[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] The Brotherhood is closed.
It’s 3:20 in the morning, and the kitchen is quiet, the stove cold. There are leftovers of the night’s stews and soups in the large industrial fridges, as well as fruit, juice, milk. There are cuts of fresh meat too, bright red and ready for the next day’s cooking.
Lukas has pilfered some lamb loin chops from the fridge. He’s not as accomplished a cook as the Brotherhood’s staff, but he knows enough to put rosemary, salt, pepper and thyme on lamb. He grills the chops himself, and heats up a side of coarse-cut red potatoes on the side, and then fishes a bottle of red out of the wine cooler.
Now he’s sitting out in the dining room, which is almost empty. The bakery counter is quiet. The tables are cleaned up, the seats flipped up on the tabletops. The fire in the mantle was down to embers before Lukas throws on another two logs, turns up the gas flames until they catch, and then sits down to have quiet late dinner in one of the two wingback chairs.
[Marcus Schwarzkopf] *Marcus was up early, and he was shuffling to the bathroom. He yawned, scratched his stomach as he made his way to a stall to… well empty his bladder. Stall flushed, hands washed he was walking out into the common area to take a look outside the window.
He was dressed in old camouflage trousers that had been cut off at the knee, and sewn up to make cargo shorts. A white t-shirt covered his torso, and black flip flops, shower shoes on his feet.
Another stretch and then an audible growl from his stomach. He rubbed his eyes, and then headed down the stairs in the dining area. He stopped when he saw Lukas. Covered a yawn with his hand and then gave a wave to him.* “Hey. I’m about to do the same thing.” *He headed into the kitchen to make himself a sandwich.*
[Dasha Dmitriev] She had been told that the back door always stayed unlocked.
Dahsa had decided that she might want to actually give this Brotherhood place a try, and it couldn’t be any worse than the various other places she had been residing. She had been here once before, enoguh time to tell the owners that she might be staying here but had yet to decide on a room. Dasha had been at the caern earlier today. It had been her winding down time, only to be wound up again through battle.
She’s gone through half a pack of cigarettes today, and she only had a carton left. The Shadow Lord was either going to need to get a job or a sugar daddy pretty damned quickly.
BUt whatever it was, whatever allure this place had, who cared. Dasha was staying the night at the brotherhood tonight, and she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. So, she came in-
and her stomach said that she needed to be fed. And the red-haired woman was not going to ignore it.
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas looks up as Marcus cruises through, telling him he’s about to fix himself a late dinner too. “Mm-mmph,” he says, laughing behind closed lips. He takes a swallow of wine to wash his mouthful of lamb and potatoes down, and adds, “Join me when you’ve fixed yourself something to eat.”
When Marcus disappears into the kitchen, he’ll run into Dasha. Lukas stays out in the dining room, forking two potatoes with a certain, exacting precision. They get popped in his mouth. In the fireplace, a small shower of sparks soars up as a log cracks in half.
[Joss Lehrer] Gaia only knows what brings Joss to the brotherhood at this time of the early morning – it’s almost a guarentee that she hasn’t been sleeping, not yet. She runs the late night, early morning patrols, as befitting her status as Eagle Omega. She doesn’t mind though- in fact, her steps are lighter than ever as she sneaks into the common room – without bothering to use the door.
There’s a pop as a displacement of air results in one laughing Godi hitting the floor, and rolling out of the way as there’s a soft (this time – should have heard the one at the packhouse) CRACK of electricity that follows her, arching across the rug and zapping Joss in the shoulder. “OW!” she yelps, laughing, as she rolls to her feet, and skips down the stairs to the kitchen, intending to hit the bar where she plans to pilfer a pitcher or so of beer, her hand rubbing the burn mark on her shoulder.
[Marcus Schwarzkopf] *It doesn’t take Marcus too long to make himself a sandwich. A hoagie roll, ham, turkey, roast beef, spinach leaves, tomatoes, onions, pickles, vinegar, oil, salt and some pepper. He grabs a serving pitcher, ice and some water and takes it with his sandwich now held in some wax paper. He heads past Joss.*
“Morning little sister ~rhya.”
