It is currently 12:36 Pacific Time on Wed Feb 1 2006. Currently in Saint Claire, it is partly sunny. The temperature is 46 degrees Fahrenheit (7 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the south at 13 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.84 and rising, and the relative humidity is 82 percent. The dewpoint is 41 degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius.) Currently the moon is in the waxing Crescent Moon phase (21% full). Safehouse: Common Area(#2947RAJ) The foyer of this house is set off from the living room with its octagonal bump-out by a four foot high halfwall. Stairs lead up from the foyer, turning and disappearing to the right, and a wooden door with a keycard lock claims the wall opposite the living room. The rest of the main floor is taken up by a small bathroom across the hallway from a dining room which is separated from the kitchen at the back of the house by another half-wall. The decor is decidedly sparse - white walls, beige carpeting in the living and dining rooms and down the hall, unremarkable vinyl in the foyer and kitchen. A used couch and a pair of recliners are grouped around a coffee table in the living room, with a foursome of wooden chairs claiming the bump out for quieter conversation. The dining room boasts a white laminate table with four aluminum and vinyl-upholstered chairs - too new to be 'vintage', too old to be trendy. The appliances and cupboards in the kitchen are new - or at least refurbished to look like it - and a door leads out to the backyard from there. Up the stairs are a number of empty rooms where anyone affiliated with the Sept can crash and an office for private meetings. The Glass Walkers have their own area accessible via a locked door off the foyer. The main doors themselves lead back out to the front porch of the house. "I guess not," Kevin agrees. "I don't know what I'd do if one of my packies ended up in a fight with me, but thankfully it's not happened yet. If they can iron it out again, good for them. You know I think KL's pretty monster, and Gunnar... well, I'll never understand him as long as I live, but I kind of like the mad viking bastard." He takes a drink of coffee, eyes moving from Emma to Tu to the heap of broken furniture. "Yeah," he muses, "I'll see if I can find Olga or Basil and ask if they've a use for it." The more observant might notice Tu eyes Kevin curiously when he talks about fights in his own pack, but the older Walker doesn't share whatever thought crosses his mind. "Fighting is a side effect of who we are. There aren't many of us who are good at holding out tongues, unless there's a claw at our throat." Emma nods in agreement to Tu. "Hell Kevin, look at me and Natalie. We were always - bitching back and forth, well it was more my bitching and her posturing, but still." "Well, me and Brom fight," Kevin concedes. "And me and Dillen. But not 'cos we're mad, it's to keep our claws sharp and our reflexes sharper." He shadow-boxes for a couple of seconds. "God, Natalie... I wonder how she's doing back east... what's happened with her Dad. She kind of drove me nuts, how she used to keep me on such a short rein as a cub. But I still miss her like hell, now." The growl of a well-tuned car engine heralds Grey's arrival. The man himself lets himself in a few moments after the Torino pulls up and parks. For those who haven't seen him recently, he looks a good deal scruffier -- an effect of the uncut hair and the short but full beard. Too bad the latter's showing its grey, no pun intended. "I spoke to her not too long ago, and she's doing as well as can be expected.", Tu says about Natalie, then scrapes the last of his food from the bowl and sets it down just as Grey arrives. "Morning", he says to the other Walker when he comes in. "It's been a while." The man before you is in his mid to late thirties, and is clearly of South East Asian descent. His skin tone is light brown, though you get the impression that anytime in the sun would darken him considerably. He is average height, though has a small build, which makes him appear smaller than he really is. Enhancing this impression is a seemingly complete lack of body fat anywhere on him. His black hair is very straight, neatly combed forward on his head, the front flipped up in a spiky crown. His face, which is slightly rounded, is well defined with a wide and flat nose giving him an exotic look. His almond shaped brown eyes are quick and lively, brightening his otherwise serious face. He is wearing cologne that has a subtle, clean, scent. He is wearing tan pants and a short black jacket. Underneath the jacket can be seen a dark red t-shirt with a black A/X written over the chest. He also wears a black watch on his right wrist, with no numbers and a simple set