Showing posts with label August. Show all posts
Showing posts with label August. Show all posts
[Rain McKellar] Rain's arms are crossed low over her middle. Her expression is somewhat anxious, but when she looks up to August as the other Gaian speaks it is with as much support as she can muster in this tense environment.

[Carter Roth] Carter frowns deeply at Balance Without Faults words and he shakes his head, an angry look flitting behind his eyes.

[Balance Without Fault] -- and the eightball comes back to Balance.

"I'm sorry to hear you've been so ill-used by your former mate, August. Tell us the name of this Garou so that we all know his dishonor."

The eightball goes back to August.

[Dibs list is currently: August, Matthieu, Danicka, Delilah.]

[August Grant] "Paul Kellogg. He seems to have .. left.." She'd rather use the word fled.. "the city." And once again, the eight ball is passed on.

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget stands at the doorway, listening to the conversation while munching on part of a sandwich. The tightness to her muscles and the smirk on her face expresses her discontent with the line of conversation. She takes a glass of ice water over to Carter and leans against his side. She offers the frigid beverage to the other kin, the corners of her mouth turning in a slight smile, an expression that simply says: here.

[Kora] Kora listens as Rain says her piece; her arms tighten when Balance Without Fault directs her to see to Izzy's complaint. The look she gives the Grand Elder is direct, her expression ironic, but not wry. When Carter speaks, the heavily pregnant Fenrir audibly rolls her eyes (seriously, Nash can [i]hear/i] it). She flashes him a look when he speaks up. Except for the obvious tension, the expression is quiet, animal, unreadable.

[Starla Navarro] Starla clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, shaking her head. She looks over her should at Kora, catching the eye-rolling expression of the Jarl. She turns back in her seat, shifting closer to Rain and draws a comforting arm around the kin's shoulders, hugging her.

[Jackson Montgomery] [[Add Jackson in after Delilah]]

[Derek Anderson] Derek listened, standing near Rain, August and Jackson. He owuld have loved to stand with people from his tribe but Sasha and Katherine weren't there, Gabriel wasn't invited and he didn't rally knewMatthieu except glimpsing at him at the loft the other night.

He looked relax, hands in his pockets. He had nothing to say about all this really. He has been well treated by his Tribe, other Garou and kinfolks he has met. Well Remy was a jerk but even then, it went pretty ok when he met him. He knew some people had problems with Garou, that some had bad experiences in the past. He wasn't one of them. Maybe it'll come, maybe he'll be like Izzy or maybe not. But for now, his life was good.Maybe he didn't need much, or maybe it was his upbringing, butr he was..ok with the way things were.

[Joey] When the meeting first came to order, Joey sat looking slightly away from the circle, her head moving nearly imperceptibly to the beat of some rhythm in her head. As soon as the eight ball started going around, though, her attention was on the people in the room, her dark eyes moving from speaker to speaker. For the most part, she just watches, listening attentively. She's silent, even when Izzy speaks up about her punishment, though there's a tension to her brow, a slight downward turn to the corners of her mouth. The frown doesn't leave her face, in fact worsens, especially when August speaks up, the kinswoman so obviously pregnant. Joey knew her mate, knew him for the filthy son of a bitch he could be, and not for the wisdom he supposedly held in the Nation. The fact that he would abandon his mate was hardly surprising to her, but infuriating. Wasn't August the girl he'd once mistaken Joey for? What a prick.

[Carter Roth] Carter takes that glass with a nod to Bridget as great a thanks as he could give at the moment, and sips it, still looking displeased but for now...silent.

[Matthieu] When the 8ball comes his way he stands in his usual regal posture before kin as well as his peers. He takes the time to acknowledge all who choose to look at him with a smile before speaking up and addressing the others present.

"I hear kin speaking about unity, and about working together and about organization. So allow me to speak up and please do hear what I have to say."

"Harrier's Grace was founded under the idea that the Mortal world is an important one which we garou have little direct grasp upon. In the heart of a city as large as Chicago we stand in an awkward position where mundane threats could see us utterly destroyed without the means to address them."

He takes the time to look over faces one by one.

"You wish to take part in the nation. You wish to take an active role in the pursuits of your own people then now is your chance. Harrier's Grace was founded specifically with the Kin in mind and with time and your assistance we should like to see that all are both cared for, as well as allowed to take an active role in this nation's happenings. We need eyes and ears, additionally we need faces and talented minds."

"The Mundane World is your world and if "We" the Garou are to control it we need our kin to stand with it. So any who stand ready to take an active role in a pack who will share in it's endeavours with all Garou and Kin who take part please step forth after this meeting."He smiles a little to everyone present.

"I do not wish this to be a recruiting event for a pack but what I am hearing is that Kin would like a chance to take a more active role in their society. This is what Harrier's Grace was formed with the intention of seeing through. So it remains relevant to the situation."

He then looks around at the others involved.

"We are one nation, we cannot exist without the whole of that nation working in unison. Our kin are our support network, our homes, and our families. Whatever one feels of their unique and individual position within this nation know now that we are not oblivious to the plight of our kin. We live and die with the hope that our people will remember us and more than anything our people are our kin."

"Perhaps we do not always show the proper deference or respect but we have a very difficult job."He then turns his attention to Izzy."When our kin stand and denounce us as if we have somehow broken some sacred vow it comes as a potent and dangerous blow. There are warriors in their graves at this very moment who have died defending the kin of this sept. I also promise you right now that if you were in danger there are at least one or two garou in this room alone who would stupidly rush off to their own deaths in order to rescue you. Remember this when you find yourself doubing the importance our kin hold to us."

"In the end we ask of our kin nothing more or less than we ask of ourselves."He says with a hint of a smile back at the kin."In the end we must all stand ready to give everything for this nation if that is what we must. That cannot be negociated it simply must be."

[Balance Without Fault] [Current dibs list: Danicka, Delilah, Jackson]

[Kora] (dibs!)

[Balance Without Fault] [and for the record - applying a -2 honor hit to Paul's sheet for getting publicly denounced before auspice and tribal councils, plus half the city's kin, reduced him to subcliath status. normally i wouldn't announce minor renown tweaks, but in this case it's a fairly substantial change in how other chars would perceive him.]

[Balance Without Fault] [...if, y'know, the char ever gets reactivated *LOL*]

[Balance Without Fault] [last OOC note! if your character holds precedence and wants to use it, make a note in your dibs-calling so i don't have to ask individually!]

[Danicka Musil] [I'm almost there! Sorry for the wait!]

[Danicka Musil] It's as though she had mental notes. Danicka gets the 8-ball after the Galliard Elder and speaks up. Directly, in fact, to Carter Roth.

"I know what you can do," she says plainly, and simply. Maybe even gently, though her voice is levelled directly at him in public. "I also know, and I am the only person currently in this room who knows as well as you do, what it means to be raised as a Kin of Thunder.

"The Garou will never see you as their equal. You may be able to heal with a touch, but you will never be able to fight as well as they can. You will never know what it is like to enter a new body and hunt on all fours. You cannot cross between worlds at will. You will never share a full measure of their power, and so you will never be seen as their equal." She pauses a moment. "You say you will not work for the Nation without equality. You will never get it. And in this way -- knowing what the stakes are, knowing what we all stand to lose -- you are more selfish and dishonorable than any Kinfolk in this room.

"Even in human government, if you ally insults you and will not yield, will not compromise, those alliances end, often bloodily. So too will your connection to the Garou you want to treat you as an equal. Work with them or work alone, but do not get in their way or you will be cut down. We aren't fools, Mr. Roth, not raised in our tribe. Amunet is trying to find a way to decrease our marginalization. And if you want to be involved, at some point you will have to submit to another's leadership -- and it might be Kin, but ultimately it will be to the Garou. Suck it up or get out of the way."

A pause. She looks at Amunet. "You do guard the alliance jealously, Amunet. Bridget is right about that. You seemed secretive even to me, when I tried to show you nothing but support and interest. You need to work on that attitude, or all your efforts are going to be in vain. When you come to this meeting and then break the rules, you don't show yourself as a very good leader for Kinfolk, much less someone the Garou might listen to. I want this to work. By god, believe me, I want this to work. But the Kinfolk have to grow up. We all have suffered, but not a thing is going to get done til we all get over it for the sake of the greater good. And those of you who can't do that, whose angst and baggage is too much to let go of, I don't even know why you bothered to show up."

She takes a deep breath and exhales it slowly. "The last attempt at a coalition of kinfolk failed because the Kin involved wanted it to be some kind of perfectly equal democracy, and that will. Not. Work. Even Garou have to follow orders they don't agree with sometimes. We do too, if we want to be of any real use at all."

[Balance Without Fault] [delilah, jackson, kora, and then BWF is retaking the ball!]

[Kora] (drop Kora from the list, pls!)

[Carter Roth] Carter meets Danika's gaze and he shakes his head at the woman. Before flipping her the bird, he might not have the 8 ball, so he won't speak, but the message is clear enough.

[Delilah Marciano] When the 8 ball finds its way into the Glass Walker's hands, she holds it up, gives it a good hard shake. She stares at the rubber triangle for a second; the curve of her generous mouth etches into a thinly veiled frown.

"Will this end well?" Delilah asks the ball, "Maybe."

She turns her eyes up to meet the Grand Elder's gaze for second, tilting her head to watch the rest of the room. "This, esteemed rhya, is the breeding ground for the discontent. You ask us for our opinions, you tell us to lay our grievances out into the open, so that we may be heard, so we may have a voice..."

A beat, her body shifts, rolls the plastic ball between her hands, "What is this all for? To what purpose will listening to our bitching serve you, in your judgment of us? They are unhappy, they expressed this, and yet, it will not change. We all know this - you said it yourself, it's not a democracy."

She shakes her head slowly, "Amunet is trying to organize an alliance, it has been said by Ms. Musil, it will not work. There is no organization, this is like trying to herd cats, they won't cooperate without first laying a foundation. Training kinfolk in self-defense and first-aid will do very little against a monster breathing down their necks. If the Wyrm wants to kill us, it will do so."

"The best efforts of the kin, if they wish to come together and organize, is to take a step away from the front lines, and work behind the scenes as we are meant to do. With our mortal influences, our skills, and our connections. We are the first line of defense in covering up the messes that the Garou like to make in the mundane world."

With that, she shrugs her shoulders and hands the ball off to the next person that so desires it.

[Kora] (change my mind still keeping dibs!)

[Danicka Musil] Carter flips Danicka off. She shrugs at him and gestures to Danny that she'd like an ice water.

[Balance Without Fault] [bwf takes the ball!]

[Izzy Montoya] She looks around and finally grabs a glass of ice water, and taps her ashes into it. It'll do for now. It also serves to keep her expression hidden for a moment.

It's likely a good thing.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[Did he cut or did I lose my turn? :) ]]

[Holden] [cutteR!]

[Balance Without Fault] [he totally cut.]

"First and last strike for you, Mr. Roth."

Then, to Delilah:

"I was actually about to address that. I've got a few things on my agenda tonight, and we're still on number one. I'd like to hear specific concerns from kin first and settle them as I can -- so frankly, Garou and kin of Maelstrom, we're starting to get a little off topic with all the philosophy.

"After that, I've got two incidents I want to go over. After that, I want to discuss and settle certain issues with the coalition itself.

"Let's get back to the kin. Specific concerns, bring them forth."

-- and on to Jackson.

[Gina McClaren] *Gina's heard enough, and she who had a voice designed - accent and all - for other's pleasure in her speaking - had nothing nice to say. So like her sweet pikey mother had told her with a rap of knuckles across teeth -

"Effen ye've naethen nice tae say, fer christs sakes jes shut yer fookin crumbhole."

She moves towards the kitchens, bumping past the folk in the door with a low sung "Oot the road please" - before moving to fuss with the food there, warming what had grown cold, cooling what had grown warm . Taking a hefty slug from a dented flask drawn deep from the V of dark cleavage. Liquor finally offered to Bridget and Carter in turn.*

[Carter Roth] Carter grimaces at Balance without Fault and shakes his head at the man, he does not however flip the man the bird. He simply looks to Bridget who was standing by his side looked back to Balance, and dropped his water letting it clatter to the floor loudly, maybe even shatter. He looked around at his fellow kinsman, all who had come here with the understanding that they would be free to speak...obviously that was not the case.

