Coffee with a friendly face
Jan. 4th, 2011 05:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shelbyrouIt is currently 12:37 Pacific Time on Tue Jan 4 2011.
Currently the moon is in the waning New (Ragabash) Moon phase (1% full).
Medina Coffees
Since falling under new management in the past year, this place has somewhat fallen into disrepair. The walls are stained, greasy. The front window has not been washed in at least three months, obscuring any view of the outdoors. There are more tables now, though few are new or in good repair. The scent of cigarette smoke hangs in the air, competing with the rich smell of various coffees.
The way to the street is on the western side of the shop. Items here may be seen by +view.
Obvious exits:
Street
Though she's better-dressed than at least 90% of the clientele, Shelby seems blissfully unaware of this fact as she returns to her seat with her coffee freshly creamed. "It's been a while since I've been out - just out, not doing anything," she admits to the other Ragabash with an appreciative glance around the room. "The last couple of weeks have been...." Whatever they've been, she doesn't finish, but offers a rueful smile across the way. "How was your New Year?"
"Quiet," Kevin says. "Stayed home, watched the celebrations on television with Casey. What's been keeping you so busy?" He sips his own coffee.
"Casey?" the teen echoes, curious, before turning her attention to her own drink. "I went out to see my grandparents in November. I guess that's not recent, but I feel like I haven't gotten back into the groove since I've been back. I went on a, hm." She takes a moment to sip, glancing around, before continuing. "A trip with some people. You know the one who's just graduated to third grade? Him."
"My cat," Kevin explains. He raises one eyebrow to the mention of the trip. "I know who you mean... I think. Go anywhere interesting? Was it, ah, a business trip?"
Kevin Lockwood is now into his twenties, and physically, he blends in pretty well with those who would outwardly seem to be his peers - he's taller than many of them, leaner than most, and perhaps a little more mature-looking than the average. As ever his face contains a long chin, large nose, heavy eyebrows and brown eyes. He's resumed his previous style of long wavy hair combined with a clean shaven face.
His clothing seems to run pretty much entirely to black. Black jeans, a black t-shirt with the CND 'peace' symbol being struck by lightning, and a smart black windcheater jacket over the top of it. Also black, though rather less expected, is the studded leather dog-collar he sports around his neck.
He's a couple of inches over six feet tall now, much of it his long legs, as ever; sometimes, particularly when sitting down, he doesn't seem to know what to do with those legs, crossing them, tucking them under himself, swinging them sideways, or a dozen other uncomfortable-seeming positions.
"Oh, I remember her now," Shelby claims with one of her quick, brilliant smiles. "How is she doing?" Further questions will have to wait, as a dull-eyed teenager bangs a tray with their sandwiches on the table and slumps off again. The Fang nudges the plate with Kevin's closer to him but waits until he's claimed it before taking her own. "It was. I got there just after we lost Kerr. Everything else went well, though. In the end."
Kevin takes the plate with his sandwich, then pauses, looking at Shelby from under lowered eyebrows. "...lost Kerr?" he says, suspiciously.
Shelby's eyes widen, her hands freezing over her plate. "You hadn't heard? Kerr's not with us anymore. I don't know what happened, but, um." Another glance around must prove there aren't many curious eyes, for the Fang curves her fingers into claws and makes a quick tear over her throat before picking up her sandwich.
Kevin looks horrified for a second or two before forcing himself into some semblance of a poker face. "Good goddamn," he mutters, picking up his own sandwich and staring at it as though his appetite has suddenly evaporated.
"Yeah," the girl agrees, and frowns down at her own lunch. "I don't know what she was doing there in the first place. Children shouldn't go on that sort of trip. They just... shouldn't." She glances up at him, offering a wan not-smile. "Thank you, by the way. You're one of the first who seemed to care. Nobody else there really did."
"No child of mine..." Kevin begins, before making an angry gesture with his hand and nearly knocking over his coffee. "Well, Silv... youknowwho... has never cared a damn about any living creature or person anyway... Who else was there?"
Shelby makes an abortive reach for that nearly-knocked-over cup, abandoning her sandwich in lieu of cradling her mug in both hands instead. "His own child, a new, um, Iago," blue eyes glance over to see if the euphemism rings a bell, "named Xander, and Jacey, of all people."
"Interesting little menagerie." Kevin stirs his coffee with somewhat unnecessary force, then licks the stirrer. So what was the end of this excursion?"
