Attention [Yiorgie, Cash, Sophia]

Yiorgie Alexander
The gymnasium has been a haven for the Silver Fang.  It was a place where he could be a Garou, and not have to worry about prying human eyes and ears.  He could speak as he liked, work out as he liked, and keep close company with Garou and Kinfolk alike.  Hanging out with the Bone Gnawers had its ups and downs.  They kept him tuned in to the pulse of the city, and he let them make fun of his Bone Gnawer nickname, which is "Garlic-Breath."  Yiorgie was actually proud of the name, given its origin, and the person who gave it to him.  Having the Bone Gnawers on his side was important, and letting them call him Garlic-Breath was a worthwhile price to pay.

Staying with Drew had its perks.  He could come and go as he pleased, and there was always someone there when he got back.  She helped him clean up when he would return to the house with cuts and scrapes.  He had to keep in shape, which meant that he had to engage in combat.  He felt almost naked without the Vanguard at his back...

The Fang left the weight room, and walked into the gymnasium proper, where a group of Bone Gnawers were eating pizza and playing basketball.  Isobel must have brought them more food.


Cash VeichtThere's more than Gnawer in the gym tonight. Though it would be hard to tell the difference between the werewolf  at the weight bench and the Gnawer' playing ball. That is until you take a closer look. Cash's blood is watered down and he carries as much pure breeding in his bones as the Urrah not a hundred feet from him.

Lying on the weight bench, shirtless with faded old blue jeans, Cash is bench pressing well over 200 pounds. The weights clink into place and he slowly sits up, a hand raking back through his hair before dropping to itch at one scarred shoulder.

None of the Garou know a whole lot about Cash. He's a variable. A fucking strong and powerful unknown plopped right in the middle of their safe haven. Depending on the color of the skin on the Bone Gnawers, the Modi pays them little attention. His stare is feral, his Rage tethered by his Willpower, just barely.


Drew RoscoeThis facility was a brand new creature for Drew.  She'd never been here before.  Truth be told, she hadn't really interacted with any of the city-living Garou since she moved out to the east coast.  She was content to stay in her house out in the sticks surrounding Browntown, Virginia.  She only really came into the city when she had to visit the office for a meeting, which happened only several times a month, sometimes even less.

Yiorgie had been staying in one of her guest bedrooms for a little while now.  They had an amicable relationship, polite and understanding without being very invasive.  Yiorgie was gone during the day for the most part, and would often come back into the house only once the sun was down, dribbling blood on the hardwood floors despite his best efforts to stifle the flow from some errant cut or wound with a sweatshirt or his own hands.  She was a Good Kin, she didn't shy away from even the more gruesome displays.  She would help as it was needed, but often retire to bed before the strike of midnight on the living room clock.
Tonight she was aware that he would be at this country club on the City-Sept's turf, he'd mentioned that he would be taking advantage of the equipment available and perhaps do some socializing.  Drew had a meeting in the city, so she'd offered to be a set of wheels for him.  She drove them into the set, let the Silver Fang out wherever was convenient, and went to spend a (very) full day at the office.  Now that it was night, she had come seeking her impromptu housemate.

Somewhere around the ten 'o clock hour, the petite Kinfolk edged her casual and curious way in through one of several gymnasium doors, peeking in and getting a glance about before entering completely and letting the heavy door ease closed behind her.  She was still dressed in office attire-- a green dress with a loose and easy skirt that stopped just above the knees, a thin brown trenchcoat tied closed, and shin-high brown boots.  Her dense mass of brown hair was tied back with a green ribbon securing it in a ponytail.  This was the last time she'd be in the office between now and St. Patrick's Day, so she figured she'd dress the season while she had the opportunity.

Most people were noted but not sought out.  If she made eye contact with strangers she would flash a quick bright smile to them, polite as can be, and dip her chin in a nod of recognition before moving on.  On, until she spied the Silver Fang with the scars all about his face and scalp.  Eyebrows hopped up, having found the familiar face, and she crossed the gym to meet up with the one name she knew here.


