[Izzy Montoya] There is no shortage of hole in the wall pubs in the Green. Most are dark, dingy, and clean is more of a suggestion than a reality. Bub’s is one such place, and one that Izzy has been known to frequent for a quick meal and drink before tackling the endless piles of paperwork that goes with her job.
Paperwork she actually has with her, currently, in the form of a file folder spread out on the table before her, which she reads in the low light as she digs into the meal – burger and fries, heartattack on a plate – that was just set in front of her.
[Trent Brumby] He had called earlier on, once he’d finished work for the day, to see if Izzy was available to catch up for a drink. They’ve been meaning to do it for awhile now, and Kora’s push for them both to be involved in this river working bee was the excuse for them to catch up. Plenty has changed since they last saw one another, but life is rarely static.
Knowing the pub well enough, having been here on two occasions, at least, he slips inside the door and scans the area. She’s not all that hard to find. He walks over, dressed in a pair of jeans and a t.shirt, forgoing the usual buttoned down.
“Hey Izzy. Long time, no see,” he says in a low voice, approaching the table to pull up the other chair.
[Izzy Montoya] She looks up as he speaks, and takes a long moment to just look him over. She’s a detective, and a damn good one, and seldom misses anything – but she’s looking for something specific… his happiness.
Finally, her lips curve into a comfortable lopsided grin, and she scoops up the filefolders and sets them aside. “Hey, Trent. That it has been…”
A quirk of her brow, amused, her tone teasing “Kora keeping you tied up, I suppose…”
[Trent Brumby] She finds that he’s looking like he’s missing out on some sleep and its wearing on him. Ironically it’s not for the reasons she might think, though that, too, is part of the whole busy hours keeping him from a good nights rest. But he looks well enough, summer suits his skin, making it a few hues darker then she remembers it.
Sliding into the seat, he lets out a quiet chuckle, pale eyes gleaming as he shook his head. “I wish,” and boy did he. But it never happened. Not that Kora actually needed to tie him down physically in any case.
Settling, he gets comfortable and stretches out his legs to one side. “How are things with you?” He looks at her directly, a small smile threatening to show in the corners of his mouth. “Everything going well?”
[Izzy Montoya] “Do you now…” She chuckles, and waves over a waitress to mime getting him a beer to match hers, and then turns her attention on him. “You don’t sleep enough as it is.”
That is a perfect example of the pot calling the kettle black, of course. She has gotten very little sun, and very little sleep through the past months, and it shows in countless little ways – all of which are familiar. In her line of work, it’s just another job hazard, after all.
“Things are… well. They are. John and I are consolidating residences.” …or moving in together, shacking up, whatever the kids now days call it. “and Kora hasn’t saddled me with some young strapping teenager wanting to impregnate me yet, so I guess they’re going ok. You?”
[Trent Brumby] “Tell me about it.” He draws in a breath and sighs it out as he leans forward and rests his forearm on the edge of the table. After a brief glance over her paperwork, in which he really doesn’t take notice of it, he glances politely away from it and across the bar. “I’ve got a Kinfolk staying with me and he’s in a bad way,” Trent explains his lack of sleep.
But glancing back to her, he smirked, “I wish it were for other fun times.”
Raising his brows at her moving in with her beau, had hints of a smile in his eyes. “Making the big move? We haven’t done that. She likes to stay with the pack, in some rundown goddamn church of all things.” Clearly he doesn’t like that she’s staying in such a place, Garou or not.
[Izzy Montoya] “Kinfolk huh? Anyone I know?” and then, that expression becomes dangerously close to a smile. She always was more comfortable with Trent than most others – once she got past the disapointment fact he didn’t try to jump her bones every time they met, of course.
“Yeah, we were spending every night together anyway, figured it made sense to pick one place to do that in. He still gets pissed when I take the stairs instead of the elevator, but otherwise, things are going pretty well.”
She shakes her head, and chuckles. “they always pick the worst places to stay in… when I met her – granted not under the best of circumstances anyway – she was living with Kemp in a storage unit.”
[Trent Brumby] “No, I don’t think so? Erick Anderson’s his name,” Trent explains to her. “He was a former Black Eagle? I don’t know much about what that means, except for the fact that he’s a veteran soldier.” Or was. He is no longer, not really. “They rescued him recently from, well, somewhere awful.” Trent doesn’t want to tell her the details. She may be a cop. But he’s still quite sexist even though he shouldn’t be, and he doesn’t want to burden a woman with the sort of stories that Erick tells Trent over a few scotches when the former can’t sleep.
