Joss | Hattricks and Dinner [Marcus/James/others]

[Joss Lehrer]
She? Is excited. Really excited. In fact, she’s bubbly and hits the back door of the Brotherhood at a run, than takes the steps up two at a time, almost laughing out loud. Her skirt flows behind her, and she’s breathless when she pauses in the common room to see who’s there.

She has news for Marcus, after all. Good news.

She reaches up and adjusts James’ hat more firmly on her head and takes a deep breath, trying to slow her pounding heart. Wait till her mother hears, wait till she hears! One step closer….

[James Wagner]
The Fianna for his part is already in the common room, laying on the sofa. A pillow was beneath his head, and there was an arm across his face. For all intents and purposes James looked to be asleep, mouth open and one knee up. The TV was on, and about four empty bottles of beer sat on the coffee table.

His shirt was off, laying in a crumpled heap on the floor beside his boots. Long black hair pooled around his head, while alabaster skin that showed through the tattooing of his body glowed softly in the light.

[Joss Lehrer]
James is there, and shirtless. And she’s suddenly smiling very, very, VERY WICKEDLY. She tiptoes around the back of the couch, moving very, very quietly (as if she didn’t sound like a herd of elephants coming up the stairs just moments ago) until she’s there and…

…Vaults over the couch to land on his lap, with a cheerful “GUESS WHAT!”

As if he doesn’t already know…

[James Wagner]
Black eyes popped open in an instant the moment the girl’s weight landed on his lap. For second he actually thought he was about to get lucky until he realized whom it was, in which case meant luck had very little to do with it.

“Och, I’m fer knowin’,” he said with a grunt. “Totem-bond, ye know.” Shifting a bit, the Galliard very calmly and casually rolled to flip her onto her back and deposite himself betwixt her thighs, kneeling.

“An’ ye shouldnae sneak up ‘n a man what’s sleepin’!”

[Joss Lehrer]
She laughs, and it turns to a squeal as he flips her over. “I know, you probably heard that Evan was on his way to tell me before I knew he was coming. He told me to move into the packhouse, and showed me the territory lines, and I’m doing patrols and Mom is gonna be SO HAPPY! ME! Prospective Eagle!”

And, even better, she all but whispers the next with a soft reverence, “I met Imogen. Really met her. She’s so pretty. Mom’s gonna just DIE when I tell her!” And she reaches to her head, plucking his hat off her dreads and placing it back on the head of its rightful owner with a little pat and impish grin.

Teenage girl. Completely nuts. It’s a safe bet either way right about now.

[James Wagner]
James had a half-notion to strangle the girl and tell her to not be so damnable loud, but then he shook his head as he adjusted his hat on his head, idly wondering what little tricks she had done to it. Never trust a Crescent-Moon that was out for vengeance, no matter how playful.

“Aye,” he said with a shake of his head. It was a wonder to see how these folk reacted to his pack. To him they were just Decker, Imogen and Evan. Nothing to crow about. “Send yer muther my r’gards,” he said with a slight grin as he tickled her ribs momentarily before seating himself on the couch.

[Joss Lehrer]
Aye he said. And that’s about as far as he got because his hat? Just SHOT up off his head, as if a sudden updraft of wind sent it spirialling around and across the room. Anything else he may have said is completely lost in the fit of absolutely hysterical laughter from the young Godi.

“Oh…. oh… OH that was AWESOME…”

[James Wagner]
“Tha’,” he began slowly, “t’wasn’t nice.” Bellowing in mock-rage he leaned forward to give her the sloppiest, wettest lick from collarbone to ear in the history of licking that ever was. And then he began to tickle her mercilessly, behind the knees and thighs as well as her ribs.

“Ne’er fook wit’ a Fiann’s ‘at!” he crowed, moving to her feet.

[Joss Lehrer]
“THATS what got you into this mess in the FIRST PLACE” She is still laughing hysterically as she squirms and kicks and fights and gasps and did we mention the giggling? “STOPPIT! oh my god that was so awesome. Worked like a charm…hahahahaSTOPPIT!”

She squirms and wriggles and fortunately he CANT get to her feet because she’s wearing her boots and she slithers out from under him pushing him away with a giggle “Go get your hat before I get another bright idea….”

[James Wagner]
“Och, th’ more ye g’on like ye ‘re, th’ more I’m goin’ tae think ye’ve a wee crush ‘n ol’ Sandman,” he said with a smirk and shake of his head as he stood to brush some of the sleep from his eyes. Padding over to his hat, he picked it up a bit dubiously before coming back to put it on the coffee table.

“Ye an’ yer bright ideas,” the Galliard murmured. “Ye wait. I’m goin’ tae put superglue ‘n all yer tampons.”

[Joss Lehrer]
“You know your my one and only” she replies flippantly as she adjusts to a more presentable flop on the couch. As she is adjusting her skirts, he may notice the scaring on her thighs – four long stripes along the length, placed as a careful matching set.

He doesn’t put the hat back on, and that makes her laugh all over again. “You do that, and I’ll do something more than send your hat flying. That was just for fun – I haven’t even BEGUN to be mean yet… and since I am fond of living, I won’t do anything to Silence, you’ll just have to get double the pranking…”

She pulls her sweater sleeve down so that she can wipe her face off from where he licked it, then push her dreads back over her shoulder.