Yiorgie AlexanderOf all the people in the gymnasium, Yiorgie was the most out of place.  His breeding was powerful.  He came from the Tribe of Kings, the Tribe That Leads, and every feature was a throwback to this hero or that.  His posture was upright, but he did not look down his nose at people.  He did not seem to push people away with his stance, but neither would he be pushed.

He stood amongst the people in the gymnasium, bare chested and sweaty.  His flesh was a tapestry of the many wars that he had waged.  His left shoulder was a mess, with many puncture wounds that clearly came from jaws much larger than his body.  His shoulder did seem slightly off, but he did not seem any worse for wear.  He was riddled with superficial scars, as well as those that obviously bothered him when it got hot and humid, which was common in the temperate zone of the east.  He had gouges, slashes, bullet hole wounds, and more.  It even seemed as if something had exploded near his face, as there were trails where shrapnel carved through his flesh, and into his scalp, leaving deep gouges where there should be hair.  Yet, for all of his scars, he was alive, and so were his former packmates...

"Hey Drew... you look lovely," he remarked.  The New Moon allowed him such pleasantries.  His Rage was great, but Luna did not tug at it the way She did during his auspice moon.  He was bare chested, and unapologetic.

Yiorgie looked around while he drank from a bottle of water.  He had worked out next to the Fenrir in the gym, but did not say anything.  Yiorgie could feel the man's Rage, even during the New Moon.  There was something terribly chaotic about the man, even reckless, dangerous.  So rather than bother the man, he simply continued his workout.

"You're going to cause a frenzy, I think," Yiorgie said.  The Gnawers had noticed her.  If they didn't wolf-call her, then they definitely gave her a longer look.  Yiorgie couldn't help but grin slightly, and pass her a knowing look.


Cash VeichtNot having a lick of breeding himself, Cash picks up on the weight of it within Yiorgie and Drew's blood. It was in every bit of their features and the regal curvature of their spine. He slouched. He prowled and stalked. His words ran out of his mouth like warm honey. Outwardly, he looked the part of a Fenrir though : dark blond hair, pale eyes, strong as an ox and capable.

Standing from the weight bench he follows after Yiorgie -- who holds the majority of his attention. At least until others start to wolf call at Drew. His brow knots together, muscles tense unconsciously. A white wife beater hangs out of his back pocket, his chest is a criss cross of white scar tissue though no where near as bad as Yiorgie's. There's a quiet air of fine tolerance about Cash when he looks at a Bone Gnawer with skin the color of chocolate. His nose twitches and he sniffs, eyes wandering over Drew again and then the Fang.

"Sup." He says, voice a low thrumming growl always.


Drew RoscoeThe compliment is met by a grin.  Drew had many smiles, all different from one another in the slightest ways-- in how the corners of her eyes crinkled, where her eyebrows were held, how tight the corners of her mouth got, how much teeth showed.  Typically when she greeted people her smile was closed-lipped and bright-eyed.  Engaging, but predominantly polite.  The grin flashed at Yiorgie was more comfortable and relaxed, a bit more genuine and at ease.  Far from romantic, but familiar anyways.

"And you look healthy," she returned.  His follow-up comment was waved away with a gesture from one hand before it went to rest parallel its twin in a coat pocket.  She glanced to the small group about the pizza box near a basketball hoop at one end of the gym, and nodded her head up toward them with a chuckle.  "Oh, I don't think that's anything I've got to worry about."

Even still, a wolf-whistle or two spark up.  It can't be helped in a place like this-- a bunch of men with their testosterone and adrenaline all spiked from sports, work-out regimen, and what have you.  She shook her head a little and looked back to the Full-Moon Royal.  Her mouth opened to say something, the look on her face suggesting she was about to ask a question, but paused at the low rumble of a greeting that came from her right.

