Showing posts with label Asha. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Asha. Show all posts

Possession.

[Drawn in Blood] [Gnosis]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 6, 10, 10

[Memory] Roman's arrival was prompt. He was the first to arrive shortly ahead of the others and the scene was decidedly vacant. It wasn't unusual for a street to be left Vacant let alone a park! But it was unusual for two police cars to be parked on the side of the road with doors wide open... Abandoned. Without so much as a light flashing overhead. It was also strangely suspicious to find a corpse just lying on the road... Long enough that the steam rising from it was not visible to the naked eye. A small puddle of cool blood formed near the storm drain.

Joey arrived shortly after and Roman's keen observational skills can easily pick her out.

The small park area seems abandoned though it's hare to tell without any stable light. Trees perhaps... Some rocks? It's too dark to make out specific features of the landscape.

[Roman Turner] He wasn't so familiar with Joey, having seen her at a few Moots maybe? So when she arrived she found him closing the doors on the cop cars after looking inside them to see if the weapons and keys were gone. So far he had not approached the body and storm drain but he had a feeling about it. It was too much like a horror movie setting where the mutants came out of the sewer to eat your face off. Of course, this city was like a horror movie most times.

[Killswitch] [dlp!]

[Burnout] [percep+alert]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 4, 6, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Burnout] [gnosis]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 3, 6, 10

[Killswitch] Defiance rolls onto the scene. Joey hops out and gives the scene a gander, looking at that corpse and those cop cars. She looks at Roman, nods a greeting as she steps past him to peer inside those darkened cop cars.

"Hey," she says in greeting. Even without the full introduction with all the bells and whistles, the way Joey carries herself speaks of a higher rank. She looks back to her Alpha, one of decidedly lower station than she herself is. "Somethin's wrong with the power. Is EmmyLou still workin'?"

Stepping back a little, away from the pooling blood and the dead body, she crouches down to press her bare palm flat to the pavement. She frowns. "Anybody else feelin' that?"

[Roman Turner] He returned Joey's greeting as he closed the last door on the cop car.

"Howdy. The shotguns are still locked in place so they weren't spooked. Ain't sure where they went nor why this guy is laying there like that. Figure they called it in?"

[Kalaratri] Asha breaks out her Ducati for the trip. Nevermind that it is 37 degrees outside, the air sharp with salt and ice and cold and cinders, the foul effluvia that starts to wake up during the first days of a broken frost. The ice on the lake and the river is breaking up. There's little melting rivulets winding down the filthy piles of snow shoved up by the snowplows. Nevermind, nevermind, nevermind that she's not the world's best driver: the creature looks like a commercial in Italian Vogue - black hair, dark clothes, a fine white scarf waving out behind her. Kickstand and stuff is BORING but the Ducati is bright red and - well, she does all the usual stuff. They can see her from down the street, this slight creature with the delicate precision of a bird of prey and enough breeding to float the titanic, slipping off her sleek, crimson bike (which is spattered with mud and filth now. Have fun cleaning it, Thomas!) and walking down the sidewalk to meet up with the other Garou.

A flash of a grin, like a razor. Asha looks around.

[Burnout] Hunter strolls up with Joey, Roman gets a nod of his head in greeting and a little "Hey dude." His face is grim, lips firmly set and eyes watching the lamp posts flicker on and off for a few seconds.

"Somethin' is fucked up. Seriously. I mean this is all fuckin' way wrong. You all prepped?" His eyes fall onto Asha and can't help but grin back. She's infectious like that.

"Sup girl."

But that's it, then it's back to business.

"Seriously though guys, tha' fuck is goin' on? I'm gon' get ready for a fight, I'm too pretty ta' die on fuckin' valentines day."

And he does. A strip of crusted bandage and a sheriffs badge, reused from the last time John had it.

[-1G BB -1G SOAK WHAT HTE FUCK IS GOING ON]

[Drawn in Blood] John must think it's summer: he isn't wearing a jacket when he peels himself out of the car and walks up to the scene with his pack. A sweatshirt, he's decided, will suffice. It's above freezing, and he's not exactly a twig.

When he ceases walking, the Modi lifts his chin in a nod, a silent Sup? to the Child of Gaia he fought with one of his first nights in the city, and flicks his eyes between the congregated. The only ones who can hear him are the ones to whom he is bound.

[-1G, +3 soak from talen!]

[Burnout] "What tha' fuck??"

A blink, eyes turn between all of them.

"You guys hear that? Someone just fuckin' yelled GO AWAY!"

[Drawn in Blood] At his Alpha's outburst, the Modi does not startle or flinch, but neither does he stare at him like he's speaking Klingonese like he normally does. He looks over, brow furrowed in questioning curiosity, and then casts his eyes about at their surroundings. Though he shakes his head in denial, John doesn't argue with him. He pulls his hands out of his pockets as if preparing to either go after the source of the noise or clap Hunter upside the head.

[Primal-Urge+Perception]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 3, 5, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 8)

[Killswitch] Joey is momentarily distracted from her continued investigation by the familiar roar of a Ducati's engine, and a Ducati's bright red paint job. When she looks over at the Ahroun she's met but once before, the Fostern Rotagar's hang-dog eyes may as well have become hearts.

It's her Alpha's voice that startles her out of her ogling. A shake of her head, and she rises from her crouch, brushes her hands off on the thighs of her dark-wash jeans. She's wearing a fake-fur-lined black hoodie and a black wool cabbie hat with a button (ALL GROWN UP AND STILL WAITING TO BE A ROCK STAR) pinned by the brim. She adjusts the fall of her bag against her hip.

"I got talens if anyone needs 'em. Ground feels alive. You know, this's where that Valentine's Day massacre shit happened, like, back in the prohibition days." She sighs. "My kingdom for a goddamn Theurge. An' was prob'ly called in, otherwise cop cars wouldn't be here in the first place."

[Roman Turner] He greeted the others as the arrived,all with polite touches to the brim of his stetson. John got a wide grin besides the hat brim salute. Burnout asked if they heard something and his reply was.

"Er, I ain't heard no yelling, yet."

Joey mentioned the St. Valetine's massacre and that had him going.

"Al Capone and all that stuff?"

[Kalaratri] " - yufs," says the slight Ahroun, black eyes quick as a bird's (though it must be said, rather less observant) as she joins them, looking around with this faint, almost pouty frown marring her little bow mouth. That is her think-y face. " - rhya," to Joey, at the last. "I don't think we've been informally introduced!" There at the end, with a quick (shit-eating?) grin for all but Hunter, who has suffered through the "informal" introduction. "I left Thomas at home, though. He's doesn't like the way I drive."

Which -

...

From deep inside the inner pockets of her crisp leather blazer, Asha pulls out an equally grotesque bandage and starts to wrap it around her midsection, as if she were playing Doctor, or dressing up like a Mummy for Halloween. There are two narrow gold bracelets on her wrist, moving in the light. She can virtually smell the gnosis in the air; her sweeping gaze moves and lands, at last, on Roman. "I have a talen," she's already worming the bracelet off her wrist. "Make you tougher, too. Want one?"

[-1 Gnosis. BB. Offering Roman a soak talen.]

[Roman Turner] This was his first experience with a bunch of folk pulling out talens and such. He gave a faint shake of his head with the offer.

"I appreciate it Ma'am, but I ain't the strongest when it comes to spiritual connections and such. Might be I ought to save what little I got for a real pinch instead of maybe wasting one of your special things, ya know?"

[Burnout] Hunter pauses dead in his tracks, he misses the grin from Asha to everyone about formal introductions, if he hadn't he would have groaned and looked worried yet slightly amused. Instead his face goes pale, his eyes go wide, his mouth drops open and the only word that comes out is a questioning stutter.

"H-h-howard??"

[Drawn in Blood] John snaps his fingers to get Roman's attention when he hears the topic shift to his lack of spiritual energy, then gestures. It seems as though he wants the teenager to stay close to him; he has seen the boy fight, knows he is hardly a Cub, but without the capacity to speak he can't voice his motivation, and so that is all he has. A moment later his gaze is being snapped back to Hunter.

His furrowed brow becomes a frown.

[Killswitch] "Yeah," she answers Roman, "bunch'a guys got shot the hell up over there," she nods her head to the empty space between the two buildings where 2122 North Clark Street should be. She grins back at Asha, "Nah y'haven't. You'll have to hit me up with that sometime." She heard from Hunter about the informal greeting. Honestly, even just his description of that made her curious for the formal version.

Whatever she might've said next, it dies in her throat. Her attention, too, snaps to Hunter. She's no stranger to the voices of the dead calling out to the living (Is that what this is called? Love?).

She shakes her head at something. "Where's it comin' from?" Her voice is low, stern, serious. She, at least, doesn't believe her Alpha has lost his marbles.

That would imply him having them in the first place.

[Roman Turner] In his mind two things happened at that moment. Drawn in Blood snapped his fingers for attention and in Roman's brain something said..."oh yeah, he wants me to guard his back. I can do that." Never once imagining anything else. And the second thing was Burnout stuttered Howard. Howard, he never even met Howard when the guy was alive, but sure as Hell it seemed like Howard would chase him through the rest of his days. First there was the entire thing with Rain, now this?

"Ya see him too, or just hear him?"

Oh crap, ghosts.

[Burnout] He casts a sharp look at Joey, eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched, it's just a reaction to her shaking her head and he grits his teeth, grinds them slowly. Nostrils flare and he waits with all his patience while she asks that question, fists clenching at his sides.

It takes him a good few seconds before he does anything, like he can't believe he's doing it, like this is ridiculous. He is stronger than this, he doesn't bow to voices nor follow them. Today he does.

"WHERE ARE YA'?" He shouts out and it sounds deranged yet powerful. "Whaddya' want?" He adds slightly quieter.

[Kalaratri] "Give it a try?" suggests the Silver Fang, dark eyes on the Coggie. They're nearly of an age, the pair of them. There's something vicious and bright about the Ahroun, though, particularly with the moon waxing in the sky, with the breeding underneath her dusky skin. The gold bracelet glimmers, moving in the light. Hunter starts to should and Asha's nostrils flare, sharp with awareness, with this liquid sense of predator about her. The creature's grin is slipping away, but it briefly surfaces as she looks back to Roman. "You oughta. I stole 'em from Aanchal to use for talens. IF she finds out - "

Goes unspoken. "Just in case! It's not like it's got blood on it." Not like the bandage she wrapped right 'round her midsection, twined tightly. "I promise!"

The side conversation is quiet; Asha does not know their living or their dead.

[Memory] Silence... Darkness... The strange haunting feeling that each and every one of them is surrounded. There is something here. It's hard to tell what, nothing readily visible. Only the darkness around them. Only the haunting presence and a dark and bloody past. The group comes to the sudden realization of this place's past but there doesn't seem to be anything even pertaining to this spot directly... Save the violence... Save the bloodshed.

Hunter calls into the night and nothing is returned to him. Only silence only the wind seems to blow through the air. Soft and chillingly cold. Somehow seeming a hint colder than the rest of the world around him with the lingering of a familiar voice.

[Roman Turner] "Aanchal?"

He reluctantly accepted the bracelet like taking a snake offered for a kiss. It was so..so...girlie looking. And it was all he could do to try to keep from making a face as he whispered.

"I gotta wear it, where folk would see it?"

His ears flamed.

[Kalaratri] Gnosis!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 3, 10

[Kalaratri] WITS PLUS ZE OCCULT. (so figuring this out!)
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 8 (Failure at target 7)

[Burnout] Hunter catches something out of the corner of his eye, his head tilts, his eyes narrow and suddenly he begins walking seemingly towards nothing.

"Howard?" He questions again.

[Drawn in Blood] John has difficulty interacting with humans for a number of reasons. He doesn't understand them, for starters; he does not have a feral or lupine demeanor, but there are nuances of behavior that he misses out on on the best of days. There is a reason Garou are not to mate with Garou: half spirit to begin with, the body they create in union cannot handle that much energy. Moments like this when there are things happening that he cannot see or smell or hear, when all he has is feeling and his Alpha's distress, he ceases to seem human.

