Ornature

[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'."

[Balance Without Fault] [folks, it was pointed out to me that kieran was the only uktena in town, and ergo the default uktena alpha. if anyone has him in AIM, call him back in!]

[Gina McClaren] *Gina'd come home late, but that hadn't stopped the pikey from being in the kitchen and underfoot since early morning. The more time she spent at Jenny's elbow, the more likely it was the saintly blonde would let slip the secrets to her cranberry oat-muffins. As folks file in the Strider pickpocket finally emerges from the kitchen, long hair bound in a messy loop off her neck, floury hand marks on the dull black of her skirt, tank top askew, a smudge of icing sugar across a caramel shoulder. She hops up on a stool near the back, as far removed from those of her tribe as she can get. God knew her voice would carry if she had anything to say in earnest. Those she knows get nods of recognition, and a worn smile.*

[Carter Roth] Carter is present, but he remains close to the exit his hands deep within his pockets and his eyes wary and mistrustful, he didnt know what this was all about and he didnt like it one bit.

But he was here, as a test of himself and a test of the garou, to see what they were up to. He couldn't very well pass up that now could he.

[Carter is here, but I may not be going to be on and off]

[Rosie] The certain Bone Gnawer kinfolk finds a seat near or by or somewhere in the vicinity of Hunter. She sits: quiet and unobtrusive.

[Amunet Knezevic] Amunet made her way in quietly, several minutes before the meeting was to start. She's in her own jacket, and the iPad has been left at the condo. She remembers very few times in her life when she has been this nervous. When so much has been riding on a single night.

Moving to the far side of the room, she finds a spot where she can watch the comings and goings, back against the wall to protect herself from surprises. Her eyes flicker around the room as it populates, but the only one they rest on more than a second or two is her sister.

[Holden] A grizzly bearded Fenrir takes a seat out of the way, he doesn't suppose he will have much to say so the distance does him well.

[August Grant] Oh good! Someone to watch the baby! August likes Jenny - afterall, they spent a lot of time hanging out in the kitchen when August lived here..

The young woman gives Jenny a smile. "Of course.. I didn't have anyone else to watch her.. Thank you. Tell Reuben she might be hungry.." Ella gets a kiss on the side of her head and the baby is lifted from her arms and offered out to the kin.. a moment later, the diaper bag is also offered out.

[Starla Navarro] There is a painted Unicorn that has joined the others, Starla following on Rain's heels easily, ducking her head down as she finds a seat next to her tribe mate. Dark head lifting to look around, skirting her eyes across the room at the faces that were familiar and not; the freckles dance across the bridge of her nose and her left cheek. She tucks her hands in her lap, leaning to the side to nudge Rain's shoulder with her own.

[Kyle] (Not going to post for Kyle unless he has something to say or someone asks him questions other wise he's just doing his usual watch and listen routine :) )

[Bridget Geroux] The Canadian Fianna kinfolk finds herself at this gathering in her usual state of confusion. She doesn't look quite like she knows what's going on. However, she doesn't appear to be under the influence of anything. She wears a simple black maxi dress, gathered at the waist by a beat-up leather belt, a hunter green jacket covering her bare shoulders, and of course her combat boots.

Bridget finds a place to sit where she can stretch her legs: she knows she'll probably want to fidget if the Rage gets a bit much. She also wisely follows Izzy's lead by getting herself a small glass of whiskey. She returns and smiles at the few here she recognizes and is on good terms with: Hunter, Gina, Kyle, Sarita. The Fianna kinswoman does her best to control the feral urges to move around while surrounded by so much Rage.

[Kora] A cool spring evening; spring already, light lingering in the west far longer than she had remembered. The heavily pregnant Fenrir - eight months, perhaps more? - pushes past the private party signs, into the familiar restaurant interior. Her hair is twisted into a loose braid, strands pulled free by the wind. Kora is slower than she was; careful of her body. She walks with her shoulders pulled further back to balance the weight of her stomach. Which is all the more evident when she strips off her winter coat and sets it aside on a coat tree, wrapping a hand-knitted scarf around it in a winding pattern.

She finds her way among her kin, but does not take a seat. Instead, she remains standing at their back, her feet shoulder-width apart, her arms crossed - below her breasts, above the swell of her stomach. There is an expectant tension in her spine and shoulders, and a firm set to her jaw.

[Derek Anderson] Derek came in, dressed in pants and sweater, his kind blue eyes looking around. He bowed respectfully to Balance Without Fault, did the same for Lukas and walked around, greeting those he knew a little with a nod: Hunter, Amunet, Gina, Matthieu and Jackson when the last two arrive.

He nodded and smiled slightly at Sarita when he see her. Izzy received a grin when he pass her by "Hello Detective"

His attention then was on August and Rain, offering htem a warm smile and walking to them "Good evening ladies, I hope you're doing well"

[Danicka Musil] [I'm totally making Damon post Danicka in with Lukas. I'm in the middle of eating. :p ]

[Wyrmbreaker] Punctual, Lukas arrives moments before Balance lays down the protocol for the meeting. And not in his own car but in Danicka's, riding shotgun while scarfing down the last of whatever dinner they went out to. Looks like lamb-stuffed cabbage.

Getting out, anyone looking out the windows can see him stepping out of her car, buttoning his overcoat against the wind. He moves ahead to get the door; she laughs, running a few steps after him, which makes him turn around, which gives her the opportunity to lean up and wipe a dab of tomato-based sauce from his cheek. And kiss him.

Public displays of affection out of his system, Wyrmbreaker is somber and dignified, walking in the door. He sees that his wingback chair is taken, the other cleared away. He goes to sit by the bar instead, where Danny hovers with a nervous grin.

"No drinks here tonight, Mr. Wyrmbreaker. Grand Elder says all the food and alcoholic drink is to be served in the kitchen. Nothing but ice water here."

Lukas huffs a laugh under his breath. "Not a problem, Danny." He takes a seat on a barstool, shifting one a little closer for Danicka.

[Matthieu] Matthieu arrives on time, even a little early. Ever the peacock the lovely Silver Fang arrives just in time to display the finely crafted suit that he has doubtless poured six months of your average man's salary into getting each and every thread just right. His entrance was as much a display of his tribes divine right as it was a display of his own natural beauty. Not only was he the representative of his Auspice on the council now but he also stood as Alpha of Harrier's grace. He was a living representative not only of his tribe but his house as well. Ever regal and dignified. His skin was smooth and pale and his hair looked as if it had been kissed by the golden rays of the sun itself. Falcon's child carried with him the legacy of a house, and the history and hopes of an entire nation.

He listened to Balances without Fault and nods in agreement with the rules. He was here to listen, and to speak when it was needed. Tradition would be the focus of his reasons for being here. Support of tradition and remembrance of ancient ways. His blood ran hot with the memories of a past tens of thousands of years old. A creature of the modern world and yet still firmly grounded in the wisdom of eras ling since passed.

He keeps his eyes forward most of the time. However, when he is finally seated his eyes do drift somewhere to the back. His eyes drawing in to focus on the Strider kin hiding in the back. Pausing to give his own acknowledgement of her presence. His eyes take the time to wander, perhaps linger, and the act brings a slight smile to his lips a smile which might or might not be shared by the both of them. None the less... His eyes were hard pressed to pull themselves away, and in fact he didn't see any reason to draw them away until the meeting officially started.

[Joey] Joey enters with Hunter and his kinswoman, but once they're through the door departs their company to sit closer to the rest of the auspice council. A smile is offered to those she recognizes, dim compared to what it used to be, an upward nod to Balance Without Fault, and Lukas.

Once she's settled, she seeks out Hunter, meets his gaze, and grins.

[Kieran Mondblume] *He looks a little bit intimidated, all things considered, as he walks into the meeting. He finds a place to sit. His shirt is a lovely shade of light purple; his jeans are black. His flip-flops, a lovely shade of maroon. Lukas' words make his head swivel, and his eyes widen. Food? No... ice water. He slumps slightly, disappointed, as he waits for everything to begin.*

[Balance Without Fault] [Sorry for the confusion - "no drinks here tonight" was spoken by Danny, bartender kid NPC kin! I'll try to keep all my NPCing in this name.]

[Delilah Marciano] Back of the room, quiet as a dormouse; the Glass Walker makes an appearance. Dark hair gathered up from her shoulders, she sits alone at one of the tables in the back of the room, whichever was closest to the front. The phone in her hand muted as she set it on the table, dressed in dark charcoal pantsuit with red pinstripe. Silvery gaze focused on those around her.

[Kieran Mondblume] ((Ahh hell. *smacks forehead* My bad.))

[Balance Without Fault] When everyone has settled, Balance Without Fault picks up the magic eightball and speaks again.

