what can we do.

[Genevre de Provence] ((while waiting for Damon))

Once more, after a few hours of debating herself, she finds herself at the Brotherhood via a taxi. She also made sure to bring along Lukas' and Danicka's gifts to save a trip. She had her black overcoat on over a pair of black slacks and silver silk button up.

[Gabriella Bellamonte] [Watch? Shoot, come play! :P]
to breeze, Genevre de Provence, Lukas

[Genevre de Provence] ((Watch or play, it's open))
to breeze, Gabriella Bellamonte, Lukas

[Lukas] Two days before Christmas, and Lukas's twenty-fourth birthday. The Brotherhood is still open to the public tonight, and this is the middle of the dinner rush. The dining room is packed, the noise audible whether Genevre enters from the front or the rear.

Either way, she won't miss Lukas. He's sitting in the kitchen, hunkered over a bowl of hearty winter stew. A copy of the Economist is folded open in front of him. He eats and reads quietly amidst the bustle of the kitchen staff, not minding when they accidentally jostle him on the way past, laden serving platters in hand.

[Genevre de Provence] Genevre came in the front and was quickly assaulted by the noise. She clenched the bag in her hand that held the two wrapped presents for her.....well her friends.

She slipped carefully between people and tables and made her way to the kitchen. She was about to head up the stairs til she saw Lukas sitting in the kitchen. There was some relief, but not much. Such crowding made her alittle uneasy.

She smiled as she came up to the table. "Bonjour, mon ami. I am non disturbing you, non?"

[Lukas] Lukas finishes his sentence and then looks up. His spoon is balanced in hand, half-forgotten. The Shadow Lord smiles faintly when he sees Genevre.

"Not particularly. Here for dinner?"

[Genevre de Provence] She looked around, seeing the hussle and bussle. She was use to more 4 star places. "Depends, is zee food 'ere any good?"

She slipped into a chair across from Lukas, and put the bag up on the table. "Zese are for you and Danicka, for Christmas. But zat is non why I am 'ere. I need your advice."

[Gabriella Bellamonte] Gabriella Bellamonte didn't have an agenda this evening, not much of one anyways. She had been idling about the Loft for what felt like the second month straight when she decided that she was due for a trip back to The Brotherhood of Thieves. She'd left the room she'd been occupying there a little while ago, but still had some things that she'd left jammed up on the top shelf of what had been her side of the closet. Some paints, a few books, a bundle of clothes.... Those types of odds and ends.

So she got in her car, a modest little dark blue Audi, and drove across town toward the restaurant/hostel she once called home.

She parked near the edge of the parking lot, out of the way of potential customers, and moved around the building and into the back alley. A glance was cast up and down, to make sure that no one was going to sneak up behind her and giggle 'oogie-boogie' in her ear for kicks and giggles, then entered through the back entrance and into the kitchen, a swirl of snow pulling into the building with her when the door was opened. Her coat and skirt swished about at her hip and thigh, and with a quiet 'oomph' noise, she pushed the door closed behind her.

Her hair was tossed about by the wind, and Gabbie raked her fingers through it to drag it back out of her face, tame the long light-bronze locks until she could see through them again. Genevre and Lukas were easy to spot, being the only two that didn't feel like they were moving a hundred miles an hour in response to the dinner rush. Her head tipped to the side, just a little, and her hand settled near her neck, fingers still lost in her hair because she had nowhere better to put them. Low heeled boots clicked quietly on the tile floor as she approached.

"Genevre," she greeted politely, then flashed a pearly smile at Lukas, one that felt just a tiny bit pinched at the edges. "Happy Birthday."

[Genevre de Provence] She looked up and smiled to Gabbie. "Bonjour, Gabriella. Pleasure to see you again."

[Lukas] "Thank you, Genevre." Lukas takes the gifts, looking genuinely pleased. "That's very considerate of you."

And, to Gabriella, laughing, "That's not for another two days, Gabbie. But thank you."

Three around the small table in the midst of the dinner rush is getting to be a bit much, and the staff is starting to give them dirty looks. Lukas stands up, picking up his magazine in one hand, his stew in the other. "Let's go upstairs and get out of Reuben's hair," he says. "And, the food's quite excellent here, actually. Try the herb-rubbed rack of lamb."