Cash, as any other would be, is answered with a bright smile.  Drew even bothered to turn her shoulders completely to face him while they exchanged what could be called pleasantries.  "Oh, nothing.  Just passing through on the way home.  What's up with you?"

She's utterly undeterred by the concept of being flanked by bare chested scar-riddled monsters.


Treads-the-Ashen-PathWhat brings a creature like Sophia into such a place. It likely wasn't the smell of stale sweat and mildew though you never know what a crescent moon might be collecting on any given night. The sliver of light that was the moon this evening was little comfort to the Theurge. Luna could not see her and that meant she could not be heard. Luna had the most beautiful of voices it just took time and concentration to hear her. However, tonight she was silent and this left the crescent moon alone with the throngs of voices that echoed within her head.

So many longed for peace and quiet but not Sophia... Quiet was the thing she dreaded most of all in the world because it was the quiet that separated her mind from the present and plunged it into the past. Some nights it was difficult just recognizing the difference between this moment and any other given moment in time.
Those greyish-blue eyes of hers were ageless, ancient for those who knew what she had seen with them, and her golden hair was allowed to flow freely as she made her way into the... What was this place again? Hmm... Room full of healthy young men working out... Yes! This seemed like the place Sophia was needed most at the moment! Definitely here!

So in she came pausing to examine the equipment as she entered with wide eyes full of surprise and wonder. Each little machine had it's own shape and function and she found herself curious about them all! She also found herself wondering how she might improve them.

Sadly it was hard for Sophia to stand among her own kind and not find herself noticed. So even as she kept to the background she was almost impossible to ignore. Her breeding was overwhelming and powerful... Her face looked as if it had been chiseled from the Marble so beloved by her ancestors, and then painted the softest hint of fleshtone to add a flush of color to her face. She did not stand with the regal appeal of Kings who once called themselves Emperors... Rulers of the known world... She stood low, more interested in her surroundings than anything else. It was impossible to deny the strength of her heritage but she didn't appear to know she even had it.


Yiorgie AlexanderYiorgie did not answer Cash immediately.  Drew had taken up speaking with him, and the Fang seemed content with that for the time being.  Yiorgie did not know Drew as well as he had known other Kinfolk in his life.  Yet, the girl had been kind to him.  She had taken him in, given him a place to stay.  For a girl who had no one in her life, and was willing to take in wayward Garou, he felt a certain kind of affection for her.

When she began speaking to Cash, his eyes did not linger on her.  They focused more on the Bone Gnawers nearby, who had returned to their regular activities.  They had gotten an eyeful of Drew, and were now playing basketball contently.  That, and eating pizza.  When his attention returned to Cash and Drew, his eyes focused mainly on Cash.  The Silver Fang's gaze was not challenging, but it was slightly severe.  Much of it was simply the bravado of one male wolf to another.  Another aspect of it was to make it clear that he would not tolerate the mistreatment of Kinfolk.  They are the Nation's most valuable resource, after all.  Yiorgie knew that better than most, especially since he was a guest in her home.

"Not much.  Relaxing... for a change," he said, quite ironically.  He spent his free time working out, and stressing out. 

"You're new here," he said, also ironically.  Yiorgie was just as new.

"Ah... Sophia," he said, nodding his head upward to her to catch her attention.  The Theurge was cryptic, and likely held strange secrets.  Such was the nature of their Lodge.  In truth, Yiorgie was hoping to speak with her.  He had always felt at odds with being a member of the Moon Lodge.  He wished he understand it more.


Cash VeichtCash doesn't seem to be threatened by Yiorgie, and while his eyes meet the Silver Fangs they don't push and pull at his Rage as if he had something to prove. The breeding the Fang bears is enough to earn him an ounce of automatic respect, what the other Ahroun did with that was yet to be seen. Quiet, the Modi's eyes shift from Yiorgie to Drew, watching them both carefully but saying a whole lot of nothing. A hand tugs the muscle shirt out of his back pocket and he tugs it on, giving Drew one less chest to tolerate. Both hands move through his hair, scratching his scalp absently before his arms fall back to his side. Whatever Yiorgie might or might not tolerate Cash didn't know, but he at least seemed respectful of the other members of the Awakening Sept.

