Ornature

[Kora] "You grew up on a farm, Roman - " Kora, a glance to Imogen, brief, then back to Roman. "You seriously don't know what cress is? I don't think I'd know what it looked like if I saw it growing," she continues, with a faint shrug. " - but I've never even been able to tell poison ivy apart from ordinary vines."

[Roman Turner] "Oh....green plant in streams. Heck, back home green plants in water means moss. Poison Ivy, I know, like say, Virginia Creeper. Dandelions and collard greens make good eating. But ain't never seen nothing no one in Kansas called watercress."

[Imogen] "Perhaps it's mainly in Europe," Imogen says, absently, picking up her beer bottle and draining it. "I'd never 'eard o' poison ivy 'till I came t'the US."

Her mouth twists slightly as she quotes: "'Leaves o' three, leave it be'. Beyond tha', I doubt I could recognize it either. Fortunately, however," the poised kinswoman smirks, "I'm not much o' an outdoorsman, a fact that I am sure will shock you all."

[Kora] "I'm pretty sure they have watercress in Kansas, Roman. I think it's everywhere. One of the first greens that greens up in the spring." Kora returns, with a subtle twist of her narrow shoulders beneath the weight of her sweatshirt. The ghost of a smile curves her generous mouth.

"I know about it more from history and - " a faint, dismissive wave of her hand, indicating narrowly some other form of literature. Faery tales, maybe. Ancestor dreams. Eddas, poetic or otherwise. " - stuff. Came in before any crops did, yeah? So if you were starving in spring you could eat that."

Then, a faint snort for Imogen. "For someone who's not really an outdoorsman, Doc, you show up in some strange places."

[Roman Turner] "I'll have to ask Pa about it next call home. Though something ya should know about poison ivy. If one of us runs through it in our furry forms, we can infect ya with the oil that collects on our coats from the leaves. Also, if ya get it on your clothes, it can remain potent for up to five years, so ya want to wash any clothes right away that ya tromped around the woods in, careful not to touch them as much as possible till ya get them washed."

[Kora] They are outside at a picnic table so pretty visible when Izzy walks up. :)
to Imogen, Izzy Montoya, Roman Turner

[Imogen] She smirks at Kora - "Sadly, the wyrm does not seem to respect my preference."

Imogen regards Roman in silence for several seconds. "I do not imagine tha' I will be petting either o' you any time soon," she says blandly. "And I frequently wash my clothes.

"However, I appreciate the botany lesson." The edge of her mouth twists up.

[Izzy Montoya] It's an odd occasion when Izzy stops by the pack house without really having any reason why... but this is one of those times. If asked, she wouldn't be able to articulate a reason why. Maybe she's lonely. Maybe she isn't. Maybe she just had a surplus of beer and was in the neighborhood... which is the most likely scenario, as she's carrying a brown paper bag, with bottles clinking inside.

She hadn't parked far, so the walk isn't long, especially as they are sitting outside. Convenient, that. A lift of her chin serves as greeting, as does her setting the beer on the table. "Thought you might need a refill."

Also inside, and pulled out first? An starbucks iced mocha, which she offers to Kora, instead of a beer.

[Roman Turner] He grinned to Izzy when she turned up like she did. Going so far as to lift his hat a bare inch of his head with a nod to her in greeting.

"Howdy Miss Izzy."

[Kora] Imogen's bland remark earns a twist of Skald's expressive mouth. Kora cuts a sideglance at the kinswoman, making another wry noise deep in the back of her throat. Petting indeed.

"It'd be nice," she says, a glance at the doctor, then Roman, the humor lingering in the frame of her mouth. "If we could schedule these things, you know? Like pistols at dawn. Then let everyone get back to their ordinary lives. And you could stay outta the damn woods."

Roman lifts his hat to Izzy, and Kora, Kora lifts her chin, dark eyes dropping to the bag with the beer. "Cheers," says the Skald, before Izzy has revealed the mocha. " - thanks." Then Izzy pulls out the mocha and ice accepts it, fingers sliding through the condensation frozen on the surface of the cup. "Everyone brings me frozen drinks, these days. Milkshakes and shit." That said, she lifts the cup in a gesture like a toast to Izzy before taking a drink.

"You working on that development stuff down by the docks too, Detective?"

[Roman Turner] "Now if they were really thinkin, they would bring ya chocolates and cookies too. Or better yet, baby gifts. I was thinking we need to hold a baby party thing for ya. Patrick and I could bake a cake and think of games for everyone to play."

[Imogen] Imogen makes a brief sound of amusement, picking up her cigarette case again as Detective Montoya enters. "Perhaps we can raise it at the next negotiation."

She lights up, as the detective sets down the beers, taking out the iced mocha for the Fenrir Jarl first. Imogen inhales her first sweet drag of her cigarette. She smokes something European with a rather distinctive filter. It must be said, though, she never leaves the butts on their property. On the streets, sure, but here, each are pocketed and taken away.

She glances at Roman, her gaze moving briefly to Kora.

"If you and Patrick want t'play house," she observes mildly, "I don't see why Kora needs t'be dragged into it."

[Izzy Montoya] She opens her mouth to correct Roman, again, but stops, remembering what a mouthful he came up with the last time she did so. Instead, what comes out is "Roman." And a nod. Ahhh. Diplomacy. Or self-preservation. Either way, she puts up with the 'Miss Izzy' from him, where she likely wouldn't from anyone else. Someone might suggest a fondness there. That someone might then be glared at, and possibly shot. Izzy Montoya is fond of no one. Well, almost no one.

Which is neither here nor there. She pulls the six pack of bottles - good beer, too, not the cheap shit - and puts it on the table so they could help themselves, before she settles to take a seat on the bench. She takes one for herself, opens it, and drinks deeply.

She looks tired, still. She's not sleeping well, she's working too hard, she's putting too much effort into things that don't equal her taking decent care of herself - decent by other peoples standards anyway. She doesn't know how to be any other way. All or nothing -- she is Fenrir.

As for the frozen drink - "To be honest, it's all I could fuckin' think of while I was standing there with the beer. If you prefer something else, I'll try to accommodate." A gesture, there. Perhaps there is something to the rumors Izzy's developed a respect for the Last Watch after all.

To answer the question, though, she nods. "Put out some feelers - should get some information back from them soon."

She doesn't comment on the idea of playing games at a baby shower, though there's a faint arch of a brow, that falls into a huff of amusement at Imogen's reply.

