[Sofie Janssen] "Oh yeah," as he if just reminded her of something, "she's pregnant, isn't she? I remember you talking about gender." Moving over to the basin, she reached and turned on the faucet, quickly washing her hands in the ice cold of it. "The rest of you don't have mates?" She doesn't waste water and shuts it off quickly. Water is shaken from her fingertips as she glances around for a hand towel or something to dry them on.
"I haven't been to the Brotherhood. It sounds..." Trailing off a moment, her expression turned a little sour. When her nose wrinkled across the bridge, it made the pert end lift, along with her upper lip slightly. It's an expression similar to that of a wolf snarl. Something about her features resembled it. "Like one of those Fraternities."
[Roman Turner] "It sure does sound like a Fraternity."
He chuckled and shook his head.
"Miss Kora is expecting, but no, as hard as it is to believe, Linus and I don't have mates. Me cause, well I ain't met no one and I'm sixteen and three quarters, so makes it a bit hard. Linus because, well he has enough company in his head."
His coat was shucked along with his hat that always made his hair dance with a life of it's own for a while.
"What about you? Ya hitched?"
[Sofie Janssen] With another shake of her hands, she used her clean sweater to wipe her hands off and started looking around the kitchen and what was available. As she searched, she talked. Sofie didn't mind chatting it up in the least. She's full of opinions. "I don't know if age matters so much. If the Gods think you're responsible enough to go out, hunt and fight, it's a sure sign enough they think you're mature enough to be starting a family."
Finding herself a knife and a cutting board, even if it's just some piece of wood, she places it up on the counter. From the paper bag she takes out the fat oval of Vienna bread and stuck the tip of the knife into a corner edge. Since the blade wasn't serrated it was a little slower to cut off some thick slices. "Nah. I'm not hitched yet. It's just a matter of time though. You know? Soon as someone thinks it's time for me to raise some children, and goes to see my Grandpops and parents, then there won't be anymore exploring the cities for me." But she doesn't sound sour about it. It's just the way it is and Sofie seems to accept that just fine.
She throws a look over at him, grinning. "So naturally I'm trying to get in everything I can before I'm pulled back home."
[Roman Turner] "I think ya should have some feelings for the person ya hitch up with, not just do it to make kids. Love has to be in there somewhere."
He got out a couple of chipped plates and set them on the counter top.
"And yeah, well I could make kids if I found someone that stirred my heart strings. I ain't in it just to increase numbers for the war. This war has been going on for generations, so many lost."
He shook his head as he pulled a couple of napkins from a fast food store out. Recycle, that was his motto.
[Sofie Janssen] "Oh sure. But I think love develops over time. It's chemistry in the beginning. I sure won't mate with someone just for kids. I'm not keen on letting someone paw me for the sake of breeding. I'm not cattle." So they agreed, in a way. They just took different routes to get there.
Bread cut, she turned to the meat to slice it. The blood had been dried, baked a deep brown around the chunk of roast, and she sliced it open to see a faint pink and brown colouring inside. It wasn't cooked rare but it wasn't overdone. "The best way to have this, would be to toast this bread in some of the animal fat over a grill or a pan in a fire. It soaks up some of the flavour. But, we're gonna have to just have it like this."
"It's great with mustard." Nodding to the new jar she'd picked up. "If you want some."
[Roman Turner] "Mustard sounds good, but if ya want to toast it, we got a hot plate hooked up to a car battery. It's not the best but it can heat stuff up."
He'd opened the jar of mustard and sniffed it.
"Funny, I would of taken ya for a mayo kind of girl."
[Sofie Janssen] "Nah. It's just crunchy bread without the fat drippings. It's good with this fresh loaf like this." Slices of beef were laid out on one side of sliced bread. She arranged it so there was plenty of meat, just not going overboard.
Smiling, she turned her pale eyes down to him. She's taller. "Mayo? Really? Mustard's good. Nice sharp flavour. Goes great with this. Go on, try it." Using the tip of the knife, she'd dig out some mustard and spread it across a smaller slice of beef. She rolled it up and handed it to him, encouraging.
[Roman Turner] He accepted the slice to take a bite though his mouth was watering for the meat. Bread and other fillers were just part of life and being polite meant he couldn't exactly hog out like he wanted to. A growing boy eats a lot after all and his kind ate more than most.
"Mmph, good."
Like a good boy he chewed, his jaw working, the tendon showing as he chewed.
"Now can we have the rest?"
[Sofie Janssen] Laughing low, she nodded. The knife was set down after two sandwiches were on plates. "Go ahead, help yourself." She left him a sandwich and picked up a plate for herself. Mustard had been put on hers and her sandwich had been cut in half, too.
She stood with her back to the counter, plate in one hand, jacket still on, and picked up half her sandwich to take a bite out of it. The crust crunched but the middle of the bread was baked this morning soft. She chewed with her mouth closed and watched him.
[Roman Turner] He opened his sandwich and added mustard to it, flipping it over to do the same to the otherside. Then he frowned, brows furrowing as he looked over her head at something on the wall.
"What in tarnations is that?"
As soon as her head turned he added meat to his sandwich, throwing it on before slamming the top back on the sandwich.
[Sofie Janssen] Pushing off the counter, she turned at the waist to look at the wall. She didn't know what to expect to find there, and spent a few moments looking. Swallowing food, she licked her teeth clean. "What is what?"
Turning back around, she looked over to him, stepping away from the counter in case it was some gigantic spider that she hadn't seen. But Roman didn't seem too freaked out. Still didn't stop her checking her shoulders, or setting down her sandwich on the plate to run her free hand through her pale hair. "What are you going on about?"
[Roman Turner] "It's gone. I saw something crawling up there but it went in a crack. Probably one of Linus' little guards."
Lying was second nature to a Ragabash and came without thought. Instead he stopped further questions by taking a huge bite of the sandwich and talking around it.
"Wan...ink?"
[Sofie Janssen] "Oh. Okay."
Picking up her food again, she takes another bite out of it. His murmur around food had her raising her brows. It took her a moment to figure out what he might be talking about. When she did, she nodded, her own cheek full of food. "Mmhmm." Using the back of her hand, she covered her mouth as she got out a: "Sure."
[Roman Turner] He grinned around what he was chewing as he turned to cross a few steps towards one of the coolers they kept. Here he nudged up the top with the tip of a boot and bent to fish out a soda he turned to hand to her. Next one for himself as he continued to chow down the sandwich.
"Good ook."
[Sofie Janssen] brb!
[Remy] [mostly just watching for now! still gotta get noms.]
[Roman Turner] ((What's a noms?))
to Kora, Remy, Sofie Janssen
[Kora] (He means he need to get food. :) )
to Remy, Roman Turner, Sofie Janssen
[Kora] The old cathedral has a distinctive presence in the umbra. The echoing stones, solid against the gray insubstantiality of the lesser buildings around it. Few enough spiders crawl over the dead transmission lines to the long-abandoned structure; instead, vines twist through the blind windows, dormant parasites. Come summer, they'll thrive again.
Afternoon clouds were chased away at dusk, and now the sky is high and clear, the air sharp and cold enough that when Kora pushes through the gauntlet in the middle of the vast sanctuary - closer to the nave than the hang-out area, (barely) heated by space heaters under the relative shelter of the choir loft - she draws in a short, shocked sort of breath and curses colorfully underneath her breath.
Then makes a somewhat undignified squeak, mid-way down her throat, her breath flaring around her like steam, swallowing hard and setting her jaw, shoulders forward, hands already in the pockets of her hoodie as she regains her bearings.
[Sofie Janssen] Plopping her sandwich half back on the plate freed a hand up for her to take a soda from the Gaian. "Thanks." She sets it on the counter too, and uses her finger under the ring of the can to pry it up, cracking it open with a pop.
Since her mouth is currently free of food, she takes the opportunity to talk. Again. "I was in the park the other day? Minding my business and watching this pair flirt." It's a small story. "I was sure the guy was a Garou, you know? Just one of those gut instincts. And here he was blushing and all, kinda like you do-" she grinned at Roman at that, "-and then you know, the next moment, he's grown a pair of these big, swaggering balls and looks at me..."
She pauses for a sip of cold soda and leans her side into the counter. "Wags his finger. You know like you do for a dog, or a small child? And goes, You! C'mere!" Sofie's eyes are sharp, bright with humour.
[Roman Turner] "Wait, ya saw him grow big ole testicles? What did you do when he showed em and waggled his finger at ya?"
First he felt something, then came sound. Of course he didn't know what caused the squeak but he had to cover for his Alpha, so he muttered.
"Mouse."
[Sofie Janssen] "No." The done is dry. "Do you always take things so literally?" Now she's having the unfortunate imagery that Roman has painted for her. It's comical, really. She doesn't share the details. But her eyes are shining with mirth and interest, and she hides a half smile as she takes another bite out of the sandwich.
Kora can probably smell roast beef from the kitchen area, where Roman and Sofie are standing around, eating. It's not been cooked here but somewhere else. The warmth is fading. Foil can only keep in so much heat. The big hunk of it sits on the counter, slices of it missing, with a three quarter Vienna loaf next to it and a jar of seeded mustard.
[Roman Turner] "Well sure, just think about it. But I still want to know what ya did after he commanded ya like a dog."
Another large bite was taken and then he began baiting Kora.
"Mmm, Mmmm, Mmmm, this sure is good Miss Sofie. Best roast beef I had in ages."
[Kora] Clouds are drifting off to the east, but the last rays of sunset in the west were clarified. A certain glow beneath the horizon, backlighting the low profiles of old warehouses and abandoned factories split by abandoned railroad spurs, the greater city backgrounded behind. Some lesson in blue-becoming-green, now fading to dark midnight.
The moon is full, but waning. Surrounded by an icy mist, visible in slices through the broken stained glass windows, the cracked spines of the roof. Linus and Roman have covered the largest with tarps, temporary materials to keep the snow from filling the space in silent drifts, but there are still places where she can see the bright points of the stars in the dark, skimming sky.
Her winter things are close by - the dark wool coat, the scarf and gloves - left in a neat pile on a wooden pew unbolted from the floor and pushed up against one of the columns supporting the stone arches.
Still shivering, she grabs them, slipping into the coat, buttoning it with bare fingers of one hand as she winds her scarf around her neck with the other. All this just for the half-jog through the nave, until she ducks through the door behind the chancel, down the old hallway lined with worn linoleum to the kitchen area.
She pushes open the door, flickering a glance between them, lingering on Roman as he starts to MMM MMM MM all over the place.
"Gods," she says. The scent carries in the cold air, a rich, meaty thread enough to make her mouth start water before she's halfway there. "I'm starving." A flicker of a look from one to the other, then back to Sofie. "Is there any ketchup?"
[Sofie Janssen] "Well, I... " Sofie trails off as Kora comes running in. She glances over the Jarl of the Fenris and offers a small smile. Her plate is set aside, next to her soda on the counter. "No ketchup. But there's some good mustard." Maybe they have ketchup, she doesn't. She had some bare essentials that fit in the rucksack, sitting against the wall.
The Kinfolk still has her jacket on. It's unbuttoned though, and her scarf falls in front of her shoulders, looped around her neck, with half her hair tucked under it.
[Roman Turner] His smile couldn't be wider as he took a half step to the side to pull open one of the drawers to fish around inside it. In a moment he was tossing little ketchup packets on the counter.
"Burger King, McDonald's, Wendy's, Whataburger, oh and here are some from Hardy's."
Naming off the different packets.
"Got some Horsey sauce in here from Arbys too."
[Kora] It's substantially warmer in the kitchen than it is out in the ruined sanctuary of the old cathedral. The walls here are solid. The building is more recent - solid brick - built in the late 40s, early 50s - with thick plaster walls and a flat cinder roof that has withstood fifty years of Chicago winters. A few patches, here and there, a little bit of tar and the roof here was made solid.
There's a vague stink in the air from the kerosene heater, but the warmth is so immediate that she breathes out, all at once, feeling virtually boneless in gratitude.
"Hey Sofie," says Kora, belatedly as she hip bumps Roman and begins snags two of the ketchup packets he is helpfully tossing up onto the old formica countertops, putting them aside for herself. Then she reaches up to undo the work she just finished, and unwind the hand-worked scarf from around her neck and mouth.
"This your doing - ?" she asks, lifting a chin toward the roast beef. Then, to Roman, a curl of her lip. "Horsey sauce? Gross. I just want ketchup."
A beat, and she turns around, snagging two more packets for herself.
"Gobs of it."
[Sofie Janssen] "Yeah." She nods at Kora with a small smile, having retreated to grab her own plate and half a sandwich that's left. "I got to talking to this butcher down town, ranting on about some hormonal products and the sort. By the end of it, I got this thing for half price. Nothing special. But it's a good cut, and I kept on the fat to help roast it."
"Left off the seasoning." Because there's nothing like a chunk of meat just cooked in it's own juices. Or so she thinks. "Thought it would be better that way." That Garou might appreciate it without all the trimmings.
[Roman Turner] "Sofie's a good cook, don'tcha think? She was telling me about this guy what grew a huge set of dangley parts and called her over like a pet dog. Go ahead Miss Sofie, I want to hear the rest of it."
He grinned around the next bite, waiting to hear the end of this as he paused long enough to rip open the Horsey sauce which he squirted straight in to his mouth.
"Oh yeah, that'll clear the sinus."
[Kora] "What about mayo?" Kora mutters, nudging Roman aside to get into the drawer full of extra condiments and complete the search herself. Some things do not require the services of a Ragabash. While Sofie tells the story about her great deal, Kora retrieves a chipped plate from one of the cabinets - clean, but chipped - and starts constructing her own meal. Slicing the bread, imperfectly in her haste, and opening up her condiment packets.
The cuffs of her winter coat get in the way, so she pushes them up her forearms before continuing. "It's brilliant," she says, a tip of her head toward the covered roast. "Thanks." Without otherwise interrupting their conversation. Roman devours a packet of horseradish sauce, and Kora, who is at just that moment mixing packets of mayo and ketchup with salt and black pepper until it resembles pepto-bismal flecked with poppy seeds gives him a Look.
"Gross," she says, even-toned, either unconscious of the irony or deliberately inviting it with a half-smile like slow-curling smoke.
Then, the half-smile stills. Doesn't fade, just settles on her mouth. She gives Sofie a quiet look, thoughtful, her pale brows drawing together over her dark eyes. "What was this?"
[Roman Turner] Kora says gross and asks what's this and of course he is so helpful. Leaning closer to look at the mix she made.
"I think it's ketchup and mayo, sorta looks like special sauce, all ya need are the pickles, onions, lettuce, cheese and the says me seed bun."
[Sofie Janssen] Finishing off another mouthful of her food, she sets it aside and dusts crumbs off her hands and the front of her jacket while she swallows it all down. "Okay," she says to Roman, and now Kora, ready to launch back into that short story. Her teeth are licked clean and she leans back against the counter.
"So I'm at the park, in broad daylight, right? Sitting around, eating some lunch, and there's this girl that picks up something from the ground." Pausing, she debates with herself and cocks her head to the side. "Well, okay, she wasn't a girl. She was a pretty woman, the sort that you see on tv." She had been discussing cable earlier. "Anyway... she comes towards this guy, with his cool shades, and starts asking if he's dropped something. Totally out of a romantic movie and all."
"I'm watching-" and grinning too, like she is now, "-and he's blushing and stammering. She's playing all nice and coy. I'm thinking it's great. Because boys do that sort of thing back home, and it was totally weird seeing this really attractive woman do it. But then this guy, who'd been throwing me glances, turns to me, and makes a motion with his hand."
She gestures, helping aid her little story, by making a come hither motion with her fingers. "And goes. You! C'mere!"
[Kora] Kora elbows Roman, firmly out of the way when he decides to analyze her mixture. There's a snap at the end of it; this touch of extra force to it. Something about the moon, maybe, waning in the sky from the full. Gibbous now, slowly eaten by shadow.
Or maybe it's as simple as: coming between a pregnant woman and her food.
The foil rustles as Kora pulls it back, the pungent scent of roasted meat spikes again in the small space. She makes a noise of appreciation in the back of her throat, and reaches to take off her scarf, unbutton her coat, and hang them on a hook by the door before returning to sandwich making. Once or twice she shoots a look to Sofie over her shoulder. The narrowness of the question she asked earlier - what's this - eases fractionally as the story continues. Sofie's smiling, after all. Grinning at the memory of the little by play between strangers.
Kora cuts her meat thick, lathers on the mayo-ketchup mixture, and fits the meat firmly between two slices of breath. There's that look though, back over a narrow shoulder, dark blue eyes on the kinswoman. "What'd you do?"
[Sofie Janssen] "I've gotten up from the park bench by this point." Still grinning, Sofie plunges ahead. "With half my lunch packed up, and I just stare at him. Like, I couldn't believe it right? Who'd this guy think he was? I figured he was Garou, or something like it. I don't know, I can't tell. But there was this gnawing sensation that told me to be a bit wary."
"But I couldn't help myself.. I'm like: I beg your pardon?" Her brows raises. Her pale blue eyes are shining, bright and laughing now, but she's trying to keep a straighter mouth and failing. "And he's like: You aint begging and I aint asking for no pardon. Whatever the hell that means." Her eyes roll briefly.
"And then he's asking me what my name is. While this jerk is stepping in front of this woman now, who has decided she's getting out of there. Which, believe me, is damn wise. It was like the guy flipped a switch from young dork, into swaggering ball buster in the bat of an eye." Twisting at the waist, she grabbed her soda from next to her plate and leaned back against the counter again. It was cold in her hand, but no colder then the outdoors, chilling wind had been on her cheeks.
"So I laugh, tell him how cute it is, and after making sure he's not going to maul this chick, I head off to grab a drink nearby. I kept an eye on them, but he wandered off and so did she. I guess it wasn't Hollywood romance after all."
Then she grows a little more sober and looks over to Kora, giving a small shrug of a shoulder and trying for apologetic but not quite getting there. "If I've pissed off some Garou, sorry. But, what was I gonna do? Just hand over details to some jerk, stranger? Could have been a nasty ass serial killer." Pause. "Not the good kind." Because Garou were in that category too.
[Roman Turner] He stepped out of the way of Kora and her food, not wanting to become dessert. And Sofie told her story well enough to have him pausing for a moment before turning back to steal another slice off the roast which he stuffed in his mouth pronto.
"He just let ya walk off?"
[Sofie Janssen] "Yeah." She took a sip from her soda and glanced from Kora back to Roman. "He did. I don't think he was too happy about it. But he didn't say anything. He's name is Eric, if that helps any." Something she overheard. Not because she shared introductions. Clearly she hadn't.
[Sofie Janssen] [gawd. ignore typo's please.]
[Roman Turner] "Doesn't ring a bell with me but there's plenty of folk here I don't know. I would think it would be safe to say if he meant ya harm, he'd not let ya go."
"Man this is good stuff."
His eyes closed as he chewed, savoring the meat.
"My ma makes a mean roast on Sundays. I miss those Sunday dinners."
[Linus] There's only one real entrance Linus makes these days. He's not used the door in over a month and only then to help a grocery swathed Kin or a pregnant Alpha by eliminating the number of obstacles necessary (and the brief irritating humour it grants him to 'assist' the Jarl's 'delicate' condition). Beyond such things, in most serious considerations, Linus is umbral. Goes umbral and comes back umbral and usually within the vein of stopping in or a bite to eat between patrols or check-ups.
Hrafn's efforts have been errant at best though the consistent increase of ravens in the upper reaches of the Church as well as throughout the territory would not be unnoticeable. Neither would the occasional presence of an alley filled with carrion and small 'Rot piles' from which these physical counterparts can dine. Keeping a Raven's attention within the boundaries of the inner city was a difficult matter.
The air thrums, hiccups and Pops applicably, the young Godi settling into place with a momentary pause that is at once to catch his equilibrium and another to complete the mental transition from one realm to another. His attire is the usual affair; cargo pants, worn sneakers, black half-coat and a dark skullcap. His chin and cheeks are a thin sheen of stubble and his eyes are cradled with the dark circles of one who is tired.
"Food." A not so sarcastic ring for something of sustenance, the Godi turns in place and immediately makes a bee-line toward the Dinner tables, hands out-stretched like some undead scourge in search of brains.
[Drew Roscoe] The rumble of Drew's Dodge Ram isn't nearly distinguishable enough to be called familiar, not even if she visited the Church regularly (and she doesn't, not yet, there's no rhyme or rhythm to her dropping by). It isn't even really loud enough to be heard by people tucked away in the kitchen of the Church. It is, however, present, a quiet thrum of a diesel engine as it rounds the corner and pulls up to park not directly in front of the church, but close enough.
Drew's at the steering wheel, of course, pushing the stick shift between the seats into park and killing the engine. She had unbuttoned her coat to make up for the warmth of the heater in the truck, but was buttoning the thick blue not-a-peacoat back up after unbuckling her seatbelt but before getting out. She's wearing a clingy pale blue short-sleeved sweater top under the coat and a pair of dark jeans whose cuffs fall over the short heels of black dress boots. Her hair was in a loose ponytail that laid over one shoulder rather than straight down her back, but most of the makeup she'd applied earlier in the day for work had faded off by now.
She was cute, but she was nothing compared to the man in her passenger seat. She glanced over at Remy, flicked her eyebrows up as though to ask 'ready to go?' unnecessarily, then hopped down out of her truck and made her way around onto the sidewalk, meeting up with the Godi and tugging the collar of her coat up over her bare neck, shivering some with the bone-touching chill of the night.
"Have you even met Kora before?"
[Roman Turner] "Boy howdy, see what happens when ya bring a good roast to dinner? Why, I think ya done become a Pied Piper Miss Sofie."
This comment made when Linus suddenly appeared to walk like a zombie towards the food.
[Sofie Janssen] "Oh, I wasn't worried much about him making some harm, because he let me wander off. It wasn't down a dark alley either, but in the middle of the park in daylight. So I wasn't concerned. More that I might have mouthed off to someone I shouldn't have." After another drink, she put the soda down and picked up the rest of her sandwich.
"I really am not trying to make any troubles for anyone here. I suppose I should have been more diplomatic about it." Could have. Probably wouldn't have though. The guy was rude. It still might yet bite her on the ass. There's always better choices in hindsight.
As Linus makes his way in, she glances up from where she's eating and watches him head for food. There's something satisfying knowing she can contribute, even just a single meal. Especially to a pregnant Jarl. Roman's compliment makes her flash a grin at him. "I think you're right."
[Kora] "Not one of ours," Kora confirms quietly, a flick of a dark-eyed look from Roman to Sofie, and back again. She doesn't chime in when Roman speculates on whether the stranger would have let Sofie go if he'd meant her harm, though some pull of muscles in her jaw hardens as she considers the possibility, flatting her mouth, making the subtle curve grim and flat.
"I have a kinsman by that name, but you'd know him." A brief look at Roman, here. "If you saw him. Missing an arm and an eye. And he's not a kid. 40-something."
Maybe 30-something. Over the age of 27 tends to blur together for animals unlikely to see the north side of 25.
