i don't get it.

[Leon Davenport] He was walking down the street, after having parked his car. A black lexus of the year, in an underground garage. The tall, althetic, goodl ooking man, with short blond hair and piercing blue eyes made his way with confidence and grace, turning heads of those far enough to see him, while making those around him, avoid him. It's not that he smelled or look ugly form up close..there was jsut something about the shaply dressed man in a black suit, purple shirt and warm jacket, a kind of rage that was ever present in him, close ot the surface.

He looked around, as always, taking in his surroundings. He watched everyone, gaging their threat level. Of course to him, most were low level, but still the biker and his firend were big enough and could be packing enough to actually..tickle him. That made him grin. Everything smeed ok today, so he continued on his way.

He had his hands in his pockets, watching the humans and the new decor. The city seemed quite different during daytime then night time and he liked it. The day was bright, windy..it was chicago after all, but he was good with it. Toronto wasn't california after all. He spotted an italian restaurant that seemed interesting and stopped, trying ot decide if he wanted to go in.

[Sofie Janssen] Fate had it that the Kinfolk he saw the night before, was coming out that Italian restaurant. She wasn't too happy, again, and he may begin to wonder if she ever was. This time she wasn't steaming from the ears, but her expression was a little frustrated and dejected all the same.

Pulling the door shut after her, she stepped out onto the side walk to button up her jacket. It was the same black one he saw on her yesterday. Except this time she had on some blouse that made her look a wee bit softer, though didn't get rid of that sharpness in her face, and a pair of black pants over some cheap synthetic leather shoes. Her hair is pulled back into a single ponytail, leaving the angles of her face in straight lines and baring the tops of her her small ears.

As she's turning out from the door, stepping onto the side walk, she comes face to face with Leon. She halts, startled. "You again."

[Leon Davenport] He nodded with a grin "Yeah me again. Not stalking you, I swear. But I certainly don't mind seeing you again. You seem..kinda in the same mood as last night" He say, his grin turning into a smile as he look behind her "Food is not worth it, or is it something else?"He ask as his blue eyes came back to look at her. He seemed actually interested in the reason why she was angry. "Seriously, were they giving youa hard time?"He say with a slight frown. He took off his hands from his pockets, curling htem slightly, not into fists, not yet. He wanted to know her answer before lashing at the place...then again, no one was pursuing her this time. So her mood might be related to osmething else, or something trivial.

[Sofie Janssen] "Yeah right." She snorts at him not stalking her. "Not even twenty-four hours ago I saw you last." Sofie doesn't believe him at face value, but she doesn't get into it either. It's not something she's going to pursue, having no hard facts on it. She's more of a pessimist then some optimist, and being very well Pure Bred she had to be a little more cautious about these things. Plenty of Garou would love to get their hands on her, some less honourable than others.

There's a folder in her hand. The sort that has clear pocket sleeves and spiral bound. It's cover is navy blue and the back of it black. She's holding it down by her side, fingers wrapped around the edge as a high school girl might carry books towards class.

"Huh?" Confused for a moment, she looked from him and back through the windows to the restaurant. There's a few people inside, not many. It gets busier in the evening. "Oh nah." Shaking her head slightly, she dismisses his concerns. "No trouble." Her annoyance has faded. Her attention is easy to divert, especially when there's this Garou stalking her.

"What are you up to?" Her gaze, like her words, are frank and direct.

[Leon Davenport] He shrugh "I was looking for a place to eat. I'm hungry. " He smiled "Would you mind joining me? I'm buying. Maybe you could tell me what you're up to today?"He say, slowly starting to walk. He decided that they should eat somewhere else then the place that just annoyed her. He turned his head slightly to see if she was coming with him "And that blouse look lovely"He say, smiling. His eyes looked around, trying to find a place they could grab a bite "What kind of food do you like?"He ask, assumng she was near him

[Sofie Janssen] He was inviting her to eat something for lunch? Well, she hadn't ate yet, and a glance over the way he was dressed told her he came from some money. It was probably better she didn't but, what the hell. As long as they don't end up at some back alley diner, she should be alright.

Just as she was about to take him up on his offer, he makes a compliment about her blouse, making her look down to where the collar peeks out from her partly buttoned up jacket. She finds her hand smoothing it down, as if to make it neater. "Oh. Thanks." There's a small line between her brows, confused about how she feels at his compliment. Was he joking at her or being sincere?