[Kora] "Listen to the doc, Roman," Kora advises, with a brief, flickering look back at her young packmate. The look steadies, a moment later, is pulled into something strong, more immediate, more direct. Then, a cut away as she holds up her frozen mocha and takes a drink. Something close to relenting, though the ground given is small. " - if you're that eager to go shopping for kid's stuff, I'll tell Trent to let you know if he needs anything we don't have, yeah?" A shrug, narrowly formed, quiet. "After, I mean. Though if anyone finds a kid's toboggan with Viking horns - "

Back to Izzy, then. Kora shakes her pale head - shadowed by the confines of her sweatshirt's hood - just once, in the negative when she asks if Kora prefers something else. "This is brilliant," she says quietly, dark eyes steady on Izzy's face. "I appreciate it, Detective. I'm just looking forward to being able to indulge in more adult beverages when this is all over."

Then she nods again, steady to Izzy's mention of feelers, glances back to Imogen, her voice more quiet here. "You guys get a good response from the kin? At the meeting?"

[Imogen] "Better than I expected," Imogen answers, absently. "We'll see about results. S'all tha' really matters."

[Izzy Montoya] Kora will be looking forward to more adult beverages. Izzy nods, once, meeting Kora's gaze evenly as she lifts her bottle, slightly. "I'll buy a round, when ya can."

She let's Imogen answer the question about the meeting. Izzy's presence there was mostly silent, until she'd done the unthinkable and defended the Doc, and called the Silver Fang an asshole in the process. Now that? Was fun. But she knows the first was unappreciated, the second likely will get her ass kicked sooner or later, and she doesn't rightly care in either instance. The fact she kept her mouth shut as long as she did that night was a minor miracle.

[Kora] "I'll hold you to that," Kora to Izzy, wry, direct. Then, a glance back to Imogen, accompanied by a brief gesture with the frozen mocha. "Doc, you mind giving me a ride?"

[Imogen] Imogen shakes her head slightly, pinching out her cigarette as she gets to her feet, stepping off the picnic table. "I should 'ead home, anyway," she says, an oblique references to the late hour.

"Goodnight," she says to the other two as she picks up her jacket from the picnic table, sliding into it.

[Maddox] "What I wish, Lllizzy," and the L is noticeably drawn out, "is to not break a verbal habit that's twenty-some-odd years in the making. But," and he sighs, long-suffering and benevolent man making the effort to bestow a favor, "if it will make you happy, I can try. The best I can promise is a hybrid, lllIzzy."

Peering up at her, his mouth quirks, and he shrugs a shoulder. "And you can call me whatever you like, s'long as you don't refer to me as anything relating to Angelina fucking Jolie."

[Kora] "I trained in these islands in the north Atlantic, yeah?" she returns, walking fast enough to match his pace. It's hard to see the grace in her gait anymore. Mostly, she waddles, shoulders back, stomach forward. "The meal plan included every edible part of the sheep. Mutton; they sold the lambs off. And fish. I'd be happy with Little Caesar's pizza.

"This stuff - " outside now, a cool spring night; she glance up automatically, finding clouds across the waxing moon. The night's unsettled; she's not yet glimpsed the moon through the cloud cover and reminds herself not to look up again. "Is heaven."

Kora's eyes drop from the sky to the street; settle on Maddox and Izzy down on the corner, the bus stop bench. Then she cuts Lukas a side glance, generous mouth twisting in a subtle show of wry humor. "Did you actually just say little tyke?" The streetlights sheen across the surface of her eyes as she lifts her shoulders in a vague, answering shrug. "I don't know when exactly. Soon, though."

[Danicka Musil] Two college seniors and two people that look like they're old enough to be grad students stumble into the pizza parlor, laughing and barely able to carry themselves, then abruptly straighten up because they have to be serious here. One of them keeps flicking his eyes around, not blinking, and is visibly trying very, very hard not to laugh. He's holding the hand of a girl who, sober, would be way too pretty for him, but maybe that's what people think every time those two hold hands. The 'grad students' are a total hipster -- scarf and everything -- with a chin beard and tattoos, and beside him is a blonde woman in dark pink and white lululemon athletica, her hair up in a high ponytail.

The hipster is handling himself better than the undergrads, as though this is just his natural state. The brunette starts to giggle again. The blonde, who smells as strongly of weed as the rest of them, lets out a squeal that is decidedly not Shadow Lordly at all and bolts across the room to jump on Lukas, arms and legs tossed around his shoulders and waist, respectively.

"Hi!"

[Izzy Montoya] She studies him again. A long moment. Then? A subtle curve at the corner of her lips - barely seen, barely there before it's gone again. She turns, and settles to the bench then, crossing long legs, smoothing her slacks over her thigh, before she turns her attention to the pastry now held in her lap, cigarette between her fingers as she plucks bits of the treat off to eat them.

She doesn't seem to care that he didn't invite her to sit.

"To be fuckin' honest, I never made that connection. Now, though..." She looks up then, which is where finds Kora looking toward her and Maddox. She holds the gaze a moment, before returning her attention to the Theurge at her side.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] "I absolutely did. I thought you'd prefer it to," he pauses to take another big bite, bringing up the pizza box to catch a runaway glop of meat-n-cheese, "the future warrior of Gaia, oorah!"

And a laugh, then, more or less heading toward Izzy and Maddox down the way now -- that sort of half-unconscious clustering of like to like. "I was fostered in upstate New York. Very rural area, very beautiful. A big lake and some waterfalls. Actually, a reservoir and a dam, but still quite lovely. We were close enough to the City not to have to salvage every part of the sheep, though."

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] [ack! *reads* go on, i'll add another post in a sec!]

[Maddox] He shifts on the bench, giving the woman room. His Rage is not terribly high, and he's not the most threatening of Garou. Tall and gangly, Maddox looks more the type to accidentally hurt himself before doing damage to an opponent in a fight. Even without a gun, Izzy could probably overpower him with little effort.

That's not why he makes room. There's no telling what that reason is, or when why when she does deign to sit near him he refrains from leaning up against her and being a general nuisance. He does indeed look surprised, though. And he huffs a laugh.

"Hey, I'll remind you that I'm making an effort. No luvs for you. No Jolies for me. Deal?" Leaning back slightly, he holds out the arm closest to her for a shake. Her attention drifts, though, and so does his. Maddox looks over to see the small party over by or in the pizza joint. One familiar figure, one less familiar, and one just in the process of latching onto the more familiar one like a jumper.

[Izzy Montoya] He offers a shake, and she pulls her attention back to him. She drops her gaze to his hand, and then slides her fingers into his easily enough. "Deal."

A beat. "Which is good, as I'd hate to have to get these coordinates right here tattoo'd on my ass to commemorate the place we met. I hate needles."

His rage isn't as much as some, perhaps more than others. Rather than overwhelming, it's more of a tingle of awareness along her spine, under her skin. Easily ignored. He follows her gaze, and she lifts a chin toward Kora and Lukas. "Know'em?"

