Pancakes, Pizza, and Idol

[hazlogs]

It is currently 07:40 Pacific Time on Thu Feb 4 2016.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is mostly cloudy. The temperature is 43 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the south at 7 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.27 and rising, and the relative humidity is 93 percent. The dewpoint is 41 degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius.) For more detail, see: http://www.wunderground.com/cgi-bin/findweather/getForecast?query=98501

Currently the moon is in the waning Crescent (Theurge) Moon phase (26% full).

Edgewood House: Downstairs(#2007RAJh)

The front door leads into a small mudroom; coats are hanging on hooks. It opens into the spacious, well lit living room, with several battered old couches arranged into a sort of conversation pit facing the fireplace, a table in the center of them. There are a few chairs, some straight-backed, some plush and comfortable, arranged to make secondary conversation areas, with little end tables placed in strategic locations. There's a notable absence of either breakable objects, or elaborate electrical equipment such as televisions. The walls, painted an increasingly dingy white, have some sweeping dark fabric prints on them, but no paintings or posters. A steep, uncarpeted staircase leads up to the second floor. There are several doors that lead out to other sections of the house, as well. (+view for details)

Nicodemus nods agreeingly to the Child of Gaia. "It does rather seem like, all of a sudden, this huge and nasty thing came out of nowhere and consolidated a ton of supernatural power underneath it. That seems unusual in and of itself. Typically things have to build and grow, and that takes time, and people tend to eventually take notice. It'd be nice to know where this came from. Or, hell, even what they're planning to do."

"I think the original idea was that they are creating a ritual out of all the Sept attacks, right? They followed a pattern that took the shape of a spiral when you mapped it all out." Alicia swings her legs back and forth from her settled spot on top of the counter. "But yes, I agree. It seems odd they just popped up like a thick weed in the front yard when it wasn't there the day before. I think once the mage is taken care of, at least we can gain access through the Umbra. It is the strategy that makes the most sense and will cause less havoc to the veil."

Pig comes down the stairs while the pair are talking. She frowns, listening, and then says, "Mushrooms."

"Homely" would be a nice way to describe this young woman, but "ugly" would probably be more honest. Her coarse beige skin sports angry red rashes of acne, especially on her cheeks and forehead. Her brown eyes are heavy-lidded and have a bruised, sleepless look. She has a heavy brow-shelf but no actual eyebrows to speak of, and her wide nose is turned-up in a way that looks pretty swinish. Her lips are thin, her chin weak, her hands wide and mannish, her voice low and rough, her posture slouchy.

A yellow-brown beanie covers her entire scalp along with her ears, not a bit of hair shows past its brim. The rest of her clothing is shapeless and oversized, hiding the details of her five and a half foot frame. The details often change, though usually consist of jeans, sneakers, some kind of sweater or sweatshirt over a tshirt, and a big green overcoat at least two sizes too big, with the sleeves rolled up.

"I certainly hope so," Nick replies to Alicia before turning to regard the newcomer. "Uhm," he says, then looks over to Alicia. And then back to Pig. "Hey," he says, offering a gloved hand in her direction. "Nick Dalton. Kin to the Walkers. I don't think we've met before unless you had a fur coat on at the time."

This thin, wiry, short (5'6"), and moderately attractive man could be just on either side of 40 years of age. His medium-length, minimally styled hair is dark brown with the occassional strand of intermingled pure white. His attire, appearance, and mannerisms communicate that he's well-off, but certainly not wealthy.

Nicodemus is currently wearing loose-fitting blue jeans and a grey long-sleeved shirt. The exceptionally perceptive might notice his pants do not quite hang naturally over his right ankle. A cloak-like, charcoal gray longcoat envelopes his form, shields him from the weather, and masks much of his body language and movements. Still, when he moves, there's a sense of subtle, cat-like grace that comes from someone who's very familiar with how their body moves and what it's capable of. Brown leather gloves protect his hands, and a sensible pair of brown hiking boots protect his feet.

There's a noticeable scent of wood-smoke and ozone lingering in the air about him, possibly from an expensive cologne applied just a bit too heavily.

The unfamiliar face draws a squint of the eyes from Alicia, then says, "You must be Key Finder. Thane told me that you are now here and that he plans on meeting with you later today I believe. My name is Alicia Jackson. Tribal Elder for the Children of Gaia. Adren and Galliard. Alpha of the war pack Excelsior under his majesty the black unicorn Praeses."

Pig loiters in the doorframe, only briefly glancing at the them and mostly looking elsewhere. "Pig Key-Finder, Metis Cliath Theurge of the Stargazers," she says, offering like someone who's learned by rote that's what you do when other people give you their particulars. "And, uh, mushrooms. Weeds take a long time to grow, but mushrooms just, uh, they come up overnight. Quickly. You, uh, don't see them and then they're there." She kind of mutters most of this, trailing off in a vague mumble toward the end.