"Organic. But finding that shit in the city is like trying to find a needle in a haystack," she tells him, moving to catch up. Apparently she's decided he can buy her lunch.

[Leon Davenport] He nodded "Well, we can always ask around...though you would have better chances than me to get an answer" He say with a playful grin. He walked at her pace, allowing his eyes to look again at their surrundings. He seemed compeltly relaxed if you don't notice the way his eyes took everything in. Yet, despite that inner tension..or alertness, when he spoke his voice was smooth, not a growl and had a nice way of moving, like liquid, all fluid and easy.

He saw a cafe that looked local, not one of the names he recognized at least "Would you prefer a restuarant or a quite cafe liek this one?"He say casully indicating the direction of the place he just spotted, looking at her

[Sofie Janssen] "I don't know I'm that persuasive." But she says it with half a grin, quick and fleeting.

They walk the street and find a cafe. She peers in through the windows, glances over the sign of the shop, and looks up at him with a shrug. "Yeah, could be alright. It's a gamble eating anywhere. I hear all sorts of shit about poor hygiene and food preparation. Never mind where they get their produce." The Glass Walker is probably thinking she's some sort of extremist. She is, to an extent. Sofie grew up in a rural area and the people she now runs with are serious environmentalists. People like her are the ones that push for organic foods and family business over mass corporations.

[Leon Davenport] He smiled "Want me to check where they get their supplies?"He said half teasing, half serious. He himself never really thought about his food. Of course, he can't stand junk food and processed food. He actualyl want ot eat real vegetables and meat when he eat. But still, he also knew that if there were some problems with hte food preparation..even hygiene, it wouldn't kill him. His body can handle it and much more. He still understood her. The more direct your food come from Gaia, the more natural it is, the better it taste. "I guess I'll really do osme reaseach about the most healthy place to eat. Dodn't feel liek poising myself either" He open the door for her.

[Sofie Janssen] His tease got a small smirk out of her. Bemused, she shrugged and walked through the door when he opened it for her. "Thanks," she had muttered. It wasn't for the offer to check supplies, but for opening the door.

Inside the warmth, she unbuttons her jacket and takes a look around for booths and tables. She takes a table by the window so she can have a good view outside and isn't stuck at looking at other patrons and wait staff. It's also furthest from the kitchen where she won't be tempted to ask about practices. That shit would get her kicked out faster then her food could be cooked. She really has to bite her tongue sometimes.

"Here alright?" she asks Leon, nodding to the table she's already picked out. Her jacket is already half way down her arms. That blouse is short sleeved and some creamy white colour. It's relatively new, like the black pants and shoes.

[Leon Davenport] He nodded "It's fine with me" He sit so he could keep an eye on the entrance, hopefully with as less peopel behind him as possible. He did checked them all before sitting, jsut after he took off his coat, leaving him in his dark suit that fit his atheltic frame prefectly. Most patrons looked away when he looked in their directions and those close to their table, subtly tried to move farter, pushing slowly their chair away, but unable ot go much farther..unless they wanted to eat between tables with plates on their knees

He sat down, his eyes looknig at her clothes then into her eyes "So tell me..why the new cothes, the neveloppe, the sour expression? Were you job hunting?"

[Sofie Janssen] After tossing her jacket over the back of the chair, she sits down. She gets comfortable and reaches for a menu on the table, leaving the other one for him. "Yeah. I've got to get a job. Get some pennies in the bank so I can actually live in this place." Her folder is left on the table, cover closed. She doesn't have a bag with her.

Looking down at the menu, she scans it over, searching out the best options. She throws a glance over towards the kitchen and counter, giving the staff a once over before looking back to the menu. Thoughtful. She doesn't offer too much information other then that, silent as she debates what to eat. The cafe isn't that packed.

[Leon Davenport] He nodded "From the look of things, it's not going too well. What are your experiences?" He ask, picking up his menu, glancing it at, deciding on eating a sandwich with a side order of salad, before looking at her. He was curious about her skills. Who knows, maybe he could help her find something, then again probably not. Beside the possibility that she could work as a very basic employe ofr his trube..unless she's a kin to his, thenchances are he won't be able to do anything. Still, he coud be persuasive when he wanted to. It all depend if Sofie would agree to have him help. He put down the menu, eyes alternating beteen her and the entrance, watching every newcomers for a few seconds.

