Regan Avenue West, Downtown

For two or three blocks, between Thirteenth and Fifteenth Streets, red-brick apartment buildings alternate with the occasional small, struggling side garden or a small business. A pizza parlor decorates the corner of one intersection, and a relatively prosperous deli takes up space at another. Along one street, a fire station interrupts the other buildings, small but obviously in good condition from frequent need. Graffiti shows on sidewalks and on a few of the buildings, but is not prevalent. The road has been paved sometime within the last few years, to judge by the lack of potholes.

Obvious exits:

Regan Avenue McDonald's Fire Station Alley North South

At first glimpse a person might not see the worn pair of boots sticking up from the dumpster beside the McDonald's. What someone might notice is the large satchel stashed in the corner beside the dumpster itself and then the legs growing as a figure of a boy climbs up out of the dumpster. He holds in his hand half of a sandwich and smells at it, a revolting look comes over his face and he then swallows and takes a bite, hunger seizing forth and he wolfs down the burger with fervor. A hand goes to his stomach and he sits down next to the wall, pulling his satchel close.

Signe is not fond of being on the streets during such a full moon, and it shows this afternoon as much as any other. Her shoulders are tense and her scowl is deeper than normal as she walks down the west side of 14th. On either side of her is Emma and Nat. Both packmates aren't exactly sure why they left the comfortable confines of the Brownstone, either, and they hang back a little as the Fostern Get stalks down the street. Those unfortunate souls that find themselves on the sidewalk coming in the opposite direction have a tendency to jaywalk just to get away from her. Eventually, the Get does the same thing, veering across the road to head towards McDonald's. Even she doesn't seem sure why, yet.

Emma keeps her hands in her pocket, offering Natalie a shrug now and then. A soft whisper escapes her towards her packmate, but she mostly just follows the lead of her alpha.

Dillen leans against the wall of the McDonalds. His head hung low and the hair falling into his eyes. He makes a great sigh and then looks up, taking in the people walking past and the world in general. His hand slips into the strap of his satchel, must like the kind people have in the army, and he stands. A hand still holds at his stomach as she starts to walk down the road, back to the park where he's been sleeping as of late. He's young, maybe early to mid teens, but the boy blends in, like one of those people you just don't see even though they are right in front of you.

Emma whispers "Don't ask me why she insists on being out here, when the street itself seems to want to avoid her... I think it jus' pisses her off more."

Natalie snorts back at the young Ahroun, amused, and mutters something. She's got her hands stuck into the pockets of her jeans, her elbows flaring wide as if daring someone to run into one. She doesn't exactly stalk like Signe but keeps her position just behind and to Signe's right.

You whisper "Think of it this way: least there isn't a crowd to push through." to Emma.

Signe sure didn't see him. At least, not at first. Then, all of a sudden it seems, she stops in her tracks. The kid is walking away from her -- south -- but she seems to be narrowing her eyes on something just to his side. At least, the perceptive of her two friends might see that. "Shit," she says with a sigh. Digging into the front pocket of her jeans, she hands a few dollars to Emma. "Do me a favor, Em? Go buy a couplea big macs or something? Then meet us down the street." After nodding to the younger ahroun, she nudges Natalie to follow her.

Emma huhs as she takes the money, "Uh alright. Something wrong?" She looks to Natalie, shrugging. "Nevermind, I'll just go..." she lets out a sigh and heads to the McD's.

Something blowing in the wind attracts the boy's eye and he goes after it. What finally falls is a dollar bill which he snaps up the bill and pockets it quickly, looking about to see if anybody had lost one. When he sees he is in the clear Dillen continues on his way down the street.

Natalie takes a couple of minutes to spot the boy; when she does his back's graced first with lowered brows that then pop up in surprise, especially when he stoops for the cash. "...Must be one of yours?" she guesses as she comes up beside her alpha. "Can't see you getting hot and bothered over one of theirs." The 'theirs' is punctuated by a head jerk off toward the east, and the zoo. "How you want to play this?"

