meeting adrian.

[Adrian Vaughn] It was a cold night, the temp had dipped down into the lower thirties but that didn't stop the dedicated street workers from manning their prospective corners, but even the thugs and pimps took a break every now and then.

He however couldn't sleep -- as usual, it had been a month and half since he had gotten a good night in, he was becoming more and nocturnal in recent memory and that was starting to sit well with him. His fingers strumed along the length of a straw, he was holding onto a paper a cup, the twenty once variety and identifing marks, label it as a McDonalds cup.

It pressed to the birth of his lips as he took one final sip, the air sound of emptyness spills from the cup and shatters the silence that surrounds his walk. He drew the attention of a street worker, she wanted him badly. For once, he actually looked like he afford it, but after a cold hard stare into her eyes she soon got the picture and let him move on. His ebony skin illumated with from the light of Luna resting high above, his head tilted for only a moment to take in the sight, his walk paused for a only a beat to truly appreciate its astethic nature.

But his ipod, it never skipped anything. His mouth moved, but not auidible passed his lips, words fall silently to the ground as he continued down the dark streets, a globe of light from the street lamps above, light him every so often.

[Will Reiter] There's a tap on Adrian's shoulder. For a moment he might think it's the hooker, desperate for his cash (or maybe just a good lay from a reasonably attractive man, for once) -- but no. When he turns, it's a young man that looks at him. A boy, really. 16, 17, maybe 18 on the outside. Tall, but skinny. Even the bulk of his jacket can't hide the narrowness of his shoulders, or how his wrists stick out the sleeves, and how the fine bones there are sharp as stones beneath water.

"... ...?" Whatever he says is lost in the beat of Adrian's iPod. The boy motions at him: his ears, the earbuds, out. Kid like him shouldn't be wandering this part of town alone, especially not looking like him. Handsome kid. Pretty. Good, delicate bones in his face; a sculpted mouth. Someone might mistake him for a boy prostitute. Someone might make a pass, try to abduct.

Look at those eyes: rock steady, calm, fierce.
Someone might die screaming.

"... ... ..." -- he's talking again, his mouth moving. He gestures for Adrian to take his earbuds out once more.

[Adrian Vaughn] It takes him a moment to even registure that the boy is speaking, he was relaxed, perhaps a bit to relaxed. His fingers curled around the cup and crushed it. Adrian stared down into the eyes, watching for a moment - rock steady, calm, fierce.

A firm set jaw and look of steely determination is what he recieves, with just a hint of disdain. Instincts guide the eyes of Adrian, they lift up and look around first, as one hand freed his ears of the earplug headphones, he watched for things outa place, things that simply did not belong like unmarked cars in the hood. Most folks kept to themselves and now, a white boy comes up tapping him on the shoulder.

Might be a sting.

"...yeah..."

It was low, and it rolled off his tongue in a smokey loop, the scent of a vanilla riding through the fog of his breathe as he looked down upon the boy. Some one could think their fag couple, the way the look, perhaps a tad to cute to be real hard - straight. Someone might die screaming indeed.

[Will Reiter] "Keep walking around with your music up so loud, one day you're gonna get a real nasty surprise when someone sticks a knife your back." And who was he, one might ask, this skinny squirt of a white boy, to tell Adrian what to do? Then the young Forseti smiles, suddenly and slightly, but genuinely -- "It's good to see you, brah." He sticks out his hand. The fingers are long, tapering, fine. He could be a pianist. He could be a thief. He's the lawgiving hand of Fenris. "Me and my brother, we been looking for others" if Adrian took his hand, here Will squeezes down with surprising strength, "like us."

It's there in Will, as it is in Adrian. It's hard to believe men that looked so different could be family, but they were. The dark skin and dark eyes of one hides the same angry heart of Fenris that beats in the pale skin, pale eyes of the other. Their heritage is buried there: something about the angle of nose, the deepset eyes.

Release. Will jerks a backbent thumb up the street. "Let's talk."

[Adrian Vaughn] "And they'd fine teeth at throath, and later the heads at feet..." When will squeezed, his strength was matched, pound for pound. The blood of hero's never forgotten runs thick within the viens of the ebony skinned youth, yes. They were both young, so much in common pass the color ones skin.

"Have you..." It was meant to be a question, but the tone rolled off his tongue to flat for the inclination to be made properply. His eyes never lifted -- gaze purely unfaltering. "...you just gettin' in town?"

His tone picked a little bit, the words forming more quickly. The backing's of Gaia's fire linging them with the passsion of a bleeding heart as he stood before the youngster.