[Genevre de Provence] She stood, taking the bag for Lukas and following. "'Ad I known it was your birzday, I would 'ave gotten you another gift." She looked around the kitchen once more. "I may 'ave to one night, just out of curiosity, if you say zey 'ave lamb 'ere."

[Lukas] So they relocate upstairs, the three of them tromping up the stairwell in file, Lukas's footfalls decidedly heavier than the women's.

"It's all right," he says over his shoulder, "I'm rather used to getting one big present every year. Always a danger for being born close to the holidays."

In the common room, Lukas sets up at the sectional, taking his favored spot on the long arm close to the corner. "So," he says, "what'd you want to want about, Genevre?"

[Gabriella Bellamonte] "Yeah, well, I figured I'd get it out early. No doubt you've arrangements of your own for the day."

Her shoulders rolled in a shrug under the heavy black fabric of her winter coat, and fingers moved to undo the double buttons across her breast and stomach, pulling the garment open to better ventilate now that she was out of the blustering cold of the windy night. Under her coat she wore a soft sweater in a mild tone of green, almost a pine color but a little bit lighter, with a necklace that let a single pink-tinged pearl rest at her neck. Expensive, no doubt, but hardly as flashy as she could have gone.

Reuben was glaring, Lukas was done with his stew, so they decided to go upstairs. This was where Gabbie was going anyways, so she'd wait for Genevre to start climbing the staircase before following up after them. She would still off to the side of the stairwell entrance, hands in her pockets and shoulders pressed to the wall. Genevre wanted to talk to Lukas, and her light eyebrows lifted, gaze shifted over to Genevre for the moment. "Would you like privacy?"

[Genevre de Provence] She set the bag next to Lukas, then found a spot to sit herself. She pulled off her coat and laid it neatly over the back of the sectional.

"I am ....'ow you say, in a pickle? Between duty and mon own honour. So I need advice, and I do non wish to burden Lady Kazerine once more."

[Genevre de Provence] She looked to Gabbie and shook her head. "Non, stay. You could possibly 'elp as well. I zink."

[Lukas] Lukas isn't quite done with his stew yet; he'd brought it with him. The Economist is tossed on the coffee table, though. The Shadow Lord leans back on the couch, putting a foot up on the edge of the table as he brings the bowl to his mouth.

"What on earth is this 'Lady' Katherine stuff?" Lukas says, bemused, amused. "Did she tell you to call her that? My god." Nevertheless, he gestures for Genevre to go on.

[Gabriella Bellamonte] Genevre said for her to stay, suggested that she could be of some help, and her eyebrows lifted a little bit, a touch curious, a touch skeptical. Clear blue eyes skipped over to Lukas, an expression of questioning flashed over the freckled mantle of her face, then she shrugged her coat off the rest of the way and folded it over her arms so that she was holding it in front of her stomach, covering up the majority of her slate gray skirt.

Go on, her posture said.

[Genevre de Provence] She shrugged. "Iz just being polite since she 'as offered me a place to stay."

She looked to them both, still not too sure about Gabbie. She had her suspicions about the kin and her cousin.

"I 'ad a talk with mon père early zis morning. And I told 'im everyzing. 'E...'as told me non to go before zee Council. But I still feel I should."

[Gabriella Bellamonte] Gabriella's jaw set a little funny, like she was biting down on something, perhaps a comment, and her eyes hooded just a touch. A breath pulled in slowly through her nostrils, she shook her head to the left just once, then raised her hand out in front of her, fingers together, palm facing into the room, and looked to Lukas.

A request to speak rather than launching into words, so that way she didn't interrupt Lukas or start talking over him.

Captain, may I?

[Lukas] Lukas nods to Gabbie, seeming to prefer scarfing down stew to speaking at the moment.

[Gabriella Bellamonte] A faint tip of her head to Lukas, then she sighed faintly and shifted her focus to Genevre, starting out by speaking the other Kinfolk's name, her tone easiest categorized as long-suffering. "Genevre..." Her hand lowered, wrapped back around her coat, and she waited until she had the Frenchwoman's full attention before continuing.

"Our advise can do nothing for you, you realize this? It is a decision that is yours and yours alone, and perhaps the best thing for you to do is consider the consequences of each of your actions. Let's review them...