[Sofie Janssen] The question makes her a tad bit uncomfortable. She doesn't wear it on her sleeve, but she does hesitate before answering. "Uh, bit of this and that. But I don't have any formal qualifications or anything." It's a nice way of saying she didn't go too far in school. She doesn't explain the rest of the isolated upbringing or that most of the focus was other then skills required to wait tables or work as some check out chick.

"What do you think their meat here's like?" Lifting her gaze from the menu, she glanced over at him. Debating whether or not she's going to take a gamble with whatever meat is in the freezer out back, or knowing cities, sitting on some fly covered counter in tubs.

[Leon Davenport] He grin "I think it'll be fine. I"m having a ham and turkey sandwich with salad. You can wait to see if I fall down dead before ordering meat" He say with a playful smile "Really, i think the meat will be good" He lean back into his chair, his eyes on her "Would you mind me having a look at your resume? Not to get any info out of it, but just to look at it overall. Sometimes, it's all in the presentation."

He had his arm on the table and turned it so his hand was facing up when he added "I understand if you don't want me to look into your life, just trying to be helpful." He knew she liked her privacy, not having learned much about her in their first meeting and not much more today. He was fine with it. He respected that.

[Sofie Janssen] "Less about the falling down dead, more about picking between hormone fed animals or vegetables grown under pesticides," the Kinfolk pointed out with a lift of her brow and a twist of her mouth. It wasn't that amusing, but she knew how a few people could take her remarks. He can bet she's had more then a few arguments about this sort of thing since hitting the big cities.

When he asks about her resume, she glances away from her menu to the folder she has sitting on the table. Reaching out, she slides it off the table and instead of giving it to him, sets it on her lap out of sight. "I'd prefer not." She doesn't apologize. "I appreciate the help, but maybe later down the track if I haven't landed a job." Trust is hard to come by. He's an outsider. Never mind that he could track her down by scent alone or by a strand of her hair.

"So, I'm thinkin'..." This is her attention going back to the menu. "Water and a pasta salad."

[Remy de Tournieres] Remy, despite his ever-so-european name, isn't much of a coffee drinker. That said, it's assnumbing degrees below freezing, and the windchill coming off the lake makes him feel like his eyeballs are going to turn to ice and fall out of their sockets. So mostly for the promise of warmth it offers, Remy shoulders his way into the MagMile cafe. Standing just inside the door, huffing from the cold, he pushes the hood of his winter jacket down and unsnaps the collar down from his face. Halfway across the room, some girl loses her train of thought and keeps staring, glance after glance, until her boyfriend turns to see what she's looking at.

Then there's a minor commotion over there. Boyfriend gets up and storms over, girlfriend trailing pleadingly in his wake. Boyfriend has some idea of confronting the pretty dandy that just walked in, but

several steps away, that idea freezes ice cold in his chest at one guarded, unwavering glance from the Fenrir with the face. And the Rage. Boyfriend swerves aside and shoves out the doors instead. Girlfriend shoots Remy one last look and then follows, saying Baby, I wasn't... until the door shuts behind her.

Remy heads up to the counter. He orders a small hot chocolate, counts out cash, then stands around waiting for his drink. As he does, he stares up at the menu, wondering what the fuck would drive a man to pay nearly $6 for a cup of coffee. Then he looks around. Then he sees Sofie Janssen -- his kin, which makes all the difference in the world for the ornery young Fenrir -- sitting across from some smooth-looking bastard who probably paid $12, $20, for a cup of coffee on a regular basis.

So Remy rolls on over. He shrugs out of his big jacket as he goes, and it turns out not all that size was stuffing. The guy's built: built like a quarterback, built like a bull. Thick shoulders, wide chest, biceps as big around as most girls' thighs. He drops his jacket in an empty seat unceremoniously and pulls up another, crowding into the little cafe table. He smiles, and by god that smile is beautiful, a million watts, lights up the room, but his eyes are just a little too direct as they go from Sofie to fix on Leon.

"Hi," he says. And he leaves it right there.