*He heads over to Lukas’s table, and takes down one chair, and then another for Joss, and one more if Dasha doesn’t have one yet.*
[Dasha Dmitriev] Contrary to popular belief, Dasha Dmitriev did not subsist entirely off of cigarettes and booze. She was raiding the fridge; the Shadow Lord gave Marcus half of an upward nod. she was surprisingly at ease here. Possibly because she had a purpose in mind: food. Late night munchies.
The Lord finally found something in the fridge that she could microwave and then devour. Roast beef.
She’d heard good things. Eventually, she wandered out again with a plate full of various leftover things. She might have been a discerning woman in many regards, but Dasha was not discerning by any means when it came to whatever she ate. She grabbed a beer for her beverage. Something dark, foreign, and unpronounceable.
Hey, look, a chair. “Thanks,” she said.
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Now there are four chairs in front of the fire. Two are wingbacks; two are regular dining chairs, moved over by Marcus.
Lukas hooks his foot behind one of the legs of the small side table between the wingback chairs. He moves it over so Marcus and Dasha have someplace to set their food, and Joss has someplace to set her beer.
“Here I thought I was the only one that ate dinner this late.” Lukas looks at Dasha, the stranger. “We haven’t met. I’m Lukas Wyrmbreaker, Cliath Full Moon of Thunder.”
[Joss Lehrer] She grins up at Marcus as he says hello. “Heya.” Dasha gets a grin too, because she is just that kind of friendly with just about everyone. She heads to the dining room, behind the bar, and opts to steal a bottle of beer instead pops the top as she moves toward the table. Her tanktop is dark, tonight, her skirts earthtones, and her dual bat tattoo easily seen at the base of her throat, just under her collarbone.
Other than that, there’s not many scars to speak of that can be seen, and there’s just the mark that’s already healing on her shoulder – it was just a love tap, after all, and not the kind of love taps they were dealing out the night before. “Hey Lukas. That smells incredible. You make it?”
She plops down into a chair, all sloppy grace and teenage energy, legs spread, the full skirts settling in between as she holds her beer with both hands in her lap. Intros are the order of the hour, and she adds her’s after Lukas. “Hi. I’m Joss Lehrer – Gossamer Wing, Fostern Godi and Eagle Omega.”
[Katherine Bellamonte] Quiet footsteps herald the appearance of the Silver Fang down the stairwell, one hand tucked into the pocket of her silk robe, the other skirting down the handrail. Katherine looks the picture of the rumpled angel, her golden hair tousled and loose around her face, her eyes clear in the darkness, even her full mouth soft and untouched by lipstick.
She pauses at the base of the stairs, lifting a fair eyebrow at the small gathering before her. The robe she has swathed herself in is thin and palest white with a pattern of dancing dragons carefully sewn into the design. Cinched around her waist, it gives the Philodox a shapely figure as she glides into the room, smelling faintly of soap and moisturizer.
Apparently, she did not keep the same nocturnal hours as her pack-mate, even when working off a debt.
“Lamb again, Lukas?” A quiet sniff.
[Marcus Schwarzkopf] *His demeanor is a little more sure, a little more confident then he may have been before. He’s survived four different battles since coming to Chicago and lived to tell the tale, or at least have a Galliard mention them in passing.
Once thing from those who do know him is that he’s shaved and gotten a hair cut. No more shoulder length hair, no it is cropped short but long enough to lay flat and need to be combed. The bushy beard is gone, and he’s clean shaved now. Whether this makes him look older or younger is up to the individual but one think is for sure his eyes hold a wisdom that no typical seventeen year old contains. He’s lived a hard life, and survived combat to come out stronger.
He nods to all those around.* “For those of you I have not met I am Marcus Schwarzkopf, Two Ravens, Cliath Philodox of the Get of Fenris.” *He says in a voice that sounds like it hasn’t fully awakened yet.*
[Dasha Dmitriev] “Dasha Dmitriev,” she replied. “Bitter Heart to the Nation, Fostern Galliard of Thunder.”
An introduction for those who needed them. Her posture was relaxed, yes, but she didn’t give any indication that she was tired by any means. Truth be told, she had another few hours in her before she would no doubt try to stare at the ceiling and attempt sleeping. She wouldn’t succeed, mind you, but still. It was the thought that counted.
“I would blame the internal adjustment for eating at this hour but realistically, I’m always eating at some ungodly hour. Never been much of a morning person.”