"Yeah?" He says to Drew first, pale eyes cutting sidelong to give her a full on look while he grabs his water bottle which had been sitting next to a black hoodie, his as well. "Workin' out."

Sophie's entrance, makes Cash a little more uncertain. He watches both Fangs curiously, though his eyes always fall back on Drew.

"Yup, just got here a few weeks ago. Cash Veicht, Fostern modi, son of great Fenris. Known as Tempered Fury to the nation." He nods to the trio.

"You Fenrir blood?" He finally says to Drew without beating around the bush.


Drew RoscoeThe formal greeting was probably intended more for the Garou in the room than it was for Drew.  The Kinfolk didn't seem to notice that fact, though, because she answered Cash's greeting by sticking a hand out for a shake.  Yeah, his palm was probably sweaty still.  Despite the clean and well put together outfit that she was wearing she didn't seem to care too much about dirt and grime and smells.

"Drew Roscoe.  Also known as Long-Shot, to any who bother using that name anymore."

Regardless of if he accepts the hand shake or not, Drew finds an easy comfort in just standing alone.  Her weight balanced more dominantly on one leg than the other, causing the the other knee to pop out some while relaxed.  Her hands would inevitably end up in her coat pockets again.  "I am.  Not from around here, though, from back in the Midwest.  I'm gonna guess that you are?  Otherwise you probably wouldn't care much what I am or ain't."  This conversation is started easily enough.  The brown-eyed Kin had an engaging quality about her, she seemed easy to talk to.

Yiorgie was calling a greeting to somebody named Sophia, and Drew cast her attention toward the very noble-featured young blonde woman just long enough to decide that she didn't recognize her.  It wasn't long before she was looking back up to the Modi, waiting for his response.


Treads-the-Ashen-PathShe gives a blink when she is noticed. Her eyes drifting from the ones playing basketball to the one who called out her name. She gave a smile in his direction. What did he want with her? What we he calling out her name? Did he just want to point out that he saw her? Did he want her to come over there and speak to him? He was being very strange with that comment and to be quite honest it had the Silver Fang a bit unsettled as her eyes narrowed and she ducked behind the nearest bench to look in his direction.

First him, and then the others. What were they doing? Why did they look so confrontational? What was Yiorgie doing so close to another Tribe's kin? Oh my is this one of those... Things?

Garou were such silly things sometimes. That came especially so for the boys in relation to the girls. She had to admit she never understood the entire idea of clinging to one's tribe... She also never understood the idea of clinging to anyone like they were the only thing in the world. How many garou have been slain over the matter of who gets to fuck who for what reason and under what circumstance? The simple answer would be far too many... She had seen it in her head over and over and over again. For love, they claim, for their undying unending love... They would forsake their duty to gaia, they would throw away everything that was invested in them, the trust and faith of their packmates, every fiber of everything they stood for all for some useless little idea they liked to call love. That wasn't love... That was selfishness plain and simple, the purest, foulest, most wyrm corrupted emotion that all garou were guilty of. They stunk of it down to their very core... That and old gym socks. Well... Mostly she was smelling the Gym socks to tell the truth. But there was probably some selfishness in there!


Yiorgie AlexanderTo call Yiorgie a member of the Awakening would be a mild insult to the Sept.  He had spent the vast majority of his time in the city, with the members of the city's Sept.  He has stood guard within the caern's borders, but he has not openly sworn fealty to the Sept itself.  He won't, if he has the choice.  It would be no disrespect against the Sept, or its patron Totem.  He knew his place, he knew the kind of warfare he wanted to wage.  To be a member of a Sept would be counter-productive.  He would be stuck in one place most of the time, and that simply would not do.

