Time/Date :It is currently 08:02 Pacific Time on Mon Dec 17 2007

Place : Harbor Park -- The Meadow(#194RJ)

Weather :Currently in Saint Claire, it is raining lightly. The temperature is 39 degrees Fahrenheit (3 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southwest at 10 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.71 and rising, and the relative humidity is 92 percent. The dewpoint is 37 degrees Fahrenheit (2 degrees Celsius.)

Moon Phase :Currently the moon is in the waxing Half Moon phase (53% full).

Harbor Park -- The Meadow(#194RJ)

One of the last bastions of green left in the city, mottled and withered grass and weeds covers the earth like a badly stained carpet, with the construction work turning what is left into just bare dirt. The vegetation seems marginally healthier the further it is from the river and much healthier towards the central area of the park around the fountain. Construction work is ongoing here: a raised earthen berm about five feet tall is being built all around the park perimeter, with two breaks each at the Bridge Street entrance and the First Street end. Wooden posts are being erected at regular intervals all along the earthen wall, while tasteful iron gates and fences are being added at the entrances. Overpowering the scent of living vegetation are the exhaust fumes from a busy street to the west and an unpleasant stench from the Columbia River to the east. From the street view or river view, the park is now isolated, as if it existed apart from the city. People in tall buildings have an excellent view of any goings-ons for now, though. In the center of the park, a small glade of six tall trees and a flower bed surrounds the fountain.
The murky waters of the Columbia River flow swiftly along the east side of the park. Bracketing the park to the west is First Street and the city of St. Claire.


Most noticeably of Hispanic-decent, Andreas is a slender, roughish and perhaps even dashingly handsome man. His dark hair is shaved closely to his scalp. A five o'clock shadow often looms over his face. The irises of his eyes are dark. His nose is long and broad which arrive to lush, full lips. His built is fairly average, showing a mixture of muscle and natural-looking body fat. There is often the smell of spicy-smelling aftershave or cheap cologne that rises faintly from his clothing. He is often found wearing a pair of khaki-colored Dockers with a fitted tee-shirt. On his head is regularly a baseball-cap and on his feet a pair of tennis shoes. Around his neck hangs a rosary.


Sometime over the last couple of years, a teen girl with a poor attitude and a hair-trigger temper has grown up, and matured into a young woman. With a poor attitude and a hair-trigger temper. KL is a little over five-foot tall - no late growth spurt for her - and slimly built. She moves quickly, and is rarely still for any length of time. Her natural balance and co-ordination are clearly evident in her movement, but any hint of grace is smothered with her air of irritation, hostility and restrained aggression. She manages to turn even simple activities - like ordering fries - into not particularly subtle attempts to provoke fights.
Her mousy-brown hair hangs loose around her shoulders, the front falling to frame her face. Her hair looks like it has been cut recently, and by someone with at least a little skill. She's really quite attractive, perhaps not a pin-up, but far from ugly, with a cute upturned nose and wide expressive hazelnut eyes. However, any level of appeal her physical appearance might have is swamped by the anger in her gaze and the sullen set of her mouth. She stares at people - particularly people she doesn't know - with a cold fury, as if trying to decide exactly which way to kill them.
KL has pale skin decorated in two places - on her left upper arm is a largish tattoo of something that looks a little like a bear, with its jaws spread wide and slaver falling in droplets. It has the words "No Mercy" written with gusto beneath it. On her right shoulder-blade, if visible, is a second tattoo, two-inch-square, of a winged horse. There isn't much in the way of excess flesh on her, her cheekbones are clearly visible and her bare arms have a tight musculature that speaks of regular and plentiful exercise.
She is wearing a white T-Shirt and a pair of white cycling shorts, white sports socks and a pair of white trainers. All of the clothes look new, or at least very well cared for. There's a large bandage wrapped around her right calf.
Around her neck hangs a pendant, an oval disk made of some kind of bone. It looks like it's been decorated with carved designs, which are somewhat hard to make out on casual inspection. The pendant is hung on a leather thong.