"Okay, let's come to order. Some of you might be wondering why this meeting was called. The reason is simple: over the last month, there have been more rumors and murmurs of kin discontent than in the past five years. Furthermore, there's been a troubling trend toward Kin thinking of themselves as separate and distinct from the Garou when we are all part of the same Nation. I wanted to dispel the rumors, clear the air, set a basic infrastructure down, and move on from tonight as a re-unified force.

"With that in mind, let's hear from the kin first. What exactly are your concerns or complaints at the moment?"

He tosses the eightball toward the first kin to call for it.

[Adamidas] Adam slips in and, for the time being, keeps her mouth shut. She doesn't draw attention to herself, or the fact that she left the bathroom with a pop and keeps herself quietly nestled in.

[Balance Without Fault] [For latecomers who missed it, this was BwF's protocol post --

"Welcome, everyone. Thanks for coming. Here are the rules tonight: one speaker at a time. He or she who holds the magic eight ball," and he holds this aloft, "speaks. No one else.

"Keep a respectful tone, particularly to those of greater rank. For those of equal rank, the Auspice Council holds precedence over the Tribal Alphas. For kin, those with renown hold precedence over those without.

"In case of dispute, we will not go to challenges because of the mixed crowd. A Philodox will be called upon to mediate. If mediation fails, I am the final arbiter.

"Anyone violating these rules once will be given one warning, and one only. After that, you're out of the meeting, and your viewpoint will be disregarded. The staff has kindly set up refreshments in the kitchen. If you feel yourself getting hot under the collar, go get a drink and come back when you're calmer."]

[Amunet Knezevic] [Dibs, unless anyone is going to claim it?]

[Balance Without Fault] [whoever types fastest, man.]

[Balance Without Fault] [and on that note, since we're a scene of twenty-seven right now -- let's try to keep posts short and snappy. i know i'm one of the chief offenders here, but i'm really going to try to keep responses to

[Joey] [yeah that's pretty short!]

[Amunet Knezevic] "Balance Without Fault Rhya." Deep breath, Ames. "My name is Amunet Knezevic. I am that one that placed the notice on the board, and the one who has been organizing the willing kinfolk. I believe that this in part may be the cause of the perception of discontent. I would like to clear up any confusion, as our intentions may not be as clear as they should be."

[Balance Without Fault] [okay, i changed my mind -- go ahead and call dibs if you have a longer post to type so you don't lose your chance. but i'm gonna say you have 10 min from the time you call dibs to get it out, just to keep things moving!]

Balance nods. "Let's hear it."

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[She says she's almost done, it's a biggie!]]

[Danicka Musil] The Happy Couple -- and frankly, they are, however smirkingly saccharine the nomenclature -- comes in together, but they leave their more obvious public displays of affection at the door. Danicka is wearing a knee-length gray skirt and knee-high black heels, beneath which are a pair of stockings that extend a little higher than the boots themselves. Her peacoat is doffed when she comes in, hung over the back of a chair no one is using that's been shoved over by the bar. Underneath is a casual, gauze-thin sweater of seafoam green, laid atop the hint of a camisole. There's a white applique in some abstract pattern to one side of chest of the sweater, but all of this is just [window] dressing.

Danicka Musil is not the most renowned Kinswoman in Chicago. Not by far. But she is the most renowned Kinfolk here. The Garou, if they ever mention her to each other, if the spirits ever talk about her, don't talk much about how many fomori she's killed or that one time she shot a zombie or so forth. She's known to be brave, to be a Good Kinswoman. Mostly, she's known to be wise. Granted, when she comes up, it's hardly even by name. Garou call her Wyrmbreaker-rhya's mate. And they say that Wyrmbreaker-rhya's mate is clever, isn't she? Oh yes, I've heard she's a bit of a bright one.

It's childish. It's condescending. But that she is known to be anything at all beyond the mate of an Adren who has not yet given him a child, and that her reputation is solid as a Good Kin is impressive at all. She can't cast rites, she can't learn gifts. She can just be... a clever little thing. Good job, Wyrmbreaker. Now stop dicking around and knock her up.

When the magic 8-ball is first offered to the kin, it's Amunet -- rightly so -- who reaches for it. Danicka, perhaps there just as a show of support for her comrades, perhaps just because she's supposed to be there and she's obedient, turns her eyes towards the Strider she met with last night, her murky green eyes interested. Thoughtful.

[Amunet Knezevic] "My intention is to gather the interested kinfolk in a network that will help the Trueborn, not work against them. Among the first concerns that are being addressed are training and information."

Her eyes flicker to Sarita, then back to Balance. "It is necessary for us to be able to contact one another easily, not only in emergencies but in everyday circumstances where one of us may need another's expertise. One of the first projects will be a listing of the kin and their contact information. This will be heavily guarded, not because I don't want the information to be accessible but because I understand the danger of this type of thing getting into the wrong hands. Cordelia and Jackson have volunteered to begin this process, and to make sure that the information is secure."

Our second focus is going to be self defense training. We are human, at the end of the day. We can't count on the Trueborn to be our protectors when they have a war to fight. Carter has extensive self defense training, and he has offered to run a boot camp of sorts for those who are interested. As with everything that we are working toward, it will be voluntary. I don't want to force any kin to join us, or accept any sort of training except for the third focus."

She stops for breath. "I would like to see every kin trained in basic first aid. This accomplishes two purposes. Should any of us be injured, there will likely be someone close by to help. Again, we are human. We don't heal ourselves, and we are out in the world. The dangers that we face come not only from our enemies, but from the people that we are surrounded with every day.

I've seen an amazing number of Trueborn that are more than willing to step up and heal a kin that is injured. This is honorable, but wasteful. Again, we are at war. We could be attacked at any time, and should that happen, which of the kin would be responsible for sapping a Trueborn's gnosis by being healed out of panic or unnecessarily. Prepared kin are kin that are not a drain on the Nation's resources."

Her fingers run in her hair nervously, and she licks her bottom lip before continuing. "I've been in a Sept that was attacked. I have a clearer understanding of what happens than some of the kin do. I watched kin die, because no one was able to triage them. I watched kin die, because they had all become complacent and lazy and spoiled by well meaning Trueborn. I have friends here. I don't want to see the same thing happen again. That is why I've made this move. That is why these three goals are my first"

[Balance Without Fault] "That's all well and good," Balance replies as the eightball comes back to him, "and I'm glad to hear you're trying to organize the kin. See to it that the Warder has a list of these kin and contacts as well. Areas of specialization, too, if possible. We had something like that for a while, but the parties responsible for its maintenance drifted off.

"Regarding self defense and basic first aid -- that sounds like a wise investment. We've got a few kin who are accomplished physicians. You might want to get their input. As for self defense, Imogen Slaughter's known to be a crack shot. Izzy Montoya and Derek Anderson are both with the police; surely they know how to handle a gun as well. You might want to seek their services as well.

"But all that aside -- Amunet, you've told me everything that's working. Or that you want to be working, at least. I'm asking why I keep hearing murmurs of discontent."

[Amunet Knezevic] "Some of the kin that have shown interest are not content, Rhya. Trueborn have become accustomed to dictating to us, and the kin have become accustomed to allowing it. Not only here, but other places where several of the new kin have come from, bringing their biases with them. This has bred discontent. I am in no way suggesting that we should be treated as equals. The fact is that we are not. I would suggest though that we are kept informed, so that when decisions are made and passed down, they do not seem arbitrary and dictatorial. Your kin are willing to work together with the Trueborn, Rhya. We just need a path to follow."

[Balance Without Fault] Balance Without Fault considers Amunet a moment. Then he sweeps a glance around the room.

"I don't want to put you under a microscope this early in the night, Amunet." Maybe that's a joke. The half-smile says it is. He raises his voice, "Let's hear from someone other than Amunet. Kinfolk of Maelstrom, this might be one of the few or only times in your life that the Elder Council and the Tribal Alphas of an entire Sept are gathered, silent, with open ears -- waiting to hear from you.

"If you've got issues, bring them forward."

[Jackson Montgomery] [[DIBS!]]

[Izzy Montoya] She hadn't intended to talk. In fact, she hadn't intended to make a sound at all, but at that, she snorts. Audibly. But that is all, as she starts the ritual search through her pockets for her cigarettes and lighter. she finds both - but doesn't put them to use other than to keep her hands busy.

After all - smoking inside is against the law.

[Jackson Montgomery] He stands, perhaps unexpectedly, and goes to claim the magic 8-Ball. "I think, if I can speak to this, that a lot of the reported discontent is simple due to the fact that some of the initial ideas being brainstormed are coming out and they aren't even formalized yet. And some Garou have been volunteering their involvement...which is great. There's been an impression that this is quickly becoming Garou vs. kinfolk, and that's not the case.