[Kora] Whatever she might have replied - the twist lingerings in the curve of her mouth when he finished future warrior of gaia with oorah - is largely swallowed when Danicka appears, well dressed, smelling of pot and Shadow Lord, and flings herself onto Lukas. The pregnant Fenrir steps rather politely, rather decisively, out of the immediate circle of their space, lifts her pizza box in vague toast to Lukas and begins ambling (waddling) down the street toward the bus bench.

So: tall, young, heavily pregnant woman, pale-skinned, pale-haired, dark-eyed, wearing a University of Chicago hoodie that is large enough to accommodate her gravid figure at the stomach, and too large everywhere else. NO breeding to mark her as Garou; just the confidence to walk a street like this in the presence of a Shadow Lord, or along. Her hair is long, pale enough that it would go silver in the moonlight, the weight of it wrapped back upon itself, secured with a chop stick at the base of her neck. Mostly the twist is covered by the hood of her sweatshirt.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] There's an unShadowLordly squeal, and then there's a rapid approach that distantly reminds him of the way his imaginary dream-daughter flung herself at him in the Underworld, and then he's scooping a potsmoked Danicka up half out of reflex and half out of instinct. Hi, she says. Rrr, he says, pretend-gnawing at her shoulder for a second.

Then, as though abruptly re-aware that they're out on the streets, he leans back and lets her slide back down. "Hi," he replies, smiling. Then a pause. Sniffing. "Are you stoned?"

He hasn't quite let go of her entirely. His arm wraps warm and heavy over her shoulders as he starts following Kora's meandering, waddling path toward the others.

[Maddox] "Why...?" he trails, amused and confused all at once. Before he can complete the question, Izzy asks him if he knows them. He lifts his head again to see.

"Big bloke's got a room at The Brotherhood. I don't know the bird 'e's wearing. Her..." He squints at Kora.

She probably doesn't remember him. He certainly doesn't really remember her, though she looks familiar. But they saw each other once, on another night, when Maddox was sitting on a bench in a park, playing to the twilight. It was brief, and he'd been thoroughly distracted by an adorable little songbird and a flighty tribesmate.

Maddox watches the pregnant woman as she makes her way near, eyes narrowed and head tilted. Then he gives up in a shrug.

"Aside from a bit of déjà vu, I don't think I've met her before. Friend of yours?"

[Danicka Musil] "I'm hungry," Danicka answers, as though this was a very, very stupid question on Lukas's part, and she must be stoned because there was less grace than her usual as she slid down and set her running-shoed feet on the concrete again. She's got a messenger bag slung over her shoulder, the strap crossing her chest, but it isn't heavy. Her eyes are glassy, but she's smiling. "You found the real pizza!" she says, since he's at this parlor, and she sounds so proud.

Oh, they're walking. She's got a very heavy arm on her and she's essentially being steered in the direction he's going, but tonight she doesn't seem to mind that. She doesn't reposition his arm or anything. She seems, in fact, quite content to be ushered along for once.

"I can haz pizza?" she lolcats at him, holding out her hands. She's beaming.

[Izzy Montoya] She shrugs a shoulder, semi-embarrassed to know the following: "Jolie has the longitude and latitude of the birth place of each of her adopted children on her arm."

Then it's back to the garou. The big bloke he says. "Lukas. And Danicka. And this..." Added as Kora comes within comfortable earshot and conversation distance. "Is Kora. Kora, Maddox. Kora is the Jarl."

The. Not hers. Somehow, though, it's not intended as an insult, nor slight. Izzy tends to hold herself apart from the Nation she is mired within, and this is no different. Of course, she doesn't claim Kora is a friend either. It's not hard to imagine Izzy having a distinct lack of those, all told. Coworkers, acquaintances, sure. Friends? Few and far between.

[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Well, at least the big bloke is no longer wearing the bird. He's just gently guiding her along, and long before she lolcats at him, he's already offering her his pizza box. There are two meatlover's slices in there, big and flat and heavy, oozing, dripping with toppings. One's halfeaten. The other one's hers now.

"I totally found the real pizza. Why are you -- " he decides, midway through the question, to stop trying to ask why she's stoned and cruising for pizza in Cabrini with a bunch of classmates. "Did you drive?"

[Kora] The Jarl is ungainly with late pregnancy, carrying a small pizza box that smells of garlic and another single slice on a greasy paper plate atop that. She has not yet eaten, not even the first bite of the slice. Her thumb holds the paper plate in place atop the box as she walks, though. When she's close enough that Izzy offers introductions, she offers the kinswoman a faint half smile. "Detective." And a lift of the box by way of greeting. "Maddox."

Her eyes are dark, the color mostly lost in the night's shadows. Without precisely conscious thought, she stands out of the stream of smoke, but does not ask Izzy to put out her cigarette, and does not otherwise acknowledge her pregnancy. Not that it needs acknowledgment.

A brief glance back down the street touches on Danicka and Lukas as they take the same path. Then her gaze shifts, focuses beyond them, behind their backs, narrowing with momentary interest at something in the middle distance.

The note lingers, then shifts. Kora glances back at Izzy and Maddox. "Making friends?" A steady look for Izzy, though there is an understated irony to the curve of her expressive mouth.

[Maddox] "Jarl?" he asks, brows raised. He looks over Kora, surprised, but probably not for a reason she might think. "I thought this was a multi-tribal sept?" His voice is not pitched to keep from reaching the Jarl, but nor does he call it out to her.

"Kora," he greets, mouth quirking. When he takes a drag from his own cigarette, the smoke gets blown from the corner of his mouth. Where the wind takes it from there is beyond his control. "And I think it's safer to say we're not making enemies. I hope." He doesn't needle Izzy about her knowledge of a pop culture icon. Not right now, anyway, though he does wonder what other tidbits of useless information the kinswoman has tucked away in that fascinating brain of hers.

[Izzy Montoya] Making friends, Kora asks, with understated irony. "And Influencing People." Izzy replies, with a slight smirk and equally steady gaze. Some have told her that a smirk is rude, crude, and not at all polite - which is likely why it's her default expression. She means no insult though. At least, not at the moment.

There is respect in this, too. Kora stands out of the path of cigarette smoke, but does not ask that it be put out. As a direct result, Izzy takes a final drag, exhales away from the Jarl, and drops the butt to the cement at her feet, crushing it to final death under the toe of her boot. It's the little things.

As for the idea of a multi-tribal sept. "It is."

