apology.

[Boy] By now it wasn't weird seeing Boy around. Every Chicagoan in the nation had probably met, seen, or at least heard of the youngest Alpha in the city by now. But, it was a little strange seeing him around the Brotherhood. Hadn't he cut his ties with this place a long time ago? He was out. His packmate was out. His mate was more or less banned (or so the rumor went) and they all had their own concerns, many a bus and train stop away in Lincoln Park.

So what was he doing here? At the Brotherhood of thieves? And what the hell was he doing knocking on Alexander Vaughn's door?

[Boy] ((Well my char is here with a specific purpose, but your free to enjoy the hilarity that's about to ensue. :p))
to Alexander, Rory O'Bryne

[Alexander] Amazingly, the drums aren't going tonight. It's actually quiet in front of Alexander's door. Boy has to knock twice; the first time, there's no response, though he can hear the kinsman cursing inside.

The second time, there's a "OKAY, OKAY, WAIT."

Twenty seconds later, the door flies open. Alexander bursts into the doorframe, looking pissed. There's a headset hanging from his neck, cord dangling. He looks Boy up and down. If he's surprised to see him, it manifests only in an expression of -- well, anger.

"What the fuck. I got headshot."

[Boy] Of course it was anger. Of course. Vaughn was involved. There had to be anger coming from somewhere. In this case though, it wasn't coming from Boy. Other than the constant smoldering heat of the seventeen-year-old's Rage, he was calm. And, if the slow draw and release of breath was any indication, he was trying hard to remain that way.

"Hey, Alex. You got a minute. There's something I need to say."

[Rory O'Bryne] Most would think the pingpong table would be used for it's obvious intentions - but that is not true tonight. Tonight, a chair has been drug up to the side and in it sits one fire-haired kin. On the table is any manner of things, bits and bobs and little parts and bigger parts and a whole bunch of pieces that might be able to come together to make some kind of whole - the questions is.. what kind?

While Boy pounds on a door, and someone answers angrily, Rory works steadily on the mess before her. She's clearly building... something. Heaven knows what it is, though.

I got headshot. Rory looks up, and to the right, as if she could see who's talking through the walls. She can't, and a moment later curls slide forward to cover her expression as she bends her head to her task once more.

[Alexander] Alexander snorts, shifts from foot to foot -- a pit bull of a man, compact and muscular, bursting at the seams with obvious aggression.

"Oh, this oughta be good. Am I gonna hear a long rant about how you love Wendy, you're not coddling her or setting her up for a world of disappointment when you finally lose your shit on her ass? Or, oh wait, I know. It's gonna be a rant about you and Marrick! Or just Marrick!"

He pulls the headphones off his neck, whips it backward without looking. It smacks into the wall, thumps onto his bed.

"All right, let's hear it."

[Boy] "All right, let's hear it."

And there's a dozen things going through his mind, playing out on the tiny movie screen behind his eyes. They dance, those eyes, flitting between Alex's eyes and something else, some visible, visualized thought that didn't require focusing. He swallowed. So much to say. He breathed. So much to tell this...this...motherfu--

"I'm sorry."

Well that was right out of left field.

"I'm sorry about...attacking you. I was angry and...I had no real reason to other than...my own pride...and being..."

He swallowed again, harder this time.

"Being stupid. So. I'm sorry."

[Alexander] There's a second, a beat, in which Alexander is very clearly taken aback.

Then the breach is sealed. A smirk resettles itself on his face, familiar as an old jacket. He leans his shoulder against the doorjamb. Built as he is -- and Alexander is built, the sort of physique that humans only manage to develop by slaving away at irons and machines for hours and hours a day, obsessively -- his frame simply isn't enough to fill the space there. He's not a tall man. His shoulders are broad in proportion; they're not broad in absolutes. Standing in the doorframe, which a larger man would loom in, which several of the occupants of this very rooming house would loom in, it's easy to see the size that his aggression and arrogance belies or compensates for.

"Well, thanks so much, kid," he says, far too pleasantly to be sincere. "Now we can have our kodak moment and hug. And then you can feel better about yourself and go on back to telling yourself you're not a goddamn monster.

"Lemme ask you something. Why do you try so damn hard to be a goddamn goody two-shoes?"

[Boy] Its called chuffing, the sudden spurt of air that errupts from him. Cats did it. Big cats that ruled savannas and were rumored to eat men. Dogs did it too, a precursor to annoyed barking as a result of someone trespassing on the territory just outside fences (yes, its my territory! I can see it!) Wolves did it too, only they didn't do it to intruding wolves. No, intruding wolves were howled at from afar, and if they persisted they were set upon. In the wolf world, chuffing was reserved for familiar wolves. Packmates. In the wolf world chuffing meant 'I wont kill you, but we're about to have an argument.'

Boy chuffed at Vaughn's mention of the word 'Monster' and again, louder, at his question. His jaw flexed with that obvious annoyance and his eyes danced again with the image of who knows what he was imagining.

"Because I know I'm a monster. But only to the ones that really deserve it."

[Alexander] "And who decides who really deserves it?" There's mockery in the way he drags the adjective out. "You? Convenient system."

[Boy] "Not exactly."

Why are you still speaking?

"A lot of times its..."

Shut up. Shut the fuck up!

"Its murder."

He's pulling you in. This is what he does! Get out! Get out now!

"But there's monsters out there anyway. Wouldn't you want a few on your side?"

Oh christ, you just had to go there, didn't you?

[Alexander] Alexander stares for a second. The aggression's burnt itself out into something else: something like amazement and bemusement, right now.

"Christ, you are a dreamer."

It's shifted. Derision, pity, or maybe a strange breed of envy. Alexander tips his head back, knuckles himself under the jaw.

"You're not on my side," he says, as though explaining a difficult concept. "It's not about sides, 'least not down where I am. It's a goddamn food chain, and you, my idealistic little friend, are an apex predator in the making. You go on and delude yourself about being a protector or a righteous killer, but I know where you stand. Above me.

"Doesn't mean I don't have teeth, though. And it sure as hell doesn't mean I'm gonna count on you and your friends to do anything for my safety and wellbeing." He straightens up. "Anyhow. Thanks for your nice little apology. Gotta say it's nice to hear a little groveling once in a while."

[Boy] Grovelling?

His jaw tightens again, lips pursing, but closed tight around teeth.

"Anytime."

And while he still had the will to, Boy stepped back, turned, and headed for the exit.

[Boy] ((I think that's a wrap for these two! Thanks for playing!))

winning.

Wendy Berber - Caern & Surrounding Territories [Administrator]

Wendy Berber, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Administrator]

Alexander Vaughn, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Wendy Berber]

*The house was being fumigated for bedbugs, and as such Wendy found herself cut adrift on her day off, with nowhere to go and nothing to do. She'd swung by the bookstore only to be told by James to "go get some sun!". Not something she was overly enthusiastic about doing. So instead she'd enquired with the kin if there was anything she could do, and had been told there was some cleaning upstairs. And so its to that end that the bookworm finds herself on her hands and knees in the bathroom, scrubbing floors in an oversized white t-shirt and skirt. Ah well, it was something.*








[Administrator]

peep, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Administrator]

peep has left Caern & Surrounding Territories







[Wendy Berber]

*A bucket full of sudsy water sits at her hip, a sponge in her hand. Nearby a jug of bleach sits half empty. She sniffs against the smell, barefoot so as not to track fuzz along behind her as she scrubs. A bit of soap is rubbed off her chin with a sigh, glasses pushed back up onto her nose.*

[Alexander Vaughn]

You can hear Alexander coming a mile off. First it's the high tenor snarl of a Buell sportbike going 20-30 mph over the speed limit, pulling up in the lot, revving once or twice before falling silent. Then it's the slam of the back door. Then it's his motorcycle boots stomping up the stairs, making enough noise for two guys. Or half a dozen. Finally it's the man himself whistling jauntily as he comes through the common room.

He pauses to check the mailboxes. There's a cell phone bill in his, which he snorts at before slipping it into his back pocket. In a startling turn of generosity, he's taken to leaving his Xbox plugged into the common room's plasma screen ... though this might simply be because he enjoys murdering enemy soldiers and stomping enemy fighters on 60" of screen real estate. He stops by the console too, leaning down to switch it off where someone, Sinclair or Joey or Gabbie or someone, had forgotten to turn it off after their last bout.

Then Alex is coming down the hall, detouring through the bathroom where he stops short when he spots Wendy scrubbing the floors; the whistling halts long enough for him to snort a laugh, and then his big, heavysoled biking boots stop in front of Wendy.

"Playing Cinderella, peach? Not sure even a fairy godmother and some fancy crystal shoes can make you over."

He moves on -- he's not tracking mud, but he's not taking any particular care not to step on Wendy's recent work, either. With his shoulder, he bumps one of the stalls open. The stall door rattles shut a second later, and Alex doesn't bother to latch it.

"Wait, wait, no, I know what you're doing. You're practicing doggystyle position for your boyfriend. Am I right?" His laugh, short and harsh, echoes off the tiled walls. Under the door, Wendy can see him planting his feet, and then his zipper hisses down. Alex starts whistling again while he takes what sounds like the piss of a century.

Breaks off to comment, "Christ, I haven't pissed since 6:30am. I drank like half a gallon of Recharge." And a little later, "Damn. You don't mind if I dribbled a bit, do you?"

The toilet flushes. Alex comes back out zipping up, trampling across the floor the other way now on his way to the sinks.

[Wendy Berber]

*If she wasn't aware of Alex's approach my the obnoxious bike, the tromping of heavy boots did the trick. Her shoulders slump a little before she takes a deep breath.. She'd ignore him. She'd just act like he wasn't there. She's got a determined set to her jaw as he comments on her washing the floor, thin hand squeezing out bleach water into the pail. She fails to ignore him when he mentions her boyfriend, turning pinkish and clearing her throat. She's all business, intent on not giving him the satisfaction of bothering her.*

[Alexander Vaughn]

"What's the matter, peach?" Contrary to expectation, Alexander seems to be fastidious about his personal grooming. He doesn't just splash water for 2 seconds: he wets his hands, soaps up, scrubs for a good fifteen seconds, and then rinses. "You're all quiet."

[Wendy Berber] Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 4, 5, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
*Not to be baited, she breathes deeply and turns her back on him, scrubbing over his bootprints. Shaggy black hair wags back and forth as she puts muscle into it. Not today Alexander Vaughn. Not today. Her lips press into a thin line as she pushes up her glasses and inspects something stuck to the floor. She picks at it with a nail, shoulders tense.* (ignoring yoooou! manip + sub))

[Alexander Vaughn]

Everything Alex does is a little larger, a little rougher, a little more aggressive, a little more showy than it needs to be. He slams the faucet closed. Tears towels out of the dispenser. Scrubs his hands dry. Dunks the used paper towels into the trash.

