[Derek Anderson] He had smiled even more at her enthusiam about her homeland. He placed his arm on the table, forearms crossed, leaning slightly forward, getting comfortable “Go on, it’s really interesting”
His eyes watches her when she speak and only her, as if she was the most interesting person in the world. Given her beauty, it might actually be what he thinks, or just maybe, he always care about what someone say to him. He look away only where the’re’s a pause, his eyes always coming back to hers.
[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] “I’m of the belief that people build buildings in such a manner as to say what is important in society. In the middle ages, the emphasis was on the church and as such, churches were to be the most opulent and involved and tallest structures in the city. Over time, the emphasis was placed elssewhere- public buildings, city structures, until finally we have skyscrapers, and they’re what we notice on the skyline and it’s private homes and corporate structures that we place our interests in, because that is what society deigns to be the most important. I think it’s interesting, but I haven’t actually had a lot of chance to actually do research on the matter,” she leans forward and goes on in her speech. It’s all theory, but she’s… thinking.
She does a lot of that.
[Derek Anderson] He smiled as she talked, not drinking nor eating. Just listening. Once she was done, he took a sip from his cup, letting her words sink in. “I don’t know if it’s the truth, but it certainly seem like it. After all, Palaces during empires, Senates during Republics, Castles during Monarchy and Churches during darker times have been the biggest and tallest buildings..beacons of power. Nowaday, people: business men, celebrities, success stories are the new kings and gods in the society of the self. Hence why private mansions and corporate headquarters are so tall and eye catching. S0 they can look odwn upon their subjects”
He leaned slightly back “I think you’re right in your assessment..but I”m a cop, what do I know?”He say with a light shrugh and playful smile
[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] “You’re a detective,” she chimes in, and she’s grinning at him from the top of her coffee cup, “you know a lot of things.”
A beat.
“Speaking of: what’s the most interesting thing you’ve found on a job site?”
[Derek Anderson] His eyes looked at her for a moment, searching for something maybe. He drank form his cup, the pause stretching slightly. “Even if I don’t work homicide, I don’t find interesting things most of the time.”
He tilt his head with a grin “Though I have to admit that we did had a kidnapping case that ended up being someone locked in his own basement. It was sad, but kinda funny as well”
[Joey Oliver] Joey Oliver doesn’t know that two Silver Fang kinfolk have made an arrangement to meet in this particular coffee shop on this particular day, at a time set several minutes ago. She doesn’t know Cordelia and she doesn’t know Derek, and quite frankly, she doesn’t care that she doesn’t know them. What she cares about is parking Cassius before she wraps him around a light pole. She cares about going inside somewhere warm and cozy and sitting, just sitting until she can feel her toes inside her old black work boots.
The door to the coffee shop opens, and those closest to the door sit a little straighter. Their backs stiffen and they don’t know what it is that puts them on edge, and they’re strangely unwilling to turn and look to see
an athletic young blond woman. Her face is obscured by the black wool cabbie hat she wears tugged low over her eyes, and there’s a scarf done in multiple shades of orange wrapped around her lower face. This gets tugged down soon enough, and her hands are brought up to her face, cupped so she can breath into them as she looks around the room, looks for
there. In the corner. A veritable clusterfuck of Silver Fang breeding she could almost feel before she even stepped inside. She watches the couple a moment, curious. Then, a shiver takes over her shoulders, seems to rattle that black hoodie she wears, and she steps up to the counter to order a hot chocolate.
[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] “Wait,” she says, and she looks at him as though he’s speaking some odd foreign language… because to her, he actually was speaking an odd foreign language, but we digress. She looks at him like he can’t possibly be serious… but he is. She blinks once, “he was locked… in his basement… did no one think to look in the house for him?”
She has to laugh at it. and she does. It’s a nice sound, which slows and she catches a look at the door. There’s an athletic young blonde woman walking through the door. Cordelia’s eyes follow her for a second. Joey watches the group. The group watches Joey. She waves, and it’s a wiggle of her fingers and a little smile.
The problem is, here, that she doesn’t know Joey. She doesn’t know Joey from Adam, as a matter for fact, but she figures that… maybe…
“… do you know her?”
[Derek Anderson] He had smiled at Cordelia’s laugh, showing white perfect teeth. “Go figure huh?” He then turn to look toward the entrance as he felt Joey’s presence before she actually saw her. He thought COrdelia knew her from the wave she had given her but when she asked if he knew her, his assessment changed
“No, I don’t. Then again, I don’t know many people here”
He offered a polite smile and nod to Joey. He didn’t know her tribe or her position, not that it mattered. He was well raised and you’re always polite ot a trueblood..at least in their face.
[Joey Oliver] One of them waves. The other smiles and nods. If they didn’t want a Rotagar planted at their table, these were not the things to have done to Joey. The girl’s wave is one thing, the look from the man is another thing entirely. He recognizes her, not herself, not Joey Oliver, she doesn’t know that guy and that guy doesn’t know her. But there’s a recognition, and, as if she hadn’t already been planning on striding over to say hello, she definitely intends to do so now.
She orders her drink and steps to the side. Unlike her Alpha, she doesn’t mind being out amongst the mortals. Her Rage is like a gentle yet angry push against them, giving her a tiny pocket of space, but she doesn’t let it bother her. She’s different from them, but she wasn’t always.
When the drink is made and set out for her, she takes it up and heads to the table in the corner.
“‘Sup,” she greets, and up close they can see a few freckles that haven’t been swallowed by the flush of her cheeks from the cold. They can see warm brown, slightly hang-dog eyes and, when she tugs at her scarf a little more, they can see the edge of scars. “Dude, it’s colder’n a witch’s cunt out there.” Setting her cup down, she holds out a hand first to Derek, then to Joey. If accepted, they’ll notice the arm warmers peeking out from beneath the cuff of her hoodie. Her grip is warm, firm and strong yet strangely gentle. Like she has to think about it, and be careful lest she accidentally snap the delicate bones of their hands. “Name’s Joey, an’ I fuckin’ hope neither’ve you’re Lost.”
[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] (brb, family needs!)
[Derek Anderson] He watched as Joey came closer. His smiled widdened slightly when she spoke ot them, kind blue eyes taking in the stranger with the colorful language. He took her hand on his big one, giving her a firm handshake. His skin was warm from being inside, hand not calloused nor soft. There was rougher skin inside his hand at the base of the fingers and his knuckled weren’t soft either.