"I'm glad you're being careful, though," she continues. Then Linus appears, exhausted, demanding food. Kora's rather gargantuan roast-beef, mayo and ketchup sandwich oozes with pink-white sauce and the clear, warm juices of the roast. She's sliced it in half, picked up the larger half to lift to her mouth.
"Here Li," says Kora to her brother, nudging the other half of her sandwich toward him. The brief tug of a smile at the corner of her mouth. "Just the way you like it."
(She's lying, Linus. Sisters always do.)
[Rain McKellar] Their cab pulls to a stop a little ways beyond the stout Cabrini church that stands abandoned and over-grown with vines and greenery. It may give Jackson pause when she glances toward its assortment of broken windows (some still whole, still hale and sparkling) and the rough state of its roofline with something akin to recognition. A sense of home.
"This is it," she tells him, as the songbird and her unfamiliar guest pile out of the cab and she pulls her guitar from the trunk. They're not the only ones approaching the packhouse from the street, though, and Drew's truck isn't familiar enough to Rain for her to feel entirely comfortable with that coincidence.
"C'mon," she says, tipping her head to the broad steps and then heading that way before he has time to argue. Rain doesn't even knock before pushing open the heavy door. There's the sound of voices within, and the air that escapes is only somewhat warmer than the night outside.
[Jackson Montgomery] He climbs out of the cab, paying the driver and supplying a solid tip. Jackson was not the kind of guy who felt like adding to the traffic congestion on the streets by getting a vehicle of his own; that being the case, he knew to treat the cabbies right so that they would treat him right. He smiles to the man and steps away, letting the car head off as he turns around to look the church over for a moment before following behind. "Coming."
An abandoned church, he thinks to himself as he keeps step with Rain, his expression just a wee bit anxious. Gee, this doesn't look like foreboding at all...
[Izzy Montoya] If she was aware it was dinner time, she likely would have waited. She did, however, promise to swing by in a couple of days - it's been a couple, and here she is. She has a rare Saturday off - or, well, on call which is pretty much the same thing for her - and so it is she upholds her part of the bargain.She's swinging by.
The beat up old car that does nothing to really hide it's an unmarked official vehicle pulls up to park across the street near the old church. She takes her time getting out of the vehicle, making sure to finish her cigarette before she kills the engine. This also gives her time to see Drew's truck park just a ways ahead of her. There's a moment when she considers saving it for another day - but in the end, she pushes open the door, checks both her weapons are in their holsters, and stands.
And a cab pulls up as well. The Detective arches a brow, slightly, and settles her leather coat more comfortably across her shoulders. Only then does she make her way across the street and toward the church.
[Linus] The half a sandwich Kora holds out is half-way gone before anyone can say much of another word. Mayo and sauces cling to his cheeks and his swallowing reflex and chewing mechanism goto war on who gets first dibs on the morsels being ingested. The Godi chokes briefly, tilted his head back, one eye crushed closed and the other wide. It takes a few moments for him to munch his way around the bits and pieces before he's finally got things down to manageable eating levels. A gloved hand rises to back-wipe the excess from his features and stare at Kora.
"What the fuck did you put in this thing?" And he's eying the sandwich a moment before devouring another section of it hungrily. Another wipe over his face.
[Rain McKellar] "Hey everybody," Rain calls into the Sanctuary, her well-trained voice echoing clearly in its hard-walled expanse. "I brought comp'ny."
She shoves the door closed behind her. Whoever's next to approach will have to open it themselves. Rain lives here, and letting out whatever little warmth they had was not in her game plan.
"They're nice, really," she assures Jackson as they move into the larger common space so she can lay her guitar on one of the hard-backed pews and shed her coat to shroud it, somewhat.
[Sofie Janssen] "This guy definitely had all his limbs," she tells Kora.
While she's watching Linus eat like an eight year old, someone else calls out in the church and she automatically looks that way. The last of her sandwich is gone, leaving an empty, chipped plate on the counter behind her. She's holding her soda can, and can't see through walls so has no idea who's coming and with company.
[Roman Turner] "In the kitchen!"
Called out as he handed Linus the rest of his soda after he figured the guy wasn't going to need the hinny lick maneuver for choking.
[Jackson Montgomery] "Good to hear." He shakes off the anxious feeling as best he can and smiles to her. It doesn't go away completely, but it is mostly pushed down as he follows her into the common space. He's looking around, taking in the architecture and the decor with interest. Churches always have a grandeur to them, whether new or ancient, being built to house a deity (or more than one, depending on the religon). And Jackson finds things with grandeur fascinating, which is evident as he follows along.
The sound of voices ahead gets his attention. He keeps behind Rain, letting her lead the way.
[Izzy Montoya] She doesn't walk right in, as the couple did before her. Instead, she tucks one gloved hand into the pocket of her coat, and raps the knuckles of the other on the door - hopefully loud enough to be heard.
Then she waits.
[Linus] "...If You're a bunch of spirals looking to be polite about an ass kicking, go away! Otherwise, come the fuck inside and quit being all Knock Knock Kindly!"
He yells at the double doors, around a mouthful of roast when the knocks and yells begin to accumulate.
[Rain McKellar] Whatever idol once graced the knave behind the altar is gone. And the Sanctuary, while grand by proportions and still bespeckled with colored starlight seeping through the unbroken panes of the tableaus above, is also wreathed with the chill of the outside night.
She gestures further into the old building, taking him through the once-great but sometimes-still-holy maw of the main room and into the small kitchen, overfull as it is with faces and Rage tonight.
Rain is smaller than the kin she's brought with her, a scant five-six to his five-ten, but the way they enter the room has the familiar kin interposed between the newcomer and the pack (and, gratefully, Linus's shoutin'). His breeding announces him even before she does, but the rap on the door causes her to pause for a moment -- glance back, and then continue.
"Miss Kora, Mr. Roman, and Mr. Linus," she says, addressing the Last Watch each in turn. "Mr. Jackson, here's come to say hello. He's family t' me and Roman."
No fanfare. And at that, she steps aside so someone can go see to the door or send her off to do the same.
[Linus] "...Well now, babysittin' dues just got five bucks steeper, Roman..." Linus begins to snicker.
[Roman Turner] "Someone get the door!"
He bellowed just as Rain opened the door to the kitchen. Smiling sheepishly to Rain.
"Uh, can ya get the door please?"
The he was sizing Jackson up.
"Howdy. I'm Roman."
He stepped forward and thrust out his hand.
[Sofie Janssen] Dodging past a few, she quickly grabs her rucksack and stows it behind her legs, kicking it out of the way. Then she stays leaning against the counter while new people filter in. She hasn't met any of them and looks at each in turn. Soda is slowly sipped.
[Izzy Montoya] A huff of breath is the only amusement she shows as the bellow reaches her, and being as she's not a bunch of anything -except, perhaps, a bunch of Attitude that gets a fair share of ass kicking anyway - she pushes open the door, closing it behind her. She gives her eyes a moment to adjust to the light, listens for the voices, and heads that way.
When Kora last saw her, she was doing her best to refuse to favor an injured leg. She doesn't have to work at it today. Her stride is long and strong, her footsteps echoing through the sanctuary.
She arrives behind Rain and Jackson, and pauses in the doorway, taking in the faces of those present - marking position and activity with a practiced sweep of her gaze. "Evening."
[Jackson Montgomery] He looks to each of them, offering a smile that is a mix between two tones; warm and personable, and polite and respectful. One is his natural inclination, the other is what he's used to doing around his family. There's a touch of uncertainty acting as the glue that melds those two different looks together. It's certainly not fear...he's not cowering or meek. It's more that he's just trying to feel the mood in the room out to respond right.
"Hey." He takes the offered hand with a touch wider of a smile. "Jackson, like Rain said. Jackson Montgomery. Nice to meet you all."
[Kora] "Hear that?" The neighborhood is quiet enough. There are no close neighbors. The squatters and dealers have retreated, found other corners, on other streets. Rain's voice rings out, and there is the diesel engine, the cab pulling away, its tires crunching on packed ice glazed across the street. City crews come no closer than Franklin, three blocks away. They'll slip and slide until April, here. Then Linus shouts, and Kora huffs a laugh, mostly underneath her breath.
The kitchen is made for a crowd, but there are just a handful of seats scattered around a reclaimed table. Kora returns the remnants of her sandwich to its place, picks it up, and snags a place at the table.
Then, a glance back at Linus, choking on his half-a-sandwich. "Mayo, ketchup. Maybe plum sauce? I dunno. Good though, isn't it?"
Jackson and Rain disappear into a small door set aside from the chancel. It was added later, and leads to the social hall, flat brick against the solid gray stones of the old cathedral. The kitchen is just inside, a few steps down a hallway that continues well beyond. Warm and crowded after the bright, stark chill of the church.
Seated at the table, dressed in jeans, black Doc Marten's, and several layers - hoodie over t-shirt over thermal. The hoodie is half-unzipped. Kora's pale blonde hair is pulled roughly back and tied against its own weight, at the nape of her neck. She sits at the old metal table with a certain a certain confidence, a certain animal sprawl, taking
"Rain," the greeting is familiar; she lifts a chin at Jackson,whose breeding speaks for him, sparks bright against her senses. "Hey. Kora." Then, "Rain, Jackson this is Sofie. She's Fenrir kin. Sofie, this is Rain. She's Roman's tribe, and bunks here with us."
[Rain McKellar] "Ah. Sure."
Rain glances from Roman to Jackson, and then lays a hand on the newcomers arm briefly. "I'll be right back," she tells him, only to find that it's utterly unnecessary. So she stays put.
"Evening, Detective," she says to Izzy. Offering a little smile.
Instead Rain shrugs a little and moves out of the way. To the scared and startled woman in the corner she offers a momentary glance and then, with an uncanny sort of understanding, Rain looks away to give her some space and solace.
When introduced, she offers, "Hi, Sofie," in a voice that's gentle and unassuming against all the yelling and Rage in the room. She waves her fingertips a little at the Fenrir woman.
[Sofie Janssen] "Hey." Rain and Jackson both get a smile out of her, but it's closer to a brief flash of teeth given her features. She steps forward to extend a hand to each. Rain first, before she runs off to fetch the door if she's going, and then Jackson. "Nice to meet you both."
[Roman Turner] "Did ya hear that Miss Kora, your own brother is charging you babysitting fees."
Between himself and Linus, it was a contest on who could stir the most trouble. Together it was double trouble. Izzy entered and got a.....
"Howdy Miss Detective Montoya, Ma'am."
With Roman most greetings were an entire introduction. He shook Jackson's hand, giving it a few good pumps.
"Hot danged but it is getting to be a real party in here. How long ya been in town Jackson? Where ya staying?"
[Kora] "And Izzy." A moment later. Then, like this is a mnemonic, goes around naming the people in the room, pointing them out with the crust of her sandwich. "Sofie. Sofie, Izzy. Izzy, Rain. Rain, Izzy, Jackson, Rain, Sofie, Izzy."
A subtle curl of her mouth for the verbal slapstick.
Then, " - beer's in the cooler, food's on the counter." This is directed to Jackson as much as everyone. The kinsman will find the Jarl's dark blue eyes direct on him, a quiet, full look, the humor fading from both her voice and her curving mouth. "You're more than welcome to fix yourself a sandwich, or grab yourself a beer."
[Izzy Montoya] She doesn't try to correct Roman - doing so is what got her the Miss Detective Montoya Ma'am name to begin with. She just nods, slightly. She lets her gaze linger on Rain a moment in greeting, before she simply lifts a hand to everyone else
...and makes for the beer.
[Rain McKellar] So very many people. It's not the crowd that Rain minds, it's the keeping up with a thousand things going on at once. She shakes Sofie's hand, and her own is lightly callused in places from her craft.
"Nice ta meetcha," she says, under the press of interweaving conversations. And if Rain's foot just happened to bump the leg of Linus's chair as she passed the slightly assholic Godi, then it was clearly a mishap from too many people in the room and not Roman wearin' off on her.
"Babysitting fees, huh?" she asks. Flat. No lilt to it. Rain folds her arms across her middle and eyes him. "I'mma keep that in mind, Mr. Linus. I am." But that breaks into a little smile, because she doesn't hold anything against any of them for long.
[Jackson Montgomery] He nods and waves to Kora and to Sofie, smiling warmly, and then looks over his shoulder to Izzy. He takes note of the 'detective' of course, and he gives her a nod. "Hello."
The amount of people he just got introduced to would be dizzying for some, but Jackson's used to it. Whether school, parties or other functions, he's been through the whirlwind of handshakes and names that he can keep up, and he does so smoothly here. Ramon's questions draw his attention back, and he smiles.
"I've been in town since beginning of September...I'm attending film school at Flashpoint. Staying at the dorm housing there." He smiles a bit and shrugs. "I've been meaning to come and make some introductions, but I wanted to get the first semester out of the way first. Get some momentum going, you know."
[Linus] "Pregnant woman and their god damn cravings..."
He mutters, peeling back one of the bread slices to take a look inside the remnants of the sandwich. A cautionary stare is all that's left, before he devours the last of it, cheeks puffing out with the gesture and hands wiping themselves down against his clothing like any self-respecting twenty something year old might manage in a tight spot or a lazy moment. He flicks a hand out toward all the people, still chewing enough to make whatever joke about the crowd and the Church Social this has become a moment in waiting. By the time he's swallowed, that moment has passed and he waves it off.
"Kor'...that Dead Rite position out on the East side of the Boundaries." He swallows and sucks some mayo from his thumb. "...I found a couple more ranging further out. Seem to be keeping their distance from the Caern, mostly south side, pushing in toward Chinatown here or there, but they seem to be set up with the intent to lure and draw. Pull attention and snicker about it from afar. Ask me, the bastards are pulling some rudimentary attrition tactics around the city. Wouldn't be surprised if some things start popping up here or there...."
And then around on Rain, a brow perked evenly over a dark brown eye.
"Sure thing, sweetheart. Just means you might well inherit the fees. Fuck knows things are getting a little crowded. Need to start figuring something out with all these new bodies in town. Get you people settled so you're working with one another and not simply under our stretched thin asses."
His eyes narrow, searching for some sort of refreshment, having polished off the remainder of Roman's soda without much hesitation.
[Sofie Janssen] Izzy got a nod from Sofie, since the Detective didn't seem interested in shaking hands and what not. For all the new faces, the Get Kinfolk has taken a back seat. It's gone from telling stories of recent past, gossiping and eating, to a crowd in the place. It had been a good day to bring that roast beef.
[Rain McKellar] "If you really feel that way, I'll work on movin' out, first thing," she tells the oft-rough-around-the-edges Godi with a tone that is not even approaching argumentative. At the end of a day like today, it's more tired and worn than anything else. It's soft, and damn near apologetic.
[Kora] Kora - who is on second glance noticeably pregnant, the firm curve of her stomach evident beneath the half-zipped hoodie - gives her brother a simple, quiet smirk as he he opens up the half-sandwich he had half-devoured, looking for whatever remained. She's solidly in the second trimester, five or five and a half months along.
"There was some sort of - " Kora's mouth twists, briefly, more at the right corner than the left. " - kinfolk network last year." She comments, as Linus starts discussing What Is to Be Done with the kinfolk. "Joe hated it." Then, she offers a subtle half-shrug underneath. The exchange between the pair shifts, though, and Kora gives Rain a firm shake of her head.
"Ignore him. You're welcome here, Rain."
[Roman Turner] "She's got ya there Linus. She moves out and you'll not have them snacks ya like so much."
He bent and pulled a beer from the cooler, shoving one towards Linus then Jackson and whoever else wanted one.
"I guess the Tribal Elder knows ya been in town Jackson? It's good to meet another of the family."
[Linus] "Oh don't start that with me?" It's a whine that the Godi flings at the ceiling. Then he's standing and moving toward Roman for his beer, pointing back at Kora along the way.
"Listen to her. She's a woman too. You'll be fine. I need a drink. Beer me, Small one!" He pops the cap on the beverage and takes a slug.
[Drew Roscoe] [Reposted for the sake of Damon]
[Drew Roscoe]
The rumble of Drew's Dodge Ram isn't nearly distinguishable enough to be called familiar, not even if she visited the Church regularly (and she doesn't, not yet, there's no rhyme or rhythm to her dropping by). It isn't even really loud enough to be heard by people tucked away in the kitchen of the Church. It is, however, present, a quiet thrum of a diesel engine as it rounds the corner and pulls up to park not directly in front of the church, but close enough.
Drew's at the steering wheel, of course, pushing the stick shift between the seats into park and killing the engine. She had unbuttoned her coat to make up for the warmth of the heater in the truck, but was buttoning the thick blue not-a-peacoat back up after unbuckling her seatbelt but before getting out. She's wearing a clingy pale blue short-sleeved sweater top under the coat and a pair of dark jeans whose cuffs fall over the short heels of black dress boots. Her hair was in a loose ponytail that laid over one shoulder rather than straight down her back, but most of the makeup she'd applied earlier in the day for work had faded off by now.
She was cute, but she was nothing compared to the man in her passenger seat. She glanced over at Remy, flicked her eyebrows up as though to ask 'ready to go?' unnecessarily, then hopped down out of her truck and made her way around onto the sidewalk, meeting up with the Godi and tugging the collar of her coat up over her bare neck, shivering some with the bone-touching chill of the night.
"Have you even met Kora before?"
[Izzy Montoya] Kora mentions the kin network, and Izzy arches a brow, slightly. She finds an empty spot at the counter to lean against, and opens the beer she'd grabbed, sliding to the side to get out of Linus's way so that he can be beered.
She unfastens her jacket, and slides her hand into the pocket of her slacks. She crosses her ankles - perviously injured right over the left - and simply listens.
[Jackson Montgomery] "Well..." He smiles a little in that 'Yeeeeah, about that' kind of way, rubbing at the back of his neck. He takes the offered beer with a grateful nod. "Thanks. No, I don't think so. My father had given me a certain amount of time to go make proper introductions, and so...well, that's what I'm starting now. So unless he did some advance notice for me, which I doubt, I've been sorta flying under the radar for the last few months."
[Rain McKellar] Rain is holding grudges slightly longer than usual tonight. It's a mark, among other things, that she is not entirely okay. Whatever's eating her, though, she doesn't bring up at the dinner table. But Linus has bothered her, and it's not smoothing away as quickly as usual.
"Mr. Roman, I've never been able to find Ms. Lila, if that's who our Elder is. 'Swhy I brought him here, rather than sendin' him off t' go looking for her."
Rain declines a beer. It's the first time in a long time she hasn't had a drink with the pack when offered.
[Remy] 'Cute' isn't enough of a superlative for Remy's face. When he gets out of Drew's big old truck, heads turn and hearts flutter. It's freezing cold, though, so he has an excuse to clap the hood of his ski jacket onto his head and to button that collar right up to his nose. Face mostly obscured, he trots up on the sidewalk with the young kin. The motion of his head might be a nod, or it might be a shake; hard to tell.
"Sorta," he says. "I think I saw her that night at that irish pub. You know, right before me and all the Fianna threw down?" There's a note of barely-disguised pride there.
[Kora] "I'm serious," Kora says quietly to Rain, finding the songbird's dark brown eyes, and holding them, level and sure. The corner of her mouth quirks. "I don't care how much he grumbles. You're welcome here. It's easier for us to know you're safe when we wake up and find scones on the counter."
Maybe she has ulterior motives.
A flicker of a look toward Sofie. "Or a roast in the kitchen." Her curving mouth widens; this is quietly spoken, mostly for the pair of kinswomen. Kora's straightening, though, the last crumbs of the sandwich falling over her plate.
"I saw Lila last moon," her alto rises, a quiet chord, a brief, sidelong look at Rain. A certain narrowing of her brows, thoughtful, as the look lingers. " - but she travels, all the time." Then, a look back to Roman. "Someone needs to stand for your kin, Roman, in her absence."
[Remy] "Oh, and," he remembers suddenly, "I was at her christmas dinner for like five minutes."
[Jackson Montgomery] He follows the conversation about the their Tribe elder, quiet for the moment and keeping track of the conversation. In the absence of something to say, Jackson is a keen observer, and that's exactly what he's doing now.
[Sofie Janssen] Looking over to Kora, Sofie throws her a quick grin and glances over to Rain. Sofie's not a cook. Her scones would be like rocks. But a roast is another matter. It's not all that hard to throw a piece of meat in an oven and shut the door. While Sofie isn't staying at the pack house, and with some kinfolk instead, she has dropped by several times now. She took the welcome to mean what it is.
"Don't worry about him," she tells Rain, trying for supportive. "He's just upset he's not in Hawaii with coconut boobs and grass skirts, with girls fanning him down."
[Roman Turner] He had seen Lila only at Moots himself. Infact, if he had to , he probably couldn't find the female. Kora spoke up and one of Roman's brows rose.
"Well the few I have met, I have offered my help to, my contact information and even a place to sleep. But I ain't so sure how well my Elder is gonna like me stepping on her toes. Oh well, life goes on, right?"
He shrugged and stood up a little straighter.
"Short of making some confounded claim and a darned fool of myself, I'll do what I can of course. And Rain, unless ya fall for someone, ya ain't going nowhere just cause Linus grumps all the time."
[Rain McKellar] Sofie is not in any way in danger of losing Pride of Place as the resident kinfolk culinary expert. She made a roast, Rain made spaghetti. The scones in question come from whatever coffee shop is borrowing her services to round out their live entertainment roster. Because they can't sell the day old stuff, and Rain is more than happy to bring them home to her family.
Kora catches her eye, and for a moment there's the open petulance of a young person there, brimming, clear and concealing something sadder. Then that fades, and the girl's shoulders straighten a little. Her breathing shallows slightly. It's faint, and momentary, but a wolf like Kora will most definitely notice it.
It unsettles the Gaian woman in way that Kora hasn't since she came to live with them. It's an echo of when she'd been Kora bangs-on-tables UnpronouncableLastName to the kinswoman.
Rain breathes out, closes her eyes for a half-second, and it's gone. She offers Kora and Roman each a little nod of agreement, and the matter drops.
"Maybe you can teach me how to make somethin' like that," she asks Sofie, indicating her handiwork on the table. If they were going to be housemates, it might come in handy to have shared repertoire. Or be friends.
[Sofie Janssen] "Oh sure." Sofie is only happy to help the pack, and friends out. It comes from being from a smaller community. Pushing off the counter, she leaves her soda behind and heads over to the chunk of meat. "You want some? I told Roman it's great with mustard. You should try."
"Roasts you just got to stick them in a hot oven, then stab them with a knife some way through, and if the juice comes out bloody you have to cook it longer." The woman talks as she goes about slicing off some more meat, whether Rain had said she wanted some or not. "There's some formula for cooking times and meat ratio, but forget about that. Just keep an eye on it every twenty minutes or so. Make sure it doesn't dry out."
[Jackson Montgomery] When it appears that--for the moment, at least--he's not in deep shit for not checking in with someone earlier, he relaxes just a tiny bit. He's content for the moment to drink the beer he was passed and get to know people by virtue of observing them.
