Joss – Meeting the Unbroken Circle [many]

The pink and the purple in Gabbie’s scarf disappear into the shadows as she leaves the bright-lit, high-ceilinged main hall to enter the Wild Reef wing. The aqua, though, positively glows in this artificial twilight — as though a piece of the jewel-bright aquaria curving from the walls has detached itself and deigned to linger on the kingirl’s person.

It’s dark here, with muted path lights guiding visitors past vast oceanic displays. The crowds are considerable today: it’s muggy, it’s warm, it’s Memorial Day weekend. Most people come here for the sharks, though, and they pass the schooling fish display right by. Even if they didn’t, the man on the padded bench would drive them away before long. There’s an emptiness around him, a space that humans consciously or unconsciously avoid. That’s fine with him: it affords him a better view of the silent whirlwind of silvery fish behind the glass.

Gabriella, though, grew up with Garou siblings. Edward was laid back, but Katherine was as angry as an Ahroun. Perhaps she doesn’t notice the Rage. Perhaps she’s strong enough to weather it. Perhaps she’s on the verge of walking right by him, her attention on the fish, when Lukas speaks up.

“Hey. Gabbie.”

The Ahroun is relaxed on the bench, his back to the cushions, one ankle crossed over the other knee. He’s in a linen shirt, short-sleeved, button-up, that might be white or light grey, though this light makes it a pale, bluish blur. His pants are light too, some sandy color, very summery. He looks relaxed, quiet, contemplative; the corner of his mouth turns up a little when she sees him.

“What are you doing here?”

She’d walked into a more vaccant part of the building, but didn’t seem to notice. The world was tinged aquamarine and she was enjoying it, she had eyes only for the fish and the reefs and the sea mammals today. So accustomed to Rage was she that while so absorbed in this underwater world she’d barely noticed that she’d walked directly into a cloud of it. When she heard her name, it surprised her, but certainly didn’t startle her. She didn’t jump, but her eyebrows flew up high on her forehead and she turned about to hunt for the person calling out to her.

Lukas.

She blinked at him, surprised to find him out here, she’d always thought he was more a night person than anything else, when she passed by his room most of the time during the day she would hear the rhythmic sounds of his heavy sleep breathing and be assured of his presence. They might not have met on the most pleasant terms last time, but she had forgiven him. He was in some sort of a fit of depression or Rage or something, and she needed friends too badly these days to let something like that tear apart relationships.

So she smiled at him, the expression not quite so bright and sparkling as it usually was, but bounds more authentic because of how loose and relaxed it was. Turning away from the display, she walked over to stand before the bench that he lounged on. “Taking in the beauty. What about you?”

A large wooden handle juts from the hip of the Fenrir, its terminus lost in the black cotton of his shirt. Denim jeans, dark and devoid of device or brand name design, flow to the tops of brown leather boots…

In short, Matthias is the very image he always has been… Stern and dangerous… Rage gathering around him, leaving a distinct level of discomfort as he makes his way through the other people in the area, gathering with his every stop in lieu of even the merest breath of wind.

His eyes return to the display as though drawn. The schooling fish form a glittering cyclone in the luminous blue aquarium. The glass stretches from wall to wall, floor to ceiling; most of the light in its vicinity comes from within, refracts and scatters through the glass, paints the Ahroun’s face shades of blue. It makes the color of his eyes a little more vivid; a little less cold.

“Caleb’s concerned about you,” he adds. It seems like there might be more, but if there is, Lukas doesn’t voice it.

An approaching whirlwind of rage: the Ahroun’s eyes shift from the aquarium, flicker to Matthias. It’s a moment before he recalls. Milo’s packmate, that’s right. The Ahroun lowers his foot to the floor, sitting up a little.

“Matthias, I haven’t seen your elder brother in some time. I thought you guys might’ve left town.”

“Caleb and I have had our discussions, and he knows precisely how little I care about or for his concern.”