[Leon Davenport] He grinned at her, not saying anything about her not showing him his resume. It was ok with "Sure, just let me know if you ever need it" He replied when she say hse mgiht ask later for his help. Some people wanted to prove themselves, do things alone, without help. He understood that and respected it. He was like that himself.

His eyes spotted Remy immediatly wehn the man stepped in. Big, fit, moving easilly, yes, the man could be a treath, all hormones, probably no brains...football player most likely. The scenes with the girl, amused him. Seem like caught the ladie's eyes easilly. Good for him, though when the guy backed away, a flag was raised in the back of his head. Might be something more to pretty boy. His attention went mostly back to Sofie when she told him about her order.

He was about to comment when the man came to their table and decided to sit with them "Hi"He replied back, his piercing blue eyes on Remy "May we help you?"He ask in a polite tone, his own rage starting to boil inside..He didn't liek his attittude and he especially didn't liek being interrupted while having lunch with a friend? well at least acquintance.

[Sofie Janssen] "Yeah, I will. You know, if I need it," she tells Leon. It's likely that she won't.

That girl wasn't the only one that looses her train of thought. When Remy comes rolling over and pulling up a chair, she turns her gaze towards him. At first she's wondering who the hell and the paranoid part of her mind is thinking it's going to be some suave partner of Leon's, but when she looks over it's someone completely unexpected.

Sharp eyes flicker quickly over his broad body, then up to his face. She grins before she can help herself, the expression growing brighter. "Heeey!" It's enthusiastic. Despite their last chat, she's glad to see him. "What are you doing here?" It's not an interrogation question, more like something asked casually. Surprised and welcoming rather then suspicious and trying to brush him off.

Leon's completely forgotten for a space of a few moments, at least from the Kinfolk. She's even shifted in her seat, turned subtly, but more towards the new arrival. Her attentions focused. Body language more open, forgetting how much he invades it.

[Remy de Tournieres] "Who's we?" Remy volleys right back. "She doesn't have anything to do with you. Not unless my entire family upped and turned into a flock of metrosexual yakkety-yaks while I was sleeping."

Then he leans right in. Yep, there it is: invasion of private space. He gets real close, almost eyeball to eyeball with the man, and the ridiculous thing is up close he gets even better looking. No wonder the girl stared until her boyfriend stomped off. Look at those chiseled cheekbones, that square jaw. Look at those dreamy dark eyes,

so full of rage.

He sniffs, a few short intakes, head cocking like a canine's. "And you sure don't smell like family," he pronounces, and sits back. "So don't act like there's any 'we's here."

The heel of Remy's hand rests on the edge of the table. When he tightens his fist, his knuckles pop lightly. He glances at Sofie at her enthusiastic greeting, and then he hikes a thumb over his shoulder. "Getting a hot chocolate," he says. "Freezing my dick off outside. You get home all right the other night?"

[Leon Davenport] He stared back at the man, clearly not impressed by the built, the attittude nor the rage. His eyes were cold, piercing and his own hands curled into fists "Now, talk about civility. Glad to know I came to a city and not some barren outback with dull witted inbreds. As for the we, well it would seem evident to me, but maybe you need some explaination since your single brain cell is worknig overtime. Sofie and I were jsut having lunch, as we're recent acquintances. So I doubt it's your problems, since as far as I know, you don't own her"

He look at Sofie for a moment, trying to contain his rge. SHe knew the man, she seemed friendly to him, and he was probably Garou. He din't felt liek picking a fight here, over someone he jsut met. They were somewhat on a firendly basis, nothing much and judging by the way she acted with him, it'll stay friendly at best. Fine, he could live with that. "Seem liek your friend need some time with you, and I have a few things to do"

His voice a colder, more flat than it had been before. He was trying to control himself, trying ot convince the guy wasn't his enemy, that he didn't need to tear him apart for her attention. He slowly got up "I'll be seeing you around"He say to her, or both, it was hard to tell.

[Leon Davenport] (sorry for looking like he's running away...it's 7am here..and it just seemed convienient to leave the scene at this point ;) )
to Remy de Tournieres, Sofie Janssen

[Remy de Tournieres] [aw, np man. catch you some other time!]
to Leon Davenport, Sofie Janssen

[Leon Davenport] ((thanks...will stay around for each of your next post..and then will have him exit))
to Remy de Tournieres, Sofie Janssen

[Remy de Tournieres] Every Fenrir is an Ahroun. That's the cliche, anyway, but the truth is if Remy were an Ahroun tables would be overturned, coffee would be flying, and faces would be breaking already.