Signe gives Emma one of those 'I'll explain later what isn't immediately obvious' kind of looks before turning back to Natalie. She nods in response to the galliard, adding, in a real soft whisper, "The black wolf following him around isn't anything I'd expect the zookeepers to use as a guardian, either, no. He's one of ours." To answer the Walker's question, she simply nudges her to follow again and trotts to catch up with the walking kid. His southerly sojourn takes him just north of the Regan avenue crossing, where -- if he's still headed to the Park -- will be where he turns east. There's an alley between the last two buildings, though, and it's there that Signe catches up with him. "Hey!" she calls, just to get his attention.

Giving a look up and down the street at the 'hey' and seeing that he's the only one possible it was meant for, Dillen cocks his head to the side. "Damn." He says quietly and begins fishing the bill out of his pocket. "Look, okay. It was blowing in the wind. How the hell was I supposed to know it was yours. Here." As he holds it out, but keeps his head down, not looking up to catch the eyes of the woman.

Long brown hair hides most of the anger in Dillen's eyes. A loner by choice his attire is often just whatever his hand hit that morning. A pair of worn jeans, a pair of black boots, white t-shirt and leather jacket with flames coming up the sleeves. Several wraps of leather come close up to his neck, on which is a small jade wolf. Grey eyes that are just about clear are the only really stunning thing about him. There is hardly ever a smile about the boy and most often the air is quite depressive.

Signe casually--or as casually as she can--rests her hands on her hips as she studies the boy. "I don't want the money," she says, shaking her head. "What's your name? What are you doing on my street?"

Natalie casually skirts the pair, dropping out into the street as if she were in truth merely walking near Signe and not with. The Walker takes up a spot at about two o'clock (with Signe at six): far enough from the boy not to immediately startle him, but close enough so that if he turns, he'll have to step wide to avoid him.

His brow raises. Dillen gives a bit of a scoff, "What business of it is yours? And I don't seem to remember seeing a picture saying this was your street." The bill is shoved back into his pocket as he turns to face full into Natalie, "Show's over. Go home." and he continues down the street, stepping past Natalie and moving further down the street.

Signe gives Natalie a single look and jerks her head towards the alley. The message is clear to the packmate, and in her position, before he can get fully around her, she should have ample time to shove the scrawny kid into the alley.

Natalie drops Signe a single nod. She twists as if to let Dillen pass, then brings her foot forward, continuing the move by pushing at his far shoulder with her right arm. Nor is she about to let up the pressure: with her arm blocking his escape she moves inexorably forward, shoving him into the alley without a single word.

Emma comes down the street at about this time, two bags filled with Big Macs and Quarter Pounders. Unsure of what is going on, she moves with a bit more than casual alertness, eyes peeled for trouble.

"The fuck?" Dillen turns around in Natalie's arms, "Get off me bitch." As he pushes at her arms, trying to get her away from him. "I ain't got nothing. Nothing." He protests, swinging his arm around and fighting back. Still, the boy's strength is way down from lack of food and it is not much.

Signe looks down and back up the street, making sure anyone that would object doesn't. When she looks back north, she sees Emma and gestures for the other Get to join them in the alley. Then she joins her packmate and the cub in the alley. "Just shut the fuck up, kid," she says. "and maybe you won't get hurt."

"Promises, promises," Nat retorts, not letting up the pressure. She doesn't try to avoid the boy's pathetic attacks but concentrates on keeping him from escaping and getting him well into the empty alley. "Trust me, sweetie, this isn't about your looks."

Natalie adds, "Or the money."

Dillen's feet now carry him backwards, eyes wide and looking at Signe. "Please, look. I really don't have anything. Just, just my books." He looks between the two, and then the three. "All right. fine. Have it your way." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a switchblade which opens with a snickt. "Fine. You want my shit. Take it." His eyes alive with fire as he looks between the group, daring them. Deep down, scared to death and that shows as well as his breath is hard and fast.

Emma blinks and comes more rushed towards the others, bags still in hand. She comes up halfway to the others, frowning and looking very intently upon the boy. "Unless ya all need anything, I'll just stay put here."