Then Lukas’s eyes flicker to something over her shoulder and the Rage that she was accustomed to but still very well aware of thickened immensely. She blinked when Lukas addressed this person, and turned to glance over her shoulder at him. Holy Hell, Thor Incarnate. She said nothing, but left a polite ghost of a smile on her face and glanced neutrally between the men as they exchanged greetings.

The Fenrir’s steel gray eyes move to Lukas as he approaches, then to the woman with whom Lukas had been conversing. As he answers, the deep bass rumble seems to express some measure of trepidation… And resolve.

“He lives yet… Though I too have seen him little.”

The eyes move back to the woman, a curious expression on his face, before returning to Lukas.

“One of yours?”

“We should talk a little more later,” he says. Then Matthias is joining them; the Full-Moons exchange greetings.

“Well,” Lukas replies, “maybe the heads of the family have him going undercover again. And no,” a glance at Gabriella, “a little sister of my brother Caleb. This is Gabriella. Gabriella, Matthias. He’s related to Sam.”

If humans were eavesdropping — and none are — their heads would be spinning at the family connections by now.

She considered their relationship distant and profesional, at best.

So Matthias approached, introductions were exchanged, and she smiled that bright, cheerful, sparkling smile of hers that she had practiced, refined, and perfected to look authentic even if it wasn’t. One small, nimble-fingered hand was offered for a greeting shake to the large Thor-impersonator. “Hello, Matthias. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well.”

A meaty hand engulfs the smaller hand gently, but with enough firmness to qualify as a handshake. Then, releasing Gabriella’s hand,

Then Matthias nods, turning back to Lukas. He stands quietly, his arms folded across his chest, seemingly unbothered by the act of standing and making no move to sit. It was as if he seemed perfectly at ease this way, uncaring or oblivious to the motions of anyone who had to move out of their straight line path to avoid running into the large figure.

“It is possible. My… elder brother has talent at such things.”

The merest of pauses as he speaks of Milo, the viking expression turning dubious.

Danicka stands in front of the tank holding a leopard shark, as she has been standing for the past…ten minutes or so. There’s a tall styrofoam cup in her hands with a bulbous plastic lid and a long straw; luckily it isn’t from Juiced!. That chain of smoothie shops had one representation in Chicago, and it burned to the ground recently. No, Danicka’s smoothie is from a plain old Jamba Juice.

Her outfit is reminiscent of another visit to this aquarium, months ago. She’s wearing a pair of brown leather boots that almost reach her knees and have a slouched look to them. Her A-line skirt ends a few inches above her knees, linen in a light tan. It’s cloudy enough outside and cool enough inside that she’s wearing a light green sweater, but it’s a loosely-knit, thin one that drapes slightly off of one shoulder. Underneath it can be seen the barest outline of a white, laceless camisole. She has a purse over one shoulder, middling in size and casual. Her hair was allowed its loose waves today.

She gets tired of the leopard and walks over to the entrance down to the Wild Reef area. There’s a sandbar shark there. And the reef sharks. Her heels tap softly on the stairs.

Manipulation + Subterfuge, diff = 6))

They make an unusual tableau, the three in front of the schooling fish. There’s a blond giant standing stoic, a straight throwback to the viking age in modern clothes; there’s a slim blond girl, standing, delicate, something of the lilies of france in her face; there’s a youngish man comfortably slouch-seated on the cushioned bench, and though his clothes are light and summery, his coloration is darker than either of his…

…friends? companions? He calls them cousins and siblings, but surely they’re not that. Surely none of them are related.

Lukas studies the dubious expression for a moment. His eyes are sharp and pale. Whatever he sees, he says little of. Instead: “Well, if you’re still in contact with him, tell him that family business in the city can’t wait too long. If he can’t be around to take care of it, I’ll have to start handling them myself.”

So she stayed standing, closer to where Lukas was seated than where Matthias was looming, but not close enough to look like she was about to sit beside him. Instead she loitered beside the bench, one hand remaining rested at her hip while the other lifted to arrange her scarf and then straighten and smooth and fiddle with the fringes that dangled from it in the same rainbow pattern of colors that the rest of the scarf was woven with. Clear, but not necessarily pale blue eyes surveyed the tanks for a moment longer, but then caught onto a familiar face coming about the corner.