As to that, Shelby can only shrug. "We found whatever it was the main man was looking for. I wasn't really there for the end of it. I took a little nap." Lowering her voice, she adds, "I can tell you more later." Sitting back, she finally starts in on her lunch. "Oh - August asked me to ask around about some tunnels in your neck of the woods, but I heard they're on someone's personal property. Have you heard about them?"
"Please do. I want to know the full story when... circumstances permit." He leans in towards Shelby, lowers his voice a little. "Tunnels... as in the sewers, or something else?"
"That also might be something to talk about later," the younger Ragabash suggests with an apologetic grimace. "I don't know much about them, except that they're on someone's private property. I'm not sure why he asked me to look into them, except that he probably didn't know. I haven't had any luck joining a club," she adds, apropos of not much.
Kevin gets a distinct gleam in his eye at this last statement. "Maybe," he suggests, "we ought to just drink up our coffees and head someplace quieter?"
"Turn this into take out?" Shelby returns, nodding after a moment. "Yes, that sounds good. Want me to see if they have a to-go cup for you?" Her own coffee is only half-gone, but from the way she's been sipping at it, leaving the rest behind probably wouldn't be a hardship.
Kevin shakes his head, and drains the remainder of his own coffee in one long go, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "I'm good," he says when he gets his breath back. "Shall we?"
Shelby says, "Let's," and makes short work of bundling her sandwich into a napkin. A glance outside and she does take another swallow of coffee before wrapping her hands around the mug, but it's quickly back into her outer gear. As they head for the door, "Where did you have in mind? Your place? Or mine?"
"I hadn't gotten that far," confesses Kevin. "Either as long as they're safe."
"Yours is closer," Shelby notes. "But I've got my car so really, whichever you'd prefer."
"Yours is quieter," points out Kevin. "One of these days I must try and get a car myself..."
She tilts a smile up at him before heading for her car with a nod. "My place, then." Once they're both buckled in she makes for Kent Crossing, a more cautious driver than one might expect of an eighteen-year-old. Less than thirty minutes after leaving the coffee shop the pair walk into Zosia's country house, and Shelby, after hanging up her coat and slipping out of shoes, heads back for the kitchen. "Zosia's probably out patrolling."
Country House
Kevin follows Shelby into the kitchen. "Nice place, this. Makes my little apartment look like the broom closet it is."
Waving him to the table, Shelby sets the coffee pot brewing and fetches down a pair of plates. "It's all Zosia's. I've thought about moving out, but honestly, I'd be lucky if I could afford even a broom closet. So I keep my nose clean. It used to be a lot more crowded, but then Claude and August essentially moved onto the bawn."
"All right," Kevin says, taking a deep breath. "So Silvertip managed to get Kerr killed, right? I am understanding this correctly?"
Plates in hand and frown on face, Shelby returns to the table. "...I'm not sure," she says finally, unhappily. "Maybe? Here, let me tell you what I know from the beginning." As the coffee drips in the background, she briskly goes over the event: hearing Silvertip's call to fight a bane. When she and Jacey arrived Silvertip, his cub Elk-Tail, and the new Shadow Lord Xander were there, as well as Kerr's body and the corpse of a metallic bear. How the Adren had her and Elk-Tail take the cub's body to the Sept Compound. She pauses there, looking grim.
"And she's still there now?" Kevin asks, looking grim. "Jesus. What the hell is KL doing about all this?"
"I don't know," Shelby admits, busying her hands with unwrapping her sandwich and placing it just so on her plate, then taking the napkin across the room to dispose of it in recycling. "That's not all, though. After it got dark, we went across the gauntlet. Little Silvertip-rhya must have summoned the bane, or something. He told us to use hit and run tactics, but I don't know that it did much of any good. I think Xander frenzied, but then I got hit by flames and I started to crystallize. I think. When they got me out it was like I couldn't even lift my feet, I was so tired."
"This really isn't good," Kevin says in a low tone. "I knew that things had been quiet in the sept too long..."
"They're not really quiet, though," the girl points out as she slides back into her chair. "It's all there, just simmering away." She picks up her sandwich, but before taking a bite she adds, "Did you know that he apparently has a totem spirit? Little Silvertip, I mean, not the theurge."
"Does he," Kevin says with a jaundiced air. "And what exactly is he doing with it?"
Shelby says, "Asking it for help and healing," as though that were the obvious thing to do with one. After chewing and swallowing she adds, "It's a bear. --I never got a scratch on me," she adds, sounding slightly vexed. "It doesn't seem fair, me walking away unharmed and that happening to Kerr."
"Survivor's guilt," Kevin diagnoses. "Had that myself plenty of times... You must try not to let it get to you. Sometimes, you have to just accept that you got lucky and someone else drew the short straw."