of gold hands to indicate the time. The last third of his left arm is missing. The end of the arm looks mangled, as if it had been severed uncleanly. Emma glances to the door and gives a faint nod. Her grin turns back to Kevin though, devious yet playful, "That's because she was scared of Signe and old Yohan up in your head getting too much of a hold on you. She's just protecting you and looking after her own." "Hjalmar," corrects Kevin absently. "Next time you call her, Tu, say hi from me." Then he inclines his head politely to the new, shaggier, Thomas Grey. "Morning, dude. Come for breakfast? We got plenty." Grey shakes his head. "I've eaten already." But he moves to join the others anyway, once he's hung up his coat. "Any news?" Tu nods to Kevin. "Sure." Grey's question draws a shake of the head. "I don't have any." He glances at the others, seeing if they might. Emma lifts a shoulder and shakes her head gently. "Nothing here." She looks to Kevin again, "If you want help lugging that stuff over, I got the keys to Mitch's truck. But-" she chuckles, "No license and I've no idea how to drive it." "Jeremy and Trent have blown town," Kevin says, with a frown. "Maybe for good. I hear Jer got himself in some folks' very bad books, but I guess you know more than me about that. That could be helpful, Emma, but let's ask them if they need it first?" Grey's mouth thins out at Kevin's words, and he shakes his head. "It's a fucking mess, and he's not helping his case any. I'm close to washing my hands of the affair." His scowl is full of reluctance, irritation, frustration. Emma wipes a hand over her mouth, though there was nothing there to necessitate the gesture. "I don't think I'll ask." This in regards to whatever has got the hackles up on the Walkers present. She glances to the heating water and gets up to tend it herself. No mooch here. Kevin looks very much as though he wants to say more on the subject, but something, maybe the glint in Grey's one good eye, discourages him. "I'm gonna take a run down to the cinema," he says, standing up, "and see if the Gnawers or their tramp buddies want this smashed up furniture for firewood, I guess." Tu shakes his head. "I can't say as I blame him for running. I can't imagine he feels as if he's going to get a fair shake from those in the woods." He sighs. "Do we know when they're supposed to judge him?" Grey eyeballs Kevin, then grunts and gives the young Ragabash a brief wave to see him off. To Tu, he shrugs. "I don't know. He's not the only one on the chopping block, though. Dakota and Abraxas are in trouble as well." Emma pours a quick cup of tea for herself and turns to face the others once more, "Ah, it's why I am glad to be born a full moon. Job description is very cut and paste." Sip sip. She looks after the once more disappearing Kevin, "I get the feeling he doesn't *want* to catch up with me." Tu offers Emma a sympathetic smile. "He's young. Isn't very good at setting still for long periods." Then he looks back to Grey. "Dakota and Abraxas aren't kin", he says, pointing out the obvious. "The rules are different." He sighs. "Besides, lets face it, Jeremy has never been one to follow the rules. That's part of the problem." Grey rubs the side of his neck. "That's true. Look at this." Grimacing still, he reaches into a back pocket and pulls out a folded-up sheet of paper. Spread out, it shows itself as a computer sheet with the words "JEREMY IS WATCHING" and the image of a cockroach. Emma clears her throat slightly and finishes off the tea, "You guys have a lot on the table it seems, no reason for me to clog your attention. Tu, if you come up with needing anything, let me know. Once things are settled, I'll tell you for sure where our territory will run." She nods to both Tu and Grey as well, "Thanks for the tea." Tu blows out a long sigh. "Where did you get it?", he asks as he looks at the paper only to look up again as Emma leaves. "Sure. Stop by any time, Emma." He waits for her to leave, then adds "Jeremy pulled a gun on Kevin once, too. I didn't think he had silver in the damn thing." "In the mail," Grey replies. He looks up alertly as the young Get of Fenris moves to leave, his expression turning thoughtful. Emma nods her head once more as she slips out, a friendly enough grin offered. Tu looks back at Grey. "Well, if he's gone for good, we probably need to wipe all the systems he's worked on. Email, all of that." He pauses. "Still, maybe we can fix things. Even if he ran, we can have him judged. Try and get him cleared." Not more than a minute after Emma leaves, there's a knock at the door--three heavy, measured raps. Grey takes the paper and refolds it. "Mmh. Well, unless he's willing to drag his--" The knock cuts him off. Tu does the honors, pushing up from his