2018.09.10: Meet the Silver Fangs

Meet the Silver Fangs
Faith gets an idea of what typical Silver Fang Kinfolk are like.
IC Date	Monday, September 10th, 2018
IC Time	12:00 pm PDT.
Players	Roman, Felicity, Sander, Faith
Location	Smoke and Barley - Private Dining
Spheres	Garou Gaian

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Smoke and Barley - Private Dining(#9526RA)

Wood paneling shines in warm tones from the walls, the large stairway leading downwards into a large expanse. Glyphs are etched railing, giving texture as one's fingers graze over the wood. Full spectrum lighting brightens the room and keeps the plants that fill the corners lush and full.

Contents:

Sander

Sander sits watching the central fire from a perch nearby, sipping his dark beer occasionally without paying much attention to it. There's a faraway look in his eyes, which focus and unfocus a little.

Faith arrives at the designated location, dressed out of uniform, given she's still on administrative leave. She's wearing a light dress that has no sleeves. Her hair is down, pulled back from her face in a pony tail. The bruises around her throat stand out in strong relief, those on her face starting to face. The support she's wearing under her clothing to stabilize her fractured scapula is easily noted after she removes the light shawl from her shoulders. She gets a bottle of water from the bar before she joins him at the table. "Hey Detective.."

"Hey." Sander replies without moving at first, then turns his head abruptly to smile. "You look like hell, and you're out getting beers. Tough nut to crack, I'll give you that." His right hand goes to his chest, rubbing a small white charm hanging from his neck, where his badge would sometimes cover it. Looks like an owl. "So, more or less clean bill of health, or did the doctors get terrorized into letting you out?"

"More or less clean.. you saw the reports, bruised trachea, fractures on the scapula and ribs, cut on my tongue from my own teeth. Amnesia being the most important feature of the minor concussion." She lifts the blond hair to show the minor damage at the back of her head, still a lump and bruising. "Must have been one hell of a fight, I don't remember a damn thing."

"No kidding. I had a fascinating conversation," Sander says with the kind of sarcasm suggesting his conversational partner was rather more fascinated by the subject, "with one of the lab techs about how they measure cut and tear strengths of, say, ballistic vests. I didn't ask what it would take to tear through a quarter inch of metal." There's wry amusement there, but he also looks disturbed. "What the fuck did you get yourself into?"

Faith's hand moves up alongside her face, and she lowers her eyes softly to the table. "The wrong end of August's claws when I maced him in the face for picking me up and pinning me to the wall by my neck?" She lifts her eyes a little and runs her teeth against her lower lip. "I didn't know he was coming. I tried to use the phone first but he broke it."

Sander's nose wrinkles. "I haven't had the pleasure of meeting him. Cat, you said in the hospital? I didn't want to follow up." He pauses. "You really think someone was spying there?"

"Spying? Oh the hospital? Possibly.. I mean between the technocracy, the political fall out from this crap with the nation, the internal politics in the PPD itself? The veil just really needs to be protected." She gives a soft little sigh and rubs her hand over the water bottle. "Are you gonna be able to cover this shit up? I'm more concerned about that than anything else."

Felicity unlocks the door, and descends into the private lounge.

Sander grunts. "I've had easier cases. I think I can make it work. My plan right now is to drown the whole thing in such boring technical crap that no one can stay awake through the full report to realize how much is bullshit." He grins mischievously. "Long story short, psych eval for you just to make sure you're not still affected by... whatever excuse I come up with. And some procedure recs for the department that will be buried and forgotten, I'm sure. Sound good?" Sander watches for the reaction, looking a bit pleased with himself.

Faith is seated with Sander, listening to him as she holds onto a bottle of water, and he drinks a dark beer. The conversation is serious, but calm. "Sure, as long as we know who you're going to get to do the psych eval.. and do you mean like neuropsych for the amnesia? Or like actual full eval?" The tall blonde gives a slight smirk as Faith adds, "In all fairness, I'm not sure I could pass the second one."