Which means he must not be an Ahroun. Because the pretty, pretty bastard that just sat down at Leon and Sofie's table just leans his chair back on two legs and gives a shiteating sort of smirk. "That was a lot of big talk there, buddy, but even me and my single overworked brain cell can figure out which way your feet are walking. Don't let that door hit you in the ass on the way out, now."

And he tops that off with a cocky little two-fingered salute.

[Sofie Janssen] Sofie's talk takes a back seat as the two of them throw around some testosterone. At a few moments she opens her mouth to come to the defense of one or the other, but stays quiet at the last moment. She ends up nodding at Leon as he gets up to leave. "Yeah, alright. See ya," she tells him, watching him gather his jacket to leave.

When he does, she cuts a look to Remy, doing her best to withhold a smirk. "You just chased my lunch out the door." Not that Leon was her lunch. Surely he knew what she meant and it didn't matter too much that he didn't. The menu is folded and set aside. "Good thing I hadn't ordered." Since the prices are ridiculous.

The folder she had on her lap is now set on the table again. She doesn't care if Tribe catches hold of it. "As for the other night, yeah, I did."

[Leon Davenport] He took his jacket, nodded to Sofie and walked away, looking over his shoulder at Rëmy "Seem like I have more importnat things to do right now, but don't worry, we'll resume this conversation eventually. It wasn't a threat, jsut a fact. They will meet again..maybe they will come to blow or pretty boy will have put his moves on Sofie and will be satisfied and they could actually be civil to each other...then again.

He had serious doubts about it..first, he weasn't sure if Sofie was interested beyond his looks and two..he wasn't betting the man knew how to be civil. Well they'll see. And maybe if he end up holding Remy's tongue between his fingers, it will teach the other man a lesson. He put on his jacket as he exit, heading toward his room. He did have soem work to do, he just would do it right now instead of later

(night you two))

[Remy de Tournieres] "And you should thank me for that," Remy retorts. "Boys like only have one thing in mind, you know. Anyway, I'll take you down to Manny's and buy you a sandwich. Ten bucks, and a cute little thing like you can probably eat it for breakfast lunch and dinner."

He lets the front legs of his chair thump down as her folder comes up on the table. Without so much as a may I? he reaches across and grabs it, pulling it onto his lap as he rocks back again. "What's this?" He sounds genuinely curious as he flips it open. "Homework?"

[Sofie Janssen] "What's Manny's? Sounds like they get their stuff from the back of a truck." Lifting her brows, she doesn't sound too impressed, but isn't going to knock back the offer. Well, not until she see's what Manny's is like.

The cover is blue. Inside is plastic sleeves with paper fitted into it. She doesn't reach to snatch it back, just shrugs and leans her forearms on the edge of the table, folding them over each other. Unlike last he saw her, she's wearing a short sleeve, cream-white blouse and a pair of black pants. The synthetic leather shoes are cheap, new. Her hair is even in a ponytail, pulled away from her face, leaving it at sharp angles and showing small, unpierced ears. "It's a resume."

Which, as he reads it, doesn't have too much details on it. No formal education, but there's a list of apparently positive attributes and some work history with some references - not of which are going to get her too far in town. The references are from family friends and the likes rather then big business. She probably wasn't even on the books.

"Don't think it's going to get me far." Looking from him to the folder in his hands, she sighed and glanced towards the window, beginning to chew the inside corner of her lip.

[Remy de Tournieres] "Best deli in town, that's what. Anyway, that's what they say. I've only been there once, but their roast beef was pretty amazing."

Remy glances down the resume. It's not as though he has any particular work savvy, but even he can see that her education ends at high school -- or less -- and her references are all personal. He flicks his eyebrows, then closes the folder and hands it back to her.

"Yeah, it probably won't," he says, cheerfully and brutally honest. "But if this doesn't pan out, you could probably make a good living walking the streets."

[Remy de Tournieres] [er - home school!]