Danicka had arrived. She hadn’t seen the woman in a while, was well aware of the relationship between her and the Shadow Lord seated beside her, and had the vague tickling feeling that it wasn’t a relationship that was all daisies and perfumed romance. So she was uncertain of whether to call her over or not. Instead she watched her, opting not to approach or call over, but not to ignore her entirely either. Quiet and content in the background, she observed the woman and listened to the men.

You speak of her so little.

Her stacked heels are remarkably quiet on the tiled floor; Danicka seems so accustomed to shoes that elevate her height this much that she all but floats on them. But she’s not as dark or as intense as the sharks, or the two Full Moons lying in wait. She feels a ripple of tension go up the back of her entire body, chilling her spine and raising hairs on the back of her neck, but that tension isn’t what anyone can see on her face when she walks within sight of, at very least, Gabriella Bellamonte.

When she sees her, she lifts her free hand — the one not holding the smoothie — and her fingers collapse like dominoes in the slightest of waves. There’s a faint smile on her face, hinted at in the corners of her mouth. As her hand lowers, her eyes slide to Lukas, briefly, but then back to Gabbie as she heads in the girl’s direction.

Every word carefully chewed and digested before its utterance, as the viking head nods. Then, hearing the approach of footsteps, steel gray eyes shift to the approaching blond.

The blond man then stands silent, as though silence bothered him not at all, and watches.

Graceful behemoth 747’s of the ocean, these creatures were beautiful to behold. It was amazing that such gorgeous fauna and other life could exist beneath the waves – sometimes he could almost envy the whispered-of Rokea. Then again, from what little he has heard those creatures were best to be avoided at all costs.

Standing with his arms folded, Caleb wore a loose-fitting button-down shirt that was so light a gray that it was almost white, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The shirt was tucked into a pair of light-colored jeans, which in turn were tucked into his boots that laced to his knee. Safari-chic, Gabriella had once called it. Caleb called it wisdom – leather was much more prone to stop a blade than mere cloth.

It did not answer the question Lukas intended, but it addressed the question Lukas posed. Still, there was consideration as to Lukas’ words inherent in the Fenrir’s tone as he speaks.

“He still lives. Our territory remains claimed.”

She didn’t verbalize a greeting, not yet. There seemed to be some amount of tension in the conversation between the pair of Rage-saturated Garou to her right, so she remained quiet, and simply watched Danicka’s approach while trying to convey ‘Hello, how have you been?’ in her eyes instead of off her tongue.

And another figure, meanwhile, had strayed in closer than what the humans would be willing to with the thick cloud of Rage in this section of hallway. Her eyes strayed in that direction, curious. Upon finding the side of Caleb’s head and recognizing that safari-tastic attire of his, she sighed very, very quietly and leaned back against the wall behind her.

Oh goodie.

(sorry bout delays guys, nomming)

“It,” she intones, “has been ages,” and leans in to wrap one arm around the girl. “How are you?” she asks, when she moves away again.

…then she got distracted.
(Look! something shiney!)

Thus – she’s in the Aquarium, wandering about looking at the various displays, while munching idly on some popcorn.

Pretty fishes.

A flickered glance their way and no more, and he returned his eyes to the tank before him watching the manta-ray. Idly he began wondering what one tasted like.

“Nor will it.”

The modi simply stands, his gaze drawn to the fish for a time. Then he grins, before speaking once more.

“Nature abhors a vacuum.”

“Yeah.” A pause. Needless to say, his tone is low and discreet, “I look forward to seeing who stands at the head of your pack at the next gathering.”

Then, raising his tone back to normal conversational levels, he nods over Matthias’s shoulder. “This is my brother Caleb.” And back toward Danicka, “And that’s Dani&+269;ka.”

He doesn’t indicate what Danicka is: ‘little sister’, ‘cousin’, anything of the sort. Then again, he doesn’t need to. The woman has no rage, none whatsoever; the woman, besides, has the sort of inner flame that makes no secret of which tribe she belongs to.