“But,” drawing himself back in the chair, he shakes off the topic, “everything seems well with you. I’m glad to hear it. Still working too many hours, I see.”
[Izzy Montoya] She shakes her head – she doesn’t recognize the name, but that’s not really unusual. Folks tend to come and go through the sept like water a sieve most days. She notes he doesn’t go into detail – but doesn’t push. She has her own horror stories in the past enough to know the picture is never pretty.
Working too many hours… she snorts, and shakes her head. “Still working an average of 18 hour days, yeah. John too. Not sure we’d know how to function any other way though.”
[Trent Brumby] “So how does that work with you both?” He doesn’t have any qualms about asking her this, they had developed a sort of relationship back when, that allowed some sort of open freedom, and over the time that’s one of few things that doesn’t seem to have changed much. “With working all those hours between the two of you, where do you get time to spend with each other?”
Looking up, he nodded and smiled his thanks to the waitress as his beer is set down on the table. When she was leaving, he reached for it, bringing it to his mouth to take a sip as he looked back across the table at the Get of Fenris Kinfolk.
[Izzy Montoya] She doesn’t mind his questions- he’s one of the few she knows she can be honest with, that won’t judge her or call her weak if she lets her guard down. It’s a rare quality to have in a friend, and she has precious few of those.
“We work most of the same hours, unless I’m on call, or he’s undercover. That’s part of why we brought up the move – as we get only a few hours together as it is, it’s just easier if we don’t have to choose which place to do it in. Hazard of the job – we live and breathe it, at all times.”
and then.. “speaking of – did Finn get ahold of you? He was supposed to drop off some forms for your river clean thing, so we could work the donation. it’s already approved – soon as the forms are signed.”
[Trent Brumby] Nodding he set the glass back on the table and drew his hand back to rest his wrist on the edge of the table, fingers lightly curled, comfortable and relaxed. Now and then his gaze would flicker off to someone else moving around the bar, at a quick movement or louder bark of voice. He worked security at pubs, noticing such things is habit as much as her job probably entails. There isn’t much else to say on Izzy’s personal life.
“What papers?” Finn. Shaking his head, he gives a small shrug of his shoulders. “Can’t say I’ve heard a word from him. I can chase it up tomorrow, if you’d like. Got anywhere I can drop in and grab them?”
[Izzy Montoya] She mutters something, and then shakes her head. “Yeah, come by the station tomorrow, and I’ll get them for ya. Just a request form – official like for the papermill. The donation is already approved, and I had finn put up a volunteer sheet in the breakroom too. Should have a good showing of Chicago’s finest to help out in whatever way you need.” she tosses him a lopsided grin. “I might even show up. Assuming the homicidal maniacs take a couple hours off.”
Then – since they covered her love life… “When ya gonna knock up Kora?” and yes, she carefully moves back out of swatting range.
[Trent Brumby] “Oh good. Thanks a lot for that Izzy.” Brightening a little, he certainly looks and sounds appreciative. There’s something a little softer in tired eyes. “I’ll come down on my lunch break, somewhere before one,” he tells her, always liking some organization in his life. He’s a neat freak. For one of Black Fury’s blood he really likes order and structure.
Laughing then, he reached a hand up and rubbed the back of his neck, and for a moment she had to wonder if that extra glow to his skin was a sudden, light blush. “Actually, you know, it’s not for the lack of trying.” Dropping his hand down, he wet his lip and suppressed his grin as he reached for his drink again. “But I think Kora will freak out when the time comes.”
[Izzy Montoya] She waves away his thanks… “Anytime. I would have done it without Kora’s prodding, too, just for the record. You know you can call me anytime – for anything.” Reminder given, she chuckles as she watches his reaction to her question.
“She might.” Freak out, that is. “But it would get her off my back. She says she supports John and me – but if one of our raging assholes decides they want a taste of either of us she said she’d support the claim. Unless, of course, I decide to get knocked up myself.”
She shakes her finger at him playfully. “So keep her occupied. I ain’t plannin on getting fuckin knocked up, myself.”
[Trent Brumby] He learns more about Kora through others then any sort of direct questioning himself. Then again, most of the time he spends around Kora is listening to her talk about others, events, deeds, or having her legs wrapped around his hips. While he knows her well, he doesn’t know much about her, still. He seems a little surprised at something she says, about Kora supporting another claim, but the moment he thinks on it, has him nod a little. He can understand it, even if they might not like it.