The Child of Gaia mistranslates what it is the Fenrir wants, and he becomes summarily distracted by his Alpha's walking. It seems more like wandering. John's nostrils flare, his eyes flashing, and he darts forward, grabbing the shorter yet heavier Ahroun by the upper arm to keep him from getting too far ahead.

[Killswitch] Nothing but silence echoes back from the darkness when Hunter shouts, but there's that creeping feeling of being watched. They're surrounded, though by what, they don't know.

Frowning at Hunter, Joey slips her hand into her bag and pulls out a small compact mirror. Flipping it open, she holds it up and stares at it like a tricorder. Though, she probably wouldn't get that reference.

[Peeking! diff I don't know, -1 (mirror)]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 4)

[Kalaratri] "Naw," Asha asserts with a quick shake of her dark head like she was confiding a secret. "You can break it if you wanna. Or you can just - like, push it with your head and the spirit inside pops out. Uhm, kinda like gum in one of those foil wrappers? The candy-coated gum." She sighs, quiet, the patter moving. Gum's very common. Chewing's not lady like. Or Princess like. Or Silver Fang hero like.

"Aanchal. That's my sister, she's all impressed with herself because she got a baby. Maybe a true-born. From our House." A note of distaste, there - quiet underneath it all - grievance underneath the gossip about strangers Roman could not possibly know or care about. "She's so obnoxious," the complaint continues. " - is that the ground? Or the air?"

To Roman; then a sharp look upward, frowning at Hunter, sweeping a look toward Joey and Drawn in Blood. Asha leaves the bracelet in Roman's hand and walks forward, her flat black boots nearly silent on the sidewalk, the grass and mud. Shadowing the forward movement as Hunter makes it, frowning at the nothingness.

- something solid, too, about her presence, the sort of thing that reinforces the spine.

[-1 Gnosis, Inspiration!]

[Roman Turner] He knew a bit about the St. Valentine's murders. It was part of the history his Ma made him study before he could come here with Sparrow some ten months before. He knew the legends of the spot being haunted, that the bricks that had once stood here were said to be bad luck. That people reported if they walked their dogs here that the dogs became agitated, even barking and howling. Now though, two cops were gone, a body lay dead here with blood flowing towards the sewer grate and Burnout was hearing Howard's voice.

As for himself, he was being offered a shiny girl's bracelet to wear, which so didn't jive with his Stetson and sheep's wool lined coat, cowboy boots and stiff pressed Wranglers. And he was about to go nose around the dead body to see what sort of get up it wore and exactly how it died. That's about when Burnout started talking to the air again and Drawn in Blood went after him and Kalatri gave him TMI and a bracelet.

"Ah, horse shit."

Was muttered and the bracelet slipped on and tucked up under his sleeve out of sight and his own curiosity took him towards the body and the sewer grate.

[Memory] Lights flicker and suddenly one of the police car's comes to life. The brights of it's lights blaring down on the group and the blue and red begin flashing before the sudden flare of it's siren's blaring deafeningly upon the group. The car, which had been dead only seconds ago, surges to life with sirens blasting as the engine of one of the cars begins to rev. Suddenly the entire area is alight with a brilliant glow as a second car snaps suddenly to life... The second police car joining in the show. Blinding lights assaulting the senses for anyone looking in their direction... Deafening sirens making it difficult to hear one another.

The lights also shine a glow upon the two corpses of police officers scattered around one of two trees in the small grassy area.

Hunter walks towards something that isn't there and Joey stares off into space at nothing at all.

Asha complains about her sister, and this is doubtless an important matter for her and her tribe though!

John... John doesn't speak. The modi just watches. Ever ready and alert as the area around them suddenly comes to life.

[Roman Turner] Bracelet roll
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 7, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6) [WP]

[Kalaratri] STAMINA!!!!!!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 5, 9 (Failure at target 6)

[Burnout] [stam]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 3, 5

[Drawn in Blood] [Stamina]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 7

[Roman Turner] Stam.homid +bracelet
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 4, 4, 4, 6, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[Drawn in Blood] [+3 because I am a dumbass]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 6, 9

[Burnout] [+2]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 4

[Roman Turner] And again...stam....
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 4, 6, 6 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Killswitch] [WP!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Killswitch] "Ugh," Joey says, and snaps that compact closed. "That was...HUNTER NO!" she shouts to her Alpha, eyes wide. It's not the first time she's shouted at Hunter out on the street, but this time there's genuine fear in her voice, a genuine concern for his safety.

[Burnout] The grip of a fenrir encloses his arm and it isn't his Beta's, she's busy peeking into the Umbra. He stops, looks down at that arm almost expressionless but it isn't until he hears Joey's voice that he actually looks like he isn't going to keep going. His head turns back to her over his shoulder and he frowns.

"What's wrong?"

[Roman Turner] He clapped his hands over his ears and squinted something fierce with the cars came to life. Likely no one would hear him over all the noise but he was yelling.

"Look out!"

That was about when the cop's bodies registered in his brain. Though he was more concerned about getting run over.

[Killswitch] "There's somethin' on the other side," she says to the group. "Like a ghost, bound to the earth. On the otherside, you'd be headin' straight into it."

She looks over her shoulder at the cop cars going nuts, squints a little. "What the fuck? Did those start goin' off when you started walkin'?"

[Burnout] "I guess so, I mean I wasn't payin' much attention n'all."

He winces, face screwing up as he looks at the cars.

"Someone shut those fuckin' things off yea? Rip out tha' god damn horns if ya' have to, smash tha' lights."

[Killswitch] "Whatever it is, it's fuckin' pissed as hell. Come back this way, maybe movin' away from it'll shut off the cars."

Even so, she walks back to one, opens the driver's side door to see those keys Roman mentioned, see if they're in the ignition and if taking them out will shut off the sirens.

[Kalaratri] Now Asha has creative destruction to unleash. She runs toward the police cars, shifting to Glabro half-way there, Crinos if it is clear that no one human is around, and grabs the lights from the roof, tearing them away. RAWR.

[Roman Turner] He was having a hard time hearing what people said with all the noise and flashing lights. At this rate he was sure he was going to top John by going deaf and blind. Between the two of them they could cover See, Speak and Hear no Evil.

Part of his brain expected to get run over by a cop car as he raced towards the one the others didn't go for. He knew one thing, he knew how to crawl up under the dash, remove the fuse box cover and yank out all the fuses.

[Drawn in Blood] He clearly doesn't trust his Alpha to not keep moving across the street toward whatever it is Joey sees. His own eyes are widened and focused on the tantrum-tossing police cars, as though he isn't entirely certain what the hell it is they're doing. Maybe he's never seen a police cruiser before, or he's never heard one in action, or he is halfway to being convinced they're possessed and about to perform Christine reenactments. Whatever the case happens to be, John keeps a strong hand on Hunter's arm; he starts to step back, giving the shorter male little choice about moving with him.

And then Roman takes off.
John sighs, lets Hunter go, and races after him.

[Burnout] Hunter doesn't need guiding any more, he saw what Joey saw and now he looks fucking pissed. He snarls and stomps and makes his way to Joey's car and if required he will literally shift to crinos and throw the car at a building.

[Memory] Whether keys are removed or cars are literally smashed it is only a matter of seconds before the police cars were silent, quiet and they found themselves bathed in darkness once more. Something was still out there and they could feel it's presence. They could feel eyes upon them seething with vengeful rage. But for the moment the urgency and the chaos of the moment has passed making it possible to think straight and collect their thoughts.
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 1 at target 7)

[Kalaratri] "You said - " a flashing look toward Joey, now. The Silver Fang is in Glabro, heavier, taller, her breeding like a musk that hangs around her, the echo of the ancients all the move visible in her bone structure, evident in the echo of her deepened voice. "That there's something on the other side. Bound into the earth. Right?

"We all feel it. There's nothing here to fight, right?" She is not the most observant, so our Asha gives them each a direct look to confirm. "We need to cross over, regroup, and tear the spirit out from the roots of the earth, cleanse the other side.

"I know the Rite. Unless there are other ideas?"

[Roman Turner] Chaos stopped, yet still something watched them. It made his skin crawl and made his mouth kick in as he headed back towards John.

"Scared of an eight second ride? This ain't my first Rodeo. Ya want a taste of this? I guarantee, I'm hotter than a Halbenaro, twice as likely to burn going down and coming out!"

He called in to the night.

"Enough cat and mouse! Ya got something to say? Chicken shit!"

[Burnout] He gets about halfway to the car when the lights and sirens stop and suddenly he pauses. He rubs at his face, he rubs at his chest and suddenly he throws his jacket to the ground and starts dancing on the spot. Well it's not exactly dancing, it's more like scratching himself and shaking all over the place. He falls over onto the ground and rolls around like a poison log.

[Drawn in Blood] When they get to the car, John stops his forward momentum with his palms, the smack of flesh against the cold metal as close to a violent outburst as he's going to get. A huff of breath, not flustered enough to be exasperation, and he looks around as if to confirm what it is that Kalaratri has decided, or that Fate's hollering hasn't negated it. Searching eyes find nothing here beyond the dead human lawgivers, beyond shadows and his--

John pushes his tongue into the back of his incisor when Hunter starts convulsing, staring without expression on his face. At this rate he's going to end up going gray before he hits Fostern. The Modi pushes off of the car and strolls over to the Bone Gnawer, not rushing as he had when the Child of Gaia tore off toward the car.

[Killswitch] "If we cross, we go in ready to fight. It's one ghost, but a zillion tentacles." She grins at Roman, unaccountably proud of her auspicemate.

She watches Hunter with more than a little concern. Something tonight is out to get her Alpha. That something is about to get ripped to shreds. She shifts, up and up, to Glabro and then to Crinos, all the scars visible, and finally down to all fours in Hispo, a grey-furred dire-wolf ready to fight.

[Roman Turner] One moment he was issuing a challenge at the night and the next he was on the ground, thrashing around, back arching, body trembling, rolling, screaming in pure agony.

[Roman Turner]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 5, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 8)

[Kalaratri] Oh, what the hell. When Roman starts yelling, Asha stops her Very Serious Recommendations and throws in a few heckles of her own: "&+2309;&+2352;&+2366;&+2332;&+2325;&+2340;&+2366; &+2348;&+2306;&+2342; &+2325;&+2352; &+2342;&+2367;&+2351;&+2366;, &+2347;&+2367;&+2352; &+2349;&+2368; &+2309;&+2349;&+2368; &+2349;&+2368; &+2313;&+2344;&+2381;&+2361;&+2375;&+2306; &+2325;&+2369;&+2331; &+2342;&+2375;&+2326;&+2366; &+2341;&+2366;. &+2351;&+2361; &+2313;&+2360;&+2325;&+2368; &+2340;&+2381;&+2357;&+2330;&+2366; &+2325;&+2381;&+2352;&+2377;&+2354; &+2325;&+2367;&+2351;&+2366; &+2324;&+2352; &+2325;&+2375; &+2352;&+2370;&+2346; &+2350;&+2375;&+2306; &+2313;&+2344;&+2381;&+2361;&+2379;&+2306;&+2344;&+2375; &+2332;&+2377;&+2344; &+2325;&+2368; &+2323;&+2352; &+2357;&+2366;&+2346;&+2360; &+2309;&+2343;&+2381;&+2351;&+2325;&+2381;&+2359;&+2340;&+2366; &+2350;&+2375;&+2306; &+2313;&+2360;&+2325;&+2375; &+2350;&+2369;&+2306;&+2361; &+2354;&+2366;&+2340; &+2348;&+2344;&+2366;&+2351;&+2366; &+2361;&+2376;. &+2319;&+2325; &+2310;&+2336; &+2342;&+2370;&+2360;&+2352;&+2368; &+2360;&+2357;&+2366;&+2352;&+2368; &+2325;&+2366; &+2337;&+2352;? &+2351;&+2361;!"