Then he comes around and crouches down right in front of Wendy and snaps his fingers right under her nose a few times. "Hey. What are you, turning into Helen Keller?"

[Wendy Berber]

*She flinches at the first snap of his fingers, not entirely sure he wasn't about to slap her. Thin features twist in annoyance as she turns her head away, glaring sideways from under mussed bangs. * I'm mopping and you are in my w-way. *She squeezes bleach water next to his pant leg and alters her course to go around him if need be, crawling forward on bony white knees to scrub beside his shoe. Apparently entirely willing to get bleach all over him if need be.*

[Administrator]

Liadan Whelan, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Alexander Vaughn]

"So mop later." He stands up when she starts to encroach on his space. The smell of chlorine is pungent on the air. Leaning over, he picks up her bucket of bleach water and swings it over onto the sink counter. "Why the hell are you scrubbing the floors anyway? Punishment?" He seems amused by the prospect. "Who'd you piss off and how?"

[Wendy Berber]

*She scowls up at him though coke bottle spectacles.* I'm scrubbing floors because it n-needs done. Thats what k-kin do. We do things that n-need done. Give me that! *She stands up and scowls, rubbing her nose with a knuckle before thrusting out a skinny hand for the bucket.*

[Alexander Vaughn]

Something flashes across Alexander's face: disbelief or disgust; something. He promptly upends the bucket over the sink, dumping all the cleaning solution down the drain.

[Administrator]

paintchip, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Administrator]

paintchip has left Caern & Surrounding Territories

[Administrator]

Caleb Delacourt-Alden, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Liadan Whelan]

It's right about this time that Líadan pushes into the restroom. Dressed in a tee and jeans, red hair pulled to the sides in a pair of messy braids, the bespectacled girl has a spring in her step. Curiosity is what brought her in, rather than some biological need. She had just planned on coming up to watch some TV, see if any of her newfound buddies were around, when she heard voices from the bathroom. Clearly someone was not just in there taking a leak.

And that's when she happened upon Wendy and the nemesis. Lee looks down at Wendy on her hands and knees, cleaning stuff still in hand, and Alex standing with the bucket, dumping its contents into the sink. Her head tips and her brows go up.

"Hey, Wendy. Vaughn." There's a slight bit of exasperated emphasis on the second name, but otherwise she doesn't look like she's about to break out the claws. "I didn't realize the bathroom was the new party place."

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden]

Though he was still felt by the pack as a whole, the face of Caleb had been one that wasn't seen much around the Brotherhood. Perhaps there were glimpses caught of him at the caern, but little more. All told, it seemed for the time being that the Silver Fang had become somewhat of a recluse since the death of his wife.

As he stepped into the commons-room, dressed for the season in dark cargoes, boots, and an Aeropastle t-shirt, light green eyes flicked around.

[Wendy Berber]

Fine then *She flails her hands angrily, glaring at him as she stalks spindly legged to the bleach bottle. She kneels again and pours a little on her sponge. Straight bleach. It would maybe give her a rash but she wasn't giving him the satisfaction of bullying her, of preventing her from doing the job she'd said she'd do for Danny. She huffs, scrubbing away, skirt tucked under her scrawny thighs, looking up as Laidan enters with a little nod.* um. Hi.

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden]

( Alright, I should of known better than to begin posting. I have to go now. Disregard my post, folks. Catch you all later! )

[Alexander Vaughn]

Actually, when Alex sees Wendy heading for the bleach container, he grabs that, too, and tosses it into the now-empty bucket, keeping it behind him and out of her reach. Wendy's a good three inches taller than him, but she's also spindly as a stork. He seriously doubts she'll be able to wrestle the cleaning materials from him.

"You are such a pathetic little pushover. My god, you're so trampled you've even started trampling yourself. 'We do things that need to be done'? Where do you come up with these ideas? Are you getting paid for this? Is someone going to die if you don't scrub the floor? Do you even live here?"

And, spotting Liadan, he gives her a big toothy grin. "Hi, babydoll. Nice of you to join us. You don't live here either; wanna spend your time cleaning up after those of us that do?"

[Administrator]

Caleb Delacourt-Alden has left Caern & Surrounding Territories

[Wendy Berber]

(bye caleb! :())

[Liadan Whelan]

Lee shoots Alex a grin. And then she just walks up beside him, reaches out a hand to cup his cheek and says, "You are just too adorable."

She then steps up to a sink to wash her hands.

[Wendy Berber]

*She's still for a moment. Biting her lip, eyes shut. Her narrow jaw tense. Thin hands ball into point fists as she stands and glares at Alex.* Please. Give me back. My Cleaning supplies. *She says through clenched teeth, blue eyes burning with something more than dislike. That same look spills over to Laidan as Wendy's eyes flick to her.*

[Alexander Vaughn]

Alex, distracted by Liadan's latest riposte, stares for a second.

Then: "Okay, seriously. Do you have multiple personalities? What should I call this one?"

A second later he wheels back on Wendy. "Why?"

[Wendy Berber]

Augh! So I can keep cleaning the f-floor! *She blusters, reaching for bleach and pail with twiggy arms*

[Liadan Whelan]

Lee rinses the soap from her hands and shakes them out over the sink before wiping them on her jeans. Then she turns and leans back against the sink, thumbs hooked in her pockets. She just chuckles at Alex. Her eyes flick to Wendy reaching out for the bucket and cleaning supplies.

Pushing off the sink, Lee walks back to Alex, grabs him by the collar, and before he gets a chance to wonder what she's going to do to him now, she yanks him in for a kiss.

And takes the bucket.

Shoving him away from her, she holds it out for Wendy. "Here you go, princess."

[Alexander Vaughn]

(erg, sorry, got called off!)

"That's not what I meant. I meant -- mmph." That's about when Liadan yanks Alex in for a liplock so unexpected and out of the blue that he shoves her away almost as fast as she does him. Wendy gets her bucket and bleach back. Liadan gets a baffled stare. And Alex wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.

"What the fuck?"

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy clutches pail and bleach to her chest, startled at the manner in which she got them back. She bites her lip and murmurs.* thanks. *To Laidan, before running water into her bucket a few sinks away. Well out of Alex's immediate reach. Let him deal with the mercurial redhead. She slops some water on her shirt in her haste to get back to cleaning, wishing suddenly she'd known she was going to be cleaning today. The now opaque fabric sticks to thin ribs, but luckily nothing scandalous shows. Spindly kin rinsing out her mop like Alex isn't in the room.*

[Liadan Whelan]

Wendy all but snatches the bucket from Lee's fingers. The redhead offers her a slightly crooked smile before turning back to Alex.

She crosses her arms over her chest and moves to lean a hip against one of the sinks between Alex and Wendy. Tipping her head so she's looking at the man from over her glasses. And then she pouts.

"Aw, you didn't like it? I must be losing my touch."

[Alexander Vaughn]

Alex twists his head on his shoulders, as though to shake some strain off. Then, resettling, he smirks.

"Sorry, babydoll, I guess I just liked you better before you started picking your personality-of-the-day by throwing darts at boards. Anyway, how the hell does letting Princess Peach scrub piss off the floor fit into your whole standing-up-for-the-oppressed worldview?"

[Administrator]

Boy, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Wendy Berber]

*Her shoulders tense, and Wendy's lips draw thin across her face. * I'm cleaning the b-bathroom because I was asked to, and because it needs cleaned. *She mutters quietly, intent on a speck of god knows what that just won't come off the floor. She pushes up her glasses, fidgets with the yellow ribbon around her wrist and sniffs almost haughtily. Wendy was unashamed to be mopping the floor. Alex couldn't shame her.*

[Alexander Vaughn]

"Okay, fine, the bathroom's filthy. But," Alex wheels on Wendy instantly, "why you? You don't even live here. And I'm ninety nine point nine percent sure you're not getting paid. So why are you cleaning up after other people? Why you? Why clean?

"I'm not just getting on your case for shits and giggles here, Peach. Not that that isn't a blast, especially when you start to st-st-st-stammer, but I'm seriously inquiring here: why do you feel like it's your goddamn job to do this when it's ... not?"

[Liadan Whelan]

Lee glances back over at Wendy, then swings around to face Alex again.

Tipping her head to the side, her brows pull together and she frowns. "I don't get it. What's it to you what she or I or anyone else does?"

Before he can respond, her face lights up with a sudden realization. "You like her."

[Boy]

He may not have lived there anymore, but the Brotherhood was still one of the only places he knew where he could get a quick plate of food. That is, as long as he didn't promise to eat around the other patrons. So it was up to the common room with him, along with a plate of fries and a well done burger. He sets it all down in the common room, preparing to dig in.

[Administrator]

Sinclair, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy flinches as she's rounded on, sponge dribbling as her hand closes on it involuntarily.* because it n-n-needs done! I asked if I c-could help. GAH! *She frowns at Laidan and shakes her head from her position on the floor. Alex didn't like her. Alex liked to torment her. She scrubs at him boot prints with a huff.*

[Administrator]

Sinclair has left Caern & Surrounding Territories

[Administrator]

Hatchet, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Liadan Whelan] to Wendy Berber
[please, I'm begging you, her name is Liadan, not Laidan. I usually go with Lee 'cause it's easier on the fingers]

[Administrator]

Hatchet has left Caern & Surrounding Territories

[Administrator]

Sinclair, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Sinclair]

[I'M SORRY I'LL STOP NOW *HYSTERICAL SOB-SCREAM*]

[Liadan Whelan]

[*hands out the black eyeliner*]

[Alexander Vaughn]

Liadan gets a look flatter than Kansas. "Uh. No.

"It matters to me because this 'We're kin, we do SHIT WORK because that's our PLACE' attitude disgusts me." Emphasis makes him nearly shout half the words in his sentence. He's really on a roll now, hands on his hips, getting louder by the second. "What 'needs' to be done does not include scrubbing piss off the floor for no pay. It does not equate slave labor. If you're really so damn charitable that you feel obliged to chip in, get a proper job. Earn money. Hire a fucking maid, someone who's paid to do this sort of thing. There's a difference between scrubbing toilets for a living, or because you live here and made the mess yourself -- and doing it for free because you think it's your fucking duty.

[Sinclair]

[LEAVE. VERACITY. ALO-O-OOONE!]

[Alexander Vaughn]

(*passes the eyeliner*)

[Sinclair]

"Jesus H. Christ, shut up!"

The voice doesn't come from the hallway. It comes from an occupied toilet stall.