Here is a young woman who is built like a track star with shoulder length brown hair and matching brown eyes. Her skin borders on the slightly tanned due to being kissed from the sun from her outdoor activities. Alicia is of caucasian descent with a hint of peruvian mingled into her DNA. Her apparel tends to be a mix of urban streetwear in the form of loose fitted cargo pants and crop shirts, to long skirts with button down blouses. Fairly tall at five-eight, she looks to be a young woman who has seen her share of scraps, and radiates an aura of confidence and showmanship with how she walks. Under her shirts, her stomach has a number of hacksawed looking scars along her skin that criss-crosses around to her back and just under her breast.

Nicodemus looks sideways at Alicia after her and her pack spirit's introduction. "Seriously? 'His majesty?' Does he make you call him that?" He seems bemused, but lets it go and instead regards Pig curiously. "Stargazer, huh? It's been a long time since there's been one around here. Publicly, at least. Is she the only one from that tribe here?" he asks of Alicia.

The lips of Alicia ticks upwards at Nick. "You have met him. You can't deny how regal he is." Her feet thump against the cabinets beneath her. "But yes, you are right, mushrooms do act like that, huh? It's nice to meet you. The only other Stargazer that was around here lately was Keir, but I have not seen him in some time. I don't even know if he is still around."

Pig mumbles something that might be a 'nice to meet you too' and looks down at her hands. She scratches idly at one set of thick, reddened knuckles.

"Go to know that he's humble, too," Nick asides to Alicia, grinning. He then indicates the door to the back porch. "Last time I saw a Stargazer, it was Keir. He was blind. I helped him learn how to shoot off the back porch there. He managed to hit a can," the Glasswalker kinsman adds. "Pretty darn impressive."

"So what brings you here to our lovely home?" Alicia asks curiously as she motions for the food. "Also, go eat up. I made enough for about ten people, or two Get of Fenris. So, snag it while you can."

Pig gives a shallow little nod at the invitation and moves to help her self to some pancakes. "My, uh, my guardian said I should come here."

Nicodemus helps himself to two pancakes but skips the bacon completely. Syrup is added to his plate and he takes a position off to one side to let the garou interact more directly. "Where are you from?" he asks.

"Who's your mentor?" Alicia also throws in curiously.

Pig stacks up four pancakes with butter but doesn't bother with the maple syrup. She takes the plate back to the table but doesn't look at either questioner as she answers, mumbly-like. "He, uh, calls himself Shit-Eater. He's a Metis like me, but a Ragabash. I was raised and Rited in Oregon."

"The Stargazers do not seem to be overly concerned with coming up with impressive sounding names these days," Nick notes casually.

"I really hope that is not a name he earned." Alicia blanches briefly as she rubs her hand across her face. "So, why did he send you here? Did something happen with your mentor? He okay?"

Pig looks uncomfortable; she hunches her shoulders and focuses on her plate. "He... he's fine. He used to be a member here, uh, before I was born. Then he left. I, uh." Her voice drops to a mutter. "I don't think he likes staying in one place much."

(Alicia leaves to take a phone call.)

"I'd like to say I'd met him," Nick says in response to Pig's comments. "But I don't think I did as I'm relatively sure I'd have remembered a name like Shit-Eater. So," he asks of the Stargazer. "What kinds of plans do you have for yourself here? Once you get settled a little, that is?"

Pig shrugs, still looking down at her plate like the way her fork interacts with her pancakes and butter is the most fascinating thing ever. She scrapes her fork a little against the plate. "I dunno. Help out? Join uh, a pack? I've never been part of a Sept before."

"Really?" Nick says, somewhat intrigued by this idea of a garou being raised outside of a sept. "I thought most cubs were attached to.... Well, I guess it makes sense as not every location has a caern, so not every place is going to have a sept, and not every garou has to be a part of a sept. I guess my view of the culture is skewed somewhat by what I've witnessed here."

"A lot of caerns are dead now," Pig says quietly. "That's what people say."

"I've heard that as well. I guess people are mingling and scattered rather than consolidating in the remaining places of power," Nick hypothesizes. "Kind of like shell shock perhaps. Or post-traumatic stress disorder. I mean, the garou try to be all 'rar rar fight to the end,' but the reality is that they're partly human, and people can only take so much before they break and give up."

Pig finishes her pancakes and uses her for to toy with the remaining moist crumbs on the plate. "M... maybe? But, uh, the Bone Gnawers in Portland don't, uh, they seemed... they didn't seem like, like give-up."

Nicodemus likewise uses his fork to section off a few piece of pancake to consume while Pig speaks. "I didn't realize there was a sept of Bone Gnawers in Portland. Where is their caern located? Or did you not get to see it? Or was it destroyed?"

