he never mentioned you.

[Katherine Bellamonte] [Per + Alertness]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 4, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine tilts her head to one side; it's almost avian, the manner she cocks it like that more than wolfish. She's still smiling a little, which is at once discomforting and reassuring. Her Rage thrums around her, ebbing and rising like the waves against the shoreline.

"Aha," she says lightly, nodding as if that made sense. "So there is no other reason why you do not have contact with him, after this night that he escorted you home, then." She lifts her brows, as if curious.

[Kristiana Coleman] "I've been busy with meeting people, and Matthieu...." She blushes again, ducking her head.

[Marni] Marni - well. She watches this little exchange like it's a tennis match, her head turning back and forth, her curls bouncing. She kicks off her shoes, and sets her feet up on the coffee table with a sigh of relief, and rests her plate on her belly as she eats and listens.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She coughs, clearing her throat, with a short, weird whistle-like sound emerging in the process. Something like that of a songbird being strangled and having its head beat repeatedly against piano keys. "Ooh...ahem. Sorry 'bout that. Frog in my throat, and shit." She straightens up, moving away from the steps.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Now, there's a genuine flicker of amusement in the Philodox's eyes. Her lips thin to a line and she lets out a little sigh.

"Very well, Kristiana. I am not here to bombard you questions regarding your personal life. I am here to facilitate your safety while you are in Chicago. You do understand this, yes?" She waits for a nod before going on. "If you have things of a delicate, or personal nature, do not bring them to my door unless they threaten your life, or the lives of others. If they are breaking some law, you may consult me.

If you are needing my protection, it goes without saying.

But I am not your mother, or your sister. I do not have the time or inclination for meaningless chit chat, or skirting around issues. I have asked, you have answered as you see fit. There lays the end of it." She flits a hand.

[Cordelia] Cordelia sits down and gets fairly comfortable near Marni. Whatever it is, the female seems content to watch the same tennis match as the Bone Gnawer. Realistically, there can't be that man differences betweent he two, except that Cordelia's probably half a foot taller and decidedly underweight while Marni... well. Marni has a whole 'nother person living inside of her. Suffice to say, it's a little cramped. What they have in common, however, seems to be their vague interest in the verbal tennis match. Cordelia's attention, however, wanes.

"So," she starts, "does the baby do the same thing with warm things?"

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She walks over to the table, snagging the remote and giving a smile to Marni and Cordlia. "Evening." She takes a seat on the floor, flicking her way through channels. "S'up?"

[Kristiana Coleman] She swallows hard "Yes, Rhya"

[Marni] A whole 'nother person, that's due in just a couple weeks, even. Which means said little person is considerably cramped, and Marni shifts her position slightly as Cordelia sits. Not to get away or get closer, just to try and get The Bean to shift slightly and get off her spine. Or kidney. Or whatever it's currently crushing.

She offers some of her fries to the kin, and shakes her head. "Not exactly - The Bean tends to curl up closer to the warm stuff, instead of actively kick it off. Before I got so blasted huge - i look like a fuckin WHALE, don't I? - he'd chase light too, when we shined a flashlight on my belly. Now there just ain't much room..."

[Kristiana Coleman] (Sorry guys, I'm crashing out and I need to be up in about six hours. Krist will head up to room 8)

[Cordelia] Now, she knows good and well that she shouldn't decline food, and down the hatch it goes. They're friees. They're good fries at that- Cordelia isn't aware that Marni's a Bone Gnawer, but if she did she'd know that they don't just share food with anyone. Food's a sacred thing. She does know, however, that pregnant women will eat the ever-loving crap out of some french fries.

"You don't look like a whale," she says, "I don't think you'd be very mobile in water at all."

She just grins, ear-to-ear and so much fake innocence there.

"When's the Bean due?"

[Marni] "Actually!" she says, with that incorrigible grin... "Water is awesome - takes a lot o'the weight off, and pressure too. An' well, since we're pretty sure that's where we started th'Bean anyway... well. We like water. A lot."

She wiggles her brows, and then chuckles. "February 3rd." She pats the belly, and shakes her head. "Though if 'e wants t' make an' early appearance, I wouldn't be opposed. I miss seein my feet..."

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She glances back at Marni and Cordelia, then smiles to herself and just leans back, continuing the channel flipping. She tosses a look over to Katherine now that Kristiana's gone, watching her.

[Cordelia] "Well, they're still there," she looks at Sarita and raises her brows, "verdad? I'm not lying to her and they are there."

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She glances back now at Cordelia, then makes a show at looking for Marni's feet. "Oh...yeah, there they are." She grins. "Yeah, ya got feet, chica. No worries."

[Marni] She laughs, and nods. "Yeah, else it'd be a problem walkin in, I figure. Though I give up on tryin t'tie my shoes, or anything that involves bendin over the Bean. 'e ain't like it much. Figure's 'e's all smooshed up in there enough."

She wrinkles her nose, and then chuckles. "Ain't all that bad. Jus' been a while. Ain't like feelin like I ain't able t'protect shit, ya know? Specially The Bean. February cain't come fast enough."

[Lukas] The nights Lukas spends in the Brotherhood has been gradually diminishing over the past year or two. He's here tonight, though, coming up the stairs with herb-crusted lamb from the kitchen. Best in the city, he swears, and given the amount of lamb he seems to devour, one may as well believe him. There's a bottle of red under his arm, a copy of the latest Economist in his right hand, and ... a wineglass in his mouth, stem held delicately in his teeth.

He stops at the top of the stairs, seeing the common room occupied. Then he makes some sort of vague hello sound at Katherine, nods to everyone else, and goes to sit ...

well, in his usual spot. Dead center on the long arm of the sectional, putting his heaping plate down in front of him.

"Thought I heard you putting the fear of Falcon into some kin," he says, ripping off three lamb ribs to hand to his packmate. "Did you scare her off already?"