[James Wagner]
Muttering darkly to himself, James retrieved his shirt and pulled it on over his head before settling back down on the couch a safe distance away from the smaller Godi. A wary eye was cast over at her as he shook his head. “If’n tis a war ye want, s’war ye’ll get!” he promised with a wink as he grabbed for the remote.

Hands raised to shake out his long hair, and he sighed. “Ye’re goin’ tae be th’ death o’ me,” he said solemnly.

[Joss Lehrer]
She laughs and slides her foot over to kick his thigh. There is no safe distance. She’s the Spirits on her side. “You know you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And then, because she will be the death of him someday, most likely, she pulls her skirts up along her thigh and says “I haven’t shown you yet… got these after I made Fostern.” She shows him the scars and grins, and if he looks close enough, he can practically feel the energy beneath the thick ropey scars… “Know what they are?”

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*The rhythmic pattern of booted footsteps come down the stairwell from the roof. Marcus has his long john sleeves pushed up to his elbows and three fillets of scaled fish in some cloth. He comes into the common room and nods to whoever is present, and heads over to the table to heat up a hot plate, and puts a skillet on it. He lays on the fish fillets on a cloth and puts salt and pepper on them.*
[Marrick Fisher]
Marrick Fisher was finding herself without a place that she could really call hers.

There were a lot ofpeople at the brotherhood. A lot of them. People that flowed in and out and through the place and it just… it just… this whole damned city didn’t feel natural. It was making her stir crazy. It was making her other kinds of crazy, too, but one could argue that the Ahroun was already getting there. What with being in a place that she couldn’t run as well. Tht she couldn’t stretch her legs, that she couldn’t move until her lungs felt like they were going to burst.

So, there she was, making her way out of her room, with all her pent up energy and no outlet yet, and she headed out to the common room.

Hysterical giggling will draw anyone out of hiding. The Fury was no exception.

[James Wagner]
His hand reached out, impossibly quick (Spirit of the Fray), to flick her kneecap as hard as he can. “Aye, may’ap,” he said.

Joss was then hiking her skirts up, and the Galliard eyed her legs a touch too closely. “S’yer attempt at seduction?” he queried teasingly before he winked and shook his head. “Nay, an’ I’m not fer knowin’ if’n I truly want tae know.”

A nod of greeting for Marcus, and then one for Marrick as she makes her appearance.

[Joss Lehrer]
“If I was seducing you, you’d know it.” She grins up at him the slides her fingers across the scars on both thighs – 4 claw marks, perfectly matched on each. “It’s my spirit drum. When I returned from my challenge, the oldest Godi I’ve ever seen in my life gave it to me.”

She’s awed, as one should be when speaking of such things.

…then she see’s Marcus and she kneels up on the couch to lean against the back and watch him gook. “Guess what, Marcus… Guess!” She’d come back to dinner as promised, and she’s near bubbling with her news. She smiles at Marrick too, the laughter from moments before still sparking through her eyes.

[Joss Lehrer]
(gook? COOK.)
[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*Marcus smiles a bit as he goes about preparing the fish in some cornmeal.* “I give up. What’s the good word little sister -rhya?”
[Marrick Fisher]
So, there she was, in a pair of cut off shorts and a men’s flannel shirt. It was comfortable but, more importantly, it was warm. And so, she headed out, and she sat herself down nearby and looked at those gathered. If there was space on the couch, Marrick took it there. She smiled when smiled at- though, admittedly, she was a little intense.

Understatement.

But? She was a curious creature, and for her part she seemed content to listen and try to catch what this unfamiliar lady was so excited about.

[Wahya Many Tongues]
All kinds of people gravitate to and from the Brotherhood; it was a virtual way station for the furry kind. The second level was bustling with activity. One of those that frequents but doesn’t reside there wanders out of the bathroom. A towel wrapped around his head to soak up the dampness clinging to his hair. The quiet footfalls of bare feet move over carpet, making little sounds as the Uktena made the rounds.

His nose picks up an inviting scent of food and he begins to move in a quicker pace, practically stalking the halls for the smell of food.

[James Wagner]
James smiled fondly at Joss, nodding a bit and patting her thigh in a paternal manner while he shook his head. The girl’s enthusiasm was catching, all told. A heartbeat, then he quirked an eyebrow. “Joss, m’ love, did ye e’er think ye may ‘ave some Fiann blood’n yer veins?”

Marrick came to sit with them on the wrap-around couch, and he nodded to her. “Evenin’ tae ye, lass,” he said with a smile. Intense as she may be, he’s been around worse, and the aged Galliard didn’t fear much. Except perhaps the wrath of an 18 year old Get of Fenris Godi that liked to play tricks on him.

[Joss Lehrer]
And, delayed, she rubs her knee and shoots a glare at James. “That didn’t hurt you know.” It did. She, however, is Fenrir. And she laughs at that. “Not a drop, and not gonna get any Fiann in me either, you dirty old man.”

