Showing posts with label jackson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jackson. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

lukas blushes.

[Danicka Musil] "What has she been given?" Danicka asks as she enters their... circle, so to speak, having seen Adara head through to the kitchen as she was coming inside.

[Amunet] "She was chosen."

[Jackson Montgomery] "Hello Danicka." He gives her a little smile and nod. He, apparently, is not drinking. "How are you?"

[Danicka Musil] Laying her bag down on a free barstool, Danicka starts to shrug out of her coat. There's that ring on her left hand, a plain band if ever there was one -- white gold, and the finish isn't even the gleaming, glossy kind. From the look of it, up close, the inside of the band is shining, and rose gold, so the very side edges of the ring have that pale, warm color. There are small round pearls in her ears. There's a bracelet on her right wrist, two thin bangles entwined with a slender, flat one that's been inscribed with vines and leaves, small flowers.

It's silver.

She lays her coat atop her bag and takes a seat. Danny glances at her but she shakes her head at him, smiling -- she isn't here for a drink, apparently, either. Not yet, at least. "I'm good, thank you," she tells Jackson. "You're two of the people I was hoping to catch tonight, actually." But before she gets into why, she tips her head to Amunet: "Chosen? You mean... because she's Garou?"

[Amunet] "Yes, Danicka" This is turning into a long night to end a long day. Another set of drinks is ordered. She's happy enough to drink for all of them, if need be.

[Jackson Montgomery] He stays quiet for the moment, letting the two women speak for now. He sits back a bit as he does so. It's not a skittish thing for him, it's just that he's smart enough to know that if you doesn't have anything to say, then don't just open your mouth to see what's going to come out.

[Danicka Musil] Her eyes move slightly between Amunet's poison tonight and the woman's face. Danicka merely looks thoughtful. Then: "If you ever want to talk about it, you have my number," she says gently, but that is where she leaves it. There are many reasons why Danicka chose not to major in Psychology, even if more than one person commented that she'd have an aptitude for it.

"I wanted to touch base with you after last night's meeting and ask if you'd pass along to me the contact information for the Kinfolk you know, especially those who weren't able to be there last night or who left early. I need to get in touch with as many people as I can to let them know how to contact me, and to pass along a few messages of my own. Anyone who is interested in an alliance or coalition of Kinfolk is someone I'm particularly keen on talking to, because they're likely to be the more invested, involved ones."

She turns to Jackson. "I didn't get a chance to tell you last night, but I appreciated how... calm you kept everything whenever you spoke up. You spoke with candor, respect, and sense, and I was thankful for that." A beat. "Like I said, you're only a couple of the people I'm hoping to talk to a bit in coming days, but since you were both here, I wanted to ask you both that whenever you meet new Kin in town, could you make sure they have my number and email address? As I understood it -- and I'm sure it will evolve over time -- this 'liason' position is just a way for the Kinfolk to have someone speak up for them to the Garou, someone who isn't their Tribal alpha and has a hundred other things on their own plate. That's all I want to do. So I want everyone to be able to contact me easily if they need help."

[Amunet] The beer is downed almost as quickly as the shot, and she's on her feet mere moments after.

"Jackson is your man, Danicka. He's got notes from the meeting and everything."

She doesn't look at either of them, fingers playing in her hair as she glances to Jackson, then moves for the door quickly.

[Danicka Musil] Her eyebrows lift slightly, but she doesn't move to stop Amunet. If she's dismayed by the woman's quick exit, she doesn't mention it. She doesn't show it. She tips her head. "Do you need a cab?" is all she asks, a bit gingerly.

[Amunet] There's the smile again, pointed in their general direction. "I'm fine, thank you. It was nice to see you both again."

[Jackson Montgomery] He smiles a little to Danicka. The smile falters briefly as she talks about about needing to get in touch with other kin and asking them to pass the message along. As if there's...disappointment, maybe? But it returns when she thanks him for how he handled it.

"Thanks. I'll be sure to pass it along..."

And then Amy volunteers him, and he blinks. She moves to go, and his expression turns into a pained frown. "Amy..."

He goes quiet though, when the two talk. When Amy turns back to them, he gives her a faint smile and a silent sigh. "Have a good night, Amunet. Give me a call sometime...we can hang, okay?"

[Danicka Musil] [per/emp: that faltering, plus overall read]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Amunet] "Sure, Jackson. Goodnight."

She looks around quickly, before slipping out into the night.

[Danicka Musil] There it is again; no matter how soft her features, how fair her hair, how gentle that smile and how demure that voice, Danicka is a Shadow Lord. She is not a daughter of Jackson's tribe, no healing-handed follower of Unicorn. It is not in her to reach out to everyone, to care, to worry over. There is an invisible moment, hanging in the air, when it becomes clear that asking Amunet if she wouldn't rather take a cab than drive herself after drinking is as far as Danicka is going. Or would go. After that,

Amy is a grown-ass woman. And Danicka is not her governess. She has not been anyone's governess for a very long time now. So she nods, and says: "Have a good night, Amunet. I'll see you around."

When she leaves, Danicka gets Danny's attention and says: "I'll go ahead and have a vodka tonic," before she turns to Jackson. She does not, perhaps unsurprisingly at this point, begin to gossip about the departed Strider kinswoman. She observes him for a moment -- it's always hard to tell how deeply she's looking with those murky eyes of hers, like swimming through swamp water, pushing aside kelp, seeing vague movements of silver in the depths.

"I'd assumed Amy at least had the contact sheet," she says, sounding faintly amused. "But if you've got that, I'd really appreciate you emailing it to me as soon as you can." She pauses a moment, then tips her head to the side a bit as she regards him. Danny brings her drink, and she utters a quiet thank you, but doesn't sip it yet. "I'm sincerely curious to find out who ends up leading the coalition. Who do you think it might be?"

[Jackson Montgomery] He looks at her, his brow raising. "Um...no offense, Danicka, and maybe I've got this whole thing figured wrong. But if you're the person who's bringing the kinfolk concerns to the Garou...doesn't that kind of make you the defacto leader of the al--coalition?"

[Danicka Musil] Her eyebrows lift. "Absolutely not," she answers simply. "The coalition has nothing to do with the new positions created by the Elder last night. I tried to make myself very clear when it was offered to me that I would work with Amunet -- or whoever led the coalition -- as a colleague, regardless of whether or not she wanted to 'assist' me as a liason."

A beat. "If you hear other people caught in the same confusion, could you help clarify for them that the creation of the Kinfolk and Sept liasons does not in any way impinge on the heirarchy or creation of this alliance, or coalition, or whatever its members choose to call it?"

[Jackson Montgomery] "Oh." He blinks, and nods. "I...my apologies. It..." He looks embarrassed now, cheeks coloring. They seem to do that fairly easily. Jackson is an empathic man, but he could certainly be a better liar and protector of his thoughts.

"There was a shit-ton of stuff going on. Excuse my French. And frankly...I was more than a wee bit nervous. The last time I was around high-ranking Garou of that level...well. Let's just say, I was nervous as shit. Especially with every kinfolk who threw something or snorted or threw threats around." He chuckles. "Shit, Danicka. I came to this city because, between you and me, I was trying to get away from what my family had planned for me and live my own life. Still help the cause, no doubt. But..."

He shrugs. "And then I was suddenly involved in this whole thing and what was built like a sign-up sheet for Glee Club turned into something I was emotionally invested in. So it was like Carter and Izzy and Nash were just kicking it bit by bit from our fingers. Long story short, my mind was kind of elsewhere. I'm thinking Amy's was, too."

[Danicka Musil] For the first time, Danicka lifts her glass and takes a drink of the vodka tonic. It's not something she usually drinks down here. She seems to sip when Jackson is blushing, as though to give him the privacy to work out his momentary embarrassment without staring at him all the while. When he's recovered a bit, she looks at him again. There's none of the demure gaze-dropping that she did when she spoke to Balance Without Fault at the meeting last night. Jackson is Kin. He has no rage. She is not worried, frankly, about what he might be able to do to her.

She's changed a great deal in the last few years.

Shit, Danicka, he says, and she smiles. Amused. On the verge of laughing, from the sound of her breath coming from her nostrils, but it's good-natured. As he goes on, that smile falters a bit. Aches a little, around the edges. She just nods. "I understand. All of that, really. I... heard about this new alliance and I had to work through my own issues with it, given how things went the last time. I got burnt on the whole idea of trying to work with other Kinfolk in some organized fashion."

There's a pause. She shrugs a little, taking another drink. "Frankly, after some of the displays last night, I'm content to let them go on trying to organize themselves however they see fit. I'm glad to serve as a go-between. We all have a tribal alpha to go to, but frankly... what if your tribal alpha is the problem? What if your tribal alpha's mate is the problem? What if you don't have a tribal alpha in the city for one reason or another?" She shrugs again. The dining room is starting to clear out. Jackson and Danicka are among the only people not being gently hinted at to make their way out.