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She throws her attention to Lukas when he walks in, head tilting as he gets an appraising once over.

[Marni] And enter Lukas.

There's a moment, where the expression is clear on Marni's face, though it's there an' gone so fast it's as if it didn't exist at all. It helps that she was shoving the last bit of fries into her mouth about that time, too, but it exists. She sets her plate aside, pulls her feet back, and slips them into her boots by feel.

"Speakin' of - it's time I got home. Jus' had cravin for some fries, an' since I done killed the plate of em.." She winks at Cordelia, and goes about trying to leverage herself out of the couch. No easy doing. "Give us a push, will ya?"

Push or not, she gets to her feet, and pulls on her sweatshirt, her coat. She grabs her empty plate, and with a general wave, heads out the same way she came.

[Cordelia] Wyrmbreaker's a good looking man, let's make no mistake about that. However, there is only so far raw looks and prowess can go before it gives way to ridiculous. Then, of course, Marni is asking for a push up, the female positions her arm under marni, and gets a good hand on her rear.

Cordelia gives Marni a nice, healthy shove up... which is to say it isn't quite a shove, because even if she is a fairly strong young woman, Cordelia is a bird-boned young woman, and strong for her frame is probably not strong enough to do more than give a pregnant woman a little momentum.

"Goodnight... Marni, yes?" she waves.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks back to Marni, getting to her feet when it becomes clear the Gnawer is trying to get up and offering a hand. "Here, lemme help."

[Marni] "Yeah." she says - it's Marni, and for their help leveraging her oddly balanced frame up.. "Thanks!" Because, believe it or not, she has it in her to be polite - when she wants too.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Kristiana has had enough, perhaps, of Katherine. Or she's simply in need of a respite from the constant aura of Rage around various individuals in the room. Whichever it is, she excuses herself with Katherine's blessing and the Silver Fang is then left to her own devices -- for a few moments.

Then Sarita is eying her, and gets the privilege of a lifted brow in response.

Lukas appears, and there's a fondness in the female's voice as he carries his lamb and accessories toward the sectional. "Oh, you know Lukas, it's my monthly scare sense into my subjects event." Then; the pregnant Gnawer is rising to leave, and Katherine bids her stay only long enough to add:

"I have some left over baby items like formula at the Loft from August Grant's stay before she gave birth. They are yours, should you need them." Then she's offered lamb chops, and sits down, coat aside to carefully nibble at one.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] "You bet." She smiles to Marni and sits down, taking a moment to look back to Katherine with curiosity. Apparently, the Fang intrigues her.

[Lukas] "Mmf," Lukas says, mouth full, A lamb bone falls by the side of the plate, picked clean. He wipes his hand quickly on a napkin, then twists a corkscrew into his bottle with quick, practiced turns of his wrist. When it's in the Shadow Lord -- because he is that, unmistakably so, never mind that he's apparently on good terms with this Silver Fang he's sharing his meal with -- pulls the cork free with utter, thoughtless ease. Still impaled on the corkscrew, it goes by the wayside. Lukas pours himself a glass of wine, then passes the bottle to Kate as if he really expected her to drink directly from it.

"You get all the hot kinfolk and the juicy drama. I'm jealous." He doesn't sound it one bit.

Lukas takes a sip, catches a spilled drop of wine off his lip with the side of his thumb. It's discreet. He eats with a sort of innate, thoughtless ease; a carnivorous grace that isn't quite the same as Katherine's well-entrained courtesy. When he lifts his eyes, they go with instinctive unerring directness to Sarita. Now there are two pairs of pale, piercing eyes on the Strider, both blue. Lukas gestures at the lamb on the platter, invitational, as he sits back with a rib in hand.

"Care for a bite?"

[Katherine Bellamonte] The Strider is fascinated by the Silver Fang, perhaps she has not seen so many of them since she hit the city. In truth, their number had dwindled somewhat of recent months. Katherine somehow manages to devour a chop neatly, and sets a little pile of bones before her on a napkin.

She dabs at her lips, and finally gives in the constant staring.

"Am I so strange a thing to you, Sarita?"

Lukas' jibe about being jealous is very deliberately ignored; as is the bottle he passes to her, she reaches out and takes up his wine glass instead.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She grins, her gaze swiveling smoothly to Lukas. "That depends, mi amigo. M'I gonna get my hand back if I do?" She winks and then looks back over to Katherine. "In all honestly...lil' bit. Not sayin' that's a bad thing, just haven't been in one spot long enough to get a good look at class in the wild. Sorry if I'm staring."

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Although, in all honestly, she doesn't sound ALL that sorry. Maybe just a tiny bit.

[Sinclair] The footsteps that come out of Room 1 and down the short stretch of hallway to the common room would be silent, if not for the faint scratch-tap of little claws. The wolf that enters, leaving her bedroom door ajar with the confidence that most people know better than to trespass in her territory -- or will learn, should they be so ignorant -- is a strange one, stranger still to be seen indoors. Or rather: would be strange, were the indoors anywhere but here.

Is strange, even here.

The fur is thick with wintertime, charcoal-colored with tufts and tips of black, flashes of white. The eyes are a blue so pale and opaque it seems colorless compared to the intensity of both Lukas and Katherine's near-matching gazes. But what makes her strange isn't the lack of breeding being brought into the room with her presence, nor is it the predatory dread every footfall brings closer to them -- though that is noticable, a different feeling from Rage, a sense that makes the animals in them get their hackles up --

it's the metal rings through the wolf's ears, really. They glint and glisten under the overhead lighting as she pads into the room tail swinging slowly behind her. There's another hint of metal in the top of one foreleg, glinting through her fur.

She goes straight towards the table, puts her paws on it, and sniffs at Lukas's food before swiveling her head over and peering at him.

The wolf makes a whining noise. To a human, it would seem like begging. They might make a dog shake or do a trick. To the ears of the Garou in the room, it's just a question.

