play by play.

[August Grant] It was passed dinner time - thus, the Brotherhood's downstairs dining room had mostly cleared out. Several people were still scattered about, however - including a young blonde woman with enough breeding that even a Silver Fang might not turn their nose up at it.

She sat at one of the two person tables off to the side. No one was with her, but it didn't seem to bother her - it looked like she'd just finished dinner and was now nibbling on a piece of chocolate cake dripping with chocolate sauce. The kin who ran this establishment knew her well - and new how she liked her desert.

Her blonde hair was neatly pulled up. Her features fine, fresh. Her attire was a little old fashioned, a button up shirt and a knee length jean skirt. She looked like she might have just fallen off of the turnip truck, actually. But, is was no matter - there was something else that was usually noticed first about August. The kinswoman was pregnant. Very pregnant in fact. There was no hiding it now.

[Victor Oseragighte] He has kept to himself largely since arriving, taking up a room at the bording house. He descends tonight to find something to eat. By now they knew that he was on a pretty strict diet, and when he takes a seat silently his plate is loaded with meat and little else save for a few garnishings his system should be able to handle (after all, even a wolf was not a total carnivore).

He takes his seat at a table nearby, nodding politely as he settled down. Victor is dressed simply; blue jeans, red and gray polo shirt, hard-toed boots.

[August Grant] A slender hand rose in greeting - and in that hand, was a fork, with a small piece of cake on it. She wiggled it a bit in a wave and smiled, then proceeded to eat the cake.

She wasn't the type of kin who could pick out just who was who on sight - but, since he seemed to have come from upstairs.. well - then he was likely a friend. All-in-all, August was just a nice girl.. and it showed.

[Victor Oseragighte] The wave gives him pause and he returns it, smiling back. He looks around a moment before rising, taking his tray, nodding to the empty seat across from her, a silent request to join her, with just a gesture and a look.

[August Grant] "Sure.. sure.." She grinned and reached across the table to move her items from where they sprawled over her 'half' of the table.. so that he could have some room. It wasn't much, just a few glasses, a book - on pregnancy no less - and her chocolate cake.

"Hi!" Yup, she was for sure bubbly today. "I'm August." Her fork was set down - she must have felt introductions were important. Thus, a soft hand was offered out.

[Victor Oseragighte] He sits and is about to dig in when she offers her hand. Fork goes down and a smile spreads as he accepts it carefully over their meals, a firm, simple shake. "Victor." His accent is not American, though with just one word it can be difficult to place.

[August Grant] She shakes the hand and then releases it - her own hand going to wrap around her glass of milk. She takes a small sip, and waits for him to take a few bites of food before she continues on.

"I don't think I've seen you around before.. new in town?"

[Victor Oseragighte] He nods as he starts to eat, answering her only once his mouth was not full. "Week and a half or so. Still getting to know the place. People. Lived here once as a kid, though." Aside from the meat on his plate he has a tall glass of milk and another of water.

[August Grant] "Is it treating you well so far..?" A beat. "The people of this city that is? Is it much like you remember?"

[Victor Oseragighte] "Not much. Don't remember too much, though. Was pretty young." It is readily apparent that Victor doesn't use two words where one will do, his speaking style terse but not impolite. "Jury's still out, but... I am mostly liking it here."

[Edwin Morr] ((BotME))
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 6, 7, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)

[August Grant] Well.. lately her company has been less than idea. Either, no one, aka an empty pack house, or one very odd Shadow Lord - whom she was entirely undecided if she enjoyed speaking to or not. So, a few words was bette than no words. Plus, it seemed that August had enough words for them both.

"Ah.. I see. Well.. I do hope that it turns out well for you. It's a fairly nice city. I showed up in the winter - not so much fun.. but the weather is wonderful now.. so at least you arrived now." A beat. "How's the food? I think they do an excellent job here.."

[Edwin Morr] ((Houdini trick))
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6) Re-rolls: 2

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] The Brotherhood isn't quite so jampacked these days as it was, but there's still constant noise, constant activity. The kitchen's bustling downstairs -- Sunday dinners, families coming in from the neighborhood to enjoy hearty, homestyle, vague ethnic meals. Somewhere down the upstairs hallways, someone's playing music. Someone in the shower drops a bottle of shampoo -- a series of loud, echoing thumps culminating in a exclaimed Shit!

The door to room 2 opens. Lukas comes out, rumpled, yawning. Like so many other Garou, his schedule's turned around, nocturnal. 9pm's a perfectly good time to wake up. His black hair is tousled. He's in a plain t-shirt, light grey; drawstring slacks, dark grey. He has a tumbler in hand and a toothbrush. Padding up the hall to grab fresh towels out of the linen closet, he passes the common room -- peers in squinting at the lights, yawns again.

"Hey," is his offhanded greeting toward the occupants. Then he's out of sight. A cupboard thumps open and shut. Coming back, he has a bath towel over his shoulder, and he's scrubbing sleep out of his eyes with the heel of his hand. "The herbed rack of lamb is first-class."

[Victor Oseragighte] He smiled and nodded again. She gets the impression that despite his interest in his meal and his quiet demeanor he is listening intently to what she says. When Lukas comes by he nods to him as well. A cant of his head at the rack of lamb... that DID sound good. And probably entirely edible for him. There were downsides about his change in diet since his first change... and then there were upsides. "They've been very... accomodating for me. I'm thankful for that."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [doh. lemme revise.]

[August Grant] "Wonderful." Another small bite of cake. "Are you staying here? It's a rather nice place. I stayed here for a time, until I found somewhere else to stay. It was very nice to be welcomed with open arms and the what not. Though, it was difficult to make an impression here.. so many other 'family' members running around and such." Another bright smile graced her soft features and lightly glossed lips.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] The Brotherhood isn't quite so jampacked these days as it was, but there's still constant noise, constant activity. The kitchen's bustling downstairs -- post-Sunday-dinner cleanup. Somewhere down the upstairs hallways, someone's playing music. Someone in the shower drops a bottle of shampoo -- a series of loud, echoing thumps culminating in a exclaimed Shit!

The door to room 2 opens. Lukas comes out, rumpled, yawning. Like so many other Garou, his schedule's turned around, nocturnal. 9pm's a perfectly good time to wake up. His black hair is tousled. He's in a plain t-shirt, light grey; drawstring slacks, dark grey. He has a tumbler in hand, a towel and a toothbrush, and he disappears into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later he's padding down the stairs, marginally more awake now, groomed, clean. Passing through the kitchen, he grabs an apple out of a basket and otherwise stays out of the staff's way. The doublehinged door opens with a light thump from the shoulder. He heads for the bakery station and its bagels, passing August and Victor on his way.

"Hey," he says, and, "the herbed rack of lamb is first-class. Bagel's aren't bad either."

He leaves a few dollar bills atop the bakery counter. There's more money there -- off-hours donations and payments from other residents who've nabbed a scone here, a bagel there. Lukas bends, hands on knees, to study the contents of the display case with great interest.

[Victor Oseragighte] "Nowhere else to go, yeah. Seems a nice place, though." The truth was, there were some people he figured would take him in, but he wanted to get to know the locals here, and so it was better not to rely on friends and kin for the moment. "I find that if you are patient... you will stake your place. Time enough for everything," he added with an easy smile.

[August Grant] Hazel eyes shifted momentairly to the new arrival.. and all of his rage. It was almost impossible to miss. For all the times she'd passed him in the hall when she lived here, there was no clear recolection of meeting him. Then again, she knew he was important and well.. she is pretty much at the bottom of the importance totem pole - so it wasn't surprising.

"Hello." She responds with a friendly smile and a little finger wiggle. "The bagels are the best. I had one this morning, actually."

And then, breifly to Victor. "Very wise words.. I believe that as well.."

[Edwin Morr] The night was warm, scarcely cooled from the daytime heat and light that had scoured the concrete jungle below. The moon's lidless eye, widening by the day now, stared down without pause from the heavens above.

Within the Brotherhood, it might as well have not existed.

Still, it was said that walls had ears. Some nights that was more true than others... Nights like tonight were prime examples. A figment, or nightmare, depending on whom you asked, made its way within the confines of the downstairs, skulking from shadow to shadow in an overly fluid, hard to follow fashion.

To most, it would be as nothing... until it simply blinked into existence where before there had been nothing. ((7 suxx at diff 8 to see him ahead of time))

The creature looked like a man, a man named Edwin Morr. A forgettable figure wholly unassuming in his countenance, whose face could be anyone's or no one's without much help. Eyes that were gray, or perhaps blue, stared from the shadows of a baseball cap worn low upon his brow. His shirt was of a simple gray/black flannel pattern, long-sleeved in spite of the warmth. A black tee shirt peeks from beneath the overshirt, as did the worn hiking boots from the legs of the Wal-Mart brand blue jeans he wore. The whole of him seemed a cookie cutter, as though his ensemble was as forgettable and easily replicated as was he...

The only part that stood out at all, the only sigil or device to his clothing, was the Fox Racing emblem upon the bill of the baseball cap, done in raised gray thread against the darker black background.

A lopsided liar's grin split the forgettably featured man... A grin wholly in keeping with the apparent breeding flowing from him. For all his forgettable nature, there was something about him that whispered of secrets and darkness... Shadow Lord to any who had ever seen the like.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] When Lukas came here a year and a half ago, he was a loyal Beta, a good packmate, a facilitator and righthand man, but no leader in his own right. He was a Cliath of no great renown, worthy only of a name more descriptive or unusual than the most basic, undefined and undefining name a fledgling Ahroun could possibly have: Wyrmbreaker.

A year and a half is a long time in the young, unfettered Sept of the Maelstrom. Long enough to break many Garou; long enough to make the rest. These days that name of his sounds more like a title, an honor in and of itself. When he introduces himself or is introduced by another, it's as an Alpha three times over: pack, tribe, auspice. No one's ever tried to frame him with another, better name because it's no longer necessary. It's the other way around now. His name doesn't define him; he defines his name.

For all that, sometimes that newfound responsibility and respect still surprises Lukas himself, and sometimes -- times like this, when he's offduty and relaxed, bumming around what serves as his home -- he hardly seems to live up to the significance he's attained. He's looking in the cold case, thoughtfully chewing his lower lip; he's looking up over the top of the case and grinned suddenly and disarmingly at August, saying, "Want another one?" as he straightens.

He's grabbed himself an everything bagel: seven or eight different seeds atop slightly moist, dense bread. Some cream cheese, too.

[Victor Oseragighte] His answer to August is a knowing smile and a nod, going quiet once more as he eats. While he seems quite willing to answer questions, it does not appear he will offer much more unless he feels the need to. "None for me. Intolerant."

[August Grant] "Oh, no thank you.." A hand motions to her now empty plate of chocolate cake.. before that hand comes to rest upon her very obviously swelling belly. "I don't between the cake, and the baby, there is much room for anything else in there. Thank you very much for the kind offer though.

You are welcome to pull up a chair and join us, if you'd like?"

It was only then when the kinswoman picked out the man who seemed to appear out of no where. Odd.. very odd.

[Victor Oseragighte] Edwin must have appeared in a blindspot for him; he did not notice the man until August reacted, catching her startlement and then turning. Since he did not see him appear from nowhere, he failed to understand what had surprised her so, canting his head to look up to the man.

[Edwin Morr] Edwin grins that liar's grin, seated calmly at a table near the bar. A metal flask is withdrawn from a pocket, and with dexterous fingers, he quietly unscrews the lid. Victor's canted head and quiet gaze are met in kind; Edwin stares back at him the whole while. Then, without averting his gaze, the flask is raised to Edwin's lips and he takes a swig therefrom.