“Pleased to meet you Joey, I”m Derek”He said in a deep,warm voice. “And no I”m not lost Ma’am”
He did look at Cordelia with a brow raised thoguh. It seem she was kin as well, something he hadn’t known about her..the world was small and there went another beautiful woman he probably would never date. Why were all the kin he met in this city looking like models and friendly to him? Then again, the truebloods he had met were beautiful and quite nice aswell. Might just be something about the city that attracted the friendly and beautiful
“And you’re right, it’s pretty cold outside. You get used to it though” He say with a smile and small shrugh
[Imogen Slaughter] Truly, no one pays attention to the goings out and in of the bathroom. The pair in an unfortunate booth by the door do not even bat an eye – their minds fill in the gaps and explain them away. They didn’t see them. They forgot, they weren’t paying attention.
That is if they even notice the two women exiting at all.
However, for those of the blood – it is a little stranger. After all, Imogen’s pure breeding. Kora’s rage. Two women (one woman, one monster) like this likely would not have walked through the cafe unnoticed.
Still – there they are, pushing out the door for the ladies’ washroom. Imogen has her coat on, one hand lifting the cuff as she absently brushes a blemish on the sleeve beneath, pausing to study it, before concluding the leave it be.
(Who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?)
The slight redhaired woman – kinfolk, bred, glances at the taller blonde. An eyebrow lifts. “Might as well ha’ something warm while we’re here.”
[Kora] There are subtle things off. Water spattered on Kora’s black boots, a darker place visible on the thigh of her dark jeans, just beneath the hem of the winter coat, flecked with pieces of brown paper towel from the good solid scrubbing it received. Her winter coat is half-buttoned, revealing a handful of layers beneath – a half-zipped hoodie over a gray t-shirt beneath that wool coat, a hand-knitted sweater patterned in the Fair Isle tradition trailing behind.
Still drying her hands – the scent of the pink soap is strong on her skin – the tall blond stops long enough to give the slight redhead a look mildly ironic, mildly incredulous. “That’s efficient, doc.”
Still, she doesn’t object. Glances up at the menu board, frowning at the insane array of drinks. Then looks back, lifting her chin toward a certain corner of the room. “You know Joey, right?” Back to the menu, the frown buckling her brow. “What are you having?” A pause. ” – wait, let me guess. Earl Gray, yeah?”
[Joey Oliver] “Ma’am,” says Joey, lets out a huff of laughter. It’s not so charming to the ears as Cordelia’s, it is not the tinkling of bells or any such beautiful nonsense as that, but nor is it a donkey’s bray. Say what you will of Joey, that she’s crude and vulgar and brash, at least she doesn’t laugh like an ass. She looks at Cordelia. “Listen to this guy, such manners.” She smiles, though, and the smile is genuine, full of perfect pearly whites.
“And I’ve been tryin’ for ages, man, you don’t even know.”
She might explain to him so that he does know, but the door to the bathroom opens, and out come two familiar figures, one seen more recently than the other. If they pass by close enough, Joey greets them both by name and just their names. Imogen, Kora. If not, she smiles in their direction.
“What were you guys talkin’ about?”
[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen is tidier than Kora, but her coat is closed despite the warmth of the coffee shop. Her hair is damp toward the temples, and more carefully arranged than usual, as if she had only just pulled it back with damp hands, and clipped it in place.
Most of these are pointless details. The brain ignores many incongruities. Kora remarks that Imogen’s technique is efficient. The doctor’s mouth twists and curls, “It’s downright British,” she replies. There had been tension before, not between them, but within the kinswoman, in the wake of it all. It is faded now that she is public. The facade firmly in place.
A flick of a glance toward the table Kora indicates. “We’ve met,” she says, mildly. “She was handin’ out rings fer the protection o’ -” a pause as someone passes them, “half-bloods, at one point.”
Earl Grey?
“What else,” this with dryness.
[Derek Anderson] He noticed the redhead and the blond when Joy looked at them, they were hard to miss, especially the redhead. He watched them for a moment before settling his eyes on Joy again “Just how I wasraised”He offer her a friendly smile. We were jsut talking about nothing and everything really. Nothing earth changing.”He shrugh
“Would you liek to join us?”He offer her, looking at an empty seat near them “Or you prefer joining your friends over there?” He say glanicng in the direction of Imogen and Kora
[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] “You’re going to have to tell me this story about the man locking himself in the basement… then again, there’s no cell phone reception there, so I can see where it would be hard to… wow,” she shakes her head and has to laugh at it.
Joey comes by, Joey swings by and Cordelia smiles, grins, and seems ever-too-pleasd to meet another person. John does get another look, and she seems confused and surprised for a second and her attention goes back to the group, “not lost… and he was telling me about a missing person who ended up just being locked in the basement.”
[John] It’s Bathroom Party Night here at the Something Something Cafe.
Perhaps a minute after a tall blond Skald emerges from the women’s bathroom with a heavily pureblooded kinswoman brushing at a spot on her sleeve… a heavily pureblooded kinswoman emerges from the same door with a tall brunet Modi wiping at his scruff-covered cheeks with the back of a hand.
Suffice to say, for the Fenrir in the room who are well aware of this particular male’s particular peculiarity, his silence is not a surprise. Once they’ve returned themselves to rights, he tugs the hem of his thermal to free it from where it was unfairly caught in the waistband of his jeans and looks around.
Oh, hey, Joey.
He lifts his chin in a nod that, brightly, says Sup!
[Kora] There’s a glance of acknowledgment for Joey; it’s distant, a bit restrained. A touch of eye contact across the coffee shop, mostly lost for those surrounding. The conversation between the two women is low; tension has left Imogen’s frame, she’s used to this façade. It lingers in subtle ways in Kora’s. Rage opens up other currents; spikes the blood with stress hormones, changes the subtle washing of neurotransmitters in the brain. So she’s brighter than she should be – that spark in her eyes – and sharper, but controlled.
A wash of half laughter in the wake of Imogen’s comment, then a flicker of a glance from Imogen to Joey, and back again. “When was that?” The rings for half-bloods. Kora’s voice is low; she glances up as John emerges from the bathroom, lifts a glance toward the menu as they edge toward the counter, offering him a drink.
Something about the way she moves, the way, rather, the half-buttoned coat moves, the tension in the line of the hoodie underneath – is awkward. She’s pregnant, late in the second, or early in the third trimester.
[Joey Oliver] “Hahawhat?” she asks, laughing, attention moving from one kinfolk to the other, incredulous and amused. “No windows to crawl through, or was he too fat to fit?”
More people, not just people, but people enter into the coffee shop, and not through the front door. Or maybe they did enter there originally, and somehow all wound up having a party in the women’s restroom. Joey doesn’t know, and she’s not entirely sure she’s sad she missed it. Here comes her brother with one a purebred kinswoman that Joey remembers very well, though the two women have rarely spoken.