Pig shakes her head. "Nnnnno, it's not in Portland, it's outside it, and there are a lot of other, uh, other tribes there. The, uh, the Portlandian Gnawers are kind of... part of it but separate? Flash didn't, uh, didn't think Silent Rains was interesting, though. He said, he said this place was more..." She licks her lips, hesitates, and fails to come up with a different word. "...Interesting."

Nicodemus offers with a smile. "Weird?" He then raises his eyebrows slightly. "Weirder than Portland? Wow. That /is/ impressive."

Heading back in from the living room is Alicia, having fielded a phone call from an excitable teenager who was screaming into the microphone. Tucking the phone away, she starts to put more groceries away.

Pig glances sidelong at Nick and smiles wanly back at him. "Weirder than Silent Rains. But, um, Portland was... I liked it." She looks down at her plate again. "I didn't see too much, though."

"I'd be curious about picking your brain at some point regarding the differences between the two places. I've only seen what's here, and I'm somewhat ignorant as to where these other septs are even located. I do get to Portland every so often on business trips. It might be enlightening to drop in and say high at some other sept someday."

"I have not been there myself yet." Alicia admits after putting the rest of the groceries away, then double checks her list. "I may take a poke down there at some point."

Pig clacks her fork tines against her plate some more, then gets up and takes her stuff to the sink to wash it. "Find Mouse-House. She was my, uh, my auspice-teacher and helped set up my Rite of Passage. She's, uh, she's very old and knows, uh, a lot."

Nicodemus listens and finishes off eating his two pancakes, paying attention but not really contributing anything at the moment.

"Mouse-House, huh? I will file that one away. So, you look pretty young. Have you seen combat at all?" Alicia takes a water out and screws the cap off, then starts to add some water flavoring to it with a few drops of red.

Pig nods without looking up from the very thorough job she's doing of washing her plate and fork.

Nodding her head, Alicia watches her for a moment, glances to Nick, then back to the girl. "Is everything okay by the way? You are in a judge free zone here. All friends here."

Pig nods again. She finishes the washing up and glances sidelong at Alicia. "Do you mind if, uh, if I go outside for a while?"

"I don't mind at all. You're free to do whatever you want." Alicia says with a warm smile towards her. "If you want to walk about the deeper bawn, let me know and I can escort you and show you a few neat places."

Nicodemus finishes his two pancakes, no bacon, and moves to the sink to clean his plate and fork. "It's very pretty, the wilderness out there. Especially once you're far enough out that you can't really hear any cars or sounds other than what you'd hear normally in the remote wilderness. Peaceful," he summarizes.

Pig gives Alicia a bit of a deer-in-headlights look. "Uh, no, I mean, that's okay, um. Excuse me." She quickly puts up her plate to dry and hurries out.

Alicia nods her head and gives a wave, then glances over to Nick with a shrug of her shoulders.

(...Later...)

It is currently 16:48 Pacific Time on Thu Feb 4 2016.

Edgewood House: Downstairs(#2007RAJh)

The front door leads into a small mudroom; coats are hanging on hooks. It opens into the spacious, well lit living room, with several battered old couches arranged into a sort of conversation pit facing the fireplace, a table in the center of them. There are a few chairs, some straight-backed, some plush and comfortable, arranged to make secondary conversation areas, with little end tables placed in strategic locations. There's a notable absence of either breakable objects, or elaborate electrical equipment such as televisions. The walls, painted an increasingly dingy white, have some sweeping dark fabric prints on them, but no paintings or posters. A steep, uncarpeted staircase leads up to the second floor. There are several doors that lead out to other sections of the house, as well. (+view for details)

Nicodemus says "Not much," Nick replies to Felix as he puts the two bags down and pulls out the frozen pizzas. "I just dropped by this morning before work, saw the stash of frozen pizzas was low, and brought more since I found a killer deal on some discontinued ones at one of the grocery store in Kent's Crossing. He hefts one. "It's not too late to throw one in if you aren't craving the taste of carbon."

"I'm pretty sure carbon's one of those main food groups," Felix says; he's sitting at the kitchen table eating a sandwich with vegetables and something carbonized-looking in it, and the air of the place smells burnt and smokey in a probably-related way. "But so's pizza, an' I'm pretty sure it's more of the pyramid, so yeah please! Is it microwave?" he asks, with a faint note of hope suggesting he knows what appliances he's got mastery of and which he doesn't so much.

Nicodemus eyes the pizza in question. "Could be? Won't be as... well, it'll do, I'm sure." He unboxes it and puts it in the microwave. Done and done. "Not much going on with me. Just got off work and thought I'd drop in and see what was shakin'."

Continuing to poke at the iPad, Justin scrunches his nose up. "Nick, can you make this thing get Internet so we can watch Idol? This is a big night."

Pig comes in through the front door, pausing in the mud room to dutifully scrape the mud off her sneakers. She tilts her head, hearing voices in the kitchen, but doesn't hurry to join the others.