Before he turned and walked out a brief nod given to Gina and her alcohol.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] He takes the 8-Ball with a respectful nod. Yes, he is a good kin. Mostly.

"I had one more concern to bring up, Rhyas. It seems like...and I don't think this is an endemic issue, but I've seen it a couple times now...some Garou try to instruct kin who...well, really shouldn't be. And I know people may wonder what right I have to say that. But I grew up in a family that was blessed. Both of my siblings were Garou. My father was an Ahroun. I like to think I know a fair amount, though not everything, about certain matters. I won't give a ton of examples...but one I specifically recall is that a kin, new to our city and rather wet behind the ears, was witness to a Thrall frenzy that took place here. I was present and got the kin to safety...after I left, said kin was told by a Garou that in case of a frenzy, playing dead was a good idea. As if a Garou who was in frenzy, especially Thrall frenzy, would just leave them alone if they were lying prone and pretending to be dead."

He pauses, trying to figure out how to word this without seeming disrespectful. "To be honest, I was dumbstruck when the kin told me this. It's...really bad advice, to say the least. I've passed it on to Roman, who has passed it further on...but it seems like some Garou could use some kind of instruction themselves before they're taking kinfolk under their responsibility."

He hands it back to Balances-Without-Fault.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[Oh fuck. You know who that was supposed to be. :P ]]

[Danicka Musil] [*points and laughs at samael*]

[Nash] [I for one am proud of Sarita and wish him all the best.]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[I'm working and shit and it was bound to happen eventually AND LEMME ALONE! *mock cries and runs away* Okay nah, it's funny, ngl]]

[Balance Without Fault] Over behind the bar, Danny suddenly blurts out a cough that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. He claps his hand over his mouth and holds up the other. "I know, Mr. Balance. First and last warning. Sorry." And he mimes the zipping of his mouth.

Balance, for his part, takes the ball and answers Jackson directly. "Do you or does anyone know the name of this Garou?"

The ball goes back to Jackson.

[Quinn] So far, Quinn hasn't had anything to bring up, no concerns or grievances to air. For the most part, she keeps out of the way, helping where she can but generally staying under the radar. But when someone says the advice given in times of Thrall was to "play dead," her blue eyes widen, then her fine dark brows constrict.

When she rises, it's not to intercept that passage of the eight ball. It's to raise a brow at Carter Roth, the look simply How rude, trail briefly in his wake, and bend to retrieve the fallen glass of water. She gestures to Danny to bring a towel or something to clean up the water.

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget writes something on a napkin and tucks it into Carter's hand before he decides to shatter his glass all over the floor and make his way out. She stifles a tiny laugh-- it's not at all audible and she turns her face in Danny's direction so she doesn't disturb the conversation-- but it's there.

Gina thankfully offers up some booze, which the Stag kin thankfully takes so she can stifle her grin and shut the fuck up.

[Jackson Montgomery] He takes the ball and seems hesitant to name names at the moment. The information was passed along, but he was given a request. "Kristen. She's a Fianna Theurge who stays here at the Brotherhood...I don't know her last name or her deed name." Handed back.

[Kieran Mondblume] *His eyes widen at that, and he looks back and forth. He frowns, clearly pondering.*

[Balance Without Fault] "Jenny," Balance speaks directly to the woman watching quietly from over by the kitchen door, "can you get a message to Kristen? Let her know a Thralled Homid would sooner munch a dead body than ignore it, and that maybe she shouldn't run around teaching the kin for a while.

"Unfortunately," this is to all, "Garou rarely have time these days to be fully trained before stepping out into the world as Cliaths. The war's too desperate, and we need soldiers. The downside is occasionally we get a good soldier whose education has been a little lacking in certain non-essential regards.

"There's really no way prevent these things from happening. I can't publish a manual of Everything You Should and Shouldn't Say To Kin. All we can do is troubleshoot one incident at a time, so I appreciate your bringing this up."

And the ball goes to Kora.

[Danicka Musil] There's a glance from Shadow Lord Kinswoman to Shadow Lord Elder when Carter leaves. It's hard to read, for those that don't know her -- for those that are, at the moment, invested in other conversations. He might understand. He might not, even as well as he knows her.

Danicka sips her ice water, and waits for the next blowup.

[Gina McClaren] *Gina's expression at the breaking of glass is one of frank annoyance. She stands in the kitchen in her barefeet, and hisses irritation. Singing lowly to bridget - yes.. without the 8-ball.*

Trade ye tha sip o' firewater fer yer gi'en tha broom, Bridget darlin. Dinnae fancy me bloody feet on account o' foolishness, aye?

[Balance Without Fault] [wait, is Kristen there? i see her logged in. i know patrick's the fianna alpha, but jacqui ain't here tonight. well, if Kristen's here, BWF would speak directly to her.]

[Balance Without Fault] Danny, meanwhile, is hurrying over with dustpan and broom. He shakes his head mutely at Gina and Bridget, forefinger to lips, waving them off. The message is clear: I got it!

[Kristen Burke] ((I was told that Kristen was not allowed to be here As such she has not tried to speak or rebut what was said about her.))

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget moves to action, sets her glass down on the bar, and helps pick up Carter's mess despite her amusement. It's alright, the movement gives her something to do. She shakes her head at Danny and helps him anyway.

[Balance Without Fault] [OK, I just saw Jacqui sign on, so I guess Kristen wouldn't be there after all. Assume Jenny sends her a polite note repeating what BWF said, only a lot nicer and reflexively-apologetic!]

[Gina McClaren] *Gina remains in place. You know. So as not to step in glass with the bare feet. But Danny gives her the shush and she raises an eyebrow in a clear expression of "Oh Enough." An incredulous shake of her head mirroring the Fianna's.*

[Quinn] Quinn's gotten most of the bigger chunks gathered carefully into one hand. When Danny arrives with dustpan and broom, she smiles warmly and rises to carry her burden to the nearest trash bin, which happens to be in the kitchen. When she comes back out again, she weaves around the outside of the circle to return to her seat.

[Kora] There's something - implicitly feral about the heavily pregnant Garou tonight. She's standing, not sitting. She should sit. Some of the people tonight are long winded - not telling stories, not remembering deeds, not discussing the dead - just talking.

Those closest to her can feel her restlessness like ozone in the air around her. It does not take much to bring it forward these nights, careful as she has to be now, pregnant as she is. Alone here tonight, her brother - her Godi - gone, her beta in another Sept, seeking his own tribe for challenge.

By the time the eight-ball comes her way, Carter is gone. Her dark eyes follow his path through the room; she catches the scribbing Bridget does on a napkin, watches until the kinsman has left the restaurant.

The creature's generous mouth flattens then. Whatever she meant to say is distilled down to this: "I have kept my territory open to all tribes, Garou certainly, kin more so. It's unreasonable to expect you to live in a city and somehow keep track of our changing, Balkanized territory. But, Wyrmbreaker-rhya, that man is barred from mine. I trust you will pass it on to him."

[Kieran Mondblume] [Dibs?]

[Balance Without Fault] [back to BWF, then Kieran!]

[Honor's Compass] Katherine and Patrick both here, somewhere, and their player is very apologetic for being tardy! She suggests Katherine is looking very pretty in white standing somewhere near pack-mates and as well as Balance Without Fault and Patrick is over yonder possibly looking confused -- also in a very pretty way, albiet more masculine -- or simply bored.

Carry on!

[Adamidas] She opens her mouth, then closes it. Her attention seems to be intent on what is going on, and before she can really say anything, the Fury turns her head in the direction of... something. Slightly to the left. She gives the Grand Elder a look and taps her chest with two index fingers, then gestures behind her with her thumb.

Whatever that look says, it must be important. If given the okay, she slips out as quickly as she enters. Just as understated, and punctuated with a pop.

[Balance Without Fault] Though Carter's departure didn't provoke an immediate response from the Garou named for his balance, it's remarked on when the ball comes back into his possession.

"Wyrmbreaker, your kinsman disrespected this gathering again with his dramatic departure. See to it. And let him know that his antics only resulted in the very kin he professes to champion scrambling to clean up his mess."

He nods to Adamidas, then, before continuing.

"At this point I'm going to make a last call for kin to bring forward their concerns. If there's nothing else, we're moving on."

[on to Kieran! and if there are any more kin concerns, call dibs now cuz BWF is about to move things along]

[Quinn] [dibs because I gotta get something out in case I have to bail before the end!]

[Wyrmbreaker] Wyrmbreaker nods mutely to Kora and and Balance, the second nod deeper than the first. Then he gets up, leaning over to murmur briefly to Danicka before excusing himself from the gathering.

[Kieran Mondblume] *He pushes up, and then he takes the eight ball, shaking it idly.* Clearly, if he's getting pissed off enough to drop a glass onto the ground and leave, something screwed up happened to him in the past. I think that's part of the problem. We can't fix these problems without years and years of therapy that we don't have time for.

*He tosses the eight ball to his other hand.* But I will say, I've noticed every kin has their skills and talents. I don't think I'm alone in saying, I'd like to hear about those instead.

[Quinn] The tall Fiann has retaken her seat now. It should be noted that she's wearing clothes, and they're probably pretty nice, and probably includes a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal the tattoo on her right arm. Nothing fancy, just some cool looking birds.

Anyway!

She sits up a little straighter when there seems to be a lull, lifts her chin, and indicates she'd like the magic eight ball next. When it comes to her, Quinn doesn't shake it to read her fortune, though she does smile a little down at it before standing to address the assembled.

"Hello," she says, her voice warm, and still carries a touch of a Baltimore accent. "I'm Quinn, I own The Winchester tavern up in Lake View. Some of you might've heard of it. Like The Brotherhood, we've only got kin on staff, so it's a safe place. If any of you are in the area and find yourself in need of a place to rest or otherwise recuperate for a while, the doors are open. To Kin and Garou alike." After that, she rolls the ball from one hand to the other, says, "That's it," and passes it down the line rather than tossing it to the grand elder.

[Nash] The Jarl is understandably restless. On this side of the bar, the Fenrir are all standing; Nash looks like he probably ought to sit down, but for the moment, he's still on his feet, his right arm held up against his midsection while bruised eyes watch the proceedings--silently, now that that first [and last] outburst is over with.

There is a lot going on, between Strider and Lord Kinfolk slamming out and slamming glasses. Nash, unlike many others, doesn't have to stifle laughter. He glances around, then finds a place to rest his eyes when Kora starts to speak. He looks back at her when the Uktena speaks, as if looking for something, but he doesn't lean over to whisper or anything else that might be considered disruptive.

[Delilah Marciano] Delilah sighs; she steps away from the table glancing around at the assembly one final time. She has heard enough, and the Grand Elder has yet to get beyond the first line of questioning. She turns away, slipping off in silence towards the back entrance of the Brotherhood' hand retrieves her phone, texting her driver to come around to the back side to pick her up as she left the meeting.

[Kora] There's something about the way Kora handled the eight-ball. Held it as if it were a cracked bone, as if there were marrow in it - rather than likely toxic water locked behind a window with catchy sayings on a plastic weighted die by children chained to extruding machines in some unlikely backwater of Guangdong province, China.

That sense of animal lingers around her. Her hair is pale, fine-stranded, her skin equally pale, winter-thing, dark eyes set above sharp cheeks made softer by the extra weight of advanced pregnancy. No matter: the wolf is still visible underneath. As now. Nash glances at her, and she lifts her chin, canting her head, dark eyes finding his with an unerring sort of grace. She holds the look for a quiet moment, then glances away.

[Balance Without Fault] The eightball comes back to Balance eventually, passed hand to hand until someone loses patience and tosses it. Catching it neatly, the Grand Elder takes a drink of water before going on.

"Let's discuss that in a minute, Kieran, when we talk about the coalition some more. I have two incidents I want to go over. Unfortunately, Amunet, they both involve you.

"First up: the Brotherhood defense plans were posted up a couple of weeks ago, and you seemed to have something to say about it. Jenny mentioned you removed the original posting as something of an act of protest." Over by the kitchen, Jenny looks mildly mortified. "What was that about, and has that been settled?"

[Amunet Knezevic] "It was less an act of protest than an act of frustration, Rhya. Again, the perception of being dictated to, rather than being acknowledged as being willing to work together. I apologize for my rash decision, and hope that my actions will not reflect poorly on those who can be held responsible for me."