God only knows what it means, as the creature is - like Killswitch - shifting into Crinos, then Hispo, heavy pawed on the ground, padding forward, her coat pale in the moonlight, nearly white but marked with silver.

[-1 WP, Resist Pain]

[Burnout] He gives himself one last shake -- no scratch that. NO DON'T SCRATCH IT JESUS

Hunter's player has gone insane from Seb's mind games, but luckily Hunter is still quite capable. He pushes himself to his feet but he's shifting as he does it, elongating and popping joins, bones expanding, muscles bulging and a hand snakes out for his jacket just as he bursts through into crinos. The garment disappears into his fur and he remains on all fours, sinking down again into Hispo.

A snarl, a god damn horrific growl from the entirely unamused Alpha of Defiance and he looks at Asha, looks at Joey, tips a head and looks at Roman. He doesn't bother telling them all about the insects, poor bastards would find out soon enough.

To victory, to the death of this foul beast, ASHA ARE YOU WITH ME, JOEY ARE YOU WITH ME, JOHN ARE YOU WITH ME, ROMAN GET OFF THE GROUND.

He lashes his tail, gnashes his teeth, bristles his fur.

[-1 WP resist pain]

[Drawn in Blood] John sees his Alpha getting to his feet and decides to let the Ahroun handle himself. The Ragabash, though, has a Modi on him like white on rice: John doubles back, grabbing the screaming teenager by the front of his shirt and, as gently as one can expect a Fenrir to do such a thing, hauls him off the ground and onto his feet. If he doesn't stay on his feet, John damn well holds him there until he does. It isn't until Roman is back in the game that John bursts into his war form.

It isn't an order that comes over the totem phone, but a request.

[Killswitch] First Hunter, then Roman drop to the ground, rolling about to rid themselves of, something. Joey shakes out her fur in sympathy, but then Hunter's up again. Calling them to arms.

The Rotagar's jaw drops open in a lupine grin, her tails gives a happy little swish, and she lets out a woorrrrooorrrrrooorrrr.

[-1WP Resist Pain, -1G Soak!]

[Burnout] Tails wag and Hunter returns that woofing howl to Joey, muzzle lifting into the air woorrroooorrooorrr. He's about ready to go when his eyes turn to John and the other Ragabash.

Roman, he barks, Stick with the Modi.

[Roman Turner] Burnout could issue orders till the cows came home. Roman couldn't hear them over the sounds that were felt more than heard in his mind and body. He thrashed wildly, sweat soaking his face. His hat had rolled off, he was nothing but screaming agony. Could he scream like a girl? Hell yes. Could he scream like a soul tossed into Hell? You betcha. He screamed like the damned, his voice growing hoarse already. Even when hauled up, he was a wildly thrashing tangle of arms and legs that was desperately trying to pull away and run from something.

[Roman Turner]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 8)

[Killswitch] Everyone is preparing for war, yet the Ragabash remains on the ground, thrashing and flailing. Joey doesn't wait for orders from Hunter, but trots quickly over to the boy, looking him over for the cause of his distress.

Tipping her snout down, she nudes him unless he thrashes her away, nudges and pushes and tries to help his escape from an (unseen?) assailant.

[Drawn in Blood] Okay so John's still in homid. They don't usually breed Full Moons this patient. Common sense says not to hold still a body in the throes of an epileptic convulsion but Roman's screaming, and people having seizures don't scream.

John looks around at the others, visibly perplexed. The only other person this happened to was Hunter, and Hunter has been largely quiet about what the hell happened to him. The Modi hauls Roman across the street, away from the police cars.

[Killswitch] [peeking!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 9 (Success x 1 at target 5)

[Memory] [1-2 Hunter, 3-4 DiB, 5-6 Kalaratri, 7-8 Killswitch, 9-10 Roman!]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8

[Roman Turner] John grabbed hold to haul him off and Roman fought like a hooked Swordfish on a line. Thrashing, hoarsely screaming, flailing as if his life depended on getting away from something that was agony few ever survived.

[Roman Turner]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 7 (Botch x 2 at target 8)

[Killswitch] Joey peeks across, hoping to see if those tendrils have hold of Roman from the other side, hoping to find some answers.

What she sees is that face. Tempting her. Offering her something someone else might fall all over themselves to accept. But not Joey. At her throat, beneath the layers of her clothing worn in Homid is a necklace made of a green stone pulled from the Umbra. On the other side it pulses faintly. The living heart. Family. A reason to keep her mind closed.

She peers across the Gauntlet into that face, and her lips peel back from dangerously sharp teeth. Killswitch snarls, and she pushes forward. Through the barrier.

[crossing!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 5)

[Burnout] Hunter is a step behind her, without speaking, just a growl in his throat.
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 5)

[Burnout] [2 more]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 2 (Botch x 1 at target 5)

[Kalaratri] Asha - Crossing!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 7, 8, 8 (Success x 4 at target 5) [WP]

[Drawn in Blood] This kid is fighting like a goddamn salmon. John clearly has no idea what he's supposed to do to help him, other than what it is he does: he hooks his arms, effectively putting the No Moon into a restraint, and marches him a full block away from the police cars. So far as he can tell there are no bystanders, nobody who cares enough to peek out the windows and try to figure out what the hell is going on. He seems to be going on the fact that the two of them are close enough in age that they can pass for family, on his Rage, to keep humans from investigating too closely.

He sits the both of their asses down on the cold ground, securing Roman's arms and legs so he doesn't hurt either of them, and he waits.

[Roman Turner] There seemed to be no awareness of movement, restraint, anything, he fought regardless. Fought like a wild cat with it's tail in a bear trap. And he screamed in that high pitched wail of agony like a damned soul.

[Roman Turner]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 7 (Failure at target 8)

[Kalaratri] With a sharp, moving frown, Asha leaves the Child of Gaia under the watchful eye of the hot (not that SHE knows that. She prefers the Beebs.), silent Fenrir and slips across the gauntlet, through the curvilinear movement of her reflection in a piece of mirrored jewelry she has hanging from a narrow gold chain, hidden beneath the crisp lines of her white Oxford. POOF. She pops across.

[Memory] The three emerge on the other side and they find themselves outside the cityscape they had expected. A thick fog was cast over the region which was largely dirt beneath their feet. There was a powerful stench surrounding them, it was enough to bring tears to the eye and force all who stood on this side to choke back the urge to vomit. Death... Decomposing flesh. The ground itself was mixed with blood, and the writing of maggots laid by the twisted fly spirits who likely called this place home. They could see around them the shattered broken graves of hundreds... If not thousands of souls. They were shattered, splintered... Some were uprooted and tipped over some corpses simply lay in the mud half buried. They were no longer in the heart of the city the spirit realm often learned to reflect the impressions of that which was left upon it and despite the fact that Chicago had grown, moved on, and changed... The spirit world still reflected Lincoln Park's forgotten history.

So many memories... So much death. So much abandoned, and forgotten. But not tonight... Was it chance or the knowing doing of some criminal who brought death to this place? So much emotion and history. The taste of violence, the taste of murder has fed the ancient soil, whatever sleeps beneath this place rumbled and shifts in it's slumber. Some ancient forgotten thing writhes it's tendrils and reaches for the surface hungry. Sucking away life, and memory, and energy... Draining everything in it's path in it's eternal hunger. Something threatens to awaken beneath their feet and the brave Garou find themselves face to face. Not with the beast itself but with a manifestation of it's will. It's dark and twisted living nightmare hovers with tendrils stuffed up and under it like a puppet before them. With hollow empty eyes it hungers for their very lives. It hovered before them with hollow empty sockets for eyes... They had brought themselves to it a feast served up on a plate. Surely they would prove a far more satisfying meal than a drug addict and a few lousy police.

[Kalaratri] The Silver Fang snarls when she reaches the other side of the gauntlet. The air stinks, the twisted corpses in the broken ground have the hispo-beast stepping lightly, almost delicately, over the churned muck of the soil. She shakes her gleaming fur, and in an instant she is gleaming all the more, so bright that she is a beacon from a distant, a sharp, blurred smear of light up glow.

With a snarl, she launches herself at the spirit.

She's angry.
It was movie night.
And Valentine's or something.

[Burnout] [+10]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2

[Killswitch] [+9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8

[Memory] [+10]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7

[Roman Turner]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)

[Kalaratri] 9
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4

[Memory] [Nightmare 17
Burnout: 17
Kalaratri: 13
Joey: 12

We'll start declares and the like while Roman posts :) ]

[Memory] [Declare in reverse!]

[Burnout] [1a
1b
1c
r1
r2 - bite a tentacle]

[Roman Turner] He was wildly thrashing, screaming and suddenly the hoarse screaming cut off. He went limp, just laying there for several seconds as his chest rose and fell with his panting. While he was still trying to catch his breath, trying to swallow pass the pain in his throat, that he lifted his hands to study them. He felt his body as if feeling for damage. Memory is a weird thing, he knew for a fact he was burning to charcoal, his flesh had crackled, popped, split and crisped like bacon before blackening. Yet he couldn't see that now through eyes that would of turned to liquid qoo before evaporating.

[Memory] [Umm Burnout is second not last!]

[Kalaratri] [Resist Pain, Lambert Flame already active. 1a. 1b. 1c. Rage 1: Rage 2: BITES. Tentacles.]

[Killswitch] [1a:
1b:
1c:
R: Bite tentacles!]

[Memory] [1A: Nightmare! On... Everyone!]

[Roman Turner] ((Seriously would not just pop up and leave John, but player is afk? So er, feeling lost))

Tries to cross when he has half a wit and says something to John and shifts to Crinos?
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 5, 7, 7 (Success x 3 at target 6) [WP]

[Memory] [Be afraid! WP Diff 7]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 7, 7, 7, 8

[Memory] The beast draws in it's breath and sucks in the air around it... Until all the air around them seems to disappear and the garou are left with nothing to breathe. It sucks inward and it's chest swells to massive proportions and then suddenly an overwhelming surge of an explosion bursts from the creatures mouth erupting like a volcano as it sends a whitehot surge of searing flame rushing over each and every one of them! Enough to instantly sear fur and send pain surging through each and every one of them...

Everyone soak 3 Agg diff 9(Cept soak it with WP and yes... You do get +1 auto success)

[Kalaratri] Willpower - soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 9) [WP]

[Burnout] [>_> wp soak]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 4, 7, 7, 8

[Killswitch] [WP Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 5, 8 (Botch x 1 at target 9)

[Killswitch] [1a: Bite: -3]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 8, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 5)

[Killswitch] [dam: +3]
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Memory] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 7, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8, 10, 10

[Killswitch] [1b: Bite: -4]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 3, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 5)

[Killswitch] [dam: +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8, 10

[Memory] [Soak again!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 8, 10

[Killswitch] [1c: Bite: -5]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 3, 7 (Success x 1 at target 5)

[Killswitch] [dam: +0]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 8, 8, 8, 10

[Memory]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10

[Kalaratri] 1a. -3
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 5, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 5)

[Kalaratri] Damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 7, 9, 9, 10, 10

[Kalaratri] 1b. -4
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7 (Success x 3 at target 5)

[Memory] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Failure at target 60)

[Kalaratri] Damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 3, 3, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 10, 10, 10

[Memory]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 5, 9, 9, 10, 10

[Kalaratri] 1c. -5
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 6 at target 5)

[Kalaratri] Damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 6, 7, 7, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10

[Memory] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 6, 7, 7, 9, 10, 10

[Burnout] [1a - 3]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 5, 6, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 5) Re-rolls: 1

[Burnout] [dmg+4]
Dice Rolled:[ 16 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 6, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 9

[Memory] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 6, 8, 9, 10

[Burnout] [1b -4]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 6, 10 (Failure at target 5) Re-rolls: 1

[Burnout] [1c -5]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 4, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 5) Re-rolls: 2

[Burnout] [dmg+4]
Dice Rolled:[ 16 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 7, 8, 8, 8, 8, 10

[Memory] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 8, 8, 8, 10, 10

[Killswitch] [R: Bite tentacle!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 5)

[Killswitch] [dam: +2]
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 9, 9, 9, 10

[Memory] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 6, 8, 9, 10, 10

[Kalaratri] Rage 1: CHOMP. (Mmm. Calamari!)
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 8 at target 5)

[Kalaratri] Damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 15 d10 ] 3, 3, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 7 at target 6)

[Memory] [Soak that shit!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10

[Burnout] [r1 bite]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 5) Re-rolls: 1

[Burnout] [dmg+2]
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)

[Memory] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 3, 3, 5, 7, 8, 10, 10

[Kalaratri] ASHA. Rage 2:
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 4 at target 5)

[Kalaratri] Damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8

[Drawn in Blood] [Gnosis: I WANT TO JOIN YOUR WORLD ROMAN]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 7, 7 (Failure at target 5)

[Burnout] [R2]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 4, 5, 5, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 5)

[Memory] [Soak! Asha's!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 8, 8

[Burnout] [dmg+2]
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 5, 6, 6, 6, 8, 8, 8, 9, 10

[Memory] [Soak Huntaur's!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 6, 8, 9, 10, 10

[Drawn in Blood] [NO SERIOUSLY. Diff 6.]