She looks from John to Izzy and back again, with a smug smile on her face that clearly announces Yeah boy!
“Aw, I’m not stayin’ long, just ’til I can feel my fingers ‘n’ toes again, y’know?” As if to emphasize the statement, she looks down at those beat to hell boots of hers, picks one foot off the ground and sets it back down again.
[Izzy Montoya] It’s not the first time she’s exited a bathroom with a Fenrir. Or a ShadowLord. Or a.. well. Those that know her wouldn’t think anything of this – or think too much of it – when she exists behind a Fenrir. If they dared ask questions, she would lie. Or not. And they’d still not know for sure why she is exiting this particular bathroom, with this particular man. Despite the belief of some, she’s always been discreet, and keeps her secrets to herself.
Even if it involves her walking out of a bathroom no one seemed to remember her walking into.
She has her hands in her pockets, and dark eyes sweep the room, noting those she knows, especially when they are with those she doesn’t. Then she tips her head toward the counter in unknowing mimic of Kora, and asks John “Hungry?”
[Imogen Slaughter] “Somewhere ’round th’time a state o’ war was declared,” the kinswoman’s voice is low and even. John or Izzy, if they come closer can hear her.
“After one o’ yers was kidnapped.”
The line begins to dissipate, several who were planning on staying choosing to instead take their drinks to go.
[Derek Anderson] He smiled at Joey “Just very old and a little mixed up”He said about the man who had locked himself in his basement and was declared missing. He did nod at Joey when she said she wouldn’t stay for long “As you wish. There’saseat here if you ever cahnge your mind”
He did noticea woman coming out of the bathroom with a man and he fronwed. That was rather inappropriate. But no one seemed to have noticed too much or complained. So he guess it was fine, beside, he wasn’t worknig right now.
He finished his cappuccino and took a bite of what’s left of the brownies, looking at Cordelia “Want a refill?”He ask motioning to her drink
[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] “Yes please and thank you?” and she even throws a biiigi smile on top of that. Cordelia pushes up her glasses.
She then looks at Joey, and her expression is somewhere between grave and comical. She shakes her head vigorously, to the point that her glasses slip a little and her curls go flying.
“Es freezing,” and another moment, and she lights up, “those look so comfortable, where did you get them?”
[John] When he catches his packmate’s smile from across the room, the Modi’s blue eyes go wide with shock and the expression on his face transmits a humorously appalled What?! No! For some strange reason there appears to be a direct correlation with the amount of time John spends out on the streets, the phase of the moon and his Rage: a significant portion of humans can tolerate his presence, but for a select few, he is like being in a room with a serial killer. Maybe it’s his eyes, or the fact that he doesn’t talk, or a vague, niggling aura of otherness around him.
Humans have an uncanny sense for weirdness in their environment. They rarely pay any mind to it.
The Jarl offers him a drink, and he nods, visibly grateful; when Izzy asks him if he’s hungry, a nod would have sufficed, but his stomach issues not a manly roar of agreement but a muted grumble of emptiness, as though the mere thought of food has it perking to life. His nod this time is no less grateful, but his stomach has already answered for him; John cuts Izzy what might have been a smile if the muscles in his face had any indication of how to perform such an action in public, then briefly turns his attention back to what Kora and Imogen are discussing, heavy brow furrowed.
[Kora] “Do you still have it?” Kora asks, still low-voiced. “The ring?”
There’s a brief nod of acknowledgment of the timing. When the state o’ war was declared. “Matthew Oliver,” Kora supplies.
The gods only know where he is. Dead is the best that can be hoped for. Worse is likely, and for a moment a brief cast crosses Kora’s features, sour. A subtle twist moves across her mouth, and that lingers, but, no more than that. Then, they’re at the counter. Kora orders Imogen’s Earl Gray, and a chai for herself. Says: yes to whipped cream, and yes to whole milk, and requests one of those things pointing at a Asiago-Cheese-Pretzel that will not, under any circumstances, to any one with a normal palette go with chai.
“Sweet or not?” To John, mid-order, and then adds on another drink to the order. Black Coffee if he did not want something sweet. Hot chocolate if he did.
[Izzy Montoya] His stomach growls in reply, and her lips threaten to curve into a smile – though the closest they get to is an amused smirk. She listens to Imogen and Kora, and their topic of discussion, and waits a beat, or two.
Kora orders, and Izzy takes the moment to address Imogen. “I’ve a favor to ask, if your willing.”
Then, on the heels of Kora’s order, she’s pulling out her wallet from her inside coat pocket, and adds a couple sandwiches to the order for her and John. Her’s is a job where she has to eat when she can. Right now, she can. To Kora. “It’s on me, tonight.”
[Derek Anderson] He nodded and got up “All right” He look at Joey “Would you like something?”He ask her then, after he got his answer, he headed toward the counter and the Fenrir waiting fo their own drinks. If their rage bothers him, it doesn’t show on his good looking face.
He stand tall behind them, about 6’3″/6’4”, muscular in jeans, boots and long sleeve shirt. His kind blue eyes lookedat them all, trying not to stay too long on any of them, even if it might be hard. So instead of staring at anyone’s back, he look up, or down, or around, not in any hurry.
[Imogen Slaughter] First a shake of her head, “Gave it back,” she answers. Just then, John’s stomach growls and Imogen turns to glance at him over her shoulder, her gaze flicking briefly to Izzy, whom she had heard speak.
“Best feed him,” she advises.
Her phone chimes, once in her pocket, and Imogen’s hand reaches inside, pulling it free without looking at it. Izzy says she has a favour to ask, and Imogen is already stepping back. “Gi’ me a call about it tomorrow,” she says, a glance touching on Kora to include her in what she says next. “I ha’ to go. Pass on the tea, shall I?”
With that, she is stepping away and turning to leave. She will nod in Joey’s direction as she goes, should the Rotagar catch her eye.
(sorry folks, gotta get to bed!)
[Joey Oliver] “Thanks,” she says, in response to the offer of a seat. It sounds like he’s offering her the seat near him for all time, always and forever. Only time will tell if the Rotagar will take him up on it again at any point in the future.
For now she is content to stand at the table, rudely making the kinfolk look up at her as she shifts her weight from side to side, restless. Derek rises, verifying what Joey already suspected. That he’s another of Chicago’s clan of goddamn giants. There was a time when being 5’8″ made Joey tall. Not here, not in this place, at least not often. Tipping her head up, he can see a bit more of the scarring at her throat, but not enough to tell the severity of it.
“Nah, thanks, still got this,” she says, lifting her drink again for a sip. When he’s gone, her attention is focused on the kinswoman. “Uh, I dunno, my mom sent ’em to me, long time ago. They’re warm, though.”