"cause I just got here myself..."

[Will Reiter] Will nods affirmation. "Just yesterday. I'm here with my big brother. I'm Will Reiter, he's Alaric. You'll meet him soon enough. Our dad sent us here to have a look around... see where we can pitch in. Get the Sept back together."

He says this with all the gravity and conviction of youth, as if this is the way it should be, and the way it shall be. Offhanded, and with utmost confidence. The quiet brand. His skinny hands slip into his pockets. Nearly as tall as Adrian, but not nearly as wide, he falls into step beside the other. There's nothing remarkable about his dress. Neither first-rate nor rags, he tugs his jacket closed, zips it, and continues on. The cold sets spots of red into his cheeks. His eyes are clear, aware; they pan ahead steadily. There's a sense that the young Forseti misses nothing at all.

"I guess it's best to start with the tribe. Word has it we're scattered, disunited. I was hoping you'd give me a briefing, but guess not. It's all right, we'll figure this shit out. You been to the caern yet?"

[Adrian Vaughn] There manner of dress speaks in volumes about their characters, where Will was unremarkable, Adrian bolistered in urban clothing, Sean Jean was the flavor, a pressed shirt and Jeans cuffed over a pair of timberland boots. It wasn't combat gear, but it was efficient. His head was propected by a do-rag and knitted hat.

"I've heard about the recent attack, I know where the caern, just been busy and haven't had the time to make my way over there yet." His words paused for a minute, as he took hold of a thought and let them flow again, a cacophany of sound rolling off his tongue, the purity of his shinning through.

"...Have you heard names, of the others who are here, cause you'be been here longer than me."

He just got intoday, maybe that explains the lax attitude, the jet lag could be killing him. Maybe, just maybe.

[Will Reiter] "Busy doin' what?" Piercing is one way to describe Will's eyes, but it really doesn't do it justice. Like a hawk's, they rivet, they fix, they bore to the soul. And that's just an offhand glance, a flicker of curiosity.

"I haven't heard anything. You're the first fullblood I've met. Met someone earlier today that might be worth a closer look, though. Later. His eyes were odd." The Forseti gestures at his own, drawing an imaginary line down the center of his right eye. "Slitted, I could've sworn.

"But anyway," dismissing the topic -- though never from memory, you can bet, "I did hear a lot of the folks like to gather at a local bar." His unlined brow furrows up, "The Brotherhood, I think." A faint snort, and for a moment he sounds like a high school junior in his most boring class. "A goddamn Coggie name if there ever was one."

[Alaric Reiter] ( So what is happening? )

PMed to: Will Reiter
[Will Reiter] they just walkin'. will ran into adrian, recognized him by his fenrir PB, and now they're talking about the city and whatnot. i think everything's still on the screen.

PMed to: Alaric Reiter
[Adrian Vaughn] "Grown folk stuff." And that was all he was going to say on it, his voice clipped the words to show the finalty his tone was now taking. Like a the final chapter in a book, it was over and done with.

"The Brotherhood--The Brotherhood of what?"A brow raised itself in the question as he looked into the eyes of the hawk that attempted to bore into his soul. A place that shouldn't be talked about, or even dreamth. All he gets is placid look with that hint of apathy touching to him. The music from the Ipod never skips a beat, it still screams from the earplug headphones as he had never pressed stop.

"...Where is it, might stop on by it tomorrow, if I got the time."

One started to slip into his pocket as he searched around for something. Then he pulled it free, his cell.

flip

"Yo', you got a number Will?" There, his shoulders were to relaxed, he looked as though he was totally off his gaurd and the trained eyes could see that, but the trained eyes wouldn't want to test that.

[Will Reiter] (AIM died, but i'm still here)

[Alaric Reiter] Earlier in the day, he'd departed from their shitty apartment with his little brother to go explore the city some more. It'd been uneventful driving about, so they'd opted to go afoot. At least, Alaric had, to go see if he could find himself that piece he was talking about earlier.

Adrian was never off his guard, and neither was Alaric, but Adrian's reflexes were just about to be tested (perhaps) as he stepped around the corner of an alley, heavy staredown gaze flicking out as he almost mowed down Will.

"Damn, kid!" he swore.

(Merit: Bruiser, Intimidation 4 [Staredowns] )

[Will Reiter] Will seems to think a moment, looking down to watch the pavement pass beneath his feet. Then he looks up and meets Adrian's eyes, slowing to a stop to make his point known.