chair, crossing to the door, and peering out the window. "Speak of the devil", he says to Grey before pulling open the door. "Shadow Lord.", Tu says coolly to Abraxas. Abraxas's expression, never pleasant, turns a few degrees more sour as the Walker elder opens the door. There's a return remark on his tongue, it's terribly obvious, but for once, shockingly, he actually doesn't say it. Instead he shifts his eyes to one side, hunches his shoulders forward, and returns, "Tu." Grey arches an eyebrow, then grunts when Abraxas is announced. Getting up, he wanders toward the front, paper vanishing back into his jeans. His manner toward the visitor is cool, to say the least. Tu steps back from the door, allowing Abraxas entry if he so chooses. "I've seen you twice in two days", he says to the Ahroun, then mumbles something in Vietnamese. Abraxas's narrowed look turns even moreso at the foreign language, but he does step in. Only to find Grey there as well, something which draws him up short at the doorway and causes his already stiff manner to turn obviously wary. "Yes, you have." Grey folds his arms across his chest and scowls wordlessly at the Shadow Lord. "I was thanking the gods for the bounty of my harvest", Tu says in explanation of his mumble. "What is it we can do for you?" The Shadow Lord's face tightens further, and again there's the sense of things not quite said. "I was going to speak with Kevin." He pauses, and then tacks on, as if it had anything to do with his previous statement, "Vera is the new Alpha, in case it hasn't reached you out here yet." Grey glances sidelong at Tu, then turns back to Abraxas. "Kevin just stepped out." No comment on Vera, no sir. "I expect Kevin will be back later. Is there a message you'd like me to pass on to him?" Tu also has no comment on the happenings in the woods. Abraxas sighs at that bit of news, but he nods. "Very well." To Tu's question, however, he shakes his head. "I can wait." Grey's eyes narrow, but he says nothing, letting his Elder handle the visitor. He makes for a fairly intimidating lurking presence, anyway. Tu nods. "That's fine. I'll tell him you stopped by." He waits, seeing if Abraxas withdraws or is looking to wait there. Abraxas twitches again, but he doesn't look as though he's about to depart. He moves away from the doorway, just a foot or so, and once more glances toward Grey. "...As I said, I can wait." Grey's upper lip curls just a little. Just enough to show a flash of teeth within his dark beard and darker expression. Tu takes an other step back and gestures towards the common side of the house. "Remember the rules", is all he says as he look back towards Grey. "We can finish this later, if that's ok. I have some things that need my attention." "You told them to me yesterday," Abraxas says flatly. "I haven't forgotten them this quickly." Grey's flash of teeth brings further tension to his posture. Grey covers his teeth as he turns to Tu, nodding. "Later. You know how to reach me." Tu gives the Shadow Lord a final glance, then disappears into the Walker side of the house. Abraxas follows Tu's departure with an expression of unguarded dislike, his own lips briefly twitching. Grey, once Tu is gone, turns his eye back to Abraxas. With chill courtesy, he notes, "If you're going to stay, you may as well have a seat." He nods toward the living room area. Abraxas takes a deep breath, and returns the remark with a faint, stiff nod. He starts in that direction, hands clenched in the pockets of his jacket. "...I was told that one is expected to contribute if they stay for more than a day or so?" Narrow grey eyes with low set eyebrows may draw the attention first--if you discount the spidery scars down the bridge of his nose and the uglier, thicker scar along the left side of his jawline, his eyes are the feature that stands out the most, simply by nature of being just slightly less ordinary than the rest of him. And ordinary suits him well; this man won't be turning many heads by virtue of his looks. He has a strong, angular nose and a jaw that could be forgiven for being somewhere between square and rounded. His cheeks seem to have settled for angles as well. His hair is black, relatively short but terribly uneven, it sticks over his ears at odd angles and does its own thing in the back, while his bangs seem content to lay wherever they happen to fall. There's an aura of unpleasantness about his expression, even when he's not actively frowning--it's as if his mouth is simply so used to the shape that anything else looks unnatural, and the rest of his face simply follows suit. He has the body of an athlete, but a runner, a swimmer maybe, rather than a body builder. He's also not terribly tall, standing at 5'9, perhaps 5'10 if the observer is feeling generous. The backs