[Drawn in Blood] [... might help if I put dice into the dice roller.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 5, 6

[Drawn in Blood] [I'm just going to keep going until he botches. Diff 7.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 7

[Drawn in Blood] [Derp derp derp 8.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 7, 9

[Drawn in Blood] [Derrrp derp derp derp 9.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 5, 7, 8, 10

[Drawn in Blood] [Watch him get three 10s.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 7, 8

[Killswitch] [+9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1

[Burnout] [+10]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9

[Kalaratri] [+9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9

[Burnout] [swapping inits with Joey!]

[Roman Turner] +8
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3

[Memory] The creature's fires surge through the others though Asha remains unharmed. The three garou do not seem to mind the flame which might be somewhat surprising to the thing which still stands despite their best attempt. Those tentacles have been culled and their number now dwindles. As the Garou tear at more and more they are scked back under the earth where they disappear. Soon the things tentacles are barely holding it aloft and yet still it stares. Empty hollow eyes as it hovers before them.

[Memory] [+10]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9

[Memory] [Tie Breaker!]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8

[Memory] [Nightmare:19
Burnout:19
Kalaratri:18
Fate: 11
Killswitch:10

DeclaRE IN REVERSE!]

[Killswitch] [1a
1b
R: Bites on tentacles!]

[Roman Turner] 1a claw puppet/doll thingie
1b do it again
1 r yep, do it again.

[Kalaratri] [1a. BITE. 1b. BITE. 1c. BITE. Rage 1. BITE. Rage 2. BITE]

[Memory] [Odds boy, evens girl]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5

[Burnout] [1a
1b
1c
r1 - bite]

[Memory] [Odds Joey, Evens Asha!]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5

[Memory] [Attempt to possess Joey!]

[Killswitch] [JOEY'S NOT A BOY]

[Memory] [Shit sorry! Umm Odds Hunter Evens Roman!]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10

[Memory] [This'll be fun roman! Just open up your brain wiiiiiide! *Dives*]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 5, 5, 6, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10

[Memory] The others perpare to attack... Getting into position as Roman comes racing back. Fond memories are shared between Roman and the spirit. He's so young, so brave, so full of hope and life! It finds itself drawn to him... It literally dives at him in a final desperate attempt to spare itself the fate the Garou would likely deliver upon it. Soon enough Roman Snarls, bursting to his war form and facing the Garou. Tentacles bulging from his skull... Connected by the same bonds to the same entity and yet the spirit itself is still hidden somewhere within those eyes which look out at the world only with malice. They will likely win this battle... But it will take one of them down with it tonight!

[Burnout] [1a -3]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 5) Re-rolls: 2

[Burnout] [dmg+3]
Dice Rolled:[ 15 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6, 8, 8, 8, 10, 10, 10

[Memory] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9

[Burnout] [1b -4]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 3, 3, 6, 7 (Success x 2 at target 5)

[Burnout] [dmg+1]
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 5, 6, 6, 8, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10

[Memory] The tendrils are severed and the link to the spirit is instantly shattered. Roman's eyes seem to clear and control is instantly restored... However something is still off. Roman can feel it... Deep down within the depths of his Psyche. There is something still lurking within him. Another mind, a dark and wicked thing. It's connection to it's creator severed and yet it finds itself bound, instead, to a new host. It's control shattered but it is still there inside him.

In the meantime the earth beneath their feet rumbles in pain and soon enough the tentacles are sucked back beneath the earth. The thing, the walking nightmare born of some ancient tentacled beast is forced into slumber. Without an outlet to the world, without a means by which to leech the energy of the living world it finds itself rapidly falling back into it's own ancient slumber.

Soon enough the Garou are standing alone... In a quiet foggy umbral graveyard. Not exactly the most romantic place to spend Valentine's day!

I did a scene.

[Sofie Janssen] "Hey, Erek." The words aren't flat, and they are quiet, but not necessarily soft. Soft isn't something that's associated with her other than the feel of her skin, or the promise of underlying organs.

Her pale eyes drift over his face, back over his clothes and to the ink peeking out along his stomach, and slowly flit back up along his clothing to look at his eyes again. It's strange, watching someone that's effectively upside down. For the first time, Sofie's expression is harder to read. There's a small etched frown between fair brows and the edges of her mouth are neutral rather then shifted up or down.

Then she breathes in and lifts her chin, looking away and over to the television to see what it is he's watching. "I thought someone left the tv on," she says, in way of explaining why she's just come to stand there. She hadn't expected him or anyone to be in the room.

Her sweatpants are comfortable, loose, the sort worn for actual running or working out. The colour is a light gray, and her t.shirt is a baby blue, and even in its soft shade, her eyes are still paler than it. Neither item is meant to flaunt a figure she may or may not have any them. But its less clothes than he's seen her in yet. She's tall and lean, with a definite curve of a hip and bust that heavy winter jackets hide.

[Erek Skulason] *He's got the Cartoon Network on (which may or may not be typical of him), animated figures flicker across the screen in speed lines and outlandish body types. It figures that he would have a secret fondness for anime. But Erek wasn't paying attention to it, he was focused on Sofie, he actually misses the highlight of the story's plot line that it had been building up to for the past twenty minutes.

She hadn't been expecting him, or anyone's presence for that matter. It turns the corners of his mouth down, he removes his gaze from her frame, tosses it back on the television as he shuffles his position on the couch, attempting to get comfortable. He finds it difficult to do so, uncertainty budding up inside of him*

You probably saw me get my ass kicked last night, I imagine that must've been pretty exciting to see. Two against one. Felt like I got pummeled by a freight train with that fucking Gnawer rearranging my organs.

*There's a bittersweetness resounding in his words, the humiliation of what happened to him still hanging in the air. He rolls his shoulders into the cushions*

Don't have any place to stay and figured the couch is better than sleeping in the snow.

[Sofie Janssen] Swinging her attention back to him, she watches his face as he recounts what happened the night before. It makes her brows hitch a fraction of an inch. "Nah," she murmurs with a thoughtful purpose of lips, "I didn't see it. I caught the tail end of you being carted out the back door when I was coming in."

"John snarled at me to get going, so I didn't stick around." This is added with less thoughtfulness and a little bit of flint. "Glad you're alright though."

Moving from where she's standing, she steps so that she's facing him, between the table and the couch, but lower so she's not blocking his view of the television and is actually now looking up along his body at him. "You wanna talk about what happened, or leave it there? And you can always stay here at the Brotherhood. If there's no spare rooms, you can camp out in room seven." Where she is.

[Erek Skulason] *Erek had braced for the worst with Sofie, anticipated a conflict to stir because of the way they had been around each other in past encounters. He coughs, surprise edged into his features, pulling his eyebrows up, making his eyes widen and his jaw drop when she offered to allow him to camp out in her room or what he presumes is hers. He knew she was staying here and had been wary about running into her.

He lifts his head off his arm, legs pulled inward to bend as he swings them down to plant socked feet on the carpet, his torso swung as he sat up. Hands run through his hair, shaking it out, causing it to lay any way it wanted to on his head. He leans back raising his chin to look up at her*

I really don't want to discuss it. It's kinda one of those embarrassing guy things we don't want girls to know about. Doesn't look good getting my ass kicked, not very impressionable.

*His chest lifts, air exploding out of his mouth in a husky laugh as he speaks* I wouldn't mind a place to put my stuff. I'll remember to keep my hands to myself.

[Sofie Janssen] Following his movements with her eyes, she didn't say anything until after he had, speaking about impressions. A shoulder lifts in a quick shrug. "Can't always be the big wolf." She doesn't know what happened and doesn't go and try and figure it out. He had said he doesn't want to talk about it and so she doesn't. Instead she had offered that some battles had to be lost and said in such a way that it was a fact, that there isn't any need to be ashamed about it. At least that's how she meant it.

Nodding once, she accepts that and begins to walk out from between the couch and table, back around the edge of the couch where she had first appeared. "I reserve the right to kick you out of the room if you don't behave," she calls out quietly.

"Going to put my washing on." He could come. He could go and put his stuff in room seven, or stay where he was. Either way the Kinfolk was walking into the hall to pick up her laundry bag and turn left into the laundry which was just by the common room.

[Erek Skulason] *Some battles were meant to be lost. Can't always be the big wolf, she says to him. Erek sucks in a deep breath, feeling as if his nuts just crawled up inside his body. She says it in a way that tells him not to be ashamed, and yet it's still there under the surface. He was a Get of Fenris, shit like this would've been considered a sign of weakness. His uncle would have taken him out back and beat him to near death for losing*

Deal.

*It's the only thing he can come up with, agreeing with Sofie about reserving the right to kicked him out if he misbehaved. He watches her exit the commons, leans down until his chest touched his knees to stretch a hand out to grab his bag and boots in one hand. The other plants down on the couch, supporting his weight as he rose up and begins to follow after her*

[Sofie Janssen] In the laundry room, Sofie is pulling out clothes and stuffing them into a washing machine. She goes through the motions of adding some detergent, not much and only after she's checked what sort of detergent it is that they use here. "If you have anything that needs washing, toss it in here with these. I don't have any whites." Which means she's not worried about running colour dying her clothes.

If he puts clothes in or not, the lid is shut after and her laundry bag is set on top to show that it's being used. Brushing her hands over the back of her sweats to get off any detergent residue, she turns away from the washer to look back at him. "You want to put your stuff in the room? You can see with the folks that run this place if there's any spare rooms or beds tomorrow. Bit late to annoy them now."

[Erek Skulason] *Erek stands in the entryway of the laundry room, his eyes on her to take in her movements, even the most domesticated thing she does seems to hold his attention. He inclines his head to the side, resting it against the wall. The strap of the bag rests mostly in his palm as it dangles against his knee, his fingers hooked into the boots of the same hand that holds the bag. He shakes his head, almost cringing at the idea of throwing his own clothes in with hers.

It felt too personal*

Nah, they're clean. I'd done some washing before I was thrown out of the other place I was staying at. Figured the Broho was warming than staying at the Church. I grew used to living indoors with an actual bed instead of a wood pew with snow for a mattress.

[Sofie Janssen] "Where were you staying before?"

Since he's standing in the door way, she hangs back for the moment. Leaning into the washer behind her, she sets the heel of her palms on it, with her backside resting against the side. The sound of the water pouring onto the clothes is dimmed by the closed lid, but it's still a background noise that's a little louder than she expected in this small room.

She's watching him. Her gaze is steady, locked onto his face. For all their previous run-ins, there's only a mild tension in the back of her mind, and an expression that's he's come to know as hers being quieter in the background. Like that time at the Church when there were people talking and he was throwing her looks.

[Erek Skulason] *Sofie finds herself trapped in the laundry room, she would have to walk past him, likely get close enough to brush against him in order to exit. He doesn't take his eyes off of her, not with the way the intensity of their color seems to shift, almost darken. Erek isn't good at hiding his emotions, sometimes he can joke around them, play the idiot and be unpredictable, but when's he troubled. He's transparent.