And how quietly and seriously he does: "We're tribemates, brah, and I'm younger than you, but I'm also a Forseti of the Nation. I've seen as much as you. Maybe more. Keep your secrets if you want, but don't patronize me. Okay?"

A beat, then a shrug of his narrow shoulders. "Brotherhood of Thieves, I think? It doesn't matter." Will's pale eyes flicker at the phone. "We don't have a line installed yet. But we live--"

And then Will takes a rapid step backwards, as Alaric bowls into Adrian.

[Adrian Vaughn] Alaric came plowing and powering his way down the street and Adrian took notice of that cold hard stare. But he dared not moved. He was the son of Great Fenris, true born. Expect no quater and give none. It was words to live and die by, it was the words a lifestyle of the Fenris. It was in all of their blood.

There were the words of Will speaking to him and he listened as the man drew closer, a step or to closer and his fingers tips curled into fist.

He will not move.
He will not backdown.

"You lost something..."
The tone of that voice became drasticly darker, those deep chocolate brown eyes became near slivers, if his skin was as dark as it was, he might be red with anger. But his pigmentation does not betray his emotions. He had ways of expressing himself, he ways of letting on that he was serious and threath of violence was never far from his thoughts.

[Alaric Reiter] With an irritated glance at Will, Alaric's eyes shot to Adrian's closed fist. He, too, was the son of Great Fenris ( Pure Breed 1) although he was not true born. And such often rankled him. Garou or no, he would not back down to Adrian. Especially now that the man's hands had balled into fists. The Danish/German's own curled likewise.

Were he Garou, doubtless he would of been Modi. Blue eyes like a clear Scandinavian morning regarded the Fenrir not of his relation.

"Got a problem, peckerwood?" He shot a glance to Will as if to say, what the fuck, man. An obviously European but not-easily-placed accent peppered his voice.

[Will Reiter] Will makes a noncommital gesture; something between a shrug and a twist of his mouth. Watchful, he lets the confrontation unfold -- for now. Fenrir needed to fight, trueborn or not. And he knew Alaric wouldn't thank him for breaking it up now. Would probably see it as protection he didn't need, or worse.

"Meet my brother Alaric," is all he says, quietly. "'aric, this's one of ours." Adrian hadn't offered his name yet, but Will wasn't about to add fuel to the fire.

[Adrian Vaughn] "You rolled up me...Cracker, so the question is. How much do you like breathing." His eyes burned with hatred and rage, if he would born true, he just might be a Modi, like his Adrian Great Great Grandfather was, and maybe Alaric just might be able to piss in the vancity as his Eldest Ancestor.

"Yeah, Adrain Vaughn--"The words form slowly again, his muscles tense up, underneath his leather jacket the magic begs to let losse, to free itself from the confines of his arm and shred him limb from bloodly limb, but he doesn't. And it wasn't from mercy.

"--Your brother told me we would meet soon enough, but I didn't he ment this soon." He seemed to calm after the admission that they were brothers, A glance is taken to take them both in. One thick and ripped, ready tear the wyrms bleeding heart right out of its putrid chest and other, a forseti who gaze could shivers down spines and he looks to wiegh 100 pounds...

...soaking wet...

...with rocks in his pockets.

[Alaric Reiter] "Indeed." Weighing, measuring, the bruiser's words rang out clipped for the moment until his fists unclenched and his shoulders visibly relaxed a touch, as relaxed as any ever saw him. He didn't have the fortune of a Garou's regenerative power, so it was never good for him to let down his guard and be taken unawares.

"Alaric Reiter, son of Damek Blödigehamer," he said, his father's deedname spoken quiet fluently.

So, this strutting pretty poppinjay was one of Fenris'. It seemed these Americans let just anyone into the club. "Mm. I had no notion there was going to be any meeting, although I would not dismiss it. Finding others of our own in this city is not a bad thing."

[Adrian Vaughn] [OOC Note: Fenrir Rock!!!]

[Will Reiter] (ooc note: fuckin DRUNK)

[Alaric Reiter] ( ooc note: that figures )

[Will Reiter] The forseti--

(that'd be the one whose gave could send shivers down the spine, who looks to weigh 100 pounds soaking wet. With rocks in his pockets.)

--looks from one to the other. And then, as if nothing had ever occurred, continues on. His pace is easy. Relaxed. Slow, even. His hands stay in his pockets. He continues, "Adrian's new in the city too, 'Aric. You manage to get our phone hooked up yet, or are we still dead in the water?"