"The thing is, when a lot of Garou get heavily involved in this, even in the planning stage, it belies the fact that it goes right back to the idea that the kinfolk are relying on the Garou instead of standing on their own. I've been talking a lot with Amunet about this, and we've come up with some good ideas. And at no point are we trying to push this into two separate factions. But the old saying goes, too many cooks spoil the soup, and there are a lot of kinfolk even as it is with very different viewpoints. We absolutely plan to make this a thing where we're all involved in the same mission, but we need an actual plan in place for what we're doing before we start implementing that and integrating it with the Garou side."

[Balance Without Fault] Balance Without Fault's eyes swing immediately to Izzy. When he gets the eightball back, he tosses it toward her.

"You sounded like you wanted to be heard, Izzy. Let's hear it."

[August Grant] August shifted in her chair. It was slightly uncomfortable for her to sit in the same position for too long these days. A slender hand rubbed at the side of her belly - perhaps where a persistent foot was intent on kicking her. She didn't say anything.

No matter the extent of her past issues with this Sept.. in her mind, all were resolved as well as they could be at the moment. And, given that her cheating, lying, deadbeat, no good, s-o-b of a former mate had fled, she was a happy camper. Her gaze did shift to her tribesmate as he stood, however.

[Nash] Oh crap when did he get here.

Nash, who most here don't recognize but for the breeding that pegs him as one of Fenris's Kin, slips in quietly as Amy is discussing her desire to see Kinfolk trained in first aid. He works his way around the room to stand near Kora and tries to get his happy ass caught up while his player does paperwork.

[Kieran Mondblume] *He watches, back and forth. From Amy, to Jackson, and then to Izzy. Waiting, really, curious about all of this.*

[Izzy Montoya] She arches a brow, ups both her cigarettes and lighter into one hand and still catches the 8ball with a negligent ease. There are some things that become inherrant when one works in a male dominated workplace - like catching random objects being thrown at her.

She waits a moment, then two. She doesn't look to Kora for permission as some might. She looks to no one - which is not unexpected from anyone that knows her in anyway at all. She is, and always will be, her own person. He wants to hear it. So he does.

"It's bullshit. You sit there and say you want to hear, you want to fuckin' listen, and it's all fuckin' bullshit. Not a one of you give two shits about what we do or don't do, unless it directly involves you. Not a one gives two shits about what we might have to do for you in our jobs, what we might have to compromise in order to save your fuckin' asses in a world you think you're above - even while declaring you want to fuckin' save it. Not a one of you.. not even Kora, whom I've grown to respect, did shit all when I was beat by one of you, imprisoned here of all fuckin' places, and sent to work with injuries so severe that half my department wanted to come after whoever had fucked me up with guns blazing. Not a one of you gives two fuckin' shits - and this is all a fuckin' sham."

He hears it. Both barrels.

She points at Amy. "That bitch has been lookin to get her goose cooked since she got here. And the latest scheme? Good god. she's gonna get us all fuckin' killed. And likely not by the enemy. Discontent." she snorts again. "I won't fuckin talk for anyone else - and don't you dare speak for me either, I can get my ass beat all by myself - it doesn't matter what you say here. In the end - you all will do what you want, and I'll do my fuckin job just as I always have, and do a goddamn good job of it. I'll cover my ass, your ass, everyone's ass who I can manage to cover - but don't expect me to believe that - for one fuckin second - you give a good goddamn what happens in the world we have to travel through every goddamn day. You don't. You haven't yet - and one night won't make it so."

To her credit though - not once does she raise her voice. If anything.. she sounds... tired.

[Danicka Musil] [Dibs!]

[Balance Without Fault] "Keep your tone respectful," Balance says evenly. "That's your only warning."

That's all he says for now. He lobs the eightball toward Danicka.

[Gina McClaren] *Restless as Striders were wont to be, Gina hops down from her stool, sashays into the kitchen, and fetches herself a couple of deep-fried wontons filed with hazelnut chocolate and cream cheese.
She pads back into the room midway through the detective's speech, and settles on her stool once more.

Izzy finishes up, and Gina's expression darkens a moment.

Then the detective has to use those finely honed reflexes again in short order. As a pikey whistles sharply then overhand tosses a wonton to the weary Fenris kin. Whether in agreement or simply in a bid to get her to cram it - only the guttersnipe herself knows.*

[Nash] Nash claps a few times after Izzy finishes. Not a purposefully sarcastic Slow Clap, but it is a bit on the slow side anyway. He seems to be favoring his right wrist. It lasts a few seconds, and then he stops at the Grand Elder's warning to keep a respectful tone.

[Hunter] Holden wanders through the room to stand next to Nash and the other Fenrir. He gives a nod to the equally tall man from the north [south] along with a grin of approval.

[Hunter] [OOPS]

[Izzy Montoya] She catches the wonton. Easily.

And manages not to point out that she WAS respectful. For her.

[Danicka Musil] Everyone in the room is free to judge according to their own perspectives what it says about Danicka that when Balance Without Fault lobs the 8-ball at her, she doesn't even try to catch it. She actually flinches somewhat out of the way, and it's Lukas who snatches the thing out of the air, handing it to her. Some will call her oblivious that she doesn't seem chagrined or embarrassed as she takes it from him. She's a slender sort, not remotely athletic from the look of her.

Sometimes Garou hear of what she's done to minions of the Wyrm, see her, say, Her?

Holding the ball in cupped palms, she speaks up for the first time, her tone clear and level. She addresses Balance Without Fault. "A lot of what Detective Montoya just said is true. Amunet, as well. We aren't... like you," she says, though in a tone that suggests even she realizes how weak that statement is, how far it falls from encompassing the truth. "No matter how much we care about our families, about the world we live in, or about the war -- and I think all of us do care, though to wildly different degrees and in different ways -- we don't form ourselves naturally into packs. We are not asked to give everything, a hundred percent, to fighting this war. For Garou, the war is everything. Anything else is marginalized, because it has to be.

"For Kinfolk," she goes on, "it's the opposite. We live our lives. I go to school, Detective Montoya goes to the precinct, August feeds and diapers her children, Gina dances, we all... have a life. The war, however important it is to us individually, often comes as an intrusion to the rest of who we are and what we do."

Danicka quiets for a small pause, clears her throat, but doesn't give up the 8-ball. "Sometimes when we get hurt, Garou come running. Sometimes they don't. Sometimes when there's a fight on our doorstep, we have to fight it because there's no way to run fast enough. Other times we have to give it up as though that's the natural, only course of action." Another beat, this one for effect more than to breathe. "The truth of what Detective Montoya says is this: most, if not all Garou, spend the majority of their time focused on things that have nothing to do with us. We are expected to carry on by ourselves without them, unless they show up. And if they do show up, usually without warning and sometimes even without need, we are expected to drop everything to obey them.

"-Rhya, all of us have our own prejudices and biases and differing levels of committment -- as well as angst. All of us care. But the discontent comes when we are kept to the sides all of the time, then told to shut up and submit the moment a garou ten or twenty years our junior shows up and acts like they're our protector. I think what Amunet and her alliance are trying to do is to increase our involvement so that at least the marginalization is lessened. But the discontent is already there. The frustration. The affront, frankly."

She stops there. She could go on. But she's talked a great deal, and she silences for now.

[Bridget Geroux] [Dibs]

[Danicka Musil] [Other times we have to give it up and let the Garou fight for us as though that's the natural, only course of action. GAH!]

[Kora] Nash comes in; the Skald gives him a side glance. It lingers a long moment longer than it otherwise might; then her attention is back on the center of the room. The thin cotton of her extra-long tunic pulls over her shoulders, muscles bunching with a subtle tension, mostly withheld. Her long braid swings down the dip of her spine. A faint lift of her chin, watching Holden weave through the room to join the tribe; a brief glance in Gina's direction follows after, before her attention returns to the center of the room, following the movement of the eight-ball to Danicka. Once, she shifts positions. Widens her stance, leans further back, relieving some of the unending pressure on her spine. Uncrosses and recrosses her arms.

[Bridget Geroux] Bridget sighs when it comes around her direction, careful to look at the eight ball when she holds it up. "Balance Without Fault Rhya, thank you for putting it in the light that we are all a part of the Nation. My name is Bridget Geroux. I know that every Sept is different, and I don't have any expectations, but the Sept I am from is much smaller. We know each other well, and there is structure. Here, I don't see the unity. I see reluctance, pain, anguish, and I see anger and pride disconnecting us from one another. Kin from kin, kin from tribesmen... and I wouldn't presume to understand what goes on among Garou, but if that same disconnect exists on that level... it worries me."

"And despite the recent bonding efforts to organize the kinfolk, I see a disconnect there as well. It's a great idea, a great application, a wise and honorable action, but even with the application, I notice those same destructive traits. Just last week, I noticed a separation when a well-meaning Garou was not trying to interfere, but possibly trying to bridge gaps between Garou and kinfolk within Amunet's... organization, fellowship. Whatever it will be called. And the way she jealously guards it and some others have just jumped on without gauging the situation seems too much like a Jonestown situation to me."