[Liadan Whelan]

Lee listens to Alex's rant, nodding occasionally. It really does make sense.

But then she shakes her head. "No. I think you do. You really like her. And I mean like like." She turns to look down at Wendy. "Remember that time in your attic? Of course you do," she adds immediately, shaking her head. "Romeo here wanted me to get those airheads out so he could have you to himself."

[Boy]

Fries. Fries smothered in ketchup. And this burger? This burger is so gonna get it. And...Hmm? He knew that voice. He knew that voice. He definitely knew that voice, and that shout of frustration. Wendy was here. Boy abandons his plate of food, following the voices all the way to the bathroom. He appears in the entrance just in time to catch Liadan's observance. The folded arms come on like a natural reflex.

"Is that right?"

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy starts as a toilet stall yells at them, clutching a sponge to herself. She looks up at Liadan* n-no. *She shakes her head, cheeks turning pink as she swallows and begins to respond, before seeing Boy in the doorway and blushing a further shade of red.*

[Alexander Vaughn]

Alex's head snaps toward the occupied stall. He doesn't miss a beat. "Fuck off, Astaroth, you left my goddamn Xbox on all night!"

He turns back.

"Sure, I would've banged Peach that night if you fuckfaces had been so obliging as to leave," as though this were a foregone conclusion, "but morbid curiosity isn't the same thing as like like." He puts airquotes around that, mockingly. "Sex doesn't require attachment, Babydoll. You of all people oughta know that."

And no, he doesn't give a damn that Wendy's boyfriend has showed up.

[Liadan Whelan]

"Are you trying to insult me?" A reddish brow quirks. "God, you're so fucking cute today, Vaughn. Whatever it is, it's workin' for you, man."

Her dark eyes rake down and back up his stocky figure. "Mm."

[Sinclair]

"That was Joey!" she hollers back. There's a rustle, the sound of a zipper being drawn up, and then the toilet gets flushed.

The tall metal door opens and Sinclair steps out. She's wearing a pair of orange flip-flops, some ragged but dark-washed cutoffs, and a black t-shirt with a white, fuzzy-haired stick figure on it. Above: PEARL JAM in red. Between his feet: ALIVE. It's too big, like many of her shirts, and hangs off of her a bit. Her hair is in a low, scraggly ponytail, would-be or grown-out bangs framing her face. The multiple rings and bars of metal through each ear are visible, and hints at whatever that tattoo on the back of her neck is.

She walks over to the line of sinks, flip-flops slapping against the soles of her feet, shaking her head as she turns on the water and starts to wash her hands. "Jesus, I can't tell if this is all just sexual tension or if you're all really just bitchy."

Says the werewolf pumping soap into her palm and building up a nice thick lather. She hums the ABCs to herself as she scrubs.

[Boy]

Alexander Vaughn. He huffs, and he can suddenly feel the heat in his own breath. His heart in his own chest. What was it about this guy?

"What about consent. You require that, Vaughn?"

[Administrator]

sunglasses, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy scrambles to her feet, cleaning supplies brought with her as she skirts the crowd on her way to Boy. There were too many people in here to get anything done anyway. She swallows and wipes her hands on her skirt.*

[Liadan Whelan]

Lee pushes off from the sink.

"I don't know about you, but I think it's sexual tension. I mean," she walks up to Alex and cups his jaw in one hand, "is this not the cutest face you've ever seen?" She lets go with a little shove. "And that body. Mm. Who wouldn't want to get with this?" Lee slaps him on the ass and heads for the door.

She tries to give Wendy the wide berth the girl obviously wants to keep from her and the other people in the room, but it's hard when she's over by the door. "Don't let him get to you, kiddo."

The redhead exits the bathroom and heads for the common room and throws herself into the corner created by the arm and back of the short side of the sectional.

[Sinclair]

Her eyes flick over to Lee as she grabs on Alex's face. The water is running over her hands now, her fingernails painted an acidic blue that is only a shade or two darker than her eyes. She's wearing her usual eye makeup, dark and smoky and making her look just that much meaner than she should. She turns off the water and goes for a paper towel.

And Lee shoves Alex a little. And slaps his ass. And something sharp and bright flashes in the pupils of Sinclair's eyes, which -- at least today -- doesn't result in another kinfolk not of her tribe getting her hair yanked half out of her scalp. She dries her hands and then tosses the towel in the garbage, watching Wendy and Boy and Alex now. But she blinks at Boy.

"Are you basically asking him if he was going to rape your girl?" she says, sounding... well, perhaps a little surprised.

[Administrator]

paws, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Administrator]

peeky, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Administrator]

peeky has left Caern & Surrounding Territories

[Boy]

"Basically." He says. Boy seems to have struggle to look at anything other than Alexander Vaughn. He turns his head to follow Wendy, but his piercing eyes don't follow suit until the very last minute.

"You alright?"

[Administrator]

Nessa, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Wendy Berber] to Wendy Berber
1

[Wendy Berber]

n-no. I mean yes. I'm ok. *She's beet red, shaky and exasperated, but she's angry rather than sobbing. A step up really. She nods to Liadan as the redhead leaves, frowning at her treatment of Alex despite herself. *

[Alexander Vaughn]

(hey, hold up a sec, lemme sneak a post in.)

[Nessa]

The occasionally quiet Russian kinwoman enters the bathroom; blinking, she takes in a moment all the gathering, then shakes her head.
"Used to be left edge sofa seat was best place here."
She had dressed today, a dove grey skirt with a simple white silk blouse, several fo the buttons of which are left unfastened to riiight about the front bra clasp, some generically thin leather belt, a pair of simple heels. She pulls loose the bindings from her bun, lets her hair do what the hell it wishes to do, where and when, and opens a small makeup case as she inspects her reflection (yes, she has one) in one of the mirrors.

[Alexander Vaughn]

A muscle twitches in Alexander's cheek. Then he draws himself a little straighter, folding his arms across his chest, deliberately lazy. It's hard to say if he's mirroring Boy consciously or not.

"No, you little brat, I was just going to club Peach over the head and drag her back to my cave. By the hair. And maybe along the way I was going to chase down an antelope too, and a six-pack of Heineken to wash it down with." A beat. "What's the matter, having trouble with the thought that your girl might consent to someone else?"

Liadan's smack on the ass doesn't even make him jump. He just sends a dirty look her way as she sidles on out. When he looks back he's just in time to see Wendy go from Cardinal Sin +2 of the Church of Vaughn to Cardinal Sin +1.

"Oh, lovely." There goes that mouth again. "Straight from licking bootheels and scrubbing piss to hiding behind your guard wolf. Way to go, Peach, way to grow a fucking spine."

[Administrator]

paws has left Caern & Surrounding Territories

[Administrator]

Curata, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Boy]

"No." He says, starting out speaking low. "Just having trouble with thinking it'd be you. You're a mean fucker, Alexander Vaughn. I don't know what it is that made you this fucked up, but its ugly and it stinks. Next time you've got a problem with Wendy, why don't you try keeping it to your self."

[Liadan Whelan]

[Goin' home! Thanks for the scene!]

[Administrator]

Liadan Whelan has left Caern & Surrounding Territories

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy's eyes get big behind her spectacles, then narrow.* I was h-helping, because i was asked t-to. And I'm not interested in h-having s-sex with you. And d-don't call B-boy a brat, he's n-not a guard wolf he's my m-m-mate. *She mutters, features tight. Voice an angry squeak*

[Nessa]

The Shadowlord inspects the faces of those present; the only one unfamiliar to her is Wendy. Who is apparently accused of being spineless. Nessa listens while the girl speaks up -sorta- for herself, watches the exchange, hell yes, with interest while she switches gears.

She slicks on a layer of a red lipstick, puts the tube away, and begins unbuttoning her blouse; hasn't far to go. There's a cami under there, silky and light and with enough lace to be everything feminine, which is nice, cause the matte black blade strapped to her waist isn't. The kin spends a few moments removing that, switching it to a thigh holster under her simple grey skirt instead, careful not to run her stockings or the garters holding them up.

[Sinclair]

She's not a peacemaker. She's not a goddamn Philodox and she's glad of it. In her mind, they're all sticks, and they're all in mud, and while she likes mud just fine, she's not interested in just planting herself in it like a glorified garden stake and telling people what to do. A good Philodox is a good Philodox, but she has no aspirations to act like one. She glances at Alex as he answers Boy, and at Boy as he answers Alex, and thinks about the conversation they had in the Park, however brief it was.

He knows what the fuck he's getting into, and if Boy wallops him, then Alex had it coming and he damn well knows it.

On the other hand, she told Dietrich essentially that if he couldn't keep his goddamn Kin in line, she would do the disciplining herself. But on the other hand, neither Gabbie nor Dietrich had rights to get all pissy about some stupid hair-pulling and jaw-snapping if they were going to let her mouth off. On the other hand...

Sinclair shakes her head out of nowhere, blinking her big baby blues as though she just tied a knot in her own skull. She boggles a moment, then throws up her hands. "Alex, you get your face beat in, I've got some more scotch. I'm friends with an alcoholic now," she adds, as though this is cheerful, and heads out of the bathroom. It smells too strongly of bleach, and it's irritating her nose. She glances at Nessa as she leaves, but doesn't pause.

[Alexander Vaughn]

"I'm not gonna get my face beat in," Alex says, ostensibly to Sinclair though his eyes stay on Boy. "The Brat and his mate are peas in a pod, fuckin' spineless. You keep on telling yourself I'm the one that's mean and fucked up, kiddo. And you," that would be Wendy, "you just keep telling yourself this is just me being an ass again, because it isn't at all degrading to scrub someone else's week-old piss off the floor. Without pay.

"I'm gonna go club myself some antelope and drag a nice double-D strawberry blonde back to my lair of mean and evil."

[Nessa]

Her head snaps up, her gaze fastening on Alex's; he never notices her, no reason to think he will this time either. She is neither strawberry blonde nor any cup size remotely approaching Dangerous Delta.
However.
SHOULD he look her way. The Russian is grinning just a little, her eyes hinting at feral, and she does not seem to disapprove of him quite like a woman SHOULD.

[Boy]

"Out." He was talking to Wendy. He was staring at Vaughn sure enough, but neither of them expected him to actually follow through. When Boy steps past her and into the bathroom, standing a few feet away from and staring down Vaughn, it's obvious who he was talking to. Nessa gets a glance too.

"You too. I think you'll have to hold it for a little while."

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy goes. Immediately. Wordlessly. And yes Alex.. Obediently. Out into the commons with her bleach pail and sponge. Once in the Commons proper she sets down the pail and hugs herself.*

[Administrator]

peep, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Nessa]

Nessa goes; not as fast as Wendy, for she has to finish adjusting the knife sheath-- there. Her skirt is lowered over leather garter and sheer stockings and then picks up her little bag, is walking towards the door with a feminine sway of hips, almost as if it was entirely her own decision. Three seconds of movement till she is on her way.