[Linus] The Beer's gone by the time the others have calmed Rain down. If the Godi seems at all constrained by the effort, he doesn't let on. He frowns but only marginally, whilst pacing around the interior of the Kitchen. It's a minute or two before he's finally setting the empty bottle down and pulling his jacket together to zip back up again.
"There are some sweeps I want to do of the area between us and the Caern. I'm gonna go finish that and then check in with Hrafn, see if he's found anything else that might be of interest. I'll check back in later."
A roll of shoulders and head and the Godi flicks a glance into some of the chrome around the kitchen. The air pops and he's off into the flipside, doing an overnight.
(gotta head home here folks. Back later.)
[Drew Roscoe] "Ah yeah..." Drew remembers both occasions, she had been there after all. She didn't quite remember Remy at the Yule party because there were plenty of other things at the forefront of her mind, especially following the conversation she and Kora had in a bedroom no one else interrupted. The bar, though, there was a lot going on, too much for her to really remember Kora being there. She'd drank to the point of not caring that Remy and half the city's worth of Fianna had gotten into a fight that she couldn't recall the beginning of anymore.
But still, these all seemed like passings more than much else. Drew tucked her hands under her chin, warming them on the heat radiating through thin skin at her throat, and trotted on up the church steps. She'd watched a few faces go in before them while she'd gotten herself adjusted in the truck and then waited at the passenger door for Remy to join her. She knew there had to be some sort of a meeting that she didn't hear about... that or coincidence was carrying its hands rather heavy tonight.
Words lingered at her tongue, but none ever made it past there. So she was quiet, looking slightly conflicted, even as she lifted a hand, rapped three solid knocks onto the heavy double doors of the Church's front entrance, then opened them up without waiting for a response. The snow was kicked off her boots on the front step before she walked inside, pushing the door open enough for Remy to make it in behind her.
There wasn't much need to call out 'hello?', she could hear the voices resounding from the kitchen, could see the bodies in the visible sliver of doorway at the other side of the large sanctuary room. Rather she cleared her throat, sniffed against the residual effects of cold, and began to unbutton her coat as she walked with the faint 'clnk-clnk' of her low, broad heels toward the kitchen.
[Kora] Kora's nostrils flare as if she were scenting the air. It's a subtle thing, quietly lupine beneath the evenness of her steady gaze. Then the moment changes, the girl's breathing shallows. Beneath the surface of her fine, pale skin, the sense of the animal inside Kora sharpens. One can imagine her ears pricking, the long-distance steadiness as she moves while remaining fixed on a point distant.
Except she's human too, pregnant and still hungry. Kora pushes away from the table, stands and heads back toward the counter, inserting herself close enough to her brother, picking up a few stray slices of cooling roast and sliding onto her plate, not bothering with bread now.
"You should talk to Izzy," Kora says, lifting her chin at Jackson again. "I'm sure she has some stories that would make a killer cop movie." A brief, quiet pause, then a glance to Linus. "The doc found some information on the people who owned the rental house where Drew was attacked. Brought us some maps of their other places. I wonder if it any of them would line up with those dead rites you found."
A long shot, that. Still.
[Kora] (gah, sorry! I missed Linus' disappearance, and my screen stopped refreshing.)
[Rain McKellar] Rain was going to tell Sofie she wasn't hungry, that the soup she'd had at the Brotherhood had filled her up -- and mostly it had -- but the other kinswoman is slicing away already and Rain knows that you don't say no to a Fenrir with a great big knife.
No, Ma'am.
It'd be like telling Drew you didn't want seconds. Pointless. Utterly so.
"Mr. Jackson might want some. I'll share mine, if he does," she offers instead, knowing there was no way she could tackle the portion on her own. Oh yes, she as dragging him right back into this mess from the periphery.
And then, since the Godi had left and the room had still for a moment, she asked, "You all heard about Mr. Howard?" A beat. And if they hadn't, she'd explain a bit further. "Mr. Hunter was askin' Doctor Slaughter about some raised Spirals and strange rites earlier today."
Ah, yes, wonderful dinner talk. This was how it went in the packhouse. She's almost grateful when Drew's voice breaks in. Rain's smile will break away from tense and uneasy for her, for a moment, before it fades.
[Roman Turner] It just wasn't in his nature to chew out anyone for not reporting in or whatever, especially considering he was a nobody himself and no one reported in to him. For a moment he watched Jackson and Rain, then the sound of the door had his attention. Bad guys didn't knock. So he called out.
"In the Kitchen!"
[Izzy Montoya] He should talk to Izzy - who shakes herself from looking at the place Linus disappeared from - some things you never get used too. She arches a brow, slightly, and turns to give Jackson a long look over. There's a huff of amusement. "With names and places changed to protect the guilty, of course."
The innocents, she must mean. Or not. Never can tell with Izzy.
[Sofie Janssen] A glance is thrown over to Jackson. The look is similar to the way Kora's sharpness is, without the Rage. More to do with eyes and features then the potential of getting big and furry. "You want some?" There's slices of meat piling up, and still a quarter of the roast left. The pack has made a big dent in what it had started as. Some bread is sliced next, just a few.
Sofie doesn't know who Howard is. But she silences up, just getting some food ready for folks that want to eat it, as the others talk. It sounds serious. Rites and Spirals. It can't be good. She's half turned to keep an eye on the doorway with more people arriving.
[Jackson Montgomery] He smiles a little at Rain, chuckling. "I'm fine, honestly. Only if you're not hungry. I don't want to pull from anyone's share or anything when I'm perfectly able to get my own food later." He gives both her and Sofia appreciative smiles though.
His attention draws over ti Izzy and he grins. "Of course. I don't think I'm going to be producing any action blockbusters anytime soon, but if I do, I know who to come to for a technical consultant."
When Rain mentions Spirals his head turns her way, getting quiet. He's not the kind of insane kin to want to go getting involved in the hunt for the damned things, but he knows that it's serious business and not only should he shut up to let business be discussed, it's good to listen and be forewarned.
[Remy] Remy grabs the door from Drew, hauling it wider for his frame with considerable ease. Inside, temperatures are marginally higher. He pushes his hood down and tips his head back, looking at the distant arched ceiling, the span of the nave. The Get of Fenris rarely think well of White Christ, but Remy was an exception there, too. Churches feel familiar to him. Contemplative and peaceful. He has faint, dreamlike memories of candles flickering at the feet of saints, prayers offered up like smoke.
"This is Kora's packhouse, isn't it?" There's a faint echo through the walls, the halls. His voice is instinctively quiet. "Why're we coming here again?"
Someone calls out to them: in the kitchen! Remy lags a few steps behind Drew, not quite hurrying to follow the call just yet.
[Kora] "I heard the howl," Kora returns to Rain - a flashing look back to the kinswoman, brief but direct and sure as always. "His packmate paid chiminage for them both, in order to bury him among the graves." She says this quietly too; the vibrance an undercurrent to her quiet voice. While Sofie slices meat, Kora steals another pair of slices, takes them with her fingers. Peels away a mouthful of eats it at a go.
She's half-leaning back against the chipped formica countertop, yellow metal cabinets behind her. The place feels warm and alive only because there are so many people here, so many interweaving voices. Jackson goes quiet here, but Kora's dark eyes are drawn back to him. She's quiet, a moment - studying. Then, "There's a Hive to the north," Kora says, low-voiced. Loud enough to be heard around the kitchen, but clearly addressing the young film student. "In a suburb 40 miles or so away, called Elk Grove. It's off limits. We get incursions in the city regularly." A brief glance at Rain, then back to Jackson. " - so it's good to be wary."
[Rain McKellar] I'll share, she'd said. The little glint of gold around her neck said Gaian, but Rain had been all but raised into her place in the Nation by a Gnawer. It was something Roman and the rest of her Tribe struggled with, on a daily basis, and even though they were making headway with the young Unicorn, it didn't stop her from taking things like I'm fine, honestly a bit like a challenge.
Or a rebuff.
"I don't mind," she tells him, honeyed-drawl and all, as she picks up a second set of utensils as if she'd not really heard him. After all, Last Watch had taken in quite personally when another of their Tribe had refused hospitality. Maybe Rain was just tryin' to help. "I'm gonna get mustard, though; chef's recommendation. What do you want with your half?" she asks Jackson.
Focusing on this made it easier to handle the Rage in the hallway, that felt like an Ahroun trying to cram his presence into their kitchen doorway. Between that and Kora, her chest felt tight again. She brings her plate to where Jackson is standing, and offers him his weapons (cutlery), but there's a tension to her jaw now. An uneasiness that will make it difficult for her to eat her share.
[Izzy Montoya] She smirks, slightly, then tips her beer up for a long couple of swallows. It should be noted she didn't agree to become a technical consultant for anything. She didn't say no either, but she certainly didn't agree.
Then she puts together the bits about Howard. She looks to Rain, then Kora, and her mouth tightens briefly. She doesn't say anything, though, in the end, keeping her opinion to herself.
[Drew Roscoe] "Because," Drew starts, her tone matter of fact but light enough anyways. Roman calls out that they're in the kitchen, and Drew wonders for a moment who wouldn't have figured that in the first place. Their chatter is enough to be soft and constant, like the sound of many people gathered around food should be. The smell of recently cooked food was strong enough to clue in here as well. But she just slips her hands into her coat pockets and glances briefly over her shoulder, to Remy, who lagged behind and let his eyes take in all the faded religious symbols that the sanctuary had to offer.
"It's good to check in. To see if anything's needed of me. Who's new, who's dead... There's always news, and if I'm not proactive about keeping in touch then I'm afraid I'll fall away."
It was bald honesty, the kind that catches you by surprise sometimes. People don't admit fears so openly, not unless they're fishing for someone to do something for them, or some light-headed girl trying to charm a strapping young man into stepping up and being masculine enough to protect them from their fears. This wasn't like that, though. The moment passed quick enough as she stopped near the open doorway into the large kitchen, filled with warm bodies and the warmer smell of meat. There were two new faces she picked out immediately, but she addressed Kora first, because this was her place.
"Kora, nice to see ya." It is, of course, after the talk of the Hive and Elk Grove passes. "Everyone," to everyone else.
[Jackson Montgomery] He smiles a little bit to Rain, nodding with a little concession when she's not giving up. He passed once, she pressed, and he's got enough propriety to know you don't say no twice. "Mustard works."
He looks at Kora when she talks about the Hive, all levity vanishing from his face. He's clearly taking it seriously as he takes in the offered information, and nods. "Of course. I grew up in Los Angeles...we knew all about being wary when we were out. I'll be sure to stay the hell away from there, and to keep an eye out. Thanks."
He looks over at Drew she walks in, another new face to him. He smiles a bit to her in greeting. "Hi."
[Roman Turner] He'd moved a little closer to his own Kin, maybe hoping to be a buffer despite moving his own small rage closer to the pair. He'd called out to let the new arrivals know where to find them because it was the polite thing to do when someone came to calling, rather than leaving them roaming alone in your home. So when Drew entered his attention was firmly on the door and a small salute was given to her.
"Long time, no see Miss Drew. Last time ya came to call ya had trouble on your heels."
[Remy] If I'm not proactive, says the recent widow who looked about fifty years too young to bear such a title, I'm afraid I'll fall away.
That sort of bald honesty -- somewhere between defiance and poignancy -- surprises Remy's eyebrows a notch up his forehead. Then the corner of his mouth moves, a lopsided little offering of a smile, but by then she's turning to head into the kitchen.
For his part, the Godi lingers outside for a while, looking at the statues and the stained glass. Looking for a name or two, specifically -- but then the scent of food pulls him away, wandering through the doors into the kitchen. By then he's unsnapped and unzipped his jacket, the sides of which are swept back by his elbows -- hands in his back pockets. He looks around at the gathered, then nods at them.
"Hey," he says. He fills the doorway: solid, so thick across the shoulders and the chest that he looks less than his six-feet-nothing of height. "I'm Rémy."
[Sofie Janssen] Food distributed and folks helping themselves, Sofie moves out the way again, across the kitchen to where there's some breathing room and her rucksack tucked by the counter. Her soda is half way gone and it's warmer now then when it was first opened. She picks it up and turns back to watch Drew and Remy give hellos.
"Hey." She greets along with the chorus of others. Her gaze tracks. Pretty girls everywhere. Pretty men too. They don't make Fenrir like that back home. Pale blues watch, sharper.
[Rain McKellar] By the time Roman moved over to help shield them from the incoming Rage, Rain had pretty much lost her appetite. She took a few bites, and assured Sofie that it was really good, but the plate found it's way to Jackson's keeping, or Roman's, or the counter's long before Rain finished her part. And the songbird, fragile as she wasn't, positioned herself as close to the familiar Ragabash as was reasonable.
"Miss Drew, Mr. Jackson," she manages, introducing the two with a tip of her head, whenever conversation allowed. She's watchful of Remy. More than. Wary.
[Roman Turner] He wasn't a tall guy, though fortunately at his age he had years yet of growing space. Still right then as he stood next to Rain they were shoulder to shoulder in height. Also, his rage was such a small thing that compared to most, he was a lot less to pay attention to. Remy entered behind Drew and said his name, so being the polite person Roman gave a little wave saying.
"Howdy Remy. I'm Roman."
[Drew Roscoe] Roman gets a chuckle and an answering touch of a salute, a tap of fingers to her forehead that fly away lazily, and Drew shrugged her way out of her coat, leaving her in that clingy powder blue sweater top. She folded the jacket over her arms and held it near her stomach. "No blood trail for that brand of trouble to follow tonight."
Jackson and Sofie are both greeted with a flash of a smile that is small but easy. Without effort it draws in trust and affection. She's used this appeal to charm tips out of customers and her way into decent paying jobs on only the first interview. The only unfortunate thing was it didn't typically work in life-or-death situations. That's what the gun in her truck was for. Her fingers wiggle loosely in a wave to the pair, and then Remy's slipping in behind her, following his nose more than anything else into the kitchen.
He introduces himself so she doesn't have to. She instead steps to the side, just enough to let Remy through so she's not blocking the doorway any longer, but lingers nearby it rather than making herself at home in the kitchen right off the bat.
[Jackson Montgomery] He smiles and nods once more to Drew, then looks over at Remy. He's staying close to Rain's side at the moment, and her wary look toward Remy earns the Get a look, before he looks back to his fellow kin.
[Kora] "Drew," says Kora. It's easy to great her first. She's standing now, leaning back against the counter close to the half-eaten roast cooling beneath its tent of foil, with a plateful of slices and the glisten of fat on the tips of her long fingers. Rémy comes in after, and then Kora straightens, standing up, no longer leaning back, backside resting against the counter. The room's warm, full of people. It's large too, an old church kitchen, the walls flanked with metal cabinets, illuminated by lanterns, the odd lamp.
There's an antique fridge, but no hum to say it's working. Just a bunch of coolers and other make-shift means of heating the shared space and cooling the shared food.
"Rémy." Roman introduces himself, and Kora inserts, after, "Roman's my packmate. Jackson and Rain," she indicates each with a brief nod of her pale head, the thick coil of her long hair pulling against her hood with the movement. " - are his kin. Sofie," another nod, " and Detective Montoya," again, they are marked out, clear and direct with brief tips of her head. " - are ours. There's meat and bread if you want it. Beer if you'd rather. Chocolate milk's mine, though."
A moment, an afterthought, her generous mouth curving into a subtle half-smile. "And the plum sauce." A mental nudge at poor Linus, wherever he was.
[Izzy Montoya] As she's pointed out, there's a moment of something - appreciative even - that goes through her gaze at Kora's choice of introduction. It passes through her eyes, then away again when she turns toward Remy and lifts her beer in hello, before allowing it to travel the rest of the way to her lips for another swallow.
She's been quiet - but not inattentive. Watching. Waiting - though for what is still in question. She's as comfortable as she is willing to get, and remains leaning back against the counter, watching.
[Rain McKellar] Jackson's looking to her for some sort of cue, but really all there is to pick up on is how profoundly ill at ease Rage makes the smaller Gaian. That there's something about the confluence of all these temperments together that makes her spine stretch and her jaw tighten. And it's worse, today, than it's been in a long time. She'd been softening, growing a bit less wary since she met up with Last Watch. But the kin is all but hiding behind Roman and Jackson tonight, if she could use them to physically distance herself from the rest of the room she would. And she bristled at Kora catching her eye -- which hasn't happened in weeks.
Introductions go around again, and Rain doesn't pipe up to offer her name to the new True.
When the girl does open her mouth, it's to say: "I'm gonna go put my guitar away." And that's quiet enough that Roman and Jackson will hear it, possibly Kora if she's near enough by. Then Rain will muster up the courage to politely slip past whoever's in the doorway and back out into the Sanctuary where there was a little more room to breathe.
[Remy] The two kin of Unicorn are both eyeing him with varying levels of distrust and discomfort. Remy eyeballs them right back, then snags up a bottle of beer and twists the top off.
"I can tell which kin are ours," he says, and shows sharp white teeth with a sharp half-smile. "They aren't flinching." And he nods to the two of them, "Sofie. Montoya." Then the rest of them, "Rest of ya."
He's easy with the American slang, easy with american contractions and slurs on the words. Despite that, there's a hint of muddy, blurry accent in his words -- and his pronunciation of Remy was perfect, very french. He leans his brawny body against the wall and takes a swig of beer, then nudges Drew with the side of his foot.
"Drew brought me here," he says. "She wanted to know if there was anything she could be doing to help."
[Jackson Montgomery] Jackson himself is far from comfortable with the level of Rage in the room; being away from Sept life for a little while has meant that at best he had his father and siblings do deal with, and they were busy enough that he never had to deal with them all in one group. Still, he has no problem with Rain being behind him, despite the fact that she could probably fight better than he. It's a guy thing.
Remy's snark causes his jaw to set subtly, but that's the strongest reaction he gives. He just crosses his arms, leaning back and slipping into observer mode once more.
[Sofie Janssen] Since it seems they are all about to hang about, except for Rain who is ducking out to her guitar, Sofie leaves her rucksack where it is, on the floor by a counter and out of the way, and moves across to grab one of those few chairs that aren't taken. Screw standing anymore.
Setting her soda on the table, she had chuckled low in her throat at Remy's remark, and shed her jacket. Its left over the back of the chair before she sits. A pair of fade wash jeans, a simple blue sweater, and a pair of hiking boots makes for a very casual, low key affair. Her scarf is tossed over the chair with her jacket. The knit cap is safely stowed into the jacket pocket.
She sits and stretches out her legs, crossing them at her ankles and settles in to listen to the Garou talk before she's going to say anything herself. But that will come.
[Roman Turner] Well the mention of ours told him exactly what Tribe Remy belonged to. He like Sofie, made himself comfortable, pulling up to sit on the counter.
"There's flinching and then there's survival instinct. Sometimes it's a bit hard to tell the difference, especially if you through in a dose of common sense."
[Jackson Montgomery] "Well put," he says to Roman as he leans back against something to eat the plate that Rain passed off to him.
[Kora] Kora straightens enough to allow Rain to slip past her; cuts a look in her wake until she disappears in the shadows of the dark hall. The sanctuary will be a relief, sharp and clear, cold. Despite Linus' tarps, there are places where icicles hang from the spine of the roof like stalactites. Places where the moon shines through the windows, glinting on the shards of broken stained glass.
"You're welcome," says Kora, pronouncing it well-come if only by the subtle shift of internal stress. She's precise with it; her accent broadly American - suburban rather than regional, muddied from a life on the move (or the run). "Anytime." This is for Rémy, clear from the directness of her dark blue eyes.
Then her expression changes, her generous mouth twists easily and her pale brows rise in subtle question as her attention cuts from the Godi to the kinswoman. "Did she?" Kora asks, attention settled on Drew in that moment. It's not snark, this. There's a sort of challenge there, embedded under the skin of that look. "Did you find a place, yet?"
[Roman Turner] ((Even if I put in Through instead of Throw! Gah))
to Drew Roscoe, Izzy Montoya, Jackson Montgomery, Kora, nemean, Rain McKellar, Remy, Sofie Janssen, sunglasses
[Kora] Totemphone: Something's up with Rain. Kora says, clear in the back of his mind. A subtle nudge there, too. It's not just the Godi. Go see to your kin, Roman.
to Roman Turner
[Sofie Janssen] "Hey, Roman," Sofie perks from where she is. Before the words are even out, the thought along has her mouth curving and her teeth flashing in a fierce grin at him. "You know all this shindig is missing, is some two step? You know, how you were showing me earlier?"
[Rain McKellar] In the sanctuary, Rain dropped into the pew beside her guitar and leaned against the hard, straight back. She could hear the echo of their voices out here, but it was easier to ascribe to just background noise. She didn't listen too closely for another jab from Remy, or her own Tribe defending her.
This space is cold after the press of bodies and voices in the tighter confines of the kitchen. It's cold and filled with moonlight and dream-like icicles hanging from the ceiling. There is no idol of any Faith of man, but rather Luna's touch painting everything gently argent.
She'll stay there, for a moment. Longer. Long enough for the quiet to and cold to seep into her finger bones. Maybe longer than she meant to. And then she'll go and put her guitar and coat away, like she'd told the others, and contemplate her potential (but unlikely) return to the kitchen.
[Remy] Remy, like so many bullied kids -- and you can bet your ass he was bullied by the other Fenrir, what with a name like that and a face that pretty -- seems to instantly and naturally gravitate toward bullying in his own right once the pressure's taken off. He smirks at Roman, then knocks back his beer again.
"Spoken like a true Coggie," he says. "All praise-of-mediocrity."
[Roman Turner] He cast a grin Sofie's way as he slid back down from the counter, brushing crumbs off his backside.
"I'd be honored Miss Sofie, though if you would excuse me for a moment, I'm gonna see what's eating at Miss Rain."
God he hoped it wasn't that time of month or something equally horrifying. What if she was having female problems? It was with the mental nudge from Kora that he headed out of the kitchen to drop down in the pew next to Rain.
"Spill it. What's stuck in your craw?"
[Remy] [ack! what the hell! it wasn't refreshing *catches up*]
[Drew Roscoe] Remy nudges at her foot with the side of his own, and she just huffs softly at the gesture, but the smile that she'd greeted people with doesn't leave her completely. There was something companionable with Remy, relaxed and faint... but the stress is on the word relaxed. She didn't really seem to notice or care about the good looks. Anyone who saw the face of her mate would know that they weren't the most important thing for her, after all.
The nudge and mention has Kora's attention, and she's addressing Drew with something close to a challenge in her eyes. Drew looks slightly surprised by the expression, but recalls quickly enough the moon outside. She'd gotten into the habit of keeping track of the moon phases so she knew when to tread lightly and who to do so about.
"I did." There's a pause, eyes going distant for half a second while she remembers where the lake is in accordance to where she stands and figures out her directions from there. That moment passes and she's gesturing somewhere to her right, vaguely, to indicate distance. "A few blocks out of the neighborhood, but close enough that it's not much of a drive to reach you guys here. The landlord's a poker buddy of my good friend Ted Rhodes. I think I can trust him."
[Izzy Montoya] Remy's comments get her attention, and a long unreadable gaze from the Detective. after a moment, or two, she turns and makes sure the counter behind her is clear, before sliding up to sit on it, her feet thumping against the cupboard underneath her lightly.