"I'm just interested in who ends up leading it all, because when it comes to liasing between the coalition and the sept, I need to establish a working relationship with them." A beat. "Honestly, talking to you right now, I want to know why you aren't a name on the list of potential candidates. You're sensible. Respectful. You seem experienced in the ways the nation works, and you care.
And if I may be frank...you don't have... some of the baggage that Amunet seems to be lugging around."

[Jackson Montgomery] He smiles a little and shrugs. "I have my own baggage. It might not be as...ignitable as Amy's, but...it's there." But then, who doesn't. He smiles and lets out a slow breath.

"If you want to know why I'm not on the list? Yeah, I know how the Nation works, to a degree. About as well as any kinfolk, I suppose. But...it's not my thing, really. I'm not saying I wouldn't help spearhead things, but...I'm not the kind of guy you want as a leader of this. You said it yourself last night, Danicka...this can't be a democracy. If I wanna be frank, my instinct is to try and find what works for everyone. And we need someone who will listen to different viewpoints, sure. Try to find compromises, absolutely. But when it comes down to it, we need someone who's going to do what Balance Without Fault would do, or any of the Tribal Elders worth their rank. And say 'I've considered it all; this is what we're doing."

He smiles and shrugs. "Outside of my films, I can't do that."

[Danicka Musil] "Everyone has baggage," Danicka says mildly, when he mentions his. "It just matters how much you let it get in the way."

She sips her drink then, and people are shuffling out of the dining room and waitstaff is wiping tables, chattering about going to so-and-so's place afterward to drink (and bitch about work and gossip about the meeting here last night and possibly hook up). She just listens. He says his instinct is to find what works for everyone, how what's needed is someone to lead, not please.

She smiles. "I'm glad you can at least do it somewhere. You might surprise yourself, but... I'm glad that someone like you is involved, at least. It's just hard to find good leaders, no matter who or what you are. You can't please everyone all of the time, and you can't be a dictator." She shrugs. "But there are those who see a tyrant any time a decision is made that they don't like, and it's hard to go ahead and lead anyway regardless of their... well, bitching."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] It's a pretty big restaurant, the Brotherhood of Thieves. Big enough that overhead there's room for ten good-sized rooms, a huge commons area, and an equally cavernous unisex restroom. Down here, there's room for a large dining room, a full bar, and a bakery counter.

Lukas has slipped in the front door a little while ago. It's hard to ignore him; there's so much Rage there. But he's being unobtrusive as he can, and anyway -- he's lingering over the bakery counter, studying the pastries there. In another other restaurant they would've been tossed in the trash by now. Here, the staff leaves the leftovers in the cold case overnight for hungry residents, refreshing their stock in the early morning.

In the end, Lukas chooses a lemon danish. Maybe it's the closest thing he can find to candied orange kolaches. And passing the bar, he winks at Danicka and nods at Jackson, heading to the kitchen for some coffee to go with it.

[Danicka Musil] Oh, Lukas can slip in if he likes. He's six-four. He's a wall of Rage, a mountain of muscle, a host of other cliches. But Danicka turns her head when the door opens, when the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She sees him, and Jackson sees her go very still for a moment, her face a mask. He's going to the bakery counter, and she doesn't suddenly jump up and wave him over.

But her eyes follow him for a few moments, even as she's talking to the Child of Gaia Kinsman. It takes awhile for them to track back to Jackson.

[Adara Mires] She was coming down the stairs, still dressed in running shoes, an old pair of jeans and a white and pink Hello Kitty women tee. Her new tribal style tattoo could be seen coming out from under the left sleeve and going down to the top of her hand where it ends in four points, one over the back of her thumb the three others on the back of her hand. Her medium lenght auburn hair was tied in a ponytail, with a lock left free, falling over her left eye.

She was bringing down an empty beer bottle and stopped as she felt and saw Lukas. Her lips curled into a smile as she greet him "Good evening Lukas"She said in a polite tone. She has been in his presence a few times and knew she could drop the Rhya title btu she also knew he was of higher rank and they weren't friends. So her tone was warm, but polite.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [CAN I READ THAT MASK? i'm totally doing this just to see if i can. LOL.]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 5, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
to Danicka Musil

[Danicka Musil] [actively hiding reaction!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1

[Jackson Montgomery] "Thank you. I definitely want to take a big role in it, no doubt. I'm just not the person for THE role." A little smile. "Red and white concentric circles isn't a good look on me, and they aren't very slimming either."

Then he sees Lukas. Danicka watches him...Jackson doesn't even realize how much he straightens his posture. It's not fear, it's not cowering or being tense. But there is a naturalness...an ease that happens when a kinfolk is around other kin. It's more natural than when they're around humans even, because the need to hide so much is lessened. You block off certain parts of yourself for any reason, and tension will always be there. The tension of lying by omission, and that nagging doubt...will you be caught by this person someday? Part of the reason kinfolk need the Nation is that they can be who they are around their fellow kin and not have to lie about that fact.

Now Garou, that is another matter. Kinfolk have a tendency to shape up--or at least this kinfolk does. Maybe it's his raising, or maybe it's something else. But when Lukas comes in, what was already friendly and polite loses his informality, the tendency to use curse words, and becomes something else. A bit more upstanding.

Some Garou tell kinfolk they don't have to do that. Those Garou are wrong. In the eyes of some kinfolk of the Nation, it's not possible not to do so. It's huiman nature, and it's environment. He gives Lukas a nod.

And then Adara comes in, and it's heightened just a bit. One Garou is one thing; two is a bit more exponential. And while he doesn't affect the formality around Adara that he does around Lukas--perhaps it's something about Adren Ahrouns--it still heightens a bit more. Just the way it is.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] So he doesn't quite slip in. And his mate catches him slipping in, looks right at him -- pokerfaced. He looks back. He can't figure her out. God himself couldn't figure her out right now.

There was a time when that would've driven him to a fit of insecurity and anger. When he would've marched over and demanded to know what was that, what was that for, what, what, why, how. Now, he just looks at her for a moment, curious, then picks out his pastry and,

passing, nods at Jackson and smiles at Danicka. Just a little. No wink. He's cramming a pastry in his mouth as he's going into the kitchen, and Adara is coming down the stairs, and he's saying, "Hey Adara," or trying to. It comes out hnh, ah-harah. He bites off that mouthful, takes the pastry in hand, manages a little less muffled, "How's it going?"

Then he's gone. In through the double-swinging doors to the kitchen. How rude! -- only nope, twenty seconds later he's back with a mug of coffee, picking up the conversation like it had never lagged. "You get BroHo security squared away with all the residents?"

[Adara Mires] She had to chuckle at his greeting. One shouldn't laugh at a higher rankin Garou but well..it was funny. "I'm doing pretty goo. How about you?" She ask, still smiling, using hte time when he disapeared to walk to the bar and leave the bootle there

"Good evening Danicka"She tell the beautiful blond and nodded to Jackson "Hey again" She smiled to both of them and then Lukas was back and she smoothly moved to where she was when he went to get some coffee.

"To be honest" She say, answering his question about the Brotherhood "I haven't seenonly Kyle and Gina, both seem fine with the plan. It leaves Cordelia and Sofie, and I never seem to be able to catch them. I think they are ok with it, if not I probably would have heard something. I did write that any comment or suggestion would be welcome. Still I won't presume and will leave them a note. If I have no reply then they won't be able to say that I haven't reached out for them"

She shrugh slightly "I hope the meeting went the way you and Balance Without Fault wanted, yesterday?"

[Danicka Musil] That makes her laugh briefly -- the description of a target painted right on his back. "Hear, hear," she mutters, and takes a drink.

That she reacted when Lukas came in -- sat a little straighter, became still, followed him with her eyes-- has already been addressed. She notices Adara come back, too, but she doesn't know the woman very well, nor does Danicka tend to go out of her way to get to know Garou. She's quieter now, too, though some of that is because the discussion she was having with Jackson faded naturally.

He knows what she would like him to do, just get her people's information so she can make sure they know what she's there for and how to find her. So that -- as she now knows she needs to do -- she can tell them no, I'm not stomping in and taking over your alliance. She isn't here to gossip about anyone behind their back, and she's not here to push anyone into doing what they aren't inclined to do.

So she drinks her vodka and tonic, and says to Jackson, "You're not going to have anything?"

[Danicka Musil] [crap, it didn't refresh. *waves hand* Danicka gives a respectful nod of greeting to Adara when she says hi.]

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "I can't speak for Balance-rhya," Lukas replies, sipping coffee before nomfing down another bite of danish, "but I spent half of the meeting mostly listening and the other half talking to Carter outside. Good talk, though. I think we actually came to something of an understanding. He voluntarily agreed to go into a month's worth of seclusion on my pack's territory; I'm hoping some time to himself will let him see beyond his own scars to the bigger picture.