[Lukas] Kate's absconding with his wineglass is intercepted: the Ahroun's hand falling quickly, smoothly, firmly atop hers. He takes the wineglass back, drinks himself, and then -- with a subtle deliberation that anyone but Katherine and Sinclair might well miss -- hands it to Kate. An offering, this time.

If she takes it, he sits back again. Lukas's manner here is casual, easy, familiar. He's lived here a long time, and he likes it here. Even if there's something intrinsically dignified, old-world about his face, even if he's feasting on a crown rack of lamb and red wine -- he's casual. At home. Dressed in drawstring lounge pants and a dark t-shirt, as if he might've just rolled out of bed, his feet bare, his hand --

not bare. There's a ring on his left hand, matte black, a thin rim of gold encircling the lower edge. Elegant; subdued.

"Go ahead," he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up. That applies to both Sarita and Sinclair. This is for the former, though -- "I wouldn't extend the invitation if I was going to bite."

[Sinclair] She pushes herself up on the table a bit more, grabs a lamb chop in her teeth, and then jumps up on the couch between her packmates, coiling herself up with the chop on her forepaws to start tearing the meat off. Her eyes go to Sarita, but she just thumps her tail against the cushions she's sitting on, ears perked in curiosity despite her attention to what she's eating.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] "I didn't say nothin' about getting bit. Lotsa ways to lose a hand, and I know enough to pay attention to what's not said as much as what is." The grin takes a distinctly lopsided tilt to it, and she gets back to her feet.

She eyes Sinclair as she heads over, eyes doing a once-over on the wolf. She gets a little not before Sarita takes just a small chop. "Thanks," she says to Lucas with a quick wink and a smile. "You're already on my good side."

[Cordelia] It's an entire watching and observing procedure. She's managed to get Marni out the door, and the young woman becomes accutely aware soon enough that she's the only kinfolk in the room. Sarita is a different sort of creature. Lukas is distinct. Katherine is Falcon's (terrifying, awe inspiring. The ability to inspire some kind of visceral fear is part of the majesty.) And, of course, there is a literal wolf padding through.

There's silence, a look at Lukas again. Probably a little longer than a glance, she looks like she's going through a mental grocery list.

"I'm sorry," she says, "I keep seeing you and I have no idea what your name is."

[Katherine Bellamonte] [BRB, dinner! Kate is nomming and sipping and scratching Sinclair behind the ears.]

[Lukas] "It's pretty hard not to good-side someone when faced with the city's best rack of lamb," Lukas quips. A glance at Cordelia, then -- the truth is, better or worse, Lukas rarely pays attention to kin unless there's reason to -- and then back to Sarita to include her in the introduction.

"I'm Lukáš," he says. Accent on the second syllable, aspirated s at the end: a distinctly non-american name, which he pronounces with the absolute perfection of a native speaker. "Called Wyrmbreaker. Fostern, Alpha of the Shadow Lords, Alpha of the Ahrouns, Alpha of the Unbroken. These are my sisters Katherine and Sinclair." And, since Sinclair was in no shape (ha.) to introduce herself to a kin, "Sinclair's a Glass Walker Fostern Galliard.

"What about you two? You're one of Katherine's," Cordelia, "but I could almost swear you're a Strider."

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] "Ooh, right." She sets the chop down and, with a little half-step back and a lower her shoulders, gives a bow...complete with a flourish to her arms. "Sarita Echoes-of-Laugher, or Ecos de la Risa if you prefer. Cliath Moonless of Owl. No pack, just a half-sister who's floating around here somewhere and probably pissing someone off half as well as I could."

[Sinclair] Sinclair is, in point of fact, in excellent shape to introduce herself. It's not her fault that the Brotherhood is in the city and it's after dark and people would freak out if she started howling. Sinclair doesn't bother grousing at Lukas in his mind or nipping at him with her teeth. Her eyes loll back as Katherine reaches over and starts scritching her behind one ear, setting that tail of hers to thumping faster and with more satisfaction.

Yeeeaaaah.

She's distracted for a moment, her teeth stuck mid-gnaw in her lamb and her eyes falling closed and her tail wagging to beat the stuffing out of the couch, but then she opens her eyes and barks. It's a combination of sounds, a warping of traditional lupus to include concepts no wolf knows at birth. It's a name. It is not meant to translate clearly for Sarita

so much as remind Lukas he forgot something.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[a lowerING OF her shoulders. I fail at typing.]]

[Cordelia] She doesn't seem to bat an eye at any of it. And she sits through the introduction, most of it making some sense, and she pieces together a few very, very important things. This is Lukas. Yes, that Lukas.

"Oh," Cordelia starts, and for frame of reference, "you're Christian's alpha."

And she's met Sinclair before. Her gaze goes there, and the female gives her a once over. Looks at the metal in her ears and whatever other details there are and pieces things together. Carefully, though not so slowly. Cordelia isn't having as much difficulty translating back and forth, but rest assured the young lady has an accent. Quite a bit of one, but luckily she manages to avoid that infamous Castilian lisp.

"I'm Cordelia, Cordelia Eulália Maria Sarafin-Diego-" it's not as much of a mouth full when you're talking to people with deed names "-es nice to place faces with names."

[Lukas] "It's good to have another of Owl's in the city, if only for a while." Lukas doesn't bother to ask if she's staying -- it's usually pointless to ask that of a Strider. "Last I heard one of your kin lived here. Gina McClaren was her name. She had some hard times, though. I'm not sure if she's still in town."

Sinclair barks. Lukas blinks, then adds, "Oh. Sinclair's known by Warcry, or Brutal Revelation." And he shifts his knee over, nudging her. "Sorry," exaggerated, grinning.

That grin fades a notch, sharpens into curiosity, as Cordelia answers. "Yeah," he replies simply, "I am." Tense is important, here. "You knew him?"

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She nods, recognizing the name. "Kyle mentioned her, said she's not been seen in months. I might just see if I can track her down. Never want brethren left alone after rough times, after all."