[Danicka Musil] "Pizzaaa..." Danicka chortles gleefully, accepting the greasy slice without bothering with a napkin, without asking for one. She grabs the second large slice and holds it with both hands, taking a very large bite while Lukas is thinking better of asking why this woman, who considers everything from gallery openings to drinking at Mr. C's to taking apart arcane weaponry under a microscope to be appropriate ways to spend her leisure time, would do something as shocking as get high with college students.

Her teeth dig into the cheese and she looks like she's about to burst out giggling from sheer happiness. She doesn't, though. She reins it in, and chews that enormous bite, wiping some grease off her lower lip with the back of her wrist. Looks up at him as they near Maddox and Izzy and Kora again, blinking.

Swallows.

"I'm pretty sure we walked here. There may have been a bus. III left my coat at Trevor's apartment, though. He said he'd bring it to class tomorrow but I have to get it dry cleaned cuz it smells like ganja now." She takes another bite and, cheeks bulging, raises one hand in a wave to the Fianna, the detective, and the preggorz chick. She at least has the manners not to speak with her mouth full, though.

[Kora] "Not making enemies, influencing people," a mild, dark-eyed look from Maddox to Izzy and back again. The faint irony evident in the curve of her generous mouth widens. The shift is subtle as the difference between two shades of some designer color, but all the more evident for that. "Careful, detective. You'll make me proud."

Her chin rises, and she lifts the box by way of explanation. "If you will both excuse me, I'm heading back to the church. Need some milk to wash this down with, and I'm starving." A brief, flickering glance encompasses Lukas and Danicka in her excuses, and then the Fenrir starts around the corner.

[Kora] (Thanks for the scene, folks. Bedtime!)

[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

[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'."

[Drew Roscoe] Drew's got her cellphone pinned against her ear with her right shoulder, held tipped down to help meet partway. Top floor of a busted up apartment building, surrounded by half-demolished boxes of similar shape and design-- this was going to be a revitalization project one day, when the city found spare funds to finish its work. For now, though, it was a ghost of a street. Out front there was a vehicle blocking one side of the street, having collided with a parked, old, rusted abandoned looking thing. The trail of blood that went from the vehicle to the front door of the building is pretty much dry by now, the overcast skies never delivered the rain that it promised would wash the stain away.

Drew gives shaky directions to Roman into her cellphone, gathers children to her best she can, and moves them over to Eli's side with her.

Get them out, he'd struggled to tell her. That could wait, she couldn't leave her Kin like this, absolutely couldn't. What if her bullets weren't as sure as she thought? What if one of the monsters came to and decided to finish their work with Booker while he was paralyzed and unable to defend himself? What if he stopped breathing? She'd be gone, unable to defend him, to perform CPR, to do anything. So she'd stayed, and after hanging up with Roman she'd shushed quiet comfort noises to the children while keeping one hand at Eli's chest, having to feel it move up and down when he breathed to be sure.

The side door is where she'd told Roman to go, the one with the boards torn off. Upstairs, they were impossible to miss.

Please hurry.

[Eli Booker] They are not hard to miss. The muffled cries of terrified children, the scent of blood and gun powder that lingered in the air and the trail of blood outside that led upstairs...they were all like a trail of bread crumbs leading Roman to where they were.

Eli breathed like a man deep in the throes of nasty asthma attack. His chest struggled to lift as his lungs strained to take in and hold a breath. When he exhaled, it always seemed like it'd be for the last time. He's shaking - muscles twitching and trembling in response to the poisonous toxins released into his system by the Fomori they fought only a handful of minutes ago.

They are in a dark room - what would be this apartments living room - and behind them is a bedroom. One glance would tell Roman bad things happened her. Unless he physically looks, he'd see a foot laid out and still peeking from behind the corner of one wall.

[Janis Ian] Janis is still a prospective member. She isn't bound to the totem as of yet, though, she's around the church as often as she can be, picking up the patrols through the pack's turf. It isn't the bat signal that snares her attention to something going on.

It's Roman himself - the reactions of his body when he skids to a halt at the doors of the front stoop of the Church and starts to run down them, a phone in hand. The Rotagar side-steps out of his way as she was walking up the steps to the church, watching him run like a wild bull. Red brows furrow together, the one sided conversation plucked out words that she recognizes as 'wounds' and 'Drew'. Her nostrils flare as she looks up at the Church and then to the fading form of the CoG running down the street.

It doesn't take much for her to spin on the ball of her foot to turn, it takes even less effort for her to break into an urgent run to follow after the other no moon.

[Roman Turner] It was a dead run that passed in a blur for him. Once he'd knocked a man clean off his feet, making it so Kora had to leap over the man. His Alpha had responded right away, so as they ran Roman acted as blocker, knocking anyone out of the way that didn't move fast enough. His coat tails flew out behind him, hat long forgotten.

It wasn't too hard to find them, he found the car, found the trail of blood and what might seem like life time for those waiting passed in minutes for him. Soon enough the sound of boots came as he ran up the stairs two at a time to burst in on the scene, panting like a dog.

[Drew Roscoe] What they find is a mess, the kind that suggested there really ought to be casualties on both sides. There's blood all about the place, the smell of gunpowder as thick in the air as the blood is. There's a body whose foot is poking out of a back room, still as the grave. There's another figure face down at the back of the room, near a corner filled with shadows and the scent of despair and children, blood pooling from its head. A lump of deformed lopsided muscle and pink flesh is on the floor with its brains painting a picture on the ceiling above and along the back of his shoulders. The last body visible is that of what appears to be a vastly oversized, mutated scorpion, exoskeleton cracked with multiple gunshot wounds and vibrant yellow-green pus leaking from these wounds, while blue venom only recently stopped leaking sticky goo from the tail.

Near the door that Roman burst through first, followed close behind by Kora and Janis (who the fuck's that? whatever, if she's with Last Watch she's fine), some odd number of feet to the right, are five still-warm, still-breathing bodies.

Eli's on his back with his head near the wall, Drew had moved him so he wasn't slumped back but laying flat instead, aware that this would make it easiest for him to breathe. She's on the ground, beside him, with a four year old in her lap and a six and nine year old at her sides. They're all crying, quiet hoarse sounds now, unable to process what they'd seen, what had happened to Mommy and Daddy, clinging to the pretty woman with the blood-speckled face, the warm coat and the long hair that smelled of floral shampoo and gunsmoke alike.

Her eyes fly up to the cavalry, wide and bright with fear but without tears (just yet, she'd have time for that later).

"He's worse," she informed Roman.

[Roman Turner] "Holy cow. We got youngins in here. Lord have mercy."

He thought quickly, pulling his cell phone back out and with one thumb had a game up and going in a flash.

"Here,come over hear and play. See? Angry birds. Ya just have at it and Uncle Roman will buy ya some icecream and suckers when it's all better."