Holding out the arm with the drink, she tugs up the sleeve of her hoodie, revealing to Cordelia a black arm warmer in a purple and grey argyle pattern. It doesn’t match the scarf. Joey doesn’t appear to care. “I can ask her next time I talk to ‘er if y’want.”
[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] It is at that moment, where she’s revealing the argyle and grey arm warmer, that Cordelia instantly and irrevocably, fell in love with Joey Oliver. It wasn’t her eyes, though they were pretty, and it wasn’t her blonde hair or her different demeanor, it was her arm warmers. The princess melts, and she grins ear to ear.
“Oh! I’m Cordelia” Cor-deh-lia, “es nice to meet you Joey.”
Joey. Pronounced more like Cho-ey. The J sound isn’t kind to her, not at all.
“My mother refuses to visit because it’s cold-” and being in Spain doesn’t hurt “-please tell me it gets better.”
[John] Sweet or not?
John holds up one large hand in a thumb’s down, eyes flicking between Kora and the minimum wage slave behind the counter. It takes a special breed of human to work in retail beyond the holiday season; whoever is back there doesn’t quaver from him, exactly, but it’s abundantly obvious to anyone with eyes that the tall young man–not quite so tall as the other muscular blue-eyed presence in the place, but to Joey that is likely minor consolation–is neither uncomfortable in humans’ presence nor entirely certain how to behave. He simply exists, like a bird that has somehow flown into a store through the pneumatic door and isn’t in a major rush to escape.
Imogen mentions feeding him, and he scoffs, lightly, yet lacks the capacity to quip back that he isn’t a canine or a houseplant. Given the way he dresses, the general Mountain Man look he either seems to be going for or doesn’t know how to deviate from, it’s entirely possible he’s still trying to figure out how to procure food in this city without the green paper humans shuffle around constantly. He’s doing a lot of scrounging and pride-swallowing, lately.
When the slight kinswoman makes her escape, John waves, the motion restrained, and looks around the room again. Carefully, he taps Izzy on the upper arm, as though this is somehow preferable to her shoulder; once her attention has been captured, he gestures across the room to the Silver Fangs and makes a questioning face. He wants to know if she knows them, as if all the Kinfolk in the city know all the other Kinfolk in the city.
[Kora] “You shall,” says Kora, a side glance at Imogen as she demures on the hot tea, then a lifting movement back toward John as she considers whether or not she can pawn off a pot of Earl Gray in the Modi. And decides against it, shifting forward at the counter, still looking over her shoulder. “Be safe, Doc, yeah?”
“Nix the Earl Gray. Just the chai and a black coffee -” a gesture toward the kinswoman and modi behind her. “She’s paying.” And then Kora reaches to pick up the pretzel, steps aside to await her drink, making room for Izzy and John to order whatever else they’d like. She watches Derek as the tall man walks through the room, a level look, dark eyed and direct, unwavering – from this strange woman in sturdy, inexpensive clothing, pale haired and pale skinned, six months pregnant, blood spatter from a kill artfully daubed from her jeans, otherwise hidden underneath her coat, picking at a pretzel as if she had not just –
Well, and when Izzy glance her way, Kora lifts her pretzel in a vague toast, acknowledgment of her offer to pay, and thanks, all in one.
[Imogen Slaughter] (thanks for the RP all!)
[Derek Anderson] He looked at Kora as he stopped nearby, offering her a smile and a nod “Ma’am”He wait until they all got their order before getting a refill for Cordelia and one for himself. His eyes followed Imogen as she left then as he looked forward, he notice John looking at him. He wasn’t sure who was trueblood or kin in that group, the rage spilling all over, so he simply nodded to the other man with a polite smile.
[Izzy Montoya] Call her tomorrow. Izzy nods. “Will do. G’night.”
Kora lifts her pretzel in thanks, and Izzy simply nods. There are few Fenrir that she has grown to respect. Kora is one of them, and by virtue of that, the rest of her pack. She shows it in small ways. Picking up a tab. Showing up at the church more in the past month then she has to any in years. Actually reporting in, despite the pregnant Jarl’s desire for Imogen and John to procreate.
Neither here nor there. She pays the tab, tucks the wallet into her coat, and steps aside to wait with kora for their order to be made.
John touches her arm, a strangely intimate gesture to see for those who know Izzy, as she is not prone to physical contact at all outside of closed doors, unless it is necessary. She doesn’t seem to mind it here – mainly because it is necessary, because she expects it. Wordless question crosses his face, and she answers with a shake of her head.
“No. Should I?” Even though the answer is obvious, purely for his asking.
[Joey Oliver] Joey’s smile turns rueful at that. “Oh yeah, it’ll get better. In like, June or somethin’.” That’s when the heat and the humidity will bring the temperatures close to what they were like back home. It’ll be stifling and unbearable. It’ll be fantastic.
She notices the way Cordelia, Cordehlia, speaks, with an accent that she would maybe place as heard on the Spanish channels they get at the warehouse. Of course, her mind goes to Mexico, not to Spain, which clashes in her mind with the breeding.
Falcon’s children, kings, in Mexico? Drug lords, maybe. Maybe Cordelia’s…Joey looks the pretty blond with the glasses over…related to a drug lord.
“Winter here sucks, but the guy’s right, y’get used to it, sorta. People get by, anyway.”
[Izzy Montoya] (Ahem. EDIT: IZZY AND JOHN. JOHN THORNTON. TO PROCREATE. omg. *cracking up)
[Kora] (KORA HAD LINUS REPLACE IZZY’S BIRTH CONTROL PILLS WITH SMARTIES. FYI.)
[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] [I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN WHEN THEY TASTED FRUITY]
[John] [THE SURGEON GENERAL SAYS MIXING SMARTIES WITH TOBACCO CAUSES DIABETES LINUS HOW COULD YOU]
[Izzy Montoya] [Pills? what pills?! :) ]
[Tabitha Reese] “I know, Tal. But jesus christ, did you see how much it was? I can buy three sweaters for that, and we can still have enough to eat for a couple days.” There’s a high end boutique bag in her hand, which looks completely out of place with her.
[Derek Anderson] He pay for the refills, nodding at the clerk, then turning to go back and join Cordelia and Joey “Evening all” He say to Kora, Johnand Izzy, in a deep warm voice “If you feel like it, you can join us”He say indicating where Joey is standing, talking with COrdelia. His tone is very polite as he didn’t want to assume that Truebloods would liek ot join kins at their table, though they would join one their friends or acquintance as well. “If not, then have all a good night”
He nodded to them. A friendly offer never hurt right? That is, unless a Fenrir took offense, or so the rumors go. Not that he has any idea that these particular Garou are Fenrir. If he had known, he might ont have risk it.