Shelby nods, unhappy but resigned. "I know. It's not like I could have done anything about it - I wasn't even there." She offers over the same sort of smile. "But anyway, those tunnels. Like I said, August-rhya asked me to look into them, but asking around, it sounds like they're all on Fidelity territory? I wouldn't feel right, pushing in there. I figure if they want any help, they'll ask for it themselves, right?"
"Well, I guess so," Kevin says. "I don't know anything about these tunnels, if they aren't part of the sewers I had to go scouting around for my Fostern challenge last year. Are they some kind of different network?"
Shelby has to shrug again. "I really don't know, Kevin-rhya. All I know is what I've told you. There are some tunnels, Solsiva and Jacey were scouting them, but I talked to Jacey and the tunnels are on Fidelity's territory. If your tunnels - sewers - were on their territory too, then they might be the same. But your guess is as good as mine." Another pause and she adds, "He also mentioned vampires, but I don't know if that's fact, or if he's just assuming."
"Well, what other point could a bunch of tunnels below the city serve?" asks Kevin. "There's never been a subway in St Claire that I know of, has there?"
The girl with Virginia in her voice merely blinks at him. "I'm sure I wouldn't know," she says after a moment, perfectly polite. "Wouldn't that be a better question for someone who's lived here more than nine months?"
"Sorry... just thinking out loud," Kevin says. "What other reasons could there be to dig tunnels under a city?"
Shelby ohs and flashes another quick smile. "Sewers," she says, ticking points off on her fingers. "Transport of people, or vehicles. Um, storage. Protection - I saw this door that said 'nuclear bomb shelter' and Al said it led into the tunnels. ...That's all I can think of, straight off. I suppose it depends on if they're all connected, and if they're a civic project or something smaller private corporations had a hand in."
"Bomb shelters, that's an interesting possibility," Kevin says. Then he returns to a previous subject. "You mentioned vampires... I've been hearing we have some in town, as well."
"I haven't heard much, just the word in passing," Shelby admits. "I wish we had more to go on - and I wish I knew more about the city, so I didn't feel so much like a sore thumb trying to scout on my own. But that will only come with experience, I suspect. Where would you start, if you were trying to chase down these rumors?"
Kevin gives a slight chuckle. "I'd start by pumping the Bone Gnawers and Glass Walkers. Just as you would appear to have done."
She lowers her eyes, pleased. "What's step two, then?"
"That's a good question," says Kevin, seeming at a loss. "To be honest you might be better off talking to Solsiva than to me. As for the Bone Gnawers... I wish I knew what Kaz was up to these days. I never see her any more."
Shelby just looks at him for a moment. Finally she says, "But Solsiva isn't a Fostern Ragabash. I wouldn't ask her for tips on scouting any more than I'd ask you for a judgment of a Litany violation. --I haven't seen her, or any of her pack for, oh, a couple of months, now. I think the last time I saw Chandini was at November Moot, and it's been longer since I've talked to her."
Kevin shakes his head a few times. "I don't know anyone who's seen her, and I'm starting to worry. As for Solsiva... she knows more about vampires than I do, but you didn't hear that from me, okay?"
"Why not?" Shelby'd like to know, her tone friendly. "I'm not trying to pry, but you can't just drop something like that, like it's a huge shameful secret, and not expect me to be curious."
Kevin examines his fingernails as though trying to buy time to think of an answer. "Ehhh. On the one hand I don't think she wants it talked about too much in case word gets to the wrong ears somehow. On the other hand... I don't think this kind of thing should be hushed up. Vampires are dangerous and if we have an infestation of them, the whole sept ought really to know."
The Fang drops the remains of both sandwich and coffee from her attention in order to focus it all on the man across the table. "Either you're saying you think I'm going to run down the street shouting about werewolves and vampires, or else I'm going to tell someone who will." She lets that lay there for a beat before shaking her head, that and a small smile denying any temper. "Or else, and this is more likely, you're just trying to talk yourself into sharing information with another Sept mate. Which is it, Kevin-rhya?"
Kevin waves an arm in a gesture of defeat. "Hell, am I so transparent? Yes. All right. Solsiva and her pack had a vampire held captive. They've killed it now... but apparently they think there are more of them around."
"Clear as coffee," she assures him, glancing toward his mug and back up. "How long did they... hold it?" with only a faint twitch of distaste. "I assume they had a good reason for not killing it immediately; there are at least two Fostern in that pack, aren't there? You'd think they'd want that information - about the vampires, if not the rest - out there to as many people as possible."