[Sofie Janssen] Her eyes roll when she takes the folder back from him and sets it on the table. She doesn't take his suggestion seriously, just gives him the classical girl look - part arched brow and that displeased expression. It vanishes in the next heart beat, and she drops her arms off the table to sit back.

"I'm sure I'll find something, eventually." If not she had a few other plans. Just might mean she could end up with an arrest record, and she really doesn't want to do that.

She's looking at him now that he's not poking his nose through her things, glancing over his ultra pretty features. "So who do you run with?" It's not Last Watch, she knows that much. "And is that Drew girl your mate?" Pale eyes are steady on him, watchful.

[Remy de Tournieres] But he doesn't let go of the folder when she rolls her eyes. He holds on until she looks at him, and then he locks eyes with her. Intense suddenly. Intent.

"Don't," he says. For a second it's not clear what the fuck he's talking about. "Don't walk the streets," he clarifies a moment later. "If you get that desperate, let me know. I'd rather hunt dinner down for you with my bare hands than let my kin whore themselves out."

He lets go the folder, sitting back. "Or, for that matter," he adds, "work some menial job somewhere where they're not paid a single ounce of respect. You hold out for something decent, even if it takes you a while. All right?"


If after all that she still asks about Drew, Remy's face slides back into that smirk. "Why?" he asks, question for question.

[Sofie Janssen] The Kinfolk makes a small sound with her tongue, a muted annoyance. "Seriously? I'm not going to do that. I have some pride of my own and my moral compass is a little high geared." As if he couldn't tell last time they had a conversation. Sometimes it even makes her a hypocrite as he points out.

She doesn't soften, exactly, but he can see the way that expression smooths out and she nods at him. It's slight, but it's a nod of respect. An acceptance, too. "Alright. I will," she says. "I appreciate it." If things get that tough she would, but she doesn't think it will get that far. She does stay with a few kin already, she just wants to pull her own weight like anyone with some self respect.

Folder back on the table, he smirks at her, and her teeth flash in a quick grin. Her eyes do, too. "Because I'm curious. She got awful defensive of you." Which amuses the hell out of Sofie, apparently. She's still watching him, his eyes more then his pretty features. It's not a stare, her gaze flits back and forth between each of his eyes often enough.

[Remy de Tournieres] Remy huffs a quiet laugh, smirk twitching a bit. Then his hot chocolate is finally arriving, and he leans back to give the waitress the wide berth she needs to set the drink down, because as easy on the eyes as Remy is, none of these humans girls really want to get close to them. They chalk it up to nerves. They tell themselves they're intimidated by how cute/hot/handsome/pretty/gorgeous/whatever-the-fuck he is, but the truth is some part of them react to him the way any prey reacts to a predator.

With fear. With distrust. He could pull them to him with that, turn fear into a sort of sick thrill -- but that's another can of worms altogether, and one he's not quite willing to open often.

Anyway. The waitress leaves soon enough, and Remy's still impressed that a cafe has a waitress as all. He's impressed that the cup he got is ceramic, not paper. He picks it up and blows across the surface, then takes a ginger sip before putting it back down.

By then the waitress is far away enough for him to answer. "She's not my mate," he says, "and I don't have a pack. Or a mate, for that matter. But Drew's family, like you. And I guess I just get on a little better with the kin than I do with Garou in this city."

[Sofie Janssen] While the waitress comes and goes, she sits back quietly, shifting her attention to the waitress and between the two of them, watching how the interaction goes about. It's not something she smiles about. She doesn't feel pity for the humans either. It's just the way things go, a reminder of what and who he is and that she's not in some Garou and Kinfolk orientated town anymore. This is the big city.

"She's pretty enough to be," Sofie tells him. It's an honest assessment and there's not a hint of bitterness, jealousy or even amusement about it. Maybe she's trying her hand at match making, but its more possible that she's making an idle remark. She's got a big mouth and a small filter. "But why are you running solo? I get there's a lot of pissing contests, and I can keep my nose out of it, but I'm curious. Don't you feel like..." her shoulder shrugs, "I don't know. Like an outsider?" Garou run in packs.

[Remy de Tournieres] "Yeah," Remy agrees, noncommittally as only the truly beautiful can be about another's attractiveness, "but the buzz amongst the spirits is that she's also recently widowed." And just like that Sofie knows: this unlikely creature with football-jock physique and, for that matter, the football-jock attitude is, in fact, a Godi. "I think a girl like that deserves a bit of space before guys start sniffing around her skirts again."