Felicity comes down the stairs, carrying babies! Well, they're in a sling, one on each side, just little faces poking out. Both are sound asleep, because that's how babies are supposed to be. Now, for Felicity, her hair and makeup are absolutely perfect, subtle, enhancing her eyes, framing her face and all that. How a person can manage to HAVE two babies and be that well put together is an absolute fucking mystery, but she does it. Down the stairs, posture perfect, and she looks around, then pauses. It appears the one she's here to meet isn't here yet.

Sander rolls his eyes. "I figure it'll be the usual fitness for duty check. I'm sure you know the one. How many of those have you forced?" He can't resist the jab. "I'm sure we can pull some strings when we schedule the shrink." He glances at the stairs from where they sit at a table near the fire, but the face being unfamiliar, he turns back to his partner in definitely-not-crime.

Stairs creak-creak as someone makes their way down not terribly long after Felicity, a few smoothly-toned words calling, "Yeah, I think I've got it, thanks!" back behind him. Expensive sunglasses are removed and placed in a slip cover and then a pocket, and a man of noteworthy handsomeness and shockingly mismatched eyes is now present in the basement.

Roman checks his watch first, rolling a wrist up to note the time, then pulls out an Android phone and... does the same thing? Oh, he's checking texts. The click-clack-click of chimed sound effects rattle out while he sends a response, and then he looks up for... well, he's not entirely sure whom. "Excuse me," he says loudly enough that those nearest would hear, softly enough that it still sounds like an intimate request, "but is any of you by chance Felicity?"

There is absolutely no mystery. She's Felicity. And the twins have ruined any chance Sander has of keeping Faith's attention at all. "Mrs. Mikhailovich.." a smile slides across Faith's lips, though the scar causes one corner to tug into something less pleasant. She gives Sander a finger - yes the middle one, at least first.. then a one sec gesture as she gets to her feet. "Can I see them?" Because you know.. babies! Faith won't approach the Silver Fang and her children without welcome, but it's all she can do to contain herself. "I'll be really quiet.." she promises.

With the mention of her name, Felicity turns, her hair bobbing prettily as she turns. "I'm Felicity," she says, her accent more British than Russian. She looks over the man, a quick head to toe, then a smile, picture perfect. Toothpaste commercial quality smile. She offers out her hand, which holds a plain, dull iron ring on the second finger. "You must be Roman. Please." She motions toward a table. "Lead the way. Eye of the Storm said he would be on his way shortly." She turns toward Faith and offers the most pleasant of smiles. "Hawtrey. Eye of the Storm-rhya and I are mated, not married." She gives the woman a smile though, a little brighter. "Of course you can." Sander ALSO gets a little smile, but she doesn't know him any more than he knows her, so it's perfunctory, at best

Sander blinks as Faith switches to a bubbly greeting. He watches them, and his face gradually goes from curiosity to a careful, neutral expression. He stands and clears his throat quietly. "Thanks for the chat, Faith... I should be going. Talk to you soon, I'm sure." He stands, leaving a good portion of his beer unfinished, and calmly but quickly heads for the stairs.

Roman turns his head as someone admits to owning the name, those excellently-manicured eyebrows popping up to show off those unusual eyes of his. One electric blue, one topaz-hazel, like a strange dog offered them up as an art installation. He returns Felicity's smile easily, white teeth like a Marine cemetery flashing without a hint of hesitation, and makes his way over to the unfamiliar woman.

His voice drops in tone to a hush, all honey and velvet as he looks the infants over. "So tiny," he comments with a bit of a chuckle, leaning in just a touch before stepping back and toward a table. "My boys are all grown. They tell me they're men now, but I still look at them and see them like that. Pardon me."

Roman says the last while stepping around Faith, giving her a friendly smile, as well. "I was told we were all family here. Nice to see that's the case. It's a lovely place, really." He watches Sander go, making no comment on it, and adds, "My brother let me know you'd received the letter and where to go, but didn't give me much in th eway of details, I'm afraid."