Her fingers run in her hair, eyes flickering away before meeting BWF's once more. "It has been offered that there be a meeting with myself and those charged with the safety of the Brotherhood. I believe it is just a matter of finding a convenient time for everyone, and then the matter should be settled."

[Danicka Musil] [Dibs!]

[Gina McClaren] *Her flask of corn liquor is reclaimed and settled back in her assets as she steps aside for the exiting Glasswalker kin. Strider kin maneuvering her way out of the kitchen with an eye to the floor, wary for any invisible shards lying in wait for small burnished feet. The kin moves to stand between Leon and Matt, dwarfed by a good foot or more by each. Curvy kin's body language filling in the gaps where verbal communication was not allowed. She leans on Mirror's whisper, floury skirt no doubt soiling his perfectly pressed suit. A painted toe prods Hostile Takeover's knee, accompanied by a wry smile and a roll of eyes. Familiarity and Affection for both, mingled with no small exasperation at the proceedings. Her attention shifts to those speaking.*

[Honor's Compass] [Kate has something to add! How do I -- *hits the buzzer*]

[Danicka Musil] [Danicka yields to the ranked Garou present *gavel*]

[Wyrmbreaker] [dibs order is Kate, Danicka, then probably BWF.]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Sarita doesn't fail to notice Gina's brief interaction, such as it is, with Leon. Her eyes narrow a little bit, watching them, and anyone paying attention to her would notice a bit of bristling. She doesn't speak out, merely watches for a long moment before looking back.

Yeah. She'll be dealing with that later.

[Matthieu] Matthieu made certain to follow the kin across the floor. Whether Gina knew it or not those eyes followed her quietly. She drew closer and closer and even took the chance to squeeze herself between he and his beta. A slight smile grew and he peeked up at the woman with a hint of a smile. She had likely been drinking and was feeling pleasant. Which was surprisingly okay with the Garou who looked up at her with familiar eyes.

He didn't speak however, simply welcomed her to join if she pleased.

[Leon Davenport] Finally something interesting happening to this meeting And no it's not an angry kin storming out or incidents involving one with the Broho'splan or anything else. No, it's the presence of a beautiful caramel skinned Strider kin, moving between him and his Alpha.

Shelean into Matt and that makes him smile, a genuine rare one from the Ahroun these days. Then she prds hm and the smile grew wider. He kept hi hands in his pants pockets, his smile turning into a grin. Then his piercing blue eyes were back on the meeting

There has been no GW kin here that he knew of. After all he knew Delilah only by her GWnet handle. He didn't want any of his tribe's kin getting into troubel tonight. He seem ot have had his wish granted.

[Kieran Mondblume] *His eyes, however, remain on Amy, and the Grand Elder. He looks, very briefly, worried, though it passes rather quickly. Nothing else in the meeting seems to catch his dark eyes.*

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget finally retakes her seat, glass in hand. Her brown eyes shift around the room as if for a second, she forgot where she was. The kinswoman shakes it off and sips the remaining whiskey, her eyes floating somewhere between Patrick and Kieran for whatever reason.

[Honor's Compass] Honor's Compass, who has, up until this moment been relatively silent, merely a formidable presence in so far as a regal Silver Fang of her ranking should be, standing to one side with her arms neatly folded over her chest; her coat open to reveal silk blouse beneath, the designer jeans and knee-high boots.

Immaculate as ever, she somehow managed to avoid it becoming ridiculous; her carefully arranged hair; her glossed lips. It was the animal grace in her that controlled it; the thrill of danger posed by those pale eyes of hers as they sweep the assembly, as manicured nails close over the eight ball.

Her eyes find Sarita's sister.

"If I may, Rhya," she says in her voice, rippling with its hint of french gentility, "I have some knowledge of these goings on. I was approached here at the Brotherhood by Adara, Song of Life, a Black Fury Galliard I believe my Alpha put in charge of the Brotherhood plans, along with Adamidas. She told me of the issues with the Kinswoman."

A beat. "She asked my council, and two sides to this issue were brought before me, one from Garou and the other spoken on the behalf of the Kinfolk by one of Cockroaches Kin." The Fang's lip curves a little, inexplicably. "My sense was that they were working at cross-purposes, here. The Kinfolk, rightly enough, want their say in their own safety, but the Garou have their own notions on how Kinfolk need to be so protected.

My advice was to meet together, and discuss it. I believe this is the meeting Amunet is referring to."

[Nash] With his left hand, Nash reaches up to scrub at his scruffy face when the tiny Indian woman moves across the room and proceeds to cause the blood pressure of at least four Trueborn to spike. He doesn't sigh or stare, but when his hand comes away from his face and returns to his jacket pocket the kinsman glances over at Kora again.

That glance lasts only so long as the silence between active speakers; a few seconds after the regal blonde begins to speak, his eyes slowly drift away to acknowledge her.

[Rain McKellar] ((Rain will stay with the other Gaian kin until the meeting lets out, but her player must go to sleep soon. Thanks, all, for the scene.))

[Balance Without Fault] [night!]

[Danicka Musil] This time, the ball comes to Danicka more easily, since her mate has excused himself from the proceedings for the moment and it seems that Danicka doesn't trust herself to catch the bizarre little toy if lobbed her way. She hears about the defense plan -- something she's only heard rumors of, not the story she just got. She looks at Amunet briefly when she takes the 8-ball, but in the end, doesn't address the Strider kin as she did earlier.

"-Rhya," she says, to Balance Without Fault, "the Kinfolk have tried before to establish leadership amongst themselves before, but in that case and in this one, there's a serious problem with Garou being kept out of the loop." She thinks a moment. "If the Kinfolk want to be heard by the Garou -- to have a voice, for example, in deciding the defense plan for the Brotherhood of Thieves, to have at least some kind of vote in matters that affect them personally, then is there any reason why the Garou in charge of defense for this place should not have a Kinfolk -- preferably a resident -- whose counsel is sought in decisions about it?"

A beat. She blinks those round, green eyes of hers, turning to look at Amunet. "And maybe, if only to limit the amount of suspicion and paranoia and rumors of discontent, maybe an alliance of Kinfolk would have a better chance of success if there is a Garou involved in the proceedings and decisions being made -- not to dictate, not to rule, but to communicate the needs the Garou have to the Kin, and vice versa?"

[Balance Without Fault] Balance listens to Katherine with clear attentiveness; then Danicka.

"It's become increasingly clear to me tonight that some level of constant communication needs to be set up between the Garou of this Sept and the Kin. That's part of what I wanted to discuss when we talk about the coalition a little more. I realize I've delayed the discussion of the coalition again and again, but I'm going to have to ask for your patience a little longer."

He turns back to Amunet.

"There will always be some level of dictation, Amunet. I've said it before and I'll say it again. The Nation is not a democracy. There is one Grand Elder. One Warder. One warleader. One Garou in charge of the defense of the Brotherhood, and one Garou assisting her.

"It's not your place to rebel against that order. If you feel unheard, then speak. You may bring your suggestions up, just as anyone else can -- and it seems that with Honor's Compass's counsel, you intend to do exactly that.

"You may not, however, display blatant insubordination to those who rank over you. And you must understand that the final say still belongs to those charged with the keeping of the Brotherhood. This isn't a kin/Garou issue. It's a simple issue of hierarchy. I would say the same to your sister Sarita, or even to the Philodox Elder."

Balance turns the magic eightball over in his hands, then continues.

"The second point I wanted to address specifically is this. I've heard reports that you were seeking a Garou to ... beat you? And that you would tape this as some sort of instructional video?

"What's the story there, Amunet? I hardly know where to begin."

[Amunet Knezevic] She looks very tired, very suddenly, tongue bitten to keep herself quiet as she waits her turn.

[Kieran Mondblume] *He flinches visibly.*

[August Grant] A brow rose.

That sounded like the single most stupid idea she's heard in awhile.

Was that girl daft?

[Izzy Montoya] She's wanting.... what?! Izzy's head whips about so quickly her hair flies in a semi circle, smacking her in the face while she stares at Amunet with dropped jaw.... only to have it snap shut on the comment not quite bitten back..

"Motherfu..." snap.

She turns, and stalks to the kitchen. She needs a serious drink. Now.

[Quinn] Quinn actually does a double-take, and frowns at Amunet.Her thoughts are similar August's. What would that even teach?

[Kieran Mondblume] *He raises one hand, however, before forgetting himself, and he holds his hand out for the ball.*

[Jackson Montgomery] He blinks as the idea for the original plan comes out in a horribly mangled, telephone version of what was actually discussed. He looks at Balances With Fault, then at Amunet and back, before he takes a [[DIBS]] after Amunet.

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget tenses in her little corner of the world, and the nearly empty glass falls into her lap before she catches it. A slight amount of whiskey and ice bleed into the fabric.

"Shit," she says under her breath. Looking directly to BWF with an expression of apology, she zips it quickly, gathers her skirts, and moves towards the kitchen following Izzy.

[Kieran Mondblume] ((Though I am willing to wait for dibs till after Amy and Jackson have had their say))

[Leon Davenport] Leon blinked a few times, eyes on Amy. Ok...now that was..well..totally crazy even for her. He actually had to look at Sarita with a brow raised as if asking her..what the hell? But he doesn't say anything, doesn't smile or anything. He was mostly, perplexed by all of this.

He had an idea why she'd ask that, but to him it dodn't seem like the right way to do things.

[Danicka Musil] Danicka, in the face of people restraining the urge to curse, of staring, of double-takes... blinks at Amunet. There's no anger, no sudden omgwtfbbq. But surprise. And definite, strong interest in hearing something other than the rumor that Balance Without Fault wants to be explained and clarified.

[Gina McClaren] *Wait - woah.. What? Gina arcs her back away from Matt, squinting at the better bred strider kin across the room. Expression caugt between disgust and disbeleif. She looks up to Matt meaningfully, as if to say "Didn't I tell you? Crazy. Every fucking one of them." That flask gets retrieved and sampled from once more.*

[Amunet Knezevic] "Okay. So" She takes a deep breath. Remember what Stefan said, Ames...

"First of all, it was an idea that was being batted around. Just that. I'm unsure why everyone seems content to run around asking everyone else why I'm doing what I'm doing, but that seems to be the trend. It was considered, it was discussed, and nothing has been done. There's no reason for anyone to assume that it's moving forward.

As for being secretive and not wanting Garou involvement in the alliance, that is simply not true. The Shadow Lord Nathalie has offered her assistance, and I have taken her up on that. I'm not hiding anything. I'm not trying to exclude anyone that would benefit the alliance."

She gestures toward the departing Bridget. "She wants to talk, but she wasn't there for the conversation. She's referring to Adara, the Fury. She asked to be included in the alliance, and when reminded it was a kinfolk alliance, she compared it to the KKK. Jackson was there for the conversation. I'm sure he can back me up. My issue with allowing her to be part of this isn't that she's Garou, it's that she's a shitty excuse for a Garou."

[Quinn] [dibs!]

[Wyrmbreaker] [Dibs is Jackson, Kieran, Quinn right now -- though BWF might cut in line at some point!]

[Quinn] [WHOOPS! That was supposed to be Joey!]

[Amunet Knezevic] [I'm assuming she'll be asked to explain that....]

[Wyrmbreaker] [joey --> jackson --> kieran]

[Kieran Mondblume] ((And Ki gives up his dibs.)) *He lowers his hand again, and then he goes back to listening.*

[Honor's Compass] [Damn it, now Kate has to speak up. SORRY.]

[Wyrmbreaker] [kate --> joey --> jackson --> kieran]

[Matthieu] His eyes meet Gina's own and he looks back at the kin though he doesn't nod. His eyes say enough and he reassures her with a slight pat to the small of her back. Though the Galliard doesn't wish to appear as if he isn't listening and taking in every word. Indeed he was listening to everything that was said. Formulating an opinion on each and every personality that shows itself here tonight.

[Izzy Montoya] She's not long. Long enough to have a shot and pour a second that she brings with her, in time to hear that it was just an idea being bat around, without nay explanation whatsoever. Her jaw tenses, and she finds a space of wall to lean against, setting the glass on the table and lighting another cigarette.

[Jackson Montgomery] [[Officially voicing a request to try to keep a bit closer to the 10 minute posting limit that was established for Dibbers.]]

[Honor's Compass] Katherine's eyes cut toward Amy.