"As for the kin-Garou relations -- I think a lot of dirty laundry got aired, but maybe it was necessary. Ninety percent of it sounded like misunderstandings and miscommunication, so the biggest step forward was probably setting up a pair of liaisons between kin and Garou. Just so there's someone actively working to keep communications open.

"So, yeah." Lukas smiles, a little wry. "I guess it did go the way I wanted. Or at least in a good way, more or less."

[Jackson Montgomery] "Adara." He smiles to her and sits back, then looks to Danicka. He smiles a bit. "No, no. I do more than enough drinking back at my place. Can't experience college life without a little alcohol poisoning at least once, right?"

See, he did remember at least something from the meeting that Danicka had said, apparently. He grins and shrugs. "I'm trying to be relatively clear headed if I'm not in the safety of my home, as a rule."

[Adara Mires] She lisened to him, watching him. She frowned slightly when he talked about Carter, but didn't interrupt him. She was smiling by the end though, glad that thing moved forward

"Well I"m glad that things went well. And what about those liaison. Anyone has been chosen yet? or is it still up in the air? I mgiht sound curious but if something come up and someone has been named, it would be useful to know who I should adress to"

She paused with a slight tilt of her head "As for Carter, what do the month seclusion implie? Does it mean, no one can visit him? And he was actually teaching me to shoot better. Do I find myself without a trainer for a month or would he be allowed to go to the shooting range with me?"

She ask, curious. It affected her routine and well, better to know now and plan in consequence if she wouldn't have any access to Carter for month.

[Danicka Musil] "Is that so? College. Alcohol poisoning. I'll have to look into that," Danicka says, with what seems very close to genuine curiosity about this Experiencing College Life bit. Her tone is a little arch, though, a trifle wry. "I suppose that's a generally good rule," she goes on, finishing her drink. "I'd say the Brotherhood of Thieves is a place you can go ahead and get muddle-headed without worry, but that's... far from the truth."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas, sipping coffee, shakes his head mutely. When he lowers his mug he answers, "He can go to work at Daoi's laboratory, and he can keep holding his lessons in Kate's loft. Live ammunition's out, though. Obviously. You'll have to go to him for pointers, but do your own shooting at the range." A pause, curious. "Why are you learning to shoot, anyway? You're Garou, and your moon's hardly small.

"As for the liaisons -- Dani&+269;ka on the kin side," Lukas replies, nodding over Adara's shoulder at the pair of kin sitting not too far away, "and Matthieu, the Silver Fang, on the Garou."

[Katherine Bellamonte] After 5AM, the world is ripe for purchase to a visit from Katherine Bellamonte.

She promptly rises at this hour or at the latest an hour after most every day of her life unless there is a better temptation to the hour found between her bedsheets. It is a little startling how she can manage herself; manage her appearance quite the way she does. Never a wrinkle in her clothing or a hair out of place. Her lipstick is never smudged, her eyeliner rarely overdone.

She appears quite without warning -- which is a lie no matter the Garou's desire for with high Rage bells might as well toll in towers heavy with precaution -- as she ever tends to; stepping into the Brotherhood of Thieves with a hood drawn over her head, her winter's coat trimmed with faux fur; fringing her creamy complexion and adding to the aura of other-worldliness to the Silver Fang.

Some Fianna must wonder if there wasn't a trace of Fae to those lovely features; the pale, pale eyes.

Still, few things could argue with the breeding of a child of Falcon. Honor's Compass, only having been here a night ago, stood in the doorway and tucked gloves into her handbag; they were black to contrast against her coat.

[Jackson Montgomery] A faint smile. "I'm less worried about what might happen here at the Brotherhood than what happens in the cab, or between the cab and my building's door."

Oh look. Katherine. Jackson Montgomery, good little kin. Gooood little kin. He probably doesn't even realize he's doing it. Ironically, this is probably the point where he might most be able to be confused, as was noted early--if not for his breeding--with a very well-behaved upper class Silver Fang.

[Adara Mires] She looked over at Danicka when he mention her and then nodded to him "Mirror's Whisper right? Galliard Elder?"

She ask him, since there might be another Matthieu around. Who knows.

"As for my desire to learn how to shoot, use a blade, and fight bare handed, in a very human way it's fairly simple. I want to be ab;e to defend myself if I"m attacked in a public place without having to worry about the Veil. It happened recently in a cemetary, in broad daylight. There was no witnesses but a camera filmed us. We had to take down the camera because some had shifted to another form.

I might be lazy but if Ic an avoid lifiting the Veil to take care of a threat, I will. But I'm not dumb enought to actually let myself be killed for that either. I'll deal with the Veil once the treat is destroyed. I just try to fight smartly, and less mistakes one's make, better it is for one's safety and the Caern. I also believe you can never know enough or have enough skills. It can always prove to be useful"

And then Katherine stepped in and well no one would ever miss the Sulver Fang stepping in any place. Her eyes moved to the Adren beauty, nodding to her for she was too far to greet her right now

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "That's the one," Lukas confirms. Katherine enters. Lukas nods at her, a smile and a flash of his eyebrows indicating some sort of greeting over Adara's head. Then back to the young Galliard, listening.

"Fair enough," he says. "Come on," he adds, tipping his head toward the bar. "Let's join them."

[Danicka Musil] She looks up again as Katherine comes in -- the staff was just about to lock those front doors, but they move out of the way for the Adren Philodox, Elder of her Auspice, Elder of the Silver Fangs, and so on

and so forth.

Again, Danicka's face is a mask when she sees the Garou enter. She's still a moment, then returns her attention to Jackson, as Adara and Lukas have yet to make their way over. Her glass is empty, and she doesn't ask Danny to make her another. It was quite some time ago that she gave him her information, a sort of endless tab she arranged with him. She trusts him, at least to go in every couple of weeks and pay the Brotherhood for whatever she's racked up. She's outlined what to charge her for tips. She doesn't worry about it.

"You know, Jackson," she says offhandedly, "something tells me you've got a wicked streak a mile long and a fathom deep." Her eyebrows flick, and she sees Lukas heading their way. She smiles. No mask, this time.

[Adara Mires] She nodded and smile at Lukas "All right" She say to him when he propose to join the two kin and the newly arrived Silver Fang Adren. She walk with him, smiling one more at Danicka and Jackson, while bowing slightly to Katherine "Good evening Honor's Compass Rhya, how are you doing?"

ShShe order a beer to Danny before he completly close the bar, paying it and waiting before drinking from the bottle.

[Katherine Bellamonte] She does present a picture, Katherine, doesn't she.

To a young man like Jackson, educated or at least in the process of gaining further credit to the fact, here is a young woman barely as old as, if not a year or so more than himself that he could feasibly date except for those mitigating factors -- you know -- that she was a monster; her rank in monster terms was a scary notion; her Rage made his skin think about crawling away.

It was not that the lovely blonde creature projected the outward dread that say, a Fenrir might, but more that knowing what she was and what she was capable of made her beauty colder, somehow. Made her seem out of grasp. Whether or not she fed into these ideas, was anyone's notion. Katherine, certainly, would never cede the truth if that were the case. When she crosses the restaurant; her expression seems amiable enough.

Jackson, like Danicka, get the benefit of a nod; though her steps guide her toward her Alpha in an unerring fashion.

"Good morning, Adara," the Half Moon corrects with a twitch of her mouth, her hands straying to the pockets of her coat. "I am well, perhaps too ambitious for the bakery to have fresh loaves, that being said."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas can remember a night where he stood behind this bar, played Danny's part. He remembers taking down bottle after bottle of liquor, telling a cub this is cognac, drink of the Silver Fangs, and this is scotch, drink of the Fianna, and this is potato vodka, which only badass Shadow Lords drink.

That cub grew up; left this Sept to seek her fortunes elsewhere. The memory doesn't necessarily mean anything, but it's a pleasant one all the same.

No mask this time when his mate smiles at him. No mask for him, either, when he touches her shoulder, the backs of his knuckles just barely brushing there. Then he pulls himself up on the barstool beside her, casually making introductions. "This is Adara Mires. Fury Galliard. She wards the Brotherhood. Have you guys all met?"

And to Kate, helpfully: "There's pastries from last night. Are you going to get one?" That's a little too hopeful. Kate can tell, she can just tell, that if she says yes he's going to say since you're up already, bring me one of the lemon danishes!

[Katherine Bellamonte] Oh, she knows.

She raises one of her eyebrows at her Alpha; it's a motion Katherine has perfected over the years and it says so, so much without saying anything at all. She eyebrows her thoughts at him and then her lips pinch together. Mmm, she hums, and crosses toward the Bakery without further comment.

--

When she comes back, moments later, she has a blueberry danish in one hand, and a lemon in the other. She holds one out to Lukas. "Your tart." Deliciously wry.