Faith is busy making her apologies as she makes quick strides over to where the very polished Silver Fang kin is settling, "Sorry Ms. Hawtry.." Roman gets glanced at with a very brief "Hi.. sorry - won't stay but.." by the tall blonde woman who looks like she's been in a recent physical altercation. Bruises on her throat and face, and some sort of stabilizing brace under the armhole of her sleeveless dress to protect her shoulder. "Oooh my god.. they're beautiful." She won't touch, and tries not to hover. She glances back at Sander, "But.. no I just.. babies." Yes, someone just showed up with Faith's kryptonite. "I'm coming right back Detective. I'm sorry I just.." Yes, just Babies!!! BABIES. Maybe she did get hit a little harder in the head than he thought.

They're about two months old, the babies. Two and a half? Little. But old enough to not look like potatoes with legs. They are ALSO pretty. Very pretty little babies. She offers a growing smile to Roman and motions toward the tables. "Yes, of course. Let's sit, order food. My mate will be here shortly." Her attention drifting back to Faith, she smiles and shakes her head. "This is Dragomir Jr. And this is Dimitri." She watches Faith struggle, perhaps enjoying it somewhat. her babies are GORGEOUS. "Would you like to hold one? I need to take one out before I can remove the sling. Easier if there's someone to assist." Assuming that Roman is leading the way to a table, let's get THERE and Felicity will hand off a child.

Babies or no, Sander seems bound and determined to get out of here, and soon. He barely hears Faith as he makes his escape. Sander leaves the shifter lounge by going up the steps and out the locked door.

If Roman notes Faith's injuries -- and he does, it's impossible not to see those eyes looking you over -- he has the good graces not to react to them, instead making certain to step aside so that the eager woman has easy access to the babes-in-arms. His phone chimes -- the opening note from "A Hard Day's Night" -- and he takes it back out and Swypes a response, turning the ringer down. "Sorry about that. I am /also/ apparently still someone's baby in need of looking-after. If I might offer to help?"

Oh, so /that's/ how it is. He's a smooth one. He looks the type, he sounds the type, he acts the type. He selects a table by placing his phone on it, stepping back over with hands spread in a whatever-I-can-do fashion.

"Oh yes please," Faith's eyes widen with the offer from Felicity. Whatever those marks may do, they're not going to inhibit her from holding the perfect little child. The tall woman with her broad shoulders and scars, accepts the tiny offering like it's a sacred duty. Her strong, large hands and brawny build are suddenly nothing but the most gentle cradle for the infant. Those are the arms of a woman who has spent many, many hours with little bundles of joy. There's not a single bit of hesitation in the woman as she coos to the child, and rocks him with the tender care of a protector. Who knew?

Felicity smiles at Roman, but she shakes her head. "I think.... yes." Baby Dragomir is handed off to Faith and Felicity HOVERS, motioning to a seat. That's the goods right there. "This one is Dragomir Jr." And still sleeping, for the moment. "I'm very sorry, I've forgotten my manners." She turns her back to Roman. "If you could just untie that. It's slipped to where I can't reach it." THEN she launches into her intro. "I am Daphne Eliza Harper Felicity Camilla Imogen Suzanne Hawtrey, daughter of Winds of Change, granddaughter of D'mitri Solokov, great grand daughter of Boris Solokov, great great granddaughter of Andrei Solokov, great great great granddaughter of Alexei Solokov, mated to Dragomir, righted Eye of the Storm, Athro Silver Fang Philodox, and Alpha of Terminal Velocity, packed under Merlin, and mother of Dragomir Jr and Dimitri." And she says it in ONE. Fucking. Breath."

Faith is nobody, absolutely nobody. The seat that is motioned to is taken immediately as if Faith were already a trained nanny. Mother is never wrong, and Dragomir Jr. is not about to be woken. The help keeps her eyes down, and her attention on the child, the conversation after all, is not hers to participate in. And Baby! Let's not forget, baby.

Roman helpfully does as he's asked, reaching out to untie the sling with deft fingers and freeing Felicity as intended. He smiles handsomely, taking in the introduction he was expecting, and bows at the waist. "It's an honor, Ms. Hawtrey, truly. My name is Roman Arkady Konstantin Nikolaevich Andreov, Kinfolk born to the Silver Fangs of the Sept of the Widow's Wrath, under the Lodge of the Moon. Son of Nikolai Roman Leonid Vaslievich Andreov Iron Law, Elder Half Moon of the Silver Fangs of the Sept of the widow's Wrath, Master of the Challenge and slayer of the Knockerwyrm Ldjanoeserdce, called Frozenheart. I have the honor to be the grandson of King Luna's Blade, Elder Ahroun of the Silver Fangs, the White King of the Sept of the Cold Wind. And my lineage goes on forever, too; I vowed to stop right there when I turned thirty and I've never regretted the decision"

He gives a charming laugh at that, good-humored about the nature of Silver Fang propriety, and moves to the other side of the table, placing a hand on it but pointedly not sitting while Felicity is standing.