She looks at Sinclair, nodding in recognition of the Deed Name, before going quiet to let Lukas and Cordelia talk over their mutual acquaintance.

[Lukas] "If you could," Lukas replies to Sarita, "I think she'd appreciate it. She was a bright, happy thing when she came here, but Chicago tends to chew those people up first and hardest."

[Sinclair] This time Sinclair goes ahead and nips at Lukas when he gives her that exaggerated sorry. She does not act like a dog, rolling onto her back and exposing her belly for Katherine or Lukas to scratch at. She does, however, behave like an animal, returning her attention to her food, gnawing and licking at the lamb chop. She tears meat off right down to the bone, laps up every speck of juice as she goes at it. There's a harsh efficiency to the way she eats, an instinctive ruthlessness.

[Cordelia] "I know him, yes," because tense is important here, and Cordelia and Lukas are speaking in two different ones. She looks at him incredulously, "we're dating."

There's a sort of tenuous composure there, and she keeps it. Or, at the very least, is good at faking keeping it. "You haven't heard from him?"
Now, what it sounds like she said, was this: you haven't heard from him either.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She gives Lukas a little nod, appreciation shining in her eyes. She stores the information away in her head, giving them their time to talk before questioning him any further about it.

[Katherine Bellamonte] [back!]

[Lukas] "We haven't heard from him," Lukas says. There's a gentleness in his tone, even if the truth he gives her is just that: the truth, plain and harsh.

Then, "He never mentioned you. I'm glad, though. That he had someone, I mean."

[Sinclair] The next time they look at Sinclair, her eyes have fallen closed again, but her tail has gone still. Kate's fingers in her fur -- and the lamb chop bone still being gently, unconsciously gnawed between her teeth -- have effectively soothed Warcry for the time being. She is a large, heavy lump of furred warmth on the couch cushions, sleeping the way a wolf sleeps in the middle of its pack, surrounded by heat, and rage, and loyalty.

[Sinclair] [thanks for the rp! thanks for letting me driveby! :D]

[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine stirs here; a hand on Sinclair's fur; a warm, vital reminder. Lukas beside her and every now and then a sip from her Alpha's wine glass. There's a great deal of meaning here, to it all. Watching the Unbroken an outsider has a very strong vibe from the three.

They are united; and almost move without consideration in sync with one another.

A true wolf pack, then. "We miss him," she says to Cordelia, her voice gentled. "His room awaits him."

[Cordelia] He never mentioned you.
She blinks, and reaches up to adjust her glasses. Her cheeks have lost some of their color, and she's not so much palid as... well... she looks like she migth have eaten something that didn't agree with her.

"Oh."

She inhales, and perks up a little, even smiles a little. "Well, he thought the world of you," she informs Lukas, "he's resilient. I'm sure he's giving someone Hell somewhere."

Kate chimes in, says that they miss him. She smiles, but the color is absolutely refusing to return to her cheeks.

"I should get to sleep," she says. She stands, she even straightens herself out.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Her brows furrow a bit, head tilting just a bit to the side at Cordelia's reaction. She looks between the kin and the pack quickly, eyes settling back on Cordelia.

"Beunos nocas, chica." She smiles faintly, a bit more tenderness than her usual mischievous expression carries. "Sleep well."

[Lukas] "Hey -- "

Lukas is a creature accustomed to command. Just listen to his introduction, that list of Alpha ofs after his name. He knows how to command without bellowing, to catch attention without shouting. It's not even conscious anymore. There's something different in his tone; it demands attention.

When he has it, he quiets: "I didn't mean that in a bad way. Christian's entitled to his privacy, and some things are so precious you don't even share them with your pack. Just because we didn't know about you doesn't mean he didn't care about you. If anything, it was the opposite."

He nods at Sarita as she stands to go, then. "Night," He says. "You staying at the BroHo?"

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[She didn't stand to go, Cordelia did. :) ]]

[Cordelia] He says hey, she turns, and he has her attention. Because she knows when people are commanding, and damned if she's not one to pay attention. She is tall, unapologetically so, and seemingly aware of the smace she takes up. This little patch of land is hers and someone requires her attention.

Lukas' voice quiets, and she nods. Her left hand goes up to her glasses to push them back up the bridge of her nose.

"I appreciate the clarification... it makes a big difference," there's not an ounce of sarcasm there. Leave it to the Spaniard to appreciate and understand translation errors.

[Lukas] [i'm an ijjit.]

[Lukas] [Night is for Cordelia then! BroHo question is still for Sarita.]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[Naah. :) ]]

She nods at Lukas. "Ames and I are crashing in Kyle's room for the time being. Hey, about this Gina...any idea where a good place to start searching might be? I'd go outside and start shouting for her, but it probably wouldn't be real effective. Where she was, anyone she might know...that sorta thing."

[Lukas] Lukas grimaces a bit, not in displeasure but in thought. He glances at Kate for confirmation -- "Where was she staying? Bronzeville?" -- and then back, "I think it was Bronzeville. The best thing might be to find yourself a Theurge and see if they can make you a Questing Stone, start from there."

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She purses her lips and then nods. "Yeah, that sounds like a plan." She gives a half-smile. "Thanks for the heads up. If she can be found, we'll find her."

[Lukas] "Good luck," Lukas replies, and then drains the last of his wine, setting the glass down in case Kate wants it. "I'm in Room 2, by the way. Sinclair's next door to me, Room 1. Kate has her own place, but if you need any of the Unbroken, find one of us and we'll be able to pass the message on."

[Katherine Bellamonte] "Yes," Katherine confirms almost absently, her attention still with Cordelia. She is watching the young noble-bred female with the keen awareness of a lion who has noticed a cub in distress and not quite certain if it should approach or leave it to tend to itself. Some would never learn without the experience.

