It is currently 16:05 Pacific Time on Fri Oct 4 2002.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 60
degrees Fahrenheit (15 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in
from the southwest at 6 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.16 and
falling, and the relative humidity is 80 percent. The dewpoint is 54
degrees Fahrenheit (12 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waning No Moon phase (13% full).

Location: Falcon's Rest


There's been some thought put into the preperation for this evening.
Drinks and various munchies have been put out. Kristine'll put the food
out, but she's not going to wait on everyone for the entire evening. She
sits in one of the lounge chairs, and just..well..waits.

The sound of Apoc's big growling Honda roadbike can be heard outside,
growing louder as the Metis pulls in. The engine cuts off, and a few
moments later in comes the Galliard herself, headphones dangling around
her neck, the wire trailing into a pocket of her jeans. "Hidilly fuckin'
ho, good neighbors!" Apocalypse says, full of manic cheer. "What's the
fuckin' good word?"

Tobin walks into the living room from one of the other wings, hair wet
from a shower and his clothes newly washed and ironed. He actually looks
presentable compared to how he's been lately, what with running around the
bawn.

It's Apoc's grande entrance that brings Kristine out of her contemplative
waiting state and she just blinks. She'd seen the metis in passing before,
but, uh, was never around to truly ..uh, see her. "Well, someone's perky
today," She comments with a grin, before adjusting her position in the
chair, turning to look at Tobin, giving a nod, then back to the Metis,
"Don't think we've met 'formally'. Kristine Vaughn-St. David,
Stands-Proud, Theurge, Cliath, Fang. All that good stuff." She then turns
and looks behind her, towards the door, "Uh, see anyone come in behind
you?"

Apocalypse glances back. "Nope," she says energetically, hip-bumping the
door closed. Her eyes gleam at sight of the food Kris has put out, and she
makes a beeline for it, offering her introduction in passing.
"Defies-the-Apocalypse, Apoc fer short. Galliard, Cliath, freako Metis
bangbaby... Originally from th' fuckin' Green in Noo Yawk." She's already
grabbed a drink and is loading a napkin up with snack food.

Tobin shakes his head at Kristine as he enters the room and finds a seat.
"I haven't been able to contact anybody else," he says somewhat glumly,
though a hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he watches
Apoc's enthusiasm.

Kristine doesn't even have a chance to look..disappointed...for she's too
busy watching the new Fang just rip into her little set up. Well, at least
she isn't -too- messy. ANd New York? Well, that explains it. "Uh, the
'Green'? That mean Upstate?"

Apocalypse grins, one cheek bulging. She chews, swallows. "Nah, fuckin'
city. Caern's in Central Park. Mostly Gnawers... alpha's a real wacko old
bitch Theurge named Mother Larissa. Fuckin' oldest Garou you ever fuckin'
saw, I fuckin' swear. Hey, are those cashews? I fuckin' _love_ cashews."

Tobin's ghostly grin grows a little more substantial as he sits and
watches the two other Fangs get acquainted.

Kristine sits there for a moment, stunned, and then slowly, a wide grin
begins to spread on her face, and her eyes sort of light up in an 'All
Right!' look. Definately an expression of acceptance, and liking, for the
metis. "Ah, maybe I'll actually get around to meeting her one of these
years." She chuckles a little bit, then nods, "Yeah, those're cashews. My
favorite, too." And she's got HER bowl of nuts near her. Yay! "If you want
something to drink with more backbone, liquor cabinent's that way."

"Nah, I got it covered... 'less one a' youse scammed my Jolt from the
fridge." Apocalypse sets her napkin of snacks down and vanishes briefly
into the kitchen to fetch said hyper-cola.

Tobin watches the Galliard go and comments to Kristine, "Who needs Rage
when someone like /her/ has caffiene, eh?"

"She needs Jolt like I need another voice in my head..." Kristine comments
quietly to Tobin, before giggling a bit. "I know. It's refreshing, though,
I think. Definately like her already." She waits for Apoc to return, her
gaze occassionally going to the door, as if willing people to show up.

"I heard that!" comes Apoc's voice, all sing-songy and cheerful, from the
kitchen. She returns with a can of Jolt cola and a massive, manic grin.

Tobin follows Kristine's glance to the door and his grin fades back into
pensiveness. "I suppose we're it, at least for the moment. If anyone else
shows up late, I suppose they'll just have to catch up?" He pauses and
looks between the two other Fangs. "Shall we get down to business?"

Kristine sighs a bit, though the grin does stay thanks to Apoc's return.
She nods to Tobin, "Yeah." She looks to Apoc, "Just so we're on the same
page, you've already dealt with your Chiminage, right?"

Apocalypse piles as much snacks onto the napkin as possible, then takes
the whole thing over to a convenient chair, somehow managing to get there
and flop without spilling a single snack or a drop of cola. "Chimmy? I
fuckin' guess so," she says. "I mean, I fuckin' kicked ass for y'guys when
th' fuckin' Dancers were fuckin' ya, an' I fuckin' hauled trash ta fuckin'
hell an' back, too. That cool?" She takes a long swig of cola.