Felicity smiles at Faith and reaches out to touch one of the baby's curls. So far from mama. Like.. two feet. But her attention goes back to Roman and she nods. "Mine seems to have gotten longer since I was granted the honor of such a wonderful mate. He said he would join us shortly. I was expecting him already." She looks to Faith, though.. She THINKS she knows who this is, but without an introduction...

Faith's eyes lift to Felicity, they met once. Though it's true. She doesn't quite look like she did the night she was dumped on their doorstep. The chair is scooted just a little closer to Mommy, and the unspoken second command is followed too. Pale eyes cut over the table to the gentleman. "I'm Faith Anne Donahue, Sir. I'm a kinfolk to the Get of Fenrir, but Eye of the Storm agreed to be my mentor. I'm very honored to be considered his student Sir." She keeps her voice lower than her eyes, unwilling to disturb the tiny bundle in her arms.

"I am well-accustomed to waiting on Garou, Ms. Hawtry," Roman replies with a knowing smile, nodding his head. "They carry the world on their shoulders. It's hard to find a place to put it down. Speaking of which... how old? They can't be much older than.... what, nine weeks? Younger?"

The man seems perfectly content to wait with his hip leaning on the table -- he makes it look good, anyhow, and that's what matters -- his mismatched eyes scanning from one woman to the other, from one babe to the other. "Your mate and yourself... you must be very proud. They're a wonder."

Faith's introduction gets another iteration of that friendly, gleaming smile, putting a hand to his chest and giving a dip of his head. "A pleasure, Ms. Donahue. But please, just Roman is fine. As much an honor as it is to be a member of my family, I'm afraid I haven't made enough of it to warrant any respect."

"Almost 13," Felicity says to Roman, untucking the other baby from the sling. He lets out a little sound, just a baby sleepy sheepy noise, like a baaaaaaah and then snuggles in against mommy. Back to sleep. " She smiles at Fiath. "That's right. I remember now. Yes." Back to ROman. "Please, won't you join us? We are quite proud. Two Galliards." She nuzzles the one in her arms and peeks over to check on the one who isn't. Very attentive. "And yes, please call me Felicity."

The large young woman appears very content to hold the child, and keep the baby right there at his mother's side, as if she's only an extension of extra arms. She listens to the conversation.. but something Roman says draws comment from the Fenrir Kinfolk. "You wouldn't be sitting to a table with Eye of the Storm if you hadn't earned respect." Maybe not everything needs to be said out loud, right? Someday. Someday she'll get it right. For now, Faith just does her best to tack on a very well-practiced, "Sorry. I can be quiet, honest."

"Oh my, what a horrible guesser I am! I'm out of practice, obviously. No work for me in the circus guessing ages," Roman replies with a laugh as their ages are revealed, lips smirking pleased when he hears the sleepy coo of the infant. "And yes, Ms. Donahue, no need to be a stranger. We've all met, I've only just arrived; I'm not turning away new applicants to meet me at this stage of the business."

Roman reaches into his pocket and draws out a business card at that, sliding it across the table toward Felicity. "Felicity it is, then. That card will give you enough information to check my bona fides with Andreov/Alexeyev, if you like, and the number written on the back will reach my sister in Fairbanks. She'll be expecting your call, but not insisting on it; she's simply used to people wanting to check up on me when I cross into new territory."

Faith's strident retort has him reach up and touch his chest again with one hand, a sweetly-jesting, "Touche!" as his response, and bows his head. "Guilty as charged, I suppose. I come from a long line of very respectful people. It's my honor to strive to earn that."