She leaves things with a kinder smile than usual for her, and glances at her Alpha as he rises, unsettling the drowsing Sinclair; she merely rolls, and sleeps on.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] "Muy apreciado." She gives Lukas a smile, and then nods to both him and Katherine. "Well, I should get to bed. Girl's got to get SOME beauty rest before here mid-afternoon wake-up call." Her lips quirk upward in a smirk, and she taps two fingers to her brow before flicking them forward in a casual salute.

"Have a good night. Nice meeting you both."

[Katherine Bellamonte] So, they are mostly alone, the Unbroken. Katherine raises an eyebrow at her Alpha. "Going to bed, old man?"

[Cordelia] "Buenas noches, no se meten en muchos problemas," she tells Sarita. She even smiles, and there's a quiet pleasure in that. Not just that, but the woman makes the Spanish language seem like something that is lovely and poetic simply by being.

"Good night," she says to those who don't have the benefit of understanding precisely whatever it is she's saying in some foreign language. With that, she takes a step and is on her way to bed.

[Cordelia] (thanks for the scene, sorry about that! I thought I hit enter on that post a LOT earlier)

[Lukas] "Likewise," Lukas replies, and then grabs a last rib from the rack, gnawing on it as he stands. He smirks as Kate addresses him, "Maybe not to bed, but I thought I might try to catch Dani&+269;ka before she gets up for class. I've got a couple hours, though. You sticking around a while?"

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She grins at Cordelia and gives a little shrug, as if to say 'How else am I to have fun,' and makes her way off to room 10.

[[Thanks for the scene!]]

[Lukas] [thanks!]

[Katherine Bellamonte] "Mm," she says with a lazy sort of stretch; folding her booted feet up beside her; tucking a hand under the heavy fall of hair to her neck. She peers up at him and his lamb bone thoughtfully; her mouth still painted a very crimson red, despite having eaten. No wonder Kristiana had almost fainted; she looked almost barbaric with those lips the color of blood and that cloud of Rage hanging over her.

"I had thought to patrol some, the moon is halved and my skin itches with it."

In truth, there was a particular gleam to Kate's eye that unsettled the best; she was never more a Silver Fang than on these nights of the Waxing Half Moon.

[Lukas] Lukas turns his head to twist off a last scrap of meat, then drops the bone on the plate and holds his clean(ish) hand out to Kate. That smirk turns into something warmer -- a crooked smile as he hauls her to her feet.

"You should tell that to that young man" irony, massive sarcastic irony "of yours. I'm sure he'll think of some way to scratch that itch for you." Then the smile straightens out, and he grins. "Let me grab my talens bag," he says, "and throw on some clothes. You drive. I'm calling shotgun!"

ugh!

[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] Katherine Bellamonte received a phone call, it might have gone straight to voicemail. Who really cared where the phone call went first, because Cordelia left a message or wasn't inclined to talk for too long. The moon is waning away to half, and she doesn't particularly notice yet. Or care yet. Some part of her would be upset that it wasn't her sister that she went to first regarding these matters-

No, no that's not true. Not entirely, at least. But we digress. Cordelia is taking off her contacts in the cab, and travels half blind through the way. She waits to leave a message, and-

"Ms. Bellamonte? It's Cordelia, I recognize that it's late and I'm sorry, but I just had a thought and I needed to come talk to you," and that's about all the message that she left.

Soon enough, however, she's on the doorstep. She's taken her heels off, and holds them loosely in one hand. Her mascara has since streaked and her eyes are red. Her foundation is smudged, her lipgloss is non-existant and her hair has been haphazardly taken down. This is the nature of updos, when you take them down they look half-assed. Her shoulders are back, though, and her head is high. Katherine knows this expression, because she has no doubt worn this expression, though in a decidedly less discheveled state.

This is the look of triumph.

Cordelia waits for someone to answer the door, and she can wait all night should she need.

[Katherine Bellamonte] It is well after hours so it's Katherine herself that answers to Cordelia's knock. Lucille has retired for the night, apparently, or headed home to her own apartment -- wherever the lady of Bellamonte Houses' long suffering maid is, it's not with her Mistress, that much is certain.

Katherine looks as she typically always does though perhaps a touch softer than her day to day face would suggest. She wears no makeup, her skin clear, her golden waves brushed smooth and her slender figure encased in a peach blouse and jeans; her feet in slippers. There was a fine necklace of some stone strung around her neck and the fingers of one hand held a set of reading glasses.

They were perhaps her maid's; who knew. Perhaps she'd been tidying when the doorbell sounded.

"Cordelia," she greets with perfunctory coolness, and waves her inside; swinging the heavy door secure behind her and preceding the young Kinswoman into her living room. There was no fire-place in the Silver Fang's home, but it retained the warmth of a space that did have some facet of heating. "Your message sounded urgent, what can I help you with tonight?"

Katherine folded herself back onto one of her black leather sofas.

[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] She smiles. There is something to be said about looking radiant. She's either put on weight or lost weight or filled out in the right ways. Or maybe it's just hte way that she's holding herself. Or maybe it's something else entirely that doesn't have anything to do with her clothes or what would have been fineries from the evening.

"I recognize that it's late, and I apologize," she says. She wipes her eyes again and sniffs inward. It's a complete cognitive disconnect- she should be crying and upset, but she's not upset. She's far from upset at this moment, "it hit me that there is more that I could be doing for our tribe, and we'd discussed needing a liason between the other tribes' needs and our own, but I wanted to know what our clear cut goals were so I could help with this."

A moment barely passes, "and it's more than that, I think I can do more for our tribe and your pack. I feel like I owe it to you and to Christian to try and help."

[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine watches Cordelia through those pale eyes of hers that are so clear that they sometimes appear more gray than the ice-blue they are. Her gaze was forever not without some edge of discomfort, for although she did not possess her pack-sister's degree of predatory grace she did have an impressive amount of Rage, and the added benefit of a nature at once steady and cancered by her tribe's insanity.