Or a daylight person, really, but that was neither here nor there.
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] “Hey Joss.” Lukas smiles more than most Shadow Lords, and when it does, it lights up his face. A short, self-deprecating laugh as he looks down at his plate, “Yeah. Well, the lamb. Not the potatoes. Turned out better than I expected, actually. Want some?” He holds the plate out toward the Fostern.
Then Katherine is slinking up, all languid Fangly grace. “Kate,” he waves her over. “Come here. I want you to meet someone. This is Marcus Two-Ravens, a brother of your moon from the Get of Fenris.
“Joss, Marcus, Sinclair, Wahya and I went into the City on the Grand Elder’s bidding. An unlucky hit had me picking my guts off the ground. Another one probably would’ve done me in, but Marcus stood between the enemy and I, ready to take a bullet for me, until Wahya managed to heal me.
“Marcus is looking for a pack. Wahya might be too.”
[Joss Lehrer] (and the player claws her way back into the room – again)
[Joss Lehrer] She grins and leans forward, and plucks a small piece of the offered lamb. “Thanks.” She chews it contentedly as she listens to the story told of their adventure the night before. She has found her home, her pack, and hopes the others find their place soon as well.
She pulls her legs up under her, sitting crisscrossapplesauce – which is “indian style” for those still rocking it old school. She settles her beer between her thighs, and picks apart the bit of lamb and takes small bites as she listens. “That thing was something unreal! Never thought I’d end up in a slap fight instead fo just ripping something apart. Learn something new everyday, hm?”
She smiles easily, and it always reaches her eyes. Well, almost always. When it doesn’t? It’s bad news. For now though, she’s perfectly content here by the fire, with a beer and a bit of stolen (offered) lamb.
[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine’s feet are bare, and though it cannot be easily seen beneath the sweeping length of her robe, she has painted her toenails a striking shade of pink, covered in glitter. She moves until she is standing at her newly-appointed Alpha’s shoulder; a pale match for his dark looks and follows the introductions with her eyes.
To each name she delivers the same slow seduction of her smile and a hand strays to touch her hair, fingering the long strands and tugging absently. “I am delighted to make each of your acquaintances.” She delivers on a purr, her mood all play and light this evening, though the touches of her moon are beginning to heighten her temper. “I am Katherine Bellamonte, Cliath Half Moon of the Bellamonte House, of the Wyrmfoe House, Silver Fang.”
Lukas speaks of near death experiences, and his pack-mate quirks her brow, a hand coming to rest at his shoulder, she shakes him lightly, an admonishment of one sibling toward another. “C’est si?, you must take better care of your insides, Wyrmbreaker. I am rather fond of their owner.”
Marcus finds Katherine’s eyes on him next.
“It seems we owe you a great debt, Two Ravens.”
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Perhaps because there’s a Galliard in their midst, Lukas goes on, “The others didn’t do half bad either. Joss summoned her totem to our aid. And Sinclair, the Walker Galliard, was the one who came up with the winning strategy.” The corners of his mouth tug upward as his eyes meet Joss’s. “Lovebites and playful taps.”
[Marcus Schwarzkopf] *Marcus waves his hand slightly and looks at Kate.* “I did what any Garou would’ve done. In fact Warcry~yuf did the same as me. Without the courage of each Garou there the attack would’ve failed. I can say with no small modesty I was proud to have fought alongside each Garou there.”
*He turns to Lukas.* “You should take Wahya~yuf though. His medicine is strong, and if you need a Theruge you will not find many better. It seems you already have a half moon among your pack. And I am honored that you are considering me, but I have not yet convinced the totem spirits of this sept that I am worthy. If I were to join your pack I am afraid I could not bring much to the whole except what you have seen of me in battle, and the wisdom of my council.”
[Dasha Dmitriev] “I think I’d like to hear about this-“
about the same time that her phone rang in her pocket. It was an awful sound, because it stood out so stark and electronic against the silence and relatively earthen charm of the Brotherhood. She scowled at first, then took the phone out to look at it. The scowl turned to a neutral expression and the Galliard stood briefly.
“Excuse me,” and with that, she headed off to answer the phone in private. She wasn’t speaking English. She was speaking some strange mixture of what one speaks in the Ukraine and Russian. As that it was an eastern European language, there was very little about it that sounded happy.