Felicity shakes her head at Faith. "No need to be quiet. You are one of about half a dozen people who has held my child. If I can trust you with that, I can trust you with conversation." She laughs softly at Roman, the perfect sound for the perfectly perfect perfection that is Felicity (CAn we say Stepford Wife?) She takes the card from Roman and pulls out one of her own from.. somewhere, handing it over. "I'll leave that decision to my mate, but it will be me who makes the call if it comes to it."

"I'm just Faith.. Donahue is what they call me at work," the young woman tells Roman hushedly. She then looks slowly over at Felicity with the words that are spoken, clearly effected by the kindness. "I have nine siblings," she whispers to the mother. "I hope I'll be as blessed some day."

Roman palms the proffered business card and flips it through his fingers deftly before raising it to read, giving Felicity an acknowledging nod and smoothly sliding the card into the same jacket pocket as his phone. "My thanks. The people at those numbers will be happy to answer any questions about me. It wouldn't be proper for me to be a figure of mystery, after all."

He looks to Faith then, noting the conversation and the subtext between the women, but doesn't react; he's been well-schooled by someone. "Just Faith, then," Roman agrees, giving the woman that disarming smile with those otherworldly eyes of his. "I have quite a lot of siblings, myself, and roughly six times as many nieces and nephews even when you don't count my sons in the bunch. Family is vital in this day and age, especially when you take the concerns of the Nation into account and the dire need Gaia has for more of us. We all do our part, each to his or her own, in our time. Yours, I'm more than certain, is simply waiting for you." Oh, what a /charmer/ he is. What role was he trying out for again?

Faith looks up from the babe in her arms, considering Roman for the first time, truly since he walked into the room. It's almost as if she had barely noticed anything but the children, truly. Her voice remains very hushed as she replies, "It will be as Gaia wills it. I have to be worthy first." A slight nod of her head, and the tall woman gazes back at the tiny wonder again. If she's even slightly moved by the suave sophistication of the positively gorgeous guest, it doesn't show. "Eye of the Storm, he's kind of the patron saint of lost cubs and lost causes around here. If anyone can help me be worthy, he will."

"I haven't a doubt you will be, Faith," Roman replies without any syrup in that earnestness, velvet voice sounding entirely sincere when he speaks. "Your time is just over the horizon. It'll wait for you."

Roman leans over to look once again at the nearer cub in Felicity's arms, that heartwarming grin coming right back to him. "Such beautiful armfuls, and so recent, but they don't seem to have put a single wrinkle in your quilt. How /do/ you do it, Felicity? I was all tangled hair and dark circles for months with every single one of my sons."

Felicity laughs softly at Roman and shakes her head. "I'm Silver Fang. I've been practicing for this since I was in the womb. I have a lady come twice a week so I can work and maybe get in a nap here and there, but other than that, it's just me." She gives Faith a smile and lets her coo over the little one. The one in her arms makes a rather unpolite noise and Felicity smiles down at the boy. "You're going to wake your brother and you know what that means," she chastises with all the love a human could possibly muster. She retrieves a blanket from the bag she was totally carrying and flips it up over her shoulder, tucking the baby underneath it. Modesty, but certainly not shyness. A little shuffle and there's all sorts of happy grunting piggy noises being made.

Faith lowers her eyes and sits quietly with the little one in her arms, letting him sleep as Felicity conducts her conversation, and her motherly duties with more grace than the Fenrir kin would likely be able to muster in a week of hard effort.

It's nothing Roman hasn't seen before, and if he's even capable of embarrassment or awkwardness he hasn't shown the slightest sign of it. "It's quite a feat. Consider me impressed. Now, I'm not entirely certain how things work around here, but food is on me, please. I'm eager to hear the state of things in Prospect and how I can make myself of service while I'm in town. Family business doesn't take as much time as it used to, so I find myself with a surplus of nothing to do and idle hands."