Tobin nods in confirmation. "She was with us in battle the night we did
the Rite of the Silver Forge. And she was with us in the Umbra the night
we took the caern back, I saw her there with Andrea's group. And I've seen
her cleaning the caern, too, alongside everyone else."

A sharp bark emanates from one end of the house. Moments later, a
brilliantly clean Chance trots into the room unassumingly. Quicker than
anyone can express outrage, the wolfen fang's muzzle disappears into a
bowl of chips, then emerges, munching happily, tongue reaching to taste
every last grain of salty goodness.

Apocalypse grins at the Ragabash, greeting him with lifted soda-can and a
cheerful, "Yo yo _yo_, lookee lookee, it'sa WOLFY. And fuzzy makes four."

Kristine looks from Apoc to Tobin, then shrugs, "Considering I have no
clue if Brittany gave you anything else, yup, that's cool." She then
blinks as she watches Val saunter in, and frowns, "Hey, ain't you got
manners, boy.." She says, deliberately adding a 'hick' drawl to her voice.
She then looks back tot he door, and offers to Tobin, "Fifty bucks says
that Britt's not going to show." She then takes a breath and grins, before
offering to Val, "You should shift up, because, if you stay like that,
that means I have permission to smack your muzzle with a rolled up
newspaper for being rude." She's obviously playing.

Chance's tail wags good-naturedly as he takes a single swipe at the chip
dip with a pink tongue. He then shifts smoothly to homid, grinning
sheepishly. "Oh, all right. I think you'd do it too, Kris. You get off on
hitting people." He winks.

Apocalypse stretches out denim-covered legs and toes off her orange
sneakers. The grin never leaves her face; it just waxes and wanes with the
ebb and flow of conversation. The mule's pale blue-lilac eyes dance.

A series of knocks contact the door. They are sturdy enough sounds, but
one follows the other with slight uncertainty.

"I'll get that." She walks by, and moves to deliver a kick to Val's shin,
for both his comment and for ruining the dip. Kristine then answers the
door, "Ayup?"

Valoran feigns mortal agony as he falls to the floor, clutching his ruined
shin. "His crying is truly piteous. It's a good performance. Very good.
Maybe he's done this before?"

Tobin actually edges away from the chip dip, glancing sourly at Valoran.
"Well, you've ensured that the dip is all yours now, certainly. Very
clever of you." He doesn't seem to be especially upset about it despite
his tone and look, though. He turns around at the knocks on the door and
looks to see who's there.

Apocalypse sniggers at Valoran's display, giving the extroverted Ragabash
all the attention and approval he could ever need. "God, I fuckin' love
this town," she says to nobody in particular. Her napkin's already empty,
and she's working on the can of Jolt steadily.

At the door, Wilbur is not facing in. His head is turned up to one side,
his eyes turned over his shoulder. They trace a wandering line in the
breezy night air, far-off, as if following something or another. His
groomed beard lends a look of wisdom to this otherwise confused
expression. When his eyes find Kristine, he slowly turns his head and
shows her a pleasant but befuddled smile. "Good evening," he greets. "Is
Miss Jefferson available?"

Kristine hrms a bit, tilting her head, her nose twitching to the side.
"Uh, no, actually, despite the fact you knocked, I was hoping you were
her." She pushes the door open a little more, and steps to lean against
the wall, there, so anyone that -can- recognize the man there, will.

Valoran's tears vanish as he stands, hobbling what appears to be painfully
toward the elder Silver Fang. "Mr. Wright! I haven't seen you in forever!"
He looks genuinely pleased to see the man, despite the fact that he's
clearly been maimed by some vicious attack.

Tobin immediately brightens upon seeing who's at the door and he calls out
cheerily. "Wilbur! Come in!"

Apocalypse waves enthusiastically at Wilbur from her chair. "Party party,
join the fuckin' fun!"

The huge Ahroun is quiet for seven seconds, his look one of concentration.
"I am not Miss Jefferson," he confirms to Kristine, and appears to be
confident in that conclusion. "I.... " His head cocks as he looks beyond
the woman. He shows a brief grin, and something seems to click in his
eyes. Ah, yes, his face seems to say. Now this is making sense. He turns
Kristine a look, bowing his head slightly. "May I?" It is about this point
that he hears what sort of fun in which he has been invited to
participate. Slight confusion again-- wait.

Kristine's grin seems to match the atmosphere inside, "Sure, why the hell
not." ESpecially since everyone has recognized him. She turns, and in
passing, moves to deliver another kick to the 'uninjured' shin of Valoran.
"Don't eat the dip though, it's got Val-doggy-germs." She then moves to
sit down.

Boom! Down he goes again, wailing like he's been stuck with a silver
klaive.

"Medic!" Apoc chirps brightly. "Man down! Man down!"

Tobin stands up and makes introductions. "Will, I don't think you've met
her yet, but this is Kristine, Theurge Cliath of our tribe," he says,
gesturing towards Kristine. He then reverses the gesture to indicate
Wilbur while speaking to Kristine. "This is Wilbur Right, the Ahroun who I
mentioned to you before who helped train me."