Standing 5'5 and with a lean physique, Brook carries herself like someone who knows she is armed. Her hair is long, dark and wavy- hanging well past shoulder length. Her light green eyes dance with a bold mischief that is almost fae like, and her smile is full of confidence. She moves with a steady, sure gait, but not one that is overly rigid or strict; she's fluid, and graceful, but with a strength about her as well. One suprising thing about this woman, is that despite a body and appearance that is fully feminine, her hands are strong and callused, the kind that speak of hard physical work.
She dresses in form fitting casual attire. Jeans, tank tops, leather jackets, boots and the like. While the clothes work to show off her form, they do not limit or overly inhibit her motions or actions. She also wears a bronze pendant that is in the shape of a crescent moon.

The weather is holding out again today, and the temperature has climbed into the high forties. The sun is out too, making it a perfect day for taking the car out. Brooke has the old Chevelle, ('71 and mint) parked at the city park's edge. She's sitting on the bench there, sipping a cup of black coffee.

Jog-jog-jog. KL's trainered feet strike the path surface in a regular beat. Her hair is tied neatly back into plait, and the red on her cheeks says that she's been running quite hard, for some time. She's almost past Brooke before the kin's ppearance registers, and she slams to a halt. "Hi," she pants, eventually.

Another vehicle enters the parking lot of the park, a 2008 Grabber Orange/Performance White Shelby GT 500. There are several bumperstickers written in Spanish plastered in the tinted windows. The Shelby pulls around and enters the parking spot next to the Chevelle. The driver lowers the window, revealing the driver to be Andreas. "Hey," he calls out to KL, although could be mistaken for Brooke as well.

Brooke looks up at the Fury as she arrives. "Hi KL." A bright grin accompanies the greeting, but it's turned when another car pulls up. An eyebrow lifts and she studies the car intently, almost like an experienced gambler perusing horses at the track. When it lands on the bumper stickers, the look sours, and the Hey from him gets a more stifled, "Hey yourself."

KL looks over her shoulder at the "hey", and her eyebrows shoot up. "Dre!" she exclaims, and takes a step to turn...then looks back over her shoulder at Brooke, and freezes for a couple of seconds, before completing the turn and heading towards the driver's window of the car. "How are you? Come and meet a *friend*." Odd emphasis on the word *friend* there.

Dre is a roughly handsome man, noticeably Hispanic with a touch of Greek in a few of his features. "I was just on my lunch break," the man replies to Kl as he pulls his keys out of the engine and steps out of the Mustang. The man is dressed in a pair of paint slpattered jeans and a tee-shirt. "Sorry about my appearance," he mutters with a blush. He leans into the Garou briefly and gives her a friendly kiss on the cheek. "Your friend?" he asks.

Brooke watches this all go down with a curious hitch to her features. Then it's as if the lightbulb goes on, and a big shit-eating grin replaces that curiosity.

KL grabs Dre's arm, and assuming he doesn't resist, leads him to the bench on which Brooke is sitting. "Dre, this is Brooke," she introduces. "Brooke's kind of related to Cole. I guess their whole family comes from *IRELAND* or somewhere else British," she explains, as subtle as a brick. "Brooke, this is Dre. He's Mel's brother and he's very nice."

"I don't know any Cole," Dre replies, "but I know what you're talking about." He gives a glance over at Brooke, winking and stretching out his hand towards her. "Nice to meet you." Then, in clarification, "Melodie's half-brother, actually."

Brooke doesn't stand up as the hand is offered, but does reach out to shake it. "Shelby's nice. Glad that at least someone's going back to the old muscle car look. Though, you'd not stand a chance against me on the line." The girl has rough hands that speak of constant physical labor. "Melodie's a good kid."

"You both have really nice cars," KL says. "Even if I shouldn't like them because, you know - world destroying stuff." She smiles, though there's a hint of nerves in her smile. "And Mel's great. If...a bit pink occasionally."

Dre raises his brow at Brooke. "It's not just about the car, it's the way you drive it." he answers in a deadpan voice. "Anyway, I just swung by since I saw you." he mentions to the Black Fury. "I have a have a house that I need to have flipped by the first, or I am going to start loosing money on the deal."

Nicodemus wanders into the meadow, coming from the fountain where he'd been busy flipping pennies into the pool, then staring at it. He shuffles forward with a contemplative walk of a person who's not in any particular hurry. His left hand is in a pocket. His right hand is tucked beneath his jacket to keep exposed flesh out of the cold air--as much as is possible with the limited mobility of having his right arm in a cast and sling.