“She’s plenty busy. Just stay under the radar and I’m sure you won’t have a problem,” he assures her, trying to help out a little. Trent doesn’t say it, but it’s only recently he got Kora a pregnancy test, since then she’s avoided the topic. He’s getting anxious about it. Her reaction when he first asked her hadn’t been the best.
[Izzy Montoya] She chuckles. “I try to stay under the radar. Ever since the Daniel thing – but still don’t fuckin’ like it. My tongue has holes in it at this point. I kinda miss telling them off. The perps miss my taking it out on other people instead of them, too.” it’s said easily enough, but there’s a nugget of truth there. She doesn’t like being censored. Ever.
She looks at him, long and careful, and tips her head, slightly. “Is that time she might freak out closer than she figures?”
[Trent Brumby] “I’ve no tears or sympathy for the perps.”
Then she asks about Kora again and he slides both hands up through his hair, pushing back dark curls that are in need of a cut sometime soon, but still doesn’t look very scraggly on him. “Yeah, I think so. I think she’s, well, don’t pass this on to anyone else? Keep it between us, I’m not sure that she’d appreciate me even talking about it.” Which is enough to make him hesitate even now.
“It’s like she thought she could continue to fuck and not worry about falling pregnant, and even though she claims she knows she couldn’t take a Kin from another Tribe without following through with it, I don’t think the reality has caught up.” His voice is quiet now, and he’s expression is more serious. “She expects to die rather then live, and I think living scares her more.”
[Izzy Montoya] “Me either, really.”
And then she listens. Few people know that she is as empathetic as she is – it’s always wrapped up in the hard as nails exterior built through her occupation and past experiences. The few who know her like this, though, know better. She listens, and she understands.
“I think it’s different for them – I understand it to be honest. If I were to get knocked up, they’ll slap me on a desk before I could say pregnancy test. Being on the sidelines.. well, I’m not so good at that, and being chained to a desk would drive me insane. It can’t be much different line of thought for her. She’d have to choose the war, or step back for a bit to protect the child… and most Fenrir.. well. They don’t live long. Dying is a bigger fact of life than birth is. If you take the fighting and the surviving away – she might not be sure how to react, what would be left. Dying is easy. To live though… that takes real guts, and it’s fuckin’ scary as hell to boot.”
[Trent Brumby] Listening to her, he nods a little, contemplating what she’s said. He’s thought along similar lines, but the Black Furies were quite different to the Get of Fenris. Having children for them was some celebrated blessing, and Kora, well, that hadn’t been quite the same reaction. “I don’t know what to say or do, really. I’m more then happy to raise a child, and she knows that already.” Trent could change diapers and raise a child, though looking at him its quite an odd combination. He’s a hard working class man with stubble across his face, and has some odd past times.
“I tell her she doesn’t have to, and she claims that she does. But I don’t want her force her into something, that’s the last thing I want. I hate seeing her uncomfortable.” Picking up his beer he took a larger sip of it.
[Izzy Montoya] She nods, and chuckles. “Got it bad, don’t ya?” She leans back, and takes a swallow or two of her beer.
“Kin theivin isn’t looked too proudly on – Fenrir tend to stay with their own, so she’s already feeling a bit of pressure. Maybe mostly from herself, though she likely wouldn’t admit it. She’ll come around, I’m sure. Hopefully soon…” a pause, then “How’d you two hook up, anyway?” a brow quirks as she teases “she one of your clients?”
[Trent Brumby] Beer nearly choked him and he quickly set the glass on the table as he covered his mouth with a fist, coughing it off. She can hear a laugh under it all. “What! No, nothing like that. Though,” his brows raise and he tilts his head a little in a shrug that says he’s considering just that, and how much he wouldn’t mind it. He doesn’t say anything else on that line of thought.
“We met uh, at a pub, listening to some band. I was drinking with Adrian at the time, and well on my way to being quite drunk,” he tells Izzy fondly. “After that, I met her a few times, before she jumped me on a park bench.” What man wouldn’t grin at that?
[Izzy Montoya] He nearly chokes, and she just grins at him. And throws her napkin at him to break him from the sudden ideas floating around in his head at the though. “Yeah, yeah.”
She chuckles then, as he tells the rest of the story. “Ah, the ever popular park bench. Romantic.” of course, she’s jumped men in far less savory places, so there is zero judgment behind the words, just good-natured teasing.