"Don't get me wrong, oven works too as long as someone else is makin' it," Felix says, continuing to eat the outcome of his last attempt. "Not exactly havin' an earthquake in here. But yeah, there's that." He gestures vaguely to Justin and the iPad, and leans back, not entirely succeeding at masking a sigh with a drink of his beer. The last one, it turns out, and he gets up and heads to the fridge to see if there's another.

Nicodemus takes the offered iPad from Justin and starts poking at it, half keeping an eye on the microwave while attempting a diagnosis of the iPad just handed to him. "Andrea make the cut to get onto TV or something?" he asks, apparently aware of that situation somewhat.

"She's made it to the third Hollywood round!" Justin calls out now from the fridge as he rustles through it. "The first round was the line of ten, where they have to sing a song on their own, the first since their audition. When they get passed that, they do a group round which is ridiculous. Now this is the third round. She was on TV last week."

Pig has finished getting all the dirt and mud off her sneakers, enough so that she won't be dirtying the floors. She sucks in a deep breath, then, and lets it out. And then moves through the house toward the sound of voices and smell of burnt food.

Felix continues poking in the fridge next to his packmate, although since he knew what he was going in for, he emerges first. Success! "Yup," he says, in eloquent confirmation of Justin's explanation, and crushes the empty can, tossing it into the recycling as he heads back to his seat and sandwich with the new one.

Compact is the word for him: wiry, maybe 5'6" in his beat-up black combat boots, with a sense of compressed energy and imminence like a coiled spring -- or a cocked gun. Never quite still for long, balance flowing through the balls of his feet. There's a striking intensity to his narrow blue-green eyes, the colour contrasting with his fair skin and spiky copper hair; just below the left is what at first appears to be a faint mole, but closer inspection reveals as a small, long-healed scar. His features are appealing, with high cheekbones and a good jawline, but it's the confident mien and roguish smile that most often seem to draw people in.

He's in a well-worn biker jacket of the traditional sort, all fairly closely fit black leather and silvery zippers and snaps. Beneath it, he's got nicely-fitting dark indigo jeans with a plain white tank, its ribbed cotton skimming close enough to hint at the musculature beneath. Over that, he's wearing a long-sleeved, navy blue shirt, unbuttoned; judging by the white-on-red number patches on the left arm, the flag patch on the right shoulder, and the round fleur-de-lis patch to the left of the collar, it was once part of someone's Scout uniform... probably not his. Okay, the 'Boy Scouts of the USA' patch over the right pocket's a hint, too. There's a couple leather-and-bead bracelets on one wrist and a length of ball-chain disappearing beneath his collar; his nails were apparently painted black some time ago, since they're starting to show chips. Late teens, most likely, and when he speaks it's in a mellifluous, southern-accented baritone voice.

Nicodemus pokes and swipes at the tablet. "Ah," he says, likely to something he found on the device. "Well that's pretty impressive. I haven't been keeping up with TV shows like that in forever, but that's still pretty darn impressive." He taps the device twice and then hands it back to Justin. "That'll do you."

After snagging a soda and a cheese stick, Justin reaches out for the iPad gleefully as he taps the browser, then plugs in the website page for Fox so he can stream it. "Thanks dude!" He whirls around and spies Pig, tilting his head to one side. "Hola chica. Que' Pasa?" He asks with a grin on his face, then holds out his fist to her for a bump.

Shaggy brown hair and darker brown eyes frames this young boy's face. Justin has a slightly tanned complexion with a hint of Puerto Rican from his mother's side, Caucasian from his father's. He has a fairly lanky build that could use a bit of bulking upas he is built like a high school track runner. He wears loose fitted 'destroyed' blue jeans, simple tank tops, and worn down sneakers that are about five months in need of replacement, and during the cold, a thick green military jacket from his Grandpa. He looks like your average, ordinary American young teen that plays outside and is fairly active. Tall at five foot ten, he is a few inches higher than most his age for now.

Pig obligingly bumps knuckles with Justin, though both it and her return smile are stiff and awkward. "H'lo."

Felix flops back down into his seat, giving the sandwich a surely-unnecessarily-aggressive poke, and glances up at the sound of the newest arrival. He seems to relax slightly from whatever it was, and flashes her a grin as well, lifting his chin to her slightly in acknowledgement. "Hey. You the new girl, then?"

*Ding!* and the pizza has been nuked. Nick nods an acknowledgement of Justin's thanks and then opens the microwave to let the pizza vent before collecting it.

"Yeah, you're the new girl, uh.. Key Findah, right?" Justin asks as he props the iPad up as he watches Idol start and Ryan Seacrest begins to explain the rules. This is a solo round in front of the judges. The last one before they chop the numbers down in half to a top 30. Each contestant can sing an original song, or pick one of twenty songs. Only three people can pick the same song. As he wiggles into place on his chair, he cracks the top of his soda and takes a loud slurp. "I'm Justin. Gnawer. Felix and I follow Coyote." He motions to the Galliard.