He sips from his hot chocolate, then, eyes on Sofie as she circles back to the topic of packs. There's a faint frown on his brow when he sets the mug down -- like he has to think about what he's going to say next. He's not quite as dumb as he looks, thank god, but it's quite clear he's not nobel prize winner either.

"I guess I do," he says. "But that's why I'm not in a hurry to find a pack, not the other way around. You talk about 'pissing contests' like they're a bad thing. They're all I know, except the way I've always seen them, someone leaves bloody and someone leaves victorious, and that's how you know who's boss and who's not.

"I was born to the Fenrir of the Normandy coast. You Americans think the French are a bunch of lilyfooting fags, and hell, maybe there's some truth in that for most of them. But you haven't seen hard until you've lived amongst a Sept of motherfuckers descended straight from the same motherfuckers that fucked the Angles and the Saxons like a bunch of little girls, kicked them out of their own country. Fenrir that made their bones conquering other Fenrir, now that's hardcore.

"Anyway," he gets back to the topic at hand, "I've been all over the world. Grew up everywhere. Germany. Norway. Iceland. England. Pennsylvania, Minnesota, but always hard Septs. Always hard Fenrir. It's weird for me here. Everyone keeps talking. No one steps up to bat. I did something the Fenrir Alpha didn't like and she just grumped about it. I expected to get beat down for it. There were Garou running around that aren't even part of the Sept, and they aren't ashamed. I expected to see them beat on until they joined up or left down. I don't ... get these Garou. I don't get all this peace love and understanding shit."

[Sofie Janssen] Her hands hold up when he tells her what she thinks about pissing contests. "Hey," she interrupted, if only briefly, "I didn't say that." Just as swiftly she backed off her own defense, listening to him as he continued. She's found herself leaning back against the table again, only a small bit of her weight against it, drawn in through her curiousity, learning about his life and how he sees the world.

"I haven't been here long enough, and I'm not in the middle of it all, but I know what you mean." At least she thinks she does.

"I'm from a small rural Sept, most of all is Fenrir," she tells him. "This is my first time out living in a big city. I've been to Seattle a few times, but always went back home. I've only got that to compare to the world. I've done no real traveling or nothing like that. But I grew up in a Sept, you know? A small town, a handful of folks and plenty of Kin. I know more about our culture then I do about the outside world, and that might seem stupid to some, but I do get what you mean."

There's a pause as she sits back, chews the inside of her lip briefly, then shrugs and goes ahead and says what she's thinking anyway, despite the possible repercussions. "It's like, take our last meeting and how I mouthed off. I expected you to come at me like that, right? So we have that in common. Actually, I expected you to squeeze some life out of my throat to be honest with ya." Shrugging that off, "But it's like, back home, some Garou would have stepped up and had a throw down with you long before a Kinfolk said shit."

"I guess I didn't understand it either."

[Remy de Tournieres] Remy shifts in his seat, brow furrowing, uncomfortable. He picks up his mug again and takes a long drink. Drains it. Sets it back down and licks a froth of whipped cream from his upper lip, still frowning.

"It's not right to hit the kin," he says. "You protect your kin. That's the deal. There's no glory in pummeling someone not your match, only shame. That's not to say I'm gonna let you get away with anything, because I'm not. You step too far out of line and I'll put you back, just like I expect my elders to do for me. That's my end of the deal.

"But if I can scare you into seeing where you went wrong, then that's a sight better than turning your face three colors to make the same point. You're kin," he says again, like it matters, "and I'm supposed to protect my kin."

He wipes his mouth quickly on the base of his thumb. Shifts his weight to one side, pulling his wallet out and counting out a rumpled bill to cover the tip. "Come on," he says. "I can feel my toes again. Let's go get some real food."

[Sofie Janssen] "Some Kin need more than a good scaring." Thankfully it's not her. She's got a little better sense than that and apologizes before anything gets too out of hand.

When he gets out money, she pushes her chair back and rises up. Her jacket is slipped on and her chair is pushed back in. "This Manny's had better be good." With a quick grin, she grabs up her folder and tucks it under her arm, following out towards the door.