Wilbur shuts the door behind him, thumbing it locked. The room is surveyed
briefly-- the shrieking Ragabash is shown a look of stern dismay. His eyes
flicker to Tobin, and he studies the boy a moment before his attention is
turned to Kristine-- along with the offer of a hand. "Ma'am."

Kristine's expression lifts again, "Oh! Wonderful!." She stands up, and
takes the hand offered, giving it a shake. "I am quite pleased to meet
you, Mr. Wright." Hoooboy, this must look positively odd. The Silver
Fangs' very own Mutt and Jeff!

Valoran pulls himself along the floor this time, the yells subsiding into
whimpers as he hoists himself onto the couch with Apoc reaching out to her
in powerless dismay. His eyes, however, sparkle with amusement and he
winks at the mule.

Apocalypse leans over and grasps Valoran's hand in her own firm grip,
grinning like a loon all the while. "Here, poor 'coz, lemme fuckin' help
you up. Poor baby. Did th' mean ol' Kris fuckin' hurt you baaaaaaad?"

"How do you do?" says Wilbur to Kristine, then, his shake firm and his eye
contact level-- though he is the first to look away. This is not
necessarily a sign of submission: he is looking at Valoran. His eyebrows
have inched toward his hair. "I say.. Mr. Gray."

Kristine sighs and puts her hands on her hips, "Val, get up or I'll
-really- hurt you." She then turns to Wilbur, "Just have a seat, help
yourself, but avoid the dip." She gesutres to the coffeetable. "We're
having an informal meeting of sorts, to discuss all things tribal."

Tobin rolls his eyes at Valoran and retakes his seat, surveying the antics
of his tribe and slowly shaking his head in a vague sort of wonderous
disbelief.

Valoran looks up at the Ahroun, grinning widely. "Yes, Sir?"

Apocalypse settles back into a boneless, careless slouch, legs drawn up
and bare toes curled around the edge of the chair. She nurses her soda,
watching with a crooked grin.

Wilbur's mouth opens as if he were about to ask something, but that
question fades as he turns his face just slightly to one side. There is
sternness, however, in his eyes-- they linger on the Ragabash a moment,
and then the last semblences of his comment have evaporated. "An informal
meeting," he repeats, then. "I see.. ah. What issues are we discussing at
present?"

"We hadn't actually gotten to the issues quite yet, actually," Tobin says
with a token glare at Valoran.

Valoran adopts a fake british accent. "At present, we're squabbling over
the dePLORable lack of decorum that plagues our present day tribe. We
could certainly do with a bit of serious contemplation, wouldn't you say,
old man?"

"Hum," replies Wilbur with a polite distress that can only be shared by a
proper Victorian gentleman who, having decided for a much-needed holiday
away from his dreary study, has come for a bit of the tomfoolery and
shenanigans-- mayhaps a bit of the bebop!-- and has found himself in the
centre of Rick's Party Jungle Surf Bar, tophat-deep in ecstacy-pumped
preteens seizing to the epilepsy-inspiring mixture of bad Japanese techno
and strobelit bubbles, their twitching telegraphed by the twirl and thrust
of glowsticks whilst they acquaint their anatomy with perfect strangers in
a four foot thick pool of foam in which, as the DJ likes to announce,
ANYTHING CAN HAP-HAP-HAPPEN.

If Wilbur had a monocle, it'dve popped out by now.

Apocalypse, the poster girl for lack of decorum, finishes off the last of
her Jolt and chucks the can, with fair accuracy, at Valoran's head.

"Well, I'll leave that up to you all, for now. Since I'm nice that way..."
Kristine opens her hands up to the gathered, "What is first and foremost
on -your- mind, and we can hash it out." She then looks to Val, "I'm going
to pop you with something--" She then watches the can sail and nods to
Apoc, "Thank you."

Apocalypse beams at Kris and gives the meeting's leader a rather sloppy
version of the Rimmer salute from _Red Dwarf_.

"I, ah.. " Wilbur's eyes follow the can's flight path. He looks
distracted. "Would like to ask, first, where is Miss Adams. Has she taken
some sort of holiday? I do not believe I have been able to find her."

Kristine's brow raises as she turns to look at Wilbur, "Uh, who?"

Tobin looks confused as well, looking around at the other Fangs for some
clue as to who Wilbur is referring to.

Valoran grins and laughs. "Duh, guys. He's talking about Brit."

Kristine blinks owlishly at Val, then to Wilbur, then to Tobin, "We're
going backwards. Now he's going to call her Miss Washington."

Wilbur's look grows momentarily odd when that name is mentioned-- but he
blinks, and nods slowly, as he paces, his footsteps swallowed by the lush
persian rug. "Pardon. I do mean the Philodox, Sterling-the-Pure."

Kristine gives a snort, her tone carrying an edge of bitterness,
"Somewhere not here. I Haven't seen her in ages." She crosses her arms
slightly, apparently a woman of bigger 'tude and mouth than her body.