“Still taking clients, or she put a kabosh on that?” curiosity, that’s all.
[Trent Brumby] Taking the napkin with a small thanks, he uses it to wipe off his mouth and his hand before setting it back on the table, eyes still gleaming with good humour at their conversation. It was nice to catch up. Their banter came easily. It’s a good change from the misery of a man living in his spare room. “Clients? No, you’ve got it all wrong. It was more.. . ” He pauses, struggling how to put it into words, debating if he even wanted to.
“If anyone was a client I was, and no, I approached her about it in a round about way, and… let’s just say I’ve hung up that particular bag.” But it’s not that he wanted to either, but some sense of righteous duty or something like it. “It’d be great if she’d .. . well, nevermind.”
[Izzy Montoya] She chuckles and arches a brow, her eyes sparkling with mirth as she teases him… “If she’d… what.. keep you tied up? find your back of tricks? have you rub her feet? I remember you being quite good at the foot massage…”
She takes a long swallow of her beer, and just shakes her head. “I should have jumped you when I had the chance. Alas, now we’ll have to settle for just being friends…”
[Trent Brumby] “I showed her the bag of tricks and explained, which took her by surprise, but the bag’s been in the closet ever since.” Which is what he had a problem with. It had been a big part of his life and who he is, and now it’s right there, always taunting but never coming out. “She gets foot massages all the time, and personal hair washing, cleaning, cooking, the usual domestics.” He admits this easily and without any sort of shame or hit to his masculinity. Trent wears his manhood well and doesn’t see any problem with his lifestyle.
But she has him laughing softly. “It seems like you’ve got yourself a good guy, anyway. He treats you right, doesn’t he?” This is asked a bit more seriously, his brows raising as he watches her from across the table.
[Izzy Montoya] “You miss it.” simple enough, obvious enough. They have to give up so much because of their blood – and it’s never easy. It’s part of why she fights so very hard to keep her independence.
She gets all these things all the time, and she grins at him, before he turns it on her. “I’ve known John a long time. We were partners back when I was in Chicago the first time. He knows more about me than.. well, anyone. I even told him what happened in Florida – though not until the Daniel fiasco. And even knowing that, and all my past… he still wants me.” She shakes her head, her smile softer now. It’s clear she cares very deeply for him. “And yeah, he treats me right.”
[Trent Brumby] “Yes, I do.” Almost every day, it’s a big part of his life suddenly gone. What makes it worse is that there’s still fringes of it that reminds him every day he’s with Kora. “Maybe I’ll speak to her about it. Or do you think she might bite my head off? I’m still largely ignorant of the Tribe.” His face doesn’t have long to darken with brief thoughts of Joe, before she’s answering his own questions.
It makes his mood lighter and has him nodding with a small smile. “Good. Or, you know, I’d have to do something about it.” At least the Get of Fenris have a few things in common, not many, but a few.
[Izzy Montoya] “I’m no export on relationships – or on the Fenrir, but talking can’t hurt. At least she talks.. and listens. Daniel didn’t do that. He never even let us have the meeting Kemp wanted, so he’d know why I do what I do, did what I did. they’re as individual as anyone else, Fenrir. But it never hurts to try.”
A pause, and then a little grin. “Maybe get her drunk first.”
And then he’s being protective, and she arches a brow, and teases. “Think I’m in too deep to put a bullet in his kneecap if he steps out of line, do ya?”
[Izzy Montoya] (export = expert! *L*)
[Trent Brumby] “Drunk? It’s hard enough to have her walk from the front door to the kitchen before she’s up on me,” he tells Izzy, wincing a little as he sort of blurts that out and quickly clears his throat. “But I did not say that and you did not know.” It’s so easy to talk to her about these things, since he was more open and honest with her than he had been with Kora – and still is with his own mate. Being female Garou tends to change the way he reacts to them after all.
“But I’ll just lay it out on the table, and see what can be done about it.”
Barking a laugh then, he grinned outright. “Yes, yes I do, Izzy.” Lifting his glass to her he inclines his head in her direction. “But I know how that is.”
[Izzy Montoya] “oh REALLY…” He blurts it out and she just laughs, and shakes her head. “And I’m the one in too deep, hm?” She waves off his warning, chuckling. “I didn’t hear a thing. You’re talking to the woman who drug a garou to a bathroom in a restaurant because I couldn’t wait to get home – so. I get how it goes. We women have needs, you know..”