He didn't make much of a face thereafter... But one who watched closely might see it. Whatever it was in the flask, it had to be alcoholic to some degree to evince that reaction.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas's crystalline eyes drop briefly to August's belly. "Congratulations. I didn't realize. Paul's your mate, isn't he?"

As he speaks, he's deftly slicing a bagel in half, placing them in a toaster oven. While he waits, he peels the little plastic square of cream cheese open, and only then -- all of a sudden -- notices Edwin's appeared.

That's almost literally true. The Ragabash has a way of moving about unnoticed, only to casually turn up when the eye finally catches up. Or rather, when he lets the eye catch up. Lukas's friendly demeanor shifts somewhat; he looks at his tribesman thoughtfully for a moment, then turns to get his bagel out of the toaster.

"Have you guys met? This is Edwin. Edwin: August, Victor."

[August Grant] The young woman shrugged slightly. "I live with Paul, and I love him - but no, I am not offically his. But, thank you for the congratulations.. only another two-ish months and we'll have a new little kin or trueborn running around here.." She smiled brightly and then glanced back to her company. He was the quiet sort, wasn't he?

[Edwin Morr] ((brb - phone))

[Victor Oseragighte] He notices the similarity between the two, Lukas and Edwin, something intangible yet apparent to the right instincts. A small nod is offered to Edwin, still wondering what it was that had so surprised August. Something he'd missed seeing, he guessed.

He looked back to her and smiled, dark eyes dropping a moment to her stomach before rising once more hers. "Congratulations."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Well," slathering cream cheese generously onto his toasted late-night breakfast now, "my congratulations to him as well." He drops his bagel halves on a plate, grabs a carton of whole milk out of the cold case, and comes out from behind the bakery counter. "Thanks for the invite," he adds, "but I'm going to have a quick word with Edwin first."

Which is where he heads: the shadowy, sly creature's table, setting his plate down before pulling out the chair across from him.

[August Grant] The young woman just smiled. Men never were good at math. She hadn't been in town long enough for this child to be Paul's, but there was no need to correct him. Plus, he was already off to speak to the sudden appearing one. No matter! The young woman sipped at her milk again.

"So, Victor.. anything interesting going on?"

[Victor Oseragighte] Interestng? He paused at that question, looking to be considering it. What would she consider interesting? The Spiral attack? The bonfire? He did not actually know. He took a long sip of milk and finally shrugged, answering with a dry chuckle. "I am not certain what would you consider interesting," he admitted, a straight-forward truth.

[August Grant] "Well - let's put it this way. I live in a pratically empty packhouse.. save Erza and he barely talks to me.. and then I come here and chat with the kin.. and go to work on weekdays. That's it. So, anything out of the line of that is interesting. But.. I know, it was a rather vague topic.. I guess I'm just out of stuff to ask.. surprise.. even I run out of words somtimes.." A sight smile.

[Victor Oseragighte] "Ah. Well. Spirals causing trouble. I suppose that would and should interest you then. Had some trouble with two last night. Afraid they're still at large. I think.... otherwise I am a bit new here to know much of what is happening. Sorry." He chuckled and realized that she was looking for conversation, and he was a better listener than speaker.

[August Grant] "Ooh?" She perked some. "You met two? All alone.. and lived? Well.. that is a story indeed!" That kinda indicated that he should tell it.. but if he didn't want to share - then, she'd just let it go.

"Thats so much more interesting than anything that I've ever done.." She chuckled slightly.

[Edwin Morr] Edwin nods in greetings to both Victor and August, a sly wink for the latter of the two while he waited. Then, Wyrmbreaker approaches... The shaded gaze shifts to him.

The liar's grin never falters.

"Now, jes' which quick word ought we be havin', e'sactly?"

[Victor Oseragighte] "Not a very good story. I almost did not live." He frowned and closed his eyes, then opened them slowly. "Grant Park. I was talking to Adrian. Get kin? One of the first I met here. Of a sudden, he is pulled into the fountain and I am blindsided by what seems to be a dog. Adrian is being.... drowned." There is something in the way he says this that indicates a special horror for him, more than natural. "In the fountain. I took the war skin, but... maybe because it was my moon, maybe the cowardice of it." Maybe the drowning. "I lost control. I remember now, after... I felled the 'dog.' A woman, when she reverted. Turned on the man who had Adrian. He was in the nearman, I think. He never stopped choking him, even when he turned to deal with me. One-handed, he fends me off, knocks me out, but it is with his bare fist, so I awaken in moments, come to my senses. Too weak to try to fight him directly, I had to crawl to the other and take her hostage with my knife so that he would release Adrian. I... healed some, but was still suffering wounds from the woman's teeth. He took her. I could not stop him. I managed to get Adrian breathing again.... and then Mama Ankle-Biter showed up to heal us. No glory. Just survival."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] The Ahroun settles across from the Ragabash. Out of his usual finery, in lounge pants and an undershirt instead, he seems paradoxically larger; rougher around the edges. His eyes settle on Edwin for a moment, but rather than replying, he simply pushes half the bagel across the table to his tribesman.

Hospitality. Neutrality. Old world manners and primeval customs.

"I don't know," he says. "You took off pretty fast last time. I didn't feel like our conversation was quite finished."

[August Grant] She.. blinked and then looked a little surprised. Wow, that was -quite- the story there. "Oh my goodness Victor.. That's horrible.." She frowned slightly thinking it over.

"Thank goodness you were there to save Adrian. Is he ok now? Did he go home with his kin.. or even better a true? Does he need someone to look after him?" Apparently, her mind had gone a different direction. Her protective, caring, instincts had kicked in.

[Victor Oseragighte] He had to smile at her concern, reaching over to place a hand over hers, silently comforting her, calming her. "He is alright now. I saw to that." He did not add the part where he was dead certain, based on things they had said, that the two Spirals were after Adrian specifically.

[Edwin Morr] "Well..."

Edwin slides the flask across the table to Wyrmbreaker... the smell from it is somehow excessively caustic and alcoholic all in the same turn. And faintly... it smells of corn. Though surely no whiskey sold legally had quite the content the liquor within the metal flask does.

Its scent alone answers that question.

"Seemed ta me ya'd made up yer min' 'bout whut comes ne'st...

Ain't too bright fer uh feller ta beat 'is head 'gainst uh wall jes' ta prove he's stubb'rn 'nough ta do't."

[August Grant] "Oh good." It did seem to wash the worry from her face. Her hand turned under his and then squeezed his for reassurance. This was a scary place to live sometimes - and it seemed like almost a scarier place to raise a baby.

"I am so glad that things worked out at least.."

[Victor Oseragighte] "They did. And will," he assured her again firmly. With all he had been told of the recent threat to kin, he guessed she'd heard some of it and was probably rightly concerned.

[August Grant] Well, yes - she'd heard some. Mostly from Simon.. and a little from Erza. Then again, how much should the little Coggie kin trust the Shadow Lords? They always seemed to be up to something.. especially Erza!

But mostly, she'd been left in the dark about the exact nature of the threat. "Thank you.." It was at that point, August pulled her hand back and neatly rested in her lap.

"I suppose I should be more careful about going out now days.. especially after what happened to the poor kin last eve.."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] It's courtesy rather than any real desire for Edwin's paintpeeling moonshine that has Lukas taking the flask and slugging it back. He can already feel it burning down his gullet when he passes it across the table and picks up his half a bagel. And his whole milk. Good nutritious breakfast.

"I wasn't aware there was anything to make up my mind about," he replies mildly. "It's more: I was there. I led that battle. If you have questions, I'll answer them. If you'd rather hold onto your grudge, then it's your mind that's made up, Edwin. Not mine."

[Victor Oseragighte] He nodded to this and murmured. "There is danger right now. These Spirals attack kin. Very much on purpose. That will not be let to stand. But... until then? Public places," he advised softly.

[August Grant] "Well.. I don't go much of anywhere save here, the packhouse and work on Simon's advice. It's just the back and forth that worries me sometimes. I know I'm safe here, and there - but, I can't just not go to the store and everything. I do have a pack to support.." Somewhat. She cooks every day. No one eats it, save when Paul's home. But, she dutifuly does it anyway..

[Victor Oseragighte] He nodded in understanding. "Go with another when possible. When not, go in the day, keep where there are people. Even Spirals don't want to be looked at too closely."

[August Grant] "Thank you.. again. But for now, I should be heading home. One of the kin in the kitchen get off now and she's agreed to drive me back. So, I should go with her. I will be careful. You be careful too Victor.." Then, the blonde pregnant girl stood and gathered her book and personal items.

[August Grant] (Ok, must depart. Cold medicine is kicking in.. thanks for the play all.)

And then August headed off for the kitchen to head home.

[Victor Oseragighte] He smiled and nodded his farewell to her, raising his glass of milk in a brief salute.

(( Enjoyed! have fun! ))

[Edwin Morr] Edwin chuckles at this even while ripping a small, bite-sized piece off of the bagel he'd been offered. The sound was sardonic, wry... but not without its measure of mirth.

"So... Yer tellin' me dat believin' I got some grudge 'gainst somebody udder'n our en'mies ain't you makin' up yer own min' on th'matter?"

He shakes his head, still chuckling... Pausing only to devour the bite sized piece of bagel. Then, retaking his flask of liquor in hand, Edwin lets his shaded gaze drift to the reflective surface briefly...

Before it again returns to Lukas.

"A'ight... Supposin' uh feller was curious. Supposin' I gits ta wond'rin' how three shaddah's walk while one whut ain't gits kilt.

Supposin' I's ta ask fer th'play by play."

He continues to grin that liar's grin the whole while, as though he were ready to laugh all over again at some macabre joke only he and the shadows knew. It only changed, ever so slightly, following each swig of the liquor in the flask... And then only to tighten briefly, in the manner of one well accustomed to its ilk.

[Victor Oseragighte] With her gone he ate in silence, though he did keep a watch from where he was on Lukas and Edwin, curious still about the latter and his effect on August.

[Simon] Simon slipped quietly into the Brotherhood's common area with a smile on his face. His curious eyes wandered and his smile brightened as he slipped into the room. Graceful as ever, the Full Moon didn't appear to have any agenda or direction he was apparently just paying the place a visit. Out on patrol and as Hatchet once said everyone takes their turn looking after the brotherhood.

[Victor Oseragighte] Victor's earned his own keep offering to do odd jobs for the place, having proven to be fairly skilled in such matters. He does not at all mind doing a little hard work to pay for the room and board while he decides where his place is.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] There's no humor on Lukas's face now, no smile. He watches the Ragabash levelly as he chuckles and grins, all shadows and lies. Then he looks around once, ascertaining that the Brotherhood was closed down now, the humans herded home, the kin at work mopping the floors and closing down shop.

Victor's there too, possibly listening. This does not appear to deter Wyrmbreaker.

When he turns back, there's a certainty in his air. He picks his bagel up, holds it in his teeth, and dumps the crumbs onto the tabletop. With his palm he spreads them in a thin, even layer -- an arena on which he then sketches with his fingertip. There's surety in his motions, in his mapping. Lukas is a more than capable warrior, a dangerous foe to face, but he is first and foremost a tactician, a strategist.

"My mate and I were at the Blue Chalk cafe," he says, drawing a long rectangle. "The front door was here," he points at one of the short sides, "and there were windows along that wall. The back door was here," the opposite side, "and there was an office here, restrooms here." He blocks off smaller rectangles in the back corners on either side of the back door. "There were cameras in the corners, four of them surveying the cafe area. The counter was here. Our table was here."