He was hearding the kids out of the way so he could get a good look at Eli. Kneeling next to the Kin to examine his wounds.

"Oh man, tell me ain't no stings below the belt, cause if poison's gotta be sucked out, I'm afraid ya might not make it unless one of the girls is feeling adventuresome."

[Janis Ian] Roman wasn't alone. The redhead was on his heels, following behind him as her breath remained steady, unlabored - as it rolls out in a stream of mist, her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Her eyes narrow as they pass the car, the scent of blood pulls a growling rumble from the pit of her stomach.

She looks to Kora and then to Roman as the CoG is the first to burst through the door, she skids in behind him. Brown eyes scanning still-warm bodies that were laying close by, until her head turns and the Rotagar stops - dead in her track. "ELI!" It's the first panic-stricken thing she utters as her eyes move to the fallen kin, and then to Drew and back again.

There were kids crying, huddled together as they were being herding out of the way. She blinks once, "Roman, can ye heal 'im?"

[Drew Roscoe] The six year old is bold enough out of the three to accept Roman's invitation, they allow themselves to be ushered because they're shellshocked, they're too young to know to retaliate, to run, to do much of anything really. Authority's what they seek, promises of ice cream and suckers are lost upon them for the most part, the game is barely paid attention to, but the kids will leave Drew and Eli when she lets them go and huddle together elsewhere so the Ragabash Medic can do his thing.

Janis yelps Eli's name, this earns her a snap of a glance from Drew, a startled blink, and a moment's worth of a stare. Then she's shaking her head and moving one hand to Eli's shoulder, the other to tug down his shirt, down to the point that a kevlar vest is able to peek out at his collarbone.

There are two sting marks at his neck, one at the side the other more centralized on his throat. They look as awful as they should to do this much damage. "There. His armor, it did it's job, but it only covers so much..."

[Roman Turner] "I surely hope so."

He heaved the biggest sigh of relief when the wounds weren't belong the belt in the "No man goes there on another bro, zone." Calmly he reached for his belt, flicking open a small Gerber pocket knife which he moved to the wounds with.

"Ya with me Mr Eli? I'm gonna try and suck some of this poison out, so don't start to thinking I'm just trying to give ya a hicky. Hold still if ya can."

[Eli Booker] He wheezes. His breath whistles through his lungs in a sound that could very nearly pass for the infamous death rattle old people are said to posses before they pass away. Whatever toxins were introduced to his system are effecting his muscles, because they twitch and his respiratory system, because he cannot breath easily and Eli was no asthmatic.

Janis yells his name, Roman asks if he's with him and Eli can only make his head move slightly - enough that Roman can just barely see the motion.

He was talking before, albeit with great effort. Now, he says nothing.

[Roman Turner] It was just the pointed tip of the knife and he worked quickly to score across the stings. In a moment he was bending over Eli, sealing his mouth the wounds to suck. And no, he didn't suck and swallow, he was more the suck and spit sort. Inwardly he gathered himself. One hand was splayed flatly on Eli's chest, the other across the wounds he worked on.

"This might hurt some. Gaia please bless me, be with me on this."

[Janis Ian] There is a moment's stare that is shared between Janis and Drew - the kin gives a startled blink, Janis' mouth flattens into a thin line. She's moving quickly to the other side, sliding into a crouch at Eli's legs on the same side as Drew. She watches with a soft furrow of her brow, her nostrils flaring.

Eli's head moves slightly - Roman has the assurance that he's still there. Janis skirts her eyes away to try and assess what happened, the children taking into regard, but her attention keeps returning to what Roman's doing - arching an eyebrow at the other no moon.

[Roman Turner] His breath deepened with his eyes closed as he drew on his own spirit and the Gift of Mother's touch. He leaned down close to Eli's neck, just where he had been sucking poisoning out and pressed his lips against the wound with a faint whispered breath of sound. Giving it his best go at using Mother's Touch on the Kin.
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 4, 5 (Success x 1 at target 6) [WP]

[Kora] The truth is: Kora doesn't run as fast as Roman. Not on two legs. Not any longer. And so she sends the young Ragabash running ahead of her, Rotagar in tow. Roman bursts into the door a solid minute or three ahead of the pregnant Skald, but arrive she does. She's developed the beginnings of a waddle, all things considered. All her weight forward, now, heavy on her tall, narrow frame. The reflexive twist of rage in her blood is good for neither her nor the child she carries now - but there is nothing to be done for it.

When she sees the children, her mouth tightens. She breathes out, once, sharply. "They cannot see any more." Kora says, sharply. A lifting glance toward Janice, then, a movement of her chin toward the children. "Move them. One of the other apartments. No names, no words in their presence, understand? Nothing more."

The healing work she leaves to Roman, but while he works - after a shooting glance toward Drew. Pulling her aside with a brief, moving glance toward Eli, her generous mouth a thinned line across her sharply defined features. Low, the question. She asks it only when the children are out of the room. "I want to know what they saw."

[Roman Turner] What passed from Roman in to Eli might not be much, it might feel like a tickled that started out soft and warm, but them it might burn as it reached the poison to do battle with it. And Roman knew it wouldn't be enough. He whispered near Eli's neck. I'm gonna have to try again. Stay with me partner."

[Janis Ian] Her hand drops to Eli's calf, squeezing it as Kora's breath draws out once, sharply, gaining the redhead's attention. She wears a similar tight mouthed expression, her head turning over her shoulder to regard the children.

Auburn hair falls across her shoulder as she slid back up to her feet, withdrawing her hand, and moves away. It distracts her - the task. She swallows the lump forming in the throat, offers the children a rueful smile as her voice drops into a crooning sing-song voice, the brogue accentuating her words sweetly, gently.

"C'mon, my darlings..." she says to the children, trying to herd them away so they won't continue to watch, like a mother goose herding her ducklings into a pond. "C'mon o'er 'ere."

[Roman Turner] He didn't much like how quiet Eli was, nor how labored his breathing was. It was one of those times you wished you had one of those adrenaline shots. All he had was a minor gift that took every bit of his spirit to work. He spoke softly to Eli, just as he had to Drew the time he held her and sent healing through her body.

"Ya ain't getting out of working on the Kin house this easily. Just remember that."

Once more he bent to the wounds to breath out against them so close his lips touched open flesh.
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6) [WP]

[Drew Roscoe] Drew slides away, to give Roman space, and after a moment of hesitation she pushes herself up onto her feet and watches what Roman does. He flicks the knife out and works to suck the venom from Booker's wounds, and Drew furrows her brow some, thinking that perhaps she should have done that herself. But then, if she had maybe she'd have wound up on the floor twitching and struggling for air too? No, no, she did right.

