch up and paced along beside her. Eventually throwing his arm over her shoulder. Was he trying to get her to hit him? Maybe. He'd probably laugh about it. But right now, he was pestering her and enjoying it.

[Leyna Stidolph] She shrugged off his arm, growling slightly. It was a warning. She was not in a playful mood and did not want to be touched. Of course it would probably do nothing but encourage his behavior and Leyna was doing her best not to be too disrespectful and rude, but she was only so strong.

[Andrew] He grinned broader as she pushed away from him irritably. "What? You wanna punch something? Punch me." Reaching out and pushing her again. Playfully, mostly. Then throwing his arm around her again.

[Leyna Stidolph] She shrugs him off, "No.. I do not punch Garou." She said which was only half true. She didn't punch them...unless they deserved it. Like if they came up to her and started to beating her with no reason, like hell she was just going to stand there and take it.

[Andrew] He snorts. "Like you're gonna hurt me." Letting out a bark of a laugh. "I'll get back up."

[Leyna Stidolph]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 5, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6) [WP]

[Leyna Stidolph]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Andrew]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Leyna Stidolph] She reels back her fist when he starts laughing at her and punches him. She didn't know why she did it, she just did... and the moment her fist connected, she went wide eyed. She knew at that moment she was fucked. Ready to get into that position, huddled up and waiting to get her ass handed to her.

[Andrew] His head jerked to one side. But it snapped back towards her and he let out another bark of a laugh. Reaching out and giving her a shove. Grinning. "See?!"

[Leyna Stidolph] She had reflexively placed her hands over her face... waiting to get beat.. and instead.. Andrew went back to laughing at her. She didn't know why, but him laughing at her.. was just making things worse.

Her fists clenched again, but instead of punching him again she just started walking. Yes because walking solved everything.

[Andrew] He chuckles softly and follows after her. Jogging for a moment to catch up with her. Coming up behind her and throwing his arms around her. It seems hostile at first, but then he just squeezes her gently back against him. Putting his chin on her shoulder.