Tempered-Fury.  That did not seem likely, considering the nigh-unbridled Rage that the fellow Ahroun seemed to exude.  A deed name is still a representation of what the Garou is, or did.  Something about this Fenrir must be tempered.

"I'm Yiorgie, Fostern to the Silver Fangs," he said.  The Fang was less than formal.  He was clearly not a courtly Fang.  "I'm known as Born-From-Battle," he said, and did not go into greater detail.  His skin was proof enough of his auspice.

"I haven't heard of you, sorry to say," he said, genuinely.  "Where have you fought?" Yiorgie asked, eagerly hoping that the Fenrir would name a place that he had been.  Sometimes proximity was enough to strike up a rousing conversation, or even gamecraft.

Sophia was... odd.  Theurge are often that way, and Yiorgie did not seem turned off by it.  The Betrayed Moon shone brightly in Sophia, and it was plain enough for Yiorgie to see.  The Ahroun tried to fight the Secret of Kingship in himself, but he always lost.  Always lost.  Drew would know that better than anyone in the city.  She could hear his fright, and panic at night occasionally.


Cash VeichtDrew offers her hand, he takes it. The shake is brief, his hand is warm and moist though that doesn't seem to concern him. Eyes work their way over Drew's face from forehead to brow to nose to lips to chin and then he drops his grip and removes his attention from her moving it to Sophia's odd behavior. One brow perks up and one corner of his mouth does the same. She was interesting at least.

Who knew how Cash got his deed name. Tempered Fury wasn't his first deed name and as he clawed his way up the ladder of Renown, his deeds would label him something else and something else after that. The Fenrir that stands before them has roots far from here, in the bayous and swamps of the south, though there's a little bit of  the southeast touching his words as well. Mostly, though, he's rough at the edges. Hard to take and even harder to know.

Pale eyes look at Yiorgie for a long moment before he averts his eyes beneath the weight of all that breeding. Water bottle tipped up, he gulps the water down and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Charleston." Is his answer. "Had my rite of passage 'n fostern challenge there. You?"


Drew RoscoeThis was a situation that every Kinfolk would inevitably find themselves in.  Drew was simply accustomed to it by now.  When in company mixed with Garou, there was always a point when the 'Grown-Ups' would come together to talk about 'Grown-Up Stuff'.  While Drew understood precisely what they were saying, while she could follow along just fine to know what a Rite of Passage was, what the ranks were, and even had some vague recall of conversations from way before where the locations of other Septs were.  Charleston she remembered had a Sept, although she couldn't remember much else about it.

All the same, while she could listen in on these conversations just fine she had nothing much to contribute to them-- not in any way that wouldn't make it seem like she was trying to prove something or pull attention to herself.  So, instead, she twisted idly at the waist to flare her skirt some, whirling it back and forth a couple of times before stilling, checking a watch under her coat sleeve, and speaking to the Full Moon King.

"Yiorgie, I'm gonna go take a look around, see what else they have here.  I didn't even realize this rec center existed.  I'll meet you out at the truck in a bit, alright?  I'm just parked in the main lot."  She'd graze his upper arm briefly with her fingers to catch his attention, but the touch was brief and passing.  To make sure she had his attention to hear her words and not much else.

To Cash:  "Here."  She produced a folded up sticky note from her pocket and handed it over.  It was already written on, and had her name on the front.  If he opened it, her phone number was on the inside.  "Cash, family is family.  If you need something, that phone doesn't get turned off.  You just call, alright?  It was good to meet you."

To Sophia:  Another glance in her direction, and a wave accompanied by a smile, regardless of whether the gesture was returned or not.  She was a friend of Yiorgie's, so that deserved at least acknowledgment and some form of farewell before leaving.

With all that said and done, the Kinfolk turned (pausing only to scoop up an errant basketball and lob it [successfully!] back up the court to the Gnawer crowd) and made her way out of the gymnasium to go poke about and see what else this building had to offer.