[Leyna Stidolph] Leyna arrives to the Broho.. Taking off her jacket and shaking off the snow. She just needed out for awhile. Even if she was alone. Being cramped up in the pack house with nothing to do, was just boring the piss out of her. She could only clean it so many times and the repairs being all done.. really had nothing else better to do with her time.
She stomps her feet, freeing her boots from the gathered snow as she made her way looking for… well she wasn’t sure. Something. Obviously.
[Izzy Montoya] She’s been there since just moments after midnight – having spent the last 10 minutes before her “curfew” in her care, smoking a cigarette and finishing off a text conversation that left a little smirk about her lips. It fades before she got to the door.
Currently, she’s in what’s become her normal booth in the back, near the kitchen doors. On the table in front of her, her laptop, and a variety of file folders, the top of which is open to a bunch of forms, reports and a collection of pictures. Crime scene pictures, to be exact.
Everything about her screams cop. From the sensible shoes, dark slacks, tailored lighter blouse that fits her slight curves nicely, to the leather coat that’s on the booth seat beside her. She wears her gun to, though it is currently out of sight. By the glow of the laptop screen, her face is a score of mottled bruises, healing but no where near healed. It, quite frankly, looks like she was slammed face first into a brick wall -repeatedly. Which is exactly what happened. The splits on her lips are mostly healed now, as are the most minor of the abrasions across cheekbones, forehead, nose, and the swelling is pretty much gone but in its wake there is bruising that is a plethora of colors, from black fading all the way through purple, blue, green, yellow… The whites of her eyes are still more red than white, but at least she looks more alert than she has in a week. Amazing what two afternoons of sleep in her own bed at home will do for a detective.
[Leyna Stidolph] She spots Izzy, she recognized the Kinfolk from the meeting a few weeks prior. Leyna was sure the other kin was a Fenrir as well, and even more convinced now that the woman looked like she faced the last stand. She pondered for a moment, whether or not to engage the woman or to leave her be. It seemed pretty dead and well the dear detective looked like she needed a stiff drink.
Leyna moved up to the bar and gathered a pitcher of the darkest lager she could get with two frosty mugs. She wasn’t really good at making friends around these parts, but hell she would try. With her coat tucked under her arm, the pitcher in her hand and two mugs hanging from her laced fingers on the other hand, she started to approach Izzy’s table.
She didn’t say anything only set the mugs and pitcher down on the table before throwing her coat into the corner of the booth across from Izzy. She proceeded then to fill the mugs to the brim of the dark beer, sliding one over to Izzy before sitting across from the detective. Still not speaking a word… and just waited to be acknowledged or shooed away.
[Izzy Montoya] She notes the approach of the other kinfolk, though she doesn’t quite lift her gaze just yet. She finishes what she’s typing, first, and by the time she does so, a mug of dark beer is being slid in front of her. A brow quirks, slightly, over a dark and darkly bruised eye, and Izzy look from the lager to the woman across from her.
“Well, that’s a far cry better than the approach I usually get.” It’s said with a comfortable smirk that lingers around her lips as if it has a permanent home there. A glance at the corner of the screen shows her the time, before she grasps the top of the laptop and closes the computer, and reaches for the bottle of Advil in her briefcase at her side. She shakes out a few – more than 2, less than 10 – and then reaches for the mug and swallows them with a long draw of the beer.
She closes the open file and then studies the girl across from her. “You were at that meeting…”
[Leyna Stidolph] Leyna sat straight in the booth. She did not slouch or slump, perfect posture..not even her back touched the seat. Her hands placed on her lap, she didn’t sit like a lady, but more like one who was military trained. Her shoulders squared down, her chin level with floor, her dark brown eyes fixated on Izzy. Leyna smiled at Izzy as her gift was accepted, it was well reserved and pleasant, though such a pleasant smile didn’t look right on Leyna’s face.
She gave the woman a firm nod, “Oui.” She blinked and snapped her fingers. “Ja.” She grunted out slightly. “Yes… I mean.” She had to remember what language she was speaking in, sometimes it was difficult to keep up. Leyna picked up her beer and took a sip from it, “Ummm… ” She thought for a moment, the little German runt trying to find the right words. “I hope you don’t mind that I join you… but it seemed from where I stood, you needed a drink.”
[Izzy Montoya] She snorts. “I always need a drink.” That she needs one recently more than ever goes without saying. She scoops her files up, and sets the aside her laptop set on top of them, so that she can lean back and not worry about anything getting on her evening’s work. Paperwork – the bane of every cops existence.
“I don’t mind. General conversation is always better than my nightly fuckin’ interrogation.” A beat, and then an introduction of sorts. “I’m Izzy.”
[Leyna Stidolph] She chuckles slightly, Leyna could agree that there is always a need for a drink. She canted her head to the slide and watched Izzy curiously. Like Izzy has been the first cop Leyna has ever seen… which was sort of true. She didn’t get out much.
“Interrogations? Did tools did you use? What did the captured do? Did he belong to the broken shield?” She was asking questions a mile a minute. “How does one hide bodies around here? I bet you guys have like a giant furnace right?” She was deeply intrigued with her questions… she blinked again.. “Oh right..” She offered her hand to Izzy. “Leyna Stidolph.”