[Jackson Montgomery] And just like that, he's the lone Child of Gaia in the room. He watches Roman head off and then falls quiet again, his attention devoted tracking the conversation between the others and not thinking about the last time he was purely surrounded by members of the Garou Nation that were of his tribe.
[Rain McKellar] She eyed the Ragabash beside her, pulling her attention down from the roofline only after he'd settled as a warm and weighty presence on the pew beside her. Rain's jaw tightens, a little, and then recants.
"Howard died," she tells him. It's such an empty sound. There's no resonance at all to it. It's like she's too tired to even sound sad, just now, but Roman has to know she felt it. Maybe it's a day long of feeling that, and going to work anyway, and trying to open up to new people that's burned her out just now.
"He's just... gone. Like Ennar. Just gone."
She breathes out and pushes her back further against the pew, pulls her coat into her lap and wraps her arms around it.
"And I ran into Hunter." Hunter, whose Rage exceeded her capacity to cope on a good day. "It just --" she frowns. "He's more than I can take on a good, and today weren't a good one, Roman. Nothin' happened, and I don't blame him for being angry. But it's like an itch, y'know? I can't help bein' uneasy just now and it's nobody's fault."
[Sofie Janssen] She snickers quietly at Roman and watches him leave the room, drinking down soda that sits uncomfortable in her stomach.
While Remy may be making the room tense, Sofie brushes that off for the most part. Fenrir kin, generally, are used to ball busters in one way or the other, and navigate around it. At least they should be able to when they have high breeding.
She watches Jackson, another new face in the place, be left alone. "Hey," she calls to him, "you want to take a seat?" It's an offer not to be an immediate target from the Get of Fenris. Not that Sofie looks like all warmth either. But she got him food earlier. She can't be all that bad.
[Jackson Montgomery] "Hmm?" His attention is directed over to Sofie. "Oh...yeah, thanks." He nods and moves to sit down, giving her an appreciative smile.
[Roman Turner] "I'm sorry Rain. I never got to meet Howard, he never came to the Caern, never made himself known. But I understand ya felt like he was a friend, and I grieve for your loss. As for Hunter, ain't heard of him either, what Tribe is that one? Ya need me to talk to him for ya?"
He slipped an arm around her shoulders and gently rubbed her far shoulder with his hand.
"Ain't nothing I can say that will ease the pain of sudden loss, unfortunately death is just part of life. We borrow these moments and eventually have to give them back to move on. Howard's moved on to the next great adventure, be glad he's had the chance to break the way ahead. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't want folk crying over him."
[Sofie Janssen] "So what were you saying before?" After Jackson has sat down, she gives him her attention. Sometimes her gaze strays to Kora and Remy, but only in quick flicks. "You're studying at University was it?" She had only been paying part attention. "I never went to college. What's it like? Are you part of a Fraternity? I was talking to Roman earlier, and he was saying something about the Brotherhood, have you heard of it? Sounds like a Fraternity to me."
Pause.
"Not that I'd know."
[Kora] There's a subtle look up at Rémy's remark about Coggies; just a glance, without comment. The look is level, brief and sure; she's holding the plate full of meat just at mid-chest level, but not eating now. And as the Godi drinks his beer, Kora leans back once more against the countertop, bracing herself, feet in front of her, the pose casual and comfortable.
"The Doc brought me some information on that rental company that owned the place you were looking at when you were attacked. Maps of their other properties and the like. We discovered a nest of cursed humans in one of them last year." A spare, subtle flicker across her mouth. Not a smile. "Can't be a coincidence."
There's the news Drew came looking for, quietly offered as Kora snares and devours a strip of meat, licking the juices from her lips, after. It's cold now, the roast, but it does not seem to bother the Skald. "What help did you mean to offer?"
[Rain McKellar] "Nah," she says, about talking to Hunter. She leans her shoulder into him a bit and lets a little more of the tension slake from her small frame as she listens to the Ragabash talk. It's comforting. It makes her smile, faintly.
"I know," she tells him. Low and somewhat wearily. "I know, and it's not the first person I've lost. And it won't be the last. It just... doesn't stop it from hurting when it happens. And it shouldn't, stop that is. Someone's gotta ache. It's part of bein' remembered.
"Speakin' of remembered," she says, turning to glance over at him a bit. "He was a bit of a jerk, you know, but he was nicer t' me than almost any of Stag's I've met. I'm gonna to go to the wake at Quinn's place. But you're right, 'snothing to worry over for too long." She offers her a steadier smile. It tells him she'll be fine, even though she's got a ways to go on that yet.
[Jackson Montgomery] "Film school, yes." He smiles. "I'm not part of a fraternity or anything, no. Flashpoint doesn't have, as they like to call the fraternities, a Greek system." He takes a breath and shrugs. "It's great. I mean, I'm studying something that I love, and I'm becoming better at what I do best. What more can you ask for out of life, you know?"
[Sofie Janssen] "Oh. Film school." That knocks her enthusiasm back a little. She regards Jackson sitting by her, a little longer and harder. "What, you learn about movies? How to make them? Or?"
"Do you do documentaries? Like environmental issues and all that? I really hope you're not into that whole Hollywood mainstream shit." Because Sofie is trying to figure out how film school is helping the Garou save Gaia and all that. Not that it's really any of her business. She's just got an open opinion.
[Drew Roscoe] "Nah... Coincidences like that don't tend to happen. Not when we'd benefit from it anyways."
With that said, Drew's rubbing her fingers under her eyes, scrubbing at the lower eyelid until she feels like whatever was bothering her was sufficiently rubbed away. Then she's back to holding the coat. She relaxes a little more as others seem to do so as well-- Remy with his beer, Kora against the counter, Izzy sitting on the other counter, Sofie and Jackson at the table... Roman and Rain went out into the sanctuary and Drew made no move to stop them or pay too much attention to Rain's half-hearted attempt to give a reason to cover up why she was leaving the room.
It wasn't her place to pry into Rain's motives or emotions, and to try would be pushy and assumptive anyways. Rather, she stays in the kitchen and speaks with Kora.
"Monetary. And room and board overflow if necessary, but not permanently. A wolf called Fire Claws shared my space the night before. Helped me remember that I'm here to help, not to hide out." She shrugs casually and glances briefly past Kora, toward the other three Kin in the room like she was having a moment of self-consciousness, but blotted that out quickly enough and was speaking again. "I make more than enough money for just myself. The rest is accumulating pretty quickly. So... food, clothes, raw materials... Whatever you guys need just give me a heads up."
[Roman Turner] "No, when someone ya care about is no longer there, it leaves an empty spot."
He wasn't sure just how involved Rain was with Howard but to feel so much loss and grief, it had to be a lot more than the relationship he had with Rain. This all flickered through his mind as he offered what comfort he could on the matter.
"And there are times ya just want pick up the phone and call the person to share something in your day with them, that's when it hits ya that ya can't. Eventually over time, folk forget the irritating parts of others once they are gone, and only remember the good. This might happen with you and time does help a body deal with grief a little easier. It doesn't make it go away and sometimes it blind sides ya, but it does help ease the sharp stab some."
He patted her shoulder again.
"I'm sorry ya lost your fella Miss Rain."
[Izzy Montoya] Her gaze flicks to Drew and Kora, to Remy who's taken a breath between his bullying, to Jackson and Sophie as they talk film school. She keeps track of the multiple conversations, yet joins none of them at the moment.
It's somewhat odd, to not see her mouthing off. But then again, perhaps it's not so unusual after all, once someone gets to know her.
She is tired, though - exhausted by the tole her job takes on her, by the fact that her chosen partner is gone incommunicado and no one can tell her if he is allright, or if he is dead. It shows in the bags under her eyes, and perhaps even in the very fact that she is quietly observing, rather than actively taking part.
[Jackson Montgomery] "I have done a documentary, yes. That's one of the things I'm looking to do." He's used to being grilled about the uselessness of his chosen profession, and even with Sofie taking it in a more curious way, he's seen the signs and has his response. "There are a lot of great grassroots causes that the public could find out about, that would make them more sympathetic toward doing the right thing. I did a short piece on bottled water and how it really wasn't doing anyone any good because of the level of toxins put into the water. People think about that, they're less likely to buy it. Which makes them more reliant on tap water, which in turn makes them more likely to treat water sources well. Not to mention that the big corporation selling the bottled water loses support and sales."
He smiles. Obviously, he hasn't reached many people with this little documentary, but it's the point that matters. "And outside of documentaries, regular feature films can help too. In ways you wouldn't think."
[Rain McKellar] "Wait...what?"
Roman patted her shoulder and said something about... No. No that made little sense at all. And Rain, who was not possessed of Rage, proved that kin have no less changeable moods when she twisted on the pew to pointedly ask him a question.
"My fella?" And that, Roman, is something akin to indignation. "You have got to stop that. First Milo. Then Howard?" Roman had too much between his ears to think that just because she was sad when someone died they'd been involved. Or he was testing her.
Oh, he's a... no moon. A Ragabash. Rain reaches up to scrub the heel of her palm against her hairline. "Damnit, Roman," she muttered as she realized she'd likely fallen into a no-moon trap.
[Sofie Janssen] As Jackson talks, her face brightens a little. She's not closed minded by any means. "Oh yeah? Bottled water. You got a point there. All the plastic, that's the problem. But you probably know more about that than I do."
She takes a moment to drink down some of her soda, having to tilt her head back since she's getting towards the end of it. Then sets it down on the table in front of her, turning it with idle fingers, as she looks back at him. "I suppose I see it. It's kinda like telling a story, right? Lots of money for those movies. Lots of ruining some places to create sets, or tromping into wilderness with big crews. But I get it. Morals through stories, right?"
[Roman Turner] "I ain't the one grieving over some fella, you are. In order to feel this much loss, this much depression, ya have to have had more than a passing friendliness with the fella. I mean, I might be regretful if say, Sofie died. I'd be angered, I'd feel sorrow, but I barely know her. It would not be the same at this point in our knowing each other, to cause me undue stress like losing someone like say, Miss Doctor Slaughter would. Why? Because I have known Miss Doctor Slaughter longer. I have known her deeper. I have shared near death experiances with her. Shared food, laughter and grief with her. Yet still if I have to catalog my grief level, I would not grieve as great for her loss as I would for say my folks. Ya see? Each thing in our lives bear a certain level of closeness and loss. If ya grieving his much over Howard, I have to assume there was more than a passing how do you do with him."
[Kora] "Trent and Rain and - " a subtle lift of her place, she moves it the way she would a beer bottle if she were offering a toast. " - now Sofie keep us pretty well supplied, but the boys are always hungry. That said, Linus and Roman have a few projects around here, yeah? Li's been trying to patch the roof over, and Roman's been repairing another bathroom. You might talk to them, see if you can give them a hand."
A pause, a brief quirk of her curving mouth. " - or at least, a ride to Home Depot."
[Jackson Montgomery] He nods. "And that's why you stay out of the studio system as much as possible. Try to finance your films independently if you can, use green methods to make it. Once you've made it and it's good, THEN you take it to festivals--Sundance, Cannes, Tribeca or one of the many, many other ones, and you sell it to a studio for distribution." A beat. "And you fight like hell to keep final cut. If you can do that, well..."
He smiles a little. He's in his element right now. He's argued this so many times, but he never lost the passion for his argument. "Whether people believe it or not, films have power. I guarantee that a lot less people who saw Bambi as a kid hunt. There's a reason for that...emotional resonance. And if it can be applied in the right way, minds can be changed. You know?"
[Remy] Remy's eyebrows flicked upward when it's mentioned that Howard -- the little leprechaun comes to mind -- died. Then condolences are being expressed, and grief, and other pretty sentiments.
Remy keeps his mouth shut. He was taught not to speak ill of the dead; his face says plenty, though. Most of it along the likes of dislike and distrust and, god help him: good riddance.
He slugs down the last of his beer and rockets the empty bottle into a trash can. Then he straightens up.
"What happened to his packmate?" The conversation's moved on considerably by then; stubbornly, Remy pulls it back. "The pipsqueak's. Patrick."
[Sofie Janssen] "Yeah, I do." Sofie nods. She may not be well educated, but it doesn't make her stupid, and she's the sort of curious type that will wrap her hands around knowledge given to her. Being in the city has her exposed to a great deal more things outside of home town and a Sept orientated lifestyle. "A story, especially a good story has a way of sticking."
"And like you said, resonating." That's a good word, that.
[Rain McKellar] "Y' ever stop to think for a minute that maybe I feel differently 'cause I'm me and not you?" her tone's a little sharper than she means tonight. She schools it back toward something more neutral where she can. "I don't have someone like that, what you're implyin' all the time. Maybe I will in time, but I just care about people.
"I didn't grow up in all this. It's been some years, sure, but it's still raw some times. For what it's worth," she tells him, pushing herself up off the bench and starting to gather up her things. "I'd be a lot more upset if it were you. Or Miss Kora. Or even Linus." The Godi gets no honorific just now. Instead Rain picks up her guitar with a bit of a jerk, and takes a step away.
Before she remembers herself. And stops. Roman hadn't dismissed her or said that she could go. When she's upset, she falls back on those older, ingrained expectations.
[Drew Roscoe] There's news of a death floating about, and Drew had been doing her fair best not to pay too much attention to it. She recognized the name more when Remy mentioned the packmate than standing on its own. He was the curly-haired guy that had tried to help serenade her in that bar, but only managed to sour her mood further. The one that had appeared with the Ahroun at the door of the church to make noise and a fool of himself and his... not packmate? Friend? She didn't know. She wouldn't know. She didn't know him well enough to spare grief.
Acknowledgment, that was more the word for what she was hearing here.
Kora spoke of Home Depot projects and Drew grinned brightly and leaned back into the doorframe she stood before. "My dad's a carpenter. He taught me a thing or two, I could probably find some spare time on my off days to come by and help out."
And so she, after a moment of thought, goes to fetch herself a beer, letting Remy and Kora talk about this Patrick guy, the one she hardly remembered because she'd met him once before, only once, and that was when she was a few beers under.
[Jackson Montgomery] "Exactly." He relaxes a little more, nodding. "We have to hit 'em on all fronts. Just because they've got the power of big business behind them doesn't mean we can't fight back in the hearts and minds department."
[Roman Turner] "Apparently ya do feel different than I do. I'm not discounting your loss Miss Rain, I'm just trying to put this is perspective. Ya tell me ya grieving, then ya tell me he weren't all so nice to ya sometimes. Yet I see a level of grief I just guess I ain't smart enough, caring enough to understand."
He rose shaking his head, dragging a hand back through his hair. Maybe she needed chocolate or one of the those Midal pills? All he knew for sure was he would never understand women if he lived to be a thousand and this was one of those moments when it was best to cut his losses and get the hell out of ground zero.
"I'm sorry for your loss."
Mumbled before he walked stiff backed for the kitchen.
[Rain McKellar] Roman keeps trying to make sense of Rain, which is likely a fool's errand. So he goes off, stiff backed, and she lugs her guitar off to slide it under her bunk and neither of them have really resolved anything. And while she's brought someone to the pack and introduced them, Rain will prove a horrible host tonight when she stays in that backroom and focuses on something in a notebook rather than rejoining the Fenrir social hour in the kitchen.
[Thanks, everyone, for the scene! Sorry my kin's in a grouchy mood!]
[Remy] "Hey." Of the few positive things one might say about Remy -- pretty being the chief one -- 'patient' was not amongst the list. "You guys all deaf? I asked what happened to pipsqueak's packmates."
[Kora] Rémy holds his tongue, but doesn't school his expression. Kora's dark eyes sharpen in his direction; glinting in the stark light shed by the lanterns in the room. There are windows here, all boarded over with several layers of plywood for insulation. The only sense of moving air comes from the hallway.
Drew finds three or four local microbrews to chose from. Nevermind that the pack lives a squatter's life in an abadoned church. That Kora, pregnant, is not drinking beer now, despite her mate's assurance that a drink or two wouldn't hurt anything: she still buys good stuff.
Pipsqueak, then, Rémy calls the dead man. Kora's expression darkens, the frisson of irritation asserts itself in her brow, in the spark of light from her dark eyes. She swallows it back a moment later - but that energy lingers in her voice, intent.
"He paid chiminage to Maelstrom to bury his packmate. Burnout and Killswitch came with him to bring body to the Caern, and the Bone-Grinder offered him a place with his pack."
[Sofie Janssen] "Alright." Her teeth flash in a grin at Jackson. "You won me over. I won't belittle your movie making career choices." The young woman is joking with him. Pale eyes, blue, are also bright behind the sharpness. The pupil of them is as black as the jacket hanging over the chair behind her; a stark contrast.
"Maybe you could meet with some friends of mine," she says, open with her thoughts. "They do a few things, you know, uh.. . like there's some protests for whaling. Obviously not here. But, you get my idea. They could feed you some info and visa verse."
[Roman Turner] When he passed back in to the kitchen he went straight for the cooler and a beer. Never needing a drink more in his life. The look he passed to Kora was accompanied by thoughts only he, Kora and Linus could share at this time.
~I don't know what to do with her, maybe she needs to talk to another woman?~
What did he know about women anyway? He was freaking sixteen and three quarters. He'd never even had a date, much less a girlfriend. He'd not spent time wooing, sucking face or learning to understand women. Beer, beer he understood. So he turned his attention to seeing just how much he could drink as fast as he could.
[Izzy Montoya] Roman heads toward the cooler, just as Izzy finishes her beer.
She idly comments as he digs for his... "Toss me one, will ya, Roman?"
[Sofie Janssen] Remy mouths off, and Sofie glances over. Her gaze shifts from him to Kora, Roman as he passes, then back to Remy. She doesn't say a word on the topic. She doesn't know. It's not her place.
[Jackson Montgomery] "Yeah, absolutely." He nods at Sofie's suggestion. "Definitely. I mean, I'm not making anything major yet...still in school, but..." He drives off when Remy gets everyone's attention, glancing his way, but since he has no clue he looks back over to Roman when he walks in. His brow furrows and he rises. "Excuse me, Sofie..." He heads to Roman.
[Roman Turner] "Yessum."
He turned to fish another beer out, handing it to Izzy before he sat next to her and cracked his open. The beer was tilted back after he touched his bottle to Izzy's.
"Here's to oblivion."
Jackson came his way and he was polite enough to offer his beer to the man.
"Thirsty?"
[Remy] Seconds after Remy barks for an answer, Kora supplies one. The Godi, who's leaned against the wall this whole time steadily chugging down a beer, snaps his dark-eyed attention around. Listens. Makes a low grunting noise of acknowledgment.
"At least somebody learned something from the whole charade." A pause, as he's straightening up. Maybe to go. "Can I ask something, Rhya?" Not much of a pause. "You didn't like me calling him a pipsqueak, and you didn't like me telling what I thought about him with my face. That's cool. You don't have to agree with me.
"But why didn't you say something about it?"
[Jackson Montgomery] "Yeah, sure actually." He nods. "But more to the point...is she okay?" He jerks his thumb toward where Roman came from.
[Drew Roscoe] Drew snaps open the lid of her beer bottle, selecting something darker out of the cooler than the other options, and rolls the lid in between her fingers tucked under the jacket she was still carrying around-- her visit must not have been intended to be too long if she was only having one beer and had yet to sit down or put her coat anywhere. She took a deep drink of the stuff from her bottle, glanced briefly to Izzy, then back to Roman, and clucked her tongue against the back of her teeth. "You'll probably want to slow down and let your stomach keep up with you."
The advice is soft and friendly. A warning that he'll make himself sick rather than a scolding that he was too young to be getting drunk. She's taking another drink and walking back over nearer to Remy, hovering and listening in on the conversation while nursing her dark microbrew and keeping close to the doorway between sanctuary and kitchen. Her body language suggested that she wanted to leave soon. It's difficult to describe how it reads that way, but trust that it's a subtle language of weight shifting and leaning shoulders toward the exit that almost every woman could and would execute by the time they were nineteen years old.
[Sofie Janssen] Nodding her chin at Jackson, she settles back with her empty soda can on the table, and watches the interaction between the two Get of Fenris. It was a good display to see how things are done here in Chicago. Well, between these two anyway. She's only seen the pack interact for the most part.
[Roman Turner] Jackson asked him the most impossible question in the world. Was Rain ok? Oh hell for all he knew she was stark raving mad, or she was an angel. She could of been either, yet right now he was so clueless he wouldn't know without a neon arrow pointing to the correct answer.
"Honestly? I have no idea. She's upset about this Howard fella and all I managed to do was get her dander up. I might as well of stuck a burr up her butt."
His exhale was part frustration and regret.
[Izzy Montoya] The corner of her mouth tips dangerously toward a smile when Roman hands her another beer, toasts and hops up to sit next to her. She returns the clink of her bottle, the slight toast and lifts the beer to her lips for a healthy couple of swallows. She watches jackson as he arrives, and flicks a glance toward Sofie.
Drew mother's Roman, and walks away again. Jackson asks of Rain and Roman professes his frustration. Izzy chuckles, and exaggerates a sigh. "Women." Evidence she works in a male dominated field, there.
[Jackson Montgomery] He frowns a little bit and nods. "You know her better than me. Will I make it worse if I try to talk to her?"
[Roman Turner] "Seriously?"
He snorted at Jackson.
"Ya can't possibly make it worse, believe me."
[Kora] Kora finishes the last slice of meat on her plate and sets it on the counter behind her; a brief, swinging look directed now toward her packmate. She watches him move through the crowded kitchen, her face distant. There's no response from Kora on their shared spirit-line. Just that look.
Which is followed by a mirroring look, sharper back toward Rémy. She's standing up now, straight through the shoulders and the spine, chin high, her look direct - level across the distance. "I have my reasons," she says. A glance at the kin that may be instinctive - or explanatory - is left to the quiet context of body language. Her eyes return to Rémy, then - dark eyed look naked but latched somehow, like a door half-closed. "And you got the message. I don't care what you think about the living, but I won't hear that about the dead.
"Now. You're welcome to stay as long as you like. Excuse me," this with a look towards Roman, Sofie, Jackson. Kora stops at the door long enough to grab her coat and scarf from the hook, then disappears out down the hall, shrugging her way into her coat, buttoning up with deft, sure fingers before wrapping the scarf around her neck - once, twice, thrice.
Her footsteps echo down the hall, a long stride, quiet but not silent. Then she's in the sanctuary, a glance up for the moon, the bright points of the stars visible through the ribs of roof, far above. The air is so cold that the moisture it it seems to crystallize inside her lungs as she breathes.
[Drew Roscoe] "Huh." Drew's finishing up her beer at Remy's side, tipping her chin toward the ceiling along with the butt of the bottle to get the last drink out before searching for a trash bin and depositing of the empty dark-amber glass. She pulls her jacket on as well and grins, faintly, over to the Godi. "I think you charmed her."
She looks toward Roman, Izzy, and Jackson, and the smile broadens, brightens considerably. "I think we'll be on our way, just dropped in for a quick chat. Good to see you guys." General greetings were easier than individual ones, quicker and less telling. She buttoned her coat up from bottom to collarbone and lifted her eyebrows to the handsome man that had escorted her in (or was it the other way around?).