"She fuckin' off wit' one'a those packs off fuckin' Gaia knows where,
mebbe?" asks Apocalypse, ignorant of the fact that Brittany belongs to
neither Reforged nor Ouroboros.

Tobin's expression sours and he nods in agreement with Kristine. "She's
off somewhere, and who knows where. And no, she didn't go with Andrea or
Nightflash. She's been gone since we took the caern back."

Valoran snorts. "Yeah... check Elizabeth Arden's in New York. She's
probably treating herself to a mud bath and a cucumber facial...."

Wilbur blinks so slowly that it would seem in mind is in the deepest of
thoughts. His hand trails across the back of the sofa as he passes it, and
then he has folded his arms behind his back. The Caern? Andrea?
Nightflash? Brittany doing what with cucumbers? But those are no questions
for a gentleman to ask. Instead a new one arises, borne of concern and
cavalier notions: "Do you suppose, then, that we may need to find her?"
His confused look begins to clear. "Do you think she may be in danger?"

Kristine sighs a bit and shakes her head, "I wouldn't worry too much about
it, Mr. Wright. She does this. She disappears for months at a time, then
comes back. In the three or so years that I've been with this Sept..I've
seen her..for roughly a year's amount of time."

Tobin says quietly, "Brittany has been more than lax in her duties as
Elder. Andrea was going to do something about it just before the caern
fell. It's been more than obvious for a long time that she's no longer fit
to lead us, which leaves us with the obvious question." He lets the
thought trail off, glancing around at each Fang present.

Apocalypse sticks a hand up. "I nominate Valoran!"

Valoran leaps up, standing on the couch, with a foot on the back of it. "I
accept. I will faithfully execute the duties you have bestowed upon me in
all humility. I swear it." He points to Wilbur. "You there. Coffee, cream,
no sugar." He points to Kris. "And you... put the kettle on. I should like
some tea with crumpets after my coffee."

"Where is it that Sterling goes?" asks Will, cutting in-- it is not
polite, but his rousing consciousness has seized on the topic of Miss
Jefferson. "Has no one investigated? Is it the Other Side she goes to? Do
not forget what happened to our brothers and sisters of Golden Sky who
shared that habit."

Kristine turns to look at Tobin for a moment, the way her eyebrows come
down, it's eviden tthat that's a topic that's been weighing heavily on her
mind, but she turns to look at Apoc as she nominates Val for the
eldership, and then Val makes a mess of it. "Uh, that's a no in my book."
She picks up a cookie and flings it at Val, her aim also rather good, and
she always goes for the head. She then looks to Wilbur, "She doesn't tell
anyone. And I don't pry. I respect people's privacy until they give me a
reason to do otherwise. Last time she did this, she just went back home to
Virginia. You can call and see if she's there, or if they have any clue to
where she's gone."

Apocalypse just gives that big toothy grin of hers, unabashed and
unrepentant. She uncoils and heads briefly into the kitchen, returning
shortly with the other five-sixths of the sixpack of Jolt.

Tobin glowers at Valoran then ignores him and explains to Wilbur.
"Brittany is also a lawyer. It may be that she's just been off
doing...lawyer things. More likely she went back home."

The Ahroun's eyes slip half-lid, then, as he wanders the parlor. Lawyers
and family get-togethers are far more anticlimactic than he had hoped; he
is precisely the type of man who lives to rescue a Princess-- perhaps he
has before. "It is difficult for me," he rumbles. "That we should not be
led by Her Highness, Sterling-the-Pure, Princess of Virginia. So it is in
her absence that I nominate Calls-the-Spirits-to-Battle to assume
eldership of the Silver Fangs here gathered."

Valoran chokes. "I'm sorry.. you didn't say.... Are you serious?"

Kristine's eyes move to rest on Tobin, then to Val. Her expression's gone
remarkably...unexpressionate. "Val, be serious, and cast a vote. You too
Tobin. We'll do this democratically. I don't want this tribe lead by
someone who all of us as a whole don't want there." She then looks to
Apoc, "If Val isn't your serious vote, you should cast a serious one. And
I'll help any of you, that get chosen. And I'll abstain, you see, because
if Brittany did show up, I was planning to take back what I gave to her.
That'd be Eldership. But, since she isn't here, I want to know what you
all think."

"I reckon as serious as you are silly," Will replies to the
Ragabash;"Mister Gray, you damned buffoon." His look is sharp now-- alert,
intense, far more animated than the confused brute from before, a titan
freshly escaped from the imprisoning volcano.

Valoran gets serious suddenly. "Kristine. Kristine should be elder. Tobin,
with all due respect, you've only been Cliath for a few months, for the
love o' the Mother."

Tobin's eyes go wide and he stands up and stares at Wilbur, looking
utterly floored. His jaw works up and down a bit before he's able to find
his voice. "Ah, I'll have to decline that nomination, though I thank you
for your confidence in me, but I just can't..." he trails off weakly, then
nods at Valoran. "Kristine was Elder before, and that's who I was going to
nominate."