"You'd think so," Kevin agrees. "But equally, the fact that they /haven't/ spread the word all over suggests, to me, that they have some good reason for not doing so. I don't know what. I don't know how long they had it locked up, either."
"Mmn," says Shelby, and that's all she says for a few moments. Instead she has coffee, and frowns at what's left of her sandwich. "So how did you find out? Are you thinking of joining Fidelity?"
"Solsiva is my tribemate," explains Kevin. "We keep each other up to date. I don't think I'd fit well in Fidelity... why, are you thinking of joining them?" His eyes suddenly take on a keen air as he looks at Shelby.
Her answer is quick, a firm, "No." She softens to add, "What little I know of them, they don't seem my style. Not to mention, they're entirely city-based, and that's not where I want to spend all of my time. But if she told you about the vampires, then that might as well be spreading the news, right?"
"It might be," Kevin says, doubtfully, "but you can usually tell the difference between someone telling you something to spread around, and someone telling you something they just want you to know..."
Shelby studies him for a moment before picking up her coffee again. "Well, it's not as though either one of us is a Galliard," she observes lightly. "It's not our Gaia-given duty to blab everything we know to everyone we come across. I'm not comfortable sitting on the information about Fidelity's vampires forever, but I think I can give them until the next Moot to spread the word. When did she tell you? That would give them at least a few weeks to deal with the problem, right?"
"A few days ago," Kevin says. "It was this morning they told me she'd been offed."
Shelby ahs, and nods. "All right. I thought she told you like last month, or something. So if there isn't word after the next Moot about the vampires, I think it'll be time to tell other people. It's one thing if Fidelity has a handle on it, if there are only one or two. But this sounds like a lot of vampires, and that's dangerous."
"As cities go we've been lucky with leeches," Kevin remarks. "I can only remember one or two in the five years I've been knocking around here. Maybe they stay clear because St Claire is known to be a Garou city. But if this is a problem, I confess I don't know how to handle it."
"Go in and kill them," is Shelby's simple answer, with an equally simple lift of one shoulder. "Just like you'd do any other Wyrm creature, right? I mean, there's not some secret alternate version of the Litany that says 'Combat the Wyrm Where it Dwells and Whenever it Breeds, Unless You're Not Sure How to Handle It in Which Case It Gets a Free Pass', right?" She tacks another quick smile onto the end.
"Absolutely not," Kevin agrees. "What I mean is, leeches are supposed to be a pretty powerful bunch. But I don't know any more than that. I don't know what their weaknesses are, or where they tend to hide out, or what weapons they have at their disposal, or anything like that. Which is annoying, and worrying."
Shelby's eyes widen in mock astonishment. "You know, I think they'll take away your Fostern badge if they hear you talking like that. Are there remedial 'how to be a Glass Walker' classes you could take, or something? I thought every Walker had killed a dozen vampires by the time of their first change!"
"I'd happily have done so if there were any around to kill," growls Kevin.
The Fang tips her chin, just barely, in response to that growl. "Maybe it's Mouse-rhya's fault, for not importing enough of them," she offers placatingly. Then to utterly change the subject, "Have you really been in Saint Claire five years?"
Kevin inclines his head. "Five years in December. Why, don't you believe anyone could survive here that long?"
Shelby's answer is another of her bright smiles. "No, not at all. When I was back at Sunlit Waters K-... some of my friends said I was starting to talk funny. If I've only been out here nine months, it just made me curious what it's done to your accent. Do you think it's changed at all? Or do those people on the BBC sound funny to you these days?"
"Well, what do you think?" Kevin asks. "I've tried not to sound so overtly British it gives me away, but it's hard to get rid of every trace. It's not just accents, it's choice of words, sentence formation..."
Laughing quietly, Shelby lifts her hands and looks away, signaling 'I give up' in every non-verbal language. "I was asking you," she says when she looks back a few seconds later. "I don't think I sound any different, and I don't think I'd ever peg you as coming from New York City, like Al. She was - they were probably just trying to yank my chain. I think you sound just lovely," she adds stoutly.
Kevin chuckles wryly. "Well, I only ever got caught once," he says, "and I was expecting to be deported, but nothing ever came of it. I guess I'm not a Mexican so people don't worry."
"I'm shocked," the Fang claims, sounding anything but. "I thought you came straight from Mexico City. --Do you want a ride back into town?" she asks then, in another lightning-fast subject change. "We'd agreed to meet for lunch, but this is a little farther than we expected to go. I don't even know if there's bus service out here."