At some point; perhaps as the lean Kinswoman reaches the point of I feel like I owe it to you -- the Garou raises a hand to signal she should cease, should allow her to answer. "Please, slow down, Cordelia. I can appreciate your enthusiasm to aid the tribe, I even applaud it," there's an edge of a smile now.

"But why the sudden need to discuss this with me tonight? It could have waited until at least dawn, no?" Her eyebrow rises, voice curious, more than anything; her eyes wander her dress, the state of her hair. "What has brought this on?"

[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] "Tonight, I was at my wits end," she says. It's the only phrase she could think of. It's a good thing the Spaniard wasn't pacing or fidgeting or looking completely nervous or upset or... okay, maybe her nerves would come down. Maybe she would be upset later, "I went out with Ivan tonight and-I-"

She inhales, deeply, and exhales.

"We had a heated discussion regarding duty and civility towards those of our own tribe. He's a good ragabash, and by the end of our conversation it dawned on me that... this is going to come out untoward... some of the faces of our tribe range from being entitled and privileged to the point of callous, while others come off as traditional to the point of dogmatic, static, and unyielding. And While each force has benefits, ultimately I feel like some of us lose the point of what our position and what being a leader is.

"I've had a full night and a cab ride full of self-reflection, and I determined that I needed to speak with you first because you're my tribal elder here, instead of my sister who isn't affiliated with Maelstrom. And, as that her pack has commandeered my living room, I needed to come here first."

A beat.

"It could have waited until morning, though, and admittedly my timing is adrenaline fueled at the moment"

[Katherine Bellamonte] I went out with Ivan tonight, she begins, and the Half Moon leans back, her long fingers linking together atop her knee. One slipper taps against a heel idly as she goes on and it ceases as she notes that Ivan is a good Ragabash. "Is he?" The Philodox asks with no less sudden abruptness, nor sharpness, than a knife wields as it slices through cheese.

The words are enough to silence anyone; but she allows Cordelia to finish her speech of empowerment before going on. "I would barely know what Ivan Press is, Cordelia and do you know why? Because I do not hear nor see the creature unless its at an occasion I summon him to.

You could express to me that he had taught you the Venetian Waltz and I would have little to add but a very similar remark."

A moment; she could seem so lazily reproachful, Katherine, but at once her compassion seared you with its pressure. "The goals of our tribe, Ms Diego are several-fold, but if you wish to be a liaison for our needs it is going to require more than a single meeting between us and it is very possible that it will be a position not simply held by a single Kinfolk but rather many.

I do not doubt your commitment to the Silver Fang tribe," a beat, her pale eyes pin the girl, "but I would suggest you go home and rest on your new found adulation. We can discuss this more fully when you are well rested." It was less a put down and rather more the gentle push of an elder to a cub to steady their thoughts.

Perhaps the guidance of a Half Moon.

[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] It really is like dealing with her sister, except tonight she doesn't have the history between them to back it up. It's the feeling of being pinned in a bug collection. On a certain level, she's waiting for a cotton ball full of nail polish remover to finish her off. She smiles anyway, and adrenaline starts to wear down. She slouches for the first time in probably recently history, not because she's defeated but because her back hurts and her dress is uncomfortable and she's reminded, briefly, of why you don't pretend to be someone else-

When you're left with only yourself and your skn, it's hard to work when some part of you doesn't quite fit.

"Speaking of," she says, "there's a girl named Kristiana Coleman that you might need to meet. She's nice, but she's very traditional and she might need help. Or not. She's a grown woman, but she's young."

She takes a second, and ruminates with it. Winds down and finds herself more and more aware of her own thoughts. She and Katherine are similar in age, but the fact of the matter remains that she seems so much younger. It's amazing what a different upbringing will do.

There's silence. Long after silence is appropriate.

"... Katherine?"

[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine, it should be noted, is not some terrifying beast.

She is, as noted, not so much older than Cordelia herself; the only thing which separates the two is Katherine's Rage and her upbringing. She had been raised as a child of a relatively new house within a much broader House. The name of Bellamonte had another generation to it now, thanks to Edward. Perhaps the only deed he would truly accomplish that would echo through the ages -- for who knew how many younger Bellamontes his daughter would bear?

Presently, Katherine is the picture of a young woman who is also a monster who was also attempting to council her family without the benefit of anything but her words. She did not wish to frighten Cordelia into submission, or quash her ideals of being some better figment within the tribe than she currently was -- she simply wanted the girl to have a solid grasp of her own ideas, and not the after shock of adrenaline pumping in her veins.

"Kristiana Coleman?" She makes the name an adventure; hinting at a life in France if only through the idea of it in her voice. Then: "Yes, Cordelia?"

[Ilari Martin] Waking up completely sober in an unfamiliar location does not bring with it the same confusion and panic that comes with initiating the same process while somewhere on the spectrum between Wildly Inebriated and Hungover. This building, this bedroom, is not so unfamiliar as it ought to be, but considering the fact that it is not his bedroom in his apartment, it is close enough. This is the first night he has not spent the night in what could be considered his own home since... well, it doesn't bear dwelling on, but suffice to say the only reason he is here at all tonight has to do with the fact that the kids left Chicago early this morning with the intent to visit their grandparents for the rest of the week.

It doesn't matter why he's here, really; Cordelia Sarafin-Diego and Ilari Martin have never met before tonight, and the former isn't aware that the latter was here when she texted Katherine Bellamonte, nor when she arrived.

What emerges from the master bedroom is old enough to be Kate's father. This is not an exaggeration or a hyperbole: the man is in his forties, easily, with the salt-and-pepper hair and worn skin to show for it. He is no taller than the Philodox, yet he is just as well dressed if one is willing to ignore the fact that he appears as though he has just emerged from a miniature comatose state. His feet are clad in black socks, his attire full-on formal save for he is missing his tie, belt, and suit jacket. His hair is a mess, his steps are uncertain, and he's rubbing his eyes as a yawn sneaks out of his throat.