"You go before the council, and you are disobeying your father, direct orders from a King. You will likely be pulled home by your hair or the nape of your neck, and my brother and sister can do nothing to save you from him or to still his hand. Nothing. If you wish to be drawn back to his side and have this... considerable freedom that you're been allowed stolen away? Then disobey your father. Repercussions are imminent, you won't escape them."

With a gesture of her hand, held out to her side, she continued.

"On the other hand, you can listen to him. You can let Lukas and Katherine testify against him. His offenses are greater to Lukas here by tenfold than what they were to you. He told you a lie, he defied the rank of a Fostern. Your words are not necessary for your cousin to get his, and if you hold your tongue your father has been placated and you get to stay in Chicago."

Gabbie lifted her eyebrows significantly, then folded her arms closed once more. "Ultimately the choice is yours, but we Kinfolk are made for obedience, are we not?"

[Genevre de Provence] She listened, nodding lightly. She had come to the same conclusions. Then she looked to Lukas for his comments.

[Lukas] A line appears between Lukas's eyebrows as Gabriella speaks; deepens by the time she finishes. There's a brief quiet, interrupted only by the rustle of fabric as Lukas sits up; a click as he puts down his bowl.

"It's your choice, Genevre. Do what you think is right. But here are the facts.

"If you choose to disobey, you'll suffer for it. You'll suffer for every iota of disobedience you offer. One day, you might be maimed for it, or killed, or sent back to Paris.

"On the other hand, if you choose to obey, then be prepared to always obey. You can't have your cake and eat it too. You can't choose to obey today when the danger is great and disobey tomorrow when it's not. That's not freedom. That's not free will. That's a pretense of choice within the tether your tribe lays out for you. But then, in the end, that may be all that the life of a kinswoman is."

There's no cruelty in this, but it is hard. It is harsh. It is truth.

After a moment he adds, "All I ask is that you inform me of your decision as soon as you reach it. And that you decide either to testify and tell the truth, or stand down and say nothing at all.

"Don't try to lie to the Philodoxes. They will see through you in an instant, and they will not forgive you for it. Do you understand me?"

[Genevre de Provence] She nodded slowly. "I would non offer lies any'ow. I know what mon cousin did is wrong. And 'e needs to be accountable for it. But I can non get mon père to believe me when I told 'im zat Fons 'as even threatened mon life. 'E does non think Fons is stupid enough to threaten zee 'eir to the 'Ouse. So 'e zinks I will be lying if I go before the Council."

[Kate] Lukas?

Katherine's voice slides into the conversation, albeit only in the Full Moon's head. There is, amongst the noise downstairs the very apparent sound of the Half Moon's heavy winter boots clunking across the floor.

[Gabriella Bellamonte] "Now I find myself lost," Gabriella interjected with a furrow of her brow.

"How has he threatened your life, Genevre? From what I've been told, he lied to you about that Shadow Lord attacking him. A lie is not a threat."

[Lukas] Common room, across the totemlink.

"Genevre was told that she would be killed if she went near Theron again," Lukas replies to Gabriella. "Or near any Shadow Lord. I can't remember the details."

Then, to Genevre again, "Like I said, Genevre. The choice is yours. Just let me know."

[Genevre de Provence] She let Lukas explain, and nodded. That was pretty much the jist of it. "I suppose it will be after zee 'olidays?" Meaning the Council meeting.

[Gabriella Bellamonte] "And I was threatened worse about Sam by my own uncle," she cut to Lukas, frowning now, though more at the memory than anything else, bothered that a Garou was going to be persecuted for such a crime while a Kinfolk as slithering and sneaking as her uncle managed to go unchecked. "Yet I went before no council to address Lucien's misgivings. We know what he's done, yet he stays secure in his office in New York City, and not a soul has gone after him."

She almost snorted, so indignant she found herself. "Yet we persecute a Garou, impertinent though he may be, for finding himself snarling and Rage-shaken at the idea of his cousin running off for a whimsical one-night affair with a Shadow Lord, making threats that are likely as empty as any of the number that have been thrown in any of our faces.

"I understand that he may be underhanded, that he may be seeking to uproot the pack that you and my siblings are keeping together, Lukas, but what I don't understand is why we've stolen his cousin away from him and hide her away in our home. She is his responsibility, as I am Kate's and Edward's."