Brooke chuckles, "Dunno how old you are kid, but I can promise you I've been driving a lot longer than you have, and I know how to handle her. I know how to drive her, and I know her on the inside too. Personally." One might wonder for a moment if she's still talking about the car, or about one of the Fury's that were brought up or present.

KL nods, slowly. "Um... sorry, new at this. Is that a polite way of saying "I have to go", or "I don't want to see you ever again."?" She pushes on the word "see" a little bit. She glances at Brooke, and then again at Dre. "Hey! I'm supposed to be the hyper-competitive fight-picking one!"

The Black Fury kin shakes his head at Brooke. Then, looking over to the Ahroun, he appears a little surprised. "Que?" he questions with a puzzled expression. "I'd love to see you again," Andreas says to KL. "Plus, Mel won't leave me alone unless I take you out on another date." He glances at his watch, muttering, "I have to go."

Nicodemus' path, unintentionally or otherwise, appears as if it will eventually pass close by the group gathered in the meadows, though he's still a couple hundred feet away.

Brooke grins at KL, "Ain't picking a fight, just defending the fact that a woman can drive better than he can. No harm there." She chuckles, "Nice meeting you Dre, I'm sure I'll see you around. Hard to miss the stickers."

"Oh, cool!" KL says, in response to Dre's assertion of their future-date likelihood. She takes his arm again, and bounces up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Be off with you. Go fix house!"

"I am proud of my heritage," Andreas replies to Brooke. "And... if you didn't tell me your are of the Stag's Children, I would have pinned you as one of our own." He turns just in time to be kissed on the cheek by KL. "Thanks," he replies and gives her a farewell kiss. The kin then releases her and starts off for his Shelby parked in the lot.

As Nick draws within about 50 feet of the group, after Dre has made it to his car, he notices Brooke, nods, and greets with a "Hey." KL gets a quick glancing over in the process.


A thin, wiry, and moderately attractive young man in his mid twenties, Nicodemus is a little bit on the short side at about 5'6". He has brown eyes and his (dyed?) black hair is cropped short in a non-nonsense 1950s style business-like crewcut.
Nicodemus is currently wearing a relaxed fit pair of faded black jeans, held up by a belt, and a charcoal button down shirt is neatly tucked into his pants. They're the kind of clothes that you buy looking worn as opposed to the clothes that actually are worn. A light, unzipped fleece hoodie adds some extra insulation over the thin shirt, and the hood is down. Puma sneakers shod his feet. It's sort of an urban-preppie-grunge look.
Strike that. Make that an injured urban-preppie-grunge look. His right forearm is currently in a cast and sling. The cast is covered with various signatures and occasional vulgarities or crude sketches.
A pair of necklaces on thin silver chains hang about his neck. One bears a simple silver cross. The second, if it bears a pendant, is obscured beneath his shirt. There's a faint scent of fine incense that lingers about him, like a unique, subtle cologne. The exceptionally perceptive might notice a slight, unusual bulge on the inside of his right leg near his ankle.

Brooke watches the two interact and then grins, "That's him huh? Interesting." She might have been ready to say more, but the approach of another catches her sights. She smiles more keenly at this one, "Hey Mr. Nick. You throwing pennies again?"

KL nods slowly, looking at Nick curiously. She folds her arms across her chest, and hardens her gaze. "Yeah, that's him," the Fury says, not taking her eyes off her target for a second. "Who's this?" Flat. Unpleasant verging on actively hostile.

Nicodemus diverts his path slightly to divert himself towards the two others present, though his step falters upon KL's comment and tone. "Uh. Yeah. Was." He stops a good ten or fifteen feet away, motioning towards the parking lot with his thumb. "I'll just be going then." He clearly got the 'not welcome' message KL was broadcasting.

Brooke gives the Fury a glare, "You have your friends sweetheart, I have mine." She stands up to close some of the distance with Nicodemus, "This is Nick, and he's got a good eye for cars. Met him the other day." The kin gives the man a wide smile. "Haven't ya ever heard of that saying about a penny saved?"

