Trouble and Gray Hair [Janis]

[Drew Roscoe] The pair of Fenrir women are tasked with herding a trio of children, traumatized and distraught from what they'd seen happen to their nice, upright middle class parents this evening. Hill House, as it turns out, is only a handful of blocks away from where they were now. It wasn't worth the walk in the opposite direction back to Drew's house to retrieve the truck, so Drew instead pulled open the door of the vehicle that had crashed, discovered blankets to go along with the winter coats that the kids were wearing, and made sure they were all bundled and wrapped before they started the journey.

Janis got to hold the hands of the nine year old girl and the six year old boy. Drew was carrying the four-year-old boy, whose legs were about her waist and arms about her shoulders, head rested on her shoulder and face buried in her hair. He'd fallen asleep by the time they'd gotten to the shelter, he'd also gotten very heavy, but Drew kept her hands linked together under his ass and let him snooze, not willing to let him wake for the world to end.

Up the steps to the Hill House, and the situation is explained to Mary Alice once she's hunted down. They've seen too much, they've got to be Kinfolk now. Keep them sheltered, teach them the Truth, tell them the ways, Kora the Jarl of Chicago asks this much of you. And, of course, Mary Alice accepts them just as she does anyone else that come across her threshold. Drew passes off the little boy that weighed thirty-some pounds but felt like so much more after walking that great a distance with him, the other children go from Janis to The Nicest Lady In The World, and the pair of Fenrir women are left taskless.

Silence is stretched only so far before Drew jerks her head toward the door and starts walking, muttering something about whiskey and black tea on her way out the door.

[Janis Ian] Call it wolf instincts or a maternal disposition that seems utterly out of place with the redheaded Rotagar, Janis handles the older children easier than she'd thought possible. She is talkative to the six-year-old that continues to play with the brass coin on a string that she gave him, telling him some wild far-fetch story to occupy the time as they walk the several blocks to Hill House, cutting through the Cabrini.

Her eyes and ears were alert for the sirens from cop cars or the faint shadows that past by them. She has roaming these streets, hunting them, mapping them, knowing them like she would in any other city. More Urrah than traditional for a Fenrir. She lets Drew handle the affairs at Hill House, detaching herself form the older children, telling the young boy to keep the coin in hopes that it will bring him luck.

She steps away, cheeks billowing out with a quick exhale of air, her head tilts in the direction of Drew to cast a long, searching look to the smaller woman. It's with the head jerk that she follows along side Drew, starts the walk back out the door as she's muttering about whiskey and black tea.

When they finally reach the outdoors, she breathes a little easier, but it doesn't dull the hidden tension winding in her shoulders under her coat. "Ye must be Drew..." she says, as if the kin were some legendary figure that the Garou has heard about.

[Drew Roscoe] Outside the air is cold, but not crisp. It feels heavy, thick and sticky, like how it would when it was so humid in the summertime, except that the temperature didn't match the sensation. Drew didn't think much of it, didn't complain, she's grown up in such humidity her whole life, days like this were every day in the summer, occasional in the winter. She just buttoned her coat back up, tugged the collar so that it hid the sore red bruises in the shape of a gigantic pair of hands across her throat, fingers reaching behind her ears, one up along the side of either jaw. They were red today, they'd be horrible and black and purple tomorrow.

Janis Drew had never seen before in her life-- could only be led to assume that she was Garou because of the situation she'd just met her in, because of how Kora spoke to her and trusted her, because of the fact that she knew Eli. None of this promised a tribe or much else to her, but she could find any of that out in conversation. It wasn't important right now anyways.

Janis stating who she must be is met by a lift of eyebrows, and a vague grin as the Kinfolk marches the beat along the sidewalk back in the direction of the dumpy little neighborhood she called home. "Ah, my reputation precedes me, then?" A dismissive chuckle, she didn't have enough of an ego to believe in her own reputation (though it existed, spirits whispered of her and her Mate both even still). "And I caught your name, Janis, but I don't actually know who you are. New packmate of Kora's?"

[Janis Ian] Her arms lay against her sides, hands find warmth in the pockets of the dark Dickies pants tailored to fit a woman's frame. The air is cold as they walk, but she doesn't feel the effects of it. Her skin was hot underneath her clothes - her rage tempered by a resolve born on wolf instincts and common sense. She can't help the way her eyes pull across Drew's features, watching the play of shadows as they pass through the street lights.