[Adara Mires] She smiled at Katherine and nodded. It was morning and she was right. To Adara is was still possibly Monday, or even Sunday for all the sleep she had the night before. Yet she seem to be doing pretty well for someone running on a three hour nap in the last 48 hours. Though she expect that once everyone has left...and maybe even before, she will head for her bedroom and fall into a deep coma or something similar until it's dark again. Aaahh the life of a slacker. Well to be honest, she wasn't spending her days doing nothing. She worked, once in a while and the rest of the time, she was trying to help others, Garou and Kin alike, while doing her part for the Nation.

She smiled and nodded to Lukas and Danicka when the Elder introduce her to his mate "We've met once" She tell Lukas then look at the Shadow Lord Kin "It's good to see you again Danicka" She say to the other woman

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas's grin lights up his face. "Yay," he says by way of thank-you, not even bothering to ask how Kate just knew. He does, however, break the pastry in half. One half goes to Danicka. The other promptly begins to disappear into his mouth.

"What are you still doing up, anyway?" he wants to know. "Doesn't your majesty usually rise with the sun?"

[Danicka Musil] Once upon a time, Katherine smirking as she offers Lukas your tart would have been a veiled, entirely unkind reference to the blonde woman Lukas has -- let's be frank -- been enamored of since roughly the moment he met her. Once upon a time, Danicka would have had nothing remotely kind to say about Katherine, either.

Times have changed. So have they. "Lukáš told me you became Adren, too," she says, by way of greeting the Fang. "Congratulations, Katherine," she adds, with what seems sincere but -- also frankly -- not terribly invested praise. It means less to her that Katherine achieves her rank than, say, Lukas. She doesn't pretend otherwise. But the congratulations is real enough, all the same.

For Adara Danicka has a small smile, a nod. No good to see you, too! though once she might have picked up on Adara's friendliness and done what she good to cater to it. She doesn't now. She doesn't have to, now, to be honest. She just smiles, and remains relatively quiet, even as Lukas is trying to hand her food.

As usual. Danicka laughs. "You eat it. I ate while I was working in my lab." Which is different from the lab.

[Katherine Bellamonte] They were pack, would no doubt have been her answer to how'd you know?, some things you just did.

His mate awards her kind words for achieving rank and Katherine studies Danicka's face a moment not with the avid suspicion it once might have housed at such nice sentiments from the woman but with the consideration of any who has been gifted with kind words and wishes to award the giver with the appropriate sort of acknowledgement.

"I thank you," she settles for; it seems diplomatic and appropriate, without fuss. "It may amaze you, Lukas," she continues on with, her tone altering just so to a more baiting, teasing sensibility with the Ahroun. It speaks of long friendship, this, that she has no fear of making him bristle with her words. "But there are several usable hours that Gaia gave us that begin before the sun rises."

She sniffs, and straightens her back.

"I have already posted my weekly letters to Maman and Edward," for she would never consider emailing, or phoning, "and checked on Bellamonte Park this morning already."

[Danicka Musil] Danicka laughs.

[Adara Mires] She watch Katherine and Lukas interact with amusement and..envy? Maybe. They were packmates, seem to have been so for some time. No packless Garou could witness their familiarity without a twinge of jealousy. One day, she'll be liek them..hopefully. In a pack and a member of it long enough to feel like everyone is different but an extension of yourself as well.


Danicka doesn't say anything, doesn't seem to want to be firendly and it was ok. She wasn't offending so it was fine by Adara.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas doesn't seem perturbed that Danicka doesn't want the other half of the twelve-hour-old pastry. He nomfs it himself, making as short work of it as he might any foe on the battlefield.

Then, sounding appalled: "When did you get up? You know, after a certain point you're not really waking up early anymore. You're just sleeping all day." For Adara's benefit, "Kate's been slowly shifting her schedule back. She thinks we haven't noticed, but we have."

[Katherine Bellamonte] Danicka laughs, Katherine's eyes shift to her and her mouth quivers a little with knowing entertainment. She's aware her habits can amuse but for the Silver Fang, at least, there is as much benefit to be derived from forcing such appalled tones from the Shadow Lord as anything.

"Now, Lukas," as tenderly condescending as any of her tribe, "there is no need to express your envy that I have such control over my hours. I have told you time and again if you want lessons in management, I will schedule some for you."

[Adara Mires] She nodded to Lukas, watching him and Katherine. She smiled at their banter, drinking from her beer, nodding to Lukas when he explain about Katherine schedule.

She grin "At least she has one. Mine is mostly..do what's needed when it's needed. And soon my schedule says, get your behind to bed because you will fall on the spot if you don't"

Shedoesn't seem eager to go. She can last ofr some time but not hours. She stiffles ayawn as her emerald eyes travel from Lukas, to Katherine to Danicka and back.

[Danicka Musil] "The Sokolovs were the same," Danicka mentions, concerning hours. "Elizaveta was up by six, promptly, every day. I was up at five to prepare for her, as was her nanny when she had one. Breakfast was at eight, and we all got quite a lot done before ever sitting down to eat."

A beat. She smiles, eyebrows up a touch. "It was abyssmal. I can't imagine a schedule more geared towards removing all joy out of life and replacing it with grinding, daily, meaningless accomplishment." Her smile grows a tad. "Though I suppose Katherine can find her enjoyment of life in other areas."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Maybe you could schedule some meetings with Junk Food Anonymous for yourself," Lukas retorts with mock ire, "seeing as how I found another box of Sam's Club ice cream sandwiches in your freezer." The Shadow Lord pops down the last bite of his pastry, then gets up and one-armedly hugs Katherine, dropping a crumbly kiss on her head.

"Oh, and I ate the last one," he adds, "and on that note, I'm fleeing before Kate decides to test out her new Gifts on me." He summons some semblance of propriety, nodding to the Fury and the kin, "Jackson, Adara -- have a good one."

And to Danicka: "Vašem místě nebo dolu?"

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [er, Sam's Club mini peanutbutter cups.]

[Danicka Musil] "Lukáš," Danicka says, her tone gently chiding, her voice wrapping around his name like an embrace, "weren't you the one who told me how rude it is to speak our own tongue around people who can't understand it? So excluding," she tsks, then adds:

"Měli byste si uložit české, pokud chcete říct veřejně, jak moc chcete jíst mé horké, mokré píči málo," which is gentle, said a little sadly. She reaches for her coat, laid atop her bag, and rises to her feet, leaning over to pat his arm before she turns to the others.

"He just wanted to ask if I'd rather spend the night at my place or upstairs," she explains. "And I just told him that I'd actually rather get back to my place to get a little more work done tonight."

[Danicka Musil] [for BLATANT lying]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 3, 5, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas blushes.

[Katherine Bellamonte] Honor's Compass laughs at Danicka's words.

"I suppose it is grueling," a moment, she toys with a curl of hair around a finger as if she were no more than a coy teenage girl asked a deep, philosophical question by a teacher, "but I like order in my days, where I can afford it. So much is lost to circumstance and chance that I find comfort in being able to post my letters, go about my errands before any can take that semblance of order from me."

Lukas hugs her briskly; kisses her and leaves residue.

"Oh, now," Katherine gently pushes him off, and wipes her brow, frowning without rancor. "You have fantasies about sweets at the Loft, I dare say you put them there yourself." Then Danicka chides him, adds something that makes him blush and Katherine is smirking; outright.

"I cannot blame you," Katherine flits an unimpressed eye at the upstairs. "Paper thin walls, here."

[Danicka Musil] "No, my work is actually quite quiet," Danicka says back to Katherine, with a vague look of confusion. "It's mostly just looking at the rods under the microscope and taking notes, applying various compounds. A lot of documentation."

[Katherine Bellamonte] "Oh," a blush to pair her with her Alpha, "no, I meant simply, you hear every whisper of your neighbor's thoughts."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "Okay," Lukas breaks in, all but clapping Danicka's coat over her shoulders and ushering her toward the door, "we're leaving now. Goodnight, Katherine. Goodnight Jackson. Goodnight, Adara."

[Adara Mires] She listened to Lukas and Danicka, not understand what they were saying. It wasn't english, it wasn't greek so it wasn't for her to know the meaning. She grin at Katheirne's comment "Tell me about it." She say about the walls "My room is just beside his after all"

She say in a playful tone "Well speaking about my room, this is where I"m heading." She smiled to them all "Good night Jackson, Danicka"Of course Katherine and lukas gets a small bow each "Good day Katherine" She say with a soft grin "Good night Lukas"

She put her emtpy bottle behind the bar and head for the stairs.

[Danicka Musil] Danicka smiles. "Of course," she says, lifting up her coat -- it's white, too, though made of wool with shiny black buttons, no hood, no faux fur -- and starting to put it on. She knows Lukas likes to hold it for her, help her into it. He gets some bizarre chivalrous kick out of holding open doors, out of playing the gentleman with her -- or else it's just long, long habit drilled into him by his mentor. It's not quite the same as the instinctive drive he has to make sure she's fed. To offer her his own food if it means she doesn't go hungry. To make sure she's warm. To make sure she's safe.