Bridget takes a breath, exercising great efforts not to swear or fidget. "Maybe this is my own experience, but since I've moved here I have never felt more disconnected to my tribe despite my attempts to bridge gaps. At what point should I just go about my business, despite everything my father taught me? I'm... going to open myself up here and speak as truly as I possibly can, but it hurts me to have such a tentative relationship with the other Fianna."

"This is all perhaps touching on the path Amunet spoke of, but I wouldn't presume to speak for anyone but myself. I'm not good with a gun or first aid, but I know how to survive in the wilderness with nothing... I know how to work crowds, to work a public social setting. I know I'm not useless, but I feel that way when it comes to the Nation when my offers and talents are dismissed so quickly and without regard to its usefulness. I know how to stand well enough on my own, and I've done as much as I can to contribute... but I feel as if there is no point when I'm told to stay inside, discouraged from doing what I'm good at, and still held at such a distance. It's all too condescending."

Bridget looks to Izzy now, then sighs. "In a lot of ways, I feel exactly like no one gives a damn whether or not we all rot, what we have to go through or put up with and barely even a hint of recognition, if any of that even matters. I feel like many of us are just a bunch of wild things kept in guilded cages. If you keep any living thing from doing what it's supposed to do, that's not a life worth living. I don't know what else to do but be discontent when I'm expected to stay out of the woods, don't go make music or connections, don't spend so much time out in the world doing what I do. I can follow orders, do what needs to be done, but I'm not a machine."

[Balance Without Fault] [dibs!]

[Balance Without Fault] "I want to take a moment to clarify the purpose of this meeting.

"Jackson, I heard you about needing to get the kin coalition in order before plugging it into the grander framework of the Nation. I agree. Bridget, Izzy, I've heard from you both that the way things are going in the coalition are not optimal at the moment. But we're not here to discuss the kinfolk coalition alone. We should address it more thoroughly, and we will -- in a moment.

"We're not here to discuss how Garou interface with the world, either, Izzy. We're not here to change the way Garou and kin interact, because that -- as Danicka points out -- has been set for thousands of years. As you yourself have pointed out, it won't change in a night.

"As much as you may feel downtrodden and unappreciated, realize that every last Garou in this room, on this planet, will die before age thirty. And they give this sacrifice so that you have a human world to interface in, just as you sacrifice your job and career and human life to support these Garou. The sacrifice goes both ways. And while you might not like it, we are in the end Gaia's army. There is a ranking order, and it is dictated, ultimately, by our renown.

"But I digress. What we can do, what I want to do here tonight -- specifically, without speaking in broad terms and vagueries -- is to address points of discontent amongst the kin. I have specific incidents in my mind that I want to discuss, but I want to hear from the kin first.

"If nothing else, no matter how she brought it up -- Izzy has noted some sources of discontent for herself. For that, I thank you, Detective Montoya.

"She Who Offers Sorrow, your kinfolk has raised an complaint about the way she's been treated in the past. She says she's been beaten and unfairly imprisoned. See to her concerns. If you decide her past punishment was just, then so be it. If it was unjust, make amends as you best see fit.

"Before we move on to other topics, are there any other specific grievances the kin wish to bring forth?"

[Rain McKellar] [Dibs, please!]

[Danicka Musil] Her eyes flick to the Grand Elder when he brings her up, gives at least one interpretation of what she said. She doesn't ask for the 8-ball again though.

[Balance Without Fault] [erp. "will MOST LIKELY die before age thirty." seeing as how BWF is like... 45.]

[Carter Roth] [Dibs after Rain]

[Jackson Montgomery] [["You're all gonna die before 30...except me. For I am Elite."]]

[August Grant] {Very short dibs after Rain + Carter}

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Sarita could be accused, often, of not taking things seriously enough. When your deed name is "Echoes of Laughter," it's a natural course of people's thoughts on how you will react. She's stayed quiet here, sitting near her Alpha and watching...listening. She doesn't give anyone a particularly strong reaction when they speak. Amy gets a slight smile; Izzy a little frown. The others, she remains even-tempered, thoughtful.

The Strider is doing her best to listen and learn. She's not even tapping her toe to some sort of tacky dance pop crap.

[Rain McKellar] The girl who rises to claim the magic eight ball next has nothing in her blood that calls out to her Tribe. She has no renown among them. Cloistered as she is with the rest of Unicorn's kin, this gives some suggestion as to her allegiances.

Catching the eight-ball is only part of the struggle, here. And before she addresses the Grand Elder, her glance slides sideways to the Fenrir Jarl. Her shoulders square, and she calms herself a bit.

"Mr. Grand Elder, sir," she begins, and her voice rises easily above the gathering. Unexpectedly warm. Captivating, it calls attention to her in ways that might surprise them.

"My name is Rain McKellar, and before I was kin to Unicorn's chosen, I was Lost." She says this plainly. "The places I have been treated their kinfolk much differently than here, and I appreciate that you have called us together and allowed us to air our concerns.

"I have no complaints about how I have been treated by my Tribe, nor by the pack that I live with. My Family has been good to me, perhaps better than they should have been by some of what others have said tonight. If I can help in any way, so that kindness and shelter can be extended to others, please let me know."

Here she swallows and looks down at the eight ball for a moment.

"If I have any complaint it is that, in the intention of being helpful or showing their concern, some True offer up conflicting information. I am concerned about the thing that is hunting Kinfolk. I would like to know, plainly put, what best I should do to protect myself and to help your war efforts. If this has already been communicated to the Tribal and pack Alphas, then I will seek answers with Mr. Roman or Miss Kora."

She walks across the circle to hand back the eight-ball.

"Thank you for your time, sirs and madams."

And then Rain retakes her seat.

[Wyrmbreaker] [Quick dibs. And sorry, Lukas is pulling rank to get it for a sec!]

[Wyrmbreaker] Wyrmbreaker, who has thus far sat quietly except to catch the ball for Danicka, raises his hand after Rain speaks. The eightball comes his way.

"I can answer that for you, Rain. The specifics of what kin should be doing is up to each Tribal Alpha. Obey whatever order they give you. As a general rule, I'd strongly suggest getting to a place where you're protected by the Garou of your tribe. If there's no such place available to you, come to the Brotherhood.

"As far as I'm concerned, you can chance it on your own if you really don't want to move. But I don't suggest it."

Carter's hand is up. Lukas tosses the eightball his way.

[Bridget Geroux] Seeing as her concern over being told specifically not to do what it is she does, what she's good at, was basically glossed over, Bridget goes and gets herself something to eat. She needs to gather her thoughts for a second, fidget as she needs to with all the Rage in the room, before the Fianna kin can take her seat again. There's a lot to think over.

[Carter Roth] Carter had had quite enough at this point. If no one would take up that magic 8 ball and speak the voice of the malcontent then he would. He strode forward taking the eight ball for himself and turned to face the garou who were gathered all powerful, all alpha's or elder's in their right and he held the eight ball in one heavy hand as he spoke.

"I refuse to be ruled by those who will not see me as their equal." He lets those few treasonous words sink in as he looks across the garou, his eyes falling upon kin in equal measure. "In many places, by many of your kind we are treated like Chattel, little more then servants waiting to be used. I will not argue that here I have seen generous activity that would enrage the masters of these places for that you should be praised. But it is not enough." He shakes his head slowly.

"Unlike the detective, who will stand and do her duty even as she knows your disregard for the kin who work tirelessly beneath your gaze. I will not, not without equality." He pauses. "Without it, we are susceptible to every monster of your kind, every garou who believes we ARE nothing but here to serve your whim. Tell me why we should accept our lot as it stands, tell me how it makes sense that such actions continue unabated against those you call your allies, your lovers, your friends. Is an ally told to be silent because you do not like his tone? Do you force a friend to become the mate of another simply because of what lies within their veins?" He lets that settle there, lets it hang, many knew of such instances, quite often they were regular occurances.

He takes another moment to look about. "We are all capable, we are all skilled in our own ways. But we are marginalized, we are shunted aside till we are expected to serve and we will hold our tongues and be greatful for it. I will not." He looks at Balance Without Fault. "You have said yourself that these things will not change, that they have existed for thousands of years, change it, if you hold to any future that means something for all of us...change it. You wished to hear of discontent, there it lies."

Carter lets the 8 ball go then and he takes his place against the wall once more. His gaze even and suspicious as it was when he first stepped forward.

[Matthieu] [If I can I'd like to call Dibs after umm August!]

[Kieran Mondblume] *He is waiting, listening to all of the opinions, and he is starting to look a little concerned.*

[Nash] [Dibs are for the weak! (I'm sorry!)]

Nash doesn't bother with the eightball. When he speaks, after Lukas and Carter have gone, he has a heavy Southern drawl. His voice isn't terribly loud, and like Izzy, he sounds tired.