"Shall we?"
"I haven't been to the Brotherhood. It sounds..." Trailing off a moment, her expression turned a little sour. When her nose wrinkled across the bridge, it made the pert end lift, along with her upper lip slightly. It's an expression similar to that of a wolf snarl. Something about her features resembled it. "Like one of those Fraternities."
[Roman Turner] "It sure does sound like a Fraternity."
He chuckled and shook his head.
"Miss Kora is expecting, but no, as hard as it is to believe, Linus and I don't have mates. Me cause, well I ain't met no one and I'm sixteen and three quarters, so makes it a bit hard. Linus because, well he has enough company in his head."
His coat was shucked along with his hat that always made his hair dance with a life of it's own for a while.
"What about you? Ya hitched?"
[Sofie Janssen] With another shake of her hands, she used her clean sweater to wipe her hands off and started looking around the kitchen and what was available. As she searched, she talked. Sofie didn't mind chatting it up in the least. She's full of opinions. "I don't know if age matters so much. If the Gods think you're responsible enough to go out, hunt and fight, it's a sure sign enough they think you're mature enough to be starting a family."
Finding herself a knife and a cutting board, even if it's just some piece of wood, she places it up on the counter. From the paper bag she takes out the fat oval of Vienna bread and stuck the tip of the knife into a corner edge. Since the blade wasn't serrated it was a little slower to cut off some thick slices. "Nah. I'm not hitched yet. It's just a matter of time though. You know? Soon as someone thinks it's time for me to raise some children, and goes to see my Grandpops and parents, then there won't be anymore exploring the cities for me." But she doesn't sound sour about it. It's just the way it is and Sofie seems to accept that just fine.
She throws a look over at him, grinning. "So naturally I'm trying to get in everything I can before I'm pulled back home."
[Roman Turner] "I think ya should have some feelings for the person ya hitch up with, not just do it to make kids. Love has to be in there somewhere."
He got out a couple of chipped plates and set them on the counter top.
"And yeah, well I could make kids if I found someone that stirred my heart strings. I ain't in it just to increase numbers for the war. This war has been going on for generations, so many lost."
He shook his head as he pulled a couple of napkins from a fast food store out. Recycle, that was his motto.
[Sofie Janssen] "Oh sure. But I think love develops over time. It's chemistry in the beginning. I sure won't mate with someone just for kids. I'm not keen on letting someone paw me for the sake of breeding. I'm not cattle." So they agreed, in a way. They just took different routes to get there.
Bread cut, she turned to the meat to slice it. The blood had been dried, baked a deep brown around the chunk of roast, and she sliced it open to see a faint pink and brown colouring inside. It wasn't cooked rare but it wasn't overdone. "The best way to have this, would be to toast this bread in some of the animal fat over a grill or a pan in a fire. It soaks up some of the flavour. But, we're gonna have to just have it like this."
"It's great with mustard." Nodding to the new jar she'd picked up. "If you want some."
[Roman Turner] "Mustard sounds good, but if ya want to toast it, we got a hot plate hooked up to a car battery. It's not the best but it can heat stuff up."
He'd opened the jar of mustard and sniffed it.
"Funny, I would of taken ya for a mayo kind of girl."
[Sofie Janssen] "Nah. It's just crunchy bread without the fat drippings. It's good with this fresh loaf like this." Slices of beef were laid out on one side of sliced bread. She arranged it so there was plenty of meat, just not going overboard.
Smiling, she turned her pale eyes down to him. She's taller. "Mayo? Really? Mustard's good. Nice sharp flavour. Goes great with this. Go on, try it." Using the tip of the knife, she'd dig out some mustard and spread it across a smaller slice of beef. She rolled it up and handed it to him, encouraging.
[Roman Turner] He accepted the slice to take a bite though his mouth was watering for the meat. Bread and other fillers were just part of life and being polite meant he couldn't exactly hog out like he wanted to. A growing boy eats a lot after all and his kind ate more than most.
"Mmph, good."
Like a good boy he chewed, his jaw working, the tendon showing as he chewed.
"Now can we have the rest?"
[Sofie Janssen] Laughing low, she nodded. The knife was set down after two sandwiches were on plates. "Go ahead, help yourself." She left him a sandwich and picked up a plate for herself. Mustard had been put on hers and her sandwich had been cut in half, too.
She stood with her back to the counter, plate in one hand, jacket still on, and picked up half her sandwich to take a bite out of it. The crust crunched but the middle of the bread was baked this morning soft. She chewed with her mouth closed and watched him.
[Roman Turner] He opened his sandwich and added mustard to it, flipping it over to do the same to the otherside. Then he frowned, brows furrowing as he looked over her head at something on the wall.
"What in tarnations is that?"
As soon as her head turned he added meat to his sandwich, throwing it on before slamming the top back on the sandwich.
[Sofie Janssen] Pushing off the counter, she turned at the waist to look at the wall. She didn't know what to expect to find there, and spent a few moments looking. Swallowing food, she licked her teeth clean. "What is what?"
Turning back around, she looked over to him, stepping away from the counter in case it was some gigantic spider that she hadn't seen. But Roman didn't seem too freaked out. Still didn't stop her checking her shoulders, or setting down her sandwich on the plate to run her free hand through her pale hair. "What are you going on about?"
[Roman Turner] "It's gone. I saw something crawling up there but it went in a crack. Probably one of Linus' little guards."
Lying was second nature to a Ragabash and came without thought. Instead he stopped further questions by taking a huge bite of the sandwich and talking around it.
"Wan...ink?"
[Sofie Janssen] "Oh. Okay."
Picking up her food again, she takes another bite out of it. His murmur around food had her raising her brows. It took her a moment to figure out what he might be talking about. When she did, she nodded, her own cheek full of food. "Mmhmm." Using the back of her hand, she covered her mouth as she got out a: "Sure."
[Roman Turner] He grinned around what he was chewing as he turned to cross a few steps towards one of the coolers they kept. Here he nudged up the top with the tip of a boot and bent to fish out a soda he turned to hand to her. Next one for himself as he continued to chow down the sandwich.
"Good ook."
[Sofie Janssen] brb!
[Remy] [mostly just watching for now! still gotta get noms.]
[Roman Turner] ((What's a noms?))
to Kora, Remy, Sofie Janssen
[Kora] (He means he need to get food. :) )
to Remy, Roman Turner, Sofie Janssen
[Kora] The old cathedral has a distinctive presence in the umbra. The echoing stones, solid against the gray insubstantiality of the lesser buildings around it. Few enough spiders crawl over the dead transmission lines to the long-abandoned structure; instead, vines twist through the blind windows, dormant parasites. Come summer, they'll thrive again.
Afternoon clouds were chased away at dusk, and now the sky is high and clear, the air sharp and cold enough that when Kora pushes through the gauntlet in the middle of the vast sanctuary - closer to the nave than the hang-out area, (barely) heated by space heaters under the relative shelter of the choir loft - she draws in a short, shocked sort of breath and curses colorfully underneath her breath.
Then makes a somewhat undignified squeak, mid-way down her throat, her breath flaring around her like steam, swallowing hard and setting her jaw, shoulders forward, hands already in the pockets of her hoodie as she regains her bearings.
[Sofie Janssen] Plopping her sandwich half back on the plate freed a hand up for her to take a soda from the Gaian. "Thanks." She sets it on the counter too, and uses her finger under the ring of the can to pry it up, cracking it open with a pop.
Since her mouth is currently free of food, she takes the opportunity to talk. Again. "I was in the park the other day? Minding my business and watching this pair flirt." It's a small story. "I was sure the guy was a Garou, you know? Just one of those gut instincts. And here he was blushing and all, kinda like you do-" she grinned at Roman at that, "-and then you know, the next moment, he's grown a pair of these big, swaggering balls and looks at me..."
She pauses for a sip of cold soda and leans her side into the counter. "Wags his finger. You know like you do for a dog, or a small child? And goes, You! C'mere!" Sofie's eyes are sharp, bright with humour.
[Roman Turner] "Wait, ya saw him grow big ole testicles? What did you do when he showed em and waggled his finger at ya?"
First he felt something, then came sound. Of course he didn't know what caused the squeak but he had to cover for his Alpha, so he muttered.
"Mouse."
[Sofie Janssen] "No." The done is dry. "Do you always take things so literally?" Now she's having the unfortunate imagery that Roman has painted for her. It's comical, really. She doesn't share the details. But her eyes are shining with mirth and interest, and she hides a half smile as she takes another bite out of the sandwich.
Kora can probably smell roast beef from the kitchen area, where Roman and Sofie are standing around, eating. It's not been cooked here but somewhere else. The warmth is fading. Foil can only keep in so much heat. The big hunk of it sits on the counter, slices of it missing, with a three quarter Vienna loaf next to it and a jar of seeded mustard.
[Roman Turner] "Well sure, just think about it. But I still want to know what ya did after he commanded ya like a dog."
Another large bite was taken and then he began baiting Kora.
"Mmm, Mmmm, Mmmm, this sure is good Miss Sofie. Best roast beef I had in ages."
[Kora] Clouds are drifting off to the east, but the last rays of sunset in the west were clarified. A certain glow beneath the horizon, backlighting the low profiles of old warehouses and abandoned factories split by abandoned railroad spurs, the greater city backgrounded behind. Some lesson in blue-becoming-green, now fading to dark midnight.
The moon is full, but waning. Surrounded by an icy mist, visible in slices through the broken stained glass windows, the cracked spines of the roof. Linus and Roman have covered the largest with tarps, temporary materials to keep the snow from filling the space in silent drifts, but there are still places where she can see the bright points of the stars in the dark, skimming sky.
Her winter things are close by - the dark wool coat, the scarf and gloves - left in a neat pile on a wooden pew unbolted from the floor and pushed up against one of the columns supporting the stone arches.
Still shivering, she grabs them, slipping into the coat, buttoning it with bare fingers of one hand as she winds her scarf around her neck with the other. All this just for the half-jog through the nave, until she ducks through the door behind the chancel, down the old hallway lined with worn linoleum to the kitchen area.
She pushes open the door, flickering a glance between them, lingering on Roman as he starts to MMM MMM MM all over the place.
"Gods," she says. The scent carries in the cold air, a rich, meaty thread enough to make her mouth start water before she's halfway there. "I'm starving." A flicker of a look from one to the other, then back to Sofie. "Is there any ketchup?"
[Sofie Janssen] "Well, I... " Sofie trails off as Kora comes running in. She glances over the Jarl of the Fenris and offers a small smile. Her plate is set aside, next to her soda on the counter. "No ketchup. But there's some good mustard." Maybe they have ketchup, she doesn't. She had some bare essentials that fit in the rucksack, sitting against the wall.
The Kinfolk still has her jacket on. It's unbuttoned though, and her scarf falls in front of her shoulders, looped around her neck, with half her hair tucked under it.
[Roman Turner] His smile couldn't be wider as he took a half step to the side to pull open one of the drawers to fish around inside it. In a moment he was tossing little ketchup packets on the counter.
"Burger King, McDonald's, Wendy's, Whataburger, oh and here are some from Hardy's."
Naming off the different packets.
"Got some Horsey sauce in here from Arbys too."
[Kora] It's substantially warmer in the kitchen than it is out in the ruined sanctuary of the old cathedral. The walls here are solid. The building is more recent - solid brick - built in the late 40s, early 50s - with thick plaster walls and a flat cinder roof that has withstood fifty years of Chicago winters. A few patches, here and there, a little bit of tar and the roof here was made solid.
There's a vague stink in the air from the kerosene heater, but the warmth is so immediate that she breathes out, all at once, feeling virtually boneless in gratitude.
"Hey Sofie," says Kora, belatedly as she hip bumps Roman and begins snags two of the ketchup packets he is helpfully tossing up onto the old formica countertops, putting them aside for herself. Then she reaches up to undo the work she just finished, and unwind the hand-worked scarf from around her neck and mouth.
"This your doing - ?" she asks, lifting a chin toward the roast beef. Then, to Roman, a curl of her lip. "Horsey sauce? Gross. I just want ketchup."
A beat, and she turns around, snagging two more packets for herself.
"Gobs of it."
[Sofie Janssen] "Yeah." She nods at Kora with a small smile, having retreated to grab her own plate and half a sandwich that's left. "I got to talking to this butcher down town, ranting on about some hormonal products and the sort. By the end of it, I got this thing for half price. Nothing special. But it's a good cut, and I kept on the fat to help roast it."
"Left off the seasoning." Because there's nothing like a chunk of meat just cooked in it's own juices. Or so she thinks. "Thought it would be better that way." That Garou might appreciate it without all the trimmings.
[Roman Turner] "Sofie's a good cook, don'tcha think? She was telling me about this guy what grew a huge set of dangley parts and called her over like a pet dog. Go ahead Miss Sofie, I want to hear the rest of it."
He grinned around the next bite, waiting to hear the end of this as he paused long enough to rip open the Horsey sauce which he squirted straight in to his mouth.
"Oh yeah, that'll clear the sinus."
[Kora] "What about mayo?" Kora mutters, nudging Roman aside to get into the drawer full of extra condiments and complete the search herself. Some things do not require the services of a Ragabash. While Sofie tells the story about her great deal, Kora retrieves a chipped plate from one of the cabinets - clean, but chipped - and starts constructing her own meal. Slicing the bread, imperfectly in her haste, and opening up her condiment packets.
The cuffs of her winter coat get in the way, so she pushes them up her forearms before continuing. "It's brilliant," she says, a tip of her head toward the covered roast. "Thanks." Without otherwise interrupting their conversation. Roman devours a packet of horseradish sauce, and Kora, who is at just that moment mixing packets of mayo and ketchup with salt and black pepper until it resembles pepto-bismal flecked with poppy seeds gives him a Look.
"Gross," she says, even-toned, either unconscious of the irony or deliberately inviting it with a half-smile like slow-curling smoke.
Then, the half-smile stills. Doesn't fade, just settles on her mouth. She gives Sofie a quiet look, thoughtful, her pale brows drawing together over her dark eyes. "What was this?"
[Roman Turner] Kora says gross and asks what's this and of course he is so helpful. Leaning closer to look at the mix she made.
"I think it's ketchup and mayo, sorta looks like special sauce, all ya need are the pickles, onions, lettuce, cheese and the says me seed bun."
[Sofie Janssen] Finishing off another mouthful of her food, she sets it aside and dusts crumbs off her hands and the front of her jacket while she swallows it all down. "Okay," she says to Roman, and now Kora, ready to launch back into that short story. Her teeth are licked clean and she leans back against the counter.
"So I'm at the park, in broad daylight, right? Sitting around, eating some lunch, and there's this girl that picks up something from the ground." Pausing, she debates with herself and cocks her head to the side. "Well, okay, she wasn't a girl. She was a pretty woman, the sort that you see on tv." She had been discussing cable earlier. "Anyway... she comes towards this guy, with his cool shades, and starts asking if he's dropped something. Totally out of a romantic movie and all."
"I'm watching-" and grinning too, like she is now, "-and he's blushing and stammering. She's playing all nice and coy. I'm thinking it's great. Because boys do that sort of thing back home, and it was totally weird seeing this really attractive woman do it. But then this guy, who'd been throwing me glances, turns to me, and makes a motion with his hand."
She gestures, helping aid her little story, by making a come hither motion with her fingers. "And goes. You! C'mere!"
[Kora] Kora elbows Roman, firmly out of the way when he decides to analyze her mixture. There's a snap at the end of it; this touch of extra force to it. Something about the moon, maybe, waning in the sky from the full. Gibbous now, slowly eaten by shadow.
Or maybe it's as simple as: coming between a pregnant woman and her food.
The foil rustles as Kora pulls it back, the pungent scent of roasted meat spikes again in the small space. She makes a noise of appreciation in the back of her throat, and reaches to take off her scarf, unbutton her coat, and hang them on a hook by the door before returning to sandwich making. Once or twice she shoots a look to Sofie over her shoulder. The narrowness of the question she asked earlier - what's this - eases fractionally as the story continues. Sofie's smiling, after all. Grinning at the memory of the little by play between strangers.
Kora cuts her meat thick, lathers on the mayo-ketchup mixture, and fits the meat firmly between two slices of breath. There's that look though, back over a narrow shoulder, dark blue eyes on the kinswoman. "What'd you do?"
[Sofie Janssen] "I've gotten up from the park bench by this point." Still grinning, Sofie plunges ahead. "With half my lunch packed up, and I just stare at him. Like, I couldn't believe it right? Who'd this guy think he was? I figured he was Garou, or something like it. I don't know, I can't tell. But there was this gnawing sensation that told me to be a bit wary."
"But I couldn't help myself.. I'm like: I beg your pardon?" Her brows raises. Her pale blue eyes are shining, bright and laughing now, but she's trying to keep a straighter mouth and failing. "And he's like: You aint begging and I aint asking for no pardon. Whatever the hell that means." Her eyes roll briefly.
"And then he's asking me what my name is. While this jerk is stepping in front of this woman now, who has decided she's getting out of there. Which, believe me, is damn wise. It was like the guy flipped a switch from young dork, into swaggering ball buster in the bat of an eye." Twisting at the waist, she grabbed her soda from next to her plate and leaned back against the counter again. It was cold in her hand, but no colder then the outdoors, chilling wind had been on her cheeks.
"So I laugh, tell him how cute it is, and after making sure he's not going to maul this chick, I head off to grab a drink nearby. I kept an eye on them, but he wandered off and so did she. I guess it wasn't Hollywood romance after all."
Then she grows a little more sober and looks over to Kora, giving a small shrug of a shoulder and trying for apologetic but not quite getting there. "If I've pissed off some Garou, sorry. But, what was I gonna do? Just hand over details to some jerk, stranger? Could have been a nasty ass serial killer." Pause. "Not the good kind." Because Garou were in that category too.
[Roman Turner] He stepped out of the way of Kora and her food, not wanting to become dessert. And Sofie told her story well enough to have him pausing for a moment before turning back to steal another slice off the roast which he stuffed in his mouth pronto.
"He just let ya walk off?"
[Sofie Janssen] "Yeah." She took a sip from her soda and glanced from Kora back to Roman. "He did. I don't think he was too happy about it. But he didn't say anything. He's name is Eric, if that helps any." Something she overheard. Not because she shared introductions. Clearly she hadn't.
[Sofie Janssen] [gawd. ignore typo's please.]
[Roman Turner] "Doesn't ring a bell with me but there's plenty of folk here I don't know. I would think it would be safe to say if he meant ya harm, he'd not let ya go."
"Man this is good stuff."
His eyes closed as he chewed, savoring the meat.
"My ma makes a mean roast on Sundays. I miss those Sunday dinners."
[Linus] There's only one real entrance Linus makes these days. He's not used the door in over a month and only then to help a grocery swathed Kin or a pregnant Alpha by eliminating the number of obstacles necessary (and the brief irritating humour it grants him to 'assist' the Jarl's 'delicate' condition). Beyond such things, in most serious considerations, Linus is umbral. Goes umbral and comes back umbral and usually within the vein of stopping in or a bite to eat between patrols or check-ups.
Hrafn's efforts have been errant at best though the consistent increase of ravens in the upper reaches of the Church as well as throughout the territory would not be unnoticeable. Neither would the occasional presence of an alley filled with carrion and small 'Rot piles' from which these physical counterparts can dine. Keeping a Raven's attention within the boundaries of the inner city was a difficult matter.
The air thrums, hiccups and Pops applicably, the young Godi settling into place with a momentary pause that is at once to catch his equilibrium and another to complete the mental transition from one realm to another. His attire is the usual affair; cargo pants, worn sneakers, black half-coat and a dark skullcap. His chin and cheeks are a thin sheen of stubble and his eyes are cradled with the dark circles of one who is tired.
"Food." A not so sarcastic ring for something of sustenance, the Godi turns in place and immediately makes a bee-line toward the Dinner tables, hands out-stretched like some undead scourge in search of brains.
[Drew Roscoe] The rumble of Drew's Dodge Ram isn't nearly distinguishable enough to be called familiar, not even if she visited the Church regularly (and she doesn't, not yet, there's no rhyme or rhythm to her dropping by). It isn't even really loud enough to be heard by people tucked away in the kitchen of the Church. It is, however, present, a quiet thrum of a diesel engine as it rounds the corner and pulls up to park not directly in front of the church, but close enough.
Drew's at the steering wheel, of course, pushing the stick shift between the seats into park and killing the engine. She had unbuttoned her coat to make up for the warmth of the heater in the truck, but was buttoning the thick blue not-a-peacoat back up after unbuckling her seatbelt but before getting out. She's wearing a clingy pale blue short-sleeved sweater top under the coat and a pair of dark jeans whose cuffs fall over the short heels of black dress boots. Her hair was in a loose ponytail that laid over one shoulder rather than straight down her back, but most of the makeup she'd applied earlier in the day for work had faded off by now.
She was cute, but she was nothing compared to the man in her passenger seat. She glanced over at Remy, flicked her eyebrows up as though to ask 'ready to go?' unnecessarily, then hopped down out of her truck and made her way around onto the sidewalk, meeting up with the Godi and tugging the collar of her coat up over her bare neck, shivering some with the bone-touching chill of the night.
"Have you even met Kora before?"
[Roman Turner] "Boy howdy, see what happens when ya bring a good roast to dinner? Why, I think ya done become a Pied Piper Miss Sofie."
This comment made when Linus suddenly appeared to walk like a zombie towards the food.
[Sofie Janssen] "Oh, I wasn't worried much about him making some harm, because he let me wander off. It wasn't down a dark alley either, but in the middle of the park in daylight. So I wasn't concerned. More that I might have mouthed off to someone I shouldn't have." After another drink, she put the soda down and picked up the rest of her sandwich.
"I really am not trying to make any troubles for anyone here. I suppose I should have been more diplomatic about it." Could have. Probably wouldn't have though. The guy was rude. It still might yet bite her on the ass. There's always better choices in hindsight.
As Linus makes his way in, she glances up from where she's eating and watches him head for food. There's something satisfying knowing she can contribute, even just a single meal. Especially to a pregnant Jarl. Roman's compliment makes her flash a grin at him. "I think you're right."
[Kora] "Not one of ours," Kora confirms quietly, a flick of a dark-eyed look from Roman to Sofie, and back again. She doesn't chime in when Roman speculates on whether the stranger would have let Sofie go if he'd meant her harm, though some pull of muscles in her jaw hardens as she considers the possibility, flatting her mouth, making the subtle curve grim and flat.
"I have a kinsman by that name, but you'd know him." A brief look at Roman, here. "If you saw him. Missing an arm and an eye. And he's not a kid. 40-something."
Maybe 30-something. Over the age of 27 tends to blur together for animals unlikely to see the north side of 25.
"I'm glad you're being careful, though," she continues. Then Linus appears, exhausted, demanding food. Kora's rather gargantuan roast-beef, mayo and ketchup sandwich oozes with pink-white sauce and the clear, warm juices of the roast. She's sliced it in half, picked up the larger half to lift to her mouth.