Pig loiters, standing, near the doorway into the kitchen, arms folded across her chest and shoulders slumped. "Pig Key-Finder, Metis Theurge of the Stargazers. Uh, and Cliath."

"Felix T. Sinclair, Lets-Them-Eat-Cake, Cliath 'Gnawer Galliard," the redhead replies, with a slight inclination of the head and not at all slight sweep of the arm giving about as much impression of a somewhat flamboyant bow as can really be managed without actually getting up and doing it, "...an' like he says, followin' Coyote. Nice meetin' ya." He glances to the screen, expression going momentarily blank at Seacrest's continuing explanation, and moves his attention right on along to Nick, with a, "Well, that smells a lot better'n my bacon, I gotta admit. Thanks."

"I should have looked to see what kind it was before I nuked it," Nick belatedly mentions. "I hope 'Supreme' is okay. Help yourself. It should be cool enough to pick up, but I'd give it a bit before attempting to eat it. Although I imagine if you burn the roof of your mouth from the cheese you'd heal it back up fairly fast. Cheaters," he chides mildly as he begins stocking the remaining frozen pizzas he's brought into the freezer.

"Supreme is supremely awesome. Hey, Key, you wanna have some pizza?" Justin asks as he taps the volume up louder on the iPad as the first of the contestants start to one by one sing for the three judges.

Pig shakes her head and mumbles, "No, thank you."

Felix shrugs. "Everyone likes Supreme," he says, "...an' anyway, what's that thing they say? Pizza's like sex; even if it's bad it's still pretty good? ...okay, maybe they mostly say it the other way 'round, but if one thing's like another the other's gotta be like it too. Logic." He gets up to snag the pizza and bring it to the table, taking a slice in defiance of the very sound temperature-related advice as he sits back down. "You sure you don't want any?" he asks the Metis, "He brought about twenty. Ain't like no-one's gonna go hungry if you have some." One of the performances on the iPad draws his attention, a fleeting glower, and a muttered, "That one ain't stayin' long."

Nicodemus doesn't take any of the pizza he just microwaved, despite it being Supreme. "It'll make the sept look bad if we starved you to death," he kids gently.

"Yeah, that dude bombed that one. Man, you get that far and then you choke." The rest of the show goes on, doing quick pans across the nervous and scared crowds of the last seventy-five who are vying for a spot in the top thirty. As usual, some of the more prominent contestants get a few more seconds of air time as they go over their lives and drive for music. Lost parents. Dead lover. Last chance at success. Justin props his chin up in his palm. "She call you by the way? Tell you what song she is singing?" He puts a slice of pizza on a plate, wiggling it temptingly to Pig. "Come on and join us for some eats and Idol." He gives a thumbs up to Nick after taking a bite of his own. "We're Gnawers, we're supposed to starve. Oh! Hey, we are in by the way. Us Coyotes for the home refurb job you told me 'bout. At least Felix and I. Watcher says he will guard the house at night so people won't steal the copper."

Pig gives in to peer pressure and joins the others at the table. She glances at the iPad screen with only mild curiosity as she takes a slice a pizza.

"Nah. She ain't allowed to call or text or nothin'," Felix says, shrugging, "Don't matter. She'll pick somethin' she's good at an' do fine." He takes a bite of the pizza, and Justin's claim gets a snort. "Ain't either supposed to starve. We just gotta work harder at avoidin' it than some folks. But even if we were, SHE ain't supposed to starve, so he's got a point. Reckon we're supposed to be extra careful with our 'Gazers these days. An' I said I'll =try= the buildin' thing, just to be clear. We'll see." He narrows his eyes at the iPad, looking personally affronted by some girl's rendition of Satisfaction; she's not even notably bad.

Nicodemus seems largely disinterested in Idol, so he separates himself off from the trio to examine the fridge for a beverage. He pops open a Coke and then moves to rejoin them. "I drop food off once or thrice per month when the moon is skinnier. That is unless work has me on the road. So frankly no one ought to be starving between myself and the others who help keep this place stocked." He gestures towards the bowl of burner phones in the front room--like a candy dish for disposable electronics--and says to Pig, "If you need a cell phone, help yourself. I don't believe they're allowed in the caern, though."

It seems that Justin is entranced with Idol. He has a terrible voice himself, but perhaps a little Galliard lurks inside his heart? As a couple more contestants go up and then down on the platform, he gives a wide grin. "I'd give my left lung to hear someone bust out with some Springsteen or some Journey. Just once. I'm sick of hearing these pop songs."

Pig, in mid-chew, follows Nick's gesture with her eyes toward the bowl of burner phones and nods. "Isn't... isn't the Bawn very, uh, Wyld? There, uh, probably wouldn't be any reception anyway."