[Genevre de Provence] She looked away as she heard Gabbie's final comment, and slowly stood. "I see now." She picked up her coat. "Bonne nuit, Lukas Wyrmbreaker." Then she just looked to Gabbie, and held her tongue, before moving off to leave. "Per'aps I am better off wiz mon cousin. Atleast zen, you won't 'ave to keep running to 'im and telling 'im everyzing I did."

[Kate] Never under-estimate the abilities of a Full Moon to sneak upon you. Gabriella is speaking, and yet her sister's Rage suddenly collides with her like a heat-seeking missile. Outside, it is Katherine's moon and she more than a touch prickled by it. "Stolen her away, have I, indeed?" Her sister's voice invades sharply.

When they twist, when they turn, they greet Katherine; pale and lovely in her white winter's coat and scarf, cheeks colored by the snowfall outside. Aside from a handbag, strung over one shoulder she carries a rather large rectangular box, wrapped in black paper and adorned with a bright red bow in one corner.

[Kate] (Er, Half Moon!)

[Gabriella Bellamonte] Gabriella barked out a sharp laugh at Genevre's response, shaking her head and smiling bitterly. "I didn't have to tell him anything, you wore the evidence sloppily about your neck like a strand of pearls."

She may have had more to say to that, but was cut quiet by a voice behind her, to her left, where the stairwell was that emptied into the downstairs and also looped up to the loft above, though it has been empty for quite some time now. Gabriella turned to look at Kate, met the chilly gaze and the warm blast of Rage both face-on, and while her heart and belly clenched, she did not flinch visibly. Just lifted one light-colored eyebrow and hugged her coat a little closer to her stomach.

"Have you not? I don't suppose you went to speak with Fons himself when you took her into our home?"

[Genevre de Provence] She paused at the stairs when Kate made her entrance. She doesn't snap back at Gabbie. She just stands there, back to Gabbie, and listens. Wanting to hear Kate's answer.

[Lukas] (folks? pause. i've got 15 things on my plate and i need to catch up.)

[Lukas] "Gabriella," Lukas says, suddenly flat, "whose side are you on, anyway?"

[Kate] (Rage check)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 5)

[Kate] (Reflexive: Burning a WP not to destroy, *runs type*)

[Kate] It's her moon outside.

Her control in most things is remarkable; her elegance and poise long revered and marveled at in her closer circles. Katherine was the Philodox of the Unbroken, her pack-mates looked to her for how they might behave, for how to retain tight control over their tempers.

Yet; right now, standing near Katherine Bellamonte feels akin to being in the room with a homicidal maniac counting off his targets with a shot gun, readying it to fire. Her eyes narrow on her younger sibling, and waves of pure, undiluted anger flow from the young woman.

The last occasion she'd had to feel this incensed, she'd been taunted by a fallen elder of her own tribe, her own auspice and she'd torn his spine out after leaping on his back. "I," the Aristocrat says in a deathly low growl. "Have done nothing but protect you all!" She yells the last, her voice raising octaves.

She does not move, she has no need.

Gabriella understands why she does not, she has seen her sister's temper lost before, but it is a rare thing to be the target of a wild animal's ire. Pointed, burning into you. "I have put my life on the line for you, day and night and the thanks that I receive is to have my own sister undermining me. Do you have any conception of what I--"

She trembles so hard she loses her grip on the parcel; closes her eyes and flexes her fingers, the draw back like claws, fold into fists.

"Go, get out." It's hard to say who this whisper is directed at; Genevre or Gabriella.

[Genevre de Provence] She apologizes softly, not wanting to be the true receiver of that temper once more. Genevre just continues on, down the stairs, to leave the BH.

[Gabriella Bellamonte] Kate's Rage billowed outward like sheets in the wind, only much hotter, less pretty, and so far from something simple and domestic. It washed over Gabriella, barely a foot away from the Philodox, and it had the Kinfolk straightening her spine, biting short but well-kept nails into the fabric of her coat, and moving two-three-four very quick steps to the right, away from Katherine. She swore she saw her sister's body tremble and her image blur, she thought she saw teeth and a snout, flashing animal eyes and a pelt of fur as truly white as Kate's cornsilk hair was blonde.