Janis kneels down by Booker's legs, Drew's eyes bounce off the female Ragabash again for a second, then she's leaning down to pick up a couple of guns off the floor-- hers first, the big heavy Dirty Harry revolver, which goes right into the holster at her back, under her coat, and Eli's smaller handgun second. This she checks for a second, the flicks the safety on and sticks in the deep pocket of her winter coat.

Kora arrives and takes charge. Roman is left to do what he's doing, Janis is told to move the children, and Drew is pulled aside to explain what the witnesses saw. Her answer takes a moment to surmise, but it given after she licks dry lips that taste like splashed blood and brain matter.

"I don't know... not all of what they saw, not for sure. Their screaming and crying is what made me and Eli take notice and come looking in the first place. Heard a man pleading and a woman crying-- I haven't gotten to check for them yet. Safe to guess that they're dead, 'cause they sure didn't leave." She shivers a bit and presses on, gesturing to each dead body in turn.

"Saw this one take several shots to the head before it died trying to choke me out. Saw this one stab and lash at Eli and try to come after me before I put it down. This one--" to the gray thing sprawled out face down in a corner, "Came out of the back room, I expect it took the parents. Tried to grab up one of the kids and make a break for it, but I put it down before it could touch them again.

"They saw me and Eli bust in with guns, saw us kill some monsters, and saw Roman suck some poison out of Eli's stings...."

Another moment of quiet, and Drew's eyes drift after the kids. Her arms wrap tightly around her chest, clenching back the crushing sensation within it that tended to follow evenings such as this where loss came so close to home. "You guys... you have a way to fix their memories, yeah?"

[Roman Turner] He was checking Eli's breathing, coloring and responses with each warm thrust of his Gift in to the Kin. "Ya with me still? I can't work on another hicky, ya can tell all the fellas some kinky story on how ya got them."

[Eli Booker] Kora's face is as grave as the situation had been.She ushers Drew to the side and instructs Janis to move the children away. They had seen their mother and father drained dry. Should Kora look in the room just behind them, she'd see the mother splayed on the floor next to her long dead husband. There blood is drained, though the floor isn't coated in it.

While Roman works, Eli's breathing becomes less haggard - less forced. His heart races in his chest with the force of both adrenaline and fear. A finger twitches, then a foot. Eventually, Eli is able to move his extremities, and lifts his eyes toward Roman.

"I...usually only go to first base...on a first date..." He says quietly with a voice full of gravel.

[Janis Ian] [persuasion gift?]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 7, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6) [WP]

[Roman Turner] "Son, for another nuzzle against your neck, I'd bring flowers and the ring."

His chestnut head lowered again and this time as he breathed across the wounds, he poured the last of what he had in to healing.
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 2, 2 (Failure at target 6) [WP]

[Roman Turner] "I'm afraid I'm drained. I owe ya a better date than this one."

[Janis Ian] The three children have seen horrors that they shouldn't ever be exposed to. Janis does what she can to keep their attentions, divert their focus to something else. She keeps talking, asking simple questions to the youngest, or watching the six-year-old with Roman's phone.

Her voice is as soft and pleasant as she can keep it, drawing on more persuasive gifts to aid. She takes them away into one of the apartments, out of sight and out of mind, not once breathing a word about what just happened.

[Eli Booker] Roman's remark earns him a smile that doesn't quite work itself into a full fledged smart ass grin. Eli can move, his body aches in places still though. Dragging himself up, he leans against the wall and flexes his fingers, hands, into fists and then relaxes them.

"I owe you kid." He says to the Child of Gaia.

[Kora] There's a dark moment in the nascent seconds when Drew has finished her story where Kora is closed off from the pack. She cuts a glance back over her shoulder, out into the hallway in the Janis' wake, considering the whole of the story Drew has just offered. Something hard about her face in that moment, something steely in the depths of her dark eyes. Her left hand clenches into a fist, and her nostrils jaw sets firmly, grinding, as she considers What Is to Be Done.

Her first thought is death.

She is still with it, stark with it. Holds it inside her like she could swallow it herself, make it whole if she were to consume it somehow. Then, the moment passes, she breathes out all at once. It's not relief, but something else. Some easing that comes with decision.

"We'll look for them," says Kora, of the parents. Lifting her chin toward the place Drew indicated. "I need you to take the children out of here before there are cops anywhere close. I want you to take them to Hill House. Have Janis help you keep them in line of out of sight. Don't get pulled over, don't be seen, and don't get caught. Give them to Mary Alice and make sure she knows they are going to be cared for by kin and only kin; kept out of the public eye until whatever search the police make for them is over. And then sent away, someplace quiet and rural, adopted into the family.

"The only way to keep them from being a veil breach is to raise them as kin."

[Drew Roscoe] Drew doesn't question Kora's choice, doesn't protest the fact that her truck isn't outside-- it's only a short two blocks away, she was sure that she and Janis (a name to go with the face, there we are) could manage walking the three back to her house, find a way to pile them into the truck and get them to the Hill House like it was ordered. Sure, her truck only had the bench, but she was sure she could squeeze her own petite self and three smaller children in without any trouble. Two would just have to share a seatbelt, and Janis would either hang behind for clean-up or ride in the back of the truck, whichever.

Drew's attention is split, though, when Roman leans back and Eli's voice grinds to join the teen's in the air. Her posture straightens, back stiffens, and weight shifts forward some, indicating that she was about to move but stopped herself.

Instead, quickly, she glanced up to Kora and flicked her eyebrows up, like asking permission to deviate from the task set before her for a moment to see the Gaia-given recovery herself.

[Roman Turner] "You're not kidding ya owe me."

He helped Eli prop himself up against the edge of the sofa.

"I need ya for your painting skills. Besides, after sucking poison out of ya, I think we're engaged. So ya sit here and I'l find ya some juice, then we'll see if we can get ya out of here."

[Kora] Drew's raised eyebrows are met by another lift of the pregnant Garou's chin. It's like permission. Go on.

[Janis Ian] Roman's phone was retrieved from the six-year-old as Janis finds a trinket from her pocket to distract the child with. A brightly polished piece of brass shaped like a coin. The print minted on it long faded. She tells the child it's a good luck piece, lets him hold on to it and motions for them to stay there.

She reappears in the hallway, making her way towards the others as she caught a portion of what Kora says. Brown eyes quickly fall to Drew, her tongue slid inside her left cheek. "Roman, I 'ave yer phone." She says, offering it up to the Child of Gaia as she casts Eli a look.

[Roman Turner] "Thank ya kindly."

He held up his hand from where he had retaken his seat next to Eli on the floor. At that moment he'd been trying to encourage Eli to drink orange juice.