"I woulda done Don't Stop Believin' for you at some point. Everyone loves that one anyhow," Felix tells Justin, "...an' hey, who knows when I might need a spare left lung for somethin'." For now, what he appears to need is more pizza. "Pretty sure you could get reception at least here an' there on the bawn, spillin' over from other places, but it's easier just not takin' phones an' shit out there in the first place, so I dunno for sure."

"The previous alpha was somewhat anti-technology," Nick explains to the Stargazer. "Wendigo traditionalist," he offers as elaboration. "I'm not sure if the policy is different or not these days since the sept has new management under Thane, a Shadow Lord, but better safe than sorry."

"Yeah, she was a real hater. I went out their way to see Esther and she threw a huge period about me being out there. Something about how she can't let us take over their land." Justin says with a snort. "Did that chick not take one look at me and realize I'm latino? I'm not even Mexican, I'm the high end kind. Puerto Rican." He crams another bite of pizza into his mouth. "Haven't seen Esther since either. Oh! Hey. There she is." He points at the iPad, then lets out an 'aww'. "Just a camera pan."

Pig pauses in the middle of nibbling away pizza crust (no dead soldiers for /this/ Stargazer) to peer at Justin, brow furrowed and frowning.

The sound of a car driving up, the shine of headlights, and then the shutting off of an engine announce another arrival.

Felix arches an eyebrow at Justin. "No offense, man, an' admittedly I prolly coulda paid a lot more attention in history than I did, but wasn't a whole shitload of the comin'-an'-takin'-the-land done by spanish guys? I don't think you get off the y'all-don't-belong-here hook that easy. Shitty you ain't seen Esther since, though." They're all in the kitchen, the three Garou seated at the table and eating pizza (Supreme, and microwaved, for those as are picky about their pizza options); Nick may or may not be sitting, but isn't eating. An iPad on the table is a fair way through tonight's episode of American Idol. Felix gives the screen a half-smile as it pans past the girl they know, then gets distracted by the sound of a new arrival, his attention moving toward the door.

Nicodemus is leaning against the table, staying further back from the trio of garou nearer the iPad that's streaming video. "I..." Whatever he was about to say gets cut off and he just looks towards who the new arrival might be.

"Felix, you are the worst best friend I've ever had." Justin grumps as he takes another bite of his pizza. "Sides, I'm half-white so I'll only give her partial credit." Glancing over to the front door as well, he only gives the engine noise a cursory thought before he looks back to the iPad, staring intently.

There's a brief knock, and then a tall, thin woman comes in, six-pack dangling from one hand. She just heads for the kitchen, depositing the beer in the fridge and giving the pizza-eaters a look.

Pig finishes her pizza crust and pokes a finger around at leftover crumbs from her portion. "Puerto Rico was settled by the Spanish and three-quarters of them identify as white," she mumbles at the poked bits of crust.

"That half, you were already implyin' she woulda had a point with," Felix says, giving Justin a grin, "an' bullshit, you love me. As well you should." At Pig's input, he gives her a little, 'well, there you go then' gesture, but further comment on the topic is delayed by the arrival of a second stranger. "And clearly the universe agrees, 'cause it seems to be sendin' beautiful women bearing beer. We must be doin' =somethin'= right," he says, and flashes that grin at the kin. "Ain't seen you around before. Pizza? We got plenty." There's a brief glance to Justin and Nicodemus -- do they know her? -- but he certainly doesn't seem particularly concerned as yet.

Nicodemus notes Felix's words about not knowing Dariya, he makes the assumption Pig doesn't know her, and that leaves Justin--who tends to run in the same circles as Felix--which likely means, "What family are you here with?" he asks as he takes a couple steps to better position some garou between him and the stranger.

"Key, you're killing me here. Man, I ain't getting no love today." Justin chuckles good-naturedly to the Metis. At the sight of Dariya, his jaw unhinges slightly, then drops down. "... You are the hottest chick I have ever seen in my life. Holy shit." That was supposed to be his inside voice. Damn. Did he at least say that in Spanish? No? Crud. ".. Uhhh... heh... eerr... hey." He stammers out, giving his hands a bit of a fidget as they wind about a napkin.

The newcomer studies all this through slightly narrowed eyes. Justin's... comment gets a slight Spocklike quirk of one brow. She settles eventually on Nick as the most likely adult present. Or maybe he's just the closest to eye level. "I am not with anyone," she says, her Russian accent prominent. "But yes, family."

Almond-shaped eyes, a peculiar light hazel, are this young woman's best feature; the nose is a little too strong, the mouth a little too wide for perfection, although her face is beautiful enough to earn notice. Her dark hair is cropped in a bedhead-style tousle, just long enough for the twisted locks to frame her face and jawline. Her features are attractive by most standards, with a touch of the gypsy. At five-seven she isn't tall, and might be just a little on the thin side--but lean and lithe, with a dancer's grace in her movements and a body corded with taut muscle. She looks to be somewhere in her twenties, or perhaps as young as nineteen, although something in her eyes and her almost universally detached demeanor says she must be older.