"Here Li," says Kora to her brother, nudging the other half of her sandwich toward him. The brief tug of a smile at the corner of her mouth. "Just the way you like it."
(She's lying, Linus. Sisters always do.)
[Rain McKellar] Their cab pulls to a stop a little ways beyond the stout Cabrini church that stands abandoned and over-grown with vines and greenery. It may give Jackson pause when she glances toward its assortment of broken windows (some still whole, still hale and sparkling) and the rough state of its roofline with something akin to recognition. A sense of home.
"This is it," she tells him, as the songbird and her unfamiliar guest pile out of the cab and she pulls her guitar from the trunk. They're not the only ones approaching the packhouse from the street, though, and Drew's truck isn't familiar enough to Rain for her to feel entirely comfortable with that coincidence.
"C'mon," she says, tipping her head to the broad steps and then heading that way before he has time to argue. Rain doesn't even knock before pushing open the heavy door. There's the sound of voices within, and the air that escapes is only somewhat warmer than the night outside.
[Jackson Montgomery] He climbs out of the cab, paying the driver and supplying a solid tip. Jackson was not the kind of guy who felt like adding to the traffic congestion on the streets by getting a vehicle of his own; that being the case, he knew to treat the cabbies right so that they would treat him right. He smiles to the man and steps away, letting the car head off as he turns around to look the church over for a moment before following behind. "Coming."
An abandoned church, he thinks to himself as he keeps step with Rain, his expression just a wee bit anxious. Gee, this doesn't look like foreboding at all...
[Izzy Montoya] If she was aware it was dinner time, she likely would have waited. She did, however, promise to swing by in a couple of days - it's been a couple, and here she is. She has a rare Saturday off - or, well, on call which is pretty much the same thing for her - and so it is she upholds her part of the bargain.She's swinging by.
The beat up old car that does nothing to really hide it's an unmarked official vehicle pulls up to park across the street near the old church. She takes her time getting out of the vehicle, making sure to finish her cigarette before she kills the engine. This also gives her time to see Drew's truck park just a ways ahead of her. There's a moment when she considers saving it for another day - but in the end, she pushes open the door, checks both her weapons are in their holsters, and stands.
And a cab pulls up as well. The Detective arches a brow, slightly, and settles her leather coat more comfortably across her shoulders. Only then does she make her way across the street and toward the church.
[Linus] The half a sandwich Kora holds out is half-way gone before anyone can say much of another word. Mayo and sauces cling to his cheeks and his swallowing reflex and chewing mechanism goto war on who gets first dibs on the morsels being ingested. The Godi chokes briefly, tilted his head back, one eye crushed closed and the other wide. It takes a few moments for him to munch his way around the bits and pieces before he's finally got things down to manageable eating levels. A gloved hand rises to back-wipe the excess from his features and stare at Kora.
"What the fuck did you put in this thing?" And he's eying the sandwich a moment before devouring another section of it hungrily. Another wipe over his face.
[Rain McKellar] "Hey everybody," Rain calls into the Sanctuary, her well-trained voice echoing clearly in its hard-walled expanse. "I brought comp'ny."
She shoves the door closed behind her. Whoever's next to approach will have to open it themselves. Rain lives here, and letting out whatever little warmth they had was not in her game plan.
"They're nice, really," she assures Jackson as they move into the larger common space so she can lay her guitar on one of the hard-backed pews and shed her coat to shroud it, somewhat.
[Sofie Janssen] "This guy definitely had all his limbs," she tells Kora.
While she's watching Linus eat like an eight year old, someone else calls out in the church and she automatically looks that way. The last of her sandwich is gone, leaving an empty, chipped plate on the counter behind her. She's holding her soda can, and can't see through walls so has no idea who's coming and with company.
[Roman Turner] "In the kitchen!"
Called out as he handed Linus the rest of his soda after he figured the guy wasn't going to need the hinny lick maneuver for choking.
[Jackson Montgomery] "Good to hear." He shakes off the anxious feeling as best he can and smiles to her. It doesn't go away completely, but it is mostly pushed down as he follows her into the common space. He's looking around, taking in the architecture and the decor with interest. Churches always have a grandeur to them, whether new or ancient, being built to house a deity (or more than one, depending on the religon). And Jackson finds things with grandeur fascinating, which is evident as he follows along.
The sound of voices ahead gets his attention. He keeps behind Rain, letting her lead the way.
[Izzy Montoya] She doesn't walk right in, as the couple did before her. Instead, she tucks one gloved hand into the pocket of her coat, and raps the knuckles of the other on the door - hopefully loud enough to be heard.
Then she waits.
[Linus] "...If You're a bunch of spirals looking to be polite about an ass kicking, go away! Otherwise, come the fuck inside and quit being all Knock Knock Kindly!"
He yells at the double doors, around a mouthful of roast when the knocks and yells begin to accumulate.
[Rain McKellar] Whatever idol once graced the knave behind the altar is gone. And the Sanctuary, while grand by proportions and still bespeckled with colored starlight seeping through the unbroken panes of the tableaus above, is also wreathed with the chill of the outside night.
She gestures further into the old building, taking him through the once-great but sometimes-still-holy maw of the main room and into the small kitchen, overfull as it is with faces and Rage tonight.
Rain is smaller than the kin she's brought with her, a scant five-six to his five-ten, but the way they enter the room has the familiar kin interposed between the newcomer and the pack (and, gratefully, Linus's shoutin'). His breeding announces him even before she does, but the rap on the door causes her to pause for a moment -- glance back, and then continue.
"Miss Kora, Mr. Roman, and Mr. Linus," she says, addressing the Last Watch each in turn. "Mr. Jackson, here's come to say hello. He's family t' me and Roman."
No fanfare. And at that, she steps aside so someone can go see to the door or send her off to do the same.
[Linus] "...Well now, babysittin' dues just got five bucks steeper, Roman..." Linus begins to snicker.
[Roman Turner] "Someone get the door!"
He bellowed just as Rain opened the door to the kitchen. Smiling sheepishly to Rain.
"Uh, can ya get the door please?"
The he was sizing Jackson up.
"Howdy. I'm Roman."
He stepped forward and thrust out his hand.
[Sofie Janssen] Dodging past a few, she quickly grabs her rucksack and stows it behind her legs, kicking it out of the way. Then she stays leaning against the counter while new people filter in. She hasn't met any of them and looks at each in turn. Soda is slowly sipped.
[Izzy Montoya] A huff of breath is the only amusement she shows as the bellow reaches her, and being as she's not a bunch of anything -except, perhaps, a bunch of Attitude that gets a fair share of ass kicking anyway - she pushes open the door, closing it behind her. She gives her eyes a moment to adjust to the light, listens for the voices, and heads that way.
When Kora last saw her, she was doing her best to refuse to favor an injured leg. She doesn't have to work at it today. Her stride is long and strong, her footsteps echoing through the sanctuary.
She arrives behind Rain and Jackson, and pauses in the doorway, taking in the faces of those present - marking position and activity with a practiced sweep of her gaze. "Evening."
[Jackson Montgomery] He looks to each of them, offering a smile that is a mix between two tones; warm and personable, and polite and respectful. One is his natural inclination, the other is what he's used to doing around his family. There's a touch of uncertainty acting as the glue that melds those two different looks together. It's certainly not fear...he's not cowering or meek. It's more that he's just trying to feel the mood in the room out to respond right.
"Hey." He takes the offered hand with a touch wider of a smile. "Jackson, like Rain said. Jackson Montgomery. Nice to meet you all."
[Kora] "Hear that?" The neighborhood is quiet enough. There are no close neighbors. The squatters and dealers have retreated, found other corners, on other streets. Rain's voice rings out, and there is the diesel engine, the cab pulling away, its tires crunching on packed ice glazed across the street. City crews come no closer than Franklin, three blocks away. They'll slip and slide until April, here. Then Linus shouts, and Kora huffs a laugh, mostly underneath her breath.
The kitchen is made for a crowd, but there are just a handful of seats scattered around a reclaimed table. Kora returns the remnants of her sandwich to its place, picks it up, and snags a place at the table.
Then, a glance back at Linus, choking on his half-a-sandwich. "Mayo, ketchup. Maybe plum sauce? I dunno. Good though, isn't it?"
Jackson and Rain disappear into a small door set aside from the chancel. It was added later, and leads to the social hall, flat brick against the solid gray stones of the old cathedral. The kitchen is just inside, a few steps down a hallway that continues well beyond. Warm and crowded after the bright, stark chill of the church.
Seated at the table, dressed in jeans, black Doc Marten's, and several layers - hoodie over t-shirt over thermal. The hoodie is half-unzipped. Kora's pale blonde hair is pulled roughly back and tied against its own weight, at the nape of her neck. She sits at the old metal table with a certain a certain confidence, a certain animal sprawl, taking
"Rain," the greeting is familiar; she lifts a chin at Jackson,whose breeding speaks for him, sparks bright against her senses. "Hey. Kora." Then, "Rain, Jackson this is Sofie. She's Fenrir kin. Sofie, this is Rain. She's Roman's tribe, and bunks here with us."
[Rain McKellar] "Ah. Sure."
Rain glances from Roman to Jackson, and then lays a hand on the newcomers arm briefly. "I'll be right back," she tells him, only to find that it's utterly unnecessary. So she stays put.
"Evening, Detective," she says to Izzy. Offering a little smile.
Instead Rain shrugs a little and moves out of the way. To the scared and startled woman in the corner she offers a momentary glance and then, with an uncanny sort of understanding, Rain looks away to give her some space and solace.
When introduced, she offers, "Hi, Sofie," in a voice that's gentle and unassuming against all the yelling and Rage in the room. She waves her fingertips a little at the Fenrir woman.
[Sofie Janssen] "Hey." Rain and Jackson both get a smile out of her, but it's closer to a brief flash of teeth given her features. She steps forward to extend a hand to each. Rain first, before she runs off to fetch the door if she's going, and then Jackson. "Nice to meet you both."
[Roman Turner] "Did ya hear that Miss Kora, your own brother is charging you babysitting fees."
Between himself and Linus, it was a contest on who could stir the most trouble. Together it was double trouble. Izzy entered and got a.....
"Howdy Miss Detective Montoya, Ma'am."
With Roman most greetings were an entire introduction. He shook Jackson's hand, giving it a few good pumps.
"Hot danged but it is getting to be a real party in here. How long ya been in town Jackson? Where ya staying?"
[Kora] "And Izzy." A moment later. Then, like this is a mnemonic, goes around naming the people in the room, pointing them out with the crust of her sandwich. "Sofie. Sofie, Izzy. Izzy, Rain. Rain, Izzy, Jackson, Rain, Sofie, Izzy."
A subtle curl of her mouth for the verbal slapstick.
Then, " - beer's in the cooler, food's on the counter." This is directed to Jackson as much as everyone. The kinsman will find the Jarl's dark blue eyes direct on him, a quiet, full look, the humor fading from both her voice and her curving mouth. "You're more than welcome to fix yourself a sandwich, or grab yourself a beer."
[Izzy Montoya] She doesn't try to correct Roman - doing so is what got her the Miss Detective Montoya Ma'am name to begin with. She just nods, slightly. She lets her gaze linger on Rain a moment in greeting, before she simply lifts a hand to everyone else
...and makes for the beer.
[Rain McKellar] So very many people. It's not the crowd that Rain minds, it's the keeping up with a thousand things going on at once. She shakes Sofie's hand, and her own is lightly callused in places from her craft.
"Nice ta meetcha," she says, under the press of interweaving conversations. And if Rain's foot just happened to bump the leg of Linus's chair as she passed the slightly assholic Godi, then it was clearly a mishap from too many people in the room and not Roman wearin' off on her.
"Babysitting fees, huh?" she asks. Flat. No lilt to it. Rain folds her arms across her middle and eyes him. "I'mma keep that in mind, Mr. Linus. I am." But that breaks into a little smile, because she doesn't hold anything against any of them for long.
[Jackson Montgomery] He nods and waves to Kora and to Sofie, smiling warmly, and then looks over his shoulder to Izzy. He takes note of the 'detective' of course, and he gives her a nod. "Hello."
The amount of people he just got introduced to would be dizzying for some, but Jackson's used to it. Whether school, parties or other functions, he's been through the whirlwind of handshakes and names that he can keep up, and he does so smoothly here. Ramon's questions draw his attention back, and he smiles.
"I've been in town since beginning of September...I'm attending film school at Flashpoint. Staying at the dorm housing there." He smiles a bit and shrugs. "I've been meaning to come and make some introductions, but I wanted to get the first semester out of the way first. Get some momentum going, you know."
[Linus] "Pregnant woman and their god damn cravings..."
He mutters, peeling back one of the bread slices to take a look inside the remnants of the sandwich. A cautionary stare is all that's left, before he devours the last of it, cheeks puffing out with the gesture and hands wiping themselves down against his clothing like any self-respecting twenty something year old might manage in a tight spot or a lazy moment. He flicks a hand out toward all the people, still chewing enough to make whatever joke about the crowd and the Church Social this has become a moment in waiting. By the time he's swallowed, that moment has passed and he waves it off.
"Kor'...that Dead Rite position out on the East side of the Boundaries." He swallows and sucks some mayo from his thumb. "...I found a couple more ranging further out. Seem to be keeping their distance from the Caern, mostly south side, pushing in toward Chinatown here or there, but they seem to be set up with the intent to lure and draw. Pull attention and snicker about it from afar. Ask me, the bastards are pulling some rudimentary attrition tactics around the city. Wouldn't be surprised if some things start popping up here or there...."
And then around on Rain, a brow perked evenly over a dark brown eye.
"Sure thing, sweetheart. Just means you might well inherit the fees. Fuck knows things are getting a little crowded. Need to start figuring something out with all these new bodies in town. Get you people settled so you're working with one another and not simply under our stretched thin asses."
His eyes narrow, searching for some sort of refreshment, having polished off the remainder of Roman's soda without much hesitation.
[Sofie Janssen] Izzy got a nod from Sofie, since the Detective didn't seem interested in shaking hands and what not. For all the new faces, the Get Kinfolk has taken a back seat. It's gone from telling stories of recent past, gossiping and eating, to a crowd in the place. It had been a good day to bring that roast beef.
[Rain McKellar] "If you really feel that way, I'll work on movin' out, first thing," she tells the oft-rough-around-the-edges Godi with a tone that is not even approaching argumentative. At the end of a day like today, it's more tired and worn than anything else. It's soft, and damn near apologetic.
[Kora] Kora - who is on second glance noticeably pregnant, the firm curve of her stomach evident beneath the half-zipped hoodie - gives her brother a simple, quiet smirk as he he opens up the half-sandwich he had half-devoured, looking for whatever remained. She's solidly in the second trimester, five or five and a half months along.
"There was some sort of - " Kora's mouth twists, briefly, more at the right corner than the left. " - kinfolk network last year." She comments, as Linus starts discussing What Is to Be Done with the kinfolk. "Joe hated it." Then, she offers a subtle half-shrug underneath. The exchange between the pair shifts, though, and Kora gives Rain a firm shake of her head.
"Ignore him. You're welcome here, Rain."
[Roman Turner] "She's got ya there Linus. She moves out and you'll not have them snacks ya like so much."
He bent and pulled a beer from the cooler, shoving one towards Linus then Jackson and whoever else wanted one.
"I guess the Tribal Elder knows ya been in town Jackson? It's good to meet another of the family."
[Linus] "Oh don't start that with me?" It's a whine that the Godi flings at the ceiling. Then he's standing and moving toward Roman for his beer, pointing back at Kora along the way.
"Listen to her. She's a woman too. You'll be fine. I need a drink. Beer me, Small one!" He pops the cap on the beverage and takes a slug.
[Drew Roscoe] [Reposted for the sake of Damon]
[Drew Roscoe]
The rumble of Drew's Dodge Ram isn't nearly distinguishable enough to be called familiar, not even if she visited the Church regularly (and she doesn't, not yet, there's no rhyme or rhythm to her dropping by). It isn't even really loud enough to be heard by people tucked away in the kitchen of the Church. It is, however, present, a quiet thrum of a diesel engine as it rounds the corner and pulls up to park not directly in front of the church, but close enough.
Drew's at the steering wheel, of course, pushing the stick shift between the seats into park and killing the engine. She had unbuttoned her coat to make up for the warmth of the heater in the truck, but was buttoning the thick blue not-a-peacoat back up after unbuckling her seatbelt but before getting out. She's wearing a clingy pale blue short-sleeved sweater top under the coat and a pair of dark jeans whose cuffs fall over the short heels of black dress boots. Her hair was in a loose ponytail that laid over one shoulder rather than straight down her back, but most of the makeup she'd applied earlier in the day for work had faded off by now.
She was cute, but she was nothing compared to the man in her passenger seat. She glanced over at Remy, flicked her eyebrows up as though to ask 'ready to go?' unnecessarily, then hopped down out of her truck and made her way around onto the sidewalk, meeting up with the Godi and tugging the collar of her coat up over her bare neck, shivering some with the bone-touching chill of the night.
"Have you even met Kora before?"
[Izzy Montoya] Kora mentions the kin network, and Izzy arches a brow, slightly. She finds an empty spot at the counter to lean against, and opens the beer she'd grabbed, sliding to the side to get out of Linus's way so that he can be beered.
She unfastens her jacket, and slides her hand into the pocket of her slacks. She crosses her ankles - perviously injured right over the left - and simply listens.
[Jackson Montgomery] "Well..." He smiles a little in that 'Yeeeeah, about that' kind of way, rubbing at the back of his neck. He takes the offered beer with a grateful nod. "Thanks. No, I don't think so. My father had given me a certain amount of time to go make proper introductions, and so...well, that's what I'm starting now. So unless he did some advance notice for me, which I doubt, I've been sorta flying under the radar for the last few months."
[Rain McKellar] Rain is holding grudges slightly longer than usual tonight. It's a mark, among other things, that she is not entirely okay. Whatever's eating her, though, she doesn't bring up at the dinner table. But Linus has bothered her, and it's not smoothing away as quickly as usual.
"Mr. Roman, I've never been able to find Ms. Lila, if that's who our Elder is. 'Swhy I brought him here, rather than sendin' him off t' go looking for her."
Rain declines a beer. It's the first time in a long time she hasn't had a drink with the pack when offered.
[Remy] 'Cute' isn't enough of a superlative for Remy's face. When he gets out of Drew's big old truck, heads turn and hearts flutter. It's freezing cold, though, so he has an excuse to clap the hood of his ski jacket onto his head and to button that collar right up to his nose. Face mostly obscured, he trots up on the sidewalk with the young kin. The motion of his head might be a nod, or it might be a shake; hard to tell.
"Sorta," he says. "I think I saw her that night at that irish pub. You know, right before me and all the Fianna threw down?" There's a note of barely-disguised pride there.
[Kora] "I'm serious," Kora says quietly to Rain, finding the songbird's dark brown eyes, and holding them, level and sure. The corner of her mouth quirks. "I don't care how much he grumbles. You're welcome here. It's easier for us to know you're safe when we wake up and find scones on the counter."
Maybe she has ulterior motives.
A flicker of a look toward Sofie. "Or a roast in the kitchen." Her curving mouth widens; this is quietly spoken, mostly for the pair of kinswomen. Kora's straightening, though, the last crumbs of the sandwich falling over her plate.
"I saw Lila last moon," her alto rises, a quiet chord, a brief, sidelong look at Rain. A certain narrowing of her brows, thoughtful, as the look lingers. " - but she travels, all the time." Then, a look back to Roman. "Someone needs to stand for your kin, Roman, in her absence."
[Remy] "Oh, and," he remembers suddenly, "I was at her christmas dinner for like five minutes."
[Jackson Montgomery] He follows the conversation about the their Tribe elder, quiet for the moment and keeping track of the conversation. In the absence of something to say, Jackson is a keen observer, and that's exactly what he's doing now.
[Sofie Janssen] Looking over to Kora, Sofie throws her a quick grin and glances over to Rain. Sofie's not a cook. Her scones would be like rocks. But a roast is another matter. It's not all that hard to throw a piece of meat in an oven and shut the door. While Sofie isn't staying at the pack house, and with some kinfolk instead, she has dropped by several times now. She took the welcome to mean what it is.
"Don't worry about him," she tells Rain, trying for supportive. "He's just upset he's not in Hawaii with coconut boobs and grass skirts, with girls fanning him down."
[Roman Turner] He had seen Lila only at Moots himself. Infact, if he had to , he probably couldn't find the female. Kora spoke up and one of Roman's brows rose.
"Well the few I have met, I have offered my help to, my contact information and even a place to sleep. But I ain't so sure how well my Elder is gonna like me stepping on her toes. Oh well, life goes on, right?"
He shrugged and stood up a little straighter.
"Short of making some confounded claim and a darned fool of myself, I'll do what I can of course. And Rain, unless ya fall for someone, ya ain't going nowhere just cause Linus grumps all the time."
[Rain McKellar] Sofie is not in any way in danger of losing Pride of Place as the resident kinfolk culinary expert. She made a roast, Rain made spaghetti. The scones in question come from whatever coffee shop is borrowing her services to round out their live entertainment roster. Because they can't sell the day old stuff, and Rain is more than happy to bring them home to her family.
Kora catches her eye, and for a moment there's the open petulance of a young person there, brimming, clear and concealing something sadder. Then that fades, and the girl's shoulders straighten a little. Her breathing shallows slightly. It's faint, and momentary, but a wolf like Kora will most definitely notice it.
It unsettles the Gaian woman in way that Kora hasn't since she came to live with them. It's an echo of when she'd been Kora bangs-on-tables UnpronouncableLastName to the kinswoman.
Rain breathes out, closes her eyes for a half-second, and it's gone. She offers Kora and Roman each a little nod of agreement, and the matter drops.
"Maybe you can teach me how to make somethin' like that," she asks Sofie, indicating her handiwork on the table. If they were going to be housemates, it might come in handy to have shared repertoire. Or be friends.
[Sofie Janssen] "Oh sure." Sofie is only happy to help the pack, and friends out. It comes from being from a smaller community. Pushing off the counter, she leaves her soda behind and heads over to the chunk of meat. "You want some? I told Roman it's great with mustard. You should try."
"Roasts you just got to stick them in a hot oven, then stab them with a knife some way through, and if the juice comes out bloody you have to cook it longer." The woman talks as she goes about slicing off some more meat, whether Rain had said she wanted some or not. "There's some formula for cooking times and meat ratio, but forget about that. Just keep an eye on it every twenty minutes or so. Make sure it doesn't dry out."
[Jackson Montgomery] When it appears that--for the moment, at least--he's not in deep shit for not checking in with someone earlier, he relaxes just a tiny bit. He's content for the moment to drink the beer he was passed and get to know people by virtue of observing them.
[Linus] The Beer's gone by the time the others have calmed Rain down. If the Godi seems at all constrained by the effort, he doesn't let on. He frowns but only marginally, whilst pacing around the interior of the Kitchen. It's a minute or two before he's finally setting the empty bottle down and pulling his jacket together to zip back up again.