"Kinda telling, ain't it?" he asks. "You got two Kin waiting to talk but a Trueborn can just butt on in?"

[Balance Without Fault] [BWF takes the eightball!]

[Izzy Montoya] She says nothing more - but she does step to the side and light up that cigarette after all. Someone can call the cops if they've got a problem with it.

[Amunet Knezevic] "Because we are NOT equal!" She snaps it, then falls instantly silent again.

[August Grant] August swallows. Did she really.. really want to go after that? Geezus christ - she was rather surprised when there wasn't fur flying.

Once the magic-8 ball was gently -passed- in her direction, the young woman stood. She cleared her throat just a little, trying to work up the courage to speak in a room full of this many important people. She never quite looked the Elder in the eyes, but.. was looking somewhat towards him, maybe at his feet. {oooh.. where'd you get those shoes?}

"Rhya.. s.. since you wanted to know about the discontent from us.. I figured I should mention mine. My mate, up and left me for another, knowing full well I was already carrying a second child for this nation. His child. He left with me with no one to protect me and my cub. The mere fact that no one at the time thought this a grevious act was insulting. It bred resentment.. and.. until I found allies within my tribe.. " she motioned to those seated near by, "I wasn't at all content. Things have resolved at this point and I am fine with my lot in life. But things like that - ignoring these big giant world tearing apart events - is going to drive a wedge between us."

A brief pause. "That is all.. thank you for your time.." A hand smoothed her sweater over her belly and she again took her seat, passing on the ball.

[Starla Navarro] Starla's head snaps up, she turns and twists in her seat to stare right at Amunet, her eyes narrowing on the kin that snaps out her words. The corners of her mouth flatten into a thin line as she glares at her.

[Balance Without Fault] [this comes before August -- sorry, but BWF would immediately react!]

Balance Without Fault snaps his fingers for the eightball. He confers briefly with Kora, gets a name, speaks.

"Stick to protocol, Nash. You too, Amunet. Next time you two step out of line, you're out.

"In case you missed it the first time around: don't speak without the eightball. Rank and renown takes precedence. In the event that rank is equal, the Auspice Council takes precedence over Tribal Alphas, who take precedence over the Garou, who take precedence over the kin.

"And I'm sorry, Carter, but there is no equality in the Nation. We are not a democracy."

It passes on to August.

[August Grant] {Damn, my bad - my screen didn't refresh. Augusts posts AFTER BWFs}

[Gina McClaren] *Gina makes a noise in her throat thats something along the lines of a pissed off gurgle. Fingers scraping through her hair and across her temples as her head falls backwards in utter frustration. Talon hands coming away from her scalp and settling on the bar with some force. *

[Danicka Musil] [Dibs, when... okay I'm not sure what the list is for dibs, but! Put me on it!]

[Delilah Marciano] Delilah eases out of the chair she sat in, her hand drops to the phone sitting on the table, picking it up and stares down at the screen for a brief second, and then tucks it away inside the inner breast pocket of her suit jacket. She is tall, only because of the advantage point her heels provide her, she stands with shoulders squared back and chin tilted up.

The woman doesn't exactly command authority, but there is a coolness in her demeanor. A calm, collected disposition that expresses patience, clearly her gesture to stand, instead of sit idly and listen meant she had something to say. She is an unknown face, a stranger to the kin that have served this sept in the past and now in the present.

[Calling DIBS!]

[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.

[Simon Zahradnik] Simon arrives at the Church in his usual manner. Three heavy knocks on the large door echo through the central chamber. He was looking rather strained, though this was expected considering how close it was to his Moon. He stood outside waiting patiently for a response.

[Sorrow] The door opens some minutes later. Kora stands there, dressed in jeans, her heavy black boots, and a long, thin cotton tunic taught over her stomach. She's heavily pregnant now, approaching eight months, and the weight of it robs her of some of her native grace. Two inches wide, the creature flicks him a look, up and down.

"Simon," she says, opening the door another inch, but no more than that.

[Simon Zahradnik] "Kora... I came to check in. Since I told you I would get information out your way and all. So here I am."He says with the hint of a smile showing as he looks around. It was warm out tonight, warmish and wet. Simon was feeling relatively okay in those regards, the miserable weather of the last few weeks was finally fading away.

[Sorrow] "The last time you were in my territory, Simon, you left in a rage vowing not to return. You refused my no-moon's advice and took it as an offense, when it was fairly meant, swearing up and down that you had been so badly insulted by my packmate that you should have the right to return insult for insult in my hall."

The Fenrir says all this evenly, her dark eyes level, the door still open three inches. "Were you speaking in the heat of passion, Simon? Or am I still meant to remember the ring of your outrage when you speak?"

[Simon Zahradnik] His eyes narrow slightly when he hears this."When last we spoke a member of your pack had opted to call me a fool for the fact that I risk my life out there on a nightly basis in the name of this sept and Caern. I am sorry if this upsets you but I for one thing happen to take great pride in what I do in the name of my pack, my sept, my tribe, and my nation. I am sorry but the lives of those who have died in the name of a cause, your packmate so happily denounces as a foolish affair, mean too much to me."

"You don't look a soldier in the eye and tell him what he does is stupid Rhya. So yes I took offense to the words of your packmate... As a man who has stood, and even fallen, beside members of this pack I felt entitled to a little more respect than I was being shown. Not one member of this pack stood up in my defense so I defended myself Rhya which apparently did offend your no-moon Rhya. I am sorry if I took offense, but the fact that I must sit still and be ridiculed in your territory for behaving as is expected of a Full Moon without recourse or defense from a pack I considered to be friends does leave a bad taste in ones mouth."He says back to her.

[Sorrow] The door does not budge open. The Skald remains framed within the three inch opening, dark eyes fixed on Simon. There's a certain patience evident when he begins in again.

"You disrespected my territory, you disrespected my pack, Simon. Then you threw a tantrum and vowed to never return. Not three weeks later, here you are, and yet I am still supposed to remember and empathize with your outrage?"

[Sorrow] transcript!
to Sorrow

[Michael Carroll] He chuckles and shakes his head, turning to face Imogen across the marbled flooring. "You would think so, wouldn't you just? But the Lady Carroll must have her accolades, even if an ocean seperates her from the voices that praise. And as I am her only child, the burden o' securing said praise falls on my shoulders."

The pacing resumes, far more slowly now as he takes his hands from his pocket to clasp them behind his back. "You told me once that you don't care for familial ties. If yours are anything like mine, I can't blame you one bit. How is the business o' dead people today? Anything o' interest?"

[Imogen] He suggests a reason she might be avoiding family, and Imogen merely smirks, turning back to the glass. "I daresay," she says, which is an answer which means precisely nothing, neither confirming nor refuting his assumption.

He asks her about how her day has been - has anything of interest come up. "Interest fer you?" she asks, rhetorically, answering the question herself. "No. Medically interesting? I performed an autopsy on a child wi' situs invertus." A flick of a glance toward him.

"His organs were reversed, in other words."

[Michael Carroll] His eyes widen, and once again he stops in his tracks to face her. "Reversed? You mean they were on the wrong side of his body?"

[Imogen] She nods, slightly, her thumbs hooking into the loops of her slacks, sharing space with her thin belt. "Heart on the right, liver and gall-bladder on the left, stomach on the right et cetera, yes."

[Michael Carroll] Now he moves to stand beside her, arms crossing over his chest as he stares through the thick glass at the floating jellyfish beyond. The dim lighting within the tank illuminates his face with a greenish glow that shifts and pulses as the water moves ceaselessly. "Is that what caused him to die? It seems like other than being a medical anomaly, that sort o' condition would be relatively benign."

[Imogen] She shakes her head slightly, "There are some instances o' congenital heart defects, but primarily, the condition he had was not fatal. Complicates treatment though, if the doctors are unaware in an emergency situation. As it was in this case."

As she speaks, she watches the moon jellies as they float within their container. It is a sort of water-dance, slow and unending.

[Fiona Rogers] ooc: Sooooo where are y'all?

[Michael Carroll] "Oh."

The expression isn't dismissive, though Michael doesn't raise the subject of the unfortunate boy anymore. Instead he reaches up and places the tip of his finger on the glass, only inches from a sign specifically asking that patrons do not touch the glass. Slowly he traces invisible lines along the tank, connecting points that only he can see. "There are days I wish I had never come to this city. The...others here. They do things much differently than what I'm used to. I suppose that's what I came for, but it really shows me how far from home I am."

His eyes never leave the tank, and his voice is so quiet it could be coming from across a great distance. Maybe he's not even speaking to her.

[Michael Carroll] ((Looking at jellyfish! in a nearly empty aquarium!))

[Imogen] Her eyes close briefly - it's a blink really, but one that lasts microseconds longer than it should have, punctuated by a contraction of her brow. The contraction smooths, her eyes open.