She notes the grin, the lift of eyebrows, the friendly disposition that Drew carries that makes it easy to like her - almost too easy. Janis clears her throat, red brows drawn up to meet Drew's expression when she asks about her.

"Aye, something like that. I 'ave heard a bit about ye," she smirks at the irony of it all, "Janis Ian, I'm the new Rotagar to join Kora's pack..." a beat, "And the stray that Eli saved from dying."

[Drew Roscoe] "Oh!"

Recognition flashes across the adorable young Kinswoman's face when Janis mentions that she's the 'stray' that Eli saved. She remembered that story, Eli had swung by and told it over a beer on her couch. Now she had a face and a name to match the story. Drew's hands dipped into her pockets as Janis's did, though Drew's were in those of her coat rather than her pants. By some grace of good luck her coat didn't get too blood-sodden, most of the gore she got on her was from the pink thing whose brains painted the ceiling, and most of that was just on her face and a bit on the chest of her black shirt. She wouldn't have to throw anything out because of tonight's adventure.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard that story. Good to meet you, glad that he found you before it was too late." There's a pause, nothing significant, and she adds as an afterthought to the statement: "Glad to see you intact, too. That shit can easily tear someone up."

She stops only to wait at an intersection, nudging the crosswalk button with her elbow and waiting for the little green figure on the light across from them to replace the solid red hand.

Drew didn't bother asking what Janis had heard, she could guess already. It would be a mingle of rumors from different eras- the spirits would speak of Glory, of a Kin who fought beside Garou, who was mated to one of the strongest Jarls the city has seen, whose bullets rarely left a job unfinished, who had cleaved the head from a Spiral's shoulders with one shot. She may also have heard that Drew was, recently, since her mate had died, a slut. Someone who let any Garou who asked in through the front door of her house. Supposedly she'd already been with two named Erek and Remy, supposedly she'd picked fights with pregnant Kinfolk, supposedly she was lippy and nothing but trouble and gray hair.

If any of that at all held true? It didn't show on her round face or reflect in her shining brown eyes. Even after carnage, she seemed to carry an overall air of happiness. No one she knew and loved had died, Eli was going to be okay, and the children had been saved from the same fate as what their parents had suffered. All and all, a good night.

[Janis Ian] It is difficult for Janis to judge on words that could have been spoken in hearsay. The blood of the kin tells one story, it reflects in those shining brown eyes and the round contours of her face, the way Drew carries herself with that air of happiness that things were well in the end - no one had died, the children were going to be safe.

Each step of her boots is matched and equaled to Drew's gait, Janis pauses at the corner, standing precariously on the cement edge like a child ready to dart out into traffic. There's a feral grace to her movements, in the subtle gestures of how she watched her surroundings, drag everything in through smell and sound with small cants of her head.

The conversation doesn't go into full details, Drew knows of Janis, doesn't question what all the Rotagar has been told, "'Tis good to be in tact," she says with a half-smirk, rolling her shoulders under her jacket. "I 'ave things to keep in Chicago now, some family and Kora's pack - " a male kin they are familiar with.

"Ye quite familiar with everyone in this town, eh?" she says, picking her topics carefully, searching for details.

[Drew Roscoe] "Unfortunately no, not anymore." Drew shook her head in answer to Janis's question, and when the light switched from red hand to green light, she started across the crosswalk, her pace something that she didn't put any thought into, so no one else would notice it as outstanding or beyond the ordinary. Janis walked with the sort of grace that came from being a predator, Drew simply walked. She was tired, but not enough to slouch and slag.

"I used to be... But everyone leaves or dies, only a few faces stick around. Those faces I know. I'm getting to know the newer ones. Mostly within the tribe, though." Her hand pops out of her pocket to scrub at the underside of her nose briefly before returning back into place. Her eyes hop up to Janis, continuing conversation while she guides them up streets and cracked sidewalks, foreclosed homes and sketchy gas stations.

"Who's family? You're... Fenrir, aren't you? That Family?"

[Janis Ian] Her voice rolls out in a throaty laugh, tipping her head in a slight nod. "I am." though, the brogue accentuating her words wouldn't pin her as one. "I 'ave an older brother and 'is wife, 'e works for the fire department in the northern part of the city."