[Tala Whitedeer] “So? It’s nice. I don’t want to take it back.” She looks sullen, following Tabitha.
[Tabitha Reese] “Yes. It’s nice. It’s three hundred and fifty dollars nice.” She sighs, slowing and reaching back to let Tala catch up. “It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just a lot of money, Tal.”
[Tala Whitedeer] “So?”
[John] Should she?
John’s face shrugs where his shoulders normally would, the expression gamely uncertain, but he doesn’t pull loose a writing implement or piece of paper to attempt to explain why it was he was asking in the first place. Given the Full Moons’ stereotypical stoicism, hardly illustrated by the current sample populace’s propensity for talking at length and in such ranting fervor that many of them can be easily mistaken for Gibbous Moons, perhaps this one’s lack of drive to make himself understood is fitting. It seems as though even if he could talk, he wouldn’t choose to do so excessively.
The kinsman walks up to them about the time it’s being determined that their identities are unknown. A coffee is pushed across the counter, and John gives Izzy another of those almost-smiles before looking back to the newcomer. Steam rising from the surface of the cup warns him not to bolt it back. His eyes flick to find his packmate and Beta, and at the offer of joining them, John glances at the other two females. Not one to let others make decisions for him, apparently, or else exercising that spine of his, John bobs his head in a nod. Even without gesticulating, it comes across as a Yeah, okay.
[Tabitha Reese] She sighs. “Okay. I won’t take it back if you don’t want me to.”
[Tala Whitedeer] “No, you want to. Fine. I’m not taking MINE back.”
[Tabitha Reese] “I never said you had to.”
[Tala Whitedeer] “Yeah, well, you’re trying to make me feel guilty.” She pulls the sweater tighter around herself.
[Kora] Kora’s tall, tall enough that she need look up only fractionally to meet the kinsman’s gaze. Her eyes are direct, clear and dark – the color is indiscernible in the shadows – a wide mouth the primary softness in otherwise sharp features, the slanting jaw, the moving curve of her mouth. Pale northern skin, pale northern hair, lent a certain fullness, a certain glow, a certain presence by pregnancy. It’s an animal thing: that lustre. She’s breeding. She’s healthy. She’s alive.
The barista is rather more afraid of the silent John than she is of the watchful Kora. She skitters away from the counter, fidgets making the drinks, spills half of the first coffee and mutters a curse beneath her breath. It’s the worst hour of her night. Kora pulls a flat, folding something from the hip pocket of her jeans and digs out a five dollar bill from its pages. Stuffs that into the tip jar as she reaches for her chai and then turns to navigate an ambling passage through the coffee shop in Derek’s wake.
“Joey,” a greeting, then, “Cordelia.” Then, a dark-eyed glance at Derek. “You two – ” a gesture from Derek to Cordelia. “Directly related, or – distantly?” Then, almost belated. “I’m Kora, by the way. Thanks for the invite, though I can’t stay long.”
[Tabitha Reese] She sighs again. “Come on. I’ll keep it, okay? Where did you get the money for it anyway?” Motioning her along, she moves to enter the coffee shop and make the poor barista’s night even worse.
[Tala Whitedeer] She follows Tabitha inside. “I told you. The Kin paid for it.”
[Izzy Montoya] Derek invites them to join them, and Izzy waits for the others to answer, without letting her preference show in her face. Either one that is decided, she will go with, for the time being. The transfer has her off kilter, a little [..lot…] out of sorts, and willing to spend time with Tribe, in order to have something familiar close by. It’s likely a phase. It’ll pass.
For now, though, she follows in John and Kora’s wake, but only after the barista manages to get their order together. She gets the sandwiches and coffee on a tray, and makes her way to join the others. She sets the sandwiches and coffees down on a nearby table, and goes about unbuttoning her coat. She nods to the others, to Joey in greeting, then slips off her coat, and hangs it over the back of a chair. There’s the dull gleam at the small of her back as the lights catch the handle of her weapon holstered there, just before she sits and smooths her slacks over her thighs. A reach to touch John’s arm – much as he did hers – shows him that his food is there, before she goes about rolling up the sleeves to her blouse.
Other than that, she remains quiet. Watchful.
[Derek Anderson] As he was heading to the table with Kora, John and Izzy, he noticed Tabitha entering with Tala. He offered the Black Fury a smile and nod, and guessed he will know tonight if his text to her will get him punched. He nodded politly to Tala.
When they stopped at the table, what Joey said earlier was confirmed by Kora acknowledging Cordy by name and hten her question about being related “Well to be honest, I had no idea were were until Joey said something earlier. So we’re distantly related it seem” He say tilting his head at Cordy with a would you bleieve that, expression. The world was small..or the city at least
“Well Cordy, guess we jsut learned something about each other” He grinned then offered his hand to Kora, then John and Izzy “I’m Derek, pleased to meet you”
[Tabitha Reese] She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you did that. They’re going to be up our asses about it, you know. What do you want?” Her eyes dart around as soon as they’re through the door, and she moves so that her back is against the wall while waiting for the counter to clear.
[Tala Whitedeer] “I don’t know. Coffee? She offered. Kind of.”
[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] She laughs a little. At that moment, she looks like she might say something, but her phone rings. The female blanches and scoot out of her side of the bench.
“I’m so sorry I have to go take this,” she tells Derek.
[Tabitha Reese] “Kind of HOW?” Derek gets a nod, and she moves to order once it’s clear. “Large drip and a medium Americano.”
The barista’s anxiety level should just about qualify her for disability insurance, with all of the Trueborn that are gathered in the space.
[Tala Whitedeer] “She was holding the stuff when we went up to the counter.”
[Hunter Matthews] A bristling of Rage and a stirring of wind is what announces the entrance of Defiance’s Alpha. He doesn’t head for the counter but the table in the back where a gathering begins. He looks like he knows exactly where he is going, like he knew where he was going before he even entered the establishment. The Uktena and the Black Fury get side stepped and he half turns over his shoulder as he travels past them.
Eyes find Joey, John, Kora, Izzy. They settle on Cordelia and he blinks.
“Hey guys.”
[Hunter Matthews] [UGh should be something abou Turns over his shoulder and smiles with a nod of some sort you know actually acknowledging them not just staring at them like a weirdo]
[Joey Oliver] “Kora,” she greets brightly. “Izzy.” She steps aside to make room for Derek to reclaim his seat should he so desire. The kinfolk that came here for a simple drink and a chat find themselves surrounded by more of the Nation. It could be the breeding that calls them all together, or some other happy coincidence. Happy for them.