These were not words new to her, what her sister ground out. Look at what I have done for you, everything I do. This is for you, not for me, not for my glory and name and position. How dare you undermine me, how dare you question? How dare, how dare? But this sort of loss of control did not come easily or often. It had Gabbie's heart hammering in her chest and her teeth sunk deep enough into the tip of her tongue that she tasted blood.

She said to go, to get out and leave, and immediately Genevre rushed the stairs, disappeared with a soft half-French half-English apology and a sweep of dark hair. Gabbie stood still, however, sliding gradually further and further from Kate, like she'd sooner hop out the window than go past her to reach the stairs.

[Lukas] "Genevre," Lukas doesn't turn to watch her go, his attention on the Bellamonte sisters instead, "let me know by midnight tonight."

A beat goes by. Kate is on the edge of frenzy; the beast bitten back by sheer will. Gabriella is standing frozen. And Lukas is where he was: on the couch, unsmiling, dark to the sisters' blonde and fair.

"I want an answer, Gabriella. Because all I've heard from you tonight is staunch defense of this Fons character that you mask as good advice and a consideration of the 'options'."

[Gabriella Bellamonte] Gabbie's eyes shivered in their sockets for half a second, trying to turn toward Lukas but unwilling to leave her sister, or more to the point the unhinged, barely-restrained thing that wore her sister's skin and spoke in her voice. She swallowed once, hard, throat having to really work to make any noise that didn't sound like a strained whimper.

"I don't have a side, Lukas. I think that this mess is a result of overreaction and a hickey-stained floosy kicking up a fuss because Daddy isn't here to bear down upon her. I simply find it.... unfair that the accused has no one to speak for him and only reports from the tongue of that girl to condemn him beyond what he did to you."

[Lukas] (whee, more ragechecks!)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Kate] Katherine visibly worked to check her temper.

Fur erupted beneath her lovely winter's coat, the sleeves stretching against their seams for the instant it appeared she would loose out against the monster that lashed out against its restraints within her. Her cheeks vanished beneath white pelt, then reappeared.

And all the while the Half Moon focused.

focusfocusfocus, you are not the beast, you are not the beast, you are katherine bellamonte, you are not a monster until you choose to be a monsterrrr--WANT TO RIP HER HEAD OFF AND--controlcontrolcontrol

The Half Moon's eyes remained closed, her chest lifted and fell with slower, steadying breathes; her will alone forcing back the bitter tide that rose like bile in the back of her throat.

"The accused is barely worthy of the rank of Cub!" Her voice is still harsh, still like whip-lash against sensitive skin. Beside her, she can feel the stir of her Alpha's own Rage, and her pale eyes whip toward him instantly. "You wish to take Fons' side over that of your own flesh and blood, Gabriella, than do it.

I have nothing more to offer you and clearly it fails to be enough to buy even the smallest degree of faith in me."

[Lukas] A flash of rage -- like fire in a skillet.

It subsides.

Katherine continues to rage. Lukas is simply silent now, his eyes glittering like cut diamonds, cold and thoughtful on the face of the younger Bellamonte.

When Katherine is finished, a silence passes. Then, very low: "If you still think this is about hickeys, then you haven't heard anything I've said to you."

Lukas leans back in the couch, opening the curvature of his spine. It's relaxation so deliberate and sure that it's not relaxation at all, but simply a different coiling of energy, of strength, of brutality.

"You've become a liability to this pack, Gabriella," the Ahroun says; level, low, with a shocking evenness that borders on courtesy. "You are foolish, blind, and far too easily misled, and you can no longer be trusted to make your own decisions.

"Henceforth, you are not to have any contact with Fons whatsoever. If he seeks you out, turn him away. If he sends you gifts or correspondence, return them at once. If you even think to seek him out yourself, you are declaring war on your sister and on this pack, and you will be severed from it utterly."

He doesn't bother to ask if this is clear. It's not necessary; whether or not Gabriella understands, this is Lukas's course of action.

He turns to Katherine now.

"As for your kinswoman, Genevre: you're the Fang Elder of this city. It's your right to allow or deny entrance to a kin of your Tribe as you wish. If she chooses not to appear before the Council, if her father and her family holds such sway over her as that, then send her back to them immediately. She can return when the matter with Dirge of the Covenant has been settled; not before.