With Danicka she has always been utterly honest. No need to change that now, even if she did smooth over wrinkles and blemishes a little due to the fact that other ears were able to listen. So she responded in a pleasant tone of voice, as usual, and leaned back against the wall behind her while doing so, crossing her feet at the ankles and allowing herself to be more comfortable. She had the distinct feeling that she would be standing there for a while.

“I certainly has.” Been ages, that is. “I’ve been better, yet I’ve been worse as well.” Her slim shoulders rise and fall in a dismissive shrug. “In good health, at least. How about you?”

Then, suddenly, she turns her head to eye each of those in the little gathering. Caleb, Lukas, Matthias… and the pretty kinfolk as well. She marks their place, than returns the majority of her attention to the exhibit again.

From the way she turns when Lukas says her name, looking first to him and then to the one he is ‘introducing’ her to, it is clear not only what Tribe she belongs to, but which wolf. There’s simply an inherent awareness to her body language, even as she’s hugging Gabriella, that ties her by an invisible thread to the Shadow Lord across the way.

But her attention goes back to the Silver Fang, the other Kinfolk. Her smile remains in place. Polite. Demure. Soft. “That was an excellent non-answer, darling,” she purrs, and takes a sip of her smoothie. “I need a new car and a major.”

Danicka was given a polite nod and smile. He didn’t know the woman very well, or at all really, but it never hurt to be civil. Speaking civil, an eye was cast to the youngest Bellamonte and a nod given. A short, brief nod. Acknowledgement and nothing more – she wanted to be left alone, and left alone she would be. For those that acted as she has, they were written off as inconsequential. For the moment, at least. It was almost as if he knew Gabriella about as well as he did Danicka – that is to say, not at all.

Next his eyes landed on Joss, and with the apparent ease at which she stood around them without shying away Caleb nodded to the woman as well. Nostrals flaring briefly – that was all he needed to know about her.

Matthias’ gaze follows Lukas’ to Caleb and to Danicka. The hulking Fenrir form turns slightly, allowing him to keep them within his field of view. A nod is made to Danicka, before the steel gray eyes move to the woman eating popcorn who stared at them (Joss). The viking’s expression turns curious as the woman stares at them, his head tilting in an all too wolfen manner…

Then, as the woman returns to watching the fish, Matthias turns to Caleb. He nods while speaking in that same carefully measured rumble.

“We have met. Milo is my… elder brother.”

Again, as his relation to Milo was mentioned, there was that momentary pause… That same dubious expression.

Instead, she focused on Danicka, and grinned a touch when she pointed out how vague Gabbie’s response had been.

“Fine then. My days are unhappy.” As for the car and the major, Gabriella looked a little confused. “Major? You’re attending school?” Such is the way that college students think.

She seems amused.
And very comfortable in her own skin.

Despite the fact that her gaze seems to be on the fishes – one could surmise that she’s actually watching them in the reflection of the glass – or at least keeping track of where everyone is.

Digression aside, on to more pleasant things. When Joss smiles Caleb’s way, his own lips curved. “Good evening,” the cajun drawlled to her.

Turning his attention back to Matthias for the moment, he nodded. “Oui,” he said. “That was some time ago though. How fare you and yours?”

“What are you going back to study? And what career are you intending to persue?”

Of the group, Matthias has noticed her in turn. Lukas too, a moment later. He nods in her direction, politely, without commanding her to approach. Not his place, that. He does say to Matthias, though, “Looks like one of yours.” He lifts his chin in Joss’ direction.

And stands, a moment later. He’s been sitting for some time, and his shirt has ridden up a little at the back, wrinkled. He tugs it straight casually, arches his back in a subtle stretch, and then follows Gabriella over to Danicka.

“Hey.” It’s a quiet sort of greeting. They don’t even hug the way she and Gabriella had, but one would have to be blind to miss the way Lukas looks at her. A beat. Then he reaches into his pocket. “Didn’t expect to see you here, but it’s just as well. I was going to call you later and return these.”