"Welcome to America," she says, her voice flat, which goes beyond it's normal restraint.

[Fiona Rogers] It's mid-afternoon on a school day, and the educational quadrant of Grant Park is saying farewell to the yellow school buses which bring them children to educate (children who run riot [who giggle, and laugh, and bite freedom and swallow it whole]). There is one yellow bus, not in front of the aquarium, which is leaving just now, and the chaperones did not headcount very well because out of the seventy four children who went on the field trip there are only seventy two children actually squabbling and shouting and staring out the window and throwing things actually on the buses.

Imogen and Michael are looking at the moon-jellies, are where it is quiet, hallowed, lit as if by sealight. There is a hush in places like these, in the quieter corners, only broken by a distant shout, the squeak of sneakers against polished floor, noise in the gift shop. The (young [very]) girl is walking down a hall into the room Imogen and Michael fill and she is reading a timeline poster plastered on a wall, reaching out to thumb a pamphlet out of a sconce on the wall, then rolling it into a spyglass cylinder. She has no purebreed. She has not too many distinguishing features at all, really, except for an oversized hoodie, a hood pulled up over her flyaway [wistfully] waving hair. Her sneakers catch on a bump on the floor, and she jumps up and to the side like a startled cat (that sneaker squeak), and then as if nothing happened at all, just begins to wind around the cylinder-tank, looking through the glass at the distorted shape of People On The Other Side.

More than People, actually. People. Her forehead scrunches and she presses it against the glass, breath steaming, as she stares and tries to take their measure, pressing her palms against the glass. Her backpack starts to sag off of her shoulder.

[Michael Carroll] One of the luminous jellyfish floats slowly towards the Fianna as he stares into the tank. Quickly, before it can move away, Michael leans forward and fogs the glass with a hot blast of his breath. Fingers move deftly across the condensation, and in a split-second the jellyfish has a smiley face, glasses, horns and a beard. The image only lasts for a moment before the sea creature expands and then sharply contracts, propelling itself away from the indignity being forced upon it.

"Why is the child on the other side o' the glass trying to push her way through?" The question comes from nowhere, and is only explained by a simple gesture at Fiona's glass-shaped pig-face staring from the other side of the large tank.

[Roman Turner] Boots softly scuffed against the floor in a faint echo through the little oddly lighted tunnel from one larger room to the next. Fish swam up both sides of the tunnel and over the top, it was like walking in a big tube through a giant fish tank. The light here wavered, making odd designs on clothing and face as the light filtered through the water and the movement of fish momentarily altered it's direction. His upper face was cast in deep shadow created by the brim of a buff Stetson. His hands were tucked in the back pockets of jeans so dark and new, stiffly pressed they looked like they could stand on their own. A jean jacket hung open, the front pulled open with the hands in the back pockets posture, exposing a neatly pressed Western cut shirt in cream and rust.

"I'll be hanged, who would of thought."

Mused softly.

[Imogen] The moment is broken - and Imogen shakes it off metaphorically, leaning forward only slightly to narrow her eyes at the glass.

"I haven't the faintest idea," she says, straightening, almost dismissively. Unlike Michael she does nothing for the pleasure of the younger girl, merely noting her existence, evaluating her threat-level (green, so far).

"She's likely not to manage it though," she observes. "At least not like that."

[Imogen] (eating dinner!)

[Michael Carroll] ((Same actually! Gonna be slow!))

[Michael Carroll] ((Err...slower))

[Fiona Rogers] Even through the distortion of water, of drifting, boneless animals (who glow [they do]), it's hard to mistake Fiona's eyes for anything but huge. The kind of eyes she probably uses to stare at people solemnly with until they get uncomfortable or/and crack a joke or feel the need to make some comment. Michael's voice carries. So does Roman's. And Imogen's. The two Fianna (People) are looking back at Fiona, and she executes a maneuver in which she pulls back from the glass, then leans forward again, but miscalculates the distance from the glass, and bonks her head. She swallows any sound this might draw from her, ducking down a little too suddenly to just be tying her shoes. Roman's got that air of heroes in his carriage, too, muted though it is, and Fiona's heart is suddenly pounding, and her mouth is suddenly dry, and she hugs her knees there on the floor, trying to figure out what to do.

After a tense second, she rubs her nose with her sleeve, and then stands up. This is what she says to Roman, circling around the tank to get closer to Imogen and Michael: "Hi uhm. Hi. Sir. Hat sir. Sir with hat. Uhm, shit. I mean, fuck - no, I mean - ugh." Her face is pink. Very pink. "Sorry. I just meant to say hi. But without sounding so lame. But I sound lame. And I'm not. I mean, I'm very fit. Shit, I sound - I'm - I will - ack."

[Roman Turner] He paused with a mixture of expressions crossing his face with the babble that spilled out of the girl. Confusion was the biggest emotion before a huge smile spread cross his face, crinkling the corners of gray-blue eyes slightly.

"Well howdy. Do ya kiss your momma with that mouth? I ain't never heard so much spill out so fast since my cousin got caught sneaking in the winda in the middle of the night after skinny dippin in the neighbor's pond."

His accent was what many folk in the city would call a twang

[Fiona Rogers] Fiona bites the inside of her lip. Her lips are chapped, but prettily shaped, and she worries at a skintag, gnawing until -- oh, now her tongue tastes of copper, and her lip is bleeding, just enough for color. She presses her lips together, then lifts her eyes to Roman's face, all studious. He's smiling, and that draws a smile in response from Fiona, something that is utterly shy and quite unaffectedly hopeful. "Noooo," and here, she rolls her eyes, pulling on her hoodie. "My mom doesn't like me to kiss her. She says kissings bourgeoisie. And she'd like, I try uhm, I'm trying not to curse so much, because it is making serious dents in my allowance, and uhm, I can't really work, you know, 'cause. Well, and uhm. I just, I don't know, so I guess: no, I do not kiss my momma with this mouth." The smile becomes a grin, mischievous. "I try not to talk too much around her. It is safer. Way. I'm Fiona." With her name said, she darts a quick glance toward Imogen and Michael again, then back to Roman, and the smile and grin disappear (dissipate [foam on the shore]), replaced by hesitation.

[Roman Turner] "Well howdy Miss Fiona. Mighty pleased ta meet ya. I'm Roman, Roman Turner. I ain't sure what kissing bourboneese is, sounds like maybe a drinkin problem. Ya a local gal?"

He followed her look through the water of the tank and did a double take.

"Well boy howdy, I think I see a Mermaid."

[Michael Carroll] Michael watches curiously as Fiona seems to make an actual attempt at breaking through the glass, then collapses out of view. She has firmly secured his attention. With brow arched, he begins walking slowly around the edge of the exhibit. Eventually he rounds the large jellyfish habitat to spot the young girl babbling at a fellow No-Moon.

He smiles broadly, the Irish accent unmistakable as he trills and brogues his way through a simple question. "Shouldn't the two o' you truants be in school then?"

[Roman Turner] The voice got his attention instantly and the smile was returned with a bit of a wry one. "No sir, we're on a field trip. Ain't we?"

He nudged Fiona for support.

[Fiona Rogers] "I uhm, just moved here," Fiona says, very quietly. The aquarium might well swallow her voice. Drown it whole. Roman says he spies a mermaid, and Fiona looks down the glass, wide and wistful. Her voice is enthusiastic, though. "Oh! She does look like one. Or like, a Robin McKinley heroine, all fiery red hair and white skin. She's really pretty, like a Queen. I bet jellyfish would make good spies for a mermaid. Probably. Hello," she says, to a jellyfish, and she reaches out to touch the glass, her brow furrowing again. She sways, and then turns pink again (she blushes often, it seems), when Michael comes around, speaks to them with his Irish accent. The accent causes her to look absolutely delighted and she half-bounces in place. "HELLO." The delight stays -- like he is the best thing she has heard all day, and she's trying to keep the excitement down. (She is.) That was way too loud. It echoes. When Roman nudges her, she grins at him, "Yes totally. We're learning stuff. Way more awesome than algebra."

[Roman Turner] "Yeah, what she said. Way more awesome than algae bras."

He hadn't noticed anything familiar about Fiona yet, but Michael gave off all the little signs that had Roman teasing him.

"Are ya the tour guide?"

[Michael Carroll] "Learnin' how to create a public disturbance by shaking apart these fishtanks wi' your bouncin', girl." Despite the chiding in his voice, he continues to smile brightly for Fiona. His eyes lift slowly from the energetic young girl to Romans face, his expression cautious. "I'm more tourist than tour guide. I know you, from the gathering at the high school. Wasn't your school, was it? That'd be a serious lack o' school pride, fella."

[Roman Turner] "Truth be told? It weren't top on my list of brightest ideas being there like that." For a second he looked like he'd sucked a lemon and the expression came and went like a flash. "And no sir, weren't my school. Where I came from, we were raised more self contained, home schooled."