Signe smirks as the knife comes out. One would expect at least a wariness of the blade, but the Get simply walks up to the kid and offers her hand or her arm to the knife Dillen holds. "Go on. Stick me," she tells him. It's not a dare, either. It's an order.

Normal women - hell, normal people - just aren't supposed to grin like that in the face of knives. Signe does it, and now so does Natalie, who falls back as Signe approaches. "Stay there," she tosses over her shoulder to Emma, likewise backing up to a spot roughly halfway between Dillen and Emma.

His breath comes faster than ever as Signe walks closer. Dillen's eyes look up to her and his hand flashes, bringing the knife down her arm in a slashing motion. "There. Now go on." He backs down the alleyway a little more, eyes looking at the wound on Signe's arm. His eyes wild as he watches Natalie move as well. The young boy, tough as he may believe he is... Is scared to death.

Signe doesn't flinch, doesn't move out of the way. In an eerie and uncomfortable way she watches the blade cut her open without even apparently feeling it. Holding her arm up, she lets the blood run down and off to pool on the broken asphalt of the alleyway. He definitely did a good enough job cutting her. Now the ahroun trusts her packmates to keep an eye on the alleyway while she slips up to glabro. The wound disappears in almost no time at all. And now, Dillen has a feral, very scary, very large Signe grinning toothily at him.

Natalie continues to watch the boy, watching for those little twitchy movements that mean he's going to break.

The boy stops breathing for a moment. His eyes wide, looking over the newest visage before him. "Holy fuck. What are you?" As his legs fail him and he falls to the alley floor. "Get the fuck away from me!" The boy begins crawling, like a crab, eyes still on Signe. He looks to the other two. "Just gonna let... IT... kill me?" Then the pain hits him, full in the gut. He flips over, clutching at his stomach. He gasps for air a few moments and then looks up, eyes glowing red. "Get away." Voice dropping in pitch.

Emma continues to watch around the alley, reaching in and pulling a burger out while she waits. "She won't. If ya stop freaking out." The young Ahroun seems to relax now that she knows what is going on.

"He's gonna blow." Leave it to the Galliard to point out the obvious. "Emma, you wanna check and make sure no one's coming?" She does the same with a quick backwards glance, then steps to the middle of the alley, hands fisting loosely.

Signe echoes Emma's comment, grating out of her glabro throat, "I'm not gonna hurt you, stupid." She does not, however, take her eyes off the cub. Her hand reaches blindly behind her as she stares at Dillen. "Em, gimme the food."

Emma looks up and down the street, making sure it's clear before she walks up and hands the bag to her alpha. "What the hell you want the food for? Him?" She narrows her brows in a somewhat confused fashion at that. "Sure, I get clobbered my first go around and he gets free McDonalds. Nice."

The boy is now more concerned with what is happening to him than food. He stays on all fours as the hair begins to grow as well as the teeth. His body changing so rapidly takes the boy completely by surprise, even when his clothes start to rip. Fingers now armed with claws scrape at the floor of the alley. "What did you do to me?!" He growls out in pain and frustration.

"Coulda got your knee shot out," Nat says off-handedly, backing up to take the mouth of the alley. She doesn't do it without a grimace for Emma's 'claim-jumping', but hey. Alpha says, Alpha gets.

Signe, once it's clear that there's no way to stop the change to crinos out here in the daylight, she sighs and drops the bags of food to the ground. Hopefully they'll still be good when this is done. While Dillen's still on all fours, she finds a loose brick, grabs it, and uses it to club the cub on the back of the head. The hit is strong enough to kill most humans, but the half-shifted werewolf, no doubt, will recover with little more than a really bad headache.

As he should, Dillen crumples to the ground in a heap.

Natalie lets out an explosive breath and reverses her retreat, heading back to the Get. Gets. Getii. It's the Walker tango! "Say g'night, Gracie." She scoops up the abandoned food before it can get stepped on or absorb too many of the alley's more interesting marinating liquids. "How do you want to get him back to your place? I assume that's where he's going?"