She's picking up that coat, getting into it, and Lukas wraps her up in it like a child getting wrapped in a towel after a bath and starts all but dragging her in his wake towards the door. She laughs aloud, a brighter, more open sound than any chuckle she's let loose tonight. "Goodnight, Katherine! I'll talk to you see, Jackson. Adara," she adds, by way of goodbye, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

"You're so rude," she can be heard scolding Lukas again, before the door swings closed behind them.

[Katherine Bellamonte] [on THAT note, I'ma fade Kate out hereish. :) ]

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [i think we're all fading at this point! thanks for the RP, guys :] i'm... gonna go ahead and boot jackson. i think sam's asleep, and i don't wanna leave him here all night *LMAO*]

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [booting: the online equivalent and piling your drunk friend into the backseat and taking him home.]

[Danicka Musil] [thanks for the RP, all! and: LOL]

[Adara Mires] (thanks for the scene everyone *waves and disappear*

Thursday, February 3, 2011

checking in with the fenrir.

[Jackson Montgomery] [[ :D ]]

"I would say it's a safe bet to say that she's is," he says with a nod. "Neither August and Rain were particularly complimentary. Of course, I know there has to be another side of it though." A little shrug. "Always is."

When he mentions Trent, Jackson looks at the other Gaian and listens, then looks back to the car. "Gotcha. I'll keep my fingers crossed, then." A little good-humored grin is directed to his tribemate.

[Roman Turner] He paused another moment to face Jackson, speaking low.

"Truthfully, there ain't no good light to put this in, but the child Miss August has is not Paul's. She ran off from the child's father, I ain't never heard the entire story on that. Paul came along and took her and the unborn child as his own. Then shortly after the babe was born, he found some other woman and in a moment of poor judgement, was dishonorable. He tells me he never loved Miss August, he felt sorry for her and tried to do what was right. But he did what was wrong in the end. Now she is pregnant with Paul's child, so she's gonna have two children within a year, two fathers and she's understandably bitter. I just hope for her sake and that of the children that she centers herself, cause bitterness can rot a soul from inside and it spreads like a poison."

[Jackson Montgomery] He listens, frowning. What Roman said certainly hasn't endeared the Gaian Jackson hasn't yet met to him at all, that is certainly. After the Garou is done, the kinfolk nods a little.

"I can see why August is bitter, and why Rain didn't speak highly. At the same time, everyone makes mistakes..." A shadow passes over his face, and he shakes his head. "Well, if he hasn't been around, it won't be an issue anyway. Thanks for the heads up."

[Kora] The storm raged on both sides of the gauntlet and even the city's reflection is coated with evidence of winter. The weaver's brilliance temporarily dimmed, dragged down by the wild (wyld) the confluence of ice and wind and thunder and snow. The solid church seems coated in ice. Linus' flock of Hrafn refuse to leave the belltower and huddle together, feathers ruffled like their flesh-born counterparts.

The interior of the church is cold; a drift of blown snow has filtered in through one of the broken windows, and is carved out in the south transpect, sculpted smooth by the wind, it looks like nothing so much as one of those undulating Saharan dunes photographed in sun and shadow made in miniature against gray stone and white marble rather than an impossibly blue sky.

Trent and Roman and Jackson are outside when the gray-brown wolf pushes through the gauntlet, nose-first, and pads soundlessly into cold, quiet space.

There's still some smoke from the bonfire Linus lit last night to warm the huge space, drifting in coiling spirals up toward the rafters. And new things: the supplies Trent has ferried in already, some left in his eco-friendly reuseable bags on the tables near the couches, others stowed away deeper in the structure. The kerosene heaters Roman braved the wind and snow to purchase, unfired as yet. They need fuel.

She pads through the space, warm enough in a body made for winter, catches the traceries of scent. Brushes her flanks by the bags Trent left, some deep-down instinct to mingle her scent with his.

Roman, telling Paul's story to his tribesmate, can feel her closeness, a tug at the back of his mind, a tingle of awareness at the base of his spine. Trent's unaware. The space was empty when he went back to his car for the next load. While he's contemplating the shoveling the steps, though, the heavy wooden door swings open. Kora half-emerges, wearing her dedicated clothes - dark jeans, heavy black boots, a thermal and gray t-shirt. She'll need new ones, soon. Her stomach strains the fabric, pulls the seams.

She lifts her chin by way of greeting to Roman, holding the door open with hand and hip, not exiting precisely, waves to Jackson, and curves a subtle smile for Trent.

[Kora] (wow, I misread. Trent's inside! reposting. :) )

[Kora] The storm raged on both sides of the gauntlet and even the city's reflection is coated with evidence of winter. The weaver's brilliance temporarily dimmed, dragged down by the wild (wyld) the confluence of ice and wind and thunder and snow. The solid church seems coated in ice. Linus' flock of Hrafn refuse to leave the belltower and huddle together, feathers ruffled like their flesh-born counterparts.

The interior of the church is cold; a drift of blown snow has filtered in through one of the broken windows, and is carved out in the south transpect, sculpted smooth by the wind, it looks like nothing so much as one of those undulating Saharan dunes photographed in sun and shadow made in miniature against gray stone and white marble rather than an impossibly blue sky.

Trent and Roman and Jackson are outside when the gray-brown wolf pushes through the gauntlet, nose-first, and pads soundlessly into cold, quiet space.

There's still some smoke from the bonfire Linus lit last night to warm the huge space, drifting in coiling spirals up toward the rafters. And new things: the supplies Trent has ferried in already, some left in his eco-friendly reuseable bags on the tables near the couches, others stowed away deeper in the structure. The kerosene heaters Roman braved the wind and snow to purchase, unfired as yet. They need fuel.

She pads through the space, warm enough in a body made for winter, catches the traceries of scent. Brushes her flanks by the bags Trent left, some deep-down instinct to mingle her scent with his. Then finds his scent, warmer, deeper than the trace of it left on the bag, and pads through the space to find him. Her flanks against his legs: warm, distended from pregnancy. Otherwise, her wolf form would seem nearly adolescent.

Roman, telling Paul's story to his tribesmate, can feel her closeness, a tug at the back of his mind, a tingle of awareness at the base of his spine.

[Roman Turner] "No, no. I ain't defending him and it weren't a mistake. It was a damned disgrace, that's what it was. But would you want to be stuck with some fella that was bumping uglies with other women? That would shame ya more. It's ok to be a little bitter, but this ain't her first rodeo, ya got to remember that too."

He added as they started inside with Kora's presence in his face. He smiled, stomped off his feet and set the fuel can down inside the doors. Then he was burying his frozen face in to Kora's furry neck, inhaling deeply while sharing his cold with her.

"Mr Trent, nice to see ya. This here is Jackson Montgomery. He's one of my Kin. Mr. Jackson, this here is Mr Trent, he's Kora's mate. And ya know Miss Kora."

He indicated Kora as he straightened and started to unbundle.

[Trent Brumby] Glancing down to the wolf, he can guess who it is by the closeness of the Garou. Reaching down, he runs fingers over her fur, but only briefly. He's not in the habit of petting Garou because as much as she might look like an animal currently, that is the woman he sleeps with, who has his human child growing in her belly. He does not pet her in human form, either. Well, not like that.

Roman and Jackson comes in, leaving him looking at them. Trent's wearing some jeans, some boots, and several layers of shirts as well as a watch cap. His gloves are still on, but he pulls them off now in quick jerks, shoving them into a pocket to extent a hand to Jackson.

"Nice to meet you, Jackson."

Trent is not a small man. He's tall, broad and solid.

[Jackson Montgomery] Roman's words bring a nod from the man...understanding and agreeing, from the expression on his face. "Fair enough," his all he says before they head inside.

Once through the doors, Jackson almost instinctively takes the backseat. Garou in the house, and packed Garou to boot. He smiles at Trent, reaching out and taking the other's hand with his own. "Nice to meet you too, Trent." Once the handshake is out of the way he unwinds the scarf around his neck and shakes the snow off of him.

Kora gets a respectful smile and nod. "Kora-rhya. Nice to see you again."

[Hunter] A Gnawer walks through the territory of the Jarl. A Gnawer that she knows, but a Gnawer all the same. He doesn't look around awkwardly; he doesn't shy from the shadow of that ancient structure they call home; he walks calmly up steps of stone towards a door that should have probably long since fallen off its hinges. It's not that it looks uncared for--the Fenrir have put a lot of work into this abode--but it just seems old to the Gnawer, used, spent, like a relic from a time that will never come again.

The weather has been abysmal, but that hasn't kept the Ahroun of the streets. Even though today he knocks upon the surface of the door with a gloved fist, even though the collar of his jacket is popped up around his neck and buttoned tightly against the winds, even though that Rage if his burns on the surface more these days than it ever has before -- he still looks cold. His skin is pale, his eyes bright green yet frozen, the stubble along his jawline is both neat and neglected and narrowly avoids looking unkempt. Dark hair, thick, wild in the winds of a storm that brings change.