[Joss Lehrer] She laughs lightly, easily, and adds “The biggest game of tag ever.” Speaking of, she rubs the back of her shoulder again, peering over at it to make sure that the lingering ache is just that, nothing else. It is, and she relaxes and takes a swig of her beer. “Then Marcus dives into the heart of it all and smashing it to bits! It was quite amazing. I’d have liked to study it more…” she trails off, because well – she’s Godi and that’s what she does. Jolly Joss, Goofy Godi….
She blink, and rolls her eyes at Marcus. “Haven’t convinced the spirits yer worthy? I call bullshit.” That grin is impish, playful, teasing. She’s clearly fond of Marcus. He’s one of the first friends she made in the city, after all.
[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine leans over Lukas and pinches a potato from his plate with her quick, nimble fingers. She takes a tiny bite and utters an expression of surprise. “We have Glass Walkers in the city? I had always thought there were a strange lack in numbers.”
To Marcus, she licks the taste of the potato from her lower lip and stares at him consideringly a moment. “You are too modest I think, Sir. But this in fact endears you to me, for we already possess all the ego we can manage in yours truly.” The Silver Fang gleams, and touches a hand to her chest with a downward cast toward Lukas.
“However do not fret that your moon makes you unsuitable for me, I for one would welcome another Half Moon to confer with in times of need.”
[Marcus Schwarzkopf] *He gives Kate a half smile.* “I thank you for those kind words.” *He takes a sip of his water.* “I must confess I do miss the bonds of the pack. It seems like it has been one day longer then too long since I was in my last one, Red Horse’s Glory, in the Wind Horse Sept.”
[Danicka Musil] The doorway between alley and kitchen opens; it opens frequently. Plenty of Garou and Kin live here now. It closes again and footsteps go up the stairs. Light ones.
About three minutes later, footsteps just like the ones before tap downwards, and one of the kitchen doors swings open, a head of long, wildly wavy blonde hair poking through. There is a thin, fuzzy white scarf wound about her neck, the ends trailing down over a strapless red top that drapes down her torso, gathers over her breasts. She is a few inches taller than her natural height this — well, it’s not quite evening anymore — morning, a pair of strappy silver heels peeking out from the ensd of her jeans. She doesn’t expect to find who she’s looking for, but when she does —
“Lukášek!” she says brightly, her eyes the same murky, sea-glass green they usually are. They are wide and, as she crosses the room to his table, she doesn’t blink a single time.
“Nápov&+283;da!” Danicka goes on forlornly, the corners of her painted mouth turning down in distress as she drops herself into a nearby chair, half-sprawling. “Jsem ukamenován.”
[Joss Lehrer] She licks her fingers of the last juices of the shared lamb with a delighted sound low in her throat, and that’s about the time Danicka makes her dramatic entrance and Joss.. blinks. Compared to the other women in the room she is almost shockingly average. Average weight, height, appearance, but for the piercings, tattoo and dreads that make her stand out…
…and that easy smile. To Kate, she nods. “Marcus is a good Foresti. Questioned him myself when we met. You’d do well to snatch him up before someone else does.”
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Lukas looks up and holds up a hand in a gesture of goodbye as Dasha gets up to answer the phone. He doesn’t call after her to interrupt her call.
When the Galliard has left their small circle, Lukas nods Katherine into the chair she vacated. The Shadow Lord laughs and shakes his head a little as Two-Ravens speaks of unworthiness before the spirits of the sept.
“Marcus is modest,” he says, “which is to his credit, but sometimes also sells himself short. I actually sought Marcus’s counsel at one point while you were in the Umbra, Kate. He has a good grasp of the Litany, as far as I could tell. Last night, he also pushed for peace over war. It wasn’t the right solution,” Lukas is utterly unflinching about this, “but it was a bold thing to say for a Fenrir.”
It might be slightly awkward of Marcus to be spoken of like this, his qualities and his deeds drawn forth and laid out and examined in his presence. But then, Lukas was never the type to weigh and judge a man behind his back.
“Marcus was also the one that Sam snapped his jaws at,” he adds, “right before he was severed from the pack. Apparently Marcus dished out quite the verbal smackdown. Then he went toe to toe with the Modi without lifting a finger in return because Evan had ordered them both to stand down. Sam tried his best to break his face, and the way Sampson told it, barely even managed to bruise him. So,” a wry grin, “don’t let his mild manners fool you. What Joss says is true too. He landed some pretty good blows on the Weaver-thing last night.