"It'd be helpful," Kevin agrees. "Nice to catch a break out here, though, I appreciate that."
Currently the moon is in the waning New (Ragabash) Moon phase (1% full).
Medina Coffees
Since falling under new management in the past year, this place has somewhat fallen into disrepair. The walls are stained, greasy. The front window has not been washed in at least three months, obscuring any view of the outdoors. There are more tables now, though few are new or in good repair. The scent of cigarette smoke hangs in the air, competing with the rich smell of various coffees.
The way to the street is on the western side of the shop. Items here may be seen by +view.
Obvious exits:
Street
Though she's better-dressed than at least 90% of the clientele, Shelby seems blissfully unaware of this fact as she returns to her seat with her coffee freshly creamed. "It's been a while since I've been out - just out, not doing anything," she admits to the other Ragabash with an appreciative glance around the room. "The last couple of weeks have been...." Whatever they've been, she doesn't finish, but offers a rueful smile across the way. "How was your New Year?"
"Quiet," Kevin says. "Stayed home, watched the celebrations on television with Casey. What's been keeping you so busy?" He sips his own coffee.
"Casey?" the teen echoes, curious, before turning her attention to her own drink. "I went out to see my grandparents in November. I guess that's not recent, but I feel like I haven't gotten back into the groove since I've been back. I went on a, hm." She takes a moment to sip, glancing around, before continuing. "A trip with some people. You know the one who's just graduated to third grade? Him."
"My cat," Kevin explains. He raises one eyebrow to the mention of the trip. "I know who you mean... I think. Go anywhere interesting? Was it, ah, a business trip?"
Kevin Lockwood is now into his twenties, and physically, he blends in pretty well with those who would outwardly seem to be his peers - he's taller than many of them, leaner than most, and perhaps a little more mature-looking than the average. As ever his face contains a long chin, large nose, heavy eyebrows and brown eyes. He's resumed his previous style of long wavy hair combined with a clean shaven face.
His clothing seems to run pretty much entirely to black. Black jeans, a black t-shirt with the CND 'peace' symbol being struck by lightning, and a smart black windcheater jacket over the top of it. Also black, though rather less expected, is the studded leather dog-collar he sports around his neck.
He's a couple of inches over six feet tall now, much of it his long legs, as ever; sometimes, particularly when sitting down, he doesn't seem to know what to do with those legs, crossing them, tucking them under himself, swinging them sideways, or a dozen other uncomfortable-seeming positions.
"Oh, I remember her now," Shelby claims with one of her quick, brilliant smiles. "How is she doing?" Further questions will have to wait, as a dull-eyed teenager bangs a tray with their sandwiches on the table and slumps off again. The Fang nudges the plate with Kevin's closer to him but waits until he's claimed it before taking her own. "It was. I got there just after we lost Kerr. Everything else went well, though. In the end."
Kevin takes the plate with his sandwich, then pauses, looking at Shelby from under lowered eyebrows. "...lost Kerr?" he says, suspiciously.
Shelby's eyes widen, her hands freezing over her plate. "You hadn't heard? Kerr's not with us anymore. I don't know what happened, but, um." Another glance around must prove there aren't many curious eyes, for the Fang curves her fingers into claws and makes a quick tear over her throat before picking up her sandwich.
Kevin looks horrified for a second or two before forcing himself into some semblance of a poker face. "Good goddamn," he mutters, picking up his own sandwich and staring at it as though his appetite has suddenly evaporated.
"Yeah," the girl agrees, and frowns down at her own lunch. "I don't know what she was doing there in the first place. Children shouldn't go on that sort of trip. They just... shouldn't." She glances up at him, offering a wan not-smile. "Thank you, by the way. You're one of the first who seemed to care. Nobody else there really did."
"No child of mine..." Kevin begins, before making an angry gesture with his hand and nearly knocking over his coffee. "Well, Silv... youknowwho... has never cared a damn about any living creature or person anyway... Who else was there?"
Shelby makes an abortive reach for that nearly-knocked-over cup, abandoning her sandwich in lieu of cradling her mug in both hands instead. "His own child, a new, um, Iago," blue eyes glance over to see if the euphemism rings a bell, "named Xander, and Jacey, of all people."
"Interesting little menagerie." Kevin stirs his coffee with somewhat unnecessary force, then licks the stirrer. So what was the end of this excursion?"
As to that, Shelby can only shrug. "We found whatever it was the main man was looking for. I wasn't really there for the end of it. I took a little nap." Lowering her voice, she adds, "I can tell you more later." Sitting back, she finally starts in on her lunch. "Oh - August asked me to ask around about some tunnels in your neck of the woods, but I heard they're on someone's personal property. Have you heard about them?"