A child of the City knocks upon the door of the Church and waits.

[Kora] Miss Kora is a wolf named Sorrow, dark gray over lighter gray touched with tan, and sharp, amber eyes. The light's uncertain. Trent touches blunt fingers to the crown of her head, down her spine. Acknowledgment of her presence; then Roman comes in and wraps his arms around her, his skin breathing cold. She chuffs ones, animal, swings her lupine head to look at Jackson. Her eyes are in her human form are a fine dark blue, the color of the sky at twilight, both dark and backlit somehow. In lupus, they're brown, nearly amber, mute and alert above a narrow snout.

Sorrow shakes herself free of her packmate after the greeting, pads deeper into the sanctuary - and her body finds its natural shape. The one she was born in. The one she'll die in. The one she'll wear constantly - sooner than she thinks - when her other forms can no longer accommodate the wholly human child still forming in her womb.

There's some gesture toward privacy for the change. She's further away from the group, amongst the pews; a wolf on all fours one minute, a woman half-crouched on the floor, just balanced, the next.

When she returns to the small group, Kora's wearing her dedicated clothes - dark jeans, heavy black boots, a thermal and gray t-shirt. She'll need new ones, soon. Her stomach strains the fabric, pulls the seams. Her hair's loose. Chopsticks and broken ball point pen barrels, pencils, twigs - they don't make the trip with her, so it coils at the back of her neck, the central support of the structure of the knot gone, the rest falling apart.

She lifts her chin by way of greeting to Roman. "Jackson," a half-smile of acknowledgment for the Gaian kin as she comes up alongside Trent, rises on her toes to brush a warm, chaste kiss against his cheek. "Hey. You guys are just meeting, yeah?"

When Hunter knocks, Kora cuts a glance to Roman.

You want to get the door?

[Roman Turner] He sighed, all put out sounding despite the smile he had on his face.

"Yeah that's me, the doorman. I'll get it. No body move."

Not that they were. It was to the door he trudged to crack open the slot in the door and look out.

"Who goes there?"

[Trent Brumby] When Kora returns in a thermal and a t.shirt, Trent immediately unbuttons his large, wool jacket and takes it off. Roman is going to have to answer the door, since his Alpha's mate is busy throwing his jacket over her shoulders with this look at her that holds some sort of mild humour and a little disapproval beneath it. His jacket holds his heat and warmth, swallowing her smaller frame.

Left in a sweater and a tshirt with a thermal beneath, he's still plenty warm. "This place is freezing," he tells her quietly, and once again, wants to argue with her to bring her back to his apartment. He hates her living here, especially pregnant, but it's still that conversation that hasn't really reached the table.

[Hunter] "Hunter." Comes the reply, he doesn't move, doesn't step into the line of sight of the slot in the door if he isn't already in it, doesn't step out of it if he is. "Here ta' see Kora."

[Roman Turner] The door whipped open and a hand shot out to grab Hunter by the arm, tugging him inside before the door slammed again with a heavy thump.

"Boy howdy Hunter, get in here before ya freeze! I can't recall us meeting off the top of my head. I'm Roman."

He stuck out his hand.

"Miss Kora's packmate."

[Jackson Montgomery] "Just met, yes." He nods a little at the question, looking briefly over his shoulder when the door sounds in a knock and Roman goes to get it. He looks back, smiling to the couple as he settles his weight back on one heel a bit.

"So how are you guys weathering the storm? This is just a little bit insane, if you ask me." So says the California boy who's used to 50 degrees being cold. Still, he's pretty sure it's insane for anyone.

[Rain] It is damned cold. Cold enough that Rain cannot remember why she went out into the great white of winter in the first place (save that she knows, damn well, that she was looking for Eve). The buses and trains have been backed up all across the city, complicating her circuitous route back to the packhouse. The light behind the stained glass looks almost like sanctuary in the middle of the snowfall. She can still make out the shoulders and ridges of the roof line. The steps are clear enough, and incline marked with the firm placement of other people's foot falls.

The door slammed shut again as she rounded the last corner to the packhouse and makes her way down the block. Rain trudges up the stairs. She doesn't knock, but she does fumble a bit with numb fingers to get the latch to release so she can pull the door open and let the cold in again.

[Lukas] The Shadow Lords might be the only mad creatures in the world more pleased than rattled by a thunder-snowstorm. Even so, Lukas is pragmatic enough to drive slowly and carefully, sitting a little straighter than usual so his keen eyes can scan the road ahead for obstacles.

He makes it to Cabrini-Green without incident. When he parks by the side of the road, his BMW is the only car there whose original shape, size and color hasn't been obscured by a layer of snow. It'd be a ripe target for hijacking, except there's no one out here.

His overcoat falls halfway down his shins as he gets out. His bootheels crunch over the snow as he takes the steps up to the abandoned old church, setting solid shoulder to door to push it open. Inside, he takes off his newsboy cap, tucking into one deep pocket, leaving his leather gloves on. It's not much warmer in here -- at least out near the edges of the church. He looks around; at least some of the pack and its guests are in the nave.

The door starts to open again behind him. Lukas reaches back, pulling it smoothly open, pushing it shut again after one more snowbattered creature comes in out of the cold. He looks at -- her? it? -- with some amusement, then back at ... well, whoever there was in the nave.

"Hi." He loosens his scarf with one hand, letting it hang from his neck. "Kora around?"

[Lukas] [just fyi folks, i gotta jet in 50 minutes!]

[Roman Turner] Talk about knock him over with a feather. He's just let Hunter in when the door opened and in came Lukas and Rain. He blinked twice and yelled.

"Miss Kora! Mr. Lukas has come calling!"

Then he almost sheepishly shuffled from one foot to the other as he faced Lukas. What the heck was the war leader doing in their humble packhouse? His brain raced. Nope, he couldn't think of one thing he had done to draw attention recently.

"Howdy Mr. Lukas, Rhya."

[Hunter] A door is whipped open, a hand grabs Hunter by the front of his jacket and yanks on him. His feet step with that tug and he is hustled inside in a timely fashion. Slam. The door closes. He squints at first, adjusting to the lack of a blizzard inside the church. He has never really been in here before, though he has seen it through the doorway. Maybe it isn't quite as bad as he thought and his eyes peruse the high walls and ceiling while Roman is offering introductions.

His gaze doesn't snap back to Roman, instead it drifts down slowly, resting on the ragabash lightly before lowering to that hand of his. Hunter smiles, shakes the hand offered. It isn't a vicious shaking, nor a brutal squeeze, but it is hearty and comforting. Like this is the only handshake they will have, and it is the only one they will need.

"Nice ta' meet ya' Roman--" Abruptly the sounds of the weather outside reverberate around the halls of the Jarl as a pillar of Rage steps in. Hunter turns, slowly, eyes finding those of Lukas. A quirk of the lip perhaps but that is all in the Gnawer's face. "Evenin', was just askin' tha' same thing ma' self."

Mean while Roman is yelling, shuffling, dancing on the spot.

Howdy Mr. Lukas, Rhya.

Hunter tries to look past Roman to see if he can spot his Alpha.

[Jackson Montgomery] He looks over his shoulder when he hears the door open and voices call out--voices, as in more than one. Everyone's converging on the place it would seem, which considering the last time he was here doesn't surprise the film school-attending Gaian kin. Roman announces Lukas, who Jackson hasn't met yet.

Jackson he takes a step to the side to allow for people to come in. After all, he can feel the Rage building from the direction of the door, and--well, he's not the crazy-ass Strider kin he met the other night. Jackson knows well enough to not block a Garou's way when they're coming out of the cold.

[Starla] It's one of the 3rd worst snowstorms in the history of Chicago, people are trapped, the city is encased in a mountain of snow, and the world stops moving for a couple of days while humans dealt with the tragedy. Communications and electricity likely cut off by power outages send the city into a phase of white noise. It was harsh and cruel one end, yet blissful and serene when the drifts had stopped.

City folk had forgotten how to survive in the snow. a passing thought that runs through the mind of the girl that hikes up the snow-bound hills, dragging a weather-beaten suitcase behind her. Her face hidden under the wet layers of colorful scarves, the furred hood of her winter coat pulled down low over her head to keep out the biting wind. She waddles as she treads, snow boots crunching down the snow, taking the extra effort to lift her feet as she plods along.

The buildings all looked the same to her, grey and bleak, in the Cabrini. The only thing standing out was the abandoned church that looms over the neighborhood like a forgotten beacon, a promise of shelter. She manipulates a gloved hand into her coat pocket, pulling out the crumbled card that held the description of the place she would find assistance. Pale colored eyes slide upward as she mutters behind the scarf.