The young Get of Fenris becomes tight-lipped, he doesn't want to answer the question as he assumes it'll bring conflict*

I was staying with a kin that was kind enough to take me in. Her tribe felt it was inappropriate for me to be there as she's unmated, it wouldn't look right with just us there living together. Even though, I never touched her in any intimate way. She was like a sister figure to me.

*He pushes off the edge of the wall, stepping back into the hallway and turns to look around, he jerks his head off to the side* You want to show me the room, Tyr?

[Sofie Janssen] There's a snort from her, and a smirk that she can barely suppress. "So you were staying with Drew." Seems that the word about that Kinfolk has got around easy enough. The Tribe isn't many numbered and there's some gossip on the grapevine. Her eyes glint as she pushes from the washing machine and begins to walk towards the doorway to walk after him.

She doesn't say anything else, just moves past him if he was waiting on her to do so, or nods with her chin down the hall of he doesn't, giving direction of where to go. Room seven was at the end of the hall and around the corner, behind the bathroom.

"We're gonna be leaving the door open," she adds, as an afterthought, letting down some ground rules.

[Erek Skulason] *There's a fire in his eyes that lights up when she says that. He arches his eyebrows at her, staring after Sofie as she walks past him. He pushed away from the wall, shaking his head as he keeps pace behind her, never overcoming her speed as they walk down the hall to room 7. She starts to on about ground rules and Erek clucks his tongue loudly, interjecting*

Just tell me when your work hours are and I'll sleep when you ain't here. I'm sure as fuck you ain't going to want to see my naked ass anyway, and obviously don't want me watching yours.

*He can't help it, it just comes out. His eyes skirt away to the other doors, not bothering to lower his voice as they make their way down the hall*

[Sofie Janssen] "I sleep here at night." When most Kinfolk sleep. She's not out hunting things at night. "But I wouldn't sweat it," she goes on to say, pushing open the door to room seven, which was already left ajar, "like I said, I'll ask tomorrow about spare rooms."

The light is flicked on as she walks in. Aiden hasn't been around anytime she has. He may as well not exist. It's Sofie's suitcases at the end of her bed, stacked neatly side by side. Her jacket is on a neatly made bed. The blankets are folded down at the top, pillow in place without a head crease on it. Hiking boots are tucked under the bed, side by side, and next to them are some jogging shoes. Her scarf, hat and gloves sit on a suitcase and anything else of hers is packed away.

"Put your bags down somewhere."

[Asha Singh] Someone's stomping up the stairs. Walking down the hallway, with a deliberately heavy tread. Maybe it's an excess of energy, this deliberate choice the slight creature makes to make so damn much noise. Maybe she's just childishly pleased with cowboy boots she's wearing. Complete with spurs.

Some people have more money than sense, and Thomas will ensure that these new shoes have disappeared tomorrow.

For now, though, the dignified, long-suffering butler endures, with dignity as he always does. The pair sweep by the open door to Sofie's room, trailing the scent of cold and something sharp and sweet underneath it, with a hint of wooded musk. There's a door somewhere down the hall, open and shut: "SORRY!" shouted. Another door, "I think that's the bathroom, ma'am - " and finally, what seems to be the correct room.

Some whispered conversation, some foreign language.

Five minutes later, they're going the other direction. "I don't know that they'll agree it to, ma'am, but of course I will ask whether we can replace all the furniture."

"It's so - "

- and, stomp stomp stomp, the jungle of fucking spurs on the rises of the stairs, stomp stomp stomp through the kitchens, stomp stomp stomp, out the door, into the bitterly cold night.

An informal introduction

[Sofie Janssen] A small huff is amused. She watches him take off his jacket, and while he's leaned forward, takes the opportunity to shift the way she's sitting so that her knees are to one side, resting into the back of the couch, and her spine is straighter so she doesn't feel like she's eating a kneecap. While there had been plenty of room for the Garou to sit elsewhere he had decided to sit right next to her, which doesn't bother her as much as it might others, understanding that Garou have different boundaries to humans.

"Yeah, more or less. Some of the girls here give that impression to tell you the truth." Shrugging a shoulder, she's back to watching his face, his grin. Her own doesn't come then, though, because she doesn't think much of folks like that.

[Hunter] He raises eyebrows to that comment, lips curling with incredulous amusement despite the fact that hers do not. It has been awhile since he heard a kin-folk talking about the others around her like that.

"They ain't so bad, I mean not all of em'. Some good ones n'here for sure. I ain't ever seen not a single orgy in here before if it makes ya' feel better."

[Sofie Janssen] "Really?" The look she gives him is complete disbelief. Not at the orgy comments, but at the not so bad part. Her look is wry, and her low chuckle matches it. "Please. The first time I walked in here, you remember that girl giving you and John the eye? I know you saw her. Pretty as a doe."

This sort of talk needs beers involved.

"But I'm glad to hear about the orgies. Even if there was, at least I have a decent headset here." Lifting the player for emphasis then tucking it into her sweatpants pocket with a chuckle. Sofie certainly does not seem to be the type like plenty of others. She hasn't given out a single come hither vibe to anyone. Then again, don't Fenrir go about it differently? Probably punch someone in the mouth before kissing them.

[Quinn] It's early yet for the owner of The Winchester to be returning to The Brotherhood, but then she went in earlier than usual. And on a slow, cold winter night like tonight, they didn't need so many people manning the tavern.

So Quinn bundled herself up against the cold, and she made the trek north to the place that, for now anyway, is home. She's been around for a while, has already showered away the smell of the bar and changed into clean, dry clothes. Voices in the common room, faint enough to be acknowledged but not loud enough to be understood, draw her out at last.

The two out there hear a door open, and then there she is, dark hair twisted up into a clip, dressed in a t-shirt and black cotton lounge pants. They can see the trail of birds winding its way up her right forearm. Hunter may notice that her ears are bare.

She stops in the doorway leading into the common room with a, "Whoa hey." Then she frowns, wears an expression that openly wonders if she's intruding, especially when she catches orgies. She quirks a brow at Hunter, an unspoken question there.

[Amunet Trujillo] She doesn't exactly stomp, but she's no graceful thing either. A career as a ballerina is definitely not in her future. Coming down the hall from her room, she glances around the gathering area and scowls deeply as something is muttered just under her breath.

[John] John comes up the stairs not like an ogre or another mythical beast but like a soldier, his steps controlled and purposeful, boots clomping but not crashing against the wooden stairs as he ascends. Behind him, there is little din from the kitchen. His Rage is half its normal strength, hardly the overwhelming wall of anger and nerves that it tends to be. It doesn't cause the senses to scream and the ironclad to shy away, though humans, the majority of them, still cannot tolerate him.

This is nothing new. He cannot even understand humans, let alone begin to know how to tolerate them.

It's cold as hell outside, cold enough to kill, and when John arrives at the top of the stairs, he looks somewhat frozen. Compared to last night, he does not look as though he wishes he were dead; his lips still have a bluish tint to them, and his skin is pale as the moon overhead. There are blisters on his hands that he popped hours ago, draining into the bathroom sink at the warehouse while he scowled, leaving flattened patches that would likely grow infected if he were human.

He didn't bandage them. Rinsing them off with whiskey is the only thing he could have done to possibly make his own self-inflicted first aid manlier, but he hadn't wanted to waste alcohol.

So, when John appears, he looks cold. He is cold, but he isn't here to warm up. He's here because he finally had the chance to look at his text messages and realize what it is that Amunet was going on about last night. Hunter, at least, is aware that his packmate has arrived before he has to turn around and find him with his eyes. The Modi doesn't acknowledge anyone out in the common room, save for a cursory flick of his eyes and a shrugging out of his jacket. He tosses it over the arm of the sofa, revealing his uniform of boots and jeans and a tame-colored thermal shirt, and keeps walking.

Whereupon he nearly runs right into Amunet.

He doesn't stop, and he certainly doesn't speak. He takes her by the upper arm, the expression on his face hidden from the congregated by his direction, and urges Amunet to walk with him back down the hall. His grip is so light it's barely worth mentioning; but he is also far stronger than he looks, now, which ought to be a frightening prospect for most people.

[Hunter] A Fenrir would most definitely be more likely to punch someone in the mouth than kiss them, a fury too perhaps, another reason why their tribes are not as different as they claim to be. This Fenrir talks about a girl and Hunter narrows eyes, trying to recall a girl who had made eyes at him. Truth be told he had been intently focused on recruitment rather than relaxation, the girl had probably escaped his notice. Maybe she had, but he has seen her since and he knows with a sudden realisation that blooms on his face of which girl Sofie is talking about.

"Ooohh.. makin' eyes at me?" He blinks, "Really? Don't remember that.. I seem ta' recall she was--"

He pauses, Sofie can see the slightest motion of his nostrils taking in a breath before his head turns and his eyes fall upon the Fiann in the doorway. Whoah she says, hey. An eyebrow is raised at Hunter in question but he isn't looking at her eyes, they have found their way to her ear and its lack of jewellery. She might notice a difference with the Gnawer too, the way his shirt bunches on his body and the strength of an arm that curls up along the back of the couch in her direction.

"Quinn." He says in a rumble and seems lost in thought for a moment before he continues. "Was just tellin' Sofie bout' tha' serious lack'a orgies here." A smile that reaches his eyes, something warm yet amused. Just then there is another girl behind Quinn, scowling and muttering.

Hunter isn't watching her though.

"Have ya' met?" He flicks eyes back to Sofie then to Quinn, questioning glance. He barely even looks at John though he knows what is occurring outside his line of sight. They have a totem phone now, he doesn't have to say anything out loud.

[Amunet Trujillo] Her mouth opens, then closes again. Scowling just slightly, she allows herself to be propelled down the hall without as much as a grunt of protest.

This is not good....

[Sofie Janssen] Giving a glance over to Quinn and Amunet who's came in behind the tall woman, Sofie watches them a second and takes in both their expressions before giving a quick look to Hunter. Her voice drops, but it's certainly not a whisper. "One of those your girl?" Unable to help herself, her teeth flash in a sudden and rather fierce grin.

Suppressing her chuckle.

Then John comes in, dumps his jacket and walks out to take Amunet by the arm and off down the hall. "Oooo," she whispers softly, then does make a snicker of a laugh under her breath. "Someone's got to tell that guy we're supposed to have better taste." We being the Get of Fenris, of course.

Quinn gets a nod and an actual smile from Sofie, though it doesn't make her expression soft by any means. Gentle and soft doesn't mix with this Kinfolks features. Her eyes aren't the sort that can get all bedroom nor pleasant either. "Hey," she greets.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] The Strider comes from the hallway, freshly dressed. her hair is wet and somewhat tangled, having just showered and gotten her still-healing wounds from the other night cleaned up. She's wearing a black tank top and jeans, and generally seems to be in a good mood. Even if she is walking a bit gingerly. She heads down the hallway to the common room, pausing only briefly when she sees John and Amy heading in the opposite direction. She locks eyes with her half-sister, an unspoken message passing between them before she smiles and nods to John and continues on her way.

Once she makes it through the door into the common room, she looks around at those present and grins. "Hola, chicos and chicettes. What's shakin' like bacon?"

[John] Now, he hadn't made a scene last night though there are plenty of other men, let alone Garou, who would not have taken kindly to being toyed with, whether it was merely his perception or whether there was anything rooted in reality to substantiate the notion, nor being walked away from. John, however, is not a hot-headed young buck who has something to prove. He does not attempt to intimidate or dominate every other male Garou he comes across, though with his height, his breeding and his presence he would likely be capable of it without much trouble. Beyond that, he actually seems like he has a decent sense of humor, takes very little that doesn't require seriousness seriously, and actually has respect for someone other than himself.

It's a rarity, given what has been blowing through Chicago in recent years, but given that he can't talk, he doesn't do a lot of blowing up of his own ego.

So, last night, John had just laughed at what had happened because he didn't understand it and walked out. It wasn't until after sobriety hit him like a bucket of water that it occurred to him that wires were crossed, perhaps. Lord knows what he was thinking.