[Boy]

His head rolls to either entrance. Wendy was gone. Nessa was gone. He and Vaughn were still there.

"Alright, man. Sounds like you're just spoiling for this so--" He unfolds his arms just to let one hand reach out, palm up, and beckon him forward. "Lets go."

[Sinclair]

Sinclair is in the common room when Wendy gets out there. She's sprawling in a bean bag chair, legs akimbo, unaware that in the bathroom her Kinfolk and Wendy's Garou are about to... something. She eyes the scrawny woman who has about four inches on her and yet weighs less than she does. Her head cocks to the side. "You cold?"

[Administrator]

Curata has left Caern & Surrounding Territories

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy shakes her head.* n-no. Fine. th-thank you miss. *She's leaning against the wall, nibbling her lip and curled into herself anxiously. A deep breath. Boy was good. He probably wouldn't kill Alex. Not on purpose.*

[Sinclair]

Her eyebrows, darker than her hair, go up. "Thank you for what?" Beat. "Oh, I know. I'll ask another question: are you scared shitless? Do I get thanks for asking that, too?"

[Alexander Vaughn]

"Oho." That motormouth just never shuts up; Alex keeps on commentating, a big shiteating grin on his face. "Damn, son, I think the brat's trying to grow a spine. Hey, you're not doing it right," as the women start filing out, "you're supposed to let them stay and watch while you strut your stuff."

The door shuts behind Wendy. And then Nessa.

"Or try," he adds, a velvety sneer.

And let's get one thing straight here. He's not fearless. He's not as confident as he acts; some would argue what he has is cockiness and arrogance, which is not the same thing as confidence at all. There's a niggle of doubt in his mind, and there's a whole chorus of inner voices screaming at him to abort, stop, quit being such a fucking idiot and think about survival. But the adrenaline's pumping now, and what Boy has is rage, but what Alex has is something perhaps more uniquely human: drive or determination or some sort of primitive ambition to win, somehow, at any cost.

And when the bathroom's emptied of all but himself and Boy, the compact, muscular kinsman isn't smiling anymore. He unfolds his arms, flickers his fingers, and now his eyes are locked and dark, ablaze. They don't flinch like a human's would, and a kinfolk's should. He sizes Boy up for a second. When he comes at the boy-wolf-monster, he drives off his left foot, quick and agile, and comes in swinging.

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 6
Inits +6

[Alexander Vaughn] Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4 (Failure at target 6)
7

[Administrator]

Charlie, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Nessa]

Nessa also slips into the commons room, moves towards a bag along one wall, the better to swap out dull grey pumps for something more interesting. Evening, though its not quite six yet, and evening comes later these days. Still.
There's a martini on the table too.
Correction. Was. Her head turns that way to eye the missing liquor and absent olive. "Fuck."

[Wendy Berber]

Yes. *She frowns and shakes her head.* um. n-no. *Wendy swallows, and looks to Nessa in mild relief. She'd made it out.*

[Alexander Vaughn]

(declare!
ICly:
1a. headbutt!
b. instep stomp.

mechanistically, just a split punch and a kick)

[Sinclair]

Her eyebrows shift. Once both up, now she quirks one inward and down. "Which is it?"

[Boy]

Action:

1a: Block
1b: Block again

[Charlie]

Footsteps sound out on the stairs as the rooftop access door creaks open and admits a solid body inside. Boots pad rather than thump, whoever is moseying downstairs keeping to the edge of the stairs and moving respectfully, and after several seconds and a story's descent, the gangly, curly-haired kid from Room 3 appears in his usual get-up. His t-shirt is eggplant today. There's a white paint stain on the hem. It's been there for a while.

An empty water glass dangles from his right hand, and his left creeps up to scritch at the back of his head as he takes in the Galliard and the two kinswomen camped out in the common room. He raises a hand to wave, then waits for a lull before he addresses Wendy.

"Your stove still working okay?"

[Wendy Berber]

Um. yes, I'm fr-frightened. And um, n-no.. I'm not going to th-thank you for asking. You um, didn't seem to appreciate it last time. *She explains, tensely, nodding*

[Alexander Vaughn] Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 4, 5, 6, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)
(headbutt, rolled as a punch! dex/brawl -2 (split))

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 5, 5, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
Roll for Block: Dex+Brawl + Totem Brawl -2

[Alexander Vaughn] Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 4, 5, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
(damage, +1)

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 4, 4, 5, 5 (Botch x 1 at target 6)
Soak +Totem

[Alexander Vaughn] Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 7) Re-rolls: 1
(and a kick)

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 4, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
Block -3

[Alexander Vaughn] Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 5, 6, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
(damage, str+1 +1)

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 4, 6, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 6 at target 6)
Soak

[Sinclair]

"What're you so scared of?" she asks curiously. There's none of Alex's harrying in her tone, or her expression, but that doesn't make her any easier to deal with. Alex intentionally goes after her, badgers her but Sinclair's curiosity is hard to stand up under, though. She looks too intently at the scrawny Glass Walker that she doesn't know is a Glass Walker, the cant of her head and angle of her shoulders making it look like she's considering lunging at her.

[Nessa]

She scowls as she walks over to the empty glass and lifts it to the light.
Hell yeah, she's checking for prints.

[Alexander Vaughn]

This is not the blind flailing and bashing of an untrained barfighter. There's purpose and motion in everything Alex does, strength and precision. He knows how to fight; Boy can see this immediately.

Whatever the hell he's trained in, though, headbutting and instep-stomping are not, in any known modern sport, allowable attacks.

"Oh, what is this," Alexander scoffs when all Boy does is block ... and block again, "passive resistance? Civil disobedience? Don't waste my fucking time."

[Wendy Berber]

Um. i d-don't like.. v-violence. really. I get a little scared. is all. Miss. *She tilts her head, just enough to flash throat. A swallow as she wrings her hands and listens to the sounds of combat echoing in the washroom. She goes a little paler under her spectacles.*

[Administrator]

the devil, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Boy]

"C'mon Vaughn." He spits back, mouth and nose blooded by the head butt. "I'm not gonna lay down for you, but how often do you get to kick the shit out of a trueborn? That's what you wanted, isn't it? C'mon, Big man. HURT ME!"

And again his open hands becon him forward.

[Nessa]

"You act like small child, when is not needful to be so scared. Is only fight. I doubt Alex will seriously hurt your mate."
Oddly, her words are harsh-- but her tone is gentle. Concern is visible on her face. "You remind me of person beaten too many times, can't quite recover from it. I used to be same way. Long, Long ago."
Yep. Print. Her eyes narrow at the glass, and she takes it carefully to the side table to start lifting the fucking print. No shit.

[Charlie]

Either he wasn't loud enough to be heard over the brawling in the bathroom, or Wendy is too engrossed in the conversation with the Galliard to look over. He can't say as he'd blame her. The girl was terrified of her own shadow heading back to the pack house to fix her pilot light the other night; she looked as though she was trying to disappear when Marrick showed up after the stove was turned back on.

That stove light can't possibly be a concern for her right now, so Charlie just folds his lips into a straight line and walks towards the hallway.

[If y'all missed my entrance, it's at 5:57.]

[Nessa]

She stares at Charlie for a moment and his hands, compares the size of his fingers visually to those who stole her drink.
No.
Well. Maybe not.
This is a suspicious Shadowlord at the moment.

[Wendy Berber]

Oh um.. hi ch-Charlie. s-sorry. um.. y-yes. Its working. Th-thank you. Very m-much. *She gives him a tiny frightened flash of teeth. A smile? She swallows and looks to Nessa. Nodding. *

[Wendy Berber]

I'm s-scare for Alex.. n-not for Boy.

[Sinclair]

"My name's not Miss," Sinclair says, a little too sharply. "And what the snatch, you look older than me. My name's Sinclair." She pauses there, frowns. "Call me Sinclair, all right?"

Leaning back again, Sinclair straightens her legs out, flip-flops sliding across the thin carpeting. Nessa chimes in saying that she doubts Alex will seriously hurt Boy, and Sinclair barks out a harsh laugh. "Oh, for fuck's sake. Alex could crack his skull on the side of the sink and the dude'll be fine by tomorrow, you know? Oh boo hoo, poor werewolf."

She glances at Charlie, but she's currently more focused on Wendy. Which can't be comfortable for Wendy. Sinclair seems jazzed up. Maybe it's the fight in the bathroom, the noise of it, getting her riled. Maybe it's just the fact that she's Sinclair. She sits up straighter again, unable to keep still. "Don't be scared for Poor Widdle Awex, either. He only gets what's coming to him. You think I'd be out here if I thought he wasn't fucking earning this?"

[Alexander Vaughn]

How often do you get to kick the shit out of a trueborn...

And Alexander grins suddenly: sharp, vicious, smug. His hands drop to his side; he comes out of his ready posture like that, cracking his neck sharply to the side.

"Why don't you ask your packmate? She had a front-row seat. Right before she let me fuck her senseless."

(just gonna keep inits and go ahead and declare first: 1. shoving Boy back, then turning to head out.)

[Administrator]

paws, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Charlie]

The weight of Nessa's eyes on him becomes heavier when Wendy speaks up to thank him for fixing the pilot light, and he slows down when he realizes that the Lord woman is investigating something. His brow kinks out of curiosity, and since it doesn't sound like he ought to try and get in the bathroom right now anyway, he moseys over to the table where Nessa is examining her drink.

His eyes flick to the empty glass, then back up to her face.

"It might work better if it's full," he says.

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 8)
((Say what bout my sister?))

[Nessa]

Has to take a pass on Sinclair's comments, in fact, the Shadowlord kin doesn't look right at her either, aovids any interaction with what is becoming well-practiced skill.
"Why are you scared? Boy is fairly nice. Do you think him rampaging out of control? Isn't he your mate?
Well. Rampaging out of control DOES have sexy moments, but honestly."
She connsiders the ways she herself learned to get stronger. No. Not gonna recommend them.
"Try meditation, Girl. Is better than shivering like kicked puppy. Oh, or better yet, learn to handle deadly weapons. NO i don't mean Boy. I mean like.. guns or knives or martial arts or something. So that you aren't defenseless all over. Will help. "
Charlie come sup to her and examines the martini glass too. "Was full. Isn't Now. " She flicks some rather extremely pale powder from her cosmetics bag over the fingerprint, and then fishes around in the bag for something else useful.