[Eli Booker] Eli doesn't quite laugh. Rather, he huffs out a breath of air that would of been a laugh if only he had more energy to behind it. Roman helps him and he is accepting of it.

"Those kids ok?" He asks, dark eyes shifting around the room. That's when his eyes light on Kora's face for a beat. Just a beat, because he can't make himself catch her eyes and hold them.

"You're alright in my book Roman...I'll paint the fuckin' city for you if you need it..." He groans and shifts, plants the sole of one heavy boot on the ground for leverage as if he's testing his legs to see if he can stand. Instead he just sips the orange juice and tries not to throw it up as his stomach churns.

[Drew Roscoe] The Kin doesn't rush over or fall so her knees crack the floor so she can drop down beside Booker once he's sitting up and talking, she isn't one for those kinds of dramatics. Instead she walks over, sneakers quiet save for the occawsional squelching noise when she steps in a bit of carnage, and remains standing while Roman helps Eli sit up and get propped so he can lean back against something sturdy. First the Kin's fingers push through Roman's hair, a quick and thoughtless gesture.

"Thanks, Roman. Two of our lives you've saved now. Can't thank you enough."

For Eli, she fishes his gun out of her pocket and leans down, tucking it into the vest pocket she knows he tends to keep it in. "Janis and I, we're gonna see those kids into the right hands. I guess you, Kora and Roman have clean-up duty." A bruise is already blossoming about her neck and throat, up close to her jaw as well. That she'd withstood the beast of a misshapen man trying to squeeze the life out of her so well was a testament to her ancestry, really, or just her stubborn determination to live. That didn't mean she'd escape without any marks, though. Frankly, she considered herself lucky that she could speak and it only hurt a little to breathe.

[Roman Turner] "We'll get ya home. Maybe I will call a cab this time. And get ya some rest, you'll do ok. But them youngins are gonna have a hard time and will have to be kept sheltered while working through this stuff.

[Roman Turner] 'Just doing what I was born to do Miss Drew. I had a little more in me I could tend to ya too, but gonna take a bit to recover."

[Eli Booker] "You ok?" It's spoken to Drew, quietly, as a heavy hand reaches out and touches her calf. She was bruised, she'd be sore, but she saved his life and Eli is more than aware of this. There's a familiarity to his touch with Drew, it lingers for longer than it should

Eli's face falls when Roman speaks. There are lines at his mouth, creasing his brow. It ages him considerably. He is worried after the trio of youngsters and it couldn't be more obvious on his expression.

"Thanks Roman..." He says again and uses his back against whatever he's against to try and leverage himself to standing.

[Janis Ian] Janis tilts her head in a nod to Roman, her hand falls back to her side, nearly disappearing under the cuff of the sleeve to her leather blazer. Her shoulders roll back once, straightening her frame as the Rotagar turns her head at the sound of her name coming from Drew. Her throat ripples, swallowing quietly - "Aye," is all she can say about the task to handle the children.

She shakes her head, casting her head down as a fall of red bangs shadows the expression of her eyes. She steps away to move back towards the apartment where the children were waiting - "Best get them out of 'ere while we can, Drew."

[Drew Roscoe] "Goddamn peachy," is her answer to Booker, accompanied by a grin that was as warm as ever, accented with a bit of wild that makes teeth look sharp and lips stretched a bit too far-- adrenaline was kicking in, and she was smothering the sort of hysteria that followed nearly dying, others nearly dying, and the rush of victory to boot. Booker puts his hand on her calf, she lays her hand on top of his, then moves it and tucks her other hand under his armpit to help him regain balance while he tries to stand. She can't lift him, no, she's not nearly so strong, but she can at least help with balance until he finds it on his own.

Once he does, she nods and lets him go with a squeeze of his hand, and flashes that grin to Roman in turn. "Nah, this is nothing, just a mugging story for work and extra foundation is all." She sounds like a battered wife-- Kin usually do when trying to explain battle wounds no matter where they came from.

From there, her attention is on Janis, and there's a solemn kind of nod before she moves to join the No Moon, to go with her wherever she'd taken the children.

"C'mon kiddo's, we're gonna get some hot chocolate and meet one of the nicest ladies on earth."

[Kora] Kora cuts a glance back over her shoulder as Janis comes back into the apartment. Steps back, turning to following the curl of gunsmoke through the half-finished rooms, considering the next room. Corpses - human or otherwise - laid out on the floor. She holds herself just apart here; that sense of inhumanity sharper in this moment than it ever is on an ordinary day. There's nothing close to a smile on her generous mouth, the sense of the animal is clear, alive underneath her skin, the monster in her - now - not just the wolf.

"She'll recover," Kora corrects Roman with a quiet sort of stillness, after a narrow, critical sweep of Drew's bruises; the way she moves. There's a question subsumed in the statement, which Drew is left to answer or not as she pleases.

"They'll live." The Skald tells Eli, taking a step back into the hall, watching the next room over as Janis returns. Her arms are crossed, beneath her breasts, over the swell of her stomach, underneath that is a feral tension imprinted on every muscles of her body.

"We're not calling a cab here, Roman." She contradicts her packmate, brief, quiet. "Don't want someone investigating this scene finding about a cab run. Call the Doc and Izzy. See if the Detective can run interference with whatever investigation comes next." She's still talking as Drew and Janis leave to round up the children, but she steps them both for a brief, quiet look. And a serious, direct, "Thank you." - before she lets them go.

[Roman Turner] He nodded, listening to his Alpha and makes the calls. First to Imogen, then to Izzy.

"This is Roman, we could use a ride and some help on clean up if ya could come."

[Eli Booker] The apartment is a 'shotgun' style unit. When you enter the door you're in the living room. Were you to turn to your left, you'd be faced with the dead and crumpled bodies of two middle age, middle class parents. They're dressed nicely - a wrong turn, bad directions on the GPS, probably brought them to this place. Most might say fate. Eli would just say their luck was just fucked today.

Turning to the left is a hallway. A bathroom is on the right. The kitchen is straight ahead. Kora and Roman and Janis can smell death. This place stunk of it. Nothing here, in this space, has died naturally. Not even the rats.

The strongest stench seems to roll from the bathroom...though neither Drew nor Eli had managed to venture that far into the unit.

Janis and Drew are taking the children to the nicest woman on earth. He watches the two Fenrir, then looks at the children before nodding to what Kora has said.

"I'll be fine." He says. And he would, because he had too.

[Roman Turner] If Eli wanted a ride with him, he'd beg it off Izzy or Imogen to get them back to the church. Either way, he would come back to help clean up. And they'd have to get hold of Linus for a cleansing.