"Calls-the-Spirits has been here for far longer, Mister Gray," replies
Wilbur, his pacing bringing him closer. He tugs on the sleeve of his suit.
"But in those months he has shown the wisdom and the will necessary to
lead." His eyes are on the boy, his chin lifted in a single jerk as the
young Theurge attempts to beg out. "Dutastachna," he whispers sharply. "Ya
ni saglasin, tyelyonakloona. Plokha!"

"Remind me to nickname him Bubba..." Kristine murmurs rubbing her
fingertips to her forehead. Though, despite her desire to wrestle the
mantle of Elder from Brittany, she still blushes hearing she's being voted
for. She'll eventually quit being so damned humble one of these years.
"Right. Anyone else have anything to say? This time in English?"

"Kid's got my fuckin' vote," Apocalypse says, chipping in with her
opinion. She slants a grin over at Tobin.

Valoran grins. "Kristine..looks like you get the tie breaking vote."

Tobin makes a slashing motion in the air with one hand and says sharply to
Wilbur, "Nyet! Ya nishd--" he breaks off as he realizes he is not, in
fact, speaking English. "No, Will, I need more experience in this life
before I'm to lead. More deeds before the sept will accept me." He sighs
and shakes his head, looking upset. "Excuse me, I...need to step outside a
moment." And he steps out the back door without another word.

Kristine's teeth bare slightly, grimacing, or sneering, whichever people
prefer. As Tobin leaves, she glances down to the ground, boring a hole
into the carpet, or she would if she had laser vision or something. Her
laced fingers bring thumbs up to tap against one another in a perfect 4/4
time, and she just..thinks. The only thing she offers, for now, is a
general, "Let him be," To anyone that wishes to follow after him. It's a
request, out of respect, but if people wnat to go, then that's their
business.

Apocalypse lifts a shoulder in a careless shrug, sipping her Jolt, her
grin all slanted.

Valoran yawns suddenly. "Well, this has been nice. I've cast my vote, and
the other leading candidate's backed out. I'd say that make you the
bee-otch in charge, Kristine. Congrats... Now, I'm gonna head for bed...
You comin' along, baby cakes?" He waggles his eyebrows at Apoc jokingly.

Wilbur's eyes follow the young Theurge and his departure, disappointment
and irritation in tow. The expression that crosses his face is the precise
type that he would get before reducing the boy to raw hamburger after a
day's dissatisfaction in cub training. But Tobin is a cub no longer, and
it is obvious that it pains the Ahroun to see Tobin back down from his
birthright. Wilbur does not follow-- yet. His facial scars untwist, and he
pulls a breath strongly in through his nostrils. His eyes rest on
Kristine.

Apocalypse smirks at Val. "In yer fuckin' dreams, fuzzyhead," she says,
amiably. "Sorry, gotta leave ya t'Rosie Palm's tender mercies."

Valoran chuckles before turning to Wilbur. "It's been good seeing you,
Sir. Please don't make yourself a stranger." There's no trace of joking in
his voice. Nothing but respect.

There's unexpected laughter from the tiny Theurge. "YEs, definately going
to like you. Similiar to Di. Rare few could dare to compare with her." She
then stands up, and turns to look up at the big Ahroun. "I know you'd like
to see Tobin be Elder." She looks to Apoc, "You too, probably the only
Fang you've really gotten along with." She shakes her head, "But he
doesn't want it. Not right now."

There's unexpected laughter from the tiny Theurge. "YEs, definately going
to like you. Similiar to Di. Rare few could dare to compare with her." She
then stands up, and turns to look up at the big Ahroun. "I know you'd like
to see Tobin be Elder." She looks to Apoc, "You too, probably the only
Fang you've really gotten along with." She shakes her head, "But he
doesn't want it. Not right now." She lifts her hand to wave to Vale, "You
be good, and take your damn dip with you, punk."

Valoran picks up the bowl, taking another lick of it before setting it
down. "Mmmmm." Then he heads upstairs to his room.

Apocalypse shrugs again, completely affable and easy-going. "Fuckin' cool,
fuckin' okay. Fuckin' chilly-groovy." She wiggles fingers at Valoran in
parting, still slouched on the chair.

Wilbur nods, a single jerk of his chin, to Valoran, but his eyes have not
moved from Kristine. They drop, and look away. It is a wolf's respect.
"Then, I swear fealty to you, and trust in you, that you will assume the
mantle of leadership in honor and all the responsibilities that it
entails."

"What he said," Apocalypse offers, casually. She takes another long swig
of cola and lets out a short belch.

It -is- kind'a hard to divert your eyes to someone who's over a foot
shorter than you, ain't it. She smiles a little bit, "If it makes you feel
any better, I plan to make Tobin Beta. Kid's got real potential, and the
only way he's going to learn things is to ride shotgun." She says this
quietly, though, her own issues preventing her from really rolling in the
position. "First thing I want is a roll call, do it Mickey Mouse style if
you want. I don't want to lose track of my people."