She really tries to say that with a straight face. She fails, and gives up trying as she takes another drink of her beer. “I’m never in too deep to miss a shot. The fact I said kneecap instead of groin might be more telling than anything, though, huh?”
[Trent Brumby] Resting his forearms into the table, he lowers his hands around his glass to lay flat instead. He’s chuckling under his breath and shaking his head at her. “Yeah, it tells me that women really do have needs and don’t want to compromise them.” Winking at her he offers another smile.
“I’d like to meet his fellow. He’s another of the Tribe, isn’t he? My little introduction to the Fenris hasn’t gone over that well so far,” he explains to her, growing serious again. “That Joe fellow? The one that left Kora in a lurch? The first time I met him, he went to grab me about the throat. He had some serious issues.” And it seems, Trent had them with him in return.
[Izzy Montoya] She nods, and chuckles. “Yeah, John’s one of us. He wasn’t raised in the tribe though, and has had a hell of a wake up call. He’s not very fond of the True, or the way they see us as second class. He understands why I fought Daniel, yet still asked me to compromise myself in a way he wouldn’t just because I have tits. I mean, they’re fantastic tits and all – but sheesh.” There’s frustration there, but the fondness overrides it, the love underscores it. She understands why he did what he did, and it’s likely that’s the only reason she survived the ordeal.
And then there’s Joe. She smirks, and shakes her head. “That little prick deserves to be shot. I can well imagine how your meeting went. Ours didn’t go much better.”
[Trent Brumby] His laughter is a quiet thing this time, as he sees her frustration there, but the way she speaks so very bluntly always was refreshing. He liked strong women, clearly, and never got offended even if they could curse like a sailor either. “It’s not .. . I’m probably going to put my foot in it here, but it’s really not that you have breasts,” no tits, “and a vagina. But more to do with the fact we don’t want to see those we care about hurt and try to minimize it. Sure, our advice and reactions aren’t the best at times, but I’m sure he had his heart in the right place.”
As for Joe, he draws in a breath and nods, saying nothing this time and picking up his beer to drink again. Joe, and to think Kora would have ditched him for that fucking prick of a Garou. Trent still fumes inside about that, it had cut some deep part of him, surprisingly, when Kora had slipped that out. Sure it was before everything. But no man likes to be second best.
[Izzy Montoya] She just chuckles. She doesn’t get offended by his putting his foot in it, as he says. She just shrugs. “Thing is – we feel the same way about you testosterone filled idiots. It’s a bit of do what I say, not what I do, you know?”
And she watches him, and then nods, slightly. “I can well understand the frustration it must have been for you. I don’t know how he held them so tightly – he was such… such a singleminded raciest prick and I never got why they chose to follow him.” A pause… then, softly and with no small amount of hate… “He wanted to kill John.”
[Trent Brumby] “Except for me. I’m content to do as I’m told, most of the time,” he quips before things get back to seriousness.
Pale grays shift across her face as he listens to her talk about Joe and the way he was. Trent didn’t know the Garou well, had met him only once and that had been enough, but he heard stories through Kora, saw the admiration in her eyes, and his own thoughts are reflected from Izzy’s mouth. “I never understood it either.” Still doesn’t.
“Why did he want to do that?” Though he doesn’t sound surprised.
[Izzy Montoya] He quips, and she sticks her tongue out at him, and chuckles.
Then he asks the question. She doesn’t answer right away, choosing to wave at the waitress for another round first. Then, she nods, slightly. “John was dating a girl named Maija before I came home. There was some sort of mishap, and she was killed by a garou that was her friend. He’d been tainted or something, and she protected another kin, and was killed. They didn’t do anything to him – after all, she was just a girl, a kinfolk, nothing important to them. They kept him in the bawn, and John convinced one of them to bring him there, to confront his girl’s killer. He shot him. Didn’t kill him – but did his damnedest to.. that’s the reason we’re forbidden from the bawn now. And when John wouldn’t back down and say he regretted it, Joe decided he was a detriment to the Tribe, the Nation, and was going to kill him outright. Kemp gave John a chance, but he wasn’t too happy about it.”
She finishes off her beer, and takes the new one as it’s delivered before continuing. “John still has notions of banding the kin together, and reminding the True that they are nothing without us, that we outnumber them and don’t have to put up with being second class and disposable… like Maija was to them. I understand it, and have fought against it in my own way – but I don’t…” Her brows knit together, and she tries to explain how she feels about it – but the words don’t come.