"Now." His feet come off the coffee table, land on the floor with a thump. "Let's go to the Caern and drag that insolent pup before the Council. I've had enough of van der Noot."

[Lukas] [For the record:

- Later tonight Lukas will ask Theron to summon a stormcrow spirit. The spirit will be bribed with Gnosis for the purpose of a single task: to be bound to Gabriella for a period of X weeks (X being + of succ on this next roll) as a conditional-release deal.
- Condition of release: if Gabriella speaks to Fons or accepts any overtures from Fons.
- The spirit will be asked to report to Lukas, but obviously, it may or may not actually do so. However, its mere presence or absence will be a telltale sign.

Determining weeks of service: WP roll for binding vs spirit's Gnosis (3) -1 (1Gn spent))
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 2)

[Gabriella Bellamonte] Gabriella's teeth almost cracked under the pressure she put on them, so tightly her jaw had clenched. She didn't look at Katherine anymore, didn't look at Lukas either. Instead she looked at the coffee table, tasting the blood off her tongue and working to keep her breathing even, mellow, and calm. This was a different control from what Katherine was struggling with. Katherine fought to keep her temper, Gabbie fought to keep herself.

The world felt fuzzy and soft, intangible, like it could blow away like dust on the wind.
One deep breath, a slow exhale, and Lukas was instead addressing Katherine.

Gabbie pulled her coat on, fingers slowly, clumsily did half of the buttons up before giving up, leaving the jacket half-done, two buttons in their wrong holes, making her appear sloppy and slightly maniac. Not a word squeaked past her lips, but her feet moved, steps stiff, like she was working with a body that was new to her and she wasn't certain of her balance or how well the joints had been oiled.

Unless stopped, she left down the stairs.

[Kate] Katherine leaned down now, scooped up her forgotten gift and held it against her chest like a life-preserver. Her features were calm now, a familiar mask of cold civility met any glances cast her way from her younger sibling.

It was as if Katherine had ceased to be, or worse still, ceased to care.

"I believe it is well overdue time that I wrote to King Calvin de Provence and informed him in no uncertain terms just what his nephew has been up to in the city. Perhaps hearing such details from one not so closely connected to him may sway his mind on this subject.

If not," Katherine raises a shoulder. "It shall be as you say, she will return to him until such a time as she is safe from her Cousin's influence."

Gabriella takes her leave and as she sweeps past her elder sister, for once the Philodox's eyes do not follow her, her jaw clenches visibly and she instead moves to sink down beside her Alpha. "One moment, Lukas. I came with a purpose." She sets the gift on his knees, smiling in a fond, if strained, capacity.

"For your birthday coming."

[Lukas] After Gabriella and Genevre have both departed, there's such a hard chill in the air that when Katherine halts Lukas and gives him his birthday gift, the offering seems surreal. Lukas lets a visible breath out, looking down at the gift and its cheery wrapping paper. All at once the smooth, ruthless emptiness of his countenance collapses into a wince, a grimace, and he reaches out to pick the box up between his hands.

"Christ," he murmurs, though he doesn't really believe in the god-child with whom he supposedly shares a birthday. "Do you remember Boston, Kate? Before all this... shit?"

He doesn't seem to have anything else to say but that. Then again, he doesn't need to. It says it all. Boston was another world. No titles to bear, no positions to defend, no rank to live up to.

A lifetime ago, it seems.

He gets up, then, picking up his two gifts -- plus the one for Danicka. "I'm going to put these in my room," he says. "Then let's go get this over with."

[Kate] Katherine seems wistful for her younger days. "I remember not feeling such strain, I remember feeling as if I were destined for greater heights than any others." She adopts a faint trace of a smile. "Oui, I remember, Lukas. But what can we do but adapt to the days that are here, now?"

She rises with him, and turns to silently stare out the window as he deposits his gifts -- staring out at her moon.

[Lukas] "What can we do," Lukas echoes, wry.

His gifts go into his room. He locks his door and, coming out, pulls an overcoat on as he descends the stairs.

Theron will meet them there. And Genevre -- she'll show, or she won't.

[Kate] [Wrapped with a bow!]