A semicircle along one of the long sides represents the former. A circle is drawn toward the back, not far from the hallway to the restrooms, the office and the back door, representing the latter.

"Lonna joined us. She sat at our table. Then Theron, who came to us as well. A waitress approached like this -- " he indicates a track from the counter to the table, " -- and vomited on our table. We tried to herd her into the restroom. She transformed before our eyes, sloughing her skin off and becoming a monstrosity. Others around the cafe were beginning to change as well, here, here, here, here and here."

Dots scatter the cafe between the Gaian's table and the door.

"Dani&+269;ka went for the office immediately to try and disable the security cameras, to stop the upload feed, and to delete all video that was already taken. Lonna headed the other way, toward the windows in the front. I think she wanted to block them somehow."

He starts drawing arrows in the crumbs, like a football coach explaining a complicated play. One arrow swoops toward the office; another toward the front wall.

"One fomor went after my mate. Another went after Lonna. Three closed on Theron and I. One was here, still transforming." He stabs a finger close to the front wall. Close to Lonna.

"Theron and I held our ground to keep the fomori out of the office. We were in homid by my command, to preserve the Veil until Dani&+269;ka could get the cameras down. We injured one of them, but it was a war of attrition. Meanwhile, the one fomor close to Lonna had grabbed her, but she was uninjured."

He pauses for a moment there, taking a sip of milk.

[sorry for the screen-crusher, guys! thought i should post there before it got too much longer.]

[Victor Oseragighte] With just the few of them left, it was only natural that he'd tune in to Lukas' tale. It is evident he understands the gravity of it, too, as his face becomes very serious the more Lukas reveals.

[Simon] Simon took a seat, he didn't want to interrupt what appeared to be a possibly private meeting. He put his feet up and leaned back while glancing towards the Two. He couldn't help but pay attention to what was being discussed, it was the only thing that was happening in the place right now after all.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] The mug of milk is set aside, then, and the Ahroun leans forward to continue his account of that fateful night. There's an irony in this. Garou have died by the dozens in this city; for the most part, their stories are woven into song and sung over their burning bodies at their Gathering. None have had their tales laid out like this, so clinically, in such cold, stark detail: stripped to the motions, to the events, to actions and their consequences that led to the inevitable end.

Then again, Garou are born to die. They have no problem accepting the death of their own kind, or even their own deaths. When their kin die, when their loved ones are stripped away, it's a different story. An unexpected shock. Something to grieve over in all its many and bitter stages.

"Another of the fomori began to make for the office," he continues, "and Theron and I both turned on it. The other three close to us were alternating attacks on Theron and I, biting and clawing, trying to vomit their filth into our faces to taint us. We fought them hand to hand. We were quick, but we did little damage. Across the room, Lonna was fending off the fomor on her when the other one finished his transformation. He went after Lonna."

For the first time now, Lukas pauses, his brow furrowing, trying to remember. He closes his eyes for a moment, bringing the scene to mind. It wasn't like this when it happened. It wasn't cold and clinical. It was bloody and raw, normal men and women transforming into monsters, peeling their own fucking faces off, shrieking, vomiting, seizing on the floor.

it wasn't cold. It wasn't clinical. It was harrowing, chaotic, desperate.

"Then Dani&+269;ka got the cameras off. Theron and I snapped into our warforms. Almost at the same time, the fomor that had a grip on Lonna took a bite out of her. She was wounded. Not direly, but not lightly either. The fomor was going after her. I wasn't certain that he would kill her, but it was a possibility."

There's a pause, heavy. The Ahroun's hand draws into a loose fist, thumb rubbing along his index finger for a second. It's the only sign of tension. When he goes on, his voice is as level and even as before.

"There wasn't enough time to kill the fomori closing on the office and cross the room to Lonna. There was time for only one or the other. So if you want me to explain to you how the kin of Thunder lived and the kin of Unicorn died, then you answer you want is very simple."

His eyes flick up across the table, implacably blue, the color of a glacial's heart; the color of an alcohol fire, pale and almost hueless.

"Because I chose to defend my mate. And Theron chose to defend the kin of Thunder."

A second elapses. The rest of the story is short.

"This one went down in one bite." He wipes one of the X's off the map. "Theron went after this one, injured it. This one," he points at the one on the other side of the map, near Lonna, "killed Lonna. Theron almost frenzied, but he kept his head. The fomori dropped Lonna and came toward us. Another bite did for this one," another X wiped away, "and this one," and another, "and this one," and another.

"Of the last two, I think I finished one and my mate the other. After Lonna died, it was all over in seconds. But by the time we went to her, she was beyond our help."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [er. "then THE answer you want is very simple."]

[Edwin Morr] ((Houdini bit))
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 6, 7, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1

[Edwin Morr] Edwin watches it all with that liar's grin upon his face, though with his eyes narrowed, the grin seems far less pleasant by the end of things. The metal flask disappears in a pocket, and Edwin stands...

"Reckon so...

See ya 'roun', Lukas."

With that, Edwin's form fades swiftly from view, disappearing into the shadows from whence he came.

[Victor Oseragighte] It's his moon, and he cannot forget that. He growls, a low sound from his chest, despite being in homid, and lowers his head in silent remorse for that loss they speak of. These kinslayers needed to be stopped. He had no doubt this was probably related to the Spirals somehow. It seemed they had specifically gone after kin, by this tale. When he looks up again, the other man is gone, and he blinks. So. Maybe that is why August had been so startled.

[Edwin Morr] ((Night folks; thank sfor the rp))

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [night man!]

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] And that's it. No comment one way or another; no anger, no acceptance. None that Edwin would show, anyway. Nothing but a noncommittal phrase tossed out, and then -- nothing at all.

Left behind, alone at the table now with its map drawn on crumbs, Lukas's hand clenches into a tighter fist; he lets a breath hiss slowly out between his teeth.

Then his eyes flick up; hit Victor's directly. "She was a kin of Unicorn," he tells the man. There's no reason to preface it or explain it; no reason for either of them to pretend that Victor hadn't been listening, "warded by Lila Waking-Dream, mated to none. She died in the Spring."

[Victor Oseragighte] "I am sorry. I will remember." There was nothing more he could offer, not truly. Meaningless words about vengeance? The fomori were dead and she was still gone as well. Advice there was none to give. No offer he could truly make except simple condolences and the offer to remember her, though he had never known her.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas's smile is faint, a little wan. "I wasn't close to her."

This could be cold; a verbal stiff-arming. It's not, though. It's simply honest: perhaps brutally so. There are Shadow Lords like Edwin, sly, everything held beneath a layer of deceit. Then there are Shadow Lords like Lukas: unflinchingly straightforward. In the end, each is as ruthless as the other in its own way.

"I barely knew her," he continues. "I'm sorry she died too, but save your condolences for those who genuinely grieve." He looks down at his breakfast: his day's just beginning. There's a bit of bagel left, and he eats it, washes it down with milk. The subject change is perhaps deliberate. "You're living here now, are you?"

[Victor Oseragighte] He did not respond to ask who were the grieving parties, suspecting he'd find out. Suspecting that, really, he knew from that tale. At the questioning of his living arrangements he merely nodded, allowing Lukas opportunity to go on with whatever point he was working toward with that query.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] There's no real point, as it turns out. Lukas simply nods to the reply. "It's a good place," he says, offhandedly. Then he pushes the crumbs together on the tabletop, sweeping them with the blade of his hand until he can wipe them off entirely into the palm of his other hand and pour them back on his plate.

That little bit of housekeeping finished, the Ahroun stands. "I'm heading out for Caern patrol," he says. "I'll see you around, Victor."

[Victor Oseragighte] Another small nod as Lukas goes and he considers that; caern patrol. Good way to learn the bawn. The area. He may have to take along some evening.

hatfields and mccoys.

[Edwin Morr] ((BotME))
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 3, 4, 4, 6, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 1 at target 8)

[Edwin Morr] ((Not funny Kahseeno

Finding a nice inky pool to wait in

dex + stealth + fox))
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Edwin Morr] It's a dark night, even with the full-ish moon overhead, staring down with that lidless gaze. Still, at some point, in Lukas' room, a note is slid under the door... In an unpracticed yet dexterous script.

We need to talk. Roof. Night.

Then, in the shade cast by a large, protruding chimney on the roof of the Brotherhood a man... or what looks like a man, anyway... waits silently. His form was blurry and indistinct, providing him something of a natural camouflage to eyes not specifically seeking him...

A useful thing for those who would not be seen speaking.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [counterroll!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 7)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas had snorted under his breath when he read the note. 'Night' is fairly unspecific, so it's around midnight when the Ahroun gets around to going up the stairs to the roof. When the door shuts behind him, the last of the lamplight from below is gone. There's only the light of a waning gibbous moon up here, and whatever is cast from neighboring buildings and streetlights.

Lukas waits a pause, then speaks to the shadow that most resembles a man. "You know," he says, "there are Shadow Lords who would consider it a challenge for a Cliath to set the time and place of a meeting with his tribal elder. What's this about, Leaves No Trace?"

[Edwin Morr] The blurred figure steps from the shadows, only after making certain that the Wyrmbreaker had come alone, and that no prying eyes were about to overhear the conversation. Then, and only then, does he step from the shadows.

That sly grin as ever upon his lips. His face was almost entirely shaded, with his black Fox Racing baseball cap pulled low upon his brow.

Then, the blur seems to drop from his form... His edges snapping into crisp detail before Lukas' eyes.

"Well... We's at th'moot here recent-like, an' I reckon I heard uh thang'r two whut we oughta talk 'bout. Thang's whut th'Nation ought not know 'bout.

Thangs whut need dealt wit'."

A moment passes, Edwin withdraws a metal drink flask from the back pocket of his jeans. Unscrewing the lid, he takes a swig of the exceedingly alcoholic whiskey, before holding it out to Lukas.

"Our dear frien' Laughs in th'Face uh Death tol' uh neat li'l tale. Uh tale whut's got loose ends. Reckon I'm th'sort whut's good fer doin' jes' dat."

[Edwin Morr] ((Addendum))

"... Fer tyin' up loose ends."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas steps away from the door as Edwin comes into sight. There's a small caged bulb by the rooftop entrance into the Brotherhood, but it's off. In the light of the moon, the Shadow Lords are as their names imply: shadowy, more darkness than clarity.

He accepts the flask, sniffing over the mouth once, grimacing at the sharp burn of ethanol fumes. "What is this, moonshine?" -- an offhand question. He takes a swig, passes it back. "What did you have in mind?"

[Edwin Morr] "Well... A li'l sum'in' I've had sittin' 'roun', gittin' more potent. Reckon it'd pass fer 'shine."

Then, still grinning, Edwin takes back the flask and downs another swig before continuing. The shadow-faced No Moon replaces the lid and puts it in his back pocket before continuing.

His grin widens... Becomes the merest hint unpleasant.

"Oh, th'rel'tive. Seems ta me th'Wyrm ain't one fer wastin' material. So, more'n likely he's still 'live. Either fer breedin', infermation, or ta be used 'gainst us later. Decoy our dear frien' Joey inta givin' em sum'in'. Sum'in' intended ta bust him loose, er sum'in' ta tell 'em where th'Caern is... Sum'in' uh sly'n' devious enemy might use 'gainst uh gal like Joey."

Edwin shrugs, and takes a deep sigh.

"Seems ta me, uh feller like dat... Well... Feller like dat might jes' be prayin' fer death. Feller like dat's prolly hopin' it'll find 'im sooner'n later, so's he cain't hurt dem he loves."