Apocalypse follows the short belch with a shorter one, then takes another
drink. "Ya want my celly nummy?" she asks Kristine. "I mean, I'm usually
sleepin' elsewhere these days." She grins crookedly, the expression
somewhat wicked.

The Ahroun's right eye twitches when Apocalypse emits the first of her
unpleasant noises, but it is not fully registered as his attention--now
clouded-over, semi-confused as before-- is settled on Kristine. "He will
serve you well," Wilbur attests. "He already has-- he is a good boy, and
very bright. He could do so much." He looks a little placated, now, though
the second belch does not help.

Kristine just smiles to Wilbur, "He spoke highly of you. I can see why. If
Tobin's a testimony to how well you train cubs..well..Let's just say I
can't wait to get a new one." She then looks to Apoc, and is apparently
unphased by her behavior. "Well, that'd be nice. And there's a spare room
or two here, I think, if you want to just adopt one."

"I got livin' arrangements," says the punkish Galliard, with more of that
wicked grin. "Gimme a pen and paper 'r some shit an' I'll write it down
for ya. Th' fuckin' number, that is."

Kristine's hands disappear into the pocket of her blazer, producing a
small notebook and a pen. She hands it to the other woman, calmly as can
be. "How are your contacts, out of curiousity?" SHe looks to both here, a
question posed for them both.

Apocalypse scrawls out a phone number, writes, "Apocalypse," above it, and
offers the notebook back. "Contacts?"

Wilbur nods his head once to Kristine, a quiet "Thank-you, ma'am" made. He
produces his wallet-- a black unsmiling affair-- and locates therein a
small crisp white card. The wallet is shut with one hand, and replaced.
"If you do mean by that what humans are available to us," he says. "I have
a man by the name of Upton, a kinfolk to our tribe in high standing. He
controls a real estate agency. Our specialization would be land deals and
large sells." The card is offered: indeed, it names Mr. Wilbur Right as a
real estate agent and consultant.

"Kin, and Kind both. We're not exactly remarkable here, I want to fix
that." She pauses, and takes the card a nod of thanks to Wilbur. SHe tucks
the card in the notebook and then tucks the items back in the blazer
pocket. Kristine sits down again, sighing a bit. "I've also thought about,
perhaps, trying to encourage some of the Garou here to wed."

Apocalypse makes an 'oooh' noise of comprehension. "_Contacts_.
Riiiiight." She tucks the pen behind her single ear. "Um, all th' fuckin'
people I know that youse guys fuckin' _don't_ know are all out on th'
other fuckin' coast." She scratches at the scar tissue where her other ear
should be. "I mean, I'm datin' this guy at the college, but he ain't
_connected_ unless ya need somethin' at the theater..." She blinks a
little at Kristine's mention of 'mawwiage'.

Kristine turns to smirk a bit at Apoc, "You're excempt, of course."

Apocalypse grins broadly. "Figured. S'good. Rick ain't Fang blood.
Probably ain't fuckin' even kin. But oooh, those _eyes_ of his... a girl
could fuckin' drown..." She tilts her head back, her expression blissful.

Kristine tilts her head at Wilbur and sighs, "Actually--we have a distinct
shortage of Kinfolk. Which is why this entire tribe isn't in that sorry
ass state of supposed wedded bliss." She snorts slightly, "Buncha bullshit
if I ever heard it. 'Specially when nearly ninety percent of them are
arranged." She shrugs, then tries to be a little more.. 'reserved',
"Sorry, Fianna influence," She says to Wilbur, as if to explain her
personality 'slip'. She turns to Apoc, "Oh, hush, I hadn't had sex in
nearly five years."

"Good fuckin' GAIA, woman!" says Apoc, aghast. "Get yourself some fuckin'
man-meat. Really. Bump uglies fer a night. Shit!"

Wilbur keeps his expression simple. "It is unfortunate," he says by way of
politeness,"That there are so few kinfolk. They are very precious to us,
able to walk among Men when we cannot. What occupations do they hold,
here, that aid us?" His hand comes to clasp his wrist.

"Man Meat?" Kristine just gives Apoc a look of ..well..surprise, "That's
been Even..." She then cuts off, looks to Wilbur, and flushes crimson.
Ahem. While the urge to spout 'Black Fury Influence' is there, she
tactfully keeps her mouth closed. "Actually, the last Silver Fang Kinfolk
left about two years ago."

"I do not believe Miss Kristine has the need for any man meat." Wilbur
holds a serious, somber look, though he looks vaguely confused. "That is
clearly a violation of the Litany. And it has an unpleasant taste." He
shakes his head. "But I fail to see what this has to do with the topic at
hand-- I want to know what kinfolk are useful to us."

Apocalypse rolls her eyes upward, sniggering, and mutters, "She wouldn't
hafta put it in her fuckin' _mouth_..."

Kristine blinks, looking at Wilbur. Her expression is just...priceless.
It's this odd mix between shock, disbelief, and utter hysterics. Yet, the
hysterical laughter follows through, and the Ex-Elder-Turned-New-Elder
falls on the floor, her laughter further increased thanks to Apoc.