[Leyna Stidolph] (What tools did you use?**)
[Izzy Montoya] She blinks. First, she slides her hand into Leyna’s, her fingers cool, smooth, strong. “Pleasure.”
And then – those questions – she just waves them aside with a shake of her head. “I’m the one getting interrogated nightly. This is my prison cell.” A slight smirk, at once bitter and bemused. “Only tool is Truth of Gaia and the command of the fuckin’ Jarl.”
[Leyna Stidolph] Her hand shake was just firm, strong and rough. Leyna’s hands were severely calloused and felt like coarse leather.
She blinks at Izzy and takes her hand back. “Why are you being interrogated? What did you do?” Leyna held all her thoughts and opinions to herself at first, she wasn’t going to jump to conclusions, not yet anyways.
[Izzy Montoya] She lifts the mug again, and takes a long swallow before she answers. One thing Izzy is known for is blunt, in your face honesty. It’s no different now.
“Asked to be called by my fuckin’ name.” a beat. “Repeatedly. Until I snapped at him verbally, and he snapped back – with deadly force.”
[Leyna Stidolph] She blinked at Izzy… “What did he call you?” Leyna furrowed her brow, she did not like hearing that at all. Respect was everything to the Fenrir. One respected their Kin and their Kin respected their Garou. You never force a Get into anything they do not like or wish.. in anything.
[Izzy Montoya] She smirks. This is where they understand, or they stare in shock.
“Kinswoman. I do not find it to be the honorific they think I should – though my feelings on the matter obviously are immaterial.” She gestures absently to her face, and shrugs. “I prefer to be called by my name – especially while I’m on the job.”
[Leyna Stidolph] She blinked at Izzy, and before she could stop herself… she blundered out, “Well.. at least he didn’t call you a Kinfuck or a mare. Those are far worse than being called a kinswoman.” She said with a slight shrug. “Though don’t get me wrong, when out in the real world you should not have such….pet names.” She grunted out.
“You have the right to be called what you wish. Calling you anything else is in direct offense to the Fenrir’s law of respect. You cannot force a Get and like hell can you make them bow to your whims, even us unfortunate ones. We still have the Fenrir will and if our betters wish for us to respect them and their names, then they should do the same for us. Our names hold just as much heritage and history as theirs.” She nodded to Izzy, not easing up on her opinion.
“To strike you in such a fashion for wanting the right to be called by your name is not the Fenrir way. The Jarl has shamed all those that call themselves Fenrir.”
[Izzy Montoya] kinfuck or a mare… “They’re the same fuckin’ thing.” snapped, instantly. “To ME, it is no honor to be called such. It makes me a possession to be passed around, it marks me as a slave.”
But she pauses, and lets the other woman finish. She snorts. “Yeah, well. Tell that to them. Or rather – don’t, unless you want to look like me. They don’t fuckin’ listen anyway.”
It seems they share somewhat the same opinion on the name issue. It’s such a simple thing – yet he still cannot do it. Frustrating to say the least. No matter what they seem to want Izzy to learn by giving her to Daniel, he’s done nothing but cement her opinion on the matter. Respect goes both ways, and must be earned.
[Leyna Stidolph] She shrugs her shoulder again, “We are their kinswomen.” She said to Izzy, “We are here to serve them, that is our glorious path. It is a righteous one and even sometimes taxing on our nerves.” She tapped her fingers on the table as she talked. “We serve them so they may in return better serve Gaia.” She wanted to help Izzy… at least give her a different perspective.
“But we endure. Because we are strong.” She said to Izzy. “Our Garou often times forget how useful we are and think of us as small insignificant humans who tend to get in their way. Their mutt brains become intoxicated on their own egos. It’s true. We shouldn’t though be fighting with them. What does it accomplish in the long run? Except stroke and sedate our own egos?” She raised a brow. “Take my world with little insult Izzy, I do not mean offense or even suggest that my opinion should matter to you.” She said bowing her head slightly.
“I just say this to hopefully offer you a different perspective.” Her lips twitched slightly. “What is more important to you? Your personal honor? Or the greater good and serving justice, which will out shine any small tactless insult as petty and undeserving? There is no reason for you to take such a beating for standing up for yourself and the right to be called by your name. However is it worth it? Is it worth sacrificing the greater good for such little in return?”
[Izzy Montoya] “You don’t know shit about me, Ms. Stidolph. You assume much. Too much.”
Her voice is deadly calm, and there is very little to be seen in the carefully neutral expression that finds it’s way across her face. “I do my duty for the Nation on a daily basis – and it is worth considerably more than being labeled a breeding mare for the motherfuckin’ Fenrir. And I will take a beating every fuckin’ day of my life before I submit to being a slave.”