Edwin's grin grows truly unpleasant, and there seems almost an edge to the shadowed gaze beneath the baseball cap's bill.

"I'm of th'pinion we gives 'im dat. Kill 'im, a'fore'e gits th'chance ta git used 'gainst us fer sum'in' real unt'ward.

Her failin' fer lettin' it go dis long... Reckon's our place ta stand in where th'other tribes falter. 'R so's I been tol'."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] There's a faint furrow in the Ahroun's brow, visible by the way moonlight casts over it. His eyes, so glitteringly clear by day, are lost in the hollows of his eye orbits. He folds his arms over his chest, bows his head for a moment in thought, then speaks quietly and frankly.

"It's my opinion that Matthew Oliver is lost. He was in the possession of Dancers for hours, and then he fell into their grasp again. We have to err on the side of caution and assume he's already been turned, willingly or otherwise, and that the man he was is not the man he is now.

"If he shows up again, it's always been my intention to find out exactly what he knows and what he's compromised to the Hive before killing him. He may have been of the Fenrir, but he's of the Wyrm now.

"What you're proposing, though, seems riskier than that. Are you telling me you want to sneak into the Hive and assassinate him there?"

[Edwin Morr] Edwin considers a few moments, watching the Wyrmbreaker's response.

"Well... If'n he's turned, seems ta me dey ain't gonna be keepin' 'im un'er lock'n' key. So in dat respect, no, not sneakin' into th'Hive, necessar'ly.

But I don' think it'd be uh bad idea if'n he's ta somehow git kilt on uh foray outta th'nest.

Terr'ble thangs like dat happen all th'time dis world..."

A moment passes, two... While the No Moon lets his words sink in.

"I'm proposin' takin' some time ta keep an' eye on th'feller, seein' if'n he moves, when, where, an' so forth. An' assassinatin' 'im proper at th'most opportune moment ta git dat done.

Discreet like... So's 'is rel'tives don' need ta worry 'bout fun'ral arrangements'r nuthin'."

What was being said between the lines was clear... Kill the turned kin without Get of Fenris involvement. Make it a Shadow Lord matter.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] What's said between the lines doesn't faze Lukas. It doesn't even make him bat an eyelash. As far as the Ahroun is concerned, Matthew Oliver stopped being a Fenrir matter as soon as he was lost to the Hive. Twice.

It's as he said: he may have been of the Fenrir. He's of the Wyrm now.

So that's not what he's mulling over, brow furrowed. That's not what gives him pause. After some time, he says, "I'll allow you to track Matthew Oliver's activities outside the Moraine Hills and to take him out if you see a clean opportunity. If he goes past publically accessible areas of the state park, though, you are not to follow him under any circumstances. Your own safety is your top priority."

This isn't sentiment. It's pragmatism. Lukas adds, "The last thing we need now is for a Garou of the Sept to follow Oliver into the Hive's hands."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [less watch moar play.]

[.fly.] [i jus got home! i'll watch if'n i wanna!]

[Edwin Morr] Edwin grins and nods, bowing in an overly grandiose gesture...

"Ye uh so li'l faith."

Then, he chuckles darkly, straightening.

"Reckon I c'n play by dem rules. Also reckon'd ya'd wanna know a'fore I done it 'sall."

Then, a shrug...

"Dat's 'bout all I wanted ta cover t'night."

The shaded gaze watches Wyrmbreaker quietly, waiting for dismissal or whatever else Lukas had in mind.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas nods -- acknowledgment that Edwin can play by 'dem rules', agreement that he'd want to know about it.

A moment or two pass. Then he speaks again: "Lonna." Just that one word for a while, a name hanging in the air. When he picks up again, it's quieter, "You were close to her, weren't you?"

[Edwin Morr] Edwin now stares at Lukas darkly with those shaded eyes... His grin remaining transfixed on his lips. Beneath the surface, Rage danced... The wolf threatened to overwhelm the man that was Edwin Morr.

When he answers, it's only after the whiskey flask is again withdrawn, the lid removed, the top pressed to his lips... A feigned and empty swallow as his tongue pressed against the opening... Preventing the run of moonshine down his throat.

Then, he holds out the flask for Wyrmbreaker.

"Why?"

((Manipulation + Subterfuge + Fox, diff = 6, wp))
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 4, 6, 6, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6) [WP]

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [counterroll! how good was that lie?]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] There's a pause; a silence. Too dark up here to see Lukas's eyes, but Edwin can feel them anyway: penetrating, observant, steady on his bland everyman's face.

"Because she died," he says steadily. "Because I was there."

He accepts the flask, then. He takes a token sip. Hardly seems appropriate to toast a kinswoman's death.

"Don't pretend it meant nothing to you, Leaves-No-Trace. You're the one that told me a long time ago: you put up a front to maintain an image, but the cold honorless bastard you pretend to be is not who you are."

[Edwin Morr] Edwin takes the flask back, again pressing it to his lips. His tongue again closes the opening, and he feigns another swallow before handing it back to Wyrmbreaker. Then, he stares quietly... Watching...

"She died. Ya were dere.

Mebbe I'm ever' bit as col' an' honorless's dey say."

A beat...

"Whut're ya after, e'sactly, Wyrmbreaker? Whutcha tryin' ta git outta me?"

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] This time Lukas doesn't take the flask. He answers Edwin instead, instantly: "I'm trying to see if she mattered to a brother of the tribe. Because if she did, and if you had thought of claiming her on your mind, then I'm sorry I couldn't keep her alive. And I'll answer whatever questions you have.

"But if she didn't, then it's not to you that I owe apology or explanation."

[Edwin Morr] Edwin's chuckle is a dark thing... A terrible thing... And it's heard with every twist of the cap on the flask. It seemed a promise of horrors...

The flask disappears in his pocket, and for once, Edwin doesn't dissemble. The look that greets Lukas is nigh unto hatred itself.

"Oh, make no mistake... She mattered ta me.

An' when't comes ta sorry, I'll cut it out wit' m'own knife, once th'time comes. But you ain't th'one I want so bad..."

Teeth flash white in the darkness... As the grinning, forgettably featured No Moon speaks and starts to walk away.

"No... Dey's some thangs ya jes' cain't say sorry fer.

Jes' ask th'Hatfields. 'R th'McCoys."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Leaves No Trace," Wyrmbreaker's tone is almost offhand, "we're not done yet."

He waits for Edwin to turn. He takes a few steps forward, closing the distance until they're within a few feet again.

The question is frank: "Who are you angry at?"

[Edwin Morr] Edwin turns, still grinning that terrible grin. Face to face with Lukas, watching him...

"Why, th'Wyrm uh course. Same critter we're all fightin', right?"

The baseball cap shades the features, but in the darkness, Edwin flushes ever so slightly...

"Why'dya think I's off'rin' ta clean up th'Get's mess?"

((C'mon Kahseeno!

Manipulation + Subterfuge + Fox, diff = 6))
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 6, 6, 8, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "I don't think that's true."

This time Lukas doesn't wait; doesn't take time to read the Ragabash's face; doesn't even try to pierce the flawless nuances and cadences of his words.

"I think you can and do make just about anything sound true. But I don't think that's true."

A beat. He is watching Edwin now, looking at him carefully. "I think you're angry at everyone there that night because we put the Veil above the life of a kinswoman that mattered to you. I think you're angry at me because I put my mate above a kinswoman you might've claimed as your own. I think you're angry at Theron because he put a kinswoman of his pack and tribe over a kinswoman who was neither.

"And I think you're angry at yourself because you never claimed Lonna. Because I think you know the choices we made that night were made in defense of the Veil and our kin. Because you think things may have been different if you had claimed her. If we were protecting two kinswomen of Thunder instead of one."

[Edwin Morr] Edwin watches Lukas dissect what he sees to be the truth, and he cannot help but chuckle... A horrible sound indeed, given the subject at hand. Forgettable features spread wide in a grin that held no mirth.

His hands part, palms raised to the sky in feigned helplessness.

"Well... Ya c'n lead uh horse ta water, butcha cain't make't drink. Don' reckon us beatin'r heads 'gainst th'wall's gonna solve dis'ne. You'll believe whutcher gonna whutever I says.

If'n I cain't convince I'm speakin' true... Mebbe we're best served callin' quits a'fore we git all worked up over't."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [pause/wrap, depending on whether or not we catch each other within a reasonable span of time!]

[Edwin Morr] ((Thanks for the rp Damon; gotta admit, it's been a good one.))

pack favors.

[Nikolai] He rose up and finished his drink. Not really seeming to mind the Rage, like he doesn't feel that almost constantly. With a final gulp, he nodded to Mila and gave her small wave.

"Night all."

[Edwin Morr] ((Open scene?))

[Nikolai] ((gotta hop for a few, thanks for play))

[Mila Davis] (Yes)

[Edwin Morr] ((BotME

Man + Stealth + Fox))
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 5, 5, 6, 6, 9, 9, 10 (Failure at target 8)

[Edwin Morr] ((You suck, Kahseeno *baps*

Dex+Stealth+Fox))
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 5, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1

[Theron Locke] He watches as one of the males gets ready to make his leave. Theron gives him a nod in return before turning to the female "Hmm I don't think we have. I'm Theron.. who do I have the pleasure of meeting?" His eyes so warm and friendly, as he brings his glass to his lips for another sip, waiting for her reply.

[Kire Gustarf] He studied the new arrival for a moment, no words yet, though Nikolai's departure seemed to relieve some of the tense atmosphere around him. After a few seconds, he broke the silence. "Kire, Ahroun Cliath of the Glass Walkers."

[Edwin Morr] Night... The moon's lidless eye widened steadily by the day, as clouds scudded across it like ne'er-do-wells in cloaks hurrying about unspeakable business ghosting within dark alleyways. A creature, monster... What have you enters the room.

Its tread was light, scarcely audible at all, and it moved in a manner most difficult to follow. Smooth, excessively so, so much so that it seemed he was scarcely moving and yet, his progress was steady and swift in spite of this. The shadows seemed to grab at him like a jealous lover's arms...

As one who calls himself No Moon makes his way into the bar. A lopsided, dark grin spreads across sharply forgettable features... A liar's grin, promising of trouble and more yet to come. And beneath it, something of the veneer seems less genuine. Somehow, the grin made the man seem perhaps less than human, or more... Menacing, in the manner of a shark's dorsal fin, just prior to breaking the ocean's surface.

He says nothing to announce his presence... Indeed, he seems to magically appear out of thin air to all but the most alert and suspicious of patrons. A bottle of Jack Daniels upon the table before him... Somehow collected from behind the bar while Danny's back was turned to some other menial task.

((That's 7 suxx at diff 6 to detect him on a Perception roll (+Alertness if your character is paying special attention). ))

[Mila Davis] "Theron.. a pleasure to meet you. I'm Mila. Or Stormbreaker, if you perfer." She was the friendly sort as well - always wanting to make friends - it was easier to know what your friends were up to than your enemies anyway!

Had she been closer, and not had Kire in the way, she would have offered a hand in greeting. "This is Kire, he's a GW.. kinda shy.. doesn't talk much.. makes me seem like a chatterbox." She grinned and finished her glass of the amber liquid.

[Theron Locke] The smile remains "likewise I'm sure. I'm also known as Eyes of the Oncoming Storm." Theron Locke seemed to be a personable sort of fellow. Someone had once called him adaptable and it seemed to be a pretty fitting assessment. It seemed the Shadow Lord could be whatever it was that people wanted him to be.