"That is the second occasion I have heard, and the first directly from your lips of insult to Song of Life, Amunet. I do not care who you believe you are, who your mate is or how valid your cause -- you will pay the respect due to a Garou or you will be sending your mate to every door in the Sept to make amends for your mouth.

I said it before, I say it again.

Respectful disagreement."

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget returns soon after, patting at her skirt with a towel. She passes Izzy and takes her seat again, then offers her hand up to speak for the second time.

[Bridget Geroux] [Dibs when it gets her direction]

[Kora] Kora does not glance at Amunet. Her dark eyes track Izzy, though, as she weaves through the room. Then, the creature glances back at Nash. Fine blond brows arch eloquently over her shadowed eyes. Restlessness runs patterned beneath her skin. Even standing still she looks ready to prowl.

[Wyrmbreaker] [joey --> jackson --> kieran --> bridget]

[August Grant] Even though she really, really wanted to be here for this lovely conversation - the pregnant girl's bladder could only hold out so long. So, carefully enough, she made her way to the ladies room .. and then to the kitchen, where she'd find a snack and linger in the door for a moment eating before returning to her chair.

[Joey] The magic eight ball starts to head toward another kin, but the Fostern Rotagar indicates the need for an interception. It goes to Kate first, and when it gets to Joey, she palms it, and inclines her head toward Amy.

"Just t'clarify, this idea," she reaches up her free hand to pantomime air quotes, "was brought to the elders 'cause you'd already gone at least to Burnout lookin' for a volunteer. And when I talked to you about it, everything you said told me you were set on goin' through with it, despite warnings and consequences.

"So you're not bein' called out on it just 'cause someone's followin' some sort've trend."

The eight ball is passed on.

[Kieran Mondblume] ((Ki actually gave up his dibs.))

[Amunet Knezevic] [dibs after bridget, please]

[Wyrmbreaker] [jackson --> bridget --> amunet!]

[Jackson Montgomery] He takes the 8=Ball and steps forward. "Just to provide my own perspective on this idea. Which, at least when we discussed it, was just an idea. It was brainstorming possibilities, nothing more. Amunet asked me, since I was a film student, if there was a way for us to be able to film...not a Garou beating the tar out of a kinfolk, Amy or otherwise. But potential sparring sessions. The reason for this would be that, if we were in a situation where combat was inevitable, we'd be more capable. This wasn't 'Beat the shit out of me and film it and you'll know what it's like to be in a fight. Hell, a Garou could spar with someone in homid and we could film that. These specifics weren't even gone over because it was one three minute portion of one much longer discussion.

"The key was, and what we were discussing, was that if it was done, it would have to be done securely. No internet access to the video. Not multiple copies floating around. Again, this was a big if, and I felt it was conceivably possible, if not a sure thing. No one was setting up sets or anything like that, I wasn't figuring out lighting and camera angles or what lens to use. As near as I knew, Amunet was checking with Garou to see if there would even be volunteers, because if not the rest didn't even matter.

He frowns. "If there was some kind of telephone situation where it wasn't properly communicated, then there you have it. But the idea was far saner and far more brainstorming than that I just heard. Obviously the Veil was our first concern and what we were discussing before any considerations came into play."

[Hunter] [hunter taking dibs after bridget, before amunet]

[Gina McClaren] *Gina's taking a fourth shot. Amazing how much alcohol can disappear into the little Indian woman in so short a period of time. The flask's cap clinks metallic and resolute as its popped on tightly. Flask itself handed to Leon, a flat palm held up, then making an abrupt cutting motion. The fuzziness in her stomach and the hazy tingle behind brown eyes told her anymore would loosen her tongue, and no one wanted that tonight. So the woman who was rapidly becoming a lush entrusts her fire water to the Glasswalker , before settling back against the Silverfang's comforting hand. Her eyes slip firmly shut.*

[Balance Without Fault] [bridget --> hunter --> amunet]

[Bridget Geroux] "That reminds me when Carter took your injuries last time. We all asked you about the bruises and you wouldn't answer. I let it go because you seemed uncomfortable, but if I thought for a second you might want someone to beat you up... What the hell, Amy? How do you expect to display leadership among us with... whatever is going on?"

She stops and shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Amy. That got a bit too personal. But when I saw you talking to Song of Life, I just couldn't hear it anymore. By the way, she has shown nothing but the utmost respect for my crazy ass ways and was one of the very few Garou who has encouraged me to keep doing my work rather than some Garou who have discouraged me from it. Maybe they've done it because they cared, but she is one of the few Garou I'd be more than willing to invite to my own house just to shoot the shit. I respect and admire the hell out of the Garou who treat kinfolk-- even those not of their tribe-- like the family we are. Family might be my whole grievance in the first place."

"My other issue with the alliance is, like Danicka repeated earlier, that it is too jealously guarded, even from other kinfolk. My father, Meuric 'Bear' Geroux for those of you who care about the formality, used to tell me all the time how Septs grow weaker when not even the kinfolk can rely on one another as family."

[Leon Davenport] He looked at Gina with a grin and took the flask out of her hand, making it disapear in his suit's jacket. He nodded to her, letting her know it will be returned to her eventually. Not that it wasn't a big deal if she had something of hers. She had something of him.

So it was with familiarity that he gently nudge her before looking back at those talking.

[Bridget Geroux] [First part got cut off:]
Bridget looks towards Amy with raised eyebrows as she takes the 8 ball, an expression of genuine concern.

[Balance Without Fault] [hunter's up, then amunet, then BWF is taking the ball]

[Hunter] [oh shit browser didn't refresh gimme a minute]

[Danicka Musil] At the bar, Danicka glances at the door, wondering about her mate, and frankly about Carter. She sips her water and returns her attention to the discussion. There's no lightly thoughtful look on her face now. She's quite serious. Bordering, in fact, on visibly tense.

[Hunter] The eight ball gets grasped in one meaty palm and he doesn't stand to speak.

"Amy came to me first I believe, out of any Garou, sayin' she wanted me to do it. I explained this to her at the time but I'll repeat it because it seems ya' don't quite get it Jackson."

A beat.

"For starters, Amy squarin' off vs me in any form is just gonna be a beatin' plain n' simple. That's just all there is to it. Secondly from what I was told the purposes for doin' this was so that kinfolk could get some expertise on how to fight against a fuckin' spiral -- scuse ma language -- n'that she'd want me to fight her not just in human form.

Now I don't know what ya' know bout' spirals but fightin' ya' is about the last thing they're gonna do. It won't be in human form, so sparrin' vs me in homid ain't gonna teach ya' shit. It won't be to kill ya' n'I don't think I need to -- nor should I try to, or am adequately able to -- express just what they'd be tryin' to do.

The flaws of this video been pointed out by my Beta quite clearly to Amy, but from where I stand there's some seriously misguided ideas based on the fact that ya' thought that me puttin' a kin near death would actually help anyone learn anythin' of value against that group'a devils."

There's a beat and then:

"The fact that ya' thought me doin' that could help is, quite frankly, god damn insultin'."

Catfight.

[August] August was still shaking slightly as she walked down the snowy sidewalk. In one hand, the baby carrier holding Ella. In the other, her phone.

Kora's own phone rang. It's caller ID identifying that it was August. She'd never called before.. thus, it was a bit of an odd thing.

[Kora's Cell] "Hello?" A woman's voice in her ear. The middle distance is nearly silent; the hush of rain in the background, falling against stone walls. "August?"

[August] "Hey Kora." A small sigh. "Yeah, it's me. Is this an ok time to talk? I wasn't going to bother you with this.. but it's gone over the line.."

[Kora's Cell] The sound she receives from the other end of the line is affirmative. Quiet. Maybe a bit distant, but made immediate by the method. There's the crackle of interference - something close to a bad connection.

"What's up?"

[August] "Drew.. who says she's one of your kin, showed up at my door last week. She informed me that you wanted me to move in with her, but she wasn't going for that plan, which is fine. However, then she informed me that my choice of housing was inappropriate and that I needed to move out. She even gave me classifieds for apartments. Where she got the sudden notion that -she- was in charge of where I lived is a little baffling."

"But that's not the worst of it. She then continued to berate me about my loyalties and how I can't stand on my own to feet and I need to stop turning to people not of my own tribe, such as you, or Aanon. I don't know where she gets off judging me. I'd never met her before she showed up on my door. She also questioned my parenting skills and told me I needed to live on my own because having people who weren't constants in my daughter's life was bad for me."

"It honestly felt like she was trying to chase me out of the city - to make me feel unwanted and inadequate. I was going to just.. let it go, until tonight. Rain and I were at a coffee shop, she came in - I was polite, but brief with her and she realized I was upset with her.. she then asked me to step outside; which I did hoping to clear it up."

August's voice waivered, as if she might cry, but is holding it back. "She yelled at me, called me a liablity, told me I was weighing the tribe down and that I can't support myself and that I'm just looking for charity. All of which are completely insulting.. especially since I never met her before the other night. That isn't even the worst - she pushed my last button when she told me that I should have used a condom and put her finger in my face." Her tone changed - clearly, she was upset by that.

"Do you know my story? Anyway.. Ella is a child of my first mate, who raped me.. and my second child was my second mates.. so it's not like I'm out sleeping with everyone. I admit that I overreacted and saw red when I grabbed her coat and shouted at her about just how wrong and hurtful that statement was. Sure, I called her a few names - but then she clocked me in the jaw! Drew is out of line. Well beyond out of line. I don't even think she's anywhere near the field anymore. Her behavior is inappropriate and I don't feel like I should have to stand for it just because I knew I could turn to you and Roman for shelter when my heat was out. Does needing heat for two days making me a liability to my tribe or an unfit mother?"

"Kora.. she's out of control. I can't fix this.."

[August] {Adds one bit}

"If Phoenix wouldn't have intervened.. I'm pretty sure she would have beaten the shit out of me.. would would easily risk my baby."

[Kora's Cell] The truth is: Kora listens throughout the whole of it. August is not present to see her reaction. There's silence on the other end of the line, profound and entire. The kinswoman will hear one single breath breathed out through the handset, then the Skald's sure voice cutting through the static.

"I am sorry, August," from a distance, the kinswoman can perhaps detect the rage that flares behind the words. Another pause, another breath, withheld, breathed out. A choking noise, quiet, like someone swallowing a snarl of rage. "Are you alright? And Ella?"

[August] August sniffs on the other end - it might be from the wind on her nose, or the threat of tears, it's hard to say. "Ella's fine. Rain was watching her during all of this. And I'm ok - she didn't hit very hard and most of her swings missed, luckily. She had no right to tell me to tell me I deserved all my problems."

Again, it always came back to: "She doesn't even know me.. so it's even more vicious and vindictive."

[Kora's Cell] "August," here Kora's voice cuts in, incisively. "I asked Drew to share space with you and your family. She wanted employment, and I wanted you closer, where Roman and I could be sure that you were safe. She refused. I did not ask her to approach you after that, and I apologize that she did this in my name. It was wrongly done. You are doing your duty by the Nation and you have to be strong in that, if nothing else. Strong for your daughter, and strong for the child you are carrying now.

"We need them; you understand that, I'm sure. They are the future of the Nation, and you have to be strong - now - for them. Drew is my responsibility. Her actions impinge on my honor, and she - and I - will make reparation for the insults done you. If I have to find a Forseti to discover the truth from her. Beyond that, remember that nothing she says has the power to harm you; don't let her words break off and poison you under the skin. You've been strong enough thus far to survive much; you can survive this, too."

[August] "Thank you, Kora." There was a small sigh of relief as her concerns were taken seriously. "I don't turn to you because I am unable to care for myself - I turn to you because I trust you and I respect you and you and Roman are the closest I have to True family."

"And I really appreciate that you and Roman wanted me somewhere closer and safe and I can work on finding somewhere closer." Even her voice was more relaxed after speaking with her.. she seemed calmer, more at ease.. less likely to have an emotional breakdown which could jepordize the baby. Yes, things seemed better now.

[Kora's Cell] "You do not need to explain yourself to me, August. We'll talk again soon."

August in Winter

[Starla] "Can't see why ya jus' don't hustle up some money from like the tribe or some of yar richer kin. Don't they have money here in the city?"

August mentions the heat's out, it perks the ears of the dusky-skinned girl that was fussing with an air mattress. She seems to get it up on two church benches that she's slung together for a makeshift bed, her blanket falling off her shoulders with a colorful swear of words.

"Whole gaggle of people live here, Miss." her nose crinkles at the sight of the carrier, "Izzat a baby?"