Not so happy for the humans that happened to be near to this particular corner. The weak-willed nearby find excuses to get up and leave, or at least move to other locations, closer to the door perhaps. Closer to a means of escape. Cordelia rises and moves in that direction, as well, far enough that she can take her phone call in peace.
“‘Sup, cap’n,” she greets Hunter.
[Derek Anderson] He frowned at Cordy’s expression “Are you ok?” He ask with concern in his voice. Kin of the same tribe or not, friends or not, he was worried about her. She was a really nice girl and her face spoke of trouble right now. Still he let her go take her call.
He nodded as Hunter come closer, knowing him slightly because Starla gave him the Garou’s name yesterday. He tilt his head at Izzy “Ok, coincidences are rare but hey, it could be…are you detective Montoya?” It would be incredbly funny if she was. He didn’t have to look for her to meet her “If you do, Starla told me about you, as we’re both detectives” He tell her with a friendly smile
[Tabitha Reese] She nods at Hunter as he passes, waiting for the coffees and motioning Tala along as she heads back toward Derek and his assembled.
[John] The touch to his arm doesn’t have the male flinching or jerking away from it; he turns his head, curious, and then sees the sandwich-bearing plate has been set down for him. This time she gets what actually appears to be a smile from a Fenrir Modi, ladies and gentlemen: it doesn’t show teeth, but it crinkles the corners of his eyes and seems about as genuine as one could expect, given that it also looks as though the muscles in his face are going to creak and groan from misuse. He frowns more than he smiles but the bastard doesn’t exactly have to worry about degeneration of collagens any time soon.
He does not sit, but rather remains on his feet, boots planted just under shoulder-width apart as he starts eating. Though he doesn’t verbally introduce himself, when Derek holds out his hand to make his introductions mid-chew the heavier man doesn’t eye him with suspicion or mistrust. Neither does he supply a name. He dusts the crumbs off his hand on the seat of his jeans a few times, then clamps his hand on the kinsman’s wrist instead of slapping it into his palm. It’s too tight, at first; then he realizes who it is he’s dealing with and loosens up, pulling a quick Sorry man face and returning to his dinner.
Eyes flick to the two dark-haired females as they move through the coffee house.
[OH MY GOD YOU PEOPLE TYPE SO FAST]
[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] She’s digging through her purse to get the ringing phone, and she has it out- Hunter notices that she’s carrying a little POS phone at the current instead of her normal phone. She looks at him. He blinks. She blinks. She even smiles a little.
It rings a little longer, and she looks down at the phone. She winces and her look becomes apologetic. She looks back at Hunter, “international call.”
When she takes a few more steps towards the womens room and erupts into Spanish. Very… very… fast Spanish.
[Tala Whitedeer] She follows Tabi, looking uncomfortable suddenly.
[Kora] “You just bumped into each other?” The lilt of question at the end has a clear note of disbelief. “That’s almost too good to be true, you know?” Her remark is quiet, and her dark eyes linger on Derek with a new, darker interest. As if she could pull down whatever mask he might be wearing, revealing the bones of the thing underneath.
But he’s not her blood; they are in a full (emptying) café. As Cordelia rises, phone in hand, Kora stands too. Murmurs, “Best double-check with Katherine,” to the kinswoman before she slips away. About Derek, she means.
“Hunter,” a quiet greeting, our heroine standing now, mug and pretzel in hand, the latter nearly gone, the former barely touched. “Excuse me,” she says, not offering further excuses. She needs to get the clothes home before the blood sets. She wants to see her mate before sunrise. She has a sudden craving for Bacon Double Cheeseburger Pringles. “Good night all.”
[Kora] (must sleep!)
[Izzy Montoya] She lifts her coffee and takes a swallow entirely too large for how hot the coffee is, though she doesn’t make much more than a grimace. Years of drinking crap cop coffee have likely burnt her taste buds off more than once.
Derek offers his hand, and a question. She reaches out to shake his hand – not a whimpy girly shake, nor is it a show of strength. Firm, confident, if handshakes were to be believed. “Yes, I’m Detective Montoya.” She says nothing about the girl who gave him her name, nor does she offer any reaction to them both being detectives. Time will tell on that score, in her mind.
John all but smiles his thanks for the sandwich, and her lips twitch in response. Apparently, a silent Fenrir is something she can get used too.
Kora makes her exit, and Izzy nods her direction, before digging into her sandwich, while keeping an eye on everyone around them.
[Tabitha Reese] “Derek.” She glances over the others, moving to stand with her ack against the wall again. Gloves cover her hands, so she has them out of her pockets now.
[Tala Whitedeer] “I don’t know these people.” She doesn’t lower her voice, frowning deeply.
[Tabitha Reese] She lowers her voice, leaning nearer to Tala “You know Derek. Remember? He’s the cop…”
[Derek Anderson] He watched Kora leave with a tilt of his headand frowned at the semi warning she gave Cordy. He shook his head. He had nothing ot hide and had made steps to meet with Katherine himself. He noticed Cordy’s reaction to Hunter as she left toward the bathroom. Yeah, he had a feeling jsut friends with Cordy will be it. It was fine, he had expected it, as he expect it will be with any kin he meet. After all, being with another kin is always a dangerous thing after all.
He didn’t take offesne at John’s lack of answer, the man had oferred a polite smile, a slighty too hard handshake then an apology, it was enough for him. He msiled to Izzy “Well pleased to meet you. I told Starla I’d look you up. It’s done”He say with a shrugh. If they had more ot talk about, it will eventually happen.
He offer a warm firendly smiel ot Tabitha, noticing her gloved hands “Hello Tabitha, how are you tonight?”He nodded to Tala “Hello Tala”
[Tala Whitedeer] “Oh. You.” She looks Derek over. “Hello.”
[Joey Oliver] Joey’s brows lift at the newcomer, surprised by the tone. “What’s that about?”
[Tala Whitedeer] She looks over at Joey. “Huh? I was talking to Tabitha.” She looks confused.
[Izzy Montoya] She doesn’t echo that she’s pleased to meet Derek. He told Starla he’d look her up. She barely flicks a brow upwards.
A hard nut to crack, Izzy. on a good day. These days haven’t been good. She peels apart her sandwich, and plucks off the tomatoes and sets them aside, before replacing the top and taking a bite. She occupies herself with the meager meal, while remaining watchful, quiet.
Then, seemingly out of the blue. “What precinct?” To Derek, obviously.
[Joey Oliver] “You were sayin’ hello to the girl you walked in with, while lookin’ at the giant?” she asks, head back. “Interesting.”
She turns away from them then, socks Hunter in the shoulder. “You want somethin’ to drink?”