[Boy]

Declare:

1 Wilpower to activate Resist Pain
Action: Tackle Vaughn
Rage 1: Punch
Rage 2: Punch S'more

[Wendy Berber]

Ok. *Wendy is trying to listen, brows pinched in worry as the full force of Sinclair's attention makes her all but squirm. But this kin lived with Marrick and as impressive as Sinclair's ragey aura may be. Marricks was worse. Wendy takes a dep breath and flicks her eyes to Nessa.* I will be getting a gun. D-D-deitrich um, suggested one. *She swallows and nods, blushing a little. Then adds.* the c-c-c-condensation on your g-glass might m-m-m-mess with the pr-printing powder...

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 5, 5, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
Rolling for tackle

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 6, 6, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
Rolling to stay up (dex+ Athletics) 1 wp

[Nessa]

Condensation??
Oh. "Mm Is not there on base. But da, better get quick. " She does, too, a skill she'd learned rather early on since fingerprints and having a selection of them were so useful.

"I like mine. Glock .45. Don't know why I waited so long to get it, saved our lives several days ago. John helped me pick out, taught me to use. Hmm I should take him vod- no. Ahh. Something else."
Lush fenrir kinfolks don't need more liquor!

"You are forensics person then?"

[Sinclair]

The comparisons that could be made between Marrick and Sinclair are numerous. They are both blonde-haired, though Sinclair's is dirtier. They are both blue-eyed, though Sinclair's are paler. They are both fair skinned, though Sinclair is slightly more tan and has no freckles. They are nearly the same height, and they are both clearly strong and athletic in body type. They are both, to put it simply, beautiful young women. Sinclair's a little older, though, and she wears vicious-looking eye makeup to take away from her otherwise girl-next-door features.

She has a bar through the cartillage of her right ear and a small hoop with a red bead on it. Her left ear is adorned with four small, similar hoops, the one in her lobe bare and the others bearing a single bead each: blue, yellow, black. There's more, but it's all covered for now. Sinclair doesn't have Marrick's down-home accent. She's a city girl, a city wolf, and yet there is something incomprehensibly savage about her. It isn't Rage. It's something else entirely, as though she is that much more likely to forget her humanity even when she's in human skin, doing human things.

Being in a room with Sinclair is not unlike being in a cage with an animal who is considering eating you for breakfast. That's not too uncommon, with Garou; what sets her apart is that she gives off the impression that she might just actually do it if you show the sort of weakness that Wendy is showing now.

Sinclair gets to her feet, flowing up into a standing position from the bean bag chair as though she hasn't ever had an awkward day in her life. She looks away from Wendy and over to Nessa, though, cocking her head. "That dude," she says, presumably meaning Thornton, "is totally turning into an alcoholic, man. Maybe you should get him, like, some porn. That is totally a way safer addiction."

[Alexander Vaughn] Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 4, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 1 at target 9) [WP] Re-rolls: 1
(reflexive stay-up:
dex+ath vs diff 9, 1WP spent.

changing declare:
1a
b - two punches, +1diff on both.)

[Alexander Vaughn] Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 7)
(first punch, -2 dice, +1 diff)

[Alexander Vaughn] Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 4, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
(damage, +2)

[Alexander Vaughn] Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 3, 3, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 7) Re-rolls: 1
(second, -3 dice, +1 diff)

[Alexander Vaughn] Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
(damage, +2)

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 7, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
First soak

[Alexander Vaughn] Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 5, 8 (Failure at target 6)
(alex's soak 1)

[Alexander Vaughn] Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 3, 4 (Botch x 1 at target 6)
(alex's soak 2)

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
Second Soak

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
Rage actions

First punch

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
Damage +3

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 4, 5, 5, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
Second Punch

[Wendy Berber]

n-no. not r-really. I read alot. *She murmurs, looking to Charlie, nibbling her lip.*

[Wendy Berber]

*The spindly kin winces at the sound of a beating in the bathrooms.*

[Nessa]

Porn. Hm. The kin might be avoiding speaking to or looking at Sinclair, but damned if she doesn't seem to consider the option, file it away for later.
Hmmm.

"Reading bores me. Too still. Cecil has different Glock, and he is much better with aiming than I am. Calmer too. Is this ahh Dietrich to teach you to shoot as well?"

Done with the glass now. She eyes the burger and fries which have been abandoned, and ponders how martini might taste with a burger and fries.

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 4, 4, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
Second Damage - For Real real

[Charlie]

Charlie nods at Nessa's assessment, but doesn't question her further on the matter of the missing alcohol. He squints a bit watching her dust her glass, as though attempting to figure out the motivation behind smearing makeup on an otherwise clean piece of stemware, but he doesn't ask her what she's doing; Wendy interjects a moment later, and he sniffs, checks the nonexistent level of water in his glass, and turns back towards the hallway.

It wasn't a considerable amount of Rage to begin with, but it's got to be easier once he goes into the hallway.

The fight is still going on in the bathroom, and he must be figuring he can just navigate around the two of them. Without gawking or stopping to engage the combatants, Charlie listens for the sounds of bones breaking or skulls cracking as he goes to the sink and fills up his glass.

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy shrugs* I um. I don't know. m-maybe. I think so.

[Alexander Vaughn]

When Boy suddenly launches a tackle, Alexander keeps his footing -- barely -- and launches two punches at the young Philodox, both of which all but bounce off Boy's preternaturally tough skull.

And then -- he starts laughing.

And he laughs when the first punch blackens an eye, and he laughs harder -- a hard, jagged sound that's all mean pleasure and no humor -- when the second rattles his goddamn brains in his skull, slams him back against the wall.

"Fuck. That's fucking awesome. You dance around when it's your so-called girlfriend's name on the line, but I remind you I fucked your packmate and -- shit, look at you, man! So fucking riled I gotta wonder about you two!"

A mouthful of blood, spat out on the floor that Wendy was trying so hard to clean earlier. Alexander shakes his head clear, and then he launches another shiteating grin at Boy.

"Well come on, what else you got? You better crack my skull harder. I still remember what a hot fuck your packmate was. Did I tell you she stops by every other week or so? Mm, that pussy, man."

[Sinclair]

Rolling her shoulders back, hearing things bounce around in the bathroom, Sinclair exits the common room, turns a corner, and heads back in there. She stops in the doorway right around the time when Alex is telling Boy that 'she' stops by every other week or so and Mming 'her' pussy.

She looks at Boy. She doesn't say a word.

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 4 (Botch x 2 at target 8)
(Seriously, stop talking about my sister)

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 7 (Failure at target 8)
(Cuz the Mod Said so)

[Alexander Vaughn] Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1 (Botch x 1 at target 6)
7!

[Sinclair] Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2
[Init + 8]

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4
6

[Charlie] Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 6
[Oh okay. +6.]

[Sinclair]

[Action Order:

Sinclair
Boy
Alex

Declare in reverse!]

[Sinclair]

[Repost:

Charlie
Sinclair
Boy
Alex]

[Charlie]

[Nothing exciting, just coming around the row of mirrors.]

[Alexander Vaughn]

(declare: continue snarking, and totally kicking boy in the face if alex gets the chance/boy comes within range!)

[Nessa]

Nessa eyes the back of Sinclair when she leaves, of Charlie too, then stands to gather her things and head out.
"Good luck with gun thing. If not Dietrich, ask John, he is cop, Fenrir kin, good man. Distracting him would be good about now, anyways."

Out the door and down the stairs...

[Nessa]

(goood luck!)

[Administrator]

Nessa has left Caern & Surrounding Territories

[Boy]

(declare: KILL THE FUCKER! Make that, move to defensive (Block whatevers coming) or back away)

[Sinclair]

[

[Wendy Berber]

Ok. um. Goodnight! *And suddenly Wendy is alone in the commons. She moves to the doorway, listening and picking up her bleach bucket. She lingers on the outside, worry twisting thin features.*

[Boy]

Changing Declaration: Punch Vaughn's lights out.

[Sinclair]

Sinclair sees Boy's eyes flash, sees him start to lunge as Alex's mouth keeps running, and she sees -- or hears, or remembers -- Charlie: "Shut him up!" she shouts to the guy from Room Three, and rushes for Boy.

[Declare: Body Tackle Boy.]

[Charlie]

[Reflexive: Get around sinks. Action: Shut him up! (Grapple/Put hand over mouth. I'll figure out mechanics!)]

[Charlie] Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Brawl+Strength: Grapple!]

[Sinclair] Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 6, 6, 9, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 7) Re-rolls: 4
[Dex+Brawl: Tackle]

[Sinclair] Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 4, 4, 6, 8, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Dex + Athletics: Stay Up!]

[Sinclair] Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Damage from Tackle. Pulling at 3.]

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
Soak

[Boy] Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 5, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
Are you threatening me?

[Sinclair]

That mouth on Alex just won't stop running. He smears Boy's sister, though Sinclair doesn't know that it's Boy's sister, doesn't really know what the hell has the Uktena Philodox so pissed off that he looks like he's about to try and throw Alex through a wall, but soon as she sees that look --

(she knows that look)

-- she shouts for Charlie to stop the thing that is making Boy so pissed off. Namely: Alex's stupid stupid mouth. And Charlie complies, grabbing the kinsman from behind and clapping a hand firmly over his mouth, getting his hand nicely bloodied. Sinclair rushes for Boy, faster than she looks. Stronger than she looks. Hell. Sinclair moves like her totem, a whirlwind of sheer destructive power. She slams her shoulder into Boy's thin chest with all the momentum she built up over a very short distance, slamming him to the tiled floor hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

What's startling is how much control she shows, despite that. She could have cracked his skull against that tile. She didn't. She remains standing with a surreal grace, like the air itself is holding her up. Alex is shut up. Charlie holds onto him. Boy is on the ground, and she's standing between him and Vaughn now, her pale eyes flashing.

This has got to piss Vaughn off somethin' fierce.

[Wendy Berber]

*She cant stay still. Bucket in hand, arms curled round herself, she paces in the hallway like a stick figure windup toy*

[Administrator]

Boy has left Caern & Surrounding Territories

[Alexander Vaughn] Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 1 at target 7) Re-rolls: 1
(alex: wtf! change action to elbowing charlie!

+1 diff, rolled as a punch
-2 dice (health penalty))

[Alexander Vaughn] Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 4, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
(damage!)

[Charlie] Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 4 (Failure at target 6)
[Was that a breeze I felt?]

[Charlie]

The kid had come into the bathroom to get a glass of water and make sure no one's cranial contents were smeared on the nice tile floor. He'd managed to fill the glass up, had even turned the faucet up, but the second the blonde got him in his sights and asked--no, it was more like an order--him to shut the pugilistic kinsman up his priorities changed.