“I don’t think it will work, and I’m scared…” That she admits it to Trent shows the level of trust that she has in him. “… I’m scared I’ll lose him to this need for Vengence, his desire for some sort of kinfolk revolution…”
[Trent Brumby] This definitely needed another round of drinks. He listened to her, growing quiet himself, even in his expression. Not even the sounds of others draws his attention away now, and it keeps riveted on her features, reading what was in her voice and face as she allows it to open up and out towards him. “Does he still feel strongly about it? It’s possible to live on the fringes of the society, especially with the job you both are doing.”
“Stirring up those that already have Rage and don’t think like us, is like poking a hornets nest. The better option is putting on gloves if you’ve got to go near the hive, or try and avoid the area it’s in. What we do, to help the cause, doesn’t have to be entwined with them unless they want babies or need a favour. If you are both together now, working hard as you do, its better to keep a low profile.”
“Have you tried talking him out of vengeance?”
[Izzy Montoya] She runs her fingers through her hair, before letting her hands fall together around her bottle, her fingers resting against the chilled glass. “We haven’t… talked about it for a while. When we do, he only says that if anything happens to him, that there’s a package I’ll get that will explain everything.” She snorts, well aware of how that sounds.
“Part of me is proud that I’m the one he trusts enough to explain everything too – another part wishes there wasn’t anything TO explain. I’ve lived in the Tribe, smack dab in the middle all my life. I fight battles the only way I know how, and suffer for it. But what he wants… I get it. i do. I understand it. But I don’t think anything will ever change. He thinks it only doesn’t chage because everyone thinks like that it can’t.”
She sighs, deeply. “He is afraid that I’ll be taken from him too. Kora’s threat about honoring Trueborn claims rattled him, though he won’t admit it. Especially when she said there as only a chance that it’d be ok for us if he knocked me up. It’s another demand, another law that’s pressed on us.”
She just shakes her head. “We do our best to stay on the fringes – but they keep poking at the sore, you know? It doesn’t make it easy.”
[Trent Brumby] “I don’t know too much about this Tribe, only my own, and that’s a whole other ball game,” he splays his hands out on the table, looking at her, “but while you’re both together, why worry about what could happen? Just continue what you’re both doing. How long has it been now? And there hasn’t been any troubles, has there?”
“I know they’re not easy to get along with, and set in their ways, or really don’t take our opinions seriously, but if you can avoid them, great. If you can’t? Try playing nice, even if it makes you want to choke on your own tongue in the process. It gets better results.”
[Izzy Montoya] How long has it been? “6 months or so. I think we’ll have an easier time with Kora as Jarl – but she is just as set in her ways as Joe was. Maybe less bigoted, but still.” She shakes her head, and chuckles. “I’ve got holes in my tongue from biting it so often. I’ve never had to do that before – before I was respected for what I could do, what I can help with. Here? No one gives a shit. Hell, she doesn’t even know, because she’s never given a shit enough to ask.”
A wince. “Sorry, I know she’s your thing… I don’t mean to talk bad – it’s just the same thing I’ve gotten from everyone here. Second hand, no respect, nothing. It’s just… frustrating.”
[Trent Brumby] “No, it’s fine, please speak your mind. It’s not like some windwhirl romance,” he tells her with a small, sympathetic smile, “she hardly asks a thing about me either, and I’m her mate.” True enough, but he doesn’t really think about it all that much. Brooding just makes the mood darker and gets no where. He’s somewhat of an optimist.
“I’m going to tell you, think less about them and more on your own life. Don’t think they’re going to bust in the door any day, because chances are they’re not. If they’re not asking about you, if they’re giving you nothing, then it’s even easier to be overlooked. Stay in the background, do your job, enjoy your man, and live Izzy. Cross other bridges when you get to it.”
“But if you want respect from them, then you play by their rules, that’s how you get it. They’re not like us, and their world is not ours. But you can’t have it both ways, no matter how much you might want it. ” This is said firmly but not harshly. He’s really trying to be gentle about it, with a backbone.
[Izzy Montoya] “It just…” she sighs, frustrated. “I want to help. To do what I do, to offer what I can. This war is ours, too and I’m not some soft prissy kin. I’m a warrior, a fighter, an officer. I’m a detective and damn fucking good at it. I can help. And all I want in return is for them to let me do it, and show me the respect that I have already earned over and over again by letting me live.”