Drew was tired, Janis can see it in her, but also takes in the way the kin doesn't slouch and slag with weariness. She pulls her hand out of her pocket, raises it to capture a lock of red hair that tries to curl along her jaw and tucks it behind one ear. She breathes out in a small sigh, furrowing her eyebrows as she stares ahead of them.

"I can understand what that's like. 'Tis not easy losing the ones ye try to 'old close and there not exactly within reach," her tone grows somber, the curve of her mouth flattening into a line. "Ye close to anyone 'ere? A mate..." it's innocent curiosity in the way she asks.

[Drew Roscoe] A nod acknowledges what Janis shares about her brother and his wife. A second, matched with a somewhat grim thinning of lips as they press together, is agreement and confirmation of how it's hard to lose people you're close to. The question about if she's got a mate, though, is answered with a bit of a chuckle and a shake of her head.

"No Mate, not just yet. I'd had one. War-Handed. Joe Holst. He was Jarl before Kora, strong Modi. Loved him more than I knew how." All of the past tense, it suggested that he went the way all good Modis do. Perhaps it was too soon for Drew (of course it was, look how young she is, with no signs to show she'd even gotten children to carry his memory with her), but who was to say what the right time was for a Warrior? It was always Whenever It Came.

Her shoulder rolls some, and she keeps her eyes forward as she continues. "Eli and I, we're close. But it's not the same thing as being Mated. No kids to come, no title to staple to it, and god knows how long it'll survive. But it is what it is, and I can appreciate that much."

[Janis Ian] Janis is taken by surprise the more she listens to the kin, her eyebrows shooting upright. Her eyes widening just a scant at how open Drew was with everything she says. It's the same openness she had experienced before and it weighs heavily on the thoughts tumbling over in her mind. She had said once she would keep secrets, dance under moonlight and shadows for what she wanted... but now, the Rotagar was swallowing some overwhelming sense of emotion that stirred with Drew's honesty.

She steps up next to the shorter kin, brushes her arm against Drew's shoulder. Janis knew about Drew - Eli had been straightforward when it came to what the kin meant to him, what he'd do for her. Her nostrils flare out as there's mention of the dead mate, the Jarl before Kora.

"Eli 'as a way of getting around," this spoken with a wry chuckle, shaking her head, "I know ye and Eli are close... and I'm not sure what 'e's mentioned of me to ye, as we seem to both share the same man and can appreciate what we can get from 'im."

[Drew Roscoe] Janis's proximity is accepted without fuss, one might even go so far as to say that it's welcomed when the taller Rotagar brushes against Drew, her arm to the Kin's shoulder. She's smiling up to hear what Janis has to say, but what comes next kills the smile as sure as her bullets killed the monsters in that apartment building.

Drew slowed some, then stopped walking completely. Humor, good nature, all of it had slipped away. Instead she's frowning, faintly, with a bit of a furrow to her brow. There's no shock on her face, no stab of pain or betrayal, or even anger-- be it at Janis or Elijah himself. Instead just that quiet little scowl, like she's thinking more than she is upset.

"...Hasn't mentioned that, that's for certain," is what she murmurs after a second. She's quiet for a second more, then shakes her head and waves her hand dismissively, gesturing forward. "You should go finish cleaning up, it's gonna take more than just waiting for Linus to mop up the spirit stains, you'll need triple-ply garbage bags and some bleach too. I expect you could get any of that at the gas station.

"I'm gonna go home. Ice my throat and have a drink. You enjoy the rest of your day, Janis."

The friendliness shut like a door, and while Drew didn't turn to walk away, didn't find a different side street and instead started walking forward again, all things about her posture and behavior suggested she was now walking separately from the Rotagar instead of with her anymore.

[Janis Ian] Janis slows her steps as Drew presses forward, her eyes reading the sudden change in posture and demeanor. How they no longer walked beside each other. The kin does not steer away, just keeps walking that same direct path. The Rotagar does not wear a gloating expression, hers is a mask of perplexed contemplation, gauging Drew's reactions.

She picks up the pace, keeps the distance that is now born between them as she listens to Drew make her comments on how Janis should go help. She release a weary sigh, there was no jealousy for the kin beside her, Janis had none to give.

"I'm not warning ye off, Drew," she finally says to her, "And we both don't know 'ow it'll end." She falls quiet then, the friendliness shut off like a door, the Rotagar can see nothing else in her speech to sooth that bitter pill.