[Imogen] Imogen walks around the tank, considerably slower than Michael, taking longer to drag her interest over to the two teenagers currently standing in front of the older Garou.

The kinswoman is slight and the way she joins them speaks volumes - she does not quite join them - does not stand beside Michael, does not stand beside Roman but more adjacent to them all, able to keep them all in sight.

"Roman," she greets one, her gaze flicking briefly toward the girl, her eyes narrowing slightly. "H'lo."

[Roman Turner] "Howdy Miss Doctor Slaughter, Ma'am." The sudden smile he gave her was pure puppy love. Touching the tip of his hat as he greeted her and introduced Fiona.

"This here is Miss Fiona, like the Princess in Shrek. Only, I don't know if she turns big and green at night yet or not."

[Fiona Rogers] There is now: one boy her age with Unicorn's blood, one Fianna from Ireland she really, reallyreally, really wants to ask a question but manages to refrain with dignity and will, another Fianna who sounds like she's from across the pond and looks like a Queen, and Fiona. That's three people she doesn't know, and she's not quite sure what to do. For a confounded second she studies her toes again, listening to Michael and Roman, trying to parse this businesss about schools and highschools and, "You teach at a high school? My daddy's a principal." Even she seems to find this question inadequate, though, and she doesn't quite pull her eyes from her feet to ask it. The queen woman talked to you! The queen woman talked to you! Her heart is beating fast, again. "Whoa. Slaughter? That's your real name? Or did it earn it for something?" The wide eyes go right to Imogen's, and her shoulders are a little hunched -- self-protective. "Uh erm, not that that would mean it wasn't real, just uhm. Like is it your real DOCTOR name?"

Roman makes her smile again, bouncing a little in place, and she gives him a sidelong look, which she couples with a baring of her teeth [frisson (this is for play, but it COULD be for a real)] and a, "RAR. I am a name riddle and the name is something cool. And howly. Awoo." She makes claw fingers at him, and then ducks her head again. She is still smiling at being likened to a cartoon princess.

[Kora] God knows there are enough Garou in the aquarium today. Add one more: turning the corner from another display room. Tall, long-limbed, with pale blond hair, attractive, perhaps, but not pretty. A function of even features, sharp, well-defined bones beneath her face; strong cheeks and a strong jaw softened by the width of a curving mouth. Dressed in jeans tucked into black Doc Marten's, pale-blue cotton tunic underneath a gray University of Chicago hoodie, unzipped. Pregnant. Very pregnant, and alone today.

Strangers do not approach her, though. They don't crowd her, reminisce about their own children and grandchildren, offer the usual unsolicited advice. They most certainly do not ask if she's chosen a name, or try to touch her stomach. Instead: most step aside, especially parents with children, driving by an instinct they cannot name. At least it leaves her direct path free. Hands in the front pockets of her jeans, forearms framing her pregnant stomach, she ambles toward the small group, giving Roman a familiar bump as she joins them, bathed in the dappled blue light from the water. "Doc. Roman." Greetings, offered quietly. She arrives soon enough to hear Fiona's name too, and gives the girl a brief, sure once-over, then cuts a glance toward Michael. "Michael, yeah?" Confirming, though she needed. They were introduced one night change he challenged her packmate to a drinking contest. She doesn't forget names.

A glance back to Roman, then. "Making friends, are you?" Then, a lifting look back to Fiona, frank and appraising, all in one.

[Imogen] Imogen regards Fiona with something resembling resignation.

"It's my real name, yes. Cousins don't earn names."

Clearly the kinswoman has worked out Fiona's blood, if only partway. Kora approaches, heavily pregnant, slightly slow moving, a little heavier in her weight, in the way she moves.

No one would dare say she waddles.

"Kora," the kinswoman greets her.

[Michael Carroll] He nods at the Fenrirs approach, offering a distracted. "Yeah. Well to see ya again, Kora." The standard honorific is carefully left off in consideration of the possibly mixed company. Much like Kora, Michaels attention is drawn entirely now to Fiona. The one piece here that hadn't quite fit in place. Every word from her causes his expression to switch from amusement to confusion and back again, but it's Imogens reference to "cousins" that turns the Irishman serious. He glances to the doctor curiously. "Is she?"

[Roman Turner] He was a good deal more demonstrative than many. Kora bumped him and he full turned to grasp her in a quick brotherly hug including a swift brush of his lips across her cheek. His smile was big when he released Kora. To him there was nothing prettier in the world than a woman carrying the future of their kind and this particular woman was as close as relationships could get between Garou other than blood shared, they were Pack.

"This here is Princess Fiona."

He introduced Fiona to Kora, nudging the girl closer.

"She's a bouncy as a kid what ate his entire Easter Basket's contents in one sitting."

[Imogen] "She is," answer the pure bred Fianna, evenly, without hesitation or misunderstanding.

[Fiona Rogers] "Slaughter. Wow." Fiona seems impressed. "That's cool. Like a name for an ax queen." Kora - Kora, with her status, clear as anything; at least as clear as the lineage of the two Fianna and Roman - Kora, pregnant and appraising, draws Fiona's eyes for only a second. Then, rather firmly, as if remembering her lost (heh?) dignity, Fiona refuses to look at Kora's face. Instead, she focuses on Kora's collarbones, and Fiona is Princess of Blushes, because the Blush is here to stay, it is shining through her eyebrows, it is even turning her neck pink. Roman calls her Princess Fiona again, and her smile widens a hair, and then snaps off like a light while her eyebrows draw together in sudden worry. "ButI'mnotreally. Cadbury eggs would be nice. Uhm, I didn't. Cousins earn," a pause. She swallows, and then says, "YesIdothinkwearerelatedbutyouguysaremoreinterestinglyrelatedtothefamilytreethanIam. Like, way. Uhmshould. I. Do you want more?" This question is asked more of Kora than the rest, and her voice has dropped to a Discreet Whisper. She sounds utterly miserable.

[Fiona Rogers] ooc: sorry all! I'ma be a little slow for a while. Making food! You can always assume Fiona's way too tonguetied to reply to questions if necessary (grin)

[Kora] Roman is a good deal more demonstrative than Kora. She gives him a familiar bump - heavier, rather more graceless for it - as she insinuates herself into the loose knot. He turns and hugs her and she is too gravid to step away from it, but she's stiff, awkward looking - every five feet and eleven inches of her Fenrir in that moment - her generous ease withdrawn behind that awkward sense of tolerance. Of things to be endured, like great aunts at Christmas time, their papery skin and talcum powder scent.

Then Roman releases her; she acknowledges Michael's nicety with a quiet "Cheers," lifting her chin in his direction, then glancing back at Fiona, taking in the overwhelming avalanche of words with a certain clear bemusement. "It's pretty public here, Fiona. I'll let you off the hook tonight, yeah? We'll do the official thing when we leave, or save it for some other night."

Then, a glance back at Imogen, a flare of her nostrils. The expression is subtle, a bit distant. "Some do, Doc." Watchful, maybe, though she goes no further with the thought. Instead, a more general question, wry - "Tell me where wasn't a murder at the aquarium."

[Kora] (Add - )

"Because this is an insane coincidence."

[Imogen] Imogen's gaze is brief and blue when Kora mentions that some do, her expression controlled and even. Unrevealing. She does not answer, but answers the next, a question, wry.

"If it were a murder, I'd not be standin' here chatting wi' you lot, would I?" she asks, casting a glance to her watch.

"Insane coincidence it is, then. I'd best be off though."

[Roman Turner] "I don't know, ya might be casually talkin while watching for bits of flesh to float by in the tanks. I seen ya do some strange things."

Imogen mentioned leaving and Roman immediately gave Kora a look as he said.

"I'll walk her to her car. Wouldn't want one of them fish men to come take our Mermaid."

[Fiona Rogers] "Okay," she says, whispering. Fiona's sleeves are long. The hoodie is oversized, remember? Fiona pulls them, tugs them, awkward, until they're trailing over her fists, and then shoves them up her skinny wrists and touches the back of her hands to her cheeks, as though to cool them. Her lips part, and she half-closes her eyes, just -- content to listen. Just -- listening, although through those half-closed eyes, she's watching Imogen and Michael, half-anxious, half-testing, daydreaming, away with the fairies. And then, "UhmbyeDoctor - " a pause, and a half-giggle, dredging itself up " - Slaughter." She then says to Kora, "Anduhm. Hey. Is it - soon? That, I mean. You look f- uhm, you look soon."

[Kora] "Maybe you just finished covering it up," still wry, though Kora matches steadiness for steadiness. There's a different quality to her own stillness. She's not unrevealing, just reserved. The surface breaks for the edge of an easy smile near the end, though it goes a bit still as she flicks a glance at Roman. "Night doc. Roman."