Signe stands over the cub, scratching her chin thoughtfully. the brick is tossed behind the dumpster at the far end of the alley. "His clothes are all torn. Dammit. I was hoping to get him back there before he changed. It's only a couple of blocks, but I don't fancy hauling him in broad daylight, knocked out cold, past the police station. I suppose you and Em can keep an eye on him while I fetch Rachel's truck."

Natalie considers a minute. "I could do that. Or I could go get mine - you're probably a bigger threat in his world than I am. If he wakes up while you're gone he might try and make a break for it and then we'll have to go through this all again. With you here, though, he's bound to be a good little boy." She checks inside the Mickey's bag, then squints back down the alley. "Of course, between the three of us we could 'walk' him past the cop shop. If anyone comes out to hassle, I'll drop back and play Jedi while you two keep going with him."

Dillen, of course, has shifted back to homid and lies in the middle of the alley. What exactly is that stuff his body is laying in?

Don't ask. Don't tell.

Signe looks at Natalie gratefully. "I'd feel safer in a vehicle," she says. "Meanwhile, em and I'll keep him quiet."

Natalie shrugs to that and heads out of the alley at a fast clip. It's perhaps five or ten minutes before a small green pickup pulls into the mouth of the alley, one Glass Walker at the wheel. No spritely horn toots, though.

Signe grins when she sees the truck. The ahroun had taken to pacing restlessly while waiting. Under the full moon, even five minutes is an eternity for her kind. she picks the boy up unceremoniously, lays him in the back and climbs in after him. Em sits up front with Nat. The Get elder tells the Walker, "Pull up behind the brownstone. There's an alley back there, which has an entrance to the boiler end of the basement. We can get him in without even being near the cops."

[Scene change]

Brownstone -- Basement Apt.

The basement of the brownstone has been split into two sections. The stairwell leads down into the northwest corner section, which contains the boiler room, furnace, and the elevator shaft. The rest has been converted into another apartment, and Signe's made it into a rather fortified one at that. The only entrance is through a re-enforced steel door with no less than three dead-bolts. There are absolutely no windows at all in any of the four concrete and brick walls. It's a rather stark but functional space. Overhead, the air ducts and plumbing pipes are exposed, while the cement floor is covered by a ragged dark wine and gold Oriental throw rug. A makeshift shelving unit of two-by-fours and cinder block has been erected along the length of the wall with the door, and it houses a stereo, tv and old vcr. Directly opposite this is a beat-up leather couch and two mismatched recliners. The kitchen is small but functional, with a round wooden table and four chairs. Half of the back end of the building has been walled off for a private bedroom, while the rest is open to the living area. This space has been converted into a home gym--complete with wrestling mats, weights, and a full weight boxing bag.

Obvious exits:
Out Bedroom

Signe unlocks the deadbolts while Emma and Nat hold up our little friend. Once the door is open, she gestures for them to drop him on the couch. "Let me see if we have any Tylenol. His head's gonna hurt when he wakes up. Nat make sure the door gets locked behind us."

"You got it," the Galliard agrees, letting the boy slip off her shoulder and onto the couch. Daring thing that she is, she tosses Emma the keys to her truck, abjuring her to, "Remember the clutch, dammit," before locking the door behind the young Ahroun. "I'll keep an eye on sleeping beauty."

Signe moves to the kitchen to look for the little white bottle with the red top. She fetches a bottle of water, too. "Did the burgers survive?" she asks, in the meantime.

Natalie says, "Hell, I don't know." She searches around the room for a minute before spotting where Emma tossed them. The bag rattles, releases that oh-so lovely Mickey's smell when she opens it. "Yeah, looks like. Couple of burgers and some fries. These for you, or for him?"

"For him," she says, though Signe looks a little hungry herself. Nevertheless, she doesn't take them. "He looks like he ain't had anything in a good long while." after another thoughtful pause, she adds, "and he could use a bath, too."