Whatever he hands her, he passes directly into her hand. If she looks, it’s a small ziplock bag: her earrings. He’s smiling at her when she looks back at him. “There was something else too, but.”

He leaves it there, unfinished. Turns to Gabriella. “Listen, do you want to have a chat now? I don’t mind doing it in front of Dani&+269;ka, but it’s up to you.”

She’s anything but average.

The groupings change, and she watches their reflections again – until she is distracted once more by a Dori Fish.

No. I don’t know. I don’t know.

Danicka is sipping her smoothie at Gabriella’s first question, or assumption, her eyes bland and her expression unreadable but thoughtful, and as her lips part around the straw, her erstwhile ‘boyfriend’ whose relationship with her does not involve daisies nor rainbows strolls over. The way she looks at him is almost appraising, glancing at his light-colored outfit and then the bag he takes out of his pocket.

Her eyes flick up to him as she takes it with her free hand, moving it to her purse. There are only so many situations where a woman might take off her earrings when she’s with a man, only so many reasons Lukas would have them. She doesn’t say a word about his there was something else, too, and simply responds to the last thing said..like most people are wont to do.

“It’s quite all right,” she says, more to Gabriella than to Lukas. “I can just stroll around.”

Matthias nods, rather pointedly avoiding the question as to himself. Then, as Lukas speaks, the hulking form nods again.

“We shall see.”

The modi waits to hear Caleb’s answer, as is only polite. However, his eyes periodically move to the woman with the popcorn, as if keeping track of her location.

Whatever.

Next the Ahroun was suggesting they ‘chat’ now, saying that he was fine talking around Danicka if she was. Gabbie had shifted her gaze from the tall dark-haired Monster/Man to the blonde in the slouched brown boots, weighing the options. She liked Danicka, no doubt about that. She would likely tell Danicka precisely what Lukas and she were about to go talk about at a later point. However, she didn’t necessarily want the Shadow Lord Kinfolk/friend to see her in the odd chance that she lost her composure, if it may come around to that. She didn’t like people seeing her that way.

God Bless Danicka for suggesting that she could stroll around before Gabbie had to ask her to excuse herself. She smiled, the expression genuine as ever and quite thankful, and lifted a hand to pat it lightly to the soft green fabric that covered Danicka’s arm. “Thank you. I don’t imagine we’ll be long.”

Then a nod to Lukas, the single gesture saying ‘Wherever you like, go ahead.’

Attention back to the Modi, he nodded. “Good to hear. Everything is going smoothly with me and mine,” he said. Most everything, he thought with a slight furrow of eyes that was gone in an instant as Lukas lead Gabriella away.

Looking back to Danicka first and then to Joss’s popcorn, his stomach rumbled softly. He hadn’t thought of getting a drink when he came here. With so much water around, who would need such? Even so.

Average.

The piercings aren’t average – a small stud on each side of her nose, two in her bottom lip, one in each ear. Makes one wonder what else she has pierced… That’s neither here nor there, though as she’s joined them, and she smiles at them both. Her blood defines her as Fenrir? The warmth of the smile is rather odd, isn’t it….

In a few moments, though, her eyes slide over towards Joss, and then Caleb. Her look is lightly, appreciatively appraising in each case, the way one would consider a piece of modern art, but she doesn’t approach them. She vaguely knows who Caleb is, though she’s never interacted with him. She knows that he’s Garou. That is enough reason for her to stay put, to watch the pretty fishies and the dangerous beasts, and play her part.

She’s lovely. She’s well-bred. And she’s obedient. So she waits for the one who claimed her to come back and collect her. She could stroll around…but she doesn’t.

He looks at her for a moment. Whatever he sees in her eyes kills the smile before it’s begun to form. He doesn’t say anything else after all. Their hands part, she slips the item directly into her purse, and he turns to Gabriella.

It doesn’t take them long to decide Lukas and Gabbie will speak alone, and Danicka will wander. The trio becomes two and one again, but a different assortment. They don’t go far, the Shadow Lord and the Fang kin; only so far as the manta rays, where Lukas pauses and turns to Gabriella.