With a clatter of plastic glassware on the countertop, Charlie whips around the row of sinks and stoppers the already battered kinsman's jaws, holding him tightly and not appearing overly concerned that he gets blood on his hand. It makes it harder to keep his hand in place, but the kid manages somehow. He's taller and heavier, somehow, than the guy who was flapping his gums at Boy.

He grits his teeth when Boy hits the ground, but he doesn't say anything or let go. An elbow hits him in the spleen, and he flinches, but he doesn't loosen his grip until the blonde tells him to.

[Alexander Vaughn]

That this pisses 'Vaughn' off something fierce...

...is the understatement of the century.

Rather battered, and clearly on the losing end of this particular fistfight, Alexander nonetheless slams an elbow back into whoever-the-fuck-was-grabbing-him's ribs. Seriously; he is sick of getting grappled when he's trying to have a fight. Or pick one. Or snark. Or something.

And he'd tell them that, too, except whoever-the-fuck also has a hand over his mouth. And what comes out is:

"Mmm mmh mnh mmgg MN, MM-MHR-MMH-MHR! Mn mmnn nnhh mnh MMMRNH mm-mmh mhh mmhhmn!"

[Sinclair] Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 6, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Wits + Enigmas: Whatchoo say?]

[Charlie] Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 6 (Failure at target 6)
[Enigmas+Wits: I Wanna Play!]

[Wendy Berber]

*She hears mumbling, and hopes to hell no one's shattered anyone's jaw. She slides down the wall and sits around the corner in the hallway, bleach at her feet. They'd never ask her to help out again at this rate.*

[Sinclair] Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 2, 5, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[WP: ExCUSE me?]

[Administrator]

Boy, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Sinclair]

When Alex yowls against Charlie's hand, Sinclair whips around as though she can actually understand him. Her pale eyes narrow. "Let him go," she says levelly -- a little too lightly -- to Charlie. A little too sing-song.

[Administrator]

Peeky, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Charlie]

Let him go.

Charlie drops his hands and arms from Alex, stepping back and idly wiping blood on his shirt.

[Boy]

He was pinned down, and while he wasn't talking his breathing spoke volumes. Angry huffing and frustrated panting, and still he was glaring past the girl on top of him, directing hate through his eyes at Vaughn.

[Alexander Vaughn]

"Fucker!" he spits almost before Charlie's hand is off his mouth. "What is this, pacifist hell? Stay the fuck out of this, Sinclair. This isn't your fucking fight and I don't need your fucking help. You too, you ugly little shit."

That would be Charlie. Apparently Alex is too riled up to think up nicknames.

[Wendy Berber]

*The skinny kin girl listens, and she can't help but feel this is quite her fault somehow, even if she knows logically its not. Her head is ducked, and she wrings out her wet t-shirt over and over again. Anxious in the hallway.*

[Sinclair]

She may as well have forgotten about Boy at this point. The weakest one in the room is Alex. He's not a wolf. He's injured. He smells like blood. Prey animal or not, something about this entire situation causes a spike of reaction in her that has nothing to do with defending the innocent, protecting the kin, or appearing honorable in the eyes of other Garou. She tips her head to the side.

"I wasn't protecting you, dipshit," she says levelly, and walks out of the bathroom.

[Boy]

Eventually he stands, raking a hand through his hair and sighing. This wasn't the way he wanted things to turn out.

Vaughn gets another hot glance, but he just shakes his head and moves to exit the bathroom.

[Alexander Vaughn]

Alexander spits another mouthful of bloody saliva out onto the bathroom tile, glaring at Sinclair's back as she leaves.

"That was a nice little chat, kiddo." His eyes turn back to Boy only after the Galliard's out of sight; his mouth starts running long before then. Of course it does. Alex is never one to leave without a parting shot. Listen to him now, talking like he won something, somehow. "You ever wanna discuss your sister again, you know where I live."

[Sinclair]

Leaving the restroom, Sinclair glances at Wendy for a moment, dimly able to hear Alex still jabbering. She waits for him to get hit again, wondering if she's going to end up right back in there again, which means that she'll never get back to her laptop. "So you're mated to Boy, right? Ain't he Uktena?" Beat. "You don't look Uktena. Or smell it."

[Charlie]

The ugly little shit stops himself from laughing at the moniker, and it isn't until Sinclair and Boy leave the bathroom that he starts around the sinks again, intent on picking up his glass. When the guy opens his mouth again, he doesn't have much luck smothering his reaction: he snorts, but doesn't say anything. He picks up his water and walks towards his room.

[Wendy Berber]

*She nods her head, completely rattled.* I'm g-g-glasswalker kin Mi-uh-S-sinclair. *Wendy stands up to her full spindly 6 feet.*

[Administrator]

Peeky has left Caern & Surrounding Territories

[Administrator]

Nessa, welcome to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Now)

[Sinclair]

Her eyebrows hop up; she tilts her head back to look up at Wendy. "Hey, cool. So am I." Beat. "So's Alex. Did you know that?"

She squints. "Does he know that?" Sinclair shakes her head. "Doesn't matter. Hey, I, uh... kinda... tackled your dude in there, but like... I didn't mean anything bad by it, y'know? I'm not just gonna go around bodychecking people to get myself off, y'know?"

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy nods, paling further when Sinclair says she's a Glasswalker.* is.. ev-everyone Ok? I hear Alex t-talking but.. um.. that doesn't m-mean anything. Really.

[Boy]

Boy opens his mouth, intending to tell Vaughn where he could stick his little chats, and immediately closes it again. He just shakes his head and mutters 'Broken' before finally exiting.

In the hallway he spots Wendy and Sinclair, and approaches them, but says nothing.

[Administrator]

Nessa has switched to Caern & Surrounding Territories (Night)

[Sinclair]

Sinclair snickers. "No, Alex talking doesn't usually mean anything," she says charmingly, a glowing smile spreading across her lips. It bares her teeth. Someone got that girl braces when she was young, or took her to the dentist often; she's got the mouth of a movie star, even if her two front teeth are a little on the prominent side.

When Boy comes out, she looks over. "You know, I think just to piss him off, you should fight me instead of Alex whenever he's being a cumstain. How's that sound?"

[Wendy Berber]

B-Boy!? *Wendy's forgotten about her bucket of cleaning supplies, even mostly forgotten about Sinclair as she frets over the Uktena teenager. Her hands wringing in her shirt.* Are you o-okay?

[Alexander Vaughn]

And the bathroom empties out. And people are still talking in the hall, but Alexander doesn't give a damn. In his possibly twisted, possibly broken little worldview, he won that round. Then again, in his possibly twisted, possibly broken little worldview, he always wins. That's the whole fucking point.

There's a big mirror over the double-row of sinks. Alexander examines his shiner for a moment, then bends down to rinse his bloody mouth at the tap. He washes his hands, his face, fingers his black eye again, and then heads out the south end of the bathroom, whistling again.

[Alexander Vaughn]

(folks! i gotta go home. thanks for the RP -- i had a blast!)

[Administrator]

Alexander Vaughn has left Caern & Surrounding Territories

[Administrator]

Charlie has left Caern & Surrounding Territories

[Boy]

Boy nods, but avoids Sinclair's eyes. If their was humor in her statement it was wasted on him. Wendy gets a similar nod, and perhaps less of a retreating glance. He didn't look as angry as he had a moment ago. He didn't look like something bristling with Rage, or like someone who'd just stomped most of the shit out of a shit talker, but quite a ways from all.

In fact he looked, quite oddly, ashamed. And maybe Vaughn was right. Maybe Boy did lose that one.

"I uh...I think i ought to just go home."

[Sinclair]

Wendy's fretting makes Sinclair roll her eyes. She at least has the good grace to turn her head to the side, but it doesn't do anything to conceal her opinion of the beanpole's concern for Boy. "Whatever," she mutters, either immune to Boy's evident shame or simply indifferent to it. She turns to walk back towards her room, crowing: "Why... so... serious?!"

[Sinclair]

[Thanks for the RP, all! That was fun. *L*]

[Wendy Berber]

Let go home. * Wendy nods. She winces and tenatively touches Boy's arm.* K-kay? I'm sorry.

[Administrator]

Sinclair has left Caern & Surrounding Territories

[Administrator]

peep has left Caern & Surrounding Territories

[Boy]

He huffs, wiping off a bloody nose.

"Why are you sorry? I'm the one that has to tell the others what I did. We're supposed to protect kin.."

And this is one time she doesn't get a hug or a squeeze of the shoulder. Boy just starts heading for the exit.

"That includes Alexander fucking Vaughn."

[Boy]

(WEE! Thanks for...uh...watching. Pervs. =_=)

[Administrator]

Boy has left Caern & Surrounding Territories

[Wendy Berber]

*Wendy swallows, watching him head off without her. Somehow.. this had gone very very wrong. She rubs a hand underneath her glasses, determined not to compound things by crying as she's left behind. She picks up her cleaning supplies and makes to return them silently to Danny, before fleeing the brotherhood herself.*

jello.

[Marrick] Marrick Fisher needed a job. A real job. A job that gave her consistent pay and didn't consist of her having to threaten to beat someone's face in for paying her seventy-eight cents to a man's dollar.

She had one hundred twelve bucks in her pocket and her knuckles ached subtly at whatever point she had made. That one hundred was traded for seventy-two, and the Fury got herself a pair of nice pants and a nice shirt at Target. Because, as we all know, Target was infinitely classier than Wal Mart. That forty-something dollar outfit [Oh, and socks, because she needed socks desperately, and plyers, because she lost her old one, and a can of WD-40 because everything in the pack house squeaked and it was enough to drive her to madness] was shoved into a twenty-something dollar backpack that she's had since middle school.

This working for half wages wasn't working for her, so instead she had chosen to walk to the park. Marrick made her way down the street, past the south side of it and onward. There were things that she needed to explore, and the entirety of the south side was one of them. She passed by trashcans, anemic trees-

And gyms with vaguely familiar logos.

[Alexander] (sorry guys, i'm slow, at work, and easily distracted!)

The gym's logo should look vaguely familiar; Alexander has several shirts and shorts and sweatshirts bearing it. And why look, there's the jackass himself, in the flesh and large as life, leaning against the brick wall outside Tribull with one foot cocked up, sole of his shoe flat against the wall. Another man might've been out for a smoke, but Alex doesn't smoke. Bad for your health, and all.

No, he's just ... standing out here. He's barechested, in loose boxing shorts, flushed from exertion, sweaty, muscles pumped. He has fingerless MMA gloves on, a mouthguard in his hand, and a bruise on his cheek. He all but stinks of bad mood and bad temper.