She’s not Fianna.
She is Godi.
(…she’s crazy…)

She leans farther over the couch to stage whisper to Marcus, though it carries perfectly well to whoever wants to listen. “I’m the newest perspective Eagle.” She’s positively brimming with happiness that she has a place, and the place she wanted. She’s happy that she now has the chance to do what she came to do, she has the chance to prove herself worth as Godi, worthy to Eagle. “I’m moving into the packhouse tonight. Don’t let me forget to give you my number before I head over there tonight – specially if you turn out to be a fantastic cook…”

She turns then to sit sideways, ducking her feet underneath her so that she can watch Marcus cook, and pay attention to James and Merric as well. She even turns a smile on the towel wrapped man prowling the halls when he passes by.

[Marrick Fisher]
“‘sup?” she asked. Personable. Out-of-practice, yes, but not nearly as nervous or skiddish has her packmate had been.

Strangers didn’t seem to make Marrick feel out-of-place. More curious. She had to investigate them; since it wasn’t her territory, something new and different was met with something that wasn’t claws and irritable words. The air moved, and her attention moved. And moved fast. To the source of food. Marrick perked up slightly, waiting for curiosity to be satisfied.

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*Marcus turned to look at Joss with a smile to answer her.* “Well hey that’s great. I’m sure you’ll make a fine Godi for that pack.” *He looks back at the food.* “I don’t know about great cook, but I’m a passable campfire cook. You won’t get sick on my cooking at least.” *He looks at Marrick.* “If you’re hungry I’ve got any plate here. It’s yours if you want it. I’m Marcus by the way. Two Ravens.”
[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
(any plate = another plate)
[Wahya Many Tongues]
The source of the food discovered, Marcus suddenly finds himself with a new companion, or a hovering vulture, which ever you preferred to call him, the short man, no taller than six inches over five feet, peers up at Marcus; hooded brown eyes darting back and forth between cook and food eagerly.

“Fish fry?” he asks Marcus.

The conversation carried by the others drifts from the couch, catching in muffled snippets to his ears. He glances back beyond the couch to spy James and Joss, and then even Marrick. A hand lifts up, waggling fingers in the air at those looking this way.

[Adam Swift-Arrow]
*Silent he came. Not really because he ment to, but because silent and stealthy was his default. Up the stairs after coming in from the back ‘wolfie door’. One of those gathered would know.. A buzz in the back of the mind. The feeling of unity of the hive. One of the Swarm knew what others did not. That Adam was approaching.

Ascending into sight he paused there in the common room to look around. Lots of people here tonight. New faces he hadn’t seen.

Adam wasn’t much to look at. Not overly tall at 5’9 or 5’10”. Not hugely built, but lithe, gracefull. Almost frighteningly so. Dressed casually in jeans and a white teeshirt, a normal looking black leather jacket over this. His bronze native skin was clear and his dark eyes deep. Matching dark hair topped his head.

looking over those gathered he gave a bit of a nod and a gentle lop sided smile*

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*Marcus looks at Wahya and nods.* “Yes my friend. If you’re hungry I can make some for you. I don’t mind to share.” *He looks at his hands, dirty with cornmeal.* “I apologize for not shaking your hand. But I’m Marcus. Two Ravens.”
[James Wagner]
James gave a light lift of his shoulders to Marrick, as if to say “not a thing,” before he fell silent allowing the rest to converse as they will.
[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
((For those who need a Detailed Description)): Marcus stands about six and a half feet tall, easily weighing over 200 pounds in taunt, lean muscle. He has slightly broad shoulders, and a wide strong jaw. His heritage is a mixture of Native American and Scandinavian. He has shoulder length black hair, a trimmed black gotee with long side burns and a short beard. He is dressed in faded navy blue jeans, black jungle combat boots, and a black t-shirt with a white long john shirt underneath. He looks to be in his late teens.*
[Adam Swift-Arrow]
*A dark brow rose at the mention of Marcus’ name. Moving in that general direction, Adam seemed to glide more than walk across the floor. As if he might just accidentally up and take flight at any moment* Two Ravens? Strong name. Strong Medicine there….

*Pausing before the gathered he nodded to them all* Adam Swift-Arrow. Known as Nightcrawler. *One hand raised to give them a casual wave, then fall down to his side*

[Marrick Fisher]
“I’m good, whatcha cookin’?”

She perked up, the smell hitting her senses and for the time being all she could do was think of was what this kid was working on. Her head cocked to the side slightly and then she relaxed. She was calm, but there was always, always that tension under the surface. Marcus got a name, and she returned hers in kind with an upward nod.

“Marrick. Bones-to-dust.”

Ahh, and yes, she was a woman of so few words.

[Wahya Many Tongues]
Two Ravens. The name sets his eyebrows up in a quizzical arc, he stares at Marcus and then grins, chapped lips peeling back into a reflection of his birth moon. “Wah-yah Many Tongues,” gently thumping a fist to his center of his chest. The skin of his right hand was stained with some red pigment from fingertips to wrist.

He sniffs, eyes widening. “HA! Cornmeal. Like home!” his voice rumbles in a gravelly-tone making his chuckles sound grated and low.

Wahya returns his attention back to the couch, “Irish.”

[Joss Lehrer]
She smiles happily at Marcus. “It’s what I came to do. I just hope I can prove worthy. Before James tickles me to death for my hat trick.”