The unconventional Galliard beams brightly at Kristine's response and
lifts her can of Jolt in a salute.

Wilbur is faintly alarmed by this, looking between both strange females.

And just think, the giggling little waif's your Elder. BEWARE! Actually,
her resume, and all the shit she's been through would probably impress
hardened Garou. She kicks a bit then stands up, "Uh, Man-meat..uh, slang
for male genetalia. She's refering to having sex. You know. How you make
babies?"

"Rutting!" Apoc clarifies, cheerfully.

"Hum. Mating." Wilbur's look is impassive, stitched in scars. "I see."
Still, his question is not answered.

Kristine just shakes her head laughing, seemingly even MORE amused at
Wilbur's look. "I told you. We don't have Kinfolk in St. Claire. Not Fang
ones. I know there's a Walker Kin that works in a Lawyer firm, but that's
it. Hell, even the Fianna Kin seem to be hiding."

Apocalypse finishes off the can -- her second? third? -- and belches
again. She hefts the empty in her hand, consideringly.

The gentle giant has started to turn a little pink; for one instant he
looks all of his twenty-seven years, beard, frosty hair, and sharp suit
aside. The instant passes. "An attorney," he remarks, clearing his throat.
"That is fortunate. What does he specialize in?"

Kristine scratches her head, turning to look at Apoc. "I bought more of
that, by the way. I saw the Sixpack in the fridge, so I figured someone
got it, might as well stock up. Check the crisper drawer in the fridge."
She turns back to Wilbur, not bothering to stand up from the floor. It'll
be safer if she gets into another giggle fit, "Uh, Corporate Law I think."

Apocalypse grins. "Bitchin'." Then she slams the empty can against her
forehead, intending to crumple it. It dents a little at best. "Ow," says
the Galliard, rubbing the impact mark. For a moment, it stands out starkly
against her pale skin, and then fades, vanishing in seconds. She leans
over, grabs another can from her current six-pack, and cracks it open.

Wilbur is not privy to that suspicious process; he does not deign to watch
Apocalypse anyhow, his eyes on Kristine though she sits on the floor. "And
others?" he prompts.

"There was Mary Kaftan, Megan's mother, she was a teacher at SCCU. But I
don't think she's around anymore. There's a few Kin who teach there, since
it seems to be a breeding ground for Garou. I'll ask around, see what we
got in the works." Kristine offers.

"Hum." Wilbur shakes his head. "I do not understand; there are usually so
very many."

Apocalypse scratches at her ear-scar. "Mebbe they're hidin'?" she
suggests, not all that seriously.

Kristine stands up, "I wouldn't be surprised. With the Caern falling, they
probably buggered out of town to avoid any backlash should we have failed
to take it back." She crosses her arms, her brows coming down in a frown.

"An' there was that one bitch who turned traitor, yeah?" Apocalypse
wrinkles her nose.

"That is true," Wilbur murmurs, a hand brought up to thumb his beard.
Caern falling? "My wife was to join her father and myself here, but
circumstances made it unwise. --A kinswoman has betrayed us?"

Kristine uhs and looks to Apoc, "Huh? I'm a bit out of the loop on
Betrayals Monthly.."

Apocalypse blinks. "Back when the Dancers were in town?" She scratches at
her head, fingers digging into the messy platinum blonde hair. "Some
Strider kin, fuckin' heard she was around for fuckin' ages. Two kids.
Turned traitor, killed an' ate one of th' fuckin' kids. Was a fuckin'
unchanged Garou, too." She bares her teeth slightly.

Kristine just...stares. "Damn. That's... damn." That's the only thing she
can come up with that kind of horrific atrocity.

Wilbur's eyes widen; he has nothing to say to this.

"Met hers, though, for fuckin' certain." Apocalypse has no grins for this,
no smiles. She slugs down some more Jolt. "Th' other kid's off wit'
another Strider kin. Anyway... long since taken care of."

Kristine just dips her head and shakes it. "That..There are no words that
can even express what I feel. At least she's dead, though, she probably
'died' long before that." She turns to sit down in her chair again.

"Yeah, well." The Galliard shrugs, her expression still grim; it doesn't
sit well on her face, really.

"When the Enemy sinks in his talons," Will remarks. "We are no longer
ourselves." He shakes his head. "I should see to Mister Tobin."

Kristine tilts her head and nods, "OKay. 'Sides, gives me time to get to
know a little bit more bout our most recent addition." SHe indicates Apoc.

Apocalypse lifts her eyebrows. The grin returns, albeit in a quirky, muted
form.

"It was good for all of us to gather together," Will says, showing them a
nod. "And, I suppose, to decide a leader in the wake of the disappearance
of Her Highness. Miss Kristine-Rhya." He takes his leave.

Kristine inclines her head, "IF you have anything else to bring up, PLEASE
Don't stew on it, tell me. Communication's important."

The back door opens just then and admits Tobin, who is looking quite a bit
more centered than he was when he left earlier. He looks around and frowns
very slightly. "Where's Valoran?" he asks calmly.