His linen shirt catches the light from the water and soaks it up. His eyes are luminous in it. He’s foregone the undershirt in deference to the weather; when he folds his arms across his chest his musculature strains at the fabric. Seen from a ways away, silhouetted against the blue and the silent, graceful rays, the Shadow Lord seems very dark, very large compared to the slender girl.

He gets right into it. “Do you suppose, Gabriella,” Lukas says quietly, “declaring how little you care for the opinions and feelings of your blood-kin makes you brave, worthy and adult?”

Matthias nods to Joss as he speaks, his stern expression giving way to a simple grin. The Rage suffusing the hulking form gives the look a sinister air, but it seems far more pleasant than was typical for him. He moves little, save perhaps to turn so that he faced both Caleb and Joss at the same time… as is only natural when conversing with two people at once.

“I am Caleb Delacourt-Alden,” he said to Joss. Then, to Danicka. “Good evening, Madamoiselle Musil.”

She wipes her hand on her skirt, ridding it of the butter from her popcorn, before offering her hand to Mattias first, than Caleb. “Joss Lehrer.”

They get without easy eyeshot, in front of the large, broad bodied but terribly short (or long and terribly thin, depending on your point of perception [glass half full/glass half empty]) manta rays. Gabbie cast her eyes to the sea creatures, observing how their ‘wings’ rippled to help glide them through the water, but Lukas didn’t take long to speak. Her expression became lightly puzzled. Curious, but not awfully involved. She turned to look away from the fish (they were fish, right?) and up to the tall, broad, dark man in front of her.

“No… How would it?”

Her eyes follow the sharks. The movement of the water ripples on her skin, on her lightcolored skirt, on her fingernails.

The modi laughs quietly at her statement, having taken the ribbing in good humor. Then, still grinning, he answers her in kind.

“Matthias Jorgenson…

You are… new to Chicago?”

He pauses halfway through the sentence, as though deciding how best to phrase the question… As though he were unwilling to settle for anything more or less than was actually desired.

“It has nothing to do with lineage. He pushed his way into my personal business and things became rough. So I’m upset with him.” There’s a pause, then it’s her turn to raise the eyebrow. “Why do you care, Lukas?”

Turning his attention back to the two Fenrir, he nodded a touch. “Well met,” he said to Joss. “New to the city, then? Always a pleasure to see new faces.”

Something about her tone underlines the gratitude with sincerity, with the same sort of sparkle that lights in her murky irises. Her looks are diffused by the light down here, and the lack thereof; it is hard to see what she looks like, easier to smell her, to know her as the prize she is…or would be, if someone would simply fill her belly with a child or five. Her bloodline is, after all, known for its fertility. Its loyalty. Its devotion to duty. That’s known even to those that don’t know her family history; all they have to do is look at her. Smell her.

Her eyes linger on Caleb for a moment, before she tips her head to the side and lets her regard shift slightly. He is conversing with Joss more closely to him, and she a couple of yards away, so she doesn’t interrupt further. Something about both of them, the female and the enormous male, makes her want to stay right where she is. They are just too close to the limit of what she can handle, strictly speaking.

A pause. Lukas looks at the manta ray now, the edges of its wings rippling gently as it swims. Then his eyes return to Gabriella.

“I care because he’s my brother, and he cares because you’re blood-kin to him, and your actions reflect not only on you but on him. If you were my kin, I’d leave you to do as you pleased. But for better or worse, Caleb seems to care about you and what you do with yourself. The least you could do is not act so damn proud to throw his concern back in his teeth.”

She offers them her popcorn bucket to share, as she answers the question posed by them both. “Yes, I arrived last night. Just out trying to find my way around.”

In a low tone, she murmered to him.

“I don’t need to defend myself from you, Lukas, simply because you don’t care. However, if you are trying to convince me to fake affection and appreciation for that man, it is in vain. I don’t care for him, it’s as simple as that, and without family glaring over my shoulder forcing me to behave in a manner uncomfortable to me, I no longer feel the need to be false.”

She pauses, then adds.