What he doesn’t know yet, is that it’s not done. The next four times he says the trigger word while wearing the hat, the performance will repeat. And oh she has other ideas too… he’s lucky it was just a Air elemental.

Her belly rumbles and she reaches for James hat and sets it on her head as she looks at Merric. “You were here briefly last night. I’m Joss.” Then as another joins, she gives the rest of it. “Joss Lehrer, Gossamer Wing, Fostern Godi.”

She couldn’t be a day over 18 – dreads n piercings and all.

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
“I’m cookin’ some catfish, in cornmeal, with a little bit of onions and potatoes. And I’m got some fresh greens already been stewing for a bit.” *He says to Marrick.* “And I’ve got enough for three… no four people.” *He looks at Adam and shrugs.* “I hope it’s strong medicine. The Elder gave it to me after my Rite when we put Red Horse on the hill to rest. Two Ravens flew down and called to me as we went back down the hill. So that’s where it comes from. The Godi said they were reminding me of the two forms of Raven. One the Creator. The other the Trickster and I would have to discern which was which in the future.”
[James Wagner]
He allows Joss to place his hat on her own head, while he still eyed it and her a touch dubiously. Any woman, regardless of race, creed, tribe, color, breed, age, or anything of the sort was usually up to something at some point in their lives. If not their entire lives. His hat just better had not burst into flame, that’s all he asked for.

When Wahya says “irish,” it got the Fianna’s attention. Looking over to him, he quirked an eyebrow. “Aye?” he asked, but then everyone else was giving their introductions. A soft sigh and shrug and the Galliard joined in.

“James Wagner, Sandman tae th’ Nation o’ Garou. Fostern Galliard o’ Stag, member o’ Eagle’s Chosen.”

[Adam Swift-Arrow]
*He was taking in the other’s names and Joss’ gave him pause. A slight bow of his head and lowering of his eyes to her, then later when James speaks up, to him as well. *

A pleasure, I’m sure. *Difference to those that have earned rank is always good to show. Or so his grandmothers would have him believe.*

Nice to meet you all. Many new faces. ‘s good. Times have been hard lately. *Moving again he brushed Wahya with one shoulder* Showering here, Brother? Sage will be so disappointed.

*looking back to Marcus* I tend to follow the latter side of Brother Raven when I can.

[Marrick Fisher]
She looked at Joss for a moment, and then? her head was cocked to the side and she looked at her with brows raised. And, for a moment, she might have been ashamed of being confused. And, for a moment, she might have felt insecure… but realistically? Marrick wasn’t. She just asked.

“Okay, ‘yall keep talkin’ about godis an’ I don’t know what that is… So! Could y’all fill in th’ blanks?”

This was Marrick. Marrick Fisher. Black Fury. Okie girl, who in her entire existence, had never interacted with the Fenrir. Except, of course, for right now, when one was offering her fish and the other one was introducing herself and didn’t look to be any older than she was. Marrick knew something about her was different, but she didn’t know what precisely that different was.

[Wahya Many Tongues]
To James, when he looks to Wahya, “See Ruh-iger lately? Can no find.” There is a bump to his shoulder and his attention is drawn to Adam. He offers him a small shrug and a grin, “Only when pass here. Little Sister will endure.”

Wahya is still hovering around the hot plate, shifting his stance on his feet to move out of Marcus way, waiting for the permission to take some of the prepared meal.

[Joss Lehrer]
Oh! and… “Prospective Eagle.” There’s that happy smile again.

Yes.
A Fenrir that smiles.
(…be afraid…)

She pats James’ hat on her head with a grin “See? It’s just fine, as good as new even.” and she replaces it where it belongs, on him.

To Merrick, she laughs softly. “Sorry. Godi is the Fenrir word for those born under the Cresent moon. I am a Theurge.” As a curious girl herself, she has no problem answering questions when they are posed to her. “In saying “Godi” it tells you both Tribe and Auspice.”

[James Wagner]
“Ruhiger’s dead,” he said quietly, and James eyed Joss again when she put the hat on his head. Adam was given a nod in return.

“Well met, all o’ ye.”

[Marrick Fisher]
“Well, why don’t y’all just use th’ same words? Whatcha call all the other auspices?”

She had spent too much time around Boy. She asked too many questions, and she was prying and looking for the answers. She pulled one of her knees up close to her chest, coiled and poised and ready for damned near anything. Marrick’s attention was on Joss; Joss was the one giving her answers.

[Adam Swift-Arrow]
*Adam looked around when James mentioned AnneMarie’s death and frowned a bit. Breathing in though his nose he shook his head* That’s a shame, Sandman…. sorry for your loss. I’m sure she went down swinging.

*He’d only met the garou once or twice but he remembered her pack and the one that James just mentioned*

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*Marcus puts the fish, the onions and the potatoes in the skillet.* “Be done in about about… ten minutes give or take.” *He moves the skillet around to get everything situated to his satisifcation and then goes to wash his hands off.*
[Joss Lehrer]
She crosses her legs under her criss-cross-applesauce (Indian style, for those still workin it old school) and rests her hand on James’ arm for a moment as he tells Wahya of Ruhiger’s death. Comfort, friendship, sadness for her friend.