Passing by Sarita, John looks somewhat amiable considering he's pedaling her sister down the hallway towards their room. He gives her a lift of his eyebrows and a nod, the light in his eyes seeming to say Oh hey what's up! as though they're in a park in the middle of June on a sunny day and not the halls of a hostel.

They continue around the bend of the hall, and a moment later, a door opens and closes.

That's when he lets her go.

[Quinn] She laughs when Hunter says he was telling Sofie about the lack of orgies here. The sound is low, more of a huff through her nostrils than anything so defined as a hah. "Hi, Amy..." is all she gets before Guy strongly insists the other kinswoman head back down the hall with him. She steps out of the doorway, fully into the common room.

"Is that a bad thing?" she asks, and heads for one of the chairs rather than the sofa.

"Quinn," she gives as introduction.

[Hunter] Eyes follow the movements of Quinn intently and it wouldn't be an illusion if she saw his jaw clench and his lips press together in a flat line when she drops herself down into one of the chairs. But he doesn't say anything and although that eyebrow of his threatens to raise questioningly, it doesn't.

Sofie has a question, a low murmur as this is all happening, not a whisper at all but not normal tones either. She wants to know if one of those girls is his and Hunter just straight up does not answer her.

"I dunno, depends on ya' point'a view. Orgies in here though? Ain't no place for them sorta' games."

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] "Okay, seriously. If I'm getting left out of orgies, I'm gonna start kicking some serious ass." She grins and moves toward the couch. "S'bad enough that my sister gets laid more than I do, but I gotta at least have the opportunity to be competitive."

She sits carefully down on the couch and sighs. "So we're all exciting, being shut-ins on Friday night, huh?"

[Sofie Janssen] "Well met, Quinn." Sofie doesn't move from where she's sitting in the corner, back to the arm of the couch and knees pressed together, resting against the back of it. The t.shirt she wears is a simple navy blue and it's loose enough to sleep in. Her sweatpants are a lighter shade of gray. Bare feet are tucked in with toes curled between the cushions, separating herself and Hunter.

Looking back and forth between the two, and then to the woman that enters calling them names of another language and talking about shaking bacon, Sofie decidedly stays out of any further talk about orgies and sex, especially with the more explicit talk about being laid. There are some lines she doesn't cross, though these aren't clear cut.

[Asha Singh] Someone is coming up the stairs. Two someones, actually. There is the sound of some - crazy foreign tongue, that sounds functionally like nothing anyone in the room has every heard before. Like a spider-scrawl of a tongue, seventeen accents and an extra umlaut per vowel that you cannot even tell from the consonants.

One of two people is stomping.
The smaller one of the two.
Actually.

[Quinn] "Nice to meet you, too, Sofie," she replies with a polite incline of her head. Quinn draws herself up into the chair, wraps an arm around upraised knees, curls a hand around an ankle. She's friendly, open, not exactly gregarious, but she tries not to leave people out.

"Ah hah, yeah, if any orgies break out spontaneously, Sarita, you can have at it. I'll be the stick making a beeline for the door."

Someone is stomping up the stairs. The Fianna kinswoman lets go of her legs, lets her knees drop down so that one presses into the arm of the chair, and she twists to get a look at the stairway. Before anyone appears, though, she looks back at the gathered, casting about a confused Do you know what that's about? kind of look.

[Asha Singh] And soon enough: a girl emerges. Dark-skinned, slight, with coils of crisp black hair falling in elegant, shampoo-ad worthy waves around her exotic features. She's wearing a strapless gown of bronze sequins that falls perhaps four inches above her knee, and a single gold bracelet liquid around her wrist. Her feet are bare.

She is carrying a doughnut.
It has sprinkles.

In her other hand, a plastic sandwich bag, the kind that ziplocks closed, smeared with a gelatinous red. It could be cherry pie filling oozing out of a deep-fried crust. It could be an ear.

God only knows.

Behind her a tall, well-dressed man in a tailored suit, crisp lines, black and white. A cravat, subtle diamond cufflinks through the cuffs of his monogrammed white shirt. He has a stick.

At the top of the stairs, she takes a survey of the people in the room, checking them off against some mental list. She pauses when she sees Hunter, waves, rather peppily, and turns to the tall, dignified gentleman with gray curling at his blond temples. Says, leaning as if she were whispering, for all that she is perfectly audible to all. "He's one of the ones I need a proper introduction to!"

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She shrugs a little to Quinn's unspoken question. She seems intensely curious as to who it might be herself, and she glances to the stairwell before she looks back to the kinfolk.

"No clue, but we may wanna call an exorcist. And suggest that they put split pea soup on the menu for tomorrow."

When Asha and her companion arrive, she looks back, examining the two. Each of the participants in the room are summarily dismissed by the newcomers, except Hunter. That brings a cock of the eyebrow, and Sarita leans back a bit to watch with a grin that can only be described as Cheshire-like. And possibly worrisome.

[Hunter] "Yo' Sarita." He throws it out casually with a nod of his head.

Stomping is heard, voices, or what are presumed to be voices. The only thing that marks them as such is the phonetics that vaguely resemble some unknown language and the audibility of it all. His eyes drift past Sofie, past Quinn to the stairs and he actually steps up off the couch to wander over to that exit almost protectively of the kinfolk.

He doesn't get very far though and he stops before she even emerges. Ancestry strikes him like a blow to the head and causes his lip to curl but it relaxes a moment later into a smile for the woman when she makes her way into the room. There is someone at her side, someone Hunter has never seen before and he looks the man over.

He's one of the ones I need a proper introduction to!

One brow lowers, the other rises and his lips quirk at the corners, he crosses his arms over his chest. This is unusual. He waits to see how it all plays out.

[Sofie Janssen] There's little talk that follows the new arrivals into the common room, where Sofie had been listening to her player not but ten minutes ago, alone. Now coming up the stairs is someone speaking gibberish to someone else equally qualified in the language, and moments later Hunter is up to go and see what it's all about after Quinn's partially worried glance and Sarita's quip.

Sofie merely glances over and watches the woman enter along with the man, both of which are dressed in a set of clothes that costs more than her whole closet stuffed in her closet. Its this she notices more than anything else, and the way the woman speaks to the man. Brows raise. Eyes stare.

And her mouth quirks at Hunters stance.

[Asha Singh] "His name's Hunter," Asha tells Thomas. The kinsman - whose blood is rather less fine than his rather young mistress' own - has a certain dignity of purpose about him that makes up for what he lacks in raw breeding. He inclines his well-groomed head to listen as Asha "whispers" to him. "Burnout." And gives her a smile of approval when she manages to refrain from informing Thomas that Hunter Burnout is very common.

Good girl!

The gruesome little package in her hand is sealed firmly, dark against the striking brilliance of her dress, which sends dancing motes of light all across the floor around her as she moves. "Yes ma'am," Thomas says, pronounce it mum in his oh-so-posh British way. Then he smiles, magnanimous, toward Hunter.

And raps his stick, once, against the wooden floor. (Asha loves this part, so much.) As if everyone in hte room were not already staring at her. "Mr. Hunter Burnout, sir. I believe you have been casually introduced before. However, do allow me to make an informal introduction.

"I have the deep, abiding, personal pleasure of introducing you to Her Eminent Highness Arundhati Sunyana Elevarisi Asha Priyamvada Natajaran Singh.

"Daughter of Alexander Harrison, Vision of the Fall, Scion of House Wyrmfoe.

'"Great grand-daughter of Sri Padmanabha Dasa Vanchi Pala Karthika Thirunal Rama Varma Dharma Raja Kulasekhara Natajaran Singh, Svatantrya to the Nation, of the Sept of the Broken Sky.

"Descendent of the Maharahajadhiraja Bahadur, Great Prince of Princes, Elder Philodox of the Silver Fangs, House Blood Red Crest."

All this for a "Cliath Ahroun, House Blood Red Crest, kalaratri to the Nation. Which means both night of death, and death of night, in your own human tongue." Asha beams at Thomas, all approving. Apparently, that's all she wanted.

Flashes a glance at Hunter. "Hi!" And takes a bite of her doughnut, the ear swinging casually from her hand, blood contained, but dripping against the sides of the bag. Then, she glances back at Thomas. "I've been thinking about moving in here."

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Her mouth drops open. There's no other reaction that is remotely attainable for the Strider than a jaw-dropped, googly-eyed stare at the pomp and circumstance of the whole thing. It's not pure shock, though...the corners of her mouth are upward turned. Her eyes are both disbelieving and glittering with mirth. Either her usual grin has been sublimated by the stunning introduction, or the whole sequence that just unfolded is so funny to her that the wires in her head have crossed and she can't quite express it.

It takes several moments before her voice finds her again. "Holy fucking hell, I gotta stop doing drugs. Or at least the ones that cause flashbacks. Because I swear, it looks JUST like that actually, seriously happened."

[Sofie Janssen] The Kinswoman looks like she's swallowed a fly. Her features do this weird contorted sort of thing, where she's really trying to stop her eyes from bugging out their sockets, while trying to keep her tongue from flapping and all the while trying not to do what she really wanted to do and bust out laughing. She is going to give herself a hernia with the effort, to be sure.

She can't be serious. He can't be serious. Sofie looks between them, and sure enough, they are.

Leaping off the couch, like her pants are on fire, Sofie pads barefoot around the back of the couch and takes a direct path towards and through the hallway door. The moment she's out of sight, she's jogging down the end of the hall, biting the heel of her hand as snorting starts to come out her nose.

[Quinn] There is no worry, no concern drawn into the kinswoman of Stag's face, merely confusion. She doesn't recognize the language, not even enough to say that it's one or another. And she doesn't recognize the young woman who steps into the common room with an escort, though she does recognize what she is.

Hunter rising is noted, drawing her attention pointedly away from the girl in the pretty dress that's probably worth more than her bar. Blue eyes travel over the Ahroun, lingering a touch longer than necessary before shifting back over to the girl and her announcer.

An intro begins. Quinn turns in her seat to watch. Though she knows she and the other females in the common room have been dismissed with just a glance, she is patient and respectful and not at all wishing to get up and walk out of the room to read or break into a bottle of bourbon.

Her eyes, though, are starting to glaze by the end of it. These aren't names she needs to know, and yet the kinswoman will remember them, the ones she hears anyway, the ones she pays attention to.

Asha's looking to move in here, well fantastic. "I must've inadvertently shared whatever you had," she quips to Sarita, unfolding herself from the chair and rising. "I think we're having the same hallucination. I think I'm going to go walk it off." And the third kinswoman of the evening makes her exit. This one reappears a few minutes later, bundled up for the winter cold despite the hour and the neighborhood and all of it. She bypasses the Fangs, heads down the stairs, and disappears into the night like a goddamn ninja.

[sorry guys, it's 2am and I can't handle life @_@ thanks for the play!]

[Lukas] The thing about Asha's introductions is -- even if you're, say, in your room, kicking back in your bed, reading a book or writing a letter or something -- you still have plenty of time to get up and get over before it's finished.

So by the time Thomas is done, Lukas is leaning against the doorway that leads out to the halls and the rooms. His arms are folded across his chest. Or well. They are, until he raises one hand -- very gradeschool -- and asks in apparently utter seriousness:

"I'm sorry, your Eminent Highness, but I've forgotten my table of genealogies. Could you remind me of the full ancestry of His Royal Majesty Maharahajadhiraja Bahadur?"

[Simon Zahradnik] Have you ever stabbed your own mother in the back with a rusty knife again and again while listening to her scream I love you so much why are you doing this to me?!? all the while twisting the knife around and laughing? Well neither has Simon and yet why does he feel dirty. Like the kind of dirty that doesn't wash off? The kind of dirty that clings to the soul and cannot be erased. Simon has always done what was necessary... He has always stood ready to put his duties and responsibilities before himself. Yet the stench of betrayal hung heavily around him. Rage coursed through him and yet it was an entirely unsettling kind of rage. A kind of bitter self hatred that he still couldn't seem to chase away.