[Roman Turner] His ears turned red first and heat rushed up from his neck turning the mottled burn scars there a deep purple with Starla's question. Immediately his attention went back to August and the baby carrier.

"Mother of God, it's a wonder y'all didn't freeze. Ya should of called me. I'm pretty sure I made sure to give ya my number on a napkin that one night in that cafe with Miss Rain. And yessum, Miss Kora is my Alpha, she lives here most of the time."

He ushered August and child closer to the fire and Starla.

"Miss August, this is Miss Starla, she's a cousin. Miss Starla, this here is Miss August and her baby girl. She's family."

He gathered a couple of blankets with every intention of wrapping mother and child up like mummies.

"Come warm up. Ya can stay here. It ain't fancy, but it's warmer than no heat."

[Miss August] "I didn't know where else to go.. " She muttered as she wandered closer to the fire and eventually set the baby carrier down.

"I don't believe I got your number that night Mr. Turner.. all I recall getting was a strong tongue lashing about how I was an ugly person inside." A beat as she began to unwrap. Her gaze for sure didn't meet his. "I do want to apologize for that evening.. and for everything else that I've done which has caused my family to distrust or dislike me. I want all that nastiness behind us and I hope you can forgive me."

[Miss August] Hazel eyes flicked over to Starla. She smiled a greeting as well as nodded in response to the question about the baby.

[Starla] She plucks at the braid hanging over her shoulder, pale green eyes set in the round features of her bronze face dart between Roman and then back to August, slipping down to stare at the bundle in the carrier. She scrunches up her nose again, her expression growing confused.

"Ya lugged a baby all the way in this snow? Why ain'tcha leave'em wit' ya man?"

[Roman Turner] For a moment his face went completely blank and then he was turning away to tend the fire, hiding his expression. When he spoke it was as neutrally gentle as he could make it.

"Give me your phone and I will put the number in. You are more than welcome to stay, you and the child. Going out in this is sure to cause all your deaths. As for the rest. We live and learn, or so they say. So let's live and learn."

Starla asked her question and he just wished the ground would open and and swallow him whole. Holy Mary Mother of God, the proverbial can was opened and the worms were rushing to come out.

"Her power is out. And the rest is, well I'll let Miss August tell those tales."

[Miss August] "I don't have one, Miss Starla. Bringing the baby with to the heat was the best plan I could come up with for the evening." August carefully began to pull the layers of blankets off of the baby until the light skinned, red haired and hazel eyed infant was staring back up at her, sucking on a fist.

The blonde kin was NOT about to open up that can of worms any further than to simply state there wasn't one. No one ever needed to hear her story again as far as she was concerned. They could make it up for all it really mattered. Maybe their versions would be better.

"The fire feels wonderful, thank you." She offered a soft smile to Roman (back turned or no), cheeks still rosy from the cold.

[Kora] The steps leading up to the church are lumpen with snow, poorly defined except by the patterns of footsteps in the rising mound. Someone's made an effort at shoveling out a path. Someone else went sledding down the unshoveled steps. That's where Kora walks, firmly bundled against the arctic chill, the collar of her wool coat pulled up, her hood over her hair, scarf wrapped around her mouth and chin, hands firmly in her pockets. Snowcoats her boots and higher; her jeans are damp to the thigh from it. The door swings open behind August and there is another abominable snowperson, stamping snow from her boots into the puddle of snowmelt just inside the front door.

Kora does not start shivering until the subtle gradation of temperature hits her. It's too cold outside to shiver, but now that she's thawing out, she allows herself one long shudder, a sharp exhale before she masters herself and starts taking off her winter things. "Roman, Starla, August - " her cold-thinned voice, quiet greetings as she unwraps the scarf. "everything okay?"

[Roman Turner] "Miss August's power went out. She and the baby have come for shelter and I offered hospitality."

He was never so glad to see anyone in his life. Though he couldn't resist asking with the snow covering most of Kora.

"That Yeti snow Ninja didn't get hold of ya, did he?"

[Starla] "Pfft. I done heard ya twice, I git it."

She clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, flashing Roman a cheeky grin, "Always was the nice one."

She bends down to sweep up the fallen blanket, tucking it back around her before moving off to gather up the bedding she and Roman scrounged up earlier, and tosses it on the air mattress.

[Miss August] "Hello Miss Kora.. " August sat down on the pew and scooped the baby up. "I hope it's alright that Mr. Turner offered me a place to stay... I don't have any heat.. and I'd caught rumors that you were staying here.."

[Kora] "Just one of those snow blower's the city's been running to clear the main streets," Kora says, a faint twist of her mouth for Roman. "You're welcome here, August." A brief glance up, at the roof, the broken rafters, then back down at the baby. "Though it might not be too comfortable for long for your babe, with Garou in and out. If your power doesn't come back on soon, we'll put you up with Drew, I think." A brief glance at Roman, then August, "This is Roman's home, too, yeah? It's fine. The kitchen's through the door by the chancel, that's where the rest of the rooms are. There's food there, milk and cold stew, a few other things.

"Roman, make sure to give August a room away from the Garou's dens. And put a heater in her room. If we don't have extra mattresses, she can have mine, yeah?"

[Roman Turner] "I got a couple extra air mattresses today. And if ya don't mind Miss August, I am sure Miss Rain would share her room with ya. Or ya can have mine. I been staying out here anyway. I'll make sure ya have heat and show ya where the bathroom is. We're a little primitive but we make up for it with hospitality."

[Miss August] "Oh.. no.. I couldn't do that. You keep your mattress.. you need it, Kora. I'll be fine. I have a few blankets," namely the ones she had over the baby carrier and then whatever was stuffed into her bag. "I'll be fine. A heater is more than sufficent if you have one to spare.."

She patted the babes back as it cooed. "She doesn't mind the rage all that much - just gets this fussy pants look. I live with a Garou - but he's out of town for a bit.. so she's pretty used to it.. at least in small doses.."

"Please don't fuss over us. We're fine. Just a corner to stay in is more than a enough. We'll try to keep out of ya'lls hair as much as possible."

[Starla] By the looks of the makeshift bed Starla was making out of pews and the air mattress, she seems to prefer this area as well. She shuffles her feet, winter boots that she hasn't taken off since she got there stamping down the ground. She listens to them talk, arching an eyebrow every now and then.

[Roman Turner] "Ya get a room to yourself and some privacy for when ya need it. Ya don't want someone ogling ya when ya feed the baby or nothing. Besides, it will be warmer when ya sleep. Though I'm not saying ya have to go hide in the room or nothing."

He was quick to add that last part.

"We got blankets, Mr. Trent brought more lastnight. And we got some sleeping bags. No need to do without in this Pack."

[Starla] "Ah don't think ah'e ever seen anyone look a gift horse in the mouth and reject it."

Starla shakes her head, clucking her tongue against the roof of her mouth again, watching Roman do his best to provide and fuss over August and her baby. She sits down on the pews, pulling her legs up underneath the blanket and settles it around herself, pulling it up over her head like a robe.

[Kora] Make sure she has what she needs. Kora tells Roman, low-voiced. If she needs a long-term place, we'll put her up with Drew.

"There's plenty of room, August." A supple twist of her mouth, lifting her chin toward the old social hall attached to the church. "More rooms than I can count back there; it's not a fuss. We take hospitality seriously among the Fenrir. It's the old way; northern climates demand that sort of give and take." For the second time in two nights, Kora quotes a passage from the Eddas.

"Fire is needed by the newcomer
Whose knees are frozen numb;
Meat and clean linen a man needs
Who has fared across the fells,

Water, too, that he may wash before eating,
Handclothes and a hearty welcome,
Courteous words, then courteous silence
That he may tell his tale.
"

"Beer's in the coolers if you want it, milk and soda in the kitchen. What's here is yours. Now," a brief pause, as she unbuttons her coat, strips off the outer garments down to her dedicated things. "I need to go see if Linus got that murder of Hrafn flying." One she's stripped off her coat, gloves, hoodie and scarf, Kora fishes a small mirror from her pocket.

One minute she's there; then next she's gone, stepping across the barrier between worlds.

[Kora] (aaand, must sleep! thanks for the scene. :) )

[Kora] get your transcript!
to Kora

Meeting Ella.

[Missed the first several posts. Kora offered Cigney a corn dog. August came along with her new baby Ella.]

[Cigney North] "Oh I couldn't...my hands aren't clean...I mean, I don't have sanitizer..."

But you can tell by her eyes that she's absolutely dying to hold the baby. Cigney crouches down a moment longer, then rises and smiles at August.

"She's absolutely darling. You must be on cloud 9!"

She looks back over at Kora and opens her mouth for a quarter second...before it shuts immediately thereafter. A question perhaps? One she isn't going to ask however. Cigney looks at August.

"Whose Paul? Proud papa, right?" Her eyes are still sparkling.

[Kora] "Good," Kora replies. That August has a place, or that Paul has returned. Or, that the Fang kinswoman has opened her home an offered to do so again. There's this world underneath the reply, distinct and quiet, a gleam in the Garou's fine dark eyes as she offers it. When August thanks her, though, her expressive mouth curves upward, more to the right than the left. "If you run out of options - " Kora responds, quietly, stepping another step back as the two young kinswoman discuss the baby. " - you'll let me know before you go back - "

To Ezra. Or something worse.

"Yeah?"

August offers to let Cigney hold Ella, and Cigney - holding back her desire to gush over the child - sighs, delighted at the infant's name. Another night the Fenrir woman might smile, even indulgently, as the kin coo over the infant. Tonght, she just holds herself apart, watching the pair of them, and their backs, her dark eyes lifting from the two young women to the crowd on the pier.

[August Grant] "I will call you if I run out of options. I promise." She offered a reassuring smile to Kora even as she leaned down to scoop the small baby out of the stroller.

"Oh, it's alright Cigney.. you can hold her. She's a strong little girl - she's got her momma's genes.." As for the father - well, she just doesn't mention him.

"Here.. " She offered the child out to the basically unknown Fenrir kin. If Kora wouldn't have been there, she likely wouldn't have been so open about letting a stranger hold her child. If Kora was here with her, then she could be trusted.

[Cigney North] The rapid breathing returns, and Cigney blinks in amazement at the baby the Gaian kin is offering to her. Her face glows with the warmest smile you've ever seen in your whole life. She then carefully, oh so carefully takes the baby girl into her arms and places the infants head on her bare shoulder, cradling her just so, her cheek gently touching the baby's forehead.

Oh that was it, right there. The warmth and the smell. Pure heaven...

Cigney's eyes close. A look of complete peace and a feeling of joy radiating from the core of her being.


[August Grant] Just as only little babies could do, Ella remained asleep - soft skin and warmth comforted the little one and she looked quite comfortable.

August just smiled. "You're going to make a wonderful mother one day.."

[Kora] "I think you made her night." Kora remarks, low-voiced to August. She does not demand any further reassurances. Just that remark, maybe that reassuring smile from such a well-bred young kinswoman. August's blood speaks for her to Garou, as much as anything else. Kora's hands remain in her pockets. There's standing on a pier, and night has gathered at the edges of the scene, held back by the bright lights of the pier, the rides running along the length, glittering and gleaming. There are other family groups, teenagers, tourists back and forth in the moving throng, enough that her dark eyes keep roaming, watching the constantly moving stream of peopl for any threat.

Briefly, Kora glances at Cigney - the absolute peace radiating from the young woman - then she looks back to August with a faint, lingering thoughtful frown. "Did you have a kin as a midwife?"

[Cigney North] [I need to go after my next post...thanks so much for the scene! I'll make an exit post]
to August Grant, Kora

[Cigney North] [At these words, Cigney opens her eyes a little and smiles at August. A look of regret passes over her face as she then just as carefully returns the baby girl to August. Looking at the infant longingly a moment. There's no response from her, no thank you for the compliment. Just awkward silence.

"It's late and I need to be getting back".

She touches her ponytail absently.

"Please, be careful and I hope to see you both soon".

A gentle look at August, and a respectful nod to Kora before Cigney moves with the people walking off the Pier before slowly disappearing into the crowd.

[August Grant] "No." She shook her head slightly. "There were none that I was aware of. I just went to the county hospital and saw whatever doctor was there that day. I never saw the same person more than once." A small shrug.