Natalie pulls the burgers out of the damp bag and tosses them onto the table. The bag's balled up and, after a few minute's search for it, tossed into the trash. "Yeah, couldn't we all. You got an almanac around here? Internet connection? Figure we might as well figure out his auspice soon as we can. ...Unless you want to do it some other way?"

Dillen slowly begins to stir on the couch. A hand creeps up and rubs over the back of his head and a light groan comes from his lips. "Get the tag of that truck?" He asks, until he realizes he isn't where he though he should be, in ripped clothes.

Signe shakes her head. "Not here. Not even a phone. Just the cell. Upstairs though, Rach has a computer in her place." then, she asks, "How you gonna look it up? We don't even know his name, let alone when he was born."

Natalie nods toward the couch as her answer. "Mr Happy's waking up. ...Hell, if Jer weren't at work I could make him look it up. He gets off on that sort of thing. Oh well." She skirts around the wall to a spot where she can see the couch.

Dillen tries to get up quickly and bolt for the door, but the pain in his head just flops him back down in front of the couch. "What the hell happened?" As he pushes hair away to look about the room. "And who, or what, the hell are you?"

Signe looks past Nat to see Dillen waking up. Nodding, she heads that way -- back in homid and looking normal herself. Dillen's escape attempt is fairly ignored, since she knows the steel re-enforced door is deadbolted. "I'm a Signe," she says, tossing him the bottle of tylenol as well as one of the hamburgers. "We can start there. And maybe you can tell me your name?"

Natalie leans casually against the wall, arms folded. That makes two - the third freaky chick is nowhere to be seen. "What do you think you just saw, kid?"

Dillen acts reflexively as two missiles come flying towards him. "Dillen." He says warily. He picks up the bottle and the burger looking at them as if they were poisoned. His gaze goes up to Natalie, "Some horror movie. That burger I ate must have been rancid. Hallucinations."

Signe shakes her head, sitting casually across from Dillen as she speaks. "Not hallucinations," she corrects. "Not that I expect you to believe me. But you will, eventually. So. You're Dillen? This here's Natalie. I'm Signe, like I said. The other one you saw, she's Emma."

"You only wish food poisoning set in so fast," Nat snorts, but she lifts her chin in a casual acknowledgement of her name.

Dillen looks about again. "Where is my stuff?" His eyes scan the room and suddenly his hand goes to his neck, searching for the charm that hangs from the leather. When his hand finds the small wolf, he lets out a sigh of relief.

Signe nods toward the door. "Emma's gonna bring the stuff in when she gets back. Relax," Signe says. she lets him scan the room, showing more patience than one might expect from a tense ahroun. "Dillen. When were you born, exactly?"

That same brow raises. "Why do you ask so many questions?" Dillen's nose sniffs at the burger, the growing of his stomach getting to him as he opens the wrapper and devours it before someone can take it from him.

Natalie tosses back, "If she didn't, I would, and we can't have that, now can we?"

Signe's patience waivers a little. "Look, kid, this can go one of two ways. I'm not gonna fucking hurt you. I'm not gonna rob you, that much ought to at least be fucking obviious enough. Just answer the damned questions. The sooner you do, the sooner you get your own fucking answers, alright?"

"May 14." Is all Dillen seems to want to answer. "Could have fooled me." He says softly.

"What year, kid? ...Oh hell, Jer's gonna point and laugh." Nat doesn't explain this cryptic annoucement, just pulls out her cell phone, flips it open, and starts tapping away. "All hail the geek."

Signe just looks between Nat and Dillen, smirking again.

Dillen raises a brow and rubs his head a little more. "1990." He scowls at Signe. "So am I kidnapped or something? You might as well give up asking for a ransom, parents have hardly even bothered to look for me." He sighs a bit. "When is Emma gonna get back with my bag? I really need it."

"Ninety?" Nat echoes, surprised, giving the boy a shocked once-over. "Huh. I woulda pegged you for older'n that." She 'huhs' again before tapping a few more buttons. "Well hallelujah. Congratulations, Signe, it's a Galliard."