"Please do. I want to know the full story when... circumstances permit." He leans in towards Shelby, lowers his voice a little. "Tunnels... as in the sewers, or something else?"
"That also might be something to talk about later," the younger Ragabash suggests with an apologetic grimace. "I don't know much about them, except that they're on someone's private property. I'm not sure why he asked me to look into them, except that he probably didn't know. I haven't had any luck joining a club," she adds, apropos of not much.
Kevin gets a distinct gleam in his eye at this last statement. "Maybe," he suggests, "we ought to just drink up our coffees and head someplace quieter?"
"Turn this into take out?" Shelby returns, nodding after a moment. "Yes, that sounds good. Want me to see if they have a to-go cup for you?" Her own coffee is only half-gone, but from the way she's been sipping at it, leaving the rest behind probably wouldn't be a hardship.
Kevin shakes his head, and drains the remainder of his own coffee in one long go, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "I'm good," he says when he gets his breath back. "Shall we?"
Shelby says, "Let's," and makes short work of bundling her sandwich into a napkin. A glance outside and she does take another swallow of coffee before wrapping her hands around the mug, but it's quickly back into her outer gear. As they head for the door, "Where did you have in mind? Your place? Or mine?"
"I hadn't gotten that far," confesses Kevin. "Either as long as they're safe."
"Yours is closer," Shelby notes. "But I've got my car so really, whichever you'd prefer."
"Yours is quieter," points out Kevin. "One of these days I must try and get a car myself..."
She tilts a smile up at him before heading for her car with a nod. "My place, then." Once they're both buckled in she makes for Kent Crossing, a more cautious driver than one might expect of an eighteen-year-old. Less than thirty minutes after leaving the coffee shop the pair walk into Zosia's country house, and Shelby, after hanging up her coat and slipping out of shoes, heads back for the kitchen. "Zosia's probably out patrolling."
Country House
Kevin follows Shelby into the kitchen. "Nice place, this. Makes my little apartment look like the broom closet it is."
Waving him to the table, Shelby sets the coffee pot brewing and fetches down a pair of plates. "It's all Zosia's. I've thought about moving out, but honestly, I'd be lucky if I could afford even a broom closet. So I keep my nose clean. It used to be a lot more crowded, but then Claude and August essentially moved onto the bawn."
"All right," Kevin says, taking a deep breath. "So Silvertip managed to get Kerr killed, right? I am understanding this correctly?"
Plates in hand and frown on face, Shelby returns to the table. "...I'm not sure," she says finally, unhappily. "Maybe? Here, let me tell you what I know from the beginning." As the coffee drips in the background, she briskly goes over the event: hearing Silvertip's call to fight a bane. When she and Jacey arrived Silvertip, his cub Elk-Tail, and the new Shadow Lord Xander were there, as well as Kerr's body and the corpse of a metallic bear. How the Adren had her and Elk-Tail take the cub's body to the Sept Compound. She pauses there, looking grim.
"And she's still there now?" Kevin asks, looking grim. "Jesus. What the hell is KL doing about all this?"
"I don't know," Shelby admits, busying her hands with unwrapping her sandwich and placing it just so on her plate, then taking the napkin across the room to dispose of it in recycling. "That's not all, though. After it got dark, we went across the gauntlet. Little Silvertip-rhya must have summoned the bane, or something. He told us to use hit and run tactics, but I don't know that it did much of any good. I think Xander frenzied, but then I got hit by flames and I started to crystallize. I think. When they got me out it was like I couldn't even lift my feet, I was so tired."
"This really isn't good," Kevin says in a low tone. "I knew that things had been quiet in the sept too long..."
"They're not really quiet, though," the girl points out as she slides back into her chair. "It's all there, just simmering away." She picks up her sandwich, but before taking a bite she adds, "Did you know that he apparently has a totem spirit? Little Silvertip, I mean, not the theurge."
"Does he," Kevin says with a jaundiced air. "And what exactly is he doing with it?"
Shelby says, "Asking it for help and healing," as though that were the obvious thing to do with one. After chewing and swallowing she adds, "It's a bear. --I never got a scratch on me," she adds, sounding slightly vexed. "It doesn't seem fair, me walking away unharmed and that happening to Kerr."
"Survivor's guilt," Kevin diagnoses. "Had that myself plenty of times... You must try not to let it get to you. Sometimes, you have to just accept that you got lucky and someone else drew the short straw."