August took the little one back and cradled her close while kissing her forhead. "Goodbye, Cigney. Hopefully we will see each other again. Have a safe journey home."

[Kora] "Be safe, Cigney," Kora responds to the young Fenrir kinswoman, lifting her dark eyes to trace the young woman's path back through the crowd. There's a certain conviction in her voice, Kora. She doesn't offer these polite little murmurs to fill space. Be safe, Cigney sounds lik a command.

Cigney hands back the infant, and Kora glances briefly from August's hand on the baby's head, then back out over the crowd as her kinswoman's golden head is slowly lost to crowd, distance, darkness.

August replies that she just went to the county hospital, and Kora's response is a back of the throat murmur. Like that moment of silence when Cigney - neatly evaded August's compliment, there's a moment of awkwardness when Kora glances away, not sure why she asked the questionin the first place. Then, a glance back to August. "Were you meeting someone here?"

[August Grant] "No.. I really, really wanted mini donuts and I know this is the place I could get them." She carefully replaced the baby back in the stroller and tucked her back in.

"Were you meeting someone? I wouldn't mind waiting with you if you were. Or just taking a walk with you if you wanted company.."

[Kora] "Let's get the mini donuts," Kora returns, quickly, easily, as if she were a girl who did things like that. As if she were a girl, and not a Skald, not a Garou, not a warrior of Fenris. As if there were not things lurking in the dark, under the pier, broke things in the crowd shifting around them. As if donus mattered.

- and maybe they do. "I," there's a certain formalism to the Skald, maybe it's just the timbe of her voice. Her sense of the rhythm of language, the way things play together, " - was actually here to meet a corn dog, as I cannot convince Trent that they are one of the thee food groups. But really, mini-donuts sound divine, particularly if they are freshly deep-fried. Then," and this is the important part, the part after eating donuts. "I can walk you back, yeah?"

There's a certain parternalism there. Garou: kinfolk. Garou: kinfolk. Infant, the next generation.

[August Grant] There was no question to August: Mini Donuts DO matter. They matter just as much now as when she was pregnant. Her soft pink lips slid into a grin as Kora spoke of Corn Dogs as a food group. It was perhaps the lightest comment she'd heard the woman make, ever.

"Well, lets get the mini donuts and the corn dog then. Maybe two? One for you, and one for Trent?" There was the difference there - that Kora knew well enough. August was just a young woman. She knew about the icky things, at least in the back of her mind somewhere. But she was by no means focused on it and she could be carefree and believe the best in people. It's probably why she was chipper so much of the time.

"And then.. yes, we can walk back to my car." A beat as she leaned down to make sure the baby was comfortable looking and secure. "I believe I saw the mini donuts just down this way?" She motioned down the pier, into the crowd.

[Kora] "Trust me," the Fenrir returns, in this easy voice as if she were offering a confession. " - he won't eat a corndog. Ever. Not even if I told him to eat it, and then he'd likely spit it out in the back of his hand. I'll grab some donuts, though. I guarantee that Roman could eat a whole bag full."

Roman could use a bag full of donuts. He's a growing boy.

So they walk. August is pushing her stroller. There's a benefit to having a Fenrir Garou around. Kora clears the way, they have an easy path through the shifting crowd, as people find other places to be, remember somethin left behind on a benc.h. As they go elsewhere.

[August Grant] It was kind of nice, actually - having a path cleared for her. She thought things were difficult with a belly - but while pushing a stroller, things were much more difficult.

"That's too bad. He's missing out really. Though I don't really like corndogs too much because the hotdog ends up tasting like stick and that just isn't too good." She made a little face as she pulled the stroller into line for the donuts. "I mean, if I wanted to chew on a stick.. I would."

[Kora] Rather like the crowd, the line for the donuts clears out more quickly with a Garou standing at August's side. It may be difficult for the kinswoman to piece out what the humans feel - that primal sense of fear that seems to open up in so many of them when a Garou is close. Kora is not ragebound, she holds it all back, in easy check, with a strong will and a sort of living confidence that seems both more rooted and older than the primal wash of anger than is rage.

Still, it's there, under her otherwise ordinary skin, pale in the shifting glitter of the pier's changing lights.

"I think I eat them too fast," the edge of Kora's half-smile is wry, " - to ever taste the stick, yeah? Since I never thought of that before. Mind you, I missed stuff like this in Europe. Mindless fast food. Generally, the food there's better - but you can't beat an amusement park or state fair for deep fried things. On a stick."

[August Grant] She should drag a trueborn with her at the grocery store too. It'd clear the lines out quicker, save some time. August ordered two bags of the donuts and paid for it without second look at Kora.

"I've never been to Europe.. what's it like over there? And they don't have food on a stick? Man, they are missing out for sure. A deep fried candy bar on a stick is the best.."

[Kora] "Could you excuse me?" Kora asks, briefly, lifting her chin and looking up over the crowd, with a winging frown curling across her pale brows. "I need to take this call. And, Europe's a pretty big place, but I can tell you about - oh, Barcelona for starters. I'd go back there in a heartbeat, if I could."

Not that she's likely ever to see it again.

With that, Kora ducks away as August waits for the donuts, pulling an inexpensive phone from her pocket, lifting it to her ear.

Miss August.

[Kora] Sunday evening at the Fox and Feather. It was a blisteringly hot and humid day, and the air has barely cooled since the sun went down. No one's out on the patio today except for the odd smoker, smoking their cigarettes quickly, with a sort of fierce efficiency. The usual crowds are thinned as most Americans are off at July 4 festivities.

I'm getting a drink, Kora said to Roman when she ran into him two blocks away, lifting her chin in the direction of the pub. - and some dinner. And, here she offered the kid a faint half-smile, some air conditioning. Join me, yeah?

She didn't warn him that Imogen might be there; although she does stop, pausing just inside the door, using her height to her advantage as she scans the interior of the pub, searching out familiar faces. The lighting is dim and warm, the wood buffed and the brass polished. The air conditioning is a constant, welcome hum, but is a stark, arctic blast after the swimming heat outside.

"You having a beer?"

[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen, one imagines, is not particularly the type of person for July 4th festivities. She does not particularly care for fireworks, has no connection to this day of Independence.

(And in fact, if pressed, might point out that the Declaration of Independence had not even been signed on the 4th, and perhaps whoever was pestering her go find a history book and let her be.)

In either case: The crowds are thinned out, drawn to festivities, and Imogen is in the dining room of the Fox and Feather, a sweating cold beer on the table, a book in her hand. There is no live music tonight; the music is entirely piped through the PA system, some nondescript independent music, a female folksinger sounding like just about every other female folksinger does, at least if they want to be played on Grey's Anatomy.

Kora's eyes scan the crowd and perhaps through coincidence or perhaps through a preternatural perception, Imogen glances up as well. She meets the Skald's eyes across the room, her attention flicking lower to touch upon the young Rotagar. She pauses, unmoving, before absently tilting her head toward the empty chairs across from her in silent invitation.

[Roman Turner] "Sure."

Was his response on the invitation. He was feeling no pain other than acute embarrassment from the woman back at the Broho. So he feel in to step of a sort with Kora and did his best to walk a straight line and not crash in to her backside when she stopped before going in the place. She asked about beer and he said.

"If you buy it, I can't."

Fortunately for him, he was short and couldn't see Imogen just yet.

[Kora] Kora's nods, her generous mouth curving into a familiar, half-turned smile as Imogen tilts her head in spare invitation.

Then, dropping her chin to Roman, "I got you." Her response is low and wry as Roman reminds her that he has a good half-decade before he is legally allowed to purchase alcohol in the States. She gives the kid a look - rather more direct now, her dark eyes narrowed, thoughtful, on his young face. The look lingers, but the question behind it remains unspoken. There's a certain opacity to her dark eyes in such moments, only because she is carefully withholding judgment.

"The doc's over there," she tells him, lifting her chin in the direction of Imogen's table. "Grab a seat while I get our beers, yeah?" They aren't likely to get good service, not, at the least, when the Skald is sitting with them. "I'll be over in a minute."

With that direction, she cuts away from him, insinuates herself in at the bar and summons the bartender with a brief greeting and a rap of her knuckles against the wood.

[Trent Brumby] Trent had a call. Dinner out sounded like a plan, so did a beer. He had left the apartment and went in hunt for the Fox and Feather, enjoying the air conditioned drive on the way through city streets. Parking was easier to find then he expected, and after locking up the car he took his time making his way to the pub. He was healing under the buttoned down, short sleeved shirt he was wearing, but he still didn't push his limits. At least now his movement wasn't as restricted as it was a week ago, it was still tender and warned him about stretching or bending certain angles, but he was able to get back to a relatively normal lifestyle - minus the gym.

Jeans were too hot for outdoors, but the air conditioning of the pub would take care of that the moment he stepped inside. He glanced around for the familiar face that had invited him out, and found her over at the bar. Smiling to himself, he headed towards her.

"Hey Kora," his voice is low and familiar as he approaches by her side, reaching a hand to touch her lower back automatically.

[Roman Turner] She said the Doc was over there. All the color left Roman's face to rush back in the blink of an eye till he was as flushed as if he had sat under the sun all day.

"I um, yessum."

Was his response to Kora before he headed towards Imogen's direction. Along the way he stopped and snagged an extra chair. Fortunately he didn't see the guy approach Kora or he might of been concerned, just a little. Up to this point he knew very little about Kora that did not involve fighting or territories. Like, he didn't know she had a piece on the side.

[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen's gaze flicks toward Trent, his approaching Kora, her eyes lowering to touch his hand on her back. She looks away, not swiftly, but simply, setting aside her book, face down as Roman approaches.

"Not out enjoyin' yer Independence Day?" she asks as she picks up her beer bottle, tilting it up to swallow deep. The label is of some local brewery, the fluid inside is dark and rich.

[Kora] There are three beers on the polished wood of the bar in front of Kora - both a deep, rich chocolate color that catches the low light in the room and gleams with a subtle amber finish - when Trent arrives. Her vantage point at the bar gives her a peripheral view of the front door. Her mouth twists into a faint curl, and she cuts him a sidelong look, just her eyes. "Make that four," she instructs the bartender, pushing back a handful of bills when he brings her her change.

Trent is behind her, then, his hand on the small of her back. She lifts her chin and gives him an intimate half-smile over her narrow shoulder as he joins her, then drops her dark eyes down the line of his body, back up to his eyes. The look is brief, appreciative, and the half-smile deepens as she lifts her gaze again, finding his eyes, and finally returning his greeting with a " - hey you," of her own.

There are four foaming beers on the bartop, by now, and no more money to be exchanged. Kora tilts her head in their direction, "Gimme a hand with these, yeah? There's some folks I want you to meet. C'mon - " With that, she picks up too of the near-to-overflowing drafts (a decent, though hardly perfect pour) and leads Trent through the crowd toward Roman and Imogen.

[August Grant] While a beer wasn't on her agenda, the greasy goodness of bar food was. Onion rings, french fries with seasoned sour cream dipping sauce.. maybe some chicken strips or some nachos.. now that's what brought the young woman here tonight.

Like usual, she was alone. The kinswoman knew it wasn't the best plan to be out alone - but really, she couldn't take sitting alone at the house with Erza any more. Plus, he didn't cook and she just wasn't in the mood for it tonight. Slender fingers pushed the door open and she headed towards the bar for a seat.

The woman was young, early twenties, with blonde hair and bright hazel eyes. The Coggie had enough breeding to make most Garou look twice - but, it was usually the very obvious baby belly ( 32 weeks) that caused them to look away. She wore a knee length pink skirt and a modest enough white top. Her flip flops were sparkly and there was a flower pinned in her hair.

[Roman Turner] "I did yesterday, went and watched the fireworks down Navy Pier."

He politely removed his hat as he placed the chair at Imogen's table and followed her look towards Kora and he went very still for several long moments before he seemed to remember he had been about to sit down.

"Who's that fella up there?"

Finally completing the act of sitting as he asked Imogen about Trent.

[Imogen Slaughter] "Trent," Imogen answers mildly, without glancing back toward the pair. Her beer is nearly empty. She drains it with another swallow. "A half-blood. Beyond tha', I don't know much else."

[Roman Turner] "What's a half blood? He come across the border or what?"

He turned to watch and quickly looked away. Besides the view across the table was better. Infact.....

"I better make more room."

He moved to the seat right next to Imogen, squeezing in another to make room for both Kora and Trent.