[Liadan] Fresh from the showers, Líadan Whelan stands in the doorway to one of the classrooms. The man she's talking to is several inches taller than she is, leanly muscular, and somewhat older if the short cropped salt-and-pepper hair is any indication. Lee's red hair, recently given a fresh coat of vibrant red, is wet and twisted up with a clip at the base of her skull. She's wearing her street clothes, jeans and a light blue tee, a pair of brown Chuck's with a white floral pattern on her feet. There's a gym bag slung over her shoulder.

As she speaks to the man, she doesn't stand close, doesn't laugh and give him coy looks over the rims of her glasses, doesn't reach out to flirtatiously swat at his muscular bicep. The two are talking intently about classes. After several weeks of basic beginner courses covering various martial arts, Lee is looking to focus on kickboxing.

The conversation ends with Lee heading to the lobby to sign up for classes starting next week. It's a weird thing for her to think about, taking the classes, learning how to fight. Learning how not to die pathetically. She pushes through the main entrance to the outside, smiling a little to herself.

She sees Alexander from the corner of her eye, turns to look at the big, sweaty ball of attitude, and the smile vanishes. There's a brief pause as she considers engaging him. It lasts about half a second and she continues walking forward, in the direction of the slim blonde in the forty-something dollar Target outfit.

[Marrick] Ahh, behold, the Glass Walker jackass in his natural habitat. Observe as the male breathes and seethes and takes up the space afforded to him, and some of the space afforded to others. Like it was his domain. So, there he was, witha bruise on his cheek, mouthguard in hand, smelling like sweat and a bad mood, and Marrick's brain-to-mouth filter wasn't working today.

"Got a halfway decent one," she said, indicating the the bruise. "What's the other guy look like?"

She stood with her weight planted, thumbs looped through her belt loops and she looked from Alex to... to... wow. Liadan was tall. With her here, Marrick was officially the smallest person standing around at a little over five and a half feet tall. Her hair was in a half-assed ponytail, and the red head who bled Fianna blood and strength and something was headed over. Marrick took her in for a moment, from head to toe, and whatever cliched direction she could look in.

It took a moment before she realizing she had met this woman before. The phrase mah bitches came to mind, it mentally made her twitch, then it was replaced with Chaucer.

Marrick remembered Lee.

[Alexander] Alexander's glowering stare burns briefly at Lee, then at Marrick. For a moment they might think he's going to ignore them and keep on sulking over whatever the hell has him in such a mood. Then he turns his head to the side, spits blood through his teeth -- must've cut the inside of his lip too, mouthguard or not -- and then gives them a big fat smile.

"Why, Callisto," he says. "And Babydoll, no less. Have you two met? By rule of transitivity you've fucked each other."

What a charming, chivalrous guy Alexander is. And then Marrick asks about the other guy. Alexander doesn't answer for a moment. From the other side of the building, Tribull's back door on Lake Shore Drive, comes the sudden diminishing wail of a siren. Sounds like an ambulance headed for Northwestern Memorial. Coincidence? We think not.

"Worse," he replies. This time the smile is sharkish, but it's genuine. "I'm supposed to be taking ten to cool the fuck off. And no more sparring for me today. Apparently I play too rough."

[Boy] ((You folks mind if I join in?))

[Marrick] (go for it!)

[Liadan] Lee turns, looks Marrick up and down at the mention of the rule of transitivity. There's an edge to the grin she flashes him. “Oh, Vaughn, how I've missed that wit.”

She adjusts the bag so it hangs across her torso. Her head cocks to the side at the sound of sirens. “Wow, you? Play rough? Psh.” She waves a dismissive hand before hooking her thumbs into the pockets of her jeans. Something about this asshole just keeps making her feel stand-offish, despite knowing she will probably never be able to take him in a fight.

“What are you all dolled up for?” This to Marrick, who Lee now looks up and down, ostensibly to take in the outfit.

[Boy] Boy didn't have a job. He had things he did on occasion that kept him busy, and people he talked to behind closed doors and would disappear when those doors were open. Wendy had a job. Marrick had something like a job. After a full week of being indoors, resting, hardly moving, Boy would have running.

And today his running had taken him through the park, chasing his own thoughts and finding places that he almost recognized in this still strange city. It was so much easier in his new shoes, clean new red Chuck Taylors that weren't really for running, but were far more durable and comfortable than his previous mis-matched, salvation army pair. He stopped just beyond the south entrance and admired the fact. Things must have been good at this new pack house of theirs.

[Marrick] "Wow, we fucked and we talked 'bout Chaucer. Was it good for you?" her voice was flat.

Transitivity, she thought. And, with that, the Fury logged the word away. She wasn't sure if she liked it yet, but it was something to be noted. Once upon a time, Marrick had taken a science course. Once upon a time, Marrick slept through that science course and was passed because she was on the track team.

Oklahoma was a wonderful place to be an athlete.

And she didn't think about the other guy looking worse, and she didn't hide the fact that a smile came to her face, somethign genuine that came out of hearing of bloodshed and hearing an ambulance head off. She didn't fgeel particularly bad about this, and maybe she should have, but as it stood, the Fury just grinned something too sharp and too carnal. She didn't have it in her to fake disdain.

"Ain't that you play rough, it's that other folks just can't take it," she said. "'sides, ain't like you bit the guy."

And then? Back to Lee

"Out job huntin'... sick of th'docks an' Home Depot. Figured I'd wash dishes or somethin'... but aparently you can't wear flannel to pick up job applications."

And, well, the rage, the Rage, the general ferociousness and primal something about her, best characterized by her earlier grin, was something that kept her from interviews for even contract labor.

[Boy] He threw his head in one direction. The usual crowd of people. He panted. He threw his head in the other direction. Another crowd of people. Only this time there's a more to the familiarity than 'Oh, those are Chicagoans.' This time it was more like 'Oh, that's my sister.'

Boy brought up the bottom of his shirt to his face, leaving an inverted silhouette of sweat. He headed over toward Marrick amiably, but stopped when he realized she was talking to someone. Who..? Wait, was that... Vaughn.

He headed over toward the group, this time considerably less amiable.

[Alexander] Transitivity. Quid pro quo. Two new terms Marrick has now in her arsenal, one of which she's already turned around on Alex.

"You're too intense to hold down a job," he points out, unvelcroing his gloves and pulling them off, flexing his fingers, giving his palms room to breathe. "You should just get into amateur prizefighting. Tribull just started out a women's div with that other gym crosstown... what's it called... Delano or something. Fights every Saturday, 4pm. Men's division fights at 8pm, primetime."

Looks like Kmart and Target aren't the only places with a glass ceiling.

He flicks a practiced eye over her. "What are you, like... 125, 130lbs?"

[Liadan] She nods when Marrick says she's out job hunting. “Well,” she offers, pointedly ignoring Alex's suggestion that Marrick go into prize fighting, “if you don't mind getting your picture taken, I'm a photographer. I could hire you on sometimes as a model. It's infrequent work, but from what I hear my rates are pretty decent.”

Lee offers a smile of greeting when Boy walks up.

[Marrick] "One twenty-seven... if I gotta do this shit in jello I ain't doin' it."

She was incredulous for a moment. But... she didn't seem completely turned off by the idea. After a second, she nodded a little and reached back to tighten her ponytail. It made Marrick grin just a tad, then she shook her head.

"How much does it pay?"

And, just about that moment, she noticed Boy. And whatever was there was gone, her attention shifted and she waved a little. Every bit her age, and almost a little excited to see him. Acknowledgment, someone familiar. Someone familial. "Hey!"

Should be enough to get his attention.

And then? Modeling? She looked at Lee, eyes wide and the Fury seemed... well, she seemed surprised. Like Liadan had just told the blonde that she was looking at free work. And, again, the incredulousness came back.

"I don't gotta do that in jello either, right?"

[Boy] ((Sorry folks. Other PC got commandeered.))

[Alexander] (nooo don't leave, just multitask! :D)

[Sinclair] "III got no strings to hold me down, to make me fret, to make me frown --"

It's a beautiful day, the sun is shining, the clouds are just enough to keep it from beating down, the temperature is essentially perfect, and Sinclair is walking along the sidewalk belting out:

"-- da-da-da, can't remember the words, it was a stupid movie a-ny-way!"

with a triumphant finish. Considering the fact that she is belting, more than actually singing, it's evident that she has enough vocal control to project her voice for some distance, so everyone outside of Tribull hears her well before they see her. At least three of them have probably heard her singing in the shower at the Brotherhood of Thieves, and know that how she sounds now is nothing compared to how she sounds when she decides to sing something other than Disney music.

Her hair is up in two high, messy knots, exposing all the various bits of metal in her ears as well as the tattoo on the back of her neck. The smaller hoops along the cartillage of her left ear each bear a small bead: black, yellow, blue. The hoop in her lobe is unadorned. The hoop in her right ear has a red bead, while the bar through the cartillage there simply gleams. There is a dandelion stuck in the right knot of her hair. She is not, for once, wearing the thick eyeliner and mascara she's seen so often wearing -- or applying, leaning over the sink to glare at her reflection in the Brotherhood bathroom.

She hums the song from Pinocchio with an air of consideration as she walks along. She keeps on humming, though with a bit more cheer, when she sees the group right in the middle of her path.

[Boy] (No, I mean the computer I was using got snatched from me. I've changed 'Puters now.)

[Alexander] Alexander blurts out a laugh before he remembers he's in a bad mood and stops.

"Fuck no, no jello. It's serious shit. Nah, I take that back. Bantamweights and flyweights are gonna be mostly uptown office girls looking to blow off a little steam after work. You get in a cage with them and they'll never come back. Might wanna compete up in the featherweight class. 145-155. Those ladies could actually hurt you.

"Payout's usually a couple hundred a fight. Not that many women cagefighting yet though, so you might not get a fight every week. But if you go on to regionals and states it goes up." Shrugging, "You actually have to be good to get that far though. And play by rules. And, y'know. Not bite." He smirks. "Oh, and pick a fight name. I suggest Callisto."

Snorting at Liadan's suggestion, then -- "Modeling? Seriously? Like Aidan?"

And then ... why look, it's the kid from the street the other day. And he doesn't look happy. Which makes Alexander a little happier, perversely. Alex slaps a shiteating grin on his face and straightens up a little. "Hey! It's the boy named Boy! How you doin', man!"

[Boy] Vaughn...Alexander Vaughn...Alexander Vaughn and...Marrick? And that woman that was singing with Hatchet. Alright. Alright, happy face. No, that never works. Just...put it away. Let it go.

"Hey. Hey Marrick."

Liadan gets a polite nod that amounted to the same, and Vaughn...Vaughn.