"Kate," he mumbles, "I had the strangest--"

His hand comes down from his eyes in time to see the tall blond stork speaking with Kate. He reconsiders what he was about to say, holds up his finger as if to say Never mind! and walks into the kitchen to fill a glass with water.

[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] [how bad is this...]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2

[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] "Christrian's n-" she is almost to the word, and it's a damned good thing she doesn't actually finish that train of thought, or ask someone who might know so, instead, she can hang on to speculation. Guess. Not play the role of a good girlfriend but be whatever the Hell she needs to be at that moment, because it's taken years for her to figure out that they aren't fragments, she's not compartments, she's a package.

She is interrupted, of course, by a man who is old enough to be her father. Who probably drank the same cognac or smoked the same cigars or something to that effect. There's a man in a suit, looking like a mess and she just looks at Martin. Her eyes are wide, she pushes her glasses up, and they both look like they just woke up or were shoved in a confined space and wedged between two squishy, smelly boulders. Her mascara's streaked, and she simply doesn't care.

Can't be bothered by it.

Back on subject. She looks at Martin. She blinks. Her cheeks turn pink inexplicably, and she shakes her head, too, when she looks back at Kate. Apparently, both of them can wait.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Through the glass sliding doors, the faint sound of splashing: someone making good use of that olympic-sized pool.

There are a lot of things that could be said about Katherine. That she's cold. That she's squeamish. That she's haughty, and arrogant, and remote. Some of them, Lukas reflects, might even be true. Probably is true from the right angle, the right point of view.

There's this to be said, though. Katherine's love for her family -- her blood and her spiritual family alike -- is complete. Filthy rich or not, she didn't have to spend her own money on a too-large home so her packmates would always have a place to stay if they needed it. She didn't have to upend that home and remodel everything just because two of them insisted on a bigger pool, we want a bigger pool, pleeeeease, Kate?

Her devotion to her family is absolute. But when push came to shove, Lukas was willing to publically shame her over tribal matters.

The steady, clockwork freestyle stops. Lukas will never be the natural athlete Sinclair is. He doesn't swim like a fish, or even like a damn sea turtle. What he has instead is determination. Will. A monotonous, powerful, regular rhythm that could probably carry him across an ocean if need be, but only if need be. At any rate, it stops, mid-stroke. Lukas bobs up in the middle of the pool, pushing his goggles up, wiping his face clear.

Hey, Kate. This sort of comes out of the blue. I should have said this earlier, but I'm sorry about chewing you out the other night. I was so hellbent on teaching that dickhead

-- clearly, he has no idea 'that dickhead' was currently in the building, and not only that, coming out of Katherine's bedroom --

a lesson that I didn't stop to think how it'd make you feel. We're Alphas of our tribes, and we have a responsibility to uphold -- but you're also my sister. I didn't have to be such an ass.

There's a pause.

Anyway, I'm sorry. He hauls himself out of the water, goes to take a quick wash in the open corner shower.

[Katherine Bellamonte] "Christian," she prompts Cordelia before she stalls as Ilari Martin has just emerged from her bedroom.

To her credit, the Silver Fang does not color; her blushing days (save very few) are long done when it came to moments such as these. There is almost a touch of amusement to the manner she simply re-adjusts herself and raises a hand over her shoulder at the scurrying figure vanishing into her kitchen.

"My apologies, Cordelia. I did not expect him to be awake, that was," a beat, she smiles a little more naturally, for Katherine, "is, Ilari Martin. He is your family, another of ours in the city." She's quiet a beat, then adds; somehow gentler; comprehending.

"I suppose is he to me as Christian is to you."

Then: Lukas is on the totemlink and Katherine's pale eyes fiick to the right a touch, she cocks her head. Thank you, Lukas, for apologizing, , a beat, I must however caution you for tact's sake that Martin is in my kitchen at present and if you are ungracious to him, I will be throw you out on your behind.

Another beat.

With all due respect.

[Katherine Bellamonte] [hello typos! ahem. "I will be forced to" that should read.]

[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] "Oh," she says, then calls out to Martin, "does she yell at you in a foreign language and throw things, too?"

[Ilari Martin] Though he isn't visible, the smile--and mild confusion--that stains the kinsman's voice can be picked up from where the two females are standing.

"That isn't even the half of it!" he calls back.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] He -- what?

A minute later the glass door to the pool room rattles noisily open. Lukas doesn't quite storm out, but it's a close call. His footsteps are heavy, his shoulders swaying. He tugs on his swim robe -- a blue almost as dark as black -- as he comes. Ilari gets once glance and a single "Ugh!" before he swings around to look at Katherine.

What are you, together again? There's a pause -- the totem link close enough, permeable enough, that some of Lukas's dislike and disgust leaks through before he clamps down on it.

This is level, his eyes intent on Katherine: Do you love him?

[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] This suddenly becomes too much sensory input. She laughs at the reply. She doesn't even know the older man, but it seems that Katherine's house is full of people and they're emerging from strange places. The enxt thing she knows, some tall, soggy man is coming in. The first thing Cordelia notices is that she is no longer the tallest person in the room. The second thing he notices is that he and Katherine are just staring at each other.

The blonde takes this opportunity to turn, slowly, and go investigate the kitchen. Water sounded nice. Also, washing her mascara off.

[Ilari Martin] The kinsman is on his way out of the kitchen when an Ugh! catches his attention. Bleary-eyed and subdued by sleep inertia, he looks over at the source of the noise to find a tall, dripping-wet Czech. It isn't enough to grab his attention, or if it is, he's too groggy to summon the gall necessary to fire off a thoughtless yet nevertheless incendiary comment in passing.