She then turns her attention to Marrik and her question. “Many tribes have specialized names for the Auspices. I come from a predominantly Fenrir sept, and I forget that others do not use the same, may not understand them. They are Modi, Godi, Foresti, Skald and Rotager. I will have to get used to using the more easily understood terms here.”

[James Wagner]
Marrick was given a raised eyebrow. ” ‘N their own languages, lass, t’is th’ same words.”

“Mm,” James nodded looking to Adam. ” ‘Ndeed. M’self an’ th’ Eagles mourn ‘er loss. She’ll nae b’ fergott’n.”

[Wahya Many Tongues]
Dead. Ruhiger’s dead, the Fianna tells him, he who is her pack mate. The Uktena blinks, his eyes growing wide for a moment as the news settles upon his ears. The smile fades away from his lips, now turned down into a grim line. His eyes begin to narrow, wrinkles creasing across his forehead in a dark scowl. If he were not in his monkey-skin, his ears would be pinned flat against his skull and lips peeled back from his muzzle.

He stares at James hard. “She of silent words…” he says quietly, not wanting to believe it. Wahya steps back away from Marcus and his cooking setup. Fingers curling into a fist.

[Adam Swift-Arrow]
*Adam turned and reached out. Putting a hand on his packbrother’s shoulder. Silent support. To wolves touch is a large part of their day. It’s used to convey feelings. Support. Dominance. A number of things. Wolves are always touching each other.

Garou… not so much touchie feelie out side the pack. But Wahya is in his pack and Adam lends silent support to his brother. And hopefully a bit of a calming influence as he feels their totems instinctual responce at one of their own being attacked. Even if she wasn’t packed, Wasp doesn’t like it. Not even a little bit*

[James Wagner]
“Aye,” he said. At that very moment, his hat again flew off his head but not before James could snatch out out of the air and set it to rights again. “Ruhiger’s dead. Died ‘n battle, an’ fought ‘ard. Those she fought’re dead ‘s well.”

James nodded, then stood to glance at Joss. “I’m goin’ tae get some air. I’ll r’turn shortly,” he said.

[Marrick Fisher]
“Nah, s’cool, keep usin’ yer words. Rock your cultural identity,” she said.

She stayed in her rather comfortable position. There was curiosity, yes, and it could only be described as silent fascination with Joss. With her dreadlocks, her piercings, her culture. She was a girl. And a Fenrir. And a Fostern. Female and fostern, in her adolescent brain, took more precedence than Fenrir.

“So… which is which? Ya said a godi’s a theurge but what’re the others?”

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*Marcus comes back into the room, and goes back to his cooking, turning the fish over in the skillet, along with moving the potatoes and onions around. He says to Adam and Wahya.* “Say a prayer for her later my brothers. She will hear you. She is with Gaia now and at peace. Do not be sad for her. We will all be with our loved again some day.” *In some small way trying to comfort them in his own, stoic Fenrir way.*
[Joss Lehrer]
He sets the hat off again – 2 down, 3 to go – and if he weren’t speaking of his dead packmate, she would be giggling once more. She nods as he says he’ll go get some air, and reaches to squeeze his hand gently as he moves past.

Then she turns her attention back to Merrick, as she lifts her hands to grab her dreads, and pull them around, over her shoulder in front of her, idly playing with the heavy twists as she answers. “Modi is Ahroun, Godi Theruge, Foresti Philodox, Skald Galliard, Rotager Ragabash.” She rattles them off easily, and with that patient smile of one who recognizes a kindred curious spirit.

[Wahya Many Tongues]
Wahya cannot seem to find his voice at that moment. The hand upon his shoulders offered in comfort, manages to stay the quivering Uktena. The cords of muscle drawing tight in his entire frame as he dips his head down, he grunts in response to Marcus. The only thing he can muster at that moment.
[Adam Swift-Arrow]
*Adam looked to his packmate* You’ve spoken of her in the past brother. About her teaching you our human ways?

Maybe at the next moot you can lead a howl for her? *he nodded softly* She was of Fenrir’s brood. he brother says she went down fighting and took her foes with her. For her people there is nothing better.

*His words, like normal are softly spoken. He wasn’t a loud man, but the emotion was there. He didn’t know AM well but he feels his brothers pain and the pain of yet another trooper lost in the war*

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
“If she was Fenrir. And she died fighting, she died well. There is no shame in it.” *He says solemnly.* “Your grief is understandable, and commendable. You honor her with it. It lets her know her sacrifice was not in vain. That it will not go unnoticed.” *He pats Wahya on the shoulder firmly before he heads into his room to get his messkit*
[Marrick Fisher]
Her smile was patient, and her curiousity was ravenous. That daughter of Pegasus, with blood coursing through her veins that was wrapped up in her questions, and she asked them. And she would ask them because, well, this was the city. It was the city and there were things here that were different than back home. Joss said she ame from a predominantly Fenrir sept, and so? She asked again.

“So, what’s that like? How’re y’all different from, like, me. Or Fianna. Or other folks. Like, what’s so different ’bout a fenrir sept?”