“Anyway,” he finishes, and for a moment his eyes rest directly on the Forseti, “Marcus’s spirit may not be prepared for a totem bond yet, but I’d like the pack to get acquainted with him anyway. I think he’s a worthy addition. A good philodox and a good warrior, honorable and strong.”
As he’s concluding, Danicka appears, bright-toned, a little glassy-eyed. He turns; she drops into a chair; they’re sitting near the fire, and he’s in one of the wingback armchairs. He’s starting to get to his feet when she says Nápov&+283;da!. He stops when she says the rest.
And he blinks at her for a second. Then he turns back to the Garou.
“This is Dani&+269;ka Musil, a kinswoman of my tribe. Dani&+269;ka, this is Joss, a Fenrir Crescent-Moon, and Marcus, her tribemate, and a Half-Moon.” He wonders if any of this is even sinking in. “Jak jste se sem dostal? Autem?”
[Joss Lehrer] She nods, as they speak of the night Sam and Marcus went down. “I was there. Sampson tells it true.” There’s a tension around her mouth as she says so, in her eyes – which briefly lose their sparkle. It seems the gentle godi, the giggling girl, wants nothing more than to put her fist through Sam’s face. And the sooner the better.
She shakes it off to smile at Danicka, though. “I’ve seen you before, though I don’t think we were introduced then. A pleasure.”
[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine laughs, dropping her lithe figure into the newly vacated chair and folding her long, long legs over one arm, carefully keeping herself demure beneath her robe. “Lukas! Cheri. If Marcus has already been acquainted with Sampson, that is most of the pack, oui? Who remains but my dear cousin, Caleb.” She speaks of the other Silver Fang fondly. “A most talented Theurge. He recently lost his mate in a most brutal fashion. We all share in his grief.”
Then: the burst of a foreign language as Danicka arrives and Katherine’s mouth snaps shut in accord. She watches the reaction of her pack-mate quietly and when he introduces her, Katherine turns her face, leaning her head over the edge of the chair in a lolling, lazy fashion. “Some wine, Danicka?”
[Marcus Schwarzkopf] *He turns and nods his head to Danicka, a greeting intended to be polite but not overly so in the presence of Lukas. Garou were sometimes very territorial of their kin. Protocol must be maintained.*
*He frowns a bit, his sandwich still untouched. He is speaking to everyone* “Since you have spoken on it, Wyrmbreaker ~yuf, I must tell you it has… pained me for lack of a better word that you were forced to expel Sam Modine from you pack. The disagreement was between he and I on the conduct of a proper Fenrir. I was only seeking to question him to get him to understand that when I give my word I will not act improper around someone that should be enough. As a Fenrir that should’ve been enough for him. It is a shame because even now I have never seen this… Gabriella kin, who the fight was over anyway.”
*He pauses* “Regardless had I more wisdom I might’ve been able to seek a better path, one with… a better outcome for everyone.” *He gestures to Lukas* “Just as you pointed out again the way of peace was in fact not the answer in our battle. For which… I am glad. We fulfilled our pledge to the Elders of the Sept to destroy the Enemy. My only concern at the time was to win the battle. If peace can accomplish that so be it. If it can by war… Well.” *He smiles a bit.* “Sometimes that is better.”
[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine’s head turns back to Marcus, her smile has dropped, though her voice, while level is still merry enough to dispel any notion her serious expression offers. “Gabriella is my younger sister, and under my care once more. Her continued association with the Get,” It seems she cannot even bring herself to say Sam’s name. “Is regrettable, but a matter that will be handled by our own kind.”
A beat. She goes on. “I do not begrudge your judgment on the matter, Sir. I only wish I had been present to try and keep my own blood in line.”
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] It must seem strange to Joss and Marcus that Lukas, so straightforward, so unwaveringly honest, is packed with the likes of Katherine Bellamonte, whose every public word was a sort of feint, a sort of bright, empty mask.