Granted... Martin is forty-one years old; his memory isn't what it used to be, and the odds of him having forgotten Lukas since their paths last crossed over a month ago are strangely high. He stops only briefly, then cuts the Ahroun a half-hearted, silent wave before continuing on his trajectory towards Kate's bedroom.

[Ilari Martin] [Yeah just make that post make some semblance of sense, I r tired.]

[Katherine Bellamonte] Yes, she says without rising physically or emotionally to the sensibilities present in her Alpha's voice, projected into her mind. And yes, there's a brief moment when Katherine's attention skirts back to Cordelia and some semblance of apology resides there before her attention returns to Lukas.

What Cordelia must see, or imagine she does is an unvoiced conversation; perhaps even a confrontation. She cannot hear it, but somehow, she senses it is occurring. I never stopped loving him, Lukas, I know you do not like him, I know you believe he is not my worth, but I believe he is, and I wish him in my life. I know Sinclair dislikes him also, we have discussed it. I would be a poor Half Moon to say I was not saddened that you put so little faith in my judgment of others as to assume I have no idea of what I'm doing to take up with him again.

I am not always sane, Lukas. But I know my own heart better than you. Trust that, if nothing else.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] It's a strange thing, watching wolves communicate without words. Lukas bursts out of the pool room. He not-quite-storms into the living room. He faces Kate, they stare at each other -- the Ahroun leaning forward slightly, feet apart, body language speaking of aggression and bewilderment, though not violence. In response, perhaps there's something more like weariness in Katherine, and perhaps even a touch of wariness, but only a scarce few seconds pass

(not long after yes, and yes, for that matter)

before Lukas, inexplicably, starts to shake his head and wave a hand in the air as though to deny or brush away whatever inaudible things Kate might be saying.

That's enough for me, he says simply. If you love him, then I'll accept that. A long time ago I told all of you to fuck off because Dani&+269;ka was my business and mine alone. I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't allow you the same freedom. Even if I think he's a --

he cuts himself off there. He cuts himself off on several levels, and most especially on that truth that burns him even now. As far as Lukas knows, Katherine still doesn't know about Ilari and Danicka. It's one truth -- perhaps the only -- that Lukas chooses not to divulge. It's the one time he chooses to conceal the truth like a Shadow Lord, and for the most unLordly reason of all:

mercy. Because it's in the past, indelible but over and done with. At best, absolutely nothing good can come of Katherine knowing; at worst, it could lodge under her skin like a splinter, bite at her for years to come.

-- well. It doesn't matter what I think of him. If you love him, you love him.

[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] It would have been one of the more bizarre things she's watched had she nod had a pack in her living room recently. It was eerily silent in the apartment, aside from the occasional laugh, the asking of her to get something, or the beginnings of a fight breaking out.

There wasn't a fight breaking out, though. They were just standing in the living room, gesturing at each other ever so often.

She turns on the sink, and takes her glasses off. She splashes some water on her face, rubs her cheeks, and concludes that untucking her shirt and using the tails might make for a good wash cloth if she can't find the paper towels. Cordelia is a great and many things, but kitchen-savvy is not one of them. However, she had been here in the past, and with minimal effort she finds a paper towel and makes what's left of her mascara disappear.

The puts her glasses back on, and takes the opportunity to test message her sister.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine had known Lukas a long time, as far as Garou went. A longer time, as far as pack-mates went. They had been through much together, they had grown up as warriors and people together. Her respect for the Shadow Lord was tantamount; she trusted him, she advised him; she understood him. The latter had not come without significant effort on her behalf, and on his; their tribes were not, in historical terms, known for their tolerance of one another.

To follow under a Shadow Lord's totem, had tested the tolerance of many in Katherine's family.

But his approval; his understanding also meant much to her. Katherine had tried hard to overcome her initial dislike of his mate to become if not friends, at least tolerable to her to make occasions when they were forced into association bearable for the Kinswoman. She does not echo any of these thoughts at Lukas, but he can feel her initial defensiveness, and then her gratitude for his understanding -- if not his appreciation for Martin -- of her desire on the matter.

He is not all bad, Lukas. One day, you will see it, as I did with Danicka. Katherine's final word on the matter is a raised eyebrow, and then she rises, pats her Alpha on his wet shoulder, and pads into the kitchen after Cordelia.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas's only reply to that is a sort of disgruntled noise. She pats him on the shoulder and he says aloud -- albeit in an undertone, "Sweaty. Sticky. Gross! Bacteria!"

Then she's past. He listens for the kitchen faucet turning on, trying not to smirk.

[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] Katherine comes into the kitchen, and Cordelia's got a paper towel in one hand and a cell phone in the other. She looks decidedly less a mess- more like she woke up on the wrong side of bed from a night out than she does a bad night out.

"I couldn't find your waste basket," which translates out to I didn't look for it.

[Katherine Bellamonte] The Philodox's brow wrinkles; she tshes at her pack-mate and does indeed head for the sink to wash off her fingertips but but not before she nudges open the cabinet beneath the sink for Cordelia and exposes the concealed trash can. The Half Moon stands to one side as she disposes of her ball of paper towel and adds; lightly.

"Cordelia, perhaps tonight is not the night for our discussion. However, we shall talk about it, I promise you. If you wish it," here is a curious thing; a moment of true comprehension from Katherine. "I have no truly touched Christian's room since he left; you would be welcome to sleep there."

Her pale eyes suggest what she does not voice.

[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] She doesn't say anything for a moment, she just throws away her paper towel and makes sure that she has her things. Perhaps it's best that they not have this conversation tonight. She nods, confirmation that, yes, she does want to talk about it. Whatever it is. Be it tribal matters or what was eating her or what she can do and all those flavors in between. Kate gets it, Cordelia smiles. It's that genuine thing again. She really it pretty, funny it's been so hard to notice until now.

"I appreciate it," she says, "goodnight, Katherine."

She starts to head off in the direction that she knows Christian's room is in. She even turns back and, "goodnight."

Lukas got one too. And it's off to bed with her.