[Wahya Many Tongues]
His nostrils flare out. The scar tissue that streaks down the right side of his cheek twitches, skin pulled as Wahya works the tension from his jaw muscle. “Wahya deal in own way, she not of Maelstrom,” he says quietly to Adam, giving him a look that meant he was done with this topic of conversation.

Moving away, Wahya pads over to one of the chairs, flopping down into it and stretch his legs out. He reaches up to peel the towel off his head, dropping it across his lap and runs his hands through the matted braids that fall across his face and past the shoulder.

[Joss Lehrer]
“More bloodshed” she quips, laughing softly. She turns to look at Wahya, as he works his way through his feelings, through the news he was just given. There is a sympathy there, for the fallen and those mourning her. She knew Ruhiger only from afar, but understands the pain of loss.

Back to the questions then. “When you are with your sisters, you are more comfortable, comfortable that they get you in ways that no one else does. Any sept that is predominantly one tribe is the same way for them. The tribes are much the same when they deal with those they know, and each has their own traditions. It is only different in so much as there is one tribe, who grew from the same Traditions, and understand them instinctively, while in a Sept such as here, where there is a mixture, often the different Tribal beliefs can cause problems.”

[Adam Swift-Arrow]
*A nod and he checked his watch* I’m headin’ back too the den. Catch ya later brother.

*Looking to the others* It was a pleasure to meet you all.

*One last look to his packmate and he headed for the stairs. They were garou. Not carebears. sobbing tears and kum by ya, they weren’t. Well… maybe the Coggies. Still.

The Uktena glided across the floor and down the steps. Had to go check in on his injured sister and freaked out mate. *

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*Marcus nodded to Adam.* “Until the next time my friend.” *Then he put some food in his messkit and went over to Wahya holding it out for him to take along with some silverware if he wanted it. He took the skillet over to Joss and but a pad on a chair on the couch next to time to use it as a table. He set the skilet on the pad, and pulled out his hunting knife. He took a piece of fish and bit into it.* “Dig in.” *He said to Joss gesturing to the pan with his knife.*
[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
((Yeesh that’s a typo lovely post… My bad. He put a pad on the chair, and the skillet on top of the pad that’s on the chair.))
[Wahya Many Tongues]
Wahya looks up briefly to see Adam begin to leave. He nods to his tribe brother, no silent words exchanged between them, just the barest of connections linked by a totem. He releases a sigh, expelling the lungs from his chest. “Bye, Adam.”

Marcus looms in his line of sight, the taller man casting a shadow over the Uktena, forcing him to twist his head up. The mess kit offered out with food, Wahya reached for it with a mumbled “Thanks” and takes it. He pulls his legs up into the cushioned chair, hunching over to prop his elbows on his knees and holds the mess kit with one hand, picking at the meat with the red stained fingers and pops it into his mouth, chewing.

[Wahya Many Tongues]
(air not lungs.)
[Marrick Fisher]
She grinned a little, then nodded. The grin faded, and for her part the Fury was back to listening again. All silence and observation once more.
[Joss Lehrer]
Dinner! She smiles at Marcus as he sits the pan between them and digs in with his knife. She reaches reaches in the break off a piece of the fish, bouncing it between her fingers and palms as she blows on it to cool it, before she takes a bite, inhaling sharply, quickly, to cool it a bit more before she’s able to chew without burning her tongue. “Mmm… s’good!”

So declared, she digs in happily, repeating the process as she waits to see if there are more of Marrick’s questions. After tonight, few would be surprised to know Lehrer translates to ‘teacher’. It is different, however, to be the one teaching rather than learning. This big city life becomes her.

She smiles up at Marcus, and after swallowing a second bite. “I’ma have to keep coming back here for dinners I think.”

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*Marcus eats with his knife, and other hand like he’s done this several times.* “It would be better if we were on Pine Ridge, back in South Dakota. The night wind would still be cold but the trees would be covered with many green needles, pine… leaves. It would be lovely. Have a fire, one with Gaia and all would be right in the world.” *He shrugs and then eats some more. “But this is just as good… Different but good too.”
[Wahya Many Tongues]
“Too dry.” He says over a mouthful of food. His tongue flicks out to catch a bit of food on the corner of his mouth and licks it away. Head bowed down, face hidden under the mane of small braids. He watches the others in mostly silence.

“Never caught tribe, Two Ravens.”

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
“I am a half moon of the Fenrir Tribe. What tribe are you my friend?” *He says to Whya as he eats some more food, washing it down with a swallow from his canteen. He offers his canteen filled with water to Joss.*
[Joss Lehrer]
She smiles up at him as he talks of home, of how it could possibly be better than this, and she nods, understanding. She eats quietly, then turns to look over at Wahya when he speaks. She looks at the coffee table, and plucks up a beer that James had left behind, opens it to take a swallow, and then offers the bottle to Marcus.

…which is funny as he just then offers her some water. She lifts the stolen beer (he LICKED her. She deserves his beer.) and grins.

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*He smiles a bit at Joss’s pilfered beer bottle, and them offering each other their drinks. He taps her bottle with his canteen.* “To you in good health little sister -rhya.” *He says as he eats some more.*
[Wahya Many Tongues]
The Uktena straightens up as much as he can in the chair. His legs move, pulling knees up to his chest as he brings the mess kit up closer to his chest, elbows tucking into his ribcage. The jagged arc of his eyebrows lifts high on his brow to touch the hair line.