Black lowrise jeans hug her hips; they are frayed here and there, showing patches of white thread but no skin. The bootcut hems are worn to a fringe, and fall over scuffed black Doc boots. She wears a tight 'baby' t, charcoal grey, with an old Metallica graphic that is equally weathered; it does not quite reach her waist, leaving several inches of skin bare and showing the plain silver ring piercing her navel. A bulky fleece hoodie shields her against the wind, scarlet with a Ramones graphic embroidered on the back.

Pig looks over at the new arrival but only briefly, just a quick glance before her eyes are back down at her tiny collection of pizza crust crumbs. Her shoulders hunch a little more.

Felix quirks a brow at Justin's reaction as well, although he looks far more amused than any Vulcan (even half-) would ever be allowed. "Whose family, exactly?" he asks Dariya, "Anyone in particular? Looks like you like beer an' the Ramones, so I'm inclined to like you so far," and surely not at all for any of the same reasons Justin can't currently get his suave in gear, "but y'know, always good to get this shit all ironed out."

Nicodemus does make his way past the trio of garou in the kitchen, allowing him to put the table between himself and the as-yet unidentified newcomer. "Yes," he says, backing up Felix. "Who, exactly, are you? No one here seems to know you." From the tone of his voice, it sounds like strangers might not exactly be welcome.

"Russian accent. Check. Super hot? Check. Brought beer instead of wine? Check. She's a Shadow Lord." Justin says, then snags another slice of pizza, taking a large bite off it. "Silver Fangs wouldn't bring beer. They're too uppity for the good stuff. Hey! She's finally coming on!" He says as he grabs Felix by the shoulder, pointing to the iPad at the sight of the young teenage girl comes on to the stage before the trio of judges. Today, she is wearing a pair of damaged and repaired denim beneath a flower printed skirt with a black shirt tucked into it with a gray vest over it. There is a shot of a tall man in his early 40's with auburn colored hair and hazel eyes, holding the hand of a younger blonde woman. Seacrest mentions it is her parents, who are proudly watching before the girl launches into an emotional rendition of What Hurts The Most from the Rascal Flatts. Her bit in the show only lasts roughly a minute and ten seconds before they are on to the next.

Something comes to the woman's posture, something... alert and ready to move, as if she instantly comprehends the danger of the situation. Something hardens in her expression, at Justin's words, and she ignores both the boy and his iPad to direct her answer to Nick. "I... don't know, who is maybe still here," she says. "Kostya has gone, good riddance to that little bratva prick. Scott, I have not seen for many years. Kyez." Maybe that's Kaz. "Some Walkers, maybe they know me. From a long time back."

Pig obligingly watches the iPad when Justin's friend (or whoever she is) comes on screen, though she keeps giving Dariya little sidelong unsmiling glances.

"Dude," Felix says to Justin, glancing at him sidelong, "if you guessed wrong, now she'd know a thing to say." It's a pretty casual remark, and he still doesn't seem as concerned as maybe he ought to be. The grab does rather distract him, and he can't help looking a bit pleased to see (and hear) the performer on the screen. "Reckon that must be her dad, then. An' stepmom, I guess," he says aside to the other Gnawer, and makes a valiant attempt to pay attention to both the performance and the new arrival at once. The other guys get a momentary look to see if any of those names work for them, and he presses, "Which ones?"

Nicodemus looks in what might be disbelief at the two Coyote pack members before he directly addresses the stranger in the house who's still not given her name nor indication that she's kin or garou. "Kaz of the Children of Gaia?" he asks her, intentionally throwing her a curve ball. Whatever's transpiring on the iPad doesn't seem to have any of his focus. "And generally it's customary to state your name, family affiliation, and other relevant facts when you walk into a house where no one knows who you are." There's a hint of stinging heat to his tone. Seems like the kinsman might actually have a pair.

"Kaz was a Gnawer." Justin calls over to Nick. "She is a legend. I always wanted to meet her. My mom said that she was good friends with my dad in the old days." He gives Felix an amused look for a moment before he looks over to Nick. His tone causes a slight tug of his lips upwards in a grin. Kicking back in the chair, he flips his feet up on the tabletop. "Hey, Key. You want anotha slice?"

Dariya's expression turns even more wary, and she goes so far as to take a step back, lifting both hands in a universal gesture, palms toward them. "Not really a chance to say much, with all the noise," she says calmly. "But usually I come here, bring something. Ask if anyone has seen Cutter, or any of my friends. I thought, the moon is small, maybe I bring something. Ask about my friends. But apparently this is not good night. Kids are watching TV, maybe you are stuck here to babysit and don't like this, I don't know."