[Tabitha Reese] She gives Derek a look, as if somehow Joey’s attitude toward her packmate is his fault.
[John] The Modi watches the exchange between the female Garou with an inscrutable amount of interest, eating his sandwich slowly but with some gusto. He takes large bites and chews thoroughly, his eyebrows lifting in time with his Beta’s. When Joey questions the Uktena, they return to their baseline state of elevation. Properly introducing himself doesn’t seem to be high on his list of priorities tonight, but neither does he seem to be relying on anyone else to accomplish the task, either.
When Tabitha cuts the other male a Look, John briefly stops chewing.
[Hunter Matthews] His eyes were not at all on the conversation around them nor on the comings and goings of the participants. He barely mumbled a goodbye to Kora because he was still standing with eyes narrowed in the direction Cordelia had disappeared; he gets a smack in the arm for his troubles.
“Hmm?”
Eyes to her, “Oh, ya’, I dunno what I want though. These places got way too many fuckin’ choices.”
[John] [Guys, I love you dearly, but I’m having a lot of trouble keeping up. Would it be easier for me to bail, or can we try and only have one post from each person per “round”?]
[Cordelia Sarafin-Diego] [peace out, lovelies! I have to get to bed. See thee anon! I had a blast!]
[Tabitha Reese] (I can slow down, if you want)
[Joey Oliver] [night mindy! and i’m cool with one post per round if that’ll make things easier]
[Tala Whitedeer] She looks confused again. “Oh. No. That’s erek.”
[Derek Anderson] He look at Izzy “The 18th.” He doesn’t add East Chicaog. She would know. “I arrived last week, transferred form Pittsburgh”Just in case she wanted to do a background check, it would make it easier for her.
“Joey, the giant has a name..Derek” He say with a grin. “And Tala was just saying hi. At least she said hi, she’s pretty quiet, well last time I saw her she wa” He smiled to Tala then look at Tabitha with a what? look, then tilt his head at her “So how have oyu been Tabitha?”
[Joey Oliver] [I solemnly swear I am up to no good: supterfuge!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Tabitha Reese] “I got your text.” Her gaze stays on Derek, nearly unblinking.
[Joey Oliver] Derek assures her that the giant has a name, Joey shrugs. It hadn’t escaped her notice, it’s just one of those things. Like her calling Hatchet boss and Hunter cap’n. Or, once upon a time, an Ahroun PlasmaCluster. She nods to the Fang, though, an upward lift of her head that should read as Got it.
John isn’t the only one looking at their Alpha with some measure of concern. Joey asks him if he wants something to drink, and he does. He just doesn’t know what.
Joey’s smile spreads slow and warm, like the sun rising over the lake. It’s the kind of smile that should be a warning to her brothers, to Hunter. It’s the kind of smile that means no good will come of that request.
“Nah,” she says, seemingly from nowhere, “but I got just the thing.”
The Rotagar turns on her heel, and heads for the counter to make a special order.
[Tala Whitedeer] She looks over at Tabitha. “Texts?”
[Izzy Montoya] She nods, slightly. Not her department, then. He doesn’t ask in return, though she offers. Professional courtesy. “25th – though currently reassigned to cover 13th’s ass for a while.”
She smirks, and takes another bite, and falls quiet again.
[Hunter Matthews] Joey has just the thing.
This is almost never a good reaction from the Rotagar; this usually means that something horrible and embarrassing is about to happen to her Alpha.
“Jojo..” His voice trails away at her back, warningly. Maybe he’s just paranoid, but Paranoia is what you get being the Alpha of the Ragabash Elder.
Eyes find John, Hunter looks worried.
“How’s ya’ sammy?”
[John] Catching the intensity in the way the Fury is staring at the kinsman, the mute Modi can’t help but laugh. Or, rather, snort, which is the closest he ever truly comes to laughing, especially when he’s in the midst of eating, but it’s clear from anyone paying attention to him that something about the exchange is amusing.
He’s yanked back from the role of onlooker by his Alpha’s question. A half a sandwich remains on his plate, and after polishing off the half he had been mowing through, John picks up the plate and offers it to him, eyebrows lifted, as if to ask if he’s hungry, or he wants it. That worried expression appears lost on the Modi, or else he’s just choosing to ignore it for whatever reason.
Recent history has firmly cemented the notion that John isn’t the most empathetic of creatures.
[Derek Anderson] When Joey acknowledge his comment, he did offer a smile. He hadn’t been insulted. But he was a little ticklish when it came to Garou and their acknowledgment of him. He didn’t want to be just a kin, or Silver Fang, or even a cop. He wanted them to know and acknowledge who he was all that and more..Derek Anderson.
He smiled at Tabitha, it wasn’t cocky or anything. He knew the short text had been daring to send, but also he thought Tabitha needed some kind of levity in her existence “Good, it means you have my number now” He grinned slightly “I didn’t mean anything by it you know. Just thought it would make you crack a little smile or something.”
He listend to Izzy “Really? How do you like it over there?” He ask her with interest.
[Tabitha Reese] She blinks at Derek as if the concept of cracking a smile is completely foreign to her. After a few more seconds her eyes finally slip from him, and focus on Tala again. “He sent me a text so that we have his number.”
[Tala Whitedeer] “Let me see.” She holds out her hand expectantly.
[Izzy Montoya] Over there. “Which one? 13 has their head stuck up their ass, and someone broke my fuckin’ coffee cup.” a beat. “We have our own way at 25.” Clearly, a way that 13 doesn’t cotton too. Though, if Derek were to look into it, he’d find that 13 has the best closure rate of the city, and lowering crimerates. Unlike her own department – though a closer look to her own, would find Izzy has the highest closure and conviction rate of her department.
She’s something of a legend, really. Despite what they say about her.
[Joey Oliver] Joey presses her palms flat to the counter and leans in to talk to the harried barista in hushed tones. She even lifts her hand to hide the movement of her mouth, in case either of her bonded packmates happens to look over.
By now, Hunter has to be wondering what it’s going to be. Did Joey just order him up something with sprinkles and hearts in honor of Valentine’s Day? Or did she request tobasco sauce to season a perfectly ordinary cup of coffee.
He has to wait and see.
When the drink is ready, it’s in a to-go cup with a lid, hiding the contents from view. Joey thanks the girl, pays her well over the amount of the beverage (either that or Joey ordered the most expensive thing on the menu and didn’t leave a tip) and carries the cup back to the table.
“This’ll make ya feel better,” she says, holding it out to Hunter almost reverently. When it’s left her grasp she hooks her thumbs into the belt loops of her jeans, smiles, and waits.