“Interesting,” he muses, “Two Raven’s is Norse Wolf, yet native like Wahya.” His head begins to tilt to the side at an odd angle, “Grinning moon wolf-born of Uktena’s brood, little brother.”

[Joss Lehrer]
She toasts him and grins. “And to you. By the way, You know, I was kidding about calling me ‘rhya all the time, right?” a pause. “How old ARE you anyway?” because he can’t be any older than she is….

She smiles at Wahya, and munches quietly on her dinner as they talk.

[Marrick Fisher]
She looked at Wahya, and the Fury was quiet. She just lookd at him, blue eyes bright and intense. She pushed some of her blonde hair over her shoulder and adjusted in her place. She sat down on the couch with strangers, made an attempt to know them, and for now? it worked. but, again, it was something new. Something different. Something about the recently-showered male seemed vaguely familiar, though.

Uktena, he says. Grinning moon, and she sat up with a quiet pleasure at this. For some reason, this brought her a sort of glee.

“My brother Boy shares a tribe with you,” she said. well, not her blood brother. Obviously, of course. Then again, Boy was better family than those she acquired by accident of birth.

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*Marcus smiles a bit.* “Well my father was Wendigo kinfolk and my mother was Fenrir Garou.” *He looks nods.* “Oh I know little sister -rhya. But now it’s stick. You’ll have to live with it I suppose.” *He says teasing her a bit, coming a little out of his shell, just poking his head out really.*
[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
“I’ll be eighteen in August.” *He says answering Joss’s age question.*
[Joss Lehrer]
He teases her and that makes her grin happily. He’s seen the way she reacts to James when he teases her – it makes her feel at home, comfortable. And she shrugs. “I suppose I will learn to live with it, then.”

Then he says he’s 17, and that makes her laugh once more. “This little sister is not only ryha, but older too. Not by much though. I just turned 18 a couple months ago.” She picks at her fish, munching contentedly as she listens. Marrick mentions Boy, and she tips her head before “oh – he spoke on the Litany with Marcus the other night, yes?” Putting so many names to so many new faces is daunting.

[Wahya Many Tongues]
He tilts his head down, staring at what remains on his plate. The meat is gone along with the cornmeal; anything that resembles a vegetable is likely still on Wahya’s plate. He crinkles up his nose, sniffing.

“Wahya is…” a pause, trying to think, “three?”

Marrick is offered a curious glance over. His brown eyes doing a quick sweep up and down the Fury before settling on her face, he nods. “Brother name Boy?”

[Marrick Fisher]
“Yeah, that’s Boy,” she said.

Boy. What a strange, strange name. but she continued, and she treated his name with the respect that one would treat their brother’s name. their Alpha’s name, even, but… well, we don’t talk about that.

“Mmn-hmmn,” she nodded, “Boy- half moon, human born. We just came here.”

[Joss Lehrer]
Wahya is… three. She blinks, and then remembers he said Wolfborn, and you can almost see it click in her head. “Oh. OH!” She has met Lupus before, though not many. To see one here in the city is unusual, but thrilling in part. “and you are Theurge as well, yes?” To clarify it in her head, to continue to file away the people she has met, along with the places she has seen.

It’s a lot to take in.

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*He smiles a bit at Joss.* “Alright then it’s little big sister -rhya.” *He nods as if pleased with himself and finishes up his food. He comes over to Wahya and gives him some fish.* “Here trade ya. My meat for what you have.” *He says to him.*
[Wahya Many Tongues]
Wahya looks up at Marcus when he comes over; he extends his plate out, eyes dropping to the meat that exchanges plates. He offers the Half-moon a small smile of gratitude, the only emotion he can muster at that moment. He raises the plate up, bowing his head to the Get of Fenris before pulling it back to his chest and digs into the cooked fish.

“Prefer Marcus cook over Little Sister’s. She kills meat.” He grunts softly, mouth now full of fish.

He licks the grease off his fingers, sucking on them loudly. He regards Marrick once more, the conversation distraction the wolf-born from the earlier news of loss. “There is Furies here. Serafine, Black Angel, she come here, and Tanith, fury kin, who dumped Adam.”

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*Marcus nods to Wahya, and takes the veggies he doesn’t want.* “Next time I’ll just give it to you all natural, uncooked. It’s better that way sometimes.” *He sits back down to finish eating.*
[Joss Lehrer]
little big sister rhya. “That’s a hellofa mouthful. Joss’d be so much easier.” But she likes it anyway, something that’s easily seen in the sparkle of mirth in her blue eyes, the way her smile lingers. She makes a face at the thought of raw fish, and happily licks her fingers off before stealing a bit of vegetables from marcus’ pan when he sits back down.

She settles back into the couch with a content sigh and pats her belly. “That? Was amazing. Thank you, Marcus.”

[Marrick Fisher]
She perked up. She perked up something right and proper- the gesture wasn’t exactly human in nature. One could imgine her ears forward, could imagine her tail swaying if she had one. Marrick was ready in the way that she was always ready. Eager in the way that she was always eager; Marrick Fisher was a creature who felt and existed in her entirely. All or nothing.