"There are some sweeps I want to do of the area between us and the Caern. I'm gonna go finish that and then check in with Hrafn, see if he's found anything else that might be of interest. I'll check back in later."
A roll of shoulders and head and the Godi flicks a glance into some of the chrome around the kitchen. The air pops and he's off into the flipside, doing an overnight.
(gotta head home here folks. Back later.)
[Drew Roscoe] "Ah yeah..." Drew remembers both occasions, she had been there after all. She didn't quite remember Remy at the Yule party because there were plenty of other things at the forefront of her mind, especially following the conversation she and Kora had in a bedroom no one else interrupted. The bar, though, there was a lot going on, too much for her to really remember Kora being there. She'd drank to the point of not caring that Remy and half the city's worth of Fianna had gotten into a fight that she couldn't recall the beginning of anymore.
But still, these all seemed like passings more than much else. Drew tucked her hands under her chin, warming them on the heat radiating through thin skin at her throat, and trotted on up the church steps. She'd watched a few faces go in before them while she'd gotten herself adjusted in the truck and then waited at the passenger door for Remy to join her. She knew there had to be some sort of a meeting that she didn't hear about... that or coincidence was carrying its hands rather heavy tonight.
Words lingered at her tongue, but none ever made it past there. So she was quiet, looking slightly conflicted, even as she lifted a hand, rapped three solid knocks onto the heavy double doors of the Church's front entrance, then opened them up without waiting for a response. The snow was kicked off her boots on the front step before she walked inside, pushing the door open enough for Remy to make it in behind her.
There wasn't much need to call out 'hello?', she could hear the voices resounding from the kitchen, could see the bodies in the visible sliver of doorway at the other side of the large sanctuary room. Rather she cleared her throat, sniffed against the residual effects of cold, and began to unbutton her coat as she walked with the faint 'clnk-clnk' of her low, broad heels toward the kitchen.
[Kora] Kora's nostrils flare as if she were scenting the air. It's a subtle thing, quietly lupine beneath the evenness of her steady gaze. Then the moment changes, the girl's breathing shallows. Beneath the surface of her fine, pale skin, the sense of the animal inside Kora sharpens. One can imagine her ears pricking, the long-distance steadiness as she moves while remaining fixed on a point distant.
Except she's human too, pregnant and still hungry. Kora pushes away from the table, stands and heads back toward the counter, inserting herself close enough to her brother, picking up a few stray slices of cooling roast and sliding onto her plate, not bothering with bread now.
"You should talk to Izzy," Kora says, lifting her chin at Jackson again. "I'm sure she has some stories that would make a killer cop movie." A brief, quiet pause, then a glance to Linus. "The doc found some information on the people who owned the rental house where Drew was attacked. Brought us some maps of their other places. I wonder if it any of them would line up with those dead rites you found."
A long shot, that. Still.
[Kora] (gah, sorry! I missed Linus' disappearance, and my screen stopped refreshing.)
[Rain McKellar] Rain was going to tell Sofie she wasn't hungry, that the soup she'd had at the Brotherhood had filled her up -- and mostly it had -- but the other kinswoman is slicing away already and Rain knows that you don't say no to a Fenrir with a great big knife.
No, Ma'am.
It'd be like telling Drew you didn't want seconds. Pointless. Utterly so.
"Mr. Jackson might want some. I'll share mine, if he does," she offers instead, knowing there was no way she could tackle the portion on her own. Oh yes, she as dragging him right back into this mess from the periphery.
And then, since the Godi had left and the room had still for a moment, she asked, "You all heard about Mr. Howard?" A beat. And if they hadn't, she'd explain a bit further. "Mr. Hunter was askin' Doctor Slaughter about some raised Spirals and strange rites earlier today."
Ah, yes, wonderful dinner talk. This was how it went in the packhouse. She's almost grateful when Drew's voice breaks in. Rain's smile will break away from tense and uneasy for her, for a moment, before it fades.
[Roman Turner] It just wasn't in his nature to chew out anyone for not reporting in or whatever, especially considering he was a nobody himself and no one reported in to him. For a moment he watched Jackson and Rain, then the sound of the door had his attention. Bad guys didn't knock. So he called out.
"In the Kitchen!"
[Izzy Montoya] He should talk to Izzy - who shakes herself from looking at the place Linus disappeared from - some things you never get used too. She arches a brow, slightly, and turns to give Jackson a long look over. There's a huff of amusement. "With names and places changed to protect the guilty, of course."
The innocents, she must mean. Or not. Never can tell with Izzy.
[Sofie Janssen] A glance is thrown over to Jackson. The look is similar to the way Kora's sharpness is, without the Rage. More to do with eyes and features then the potential of getting big and furry. "You want some?" There's slices of meat piling up, and still a quarter of the roast left. The pack has made a big dent in what it had started as. Some bread is sliced next, just a few.
Sofie doesn't know who Howard is. But she silences up, just getting some food ready for folks that want to eat it, as the others talk. It sounds serious. Rites and Spirals. It can't be good. She's half turned to keep an eye on the doorway with more people arriving.
[Jackson Montgomery] He smiles a little at Rain, chuckling. "I'm fine, honestly. Only if you're not hungry. I don't want to pull from anyone's share or anything when I'm perfectly able to get my own food later." He gives both her and Sofia appreciative smiles though.
His attention draws over ti Izzy and he grins. "Of course. I don't think I'm going to be producing any action blockbusters anytime soon, but if I do, I know who to come to for a technical consultant."
When Rain mentions Spirals his head turns her way, getting quiet. He's not the kind of insane kin to want to go getting involved in the hunt for the damned things, but he knows that it's serious business and not only should he shut up to let business be discussed, it's good to listen and be forewarned.
[Remy] Remy grabs the door from Drew, hauling it wider for his frame with considerable ease. Inside, temperatures are marginally higher. He pushes his hood down and tips his head back, looking at the distant arched ceiling, the span of the nave. The Get of Fenris rarely think well of White Christ, but Remy was an exception there, too. Churches feel familiar to him. Contemplative and peaceful. He has faint, dreamlike memories of candles flickering at the feet of saints, prayers offered up like smoke.
"This is Kora's packhouse, isn't it?" There's a faint echo through the walls, the halls. His voice is instinctively quiet. "Why're we coming here again?"
Someone calls out to them: in the kitchen! Remy lags a few steps behind Drew, not quite hurrying to follow the call just yet.
[Kora] "I heard the howl," Kora returns to Rain - a flashing look back to the kinswoman, brief but direct and sure as always. "His packmate paid chiminage for them both, in order to bury him among the graves." She says this quietly too; the vibrance an undercurrent to her quiet voice. While Sofie slices meat, Kora steals another pair of slices, takes them with her fingers. Peels away a mouthful of eats it at a go.
She's half-leaning back against the chipped formica countertop, yellow metal cabinets behind her. The place feels warm and alive only because there are so many people here, so many interweaving voices. Jackson goes quiet here, but Kora's dark eyes are drawn back to him. She's quiet, a moment - studying. Then, "There's a Hive to the north," Kora says, low-voiced. Loud enough to be heard around the kitchen, but clearly addressing the young film student. "In a suburb 40 miles or so away, called Elk Grove. It's off limits. We get incursions in the city regularly." A brief glance at Rain, then back to Jackson. " - so it's good to be wary."
[Rain McKellar] I'll share, she'd said. The little glint of gold around her neck said Gaian, but Rain had been all but raised into her place in the Nation by a Gnawer. It was something Roman and the rest of her Tribe struggled with, on a daily basis, and even though they were making headway with the young Unicorn, it didn't stop her from taking things like I'm fine, honestly a bit like a challenge.
Or a rebuff.
"I don't mind," she tells him, honeyed-drawl and all, as she picks up a second set of utensils as if she'd not really heard him. After all, Last Watch had taken in quite personally when another of their Tribe had refused hospitality. Maybe Rain was just tryin' to help. "I'm gonna get mustard, though; chef's recommendation. What do you want with your half?" she asks Jackson.
Focusing on this made it easier to handle the Rage in the hallway, that felt like an Ahroun trying to cram his presence into their kitchen doorway. Between that and Kora, her chest felt tight again. She brings her plate to where Jackson is standing, and offers him his weapons (cutlery), but there's a tension to her jaw now. An uneasiness that will make it difficult for her to eat her share.
[Izzy Montoya] She smirks, slightly, then tips her beer up for a long couple of swallows. It should be noted she didn't agree to become a technical consultant for anything. She didn't say no either, but she certainly didn't agree.
Then she puts together the bits about Howard. She looks to Rain, then Kora, and her mouth tightens briefly. She doesn't say anything, though, in the end, keeping her opinion to herself.
[Drew Roscoe] "Because," Drew starts, her tone matter of fact but light enough anyways. Roman calls out that they're in the kitchen, and Drew wonders for a moment who wouldn't have figured that in the first place. Their chatter is enough to be soft and constant, like the sound of many people gathered around food should be. The smell of recently cooked food was strong enough to clue in here as well. But she just slips her hands into her coat pockets and glances briefly over her shoulder, to Remy, who lagged behind and let his eyes take in all the faded religious symbols that the sanctuary had to offer.
"It's good to check in. To see if anything's needed of me. Who's new, who's dead... There's always news, and if I'm not proactive about keeping in touch then I'm afraid I'll fall away."
It was bald honesty, the kind that catches you by surprise sometimes. People don't admit fears so openly, not unless they're fishing for someone to do something for them, or some light-headed girl trying to charm a strapping young man into stepping up and being masculine enough to protect them from their fears. This wasn't like that, though. The moment passed quick enough as she stopped near the open doorway into the large kitchen, filled with warm bodies and the warmer smell of meat. There were two new faces she picked out immediately, but she addressed Kora first, because this was her place.
"Kora, nice to see ya." It is, of course, after the talk of the Hive and Elk Grove passes. "Everyone," to everyone else.
[Jackson Montgomery] He smiles a little bit to Rain, nodding with a little concession when she's not giving up. He passed once, she pressed, and he's got enough propriety to know you don't say no twice. "Mustard works."
He looks at Kora when she talks about the Hive, all levity vanishing from his face. He's clearly taking it seriously as he takes in the offered information, and nods. "Of course. I grew up in Los Angeles...we knew all about being wary when we were out. I'll be sure to stay the hell away from there, and to keep an eye out. Thanks."
He looks over at Drew she walks in, another new face to him. He smiles a bit to her in greeting. "Hi."
[Roman Turner] He'd moved a little closer to his own Kin, maybe hoping to be a buffer despite moving his own small rage closer to the pair. He'd called out to let the new arrivals know where to find them because it was the polite thing to do when someone came to calling, rather than leaving them roaming alone in your home. So when Drew entered his attention was firmly on the door and a small salute was given to her.
"Long time, no see Miss Drew. Last time ya came to call ya had trouble on your heels."
[Remy] If I'm not proactive, says the recent widow who looked about fifty years too young to bear such a title, I'm afraid I'll fall away.
That sort of bald honesty -- somewhere between defiance and poignancy -- surprises Remy's eyebrows a notch up his forehead. Then the corner of his mouth moves, a lopsided little offering of a smile, but by then she's turning to head into the kitchen.
For his part, the Godi lingers outside for a while, looking at the statues and the stained glass. Looking for a name or two, specifically -- but then the scent of food pulls him away, wandering through the doors into the kitchen. By then he's unsnapped and unzipped his jacket, the sides of which are swept back by his elbows -- hands in his back pockets. He looks around at the gathered, then nods at them.
"Hey," he says. He fills the doorway: solid, so thick across the shoulders and the chest that he looks less than his six-feet-nothing of height. "I'm Rémy."
[Sofie Janssen] Food distributed and folks helping themselves, Sofie moves out the way again, across the kitchen to where there's some breathing room and her rucksack tucked by the counter. Her soda is half way gone and it's warmer now then when it was first opened. She picks it up and turns back to watch Drew and Remy give hellos.
"Hey." She greets along with the chorus of others. Her gaze tracks. Pretty girls everywhere. Pretty men too. They don't make Fenrir like that back home. Pale blues watch, sharper.
[Rain McKellar] By the time Roman moved over to help shield them from the incoming Rage, Rain had pretty much lost her appetite. She took a few bites, and assured Sofie that it was really good, but the plate found it's way to Jackson's keeping, or Roman's, or the counter's long before Rain finished her part. And the songbird, fragile as she wasn't, positioned herself as close to the familiar Ragabash as was reasonable.
"Miss Drew, Mr. Jackson," she manages, introducing the two with a tip of her head, whenever conversation allowed. She's watchful of Remy. More than. Wary.
[Roman Turner] He wasn't a tall guy, though fortunately at his age he had years yet of growing space. Still right then as he stood next to Rain they were shoulder to shoulder in height. Also, his rage was such a small thing that compared to most, he was a lot less to pay attention to. Remy entered behind Drew and said his name, so being the polite person Roman gave a little wave saying.
"Howdy Remy. I'm Roman."
[Drew Roscoe] Roman gets a chuckle and an answering touch of a salute, a tap of fingers to her forehead that fly away lazily, and Drew shrugged her way out of her coat, leaving her in that clingy powder blue sweater top. She folded the jacket over her arms and held it near her stomach. "No blood trail for that brand of trouble to follow tonight."
Jackson and Sofie are both greeted with a flash of a smile that is small but easy. Without effort it draws in trust and affection. She's used this appeal to charm tips out of customers and her way into decent paying jobs on only the first interview. The only unfortunate thing was it didn't typically work in life-or-death situations. That's what the gun in her truck was for. Her fingers wiggle loosely in a wave to the pair, and then Remy's slipping in behind her, following his nose more than anything else into the kitchen.
He introduces himself so she doesn't have to. She instead steps to the side, just enough to let Remy through so she's not blocking the doorway any longer, but lingers nearby it rather than making herself at home in the kitchen right off the bat.
[Jackson Montgomery] He smiles and nods once more to Drew, then looks over at Remy. He's staying close to Rain's side at the moment, and her wary look toward Remy earns the Get a look, before he looks back to his fellow kin.
[Kora] "Drew," says Kora. It's easy to great her first. She's standing now, leaning back against the counter close to the half-eaten roast cooling beneath its tent of foil, with a plateful of slices and the glisten of fat on the tips of her long fingers. Rémy comes in after, and then Kora straightens, standing up, no longer leaning back, backside resting against the counter. The room's warm, full of people. It's large too, an old church kitchen, the walls flanked with metal cabinets, illuminated by lanterns, the odd lamp.
There's an antique fridge, but no hum to say it's working. Just a bunch of coolers and other make-shift means of heating the shared space and cooling the shared food.
"Rémy." Roman introduces himself, and Kora inserts, after, "Roman's my packmate. Jackson and Rain," she indicates each with a brief nod of her pale head, the thick coil of her long hair pulling against her hood with the movement. " - are his kin. Sofie," another nod, " and Detective Montoya," again, they are marked out, clear and direct with brief tips of her head. " - are ours. There's meat and bread if you want it. Beer if you'd rather. Chocolate milk's mine, though."
A moment, an afterthought, her generous mouth curving into a subtle half-smile. "And the plum sauce." A mental nudge at poor Linus, wherever he was.
[Izzy Montoya] As she's pointed out, there's a moment of something - appreciative even - that goes through her gaze at Kora's choice of introduction. It passes through her eyes, then away again when she turns toward Remy and lifts her beer in hello, before allowing it to travel the rest of the way to her lips for another swallow.
She's been quiet - but not inattentive. Watching. Waiting - though for what is still in question. She's as comfortable as she is willing to get, and remains leaning back against the counter, watching.
[Rain McKellar] Jackson's looking to her for some sort of cue, but really all there is to pick up on is how profoundly ill at ease Rage makes the smaller Gaian. That there's something about the confluence of all these temperments together that makes her spine stretch and her jaw tighten. And it's worse, today, than it's been in a long time. She'd been softening, growing a bit less wary since she met up with Last Watch. But the kin is all but hiding behind Roman and Jackson tonight, if she could use them to physically distance herself from the rest of the room she would. And she bristled at Kora catching her eye -- which hasn't happened in weeks.
Introductions go around again, and Rain doesn't pipe up to offer her name to the new True.
When the girl does open her mouth, it's to say: "I'm gonna go put my guitar away." And that's quiet enough that Roman and Jackson will hear it, possibly Kora if she's near enough by. Then Rain will muster up the courage to politely slip past whoever's in the doorway and back out into the Sanctuary where there was a little more room to breathe.
[Remy] The two kin of Unicorn are both eyeing him with varying levels of distrust and discomfort. Remy eyeballs them right back, then snags up a bottle of beer and twists the top off.
"I can tell which kin are ours," he says, and shows sharp white teeth with a sharp half-smile. "They aren't flinching." And he nods to the two of them, "Sofie. Montoya." Then the rest of them, "Rest of ya."
He's easy with the American slang, easy with american contractions and slurs on the words. Despite that, there's a hint of muddy, blurry accent in his words -- and his pronunciation of Remy was perfect, very french. He leans his brawny body against the wall and takes a swig of beer, then nudges Drew with the side of his foot.
"Drew brought me here," he says. "She wanted to know if there was anything she could be doing to help."
[Jackson Montgomery] Jackson himself is far from comfortable with the level of Rage in the room; being away from Sept life for a little while has meant that at best he had his father and siblings do deal with, and they were busy enough that he never had to deal with them all in one group. Still, he has no problem with Rain being behind him, despite the fact that she could probably fight better than he. It's a guy thing.
Remy's snark causes his jaw to set subtly, but that's the strongest reaction he gives. He just crosses his arms, leaning back and slipping into observer mode once more.
[Sofie Janssen] Since it seems they are all about to hang about, except for Rain who is ducking out to her guitar, Sofie leaves her rucksack where it is, on the floor by a counter and out of the way, and moves across to grab one of those few chairs that aren't taken. Screw standing anymore.
Setting her soda on the table, she had chuckled low in her throat at Remy's remark, and shed her jacket. Its left over the back of the chair before she sits. A pair of fade wash jeans, a simple blue sweater, and a pair of hiking boots makes for a very casual, low key affair. Her scarf is tossed over the chair with her jacket. The knit cap is safely stowed into the jacket pocket.
She sits and stretches out her legs, crossing them at her ankles and settles in to listen to the Garou talk before she's going to say anything herself. But that will come.
[Roman Turner] Well the mention of ours told him exactly what Tribe Remy belonged to. He like Sofie, made himself comfortable, pulling up to sit on the counter.
"There's flinching and then there's survival instinct. Sometimes it's a bit hard to tell the difference, especially if you through in a dose of common sense."
[Jackson Montgomery] "Well put," he says to Roman as he leans back against something to eat the plate that Rain passed off to him.
[Kora] Kora straightens enough to allow Rain to slip past her; cuts a look in her wake until she disappears in the shadows of the dark hall. The sanctuary will be a relief, sharp and clear, cold. Despite Linus' tarps, there are places where icicles hang from the spine of the roof like stalactites. Places where the moon shines through the windows, glinting on the shards of broken stained glass.
"You're welcome," says Kora, pronouncing it well-come if only by the subtle shift of internal stress. She's precise with it; her accent broadly American - suburban rather than regional, muddied from a life on the move (or the run). "Anytime." This is for Rémy, clear from the directness of her dark blue eyes.
Then her expression changes, her generous mouth twists easily and her pale brows rise in subtle question as her attention cuts from the Godi to the kinswoman. "Did she?" Kora asks, attention settled on Drew in that moment. It's not snark, this. There's a sort of challenge there, embedded under the skin of that look. "Did you find a place, yet?"
[Roman Turner] ((Even if I put in Through instead of Throw! Gah))
to Drew Roscoe, Izzy Montoya, Jackson Montgomery, Kora, nemean, Rain McKellar, Remy, Sofie Janssen, sunglasses
[Kora] Totemphone: Something's up with Rain. Kora says, clear in the back of his mind. A subtle nudge there, too. It's not just the Godi. Go see to your kin, Roman.
to Roman Turner
[Sofie Janssen] "Hey, Roman," Sofie perks from where she is. Before the words are even out, the thought along has her mouth curving and her teeth flashing in a fierce grin at him. "You know all this shindig is missing, is some two step? You know, how you were showing me earlier?"
[Rain McKellar] In the sanctuary, Rain dropped into the pew beside her guitar and leaned against the hard, straight back. She could hear the echo of their voices out here, but it was easier to ascribe to just background noise. She didn't listen too closely for another jab from Remy, or her own Tribe defending her.
This space is cold after the press of bodies and voices in the tighter confines of the kitchen. It's cold and filled with moonlight and dream-like icicles hanging from the ceiling. There is no idol of any Faith of man, but rather Luna's touch painting everything gently argent.
She'll stay there, for a moment. Longer. Long enough for the quiet to and cold to seep into her finger bones. Maybe longer than she meant to. And then she'll go and put her guitar and coat away, like she'd told the others, and contemplate her potential (but unlikely) return to the kitchen.
[Remy] Remy, like so many bullied kids -- and you can bet your ass he was bullied by the other Fenrir, what with a name like that and a face that pretty -- seems to instantly and naturally gravitate toward bullying in his own right once the pressure's taken off. He smirks at Roman, then knocks back his beer again.
"Spoken like a true Coggie," he says. "All praise-of-mediocrity."
[Roman Turner] He cast a grin Sofie's way as he slid back down from the counter, brushing crumbs off his backside.
"I'd be honored Miss Sofie, though if you would excuse me for a moment, I'm gonna see what's eating at Miss Rain."
God he hoped it wasn't that time of month or something equally horrifying. What if she was having female problems? It was with the mental nudge from Kora that he headed out of the kitchen to drop down in the pew next to Rain.
"Spill it. What's stuck in your craw?"
[Remy] [ack! what the hell! it wasn't refreshing *catches up*]
[Drew Roscoe] Remy nudges at her foot with the side of his own, and she just huffs softly at the gesture, but the smile that she'd greeted people with doesn't leave her completely. There was something companionable with Remy, relaxed and faint... but the stress is on the word relaxed. She didn't really seem to notice or care about the good looks. Anyone who saw the face of her mate would know that they weren't the most important thing for her, after all.
The nudge and mention has Kora's attention, and she's addressing Drew with something close to a challenge in her eyes. Drew looks slightly surprised by the expression, but recalls quickly enough the moon outside. She'd gotten into the habit of keeping track of the moon phases so she knew when to tread lightly and who to do so about.
"I did." There's a pause, eyes going distant for half a second while she remembers where the lake is in accordance to where she stands and figures out her directions from there. That moment passes and she's gesturing somewhere to her right, vaguely, to indicate distance. "A few blocks out of the neighborhood, but close enough that it's not much of a drive to reach you guys here. The landlord's a poker buddy of my good friend Ted Rhodes. I think I can trust him."
[Izzy Montoya] Remy's comments get her attention, and a long unreadable gaze from the Detective. after a moment, or two, she turns and makes sure the counter behind her is clear, before sliding up to sit on it, her feet thumping against the cupboard underneath her lightly.