He could still taste the chill of frost upon his tongue. The kiss of freedom... Of boundless, limitless power wanting to be unleashed only to watch it whimper and fade as the Garou turn their backs upon the very forces that feed their inner rage. Their boundless destructive potential, the churning belly of the mother who gave them life... Her skies, her seas, her beautiful mountains.

Funny... Simon has never been a part of such an impressive victory and yet was left feeling like it was a complete failure. In the end though this was the kind of thing that hardens the heart and helps awaken the Shadow Lord to the true nature of the world right? He was learning that sometimes you had to destroy hope cause... Your elder doesn't like it? What the fuck does that even fucking mean!?!.

"Before you can truly understand what you are fighting for you must stab it in the face Simon! That will teach you the value of... Something something..."He mutters as he swings the door open and makes his way upstairs.

He needed something to calm himself, so why in the fuck did he come here?

Eyes scanned the area. Looking about the Common area. Pool... Pool will help. Right? The darkly clad Ahroun made his way towards the tables. Who in the hell knows what he needed. He should be out smashing something evil's face in that's what he fuckin' should be doing.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks over when Lukas is suddenly there, and he asks Asha to go through this full ancestry. Her eyes widen to silver dollars, and she looks back. She looks back at Asha and Thomas, smiling like a little kid on Christmas day. It's not often she looks this giddy, 'cause it's not often she gets to be this amused.

...no. No, she's not normal.

[Hunter] A commoner takes part in something he has never before been subjected to in all his years under Luna's smiling face. If there are words to describe the thoughts that run through Hunter's heads in this moment then they escape this writer like sand through a sieve. Outwardly he smiles at first when it all begins, this ageing gentleman speaks like it is an honour for Hunter Matthews to receive this special attention and effort from the undoubtedly royal Ahroun at his shoulder.

But it all begins to fall apart because let's face it, Hunter is no member of the court, he is no Prince of Persia or even the stable boy of such a man. He is a Jackal, a Gnawer of Bones both proud and yet without the restraints of believing that pride is worth anything. His arms go slightly slack, one falls to his side before the other and he stands there lop sided with a hand tucked to his ribs and his mouth slightly open in shock.

It doesn't end, it really never ends. He wants to scream out HELP HELP IM BEING OPPRESSED , but he really doesn't have the energy or the cognitive ability to form words right now. She is the daughter of some Indian dude with a name consisting of more letters than the alphabet and all Hunter got out of it was that somehow this is meant to mean something, that this doesn't happen for everyone.. surely.. she surely doesn't do this to every person she meets. His eyebrows raise in alarm and confusion How does she get anything done??

About halfway through it he stops looking at the man and starts studying the female at his side, she preens and beams and smiles like this is exactly how things should be all the time. No Asha, this is not how things should be all the time. The look is written all over Hunter's face and he barely gets a chance to react before all the kinfolk in the joint go running for the hills, hiding faces and bellowing out their sudden disarray at this assault on their senses.

"I.." He stumbles and then Lukas is there, goading her on. The look Hunter flashes him is not one of kindness at all, it is a look a bro might give another bro when he just set him up with a particularly disgusting blind date in order to score the hottie. Hunter growls and his lip curls but his eyes go back to Thomas.

His face says one thing to Thomas, I swear ta' god if ya' keep talkin' imma' rip ya' god damn throat out. But somehow it is without simple anger, more frustration and amusement and a totally dominating sense of pleading. He begs, don't do it!

[Asha Singh] Asha snorts, part-way through her bite of the doughnut. Which is sugar: with sprinkles in multicolors scattered over lavender icing. Then she chews, with a sort of prim precision, like she were listening to some childhood governess in her ear telling her that it's not polite to slip treefrogs into the folds of your obnoxious sister's sari before she's meant to go meet the the eligible young men of whatever is the latest Sept to which she has been paraded for the purpose of Catching a Man's Eye and Making New Babies for a Dying House while she sits there trying to figure out how to produce more fucking tree frogs now that all the cliath Ahrouns in the Sept slew the ones she had with their stupid little swords (which: mind, were not nearly as cool or bejeweled as her own pata.)

"-rhya" says Asha, with that bored emphasis on the word. "I only wanted an informal introduction. Why, Thomas has his stuck, but he doesn't have his sword OR his hat." Neither of which Lukas himself has ever seen. "Anyway, it takes like three days and nights to recite so it's not very practical, is it? If you want, though," conceding, at last, something to Lukas' greater rank. "I can have Thomas write it down for you so you won't forget. Or he can come by, uhm, if it's three hours every evening, it will take one turn of the lunar cycle, so maybe 8 p.m. tomorrow?"

Then she wiggles the bag at Lukas.

"Has you see the other one of these? I had a matched set."

"Maybe you left it in the car, ma'am," Thomas suggests. Steers, giving Lukas as much of the eye as he dares. "Shall we go have a look?"

"Oh, bother," declares Asha. "I did not. I suppose I'll have to get another one."

AND before you know it, our heroine and her entourage are trooping back down the stairs!

[Sofie Janssen] Down the hall, room seven has busted its door open and partially shut, and a Kinfolk has barely made it to the bed when she's howling out laughter, with sinuses burning from the previous, snorting effort. She knows don't laugh. Don't laugh in front of Garou, which is why she had tailed it out of there the moment she felt it coming on. It's that bewildered laugh that has turned into something hilarious because of the effort of being suppressed. At least she has mind to roll and bury her face into her pillow to muffle anymore and tries hard to get it under control, while practically crying.

What the fuck was that!

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She watches the whole thing with a look of amazement. This is the most surreal thing that's probably ever happened to her, and considering that her half-sister likes to pretend she's a Garou from time to time, plus other random misadventures, that says a lot. She blinks when they bloody ear is waved about, and she looks around the room, as if asking them if they're seriously seeing the same thing. Then she looks back.

And then, like they were never there, except for the dumbfounded faces, Asha is headed back down the stairs. Sarita is speechless for a couple of moments until finally she nods.

"Yeah. Totally gotta stop doing the flashback drugs."

[Lukas] "I -- "

before Lukas can tell her that no, no, it was quite all right, he doesn't need the full introduction, and no, he hasn't seen the other severed ear she left lying around someplace, Asha is turning and trooping out again.

"If you want to move in," he calls after her, "I think the only room left is nine!"

Also, following her in mind if not in body: Weren't you Her Exalted Highness before? Did you get demoted?

[Asha Singh] Stupid Anchal had a baby. Asha grumbles back in his mind. Maybe she has been demoted. It looks like a wizened monkey's shriveled head.

Then, moments later when he can feel them wandering through the kitchens.

Hey! Do they have a blender down here!

princess

s[Matthews] Hunter nods his head to Lukas without hesitation, speaking up for the both of them.

"Ya' bout right. Not bad's puttin' it lightly tho' don't mind me sayin' -rhya."

Wait, did Hunter just call someone rhya?

[Drawn in Blood] The look on the Modi's face when Lukas informs him that perhaps the Jarl can find him something more productive to do than what he was doing tonight is easily translated as a dry Oh, hah hah. He cannot vocalize this, and he doesn't come up with any way of attempting to thank the Ahroun Elder for passing along the information as to where he could find the rest of his tribe. Blood-stained fingers take back the paper, then the pencil, which he hands off to Joey. Wiping his face one more time, the still-nameless-to-her young man looks to Drew, his expression briefly apologetic, then steps away from the congregation and starts off down the street without excusing himself.

It isn't for lack of awareness that that is the socially acceptable means of leaving a conversation, but of all the things he is worried about, seeming rude doesn't appear to be one of them.

[Drew Roscoe] Drew had, for the most part, stood near the curb, distancing herself from the whole congregation of Garou without moving too far away, out of earshot, or appearing to be separate from the group from an outsider's point of view. She stood with her hands in her coat pockets, after she'd shaken the snow from the hand that had offered it to the Modi with the broken nose, and listened in. Watched as writing utensils were passed to Drawn in Blood-- realization spread on the Kin's face there, but faded into nothing soon enough.

All goes back and forth, Lukas's attention hops from Drawn in Blood to Hunter and Joey (A pack, huh? Really now?), and the Modi takes the chance to glance toward her, look somewhat apologetic, and then make his way up the sidewalk. Drew pauses, but only for a moment, before nodding briskly to the three left in front of the cafe.

"Joey, Lukas. Glad to see you're both still around, I'll have to catch up with ya sometime. Gonna go... be Family for the time being, though." Hunter gets a momentary stare, a shake of the head, and she's walking after Drawn in Blood with the low, dull clack-clack of utilitarian work heels on the pavement to carry her away.

[Oliver] Joey watches Lukas and the Ahrouns. Drawn in Blood isn't the only one to shoot Hunter a quelling look, though the look from his Beta is less skin-melting. There's no point in pointing out the obvious, once they've all figured it out.

When the Modi hands her back her pencil, she accepts it with a wry grin. He leaves without a word, perhaps in search of the rest of their tribe in Chicago. Joey watches his retreat, nods to Drew and waves. "Yeah, later."

Then, her attention's back on the sept's war leader.

[Lukas] Lukas turns briefly from the Vanguard to nod to the departing Drew, a faint smile turning up the corner of his mouth. "It's good to see you're back, Drew." The polite corollary would be to wish Joe well -- but something, some sixth sense, some intuition, keeps Lukas from saying it. "See you," is all he says before turning back to the Vanguard.

"That's good," he says, "because things have been quiet in the area, but I doubt it'll stay that way. It'll be good to have some advance notice. Where do you guys usually roam? Lakeview?"

[Matthews] "Bronze, southside." He repeats, and he watches the retreat of Drew while he says it. It isn't a look that roams her form or finds appreciation in a beautiful woman. It's a look like, she don't like me much I dun know why!

"Speakin' a which, been in contact with Imogen n'Kora. Got some funky shit goin' down on my side'a town mainly. Some in the green too but mostly my side. Don't know much yet but it seems.."

He frowns.

"S'like corporate fronts n'shit ya' know? But worse'n that, it's them that live out north if ya' catch my drift. I'm sure ya' heard bout' it already but yeah. Keepin' busy with that right now."

[Drawn in Blood] [THANKS FOR THE SCENE SUCKERS]

[Simon Zahradnik] Simon spots Lukas outside and he is drawn in that direction once he has some coffee. His hoodie is pulled back on, however, and he moves to find the group. His attention sliding over the others outside the building. Curiosity about why he has been summoned here, and what, exactly, his elder wished of him. Lukas was more than just an Elder Ahroun, or an Elder, he was an Elder Shadow Lord and no matter how one might attempt to separate individuals from their tribes there would always be a link there between them.

He greeted all those gathered outside. A little smile worn as he lifted his cup before turning his attention to Lukas."You rang Rhya. I got here as quickly as I could."He says figuring he should announce his presence properly. It was only then that he took the time to acknowledge the others gathered. Joey wasn't technically lower in station but it was Lukas he came to meet... Besides the old man was getting up there in years and bound to be a little farther ahead rank wise than Joey!

[Lukas] "Good. I was going to reassign you to Bronzeville if you weren't there already. Most of the skirmishes that go down in this city seem centered there. Cabrini looks like hell, but the Fenrir seem to keep it under control.

"I want you and your packmate to keep tabs on that place and whatever might be going on. Keep lines of communication open with Dark Sky, too. They'll probably be joining you in the area. We might need to recon the Hive area again soon, too. The Knights at the Church have been taking heavier losses again recently. Something might be up, and right now the two of you are looking more and more like my best scouting pack. So be ready for that."

A beat.

"So don't fuck around getting in brawls." It takes a certain sort of person, personality, and composure to sling off obscenities so smoothly, so sternly. "In Lakeview, of all places. What was that all about?"

[Matthews] He listens, nods, pays attention. It isn't often Hunter Matthews gets the chance to look like a soldier rather than a charismatic thug. Sure he is a leader in battle, a warrior, but this isn't natural right here. This is practised.