[Tabitha Reese] “I think I erased it.” She hands over her phone though, finally turning her attention to the others. Each of them are stared at with the same unblinking gaze, as if she’s sizing them up in turn.
[Hunter Matthews] A shake of his head to the offering of the sandwich. If there’s anything he learnt about leading from Baxter it’s that a leader never puts himself in a position where he can take from those that he leads, even if it is small, even if it has no meaning. The food is left for the Modi and his head turns over his shoulder to spy on what Joey is up to.
He seems unusually awkward, perhaps it is the blonde kinswoman who disappeared moments ago or perhaps it is something more. There is a restlessness to him, a fidgeting beneath the skin despite the fact that his body remains more or less motionless. The conversations going on around him are so mundane, so every day that they have him feeling like he’s watching some strange soap opera, like this isn’t the real life at all.
The Beta Rotagar begins to stroll back over to them with that confident gait powered by her stocky athletic form and his hand receives the cup despite his earlier denial of the sandwich. This was made for him, this was not for Joey, he doesn’t take from her. The drink is raised to lips which part to allow the unknown liquid within.
He tastes chocolate, he tastes cream, he tastes syrup and his skeptical expression turns into a warm smile.
“Thanks sis.”
[Tala Whitedeer] She struggles to find the messages. She almost certainly deletes things that shouldn’t have been deleted. The Uktena squints as she studies the phone intently, as if trying to divine some deeper meaning. After a moment, she looks up at Tabitha. “How do I…?”
[John] Alright, his nod says, when the sandwich is declined. Sliding it back onto his appropriated portion of tabletop, John looks back up to see that Pegasus’s warrior is staring amongst the lot of them. When she gets to the taller of the two Trueborn males, she’ll see he’s looking back at her, cautious rather than purposefully antagonistic, yet there’s the sense that he’s waiting to see if she’ll look away first. His own gaze is hardly unblinking, but his eyelids flicker closed as a matter of physiological need rather than an indication of fear or submission.
[Derek Anderson] He glaced at Tabitha with a slight smile. Yeah, he’ll have to work hard to get her to smile, but in time, it might happen. “We should meet tomorrow, I have something for you” He tell her before looking at Izzy “I see. How long do you expect to be over at 13th?” He say keeping his attention on her and Tabitha, though when one or the other spoke, he did look only at her. He could multi task sure, but one thing he try to always do, is always look at those talking to him.
[Tabitha Reese] Her head tilts when she reaches the quiet man and finds him watching her back. Her head tilts, hand held out for the phone while she continues to stare. Several seconds pass after he blinks before she does, head canted the other way then.
“What do you have for me?” Finally, her gaze moves to Hunter as she speaks to Derek, looking him over before her attention moves to her phone and she scowls deeply.
“What the hell did you do, Tal?”
[Izzy Montoya] “It’s already been too long.” It’s said with a smirk, followed by a slight shrug. She doesn’t know. It was supposed to be a week. Now it’s a month. All she knows for sure is that it had better not be permanent.
Which leads to her phone going off. She grabs it, and flicks through to the message, before shoving it away again. She shoves the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth as she stands. She moves with efficiency, an innate grace, as she slings her coat back on and settles it across her shoulders. She grabs her coffee, and then reaches to touch John’s arm.
“Got a call – you have a ride?” not that he needs one – but it’s only polite since she was his ride here.
[..insert orgy in the bathroom jokes here..]
[Tala Whitedeer] “I don’t know.” She looks slightly distressed.
[Joey Oliver] Joey grins up at Hunter, pleased. There’s not a lot she can do when Hunter gets into these weird moods of his, and he’s been going into them more and more of late. He worries too much, there’s nothing anyone can do about that, really. But Joey can try. Mostly she tries by physical activity, such as yet another sock to the shoulder. There’s a solid pat against the fabric of Hunter’s jacket; she hits him with enough force to knock weaker person back.
For the Fenrir and the Gnawer, it’s a love tap really.
She holds up well under the scrutiny of the Black Fury. When the gift of hot chocolate has been handed over, that look is finally returned. There’s no challenge to it, only curiosity.
“What’s the problem?” she asks the two girls arguing over a phone.
[Tabitha Reese] “I told you it was probably gone.” Now that she’s paying more attention, she sees a selection of one and two letter texts to various people, as well as conspicuously missing texts that had been there before. Shaking her head, she locks her phone and puts it back in her pocket before looking at Joey.
“There’s no problem.”
[John] Does he have a ride.
John turns towards her even before that hand finds his arm beneath the bulk of his jacket, looking down at her after the Fury has turned her attention back towards the matter of the cell phone. There is another flicker of an almost-smile when she shows some consideration for the fact that it’s cold and he is a bit of a ways from home; his pack is here, though, and he indicates his roughhousing Alpha and Beta with a slow tilt of his head.
Never having learned how to speak in the first place, John doesn’t mouth what it is he wants to get across to her. He briefly rests a hand on the much smaller woman’s shoulder, firm yet not controlling, as his eyes find a similar perch on her own; then he waves. It could be dismissive in anyone else, yet the attention he gives to it makes it clear enough he’s making do with what he has available to him.
[Derek Anderson] He nodded to Izzy “Well have a good night Detective” He then turned ot look at Tabitha again “It’s related to what we spoke about last time. We can take the time to discuss it tomorrow, over lunch or something, if you want. I’ll have all the details then” He say with a smile to her.
He looked slightly around, offering a smile to Joey as she was back then nodding ot Hunter “Hello, my name’s Derek Sir”He say offering his hand “And from what I”ve been told, your name is Hunter right?” He say with a polite smile and not looking Hunter in the eyes
[Izzy Montoya] There’s a flicker of a smile from the Modi, and Izzy arches a brow, slightly. Twice in one night. It just might be a record – and the corner of her lips tug upwards in reply. She doesn’t flinch away from his touch, and she most certainly doesn’t flinch away from his gaze. She meets his eyes head on, without hesitation, without thought to look away. It’s gotten her in trouble before. She does it anyway.
It’s a goodbye, and she winks at him in return, before grabbing her coffee, and thumbing a number on her phone as she turns. Derek is given a nod, and then she’s on her way to the door.
“Montoya.” It’s snapped into the phone – and the last thing heard before the door closes behind her.
[thanks for the play! 5am comes way early, it’s bedtime for Lessa’s everywhere!]
[Tala Whitedeer] “I thought it was still there.” Her distress is steadily growing.
[Joey Oliver] Izzy makes good her escape, Joey offers up a smile and a wave.
Derek gets a smile in return, but she doesn’t try to jump in on the multi-way conversation he seems to be holding with the collected Garou. Her eyes find John’s, and her brows lift in question. She nods her head toward the door.
[night lessa!]