Shelby nods, unhappy but resigned. "I know. It's not like I could have done anything about it - I wasn't even there." She offers over the same sort of smile. "But anyway, those tunnels. Like I said, August-rhya asked me to look into them, but asking around, it sounds like they're all on Fidelity territory? I wouldn't feel right, pushing in there. I figure if they want any help, they'll ask for it themselves, right?"
"Well, I guess so," Kevin says. "I don't know anything about these tunnels, if they aren't part of the sewers I had to go scouting around for my Fostern challenge last year. Are they some kind of different network?"
Shelby has to shrug again. "I really don't know, Kevin-rhya. All I know is what I've told you. There are some tunnels, Solsiva and Jacey were scouting them, but I talked to Jacey and the tunnels are on Fidelity's territory. If your tunnels - sewers - were on their territory too, then they might be the same. But your guess is as good as mine." Another pause and she adds, "He also mentioned vampires, but I don't know if that's fact, or if he's just assuming."
"Well, what other point could a bunch of tunnels below the city serve?" asks Kevin. "There's never been a subway in St Claire that I know of, has there?"
The girl with Virginia in her voice merely blinks at him. "I'm sure I wouldn't know," she says after a moment, perfectly polite. "Wouldn't that be a better question for someone who's lived here more than nine months?"
"Sorry... just thinking out loud," Kevin says. "What other reasons could there be to dig tunnels under a city?"
Shelby ohs and flashes another quick smile. "Sewers," she says, ticking points off on her fingers. "Transport of people, or vehicles. Um, storage. Protection - I saw this door that said 'nuclear bomb shelter' and Al said it led into the tunnels. ...That's all I can think of, straight off. I suppose it depends on if they're all connected, and if they're a civic project or something smaller private corporations had a hand in."
"Bomb shelters, that's an interesting possibility," Kevin says. Then he returns to a previous subject. "You mentioned vampires... I've been hearing we have some in town, as well."
"I haven't heard much, just the word in passing," Shelby admits. "I wish we had more to go on - and I wish I knew more about the city, so I didn't feel so much like a sore thumb trying to scout on my own. But that will only come with experience, I suspect. Where would you start, if you were trying to chase down these rumors?"
Kevin gives a slight chuckle. "I'd start by pumping the Bone Gnawers and Glass Walkers. Just as you would appear to have done."
She lowers her eyes, pleased. "What's step two, then?"
"That's a good question," says Kevin, seeming at a loss. "To be honest you might be better off talking to Solsiva than to me. As for the Bone Gnawers... I wish I knew what Kaz was up to these days. I never see her any more."
Shelby just looks at him for a moment. Finally she says, "But Solsiva isn't a Fostern Ragabash. I wouldn't ask her for tips on scouting any more than I'd ask you for a judgment of a Litany violation. --I haven't seen her, or any of her pack for, oh, a couple of months, now. I think the last time I saw Chandini was at November Moot, and it's been longer since I've talked to her."
Kevin shakes his head a few times. "I don't know anyone who's seen her, and I'm starting to worry. As for Solsiva... she knows more about vampires than I do, but you didn't hear that from me, okay?"
"Why not?" Shelby'd like to know, her tone friendly. "I'm not trying to pry, but you can't just drop something like that, like it's a huge shameful secret, and not expect me to be curious."
Kevin examines his fingernails as though trying to buy time to think of an answer. "Ehhh. On the one hand I don't think she wants it talked about too much in case word gets to the wrong ears somehow. On the other hand... I don't think this kind of thing should be hushed up. Vampires are dangerous and if we have an infestation of them, the whole sept ought really to know."
The Fang drops the remains of both sandwich and coffee from her attention in order to focus it all on the man across the table. "Either you're saying you think I'm going to run down the street shouting about werewolves and vampires, or else I'm going to tell someone who will." She lets that lay there for a beat before shaking her head, that and a small smile denying any temper. "Or else, and this is more likely, you're just trying to talk yourself into sharing information with another Sept mate. Which is it, Kevin-rhya?"
Kevin waves an arm in a gesture of defeat. "Hell, am I so transparent? Yes. All right. Solsiva and her pack had a vampire held captive. They've killed it now... but apparently they think there are more of them around."
"Clear as coffee," she assures him, glancing toward his mug and back up. "How long did they... hold it?" with only a faint twitch of distaste. "I assume they had a good reason for not killing it immediately; there are at least two Fostern in that pack, aren't there? You'd think they'd want that information - about the vampires, if not the rest - out there to as many people as possible."