But then, there is something beneath the mask: madness, to be sure, and ambition. Plenty of good intentions. Some bad ones. And vulnerability. They can’t see it, but it is there. Katherine Bellamonte thinks of herself as a god-queen, divine and perfect. What she doesn’t see is that she’s arguably the most fallible, the most human of the pack.
So. Kate speaks lightly, perhaps far too lightly, of Caleb’s loss. There’s a shadow in Lukas’s pale blue eyes, but it passes.
“When Caleb is feeling himself again, you should definitely have a talk with him,” he says to Marcus. “As for Sam — don’t blame yourself. You catalyzed the last straw. But there were a lot of other reasons on that camel’s back.”
Marcus was at the Moot. He’d remember some of those reasons. Others — well. Lukas didn’t talk about those.
“At any rate,” he says, “I’d be honored if you ran with the Unbroken Circle as a prospective member of the pack. Until the next full moon, say? Perhaps Wahya Many-Tongues will join you as the same.”
[Danicka Musil] Since Lukas and Katherine are currently occupying the two wingbacked chairs in front of the fireplace — which is fitting, in a way, the Shadow Lord and the Silver Fang sitting in the two largest seats — Danicka is now half-sprawled in a dining chair off to one side, somewhat separated from the others. She leans back, one forearm resting on the top, her hand dangling. She lets her eyes drift as Lukas introduces Joss and Marcus, and her spine straightens a bit, but her eyes are definitely a bit… shiny. They wander back up to the Ahroun.
When she smiles, she looks so much younger. And she looks unabashedly, openly happy to see him, as she launches into an answer to the question that he just asked: “Šel jsem na párty. Velmi p&+283;kné d&+283;v&+269;e názvem Sammy jel mi tady. Cht&+283;la m&+283; políbit. &+344;ekl jsem jí necht&+283;l jsem ji líbat. Mám nápadník!“
It’s a very animated story she’s telling, her eyebrows going up, her tone aghast as she rattles out that last bit. The next, however, is matter-of-fact, falling once again into forlornness: “&+344;íkala, že byste mohli dívat. Poplácal jsem ji. &+344;ekla mi, že nemohu p&+345;ijít na více stran.“
Danicka shakes her head slowly at the end there, her voice low with the gravity of what she’s saying. The sadness of it. She flicks her eyes at Katherine when she’s offered wine. She looks back up at Lukas. “Pro&+269; je královnou d&+283;vko sem dneska?” she asks, sounding curious in a way that is almost childlike. She sighs, blinking a few times and looking at Lukas’s plate. “By se m&+283;la na sob&+283; šaty. Zkurvená d&+283;vka.“
Even as that last is leaving her mouth, she looks at Marcus, then Joss, and gives them both a gentler smile that looks no less sincere than the one that shone on her face when she looked up at the other Shadow Lord. “It’s a pleasure,” she says, and nods to Joss. “I think I saw you at the bonfire.”
Her English is, as Katherine and Lukas already knew, unaccented and perfect.
[Joss Lehrer] She shakes her head, dreads flying. “No. There was no other way! I was there. All Sam had to do was answer a question, and instead, he refused. Not only did he refuse, but he trounced your honor, and then your person instead of simply answering a question – “Is she your kin”! How hard is it to say ‘She is under the watch of my pack’?”
She tossed her hand up, frustrated – and swallows back the rest with a rather large swallow of beer behind it, and lets the other words wash over her, as Lukas makes offer of pack to Marcus, and Wahya as well.
Control regained, (…she is so angry with Modine – especially now that the week is up, and he’s yet to follow through…) and is able to relax back into her chair and smile at Danicka. “Yes, I was at the bonfire. That was quite the party.”
[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine asks Danicka if she will take wine and is replied to in another language, towards Lukas. She lifts a lazy hand and gestures idly. “May I have the subtitles, s’il vous plaît?”
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] In response to the volumes of Czech spilling out of Danicka’s mouth, Lukas has only four words. One is her name. The other three, Joss, Kate and Marcus would not understand. They can hear the tone, though, which is low — a little clipped at the edges. A little strained.
“Dani&+269;ka. P&+345;esta&+328; být nezdvo&+345;ilý.“
Then he answers the rest in English, “Kate lives here now. For the next half month or so.” His eyes are briefly on Kate; he shrugs. “Outcome of a challenge. And,” where Danicka sits, Lukas has to turn his head past his shoulder to see her, “I’m sorry to hear your invitations have been revoked.” A beat. “But tell Sammy to go fuck herself.”