“If that’s all you had to say, I’d like to take my leave now.”

“I wish you luck in that. I make my home in Bronzeville, but one such as you might visit Cabrini Green…

I must leave now.”

He nods to both Caleb and Joss before continuing.

“Until next we meet.”

With that, the modi makes his way toward the exit… The size of the man and the Rage flowing from him causing the crowd beyond the alleyway to start in surprise and split upon his approach.

“I’m not telling you to fake anything,” Lukas replies instead, a touch sharply. “I’m telling you to appreciate what family you have left in this city. I’m telling you to grow up.

“As for whether or not I care, Gabbie — I do. I’m fond of you. I’ve known you since you were a little girl. I would protect you if it came to that. But I have no patience left for your … Christ, your immaturity and your self-absorption. It’s not the fucking around that rubs me wrong, you know. I could honestly care less, so long as you did it with some modicum of maturity. It’s the fact that you seem to take such perverse delight in turning around to rub it in your relatives’ faces. You seem to get off on the shock and dismay of your relatives, and I’ve no respect for that.

“Katherine’s gone. Ed’s gone. I don’t know when they’re coming back.” Was that harsh? The Shadow Lord’s eyes are unflinching: of course they are. A beat. Then, again, gentler this time, “It’s time to grow up, Gabbie.”

He nods over her shoulder, then. “You can go if you want.”

She pulls one hand out of her pocket to point a finger up the hall, in the direction where they’d left Caleb, and the way she spoke was best described as a hiss of insult. “He came into my room and confronted me. I didn’t need him to know, I didn’t want him to. He insulted me, shoved into my business and expected me to be okay with that. I’m not!”

You can go if you want, he says. And so she aims to, spinning about on her heel to briskly take her leave, to get the hell away from Garou, Silver Fangs, Shadow Lords and all.

Nodding towards Matthias’ departing back, Caleb returned his attention then to the two women. Briefly his eyes alighted on Gabriella’s retreating form, looking as though Lukas had said something the woman didn’t like. Perhaps, then, he can see exactly what Caleb had to contend with.

“If you like,” he said to Joss, “I can lead you back to the Brotherhood of Thieves. It’s a bit of a dormitory-slash-cafe and bar for those of us that have a need of it. Good food, and good people. Headquarters,” he said with a low-pitched voice meaning the caern, “is near it.”

He’s waiting for her to make a mistake.

When her hand comes out of her pocket and flies up, Lukas’s reaction is instantaneous, so fast as to be unhurried. His hand unfolds from across his chest and he catches her wrist the way an outfielder catches a high fly ball, easily, solidly, unshakably, long before she has a chance to jab an accusatory finger at Caleb, all the way across the gallery.

The Ahroun’s palm is calloused and warm; nearly hot. His fingers form an unbreakable cage of bone. He doesn’t squeeze, and he doesn’t break her wrist, bruise her skin. It’s not even a particularly tight grip. It is, however, enough holds her utterly still for a second.

Then lowers her hand back to her side. Forcibly, if necessary. His eyes are a clear warning: that was enough.

She finishes what she’s saying or she doesn’t. He lets her go regardless, not moving to stop her again when she whirls and storms away.

“I have taken a room at the Brotherhood for now – I had been told to seek lodging there when I arrived. As for Headquarters, such things will come in time.”

Or not.

“If you’d like to join me on the walk back, though, I would not be adverse to your company.” Nice enough. Too nice, likely, for what one might expect of a stereotypical Fenrir.

She invited him to come along, and Caleb had no qualms with that. “Certainly.”

A look back to Lukas to see exactly how the beta-come-alpha had fared – likely no better than Caleb himself.

But what’s really telling is that she bounces slightly, her heels lifting off the tile a couple of times in rapid succession. It’s downright gleeful.

His attention moves on after a moment. Danicka has a phone call; it makes her happy. It makes her bounce like a little girl. It makes Lukas wince a little, for reasons that were too complex to explain. He glances again at the manta rays with their great dark wings and their pale underbellies; then he strolls back down the gallery, directly to Danicka this time.