of both hands have suffered some sort of superficial injury, as there are more thick, stubborn scars like the one on his jaw. His clothes don't fit him well, he might as well have picked them up out of someone else's laundry, or, quite possibly, someone's dumpster. A plain, longsleeved shirt, very worn jeans, stained sneakers that are cracking visibly, and a thickly padded, faded black jacket are the order of the day. Grey follows just enough to stay within conversational distance. He nods curtly. "Either with money, goods, or services. Tu would be the one to see to arrange that." He cocks his head slightly, fixing the Shadow Lord with his good eye. "Why?" "In case I should need to." Abraxas grimaces just before sliding carefully into one of the chairs. "It's a long walk to the farmhouse." "You might find it more convenient to use a phone, the next time," Grey says blandly. "Or the bus." Abraxas's lips part faintly, but there's a pause before he speaks. "I don't have any money for the bus." He arches an eyebrow, "And no phone either." Grey arches an eyebrow right back. "How did you afford the bus ticket to St. Claire, when you originally arrived?" Abraxas leans back in the seat, though he's far from lounging, he's about as relaxed as a mouse in a tiger's den. "When I left my old Sept, I had a few things that were valuable. A Bone Gnawer in New York helped me to pawn them off. There was enough for the bus ticket and one or two meals." "Mm," says the Philodox, his eyes narrowed again. Reaching into his jeans pocket, he produces a pack of Camels and a lighter before settling down in an armchair. "Do you think you might be coming into the city often?" he asks, while tapping out a cigarette. Abraxas glances briefly toward the cigarettes as they appear. "I don't know," is the garbled reply. "I suppose it depends on how and if and when this entire matter resolves itself." There's a pause, and then, "You're a half moon." It comes out oddly, not a question, not an accusation. And while it seems there should be something after, something to followup, Abraxas says nothing further. Grey pauses to fix a bland, questioning stare at the Shadow Lord. "I am." Abraxas shrugs, reaching one hand back to run briefly through his hair. "Then you probably know more than I do." Grey's mouth thins. "About the situation regarding you, several members of Resonance, and my kin?" He sets the cigarette in his mouth and lights it with practiced gestures. "Very little, as it happens, since the council has chosen to keep me out of the loop." Abraxas's eyes slide toward Grey. There's a brief pause, and then a snort from the metis Ahroun. "That seems to be their favorite tactic. Why are they practicing it on you?" "Ask /them/ that." Putting away the rest of the pack, along with the lighter, Grey settles back. He's still watching Abraxas like a hawk. Abraxas snorts again, and repeats the somewhat agitated hair rubbing. "I haven't seen any of them for an age." Grey grunts. "I have a feeling that this issue will be resolved shortly. For better or for worse." "For worse," Abraxas says, without any sort of uncertainty. "The half moons," and here he pauses, and amends, "most of the half moons, are on a witch hunt. They as much as said so during the last Moot." Grey's eyes narrow. He takes a drag off the cigarette and exhales a cloud of smoke which the Metis fortunately can't smell. "...Yes, I'd gathered that." He grimaces, then stands up abruptly, pacing toward the windows. Abraxas follows Grey's progress with a wary eye, though he remains seated, still looking as though the chair were made of cold iron and spikes, not cloth and cotton. "--Did Kevin tell you what I told him, or did you hear from other sources?" Grey's free hand tucks back a lock of hair as he turns to squint at the Shadow Lord. "Kevin hasn't told me anything. Why?" "--It sounded..." Abraxas trails off, then grunts. "Yesterday I told him what I'd heard, about the likely punishments. It seems your kin has already skipped town anyway. I thought that was what you were referring to." Grey shakes his head. "No. I heard from Brom that the council were thinking of putting Jeremy to death, and your tribemate certainly seemed to think it was a good idea." He grimaces. Abraxas's lips purse. "That's what I'd heard." He snorts again. "Yes, well I suppose she would." Grey grunts. He's silent a moment as he takes another drag off the cigarette. "I have some errands to run. Make yourself at home." Bare courtesy, there. Bare and grudging. He accepts it, nevertheless, at least better than he accepted Tu's similar remarks. Abraxas nods once, and remains seated, eyes turned toward the far wall now, not the Walker. Grey eyeballs Abraxas another moment, then grunts again and, after collecting his coat, heads out.