She can almost hear the subtext:
Moje!
[Marcus Schwarzkopf] *He nods his head to Lukas.* “You honor me ~yuf. I will run with the Unbroken Circle until the next full moon. And then if you and your pack should still find me worthy you will honor me again by accepting me as a packmate. If you do not I will take no offense and we will remain just as we are now.”
*He turns to Danicka and smiles, nodding a bit.* “Yes I was there. It is unfortunate I did not get to speak with you then. Though I am happy to meet you now.” *Speaking about the party.
He reaches over and puts a steady hand on Joss’s back to comfort her as a friend, and a tribe member for her obvious irritation at Sam.
He points at Lukas.* “And to show you I have will have no hard feelings, whether you accept me or not as a pack member on the next full moon. For giving me the honor of even trying I will hunt a Ram, and cook it in the ground in the traditional way at the next bonfire in your honor Wyrmbreaker ~yuf.” *He says with a grin.*
[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine disguises her laughter as a cough, behind her hand.
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] Whatever had gone on between the Shadow Lord and his kin, it’s darkened Lukas’s mood somewhat. Otherwise, Lukas might’ve laughed aloud at Marcus’s promise.
Instead, he merely smiles, a lopsided, wry turn of his mouth. “Maybe a deer,” he says. “Might be hard to find a ram around here.”
Katherine’s laughter is not missed. Lukas looks at her for a moment. What’s so funny?
[Danicka Musil] Her eyes glitter in response to Lukas’s words in Czech, sharpened but not lethal. It’s difficult, when she seems to be at the very least moderately drunk, to tell if she is angry, or ashamed, or afraid. The look on her face could be any of the the three, but as he turns back to English, it grows steadily more subdued, more submissive, until she is letting her shoulders fall and glancing at the floor, taking a moment to find her composure.
Taking a moment to remember a conversation in the front seat of her car this past winter. Taking a moment to remember a choice he made the night she brought kolá&+269;e, a choice he would make again. Taking a moment to remember a discussion she ignored, or forgot, in favor of what she wanted more at the time.
The tip of Danicka’s tongue is visible for a moment before she lifts her head again. Her eyes are clear… or as close to it as she can get right now. “I apologize to you all. The brother of my blood asked me a question and the answer was… very embarassing. I did not want to shame him in front of strangers.” She winces slightly, covers it with a snippet of sparse laughter: “That didn’t work so well.”
She inclines her head, even to Katherine. ““Chápu,” she says softly, her lips framing the word slowly. The next words are sweet, almost imploring: “Nem&+367;žeme ji nechal být ponižováni znovu.“
Danicka’s smile grows. “It means ‘I am sorry. It will not happen again.'”
[Joss Lehrer] She looks over at Marcus, and takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly, and smiles. Another, and she’s alright, and then there’s talk of food again.. “OH that pig was soooooooooo good…” A pause as she considers the logistics of a ram, as others seem amused at the thought, but nothing will top that pig roast for her.
Maybe.
Danicka apologizes, and Joss looks a bit confused but that’s alright. She shifts her position on the chair, having sat in one place too long it seems, as she pulls her knees to her chest, her skirts more than long enough to allow for such an action not to give the room an eye full. Her heels rest on the edge of her chair, and she flexes her feet, relaxes, then settles comfortably as her toes tap to some un heard beat.
“I’m beginning to think I’m the only person in Chicago limited to just English!” It’s said with laughter though, easy and warm.
[Katherine Bellamonte] Merely the idea that he means to slaughter wildlife in your honor, Lukas. I feel as if I have regressed for a moment to prehistoric times. Tell me, does your woman wish for wine? I cannot seem to coax an answer from her in a language I comprehend.
Katherine rises then to her feet, and pats toward the kitchen to retrieve some glasses and crisp white wine from the fridge in a flutter of blond waves and silk.
[Danicka Musil] [Correction! Nechci síla vás ob&+283;tovat mi kv&+367;li balení jednoty znovu. Not Nem&+367;žeme ji nechal být ponižováni znovu.
I know. Huge difference to all of you.]