"You'd think so," Kevin agrees. "But equally, the fact that they /haven't/ spread the word all over suggests, to me, that they have some good reason for not doing so. I don't know what. I don't know how long they had it locked up, either."
"Mmn," says Shelby, and that's all she says for a few moments. Instead she has coffee, and frowns at what's left of her sandwich. "So how did you find out? Are you thinking of joining Fidelity?"
"Solsiva is my tribemate," explains Kevin. "We keep each other up to date. I don't think I'd fit well in Fidelity... why, are you thinking of joining them?" His eyes suddenly take on a keen air as he looks at Shelby.
Her answer is quick, a firm, "No." She softens to add, "What little I know of them, they don't seem my style. Not to mention, they're entirely city-based, and that's not where I want to spend all of my time. But if she told you about the vampires, then that might as well be spreading the news, right?"
"It might be," Kevin says, doubtfully, "but you can usually tell the difference between someone telling you something to spread around, and someone telling you something they just want you to know..."
Shelby studies him for a moment before picking up her coffee again. "Well, it's not as though either one of us is a Galliard," she observes lightly. "It's not our Gaia-given duty to blab everything we know to everyone we come across. I'm not comfortable sitting on the information about Fidelity's vampires forever, but I think I can give them until the next Moot to spread the word. When did she tell you? That would give them at least a few weeks to deal with the problem, right?"
"A few days ago," Kevin says. "It was this morning they told me she'd been offed."
Shelby ahs, and nods. "All right. I thought she told you like last month, or something. So if there isn't word after the next Moot about the vampires, I think it'll be time to tell other people. It's one thing if Fidelity has a handle on it, if there are only one or two. But this sounds like a lot of vampires, and that's dangerous."
"As cities go we've been lucky with leeches," Kevin remarks. "I can only remember one or two in the five years I've been knocking around here. Maybe they stay clear because St Claire is known to be a Garou city. But if this is a problem, I confess I don't know how to handle it."
"Go in and kill them," is Shelby's simple answer, with an equally simple lift of one shoulder. "Just like you'd do any other Wyrm creature, right? I mean, there's not some secret alternate version of the Litany that says 'Combat the Wyrm Where it Dwells and Whenever it Breeds, Unless You're Not Sure How to Handle It in Which Case It Gets a Free Pass', right?" She tacks another quick smile onto the end.
"Absolutely not," Kevin agrees. "What I mean is, leeches are supposed to be a pretty powerful bunch. But I don't know any more than that. I don't know what their weaknesses are, or where they tend to hide out, or what weapons they have at their disposal, or anything like that. Which is annoying, and worrying."
Shelby's eyes widen in mock astonishment. "You know, I think they'll take away your Fostern badge if they hear you talking like that. Are there remedial 'how to be a Glass Walker' classes you could take, or something? I thought every Walker had killed a dozen vampires by the time of their first change!"
"I'd happily have done so if there were any around to kill," growls Kevin.
The Fang tips her chin, just barely, in response to that growl. "Maybe it's Mouse-rhya's fault, for not importing enough of them," she offers placatingly. Then to utterly change the subject, "Have you really been in Saint Claire five years?"
Kevin inclines his head. "Five years in December. Why, don't you believe anyone could survive here that long?"
Shelby's answer is another of her bright smiles. "No, not at all. When I was back at Sunlit Waters K-... some of my friends said I was starting to talk funny. If I've only been out here nine months, it just made me curious what it's done to your accent. Do you think it's changed at all? Or do those people on the BBC sound funny to you these days?"
"Well, what do you think?" Kevin asks. "I've tried not to sound so overtly British it gives me away, but it's hard to get rid of every trace. It's not just accents, it's choice of words, sentence formation..."
Laughing quietly, Shelby lifts her hands and looks away, signaling 'I give up' in every non-verbal language. "I was asking you," she says when she looks back a few seconds later. "I don't think I sound any different, and I don't think I'd ever peg you as coming from New York City, like Al. She was - they were probably just trying to yank my chain. I think you sound just lovely," she adds stoutly.
Kevin chuckles wryly. "Well, I only ever got caught once," he says, "and I was expecting to be deported, but nothing ever came of it. I guess I'm not a Mexican so people don't worry."
"I'm shocked," the Fang claims, sounding anything but. "I thought you came straight from Mexico City. --Do you want a ride back into town?" she asks then, in another lightning-fast subject change. "We'd agreed to meet for lunch, but this is a little farther than we expected to go. I don't even know if there's bus service out here."
"It'd be helpful," Kevin agrees. "Nice to catch a break out here, though, I appreciate that."