She smirks, slightly. “I know it sounds stupid. But every time I relax, and start to enjoy life, she shows up on my doorstep again.”
[Trent Brumby] “You know as well as I do, that if you want to be on the front lines with them, expect to be held to their standards. It’s really as simple as that. And there’s nothing saying that you can’t help the war, and be all that, in your own life. You just want the recognition from them, and at the same time you want them to leave you alone to live your own life. Can’t have your cake and eat it too, Izzy.” Lifting the beer he took a slow drink of it and set it back down again.
“Maybe she shows up to get to know you. I know that she’s been making me go through the efforts of knowing the Kinfolk, trying to make it all community minded or something.” His mouth quirks and he lets out a little huff. “I don’t think it’s to intrude on your life, but try and bring the Tribe together.”
[Izzy Montoya] She grunts. Part of her knows he’s right. But it’s still… She shakes her head, and then shifts the mood again, this time to banter easy and light…
“She’d kill me if you and I… you know.. brought the tribe together on our own..” She winks at him, before tipping back her bottle to drain it in one long swallow after another.
[Trent Brumby] “Oh I don’t know,” he leaned back in his chair, “unless you’re talking about some innuendo here, and if you are, I totally missed the mark.” Pale eyes dancing, he chuckled quietly in the back of his throat and took a swig from his own beer.
“But speaking realistically, if we could? I don’t think she’d mind. Believe it or not, I think she actually likes being around people.” Not people, garou and Kinfolk he means, but that’s close enough.
[Izzy Montoya] She groans. “See what monogamy has done to me? You totally missed the mark. I’ve lost my touch…” She shakes her head mournfully, before she chuckles at the last.
“I don’t know. I really don’t. If she wants to get to know me, she’s really on the wrong path. Maybe she’ll learn, maybe not. Only time will tell.”
[Trent Brumby] “You’re too hard on them.” He tells her honestly, but quietly. There’s not really any judgment in that either. It’s not like he’s taking it personally or asking her not to do it. In fact he gives her a small smile as he finishes off his beer and sets it aside. “Shouldn’t you be finishing this up and getting back to your man, or is he busy tonight?”
[Izzy Montoya] “They’re kids, Trent. Children with more power than they know what to do with. Someone has to be hard on them.” It’s said softly. She doesn’t try to change his opinion, she knows there is no judgment there, and she holds none for him.
And then she looks at her forgotten meal, and chuckles with a nod. “Yeah, I should. He’ll be home soon. I try very hard to keep my promise that I made – that I’ll always come home to him. Not always easy, but so far, so good.”
[Trent Brumby] “They are, but they’re not kids like we know children. They’re something entirely other. You need only look in their eyes to see that we’re not the same, even if our genetics may say we’re a part of them.” The beer is finished and he sets it down.
“It’s been good catching up. I’ll drop by the office tomorrow for those papers, and see you when you bring all your boys in blue,” his mouth quirked and eyes gleamed – there’s definitely something there in that, but he swallows that down, “if not before.”
Rising out of his chair, he pushes it back in, holding the back brace with his hands a moment. “Try not to worry too much, about them, really. Just enjoy what you’ve got.” Then nodding to her with his chin. “And take care of yourself.”
[Izzy Montoya] “I know. But even animals an be trained to respect others.”
She nods, and then chuckles. “I’ll make sure they’re in uniform for you. Handcuffs and all.” she reaches for his hand, and gives it a quick squeeze – as meaningful as any hug from someone else might be.
“Take care, Trent. And remember – you can call me anytime, for anything.”
[Trent Brumby] Taking her hand, he lifts it and kisses the back of it with a wink. “It’ll make for a fine if not frustrating day,” those uniforms and their handcuffs. Letting go of her hand he nods to her with another smile. “The same goes for you Miss, if you need anything, even just to vent, give me a call.”
“I’ll talk to you later.” With that, and any parting comments from her, he went to the bar to settle her and his tab before he’d walk out of the pub and to where he parked his car nearby.
[Izzy Montoya] She just chuckles as he kisses her hand. “I do aim to please.”
And then, with a wave, she watches him go – and starts to say something as he makes to pay the tab, but then just lets it be. She, possibly more than anyone, understands that somethings will simply never change.
A wave as he moves to the door, and then she goes about putting her files away, and gets the rest of her burger boxed up to take home and finish there.