[Trent Brumby] He wants to steal a kiss from her, but he finds himself smirking a little instead at her greeting. She's already paid for the beers, which he would have insisted on had he got there sooner and mind sharper. She had distracted him with that look of hers. Now he reached for the other beers, obediently following after her, careful not to spill a drop.

August had received a small smile the moment he noticed her belly, as he passed on by, following the Garou that was heading towards the other two sitting over yonder. He nods to Imogen and Roman, setting the beers down after Kora has done the same with hers and seated herself. It's only after she's sitting does he ease down and sit himself. Despite the groomed scruff on his face and the slightly unruly black mop of hair, he has the air of a gentlemen.

[Imogen Slaughter] She shakes her head slightly. "S'slang fer kinfolk." Roman moves closer to her to give, ostensibly, Kora and Trent more space when they come to the table. The kinwoman casts the young Garou a sideways glance before adroitly shifting further toward the wall, creating a space between them.

August has arrived, large bellied, fertile and heavy with it. The redhead's gaze comes to rest on her briefly. A tendon in her jaw shifts, tightens, then eases, her mouth a too-even line, before that, too, eases.

"Seein' as this is a gathering of sorts," she speaks of this with irony, picking up her book to slip it into her handbag at her feet, "Should yeh invite yer kin?" A lift of her jaw indicates the pregnant Child of Gaia Kin.

[Roman Turner] He rose from his seat when the pair approached and remained standing until Kora was seated. Then with his hat in his lap, he sat again. For a moment his gaze had swept over the pregnant girl he had met before, the one who said the baby daddy had no rights. And even though she could of told him she was 32 weeks, it would of meant the same at 102 to the kid. A big baby belly was a big baby belly in his book. Imogen asked if he should invite August over and why not? It meant he had to squeeze in even tighter to Imogen despite her attempt to escape.

"Howdy Miss August!"

He called out.

"You're welcome to join us!"

His knee bumped Imogen's as he pushed in closer to make that room.

[August Grant] Trent's polite smile was returned - her's was the sort of smile that was sweet, charming and said that she was just a kind person. The young woman made it almost all the way to the bar (she was kinda slow now days..) before she heard Roman call out.

She turned, looking for the young woman. Her gaze finally landed upon him. August smiled brightly and a hand rose in greeting. Fingers even wiggled in a wave. "Hi Roman.." She spoke even as she headed towards their table. Aww, that was so sweet.. inviting her over and all.

[Kora] "Doc," Kora greets Imogen when she reaches the table, " - you've met Trent, yeah?" She's placed the two full beers she's carrying on the warm, polished wood of the table top, and slides them both over, one to Imogen, one to Roman. Both are full, the top quarter of the glass dominated by a frothing head that threatens to overspill the glass with too much jostling.

Then, she takes her seat, folding her body easily into the space available and sliding over to allow Trent to sit beside her. Introductions are briefly interrupted as Roman rises and calls out over the evening's small crowd. When Trent sets down the last two beers, she takes one, her mouth twisting as she glances from Roman to August and back again. There is a certain watchfulness in her eyes,as she looks from the pregnant kinswoman to the young Child of Gaia, then back again.

When Roman as finished the invitation and retaken his seat, Kora continues, still low-voiced as always, "Roman, this is Trent. He's - " she cuts a glance over at the dark haired kinsman, her dark eyes finding his face, her mouth quirked, faint and wry. " - mine." Then, back to Roman, and Imogen, " - my mate, yeah?

"And this is Roman. He and his cousin have been helping me out, right? - since Joe left." The first bit is spoken easily enough, but the last phrase is clipped and short, accompanied by a tight twist of her mouth that she has to work to even out, with the sort of patience and fortitude a fisherman would apply to a particularly intricate knot.

[Roman Turner] He nodded to Trent politely extending his hand.

"Pleased to meetcha."

Though he was in shock that Kora had a mate and he'd of never guessed it. And for a second his mind went places it never wanted to go. Like when he thought about his parents ever having had sex. Ewwwwie!

Then he rose to wait for August to sit.

"Miss August, nice to see ya. Ya know Miss Doctor Slaughter? This here is Miss Kora and her beau, Mister Trent. Everyone, this is Miss August of the same family as my cousin and I are related to."

[Trent Brumby] "Miss," Imogen gets a greeting with a small smile and pleasant nod. He's settled next to Kora, not possessively close or any such thing, casual and ordinary, resting against the back of his chair. When Roman is introduced he offers the younger man a hand across the table, leaning slowly forward in order to do so. "Roman, it's good to meet you," he tells the much younger man. Trent is in his mid to late twenties, possibly the oldest at the table. He won't guess at Imogen's age.

He's also not from across the border, though he does have an olive tan to his skin, but from Seattle instead. After shaking Romans hand he settles back and picks up his drink, which is set back down as he rises up when August arrives. He smiled at her, pulled over a seat from the next table for her.

"Nice to meet you Miss."

[Imogen Slaughter] "Trent," she greets the once-Fury kinfolk mildly, "August." Someone here might mention it's a pleasure once again. If this were a first time meeting, Imogen might keep up the pretext. This time, she merely lets her greetings hang there.

"Might want t'pull up another table, too," Imogen remarks mildly, "Before Roman decides to try and share my chair."

The Child of Gaia Ragabash sits rather within the redhaired kinwoman's sphere of personal space.

[Roman Turner] Imogen's comment made his face flame and it took him a moment to squeeze out a reply.

"I'm sorry Miss Doctor Slaughter, Ma'am. I wasn't trying to take your seat, ma'am."

[August Grant] August made her way through the tables to the one where the others had gathered.

"Hello." The young woman continued the smile, one hand on the purse over her shoulder. "Roman, it's good to see you." She reached over and gave him a brief, friendly hug - she was just the hugging sort of person.

She remained standing.. and decided to stay standing, as Imogen commeted. "Oh, I don't need to stay - I just wanted to come for a little dinner.. not to intrude on your gathering. Don't you all worry about the other table.."

[Roman Turner] He endured the hug that made his face all the hotter and made him have to contort to keep from touching anything boob or baby-ish. And assured August it was her choice to stay or not.

"Well the invite is there if ya want it, ma'am."

Always polite.

[Kora] "It's Kora," the Skald corrects or appends to Roman's introduction. "Just Kora, August." There's another look, August to Roman, brows raised in a silent question. She's leaning forward, her forearms braced against the edge of the table, her fingers laced around her beer in a posture that might otherwise be considered meditative.

Except: she'd be meditating on beer. Her shoulders and spine are both straight underneath her casual clothing - not the usual clothes dedicated to her spirit - but others, the fabric far less worn. There are bracelets at her wrist that pull against the joint as she flexes her wrists, lifting the beer from the bottom of the glass.

That silent question dies as quickly as it was born. Kora glances at Imogen, then cuts a look back at Roman, blushing furiously now. Beside her, Trent can sense the subtle change in her posture as she unfolds and extends one of her long leg, reaching out underneath the table to tap Roman on the ankle. She's not playing footsie. The touch lingers, familiar and animal, both quelling and reassuring. In that moment Kora finds and holds the young Garou's gaze, right through the blush.

"You're more than welcome to stay, August," Kora interrupts as August remains standing, cutting neatly through the young kinswoman's series of extended apologies. " - please." Her tone is brief, direct, and she nods at the chair procured for August by Trent, "Sit." With the last, she lifts her glass in the gesture of a toast, clinking Trent's glass as she offers the wordless toast to the pregnant August.

[August Grant] "Kora." She repeated - again with the smile - "Thank you." August caught sight of Roman's blush. Aww, she hadn't meant to cause him embarassment - he was just one of the few people who was consistently nice to her.. and that she appriecated.

The offered chair was taken, carefully mind you.. sitting was beginning to be a task she had to think about. Dang baby getting in her way and all. Was there a menu around?.. If so, she snagged it if it wasn't being used. Her real reason for being here tonight: Greasy goodness - could not be forgotten!

[Trent Brumby] The chair has been offered out and before he sits, he lingers between the decision of whether they want another table or not, but as Kora decides for them all, he pushes his own chair back and moves over to the table next to them. Despite his hidden injuries he begins to slide the table across to meet their own, making it fit enough for them all, and made sure that August was right with taking her seat before he moved back to his own, back at Kora's side.

Now he picks up his beer and toasts with Kora before taking a sip from it, quickly licking the foam from his lip after. Settling back, he seems content to be silent for the moment, letting himself unwind.

[Roman Turner] The touch beneath the table made him stiffen for the briefest of seconds before he figured out it was Kora and not one of the snaking tentacles from the Carnival. Those things still chased through his dreams. As the color slowly faded to normal in his face, he made with the small talk to August.

"So Miss August, ya look about to foal. I bet with the heat and all, ya can't wait to get the little critter out."

[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen's phone chimes then, causing her to turn and reach down for her purse, getting to her feet as it continues to chime in rapid succession and growing urgency.

"Excuse me," she says, without offering much by way of explanation. "Enjoy your meals."

She places cash down by her barely touched glass of beer; though this one had been paid for, the earlier one had not. Though it's hot and humid, the kinwoman wears a light blazer over her camisole and jeans. She adjusts it over her body as she starts toward the door.

(sorry folks, Mei's brain has gone to bed ahead of her, so she's going to follow. Thanks for the RP!)

[Roman Turner] He jumped up like someone just prodded him with an electric cattle prod.

"Pardon me, I need to see Miss Doctor Slaughter out."

Didn't matter he turned red when he said it. He grabbed his drink, guzzled the beer down in one long chug and swiped the back of his hand across his mouth before nodding to the group.

"Appreciate the drink and company."

(And this boy has to be up and at it at 4am Thanks!))

[August Grant] A hand came to rest atop her belly for a moment as she considered it. "Another six to eight weeks.. or so the doctor says - though this heat is going to kill me. Why must it be so miserable this far north?"

[Kora] Kora is looking at Roman across the table, level and direct until the blush that has suffused his features begins to fade. Someone else would look away, give him private space in which to be an embarrassed boy with an abiding and wholly unreasonable crush. Her instincts are different, entirely more feral.

Her dark eyes sharpen on Trent as he begins to shift the extra table closer; there is a brief, hidden tension to her mouth as her eyes flick from the table to his pale eyes, then back again. She doesn't stand, but she does lean across the table, extending her long, lean frame until she has grasped the edge of the spare as Trent moves it into place, pulling as he pushes, withdrawing her fingers just before they might be pinched between the two tables.

The Skald's attention strays to Imogen as she returns the her beer to the wooden tabletop, but is then snagged by Roman's slang. " - foal?" she asks, rather incredulous, a low snort of laughter suppressed as she tries swallow rather than inhale her mouthful of beer. Only when she's cleared her senses does she finish, " - that's an - interesting figure of speech."

--

Then Imogen is excusing herself to the chiming of her phone. Kora's attention tracks the slight kinswoman as she rises and makes her brief apologies. "'Night, doc," the Skald says, her low voice carrying through the crowd, " - see you later Roman."

[Roman Turner] August managed to stall him for the briefest of moments.

"Well that's right nice ma'am. I'm sure you'll look back on these times with a fondness. If you will please excuse me?"

[Roman Turner] (( I gotta sleep. Thanks for the play!))

[Trent Brumby] The others are leaving or have left, and he bid them both a good night, before his attention is back on Kora and August. He takes another sip from his beer glass before setting it down and pushing it a little to the side.

"Do you know what you're expecting, August?" Trent asks her about the baby. They haven't discussed it too much but he's looking forward to when Kora has hers, when her belly is swollen with their child. He hopes that Kora lives long enough to enjoy that and after. These thoughts are quiet things, shown only in the thoughtful pale of his gray eyes.

[August Grant] Roman got a little wave on his way out.. before her gaze shifted back towards the couple she now sat across. Perhaps she should leave them to their night?

"It is an odd figure of speech.. but, I shall not let a little interesting choice of words to get to me." A slight shrug.

"No.. I don't know what I'm expecting. I figure there are very few surprises in life - might as well enjoy it when it is going to be a surprise. Secretly, I'm hoping for a little girl.. but whatever I am blessed with will be wonderful.."

[Kora] Kora tracks the Roman and Imogen until the pair disappear out the front door of the bar. The air outside is hot and humid enough, pushed by the winds that blow across the lake, that faint threads of swampy air insinuate themselves into the air conditioned interior every time the door swings open. Outside, the night air is thick, nearly visible under the streetlights, and the hum of traffic is intercut with the occasional sound of fireworks as folks set off their Roman candles and bottle rockets and everything in between.