[Marcus Schwarzkopf] *He looks at Danicka, waves a hand and shakes his head slightly to let her know he did not take offense to her speaking another language in front of him.*
*Marcus smiles at Joss.* “Ram is good. I can get a Ram. I know where to go. I just need a vehicle to get me there. But they’ll be close to in season by that point so the meat will be pretty good.” *He looks at Lukas.* “I can get a deer too. Probably should if I wanna feed all those people again.”
*He looks back at Joss.* “If you want I can teach you a few words in Lakota some time.”
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] When Danicka apologizes to Kate, Lukas’s jaw tenses for a beat. He turns to cast the kinswoman a glance; she’s the only one who sees it, and has even a chance of reading it.
A moment later he turns back. His smile to Joss looks a touch forced. “I was born in Prague,” he says by way of explanation, “and Dani&+269;ka’s father is also Czech. As for Katherine, I believe her family is of French ancestry, and still maintains large holdings there.”
Marcus mentions Lakota, and Lukas raises his eyebrows. “A Fenrir that speaks a native tongue? That’s almost as rare as a Fenrir counseling peace. But if you need a ride out to get a ram, I can drive you. I finally got another car.”
And, to Katherine, rather tersely, I think she’s fine.
[Danicka Musil] [Readinatin’ the boytype! -1 (fucking wasted)]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 7, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Katherine Bellamonte] Katherine, in a falsely sweet tone contradicts: Oh yes? She does not look fine to me Lukas, perhaps you should take her home. Yes, indeed. I think this would be wise.
After a few moments, Katherine returns triumphant with a glass of wine and the bottle in hand, her gown swishing around her body, the light playing over her gown’s thin material.
[Joss Lehrer] She arches a brow at him, teasing. “Cuss words? I always wanted to be able to cuss in another language…” Marcus doesn’t swear. At least not that she’s seen yet, even when he’s angry. She nods, though. “That’d be fun, though. We could have our own secret conversations then… I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone else who speaks Lakota.”
Plenty of other languages, sure, as evidenced by Lukas explanation. She laughs, lightly – clearly she’s not offended by whatever has caused his smile to tighten, his eyes to darken, his jaw to tense. “I was born and raised in the boring ole USofA – never finished High School, so no additional language classes. Even the Construct last night spoke more languages than me!”
There’s a mock pout as she tosses back the rest of her beer and stands. “But, I’ve one last bit of Patrols to do before I hit the hay. You all have a lovely evening… or morning, as the case may be.” She moves past Marcus and ruffles his hair, much like the “sister” he likes to call her. “I like the new do and babyface, by the way. Much better than the mountain man look.”
She dances out of the way of any (well-deserved!) swat, and heads toward the kitchen with a final wave for them all.
[Marcus Schwarzkopf] *He nods to Lukas.* “My mother was Fenrir, Garou, a Philodox like me. My father was Wendigo kin. I grew up in Pine Ridge South Dakota on the Indian Reservation there. I’m half Scandinavian on my mother’s side. A mix of that region and German. And I’m Oglala Lakota on my father’s side.”
*He chuckles at Joss.* “I could teach you how to say various words for horse and buffalo dung. And a few other choice words if you want.”
*He pats Joss’s shoulder as she leaves, and then takes a bite of his sandwich.*
[Danicka Musil] “…How do you mention horse or buffalo dung in Lakota?” Danicka inquires, her eyebrows drawing together slightly in consideration.
It isn’t that she did not see, or understand, the brief look Lukas gave her. She looks at him for perhaps three seconds, communicates nothing of her own, and turns her attention back to the others.
“It was good seeing you again!” she says to Joss, smiling and giving a small wave as the dreadlocked woman leaves.
[Lukas Wyrmbreaker] What’s your problem, Kate? — flat out.
“The goddamn Construct spoke more languages than the citizens of Babel.” Lukas picks up his wine and drains the glass. “Night, Joss. Stop by again.”
He picks up his plate, then. There’s still three and a half lambchops on it, some potatoes. “That’s quite a family tree,” he says. “I thought the Wendigo and the Fenrir weren’t too fond of one another.”
[Katherine Bellamonte] You wish me to be honest, Lukas, or simply give you a simple answer?
Outwardly, Katherine did little more than resume her seat and pour herself some wine, leaning back and sipping from it.
[Joss Lehrer] (night ya’ll. :) )