"Keepin' em, Keepin' em" he says almost quietly to himself when Lukas mentions lines of communication with Dark Sky.

And when finally he gets asked a question? He doesn't sigh, he just raises both his eyebrows.

"I just said hello to the guy s'all called em' dibs cause that's his deed name n'all. He's been hangin' with JoJo a bit so thought I'd try get friendly with em' but guess he took it the wrong way."

"I ain't come here for a fight, I just ended one s'all."

[Lukas] And:

"Simon. No need to hurry -- just wanted to talk about the war-readiness of the packs of the Sept, but let me finish up with the Vanguard first. I was just telling them that I might pair your packs up in Bronzeville's defense. You spend a lot of time down in that area, don't you?"

[Oliver] Hunter listens, pays attention. Joey watches on, silently attentive. Her attention becomes more focused at mention of scouting the Hive.

"I'm gonna talk to Honor's Compass about challengin' for Ragabash leader before the month's out, boss. Someone's gotta rally the scouts."

She falls silent again when talk turns to the brawl, but this silence holds a different weight to it. It's thoughtful, considering.

"That guy's gotta lotta pride. You saw how he was 'bout trying to communicate." It's all she says aloud.

Dibs? Seriously? The questions are not amused.

[Lukas] "Fair enough. Fenrir tend to take their names seriously. It's a thing of pride for them, particularly their Ahrouns. Just ask Joey. You didn't know better, but now you do. Find him and make peace with him. If the only peace he'll accept comes at the expense of an all-out brawl, then forge your peace that way -- but do it somewhere where the humans can't see you.

"And before you say it -- I know he started it. But you're an Alpha with a strong totem, and he's a metis without a pack. That puts the responsibility on you for keeping your relations civil."

To Joey, then, "Good. I haven't seen Leaves No Trace for months. That either means he's doing a very good job or a very bad one. I suspect we'll find out which when you challenge."

[Simon Zahradnik] He nods his head and shrugs his shoulders."Dark Sky has largely been based in Lake View but we're at war. I'm not gonna fuck around or fuck with someone's territory but for the most part I go where I am needed. If that is Bronzeville then that is where I will go. If that is the middle of the ocean... That's where I go too. Cept space... I don't do space. You want someone up there get a Glasswalker they love that kinda crap anyway."He corrects at the end. It was his way of cracking a little joke.

"I've been doing some hunting and searching on my own... But it's hard without proper organization and orchestration between packs to really gain much ground. So if you want us to start working together I have no problem doing just that. I'd much rather we head more in that direction anyway... Not gonna help any of us if we bicker about who gets to defend what side of town when our enemies are united against us."He says with a little nod of his head. He's apparently already in agreement with this as it seems to be something he's been thinking about already.

"If any pack needs us we stand ready to respond. If not the rest of my pact then you can sure as hell bet that I am ready. Anytime anywhere..."He says with a sharp nod of his head.

[Matthews] "I'll sort it." He confirms with Lukas in response to his relations with the new metis Modi and that is the end of it. His eyes shift to Simon to listen to him talk. Man can he talk. It just so happens though that the topic is of interest to the Alpha of the Vanguard.

"Don't mind help in ma' hood if I know's bout' it. Don't liken no surprises when it comes ta' shit like that. We should have'a sit down sometime, keep up healthy outlooks n'all that for when the shit hits the fan."

That's all he has to say about that really. His eyes go back to Lukas.

"Well ya' know what ya' got in ya' corner. When the time comes we'll be up there, just like our name. Ain't nobody gettin' in and out like The Vanguard."

His eyes go to Joey, then back to the War Leader and Simon. An obvious raised eyebrow. That all?

[Lukas] "I know," Lukas replies, and then gives both Hunter and Joey a nod. The dismissal couldn't be clearer if they were all in uniform and saluting. The big Shadow Lord turns to his tribesman instead, his hands sliding into his pockets as he tilts his head toward the parking lot.

"The humans inside are too jazzed up for us to talk in there. We'll have to talk in the car." He takes his keys out, tosses them to Simon. "Give me a minute to grab a coffee and I'll be right out."

[Matthews] And that is that.

"Last one home has ta' do dishes." He says to Joey, and makes a bolt for his car.

[Oliver] Hunter bolts for his car, Joey just watches him go. She turns to Lukas. "Later, Lukas." No rhya. Feels so weird.

She doesn't run for Cassius. She doesn't have to.

[Simon Zahradnik] He watches the other two leave with a silent and Empty look on his face and then he watches Lukas through the window. He wasn't going anywhere... He would wait and do as he is told/directed by his elder.

[Oliver] [woo thanks for the scene, ya'll!]

[Prayers to Broken Stone] People in Lake View are accustomed to seeing some strange things.

Sometimes, usually when there's a full moon in the sky some really odd occurrences happen, too. Tonight there's barely a sliver of one left yet it didn't stop the Ahrouns having a fist fight in the middle of the Cafe. It also doesn't, apparently, prevent a Fianna Galliard from appearing around the corner of a block covered in drying black goop; it dots his coat; the shirt beneath which was some lurid colored abomination that set off the uncanny blue of the Fiann's eyes.

He's broad-shouldered, bares the breeding of a son of Stag and is accompanied by a Silent Strider who, while not as coated in grime as he, also bears the signs of a recent battle. The blond has his hands in his pockets; his eyes downcast; though every now and then he raises them to glance at his companion and frown.

He does not slow down, as they come upon the Cafe. Or seem to care, particularly, if he gets the odd glance, an up and down of uneasiness.

[princess] Asha is napping in the backseat of Lukas' car. It's almost sweet. Her dark head is pillowed in a cloud of gleaming back hair, and she's curled up in a fetal position - sleeping the sleep not of the dead, but of wolves - which is to say, she'll be deeply asleep until she's startled awake by movement outside.

And then she will be immediately, utterly awake.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She's walking along at Patrick's side, in a much better mood from the looks of it than the Fianna. "...don't worry. You loosened the lid of the jar, so to speak. I just finished it up." Whether Patrick was worried or not about that may be a completely different story, but she's putting it out there anyway as they walk along. If Sarita is worried about what people think of her and Patrick's odd appearance, she sure as hell isn't showing it. In fact, when someone on the corner gives them a strange look, she pauses turns her head in their direction.

"OIL! Go tell J.P. Morgan, we struck ]black gold! Texas tea, right here in River City!" The now thoroughly-wierded out person gets the excuse they need to escape their rage, and Sarita grins and speeds her steps to make up the small amount of lost ground.

[Lukas] Lukas is back outside in record time. It seems no one in the cafe wants to delay his order. He's fasttracked to the front of the line, and then his drink is fasttracked past a row of empty waiting cups. Two, three minutes tops and he's coming back out with a steaming cup of joe in hand. If he's surprised to see Simon still waiting, he doesn't show it. He tilts his head toward the car, holding his hand out for his keys as he goes.

The front doors unlock. Asha comes instantly awake, and then Lukas climbs in, depressing the car on its shocks.

"Have you met Asha? Asha, this is Simon Bone-Grinder, my tribesman, fellow Ahroun, and current Wyrmfoe of the Sept. Simon, Asha K&+257;lar&+257;tri, my packmate, also an Ahroun."

[princess] Too bad Thomas wasn't asleep in the front seat. He'd introduce Asha properly. Instead, she's to be contented with two names and a moon-sign. The creature straightens, pushes a hand through sleep-tousled hair and yawns once, revealing perfect rows of sharp white teeth before she snaps her mouth closed and shakes free of the lingering hints of sleepiness, chasing them from the edges of her consciousness like cobwebs burned from the darkest corners of the room.

"Hi." Asha says, making a mental note that they've not been properly introducted. Keeping it mental so as not to shame her Alpha.

[Simon Zahradnik] Simon follows... Why Lukas would be surprised if at all would be beyond him! The Full Moon had asked him to stay so they could speak! It would actually be rather impolite to disobey his elder like that would it not? Still he walks to the door and glances in at the sight of Asha. He smiles a little and he nods his head...

"She distracted a dragon for me once... But Adam scared it off before I could strike the killing blow. Ruined what woulda been a great story to tell my eventual children about their father. Still we made it out alive so it's all good!"He says with a grin."It's a pleasure to meet you Rhya..."He did not know if she was his elder or not, the rank was not mentioned but she was Packmate to his alpha so he opted for respectful.

His smile showed as he looked her over. Cautious and curious to see if she recalled that little bit of history.

[Prayers to Broken Stone] She's trying to comfort him about the gigantic garden worm from Hell they just slaughtered and set on fire in Bronzeville; and the Fianna walking at her side slants her a rather incredulous look, and punctuates it with a snort. It's good natured, though, at least as good natured as you were likely to receive from Patrick right now.

Ahead of them, a blaze of Rage in the form of the current Ahroun Elder walks out of a Cafe with coffee in hand, and gets into a car where another two Garou sit -- he recognizes the passenger in the front seat, and one of his eyebrows crawls upward a little. "What the Hell," he says under his breath; a mixture of genuine bemusement and irritation.

"They conduct meetings in their cars, now?"

Patrick comes to a stop outside the Cafe, slouches his back against the brick facade and promptly pulls another of Sarita's cigarettes out -- he'd held onto the packet, what a prince -- he lights up; fostering nothing to disguise his interest in what was going on inside the car. "Whose the guy in the front seat with Bone Grinder?"

This, an aside to Sarita, like she's expected to know.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] The semi-sorta good-natured snort from Patrick gets a little twinkle in the mischievous Latina's eye. She's making headway. She pulls out another couple of cigarettes and passes Patrick one before she lights up.

"Who, what?" She looks ahead, squinting a bit at the car. "Oh...that's Simon--obviously--and Lukas. Simon's tribe. Ahroun. Master of the Challenge's packmate, and I think he's the tribe elder if I remember my conversation with him right. I was a tiny bit stoned at the time, but I think I got that right."

[Lukas] It's still warm in the car -- lingering effects of the heater. It gets warmer when Lukas fires up the engine, but they don't go anywhere. He thumbs down the window on his side a little to vent. Too much rage, too much body heat.

"You're both Cliaths," Lukas says, sips his coffee, and then passes into the back in case her highness wanted some. "Anyway, Simon, I wanted to talk to you about taking on a more active role. For a long time Wyrmfoe's been largely a ceremonial role, but you're a Shadow Lord, and we're pragmatists. I doubt you would have taken it on if you didn't want to do something with it.

"So this is the first thing I want you to do. I want you to go around to each pack and assess their combat ability. I don't care if this means fighting them, taking them out to fight with you, or giving them a questionnaire -- as long as you get answers and those answers are reliable. I want to know how good they are, and I want to know if you'd classify them as scouts, warpacks, or something else altogether.

"Then I want you to start training Garou who need training. I don't expect a Child of Gaia Theurge to be at the caliber of a Get of Fenris Ahroun, but I want everyone in the Sept to be competent."

A pause, another sip.

"I know you wanted to take a bigger role in actually getting packs to mesh, too, but I'm going to put someone else on that. Maybe Joey, if she wins her challenge. It's not that I doubt your conviction, Simon, but you're a warrior. A weapon. Social graces aren't your strong suit, and you've got a strong, polarizing personality. Someone like Joey, someone who gives off the impression of being laid-back and easy to talk to, will ruffle feathers much less as she goes around sussing out conflicts and how to mend them."

[princess] Naturally, Asha assumed that Simon addressed her as -rhya out of natural deference to her breeding, her blood, her tribe. She nearly tells Lukas that when he mentions it, but thinks better of it when he passes his coffee back to her highness.

Lately, she's preferred her eminent highness, thank you very much. So: her eminent highness takes a deep drink of coffee, mouth curling. It is perhaps here that Lukas might rethink giving that girl caffeine.

Still, she flashes him a winning grin, all razor-wide, all white teeth - and bounces experimentally on the back seat. "That's good," Asha tells Lukas, opening the back passenger's door already. "I'm gonna go get it in Super Extra Venti with a double-shot and some chocolate sauce. Be right back!"

[princess] (this is liz going to bed! night guys!)