[Jackson Montgomery] And just like that, he's the lone Child of Gaia in the room. He watches Roman head off and then falls quiet again, his attention devoted tracking the conversation between the others and not thinking about the last time he was purely surrounded by members of the Garou Nation that were of his tribe.
[Rain McKellar] She eyed the Ragabash beside her, pulling her attention down from the roofline only after he'd settled as a warm and weighty presence on the pew beside her. Rain's jaw tightens, a little, and then recants.
"Howard died," she tells him. It's such an empty sound. There's no resonance at all to it. It's like she's too tired to even sound sad, just now, but Roman has to know she felt it. Maybe it's a day long of feeling that, and going to work anyway, and trying to open up to new people that's burned her out just now.
"He's just... gone. Like Ennar. Just gone."
She breathes out and pushes her back further against the pew, pulls her coat into her lap and wraps her arms around it.
"And I ran into Hunter." Hunter, whose Rage exceeded her capacity to cope on a good day. "It just --" she frowns. "He's more than I can take on a good, and today weren't a good one, Roman. Nothin' happened, and I don't blame him for being angry. But it's like an itch, y'know? I can't help bein' uneasy just now and it's nobody's fault."
[Sofie Janssen] She snickers quietly at Roman and watches him leave the room, drinking down soda that sits uncomfortable in her stomach.
While Remy may be making the room tense, Sofie brushes that off for the most part. Fenrir kin, generally, are used to ball busters in one way or the other, and navigate around it. At least they should be able to when they have high breeding.
She watches Jackson, another new face in the place, be left alone. "Hey," she calls to him, "you want to take a seat?" It's an offer not to be an immediate target from the Get of Fenris. Not that Sofie looks like all warmth either. But she got him food earlier. She can't be all that bad.
[Jackson Montgomery] "Hmm?" His attention is directed over to Sofie. "Oh...yeah, thanks." He nods and moves to sit down, giving her an appreciative smile.
[Roman Turner] "I'm sorry Rain. I never got to meet Howard, he never came to the Caern, never made himself known. But I understand ya felt like he was a friend, and I grieve for your loss. As for Hunter, ain't heard of him either, what Tribe is that one? Ya need me to talk to him for ya?"
He slipped an arm around her shoulders and gently rubbed her far shoulder with his hand.
"Ain't nothing I can say that will ease the pain of sudden loss, unfortunately death is just part of life. We borrow these moments and eventually have to give them back to move on. Howard's moved on to the next great adventure, be glad he's had the chance to break the way ahead. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't want folk crying over him."
[Sofie Janssen] "So what were you saying before?" After Jackson has sat down, she gives him her attention. Sometimes her gaze strays to Kora and Remy, but only in quick flicks. "You're studying at University was it?" She had only been paying part attention. "I never went to college. What's it like? Are you part of a Fraternity? I was talking to Roman earlier, and he was saying something about the Brotherhood, have you heard of it? Sounds like a Fraternity to me."
Pause.
"Not that I'd know."
[Kora] There's a subtle look up at Rémy's remark about Coggies; just a glance, without comment. The look is level, brief and sure; she's holding the plate full of meat just at mid-chest level, but not eating now. And as the Godi drinks his beer, Kora leans back once more against the countertop, bracing herself, feet in front of her, the pose casual and comfortable.
"The Doc brought me some information on that rental company that owned the place you were looking at when you were attacked. Maps of their other properties and the like. We discovered a nest of cursed humans in one of them last year." A spare, subtle flicker across her mouth. Not a smile. "Can't be a coincidence."
There's the news Drew came looking for, quietly offered as Kora snares and devours a strip of meat, licking the juices from her lips, after. It's cold now, the roast, but it does not seem to bother the Skald. "What help did you mean to offer?"
[Rain McKellar] "Nah," she says, about talking to Hunter. She leans her shoulder into him a bit and lets a little more of the tension slake from her small frame as she listens to the Ragabash talk. It's comforting. It makes her smile, faintly.
"I know," she tells him. Low and somewhat wearily. "I know, and it's not the first person I've lost. And it won't be the last. It just... doesn't stop it from hurting when it happens. And it shouldn't, stop that is. Someone's gotta ache. It's part of bein' remembered.
"Speakin' of remembered," she says, turning to glance over at him a bit. "He was a bit of a jerk, you know, but he was nicer t' me than almost any of Stag's I've met. I'm gonna to go to the wake at Quinn's place. But you're right, 'snothing to worry over for too long." She offers her a steadier smile. It tells him she'll be fine, even though she's got a ways to go on that yet.
[Jackson Montgomery] "Film school, yes." He smiles. "I'm not part of a fraternity or anything, no. Flashpoint doesn't have, as they like to call the fraternities, a Greek system." He takes a breath and shrugs. "It's great. I mean, I'm studying something that I love, and I'm becoming better at what I do best. What more can you ask for out of life, you know?"
[Sofie Janssen] "Oh. Film school." That knocks her enthusiasm back a little. She regards Jackson sitting by her, a little longer and harder. "What, you learn about movies? How to make them? Or?"
"Do you do documentaries? Like environmental issues and all that? I really hope you're not into that whole Hollywood mainstream shit." Because Sofie is trying to figure out how film school is helping the Garou save Gaia and all that. Not that it's really any of her business. She's just got an open opinion.
[Drew Roscoe] "Nah... Coincidences like that don't tend to happen. Not when we'd benefit from it anyways."
With that said, Drew's rubbing her fingers under her eyes, scrubbing at the lower eyelid until she feels like whatever was bothering her was sufficiently rubbed away. Then she's back to holding the coat. She relaxes a little more as others seem to do so as well-- Remy with his beer, Kora against the counter, Izzy sitting on the other counter, Sofie and Jackson at the table... Roman and Rain went out into the sanctuary and Drew made no move to stop them or pay too much attention to Rain's half-hearted attempt to give a reason to cover up why she was leaving the room.
It wasn't her place to pry into Rain's motives or emotions, and to try would be pushy and assumptive anyways. Rather, she stays in the kitchen and speaks with Kora.
"Monetary. And room and board overflow if necessary, but not permanently. A wolf called Fire Claws shared my space the night before. Helped me remember that I'm here to help, not to hide out." She shrugs casually and glances briefly past Kora, toward the other three Kin in the room like she was having a moment of self-consciousness, but blotted that out quickly enough and was speaking again. "I make more than enough money for just myself. The rest is accumulating pretty quickly. So... food, clothes, raw materials... Whatever you guys need just give me a heads up."
[Roman Turner] "No, when someone ya care about is no longer there, it leaves an empty spot."
He wasn't sure just how involved Rain was with Howard but to feel so much loss and grief, it had to be a lot more than the relationship he had with Rain. This all flickered through his mind as he offered what comfort he could on the matter.
"And there are times ya just want pick up the phone and call the person to share something in your day with them, that's when it hits ya that ya can't. Eventually over time, folk forget the irritating parts of others once they are gone, and only remember the good. This might happen with you and time does help a body deal with grief a little easier. It doesn't make it go away and sometimes it blind sides ya, but it does help ease the sharp stab some."
He patted her shoulder again.
"I'm sorry ya lost your fella Miss Rain."
[Izzy Montoya] Her gaze flicks to Drew and Kora, to Remy who's taken a breath between his bullying, to Jackson and Sophie as they talk film school. She keeps track of the multiple conversations, yet joins none of them at the moment.
It's somewhat odd, to not see her mouthing off. But then again, perhaps it's not so unusual after all, once someone gets to know her.
She is tired, though - exhausted by the tole her job takes on her, by the fact that her chosen partner is gone incommunicado and no one can tell her if he is allright, or if he is dead. It shows in the bags under her eyes, and perhaps even in the very fact that she is quietly observing, rather than actively taking part.
[Jackson Montgomery] "I have done a documentary, yes. That's one of the things I'm looking to do." He's used to being grilled about the uselessness of his chosen profession, and even with Sofie taking it in a more curious way, he's seen the signs and has his response. "There are a lot of great grassroots causes that the public could find out about, that would make them more sympathetic toward doing the right thing. I did a short piece on bottled water and how it really wasn't doing anyone any good because of the level of toxins put into the water. People think about that, they're less likely to buy it. Which makes them more reliant on tap water, which in turn makes them more likely to treat water sources well. Not to mention that the big corporation selling the bottled water loses support and sales."
He smiles. Obviously, he hasn't reached many people with this little documentary, but it's the point that matters. "And outside of documentaries, regular feature films can help too. In ways you wouldn't think."
[Rain McKellar] "Wait...what?"
Roman patted her shoulder and said something about... No. No that made little sense at all. And Rain, who was not possessed of Rage, proved that kin have no less changeable moods when she twisted on the pew to pointedly ask him a question.
"My fella?" And that, Roman, is something akin to indignation. "You have got to stop that. First Milo. Then Howard?" Roman had too much between his ears to think that just because she was sad when someone died they'd been involved. Or he was testing her.
Oh, he's a... no moon. A Ragabash. Rain reaches up to scrub the heel of her palm against her hairline. "Damnit, Roman," she muttered as she realized she'd likely fallen into a no-moon trap.
[Sofie Janssen] As Jackson talks, her face brightens a little. She's not closed minded by any means. "Oh yeah? Bottled water. You got a point there. All the plastic, that's the problem. But you probably know more about that than I do."
She takes a moment to drink down some of her soda, having to tilt her head back since she's getting towards the end of it. Then sets it down on the table in front of her, turning it with idle fingers, as she looks back at him. "I suppose I see it. It's kinda like telling a story, right? Lots of money for those movies. Lots of ruining some places to create sets, or tromping into wilderness with big crews. But I get it. Morals through stories, right?"
[Roman Turner] "I ain't the one grieving over some fella, you are. In order to feel this much loss, this much depression, ya have to have had more than a passing friendliness with the fella. I mean, I might be regretful if say, Sofie died. I'd be angered, I'd feel sorrow, but I barely know her. It would not be the same at this point in our knowing each other, to cause me undue stress like losing someone like say, Miss Doctor Slaughter would. Why? Because I have known Miss Doctor Slaughter longer. I have known her deeper. I have shared near death experiances with her. Shared food, laughter and grief with her. Yet still if I have to catalog my grief level, I would not grieve as great for her loss as I would for say my folks. Ya see? Each thing in our lives bear a certain level of closeness and loss. If ya grieving his much over Howard, I have to assume there was more than a passing how do you do with him."
[Kora] "Trent and Rain and - " a subtle lift of her place, she moves it the way she would a beer bottle if she were offering a toast. " - now Sofie keep us pretty well supplied, but the boys are always hungry. That said, Linus and Roman have a few projects around here, yeah? Li's been trying to patch the roof over, and Roman's been repairing another bathroom. You might talk to them, see if you can give them a hand."
A pause, a brief quirk of her curving mouth. " - or at least, a ride to Home Depot."
[Jackson Montgomery] He nods. "And that's why you stay out of the studio system as much as possible. Try to finance your films independently if you can, use green methods to make it. Once you've made it and it's good, THEN you take it to festivals--Sundance, Cannes, Tribeca or one of the many, many other ones, and you sell it to a studio for distribution." A beat. "And you fight like hell to keep final cut. If you can do that, well..."
He smiles a little. He's in his element right now. He's argued this so many times, but he never lost the passion for his argument. "Whether people believe it or not, films have power. I guarantee that a lot less people who saw Bambi as a kid hunt. There's a reason for that...emotional resonance. And if it can be applied in the right way, minds can be changed. You know?"
[Remy] Remy's eyebrows flicked upward when it's mentioned that Howard -- the little leprechaun comes to mind -- died. Then condolences are being expressed, and grief, and other pretty sentiments.
Remy keeps his mouth shut. He was taught not to speak ill of the dead; his face says plenty, though. Most of it along the likes of dislike and distrust and, god help him: good riddance.
He slugs down the last of his beer and rockets the empty bottle into a trash can. Then he straightens up.
"What happened to his packmate?" The conversation's moved on considerably by then; stubbornly, Remy pulls it back. "The pipsqueak's. Patrick."
[Sofie Janssen] "Yeah, I do." Sofie nods. She may not be well educated, but it doesn't make her stupid, and she's the sort of curious type that will wrap her hands around knowledge given to her. Being in the city has her exposed to a great deal more things outside of home town and a Sept orientated lifestyle. "A story, especially a good story has a way of sticking."
"And like you said, resonating." That's a good word, that.
[Rain McKellar] "Y' ever stop to think for a minute that maybe I feel differently 'cause I'm me and not you?" her tone's a little sharper than she means tonight. She schools it back toward something more neutral where she can. "I don't have someone like that, what you're implyin' all the time. Maybe I will in time, but I just care about people.
"I didn't grow up in all this. It's been some years, sure, but it's still raw some times. For what it's worth," she tells him, pushing herself up off the bench and starting to gather up her things. "I'd be a lot more upset if it were you. Or Miss Kora. Or even Linus." The Godi gets no honorific just now. Instead Rain picks up her guitar with a bit of a jerk, and takes a step away.
Before she remembers herself. And stops. Roman hadn't dismissed her or said that she could go. When she's upset, she falls back on those older, ingrained expectations.
[Drew Roscoe] There's news of a death floating about, and Drew had been doing her fair best not to pay too much attention to it. She recognized the name more when Remy mentioned the packmate than standing on its own. He was the curly-haired guy that had tried to help serenade her in that bar, but only managed to sour her mood further. The one that had appeared with the Ahroun at the door of the church to make noise and a fool of himself and his... not packmate? Friend? She didn't know. She wouldn't know. She didn't know him well enough to spare grief.
Acknowledgment, that was more the word for what she was hearing here.
Kora spoke of Home Depot projects and Drew grinned brightly and leaned back into the doorframe she stood before. "My dad's a carpenter. He taught me a thing or two, I could probably find some spare time on my off days to come by and help out."
And so she, after a moment of thought, goes to fetch herself a beer, letting Remy and Kora talk about this Patrick guy, the one she hardly remembered because she'd met him once before, only once, and that was when she was a few beers under.
[Jackson Montgomery] "Exactly." He relaxes a little more, nodding. "We have to hit 'em on all fronts. Just because they've got the power of big business behind them doesn't mean we can't fight back in the hearts and minds department."
[Roman Turner] "Apparently ya do feel different than I do. I'm not discounting your loss Miss Rain, I'm just trying to put this is perspective. Ya tell me ya grieving, then ya tell me he weren't all so nice to ya sometimes. Yet I see a level of grief I just guess I ain't smart enough, caring enough to understand."
He rose shaking his head, dragging a hand back through his hair. Maybe she needed chocolate or one of the those Midal pills? All he knew for sure was he would never understand women if he lived to be a thousand and this was one of those moments when it was best to cut his losses and get the hell out of ground zero.
"I'm sorry for your loss."
Mumbled before he walked stiff backed for the kitchen.
[Rain McKellar] Roman keeps trying to make sense of Rain, which is likely a fool's errand. So he goes off, stiff backed, and she lugs her guitar off to slide it under her bunk and neither of them have really resolved anything. And while she's brought someone to the pack and introduced them, Rain will prove a horrible host tonight when she stays in that backroom and focuses on something in a notebook rather than rejoining the Fenrir social hour in the kitchen.
[Thanks, everyone, for the scene! Sorry my kin's in a grouchy mood!]
[Remy] "Hey." Of the few positive things one might say about Remy -- pretty being the chief one -- 'patient' was not amongst the list. "You guys all deaf? I asked what happened to pipsqueak's packmates."
[Kora] Rémy holds his tongue, but doesn't school his expression. Kora's dark eyes sharpen in his direction; glinting in the stark light shed by the lanterns in the room. There are windows here, all boarded over with several layers of plywood for insulation. The only sense of moving air comes from the hallway.
Drew finds three or four local microbrews to chose from. Nevermind that the pack lives a squatter's life in an abadoned church. That Kora, pregnant, is not drinking beer now, despite her mate's assurance that a drink or two wouldn't hurt anything: she still buys good stuff.
Pipsqueak, then, Rémy calls the dead man. Kora's expression darkens, the frisson of irritation asserts itself in her brow, in the spark of light from her dark eyes. She swallows it back a moment later - but that energy lingers in her voice, intent.
"He paid chiminage to Maelstrom to bury his packmate. Burnout and Killswitch came with him to bring body to the Caern, and the Bone-Grinder offered him a place with his pack."
[Sofie Janssen] "Alright." Her teeth flash in a grin at Jackson. "You won me over. I won't belittle your movie making career choices." The young woman is joking with him. Pale eyes, blue, are also bright behind the sharpness. The pupil of them is as black as the jacket hanging over the chair behind her; a stark contrast.
"Maybe you could meet with some friends of mine," she says, open with her thoughts. "They do a few things, you know, uh.. . like there's some protests for whaling. Obviously not here. But, you get my idea. They could feed you some info and visa verse."
[Roman Turner] When he passed back in to the kitchen he went straight for the cooler and a beer. Never needing a drink more in his life. The look he passed to Kora was accompanied by thoughts only he, Kora and Linus could share at this time.
~I don't know what to do with her, maybe she needs to talk to another woman?~
What did he know about women anyway? He was freaking sixteen and three quarters. He'd never even had a date, much less a girlfriend. He'd not spent time wooing, sucking face or learning to understand women. Beer, beer he understood. So he turned his attention to seeing just how much he could drink as fast as he could.
[Izzy Montoya] Roman heads toward the cooler, just as Izzy finishes her beer.
She idly comments as he digs for his... "Toss me one, will ya, Roman?"
[Sofie Janssen] Remy mouths off, and Sofie glances over. Her gaze shifts from him to Kora, Roman as he passes, then back to Remy. She doesn't say a word on the topic. She doesn't know. It's not her place.
[Jackson Montgomery] "Yeah, absolutely." He nods at Sofie's suggestion. "Definitely. I mean, I'm not making anything major yet...still in school, but..." He drives off when Remy gets everyone's attention, glancing his way, but since he has no clue he looks back over to Roman when he walks in. His brow furrows and he rises. "Excuse me, Sofie..." He heads to Roman.
[Roman Turner] "Yessum."
He turned to fish another beer out, handing it to Izzy before he sat next to her and cracked his open. The beer was tilted back after he touched his bottle to Izzy's.
"Here's to oblivion."
Jackson came his way and he was polite enough to offer his beer to the man.
"Thirsty?"
[Remy] Seconds after Remy barks for an answer, Kora supplies one. The Godi, who's leaned against the wall this whole time steadily chugging down a beer, snaps his dark-eyed attention around. Listens. Makes a low grunting noise of acknowledgment.
"At least somebody learned something from the whole charade." A pause, as he's straightening up. Maybe to go. "Can I ask something, Rhya?" Not much of a pause. "You didn't like me calling him a pipsqueak, and you didn't like me telling what I thought about him with my face. That's cool. You don't have to agree with me.
"But why didn't you say something about it?"
[Jackson Montgomery] "Yeah, sure actually." He nods. "But more to the point...is she okay?" He jerks his thumb toward where Roman came from.
[Drew Roscoe] Drew snaps open the lid of her beer bottle, selecting something darker out of the cooler than the other options, and rolls the lid in between her fingers tucked under the jacket she was still carrying around-- her visit must not have been intended to be too long if she was only having one beer and had yet to sit down or put her coat anywhere. She took a deep drink of the stuff from her bottle, glanced briefly to Izzy, then back to Roman, and clucked her tongue against the back of her teeth. "You'll probably want to slow down and let your stomach keep up with you."
The advice is soft and friendly. A warning that he'll make himself sick rather than a scolding that he was too young to be getting drunk. She's taking another drink and walking back over nearer to Remy, hovering and listening in on the conversation while nursing her dark microbrew and keeping close to the doorway between sanctuary and kitchen. Her body language suggested that she wanted to leave soon. It's difficult to describe how it reads that way, but trust that it's a subtle language of weight shifting and leaning shoulders toward the exit that almost every woman could and would execute by the time they were nineteen years old.
[Sofie Janssen] Nodding her chin at Jackson, she settles back with her empty soda can on the table, and watches the interaction between the two Get of Fenris. It was a good display to see how things are done here in Chicago. Well, between these two anyway. She's only seen the pack interact for the most part.
[Roman Turner] Jackson asked him the most impossible question in the world. Was Rain ok? Oh hell for all he knew she was stark raving mad, or she was an angel. She could of been either, yet right now he was so clueless he wouldn't know without a neon arrow pointing to the correct answer.
"Honestly? I have no idea. She's upset about this Howard fella and all I managed to do was get her dander up. I might as well of stuck a burr up her butt."
His exhale was part frustration and regret.
[Izzy Montoya] The corner of her mouth tips dangerously toward a smile when Roman hands her another beer, toasts and hops up to sit next to her. She returns the clink of her bottle, the slight toast and lifts the beer to her lips for a healthy couple of swallows. She watches jackson as he arrives, and flicks a glance toward Sofie.
Drew mother's Roman, and walks away again. Jackson asks of Rain and Roman professes his frustration. Izzy chuckles, and exaggerates a sigh. "Women." Evidence she works in a male dominated field, there.
[Jackson Montgomery] He frowns a little bit and nods. "You know her better than me. Will I make it worse if I try to talk to her?"
[Roman Turner] "Seriously?"
He snorted at Jackson.
"Ya can't possibly make it worse, believe me."
[Kora] Kora finishes the last slice of meat on her plate and sets it on the counter behind her; a brief, swinging look directed now toward her packmate. She watches him move through the crowded kitchen, her face distant. There's no response from Kora on their shared spirit-line. Just that look.
Which is followed by a mirroring look, sharper back toward Rémy. She's standing up now, straight through the shoulders and the spine, chin high, her look direct - level across the distance. "I have my reasons," she says. A glance at the kin that may be instinctive - or explanatory - is left to the quiet context of body language. Her eyes return to Rémy, then - dark eyed look naked but latched somehow, like a door half-closed. "And you got the message. I don't care what you think about the living, but I won't hear that about the dead.
"Now. You're welcome to stay as long as you like. Excuse me," this with a look towards Roman, Sofie, Jackson. Kora stops at the door long enough to grab her coat and scarf from the hook, then disappears out down the hall, shrugging her way into her coat, buttoning up with deft, sure fingers before wrapping the scarf around her neck - once, twice, thrice.
Her footsteps echo down the hall, a long stride, quiet but not silent. Then she's in the sanctuary, a glance up for the moon, the bright points of the stars visible through the ribs of roof, far above. The air is so cold that the moisture it it seems to crystallize inside her lungs as she breathes.
[Drew Roscoe] "Huh." Drew's finishing up her beer at Remy's side, tipping her chin toward the ceiling along with the butt of the bottle to get the last drink out before searching for a trash bin and depositing of the empty dark-amber glass. She pulls her jacket on as well and grins, faintly, over to the Godi. "I think you charmed her."
She looks toward Roman, Izzy, and Jackson, and the smile broadens, brightens considerably. "I think we'll be on our way, just dropped in for a quick chat. Good to see you guys." General greetings were easier than individual ones, quicker and less telling. She buttoned her coat up from bottom to collarbone and lifted her eyebrows to the handsome man that had escorted her in (or was it the other way around?).
"Shall we?"
Post a Comment