Then Fiona, stretching out the already too-long sleeves of her hoodie, turns and asks her is it soon; Kora gives her a look, pale brows drawing close over her dark eyes, her confusion too clear. The lights from the tank swim across the surface of her gaze but do not illuminate the depths. "Is what - ?" It's Fiona's line of sight, though. The faint, suggestive way the younger creature drops her eyes to Kora's not-to-be-ignored (everyone ignore it) stomach, and her own eyes follow the look.

Dear world, she cannot see her toes.

Kora breathes out, a huff of breath. "Oh," like revelation. Her narrow shoulders twist in a fatalistic shrug. The waxing moon makes everything harder. Being in her skin; being in one place; stuck here between worlds, unable to access both. The restlessness mirrors the restlessness from before she knew what she was. Then she was free; now she's anchored.

" - yeah. It better be fucking soon," she goes on. She does not, it seems, have a swear jar, no matter how much Roman wanted to start one. I don't know when, though."

[Imogen] Imogen turns to talk, Roman walking beside her. As they walk toward the domed aquarium hallway, one imagines, they can hear Roman's voice as he says something - anything. And Imogen's more sedate reply. Within seconds, they are distorted by water, then a passing shark obscures them from view. Then, they are gone from sight, a corner turned.

(Thanks for the RP!)

[Fiona Rogers] ooc:No, thank YOU for letting me play with y'all!

[Roman Turner] ((Thank you guys! Bed time! ))

[Fiona Rogers] Then there were three. Michael, Kora, Fiona. Fiona begins knotting the ends of her sleeves, pulling them around each other into fanciful, dragonesque shapes, an expression of her nervous energy, and she directs her gaze up toward the ceiling of the aquarium. The room is so hushed; there isn't anyone yelling in the rest of the aquarium right now. There isn't a cluster of people around the sharks: staring in awe at an alien which scents by blood -- and never, ever stops. "Should we, uhm. Leave too?" A beat. And then, "This guy back home. He was older, uhm, and I. Er, he told me that, uhm, you - that because you can't STRETCH out like," here, a meaningful look, "like you wanna, when you're, like. Uhm, you know. The way you are. That girls never got pregnant and it was okay." She smiles, "But I knew he was being stupid. I still have never actually met someone who was pregnant." A pause, a frown. "Well, not someone with flesh that wasn't for eating."

[Kora] "Yeah," Kora affirms, quiet too. Not the way Fiona is quiet, swallowing her sleeves into strange new shapes, coming up with big expressions and big eyes and big - words - all allusive, the meaning perfectly clear. "Let's go." Another glance back at the fish tank, then. Gods only know why she's here today, prowling the blue-bathed audience chambers, past the captive sea animals, flowering in their narrowly defined tanks, perfectly authentic reproductions of their ocean homes, except for the bounding glass.

She walks, a look of invitation for Michael if he wishes to join them, but just that. "Of course girls get pregnant. How else do you think we have another generation?" Voice low, like she's sharing a confidence then, "It's not easy, though. If you come from the country, most probably retreated from community life for a while. It's not the same in a place like this."

[Fiona Rogers] When Michael takes his leave, rather than staying, Fiona waves to him, and says to Kora -- her delight still clear: "He's Irish. I wish," envy, thy name is Fiona, thy shape is a teenage girl's, "I wish I had that kind of voice. I mean then. I could just. It's so cool." And: she and Kora are walking, and Fiona is very careful of the space she gives the pregnant Fenrir, is very careful of her body language, none of which is threatening, much of which is awkward. She stops before they've quite left the jellyfish tank room and gazes at the jellyfish, thoughtful, and then waves to them. And then, then then, back to Kora, "Do you. Know who. When your time comes. Who's going to? I could try, I mean. I should know."

[Kora] "If you meet Patrick," Kora cautions while they walk, pausing to glance back at the jellyfish tank, dropping her gaze back to Fiona as the Fiann waves to the invertebrates. "Don't call him Irish, alright? He's Welsh. Big on Welsh pride. Refuses to use any words with vowels other than Y," the last is solemn, as if she were just imparting the truth. She doesn't wait long for Fiona to finish her wave, though, continuing with a chin lifted back at the tank full as they start walking again. Kora, long-legged, paces as if she had someplace to be. As if she had not wandered into the aquarium today because of her enforced idleness. Because she literally has nothing else to do.

"You think they can see you?" she queries, then swallows nearly a full laugh, draws the whole breath of it in as if she were choking on it. Expels a breath, all at once. "Oh, - no, I don't know. And I think - I think - I'd like someone who's done it before. Since it'll be my first time, too. Maybe if you find an even more pregnant woman, though, and convince her - "

[Fiona Rogers] "I'm offering them respect, uhm, though it isn't in their custom and they may not care, I, I guess I PROBABLY won't like, make friends with their others," Fiona says, unwontedly serious, a keen glance at the end, sidelong, edging into something touched by anxiety. But then -- Fiona is a whimsical creature. That much is obvious to anybody who's spent any time with her at all. Given to fancy, something of a geek, and even humans often just put her into the box labelled Weird. "But uhm. I try to be respectful. When it is not bellyshowing. And when it is. And stuff, like. Argh," misery, again. "I just can't. Blah."

Pause. And she heaves a biiiiiiiig sigh, and then giggles, giggles helplessly. Fiona's giggles are breathy, not very high-pitched, but lilting and infectious and quiet, like she's trying to get water into a water balloon and it's not WORKING, so it's splashing everywhere. "PATRICK," she says, loudly, loudly. "He's AWESOME. And I - oh man, I - I did not - I could have been way - but it's okay. I reallyreallyreallyreallyreallyreallyreallyreallyreallyreallyreallyreallyreally like Patrick. I will only call him Irish if. If I .. if I am ... if there is a reason," she beams at Kora. "He said I should find his - uhm. His," and her voice drops low, to an almost whisper, "pack. 'Cause. He likes me. I think. And I was like that's cool oh man how nice and he was like I'm not saying anything for real but you should meet them and I was like I totallyget it I mean, I really do, but you are being the best head guy ever, and I really like him."

She giggles, again. "If I find another pregnant woman before you give birth I will let you know. Can I maybe be there in case I don't? With someone more experienced? Just so I can - can know? I have, uhm. I mean, I have helped - there - I'm not very good at - there was a time. Which I can tell you about, but it was totally different," a pause. The word appears: "Biology!"

[Kora] "I'm his leader, yeah?" Kora offers, allusive, her curving mouth opening wider, the bemusement lifting some of the restlessness from her, some of the solemnity. It shines in her eyes, sheens across the surface, and even though that quicksilver smile on her mobile mouth disappears as quickly as jellyfish change directions, surging through the water, it lingers underneath in the finer planes of her face - a certain smiling tension about her eyes, a certain awareness, a certain twist to her mouth. "I'll show you our clubhouse, so you'll know where to come. How's that?"

Then, a supple flare of her nostrils - her eyes closed - and amusement is still predominant. Cuts the giggling girl a dark-eyed look, bemusement lingering in her eyes. "I'll think about it, okay? Though I'm not sure I want to be a training project. It's serious to me, personal? I don't think I've talked about it this much. Ever." Then she turns around, a last glimpse of the jelly tank, the girl raising her hand, respectful. " - but I'll consider it. Cool?"

[Fiona Rogers] Fiona gives Kora an aghast look. Here's the packleader Patrick told her about, and clearly, she, Fiona, has been a total dumbass this entire time, even compared to the unfortunate introduction at the caern which was how she and Patrick met. There's much of horror in that look. Much, much of horror. How's she going to impress Kora if she's not talking properly and probably sounding like a stupid little girl? Fiona closes her eyes, and her shoulders slump, absolutely crushed.

Still. She says, mustering some dignity, in a veryvery quiet voice, "I would like that. And please, ma'am, I uhm. I'm not silly." A pause. And then, flinging herself onto the other topic, words hasty, tripping over themselves in the eagerness to begin, "Cool. I mean, uhm. Okay, and fair and stuff. Just, I get that it's serious - okay? And, hm. I mean, I'm connected, so I could ask some of my friends if they know how, and have them step up. If there's an emergency, or something. But if cats can do it on their own - I don't - you probably - well, of course you'll be fine."

Miesry, again. "Do you want to talk about something else now? I don't want to overstep - uhm. To like, if it's not okay."

[Kora] Fiona assures Kora that she's not silly. It's solemn, and quiet. They're still in the aquarium, though it is hushed here, some interval place, some corridor underneath the shark tank - bluelit and brilliant. And Kora ignores the misery and horror, the slumping shoulders, the deepening blush. She keeps walking. Waddling.

"I know you're not." Kora says; it's bracing rather than reassuring. Silly, she means. "I'll think more on it when it's closer to the time, yeah? And why don't you tell me where you came from before you came here? When we get outta here, I'll tell you a story about Chicago in exchange."