[Rain] She was too numb to feel much of anything, really. Not her nose. Not her toes. But the creep of something feral and menacing, up her spine, tickling at her ribs and stealing away her breath? Rain couldn't get cold enough to miss that. Wide brown eyes sweep tentatively up take in the man (Monster) beside her and stop before they ascend to even his cheekbones. Her line of sight lingers somewhere near his jaw. Her mouth twitches, faintly, in something that ought to be a smile.

For others, it was far warmer.

And yes, she is tense and yes, every last muscle in her small frame seems ready to break with weary logic and spend itself running as fast and as far as she can to get away from him.

Her attention strays, not very far, but to Hunter now. With a similar wariness. One gloved hand sweeps her hat off her head, revealing a spill of long, brown hair.

"Hi," she echoes, and the sound is far less resonant and warm and welcoming that it has been for most of the others present. It's a bit strangled. It says: Don't eat me. Again the corners of her mouth flex, and with every bit of focus she has, Rain tries to keep from bolting from the entryway like a startled doe.

It doesn't work.

She finds an excuse to hurry past them, toward the kitchen, before she's even unwound her scarf from her neck. That is, if the combined Rage in the room would allow her such improprieties.

[Kora] "Jackson's a - film student, yeah?" she looks to Jackson for confirmation, then supplies, quietly to Trent. "Roman's kin." Trent removes his coat and drapes it around Kora's shoulders. She accepts the coat with good grace, if only because it has his scent sunk into the woven fibers.

"Trent's a jack of all trades," Kora continues, " - and a kick-ass cook." Trent comments that it's freezing in here, and she lifts her chin, looking back over her shoulder toward the smoldering remnants of the bonfire. "Li built the bonfire last night after we lost power. Roman's brought back some kerosene heaters, though. Soon as we get them hooked up, it'll be better in here."

Then another look, back to Jackson. "I fostered at a Sept in Hjaltland - the Sheltlands, yeah? Stormed there all the time, but I've never seen anything like this. Linus could get the Hrafn to leave the belltower. Half of them are still roosting up there. They won't brave the wind."

Hunter, Roman - Lukas - and now Rain are in the nave. There's shelter here, of a sort, beneath the choir loft. Further, the space opens, derelict, soaring. The remnants of a still-smoking bonfire, black with carbon, settle into ash in the chancel. The stains from the smoke barely obscure the hand-painted icons some squatter added to the curving wall long after the space was abandoned by its staid congregation.

"'Scuse me," Kora murmurs to Jackson and Trent, giving the former a half-smile of apology that deepens into something more intimate when she looks up at Trent. "That's Lukas. Shadow Lord. And Hunter, Bone Gnawer. Gimme a few."

And Lo, Kora detaches herself from the knot of kin, and towards the doors, her frame swallowed by her mate's coat, except for the firm, prominent curve of her stomach. A glance from Lukas to Hunter, and back again. "C'mon in - " she says, offering them the dubious comforts of the abandoned space. "Lukas. Hunter. Have you met our kin? And can I get either of you a beer?"

[Roman Turner] He broke focus, watching Rain scoot pass like the devil might grab her soul. He'd announced Lukas' request first, what with the rank and surprise. Once Kora came forward, he moved back a couple steps, closer to the gathered Kin. God help him, he couldn't help giving Trent's shoes a quick look.

[Lukas] "Fate," Lukas returns, nodding to Roman. "Thanks for the welcome. I'm glad to be a guest in your territory."

There's a certain formality in that; hospitality observed, no matter how casually given. He's ill-fit amongst this pack: they're casual, close to the streets, bundled up in denim and flannel and fleece and cotton. Sturdy, durable. Lukas's coat is wool dyed deep and black. His gloves are leather. His scarf is wool, and his sweater is silk, and -- well, he's wearing jeans, but even that is a wholly different sort of denim.

Still. In a way, he fits these spaces, these austere, derelict arches of stone and felled oak. He tips his head back to look at the interior of this church; he's never been here before. As Kora makes her appearance, he looks at her, directly at her, and smiles.

"No thanks. I'm not here very long. Just wanted to pass through, see how your pack and territory were doing. Seems solid." There's a hint of question in that.

[Jackson Montgomery] "A film student, yeah." He smiles a little bit in confirmation of Kora's words. "Ahh, nice," he says to Trent. "Always good to be multi-talented. I wish I could be, but I get too much tunnel vision. Found my calling and I was stuck to it like nothing else."

When Rain races by, he furrows his brow in recognition of her distress but smiles in greeting. He's holding his ground, if only for the moment and because it would be improper to flee before being introduced. And Jackson does give a lot to propriety. When he is in the mood for it, anyway.

[Trent Brumby] "Not that great," Trent interjects when Kora goes on about his cooking, giving Jackson a mild wry look. It's hard to imagine the guy cooking anyway. He looks more like a criminal if physical attributes were anything to go by. It's in direct contrast to his usual mild manners.

Kora excuses herself, and he throws a glance to the newcomers, nodding at that. Business, he understands. This is pack territory and not some place to get all personal. Little does she knows that her mate has decided he's staying with them the night. While she may be Garou, he's still a male and has this need to try and make his pregnant mate comfortable as he can, and look after her in this big blizzard. These are unvoiced things.

Roman finds Trent's shoes are not some nice leather loafers today. They are work boots, suitable for trudging through snow. He probably wouldn't mind so much if these got dirty with the contents from a Garou's stomach. His other ones he threw out.

Nodding to the back of the church, where Rain has disappeared, Trent offers Jackson. "There's some food and drinks out there. Why don't we go back there?" And leave Garou to their talks.

[Starla] Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Snow flattens beneath her boots, the suitcase cutting a trail behind her. She pauses on the street corner, peering up at the abandoned church, wondering why people could live in such places. She skirts around to the pathway hidden by snow to make her way up the steps to the double doors.

The card is crushed in her hand, closing gloved fingers to make a fist and rap on the one of the doors. Thump. Thump. Thump.

[Jackson Montgomery] Trent suggests that they further back into the church, and Jackson offers a welcome nod. The Gaian is a bit more used to high Rage than some might, but it's still a bit unnerving to him from time to time, and this is one of those times. He's good at hiding it though, and he just gives Trent a thin smile. "Sounds like a plan. I can say hi to Rain, too."

He gestures, as if for Trent to lead the way.

[Roman Turner] It was like an electric shock went through him with the knocking at the door. It had become his duty to answer the door and he was sure at this rate he was going to start dreaming it was knocking. Quietly he excused himself and slipped around Lukas and Kora to open the door slot and peer out. Surprised to see a girl standing there. So the door was opened and he stood in the crack.

"Boy howdy, ya ain't selling cookies are ya?"

[Rain] Once she makes it back to the relative safety and anonymity of the kitchen, Rain can pretend she was there for a reason. She can put a pan of water on the stove to warm, to make something to offer their guests. To pretend, like playing house, that it doesn't make her hands shake to be crammed into a small space with so many of their Changing cousins.

Rain pulls her gloves from her hands and brushes the snow off them. She unwinds her scarf. Her jacket's shoulders will leave a little mess of ice and damp and cold on the floor when she shrugs out of it. All of these are things she can deal with. They're simple. By the time the other kin have found their way back to the kitchen, Rain is watching the kettle and rubbing her hands together until they stop feeling so numb.

[Hunter] Kora offers up dubious comfort and slightly less dubious beverages. Hunter accepts both. "Would love'a beer thanks Kora." He says after Lukas has politely declined the offer. After that? He just waits. Kora will get to him when Lukas is done.

[Starla] She waited for someone to answer, rapping her fist in louder thumps on the door until Roman pulls it open. He startles her, making her jump back with a startled expression. Breath rasping out in a small squeaking sound that catches in her throat, she stares at him in silence, blinking in confusion.

"Cookies?" She clutched the handle of her suitcase, hauling it up to her side. "Hai, this ain't the residence of Romeo Turner is it? I've got'a address that says he stays here."

[Kora] "It is," Kora agrees, her voice easy, low and confident. She too turns back, looking up at the broken roof. There's still snow drifting in, through the rafters, blown by the high winds through the broken places in the roof, through the shattered stained glass windows. Others are intact, and nevermind the seventy-mile per hour gusts coursing off the land, over the flat lands of the Caern, churning the placid lap of the half-frozen lake into waves huge enough to engulf an onlooker and pull him out to see like a huge breaking wave at high tide on some storm-tossed ocean: they don't even rattle in their frames. "The kinswoman who came in behind you is called Rain. That's Jackson," she's not introducing them; doesn't stop the kinfolk from retreating to the kitchen, just supplying the names to Lukas in a low voice. " - both are Gaian. And Trent's my mate."

Then, a glance at Hunter who accepts the beer. "Sure thing." She circles about to one of the coolers they've filled with snow rather than ice lugged from the convenience store. They're leaving the beer in the coolers so it won't freeze solid, rather than to keep it cold. When she returns - she hands Hunter a dark bottle of Great Lakes' Brewing Company's Edmund Fitzgerald stout. It's not a screwtop, but she trusts an Ahroun doesn't need a bottle opener.