Signe tosses Nat a look as if she shared the Walker galliard's surprise for the date. "'90? God damn. Yeah, they just keep getting younger." Dillen's question earns him another smirk. "What, you had better digs than this to go to? Just relax." She pushes to her feet, sighing a little bit. It's Natalie she speaks to next. "A galliard, eh? We don't have one of those. So, that's good. And bad. You might have to help me teach him his moon."

A bit of a stunned expression crosses the boy's face. "Galliard? What do you mean? My Grand was called galliard." The hand goes to touch the small wolf around his neck. "My moon? What sort of cryptic shit is this?" His stomach gives a bit of a gurgle.

Natalie pokes at those little tiny buttons a few seconds more before flipping her phone closed and hanging it back on her belt. "What, you're not afraid I'm gonna corrupt him with my Weavery ways?" She nods toward Dillen again. "What we're talking about, kid, is your auspice. What phase of the moon you were born under. You and me, we're both fat moons. Galliards. Not half, not full - three-quarter. You dig? Emma and Signe, they're both Ahrouns. Full moons. Grumpy as hell."

Signe waggles an eyebrow when Nat calls her grumpy, but she quickly gets back to business and leaves the funny stuff behind. "What is that you keep fingering around your neck? Let me see it." She gets up to check out this wolf-necklace.

Dillen looks to Signe and then back to Natalie. "Gee. Ya think?" As he shakes his head, "That why she grows fur like that and growls?" He sighs a bit, "Could I get a blanket or something until the rest of my clothes get here? These are kinda shot." As he fingers the torn cloth of his jeans. "So I did what you did?" He looks to Signe and his hand clamps over it for a moment, then slowly relaxing. "My grand gave it to me, carved it herself. Told me to never lose it."

Signe turns it over, examines it, and smiles. "Your Grand's a smart woman. You say she's a galliard, too? What was her name?"

"Lacie." His eyes look up to Signe. "Yeah, her friends called her galliard." He gives a big sigh. "She died two years ago. Basically raised me." He smiles for the first time. "Told the best stories."

Natalie grins and slips up to Glabro herself. "She growls because she's Signe. She's furry because she's Garou." If the boy has have the intelligence of a cucumber, he might now put two and two together.

Dillen looks up to see Nat, "Holy Fuck." As he climbs up the wall.

...Or he might climb up the wall. So much for simple arithmetic.

Signe glances casually back to Natalie and then to Dillen. "Grand tell you stories about werewolves?" she asks, grinning wide enough to show off her teeth.

The well-over six-foot Natalie remains against the wall, as casual and nonchalant as if she did this every day. "Keep your shirt on... what's left of it, anyway. You got something for him, Signe-rhya? Sweatshirt?"

"So that... Is me?" Dillen relaxes a bit more. "Yeah. She did. But she always made them sound like she made them up. I remember some of them." He curses under his breath. "S'why I need my bag." His hand shakes a little as he steps towards Natalie. "This is strange, but... Can I touch you?" Still scared.

Signe pushes up from the chair. "Yeah, I got some stuff, I think. Lemme look. You keep feeding him the basics, as long as he behaves. I'll be right back. Remind me to do a dedication on them. I can't afford to lose more clothes."

Natalie shows teeth that would cause an orthodontist to shriek and faint, then pushes off the wall and ambles over to the couch. "Sure." An arm comes out for the touchy-touchy, still incongrously garbed in that same sweatshirt. Definitely not fair."You're handling this good, kid. You wanna hear more about what we are, or see a demonstration?"

Dillen reaches out and touches Natalie's arm. "Yeah. Well, I figure I will wake up and have one hell of a headache." He looks up to look at Nat's teeth and winces. "I've just heard so much about them that I..." He becomes quiet and sighs a bit. "Yeah." As he plops back onto the couch.

"Then visuals are..." Nat's cut off by her cell. She checks the readout, then swears softly. "Crap. Signe, I've got to run. You'll be all right with her," she adds sotto-voice for Dillen. "I'll be back later. So'll Emma." She heads for the back door, shifting smoothly back to Homid, and gives the boy a quick grin before disappearing into the alley.

[End of log]