[Liadan] “Noooooo.” Lee's face scrunches up at the very idea of working with....with jell-o or anything of the sort. “No no no no no. No.” Her head gives a violent shake, as if trying to dislodge an unwelcome image. Not the thought of Marrick in jell-o. That's not an unpleasant image in the slightest. But the thought of making that much jell-o, that is a horrible thought.

At the mention of her kinsman, Lee actually gives a snort of laughter herself. To Marrick she just says, “No, nothing like that. I'll give you my card if you're interested, though.” She's so tired of throwing business cards out into the void. “And if you do the cagefights, well, this could supplement that and you'd make bank.” A shoulder rises and falls in a shrug.

[Alexander] "You probably would make more cash for less effort if you go in front of Lee's digital eye," Alexander puts in. "Especially if you flash your tits."

And then: "HEY!" He bellows this so loud Liadan's ears ring afterward, since he also bellows it over her shoulder. "Hey, ASTAROTH!"

[Marrick] (do you want to punch him in the face? Yes, yes you do... diff 6 +1 (external testes for the lose))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 5, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7)

[Alexander] (block!)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 3, 4, 4, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Alexander] (*scuffs* *pushes that roll under rug*)

[Marrick] "I'll think about it, but couldn't hurt to take your card," she said to Lee. She seemed to consider, and for a moment her attention was diverted by the sound of singing.

Marrick Fisher rolled out of bed at some ungodly hour every morning after getting a lovely, restful, Hellish eight hours of sleep every night. She trudged off to the shower, glared at her reflection while brushing her teeth, and stood under the shower head until she was clean or the water ran cold. Marrick Fisher didn't sing in the shower, the ahroun didn't do anything in the shower except get soggy and occasionally consider skipping breakfast.

Then breakfast.
Then work.

And, sometimes, there was the occasional killing of something that delayed work or the breakfast or the showering. Occasionally, she did hear the singing, and it was... Hey, Sinclair.

You probably would make more cash for less effort if you go in front of Lee's digital eye, especially if you flash your tits.
"Where do you sign up?" she asked Alex. Jaw clenched for a moment, and the air felt a little warmer than it had before. She clenched her fists and, instead of doing what she wanted to do with clenched fists, she folded her arms across her chest.

Oh, look, boy was here. She gave him an upward nod, and it gave her somewhere else to look. The Fury met him halfway there. She unclenched her jaw.

[Boy] Vaughn speaks, Marrick tenses, and even Boy shakes his head, glaring at him.

But then there was his sister, who was as good a distraction as anything.

"Check it out." He says, pointing to the still-bright red sneakers on his feet, noticeably new. "Got some news. You remember that guy--"

And then there's singing. And then there's shouting. What is this guy's problem?

[Liadan] Lee just manages to roll her eyes and swallow an exasperated sigh when Alex practically shouts into her ear. The bellow, coupled with his sudden immediate proximity, make her tense up, and then she takes a step back.

“Hey, watch it, ass.” She reaches into her back pocket, pulls out the wallet full of business cards and hands one to Marrick. “Give me a call if you're interested. Now if you'll excuse me,” her glare is directed at Alex, not that he would care, “I have to be somewhere that isn't contaminated by this douchebag.”

Lee pivots and starts to walk away.

[Sinclair] She can smell the breeding on the Fury, but she knows her. Well. 'Knows' her in the sense that she gives up her chance to play video games far too easily, that she will never get better at Soul Calibur IV if she doesn't play, that she walks around naked and has no intentional marks on her, no chosen ones. They are the same height, their hair is the same color, their eyes are different shades of the same. Freckles. Callisto.

She can smell the breeding on the Fianna, but she doesn't know her. Doesn't know her face or her name but she knows her Tribe, and that is enough to make her vaguely curious, but not as curious as Joey would be. Nobody, Sinclair is convinced, is as curious as her roommate.

She knows who Boy is. Sees him rarely around the Brotherhood, hears his voice so infrequently she couldn't place it in the dark if she had to.

And then there's Alex. Sinclair bursts into an absolutely delighted grin and gives him the finger, which -- if her apparent glee is any indication -- is sort of how she waves hello. "Negative Seven, you fat bastard," she says, as though this is his name, as she strolls on up and drops her arm.

She nods to Marrick and Boy, peers briefly at Liadan, then decides to lean against the wall. She's wearing a pair of almost dangerously short cutoffs, the ends wildly frayed. Her Nikes are the same dark blue and white that they've always been, and the black A-shirt she's got on bares the tattoos and the metal adorning her biceps. Sinclair has obvious muscle tone, athletic rather than bulky, but it's still evident in every move she makes that she's in painfully good shape.

"So, who's holding?" she asks, looking around. "Or... are we all just loitering for our health?"

[Wreck] (Hey folks. I'm looking to throw in a little ST something here. Nothing terribly impressive but if anyone has an issue or wishes to not be involved,then feel free to speak up?)
to Alexander, Boy, Liadan, Marrick, Sinclair

[Alexander] "Negative Seven?" Alexander is puzzled. And then he straightens up. "I'm actually heading back in. It's been twenty fucking minutes. You guys heading back to the Bro' later or what?"

Liadan calls him a douchebag, glares at him. Alexander sends her a vaguely puzzled glance; then he decides whatever, bitch was probably on the rag again. He stuffs his hands back into his fingerless gloves, straps them tight.

[Alexander] (i'm about to head home, actually! may be back on later though.)
to Boy, Liadan, Marrick, Sinclair, Wreck

[Marrick] (I'm cool with it! I get off work at 9:30 so I'll be gone for, like, 10 minutes, but then I'll be back on!)
to Alexander, Boy, Liadan, Sinclair, Wreck

[Wreck] (That's fine on departures. Not going to doing any 'Rawr, kill you all' business right off the bat so easy enough to ditch and re-enter if folks desire. Just wanted to see if folks are ok by it.)
to Alexander, Boy, Liadan, Marrick, Sinclair

[Sinclair] [Not really feelin' it at the moment.]
to Alexander, Boy, Joey, Marrick

[Marrick] Marrick Fisher hasn't intentionally done anything to her body. She doesn't even have her ears pierced; it had been one of those things that they had never done. It had been something her sister Hannah could not have talked her into. At fifteen, it had been a consideration. At eighteen, it had been considered and deigned a liability.

Marrick Fisher had ripped earrings out before. It was not pleasant for the wearer. [Wear hoops and you're giving the girl an opportunity]

"Alex got sent to time out. He wasn't playing nice with his friends."

Straight from her own pre-school report card, but the names were changed to protect the innocent. As she going back to the brotherhood tonight? A slight nod, that yes, she was going to be there. And then the thought was continued. Elsewhere. "See you tonight?"

Then, back to Boy. "What's up with who?"

[Sinclair] Now with 30% more sending-the-PM-to-the-person-it's-meant-for!

[Not really feelin' it at the moment.]
to Alexander, Boy, Joey, Marrick, Wreck

[Sinclair] Sinclair exhales heavily, shoulders dropping, and shakes her head at Alex. "You suck at math when you're drunk almost as bad as you suck at Soul Calibur IV when you're sober," she informs him, glancing at his gloves.

For some reason, she cackles briefly, but that's cut off as Liadan walks away. Sinclair raises one eyebrow high, the other scrunching downward in a totally bewildered look. "Your girlfriends are the sweetest."

Her attention moves, unequivocably, to Marrick and Boy at that point. Alex is going inside after his Time Out, so she leaves him to toddle off and go back to peeing on old ladies or whatever it was he got scolded for. "I remember that guy," she tells Boy. "The one with those two eyes? And the hair?"

[Joey] Grant Park is so freaking fascinating! This is what Joey Oliver thinks as she cuts through on foot. She's wearing boots, jeans, and a tight fitting sleeveless black shirt. A nylon bag containing her precious aluminum bat is strapped to her back.

She walks along the path, looking up at the tall skyscrapers. Occasionally she spins. More often than not, the blonde Fenrir laughs. It's on one of her revolutions that she spots the group hanging out in front of Tribull. Her eyes slide across them, some of them vaguely familiar, others less so. She sees Sinclair and...

hurtles along the distance between them. “Sin!” Booted feet pound the pavement, her face is split in an ecstatic grin, and she waves like she's five until she's about two feet away from her sister.

[Boy] Were they going back to the Brotherhood? Marrick probably was. Scratch that, Marrick definitely was. Would they have to kidnap her? Move her in her sleep? That didn't sound like a very wise idea.

"That guy uh...Hm. I'll tell you later. We've gotta get together later though. I gotta tell you about..."

His eyes flick over to something in the distance. A blink later and he's looking in another direction. What was...what was that....

"Jesus, she's in trouble."

And he's taking firm steps away from the group, pushing past them.

[Alexander] Tonight. Alexander halts for a second, eyes Marrick for a moment to ascertain she meant what he thought she meant.

Then he flashes a cocksure smirk. "Yeah, maybe. We'll see."

He finishes strapping his gloves on and trots up the three or four stairs back into Tribull, his back faintly scored from leaning against the brick wall. "Nah," he calls over his shoulder at Sinclair, "Babydoll isn't my girlfriend anymore. I think I must've beat up another one of her models."

And then the door swings shut behind him.

[Sinclair] Liadan scurries away, Joey bounds up, Boy wanders off, Alex goes back inside, and Sinclair's eyes cross.

She shakes her head, looks at her sister. "Nobody, apparently, was out here to smoke weed. My brain is breaking because of it."

[Marcus Schwarzkopf] *Marcus was walking along one to the paths through the park heading in the direction of the group just standing out. He had his standard work clothes, olive drab t-shirt, bandanna, faded blue jeans, and tan combat boots.

He adjusted the Alice pack over this left shoulder setting it up higher then it was before to keep it from sliding off. He was dressed for summer in that he'd shaved off his beard, and cut his shoulder length hair to a very short length that he could still comb forward.

He looks around at his surroundings, taking in the park in the early evening as he continued down the path.*

[Alexander] (hey man, good to see you back, and as always glad to have you STing. for future ref though, i think it might be best if you asked people if they want to be STed for first, rather than simply announcing your intention to ST and telling them to speak up if they don't want to be. it's a subtle diff, but i think the players would appreciate it!)
to Wreck

[Joey] Joey's head cocks to the side. Her brows come down and her mouth quirks into a straight line, the closest she can come to actually frowning. “I'm so sorry for you, sis. You headed back to the room?” She looks thoughtful for a moment. “Did you ever make those pretty pretty talens?”

[Marrick] Boy was moving. Boy was moving so Marrick was moving. Joey got an upward nod, Sinclair got... well Sinclair got half a smirk and a roll of her eyes. Marrick was moving, though, because her brother was moving. And, well, something to that effect.

She followed. They were off. The Fury had a short attention span.

[Alexander] (home time, all! *jets*)