“Really?” There were furies here. Other furies!

Her whole face lit up.

“Oh. Kick ass,” she said. And there she was in her full teenaged element. She looked ato Joss, as if something hit her. She grinned a little. “Oh god, I can’t believe I’m older than you. I’m nineteen in December.”

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*He nods to Joss, and gathers up the dishes after everyone is finished eating. He leaves the room to wash them, and his hands.*
[Wahya Many Tongues]
“Hmm. Have no seen of late.” In reference to the Black Furies that he has seen, when the plates are taken away. Wahya curls his arms around his legs, clasping his fingers together as he lays his head back on the chair.
[Joss Lehrer]
She laughs and lifts a shoulder in a slight shrug. She’s young. She’s young and small and average and so many things that point to the fact that she should not be exactly what she is – Fostern already, and well versed in her duties as a Godi. That she changed so early was only part of the whole, her whole life has lead up to these moments spent here.

When Marcus comes back she thinks of something “Oh! Hey, if you want your own room, you can take mine since I’m headed to the packhouse. Not as much room to hang your laundry though.” a beat. “why do you do that, anyway – there’s dryers in the laundry room……” curious. Even about the little things.

[Marrick Fisher]
“…You wanna meet Boy sometime?”

She paused, but then looked at him and was quiet and eager. For her part, she was… well, she was like an overeager pup. In truth, that’s really what she was. The ahroun, with all her intensity, was personable.

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*Marcus comes back in to the room, and sits back down. He looks at Joss and shakes his head.* “Nah the room I’ve got is fine.” *He takes a sip of water.* “Because I haven’t paid any rent yet for using this place. I don’t want to burn electricity and water more then I have to until I pay my way.” *He nods as if it makes sense to him.*
[Wahya Many Tongues]
He gives a nod to Marrick, “Like that much.” Wahya drops his feet to the floor, stretching his legs out. He props his hands on the arms of the chair, hefting himself out of it with a grunt.
[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*Marcus looks at Marrick.* “Yeah I do. He put up all those to do notes, and I’ve got the stuff he needs so we can get those things done. Unless he doesn’t care I can finish them up in an evening.”
[Marrick Fisher]
“Well, we share a room,” she said with a nod. “Just come by. He’ll be excited to get it done… it’d do him some good to be busy for awhile.”

She nodded when she said that. Marrick looked at Marcus, blue eyes with him for the time being. She adjusted her position- the fury uncoiled herself from the way she had been sitting before and was, instead, criss cross apple sauce on the couch.

“I think he’d like to meet you too, Wahya.”

[Joss Lehrer]
She just looks at Marcus, and chuckles. “Ah, nobility.” She’s teasing and he knows it. She nods her agreement that she’d like to meet Boy too, other than what was done quickly in passing the other night. She has a feeling she’ll still be hanging out at the Brotherhood often.

When she has time. Evan warned the Eagles would keep her busy. Little does he know she thrives on that – she could not be more excited to finally get ready, to finally do something other than trick out her friends Hat.

[Wahya Many Tongues]
Wahya picks up the towel he had brought out with him, flipping it over one shoulder. Right hand comes up to wiggle red stained fingers at the group. Hooded eyes growing droopy with a need for sleep.

“Wahya go. Much to do. Good night.” He murmurs behind a yawn, “Will come again.”

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*Marcus nods to Wahya.* “Rest easy my friend. Until the next time.” *He takes a sip of his canteen, and stretched out a bit on the couch, leaning back just relaxing.*
[Marrick Fisher]
She nodded, and thent eh Ahroun, with all her internal tension and nervous energy and almost tangible rage stood. She was in control, she was well rested. She was ready today.

“I’m going out, y’all need anything before I head out?”

[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*Marcus shakes his head.* “No need friend. Sleep well. Until the next time.” *He says politely to Marrick.*
[Joss Lehrer]
“Goodnight, Wahya.”

She’s sat still too long. She hops up and wanders around the room, her skirt sliding in a caress along her ankles as she prowls the room. she smiles at Marrick as she asks and shakes her head. “Thanks, Marrick. Have a good evening.”

She then leans over the back of the couch next to Marcus. “Ugh. i gotta pack up again. And Then unpack. Then fix up my little waterfall.”

[Wahya Many Tongues]
The Uktena pads away in silence. His face skewering up into a small frown as he considers where he’ll go to find sleep; there was a strong desire to not return back to the home of his tribal brother. There was much to consider with the turn of events.
[Marrick Fisher]
With that, the blonde Fury headed off to her room. Presumably to put shoes on. And with that? she was gone.
[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
*Marcus nods to Joss, and pats her hand.* “Do what you’ve gotta do sister. It was good to speak with you again. Sleep well. Until the next time.” *He gets up and heads to his room after picking up the dishes.*
[Marcus Schwarzkopf]
(Thanks for the scene everyone. Have a good one. :) )
[Joss Lehrer]
She chuckles – she was just making conversation and avoiding packing by talking about it instead of doing it. He called her bluff, and thus, she is left to do exactly that – pack up and make the move.
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