[Adrian Vaughn] That wasn't true - the Fenrir - American or not just didn't let anyone in. The breed with the strongest, the fastest, the one quickest to slaughter the wyrm, the ones who stand atop a pile of a 1000 corpses of wrym spawn and beg for more.

He just happen to make all that look good. His eyes moved between the brothers as he watched them both, still gauging and sizing them up and wondering if he could take them both if he struck now. Just the Fenris blood pumping through his viens, the passion of a nation trapped inside this one.

Yah, that whole phone thing would helpful as one hand was still holding onto his. Funny how Fenrir seem to mirror one another, that easy pace is matched, flow for flow. His eyes opened back up more full and all was now forgotten and they moved as simple as that. It was their way, got aggression - let it out and move on.

"Yeah, been here less than half a day and its already lookin' like this is goin' to be interestin'....to say the least."

[Alaric Reiter] Alaric snorted. To Garou and Kin alike, their lives were far from interesting. Case in point: who would honestly take you seriously if you told them you fucked a chick that could possibly become hairier than yourself?

"Chick from the phone company said it'd be hooked up tomorrow. Sounded the ditzy sort, but whatcha gonna do?" He shook his head, and gave Adrian the number he was given from the phone company. It was easy to see, sometimes, how people often had mistaken Alaric for the Garou out of the two of the brothers. Then again, Will was his half-brother. Surprisingly enough, Alaric had come to terms with his father's infidelity many years ago. Skalds would be Skalds, after all. Chick in every port and all that.

"You got a place to bunk yet?" Fully eight years older than his forseti relative, he had a bit more experience than the youngster in some ways and covered all bases. As for Adrian? His perception of the man was yet to be seen.

[Will Reiter] Will stays quiet. Another reason people mistook the two, which was Garou and which was not: Will often let his brother speak.

He was the elder, after all.

(that and the fuck that i'm FLAT OUT SMASHED NOW... LOL)

[Adrian Vaughn] The number was stored into the digital memory banks of the phone. His eyes kept drifting from one the other, his eyes lifted up when Alaric asked him that question. "Yah, I got a place on the other side of town...but ya know us black folks, we always seem to gravitate back towards where we grew up"

There was a small chuckle that filled his throath as he looked around the hood. He was from the streets of the ATL, the seedier parts that they didn't show on t.v or in the catalogs. It where he gets his edge, his touch of apathy, and his survial.

"You can take a nigga outa the hood, but you can't take the hood outa a nigga...its what we always say." It seems to hold true, but he ain't so bad. On the surface, his music aids him.

Which echoes in the backdrop of things.

[Alaric Reiter] It seemed perhaps that Adrian and Alaric might get along after all. He was a bounty hunter, from time to time, and seedy was an understatement to the Hells he's been in in both Europe and America. The roughest place he had to go to was Dublin, once.

"Yeah, I can imagine."

[Will Reiter] "Where you come from, Vaughn?" Another his age calling a man by his last name would seem pretentious. Will doesn't. Will never seems fuckin' pretentious. He seems as he is: a Forseti of Fenris. A lawman bred from the wolfking's blood. "You grow up here or somethin'?"

[Adrian Vaughn] There was the feintest of smiles on the corners of his lips, his eyes started to wander off further as the phone slipped back down into the trenches of his pockets. His hand extended out to Alaric, his fingers are fined formed.

"I'm from the ATL..." He stated - flat. Dry toned. His eyes moving over to Will for a moment to concentrate upon him, watching, intently. "...It mirrors here, in ways, but ain't no place like the south." There was a pause, a beat passed and then he lifted one earplug into his ears, half the world being drowned out in and instant but he still retained enough of his hearing.

"Look, its been real. But I gotta jet, ya know. Stuff to do--"
He was never to verbose about his doing's and whereabouts, it was his business and his alone. "--be cool and we'll catch up later eh?" He didn't even wait for affirmation, it was all siad and done he wasn't big on the whole good bye thing, atleast not with them.

[Adrian Vaughn] Thanks for the fun! If ya guys drop one more post...I'll stay to watch.

PMed to: Alaric Reiter, Will Reiter
[Alaric Reiter] Alaric nodded after Adrian. "Yeah. Later." Looking back to Will. "C'mon kid. Let's get back home and make sure no one robbed the fucker." With that, he headed off to look for their car with Will leading since he's the one that parked it.

[Will Reiter] "I'll be seein' you, I'm sure." Will is similarly brisk with his goodbyes. Small wonder. His idea of a hello had been to warn of potential attacks. Then, turning, he puts his hands in his pockets and trails after his brother.