whatever asshole.

[Liadan] She doesn't even know the name of the bar she's leaving. All she knows is that it was quiet, the lighting was low, and was empty enough that no one really bothered the tall redhead hiding out in a corner booth.

Líadan Whelan has been back in Chicago less than twenty-four hours, and she's already run into people she knows, people she didn't know but were part of the Nation. She saw someone she really hoped never to see again in the park, and she'd run away as fast as her Chucks would carry her.

Now, pushing her way out of the little bar, her head is full of other concerns. The temperatures are bitterly cold, but they don't seem to affect Lee, even though her only protection from the cold appears to be her blue hoody. She's dressed in a pair of dark washed bootcut jeans, there's a leather messenger bag slung across her body, and her long red hair falls in a pair of hastily thrown together braids.

Her home, for now, is just a few blocks to the southwest. Hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket, her head down to watch the pavement, that is where she's headed.

[Alexander] The oaken door of some wannabe-irish-pub spills open; Alexander and a tumble of bouncers spill out on the street. Fists crack off bone and flesh. Alex hits the ground on his back, skids a few feet, bounces back to his feet. He gets to the door right as it slams in his face.

"FUCK!" He slams his fists into the door, then grabs the handle and rattles it violently in its frame for a few seconds. Then his fury bleeds into some low, smirking humor. He laughs below his breath, slams his fists on the door again, and turns away

just in time to see Liadan Whelan coming down the sidewalk. So he intercepts her.

"Where've you been?"

[Liadan] FUCK!

The expletive grabs at her attention, and Lee lifts her eyes and drags her mind away from wherever it had wandered to see...

She groans inwardly. And she attempts to pick up the pace, hoping to pass by unnoticed. But of course even without a Garou's ability to smell her breeding, Lee stands out in a crowd. She's tall, she's slim, she has that red hair. She looks like the bookish sort that just wants to get home without the school bullies shaking her down for milk money.

And yet here comes one of the worst bullies she knows, intercepting her. When she sees she won't be escaping the charms of Alexander fucking Vaughn so easily, she lifts up her chin.

"Around," she says, and even just that one word sounds oddly accented. There's a pause, a hesitation while she takes a breath and focuses her attention. "Why? Don't tell me you missed me."

[Alexander] Music continues to beat dully through the heavy door, heavier walls at his back. Alexander looks at Liadan with his head cocked faintly to the side. "No," he says then; a beat later it becomes clear which question he's answer. "Don't lie; you haven't been around. Your or your Scottish wolf.

"Where you headed?"

[Liadan] His answer doesn't surprise her. She meets his gaze, and she quirks a brow.

"That's funny, because I saw him earlier today." Lee's words are not spoken with the same odd accent used when she said Around, but she's fighting it, trying with all her might to keep from sounding like a leprechaun.

"Home," she says, and starts to continue on as she has in the past. It's familiar, their meetings. The way she runs into him, engages, and then tries to disengage and escape and almost never does. She's been gone a month. She feels like she's only been gone a day.

[Alexander] Alexander doesn't follow. He stays where he is, dusting the seat of his pants off, and the back of his motorcycle jacket. She's going home. He laughs under his breath, and then he raises his voice to call after her.

"I think I got you figured out."

[Liadan] "Good for you," she calls back without turning, continuing on.

[Alexander] Another snort of a laugh, too quiet for her -- already twenty paces away -- to hear. He raises his voice again to call, "Nice to see you again too, babydoll."

[Liadan] Maybe she's going home. Maybe home is where she was. There's no doubt that her condo is in the direction she's walking, but so is Grant Park, or she could head east instead of west and go to the Navy Pier.

Wherever she's headed, Lee walks with an easy, sauntering stride. She turns her head when he calls again. "Whatever, asshole."