A small nod towards Kire "Pleasure to meet you Kire. Nothing wrong with being quiet, sometimes it allows one to listen better."

[Mila Davis] "Wicked name." A smirk.. her gaze shifted for a moment to the bartender who refilled her glass. He got a quiet thank you before her attention returned to Theron. For now, she'd let Kire.. be Kire and let him pretend he was invisable.

[Kire Gustarf] He gave the man a strange expression that might have just been a failed attempt at a smile before turning back to his hamburger that had finally arrived. A bite later, he turned back to the two, considering what to say and failing.

[Edwin Morr] A slight klink of glass touching glass, perhaps less the accident than it appeared to be, as the bottle of Jack Daniels lightly touched the glass at hand upon the table before him. Then, without a word, the one called Morr downs the shot in one fell swoop.

That sly liar's grin never leaving his face, even as eyes shadowed by a low slung black baseball cap consider the trio at the bar before him.

[Theron Locke] Theron raises an eyebrow at the smirk "Something amusing Mila ?" he asks once she has finished talking to the bartender and he is assured of her attention. Fingers idly drumming on the top of the bar.

His food also arriving shortly after Kire gets his meal, a medium rare steak with steamed fresh vegetables and chunky steak fries. Cutting into the meat as red tinged juices flow out and he places the tender steak into his mouth. Chewing for a few moments and then swallowing.

There is the sound of glass clinking against glass behind the bar, and the Theurge's vision flicks to that location.

[ What was that? - Per + Ale ]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Edwin Morr] ((No roll needed to see Edwin now, he's not actively hiding anymore [as is evidenced by the noise he made] ))

[Theron Locke] (( ahh thankyou! ))

[Mila Davis] "Ah, hell if I know anymore Theron - I've been here too long. Too long trying to talk to myself.. or our quiet friend here." She motioned towards Kire. He was a good guy, but.. difficult to interact with.

"You lived in Chicago long? I never have a clue as to who's been here for awhile and who's new too.."

[Theron Locke] Theron turns and his eyes narrow slightly as he spots the familiar face of Edwin Morr. A shake of his head as his face goes calm once more "Evening Edwin, I didn't notice your arrival." a wry sort of smile on his lips.

Then turning back to Mila "Well I'm here now so that might change" a grin forming on his lips as mirth touches his eyes. "But yeah need to be careful about talking to yourself. Someone might think that your mad and mistake you for a Fang." He then gives her a playful wink.

"Nah not long, about six months now. Came here with a reason but found myself staying around."

[Mila Davis] That.. was funny. The small sip of her drink she'd taken was nearly spit across the bar. It took a moment to compose herself and wipe away little drops of what she almost spit out.

[Kire Gustarf] Apparently attempting to shrink out of existence and teleport elsewhere didn't work unless you were headed for the Umbra. So the large Glass Walker remained in his seat, quiet as a mouse and trying (and failing) to be unobstructive. Another name was called, another arrival it seemed. Never again was he coming here to eat. Never again.

Still, courtesy said he should at least reciprocate Mila's earlier attempts at conversation, or did it? He was confused. "Do you have any guns?" Not the best topic of conversation and definitely a strange question but roughly the only thing he was comfortable discussing at lengths.

[Wyrmbreaker] It's always obvious whether Lukas is coming in from outside or coming down from his room upstairs. It's the latter case tonight, and the Shadow Lord is casually dressed: lounge pants in grey, a sleeveless shirt, unmarked, in black. He comes through the double-hinged kitchen doors, goes directly to the bar, and levers himself up on a barstool beside his packmate.

"Excuse us a second," he says to Mila, nabs a fry off Theron's plate, and then speaks to Theron. "Can you do me a favor?"

[Jesmond Krutova] Truth be told, Jesmond rarely visited the Brotherhood. She had no fear of it, or of what or whom she might find within it but rather simply little time to stop by it with a full time job and a younger sister to tend to. A younger sibling who was, according to a discussion had between the pair the evening before last, grounded for a week for stealing their Aunt's car and joyriding around the slums in it.

Occasion had had Jesmond witnessing an altercation between Fenrir as Teodora drove by; occasion had also had one of the Fenrir accidentally put his fist through the brunette Kinwoman's rear passenger side window [he had been aiming, she knew, for the other's face, not the glass]. That window was taped over at present, as the old car was pulled up outside of the restaurant, and the slender figure slipped from it; slamming the door hard; hinges protesting the motion with weary metallic groans. As ever when leaving Mercy, the former Fenrir-by-adoption was dressed in a pressed white uniform, a name badge glimpsed beneath an un-cinched overcoat.

She's checking her watch, the mild-mannered female, and shrugging her coat off in the hopes of a table opening up.

[Mila Davis] "With me?" A brow rose to Kire. "No there's not a reason to." Grey-blue eyes shifted over to the sudden appearance of Lukas. She gave him a little nod, acknowledging him and what he'd said. Mila want back to her own business at that point.. seeing he wanted to talk to Theron.

[Theron Locke] It wasn't even Lukas' rage that had given him away to Theron, but that familiar touch at the corners of his mind. The link through their totem Perun ever present. So the Theurge is not surprised when his Alpha, his brother pulls up a barstool and sits beside him.

The plate pushed a few inches to give his Alpha easier access to the meal "Of course brother, what's the favor?" and then a strange look towards Kire as he asks Mila a perculiar question indeed.

[Kire Gustarf] The man quirked an eyebrow and looked at the woman for a moment, the first time an expression had been so clearly expressed on his face. That expression was horror, 'no reason' she said! He shuddered at those words. A short glance to Lukas at his arrival and a nod in greeting and respect, he turned back to Mila. Ready to impart a timeless lesson upon the woman. "Always reason to."

[Wyrmbreaker] "I need a message sent to our brothers and sisters and kin." Another fry disappears off Theron's plate and into Wyrmbreaker's mouth. "Those I haven't met face to face yet. The usual spiel. If you could summon a few stormcrows for me, that's probably the best way to get it across."

[Jesmond Krutova] If the Kinswoman was cowed by the high levels of Rage in the restaurant, she composed herself against it well, took to a table out of the general ebb and flow of movement and hung her coat over the spare chair. A menu was opened and perused, and an order put in for steak with a side of greens, white wine and a bottle of water. The ordering was very quick, Jesmond didn't linger over her choices and she had a fondness for red meat.

Perhaps that too, was some hinting toward her true tribe.

[Mila Davis] "Perhaps, Kire. That's just not my style. I'll use it, if need be. But really, I got things at my disposal.. and so do you, that is much more powerful and scary than that.." She shook her head slightly and glanced back toward the door .. noting the unfamiliar one sitting at a table with a bottle and then kin with the obvious breeding.

Both, got a little smile and a raise of the glass in greeting.

[Edwin Morr] Shaded eyes turn to where Lukas and Theron stand in quiet consultation... Something dark and livid passes behind the forgettably featured face. Or did it? It was hard to tell with that terrible grin ever present upon the No Moon's lips.

But Edwin pours another shot and watches quietly... Shaded eyes turning to where Jesmond now sat awaiting her order.

[Theron Locke] Theron listens and nods "I should be able to arrange that. Guess your so busy these days, face to face meetings will just have to wait. I was going to ask you about when the next tribal moot will be called, it's been awhile since the last one."

"But in the meantime , yeah your plan sounds like the best one. Just let me know when"

His eyes then drift towards the door as he hears it open and then closed. A familiar face, his kinswoman who he had played chaffeur too a number of times.

[Wyrmbreaker] "A tribal moot will be called when one needs to be called. Did you have something on your mind?"

Briefly, the Ahroun's eyes flick past his packmate, touch on Edwin, then on Jesmond, each held long enough to be a greeting in its own right.

[Edwin Morr] At Theron's greeting, Edwin's grin merely widened... A small, brief nod as he sat drinking quietly. Wyrmbreaker gets the same at the Full Moon's stare; Edwin watches it all with that same terrible grin and shaded gaze...

[Jesmond Krutova] Forgettable -- is not precisely the way you'd describe the Kinfolk sitting in the corner, watching the goings on of the restaurant with a casual ease. Her hair was very dark, edging toward black and long enough that the strands loosened from the hair-clip she wore it back with framed her jaw line. Her eyes were shielded too well by distance and lighting to be seen as anything more than dark; her her bone structure was finely wrought; the slope of the nose pleasing, the mouth full and well formed.

It seemed a face intended for smiling, for warmer expressions that the simple nonchalance it currently wore. The wrist that idly reached for a glass of water to sip from bore only a watch, there were no rings on her fingers, and only a set of glittering studded earrings in each lobe. A female Garou at the bar toasts in her direction, and Jesmond's mouth curves in a polite smile, she inclines her head, though her gaze is perfunctory, and moves over Edwin next -- studying the wolf as it studies her.

[Jesmond Krutova] The Alpha himself, and his pack-mate are both cast smiles, polite, reciprocal things before Jesmond's attention is grasped by a waiter, bearing her supper.

[Kire Gustarf] Another shudder in horror at the woman's words, but he gave up. More and more arrivals, he went quiet, unnaturally fidgety over it. There was no way he could make her understand in the current circumstances. Instead, he took his chance as everyone's attention seemed to shift to the arrivals momentarily. Ducking under and attempting to escape without being seen, otherwise it'd get all 'see ya' and 'good bye' and overextend itself.

[Escape from Alcatraz! Dex + Stealth diff 10]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 5, 5, 6, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 1 at target 10)

[Mila Davis] Mila swirled the ice in her glass. An elbow rested on the bar and her cheek in her hand. She looked a little bored, despite how many people were here. It seemed she was having more luck with conversation when the two silent people sat beside her. Oh well, she'd live and perhaps take a note from Kire, and just listen for a change.

And.. Kire was gone. Damnit. Now all she really had was her glass to keep her company.

[Edwin Morr] Edwin's eyes consider the kin for a time... Before the bottle and glass are taken in hand, and Edwin makes his way to Jesmond's table. He seemed the most forgettable person in the world... His clothes unassuming, his features ordinarily sharp...

Yet there was something about him, something that hearkened unto dark tidings and whispered secrets... As though in being forgettable he was something more. Shadow Lord, it said... In words spoken by the very blood flowing through Trueborn veins.

He stops a few feet from her table, grinning that liar's grin.

"Evenin' doll... Mind sharin' yer table?"

[Theron Locke] Theron shakes his head "No , nothing in particular brother. So with everything going on at the moment it would probably be best not to waste everyone's precious time."

"Hmm perhaps it is time we moved to a table rather than the bar. Seems our group just got a bit larger." gesturing briefly towards Jesmond. Theron looks towards Mila as Kire disappears "Fancy joining us?.. not advisable to drink alone.. I know from experience."

[Wyrmbreaker] "Go on ahead," Lukas replies. "I'll start drafting out a message for the crows to carry. Meet me up on the roof when you're finished."

On that note, the Ahroun rises, claps Theron briefly on the shoulder, and -- after snagging a last fry -- heads back into the kitchen, up the stairs.

[Mila Davis] "Yeah.. sure, sounds good to me. Always nice to meet more family.." Mila slid off of the barstool, drink in hand, and waited for Theron.

[Wyrmbreaker] [thanks for the short-play, guys!]

sashenka.

[Ray Ostermann] Ray shakes his head, as he now observes the woman as well. When Edward wishes him well Ray gives the man a smile and waves casually as if they were old acquaintences.

"So long..."

With the ragabash gone he looks back down to Rosanna and responds at last.

"I've never seen her before, though...you have some competition when it comes to keeping our friends attention."