She’s on the phone, so he doesn’t interrupt. There’s a sense — it’s hard to define how she knows, except that she can read every thought in his head half the time, so perhaps it’s no surprise that she does know — that he wants to slip his arm around her and kiss her temple. He contents himself with an inquisitive glance her way: come along with him?

His hands are in his pockets now. He neither offers his hand nor his arm, though on a different occasion he might have.

He watches Lukas, Lukas watches Danika, who has a happy making text. Joss simply watches them all, the way they interact, the way they carefully do not interact as well. That lingering smile plays across her lips, and she just.. watches.

True enough, Caleb had younger siblings. Sisters for the most part, but he was not their father. Indeed he wasn’t even Gabriella’s father or even brother. Aside from tribal bloodlines within House Gleaming Eye they shared no more than that, and truth to tell? Caleb had no idea how to deal with a teenage girl.

“So where’re you from?” he said turning to Joss with a disarming smile. A polite nod of thanks was given as he dipped his hand into the bucket of popcorn to withdraw a few pieces.

…throws her arms around his neck. This requires her to lift up on her toes. And that is, apparently, all right. She hugs him close, beaming as her head touches his chest. She is all but vibrating with delight.

“Minnesota. Storm Hammer.”

That may be enough for him to put two and two together and get 15. Or maybe even four. She doesn’t give him much more than that, though, to see which way his deductions go. Either he figures that her having sought and found one of the ‘Green, the fact she made not indication she intends to find Headquarters, and the Sept she hails from coupled with her breeding means she seeks the Eagles rather than Maelstrom…. or he misses it all completely. Time will tell.

Danicka throws her arms around Lukas, and she arches a brow slightly, but makes no comment on her amusement.

For the better part of a year Caleb hadn’t ventured out of his own hidey-hole in the Tekakwitha Woods for long. Only recently had he ventured out at the urgings of his late alpha.

“Originally i’m from Louisiana. Nine-Swamps.” As if she couldn’t tell from his obvious cajun accent.”

Then Danicka had thrown herself at Lukas, and a slender eyebrow quirked. “Like watching a soap-opera sometimes,” he murmured.

Danicka throwing her arms around his neck, though, does change things. His arm coming around her waist to catch her up is reflexive; his arm tightening to draw her flush against him is not, and nor is his head bending to hers. At least for the moment, he doesn’t seem to care that they were in public, in full view of one packmate, two Garou, and half a hundred humans. He does kiss her temple after all, his lips branding her skin, pressing through strands of her hair.

It’s innocuous. They could be good friends … only there’s no way, no human possibility of mistaking them for such. It’s something about the way his hand opens over her back, and the way he bends to her, his brow furrowing with the press of his mouth.

It’s innocuous; it’s unmistakably intimate, a lover’s embrace.

When he lets her go, he looks down at her rather solemnly. Danicka’s moods are capricious and complete. Once, a while ago, he asked her how she reconciles herself with herself. He doesn’t ask that anymore. For all that, he’s not the same. His moods are steadier, subtler; like deep ocean currents, slow to change, persistent.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he says, quietly. “I should’ve waited until we were in private.”

Well, often is perhaps not the right word, but there you have it. She’s been known to wonder about a great many things. Her curiosity is the primary reason she has attained her rank at such a young age. She enjoys the interaction with the spirits, she enjoys learning answers to questions few others would think to ask..

It is likely that as they walk back toward the Brotherhood, she tells him more of herself. It is possible they discover common ground, that they discover they share a moon, if not a rank. It is possible that they discover she – for all her youth – is effectively his superior in the eyes of the nation, though she does not seem the type to lord if over anyone. She’s too…. well. nice. For Fenrir. It’s odd. [she must be hiding something.. right?]

Either way, the walk back to the Brotherhood passes in pleasant conversation, a discover of landmarks, of the boundary of Eagle territory, and of course, a safe delivery to the haven of a bar itself, and the room she has taken residence in – room one. It is there that she says a thank you – and closes the door after he takes his leave.

(there ya go Ken. Night.)