[Janis Ian] The Rotagar can hear the rumble of noise in the back of her mind, the questions that want to know answers to what just happened, how Kora was going to handle the mess, the clean up, and then there are others when she peers back at the faces of the three children Drew and Janis must sneak three blocks to the kin's house to take them to Hill House.

A part of her is relieved that death does not have to come to such young faces - that she doesn't have to kill them.

She stops when Kora stops them with a brief quiet look. "Any time, rhya." She replies and leaves with Drew.

[missing some]

[Roman Turner] If Eli wanted a ride with him, he'd beg it off Izzy or Imogen to get them back to the church. Either way, he would come back to help clean up. And they'd have to get hold of Linus for a cleansing.

[Roman Turner] ((And I have over stayed my sleep time. Sorry so short, but appreciate the play. Thanks folks!))

[Eli Booker] Thanks Blu!

[Janis Ian] The Rotagar can hear the rumble of noise in the back of her mind, the questions that want to know answers to what just happened, how Kora was going to handle the mess, the clean up, and then there are others when she peers back at the faces of the three children Drew and Janis must sneak three blocks to the kin's house to take them to Hill House.

A part of her is relieved that death does not have to come to such young faces - that she doesn't have to kill them.

She stops when Kora stops them with a brief quiet look. "Any time, rhya." She replies and leaves with Drew.

[Detective Montoya] It's an odd thing, really. No one would guess that she would answer such a call, let alone make her way to come to their aid when it was asked. No one, of course, expects her to do anything but be trouble. Of course, she fosters such beliefs with her attitude, because it works for her. It keeps them at a distance. It makes it easier - for her.

She does, however, say three words into the phone. "On my way."

She's already in motion, getting the directions as she slips on her coat, long strides carrying her down the hall, out and too her car. By the time she's unlocked the door and settled inside, she's already flipped on the radio, to dispatch, to hear if she's going to have to do any interference before arriving, pulling out into traffic smoothly to head toward the apartment in question.

[Kora] "This place is deserted, yeah?" Kora asks Eli, dark eyes flickering ever so slightly up at Eli when he makes it to his feet. The height different between them is negligible, and she has a way of standing - a way of looking up - that makes her seem taller than she is.

Roman is dispatched downstairs with a moving though to await the arrival of reinforcements necessary for clean-up. She herself remains in the room, walking down the hallway toward the kitchen, feeling her gorge rise with the scent of death in the air. It's enough that she lifts a hand to her mouth, presses the back of her hand against her lips as she walks, puts her free hand on the door of the foul-smelling bathroom and listens as she holds herself away from the foul scent that comes from underneath the door.

"You and Drew heard something and came up?" A glance back down the hall at the kinswoman, dark eyes in a pale face, reflecting the ambient light spilling in through the windows. Head tipped then, meditatively considering whether the sirens she hears in the distance are coming here or just part of the urban landscape.

"I'm trying to figure out whether this is a rush job," that twist of her mouth, dry and distant. The clean up, she means. The inevitable grotesquerie of it. "Or if we have time to take our time."

[Eli Booker] This apartment building houses two units - one up and one down. It's empty and by the looks of it has been for some time. Every window is covered with plywood and the only light that bleeds in comes from cracks and gashes in the wood. She walks into the kitchen and there are dead rats, sucked dry of their blood and discarded like so much trash across the kitchen floor.

The bathroom, where Kora has to hold a hand to her mouth and nose to keep from taking in the reeking smell, is awful. There are two bodies in the bathtub - both pale with a lack of blood, their once dark brown skin faded, their mouths twisted into a grotesque grin. They are young men, dressed in common street attire and complete opposites from the family ambushed in front of the building.

Eli is standing, broad shoulders pressed to the wall bracing him up. His palms are rubbing his face as he listens to her walk ...bears her gaze on him and processes her words.

"Heard screams...then a car crash." Roman left him juice and Eli drinks it now finding his throat dry and sore. "We made it here but...we were too late for their parents I think..." Dark eyes cut toward where Kora should be, down the hall at his left.

"No one was here...this street was like a ghost town."

[Detective Montoya] There doesn't seem to be anything on dispatch - but that doesn't mean their won't be. She calls in and tells dispatch she's going to dinner, is thus off duty for a while, perhaps even the rest of the night. Then, she lights a cigarette, and takes a round about route toward the place in question. Just in case.

Soon enough, however, she arrives at the building in question, dark eyes sweeping the area as she parks the car. She pulls out a pair of gloves from the glove box - latex, blue [hands of blue, two by two] - and takes a final drag off her cigarette. She gets out, pausing to tuck the gloves into her pocket, before heading up the walk.

[Kora] Kora gives a dry husked laugh. There's no humor in it, nothing light. Just that grim certainty as she walks back down the hall, careful of the debris in the room now, alert but not rigid with it, as she steps over the debris, booted feet making a quiet, solid noise on the floor with each careful footfall.

She's back in the room now, at the end of the hallway, hands in the front pockets of her jeans, arms close to her body - mostly concealed by her dark gray hoodie. It's cold in here; the night coming in through the plywood boarding over the windows, cold enough that they can see their breath. Not cold enough to keep the dead from rotting, though. Sinking into themselves, deliquescing in the stark, cold air.

"Probably for the best," she says, of the parents. A winnowing sort of certainty there. "The parents would've been a problem, if they'd lived." Another flicker of her gaze - not precisely to his eyes, but over his face; the lines of care in it; or rather, the lines of care underneath the skin, evident only from this angle. From that expression.

"I'll have Izzy give you a ride back to the church, then. See if you can can get the parents' car out of here. Find someplace to dump it so this disappearance doesn't come back to this neighborhood, yeah?" A flickering look, up and sidelong, gaze shearing away toward a shuttered window. sO there aren't implications. So there's no investigation - not a close one, anyway.

"That tow truck of yours will come in handy." She pauses, quiet - that hint of a far away look - before she refocuses on the immediate. "You're alright, then?"

She pauses, waiting for the affirmative that is sure to follow. "Good, I'll have Linus check you out. We'll do a cleansing if necessay before the night's over. I'll want to hear the story too, you know."

A twist of her mouth, straightening her head as hidden communication writes itself across her face. "Izzy's here." Roman tipping her off.

[Kora] alright darlings, I need to sleeeeeeeeeeeeeep. :) but lo! there is a scene where izzy and eli can keep playing and/or hook up with drew/janis later. while kora roman and NPC imogen clean up.
to Detective Montoya, Eli Booker, Peek

[Eli Booker] Thanks Liz!
to Detective Montoya, Kora, Peek

[Detective Montoya] [Sleep well! :) ]
to Eli Booker, Kora