He says with a brief gesture in Jesmonds direction.

[Ray Ostermann] ((Sorry had browser trouble :P ))

[Jesmond Krutova] "No, it's fine," she responds with a mild shrug, nodding again when the Silver Fang excuses himself. There's a slight release of tension in her frame when Edward departs, the same sort that had been contained in her whist Caleb had joined their party the previous evening. Not a hatred, or fear, but an inherent unease around the tribal members.

It rang true of tutorship, of upbringing and the pre-existing grudges borne into her family toward the latter; not to mention years spent as the adopted Kinfolk of the Fenrir. "It's only right that I pay her the respect of staying in her home while I get settled, whatever else we disagree on, she's still my family." Jesmond's lips quirk in offered amusement, then her eyes shift minutely to one side and observe Rosanna and Ray, watching her.

"Either I'm very fascinating, or you have friends over there."

[Rosanna Kardos] "Well now!" Rosanna exclaims, without the slightest hint of jealousy. She seems more amused at Ray's observation than anything else.

She releases a soft, wistful sigh. Sliding her gaze back to her kinsman, nodding to Edward as the Silver Fang passes them. "He does seem rather preoccupied with her. I can see why, she is lovely," a wry grin plays across lush lips, "But I am not worried about competition, even if she has caught his eyes."

Rosanna brushes past Ray, shoulder brushing his arm in the slightest contact, "He isn't the one who's attention I am trying to hold at the moment."

With that, Rosanna steps away from Ray, boot heels clicking on the pavement as she puts distance between them, her eyes on Theron - quirking an eyebrow at him for a moment and then she looks away, considering a direction to go into and how to spend the rest of her evening. She clearly looks to be done with standing around and ready to move on.

[Theron Locke] Theron raises an eyebrow as he watches Jesmond instantly relax once Edward leaves their small gathering. He doesn't comment on it though, perhaps he puts it down to just being yet another new face being met for the first time.

"Hmm yes I suppose you are right there. A small price to pay for doing things the right way."

Theron smiles then as his eyes twinkle in mirth "Perhaps the answer to both of those is yes. The woman is Rosanna Kardos a fellow member of our tribe. I don't know the other gentleman but I believe he is one of ours also."

He catches the quirk brow offered too him, offering her a quirked brow in response as much asking ~What?~ than anything else. Turning to Jesmond as he offers an invitation "Perhaps we should join them, so introductions can be made all around."

[Ray Ostermann] His smile grows at her reaction, obviously having expected her to react in that way and watches her step away. He gives her a brief wave, as its obvious shes not coming back and as he speaks a light laugh follows his words through the air.

"As always Rosanna, it has been a pleasure. Good night."

His last words are almost sing song, as if he finds it all quite amusing. But there is no hint of cruelty, just a good natured jest before he considers Theron and Jesmond, now, he approaches them slowly. Considering, watching Theron in particular for any sign of hostility.

"And a good evening to you all...I don't believe we've met. Ray Ostermann."

To damn confident, how can he be this confident even now, his voice is warm and friendly as he steps up, and he even offers his hand to each of them in turn, his grip firm but his skin soft if they take his hand.

[Rosanna Kardos] Rosanna is already starting to walk away from the group by the time Theron offers Jesmond an explanation to her identity. Ray offers up his farewell and she calls back to him with a wave of her gloved hand. "Good evening to you as well, Ray."

Her steps echo around her, boot heels clicking away in the same quick fluid movement that surrounds the curvy woman. Theron and Jesmond left behind to speak with Ray as she has no intentions of stopping unless verbally called out to. As it was, she was already starting to pull out her iPhone and thumbs through her contacts to call for a ride.

[Jesmond Krutova] Rosanna is studied the way a picture is observed in a gallery for the first time; there are colors and meanings and depth to the image, but at first glance it is hard to look at anything but the medium its been presented in. At first examination, Jesmond sees bravado; she sees an air of confidence -- she sees flirtatious affirmation of self, perhaps, in the way she so boldly looks after Theron. She says nothing on it, she is given no chance, as the other Shadow Lord Kinfolk departs and Ray approaches, offering his hand.

Jesmond offers hers; her palm is soft, fingernails neatly clipped yet unadorned by any varnish. She looks at Ray with much the same consideration she had Rosanna, observing in his mannerisms many of the same outward qualities. It interests her, the way the city Kinfolk act. But perhaps she has grown too accustomed to the plain speech of Fenrir. "Hello," she smiles, her blue eyes steady, thoughtful. "I'm Jesmond Kr&+367;tová, newly arrived Kinfolk of Theron's tribe." She pronounces her surname with the inflections in place, though her accent is clearly American, so the Czech is barbarianized, somewhat.

[Theron Locke] Theron turns his head as he watches Rosanna start to depart "Leaving so soon Rosanna? I was hoping to have a word with you before you left. But if you need to leave, I wouldn't want to hold you up."

There was no hostility shown to Ray, just an air of resignation about certain facts "No I don't think we have... pleasure to meet you Ray... I'm Theron, Theron Locke. This is Jesmond Krutova."

Allowing the two kin to talk as his vision goes back to Rosanna waiting to see if she responds to his request.

[Theron Locke] (( ignore Theron's introduction of Jesmond... seeing she introduced herself ))

[Rosanna Kardos] It is difficult to see the physical reaction she has to Theron calling her out. Her back given the group, her head cast down to stare at the iPhone. At first, one may think she will just ignore the Garou and the group all together. But she stops, lifting her face up to peer over a shoulder back at them.

"I'm afraid so. If you want a word with me, it'll need to be in haste or another time, Theron." She responds, clearly not going to come to him when Theron bids her. He will have to come to her if he wanted to speak with her. She waits long enough for a response from him, her eyes flickering over to Jesmond and Ray once again, before settling on the woman once more.

[Ray Ostermann] Ray takes up a casual confident stance before the pair of them and his winning smile holds as he accepts their friendly greetings, his caution of Theron falling to the way side...for now.

"A pleasure to meet you both, so it would happen. We share kinship with the same tribe. How are you finding the city Jesmond? Are you ready to leave yet?"

His smiles breaks into something a bit wryer, jokes to breath the ice it works in the boardroom it will work here. He sets down his briefcase now, his arm at long last becoming tired. Ray watches the interplay between Theron and Rosanna out the side of his vision, but returns his gaze to Jesmond.

[Theron Locke] Theron raises an eyebrow at Rosanna, watching her carefully as again something flickers over his eyes remaining unspoken. He turns back to the other two kin "Hmm if you excuse me for but a moment. It seems I must seize an opportunity when it presents itself. I shouldn't be but a moment."

Moving as he heads towards Rosanna, face unreadable as he follows her gaze before settling his eyes back on her.

"Evening Rosanna" he greets her after closing the distance between them "Apologies for not saying hello sooner there were several matters I needed to discuss with my pack mate. I hope your well?" polite pleasantries given

"I just wanted to take the opportunity to speak with you face to face and offer you an invitation."

[Jesmond Krutova] She notes the briefcase, and deduces from it that the man before her was some manner of professional; though his business wasn't hers to judge at. Rather, she lifts a shoulder in a light-hearted shrug, her umbrella rising with the motion.

"I find it pleasing enough, though colder than I'd expected." Her dark hair, so very near to black, was clipped back, but stubborn layers slid free and caught in the breeze; they were intermittently tidied back with a free hand; grocery bag laden though the arm was. In Jesmond's ears, a set of silver hoops gleamed in the dull evening light; set above them by street lamps and the moon.

She glances at the Theurge when he excuses himself and hurries after Rosanna, before her attention returns to Ray, and she offers him a small, half-formed smile that was at once restrained and beguiling. "How long have you been here, Mr Ostermann? Are you closely acquainted with Ms Kardos, I believe Theron mentioned her name as?"

[Rosanna Kardos] "I have come under the weather lately, not feeling so well. Could just be a stomach flu, which I wouldn't worry about. I come in contact with lots of strange substances, could be something I picked up on a cleaning job, but thank you for inquiring of my health."

When Rosanna addresses Theron, it is not in the intimate way of lovers or with the fleeting glances he has thrown her way during the course of the night. She is polite to him, personal only in a way as one would see a confidant or close friend. She does not allow any show of emotion beyond that reveal itself to anyone that watches, even to Theron.

"What was the invitation?" He has her curiosity piqued; Rosanna glances down at the text message when the iPhone vibrates in her hand, it draws a frown out of the woman for a second, and she promptly puts the phone away into her pocket.

[Ray Ostermann] "Your would be correct, her name is just that. However Ms. Kardos and I are only recently acquainted. This is infact only our second meeting."

He shrugs, like its fairly normal for people to become so friendly with him as time progresses. He looks over Jesmond for a few seconds before talking once more. His eyes meeting hers, his gaze reassuring, like he could be your best friend.

"Are you from the south? Your lucky you know, you missed the worst of our weather, infact, your lucky you weren't here a few years ago."

[Jesmond Krutova] "California, most recently," she corrects with a small expression of amusement at being thought Southern. With her complexion, and dark looks, not many would have picked her home state. "But I had, up until quite recently been residing in Minnesota, quite remote country, where I was. I had forgotten the chill while with family in warmer areas of the United States."

She shrugs, and adds. "Silly." A beat passes, and she tilts her head a fraction, studying him from beneath the rim of her umbrella. "You're a local, by the sounds."

[Theron Locke] "Oh that is a shame. I'm not sure if you know of my medical skills, more so my mundane ones. If there is anyway that I can help, please don't hesitate to ask."

With his back to the other two kin, Theron allows a look of concern to reach his eyes. But he doesn't say anything further about her un-wellness. Normally he would tilt his head or offer a frown at how unreadable Rosanna is, but perhaps now it is something he just accepts.

He turns his head as he looks back at the other two before turning his head back to Rosanna "Hmm perhaps I should talk to you about it somewhere more private. Are you free later this evening or do you have plans? If you do.... I guess I could tell you here."

[Rosanna Kardos] As if on cue, Rosanna's left hand comes up to cover her mouth as she coughs into it. It is a rather convincing sound expelled from her lungs, that may lead one to think she might be coming down with something. Her other hand stretched out to touch Theron's upper arm, fingers curled around the bicep as she squeezes it gently, and then drops away.

If Theron knew Rosanna as well as he thinks he does, he knows she is always up to something, despite being unreadable. Her voice rumbles in a low purr, "I will be detained later this evening I am afraid. What is it you wished to tell me?"

[Ray Ostermann] "You'd be right, I've lived here all my life, though I haven't been aware of the nation anywhere near as long."

His eyes flicker over in the direction of Theron and Rosanna as if hes trying to discern exactly what is going on, curiosity flickering across his face before he relucantly pulls his eyes back to Jesmond.

"And what has brought you to Chicago? Buisness? Family? Perhaps just a case of wanderlust?"

[Theron Locke] Theron allows his lips to curl into a grin, as his eyes sparkle with mischief. His black rose always upto something it would seem, as her hand reaches out and touches him ever so briefly. His eyes changing and showing a rather different emotion as his skin tingles.

"Well that is rather a shame, but I guess these things happened. I just wanted to tell you that it seems my birthday approaches, the 15th of this month to be exact. I was hoping you'd care to help me celebrate it, I haven't finalised plans yet but I hope to organise something in the next few days."

[Rosanna Kardos] Rosanna touches her hand to her chin, gloved fingers curling over it as she considers this. An eyebrow arching upward slowly. "How old will you be?" She sounds curious, pondering what sort of celebration he might have in mind.