Trent and August exchange questions and answers about her due date; Kora's eyes drop from the door, linger briefly on her reflection over the surface of her own brew, the head now dissipated enough that her reflection is captured in the liquid and distorted by the surface tension. While August answers, Kora lifts her chin, her eyes linger on Trent's profile, studying the subtle shifts in his quiet expression.

Then, she looks over the table at August, her mouth still, her own expression spare, just the neutral curve of her generous mouth. She doesn't ask about the baby, or the due date. Instead, she says, to August, "Your mate must be pleased. Do I know him?"

[Trent Brumby] His smile comes easily and warms the pale colour of his eyes. "Wonderful and healthy," he lifts his glass to her, giving a toast to that and a small, silent prayer that the child does reach full term, fully formed, whole and healthy. Drinking from his glass he had shifted a glance to Kora as she asks on the mate, licking his mouth as he sets the glass back down after.

He waits for the answer, before he slips in a quick question: "What are we ordering for dinner?" Trent will take care of that, getting their orders on to the staff to get food cooking and onto their table. It gives him something to do other then to sit there itching to place his hands where they shouldn't be. Feeding a Garou and a pregnant woman was his first priority.

[August Grant] Now was when she wished she had food - or a drink. Because if she did, she would have stalled the answer to that not usually uncomfortable question by taking a bite or sip. But instead.. she just licks her lips ever so slightly. "Uh.. mm.. no. You don't know him. And he doesn't know about the baby. But, if he did know.. I doubt he would care much, he already has sixteen other children.."

Yup, there was more to that story. Much more - but, most people didn't want to hear it.. so she didn't bother to tell her story.

[Kora] "Hear hear," Kora's alto echoes Trent's deeper voice, immediately on the heels of his toast. Her concurrence is hearty, offered without hesitation. She lifts her glass, too; there is a sort of echo to the gesture, which is both immediate and ancient.

There is a certain sheen to her dark gaze, then. Her attention lingers on August, in that moment, and the light in her eyes would be difficult for the pregnant kinswoman to read except as an animal thing. Garou are animals: make no mistake. The meager evening crowd has shifted away from their diminished table, now, in unconscious response to the Skald's presence. The shift is so subtle as to be barely noticeable, particularly on a slow night like this - but it is enough to give them a measure of privacy.

Trent asks what they're having, and Kora looks up at him them, her mouth twisting into a subtle suggestion of amuisement. "Fish and chips," she informs him, " - they even serve it in British newspapers, here. Imported specially." Of course she's having something deep fried.

"Sixteen? He's not from this Chicago, is he?" Kora inquires when she looks back to August, her brow furrowing now, her generous mouth pressed together into a faint line. "August, yeah?" she says, repeating the kinswoman's name, pausing only long enough to receive some sort of non-verbal confirmation that she's remembered the name correctly. "Is there someone here who is watching over you? Do you know Lila?"


[Kora] (did not mean to bold that!)

[Kora] "Hear hear," Kora's alto echoes Trent's deeper voice, immediately on the heels of his toast. Her concurrence is hearty, offered without hesitation. She lifts her glass, too; there is a sort of echo to the gesture, which is both immediate and ancient.

There is a certain sheen to her dark gaze, then. Her attention lingers on August, in that moment, and the light in her eyes would be difficult for the pregnant kinswoman to read except as an animal thing. Garou are animals: make no mistake. The meager evening crowd has shifted away from their diminished table, now, in unconscious response to the Skald's presence. The shift is so subtle as to be barely noticeable, particularly on a slow night like this - but it is enough to give them a measure of privacy.

Trent asks what they're having, and Kora looks up at him them, her mouth twisting into a subtle suggestion of amuisement. "Fish and chips," she informs him, " - they even serve it in British newspapers, here. Imported specially." Of course she's having something deep fried.

"Sixteen? He's not from this Chicago, is he?" Kora inquires when she looks back to August, her brow furrowing now, her generous mouth pressed together into a faint line. "August, yeah?" she says, repeating the kinswoman's name, pausing only long enough to receive some sort of non-verbal confirmation that she's remembered the name correctly. "Is there someone here who is watching over you? Do you know Lila?"


[Kora] ack! :(

[Kora] ohoh: one more time.

"Hear hear," Kora's alto echoes Trent's deeper voice, immediately on the heels of his toast. Her concurrence is hearty, offered without hesitation. She lifts her glass, too; there is a sort of echo to the gesture, which is both immediate and ancient.

There is a certain sheen to her dark gaze, then. Her attention lingers on August, in that moment, and the light in her eyes would be difficult for the pregnant kinswoman to read except as an animal thing. Garou are animals: make no mistake. The meager evening crowd has shifted away from their diminished table, now, in unconscious response to the Skald's presence. The shift is so subtle as to be barely noticeable, particularly on a slow night like this - but it is enough to give them a measure of privacy.

Trent asks what they're having, and Kora looks up at him them, her mouth twisting into a subtle suggestion of amuisement. "Fish and chips," she informs him, " - they even serve it in British newspapers, here. Imported specially." Of course she's having something deep fried.

"Sixteen? He's not from this Chicago, is he?" Kora inquires when she looks back to August, her brow furrowing now, her generous mouth pressed together into a faint line. "August, yeah?" she says, repeating the kinswoman's name, pausing only long enough to receive some sort of non-verbal confirmation that she's remembered the name correctly. "Is there someone here who is watching over you? Do you know Lila?"

[Trent Brumby] [LMAO.]

[August Grant] "No. Kansas. He had four other wives.. and I feared for my life and my child's life. So - now I'm here." She nodded in response to Kora's question about her name. If Trent wanted to know what she wanted to eat: she mentioned something about onion rings and fish and chips too.. if not, she'd order herself in a moment.

"I do know Lila. I met her once over brunch. Seems nice.. haven't seen her or heard from her since. I live with Erza at the moment - the rest of the pack has disappeared.. including my boyfriend.."

[Trent Brumby] Of course she was going to order something that was greasy and without little nutritional value. It makes him smirk, though, to hear about the news paper and the like. Shaking his head he pushed up and out of his seat, waiting long enough for August to order hers. "And you ma'am, what can I get you?" She was a pretty woman, he discovers, pregnancy suits her - not that he knew her at any moment before now. But he doesn't fawn over her or anything of the sort, he wasn't interested in that way, more then happy with the mate he had. Claimed as he was.

Onion rings with fish and chips, he takes that order and leaves the women by the table, moving towards the bar for some drinks and food to be placed. He makes some small talk while he's there, about the heat, about the fourth of July, and pays for their rounds of food and drink without a bat of an eye; it's expected of him and something he enjoys doing. He's a simple man.

[Kora] The creature's sharp, pale features are nearly impassive as August offers her a brief, verbal sketch of her history. Dark eyes - the color indistinct in the warm shadows of the interior - remain fixed on August, glancing away briefly, lingering on Trent as he cuts through the crowd, back to the bar to make their orders.

When August remarks that she's living with Ezra, though, Kora's gaze tracks back to him - this sharp look, all-at-once, intent and intense. There is something feral about the way she lifts her chin and cants her head, something animal in the direct look she gives the kinswoman, her gaze naked and sharp with decision.

"Not anymore." Kora informs August, in a tone that brooks no argument. "You're moving out tonight." Then, after a pause, a glance back to Trent where he stands at the bar, she continues - " - we can take you to the Brotherhood, if you don't have other options. Or to Roman and Sparrow. You're not staying with Ezra another night."

[August Grant] "He's odd.. but he's ok. He doesn't bother me much. Paul would be upset if I moved out while he was gone.." It wasn't really an argument - just a minor protest. She didn't quite have the nerve to meet Kora's gaze and flat out say 'no' - she wasn't that sort of kin.

[Trent Brumby] [post around me a moment.]

[Kora] "Paul will understand." Kora responds, with this faint, ghosting smile that does little enough to hide the tension underneath. "If he doesn't, I've made the decision, and I will take the responsibility, answering any challenge he lays at my feet. Ezra is not okay. He held one of your kinswomen against her will," she continues, unflinching, unsparing in the details. "The dispute ended only because the kinswoman was killed by a cursed human. That's reason enough for you to move out."

There is a minute pause, then, before she continues, " - we'll take you to the Brotherhood tonight, unless you prefer to go to Roman and Sparrow's."

[August Grant] Lips pursed just slightly.. and then the young woman sighed. "I would rather go to the Brotherhood again - I don't wish to show up like an unwanted child on Roman and Sparrow's doorstep. I have things I must get from home though.. clothes and the like."

"I had no idea about the kin Erza held. He's never hinted at such.."

[Kora] (Ack! Site stopped refreshing for me.)

"Tomorrow," Kora responds quietly, "I'll take you to retrieve whatever you've left behind. Tonight, we'll take you to the Brotherhood. I'm sure the kin have clothing that you can wear until we've retrieved your things from the abandoned packhouse. We'll leave word for Lila, too. You understand why you need to stay away from him, yes?"

[Kora] Okay: I need to go sleep shortly!
to August Grant, Trent Brumby

[August Grant] "Not exactly. I've lived with him for a few months now without incident.. I understand about the kin before - but he knows I'm Paul's girl.. so, he doesn't try anything funny."

A hand grasped a water on the table and she brought it up for a sip. She grinned just slightly. "All those skinny little kin? Oh.. I don't think they'll have anything that'll fit my fat self.."

[August Grant] (Okies!)
to Kora

[Trent Brumby] Trent returns with some drinks for them all, beer for Kora and himself and some soda with ice for the pregnant woman. He settles back into his chair, quiet as they continue talking, as he catches up to the current topic of conversation. Nothing is offered on his part, since Kora has everything under control and he's missed part of what they're talking about.

He drinks his beer, content to sit back in the air conditioning and be in the so called background while the women have a chat.

[August Grant] "Thank you, Trent.." August adds quietly

[Kora] "You just told me that Paul's gone, and you're alone." There's a certain sharpness to Kora's tone, then. Her first beer is finished, and Trent has brought her a refill. She takes a brief, grateful sip, finishing perhaps half of it before she's lost her taste for it now. "You had such care for your life and your child's life that you ran away from your - mate, or lover, or whatever he was - and came all the way to Chicago, show something of that now." Then, a quick shake of her pale head, as if to clea it of cobwebs. "Look: they'll have maternity clothes. You're not the first person in the Nation to be pregnant. Nor the last."

With that, Kora unfolds herself from the seat she's claimed, and stands, sliding her right hand along Trent's shoulder. When she reaches the back of his head, she pushes her long fingers familiarly through the closely cropped black hair. "Cmon," she tells him. "We'll take the meal to go, yeah?" the question is for the kinsman, quiet, familiar even intimate underneath the tension that infected her tone, which is mirrored, further, in the direct set of her narrow shoulders, in the tension that bleeds through her lean spine. " - I want to give August a ride to the Brotherhood. Make sure she arrives okay, and leave a message for Lila, in case she comes by before I find her.?"

Giving August a ride means: Trent will drive the three of them to the Brotherhood. Kora defers the front seat to the heavily pregnant August, and sits in the back, her mouth watering at the heavy scent of fried fish and french fries that diffuses through the interior from the "to go" pouches wrapped up in British newspapers. The pair remain at the Brotherhood long enough to see August settled back into a room; long enough for Kora to leave a note to Lila, with a promise on Kora's part of a return on the morrow to retrieve August's possessions.

Then, Trent and Kora disappear, back out into the warm, humid night. They don't hold hands like human lovers might. Instead, half-way to the car, Kora bumps Trent with her hip, hooks her left index finger neatly into his waistband and - pulls him along after her.

[Kora] how does that work for an exit? (grins)
to August Grant, Trent Brumby

[August Grant] {Yup! It's good. August would tell Kora not to go into their packhouse.. that it's warded and dangerous for her to so.. but August would agree to get a ride there to get her stuff herself - given that Erza doesn't interfere.. which he may - he is spying on August afterall}
to Kora, Trent Brumby

[August Grant] {Ok guys - thanks for the scene! I have to get to bed.}
to Kora, Trent Brumby

[Kora] (Thanks! night!)
to August Grant, Trent Brumby

[Trent Brumby] [that works, sorry I was on the phone again.]