Kristine turns to look at Tobin, then chuckles, "Wilbur just left to check
up on you, and Val went to bed. Congrats, you're in a position of
Authority..." Her eyes twinkle slightly.

Apocalypse whistles 'God Save the King'.

Tobin's eyes narrow with suspicion as he looks between Apoc and Kris.
"Excuse me?" he says cautiously.

Kristine gives a bully British Salute, and does remarkably well at keeping
a straight face.

Apocalypse doesn't keep a straight face at all. She breaks, giggling.

Tobin snorts in wry amusement as Apoc starts giggling and seats himself in
a chair. He steeples his fingers together and is silent for a moment
before speaking. "In that case," he says in a perfectly serious tone, "I
have a project for us."

Kristine's brow arches as she turns to the 'Leader', "Oh?"

Apocalypse sprawls, one leg hooked over the arm of her chair. "Dooooooooo tell."

Tobin says evenly, "It's come to my attention that the St. Claire Zoo has
been abandoned for several years, and that we need a new base of
operations in the city."

Kristine turns, all parts of playing seem to have melt from her features,
and she listens to Tobin. Her head bobs in a 'Go on' motion, though, the
tone of that bob is less like his subordinate, and well, at least an
equal.

Apocalypse listens attentively, chugging Jolt.

Tobin does, indeed, continue. "I suggested this before to Sepdet and Rina,
but they weren't too warm with the idea, because the zoo is apparently so
close to the hospital. It's probably even infested. But if it could be
taken, and quickly, we might be able to use it as our own. A safe place in
the city that could even be used as a staging point for attacks against
the hospital." He watches the other two for their reactions.

Kristine blinks a bit here, having heard.. not so nice stories.. about the
hospital. "It -is- risky. It's a good idea, just..risky."

"Life's risky," Apocalypse opines, cheerfully. She doesn't seem at all
worried. "Yeah, it sounds pretty good."

Tobin nods once. "We can at least do some scouting. Once my pack is
complete we'll be able to do some very effective umbral scouting. If it
turns out it's too risky to take the zoo, then we'll at least know that,
whereas we don't know anything now."

Kristine gives a thumbs up to that. "Good. Thinkin' like a Beta should,
there." She offers, before asking, "How is your pack coming along?"

Apocalypse shifts around, reaching under her shirt to scratch idly at her
belly. Her expression turns a little wistful at mention of pack, but it
hardly makes a dent on her good mood. Her now quiet relaxed good mood --
though how Miss Hyper gets _mellow_ on a sixpack of Jolt is a mystery.

Tobin starts to answer about the pack but stops and eyes Kristine
suspiciously. "I'm sorry, did you say Beta?"

Kristine tilts her head with a smirk, "I did. You didn't think I was
-completely- fibbing about that position of Authority, did you?"

Tobin doesn't look convinced. "Does Valoran know about this? Did he agree
to it?"

"He left before I could bring it up. Wilbur was convinced you'd make a
good leader, Val's.. I haven't seen much potential in that department,
Brigid just isn't interested.." Kris tilts her head, "If you don't want
to, I'll understand, but I figured it'd be a good compromise for me being
Elder instead of you."

"Val's a Rag, ain't he?" Apocalypse blinks a bit, her smile crooked.
"'Sides, if Krissy here's alpha queen bitch of us royal-types, what's he
gonna say if she taps you her fuckin' right-hand?"

Tobin nods, looking resigned. "I had a feeling this would happen," he says
with a sigh. "You're right, of course. Valoran has been nearly as absent
as Brittany at times. And Valoran can always challenge me for the
position, if he cares enough, that is."

Kristine laughs a bit at Apoc, and shakes her head, before turning back to
Tobin. "Would you like it? Do you want it? I may be Elder, but I'm not a
dictator."

Tobin shakes his head slowly. "It still feels to early for this, but the
time for it isn't so far off now in any case. No, I accept, it was the way
things had to be. Valoran is a good Ragabash, but he's just not
responsible enough to keep to those duties." He rubs at his eyes. "What
I'm worried about is that he'll feel upstaged, since he's been here longer
than I have."

Apocalypse rolls her head back. "Fuckin' _gawd_," she says. A shory laugh.
"Tobey, you got the fuckin' oldest head of anybody in this room. Fuckin'
older than Val's, anyway."

"I nominate her for our new spokesperson." Kristine points towards Tobin.
"It isn't being around longer that matters Tobin. IT's what you've done,
who's got your respect, your mind and your heart. That's what matters. If
it was Time In Service, than we'd all still be following Brittany."

"I _am_ a fuckin' Galliard, after all," Apoc drawls in her thick New York
City accent, in response to Kris' nomination. She grins.

Tobin scowls slightly but nods. "*I* understand that, about how people
think, about respect, but that doesn't mean that Valoran won't be upset
anyway. We'll see, though, and of course you have the power to override
him."

Kristine hmms a bit, and nods, "Considerate. Good quality, don't lose it."

"It'll be cool," Apoc states. "Cool an' fuckin' froody. Hoopy."