Pig sucks in a sharp breath and huffs it out just as sharply. "My name is /Pig/. My deed-name is /Key-Finder/. Not /Key/." She's not looking at the iPad anymore or anyone in particular. She sniffs audibly and then adds, in a lower tone, "...and there's no Wyrm smell."

"Fuck's sake, J!" Felix mutters when that correction gets called over, and he sighs, looking over to Dariya again; he sits up straighter, still not directly threatening, but more like he might well get up. "Look. It ain't been too noisy to talk; most of the noise's BEEN talk. Ain't enough of it been from you." He glances to Pig at her addition, "...thanks, Pig." Dariya gets studied again, then. "So, since his real subtle hintin' there didn't do it: who the fuck ARE you? Name, family, what friends you wanna ask about, who else might we know that you do? This is a fine night. Just have a seat and get started on the answers." His tone's very level, making a decent balance between friendly and firm, and something about it's just really very persusasive.

Nicodemus relaxes a bit after Pig's announcement of there being no Wyrm taint present, but he's still clearly irritated. "/Thank/ /you/," he says to Felix with a nod to Pig as well, including her in on that thanks. "And was this Scott the Get of Fenris?"

"Woah, hey, I just don't feel comfortable calling a girl, Pig. Even if it is your name. We live in a super ultra PC world full of thin skinned pussies and I'm not 'bout to get shit on by some Fury who walks in and catches me calling you Pig. So, think of something else for me to call you." Justin says as he rises out of his seat, giving Felix a heated 'look', then rounds on Dariya as his shoulders rock. "I'll go first. This kid is named Justin Statton. /Fostern/ and /Ahroun/ of the Bone Gnawers. /Alpha/ of Tactical Frivolity under the immortal trickster Coyote." He flashes his teeth to her. "And like Nick said, get talking or get the walking. I'm not up for /anyone's/ tude tonight."

The tall, thin woman just watches, listens, without managing to get a word in edgewise. Every once in a while she takes a breath as if to speak, and then the next person weighs in, and she waits patiently. Nick at least gets a frown and an odd little shake of her head, but she doesn't get an answer out before the next one of them starts talking. Felix's determination--and maybe the Gift--secures the woman's attention. She focuses narrowed, measuring eyes on *him*, while he speaks and even after. "My name is Dasha," the tall woman says in that calm, quiet, accented voice. "I am Kin, to Shadow Lords. Jack Salem and Mouse maybe remember me." Then she looks to Pig, giving her a nod. "Good for you." Something in the cold eyes warms just a little. "You give them what for. They are going yap, yap yap, and *you* do something *useful*. I am glad to meet you, Key-Finder." Then the pale eyes settle on Nick again and she says, quietly, "I will go. Very sorry to have interrupted your pizza time. Next time, I will remember to say my name before anyone asking." Her expression's one of mild regret, as she turns away to leave.

Pig's hands clench into fists on the table at Justin's reply, and her cheeks flush, making the rash of aggressive acne on them look even more aggressive. She mutters under her breath while Dariya speaks, nothing really audible but for a few hard consonants, but stops at 'Key-Finder' and shoots the woman a sullen look. And then she just gets up and walks out of the kitchen, heading for the stairs.

Felix's eyes flash at the 'yap yap yap' part, and narrow, still set on the kin. "Ain't everyone can do what she can do," he says, "an' in my opinion talkin's plenty useful, considerin' the other options. An' 'before anyone askin''? You were asked who you were right away; don't pretend you're too stupid to understand when someone asks who you are they wanna know =who you are=. So how about you have a seat," there's a certain emphasis on that, "an' we'll just make sure everyone's memory's in tip-top workin' shape, before you head out."

Nicodemus seems to take this as his que to offer his own greeting, though he's still a bit gruff. "Nick Dalton. Kin to the Glass Walkers. I know Mouse and Salem. They're still around and I can give you their contact information if you want."

There is a flare of the nostrils as Justin snags the iPad off the table, tucks it under his shirt, then heads out the backdoor. He can be heard cursing in Spanish before the door swings behind him to thump against the frame.

Felix's words bring Dasha to a halt. She stands quite still, her back to them, tension in every line of her posture. She is expressionless, when she turns and comes back to the table; clearly she's none too eager to get anywhere near Felix, but she tugs the chair out that Pig was occupying before, and sits down, perching on the very edge. The pale eyes are down now, kept distant. "What do you wish to know?"

"Thank you," Felix says, relaxing slightly, although there's still tension in the look he gives the back door as and after his packmate heads through it. He picks up his beer again, having a pretty damn good swallow of it, and sighs. "You knowin' some folks we know is a good start. Wouldn't mind a last name to go with that first one, or knowin', are you just back in town from somewhere? When were you here before? Mostly," and this seems to be more to Nick, "I just reckon it wouldn't hurt to give them two a call an' at least make sure they know the name."