"Our Hrafn wouldn't go out in the storm last night, but otherwise we're solid, this side and the next." She curves her narrow shoulders in an eloquent little shrug underneath her mate's winter coat. "I've asked Prayers to Broken Stone and a few others to run with us. If they join up, we'll start taking back more of the old Eagle territory."

[Roman Turner] He looked from Starla's face to her suitcase and back up. Fortunately he knew for a fact he didn't get no girl in trouble, so it couldn't be one of those calls.

"Come on in out of the cold. I'm Roman Turner."

He wasn't much to look at. At least in stature he wasn't much. He was a little above average in looks, but at 5'6", many overlooked the teen. Chestnut flattened from where the hat had mashed it most of the day. His eyes were a faded blue-gray like old denim. Though when he smiled, the room came to life and he was smiling right then.

"I reckon whoever sent ya my way knew what they were doing."

[Lukas] Lukas's lips quirk briefly as Kora mentions their Hrafn refusing the storm. He's too polite to crow about the supremacy of Thunder's ravens vs. Fenris's, but the quip is there in his eyes, a bright flicker in that incandescent blue.

There's a near-audible hum of power around him. Stormborn, stormbearing. A creature of winter and the tempest; stronger now in the heart of the storm. Or maybe that's not entirely it. It's something about his carriage too, the way he stands: greater than he was the last time he saw...

well, any of them.

He nods to the not-quite-introductions, pale eyes flicking toward each kin as they're named. Then back to Kora. "Good," he says. "I'm glad Broken Stone is joining up somewhere. I've actually asked Hunter," he nods to his auspicemate, "and Simon to work together in getting Bronzeville under control. Simon at least might ask your pack's assistance.

"I also asked Simon, as Wyrmfoe, to start coming around to the packs to assess their war-readiness. I know he can be blunt and overbearing. But if he comes here and sounds as though he's demanding that your pack prove its readiness to him, don't take offense. He's here by my request, and he'll help train your packmates if they need it."

[Starla] He couldn't make her features out very well under the damp scarf that protects her face. Pale colored eyes, a light shade of green, crinkle, staring at him in confusion. She blinks once, leaning in past the door to look inside, "This ain't some kind'a halfway home is it? I got'a letter here from Irene by way of Elizabeth, to look for a Romeo?"

She holds up the card, trying to read the blurred writing, which has smeared from one too many coffee stains. Starla stands about eye-level with Roman. He smell the purity in her blood, like an announcement to his kind that she was indeed one of this hippy kids related to Unicorn. Starla steps inside, pausing at the door to shake the snow off her suitcase, and pulls back her hood. "Roman sounds better than Romeo, Thomas' boy right?" When she speaks, her drawl is heavy and slow as if honey rolled off her tongue. Shaking off the hood, a single braided plait of brown hair falls over one shoulder, her skin a permanent dusky bronze that has more to do with genetics than a natural tan.

[Hunter] A bottle is received and Hunter reaches for a lighter in his jacket. The cap is off a second later and he pockets it along with the lighter. "Cheers." He says to her and takes a sip. Though he doesn't interrupt or offer up any sounds at all other - his eyes focus on the conversation intently.

Simon at least might ask your pack's assistance.

Cheeks are sucked in and lips purse, perhaps eyes narrow but other than that there is no reaction.

[Trent Brumby] In the kitchen Rain will find some recycled bags with food and supplies in them. There's some large containers on the bench that have stews ready to eat, and a couple loaves of bread and the like. Milk, soda's, bottled water. Toiletries, too.

Heading into the kitchen with Jackson, Trent looks to where Rain is boiling the kettle. "Hello Miss."

They had met when Trent hosted Yule dinner at his apartment. She would know from being in his home how he keeps things tidy, how even with plenty of guests, he'd tried to keep it somewhat formal rather than like some barnyard shindig, and that Trent's one of those hosts that doesn't like their guests doing a damn thing other then sitting back, drinking, eating and socializing. The pile of dishes he had been left with took him hours to get through that night.

"There's some beef stew over here and some bread from the bakery."

[Jackson Montgomery] He looks to Rain as they hit the kitchen, smiling to her. He's met several people here and befriended a few, but Rain's the one he's had the closest association with and the smile he gives is warm, open. "Hey, you. I think we can officially call it 'Holy shit' cold now."

He grins and heads over, taking a lean against the wall near here. "Good to see you haven't gotten buried in the snow for good. How are you holding up in all this?"

[Roman Turner] "Roman, yes. I ain't no Romeo, that's for certain."

His ears had started to blaze bright red as he reached for the card to open it.

"Elizabeth and Thomas are my folks."

He motioned Starla in further as he opened the letter.

"What was your name?"

Half of him head Lukas mention Simon and he clearly recalled the last time Simon come to their territory. His attention shifted to the card to read.

[Kora] Kora cuts a brief look at Hunter; her dark eyes are quiet, still. The shadows here are deep enough that the color is lost in the shadows. Blue becomes just: dark. "Simon's a friend of the pack. We've fought together, more than once. The last time on the very steps of this church, less than a moon ago. He's been eager to take a more active role in the Sept, to bring the fight to the enemy for some time."

Another brief, narrow shrug, the shape of the gesture lost beneath the coat she's wearing, sized for her broad-shouldered, broad-chested mate. "I'm glad to know you've seen his worth beneath the bluster." A glance back, touching once on Hunter, then on Roman. "I'll be out of the fight soon," this is quiet, her only concession to pregnancy. "but my pack is ready for war."

[Lukas] [what's on your mind, brah? percep + emp!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 7 (Failure at target 6)
to Hunter

[Lukas] [...SHADOW LORDS DON'T FAIL.]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 10 (Success x 1 at target 7)
to Hunter

[Rain] They'd met briefly over the holidays. Rain had been quiet and mostly stuck to the outskirts of the festivities. Now she's rubbing her hands together, and tucking them under her equally cold arms, anything to help hasten the pins-and-needles stage of defrosting up. The smile she offers Trent is far warmer than anything she coudl have managed out in the church proper.

"Mr. Trent, wasn't it?" she asks, offering him and all but frostbitten hand. He might not accept, if his fingers were warmer, Rain would understand. "'Sgood to see you again," she adds, without letting her teeth chatter too much.

"Hey Jackson." She's dropped the honorific with the other Gaian, not out of disrespect but in familiarity. There's a wider cant to her smile, but they're both well received. Jackson is just the more familiar. "I was out lookin' for Eve. I'mma go back out, once I warm up some."

Which sounds like a terrible idea, of course, to anyone with sense.

[Hunter] [hidin]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 2, 8 (Failure at target 6)
to Lukas

[Hunter] [Annoyance, anger, a sense of the incredulous]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
to Lukas

[Starla] The card looks like one of those cheap blanket ones you find in the dollar store, it's scrawled all over with writing, giving simple instructions on where to go. A folded up letter sits in the middle of the card, the edges worn from constant wear of being folded open and closed. She lets go of suitcase handle, hands free now from the card. She starts to pull off her gloves and scarf.

"Starla Irene Navarro, mama's side of the family. She wasn't married to Willy Turner, but they sure as hell had fun together. Letter explains it, shipped up here at the wrong time I see, all that white stuff out on the lawn."


[Hunter] [oops ignore dice!]
to Lukas

[Starla] *blank

[Trent Brumby] He does take her hand, shaking it gently. "Just Trent is fine," he assures her with a warm smile. "There's some blankets out there. I carried some in." Nodding towards the door he indicates vaguely back the way he'd come. "You should grab one and warm up, not head back outside." But this is a light suggestion, talking some common sense.

"If someone is missing, a Garou can go and look for them." He doesn't press and ask who Eve is.

"Go sit down. I'll handle some tea and coffee. There's some hot chocolate around here somewhere." This way Trent can keep busy, Rain can warm up, and she and Jackson can have a talk. They're clearly familiar with each other.

[Jackson Montgomery] He raises an eyebrow. "You're going back out there? Alone?"

The school-attending kinfolk's expression clearly reads My ass, you are. He'd kind of self-appointed himself as Rain's older brother-figure, and as such he was a little protective of her. He crosses his arms over his chest, shaking his head.

"Lemme know when you're ready to go, I'll go hunting with you."

Trent gets an appreciative look at the hospitality offerings, and a smile.

[Lukas] "I know he's been eager," Lukas replies - just a hint of weariness here. "He also thinks it'll be possible to destroy the Hive entirely in a few short months. He has worth, but it'll have to be tempered with wisdom and patience first. But," a wry smile, "you seem to have plenty of that, so maybe you can teach him something in return.

"I have to be going," he says. "Best wishes to you and yours. Hunter," this, while he turns, meeting the other's eyes on his way out, "I'd like a word with you too at some point."

[Lukas] [okay, i gotta jet! thanks for the speed-scene!]
 
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