Knowing Theron it was an easy guess.

"If nothing comes up I can promise some form of attendance. Is there anything in particular you wish for your birthday, besides the obvious?"

[Jesmond Krutova] When Ray looks over at Theron and Rosanna this time; his attention to them is followed by Jesmond's eyes. "Something of a combination of all of those, actually," she supplies vaguely and then nods in the other pair's direction. "Would you like to go and join them, Mister Ostermann? I don't mind, I should get these back to my Aunt, at any rate."

Jesmond defers gently, her eyebrows rising but a little.

[Ray Ostermann] *Ray gives Jesmond an apologetic smile and shakes his head. His attention returns entirely Jesmond at that, refraining from looking in their direction, even turning his body to face her, facing away from the others. Showing that his attention is completely on her.

"No, my apologies my curiosity tends to get the better of me. In my line of work it is required that I know the trends and where everything is heading. If I do not, I get left in the dust. I take the same approach to my life in the nation." *A pause briefly before he speaks again redirecting conversation* "What is it that you do Jesmond?"

[Iona McNevin] Iona was taking a break from her after hours forging she was doing for Lukas. Her stomach area was healing still, and still hurt like a bitch to move, but she hid it easily over oversized clothes she normally doesn't wear.

She walked into the park, wearing her usual military jacket and hoodie, a huge saggy tee shirt over a lose black long sleeve shirt, and sweats for once. But she still wore those steel toed boots which was good for her job. She was actually carrying one of those old metal lunch boxes one would see construction people carry.

Glancing around as she came into view, she saw Theron not too far away, and others she didn't know. She moved to a park bench to sit down and enjoy her meal.

[Theron Locke] Theron watches her reaction curiously "I'll be turning 25 actually."

"Well here is hoping that you'll be free, otherwise a belated birthday celebration is a possibility." He then raises an eyebrow when she states that he'll be wishing for the obvious "Perhaps..." he says with a coy smile "or perhaps I challenge you to surprise me."

[Rosanna Kardos] "Hmm."

She covers her mouth again as another cough forces its way out, covered by her hand. She narrows her eyebrows a little. "So, I have a week to find the most gorgeous women in Chicago and present a harem to you on your birthday."

She nods at this, grinning up at Theron. "I will have my work cut out for me. Shall I include anyone in roster that you have a preference for? Besides the obvious."

[Jesmond Krutova] She does not seem offended, Jesmond, in fact, she looks upon Ray with some measure of understanding. They were Kinfolk to one of the more ruthless [so they would have others believe] tribes in existance. If they did not keep up; keep abridge of the world around them, then they were useless to the cause. "I'm a Nurse, actually," she admits finally, with a sedate expression. "I used to work primarily as a midwife, helping with the delivery of infants within my former Sept. But, it was a different sort of environment there.

Things here are," she pauses, considers her words. "Different. Not that it's a bad thing, but I do find I miss the simplicity of life in a more rural Sept. Things are kept simple there, there is no room for subtlety."

[Theron Locke] Theron's nostrils flare slightly as he takes an inward breath, but continuing to look resolute. It seems the games between these two were continuing.

"If that is something you think I would appreciate. But I believe I would be quite content with just the obvious."

He shakes his head, as he can't help but grin also "It sounds like you will. Hmm I think you know my tastes better than anyone, so I'm sure the task won't be that onerous for you."

[Ray Ostermann] "Impressive...while you may miss the simplicity, surely you must crave the intrigue, at least to some point. From what I have found, it is something in our blood." *He chats comfortably, casually, like they were becoming the best of friends. He meets her gaze like they've known each other for years.

"So will you be continuing as a nurse here? Or is a change of pace in order, I'm sure there are many opportunities within the nation here. If you know where to look."

[Rosanna Kardos] "I strive to do what I can to please."

She takes a step back from Theron, her head turning to regard Ray and Jesmond, "I believe you are ignoring your guest. Have a good night, Theron." Another move to step away from him, and then Rosanna turns on her boot heels and starts to walk away.

[Edwin Morr] ((Open scene?))

[Rosanna Kardos] (yes)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] If there's one thing the Garou have in spades, it's resilience. Some might call it stubbornness. Regardless:

Less than 24 hours ago, Lukas, Theron and Jesmond were all involved in an incident in Grant Park involving enormous arthropods and two ill-tempered elementals. Human beings faced with such an occurrence would never, ever come to Grant Park again, much less the very next day.

However: there they are. Most of them are chatting on the paths. One is standing in the parking lot, his coat buttoned against the cold, the collar up. His eyes are on the ground. He's frowning faintly, pacing a slow circle around some indeterminate, apparently nondescript point.

[Theron Locke] "Indeed you do." he says with a smile.

Turning his head back to the other "Hmm I guess I am. Glad we got this chance to talk Rosanna. I hope to see you soon. Good night" he offers her a smile as he watches her turn and start to walk away.

Beginning to turn as he starts to head back towards Ray and Jesmond. "Oh Rosanna, did you want me to introduce you to our new tribemate?.. Was rather rude of me not to offer." he adds almost as an after thought.

[Edwin Morr] The Park was nice, this time of year. Quiet... Cold... And easy to be missed in. A chill fog, just barely more than freezing, blanketed the area; apparitions both real and imagined danced their way from one diaphanous mass to the next...

So it was that a creature called Edwin Morr by some, Leaves-No-Trace by others, trouble-maker and ne'er-do-well by all made his way in the darkness. He wore, as always, a brown denim work coat and blue jeans, with a black baseball cap pulled low upon his brow. The bill of the cap seemed to cast his face in almost perpetual shadow, though it was clear for any who dared look that he was grinning...

Assuming they pick the almost unnaturally quiet and hard to follow 'lord's movements, wraithlike and overly smooth as they were.

((Dex + Stealth + Fox, diff = 6, stealth specialized))
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1

[Jesmond Krutova] "I've taken up a position at Mercy Hospital, actually." She confirms, raindrops pattering against her umbrella. She notices when Theron and Rosanna break apart, and her pale eyes regard the young Theurge a moment without allowing her focus to truely slip from Ray. "I was speaking only last night to Danicka Musil, the mate of our Elder here in the city, she was noting there is a Coalition for the Kinfolk in Chicago?"

Jesmond's smile brightens, her teeth are glimpsed; straight and white. "I must admit to having a great interest in joining it. I don't like feeling idle in the eyes of the Nation. I'm sure you'd agree there's nothing worse." She gestures to his briefcase, now. "What is it that you do, anyway, that has your senses so attuned to the world around you?"

[Ray Ostermann] "There is yes, I myself have not had time to meet Danicka or go to one of the meetings. But as soon as I have time I fully intend to. I already have several plans that i think will be well worth the coalitions time and effort."

He follows her gaze down to the briefcase and he pats it, like its a good pet, or a trusted friend, before a chuckle escapes his lips, thick and inviting. He then pulls out a business card and hands it to Jesmond.

"I'm a financial broker, i usually deal in resource acquisitions, though i have over seen several liquidations and a fair share of hostile take overs." *He shrugs, a bemused look crossing his face as if it was somehow funny.* "I'm just your very average soul less dream killing stiff."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Eventually, Wyrmbreaker seems satisfied with whatever he may have found. The Shadow Lord stops. Frowns at the ground a moment longer, then lifts his head. Clear eyes look across the parking lot -- mostly empty at this hour, in this weather -- and he rubs the back of his neck with a gloved hand.

Then he turns away, leaving the pale lights and the parked cars behind. His shoes crunch lightly through a rime of ice that's beginning to form again as temperatures drop overnight. Spring's a long time coming in these northern states. As he walks, he tucks his hands into the pockets of his overcoat, his dark head covered with a neat woolen flat cap.

Up ahead, his tribesmen; one packmate as well.

[Iona McNevin] Iona sat quietly and opened the lunchbox. First she pulled out some blueprint papers that were folded up and set them beside the lunchbox. Then out came the thermos, and she opened it, sniffing it and smiling. Ah, Coffee...adsill hot. Then she went through the food the kitchen at the Brotherhood made her. A sliced roast beef on rye with swiss, and potato salad. There was even a small container holding potato soup.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and sip it, then picked up half the sandwich and began to eat as she unfolded the blueprint papers and went over her next project.

[Theron Locke] Rosanna doesn't answer him, so Theron continues back to Ray and Jesmond Waiting for them to finish their current discussion before speaking. Catching the last part of what Ray was talking about.

"Ray it sounds like you have an interesting profession. Perhaps a way to make war but without the need for weaponry?"

"I also apologize for heading off like that, was a conversation I was meaning to have with Rosanna previously but didn't get the chance. It seems like you've been able to keep each other company though."

[Edwin Morr] ((Folks... I'm just gonna have Edwin head off into the darkness. I'm having a hard time concentrating, and short on time as it is I'm afraid.

With luck I'll catch the next shadow lord meet and greet. *chuckle*))

[Jesmond Krutova] Jesmond accepts the business card with a polite expression of thanks, holding it up into the light beneath her umbrella to glimpse the fine black print. She then slips it into the rear pocket of her jeans for safe-keeping; and turns her attention toward the approaching Ahroun.

"There is the Alpha of the tribe, now." She announces, and looks between the two men either side of her. "I should be getting on, it's not considered wise to leave a chain smoker without the source of their addiction for long," a brief, contained smile from the newcomer.

[Ray Ostermann] Ray turns his gaze to Theron as he returns and nods respectfully to the man and his smile widens ever so slightly as he comments on Rays particular line of work.

"Some of the worst boogeymen are the ones who dress just like me and fight just like I do. I consider it evening the odds for our side, if I do almost the exact same thing...just better of course. If what I've heard is correct, such a war will be taking place very soon, along side your more traditional war."

Ray briefly returns his gaze to Jesmond and offers her his hand once more. His his face and his voice sincere as he speaks.

"It was a pleasure meeting you Jesmond, it always in meeting a fellow kin, I hope to see you at the Coalition meetings soon."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Jesmond."

The voice that Wyrmbreaker speaks with tonight is a world away from the shattered, whining noise that came out of his mouth last night. Low, powerful: befitting who and what he is, the scion of a long line of wolf-kings and mountain lords; the alpha of pack and tribe and auspice in his city.

He slows his step, intercepting the kinswoman a few yards away from the others. She's over half a foot shorter, but between her boots and his easy, animal stance, the difference isn't so stark.

They look as though they might be related. Black hair, wild, sky-lit eyes.

"Did you make it back home all right last night?"

[Theron Locke] He nods at Ray "Hmm sounds like an interesting approach, we will have to chat more about it. I'm sure those skills could come into great effect. But you are correct we are officially at war.'

"Oh Jesmond leaving so soon? can I at least give you a lift home if you have too, no need to struggle with those groceries all the way back to your apartment."

His eyes are then drawn to his alpha as he approaches, nodding politely "Lukas, good to see you. I'm afraid you missed Edward he was here earlier, as well as a new tribemate for us. He goes by the name Sasha." He goes quiet when Lukas asks Jesmond about getting home safely, the Theurge allowing her to answer.

[Jesmond Krutova] She doesn't get very far, after she accepts Ray's hand again in a farewell shake. For all that its chilly out, Jesmond's palm is warm, and dry [healer's hands]. She smiles up [or perhaps down, she was tall for a woman, the dark-haired Kinsfolk] at Ray and repeats a farewell back at him at about the time Lukas steps up, speaking her name.

Properly.