The Fury Ahroun drops the intensity down from seven to more like three, unfolding her arms and following the Fianna kin towards Nick. "Good eye for cars?" she asks Brooke, smiling, before looking back at the man. "You complimented hers, right? Hi."

Nicodemus looks as if he might still call it quits, but then takes a single step closer to the pair as Brooke moves over in his direction. "Yes, but if each penny in a pool is a wish, then wishes are more valuable than accrued interest at two percent at the bank." He gives KL a second looking over, a little more attention going to the short and aggressive woman on his repeat examination--attention paid to visual and verbal ques this time around. "Guilty. I complimented her car and restoration skills in one fell swoop. I fed the beast, didn't I?" He waits to see if that disarms KL any.

Brooke grins at Nicodemus first, then gives the Fury a shove. "Better to get complimented, then told I can't drive. Nic, this is KL, friend of mine. KL, Nic."

KL thaws some more, much of the tension running out of her muscles, though there's still a slightly guarded air to her. "I think you did," she says to Nick, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile. As she's shoved by Brooke, she laughs, and bats a weak blow back at the kin. "Hi," she says, again, once her balance is restored, this time far more genuine. "So, um... what d'ya do?"

"Pride: one of the seven deadlies," Nick mockingly warns Brooke, clearly not serious in the least. He offers his hand to KL. "I'll try not to feed her in the future. Detective Nick Dalton. I work homicides for the city."

"Don't feed the tiger huh? Pity, I purr nicely." Brooke smiles between the two, landing on KL lastly. "So behave around him, yeah?"

The Fury's eyes go wide, and there's a noticeable moment where it looks like she might want to run for the hills, but she slowly gets a grip on herself, and then a grip on his hand as she shakes it firmly. "Yes, ma'am," she breathes. "Pleased to meet you," she says, warily. "I'm a waster trust-fund child by profession. And a sometime athlete." A hand gestures to her running outfit.

Nicodemus shakes, then releases KL's hand. "Wow, you rarely have anyone actually admit to having life made easy with a trust fund. You usually get this 'oh, I'm doing something to validate myself' excuse. The honest approach is a little refreshing," he adds--not judging, simply making note of the unusualness of it." He points a finger at Brooke. "Oh, I think Quentin would have issues with other people feeding the tiger. Certainly he would if he had any sense," he adds to the compliment with a grin.

Brooke smiles at Nicodemus, "He's not allowed to have issue with it. But for your sake I'll not press it." She looks to KL with another raised brow, "Learn something new everyday don't ya?"

KL looks back at Brooke with an ingenous expression. "You sure do," she says, pushing a stray hair back behind her ear. She looks back at Nick. "Oh, I try and do other stuff with my life, you know, sort of charity things, but fundamentally I spend my father's money." She links her fingers together behind her back, and stretches her back, lifting her arms up high. "And, by the way, today is christmas shopping for the family. Sort of."

"Good day for it. I tried to do a little over the weekend and just threw in the towel. Went home and ordered everything off the internet. Click, click, click, click, click. Second day shipping. And done." Nick shakes his head. "I really hate the holiday. It's so commercial. Now hallowe'en: there's a holiday. But even that one seems to be slowly dying."

Brooke looks between the two and chuckles, "Speaking of Shopping, I need to get back to mine. Good seeing you Nick, and KL, I'm gonna want the juicy details later." She moves to her car then, grinning widely, and gets in to the Chevelle.

KL watches the kin women leaving, a slightly wistful expression on her face, then looks back to Nick. "Yeah, I'm not big on computers- far too we...weally difficult to use. For me." A shrug. "Besides, you can't see the things you're buying." She glances around. "I guess I should be off too. Before I freeze in place. This outfit's fine for running, but standing? Less so."

Nicodemus nods in understanding, being a little lightly dressed for the weather himself. "Yeah, I've been out in this too long as well. Nice meeting you. Hope whatever was bugging you earlier turns out okay."

"I do too," KL says, with a little shrug and an even littler wave, turning away from Nick and setting off jogging. "See ya!" she calls back over her shoulder, flashing a grin before concentrating on where she's going.

"Later," Nicodemus says as he heads back towards his car in the parking lot.

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