She takes a breath, and scrubs her hand over her face (….ow….mistake…. hiss of pain…) and then. “While I appreciate you have you’re own opinion, and you’re own ideals born of your personal experience – I have my own as well. They don’t give two shits about the why’s or how’s of the way I feel as I do, and the one time I explained something, I was told I was wrong and it was pointless to argue. I will continue to fight for the right to have Daniel sit down, and say ‘Izzy’ instead of ‘worthless whore’ which is what the word Kinswoman means to me. I will continue to fight for the right to have an opinion, and to run my own life, to continue to work for the good of the nation in a way they can’t deny benefits them – yet somehow, they deny it anyway, just to further try to prove me worthless to them. Respect is earned, Leyna. I’ve shown my honor and respect in a multitude of fuckin’ ways for my whole life. I won’t let some 20 year old fucktard tell me I’m wrong for not mating at 14 and popping out a kid a year for the ‘good of the nation'” She smirks, lopsided. “Just because I’m different, don’t make me fuckin’ wrong.”
[Izzy Montoya] (I can haz grammar – you’re = your heh.)
[Leyna Stidolph] Leyna grabs Izzy’s mug and fills it back up, before sliding it back to her. “Then by all means sister. Stick to your path of courage.” She said to Izzy, not condemning her in the slightest of fashions. “If it means so much to you, then it is the right course of action.” She was dead serious as she kept her eyes on Izzy.
“And for the record, I do not assume. I ask questions… Assumption is the mother of all fuck ups. Sometimes someone else asking questions can either ease the mind or set previous convictions into stone.” She brought her the brim of her glass to her lips, taking a sip without ever taking her eyes off of Izzy.
“To question is not wrong, to serve blindly is.” She was young, everyone always doubted the words of the young. Her words meant nothing and would be construed as nothing but mere unwanted gibberish that held no wisdom. She was used to it. Everyone wanted their own voice to be heard, that they forgot that others had theirs as well. Everyone worried about their pride, and should it be bruised… all hell would have to pay.
Reveled by their own small miseries and complaints. Entrapped by their own worlds that they could not see past the forest for the trees. Even the smallest slight against them was worth throwing everything else away. Kin and Garou, they were all the same really. Lacking common sense.
[Izzy Montoya] “I don’t mind questions. I mind someone giving the answers before they have the full list of facts.” A slight smirk. “I am a cop, after all.”
It’s what she does, it’s very much who she is. She fights for the right of all kin to run their own life, to do their Duty in ways that the Nation forgets they need – until they need it. Some day, if they continue enforcing simple requests with full beatngs, there will be no one left to do anything needed at all.
[Leyna Stidolph] “And I am just a worthless blacksmith.” She said to Izzy, as she took another sip from her mug. She looked at how much she had left and then just downed the rest of it, wiping her mouth clean with the back of her hand.
She set the mug down and reached into her pocket, pulling out a small unassuming tin and slid it towards Izzy. “That should help with the bruising and swelling. It’s a salve, don’t ask what is in it, because I haven’t got a clue. However it should help.” She grabbed her coat and slid it on.
[Izzy Montoya] “You’re only worthless if you let them dictate that you are. You’re own worth is yours to decide, Leyna. Not theirs.”
She arches a brow slightly as she looks at the tin, and reaches for it. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” She doesn’t ask what’s in it – just sets it on top of her briefcase, then reaches inside to pull out a card.
“My number – in case you need anything.” The card is white, unassuming. Detective Izzy Montoya. CPD Homicide. And her cell phone number. “Private line.”
[Leyna Stidolph] Beware the Salve smells like rotten leaves and cow urine..
She takes a the card and looks at Izzy, “I am a Stidolph. Seventh Generation Blacksmith, my family is rich in heritage for our craft skill alone.” She said to Izzy as she slid the card into her back pocket, while rising from the booth. “My hands are calloused like rough leather and riddled from burns from hard work.” She adjusted the coat so fit nicely on her thin shoulders.
“I am worthless because there is nothing for me here. No work, my hands ache for a hammer… Not that my skill is worthless or that others dictate me as worthless. Perhaps I should clarify myself better, but I do not interact with people that often.” She said to Izzy. “All this….free time has given me a chance to actually interact outside of a forge.”
She smiles slightly to Izzy, “Give them hell. Show them you are unbreakable.” She could have stayed, shared her stories with Izzy… but it didn’t seem like the right thing to do, Izzy would probably feel like Leyna was just trying to prove she had it far worse.. like some competition and she didn’t want that. She could have gone without sharing, but that would have lead to silence.
“It was nice meeting you Izzy.”
[Izzy Montoya] She nods slightly. “Only people I regularly interact with are Cops. S’why I talk like I fuckin do. So I feel ya.” She nods to the card. “Call me anytime. Even if you wanna share a brew. I’ll make time.”
She chuckles and touches her nose briefly “Well, my spirit is unbreakable, anyway. Take care, Leyna.”
[Leyna Stidolph] “That’s what I mean.” She said to Izzy and chuckled, she slid a hand in her pocket and left the Broho.. She got to meet a cop, drink with said cop and not get carded. It was a good night!
[Izzy Montoya] She watches her go, and then just shakes her head, pulls the laptop closer and opens it, and goes back to work.
Right up till 6am – when she’ll disappear to start her day, a day that’s mostly her own once again. Sorta.