There's no hint of malformation in it now; it's quite fitting for the Full Moon and surprise registers in eyes the pale match for his own as she turns her body to face him. It's very deliberate, that. A sort of submissive recognition of Alpha, of leader while all at once on the surface mere human social nicety. She lowers her umbrella, it's stopped raining for the moment and closes it.

"I did, thank you. I wondered actually if you might have seen a small gun here last night. It's a .38 Centennial, with a small engraving in the side. I think, in all the excitement," a measure of dry humor here in her tone, "It slipped from my purse."

[Ray Ostermann] "Of course, if you wish to, I'm certain we can meet at a later time."

Ray sounds all manner of pleased at Theron's interest in Ray's approach at the coming war, and a slick smile crosses his lips as he converses with Theron. But the approach of the Wyrmbreaker, as well as a brief glance at his watch takes his attention from the man. And Ray turns with a respectful nod to Lukas, acknowledging his presence.

"Sir, it is an honor to see you again." His voice drips with respect for the Alpha, as it should. But he still doesn't seem all that submissive, even here. The man still refuses to think that way.

"However, I must be going, I've a property to purchase, and some paper work to finalize. I wish you all the best of evenings."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] The front of his overcoat is closed and buttoned. Between his collar and the brim of his flat cap, his face is a slice of swarthy skin; brilliant eyes. Those eyes turn briefly toward Ray, and he nods to the kinsman.

"Just Lukáš is fine, Ray. Safe drive home."

He turns back to Jesmond, then, his hands coming out of his pockets to lace loosely behind his back. "As a matter of fact," he says, smiling, "I did. I'm fairly certain Dani&+269;ka has it now. Sentimental item, is it?"

[Sasha Hadziosmanovic] He'd been at the park - near the very spot where Lukas and the group near him are right now - earlier. When he left Edward it was with the intent of finding Wyrmbreaker, if for no other reason but to alert the Alpha of their Tribe of his presence within Chicago.

So, that's probably what has him carving a path back through the park with his Rage preceding him. The half light of the moon - his moon - lays a touch of silver against the black of his hair and shines within the inky pools that are his eyes.

Still wearing the nylon dark bomber jacket and the dark jeans, the hem rolled up precisely and neatly twice, Sasha would blend in well with other Chicagoan's were it not for his Rage. Thankfully, though, he is able to zero in on Lukas soon enough...a fact that gives his steps a little more direct purpose.

[Jesmond Krutova] He smiles, and so he receives one in return, a hand straying to brush aside insistent falls of dark hair from her eyes. "Then I hope it came in handy for you," she pauses, and then adjusts the strap of the shopping bag laced over one wrist. "It is," Sentimental. Valuable. "It was a gift from my late mate to myself," her smile seems more wistful now than anything, she straightens her spine when she feels the growing flare of fresh Rage approaching; instinct.

"Eirik had a particular sort of idea about romance. I suspect I was meant to swoon, but still," she shrugs, off hand as if it all meant so little, in the scheme of things. "I should be glad to have it returned."

[Ray Ostermann] "Of course Lukas." It doesnt take effort to simply use the Alpha's first name, he switches like a bike might shift gears. He picks up his briefcase at that and turns to go. He isn't going to stand on ceremony or any desire to remain...the man has money to make. And thats more then enough motivation to leave. Which he does, quickly.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] The first thing Lukas ever gave his mate -- thing, because deadly weaponry is hard to classify as a gift -- was, in fact, a 9mm SIG Sauer. That was what came before books, before a 'joke' from agent provocateur, before a den, before a usb drive whose contents would be worthless to anyone other than Danicka.

So: when Jesmond says the gun was a gift from her late mate, Lukas is perhaps more understanding than most would be. "Your mate sounds like he was a practical man," he replies. "And that's more important than romance. You have Dani&+269;ka's phone number, I believe. Give her a call and I'm sure she'll be happy to return it."

Another is approaching; an unknown whose bloodlines nevertheless were writ in his face. Theron had mentioned an unknown by the name of Sasha. Occam's Razor suggested this is the man, and expectantly, his face open, Lukas turns to face the Thunder-blooded stranger.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [swear i'll be faster. had to look up some details *LOL*]

[Ray Ostermann] [[Thank you all, that was one hell of a marathon LOL later]]

[Sasha Hadziosmanovic] His features are sharp and somewhat angled, his throat bears a thick scar which wraps completely around it. Feeling Wyrmbreaker's eyes on him, Sasha offers the other Shadow Lord a nod in pre-formal greeting. With Edward and Theron, Sasha had allowed his attention to be parted between Lee and Rosanna and Ray ... now, that does not happen. While he is aware of his surroundings, his focus is on Lukas.

"Hello." He says when close enough, his voice rich in tone and strong with a accent - what sort is somewhat hard to discern just yet. "I was told by Edward to find Lukas." And by Edward's information, he's sure he just has.

[Theron Locke] Theron watches as his Alpha's attention is drawn to Sasha. Giving a contented nod that Lukas had heard his information.

His attention returning to Jesmond, as she repeats the story of the firearm for Lukas' benefit. Watching and listening as the two converse. As if he was memorising new facts about the kinswoman, now he knew his name and the fact that he has passed.

When he thinks their conversation has subsided "So Jesmond I'm not sure if you heard me, would you like a lift back to your Aunt's place. Seems a long way to carry those groceries."

[Jesmond Krutova] He sounds like he was a practical man. And barbaric, cruel, clever, cunning and surprisingly tender when nobody could view it, wrapped away from prying eyes. But Jesmond, naturally, says nothing of the sort of man her late mate had been, she just smiles the sort of polite, agreeable smile you do when someone notes a hopeful fact about someone you've known who has passed on.

"D&+283;kujeme vám."

She eventually offers the Alpha of the tribe, her unaccented tongue simplifying the gratitude somewhat, before Sasha fully makes his approach known and Jesmond's eyes take the Half Moon in, him and his stifling Rage that comes with him, riding high like a cresting wave. She makes a study of him as he focuses his attention on Lukas, and then is drawn aside by the Theurge.

"Thank you, that is kind," seems to account for an acceptance.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Není za&+269;," he returns to the kinswoman, his otherwise unaccented tones crossing easily into Czech.

Then she's turning to Theron, and he's turning back to Sasha. "I'm Lukáš Wyrmbreaker," he replies. The Shadow Lord holds out his hand, gripping the other's forearm briefly. He's an Ahroun, Lukas, and his rage is unmistakable and unsurprising. What might be surprising, though, is the raw presence of the man: a quiet, animal assurance, a confidence that manifested in subtler ways than most Ahrouns -- or even Shadow Lords -- usually manage.

Which is to say: he doesn't try to squeeze the hell out of Sasha's arm. Or stare him down. His grip is firm, his eyes level, but there's an unafraid openness about his manner.

"Edward is my packmate. And you must be Sasha."

[Sasha Hadziosmanovic] Their hands clasp, hand to forearm, and a smile finally dawns across Sasha's thin lips. That Lukas' does not try to intimidate him is appreciated. His body is tense, though this is likely due to the restraint held on his Rage beneath his birth moon.

"Ah, then Edward tells me right description." He speaks broken English, his voice thick with a Serbian accent. "I am glad to see you." Or, I'm glad to have found you. Surely Lukas gets the gist.

"Sashenka Hadžiosmanovi&+263;..." He pauses, "Sasha." Dark eyes finally break from Lukas to find Theron as he offers a ride to Jesmond. Quickly, though, he returns his attention to the Tribal Alpha of Chicago.

"I have come to your city, from New Jersey." He explains.

[Theron Locke] Theron gives a nod of his head and a small smile, not wanting the woman to feel uncomfortable around him. Perhaps it is the presence of his Alpha around him or maybe it is that he wants to make a good impression on the kinswoman to stave off any unkind rumours that were floating around about him.

"I'm ready to leave with you are Jesmond, just give the word. I'll be able to catch up with Lukas later." Already taking his car keys out of his pocket in preparation.

[Jesmond Krutova] Jesmond nods, and, shifting her grocery bag from her wrist to grasp in her fingers, she hoists her umbrella and smiles at Theron. "I'm ready, let's go. Goodnight, Lukáš. Goodnight." She adds the farewell to Sasha, though stave's off using his name for tonight.

Then, baring any other reason to linger, she begins to head off with the young Theurge.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Goodnight, Jesmond," Lukas returns as the kinswoman prepares to head away.

New Jersey, Sasha says. The Ahroun's mouth quirks. "New York City, myself. Theron too. And half my pack. Sometimes it seems like the entire City's moving to Chicago."

Jesmond and Theron head off one way. Lukas begins to walk another, a tilt of his head inviting Sasha to walk with him. "So; what auspice, Sasha? And what does the Tribe call you?"

[Theron Locke] Theron turns to Lukas and Sasha "Evening Gentleman, I may return later. I shall give you a call Lukas to see where you are. Anyway time to escort the lady home."

And with that he turns and begins walking at Jesmond's side, leading her to his car.

[Sasha Hadziosmanovic] Sasha nods to both Theron and Jesmond. "Go well." He says before turning to walk with Wyrmbreaker. "Your packmate, Edward, tell of your friendship, your pack." They walk, Lukas asks of his moon and deed name and Sasha is quick to oblige.

"I was born under this moon, the half moon. In the nation I am called Strikes With Intent. I have no pack here, but will find one soon."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "See you later, Theron," Lukas replies, offhand, as the groups separate.

To Sasha, then, "Good. The Sept's short on good Half Moons. I'm an Ahroun, myself, and the current warmaster of Maelstrom. I should tell you now that there's a Hive in the north, which the Sept will be mobilizing against within two or three weeks. The offensive is organized along pack lines, so it's a very good idea to be looking to join one soon.

"If you'll follow a Silver Fang, you might try War Crucible under sklora-Myrgen. They're a fairly new pack dedicated to strategy and warfare, a pair of Ahrouns who could use a Philodox's level head. You should be warned, though, that their totem forbids any romantic liaisons, up to and including mateship. Gun Smoke is another small war pack. They already have a Philodox, Covered-Sky, but they're both Shadow Lords, and Covered-Sky is an exceptional Garou.

"If you don't mind a more unorthodox approach, the Sentinels are a solid pack under Buried Hatchet, a Fianna. And the Bogeymen do good work, even if Leaves No Trace, a Ragabash of our tribe, goes out of his way to act like a backstabbing bastard. They might be too superficially dishonorable for a Philodox's tastes, though.

"There are other packs, of course. If you go to the Caern, you'll likely see them come by to tend to their totem shrines now and then. If you don't find a pack by the time we move on the Hive, you're welcome to run with mine."

[Sasha Hadziosmanovic] They walk and Sasha listens very carefully to all the other Shadow Lord has to say. His own hands find a place in the pockets of his slacks, his eyes flash toward Lukas now and then before returning to the path that lie ahead of them.

"What of Edward?" He asks bluntly. "Edward Bellamonte. I have met this man...he says is packmate of yours...says you are friends?" His broken English seems to strangle his words, but he manages to string them together coherently all the same.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Yes. Edward, his sister Katherine and I came to Chicago together. We go back quite a few years." Curious, an eyebrow rising, "What's your interest in him?"

[sorry man, at work and got busy!]

[Sasha Hadziosmanovic] Sasha shrugs as they walk, his eyes wandering over the landscape. "No interest...he says is good friend to my Elder...is good sign I can trust this man...da?" He pauses a moment more before continuing. "I will see to finding a pack quickly..."

(Shit man. I forgot to set my clocks at home and I'm running late. I thought it was 4:50 and it was 5:50! LOL I gotta get to work...we can finish if you'd like, I get on from work at about 10-11 pm site time)