"Down here, there is no charge. Tips are welcome and appreciated by the staff, but the Garou and kin are taken care of down here quite well. Taken care of pretty well in general, not just here." She motions around with one hand, letting the baby nurse. "There is a Rage Suppressor field here, made by a kin for this place, the Black Stag Forge, Curry Corner and Olympian Diner and I believe also the BoneGnawer place in town. Oh, and the kinfolk house. Which you should definitely check out. What is it you do for a living, Roman?" She glances at Faith and she smiles. She's more than happy to let Faith in on the conversation, but Faith seems pretty darn happy, so she'll leave her to it

Roman seems to accept that graciously enough, an artful shrug of the shoulders and a lean back in his chair in response. "I'll make sure to take care of the tip, then," he affirms, waving it away with a well-manicured hand.

"As for what I do... it's very boring, but the short version is that I'm the acquisitions concierge for Andreov/Alexeyev, which means that when a business is located in which my family takes an interest I am dispatched to smooth that transition and identify potential points of conflict. I end up flying to a new city, taking six or sixteen meetings over the course of two months, and talking to my sister on the phone for an hour a day until all matters are settled and all checks are signed. And then I wait for another phone call and another plane ticket." If there's any pride, resentment... any emotional attachment to the matter, it doesn't come through in Roman's butter-soft tone, nor in his unflaggingly polite expression.

Faith could not be more content then to simply sit and bask in the domesticity of the darling child. She does look up as she's glanced at by Felicity though, and like a well trained student she rolls through the list in her head. "We have a kinswoman who is a doctor, I work for the police department with several other kin, the Garou own Rescue Tower One, where they're getting ready to launch a new helicopter fleet. There are a list of places we're not supposed to go. There's lots of political bullshieerrr" she even manages not to swear in front of the baby, and her mouth twists into a strange shape as the young woman exhales. "That. Um, I'm bad at social stuff. But you'll probably really like Xenovia, and Vesta, and a lot of the other kin that are more like Felicity. The kinfolk house is definitely a place to go to meet people. The caern's a really long hike unless you're just gonna moonbridge in with one of Eye of the Storm's packmates."

"Then I'll leave off the Caern for now unless I receive a specific invitation," Roman says as he accepts the knowledge being given to him, taking out his phone and typing away. "Forgive me; I'm making notes. This is a lot to know, but it's no more than I've done before."

The newcomer jots down names, places, suggestions, long fingers flying as they tap-tap-tap away. "And you seem perfectly pleasant to me, Faith. This has all been exceptionally useful. I doubt I could have gotten a more succinct summary elsewhere."

"Vesta has packets for all the new garou and kinfolk.. she's really got it together." Faith says softly as she looks down at the table. "There's been a tone of new business in Prospect lately, a lot of property changing hands. The activity in gangs is way down, then occasionally pops up - but I'm worried about the power struggles going on in the influence areas. Felicity probably has a better hand than I do on who holds what. I'm not really in the right circles to be helpful. I just.. point people at other people when I hear that someone needs something and I know someone else needs something else." She shifts the slumbering babe in her arms. "There's been a lot of ecoterrorism on the bawn lately. A LOT of it.. so yeah, unless you can hold your own against a fomor or maybe even run away from a BSD you might wanna get an escort for the tips out there. But um.. Shaderunner, he's an elder Strider Theurge, very well connected, very helpful. If he starts laughing all crazy get ready to duck. Jake uh.. he's the Wyrm Foe, runs the Blackstage Forge in town, you'll want to meet him even though he's a Shadow Lord Elder.. because he's someone Eye of the Storm respects. Uh.. the Glasswalkers have special coding they made for our phones to make them unhackable.. too?" Faith glances up a little apologetically. "Sorry I know it's a lot. "

"Yes, I believe we subcontract to the same Glasswalker cabal," Roman replies evenly as he takes notes. More names, more places, more news. Just /more/. He seems used to the idea, with a standard method for dealing with the matter. "I pack silver for my Sig just in case, but I'd rather avoid entanglements if at all possible. I'm a middleman, not a soldier. I let braver souls than myself do that work. The information is greatly appreciated, and I'll be certain to try to meet with everyone you've named."

Faith murmurs softly, "I don't wanna be a soldier either.." but then her phone is buzzing. Eeeks. "That's the emergency work line." She'll pass Dragomir Jr back to Mom, or to Roman if indicated, after taking the call and hastily explaining she's gotta run, it's an all hands SWAT call.